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TO WHICH IS P.(EFI.\KI> A PLEA FOR CLASS-MEETINGS, WITH ymto AN INTR0DUCT10l«BY H. MlLBURN SAN FRANCISCO, CAL: E. THOaiAS, 711 MISSION STREET. 1868. ^i'Jt. v Km mm ■with SEP 1 8 waft INTRODUCT FRELIMINA y the announce- lic arrangement and Wesleyan. jh matters than lod, imbued with ter of our Great three heads, and conclusion of the d practical appli- almost indlspens- rast to the large, \:elter freedom of manner of truth, cxt that may be topical." ic preacher to ad- pon the shape of Catholic churches •son only — nccoss to it being gained by a long fliglit of winding stepp, and when you have toiled to the dizzy lieight, you fmd yourself overlooking tlio galleries, and perelied, perhapH twenty feet above the iloor. Not u little sell-control must be inactised by tiio preacher, and he is compelled, wlietlier he will or not, to pay a good deal of attention to tlie laws of gravitation, and other decorous regulations, or the stern jjcnalty of u tuiublo maybe enforced upon hin\. The platform of this country (for our pulpits arc nothing more), in its slight elevation above the floor, its nearness to the people, its susceptibility to impression from the audi- ence, and tlio vantage-ground it affords the preacher ftu- imbuing the hearers with his own sympathies, is a great advance upon the English desk, and a near approach to tho ambo of the early Church. Tl>c diflerencc, as to tho stand- ing-ground of the preachers of the two countries, is signi- ficant—almost symbolic— of the difference of tlieir styles. The English seem to fancy, that our method, in its reach after the people, its disloy.alty to technical rule, its range of illustration, and its disuse of a strict theo- logical phraseology, as well as in its free adoption of the language of common life, borders upon a reprehensible looseness. To the American, on the other hand, the close adherence to models, the almost single variation between a dogmatic and hortatory style, and the employment of a limited range of words, not so much Scriptural as conventional, make tlio English pulpit appear formal. No doubt each could learn something of advantage from the other ; and it seemed to me, that Mr. Punshon occupied tho enviable position of standing midway between the two, with many of the 1* INTRODUCTION, advantages of both. He is systematic, yet untrammelled, and while technical in his arrangement, he is still free and varied in illustration. Confining himself to the legiti- mate themes of the pulpit, he at the same time docs not despise the use of general literature. His aim seems to be to make men Christians — either to convert them from sin, or to establish them in holiness, not to teach them political economy, to educate them in aisthetics, to afford them brilliant disquisitions in metaphysical science, or to enforce on them the flattering assurance, that the private soul (that is, the essential me) is higher and grander than society, state, church, law, or Scripture. The staple of his discourses, when I heard him, concerned man's spiritual and eternal welfare, and did not consist in flowers, stars, breezes or clouds. I should say that he is better read in the writings of St. Paul and St. John, than in those of the Gnostics, and that he holds the canon of Scripture to be binding upon men, as a rule of faith and practice. As to politics, I have a suspicion (but I can only state it as a suspicion, for I heard him say nothing on the subject), that he prefers the English Revolution of 1688, to the French Revolution of 1789 ; and that he holds the powers that be, are ordained of God, and not of the Devil ; and therefore, if he taught anything on the subject, that he would teach fealty to the constitution of the land m which he live", loyalty to the law, obedience to constituted authority, as the duty of eveiy good citizn, and not, that insubordination and revolution are the crowning glories of every regenerate soul. He is liberal, but his liberality is not the equivalent of a contempt for orthodoxy ; and while sc hi es di to th an j« of wi of n( yc fo] ve sei W( as ov foi at gc yo ev foi BU( is I toi matic, yet untrammelled, ument, he is still free and 5 biraself to the legiti- the same time does not •e. His aim seems to be convert them from sin, or to teach them political :sthetics, to afford them ical science, or to enforce hat the private soul (that id grander than society, en I heard him, concerned c, and did not consist in I should say that he is , Paul and St. John, than it he holds the canon of en, as a rule of faith and >n (but I can only state it f nothing on the subject), volution of 1688, to the that he holds the powers ad not of the Devil ; and on the subject, that he ition of the land in which obedience to constituted ;ood citizen, and not, that re the crowning glories of iberal, but his liberality is for orthodoxy ; and while INTKODUCnON. XI some of his countrymen may esteem hir^ a progressive, I hardly think his progressiveness consists in the recently expounded doctrine of consistency, " be true to yourself to- day — no matter what you said or did yesterday " — that is to say, progress and the weathercock are one and the same thing. As Mr. Punshon advanced in his discourse on that pleas- ant June morning, an occasional emphasis, applied with judgment, betokened the practical speaker ; and the finish of his sentences betrayed thorough preparation. As ho warmed to his work, quickening at the same time the gait of bis articulation, you found him gaining a strong hold not only upon your attention, but upon your feelings ; and you discovered that underneath the ample and rather loose folds of adipose tissue with which his outer man is in- vested, there are great stores of electrical power. He pos- sesses that attribute indispensable to the orator, for which we have no better name than magnetic. You are rooted as by a spell, and surrender for a time the guidance of your own thoughts. You have dropped the helm of your mind, for a more skillful pilot has for the nonce taken your place at the tiller. Occasionally, you find the speaker's power over you gomg to such lengths as to control your respiration, and you breathe as he breathes, or as he gives you liberty. Who- ever has known the delicious pain of a long, deep inhalation — half a sigh of relief, half a welcome of the outer world for the time forgotten — while listening to a speaker with such rapt earnestness that every faculty of mind and sense is concentrated in the one act of hearing, has felt what ora- tory is. He has felt it, but can he describe it ? He might jJJ INTKODUCTION. ag weU attempt to describe the thrUl of love or rapture. 1 doubt not, Mr. Punshon has showed many people what ora- tory is, and made them to know the power of the orator ; but I question much if he can teach them the power of h.s art, or how to analyze and define it. It is not the power of intellect, for I have seen and heard nothing from hmx extraordinary as an intellectual production. It does not he in his taste-I am not sure it that would bear the test of rigid criticism. It is not in the exhibition of stores of learn- ing; his life has been too busy and practical, to enable him to gain great stock of lore. It is not in the tncks of a charlatan or the skill of an actor, for Mr. Punshon is a sincere, devout and godly man. The charm of eloquence retreats from the scrutiny of analysis as life retires from the knife of the anatomist. Before he has reached his major "thirdly," it is aU over with your independent consciousness; you have yielded at discretion and are the prisoner of his feeling. I am half m- clined to believe that his own intellect is in the same plight, and that memory acts as the warder of the brain, under MTit from the lordly soul. You have thrown criticism to tlie do-s; your ear has exchanged itself for an eye; the bone and flesh of your forehead become delicately thin, as the lamina of the cornea, and your brain seems endowed with the power of the iris. You enjoy the ecstasy of vision and as the speaker stops you recover yourself enough to feel that you have had an apocalyptic hour. It seems to n.e, that the true measure of eloquence is found, not so much in what is said as in what is sug- gested; not so much in the speaker's abUity to convey to you an idea, as to suffuse you with tb. glow of a senti- lui'iit ; not s puiil behind IX sharer. 3[i-. riiiisl lii.';ird in Ei aial ; his exi liim from tl of self-conc( man's head ollei'od to 31 contents h-.v an idea, th: Apostle's a more higlily think sober every man Mr. Puns' to study cl( quently not He prepare most scnipt greater pan memory, an beforehand once quick higher avei many morti from the gi "Mr. Pi authority) < INTKODUCTION. xiii e or rapture. 1 people what ora- r of the orator ; the power of his lot the power of thing from him It does not lie bear the test of )f stores of learn- ctical, to enable ; in the tricks of Mr. Punshon is irm of eloquence life retires from lly," it is all over I have yielded at ng. I am half in- 1 the same plight, the brain, under lown criticism to ' for an eye ; the delicately thin, as a seems endowed 3 ecstasy of vision, yourself enough 3 our. re of eloquence is IS in what is sug- bility to convey to <» glow of a senti- mi'iit ; not so much in the truth which is uttered, as in the poiil beliind tlie tnilli, of wliicli you Income, for the time, II sharer. 3[i-. I'uiishon is nuich more of an orator than any man I lieard hi England. In society he is simple, quiet, and ge- nial ; his excellent good sense, and unallected piety deliver him from the snares of egotism, and the foolish weakness of self-conceit. The elialiec of praise turns many a great man's head. The goblet which the English imblic has oU'ered to Mr. runshon is huge and brimming; but if the contents have affected him, I did not discover it. I have an idea, that he gives close and scrupulous heed to the Apostle's admonition : " Let no man among you think more highly of himself than he ought to think, but let him think soberly, righteously, according as God has dealt to every man the measure of faith." Mr. Punshon is not .as robust as he looks. He is not able to study closely more than three hours at a time, and fre- quently not more than that out of the twenty-four hours. He prepares himself for the rostrum and pulpit with the most scrupulous and exhaustive care. I should say that the greater part of his sermons and lectures arc committed to memory, and delivered almost word for word, as they were beforehand composed. Ills recollection is, therefore, at once quick and tenacious. This plan, while it insures a higher average of public performance and saves him from many mortifymg failures, at the same time shuts him out from the ground of highest power. " Mr. Punshon was born (I now quote from i-eliablo authority) on the 29th of May, 1824, and snocossfully passed jjjy INTRODUCTION. bis examination for the Wc.leyan ministry iu the year 1845. lie U a native of Doncaster, an.l is related, on the mo her 8 Bide, to the Morlcys of that town, and since of Hull, Sir Isaac Morley being his uncle. The only child ot his parents, ho early displayed that wonderful memory for which he is now so remarkably distinguished, and a propensity to storo it with facts which rarely interest mere boys. At the JJon- castcr Gramhiar School, where he was educated, he is said not to have discovered any surprising proficiency ; but when still a child he was able to name nearly all the xnem- bers of the House of Commons, with the places for which thev sat, and the color of their politics. "In early life he associated himself with the W esleyan Methodists, to which religious body his fomily belonged ; but public affairs continued to be his ruling passion, and the most surprishig thing is, that his oratory, mstead ot adornin<^ the Methodist chapel, should not have been electri- fvin- tire chapel of St. Stephen. When his grandtather and uncfes removed to their establishment in Hull, he was placed in their counting-house as junior clerk. He may have had talents for business, but his inclination ran in another direc- tion During the three years that he was supposed to be makin- out iiivoices and footing up ledgers, he was absorbed in newspapers ; and the only account he cared to keep was of the way in which the representatives of the people voted in Tarliamcnt. "In the debates nobody was better posted up. ihe temptation of a daily newspaper was irresistible; and while the other clerks were deep in figures, he was culling figures of si)ecch from the orators of the Reformed Parliament— witchin-1- the opening g(mius of Gladstone and Macaulay, . notiiH"- the inaturer excellences of Peel and Palmerston, and markfng the linest flights of Shiel and O'Counell for his own. The predilections of a young politician are seldom of much importance ; but it so happened that young Pun- ehon'a devotion to newspaper studies threw him into the Bociety of th the then ne\ Poel and his strengthen e: one of thorn and thougli i of the thimbl Menticultura being a Wes the Establisl monthly lecti possessed of Nor did ho a for there is they publish( tributod a p promise. A ministry of tl which result! a Sunday-sell He began to exhibited mr made at Ellc cause the sei who heard i when Mr. Pi stances there in the counti mercial circh an uncle at he had enter " But the 1 nor day-booli liim an arder rature, and i employ his ti INTRODUCTION. XV 1 the ycaf 1845. )n the mother's ce of Uull, Sir i of his parents, for whieh he is pensity to store 3. At the Don- sated, he is said )roficicncy ; but rly all the mem- places for Avhich h the Wesleyan amiiy belonged ; ing passion, and itory, instead of lave been electri- I grandfather and uU, he was placed le may have had in another diree- s supposed to be , he was absorbed jared to keep was the people voted posted up. The istible ; and while eas culling figures ued Parliament — • le and Macaulay, \ Palmerston, and O'Counell for his itician are seldom [ that young Pun- ircw him into the Boclety of three young men who were earnest disciples of the then newly born conservative opinions of Sir liobort Pool and his adherents, and wlio licld weekly meetings to strengthen each other in llicir political fiiith. Once a month one of them read a I'aper to tlic rest on a given siibjoct ; and though not more numerous than the colebrntcd kniglits of the thimble in Tooley street, tliey called themselves *' Tlic Menticultural Society." Two of the three survive, one being a Wesleyan minister, and the other a clergyman of the Established Church. In these weekly discourses and monthly lectures, Mr. Punshon first distinguished himself as possessed of those faculties which have made him eminent. Nor did ho and his associates confine themselves to politics ; for there is in existence a small volume of poetry, Mhich they published conjointly, and to whicii Mr. Punshon con- tributed a piece entitled " The Orphan," of considerable promise. About the same time lie received, under the ministry of the Rev. Samuel Romilly Hall, those impressions, which resulted in his religious conversion. He tlien became a Sunday-school teacher, and subsequently a local preacher. He began to preach when ho was eighteen years of age, and exhibited much ability in the pulpit. His first attempt was made at EUerby, near Hull, and it was so successful as to cause the sermon to live in tho memory of at least some who heard it, for they talked about it years afterward, when Mr. Punshon visited the place. Under such circum- stances there could be little doubt that his vocation was not in the counting-house. But still he was kept in the com- mercial circle, for from his relatives in Hull he was sent to an uncle at Sunderland, to follow up the pursuit on which lie had entered. " But the books in wliich he dolightod were neither lodger nor day-books. His refined fancy and polished taste made liira an ardent admirer of the sublime and beautiful in lite- rature, and at the same time his religious views led him to employ his talents more than ever in the preaching of tho . INTRODUCTION. XVI Gospel • and as certain rivers uro lost in niorasses we lose ^gbt of Ws commercial career sou.ewhere among the coal- nits and iron-works of the North. ^ 'd uin- these events he had been bereaved of both pa- rents • and his grandfather, at length convinced that seculai ' 1 «L not ]m vocation, made liberal arrangements ::rU;S ^ LlTlb;.. ministry in the Wesleyan Insti- mio aftei- a preliminary conrse of instruction at the house o 1^'un cle, the llev. Benjamin Clough, at ^^V^^?\. " There, however, he did not long remam ; it bemg found, prolib y ither that his genius was iU-suited to the re. Hnts of an academical course, or that by self-culture, and "help of his ministerial relative, he had attamed a profi- dencj which, with talents such as his, superseded a more f^-n. 1 training. In the spring of 1845 a secession of the piishioners from the Episcopal Church at Morden, Kent, formed the nucleus of aWesleyan church in tha town, and Mr. I'unshon was invited to accept the pastoral charge of the secodovs. He complied with the request, and under his •mistry their numbers so gre.tly increased that a commo- dious chapel was erected, and always well hUed It was only for a short time, however, that he remained in this phce for in the autumn of the san.c year the Conference, under whose jurisdiction the iMorden church seems to have come, «ent him to Whitehaven, where he resided two years, and attracted large congreg.ations. From thence, in 1847, he was removed to the city of Carlisle, and two years aftei- w.rd to Newcastle-ou-Tyne. In both of these great centres of poinilation INIr. Tunshon at once acquired a worthy name, and became a mighty power for good, as well as at Sunder- Pnul Gateshead, Shields, and the other towns of the dis- trict where he never luul to preach or lecture to empty, or onlv'partially occupied pews and benches. AVhilc stationed at kewcastle, being then in his twenty-fifth year, he mar- ricd a daughter of Mr. Vicars, of Gateshead, a very csti- inable and highly accomplished lady, whose premature death iu 1858 threw path, just whe circuit, Avherc the gifted an( unwelcome, th of tlie pastor's "From Nev Sheflicld, and 1 at Sheflicld th abroad ; .and h for special ser lieve, in the cl first time in Li recollect the ci of Exeter Ilal Men's Christif was not, slrici treme brillian minds and liu' ence ; and we applause as th greeted each was delivered and such was had followed • or at home, print, it wouh memory of tl tence that th performance I tation outsid( some two or 1 Exeter Hall, 1 Dreamer, Jol most maeterlj sands in almo INTllODUcnoN. XVU )vas8es, we lose imong tlio coal- yctl of both pa- cod that secular il arrangements Wcsleyan Insti iou at the house Doptlbrd. ; it bemg found, itcd to the res self-culture, and attahicd a profi pcrsedcd a more secession of the t Mordcn, Kent, in that town, and [istoral cliarge of E>st,and imdcrhis ;d that a coinmo- ;ll filled. It Avas remained in this ir the Conference, rch seems to have resided two years, m thence, in 1847, id two years after- ihese great centres ed a worthy name, well as at Sunder- towns of the dis- cture to empty, or !. AVhile stationed fifth year, he mar- ihead, a very csti- ise premature death in 1858 threw tlie darkest shadow across Mr. Punshon'a path, just when he liad been appointed to a Metropolitan circuit, Avhcrc enlarged usefulness and new honors awaited the gifted and ardent aniljassador of Christ ; when most unwelcome, the King of Terrors came and took the angel of the pastor's home away to her sister spirits in glory. "From Newcastle 3Ir. Punshon was removed in l^ol to Sheffield, and thence to Leeds in 1855, It was while he wa< at Sheflield that the fame of the ])reacher became noised .abroad ; and his services were soon in very frequent request for special sermons, and also for lectures. It was, avc be- lieve, in the character of a lecturer that he appeared for the first time in London, some six or seven years ago. We well recollect the circumstance of his standing upon the platform of Exeter Ilall to discourse to the members of the Yoiuig Men's Christian Association on the Prophet of Iloreb. It was not, strictly speaking, a lecture ; but ;m oration of ex- treme brilliancy, suited in a high degree to captivate the minds and find its way to tiiu allections of a youthful audi- ence ; and we never remember to have heard such rapturous applause as that with which the thousands there assembled greeted each glowing period. The whole of the oration was delivered memoritei\ and with extraordinary fluency ; and such was the literal fidelity with which the speaker had followed the manuscript, which was either in his pocket, or at home, that when it shortly afterward appeared in print, it would have been difficult for the most retentive memory of the closest listener to have pointed out a sen- tence that the lecturer had not uttered. By this single performance Mr. Punshon established a Metropolitan repu- tation outside his own denomination, which was increased some two or three years afterward by his second lecture in Exeter Ilall, before the same Association, on the Immortal Dreamer, John Bunyan.; and, more recently still, by that most masterly oration on the Huguenot, which tens of thou- sands in almost .all parts of England have listened to with xvm INTRoDLCTION. 'i' ir, ■! - uuLounaecl ileliglit. With one or two exceptions, rerhaps, tlicrois no living minister in this country possessed ot so n.uch popular power as Mr. P.ni.hon. It is something wonaorl-ul and grand to ^vitne.s the spell of his genius upon miscellaneous audiences of from three to five thousand pco- Vlo i„ St. James' Hall, Exeter Hall, or the provincial theatre, Avho have paid from a shilling to a half crown each for admission. Most people will probably preler Mv. 1 un- shon in character of a lecturer rather than that oi a preacher. In the pulpit he is unquestionably a master, and only second to -x very few preachers of the age ; but the platform lur- nisiies a better sphere for the display of his varied abiht.es. In neither capacity does ho give the people that wdnch has cost him nothing; for so accurate, and elaborate is alm<.6t every sentence, and so appropriate and polishe.l every illus- trative simile, that it may be eoniidently said he writes out and commits to memorv every sermon and lecture that ho delivers. Whatever 1m undertakes he does well. AV hether it is in the preaching of an ordinary sermon m a ISFcthodist Chanel, or in the delivery of an ostensibly popular discourse; in some great public building, or as taking part in the meet- inrr of some benevolent or religious association, or as alecv tuT-er ocnupying the rostrum before thousands ot delighted hcare'rs, he is always earnest, always rne.getic, always effective. .1 . f " In a two hours' discourse upon such a theme as that ot the history of France throughout the whole period of the Huguenot persecutions, ordinary and even very superior Ice- turcrs would have considered a manuscript indispensable. But not so Mr. runshon. A few notes on some small cards held in the hand were all the prompting lie required, when we heard him go through his magnilicent address. He told that old story of persecution with an inspiring eloquence that made men hold their breath while they listened, or burst forth into a tempest of applause. Vigorous, inven tive and impassioned, he adapted himself to the versatile tastes of Ids ai niinplicity, am thoughts that touched cveij the liearts of 1 With God's the English sta May he have he shall contii the hearty wisl Brookltn, Maj, INTKODUUTION. XIX ptions, perhaps, possessed of so t is Boniething his genius upon e thousand pco- tho i)rovinci:vl half crown each prefer JNIr. I'lin- lat of a preacher, and only second he platform fnr- s varied abilities. le that which has aborato is almost ishcd every ilhis- lid he writes out d lecture that lie s well. Whether )n in a ]\[cthodist popular discourse part in tlie meet- iation, or as a leo- ;ands of delighted riK'igetic, always V theme as that of liolo period of the I very superior lec- ript indispensable. II some small cards lie required, when , address. He told uspiring elo(pience e they listened, or Vigorous, inven- elf to the versatile tastes of Lis auditory, not by any apparent effort, but by wmplicity, and strength, by speaking right out the thoughts that Avere in him. lie roused every passion, touched every emotion, ami awakened every sympathy in the hearts of his hearers." With God's blessing ^Ir. Punshon has yet, according to the English standard, full thirty of his best years before him. !May he have length of days and fullness of power, so that he shall continue to grow in Hivor M'ith God and man, is the hearty wish of his friend, W. II. MlLBURN. Brookltn, J/(i.'/ 15ur invitation jlfare, we dare I, amongst us. ter." But we !rs in difi'eront ath touched — 1 to religious .seless concern for tlieir souls; and it is to them we make our appeal. Dear friends, those of you that arc in such a case, to this merabersliip we invite you. We have watched for yon with eager solicitude. We have yearned over you with a pastor's yearning. Ui)on your Bj)iritual state we have expended many an anxious thought, for your spiritual Avelfare wo have breathed many a fer- vent prayer. Wc rejoice to see you in the sanctuar}', but wo would have you glad us with your presence at our family festivals. We see you standing at the threshold — we wish you to cluster round the hearth- stone and to be warmed at the fire. Perhaps you have not adequately considered the advantages of this in- valuable fellowship. Will you lend us your attention for awhile to a brief enumeration ? I. The Class-Meeting induces Self-examination. — Tlioughtlessness is the great sin and inveterate habit of the world. The natural man presents the " remarkable spectacle of a soul afraid of itself, afraid to stay with itself, alone, still and attentive." He may, perhaps, have parleyed sometimes with his immortal spirit, after the manner of some lordly nobleman speaking to an old servant of his house : " Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many yeare, take thine ease, eat, dritik, and be merry ;" or, haply some adventurous one set out with the fixed intention of visiting his heart's secret cham- bers, but his feelings were like those of one who entered a gloomy and long-deserted mansion. To his disor- 28 tabok; oij, the class-meeting. dcrcd imagination strange treuaors shook the arraB, unearthly echoes sounded from the etair, apparitions met the straining eye-ball upon every hiudmg- " J'oi- ovci' all tliore luing a cloud of fear, A scii?o of mystery tlie spirit diiuutcd, And said, as plain as whisper in the ear, Tlic place is haunted !" and he retired aiirighted, ^^•itll the big, eold drops upon his bro^v', and it must be a powerfiU motive that AVill tempt him into those chambers again. Nay, the Lord s accusation against his ancient people is chargeable to a great extent upon his people now, -My jpeople do not consider." How apt is the Christian, the heir of a nobler life, the professor of a living faith, to neglect the examination of himself! The countless activities of this utilitarian age have been all temptations, to ^■hich his busy spirit has been but too prone to yield. Tlie engrossing influence of business, the onward march of inteHect, the absorbing strife of politics, even the enterprises of religious philanthropy, have all, in turn, contributed most sadly to hinder the practice of self- communion. Tlie active has banished the reflective •, and it is to be feared that there are professors of reli- gion, who strangely rcchon all the moments spent upon themselves as so much toasted time. Wordsworth has entered his indignant protest against the intrusion of a railway to disturb the serenities of Grasmere and Kydal. Oh, for some spiritual laureate TAI — some sweet plied cxcitemt'i oflended mind '• lead you bcsii and devotional of self inquiry- ther he be in tl when the strif race of human thoughts were they were bew Class-Meeting sanctuary, and is like the com science takes c them respecti^ searching that niou ! " Alio "What record li tered from its rienced ? W. been my om: holier, more scorn of the ■« The heart mi made searchii perhaps, heav descending vii who knows ? TAmUt ; OU, TllK CLASS-MKIiTINO. 29 k the arras, , apparitions mg— lid drops upon )tivo that Avill 'ay, the Lord's liargcablc to a ' peoj)le do not the heir of a ith, to neglect itlcss activities temptations, to prone to yield. ! on-ward march litics, even the xvc all, in turn, practice of self- thc rellective; ■ofessors of reli- ents spent upon it protest against ;he serenities of piritual laureate — some sweet singer in Israel, to decry tlio multi- plied excitements which tramp and rattle through the ollended mind! ^fv i'rionds, the Clasa-Meeting will '•lead you beside these still waters." Xo right-minded and devotional spirit king stranger may join vs on our Eininaus-travcl, and make ' oixr hearts burn within us as he tulketh with us by the way.' " Thcs(! are no trilling blessings, and tlicso the Class Meeting indirectly procures, bccanse it, in some sort, compels self-coniniunion, and thus induces a habit which may be as powerful for good as former habits were powerful for evil. ' II. The Class-IIeeting jnvduces Gratitude. — Love — the lovo of gratitude — is tlie essence of religion — the first feeling of the regenerate soul. It springs electric in the mind of the believer at his first sight of Jesus. Authoritj- catniol command it. Terror cannot frighten it into existence. All the thoupand-fold appliances of worhlly wisdom cannot create it. There must be per- ception of love in Coil — a sense of his good-will — a view of the crucilied as well as of the cross before it be enkindled. "Wo love him hecause he first loved us." This feeling of gratitude is too deeply grateful for description. Language is but a mockery. Illustration fails. It is beyond a figure, and without a parallel. Who sees not the danger that an emotion like this, if hidden in the breast, should spend itself by its own continuity ? Gratitude is not like the mountain ava- lanche, which gains intensity from repression — it is rather like the fire, which imprisonment extinguishes — ■ or air, which, pure and free, is the refreshing breath of heaven ; but, fouled by confinement, is the blast of pestilence and death. Cojitemplation upon God's bound! I was tongue appro}: largo ( euoui'l be ditli the fui and br withon cnougl corape iiing— path — your 1 wando when ' If we the rel might shed a argum ingly : merer Under eounte most ti tion of I will , lunsa. TABOB ; OB, 'run CI.ASS-MKKTINO. 