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A FAITHFUL MINISTRY. 
 
 SERMONS 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN MILTON HOLMES, 
 
 FOR EIGHT YEARS TASTOR OF THE FIRST CONGREGATIONAL 
 CHURCH, JERSEY CITY, N. J., 
 
 1861 — 1869. 
 
 With a Commemorative Sermon, by 
 
 G. BUCKINGHAM WILLCOX, 
 
 Edited, with an Introduction and Commemorative Sermon, by 
 
 GEORGE B. BACON. 
 
 NEW HAVEN, CONN. : 
 
 CHAS. C. CHATFIELD & CO. 
 1872. 
 
H6. 
 
 Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1872, by 
 
 Charles C. Chatfield & Co., 
 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 
 
 NEW HAVEN, CONN. : 
 THE COLLEGE COURANT PRINT. 
 
TO THE MEMORY OF 
 
 JOHN MILTON HOLMES. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Introduction, vu 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 I. — The Ministry, . . . * . . i 
 
 (May 27, 1861.) 
 11.— Satisfied in Heaven, ... 29 
 {1862.) 
 
 III. — Seen of Angels, . . . -55 
 (1861.) 
 
 IV. — Giving the Heart, . . . .81 
 
 (1863.) 
 V. — The Witness for the Truth, . 103 
 
 (1864.) 
 VI. — The Christian Doctrine of Loyalty, 129 
 
 (Thanksgiving Day, 1864.) 
 
 VII. — The Pilgrim Temple Builders, . 163 
 
 (1865.) 
 VIII. — The Danger oe Looking Back, . 213 
 
 (1866.) 
 
 IX. — The Broadness of the Bible, . 237 
 
 (Anniversary of Hudson Co. Bible Society, 1866.) 
 
 X. — A Pastoral Letter, . . . 275 
 
 (Arcachon, France, Nov., 1867.) 
 
 XI. — The Mount of Vision, . . . 287 
 (May 23, 1869.) 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 I. — Commemorative Discourse, . .313 
 
 (By Rev. G. Buckingham Willcox, Sept. 24, 1871.) 
 
 II. — Commemorative Discourse, . . 339 
 (By Rev. George B. Bacon, October 8, 187 1.) 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The author of the sermons included in this volume, as a 
 memorial of whom also the volume has been prepared, will 
 scarcely need an introduction to those who are likely to be the 
 readers of it. His own congregation, whose love for him as their 
 first pastor was only equalled by his love for them as his first and 
 only flock, have desired to have in permanent form, for their own 
 use, some of the characteristic discourses of which they retain so 
 vivid a recollection, and by which, when they listened to them, they 
 weire so greatly stimulated and instructed. Moreover, there are 
 few men among the graduates of Yale College for the past twenty 
 years, whose circle of College acquaintance was larger than his. 
 And it is believed that there are many, — not only of those who were 
 more or less closely with him in the four years of study at New 
 Haven, but also of the graduates of later years, among whom the 
 fame of his genius, his good fellowship, his wit, his enthusiasm and 
 manliness, still lingers as not the least of the traditions of recent 
 College history, — who will be glad to see what kind of work it was 
 with which the years of his active manhood were employed. It is 
 chiefly, though not solely, to these two classes of readers that the 
 present volume makes appeal. 
 
 But it will not be without a certain larger and more general value. 
 To be sure, there will not be found in the sermons much that is 
 new or striking, in the substance of the thought. The gospel which 
 Mr. Holmes preached was no other gospel than that which may 
 be heard from scores and hundreds of pulpits throughout the land. 
 And there are no such singularities of thought or peculiarities of 
 doctrine as would justify the publication of this volume as a con- 
 tribution to religious or theological discussion. But there is in the 
 way of putting this familiar truth, in the method of telling this "old, 
 old story," so much that is characteristic of the preacher, that it 
 cannot fail to recall him to those who knew him, and to indicate 
 
viii Introduction. 
 
 the peculiarities of his genius to those who did not know him. In 
 some respects even, the preaching of which this volume is, in part, 
 the record, is worthy to be studied as a model of effectiveness. 
 Whatever else it is or is not, it is good preaching. It made itself 
 heard and felt and remembered. And the characteristics of it are 
 worthy to be noted, for they were also the characteristics of a man 
 beloved and honored, and lamented beyond his fellows. 
 
 In some respects, indeed, the style of Mr. Holmes' preaching 
 was at first a disappointment, even to those who thought they knew 
 him best. In college, he was so full of irrepressible fun, and 
 so famous for his brilliant rhetoric, that it seemed as if his preaching 
 might probably be of that showy and popular sort which is called 
 ♦'sensational," and which wins applause by an appeal to something 
 less noble than the reason or the conscience. At any rate, it was 
 supposed that he would not be able to keep back his humor, 
 nor to subordinate his impassioned style to that decorous and 
 reverent gravity of speech which is natural when one is speaking as 
 the ambassador of Christ, and as though, by him, God were be- 
 seeching a sinful world to be reconciled and saved. That Mr. 
 Holmes' preaching should be most of all remarkable for its 
 studiously simple and practical directness was hardly to be 
 expected. 
 
 But from the very beginning of his ministry to its untimely close, 
 he seems to have been upon his guard against such mere display of 
 brilliancy, as would have been the easiest and most natural thing 
 for him if he had not been looking higher than himself. He did not 
 so much care to be popular, but he was mightily in earnest to do 
 good. And so the popularity which came to him was solid and 
 worthy. Losing himself in his Divine Master, he was found in him 
 a faithful minister, neither barren nor unfruitful in the day when the 
 Lord called him into rest. He knew in what direction his natural 
 temperament made him most liable to error, and he held himself in 
 sober restraint lest he should exhibit his own gifts rather than the 
 gospel to the proclamation of which his gifts were religiously 
 devoted. Even his literary tastes and studies were held in check, 
 and made to occupy a subordinate place, lest they might interfere 
 with the great work which was the one commanding purpose of his 
 soul. Naturally, his tastes led him in the direction of the study of the 
 English language and literature. He was glad whenever it was 
 possible for him to make the indulgence of that taste work in with 
 the performance of his pulpit duty. One of the last books he 
 bought (when he was in London, on his way home, after his long 
 
Introdiwtion. ix 
 
 and weary search for health) was a copy of the "English Hexapla," 
 containing the six oldest English versions of the New Testament. 
 The study of the sacred text-book of the Christian faith, was all the 
 more delightful to him that he could combine with it the exploration 
 of those venerable treasures of " English undefiled." 
 
 The same directly practical endeavour by which the sermons are 
 characterised marked Mr. Holmes' pastoral service no less dis- 
 tinctly. His field was one requiring much of the kind of drudgery 
 which, by and by, grows Very irksome to a spirit intolerant of mere 
 routine, and eager for the more congenial literary labors of the 
 study and the pulpit. But he was faithful in it, and as successful as 
 he was faithful. In this department of his work, he was free to avail 
 himself of the rare gifts of his social nature. His bright and 
 pleasant face (which, to be sure, grew old and careworn, year by 
 year, but never ceased to be a bright and sunny face, even while he 
 was passing through the valley of the shadow of death) brought 
 with it a benediction into every sick-room or house of sorrow into 
 which it entered. It was easy for his people to approach him, to 
 know him, to trust and love him. He was one among them, rather 
 than over them. His simple, hearty manliness made him the 
 brother of them all, from the least of them to the greatest ; and 
 brotherly love abounded among them, as it could hardly fail to 
 abound in a church with such a minister. 
 
 So much of biographical record is contained in the two com- 
 memorative sermons which are appended to this volume, and 
 which were preached in Mr. Holmes' church within a short time 
 after his death, that a formal sketch of his life is not needed in this 
 introduction. It is only necessary to add a few words of explana- 
 tion concerning the arrangement of the volume, and the plan which 
 has been followed, in the selection of these ten discourses, rather 
 than any others, from the abundant material which of course 
 remains after an active pastorate of so many years, < 
 
 I. In order to make the volume so far as possible a comemora- 
 tive book, it was thought best not to choose the sermons of any 
 one period of Mr. Holmes' ministry, but rather to select them from 
 the earliest as well as from the latest years of his work in Jersey 
 City. Accordingly, the volume opens with his inaugural discourse, 
 preached on the Sunday following his ordination ; and closes with the 
 farewell words of affectionate counsel, spoken on the eve of of his 
 departure from the flock from whom no power but that of his im- 
 pending death could sever him. The eight remaining sermons 
 are arranged in chronological order, and will thus exhibit something 
 
X Introduction. 
 
 of the growth of his mental vigor, and of his Christian experience, 
 through his whole ministry. 
 
 2. Of course, by following this arrangement, the sermons chosen 
 are of unequal merit. Probably, if the preacher had been making 
 a selection for himself, some of these would have been omitted and 
 others of greater interest and value added. Probably, also, some 
 immaturities of thought and infelicities of expression in the earlier 
 sermons, might have revealed themselves to his critical judgment, 
 and might have been corrected. But the alterations which the 
 editor of this volume has felt at liberty to make, are of the very 
 slightest importance. It was thought better to select such sermons 
 as were specially remembered for their usefulness, by individuals to 
 whom they had been helpful, and such as were noteworthy by reason 
 of their occasional character, and to let them stand as they were 
 written. They will thus represent the average excellence of the min- 
 istry which resulted in such singular and permanent success. One 
 of the sermons, "The Pilgrim Temple Builders," has been already 
 printed, and the careful foot-notes by which the statements made in 
 it are fortified, were prepared by Mr. Holmes' own hand. The 
 Pastoral Letter also, which is included in this volume in its proper 
 chronological order, was printed by his people at the time of its 
 receipt. 
 
 3. It is scarcely necessary to call attention to the characteristic 
 excellencies of the sermons. But it may be proper to notice how 
 full they are, from first to last, of timely and earnest allusions to the 
 events of national importance and excitement, by which the minds 
 and hearts of men were stirred. Mr. Holmes' ministry at Jersey 
 City began in the spring of that memorable year 1861, when the 
 uprising of the nation for the defense of its liberty and unity was the 
 all absorbing theme of thought and action. It was with irrepressible 
 enthusiasm and vigor that he threw himself into that great cause, 
 
 •and made his pulpit ring with words of manly patriotism and zeal 
 for human rights. During this troubled year, he was almost as 
 much a soldier as a preacher. By common consent, although the 
 youngest of the clergymen of the City, he was recognised as the 
 leader of them in patriotic utterance and activity. At the time ot 
 the draft riots in New York and the adjoining cities, he was a 
 marked man. But no personal peril could restrain his indignant 
 and courageous '* Witness for the Truth." There is a story, 
 credible enough to those that knew him, that on one or two occasions 
 during those critical three days, he interfered as Moses smote the 
 Egyptian, with fist as well as voice, in behalf of the wronged and 
 
Introduction. xi 
 
 outraged poor. But, however that might be, there never was a 
 time when his position in regard to public affairs was for a moment 
 doubtful. As was well said in one of the biographical notices 
 called forth at the time of his death (we quote from The Evening 
 Journal, of Jersey City), " There was no patriotic service which he 
 was not willing to render. He would have shouldered a musket 
 and gone to the front, as a private soldier, as readily as the most 
 willing, if duty had pointed that way. In fact, he desired to go, and 
 would have gone, if he had not been hindered. When the draft 
 was ordered and the enrollment was begun, the enrolling officer 
 called at his residence, and as soon as he made his business known 
 Mr. Holmes replied *Put me down as John Milton Holmes, 
 born in the Island of Sheppy, on the east coast of England, aged 
 31 years, able-bodied and willing.' This man, with the seeds of a 
 deadly disease already planted in his unconscious breast, was eager 
 to be counted able-bodied and willing when his country called for 
 defenders. No thought of shielding himself by his sacred calling 
 occurred to him. It is a singular fact that when the draft was made 
 the name of John Milton Holmes was the first one drawn from the 
 third ward list. He was ready to respond, very anxious to go, but 
 his church and his friends, judging more wisely than he, overruled 
 him and a substitute was sent for him." His services to the cause 
 he loved so well were worth more in the pulpit, than a hundred 
 men. But his sympathy with the men in the field was always deep 
 and active. He was never more himself, (as the editor of this vol- 
 ume can bear witness) never more brimming over with enthusiasm, 
 with fun, with tenderness and self-sacrifice, than when he spent a 
 fortnight with Sherman's army in Georgia. He could never recall 
 that experience without intense delight at having had some share 
 however trivial, in army life. Indeed, the distinctively religious 
 success of his ministry in Jersey City was largely due to the fact 
 that his patriotism was so pronounced and genuine. Men who were 
 drawn towards him by his manliness, began presently to be drawn 
 towards God by his Christlikeness. 
 
 The evidences of this intense and constant patriotic earnestness 
 are apparent in almost every sermon. His illustrations are often, 
 and sometimes almost unconsciously, taken from the soldier's life or 
 from the nation's peril. His applications of truth to duty are made 
 to bear with practical directness upon political duty. His church 
 would have been a place of great discomfort for any one who, 
 during those stormy years, had any latent sympathy with treason or 
 with slavery. 
 
xii Introduction. 
 
 The result proved, with sorrowful distinctness, that Mr. Holmes' 
 intense and ceaseleas interest in the great crisis of the nation and 
 of human rights was as a consuming fire in his bones, by which he 
 was himself to be consumed. After the tragical close of the war, 
 when the reaction from the great excitement came, he began to dis- 
 cover how tired and old he was. In calmer years his ministry 
 might have been a longer one. But now, in his jaded and ex- 
 hausted state, some work a little more laborious than usual was 
 enough to bring him down. His church had grown from a mere 
 handful to be the largest congregation in the city, and to occupy a 
 position of conspicuous leadership in all good works. He began 
 to be called upon for work outside the limits of his parish, and to 
 be burdened as every successful minister must needs be burdened, 
 with many cares which the zeal or the thoughtlessness or the intru- 
 siveness of others heaped upon him. His generous good nature, 
 his ready interest in every one and every thing made him the more 
 easy victim of such over-work. How completely he was broken 
 by it was not apparent until after he had begun to rest. When he 
 started on his voyage after health and strength, it was with the con- 
 fident hope of coming back, fully equipped again for the work 
 which he so greatly loved, and which the successes of past years 
 had only made him love the more. But his few months' vacation 
 lengthened into more than a year, and when he returned, a brief 
 experiment convinced him that his work was done. Reluctantly 
 he asked, reluctantly his people granted, the formal sundering of 
 the ties which bound him to them in the Pastoral office. But how 
 imijossible it was to separate him from their loving attachment, the 
 generous provision which they made for him during the remaining 
 two years of his life may partly serve to testify. The greater part 
 of these two years was spent among his kindred, at the west, where 
 with a sick man's restlessness, he sought by change of scene and 
 change of air, from time to time, the health which nothing could 
 restore. When, at last, it was evident, even to him, that the end 
 was close at hand, he yearned to see once more the faces of his 
 flock, and breathe his last amid the scenes of his life's work and his 
 life's sacrifice. With tender care, but with great difiiculty and 
 peril, the dying man was brought back to his old home ; and the 
 few days which remained were, to him and to his friends, like days 
 of waiting in the pleasant land of Beulah, in that allegory of John 
 Bunyan which he loved so much. He died, September 20th, 187 1, 
 aged forty years, three months and twenty-eight days. When 
 he was buried, the great Tabernacle was thronged by a sorrowing 
 
Introduction. xiii 
 
 audience. His successor in the Pastoral office, (The Revd. G. B. 
 Willcox,) Revd. Dr. J. P. Thompson, of New York City ; Revd. 
 W. B. Brown, of Newark ; and Revd. George B. Bacon, of Orange 
 Valley, conducted the services. His tired body was laid to rest 
 in Wood^awn Cemetry. His widow and three little ones, of 
 whom the youngest bears his father's name, remain to love his 
 memory, and to learn, with the increasing years of loneliness, the 
 measure of their loss. 
 
 Of the two commemorative sermons appended to the volume, 
 the first was preached, on the Sunday following Mr. Holmes death, 
 in the Jersey City Tabernacle, by the pastor, Rev. G. B. Willcox ; 
 and the other, two weeks later, in the same place, by the editor of 
 this volume. 
 
 The preparation of this volume has been to the editor a pleasant 
 task. An unbroken friendship of almost twenty years, growing 
 constantly more intimate, has served to increase my admiration for 
 his genius, but still more my reverence for the self-sacrificing fidelity 
 of his devotion to duty, and my love for the growing sweetness and 
 beauty of his soul. Every day he came to be more like the Master 
 whom he served. This volume does not represent the man, but 
 only one part of his life and work. Glimpses of his fun and fancy, 
 his poetic taste and skill are only dimly given. If it were possi- 
 ble to write with greater freedom, and at greater, length the record 
 of his life, and to add selections from his familiar letters, it would 
 make a volume of the liveliest and most stimulating interest. He 
 was a good preacher. He was a sympathetic and successful pastor. 
 But, most of all, he was a genuine and largely gifted Christian man. 
 The history of the man deserves to be written. But as the partial 
 record of his ministry, it is believed this volume justifies the title I 
 have given it, " A Faithful Ministry." 
 
 GEORGE B. BACON. 
 
 Parsonage, Orange Valley, N. J., 
 June^ 1872. 
 
THE MINISTRY. 
 
THE MINISTRY. 
 
 " And I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who hath enabled me, 
 for that he counted me faithful, putting me into the ministry." 
 
 I Tim. i. 12. 
 
 These words are part of the letter which Paul, 
 an apostle of Jesus Christ, wrote to Timothy, 
 his own son in the faith, shortly after the latter 
 was ordained as minister of the first Congrega- 
 tional church in Ephesus. Timothy was a young 
 man, set over a large church, under circumstan- 
 ces of peculiar difficulty. Some of the church 
 members were men who had grown rich by 
 traffic and by handicraft, and were now high- 
 minded and covetous. Some, on the other hand. 
 Were poor slaves, whose bondage was to be 
 softened by the merciful spirit of the Gospel. 
 There was great ignorance of the way' of sal- 
 vation. Some placed their reliance upon bodily 
 exercises, some gave heed to seducing spirits, 
 
4 Sermons, 
 
 and, like the Romish church, attached great 
 importance to abstinence and celibacy. There 
 were some awful cases of backsliding and utter 
 shipwreck, of whom were Hymeneus and Alex- 
 ander. Some weak brethren were by far too 
 fond of endless discussion and vain janglings. 
 Some of the female members seem to have 
 forgotten the modesty appropriate to their sex, 
 and bartered the heavenly ornament of a meek 
 and quiet spirit for gold and pearls and costly 
 array. 
 
 There was an endowed institution for the 
 widows of the church, which demanded constant 
 supervision. There was the usual pastoral round 
 of preaching, teaching, and visiting ; and^ beside 
 this, Timothy must pay particular attention to 
 reading and the study of doctrine. To crown 
 the embarrassments of his position, the inex- 
 perienced pastor was the successor of the apostle 
 Paul, who had for three years preached at 
 Ephesus with wonderful success, teaching from 
 house to house, arguing in the synagogues, 
 healing the sick, yet finding time to support 
 himself by tent-making ; endearing himself so 
 much to the people of his charge, that when 
 after awhile he paid them a hurried visit, they 
 all wept sore, and fell on Paul's neck and 
 kissed him, sorrowing most of all for the words 
 
The Ministry, 5 
 
 which he spake, that they should see his face 
 no more. It was no small responsibility for 
 Timothy to take charge of such a church, after 
 such a man. How encouragingly the words 
 which I have quoted must have fallen on the 
 young preacher's heart, as he shrank from the 
 anxieties of his new vocation ! How he must 
 have leaped forward with fresh energy and 
 faith, as he thought of the labors, the trials 
 the perils, the responsibilities, the persecutions 
 of him whom he loved to call his father ; who 
 now, after a weary imprisonment at Rome, in- 
 stead of desponding and dissuading, exclaims 
 with the clarion voice of joy, " I thank Christ 
 Jesus our Lord, who hath enabled me, for that 
 he counted me faithful, putting me into the 
 ministry." 
 
 It seems appropriate that as I stand here, for 
 the first time, as pastor of this church; for the 
 first time feeling the full responsibility of the 
 watch and care of souls ; beginning to-day, in 
 earnest, that life-work for which I have been so 
 long yearning and preparing — it seems appro- 
 priate that I should, to-day, give some expres- 
 sion of my deep thankfulness to my Savior, 
 and present to you some reflection of my own 
 idea of what this life-work is to be — what this 
 ministry is into which I trust the Lord has 
 
6 Sermons. 
 
 put me, and what should be its characteristics, 
 What was Paul's idea of the ministry ? In 
 the preceding verse we can obtain a compre- 
 hensive answer ; it is the trusteeship of the 
 glorious gospel of the blessed God. And what 
 is this glorious gospel of the blessed God ? It 
 is the God-spell, the "glad-tidings." From whom 
 do the glad-tidings come "i From God, the foun- 
 tain of blessedness. For whom are the tidings 
 sent .'' An angel answers, " Fear not, for behold, 
 I bring you good tidings of great joy, which 
 shall be to all people." Of what do these glad 
 tidings consist } " It is a faithful saying, and 
 worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came 
 into the world to save sinners." And who 
 is there in heaven or earth that can execute so 
 vast and sublime an undertaking .? I have already 
 answered " Jesus." '' Thou shalt call His name 
 Jesus, for He shall save His people from their 
 sins." But none can forgive sins save God 
 only ! Jesus is God. He is the brightness of 
 the Father's glory and the express image of His 
 person. " In the beginning was the Word, and 
 the Word was with God, and the Word was 
 God.^' How then was he born in Bethlehem } 
 " The Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, 
 (and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the 
 only begottqn of the Father), full of grace and 
 
The Ministry. 7 
 
 truth." But this is a very mysterious doctrine? 
 Yes, " without controversy, great is the mystery 
 of godliness. God was manifest in the flesh, jus- 
 tified in the spirit, seen of angels, preached unto 
 the Gentiles, believed on in the world, received up 
 into glory." What was the immediate object of 
 the divine incarnation } It was to suffer and die. 
 Was this necessary t It was ; " and without 
 shedding of blood is no remission." Does the 
 shedding of blood appease the divine wrath } 
 No. " For God so loved the world, that He 
 gave His only begotten Son " for its redemption. 
 Why was the sacrifice of His Son necessary ? 
 Whether necessary or not the Bible reveals it 
 as a fact. But can you give no reason why it 
 was necessary.^ It was necessary to remove ob- 
 stacles in the way of pardon. It was necessary, 
 first, to maintain the authority and integrity 
 of government. Secondly, it was necessary in 
 order that God might be just, and yet forgive 
 offenders. Thirdly, it was necessary in order 
 to provide for the reformation of the guilty who 
 are pardoned. Fourthly, to secure the rights of 
 the community of the universe. Fifthly, to give 
 a proper expression to the character of the 
 Law-giver. But this is abstruse and metaphysi- 
 cal ; can you not give us your idea of the 
 atonement in a Bible nut-shell t I can. ** Being 
 
8 Sermons, 
 
 justified freely by his grace, through the re- 
 demption that is in Christ Jesus : whom God 
 hath set forth to be a propitiation, through faith 
 in His blood, to declare His righteousness for 
 the remission of sins that are past, through the 
 forbearance of God ; to declare, I say, at this 
 time His righteousness : that He might be just, 
 and the justifier of him which believeth in 
 Jesus." This passage is a Biblical system of 
 Theology. It is the substance of the glorious 
 gospel of the blessed God. 
 
 But an objector may say, Is the atonement the 
 only doctrine of the Gospel } I answer, it includes 
 all other doctrines. It is the point where all the 
 radii center. The Gospel resembles the picture by 
 the Dusseldorf painter, of the Adoration of the 
 Magi, in which all the light radiates from the glory 
 around the brow of Christ. The atonement in- 
 volves the doctrine of human guilt, for, "if one died 
 for all, then were all dead." It involves the doc- 
 trine of election, for if God provided a way of sal- 
 vation for men, then he always had a plan to save 
 them. It involves the doctrine of conversion, for 
 the atonement only removes obstacles in the way 
 of pardoning the repentant. It involves the doc- 
 trine of santification, for, "if when we were 
 enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death 
 of His Son ; much more, being reconciled, we shall 
 be saved by His life." 
 
The Ministry. 9 
 
 But is this what Paul understood by the ministry 
 of the Gospel ? It is. He continually speaks of 
 it as the Gospel of Christ ; and in his letter to the 
 Galatians, he exclaims with the greatest earnest- 
 ness, " Though we, or an angel from heaven, preach 
 any other Gospel unto you than that which we 
 have preached unto you, let him be accursed." 
 The first time we hear of his preaching, he spake 
 boldly in the name of the Lord Jesus, and straight- 
 way preached Christ in the synagogues, that He 
 is the Son of God. Twenty years afterwards he 
 writes to the Church at Corinth, '* We preach not 
 ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord." Thirty-two 
 years afterwards, the Lord Jesus was the star of his 
 hope in the Roman dungeon ; and he tells Timothy 
 of a crown which Jesus shall place upon his martyr 
 brow, in the day of His appearing. 
 
 These ideas of the Gospel which were the guid- 
 ing lights of Paul's ministerial career, I have, after 
 appropriate investigation, incorporated into my 
 own convictions. My great desire and aim will 
 be to preach Christ and Him crucified ; often indeed 
 with great plainness of speech, but always I trust 
 with earnestness, affectionateness, and sincerity. 
 I shall love to present to you the gospel as being 
 in reality " glad tidings of great joy, which shall 
 be to all people." I cannot preach, for I cannot 
 believe in a salvation which is limited in its design 
 
10 Sermons, 
 
 to an aristocracy of grace. I believe that Christ 
 was in earnest, when he said, " Come unto me, all 
 ye that labor, and are heavy laden, and I will give 
 you rest." There are no glad tidings which shall 
 be to all people, in an invitation. which mocks the 
 hope of half the race. If a martyr had been im- 
 prisoned by God for the space of a hundred years, 
 as an atonement for sin, I could well believe that it 
 was not intended to be universal in its application. 
 If an angel had voluntarily accej^ted the scourge, 
 the spear, the malefactor's cross, as a vicarious 
 redeemer, I could well imagine that this could not 
 atone for the sins of the whole of the human family. 
 But when I think of the Redeemer as the very God 
 of very God, bowing the heavens to bless the earth, 
 laying down the sceptre of everlasting sovereignty, 
 and emptying himself of attributes which had 
 evoked the praises of an adoring universe, that He 
 might become obedient unto death, even the death 
 of the cross ; then I must believe that this magni- 
 ficence of mercy was intended not for Jew or Greek 
 or for any one class of men, but for the wide, wide 
 world ; that " God so loved the world, that He 
 gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever be- 
 lieveth in Him, should not perish, but have ever- 
 lasting life." I love to think that Christ died for 
 all ; that Christ died for the millionaire and for the 
 beggar ; for the king and for the slave ; for the 
 
The Ministry. li 
 
 black and for the white ; for the young and for the 
 old ; for all tribes and kindreds and peoples and 
 tongues, in all the past and future centuries of 
 time. This is indeed glad tidings which might 
 make the whole world break forth into singing. 
 Henceforward let there be an emphatic meaning 
 in the hymn, 
 
 "Joy to the world, the Lord is come. 
 Let earth receive her king." 
 
 I love to think of religion as a system of glad- 
 ness, as imbued with the strength of holy joy ; as 
 giving a heavenly ornament to all the happiness of 
 earth ; as making friendship stronger ; as infusing 
 tenderness into domestic love; as brightening 
 nature with the smile of God ; as giving hope in 
 poverty and destitution ; as drying the tears of the 
 bereaved ; as forgiving the sins of the repentant ; as 
 making the Sabbath a holy festival commemorating 
 the ascension of Christ ; as rendering prayer a 
 visit to heaven; as causing the heart to bound 
 because God is King; as teaching that the true 
 and right must ultimately triumph ; not as veiling 
 the church with gloom, oh no ! but as kindling the 
 eye and wreathing the lip with contagious smiles ; 
 as making God's statutes our songs in the house of 
 our pilgrimage. It is a sweet work to be the mes- 
 senger of good tidings, to be the herald of the minis- 
 try of gladness. It is sweet to the listener. It is 
 
1 2 Sermons. 
 
 sweet to the ambassador. The apostle Paul quot- 
 ing from Isaiah, applies to ministers of the Gospel 
 a verse which represents a mourner, amid the ruins 
 of Jerusalem laid low by war, seeing the heralds 
 on the distant hills running and shouting the news 
 of peace. "As it written, How beautiful upon the 
 mountains are the feet of Him that bringeth good 
 tidings, that publisheth peace ; that bringeth good 
 tidings of good, that publisheth salvation ; that saith 
 unto Zion, Thy God reigneth." 
 
 And I thank Christ Jesus our Lord who hath 
 enabled me, for that He counted me faithful, putting 
 me into such a ministry. 
 
 If we examine the text with more attention, we 
 shall find that the Gospel ministry is distinguished 
 either expressly or impliedly, by certain prominent 
 characteristics. 
 
 I. This ministry must be a faithful ministry. I 
 thank Christ Jesus our Lord for that He counted 
 me faithful. Elsewhere Paul calls himself a ser- 
 vant, and that is the radical idea of the word 
 minister. The original gives us the primary sense 
 of ministry, a humble and toilsome service, as 
 of a servant running even through the dust. 
 In another place Paul counts himself a slave and 
 speaks of the bonds of the Gospel. Yet again he 
 speaks of himself as the legate of the skies, " we 
 then as ambassadors for Christ." In the passage 
 
The Ministry. 13 
 
 before us, he evidently considers himself a steward. 
 To the Corinthians he says, "Let a man so account 
 of us, as of the ministers of Christ, and stewards 
 of the mysteries of God. Moreover, it is required 
 of stewards, that a man be found faithful." 
 
 What then is to be understood by a faithful 
 minister t The main requirement evidently is, that 
 a minister shall proclaim the Gospel of Christ in 
 all its purity and fullness. The truths which he 
 utters may indeed excite the hostility of sinful 
 men, but the spirit should continually be that of 
 love. For example, if I believe that the Scriptures 
 teach the just punishment of those who on earth 
 reject, of their own free will, God's universal offer 
 of pardoning mercy, then, if I am faithful, I shall 
 proclaim that truth in its proper place and propor- 
 tion. I may do it with sensibilities which feel a 
 pang as keen as yours ; I may do it with great 
 heaviness and continual sorrow in my heart, wish- 
 ing that myself were accursed instead of you ; but 
 if I am faithful I must blow the trumpet-blast of 
 warning. 
 
 It may sometimes be necessary for the faithful 
 minister to oppose your beliefs, your prejudices, 
 your habits, your occupations, your tastes, your 
 views of what preaching ought to be. If such a 
 collision should arise, must the preacher follow the 
 beck of his love of approbation, or the golden rule 
 
14 Sermons, 
 
 of duty ? He must say with Paul, *' But 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 But he that judgeth me is the Lord." 
 
 Such collisions may arise ; but it is the part of 
 faithfulness, as I conceive it, to avoid them if pos- 
 sible. Not to dilute the truth, nor to withhold it ; 
 far, far be that from me ; but so to present the liv- 
 ing, saving principles of the Gospel as least to 
 offend the prejudices of the hearer, and most to be 
 effective in the mission of winning the minds and 
 souls of men to Christ. It seems to me the dictate 
 of common sense, that in wielding the sword of 
 the Spirit, one should use the edge and not the 
 back ; that in the pulpit one should recognize the 
 same rules of rhetoric and logic as are used in the 
 forum, and in the courts of justice. For example, 
 it is of the first importance in a secular assembly 
 to secure the good will and the attention of the 
 audience. Is not this equally important in the 
 sanctuary } Paul certainly thought so, and adapted 
 himself to his occasion. He praised the good 
 qualities which he saw in a heathen congregation. 
 At Athens he quoted from the poetry of the 
 Greeks. At Jerusalem he did not come out 
 bluntly with the great principle that the Gospel 
 was meant for the Gentile as well as the Jew, 
 which would only have exasperated those who 
 
The Ministry. 1 5 
 
 claimed to be God's peculiar people. But, apostle 
 to the Gentiles as he was (and he magnified his 
 office), he exclaimed to them (and he spake in the 
 Hebrew tongue, the sacred language of the Jews, 
 instead of the Greek with which they were all 
 familiar), "I am verily a man which am a Jew, born 
 in Tarsus, a city in Cilicia, yet brought up in this 
 city at the feet of Gamaliel, and taught according to 
 the perfect manner of the law of the fathers, and 
 was zealous toward God, as ye all are this day." 
 What wisdom ! What care to win the favor and 
 disarm the prejudices of his hearers! This must 
 be what he meant by becoming all things to all 
 men, that he might by all means save some. 
 
 Then, when the preacher, trusting in the divine 
 blessing, has used all the legitimate instruments of 
 persuasion and conviction to win men from error in 
 belief or practice, — then he must stand like a rock ! 
 Let the winds blow ; let the storm beat. There 
 let him stand while the waves break upon him. 
 Rather than yield one iota of the truth, let him die. 
 
 If a minister of the Gospel is not faithful, where 
 then shall we look for faithfulness } When the 
 British invaded Virginia, a slave at Monticello, 
 belonging to Jefferson, took his master's valuables, 
 and at the risk of starvation, guarded them under 
 the portico until the foe had disappeared. That 
 was right. The captain of a man-of-war in th^ 
 
%6 Simons, 
 
 .presence of a superior foe, defends the flag of free- 
 dom when the guns are disabled, and the hull rid- 
 dled with shot holes ; and when death is pouring in 
 at every seam and he himself is mortally wounded, 
 exclaims with his last breath, ** Don't give up the 
 ship !" That is right. The integrity of our govern- 
 ment is violated, and the great legacy of law and 
 liberty which we received from our fathers, is in 
 peril, and a million of men arise in battle array to 
 guard the sacred trust. This is right. 
 
 But the minister entrusted with the glorious 
 Gospel of the blessed God, is the guardian of the 
 liberty of the sons of God. He is to contend 
 earnestly for the faith once delivered to the saints ; 
 he is to defend the church of Christ from the 
 attacks of all her enemies. If he is not faithful, 
 the blood, not of bodies, but of souls will be re- 
 quired of him. Nations may soar to the zenith of 
 their glory, and die like meteors in the winter air : 
 but the soul of man is coeval with the life of God. 
 What shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the 
 whole world, and lose his own soul ? When I think 
 of such a responsibility, I tremble. Oh ! that I 
 might be accounted a faithful minister of the New 
 Testament; faithful in preaching, faithful in ex- 
 ample ; that when my life work is finished it might 
 be said, above my grave, what was said so smoothly 
 of another^ that — 
 
The Ministry. 17 
 
 In his duty prompt at every call, 
 
 He watched and wept ; he prayed and felt for all ; 
 
 And as a bird each fond endearment tries 
 
 To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, 
 
 He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, 
 
 Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way. 
 
 II. I remark in the next place that if the 
 ministry is a faithful ministry, we may expect 
 it, secondly, to be an able ministry. 
 
 I thank Christ Jesus our Lord who hath en- 
 abled me. To whatever portion of the sphere 
 of duty we turn our eyes, we shall perceive 
 that the ability of the ministry comes from 
 Christ. I do not mean simply that every good 
 and perfect gift comes from Him, but that in 
 addition to this obvious sense there must be a 
 special manifestation of the divine grace, flow- 
 ing out of a personal experience of the blessings 
 of the gospel. The stream can rise no higher 
 than the fountain head. If the fountain is not 
 far above the ambition, the strength, the joy of 
 the world, then the streams of Zion will soon 
 be dry. In parish life, in pulpit life, in study 
 life, the strength of God must be as constant 
 and as vital as the fresh air. When called 
 upon to sympathize with the family who are 
 weeping by the grave of hope, and give the only 
 consolation which can touch the heart ; to visit 
 the bedside of one who has long been sick and 
 
1 8 Sermons. 
 
 make that afflicted one feel the blessedness of 
 affliction, the glory of patient endurance and the 
 joy of acquiescence in the will of God ; to meet 
 a conscientious person in doubt concerning some 
 momentous decision, and give appropriate coun- 
 sel ; to guide the inquiring penitent to the cross, 
 showing him just the difficulty in his peculiar 
 circumstances ; to harmonize the different shades 
 of belief, character, disposition, and experience, 
 which are always discoverable even in a small 
 church ; to fuse all the colors of the rainbow 
 into pure white light to illume the world ; 
 above all things, to set an example worthy of 
 the flock — to be genial without being frivolous ; to 
 be faithful without being bigoted ; to be earnest 
 and not fanatical ; self-reliant, but not vain ; en- 
 ergetic, but always judicious ; to have a fitting 
 sense of the responsibility of souls, without being 
 gloomy ; to hold a calm serenity of trust, even 
 in the midst of misunderstanding, prejudice or 
 capricious opposition, saying, *' surely my judg- 
 ment is with the Lord," and waiting for the 
 final audit to show that he is free from the 
 blood of all men. All this surely requires, in 
 one whom Christ enables for His ministry, the 
 fullness of a personal experience of constant 
 communion with the great source of strength 
 and life. 
 
The Ministry. 19 
 
 According to the Greek mythology, when 
 Hercules wrestled with Anteus, he could not 
 master him. Anteus was small and Hercules 
 was large. Anteus was puny, Hercules was re- 
 nowned for invincible strength. Yet Hercules 
 was baffled, because his opponent was all the 
 while receiving thrills of strength from his 
 mother earth. So long as he touched the earth, 
 he was strong and safe. Hercules at last suc- 
 ceeded in lifting him up in the air, and then 
 Anteus in his own unaided strength was unable 
 to resist the death . grip of the conqueror. What 
 the earth was to Anteus, heaven is to the 
 Christian minister ; thence he derives his daily 
 strength, and exclaims calmly, I can do all 
 things through Christ strengthening me. 
 
 When the minister turns from the duties of 
 the week to the public ministration of the Sab- 
 bath, he can do nothing without Christ. He 
 may please the ear, gratify the taste, store the 
 memory with valuable information, convince the 
 understanding, kindle the sensibilities, but he 
 cannot convert the soul. This is the preroga- 
 tive of God. Paul must have been an eloquent 
 preacher to have won the plaudits of the 
 Athenians ; but we hear Paul saying, " I was 
 with you in weakness, and in fear, and in much 
 trembling. And my speech and my preaching 
 
20 Sermons, 
 
 was not with enticing words of man's wisdom, 
 but in demonstration of the Spirit, and of 
 power." 
 
 Intellectual qualifications of themselves are in- 
 sufficient. They are, indeed, a strong, sharp 
 weapon, but God must wield the sword. If we 
 look abroad through the world, to find the min- 
 istry which is most successful in winning souls 
 to Christ, I think we shall not always find it 
 among men of highest genius and greatest learn- 
 ing. You will find most real good accomplished 
 by men of fair, average ability, whose love to 
 Christ is a consuming fire. Dr. Chalmers surely 
 was an able minister, but he gladly confesses 
 the secret of his strength. He relates that in 
 his earlier ministry he plied his congregation 
 with enthusiastic discourses on the moral virtues, 
 and made it his chief labor thus to effect a 
 reformation of their morals. They loved the 
 preacher, and were charmed with the magic of 
 his eloquence, but they did not reform. He at 
 length felt the hollowness of such preaching, 
 and was brought to the cross for pardon and 
 peace. He at once altered the whole plan of 
 his discourses. In place of splendid moral essays, 
 he began to preach clearly and fervidly on sin, 
 guilt, and retribution ; on spiritual regeneration, 
 repentance, faith, and holy living. Multitudes 
 
The Ministry. 2i 
 
 were awakened and converted ; and not only 
 so, but there was a thorough, wide-spread and 
 permanent reformation of morals. Hencefor- 
 ward like Paul, his glory and his strength 
 were in the cross of Christ. Here then we 
 have the idea of an able ministry. It is not 
 the fascination of genius or the spoils of learn* 
 ing, or deep insight into human nature, or the 
 contagious power of personal influence. Any or 
 all of these may be consecrated to God. But 
 the ablest ministry is that which best accom- 
 plishes the end for which the ministry was 
 estabUshed ; which best feeds the flock of Christ, 
 building them up in the most holy faith ; which 
 best points out the way of salvation to the 
 lost, turning many to ^righteousness. Christ's 
 ambassador must be able most truly to say 
 with the great master and exemplar of his 
 ministry, "The spirit of the Lord is upon me, 
 because He hath annointed me to preach the 
 Gospel to the poor ; He hath sent me to heal 
 the broken-hearted, to preach deliverance to the 
 captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, 
 to set at liberty them that are bruised, to 
 preach the acceptable year of the Lord." 
 
 HI. In the third and last place> the text 
 implies that the ministry of the Gospel should 
 be a thankful ministry. "I thmik Christ Jesus 
 
22 Sermons. 
 
 our Lord." Omitting, for want of time, the pe- 
 culiar reasons for thankfulness in the experience 
 of Paul, I wish to present to you in brief, some 
 personal reasons for the gratitude which I feel 
 to-day, in consummating my relationship with 
 you as your pastor. I am sure that under the 
 circumstances there will be no indelicacy in 
 so doing. The successful completion of any im- 
 portant enterprise is always a cause for thank- 
 fulness. When Robert Fulton, after long years 
 of toil, anxiety, and hope deferred, at length 
 actually saw and sailed on the Clermont as it 
 glided swiftly and gracefully up the North river, 
 against current and wind, it was the happiest 
 hour of his life. When Isaac Newton had nearly 
 completed that long " and intricate calculation 
 which established the laws of gravitation ; when 
 he saw, with the glance of genius, that he was 
 right and all the ages had been wrong, he was 
 so overcome that he was obliged to suspend 
 the concluding work, and give vent to his 
 feelings in gratitude and praise to God. And 
 as I stand to-day and look back upon my past 
 experience, and see the way in which my God 
 has led me, I can trace with joy, at every step, 
 the working of His guiding hand preparing me 
 for this sacred hour. Born across the waters, 
 on a far distant shore, and carried when a little 
 
The Ministry. 23 
 
 child into the heart of New England to drink 
 from Massachusetts fountains the sacred waters 
 of freedom, intelligence, and religion ; early in- 
 structed in my obligations to God by the 
 teaching and the example of pious parents, one 
 of whom is still a missionary gf the cross, and 
 the other exalted to be an angel in heaven ; 
 obliged when yet a boy to leave home and seek 
 my fortune, I knew not whither, often in cir- 
 cumstances of bitter privation and friendless- 
 ness — God has always cared for me. He raised 
 up angels of deliverance. He opened doors of 
 light when all was solid dark. With an intense 
 desire to obtain an education, it had been my 
 dream, ever since I was old enough to hope, 
 that I might go to Yale College. I went there 
 without academical preparation, without means, 
 without any reasonable prospect of success. But 
 God led me by a way I knew not, and trans- 
 lated my dreams into reality. When, in my 
 ignorance and waywardness, I did not acknowl- 
 edge God's sovereign care and love, when I 
 was seeking only earthly gratification, and was 
 without hope and without God in the world. 
 He sweetly drew my Wandering will, and shewed 
 me the blessedness of sins forgiven through the 
 sacrifice of Christ. He enabled me to record 
 as the expression of my hope, these words of 
 
24 Sermons. 
 
 consecration : '' O Lord God, I believe Thou 
 lovest me, and I love Thee in a feeble way 
 indeed. I desire to love Thee supremely. I 
 desire communion with Thee, and take courage 
 through the life and death of Christ. O God, 
 I dedicate mysejf to Thee. I will love Thee, 
 serve Thee, trust Thee, praise Thee, glorify Thee, 
 in my body and in my soul, now in this life 
 and the life that is to come. Oh, help me thus 
 to do for the sake of Jesus Christ." 
 
 Gradually my tastes and desires pointed towar4 
 the ministry, and I gave up the study of the law, 
 which had greatly attracted me. Every kind 
 of obstacle and impediment has been removed, 
 by God's blessing upon my strong endeavors, and 
 I stand here to-day, a living witness of God's pre- 
 serving and redeeming mercy, testifying with the 
 apostle of old, " Unto me, who am less than the 
 least of all saints, is this grace given> that I should 
 preach among the Gentiles the unsearchable riches 
 of Christ." 
 
 I am thankful for the opportunities which are 
 presented in the ministry for the quickening of the 
 intellect ; for its discipline by conflict with error, 
 and communion with great minds and everlasting 
 truths. I am thankful for the wide fields of in- 
 fluence in which I can minister to the sorrows and 
 sufferings of humanity. I am thankful for the 
 
The Ministry, 25 
 
 social sympathies which cluster around me con- 
 tinually ; that I am welcomed into a realm of love, 
 which, in the midst of worldly selfishness and 
 uproar, lies embosomed like an isle of the blessed 
 in an ocean of storm. 
 
 I am thankful that my ministry has fallen to me 
 in these blessed and eventful times, when the 
 nations are in training for the great battle of God 
 Almighty — when I can preach the glorious Gospel 
 in all its adaptations to business, to government, 
 to wars, to freedom, to slavery, and a host of 
 kindred topics whose greatness is itself an in^ 
 spiration. 
 
 I am thankful that my lot has been cast in a city; 
 a city throbbing with the life-blood of the metropo- 
 lis of America, with its great fields of usefulness 
 where immortal men stand thick as the ripening 
 grain of autumn. 
 
 I am thankful that I am to live in this city, 
 among this people of my choice ; that I am to be 
 enriched with the treasures of your supporting 
 love ; that the incense of my hopes and prayers 19 
 to ascend with yours to the everlasting throne ; 
 that in baptism and in communion, in joy and in 
 affliction, in sickness and in health, at bridal and 
 at burial, in social and in sanctuary intercourse, 
 and often, I trust, in blessed seasons of religious 
 revival, we may be able to praise God together, and 
 
26 Sermons. 
 
 to proclaim, each in our own way, the glorious 
 Gospel of the blessed God. 
 
 A devoted servant of God, one of the original 
 missionaries in northern New York, who had en- 
 dured all the shady side of ministerial life, preached 
 a sermon before the synod of Albany, in the 
 course of which he said, " Brethren, I have for 
 fifty-one years preached the Gospel of Christ in 
 the midst of some hardships and many comforts ; 
 and though I may truly say that I do not fear 
 death, but look upon it with great calmness, yet if 
 it should please God to renew my term of office, I 
 would joyfully accept a commission to preach the 
 Gospel clear up to the day of judgment!" How 
 long or how short my ministry shall be, is known 
 only to him who has put me in it. But whether it 
 is to be half a century, or a brief experience like 
 that of Robertson, or Spencer, or Kingman Nott, 
 "like an angel's wing in the opening cloud, just 
 seen and then withdrawn," I hope I shall die in the 
 harness, and that my last words like my first words, 
 shall be, a message of glad tidings of great joy 
 unto all people I Then in the last great day, I may 
 join my humble voice with that of Robert Hall, 
 and exclaim, " Is this the end of all my labors, my 
 toils and watchings, my expostulations with sinners 
 and my efforts to counsel the faithful ? And is this 
 the issue of the ministry under which I was often 
 
The Ministry. 27 
 
 ready to sink ? And this the glory of which I 
 heard so much, understood so little, and announced 
 to my hearers with lisping accents and a stammer- 
 ing tongue? Well might it be styled *thc glory to 
 be revealed.' Auspicious day ! on which I em- 
 barked in this undertaking, on which the love of 
 Christ with a sweet and sacred violence impelled 
 me to feed his sheep and feed his lambs. With 
 what emotion shall we, who being entrusted with 
 so holy a ministry shall find mercy to be faithful, 
 hear that voice from heaven, *Be glad and rejoice, 
 and give honor to him : for the marriage of the 
 Lamb is come, and his wife hath made herself ready.* 
 With what rapture shall we recognize among an 
 innumerable multitude, the seals of our ministry, 
 the persons whom we have been the means of con- 
 ducting to that glory !" 
 
SATISFIED IN HEAVEN 
 
SATISFIED IN HEAVEN. 
 
 ** I shall be satisfied when I awake with thy likeness." 
 
 Psalm xvii. 15. 
 
 With the clear glance of faith this psalm looks 
 through the grave into the land of the redeemed. 
 It looks away from human associations to the like- 
 ness of God, away from sleep to the blest awaken- 
 ing, away from the longings of mortality to the 
 fruition of every hope. David opens for us the 
 door of heaven. 
 
 When we think of heaven we are often left in a 
 golden haze of wonder. We hear indistinct sounds 
 of angelic music. We have a dim conception of 
 the glories of the land that is very far off. The 
 Bible does not give us a handbook of the celestial 
 country; it is designed only to guide us on the 
 journey of human life. When we reach the other 
 side of death's river we must have some one to 
 take us by the hand, as the Italian poet was led 
 through the blissful scenes of paradise by the love 
 of Beatrice. 
 
32 Sermons. 
 
 The scattered glimpses which we get throughout 
 the Bible are enough to make us shout for joy. 
 But after all, we often wonder whether in heaven 
 we shall do this, or know this, or have this ; for 
 example, whether we shall spend our existence in 
 singing ; whether we shall recognize our friends ; 
 and other very natural inquiries of the same sort, 
 till we scarcely know how to answer our asking 
 hearts. 
 
 But all such questions are answered in our text. 
 The text does not deal with specific inquiries, but 
 it goes to the bottom of all our longings and ques- 
 tionings by assuring us that in that glorious and 
 divine abode we shall all be satisfied. 
 
 All men will not be satisfied with exactly the 
 same things any more than they are here. The 
 souls of men will doubtless be purified and en- 
 larged, but they will retain their individual peculi- 
 arities in heaven. There will be no jarring, no 
 friction; all will be sympathy and love. But 
 sympathy and love do not require sameness and 
 identity. In the family we find the intensest love 
 between those whose general aims and beliefs coin- 
 cide, but who in temperament and experience are ' 
 the opposites of each other. , That is, there is unity 
 in the essential and diversity in the non-essential. 
 There is the diversity of the soprano and the bass, 
 but the unity of the resultant harmony. So in 
 
Satisfied in Heaven. 33 
 
 heaven our souls will have an individual character 
 which shall be consistent with the deepest sym- 
 pathy and affection. 
 
 If then this individuality shall adhere to us after 
 we have crossed the threshold of death, it is evi- 
 dent that we shall not all be satisfied with the same 
 scenes and occupations. But we shall all be satis- 
 fied. Heaven is a place of infinite variety. The 
 God of heaven is the God of nature. He made 
 and he fills both. But what is the great character- 
 istic of nature.^ It is endless diversity. In all 
 the millions upon millions of natural objects it may 
 be doubted whether there are any two exactly alike. 
 There are upon the earth a thousand millions of 
 human beings. Since the birth of Adam there 
 have been millions of millions ; but it is not sup- 
 posable that in all those countless multitudes there 
 ever have been two who exactly resemble each 
 other. Even in some rare cases of twin brothers, 
 the mother can always detect a difference. There 
 is not a leaf of the forest that has its exact mate. 
 There is not an insect, a flower, a blade of grass, a 
 grain of sand, but that the microscope can assign 
 to it a form and peculiarity of its own. No two 
 days were ever just equal in summer beauty. The 
 ocean never kept the same expression for many 
 hours together. The world is a great kaleidoscope 
 into which the naturalist gazes. It is always beau- 
 
34 SermonSi 
 
 tiful, but every time he looks there is something 
 different from what he saw before. The idea that 
 every one, in order to be happy, must be just like 
 every other, gains no support from what we know of 
 nature or of domestic experience. The highest hap- 
 piness comes from originality and spontaneity, indi- 
 vidually controlled by the presidency of love ; in 
 other words, by being natural in a loving way. This 
 my is idea of a family, my idea of a church, my idea 
 of heaven. It is a glorious liberty. One star may 
 differ from another in glory. One may, like Mer- 
 cury, nestle in the bosom of the sun ; one may, 
 like Venus, shine illustrious as the herald of the 
 dawn ; one may be like Jupiter, blazing with his 
 six-fold moonlight ; others may be feeble, wander- 
 ing asteroids with just a spark of light ; but all 
 will derive their glory from the Sun of Righteous- 
 ness, and all will roll in the orbit of heaven obe- 
 dient to the gravity of love. 
 
 If these conclusions as to the infinite individ- 
 uality of the redeemed are correct, then every one 
 may be said to have a heaven of his own. Here 
 upon the earth he can picture his heaven, and the 
 Lord God will give it to him. For he shall be 
 satisfied. Not satisfied precisely in the same way 
 that I shall be satisfied or that you will be, but it 
 is enough that we shall be satisfied when we awake 
 to heaven. 
 
