LIBRARY OF THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY 
 
 PRINCETON, N. J. 
 
 BV 4501 .S83 1892 
 italker, James, 1848-1927. 
 The four men and other 
 chapters ^ 
 

THE FOUR MEN 
 
WORKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
 THE PREACHER AND HIS MODELS. The Yale 
 Lectures on Preaching, 1891. Sixth Thousand. Crown 
 Svo, cloth, ss. 
 
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,^.1 OP m*}o^^ 
 
 ..": R 1936 
 
 THE FOUR MEN 
 
 ANl> OTHER CHAPTERS 
 
 BY THE REV. 
 
 JAMES STALKER, D.D. 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 'the life of JESUS CHRIST," " THE LIFE OF ST. PAUL," ETC. 
 
 SEVENTH THOUSAND 
 
 HODDER AND STOUGHTON 
 
 27 PATERNOSTER ROW 
 
Printed by HazeU, Watson (3= Viney, Ltd., London and Ayksiury. 
 
a. nx 
 
PREFACE 
 
 \ XT' HEN I was in America last year, 
 delivering the Yale Lectures on 
 Preaching, I preached " The Four Men " on 
 Sunday morning, April 12th. in the chapel 
 of Yale University. Mr. D. L. Moody, 
 the evangelist, who chanced to be present, 
 insisted on its being printed, and he sent 
 copies, I believe, to all the students of 
 the University. In the same irresistible 
 way, he got me to publish " Tempta- 
 tion " and " Conscience," which were given 
 as talks to the students in his own insti- 
 tutions at Northfield. As these are cir- 
 culating in America, I have thought they 
 might be acceptable and useful in this country 
 
viii PREFA CE. 
 
 also. Of the other chapters, those on "Christ 
 and the Wants of Humanity " and " Public 
 Spirit " were delivered in the University 
 Chapel, Glasgow, at the academic service, 
 March 15th. 1891, and March 13th. 1S92, 
 respectively. 
 
 The way in which this book has come 
 together has precluded any attempt at 
 systematic teaching. My sole endeavour 
 has been to handle a few important themes 
 of faith and conduct in a way that may be 
 found instructive and readable by young 
 men. 
 
 Glasgow, 
 October 2)^d. 1S92. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 I. THE FOUR MEN I 
 
 II. TEMPTATION 29 
 
 III. CONSCIENCE ...... 59 
 
 IV. THE RELIGION FOR TO-DAY . . -83 
 V. CHRIST AND THE WANTS OF HUMANITY I09 
 
 VI, PUBLIC SPIRIT 127 
 
 VII. THE EVIDENCES OF RELIGION . -151 
 VIII. YOUTH AND AGE 1 77 
 
THE FOUR MEN 
 
" With me it is a very small thing that i should 
 
 BE JUDGED OF YOU OR OF MAN's JUDGMENT ; YEA, I JUDGE 
 NOT MINE OWN SELF ; FOR I KNOW NOTHING AGAINST MYSELF ; 
 YET AM I NOT HEREBY JUSTIFIED ; BUT HE THAT JUDGETH ME 
 
 IS THE Lord." — i Cor. iv. 3, 4. {Revised Version.) 
 
 [^Noie. — The apostle says that there are four judgments 
 which he is exposed to : first, that of his friends — "judged 
 of you ; " secondly, that of the world — " or of man's judg- 
 ment ; " thirdly, his own judgment — " I judge not mine own 
 self;" and, fourthly, God's judgment — "He that judgeth 
 me is the Lord." 
 
 And he tells us what estimate he puts on these several 
 judgments. For the first two he cares little — " With me it 
 is a very small thing that I should be judged of you or of 
 man's judgment." He means to say that he falls back on 
 his own judgment. Yet no, this is not his meaning — 
 "Yea, I judge not mine own self; for I know nothing 
 against mj'self; yet am I not hereby justified." The 
 decisive verdict is a higher one— "He that judgeth me is 
 the Lord."] 
 
I 
 
 I. 
 
 THE FOUR MEN. 
 
 T might be said that in every man there 
 are four men : 
 
 First, there is the man the world sees. 
 
 The world looks at each of us and sees 
 a certain image of us. It observes single 
 actions of ours and watches our courses of 
 action, and gradually makes up its mind 
 about our character and conduct as a whole. 
 It takes in a general impression of what we 
 are, and gives it expression in a brief judg- 
 ment on us. Is it not singular to reflect, 
 that in the town in which we live or 
 the neighbourhood where we are known 
 there is in circulation a general popular 
 opinion about everyone of us .'* It is usually 
 3 
 
THE FOUR MEN. 
 
 condensed into very terse terms, such as, 
 He is a good man, or, He is a bad man ; 
 He is an excellent, able, generous fellow, 
 or, He is a small, narrow-minded creature ; 
 He is good-hearted, but there is nothing in 
 him, or. He is very clever, but he knows 
 it. Few of us are perhaps aware of the exact 
 phrase in which the mental photograph which 
 the public has taken of us is passed from 
 hand to hand ; and, for our peace of mind, 
 it may in some cases be just as well. But 
 there is no doubt that it exists ; and this 
 is the first man in each of us — the man the 
 world sees. 
 
 Secondly, there is the man seen by the 
 person tvho k>iows him best. 
 
 This may be quite a different man from 
 the man the world sees ; for every man has 
 two sides — one to face the world with, and 
 one to show to the friend of his heart 
 
THE FOUR MEN. 5 
 
 I once had a friend. The popular opinion 
 about him was that he was very quiet and 
 rather dull, without ideas, or experience, or 
 character of his own. Such was the man 
 the world saw. But the man I saw was 
 quite a different being — a man of the most 
 genial humour, who could break into con- 
 versation the most lively and discursive or 
 the most serious and profound, with a mind 
 richly stored with unusual knowledge, a 
 fertile imagination, and a moral nature 
 which had passed through all the great 
 experiences of the human soul and all the 
 peculiar experiences of our new time. 
 
 This is not a singular case. There is no 
 one that is another's nearest and dearest 
 who does not sometimes say. The man I 
 know is very different from the man the 
 world knows ; people think they know him ; 
 but there are heights and depths of which 
 they have no suspicion. Some men, owing 
 
THE FOUR MEN. 
 
 to a shy and self-suppressing temperament, 
 are scarcely known to the public at all. 
 They cannot permit themselves to show any 
 feeling, and all their movements in the eyes 
 of others are invincibly awkward. People 
 therefore think them cold and unfeeling. 
 Yet this may be a complete mistake. The 
 most intense and passionate nature may be 
 ice-like or iron-like outside. 
 
 There is an old myth of the Greek religion 
 which illustrates this. Luna, the goddess 
 of the moon, is said to have loved a mortal 
 man. As she sailed across the sky at night 
 in her silver beauty, she looked down at him 
 as at other mortals, and he looked up at 
 her as other mortals did. But, when mid- 
 night was past and the world was asleep, 
 he still watched and looked up at her alone ; 
 and then she turned to him that side of 
 her refulgent orb which is always turned 
 away from the world, and disclosed such 
 
THE FOUR MEN. 
 
 dazzling splendours as mortal eye had never 
 seen before. 
 
 Thus does friend do to friend. Friend 
 can say to friend, 
 
 There's the world's side of yon ; 
 Thus they see you, praise you, think they know you. 
 There, too, I stand sometimes with them and praise you. 
 But the best is when I glide from out them, 
 Cross a step or two of dubious twilight, 
 Come out on the other side — the novel. 
 Silent, silver lights and darks undreamt of. 
 Where I hush and bless myself with silence. 
 
 But is this second man better than the 
 first } Let us hope, generally so. Surely most 
 men appear bigger, better, more generous and 
 tender to the one person who knows them 
 best than to the outside world. Surely most 
 of us have someone who would passionately 
 say. He is a truer man, and his life is a truer 
 life, than the public is aware. Yet it is not 
 always so. Oh the wretched man who is 
 more thought of in public than he is at 
 
THE FOUR MEN. 
 
 home : whose friend knows that the brilliant 
 qualities for which he has a reputation in 
 public are mere tinsel and trickery ; whose 
 wife and family know that the sanctity for 
 which he gets credit is mere hypocrisy ! I 
 fear many a house has such a skeleton in 
 the cupboard. He who is a model of cour- 
 tesy in public may be a tyrant at home ; or 
 those who know him best may be acquainted 
 with concealed habits of his life and dark 
 passages of his history which would ruin 
 him if they came to the public ear. 
 
 Thirdly, there is the man seen by himself. 
 
 This is a very different man from either 
 the first or the second. The man I know 
 myself to be is by no means the same as 
 that seen by the world, or even that seen by 
 my closest friend. 
 
 For one thing, each man knows his own 
 history far better than it can be known by 
 
THE FOUR MEN. 
 
 anyone else. The public see a few of a 
 man's deeds and hear a few of his words ; 
 and a bosom friend is acquainted with a few 
 more. But the whole current of his actions 
 from the beginning, the stream of his words, 
 the whole torrent of his thoughts and feel- 
 ings, no eye can see but his own. 
 
 Again, who knows the motives of a man's 
 actions except himself.? Have you never 
 been ashamed to receive praise for a deed, 
 supposed to be generous or pious, which you 
 yourself knew to have sprung from a selfish 
 root } And, on the other hand, who has 
 not had his conduct ascribed sometimes to 
 dark or petty motives, which, he is conscious, 
 have never had a place in his heart } 
 
 The truth is, there is amazingly little of 
 our inmost life which comes out in even 
 the closest intercourse. The poet can never 
 put on paper the most exquisite of the 
 melodies which have suns' themselves within 
 
lo THE FOUR MEN. 
 
 him, and he looks in despair on the few 
 tame and tuneless lines which are all he can 
 recover of the fiery and winged conceptions 
 of his imagination. The orator in his most 
 successful hour only feebly bodies forth the 
 thoughts which have almost burst the walls 
 of his soul in secret, and which he has de- 
 sired to shout to all the winds of heaven. 
 The most heavenly madonnas of Raphael 
 and the most lurid scenes of Rubens were 
 only faint copies of the pictures of the artists' 
 daydreams. Who that has ever learned to 
 think at all has not sometimes been visited 
 with swift glimpses and momentary intuitions 
 of truth which he would attempt in vain to 
 communicate to others .? The very brightest 
 things of the fancy and the profoundest 
 things of the intellect, the last intensity of 
 love and the most exquisite sensitiveness of 
 pity, the most momentous decisions of the 
 will and the darkest things ot conscience 
 
THE FOUR MEN. ii 
 
 belong entirely to an inner and secret world 
 of self-knowledge, with which no stranger, or 
 even friend, intermeddleth. 
 
 But is this third man a better or a worse 
 than the first and second ? Well, I think, 
 he is both. 
 
 In some respects we all, perhaps, know 
 ourselves to be better than we are supposed 
 to be. As I have said, there are bright 
 visitations in the mind which you could not 
 communicate to another if you tried. Then, 
 there are some of the best things which you 
 dare not speak of; humility, for example, 
 spoken of is humility no more. What reli- 
 gious man can fully describe the tragic 
 moments when his soul lies prostrate and 
 penitent before God, or the golden moments 
 when he is closest to the Saviour ? Such 
 things are soiled by fingering. Besides, in all 
 highly toned minds there is a modesty about 
 explanations ; and even in the frankest 
 
12 THE FOUR MEN. 
 
 friendship there is many a word, many an 
 act, which we know is misinterpreted to our 
 disadvantage, but which we cannot explain. 
 
 But even the worst have, perhaps, more 
 good in them than would be believed. There 
 are wholesome bits in the most abandoned 
 soul ; there are sparks smouldering in the 
 heap of ashes. Sometimes the outcast is 
 visited with memories of innocence ; some- 
 times his demoralised will attempts to rise ; 
 sometimes he weeps a few tears, hastily 
 brushed away, for the lost past ; sometimes 
 he does a kind act which he would be 
 ashamed to show. 
 
 Yes, all men know themselves to be, in 
 some respects, better than they are supposed 
 to be. But do we not also know ourselves 
 to be worse 1 What do you say — not with 
 the tongue with which you would speak to 
 another, but with that voice with which the 
 soul speaks to itself ? Have you never said 
 
THE FOUR MEN. 13 
 
 to yourself, If people only knew me as I 
 know myself, they would scorn me ; if my 
 friend knew me as I really am, he would be 
 my friend no more ? Away back in your 
 life, are there not hours about which you 
 neither could, would nor should speak ? Is 
 there ever a day but there pass through your 
 mind thoughts of pettiness and vanity, move- 
 ments of covetousness, envy and pride, per- 
 haps dark doubts and blasphemies ? Have 
 you no secret habits and sinful inclinations 
 and desires which dare not see the light ? 
 We are both better and worse thaii others 
 think. But on the whole, when the two sides 
 are weighed against each other, to which does 
 the balance incline ? Am I taking a gloomy 
 view of human nature if I say, that every- 
 one of us is miserably self-condemned ? 
 
 Fourthly, there is the man whom God sees. 
 This man is very different from the third. 
 
14 THE FOUR MEN. 
 
 God knows us far better than we know our- 
 selves. I said a little ago, that everyone 
 remembers the whole of his own history 
 from the beginning. But this is hardly 
 correct. We forget much. It is only under 
 God's eye that the whole of our past life, 
 inward and outward, in all its unbroken 
 concatenation, lies naked and open. He 
 forgets nothing. 
 
 But, besides, He knows the state of our 
 hearts to the bottom, and this no man knows 
 about himself God not only knows all the 
 good and evil we have done, but all we 
 are capable of doing. Some of those now 
 hearing me will, before this time next year, 
 do things which, if whispered to them now, 
 would call forth the angry retort. Is thy 
 servant a dog, that he should do this thing ? 
 On the other hand, there are those who 
 will, within a year, perform acts of heroic 
 faith and love which they would not now 
 
THE FOUR MEN. 15 
 
 believe, though a man should show them 
 unto them. We never know what is in us, 
 or what manner of men we are, till the trial 
 comes. The circumstances of our lot, the 
 restraints of home and the habits of the 
 society in which we move, produce virtues in 
 us which are utterly destitute of root. Many 
 a one, of the fairest fame and promise in his 
 native place, has no suspicion how shallow 
 his character is, till he finds himself in new 
 circumstances, with restraint removed and 
 temptation strong, when his goodness decays 
 like Jonah's gourd and there is a rush of 
 vicious growths from the soil of the heart. 
 
 Still another thing which makes the man 
 God sees different from the man we see is 
 that we are prejudiced in our own favour, 
 but He is quite impartial. I have been 
 taking it for granted that each of the men 
 in us that I have described is truer to the 
 reality than the preceding one. And, on 
 
1 6 THE FOUR MEN. 
 
 the whole, this is correct. Yet not always : 
 the public may sometimes judge a man more 
 truly than his friends, because the latter are 
 too partial. And who can have any doubt 
 that his friends see defects in his character 
 to which he is himself completely blind .-* 
 Our self-conceit will sometimes even make 
 us proud of qualities for which we are the 
 pity and laughing-stock of all who know 
 us. Thus is our own judgment of ourselves 
 distorted by prejudice ; but God judges us 
 impartially. I have no doubt that He sees a 
 great deal of good in us which we have never 
 seen in ourselves. Sometimes, when a man 
 is humbled in the dust and bitterly con- 
 demning himself as vile and worthless, God 
 looks upon that hour of penitence as the 
 flower and glory of his life. 
 
 Yes, in some respects, God sees in each 
 of us a better man than human eyes may 
 ever have seen ; but does He not also see 
 
THE FOUR MEN. 17 
 
 a far worse ? What say you ? Sometimes 
 I have stood on the brink and looked down 
 into the dark abyss of my own nature, till 
 I reeled back dizzy and horrified. Yet I 
 know that I have never once seen to the 
 bottom. But He sees everything, and He 
 sees it always. " Brethren, if our heart con- 
 demn us, God is greater than our heart and 
 knoweth all things." 
 
 I have been trying to lead you a little 
 down into the depths of self-knowledge ; 
 but, if you come a little farther into our 
 text, it will take us still deeper into the 
 mystery. Each of us comes under these 
 four judgments ; but now, what do we think 
 of them } Which of them are we most 
 concerned about ? 
 
 There are three ways of regarding them, 
 which I may call the Shallow Way, the 
 Manly Way, and the Apostolic Way. 
 
i8 THE FOUR MEN. 
 
 I. TJie Shallow Way. 
 
 A shallow man is deeply anxious about 
 how he looks in the eyes of other men, but 
 little concerned about how he looks in his 
 own eyes or in God's. 
 
 I do not say that we ought to be indiffer- 
 ent about what our friends or the public 
 think of us. Nobody but a fool would say 
 that ; for there are few things more precious 
 than a good name and the esteem of friends ; 
 and the world has prompt and painful means 
 of bringing anyone to his senses who affects 
 to neglect its judgment. 
 
 But I do say, that he is a shallow man 
 who is more anxious about what he seems 
 to others than about what he knows himself 
 to be. There are writers who, if their books 
 are popular, do not care though they know 
 them to be the fruit of superficial knowledge 
 and insufficient labour. There are workmen 
 who are satisfied if their handiwork can pass 
 
THE FOUR MEN. 19 
 
 for what it pretends to be, though they know 
 themselves that it is only a pretence. And 
 there are plenty of spiritual workmen of the 
 same sort. Do we never pass lightly over 
 our secret sins because we think we are 
 certain that they will never come to the 
 knowledge of others t When a great sin 
 becomes known to the public and ruins a 
 man's reputation and prospects, is it, as a 
 rule, for the sin he grieves or for the conse- 
 quences ? 
 
 2. The Manly Way. 
 
 The manly way is to treat lightly the 
 judgments passed on us by others, but to 
 be anxiously and honourably sensitive about 
 the judgments which we are compelled to 
 pass on ourselves. 
 
 This, I say, will produce a manly cha- 
 racter and a noble life. It is not difficult 
 to meet the demands of the world. Its 
 
THE FOUR MEM. 
 
 code of morality is mainly negative ; all it 
 requires of us is to be respectable. But 
 he who keeps a strict watch upon his own 
 spirit and judges his outer and inner life 
 conscientiously and intelligently must make 
 heavy demands upon himself. 
 
 He who does so will not need to care 
 very much what others think of him. True 
 worth will shine out sooner or later. He 
 may give offence sometimes and be occa- 
 sionally misunderstood ; but he has only to 
 wait a little and stand his ground. He is 
 not like the miserable slave of conventionality, 
 who has constantly to be resorting to mean 
 expedients to hide his defects and make his 
 tinsel look like gold. The workman who 
 cannot bear to let his work out of his hands 
 as long as his own eye can detect a flaw 
 in it will not have to wait long to see it 
 appreciated by others. 
 