31 ranger may join na ' our hearts burn the way.' " These the Class Meeting Bt)nio sort, compels . habit which may ibits were poworfnl rratUude. — Love — BO of religion — the It springs electric irst sight of Jesus, ror cannot frighten -fold appliances df 'here nuiBt be por- if his good-will — a 10 cross before it be he first loved us." ieeply grateful for ckery. Illustration without a parallel, motion like this, if 1 itself by its own the mountain ava- il repression — it is lent extinguishes — ■ ■ef resiling breath of nt, is the blast of lation upon God's boundless love tends naturally to expression. " While I was musing the fire burned, then spake I with my tongue." jSow, the Class-Meeting furnishes the most appropriate occasion for tin's expression of praise. It is largo enough to redeem from privacy, and not largo enough to exclude tlie notion of a family, and it would be difliciilt to find a more legitimate sphere, in which the full heart may utter its thanks, unfold its hopes, and breathe its prayers. Nay, can there be gratitude without this thankful acknowledgment? Is there not enough in the dealings of your heavenly Father to compel it? The grace which loved you from the begin- ning — the visitations of mercy which have lighted your path — the beams of promise tliat have shone upon your head — the kind licart that has borne Mith your wanderings — the beckoning hand which restored you when you went astray — are they not constraining you ? If we were permitted to anticipate the objection which the rebel heart sometimes whispers : " I cannot speak," might we not say — Ah ! friends, get the love of God shed abroad within you, and it will fill your mouth with arguments. Wondrous is the power of this suqiass- ingly mighty theme. It makes the lips of the stam- merer eloquent, and the heart of the diffident bold. Under its inspiring influence, knowledge kindles on the countenance — praise flows from the tongue — and the most timid and retiring are transported into the invita- tion of the Psalmist, " Come all ye that fear God, and I will declare what he hath done for my soul." 82 TAUOIt ; OK, TlIK CLASS-MKETINO. lU. The Class-Meeting recognises hrotlierhood. — It is a mighty truth which God has written upon the uni- verse, and stumped cnduringly upon the groat heart of hunianitv, that " No man liveth to himself." The world is a vast mass of dependencies. Tlie feeblest woman or the humblest peasant exerts an influence which must be felt in the great brotherhood of man- kind. It is a precious appointment of Providence, that it has, in some sense, made our very selfishness benevo- lent — that it has bound us, at the peril of losing our own ehjoyments, to care for the necessities of others — and that it has extracted the most satisfying elements of public happiness from the joys and perils of individual lot. The heart, by a law of its constitution, must have something to .vhicli it can attach itself. Its end^lenis arc the summer-tendril and the clasping ivy. It was never formed for the hermitage or the monastery — and you must do violence to all its excellent charities, before it will entirely denude itself of all objects of solicitude and love. The Class-Meeting here comes in to supply a great icant of nature. It concentrates the feeling of brotherhood — prevents it from being frit- tered away in vague and sentimental generalities — and gives it a definite object and aim. If the church is the temple, the Class-Meeting is an inner and sacred inclo- sure. K the church is the populous city, the Class- Meeting is the united family, where love is throned in the heart and confidence nestles in the roof-tree; Every faithful leader will impress upon his flock, and every devoted i church at ollurt, to closer an there are all the n lionored, joined oi thren." Are yon perhaps, pining fo Father's 1 dered tlu travellers give the v all brothel your enen ^ IV. Tlu and rich e man ever ; "communi have hear fo cherish tliose who ticisms of Ihiwerets ( the damp sensitive n EETINO. TABOR ; OR, TIIE CrASS-MliETIN-O. 33 hrotlkerhood. — It is tten upon the uni- tlio great heart of to himself." Tlie cies. Tlie feeblest exerts an iiiflnence [•otherhood of man- of Providence, that r selfishness henevo- ril of losing our own itics of others — and isfying elements of perils of individual stitution, must have itself. Its emblems asping ivy. It was the monastery — and excellent charities, If of all objects of !ling here comes in It concentrates the it from being frit- :al generalities — and If the church is the 3r and sacred inclo- ous city, the Class- ! love is throned in he roof-tree; Every his flock, and ever}' devoted member will take care to feel, that, while the cliurch at large claims hi.s i)hilantliropic sympathy and effort, to his own fcllow-nu-iiibers ho is to cherish the closer and deeper feeliii^.s of lioirio. Hern espociiillv there are no orphans. " Wliethe-r one member suffer, all the members suffer witii it ; or one member be lionored, all the members rejoice with it." They are joined as in a commonwealth. "They love as bre- thren." Why join you not this heavenly communion ? Are yon not, lik{; the prodigal, in a far country, and, perhaps, if your pride would but confess it, inwardly pining for the " bread enough and to spare " of your Father's house at home ? Have you sufliciently consi- dered that in your present stale, regarding you as travellers to another world, you arc isolated, and— for- give the word— «('//«/*— exhibiting a practical denial of all brotherly relationship, by remaining to AVi-estlo with your enemies, and gain your heaven alone ? IV. The Class-Meeting elicits Si/mpathy.—QooA sense and rich exprerience are the Truits of intercourse. N'o man ever yet became either wise or holy by exclusively "communing with his own heart upon his bed." We have heard much lately on the tendency of seclusion to cherish the spirit of piety, and there are not wanting tliose who would revive in all their severity the monas- ticisms of past ages. Mistaken men! The sweet llowerets of Divine grace can rarely be acclimated to the damp soil of the convent ; they are not like the sensitive mimosa, which shrinks oven from the gentlest o* 34 TABOR ; OB, THE CLASS-MKKTINO. handlinpr, but rather, like the delicate heart's-easo, ji^ratet'iil l'(»r fijriicious (U'w-fallH, ami hrcat^iinp; zephyrs, niid the blessed sun, ami yet cuurliiif; the culture and the companionship of man. Christianity is not an ima- ginative revelry upon great truths — it is an carnoi^t endeavor to exemplify them. It is not contemplative pietism, it is unceasing labor. It is not an alien princi- ple, "vvhich has no sympathy with our nature, and is content with its distant and constrained submission — it is an all-pcrvasivo element, shrined in the heart, and influencing benignly the whole of the character. " Knox," says Dr. Chalmers, " did not destroy the old Romish pulpits at the time of the Reformation ; ho did better: he preached in them." Christianity does not annihilate a single passion — does not extinguish a siugk; affection of our nature. It does better. It employs tlu! former for its own noble purposes, and it fixes the latter where they may attach themselves, without fear of idolatry, even upon " things above." Tlie passions ui the Christian, therefore, arc as strong — the affections of the Christian arc as warm — as those of any man'. The charities of life, and of love, and of home, flourish as endearingly in the mind of the Christian as anywhere, and he has that intense yearning for sympathy which characterizes universal man. Here again, the Class- Meeting svpplks a great want of natitre. It is composed a band of wayfarers, met for the express pui-pose of eympathizing with each other in the struggles and perils of their common journey. How often has it opened up fong 18 joicing of a tei beseem the ■\v M'ords One m hk pu: —and assault Bpiritu a stran in the and si prayer Savioii the str afresh Anc ward ■MKKTINO. delicate lieart's-easo, <1 Itrcat^iin^; zopliyrs, •{\nptatiou adjusted with such nicety to his peculiar besc^mont as to be almost irresistible in its appeals, but the weekly season of fellowship has come, and tho words of the faithful leader " arc words in season," and One mightier than the leader is there, and a glance at h!o pure countenance — a touch of his invigorating hand —and he is nerved for the conflict, and spurns tho assaulter away. Another has been stricken with a spiritual paralysis — a wearisome torpor has seized him, a strange indifference has come upon his soul — and, as in the Class-Meeting, he tells his tale of half-heartedness and sin, amid the counsels of the faithful and the prayers of the pious, the glorious presence of tho Saviour bursts in light upon the chained one, and in all the strength and nobility of spiritual life, he "walks" afresh » with God." And who can tell the beneficial influence to the Zion- ward journey er, when persons of all ranks, character. 30 'rA.Bou; OK, Tin: ci.A68-Mr.K'riNa. H,ul «KCS, nnite to tontily that " the «a.nc Lord over all is rich it. inorcy unt.. ull then that c-all upon him? Perhaps Ihrro irt an a-cd pilgrim who tor years has walked and tainted nut. Many a hill of dilUculty has ho climbed, nuvny a valley of hnmiliation has ho trcnl. dou-ho has tales to toll of wary walkings on enehttnted {rround— of liair-breadth cneape out of tho net of tlie Flatterer-aye, and of ravishing prospects for the Delectable mountains and from tho elevations of Pisgah; and, while his eye brightens mul his voice falters, he tells also that ho has never repented his setting forth on pilgrimage, and that the pleasures arc Bweeter, and the toils less irksome, than when, in youth, lie grasped the palmer-staif and strapped on the sandals. Is it nothing to be favored with the testimony of such an one, and to sit under his shadow witli delight ? to have our rash judgments rebuked by his experience, and our faith confirmed by the ardors of his imperish- able hope ? There is a young convert there, it may be, who has recently realized a wonderful change, oven, « from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan nnto God." He has found " peace and joy in believ- ing ;" and the new-found gladness that is within him streps the sky in brighter blue, and decks the eartli with bonnier green ; and, blushing at his own fervor, lie pours forth in the Class-Meeting his ascriptions of praise. The old man hears, and is reminded of the days of his first love— it is like a snatch of the music that used to thrill the soul of yore, and, in a moment, memory has ])alnte( ili)Ul)t with w eventfii eyes as not th instruei cliarmc voting. which i is tho desjiair scionsm hearts ( depress niembc: of faith if then anomah than thi of the I thought tremble dewless on whog liis pent supplica upon tl waters t MECTINO. Biinio Lord over all int cull upon liim^'" \ who for yciu-ft lias , hill of ililUctilty h\> liliivtiun hurt ho trod- iilkiiigs on encluintcd lit of tho net of the y prospects for the 1 tho clevutions of ;hlcn8 und his voice i never repented his hut the pleasures are than when, in youth, •upped on tho sunduls. :he testimony of such ilow with delight ? to .d by hirt experience, •dors of his iniperibli- ivert there, it may he, iiderful change, even, n the power of Satan CO and joy in belicv- !ss that is within him and decks the cartli ; at lus own fervor, he is ascriptions of praise, led of the days of liis he music that nsed to moment, memory has TAHOr; or, THK rtASS-MEEttNn. 87 l)ainted tho first conviction — the early Btrnj .,'!e8— tlio (lonht that harassed liis young initid — tho triumph witli whicli lu; hailed its departure — and, above all, the eventful nioniont when joy broke through liis swimming eyes as he believingly said, "My Father!" "Who sees not tho mutual and glorious benelit — tho young instructed by tho experience of the aged — tho aged charmed and quickened by tlie enthusiasm of tho young. And then there is one sympathy on this head which it would be nnpardonablo in us to omit, and that is tho 8ymj)athy of prayer. Who can bo lonely or despairing, even in this wilderness world, with the con- sciousness that there are hearts praying for him? hearts of those who are animated by similar ho])C8, and depressed by similar fears, and who are bound by their membership to "make intercepsicm for " the household of faith "according to the will of God?" My friends, if there were no other disadvantage in your present anomalous position as aloof from the church of Christ, than this — that by your separation you deprive yourself ' of the church's j^'ayrfi — there is a fcarfulncss in the tiiought which might well cause yon to reflect and tremble. Desolate indeed is the spirit — cursed as tho dcwless hills of Gilboa — for which no prayer ascends, on whoso behalf no knee is bowed to heaven. Rich in las penury is poverty's poorest child, if his portion is the supplication of the faithful ! Happy the lonely watcher upon the gallant vessel's deck, if over the waste of waters the wife of his bosom prays ! Never is a heart 88 TABOR ; OB, THE CLASS-MEETING. orphaned, or divorced utterly from hope ard heaven, if in some extremest corner there rises one yearning spirit's prayer. And if individual prayer can do so much, what must be the effect of many ? My friends, we would be almost content to rest the whole matter here, this one advantage would so overwhelmingly con- strain your decision. Bold indeed must you be in self- confidence, in infatuation, in sin, if you refuse to avail yourselves of the sympathy of prayer. Oh! by every motlve which your souls will acknowledge as having either sacredness or power, you are adjured, against the evil day, to insure for yourselves the " effectual fervent prayer." V. The Class-Meeting covf esses Discijplesh'ijp.—^yGVY believer is called to witness for God. You cannot have forgotten how largely our Saviour impressed upon hio immediate disciples the duty of "not being ashamed of him," and of " confessing him in the sight of men.' You will also recollect how the Apostle of the Gentiles makes confession to ^)e on a parallel with faith in that memorable passage, "If thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved. For with the heart man believeth unto righteousness, and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation,:' Such confession cannot be adequately made either by mere verbal acknowledgment or exemplary obedience, it can only be made by a solemn dedication « to God's people according to his will." Your solitary " witness" 3 CLASS-MEETING. •ly from hope and heaven, if ■ there rises one yearning ^dividual prayer can do so feet of many ? My friends, nt to rest the whole matter ould so overwhelmingly con- L indeed mnst you he in seli- in SIN, if you refuse to avail ,y of prayer. Oh ! by every will acknowledge as having , you are adjured, against the rselves the " effectual fervent yvfessrs I>iscij)lc8hij>.—Eyery ss for God. You cannot have • Saviour impressed upon hia 3uty of " not being ashamed ing him in the sight of men." iw the Apostle of the Gentiles n a parallel with faith in that thou shalt confess with thy d believe in thine heart that . the dead, thou shalt be saved. believeth unto righteousness, ?ssion is made unto salvation.''^ )o adequately made either by lent or exemplary obedience, it solemn dedication " to God's ill." Your solitary *' witness" TABOK ; OR, TUK CLASS-MEETING. 80 of obedience, or of faith, is lost like an invisible atom in the air, it is tlie union, of each particle, in itself innig- niticant, that eonstitutes (lie "cloud" of witnesses which the world can see. Ask yourselves, we pray you, whether this is not just the clement that is lacking in your religious decision. You are desirous to floe from the wrath to come — ^you have yielded in sonio measure to religious influence— you are endeavoring to "square your useful lives below by reason and by grace "—you liave even felt at times some emotions of religious joy, and yet you are not permanently happy. Why? Because you have been, pardon the word, traitorous to the grace of God, in that, like Ilezekiah of old, you have not '^rendered again according to the benefit done unto you." Oli, remember how seriously you peril, by your present conduct, the interests of your souls ! You are like a venturous traveller, who plunges, unaided and alone, into the tangled tliicket, whose every tree may covert a robber. You are like a ship that has voyaged from the fleet, and forsaken the convoy, and if a storm should arise, where are the friendly hands to launch the life-boat, or to rescue the perishing ? You are like a soldier, who, confiding in his own prowess, spurns the discipline of the regiment, and passes singly through the armies of the aliens, and if he should be surprised and stricken, where are the generous comrades to cover his retreat, or beai' him from the field, or " bind up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine ?" Nay, friends, for we can hesitate no longer ; we must deliver 40 TABOU ; OR, TUE CLASS-MEETINO. our Boul— God EEQUiRES tlus public dedication. Ho must not only have the enlightened approval of the licad, and the loyal allegiance of the heart, but the cordial cmhmce of the hand / and wo daro not refrain from the expression of an opinion, founded, wo believe, upon the requirements of the law of God, that so long as yo\i keep aloof from his people, and are not united with some branch of his visible church, you are not BAKE — YOU ARE IN DANGER. AVe believe in the present state of the antagonist armies of truth and cvtox— Neutrality is Oppodtim. " lie that is not for us is against us," and the transition is a very natural one to the belief that connection with some vhihle Iranch of tfie Church of Christ is necessary to salvation. AVe neither limit nor specify— God forbid that we should trammel the conscience of any one — ^but as right-hearted ^Methodists, Methodists from conviction and preference, we should be guiltily wrong if wo dared not recommend our own. It is not our business, it is not our wish to make proselytes. AVe would not descend from our elevation, we would not leave our vantage-ground to do it. " AVe have not so learned Chi-ist." AA'ith other churches we have no quaiTcl. AVe regard them — all who hold the head— as "houses of the Lord," and heartily do we wish them God speed. " Let there be no strife between our herdmcn and theirs." But we differ somewhat in our notions of spiritual agriculture, and haply it is our vocation to reclaim some waste lands that they would your < unwill tency hensio dealinj sauctu name « Shall JEETINO. TAnoR ; OK, TUK CLASS-MKKTINO. 41 ilic dedication. Ho icd approval of the ' the heart, but the wo dare not retrain founded, wo believe, of God, that so long , and are not united shurch, you are not to of the antagonist rality is Opposition. 3," and the transition that connection with of Christ is necessary f specify — God forbid ence of any one — ^but adists from conviction ily wrong if wo dared )t our wish to make .d from our elevation, round to do it. " We ith other churches we m — all who hold the and heartily do we e be no strife between re differ somewhat in J, and haply it is our ands that they would not think worth the tillage. You will not blame us, therefore, if while we do not disparage their oonimunion, wc prefer our own. Broad principles of philanthropy, however expansive, never root out the love of home, lie is a churl, who cannot warm himself at any hearth but his own ; and he is only half a man, who is not, after all, loudest in praise of his own ingle nook, and of the comfortable blaze that mantles from his own fire. Upon you we have a claim. You are haunted by no scruples as to the validity of our orders, or the purity of our doctrines. By your attendance upon our minis- try, you have accorded us your free and generous pre- ference. "If we are not apostles unto others, yet doubtless we arc apostles unto you." Be no longer outer court worshippers. ]*>ind yourselves to us by a tenderer tie. Come into our church. Approach the inner shrines of our worship. Attach yourselves to ou.- Class-Meetings, and you will find them to be as the " upper room," renowned for tlie rushing wind and for the cloven tongues of flame. Now, dear friends, what is your decision ? Bring all your objections, all the thousand excuses which the unwilling heart coins ; the fear of man — the inconsis- tency of professors — the dread of ridicule — the appre- hension of falling — the repugnance to declare God's dealings with you ; weigh them in the balance of the sanctuary, and ask yourselves, 1 entreat you, iu the name of God, and under the impression of his eye, » Shall I deem these apologies sufficient in the article 42 TAUiiu; (lU, THK CI.ASS-MKKTIXa. of death, jukI when the light of eternity shall flash iip.n the doings of time ?" Dear friends, our task is done. This address has been written in many weaknesses, and in much prayer. Kead it in a similar si)irit, and ask God in the socreey of your eommunion-eloset, to teach you his will. (;iiange is the great law of the present state of being. The autograph of decay is graven upon temple, and tower, and time. Our friends have faded and fallen iu our sight—" who hath not lost a friend ?" Ourselves are dying creatures. lie who writes, and you who read, will speedily pass to the judgment. Already the broad shadow of eternity looms upon us ; under that shadow meditate and decide. Everything around you seems ^o urge a recognition of tlie vast importance of the claim. The wiles of the enemy— the deccitfulnes, never yet fathomed, of the hunuiu heart— the perils of the yet untravcUed future— the awfulness of wandering onward, agonized and without a pi'aying fnend—iho blessings of Christian connnunion — the helpfulness of rich and mellow experience — the absolute requirement of God — all, as with the voice of many waters, swell the force- fulness of our last appeal, which we now fling forth upon your souls, and may heaven clothe it with power: " CoMK WITU CS, AND WK WILL DO YOU GOOD, FOB THE Lord UATU SPOKK.N GOOD CONCEUNINO ISBABX." ' .i" " '^ •- !-;ya PU "Andth thee these ilipc, to kr I'oniinandiii A PEC words in of the p under tl words a among i pie of h licart a 6 liis forty watched guided tl borders wearied voked bj [KKTINa. iiity shall flash upon his address has hcoii i in much pni^'cr. : God in tlic secrecy ;ach you his will. !rient state of being. I npou temple, and e liaded and follcn iu friend ?" Ourselves rites, and you who »nicnt. Already the ipon us; under that irything around yoii ast importance of the le deceitfulnes, never -the perils of the yet )f wandering onward, 'nend—tliQ blessings pfulness of rich and equirement of God — iters, swell the force- . we now fling forth clothe it with power : ) YOU GOOD, FOB TUB a IsBABX." f »" r PuisrsiioN's sermons. I. MEMOEIES OF THE WAY. "And thou shalt remember all the way which the Lord thy God led thee these forty years in the wilderness, to humble thee, and to prove thee, to know what was in thine heart, whether thou wouldst keep hia commandments, or no." — Dkct. viii. 2. A PECULIAR Bolemnity would be attached to these words in their original utterance, especially in the mind of the person who uttered them, for they were spoken under the shadow of approaching departure. Last words are proverbially imi)re8sivc, and these were among the last words of the veteran Moses to the peo- ple of his charge and love. Tliere had grown in hia lieart a strong afiection for the children of Israel during his forty years' administration of their affairs. lie had watched over them with fatherly tenderness, and had guided them through the intricacies of the desert, to the borders of the promised land. Often had he been wearied by their munnurings, often had he been pro- voked by their unbelief. He had been alternately the 4:i vu^ 44 MKMOmiOS Ol'" TlIK WA.V. object of their mistrust and of llieir confidence, of tiieir jealousy and of tlicir cntlmsiaem, and yet their very M-aywardnesri only sccniod the more warndy to endear them ; and, with a love stronger than death, he loved them unto the end. Aware that, l»y his unadvised speaking at the waters of Meribah, he had barred his own entrance into Canaan, and animated with a passion for the welfare of his people, intenser as the time of their separation drew nearer, he gathered them upon the plains of Moab, and in solemn and weighty words re- traced the path they had trod, warned them against their besetting dtingcrs, and exhorted them to fidelity in Jehovah's service. In the midst of this advice, the words of the text occur, Bunimoning them, so to speak, to take a mental pilgrimage over all the track which they had travelled, and to connect it with beneficial uses which might influence tlieir future lives. Such a review of the past is always Avise and salutary when it is conducted in a becoming and prayerful spirit, .md to such a review of the past, therefore, it is that we invite you to-day. We may not unprofitably accompany the children of Israel in their review of the way which they had trod ; we may learn lessons in their company which may effectually benefit ourselves. In order that we may preserve some sort of system in our contempla- tions, we will notice, in the first instance, the remem- brance of the way; secondly, the pui-pose of God's providence in the journey ; and, thirdly, tJie uses of the memory. IK WAV. llieir confidence, of their ism, and yet their very more wi'.vmly to endear ;er than deuth, he loved that, l>y his unadvised ibah, he liad barred his animated with a pasbion intenser as the time of 3 gathered them npon tlic a and weighty words re- d, warned them iagainst liorted them to fidelity in lidst of this advice, the oning them, so to speak, ovi-r all the track which mncct it with beneficial elr future lives. Such a ise and salutary when it d prayerful spirit, 08t said, y of the human heart, For though the imir- it, far from living wit- rom the polhited earth »ry is a witness that lie bears about with him iS the blasted imnlo^ a rare and a divine tity or sin pervade all re is but the flitting mjoy, but in the calen- ill time. This, then, is iw-givcr calls up into • all the way which the cse forty years in tlie e could be no grander istruction, than theirs, aned in bondage, and until now, when, after •d upon the threshold of iild have its wonder and a way which they knevr ' nature suspended, and it disorganized on their tailed beneath the very •ed them, and they had rf Sinai, while ever and [icsa the fiaBhings forth MEMOUreS OF THE WAT. 47 of the Divinity within. Sustained by perpetual mira- cle, delivered with an outstretched arm, with the bar- renness behind and the plenty before them, they were to " rcmcmler the way which the Lord had led them in the wilderness." Brethren, our own, if we will only think of it, has been an instructive history. There is much in the life of each of us, in its rest, and in its change, in its liazard, and in its deliverance, which will repay us if we revisit it to-day. Bo it ours to recall the past, to recover the obliterated circumstance, to abide again at each halting-place of our journey, to decipher the various inscriptions which the lapse of time has fretted almost to decay, to remember, as the Israelites, the way which the Lord hath led us. 1. There .would be in their history, in the first place, the rememlrance of favor, and hj consequence of joy. All through their course they had had very special^ manifestations of the power and goodness of God. Ho had brought them out with a high hand from the prido and tyranny of Pharaoh, he had cleared a path for them through the obedient waters, the heavens had rained down sustenance, the rock had quenched their thirst ; Jehovah's presence had gone with them through the tangled desert paih, by day in guiding cloud, by night in lambent flame ; their raiment had not waxed old upon them, neither their foot swelled, for forty years. He had spoiled their enemies in their sight. Sihon, king of the Amorites, and Og, 48 MKMOUIKS OK TIIK WAY. kinc of Baslmn, liad lallcn before lu8 power. When the law-<;ivor gatliorca the tril.cs in the plains of Moab,l.c coul.l say: ":Not one thing of all that the Lord your God, luith spoken hath ever failed ;" and there was not a nmrinnr in the host, and there was not an individual in the congregation that could cither gam- say or deny. Brethren, there could not fail to be great and grutelul rejoicing in this remembrance of the loving kindness of the Lord. That loving kindness has compassed us from the first moment of our existence until now, and by his favor he hath made our mountain to stand strong. I would call up before you to-day those scenes in your history upon which you arc apt to dwell with joyous and grateful ,nemory. Tliink of the gracious Provi- deuce who cared for your infancy, and who prevented your doings .n youth ; think of the unexpected deliver- ances, the unlooked-for surprises of blessing with which you have been visited ; pause before the various stones of help which you have erected in the. course of your journey ; remember the stores of gladness inexhaust- ible and constantly operating, that have been poured upon you by the bounty of your heavenly Father ; the joy of your heart, the joy peculiar to yourselves, the natural and inevitable outflow of childhood's sportivc- ness and glee, the joy of enlarging knowledge, the joy of some new discovery of the beautiful, of some keener thirst after the true ; the joy of travel, the sight of earth's great cities, fair landscapes, and spots renowned WAY. MraiORIES OF THE WAY. 40 ! Ilia po-.ver. Wliou •8 ill the plains of thing of all that tlic h ever fiiiled ;" and it, and there was not hat could either gain- he great and grateful ■ the loving kindness DBS has cojnpaesed us stenco until now, and antain to stand strong, r those scenes in yo«r to dwell with joyous if the gracious Provi- y, and who prevented he unexpected deliver- 5f hlessing with which ore the various stones in the course of your A' gladness inexhaust- liat have been poured heavenly Father ; the iliar to yourselves, the if childhood's sportivc- ng knowledge, the joy autiful, of some keener )f travel, the sight of DS, and spots renowned in song and story ; the joy of home, c>f parents whoso love has cast a spell uj)on your after-lives, from which vdii would not he disenchi\nteyon- dcrful interpcition at the Eed Sea, their murmunngs beffau. The miracle at Marah, although it appeased their thirst, failed to inspire their eontidence, lor they tcnpted Gud again