Satisfied in Heaven. 35 
 
 Most persons, for example, have a love of music. 
 The concord of sweet sounds allures them away 
 from trouble into far off lands of peace. Some 
 have the greater love for the instrument, for 
 the stirring notes of military music, or for the 
 symphonies of Handel and Beethoven, heaving 
 the bosom of the enchanted atmosphere as they 
 roll from the pipes of a cathedral organ. Some 
 love the human voice, and prefer to hear the 
 great congregation with heart and soul offering 
 up to God the incense of their songs. Music 
 is the expression of triumph. It is the natural 
 sound of joy. When the soul is happy the heart 
 can but sing. Music means happiness. Some 
 not understanding this symbolism, not having 
 an ear for music, and not able to sing a verse 
 to save them, have an unconscious dissatisfac- 
 tion with the idea that angels do nothing but 
 sing and play. But the idea of the music of 
 heaven is not that the redeemed will sing hal- 
 lelujahs in order that they may be happy. It 
 is that they shall be so full of joy and bless- 
 edness that they cannot help singing for joy. 
 
 There are many who cannot sing audibly, 
 here, because their vocal organs are not flexible 
 and obedient ; they did not learn when they 
 were children : but their hearts are in tune. 
 They sing with the spirit and join the praise, 
 
36 Sermons. 
 
 although, like Hannah in her prayers, the voice 
 is not heard. When they shall assume the pure 
 and glorified body it will be like a living song. 
 It is said that two children were one day seen 
 very ill in the same room. The older of the 
 two was heard frequently attempting to teach 
 the younger to pronounce the word " Halle- 
 lujah," but without success. The dear little one 
 died before he could repeat it. When the 
 brother was told of his death, he was silent for 
 a moment, and then looking up at his mother, 
 said "Johnny can say 'Hallelujah' now, mother." 
 In a few hours the two little brothers were 
 united in heaven singing hallelujahs together. 
 This is the way in which death will loose the 
 stammering tongues of many who never sang 
 on earth, but who shall join in the new song 
 of rapture, victory and salvation. Men will not 
 sing all the time, in heaven, any more than 
 they will sing all the while in the Sabbath ser- 
 vice of earth, or when they are happy with the 
 loved ones at home. The music of heaven will 
 doubtless be a great source of joy to those who 
 like music, for it will be the utmost beauty and 
 fascination of the great Master of song, inspired 
 by the vision of God and translated with un- 
 imaginable meaning by the skill of shining ones 
 upon celestial instruments. 
 
Satisfied in Heaven. 37 
 
 The longing of the musician's soul shall be 
 satisfied ; but the full idea of heavenly music, 
 and one which finds a response in every soul 
 is, that God's music is not so much the means 
 of happiness as the result of it ; it is the shout 
 and song of those that cannot contain their 
 glory. As I said before, the fact that so much 
 is said of the music of heaven is only a vivid 
 assurance of the perfect joy of heaven, and that 
 when we reach there we shall all be satisfied. 
 
 In the next place, the text explains the hap- 
 piness of the future world to those who are 
 comparatively ignorant. It must never be for- 
 gotten when we are talking of the felicities of 
 heaven, that men have the greatest possible 
 variety of disposition, intelligence and taste. 
 Now apply this principle to the joys of knowl- 
 edge. Some assert truly that in heaven one 
 great source of happiness will be th'^ acquisition 
 of knowledge. But there are two sides to this 
 view. A plain, uneducated, but sincere Chris- 
 tian would not be likely to entertain very ex- 
 alted ideas of heaven by reading Dr. Dick's 
 Philosophy of a Future State. He speaks of the 
 joys of studying astronomy and mathematics, and 
 spending eternity in studying the secrets of the 
 book of nature. But to the poor contraband or 
 heathen who has just learned to love Christ, 
 
38 Sermons. 
 
 this would be the gloomiest possible idea of 
 heavenly blessedness. To fix the mind for an 
 hour upon anything requiring mental exertion is 
 monotonous and irksome in the extreme. The 
 little boy, who has the instructive dread of 
 books, would not be likely to be attracted by 
 a heaven which should be only the upper de- 
 partment of an infinite school. Neither would 
 those who have little taste for mathematics like 
 the thought of an eternity of cyphering. One 
 would be almost like the theological student who 
 asked Dr. Hopkins what language we should 
 speak in heaven. " Hebrew," said the Doctor ; 
 " we shall doubtless all speak Hebrew in heaven." 
 " Then," said the poor student who had been 
 racking his brains for months over a Hebrew 
 grammar, " I don't think I shall enjoy myself in 
 heaven." 
 
 Now then, the text assures us that, whatever may 
 be the state of intellect or the desire for knowl- 
 edge, we shall all be satisfied in heaven. In some 
 way or other God will make all happy. He does 
 not state in His revelation just how He will do this, 
 because then He would have to give a revelation to 
 every individual, so that the world, I suppose, would 
 not have contained the books which told the dif- 
 ferent forms of happiness. But He has compressed 
 the whole of millions of promises in one inspired 
 
Satisfied in Heaven. 39 
 
 line, which every one can repeat over for himself, 
 "When I awake I shall be satisfied." 
 
 There will be a peculiar joy in heaven to those 
 who are great in intellect. The astronomer can 
 revel forever amid planets and systems, treading, 
 like Newton, through the firmament. When that 
 great philosopher had, after years of toil, discovered 
 the law of gravitation, he was for some time silent 
 and then broke out in thanksgiving to God. The 
 happiness of Newton will doubtless consist very 
 largely in tracing out the great laws which govern 
 all created things. So the geologist will find a 
 peculiar joy in tracing out the order of Divine 
 thought in the fossil creations of unnumbered 
 worlds. The botanist will, like Linnaeus after he 
 had discovered forty thousand mosses and a hun- 
 dred thousand plants, doubtless often cry with 
 wondering joy, I have seen the footsteps of the 
 Lord and am astonished. The chemist will pierce 
 the arcana of the elements and shout out to the 
 smiling angels " I have found it ! I have found it !" 
 The naturalist will study the animal tribes, as 
 Adam did when the Lord God brought them to 
 him to see what he would call them. Heaven will 
 be a glorious place for the loftiest minds of earth. 
 But it will be also a glorious place for the child, 
 and for the poor convert who can just spell out the 
 name of Jesus. I suppose that we shall all grow 
 
40 Sermons, 
 
 in knowledge according to our desires ; that we 
 shall all discover what we desire to know. When 
 old Father Henson reached Canada he did not 
 know how to read the Bible. He had been a slave 
 all his life and now was sixty years old. But his 
 little son soon learned to read and he wanted his 
 father to learn also. " No, my son ; I am too old." 
 " But won't you try r " I have no one to teach 
 me, my son." " Then I'll be your teacher," and so 
 the old black man sat down at the feet of his own 
 son and learned to read the Bible. Carvosso, the 
 Methodist preacher who preached to the colliers 
 like a flame of fire, could not read till he was past 
 thirty. Socrates learned music in his old age. 
 Robert Hall at sixty sat down to learn Italian, that 
 he might read the wanderings of Dante through 
 heaven and hell. So doubtless it will be true, 
 in heaven, that all our desires for knowledge 
 will be gratified, and that, although it may be 
 a little late in life, we shall begin to learn a 
 thousand things for which we had no time on 
 earth. Many a pale enthusiast, bending by his 
 lonely lamp until the lamp of life was spent, 
 shall awake to smile in the infinite treasures 
 of knowledge. And on the other hand, for the 
 lowly person with no taste or capacity for 
 knowledge, heaven shall not be void of happi- 
 ness. God has a heaven fur all those who love 
 
Satisfied in Heaven. 4 1 
 
 Him. He has a heaven for the ignorant and 
 feeble-minded. Although they know nothing of 
 history, they know the God that reigns in 
 history. They may know nothing of astronomy, 
 but it will be enough for them to watch the 
 Star of Bethlehem. They may not be able to 
 chisel out the footsteps of the ^Creator in the 
 geology of the primeval creation, but they can 
 think with joy upon Him who is the Rock of 
 Ages. They may be ignorant of natural science, 
 as Adam was before he saw the animals, but 
 they can give thanksgiving for victory to Him 
 who is the Lion of the tribe of Judah. They 
 may know nothing of plants and flowers, from 
 the cedar of Lebanon to the hyssop that 
 groweth by the wall, but still they may exult 
 forever in the knowledge and love of Him whose 
 name is the rose of Sharon and the lily of the 
 vaUey. 
 
 There is no distinction between Jew and Greek, 
 ignorant and learned, bond and free. Every 
 loving soul shall be satisfied in heaven. 
 
 In a similar manner the text applies to all 
 those longings of the soul which belong to in- 
 dividual rather than to universal experience. 
 Some have a longing for things beautiful, and 
 revel in the dreams of imagination, rising far 
 from earthly scenes as on early wings. Such 
 
42 Sermons. 
 
 souls will be satisfied by the beauty which they 
 will find in the many mansions of the Father's 
 house. The sacred writers seem to labor to 
 select glorious imagery to convey the idea of 
 unimaginable beauty. They use the most vivid 
 symbols of the beautiful. They speak of pearls 
 for gates, of streets of solid gold, of walls of 
 jasper, the clearness of pure glass, the radiance 
 of the sapphire and the emerald, and the varied 
 hues of precious stones ; of light surpassing the 
 sun and moon ; of living fountains, the tree of 
 life, palms of victory. Such are the scattered 
 intimations which we have of that Paradise of 
 God, of which the bloom and beauty of Eden 
 were only an imperfect type. 
 
 We may well believe, therefore, that they whose 
 souls are attuned to nature, and Vv^ho drink it in as 
 life, will find sublimity and beauty such as this 
 world knows not of This world, beautiful as 
 it is, with its garniture of forest and mountain, 
 the pearl and purple of its setting suns, its 
 caverns hung with stalactites, its cataracts notch- 
 ing the centuries in the rocks, and its tropic 
 landscapes faint with flowers, where 
 
 " Strange bright birds on their starry wings, 
 Bear the rich hues of all glorious things ;" 
 
 this world, beautiful as it is, is the heir of a 
 curse and is disfigured by the hand of sin. But 
 
Satisfied in Heaven. 43 
 
 eye hath never seen heaven's beauty nor mortal 
 heart imagined it. Out of Zion, the perfection 
 of beauty, God shall shine ; and then the long- 
 ing of many an imprisoned soul for something 
 grander and fairer than it ever has seen on 
 earth, shall be forever satisfied. They shall see 
 the palace of the universe ; they shall see the 
 King in his Beauty. 
 
 Many a soul, in this world of work, longs for 
 something more needful than beauty to those 
 that are weary. They long for rest. Some, to 
 be sure, care not for repose. They are happy 
 only in activity, and labor to them is sweet. 
 Such spirits will find infinite spheres in which 
 they may exercise their emancipated powers in 
 the service of God. But there are many others, 
 as I said, who sigh for rest. They are like a 
 poor woman, whose life had been a long and 
 stern battle with poverty and work, who said 
 she could not be happy even in heaven till she 
 could lie down a little while and rest. Another 
 who had been a wanderer as well as a worker, 
 after half a century of toil and care lay down 
 to die and said to those who watched her 
 parting breath, " Oh ! I am so tired ! I am so 
 tired !" 
 
 To such a weary soul, how sweet the promise 
 comes of the rest that remaineth for the people 
 
44 Semtons. 
 
 of God! Tired workers in dingy factories from 
 dawn till dark ; tired workers in cotton-fields 
 and rice-swamps, without holiday or hope ; tired 
 seamstresses sewing their own shrouds ; tired 
 mothers supporting by self-denying work the 
 fatherless households ; tired children grown prema- 
 turely old in doing work beyond their strength ; 
 all that tired world that scarce finds chance for 
 sleep, roused ere the dawn by the shrill sum- 
 mons of ceaseless toil — the revelation gives you 
 glad tidings. Soon the happy season of vaca- 
 tion shall burst upon you, like a summer day 
 in the breezy shade of the slumbering woods, 
 where the brooks gurgle in their coolness and 
 the anemones are blooming in the tufts of 
 moss. There is rest for the weary. Ye shall 
 be satisfied when ye wake in His likeness. As 
 ye sigh or faint in the harness of life-long toil, 
 sing at your work ; sing of heaven — 
 
 *' There I shall bathe my weary soul 
 In seas of heavenly rest ; 
 And not a wave of trouble roll 
 Across my peaceful breast." 
 
 There are those that long for sympathy which 
 they cannot find on earth. Amid all the bustle 
 and the crowd of life, they feel that their true 
 character and motives are misapprehended and 
 misconstrued. They are conscious of integrity, 
 devotion to the voice of God, and good will to 
 
Satisfied in Heaven. 45 
 
 their fellow men. But a peculiarity of organi- 
 zation or strange combination of circumstances 
 makes them suspected, or at least unappreci- 
 ated, as to their piety and benevolence. They 
 cannot explain to the world ; they are out of 
 tune with it. They are made miserable by the 
 thought that no one knows their heart. The 
 world to them is like a deaf man engaged in con- 
 versation. It catches only a part of their mean- 
 ing, and often what it does catch is entirely 
 dislocated and gives an erroneous idea. Like 
 the deaf man, the world does its best. It is 
 not from want of good intention so much as 
 from some peculiarity in the case, that many 
 men go through life alone and silent, but 
 with inexpressible longing for a circle of 
 friendship where the hunger of love might be 
 satisfied. They feel that they are starving on 
 the husks of outward appearance, when above 
 all things they desire a crumb of vital sympa- 
 thy. They mingle in the tide that pours along 
 the street, and they say to themselves, no one 
 of all this multitude cares for me. They go to 
 church, and here, where the electric waves of 
 Christian affection would naturally touch and 
 gladden the heart, every one seems self-invol- 
 ved and distant. It seems a relief to hear the 
 blended voices of Christian worship, and if the 
 
4^ Sermons. 
 
 congregation unite in the singing and the 
 stranger knows how to sing a little, he joins 
 in the sympathetic service and, without really 
 knowing why, he feels relief and pleasure. It 
 is because he is pining for sympathy. There 
 are various minor things, which are outside of 
 joy, with which he is in harmony with those 
 he meets. But the great, deep want of religious 
 sympathy is all unsupplied. His religious na- 
 ture is locked up like a monarch's crown. He 
 is not satisfied. Oh, for a world where we may 
 beat in unison ! Oh, for a world where we can 
 see eye to eye ! Oh, for a world where we shall 
 know even as we are known ! 
 
 We sometimes ask ourselves the question, 
 Shall we know our earthly friends in heaven } 
 and by this we mean only the external re- 
 cognition. I answer. Yes. But more vital is 
 the question. Shall we know each others' hearts 
 just as they are.? And to this I answer. Yes: 
 
 " W^e shall know each others eyes, 
 And the thoughts that in them lay, 
 When we meet above the skies 
 That pass away." 
 
 Every heart shall be spontaneous, vocal, joyful; 
 and the shadows of earthly coldness and restraint 
 shall be dissipated in the clear shining of the 
 heavenly light. 
 
 Every silent, longing soul stands now like the 
 
Satisfied in Heaven, 47 
 
 statue of Memnon waiting for the dawn. Ac- 
 cording to the legend, it stood near the Egpytian 
 city cold and dumb all through the night with 
 its face to the east. Then, as soon as the 
 morning sun sent forth its earliest flush, some 
 secret spring of utterance was touched, and made 
 to greet the sun-light with a joyful sound. 
 Many men and women are Memnonian statues : 
 through the long night they wait in solitude 
 and silence. They have not found the dawn 
 of sympathizing love. But when the light of 
 heaven falls upon their glorified foreheads, then 
 for the first time, their hearts will utter an ar- 
 ticulate response. They will emit the melody 
 as heaven throws back the dawn ; they shall 
 drink in the fellowship of kindred and the com- 
 munion of saints ; and in the dialect of angels 
 they shall murmur. My God, I thank Thee— 
 now I am satisfied ! 
 
 I shall not undertake to enumerate all the 
 ' longings of the human soul which shall find 
 their fruition in heaven. My design was rather 
 to throw back your attention upon your own 
 selves, and, giving you the outline of future 
 blessedness, allow each one to fill it up for 
 himself Therefore I have taken a few illustra- 
 tions of feelings which are experienced by 
 many persons, but which are by no means go- 
 
48 Sermons. 
 
 extensive with humanity, in order to bring out 
 the meaning of the text ; to show that, whatever 
 the Christian's ideas of happiness may be, they 
 will in heaven be fully met and gratified if 
 they supply a real want of his soul. 
 
 There are wants far deeper than any which 
 I have enumerated. There is that longing to 
 be delivered from suffering and pain and human 
 agony, which now, in these sad times of war, 
 rests like a nightmare upon us, and makes us 
 feel a personal concern in every brave man 
 who comes back to us maimed or wounded. 
 There is a longing to be far away from the 
 injustice of man to man. We know what 
 Cowper meant when he exclaimed — 
 
 " Oh, for a lodge in some vast wilderness, 
 Some boundless contiguity of shade, 
 Where rumor of oppression and deceit 
 Might never reach me more ! My ear is pain'd, 
 My soul is sick with ev'ry day's report 
 Of wrong and outrage with which earth is filled. 
 It does not feel for man." 
 
 We instinctively feel that we never can find that 
 blessed spot for which our hearts are sighing, 
 until we reach the place where men are holy. 
 Instead of exclaiming in despair. Oh, what a 
 World this is ! we can look through the tele- 
 scope of faith and say. Oh, what a world that 
 is ! The world of justice and of love> where 
 God's will is the law of the land ; where the 
 
Satisfied in Heaven. 49 
 
 wicked cease from troubling and the weary are 
 at rest. 
 
 There is longing for the lost purity. God 
 gave men the pearl of great price. They have 
 lost it and cannot find it. They go up and 
 down the world, seeking for it in the nooks 
 and corners, feeling in the caves of worldliness, 
 diving in the oceans of care. But they cannot 
 find the pearl because they are blind, sin-blind. 
 We all know what dissatisfaction it gives us 
 when we have mislaid or lost something which 
 we value.. We are uneasy till we find it. 
 We talk of something else, but the lost valuable 
 troubles us. We busy ourselves with our oc- 
 cupations, but still we think of our loss. We 
 cannot sleep in quietness, we cannot enjoy the 
 blessings around us, because the treasure is 
 gone. So it is with men who have lost the 
 pearl. The Christian has found the goodly pearl 
 of justification. But the kingly pearl of perfect 
 purity which our ancestors wore on the world's 
 birthday, this alas ! is gone, we know not whithen 
 But we know the joy of finding. There is 
 nothing in the world so exquisitely satisfying 
 as the recovery of a lost treasure, Even if it 
 is nothing but a trifle of earth, it gives us a 
 momentary peace. But the finding of the lost 
 purity will be like life from the dead. Here w6 
 
 3 
 
50 Sermons. 
 
 are environed by temptations. We breathe the 
 smoke and dust. Our baptismal robes are drag- 
 gled and soiled. We love, indeed, those who are 
 most spiritual ; we long to be spiritually minded ; 
 the spirit is willing — but the flesh is weak. 
 Sometimes we feel that we are chained to the 
 pollution of sin as the tyrant Mezentius bound 
 the living prisoner to the putrid corpse, foot 
 to foot, hand to hand, face to face. We cry 
 out in agony — O wretched man that I am ! 
 who shall deliver me from the body of this 
 death > 
 
 Then we think of Christ. Then we think of 
 heaven. Then we dwell upon the land where 
 this mortal shall put on immortality, and this cor- 
 ruption shall put on incorruption. Then we think 
 of the purity that shall be ours in the vision 
 of God. We rejoice, when we lie upon the 
 couch of sickness, that there is -a land in which 
 the inhabitant shall not say, I am sick. We 
 rejoice, in the hour of weakness, that the time 
 is coming when we shall be strong in every 
 faculty and be contented with what we do. We 
 rejoice, on the verge of the shadow of death, 
 when our clasping hand is torn from the object 
 of deepest love, that the time of eternal reunioii 
 shall soon come, and the Lord God shall wipe 
 away all tears from off all faces. But we rejoice 
 
Satisfied in Heaven. 51 
 
 above all in the hope that we shall one day 
 find the lost purity and live in conscious, per- 
 fect harmony with the intuitions of our highest 
 reason and the holy will of God. 
 
 This is joy. This is the blessedness of the 
 redeemed. The fountain can hold no more than 
 the pearl, — then it overflows in spontaneous 
 music and the seraphic song. This is the 
 meaning of the holiness of heaven. This is what 
 John means when he says, God is the light of 
 the redeemed. This is what Payson meant when 
 he said, if he saw Christ he should hardly want 
 to see any one else. 
 
 Dr. Clark in his travels, speaking of the 
 companies that were traveling from the East to 
 Jerusalem, represents the procession as being 
 very long ; and after climbing over the extended 
 and heavy ranges of hills that bounded the 
 way, some of the foremost at length gained 
 the highest summit, and stretching up their 
 hands in gestures of joy, cried out, " The holy 
 city ! The holy city !" and fell down and 
 worshiped, while those who were behind pressed 
 forward to see the vision. So when we stand 
 upon the mountain-top of death and look forward 
 without a cloud upon the clear vision of the 
 opening paradise, it will be the holiness of heaven 
 that will put wings under our hearts, and halle- 
 
52 Sermons. 
 
 lujahs upon our lips. Holiness is the only joy. 
 If we can only be holy, we shall surely be happy. 
 And the immortal thirst for happiness can be 
 quenched only at the streams whose flowing makes 
 glad the city of our God. Then the deep longings 
 of our spiritual nature shall be perfected. Purity 
 and blessedness shall fill the heart of those who 
 shall enter into the Holy City. Then our aspira- 
 tions shall be forever satisfied. 
 
 '' Not here ! not here ! Not where sparkling waters 
 Fade into mocking sands as we draw near, 
 Where, in the wilderness, each footstep falters ; 
 * I shall be satisfied ' — but oh ! not here. 
 
 Not here — where all the dreams of bliss deceive us, 
 Where the worn spirit never gains its goal ; 
 
 Where, haunted ever by the thought that grieves us, 
 Across us floods of bitter memory roll. 
 
 There is a land where every pulse is thrilling 
 With rapture earth's sojourners may not know j 
 
 Where heaven's repose the weary heart is stilling. 
 And peacefully life's time-tossed currents flow. 
 
 Far out of sight, while yet the flesh enfolds us, 
 Lies the fair country where our hearts abide ; 
 
 And of its bliss is nought more wondrous told us 
 Than these few lines, ' I shall be satisfied.' 
 
 Satisfied ! Satisfied ! The spirit's yearning 
 
 For sweet companionship with kindred minds ; 
 The silent love that here meets no returning, 
 The inspiration which no language finds. 
 
 Shall they be satisfied ? The soul's vague longing. 
 The aching void which nothing earthly fills ; 
 
Satisfied in Heaven. 53 
 
 Oh, what desires upon my soul are thronging, 
 As I look upward to the heavenly hills. 
 
 Thither my weak and weary steps are tending ; 
 
 Saviour and Lord ! With thy frail child abide ! 
 Guide me toward home, where, all my wandering ending, 
 
 I then shall see Thee and be satisfied !" 
 
SEEN OF ANGELS 
 
SEEN OF ANGELS. 
 
 *' Seen of angels." 
 
 I Tim. hi. i6. 
 
 Next in interest to the question, '' Wiiat think 
 ye of Christ ^ " is the question, What do the 
 other inhabitants of creation think of Him } The 
 word of God speaks of beings that are in heaven 
 and that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether 
 they be thrones or dominions or principalities or 
 powers. It speaks of angels, the messengers of 
 mercy and salvation, of Zoa or living ones, (the 
 word so unfortunately rendered beasts, in Reve- 
 lation), of cherubim or knowing ones, of seraphim 
 or burning ones. It speaks of Michael and of 
 Gabriel. It speaks of countless hosts of shining 
 ones, excelling in strength, radiant with immortal 
 youth, endowed with wondrous knowledge, 
 possessed of consummate holiness, dwelling in the 
 presence-chamber of God, and singing before the 
 sapphire colored throne with saintly shout and 
 solemn jubilee. What do the angels think of 
 
58 Sennons. 
 
 Christ ? Have they seen Him ? Do they know 
 Him ? How, from their nearer presence and 
 superior light, does Christ appear to them ? As we 
 surround the mercy-seat this morning and welcome 
 the holy festival which is the monument of a 
 crucified Redeemer, let us try and soar above the 
 smoke and stir of earthly things, and see Christ as 
 the angels have seen Him. Let us meditate upon 
 this theme— »THE angels' vision of christ. 
 
 The angelic host first saw Christ as the glory of 
 the Father. God is the king eternal, immortal, 
 and invisible. He dwelleth in light which is 
 unapproachable. No one hath seen God at any 
 time. Moses saw not His face, but only the trail of 
 His departing glory. When Isaiah says he saw 
 the Lord sitting upon a throne high and lifted up, 
 he saw not the God paternal and absolute, but the 
 Messiah ; for St. John declares that the vision 
 pertained to Jesus when he says, " These things 
 said Esaias, when he saw His glory, and spake of 
 Him." The eye of an angel never gazed on the 
 paternal Deity. The redeemed have not seen 
 Him. The Christian in heaven will see no more of 
 Him than the seraph whose face is covered with his 
 wings. God is every where. He is in the twink- 
 ling star whose distance makes us dizzy. He is 
 beyond the wing of the morning in the uttermost 
 parts of the sea. He is here in this city. He is 
 
Seen of Ajigels. 59 
 
 in this place 0! worship. Not a part of Him, nor 
 an attribute of Him, but the entire, full orbed 
 deity of the King eternal, immortal and invisible ; 
 the whole of God is here. 
 
 Why is He invisible } Because He is incorporeal, 
 spiritual. He is no body, but is all soul. There 
 was a point in the bygone eternities, when God 
 could not be said to be in the universe ; God was 
 the universe ; God was unrevealed and solitary. 
 Satan was not born. No angel or archangel sang 
 or flew. Man was not yet made from dust. Dust 
 was not yet made from chaos. Chaos was not yet 
 evoked from nothingness. All was blankness, 
 infinite depth of darkness, the negation of life. 
 Not a sound of created thing ticked in the awful 
 silence. Not a star glimmered on the vision of the 
 only One. And all this for periods of duration to 
 which the six thousand years of human history is 
 not so much as the click of Time's pendulum. 
 Then God revealed himself in the Son. " No man 
 hath seen God at any time ; the only begotten Son, 
 which is in the bosom of the Father, he hath 
 declared him." Christ is the glory of the Father. 
 In that wonderful chapter of Hebrews which 
 speaks of the ascendency of Christ over the 
 angels. He is called the brightness of the Father's 
 glory and the express image of His person. God 
 the Father is God-absolute. God the Son is 
 
6o Sermons. 
 
 God-absolute, revealed. You cannot see the king 
 of day, the body of it. You can see the light, the 
 glory of it, for the sunlight is the sun made mani- 
 fest. Such may be the nature of the glory which 
 Christ had with the Father before the world was ; 
 when, in the beginning, the word was with God 
 and the word was God. 
 
 In this majesty and glory, Christ was first seen 
 of angels. Then first they veiled their faces. The 
 first sound that startled the solitudes of eternity 
 was the song burst of the wondering cherubim, cry- 
 ing out unto Christ, ** Holy, holy, holy. Lord God 
 of Sabaoth." 
 
 II. — Christ was seen of angels as the Creator of 
 the worlds. The apostle speaks of Christ, not as 
 the Creator of the world, but of the worlds. All 
 things were made by Him, and without Him was not 
 anything made that was made. Unto the Son he 
 saith, " Thou Lord, in the beginning hast laid the 
 foundations of the earth, and the heavens are the 
 work of thy hands. 
 
 They saw Christ when, in answer to the creative 
 fiat, 
 
 " Orbs of beauty and spheres of flame, 
 From the void abyss by myriads came." 
 
 They saw Christ ride on the wings of cherubim^ 
 far into chaos and the worlds unborn. They can 
 tell the story which Raphael, the afiable archangel 
 related to Adam before paradise was lost ; of what. 
 
Seen of Angels. 6i 
 
 in Eden or without, was done before his memory. 
 They saw this world of ours just as it first rolled 
 into space, as the eye of science has beheld it, 
 looking backward on the Mosaic vision of creation ; 
 a boiling mass of molten granite, wrapped in thick 
 and scalding steam. In the majestic language of 
 Milton, 
 
 " On heavenly ground they stood ; and from the shore 
 They viewed the vast, imnieasurable abyss 
 Outrageous as a sea, dark, wasteful, wild, 
 Up from the bottom turned by furious winds 
 And surging waves, as mountains to assault 
 Heaven's height, and with the center mix the pole." 
 
 They heard the sublime voice which pierced the 
 listening east with the command, " Light, Be ! " 
 
 They witnessed the separation of the waters, the 
 sea of vapor rising slowly from the azoic fire-ocean 
 which surged and thundered around the foundation 
 of the earth. They gazed with wonder, as the sea 
 was specked with slowly rising rocks ; as these 
 multiplied and extended and united into great flat 
 continents upheaved from the bosom of the boiling 
 deep. They saw them clothed with floral life. 
 They saw the gigantic forests untenanted as yet 
 by bird or beast, stretching away from pole to pole ; 
 waving in their lonely beauty as huge pines and 
 gorgeous fir trees, and then after convulsions and 
 cataclysms, stored away as fossils in the coal mines 
 to warm the dwellings and feed the manufactories 
 of the uncreated race of man. 
 
62 Sermons. 
 
 Those great whales, the reptile monsters larger 
 than hippopotami and elephants, such as now are to 
 be found in our great museums, the angels saw 
 when they were flying through the firmament of 
 heaven or tempting the waters of the deep. They 
 saw the gorgons, hydras and chimeras dire, the 
 most wonderful display of creative power; and 
 they saw the mammoth and mastodon before they 
 were buried in their limestone graves, shaking the 
 earth with their colossal tread. 
 
 Those primeval dynasties, whose broken bones 
 make the geologist wonder, were then the kings of 
 creation. The angels saw them rise and flourish 
 and then make way for nobler existences ; for suc- 
 cessive genera of plants and animals, fish of the 
 sea and fowl of the air and every living thing that 
 moveth upon the earth ; until at last they saw the 
 perfect world kindled into beauty by the smile ot 
 God, and man himself, the image of his Maker, 
 sinless and immortal, a little lower than the angels, 
 crowned with glory and honor, heir of the world 
 and lord of paradise, joining in matin songs 
 with his fair spouse on the world's first Sabbath 
 morning. Then the angels united in the song, and 
 the morning stars sang together, and all the sons 
 of God shouted for joy. 
 
 III. — Christ was seen of angels, as the angel of 
 the Lord. 
 
Seen of Angels. 63 
 
 The scriptures teach us, that before Christ was 
 manifest in the flesh, he appeared to men in the 
 form of an angel. The mediator of the new dis- 
 pensation partook of human nature ; the mediators 
 of the old dispensation were Moses and the angel 
 of the covenant, the Jehovah angel, the angel of 
 the Lord. On occasions of great solemnity and 
 importance, the ordinary messengers of heaven 
 were superseded by a more august personage. 
 Christ himself appeared to men in the semblance 
 of an angel. That passage in our version does not 
 conflict which asserts that Christ took not on him 
 the nature of angels, because the original and the 
 margin read that Christ assisted not angels but the 
 seed of Abraham. There are various passages in 
 the Old Testament which show that the angel of 
 the Lord was none other than Christ himself, min- 
 istering in visible form to the children of humanity. 
 Thus in Gen. xlviii. 15, "And He blessed Joseph, 
 and said, God, before whom my fathers Abraham 
 and Isaac did walk, the God which fed me all my 
 life long unto this day, the angel which redeemed 
 me from all evil, bless the lads." Here the angel, 
 who is also his redeemer, is clearly the same as the 
 God who is mentioned before. To quote the words 
 of an able commentator, — ^* The angel Jehovah of 
 the Old Testament is the Savior Christ of the New, 
 He who in every age has been the Redeemer of lost 
 
64 Sermons. 
 
 men." The shining ones saw Christ as the Jehovah * 
 angel, wiping away the tears of Hagar in the desert ; 
 and witholding the hand of Abraham from the sacri- 
 fice of his son, as if he had said, " I will be the 
 Lamb for the burnt offering." He appeared unto 
 Jacob in Bethel, and warned him to return to his 
 kindred. This was the angel of the Lord who is 
 called God, who spake in fire out of the midst of 
 the bush, and commanded Moses to deliver his 
 people from the oppression of the Egyptians. 
 This was the angel of the Lord whose name was 
 secret, who did wondrously while Manoah and his 
 wife looked on, and ascended to heaven in the 
 flame of the altar. This was he who inspired 
 Gideon to lead the hosts of Israel to victory. This 
 is the angel of the Lord who encampeth round 
 about them that fear Him. 
 
 We would not indeed be presumptuous upon a 
 subject so lofty and mysterious ; but it would seem 
 that even before that fullness of time when Christ 
 should be born of the virgin, the brightness of the 
 Father's glory had visited this earth in the com- 
 panionship of angels ; even as, to compare great 
 things with small, Norsemen touched upon our 
 coast and left their mysterious monuments cen- 
 turies before the true discovery of the world-seek- 
 ing Genoese. To the angels, the Son of God ap- 
 peared even from the beginning to manifest a 
 
Seen of Angels. 65 
 
 strange interest in one little earth-speck in the 
 broad universe ; and to pass by all the elder born 
 of creation, the glorious beings who excelled in 
 strength, to pour the fullness of his love upon the 
 infant world ; upon the weak, the helpless and the 
 wretched beings who had listened to the tempting 
 voice of the arch-apostate-fiend promising know- 
 ledge and life forever, but giving instead a 
 dark inheritance of remorse and tears and death 
 and all our woe. Even when man was yet a 
 great way off, the Jehovah angel saw him and had 
 compassion, and ran and fell upon his neck and 
 kissed him. The angels saw him thus anticipating 
 Bethlehem and Calvary, much as we might see a 
 mother lifting from a bed of languishing her sick 
 child, for some maternal ministry of mercy. As 
 she bends over the pale darling to take it in her 
 arms, she cannot wait, but the fullness of her love 
 overflows in repeated kisses ; and the babe looks up 
 with dimpling smiles, in full faith that all will be 
 well so soon as he is enfolded to his mother's heart. 
 
 But all this anticipative mediation was only the 
 fore-shadow of the Incarnation. Of aill the visions 
 which the angels have seen, the most wonderful is 
 the vision of God manifest in the flesh as the Son of 
 David. I remark, therefore, in the fourth place, that, 
 
 IV. — Christ was seen of angels as the Incarnate 
 Savior. 
 
66 Sermons. 
 
 For verily Christ assisted not angels, but he as- 
 sisted the seed of Abraham. " Wherefore, in all 
 things it behooved him to be made like unto his 
 brethren ; that he might be a merciful and faithful 
 High Priest in things pertaining to God, to make 
 reconciliation for the sins of the people. For in that 
 he himself hath suffered, being tempted, he is able 
 to succor them that are tempted." 
 
 *' Touched with a sympathy within, 
 He knows our feeble frame ; 
 He knows what sore temptations mean, 
 For He has felt the same." 
 
 The angels had seen Christ as the glory of the 
 Father, and worshiped Him for myriads of ages as 
 very God of very God. They had seen His creative 
 love and power revealed in sun and star, in fish and 
 fowl and beast, and godlike man. They had seen 
 Him on rare missions of mercy as a monarch in 
 disguise. But now that He should leave the bosom 
 of the Father and the royalties of heaven, to as- 
 sume the nature, not of angels nor of archangels, 
 but of man ; and not of man in his most exalted con- 
 dition as king or prince, but as a despised Galilean 
 peasant ; not of man in the prime of years and of 
 strength, but as -a little babe crying in its mother's 
 arms, born in a stable and dying on a gallows ; 
 this excited profound astonishment among the 
 heavenly host. And not only the facts, but the 
 philosophy of the incarnation attract the gaze of 
 
Seen of Angels. 67 
 
 the angels. In the words of another, ''Vast ques- 
 tions and mysterious, perplexing to human thought 
 and by the human intellect inexplicable, are invol- 
 ved in the philosophy of redemption. The limita- 
 tion of the atonement to man, while apostate angels 
 are excluded, and then its further limitation, in its 
 actual result, to a portion only of the human race, 
 while its essential value cannot be less than in- 
 finite ; the equity of substitution, even though the 
 innocent being substituted for the guilty be a con- 
 senting party to the transaction ; the essential 
 malignity of sin to require such a sacrifice in order 
 to its expiation ; the influence' of redeeming mercy 
 upon the moral character of its recipients, purify- 
 ing and ennobling their nature, and lifting them up 
 from their depravity to a fitness for companionship 
 with themselves and fellowship with God ; and 
 the ultimate issue of the whole plan in the annihi- 
 lation of moral evil, the extinction of death, the 
 restoration of holiness, the incorporation of men 
 and angels into one family, the universal reign of 
 love, and the everlasting glory of the Creator and 
 Redeemer, these are the things which the Bible 
 says the angels desire to look into." 
 
 " See how they bend. See how they look. 
 Long had they read the eternal book, 
 And studied dark decrees in vain ; 
 The cross and Calvary make them plain. 
 Now they are struck with deep amaze, 
 Each with his wing conceals his face ; 
 
68 Sermons. 
 
 Now clap their sounding plumes and cry 
 The wisdom of a Deity !" 
 
 During the thirty-three years of Christ's pil- 
 grimage on earth, the angels were ever round about 
 him with watchful sympathy and love. He had 
 only to ask the Father, and straightway twelve 
 legions of shining ones would have rushed on swift 
 wings to His deliverance. In their hands they bore 
 Him up, lest at any time He should dash His foot 
 against a stone. From the first infant wail to the 
 last expression of sacrificial agony, they were 
 round about Him, the perpetual witness of His love. 
 There was little stir on earth when the heavenly 
 stranger touched its shores, but heaven was half- 
 emptied and hell was thunder smitten, when Christ 
 was born in Bethlehem. Herod was frightened 
 when he heard the tidings, but with greater terror 
 did Satan gaze upon that sleeping babe; for he 
 knew right well, by devilish instinct, that there was 
 something holy in it ; something of God in it. 
 This then had something to do with those dim pro- 
 phecies which he had heard, cycles of ages before, 
 when he was an angel of light ; of a Messiah, of a 
 Redeemer, who should frustrate all the machina- 
 tions of hell ; of God manifest in the flesh, who 
 should, by a wondrous sacrifice of Himself upon the 
 cross, atone for the sins of humanity, restore man 
 to the early glories of his being, confirm him in 
 perfect happiness and holiness, and bring the king- 
 
Seen of Angels. 69 
 
 dom of darkness to utter and irremediable destruc- 
 tion. This was the seed of the woman that should 
 bruise the serpent's head. Here in that manger- 
 cradle slumbered the hope of regenerate humanity, 
 the germ of Satan's ruin. He glared upon the 
 divine babe as Hubert glared upon the sleeping 
 prince, whose eyes he fain would murder. His 
 once glorious face was seamed with anguish and 
 distorted with passion. A demoniac smile as of 
 sun-lit storm, stole upon his lips as he thought of 
 strangling the heaven-born child, or luring it to 
 hell. But round about the stable the keen eye of 
 Uriel kept watch, and the fiery brand of Michael 
 made lightning, and the helmed cherubim and 
 sworded cherubim kept ward as of old around the 
 gates of Eden. The arch fiend spread his broad 
 wings, and hell grew dark with his frown, as he 
 told his irretrievable defeat to the fallen domina- 
 tions enthroned in anguish on the burning marl. 
 They too had seen their enemy afar, and as they 
 listened to the news from earth, they sat silent and 
 despairing before their ruined chieftain, paced in 
 terror the gloomy streets, with sulphurous pallor on 
 their brows and their hands upon their breasts, 
 and cried, All, all is lost I 
 
 " The oracles are dumb. 
 No voice or hideous hum 
 Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving \ 
 Apollo from his shrine 
 
70 Sermons. 
 
 Can now no more divine. 
 With hollow shriek the steep of Delphas leaving : 
 
 ^ 7^ ^ ^ yr 
 
 He feels from Judah's land 
 
 The dreaded infant's hand ; 
 
 The rays of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyes ; 
 
 Nor all the Gods beside 
 
 Longer dare abide, 
 
 Not Typhon huge ending in snaky train ; 
 
 Our babe to show his Godhead true 
 
 Can in his swaddling bands control the damned crew." 
 
 But while wicked spirits saw and trembled, the 
 holy ones were jubilant with birthday hallelujahs. 
 In all the countless mansions of heaven, Isaiah's 
 song was sung, " Unto us a child is born, unto us 
 a son is given : and his name shall be called Won- 
 derful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlast- 
 ing Father, The Prince of Peace." 
 
 A glorious company of angels appeared to the 
 shepherds on the plains of Bethlehem. There on 
 those fields where David had tended his father's 
 flock ; where Ruth the Moabitess had gleaned in the 
 harvest fields of Boaz ; there in the cloudless, balmy 
 night, the white flocks were nibbling the herbage, 
 and the simple shepherds were telling the tradition 
 of their country's glory before the days of the 
 Roman ; when suddenly the moon was eclipsed by 
 the glory of the Lord, and the frightened swains 
 bowed their faces to the ground. But the angel 
 said unto them, " Fear not : for behold, I bring you 
 good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all peo- 
 ple. For unto you is born this day, in the city of 
 
Seen of Angels. ^i 
 
 David, a Savior, which is Christ the Lord." And 
 then, before the angel had ended, there was sudden 
 music, as from the keys of some great organ swell- 
 ing its Christmas anthem through the dome of 
 heaven, and a multitude of the heavenly host, who 
 had sung together on the evening of creation, now, 
 on the morning of redemption, joined voices in 
 more exalted symphonies, — "Glory to God in the 
 highest, and on earth peace, good will towards 
 men." 
 
 Everything the Savior did or suffered was worthy 
 of angelic regard. They bent over him as he grew 
 from infancy to boyhood. When Herod, under 
 pretense of paying his respects to him, sought the 
 you.xg LiUxJ's life, they were with him in his exile 
 to Egypt ; they saw him return to Galilee to be 
 subject to his parents. They followed him as he 
 grew up in human beauty and in heavenly grace. 
 They saw him as a boy of twelve. There is a pic- 
 ture which you have seen of John Milton at the 
 age of twelve, a noble boy with flowing curls heavy 
 upon his shoulders, his well chiseled features not 
 yet wrinkled by the sternness of life and his full 
 blue eye undarkened as yet, and lustrous with 
 dreams of chivalry. This always suggests to my 
 mind the picture which the Evangelists have given 
 of Jesus at the age of twelve. No painter has ever 
 depicted the God-boy worthily. But in my im- 
 
72 Sermons. 
 
 agination, I can see his dark, flashing eye already 
 expanding with the consciousness of his divine 
 mission. I can see him, in his oriental dress, stand- 
 ing on the marble pavement of the temple, dream- 
 ing of heavenly things. A faint glory encircles his 
 brow, and the doctors of law look with wonder as 
 the noble boy asks them of the commandments and 
 the meaning of the sacrifices and the interpreta- 
 tion of prophecies ; while a band of angels with 
 folded wings gaze reverently upon the scene. 
 
 The angels saw Christ not only as a perfect boy : 
 they saw him grow in stature and wisdom, and in 
 favor with God and man. They saw the Messiah 
 dignifying labor, as a humble carpenter ; so that the 
 Son of God could say, like Paul to the Ephesian 
 elders, "These hands have ministered to my ne- 
 cessities." And then, after thirty years of waiting, 
 when he was prepared by obscurity and poverty 
 by misunderstandings and misrepresentations, such 
 as are often witnessed in an inferior degree in the 
 case of struggling genius, in order that he might 
 be in all points of temptation like as we are, they 
 saw him enter upon his glorious work. With bowed 
 head he stands in the ford of Jordan, praying 
 while his forerunner pours the water on his sacred 
 brow. Then comes the holier baptism of the 
 Spirit and the Paternal recognition from the open- 
 ing heavens, solemnly proclaiming to men and 
 
Seen of Angels. 73 
 
 angels that Jesus was in truth the Son of God. 
 
 The angels saw Jesus when He was alone with 
 Satan in the desert of Judea. They saw the at- 
 tempt to seduce the Redeemer into the common 
 apostacy of mankind, by temptation addressed to the 
 bodily appetite, to the love of power, to the desire 
 for worldly possessions. They saw Him weakened 
 by long abstinence, surrounded by wild and howl- 
 ing beasts far in the lonely desert, wrestling for 
 more than a month with all the subtlety and might 
 of hell ; then, when the rebellious fiend had again 
 spread his dusky pinions and left the God-man 
 panting but victorious, the hovering angels came 
 with gentlest ministry of healing and sympathy. 
 The angels came and strengthened Him. 
 
 They were with Him once again in Cana of Gali- 
 lee, where conscious nature first recognized her 
 Lord, at the beginning of miracles. They saw the 
 irrepressible Deity flashing forth in works of heal- 
 ing and resurrection and forgiveness. And on the 
 other hand they saw Christ's humanity. They saw 
 that perfect character in which the chivalry of 
 earth and heaven were blended ; woman's tender- 
 ness, man's nobleness, the child's simplicity, the 
 seraph's purity, all interfused in molten gold, on 
 which the glory of the Father rested in perpetual 
 
 light. 
 
 More than the intellect of Newton, more than 
 4 
 
74 Sermons. 
 
 th6 inlagination of Milton, more than the knowl- 
 edge of Humboldt, more than the philanthropy 
 of Washington, more than the wisdom of Socrates' 
 more than the meekness of Moses, more than the 
 faith of Abraham, more than the courage of Elijah, 
 more than the patience of Job, more than the sub- 
 mission of David, more than the glory of Adam, 
 were seen of angels in this second Adam, who 
 came to incarnate all our longings for perfection 
 and give the world assurance of a man. 
 
 Christ was seen of angels on the mount of trans- 
 figuration, when He made, as it were, a transient 
 visit to His native heaven, and His Godhead was un- 
 veiled in all its majesty and splendor ; when His 
 face did shine as the sun and His raiment was white 
 as the light. 
 
 He was seen again by the angels when there 
 was no light on earth, in the midnight of Gethse- 
 mane. There under the olive-trees, while John 
 and James and Peter were asleep, and the solemn 
 moon refused to give her light, they saw the ear- 
 nestness of His supplication ; they saw the intense 
 agony of His spirit ; they saw the big beads of 
 blood rolling down His face and falling to the 
 ground ; they saw Him exceeding sorrowful, even 
 unto death. The ternptef who had left Him for a 
 season, now returned fdr a final and awful contest. 
 Ingratitude^ neglect^ treason, torture> shame, all the 
 
Seen of Angels. 75 
 
 bitterness of hopeless life, concentrated their 
 agonies in the cup of the world's redemption, and 
 as the Savior took it up and drained it to the dregs, 
 an angel came and strengthened Him. 
 
 Once again, on Calvary, in the darkest hour, was 
 Christ seen of angels. Hanging there between 
 heaven and earth as the suffering Mediator, with 
 parched tongue and racked nerve, and brain all 
 burning, men could not see Him. His virgin mother 
 was there, and he who had so often leaned upon His 
 bosom was there, and a great company of mourners 
 were there, but they could not see Him for the 
 darkness which covered the mountain like a funeral 
 pall. No human friend could comfort Him. God 
 himself forsook Him, that He might endure every 
 unutterable pang. The angels saw it, but they 
 could not strengthen Him now. He must 
 tread the wine press alone. Thus they looked 
 down on this deep mystery of love, as the cherubim 
 gazed upon the mercy-seat ; and every eye in all 
 the universe of God was riveted upon that cross on 
 which the God-man voluntarily suffered for the sins 
 of the world. They witnessed the lurid light, the 
 rending veil, the shattered rocks, the buried saints 
 walking the streets in white, the hum of awe, the 
 shriek of consternation, but they heeded them not ; 
 their eye was fixed with steady gaze upon that 
 cross, upon the pale corpse of the crucified Re- 
 
76 Sermons. 
 
 deemer. It seemed to them, for a moment, as 
 though God himself were dead. 
 
 But the Redeemer rose. The angels came again 
 to sing the Easter anthem. For David speaketh 
 concerning Him, " I have set the Lord always 
 before me. Therefore my heart is glad and my 
 glory rejoiceth ; my flesh also shall rest in hope. 
 For thou* wilt not leave my soul in hell, neither wilt 
 thou suffer thine Holy One to see corruption." 
 Yes — the Redeemer rose, and the angels rolled 
 away the stone. Afterward Jesus showed himself 
 in His glorified body, as the first fruits of them that 
 slept, and comforted the disciples for forty days with 
 tidings of the Kingdom and promises of the Spirit. 
 Then he ascended from the mountain top convoyed 
 by angelic squadrons back to the everlasting 
 throne. Methinks as that radiant procession is 
 winding through the stars, I see the angels throw- 
 ing down their palms, and spreading their garments 
 in the way. I hear the voice of the archangel 
 shouting out to the watchers at the gates of pearl, 
 *' Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the 
 Lord. Hosanna in the highest. Open your gates, 
 tune all your harps, and give the Victor way!" 
 Then a million angels shout, " Lift up your heads, 
 O ye gates ; and be ye lifted up, ye everlasting 
 doors ; and the King of glory shall come in." 
 Hark! a solitary voice, but so clear and musical 
 
Seen of Angels. yy 
 
 that it is heard throughout the stars, comes from the 
 Warden of the pearly gates, " Who is this King of 
 glory?" Then rolls back the music-thunder of the 
 cherubim, " The Lord strong and mighty, the Lord 
 mighty in battle. Lift up your heads, O ye gates; 
 even lift them up, ye everlasting doors ; and the 
 King of glory shall come in." 
 
 My brethren, zve have never seen the Savior with 
 the bodily eye. We sometimes wish that we could 
 have touched the hem of His garment, supped with 
 Him at Bethany, or heard Him preach upon the 
 mountain of Beatitudes. But I am persuaded that 
 we are better off. Not many of the Jews believed 
 on Him. Volney became an infidel even while 
 visiting Bethlehem and Calvary. The distance of 
 eighteen centuries glorifies Him in our eyes, and 
 faith, in proportion to its more vigorous exercise, is 
 rewarded with a corresponding blessing. There- 
 fore Jesus said unto Thomas, desiring to see and 
 put his fingers into the print of the nails, and thrust 
 his hand into the wounded side, '* Thomas, because 
 thou hast seen me thou hast believed ; blessed are 
 they that have not seen, and yet have believed." 
 
 We are better Christians because we have not 
 seen the Savior. We have more faith. We inherit 
 the blessing. 
 
 We shall see Christ. Yes, we shall see Him as 
 St. John saw Him, at the right hand of the Father: 
 
yS Sermons. 
 
 We shall hear Him say, " Fear not, I am he that 
 liveth and was dead ; and behold, I am alive for 
 evermore." We shall hear with our own ears the 
 angels, and the living creatures, and the elders, ten 
 thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of 
 thousands, saying with a loud voice, "Worthy is 
 the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and 
 riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honor, and 
 glory, and blessing." 
 
 We shall see Christ at the judgment bar of the 
 universe. He will be seated on the throne of 
 Heaven. His voice will thrill the soul like the 
 voice of many waters. His countenance shall be 
 as the sun shineth in his strength. Every eye shall 
 see Him then. The wicked will not desire to look 
 on Him ; but they shall look on Him whom they 
 have pierced. " They shall say to the mountains, 
 Cover us ; and to the hills. Fall on us." They will 
 fall down at his feet as dead men. Then will 
 they be left to their own desire ; they will never see 
 Christ any more. 
 
 But the Christian on that awful day, will retain 
 unshaken confidence in the love of his Redeemer. 
 He will see Him with wonder and with joy. One 
 glance will fill to fullness all the fountains of his 
 being. His eyes will follow Him through all the 
 countless throng. And now the eyes of Christ fall 
 on him with majestic tenderness. The ocean tones 
 
Seen of Angels. 79 
 
 are mellowed to a silvery softness, " Oh, blessed of 
 my Father, you think you have never seen my face 
 before." " No, Lord, never before." " But you have 
 seen me. I have been seen of angels, and I have been 
 seen of you. You have entertained me unawares. 
 You poured wine and oil into my wounds. You 
 gave me living waters. You clothed me with 
 beautiful garments. You sympathized v/ith me 
 in person, when all the world turned their backs 
 upon me." 
 
