LIBRARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. 
 
 GIF'T OF" 
 
 Mrs. SARAH P. WALS WORTH. 
 
 
 
 Received October, 1894. 
 Accessions No . S^jTC .&/... Class No. 
 
 

 MINISTRY OF NATURE. 
 
 BY 
 
 REV. HUGH MACMILLAN, 
 |l 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 'Bible Teachings in Nature" " TJte True Vine" " Holidays on High Lands 
 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 
 WI7EESIIT 
 
 MACMILLAN AND CO. 
 
 1872. 
 
 {.The Right of Translation and Reproduction is reserved.] 
 
LONDON : 
 
 R. CLAV, SONS, AND TAYLOK, PRINTERS, 
 BREAD STREET HILL. 
 
[UHIVEESIT7] 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 IN the Nineteenth Psalm it is said, " The heavens 
 declare the glory of God ; and the firmament showeth 
 His handywork. Day unto day uttereth speech, and 
 night unto night showeth knowledge. There is no 
 speech nor language, when? their voice is not heard." 
 Much of the beauty and force of these words is lost 
 by the interpolation of the word where printed in 
 italics to show that it is not in the original. By 
 leaving it out, and adhering to the literal translation 
 of the Hebrew version, the whole meaning of the pas- 
 sage is altered, and instead of a commonplace truism 
 or a mere tautology we have the most significant 
 poetry. " There is no speech nor language ; their voice 
 is not heard." The universe of visible things has .no 
 faculty of speech no articulate language; and yet it 
 has the power of declaring the glory of God, and con- 
 veying instruction to every age and country. It is a 
 silent witness appealing to the mind of man in a way 
 not less but, when understood, even more forcible 
 than written or spoken language viz. by objective 
 signs and pictorial representations. Age after age the 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 sunlit and starlit pages of this older testament this 
 Bible of pictures have been unfolding their open 
 secret, and imparting their solemn lessons to the human 
 world. All nature is a language appealing to the senses 
 the " God said " of creation. We understand the 
 silent words, because He who formed the worlds created 
 our minds in the image of His own. Although its 
 voice is not heard, nature is nevertheless the universal 
 interpreter the older creature that first heard and 
 learned the speech of God, and therefore mediates 
 between God and man, and between man and man. 
 All human language is the reflection of nature ; its ar- 
 ticulate words the most prosaic as well as the most 
 metaphorical were originally borrowed from natural 
 sights and sounds. We cannot utter a single sentence 
 without drawing upon objective nature ; we cannot 
 converse with one another till nature steps in to give 
 us the alphabet of conversation, and to interpret our 
 mutual thoughts and feelings. We cannot pour out 
 our souls before God in prayer unless nature says to 
 us, as it were, "Take with you words, and turn to the 
 Lord." Nature is the interpreter of the Bible, not only 
 because it explains what is specifically metaphorical in 
 it, but because it explains all its language; it is the 
 mould in which its thoughts are cast the basis upon 
 which its sublimest revelations rest ; not only its em- 
 broidery, but the very warp of its substance. 
 
 St. Paul says that " the invisible things of God from 
 the creation of the world are clearly seen, being under- 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 stood by the things that are made, even His eternal 
 power and Godhead." In confirmation of this it may 
 be mentioned that the phenomena of nature enable us 
 to understand, so far as they can be understood by the 
 human mind, the omniscience and omnipresence of God. 
 Popular astronomy has made us familiar with the fact 
 that the ray of light sent forth from each star in the 
 firmament does not reach our eye at the same instant, 
 but after an interval longer or shorter, according 
 to the distance of the star ; and that, as a consequence 
 of this, we do not see the star as it actually is, but 
 as it was at the moment when the ray of light was 
 transmitted. Thus we see the moon as it was a second 
 and a quarter before ; the sun as it was about eight 
 minutes before ; Jupiter as it was fifty-two minutes pre- 
 viously ; the principal star in the constellation of the 
 Centaur as it was three years ago ; Vega as it was twelve 
 years ago ; Arcturus as it was twenty-six years ago ; the 
 Pole Star as it was forty-eight years ago ; Capella, as 
 it was seventy years ago ; and so on to a star of the 
 twelfth magnitude, which appears to us as it looked four 
 thousand years ago. All these orbs may have been 
 extinguished during the interval, and yet we continue to 
 see them shining still. It follows from these wonderful 
 facts that an observer gifted with the necessary optical 
 and other powers, might place himself at distances in the 
 starry firmament so graduated as to recall all the past 
 history of our world, and see it actually going on before 
 his eves. From a star of the twelfth magnitude he would 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 see the earth as it appeared in the time of Abraham, 
 and in Vega as it existed twelve years ago. Passing 
 swiftly from the one to the other, the whole history 
 of the world from the time of Abraham to the present 
 day would glance in rapid succession before him. 
 Indeed it is conceivable that this transition might be 
 made so swiftly that the whole wonderful panorama 
 would pass before him in an instant of time. Thus we 
 see how the universe still retains all the pictures of the 
 past which spread out farther and farther into space by 
 the vibration of light and may be made visible to eyes 
 endowed with the necessary powers, and placed at the 
 proper points of observation. By means of these actual 
 suppositions, we are able to conceive of the omniscience 
 of God regarding the past as a material all-surveying view. 
 We can comprehend in some measure how space and 
 time are to Him identical ; how " the beginning and the 
 end coalesce, and yet enclose everything intermediate." 
 
 " To your question now, 
 
 Which touches on the Workman and His work. 
 Let there be light, and there was light : 'tis so ; 
 For was, and is, and will be, are but is; 
 And all creation is one act at once, 
 The birth of light : but we that are not all, 
 As parts can see but parts, now this, now that, 
 And live, perforce, from thought to thought, and make 
 One act a phantom of succession ; thus 
 Our weakness somehow shapes the shadow, Time." 
 
 The omnipresence and yet distinct personality of God 
 is further illustrated to us in a striking manner by 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Dalton's law of the diffusion of gases. This law re- 
 veals to us that though gases gravitate like other 
 forms of matter, and exhibit among themselves even 
 greater differences of weight than either solids or liquids 
 yet nevertheless when they meet, each acts as a void 
 or a vacuum to the other, and they intermingle com- 
 pletely, while at the same time preserving their indi- 
 vidual identity, coalescing and coexisting, and yet 
 continuing separate and distinct. It is by means of 
 this beautiful law that our atmosphere is rendered fit 
 for respiration, that clouds are formed, and rain and 
 dew descend to nourish the life and beauty of the 
 earth. It is the one exception to the most universal 
 of all physical influences. The law of gravitation 
 acts everywhere else, but here it is suspended; and its 
 place supplied by another. Does it not therefore show 
 to us a glimpse of a Great Designer, overruling all 
 things for the good of His creatures? Behind this 
 wonderful physical fact, do we not see the spiritual 
 truth that is enshrined blazing forth? It is more 
 than a proof of beneficent design; it is a reflection 
 in material form of the image of God Himself. It 
 enables us to understand in some measure how in the 
 personal Jehovah we can live and move and have our 
 being ; how He forms if I may use a term so much 
 abused by the Pantheist the universal medium of all 
 spiritual existences, and yet loses nothing of that distinct 
 personality which He presents to each. 
 
 The great advances of natural science in these days 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 have placed in a much clearer light the symmetry and 
 order of external nature, and invested the idea of law 
 with an absolute majesty inconceivable at an earlier time. 
 A more perfect botany and zoology have taught us that 
 the grand characteristic feature of God's work in the 
 world of life is unity of type with variety of develop- 
 ment. The exceptional formations of which vegetable 
 teratology takes cognizance formerly regarded as 
 monsters to be shunned, as lawless deviations from 
 the ordinary rule, or at best as mere objects of curio- 
 sity, have now been found to be more in consonance 
 with typical structures than the normal formations 
 themselves. They are beautiful tendencies in the direc- 
 tion of the archetype, and are therefore great helps in 
 the study of morphology. For example, the fuchsia, 
 the woodruff, and the evening primrose have usually 
 only four petals and four sepals; but not a season 
 passes without many specimens of these flowers pro- 
 ducing five petals and five sepals. These so-called 
 monstrosities are in reality clear indications that the 
 plants in which they occur are striving to attain the 
 higher and fuller character of the rosaceous or quinary 
 type, and are in ordinary circumstances prevented from 
 doing so by some unknown law of non-development. 
 It is by these malformations, and not by the common 
 structures, that the plants in question are linked 
 with the plants above them. Thus the very exceptions 
 and deviations prove the law of vegetable life, and ap- 
 proach nearer to normal types instead of departing from 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 them. They show as truly as in the moral world that 
 where there is no law there is no transgression. So also 
 we find in zoology that there is no distinction save of 
 degree, between the laws regulating normal organization 
 and those by which so-called abnormal formations are 
 regulated. Virchow has referred all morbid products to 
 physiological types, and mentions that there is no new 
 structure produced in the organism by disease. The 
 cancer-cell, the pus-cell, and all other disease-produced 
 cells have their patterns in the cells of healthy structure.* 
 In the higher forms of animal life, the typical forms and 
 members observed in lower animals meet and are per- 
 fected ; and parts of their economy which exist but as 
 symbols in the lower orders, acquire use and significance 
 in the higher. The Darwinians, therefore, have seized 
 upon the wrong end of a great truth, expressed ages ago 
 by the Psalmist in these words " My substance was not 
 hid from thee, when I was made in secret, and curiously 
 wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. Thine eyes did 
 see my substance, yet being unperfect ; and in thy book 
 all my members were written, which in continuance 
 were fashioned, when as yet there was none of them." 
 
 An improved study of chemistry and mineralogy has 
 also added its confirmation of the doctrine that there 
 are no abrupt transitions in nature, and that distinctions 
 of class are never absolute. The late Professor Graham 
 has beautifully shown that the same matter may exist in 
 a colloidal or gelatinous, and in a crystalline state. In 
 * See Dr. Maudsley's "Body and Mind." 
 
INTROD UCTION. 
 
 the former condition matter has latent energy, and is 
 " the probable primary source of the force appearing in 
 the phenomena of vitality ; " in the latter condition 
 matter is purely statical and inert. And yet minerals, 
 such as the hydrated peroxides of the aluminous class, 
 may exist in the colloidal state \ while animal structures, 
 such as Funke's blood crystals, and animal substances, 
 such as the silicic acid of sponges, may pass into the 
 crystalline condition. Further, a more perfect geology 
 has abandoned the old ideas of convulsions and cata- 
 clysms, in favour of a theory of slow gradual develop- 
 ment of the earth's crust by forces similar to those 
 which exist at present ; and has enabled us to form a 
 grand conception of a life of the universe of a general 
 law which unites and directs the successive forms of 
 all organized beings. 
 