 There are few feelings more satisfying 
 
THE FOUR MEN. 31 
 
 than amidst public depreciation and obloquy 
 to fall back on one's own sense of pure 
 motives and right conduct. This, however, 
 is a comparatively easy thing to do ; it is a 
 far rarer manliness to acknowledge the faults 
 which one's own eye can detect, even when 
 others are applauding, and to pass through 
 all the drama of moral feeling which the 
 conscientious review of our conduct ought 
 to excite, whether others know anything 
 about it or not. This is an experience un- 
 known to the shallow man ; it is the manly 
 way. 
 
 Yet I will show you a more excellent 
 way — 
 
 3. The Apostolic Way. 
 
 This is the way of St. Paul : " With me 
 it is a very small thing that I should be 
 judged of you or of man's judgment ; yea, 
 I judge not mine own self; for I know 
 
22 THE FOUR MEN. 
 
 nothing against myself; yet am I not hereby 
 justified ; but He that judgeth me is the 
 Lord." I have heard of a young musical 
 composer who was bringing out his first 
 great composition. As the successive 
 members of the mighty theme were evolved, 
 the house rang with uncontrollable applause ; 
 and, as he stood above the orchestra, hearing 
 his ideas interpreted by perfect executants 
 and feeling the force of his genius pass into 
 the souls of his fellowmen, irrepressible 
 emotion began to swell in his breast. Yet 
 all the time he kept his eye fixed on one 
 spot in the audience, where sat a master 
 of his art much greater than himself; and 
 his heart trembled more at the slightest 
 movement of the master's features than at 
 all the thunders of the crowd. 
 
 This is the way to live. After man's 
 judgment and our own judgment, there is 
 another far more august — the judgment of 
 
THE FOUR MEN. 23 
 
 God. It is only the recollection of this 
 which will keep the manliest mind from be- 
 coming proud and pharisaical. As, at night, 
 I pass the day's work under review, I can 
 see much to blame ; but, when I pass it on 
 to God's hands, I know that His eye will 
 detect a thousand faults where mine has 
 noticed one. And, when I think of having 
 to meet all my past life again, and hear His 
 judgment on it from the great white throne, 
 I know that I have nothing to depend on 
 but His infinite mercy and the precious 
 blood of His Son Jesus Christ, which cleans- 
 eth us from all sin. 
 
 I said before, that I was trying to lead 
 you into the mystery of self-knowledge ; and 
 we have since penetrated into it a little 
 farther. But let us try, before closing, to 
 get to the very centre. These are prac- 
 tical truths, and they are little worth unless 
 
24 THE FOUR MEN. 
 
 they lead to action. Let me show you 
 in a couple of instances how they can be 
 used to solve the deep questions of the 
 soul. 
 
 There is surely no more solemn question 
 which a man can ask himself than this, Am 
 I as yet a Christian in deed and in truth } 
 Now, about this there will be four opinions 
 — the opinion of the world, the opinion of 
 friends, your own opinion, and the judgment 
 of God. There is, first, the opinion of the 
 world. We know what this is likely to be. 
 We know how wide and how vague its 
 opinion is about what makes a Christian. 
 The name is a mere title of courtesy, which 
 everyone may claim. Then, secondly, there 
 is the opinion of your friends. What is 
 their opinion t It may be a mere echo of 
 the opinion of the world ; or it may be 
 at the other extreme : they may refuse you 
 the name, unless you are able to pronounce 
 
THE FOUR MEN. 25 
 
 the shibboleth of some narrow coterie. 
 Thirdly, what is your own opinion ? Fourthly, 
 what, as far as you can make it out from His 
 Word, is the judgment of God ? 
 
 And now, which of these opinions are you 
 going by ? Are you satisfied if you simply 
 come up to the world's estimate and can 
 pass muster in its rough judgment ? We 
 are hard ridden by conventionalism in most 
 departments of life ; but surely a man is lost 
 altogether if he allows conventionalism to 
 come into this holy of holies of his person- 
 ality. Oh shallow, shallow the man who, 
 on this question of destiny, is satisfied with 
 any judgment except that which he has 
 anxiously and deliberately arrived at in the 
 presence of God ! 
 
 The other question which I would suggest 
 to you to try by the method of our text is 
 not less important. Suppose any man feels 
 that the secret answer given in his soul to 
 
26 THE FOUR MEN. 
 
 the first question must be in the negative, 
 then this other question arises, Ought I to 
 become a Christian in deed and in truth ? 
 And on this also there are four judgments. 
 The first is that of the world ; and what is 
 it ? We all know. The world laughs at the 
 suggestion : You a Christian, at your age ! 
 it is absurd ! enjoy yourself ; you can begin 
 to think of religion when you are too old 
 to think of anything else. Then, secondly, 
 there is the opinion of your friends. What 
 is it .'' An echo perhaps of the world's. 
 Perhaps you even know that you would 
 have to endure bitter persecution, if in a 
 real or earnest sense you became a Christ- 
 ian. Or perhaps it is the other way : 
 perhaps you well know that this is the daily 
 wish and prayer of all the hearts which truly 
 love you. Then, thirdly, there is your own 
 judgment. What is it ? What are all the 
 sane, great and sacred voices within you 
 
THE FOUR MEN. 27 
 
 saying on the point ? And, fourthly, you 
 know what is God's judgment. 
 
 Now, which of these judgments are you 
 to go by ? Is the voice of the world to 
 prevail, or will you rise up in the strength 
 of a man and say, In God's name I walk 
 henceforth only in the way in which all the 
 sacred things I know, within and without, 
 are constraining me to go ; from this hour 
 I am Christ's, wholly Christ's, and Christ's 
 forever ? 
 
TEMPTATION 
 
 29 
 
"Lead us not into temptation." — Matt. vi. 13. 
 
 30 
 
II. 
 
 TEMPTATION. 
 
 /^NCE, when I was going to address a 
 gathering of young men, I asked a 
 friend on what topic I should speak. " Oh," 
 said he, " there is only one subject worth 
 speaking to young men about, and that is 
 temptation." 
 
 Of course he did not mean this literally ; 
 he only intended to emphasize the impor- 
 tance of this subject. Was he not right? 
 You remember, in the story of the Garden 
 of Eden, where the tree stood which repre- 
 sented temptation. It was in the midst 
 of the garden — at the point where all the 
 walks converged, where Adam and Eve had 
 to pass it continually. This is a parable 
 31 
 
32 TEMPTATION. 
 
 of human life. We are out of Paradise 
 now, but the tree of temptation still stands 
 where it stood then — in the midst ; where 
 all the roads meet ; where we must pass 
 it every day — and every man's weal or woe 
 depends on the attitude towards it which 
 he takes up. 
 
 There are six attitudes in any of which 
 we may stand to temptation. First, we may 
 be tempted ; secondly, we may have fallen 
 before temptation ; thirdly, we may be 
 tempting others ; fourthly, we may be suc- 
 cessfully resisting temptation ; fifthly, we 
 may have outlived temptation ; sixthly, we 
 may be assisting others to overcome their 
 temptations. 
 
 As I should like these six attitudes to 
 be remembered, let me give them names ; 
 and these I shall borrow from the politics of 
 the Continent. Any of you who may glance 
 occasionally into the politics of France or 
 
TEMPTATION. 33 
 
 Germany will be aware that in their legis- 
 lative assemblies there prevails a more 
 minute division into parties or groups, as 
 they are called, than we are accustomed to. 
 In our politics we are content with two great 
 historical parties, the Conservative and the 
 Liberal. At least we used to be ; I do 
 not exactly know how many parties there 
 are now ; but I had better not enter into 
 that investigation. On the Continent, at all 
 events, as I have said, the subdivision is 
 more extreme than with us. You read of 
 the Group of the Left-centre, the Group 
 of the Left, the Group of the Extreme-left, 
 the Group of the Right-centre, the Group of 
 the Right, and the Group of the Extreme- 
 right. I do not pretend that even these are 
 all, but let us take these as the six names 
 we need for characterizing the six attitudes 
 in which men may stand to temptation. 
 On the left there are three — first, the 
 
 3 
 
34 TEMPTATION. 
 
 Left- centre, by which group I mean those 
 who are being tempted ; secondly, the Group 
 of the Left, by which are meant those who 
 have fallen before temptation ; thirdly, the 
 Group of the Extreme-left, those, namely, 
 who are tempters of others. And on the 
 right there are three groups — the fourth, 
 that of the Right-centre, containing those 
 who are successfully resisting temptation ; the 
 fifth, the Group of the Right, or those who 
 have outlived their temptations ; and the 
 sixth and last, the Group of the Extreme- 
 right, containing those who are helping others 
 to resist their temptations. 
 
 Let us run rapidly over these six groups. 
 
 I. Tlie Group of the Left-centre, or those 
 ivho are being tempted. 
 
 The reason why I begin with this one is 
 because we have all been in it. Whether 
 we have been in the other groups or not, we 
 
TEMPTATION. 35 
 
 have all been in this one : we have all been 
 tempted. One of the first things which we 
 were told, when we were quite young, was 
 that we should be tempted — that we should 
 have to beware of evil companions — and 
 there is not one of us in whose case this 
 prediction has not come true. 
 
 There is, indeed, no greater mystery in 
 providence than the unequal proportion in 
 which temptation is distributed among dif- 
 ferent individuals. Some are comparatively 
 little tempted ; others are thrown into a fiery 
 furnace of it, seven times heated. There are 
 in the world sheltered situations, in which a 
 man may be compared to a ship in the har- 
 bour, where the waves may sometimes heave 
 a little, but a real storm never comes ; there 
 are others, where a man may be compared 
 to the vessel which has to sail the high seas 
 and face the full force of the tempest. 
 Many of you must know well what this 
 
36 TEMPTATION. 
 
 means. Perhaps you know it so well that 
 you feel inclined to say to me, Preacher, you 
 know little about it : if you had to live 
 where we live — if you had to associate with 
 the companions with whom we have to 
 work and hear the kind of language to 
 which we have to listen — you would know 
 better the truth of what you are saying. 
 Do not be too sure of that. Perhaps I 
 know as well about it as you. Perhaps my 
 library is as dangerous a place for me as 
 the market-place or the workshop is for 
 you. Solitude has its temptations as well as 
 society. St. Anthony of Egypt, before his 
 conversion, was a gay and fast young man of 
 Alexandria, and, when he was converted, he 
 found the temptations of the city so intoler- 
 able that he fled to the desert and became a 
 hermit ; but he afterwards confessed that in 
 a cell in the wilderness he had encountered 
 worse temptations than those of the city. It 
 
TEMPTATION. 37 
 
 would not be safe to exchange our tempta- 
 tions with one another ; everyone has his own. 
 
 Probably, too, each has his own tempter 
 or temptress. Every man on his journey 
 through life encounters someone who de- 
 liberately tries to ruin him. Have you 
 met your tempter yet } Perhaps he is 
 sitting by your side just now. Perhaps it 
 is someone in whose society you delight 
 and of whose acquaintance you are proud ; 
 but the day may come when you will 
 curse the hour in which you ever beheld 
 his face. Some of us, looking back, can 
 remember well who our tempter was ; and 
 we tremble yet in every limb sometimes, 
 as we remember how nearly we were over 
 the precipice. 
 
 One of the principal powers of tempta- 
 tion is that of surprise. It comes when 
 you are not looking for it ; it comes from 
 the person and from the quarter you least 
 
38 TEMPTATION. 
 
 suspect. Almost unawares we stumble upon 
 the occasion which is for us the hour of 
 destiny, and we know not that it is for our 
 life. 
 
 II. The Group of the Left, or those who 
 have fallen before temptation. 
 
 Though I do not know this audience, I 
 know human nature well enough to be 
 certain that there are some hearing me 
 who are whispering sadly in their hearts, 
 This is the group I belong to ; I have fallen 
 before temptation ; it may not be known, 
 it may not even be suspected, but it is 
 true ; sin has got the better of me, and I 
 am in its power. 
 
 To such I come with a message of hope. 
 
 The great tempter of men has two devices 
 with which he plies us at two different 
 stages. Before we have fallen, he tells 
 us that one fall does not matter : it is a 
 
TEMPTATION. 39 
 
 trifle ; why should we not know the taste of 
 the forbidden fruit ? we can easily recover 
 ourselves again. After we have fallen, on 
 the contrary, he tells us that it is hopeless : 
 we are given over to sin, and need not 
 attempt to rise. 
 
 Both are false. 
 
 It is a terrible falsehood to say that to 
 fall does not matter. Even by one fall 
 there is something lost that can never be 
 recovered. It is like the breaking of an 
 infinitely precious vessel, which may be 
 mended, but will never be again as if it 
 had not been broken. And, besides, one 
 fall leads to others ; it is like going upon 
 very slippery ice — even in the attempt to 
 rise you are carried away again. Moreover, 
 we give others a hold over us. If we have 
 not sinned alone, to have sinned once 
 involves a tacit pledge that we will sin 
 again ; and it is often almost impossible to 
 
4o TEMPTATION. 
 
 get out of such a false position. God keep 
 us from believing that to fall once does not 
 matter ! 
 
 But then, if we have fallen, our enemy 
 plies us with the other argument : It is of 
 no use to attempt to rise ; you cannot over- 
 come your besetting sin. But this is falser 
 still. To those who feel themselves fallen 
 I come, in Christ's name, to say, Yes, you 
 may rise. If we could ascend to heaven 
 to-day and scan the ranks of the blessed, 
 should we not find multitudes among them 
 who were once sunk low as man can fall .-' 
 But they are washed, they are justified, 
 they are sanctified, in the name of the 
 Lord Jesus and by the Spirit of our God. 
 And so may you be. 
 
 It is, I know, a doctrine which may be 
 abused ; but I will not scruple to preach 
 it to those who are fallen and sighing for 
 deliverance. St. Augustine says that we 
 
TEMPTATION. 41 
 
 may, out of our dead sins, make stepping- 
 stones to rise to the heights of perfection. 
 What did he mean by that ? He meant 
 that the memory of our falls may breed in 
 us such a humility, such a distrust of self, 
 such a constant clinging to Christ as we 
 could never have had without the experience 
 of our own weakness. 
 
 Does not the Scripture itself go even 
 further ? David fell deep as man can fall ; 
 but what does he say in that great fifty-first 
 Psalm, in which he confesses his sin } 
 Anticipating forgiveness, he sings, 
 
 " Then will I teach Thy ways unto 
 Those that transgressors be, 
 And those that sinners are shall then 
 Be turned unto Thee." 
 
 And what did our Lord Himself say to 
 St. Peter about his fall ? " When thou art 
 converted, strengthen thy brethren." A man 
 may derive strength to give to others even 
 
42 TEMPTATION. 
 
 from having fallen. He may have a sym- 
 pathy with the erring ; he may be able to 
 point out the steps by which to rise ; as 
 others cannot do. Thus, by the marvellous 
 grace of God, whose glory it is out of evil 
 still to bring forth more good, out of the 
 eater may come forth meat, and out of the 
 strong may come forth sweetness. 
 
 III. TJie Group of the Extreme-left, or 
 those zvlio are tempters of others. 
 
 These three groups on the left form three 
 stages of a natural descent. First, tempted ; 
 secondly, fallen ; then, if we have fallen, we 
 tempt others to fall. 
 
 This is quite natural. If we are down 
 ourselves, we try to get others down beside 
 us ; there is a satisfaction in it. To a soul 
 that has become black a soul that is still 
 white is an offence. It is said of some, 
 " They sleep not except they have done mis- 
 
TEMPTATION. 43 
 
 chief, and their sleep is taken away, unless 
 they cause some to fall." There is nothing 
 else, perhaps, in human nature so diabolical as 
 this delight of the wicked in making others 
 like themselves. Have you never seen it ? 
 Have you never seen a group of evildoers 
 deliberately set themselves to ruin a new- 
 comer, scoffing at his innocence and enticing 
 him to their orgies ? And, when they suc- 
 ceeded, they rejoiced over his fall, as if they 
 had won a great triumph. So low can 
 human nature sink ! 
 
 Sometimes it may be self-interest that 
 makes a man a tempter. The sin of another 
 may be necessary to secure some end of his 
 own. The dishonest merchant, for his own 
 gain, undermines the honesty of his appren- 
 tice ; the employer, making haste to be rich, 
 tempts his employees to break the Sabbath ; 
 the tyrannical landlord forces his tenants to 
 vote against their consciences. Why, there 
 
44 TEMPTATION. 
 
 are trades which flourish on other people's 
 sins. 
 
 But perhaps the commonest way to be- 
 come a tempter is through thoughtlessness. 
 I protest, we have no ruth for each other's 
 souls. We trample about amongst these 
 most brittle and infinitely precious things 
 as if they were common ware ; and we 
 tempt and ruin one another without even 
 being aware of it. Perhaps, indeed, no one 
 goes down to the place of woe alone ; 
 everyone who goes there takes at least 
 another with him. I hear it said nowadays 
 that the fear of hell no longer moves men's 
 minds ; or at least that preachers ought no 
 longer to make use of it as a motive in 
 religion. Well, I confess; I fear it myself ; 
 it is a motive still to me. But I will tell 
 you what I fear ten times more. It is to 
 meet there anyone who will say, You have 
 brought me here ; you were my tempter ; 
 
TEMPTATION. 45 
 
 but for you I might never have come to 
 this place of torment. God forbid that we 
 should ever hear such an accusation as that ! 
 
 It is a pleasure to turn away from this for- 
 bidding side of our subject and look at the 
 bright side — at the three groups on the right. 
 
 IV. The Group of the Right-centre^ or those 
 who are successfully resisting temptation. 
 
 Not very long ago a letter chanced to 
 come under my eye which had been written 
 by a young man attending one of the great 
 English universities. One day two or three 
 fellow-students burst into his rooms and 
 asked him to join them in an amusement 
 of a questionable kind. On the spur of the 
 moment he promised ; but, when they had 
 gone, he began to think what his parents 
 would say if they knew. It was a godly 
 home he belonged to, and a very happy one, 
 
46 TEMPTATION. 
 
 in which the children kept no secrets from 
 their parents. He thought of his home, and 
 he had doubts whether what he had promised 
 to do might not cause pain there. He was 
 afraid it would, and he promptly and 
 frankly went and told his companions that 
 his engagement was off till he should inquire. 
 The letter I saw was the inquiry. I confess 
 it was not easy to read it without emotion, 
 for one could understand how much manli- 
 ness was required to do that which might 
 easily be interpreted as unmanly. 
 