 *^ Thee, Lord "i When saw we thee an hungered 
 and fed thee, or thirsty and gave thee drink .^ When 
 saw we thee a stranger, or naked, or sick or in 
 prison and ministered unto Thee r Then the 
 King shall answer with a welcome smile, " Ye did 
 it unto the beggar, the soldier, the slave. Inas- 
 much as ye have done it unto one of the least of 
 these my brethren, ye have done it unto me. You 
 saw me, but did not know me ; henceforth you shall 
 both see me and know me. On earth you saw me in 
 my sorrow ; now you shall see me in my joy. On 
 earth you saw me in my humility ; now you see 
 me in my glory. Come, ye blessed of my Father ; 
 hereafter your eyes shall feast forever on the angels' 
 vision of Christ." 
 
GIVING THE HEART, 
 
GIVING THE HEART. 
 
 <* My son, give me thine heart," 
 
 Proverbs, xxm. 29. 
 
 In speaking to you, my brethren, from this direct 
 and emphatic command of God, I shall first briefly 
 explain what is meant by the command, and then 
 speak more at length of the reasons for obedience, 
 
 I. What are v^e to understand by giving God 
 the heart .? Let us consider what is not meant by 
 it, 
 
 (i) It is not meant that we should live in gross 
 and open violation of God's commandments. 
 
 There are in every considerable community hun- 
 dreds of persons smitten with a moral leprosy. 
 Their characters are hideous and unclean even in 
 the sight of men. Born with evil propensities 
 which have germinated in the hot-beds of igno- 
 rance, poverty and social neglect, they have long 
 lost all the restraining influences which surround 
 the Christian household. They take pleasure 
 in those that do evil. They work in the night. 
 
84 Sermons, 
 
 They glory in their shame. If they have any idea 
 of worship, it is the worship of the devil. They 
 blaspheme the name of God, profane His day, hate 
 His sanctuary, despise His ordinances, malign His 
 servants, abhor all that is good, live without God 
 and without hope in the world. These certainly 
 do not obey the exhortation of the text, " My son, 
 give me thy heart. 
 
 (2) Again, it cannot mean that we are to 
 devote our principal energies to the acquisition of 
 wealth and the pursuit of pleasure. 
 
 Take for example the first class, those who are 
 making haste to become rich, and witness their 
 actions and true character. You behold them like 
 men in a race. See them run ! Every eye is 
 fixed, every nerve excited, every muscle strained 
 and tense. They have no time nor thought for 
 anything, but to reach the goal before their 
 rivals. So the worldly man is occupied with 
 business and plans. Even the hours of relaxa- 
 tion for food and sleep are encroached upon. 
 The claims of God in benevolence are utterly 
 disregarded. The day which divine mercy has 
 furnished to break the spell of the world's en- 
 chantment, is employed in finishing up the busi- 
 ness of the week, or in recuperating the ex- 
 hausted energies of mind and body, not for 
 heavenly service but for the excitement and toil 
 
Giving the HeQft. 85 
 
 of the coming week of worldliness. It is safe 
 to say that there are thousands of such men 
 who do not even think of God from one weeks' 
 end to the other, and who therefore cannot 
 obey the command to give Him their hearts. 
 
 The same may be said of the devotee of 
 pleasure. What he considers as the main end 
 of hfe is the pleasure of sin, the exclusive 
 gratification of sense ; or, if he is of more refined 
 character, the exclusive gratification of taste. 
 Such men seek only for happiness ; therefore they 
 seek not first the kingdom of God and His 
 righteousness. The word of God is to them a 
 sealed book like the rolls of the apocalypse. If 
 they think of God at all, it is only to banish 
 Him from their meditations, as the skeleton at 
 their festal board. They enjoy no communion 
 with Him in prayer. They take no interest in 
 religious concerns, but esteem them dull and 
 unworthy the attention of one who is occupied 
 in yachts and horses, billiards, music and fash- 
 ionable parties. They themselves would not 
 wish it for a moment to be mentioned, in their 
 select circle, that they had given their hearts to 
 God. 
 
 (3) Once more, it cannot mean that we are 
 to offer to God a mechanical and formal rever- 
 ence and service. It cannot mean baptism, or 
 
S6 Sermons. 
 
 confirmation, or external union with a church. 
 It cannot mean the reading of the scriptures 
 without the love of them, or hurried and formal 
 prayers repeated from habit and interrupted by 
 everything else. It cannot mean regular at- 
 tendance upon worship for the sake of decency 
 or custom, display or acquaintance, for musical 
 gratification or intellectual titillation. For this 
 is the precise description of those spoken of by the 
 prophet Isaiah, who draw near to God with their 
 lips while they have removed their heart far from 
 Him. These may have given God many externali- 
 ties and proprieties, but this surely is not giving 
 Him the heart. 
 
 (4) We can ascertain the force of the injunction 
 of the text by taking a plain illustration. A sol- 
 dier has been away to the war forced upon us 
 by armed traitors. He has for long months en- 
 dured wet and heat, cold and hunger, and has run 
 constant risks of mutilation and awful death. He 
 has not done this for the pay, for he might have 
 earned much more in comfort and safety at home. 
 But he did it because he loved his country, be- 
 cause beneath the outward service there throbbed 
 a patriot's heart. His whole soul is in the contest, 
 and therefore when the enemy invades the borders 
 of a sister state, he hastens off again before he has 
 had time to rest, gives up home and its affections, 
 
Giving the Heart, Zj 
 
 business, comfort, everything, that he may give his 
 strength and courage and life, if need be, for the sal- 
 vation of his imperiled country. He makes coun- 
 try first, his own interest last. He makes all else 
 subordinate to patriotic duty. Like one of the 
 youthful heroes of the Revolution, he laments that 
 he has only one life to give for liberty. He gives 
 liberty his heart. 
 
 What the patriot does in an inferior degree for 
 his country, we are called upon by the language of 
 the text to do for our God. We are to love Him, 
 honor Him and serve Him with all the strength 
 and enthusiasm of our lives. As it is a joy for us 
 to diffuse our affections upon the sacred objects 
 which are included in the circle of home, so it is to 
 be our highest privilege, blessing, happiness and 
 glory, to fasten our thought, lavish our love and 
 center our life far away from self, far higher than 
 the world's confusion and pollution, upon Him who 
 is our dwelling-place in all generations, the eternal 
 rest and home of His people. In view of our duty 
 no less than of our privilege and glory, we are to 
 love the Lord our God with all the heart, with all 
 the soul, and with all the strength. And this love 
 is not to be a mere sentimental emotion, barren in 
 all influence upon the life, but an active, burning, 
 hearty love, consecrating all our hopes to God, ac- 
 knowledging Him as our only portion, renouncing 
 
88 Sermons. 
 
 all sinful courses which may grieve the Spirit, 
 identifying ourselves with all God-like works and 
 opportunities, holding perpetual communion with 
 the Father in the way of His appointment, gladly 
 confessing Christ before men and angels, and re- 
 cording our names in that Zion which He loves 
 more than all the dwellings of Jacob ; until the 
 devout experience of the Christian shall be best 
 expressed in the earnest feeling of the Psalmist, 
 " Whom have I in heaven but thee, and there is 
 none upon the earth that I desire beside thee." 
 
 This full, free offering of our love, our homage 
 and our obedience, is what is meant by giving 
 God our hearts. 
 
 H. The first reason which I shall assign to 
 enforce the duty of giving God the heart, is that by 
 this alone the rightful claims of God can be satisfied. 
 
 (i) If the Divine Being has any claims upon us, and 
 these claims are just and right, then it must follow 
 that we ought at once to appreciate and liquidate 
 them. We ought then to give God our heart, be- 
 cause He is worthy to be loved on account of the 
 excellence of His character. The account which 
 history furnishes us of such personages as Howard 
 and Washington is sufficient to excite our admira- 
 tion and affection, and call forth all the enthusiasm 
 of a noble nature. Were they now to appear again 
 upon the stage of existence, the world would shake 
 
Giving the Heart. 89 
 
 with the welcome we should give them. Our 
 hearts would swell, our eyes would fill, and we 
 should be ready at any sacrifice to contribute to 
 their enjoyment. But all the excellence and worth 
 of these illustrious characters was derived from God, 
 and bears no more proportion to the eternal fullness 
 of all that is glorious and lovable than does the 
 vapor of the morning to the depths that stretch 
 from pole to pole. If then we give our spontane- 
 ous devotion to worthy mortals who borrow their 
 excellence, as the planets shine clothed not in their 
 own original brightness, but in the infinite splen- 
 dors of the sun, then much more, incalculably 
 more, should our homage and our hearts be given 
 to Him who comprises and communicates all the 
 radiance of the moral universe, the Father of lights, 
 from whom cometh every good and perfect gift, with 
 whom is no variableness neither shadow of turning. 
 (2) But I remark again that God has a claim 
 upon our hearts because He is our Ruler. As I 
 have said already, -the giving of the heart includes 
 love, homage and obedience. It is not a debateable 
 question with us at the present time that loyalty is 
 a virtue, that disloyalty is a crime, that the alle- 
 giance and devotion of every subject is due and 
 ought to be given, at whatever hazard and sacrifice, 
 to that rugged patriot who was constitutionally elec- 
 ted by the people to uphold the liberties, perpetuate 
 
90 Sermons. 
 
 the blessings and defend the integrity and life of 
 the regal nation committed to his keeping. The 
 President is no longer a simple citizen. He is the 
 delegated will of twenty millions of freemen, he sits 
 upon the proudest throne of earth, he is the vicege- 
 rent of the Almighty's sovereignty and is invested 
 with all the sanctities of liberty and law. Resist- 
 ance to him is rebellion, anarchy, national dissolu- 
 tion, treason to the world's best interests ; and he 
 therefore, in his public capacity as ruler, has a right- 
 ful claim upon our allegiance and service. 
 
 You see now the force of the comparison. God 
 is the fountain of all governments, the ground and 
 center of all law. Upon His shoulders hangs the 
 key. The worlds roll at His bidding. The princi- 
 palities of Heaven fall down before His feet. On 
 his head are many crowns, and He hath on His ves- 
 ture and on His thigh a name written, "King of 
 Kings and Lord of Lords." 
 
 We therefore as subjects of the divine sover- 
 eignty, as loyal citizens of His empire, are in justice 
 and in honor bound to respect His authority and to 
 keep His commandments, always and everywhere to 
 obey His will whether recorded in the statute book 
 of revelation or writen by the pen of conscience 
 upon the tablet of our souls. In this most moment- 
 ous relation which mortals sustain to God, indiffer- 
 ence to the divine will is disobedience, and disobe- 
 
Giving ike Heart, 91 
 
 dience is rebellion, and rebellion is treason toward 
 God and anarchy in all God's moral dominions. 
 God therefore, as the Supreme Ruler, has a right to 
 demand of you as a subject your homage and obe- 
 dience, and it is the great crowning sin of your life 
 that you keep back your heart's allegiance. O 
 loyal patriots ! be fathful to your obligations to the 
 Celestial Sovereign. Be true to your country, but 
 be true to your God. Render unto Caesar the 
 things which are Caesar's, but render unto God the 
 things which are God's. 
 
 (3) There is another claim which the Lord has 
 upon your heart. It is one which you recognize as 
 binding with most sacred obligation in all other 
 cases. It is a Father s claim. I appeal to the ten- 
 derest, truest feelings of your nature and ask 
 whether the best affection and devotion of which 
 you are capable are not due from you to the Being 
 without whom you would have had no existence } 
 The watchful parent who has supplied every bodily 
 and mental want, who has made the greatest per- 
 sonal sacrifices for your comfort and enjoyment, 
 who has thought it not too much to outwatch the 
 stars by your bedside in the lonely chamber, and 
 hung over you in your sickness as if he would eke 
 out your life with his, whose indulgence overlooked 
 a thousand acts of disobedience, whose happiness 
 was your happiness, who said, " Son, thou art ever 
 
92 Sermons. 
 
 with me and all that I have is thine," — what 
 would you think, I ask you in the name of com- 
 mon humanity, what would you think of the son, 
 bearing the image of his father and called by his 
 name, in whom all this wealth of tenderness and 
 self-sacrifice and affection awakened no responsive 
 emotion of love ; who heard with the stolid ear 
 of indifference the most precious tokens of pa- 
 rental yearning, who took an aversion to communion 
 with his father, who had not the least appreciation 
 of anything that his father had done for his welfare, 
 who followed his own whims and deliberately 
 violated the express wishes of his father ; nay, 
 who had sunk to such a depth of baseness, hard- 
 heartedness and filial ingratitude as to take a 
 fiendish delight in disobeying him, insulting him, 
 grieving him, lifting up his wretched hand to strike 
 the love that gave him life — what do you think of 
 such a monster as that ? 
 
 Ah ! poor sinner, thou art the man ! All that 
 the wickedness of that inhuman son has done to 
 his dearest earthly relative, you have perpetrated 
 toward your Heavenly Father. You have forgotten 
 Him, despised Him, insulted Him, grieved Him — 
 yes, crucified the Son of God afresh, by your 
 life of worldliness, indifference and sin, and I 
 put it to your own conscience, is it right ? Is 
 it right for you to do it ? Is it right for you 
 
Giving the Heart. 93 
 
 to live day after day, year after year, in con- 
 tinued, deliberate, and wilful violation of your 
 Heavenly Father's wishes ? Is it right ? Out 
 of your own mouth will I condem you. Is it 
 right ? Are you a son, or are you a filial mon- 
 ster ? Is there any dark-browed wretch that slinks 
 in the corners of creation baser, meaner, more un- 
 naturally wicked than the parricide who stretches 
 forth his puny arm to drag his father from the 
 throne of the universe ? Ah, brethren, it is bad 
 enough to be a traitor, to sin against the rightful 
 authority of Heaven's king and sovereign. Even 
 then we should deserve all the gnavvings of a trai- 
 tor's doom ; but to rise up in opposition to our 
 Father, to Him who gave us life and breath and all 
 things, in whom we live and move and have our be- 
 ing, who has healed all our diseases, forgiven our 
 iniquities, made our cup to run over with His good* 
 ness and fitted up eternal mansions stored for us 
 with all that can minister to our joy and rapture 
 throughout the fruition of eternity- — this — this — 
 there is nothing like this to be found in annals of 
 human history ! This is left for the sinner to ac- 
 complish toward the holy, majestic and all loving 
 Being who is our Father and our God, and who 
 exclaims in the mingled cadence of authority and 
 affection, " My son, give me thine heart." 
 III. — I remark in the next place, that to give God 
 
94 Sermons. 
 
 the heart is the only way to obtain happiness and 
 peace. 
 
 This proposition must follow from what has 
 been already stated. For he who delights not in 
 the excellence of the Divine Being, he who as a 
 subject is disloyal and as a son is ungrateful and 
 disobedient, cannot by the constitution of the 
 human mind attain to any permanent and real hap- 
 piness. Let us explain this still further. 
 
 There are in this world, and inferentially in all 
 worlds, certain arrangements and adaptations of 
 means to ends, which in the inanimate world pro- 
 duce perfect harmony, and in the spiritual realm 
 are necessary to produce that harmony of the soul 
 which is happiness. Thus, the camel was made 
 for the desert, the shaggy bear for the polar ice ; 
 the fin of the fish presupposes the existence of 
 water, and the wing of the eagle the more etherial 
 element through which it may cleave its way. The 
 camel cannot be happy away from its tropic sands, 
 nor the polar bear from his native icebergs. The 
 fish will die when taken from the ocean. The eagle 
 with its wings fettered will pine in its dungeon and 
 long for the eyrie far up in the crags and storm; 
 This is the law of their being. 
 
 In mart we firtd the same necessities developed 
 in higher manifestations. He has a physical or- 
 ganisation which was made for food and drink to 
 
Giving the Heart. 95 
 
 supply the waste of life. This demand of the body 
 cannot be left unsatisfied without a sense of pain 
 which is called hunger or thirst. If the pain is 
 long continued it becomes torture. With gaunt 
 and famished features, emaciated limbs, exhausted 
 nervous energy and delirious brain, the unhappy 
 sufferer falls a prey to an agonizing death by star- 
 vation. This is the law of his being. 
 
 So there are adaptations and necessities of the 
 higher nature which cannot be violated with im- 
 punity. Man is a social being, and if he shut 
 himself up in solitude like a monk in his cell, he 
 does violence to the laws of his mind, and must 
 experience misery. For man was made for man : 
 this is the law of his being. 
 
 Once more, man is endowed with an intellectual 
 nature. He has a constitutional desire for knowl- 
 edge. The child will ask countless questions. 
 The man longs to understand difficulties and pene- 
 trate mysteries, on and on, without weariness or 
 satiety. If you deprive him of knowledge, or of 
 the power of attaining it, it is as if you put out his 
 eyes and then left him in the midst of fragrant 
 gardens with rivers of beauty murmuring beneath 
 the foliage of the trees of life. The blind man will 
 pine for the vision of nature and the glance of love. 
 And so the inquisitive student shut out from the 
 sources of truth will become the most miserable of 
 
96 Sermons, 
 
 mortals. He is exultant when he can revel among 
 the fair pages of creation and ransack the glorious 
 world of books ; for this is the law of his being. 
 
 Now in precisely the same manner man is a 
 religions being, and was made for communion with 
 God. I may say with truthfulness that this is the 
 one great end to which all others are subordinate, 
 that man should expend his powers and faculties 
 upon eternal realities, and drink in from the inex- 
 haustible fountain of infinite love and truth. If 
 therefore the minor adaptations of our being can* 
 not be violated with impunity and without inflict- 
 ing a pang upon the nature which is violated, then 
 how much more this great and all-comprehensive 
 adaptation of the soul to religion and to God must 
 be known, appreciated, and consummated before we 
 can experience happiness or peace. Therefore in 
 strictest accordance with the philosophy of the 
 human mind the Scriptures declare, " There is no 
 peace saith my God, to the wicked." Can t"he fish 
 gasping on the sand experience its tiny sum of hap- 
 piness } Is there peace to the imprisoned eagle 
 gazing in sorrow at the blue and boundless sky ? 
 ease of body to the lonely mariner starving on the 
 wreck } peace of mind to the blinded scholar 
 groping after knowledge and finding it not } How 
 then can the soul that was made for God be satis- 
 fied until it finds Him ? If a man cannot rest when 
 
Giving the Heart. 97 
 
 hungering for the food which perisheth, how can he 
 rest when hungering for glory and immortality ? If 
 the soul does not fill up the measure of its joy until it 
 has found an earthly object around which its affec- 
 tions may cling and fasten, how can it fill up the frui- 
 tion of its blessedness until it has found the heavenly 
 love for which it is ever sighing as the shell is 
 moaning for the sea ? Ah, my brethren, I do not 
 wish to make an argument stronger than you your- 
 selves can make for me. I appeal to your own 
 truthful consciousness, and ask you who have not 
 yet given your hearts to God, to tell me if you are 
 happy ? You have intelligence and education, but 
 are you truly happy? You have wealth and in- 
 fluence, applause and fame, but are you happy ? 
 You arc encircled by the loving arms of laughing 
 children, and your home is luminous with the smile 
 of welcome kindred, but are you as happy as you 
 desire to be ? as happy as you were made to be ? 
 Do you not turn away from the possession of the 
 present as from a faded flower, and dream of othef 
 plans and possibilities of happiness ? Does no 
 sense of the vanity of all created things ever steal 
 over you in the flush of spring, the pomp of sum- 
 mer, or amid the faded leaves of autumn ? Do you 
 want no heavenly guidance amid the tangled mazes 
 of existence ? No divine strength in the hour of 
 human Weakness when you would do good and evil 
 
 S 
 
98 Sermons. 
 
 is present with you ? Do you not long for sym- 
 pathy and comfort such as mortals cannot give, 
 when you are almost crushed by the pressure of 
 affliction ? Do you not long for forgiveness and 
 purity, and for one hour of solid, uninterrupted, 
 celestial peace. Would you not give all preceding 
 pleasure to be able to shout out v/ith the apostle, 
 " Thanks be unto God for His unspeakable gift ? " 
 Ah ! you have been wrong, all wrong. You were 
 made with boundless capacities and you have been 
 trying to satisfy them with a handful of chaff. 
 Your heart is large enough for the Creator, and 
 you have thought to fill it with the created. If a 
 man ask for fish will you give him a scorpion .'* If 
 he is hungry for want of bread will you give him a 
 stone 1 Yet you have been famishing for religion 
 and eating the scorpions of sin ; hungering after 
 heaven and stuffing yourself with the stones of 
 earth ; starving for God and yet turning away with 
 indifference from the bread of life. O poor 
 wretched, infatuated souls, cease your wandering 
 and come where happiness is only to be found ! 
 God is all you want to fill up the great vacuum of 
 your hearts and give you the joy of Christ, the 
 peace that passeth all understanding. You may 
 say that you are happy ; you may cry *' peace, 
 peace," but there is no peace, saith the Lord, to the 
 wicked. I am only reiterating the words of your 
 
Givhtg the Heart. 99 
 
 Creator when I tell you that it is so ; that you 
 never can experience one hour of substantial peace 
 and happiness until you are in harmony with the 
 laws of your spiritual life, and find your rest and 
 joy in God. Your spiritual nature is too vast to be 
 happy. It must be filled, not with the vanities of 
 earth and time, but with all the fullness of celestial 
 love. Yes, God is all we want. " Thou, O God, 
 hast made us for thyself, and our souls cannot rest 
 until they rest in Thee." 
 
 I remark as a final consideration that giving the 
 heart to God is the only preparation for death and 
 eternity. 
 
 Were the curtain of eternity this night to be un- 
 rolled, and we could see depicted upon the wall the 
 names of those who soon are to pass away from 
 earth and lie down in the darkness of the sepulcher, 
 how every eye would be fixed upon the mysterious 
 canvas ! But your dissolution is as sure to come as 
 if the angel of death were to stand upon the plat- 
 form and call out each of you by name. The knell, 
 the pall, the bier, the grave, the clatter of the clods, 
 the stifled groan of agonizing kindred, the midnight 
 blackness, these are strange and solemn things. 
 But in a little while every one whom I behold this 
 night will be called upon to experience them. Re- 
 joice not, O young man, in thy strength, nor woman 
 in thy beauty, nor old man in thy wisdom, nor rich 
 
too Sermons, 
 
 man in thy riches, nor cunning man in thy crafti- 
 ness ! Sheol is stronger than ye all. Death shall 
 feed upon thee with ever-ravening maw. 
 
 Another year may be the last year of earth, 
 another month, another week. It may be this very 
 night your soul shall be required of you, and the 
 angels are watching for your last flickering pulse 
 and parting breath. And after death, in that first 
 awful moment when, parted from the flesh, you shall 
 stand a disembodied spirit in the presence of that 
 Being whom you have never seen, whose holy re- 
 quirements you have despised from the beginning 
 of your life to the end of it, whom the Revelator saw 
 standing in the midst of the seven golden candle- 
 sticks, His head and hairs like wool, as white as 
 snow. His eyes like a flame of fire, His feet like 
 unto fine brass. His voice as the sound of many 
 waters and His countenance as the sun shining in 
 his strength, so that the holy apostle fell at His 
 feet as dead, — oh ! poor, polluted, death struck 
 sinner, are you ready for the meeting ? Even good 
 men require all the grace of God, the ministry of 
 angels and the sympathy of Jesus to turn death 
 into victory. And are you ready to take your leap 
 into the dark \ If the righteous are scarcely saved, 
 where shall the ungodly and the sinner appear t 
 
 By the worthiness and excellence of God ; by 
 His rightful claims upon you as Ruler, Father, 
 
Giving the Heart, loi 
 
 Benefactor; by your own present happiness and 
 peace ; by the horrors of a Christless deathbed ; by 
 the solemnity of seeing God ; by the vision of the 
 coming judgment ; by the sinner's everlasting 
 doom, — I beseech of you, my brethren, to give God 
 your heart to-night. Give it unreservedly. Give it 
 freely. Give it to Him forever. And as that 
 heavenly, holy, paternal voice, in these sacred 
 moments of the lingering Sabbath freighted with 
 the destiny of immortal souls, is saying to you, 
 " My son, give me thine heart," Oh that in the 
 silence, unheard by all but God, might fall the filial 
 utterance, " Father, I give Thee thine ! I can 
 withhold no longer. Forgive my sin. Accept my 
 
 life." 
 
 " Trone to wander, Lord I feel it, 
 Prone to leave the God I love ; 
 Here's my heart, oh take and seal it, 
 Seal it for thy courts above !" 
 
THE 
 
 WITNESS FOR THE TRUTH 
 
THE WITNESS FOR THE TRUTH 
 
 " To this end was I born, and for this cause came I into the 
 world, that I should bear witness unto the truth." 
 
 John xviii. 37. 
 
 There is in the realm of spirit a kingdom of 
 Truth and a kingdom of Untruth. Satan is en- 
 throned in one and Christ reigns lord of the other. 
 As the night opposes the day and overcomes it, 
 and then the morning giant with his solar spear 
 pierces the heart of midnight and scatters the 
 guerilla bands of twilight that would fain defend 
 their ebon ruler, till at last, invested with its mantle 
 of glory and stretching its sceptre over the globe 
 from east to west, the victorious sun is hailed as 
 king by the adoration of flower and bird and man, 
 —so in the spiritual world there is to be a corre- 
 sponding victory. The light of heaven is to dis- 
 perse the gloom of earth. The prince of darkness 
 is to be bound in chains, and the archangel of 
 Truth, with the sharp sword of the Almighty, is to 
 hold him prisoner till the eternal judgment. 
 
 As Jesus stands before the bar of Pilate, he sets 
 
io6 Sermons. 
 
 forth his cUim to royalty. My kingdom, says the 
 divine prisoner, is not of this world. Pilate 
 answers with the queston, "Art thou a king then ?" 
 To this Jesus makes response, " Thou sayest what 
 I am. I am a king. I have a kingdom. It is not 
 built on earthly bases. It is not sustained by force. 
 It is a kingdom of principles, of moral influences, 
 of divine ideas, regnant in the character and life of 
 men. All that obey the truth are my subjects. 
 For this royalty I was crowned before the world 
 began. In divine preexistence I was the King of 
 Truth. To this end was I born, and for this cause 
 came I into the world, that I might bear witness 
 unto the truth." 
 
 These then are the themes suggested for our 
 discourse, viz., the Truth, Christ's witness for it, 
 and its claims upon us. 
 
 We may enter upon the subject with the inquiry. 
 What is the truth for which Christ came into the 
 world as witness .^ 
 
 We do not, with Pilate, indifferent to spiritual 
 realities and even doubting their very existence, 
 exclaim '* What is truth .?" as if it were a figment 
 of Jesus' imagination, — and then pass away from 
 Him who has himself the crystal truth, without 
 waiting for an answer. We link the truth with 
 Jesus. We deem it as vital and as potent as the 
 Christ, as real as the very anointed God. We dis- 
 
The Witness for the Truth, 107 
 
 cern that untruth is delusion and vanity and non- 
 entity : that truth is the fixed pole around which 
 all moral faculties in God and man revolve : that 
 it is the goal toward which our aspirations 
 tend : that it is the throne on which the ransomed 
 spirit reigns : that it is eternal, regal and divine : 
 that God is truth and truth is God, 
 
 I. — Of this truth, fatherless and motherless, per- 
 manent and absolute, Christ is the incarnate wit- 
 ness. He comes, first, to declare the reality cf 
 things invisible to men. 
 
 Is there a personal God creating and controlling 
 men t Is there a heaven .'* Is there a hell .^ Is 
 there an existence after death } Are there indeed 
 things invisible, inaudible — things that cannot be 
 touched with the senses, which are more substan- 
 tial than flesh or rock, which men were born to 
 live for ? Is there a God ? Tell us, O nature, with 
 thy geometric symphonies, with thy world-encir- 
 cling ocean, with thy autumn glories and thy ver- 
 nal wealth of flowers ! We listen, and catch a dis- 
 tant murmuring sound which may be the echo of 
 the infinite ; but it is not clear. Tell us, O soul, 
 with thine aspirations and affinities for something 
 diviner than the coarse life of men, with thy subtle 
 intuitions and clairvoyant sympathies, — is it true 
 there is a God } But the harp of the soul is string- 
 less and discordant, and while we wait for its utter- 
 
io8 Sermons. 
 
 ance, vague sense of laws and mystery environ us. 
 The heavens are blank. Our prayers are empty 
 breath. The din of the world is deafening. We 
 bow our aching heads in solitude and desolation, 
 and sigh " Peradventure there is no God." 
 
 We bend our weary feet to the cemetery to find 
 the flowers that mark the bed in which the sacred 
 dust is sleeping. Is it a sleeping } Shall there 
 ever be a waking } Is this hope of a glorious re- 
 surrection which finds expression over the doors 
 of the vaults a reality } or a delusion to be oblit- 
 erated, as the epitaphs themselves and the marble 
 that contains them, by the progress of the ages .'* 
 And what of heaven .'' Is it the sky and the clouds 
 heaved up above us } Oh, that the clouds might 
 scatter and the sky might cleave, that we might 
 wander in the stars or wherever our lost treasures 
 are, and in their love, at least, find heaven ! 
 
 And is there too a hell, a place where they who 
 are base and false and cruel and unjust and covetous 
 and unclean, shall at last suffer the penalties of sin 
 which they have defied and mocked on earth } Or 
 is this too a dream of superstition, a heathen imag- 
 ination, a priestly lie } Is there no voyager in 
 those unknown lands to come into the world to 
 bear witness to the truth } 
 
 Lo ! Here is Christ, the true and faithful wit- 
 ness. As in the conception of the poet, Dante 
 
The Witness for the Trtith. 109 
 
 journeyed with Virgil and Beatrice through realms 
 of the lost and the blessed, saw with his own eyes 
 the inscription over the gates of hell, heard with 
 his own ears the songs of martyrs and apostles, 
 caught a glimpse of the divine essence " environed 
 with the angelic hierarchies," and thus stood spell 
 bound like a pilgrim who has reached his shrine ; 
 till at length, recovering, the traveler returns to tell 
 the listening earth the story ; — even so does Christ 
 come into the world to declare the truths of spirit- 
 ual existence. He comes to speak of that which 
 He does know. There is a heaven, for it is His 
 Father's house. There is a hell, for He has seen 
 the rich man there in torment. There is a resur- 
 rection, for He himself has welcomed millions of 
 the saints. There is a God over all, for He himself 
 is]God manifest in the flesh that men may see Him, 
 hear Him, handle Him, love Him if they will. 
 
 Passing on from this fundamental revelation, we 
 see that Christ bears witness to the character of 
 God, as based in compassion, humiliation and love. 
 A supreme personal being exists. But who or what 
 is God } The conceptions of mankind have been 
 very .remote from the truth. Their gods have been 
 the product of their own imaginations and have par- 
 taken of their character. Cruel men had bloody 
 gods, as Moloch and Thor. Impure men had im- 
 pure gods like Jupiter and Vishnu. Bigoted and 
 
1 10 Sermons. 
 
 selfish men had gods for their own locaHties who 
 were enemies to the rest of mankind, Even the 
 most enlightened conception was that of a being of 
 great power, who was enthroned in celestial mag' 
 nificence, and who ruled the worlds with the iron 
 rod of law. Such a being was in accordance with 
 men's ideas of empire, God was a thunderbolt, 
 A heavenly Father interested in the welfare of his 
 children, with a heart that could be wounded by 
 their pangs, willing to be wounded for their sake, 
 abandoning all His regal glory to come and dwell 
 with them, entering the world by a stable door and 
 departing from it by a malefactor's gibbet, this ideal 
 of divinity was a profanation and an absurdity, 
 Christ came into the world to tell them that never- 
 theless this ideal was the real. That the true 
 greatness of God was in His humiliation ; that His 
 highest happiness was in co-passion with the 
 wretched ; that never was God so regal as when in 
 Christ He washed the feet of the disciples ; never 
 was he so adorable as when mingling sorrowful tears 
 with the woes of the bereaved sisters of Bethany ; 
 never was He so truly divine as when He turned 
 His thorn-crowned head to forgive the dying thief 
 on Calvary. Men might reject this conception, the 
 Greeks might make it foolishness and the Jews a 
 stumbling block. But Christ proclaimed it as the 
 truth, and summoned all men to fashion their lives 
 according to that divine original. 
 
The Witness for the Tnith, iii 
 
 Christ came into the world, still further, to bear 
 witness to the truth pertaining to humanity. He 
 came to instruct men in those reciprocal duties of 
 brotherly affection and equality which have their 
 root in the divine love and blossom downwards. 
 
 When Christ came into the world, the ignorance 
 of man as man, was almost rayless. Such a thing 
 as the rights of man, was indeed unknown. There 
 were rights for rulers, rights for priests, rights for 
 philosophers, rights for favored classes or individ- 
 uals, but there were no rights for men. The same 
 pride and selfishness which enthroned God in dis- 
 tant and inaccessible indifference to the wants of 
 the world, made the higher classes indifferent and 
 inaccessible also to those beneath them. By as 
 much as they raised God up, by so much they drag- 
 ged men down. What is generally thought of as 
 an East Indian system was in fact the system of 
 the whole ancient world. It was organized on the 
 basis of caste, on the absolute domination of the 
 highest, and the inferiority and oppression of the 
 lowest. The Jews had their outermost court for 
 the Gentiles, the next for the women, and worshiped 
 by themselves in the third. The Greeks regarded 
 *all outside of their own civilization as barbarians. 
 The Roman looked down with sovereign contempt 
 upon them all, and made them all either his sub- 
 jects or his slaves. The world was based on pride. 
 
112 Sermons. 
 
 selfishness and hatred when Christ revealed the 
 doctrine of humanity. He infused into men's 
 hearts the new law of love. His injunction was 
 ** Love thy neighbor as thyself," and when the ques- 
 tion was asked, Who is my neighbor } as if it might 
 simply mean an acquaintance or a friend on a level 
 with ourselves. He showed by a "most expressive 
 parable that men as far apart in feeling and condi- 
 tion as the lordly Jew and the despised Samaritan, 
 in the sight of God were neighbors ; that in fact 
 the term neighbor included all the race, that all 
 men were made nigh-boring by the blood of Christ, 
 and that all men should be kind to each other be- 
 cause they are kinned ; that thus all mankind 
 should have man-kindness. Christ himself sets the 
 great example. He loves all, He died for all, and 
 leaves the new commandment, " Love one another, 
 as I have loved you." 
 
 Such is the truth, in its various elements, to which 
 Jesus Christ bore witness. But when we seek for 
 the unification of these different sides of truth in 
 one clear crystal ; when we would see, not truths, 
 but their totality, immortal, immutable and divine, 
 we must seek it in the nature of Him who said / 
 am the Truth. As the gem which glistens in the 
 coronet of a monarch, holds in its translucent 
 breast all the prismatic colors, the red, the green, 
 the orange and the blue, yet these separate hues 
 
. The Witness for the Truth. 113 
 
 are no longer visible, but braided together as if by 
 the craft of angels into one pure, etherial strand of 
 light, so in the brightness of the Redeemer's glory 
 all truths combine their principles and shine in the 
 oneness of that divinity which is human, and that 
 humanity which is divine. By His very birth and 
 coming into the world, Christ bore witness to the 
 truth embosomed in his own existence. 
 
 II. — But let us enquire more particularly into 
 the nature of his witness. 
 
 As a teacher, Christ uttered His testimony of 
 man and God, of perdition and salvation. In the 
 temple at Jerusalem, in the houses of his followers, 
 by the bedside of the sick, on the sea shore and on 
 the mountain, Christ ever confessed His own truth, 
 and urged it upon the convictions of others in the 
 spirit of love. But Christ not only spoke the truth. 
 He lived it. According to the fine distinction of 
 the apostle, He did not merely give oral utterance 
 to truth, but vital expression. He truthed it in 
 love. His life revealed His devotion to the truth 
 He was entrusted with a precious treasure, which 
 he was to defend from enemies and impart to those 
 who would receive it. It was God's truth. It was 
 truth pertaining to welfare here and salvation here- 
 after. It was truth which men must have or die. 
 With this appreciation of the inestimable value and 
 prime necessity of truth, was associated the con- 
 
114 Sermons, 
 
 sciousness of his own mission as a witness for it. 
 He might proclaim it and talk it. He might work 
 mighty miracles to give evidence of its divine origin 
 But He could do more than this. He could suffer 
 for it. He could live homeless and poor, could be a 
 man of sorrows, could be despised of all and hated 
 of all, could drink the full goblet of crucifixion to 
 the bottom in attestation and defense of what God 
 had given to His keeping. Thus Christ did. His 
 whole life was as steady to the truth as the steps of 
 the pilgrim to the shrine, or the course of the sailor 
 to his star. He uttered mighty words, but every 
 word was mightier because it was armed with all 
 the force of His unselfish life. The scoffing words 
 of the bystanders at the cross were true ; He saved 
 others, himself He could not save. He was in the 
 highest sense of the word a witness, a martyr to 
 the truth. Witness means martyrdom. And as 
 Jesus lived for the truth, so it was just as normal, 
 just as needful, that He should die for it, and con- 
 summate the witness as the forerunner of that im- 
 mortal host who, in after ages, by fire and sword and 
 hungry beasts, and by every form of persecution, 
 should attest their allegiance to the King of Truth, 
 and challenge death and torment to vanquish their 
 devotion. 
 
 But even yet we do not reach the central 
 thought. Christ proclaimed the truth, lived for it^ 
 
The Witness for the Truth, 1 1 5 
 
 and died for it But here is the secret of His power. 
 He recognized this witness to the truth as the end 
 of His existence. He does not merely say to Pon- 
 tius Pilate, I love the truth ; I am willing to suffer 
 in its defense, to die if need be to attest man's need 
 of it. But He says with far deeper meaning, " To 
 this end was I boniy and for this cause came I into 
 the world, that I might bear witness unto the truth. 
 If I had not come from heaven to live for the truth, 
 to endure sacrifices for it and to offer up my life in 
 its defense, I never should have left heaven at all. 
 Devotion to the truth is the end and object of my 
 being. I came to prove the reality of God, the depth 
 and boundlessness of His paternal affection, the 
 veneration that is due to humanity, the possibility 
 of purity to the sinful and of salvation to the lost. 
 To deny my mission or to neglect it, were to slay 
 my own existence." 
 
 Such is the truth committed unto Christ and 
 such is Christ's devotion to it. You perceive the 
 idea. It is as if a soldier were entrusted with the 
 honor and life of his country. His words and 
 prayers are patriotic. But this is not all. Where- 
 ever the enemy is in sight, there the young hero is 
 flashing his weapon and struggling in the storm 
 of contest. He is hungry. What of that ? He is 
 thirsty. What of that ? He must toil by day and 
 watch through weary nights. What of that ? He 
 
ii6 Sermons. 
 
 must be excluded from the love of the home 
 circle. What of that ? He must press the bloody 
 stretcher while his comrades are charging the flying 
 foe. What of that } He did not enlist for comfort 
 or for safety. He did not expect that the battle- 
 field would remind him much of home. But he had 
 made up his mind that the soldier of the Republic, 
 the guardian hero of its honor and salvation, must 
 be ready to endure privation, to face danger, to 
 smile at death, to count all things but loss for the 
 sake of his country. To this end he registered his 
 name on the roll of the defenders ; for this he put 
 on the uniform. For this cause he enlisted in the 
 army, and should he by cowardice or desertion or 
 neglect of duty fail to put forth every faculty of 
 mind and body for the life of the nation and the 
 destruction of its enemies, it would prove not 
 simply that he was unworthy of his exalted trust, 
 but that he had defeated the very object for which 
 he was made a soldier. As a soldier, to this end 
 was he born and for this cause came he unto the 
 world, that he might, in hospital groanings or bat- 
 tle thunders, bear witness to the truth. 
 
 This was the ideal which was before the mind of 
 Christ, and this is the mission to which He sum- 
 mons His followers, when He say s, *' they that are of 
 the truth hear my voice." 
 
 ni. — That truth which in its unity is the same, 
 
The Witness for the Truth, 117 
 
 everywhere and forever, will nevertheless vary in 
 its aspect as it turns toward God or man. Truth 
 is one, like the ocean ; yet that ocean is composed 
 of multitudinous waves. Truth is immutable, like 
 God ; yet God varies in His manifestation according 
 to the changes in human character. In different 
 ages special portions of truth will be most appreciated 
 and defended. In the time of the Israelitish proph- 
 ets, that truth will be the Unity of God. In the 
 time of the apostles, the inclusion of the Gentiles 
 within the bounds of God's favor. In the time of 
 Luther, justification by faith. In the days of the 
 Puritans, freedom to worship God without restraint 
 from earthly rulers. In the days of the Revolution, 
 the right of men to govern themselves in secular 
 affairs. In our own day, the declaration of our 
 fathers in its full significance and intent, viz. : that 
 all men are created free and equal and have the in- 
 alienable right of liberty. But now, as in the be- 
 ginning, the totality of truth will be found in the 
 being of Jesus, and while we rightfully defend that 
 attribute which is most in jeopardy, we are ever 
 summoned to maintain the whole in its indivisible 
 integrity. To the truth as it is in Jesus, whether it 
 relate to God or to humanity, we are bound to bear 
 our witness. We may not simply receive the 
 truth and absorb it, for this is not to be a witness. 
 There must in some way be a declaration of it and 
 
ii8 Sermons. 
 
 for it. In some sense or other, for some truth or 
 other, every man is born to be a martyr. 
 
 The repetition of this word martyr suggests at 
 once various reasons why men will not discharge 
 their obligation in the witness for the truth. Men 
 do not like to be martyrs even in those trifling 
 forms of martyrdom which are found in modern 
 society. Men shrink now from contemptuous opin- 
 ion, from nicknames, from unfashionableness, from 
 controversy, from charge of one-idea and radical- 
 ism, with more trepidation and dismay than did the 
 first followers of truth when the fires were kindling 
 which were to burn their bodies, and the lions were 
 roaring which were to feast upon their blood. 
 
 Truth is ever robed in homespun. It is apt to 
 be unpopular so long as it needs to be defended. 
 When it is inaugurated as King, the multitude 
 hasten with their tribute of attachment and rever- 
 ence, and intimate complacently that to them the 
 truth is indebted for its coronation. But there is a 
 long, dark time in which truth is crownless and 
 persecuted. It is with the truth as with Him who 
 made it incarnate. Jesus says, " I am the truth." 
 And how did Jesus come into the world } In such 
 fashion that men hid as it were their faces from 
 Him, so that He was despised and rejected of men. 
 He was hated of all, persecuted by the wealth and 
 rank and religion of His time, and at last put to 
 
The Witness for the Tnitk 119 
 
 death. It was an easy thing for Peter to say that 
 Jesus was the Messiah, when he was at ease, with 
 
 friends, upon the seashore. It was not so easy in 
 the house of the high priest at midnight and among 
 foes. It was a small thing to bear witness when 
 the children cried hosanna, and the multitude 
 strewed their garments for Jesus to ride over ; but 
 it was something that tested the sincerity of the 
 soul, to confess Him as Saviour, when He was hang- 
 ing in crucifixion and the mob were feasting on 
 His sufferings. But it was just as needful to bear 
 witness upon Calvary as upon Olivet. To defend 
 when no defense is needed, to applaud when all 
 men are joining in the chorus, and then to desert 
 the cause just when it needs us most, and deny the 
 Saviour just when our love might be an angel's 
 strength to Him, this is the way of mankind. 
 
 Is it not so now "i Take the most unpopular 
 truth you can think of, one that is a root out of dry 
 ground, one which has been stigmatized, spit upon, 
 buffeted, mocked and crowned with thorns and 
 almost crucified) the truth that the color which 
 God puts upon a man's skin does not nullify his 
 right to manhood and brotherhood ; a truth which 
 is one of the very rudiments of the teaching of 
 Christ ; and what even to-day is the attitude of 
 men toward it 1 I will not say, what is the attitude 
 of rebels, of sinners who regard neither the claims 
 
120 Sermons, 
 
 of God nor man, but I ask, what is your own re- 
 sponse, with all your illumination, your progressive- 
 ness, your world-embracing sympathy? Here is a 
 race of weak and lowly men and women who, it is 
 said, are far our inferiors. Let it be granted that 
 they have little intellect, that they are feeble in 
 capacity, that their moral sense is dulled by depri- 
 vation, for many generations, of all that can exalt 
 and enlarge the soul. Granted that they are out- 
 raged and oppressed because they are so lowly and 
 so weak. There was a time, in what is called the 
 dark ages, when the fact that men were weak and 
 women helpless, beneath the power of the infidel 
 and the oppressor, drew forth the Christian knight 
 from his castle and summoned his flaming sword 
 from its scabbard, never to be sheathed till the cap* 
 tive should be delivered and the oppressor slain, 
 These were the days of chivalry. But now we 
 have been wont to apply the term to rich men who 
 robbed the hireling of his wages and ground the 
 face of the poor. They, forsooth, have been the 
 chivalry of a Christian nation, who violated inno- 
 cence, who tortured those that had no helper, and 
 supplied their luxury and indolence by bereaving 
 captive mothers of their children and selling them 
 for gold. This is the awful crime that has black- 
 ened all the pages of our national history. If there 
 is any truth which to-day ought to find a universal 
 
The Witness for the Truth, 12I 
 
 and intense expression, it is the heaven-defying 
 wickedness of the spirit of caste, which can make 
 injustice to the colored race for an instant toler- 
 able. This must be the principle — equal manhood 
 in Adam and equal brotherhood in Christ — to which, 
 at this hour, we are in duty bound to give our wit- 
 ness as hearers of the voice of Truth ? Yet think 
 of the awful consequences ! The avowal of such a 
 truth might awaken opposition on the part of our 
 acquaintance or our connexions. It might make 
 us less welcome in the most respected circles. It 
 might even curtail the profits of our business or 
 our profession. It might even draw down upon 
 our devoted heads the excruciating penalty of being 
 ostracized for radicalism. 
 
 Therefore we must be worldly-wise. We must 
 repress our sentiments. We must get along with 
 conservative society. We must pray good Lord, 
 good devil. In other words, we must refrain from 
 bearing witness for the truth. 
 
 Oh, how different from the spirit of the early 
 time, when the apostle Paul, stoned and beaten and 
 driven into strange cities, cried out, "1 am not 
 ashamed of the gospel of Christ. Woe is me if I 
 preach not the gospel." 
 
 How different from the holy boldness of Polycarp 
 and Luther and Ridley, and of those who crossed 
 the ocean for their Saviour's sake ! Yes, how dif- 
 
 6 
 
122 Sermons. 
 
 ferent from those heroic men of the generation 
 which is now passing, men, it may be, of erroneous 
 religious opinion, of false social theories, men who 
 sometimes may have used denunciation where less 
 fiery indignation would better have accomplished 
 the purpose ; yet men with great souls resolutely 
 fixed upon great destinies, who believed in Jesus 
 and in humanity, who led the forlorn hope of the 
 battle of emancipation, who were outlawed by the 
 church, pelted by the mob, imprisoned by the law, 
 scorned of all men and hated of all men, yet with 
 sublime faith and courage toiling on, speaking with 
 tongues of men and angels, enduring all poverty 
 and affliction, that, even over their trampled bodies 
 and their dishonored graves, the poor despised 
 negro might reach the liberty with which the Lord 
 Jesus makes all men free. 
 
 These were the martyrs of that cause which to- 
 day is almost triumphant, which has burst the cere- 
 ments and removed the napkin and is ready to 
 emerge from the sepulcher. These men stood be- 
 fore the bar of public opinion and before the tri- 
 bunals of the Pilates who were to condemn them, 
 saying calmly, " To this end was I born, and for 
 this cause came I into the world, that I might bear 
 witness unto the truth." 
 
 The end for which these men lived was the end 
 for which they were born. The end for which 
 
The Witness for the Truth. 123 
 
 Jesus lived was the end for which He was born. 
 How is it with ourselves ? What is the object for 
 which God created us ? To be comfortable ? To 
 be famous ? To be rich ? To be intelligent ? To 
 be happy ? To be popular ? No ! These are all 
 subordinate. They are all as nothing in compari- 
 son with the intent of God. This is the end of 
 your existence, that, like the dying witness whose 
 farewell utterance has become a watchword of the 
 church, you might "stand up for Jesus." To this end 
 you were born, and for this cause you came into the 
 world, that you might bear witness unto the truth. 
 Think you that God lavished so much greatness 
 upon you that you might lead a petty, mean and 
 selfish life t God did not create India rubber 
 merely to rub out pencil marks. Neither did He 
 forge the lightnings to shock the knuckles of phi- 
 losophers. He meant the one to enter into all the 
 recesses of men's comfort and supply the needs of 
 peace and war. And He intended the other to be 
 the spinal cord of the nations, binding the world in 
 amity. And God made you with upward gaze in- 
 tent on heaven, with your faculties of intelligence 
 and knowledge, your soul akin to that of angels 
 and endowed with immortality, that you might 
 accomplish something worthy of your origin and 
 destiny. Christ tells you what this is. You are 
 foreordained to be the champion of the truth. 
 
124 Sermons. 
 
 Why were you not born in some inconspicuous 
 era, when all things slid in their grooves of tradition, 
 and no celestial messenger of truth was waking 
 the world with his advent ? Why did God give 
 you existence in this latter day, when the nations 
 are contending ; when the welfare of the race, the 
 rights of humanity and the supremacy of Christ 
 were to be decided by the stern-faced armies which 
 were marching along our streets, and by the 
 fidelity of the people to justice and righteousness, 
 even at the expense of fortune, tears and blood ? 
 Was it to compromise with iniquity ? To suppress 
 your convictions ? To shirk from sacrifices ? To act 
 as though it were a dishonor, which needed some 
 expurgation, if you were on the side of the element- 
 ary principles of the Christian religion ? God 
 created you to stand in this very gap. In this 
 great spiritual conflict, God is calling for men. 
 You have no right to find a substitute. Your work, 
 your prayer, your voice, your vote, must be on the 
 side of freedom and righteousness and equal 
 justice, or else you are a moral suicide. You 
 defeat the very object for which your Creator 
 breathed into your nostrils the breath of life. 
 
 I say this to all men, saints and sinners. But if 
 you have the love of God in your heart, if you are 
 born again with the Second birth, then the destiny 
 which was fixed upon you by the very fact of your 
 
The Witness for the Truth. 125 
 
 existence, is made inevitable by your regeneration. 
 Why were you created anew by the Spirit of God, 
 unless to bear witness to the truth of God ? If 
 every man is to hear the words of Jesus at the bar 
 of Pontius Pilate, then are you, beyond all others, 
 bound to witness a good confession. If, as a man, 
 you have whispered truth, then, as a Christian, 
 whisper no longer. Speak now, as the tempest 
 does, louder and stronger. If, as a man, you have 
 been a witness against unrighteousness, then 
 as a Christian, be a martyr. To this end Christ 
 died for you, and for this cause the Holy Ghost 
 moved with gracious influence on your heart, that 
 you might cling to this truth of God though all 
 men deny it and desert it. 
 
 This is the mission of the Christian. This is 
 the mission of the Christian religion. For this in- 
 tent this church through God was organized. For 
 this its sacramental feasts are solemnized. For 
 this the ministry was born. . For this your pastor 
 was set apart with solemn ordination. For this 
 your brow received the baptismal symbol and your 
 confession was made before many earthly and many 
 heavenly witnesses. And now, as if Christ him- 
 self stood scourged and crowned with thorns be- 
 side me, I beseech you to be faithful to that truth 
 for which you live and move and have your being. 
 
 Whatever else God may have given you, He has 
 
1 26 Sermons. 
 
 at least endowed you with life. This life is truth's 
 and God's. Fidelity to truth and God is the com- 
 prehensive talent for which we shall be accountable 
 hereafter. And though, in our lowly sphere, we 
 may be able to do no more than to stand with 
 Mary speechless at the foot of the cross on which 
 our Lord is suffering, yet that presence is itself a 
 witness. The eye of the dying Christ shall see 
 you. The glory of the risen Christ shall crown 
 you, in His kingdom. 
 
 Therefore I repeat to you, to be graven on your 
 memories and on your hearts with everlasting re- 
 membrance, what we perceive to be the chief end 
 of man. Think of it. Pray over it. Live with 
 it in view. To this end you were born, and for 
 this cause you came into the vrorld, that you might 
 bear witness unto the truth. 
 
THE CHRISTIAN 
 DOCTRINE OF LOYALTY. 
 
THE CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE OF 
 LOYALTY. 
 
 " And Saul also went home to Gibeah ; and there went with him 
 a band of men, whose hearts God had touched. But the children 
 of Belial said, How shall this man save us ? And they despised 
 him, and brought him no presents. But he held his peace," 
 
 I Sam. X. 26, 27. 
 
 Loyalty, in its primary signification, denotes at- 
 tachment to law. Law is its basis in character, as 
 the term is the root in the structure of the word. 
 Loyalty in its structure is simply law-alty. It is 
 devotion to what is laid down as the rule for action 
 in a civil community. 
 