 All this exaltation of law in the natural world has had 
 a most beneficial reaction in the spiritual world. Evo- 
 lution, development, are the great doctrines of modern 
 science, containing a large measure of truth, though 
 pushed to an unwarrantable length ; and religion is 
 beginning to realize more and more the continuity and 
 unity of God's dealings with men in all ages. We see 
 that every part of the Bible witnesses in behalf of order 
 and gradual progression ; and that, as i-n the progressive 
 history of the earth, all that has been modifies all that 
 is, and all that will be, so in the whole of sacred history, 
 the more we can discern of connection and preparation, 
 the more we enter into God's true method of revealing 
 
INTRODUCTION. xiil 
 
 Himself. Our conception of God's character as the 
 unchangeable Jehovah who has no parallax, no 
 shadow of turning has also been exalted by this dis 
 cipline of natural study. We no longer believe that 
 He acts arbitrarily and capriciously. We see that there 
 is a reason in the nature of things for all that He does ; 
 that no blind fate has any place within the bounds of 
 the wide universe, but a stern and inflexible, because 
 immutable law, having its highest expression in the 
 death of the only-begotten Son of God. Our ideas 
 of heaven, too, have been greatly modified by the cor- 
 rectives supplied by the discoveries of science. We no 
 longer admit, like our ancestors, an abrupt transition 
 between this world and the next. We believe that 
 heaven lies latent in the present as the full-formed 
 flower in the bud of spring that heaven will be but 
 the perfection and full unveiling of the glory of the 
 earth. In the light of this idea we see a new meaning 
 in the words of the Apostle " For this corruptible 
 must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put 
 on immortality." We apply them to all nature, as well 
 as to man, the microcosm of nature. Our ancestors 
 looked upon matter as sinful, and upon nature as 
 accursed ; and therefore we cannot wonder that they 
 should have pictured heaven as a world having no con- 
 nection with this. But our investigations have taught 
 us to reverence nature more and more as the expression 
 of God's heart and mind to us to call nothing in it 
 which God has cleansed, common or unclean. Our 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 conceptions of matter have been greatly exalted and 
 idealized. We know more of its beauty and perfection, 
 and therefore we cannot believe that its marvellous 
 scenes and objects, of which the wisest and the best 
 of us know so lamentably little, shall pass away from 
 us for ever, after this brief and tantalizing glimpse of 
 them. There is nothing in nature that would parallel 
 such a waste. We cannot but cherish the hope that one 
 of the highest joys of the future state will be communion 
 with God in the more perfect comprehension of the 
 works of His hands ; and that as the earth has passed 
 through so many changes already, fitting it for a higher 
 and yet higher type of life, so it will pass safely 
 through the final change, and be revealed in all its 
 glory as the final home of the redeemed. 
 
 We should have expected that our Lord in coming to 
 our world would have employed images the most remote 
 from nature and human life ; that He would have given 
 to men a revelation from heaven something extra- 
 ordinary and altogether unknown to earth. But in 
 His teaching we find the things of God represented 
 by the simplest things of nature, and by the ordinary 
 occurrences of life. "Consider the lilies how they 
 g row " Behold the fowls how they are fed," were the 
 words with which He began His ministry, drawing 
 attention in them to the common things that ever since 
 the creation were uttering their unheeded lessons to the 
 world showing to us that it is not a revelation that 
 we need, but eyes to see that the revelation is every- 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 where around us, if we would only care to look at and 
 understand it. In the parables of the lily and the fowls, 
 the seed and the tree, the vine and the fishes, He dis- 
 closed to us the great fact which we are constantly for- 
 gettingthat Nature has a spiritual as well as a material 
 side that she exists not only for the natural uses of the 
 body, but also for the sustenance of the life of the soul. 
 This higher ministry explains all the beauty and won- 
 der of the world, which would otherwise be superfluous 
 and extravagant. As the servant of common household 
 wants, giving us bread to eat and water to drink, and 
 raiment to put on, and air to breathe, and soil to stand 
 and build upon, nature might have been clothed with 
 homely russet garments girded for toil; but as the 
 priestess of heaven, ministering in the holy place, ap- 
 pealing to the higher faculties of man, she is clothed like 
 Aaron with temple vestments ; and Solomon in all his 
 glory is not arrayed like her. Her ultimate purposes 
 are grander than her ordinary uses. Her forms are 
 evanescent, but her ministry is everlasting. Her grass 
 withereth and her flower fadeth, but the word of the 
 Lord that speaketh through her endureth for ever. The 
 truth which she teaches, and .the beauty which she forms, 
 are a part of the everlasting inheritance of the soul, and 
 become incorporated with its life for evermore. It 
 was a true instinct which made Manoah's wife exclaim 
 when her husband said" We shall surely die, because 
 we have seen God " " If the Lord were pleased to kill 
 us, He would not have received a burnt-offering and a 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 meat-offering at our hands, neither would He have showed 
 us all these things, nor would as at this time have told 
 us such things as these." And surely it is a true instinc- 
 tive belief in the human heart that God does not mean 
 to destroy us for ever when He clothes the earth with 
 so much beauty, and permits us to gaze upon scenes, 
 and study objects, whose wonders and glories appeal 
 to the highest wants and capabilities of our nature. 
 Surely by the glory of perishing nature He is training 
 our souls for the excelling glory of immortality. It 
 would be well for us if we understood this more, and 
 felt it deeper, for then the glory of nature would not 
 be wasted upon us, as it too often is, by reason of 
 our sordid pursuits ; and instead of emptying every- 
 thing of God, and banishing Him from His own creation 
 by our scientific studies, we should see everything re- 
 flecting His image, and hear the whole earth chanting 
 His praise. Wise men of science would be led by 
 their star, and shepherds and rustic labourers by their 
 toil, to the feet of the Divine Child, in whom are hid 
 all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge, and in 
 whose spirit alone can any human being hope to enter 
 the Kingdom of Heaven. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE SOWER , 
 
 POETRY. PALINGENESIS 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 FRAGRANCE 24 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 LEPROSY OF HOUSE AND GARMENTS 48 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 STONES CRYING OUT 76 
 
xviii CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THORNS THE CURSE OF ADAM AND THE CROWN OF CHRIST 97 
 POETRY. PREVENTING MERCIES . . . . 121 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 TREACLE, OR LIKE CURES LIKE .... .... 124 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 FEEDING ON ASHES .............. 142 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 SPIRITUAL CATHARISM ............ 1 66 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE ACTION OF PRESENCE ........... IQI 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 WINTER LEAVES ............... 213 
 
 POETRY. A GRAVE BESIDE A STREAM ..... 239 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 LIGHT IN DARKNESS ............. 240 
 
 POETRY. A WATERFALL ........... 265 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 SEEING AND NOT PERCEIVING 266 
 
 POETRY. ORIZABA . 286 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 LOSS AND GAIN IN MIRACLES 289 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 REJUVENESCENCE 321 
 
IVERSIT 
 
 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE SOWER. 
 " Behold a sower went forth to sow." MATTHEW xiii. 3. 
 
 nrHE parable of the Sower is the pattern, fundamental 
 parable, which furnishes the key to the right 
 understanding of all the rest. "Know ye not this 
 parable ? And how then will ye know all parables ? " 
 Like the illuminated initial of an old chronicle, which 
 illustrates the text, it appropriately introduces our Lord's 
 new method of instruction, and discloses in its own 
 features the type upon which that peculiar instruction 
 is modelled. The teaching of the parables was in 
 itself the sowing of seed, the diffusion of truth in its 
 seed-form, of brief pictorial sayings, compact and full 
 of meaning, suggesting much that it would take long 
 to tell, constructed for ordinary memory and common 
 use, and fitted, when falling into susceptible hearts, to 
 grow and develop their germinating fulness. The 
 parable of the Sower brings us back to the beginning 
 
 
 
2 THE MINISTRY OF NA TURE. [CHAP. 
 
 of life, to the seed-condition in which the organic 
 realm and the kingdom of heaven alike originate. As 
 in nature it is through the dispersion of seed that 
 the first form of life is established upon the basis 
 of dead inert matter, so it is by the diffusion of 
 spiritual truth that spiritual life is established upon the 
 basis of human nature. In both cases the sowing of 
 seed must be the first process towards a higher state 
 of things. Man's natural life depends upon the sowing 
 of corn. His whole civilization springs from it. His 
 spiritual discipline is carried on, as one of its primary 
 conditions, through the cultivation of the soil in the 
 sweat of his face which from first to last is an acted 
 parable, a great visible picture of the most true and 
 intimate connection between the outward husbandry of 
 the ground and the inward husbandry of the soul. 
 We see a beautiful illustration of Divine wisdom, in the 
 first fiat of creation being " Let there be light ; " seeing 
 that there is no element in the constitution of the earth 
 of such paramount importance as light, or radiant force, 
 developing and arranging its materials, modifying its 
 natural features, forming its climate, and supplying the 
 physical power needed for the maintenance of all life 
 and organization. We see an equally beautiful illustra- 
 tion of the same Wisdom which made the world, in the 
 first parable being that of the Sower; seeing that upon 
 the process of sowing, man's capacity of improvement 
 and capability of receiving spiritual instruction, and 
 consequently all the revelations and experiences of the 
 kingdom of heaven, depend. 
 
i.] THE SOWER. 
 
 In order to bring out the full significance of the few 
 simple words with which the parable opens, I shall 
 proceed to consider, very briefly, five things which seem 
 to me to be implied in them. 
 
 (i) Let us look first of all at the function of the 
 sower : " Behold a sower went forth to sow." In the 
 natural world, sowing is not the first agricultural pro- 
 cess. The ground in its natural state is not adapted 
 for the reception and growth of the seed. It is covered 
 with primeval forest, with the tangled native growth of 
 the wilderness, and this must be cut down and rooted 
 out. Huge boulders and the debris of rocks strew its 
 surface, and these must be removed. Marshes, with 
 their rank, noisome vegetation, occupy and disfigure 
 valuable space, and create a pestilential atmosphere, 
 and these have to be drained away. The soil, thus 
 reclaimed, must further be trenched, and exposed to 
 the influences of the weather. And then the ploughman 
 comes, and draws his straight and uniform furrows, in 
 which all the seed sown may have the same conditions of 
 growth, and produce an equally abundant harvest. But 
 it is a most significant circumstance, that our Saviour 
 does not commence His parabolic teaching with any of 
 these preparatory processes. The kingdom of heaven, 
 in its first announcement to men, He likens, not to 
 the pioneer in the pathless, homeless wilderness, not 
 to the woodman going forth with the axe, and cutting 
 down the primeval trees, in order to clear a space for 
 cultivation, not to the ploughman going forth to tear 
 up the soil, but to the sower going forth to sow. He 
 
 " 
 
4 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 presupposes a fixed and settled state of things, civilized 
 habits, a quiet scene of human industry and success. 
 The negative radical processes have already been com- 
 pleted. The voice crying in the wilderness, "Prepare 
 ye the way of the Lord," has been heard and obeyed. 
 The crooked places have been made straight, and the 
 rough places smooth, by the preparatory ministry of 
 Christ's witnesses in previous dispensations. The axe 
 of all the Prophets and godly men of old has been laid 
 at the root of, and lifted up upon, the thick obstructive 
 trees. The Forerunner, by his baptism of repentance, 
 has ploughed up the wild unproductive soil thus cleared. 
 The season of grace is further advanced : the fulness of 
 time is come. " The winter is past, the rain is over and 
 gone, the flowers appear on the earth ; the time of the 
 singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is 
 heard in the land." 
 