at the Waters of Strife. AU.ough the manna fell without censing, they lusted after the fleshpots of Egypt. n.cir ^vhole history, indeed, is a record of perpetual sin, a perpetual lapse, now into iealousy, and now into sensualism, now into ivnbehet, and now, alas, into idolatry. Tliese repeated trans- gressions, of necessity, introduced them to sorrow, an I they snlYered, in almost every variety, the strokes of Jehovah's displeasure. They were wasted by success- h-e pestilences; they were devoured by fiery BejTents in the .vilderness; the earth opened her mouth and pwallowed up the rebellious sons of Korah ; the Lord went not forth with their hosts to battle ; and they fled discomfited and crestfallen before the face of their enemies. Their journey was made protracted and AY. MKMOKIKrt UK iUK WAY. 51 it\rl privtofnl in tho tiinop, many a lip full, as you rcmein- ed you iu the wil- their history tho re- lence of sin, the re- more remarkable as lie depravity of the rith which tho chihl- davs after the won- la, their niunnuringH Ithough it appeased contidcnce, for they of Strife. Altliough they lusted after the history, indeed, it* a taal lapse, now into n, noAV into unbelief, lieee repeated trans- them to sorrow, and aviety, the strokes of •0 wasted by success- red by fiery sei-pents cncd her month and =5 of Korah ; the Lord battle ; and they fled )re the face of their made protracted and diingeroua. Bi'reavement visited cvt-ry tent in turn. Out! after another the heatl of each fuiiiily bowed, and sunk, and full, 'iiifil of all tlioKo who left Kirypt, stal- wart and binewy men, only two, aiul tliose of another Kpirit, reniaiiicd to enter into the land of promise and of rest; and tlie very hiw<^iver who culled u]) the exercise of th(! memory, and the few old men, upon- whose brown tho almond tree was ilourishing, thinly scattered hero and there among tho tribes, knew that their heads must bow, their frames dissolve in death, ero tho van-standard of the liost could be unfurled within the borders of the promised land. There could not fail to bo subdued and pensive emotion in this aspect of tho renu'mbranco of tho way. Our own history has its sorrowful side, too, which it will be well for us to remember to-day. All sorrow, of course, comes originally from sin, but there is somo sorrow which wo inherit from no personal transgression, but which has been handed down to us, a sad entail of sufTering, a disastrous transmission from our earliest fathers. Tho remembrance of such sorrows stretches far back in tho history of every one's life. Perhapa you were crnelly treated in youth, and you can hardly think of it now without shuddering. Perhaps somo bitter disappointment made your path ungenial, or somo early uukindness came like a frost-blight upon your fiesh, young hopes, just when you were beginning to indulge them. Perhaps a long sickness chained you down, and yoii suffered the illness of hope deferred, 52 MEMOlilKS OF Tllh WAV. and you Avondered whether the cheek would ever bloom again in the ruddiness of health, and whether the elas- tic puke would ever bound and bwell through the veins. Perhaps there are other memories— most likely there are-so dense in their darkness as to cast all the rest into a relief of lesser shadow. The first breaking up of your homes, the stroke that swept you into orphan- hood, or that took away ihe desire of your eyes witli a stroke, or that cast you upon a cold world's charities for work and bread. Call up tliese memories, thougli the heart bleeds afresh as you think of them. They have their uses; they need not be summoned for the first time in vain. And then the memory of siu- don't hide it, don't be cowardly about it; confront your yesterdays, not in defiance, but in penitence and prayer ; your long resistance to the strivings of the Holy Spirit, the veiled impertinence with which you refused to hearken to a father's counsels and were deai" to the entreaties of a mother's prayers. The sins of your youth, which, though you humbly trust are par- doned by the grace of God, plague you still, like the scars of some old wound, with shooting pains in many a change of weather. Your unfaithfulness since the Lord called you, your indulgence since your conversion in things you dared not for your lives have done while you were seekii.g mercy. How you have cherished some secret idol, or forborne to deliver them that were drawn to death, or dwelt in your ceiled houses, intent only upon you own aggrandizement and pleasure, )F TUH, WAY. the cheek would ever bloom lealth, and whether the elas- iuul bwell through tho vchis. neuiories— most likely there; kuess as to cast all the rest low. The liriit breaking up that swept you into orphan- le desire of your eyes with a ipon a cold world's charities 1 up these memories, though 8 you think of them. They sd not be summoned for the then the memory of sin- cowardly about it; confront [efiancc, but in penitence and ance to the strivings of the rapertinence with which you ther's counsels and were deaf other's prayers. The sins of ;h you humbly trust are par- ked, plague you still, like the with shooting pains in many i'our unfaithfulness since the iulgence since your conversion for your lives have done while y. How you have cherished )rne to deliver them that were t in your ceiled houses, intent ggrandizement and pleasure, MKMOKIKS Ol'' THIO WAV. 53 while the house of God lay waste. Call up these memories, do not disguise them ; tlioy will bow you in lunnility before God. This is the memory of tho way. "Thou shalt re- member all the way which the Lord thy God hath led thee." All the way— it is necessary that all the way should be remembered— the liill of ditliculty as well as the valley of humiliation, the time of prosperity as well as the time of pain. Necessary for our advantage that we may understand our position, learn the lessons of providence and grace; necessary tiiat we may con- struct a narrative, for every event in our history is con- nected and mutually interpreted; necessary that we may trace the outwork..-- of Jehovah's plan in the successive achievements of our lives. And if by the memory of joy you are impressed with God's benefi- cence, kept in cheerful piety, and saved from the foul sin of repining; and if by the memory of sorrow you arc molded into a gentler type, taught a softer syni- pathy, and receive a heavenward impulse, and antici- pate a blessed reunion ; if by the memory of sin you are reminded of your frailty, and rebuked of your pride, stimulated to repentance and urged to trust m God— then it will be no irksomeness, but a heaven-sent and precious blessing that you have thus « remembered the way that the Lord hath led thee in the wilder- iiesb. )j II I come, secondly, to notice the pcbposes of Divine Providence in the jouenev. Tliese are stated to bo 64 MICMOKIKS Ol' 'nil'- WAT. three- "to humble thee and to prove thee, to know what was in thine heart, whether thou wouldest keep his coin.nandments or no." The passage tells us that in all God's dealings with the children of Israel, whether ho correetod tliena in judgment or enriched them with bounty, there were purposes at work-purposes of spi- rituardisciplino, intended to induce self-searclung and the improvement of their hearts and lives. 1 The first purpose that is spoken of is to indua humility-- io humble thee." Every event, alike u) their deliverance from Egypt and in their passage throu-h the wilderness, was calculated to show them their "own feebleness, and their constant dependence upon a high and upon a superior power. What could human might have effected for them in the way of securing their deliverance from Egypt? Tlieir spirits were broken by long years of slavery ; the iron had not only gyved their limbs, it had entered into their soul. Tiiey had not the heart, any one of them, to strike for freedom ; and if they had even meditated a rising, they were a people of such divided counsels, and so dis- trustful of each other, that it would have been but a paroxysm of frantic rebellion, which would have root, d the Pharaohs on the empire, and have riveted uj) n themselves the yoke of a more bitter bondage. Wlum the permission 'for departure w^ns wrung reluctantly from the plague-stricken king, what could human might have availed for them, when he repented of his momentary graciousness, and pursi.od after them in hot haste, an. with the of feroci( perience They we had ever pitched t hour the; strike tlu campmei marches over it : went, th matin so: congrega or wood^ sound, ance. I! mured l yeai'S up had the gracefuU with mai AT. MEMOKIKS OF JlIK WAY. 55 rove thee, to know ;bou wouldest keep lassago tells us that m of Israel, whether enriched them with .lc_pnrpose3 of spi- B self-searching and d lives. ken of is to indua ery event, alike in id in their passage latcd to show them ;onstant dependence lower. What could hem in the way of igypt? Tlieir spirits !ry ; the iron had not tered into their soul, if them, to strike for jditated a rising, they counsels, and so dis- ild have heen h\it a ch would have ront^ >\ rl have riveted uj) i; ttcr bondage. Wh«;u IS wrung reluctantly what could human en ho repented of his 31 od after them in hot haste, and they were on the borders of the Red Sea, with the giant waves barring their progress, and a host of ferocious enemies behind i Everything in their ex- perience taught them their dependence upon God. They wore led through a region that no adventurer had ever explored, no foot had ever trod. When they pitched their tents at eventide, they knew not at what hour they should strike them, nor whether they should strike them at all ; there might be forced years of en- campment in that one spot; there might be forced marches and rapid progress ; but they had no control over it : as the pillar went, and wherever the pillar went, they went ; and as they sounded forth their matin song of praise, there was not a rian in the whole congregation that could tell througli ^l i * rocky clefts or woody defiles the echoes of tlic v^ • • mn woixld sound. Their supply was as miraculoi.^ us their guid- ance. No plough had turned up the soil, no river mur mured by their side, they had never gazed for fortj years upon one solitary blossom of the spring-time, nor had the golden grain ever once in their sight bent gracefully to the sickle of the reaper : they were fed with manna, which they knew not. " When faint they were and parched with drought, Water at his word gushed out." Oh ! it is the world's grandest illustration of man's absolute feebleness and of God's eternal power. 600,000 fighting men, beside women and cliildren, led by Divine 56 MKMoKIKS Ol- TlIK WAY. leadership, and fed by Divine bounty, for the space of forty years. Brethren, the dealings of Providence with ourselves are intended to show us our dependeuco upon God, and to humble us in the dust under his mighty hand. Wo arc very proud, sometimes, and we talk about our endowments, and we boast largely of what wo have done, and what we intend to do; but we can do absolutely nothing. Tlie athletic frame— how Boon can he bring it down 1 The well-endowed heritage— hovr soon can he scatter it 1 The mental glance, keen and piercing— how soon can he bring upon it the dimness and bewilderment of years ! AVe cannot, any one of us, bring ourselves into being ; we cannot, any one of us, sustain ourselves in being for a moment. Alas! who of us can stay the spirit, when the summons hits gone forth that it must die? We are free; we cannot help feeling that we are free ; and yet we can as litdc help feeling that our freedom is bounded, that it has a horizon, something that indicates a watchful Providence outside. How often have we aimed at building for ourselves tabernacles of remembrance and of rest, and we have gazed upon the building joyfully as it pro- gressed to completion, and then the breath of the Lord has blown upon it, and it has been scattered, and we have been turned adrift and shelterless; and, lol dwellings already provided for us of firmer materials and of more excellent beauty, upon which w.e bestowed no labor nor thought. And so it is with all the matters of human glory. Tlie strong man rejoiceth in his strength iinus, b man gk teption, ance, tli his rich foresee, meiits c Alil l)uni ii liitely wlien € whom iugl life, on otfonce heavei tion 01 are po our d lesson sins y the p correc you i merci p-atit lie hi Valk WAY. [ity, for Ihe space of ;9 of Providence with our ck'pendeiico upon ist under his mighty otimcs, and we talk ist largely of what wo o do ; but we can do frame — how soon can iowed heritage — how tital glance, keen and upon it the dimness ''o cannot, any one of we cannot, any one of or a moment. Alas! len the summons hits e are free ; we cannot id yet we can as little bounded, that it has a a watchful Providence limed at building for ranee and of rest, and ing joyfully as it pro- the breath of the Lord been scattered, and we shelterless; and, lol us of firmer materials )on which w.e bestowed b is with all the matters man rejoiceth in his MEMORIKS OF TlIK WAY. 57 strength, and magnitieth himself in the might of h.s ,nus, but the Lord hath made him strong; the wise ,uau ..brifieth hi.nsolf in his intellect, but the clear per- ception, and the brilliant fancy, and the tluent utter- ance, these are God's gifts ; the rich man rejoiceth in his riches, but the prudence to plan, and the sagacity to foresee, and the industry to gather, these arc the bestow- ineiits of God. Alil why will men sacrifice to their own net, and burn incense to their own drag, when they have abso- lutely nothing which they have not received; and when every gift cometh from the Father of light, with Avhom there is no variableness, neither shadow of turn- i„.r 1 And in the realm of morals, and in the spiritual lilV our feebleness is the same. A conscience void of olfence, a good report of those that arc without a heavenly purpose or a holy resolve, the inner purifica- tion or the comely outgrowth of a beneficent life— we are poor to compass them. We acquire them only by our dependence upon God. Have you learned this lesson, this deep, hard lesson of humility ? Forty years' sins you have committed! have they humbled you m the presence of God? Forty years' chastenings have corrected you ! have they humbled your pride or iretted you into greater audacity of rebellion? Forty years' mercies have blessed you! have they excited your .n-atitude or inflated your vanity ? Brethren, we must be humbled, if we would be happy. It wan m the Vall(;y of Humiliation, you remember, that the lad that 8* S8 MEM0RIK3 OK THE WAT. had the herb heart's-ease in his boBom kept his serene and his rt>joicinK' bomc. '> Then the second purpose of God's provideucc in the journey is to prove ns. The idea soenis to be, that a skilU-ul chemist employs tests for the purpose of ana- lysis, and to discover tlie composition of that which h examines, so God uses the occurrences of life as a moral touchstone, to discover the tendencies and incbnations of man. Thus wc read God did tempt, test, try, prove Abraham, requiring from him a sacrifice, excessive and apparently cruel, in order that he migbt know the strength of his servant's faith, and of his filial fear. There were many of those testing circumstances m the history of the children of Israel. They were tested by their mercies, as when, feeling the manna insipid, they lusted after the flesh-pots of Egypt ; they were tested by their duties ; they were tested by their calamities, as at the Eed Sea, and in the conflicts with the bests ol Amalek. They were tested by their compariions, as when they formed unholy league with Midianite idola- ters, and brought upon themselves that swift destruction which Balak wished for, but which the cowardly Balaam dared not for his life invoke. Brethren, God has Ins crucible still. In our past lives we shall find circum- stances that have tried ourselves, and we shall remem- ber the results of the trial sometimes with devout gratitude, oftener with unfeigned shame. Our afllic- tions have tried us, and we have thought that we have done well to be angry, and we have arraigned the pro- ceedings mockery ( of to-morr to-day wa us. Wo result has their spi unjust or or with 1 trusted, 1 ing out ] things h ineeknesi spoken v to pray, grasp tl Bcventyi ns, and reliance mold of a point( curled, very co God. '. the wil( if we hi shall b( sinful whethe AT. lom kept lu8 sereno iod's providcucc in !a Boems to be, that the purpose of ana- on of that which hi COB of life as a moral jics and inclinations smpt, test, try, prove crificc, excessivo and liC might know the lid of his filial fear. circuniBtances in the They were tested by 5 manna insipid, they ; ; they were tested by their calamities, as at tB with the liosts of their compariione, as with Midianite idola- s that swift destruction [\ the cowardly Balaam Brethren, God lias his we shall find circura- , and we shall remem- tnietimes with devout ;d shame. Our afilic- thought that we hftve ave arraigned the pro- MUMOUIKB OF THE WAY. 59 ccedings of God at the bar of our limited reason (solemn mockery of judicature !) when, perhaps, the reflection of to-morrow would have approved what the distrust of to-day was so ready to condemn. Our duties have tried us. We have felt the shrinking of the flesh, and the rcBult has been sometimes their reluctant and sometimes their spiritless discharge. Other people have been unjust or unkind to us : we have met with ingratitude or with treachery ; our own familiar one, in whom we trusted, has betrayed us ; slander has been busy belch- ing out her calumnies against our tair fame ; all these things have tested our patience, our endurance, our meekness, our long-sufi-ering, and, like Moses, we have Bpoken unadvisedly, or, like the disciples, we have had to pray, » Lord, increase our faith," before we could grasp the large and princely idea of forgiveness to seventy times seven. Often companionships have tried us, and we have shown how small has been our self- reliance and how easily we have taken the hue and mold of the society in which we were thrown, and how a pointed finger, or a sarcastic laugh, or a lip scornfully curled, can shame the manhood out of us, and make us verv cowards in resisting evil, or in bearing witness for God. Thus have we been, thus has God proved us in the wilderness, and if we are in earnest for heaven, and if we have in any measure profited by the discipline, we shall be thankful for the trial. Placed as wo are m a sinful world, exposed to its every-day influences, whether of good or evil, we need a piety which can CO MKMORIK9 OK 'niK WAY. luaiiitain itself in all circumstances, and nudcr every pressure. The trial will be a matter of clioico, preferred by every godly and valiant Christian Boldior. llu feels as tlioiigli that were an inglorious heaven that was won without a sacritice and without a toil ; he kni)\vs that the promise is not that he phall pass through the wilderness without the sight of an enemy ; it is a better promise than that— that we shall never sec an enemy that we cannot master, and that by God's grace wo can- not completely overcome ; and he had rather don his armor for a foeman worthy of his steel, for an enemy that will at once prove his own valor and show the resources of the Captain of his salvation, than he would don it in order to prance in the gorgeous apparellings of some holiday review. Oh ! believe me, the piety whicli the world needs, which the church needs, and which we must have if we would be approved of our Great Master, must not be that sickly sentiinentaiity which lounges on ottomans, and discusses social and moral problems while it is at ease in Sion ; it must be the hardy principle pining in inaction, robust from healthy exercise, never so happy as when it is climbing up the slopes of some difficult duties, and has the breeze from the crest of the mountain stirring amid its waving hair; and happy, thrice happy, will it be for you if, as the result of the inspection, you can say, as David did, " Thou hast proved my heart and thou hast visited nic in the night ; thou hast tried me and shalt find nothing. I am purposed that my heart shall not transgress, con- WAY. MEMORIES OF TOE WAT. ea ices, and nuder every ter of cl-.oicc, preferred ihristian soldier, llu )riou3 lieavoii that was liout a toil ; ho km)\vs kIiuU pass through the [1 enemy ; it is a better 1 never see an enemy by God's grace wo can- he had rather don his lis steel, for an enemy n valor and show the dvation, than he would orgeous apparellings of JVC me, the piety whicli 3h needs, and which mc l)proved of our Great y sentiineutaiity which iisses social and moral I Sion ; it must be the )n, robust from healthy ;n it is climbing up the nd has the breeze from g amid its waving hair ; it be for yon if, as the an say, as David did, nd thou hast visited nic i and shalt find nothing, hall not transgress, con- cerning the works of men ; by the word of thy lips I liavc kept me from the paths of the destroyer." ,3. And then the third purpose of Providence in the journey is " to hicno what was ifi thine /(mr^— whether thou wouldcst keep his commandments or no." Tlic human heart is a microcosm — a little world, containing in itself all the strifes, and all the hopes, and all the fears, and all the ventures of the larger world outside. Tlio human heart ! who can unravel its mystery, or decipher its hidden law? The smile may play upon the lip, while beneath there is the broken, burning heart ; and, on the other hand, the countenance may have shadow of anxiety, while the sunlight dances gaily on the soul. Tlie human heart! Human knowledge can give us very little acquaintance with it ; such knowledge is too won- derful for man ; it is high, and he cannot attain unto it ; but there is One who knows it, and knows all its tortuous policy, and all its sinister motive, and he is anxious that we should know it, too, and one purpose of his provi- dential dealings with us is, that we may know what is in our heart; and yet of all sciences none is so difficult of attainment as this same science of self-knowledge. Whether it be from the deceitfulness of the object of study, or whether it be from the morbid reluctance, almost amounting to fear, with which men shrink from acquaintance with themselves, there are few that have the bravery to pray, "Lord, make me to know myself." Indeed, it were a hideous picture if it were suddenly unveiled in the presence of us all. When the Lord 'tsm 02 MliMOBIKS OF TUB WAY. would show Ezelilol the abominations of Jerusalem, lie led him through euccL-ssive clmmbcrs of imiigery, upon the walls of which were portrayed their loathsome and unworthy doings. Ah 1 if our enormities were to ho thus tapestried in our bight, who oi us could bear tlie disclosure? There was deep self-knowledge and deep humility in the word of the old reformer, who, when he saw a criminal led off amid the jeers of the multitude to be hanged at Tyburn, turned around sighing, and said : "There, but for the grace of God, goes old John Brad- ford." There is a very affecting illustration of what can lurk unsuspected in the human heart, in the 8th chapter of the 2nd book of Kings: "And Elisha came to Damascus ; and Ben-hadad, the king of Syria, was sick ; and it was told him, saying. The man of God is conic hither. And the king said unto llazael. Take a present in thine hand, and go, meet the man of God, and in- quire of the Lord by him, saying, Shall I recover of this disease? So llazael went to meet him, and took a pre- sent witli him, even of every good thing of Damascus, forty camels' burden, and came and stood before him, and said. Thy son, Ben-hadad, king of Syria, hath sent me to thee, saying, Shall I recover of this disease? And Elisha said unto him, Go, say unto him, Tliou mayest certainly recover. [The disease itself is not fated to destroy thee ; there is no decree of that kind]. Howbeit the Lord hath showed mo that he shall surely die. And he settled his countenance steadfastly, until be was ashamed ; and the man of God wept. And Hazael said. Why \^ know t Israel ; voimg their c And H utrocitii should quaint! there li of char resistan better many a crime, come h of retri in that sad mu express that he hen tag would ] their o the ten wllO CO agiues verge c and liti MKMOKIKJ OK TinO WAY. «8 B of Jerusalem, be I of iiniigery, upon loir loathsome ami luiticH were to lifi us could bear tlie owledge and deqi [ucr, who, when he of the multitude to sighing, and said : oes old John Brad- ,tration of what can ;, in the 8tli chapter id Elisha came to J of Syria, Avas sick ; uiu of God is conic zael. Take a present lan of God, and in- lall I recover of this lim, and took a pre- thing of Damascus, 1 stood before liini, of Syria, hath sent >f this disease 2 And 1 him, Tliou mayest self is not fated to hat kind]. Howbeit lie shall surely die. idfastly, until be was t. And Hazael said, Why woepeth my lord? And he answered, Bocauee I know the evil that thou wilt do unto the children of Israel ; their Kirongholds wilt thou set on fire, and their ynimg men wilt thou slay with the sword, and wilt dash their children, and rip up their women with cliild. And Hazael said [shocked at the bare mention of such iitrocities], But what, is thy servant a dog, that ho should do this great thing?" But, as the old divino quaintly says, "the dog did it after all." Brethren, there lurks this danger in us all ; there is no superiority of character in ourselves; there is no firmer power of resistance to evil. In our unaided strength we are no better fortified against the extremes of iniquity than many around us who now wallow in the atrocities of crime. That speculative merchant, whose aflairs had be- come hopelessly embarrassed, and who, in the vain hope of retrieval, plied the too ready pen of the forger, and in that sad moment forfeited the probity of years — how sad must have been his rellections when, to use his own expressive words, ho "agonized on," when he thought that he should transmit to his children nothing but the heritage of a blasted name, and that those children would have an up-hill struggle all the way through life, their o^vn blamelessness being a small matter against the terrible opprobrium of their father's misdoings. lie who continues in the feast until wine inflames him, im- agines that he can tread without danger upon the giddy verge over which mviltitudes have fallen ; but, by little and little, he cherishes the unappeasable thirst for dr'nt 64 Mb:MuUlKM Ot THE WAY. until it l.t'pomcs a morbid phyKical iimludy, and, JVantic and di'siiuiriii;^', lu; nislicH down into tlio drunkanr.* gravu. Tliat .yuiitli who, ut flic Bolicitation »»f sonio j,'ii,v conii.anion, vuntnres, lor the first tinio, into the foul iiell (.f a «,Mniiiig-hou8e, and who joins in the perilous haziinl, wouM Bi;otf at the prophet who should tell him that, :i lew years hence, a gambler and a spendthrift, he bhuulil live in jntverty and die in slianie. Tiiat young muii who, to gain funds, perhaps, for the Sundav excursion. or for the n-ight's debauch, took the money from his master's till with the conscientious intention t)f rei)liic- iug it at the time of the quarterly supply, little thought that that deceitful heart of his would land him in a felon's dock, or, npon the deck of the transport shiii, waft him to a returidess distance from his country and his home. Brethren, from a thousand causes of disaster aud of shame with which our experience can furnish m, and which we read in the history of every-day life, it becomes us, with godly jealousy watching over our own hearts, to guard against the beginnings of evil ; and as we think of blighted reputations aad of ruined hopes— of many once fair, and innocent, and scrupidoue, and promising as we — as wo gaze npon the wreck of many a gallant vessel stranded by our side, which we saw steaming out of the harbor with stately pennons — let im remember that in us there are the same tendencies to evil, that it is grace — only grace — which hath made us to differ, and that each instance of calamity and of sin, while it evokes our pity — not our scorn — for those tiuit have Ro j monition f^tiUHJeth tliiiie hci inonts or III. If liiive tn which w know UK you did way hot severity tli(> good ;i Siivioii w;is tlio Wild ther wore ha tliem, ar Bei lent, dcrness wildernc tliat win sliould 1 those m sorrow, ■ 11CS8 and noss to : repeate<] yourselv a«» VAY. iimludy, and, iVaiitic into tho drunkftnlV ifitatitm »»f sonio j;iiv iiio, into the Ibiil hell I the poriioim haziinl, ould tull him that, ;i pundthrift, ho bhuukl !. Tliat yoiiiij,' niuii 10 Sunday oxcuibioii, the money from his intention ot' n'phic- jiipply, little thouglit iould land him in a t" tho transport bhiji, tVoin hi.s country and and causes of disaster ricnce can furnish m, r of every-day life, it atching over our own minga of evil ; and as lad of ruined hopes— and 8ci"upulou8, and )n the wreck of many • side, which we saw ;atcly pennons — let us 16 same tendencies to -which hath made us f calamity and of sin, ' scorn — for those tiiut MKMUlUliS «)K TUIC WAV. 65 have so grievously ei-red, shoiiM proclaim in solemn ad- iiiiiiution to ourselves, " Let him that thinkelh ho ftiuideth take heed lest he fall." "To know what is in tliino heart, whether thou wotildest keep his eommand- iDoiits or no." 111. Jf you have tlius travelled in the way that you liiive tntdden, tliere will he .maw isr.s ok tuk mkmokv which wo eamiot stay to particularize to-day. You will know more of God at the conclu 'on of your visit than you did at tho commencement. You will behold in the way both tho goodness and the severity of God — tho severity which punishes sin wiicrcvcr it is to be found, till" goodness which itself provides a substitute ami linds ;i Saviour. Where do you not ihi<\ him, rather? There was the stream gushing forth from the smitten rock — was there not? — and tho perishing and thirsty Israelites were hai)py. "Tliey drank of the rock that followed them, and that rock was Christ." There was the brazen sei lent, the symbol of accepted propitiation in the wil- derness of sill. " As Moses lifted up the serpent in tho wilderness, even so hath the Son of Man been lifted np, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but sliould have everlasting life." Oh, as you gather up those memories — the memory of joy, the memory of sorrow, tho memory of sin — as you remember the good- ness and the loving kindness of the Lord, his faithful- ness to fulfill his promises, his tenderness, which your repeated rebellions have not caused to fail — gather up yourselves in one earnest consecration of flesh and 66 MKMUlilKS OF TIJK WAV. spirit, which I take to be the best consc-ration of tk house which you now dedicate to God-living temploB, pillars in the house of G )d, that shall go out no more forever. ,F TUK WAY. the best conseon, go work to-day nmrkablo fact, one this voice is never iiitli ; consequently, ter of tlio CLristiau melted by its love, It it in its power. ; the attainment of nowledge, the grasp intellect, the posses- [uence, the treasures cscarch of the most 3 useless, worse than by the Spirit of the ; decorate the traitor, !r ; only the weapons he portents of more 3 most distinguished he Catholic Church, lowever signally his •eason to remember, ireer, " I am nothing, ncyisofGod." Tiie ine contained in tl>e jrs, of whom it was istians in general, to lied. The station is TUK BKUEVEU'S SUKFICIKNCY. 