 But as law becomes complex, and is organized 
 into institutions and systems and constitutions of 
 government, loyalty partakes of that wider meaning, 
 and grows with the growth of its root — principle. 
 Thus it comes to signify fidelity to the existing 
 government, of whatever form that government 
 may be. 
 
 And finally, as there can be no government with- 
 out some visible, recognized head as executive or 
 administrator, loyalty at length includes devotion to 
 such executive magistrate, whether he be Czar or 
 Caesar, King or President. 
 
132 Sermons. • 
 
 One of the earliest examples of this loyalty, and 
 of its opposite, is exhibited to us in the brief but sig- 
 nificant narrative of the text. In conformity with 
 the desire of the people of Israel, the form of gov- 
 ernment had been changed from a judgeship to a 
 monarchy. God himself had selected the candidate 
 for the throne, and appointed the method of his elec- 
 tion. By the ancient procedure in solemn cases, 
 the king was elected by lot. The lot fell upon Saul. 
 And the prophet Samuel said to all the people, 
 See ye him whom the Lord has chosen ; and all the 
 people shouted and said, God save the king. 
 But when the first tumult of enthusiasm had died 
 away, it was evident that there were, in the nation, 
 two opposite parties ; one of them favoring and 
 supporting the new monarch, and the other thwart- 
 ing him and despising him. One band went home 
 with Saul to Gibeah and paid him gladly the trib- 
 ute of obedience. These were men whose hearts 
 God had touched, or in other words, men of moral 
 excellence and piety. The other set refused to ren- 
 der the immemorial token of allegiance to a new 
 ruler, the present of raiment or of cattle or of silver. 
 They even made light of the candidate whom God 
 had chosen, comparing him unfavorably with others 
 on whom their hopes had been fixed. They de- 
 spised Saul, and said with a sneer, '' How shall this 
 man save us r This disloyal faction are called in 
 
The Christian Doctrine of Loyalty, 133 
 
 the text " children of Belial," which means, in the 
 Hebrew, reckless, lawless, good-for-nothing fellows. 
 The principle here involved is susceptible of uni- 
 versal application. Loyalty always comes from 
 God, and disloyalty from Belial. . In other words, 
 loyalty is not an empty theory, it is not a matter of 
 personal option, or the creature of human enact- 
 ment. Men are under the same obligation to be 
 loyal that they are to be honest, truthful, or chaste. 
 
 It is an essential element of morality. Loyalty 
 is virtue, and disloyalty is sin. Such in its general 
 principle is the teaching of the text. 
 
 I shall therefore take the opportunity of this 
 Thanksgiving day, when the loyal people of the 
 land have assembled, not only, in accordance with 
 custom, to celebrate the ordinary mercies of the 
 year, but also, at the invitation of the Chief Magis- 
 trate of the nation, to thank God for the preservation 
 of the nation's existence, — to analyze the foundation 
 principles upon which loyalty rests. It will be my aim 
 to enforce the propositions already stated, and to show 
 in brief, that all men are under a divine obligation 
 to be loyal to the government under which they live. 
 
 Of this sacred obligation, the main proof will be 
 found in the divine origin of government. 
 
 If government is a human arrangement merely, 
 then the claim on men's loyalty can go no deeper. 
 Disloyalty may be a formal trespass, without in- 
 
1 34 Sermons. 
 
 volving any moral obliquity. But, if government is 
 the ordination of God, then disloyalty to the govern- 
 ment becomes disobedience to God, and loyalty 
 becomes a Christian duty, as binding as the obliga- 
 tion of obedience to the ten commandments. 
 
 With reference to the origin of human government, 
 there are two great opposing theories. One is the 
 infidel theory of a social contract ; the other the 
 scriptural theory of a divine ordination. 
 
 I.— The doctrine of a social contract as consti- 
 tuting the basis of civil authority, found its chief sup- 
 port, if not its origin, in the imagination of the French 
 philosopher Rousseau and his political school. 
 
 According to this theory, ''The existence of so- 
 ciety is optional with men and is due to their 
 voluntary consent. Indi-viduals are bound by the 
 social bond, only because, and so far as, they have 
 agreed to be bound. This false dogma of a social 
 contract is laid at the foundation of the edifice. 
 It is farther held that the individual in entering 
 society surrenders all his rights to the community, 
 and through this common act of all, there instantly 
 arises the body politic. To the community thus 
 formed belongs sovereignty. The general will is 
 now the supreme law."* This theory was ardently 
 adopted by Robespierre and his party in the con- 
 vulsions of the French Revolution and Reign of 
 
 * Prof. G. P. Fisher, in "New Englander," vol. xxiii. p. 12. 
 
The Christian Doctrine of Loyalty. 135 
 
 Terror, because it seemed to put all men on the 
 same political level, and created civil society with- 
 out the intervention of the Supreme Being. 
 
 A few considerations will be sufficient to show 
 the fallacy of this plausible but baseless doctrine of 
 a social contract. 
 
 (i) In the first place, upon this theory there 
 could be no obligation to obedience, except on those 
 who had a share in making the government. If the 
 sole basis of authority is the voluntary agreement 
 of each individual in the community, then, where 
 there is no such agreement, there can be no obliga- 
 tion. This is a kind of social conglomerate, in 
 which some of the citizens are bound to obey and 
 some of them are not. But such a state of things 
 is not government. It is anarchy. 
 
 This fatal difficulty has driven the admirers of 
 the contract school to desperate straits. It is 
 objected that this theory would demand the consent 
 of every succeeding generation to the agreement 
 made by their predecessors. To this one writer 
 replies that society has a corporate existence ; that 
 we live and act therefore in our ancestors ; that 
 just as we all sinned in Adam, so we all made a 
 contract in the persons of the first founders of the 
 state, and consequently are holden to the contract. 
 
 In reply to this ingenious assertion, one may 
 well ask whether, if we contracted in our forefathers. 
 
1 36 Sermons. 
 
 we did not also obey in them, and so are released 
 from any farther responsibility ? Or, how can we 
 be sure that our individual ancestors were parties 
 to the contract of obedience? Might not they, 
 since it was a matter of personal preference and 
 option, have refused to have anything to do with 
 the arrangement, and insisted on their own in- 
 dividual liberty? Then if the ancestors did not 
 consent to the original contract, of course their 
 posterity would be free from obligation ; and we 
 have, in consequence, the remarkable example of 
 a state, in which some are bound to be loyal and 
 obedient citizens, and others among them, but not 
 of them, have a veto-power on all legislation so far 
 as concerns themselves ; who having, as we may 
 suppose, never agreed to be bound by the laws, can 
 rob and kill, not only with impunity, but also with- 
 out blame. 
 
 Another writer, no less a philosopher than 
 Thomas Jefferson, who was, as we know, strongly 
 imbued with French theories of government, main- 
 tained that the binding force of civil authority must 
 depend upon the consent of each succeeding gen- 
 eration : and he would provide for this consent by a 
 .periodical return to a state of nature, in which all laws 
 and constitutions are annihilated and are to be re- 
 created by another social compact. Lest you may 
 think this statement an exaggeration, I will quote, 
 
The Christian Doctrine of Loyalty. 137 
 
 from a letter to Madison, a paragraph containing 
 the details of this marvelous theory. " The earth," 
 says Jefferson, "belongs always to the living gen- 
 eration. They may manage it, then, and what pro- 
 ceeds from it, as they please during their usufruct. 
 They are masters too, of their own persons, and 
 consequently may govern them as they please. 
 But persons and property make the sum of the 
 objects of government. The constitution and the 
 laws are extinguished then, in their natural course, 
 with those who gave them being. This will pre- 
 serve that being till it ceases to be itself, and no 
 longer. Every constitution then and every law 
 naturally expires at the end of every thirty -four 
 years. If it be enforced longer, it is an act of 
 force and not of right." 
 
 Now since this monstrous proposal of a tri-centen- 
 nial revolution, in which all the laws and institutions 
 of the past should perish, would be the destruction of 
 all settled and progressive government; and since it is 
 the natural deduction from the social contract theory, 
 we might well discard that theory with abhorrence. 
 But it is instructive to notice that Jefferson's plan 
 fails in the very point for which he invents it. His 
 design is to secure the consent of every subject to 
 the laws by which he is governed. But how can 
 this be secured by a mass meeting three times a 
 century } Generations are made up of individuals, 
 
138 Sermons. 
 
 and these individuals are daily and continually 
 coming to birth and passing away from existence. 
 What then becomes of all those who come to be of 
 age and die in the course of thirty-four years ? 
 They have never given their ratification to the ex- 
 istent laws, because they can, by the theory, have 
 had no opportunity. The only privilege which is 
 left to them, therefore, is to start a private revolu- 
 tion of their own after the manner of Jefferson 
 Davis ; and according to the theory, they are justi- 
 fied in thus proceeding, because they had no share 
 in creating the government. And futhermore, since 
 the sober sense of the American people has never 
 consented to jeopardize the authority of our free 
 institutions, by making their preservation or des- 
 truction optional every thirty^four years since the 
 adoption of the constitution, it follows, of course, 
 that we are no longer living under a free govern- 
 ment. It holds its power by force and not by 
 right. The Southern oracles then are correct. 
 We of the North are slaves, and they of the South 
 are patriots, contending for the inalienable right of 
 freemen. We may safely conclude that a theory 
 which results in such monstrous conclusions, is 
 radically unsound. 
 
 (2) But we will test the doctrine further. Its 
 fundamental proposition is, that previous to the ex- 
 istence of civil government, men living in a state of 
 
The Christian Doctrine of Loyalty. 139 
 
 nature, as it is termed, met together and made a 
 contract, by virtue of which the state was then and 
 there created ; but is this a historic fact or the play 
 of a sprightly imagination ? In the earliest period 
 of human society, when there were giants on the 
 earth, mighty men of dd, men of renown, and the 
 inhabitants were wandering barbarians, did they 
 all come together and agree with all the precision 
 of philosophers, to surrender their individual 
 rights to the commonwealth ? Was the beginning 
 of kingdoms in Babel and Assyria and Egypt thus 
 the offering of the popular will ? And was that 
 will in favor of the absolute despotisms by which 
 the people were obliterated from the notice of the 
 state ? Was such the origin of the French nation, 
 and of the British Constitution ? To all these in- 
 quiries the history of mankind answers in the nega- 
 tive. The fact is that, except in our own history, 
 nothing at all resembling this social compact of the 
 French theorists has been known since the crea- 
 tion of the world. 
 
 Even in American history, the apparent parallels 
 vanish upon closer examination. It is true that 
 the Massachusetts colonists did, before landing, 
 sign a compact in the cabin of the Mayflower, and 
 organize themselves into a government ; but that 
 they did not rest the obligation to obedience upon 
 the assent of each individual will, is evident from 
 
140 Sermons, 
 
 the fact that they made no provision for securing 
 the assent of their children to those civil institu- 
 tions into which they should be born. These men 
 did not indeed rest their charter upon their own 
 compact at all. They derived their powers, not 
 from each other, but from th^ source of all authority 
 and so began their solemn compact, " In the name 
 of God, amen." What they did was not to 
 originate a government, but out of the social ma- 
 terials imbued with the divine authority, to give 
 that pre-existing and invisible authority a formal 
 organization. 
 
 The illustration is rendered more complete, if we 
 turn from the Plymouth colony, to that which was 
 formed a few years later in New Haven. The 
 settlers who, under the lead of Davenport, founded 
 that plantation, did not proceed so fast as their 
 Massachusetts brethren. They existed under a 
 provisional agreement, called the plantation cove- 
 nant, for fourteen months before they adopted a 
 more formal and solemn constitution, and existed 
 for an indefinite period of some weeks or days, 
 with no covenant at all. 
 
 Now if the theory is correct, that the existence 
 of the state depended upon the compact, what was 
 the condition of things during the partial and pro- 
 visional plantation covenant } Was the colony less 
 a state then, less endowed with all the functions 
 
The Christian Doctrine of Loyalty, 14I 
 
 and sanctions of civil government, than fourteen 
 months afterwards ? And what was the condition 
 of affairs before the adoption even of the planta- 
 tion covenant ? Were the colonists in a state of 
 nature, with no right to defend their rights or pro- 
 vide for the common welfare, with no power or- 
 dained of God to maintain law and order ? Nay, 
 no skeptical malefactor, whatever his theories upon 
 the subject, would have ventured to have encoun- 
 tered that latent yet efficient majesty of law, which 
 would speedily have vindicated its right to punish 
 him. 
 
 The true source of authority both in church and 
 state, has been so admirably presented by a recent 
 writer, that I shall finish what I have to say in op- 
 position to the theory of the social-contract as the 
 source of government, by quoting his words. 
 
 "According to this theory, the colonists of New 
 Haven from the time when they came out from 
 under the ship's captain, at least until the close of 
 the first day of fasting and prayer when they 
 formed their provisional plantation covenant, were 
 in a state of nature. They were not a community, 
 but only the individuals who might become a com- 
 munity whenever they should agree to act in com- 
 mon. They Were not society, but only the raw 
 materials of society. There was neither a com- 
 monwealth nor a church among them, but only the 
 
142 Sermons. 
 
 possibility 6f these. By and by they concluded to 
 have a state and church, and so they got together 
 in a barn and created them, appointing officers 
 with divine authority for administering the func- 
 tions of the two institutions ; authority which, up 
 to that time, had not existed in the colony. Before 
 that, the execution of a malefactor would have been 
 an act of murder, either of private revenge or of 
 mob violence. Defensive hostilities against the 
 Indians would have been simply the fighting of 
 every man on his own hook, except so far as indi- 
 viduals might have chosen to club together accord- 
 ing to their preference for leaders. But any exercise 
 of command on the part of him to whom the instincts 
 of the people should turn as their natural military 
 leader, or any attempt to coerce the shirks and the 
 cowards into the common defense, would have been 
 an act of tyranny and usurpation, there having 
 been no unanimous, mutual agreement of the col- 
 onists to concede their individual rights to this 
 extent. And when, after experiencing the incon- 
 veniences of the state of nature, the colonists 
 began to frame their covenant, there was no right 
 among them to compel into the arrangement any 
 individual who preferred at his own risk, to live 
 among them but not of them, as a quiet and peace* 
 able outlaw. The uncovenanted citizen might be 
 derelict of a moral duty, in thus standing aloof 
 
The Christian Doctrine of Loyalty, I43 
 
 from the mutual engagements of the rest, but the 
 powers arising out of the agreement of ninety-nine 
 of the population could not extend over the one 
 hundredth man who had declined to be a party to 
 the contract." 
 
 Such are the inevitable and fatal difficulties 
 which environ the subject of government, if we 
 adopt the views of the Jacobin revolutionists and seek 
 to give to civil authority a merely human origin. 
 
 II. — It now remains for us to explain the opposing 
 theory, which has at least the advantage of being 
 intelligible ; and which regards the state as existing 
 independent of any formal agreement, by virtue of a 
 Divine authority, wherever men dwell together. 
 
 I wish, in the. first place, to show that this theory 
 is rational. We have seen that the contrary doc- 
 trine of the necessity of a formal consent to be in- 
 cluded in society and government, leads into a 
 labyrinth of error and absurdity. If now we turn 
 to the constitution of human nature as created by 
 God, we shall find that society and civil govern- 
 ment are involved in the very existence of man. 
 Man is a social being. When social beings are 
 brought together, there is society. Where there is 
 society, there is always a latent authority which, 
 when necessary, asserts its majesty, and this au- 
 thority, thus involved in the very fact of society, 
 comes from the divine Author of society and of man. 
 
144 Sermons. 
 
 Since therefore government depends upon socie- 
 ty, and society upon men's social nature, wherever 
 there are men, we have society ; and wherever 
 there is society, we have government, eithe.r with 
 formal organization or without it. Men brought 
 together into a social sphere will as naturally fall 
 into government of some kind, as stars fall into 
 orbits and steer clear of chaos. In the first rude ' 
 ages, the strongest will be chief The cunning will 
 be king, which is what the name implies. In more 
 refined ages and peoples, it may be arranged that 
 the wisest and best shall govern. Sometimes there 
 will be a government like that of Nimrod ; some- 
 times like that of the Pilgrim Fathers. Now it 
 will be like the constitutional monarchy of Eng« 
 land ; now that of the Vigilance Committee of Cali- 
 fornia. Government of some kind is necessary and 
 always exists. Its form of organism depends upon 
 the character and circumstances of the people. In 
 the English law it is held that the king never dies ; 
 and by this is asserted just this truth which we 
 have stated, that there never can be a gap or inter- 
 regnum in the government. Rulers may come and 
 go, laws may be enacted and repealed, but govern^ 
 ment in some shape is coeval with the life of nlert. 
 We have indeed read of a recent instance of a nidn 
 of eminent abilities, Who lived and died in Massa- 
 chusetts; Who never married, never voted, never 
 
The Christian Doctrine of Loyalty. 145 
 
 paid taxes, never went to church, never mingled with 
 society, who lived in the woods yet never used trap 
 or gun, who, in short, took for his ideal that state of 
 nature of which the sentimental philosopher speaks 
 so often. Now, if all men were like Thoreau, there 
 could be no society and, of course, no government. 
 But this man was a singular exception, as is proved 
 by the notoriety which is given to his character. 
 
 We may take another illustration from the 
 family. What constitutes a family } There is an 
 agreement between two persons which constitutes 
 marriage, but the real bond is in the love which pre- 
 cedes the marriage vow. The family implies chil- 
 dren ; but how do the children become members 
 of the family } Do infants have a convention and 
 agree to be the children of the parents } Is there any 
 formal consent needed on their part to complete 
 their obligation to obey their parents in the Lord } 
 No, they are born into the family relation. They 
 are always, from the beginning, under parental 
 government. God has so arranged it in the con- 
 stitution of things. If therefore any one can un- 
 derstand how the family exists, he can also under- 
 stand how the state exists, by virtue of the appoint- 
 ment of God, and involves, by its very existence, re- 
 ciprocal rights and obligations which are not de- 
 pendent upon the choice of individuals, but are the 
 condi«tion by which they live. 
 
 7 ♦ 
 
146 Sermons. 
 
 I shall illustrate and fortify what I have said, by 
 a fine passage from Edmund Burke, the most phil- 
 osophical and the most practical, and I may add, 
 the most Christian of statesmen. " Taking it for 
 granted," he says, " that I do not write to the dis- 
 ciples of the Parisian philosophy, I may assume 
 that the awful author of our being, is the author of 
 our place in theorder of existence ; and that having 
 disposed and marshalled us by a divine tactic, not 
 according to our will but according to His, He has 
 in and by that disposition, virtually subjected us to 
 act the part which belongs to the place assigned 
 us. We have obligations to mankind at ' large, 
 which are not in consequence of any voluntary 
 compact. They arise from the relation of man to 
 man and the relation of man to God, which rela- 
 tions are not matter of choice. * * * Dark 
 and inscrutable are the ways by which we come 
 into the world. The instincts which give rise to 
 this mysterious process of nature are not of our 
 making. But out of physical causes unknown toj 
 us, perhaps unknowable, arise moral duties which,, 
 as we are able perfectly to comprehend, we are 
 bound indispensably to perform. Parents may not: 
 be consenting to their m.oral relation ; but consent- 
 ing or not, they are h(<)Vind to a long train of bur- 
 densome duties towe^H^i those with v,5hom they have 
 never made a convojitipn ^f any sort, (^fedldren are. 
 
The Christian Doctrine of Loyalty, 147 
 
 not consenting to their relation, but their relation 
 without their actual consent, binds them to its 
 duties, or rather it implies their consent because 
 the presumed consent of every rational creature is 
 in unison with the predisposed order of things. 
 Men come in that manner into a community, with 
 the social state of their parents, endowed with all 
 the benefits, loaded with all the duties of their situ- 
 ation. If the social ties and ligaments spun out of 
 those physical relations which are the elements of 
 the commonwealth, in most cases begin and always 
 continue independently of our will, so, without any 
 stipulation on our part, are we bound by that rela- 
 tion called our country, which comprehends, as it 
 has been well said, 'all the charities of all ' !" 
 
 This passage shows, in a clear and convincing 
 manner, that the proposition with which we started 
 is true, that society and government are based on 
 the divine order of things, and interwoven into the 
 frame-work of existence. 
 
 In corroboration of this philosophy of govern- 
 ment, stand the declarations of the Scriptures, that 
 government is of divine origin. The particular 
 kind of government which God revealed to the 
 Jews, was a commonwealth. But in the course of 
 centuries the people demanded a king, like the rest 
 of the nations around them. The Almighty, 
 through His prophet, interposed valid objections 
 
148 Sermons. 
 
 against this form of government. But when the 
 people insisted, the Lord assisted in the choice, 
 and the obligation was as binding under the mon- 
 archy as under the commonwealth. Those whose 
 hearts God had touched were loyal. The good-for- 
 nothing despisers of God were the despisers of the 
 Lord's anointed. Thus the Jewish government, in 
 its various forms, was a type of all government 
 The particular form was given by man, even, as we 
 have seen, in opposition to the will of God ; but 
 government itself, independent of the manner of 
 its organization, found its author and its head, not 
 in any earthly magistrate, but in the Almighty 
 Ruler. 
 
 To the same purport is the clear and striking 
 declaration of the apostle Paul, when cautioning 
 the Roman Christians against rebellion. He says, 
 " Let every soul be subject unto the higher powers. 
 For there is no power but of God ; the powers that 
 be are ordained of God. Whosoever therefore re- 
 sisteth the power, resisteth the ordinance of God ; 
 and they that resist shall receive to themselves 
 damnation." There are various other passages al- 
 most as decisive. Thus, in the Old Testament, the 
 magistrates are called gods, as being invested with 
 God's authority. And Peter gives us the same 
 philosophy. " Submit yourselves to every ordi- 
 nance of man for the Lord's sake : whether it be to 
 
The CJiristiaii Doctrine of Loyalty. 149 
 
 the King, as supreme ; or unto governors, as unto 
 them that are sent by Him for the punishment of 
 evil-doers, and for the praise of them that do well. 
 For so is the will of God." 
 
 Retracing, then, the ground over which we have 
 advanced, we find the theory of the human origina- 
 tion of government to be futile, and the rational 
 and Christian theory to be, that the state, like the 
 family, is a divine institution. This position is 
 based alike on reason and on revelation. *'The 
 powers that be are ordained of God." Such is the 
 premise, and what must be the conclusion } Sim- 
 ply that of the apostle, that they that resist the or- 
 dinance of God shall receive to themselves dam- 
 nation. 
 
 The apparent objection to this conclusion, that 
 men in certain circumstances have the right of 
 revolution, only proves the rule. There is a right 
 of revolution founded in necessity. When the 
 great ends of government are overthrown ; when 
 men are not protected in their natural rights but 
 deprived of them, there is a moral right, and not 
 only a right, but a duty of resistance. On the 
 same ground of reasoning, a child deprived, by an 
 unnatural father, of the rights of a son, or commanded 
 by him to do a wicked action, may lawfully be dis- 
 obedient to the parental command ; but the excep- 
 tion does not invalidate the fifth commandment. 
 
150 Sermons. 
 
 Neither does the right of revolution, in extreme 
 cases, justify disobedience to the powers that be, 
 and thus nullify the command of God and the set- 
 tled order of the universe. Still it remains true, as 
 the word of God, that civil government is the ordi- 
 nance of God ; and that they who resist the ordi- 
 nance of God, receive to themselves damnation. 
 The powers that be are of divine origin and au- 
 thority, and therefore every man born under those 
 powers is under a divine obligation to be loyal. 
 
 The Christian doctrine of loyalty, as thus estab- 
 lished, cuts with a two-edged sword against the two 
 prevalent forms of disloyalty, treason on the one 
 hand and faction on the other. 
 
 I. — In the first place, we see the guilt of those 
 rebels who are resisting the authority of the Amer- 
 ican government. 
 
 The doctrine is that the American government, — 
 the " powers that be" in the United States, — is of 
 divine origin and authority ; and, therefore, that 
 they who are, with armed force, contending for its 
 overthrow, are fighting against God. 
 
 In this case there can be no extenuation of guilt 
 derived from a moral necessity, which is the char- 
 ter of a revolution. For, first, the American 
 government has never failed in the great ends of 
 government, which are, to secure the natural rights 
 of men. In the preceding history of mankind there 
 
The Christian Docifiiie of Loyalty. 1 5 1 
 
 has been no case so clear ds this. This govern- 
 ment more than any other form organized by man, 
 has been the protector of life, liberty, and the pur- 
 suit of happiness. This is not the exceptional case 
 of the child released from obligation to an un- 
 natural parent. The most sagacious of the South- 
 ern leaders repeatedly acknowledged this, when he 
 besought the people of his native state not to rush 
 into rebellion without a cause. 
 
 The single fact that the South existed under a 
 government in which their own representatives had 
 (equal powers with any others to change the laws, 
 in accordance with the principle of the rule of the 
 majority, takes their case out of the exceptions. 
 Whatever may be said of other extremists, 
 people living under a self-government can never 
 find a justification for rebellion. If the divine 
 command of obedience to the constituted authori- 
 ties has any significance, and is ever to be obeyed 
 at all, it must be in a government like that of the 
 American republic. If, at any time since the crea- 
 tion, the powers that be have been ordained of 
 God, it is the time since the formation of the 
 American constitution. If ever men resisted the 
 ordinance of God, these secessionists have resisted 
 it. If ever men will receive damnation for so doing, 
 it will fall upon the heads of the armed traitors of 
 the South. 
 
152 Sermons. 
 
 2. — We see the guilt of those who, for selfish of 
 partisan purposes, oppose and thwart the govern- 
 ment. This form of disloyalty, as distinguished 
 from treason, is designated as faction. Without 
 seeking to overthrow the government, faction seeks 
 to discredit it, embarrass it, and defeat its legitimate 
 operation. It more commonly takes the form of 
 opposition to the power which executes the govern- 
 ment. It is an unlawful enmity to the administra- 
 tion. It will be seen upon reflection, that the guilt 
 of faction is similar in kind to that of treason, and 
 dissimilar only in degree. So far as it aims to 
 defeat the intent of government, especially when 
 the government is engaged in a desperate contest 
 for self-existence, so far faction is criminal and 
 sinful. The administration is practically insepar- 
 able from the government. It is government in its 
 tangible, working organization. It is the body of 
 the governmental soul. The majesty and authority 
 of government is for the time lodged in the chief 
 magistrate, and we are bound to recognize and 
 reverence him accordingly. 
 
 Such accordingly is the teaching of the Scrip- 
 tures. After Paul has shown the guilt of resist- 
 ance to the government, he shows further the 
 guilt of resisting the administration. He declares 
 that the ruler is the minister of God for good. 
 " But if thou do that which is evil, be afraid ; for 
 
The Christian Doctrine of Loyalty. 153 
 
 he bcareth not the sword in vain ; for he is the 
 minister of God, a revenger to execute wrath upon 
 him that doeth evil. Wherefore ye must needs be 
 subject, not only for wrath " (that is, to avoid punish- 
 ment), " but also for conscience' sake. For, for 
 this cause pay ye tribute also" (that is taxes) : *' for 
 they are God's ministers, attending continually 
 upgn this very thing." 
 
 The same lesson is unfolded in the text. ThQ 
 disloyalty of the opponents of Saul took this very 
 form of faction. They did not contest his election 
 with armed force, but they despised him, sent him 
 no presents, and .sought in every factious way to 
 undermine his magisterial authority. These men, 
 we are told, were sons of Belial, wicked, good- 
 for-nothing fellows. 
 
 It follows then that the guilt of resisting the 
 administration is the same as that of resisting the 
 government, since government and administration 
 are practically identical. In either case, the resist- 
 ance is against the powers that are ordained of 
 God, and so there is a sliding scale of guilt from 
 the lowest form of faction, to the highest manifes- 
 tation of treason ; and the individual guilt is deter- 
 mined by its position in the scale. All faction is 
 not treason, but all treason includes faction as its 
 germ. 
 
 In human law, it is often difficult to adjust the 
 
154 ScniionL 
 
 guilt of faction and of treason. The one so blends 
 with the other, that they are not easily separated. 
 And the law justly demands some clear, overt act 
 of resistance as the ground of condemnation. 
 Hence, mere faction can do much mischief before 
 it assumes the dimensions of treason. 
 
 But morally, faction is a violation of the law of 
 God. It is resistance, though not armed resist- 
 ^tance, to the divine institution of government. It 
 is treason in the bud, and the guilt of treason rests 
 upon the soul in exact proportion to the extent of 
 the resistance. 
 
 To these sons of Belial, no less than to their 
 elder brothers, comes the warning of the Almighty. 
 They that resist the ordinance of God, shall re- 
 ceive to themselves damnation. 
 
 3. — We see the duty of the Christian church in 
 reference to the sin of treason. 
 
 It has been shown that the crime against the na- 
 tion is ultimately a transgression against God. 
 Treason is sin. Traitors then are sinners, for they 
 violate the most sacred commands of God, and 
 therefore they are to be treated like any other 
 heinous transgressors. They are to be opposed 
 with the spirit of the gospel, and their actions to 
 be judged with all the extenuations of charity. 
 But they are to be regarded as sinners. They are, 
 until they repent, unworthy of Christian fellowship 
 
The Christian Doctrine of Loyalty. 155 
 
 aiid if professing Christians, ought to be disci- 
 plined by the church of which they are members. 
 Their ^proclamations of fasting are blasphemy. 
 Their prayers ?ind thanksgivings" are an abomina- 
 tion unto the Lord. God is angry with them 
 every day. 
 
 Their guilt falls under the especial cognizance 
 of Christian ministers and so-called courts of 
 Christ. Every synod, assembly, convention and 
 conference, is bound by its fundamental law of 
 obedience to God, to purge itself of any complicity 
 with this known and heaven-defying sin. If they 
 do not oppose sin, they are themselves sinners, in 
 danger of the just judgment of God. Every 
 Christian minister is bound by the terms of his 
 ordination to preach agamst the sin of disloyalty, 
 as against any other sin, and on terms proportioned 
 to its enormity. He is to declare with the pro- 
 phet, that rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft. 
 He is to show that traitors are not only liable to 
 confiscation and execution in this world, but, unless 
 they repent, are doomed to everlasting punishment 
 in the next. These duties are inevitable if dis- 
 loyalty is sin. 
 
 4. — We see finally abundant reason for thanks- 
 giving to God, for the loyalty manifested by the 
 American people. 
 
 Going back to the definition of loyalty with 
 
156 Sermons. 
 
 which we started, viz., fidelity to the existing 
 government as administered by its lawful head, we 
 find that the American people have attested their 
 loyalty by the unsparing sacrifice of all that men 
 hold dear. 
 
 They have resisted those to the death who have 
 resisted the ordinance of God. A million of men, 
 heroes of the noblest mould, have set themselves 
 as a living wall against the embattled ranks of 
 treason. Their blood has reddened a hundred 
 battle-fields. Their agonies have been seen by 
 God upon the bloody stretcher and the rude forest 
 bed. Thousands of them are, on this Thanksgiving 
 day, this happy day of feasting and of joy, this 
 day of the reunion of sundered loves, starving to 
 death in the horrors of Southern bondage, without 
 a murmur or a tear. And what is all this for, but 
 to maintain the government, and defend the or- 
 dinance of God } Was there ever a sublimer ex- 
 hibition of loyalty .? We are told, that when the 
 brave and true-hearted Major-General Birney 
 passed away from earth in the delirium of fever, 
 his thoughts were fixed upon his country. Sud- 
 denly raising himself in bed, his eyes blazing with 
 the fire that consumed him, he cried with a trum- 
 pet voice, " Boys, keep your eyes on that flag ! " 
 and fell back dead. That farewell word is the 
 rallying cry of the nation, and to-day millions of 
 
The CJiristian Doctrine of Loyalty. 157 
 
 men are keeping their eyes on that flag, and de- 
 clare in life and death that it shall never be dis- 
 honored or stricken down by traitors. 
 
 The people have also in a remarkable manner 
 evinced their loyalty to the administration. A 
 man of the people, believing in the people, with 
 soul on fire to preserve the government, yet dread- 
 ing to go forth alone without the support of the 
 people, the President has waited to see whether 
 the people would stand b}^ him ; whether there was 
 a loyal band whose hearts God had touched, who 
 would attend him and support him and pay him 
 the tribute of reverence and fidelity as the minister 
 of God. The men of Belial have reviled him and 
 brought him no presents, and have said. How can 
 this man save us t But he has held his peace, and 
 waited for the loyal Christian people to declare 
 their choice. This choice was given on the elec- 
 tion day which has just passed away. It came as 
 the voice of many waters, as the sound of many 
 thousands of chariots upon their iron axles. It 
 came from the West and from the East, from the 
 free North and from the emancipated South. It 
 came with the momentum of such a majority as is 
 unknown within the memory of man ; and the in- 
 terpretation of that voice to the President was, 
 " Stand by the Union and we will stand by you." 
 Whatever may be true of others, every man that 
 
1 5 S Sermons-. 
 
 voted for the President, voted for hini as the de- 
 fender of the government, as the Commander-in- 
 chief of the armies that are to vanquish all treason 
 and rebellion. This is not the success of party. 
 It is the victory of loyalty, the preservation of the 
 government. 
 
 With such heroic sacrifice in the field, made 
 available by the genius of Grant and the stern 
 energy of Sherman, supported by the majestic 
 strength and calm which has just been exhibited in 
 the political contest at home, we may reasonably 
 conclude that the nation is to come forth unharmed 
 from the shock of battle, and that we may now 
 devoutly offer thanksgiving to God for this great 
 assurance that we shall not die but live, and 
 declare the works of the Lord. 
 
 Geologists tell us that, far back in the ages of the 
 past Eternity, the earth was a molten abyss, 
 devoid of life, enveloped with a firmament of thick 
 and scalding steam, beneath which the ocean 
 waters boiled like a pot. 
 
 Vast masses of liquified strata were thrown up- 
 ward by the action of the central fires, and 
 islands and continents rose and fell like leviathans 
 sporting in the tempestuous deep. 
 
 Who could have seen, in this fierce encounter of 
 wind and rock and wave, the promise of the para- 
 dise } 
 
The Christian Doctrine of Loyalty. 159 
 
 Yet this convulsion and upheaval was Eden's 
 foundation and preparation. The elemental war 
 went on. Huge tracts became habitable. Mon- 
 sters and mastodons shook the land and tossed the 
 sea, or blotted out the sun with crocodilian wings. 
 And at last, when convulsions and cataclysms 
 were ended and the world was done, then the cattle 
 dreamed upon the greensward, the bee hummed 
 amid the flowers, the bird of paradise gleamed and 
 glistened amid the embowering palm trees, and 
 man himself, the noblest born of earth, walked 
 hand in hand with angels, in that golden Sabbath 
 when God looked down upon His finished work, 
 and pronounced it good. 
 
 So shall it be with the nation redeemed by loy- 
 alty from treason. We h^ve had conflict and com- 
 motion. State has dashed against State, and these 
 against the nation. The dragons of slavery and 
 disloyalty have stalked across the trembling land. 
 The powers that be have been seething in a mael- 
 strom of sanguinary war, and the moral heavens 
 have been enveloped in darkness. But all this is 
 but the Divine i^reparation for the confirmation of 
 government, the Eden of liberty, the Sabbath of 
 peace. 
 
 Therefore while to-day we praise God for safety, 
 for plenty, for wealth and happiness, for the mercies 
 of the basket and the store, and for all the ordinary 
 
1 60 Sermons. 
 
 blessings of existence, we praise Him, most of all^ 
 that He has touched the hearts of the American 
 people, and has inspired them with that loyalty 
 which includes within it, victory, liberty, peace and 
 every benefit attainable by man ; and is destined 
 to lead humanity to that fruition of salvation 
 which is garnered up in the sacrifice and kingdom 
 of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ ; to whom 
 with the Father and Holy Spirit, be all glory and 
 dominion, blessing and thanksgiving, now and for- 
 ever, world without end. Amen. 
 
THE PILGRIM TEMPLE- 
 BUILDERS. 
 
THE PILGRIM TEMPLE-BUILDERS. 
 
 " Walk about Zion, and go round about her ; tell the towers 
 thereof ; mark ye well her bulwarks ; consider her palaces, that ye 
 may tell it to the generation following." 
 
 Psalm xlviii. 12, 13. 
 
 That genial and true-hearted messenger of the 
 English Churches to the Boston Council, the Rev. 
 Dr. Raleigh, presented, upon his return to the 
 mother-land, this fair picture of New England, 
 from the summit of Mt. Holyoke : '' I stood one 
 day on a hill-top near Northampton, commanding 
 a vast and various view, one of the finest of the 
 kind in the whole world. We had crept up slowly 
 — a gentleman of Northampton and myself — for it 
 was a hot Summer day, through the leafy woods, 
 now admiring the beauty of the foliage and now 
 talking of the past and the present of England and 
 America, when all at once we emerged from the 
 umbrage and stood upon the hill-top. There came 
 to my lips in a moment some lines of Thompson's 
 Seasons, which had been in my memory since boy- 
 hood, and which I had always thought rather 
 
1 66 Sermons. 
 
 mythical, considered as the description of an actual 
 scene : 
 
 " * Heavens ! what a goodly prospect spreads around, 
 Of hills and dales and woods and lawns and spires, 
 And glittering towns and gilded streams, till all 
 The stretching landscape into smoke decays.' 
 
 "Thirty Church-spires are visible from that hill- 
 top to a practised eye, every one of them the spire 
 of a parish Church, and every one of them Inde- 
 pendent." 
 
 Then, coming down from the mountain, this 
 clear-eyed observer — this subject of another realm 
 — wrote this estimate of New England character : 
 *' I only know this, that my impression is that I 
 have never seen anywhere in the world — not even 
 in this dear Old England — a state of society on 
 the whole so good as I saw in the heart of New 
 England. None are poor to dependence or starva- 
 tion ; none are ignorant. Their land enriches 
 them with plenty ; their common schools inform 
 them and enlighten them ; their free religious 
 teaching is the power of God unto salvation to 
 very many of them, and it is a moral safeguard to 
 them all." 
 
 Taking a still wider survey of our free institu- 
 tions, let us ask ourselves the question : What is 
 the source of this prosperity and freedom ; zvhat is it 
 that made New England tvhat she is to-day ? 
 
 Just previous to the great eruption of the civil 
 
The Pilgrim Temple-Builders. 167 
 
 war it was my fortune to climb another hill of 
 vision, in one of the central counties of Virginia. 
 The panorama of nature was even grander than 
 that which enfolds the lovely valley of the Connec- 
 ticut. Far along from North to South, like a huge 
 wall builded by the giants and flanked with dreamy 
 towers and buttresses of purple, ran the line of the 
 Blue Ridge. On the distant slopes and crags the 
 solemn old forests slumbered and nodded to the 
 wind of May. Far to the eastward was the white 
 winding ribbon of the James River, and nearer, 
 the broad but turbid current of the Rapidan. A 
 single town was visible upon the horizon ; the re- 
 mainder of the scene was composed of broad plan- 
 tations. On these the young crops of wheat and 
 tobacco displayed their verdant leafage. The 
 peach trees wore their rosy bloom ; the air was 
 musical with the songs of free and happy birds, 
 and fragrant with the wealth of unnumbered tribes 
 of forest flowers. Thus did nature lavish her 
 fairest charms around that well-worn hill of Monti- 
 cello, the resting place of Jefferson. 
 
 But how diflerent were the moral aspects of the 
 scene from that bright New England prospect ! 
 The dearth of villages revealed the lack of enter- 
 prise. The absence of school-houses betrayed the 
 deeper lack of education. Those plantations, so 
 rich and ample, spoke of thousands of wretched 
 
1 68 Sermons. 
 
 human beings driven to ceaseless toil, like oxen 
 with the lash. In those aristocratic mansions, ris- 
 ing up proudly out of the squalid huts of worse 
 than paupers, the pampered owners were even then, 
 on that sweet May morning of i860, plotting the 
 blackest crime, save one, which ever stained the 
 page of history, — the crime of assassinating the 
 accumulated freedom of all the ages, that human 
 bondage might be eternal. What made that moral 
 picture so different from the bright prospect of New 
 England? 
 
 The answer to these inquiries is to be found far 
 back, in the very origin of the Old Colony and the 
 Old Dominion. When the Pilgrims touched the 
 shores of Massachusetts, the whole country. North 
 and South, was named Virginia.* But the Vir- 
 ginians of Plymouth Rock were men who had lit- 
 tle in common with the Virginians of the James 
 River. Two settlements of kindred stock were 
 established on the Atlantic coast, but from the 
 very beginning it was evident that they were as 
 unlike in character as the twins of the patriarch 
 Isaac. Two nations were in the womb, and two 
 manners of people were separated from the matrix 
 of the mother-land. 
 
 * South Virginia extended from Cape Fear to the Potomac, and 
 North Virginia from the mouth of the Hudson to Newfoundland ; 
 the intermediate territory was common ground. See Bancroft, i., 
 120 ; and, more clearly, Amer. Cyclop., art. "United States." 
 
The Pilgrim Temple-Btiilders. 169 
 
 The contrast in the character of the two peoples 
 is as great as that of the seasons in which they dis- 
 embarked. The Virginians entered the broad 
 waters of the Chesapeake unruffled by a storm, and 
 floated up the silver stream when spring was wear- 
 ing all her wreaths to welcome them. The Pil- 
 grims landed as shipwrecked mariners, in the depth 
 of winter, on the ice-bound coast of Plymouth, 
 glM to find a rock to give them footing in the sleet 
 of the December blast. The Virginians were 
 vagabond gentlemen, " unprincipled young sparks," 
 whom their parents were glad to ship off in order 
 to save them from a worse fate at home, " dis- 
 charged servants, fraudulent bankrupts, rakes and 
 debauchees."* The Pilgrims were men of good 
 education and unblemished reputation, and some of 
 them belonged to the intellectual nobility of Eu- 
 rope. The Virginians were adventurers, averse to 
 labor, going to a wilderness in which as yet not a 
 single house was standing, with forty-eight gentle- 
 men to four carpenters. The Pilgrims were a band 
 inured to difficulties, industrious and frugal, eager 
 to wield the axe amid the peltings of the storm. 
 The Virginians came singly, as the Californian 
 miner goes to seek his fortnne, bound to the 
 country by no domestic ties. The Pilgrims landed 
 
 * This is the concurrent testimony of all the historians of the 
 colony. See Bancroft, i., 138, 
 8 
 
i^o Sermons. 
 
 with their families,-— the germs of patriotism and 
 of virtue. 
 
 " There was woman's earnest eye, 
 Lit by her deep love's truth." 
 
 The Virginians came with all their laws and in- 
 stitutions shut up in a box, by order of King 
 James, with strict orders not to open it till they 
 landed, and lo ! when it was opened not a single 
 element of popular liberty was to be found in it. 
 The Pilgrims fashioned their own institutions, and 
 had provided for their civil and religious rights 
 before they left the cabin of the Mayflower, not in 
 the name of the king, but in the name of God. 
 The Virginians came across the ocean to chase the 
 mirage of wealth, — the gorgeous dream of the 
 Spaniard. With an ignorance unparalleled even 
 in that age of imperfect discovery, they imagined 
 the existence of a channel connecting the waters; 
 of the Chesapeake with the South Sea and its: 
 boundless realms of wealth. They actually sent 
 up the Chickahominy an expedition bound for the 
 Pacific Ocean, in quest of gold. And when at last 
 they discovered some shining mineral which 
 seemed to answer their expectations, and sent a 
 load of the worthless earth to England, as Smith 
 said, " there was now no talk, no hope, no work but 
 dig gold, wash gold,, refine gold, load g©ld." 
 
 But, on the oth©[- hand, the Pilgjiiii!!;^ CSk^^- ^ith 
 
The Pilgiim Temple-Builders, 171 
 
 the loftiest purpose recorded in the annals of the 
 race. Inspired with an undying love for liberty, 
 mindful of the welfare of posterity, and with souls 
 conscious of a sublime destiny under the favor of 
 the great Leader whom they served, they sailed to 
 these shores impelled by " a hope and inward zeal 
 of advancing the gospel of the kingdom of Christ 
 in the remote parts of the New World, yea, though 
 they should be but as stepping-stones unto others 
 for performing so great a work." This glorious 
 aspiration brought them across the stormy ocean, 
 and when they landed on the snow-clad rocks, their 
 first act was to kneel down and take possession of 
 the continent in the name and for the sake of 
 Christ. 
 
 The founder of New Haven, far-seeing as all 
 these Puritans were, thus manifests the piety and 
 the wisdom of the first settlers of New England : 
 " They that are skillful in architecture observe that 
 the breaking or yielding of a stone in the ground- 
 work of a building, but the breadth of the back of 
 a knife, will make a cleft of more than half a foot 
 in the fabric aloft, so important are fundamental 
 errors. The Lord awaken us to look to it in time, 
 and send us his light and truth to lead us into the 
 safest ways in these beginningsr ^ 
 
 Little did Davenport, when he uttered his fer- 
 
 * Davenport. Discourse upon Civil Goverment. 
 
J 72 Sermons. 
 
 vent prayer, imagine that august temple of Free- 
 dom which should be erected in the coming ages, 
 and little did he perceive that in the fundamental 
 principles of the two chief English colonies, North 
 and South, there was even then a fissure which 
 should crack the temple walls and cleave the 
 Union almost asunder, till a million patriots should 
 rush in to repair the breach. 
 
 This figure of a goodly temple built to God was 
 a favorite one among our Puritan forefathers, and 
 we are but following their own method when we 
 speak of their free institutions as tov/ers and bul- 
 warks. On this high day of commemoration ser- 
 vice we are summoned by their example, no less 
 than by the exhortation of the Psalmist, to go 
 round about the Zion which they builded, to tell 
 the towers thereof, to mark >vell her bulwarks, to 
 consider h^r palaces, that we may tell it to the 
 generation following. We have spoken in general 
 of the character of the Pilgrims. We wish now to 
 note more specifically the institutions which they 
 founded, and which are the towers of all the great- 
 ness, moral and material, for which New England 
 is reverenced above all the peoples of the earth. 
 They are three — the Free Church, the Free School, 
 and the Free Commonwealth. 
 
 I. The Pilgrims founded a Free Church as the 
 tpwer of religion, 
 
The Pilgrmi Temple-Builders. \J% 
 
 The Church of England, from its very founda^ 
 tion under Henry VIIL, contained within it the 
 germs of two parties, one desiring to keep as 
 closely as possible to the Romish polity and cere- 
 monial as was consistent with a separate establish- 
 ment ; the other inclined to make the reformation 
 more thorough by limiting the prelatical and royal 
 supremacy, and by discarding, as *' rags of supersti- 
 tion" and hindrances to a pure and spiritual wor- 
 ship, many of the rites and ceremonies still retained 
 in the Anglican Church. * 
 
 When " Bloody Mary" ascended the throne, 
 many of the churchmen bowed before the storm of 
 Papal persecution, and recanted or compromised 
 their Protestant principles. But the Puritans stood 
 firm. That illustrious ancestor of the Pilgrims, 
 whose death at Smithfield, with his " sweet babes" 
 around him, was the first picture which for many 
 generations met the eyes of the New England 
 schoolboy — Rogers was the protomartyr. While 
 the flames were raging, many of those who were 
 truly imbued with the spirit .of the gospel fled to 
 the continent, and found refuge in the Protestant 
 cities of Frankfort and Geneva. Here again were 
 soon found the same differences of opinion which 
 
 * "The compromise arranged by Craumer had from the first 
 been considered by a large body of Protestants as a scheme for 
 serving two masters,— as an attempt to unite the worship of the 
 Lord with the worship of Baal." — Macanlay, i., 45, et seq. 
 
i 74 Sermons. 
 
 had existed in England, A controversy arose 
 among the exiles at Frankfort, between those who 
 could conscientiously conform to the ritual of the 
 English establishment and those who preferred the 
 primitive simplicity of the Reformed Churches 
 around them. And here at Frankfort, in the year 
 1554, the more scrupulous and inflexible of the 
 reformers were first called Puritans by their adver- 
 saries. * 
 
 The Puritans remained as yet within the bosom 
 of the English Church, and shrank from any 
 thought of separation. But after the accession of 
 Elizabeth (1558), who was in belief more a Papist 
 than a Protestant, and in temper a true daughter of 
 Henry VIII., the breach between the Puritans and 
 the Establishment was effected by the Queen her- 
 self, t When in the lower House of Convocation 
 the questions were discussed of the observance of 
 Saint's days, .of the use of the cope and surplice, of 
 
 * Bacon's Hist. Discourses, p. 7 ; Palfrey, Hist. New England, 
 i., 118; Ncal, Hist. Puritans, i., 68. Within ten years the name 
 was in common use in England. Hopkins adopts the later date. 
 Hist. Puritans, i., 232. 
 
 t Except Archbishop Parker . .. and Cox, Bishop of Ely . .. 
 all the most eminent churchmen, such as Sewell, Grindal, Sandys, 
 Newell, were in favor of leaving off the surplice and what were 
 called the Popish ceremonies. Whether their objections are to be 
 deemed narrow and frivolous, or otherwise, it is inconsistent with 
 veracity to dissemble tkat the Queen alone was the cause of retain- 
 ing those observances to which the great separation from the Angli- 
 can establishment is ascribed, — I/allam, Const. Hist. Eng.^ i., 188. 
 
The Pilgrim Temple-Bnilders. 175 
 
 kneeling at the communion, of the sign of the 
 cross in baptism, and matters of kindred moment, 
 it appeared that that body was almost equally di- 
 vided, the reformers losing the day by only a single 
 vote out of a hundred and seventeen.* But the 
 Queen looked upon the rights of conscience just as 
 she regarded the enterprises of commercial specu- 
 lation. Of both she claimed the monopoly, and all 
 must be ordered in accordance with her imperious 
 will. Therefore it was she issued her imperial 
 edict that no worship should be tolerated outside of 
 the Established Church, and that all who did wor- 
 ship should observe every jot and tittle of the royal 
 
 * Neal, i., 89. The Puritans at this time composed the majority 
 of the English people. " I conceive," says one of the most accu- 
 rate and impartial of historians, " the Church of England parly — 
 that is, the parly averse to any species of ecclesiastical change — to 
 have been the least numerous of the three (Catholic, Church of Eng- 
 land, Puritan,) during this reign ; still excepting, as I have said, tl e 
 neutrals who commonly make a numerical majority and are counlcd 
 along with the dominant religion. The Puritans, or at least those 
 who rather favored them, had a majority among the Frotestavt gen- 
 try during the Queen's days. It is agreed on all hands, and is quite 
 manifest, that they predominated in the House of Commons. But 
 that House was composed, as it has ever been, of the principal 
 landed proprietors, and as much represented the general wish of 
 the community, when it demanded a farther reform in religious 
 matters, as on any other subjects. One would imagine, by the 
 manner in which some express themselves, t/iat the disrontented 
 luere a small faction, who, by some unaccountable means, in despite 
 of the government and the W2i\\o\\, formed a majority of all Parlia- 
 ments under Elizabeth and her two successors.'" — Uallum, Const, 
 Hist., i., 257. 
 
I "j^ Sermons. 
 
 ceremonial under penalty of ruinous fines, im- 
 prisonment, and death.* 
 
 Then arose in the minds of the Puritans the 
 Pauline spirit of independence, and they said : In 
 these matters of conscience we give to this woman 
 "no place by subjection, — no, not for an hour." 
 They not only opposed the compulsory imposition 
 of vain and superstitious observances, and the doc- 
 trine of passive obedience to royal caprice in mat- 
 ters of religion, but they held that they themselves 
 were guilty in the sight of God by remaining in 
 communion with a church which avowed such per- 
 nicious doctrines and practices. Since the English 
 Church could not be reformed it must be abandoned. 
 They heard the great voice of the Apocalypse 
 sounding athwart the heavens, " Come out of her, 
 my people, that ye be not partakers of her sins, and 
 that ye receive not of her plagues." 
 
 These were the Puritans of the Puritans, " the 
 dissidents of dissent," who demanded nothing less 
 than the entire freedom of conscience, and a com- 
 plete separation from all observances opposed to 
 the purity and simplicity of the gospel of Christ. 
 
 *Two ministers of the gospel were hanged for circulaling 
 Brown's tract on the Liberty of the Pulpit. " Both the prisoners 
 died by their principles ; for though Dr. Still, the archbishop's 
 chaplain, and others travelled (travailed) and conferred with them, 
 yet at the very hour of their death they remained immovable ; 
 they xvere both sound in the doctrinal articles of the Chnrch of Eng- 
 land, and of 7inl>lanished lives." — Neal, i., 154. 
 