 It is in these circumstances that the sower goes 
 forth to sow ; and most beautifully does our Saviour in 
 this figure symbolize the character in which He Himself, 
 the great Sower, appeared on earth. The function of 
 the sower is not destructive, but constructive. His 
 mission is not to remove anything from the soil, to 
 tear it up, to destroy anything in it or on it; but to 
 cast into it something which it does not itself possess, 
 something that has life and will impart life. The sowing 
 of seed is the link by which dead mineral matter may 
 be raised up to form a part of the noble vesture of 
 life, by which the grain of sand may become a living 
 cell. It is, so to speak, the mediator between the 
 
I.] THE SOWER. 
 
 organic and inorganic kingdoms, the clasped hand in 
 which matter and life meet, and by means of which 
 they exchange mutual services. In the process of 
 growth the seed takes up the substances and forces 
 of the soil, imparts to them a higher character, stamps 
 them -with the impress of vitality, and converts them to 
 nobler uses. By the development of the seed, the 
 wilderness is converted into a garden, the bare barren 
 soil covered with beautiful and varied forms of life which 
 minister to the wants of higher creatures. Thus was 
 it with our Lord. The analogy applies to Him in the 
 most perfect way. He went forth not to destroy, but 
 to save ; not to condemn the world, but that . the world 
 through Him might have life. He came to impart to 
 our dead inert world, what it had lost out of it, the 
 seed-principle of righteousness, the germ of eternal life. 
 The human world had become divorced from the 
 kingdom of heaven. Losing its connection with the 
 higher spiritual realm, it had lost all its spiritual beauty 
 and organization. It had retrograded into the condition 
 of a barren, blighted wilderness, incapable of bringing 
 forth any fruit pleasing to God, or profitable to man. 
 It had become a waste of lifeless sand, where there was 
 no principle of cohesion or elevation; and the selfish 
 passions of men, like storms of the desert, whirled the 
 separate units about at their pleasure, with destructive 
 violence. All man's cultivation of this barren soil by 
 efforts of his own, in the absence of heavenly principles, 
 was as if a farmer should content himself with con- 
 tinually ploughing and harrowing the same field, without 
 
6 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 putting any seed into it. Jesus came to sow, in this 
 dry and parched land, the seed of holiness and 
 happiness. He Himself, the Sator et Semen, the Sower 
 and the Seed, was sown in our earth as the Seed of 
 heaven, concentrating in Himself all the fulness of 
 heaven, all the new future growth of the world. He 
 was the great Archetype which the germination of the 
 first seed sown on our earth typified, the explanation 
 of the mystery hid from the beginning. " Except a 
 corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth 
 alone ; but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit. He 
 that loveth his life shall lose it, but he that hateth his 
 life shall keep it unto life eternal." By His life on earth 
 He united earth to heaven, formed a new and better 
 creation upon the purified framework of the old. By 
 His growth in the midst of earthly conditions, and in 
 the mould of human experience, He spiritually organized, 
 as it were, what had fallen away from the order and 
 grace of God, what had become vitiated and disintegrated 
 by sin, what was fast going down to join the inert 
 kingdom of darkness and death, and made it capable 
 of receiving a higher character and doing a nobler 
 service. As St. Augustine says, " Christ appeared to 
 the men of a decrepit and dying world, that while all 
 around them was fading, they might through Him receive 
 a new and youthful life." His history was a mighty 
 expansive force, working outwardly from within, rege- 
 nerating everything which it touched, assimilating the 
 inner feelings of the mind and the outward relations oi 
 life. He did not seek by His words or works to uproot 
 
I.] THE SOWER. 
 
 what was already existing ; He did not destroy the forms 
 of society which prevailed at the time; He did not 
 remove the Jewish institutions, on the contrary, He 
 sanctified and renewed them. He conserved and amal- 
 gamated all that was simply human and homogeneous 
 with Himself. He would have gathered Jerusalem like 
 a brood of chickens under His protecting wings. He 
 would have saved the chosen people, if they would have 
 accepted His salvation. He was indeed the true Re- 
 former, making all things new by sowing in the world the 
 seed of heaven, and thus raising in it a heavenly growth ; 
 imparting to it a principle of spiritual power and beauty, 
 which by its development would counteract the decaying 
 tendency of the world, choke out its evils and abuses, and 
 so change its nature as to render it henceforth incapable 
 of reproducing the old evils. 
 
 And this was the function which our Lord assigned to 
 His disciples. He sent them forth not to uproot, but to 
 sow ; not to cut down, but to save ; not to destroy the 
 idolatries and superstitions of the surrounding nations, 
 but to preach the Gospel to every creature the new 
 power of the resurrection which had come into the world. 
 From the empty tomb of the Crucified One they took of 
 the corn of wheat that had died there, and brought forth 
 much fruit, and sowed it broadcast over the field of the 
 world, in fulfilment of the prophecy, " There shall be an 
 handful of corn in the earth upon the top of the moun- 
 tains : the fruit thereof shall shake like Lebanon ; and 
 they of the city shall flourish like grass of the earth. His 
 name shall endure for ever ; His name shall be continued 
 
8 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 as long as the sun, and men shall be blessed in Him ; all 
 nations shall call Him blessed." And assuredly this is 
 the function which our Lord assigns to all His servants 
 still. They are sowers going forth to sow. To the 
 wicked, which is His sword, He commits the task of 
 cutting down and extirpating evils and abuses ; but His 
 own people are to be ministers of salvation, not of de- 
 struction : to build up, and not to pull down ; to plant, 
 and not to uproot. They are to contend against evil and 
 error, not by using the weapons of the cynic and satirist, 
 but by sowing the peaceable fruits of righteousness. If 
 they confine themselves to testifying and protesting 
 against the ways of the world, they will inevitably fail. 
 The fate of Elijah's mission will be theirs. By the earth- 
 quake, the whirlwind, and the fire, he sought to destroy 
 the worship of Baal in Israel; and in deepest despon- 
 dency, under the juniper- tree in the wilderness, he be- 
 wailed his utter failure : " Take away my life, for I am 
 not better than my fathers." The ministry of Elisha, on 
 the other hand, was a wide success, because he employed 
 the still small voice of life and love. Thus it always is : 
 the effect of destructive means of good is great and start- 
 ling at the time, but it is not enduring. Such agencies do 
 not supply anything to occupy the place of that which 
 they take away ; and that nature, which abhors a vacuum, 
 hastens to fill up the blank with the old and habitual. 
 The soil that is cleared of thorns and thistles by fire and 
 sword, speedily covers itself with the old weeds again. 
 The evils cut down to the ground have deep tap-roots, 
 that go far beyond the reach of hoe and axe, and put 
 
I.] THE SOWER. 
 
 forth new shoots when stimulated by fresh temptations. 
 Only by the expulsive power of a new life can the old 
 evil growth be effectually and permanently destroyed. 
 The sowing of the seed of goodness even among the 
 rank growths of evil, will do in the spiritual world what 
 the growth of the wild flowers of England is doing at this 
 moment among the rank vegetation of New Zealand, and 
 what the fire and hoe of the settler have failed to do. We 
 are told that the common clover of our fields, tender as 
 it looks, is actually rooting out the formidable New Zea- 
 land flax, with its fibrous leaves and strong woody roots. 
 By the law of natural selection, as it were, in the spiritual 
 world, the stronger growth of heaven will extirpate the 
 feebler growth of earth. The godliness that is profitable 
 unto all things, having promise of the life that now is as 
 well as of that which is to come, will overcome in the end 
 the worldliness that is profitable only for a few things and 
 for this life. Let us learn then from this feature of the 
 parable our duty as Christ's disciples. While manifesting 
 righteous indignation, as He manifested it, when occa- 
 sion requires, our office in the main, as Christ's sowers, is 
 to overcome evil with good : not to abuse what we do 
 not like, but to show a more excellent way ; not to utter 
 woes against error, but to eliminate and construct the 
 measure of truth that may be mingled with it. We are 
 not to be busy in party antagonisms, but in building up 
 truth ; not to be striving under religious names to gain 
 adherents, but to win mankind to the love of Jesus. By 
 going forth to sow the Divine seed, we are to raise up, by 
 this new force, a world lying in the arms of the wicked 
 
io THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 one, into the higher and nobler life of communion and 
 fellowship with God. 
 
 (2) But I pass on, to consider next the loneliness of the 
 sower. Our Lord, lifting up His eyes when uttering this 
 parable, may have seen a little way off on the fertile 
 shores of the Lake of Galilee, a solitary husbandman, 
 busy scattering his wheat-seed in the furrows ; and there- 
 fore He said, " A sower went forth to sow." The sower 
 before our Saviour's eye was alone ; there was no one to 
 bear him company ; he was doing the work unaided. In 
 the natural world there is no more striking contrast than 
 between the sociableness of reaping and the solitude of 
 sowing. It is with man's work as it is with nature's 
 work : as one seed yields thirty or an hundred-fold in 
 the harvest, so one man can sow a great breadth of land, 
 which it will require a large company to reap. The 
 sower is always a lonely man ; he goes forth alone, he 
 toils all day alone, marching from furrow to furrow, 
 scattering the precious seed ; while the reaper is ever a 
 social man, working in a gay group, amid sympathetic 
 and jubilant gladness. So is it in the human world; 
 thousands reap the fruit of what one man sows. The 
 thought of one brain, the words of one mouth, the work 
 of one life, minister to the wants of countless multitudes 
 in future generations. Innumerable illustrations of this 
 great law of life, from every department of human ex- 
 perience, will occur to everyone. The triumphs of our 
 modern civilization, whose benefits are so widely diffused, 
 are the long results of the thought and toil of a few 
 solitary individuals, whom the world neglected and 
 
I.] THE SOWER. 
 
 forgot. The great Sower of our marvellous Christian 
 civilization was pre-eminently a lonely Man. From 
 the time when He said to His earthly parents in the 
 temple, who did not understand or sympathise with 
 Him, "Wist ye not that I must be about my Father's 
 business?" to the last hour of His life, when the ter- 
 rible desertion of His heavenly Father constrained Him 
 to cry out, " My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken 
 me?" He trod the winepress alone, and of the people 
 there was none with Him, He was far in advance of 
 His own age, far in advance of all ages. He was 
 alone amid His disciples, even when they were nearest 
 to Him, even when St. John lay upon His breast. We 
 hear Him saying, "What I do thou knowest not now, 
 but thou shalt know hereafter ; " and again, " Have I 
 been so long time with you, and yet hast thou not 
 known me, Philip?" They were not with Him in the 
 wilderness, when He obtained for all who believe in 
 Him His victory over Satan ; they could not watch with 
 Him in Gethsemane, when drinking our bitter cup to 
 the dregs; they all forsook Him and fled when He 
 was brought a prisoner before Pilate, that His dis- 
 ciples might be set free ; they stood afar off, beholding, 
 when He was crucified the Just for the unjust, that 
 He might bring sinners unto God. And as with the 
 Master, so with all His servants. They go forth ^at His 
 bidding alone to sow the seed of Gospel truth in the 
 world. The dreary sense of isolation often sinks deep 
 into their souls ; they feel painfully at times the want of 
 harmony between their circumstances and their feelings. 
 
12 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 How often has the bitter lament of Elijah at Horeb, 
 " And I, even I only, am left ; " and the sad words of St. 
 Paul, "I have no man like-minded, who will naturally 
 care for your state ; for all seek their own, not the things 
 which are Jesus Christ's," been wrung from the desolate 
 hearts of God's servants in all ages. St. Columba came 
 alone to diffuse the light of Christianity in our dark isle. 
 Dr. Judson went forth alone to convert the heathen 
 Burmese ; Brainerd was a solitary pioneer of the Gospel 
 among the savage Indian tribes of the far West ; Martyn 
 laboured single-handed among the Mahometans of the 
 far East ; the martyred Williams sowed alone the first 
 seed of life in the virgin isles of the South Sea. And in 
 our own country hundreds go forth alone into the streets 
 of the city, and the lanes and waysides of the country, 
 to cast precious seed wherever God's Providence opens 
 a furrow in the hard and stony ground. And what is 
 the result? Lift up the eyes, and where these solitary 
 sowers went forth we see fields white unto the harvest ; 
 we see thousands in the joy of harvest reaping the fruit 
 of what they had sown. And what encouragement is 
 there in such examples to us too to go forth to do good, 
 even though we have none to aid or cheer us on ! I fear 
 that in these days we forget that the sower must be a 
 lonely man. We are apt to put the conditions of reap- 
 ing in the place of those of sowing. We make our sower 
 go forth not alone, but in a crowd of fellow-labourers. 
 We say, not "A sower," but "Kband of sowers went 
 forth to sow." This is the age of associations; indivi- 
 dual effort is in a large manner superseded by corporate 
 
I.] THE SOWER. 13 
 
 action. We do nearly all our good by committees and 
 societies. Many, feeling unable altogether to escape 
 from the responsibility of doing something for the cause 
 of Christ, pay others to act as their substitutes : and 
 thus organizations are necessitated to accomplish me- 
 chanically, as it were, what can only be done effectually 
 by individual effort. Such organizations no doubt ac- 
 complish a vast amount of good, and it is not easy to 
 see how, in the present state of society, they can safely be 
 abolished ; but it must be acknowledged by all who have 
 thought deeply upon the subject, that Christian work has 
 been too exclusively directed into this channel, and that 
 it would be well if along with this concerted action there 
 were more of spontaneous and intelligent individual 
 exertion. What the world needs more than anything 
 else, more than gifts of money, rules, speeches, theories, 
 organizations, is the revival of personal agency; the 
 touch of a hand, the glance of an eye, the tone of a 
 voice, the sympathy of warm loving hearts, charged with 
 all healing influences, to sow the desolate wilderness 
 thickly with the good seed of the kingdom. We wish 
 the sower to go forth alone, and by individual contact 
 with the evil of the world, to remedy it by the influence 
 of personal faith and living love. Like Elijah, we want 
 the servant of Christ to lay his own living body, through 
 sympathy, upon the dead body of suffering and sin ; and 
 thus, by imparting warmth to it, prepare it for restoration 
 to spiritual life. Like a greater than Elijah, who identi- 
 fied Himself with the outcast of society, and said, "Zac- 
 cheus, come down, for to-day I must abide at thy house," 
 
14 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 we want every Christian, who is a debtor to all men, to 
 go home with the poor and the ignorant, and make their 
 trials his own, that thus he may truly relieve and bless 
 them. It is required that there should be a real cruci- 
 fixion with Christ in the blessed labours of the cross. 
 Such sowing would do far more good than any other 
 agency. He that sows and he that reaps in such a case 
 would rejoice together in the harvest. 
 