 The memory of that man's home came to 
 him in the hour of temptation, and made 
 him strong to resist. I wonder this influence 
 does not prove a rescuing power oftener than 
 it does. Young men, when you are tempted, 
 think of home. I have been a minister 
 in a provincial town, and, I think, if you 
 could realise the effect produced by the 
 news coming from the city of a son fallen 
 
TEMPTATION. 47 
 
 and disgraced — if you could realise the 
 mother's terror, and the father's stricken 
 frame, and the silent, tearful circle, as I have 
 seen them — it would make you fling the cup 
 of temptation from your lips, however 
 delirious was the hour and however persuasive 
 was the hand that proffered it. 
 
 Yet this will not always be a sufficient 
 motive in the struggle. There will come 
 times when you are tempted to great sin 
 which will appear to you absolutely safe 
 from discovery and not likely to inflict the 
 slightest injury on your fortunes. In such 
 circumstances nothing will avail if you have 
 not learned to respect your own nature and 
 to stand in awe of your own conscience. 
 Nay, even this is not enough ; the only effec- 
 tive defence is that of one who was sorely 
 tempted in this very way, " How can I do 
 this great wickedness and sin against God ? " 
 
 There are secret battles fought and 
 
48 TEMPTATION. 
 
 won on this ground never heard of on 
 earth, but essentially more glorious than 
 many victories which are trumpeted far 
 and wide by the breath of fame. There 
 is more of courage and manhood needed 
 for them than for walking up to the cannon's 
 mouth. Walking up to the cannon's mouth! 
 Many a soldier could do that who could 
 not say No to two or three companions 
 pressing him to enter the canteen. Not 
 long ago I was speaking to a soldier, who 
 told me that many a time he was the 
 only man to go on his knees to pray out of 
 twenty or thirty in the barrack-room ; and 
 he did it amidst showers of oaths and 
 derision. Do you think walking up to the 
 cannon's mouth would have been difficult to 
 that man } Such victories have no record 
 on earth ; but, be sure of this, they are 
 widely heard of in heaven, and there is One 
 there who will not forget them. 
 
TEMPTATION. 49 
 
 V. TJic Group of the Right, or those tvho 
 have outlived their temptations. 
 
 On this point I do not mean to dwell ; 
 but I should like at least to mention it, as 
 there is contained in it a great encourage- 
 ment to some who may be enduring the 
 very hottest fires of temptation. Perhaps 
 your situation is so intolerable that you 
 often say, I cannot stand this much longer ; 
 if it last as it is, I must fall. 
 
 No, you will not. I bid you take 
 courage ; and, as one encouragement, I 
 have to tell you, that you will yet outlive 
 your temptation. 
 
 That which is a temptation at one 
 period of life may be no temptation at 
 another. To a child there may be an 
 irresistible temptation in a sweetmeat which 
 a man would take a good deal to touch ; 
 and some of the temptations which are now 
 the most painful to you will in time be as 
 
 4 
 
50 TEMPTATION. 
 
 completely outlived. God may lift you, by 
 some turn of providence, out of the position 
 where your temptation lies ; or the person 
 from whom you chiefly suffer may be 
 removed from your neighbourhood. The 
 unholy fire of passion which now you must 
 struggle to keep out of your heart may, 
 through the mercy of God who setteth men 
 in families, be burnt away, and replaced by 
 the holy fire of love, burning on the altar 
 of a virtuous home. The laughter and scorn 
 which you have now to bear for your 
 Christian profession will, if you only have 
 patience, be changed into respect and vener- 
 ation ; for even the ungodly are forced at 
 last to do honour to a consistent life. 
 
 In these and other ways, if you only 
 have patience, you will outlive temptation ; 
 though I do not suppose we shall ever in 
 this world be entirely out of its reach, or 
 be beyond the need of these two admo- 
 
Temptation. 51 
 
 nitions : " Watch and pray, that ye enter 
 not into temptation " and, " Let him 
 that thinketh he standeth take heed lest 
 he fall." 
 
 VI. The Group of the Extreme-right, or 
 those zvho are assisting others to overcome 
 temptation. 
 
 You see, on the right there is an up- 
 ward progress, as on the left there is a 
 downward one. The first step is to be 
 successfully resisting temptation ; a higher 
 one is to have outlived temptation ; the 
 highest of all is to be helping others to 
 resist it. I do not say, however, that this 
 must be the chronological order ; it is the 
 order of honour. This group of the Ex- 
 treme-right is the exact opposite of the 
 group of the Extreme-left. Those in the 
 latter group are tempting others to fall ; 
 those in this one are encouraging and aiding 
 
$2 TEMPTATION. 
 
 others to stand fast. No man ought to be 
 satisfied till he is in this noble group. 
 
 There are many ways in which we may 
 assist others with their temptations. A 
 big-hearted man will often be doing so 
 even without being aware of it. His very 
 presence, his attractive manhood and his 
 massive character act as an encouragement 
 to younger men, and hold them up. I do 
 not know anything so much to be coveted 
 as in old age to have men coming to say, 
 Your example, your presence and sympathy 
 were like a protecting arm put round my 
 stumbling youth, and helped me over the 
 perilous years. If a few can honestly say 
 this to us in distant years, will it not be 
 better far than Greek and Roman fame ? 
 
 Many are helping the young against 
 their temptations by providing them with 
 means of spending their leisure innocently 
 and profitably. Our leisure-time is the 
 
TEMPTATION. 53 
 
 problem. Whilst we are at work, there is 
 not so much fear of us ; but it is in the 
 hours of leisure, the hours between work 
 and sleep, that temptation finds men, and 
 they are lost. Therefore one of the noblest 
 tasks of Christian philanthropy is to provide 
 the young with opportunities of spending 
 their leisure profitably. 
 
 But by far the best way to help men 
 with their temptations is to bring them to 
 Christ. It may be of some service to a 
 man if in the time of trial I put round 
 him the sympathetic arm of a brother ; but 
 it is infinitely better if I can get him to 
 allow Christ to encircle him with His 
 strong arm. This is the efTectual defence, 
 and no other can be really depended on. 
 
 To-day, I am certain, I have been speak- 
 ing to your business and your bosoms. 
 This is not a subject up in the air; it is 
 
54 TEMPTATION. 
 
 our very life. Let me say a final word 
 about how to deal with temptation. 
 
 How are you dealing with your own ? 
 There are two ways, which may be called 
 the Method of Resistance and the Method 
 of Counter Attraction. I have seen them 
 illustrated by two legends of the ancient 
 Greek mythology, and with these I shall 
 close. 
 
 The one legend is told by Homer of 
 Ulysses, the great traveller of those mythical 
 times. Once in his wanderings he came 
 to the spot, on the southern shore of Italy, 
 where the Sirens lived. These were a kind 
 of mermaids, beautiful in person and espe- 
 cially in voice, but malignant in soul. They 
 used to sing on the shore, as ships were 
 passing by, and with their sweet songs 
 allure the mariners to destruction upon the 
 rocks. But Ulysses was a wise and wily 
 traveller and was aware of the danger ; and 
 
'«**J 
 
 TEMPTATION. 55 
 
 he took measures to provide for his safety. 
 Assembling his sailors, he explained the 
 situation, and told them they must pull past 
 the fatal spot for their lives ; then he stuffed 
 their ears with wax, so that they should not 
 hear the dangerous strain. His own ears 
 were not stuffed ; but he made the sailors 
 bind him hand and foot to the mast. In 
 this trim they reached the place. The 
 Sirens saw them, and came out and sang 
 their sweetest. I'he sailors, hearing nothing 
 on account of the wax in their ears, pulled 
 stubbornly on. Ulysses heard, and was so 
 intoxicated that he would have done any- 
 thing to reach the shore ; but, being bound 
 hand and foot, he could do nothing to 
 influence the direction of the ship. And so 
 they rounded a promontory, and the danger 
 was past. 
 
 The other story is about the Argonauts, 
 who were sailing to Pontus in search of 
 
56 TEMPTATION. 
 
 the Golden Fleece, and had also to pass 
 the same dangerous spot. But in their ship 
 they had with them Orpheus, the great poet 
 and singer of those mythical ages. He 
 sang so ravishingly, it was said, that lions 
 and tigers came crouching to his feet, and 
 even rocks and trees followed where he 
 went. And every clay he poured his 
 enchanting strains into the ears of his 
 fellow-voyagers. At length they arrived at 
 the place of peril, and the Sirens, seeing 
 them, came forth and sang their sweetest. 
 But the Argonauts only laughed at them 
 and passed on. How were they able to 
 do so .'' It was because the charm of the 
 inferior music had been broken by that which, 
 was superior. 
 
 These two stories illustrate the two ways 
 of meeting temptation. The one is the 
 method of restraint, when we keep ourselves 
 from sin by main force, as Ul}'s.scs saved 
 
TEMPTATION. 57 
 
 himself from the charm which was drawing 
 him. Of course this is far better than 
 yielding to temptation ; and in many cases 
 It will be the course we must adopt. But 
 the other method is the secret of reliofion. 
 The attraction of temptation is overcome 
 by a counter attraction. The love of Christ 
 in the heart destro}'S the love of sin, and 
 the new song of salvation enables us to 
 despise the siren-song of temptation, and 
 pass it by. That man alone is really safe 
 who, as he sails the seas of life, carries on 
 board the Divine Orpheus, and is daily 
 listening to the music of His wisdom. 
 
CONSCIENCE 
 
 59 
 
"A GOOD CONSCIENCE." — I TlM. i. IQ. 
 
 60 
 
III. 
 
 CONSCIEXCE. 
 
 '^"^ TE divide men according to the intel- 
 lect. We say of this man that he 
 is clever, and of that one that he is stupid ; 
 of one woman that she is brilliant, and of 
 another that she is dull ; and we esteem or 
 disdain them accordingly. But there is a 
 more discriminating distinction. Intellect is 
 not the deepest thing in man : conscience 
 is deeper. The greatest philosopher of 
 modern times — one who knew well what is 
 in man — said, that in the universe there 
 were two things which filled him with awe : 
 one was the starry heaven at night, and the 
 other the conscience in the human breast. 
 
 At the day of judgment, when men will be 
 6x 
 
62 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 separated from one another, that which will 
 determine who are fit to survive as the 
 select of the human race, and who are to be 
 castaway, will not be the possession of 
 intellect, but obedience to conscience. 
 
 I. W/iat Conscience is. 
 
 The conscience is a faculty which dis- 
 charges several important functions ; let us 
 discriminate them carefully, and observe 
 how they supplement each other. 
 
 I. It is a sense iv hereby we distinguish 
 hetiveeu right and zvrong. Just as by the 
 sense of sight we distinguish black from 
 white, and distinguish by the sense of touch 
 what is cold from what is hot, so by this 
 inner sense we distinguish what is right 
 from what is wrong. When we are about 
 to act, we see before us two ways, between 
 which we have to choose. The one is right 
 
CONSCIENCE, 63 
 
 and the other wrong ; and it is conscience 
 that informs us wliich is which. 
 
 2, Conscience is an authority commanding 
 us to choose the right and refuse the ivrong. 
 It not only declares, in the indicative mood, 
 as we stand at the parting of the ways, that 
 this is the right path and that the wrong, 
 but it also tells us, in the imperative mood, 
 to select the one and reject the other. It 
 does so with supreme authority. There 
 may be within us at the same moment other 
 feelings roused by the same objects, and they 
 may urge us to adopt the opposite course to 
 that dictated by conscience ; but, however 
 numerous and loud their voices may be, 
 that of conscience is sovereign above them 
 all. For example, there may be lying 
 before a man's eyes something that awakens 
 in his nature a violent craving. Say, it is 
 the intoxicating cup before a drunkard : 
 
64 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 it is a strong temptation ; it awakens a 
 perfect tempest of desire ; yet above the 
 tumult the still small voice of conscience is 
 heard, and, whether it is obeyed or not, the 
 man knows that he ought to do as it directs. 
 Conscience sits on the throne and bears the 
 sceptre ; and the appetites and passions of 
 the soul are its subjects. They may rebel 
 against its sovereignty ; but, if they do, they 
 know that they are rebels. As Bishop 
 Butler, the classical English writer on this 
 subject, says, " had it strength as it has right, 
 had it power as it has manifest authority, it 
 would absolutely govern the world." 
 
 3. Conscience is a judge, approving and 
 rewarding us if zve do right, and condemning 
 and punishing if we do wrong. Although 
 conscience tells us, as we stand at the 
 parting of the ways, that this is the right 
 path and that the wrong, and commands 
 
CONSCIENCE. 65 
 
 us to choose the one path and avoid 
 the other, it does not follow that in all 
 cases its command is obeyed. It may be ; 
 or, on the contrary, sloth and selfishness 
 may keep us back from doing what con- 
 science is urging, or passion may take 
 possession of us and hurry us along the 
 path which conscience has forbidden. But, 
 as soon as the decision is formed and the 
 step taken one way or the other, conscience 
 immediately performs a third function, either 
 approving us if we have chosen according to 
 its dictate or condemning us if we have not. 
 Nor has it onl}- the power of passing sen- 
 tence, but it forthwith executes it as well, 
 rewarding or punishing as the case may be. 
 
 Who does not know the glow of delight 
 which overspreads the soul when duty has 
 been done ? To take a simple instance : 
 suppose there is a piece of work you have 
 been neglecting — say, the writing of a letter 
 
 5 
 
66 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 to a friend abroad — your conscience has been 
 upbraiding you for the delay ; but from week 
 to week, and month to month, it has been 
 put off for one excuse or another, till it has 
 become a kind of haunting nightmare. At 
 last, however, in obedience to the inward 
 monitor, you take it in hand, stick to it, 
 and finish it. Is there not then an exultant 
 satisfaction as you exclaim. There, it is done 
 at last .'' This is the reward which con- 
 science gives for obedience to its commands. 
 On the other hand, if the wrong decision is 
 come to and the wrong step taken, con- 
 science lashes the soul with the whip of 
 retribution. For a time, indeed, the grati- 
 fication of appetite may so occupy the soul 
 that conscience is forgotten. But its turn 
 comes. Who does not know the sweetness 
 of the cup of sinful gratification and the 
 sting of the adder which fastens on the lip 
 at the dregs ? 
 
CONSCIENCE. 67 
 
 This is a strange and solemn power which 
 conscience wields. In your secret soul you 
 commit a sin : it is a mere passing thought 
 perhaps ; no human eye has seen it, no 
 tongue will ever speak of it ; yet even in the 
 dark it makes you blush ; you are degraded 
 in your own eyes ; you feel guilty and 
 wretched. And this guilty wretchedness 
 does not pass away ; it may at any time 
 revive. Conscience comes to us in lonely 
 hours ; it wakens us in the night ; it stands 
 at the side of the bed and says, Come, wake 
 up and listen to me! And there it holds us 
 with its remorseless eye ; and our buried 
 sins rise out of the grave of the past ; they 
 march by in melancholy procession ; and we 
 lie in terror looking at them. Nobody 
 knows but ourselves. Next morning we go 
 forth to business with a smiling face ; but 
 conscience has had its revenge. 
 
 This punishment is sometimes of the most 
 
68 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 terrible description. It was set forth by 
 the ancients under the figure of three sisters 
 of awful aspect. They were called the 
 Eumenides or Furies. Tall in stature, they 
 were draped in black ; serpents twined in 
 their hair, and blood dropped from their eyes. 
 Their step was noiseless, swift and unre- 
 lenting. They pursued the guilty, especially 
 those who had sinned against the aged or 
 their own parents, and those who had com- 
 mitted perjury or murder. No prayers, no 
 sacrifices, no tears could move them. Cain 
 was fleeing from them, as he wandered like 
 a vagabond over the earth. Herod was 
 hunted by them when, on hearing of the 
 preaching of Jesus, he cried. It is John the 
 Baptist, whom I beheaded, risen from the 
 dead ! Judas, the betrayer, was fleeing from 
 them when he rushed into the jaws of death 
 rather than abide the touch of their fingers. 
 This was what Shakspeare meant when he 
 
CONSCIEiXCE. 69 
 
 made the ghost of Banquo sit at Macbeth's 
 table, and the spectres of those whom 
 Richard III. had murdered defile before 
 him in his tent, on the night before the 
 battle in which he lost his life, and claim 
 revenge. These are extreme cases ; but this 
 pain is one which everyone has felt in his 
 own degree. It is among the secrets known 
 to all. There are hidden chambers in every 
 soul, the keys of which are never given 
 away, and one of these is a torture chamber, 
 where conscience plies its scourge and 
 rack. 
 
 4. Another function of conscience is to 
 pass judgDicnt on tlic conduct of others. When 
 we see our fellowmen acting around us, 
 we cannot help judging whether they are 
 doing right or wrong, and approving or 
 condemning them accordingly ; and they 
 do the same towards us. Here, indeed, the 
 
70 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 judgments of conscience are less reliable, 
 as they are passed upon imperfect informa- 
 tion ; and sometimes it is a stern duty to 
 check them. Yet the judgments passed by 
 others on our conduct are often perfectly just, 
 and they are intended by the Author of our 
 being to play an important part in our 
 moral education. They are meant to stimu- 
 late our own conscience. A friend may be 
 to us a second conscience ; because the 
 thought of his judgment may make us 
 pause to consider how acts will look to him 
 which our own conscience would hardly 
 check. It sometimes happens that a man's 
 own conscience has punished him insuffi- 
 ciently for a hidden sin, or at all events 
 the punishment is past and forgotten ; but 
 by-and-bye his sin is found out; the public 
 conscience condemns him ; and only then 
 is the full guilt of his conduct brought home 
 to himself. This is to be the principle of 
 
CONSCIENCE. 71 
 
 the last judgment. The good deeds and 
 bad deeds for which mortals have been 
 rewarded or punished by conscience in secret 
 are to be made known to a public vast as 
 humanity; and in the mirror of the universal 
 conscience each man is to see the image 
 of his life. 
 
 5, Conscience speaks to lis of the sentence 
 of a still wore august fudge, a)id the aivard 
 of a still higher tribunal. The word Con- 
 science has been supposed by many of the 
 foremost thinkers to mean " knowledge 
 along with another." Who is this other, 
 who knows everything along with ourselves ? 
 It is God. When, for example, you awake 
 in the night, and conscience is dealing with 
 you, are you not aware of another Eye 
 that is surveying the whole interior of your 
 soul, and judging it } Inquire in your own 
 breast, and say if there is anything in the 
 
74 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 world you are surer of than this ? Many 
 regard this as the strongest and most direct 
 proof of the Divine existence. And it 
 proves not only the existence of God, but 
 His character as holy and righteous. Nor 
 will His sentences, thus made known to us, 
 remain without effect. There is no instinct 
 in the soul of man more undeniable than 
 the anticipation of something after death — 
 of a tribunal at which the whole of life will 
 be revised, and retribution awarded with 
 perfect justice. It is this which imparts to 
 death its solemnity. We instinctively know 
 that we are going to our account. And 
 such great natural instincts cannot be false. 
 Thus conscience is an internal mirror in 
 which the image of the eternal world is 
 reflected ; it is a revelation of God Himself; 
 and no more can be needed to show how 
 august a faculty it is, and how careful 
 attention it is entitled to. 
 