TJie Pilgrim Tcvtple-Bttilders. iff 
 
 With these convictions a handful of *' godly Chris- 
 tians" in the north of England, in the village of 
 Bcrooby, under the lead of John kobinson and Wil* 
 iiam Brewster, in the year 1606,* organized them- 
 selves into an independent church after t^ie pattern of 
 the Scriptures. Being led by the light of God's word 
 to see that the " beggarly ceremonies" were monu- 
 ments of idolatry, and that " the lordly power of the 
 prelates ought not to be submitted to," they deter- 
 mined, to use their own words, " to shake of this 
 yoake of anti-Christian bondage, and as ye Lord's 
 free people joyn themselves by a covenant of ye 
 Lord, into a church estate, in ye felowship of ye 
 gospell, to walke in all his wayes, made known or 
 to be made known to them according to their best 
 endeavours, zuhatsocver it should c-ost iJicmr f 
 
 But this Church could not live in England. By 
 the dignitaries who then presided over the Estab- 
 lishment it was regarded with less favor than a den 
 of dicers or coiners, and it speedily brought down 
 upon its head the full measure of brutal vengeance 
 from the authorities. The scattered flock fled to 
 the seaside, where a vessel was in waiting to carry 
 them to Holland. But while the ship was loading, 
 when a portion of the emigrants were already on 
 
 * For the verification of this date, see Palfrey, i., 134, Note. 
 
 t Bradford's Plymouth Plantation, quoted by Dexter, Congrega- 
 tionalism, p. 58. 
 
178 Sej'indni. 
 
 board, a band of horsemen made their appearance 
 on the beach, and dragged off to the magistrates a 
 large number of helpless women and children. '* Piti- 
 fulit was/' says an eye witness,* "to see the heavy 
 case of these poor women in distress. What weeping 
 and crying on every side ! " With great difficulty 
 and through much misery the weeping band at 
 last rejoined their husbands and fathers, and so at 
 last the Pilgrim Church succeeded in finding a 
 refuge in the city of Amsterdam. But, like the 
 wandering dove, they found no place to rest. From 
 Amsterdam they removed to Leyden, and there 
 for ten years "their continual labors with other 
 crosses and sorrows left them in danger to scatter 
 or sink." 
 
 They felt that in a foreign country there was 
 danger of forgetting the language and the name of 
 their beloved fatherland. They found themselves 
 unable to give their children an education such as 
 they had themselves received, and they were 
 grieved at the irreligion of the Dutch, especially 
 in the profanation of the Sabbath. f It might be 
 that in the uninhabited regions of the New World 
 
 * Bradford. See Palfrey, i., 138. 
 
 t Three main reasons are given by Winslow (Briefe Narration) 
 for their leaving Holland, i. "They were like to lose their lan- 
 guage and their name of English." 2. "How little good they did 
 or were like to do to the Dutch in reforming the Sabbath." 3. 
 " How unable there to give such education to their children as they 
 had themselves received." 
 
The Pilgrim Temple-Biiilders. 179 
 
 they could find a promised land for themselves and 
 their posterity. Accordingly, they broke up their 
 associations with the people, who loved them and 
 esteemed them.* The pastor Robinson who re- 
 mained behind with a portion of the flock gave 
 them a solemn farewell charge. f They feasted at 
 
 * "The magistrates testified, * These English have lived amongst 
 us now these twelve years, and yet we never had any suit or accusa- 
 tion come against any of them.' " — Bradford, 20. " The merchants 
 of Amsterdam presented a memorial to the Prince of Orange to 
 encourage Robinson's company to emigrate to the Dutch settle- 
 ments in America." — Brodhead, Hist. N'cw York, i,, 125. Many of 
 the Dutch joined the Pilgrim Church. See IVinsloiu, 95, 
 
 t The farewell counsel of Robinson breathes such a noble, and 
 for that age wonderful, spirit of mingled liberty and charity, that I 
 cannot refrain from quoting Winslow's Narration at length : 
 
 " We are now ere long to part asunder, and the Lord knoweth 
 whether ever he should live to see our faces again. But whether 
 the Lord had appointed it or not, he charged us before God and his 
 blessed angels to follow him no farther than he followed Christ, and 
 if God should reveal anything to us by any other instrument of his, 
 to be as ready to receive it as ever we were to receive any truth by 
 his ministry ; for he was very confident the Lord had more truth 
 and light yet to break forth out of his Holy Word. He tqok occa- 
 sion also miserably to bewail the state and condition of the Reform- 
 ed Churches who were come to a period in religion, and would no 
 farther go than the instruments of their Reformation. As, for ex- 
 ample, the Lutherans ; they could not be drawn to go beyond what 
 Luther saw, for whatever part of God's will He had farther im- 
 parted and revealed unto Calvin, they will rather die than embrace 
 it. And so also saith he, You see the Calvinists ; they stick where 
 he left them — a misery much to be lamented — for though they were 
 precious shining lights in their times, yet God hath not revealed his 
 whole will unto them, and were they now living, saith he, they 
 would be as ready and willing to embrace farther light than that 
 they had received. Here also he put us in mind of our Church 
 covenant, at least that part of it whereby we promise and covenant 
 with God and one another, to receive whatsoever light or truth 
 
I So Sermon^. 
 
 the pastor's house, then, having been refreshed 
 after their tears by the singing of psalms, they 
 embarked upon the perilous voyage, and in the ful- 
 ness of the time the Mayflower anchored in the 
 bay of Massachusetts, and the Pilgrims landed upon 
 Plymouth Rock. 
 
 What, now, was the nature of this Pilgrim 
 Church, destined to exert so mighty an influence 
 in all time to come ? Its cardinal principle of 
 polity was that the particular Church is an equal 
 brotherhood of believers, amenable to no head but 
 Christ. Our fathers held that every such Church 
 is independent of any outward jurisdiction or con- 
 trol, whether of popes, kings, bishops, or of any 
 ecclesiastical authority ; that it is competent to 
 constitute and maintain its own organization, to 
 elect its own pastor and other officers, to execute 
 its own disciphne, to determine its own mode of 
 worship, to direct its own internal affairs, and that, 
 for the proper discharge of these Christian func- 
 tions, it is responsible to Christ alone.* 
 
 shall be made known to us from his written word ; but withal ex- 
 horted us to take heed what we received for truth, and well to ex- 
 amine and compare it, and weigh it with other Scriptures of truth 
 before we received it. For, saith he, it is not possible the Christian 
 world should come so lately out of such antichristian darkness, and 
 that full perfection of knowledge should break forth at once." 
 
 * See a full array of authorities in that invaluable book, Dexter's 
 Congregationalism, p. 43, note. See, also, the resume of Brad- 
 shaw's Puritanism, in Neal., i,, 248. 
 
TJie Pilgrim Temple-BjiilderS. iSl 
 
 When the Pilgrims sent their messengers from 
 Ley den to London, in the vain hope of obtaining 
 a charter for their colony, the councilors asked, 
 " Who shall be your minister ?" To the great 
 astonishment of the council, the envoys answered, 
 " The power of making them is in the Church." 
 This is the language of Robinson : " The Lord 
 Jesus is the king of His Church alone, upon whose 
 shoulders the government is, and unto whom all 
 power is given in heaven and earth." And Higgin- 
 son of Salem, a town partly colonized from Ply- 
 mouth, declares, " This was our cause in coming 
 here, that Christ alone might be acknowledged by us 
 as the only Head, Lord, and Lawgiver." 
 
 Were this the place for such an argument, it 
 might be clearly shown that this free constitution 
 of the Church is in strict conformity with the teach- 
 ing of the Scriptures, which our fathers took for 
 their infallible guide. But omitting these consider- 
 ations, we proceed to ask, What were the fruits of 
 this Pilgrim Church, and what its influence upon 
 the spiritual destiny of New England 1 More es- 
 pecially. How did it fulfill the proper functions of a 
 Church of Christ in defending the truth, in pro- 
 moting piety, and in bringing men to the reception 
 of the Gospel as it is in Jesus } 
 
 Two centuries and a half have rolled away, and 
 the muse of history stands ready with her answer. 
 
1 ^2 Sermom. 
 
 Nowhere in all the world — not even among the 
 children of the covenanters, in the green vales of 
 Scotland — are the inhabitants characterized by such 
 sobriety, frugality, industry, and purity. Nowhere 
 is God's word so read and honored. Nowhere, 
 when that Sabbath comes on which the Pilgrims 
 rested, does the church-bell, with its sweet evangel, 
 call forth so many worshippers to the temples of the 
 Lord. Nowhere since the Pentecost have been ex- 
 perienced with greater power those gracious visi- 
 tations of the Spirit, whose memorable type is the 
 " Great Awakening " described by the pen of Ed- 
 wards. Nowhere is so large a proportion of the 
 entire population gathered into the Churches of 
 Christ. 
 
 And if we proceed to ask, What have these 
 Churches done beyond themselves for the welfare 
 of mankind, we are still ready with the answer. 
 New England has been foremost in the inauguration 
 of those great benevolent and religious institutions 
 which now girdle the world with their benignant 
 charities. Do you honor that noble Society which 
 aims to send the Bible, without note or comment, 
 to every family in the land, and which, after trans- 
 lating the word of God into unnumbered languages, 
 is now sending it from the presses of America to 
 the hundred millions who speak the Arabic } Re- 
 member that before the existence of the metro- 
 
The Pilgrim Temple-Btdlders. 183 
 
 * 
 
 politan institution, a Bible Society had been already 
 formed in Massachusetts and another in Connecticut.* 
 
 Do you look with favor upon that Home Mis- 
 sionary. Society which has planted the gospel in 
 almost every county of the boundless West ? That, 
 too, was organized by the New England Churches ; 
 and the General Court of Massachusetts, two cen- 
 turies earlier, was the first Missionary Society in 
 the annals of Protestant Christendom.! 
 
 Are you interested in the work of Sabbath 
 Schools ? In 178 1, the same year in which Robert 
 Raikes began his apostolic work in England, the 
 children were gathered for religious instruction on 
 Sunday noons, under the branching elms in the 
 village of Washington, Connecticut.^ But a hun- 
 
 * Amer. Cyclop, art., "Bible Societies." The American Bible 
 Society was formed in 1816, through the instrumentality of Hon. 
 Elias Boudinot of New Jersey. The Massachusetts Society was 
 formed in 1809. Under the auspices of Eliot, the famous Indian 
 Bible, the first Bible printed in America, was issued at Cambridge 
 in 1663, having been three years in press. 
 
 t The Home Missionary Society formed in 1826 was in reality 
 only a consolidation of the New England Auxiliaries. ** In thirty 
 years from the arrival of the Pilgrims, five Churches had expanded 
 into more than forty, and were actually supporting fifty-five minis- 
 ters." " Home Missions were pushed with such vigor, that cases 
 are related of the erection of meeting-houses 'where the entire 
 population of the place could sit together on the sills at the rais- 
 ing.' " — Rev. H. B. Hooker^ in Report Hoine Missionary Society^ 1864. 
 
 "The General Court of Massachusetts was thus (1646) the first 
 Missionary Societv in the History of Protestant Christendom." — 
 Palfrey^ ii., 189. 
 
 X Rev. Dr. Hawes, in Contrib. to Eccles. Hist, of Conn., p. 191. 
 
i 84 SermonL 
 
 dred years befofe Raikes was born, the Sabbath 
 School was in successful operation in the Pilgrim 
 Church at Plymouth.* 
 
 Do you regard the Temperance Reformation as 
 intimately connected with the interests of religion ? 
 Massachusetts and Connecticut are rivals for the 
 honor of its birth. f 
 
 Have you ever thought with wonder on that 
 American Board of Commissioners for P'oreign 
 Missions, which has dotted every continent with 
 Christian institutions, which has elevated savage 
 tribes from the lowest depths of pagan barbarism 
 to the dignity of Christian nations, and which, 
 making the coral islands of the Pacific its stepping- 
 stones, has gone forth to the spiritual conquest of 
 the habitable globe ? It was originated in the 
 study of a descendant of the Pilgrims, not far from 
 the rock on which they landed as a mission Church.J 
 
 * As early as 1680 the Plymouth Church passed a vote in these 
 words : '' That the deacons be requested to assist the minister in 
 teaching the children during the intermission on the Sabbath " 
 Rev. T. Robbins, D. D., in his address at Williams College, says 
 that he has seen an authentic account of a Sunday School at Ply- 
 mouth, in 1669. — Cong. Qitar., Jan., 1865, p. 21. 
 
 t "Both Massachusetts and Connecticut may well conter.d for pre- 
 cedence in the Temperance movement." — Dr. J. Marsh, 
 
 Dr. Porter's famous sermon on "The Fatal Effects of Ardent 
 Spirits," which gave the first impulse to the Tcmpcrarce move- 
 ment in Connecticut, was preached in the winter of 1806. The 
 Massachusetts Society for the Suppression of Intemperance was 
 organized in 1813. 
 
 I At Andover, 1S09. The Board received its organization from 
 
The Pilgrim Tentple-Btiildets. 185 
 
 Thus, then, that ancestral Church in the wilder- 
 ness, containing within it such wondrous germs of 
 power, is invested for us with a mysterious and 
 transcendent glory. It needs no warrant from a per- 
 secuting bishop to constitute it more a Church of 
 Christ than what it is. Those heroic saints cele- 
 brating their first Sabbath in the New England 
 snows, are truer successors of the apostles than any 
 created by the imposition of an earthly hand. 
 Their strain of worship, ringing amid the pines, 
 shaJl never cease to vibrate through the heavens 
 till it melt away in the blast of the resurrection. 
 And that rude sanctuary, hewn of logs, on whose 
 top the three cannon were planted at the Indians, 
 is a grander and more sacred temple than any 
 minster or cathedral with its broad aisles and sump- 
 tuous altars, its lofty arches resounding with the 
 organ's diapason, and its storied windows, where 
 the forms of saints and angels keep solemn ward 
 over the dust of kings who sleep below. 
 
 II. No sooner had the Pilgrims constituted their 
 Church and built its house of worship, than they 
 founded the Free School, to be the tower of 
 education. 
 
 A governor of Virginia is recorded to hav^e uttered 
 his thanksgiving to God that in that commonwealth 
 
 the General Association of the Congregational Churches of Mas- 
 sachusetts, at Bradford, 29th June, 1810. 
 
1 86 Sermons. 
 
 there were no printing presses nor free schools.* 
 John Eliot, the apostle to the Indians, in a prayer 
 before the General Court of Massachusetts, in 1645, 
 thus reversed the desire of Berkeley : " Lord ! for 
 schools everywhere among us ! That our schools 
 may flourish. That every member of this assem- 
 bly may go home and procure a good school to be 
 encouraged in the town where he lives. That be- 
 fore we die we may be so happy as to see a 
 good school in every plantation in the country."! 
 The spirit of the prayer of Eliot was early framed 
 into appropriate legislation. " In nothing," says 
 De Tocqueville, " is the original character of 
 American civilization shown more clearly than in 
 the mandates relating to education.":]: One of the 
 earliest of these laws contained the following 
 provision: "To the end that all learning may 
 not be buried in the graves of our forefathers, 
 ordered that every township, after the Lord hath 
 in/creased them to fifty householders, shall ap- 
 point one to teach all the children to read and 
 
 * Sir Wm. Berkeley, in 1670, in reply to the inquiries addressed 
 to him by the Lords of Plantations, says, " I thank God there are 
 no frej schools nor printing, and I hope we shall not have them 
 these hundred years, for learning has brought disobedience, and 
 heresy, and sects into the world, and printing has divulged them, 
 and libels against the best government. God keep us from both." 
 — Henning's Laws of Virginia^ Appendix. 
 
 t Morris. Christian Life, &c., of the United States, p. 73. 
 
 X Democracy in America, i., 51. 
 
The Pilgrim Temple- Btcilders, 187 
 
 Write, and where any town shall increase to the 
 number of one hundred families, they shall set up a 
 grammar school, the master thereof being able to 
 instruct youth so far as they may be fitted for the 
 university."* Another ordinance provided that in 
 every town the selectmen should use all vigilance 
 to insure that every householder teach, by himself or 
 others, their children and apprentices so much learn- 
 ing as should enable them to read the English tongue 
 and obtain a knowledge of the laws.f If, for any 
 reason, the parent neglected to instruct his off- 
 spring, he was subjected to a fine, and the children 
 were educated under the direction of the town 
 authorities-^ " In these measures," says Bancroft, 
 "especially in the laws establishing common schools, 
 lies the secret of the success and character of New 
 England. Every child, as it was born into the world, 
 was lifted from the earth by the genius of the country, 
 and in the statutes of the land received as its birth- 
 right a pledge of the public care for its morals and 
 its mind."§ 
 
 Six years only after the first settlement in Mas- 
 sachusetts Bay the colonists laid in Cambridge the 
 foundation of a college. The manner in which it 
 
 * Colonial Laws, 1647. Bancroft, i., 458. 
 t Palfrey i , 46. 
 \ Code of 1650. 
 § Bancroft, i., 459. 
 
I SB Sermons. 
 
 was begun is as striking as anything in the ann:5ls 
 of education. 
 
 " The magistrates led the way by a subscription 
 among themselves of two hundred pounds for the 
 library. The comparatively wealthy followed with 
 gifts of twenty and thirty pounds. The needy 
 multitude succeeded, like the widow of old casting 
 their mites in the treasury. A number of sheep 
 was bequeathed by one man ; a quantity of cotton 
 cloth, worth nine shillings, was presented by an- 
 other ; a pewter flagon, worth ten shillings, by a 
 third ; a fruit dish, a sugar-spoon, a silver-tipt jug, 
 one great set and one smaller trencher set, by 
 others."* 
 
 This was the beginning. In the wilderness, be- 
 fore even their own houses were ceiled and plas- 
 tered, these New Englanders provided schools and 
 libraries and academies and colleges, in order that 
 the great ends of a free Christian commonwealth 
 might not be frustrated through the ignorance of 
 the people. 
 
 Take then your journey through that wilderness 
 now blooming as the rose, and witness the fruition 
 of the toil of the fathers. The whole land is laid 
 out in educational districts, and in every district, at 
 a convenient center, stands, with its white trimming, 
 the neat red school-house, humming with the pres- 
 
 * Morris, Christian Life, &c., of the United States, p. 74. 
 
The Pilgrim Temple-Builders. 1 89 
 
 ence of all the children in the community. In the 
 village, rises by the green the free academy, with 
 its superior instruction, its librar}^ and its modest 
 scientific apparatus. At Easthampton, at Exeter, 
 at Andover, and a score of other towns, the poor- 
 est boy may obtain the preparation for the uni- 
 versity, which in other lands is attainable only by 
 the sons of the wealthy and the noble. And that 
 College at Cambridge, which began with flagons 
 and trenchers in the woods, no larger than a dis- 
 trict school, to-day sends forth its ambassadors of 
 science to a distant empire* holding the majestic 
 Amazon in its bosom, to be we^omed by the sov- 
 ereign as royal guests, and sped on their way in 
 ships of war and state, to record the wondrous his- 
 tory of creation in the circling ages ere man him- 
 self was born. 
 
 Or if you will have the result of the wisdom of 
 the fathers in more tangible statistics, the propor- 
 tion of white adults over twenty years of age, un- 
 able to read and write, is, in the commonwealth of 
 Berkeley, one to every twelve ; in New Jersey it is 
 one to every fifty -eight ; in Massachusetts it is one 
 to every one hundred and sixty-six. In States less 
 subject to the influx of foreign ignorance, the cen- 
 sus is still more favorable. In Vermont the pro- 
 portion is one to every four hundred and seven ty- 
 
 * The recent expedition of Prof. Agassiz to Brazil. 
 
190 Sermons. 
 
 three ; and in Connecticut, one to every five hun- 
 dred and sixty-eight !* 
 
 One of the favored sons of New England, having 
 wandered back to the land of his ancestors, and 
 having, first of all Americans, been presented with 
 the freedom of the city of London, remembered his 
 native town and the little school-house in which he 
 laid the foundation of all his fortune. He sent the 
 old town of Danvers twenty-five thousand dollars 
 to establish a library, and then twenty-five thousand 
 dollars to build a literary institute ; and when his 
 munificent donations were converted into these fair 
 temples of learning, and Mr. Peabody himself came 
 to attend the celebration, the people stretched 
 across the street a banner bearing this sentiment 
 of the illustrious donor: ''Education, the debt ivhich 
 the present owes the fiittire!' 
 
 That royal benefactor learned his lesson of the 
 
 * Census of 1850. If I have said no more of Connecticut and 
 other New England States, it is not because they do not deserve it, 
 but because of the limits of the occasion. In its magnificent pro- 
 vision for popular education, Connecticut has long led the world. 
 One of its " Blue Laws " provided that, " The Selectmen, on finding 
 children ignorant, may take them away from their parents and put 
 them into better hands, at the expense of their parents." And 
 Yale College (chartered 1701), which, of all the seats of learning in 
 the land, has done most " Christo et ecdesia,''^ would have been 
 founded half a century earlier but for fear of weakening the sister 
 institution in Massachusetts Bay. Within nine years from the land- 
 ing of Davenport the lot was reserved for the future college. The 
 zeal for learning among the New Haven colonists was excelled only 
 by their magnanimity. 
 
The Pilgrim Temple-Bttildets. 191 
 
 Pilgrims. All the way from Plymouth Rock to the 
 last school-house fashioned by New England emi- 
 grants towards the setting sun, extends the glori- 
 ous legend, *' Education, the debt which the 
 PRESENT OWES THE FUTURE." Our fathers acknow- 
 ledged the mighty debt, and because they paid 
 it, and paid it so completely, New England sits 
 enthroned and mighty on her native hills ; her 
 granite rocks transformed to fruitful gardens ; her 
 rivers, whirling their million spindles, changed to 
 streams of gold ; her white-winged ships darting 
 straight as ocean birds to every haven, through 
 every clime ; her proclamations to thanksgiving 
 ringing from ten thousand Sabbath-bells ; her in- 
 violate love of freedom sanctified by reverence 
 for law ; the eternal monument of the wisdom and 
 sacrifice, the faith and the hope of the Pilgrims, 
 justifying to all the challenge of her greatest orator 
 in vindication of her first-born State, "There is 
 New England. There is her history ; the world 
 knows it by heart." 
 
 III. We are to speak now of the third great in- 
 stitution which our fathers founded — The Free 
 Commonwealth, to be the tower of Law. 
 
 Many of you have seen the picture hanging in 
 the parlor connected with this place of worship, 
 called the " Signing of the Compact." It is of no 
 more than ordinary merit as a work of art ; and yet 
 
192 Sermons. 
 
 how surpassingly grand are the associations which 
 it awakens. By the light descending through the 
 hatchway of the Mayflower we discover the fea- 
 tures of the founders of the nation. There, pen in 
 hand, is the wise and saintly Bradford, who in ad- 
 vancing age studied most of all the Hebrew, "be- 
 cause he would see with his own eyes the oracles of 
 God in their native beauty." There is the generous 
 Winslow, the future historian of the colony, and 
 Carver, soon to be its governor, and, alas, too scon 
 its martyr. There is Miles Standish, the Great-heart 
 of the Pilgrimage, clad in armor and leaning on his 
 sword. There, too, is Brewster, " seasoned with the 
 seeds of grace and virtue," stretching forth his hand 
 to heaven. Every thought of that goodly company 
 is obviously intent upon the document which lies 
 spread out upon the table. It is the constitution of 
 a free and Christian commonwealth, and is in these 
 memorable words : 
 
 •' In the name of God, Amen. We, whose names 
 are underwritten, the loyal subjects of our dread 
 sovereign King James, having undertaken for the 
 glory of God and advancement of the Christian faith 
 and honor of our king and country a voyage to 
 plant the first colony in the northern parts of Vir- 
 ginia, do by these presents solemnly and mutually, 
 in the presence of God and one of another, cove- 
 nant and combine ourselves together into a civil 
 
The Pilgrim Temple-Builders. 193 
 
 body politic, for our better ordering and preserva- 
 tion and furtherance of the ends aforesaid, and by 
 virtue hereof, to enact, constitute, and frame such 
 just and equal laws, ordinances, acts, constitutions 
 and offices, from time to time, as shall be thought 
 most convenient for the general good of the colony. 
 Unto which we promise all due submission and 
 obedience." * 
 
 Here, then, in the cabin of the Mayflower, we see 
 distinctly recognized, for the first time in the pro- 
 gress of liberty, the fundamental principle of the 
 right of the people to self-government. Henceforth 
 the light breaks in upon the dark ages of humanity. 
 Not in royal charters, nor in the enactments of a 
 proud and privileged aristocracy, but in man as 
 man — in every man created in the image of God — 
 inheres the right to provide for his own liberties as 
 a citizen and his own un trammeled worship as a 
 member of the body of Christ. Here in this im- 
 mortal instrument is the record of a consecration 
 and a coronation, by which all mankind are exalted 
 to be kings and priests unto God ; here is the pri- 
 mordial germ of that victorious empire which now 
 spans the continent after our last solemn struggle 
 for free institutions, as the rainbow smiles upon the 
 retreating storm. f 
 
 * Bancroft, i., 309. 
 
 t**As the Pilgrims landed, their institutions were already per* 
 
 9 
 
194 Sermons. 
 
 Under this self-made charter the Pilgrims elected 
 their governor and all necessary officers of justice ; 
 enacted all laws and executed them ; and did, in 
 general, all that pertains to the welfare of a free 
 and independent commonwealth. Similar constitu- 
 tions were framed by the settlers in Massachusetts 
 Bay and in the other New England colonies. 
 
 It has not escaped the notice of the clearest for- 
 eign writer upon " Democracy in America," that 
 the New England township is the unit from which 
 all our national institutions have been multiplied. 
 *' The independence of the township," says De- 
 Tocqueville, " was the nucleus round which the local 
 interests, passions, rights, and duties collected and 
 clung. It gave scope to the activity of a real po- 
 litical life, thoroughly democratic and republican. 
 The colonies still recognized the supremacy of the 
 mother country. Monarchy was still the law of the 
 State, but the republic was already established in 
 every township." * When, in a subsequent genera- 
 tion, the elder Adams was meditating upon the 
 proper mechanism of a federal union, which should 
 bind together the thirteen colonies in harmony and 
 liberty for the common good, he found the New 
 England township ready as the model of the State, 
 
 fected. Democratic liberty and independent Christian worship at 
 once existed in America." — Bancroft, i., 313. 
 
 * De Tocqueville, i., 50. 
 
The Pilgrim Temple-Builders. 195 
 
 which, while independent in its own affairs, should 
 be subordinate to the general government in all 
 those central powers and functions which belong to 
 our existence as a nation ; and the town meeting 
 itself, in which every citizen of every rank directly 
 participates in the responsibilities of government — 
 electing municipal officers, and enacting municipal 
 laws — has been the normal school in which millions 
 of the teachers of our freedom have themselves 
 been taught. 
 
 Two principles are especially conspicuous in these 
 institutions of the Pilgrims : one, their true estimate 
 of the dignity of man ; the other, their reverence 
 for law. They had learned in the Word of God 
 that all men were created of one blood, to dwell 
 upon the face of the whole earth. As God was the 
 father of all, so Christ was the Saviour of all, with- 
 out respect to rank or race. Heretofore there had 
 been rights for rulers, rights for priests, rights for 
 nobles, rights for favored guilds and corporations, 
 rights for men, — but no rights of man. The nations 
 had heretofore been constructed on the model of 
 Nebuchadnezzar's image, — the head was of gold, 
 the breast and arms of silver, the thighs of brass, 
 the legs of iron, and the feet of clay. The Puritan 
 iconoclast smote down the image with the stone of 
 justice, and in its stead set up a living man. A 
 signal illustration of this truly Christian estimate of 
 
196 Sermons. 
 
 humanity is afforded in the shrewd answer of 
 Cotton to several well-disposed English lords, who 
 made some overtures for emigration on condition 
 that their hereditary rank should be recognized by 
 the laws : " Where God blesseth any branch of any 
 noble or generous family with a spirit and gifts fit 
 for government, it would be a taking of God's name 
 in vain to put such a talent under a bushel, and a 
 sin against the honor of magistracy to neglect such 
 in our public elections. But if God should not de- 
 light to furnish some of their posterity with gifts fit 
 for magistracy, we should expose them rather to 
 prejudice and reproach, and the commonwealth with 
 them, than exalt them to honor, if we should call 
 them forth whom God doth not to public authority." * 
 And so it was that we never had any English lords 
 in America, but instead of them New England 
 men. 
 
 In accordance with this view of the intrinsic no- 
 bility of man was their judgment concerning human 
 slavery. In the fundamental code of the colony, 
 adopted in December, 1641, we find this memorable 
 declaration : *' There never shall be any bond-slavery, 
 villanage, or captivity among us, unless it be lawful 
 captives in just wars, and such strangers as will- 
 ingly sell themselves, orar»-«old unto us, and these 
 shall have all the liberties and Christian usages 
 
 Palfrey, i., 39O. 
 
The Pilgrim Temple-Builders. 197 
 
 which the law of God established in Israel concern- 
 ing such persons doth morally require." * In other 
 words, according to the awful meaning which we 
 have learned to attach to the term, there could be 
 no slavery at all. The service of a negro " stranger" 
 was based upon a contract for a term of years, to 
 which the servant was a consenting party. He was 
 in possession of the same immunities as the white 
 apprentice who was indentured for his passage 
 money. At the expiration of his apprenticeship, 
 the servant was not to be sent away empty. When 
 thus enfranchised the negro enjoyed all the rights 
 of citizenship. He was called upon to bear arms 
 in the militia, was an equal witness in courts of jus- 
 tice, could inherit, hold, and devise property, and, 
 if a member of the Church, might even exercise 
 the right of suffrage, from which his former master, 
 if a non-communicant, would be debarred. What- 
 ever may have been the violations of the law, no 
 person was ever born into legal slavery in any of 
 the New England States, f 
 
 When, a little later, two Massachusetts men, one 
 of them a member of the Church in Boston, at- 
 
 * Bancroft, i., 418. 
 
 t For a summary of proof see Palfrey, ii., 30. The Connecticut 
 law was copied from the Massachusetts Body of Liberties. The 
 New llaven Code was similar, being based upon the Scriptures. 
 Rhode Island had an express starue " that no black mankind or 
 white" should be forced, " by covenant, bond, or otherwise, to serve 
 any man o; his assigns longer than ten years." 
 
198 Sermons. 
 
 tempted to engage in that odious traffic in mankind 
 which the southern colonists found so profitable, the 
 criminals were arrested, as soon as they landed, as 
 offenders against the law of God and the law of the 
 country, and, " after advice with the elders, the 
 representatives of the people, bearing witness 
 against the heinous crime of man-stealing, ordered 
 the negroes to be restored, at the public charge, to 
 their native country, with a letter expressing the 
 indignation of the General Court at their wrongs." * 
 Even in that benighted age, when oppression in its 
 varied forms was all but universal, when great cities 
 and kings were rivals in the slave-trade, and when 
 even so good a man as William Penn lived and died 
 a slaveholder, one voice was heard a full century 
 before the time, " the voice as of one crying in 
 the wilderness," preparing the way in those mighty 
 revolutions of opinion which have culminated in 
 the destruction of the slave-trade, in the proclama- 
 tion of emancipation, and now in that Constitutional 
 Amendment, which sums up four gigantic years of 
 sacrifice in our golden line of law, whose sound has 
 gone forth into all the world. It is the voice of 
 New England. And any New Englander who, 
 living in these " foremost files of time," nevertheless 
 loves oppression, who defends that organic and or- 
 ganific sin which dishonors God by dehumanizing 
 
 * Bancroft, i., 174. 
 
The Pilgrim Temple-Builders. 199 
 
 man, or who denies to any of the enfranchised race 
 the essential prerogatives of manhood, is recreant 
 to his birthright and shames the memory of his 
 fathers. All that is good of him is underground. 
 
 The other great element of the Puritan freedom 
 was reverence for law. The first settlers of New 
 England came not hither to evade authority, 
 for the liberty of doing what was good in each 
 man's eyes. They looked upon society as of divine 
 establishment, and upon law as the divine mandate. 
 Nowhere was there a more law-abiding community. 
 Nowhere was the sword of justice so much a terror 
 to evil doers. Governor Winthrop, amid the ac- 
 clamations of his electors, declared, with fine 
 discrimination, " Liberty is the proper end and 
 object of authority, and cannot exist without it, 
 and it is a liberty only to that ivhich is just and 
 good and honest. This Liberty you are to stand 
 for, with the hazard not only of your goods, but of 
 your lives if need be. Whatsoever crosseth this 
 is not authority, but a distemper thereof"* 
 
 The Liberty which Winthrop praises is the 
 Liberty which is consistent with the general wel- 
 fare of mankind — the Liberty which is regulated 
 by righteous laws and institutions — the Liberty 
 for which his descendant in the seventh generation, 
 Theodore Winthrop, obediently stood, " with the 
 
 ♦Bancroft, i., 436. 
 
200 Set nions. 
 
 hazard not only of his goods, but of his life," and 
 fell upon the Virginian battle-field. That other 
 liberty, which he condemns as crossing this, is that 
 lawless violence which despised the constitution, 
 and strove to destroy the noblest heritage of man 
 to gratify the impulse of a mad ambition. He is 
 warning us against the distemper of secession and 
 the- guilt of treason to humanity. 
 
 These principles and these institutions New 
 England, intrenched within her tower of law, has 
 always been quick and strong to guard. Liberty 
 was more than a principle ; it was a passion. Any 
 sacrifice of wealth or comfort, or of dearest earthly 
 lies, might be made without a murmur ; but if one 
 iota of her liberty were endangered, she drew her 
 sword and stood defiant. When her prosperity as 
 a {x<i<t colony had excited the jealousy and wrath of 
 Charles T. and a commission was appointed in 1634 
 to regulate her politics and establish laws for the 
 government of Church and State, her spirit was 
 thoroughly aroused. It was rumored that a royal 
 governor was on the way. Then, poor as were the 
 infant settlements, they raised six hundred pounds 
 to fortify the harbors, and the ministers, convened 
 in Boston, declared unanimously, " we ought to de- 
 fend our lawful possessions if we are able," adding, 
 with a Yankee shrewdness, " if not able to avoid 
 and protract."* But Charles soon had other work 
 
 * Bancroft, i., 407. 
 
The Pilgrim Temple-Builders, 201 
 
 to attend to beside subduing the colonies, for the 
 Puritan called Cromwell was marshalling the stern 
 Ironsides who never lost a battle. 
 
 So, in the Providence of God, the little New 
 England colony, inaxinix gentis incunabula^ forgot- 
 ten amid the stormy events which were shaking 
 England and all Europe, had time to grow, and 
 mature her institutions and consolidate her strength, 
 so that henceforth no tyranny on earth could over- 
 throw them. 
 
 Little did George the Third understand the char- 
 acter of the New England institutions and the 
 spirit of the people, when he endeavored to wrest 
 away their immemorial birthright and deprive them 
 of the right of self-government by the might of an 
 armed soldiery. They hesitated, they remonstrated, 
 they petitioned ; but when the decisive moment 
 came, they hesitated not. They took down the old 
 musket from its resting-place, and, hasting from the 
 parting kiss of herioc wives and mothers, marched 
 through the night to Lexington. And on that 
 April morning which succeeded, the " embattled 
 farmers" stood upon the green, undaunted by the 
 foe. They fired the signal gun of Independence, 
 and from that moment they rested not, through 
 seven long years of blood, till the starry flag un- 
 furled at Cambridge was the symbol of a free and 
 sovereign people. 
 
202 Sermons. 
 
 And there was another April morning, dark and 
 sad, which we all remember, when southern traitors 
 threatened to quench half the stars in the blue 
 heaven of freedom — a solemn morning, when the 
 foe had boasted that ere May their perjured hosts 
 should take possession of the capitol: — a desperate 
 morning, when the breathless nation was waiting 
 for the tramp of its defenders ; then it was, by a 
 coincidence so striking that it seemed a spi^cial 
 ordering of Providence, the anniversary of Lexing- 
 ton found the New England men all ready for the 
 conflict. They left the field unplowed, the store 
 untended ; they forgot the wedding and the fune- 
 ral, as in the olden time ; they could hear nothing 
 but the voice of Freedom summoning them to finish 
 what the Pilgrims had begun. Other patriots were 
 not delinquent in hasting at the call ; but, at the 
 end of time, to New England will belong the glory 
 of being first in preparation, first in response, first 
 in that immortal roll of martyrs who, at Baltimore 
 and Shiloh and Gettysburg and Richmond, above 
 the clouds at Chattanooga, and in the rigging of 
 the ships at Mobile, hurled themselves against se- 
 cession ; the first of that great sacrifice of three 
 hundred thousand slain, by whose death the nation 
 lives, and not only lives, but sJiall live, with every 
 fetter shivered and every taint of treason burnt out 
 with battle-lightning, " pure as the naked heavens," 
 and established on Plymouth Rock. 
 
TJie Pilgrini Teniplc-B^tilders. ^ 203 
 
 These, then, are the institutions of New England 
 — the free Church, the free school, and the free 
 commonwealth. These are the strong towers, the 
 lofty bulwarks of the Zion, which the Pilgrims 
 builded for the generations following, beautiful for 
 situation, the joy of the whole earth. With grati- 
 tude and filial reverence, we go back to the sacrifi- 
 cial years in which, like the ancient temple-builders, 
 they labored in the work, " half of them holding 
 the spears from the rising of the morning till the 
 stars appeared." And when the towers of freedom's 
 sanctuary at last shoot up above the forests of the 
 wilderness, we seem to hear the psalm of dedication 
 in the resounding stave of the old version of 
 Sternhold and Hopkins : 
 
 " Go walke about all Syon hill, yea round about her go, 
 And tell the towres that thereupon are builded in a roe ; 
 And marke you well her bulwarks all, behold her towres there, 
 That ye may tell thereof to them that after shall be here ; 
 For this God is our God, forevermore is Hee ; 
 Yea and unto the death also, our guider shall He be.*' 
 
 These are the New England institutions. Are 
 tiny worth preserving f Ai^e they ivortJi extending f 
 
 Generation after generation had passed away 
 above the dreamless sleep of the Pilgrims. Sixteen 
 hundred became eighteen hundred, and the snows 
 of December were changed to the flowers of the 
 new-mown grass of June, when the descendants of 
 the Plymouth colonists, having just emerged vic- 
 torious from a dread Rebellion, ^fathered from all 
 
204 Sermons. 
 
 the land the delegates of three thousand Pilgrim 
 Churches, to consider what next duty was demanded 
 of them by their country and their Saviour. It was 
 nothing less than the establishment of free and 
 christian institutions throughout all that continent 
 which their fathers had consecrated to Christ. 
 They went in reverent pilgrimage to the graves of 
 the forefathers. They stood on Burial Hill, and 
 there, with the rolling ocean which had been 
 ploughed with the Mayflower before them, with the 
 mouldering dust of the saints beneath them, and 
 cloudless canopy of heaven above them — on such 
 an altar, in such a shrine, on such a day — they regis- 
 tered their vow to be true to the faith of the fathers- 
 
 With such an inspiration they said upon the 
 morrow. Let these Pilgrim Churches, small and 
 great, seeing what God has laid upon them, in next 
 December, when the rolling year shall bring around 
 the Sabbath that leads on the anniversary of the 
 Mayflower, let all these scattered sons of New 
 England, as if gathered at a thanksgiving feast, lift 
 up a psalm of thankfulness together for the memory 
 of the fathers and their work, and let them make a 
 monumental offering which shall establish the 
 Churches of the Puritans as the towers and bulwarks 
 of the land. 
 
 Brethren, the time has come ! Not the council 
 only, but the Pilgrims ; not the Pilgrims only, but 
 
The Pilgrim Temple-Builders. 205 
 
 the God of the Pilgrims, is calling for our full 
 measure of devotion. 
 
 As I look around me, I am reminded that I speak 
 to many who, according to the flesh, cannot deduce 
 their lineage from the Pilgrim stock, and who might 
 almost think that they had no share in the great 
 inheritance. We are gathered here from all quar- 
 ters of the land — sons of New Jersey first moulded 
 by Connecticut Puritans ; sons of New York, a 
 portion of whose territory was once included with- 
 in the limits of New England ; and some have fol- 
 lowed freedom's westward star in the track of the 
 Mayflower across the rolling ocean. But Plymouth 
 Rock is not a stone. It is a principle. The line of 
 descent is not blood in the veins, but freedom in 
 the heart. If you have the fathers' faith, then are 
 ye heirs according to the promise. As members of 
 this Church of Christ, attesting the Pilgrim faith 
 and established upon the Pilgrim polity, dedicated, 
 as I trust, to those grand objects of civil and re- 
 ligious liberty for which the Pilgrims left their 
 native land, we all have a right by the heraldry of 
 heaven to claim them as our peculiar ancestry, to 
 rejoice in the priceless inheritance which they have 
 bequeathed us, and as we follow Robinson and 
 Winthrop and Carver and Bradford in their ascend- 
 ing flight from the toil and victory of earth to ex- 
 claim with filial gratitude, and pride, and love, "My 
 
2o6 Sermons. 
 
 Father ! my Father ! the chariots of Israel and the 
 horsemen thereof!" 
 
 Sons of the Pilgrims, are you ready, then, for 
 action ? Do you have at heart the moral desolation 
 of the nation debauched by slavery and blasted by 
 war ? How shall we better show our love to Jesus 
 than by imitating those who voyaged hither not for 
 their own sake but for the advancement of the 
 kingdom of Christ ? Where in all the world is the 
 field whiter for the harvest than among the en- 
 franchised population of both races at the South ? 
 And how can we do a higher service for the Master 
 than by laying the foundations of Christian Churches, 
 honoring God and loving man, in the centres of 
 all those mighty empires of the people which lie in 
 the pathway of the sun from the surges of the 
 Atlantic to the murmur of the streams that wash 
 the Pacific's golden strand? Plant there New 
 England Churches and you shall have New Eng- 
 land Christians. Now, in this formative, this trans- 
 itional period is the proper moment for establishing 
 them. This winter day is the moral spring-time in 
 which to scatter all our seed. 
 
 And are you true to your country — anxious to 
 adopt such measures as shall best secure the nation 
 from such awful perils as those through which it 
 has just struggled t Do you think that if the South 
 had been permeated with New England institutions 
 
The Pilgrim Temple-Builders. 207 
 
 we should ever have had to tremble for the ark of 
 God, and follow in the sad procession to bewail 
 300,000 dead ? If the streams of New England in- 
 fluence had flowed southward as they did westward, 
 would not the South have been as loyal as the great 
 heart of the West ? And now that the armies of 
 the Rebellion are disbanded, and the Rebellion it- 
 self still lives in the souls of the southern people, 
 exasperating them against the freedmen on the one 
 hand and against the hated " Yankees " on the other, 
 what better garrison can you find than a New Eng- 
 land Church,' and what better standing army than 
 the members of that Church, softening the asperities 
 of war with Christian kindness, teaching men their 
 duty to their fellow-men and bowing down together 
 before the common Father, whose gifts are liberty 
 and peace ? 
 
 Not only, then, as lovers of New England, but as 
 lovers of our whole country, barring up the path- 
 way to any future destruction; yes, as a thank- 
 offering to the God of our fathers for sparing the 
 nation which they founded, we are called to build 
 these institutions in the West and South. 
 
 Never did so memorable a day usher so sublime 
 an enterprise as this simultaneous offering of three' 
 thousand Pilgrim Churches to establish the faith 
 and freedom of their ancestors over a territory so 
 vast that, although aiming to be contemporaneous, 
 
2o8 Sermons. 
 
 when we shall have finished oitr memorial service, 
 the New Englanders of the Pacific shall not have 
 yet begun. As I think upon the magnitude of such 
 an undertaking, I almost tremble lest the children 
 shall not prove themselves worthy of the old stock 
 — lest, engrossed in their own comforts and suc- 
 cesses, they shrink from the sacrifice which is de- 
 manded. 
 
 Yet I feel an inspiration in me that the work 
 s^hall all be finished. This snow is an omen of vic- 
 tory.* As if God had sent it to be a messenger, it 
 leads us back to that first forefathers' day, when, 
 amid wild men and wild beasts in the unbroken 
 wilderness, not fathers only, but mothers also, were 
 exposed to the storms of winter, and had not where 
 to lay their heads. The air is full of voices. Every 
 memorial flake that drops its whiteness around our 
 beautiful tabernacle and our luxurious dwellings, 
 bids us with more eloquence than human lips can 
 master, to imitate, according to our poor fashion, 
 the sacrifice of those immortal men who, while lay- 
 ing the foundations for posterity amid hardships that 
 call for tears, said with such touching pathos: 
 ** When we are in our graves, it will be all one 
 whether we have died on beds of down or locks of 
 straw." 
 
 Yes ! ye immortal heroes, or rather saints in light, 
 
 * The snow was falling during the delivery of the discourse. 
 
The Pilgrim Temple-Builders. 209 
 
 we will remember you this day. We will look with 
 pride and thankfulness upon this Zion which ye 
 builded for the coming ages. We will mark well 
 your glorious bulwarks, and tell all your granite 
 towers. We will build up your spiritual palaces, 
 and in monumental sanctuaries perpetuate your 
 fame to the generation following. 
 
 And this mighty nation which by Faith ye saw 
 afar, coming up out of great tribulation with its 
 robes all washed in blood, shall be leavened with 
 your life, consecrated to that Christ to whom ye 
 gave it on the rock, and, girded with the omnipo- 
 tence of justice, shall be established in your faith 
 and freedom. 
 
 "Till the waves of the Bay where the Mayflower lay 
 Shall foam and freeze no more." 
 
210 Sermons. 
 
 [The following stanzas, written on the same occasion which called forth the fore- 
 going sermon, may be properly appended in this place.] 
 
 BURIAL HILL. 
 June, 1865. 
 
 Morning on the pines of Plymouth 
 
 Breaketh with a song of June, 
 Cloudless morning calmly climbing 
 
 To the pomp of perfect noon. 
 
 Far away the peaceful waters, 
 
 Drowsing in the dreamy bay. 
 Scarcely stir the island shadows 
 
 Where of old the Mayflower lay. 
 
 At our feet the starry daisies, 
 
 Springing from the Pilgrims' dust, 
 
 Turning death itself to glory. 
 Fitly tell the Pilgrims' trust. 
 
 They in storms of dark December, 
 
 Scions of a martyr stock. 
 Praised the Lord for all His mercies. 
 
 Kneeling there upon the rock. 
 
 Praised Him while the blast was roaring, 
 While the surges smote the strand ; 
 
 Praised Him while their hearts were yearning 
 With their love for fatherland. 
 
 In the wilds of death they wrestled, 
 Seeking what by faith they saw ; 
 
 ** Little matter what they died on — 
 Beds of down or locks of straw." 
 
 Little recked they pain or peril, 
 
 Ocean wave or scaffold block, 
 They who bore the name of Pilgrim, 
 
 They who built upon the rock. 
 
 For afar they caught a vision — 
 
 Morning merging into noon. 
 Snow-wreaths melting into blossoms, 
 
 Dark December changed to June. 
 
The Pilgrmt Temple-Builders. 21 1 
 
 Now at length that day has broken, 
 When, with garments rolled in blood, 
 
 Lo ! a free, victorious nation 
 Lifts its stainless hands to God. 
 
 Then with eyes still wet with weeping, 
 
 But with hearts heroic still. 
 Came the children of the Pilgrims, 
 
 For an hour on Burial Hill. 
 
 There is queenly Massachusetts, 
 
 With her fair New England train ; 
 There the heirs of El Dorado, 
 
 Winding from the western main. 
 
 There a thousand Pilgrim churches, 
 
 From the continent's expanse ; 
 There the scattered flocks descended 
 
 From the slaughtered saints of France. 
 
 There the kindred hearts of England, 
 
 Beating as in days of yore, 
 Twine the speech of Vane and Milton 
 
 Round the name the fathers bore. 
 
 Thus defiled the long procession 
 
 Past the rock and past the waves. 
 Onward up the hill of Plymouth, 
 
 Till it reached the ancient graves. 
 
 Then the solemn Declaration 
 
 Swelled upon the summer air, 
 Bringing saintly shapes so near us 
 
 That we bowed our heads in prayer. 
 
 Till with every hand uplifted, 
 
 Every knee upon the sod, 
 Every heart in consecration 
 
 Gave itself anew to God. 
 
 Praising Him for all the fathers 
 
 Wrought for God and wrought for man. 
 
 Asking Him for grace to finish 
 What the Pilgrim sires began. 
 
 J. M. H. 
 
THE DANGER OF LOOK- 
 ING BACK. 
 
THE 
 
 DANGER OF LOOKING BACK. 
 
 " Remember Lot's wife." 
 
 Luke xvii. 32. 
 
 The injunction of Christ to remember this woman 
 shows that there is something significant in her 
 history, which He would impress upon the minds of 
 His disciples. Yet when we search the ancient re- 
 cords we find scarcely a word of detail concerning 
 her life. We do not even know her name or age 
 or birthplace. All our knowledge and all our inter- 
 est are concentrated in one single verse of Genesis, 
 occurring in the midst of the narrative which relates 
 the fate of the wicked cities of Sodom and Gomorrah. 
 
 These cities were well situated in the rich valley 
 of the Jordan, and were the emporiums of the wealth 
 and commerce of that early period. But the in- 
 habitants were so dissipated and vile in character, 
 that their name has become, in all modern languages, 
 the symbol of impurity and abomination. Upon 
 these Sodomites the Lord is about to pour the 
 thunderbolts of His righteous indignation, and 
 heavenly messengers are despatched to warn Lot, 
 the only righteous man in the whole community, 
 
2i6 Sermons. 
 
 of the impending danger. He is bidden to take 
 his wife and his two daughters, and to escape with 
 all haste to the mountain, that he may not be con- 
 sumed. While he lingers, the messengers, with 
 earnest interest in his salvation, take him by the 
 hand and take the hand of his wife and the hands 
 of his daughters, and lead them outside the city of 
 destruction. Then, with still more urgent entreaty. 
 Lot is bidden to lose no time in his departure, 
 " Escape for thy life ; look not behind thee, neither 
 stay thou in all the plain : escape to the mountain, 
 lest thou be consumed." 
 
 Lot with his two daughters heard the exhortation 
 of the Lord, and by the mercy of the Almighty, 
 manifested signally even in the midst of justice, 
 they find refuge in the city of Zoar which is spared 
 in answer to the prayer of Lot. But not so with 
 one of the number. The wife — and mother, is 
 overtaken with destruction. This is the record 
 which our Saviour in the text summons us to re- 
 member, '' But his wife looked back from behind 
 him, and she became a pillar of salt." 
 
 I shall not present any speculations as to the 
 various methods of explaining the nature of her 
 death. All the necessities of the case are fully met, 
 if we suppose that she lingered to look back, in di- 
 rect opposition to the urgent command of the divine 
 messengers, and that she was overtaken and en- 
 
The Danger of Looking Back. 2 1 7 
 
 Veloped in the eruption of saline and bituminous 
 particles, which suffocated her and shrouded her 
 and left her a standing monument of disobedience 
 and apostacy. 
 
 Something akin to this would seem to have oc- 
 curred at the destruction of Pompeii by volcanic 
 fire, near the beginning of the Christian era. By 
 the researches of the present century the remains 
 oi many persons have been discovered, who evi- 
 dently lost their lives by lingering too long when 
 the fiery deluge was advancing with its inexorable 
 tide. Among other sad memorials of that day of 
 desolation, a cavity was discovered in a block of 
 lava, which seemed to suggest that it had been the 
 coffin of a human being. It occurred to the dis- 
 coverer that by pouring in plaster of Paris he might 
 use the lava as a mould. The block was then 
 carefully opened, and lo ! a full life statue of a wo- 
 man, apparantly young and beautiful, with the form 
 of her agonized features, and even the folds of her 
 dress and the marks of her jeweled fingers, still 
 plainly discernible after the lapse of eighteen cen- 
 turies ; a perpetual monument of the doom of 
 one who looked back for friends or jewels when she 
 should have hastened for her life. 
 
 But we are not to dwell upon the literal destruc- 
 tion ; Christ makes use of this for a spiritual purp(Tse. 
 And with this end in view, I wish to institute a 
 
 10 
 
2 1 8 Sermons. 
 
 comparison between the conduct of Lot's wife, and 
 the conduct of other sinners ; between her awful fate 
 and that of many sinners who become eternal monu- 
 ments of the danger of looking back when once 
 they have set their faces toward the mountain of 
 salvation. 
 
 Let us remember Lot's wife. Remember in the 
 first place. 
 