 (3) The season in which the sower goes forth to sow is 
 bleak and desolate. There is no foliage on the trees, no 
 verdure on the meadows. The sky overhead, when not 
 covered with dark clouds, is of a cold stony blue; the 
 sunshine has a brassy gleam, and shines mockingly upon 
 bare pastures ; and the spring breathes between her 
 hands, as it were, to keep warmth in the shivering 
 creatures she calls to life. Thus it is in the spiritual 
 world when the sower goes forth to sow. He labours 
 among the decay of nobler things, the remains of 
 former beauty now withered and sodden into deformity. 
 He finds nothing congenial ; the world looks coldly 
 upon his efforts ; bitter blasts of persecution assail him. 
 So was it with the Apostles in the spring-time of Chris- 
 tianity. All old things were passing away. Irreligion 
 and sensuality among the heathen had taken the place 
 of belief in the old rites and superstitions. Pharisaic 
 trivialities and Sadducean scepticism filled the minds of 
 the Jews, instead of the bright hopes of the Messianic 
 kingdom which their fathers had cherished. The scythe 
 of change had shorn off all the flower and glory of 
 every system social and religious, and only its stubble 
 
I.] THE SOWER. 15 
 
 was left rotting in the ground. On everything had 
 settled the "cold sad melancholy" which breathes in 
 the works of all the writers of the time. The climax of 
 human effort had been reached : nothing more could be 
 done ; and men had to rest behind the dreary conscious- 
 ness of failure in all that had been tried before. It was 
 in this chill pause of the world's progress, this bleak, 
 barren season of the world's history, that the Apostolic 
 sowers went forth to sow the seed of Gospel truth, and 
 begin a spring-time of grace, a new course of develop- 
 ment, which has gone on ever since. And He who sent 
 them forth on this blessed mission of the world's reno- 
 vation warned them of what treatment they should 
 receive while carrying it on. He told them that the 
 world's wintry winds would blow upon them ; that they 
 should be hated of all men for His sake. That peculiar 
 age can never return. The world can no more go back 
 or lose out of it the heavenly odours, the celestial con- 
 sciousness, the sense of other worlds, with which the 
 blossoming of Christ's life upon it and the preaching of 
 the Gospel have charged its atmosphere. We have 
 passed out of the stormy gloom of winter, and the day 
 is lengthening and brightening, but it is yet only the 
 winter solstice, and therefore the sower has still to 
 repeat within his narrower sphere the experience of the 
 Apostles. Christianity has yet effected but little. There 
 are vast spaces where its light has never penetrated; 
 there are seething masses among ourselves who are 
 utter strangers to its heavenly grace ; and so long as 
 this state of things exists, so long will there be a bleak 
 
1 6 THE MINISTR Y OF NA TURE. [c HAP. 
 
 and desolate season to the sower. But he who, dis- 
 mayed by these cold ungenial circumstances, takes his 
 ease at home, and refuses to go forth to create an Eden 
 in the waste, will not share in the joy of harvest. How 
 striking the contrast between the sowing and the reaping 
 time, between the bleak skies of March and the mellow 
 autumn sunshine ! And yet the one prepares the way 
 for the other. It is because the sower goes forth to 
 sow in the cold and gloom of early spring, that the 
 reaper gathers in his golden sheaves when earth is at 
 her fairest, and the full and perfected beauty of nature 
 seems like a dream of heaven. 
 
 (4) Sowing is a sorrowful process. The sower goes 
 forth weeping, bearing precious seed. He sows in tears ; 
 his act involves self-denial. The farmer sacrifices a cer- 
 tain portion of his corn in order to gain a harvest. That 
 seed-corn may be all that he has, all that remains of the 
 store which he had garnered up for household use. He 
 may feel tempted to withhold it, and to use it for his own 
 food ; but unless he casts it into the ground, and leaves 
 it in the cold furrow in spring, he cannot expect to get 
 the rich increase in autumn. Self-denial is absolutely 
 necessary on the part of the husbandman in order to 
 success in his business. He must part with a certain 
 amount of present good in order to obtain a larger 
 amount of future good. And so it is with the spiritual 
 sower. If he would succeed in his blessed work, he 
 must deny himself, take up his cross and follow Christ. 
 He must give away what costs him trouble, what causes 
 him loss, what he will miss. He must hate his own life, 
 
I.] THE SOWER. 17 
 
 surrender it as a fruit or seed to be sown and to die, in 
 order to become the beginning of a new and blessed 
 growth in others. Not only does the law of vegetation 
 teach him this ; the law of his own natural life adds its 
 emphatic Amen. It is written on the fleshly tables of 
 his own body. He lives by self-sacrifice. Some parts of 
 his body must die, in order that other parts may live. 
 The amount of activity which his life displays is exactly 
 measured by the amount of interstitial death which he 
 dies. It is interesting to notice how, in the process of 
 digestion for instance, the death of one part of the body 
 ministers to the life of the rest. Digestion in man is a 
 somewhat analogous process to germination in the seed. 
 As in the seed sown the nutritive part dies, or undergoes 
 a chemical change, in order to feed the embryo, so in 
 the human body the gastric juice is on the descending 
 career, and is truly dying matter. It is a part of the 
 incipient decay of the body set aside to react upon the 
 food, and prepare it for replacing those parts of the 
 tissues that have become effete and are being removed. 
 Thus, in order that our bodies may be nourished, there 
 must be the vicarious sacrifice of some portions of their 
 substance ; so in the great corporate body of mankind, 
 those who wish to fulfil the law of Christ must give up 
 for the good of others what would contribute to their 
 own comfort and well-being, if spiritual life and health 
 are to be generally diffused. They must make self- 
 sacrifice the law of their existence, and willing suffering 
 for others the medium of their own perfection. For " the 
 paradox ot the cross is the truth of life." 
 
 c 
 
1 8 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 But the process of sowing is also sorrowful because of 
 the uncertainty of the result. The seed lies long out of 
 sight in the cold dark soil ; and when it springs up, it is 
 exposed to a thousand casualties. Blight and mildew 
 lie in wait to seize upon the blade to wither it, upon the 
 ear to make it abortive, and upon the full corn in the 
 ear to convert its nutriment into dust and ashes. The 
 sun may scorch it, the caterpillar may devour it, the rain 
 may prevent its ripening, the wind may thrash it when it 
 is ripe, and, after all, the crop may not remunerate for 
 the toil and cost expended upon it. All these uncertain- 
 ties call for the exercise of faith and patience, and tend 
 to make the farmer provident and earnest. And is it 
 not so with the Christian sower ? Under whatever cir- 
 cumstances, whatever may be the nature of our Christian 
 work, the best and wisest of us can know but little of 
 what we are really doing. We may so toil, that, like 
 Elijah, we may be tempted to think that we have lived 
 in vain. We ourselves may see the fruit of what we 
 sow ; or we may labour, and others may enter into our 
 labours. Our outward immediate results may be worth- 
 less ; our spiritual results, unknown and unsuspected by 
 ourselves, may be precious and enduring. And we can 
 understand the reason why there should be this large 
 variable element in the problem of Christian activities. 
 Our ignorance of results is fitted to teach us greater faith 
 and more implicit dependence upon God. By this is 
 fostered all that is most precious and vital in our work. 
 We have the assurance that we are toiling under the 
 guidance of an unseen Hand, and in the strength of a 
 
I.] THE SOWER. 19 
 
 never-failing promise, and this prevents our work from 
 becoming a mere game of chance. And, on the other 
 hand, there is a zone of uncertainties about our toil, an 
 apparently capricious element in it : it is undertaken 
 amid conditions whose force we have no means of 
 calculating ; and this prevents our work from becoming 
 monotonous and mechanical, stimulates us to labour 
 faithfully and prayerfully, tarrying the Lord's leisure, 
 waiting patiently upon Him who can lift us above all 
 anxious care, for immediate or striking results. " In the 
 morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not 
 thine hand ; for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, 
 either this or that, or whether they both shall be alike 
 good." 
 
 (5) Lastly, I have to consider the nature of the seed 
 which the sower sows. The farmer sows the fruit of the 
 previous harvest. The end of one year of growth 
 becomes the beginning of a new year of growth. The 
 seed which he casts into the ground represents within 
 its living germ the result and reward of his toil and 
 patience for many a long month. It has cost him a 
 whole year of his life, a whole year's expenditure of 
 much that is best and worthiest in him. Much of him- 
 self has grown with its growth, and is garnered up in its 
 life. Nay, more, the seed which he sows is the embodi- 
 ment of all the toil and patience of all the cultivators 
 of the corn, back to " the world's grey fathers." Its 
 existence would not have been, had not all the living 
 generations of men toiled in the sweat of their brow to 
 perpetuate and improve it. Now so is it with the seed 
 c 2 
 
20 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 which the spiritual sower sows. It is Gospel truth, 
 quick with life, which has been handed down, with 
 enlarging significance and power, through the history of 
 kings and prophets and godly men of old, from the first 
 preacher of righteousness. It represents the cumulative 
 experience of all who at sundry times and in divers 
 manners revealed to their fellows the truth of God. It 
 represents all the spiritual growth and experience of the 
 sower himself. We cannot sow effectually in the spiritual 
 seed-field what is merely handed down to us, what we 
 merely buy with money, without any toil or trouble of 
 our own. We cannot go forth with the experience 
 of others to make it the seed of a spiritual harvest. 
 We must give our own life in our teaching, as the plant 
 gives its own life away in its seed be at once the sower 
 and the seed. The word of truth must be the word of 
 life, have our own life shrined in it, expressed by it, if 
 it is to become the means of life to others. The seed of 
 God's truth must have been sown in our own heart, 
 grown up there, gathered round it, and drawn up into 
 its fair expanding growth, from the soil and atmosphere 
 of our own being, our own peculiarities of spiritual ex- 
 perience; and from this fair plant of grace, that has 
 grown with our growth and ripened with our ripeness, 
 we take the seed that is to reproduce a similar growth of 
 blessedness in other hearts and lives. We sow what has 
 cost the toil and sweat of our own brow, what is the end 
 of our own discipline, what is the flower and fruit and 
 glory of our own life. It is only the seed that is thus 
 grown and ripened that will deeply influence those in 
 
I.) THE SOWER. 21 
 
 whose hearts it is sown, transforming and renewing 
 them, that, under the blessing of the Spirit, will prove 
 superior to all the powers of dead inert nature opposed' 
 to it, and in a more wonderful manner than even the 
 vegetable seed, pushing out of the way the strongest 
 obstacles, will find lodgment and room for growth, in 
 favourable soil, in all that is deepest and most lasting 
 in human nature. And now, who will go forth under 
 these conditions, and, counting the cost, undertake this 
 blessed work? God needs sowers ; for there are many 
 destroyers, many who cut down and blight, and add to 
 the barrenness and desolation which the curse of man's 
 sin first produced in the world. Few there are who are 
 fellow-workers with God in restoring the withered beauty, 
 in bringing back the Eden blessing of fertility and abun- 
 dance. Every reaper should be a sower ; every subject 
 of Divine grace should be a medium of it ; every one 
 who has gathered a spiritual harvest, however slight, 
 should sow the fruit of it; every one who has got good 
 should do good. The seed kept out of the soil will not 
 only abide alone, but it will part with the life that it has, 
 it will lose its germinating power ; it will rust and wither 
 and prove worthless : but if sown, it will preserve its life, 
 and be the parent of endless future life. " He that 
 loveth his life shall lose it ; but he that hateth his life 
 shall keep it unto life eternal." 
 
THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. 
 
 PALINGENESIS. 
 
 " For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone ; the flowers appear on 
 the earth ; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the 
 turtle is heard in our land." THE SONG OF SOLOMON, ii. n, 12. 
 
 THE fretful April tears are shed ; the dead things of the past, 
 
 Stirred by the cruel winds of March, are laid to rest at last. 
 
 Old memories nourish new-born hopes, as Autumn's withered leaves 
 
 Supply the warp on which the Spring its rich embroidery weaves, 
 
 And Nature's grand kaleidoscope discloses to the view 
 
 The broken toys of former joys restored with beauty new. 
 
 Once more has come the balmy May ; and by her magic spell 
 
 The shadows dark are charmed away that o'er my spirit fell. 
 
 I hear her low voice, as she lulls the lilies on her breast, 
 
 Or combs the pine-tree's flowing hair upon the mountain's crest. 
 
 I know her haunts in wood and wold ; for where her footsteps pass, 
 
 Springs up in Eden loveliness the radiance of the grass. 
 
 Each tree she kindles by her torch bursts into leafy flames, 
 
 And, like the sacred desert-bush, God's presence there proclaims. 
 
 The limes their foliage interlace along the lane's arcade, 
 
 And make a mystery of the place, with mingled light and shade. 
 
 The chestnuts spread their leafy palms in blessing on the air, 
 
 And from their minarets of bloom call all the trees to share. 
 
 With bridal blossoms, pure and sweet, the blushing orchards glow ; 
 
 And on the hawthorn-hedges lie soft wreaths of scented snow. 
 
 And where the amber clouds dissolve in raindrops brief and bright, 
 
 A world of fair and fragile flowers is born to life and light ; 
 
 Unnurtured by the care of man, they spring forth from the sod, 
 
 The free, glad offerings of the earth, the precious gifts of God. 
 
 The grey-haired daisies, ever young, transfigure every field, 
 
 And to the old, world-weary heart the joy of childhood yield. 
 
 The primroses, with lavish wealth, their golden largess spread, 
 
 And on the dusty way-side banks a mimic sunshine shed. 
 
 The fairy wind-flowers cluster thick beneath the sheltering trees, 
 
 And shine amid the twilight shades, the forest Pleiades. 
 
 The wall-flowers from the ruined fane their fiery censers swing, 
 
 And where rich incense once arose, a richer incense fling. 
 
PALINGENESIS. 23 
 
 Hid in their cloistered leaves, the nun-like lilies of the vale, 
 
 In fragrant ministries of love, their meek white lives exhale. 
 
 And dearer, stronger far than all the careworn heart to move, 
 
 The violets gleam among the moss, like eyes of those we love, 
 
 And speak to every lingering breeze, in voice of perfume low, 
 
 Of things that touch the soul to tears from days of long-ago. 
 
 Filled from the full cup of the hills, the free rejoicing streams 
 
 Are flashing down the long green vales, in showers of sunny gleams ; 
 
 And every little passing wave seems like a laughing tongue, 
 
 Revealing all the secret lore of Nature in its song. 
 
 From morn to night the air is bright with sheen of glancing wings, 
 
 And thrilled, like voices in a dream, with insect-murmurings. 
 
 The lark a winged rapture soars and sings at heaven's own gate ; 
 
 The blackbird tunes his mellow flute to cheer his patient mate. 
 
 And in the firwood's mystic shrine all day in ecstasy, 
 
 The thrush in tuneful chorus chants its "Benedicite." 
 
 While from the uplands far and faint, with spell all bosoms own, 
 
 Unchanged through changing ages comes the cuckoo's monotone. 
 
 God reigneth, and the earth is glad ! her large, self-conscious heart 
 
 A glowing tide of life and joy pours through each quickened part. 
 
 The very stones Hosannas cry ; the forests clap their hands ; 
 
 And in the benison of heaven each lifted face expands. 
 
 And day, too short for all its bliss, lingers with half-closed eyes 
 
 When every sunset cloud has paled, and moon and stars arise. 
 
 Awake and sing, ye in the dust that dwell ; for as the dew 
 
 Of herbs, a blessed dew from heaven our spirit shall renew; 
 
 And with a quickened pulse, we'll gaze upon the bright love-looks 
 
 That woo us all day long, from trees and flowers and murmuring 
 
 brooks ; 
 
 And see a beauteous, heavenly thought in everything around ; 
 And lessons learn of faith and hope from every sight and sound. 
 And, God ! our cold ungrateful hearts teach Thou to feel and know 
 How much Thy bounteous hand hath blessed this world of sin and 
 
 woe, 
 How deep's the debt of thankfulness that unto Thee we owe ! 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 FRAGRANCE. 
 
 "Thy plants are an orchard of pomegranates, with pleasant fruits ; 
 camphire, with spikenard, spikenard and saffron ; calamus and 
 cinnamon, with all trees of frankincense ; myrrh and aloes, 
 with all the chief spices." SOLOMON'S SONG, iv. 13, 14. 
 
 all man's sources of enjoyment, none display 
 more clearly the bountifulness of God than the 
 fragrant odours of nature. The world might have been 
 made entirely scentless, and yet every essential purpose 
 have been fulfilled. The vegetable kingdom, which is 
 the great storehouse of perfumes, might have performed 
 all its functions, and yet not a single plant exhaled an 
 agreeable odour. Fragrance seems so wholly superfluous 
 and accidental, that we cannot but infer that it was im- 
 parted to the objects which possess it, not for their 
 own sakes, but for our gratification. We regard, it as a 
 peculiar blessing, sent to us directly from the hand of our 
 heavenly Father ; and we are the more confirmed in 
 this idea by the fact that the human period is the prin- 
 cipal epoch of fragrant plants. Geologists inform us that 
 all the eras of the earth's history previous to the Upper 
 
CHAP. II.] FRAGRANCE. 25 
 
 Miocene were destitute of perfumes. Forests of club-' 
 mosses and ferns hid in their sombre bosom no bright- 
 eyed floweret, and shed from their verdant boughs no 
 scented richness on the passing breeze. Palms and 
 cycads, though ushering in the dawn of a brighter floral 
 day, produced no perfume-breathing blossoms. It is only 
 when we come to the periods immediately antecedent 
 to the human that we meet with an odoriferous flora. 
 God placed man in a sweet-scented garden as his home. 
 He adorned it with labiate flowers, modest in form and 
 sober in hue, but exhaling a rich aromatic fragrance at 
 every pore. And so widely and lavishly did He dis- 
 tribute this class of plants over the globe, that at the 
 present day in the south of Europe they form one nine- 
 teenth part of the flora ; in the tropics one twenty-sixth ; 
 and even on the chill plains of Lapland, out of every 
 thirty-five plants, one is a sweet-smelling labiate. In 
 our own country, the tribe is peculiarly abundant and 
 highly prized. Basil, marjoram, and lavender, balm and 
 mint, rosemary and thyme, are dear to every heart, and 
 are as fragrant as their own leaves with the sweetest 
 poetry of rural life. Banished now from the garden to 
 make room for rich and rare exotics, they still linger in 
 romantic, old-fashioned places, and are carefully culti- 
 vated by the cottager in his little plot of ground. In 
 quiet country villages the lavender-sprig still scents the 
 household linen ; the bouquet of balm or mint is still 
 carried to church with the Bible and the white pocket- 
 handkerchief, and mingles its familiar perfume with the 
 devotional exercises ; and the rosemary is still placed on 
 
26 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 the snowy shroud of the dead cottager, soothingly sugges- 
 tive of the sweet and lasting perfume left behind in the 
 dark tomb, by the Rose of Sharon, Mary's son, who once 
 lay there. All these are indeed "plants of grey renown," 
 as Shenstone calls them. They came into the world 
 with man ; they were created for man's special gratifica- 
 tion ; and they have continued ever since in intimate 
 fellowship with him as ministers to some of his simplest 
 and purest joys. They were prepared, too, against the 
 day of Christ's anointing and burying ; for some of 
 the finest spices with which Joseph of Arimathea em- 
 balmed his dead body, were products of the labiate 
 family ; and in this sacred use they have received a con- 
 secration which for ever hallows them to the Christian 
 heart. 
 
 No sense is more closely connected with the sphere of 
 soul than the sense of smell. It reaches more directly 
 and excites more powerfully the emotional nature than 
 either sight or hearing. It is an unexplored- avenue, 
 leading at once, and by a process too enchanting to 
 examine, into the ideal world. Its very vagueness and 
 indefiniteness make it more suggestive, and quicken the 
 mind's consciousness. Its agency is most subtle and 
 extensive going down to the very depths of our nature, 
 and back to the earliest dawn of life. Memory especially 
 is keenly susceptible to its influence. Every one knows 
 how instantaneously a particular odour will recall the 
 past circumstances associated with it. Trains of asso- 
 ciation long forgotten glimpses of old familiar things 
 mystic visions and memories of youth, beyond the reach 
 
II.] FRAGRANCE. 27 
 
 even of the subtle power of music are brought back by 
 the perfume of some little flower noteless to all others. 
 Looks of long ago answer to our gazing; touches of 
 hands, soft as a young trembling bird, lying in ours; 
 words that were brimful of tenderness ; joys that had 
 no sorrow in their satisfying fruitage, come back with 
 the passing breath of mignonette, caught from some 
 garden by the wayside in the sweet, sad autumn eve. 
 Lime-blossoms, murmurous with bees in the shady 
 avenue hyacinth-bells, standing sentinel beside some 
 sapphire spring violets, like children's eyes heavy with 
 sleep, on some greenwood bank each exhales a fra- 
 grance into which all the heart of Nature seems to melt, 
 and touches the soul with the memories of the years. It 
 is on account of this far-reaching power of fragrance, its 
 association with the deep and hidden things of the heart, 
 that so many of the Bible images appeal to our sense of 
 smell. It is regarded as an important means of com- 
 munication with heaven, and a direct avenue for the 
 soul's approach to the Father of spirits. The acceptance 
 of man's offerings by God is usually represented in the 
 anthropomorphism of the Bible, as finding its expression 
 in the sense of smell. When Noah offered the first 
 sacrifice after the flood, "the Lord," we are told, 
 "smelled a sweet savour." The drink-off wrings and the 
 various burnt-offerings prescribed by Levitical law, were 
 regarded as a sweet savour unto the Lord. Christ, the 
 antitype of these institutions, is spoken of as having given 
 himself for us an offering and a sacrifice to God for a 
 sweet-smelling savour. And the Apostle Paul, employing 
 
28 THE MINISTR Y OF NA TURE. [CHAP. 
 
 the same typical language, speaks of himself and the 
 other Apostles as " unto God a sweet savour of Christ in 
 them that are saved and in them that perish. To the 
 one we are the savour of death unto death, and to the 
 other the savour of life unto life." The Psalms and the 
 prophetic writings are full of the most beautiful and ex- 
 pressive metaphors, applied to the most solemn persons 
 and things, borrowed from perfumes ; while the whole of 
 the Song of Solomon is like an Oriental garden stocked 
 with delicious flowers, as grateful to the sense of smell as 
 to the sense of sight. 
 