Conscience. 73 
 
 II. What a Good Co /i science is. 
 
 All the faculties of man require culti- 
 vation. And that the conscience is no 
 exception to this rule is clearly indicated 
 in the Bible, which speaks of " an evil 
 conscience," designating thereby a condition 
 into which this faculty may sink, if its 
 training is neglected ; while, on the other 
 hand, it speaks of " a good conscience " 
 as something which requires to be earnestly 
 sought and jealously retained. Perhaps I 
 ought to speak both of what an evil con- 
 science is and what a good conscience is. 
 But what an evil conscience is may be 
 sufficiently indicated if I describe the marks 
 of a good conscience. These, I think, are 
 three : — 
 
 I. It is an enligJitened conscience. 
 The prime function of conscience, as we 
 have seen, is to tell us which of two ways of 
 
74 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 acting is right and which wrong. But there 
 has been much debate among philosophers as 
 to whether, in performing this function, it 
 is infaUible. Can it, at the critical point, 
 make mistakes, pronouncing that to be right 
 which is wrong and that to be wrong which 
 is right ? We are bound to follow the 
 guidance of conscience whenever its voice 
 is distinctly heard ; but can this voice 
 mislead ? 
 
 Much may be said on both sides. On 
 the one hand, everyone must feel how high 
 and noble would be a life invariably ruled 
 by conscience. Let any plain man, be he 
 Christian or heathen, go into solitude, and 
 inquire what is his duty in any particular 
 case, with an honest desire to iind it, and 
 will he be mistaken ? The united conscience 
 of the world supports all the most important 
 rules of life. On the other hand, however, 
 there have been whole nations which have 
 
CONSCIENCE. 75 
 
 elevated their favourite crimes into virtues ; 
 as in the ancient world the most advanced 
 peoples considered it a duty to hate their 
 enemies. Saul of Tarsus thought that he 
 ought to do many things contrary to the 
 name of Jesus of Nazareth. Mis-education, 
 self-interest and passion blind the eyes even 
 of conscience. We not unfrequently defend 
 in ourselves acts which we would instantly 
 condemn if we saw them done by others. 
 Low ideals of life make us satisfied when 
 we ought to be aiming higher. The light 
 which is in us may be darkness. 
 
 In short, the conscience requires to be 
 enlightened. God's law is written on it ; 
 but the lettering is like that of an old in- 
 scription, where the words are filled up with 
 moss and mould, so that they are apt to be 
 misread and require to be re-cut. Many 
 means are available for this purpose — all 
 just maxims and observations on life and 
 
76 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 conduct; all high-toned books and discourses ; 
 all living examples of admirable character. 
 But the great educator of conscience is the 
 Word of God, in which, happily for mankind, 
 the law of right conduct is written so clearly 
 that he who runs may read. The Bible, 
 however, is not intended to take the place 
 of conscience, but to make it more service- 
 able. It is like a lamp lit within it, by 
 which the laws which have been inscribed 
 on it by the Divine finger are rendered more 
 legible. 
 
 2. A good conscience is a tender conscience. 
 
 While the first excellence of conscience 
 is to tell accurately which is the right 
 road and which the wrong, it is hardly less 
 necessary to have a conscience which urgently 
 prompts to take the right road, and at once 
 gives warning by the prick of pain when a 
 wrong step is taken. 
 
CONSCIENCE. Tj 
 
 It is too evident that the consciences of 
 all have not this sensitiveness ; for many do 
 wrong without feeling pain. The Scripture 
 speaks of some whose consciences are seared 
 as with a hot iron. As a hot iron, touching 
 the fingertips, would harden the skin, so 
 that the fine sense of touch located there 
 could not act, so may the conscience be 
 seared in such a way that it does not prompt 
 to do the right or inflict pain when ' the 
 wrong is done. It is appalling to what 
 lengths this moral insensibility may go. 
 You will see a young man, after a few years 
 of the sins of the city, breaking his mother's 
 heart and bringing his father's grey hairs 
 down with sorrow to the grave, apparently 
 without a qualm. The hardened debauchee 
 will ruin a fair life and introduce shame 
 and desolation into an honoured home, and 
 then go among his companions and boast of 
 it. But we may all see now and then the 
 
78 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 beginnings of this hardening process in our- 
 selves. Acts which at first we touch with 
 shame and fear we do at last without any 
 inward pain. The conscience is ceasing to 
 perform its functions, and atrophy is setting 
 in. 
 
 What produces such a state ^ It is dis- 
 obedience. If the conscience is constantly 
 called upon to condemn the same sin, which 
 is constantly repeated, it gradually ceases to 
 perform the useless function. If its warnings 
 are neglected, they become less and less 
 distinct, and at last cease altogether. On 
 the contrary, obedience to conscience sharpens 
 it, and makes it a more and more perfect 
 instrument. There are virgin souls which 
 blush in secret at the most transient thought 
 of sins in which others wallow without re- 
 morse. There are men who wince, as high- 
 blooded horses do at the touch of the whip, 
 at the first sound in their hearing: of words 
 
CONSCIENCE. 79 
 
 which in other companies form the staple 
 of conversation. The conscience may be 
 trained to tremble at the least approach of 
 dishonour, as the needle of a perfect compass 
 indicates the least turn of the ship. This 
 is the path to all fineness of character. It 
 gradually elevates the whole man, stamping 
 the aspect of dignity and purity even on 
 the external appearance. A hardened con- 
 science coarsens and brutalises soul and 
 body, but a tender conscience refines both. 
 
 3. A good conscience is a purified con- 
 science. 
 
 When a sin is committed, it makes a 
 stain on the conscience, and the stain burns. 
 This pain is the hint of nature to seek the 
 removal of the sin. But, if it is not taken, 
 the pain in time assuages ; and stain may 
 be added to stain, till the conscience is 
 defiled through and through. 
 
8o CONSCIENCE. 
 
 In such a defiled conscience there are 
 terrible latent possibilities, for the pain may 
 at any time break out again. Sometimes 
 it does so in time — when a man is awakened 
 to a sense of his bad past, and in pain 
 and tears cries out for deliverance from it. 
 Sometimes it is by the sudden apparition 
 of eternity, in which it can perceive nothing 
 but a fearful menace of judgment, that the 
 conscience is aroused. We have reason to 
 believe that the latent pain of unpardoned 
 sin, if it is not felt in time, will break 
 out all the more intolerably beyond the 
 veil. 
 
 Can this defilement be removed ? This 
 surely is the question for every child of 
 Adam ; for what conscience is there which 
 has not been stained with sin ? It is a 
 question which the conscience itself cannot 
 answer. Conscience prescribes our duty 
 and rewards us if we perform it If we 
 
CONSCIENCE. 
 
 fail, it fills us with alarms and forebodings, 
 but it cannot tell how these may be 
 removed. This honour belongs to the 
 Gospel of Christ. Like the law, conscience 
 is a schoolmaster to bring us to Christ. 
 Conscience may be compared to a stern 
 guide, who gives a lantern to a cripple and 
 orders him to go the way which the light 
 reveals on pain of death ; but it has no 
 concern for his pitiful inability to surmount 
 the difficult path. It is Christ who heals 
 the cripple, putting strength into his feet 
 and ankle-bones, so that he walks and 
 leaps and praises God. Yet it is ques- 
 tionable if anyone can appreciate the blood 
 which cleanseth us from all sin who has 
 not felt the shame and pain of a con- 
 science defiled, or if anyone can under- 
 stand the easiness of the yoke of Christ 
 who has not felt his bones broken by the 
 yoke of the law. Though conscience 
 
 6 
 
82 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 does not of itself know the way to re- 
 conciliation, yet it wanders restless and 
 excited till it catches sight of Calvary, 
 when its eye kindles like that of the exile 
 who sees on the horizon the cliffs of his 
 native land ; and, when it reaches the cross, 
 it pitches its tent there forever. 
 
THE RELIGION FOR TO-DAY 
 
 83 
 
"A MAN IN Christ." — 2 Cor. xii. 2. 
 
 84 
 
IV. 
 
 THE RELIGION FOR TO-DAY. 
 
 I ^^IRST, it imist be manly. 
 
 A Christian is defined by St. Paul 
 as "a man in Christ." But, observe, "^ man 
 in Christ " ; put the accent there first. 
 
 This is very peculiarly a demand of the 
 present age. Ours is a democratic age ; and 
 this means that the minds of men are less 
 and less influenced by merely hereditary and 
 official distinctions, and bestow their esteem 
 only where they recognise personal merit. 
 Formerly it was enough if a man was a king 
 or a noble. Now people ask, Is he a kingly 
 man ? Is he himself noble .'' A clergy- 
 man, writing to the clergy, has said: "Not 
 long ago a minister was certain of honour 
 85 
 
86 THE RELIGION FOR TO-DAY. 
 
 because he belonged to the clerical order 
 and wore the clerical garb; as the saying 
 goes, people respected his cloth. But this is 
 rapidly passing away. Respect for ministers 
 who are worthy of the name is not, indeed, 
 passing away ; it was never greater than it is 
 at present. But people no longer respect the 
 cloth, unless there is a man inside it. If a 
 minister is to be loved and revered, he must 
 be able to dispense with all artificial cubits 
 added to his stature and, coming down 
 among men and standing side by side with 
 them on his bare feet, allow his manhood to 
 be compared with theirs." This is a truth 
 which all Christians require to take to heart. 
 Religion of old enveloped itself in mystery 
 and retired behind the walls of the cloister 
 or the convent ; and the ignorant multi- 
 tudes looked up to it, from amidst their sins 
 and sufferings, with traditional reverence. 
 There are countries of Europe in whose 
 
THE RELIGION FOR TO-DAY. 87 
 
 languages to this day " a religious person " 
 means the wearer of an ecclesiastical dress. 
 But religion has in our day been summoned 
 forth into the open. It has to show what 
 it can make of men in the ordinary ways 
 of life. Does it make servants and sub- 
 ordinates more trustworthy .'' Does it make 
 masters and superiors more just and more 
 generous } Does it make merchants more 
 honourable } Does it sweeten the temper, 
 refine the manners, and make the tongue 
 charitable } These arc the tests by which 
 Christianity is tried to-day. 
 
 Some years ago, during a widespread 
 revival of religion, a friend of mine, a 
 minister in Edinburgh, was visited by a 
 young engineer belonging to his congre- 
 gation, who informed him that he had 
 come to religious decision. My friend asked 
 him how it had come about. Had he been 
 attending the revival meetings } No. Had 
 
88 THE RELIGION FOR TO-DAY. 
 
 he been impressed in church ? No, Had any 
 companion been talking to him about the 
 subject ? No. How was it then ? It was 
 the way in which the foreman of the place 
 in which he was employed did his work ; he 
 knew the foreman to be a Christian, and he 
 wished to be a Christian of the same type. 
 
 This is thoroughly characteristic of our 
 age. Does the student who is a Christian 
 wish to impress others for good ? Then let 
 him be the most diligent student in the class 
 and, if possible, occupy the first place in it. 
 This will speak for itself, even if he has 
 nothing else to say ; and, if he gets anything 
 else to say, it will lend weight to every word 
 he utters. The Christian apprentice who 
 wishes to influence others for Christ ought 
 to be the most punctual and obliging in 
 the whole establishment. If a master desires 
 to have religious influence \\\\\\ his employes, 
 it will not be enough to give them good 
 
THE RELIGION FOR TO-DAY. 89 
 
 advice : he must behave so as to make 
 them say they have tlie kindest and best 
 of masters. The way to adorn the gospel 
 of God our Saviour in our day is to exhibit 
 it in combination with a massive manhood 
 or a sweet and gracious womanhood. 
 
 Secondly, it must he brotherly. 
 
 An ancient Roman poet brought down the 
 applause of the entire theatre with the words, 
 Homo sum : Jiumaiii niliil a me alicuum 
 puto — I am a man : nothing that belongs 
 to men is uninteresting to me. He and 
 those who applauded him acknowledged 
 that in manhood, when it is fully developed, 
 brotherhood is included ; and I do not think 
 we can be wrong in stating that when St. 
 Paul called a Christian " a man in Christ," 
 he included this too. We do so ourselves in 
 the common phrase "a man and a brother." 
 
 Ours is, as I have said, a democratic age ; 
 
90 THE RELIGION FOR TO-DAY. 
 
 and it is also a philanthropic age. Indeed, 
 the democratic idea easily expands into the 
 philanthropic one ; for it emphasizes the 
 dignity and the rights of man ; and the rights 
 of one man imply the duty of all other 
 men to treat him as a man and to respect 
 his dignity. 
 
 In past ages the majority of the in- 
 habitants even of civilised countries were in 
 a condition which was utterly inconsistent 
 with their dignity as men ; but the posses- 
 sors of a happier lot were not moved by the 
 spectacle of the degradation around them, 
 because it seemed to them to be the law 
 of nature and the ordinance of God. In 
 our day there are portions of the population 
 existing in conditions where a life worthy 
 of men is almost or altogether impossible : 
 childhood is stunted and crushed ; the bloom 
 of modesty and reverence is rudely rubbed 
 off the mind of youth ; manhood is so 
 
THE RELIGION FOR TO DAY. 91 
 
 surrounded with temptation that it can hardly 
 escape. But the great difference lies in 
 this, that at present there are multitudes 
 of those who have been born in happier 
 circumstances to whom this spectacle is a 
 perpetual pain. They cannot enjoy the 
 comforts and refinements of their own lot 
 for thinking of the sin and misery of those 
 less fortunate than themselves. One of the 
 most brilliant of our younger statesmen 
 recently remarked, that the politics of the 
 present, and still more the politics of the 
 future, are the politics of the poor. We 
 even witness in our day the strange 
 spectacle of an atheistic philanthropy — men 
 and women who do not believe in God 
 or in Christ or in immortality yet pro- 
 claiming that they feel the service of man 
 to be their true vocation and professing 
 themselves to be in all the greater haste to 
 help their suffering fcllow-crcaturcs, because 
 
92 THE RELIGION FOR TO-DAY. 
 
 they believe that they must be made happy 
 in this world or not at all. 
 
 Whether such philanthropy has any real 
 fuel to keep it burning, or is merely the 
 afterglow of Christian sentiment lingering 
 on the icy summits of unbelief, we need not 
 at present stay to inquire ; but it is a sign 
 of the times. And is it not evident that 
 in such a temper of the general mind the 
 Christianity which will tell on the age must 
 be a brotherly Christianity ? 
 
 Christianity is nothing if it is not phil- 
 anthropic. Christ taught the doctrine of 
 human brotherhood and placed it on its true 
 foundation eighteen hundred years before 
 fraternity became the watchword of atheism 
 and revolution. But, if brotherhood be truly 
 the property of Christianity, then the world 
 of to-day demands that it be proved by 
 deeds, and not by words. It demands that 
 those who bear the name ot Christ should 
 
THE RELIGION FOR TO-DAV. 93 
 
 be seen standing back from those customs 
 of society and those practices in trade which 
 grind the faces of the poor and enrich the 
 few out of the vices of the many. It 
 demands that they be seen engaged in an 
 uncompromising struggle with the causes of 
 poverty and misery. A Christianity intent 
 only upon saving its own soul in the repose 
 of luxurious churches, whilst the river of 
 human sin and misery sweeps unregarded 
 past the door, will not impress the present 
 age. The world will not be persuaded that 
 the Church believes her own creed, if, teach- 
 ing what she does about the blessing of 
 possessing Christ and the infinite misery of 
 being separated from Him, she does not 
 exert herself to make Him known to every 
 creature under heaven. 
 
 Thirdly, it must be godly. 
 
 St. Paul's definition of a Christian is " a 
 
94 THE RELIGION FOR TO-DAY. 
 
 man in Christ." We have put the accent 
 first on the first member of the phrase — " a 
 man " — and I have shown that this impHes 
 also that a Christian ought to be a brother 
 of men. But now put the accent on the 
 second member of the phrase — " in Christ." 
 Surely the strongest accent falls here : the 
 thing which distinguishes a Christian from 
 other men is that he is " a man iti 
 Christ." 
 
 I have said of our age that it is demo- 
 cratic and that it is philanthropic : many 
 would, I daresay, add that it is sceptical. I 
 do not say so ; but I say that it is an age 
 which needs a sign. Its religious teachers 
 tell it, that of old God revealed Himself, and 
 spake in miracles and prophecy ; they tell 
 it, that many centuries ago He revealed 
 Himself still more fully in His Son, and that 
 in Jesus of Nazareth God dwelt among men. 
 The arguments are strong which can be 
 
THE RELIGION FOR TO-DAY. 95 
 
 brought forward in proof of these state- 
 ments. But it is long since these things 
 happened, and this age is doubtful of the 
 evidence. Can you not show us God at 
 work in the world of to-day .<* If there be 
 a God, does He work no miracle now } 
 
 What has Christianity to say to such a 
 question .-' If it is intelligent, it seems to 
 me it is bound to answer that God is in the 
 world to-day, and is still a God that doeth 
 wonders. The age of miracles is not past. 
 We profess that supernatural changes have 
 taken place in us, and are taking place in 
 us, by the operation of the Holy Ghost, who 
 works, indeed, through our own will and 
 effort, but is far more than they. For 
 what is it to be " a man in Christ " ? It is 
 to have a life which is fed from no earthly 
 source. It is to be in actual contact with 
 the supernatural. To us Jesus Christ is not 
 dead ; He is not a mere historical figure ; 
 
96 THE RELIGION FOR TO-DAY. 
 
 He is alive ; He is with us ; He is in us 
 and we in Him. 
 
 But, if these things are so, what is there 
 to show for them ? If these forces are at 
 work in us, what arc they effecting ? They 
 ought to produce a ChristHke character. 
 This is what the world is looking for. Nor 
 does it fail to appreciate it when it sees it. 
 There is no power on earth so subduing 
 as genuine goodness. Holiness is a flower 
 which the world well knows it is incapable 
 of producing out of its own soil ; and, when 
 it sees it, it acknowledges that there must 
 be another world to account for it. When 
 all the arguments have failed, the doubting 
 mind yields to the evidence of a saintly life. 
 