71 diltcrcnt, the strength is the same. Your suffi- ciency, as well as ours, is of God. To take the wonh in this extended sense, wc may find in them matter of profitable meditation, by considering first the nature of this sufficiency and then the authority \\lnch believers have to expect this sufficiency for themselves. I. First, the sufficiency of God may be cr^sidcrcd either as pkopeu, or cosqidnicatkd. By his essential, or l.roper sulficiency, we mean that he is self-existent, self- sufficient, independently happy ; angels ai d men may (leclaro that they cannot increase his glory ; it is eter- nal, underived, perfect. lie has said that he will never give it to another. There was no necessity in his nature impelling him to create the universe ; he conld have existed alone, and he did exist alone, long be- fore the everlasting silence was broken by a human footstep, or interrupted by a human voice ; and that Divine solitude was the solitude of matchless happiness. The best praises, therefore, the most extensive services uf his worshippers, are but reflections of the glory which dwells originally in himself. But it is of the sufficiency of God in relation to his creatures that it is our province especially to speak. And it is in this sense God is good to all, and his tender mercies are over all his works. 1. He is sufficient, in the first place— let us take low ground first— /or the preservation of the universe which \k hands have made. From the sublime account 72 THE nKLIEVER's SUFFICIENCY. Mhich the Scriptures give us of creation, we learn that the heavens were made by hun, and all the host ol them bv the breath of his mouth ; and as we know that iiothin- earthly has within it the power to sustain itsclt, we are further assured that he upholdeth all tlungs hy the same word of his power. It is by this ever-breath- in- word, constantly in exercise, that the sun ehmes, thtt t!ie moon walks in brightness, that the stars pursue their courses in the sky; the clouds arc marshalled by his Divine decree, and when he uttercth his voice there is a multitude of waters in the heavens. Eeason looks at this systematic and continuous regularity, and admires it, and refers it to the operation of second causes, and argues very philosophically about the nature and fitness of things; but piety looks through the complications of the mechanism to the hand that formed it. The universe is to her but one vast trans- parency, through which she can gaze on God ; her pathway and her communion are on the high places of creation, and there, far above all secondary and sub- ordinate agencies, she discovers the hiding of liis power. The symmetry of nature is to her more beautiful, because God has produced it. Tlic deep harmonies of the systems come more tunefully upon her ear because the hand of the Lord has awakened them. ' '■, ■■/''' " What though no real voice nor sound . , , ,^ Amid tho radiant orbs be found? ,, , In faith's quiclt car thoy all rejoice, And utter forth a noble voice, ' from c God. of tho at the in tho there strong liabite selves, enees the ea with i are bi know] the af platio tion, [ENCT. ation, we learn that ,nd all tlio host of md as we know that iwcr to sustain itself, oldeth all things hy i by this ever-breath- :hat the sun ehines, that the stars pursue 8 arc marshalled by tercth his voice there ivens. Eeason looks 0U8 regularity, and operation of second lophically about the t piety looks through ism to the hand that )r but one vast trans- [1 gaze on God ; her on the high places of I secondary and sub- le hiding of his power. her more beautiful, lie deep harmonies of npon her car because ed them. CO nor sound ; found? all rejoice, roice, Tllli UELIEVEU'S 8UKFI0IKJJCY. For ever singing as tlicy shine, ' The hand tliat made us is Divine.' " 78 And what a contemplation does this open to us of the majesty and power of God! Who can understand it? The planets are kept in their orbits, and the seasons continually alternate. Old Ocean dashes himself upon tiie shore, and every day finds " hitherto " written upon the sand, and the nuid surge respects it. The earth yields her increase ; vegetable life is evolved ; circula- don takes place tliroughout the animal system ; man walks and lives, and all these diversified operations are produced at one and the same moment, perpetuated from one moment to another by the simple word of God. Extend your conceptions still further ; take hold of the far-reaching discoveries of astronomy. Glance at the numberless suns and systems that are scattered in the broad field of immensity, and remember (for there is no Scripture again.st it, and probabilities are strongly in favor of the opinion), that they are all in- habited by dependent creatures somewhat like our- selves. Glance at the almost infinite variety of exist- ences with which we are acquainted— whether we walk the earth, or cleave the air, or swim the sea— connect with all these the Scriptural announcement that these are but parts of his ways, and how little a portion is known of them; and then how thought shrinks from the aggregate ! how the brain recoils from the contem- plation of the sum! and we may well finish the quota- tion, and say, "The thunder of his power, who ci^.n 4 74 TIM BEUCTEII'S SCmClBKCV. „n,lc«lan^^ .reservation and for the perj>etuUy of tl. Gospel pla, in the salvation and uUimate happ^ness of every .^. .ulual heliever. Christianity is not to be v-ved by u n.trely as a moral system; that .ere to place it o a level with the speculations of Confucius, and Sociate . and others. It is something more, it is a course ot Divine ( ethical i biuidlo ai^cncy i AVc obs^ to prod hearers, luiman know ; stances, Tliey c£ blc, tht Christii mcnse : single either lawless then t! read o when strains died a orator spell : begins aflair i memo truth, Banctil NCY. THE DIXIE VEb's SUFFICIENCY. 75 upon tho subject by searcbing cau- tbe swiftness of a tbo limits of the ages coutiiiuo your lid never— wbo can !• us — never be uble never ligbt upon a not essentially and miverse ia one vast jvery department ot tuary, every part of cle, wbose circuinfe- very section is filled "or a moiucnt, to rc- tbrougb tbe beart of libition of boundless e, singing- is ours, Bve." be is sufRcient/or ih ty of tlie, Gospel plan, ppincss of every indi- ot to be viewed by us •were to place it on a mfucius, and Socrates, ore, it is a course of Divine operations. "VVe are not to regard it as a mere ethical statement of doctrine made known to us by a bundle of books ; • we must remember tbo Divine agency always, by which it is conducted and inspired. Wc observed before, that no mere man has the power to produce an abiding change upon tho hearts of his hearers. Human eloquence is a mighty thing, I know ; human reason is a persuasive and powerful thing, I know ; under certain favorable conjunctures of circum- stances, they have sometimes achieved mighty results. They can shame a Herod, they can make a Felix trem- ble, they can almost persuade an Agrippa to become a Christian, but they can do no more. I know that im- mense multitudes have been swayed by the iiower of a single tongue. Tlie passions have become excited, either to madness or to sympathy, either to deeds of lawless aggression, or to deeds of higb emprise; but then there is only a transient mastery obtained. We read of a harp in tbo classical fables of old, which, when the winds swept it, was said to discourse sweet strains ; but then, unhappily, tbe breeze and the music died away together. So it is with the triumpb of tho orator : the moment tbe voice of the speaker ceases tho spell is broken, the charm is dissipated; reflection begins to remonstrate against excitement, and the wlude aflair is forgotten, or comes upon tho soul only as the memory of some pleasant song. Nay, truth, celestial truth, can produce no abiding change. Pardon and sanctification are not the neceesary consequences of 70 TlIK UKI.IKVKk'b BUKFICIKNCV. btatements uf ductrino. Scripturo cannot produce thuui ; the truth nmy appear in all its cogency and in all its power l)c-loro tl.o iu'ukI— it may appear ho ck-ar as to extort an acquiescence in what it propounds; but it ifl uninlluential ; it hicks ener-y, and it hieks a hcU'- appliant power. It nuiy i-nli-hten-tl.at is its province —it can never t^iive. Witliout the !>j.irit it is useless; let the Spirit auiuiate it, and it is the power of God. Hearers who sit under the ministrations of the trntl'. without the Spirit may ho likened to a man standing upon the brow of a hill which commands the pros{.eit of an c.vtensive landscape. The varied beauties of flood and of lield are before him ; nature is clad in her richest livery, there is every variety calculated to interest and to inspire ; ru^'geil rocks frown as if they would keq. sentinel over the sleeping valley ; the earth yields her increase, the crystal streamlet leaps merrily along, iiu- pressi(jns of the beautiful are everywhere visible, there is just one drawback to the picture, and that one draw- back is, that the man who stands upon the summit of the hill is blind. That is precisely the state of the case in reference to truth in the Bible. It is there in all its grandeur, but the man Las no eyes to see it. Let the Spirit come and take the scales away and shred off the spiritual ophthalmia, and he sees the landscape stretch- in" before him in all its hues of beauty, and his soul is elevated and he feels the full rapture of the pccne. Prevailing truth, therefore, is not of the letter but of the Spirit, for " the letter killcth, but the Spirit givetb life." Th (Mlt of tlu I know tl (if jiroced tiling ; n another Aiiod hii nicnso d tliCBC tal said, iu ' just as 1 as if he most sti no force of. On an Enjj may wl trato tl monarc will. ' and th will of us, tha uvcryt' But h [KNCV. •0 cannot produce I its cogency and in luiiy appear ho clear t it propounds; Imt , and it lacks a hcIi- — tliat id its province i S]iirit it is useless; i the power of God. [rations of the trntl: i to a man Btandiug umands tlie pros{ieit iried beauties of flood is clad in lier riclicut dated to interest ami ft if tliey would keq) the earth yields hel- ps merrily along, im- [•ywherc visible, there ■e, and that one draw- i upon the summit of f the state of the case . It is there in all its yea to see it. Let the ,vay and shred off the the landscape stretch- beauty, and liis soul is rapture of the scene, it of the letter but of , but tlie Spirit giveth Tine nia-iivKit's si iiiiikn<'V. 1 ( life" This Spirit it is that is promiscl for the carrying out of the (iospel, and it fh.Mvfnre must be HU-cossfnl. I know there is a '^o.d deal nf ditlimlty ub,.ut Ins n.ode „r procedure : (iod's word n.ust be fninihd, that .s one U.i„.; man's freedom must be n.aintained, that is another thing. Man is a moral .g.nt ; (Jod has en- dued him ^vith talents and invcM..e of One of our most eloquent senators onco said, that an Englishman's cottage was his castle. The winds ,nay whistle through every crevice, and the rams pene- n-ate through every cranny, but into that cottage the nionarch of England daro not enter against the cotters will That is just the state of the case between Chrisl and tho human soul. lie has such a respect for tlio will of that immortal tenant that he has placed within U9, that ho TviU never force an enU-ance. He will do everything else ; he will knock at the door- "lle now Htiind.s luiorUing at Uic door Of pvcry sinnci'^ lieuit; The wonit need keep liim out no more, Nor force him to depart." But he will not force an entrance. Often, disappoint-.-d 78 TllK lUXir.Vi;i:'ri SLtHClKNCY. u„.l grieved J>o tun., uwuy tVoMvtln... vvhu,n he Nvoul 1,,, ,,,,. .nriehod una .uvcd, .uyin^;, "^ ^; ^v. I no. ,,„„e unto mo, that yo may huvc life." Bn m.tw..h- Btuu.linj; all thU fo.nvidal.U, ..ppusilion, the (.ospol, a. ,1,, ,anuni.tmti.m of (-,..!•. tn.th, hacked by the cm.rjrv .,,■ ll.c lluly Hi.irit, shall Ihmlly trinmi.h. ^\ o can c-un- e.ivo of no .nen.ics nu.n- Huhtk-, nunv rnalii^nunt, n.mv powerful than those which it has already encountena and vanquished. Men.ury cheer, u. onward ant in hcrcxquisiteadaptationton.au. every necessity and peril ; she does not tri.st in the u. dcfatii^ahle and self-denying lahors of her uun.sten.; God is wilh the (lospel, an.l under his K""Umcc sh. ehall nuvreh triumphantly forward, snhjugaln.g even en.Mm-, acquiring a h.dgMuent in every heart, reelann- i„. the world unto lu.velf, until she has consunmuitca l,cn- victory in the ecstasies of a renovafe.l universe, ami in that deep and B..lenni mo.nent ^vhen the Son, wl.. gave his life a ransom for all, shall see of the travail ot ins s,>ul and ho abundantly Batislled. O brethren! what a condbrtable doctrine is this I If this Gospel is to be conducted from step to step in its progressive march t(| conquest, do you not see how it guarantees mdivulual salvation and individual defence by the way ? Where art thou in the chapel to-night -(would that 1 could discover thee!) timid a.id discouraged believer who art afraid of the fatigues of climbing tho Il.H DitlicuK nt sight I.ii't \\\> U of Cit tliy helj ity^ (i lasting Life bIi thee in in tho liivc of or nah (lurk ci "Nay, ors."^ ;n;Ncv. loso whom lie would vinj;, "Yo will ii'it )itu." But notwitli- tioll, tllO CSoSpol, ll^ KickiHl liy the ciHTfry iiini>li. W^' '■»" '■""■ miu iiiiiligiuuit, lllnlV iih-eady oncouutonMl \is ouwivnl and bid- Gospel; that is tlu' . her inherent energy ; ;c adaptation to nniuV cs not triibt in the iu- i,is of her uiinisterii; iW'V hiB ^iiidanoc blu' ■d, Bid>jng!aing even fvery heart, reeluini- she has consuumiatcHl Miovated universe, and it when the Sun, who 11 see of the travail of icd. hrethrcn ! what If this Gospel is to bo s progressive niareh to truarantees individual hy the way 'i d to-night '(woidd that id discouraged helievir , of cliinbiDg tho Hill THIC IlKI.IKVKu'rt KT I- KUIKNCY. to DitUeulty, and crouchest back abashed and cowonnK ,t M.d,t of tho UonB in front of the I'alace UeantduW Urt'^p thy head, be not disn.uraged ; thy sntUeK.ney i, of God. AVbatfri-htenstheeJ AtUietb.n < God ifl tbvhelp. l>er>eeution? (iod is thy erown. IVrph'-v lU-i (Jodisthyeounseh Deaths (i.d is tby ever- i;,i„^,lite. ()nlytrn.t in (Iod, and all shall-, welh ,.Ue shall glide thee into death, and death shall ghdo ,h,e into heaven. "Who (ashs the exulting A post e, in tho 8th of Romans), who shall separate ns fron, the Uvc of Christ ? Shall tribulath.n, or distress, or faunne, .„. nakedness, or peril, or swor.ir That is rather u dnrk catalogue; hut nnvrk how tho Apostle answers ,t: ''\av,ln all these things we are more than conquer. 0,''' It is not a drawn hatUe; night does not come on to separate the co.nbatants; we have not to send u herald, as they used to do in ancient warlare, to ask ponnissiun to hury our dead ; we do not come Ironi the Hold with the dishonored banner trailing .n the dust, and the annor hacked, scarred with the wounds wo have gotten in tho light. "Wo arc nu.re than eon- ,„oro;." Oh, the royalty of that language -" more than conquerors, through hin. that hath loved us lor I am persuaded that neither death"-he puts that hrst, because it generally threatens believers most-" neitha.- life," which is really a more solemn and a more penl- onJ thing than death, rightly considered-" neither death, nor life, nor angels"-if any of them should for- get themselves bo far as to come and preach another 8(1 THE BEUEVKb'8 BUJFIOIBNUV. r„«ccl Md try to deceive tl,e very eleet-" neilte Gospel MQ iiy ..\,\,owh tlie captain principalities nor powers -loi alt .oi „ l of ,l>e 1.0S.8 of darkness may plant all 1. s .nos' " niaaWe battery against ns, he cannot ^•-''^ "- ,,„ta oi- strong salvation, nor snacl, a. y » '., sheen from the fold of the great fchcphe.d. i.o, •> i,: s presenf-thongh those things P--/^ ehule famine, nakedness, pcnl, and -•» j" "°' things to eonrC'-thongl,, ^^y^^^Jl^Z !;-:i^rnoif::;;-?-^^^^^^ fraereatnre.thatisaf..,e.— e,;;;;;;^; tion upon the universe of God— Keep !;,„ c'reatnre shall he ahle to separate 3™^ ,"■ , ,r r,„l ivhhh is in Clnist Jcsns our Uri. "I>. r^e::::::: the meirahie ..--;-f -^- ; the love of Godl H.e hlessedness of an approvn,g cons ienee, the hleBsed,.ess of increasing knowledge r hre e ness of con.plcte victory, the bicssednes" o Gospel peace, the hlessedness of perfect love 1 1 d Tuol wh t that sea of glass tneans ahottt whrch « course with joy. It is a bta b lows; not a breath ever, by any P««f ^^^^^'/^^^J' ,^ lid on thi« sea of glass, as ou a wide and wavel » tean^tbe believer stands forever, chanting eternally BUFFICIKNUY. the very elect— " neither -for although the captain ay plant all his most for- he cannot shake the pall- or snatch away a solitary great Shepherd. "No,nov 060 things present may iii- ,eril, and sword-" "o, nor in those things to conic, of diabolism never dreamed —nothing but sin, and that onl excrescence, a vile abor- od— keep clear of that— and c to separate you from the Jhrist Jesus our Lord." Oh, ble blessedness of being in .Icsseduess of an approving 58 of increasing knowledge, te victory, the blessedness of Iness of perfect love I 1 do glass nreans about which we do not pretend to an intimate yptic disclosures; but I know mage the deep, serene, repos- ic spirit that has finished n3 Bca of glass; it hath no bil- , by any possibility, ruffles it. s, as on a wide and waveless ds forever, chanting eternally THK BELIICVKli 8 SUKFICIKNCY. 81 the Bong of Moses and the Lamb, Oh, lift up your heads and come buck to Zion with singing, and let this be the burden of yuur song : ■' Let doubt, then, and danger my progress oppose. They only niiike heaven more sweet at the clo.50 ; Afflictions may damp me, they cannot destroy, For one glimpse of His love turns them all into joy. And come joy, or come sorrow, whate'cr may befall. One hour with my God will make up tor it all." It were very little use our talking in this strain to you, if you were to find out, after all, that it was some aristocratical blessing, some privilege reserved only for tlie peerage of the faithful, for the favored ones in the family of the King of kings. II. I come, secondly, to notice tuk AUTiioErrv avuicu liKLIKVKKS HAVE TO EXPECT TUI8 SUFFICIENCY FOK THEM- SELVES. And, very briefly, we have a right to expect It, because it is found and promised in the Bible. Every believer, the moment he becomes a believer, becomes an inheritor of the promises. The Bible is not my Bible, nor your Bible— it is our Bible. It is common property ; it belongs to the universal Church. Wo have no sympathy, of course, with those who would monopolize this sacred treasure, and keep this light of the Gospel burning, and that, Avith a precious dimness, only in the study of the priest, or fettered, as it used to be, like a curiosity, to the altars of the Church. Thank God, these days of darkness are for- 82 TUK bvxievkr's sufficikxcv, ever gone by. And yet there is a Cluircli, somewhere, pvufotsedly Christian, which denies to its members tlie light and comfort of the Clhle, in direct opposition t. the command of Ilim who has said to every oiu'. "Search the Scriptures," thus most absohitely exalting itself against all that is called God. Oli, most funl corruption ! Deprive us of the Bible ! As well forhiJ us to gaze on the jewelled sky, or to be fanned by tlio winged and searching air. Deprive us of the Eihlc I Call it sin for us to look at the sun, and to bask in the blaze of his enlivening beams. The very same hand which lannched yon orb upon his ocean of light, and bade him shine upon the evil and upon the good, lias sent this orb into the world, and has sent it on purpose that it may be a lamp to all our feet and a lantern to all our paths. We devoutly thank the good Spirit of the Lord, that he put into the minds of our forefathers to protest against so flugrant and monstrous an im- piety ; and, thank God, we are Protest-ants still. We cannot afford to be thus robbed of our birthright, to be thus cheated out of our inheritance, to be this basely swindled out of the possession of the Book of God. It is the legacy of the Apostles' labor ; the bul- wark of the confessors' faith ; the purchase of the mar- tyrs' blood. Thank God for the Bible. Let us prove that we love it, by drawing from it all the comfort and blessing, and guidance, and warning, which its heaven- inspired pages are calculated to afford. Well, we liavo a right, each of us— if we are in Christ— we have a FFICIK.NCV. 9 a Cluircli, somewhere, nies to its inembors tlio , in direct opposition to las s:\id to every om\ nost absolutely exulting l1 God, Oh, most fonl I Bible ! As well forLiil , or to be fanned by tlio eprivo ua of the Eihkl ! snn, and to bask in the I 5. The very same hand ] L his ocean of light, and and upon the good, has k1 has sent it on purpose our feet and a lantern to thank the good Spirit of minds of our forefathers ; and monstrous an im- e Protest-ants still. "\\'e bed of our birthright, to inheritance, to be thus ossession of the Book of Apostles' labor ; the hul- the purchase of the mar- the Bible, Let ns prove om it all the comfort and 'arning, which its heaven- to afford. "Well, we lm\e ire in Christ — -we have :a THE BKLIEVKKS SLKFICIKNCY. 83 right to expect this sufficiency, because it is promised in the Bible. "We gather it from the declarations of Scripture, Listen to them, they are yours : " Thus saith the Lord who created thee, O Jacob, who formed thee, Israel, Fear not, I have redeemed thee, I have called thee by thy name" What a beautiful thought that is ! Just get the meaning and beauty out of it. Ilow many thousands of believers, thousands upon tliousands of believers, have tlicre been in the Avurld from the beginning of its history until now — thousands in the patriarchal pgcs Avho looked through the glass, and who saw, dimly, the streak of the morning in the distance, and, even with that streak of light, were glad —thousands, in the prophetical times, wlio disccrnes chased away by a smile. \Vhat has wrought the change ? What ? Why, a ministering angel whispered to him: "Leave thy fatherless children; 1 will preserve them alive." He hails the promisor. Faith cries out : "It is he, it is he; my God is present here." He enjoys rapt and high communion with celestial visit- ants, and thus that chamber of death becomes the gate of heaven. You pass by that house next morning : the half-closed shutter and the drawn l»lind tell you that ho was and is not. You enter— the widow is sitting in sor- row ; the first deep pang is scarcely over. The tones of her husband's voice, with which she has so long been familiar, rush, in all the freshness of yesterday, upon her soul, and she is worn with weeping. But she, too, is a Christian, and she flies to the Christian's refuge, and her eye traces those comfortable words : " Thy Maker is thine husband — the Lord of Hosts is his name." It is a dark hour ; it has been a dai-k day ; and the darkness has gathered, and settled, and deepened as the day wore on, and now at eventide there is soft and brilliant light, because her sufficiency is of God. You pass by the house again when abort a week has elapsed. Tlie last THE BKLIKVKU'B flUFKIClKNCY. 88 — ,,„y„f ..or l...V,a,.l >;"• '^ ,^:;' ,.„„„.l„„cos-, l,o lie has diod in somcwl.at •"':; , ,,it,, „eMug ,vaH U,o sole dependence o^^^^,^ ealcnU.e Lead and tlnobbing "■»■■'•";",,„„, ^„gi™ ,„ fall „,„,.t her fnluro Buta.slenco « 1 ea g ^^^^^^^^ ^ „„, ,„,, U.r..e she g.- ;j^"^ U the Influenee. friend ; he i» a «.Be man, one upon _ ^^^ of the Holy spirit have ^ ^^^^^^ .-Ihave ,„ the testimony of a long hte « ex ^^^_^ ,„^ teen yonng, and now ""»"'>', ,,,„,,.. Dash- righteons forsaUen - ■ J^,, ^ ,», „„ .trnggle. tag away the tears that l.ao ^^^ ^^^,,^^, a'd labors on, and .eels fta « ongh ^^ __^ ^_^^^____ l,„ur, her suffieleney .s b dl of God. ^^^^.^^.^. „on ease ; I have .rot drawn l^B^'J J j „„„,a ,.„ee of an >-^;,f- ^Se^and hid you lUten to gotatornatryof o« «u^ _^ ^.^^ ^,^ one, as with a glad nea j,_^^ . .erted sinner's an^^^^^^^^lU angl Is turned thou wast angry ^-th "«'' ° ,, ti,o„ I could Wd "™^;.trtre::"or:;other,hutfa^... rdir^rhrts^i.— ^^^^^^^ „1 ,vas hrought low, f ^l™;^,, „e eould even from the gate, of death. _^^^ _^^,^^,_ point you to a thrrd, and say . V gon hc:b iCY. ,eral bell, ^v-tli its ,uuding like tl.c ,9 tolled ; tlievery Voin her embrace, circinnstaiiccs •, be J', and, with acbiug down to calculate icart begins to fail :pair, Bbe consults a vboni the influences long; and be gives experience: "Ibave I bave not seen tbe rging bread." Dasb- U ber, sbe struggles igli it is ber darkest Tbat is no uncom- ely upon tbe extrava- briugitout. I could ind bid you listen to ree, be sings tbe con- fd, I will praise tbee ; tbine anger is turned ne." Then I could bid •anotber, but faltering ng from recent illness: ,lped me ; be saved mo ' And tbeu we could "Tbis poor man cried, THE iniLIKVKK 8 BLFl'ICIKNCY. 89 and the Lord heard him, and wivcd him out of all his troubles." And whore are the duinnatorj' (clauses that forbid you to jtartuke of thcsi; hlesriings ? What statute of limitations is there that bars you from tlic enjoyment of this great and gracious heritage ? Brethren, are you in Christ? Tlicn all that belongs to the covenant is yours. Yours is the i)resent heritage, yours is the future recompense of reward. " Our sufficiency is of God." Is it so ? Then you will be sustained in trial ; you won't succumb to its power ; it won't over-master you ; you will regard it as sent of God, intended to work lessons and changes of some providential discipline within you. You will bo grateful for it ; you will know that when it conies, although it looks harsh and repulsive outside, you have entertained angels unawares, you will find after it has gone away. Oh! we learn many lessons when the bead is low, that we do not learn in the heyday of pros- perity and blessing. Just as it is in the natural world: you know when the sun is set, the stars como out in their placid beauty, and .III ' -.1 : ' " Darkness shows US worlds of light , , . ' \Vc uovcr saw by day ;" and we should never have known they were there if the darkness had not come. So in the night of God's pro- vidential dispensations, the stars of the great promises come shining out, broad and bright upon the soul ; and we rejoice in their light and go on our way rejoicing. ,„, TIIK nKUKVKIt'« ttDKl'IClKNUy. Or clrin.'i..-' tl.c li^'uro, in the glml Hunu.u-r-timc, wlu., u.et into the c-ountry-we j,'o cut .nt<. the t.nck ^^..ods t a : k una.- the'treo. in .luulow, and their Ipn. a. "cM-h.c.o above ub, and the leave, .re green am gk..,, J> thiek above that we ean.n.t .-o the sky tl>rongh ; d^ velbrget that there is another woria, and onr ^art are revelUng in all pleasure and all blessedness of this But vhcn the blasts of Nvinter come and scatter the leaves down, then the light of heaven comes m between, and we remen.ber that hero wo have no continuing city, and arc urged to seek one that is to ome. Oh! L hold of God's sufficiency then and go bravely to the n.eeting of trial, and you wdl find that trial, " God's alclicmistoUl, Purges off tlio (Iroaa and mold And leaves us rich with gems and gold." Is your sufficiency of Godi Then it will animate you to duty Listen to this confession of weakness : Uuto xne, who am less than the least of all saints, is this grace given" Less than the least! What a pressure of weak- ness there must have been upon that soul I Listen to this exulting consciousness of power: "I can do all things through Christ that .trengthcneth me Ihey are the antipodes of sentiment-are they not? Weak- ness the most helpless and feeble-power the most exultant and proud; and yet that confession of weak- ness, and that exulting consciousness oi power, were the ing SCY. iiniiuT-timc, wliim , Budi of U8 as call II tlio t'.iiok woods uid their ItnuK-lart I green and gloesy, ) tho sky through ; lier world, iind our md all blosscdncss iv come and scatter ' heaven comes in here wo have no 5cek on© that is to ifficicncy tlien, and , and you will find ind gold." it will animate you )f weakness: "Unto 11 saints, is this grace t a pressure of weak- liat soul I Listen to A-er: "I can do all thcnctli me." They •e they not? Weak- le — power the most ■u confession of weak- )6B 01 power, were the TIIK IIKI.IKVKU'S KL'KHCIKNCV, 9J utterance of the same lips, and the cxprosblon of the o>ii)erienco of tliu Kuine individual. Wliut made the litlorcnce? Jn the one ease he reliiMl iip.m liis own ro- sonrces; in tlie other, lie took hold of the sunioiency of (Jod. Take hold of the sufHciem-y of (iod, and notiiin:,^ will he aide to resist you; you will p. forward strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might, overcoming mn and overcoming evil in its every form, and planting for yourself and for your Master an heritage of blessing in this world and in that wliich is to come. " Our sufficiency is of God." Is there a poor strag- gling sinner that is rejoicing to think that the minister has forgotten him, and that while lie has been endeavor- ing to bring out all the heart of the text— privilege and promise exceeding great and precious, for the benefit of believers— no word of warning can bo extracted out of it for those that are yet ungodl-y? Wait a little. What is the lesson you are to learn from the sub- ject? Just this: that there is a sufliciency in God to punish. All his attributes must be equally perfect. He must bo just, as well as the free and generous justifier of him that believeth in Jesus. Oh, I beseech you, tempt not against yourselves that wrath which needs only to be kindled in order to burn unto the lowest hell. "Kiss the Son, lest he bo angry, and yo perish from the way." Perish out of the way- just as men fling away any obstacle or hindrance that interrupts their progress, so shall God fling the wicked out of his way. "Kiss the Son, lest he be angry, and 09 TIIK liKIll VK.k'ri St'KHt'lKNOY. yo peribli from the wny, wluii li'm wrath !.