 In the gorgeous ceremonial worship of the Hebrews, 
 none of the senses were excluded from taking part in the 
 service. The eye was appealed to by the rich vestments 
 and the splendid furniture of the holy place ; the ear was 
 exercised by the solemn sound of the trumpet, and the 
 voice of praise and prayer ; and the nostril was gratified 
 by the clouds of fragrant smoke that rose from the golden 
 altar of incense and rilled all the place. Of these, the 
 sense of smell occupied, perhaps, the most prominent 
 place; for, as we have seen, the acceptance of the 
 worship was always indicated by a symbol borrowed 
 from this sense : " The Lord smelled a sweet savour." 
 The prayer of the people ascended as incense, and the 
 lifting up of their hands as the evening sacrifice. The 
 offering of incense formed an essential part of the 
 religious service. The altar of incense occupied one of 
 the most conspicuous and honoured positions in the 
 tabernacle and temple. It stood between the table of 
 shewbread and the golden candlestick in the holy place. 
 
ii.] FRAGRANCE. 29 
 
 It was made of shlttim or cedar wood, overlaid with 
 plates of pure gold. On this altar a censer full of 
 incense poured forth its fragrant clouds every morning 
 and evening ; and yearly as the day of atonement came 
 round, when the high priest entered the holy of holies, 
 he filled a censer with live coals from the sacred fire on 
 the altar of burnt-offerings, and bore it into the sanc- 
 tuary, where he threw upon the burning coals the " sweet 
 incense beaten small," which he had brought in his 
 hand. Without this smoking censer he was forbidden, 
 on pain of death, to enter into the awful shrine of 
 Jehovah. Notwithstanding the washing of his flesh, and 
 the linen garments with which he was clothed, he dare 
 not enter the holiest of all with the blood of atonement, 
 unless he could personally shelter himself under a cloud 
 of incense. The ingredients of the holy incense are 
 described with great precision in Exodus : " Take unto 
 thee sweet spices, stacte, and onycha, and galbanum ; 
 these sweet spices with pure frankincense : of each shall 
 there be a like weight : and thou shalt make of it a 
 perfume, a confection after the art of the apothecary, 
 tempered together, pure and .holy." This mixture was 
 to be pounded into very small particles, and deposited as 
 a very holy thing in the tabernacle, before the ark of the 
 testimony, so that there might be a store of it always in 
 readiness. According to Rabbinical tradition, a priest 
 or Levite, one of the fifteen prefects of the temple, was 
 retained, whose special duty it was to prepare this 
 precious compound ; and a part of the temple was given 
 up to him for his use as a laboratory, called, from this 
 
30 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 circumstance, " the house of Abtines." So precious and 
 holy was this incense considered, that it was forbidden 
 to make a similar perfume for private use on pain of 
 death. 
 
 It has been supposed by some writers that incense 
 was invented for the purpose of concealing or neutral- 
 izing the noxious effluvia caused by the number of beasts 
 slaughtered every day in the sanctuary. Other writers 
 have attached a mystical import to it, and believed that 
 it was a symbol of the breath of the world arising in 
 praise to the Creator, the four ingredients of which it was 
 composed representing the four elements. While a third 
 class, looking upon the tabernacle as the palace of God, 
 the theocratic King of Israel, and the ark of the 
 covenant as His throne, regarded the incense as merely 
 corresponding to the perfume so lavishly employed about 
 the person and appointments of an Oriental monarch. 
 It may doubtless have been intended primarily to serve 
 these purposes and convey these meanings, but it derived 
 its chief importance in connection with the ceremonial 
 observances of the Mosaic ritual, from the fact of its 
 being the great symbol of prayer. It was offered at the 
 time when the people were in the posture and act of 
 devotion ; and their prayers were supposed to be pre- 
 sented to God by the priest, and to ascend to Him in 
 the smoke and odour of that fragrant offering. Scripture 
 is full of allusions to it, understood in this beautiful 
 symbolical sense. Acceptable, prevailing prayer was a 
 sweet-smelling savour to the Lord ; and prayer that was 
 unlawful, or hypocritical, or unprofitable, was rejected 
 
n.] FRAGRANCE. 
 
 with disgust by the organ of smell. " Incense is an abomi- 
 nation to me," said the Lord to the rebellious Jews in the 
 days of Isaiah. We are told that when the children of 
 Israel murmured against Moses and Aaron, on account 
 of the awful death of Korah and his associates, Aaron 
 took, at the command of Moses, a censer, and put fire 
 therein from off the altar, and put on incense, and stand- 
 ing between the living and the dead, swinging his censer, 
 he made an atonement for the people, so that the plague 
 was stayed. And Malachi, predicting the universal 
 spread of Jehovah's worship, sums up that worship under 
 the symbol of incense : " And in every place incense 
 shall be offered unto my name, and a pure offering ; for 
 my name shall be great among the heathen, saith the 
 Lord of hosts." Doubtless the Jews felt, when they saw 
 the soft white clouds of fragrant smoke rising slowly 
 from the altar of incense, as if the voice of the priest 
 were silently but eloquently pleading in that expressive 
 emblem in their behalf. The association of sound was 
 lost in that of smell, and the two senses were blended in 
 one. And this symbolical mode of supplication, as Dr. 
 George Wilson has remarked, had this one advantage 
 over spoken or written prayer, that it appealed to those 
 who were both blind and deaf, a class that are usually 
 shut out from social worship by their affliction. Those 
 who could not hear the prayers of the priest could join 
 in devotional exercises symbolized by incense, through 
 the medium of their sense of smell ; and the hallowed 
 impressions shut out by one avenue were admitted to 
 the mind and heart by another. 
 
32 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 The altar of incense stood in the closest connection 
 with the altar of burnt-offerings. The blood of the sin- 
 offering was sprinkled on the horns of both on the great 
 day of annual atonement. Morning and evening, as 
 soon as the sacrifice was offered, the censer poured forth 
 its fragrant contents ; so that the perpetual incense 
 within ascended simultaneously with the perpetual burnt- 
 offering outside. Without the live coals from off the 
 sacrificial altar, the sacred incense could not be kindled ; 
 and without the incense previously filling the holy place, 
 the blood of atonement from the altar of burnt-offering 
 could not be sprinkled on the mercy-seat. Beautiful 
 and expressive type of the perfect sacrifice and the all- 
 prevailing intercession of Jesus of intercession founded 
 upon atonement, of atonement preceded and followed 
 by intercession ! Beautiful and expressive type too of 
 the prayers of believers kindled by the altar-fire of 
 Christ's sacrifice, and perfumed by his merits ! No 
 fitter symbols could the Apostle John find to describe 
 the services of the upper sanctuary, even though in his 
 day the symbolic dispensation was waxing old and 
 passing away. The temple opened in heaven was a 
 counterpart of the old temple of Jerusalem ; and the 
 four-and-twenty elders clothed in white, who sat around 
 the throne of God, and represented the church of all 
 time, held in the one hand harps, and in the other golden 
 vials full of odours which are the prayers of saints 
 music and incense, audible sound, and visible vapour 
 and invisible fragrance eye, ear, and nostril mingling 
 together, and uniting in the fullest expression and 
 
II.] FRAGRANCE. 33 
 
 highest ideal of worship. Nor was this symbol alto- 
 gether an arbitrary one. There was a fitness in the nature 
 of things in incense being regarded as an embodied 
 prayer. Perfume is the breath of flowers, the sweetest 
 expression of their inmost being, an exhalation of their 
 very life. It is a sign of perfect purity, health, and 
 vigour; it is a symptom of full and joyous existence; for 
 disease, and decay, and death yield not pleasant but 
 revolting odours. And, as such, fragrance is in nature 
 what prayer is in the human world. Prayer is the breath 
 of life, the expression of the soul's best, holiest, and 
 heavenliest aspirations : the symptom and token of its 
 spiritual health, and right and happy relations with God. 
 The natural counterparts of the prayers that rise from 
 the closet and the sanctuary are to be found in the deli- 
 cious breathings, sweetening all the air, from gardens of 
 flowers, from clover crofts, or thymy hill-sides, or dim 
 pine-woods, and which seem to be grateful, unconscious 
 acknowledgments from the heart of nature for the timely 
 blessings of the great world-covenant; dew to refresh 
 and sunshine to quicken. 
 
 But not in the incense of prayer alone were perfumes 
 employed in the Old Testament economy. The oil with 
 which the altars and the sacred furniture of the taber- 
 nacle and temple were anointed with which priests 
 were consecrated for their holy service, and kings set 
 apart for their lofty dignity was richly perfumed. It 
 was composed of two parts of myrrh, two parts of cassia, 
 one part cinnamon, and one part sweet calamus, with a 
 sufficient quantity of the purest olive oil to give it the 
 
 i? 
 
34 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 proper consistency. Like incense, it was regarded as 
 peculiarly holy, and no other oil like it was allowed to be 
 made or used for common purposes on pain of death. 
 One of the sweetest names of Jesus is the Christ, the 
 Anointed One, because He was anointed with the 
 fragrant oil of consecration for His great work of 
 obedience and atonement. As our King and Great 
 High Priest, He received the outward symbolical chrism, 
 when the wise men of the East laid at His feet their gifts 
 of gold, myrrh, and frankincense in token of His royal 
 authority, and Mary and Nicodemus anointed Him with 
 precious spikenard and costly spices for his priestly work 
 of sacrifice. His name is as ointment poured forth; and 
 He is a bundle of myrrh to the heart that loves Him. But 
 not by the Jews alone were perfumes regarded as sacred. 
 All over the ancient world, hundreds of years before the 
 call of Abraham, the offering of perfumes formed a recog- 
 nized and indispensable part of religious worship ; and 
 the inspired writer alludes to this circumstance when he 
 says of the idols of the heathen, " Noses have they, but 
 they smell not." A practice so primitive and so universal, 
 like sacrifice itself, with which it was always associated, 
 must originally have been enjoined by Divine authority, 
 and handed down from the world's grey fathers to their 
 idolatrous descendants by oral tradition. Until very 
 recently the sweet-sedge was strewn on the floors of 
 some of the cathedrals of England, particularly Norwich 
 Cathedral; and exhaled when trodden a delicious fra- 
 grance, which filled the whole building as with incense. 
 In Norway I found several of the churches where I 
 
II.] FRAGRANCE. 35 
 
 worshipped, decorated in a similar manner with the fresh 
 leaves of the pine and birch, whose aromatic odour in 
 the crowded congregation was very refreshing. 
 