 We often hear calls for an aggressive 
 Christianity, which will go forth with irre- 
 sistible energy and conquer the world. But 
 are you sure that this is the way to conquer 
 the world .'' You remember, in the fable, 
 
THE RELIGION FOR TO-DAY. 97 
 
 the contest between the wind and the sun 
 as to which of them would compel the 
 traveller to remove his cloak ? The wind 
 blew and blew, more and more furiously ; 
 yet the traveller only wrapped his garment 
 the more tightly about him ; but he took 
 it off at once when the sun brought to bear 
 on him its gentle and genial force. A 
 competent writer, describing the improve- 
 ment in the manners and morality of 
 England at the close of last century, raises 
 the question to what it was due. In the 
 beginning of last century every sixth house 
 in London was a gin-shop, and gin-drinking 
 infected the population like an epidemic. 
 Dr. Johnson told Boswell, that in his native 
 town of Lichfield every householder went 
 to bed drunk every night, and nobody 
 thought the worse of him. Profane swear- 
 ing was a mark of good breeding. On 
 Sunday the people gathered for cock- 
 
 7 
 
98 THE RELIGION FOR TO-DAY. 
 
 fighting and bull-baiting ; and even the 
 clergy took part in these cruel sports. 
 Before the century closed there was a com- 
 plete revolution in public opinion, and the 
 whole tone of manners was altered. And 
 to what was the change due } These things 
 had not been put down by legislation ; nor 
 did the educated and cultured classes lead 
 the fashion in the direction of better things. 
 No ; but the preaching of Whitfield and 
 Wesley raised up all over England a sprink- 
 ling of converted men and women living the 
 Christlike life. Each of these became a kind 
 of mirror in which the age beheld its own 
 hideousness ; each became a little window 
 through which people saw out beyond their 
 own evil customs to a better time. 
 
 This is what we need — not so much an 
 aggressive as an attractive religion. Men 
 are not at peace ; they are hungry for 
 happiness, and they pursue it over sea and 
 
THE RELIGION FOR TO-DAY. 99 
 
 land, but they have not found it. If in 
 every Christian they beheld a soul manifestly 
 at peace with itself, filled with a joy un- 
 speakable which betrayed that it had found 
 the secret of life, we should not need to 
 preach to them and plead with them so 
 much : they would come flocking of their 
 own accord like doves to their windows. 
 
CHRIST AND THE WANTS OF HUMANITY 
 
" But of Him are ye in Christ Jesus, who of God is 
 made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sancti- 
 fication, and redemption." — i cor. i. 3o. 
 
V. 
 
 CHRIST AND THE WANTS OF HUMANITY 
 
 T REMEMBER hearing a naturalist de- 
 scribe a species of jelly-fish, which, he 
 said, lives fixed to a rock, from which it 
 never stirs. It does not require to go in 
 search of food, because in the decayed 
 tissues of its own organism there grows a 
 kind of seaweed, on which it subsists. I 
 thought I had never heard of any creature 
 so comfortable. But the naturalist who was 
 describing it went on to say that it is one 
 of the very lowest forms ot animal life, and 
 the extreme comfort which it enjoys is the 
 very badge of its degraded position. As 
 you rise in the scale of life, you come upon 
 103 
 
104 CHRIST AND WANTS OF HUMANITY. 
 
 animals with multiplying wants ; and it may 
 be laid down as a general rule that, the 
 nobler any form of animal life is, the more 
 complex will its wants be found to be. 
 
 This interesting law of natural history 
 applies to human life also. A savage has 
 very few wants. Compare his kit, if he 
 requires to make a journey, with the 
 innumerable articles which have to be packed, 
 in all sorts of receptacles, when you mov3 
 from home. Compare the simple life of 
 an African kraal with the arrangements for 
 the police, the water-supply, the food-supply, 
 the post-office, the telegraph system of one 
 of our cities. It may be laid down as a 
 general rule, to which, however, there may 
 be exceptions, that the progress of civilisa- 
 tion has for its badge the multiplication of 
 wants. 
 
 But this law extends further : it holds 
 good in the spiritual sphere. If you go 
 
CHRIST AND WANTS OF HUMANITY. 105 
 
 back and trace the history of human nature 
 in its higher types, you will discover that 
 this has been the principle of ascent. In 
 the ancient world three races stand out, 
 head and shoulders, above their neighbours 
 — the Greek, the Roman, and the Hebrew ; 
 and, if you go deep enough in the study 
 of their history, you will discover that each 
 of them felt some want of human nature 
 as it had never been felt before, and taught 
 the nations to feel it likewise ; and this was 
 its contribution to the progress of the world. 
 And now the position to which any individual 
 rises in the scale of humanity depends on 
 the reproduction of these catholic wants 
 in his experience, and the intensity with 
 which he feels them. A man may live and 
 die without feeling them, and he may be 
 all the more comfortable on this account ; 
 but his comfort is hke that of the jelly-fish 
 ■ — it is the badge of degradation. 
 
io6 CHRIST AND WANTS OF HUMANITY. 
 
 It is the glory of Christianity to be inti- 
 mately associated with these deep catholic 
 wants of the soul : it is the divine provision 
 for their satisfaction. This is precisely what 
 is meant when it is said in our text that 
 Christ is made of God unto us wisdom, 
 and righteousness, and sanctification, and 
 redemption ; because each of these four 
 things answers to a profound need of human 
 nature. 
 
 Wisdom. — Perhaps St. Paul mentioned 
 this first because he was writing to Greeks. 
 Our text occurs in the First Epistle to the 
 Corinthians, and the Corinthians were Greeks 
 with the outstanding features of their race 
 strongly marked in their character and life. 
 One of these was the passion for knowledge. 
 
 This is a part of human nature, but it 
 does not speak out in all races or in all 
 individuals. It is curious how little savages 
 
CHRIST AND WANTS OF HUMANITY. 107 
 
 care to know. Some of them cannot count 
 up as far as ten. They do not know the 
 people Hving on the other side of the 
 mountains which girdle their valley. They 
 do not inquire whence the rivers come which 
 fertilise their fields, or whither they flow. 
 They reap a little corn from the soil, but 
 do not suspect the mineral wealth which 
 may lie beneath the surface. They go on 
 from generation to generation doing the 
 same things over and over again, and the 
 grandson is no wiser than his grandfather. 
 Intellectual curiosity has not been stirred 
 in them ; it is there, but it is latent. 
 
 In Greece, however, this latent capacity 
 broke out as a great excitement and longing, 
 which went on increasing from century to 
 century. The Greeks sent out travellers on 
 every hand, who gathered the most com- 
 prehensive acquaintance with the lands, the 
 peoples, the habits and customs of the world 
 
lo8 CHRIST AND WANTS OF HUMANITY. 
 
 in which they lived. They made amazing 
 progress in ascertaining the natural history 
 of plants and animals. They noted with 
 keen eyes the positions and movements of 
 the heavenly bodies. This thirst grew ever 
 deeper. Men of vast intellectual reach rose 
 among them, and carried inquiry forward 
 into still more important regions. The 
 knowledge of matter led on to the knowledge 
 of mind ; the pursuit of knowledge deepened 
 into the pursuit of wisdom. Socrates, the 
 wisest of them all, told his fellowcountry- 
 men that the knowledge of the stars was 
 far less important than the knowledge of 
 their own souls. What is man .-' In his 
 short life what is he meant to do "> What 
 is the prize which, if won, makes life a 
 success, and which, if lost, makes life a 
 failure "i Who is the man of men, whom 
 all should strive to be like .-' 
 
 Such were the questions on which the 
 
CHRIST AND WANTS OF HUMANITY. 109 
 
 Greeks, under the guidance of their sages, 
 whetted their intellects. They strove hard 
 to find the answers to them, but the greatest 
 of them only called themselves philosophers 
 — that is, lovers or seekers of wisdom, not 
 its possessors. An irresistible impulse sus- 
 tained them in the search, and even the 
 search was ennobling ; but they knew that 
 they had not found. 
 
 In the fulness of time St. Paul was sent 
 to the representatives of this eager and 
 active- minded race, and he was able to 
 announce to them that he had found what 
 they were seeking — " Jesus Christ," he said, 
 " is made unto us wisdom." They had 
 been inquiring what human life would be 
 like, if it were absolutely fair and good — 
 what were the lineaments and what the 
 figure ot manhood at its best. Ecce Homo, 
 answered the Apostle, holding up before their 
 eyes the image of his Master. 
 
no CHRIST AND WANTS OF HUMANITY. 
 
 The consciousness of this want, which was 
 first fully awakened in the land of Greece, 
 will never again disappear from the human 
 soul. None can rise to a high stature of 
 manhood who has not felt it. At the 
 present day it is the ruling passion of 
 tens of thousands, to whom What is truth } 
 seems to be the most important question 
 which can be asked. Through the obscure 
 woods of ignorance eager pioneers are clear- 
 ing pathways on every hand, and knowledge 
 of all kinds is multiplying to unmanageable 
 proportions. Perhaps, however, amidst our 
 accumulations, we are not out of need of 
 the advice which Socrates addressed to his 
 contemporaries — to return from the confines 
 of creation home to their own souls. Where 
 there is much knowledge there may be 
 little wisdom. What is man > What is life .? 
 These are still the supreme questions, and 
 no one can graduate into the ranks of the 
 
CHRIST AND WANTS OF HUMANITY, iii 
 
 higher manhood who has not asked them 
 with absorbing interest. And what are the 
 answers ? Is there any answer under the 
 sun Hke this — Behold the man Christ Jesus, 
 that is what manhood ought to be ; Behold 
 the Hfe of Christ, that is what human Hfe 
 should be ? 
 
 Righteousness. — If St, Paul had the Greek 
 element of the Christian Church in his eye 
 when he said, " Christ is made unto us 
 wisdom," he may have had in his eye the 
 Roman element when he said, " Christ is 
 made of God unto us righteousness." There 
 was, no doubt, such an element there ; 
 for Corinth, though a Greek city, was at 
 that time ruled by the Romans, whose 
 soldiers fortified its citadel and paraded its 
 streets. Besides, it was a favourite resort 
 of Romans, whether bent on business or 
 pleasure. 
 
112 CHRIST AND WANTS OF HUMANITY. 
 
 Now, if the Greeks were the people of 
 knowledge, the Romans were as distinctly the 
 people of righteousness or justice. They had 
 conquered the world. Originally a small tribe 
 confined within a narrow domain on the 
 banks of the Tiber, they gradually spread 
 their conquests south and north, east and 
 west, till these included the whole known 
 world. They obliterated the boundaries 
 between country and country by bringing 
 them all under a common sway. They found 
 the nations living at continual war with one 
 another ; but they reduced them to peace 
 by taking the arms out of their hands, and 
 compelled them to submit their conflicting 
 claims to a new arbitrament. This was the 
 arbitrament of law. The Romans were 
 not only the conquerors, but also the law- 
 givers of the world. Wherever the irresis- 
 tible tread of their legions opened up the 
 way, their tribunals of justice followed, and 
 
CHRIST AND WANTS OF HUMANITY. 113 
 
 their legal system is still the foundation of 
 all modern codes of jurisprudence. 
 
 It was an immense problem which the 
 Romans thus opened up — the relation of 
 man to man and of nation to nation. But 
 it cannot be said to have been solved by 
 them. Justice has two sides : on the one 
 hand, there is what you owe to me ; on 
 the other, there is what I owe to you. 
 About the former I may be very keen, while 
 I am still very negligent of the latter. 
 There is a justice which compels you to 
 give me my due ; but this is very different 
 from the justice which impels me to wish 
 to give you yours. The Roman justice was 
 of the coarser type. While compelling 
 others to do right, the Roman himself was 
 selfish and hard-hearted ; the proudest day 
 of his life was when he ascended in triumph 
 to the Capitol with captive kings bound to 
 his chariot ; and in the arena he butchered 
 
 8 
 
114 CHRIST AND WANTS OF HUMANITY. 
 
 the conquered in hundreds to make a 
 holiday. He had not discovered the secret 
 of justice. 
 
 But St. Paul had discovered it. This 
 was why he was not ashamed of the Gospel, 
 but ready to preach it to those at Rome 
 also. He knew that he brought the very 
 thing that Rome needed. What was it } 
 It was love. Christ is righteousness, be- 
 cause Christ is love. Is not this the Gospel 
 still for every age, and for our age ? Is 
 not this still the question of the day — the 
 relation of man to man and of nation to 
 nation — how to put an end to war ; how 
 to disarm the so-called Christian nations, 
 which confront each other armed to the 
 teeth ; how to reconcile the bitterness 
 between class and class, between capital 
 and labour ; how to melt your hard heart 
 and mine, my reader, so that, instead of 
 taking our brother by the throat with " Pay 
 
Christ and wants of humanity. 115 
 
 me that thou owest," we shall be chiefly 
 anxious about paying him that which we 
 owe — the debt of fair dealing-, of sympathy 
 and helpfulness ? And what other answer 
 to this question has the world yet discovered 
 which can be compared with Christ's golden 
 rule and His spirit of benevolence ? 
 
 Sanctijication. — Besides Greeks and 
 Romans there was a third clement in the 
 Church of Corinth. In that age the Jews 
 were scattered everywhere in pursuit of gain, 
 just as they are in all centres of trade and 
 commerce at the present day. In every 
 city which he entered St. Paul found them ; 
 to them he always first offered the Gospel ; 
 and the Jewish converts formed the nucleus 
 of the membership in all his churches. If 
 it is reasonable to think that he had the 
 Greeks in his eye when he said, Christ is 
 our wisdom, and the Romans when he said, 
 
ii6 CHRIST AND WANTS OF HUMANITY. 
 
 Christ is our righteousness, it is quite as 
 likely that he had the Jews specially in 
 view when he said, " Christ is made of God 
 unto us sanctification." 
 
 The Jew had an even more unique and 
 important part to play in the evolution of 
 the history of man than the two other elect 
 races of the ancient world. He did not 
 possess the intellectual gifts of the Greek. . 
 He had no art to speak of, and he had no 
 philosophy till a late date, when he borrowed 
 it from the Greeks. Nor had he the con- 
 quering instincts of the Roman. He often, 
 indeed, dreamed of conquest and world- 
 wide sway ; but he was too timid and too 
 much attached to the narrow land of his 
 birth to realise his dreams. But his genius 
 took a more difficult and far nobler flight. 
 In him the want of God first asserted itself 
 with all its force. "As the hart panteth 
 after the waterbrooks, so panteth my soul 
 
CHRIST AND WANTS OF HUMANITY. 117 
 
 after Thee, O God ; " " O God, Thou art 
 my God ; early will I seek Thee ; my soul 
 thirsteth for Thee, my soul longeth for Thee 
 in a dry and thirsty land " — these are not 
 only the utterances of individual psalmists, 
 but the voice of the nation. The Jew as- 
 pired to walk with God; the highest blessed- 
 ness he could think of was to be a saint. 
 
 It was only another side of the same 
 state of mind when in the Jew there was 
 developed the sense of distance from God 
 and unworthiness to walk with Him. The 
 Jew felt in the very marrow of his bones 
 that he was a sinner. While intellect 
 developed all its powers in the Greek race, 
 conscience first unfolded all its powers in 
 the Jewish — its majestic authority in com- 
 manding and forbidding, its vigour in con- 
 demning, the awful scourge of terror and 
 remorse with which it chastises the soul 
 that sinneth. 
 
Ii8 CHRIST AND WANTS OF HUMANITY. 
 
 The Jew's question was, How can I be 
 rid of my sin ? How can I be just with 
 God ? But, as the greatest of the Greeks 
 confessed that they were not possessors, but 
 only lovers, of wisdom, so the greatest of 
 the Jews confessed that their longing for 
 purity and peace was never satisfied. They 
 sought it by trying to keep the Law fully ; 
 but the ideal mocked their efforts, being too 
 high for them. They sought satisfaction in 
 the rites of sacrifice and attempted with 
 rivers of blood to quench the thirst which 
 was parching their souls. But the blood of 
 bulls and of goats could not take away sin. 
 
 The Gospel of Christ answered this long- 
 drawn, passionate cry of centuries, when it 
 said, " Behold the Lamb of God, which 
 taketh away the sin of the world." St. 
 Paul, had sounded all the depths of this 
 longing of his race ; but his efforts only 
 ended in the cry of despair, " Oh wretched 
 
CHRIST AND WANTS OF HUMANITY. 119 
 
 man that I am, who shall deliver me from 
 the body of this death ? " till the secret of 
 the Gospel was revealed to him, when he 
 sprang to his feet, emancipated and strong, 
 with the cry on his lips, " Thanks be unto 
 God, through Jesus Christ our Lord ; " and, 
 ever after, it was his mission to make known 
 that " He hath made Him to be sin for us, 
 who knew no sin, that we might be made 
 the righteousness of God in Him." 
 
 This want which the Jew discovered is as 
 native to the human soul as that discovered 
 by the Greek or the Roman. It is, indeed, 
 the soul's deepest and most sacred need. 
 Many may never have felt it, but, till it is 
 felt, the highest position which is accessible 
 to manhood cannot be reached. In earth 
 or heaven there is nothing so august, so 
 elevating, so beautiful as holiness. And the 
 way to holiness lies through the valley of 
 humiliation for a guilty life and past the 
 
I20 CHRIST AND WANTS OF HUMANITY. 
 
 cross of Calvary. The friendship of Jesus 
 is the guarantee of sanctity : " He is made 
 unto us sanctification." 
 
 Redemption. — We are moving among 
 the deep things of human nature : these 
 three cravings are among the most august 
 qualities it possesses. But there is a fourth 
 worthy to be put side by side with them — 
 the craving for immortality. 
 