■* kindled h\it ft little. l>iit II little -oil, it, will need hut. ii little kin- dling tn doom yim to the )ierdition of iieli. I'ri'thren, you iiei'il not iierish : there is a hutlicieney, thaidv < od ! there is a suHieii'uey in Christ lo save. Our hulliciiiii y ifi o!' . IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) z 1.0 I.I 11.25 Hi 128 12.5 2.2 1.1: li£ 2.0 6" lU IIIIII.6 V <^ % > Photograpnic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. MS80 (7]6) 872-4503 "-4 'vn'rt:5i>~^*'-^»i-'^*"^^s5rai<»jaEBS!a'«^ ^ p IL ^ CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHM/ICMH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques "-4 vm9^'-' ■1< » I'M. "Tl we fail walkin inaDifc science ongn fore I have VI •f'li j; ,(!''; !;!!!'-. •; III. [mm,-* THE MISSION OF TUE PULPIT. " Therefore seeing we have this ministry, as we have received mercy, we faint not ; but have renounced the hidden tilings of dishonesty, not walliiog in craftiness, nor handling tiio word of God deceitfully ; but by manifestation of the truth commending ourselves to every man's con- science in the sight of God."— 2 Cor. iv. 1,2. This is the Apostle's recorded judgment as to the mission of the ministry which he had received of the Lord Jesus, and the duties of which he discharged with such singular fidelity and zeal. In the preceding chap- ter, he magnifies its superiority alike of glory and of suhstantial usefulness over the dispensation of the law, and then in a few weighty words separates himself en- tirely from all false teachers, and establishes himself, upon the ground of holy character and exalted oflace, as Heaven's high remembrancer among the nations — a true witness for God amidst a dark and alien world. He takes care, at the very outset, to assure those to whom he speaks, that he is of the same nature, and originally of the same sinfulness, as themselves : " There- fore seeing that we have received this ministry, as wo have received mercy, we faint not." We are not — as if 94 THE MISSION OF THE PULPIT. he had eaid-a distinct order of beings: there is no natural superiority of character >vhich might make the minister proud, or ^vhich might make the hearer distant, and callous, and nnsympathizing. ^Vo once were sui- ners; ve have yet the memory of bondage; we have received mercy, and are anxious to tell to others the tidings that have led to our redemption. As we have received mercy wc faint not, but have renounced the hidden things of dishonesty, the secret immorahties oi pagan priests; not walking in craftiness, not retammg our hold upon the consciences of men by deceivableness of unrighteousness, and by juggling, lying wonders ; not handlin- the Word of God deceitfully, not preachmg an adulterated truth or a flexible Gospel ; not pliant to the prejiulices, or silent to the vices of those who hear us; "but, by manifestation of the truth, commending our- selves to every man's conscience in the sight of God." All this, affirmed by the Apostle of the mmistry of olden time, may be aflirmed of the ministry of recon- ciliation now. That ministry, wickedly maligned on the one hand, imperfectly fulfilled on the other hand, has yet its mission to the world. The unrepealed com- mand still stands upon the statute-book: «Go ye mto all the world, and preach the Gospel unto every crea- ture." And it is a prayer often earnestly and passion- ately uttered by those on whom its obligations have fallen, that, repudiating artifice and idleness, they may, by manifestation of tlie truth, commend themselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God. I purpose, Go( the the tho I NKS age As beg reli acti ascf recf 8om and wor Chr this orig min who time origi the< I nei bytl the ( far s trav< ; PULPIT. f beings: there is no rhich niiglit make the lake the hearer distant, ^ AVo once were sin- of bondage ; we have 8 to tell to others the emption. As Ave have lit have renounced the I secret immoralities of iraftinesB, not retaining ' men by deceivableness iug, lying wonders ; not itfuUy, not preaching an ospcl ; not pliant to the 3 of those who hear us ; truth, commending our- } in the sight of God." ostle of the ministry of f the ministry of recon- wickedly maligned on lied on the other hand, [. The unrepealed com- itute-book : " Go ye into Gospel unto every crea- n earnestly and passion- om its obligations have 3 and idleness, they may, commend themselves to sight of God. I purpose, THK MISSION OF TIIK PULPIT. 95 God helping me, briefly to notice from those words— in the lirst place, the business of the ministry ; secondly, the instrumentality which it employs; and thirdly, tlio thought that hallows it. I. The ministry — this is my first position— has a busi- NK88 wmi THK WORLD. It is tho Divinely-ai>pointcd agency for the communication of God's will to man. As a Divine institution it advanced its claims in the beginning, and in no solitary instance have they been relinquished since. Tliis Divine authorization and en- actment are still in force. The Bible says, when Clirist ascended up on high, «he led captivity captive, and received gifts for men ; and lie gave some apostles, and some prophets, and some evangelists, and some pastors and teachers, for the perfecting of the saints, for tho work of the ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ." There might be something special, perhaps, in this original commission, but the principle of its Divine origin is evidently presented as the principle of the ministry itself; for St. Paul, who was not then called, who speaks of himself afterward as one born out of due time, earnestly and anxiously vindicates the Heavenly origin of his apostleship : « I certify you, brethren, that the Gospel which was preached of me is not of men ; for I neither received it of men, neither was I taught it but by the revelation of Jesus Christ." This it is which is the elevation of the Christian ministry, which exalts it far above human resources and human authority. It travels on in its own majestic strength — Heaven-inspired 90 THK MISSION OF THE PtlLPIT. and heaven-sustained. Moreover, the same passage which tells us of the institution of the ministry an- nounces its duration, and tells of the period when it Bhall be no longer needed-till we all eome m the umty of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man-unto the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ. This period, thus divinely appointed for the cessation of the ministry, has obviously not yet arrived. The world sees but little yet of millennial glory ; there is yet an alienated heart in its debased and rebel tnbes; there is nothing in the pursuits which it follows, nor in the natural impulses which move it, to incite to holy aim or to induce spiritual living. It has no self-sugges- tive memory of God. It has passions as blind and powerful, and a will as perverse as ev(^r. Death is in the midst of it, and, though the corpse may be some- times embalmed with spices, or tricked out with flowers, or carried 'neath obsequious plumes to burial, the chill ie at its heart, the breath of the plague is in the tainted air, and there is need, strong and solemn need, for the anointed witness who may stand between the living and the dead, that the plague may be stayed. There are some, I know, who tell us that the mission of the pulpit is fulfilled. They acknowledge that, in the eariier ages, in the times of comparative darkness, when men spelt out the truth in syllables, it did a noble work ; but the world has outgrown it, they tell us; men need neither its light nor its warning ; the all-powerful Press sh th> an Ai isn yic mi ng( die son ha\ Bil dut the gOS] filw hid( afFei min witl mou man natu imd( uttei grav with othe: ptTLPir. •, tho Barao passage of the ministry an- ■ the period when it all come, in the unity 5 of the Son of God, sure of tho stature of nted for the cessation lot yet arrived. The snnial glory ; there is sed and rebel tribes; hich it follows, nor in 3 it, to incite to holy It has no self-sugges- passions as blind and as evm-. Death is in corpse may be some- picked out with flowers, mes to burial, the chill plague is in the tainted d solemn need, for the between the living and be stayed. There are tie mission of the pulpit ;e that, in the earlier ve darkness, when men 3, it did a noble work ; they tell us ; men need ; the all-powerful Press THE MISSION OF THE PULPIT. 07 shall direct them, the educational instituto shall assist them in tl.cir upward progress, tlicy sl.all move onward a.id upward under the guidance of tho common mind And, while this is tlie cry of infidelity and indifferent- ism, there are some among ourselves wlio have partially yielded to tho clamor. They liavc deplored (as who must not?) tho apparent ineflectivcness of existing- agencies, the feebleness of the efforts for evangelical aggression, and, in tlieir eagerness to conciliate preju- dice and disarm opposition, they have compromised somewhat tlie high tone of Christian teaching, and have studiously avoided tlie very terminology of the Bible, so that the great truths of God's will and man's duty, of Christ's atonement and the sinner's pardon, of the Spirit's work and the believer's growtli-tlioso old gospels whose sound is always music and whose sight is always joy, arc hardly to be recognized, as they are hidden beneath profound thought, or veiled within affected phrase. But the Divine institution of the ministry is not to bo thus superseded. It has to do witli eternity, and the matters of eternity are para- mount. It deals and would grapple with the inner man ; it has to do with the deepest emotions of the nature, with those instincts of internal truths which underiie all systems, from which a man can never utterly divorce himself, and which God himself has graven on the soul. So far as they work in harmony with its high purpose, it will hail the helpings of all other teaching; but God hatli given it the monaichv. 5 98 THE MISSION OF TlIK rULVIT. and it daro not abdicate its throne. Tlio opposition that you sometimes meet vrith of worldliness and mii- delit y to the pulpit, if you analyze it, you tind that though it may have derived from the oppressions ol priestcraft in bygone ages somewhat of plausibility and force, it is but one phase of the method in %vhich the human heart discovers its rooted and apparently uncon- querable enmity to God. Hence it is one of the worst symptoms of the disease which the ministry has been calculated and instituted to remove. The teaching of the political agitator, of the philanthropic idealist of the benevolent instructor-why are they so popular? Tlie teaching of the religious minister-why is it so repulsive to the world? Mainly from this one fact, that the one reproves, and the other exalts human nature-the one ignores, the other insists upon the doc- trine of the Fall. You will find, in all the schemes for the uplifting of man not grounded on the Bible, the exaltation of his nature as it is, lofty ideas of perfect- ibility, assertions that it needs neither revelation nor heavenly influence to guide it in the way of truth. Tims the Gospel is presented only as one among many svstems which all men may accept or reject at pleasure. Its restraints are deemed impertinence, its reproofs unnatural bondage. The talk of such teaching is fre- quently of rights, seldom of .duties. They are compli- mented on their manliness who ought to be humbled for their sin, and, by insidious panderings to their pride, they are exhorted to atheism, Felf-reliance, or habitual dii an na pa mc wil an( hui tol oth^ and Gil( dee) nor its I sees arch exce heav lioly It activ this I God'j again ought tlie id institi Bcatte i-rir. e. Tlio opposition orklliness and infi- I it, you find that the oppressions ol" of plausibility and Bthod in which tho I apparently uncon- is one of tho worst I ministry has been e. The teaching of nthropic idealist, of they so popular? lister — why is it so from this one fact, other exalts human Insists upon the doc- 1 all tho schemes for d on the Bible, the :,fty ideas of perfect- either revelation nor I the way of truth, as one among many or reject at pleasure, •tinence, its reproofs such teaching is fre- '8. They are comi^li- •ught to be humbled derings to their pride, f-reliance, or habitual TUK MISSION OF TUK I'L-LPIT. 09 disregard of God. Both kinds of teaching, the worldly and tl,e rel.g.ous alike, aim at tho uphTting of tho nah.re. Eut then they look at it from difrere^t stand- points, and, of course, they apply to it different treat- ment. Tho one is an endeavor to exalt the nature without God; tlie other would take liold of his stren^tl. and work to the praise of his glory. The one regards humanity as it once was before sin had warped it, ablo to tower and triumph in its own unaided strength-tho other sees it decrepit or ailing, tho whole head sick and tho whole heart faint; and yet, by the balm of Gilead, to bo restored to pristine vigor. Tlie one, deemmg that no confusion has come upon its language nor shame upon its many builders, would have it pile up' Its Babel towers until they smite the skies-the other sees the towers in ruins, splintered shaft and crumbling arch bearing witness that they were oneo beautiful exceedingly, and that by the grace and skill of the heavenly Architect, they may grow up again into a holy temple in tho Lord. It is absolutely necessary, in this age of manifold achvities and of spiritual pride, that there should be this ever-speaking witness of man's feebleness and of Gods strength. And, however much the opposition against tho ministry may tell, and it does tell, and it ought to tell, against the vapid and frivolous, against tho Idle and msmcere, it is a powerful motive for the mstitution of tho ministry itself; just as the blast that scatters the acoms, roots the oak the more firmly iu 1(^0 TUK MISSION UK -niK I'tu'ir. .rcoorJing angel r..«i«..« '^ "' f '' X^J .".H-. - long a, there ,. one .my ^^^^^ ^ j^^_^.. Uaek a,lvomry, » l""!-' ^ '' "" "^ „,,,;„,t ..raver of ■-^■'rr^™:ii:ln; tr-n^Mn.o- IramWo measure, m »» naoi j „fle„tlon, l.o .nIneBse, for ^°' • ''^" 7„,,^ ,„„ l,i« wing., Laving -f;:tr:eona,y,.u.a..»o.^ ■-"»- ^!":„";aTrrjr:e:;o on.e\v,.re. „„, . -nse,e„eo tot B, a ^^^^ ^^^ ^^^ .^^^ _j_^^^ "-Frf: tt::.- ;--«'■ condnct. Oallitunai, ;,!« rtio most important _a facnlty, an emotmn, a law-.t »'«>»'' »■ ,,, principle in oar -'-•''-"^XXeeognitfon into «=nsible eom,eet,on w- M^d - * =^j„^ „f, .„e moral »-— . . .^fm^ for bis own daily »T""°\°!uir"ndrts various aspeets it answers :^:r.:r.;:artsofaiudieialtr— ^^ tlfe bar at wl,iel> the sinner pleads; it prefers the accn. 8! 01 it nr re br til lis th: id( en( to to mil agi nn'^ tur moi and or 1 stifl bra^ in b man crim crira It hi ;o die, so long as tlio ilt, so long I'- hninm uiilicca< d truths, so ncr tcinptcd by tlio ninistry have ft busi- eariiust prayer of at they may in some and with dauntlce.* ith l>uro affection, bo ions angel whom tho >on his wings, having unto every nation and 8INES8 OF TUK MINISTRY OF mi:n. Every man iral sense of the diflc- a princii.le which docs 1 the true and false in nful and damaging in It and wrong in Iniman , analyze it as you may -it is the most important io by it we are brought md sensible recognitiou oA. It has been defined a man for his own daily rarious aspects it answers judicial tribunal. It is jads; it prefers the accu. THK MISSMN OK TIIK 1 ILni'. 101 sation of transgression ; it records the orlmc ; it hoars witness to gnilt oi- innocence; and as a in.I^.,. it nerinits or condemns. Tl.n.s tukinir r„<:;u\y,uu-o ul'uun-nl action. It 18 the faculty which r..Iat..s us 1., tlu- oIIk-p world • and by it God, retribution, eternity, :uv uuuh al.i.lin.r realities to tho soul. As by the ,.hysieal sense, wu u.e brought into connection with tl>c ,,hysical world, and tlio blue heavens over it, and the -reen earth aro.nul us, are recognized in their relation to ourselves; so l)y this moral sense of conscience we sec ourselves, in the light of immortality, responsible creatures, and gain ideas of duty and of God. How mighty is the influ- ence which this power lias wielded, and yet continues to wield in tlio worM f There are many that have trie.! to be rid of it, but tlicre is a manhood at its heart whicli murder cannot kill. There arc many that have rebelled against its authority, l)ut they have acknowledged its might notwithstanding, and it has rendered them dis- turbed and uneasy in their sin. There are multitudes more thafhave fretted against its wholesome warnings; and often when— because it has warned them of danger or threatened them with penalty— they have tried^to stifle and entomb it, it has risen up suddenly into a braver resurrection, and pealed forth its remonstrances in bolder port and louder tone. But for its restraint, many of tho world's reputable ones would have become criminal. But for its restraint, many of the world's criminals would have become more audaciously bad. It has spoken, and the felon, fleeing when no man pnr- 109 'ilii; MlaaMN oK I Hi: I'l II'H'. Bucd iilm, bus lieen cliasi'd by u falling leaf. It luw HiM)k(>ii, and the lmrj,'lar lias I'iiU'il bfliiiul his niUHk, Htarlk'tl at his own footfall. It liaH KiMikiii, and the Coward assasHin luus hct-n uitchIimI in his jtnrposc, nnd liart imnsc'd irresuluto cro ho has ntnick thu blow. Its vimlictivu and sevoro uiibruiding after the win has been Committed has often lashed tho sinner into agony, and secured an interval of comparative morality by pre- ventinsr sin for a season. It has been the one witness for CJod an\id tho traitor facidlies — single but undis- mayed, solitary but true. "When tho understanding and the memory, and tho will and the niloctions, had all consented to the enticements of evil, conseienco has stood llrm, and tlie man eoidd never sin with eoiufort imtil ho hud druggrd it into dospenito repose. It has been the one di.s;H;iiticiit power among the faculties, like a moody gui'st among a company of iVantit; revel- lers, whom they cotdd neither conciliate nor expel. When God's judgments have been abroad in tho world, and men would fain have resolved thoni into ordinary occurrences or natural phenomena, conscience has refused to bo satisfied with such delusive interpreta- tions, and, without a prophet's inspiration, has itself deciphered the handwriting as it blazed upon tho wall. It has forced the criminal oftentimes to deliver himself up to justice, preferring tho public shame of the trial and tho gallows-trco to the deeper hell of a conscience aroused and angry. Yes, and it has constrained from the dying sinner n. testimony to the God he has insulted, I 1.1'ir. tiling leaf. It luis hehiml liiti inuHk, iH f])(>kei), and the II Ills |)urp(mc, niid ruck tliu blow. It8 cr the hill has l)i;c'ti c r into agony, and ! inomlity l)y pre- en the one witness -fliiiglc l»ut undis- tlic understanding the ailections, Lad !vil, conscience has r sin with comfort ito ropoBc. It has long the faculties, \\y of frantl(! revcl- iiciliatu nor expel, broad in the world, honi into ordinary a, conscience has lelusivo interprcta- piration, has itself zed npon the wall, i to deliver himself shame of the trial ell of a conscience ,3 constrained from rod he has insulted, 'iMi. MlsmoN OK nil; ri i.Pir. 103 given M-lieii the phadows of perdition were already darkening upon the branded brow. Oh, brethren, that nmst bo a mighty jioM'cr which has wrought and which is M'orkiiig thus I And it has wrought and is working in you ; anu, as kucIi, mo acknowledge it. We can dc8i>iso no man who has a conscience. Although with meanness and with sin lie may largely overlay it, wo recognize tho m.ijcstic and insulted guest, and are silent and respectful as in the presence of a fallen king. "Wo seo the family-likeness, although intemperance has bloated tho features and has dulled the sparkle of the eye. Tliero is a spirit in man, and the iiispinifion of the Almighty giveth him under- standing. Xow it is with this faculty in man that tho minister has mainly to do. His work, his business, is to bring out the world's conscience in its answer to tho truths of Divine revelation. Eeeogiiizing in it some- thing which can respond to its own duty, tho minister- ing witness without will constantly ajjpcal to tho answering witness within. Ilegarding all other facul- ties, however separately noticeable, as ^venues oidy to the conscience, he will aim constantly at the ears of tho inner man. To come short of this is to come short of duty. To fail in this is to fail in a work which our Master has given us to do. We should form but a very unworthy estimate of our own high calling if we were to aim at the subjugation of any eubordiuate faculty, and, that accomplished, sit down as if our work wero done. The minister may appeal to tho intellect — of 104 TllK MISSION OF THK PULPIT. course he moy. AH thanks to him if he clear away dif- ficulties from the path of the bewildered. All thanks to him if he present trnth in its symmetry of system, and in all the grand and rounded harmony of its beau- tiful design. But ho must press through the outworks to the cittdel, through the intellect to the conscience, that the understanding, no longer darkened, may appre- hend the truth, and that the apprehended truth may make the conscience free. The imagination may be charmed by the truth, which is itself beauty; but only that it may hold the mirror up to conscience, to see its own portrait there photographed directly from on high, and which, with such marvellous fidelity, gives all the scars upon the countenance, and every spot and wrinkle upon the brow. The passi uis maybe roused by the truth, which is the highest power— not that people may Bwoon away under terrific apprehensions of wrath, or only or mainly that people may escape hell and enter heaven, but that the conscience may resolve on a holy life, that there may result the comely outgrowth of a transfonned and spiritual character, and that through the impending fear of perdition and the promised water of life, a man may issue into the wealthy place of con- fidence in God, assimilation to his image, that attach- ment to right which would cleave fast to it, even were its cause hopeless and its friends dead, and that perfect love which casteth out all possible fear. It is not the intellect, then, but the conscience— not the imagination, but the conscience— not the passions, OF THK rULl'IT. IS to him if lie clear away dif- tlic bewildered. All tlianlvs I ill its symmetry of system, •oundcd harmony of its bcaii- ;t press through the outworl^s B intellect to the conscience, ) longer darkened, may appre- the apprehended truth may e. The imagination may he lich is itself beauty ; but only ■or up to conscience, to see its rraphed directly from on high, irvellons fidelity, gives all the cc, and every spot and wrinkle \ssi)ns maybe roused by the 5t power— not that people may fie apprehensions of wrath, or )lo may escape hell and enter jscience may resolve on a holy dt the comely outgrowth of a al character, and that through irdition and the promised water into the wealthy place of con- tion to his image, that attach- luld cleave fast to it, even were 3 friends dead, and that perfect II possible fear. t, then, but the conscience— not 3 conscience — not the passions, Tllli MISSION OK Tllli PL'LPir. 105 but the conscience— to which the minister is to com- meud himself in the sight of God. If lie speaks to the intellect, the philosopher c-au i-ivul ]r 'u. If he speaks to the imagination, his brightest ellbrts pale before the dazzling images of the poet's brain. If he speaks to the passions, the political demagogue can do it better. But, iu his power over the conscience, ho has a power that no man shares. An autocrat undisputed, a czar of many lands, ho can wield the sceptre over the master-faculty of man. Oh 1 very solcinu is the responsibility whicli tlius rests upon the religious teacher. To have the master-faculty of man Avithin his grasp; to witness of truths that arc unpopular and repulsive ; to reprove of sin, and of righteousness, and of judgment ; to do this with his own heart frail and erring, with the moral con- flict battling in liis own spirit the while. "Who is snflicient for these things V breaks often from the man- liest heart in its seasons of depression and unrest. But there is a comfort broad and strong, and I feel that com- fort now supporting me. While pained by my own imworthiness, and by the trifling of multitudes over whom ministers weep and yearn— pained by the short- sighted and self-complacent indifference of the church and the world— pained by the thousand difficulties which Satan always puts iu the way of the reception of the truth as it is in Jesus ; I say there is a comfort of which I cannot be deprived : that all the while there is a mysterious something moving in you — in you all barbing the faithful appeal, pointing the solemn warn- 106 THE MISSION OF THK PULPIT. ing, Btriking the alarnra in the sinner's soul. There ! listen to that ! That belongs to thee. That heart so callous and ungrateful-it is thine. Tliat sin that the minister reproves— thou hast committed it. Tliat doom 80 full of agony and horror— thou art speeding to it. How wilt thou edcape the damnation of hell ? Many a time and oft, when the minister without has gone eheafless to his home, and in tears has oflfered his complaint, "Who hath believed our report?" the min- ister within, by God's good grace, has been a successful harvest-man, and gathered sheaves into the gamer; and often when, to the eye of the human minister, there has been no ripple on the waves, deep in the depths of the soul have swelled the billows of the troubled sea ; and in the keenest acknowledgment of the truth he was endeavoring to impress, men's consciences have borne him witness, their thoughts meanwhile accusing, or else excusing one another. Again, the great instrumentality which God has empowered us to use is the truth. You will have no difHculty in understanding what the Apostle means by the truth, because he calls it "the word of grace," and « our Gospel." The revelation of God in Christ, the life and teaching and wondrous death of Jesus, was the truth, alone adapted to the supply of every need, and the rescue from every peril. The Apostle was no ordi- nary man. "Well-read in the literature of the times, observant of the tendencies and the inclinations of man, he would be ready to acknowledge truth everywhere. Uel He tlirov fuller treas clrcu conc( truth ward God, Divin entire Consc overd Theh ter. ' fertile air, n( darkn( until broug] the u] came ^ truth t richer and wi and in Gospel lished •ULPIT. mer's soul. There! hce. That heart bo . Tliat sin that the itted it. Tliat doom I art speeding to it. )n of hell ? Many a f without has gone lars has oflEered his ar report?" the min- has heen a successful into the gamer ; and m minister, there has ) in the depths of the 10 troubled sea; and of the truth he was nsciences have borne vhile accusing, or else lity which God has 1. You will have no the Apostle means by e word of grace," and )f God in Christ, the eath of Jesus, was the »ly of every need, and Apostle was no ordi- orature of the times, le inclinations of man, Ige truth everywhere. THE MISSION OF TUE PDLPIT. 