 Perfumes were associated with almost every action and 
 event in the life of the ancients. The free use of them 
 was peculiarly delightful and refreshing to the Orientals. 
 Their physical organization was more delicate and 
 sensitive to external influences than ours ; like well- 
 strung harps, they vibrated to every impression from 
 without. Not as mere luxuries or evidences of an effe- 
 minate taste, however, were perfumes employed by the 
 Hebrews and Egyptians. The parching and scorching 
 effect of a burning sun rendered them necessaries. They 
 counteracted the excessive evaporation of the moisture 
 of the body, relieved the feeling of lassitude and irrita- 
 tion produced by the heat, and restored vigour and 
 elasticity to the frame. A bouquet of fragrant flowers 
 was carried in the hand, or rooms were fumigated with 
 the odorous vapours of burning resins, or the body was 
 anointed with oil mixed with the aromatic qualities of 
 some plant extracted by boiling, or scents were worn 
 about the person in gold or silver boxes, or in alabaster 
 vials, in which the delicious aroma was best preserved. 
 Beds, garments, hair, and articles of furniture were 
 perfumed with myrrh, aloes, and cinnamon ; and so indis- 
 pensable were perfumes considered to the feminine toilet, 
 that the Talmud directs that one-tenth of a bride's dowry 
 be set apart for their purchase. When entertainments 
 were given, the rooms were fumigated ; and it was 
 customary for a servant to attend every guest as he 
 
 D 2 
 
30 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 seated himself, and to anoint his head, sprinkle his 
 person with rose-water, or apply incense to his face and 
 beard ; and so entirely was the use of perfumes on such 
 occasions in accordance with the customs of the people, 
 that the Saviour reproached Simon for the omission of 
 this mark of attention, leaving it to be performed by a 
 woman. And when death at last closed the scene, 
 odorous drugs were employed to check the progress ot 
 corruption, and to express the affection of friends. The 
 body was embalmed in a costly and elaborate manner ; 
 and even the cold noisome grave was made fragrant with 
 the multitude of spices symbols of faith which outlives 
 that perishing, and will therefore see its resurrection 
 emblems of the self-sacrificing love of Him who makes 
 all our gathered flowers to give forth a richer fragrance 
 through dying. And it is a beautiful coincidence in con- 
 nection with this custom, that Smyrna, the name of the 
 old suffering Asiatic Church, is derived from myrrh, one 
 of the principal gums employed in embalming the dead. 
 The virtues and excellences of this bruised Christian 
 Church, like aromatic spices, were to preserve it from 
 spiritual decay, from the second death. " He that over- 
 cometh shall not be hurt of the second death." 
 
 The ingredients of the Hebrew perfumes were prin- 
 cipally obtained in traffic from the Phoenicians. A few 
 of them were products of native plants, but the great 
 majority of them came from Arabia, India, and the spice 
 islands of the Indian Archipelago. So great was the 
 skill required in the mixing of these ingredients, in order 
 to form their most valued perfumes, that the art was a 
 
ii.] FRAGRANCE. 37 
 
 recognized profession among the Jews; and the rokechim, 
 translated " apothecary " in our version, was not a seller 
 of medicines as with us, but simply a maker of perfumes. 
 An immense quantity was annually manufactured and 
 consumed, of which we have a very significant indication) 
 in the fact that the holy anointing oil of the tabernacle 
 and temple was never made in smaller quantities than 
 750 ounces of solids compounded with five quarts of oil, 
 and was so profusely employed that, as we are told in 
 Psalm cxxxiii., when applied to Aaron's head it flowed 
 down over his beard and breast, to the very skirts of his 
 garments. So admirable was the quality of the better 
 and more costly kinds of perfumes, that they lasted unim- 
 paired for hundreds of years, and many of the alabaster 
 boxes, dug up from Egyptian tombs from two to three 
 thousand years old, still retain fragrant traces of the 
 ointments once contained in them. 
 
 Fragrance is not always diffused uniformly over the 
 whole plant. Sometimes it resides in the blossom, as in 
 the rose, the lily, the violet, and the jasmine ; sometimes 
 it is extracted from the wood, as in the sandal and cedar; 
 from the bark, as in cinnamon and cassia; from the root, 
 as in the iris ; from the fruit, as in bergamot ; from the 
 seed, as in anise, caraway, and Tonka bean ; and from 
 the leaves, as in orange, myrtle, thyme, and mint. It 
 depends upon volatile oils, which are often so subtle as 
 to elude the analysis of the chemist, and cannot be 
 imitated by artificial means. These oils are usually 
 composed of carbon and hydrogen only ; and, strange to 
 say, these elementary bodies enter in precisely the same 
 
38 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 proportions into the composition of scents that are 
 widely different. Thus, for instance, the oil of lemons, 
 of rosemary, and of the queen of the meadow, are 
 identical in composition with each other, and all of 
 them with the oil of turpentine ; the wide difference in 
 the qualities of these isomeric substances being, perhaps, 
 caused by the different arrangements of the same ultimate 
 particles. The reason why one plant is fragrant and 
 another of the same genus utterly scentless is still 
 involved in mystery. Indeed nothing apparently can be 
 more capricious than the distribution of the odoriferous 
 principle. In most plants the odour disappears at death, 
 but some, like the rose, retain it long after ; a single leaf 
 of melilot or verbena will for centuries preserve and 
 manifest its sweet odour without any apparent diminu- 
 tion. Some are scentless until withered, like the wood- 
 ruff; others give out their odour only when heated by 
 friction or burnt on the fire. Some evolve their fragrance 
 only when the sun is shining; others, like the melancholy 
 gilliflower and the night-blowing stock, give to the stars 
 and the dewy hours their soul of scent, and are therefore 
 favourite emblems of virtue smelling sweet in adversity, 
 of sorrow fragrant with the beauty of holiness and the 
 consolations of grace. Some exhale their richest 
 perfume when the sun shines with strongest heat, while 
 others require the falling dew and the gentle shower to 
 call forth their sweetness. It has been found, on a com- 
 parison of all the members of the vegetable kingdom, 
 that plants with white blossoms have a larger proportion 
 of odoriferous species than any others ; next in order 
 
ii.] FRAGRANCE. 39 
 
 comes red, then yellow and blue, and lastly orange and 
 brown, which are the least available to the perfumer, and 
 often indeed give a disagreeable odour. Thus purity and 
 sweetness are associated ; and God has bestowed more 
 abundant honour upon that hue which is the universal 
 symbol of holiness and heavenliness. And this order of 
 colour and fragrance is also the order of the seasons. 
 The flowers of spring are white and highly fragrant; 
 those of summer are red and yellow, but less fragrant ; 
 while those of autumn and winter exhibit the darker hues 
 of maturity and decay, and lose the freshness and perfume 
 of the early year. Of the natural families of plants, the 
 lily tribe comes first in point of fragrance, then the roses, 
 then the primroses, and lastly the campanulas or bell- 
 flowers. In warm countries the flowers are most highly 
 coloured, but in temperate countries they are most 
 odoriferous ; Europe having a larger proportion of sweet- 
 smelling species than either Asia or Africa. So volatile, 
 however, is the odoriferous principle, that it varies in 
 strength and delicacy according to soil and climate, so 
 that the same fragrant flower when grown in different 
 situations exhibits different degrees of perfume. The 
 lavender and peppermint of Surrey are far superior to 
 those grown in France, while the violet loses a large 
 portion of its scent among the orange and mignonette 
 gardens of Nice, and grows sweeter as we ascend towards 
 the slopes of the Alps. 
 
 Sweet-smelling flowers as a class are found in greatest 
 abundance in mountain regions. A large proportion of 
 the plants growing on the high pasturages of the Alps 
 
40 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAF. 
 
 are possessed of aromatic as well as medicinal properties ; 
 and I know nothing more delightful than, amid the pure 
 exhilarating atmosphere and the boundless prospects of 
 these lofty spots, to gaze upon the brilliant profusion 
 of blue, crimson, and golden blossoms that carpet the 
 ground, and to inhale their exquisite fragrance. On the 
 Scottish mountains we have several odorous plants such 
 as the Alpine forget-me-not blooming amid mists and 
 clouds on the highest summits, and breathing from its 
 lovely blue flowers a rich perfume. On the Andes we 
 have the Peruvian heliotrope, whose purple eyes turn 
 ever towards the sun, and give out an odour so sweet 
 and ravishing that the Indians regard it as a mystic spell 
 that opens to them the gates of the spirit world. On the 
 Sikkim Himalayas, the tiny Rhododendron nivale, which 
 grows at a loftier elevation than any other shrub in the 
 world, scents the air with its perfumed foliage when the 
 weather is genial. In the highest zone of the Peak of 
 Teneriffe, far above the clouds, amid the fierce drought 
 and unmitigated glare of that arid region, there grows 
 a wonderful bush found nowhere else in the world a 
 species of broom, called by the natives Retama, It is a 
 dull dingy-looking plant in autumn, harmonizing with the 
 dreary desolation around; but in spring it bursts out into 
 a rich profusion of milk-white blossoms, and fills all 
 the atmosphere with its delicious odour. Beehives are 
 brought up to it by the peasants from the valleys ; and 
 there for a few weeks the bees revel on the nectar, and 
 yield a highly-prized and fragrant honey. Mount Hybla, 
 in Sicily, is covered with an immense abundance of 
 
IT.] FRAGRANCE. 
 
 odoriferous flowers of all sorts ; and Hymettus, a moun- 
 tain in Attica, has always been celebrated in classic song 
 tor the quantity and excellence of its honey, gathered by 
 the bees from the fragrant plants that luxuriate there. 
 The costly spikenard of Scripture is obtained from a 
 curious shaggy-stemmed plant called Nardostachys Jata- 
 mansi, a kind of valerian, growing on the lofty mountains 
 in India, between the Ganges and the Jumna, some of 
 which are for six months covered with snow. All these 
 aromatic plants of the mountains require climatic circum- 
 stances for their growth, which art in most cases is inca- 
 pable of supplying ; and hence they cannot be cultivated 
 with any success. When brought down into the valleys, 
 they deteriorate, losing the brilliancy and fragrance of 
 their blossoms in a kind of home-sickness for the purer 
 air and brighter light of the far-off summits. 
 
 An assthetical link connects together sound and smell, 
 which has been noticed by the poets of all ages. There 
 are in all probability as many odours as there are sounds 
 affecting different individuals in very opposite ways ; 
 and just as in music there are different notes blending 
 naturally and harmoniously with each other, so in fra- 
 grance there are different odours that unite together and 
 produce different degrees of the same effect. There are 
 perfumes in the same key as it were, forming chords and 
 octaves of fragrance, which produce a very delightful im- 
 pression upon the olfactory nerves ; and the skill of the 
 perfumer is displayed in making these harmonious com- 
 binations of different congenial odours, so as that no 
 discordant scent shall leave a faint and sickly impression 
 
42 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 behind, when the general perfume has died away. But 
 not only is there an aesthetic connection between the two 
 senses of smell and hearing ; there is also a physiological 
 one, as indeed there is between all the senses. The 
 range of action in hearing is said to be greater than that 
 of smell, but an object can be smelt much farther than a 
 sound can be heard. The diffusiveness of perfumes is so 
 great, especially in warm climates, and in the morning 
 and evening hours, that the "odour of the balsam-yielding 
 Humeriades has been perceived at a distance of three 
 miles from the shores of South America ; a species of 
 Tetracera sends its perfumes as far from the island of 
 Cuba ; and the aroma of the Spice Islands is wafted out 
 to sea." 
 
 The affinity of our senses indicated even in our ordi- 
 nary mode of speaking of scenery, music, and odours, as 
 matters of taste, and applying the terms of one sense to 
 another shows to us how wonderfully versatile must be 
 that power of the mind by which it apprehends all 
 external nature. It also demonstrates the unity and 
 simplicity of the mind, and convincingly proves that if, 
 through such imperfect avenues of knowledge as our 
 senses furnish, it can take in so large and true an idea of 
 the world, when provided, in a higher state of existence, 
 with an organization perfectly adapted to its capacities, it 
 will obtain its knowledge of surrounding things directly 
 and immediately see no more through a glass, but face 
 to face, and know even as it is known. 
 
 Perfumes were at one time extensively employed as 
 remedial agents, particularly in cases of nervous disease. 
 
II.] FRAGRANCE. 
 