 That death does not end all — that the 
 grave is not the goal of humanity, but only 
 the gateway to a new existence of vaster 
 range — this is surely the greatest discovery 
 that the annals of the world record. Is 
 it a discovery, or is faith in immortality 
 universal ? This is a question which has 
 been much discussed. The truth I believe 
 to be this : the longing for immortality is, 
 like the thirst for knowledge or any other 
 of the supreme wants mentioned above, 
 
CHRIST AND WANTS OF HUMANITY. 121 
 
 native to human nature ; but it docs not 
 follow that in all ages or in all countries 
 it must have been keenly felt. An instinct 
 may be native to the soul and yet long be 
 latent ; we can tell in what age, for example, 
 and among what race the passion for wisdom 
 first arose. It is not so easy to tell where 
 the longing for immortality first decisively 
 asserted itself. It does not seem, however, 
 to have been in any of the three historical 
 peoples of antiquity already mentioned — 
 the Greeks, the Romans, or the Hebrews. 
 Historians speak rather of Egypt and Persia 
 — two countries lying on the dim borderland 
 between the bright circle of civilisation and 
 the surrounding continents of darkness — 
 as the places where man first came to full 
 consciousness of this demand of his nature. 
 But, having once asserted itself, the sense 
 of this want can never die out of the human 
 soul. Now and then, indeed, men may be 
 
122 CHRIST AND WANTS OF HUMANITY. 
 
 heard speaking as if mankind might give up 
 this hope and be perfectly content to die as 
 a dog dieth. In the same way, last century, 
 Rousseau and others advocated a return to a 
 state of nature, in which there should be no 
 more curiosity for knowledge or passion for 
 wisdom than in the minds of savages. It 
 is just as unlikely that the passion for im- 
 mortality will die out of the minds of men 
 as that the intellectual thirst which first 
 grew keen in Greece will disappear and 
 trouble men no more. And the calamity, 
 if it were possible, would be an even more 
 degrading one. 
 
 It requires, indeed, special experiences 
 thoroughly to evoke this longing. It may 
 be evoked by the sense of the inequalities 
 of this life, which a more perfect world is 
 needed to redress. There was one portion 
 of St. Paul's audience on whom this would 
 tell. I have spoken of his hearers as Greeks, 
 
CHRIST AND WANTS OF HUMANITY. 123 
 
 Romans and Hebrews ; but more numerous 
 than any of these classes were the slaves, 
 of whom there were four hundred thousand 
 in the city of Corinth. To these there was 
 hardly any outlet from degradation in this 
 life, but they would eagerly grasp at the 
 promise of redcTiption in the next. Perhaps 
 no one can now feel the passion for immor- 
 tality fully who has not known what it is to 
 love intensely — to love wisdom, or to love 
 moral perfection, or to love another heart. 
 It is as your whole being goes out to an 
 ideal object that it becomes intolerable to 
 think that death is to interpose and end the 
 development which has promised to be so 
 vast, but has only commenced. Sometimes 
 it is while standing by a death-bed, on which 
 lies one whose physical frame is worn to a 
 shadow and on the verge of dissolution, but 
 whose mind, instead of decaying with the 
 body, seems only to be disengaging itself 
 
124 CHRIST AND WANTS OF HUMANITY. 
 
 from obstructions and beginning to expatiate 
 in its native strength, that one is pierced 
 with the conviction that the spirit does not 
 die with the body. But perhaps the most 
 authentic intimation we receive of immortality 
 is from conscience — it is that dread of some- 
 thing after death which accompanies the 
 commission of crime, and gathers round the 
 soul, as, on the eve of dissolution, it looks 
 back to the unpardoned sins of a lifetime. 
 In that dread hour men know that they 
 have not done with their sins yet, but will 
 have to face them again beyond the veil. 
 
 Thus immortality is not only a great 
 hope, but also a great terror. We passion- 
 ately long for it, and yet, at the same 
 time, we recoil from it in guilty fear. Who 
 can reconcile this contradiction } Here is 
 the answer : " Christ is made unto us re- 
 demption." He is both our redemption 
 from death and our redemption from sin in 
 
CHRIST AND WANTS OF HUMANITY. 125 
 
 one. In Him the great hope of immortality 
 receives its justification, and in Him the 
 great terror is transmuted into immortal joy. 
 
 Is not this a gloriously human Gospel ? 
 It meets us in our utmost straits, and de- 
 livers us. Have you not observed that it is 
 in your best, your most thoughtful, your 
 sanest moments, that the Gospel seems 
 truest to you .'' If you have ever been 
 really wise, really sane, really a man, that 
 was the time when you were nearest accept- 
 ing Christ. It is in superficial and shallow 
 moods, when the soul is blinded with the 
 glare of the world and satisfying itself with 
 vulgar prizes, that Christ appears unreal and 
 unnecessary. Know yourself and you will 
 know Him. 
 
 Yet, on the other hand, how gloriously 
 divine this Gospel is ! By a single gift 
 God has given all that human nature desires. 
 
126 CHRIST AND WANTS OF HUMANITY. 
 
 He has given us Christ, and there is not a 
 deep want which Christ does not satisfy. 
 In the name of all to whom He is precious, 
 let me commend Him to you. " Oh taste 
 and see that He is good ; who trusts in 
 Him is blest." 
 
PUBLIC S P I ]U T 
 
 127 
 
" If thou altogether holdest thy peace at this time, 
 
 THEN shall there ENLARGEMENT AND DELIVERANCE ARISE 
 
 TO THE Jews from another place; but thou and thy 
 
 father's house SHALL BE DESTROYED : AND WHO KNOWETH 
 WHETHER THOU ART COME TO THE KINGDOM FOR SUCH A TIME 
 
 AS THIS ? " — Esther iv. 14. 
 
 1 28 
 
VI. 
 
 PUBLIC SPIRIT. 
 
 '' \ "^HE book of Esther is not, I should 
 think, one that is much read, although 
 the story it tells is of great interest. 
 
 It belongs to that period of Biblical 
 history when the Jews, in exile from their 
 own land, were scattered over the countries 
 of the far East ; and the particular spot 
 in which the plot of the book is laid is 
 Shushan, the capital of the kingdom of 
 Persia. 
 
 Esther was an orphan Jewess, brought up 
 by a relative of the name of Mordecai ; and, 
 by what might be called an extraordinary 
 129 9 
 
I30 PUBLIC SPIRIT. 
 
 stroke of luck but was really a wise pre- 
 arrangement of Providence, she became 
 the queen of Ahasuerus, the Persian mon- 
 arch. 
 
 About the same time as her elevation 
 to this dignity took place, there rose to the 
 head of affairs in Persia — to the place 
 next the king — one Haman, whose star 
 was destined to come into fatal collision 
 with hers. Through a difference with 
 Mordecai, he conceived a deadly hatred 
 against the whole Jewish race, and, through 
 his influence with Ahasuerus, he procured 
 the passing of an imperial edict, by which 
 the Jews were doomed to extermination on 
 a certain day. 
 
 This of course gave rise to extreme 
 consternation among the Jews, As the 
 book itself says, " in every province whither- 
 soever the kirj~'s commandment and his 
 decree came there was great mourning 
 
PUBLIC SPIRIT. 131 
 
 among the Jews, and fasting, and weeping, 
 and wailing ; and many lay in sackcloth 
 and ashes." 
 
 The distress, however, culminated in the 
 mind of Mordecai. It was the ill-will which 
 Haman had conceived against him that 
 lay at the root of the royal edict ; and 
 therefore he felt himself to be, in a sense, 
 the cause of his people's danger. 
 
 His mind was accordingly roused to 
 devise some means of averting the threatened 
 peril ; and, after pondering it every way, 
 he arrived at the conclusion that in Esther 
 lay the only hope. He succeeded in getting 
 information conveyed to her, inside the 
 palace, of the posture of affairs, and implored 
 her to use her influence with the king on 
 behalf of her people. 
 
 Esther sent back word that there was 
 an almost hopeless difficulty in the way. 
 It was the law of the palace that, on pain 
 
132 PUBLIC SPIRIT. 
 
 of death, no woman, not even his wife, should 
 approach the king unbidden. It was true 
 that those were excepted from this penalty 
 to whom the king, at their approach, held 
 out the golden sceptre ; but events had 
 recently happened which rendered it ex- 
 tremely unlikely that the king would be 
 disposed to overlook anything which might 
 appear an infringement of his rights. 
 
 To this Mordecai replied by repeating 
 his entreaty; and, rising to a strain of truly 
 prophetic earnestness, he added the words : 
 " If thou altogether boldest thy peace at this 
 time, then shall there enlargement and 
 deliverance arise to the Jews from another 
 place ; but thou and thy father's house shall 
 be destroyed : and who knoweth whether 
 thou art come to the kingdom for such a 
 time as this ? " 
 
 It was a sublime appeal, and it was 
 effectual. Esther returned answer to 
 
PUBLIC SPIRIT. 133 
 
 Mordecai to gather all the Jews in the city 
 to fast and pray for the success of her 
 adventure, " I also," she added, " and my 
 maidens will fast likewise ; and so will I 
 go in to the king, which is not according 
 to the law : and, if I perish, I perish." 
 
 Her heroic resolution was carried out, and 
 it met with the reward which it deserved. 
 The king, at her approach, held out to her 
 the sceptre of good-will, and promised to 
 give her whatever petition she might ask. 
 She asked the life of her people, and thus 
 became the saviour of a nation, while Haman, 
 her adversary, whose wicked plot was laid 
 bare, came to an ignominious end. 
 
 But let us return to the prophetic message 
 with which Mordecai summoned her to the 
 great attempt, for there is in it a lesson for 
 ourselves. It sets before us three weighty 
 principles : — 
 
134 PUBLIC SPIRIT. 
 
 I. God^s cause is independent of onr 
 assistance. 
 
 " If thou altogether holdest thy peace at 
 this time," said Mordecai, " then shall there 
 arise enlargement and deliverance to the 
 Jews from another place." 
 
 How was he so sure of this ? He had 
 pondered with almost mortal anxiety to find 
 some way of escape, and Esther's attempt 
 seemed the only opening. Yet he tells her 
 that, even if she should decline to do any- 
 thing, deliverance would arise from another 
 quarter. How did he know ? 
 
 Evidently he had drunk deeply of the 
 spirit of the history of Israel. Israel was 
 the people of God ; it was the possessor of 
 the promises of God, which had not reached 
 their fulfilment ; and sooner could the pillars 
 of the heavens fall than these be broken. 
 Mordecai believed that God watched over 
 Israel night and day ; many a time had He 
 
PUBLIC SPIRIT. 135 
 
 delivered her, when everything appeared 
 desperate and the help of man had utterly 
 failed ; and the record of God's faithfulness 
 in the past gave the assurance that in some 
 way of His own He would prevent the 
 extinction of His people. 
 
 This was a noble attitude of mind; and 
 it is one which we should seek to cultivate 
 in reference to the cause of Christ. That 
 cause is not dependent on any man ; it 
 will brook no man's patronage, however 
 important he may be. If we will assist it, 
 our help will be welcome ; but, if not, it 
 can get on without us. We ought to take 
 humble views of our own contributions to it, 
 but very high views of the cause itself. 
 
 If religion is real at all, then it is the 
 greatest and most permanent of all realities. 
 If Christ's own words are true, then it is no 
 limited or hesitating loyalty we owe Him. 
 His cause has the omnipotence of God 
 
136 PUBLIC SPIRIT. 
 
 behind it. God has promised Him the 
 heathen for His inheritance and the utter- 
 most parts of the earth for His possession, 
 and, whoever helps and whoever hinders, 
 the word of the Most High shall not be 
 broken. 
 
 If, indeed, we have identified ourselves 
 with the cause of Christ, our hearts must 
 move in sympathy with its successes and its 
 failures. We shall tremble for the ark of 
 God. But it is quite possible to allow our 
 hearts to tremble for it too much. Never 
 forget that it is God's ark, and that He 
 will take care of it. 
 
 Now and then, at some British Associa- 
 tion, or in Parliament, or in some other place 
 where the famous or at least the notorious 
 congregate, there is a word spoken in favour 
 of Christ and Christianity; and immediately 
 it is taken up in pulpits and on platforms ; 
 it is reiterated in religious newspapers and 
 
PUBLIC SPIRIT, 137 
 
 periodicals ; and there is among a certain 
 class of Christians a flutter of congratulation, 
 as if the utterance of the great man had 
 made all the foundations secure. Such 
 snapping up of the crumbs of patronage is 
 contemptible ; and the weak people who 
 go into those ecstasies are the very same 
 who quake, as if all the foundations were 
 destroyed, when an attack on religion is 
 made by some clever man. 
 
 Ours is an age of majorities. We grow 
 up under the impression, which is borne in 
 on us from every side, that, if the opinion 
 of the majority has declared itself, that 
 which it has declared for must prevail, and 
 that which it has declared against must 
 disappear. It may be a good enough 
 doctrine in some things ; but there are 
 important limits to its application. There 
 are things which do not submit themselves 
 to the judgment of the many or the few. 
 
138 PUBLIC SPIRIT. 
 
 Rather they judge all critics. Do the judges 
 approve of them ? Then it is well for the 
 judges ; but, if not, they persist all the same. 
 One man, with truth and the promise of 
 God at his back, is stronger than an opposing 
 world. Not unfrequently has this been the 
 predicament in which the cause of Christ 
 has found itself. It has come through crises, 
 when persecution has tried to exterminate 
 it with fire and sword. It has passed 
 through periods of scepticism, when learning 
 and cleverness have fancied that they had 
 blown it away as an exploded superstition. 
 Men have had to stand up for it single- 
 handed against principalities and powers ; 
 but, with it at their back, they have been 
 stronger than all that were against them ; 
 as one in such circumstances sang, — 
 
 God's Word, for all their craft and force, 
 One moment shall not linger. 
 But, spite of hell, shall haveits course — 
 'Tis written by His finger. 
 
PUBLIC SPIRIT. 139 
 
 And, though they take our life, 
 Goods, honour, children, wife, 
 Yet is their profit small. 
 These things shall perish all, 
 The City of God remaineth. 
 
 II. We arc not independent of God^s cause. 
 
 "If," said Mordecai to Esther, "thou 
 altogether holdest thy peace at this time, 
 then shall there enlargement and deliverance 
 arise to the Jews from another place ; but," 
 he added, " thou and thy father's house 
 shall be destroyed." Such was the penalty 
 which would follow if, through self-interest, 
 she held back from the service to which he 
 was calling her. 
 
 One reason there was which might have 
 tempted Esther to do nothing : she was not 
 known to be a Jewess. We are expressly 
 told so in the narrative. Mordecai and she, 
 at the time of her marriage, had considered 
 it judicious to conceal her nationality. 
 Although, therefore, a massacre of the Jews 
 
140 PUBLIC SPIRIT. 
 
 had taken place, she might have hoped to 
 escape. She had a further protection in the 
 fact that she was an inmate of the palace 
 and the wife of Ahasuerus. What assassin 
 would dare to enter the precincts ? Had 
 Esther been disposed to consider only her 
 own safety, instead of, in the spirit of piety 
 and patriotism, thinking of her people, these 
 arguments might have presented themselves 
 to her mind. But Mordecai interposed 
 between her and all such refuges of lies by 
 assuring her that, if the Jews were massacred, 
 she and her father's house would perish with 
 the rest. He may have been led to this 
 conclusion by his knowledge of Haman, 
 whose malignity, once having tasted blood, 
 would seek out its victims in the very last 
 hiding-places. But, more likely, he spoke in 
 the spirit of inspiration, which had revealed 
 to him that, if she did nothing for the cause of 
 God's people, she would lose her life for it. 
 
PUBLIC SPIRIT. 141 
 
 We cannot hold back from Christ's cause 
 with impunity. It can do without us, but 
 we cannot do without it. " Whosoever will 
 save his life," said our Lord, " shall lose it." 
 If religion is a reality, to live without it is 
 to suppress and ultimately to destroy the 
 most sacred portion of our own being. It 
 is a kind of suicide, or at least a mutilation. 
 If it is possible for man to enjoy in this life 
 intimacy and fellowship with God, then to 
 live without God is to renounce the pro- 
 foundest and most influential experience 
 which life contains. If Jesus Christ is the 
 central figure in history, and if the movement 
 which He set agoing is the central current 
 of history, then to be dissociated from His 
 aims is to be a cipher, or perhaps even a 
 minus quantity, in the sum of good. It 
 may, indeed, in the meantime facilitate our 
 own pleasure, and it may clear the way for 
 the pursuit of our personal ambitions ; but, 
 
142 PUBLIC SPIRIT. 
 
 when from the end of life we look back on 
 our career, will it satisfy us to remembei 
 the number of pleasant sensations we have 
 had, if we have to confess to ourselves that 
 we are dying without having contributed 
 anything to the real progress of mankind 
 and without ever having seen the real glory 
 of the world ? 
 
 And then, when from that solemn posi- 
 tion we turn our faces the other way — not to 
 look back on our earthly career, but to look 
 forward into eternity — will it not be still 
 more evident that we have lost our life ? 
 If there be any truth in Christ's own sayings, 
 He is the first figure we shall meet as we 
 enter eternity; and to those who have lived 
 for themselves, and not for Him, He will say, 
 " I was an hungered, and ye gave Me no 
 meat ; I was thirsty, and ye gave Me no 
 drink." In the great day when the Son of 
 man comes forth, in the glory of His Father, 
 
PUBLIC SPIRIT. 143 
 
 and, standing on the mount of God, unfurls 
 the banner of salvation, we shall all wish 
 to press to His side and be identified with 
 Him. But He will only acknowledge us 
 then if we are drawn to His side by motions 
 of loyalty and generosity now — now, when 
 He goes through the streets and highways 
 of the world hungry and thirsty, sick and 
 naked and despised. " Whosoever therefore 
 shall confess Me before men, him will I 
 confess also before My Father which is in 
 heaven ; but, whosoever shall deny Me 
 before micn, him will I also deny before My 
 Father which is in heaven." 
 
 III. Christ's cause ojfcrs tlie noblest em- 
 ployment for our gifts. 
 
 Powerful as were the opening portions of 
 Mordecai's appeal, it seems to me it must 
 have been the closing sentence which 
 decided Esther : " And who knoweth 
 
144 PUBLIC SPIRIT. 
 
 whether thou art come to the kingdom for 
 such a time as this ? " 
 
 There had been something very remark- 
 able in Esther's career. She, an exile, an 
 orphan, a Jewess, had become queen of a 
 realm stretching from India to Ethiopia. 
 To a mature mind it might have been 
 natural to ask, for what purpose Pro- 
 vidence had allotted her so singular a 
 fortune. But to herself, probably, this ques- 
 tion had never, up to this point, occurred. 
 She had entered the lists to compete for the 
 prize of beauty, and she had won it. This 
 opened up to her a position of dazzling 
 magnificence and a future of boundless 
 enjoyment ; and, with the uncloyed appetite 
 of youth, she entered on her heritage, taking 
 everything as a matter of course and as the 
 natural tribute to her gifts. 
 
 Now, however, a totally different view of 
 the case was presented to her mind. What 
 
PUBLIC SPIRIT. 145 
 
 if all this had happened to her, not for her 
 own glory and enjoyment at all, but to 
 put her in the position of being the saviour 
 of a nation ? This thought transfigured 
 Esther. It changed her from a light-headed 
 and light-hearted girl into a heroine. She 
 legarded herself no more as the mistress of 
 a thousand pleasures, who existed for the 
 purpose of being waited on by hundreds of 
 servitors, but as an instrument in the hands 
 of God for doing a great work for the sake 
 of others. 
 