107 He knew that there had been truth in the world before. He would see it in Pagan systems, gleaming faintly tlirough encumbered darkness. Fragments of it had fallen from philosophers in former times, and liad been treasured up as wisdom. It had a somewhat healthy circulation through the household impulses and ordinary concerns of men. But it was all truth for the intellect, truth for social life, truth for the manward, not the God- ward relations of the soul. Tlio truth which told of God, which haUowed all morality by the sanctions of Divine law, which provided for the necessities of the entire man, was seen but dimly in uncertain traditions. Conscience was a slave. If it essayed to speak, it was overdone by clamor, or hushed by interest into silence. The higher rose the culture, the deeper sank the charac- ter. The whole world seemed like one vast valley, fertile and gay with flowers, but no motion in the dumb air, not any song of bird or sound of rill ; the gross darkness of the inner sepulchre was not so deadly still, until there came down a breath from lieaven that brought life upon its wings, and breathed that life into the unconscious heaps of slain. Tlius, when Christ came with his Gospel of purity and freedom, all other truth seemed to borrow from it a clearer light and a richer adaptation. Tlie ordinary instincts of right and wrong were sharpened into a keener discernmert, and invested with a more spiritual sensibility. Ti e Gospel founded a grander morality ; the Gospel esta >- lished a more chivalrous honor ; the Gospel shed oul i 108 TIIK MISSION OK T.IK rCLPlT. ,norc genial benevolence. AH the old ^y^t "is I looked at man as a half-man ; only on one si o of ^ nature; that part of him that lay down to the cart . The Gosrc'l took the .hole ronnd of his faeu ties, both as lying toward earth and as rising toward heave.. Love to man-the ordinary, commonpkee plulantlu-opy of everv day, the philanthropy that wings the teet ot the good Samaritan, and that sends all the almsgivcrs upon errands of mercy-love to man was not known m its fullness, until the Gospel came. "Thou shalt love thy neighbor" was a command of old, but then the Jews first contracted the neighborhood, and then they contracted the affection. The Jew's neighbor was not the Samaritan, but one within his own exclusive pa c and sphere. But when love to God came, like a queenly mother leading out her daughter by the hand, then men wondered at the rare and radiant beauty that had escaped their notice bo long ; and when they loved God first, then it was that from that master-love the streams of love to man flowed forth in ceaseless and in generous profusion. And the Gospel is just the same now. It is the great inspiration of ordinary kindnesses, and of the every-day and rippling happiness of life. It is the truth for man; the tmth for man's every exigency, and tor his very peril-blessing the body and saving the soul. By the truth, then, which wo are to commend to every man's conscience, we understand the truth as it is in Jesu8-the truth which convinces of sin and humbles under a sense of it ; the tmth which reveals atonement a\ pi w nc w] be otl va ms J the cor sci( whi and fori 1 hem ver] be, Thir ofQ idolf ever histo thof of ira in br of int .i-i^- ■ --j^WV ci-riT. e oUl systems bad ^on one side of liis down to the eartli. of his faculties, both ing toward heaven. )nplace philanthropy it wings the feet of Is all the almsgivers an was not known in "Thou sbalt love of old, but then the i-hood, and then they v's neighbor was not 8 own exclusive pale d came, like a queenly by the hand, then men ant beauty that had when they loved God naster-love the streams iseless and in gencous it the same now. It is kindnesses, and of the of life. It is the truth very exigency, and for y and saving the soul. B to commend to every 1 the truth as it is in es of sin and humbles hich reveals atonement THE MISSION OF THE P0LPIT. IQf) and flashes pardon from it ; the truth which leads the pardoned spirit upward to holiness and heaven" 2-e to bring that conscience and that truth into cI' nect,o„ with each other; that is the great business Z tt T "^^^^'^'^^ ^'^^«- ^" -^- that ti re :l; b the bringing of the one into connection with the other, there must be variety in all truth, suited to he mw, for the sake of argument, we may take it that there are three stages in which nearly the whole of «1 consciences of humanity are ranged : those whose en .fences are slumbering, torpid, inert, lifeless; tZe and diose whose consciences have passed through those former stages, and are now peaceful, happy, and'at rel 1. J^irst ^^.r. are emte ccmscienc.es that havenoapprc hcnnonof God~no spiritnal eensibaHy at all ifTl very sad thought that this has been, and continu to Think of r':v' ^'^ ''''' "''j'^"^^ ^' --^-d- o^God f Vr ,^7^- «f Paganism, where the truth Idols, fertile of cruelty, and its characters exemplifying hist7 ' ^"' '^"^ "^^ '^^"^ ^^-"g'^ "'ive'rsa? history; you ca„ see the track of passion in the light of the flames winch it has kindled ; you can see the;ork3 ^n rr T^ " '^'""^ *'^"S^'*' or.3oulptured in bre thing marble; you can see the many inventions of mtellect on every hand, but for conscience placed on 110 TUE MISSION OF TUE rULl'IT. its rightful seat, and exerting its legitimate authority, you look almost in vain. Even in Christian Ei^gland there are multitudes of whom it may be said that God is not in all their thoughts, to whom conscience is a dull and drowsy monitor, who live on from day to day m the disregard of plainest duties, and in habitual, harden- ing sin. Are there not some here ? It may be yon go to your place of worship, but to little purpose; you are rarely missed from your accustomed scat, but you have trifled with conscience until it rarely troubles you, and when it docs, you pooh-pooh it as the incoherences of a drunkard, or the ravings of some frantic madman. Brethren, I do feel it a solemn duty to manifest God s arousing truth to you. I appeal to the moral sense within you. You are attentive to the truth ; the Word is suffered to play around your understanding ; I want it to go deeper. I accuse you fearlessly of heinous and flagrant transgression, because you have not humbled yourselves before Heaven; and God, in whose hands your breath is, and whose are all your ways, you have not glorified. I charge you with living to yourselves, or that, going about to establish your own righteousness, you have not submitted yourself to the righteousness of God. I arraign yon as being guilty of base ingratitude, inasmuch as when Christ was offered, the just for the unjust, that he might bring you to God, you refused to hearken. And you have trodden under foot the blood of the covenant, and counted it an unholy thing. I accuse some of you, moreover, of trying to secure im- P' Y tr cr or th in< mi sle tht thi tru bea ter woi brij disi so f by 1 oft 2. and soul, trab your Oh! have trutL agair ;itimato authority, Christian Eiigland J be said that God sonscience is a dull ■om day to day in n habitual, harden- It may be you go c purpose ; you are scat, but you have y troubles you, and incoherences of a B frantic madman. y to manifest God's to the moral sense lie truth ; the Word Icrstanding ; I want essly of heinous and have not humbled od, in -whose hands rour ways, you have ing to yourselves, or • own righteousness, the righteousness of J of base ingratitude, red, the just for the ) God, you refused to under foot the blood an unholy thing. I trying to secure im- THK MISSION OF TIIK rULI'JT. \\\ lou iavo ,o^„.,ed co„»cio„ce from i„ ll„,„,e; v„„ |,„vo tncdto bnboit.o bo a ,„„.,ioij,a,or will, j., i„ ,, '•''"""' "■• l''™^'"'' ; :■»>■ l»vo li„,i,co coiirttunt as woll ns bravo and ti'iidci-, if wt! ri-alizt! cniitimiaily tliat wo arc in the hi'dit (»f (lordered world back again lo its allegiance to God. lliis is our life-work, and wo arc doinglt day by day— unfaithfully, imperfectly, but we arc doing it. Moral truth upon tho mind of man is something like a flat stone in a churchyard, through which there is a thoroughfare, and hundreds of patter- ing feet go oyer it day after day. Familiarity with it has weakened tho impression, and time has effaced tho lettering. Ihit God has sent us with a friendly chisel to bring it out again into sharpest, clearest, crispcst, distinctest outline before the spirits of men. Tliis is our life-work ; and wo are laboring on amid tho driving Blc(^t and pelting rain ; jostled now and then by tho rude and heedless passenger; fitfully looked at by the re^i the cut on, of reu uui an< oui Wl of an( Till yoi car ha^ the I 1 me am wh syl ne\ son cliii nur I si Bpii ■DI.PIT. vill lu'lp ufl to por- woll as bravo ivnd tlmt wo arc in tho multiply, tliis will »• niul i'aiiit in our lio endured tho con- isolf; and, thro\ij,'li r men will boar or ill labor on for tho of Bouls. Wo shall with extensive popu- 9, with attention set- r countenance. Wo \ rij^ht away through u supremaey of con- i-ed world back again our lifo-work, and wo 'ully, imperfectly, but )on tho mind of man , churchyard, throngh i hundreds of patter- . Familiarity with it I tiino has effaced tho with a friendly chisel jest, clearest, crispest, irits of men. Tliis is g on amid the driving now and then by tho fitfully looked at by illK MISSION OF IIIK I'LLI'lr. 117 thoHo who lilt away to tho farm and tho mcrchandin( ; regarded with n BO»t of contoiiiptuoiis admiration by tIioH(! who adiiiiro our industry, wliiiu tliey pity our cuthuHiasm. Patient, eurnerit workers, wo must labor on, and wo intend to do it. God helping, tho miniblry of reconciliation will contimio to bo proclaimed, within reach of every man in this land, Sabbath after Sabbath, universally, unto those who will come, without money and without price. And everywhere wo shall luivo our reward. I, for my part, cannot labor in vain. What think you would sustain me under the pressure of tho multiplied excitement aiul multi])lied sorrow and labor, but the thought thut 1 cannot labor in vain i Tho words I have just sj.okea have been lauiiclied into your ears, and have lodged in your conscience, and I cannot recall them. Siuiplc, well-known Bible truths have gone into your conscience, anraycr. I lile that wraps up all heaven in les of kindness which flood the ;ic— " Well done, thou good and • thou into the joy of thy Lord." the Spirit— I dare not trust you lis grace, praying that lie who y give it life and power. ■- ,;■ xn). IV. SOLICITUDE FOR TUE ARK OF GOD. " And when he came, lo, Eli sat upon a seat by the wayside watching ; for his heart trembled for the ark of God."— 1 Sam. iv. 13. What news from the battle-field ?— for the Philistines are out against Israel, and the Israelitish armies are marshalled, and have gone forth unto the fight. A few days ago a reverse befell them, but they have sent for a fancied talisman, and they are marching now with the ark of God in their midst, deeming that its presence in their camp will assure victory to their side. There is expectation in the streets of Shiloh, doubt and hope alternating in the spirits of its townsmen ; for though the ark is a tower of strength, yet their defeat has dis- heartened them, and dark rumors, moreover, of the Lord's kindled anger, and of sad prophecies alleged to have been spoken, are rife among the people ; so that many a glance is strained wistfully toward the plains of Aphek, whence the couriers may bring tidings of the war. There are quivering lips in the city, and cheeks blanched with sudden fear ; for the tidings have come, and they are tidings of disaster and of shame : the glory 119 120 BOLICITUDE FOR THE ABK OF UOD. of Israel hath fallen upon its high places ; the shield of the mv'hty hath been vilely cast away; thirty thousand of the°pcople have fallen with a great slaughter; and the sacred symbol of their faith itself has been carried off in triumph by the worshippers of Ashtaroth and Dagon. Loud is the wail of the widows, and terrible the anguish of the remnant that are left, oppressed by the national dishonor. But yonder, near the gate, there iB one feeble old man, with silvered hair and sightless eyes, before whom, as each mourner passes, he subdues his sorrow into silence, as in the presence of grief that is mightier than his own. It is Eli, the high priest of God ; he hears the tumult, but is yet unconscious of its cause. But now the messenger comes in hastily to unfold his burden of lamentation and of weeping. « And the man said unto Eli, I am he that cam© out of the array, and I fled to-day out of the army. And he said. What is there done, my son?" Oh, terrible are the tidings that are now to come upon the heart of that old man, like successive claps of thunder. "And the messenger answered and said, Israel is fled before the Philistines "—here the patriot mourns—" and there hath been also a great slaughter among the people"— here the spirit of the judge is stricken— " and thy two sons also, Hophni and Phineas, are dead"— here the father's heart bleeds. Strong must have been the struggle of the spirit under the pressure of this cumu- lative agony, but it bears nobly up. Ah, but there is a heavier woe behind: "And the ark of God is taker. A ol fr lii m in 6C til 1j( CO til m re de ha th; fe] an rai br By] ph th< im € far wi. to I OF UOD. places ; the sliield of way ; thirty thousand ^reat slaughter; and iclf has been carried TS of Ashtaroth and widows, and terrible ire left, oppressed by r, near the gate, there ed hair and sightless ler passes, he subdues presence of grief that Hi, the high priest of yet unconscious of its ■ comes in hastily to ion and of weeping, n he that came out of f the army. And he m ?" Oh, terrible are upon the heart of that r thunder. " And the Israel is fled before t mourns — " and there among the people " — ;ricken — " and thy two , are dead" — ^liere the must have been the pressure of this cumu- np. Ah, but there is a ! ark of God is taker. 60LICITUDK FOK TUK AKK OF GOD. 121 And it came to jiass when he made mention of the ark of God "—not till then, never till then—" that he fell from off the seat backward by the side of the gate, and liis nock brake, and he died." The graiul ok', uiau : lie may liave been feeble in restraint and criminal in indulgence, but there is niiijesty about this his closing scene wLich redeems his errors and shrines him with the good and true. The patriot could survive the dis- lionor of his country ; the judge, though weei)ing sore, could bo submissive under the slaughter of the people ; the father, liia heart rent the while with remorseful memories, could have upborne under the double be- reavement: but the saint swooned away his life when deeper affliction was narrated of the disaster that had happened to the ark of God. " And it came to pass that when he made mention of the ark of God tliat he fell from off the seat backward by the side of the gate, and liis neck brake, and he died." Brethren, this is just the character, the tj'pe of cha- racter, that we covet for the churches of to-day— men of broad souls, large-hearted and kindly in their human sympathy, bating not a jot in all earthly activities and ])hilanthropy, but reserving their highest solicitudes for the cause and service of the Lord Jesus Christ. " An impobsible combination," scoffers are ready to observe " and unlovely even if it were possible. The narrow fanaticism will contract the human affection ; the man will be so absorbed in the possibilities of the shall-be as to forget the interests of the now; he will live in a 6 122 SOLICITUDE FOR TIIK AUK OF GOD. world of the ideal, and the life that now is, and that preescs upon us bo incessantly on every side, will dege- nerate into a brief history of dwarfed charities and aimless being." Nay, surely not so, niy brother. That love must ever be the kindliest, even on its human side, which has tlie furthest and the most open vision. That cannot be cither a small or a scanty affection which takes eternity within its scope and range. The Christ- ian, the more he realizes his Christianity, and embodies it, becouK's of necessity pervaded by an affection, bounded only by the limits of humanity. •^vf "Pure love to God its members find- Pure love to every son of man." And this love, which the thought of eternity thus makes indestructible, is raised by the same thought above the imperfections Avhich attach themselves to individual character, so that it sees the broad stamp of humanity everywhere, and discovers, even in the outcast and trembling sinner, an heir of the Everlasting, an offspring of the Divine. And this, the perfection of character, is the character which we covet for you. You will find very many instances in Scripture in which, in words full, full to overflowing, of the warmest human affection, regard for the spiritual is discovered, not in ostentatious obtru- sion, but in developments of incidental beauty, to be the reigning passion of the soul. "Who can for a moment doubt the strong human affection of the be- lt Ic w tl h< to al dc pr Tl: an fle lik est in sol wa pui Hif «E My the Go( Kec fror his chic crisi bad OF GOD. lat now is, and tlmt svcry side, Avill dcge- varled charities and », niy brother. That m on its human side, t open vision. That anty afi'cction which range. The Christ- ianity, and embodies jd by an affection, lanity. ... ... bers find — , , ; r of man." f eternity thus makes le thought above the iselves to individual I stamp of humanity in the outcast and erlasting, an offspring acter, is the character will find very many in words full, full to nan affection, regard in ostentatious obtru- idental beauty, to be ul. Who can for a n affection of the be- eoUCITCDE FOR TIIK AKK OF OOD. 123 loved disciple, who, loving at first, drank in a deeper lov.ngness as lie lay upon the Master's bosom, and to whom, as the fittest for such a mission, was comunttcd the cliargo of that meek sufferer witli a sword in her heart— the sad and saintly mother of our Lord ? Listen to his salutation to Gaius tlie well-beloved • " I wish above all things "-this is my chiefest and most fervent desire-"! wish above all things that thou mayest prosper and be in healtii, even as thy soul prospcreth » This is the principal thing after all. Remember David and all his afflictions. See the persecuted monarch fleeing from his infuriated and bitter enemies, hunted hke a hart upon the mountains, lodged, with small estate and diminished train, in some fortress of En-edi or m some cave of Adullam I Of wliat dreams he'in his solitude? Wliat are the memories that charge his waking hours ? Does ho sigh for the palace and the purple, for the sceptre and the crown? N"o— Hark! His royal harp, long silent, trembles again into melody! "How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of Hosts ' My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth, for the courts of the Lord : my heart and my flesh crieth out for the living God." See him again when he is crossing the brook Ivedron, when the hearts of his people have been stolen from h.m by his vile and flattering son ; when he has lost his crown and is in danger of losing his life ; what is his chiefest anxiety in that time of adversity, and in that crisis of peril ? « And tlie king said unto Zadok, carry back the ark of God into the city. If I shall find favor 124 60LICITUDK FOK TUK AKK OF GOD. in tlio eyes of the Lord he will bring me again, and show xno both it and his habitation." As if he had said, " The ark of God— all that is tender and all that is sacred are in my history associated with the ark of God —carry back the ark of God into the city. I am hunted like a hurt upon my own moimtains ; I have no longer a sceptre of authority ; I am going npon a precarious expedition ; I know not what may become of me. Carry back the ark. Don't let it share our fortune ; don't let it bo exposed to insult and pillage, and the chances of war. Carry back the ark carefnlly. Whatever becomes of mc, carry back the ark of God into the city ; though I wander in exile, lie down in sorrow, and am at last buried in the stranger's grave." Eut what need of multiplying examples ? It was his religious home, the metropolis of faith, the place which God's presence had hallowed, which was referred to when the happy Israelite, rejoicing in recovered free- dom, and remembering long years of bondage, struck his harp and sang, " By the rivers of Babylon there we sat down ; yea, we wept when we remembered Zion," And this, I repeat it, brethren, the perfection of charac- ter, is the character we covet for you. As Christians you are bound to cultivate it. It is the highest affec- tion in heaven : " Tlie Lord loveth the gates of Zion more than all the dwellings of Jacob." It is the high- est affection of the incarnate Son : " Tlie zeal of thine house hath eaten me up." It is the highest affection of the Apostle, the highest style of man : " Neither count I C( C( & til G w P< A re fa te P< fr^ G ri'i th or Tl lie of mi UD sp K OF GOD. bring me again, and tion." As ii he had tender and all that is 1 with the ark of God nto the city. I am 1 moimtains; I have ; I am going npon a ot what may become )on't let it Bhare our to InBwlt and pillage, >ack the ark carefnlly. back the ark of God in exile, lie down in the Btranger's grave." xiunples? It was his faith, the place which rhich was referred to ing in recovered free- irs of bondage, struck s of Babylon there we re remembered Zion," le perfection of charac- )r yon. As Christians t is the highest affec- eth the gates of Zion acob." It is the high- i : " Tlie zeal of thine he highest affection of man : " Neither count SOLICITDDE F(1H TIIK AKK OF GOD. 125 X my life dear unto myself, so that I might linish my course with joy, and the ministry which I have re- ceived of the Lord Jesus, to testily the Gospel of the grace of God," Oh, that God would raise uj) amongst us Elis in our spiritual Israel, who, with reverent and earnest solici- tude, would have their hearts tremble for the ark of God. His heart trembled for the ark of God, and wherefore ? Because the ark of God was in peril. In peril from its enemies— in greater peril from its friends. And, brethren, the cause and kingdom of Christ, pure religion and nndefiled before God and tlic Father, the faith for which we are valiantly and constantly to con- tend, is in this hazard to-day. It also is in peril : in peril from its enemies; in greater, deeper, deadlier peril from its friends. These are the points which I will endeavor, briefly, God helping me, to illustrate on the present occasion. I. In the first place, tub akk of God is in peril from n's FjpEMiEs. Tliere never was a period, perhaps, when the ark of God was carried out into a hotter battle, or was surrounded by fiercer elements of antagonism. There is, for instance, idolati'y, holding six hundred mil- lions of our race in thrall. Idolatry, which has suc- ceeded in banishing from their perceptions all thought of the true God— which holds all that vast world of mind under the tyranny of the vilest passions, and under the dark and sad eclipse both of intellectual and spiritual knowledge. 120 Bnl.KlTUDK Knit 'UW. AUK OK OOD. There is, again, l>nj>odun', reigning in Mohanmiedau realms over one hnndred and forty niiUionB of Boula ; imposture, uceonunodated with tlic most cx(inisite inge- nuity to the prejudices of the population among which it was to spread, complimenting Hoses to cajole the Jew, speaking respoctfully of Jesus to seduce the nomi- nal Christian, ottering a voluptuous heaven to tho licentious Pagan, and gathering iu the indifierent by the wholesale conversion of the sword-imposture thus founded and perpetuated over some of the fairest pro- vinces of the globe in foul and ferocious despotism until There is, again, sujxrstinon, the corruption of Christi- anity by Greek and papal admixtures, blinding the world with the utter falsehood of half truths, dazzling the senses and emasculating the understanding, traffick- iug in sin as i i merchandise, and selling escape from its'' penalties cheap. Imposture, under whose strange system atheist and libertine, infidel and Jew, may join hands together and with equal rights wear the Bacred garments, and, in robes upon wliicli the cross is broidered, may gather together to make war against the Lamb. ' < iMim There is, again, skcptichm, that cold and soulless tbing, that mystery of iniquity, whicb doth already work, chilling the ardor of the churcb and hardening the unbelief of the world— skepticism, bribing intellect to sustain it with sophistry, and genius to foster its errore, and poetry to embalm them in song— skepticism, til nil in. 1 »r an Pli as a r nui rioi eer tlie mu eve tliic for stro shoi tren enla spec ters- Chri the 1 our E n. THE 1 PROM OK OOP. Ill' iu Moliumiuodau y millions of soula ; most cx(iuisito inge- ilutiou among wliich Hoses to cajole the to soduco tho nomi- .0U8 licavcu to the a the indifferent by ord— imposture thns le of the fairest pro- cious despotism until corruption of Christi- ixturcs, blinding the half truths*, dazzling idcrstanding, traffick- 1 selling escape from under -whose strange ifidel and Jew, may |ual rights wear the pon which the cross is make war against the liat cold and soulless , which doth already churcli and hardening icism, bribing intellect d genius to foster its tn in song — skepticism, BOUcnxnic lou tiii: auk ok (jon. 127 that travels through the universe in search of IniUi and beauty, that it may enfeeble tho one by its mi...iv- ".g^, and blight the comeliness of the other by its wimry breath. ■^ All these, enemies of Christianity from tlie beginning, and retaining tl,cir ancient hate against it, now are tl" Ph.l.stmos of its spiritual field. They are not content, as m former times, with holding their own ; they have a resolute purpose of aggression. Tliey have habit, and numbers, and prejudice on their side; they have war- riors and a priesthood, zealous and valiant in their Berv.ce. Tluy have no chivalry about them to restrain them from any style of warfare. They smart under nmltiplied defeats, and they know that in the heart of every man in the world there are interests and sympa- thies in their favor. There is reason, then, is thei-e not, for that cry, "Men of Israel, help!" there is reason strong and solemn reason, why the Elis of our Israel should sit by the wayside, watching, for tlieir hearts tremble for the ark of God. It is not necessary to enlarge upon this point. I do not want to preach specially to-night in reference to these extraneous mat- ters—matters, 1 mean, extraneous to the Church of Christ, which liinder tho progress of the work of God in tho world. I want to come nearer home in discussing our second point ; n. Just as it was in the days of Israel, so it is now- Tin: AEK OF God is IX stronger, deeper, DE.VDLIER PERIL FROM ITS FRIENDS. Vainly might the Philistines have 128 gOLIOITUDK KOE TIIK AKK OK OOD. fought, vainly might the foe have etrivcn, if there had not been in the licart of the camp the springs of deep and dcBtructivo evils, if the clioscn children of Israel had not hecn traitors and unworthy of themsclvcB. And there are, if you will only examine into the Bubject, strange analogies subsisting between the causes which prevented the victory of Israel of old, and the causes which operate with such fearful disaster against the pro- gress of the truth of God to-day. 1. In the first place, there was in the camp of Israel of old the presence of superstition, a blind reliance upon external forms. Tlio Israelites, though their lives were loose and thoir devotions therefore iniquity, felt safe in the prospect of the battle, because they had the presence of the ark. At other times they cared nothing about it, were indifferent altogether as to its welfare ; but in the hour of danger, they rallied round it as an amulet of strength, and in place of contrition before God, and in placo°of humblings on account of sin, they vaunted that the Lord was in the midst of them, and conveyed wha. they deemed to be the symbol of his presence witJi arrogant and obtrusive gladness to the camp. And it is to be feared, brethren, that there is much of this vain and formal confidence clogging our piety now. Are there not hanging upon our skirts, ostensibly one with us in fellowship and spirit, many of whom we stand in doubt before God, and over whose defective consistency we mourn? Nay, are we not all conscious, each for himself— let the spirit of searching come in— are we not all Uu ot'( mil tuu stu] the ypi lor f(»iv whi froi of a old upo Goc diss perl to t hou Ban( lenc the thes lif*- sick fron the] wo OF OOD. jtrivcn, if tliero had tho springB of deep n children of Israel irthy of themsclvcB. nine into tho Bubject, en the cniiscs which old, and the canses aster against tho pro- in the camp of Israel a blind reliance upon ough their lives were iniquity, felt safe in they had the presence ared nothing abont it, ts welfare ; but in the [1 it as an amulet of >n before God, and in sin, they vaunted that n, and conveyed wha; of his presence witli to the camp. And it re is much of this vain our piety now. Are ts, ostensibly one with of whom we stand in 3 defective consistency ill conscious, each for g come in — are we not SOMCIiXUK KOK TUK AKK OF 0(»U. V20 all conscious of compronuac, if not, indeed, of botruyal 1 Our church, our organization, our intluuncc, llio decorum of our services, the activity of uur af,'i'iu;ics, an attractive ministry, a respectable gutiu'ring, a wcU-furnishcd Kanc- tuary, a wcll-roplcnibhed treasury — have not tlieso Btulen our hearts away from tho Divine, the 8])iritual, the heavenly ■< Our spirit— bounds it after the Divine Spirit as it once did 'i Uur ear— listens it as intently lor his whispers i Our eye—has it as keen an insight for his coming ? Or is tho very symbol of his dwelling, which, in the olden time, transformed the wilderness from the sepulchre into the home, become an occasion of sin, if not an object of idolatry i Oh, for some bravo old He;2ekiali to come amongst us and write Nehushtan upon the Jnutilated brass, and break it into pieces before God I Do not mistake us; wo are no iconoclasts, to dissolve all organizations, and mutilate the whole and perfect symmetry of trutli, and with distempered zeal to tear away the inscriptions on her holy and beautiful house. We rejoice in precious ordinances, and crowded sanctuaries, and in those grand institutions of benevo- lence which redeem our age from lethargy. But when tho trust of the individual or of tho church is placed iu these things, God'a Holy Spirit is dishonored, and the life of our religion becomes of dwarfed growth and sickly habit, from the very care with which we screen it from the breath of heaven. Brethren, are there not in the Divine "Word many intimations of the tendency which wo now deplore, to let the very highest and holiest 6* lao aoucrruDK foh tiik auk oi' ood. cuBtoms dogoncrato into tho iiulillercnco of tbrrnalibm ? Tliiit thu bra/Oil Borpont liftoil up in tho wiUiorucgs recL'ivcd in after agei* idolatrous hoiiuige, I liave already reminded you. And Buch waa the danger of idolatry to tho children of Israel, that God would not trust any one of them to bo preHont at the funeral of their great law- giver. No human cyo must witncB8 his obBcqnicB, but, in solitary poHsession of his God-prcparcd sepulchro, the lordly lion stalked, and tho bald old caglo flew. The combined power of healing and of speech constrained tho worship of tho men of Lystra for tho Apostles Bar- nabas and Paul. Malteso superstition, which had branded him as a murderer whom tho viper stimg, in Budden reaction deified him when he declined to die. And in tho time of the Saviour, the temple had become a house of merchandise ; aniso and cmnmin were of more account than righteousness and truth, and enlarged phylacteries and public prayers, and a countenance i)re- ternaturally sad, were the low and degenerate substi- tutes for a renewed heart and a holy life. And, bre- thren, it becomes us solemnly to bo on our guard in this matter, for the same tendency exists still. The formal and tho careless will creep into our worship, and, if we are not watchful, will eat out tho heart of our religion. If, as individuals, our trust is in our attendance on religious orduiances, or our participation of sacramental emblems and our fellowship in church communion, or the comeliness of our external moralities, pnd if, in the strength of these, unfurnished with tho higher gifts of itK or OOD. I'ercnco of forinalibm ? up ill the •wiUlorucsH oimigo, 1 liavo iilreiidy I! danger of Idolatry to ould not trust any one ml of their great law- less liis obscquieB, but, •rcparcd sepulchro, the old caglo flew. The of speech constrained , for the Apostles Bar- lerstition, which had >ni the viper stung, in !ji he declined to die. ;hc temple had become und cummin were of vnd truth, and enlarged ind a countenance pre- md degenerate substi- i holy life. And, bre- bo on our guard in this xlsts still. The formal )nr worship, and, if we 3 heart of our religion. in our attendance on eipation of sacramental church communion, or loralities, ^nd if, 4ii the rith the higher gifts of BOUCrrDDK FOR TIIK AUK OF OOD. 181 ho Dmno Sp.nt, wo go out to dare the dane^-rs and light the battles of our daily llfo; „,»! if, us a r ,.nvh as a confederacy of Christian people, wo talk auont our "limbers, and our agency, and our influence, what aro wo doing but perpotrating-peri,etrating, too, with still greater oggravation and enormity-tho error and tho nm of tho people of Israel of old ? We carry the ark into tho battle, but wo leave the God of tho ark behind us; and there is strong and solemn need that tho Klis of our Israel should sit by tho wayside, watching, for their hearts tremble for the ark of God. 2. I observe, secondly, that there was inr^onsiiitennj in the camp of Israel. The times wore times of apostasy and of idolatry; tho priests, who should have been the leaders of the people, committed abominable iniquity ; there were sensuality and