 (i) That this woman was in real danger. 
 The men of Sodom evidently had no belief in 
 the warning of the heavenly messengers. Some of 
 them had assembled to participate in an awful sin, 
 and with their horrid purpose burning in their hearts, 
 all remonstrance seemed to be in vain. It was in 
 vain. They paid no regard to the voice of righteous- 
 ness, nor even to the sacred appeal of violated 
 hospitality. The angels they despised as ordinary 
 strangers. And when the Lord would convince 
 them and rebuke them and they were stricken with 
 blindness, even then, the sightless watchers groped 
 about in bestial rage, wearying themselves to 
 find the door of Lot. What a vivid picture of 
 the determination of the soul to sin, in spite of the 
 remonstrances of the Almighty in warnings and in 
 judgments. They did not believe there was any 
 danger. They would take the risk for the sake of 
 a momentary gratification of their passions. Still 
 the voice went on resounding with the note of 
 
TJie Danger of Looking Back. 219 
 
 danger. Lot hastened to the members of his 
 family, and told his sons-in-law that the Lord was 
 about to destroy the city, and conjured them to be- 
 lieve him. They smiled at the old man. They 
 looked around and their eyes saw no smoke, their 
 ears caught no rumblings of destruction, their 
 nostrils inhaled no sulphurous fumes. Poor old 
 Lot ! He must be getting a little b<^side himself 
 In the expressive words of the record, " He seemed 
 as one that mocked unto his sons-in-law." They 
 did not believe that they were in any danger. 
 
 Even Lot himself, though he received implicitly 
 the assurance of God, was not so much impressed 
 with the reality and awfulness of the impending 
 destruction as one might naturally expect. He 
 believed that the city was to be destroyed, but still 
 there was not an overwhelming sense of danger 
 which should swallow up all other thought and 
 action. He began quietly and mournfully to take 
 his departure, supposing that this was enough. 
 But there was need of greater energy. He stood 
 on the crater of a volcano, and the fiery surges were 
 boiling till the ground was hot. " And while he 
 lingered," says the record, " the men laid hold upon 
 his hand, and upon the hand of his wife and upon 
 the hand of his two daughters ; the Lord being 
 merciful unto him : and they brought him forth, 
 and set him without the city." Still the men of 
 
. 2 20 Sermons. 
 
 Sodom argued that there was no danger. They 
 saw no portents. The sky was serene and the sun 
 shone with brightness in the unclouded heaven. 
 The smiths were busy at their forges. The build- 
 ers were laying their bricks for commodious habita- 
 tions. The wains were hauling the produce. 
 The shepherds were leading their flocks to the 
 dewy pastures. The traffickers were busy and 
 shrewd. What sign was there of the truth of the 
 wild story of Lot } 
 
 And, moreover, how unreasonable such a destruc- 
 tion would appear to them. We may imagine a 
 knot of Sodomites discoursing upon the probabili- 
 ties. There are sons-in-law connected with a pious 
 family, and the blind men who are somehow more 
 than usually ready to talk about God, now that 
 morning has come. 
 
 " There is no evidence at all satisfactory to my 
 mind," says a scientific man, " that nature is to be 
 turned out of her ordinary course. The belief is 
 only to be regarded as a superstition. Lot, you 
 know, is a priest. We must not be aftected too 
 much by his peculiar notions. We must be broad- 
 minded and liberal — all will be well." 
 
 " Who ever heard of such a thing T says ano- 
 ther ; "a whole city to be burned up by the Almighty 
 on account of its sins ; I admit that most of us 
 bear a somewhat disreputable character. But, after 
 
The Danger of L ooking Back. 221 
 
 all, what is the character but the natural develop- 
 ment of the passions which were ours from birth ? 
 What is this so-called sin but a natural weakness, 
 involving imperfection rather than guilt ? It would 
 clearly be an act of injustice for the Almighty to 
 inflict such a destruction upon us on account 01 
 such weaknesses as these. The punishment would 
 be out of all proportion to the guilt. No, my 
 friends, God will not be guilty of such injustice. 
 Go on with your inclinations. Be of good cheer. 
 The city is safe." 
 
 " Safe," says one of the blind men ; " who can 
 doubt it except that dotard Lot, and the men that 
 were with hitn in that accursed house } Why can- 
 not he leave us poor, blind fellows alone } If God 
 had intended to punish us. He has fulfilled His 
 intention. Are we not blind t This then may be 
 the judgment of the Almighty ; and if the penalty 
 is paid, there is no future danger in store for us." 
 
 " To be sure," adds one of the sons-in-law ; " it 
 made me smile to see the earnestness with which 
 the old gentleman spoke. A very well meaning 
 man, one who is personally dear to all who know 
 him ; but his theology is terribly out of joint. It is 
 probably the effect of his early training. He has 
 been so long associated with Abraham his uncle, 
 and has become so hardened by the slaughter of 
 animals for sacrifice, that his views of religion are 
 
222 Sermons. 
 
 stern and severe, and if I might so speak, bloody. 
 It is congenial to him to expect the ruin of the city 
 by fire. But the God whom I recognize is a father. 
 Imagine an earthly father pouring burning flames 
 upon a whole city full of his children and their kin- 
 dred. The thing is inconceivable. How then are 
 we to suppose, for an instant, that our heavenly 
 Father, who is all compassion, would indulge in such 
 a cruelty "i No, no, my friends. Quiet your appre- 
 hensions about justice. God is altogether too good." 
 
 But hark ! What rumbling sound is that 1 What 
 means this darkening sun ; and why this ominous 
 chill 1 Even while they are mocking and disputing, 
 the thunder-bolt has burst upon the guilty city. 
 The heavens are blinded. The earth staggers. 
 The volcanoes thunder. The air is glowing in the 
 distance. On the fiery flood advances. Amid- the 
 bellowings of cattle, the groans of nature, and the 
 despairing shrieks of doubters and blasphemers, 
 the city is deluged with consuming fire, while Lot 
 and his family are fleeing for their lives, just on 
 the edge of the devouring storm, whose sulphurous 
 breath and whirling flames threaten to overtake 
 them. Oh ! haste thee. Lot I Haste thee ! Look 
 not behind thee, neither stay thee in all the plain ! 
 On, on, on to the mountain, lest thou be con- 
 sumed ! 
 
 (2) In the light of this terrible judgment, we 
 
The Danger of L ooking Back, 223 
 
 surely cannot be in doubt as to the reality of the 
 danger which threatened the wife of Lot. God had 
 solemnly declared by His messengers that the 
 wicked city should be destroyed. Onsthe morrow 
 Abraham got up early and looked toward Sodom 
 and Gomorrah, and toward all the land of the plain, 
 and behold and lo ! the- smoke of the country went 
 up as the smoke of a furnace. And where is Lot's 
 wife } She is not included in the general des- 
 truction. She has certain advantages from her 
 connection with a pious husband. She saw the 
 heavenly messengers who visited his house. She 
 knew the meaning of the blindness. She witnessed 
 the urgency of the angel's entreaty to leave the 
 place. She was strongly moved by the implicit 
 belief and obedient example of her husband. She 
 had warning upon warning. A shhiing one even 
 tookher by the hand, and thrust her out of the 
 city, and still this woman was destroyed stopping in 
 the race for safety, thinking perhaps of the safety 
 of treasures or the fate of friends, or disbelieving that 
 God would in very deed consume the beautilul city ; 
 at any rate, disobeying the express command of God 
 not to linger for a moment, not to look back. She 
 turned to gaze upon the awful spectacle. She tar- 
 ried too long. On the wings of the wind the dead- 
 ly storm encircled her ; and thus, midway between 
 salvation and destruction, she perished in the over- 
 
224 Sermons. 
 
 throw of Sodom. Ah, yes, the danger was real; 
 real, not only to the wicked wretches of the plain, 
 but also to this good man's wife, reputable in 
 character, somewhat influenced for good, and 
 making a show of obeying the commandment of 
 the Lord, but dying on her way to salvation. Our 
 Saviour would have us remember this. 
 
 (3) It is quite evident, from the whole narrative, 
 that Lot's wife, though she perished miserably, and 
 for all purposes of safety, might just as well have 
 remained with the blind blasphemers in the doomed 
 city, was yet fully warned of her condition. 
 If the judgment had burst forth without any pre- 
 liminary notice, God might perhaps have been 
 regarded as unmerciful. But His mercy is shown 
 in giving to all the inhabitants the fullest and most 
 solemn assurance of the coming destruction. Long 
 before the great eruptions which engulf the Italian 
 towns, the peasants discern the prophecy in the 
 rumblings and commotions which seem to warn 
 them from the bowels of the earth. As the day 
 of terror approaches, the kine toss their heads and 
 utter strange cries of fear. The birds whirl scream- 
 ing, as if the heralds of a subterranean storm. The 
 ground undulates, as if pressed by a molten tide of 
 lava. Then the people fly for refuge to the distant 
 mountains, none of them so hardy as to shut their 
 ears to such solemn portents. They are accepted 
 
The Danger of L ooking- Back. 225 
 
 as the voice of a merciful God. And thus, in 
 Sodom, came the express warnings of the Almighty ; 
 the warning of the two angels, the warning of the 
 stroke of blindness, the repeated warning of the 
 saintly guests, the warning of her husband, the 
 warning of her own senses, as she heard the crash 
 of the burning city mingling with the wail of the 
 lost. Over and over again, with every variety of 
 supplication and remonstrance, even to the jDhysical 
 act of thrusting her along out of the city, she had 
 been warned with all the energy of conjugal and of 
 celestial love. Never, either in her dying agonies 
 nor in the world to come, can this poor woman 
 plead that she was taken by surprise ; nay, that she 
 did not have warning abundantly, more than thous- 
 ands of others who perished in the flames. Our 
 Saviour would have us remember this. 
 
 (4) Another memorable circumstance in the 
 history is, that this woman was almost saved. A 
 spectator, who from a distant height had witnessed 
 the whole scene of destruction, had seen the great 
 majority of the inhabitants mocking, indifferent and 
 independent, and had caught sight of this one 
 family of Lot, out of the city, away from the pre- 
 sent sweep of the flames, with their faces set to- 
 wards the mountains, eagerly hastening their 
 footsteps at the bidding of the angels ; such a one 
 could scarcely have entertained a doubt that all of 
 
226 Sermons. 
 
 these were safe. Yet one of the number perished. 
 Perished after she knew her danger, perished after 
 V she had resolved to fly, perished away from the 
 ^^ common multitude of sinners, perished not far from 
 a praying husband, perished not long after the vis- 
 ion of angels, perished when she was making some 
 effort to escape, perished within sight of the moun- 
 tain, perished when one final determination would 
 have placed her beyond the barrier of fire. So 
 perishes the homeward-bound ship. It has taken its 
 freight of life and wealth from China and Japan, half 
 the circumference of the world away. It has passed 
 over the great watery waste where swim the levia- 
 thans. It has breasted the monsoons of the Indian 
 Ocean, and rounded the Cape, and laughed at the 
 gales of the Atlantic, and at last, after lonely months 
 of struggle and victory, makes the distant lighthouse 
 off Sandy Hook. She is almost home. Another 
 tide will bear her to her slip. Another hour will 
 waft these loved ones to the hearts that wait upon 
 the shore. But down comes the northeaster. There 
 arc the frowning rocks. O God! The good ship 
 is dashed upon the breakers ! wrecked at the mouth 
 of the harbor, almost saved ! After ten thousand 
 miles of safety, lost within sight of home! 
 
 In what respect, then, was Lot's wife the better 
 for the effort she had made, and the distance from 
 the city at which she died } As far as the result 
 
The Danger of L ooking Back. 227 
 
 was concerned, she gained nothing. She might 
 just as well have tarried with her sons-in-law, and 
 abode by her stuff. It would have been just as well 
 for her if she had mocked or scorned or entirely 
 neglected the message. Just as well for her if she 
 had pleaded weakness or domestic employments, 
 want of time, or want of ability to undertake the 
 journey of salvation. She could but have perished 
 in the city, and she perished outside its walls. Her 
 character was in many respects quite superior to 
 that of the wicked Sodomites, but she perished 
 with the same destruction which consumed them. 
 In what respect then was her effort at escape of 
 any avail } It was of avail in that so far as she 
 made the effort, she was farther and farther from 
 the danger. It was of just as much avail as it 
 would have been if she had been saved, for then 
 she would have been obliged to put forth just the 
 same exertion. It was of essential importance just 
 as far as it was continued, and failed of complete 
 success, not because of what ivas done, but because 
 when the partial success summoned her to unpre- 
 cedented and victorious energy, she relaxed her 
 speed, lost the sense of danger, stopped to look and 
 consider, stopped it may be to weep over her lost 
 kindred, when God had said to her, " Look not back, 
 haste- for thy Ufe, escape to the rnountain lest thou 
 be consumed." 
 
228 Sermons. 
 
 This woman had great advantages, advantages 
 worth all the world to her. A few more steps might 
 have crowned all her exertions with salvation. 
 As it was, she miserably perished, and on the sul- 
 phurous pedestal at her feet the angels might have 
 written for the admonition of all coming generations, 
 "Almost saved." Remember Lot's wife. 
 
 (5) One other thought remains for our remem- 
 brance. Lot's wife was destroyed because she 
 looked back. Our Saviour in presenting the des- 
 truction of Sodom and the death of Lot's wife to 
 His disciples, would seem to intimate that the 
 ruling motive for the delay was a hankering after 
 worldly goods. " In that day," the day of the Son 
 of Man, " he which shall be upon the house-top, and 
 his stuff in the house, let him not come down to 
 take it away ; and he that is in the field, let him 
 likewise not return back. Remember Lot's wife." 
 It is quite in accordance with the probabilities of 
 the case that the ill-fated woman was thinking of 
 her household gear, for her husband was one of 
 the princes of the city. It is probable that she was, 
 on the very verge of her final agony, lamenting over 
 the destruction of furnishings and hangings, pictures 
 of tapestry, and utensils of silver and the pleasant 
 habitation in which she had enjoyed them. Poor, 
 foolish woman, to be thus endangering her life for 
 the sake of her household goods ! But you will say 
 
The Danger of Looking Back. 229 
 
 that her heart may have been with her family who 
 remained. But even then, if she could not save 
 them, the duty remained equally urgent to follow 
 the bidding of Heaven. Lot had as true a concern 
 for his kindred as did his wife, but the Lord had 
 given him the command to flee. He obeyed the 
 Lord, but his wife set her emotions and feelings in 
 opposition to a direct commandment of the Al- 
 mighty. Whatever the motive which prompted 
 her, this was her guilt, that God said, look not back 
 for thy life, and she disobeyed the warning. God 
 knew the influences which would magnetize her 
 toward the city of destruction ; and therefore it was 
 that the exhortation was so urgent not to lose a 
 moment, not to waste a thought, not to cast a 
 lingering look behind her, but press on till she %vas 
 saved. If she had but continued with the same 
 earnestness with which she began, if she had re- 
 nounced every other desire and hope in the one 
 resolve to escape from Sodom, who can doubt that 
 she would have been successful ; who can doubt 
 that she had the same ability to finish as to begin 
 her deliverance ; who can doubt that Lot longed 
 for it, and that the angels who urged her, and the 
 Almighty who sent the angels longed for it } But 
 she hesitated, she lingered, she looked back, and 
 she became a pillar of salt ; an everlasting monument 
 to those who begin to obey the Almighty, but stop 
 
230 Sei'mons. 
 
 to look back upon the world. O wretched woman ! 
 In such inevitable danger, as warned by men and 
 angels, so conscious of the danger, so near the con- 
 fines of salvation, and yet destroyed in the flames of 
 Sodom, destroyed by looking back ! Remember 
 Lot's wife. 
 
 This eventful history would be to us, my hearers, 
 as an idle tale, if we failed to draw the proper in- 
 ference as to our own salvation. All these things 
 are examples, and they are written for our admon- 
 ition upon whom the ends of the world have come. 
 Christ would have us remember Lot's wife in order 
 that her fate may be a solemn warning to all who 
 are not yet saved. Let us complete the parellel. 
 The danger to Lot's wife was not imaginary, it was 
 real. Precisely as the word of the Lord had spoken, 
 the fire and brimstone rained upon the wicked city. 
 The inhabitants did eat, they drank, they bought, 
 they sold, they planted, they builded ; " but the same 
 day that Lot went out of Sodom, it rained fire and 
 brimstone from heaven, and destroyed them all : 
 even thus shall it be in the day when the Son of 
 Man is revealed." The evidence of the danger to 
 unrepenting sinners is precisely the same as that 
 which was given to the scoffers of Sodom. It is 
 the word of the Lord. He sent His messengers 
 with supernatural credentials, saying, ** Up, get yoii 
 out of this place ; for the Lord will destroy this city," 
 
The Danger of Looking Back. 231 
 
 Was it not destroyed ? He sends now by His ser- 
 vants the prophets, and by His only begotten Son, 
 saying, " The wicked shall be turned into hell." 
 "He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life. 
 He that believeth not the Son shall not see life ; 
 but the wrath of God abideth on him." " Except a 
 man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of 
 God." " Indignation and wrath, tribulation and an- 
 guish, upon every soul of man that doeth evil." '* Ex- 
 cept ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish." " These 
 shall go away into everlasting punishment." "And 
 there shall in no wise enter into it anything that 
 defileth, neither whatsoever worketh abomination or 
 maketh a lie ; but they which are written in the 
 Lamb's book of life." This is the word of God. 
 As you listen, some of you may cry out against the 
 superstition of a hell, some of you may mock, some 
 of you may wrap yourselves up in strong impene- 
 trability and stoically wait till your damnation comes. 
 Thus it was in Sodom. But the word of the Lord 
 ' was not a lie. There is a real danger, an awful 
 danger to all who are living in sin. Do you dis- 
 believe it } So did the* Sodomites. Do you im- 
 agine that somehow or other you will be saved as 
 you are } So did the men of Sodom. Do you 
 think that God is too good to punish you t God is 
 the same being who overwhelmed Sodom in fiery 
 whirlwind of torment and destruction. The word 
 
232 Sermons. 
 
 of God is not a lie. Whatever He has declared, He 
 will perform. He has said, '' The wages of sin is 
 death." He has taken the overthrow of Sodom as 
 the emblem of that death eternal. It is the emblem 
 of horror, of anguish, of desolation. God's word is 
 not a lie. Just as surely as the wrath of God came 
 down on Sodom, just so surely will it burst upon 
 the sinner. If ever you have any doubt as to the 
 reality and intensity of your spiritual danger, re- 
 member Lot's wife. 
 
 Another point in the parallel is, that every sin- 
 ner in this congregation has received full warning 
 of the danger. When the rocks have crushed down 
 upon the railroad track, making one train a wreck 
 and the brakeman runs back with the waving flag 
 of danger, what shall be thought of the engineer 
 who keeps his locomotive running at the same high 
 rate of speed } If the engineer is crushed in 
 pieces, can the awful responsibility fall upon any 
 other then his own head t He was notified of his 
 danger, and heeded not the warning. So the men 
 of Sodom were notified by the ministry of angels. 
 So was the wife of Lot warned, over and over again, 
 of the imminency of the danger, and urged to fly 
 for her life away from the swiftly sweeping storm cf 
 fire. So the sinner is warned with a thousand 
 remonstrances which the Sodomites did not hear. 
 He is warned by the word of God. He is warned 
 
The Danger of L ooking Back. 233 
 
 by the death of Christ. He is warned by the voice 
 of- God within him, warned by ministers and teach- 
 ers, warned by providences such in their nature as 
 that which smote the men of Sodom with bhndness, 
 warned by the entreaties of a pious husband, a 
 father, a mother or a wife, warned I doubt not by 
 holy angels, warned by the very example before us 
 of the inevitable fate of the disobedient, warned by 
 lapsing seasons and dying kindred and gracious re- 
 vivals, warned by weakened compunctions and 
 broken resolutions and petrified tears, warning upon 
 warning in the crash and in the silence, as if a 
 thousand bells were pealing in the air. Oh, I warn 
 you, warn you now of the sinner's inevitable doom I 
 With the very warning of the angel to Lot's wife, 
 I cry out, Escape for thy life. Look not behind 
 thee, neither stay thou in all the plain. Escape to 
 Mount Calvary, lest thou be consumed. 
 
 And have you heard the warning and begun to 
 flee for refuge t Remember that Lot's wife began to 
 flee and was almost saved. Here is an additional, 
 and most special warning to many of you, for many 
 of you are on the very verge of the kingdom. 
 Many of you may say with truth, " Almost thou 
 persuadest me to be a Christian." Many of you 
 are so well instructed in Christian doctrine, many 
 of you are so well imbued with Christian training, 
 many of you have such a respect for religion, many 
 
234 Sermons. 
 
 of you give such external indications of a Christian 
 nfe and character, many of you have even recently 
 formed such good resolutions to flee from the wrath 
 to come, that I may say of you with thankfulness 
 and truthfulness, tJiese are almost saved. Almost 
 saved ! And yet you may perish right where you 
 are. Remember Lot's wife. And if you perish now, 
 what have you gained by all your knowledge and 
 your conviction of sin, your longing for Christ, 
 your praying, your weeping, your escaping thus far 
 toward the mountain ? You are lost if you stop 
 where you are, and lost with additional aggra- 
 vations. Lost on the very line between heaven and 
 hell. Lost on the margin of the very stream of 
 life, when another bound would bear you out of 
 danger. Lost, when after a weary pilgrimage, you 
 just catch the gleam of salvation, and the door of 
 mercy is shut in your very face. Destroyed not in 
 the dwellings of Sodom, yet saved not on the moun- 
 tain of Zoar. Lost in the very crisis of deliverance. 
 Lost in the very pause of escape. O sinner ! haste 
 thee then, haste thee I Remember Lot's wife. 
 Linger not, falter not. Look not back for an in- 
 stant on the treasures and pleasures of the world. 
 Look not back on the living nor on the dead. Stay 
 not for an instant till you have laid hold of the hope 
 of Jesus, and can cry out from the top of the 
 mountain, " Glory to God, I'm saved, I'm saved I" 
 
THE 
 
 BROADNESS OF THE BIBLE 
 
THE BROADNESS OF THE BIBLE. 
 
 "Thy commandment is exceeding broad." 
 
 Psalm cxlx. 96. 
 
 The whole of the 119th Psalm is a majestic 
 ode which celebrates in every verse the match- 
 less praises of the Word of God. What the 
 Dresden Virgin is among the miracles of art, 
 what Orion is among the constellations of the 
 firmament, what the Bible itself is among all other 
 books, such is this peerless Psalm in comparison 
 with all that has been uttered by man, inspired 
 or uninspired, in honor of the Scriptures. The 
 theme is worthy of the royal poet, and the poet is 
 equal to his transcendent theme. 
 
 When we read the most beautiful poem of 
 modern times, in which the sad Laureate of 
 England culls all the flowers of love and genius 
 to strew them on the bier of Hallam, we are sur- 
 prised at first at the long-continued flow of the 
 many-versed monody. But we soon perceive that 
 so full was the poet's heart and so multiform were 
 the charms which clustered around the memory of 
 
240 SermojtS. 
 
 his beloved friend, that no smaller compass could 
 contain the wealth of honor and affection which 
 he was yearning to express. He could not abridge 
 the "In Memoriam" by a single verse, for every 
 verse contained some special touch of the "van- 
 ished hand," some separate tone of the "voice 
 which was still." 
 
 And such is David's apprehension of the mani- 
 fold excellence of God in His Word as, seven 
 times a day, he meditates upon it, as he views it 
 in its thousand relations to human experience, and 
 beholds it like the neck of the dove changing into 
 new splendors at every glance of the sunbeam, 
 that he can satisfy the fullness of his reverential 
 love only by a long succession of praises which 
 roll onward like the march of heaven with all its 
 stars. Now he discerns it as the law of God, now 
 as His way, now as His testimonies, now as His 
 commandments, now as His precepts, now as His 
 judgments, now as His righteousness, now as His 
 statutes, now as His truth and faithfulness. Then, 
 turning to the human side, he views it in its effects 
 upon the soul, and describes it in its blessedness, 
 its purity, its enlightenment. He sees it in all 
 its adaptation to the varying phases of Christian 
 experience. It is the chosen delight of the pros- 
 perous. It is the solace of the sorrowful. It is 
 the guide of the young man. It is the support of 
 
The Broadness of the Bible. 241 
 
 old age. In one verse it is fine gold. In another 
 it is a song. In another it is honey. In another 
 it is a lamp. In another it is a shield. In another 
 it is a sun. In another it is a great spoil. No 
 wonder then that David requires a harp of many 
 strings on which to sound such many-sided glories. 
 No wonder that the exuberance of his emotions 
 demands for its channel the longest chapter of the 
 Bible. 
 
 Many times before, in other Psalms, David 
 has given some partial exoression to his love of 
 God's law. Over and over again he breaks forth 
 in joyful acknowledgments, spontaneous as the 
 " silver iterances " of lovers. But now he ascends 
 the throne with his singing robes around him, 
 to compact in one full and perfect utterance all 
 the fruition of his reverence and devotion. This 
 exalted purpose is seen in the very construction 
 of the Psalm. It consists of twenty-two portions, 
 and, in the original, each stanza of every division 
 begins with the same letter of the Hebrew 
 alphabet. The poet seems to have set himself 
 " to search his native language o'er and o'er" for 
 some method which should best extort all its 
 treasures for his glorious theme. And so he 
 takes the alphabet itself, and marshals it in 
 order, and makes every letter from beginning to 
 end bear its manifold tribute of hallelujahs to 
 
242 Sermons. 
 
 the holy law of God, Aleph must come with its 
 song. Beth must follow with new praises. Gimel 
 must bring its golden present. Daleth must bow 
 down its head in adoration. Little Vau must not 
 omit its vowels of thanksgiving. And thus the 
 Psalmist summons every jot and tittle of the 
 language, with all its gutturals, palatals, Unguals, 
 and labials, to bear their testimony to the truth of 
 which they are the symbols ; and ends at last with 
 stately Tau in supplication and benediction. 
 
 The comprehensiveness of the Bible, which is 
 thus suggested in the very length and structure 
 of the Psalm, is expressly stated in the particular 
 verse which is our text, " Thy commandment is 
 exceeding broad." 
 
 Standing as we do to-day, three thousand years 
 beyond the point of David's vision ; possessing 
 now not a fragment of the Old Testament but the 
 completed canon of revelation, the glorious gospel 
 of our blessed Saviour ; mindful of its adaptation to 
 all the successive changes of human history and to 
 all the hungerings and thirstings of the individual 
 man, and celebrating even now, in this jubilee,* all 
 its wondrous triumphs in fifty years of special 
 progress among all the races of the earth, what 
 
 * This sermon was preached at an anniversary meeting, and the 
 reference is to the completion of a half century of the work of the 
 Hudson County Bible Society. 
 
The Broadness of the Bible. 243 
 
 better subject can engage our thought than this 
 which the Psahnist presents to us, The Broadness 
 of the Bible. 
 
 First. The Bible is exceeding broad in its 
 
 adaptations to the human intellect. It would 
 
 seem at first sight that a book which is so 
 
 largely occupied with the fortunes of a single 
 
 people, inhabiting a narrow strip of territory, 
 
 would fail in universal interest. It is a striking 
 
 proof of the inferiority of the sacred writings of 
 
 the Mahometan and the Hindoo that they are 
 
 adapted only to their own latitude. The Koran 
 
 has no power except among the nations of the 
 
 desert. The Shaster loses its mystic charm 
 
 beyond the limits of Hindostan. So with the 
 
 ancient oracles. They were local, and their 
 
 influence was restricted to a neighboring tribe or 
 
 land. The Bible addresses itself to the universal 
 
 mind of man. It is not like the Koran, the 
 
 outgrowth of a single mind, and therefore narrow 
 
 and monotonous. It is the production of no less 
 
 than forty inspired writers of every taste and 
 
 idiosyncrasy. It was written not at any one era, 
 
 i\ugustan or Elizabethan, but in all stages of human 
 
 development during a period of two thousand years. 
 
 It is not confined to any one style of composition. 
 
 It was penned not only at "sundry times" but 
 
 " in divers manners," and includes every variety of 
 
244 Sermons. 
 
 topic, thought, and language, which can interest 
 and influence mankind. 
 
 The history of the Bible affords us a striking 
 illustration. It is the history of the world. Like 
 the affable Archangel who communed with Adam, 
 it leads us back to the gray twilight of earth's first 
 morning, and shows us the origin of all things. It 
 reveals the creation of the world from chaos. It 
 treats of the father and mother from whom the 
 whole race has descended, and of Eden, their 
 cradle and ancestral home. It traces the genesis 
 of language, the institution of marriage, the fall, 
 the flood, the dispersion, and those great seminal 
 events which belong to universal history, and which 
 are still preserved in distorted remembrance among 
 the traditions of all nations, classic and barbarian. 
 
 And when we descend to the special account of 
 the Jewish people, even here we have not simply 
 the story of the Jews, for God so ordered it in His 
 providence that the Hebrew tree struck out its 
 roots and branches far and wide, and had vital 
 connection with every one of the great nations of 
 antiquity. This is indicated in their very position 
 upon the map of the world. They stood midway 
 between the east and the west. The great sea 
 opened for them the gates of sunset, and through 
 their northern frontier lay the track of the caravan 
 to all the lands of the morning. The fertility 
 
The Broad^iess of the Bible. 245 
 
 of Egypt and the treasures of the Mesopotamian 
 dynasties could find an exchange only by passing 
 through their territory. To use a modern phrase, 
 Palestine possessed the carrying trade of the world. 
 Their history corresponded with their cosmo- 
 politan position. For a period twice as long as the 
 duration of American slavery, they were bondmen 
 in the land of Egypt, and in the book of Genesis 
 we gain the first authentic glimpses of the great 
 mother of empires. To the Phoenicians, whose 
 galleys carried the germs of Grecian civilization, 
 they stood in the relation of the Normans to our 
 own Saxon forefathers. They traded and fought 
 with the countless tribes of Arabia. They were 
 for a time a satrapy of the great Assyrian empire, 
 whose marble bones still lie buried beneath the 
 mounds of the Tigris. For seventy years of sad 
 captivity their existence was merged into that of 
 the Babylonian monarchy. They emerge once 
 more as an independent nationality under the 
 auspices of Cyrus and Darius — names resplendent 
 on the scroll of profane no less than of sacred 
 history. Their fortunes are linked with the 
 world-renowned conquests of Alexander the Great. 
 Their decline and fall is a portion of the life of the 
 Roman empire, chronicled by Tacitus and inscribed 
 to this day upon the triumphal arch of Titus in the 
 heart of the eternal city. Thus the history of the 
 
246 Set'mans. 
 
 Bible is, to a great extent, the history of the human 
 race during the progress of four thousand years. 
 Of those earliest times, which otherwise were 
 shrouded only in wild legends and dim traditions, 
 the Bible gives us authentic information. In the 
 subsequent annals it is of the highest value for 
 illustration and confirmation. It is the Rosetta 
 stone which unlocks all the hieroglyphics of 
 ancient fable. And thus by its age, by its truth, 
 and by its universal range of vision, the Bible 
 commends itself to all who, in any land or age, 
 are interested in the rise and progress of the 
 human race. 
 
 The same comprehensiveness is characteristic 
 of the poetry of the Bible. We might well imagine 
 that an eastern flower would be an exotic in other 
 lands, and that if transplanted it would lose its 
 beauty in an uncongenial clime. Lalla Rookh 
 would have no meaning in Greenland, and Whit- 
 tier's sweet idyl of the Snow-bound would need a 
 double interpretation in the burning deserts of 
 Arabia. But Grod so ordered it, that the land which 
 was the mold of the poetic imagery of the Bible 
 should include, within its narrow compass, all the 
 diverse phenomena of the natural world. The cli- 
 mate and scenery of Palestine are cosmopolitan, 
 and in this respect it is different from every other ^ 
 country of the globe. Egypt has no rains, Meso- 
 
The Broadness of the Bible. 247 
 
 potamia has no mountains, Arabia has no rivers, 
 Persia is parched by continual heat, Scythia is 
 frozen with excessive cold. But when we glance 
 upon the map, we see the Holy Land as Moses 
 beheld it from the top of Pisgah, a land of lake's 
 and streams, of hills and vales and mountains. 
 There are Tabor and Hermon, Gilead and Carmel ; 
 Lebanon, with his shaggy garment of cedars and his 
 eternal crown of snow. There are Merom and Ti- 
 berius and the Dead Sea. There are the Arnon and 
 Jabbok, the swift rushing Kishon, and Jordan rolling 
 to its mysterious grave. There are the maritime 
 plain and the great plain of Esdraelon. There is 
 beyond these the great and wide sea, with its 
 ships and islands, its monsters, its creeping things 
 innumerable and the roar of its stormy waves. 
 
 Owing to this great variety of level and configu- 
 ration, Palestine had every variety of climate. Ii 
 the sun broke fiercely upon the husbandman at 
 midday, the night brought the refreshing cold. It 
 at times the land was hard with drought, it had the 
 early and the latter rain. The people were familiar 
 with the meteorology of all the zones. They had 
 snow and frost, dew and ice, fogs and thunder and 
 lightning. Hence the imagery of the sacred poets 
 appeals to the imagination of the western nations 
 no less than to those of the east. And hence amid 
 the mists of the Highlands, the mountains of 
 
248 Sermons. 
 
 Switzerland, the streams of New England and on 
 the prairies of the Mississippi : wherever the voice 
 of the Lord thunders marvelously, wherever the 
 hoar-frost Hes Hke ashes or the ice is cast forth like 
 morsels, wherever there is fire and hail, snow and 
 vapor and stormy wind fulfilling his word, there the 
 poetry of the Bible speaks in the vernacular of the 
 magination and clothes our " palpable and familiar 
 things in golden exhalations of the dawn." 
 
 We might pause here to speak of another pecul- 
 iarity of the Hebrew poetry which distinguishes it 
 from that of all other nations. The poetry of the 
 sacred writers does not depend for its beauty upon 
 meter or rhyme which cannot be reproduced, but 
 upon the thought itself; upon an antithesis or a vari- 
 ation of the original idea, in what is called di paral- 
 lelism, which can be translated into English or 
 French or Arabic or any other language of man- 
 kind without diminution of its original charm or 
 force. It is not so with any other book. But, 
 merely glancing at this, we must pass on to speak 
 of the science of the Bible. This too is popular 
 and universal in its adaptations. 
 
 If the Bible had been intended only for the pre- 
 sent generation '*when the thoughts of men are 
 widened by the process of the suns," if it had been 
 designed only for our own country where, in an 
 especial manner, '' men run to and fro and know- 
 
The Broadness of the Bible. 1\C) 
 
 ledge is increased," the language of the Bible might 
 have been as strictly scientific as Miller or Mitchell 
 could desire. The Mosaic record of creation mighs 
 have been like the chart of the geologist, minutely 
 describing all the oscillations and cataclysms of the 
 primeval ages. We should have had the regular 
 development of Protozoic, Mesozoic and Cenozoic 
 life. We should have had pictures of the gigantic 
 ferns of the carboniferous flora, and of the wierd 
 shapes of Saurian and Batrachian monsters which, 
 flying, shadowed the air ; or, swimming, tempested 
 the billows of the Preadamic deep. 
 
 If the Bible had been intended only for the age 
 of the telescope and the transit instrument, we 
 should have had, instead of popular description and 
 scattered allusion, a complete astronomic system. 
 We might have had as illustrations of the wondrous 
 majesty of Jehovah, the doctrine of gravitation, the 
 periodicity of comets, the precession of the equi- 
 noxes, the velocity of light. But the Bible is the 
 book not of a single generation, but of all time. It 
 must be adapted to infancy and rudeness as well as 
 to refinement and illumination. It must be adapted 
 to ages of ignorance and darkness, ere yet man hat 
 learned to climb to the abstractions of science and 
 the generalizations of philosophy. If all the truths 
 of modern discovery had been incorporated into the 
 early scriptures before the world was ready for their 
 
250 SermoHS. 
 
 reception, all those first generations woiild have 
 regarded such a revelation as a falsehood and a 
 fable. They would have rejected them with the 
 same incredulity we give to heathen systems ot 
 cosmogony which set the earth on the back of a 
 tortoise, or develope the universe from the ^gg 
 of a bird. Therefore, while there is no self-con- 
 tradiction in the work of God, whether in His 
 word or in His world ; while His scripture in- 
 spires the prayer of Kepler and smiles on Galileo 
 in his dungeon, or allures the feet of Mitchell 
 on his majestic errand through the stars, it still 
 uses that familiar and popular language which 
 is current in all lands and ages, just such as 
 astronomers themselves use in ordinary speech ; 
 and this simply because the broad word of God 
 is not meant expressly for esoteric coteries and 
 scientific associations, but for all men, in all stages 
 of mental illumination, from the beginning of time 
 to the end of it. 
 
 But we pass from these general considerations, 
 to speak of the adaptation of the Bible to every 
 individual taste and capacity. Plants have their 
 special habitat. Animals are confined to single 
 zones. Man only is cosmopolitan. His relish for 
 food varies with his situation. Here he lives on 
 rice, here in the tropics upon fruit, and here in the 
 arctic regions upon oil. In temperate zones he 
 
The Broadness of the Bible. 2<^\ 
 
 enjoys all diversities of diet. There is a similar 
 variety in taste and capacity for intellectual food. 
 Between the child, just learning to spell the nursery 
 tale, and the myriad-minded Shakespeare, touching 
 life at every point as if he were a thousand men, 
 what a vast gamut of diversities } They are innu- 
 merable as the expressions of the human counte- 
 nance. How great the problem to find one book 
 which shall satisfy them all ! But the Bible solves 
 the problem. Do you delight in history } We have 
 seen that the Bible is the authentic record of the 
 human race. Do you turn from the generaliza- 
 tion of the historian, and love the study of character 
 and the portraiture of individual men } The Bible 
 is a great gallery in which we see every type of 
 manhood and every shade of expression, painted as 
 they are, in every variety of human experience. Do 
 you ponder the problem of natural religion ! In 
 the book of Job you can find every question dis- 
 cussed and answered. Do you prefer the intrica- 
 cies of metaphysics t In the argumentation of 
 Paul you will find enough to tax your inmost 
 thought. Are you charmed with simple narrative } 
 There is the sweet story of Joseph incorporated 
 into the earliest remembrances,^^nd !6vS'dij»|iigre- 
 ever there are children's voices throughout the 
 world. Are you endowed with an appreciation of 
 the humorous t There is the grotesque story of 
 
252 Sermon^. 
 
 the Gibeonites with their mouldy bread and clouted 
 shoes ; the jovial pranks and riddles of the giant 
 Sampson ; and the half-shaved ambassadors tarry- 
 ing at Jericho for the growth of their beards. 
 Would you travel in the company of the immortal 
 dreamer of Elstow ? There is the apologue of the 
 bramble and the trees, the earliest of fables. There 
 is the wonderful parable of the traveler and the ewe 
 lamb. There is the good Samaritan and the Prod- 
 igal son, and all the masterpieces of our Lord. 
 Do you feel the spell of eloquence .■* Read Paul's 
 defence before King Agrippa. Do you ask for the 
 sententious and the practical } There are the prov- 
 erbs of Solomon, which, like coins of gold, are 
 current among all men as the compactest utterances 
 of wisdom. Do you seek for the expression of the 
 exalted and the beautiful in nature and in the 
 human heart } There is more poetry in the Bible 
 than in all other books. Where is there a drama 
 like the book of Job .? or an elegiac like the Lam- 
 e^ntations } or a pastoral like the book of Ruth .? 
 or lyrics like the Song of Moses and the Psalms 01 
 David .? or any epic comparable in grandeur with 
 the consummation of the Apocalypse .? If we do 
 not always have the form, we have the very elements 
 of poetry. The Bible is the great storehouse from 
 which Dante and Milton, with their train, have 
 drawn their sublimest inspirations. It is one of 
 
The Broadness of the Bible. 253 
 
 the four books which stood upon the table of Byron. 
 Its descriptions of the heavenly world Burns could 
 never read without a burst of tears. 
 
 Take then the whole gauge of the human mind, 
 from the first development of childhood to man- 
 hood's serenest wisdom ; take every gradation of 
 intellect from the untutored savage to the almost 
 inspired genius of Newton ; take every phase of 
 civilization, ancient and modern, oriental and occi- 
 dental ; take the whole boundless range of human 
 character with all its sympathies, susceptibilities, 
 and idiosyncracies, in all tribes and tongues ; and 
 the Bible has a charm for all. Just as God set His 
 sun in the heavens to march in bridal glory through 
 the whole circuit of the firmament, dispensing life 
 to every creature small and great, on land and in 
 sea, through all longitudes and zones, from pole to 
 pole, so has He adapted His Bible to all the intel- 
 lectual wants of every son of Adam. There is 
 no speech nor language where its voice is not heard. 
 Its line has gone out into all the earth, and its 
 words to the end of the world. 
 
 Second. The Bible is exceeding broad in its 
 adaptations to man's social nature. 
 
 The emblem of mankind is not the palm with its 
 single spire of green, but the banyan with its inter- 
 twining roots and trunks and branches. The law 
 of man's creation necessitates society, and society 
 
254 Sermons. 
 
 involves law. This is the universal bond of cohe^ 
 sion in heaven and earth. And this the Bible recog- 
 nizes. The Bible is not simply a history, or a proph- 
 ecy, or a revelation of love. It is a law to govern 
 human action. It is God's commandment ^ which the 
 Psalmist declares to be exceeding broad. In the 
 Mosaic code there is much which is transient and in- 
 cidental, and which was so regarded by the lawgiver. 
 But the Decalogue was given with wondrous displays 
 of the Divine Majesty, and engraven upon the living 
 rock in token of its perpetual and universal obliga- 
 tion. Always and everywhere it is wrong to mur- 
 der. Always and everywhere it is wrong to steal. 
 Always and everywhere it is wrong to violate the 
 marriage vow. These commandments are the gran- 
 itic basis on which every temple of justice must be 
 erected. Accordingly we find that the English law, 
 including our own, which is the noblest growth of 
 civilization and best adapted to secure the rights of 
 the citizen in all the present and prospective com- 
 plications of social interests, is recognized by all 
 the judicial authorities as the gradual and normal 
 evolution of the decalogue with its Christian inter- 
 pretation. The Bible stands to all the codes of the 
 world in the relation of our own constitution to the 
 laws of the individual states. They have their 
 special and local enactments, but all must harmonize 
 with the fundamental principles contained in the 
 organic law of the one and indivisible nation. 
 
*lhe Broadness of the Bible. 255 
 
 But back of law there must be a natural charac- 
 ter. There must be intelligence to discern the 
 deflection of law in the interest of ambition and 
 selfishness. There must be righteousness to keep 
 the law itself right. We cannot stop here to show 
 how the Bible secures the education of the people. 
 This is indicated in what has been said of its intel- 
 lectual adaptations. The fact is clear that in lands 
 destitute of the Bible the inhabitants are proverb- 
 ially ignorant and degraded ; and that where the 
 Bible is most read and prized, as in England and 
 America, we find the highest type of national pros- 
 perity. Whether we contrast ancient times with 
 modern, heathen nations with Christian, or Catholic 
 districts with Protestanr, we find everywhere the 
 verification of the words of the Psalmist, "The 
 entrance of thy words giveth light." 
 
 But the fate of an enlightened nation will depend 
 upon the right uses of its knowledge.. A bad nation 
 is a weak and miserable nation, just as a bad man, 
 however gifted, is a weak and miserable man. 
 Therefore it is that the Bible enunciates as the 
 great charter of national life, the elemental necessity 
 of righteousness. To one and all of the kingdoms 
 it exclaims, " Be ye holy and live ; be ye iniquitous 
 and die." And this not merely in the general. We 
 have in the history of the Jews a chart of every 
 reef and shoal upon which a nation can founder. 
 
256 Sermons. ' 
 
 The great sin of our country has been the 
 oppression of our brethren by the institution ot 
 slavery. Ths Bible thunders and lightens against 
 oppression. We are in danger of persisting in that 
 spirit of caste which is essentially heathen, and 
 opposed to all homogeneous and organic life. The 
 Bible declares the equal sacredness of every man 
 whom God has created. It sums up in a single line 
 the whole philosophy of reconstruction, " Love thy 
 neighbor as thyself." One besetting sin is the 
 intense eagerness for the rapid accumulation of 
 wealth. The Bible utters its solemn warning 
 against covetousness. Of the speculator it says, 
 "Cursed be he that withholdeth the corn." Of the 
 corrupt legislator, it says: "He that receiveth 
 bribes overthroweth the land." Of all the various 
 forms of national trangression — pride, luxury, in- 
 temperance, profanity and Sabbath desecration, 
 which as surely ruin a nation as the rot ruins a 
 ship, the Bible shows us the danger and the remedy. 
 These truths are as applicable to us as they were to 
 Babylon and Jerusalem. They are as applicable to 
 China and Turkey as they are to us. When the 
 African prince, who had heard the fame of England, 
 sent to the queen to learn the secret of her great- 
 ness, she sent him back a copy of the English 
 Bible. When the Italians were heaving in political 
 convulsion like the fabled giant beneath their 
 
The Broadness of the Bible. 257 
 
 ancient mountain, Garibaldi declared that the Bible 
 was the cannon which was to liberate Italy. It 
 matters not what may be the form of goverment, 
 the stage of improvement, the genius of the people, 
 or the crisis of their history, the Bible is their 
 constitution and contains the secret of their national 
 existence. 
 
 When our civil war broke out, we were astonished 
 at the new meaning which broke forth from the 
 sacred text. We read the record of Joshua and of 
 the warriors who fought after him, as if it had been 
 a chronicle of our own times. As we followed the 
 story of its battles and sieges, its reverses and 
 deliverances, we thought we never had read the 
 Bible before. The imprecatory Psalms in which 
 David prays for the destruction of his enemies, and 
 which once seemed the unworthy expression of an 
 obsolete revenge, became the mouth-piece of our 
 own devotion. We read as we looked southward and 
 said, " Let God arise and let his enemies be scat- 
 tered." Even in all the minutiae of the struggle, the 
 Bible seemed to keep pace with us, and present us 
 with a text appropriate for every emergency. 
 When South Carolina seceded we read, " Rebellion 
 is as the sin of witchcraft." When the rebellion 
 was organized we read, " Say ye not a confederacy 
 to all those to whom this people shall say a con- 
 federacy, neither fear ye their fear nor be afraid." 
 
25 B Sermons. 
 
 When the people rose as one man, at the cannon 
 burst of Sumter, to defend the capital and die for 
 their native land, we read with exultation, " Praise 
 ye the Lord for the avenging of Israel in the day 
 when the people willingly offered themselves." 
 When the hour of distress and darkness came, we 
 read with Luther the forty-sixth Psalm. When on 
 our national anniversary the tidings came of a 
 double mercy by the capture of the stronghold of 
 Vicksburg and the crowning victory at Gettysburg, 
 we cried out, "For by Thee I have run through a 
 troop, and by my God have I leaped over a wall." 
 When the Christian Commission sent down its 
 delegates to the soldiers with a thanksgiving din- 
 ner, we turned to the place where David goes down 
 to the camp with a present of parched corn and 
 cheeses for his brethren. When the good President 
 issued the Emancipation Proclamation, we heard 
 the divine voice saying, "Proclaim liberty through- 
 out all the land to all the inhabitants thereof" 
 When the slaves gained their freedom, they sang, 
 in a rude version, the old chant of the Israelites 
 when they were delivered from their oppressors at 
 the Red Sea. And when at last, just as the fruition 
 was near, the good President was taken away 
 from us by the hand of the assassin, in scores of 
 pulpits the preacher turned with tearful eyes to the 
 narrative of the death of Moses, on the top of 
 Pisgah, within sight of the Promised Land. 
 
The Broadness of the Bible. 259 
 
 A book, then, which is so multiform, so ready, so 
 fresh, so apt, so vivid in all its illustrations and 
 adaptations, is not for one nation but. for all nations. 
 It is not for one time but for all time. It is not 
 effete. It never can grow old. It is a tree of life 
 whose seed is in itself It is a royal gem emitting 
 new splendors at every glance of light. It is a 
 great river, deepening and broadening in majesty 
 as it rolls along the centuries. Like tears and 
 laughter, its voice is understood in every age and 
 clime. Its neck is as the tower of David, builded 
 for an armory, whereon there hang a thousand 
 bucklers, all shields of mighty men. 
 
 Third. We observe in the third place that the 
 Bible is exceedingly broad in its adaptation to 
 man's spiritual nature. 
 
 The heathen idea of religion recognizes only a se- 
 lect, esoteric circle, who are privileged with initiation 
 into its mysteries. This is the Romanist idea of 
 saintship. The Bible idea is that of the salvable- 
 ness of all men and the sanctity of the entire congre- 
 gation. This is the conception of the Old Testament 
 as well as of the New. Among the Hebrews there is 
 no limitation of caste ; as has been finely said, the 
 prophetic gift burst forth everywhere like the springs 
 of their native land. There is no limit of nation. 
 The Jews were the chosen people, but the Bible 
 reaches over into Idumea and Mesopotamia, and in- 
 
26o Sermons. 
 
 -troduces as the subjects of inspiration or the objects 
 of mercy, Job, Melchisedek, Balaam, Sardanapalus, 
 and the exceeding great city of Nineveh. There 
 is no limit of age — Abraham received his call as an 
 old man and Samuel as a child. There is no 
 restriction of sex. Women, in the spirit of Chris- 
 tianity, emerge from oriental seclusion and strike 
 the timbrels of salvation or sit at the feet of Jesus. 
 
 It is the glory of the Bible that it is thus adapted 
 to all spiritual characters and conditions. Just as 
 our American system of government is framed for 
 the benefit of all the people, so the Bible seeks all 
 men with its heavenly gifts. Sin is a universal 
 fact. Salvation is a universal necessity. Therefore 
 the Bible plies those motives which are of universal 
 potency. The three great levers which move the 
 spiritual world are fear, hope, and love. 
 
 The great principle which holds society together 
 is fear and penalty. Take away this restraint and 
 you have riot and anarchy. So the Bible holds up 
 God's moral law and warns men of the fearful con- 
 sequences of its violation, "tribulation and anguish 
 upon every soul of man that doeth evil." It pre- 
 sents countless examples of actual punishment. It 
 scares us with the tempestuous horrors of the 
 deluge. It flares its beacon from the smoking cities 
 of the plain. It makes the awful destruction of the 
 sacred city a type of the final judgment.^ It appeals 
 
The Broadness of the Bible. 261 
 
 to men by the terrors of God, by the dread sum- 
 mons of the archangel, and by the pangs of hell, 
 to escape the swift pursuit of retribution and seek 
 salvation in Jesus. Even those who deny the truth 
 of the Scripture doctrines, admit their adaptation 
 to the needs of the common people, and preach 
 them accordingly. 
 
 Hope comes in as an element not recognized by 
 human law. Hope is the angel who allures us on 
 through all toil and suffering to the promised goal. 
 It whispered to Milton of Paradise Lost, and to 
 Columbus of a world's discovery. It smiles on the 
 sick man and ministers his draught. It visits the 
 slave and cheers him with a promise of the year of 
 jubilee. It is the great impulse of the race, as it 
 climbs the Alps of progress and shouts excelsior 
 from height to height. While there is life there is 
 hope, and where there is hope there is life. 
 
 To this instinct the Bible makes its appeal 
 as does no other book. It holds out prizes 
 beyond all human attainment. It offers Heaven 
 and eternity to earth and time. For the home- 
 less there is a house not made with hands and 
 an inheritance incorruptible ; for the friendless 
 there is the ministry of angels and the sympathy 
 of Jesus ; for the penniless there are celestial 
 treasures of which gold and pearls are only em- 
 blems ; for the sick and dying there is a body 
 
262 Sermons. 
 
 like the immortal body of the ascended Saviour ; 
 for the bereaved there is eternal reunion with 
 the loved and lost ; for the ignorant there is 
 knowledge even as we are known of God ; for 
 the imperfect and sinful there is purity like the 
 great river of crystal ; for all that are in any 
 trouble there is the vision of the day when the 
 Lord God shall wipe away all tears from off all 
 faces. 
 
 But the deepest and most vital principle of 
 the soul is love. This exists wherever is repeated 
 the world's first kiss in Eden ; wherever the 
 voice of a little child is heard ; wherever in any 
 language the air is musical with the words 
 mother, wife, and home. For love, men will do 
 what they will not for fear or hope. Just as 
 the forests seal up all their seeds and the 
 flowers tighten their petals while winter is 
 boisterous, but open their treasures of life to 
 the blandishments of April and the dews of 
 May, so there is a quality in love which pierces 
 the envelopments even of rude and savage 
 natures. Love sits in holy watch beside the 
 cradle. It dares the storm and the battle. It 
 twines like the tendrils of summer around 
 dungeons and ruins. It ascends the scaffold 
 and the cross. 
 