 We all, I suppose, begin like Esther. 
 We are the centre of all things to ourselves ; 
 our happiness is the supreme end for which 
 all other persons and things ought to be 
 conspiring. We are proud of our abilities, 
 and eager to shine and command admira- 
 tion. Perhaps, like Esther, we are brought 
 by circumstances into competition with 
 others, and the verdict of our superiors and 
 
 10 
 
146 PUBLIC SPIRIT. 
 
 our equals confirms the estimate of our 
 powers which we have secretly formed our- 
 selves. The prizes of life glitter ahead of 
 us ; we feel confident that we can win 
 them ; and we are hungry to taste as man)/ 
 pleasures as we can. 
 
 But it is a transfiguring moment when 
 the thought first penetrates a man that 
 perhaps this is not the purpose for which he 
 has received his gifts at all — when the image 
 of humanity rises up before him, in its 
 helplessness and misery, appealing to him, 
 as the weak appeal to the strong ; when his 
 country rises before him, as an august and 
 lovable mother, and demands the services 
 of her child ; when the image of Christ 
 rises before him and, pointing to His cause 
 struggling with the forces of evil yet head- 
 ing towards a glorious and not uncertain 
 goal, asks him to lend it his strength — ■ 
 when a man ceases to be the most impor- 
 
PUBLIC SPIRIT. 147 
 
 tant object in the world to himself, and sees, 
 outside, an object which makes him forget 
 himself and irresistibly draws him on. 
 
 This object rose before Esther's eyes in 
 the most vivid and affecting shape. She 
 saw the sword of the assassin at the throat 
 of a nation, and she was summoned to the 
 rescue. Such a time as this could not but 
 evoke the energy of a nature in which any 
 spark of heroism was hidden. 
 
 Such crises occur but seldom ; yet no 
 time is without its own pathos and its call 
 for patriotic and self-sacrificing work. Cer- 
 tainly ours is not. The wonderful progress 
 of science in the last two generations has 
 supplied means for helping the world such 
 as have never existed before. The problem 
 of the degraded and disinherited is pressing 
 on the attention of intelligent minds with 
 an urgency which cannot be disregarded. 
 It is intolerable to think that a noble 
 
148 PUBLIC SPIRIT. 
 
 population like ours should forever lie 
 sodden and stupified, as it now does, 
 beneath a curse like drunkenness ; and 
 events are rapidly maturing for a great 
 change. The heathen world is opening 
 everywhere to the influences of the gospel. 
 And perhaps the most significant of all the 
 signs of the times is the conviction, which 
 is spreading in many different sections of 
 the community, that the average of Christian 
 living is miserably below the standard of 
 the New Testament, and that a far broader, 
 manlier, more courageous and open-eyed 
 style of Christianity is both possible and 
 necessary. 
 
 This call saved Esther, for it smote 
 down and annihilated in her the instincts 
 of selfish pleasure and brought up to the 
 surface all the noble elements of her cha- 
 racter ; and the consequence was, that 
 instead of living and dying as the puppet 
 
PUBLIC SPIRIT. 149 
 
 of an Oriental despot, she now survives 
 through all the centuries as one of those 
 figures from whom noble deeds draw their 
 inspiration. 
 
 The same call comes now to you. May 
 it have a like result ! Only let me add this 
 one thing. If you would rise in response 
 to this call, do not neglect preparation for 
 the career to which it invites you. Know- 
 ledge is the armour of li^ht in which the 
 battles of progress must be won ; and, the 
 more closely this armour is fitted on in the 
 years of study, the more ease will there be 
 in your movements and the more force in 
 your blows by-and-bye. Someone has said 
 that ours is an age when everyone wishes 
 to reform the world, but no one thinks of 
 reforming himself. We must begin with 
 ourselves. Are we to have aught to give 
 the world "i Then we must first have received 
 it. Life for God in public is a mere sound- 
 
ISO PUBLIC SPIRIT. 
 
 ing brass and tinkling cymbal, unless it is 
 balanced by life with God in secret. And, 
 finally, it makes a great difference whether 
 we are going out, in a kind of social knight- 
 errantry, to live for humanity of our own 
 motion, or whether we have met with Jesus 
 Christ in secret, and go forth with His 
 commission and promise at our back, and 
 with His love and inspiration in our souls. 
 
THK EVIDENCES OF RELIGION 
 
 IS' 
 
" And many mork believed because of His own word ; 
 and said unto the woman, now we believe, not because 
 of thy saying : for we have heard him ourselves, and 
 
 KNOW THAT THIS IS INDEED THE CHRIST, THE SaVIOUR OF 
 THE WORLD." St. JoHN iv. 4I, 42. 
 
 152 
 
VII. 
 
 THE EVIDENCES OF RELIGION. 
 
 A NYONE approaching religion at present 
 from the intellectual side alone will 
 find great obstacles in the way of belief. In 
 our century the human mind has been in an 
 almost unparalleled state of activity, and 
 immense accumulations have been made of 
 new knowledge. With these Christian 
 thought has not yet had time to make a 
 complete reckoning. Science, for example, 
 has been extending its dominion towards all 
 points of the compass, and it has greatly 
 altered our conceptions of the wonderful 
 universe in which we live. A hardly less 
 characteristic movement of the modern mind 
 is enthusiastic interest in the history of 
 153 
 
154 THE EVIDENCES OF RELIGION. 
 
 the past ; and at the present moment the 
 ancient documents of our religion, the Holy 
 Scriptures, are being subjected to the most 
 uncompromising investigation, while new- 
 theories about them are being crowded in 
 bewildering numbers on the public mind. 
 
 In these circumstances what is the 
 individual to do ? Must he wait till these 
 controversies are settled, before having any- 
 thing to do with religion ? Without doubt 
 it is the duty of Christianity, as an organized 
 body, to reckon with all new knowledge ; 
 and intelligent minds will follow the course 
 of the argument with interest, noting especi- 
 ally the points where traditional beliefs 
 require to be modified on account of the 
 incoming of fresh light. Perhaps in our day 
 this work has not been carried on with 
 sufficient vigour; the apologetic of the Church 
 is lagging behind the advance of knowledge. 
 But must the individual keep at a distance 
 
THE EVIDENCES OF RELIGION. 155 
 
 from religion till this work is completed ? 
 If so, it is manifest that many must spend 
 their life without the influence of religion ; 
 and to lack this guidance and strength in 
 the years when character is being formed is 
 the greatest of all calamities. Besides, it is 
 evident that those who are enjoying the 
 comfort and strength of religion have not 
 waited till they were able to answer all these 
 questions ; for very few could pretend to 
 have gone deeply into them all. 
 
 Can their faith, then, be justified .'' What 
 is the kind of evidence on which certainty in 
 religion is grounded } 
 
 A well-known incident of the gospel 
 history will guide us in this investigation. 
 
 The Woman of Samaria was a remarkable 
 instance of the effects which contact with 
 Christ was able to produce. She came to 
 Jacob's well a notorious sinner ; she went 
 back to the town a rejoicing believer. Not 
 
156 THE EVIDENCES OF RELIGION. 
 
 only so : she was transformed into an elo- 
 quent evangelist, who spread abroad the news 
 that the long expected Messiah and the 
 Saviour of the world was at hand. And she 
 was most successful. There is a strange 
 persuasiveness in the testimony of one in 
 whom the flame of divine love has just been 
 kindled. Her words so moved her fellow- 
 townsmen that they flocked out to see Jesus 
 in numbers which, as they approached on 
 the highway, reminded Him of the stalks of 
 corn covering a harvest field. 
 
 Coming to Jesus with minds disposed to 
 believe by the woman's testimony, they 
 begged Him to stay amongst them ; and 
 He remained two days. These were memor- 
 able days for that city. Many, listening to 
 His words of grace and truth, experienced 
 the same change as the woman had under- 
 gone at the well ; and, as the joy of believing 
 overspread their souls, they said to her 
 
THE EVIDENCES OF RELIGION. 157 
 
 in tones of hallowed pleasantry, " Now 
 we believe, not because of thy saying ; for 
 we have heard Him ourselves, and know 
 that this is indeed the Christ, the Saviour 
 of the world." They had believed at first, 
 when she told them that the Saviour was at 
 hand, because her words and her manner 
 won them ; but now they believed for a far 
 stronger reason — because they had been 
 saved themselves. 
 
 In these words the simple Samaritans, 
 guided only by a vivid experience, gave ex- 
 pression to one of the prime truths of religion. 
 They distinguished with perfect clearness 
 between two kinds of evidence on which 
 faith may rest — the evidence of hearsay 
 or tradition and the evidence of experience. 
 
 I. The Evidence of Tradition. 
 We have all heard say that there is in 
 this world such a thing as salvation, and 
 
158 THE EVIDENCES OF RELIGION. 
 
 that the Author and Depositary of it is 
 the Lord Jesus Christ. Ever since we have 
 been able to understand anything, we have 
 been assured by a hundred witnesses, that 
 men can be lifted out of the state of sin 
 and misery in which they are born and 
 raised to a happy and holy life in this world 
 and to a state of unimaginable blessedness in 
 the world to come ; and that this has been 
 made possible by the life and the death of 
 Christ. These statements are the sum and 
 substance of the creed of Christendom ; and, 
 I say, they have been reported to us by 
 a great many witnesses. The witnesses 
 are well deserving of credit ; and, just as 
 the Samaritan woman's fellow-townsmen 
 believed when she testified about Christ, so 
 we have good reason to trust those by whom 
 these facts are certified. 
 
 In the first place, we have the testimony 
 
THE EVIDENCES OF RELIGION. 159 
 
 of Scripture. The essence of the Bible is 
 nothing else than that which I have declared 
 to be the creed of Christendom. It reports 
 that of old God was in the world. He 
 worked through the law and the prophets, 
 convincing men of sin. He appeared in 
 Jesus Christ, to take away the sin of the 
 world. He revealed Himself in the Holy 
 Spirit on the day of Pentecost, and in the 
 early successes of the Christian cause. To 
 these facts the Bible bears witness. 
 
 Is it not an august witness .-* The Bible 
 has mastered the mind of the world, and 
 it is mastering it more and more. It is the 
 great teacher of truthfulness, and in every 
 part it breathes the air of simplicity and 
 truth. It claims to be the word of Him 
 who cannot lie. It is, indeed, outside testi- 
 mony ; it is only hearsay to us. But is it not 
 most credible hearsay } If the Samaritans 
 believed the testimony of a notorious woman. 
 
i6o THE EVIDENCES OF RELIGION. 
 
 may not we much more believe that of the 
 Bible ? 
 
 Then there is the testimony of Christian 
 history and Christian learning. The witness 
 of the Bible has been continued in the 
 witness of the Church. Age after age, as 
 the good news has sounded through the 
 world, it has found a response in the 
 human heart ; and men of ability and 
 character have risen up to declare that they 
 have found in Christ the secret of life. 
 
 Specially worthy of note in this regard is 
 that portion of Christian learning which has 
 been occupied with the defence of Chris- 
 tianity. In all ages doubters have arisen, 
 who have cast suspicion on the Gospel. 
 Sometimes they have denied that man needs 
 salvation, trying to persuade poor human 
 nature that it is not so miserable after all, 
 but has resources within itself which will 
 
THE EVIDENCES OF RELIGION. i6i 
 
 enable it, in course of time, to achieve 
 perfection and make of the world an earthly 
 paradise. Sometimes they have admitted 
 that man is utterly miserable, but denied 
 that salvation is possible for him : miserable 
 he is, and miserable he must remain. At 
 other times they have contended that, 
 whether salvation is possible or not, at least 
 Jesus Christ is not man's Saviour ; for He 
 was only a man Himself, and could not 
 ransom the souls of His brothers. In all 
 these forms doubt of Christianity has asserted 
 itself, and pressed its suspicions on men's 
 minds by strength of argument ; but, as 
 often as this has happened, God has raised 
 up men of sanctified genius and learning, 
 to refute the objections and surround Chris- 
 tianity with a circumvallation of evidences. 
 Nor have these champions stood alone ; they 
 have only been the mouthpieces of obscure 
 millions at their backs, who bore their 
 
 II 
 
1 62 THE EVIDENCES OF RELIGION. 
 
 testimony through them. This also, indeed, 
 is only outside testimony ; it is only hearsay ; 
 but is it not hearsay which has the strongest 
 claim on our faith ? 
 
 But, still further, there is the testimony 
 of those known to ourselves zvho have been 
 saved by Christ. This corresponds most 
 closely with the testimony which the men of 
 Samaria believed. They heard the woman 
 tell that Jesus had shown her all her evil 
 past and had taken her sin away ; and they 
 marked a change in her demeanour — a 
 softening of the countenance, indicating that 
 the hardened heart was broken, and an 
 earnestness of manner in telling her tale — 
 which assured them that they might trust 
 her. But has not the same testimony been 
 borne to us, with the same marks of genuine- 
 ness ,? Is anyone ignorant that at the 
 present hour there are tens of thousands 
 
777^ EVIDENCES OF RELIGION. 163 
 
 alive with the same tale to tell — that they 
 have met with Christ, and that He has 
 broken their hearts and healed them again, 
 and put a new song in their mouths and 
 a new purpose into their lives ? To many 
 of us this appeal comes with overwhelming 
 power ; because the most sacred treasures 
 which our memories contain are our recollec- 
 tions of those, in our homes or among our 
 kindred, who have borne this testimony to us. 
 They are the excellent of the earth — people 
 that dwell alone in our memories and are 
 not to be reckoned with the others there — 
 men of a dignity and a wisdom above the 
 dower of manhood, women of a purity and a 
 tenderness above even the dower of woman- 
 hood ; but well we know that, in their own 
 clear conviction, all they possessed which 
 made them peculiar was the effect of their 
 connection with the Saviour Christ. 
 
 This, too, is outside testimony; it is only 
 
i64 THE EVIDENCES OF RELIGIO^. 
 
 hearsay ; but it is enough to make some of 
 us say, Even if I should never know any- 
 thing of Christianity in my own experience, 
 nothing will ever persuade me that it is not 
 a reality ; there is a secret, even though I 
 may never know it ; a power which is not 
 of this earth must have gone to the shaping 
 of those hallowed lives ; and I believe that 
 their own conviction about its origin was 
 correct. 
 
 11. The Evidence of Experience. 
 
 The forms of testimony hitherto mentioned 
 all come from without ; and therefore I have 
 called them hearsay. This has been done 
 with no intention of disparaging them ; on 
 the contrary, I have shown that they are 
 worthy of all acceptation. Yet in substance 
 they are precisely like the testimony which 
 the Samaritans believed, when the woman 
 reported to them her interview with Christ. 
 
THE EVIDENCES OF RELIGION 165 
 
 But, after Christ had been with them two 
 days, the Samaritans believed in Him for a 
 very different reason : " Now we believe, not 
 because of thy saying ; but we have heard 
 Him ourselves, and know that this is indeed 
 the Christ, the Saviour of the world." They 
 had now obtained, in place of the evidence 
 of hearsay, the evidence of experience. 
 They believed in Christ's power to tell them 
 all that ever they did, because He had laid 
 open the secrets of their own lives ; and they 
 believed that He was the Saviour of the 
 world because He had saved themselves. 
 
 This passage from belief that rests on 
 testimony to belief founded on experience is 
 perfectly familiar in common life. 
 
 It may have chanced to you to hear from 
 others the rumour of one of those men of 
 whom only two or three arise in a generation 
 — orators gifted with the power of overmaster- 
 ing eloquence. The reports of the effects 
 
1 66 THE EVIDENCES OF RELIGION. 
 
 produced by the speaking of such a man 
 are often wellnigh incredible. Your friend's 
 eyes glisten and his mind seems possessed, 
 as he piles up hyperboles in the attempt 
 to convey to you the impression made on 
 himself. You believe him, but it is with a 
 cool kind of. belief. You tell him not to 
 get excited, and you take a large dis- 
 count off his words. Still his account is 
 enough to make you go and hear for your- 
 self, when an opportunity occurs. Suppose 
 it is a real case of oratorical genius — that 
 there is a charm in the liquid yet penetrat- 
 ing tones that thrills you through and 
 through, and that, as one astonishing idea 
 succeeds another, your excitement rises, till 
 time and space are annihilated. Then it 
 is your turn to be the excited reporter of 
 the scene. You are anno}ed that listeners 
 remain cool under your description ; but 
 your own belief in the man is immovable, 
 
THE EVIDENCES OF RELIGION. 167 
 
 and it is of a totally different quality from r 
 that which mere hearsay had produced. 
 
 Or take a rarer experience. It may 
 chance that you know what it is to have 
 laboured under a disease which baffled all 
 local skill and reduced you to despair. 
 But you heard of a physician who was said 
 to have a genius for dealing with this 
 special ailment. Enthusiastic admirers 
 praised him to you, and told you incredible 
 stories of what had happened to themselves. 
 You listened with a dreary kind of belief; 
 yet you went and tried. And the marvel- 
 lous cleverness of the questions with which 
 he found out everything about your case, 
 the simple skill with which his trained 
 fingers discovered the very spot where the 
 malady was hidden, and the triumphant 
 results of his treatment, turned you into 
 the enthusiast who endeavoured to persuade 
 others by the self-contradictory argument 
 
l68 THE EVIDENCES OF RELIGION. 
 
 that you would not have believed it if you 
 had not come through it yourself. 
 
 Now, there is such a faith in Christ arising 
 from experience, and it is far above the 
 faith of tradition. Those possess it who, 
 having received the testimony concerning 
 salvation and the Saviour borne by the 
 Bible, by the Church, and by living men 
 to whom He has been precious, have gone 
 to Christ with their own personal needs 
 and, in their own saved souls, have received 
 the evidence that all which others have said 
 of Him is true. 
 
 He tells them all that ever they have 
 done, as the Samaritan woman declared He 
 had told her. There are states of conscience 
 of which all have some experience — they 
 are due to the convincing influence of the 
 Holy Ghost— in which our evil past rises 
 up before us, and the voice of God repeats 
 the story of our sins. We can have no 
 
THE EVIDENCES OF RELIGION. 169 
 
 doubt in such solemn hours that a God 
 exists, or that the hoi}' law is the expression 
 of His will. But never is this sight of our- 
 selves so moving as when in spirit we are 
 standing on Golgotha, and the accusing 
 voice is heard issuing from the lips of Him 
 who is hanging on the tree. 
 