oppression in the service of' the holy shrine, so that men abhorred the oflering of the Lord, and, by consequence, the whole land beciime infected with the contagion of this evil example. There was still an aflTectation of reverence for the sanctuary, and of attachment to the ark; but tho Lord of tho sanctuary and the God of the ark were not the true objects of worship and of love. And is it not so largely now? Are there not amongst those who habitually gather themselves for worship, numbers, not, perhaps, consciously insincere, but strangely defective J and numbers more— spots in our feasts of charity— who como among us like so many whited sepulchres, all symmetry without, but all rottenness within: Achans, Avhoso 132 80LICITDDE FOR THE ARK OF GOD. rapacious covetousuess can hardly hold itself from the prey : Reubens, whose unstable bouIs are luring them- selves to their own destruction : Judascs, with fawning lip, and grasping hand, but hiding in the coward heart the guilty purpose of betrayal? Arc there not, such araonirst us ? Yes, there are those who intrude them- selves into our assemblies, eluding all human scrutiny, wearing the garb of sanctity, and remaining in their imposture, perhaps, until some overwhelming pressure crushes them, and brings scandal upon the cause that they have dishonored. And in public life are we not accustomed to hear a noisy zeal for the holy name of God on the part of men who rarely use it except in imprecation and in blasphemy — ostentatious helpings- on of the ark by those in whose esteem it lignrcs only as an imposing thing for public procession, or as a relic of sanctity to be unveiled to the curious in some hour of rejoicing and of display ? Brethren, this inconsistency imperils alike our own salvation and the progress of the cause of God. The Church must be consistent, every individual in the Church nmst be sincere and thorough in his piety, before the Avork is done. It may be, or it may not be, that there is the hypocrite here to-night — the systematic and habitual impostor — who has assumed the garb of godliness that ho may the better sin ; if there be, in God's name let him forsake his hope, for it will perish, and let him at once, before the hail sweeps his refuges of lies away, seek mercy of that Saviour whom he has insulted }.nd betrayed. And what is our )B THE ABK OF GOD. can hardly hold itself from the instable Bouls are Inring thera- ructiou : Judases, with fawning but hilling in the coward heart betrayal? Arc there not such e are those who intrude them- es, eluding all human scrutiny, mctity, and remaining in their il some overwhelming pressure gs scandal ujion the cause that And in public life are we not loisy zeal for the holy name of en who rarely use it except in isphemy — ostentatious helpings- in whose esteem it lignrcs only r public procession, or as a relic led to the curious in some hour ay ? Brethren, this inconsistency salvation and the progress of the lurch must be consistent, every h nmst be sincere and thorough work is done. It may be, or it is the hypocrite liere to-night — tual impostor — who has assumed that ho may the better sin ; if e let him forsake his hope, for it I at once, before the hail sweeps ly, seek mercy of that Saviour ,nd betrayed. And what is our soLicrruDic fob tiik akk of god. 133 condition? Grey hah-s have come upon us, signs of eebleness, tokens of lassitude and age, and we have not known it. Oh I a more sincere and decisive godliness IS wanted from us all, if we would either pass untar- nished through the terrible temptations of the world or be found worthy to bear the vessels of the Lord Brethren, we must resolve that whatever of insincerity may liave attached to our profession shall at once be forsaken, and that we will from this time forward God belpmg us, renew our baptismal vows, and be valiant for the truth upon the earth. If in our pursuit of plca- Bure there has been the indulgence of frivolity, and per- haps of licentiousncss-if in our high-reaching ambition tor renown there have been oppression and time-serv- mg, and the concealment of principle, and practices that are corrupt and unworthy-if in our labor for compe- tence there has been compliance with unhallowed ens- tom, or complicity with wrong-if we have followed the maxims of trade, rather than the maxims of truth- if there has been over-reaching and cupidity in our commercial life, we have sinned, and our profession of religion only makes our sin more truly scandalous, and more completely sin. And it behooves us all now, from this very hour, to put away the sin from us with loath- mg, and fall humbled and penitent before God. Wo must have holiness— inner and vital heart-holiness— if we would cleave unto the Lord with full purpose of heart. Brethren, when I see out in the broad world the 134 SOLIcrniDE FOR THE ARK OF GOD. palpable inconsistencies of professors of religion — a man devout in the sanctuary and detestable at home, saintly on the Sabbath and sordid all the week, ostentatious in the enterprises of benevolence, but grinding his own workmen and tyrannical to the poor — when I see u man, whoso citizenship is ostensibly in heaven, distance the keenest worldling around him in the race of fashion, or in the strife for gold — when I see a man, whose reli- gion teaches the divinest charity, censorious in his spirit, and narrow in his soul — when I see a man, to whom God has given a fortune in stewardship, grudging to dispense to him that is in want ; when I see a man, whose Divine Saviour rebuked his own disciples for in- tolerance, professing to follow his footsteps, and yet harshly excluding thousands from his fold ; or when in the world of opinion I see religion represented as vindi- cating the most monstrous atrocities, as preaching eternal reprobation, as advocating an accursed system of slavery, as upholding an aggressive wai* — what have I to think but, as it was in the days of ancient Israel, the ark of God is carried out by the uncircumcised to battle, and there is need — strong, solemn, and passionate need — that the Elis of our Israel should sit upon the way- side, watching, for their hearts tremble for the ark of God. 3. And then there was, in the third place — and it i» the last particular that I shall mention — there was in the camp of ancient Israel indifference. I do not mean to say that there was not a sort of patriotism — a natural t OF GOD. re of religion — a man able at home, saintly week, ostentatious in it grinding his own poor — when I see u Y in heaven, distance n the race of fashion, !e a man, whose reli- fy censorious in his hen I see a man, to te wardship, grudging ; when I see a man, ov»n disciples for in- is footsteps, and yet his fold ; or when in represented as vindi- cities, as preaching an accursed system ive wai* — what have I of ancient Israel, the circumcised to battle, I and passionate need lid sit upon the way- emble for the ark of bird place — and it is ention — there was in 'ence. I do not mean patriotism — a natural BoUCITUDK FOR TflK AUK OF OnD. 1S5 and common wish for victory — a desire to free them- selves from the Philistine thrall. But patriotism, to bo real and to be hallowed, must have rill-lieartodncss ; and this was lacking. They had no confidence in their leaders ; there was among them the element of dis- union. The laxity of their lives had of necessity en- feebled somewhat their moral principles, so that the high and chivalrous inspirations of the true lover of his country were emotions that were above them and beyond them. Hence, they went out into the battle- field, but they went with paralyzed arms ; conscience made cowards of them, and, recreant and panic-stricken, they fled at the first attack of the foe. And, brethren, can there be any question that a lack of whole-hearted earnestness is one of the chief sources of peril to the ark of God to-day ? Oh, if Laodicea is to bo the type of the Church, it is no wonder that the world sneers and perishes ! If religion, clad in silken sheen, has become a patronized and fashionable thing — a something that men cleave to as they cleave to the other items of a res- pectable life — something that they wear as a sort of armorial bearing for which they pay small duty either to God or man — it is no wonder that the world shouji be heedless of the message, and should subside into the drowsy monotony in which the messengers dream away their lives. Brethren, the poisonous trees do little harm in the vineyard ; they are uprooted as soon as they are seen. It is the barren trees, that cumber the ground and mock the husbandman, that are the curses of the 13G BOLICITUDE FOB THE AUK OF GOD. vineyard of tho Lord. Cases of flagrant apostasy but little hinder the progress of the work; their incon- sistency is SO palpable and manifest. They arc the true hinderers, under the shadow of whose luxnry, and idle- ness, and frivolity, the Church sits at ease in Zion, while they arc eating out its inner life as the vampire sucks out tho life-blood of tlie victim that it is all the while fanning with its wings. Oh, brethren, wo need all of us a baptism for a deeper and diviner earnestness, that we may bear our testimony for God. We are u witnessing Church ; this is our character and our mis- sion. But, alas ! our witness has sometimes been feeble and has sometimes been false. We have been altogether too secular and too selfish. We have not been prophets —not we ; but stammering, hesitating, blushing child- ren, ashamed of the message that our Father has bidden us deliver. We have sought morality rather than holi- ness, serenity rather than sacrifice, smooth things to conciliate the world rather tbau strong things to conquer the world. Wo have been content to grasp all the world's wealth and honor that we could, and then, in the great wreck, some on boards and some on broken pieces of the ship, to get ourselves safe to land, rather than, freighted with heavenly treasure, to cast anchor in the fair haven with colors flying, and amid the glad welcome of the multitudes on shore. Oh, there is room, brethren, indeed there is, for the taunt of the infidel: "Ye Christians are as infidel as I am; ye do not believe in your own system; if you did, like a fire in your r } r 1 a n s; o o L d P s Bl a tl g' 8t it Q to th ai w sa W( ag t OF GOD. aagrant apostasy but work; tlieir incon- ,t. They arc the true liose luxury, and idle- iits at case in Zion, !r life as the vampire ;tim that it is all the ►h, bx'cthren, wo need d diviner earnestness, for God. We are u liaracter and our mis- Bouietimes been feeble B have been altogether ave not been prophets ating, blushing child- our Father has bidden ■ality rather than holi- ice, smooth things to rong things to conquer itent to grasp all the (ve could, and then, in 3 and some on broken es safe to land, rather reasure, to cast anchor ng, and amid the glad )re. Oh, there is room, e taiint of the infidel: ! am ; ye do not believe id, like a fire in your SOLIorrUDE FOK TUK AUK OP COP. 137 ooiies, it would burn you into action, if by any means you miglit save some." Oh ! everything around us is rebuking this lethi>rgic and this professional piety. Everything is in earnest— suns in their constant shininir, and rivers in their ceaseless flow ; the breeze that stops not day nor niglit to bear liealth upon its wings, the spring tripping up the winter, tljo seed-time liastening on the harvest— all are activity, faltering not, any one of them, in the sure and steady purjwse of their being. Error is in earnest ; Pagans are self-devoted ; Mohamme- danism has her resolute and valiant sons ; Popery com- passes sea and land to make one proselyte ; infidels walk Avarily and constantly, scattering the seeds of unbelief. Society is in earnest; the sons of enterprise do not slumber; the warriors— liow they hail the clarion call, and rush eagerly into the battle; the students— how they consume the oil of the lamp and the oil of life to- gether ; Mammon's votaries — are they the laggards in the streets ? Oh, everything around us seems to be lashed into intensest energy, while we — ingrates that we are, God forgive us ! — with the noblest work in the universe to do, and the most royal facilities to do it with ; with the obligations of duty, and gratitude, anu brotherhood, and fellowship ; with the vows of discipleship upon us ; with death at our doors and in our homes ; and with the sad, wailing sound, as if it came from places where men were and are not : " No man hath cared for my soul " — we are heedless and exclusive, selfish and self- aggrandizing, and, worst of all, as self-satisfied with our 138 eonunuuK fur tiik akk of god. i,n-udgcJ obedience, and our scanty eflbrt, and our licartlcss prayer, as if no sinners were in peril and as if no Christ hud died. And is it really so ? Has that mightiest motive lost its power? Is Mammon really more potent than ]\[essiali 2 Has tlio crucifix a holier inspiration than the cross? Is it true that war can move men's passions, and science stimulate their souls, and trade intensify their energies, and ambition flamo their blood ? and is Christianity nothing but a worn-out gpell — a dim memorial of ancient power — an ex- tinguished volcano, with no firo slumbering in its mighty heart ? Is it true ? Thy cross, O Jesus, has it lost its magnetism? docs it no longer draw all men nnto thee ? Tliy love, O Saviour, boundless, unfathom- able, all-embracing, doth it constrain no longer the souls for whom thy blood was shed ? It is yours to answer these questions ; do it as in the eight of God. But, oh 1 when we sec the terrible indifference around ns — when we see the awful contrast between the intensity of oui beliefs and the smallness of our doings for Christ — what wonder is it that the Elis of our Israel, who, with all their faults, feel their heart-strings quiver in solicitude for the interests of Zion, should sit by the wayside, watching, because their hearts tremble for the ark of God? May God the Holy Ghost come down, and write these truths upon the hearts of all, for his name's sake 1 ' slumbering in its jrosB, O Jesus, has it inger draw all men boundless, unfathom- iii no longer the souls t is yours to answer htofGod. But, oh 1 ico around us — when I the intensity of oui ings for Christ — what Israel, who, with all 3 quiver in solicitude sit by the wayside, emble for the ark of down, and write these is name's sake ! •Hi V. THE INCAKNATIOI^i OF CIIEIST. " Forasmuch then as the children arc partakers of flesh and blood, he also himself likewise took part of the same." — Hkb. 11. 14. Some eighteen hundred years ago, in the land of Judah, and in the city of Jerusalem, a strange restless- ness had come upon the public mind. If a stranger just about that time had visited the Holy City, and had made himself acquainted with the inner life of its inhabitants, he would have found them all engrossed with one absorbing theme. It had superseded, as matter of interest, commerce, and conquest, and the intrigues of faction, and the subjects of ordinary poli- tics. It had become the unconfessed hope of matrons and the deep study of earnest men. So prevalently had it spread, that it became identified with every thinking of the Hebrew mind, and with every beating of the Hebrew heart. This topic was the advent of a Deliverer who had been promised of God unto their fathers. Their holy books contained circumstantial directions, both as to the signs of his coming, and as to the period about which he might be expected to 140 TlIK INCARNATION OK CIIKIST. aiipcur, and these various prophccica converged their fullillmcnt. Tlicrc were rumori', moreover, certain meteoric appearances, which in Eastern coun- tries were deemed tlie lumiiKnis heralds of the birth of a great king ; and the heart of many a patriot Jew would throb more quickly, as in his vain dream of nuitcrial empire he saw the Messiah, already, in vision, triumpliing over his enemies, and his followers flushed with the spoil. In the midst of this national expect- an(!y, events of strong significance were occurring in a quarter from which the eyes of the world would have turned heedlessly or in scorn, Tlie national census was decreed to be taken throughout the Jewish provinces of the Roman empire in the time of Augustus Ca;sar. In obedience to the imperial enactment, each man, with his household, went up for enrollment to his own — that is, his ancestral city. The uuAvonted influx of strangers had crowded the little inn in the little city of Bethle- hem, one of the least among the thousands of Judah ; BO that the out-buildings were laid under tribute to furnish shelter to later comers. In the stable of that mean hostelry a young child was born. There was nothing about him to distinguish him from the ordinary oflfspring of Jewish mothers, and yet, at the moment of his birtii, a new song from angel harps and voices rang through the plains of Bethlehem and ravished the watchful shepherds with celestial harmonies. Small space had passed ere wondering peasants beheld a star of unusual brightness hovering over that obscure dwell- b i ol w tl kl fl( li: hi w fo tl Si ii] n( se 01 tl tl ei b< h m gi fl( tl CIIKIST. iccica converged to unorf, luorcovcr, eh ill Eastern coun- henikls of the birth many a i^.atriot Jew u 1 L liirt vain dream of di, already, in vision, his followers flushed this national expect- !e were occurring in :he world would have e national census was the Jewish provinces 3 of Angnstus Csesar. ment, each man, with ncnt to his own — that ed influx of strangers little city of Bethle- thousands of Judah ; aid under tribute to In the stable of that as born. There was lim from the ordinary . yet, at the moment gel harps and voices liem and ravished the lI harmonies. Small ;easants beheld a star er that obscure dwell- TUE INCARNATION OF OIIRIdT. Ul iug ; and by and by the inn was thrown into confusion by the arrival of a company of foreigners from afar ott' — swarthy and richly apparelled, Avho made their way to the stable with costly gifts and spices, which tliey presented to the new-born babe, and bowed the knee before him in homage, as to a royal child. Rapidly flew the glad tidings of great joy — jiassed from Hp to lip, until the whole city was full of them — scorned by haughty Pharisees with scoffs and doubting — hailed with devout gladness by the faithful few who waited for the consolation of Israel — agitating all classes of the people — startling the vassal monarch on his throne — " Unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, who is Christ the Lord." Brethren, it is ours in this day to rejoice in the bless- ing which on that day descended on mankind. Blind- ness, indeed, hath happened unto Israel, so that they see not the glorious vision. And there are many among ourselves to turn away their eyes from the sight. But the advent of tlie Saviour has been the chiefest joy of the multitudes who once struggled like ourselves on earth, and who now triumph through his grace in heaven; and multitudes more, rejoicing in his true humanity, and happy in their brotherhood with Im- manuel, cease not to thank God for the unspeakable gift, that, " forasmuch as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, he also himself likewise took part of the same." *< ^' . ;; ' The great fact, of course, which the Apostle wishofl 142 THE INCARNATIDX OF CBBI8T. to impresd upon U8, is our Saviour's assumption of bu- iiiaTiity. And there arc certain salient cbr..actcristic8 c.f that incarnation, upon whicli, in order that we may Lave it presented iu all its aspects of blessing before our minds, wo may not unprofttably dwell. I. AVe observe, in the first place, then, that tue Saviouk's assumption of humanity was an act ok in- FtNiTE condescension. It is obviously impossible that the language in which the Apostle here refers to Christ could bo used legitimately of any being possessed essen- tially of the nature of flesh and blood. The language before us, applied to any mere man, even the holiest, even the most heroic, would bo impertinent and with- out meaning. There is obviously implied the fact of his prei'xistence, and of his preoxistcnco in a nature other and higher than that which he assumed. In a subsequent verso the implication is further made, that this preexistenc3 was in a nature other and higher than the angelic. ]''or in his descent from the highest to recover and save, he took not hold on angels — ^they perished without redemption and without hope; but he took bold on the seed of Abraham. In the former chapter the Apostle rather largely illustrates his supe- riority to the angel : " When ho bringetb in the first- begotten into the world, he saith. Let all the angels of God worship him." Just as when a crown prince goes a travel into some foreign realm, all the choicest of the nobility are selected to wait upon his bidding and fol- low in his train, bo when Ho bringeth his first»begotten at in in iiii lir is 8U( of thi an G( foi gri in sci au< Ja bo wa bel uni r the me of sta; roa die r CBBIST. nr's assumption of bu- salicnt cbr-^actcristics in order that we may sets of blessing before )ly dwell, place, then, that the lY -WAS AN ACr OK IN- iously impossible that lo here refers to Christ being possessed essen- blood. The language man, even the holiest, impertinent and with- ly implied the fact of jl'xistenco in a nature ch he assumed. In a 1 is further made, that 1 other and higher than Lt from the highest to hold on angels — ^they nd -without hope; but traham. In the former ely illustrates his supe- D bringeth in the first- li. Let all the angels of len a crown prince goes I, all the choicest of the on his bidding and fol- ingeth his first'begotten TIIK INCARNATION OF CIIKIST. 143 iito the Morld — a foreign realm to him— lie bays, "Let all the anguls of God "—all the principalities and powers in heavenly places— worship, bow down to, wait upon, minister to him. Again, "of the angels he saitli. Who niaketh his angels spirits, and his ministera a llamo of lire. Hut unto the Son he saith. Thy tlirone, O God, is forever and ever ; a sceptre of righteousness is the sceptre of thy kingdom." From the scope and tenor of these ])afisagC8 — indeed, from the scope and tenor of the Ai»08tle's entire argument, we are swift to conclude, and Ave are bold to affirm, the proper and unoriginated Godhead of the Saviour ; that it was God made man fur man to die. Yes, brethren, that stoop of illimitable graciousncss was from the highest to the lowest. And in mysterious union with the child-heart of that uncon- scious babe the veiled Divinity slumbered. That weary and hungry traveller along the journey of life— it was Jehovah's fellow! Tliat meek sufferer whose head is bowed to drink the cup of bitterness to the dregs — it was the true God, and eternal life ! Strange marriage between the finite and the infinite; incomi^rehengible union between the divine and human ! There are scoflfers in the world, I know, who dieniiss the mystery of the incarnation, and deride it as the fig- ment of fancy, or as the vision of fanaticism. They are of two kinds mostly : some who try everything by the standard of their own ideas, and who exalt their own reason — at beat of no great tallness, and which preju- dice haa dwarfed into yet pigmier statui'e — into abao db 141 THK INOAKNATIOM OK CHRIST. luti! aictutorslnp over tho realm of miiul ; ftiid others muro .U-gnuled, who «eok a license lor their desperate wifkcdni'srt luni.lst tho BkeptieiBins of a Btill more des- porate intidolity, who dmWm tho narrative of the in- caniation because it is a rn>«tery, Bomethiiig that i« not patent to tho Bcuscs, which they aver to he the only means of knowledge. All tho while they live in a niyBtoriouB world where there are thousandB of Bccretrt which their hearts cannot nnravel. In the ordinary re;,(.nrcc8 of liftv i.i the daily henclita which Providence pours forth ungrudgingly, they take their churlish share of blessings whoso wherefore they understand not. They are themselves a mystery, perlmps, greater than aught. They cannot, any one of them, luidcrstand that subtile organism Avhich they call man, nor how that strange essence or principle, which they call life, floods them every moment with rapture; and yet, with marvellous inconsistency, credulous on matters where no mystery might bo expected to abide, they are skeptical in mat- ters Avhere mystery exists of necessity, and where the absence of it would be a suspicious sign : " For canst thou by searching find out God ; canst thou find out the Almighty mito perfection?" ' '^ '"" -T'"^-"* Brethren, the incarnation of Christ is a mystery — an inexplicable and solemn mystery. But were there no mystery, on the other hand, think you, in the event of Christ being a mere man? How stands the case? There is an individual obscurely born ; reared in vil- lage humbleness ; looked on by his kindred according t 1 f t t 1 V 8 t t: a 1) s c ii I' t] li o a a I b U CHRIST. of inliul ; and others for their dcflpcrato s of a Btill tnoro des- narrativo of the iii- Boniethiiig that ia not aver to he the only rthilo they live in u thousands of eccrcts rc\. In the ordinary tits which Providence cc their churlish share understand uot. Thoy 9, greater than aught, [iderstand that suhtilc nor how that strange call life, floods them 1 yet, with marvellous crs where no mystery r are skeptical in mat- eessity, and where the ious sign : " For canst i; canst thou find out Mirist is a mystery — an y. But were there no k you, in the event of low stands the caee'i y born ; reared in vil- lus kindred according mn I>fCAKNATIOJf OF CHUI8T. l45 to the flesh witli cohhieHa, if not with (h'wliko; with no urinti)cratif coinu-ctions, with no nohlc patromige ; ti'Il- ing to all to whom ho niinlBtered, with a strange can- dor, that ho rt'K CI1KI8T. ness of the incarnation which at once exalts our reve- roncc and au,Mncnts our aftection for o- Surety and Friend. We judge of the excellency of v.^o by e ^villiughood with which it i. practiced. AVc caunot enter into a proper con.parison, because we are a under the bond of one common obligation ; but we all know that the virtue shines the most brightly which i8 prac- tised amidst hazard and suffering, rather than that ^hich is accorded where duty is inviting, and where obedience is profitable. Viewed in this hght, what a wealth of disinterested generosity there is m the incar- nation of Christ. The voice was heard from the midst of the throne : « Hero I am ; se.d me. Lo I come. In the volume of tlie book it is written of me, to do thy will, O my God." In another passage: "I dehght to do thy will." Kow, just think of wliat the will of God in this instance comprehended. The veiling the essen- tial glory, the tabernacling in human flesh, the hon>e- IcsB wandering, the pangs of desertion and treachery, the abhorred contact with evil, the baptism of fire, beside the crown of sorrow, the dread hiding of the Father's countenance in portentous eclipse. And into tliis more than Egyptian darkness Jesus delighted to enter, for the sake of fallen man. Wlieu he assumed the form of a servant, and, actually incarnate, entered upon tlie work of redemption, it was with no reluctant step, in no hireling spirit. It was his meat and his drink; as necessary and pleasing to him as his daily sustenance, to do the will of his Father which was in C11KI8T. THE INCARNATION OK OIIUIST. 161 )ncc exalts o\ir reve- 11 for our Surety and jncy of virhio by tlic iictised. AVo cannot cause we arc all under on ; but we all know •ightly wliicli is prac- ng, ratlicr than that 8 inviting, and where . in this light, what a ' there is in the incar- heard from the midst 1 inc. Lo I come. In ■itten of mo, to do thy lassage: "I delight to f what the will of God The veiling the essen- luman flesh, the honie- 38crtion and treachery, [, the baptism of fire, le dread hiding of the ;ous eclipse. And into less Jesus delighted to m. Wlien he assumed ually incarnate, entered t was with no reluctant -was his meat and his ng to him as his daily lis Father which was in licavcn. Steadily pursuing one purpose, lie was heed- less of all that liindcrcd ; lie felt irrepressible longings for its accomplishment; and his soul was like a prisoned bird that daslics itself for freedom against the grating of the cage : " I have a ba])tism to bo baptized with ; liow am 1 straitened till it be accomjilished." Steadily pursuant of that pui-pose, he was liccdless of all that hindered. Now passing through a threatening mob, now turning from an offered crown, now resisting wisely the temptations of the enemy, now casting behind him tlie more dangerous, because more affectionate remon- strances of his disciples, and now repelling the sugges- tive aid of tAvelve legions of angels from heaven. Oh, as sinners like ourselves, at far off, reverent distance, watch him in his redemptive course — as, one wave after another wave, the proud waters go over his soul, and he dashes off the spray, and holds on his course, unfal- tering and steady, to the end — Avith what depth of gratitude should we render him the homage of our hearts, and with what earnestness and self-accusation should we take to ourselves the burden of every melancholy sigh ! 1 1 ' , ,1]' V ^ , . . " For all his wounds to sinners cry — I suffered this for you." in. I observe, thirdly, tue Saviouk's assumption op HUMANITY WAS NOT ONLY CONDESCENDINO AND VOLUN- TARY, BUT IT WAS COMPLETE. It was no mock assum])- tion of humanity. The whole nature was taken on. 152 THK INCARNATION OF CUKI8T. He had a human body with all its infinnities ; he had a liuman soul with its completoncss of faculty aud its capability of endurance, with its every capacity, with its every aflfection. Tliero were three reasons which seemed to render this entire assumption of human nature necessary. It was necessary, first, because the man had sinned, and upon the man, therefore must come the brand of Jehovah's displeasure. It was neces- sary, secondly, that the world might have the best and utmost manifestation of God, and that humanity, too gross and bewildered to comprehend ideas that were purely spiritual, might see in the Incarnate Son the highest embodied possibility of being. It was neces- sary, thirdly, that the felt need of the people in all ages of the world's history might bo supplied— the need of perfect pureness allied to perfect 6ymi>athy— of the strength which was omnipotent to deliver, married to the tenderness that was brave and deep to feel. Tlio complete humanity of Jesus has been attested by abun- dant authentications. In every legitimate sense of the word he was a mam with man. He did not take our sinful nature upon him; that is only an inseparable accident of humanity ; it came in after the creation, in and it should go out before the end. Therefore, every legitimate sense of the word, he was man with man. He was born helpless as other children arc. His early years were spent in the house o his reputed father, working at his handicraft for bread. He grew in wisdom and in stature as other children grow ; not at V 1 1 i I t I 6 t: t( q V n 1( c n ic cl 01 h CUKI8T. infinnitiee ; he had a 38 of faculty and its every capacity, with three reasons which ssumption of human iary, first, because the man, therefore must leasure. It was neces- ^ht have the best and id that humanity, too shend ideas that were he Incarnate Son the being. It was neces- r the people in all ages supplied— the need of ect 6ymi>alhy — of the to deliver, married to md deep to feel. Tlie been attested by abuu- lejritimate sense of the He did not take our is only an inseparable in after the creation, lie end. Therefore, in rord, he was man with )thcr children are. His house o his reputed ft for bread. He grew sr children grow ; not at TUK INCAUNATION OF CUUIST. 