 This most influential motive is used in its 
 
The Broadness of the Bible. 263 
 
 fullest efficiency only in the Bible. It points 
 us to the life and death of the incarnate Saviour 
 and exclaims '' Herein is love ! " The highest 
 possible proof of devotion is death for the loved 
 one ; and here is death, tragic death. The heroes 
 of love die only for kindred and friends. Here 
 is death for the men who wag their heads in 
 mockery at the dying One ; death for those who 
 stab Him with their spear. Men die only for 
 men. But here the infinite and eternal God 
 empties Himself to die for His dust-made 
 creatures on a speck of His creation ; as if the 
 noblest of the race should stoop to mortal agony 
 for the sake of a bird or a worm. 
 
 Therefore, it is in this stupendous truth of 
 the vicarious sacrifice of Him whose name is 
 Love, that we find the attractive power which 
 constrains all men and nations to assume the 
 cross. Therefore it is that the untutored heathen 
 cries out to the missionary who lands upon his 
 shores, Give me the Bible I Give me the book 
 that says " God so loved the world." As Christ 
 Himself is not the son of Asia nor of Europe, 
 but the Son of Man, stretching out His arms 
 wide upon the cross to include all in whose 
 veins runs Adam's blood, so the Bible is the 
 Book of Man. Wherever man exists on land or 
 island, amid Greenland's icy mountains or on 
 
264 Sermons. 
 
 India's coral strand, there the Bible meets him 
 in the sanctuary of love and finds him with the 
 wondrous story of the cross. 
 
 But the Bible is adapted to man not only 
 as a sinner, but as a Christian seeking sancti- 
 fication though the Spirit. 
 
 The most popular and universal of unin- 
 spired books is the Pilgrim's Progress. But all 
 its power to charm and bless is borrowed from 
 the Bible. The characters of the Bible, though 
 not imaginary, are typical and representative 
 like those of the immortal allegory. They are 
 made up of good and evil. They are men of 
 like passions with ourselves. Therefore reading 
 their lives is, in some sense, like reading our 
 own biography. We behold there all the joys 
 and sorrows, doubts and fears, struggles and 
 triumphs of the Christian life. Therefore the 
 biographies of the Bible, the story of patient 
 Job and stainless Joseph, of faithful Abraham 
 and prayerful Elijah, of tempted David and 
 dauntless Daniel, and of all the worthies of the 
 New Testament, are an endless source of edi- 
 fication and of sanctification to the church. 
 
 The gospels themselves, containing, as they 
 do, the temptations, griefs, friendships, sorrows, 
 prayers and sacrifices of the all-perfect One, 
 have an adaptation to the soul as broad as the 
 salvation which He brings. 
 
The Broadness of the Bible. 265 
 
 A large portion of the New Testament is 
 occupied with letters. They are addressed to 
 the Christians of Rome, Corinth, and other 
 ancient cities. But not to them alone. It is 
 supposed that they were at first encyclical in 
 their character, designed to be read not only 
 by the individual church, to which each one 
 was addressed, but by the whole circle of 
 the neighboring churches. And not only 
 were they written for these, but the greeting 
 comes to all who call upon the name of the 
 Lord Jesus, both theirs and ours. What is true 
 of the New Testament is true also of the types 
 and shadows of the Old Testament. Some 
 Christians are of the opinion that little profit 
 is to be gained from such books as Leviticus, 
 and Numbers, and Deuteronomy. But, on the 
 contrary, there are no books which have a wider 
 signification. Here we find the gospel in its 
 germ, its outline. If I may so speak, the Pen- 
 tateuch is the negative of the photograph of 
 Christ. Take for example the law concerning 
 leprosy, as an exhibition of moral defilement. 
 Nothing can more impress the mind with the 
 loathsomeness and danger of sin ; and the mode 
 of cleansing by the blood and the oil, points 
 us directly to the atonement of Christ and 
 sanctification of the Spirit. In this way every 
 
266 Sermons. 
 
 holocaust and every offering, even to the handful 
 of meal and the two small pigeons, had an in- 
 timate and divine connection with all that is 
 most precious in the gospel. As has been 
 quaintly said, even the axe which Elisha caused 
 to swim is made of use by the Spirit to hew 
 out the cross of Calvary. 
 
 Whatever then may be the peculiar mood or 
 crisis of his experience, the Christian will find 
 in the sacred word all that is needful for reproof, 
 for exhortation, for correction, and for instruction 
 in righteousness. Is he sorrowful ? The book 
 of Job, the earliest of the scriptures, seems to 
 have been written at the beginning, that it 
 might be the solace of the afflicted in all gener- 
 ations of time. Is he despondent ? There is 
 the vision of God to Elijah in the wilderness. 
 Is he called to pass through persecution in the 
 kingdom and patience of Jesus t There is the 
 apocalypse with its golden crowns. Is he en- 
 gaged in signal service for the Master } There 
 are the glorious forms of the apostles beckoning 
 to him from the heights. Is he troubled because 
 his talent is so small ? There is the sweet as- 
 surance to Mary, going with the gospel round 
 and round the world. Is he in strenuous con- 
 flict with the fleshly man t There is the promise, 
 He will perfect that which concerneth thee. Is 
 
TJie Broadness of the Bible. 267 
 
 he exultant over the body of death vanquished 
 and slain ? There is the triumphal ascription, 
 Thanks be unto God which giveth us the victory 
 through our Lord Jesus Christ. 
 
 My friends, this is no empty declamation. The 
 truth of all this has been proven by the ex- 
 perience of ten thousand times ten thousand 
 Christians. If we could gather together all the 
 Bibles, the modern editions, and the manuscripts 
 which were the companions of saints before the 
 invention of printing, and see the passages which 
 they have illuminated with their tears, we should 
 have a conception of the adaptation of the re- 
 vealed word to the universal heart of the church, 
 which would flood every line with light. Here 
 is a precious exhortation which sustained the 
 hearts of Perpetua and Felecitas when they went 
 forth from the dungeon to the wild ox and the 
 gladiator's dagger. Here is a verse in Romans 
 which spoke peace to the mighty heart of Au- 
 gustine when weeping in the garden of Milan. 
 Here is a word of faith which broke like a new 
 revelation upon Luther as he was climbing the 
 sacred stairs at Rome upon his knees. Here 
 is the verse in Hebrews which unlocked all the 
 wards of Doubting Castle for the rejoicing feet 
 of Bunyan. Here is the passage in Revelation 
 which Perronet shewed in triumph by the grave 
 
268 Sermons. 
 
 of the last of his kindred. Here is the ex- 
 clamation of Jesus upon the cross which quenched 
 the thirst of Whitefield. Here is the doxology 
 in which Edwards for the first time " found 
 inward and sweet delight." And here are the 
 words which caught the restless eye of Hedley 
 Vicars on the table of the mess-room, and which 
 inspired him to become a good soldier in the 
 army of the cross. 
 
 But the time would fail me to tell even the 
 briefest portion of those scriptures, verses, and 
 whole chapters, which have been the comfort, 
 the strength, and the salvation of all the gener- 
 ations of the church. Are there not, in your 
 own remembrance, echoes of gracious words 
 which are sweeter than the tones of any earthly 
 love } Sacred sentences, which, like the sound 
 of the trumpet, summoned you to immortality ? 
 Chapters which were plethoric with the fullness 
 of God when you were yearning for the Spirit 
 of adoption } Promises that lingered in your ear 
 with a strain of heavenly consolation when they 
 were read by the solemn coffin bed of those 
 whom your eyes should never behold again on 
 earth "> Men said of Goethe, he was so immense 
 that, as every man could go out into the falling 
 rain and catch some drops of its boundlessness 
 in his hand, so every one, ol every calibre, could 
 
The Bfoadness of the Bible. 269 
 
 turn to his great genius, and appropriating some 
 special portion to his need, could each one say, 
 " This is my Goethe !" And even thus can every 
 child of God, whatever the size or nature of his 
 spiritual need, take his handful from the mighty 
 book and exclaim with tears of thanksgiving, 
 This is my Bible I 
 
 " Holy Bible, Book divine, 
 Precious treasure, thou art mine." 
 
 O this Bible is too wonderful for us I It is 
 high as heaven. It is wide as earth. It is deep 
 as the inmost need of man. It is vast as God. 
 It is the solace of time. It will be the study of 
 eternity. The time will come when the. coal of 
 England will be exhausted, when the golden ores 
 will be exhumed from the richest mines, when 
 Golconda will yield no more diamonds, and Oman 
 will sigh that she is despoiled of all her pearls. 
 But this Bible can never be impoverished. So 
 long as there are eyes that are tearful and 
 hearts that are sad ; so long as humanity thirsts 
 for all things blessed and beautiful ; so long as 
 ransomed sinners shall celebrate salvation, or 
 angels stoop to pierce the mystery of Christ's re- 
 deeming love, so long shall the Bible be the 
 inexhaustible treasury of knowledge, love and 
 praise. 
 
 Out of the many inferences deducible from the 
 
270 Sermons. - 
 
 wondrous universality of the Scriptures I shall 
 mention only two. The first is their divine 
 origin and authority. 
 
 This Bible, so exceeding broad in its adap- 
 tations to all the wants of the human soul in 
 all nations and generations, is not the work of 
 man. No one man can compass all men. Men 
 can write the Koran, the Veda and the book 
 of Mormon, for these are earthly, narrow and 
 puerile, and in league with human pride and 
 passion. But the Bible must come from Him 
 who made man himself, from Him who is cog- 
 nizant of his needs through all vicissitudes of 
 time, and is able to satisfy them out of His 
 own infinite fullness. 
 
 The final deduction is one of Christian duty. 
 Since this Bible is thus divinely adapted to all 
 races, nations, and individual components thereof, 
 upon us rests the responsibility to co-work with 
 the divine intention and supply it to every 
 member of the race. 
 
 This is the grand object of that society whose 
 jubilee we celebrate to-night. The noble men 
 who formed it, coming as they did from every 
 branch of the christian church, furnish in their 
 own action a striking illustration of the seamless 
 catholicity of the word of God. They said in 
 the beginning that ** local feelings, party predju- 
 
The Broadness of the Bible. 271 
 
 dices, sectarian jealousies, are excluded by its 
 very nature." Acting in this spirit, the society 
 has since that time issued more than eighteen 
 million copies of the sacred book. They have 
 sent them in a hundred languages to all the 
 centers of the earth. They have furnished mag- 
 nificent copies to all the reigning sovereigns 
 and chief magistrates. They have freely given 
 them to the poor. They have been especially 
 mindful of the needs of our own country with 
 its heterogeneous population. They have supplied 
 them by ten thousands to arm the soldiers in 
 the great war of freedom. 
 
 And now a voice comes from Arabia. It is a 
 hundred and forty million voices blended into 
 one. The cry is, give us the Bible. It is es- 
 timated that by the production of the single 
 press at Beirut, it would take six thousand years 
 to furnish every family which reads the Arabic. 
 Six thousand years ! But the Christian world, 
 if it should rise in a mighty inspiration, could 
 accomplish the work in a single year. Christ- 
 endom might contribute fifty millions of dollars, 
 and set all the printing presses of the sons of 
 Japheth to work with the sun by day and the 
 stars by night. We spent four thousand million 
 dollars ivell to save our country ; ought we not to 
 expend a tithe of this to help to redeem the world ? 
 
2/2 Setmons. 
 
 To this end the Bible is placed in our hands. 
 We are the Saxons and ours is the English 
 speaking race. To us belong the learning, the 
 commerce, the inventions, all the great forces 
 of civilization. We know the worth of the Bible 
 as the best hope of liberty and salvation, and 
 therefore we are responsible. By all the trophies 
 of the past and by all the prophecies of the 
 future, we are summoned to put forth every 
 energy. Print the Bible. Multiply it. Stereo- 
 type it. Electrotype it. Send it on the wings 
 of the wind, and by the untiring energies of 
 steam. Send it to Italy, and let Garabaldi's 
 cannon thunder. Send it to Spain, and snatch 
 her from the old red dragon. Send it to Ire- 
 land with the open secret of liberty. Send it 
 with the Arctic voyager along the icy coast of 
 Greenland, and with the African explorer to the 
 equatorial fountains of the Nile. Send it by 
 swift dromedaries to every tribe and tent of 
 Arabia. Send it up the dark streams of Hin- 
 dostan, and over the Himalayas, by millions, 
 into the immemorial idolatry of the land of 
 Sinim. Send it to the wandering Indian. Send 
 it to the emancipated slave. Send it to the 
 poor blind girl, that she may feel with her 
 sensitive finger the story of the cross. Send it 
 bedewed with tears of prayer and -sweat of sac- 
 
The Broadness of the Bible'. 273 
 
 rifice. Send it with full faith in its divine ef- 
 ficiency to exalt, illumine, and regenerate the 
 world. 
 
 And do thou, O God, who hast revealed unto 
 us thy will by the mouth of the holy prophets 
 and apostles, send forth thine angel with the 
 everlasting gospel, to proclaim it to every nation 
 and kindred and people and tongue, that all 
 men may fear God, and give glory to Him, and 
 worship Him that made heaven and earth, the 
 sea and the fountains of waters. Thine is the 
 Word. Thine is the work. And thine shall be 
 the glory as it was in the beginning, is now 
 and ever shall be, world without end. Amen! 
 
A PASTORAL LETTER 
 
 FROM 
 
 REV. JOHN MILTON HOLMES 
 TO HIS PEOPLE. 
 
LETTER. 
 
 Arcachon, France, 
 
 December 12, 1867. 
 
 My Dear BrotJiejs ajid Sisteis : 
 
 Never before, since I was called to be your Pastor, 
 have I been absent from you on the first Sunday of 
 the year. It has always been to me a hallowed in- 
 spiration, after the social festivities of the old year 
 had ended, to meet together in the sanctuary to re- 
 view the varied mercies of the past, to reflect how 
 these swiftly roUing seasons are bearing us onward 
 to the goal of our immortality, and then, touched 
 by the solemn grandeur of the occasion, to partake 
 with you the memorials of the broken body and the 
 shed blood which should bind our souls together, to 
 each other, and to Christ, and be the faithful pledge 
 that all things in that unknown year before us should 
 work together for our good. 
 
 And so this day, though absent in body, I am 
 present with you in spirit, sympathizing with you, 
 communing with you, worshiping with you, and I 
 give you from afar across the ocean a New Year's 
 greeting and benediction. 
 
278 Letter. 
 
 This affliction which has befallen us is no strange 
 thing under the sun, and the way of deliverance is 
 marked out in the word of God. So long ago as 
 the time of the Apostles we find Paul writing a letter 
 to the Church at Corinth to this effect : " For we 
 would not, brethren, have you ignorant of our trouble, 
 which came to us in Asia, that we were pressed out 
 of measure, above strength, insomuch that we de- 
 spaired even of life : but we had the sentence 
 of death in ourselves, that we should not trust in 
 ourselves, but in God which raiseth the dead : who 
 delivered us from so great a death, and doth de- 
 liver : in whom we trust that he will yet deliver us : 
 ye also helping together by prayer for us^ that for the 
 gift bestowed upon us by the means of many persons ^ 
 thanks may be given by many on our behalf!' 
 
 Here, then, the servant of God has trouble and 
 imminence of death, far from the Christian brethren 
 whom he has loved and taught, and he has also a 
 full deliverance. This deliverance comes from God, 
 yet God has many helping instruments. The whole 
 church of Corinth and all the saints in all Achaia, 
 from Stephanas the first fruits, down to the latest 
 born of the babes of Christ, were sustaining the 
 Apostle on their hearts, and insuring the happy 
 issue by their fervent and unceasing prayers. So 
 it was that the gift of life was bestowed upon him 
 by the means of many pei'sons. ' So it was that after- 
 wards thanks were given by many in his behalf. 
 
Letter. 2'jg 
 
 Brethren and Sisters : I believe that the blessing 
 of God will prosper your intercessions in my be- 
 half. I know that many are praying for me. / 
 have felt your praytrs. One Sunday evening in 
 Venice, on the 20th of June, I experienced in an 
 unwonted degree the powers of the world to come. 
 Sin was loathsome ; Christ was precious. Holy 
 aspirations were implanted in my soul. Was it only 
 a coincidence that at that moment, as I afterward 
 learned, the children and teachers of the Sabbath 
 School were engaged in united silent prayer that 
 God would be gracious to their absent pastor } 
 Was it not much rather the sweet fulfilment of the 
 sure promise of our Heavenly Father, that He will 
 hear the cry of His children and give good things 
 unto them that ask Him. 
 
 And, brethren, I pray for you. The daily long- 
 ing of my heart is that Christ in all his power to 
 justify and save, may be the impulse, joy, and 
 abounding strength of all your lives, that the church 
 may be built up solid on the foundations of love and 
 faith, and that by holy worship, and by holy char- 
 acter it may continually draw willing souls away 
 from sin to salvation. 
 
 God has hidden purposes which finite wisdom 
 cannot fathom. All that he means by this affliction, 
 which for the present seemeth grievous, may be be- 
 yond the scope of our interpretation. But is it not 
 
28o Letter. 
 
 evident, brethren, that by withdrawing the human 
 instrumentality on which you may have too implic- 
 itly depended. He would have you more clearly see 
 that with Him is the fullness of strength ; and 
 would have you cast yourselves in faith upon that 
 Divine Spirit whose energies are trammeled by no 
 failure or interruption in human plans, and whose 
 wondrous way it is to turn disappointment, and 
 loss, and weakness, into power, and life, and victory ? 
 And, furthermore, are you not called by the absence 
 of your pastor to labor with redoubled diligence in 
 the service of the Master ? It was the secret of 
 more than one success in our war of freedom that 
 when the officers were stricken down, the common 
 soldiers themselves, obedient then to intelligence, 
 valor, and a divine ardor for liberty, kept solid in 
 the ranks, and fought with such an intensity of 
 purpose that the riddled and shattered flag which 
 had been drooping, was swept onward to victory in 
 the thunder storm of their devotion. And now, 
 brethren, methinks that God, by His providence, is 
 summoning you, the private members of His church, 
 every man and woman, young or old, weak or strong, 
 to work yet more earnestly in the cause of Christ ; 
 to recognize every responsibility, to develope every 
 talent, to contribute every influence, to consecrate 
 every energy of thought and action, that the church 
 may move onward in its redeeming work, demolish* 
 
Letter. 281 
 
 ing wickedness and establishing holiness, "fair as 
 the moon, clear as the sun, and terrible as an army 
 with banners." Let every one that heareth thus rally 
 around the cross, and the heavens will open,. the 
 divine light will fall on every soul with a new bap- 
 tism of holy beauty ; and in the revelation of that 
 light, men will see and hate the hideousness of their 
 sins, and flock, as doves to the windows, to seek the 
 forgiving grace of the Redeemer. 
 
 To this end, brethren, " Let brotherly love con- 
 tinue." To accomplish the glorious result which 
 you have in view, unity is necessary, and unity can 
 spring only from the cohesive grace of love. Here 
 in my boarding-house at Arcachon, where French, 
 English, Irish, Dutch, Germans, and Americans are 
 brought together ; where each invalid wishes his 
 breakfast at a different hour, and each one wishes a 
 different dish for breakfast, I see an arrangement 
 very different from the order of a family whose 
 desires all fall together into time and tune, like 
 words and music in a sacred song. 
 
 But a Church is a holy family. Here is no place 
 for ambition, opposition or self-gratification. The 
 rule of the household is : " Bear ye one another's 
 burdens ;" "In honor preferring one another ;" " He 
 that would be greatest among you let him be your 
 servant." The duty is not simply, with a negative 
 charity, to refrain from any measure which shall ex- 
 
282 Letter. 
 
 cite dissension, but positively to do all that is pos- 
 sible to remove misunderstanding, to heal differ- 
 ences, to promote that genial flow of Christian 
 feehng, which shall make the full strength of the 
 Church available for every good word and work. 
 This is the realization of the noble idea of the 
 Apostle, in which the Church in all its members 
 acts together an one healthy body, compacted by 
 that which every joint supplieth, and obedient in 
 every movement to one all-pervading will. Such a 
 unity will demand the forgetfulness and denial of 
 self But is not sacrifice the law of the Chris- 
 tian life ? And is not such a sacrifice easily made 
 in view of the glorious results which are dependent 
 upon it ? 
 
 Brethren, you will forgive me if I have thus 
 stirred up your pure minds by way of remembrance. 
 I have no fears. You have worked together as you 
 have sung together — in the good congregational 
 way. To the patience of hope you have added the 
 labors of love, and God has blessed you according- 
 ly. Here then I pause, and merge all exhortation 
 into congratulation and affectionate acknowledge- 
 ment. 
 
 To me in my affliction, you have manifested a 
 sympathy so ample that the whole breadth of the 
 world could not hinder it. When I think of all 
 your tender solicitude and sacrifices, so far beyond 
 
Letter. 283 
 
 expectation or desert, I can only refer such a 
 wonderful blessing thankfully to that Heavenly 
 Father from whom cometh down every gift that is 
 perfect. 
 
 Ah ! Brethren, it is sweet thus to be remembered 
 when sick among strangers in a strange land. F'or 
 the soul, such encouragement is food and medicine 
 and vital air. I can only assure you that, near as 
 you were to me before, I now think of you with a 
 yearning which is inexpressible except by tears. 
 
 Once more I seem to myself to be among you in 
 the sanctuary, on the holy day. I occupy the pul- 
 pit in which some dear brother is now reading to 
 you my thoughts. Before me is the circle of the 
 congregation, reverent and attentive. At my left 
 is the patriarchal servant of God, beautiful to my 
 eyes with other crowns than the glory of old age. 
 At my right is a duskier face gleaming with a satis- 
 faction which earthly riches cannot buy. There is 
 the dearest pew of all, just down the aisle. There 
 are scattered the dear children (never too many of 
 them) trying to be good. There is a pew where 
 there is mourning for one who never shall sit with 
 them on earth again. And there is another, in 
 which there is rejoicing from a soul which has 
 caught, for the first time, a glimpse of the Heavenly 
 vision. From every place of prayer stretches to 
 the pulpit a mystic chord, quivering with inspi- 
 
284 Letter. 
 
 rations. And now once more the jubilant hymn 
 shakes the air. Once more with fear and trembling 
 I try to deliver my message. We bow our heads 
 in prayer together. The benediction falls, and the 
 old anxiety returns, lest some too earthly strain of 
 the organ shall profane the hush in which we seem 
 to hear the foot-falls of the angels. 
 
 Then I take up the plaint of the Psalmist, from 
 the land of his banishment : *' When I remember 
 these things, I pour out my soul in me : for I had 
 gone with the multitude, I went with them to the 
 house of God, with the voice of joy and praise, with 
 a multitude that kept holy day." 
 
 And then again, in thinking of all that God has 
 done for me, I can adopt the utterance of David's 
 faith, and exclaim with him from the same land of 
 banishment : " Why art thou cast down, O my soul, 
 and why art thou disquieted . within me .-* Hope 
 thou in God, for I shall yet praise him, who is the 
 health of my countenance and my God !" 
 
 Let us then, brethren, begin in faith together the 
 journey of the year. It is not ours to prophecy the 
 events which shall befall us. It is not ours to order 
 them. It remains only for us to consecrate our- 
 selves this day entirely to the Lord, to lean loving- 
 ly upon that bosom which was pierced for our sal- 
 vation, assured that He who has been with us in the 
 years that are past, will guide us and sustain us in 
 
Letter. 285 
 
 the year that is to come, and that He will, in a good 
 time coming, bring together pastor and people, to 
 offer thanks and praise together to the King eternal, 
 immortal, and invisible — the only wise God, to 
 whom be honor and glory for ever and ever. Amen. 
 
THE MOUNT OF VISION. 
 
THE MOUNT OF VISION. 
 
 " In the mount of the Lord it shall be seen." 
 
 Gen. XXII, 14. 
 
 The Jewish nation possessed two very striking 
 proverbs, which attested the reality of the special 
 interposition of God. One of these, which is not 
 found in the Scriptures, but is current in the 
 Rabbinical literature, has reference to the bondage 
 and deliverance in Egypt : " When the tale of 
 bricks is doubled, Moses comes." The other 
 crystallizes, in a single line, the thrilling story of 
 Abraham offering his son in sacrifice upon the 
 mountain. 
 
 The son stretched upon the altar, the uplifted 
 knife, the arrested hand, the two-fold cry of God 
 as if in haste, the lamb provided for the burnt 
 offering tangled in the thicket, the name which the 
 patriarch stamped upon the place, Jehovah-jireh — 
 all this was reproduced to the devout Israelite in 
 the saying which is our text, *' In the mount of the 
 Lord it shall be seen." 
 
 " And Abraham Hfted up his eyes and looked, 
 and behold, behind him a ram caught in the thicket 
 13 
 
290 Sermons. 
 
 by his horns ; and Abraham went and took the 
 ram, and offered him up for a burnt offering in the 
 stead of his son. And Abraham called the name 
 of that place Jehovah -jireh : as it is said to this 
 day, in the mount of the Lord it shall be seen." 
 
 The meaning of the saying obviously is, that in 
 the crisis of need, God will interpose. In the 
 darkest, latest hour, the Lord will manifest himself as 
 he did upon the sacred mountain. The best English 
 equivalent is found in the well-known apothegm, 
 *' Man's extremity is God's opportunity." Our pro- 
 verb contains essentially the same truth, and 
 nothing is wanting in its form; but it is more 
 abstract than the Jewish. Ours has no local 
 coloring, no individuality of feature, no memorable 
 fact of history for its informing soul. The other 
 lights up the top of Moriah with a flash of light- 
 ning, and shows us Isaac rising from the stony 
 altar, Abraham gazing upon the rustling thicket, 
 and the shining angel still hovering in the air. It 
 was a proverb of Jewish faith, but it is a proverb of 
 all faith. God will interpose as effectually now in 
 behalf of his people as in the beginning. If we 
 live by faith, Abraham is our spiritual ancestor and 
 exemplar. What God did for him he will do for 
 us. Let us then this morning ascend the Mount 
 of Vision, and in the circumstances and the sugges- 
 tions of that memorable scene, find the proof and 
 
The Mount of Vision. 291 
 
 the pledge that God will forever provide for his 
 people according to their need. 
 
 In the case of Abraham, the crowning inter- 
 position of the Almighty upon Moriah had been 
 preceded by many signal trials of faith, with their 
 corresponding deliverances. 
 
 The first great sorrow of the patriarch is typical 
 of the experience of the race. The voice of God 
 called out to him from heaven ; and the word was, 
 migration, removal, separation, the loss for ever of 
 the old home, the breaking up of old associations, 
 as the waves whirl the fragments of the stranded 
 ship. We are told that he was summoned to go 
 out " into a place which he should after receive for 
 an inheritance ; and he went out not knowing 
 whither he went." Where was he going t To a 
 place. What place t The place that God should 
 show him. 
 
 As the indications of Providence pointed the pat- 
 riarch westward, beyond the great river Euphrates, 
 on across the desert, on beyond the swelling flood 
 which was afterward to be called the Jordan, the 
 human prospect was as dark as the starless sky. 
 As one opens the ancient map and looks upon that 
 savage region, not yet studded with Jewish cities 
 and altars, but occupied by warlike tribes of wild 
 men, and resounding with the orgies of Phoenician 
 idolatry, one is reminded of the wintry welcome of 
 
292 Sermons. 
 
 the Pilgrim fathers when they landed from the 
 storms of the Atlantic, to find a home in the depths 
 of the rock-bound wilderness. Huge tracts of un- 
 broken forest frowned upon a few openings by the 
 rivers, and all the rest was solitude and desolation. 
 The Canaanites fished upon the shore. The 
 uncouth Hittites clustered in the vales. Upon the 
 mountains, the stern-faced Amorites hunted men 
 and beasts. To the eastward, the Hivites dwelt in 
 caves ; and all along the borders glided the 
 Rephaim, the mighty giants who lingered from 
 an earlier race of aborigines, invulnerable by time 
 and conquest, who in after ages still lived in Jewish 
 tradition as the majestic shades who people the 
 land of death. 
 
 This is the removal, but there must also be a 
 farewell. *' Get thee out of thy country and from 
 thy kindred, and from thy father's house." 
 
 Most of us who live in this changing world, where 
 families and friends, with all their interlacing loves, 
 are sundered as the November wind snaps the ten- 
 drils of the trellised flowers, can appreciate this 
 trial of separation. Even to the young maiden, 
 leaving home and kindred under the tenderest com- 
 mandment of God, how the forbodings and the 
 tears instinctively blend their shadows with the 
 marriage joy ! Even when the self-devoted mis- 
 sionary starts forth, like a Christian knight, to bear 
 
The Motmt of Visio7t. 29 3 
 
 Christ's banner into foreign lands, how is his eye 
 enchained to the fast receding shore, all fluttering 
 with farewells, and how does his aching heart pour 
 forth the prayer that the loving Father will bring 
 him back again to land and home ! But Abraham 
 is never to return. There is his father, but he is 
 to be fatherless. There is his mother, but he is to 
 be motherless. There is his home, but he, in all 
 the wide, wide world, shall never find another. As 
 we listen to the parting lamentations of his 
 kindred, we recall the wail of the prophet Jeremiah, 
 " Weep ye not for the dead, neither bemoan him ; 
 but weep sore for him that goeth away : for he shall 
 return no more." But, was not Abraham willing 
 to go } And did not the covenant-keeping God 
 go with him } 
 
 The time would fail, if we should speak of all the 
 trials and deliverances which are included between 
 the call of separation and the crowning sacrifice 
 upon the summit of Moriah. God did not suffer 
 his chosen servant to settle, like Moab, upon the 
 lees, but shook him, stirred him, poured him from 
 vessel to vessel, strained him, to make him pure. 
 For long and weary years he must encounter the 
 hardships of a strange and hostile country. Child- 
 less, he must give up his nephew Lot, who was, 
 doubtless, intended to be his heir. Now famine, 
 the scourge of all new settlements, threatens him 
 
294 Sermons. 
 
 with starvation. Now he is a wanderer in the land 
 of Egypt. Now he fights fierce battles with 
 Chedorlaomer, king of Elam, and Tidal, king of 
 nations. Now comes the anguish of domestic 
 discord, and Ishmael must be sent forth to die in 
 the wilderness. The very promises of God seemed 
 to be of no effect. The whole land of Canaan was 
 deeded to him by the contract of the Almighty, yet 
 he never owned so much as a foot of the soil, except 
 the cave which held his bones. The angels had 
 told him of a coming son, but he was a hundred 
 years old when the son was born. Yet, during all 
 this chequered experience, which is but the type of 
 the experience of humanity, God did not falter 
 with his promise, nor forget it. He interpreted it. 
 He glorified it with spiritual light. Before the pil- 
 grim, walked with noiseless feet the omnipotence 
 of love. He appeared to him in visions of the 
 night. He led him out to gaze upon the stars. 
 He swung the flaming lamp between the symbols 
 of the covenant. He talked with him face to face. 
 He tented with him beneath the oak of Mamre. 
 Never since the exile of our first parents from the 
 groves of Eden, has mortal man enjoyed such 
 familiar communion with his maker, as the father 
 of the faithful, the friend of God. Did not God 
 provide f Of him f 
 
 And now at last we reach the climax. The 
 
The Mount of Vision. 2g^ 
 
 supreme crisis of the patriarch's life is at hand. 
 The voice of God once more cleaves the heavens. 
 It is a thunderbolt. The summons comes for a 
 bereavement, stern, sudden, awful, self-inflicted — 
 the father is to slay his son. The voice calls 
 "Abraham!" — the chosen, sacred name. It may 
 be that God is about to bestow upon his friend 
 some special covenant, some wondrous joy. Abra- 
 ham does not know what God is about to do with 
 him. But there is no hesitation ; he answers 
 promptly as a soldier to the roll-call, *' Behold, here 
 I am." Then follows the mysterious command- 
 ment, " Take now thy son, thine only son Isaac, 
 whom thou lovest, and get thee into the land of 
 Moriah ; and offer him there for a burnt offering 
 upon one of the mountains which I will tell thee of" 
 '* Thy son ! " Father, did you ever lose a son > 
 Perhaps it was when he lay like a king in his 
 cradle ; a poor, tiny, winsome thing, with cheeks 
 as soft as the unblown petals of a rosebud, and a 
 hand that could not clasp a rattle. But your 
 prophetic love saw the great destinies in his eyes, 
 and the victorious smiles upon his lips, and in his 
 curling fingers the golden sceptre that should one 
 day sway the world. You had planned out for him, 
 year by year, a noble, transcendent life. Your 
 name was on his brow. Your brightest hopes, 
 your tenderest prayers, were bound up with kisses 
 
296 Sermons. 
 
 in the bundle of his life. But God took him, and 
 the world was left without an inhabitant. 
 
 Or, perchance, that son was grown up, straight 
 and strong to manhood, when the old fond dreams 
 had grown to substance in all that is highest in 
 knowledge, deepest in devotion, and best in stain- 
 lessness of life ; binding down circumstances by 
 the force of his character, and flashing through 
 perils like a sword of victory. 
 
 " O father, wheresoe'r thou be, 
 
 Who pledgest now thy gallant son ; 
 
 A shot, ere half thy draught be done, 
 Hath still'd the life that beat from thee. 
 O mother, praying God will save 
 
 Thy sailor — while thy head is bow'd, 
 
 His heavy-shotted hammock shroud 
 Drops in his vast and wandering grave." 
 
 Love is unchanging and immortal. The pangs 
 which you felt over the empty cradle, or the sudden 
 death of him whose leaf had perished in the green, 
 tortured the heart of Abraham as he climbed 
 speechless up the awful mount of sacrifice. Beside 
 the father walked reverently the son — according to 
 Josephus just in the bloom of manhood — from what 
 we gather in the Scriptures, tender in affection and 
 blameless in life. A son, the first born son, the 
 only son, the son of his old age, the heir of all the 
 promises, he in whom all the nations of the earth 
 were to be blessed. And this son is to die. Nay, 
 more, to be slain by the father's own hand. That 
 
The Mount of VisioH. ^97 
 
 fathers hand, that had fallen upon the infant's 
 cheek as gently as an infant's tear, is now to lay 
 him like a sheep upon the altar; to bind him hand 
 and foot, to cut his throat, to drain his blood, to 
 burn his flesh and bones with fire I Was there ever 
 in the history of mankind such a crisis of agony as 
 this? Was human love ever shocked and pierced 
 by such a question as that of the unconscious Isaac, 
 " Behold the fire and the wood ; but where is the 
 lamb for a burnt-offering ? 
 
 But God meanwhile was gazing on the tragedy. 
 According to the Jewish tradition, the Shekinah 
 like a cloud of light was pointing out the place upon 
 the mountains. God has measured the depths of 
 Abraham's need. Before he had whirled the stars 
 from His fingers, God had provided the lamb. 
 " Man's extremity is God's opportunity." " In the 
 mount of the Lord it shall be seen." 
 
 There is an awful silence. Isaac is stretched 
 helpless upon the yet unkindled wood. Abraham, 
 stifling his unutterable thoughts, stands ready with 
 the glittering knife. But swifter than the father's 
 hand breaks forth the voice of eternal love, " Abra- 
 ham, Abraham, lay not thine hand upon the lad, 
 neither do thou anything unto him. There is the 
 lamb for a burnt offering." Did not God provide 
 for him.? 
 
 God led him up the mount of sacrifice, that he 
 
598 Sermon^. 
 
 might stand victorious on the mountain top oi faith. 
 And when in this supreme trial, the patriarch 
 showed that his trust in God was stronger than fear, 
 or love, or life, God not only gave him back his 
 son, but added stupendous and majestic promises, 
 swearing by himself, not only that Abraham should 
 be blessed forever, but that all nations and ages 
 should deduce their blessedness through him. 
 
 Abraham lived some fifty years after this memor- 
 able interposition. We know not what emergencies 
 he was afterward called to pass through. But could 
 he ever, after such a crisis, have a doubt of the 
 watchful love and providence of God 1 God had 
 saved him in that which was greatest ; would he 
 not much more save him in that which is least ? 
 
 And will God provide for us as surely and effec- 
 tually as he did for Abraham ? Let the scriptures 
 answer. The Apostle in the eleventh chapter of 
 Hebrews, after speaking of Abraham's faith, and 
 the faith of the other patriarchs and prophets, closes 
 with the assurance, " These all, having obtained a 
 good report through faith, received not the promise ; 
 God having provided some better thing for us, that 
 they without us should not be made perfect." 
 
 The best part of their promises, the spiritual, 
 centered in Christ. Before Christ came, the fulfill- 
 ment was only partial. For us the provision is 
 perfect. We are not simply the heirs of the prom- 
 
The Mount of Vision. 299 
 
 ises to Abraham, but the possessors of all that was 
 promised. We have Christ as the proof of the 
 Father's love ; and having Christ, we have the 
 pledge that all things spiritual and temporal shall 
 be provided, are provided, were provided before the 
 foundation of the world. 
 
 The interposition in behalf of Abraham upon 
 the mountain, is a wonderful type of the mightier 
 interposition by which the Lamb of God was to be 
 slain for the salvation of the world. Listen to the 
 Saviour's own declaration. " Your father Abraham 
 rejoiced to see my day : and he saw it, and was 
 glad." What day .'* Not simply the time which 
 Christ lived upon the earth ; not merely the incar- 
 nate life ; but the crowning feature of the life — the 
 atoning sacrifice upon Calvary. In the depths of 
 the far off ages, brought near by faith, in that same 
 land of Moriah, and doubtless upon the self same 
 mountain, the patriarch saw the Eternal Father 
 offering the son of His love more freely than he 
 had given up Isaac. He saw a more mysterious 
 sufferer bow His majestic head to death, in a more 
 awful consecration. He saw the shuddering earth 
 and shrinking sun which proclaimed the sacrifice 
 completed. He saw hell confounded, sin demol- 
 ished, God exalted, the gates of heaven flung forth 
 to all believers, the everlasting love in the likeness 
 of a lamb that was slain, winning the worlds to 
 
3oO Sermons. 
 
 goodness by the wonders of its passion and its 
 cross. Tliis was the day that Abraham saw, and 
 no marvel that he rejoiced and was glad. 
 
 If now to-day we look backward, as the patriarch 
 looked forward, to that finished work of the Re- 
 deemer which is the central fact of history, we shall 
 soon discern the depths of man's extremity, and the 
 greatness of the divine deliverance. For thousands 
 of years the world had been developing and accumu- 
 lating its guilt. Out of all the families of the earth, 
 God had chosen the Jewish race in which to en- 
 shrine His glory and reveal His truth. Theirs was 
 the adoption, the glory, the covenants, and all the 
 symbolism of the Gospel. For them patriarchs and 
 prophets had ministered, and swift-winged angels 
 clad in robes of light. For them, from Pharaoh to 
 Sennacherib, the Almighty had stretched forth His 
 red right hand in victories so glorious that they are 
 celebrated on the harps of the redeemed, in the 
 song of Moses of the Lamb. Yet this is the nation 
 which is described by one of its own prophets, as 
 corrupt beyond all hope of restoration. "Ah sin- 
 ful nation, a people laden with iniquity, a seed of 
 evil doers, children that are corrupters I From the 
 sole of the foot even unto the head there is no 
 soundness in it ; but wounds, and bruises, and pu- 
 trefying sores." They scouted the angels, they 
 stoned the prophets, and filled up the measure of 
 
The Motmt of Vision. 30 1 
 
 *their iniquities by nailing the incarnate Godhead 
 like a thief, upon the cross. 
 
 This was the chosen nation, the children of 
 Abraham and Isaac and Jacob. What then must 
 have been the depravity of the heathen world } As 
 we answer we seem to enter the chambers of some 
 vast Lazar-house, where the noblest forms and the 
 divinest features are hideous with leprosy. Even 
 the noblest philosophers and poets of the two great 
 historic pagan nations were guilty of unnatural 
 crimes. Their very gods and goddesses were mon- 
 sters of abomination. What then of the common 
 people } Their indictment is written in the first 
 chapter of the epistle to the Romans ; and the aw- 
 ful charges therein presented are yet more explic- 
 itly substantiated by the tragic earnestness of Tac- 
 itus, in the burning sarcasm of Juvenal, are petrified 
 in the lava of Herculaneum and Pompeii, and find 
 an immortality of shame in the fragments of 
 Grecian and Estruscan art. The guilty world lay 
 like Prometheus, bound for weary centuries upon 
 the fatal rock ; the unclean vulture gnawing at its 
 vitals, the links of the king of darkness festering»in 
 its gaping wounds. 
 
 O for a deliverer like him foreshadowed in the 
 classic fable, whose hurtling arrows should destroy 
 the monster, whose conquering hand should snap 
 the massy chains ! 
 
30^ Sermons. 
 
 And now the conqueror comes. The greatness 
 of the emergency is equalled only by the complete- 
 ness of the deliverance. " In the mount of the 
 Lord it shall be seen." Upon the brow of Calvary 
 behold the miracle of love. To save a world like 
 this, what sacrifice is demanded t Not all the 
 blood of beasts that drenched a thousand altars ; 
 not all the strength of man, the bravest and the 
 best of us in fatherhood and in motherhood ; not all 
 the agonies of vicarious angels, the mightiest that 
 bear upon their wings the majesty of God, 
 
 " Can give the guilty conscience peace, 
 Or wash away its stain." 
 
 It is, it must be a divine Saviour that can bear 
 away the sin of the world, and change its groaning 
 discords into hallelujahs — God manifest in the flesh, 
 manifest in self-sacrifice. Abraham saw it, the 
 prophets revealed it, the angels heralded it, the 
 earthquake's rumbling lips proclaimed it, and more 
 than all, this aching heart demands it. I can face . 
 the terror of the law, and go down blanched 
 and thunder-scarred to bell ; I can stem the stress 
 of any substituted agony of creature from creator ; 
 but when I take my stand upon the brow of Cal- 
 vary, and steady myself to gaze upon that majestic 
 sufferer, bowing meekly his head to the dishonors of 
 death, like a poor, pale, broken lily ; when I com- 
 prehend that this is the crucifixion of the eternal 
 
The Mount of Vision, 3 03 
 
 goodness ; that this king of the Jews is none other 
 than the Lord of life, the King of glory, the Creator 
 of the universe, the fulness of the Godhead bodily ; 
 that the Infinite has become incorporate with the 
 finite, abhorring not the womb of the virgin, wear- 
 ing the weeds of sorrow, and entering into all the 
 disgusts and horrors of sin ; that in the mystic 
 union of his nature, he has suffered not only the 
 buffeting and scourging and the tortures of his 
 broken body, but the undiscoverable agony of the 
 garden, and all the pangs and lacerations of spurned 
 and violated love; that all of his divinity which 
 could be touched of death hangs dead upon the 
 cross ; that this wondrous tragedy is no extempora- 
 neous sacrifice, but had its roots far back in the 
 depths of the eternal ages, as if there had always 
 been a Gethsemane and a Calvary in heaven ; and 
 that even this stupendous consummation is but a 
 pledge and handsel of love and grace in all the 
 eternity to come ; that all this is done for sinners, 
 for enemies, for me — then at last I am broken 
 down. My heart melts, my tears flow. I fall down 
 at the foot of that cross. I exclaim with holy 
 Augustine, " Too late have I loved Thee, O Thou 
 beauty of ancient days, yet ever near. Too late 
 have I loved thee." Forgive the blindness of my 
 sin. Purge me with thy five bleeding wounds. 
 Accept my new born life. Fold me, O thou dying 
 Lamb, in the arms of thy love forever ! 
 
304 Sermons. 
 
 And now we come to the practical conclusion. 
 It is the same as in the case of Abraham. Such a 
 divine interposition, so wonderful in itself, in its 
 direct import so full of food for gratitude and praise, 
 is yet more glorious when we consider that it in- 
 cludes within itself the ground and pledge of all other 
 mercies whatsoever. God provided for Abraham in 
 his supreme emergency. This was the token and 
 assurance that in all the minor trials of his life, his 
 God would not forsake him. Whenever his faith 
 might for an instant be dim, he turned to the 
 land of Moriah, and said to his drooping heart 
 " In the mount of the Lord it shall be seen." 
 
 In an emergency more awful, by a sacrifice more 
 perfect, God has provided some better thing for us. 
 He has so loved the world as to give his only be- 
 gotten Son for our salvation. The less is included 
 in the greater. Having given us Christ, he has 
 given us all things. Having provided the Lamb of 
 Calvary, henceforth every spot in all the world is a 
 Jehovah-jireh. Having endowed us with the in- 
 heritance of heaven, much more will he give to us 
 of the things of earth. Will he provide for our 
 necessities amid the changing scenes of time } He, 
 has given us the supreme manifestation of his love, 
 and therefore in our lesser emergencies we can no 
 longer ffcar. If a benefactor has jDromised me a 
 fortune, shall I hesitate to ask him for a paltry loan "^ 
 
The Mount of Vision. 305 
 
 If a friend is ready to lay down his life for me, will 
 he not minister to my necessities in the hour of 
 sickness ? Just this is the argument of the apostle. 
 " He that spared not his own son, but delivered him 
 up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely 
 give us all things ? " " Will not the Lord provide 
 for his people ?" " In the mount of the Lord it 
 shall be seen." Ho, ye desponding ones, bowed 
 down with sorrow, care and disappointment, all 
 things are yours. Lift up your eyes unto the 
 mountain. God has given you himself, and having 
 God, what can you want beside } What is best for 
 you he gives ; what is not best for you he with- 
 holds ; and giving or withholding, he will pour his 
 love upon you, tenderly like a father, royally like a 
 God. 
 
 The final application of the subject refers to that 
 separation of pastor and people of which I scarcely 
 dare to speak. God will provide for you. Look at 
 that bread when it is broken, that wine when it 
 is poured ; will not he who furnished such a sym- 
 bol of such a Saviour, supply your utmost need t 
 Has he not proved to you his watchful, loving 
 guidance in the past } In the first three years of 
 the church's existence, when it was without a pas- 
 tor and without a fold, the Lord was your shepherd 
 and you did not want. And during the eight years of 
 that fellowship of which the parting word is breathed 
 
3o6 Sermons. 
 
 to-day, I can testify from my own experience that 
 the Lord has interposed at every step, to direct, to 
 encourage, to support and to save. 
 
 I am compelled to regard my own ministry here 
 as providential. It was not of my own seeking that 
 I came ; it is not of my own seeking that I depart. 
 The circle seems to be complete. This is the anni- 
 versary month of my ordination, and the anni- 
 versary week of the dedication of this Tabernacle. 
 The number of the members to be received to-day, 
 is the number of the church at its original organi- 
 zation. Receive the token. You are now to start 
 upon another stadium of existence. 
 
 When I preached my ordination sermon, I ex- 
 pressed my thankfulness, not only that my lot had 
 been cast in a city throbbing with the life-blood of 
 the metropolis, but here among the people of my 
 choice ; with whom, in the household and in the 
 sanctuary ; in sickness and in health, at bridal and 
 at burial, in baptism and in communion, and in 
 blessed seasons of revival, my joys and griefs 
 should be linked together; and who, in all my 
 ministry, should enrich me with the treasures of 
 of their supporting love. 
 
 To day, as I preach my farewell sermon, I am 
 thankful still. My heart's fondest prophecies have 
 been more than realized in an affection which has 
 never known break or jar, but has gone on expand- 
 
The Mount of Vision. 307 
 
 ing to the final hour like an anthem's closing swell. 
 If ever the poet's words were true, they are true in 
 this hour of separation ; 
 
 " 'Tis better to have loved and lost, 
 
 Than never to have loved at all." 
 
 No Other church can ever be to me like this. It 
 was my first church, and I was your first pastor. 
 And now the tie which seemed almost like that of 
 marriage, is to be sundered forever. Yet what 
 could tempt me to part with all the priceless re- 
 membrances which I have gathered here 1 They 
 will be my inspiration and my joy as long as love 
 can live. I shall bless God for them in eternity. 
 This period of my ministry is a life-time upon a 
 smaller scale. At the close of it I have many re- 
 grets — shall I say one great regret — that I have not 
 been more earnest, more faithful, more successful 
 in leading men to the Saviour. Will it be so in 
 heaven } O with what joy shall I welcome the least 
 of these little ones whom God shall enable me to 
 bring to glory. But this great congregation who 
 will turn away this morning, unmindful of the dying 
 Lamb of God — how can I leave you unsaved .-* Let 
 me at least exhort you, by these changing scenes 
 of time, to fix your trust in Him who is unchange- 
 able. There is Christ, dying upon the mountain. 
 My parting word is. Look unto him, and live 
 forever ! 
 
3o8 Sermons. 
 
 And now, dear brethren, friends of my soul, in 
 conclusion let us rejoice that we have the God of 
 Abraham to care for us as we fare forth upon our 
 pilgrimage ; that we have in Christ the pledge of 
 all good things. " In the mount of the Lord it 
 
 shall be seen." 
 
 » 
 We cannot comprehend the mystery of all these 
 
 upheavals and dislodgements. But they are all 
 working together for our good, and we shall under- 
 stand them better, bye and bye. God grant that 
 we may all meet again where there is no grievous 
 change, nor sickness, nor shades of death ; no bur- 
 den of disappointed hope, no tear of unutterable 
 farewell ; where we shall renew the communion 
 which we began on earth without any fear of the 
 last time ; and as we clasp our circling hands around 
 the throne of God, and pierce the meaning of His 
 providences, the wonders of His love ; then at last 
 upon the height of heaven's beatitude — "in the 
 mount of the Lord it shall be seen." 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
POSTHUMOUS INFLUENCE. 
 
POSTHUMOUS INFLUENCE. 
 
 A SERMON COMMEMORATIVE OF REV. JOHN 
 MILTON HOLMES. 
 
 By REV. G. BUCKINGHAM WILLCOX. 
 
 ** And Elisha died, and they buried him. And the bands of the 
 Moabites invaded the land at rhe coming in of the year. And it 
 came to pass, as they were burying a man, that, behold they 
 spied a band of men ; and they cast the man into the sepulcher of 
 Elisha ; and when the man was let down and touched the bones of 
 Elisha, he revived and stood upon his feet." 
 
 2 Kings xiii. 20, 21. 
 
 The prophet, on his death-bed, had predicted the 
 success of the arms of Israel against Syria. But 
 when at last his lips are mute, and his body put 
 aside from man's view, there is danger that his 
 countrymen will lose heart, as if the Almighty had 
 died with him. Only sad thoughts gather now 
 about that silent sepulcher. God therefore gives 
 power to the dead. A miracle wrought by the 
 moldering bones — life infused into a corpse thrown 
 upon them — startles the Jews with the truth that 
 the prophet, even from his tomb, has a message, 
 and, being dead, yet speaketh. 
 
3i6 Ap'f>endix, 
 
 The whole incident is a striking suggestion of 
 posthumous influence, or the moral power of a man's , 
 life holding on after his death ; which is the subject 
 I bring to you this morning. 
 
 The idea of surviving the grave carries one's 
 thoughts, commonly, to the life beyond. The eter- 
 nal sphere comes up to view. We forget the great 
 and mighty truth that, even on earth and among 
 men, we live, in some sense, after death. They who 
 tread upon our graves will feel the molding effect 
 of our lives. We leave behind a moral atmosphere 
 of health or of miasma for their breathing. 
 
 I. This is a power that we are now and in- 
 cessantly setting at work. There are many who 
 think of it as nothing more than the influence that 
 the example of a man, as we remember it, has over 
 us. But not so at all. That sort of power is like the 
 perfume from an aromatic tree that has just been 
 felled by the axe. It lasts awhile, then floats away. 
 But this influence is like the winged seeds which the 
 tree has been, all its life-time, launching on the air, 
 and which have taken root and already sprung up 
 in great forests. There is no one of us, no matter 
 how little known, who is not, by dint of his charac- 
 ter infused into the characters of others, gaining a 
 foothold in them for shaping their destiny that not 
 even his own death can take from him. The 
 memory of your life will sway men only as they call 
 
Posthumous Injliie^tce. 317 
 
 you to mind. But your example is putting into 
 them, while they do not think of it, elements of 
 character that will grow stronger when you are gone. 
 There is not a man of us here, who is just what he 
 would be had he never associated with certain per- 
 sons whose very names he has forgotten. From 
 each one you took some change of this or that pro- 
 pensity. And when, in the day that is coming to 
 us all, those fine and numberless threads that make- 
 up the web of your character shall be drawn out, 
 one by one, it will be known who wove in each of 
 them and tinged it with its color on the pattern of 
 your inner life. And, as the dead have done to you, 
 so are you doing to them who come after you. Day 
 after day, while little thinking it, you are stamping 
 them with moral impressions that will live forever. 
 2. The influence, that a man in dying leaves 
 behind him, is the influence that ought to follow such 
 a character as he has borne. Not many men while 
 in active life have exactly the position or reputation 
 that belongs to them. The Bible hints as much. 
 It speaks of " the restitution of all things" from 
 their disorder and confusion. One man is eminent, 
 and his influence is greater than he deserves. 
 Another is obscure, and, for all his fair character, 
 he is underrated. One is judged too sharply, an- 
 other too easily. So, like many colored shades 
 around a lamp, the circumstances that are around 
 
3 1 8 Appendix. 
 
 a man refract the rays of his moral Hght, and no 
 one sees it pure. But death strips off these dis- 
 guises. Nothing but naked character survives the 
 grave. The rich man dead is rich no longer. The 
 mighty overawes us no more with his power, or the 
 great with the splendor of his genius. The world 
 grows impartial in judging. It probes and searches 
 deep. It is like your physician, when you call him 
 to examine your case. What are outward appear- 
 ances to him.!* He cares nothing for your fine 
 clothes or your jewelry. He puts them by, and 
 looks in toward the seat of your life. He must feel 
 your heart-throbs and the play of your lungs. 
 