 But this telling of all that ever we have 
 done is only a preliminary to forgiving it 
 all. Let anyone who has been told all 
 that ever he did — that is, who has been 
 awakened to the meaning of his own conduct, 
 who feels how wicked his life has been, how 
 it condemns him before God and cuts off 
 his hope of blessedness in the future — let 
 such a one approach Christ in prayer and 
 in the Word, and deal with Him about his 
 case, and he will obtain the sense of complete 
 forgiveness. Christ has this gift to give in 
 virtue of His life and death on earth. He 
 can blot out the past and cancel its power 
 
I70 THE EVIDENCES OF RELIGION. 
 
 to condemn us now or punish us hereafter. 
 And the seal and evidence that He has done 
 so is the peace, passing all understanding, 
 which is shed abroad in the believing heart. 
 
 But the experience of Christ's power to 
 save does not stop here. The root of the 
 misery of an unsaved man is not in his 
 unforgiven past — bad as this may be — but 
 in his nature alienated from God. It is 
 from this that individual sins arise. It is 
 owing to this that he finds it difficult or 
 unpleasant to think of God, and that his 
 life is prayerless, or his worship formal. 
 But let a man who is feeling in this way 
 come to the Saviour and put himself into 
 His hands, and he will experience a mighty 
 change. The touch of Christ quickens the 
 spirit of man — that is, the part of his nature 
 intended for intercourse with God and 
 eternity — and causes its powers to go forth 
 with vigour and satisfaction upon their 
 
THE EVIDENCES OF RELIGION. 171 
 
 proper objects. Love to God, to God's 
 people, to God's Word, to God's house, to 
 everything that is God's, will break forth, 
 and the spiritual world will become as real 
 as the natural has always been. 
 
 And this change is a growing one. The 
 oftener and the more ardently a man thus 
 turns to Christ, laying hold of Him by 
 faith and closing his entire nature round 
 Him, the more patent will the consequences 
 be. The daily life of a Christian ought to 
 be a daily meeting and dealing with Christ, 
 as friend with friend — speaking to Him in 
 prayer, listening to Him in the Word, learn- 
 ing to know His mind, imitating His ex- 
 ample, and rejoicing in His love. And, if 
 we are cultivating such a connection with 
 Him, there will inevitably pass influences 
 from Him into us, the transforming effects 
 of which on our character and life will be 
 a growing demonstration that all which the 
 
172 THE EVIDENCES OF RELIGION. 
 
 saints of the past have said of Him is 
 true. 
 
 Suchj then, are the two kinds of evidence 
 on which faith may rest. 
 
 Both are valuable, and they ought not 
 to be separated. They lend each other 
 mutual support ; for the more a man is 
 satisfied with the historical credentials of 
 Christianity, the more confidence will he 
 have in committing to it his own vital 
 interests ; and, on the other hand, the more 
 certain and satisfying his own experience 
 of it is, the more will he be persuaded that 
 it is not a mere fiction of the imagination, 
 but has its root and foundation in the nature 
 of things. 
 
 But, though both kinds of evidence are 
 valuable, they are not equally valuable. 
 
 The evidence of tradition is external, and 
 is, therefore, liable to be shaken by many 
 
THE EVIDENCES OF RELIGION. 173 
 
 external influences. The Bible is exposed 
 to constant assaults ; and these may, for 
 a time, lack a satisfactory reply. The learn- 
 ing of the Church on the side of Christianity 
 may chance sometimes to be opposed by 
 still greater learning on the opposite side. 
 Even the testimony of the lives of the 
 saints may fail us. It may not be our 
 good fortune to see true religion embodied 
 in persons who command our deepest homage 
 and respect. We may even see it embodied 
 in characters which make on us an opposite 
 impression. And there is the still sadder 
 possibility of seeing those whom we have 
 taken for saints turning out to be hypocrites. 
 Many such dangers beset the faith which 
 is due to hearsay. But the evidence on 
 which the other kind of faith rests is in- 
 ternal. It is a personal possession, which 
 none can take from us. It is a part of 
 ourselves and the principal part. How can 
 
174 THE EVIDENCES OF RELIGION. 
 
 I believe that there is no such thing as 
 salvation, necessary or possible, if I am 
 saved myself? How can I give up my 
 faith that Christ is a divine Saviour, if He 
 has saved, and is daily saving, me ? Some- 
 times, indeed, one may doubt the reality of 
 one's own experience ; but, if it is constantly 
 growing and becoming more and more the 
 predominant element in one's life, it must 
 more and more throw off every vestige of 
 doubt. 
 
 There is another difference between these 
 two kinds of evidence : the faith that is due 
 to hearsay does not save ; the faith of 
 experience does. We may accept the 
 testimony of the Bible and the Church and 
 the saints to such facts as that all men are 
 sinners and need a Saviour, and that sal- 
 vation is to be found in Christ alone. But 
 will this save us .? It will not, unless, 
 making use of this testimony, we put it to 
 
THE EVIDENCES OF RELIGION. 175 
 
 the proof for ourselves by going to Christ 
 and dealing with Him about our own 
 spiritual needs, 
 
 I should not like, in regard to any of 
 the great experiences of human life, to be 
 wholly dependent on the testimony of 
 others. I do not wish to have merely the 
 word of the poets for the beauty and glory 
 of nature. I wish to feel the awakening 
 life of spring and to see the splendours of 
 the growing year with my own senses, — 
 
 Our present sunsets are as rich in gold 
 As ere the Ihad's music was outrolled. 
 
 I will not take the mere word of Shak- 
 speare or Burns for the sweetness of love, 
 or the glory of youth, or the joy of 
 independence. While delighting in the 
 immortal expression which they have given 
 to these sentiments, I desire to experience 
 the feelings myself in all their freshness 
 
176 THE EVIDENCES OF RELIGION. 
 
 and in all their power. And especially in 
 regard to the very highest experiences of 
 the soul — those of religion — I am not 
 content merely to receive the testimony of 
 St. John and St. Paul, of Augustine or 
 Bernard, of Luther or Calvin, of Wesley 
 or McCheyne, that they found salvation 
 satisfying and Christ precious. Gladly, 
 indeed, do I accept their testimony, and 
 rejoice that they were able to give such 
 golden expression to that which I cannot 
 worthily utter ; yet I wish to enjoy the 
 experiences myself, and to be able to say 
 to even the greatest of these witnesses : 
 " Now I believe, not because of thy saying ; 
 for I have heard Him myself, and know 
 that this is indeed the Christ, the Saviour 
 of the world." 
 
YOUTH AND AGE 
 
 177 
 
 12 
 
"Both young men and maidens; old men and chil- 
 dren : LET THEM PRAISE THE NAME OF THE LoRD."' PsALM 
 
 cxlviii. 12. 
 
 178 
 
VIII. 
 
 YOUTH AND AGE. 
 
 A SCOTCH professor, addressing an 
 ^ academic audience in America, warned 
 his hearers against cant. At the close, 
 questions were invited, and one of the 
 students asked the professor, " What is 
 cant ? " " There is a kind of religion," 
 was the reply, " which is natural to an old 
 woman, and there is another which is natural 
 to a young man ; but, if the young man 
 professes to have the religion of the old 
 woman, that is cant." 
 
 To some minds the form of this answer 
 will doubtless appear undignified or even 
 irreverent ; and, although it might be de- 
 fended on the ground of its being spoken 
 179 
 
i8o YOUTH AND AGE. 
 
 on the spur of the moment and in reply 
 to an irritating question, we will not defend 
 it. Let the form go. But the substance 
 we will not let go ; for there is wisdom in 
 it. It means that the young have special 
 needs of their own, which the Gospel must 
 recognise, if it is to be of any use to them ; 
 and the mature or aged, in like manner, 
 have their own special wants, which cannot 
 be met by the provision made for the young, 
 but can only be satisfied by a Gospel which 
 understands and sympathizes with them. 
 
 No doubt it might be said that the 
 religious wants of all, old and young, are 
 alike — they all need the pardon of sin, the 
 new heart and the promise of heaven ; and 
 for all alike there is the same Saviour. 
 This is true ; but, great truth though it be, 
 it is only half the truth. There is another 
 half, and it is this : Every season of life has 
 its own necessities, its own sorrows, its own 
 
YOUTH AND AGE. 
 
 joys and aspirations ; and it is by the 
 delicate appreciation of these in every case, 
 and by the possession of resources ample 
 enough to meet them all, that the Gospel 
 proves itself to be the power of God unto 
 salvation to everyone that believeth. Christ 
 has a voice and a message for each separate 
 human soul in the precise stage of its history 
 at which He finds it, and it is by the nice 
 adaptation of His sympathy to the condition 
 of everyone that He is able, as He said, to 
 draw all men to Himself. 
 
 I. For the young He has the Gospel of 
 Living ; for the old the Gospel of Dying. 
 
 There is a gospel of dying ; and it is 
 well for us that there is, for we have all 
 to die. When the solemn hour arrives in 
 which we must leave this world and go 
 to another, to face the great white throne, 
 happy will it be for us if we know the 
 
i82 YOUTH AND AGE. 
 
 secret which is able to transmute tliat 
 mortal defeat into the greatest of all vic- 
 tories. There is no logic more unanswerable 
 than that which says to us, " We must all 
 die, and no man can tell how soon his own 
 turn may come ; therefore we ought to be 
 ready ; it is the height of folly to live un- 
 prepared, when we may die at any moment." 
 No wonder preachers make ample use of 
 this logic, for to them death is an ever- 
 present reality. Every week they are moving 
 among the sick and dying ; every other day 
 they follow the dead to their long home. 
 Death becomes to them an overmastering 
 motive. It is so also to those into whose 
 family circle the bolt of death has fallen. 
 A considerable proportion of those who have 
 passed middle life have, by repeated experi- 
 ences, been made acquainted with death. If 
 you speak to them about it, you awaken a 
 hundred tragic and tender memories, every- 
 
YOUTH AND AGE. 183 
 
 one of which constrains them to prepare to 
 meet their God. Even when we are com- 
 paratively young, this may become the most 
 powerful of all motives, if the finger of death 
 has touched one who is so near to us as to 
 be part of ourselves. In this way St. Augus- 
 tine was converted through the death of his 
 friend ; Luther was driven into the convent 
 by a flash of lightning cutting down a com- 
 panion at his side ; and in hundreds of cases 
 the temporal death of one has become life 
 eternal to another. 
 
 But, until death thus lays its cold finger 
 on our own flesh, so to speak, it is strangely 
 unreal to us, and the best logic, reasoning 
 from it, produces almost no impression. To 
 many of the young death is unthinkable ; 
 the thought of it will not stick to their 
 minds, though they try. As the wing of the 
 sea- fowl is provided with a natural unguent 
 \vhich enables her to shed the rain, as it falls. 
 
YOUTH AND AGE. 
 
 and the wave in which she dips, so nature 
 seems to have provided the young with a 
 power of keeping off this thought till the 
 hour of providence strikes. 
 
 It is of life the young mind thinks, not 
 of death ; and therefore the gospel which 
 appeals to it must be a gospel of life, not a 
 gospel of death. It must mingle with the 
 warm rush of the healthy blood and keep 
 time with the beating of the bounding 
 heart. 
 
 But is there not a response to this in the 
 Gospel of Christ ? Is it not pre-eminently 
 a gospel of life ? There is nothing else 
 about which it is more constantly speaking. 
 It comes not to circumscribe our life, but to 
 intensify and enlarge it ; not to devitalize 
 us, but to send an ampler flood of energy 
 through our veins. " I am come," said 
 Christ, " that ye might have life, and that 
 ye might have it more abundantly." 
 
YOUTH AND AGE. 185 
 
 II. To the young Christ brings the Gospel 
 of Inspiration ; to the old the Gospel of Con- 
 solation, 
 
 There is consolation in the Gospel ; and 
 sorely does the world need it. The success- 
 ful are few, the disappointed are many. 
 Man lies open to the attacks of misfortune 
 at every point of the compass. His intellect 
 may be able to cleave through the obstruc- 
 tions of fortune and breast the heights of 
 success, when suddenly the body gives way, 
 and the mind, though its own strength is 
 undiminished, has to lag behind in the race, 
 waiting for its frail attendant. Life is little ; 
 it is only a single stone at the most we can 
 lay on the rising cairn of the purpose of the 
 world. Life is short ; we have scarcely well 
 begun our work when we hear the hammer 
 knocking to warn us that it is time to stop, 
 and to appear before the great Taskmaster. 
 
 Man needs consolation, and the Gospel of 
 
i86 YOUTH AND AGE, 
 
 Christ gives it. It supplies that which will 
 take the place of worldly losses. When the 
 ground begins to roll round us in the earth- 
 quake of change, and the sand to slip away 
 on which we have been standing, it directs 
 us to the Rock which is the same yesterday 
 and to-day and forever. Blessed is he who, 
 when the star of time is sinking in the west, 
 has learned to look to the east for the rising 
 of the day-star of eternity. 
 
 These are the consolations of the Gospel ; 
 it is full of them, and they are infinitely 
 precious. But they are for the old, or at least 
 the mature, not for the young. Youth is not 
 yet able to receive them, and, if you press 
 them on it, you are offering what it does not 
 want. It wants inspiration, not consolation. 
 
 Youth looks round on the world in which 
 it finds itself, and notes its defects with a 
 fresh and inevitable glance. It burns to put 
 them right. It looks on the figures of those 
 
YOUTH AND AGE. 187 
 
 who have played their part well in the past 
 and longs to emulate them. Its own powers 
 are still a mysterious, unmeasured set of 
 possibilities ; but it longs to measure them 
 against the task of the world — to plunge 
 into the great game of life and make its 
 mark. 
 
 Now, has the Gospel no sympathy with 
 this state of mind ? I think it has the 
 greatest sympathy with it. Christ taught 
 the individual to realise his dignity as an 
 immortal being ; and the life He condemned 
 most severely was that which accomplishes 
 nothing. He Himself, the humble Carpenter 
 of Nazareth, while rejecting the bribe of the 
 kingdoms of the earth, yet aimed at world- 
 wide influence : and He taught His lowly 
 followers to expect to sit on thrones judging 
 the twelves tribes of Israel. One of the 
 commonest religious sentiments of our day 
 is that expressed in the lines of Kcble, — 
 
YOUTH AND AGE. 
 
 The trivial round, the common task 
 Would furnish all we ought to ask — ■ 
 
 Room to deny ourselves ; a road 
 To bring us daily nearer God. 
 
 It is a beautiful and a true sentiment : 
 there is nothing too small to be done to the 
 honour of God ; there is no sphere too 
 humble to be accepted thankfully ; no task 
 too trivial for anyone's devotion to whom 
 Providence has assigned it. Yet I venture 
 to say that this sentiment, though true, is 
 not nearly so true, is not nearly so charac- 
 teristic of Christianity and of the New Testa- 
 ment, as its exact opposite. The prevailing 
 strain of the New Testament is not that 
 there is nothing too small to do in Christ's 
 service, but rather that there is nothing too 
 great to attempt in the name of Christ. 
 The New Testament is from beginning to 
 end a record of how men who were nothing 
 in themselves became princes of thought 
 and action through the inspiration of Christ ; 
 
YOUTH AND AGE. 189 
 
 and it still comes to the young heart, on 
 the edge of the battle of life, not to cool it 
 with the maxims of prudence, but to tighten 
 its armour and put the sword into its hand, 
 and, breathing into it high aspiration, to 
 send it forth into the struggle, crying, " I can 
 do all things through Christ which strength- 
 eneth me." 
 
 III. For the young Christ has the Gospel 
 of Giving; for the old the Gospel of Receiving. 
 
 Many would, doubtless, say that religion 
 is all receiving. They feel that they have 
 received so much from Christ, and that what 
 they can give Him is such a trifle in com- 
 parison, that nothing should be spoken of 
 in religion except what Christ has done for 
 us. This is the conviction into which we 
 grow more and more with advancing years. 
 We feel more and more the wickedness of 
 the natural heart and the hopelessness of any 
 
190 YOUTH AND AGE. 
 
 good thing coming out of us. It is a strange 
 fact — but it is a fact — that, the better 
 people grow, they are the more conscious 
 of their own wickedness ; the holiest person 
 is the one readiest to say, I am the chief 
 of sinners. In the same way, those who do 
 most good feel that they are doing nothing : 
 the power they have is not their own ; they 
 have nothing that they have not received. 
 
 This is the sentiment of the most ad- 
 vanced piety. Yet there is a gospel of 
 giving ; and it appeals particularly to the 
 young. Christ has a cause on earth which 
 can only be carried on by the energy of 
 those who are willing to devote themselves 
 to His service. He needs men and women 
 to think for Him, to plan for Him, to speak 
 and act for Him, to be His brain and heart, 
 His eyes and lips, His hands and feet in 
 the world. He is not here any longer to 
 carry on His cause Himself; He has left it 
 
YOUTH AND AGE. 191 
 
 to the charge of those who are willing to 
 
 act in His name. His cause is the cause 
 
 of goodness and progress ; its aim is to 
 
 make God's will be done on earth as it is 
 
 in heaven. It has all the forces of evil 
 
 ranged against it ; and it has to advance 
 
 in the face of opposition and scorn. It 
 
 needs courage, initiative, sacrifice ; it needs 
 
 the lives of men. Christ appeals to every 
 
 man and says, " Will you give your life to 
 
 My cause } You could do something to 
 
 help Me, and I would prize your help. 
 
 Are you to be part of the opposition which 
 
 I and My cause have to overcome, fighting 
 
 passively or actively on the side of evil } . . ^ ^ 
 
 There is no neutrality ; he that is not with \>^ '' 
 
 Me is against Me." 
 
 This appeal comes home especially to the 
 young. You may live fifty years yet, or 
 more, in the world. Your influence during 
 that time will be a solid contribution either 
 
192 YOUTH AND AGE. 
 
 to Christ or to the enemy of Christ ; and it 
 will never cease to act as a factor on the 
 one side or the other through all future 
 history. To which side are you going to 
 give it ? Can you be harbouring the ignoble 
 thought that you may give three- fourths or 
 nine-tenths of life to Christ's enemy, and 
 then come to Him with the poor fraction 
 left over at the last, in the hope of escaping 
 punishment and getting into heaven ? This 
 is the meanest kind of religion that the heart 
 of man has ever conceived. Give Christ the 
 whole — your life unbroken, your strength 
 of heart and brain and muscle in its prime. 
 There is a work you can do for Him in 
 youth that none can do in old age. Ay, and 
 there is an experience of Him and of His 
 love which only a young heart can enjoy. 
 
 Printed by Hasell, Watson, 6= Viiiey, Ld., London and Aylesbury. 
 
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