153 once, but by the slow ripening of years developed into the maturity of man. When he entered on his public ministry and went out among hi.s fellows, he sustained, as they did, the relation6lii])s of mutual dependence and hel]). He was no self-eleeted reformer. He was no turbulent inflamer of unlioiy jiassions. Faulty as was the goveniment under which he lived, ho was a loyal subject, paid the tribute money without murmur- ing, and siibmitted himself to every ordinance of man. He was no dark ascetic; he was a brother of the multi- tudes, mingling in all the grief and cheerfulness of life. If men invited him to their houses, he went and sat down with them at their boards. If they asked him to their marriage festivals, he graced them with his i>ro- sence, and turned the water into wine; and mingled his tears with theirs w). n the light of their homes was quenched, and when some loved one was suddenly withdrawn. His care for them who trusted him ceased not Avith his own danger, for, having loved his own, he loved them to the end. His filial affection was conspi- cuous throughout every part of his life, and shone radiant as a star through the darkness of his agony. He was the man Christ Jesus. How is it that you identify him with our nature ? "What are the peculiar characteristics by which you understand that such a one is partaker of humanity? Does human nature hunger? He hungered in the plain where the delusive fig-tree grew. Does human nature thirst ? He felt the pang sharply upon the cross. Is human nature wearied 7* 164 THE INCAENATION OF CUKI8T. under the pressuvo of travelling and of toil ? Ho sat thus upon tlie well. Does lininan nature veop unbid- den tears? Pity wrung them from him as ho gazed upon the fated and lost Jerusalem ; and sorrow Avrung them from him at the grave where Lazarus lay. Docs human nature shrink and fear in the prospect of im- pending trial, cowering beneath the apprehended peril, and pray that dread pangs may bo spared it ? In the days of his flesh, when he poured out his supplications with strong crying and tears, " ho was heard, in that he feared." He was the man Christ. Come, ye seekers after the sublime, behold this man— marred enough by sorrow, but not at all by sin; decorated witli every grace, yet disfigured by no blemish of mortality ; ray- ing out warmth and life into the hearts and homes of men ; with not an act that you can trace up to selfish- ness, and not a word that you can brand as insincere ; with his whole life of kindness, and his death an expia- tion—behold the Divine Manl Talk of the dignity of human nature— it is there, and you can find it nowhere in the universe beside. "The boast of heraldry, -the pomp of power," the skill to make canvaa speak or marble breathe, or to play upon men's hearts as upon a harp of many tunes, the mad ambition that would climb to fame by slopes where the trampled lie, and where the red rain drops from many a heart's blood— what are their claims to his? Hush, ye candidates for greatness, and let him speak alone. Erase meaner names from thy tablets, thou applauding world, and clironicle this Si AH Tl CO It ha of vis bri wl sin ev( Bid of 8p( uni he up( sue wii lik( tha bef bei r CIIKIBT. and of toil ? Ho sat an nature veop unbid- rom him as ho gazed !m ; and Borrow Avrung !ro Lazarus lay. Docs in the prospect of im- the apprehended peril, bo spared it ? In the d out his supplications 10 was heard, in that he ■ist. Come, ye seekers an — marred enough by decorated witli every nish of mortality ; ray- hearts and homes of can trace up to selfish- can brand as insincere ; and his death an cxpia- Talk of the dignity of you can find it nowhere ! boast of heraldry, -the make canvaa speak or 1 men's hearts as upon a ibition that would climb trampled lie, and where heart's blood — what are candidates for greatness, ase meaner names from irorld, and clironicle this TUB INCABNATION OF CUItlST. 155 name instead. Shrine it in your living hearts, those of you who trust in his atonement, and who come by his mediation unto God ; grave it there, deeper than all oiiier names — the man Christ Jesus. IV. I observe, fourthly, the ixcarxation of tiir SaVIOUB was not only CONDESCKNDma, AND VOLUNTARY, AND COMPLETE, BUT IT WAS ALSO, AND OUIEFLT, ATONINO.— The great purpose for which he came into the MorM could not bo properly accomplislicd but through dt-atli. It was through death that he was fo destroy him that had the power of death, that is, tlio devil. Intimations of this had come previotisly into the world, in tlio visions of seers, from the lips of propliots, in the adum- brations and typical shadowings of some great Otiercr, who, in the end of the world, should appear to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself. All other purposes, how- ever separably noticeable, become subordinate and sub- sidiary to this. Hence Christ did not become partaker of flesh and blood that he might give to the world a spotless example. Although holiness, illustrious and unspotted, does beam out from every action of his life, he was not incarnate in order that he might impress upon the world the teachings of pure morality ; although such were the spirituality of his lessons, and the power wii;h which he taught them, that "never man spake like this man." He did not assume our nature merely that he might work his healing wonders, showing, before the bleared vision of the world, omnipotence in beneficent action. All these things, however separably 166 THE INCAUNATMN OF CHitlST. noticeable, were not vast cn<,ugli or grand enough to have brought the Saviour lVou» hcavei.. Miracles, pre- ceptB, ki«ane..ce, all these ^vere collateral blesBings- flowers that sprung up, as at the tread of the labled goddess, ^vherever he appeared. Large and lull ni ]m si.dit, through all the years of his incarnate l.fe, u.ore distinctly, more vividly, in the las. , oars of his ministry, loomed the shadow of the ligurc of the cross : » That is the end of my toil; that is the consummation of ray purpose, I am straitened till I get to that ; I have not fultiUcd my mission and expressed all the Divine energy that I am to pour out upon the world until I reach that. Tlicro is the goal of all my endeavors ; there I see tny true office before mc-the surety of insolvent humanity, the friend of a forsaken race, the refuge and Buccor of endangered man." If yuu will think for a while, you will see how all the other characteristics of the incaniation converged hero, and were each of them necessary in order to give this, the master-purpoBO, its efficacy and its power. It was necessary that a being of holy estate should condescend, Divinity sustaining humanity under the pressure of agony, and imparting to humanity a plenitude of atoning meritoriousnesB. It was necessary that the offering should be voluntary, because there could be no availablencss in exacted suf- fering; and the offering must be profoundly willing before it could be infinitely worthy. It was necessary that the whole nature should be taken on, because the man had sinned and the man must die; and as ni til hi th wl tic ex frt N( tai lie tin wj Ai atr Lil of cht the say liol froi der bef OHitlBT. or grnntl enough to ;avci». Jlivacles, pre- colUitcral blesBings— B tread of the fabled Large and full in his 8 incarnate life, ujore ,^ cars of his ministry, )f the cro8B : " That is consummation of my ct to that ; I have not I all the Divine energy orld until I reach that, ndcavors; there I bco 13 surety of insolvent jn race, the refuge and f you will think for a other characteristics of and were each of them the master-purpoBO, its necessary that a being lid. Divinity sustaining ngony, and imparting to ng meritoriousncBfl. It r should be voluntary, ablencss in exacted suf- , be profoundly willing rthy. It was necessary e taken on, because the an must die ; and as TUB INCARNATION OF CIIU18T. ^ 147 liumanity, in its federal representative, the first Adam, had been drawn to death, bo liumanity, in its federal representative, the second Adam, might have the free gift coming npon all men unto justification of lifo. Now, you see how far wo have got in our search for nn accepted propitiation. Wo liavo got a willing vic- tim. \io have got a willing victim in the nature that had sinned ; wo have got a willing victim in the nature that had sinned with no obligation of his own, and all whose merit, therefore, could be to spare for the redemp- tion of the sinner. Justice herself required only another exaction, and tliat is, that this willing victim sliould bo free from taint, whctlier of hereditary or actual crime. 'Now, the miraculous conception freed IVom the heredi- tary taint of Juiman nature; and, thus freed from liereditary defilement, he was born, not of blood, not in the ordinary method of linnian generation, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God. And he moved about in the midst of his fellows in an atmosphere of impurity, yet escaping its contagion. Like the queenly moon shining down upon the haunts of beggars, and dens of thieves, yet preserving its chastity and its brilliance unimpaired, he moved among the Bcum and offecouring of human society, and coidd say, "Which of you convicteth mc of sin?" He was holy, harmless, undefiled, separate from sinners; evoking from heaven its attesting thunders ; charming the won- dering earth with spotlessness which it had never seen before ; and (crown of triumph !) wringing from baffled 158 THE INCiVnNA'rioK OF CIIKI8T. ,lcmo,,. llu. ,-ol,K.l.n>t „ck,u,wl<-.lpm.n., "Wo know U,o» ,„!„,, lV.e irom ol.ligu.io,,, ma.,'- ■^'«";"' ^"^'';» ' " ^ inca „ate Son. Mlow l,in, in tho shadow of In. , « In. Clo«o npon .ho agony of Ooth.on,ano cmno h . a„ t ^v 11.0 ,rcach.ry of one whom ho ad honored. ra.ton.ly 1.0 boar, .ho rihaUlry a...l i.....l "• "- '"f W,oMn.lK...on,.l,al.ofl'ilato. Wcuily ho .road, h ,«.,h«ay .0 Clvary, hoarin. ).« own ero... ^ow, ,„o .0. « roaml. Tho ,n....i....l« aro P-ho.-o.! h ,„, hill ..r «ha,..o. Tho nail» aro fas.onc, .no tho ' -vori.,, flo,h; and in agony and .or.„ro ohb. 1...,."'" hf „«-a,- Tho h.». .ni..i..ori..g ....gol loavo. h.n,, tor ho .id ,1.0 wi..e,>rc. alono. Da.kno. «a.ho™ ... 1- ,„:,dy r„.„.d-, and-oh, n.y.lo.y o -.-'"O- "^^^ Ka.lfev hidoB his faco ft™" the Bolovod. U..rlc.n..« d ,o..B in .ho .ley and in .1.0 n.ind-l.ow long h »ffi gh.od gators know no.. A cry l.nvM. hrongh tho Zm, sharp, shrill, piorcing. All is s.lon,-,. .= |^,od 1 1^; nigl.., that had olunbod .^ strange » ,ho throno of noon, a. snddcly d.s;.orsod. Tho .m.U, , .hat oagor and wondering had B"*-* J"^*;'; 1,111 of shamo, soparatod to thoir sovoral homes, l«lk.ng W .ho ...^gedy .Ley had wi.nossod. Tho moon roso :„ high as oataly as if the snn l.ad no. set on a seeno o. Wood Bn.,ol,l wha. a ohango those few hours had light in he fortnnes of the world. Christ had d.ed, JIIKIBT. out, " Wo know thoo ,0(1." Iliir^** then, "ih ; victim; R wiUinj,' mipd, and frco from k-rmil Saviour, Ood'^ B ehadow of his ]n\»- Jcthscmiino camo his lom he had honored, md insnlt in the dis- Wcarily ho treads hifl own croHW. Now, le are gathorod about irc fastcnt'd into the I torture ebbs his pure iirrcl loavea him, for he Darkness gathers sud- ,.y of mystery!— the e" Beloved. Darkness mind— how long, the C17 bursts through the All is silent— it is dimbed np strangely to dispersed. The multi- had gathered round the r several homes, talking ncssed. Tho moon rose lad not set on a scene of ro those few hours bad ^orld. Christ had died, TIIK INCARNATION OF CTIKIsr. 189 the just for the unjust, that ho might bring us to (iod. (10, tell it to that dfspairiiig siniu'i' — that man, I mean, who has the cord about liis neck, and the pistol at liis tiiroat, who is just about to escape from the terrible har- rowings of an ahirmed conscience, by the dreadful alter- uative of self-murder. (lO to him; be quick ; tell liiin he need not die, for Christ has died, luis died to bear his sins away. I'roclaim salvation from the J.uril for M'retchod dying men. Sound it out from the summit of that hill-sido of Calvary, and let tho sister hills echo it, until round the cartli has spread the rapturous hosanna — Salvation I Go with it to tho wretelied, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked; it is just tho thing they need — Salvation ! Iling it out through every avenue of this vast metropolis of a world, till it rouse tho slumbering dust, and awake the coflined dead — Salvation ! Take it to your own hearts — bo sure of that; and, in the fullness of your own experience, let us liear your song: "There is, therefore, now no condem- nation to them that are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after tho flesh, but after the Spirit." How is it with you, brethren ? I'low is it with you to-night? Have you any personal interest in the incar- nation of the Saviour? lias the realizing change by which you aro enabled to understand the purposes of tho Saviour's advent come upon your heart ? Have tho purposes of his advent been fulfilled in your experience ? Ho came " to destroy him that had the power of death," that is, the devil — to counter-work him on his own 160 TUK INCARNATION OF CHRIST. ground ; is he slain in you— vanquished and overcome in yon ? He came » to deliver them who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage ;" are you freed from the tyranny? Have you entered into the liberty wherewith Christ has promised to make you free ? He has accomplisl'iri his purpose. Many a one has gone blithely to the stake in the name of Jesus ; many a one has marched steadily with eyes open to meet the last enemy, trusting in Jesus. No, not much fear of death about Stephen, when in the gloom of that fierce council he looked up and saw heaven opened, and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of the throne of God, and all that were in the council, looking stcad- * fastly on him, saw his face as it had been the face of an angel. Not much fear of death in Taul. That is more patent to your experience, perhaps ; for he was a blas- phemer once, we know— a persecutor once, an injurious man once; but he obtained mercy, and ho is presented in what I take to be one of the sublimest passages of Scripture: "I am in a strait betwixt two"— frail, erring, sinful, mortal man poised, so to speak, in balance between both w^orlds, having the choice of either, and not knowing which to take—" I am in a strait betwixt two, having a desire to depart and to be with Christ, which is far better ; but to remain in the flesh is more needful for you." Not much fear of death there. Ho came "to deliver them who, through fear of death, were all their life-time subject to bondage." How is it with you? Does the Spirit take of the things of Christ ATION OF CHRIST. ou — vanquished and overcome lelivcr them who through fear 'etime subject to bondage;" are nuy? Have you entered into irist has promised to make you ib:ri iiis purpose. Many a one 3 stake in the name of Jesus ; ed steadily with eyes open to isting in Jesus. No, not much >hen, when in the gloom of that up and saw heaven opened, and / at the right hand of the throne i-e in the council, looking stoad- ice as it had been the face of an of death in raul. That is more ,ce, perhaps ; for he was a blas- — a persecutor once, an injurious ined mercy, and ho is presented ne of the sublimest passages of a strait betwixt two"— frail, m poised, so to speak, in balance laving the choice of either, and take — " I am in a strait betwixt depart and to be with Christ, it to remain in the flesh is more t much fear of death there. Ho m who, through fear of death, subject to bondage." How is it jpirit take of the things of Christ TKK INCAKNATION OF CUIUST. 101 and show them to you? Docs he witness to you of your own personal adoption into the family of God ? If you hesitate to say that, can you say, as the old woman in Scotland said, when questioned npon the fact of her adoption : "I can say this; cither 1 am changed or the world is changed." Can you say that? Has the cautery begun its work? Is the proud flesh getting eaten out by the live coal from the altar? Are you ceasing to do evil and learning to do well — bringing forth fruits meet for repentance ? Do you hate sin with ever-increasing hatred, and press forward to the cultiva- tion of the things that are of good report and lovely ? Alas 1 it will be sad for you if the incarnation of Christ should be to you a mystery forever, if there be no light coming upon his purposes, no experience of the fulfill- ment of them in your o-.rn hearts. Oh, seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness. Hallow this dedicatory service by the dedication of your own hearts to God. Let there be this sacrifice, a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable, which is your reasonable service. • li ;;. ri )■ VI. ZEAL IN THE CAUSE OF CIIRISl. .'For whether wc be beside ourselves, it is to God: or v^hether we bo sober, it is for your cause. For the love of Christ coostraineA us; be- cause we thus judge, that if one died for aU, then were »» ^-^j -* that i.e died for all, that they who live should not henceforth J.v unto themselves, but unto him who died for them, and rose aga.n. -2 Cob. V. 13-16. It is always an advantage for the advocate of any particular cause to know the tactics of his adversary^ He will be the better prepared for the onset, and repel the attack the n.orc easily. Forewarned of danger he ^vill intrench himself in a position from which it will be impossible to dislodge him. The Apostle Paul pos- Bcssed this advantage in a very eminent degree. In the earlier years of his apostleship, the Jew and the Greek were the antagonists with whom he had to contend. Ilavin.^ been himself a member of the straitcst sect of the Jews, he knew full well the antipathy with which tliey regarded anything which set itself by its simplicity in contrast with their magnificent ritual; and he knew also the haughty scorn with which they turned away from what they deemed the unworthy accessories of tho i«s " U^,r.rt? •-«*'**'■ ^ =T" .V-, -il*'*^***^'-'*'*^** ZKAL IN TlIK OAUSli: OK OIIUIBT. 1G3 OF cimisi. 9 to God: or whether we bo ' Christ constraineth us ; be- all, then were all dead ; and lulJ not henceforth live unto im, and rose again."— 2 Cob. • the advocate of any ctlcs of Ills adversary )r tlic onset, and repel ■ewarned of danger, he 1 from which it will be he Ai-ostle Panl pos- minent degree. In the the Jew and the Greek m he had to contend, of the straitcst sect of ! antipathy with which it itself by its simplicity nt ritual ; and he knew liich they turned away rorthy accessories of tho Nazarene. And, well read as ho was in classic litera- ture, and acquainted with all the Jiabits and tendencies of the Grecian mind, he could readily understand how the restraints of the Gospel would be deemed imperti- nent by the voluptuous Corinthian, and how the philosophic Athenian Avould brand its teachers mad. And yet, rejoicing in the experimental acquaintance with the Gospel, he says, for his standing-point of ad- vantage : " "We preach Christ crucified, to the Jews a stumbling-block and to the Greeks foolishness, but to them that are called, the power of God and the wisdom of God." And in tho words of the text, addressing some of those very Corinthians upon whom the Gospel had exerted its power, he seems to accept the stigma and vindicate the glorious madness : " For whether wo be beside ourselves, it is to God: or whether we be eober it is for your cause. For the love of Christ con- straineth us ; because we thus judge, that if one died for all, then were all dead: and that he died for all, that they who live should not henceforth live unto them- selves, bvt unto him who died for them, and rose again.'' The great purpose of the Apostle in these words is to impress upon us the fact that the cause of Christ in tho world, sanctioned by the weight of so many obligations, fraught with the destinies of so many millions, should be furthered by every legitimate means ; that for it, if necessary, should be employed the soberest wisdom; and for it, if necessary, the most impassioned zeal. IIo vindicates the use of zeal in tho cause of Christ by the 164 ZKAI' «N TlIK CAIISK DK VlUilST. three IbUoAving c .noiderationB : First, fro.u tl.o conO^ tion of the ^orld ; Becondly, from the ohbgut-ons of he Church; .lul, thu-dly, from the nmstermotive ot the Saviour's cou.rainin, h>ve. To iUustrate aud enforce this apostolic argu,neut, as not uuarproprunte o tl c objeet^-hich has called us together, ^vdl be our buM- ness for a few brief iiionicnts to-night. I ^riic Apostle argues and enforces the use of zeal m the'cause of Christ, in the first place, from Tr • coKDmox o. THK woK.i>. The Apostle speaks ot the world us in a state of spiritual death. He argues the umversahty of this spiritual death from the universality of the atone- ,nent of Christ. " For the love of Chnst constrame^ us, because we thus judge, that if one died for all, then .V re all dead "-dead in sin, with every viee hixuriant and every virtue languishing; doad in law judicially in the grasp of the avenger ; nay, " condemned already, .„d Urstening to the second death. We need not re- „;ind you that this is by no means the world s estimate of its own condition. It is short-sighted, and, therefore, self-complacent. There is a veil over its eye ; there .s a delusion at its heart. In that delusion it iancies itself enthroned and stately, like some poor lunatic, an i„.aginary monarch under the inflictions of ats keeper The discovery of its true position comes on y when th ,uind is enlightened from on high. " We thus judge, not because there is in us any intuitional sagacity or any prophetical foresight, by which our judgmen .a ,„ade more accurate than the judgment of others; but (■ i;llKI8T. irst, from tlio condi- thc obligations of the mastci- motive of the ilhistratc and enforce inappropriate to the licr, will he our busi- ight. rces the use of zeal in ice, from ti' • condition iks of the world as in a lies the universality of Lvevsality of the utone- of Christ constraineth if one died for all, then th every vice luxuriant dfad in law, judicially , « condemned already," ,eath. We need not re- ans the world's estimate t-sighted, and, therefore, il over its eye ; there is delusion it fancies itself ;ome poor lunatic, an inflictions of its keeper, on comes only when the crli. "We thus judge," Y intuitional sagacity, or which our judgment is judgment of others; but ZEAL m THE CAUSE OF CHRIST. 165 the Holy Spirit has come down, has wrought upon us — has shown us the plague of our own hearts— and from the death within wo can the better argue the dcatli whiclx exists around. And that this is the actual con- dition of the world. Scripture and experience combine to testify. Tlie Bible, with comprehensive impartiality, concludes all "under sin ;" represents mankind as a seed of evil-doers—" children that are corrupters ;"— sheep that have wandered away from the Shepherd and Bishop of their souls. In tlie adjudication of Scripture there is no exemption from this common character of evil, and from this common exposure to danger. The man of merciful charities, and the woman of abandoned life — the proudest peer, and the vilest serf in his barony — the moralist observer of the decalogue, and the man-slayer, red with blood, all are comprehended in the broad and largo denunciation: "Yo were by nature children of wrath, even as others." And out in the broad world, wherever the observant eye travels, you have abundant confirmation of the testimony of Scripture. You have it in your own history. Tlie transgressions and sins which constitute this moral death abound in our age no less than in any former age of mankind. Tliere arc thousands around you who revel in undisguised corrup- tion. There are thousands more externally reputable who have only a name to live. You have this confirm- ation in the nations of the Continent — some safely bound by the superstition of ages ; others subsiding into a re- actionary skepticism. You have this confirmation 1G6 ZEAL IN THK CAUSE OF CDBIST. further away in tlic countries which own Mohammedan rule, and cherish the Mohammedan's dream- where you have unbridled lust, and a tiger's thirst for blood. You have this confirmation in the far-off regions of heathen- ism proper, where the nature, bad in itself, is made a thousand-fold worse by its religion-where the man is the prey of every error, and the heart the slave of every cruelty— where men live in destruction, and where men die in despair. Travel where you will, visit the most distant regions, and search nnder the shadow of the hi-hesi civilization-penetrate into the depths of those primeval forests, into whose original darkness you might have imagined the curse would hardly penetrate, and the result is uniformly the same. Death is everywhere. You see it, indeed, in all its varieties; now in the rare and fading beauty which it wears just after the spirit has fled from the clay, when its repose seems the worn- out casket, which the sonl has broken, and thrown away ; now, when there is shed over it a hue of the sublime, and it is carried amid tears to burial; and now, when corruption has begun its work, and its ill odor aftccts . the neighborhood, and spreads the pestilence— you see it in all its varieties, but uniformly death is there. We gather from our melancholy pilgrimage no vestige of spiritual life. Mourners go about the streets, and there are mourners over many tombs. Although, as we have observed just now, a thorough and realizing estimate of the world's condition comes only when the judgment is enlightened from on high, tc hi I'i rn ir ri m P< h ai bi ci of ei ai tu Pl m re es th 111 qi b£ CO it. V OOBIST. 5I1 own Mohammedan n's dream— where you thirst for blood. You >ff regions of heathen- id in itself, is made a 3n — where the man is cart the slave of every action, and where men ou will, visit the most ier the shadow of the ato the depths of those nal darkness you might L hardly penetrate, and Death is everywhere, ■ieties ; now in the rare irs just after the spirit repose seems the wom- oken, and thrown away ; t a hue of the sublime, burial ; and now, when and its ill odor aftccts the pestilence — ^you see nly death is there. "We ilgrimage no vestige of )ut the streets, and there • ed just now, a thorough world's condition comes ilightened from on high, ZEAL IN THK CAU8K OF CHRIST. 167 the wise men of the world, the minds that have iu all ages towered above their follows, have felt an unsutisfac- torlness for which they could hardly account; they Jiave liad a vague and morbid conscioufncss that all was not right somehow, cither with themselves or with their race; they have met with disturbing forces, signs of irregularity, tokens of misery and of sin that hare rufllcd, Bomcwliat, the philosophic evenness of their minds. Each in his own way, and from his own stand- point, has guessed at the solution of the probleiii, and has been ready witli a suggested remedy. The j^eoples are imbruted ; educate them. The nations are bar- barous; civilize them. Men grovel in Bciisual pleasure; cultivate the aesthetic faculty; open Tip to them galleries of pictures ; bring them under the humanizing influ- ences of art. Men groan in bondage ; emancipate them, and bid them be free ! Such are some of the tumul- tuous cries that have arisen from earnest but blind philanthropists, who have ignored the spiritual part of man's nature, and forgotten altogether the Godw'ard relations of his soul. All these, as might have been expected, valuable enough as auxiliaries, worth some- thing to promote the growth and comfort of a man when life has been once imparted, fail, absolutely fail to quicken the unconscious dead. In all cases the bed has been shorter than that a man could lie on it, and the covering narrower than that he could wrap himself in it. The inbred death lay too deep for such supei-ficial alchemy; corpses cannot by any possibility animate 108 ZKAL IN TUE 0AD8K OF CHKI8T. r corpses ; and the compassionate bystander from other worlds, sickened with the many inventions, xnight be constrained to cry, "Amid all this tumult of the human, O for something Divine 1" And the Divine is given- Christ has died for all men. There is hope for the Avorld's life. This is a death whereby we live ; this is a remedy commensurate with existing need, and intended entirely to terminate and extinguish that need. That squalid savage, whose creed is a perpetual terror, and whoso life is a perpetual war— Christ hath died for him. That fettered and despairing slave, into whose soul the iron has entered, valued by his base oppressor about on a par with the cattle he tends, or with the soil he digs— Christ hath died for him. That dark blasphemer, who lives in familiar crime, whose tongue is set on fire of hell, whose expatriation would be hailed by the neighborhood around him as a boon of chiefest value— Christ has died for him. That dark recluse, whom an awakened conscience harasses, and who, in the vain hope of achieving merit by suffering, wastes himself Avith vigilant penance well-nigh to the grave— Christ has died for him. Oh, tell these tidings to the world, and it will live. Prophesy of this name in the motionless valley, and the Divine Spirit who always waits to do honor to Jesus, will send the afflatm from the four winds of heaven, and they shall leap into life to his praise. Now take these two points. Think, in the first place, of the condition of the world— a condition so disastrous, t V V r b e o o u h bi w el a fa BO el oi in Y li< A] 8tS i.xuSitfVAK^sas ■«-