 A man's motives may, through his life, be a per- 
 fect enigma to his neighbors ; but the test to which 
 death puts him will bring everything to light. 
 Was he a man famous in his generation t Then he 
 will be known even to his thoughts. You will find 
 his secret correspondence, his letters of affection 
 that let you far into his heart, printed and published 
 and spread all abroad. And if he were less known, 
 still the real truth in regard to him will, in one way 
 and another, come out. Death is a pillar of cloud 
 and of fire. It casts toward eternity only mystery 
 and darkness, but it throws back among the living, 
 on the side of time, a more searching light. You 
 may deceive your contemporaries ; but posterity 
 will sift you more closely. If there is chaff in you, 
 depend on them to find it ! 
 
Posthumous Influence. 319 
 
 Then, too, the character of a man strikes sur- 
 vivors in a mass, so to speak. While his life was 
 running on, they watched only the part of it that 
 happened, for the time, to be under their notice. 
 He was a bad man on the whole ; but did them 
 some good turn, and they admired him. He was a 
 good man ; but tried their patience with some fault 
 or folly, and they despised him. But, when the 
 whole scene is over, when no part of it is any 
 longer contemporary with them, nor any transient 
 or personal feeling warps their judgment, then 
 they take the impress of the whole of him, and of 
 his whole career. Whatever he was, morally, in 
 the main, whatever chief purpose he had for life, 
 whether the love of himself or of God and his 
 fellow men, this, in solid bulk as it were, without 
 regard to exceptions, will remain to stamp his 
 memory and to shape his influence. 
 
 And here, friends, the subject comes home to us. 
 Each one of us may say, in soliloquy, " I shall yet 
 be thoroughly known. I shall yet pass for just 
 what I am morally worth. I may have incidental 
 faults or excellencies ; but men will not judge me 
 by those when I am gone. They will all fall away 
 from around the character I have built up, as the 
 scaffolding comes down from around a completed 
 building. If I have acted a false part, the world 
 will be cheated no longer. If I have been, at heart, 
 
320 Appendix, 
 
 simple and honest, with a loving and charitable 
 spirit, if I have gladly borne self-sacrifice to do good, 
 then the truth will be known, and the power of my 
 example will live after me, to work on for God and 
 Christ's cause among men." 
 
 3, But this posthumous influence will be often 
 of great extent. Says an old commentator on the 
 text of this morning : " This was more than Elisha 
 had done in his lifetime, when he could not, with- 
 out many prayers, and stretching himself with great 
 application upon the body of the child, raise' it again 
 to life ; whereas now, upon touching of his dead 
 body only, God restored a man in an instant to per- 
 fect health." There is a larger meaning in this 
 than perhaps the writer himself saw. Many a valu- 
 able life has been a seed that must first be buried 
 and dissolved before it can put out branches and 
 bear fruit. Many a Christian hero, like Snmson in 
 the temple of the Philistines, has damaged the 
 kingdom of Satan more in his death and after it 
 than in all his life before. John Bunyan preaches 
 with small success for a few years, then is thrown 
 into prison, writes a book there, is afterwards freed, 
 and dies but little known. Men think his influence, 
 too, dead and buried. But, he has soon a resur- 
 rection in his Pilgrim, and, by translations into many 
 languages, the gift of tongues beside. So he goes 
 travelling and teaching from land to land, till his 
 posthumous in ence girds the globe. 
 
Postktmwus Influence. 321 
 
 Take the biography of any whole-souled worker 
 for God and men — of Luther, or Whitfield, or 
 Wilberforce, or Chalmers, or Buxton, or Lyman 
 Beecher ; read it with your heart alive to it, and 
 you cannot lay down the book without feeling that 
 such a man can never die. What if his body per- 
 ishes ? A soul like his must go on electrifying men, 
 and stirring them up to all that is pure and true 
 and good. So with men of the opposite sort. 
 Lord Byron never crossed the Atlantic before his 
 death, or seduced our youth with the fatal fascin- 
 ation of his genius. But, for these near fifty years 
 since his body was borne to its burial, in his 
 printed works he has been ranging the country 
 and sowing death from shore to shore. 
 
 " But not all men," you may say, " can be au- 
 thors, who live in their books." No ; and others, 
 beside authors, have posthumous power. 
 
 As the springhead of a river that waters halt a 
 continent is hidden back amongst the mountains, 
 so the source of m.any a flood of influence, that has 
 blessed a generation in its flow, you may find in the 
 cottage of some poor widow, or on the bed of some 
 praying invalid, who has long, now, been in heaven. 
 
 The posthumous power of a good man is often like 
 rivers that run part way under ground, and come 
 out to water fields that lie far beyond. You do not 
 see the effect of it at once. God's eye alone, per- 
 
322 Appendix. 
 
 haps, can trace it. But the moral laws of the uni- 
 verse, the laws of nature, will all have to fail before 
 power like that can be lost. 
 
 I have taken this theme, this morning, to set be- 
 fore you an example of it that you will long cherish 
 in your love. I should be glad to do honor, in 
 some fitting words, to the memory of my beloved 
 predecessor in this pulpit. While every heart here 
 feels that a good, true soul has passed from among 
 us, while this draped pulpit speaks more impress- 
 ively than its living occupant can speak, of our loss, 
 I call you to consider what a life like his is worth, 
 and to pray Heaven that the power of it may live 
 long in these lives of ours. Indeed, there are some 
 of us who can never be, to their last hour, the same 
 characters that they would have been, had they not 
 met with him. Some were first led by his hand to 
 the Saviour they love, and others caught from his 
 faith and zeal a fire that they will never lose. 
 
 We may say more. In the great cathedral of 
 St. Paul in London, the grave of the architect, 
 under the floor, has the inscription. " If you seek 
 his monument, look around." This sanctuary is 
 the monument of John Milton Holmes. Under 
 his lead you planned and built it. His care and 
 love went into its stone and brick and timber, 
 as it slowly rose from foundation to summit. Under 
 its roof he wore down his life in preaching the truth 
 
PostJmmotis Influence. 323 
 
 he loved more than Hfe. As you have already 
 honored another, so we hope to see a tablet to his 
 memory built into the wall ; but the walls are all 
 his tablet. They are all witnesses to his faith in 
 God and his love for you. 
 
 But let me now review, hastily and insufficiently 
 as I must, the main events of his life, through 
 which we shall see something of his fine and noble 
 character. 
 
 Born on the twenty-third of May, 1831, on the 
 little island of Sheppey, at the mouth of the Thames, 
 in England, he passed there his early childhood. 
 The only recollection that remained to him from 
 those years was of the reading to him of Fox's Book 
 of Martyrs. That terrible record of cruelty and of 
 lofty faith, those pages that would strike his young 
 imagination as dashed with sacred blood and aglow 
 with purifying fires, must, I think, have wrought 
 themselves in among the moral forces of his life. 
 You know with what eagerness for self-sacrifice, he 
 offered himself for the army after the fall of Fort 
 Sumpter ; you know how thorough a Christian 
 heroism was almost as much the specialty by which 
 to know him as the name his mother gave him. 
 And it is easy, as now we look back on his life, to 
 believe that in all the after years, he carried in him 
 still the lingering echoes of the tales he had heard 
 from Fox's Book of Martyrs. In his eighth year, 
 
324 Appendix. 
 
 his parents removed to America, His father's pro- 
 fession, as a clergyman of the IVLethodist Church 
 required, of course, the frequent removal of the 
 family on the circuit. He was made, early in life, to 
 feel the uncertainty of earthly fortune, and that we 
 have here no continuing city or abiding-place. So 
 often torn from one home and another in which his 
 life was beginning to take root, he was schooled to 
 hold the world lightly and to look for a city that 
 hath foundations. 
 
 At about fourteen years of age, while residing in 
 New Haven, he first caught sight of the venerable 
 walls of Yale College. And that sight, like a vision 
 of heaven, haunted him for years. The love of 
 learning, which, in some youth is a languid taste, 
 was already, in him, a passion. " I will study 
 within those walls ! " became, as he often afterward 
 related, the silent but unalterable motto of his life. 
 Boy as he was, and with years of privation before 
 him, he could not give it up. He would have, by 
 and by, a college education ! He would study the 
 great thoughts of the world's master-spirits, and 
 catch their inspiration. He would come to man- 
 hood thoroughly equipped to fill his place and do 
 his life-work well. He would not grow through the 
 spring and summer of his days, without growing 
 ripe ! Perhaps, too, though it was not till much 
 later that he finally desired to enter the pulpit> 
 
Posthumous Influc7ice. 325 
 
 some yet more sacred aspirations mingled with his 
 boyish ambition. For he never knew the day in 
 which his Christian life began. He seems to have 
 been one of those choice souls whom God, from al- 
 most their unconscious childhood, makes his own. 
 The new spirit somehow blended with his nature as 
 sunbeams enter into vegetation — with no crisis, 
 hardly a date. And so he longed for a finished 
 mind as a silver trumpet for the voice of a conse- 
 crated heart. And, as we shall see, he toiled on, 
 through poverty and trial and hope deferred, till he 
 made good his purpose, and, at length, could look 
 back on the dear old College as the Alma Mater 
 who had crowned him with her honors and furnished 
 him for his work. 
 
 Soon after these young dreams began to possess 
 him, his parents moved to the West, where his 
 father went into the service of the American Home 
 Missionary Society, and where his life was passed, 
 in the main, till he entered college at the age of 
 twenty-two. From his twelfth year onward he 
 did his utmost to take from his parents the burden 
 of caring for him, and to contribute something 
 in his turn to their comfort. "John," his father 
 wrote, on receiving the news of his death, "John 
 never did anything to try me." His skill was equal 
 to his energy. In his thirteenth year he completed, 
 with his own hands, a pair of boots. They may or 
 
326 Appendix. 
 
 may not have been models of workmanship, but 
 valuable boots I know they were, for something 
 more costly than leather went into their make. 
 
 When nineteen years old he determined to open a 
 school. The town he chose for the experiment, 
 Peru, Indiana, lay many miles from his father's 
 house. He started, with a single dollar as his re- 
 sources, and walked the whole distance. On the 
 way his shoes completely failed him, and he finished 
 the journey on the bare soles of his feet. Arriving 
 at the village, he found his clothing, too, had suf- 
 fered from wear, and must be replaced. At once 
 he repaired to a tailor, told his story and asked 
 credit for a new suit till his school enterprise should 
 furnish the means of repayment. Something in his 
 face — anyone who ever caught his eye could easily 
 tell what — won confidence at once ; and, stranger 
 as he was, his new-found friend had him soon well 
 clad. The school commenced, and, not long after, 
 came on the Fourth of July. At the village cele- 
 bration he pronounced a poem that completely cap- 
 tivated his audience and multiplied his patrons. 
 It was Independence Day to him, indeed. There 
 was no more question of his success. The next 
 Spring he returned to his friends at home, on his 
 own horse, and with a hundred and fifty silver 
 dollars with which to rejoice their hearts. 
 
 So, with faith in God, and in himself as God 
 
Posthumous Influence. 327 
 
 wrought with him, he struggled on, with the vision 
 of college always in his eye. At one time he 
 worked in a daguerrean establishment, at another 
 time as clerk in a bank ; at all times more anxious 
 to gain something for the comfort of them he so 
 much loved than for his own. 
 
 When at length, after patient waiting, and four or 
 five years beyond the usual time of life, he reached 
 New Haven and entered Yale, it was only to begin 
 his long course of study without means, and to work 
 his own way through from term to term. How he 
 endeared himself there, what ties were woven, be- 
 tween him and classmates, that death has not 
 severed, and eternity will only strengthen, I have no 
 sufficient time to tell. As I saw his old room-mate, 
 now a professor in the College, bending over his 
 death-bed, a few days ago, as I watched the tearful 
 tenderness of his care for him, and the love, like the 
 love of David and Jonathan with which their eyes 
 met now and then, I felt what a strange, magnetic 
 charm there was in him to draw such a love. 
 There are many Christians, and some of them young, 
 who are sincere and good — no man who knows them 
 doubts it ; but they are morbid. They are full of 
 fears and doubts — slaves to Christ, instead of the 
 glad children they ought to be. They move about 
 in a ghostly way, that repels men. There was 
 nothing of that in him. No classmate ever had 
 
328 ^ Appe7idix. 
 
 that idea of him. He overflowed with his hearty 
 good-nature. He effervesced with cheerfulness. 
 He won hearts as the sun wins buds oi3en in May, 
 not so much on purpose as because it was his 
 nature and he could not help it. 
 
 After graduation, he went west and spent about 
 two years as a teacher, paying meanwhile the 
 debts that were left from his college course, and 
 preparing for his studies in theology. During that 
 period, at his home in the outskirts of Rockford, 
 Illinois, he lost his mother. He had loved her as 
 such a son could love ; and had continued, to the 
 end of her life, his filial care and every kindness in 
 his power. I shall never forget the description he 
 gave us, one day last week, of the scene at her 
 death. He was so weak that he could only pant 
 his words out slowly ; but they were wcrds so 
 graphic as to show that the weakness was of the 
 flesh alone. " It was out on the prairie," he said, 
 *' and night had fallen around the house, and the 
 Pleiades were swelling out in their solemn beauty, 
 and while I sat by her bedside, watching them, I 
 opened the Bible. ' Even as a father pitieth his 
 children,' I read, ' so the Lord pitieth them that 
 fear Him.' " And to another he had often told 
 how his father prayed with her and for her as her 
 life ebbed away ; and how, when he opened his 
 eyes to rise from his knees, he found her happy 
 
Posthumous Influence. 329 
 
 spirit had already gone to rest. " And I thought," 
 he added, " of the hymn — 
 
 * Prayer is the Christian's vital breath : 
 We enter heaven by prayer.' " 
 
 About the time of her death, he was invited to 
 serve as colleague pastor with one of the foremost 
 divines in New England. A most flattering and 
 tempting offer it was. He had not even begun his 
 professional studies ; but his reputation had outrun 
 his years, and a pulpit as prominent as any in the 
 north-eastern states was pressed on his acceptance. 
 But he felt himself unfitted altogether for any such 
 position, and soon entered the Theological Semi- 
 nary at Andover. There he had been quietly at 
 work for less than two years, with half his course 
 yet left, when you called him here. The professors 
 complained that you were quite premature, and the 
 thing was highly improper. But he was made to 
 see a providence in it, as anybody seems to be who 
 is wanted here ; and the objections were like 
 parents' objections to the marriage when the 
 lovers* minds are made up. Of course he came. 
 
 And here comes in a long hiatus in my story — 
 the years when you knew him better than I — till 
 we reach these last few blessed days in which I 
 knew him better than most of you. Some of you 
 have told me that he wore out his strength, while 
 pastor, with over work* ; others say that the real 
 
 * The signal devotion of Mr. Holmes to his church and con- 
 
330 Appejtdix. 
 
 trouble was that his soul was too much for his body 
 to bear when he, came. And both, I suspect, are 
 right. A man less determined to work and do 
 good, at whatever cost to himself, would have 
 probably lived longer, with no better health at the 
 start than he. A man with the health of an athlete 
 could hardly have stood for many years the strain 
 under which he lived till you sent him away to 
 recruit. 
 
 It was rhe war, perhaps, as much as the care of 
 the church, that broke him down. It was the work 
 involved, with the anxiety and excitement, in 
 making this tabernacle a kind of head-quarters of 
 loyalty, for which he paid the penalty of his life. 
 The battles, even before and after Gettysburg, were 
 not all fought on Southern ground. Cannon and 
 muskets were not the only arms. The rebels 
 declared they would bring the war home to us ; 
 and they did, though not precisely as they meant. 
 For women's needles fought, and editors' pens, and 
 preachers' voices, and mothers' prayers, all over the 
 loyal north, from Cairo to Bangor. And the worn 
 and wasted frame that was left in this pulpit, after 
 the struggle, was as much one of the wounded as 
 
 gregation should have had more extended notice in the discourse. 
 His love for the flock amounted to a passion, and drew a like 
 affection from them. He longed to reciprocate the many tokens of 
 their regard ; and, as one mode of so doing, in the closing days of 
 his life, insisted, against their remonstrance, on leaving his choice 
 and valuable library a farewell gift to the church. 
 
Posthumous htfluence. 331 
 
 any volunteer who lay on the field when a battle 
 was over, with the blood streaming from his side. 
 
 But after his failure of health, that forced him 
 away to his long conflict with disease and death, 
 after the conflict had gone on from year to year, far 
 east beyond the ocean, far west almost beyond 
 civilization, he came here at last to die among old 
 and tried and trusted friends. And so evidently, 
 Christ came with him, to uphold him to the end, 
 that it was a kind of beginning of heaven to look 
 into his face and hear his words. I wish that more 
 of you could have had the privilege. Probably, 
 some who sought it, and whom his weakness would 
 not suffer him to see, may have deeply felt the 
 disappointment. Let me assure them that none 
 felt it more deeply than he. It was a pain to him 
 to decline to meet any one who had the kindness 
 to call upon him. But the disease would often 
 reduce him suddenly, and then, as suddenly, relief 
 would come. He would admit one to his bedside, 
 and, in ten minutes, be forced to refuse another. 
 But, through all the sufferings and the intervals of 
 rest, that followed one another like cloud.shade and 
 sunshine, his patience never seemed to fail, or his 
 gratitude or cheerfulness. " God is a rod as well as 
 a staff," he said, " and the rod comforts as much as 
 the staff." He seemed to look forward, feeling that — 
 
 " Weary hours of woe and pain 
 KxQ promises of happier years." 
 
332 Appendix. 
 
 He had no raptures in the prospect of heaven — 
 saw no visions. At times, he wondered that no 
 more of that sort of experience was given him. 
 For myself, I had no sorrow or regret on any such 
 account. It was a greater pleasure to see him so 
 thoroughly natural in his Christian moods, so 
 evidently like himself. I sat with him more than 
 once, comparing views as to the life into which he 
 was passing. We agreed in believing the inter- 
 mediate state between death and the judgment to 
 be not a state in which a Christian is lifted to the 
 prompt perfection of every power and grace and 
 enjoyment, but one of progress in character and 
 happiness. Oh, that I could question his glad spirit 
 now, and learn how it is ! 
 
 He sometimes mused about the possible occupa- 
 tions of the inhabitants of heaven. " I have a 
 great love of studying language," he said one day, 
 " our old English language, in its Saxon roots and 
 its unfolding. Perhaps my taste will not be in- 
 dulged in heaven. I should be more sure it would 
 be if it ran toward astronomy." The thought of 
 the rest that heaven offers to one so exhausted and 
 tired with years of sickness, was a thought for 
 which he grew every day more grateful to God. 
 " How often I have said, I am weary !" he whis- 
 pered with weak breath. It is hard for us who are 
 well and strong to imagine with what a panting of 
 
Postkumotis Influence, 333 
 
 desire he must have longed for repose. Far up, 
 they say, at the top of the long steep pass of 
 Glencoe in the Scotch Highlands, you find a stone 
 with the inscription " Rest and be thankful." And 
 as, after his tiresome journey of life, he at last drew 
 a long breath of relief, and was at home, who 
 knows but some angel-friend, perhaps the mother 
 he loved and was so eager to see, met him with the 
 welcome, " Rest now for ever, with thanksgiving to 
 God } " 
 
 A very vivid sense he had that his soul was his 
 proper self — the body nothing but a convenience 
 for a time. " Only old* clothes, this body," he said 
 one morning, " that I lay by when I have done with 
 them." At another time, he looked at his emaciated 
 flesh, with the bones almost protruding, and said, 
 with a smile, " Rattle down, old tenement ! I have 
 a better house above ! " But, beyond all thought 
 of more knowledge or of rest, or of release from this 
 body into another that should know nothing of 
 sickness or weariness, was his reaching upward in 
 hope to the sight of the Master he loved in His 
 unveiled glory. On that hope he feasted and grew 
 strong. 
 
 But was he perfect } Had he no faults } I sup- 
 pose he had them, for he was human ; though I 
 saw nothing of them myself. But what are faults 
 on a man who is sound at the heart, and is just 
 
334 Appendix, 
 
 rising into the new life of heaven ? What are 
 hanging shreds or earth stains on the husk of the 
 seed that is shooting above ground into bloom and 
 flower ? The inward beauty comes out and casts 
 them off, and lays them by for ever. If you say I 
 have praised my brother too much, and with no 
 discrimination, I care nothing for that. Christ will 
 take charge of his sins and infirmities. I love to 
 praise him, and I will ; for I praise, through him, 
 the Lord who made him what he was. Such 
 Christian genuineness as there was in him, such 
 simplicity of purpose, such scorn of all cant or 
 sham, such love, that filled him as the sun's light 
 fills a dew-drop, and shone out of him — it is a 
 luxury to see in a world like ours, and to think of 
 and tell of when it is gone ! 
 
 But it is not gone. While any of us survive who 
 have seen and felt it, I think it never can be. 
 Effects come from such lives long after men think 
 the force of them is spent. The biography of a' 
 man whom I never saw, nor ever came within three 
 thousand miles of his grave even, in which he has 
 lain for thirty years, has done as much for me as 
 all living men together. And the sight of your 
 eyes that daguerreotypes a good life on you, is 
 worth more than a printed page. I look for results 
 of this life that is now closed among us. I have 
 stood on a river-bank and watched a steamer pas- 
 
Post/mmoiis Infltience. 335 
 
 sing and rounding a bend in the stream, till she 
 was lost to view. And then, when all was quiet, 
 and nothing left to be seen but the river, there 
 began to come in the long swell of her wake, 
 surging and breaking at my feet. There are waves 
 of influence, when such a man as this has passed, 
 having in him Christ the hope of glory, that will 
 roll on for ever ! 
 
 O my friends, look you here, and see what a life 
 like this is worth ! You who know nothing in 
 your own experience of the motives from heaven 
 that moved him — you pleasure-lovers, money- 
 gatherers, schemers after the good that feeds the 
 senses — what is a fortune worth to leave behind, 
 compared with a memory like his } What is a 
 fortune-seeker's hope worth to carry away, com- 
 pared with a promise of heaven like his .-* Think 
 of that I entreat you. It is only by a few, swift 
 years that he has gone before us. This chequered 
 life will soon be only a thing of memory to you and 
 me. Why not begin now to turn it to account } 
 Why not bring your powers of mind and body, and 
 what you have gained with them, to offer all to the 
 only owner to whom they belong .•* Why not, at 
 last, live in earnest, with an object worth your life .-* 
 Let this true, faithful soul, whose pictured features 
 from behind me in the pulpit, look on you now, 
 persuade you in his silencQ as he never could by 
 
33^ Appendix. 
 
 speech. You must meet him again. Your memory 
 must bring up the words of love and warning he 
 has spoken where I stand. What sort of meeting 
 shall that be for you .'* 
 
THE FAITHFUL MINISTER. 
 
THE FAITHFUL MINISTER. 
 
 A SERMON IN MEMORY OF JOHN MILTON HOLMES. 
 By GEORGE B. BACON, 
 
 PASTOR OF THE ORANGE VALLEY CHURCH, ORANGE, N. J. 
 
 " Our dear fellow servant, who is for you a faithful minister of 
 Christ." 
 
 COLOSSIANS I. 7. 
 
 These words in which the Apostle, writing to the 
 Colossian church, speaks lovingly of one whom he 
 with others had alike reason to keep always in re- 
 membrance, will apply, almost without the change 
 of word or letter, to him concerning whom I am to 
 speak this evening. For the loss which, in the wise 
 providence of God, this church has recently been 
 called to suffer is not their loss alone. If, for you, 
 the brother who has gone was like Epaphras at 
 Colosse, " a faithful minister of Jesus Christ," who 
 " always labored faithfully for you in prayers, that 
 ye might stand perfect and complete in all the will 
 of God ; if, of him, as the apostle did concerning 
 Apaphras, I may well " bear record that he had a 
 great zeal for you ;" and if your sense of loss when 
 you remember that you shall see his face no more is 
 
342 Sermons. 
 
 sorrowful indeed : to others also,— to me who 
 speak to you to-night, not least, — to the pastors of 
 these sister churches, for whom, as for myself, I 
 speak, — to all christian men who ever knew him, and 
 who knowing him loved him, because to know him 
 was to love him, — to us, I say, the sense of loss is 
 deep and sorrowful as of a " dear fellow servant," — 
 how dear I have come to testify. What made him so 
 dear a fellow servant, and so faithful a minister of 
 Christ, — this also I have come to tell, as best I may, 
 that ye remembering him who spoke to you the 
 word of God may more and more be followers of 
 his faith, considering the end of his conversation. 
 For Jesus Christ, the author and finisher of his 
 faith is " the same yesterday, to-day and forever ! " 
 You have listened already, as was most fit, to the 
 story of his life told by your pastor, his successor, 
 whom, during those last days of his extremity, he 
 had learned to know and love. I shall not repeat — 
 I shall only briefly supplement — the facts of that 
 biography. I shall try to make some estimate of 
 his character and to teach the lessons of his life. 
 But in doing this, I shall draw on my own recollec- 
 tion of an intimacy which, beginning almost a score 
 of years ago, grew all the time more close, more 
 dear, more sacred till, three weeks since, he en- 
 tered through the veil which hides him from my 
 mortal eyes. 
 
The Faithful Minister. 343 
 
 I remember well when in the summer of the year 
 1853, John Milton Holmes came to New Haven to 
 pass his examination for admission to Yale College. 
 It is a time of no common interest and importance in 
 the life of a young man, when he enters on his college 
 course. And, even when one has had all possible 
 advantages, has been exercised by the discipline of 
 the best preparatory schools and encouraged by the 
 friendly help and counsel of the wisest teachers and by 
 the amplest fellowship of his comrades in study, it 
 is with some nervousness and self-distrust that he 
 comes to the strange place and among the strange 
 faces and the venerable presences of the college. 
 But Holmes came to New Haven with no such ad- 
 vantages. What preparation he had was largely of 
 his own getting. Long before, necessity had 
 taught him self-reliance and self-sacrifice ; and he had 
 learned that if the boyish purpose which he had formed 
 when he was fifteen years old, — the purpose of study- 
 ing within the walls of Yale College, — should ever 
 be realized it must be by his own exertions. From 
 his father, and in his father s school, he had ac- 
 quired the habits and the love of study, and had so 
 far mastered learning that, while he was fitting him- 
 self for college, he could be a teacher of others in 
 the common branches. By such school teaching 
 and by industrious toil in business, he supported 
 himself while he was^ getting ready for New Haven. 
 
344 Sermons. 
 
 It was during this period that some of his best life- 
 lessons were learned, some of his best life-battles 
 fought. He knew what it was to be poor and to 
 work hard ; to save the early hours and the late 
 ones from his daily business of self-support for his 
 other daily business of self-culture. Some of the 
 experiences of these years of preparation, as I have 
 heard them from himself, as I have heard them 
 from others, were such as would be deeply interest- 
 ing, if this were the place and the time to rehearse 
 them. I will only say that in the course of them 
 he came in contact with all sorts and conditions of 
 men, and grappled with some dangerous forms of 
 sin and error, and acquired much of that practical 
 knowledge of human nature in its various phases, — 
 phases sad and morbid, grotesque and ludicrous, — 
 which was so useful to him in his future life and 
 ministry. 
 
 It did not take the college world long to discover 
 that this new-comer, who had, almost unaided, pre- 
 pared himself for college, was the equal, and in 
 many ways the superior, of his fellows, who had 
 enjoyed the best advantages of grammar schools 
 and academies. He took his rightful place, at 
 once, easily chief among us by his genius and his 
 enthusiasm. Perhaps no man ever enjoyed the col- 
 lege life more heartily than he. In mere scholar- 
 ship his rank was among the highest, but in litera- 
 
The Faithful Minister. 345 
 
 tiire, in debase, in social life ; when any one was 
 wanted to make a speech or write a song or give a 
 poem ; when there was any great transaction in the 
 college world which called for qualities of leader- 
 ship, he came naturally, and of course, to the front 
 and to the head. To this day they sing his songs 
 at Yale, and will for many a day to come, and the 
 memory of his college enthusiasm will not cease 
 so long as those who knew him there shall live. In 
 himself that enthusiasm never flagged. It was with 
 a religious fondness that he always spoke and 
 thought of his Alma Mater. When he went back 
 to her, as from time to time after his graduation 
 he was able to, all his boyish exhilaration came back 
 there with him, deepened and intensified. He 
 would grow eloquent and splendid in his utterances 
 of attachment, of memory, of hope. The very last 
 time he was there, although disease had somewhat 
 . sobered and even saddened him, he was the life 
 of the commencement festival. And among the 
 honors which, during the last ten years, have been 
 so thickly crowding in upon him, he valued not the 
 least his appDintment to preside as the " Sympo- 
 siarch," or ruler of ths feast on that occasion. By a 
 kind of common consent, as we read over the roll 
 of graduates of the last fifteen years, we place his 
 name among the very foremost, for the bright pro- 
 mise which he gave and which, so far as his brief 
 life permitted, he well and worthily fulfilled ! 
 
346 Sermons, 
 
 It was during this college life that his future 
 began to shape itself towards the ministry of the 
 gospel of Christ. Always a religious boy, and, with 
 the more mature and steady resolution of his 
 growing years, a religious man, he had not, thus 
 far, expected to become a minister. His choice 
 had been to study for the law, — expecting, doubt- 
 less, more or less distinctly, to find in that profes- 
 sion the avenue to political activity and usefulness 
 and fame. We, who knew so well his varied gifts, 
 especially the rare social qualities by which, wher- 
 ever he might go he won inevitable popularity, — 
 can not doubt that sure and honorable success 
 would have resulted had he chosen such a course. 
 It is safe to say, that in all human probability he 
 might have gained wealth and fame beyond most 
 men, — and gained them fairly too, and with no sacri- 
 fice of principle, if he had chosen. They might have 
 been his, almost for the asking. 
 
 But during his college course, and especially 
 as he came towards the close of it, and face to face 
 with the great world in which he was so soon to take 
 an active part, he soberly made up his mind to let 
 these chances go. Not without serious and self- 
 sacrificing resolve. He knew what it was to be a 
 minister of the gospel, — no man knew it better 
 than he. To be a minister's son is a good way to 
 find it out; to be the, son of a Home Missionary 
 
The Faithful Minister. 34/ 
 
 on a salary of four hundred dollars annually, is a 
 still better way. He was not ignorant how hard 
 the work is, what frequent fight to keep the wolf 
 from the door must needs be waged, how heart and 
 brain grow weary with the bearing of such burdens 
 as the pastoral office faithfully performed imposes^ 
 how the tired body faints, by reason of its insufficiency 
 for toil and care so almost more than human in 
 their nature. He knew that the surrender of am- 
 bitions not dishonorable, of wealth by which his 
 home might be made beautiful and happy, was 
 involved when he decided to become a minister. 
 But he decided, none the less. Deliberately con- 
 sidering the question — noticing, no doubt, as he 
 looked around upon his comrades, how many of 
 them were crowding the avenues of worldly activity, 
 how few were entering that harvest-field in which 
 the weary laborers were praying to the Lord to 
 send forth more ; talking the matter over and over 
 again with that one with whom he had the dearest 
 right to take such counsel, and perceiving how 
 much more good there might be wrought in the 
 office of the Christian ministry than in any other 
 calling ; quickened, moreover, by a time of religious 
 awakening and refreshment in the college com- 
 munity, and confirmed in his decision by what 
 seemed like the dying wish of the mother whom he 
 dearly loved, he chose— shall we not surely say — 
 the better part. 
 
348 Setmons. 
 
 There were still four years before he could be 
 ready for this chosen work. One year must be 
 spent in earning money with which he might pay 
 the debt incurred already in his education, and pro- 
 vide for his support in what remained of it. Then 
 he came to Andover, and at once by natural right 
 became the most conspicuous member of the 
 Seminary there. Here, after an interval of separa- 
 tion, during which I had been at the ends of the 
 earth, our acquaintance was renewed and our in- 
 timacy deepened. Hereafter, we were to walk side 
 by side, although with steps unequal, as dear 
 fellow servants in the ministry of Christ, in these 
 neighbor churches, — not to be greatly separated 
 till, at the summons of the Master's voice, one 
 should be taken and the other left. 
 
 I may with the less presumption associate myself 
 with him, even in your sacred remembrance, because 
 I love to think that I helped bring him to you. 
 I knew this church before he did. I assisted in 
 persuading him to come and see you. I was to be 
 ordained in March at Orange ; he came to spend 
 the Sunday previous with you, and to be present on 
 the following Wednesday at my ordination. When 
 that Wednesday came and he came with it, there 
 came, with it and him, perhaps a score of you who 
 had already learned to love him, whom he had 
 already learned to love. Even then, it was as good 
 
The Faithftd Minister. 54^ 
 
 as settled that he should be your pastor. It had 
 taken only the sight of him to settle the affections 
 of the church on him. It had taken only the sight 
 of the field, and of its needs and possibilities, and 
 of the little handful of resolute Christian men who 
 were endeavoring to occupy it, to settle his affection 
 on the church. Two months later, on the 23rd of 
 May, his birthday and mine, his ordination here 
 took place ; and he who, for a long time, had been 
 "our dear fellow servant," became thenceforth, "for 
 you, a faithful minister of Christ." 
 
 How faithful a minister of Jesus Christ, yourselves 
 are witnesses. It was a good time to begin one's 
 ministry, but it was a hard time. It was one of 
 those times of crisis which divide the ages ; what 
 the prophets of the Hebrew church were wont to 
 call a day of the Lord. In such a time, beside the 
 ordinary work of saving souls from sin, there was 
 also to be done the extraordinary work of saving a 
 nation from unrighteousness and from the conse- 
 quences of unrighteousness, and no small share of 
 that great work came on the Christian ministry. 
 To arouse, to stimulate, to guide the patriotism 
 of the imperilled nation ; to pray and not to faint 
 in the dark hours when great disaster came upon 
 our arms ; to point out fearlessly and clearly the 
 eternal principles of righteousness involved in the 
 great struggle ; and to interpret the lessons which 
 
3^0 Seimons. 
 
 God's outstretched hand and mighty arm were 
 teaching, — this work, besides the ministry of recon- 
 ciliation, of confirmation, of consolation to individual 
 souls, was laid upon us all. 
 
 To a man of sluggish temper and of cool, phleg- 
 matic spirit, it might be possible to put one's hand 
 to such a task as this without much sense of suffer- 
 ing ; but to a man like Holmes it was not possible 
 to come so near the fiery-cloudy pillar of the Lord 
 of Hosts, and not feel the brightness of the glory 
 which no flesh can look upon and live. Clad with 
 zeal as with a cloak, his zeal consumed him, as if, 
 to use the strong words of the Hebrew prophet, it 
 were eating him up. Even before he was ordained, 
 and while he was serving you with an occasional 
 ministry, his trumpet gave forth no uncertain 
 sound. There must be some here to night who 
 will remember the grand sermon which he preached 
 the Sunday following that memorable 19th day of 
 April, 1 86 1, when Massachusetts' dead were lying in 
 the streets of Baltimore. Do you remember how he 
 spoke his warning and his words of cheer : " And 
 now in this awful* contest, of which we have just 
 seen the beginning, and of which no man can see 
 the end, fear not, my brethren, neither be afraid. 
 This is a contest in which God is on our side. If 
 God is not with us, there is no God, God is dead!" 
 I wish that I could quote more of it. The ring of 
 
The Faithftd Minister. 35 1 
 
 those words was right manful, soldierly, Christian. 
 How much utterances such as his were worth, in 
 those days, and in this commonwealth, and in this 
 city, there are some of us who have not yet 
 forgotten ! 
 
 But after all, he only did this work of Christian 
 patriotism as he did everything. Whatsoever he 
 had to do, he did it with his might. He put 
 himself into his work, whether the work was 
 great or small. Only there was more of him, in 
 proportion as the need of the occasion was more 
 great. Whenever any great emergency kindled 
 and stirred him ; whenever the great deeps of his 
 strong soul were broken up, then voice, and eye, 
 and countenance, and sweeping arm, and manly 
 hand, and the whole being of the man were 
 eloquent and mighty. 
 
 It is time that I begm to point out, more ex- 
 plicitly, the qualities vvhich made him worthy of the 
 love we gave him, of the grief with which we gave 
 him up to go before us to the presence of the Lord, 
 (i) First of all, I bid you keep in mind \{\^ goodness. 
 In the catalogue of gifts and graces of the Spirit 
 which the Apostle Paul has given us, he mentions 
 "goodness" as a special quality, distinct from or sub- 
 ordinate to that charity which is the sum of all. It is 
 that willingness to be of use to others, that generous 
 kindness which, almost of course, gives help and 
 
352 SerfHons. 
 
 sympathy and strength. Every boy knows what it 
 is, when he sees it in the schoolmate whom he calls 
 "a real good fellow," when he sees the absence of it 
 in another whom he describes as "mean." It was 
 this quality in our dear friend which made him, when 
 he was a little boy of five or thereabouts, rush in, 
 between the older brother who was going to be 
 punished, and his father who was going to inflict the 
 punishment, with the generous outcry, " Let me 
 take it, father !" It was this quality which, as I 
 have grateful reason to remember, made him stay 
 with me so closely, care for me so tenderly, nurse 
 me and bring me home with such almost feminine 
 skill and kindness, when in our army experience, I 
 was taken perilously ill at Chattanooga. It was this 
 that made him put aside the flattering invitations 
 which came in upon him from so many churches 
 rich, conspicuous and cultured, to take his stand 
 with this mere handful of disciples in a field which 
 then was not attractive nor agreeable. It was this 
 which made him always so welcome in your homes, 
 beside the sick bed, in the chamber of the dying, in 
 the house of mourning. It was this which made it 
 easy for the inquiring, the perplexed and burdened 
 soul to ask his counsel and confide in him. It was 
 this which made him always quick in pity for the 
 poor, in manl)^ and indignant sympathy for the 
 oppressed. When, the other day, the sightless eyes 
 
The Faithful Minister. 353 
 
 of that old colored woman grew yet more dim with 
 sorrow at his funeral, and when she came to put her 
 trembling hand on his fair brow, it was a tribute 
 not so much to any splendor of his genius, as to 
 the simple goodness of his heart. And no one 
 looked upon that simple and pathetic spectacle with- 
 out the knowledge that the tribute was most fit and 
 beautiful ! 
 
 (2) I bid you to remember also, as the good gifts 
 of God, those intellectual traits by which he was 
 distinguished. If he had ever found the time to 
 cultivate the fine poetic taste and talent which was 
 given him, he would have left behind him some- 
 thing by which our literature would be permanently 
 richer. I think that not the least of the sacrifices 
 which he made to the work of the ministry was the 
 sacrifice of literary culture. You know that once, 
 afler he was settled here, and more than once, the 
 college which he loved so dearly called him back 
 to spend his life within its walls. The opportunity 
 was offered him to give his strength and time to 
 just the study which he loved most dearly, the study 
 of our mother tongue, and of its literature. It is 
 not improper, after this interval and on this occa- 
 sion, to say that the appointment to this work was 
 urged upon him with an earnestness which few 
 men could have resisted. The college officers, for 
 whom he had so deep a reverence ; his father, to 
 
354 Se7nions. 
 
 whom he gave always — from his infancy to his ma- 
 ture manhood of forty years, — such affectionate 
 and filial heed ; his most devoted friends, with 
 kindly importunity and remonstrance, joined to 
 urge upon him what his natural tastes and impulses 
 only too eagerly inclined him to accept. He was 
 told, — how truly ^the result has sorrowfully shown, 
 — that health and even life might fail him in the 
 arduous labors of his growing parish. He was told 
 what need there was, among the young men of the 
 college, of just the influence which he could bring 
 to bear upon them, of just the preaching he could 
 give in addition to the work of his professorship. 
 To almost any man it might have seemed that duty 
 lay, for once, just in the very line of inclination. 
 And indeed I almost wonder, to this day, how he 
 had strength and firmness to say "no!" He did 
 say "no." He chose, a second time, the simple 
 ministry of the gospel of Christ, rather than all the 
 chances of fine culture, of congenial study, of aca- 
 demic honor, of enduring literary fame. 
 
 This incident, which shows how those whose 
 judgment in such matters has authoritative value 
 held in esteem his intellectual gifts, makes need- 
 less any further commendation of them in this 
 presence. Only I must make special mention of 
 what was, in part, a quality of mind, and in part, a 
 quality of heart — his admirable humor. It was a 
 
The Faithful Mmister. 355 
 
 good gift of God. There is a kind of wit which is 
 unlovely and unclean. There is a humor which, 
 though bright, is sour and bitter. There is a sar- 
 casm which only scorches, and a satire which but 
 stings. But with him the wit was always good ; and 
 I might almost say the good was always witty. His 
 humor was pervasive, like a golden atmosphere. 
 It brightened you, half-imperceptibly, when you 
 could not see it, and you only knew that you were 
 somehow cheered and brightened.^ Sometimes it 
 was let loose from all restraint, and danced like the 
 gay dancers of the northern sky with flashes of 
 auroral brilliancy. He used it as a means of grace 
 to others. He would bring to the bedside of a sick 
 man sometimes such a pleasant, wholesome merri- 
 ment as would well nigh make him forget that he 
 was sick. I have seen him on the battle-field 
 speak some word of cheerful greeting to a group of 
 soldiers that would light their faces up with a con- 
 tagious animation, — and at the same time drop 
 some word of wise religious counsel which they 
 could not soon forget. "Well, boys," he said to 
 such a group, on that most memorable day when 
 we were doing what we could as Christian minis- 
 ters in Sherman's army at Resaca, "Well, boys, I 
 guess that you believe in General Sherman, don't 
 you .-* " And of course, from those tough veterans 
 who had followed their great leader on from vie- 
 
35^ Sermons. 
 
 tory to victory, through mountain passes, over hos- 
 tile batteries, across well-fought fields innumerable, 
 there came back the swift response, '* That's so ! 
 we believe in Sherman." " Ah, I thought so ; so 
 do I. Now, if we believe in the Lord Jesus Christ 
 just that way, we are all right ! " I do not know how 
 often I have thought of it, and used the incident to 
 show men what it is to trust in Christ. It is be- 
 lieving in Him, "just that way." 
 
 As I recall those days, I might prolong this 
 sermon, beyond all reasonable limits, with the rem- 
 iniscence of his quick and ready wit that played upon 
 the back ground of a solemn and pathetic earnest- 
 ness. We were quartered that same night in a rude 
 farm house, sleeping on the floor, and waked at one 
 time with the inextinguishable laughter of our 
 friend at'some droll nocturnal experience ; and again, 
 towards morning, by a rattle of incessant musketry, 
 so close, so rapid, so terrific, and succeeded by a 
 silence so intense in the black darkness of the night, 
 that power of speech was for a moment almost 
 gone. And I remember with what solemn earnest- 
 ness of pathos Holmes' voice broke our suspense 
 and cheered our souls, in the uncertainty of terror, 
 with the words " May God defend the right ! " It 
 was a good voice to listen to, and to say "Amen" to ! 
 
 Of course this is not the place, even if there 
 were time, and even if our heavy hearts would 
 
The Faithful Minister. 357 
 
 suffer us, to dwell on illustrations of the wit and 
 humor which distinguished him. I only say that it 
 was pure and genuine. When he used it as a 
 weapon against any sham, he hit, as one has said 
 
 " With shafts of gentle satire, kin to charity 
 That harmed not." 
 
 Keen enough his wit was, but I think I never 
 knew it bitter ; and shrewd enough his humor, but 
 I think I never knew it sour. It found a fit ex- 
 pression in his laugh which, who that heard it ever 
 will forget } It had the guilelessness of a little 
 child's laugh with the heartiness of a strong man's. 
 It had an honest, wholesome ring to it potent to 
 drive away all melancholy, morbid spirits, as ghosts 
 were said to vanish at the clear cock-crow. It was 
 contagious. I have seen a car full of people who 
 were utter strangers, and who had not any knowl- 
 edge what he laughed at, laugh in sympathy with 
 him because they could not help it. It was the 
 very soul of honest mirth. No one I think was 
 ever made the worse by any jest of his, or hurt by 
 his hilarity. 
 
 (3) It would not have been strange if, with such 
 gifts which all men greatly value, and which bring 
 so easily to their possessor flattery and deference, 
 and make him sought for and courted, his modesty 
 should have somehow suffered and an odious self- 
 conceit been fostered. But it was not so. His es- 
 
358 Sermons, 
 
 tiniate of what he did was low enough. Indeed I 
 know, though it may seem a strange thing to you 
 as I say it, that he suffered from a kind of self- 
 depreciation which is very hard to bear. When all 
 men were praising him, he was often troubled with 
 a sense of failure, burdened with the consciousness 
 of insufficiency. He needed sympathy, — he who 
 was so full of sympathy for others, — needed it him- 
 self often, when he had to do without it ; was de- 
 pendent on the encouragement and approbation of 
 others, and depressed for want of it. A self-com- 
 placent vanity would have weakened him of half his 
 power. An unselfish modesty made that power all 
 the greater, all the nobler. 
 
 (4) If there is one word which sums up and ex- 
 presses in itself his character, it seems to me that word 
 is genuineness. What he was, he was, all through. 
 His character was not gilded ; it was gold. His 
 mirth was honest mirth, not empty and not false. 
 It tickled all his soul. His pathos too was honest, 
 and manly. The fount of tears in him gave forth 
 no fictitious waters. When his clear eyes grew dim 
 and overflowed, as I have seen them more than once, 
 it was with honest sympathy, with manly sorrow. 
 That beautiful enthusiasm which lifted him, and us, 
 in our degree, who witnessed it and felt the power 
 of it, with him, so that he mounted up with wings 
 as eagles, so that his influence and eloquence were 
 
The Faithftd Minister. 359 
 
 like a rushing mighty wind, was genuine, — not 
 made to order and supplied upon demand. It was 
 his soul's life, — virtue going forth from him by a 
 spontaneous overflow. How genuine his religious 
 life was I need only remind you. In whomsoever 
 else there might be cant or sham or spuriousness, 
 there was not in him. The words of religious ex- 
 perience on his lips, when one heard them, which 
 was not often, were simple, honest words, spoken 
 with no whine of sickly sentimentalism, with no 
 groan of morbid fear. You know how bright, how 
 cheerful and how beautiful a thing the life of Christ 
 was seen to be as he expressed it in his own re- 
 flection of it. It was, (as some one said concerning 
 another,) it was like meeting a fresh breeze to meet 
 him ;— so it was, like being blown upon by some 
 strong west wind, which should chase away all 
 chafly emptiness, all miasmatic vapors from the souls 
 of those who came in contact with him. 
 
 (5) And now when for a moment I have asked 
 you to remember how his love to the Lord Jesus 
 Christ and his devotion to the service of that Lord 
 was, to his character, as is a crown upon a kingly 
 head, was on him like the beauty of the Holy one 
 himself, — then I may leave his memory to the rever- 
 ent silence of your own loving hearts. What he 
 might have been, if with all natural gifts, this one 
 thing had been lacking we need not stop to ask : 
 
360 Sermons. 
 
 for it was not lacking. To him the love of the Lord 
 Jesus Christ was a most personal and human love. 
 He loved him, — so it seems to me— as a son loves his 
 mother, as a wife loves her husband. To him, Jesus 
 of Nazareth was no mere historic figure, eighteen 
 centuries removed, no mere vanished presence far 
 beyond the solemn stars, but a most real, most per- 
 sonal, most present friend and Saviour ; — to whom 
 it was easy and most natural to speak, — to whom it 
 hard not to speak ; iij whom he trusted ; on whom was 
 he leaned ; for whom he could spend and be spent 
 with a pure and deep and lasting joy ! You who 
 have heard his voice in prayer so often and who know 
 with what strong hands he took hold of the mercy 
 seat ; you who have seen him at the table of the 
 Lord, when he would" be transfigured before you, 
 though he wist not that his face shown, you do not 
 need that I should tell you on what terms of most 
 familiar trust and sweetness he stood with the Lord 
 Jesus Christ. 
 
 Rest we now from this imperfect study of the life, 
 which has not really ceased, but which our mortal 
 •eyes can see no longer, to give humble thanks to 
 God that it was lived among us ; and that it was given 
 to our eyes to look on it so long. Its close was fit 
 and beautiful. He did not want to die. No really 
 healthful soul, it seems to me, will long to die. He 
 wanted to live, rather. He had work to do and 
 
The Faithful Minister. 361 
 
 powers of mind and heart with which to do it, if 
 only the flesh had not been so weak, if the body 
 had not failed. And so he would not give up try- 
 ing to get well, so long as there was any use in try ' 
 ing, and until the will of God concerning him was 
 plainly manifested. But when there was no longer 
 any doubt what God would have, he gave all up 
 with sweetest resignation, without one murmur or 
 complaint or fear. His heart's desire that he might 
 come back here to die was granted him. And to 
 us, who had not quite dared to ask for it, was granted 
 that we might look once more on the worn face 
 of our dear fellow servant, and might touch again 
 the poor thin hands which had grown weary in the 
 Master's work. "It is almost over" he said with 
 his old loving smile and gesture, when I came to 
 see him. " All the days of my appointed time will 
 I wait till my change come," he said again. " Heir 
 of God, and joint-heir with Christ," he more than 
 once repeated with a calm assurance. There were 
 no visions and no raptures and no ecstasies of senti- 
 ment ; but it was the pleasant land of Beulah in 
 which he was dwelling, and in which the angel 
 found him when he came to call him. Beautiful 
 upon the mountains were the feet of this glad mes- 
 senger when, in the freshness of his young en- 
 thusiam, he came among you bringing the good 
 tidings of salvation. And beautiful, still beautiful, 
 
 16 
 
262 Setmons. 
 
 his footsteps in the valley, when in the soberer 
 maturity of manhood, he departed bearing his 
 sheaves with him ! Be glad, O thou whose good 
 grey head is bent with sorrow for thy strong staff 
 taken, for thy beautiful bow broken, for the son of 
 thy right hand called home before thee ; be glad for 
 the good life he lived, for the good work he wrought, 
 for the good death he died ! Be comforted in thy 
 weary widowhood, O thou from whom the goodly 
 presence of the faithful husband and the happy 
 father of the little ones has vanished ! and give 
 thanks because for these few years of time, so 
 blessed a companionship was given, so grand a 
 work to share, so rare a sacrifice to help and bless, 
 such Christlike and enduring toil to comfort and to 
 guide. Grow up, O little ones ! to the inheritance 
 of sifch a legacy, the good name of the man whom 
 all men loved, to the inheritance in Christ which he 
 through faith and patience has attained to ! And 
 ye, the people of his love, for whom he was, and 
 by his spirit and his memory still is a faithful 
 minister of Jesus Christ ; ye, whose church grows 
 and shall grow so thriftily and greenly because the 
 fibers of its roots are in his grave, nay rather, let 
 me say, because his risen life inhabits and inspires 
 it, remember him and give God thanks for what he 
 was, for what he is, for what you too may be. 
 Take up his yet unfinished work. Catch up the 
 
The Faithful Minister.- 363 
 
 standard which his hands let fall when he was called 
 away. And when before the Master's face you stand 
 with him, and on you falls again that old familiar 
 smile transfigured, glorified, beatified, let him not 
 be ashamed of any one of you for whom he lived, 
 for whom he died. And then, as now, unto the 
 Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost be 
 glory, world without end ! Amen ! 
 
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 BERKELEY 
 
 Return to desk from which borrowed. 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 \ D.'52NlU 
 
 LD 21-100m-7,'52(A2528sl6)476