 They are still used freely in the sick-room, but more 
 for the purpose of refreshment and overpowering the 
 noxious odours of disease than as medicines. How 
 important they are in the economy of nature we learn 
 from the fact that when the Dutch cut down the spice 
 trees of Ternate, that island was immediately visited 
 with epidemics before unknown ; and it has been ascer- 
 tained that none of the persons employed in the per- 
 fume manufactories of London and Paris were attacked 
 by cholera during the last visitation. From the recent 
 experimental researches of Professor Mantegazza, we 
 learn the important fact that the essences of flowers 
 such as lavender, mint, thyme, bergamot, in contact with 
 atmospheric oxygen in sunlight, develop a very large 
 quantity of ozone, the purifying and health-inspiring 
 element in the air. And as a corollary from this fact, he 
 recommends the inhabitants of marshy districts, and of 
 places infected with animal exhalations, to surround 
 their houses with beds of the most odorous flowers, as 
 the powerful oxidizing influence of the ozone may 
 destroy those noxious influences. The beautiful and 
 world-wide custom of planting graves with trees and 
 adorning them with flowers, is for the same reason 
 attended with valuable sanitary results. Not only is the 
 eye cheered by their loveliness and the mind soothed by 
 their emblematical associations, but the atmosphere is 
 also improved ; and in this we have another illustration 
 of the great truth that what is practically wise is also 
 poetically beautiful. Many of the most delicious per- 
 fumes, however, are dangerous in large quantities. 
 
44 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 Taken in moderation they act as stimulants, exhilarating 
 the mental functions, and increasing bodily vigour. But 
 in larger and more concentrated doses they act as 
 poisons. The odour of the queen of the meadow has 
 sometimes proved fatal to persons who have incautiously 
 slept with a large bouquet of this flower in their bed- 
 rooms-. The peculiar odour of hayfields, due to a 
 narcotic substance called coumarin delightful and re- 
 freshing as it is to most people is supposed by some 
 medical men to be the cause of the hay-fever which 
 prevails when this odour is most largely developed 
 and diffused in the air ; while the otto of roses is to 
 many people sickening, and some cannot smell a rose 
 without headache. This shows us that odours were 
 intended to be used very sparingly. If we pursue them 
 as pleasures for their own sake, they will soon pall upon 
 us, however delicious ; and if we concentrate them so as 
 to produce a stronger sensation, they become actually 
 repulsive and sickening. God has given them to us to 
 cheer us in the path of duty, not to minister to our love 
 of pleasure and self-indulgence ; and in this respect the 
 laws of the unwritten revelation of Nature give their 
 sanction to the laws of the written revelation of the 
 Bible, indicating a common source and pointing to a 
 common issue. 
 
 From the observations I have thus made, it will be 
 seen that no sense has a monopoly in the things of 
 religion. Neither the ear nor the eye is exclusively 
 fitted to promote spiritual thoughts. Every means that 
 can rouse our emotional as well as our intellectua 1 
 
II.] FRAGRANCE. 45 
 
 nature for religion appeals to both, and comprehends 
 both within its sphere is of great value, and was given 
 for that very purpose. Constituted as we are, we cannot 
 afford to lose even the least of the helps to devotional 
 feeling which have been given to us so abundantly in 
 the use of our external senses, and in the objects and 
 symbols of nature. But here a word of caution is 
 necessary. We must remember that, although the 
 fragrance of nature is an aesthetical perception, it is 
 not necessarily a religious feeling. It excites pleasurable 
 sensations, but not pious emotions, in the unsanctified 
 heart. Minds of the darkest and hearts of the hardest 
 are found in scenes where eveiy object is brimful of 
 beauty, and every breeze is laden with perfume. It was 
 in a region of remarkable richness and loveliness, where 
 the scent of aromatic shrubs, unknown elsewhere in 
 Palestine, made the air a luxury to breathe, that Sodom 
 stood. But although fragrance cannot of itself, any 
 more than beauty of form or colour, stir up all that is 
 deepest in the human heart, and purify and elevate 
 human life, it is nevertheless a powerful auxiliary to 
 moral influences. It is melancholy to hear those who 
 dislike the doctrines of the Cross, dwelling with fond 
 eulogiums upon the beauties of nature, and making a 
 gospel of them. " Consider the lilies how they grow," 
 was the sermon of our Saviour, but it was preached to 
 disciples ; and if we are to profit by the teaching of the 
 field, it can only be when we make it, not a substitute 
 for the teaching of grace, but an appendix to it. If we 
 have been taught by the Spirit, and have a living religion 
 
46 THR MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 in our hearts of the Spirit's kindling, then the study and 
 enjoyment of God's works will not be a carnal, but a 
 spiritual exercise. It will not fill our minds with 
 temporal, but with eternal things ; and the soft influences 
 and tender ministrations of sunny hues, fair forms, and 
 breathing sweets, will quicken instead of deadening the 
 soul, and inspire at once greater love to God, and hatred 
 of that sin which ruins and defiles a world so beautiful 
 and good. 
 
 It is assuredly not without some great religious as well 
 as aesthetic purpose that God has imparted fragrance to 
 objects which, so far as we can see, might have done as 
 well without it, and invested almost every phase of rural 
 life with a perfume peculiar to itself. The toil of the farmer 
 is insensibly sweetened by the far-wafted odour of the 
 bean-field, and the rich honey-scent of the white clover 
 meadow, and the agreeable healthy perfume of the melilot 
 trefoil, the vernal grass, and the tedded hay ; when he 
 reaps his harvest he cuts down at the same time the wild 
 mint that grows among the corn, and his sheaves are made 
 fragrant with it. The forester is cheered by the sweet- 
 scented woodruff, and the resinous aroma of pine and 
 birch woods ; the care of the shepherd is lightened by 
 the warm fragrance of the heather hills and the thymy 
 slopes ; and the gardener's labour becomes a pleasure 
 when perfumed with the loving breath of a thousand 
 beautiful flower-lips. Not without deep spiritual sig- 
 nificance to man does the honeysuckle blow from its 
 golden trumpets a fragrant music ; or the vesper 
 lychnis exhale its soul of sweetness in the dewy fields 
 
II.] FRAGRANCE. 47 
 
 when twilight and peace descend hand in hand together 
 from heaven ; or the milk-white thorn load the air with 
 fragrant memories of the long summer days of child- 
 hood. All this Eden-breathing perfume of nature is 
 doubtless intended to lead our thoughts to God, and win 
 us from the earthly things that have bewitched us with 
 their sorceries. Jesus taught us to prize these beautiful 
 chalices of field and wood for the sake of the holy 
 thoughts, of which the heart is the interpreter, that 
 breathe from out their odorous loveliness. He renewed 
 the primeval blessing upon them. He consecrated them 
 with the oil of His own admiration, for the service of 
 that temple where everything speaks of His glory. And 
 if life should be a perpetual sacrament since He brake 
 the daily bread of it in His hands, the fragrant breath of 
 nature should be to us a perpetual incense rising up on 
 the earth's great altar, reminding us of that marvellous 
 Love that so loved the world, that He gave His only- 
 begotten Son a sacrifice for it. Each odour should be a 
 tender voice calling to us from every blossom and leaf, 
 to join in creation's worship as represented in symbol 
 before the throne by the four living creatures : " Thou 
 art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory, and honour, and 
 power; for Thou hast created all things, and for Thy 
 pleasure they are and were created." 
 
 " There's not a flower of spring, 
 That dies ere June, but vaunts itself allied 
 By issue and symbol, by significance 
 And correspondence, to the spirit-world 
 Outside the limits of our time and space, 
 Whereto we are bound." 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 LEPROSY OF HOUSE AND GARMENTS. 
 
 " When ye be come into the land of Canaan, which I give to you for 
 a possession, and I put the plague of leprosy in a house of the 
 land of your possession : and he that owneth the house shall 
 come and tell the priest, saying, It seemeth to me there is as 
 it were a plague in the house." LEVITICUS xiv. 34, 35. 
 
 ' ' And if the plague be greenish or reddish in the garment, or in 
 the skin, either in the warp, or in the woof, or in anything of 
 skin ; it is a plague of leprosy, and shall be shewed unto the 
 priest." LEVITICUS xiii. 49. 
 
 subjects have proved more perplexing to the 
 student of Scripture than the title of this chapter. 
 That human dwellings and garments should exhibit a 
 similar disease to that which infects the human body, 
 seems at first sight to be in the highest degree impro- 
 bable. Sceptics, taking advantage of this improbability, 
 have used it as an argument against the historical veracity 
 of the Mosaic record. They have regarded it as either 
 a mythical circumstance altogether, or as an ignorant and 
 superstitious exaggeration of some ordinary occurrence, 
 worthy only of ridicule or contempt Commentators, in 
 their endeavours to meet these objections, have been 
 
in.] LEPROSY OF HOUSE AND GARMENTS. 49 
 
 sorely driven to find some plausible explanation of the 
 phenomenon. All sorts of conjectures have been 
 hazarded, some of them very wide indeed of the mark. 
 Michaelis has suggested that the leprosy of the house 
 arose from a nitrous efflorescence produced on the sur- 
 face of the stone by saltpetre ; and mentions, in corro- 
 boration of this idea, a case that came under his own 
 observation, of a house in Liibeck, whose walls were 
 covered with this substance, which bore a strong resem- 
 blance to leprous patches. This efflorescence, however, 
 did not exhibit the remarkable reddish and greenish 
 spots described by Moses ; and, therefore, the explana- 
 tion of Michaelis must be rejected as inapplicable. The 
 same writer attributed the leprosy of garments to the 
 appearances assumed by clothes woven of wool taken 
 from sheep which had died of a particular disease, and 
 worn and fretted into holes. But this explanation falls 
 short of the case, for not only woollen garments, but also 
 those made of linen and leather, as well as bottles and 
 any article made of skin, were subject to the same 
 appearances. Other authors, with more plausibility, 
 have supposed the phenomenon in question to be simply 
 the taint or contagion of bodily leprosy imparted to the 
 clothes of the patient. It is, indeed, an unquestionable 
 truth, that in contagious diseases infection is conveyed by 
 the garments of the diseased ; but in the case before us 
 we are not at liberty to suppose that the leprous garments 
 were actually worn by lepers ; and even although they had 
 been so worn, the taint of leprosy could not have been 
 visible in greenish or reddish streaks. The opinion that 
 
 E 
 
50 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 it was a chemical effect produced by some imperfection in 
 the process of bleaching or dyeing, or that it was the fester- 
 ing stain caused by damp and want of ventilation, which, 
 when fairly established, mouldered and ultimately reduced 
 the cloth to pieces, is equally untenable, because it does 
 not answer fully the conditions of the Mosaic description. 
 All these conjectures, instead of shedding light upon the 
 subject, have only made it darker and more mysterious. 
 
 We are indebted to the recent discoveries of the 
 microscope for the first intimation of the true nature of 
 the leprosy of house and garments. In this instance, as 
 in many others, the historical truth of the Bible is con- 
 firmed by the very circumstance that seemed to militate 
 most against it; and even in its minutest details and 
 accounts of subsidiary phenomena, we find that it is 
 wonderfully accurate not merely according to a popular 
 but even to a philosophical standard. The cavils and 
 objections of science, falsely so called, are removed by 
 the revelations of a more advanced science ; and the 
 truths of nature and of the Bible are found to be one, as 
 God is one, and therefore as incapable of quenching 
 each other as one ray of light is incapable of quenching 
 another. A careful examination of the Levitical narra- 
 tive in the light of modern science leaves no room to 
 .doubt that the conclusions of Sommer, Kurtz, and other 
 recent authors, who attribute a vegetable origin to this 
 plague, are correct. The characteristics mentioned are 
 such as can belong only to plants. There are some 
 species of fungi which could have produced all the 
 effects described, and whose form and colour answer 
 
ill.] LEPROSY OF HOUSE AND GARMENTS. 51 
 
 admirably to the appearances presented by the leprosy. 
 We are therefore safe in believing that the phenomena in 
 question were caused by fungi. The language of Moses 
 is evidently popular, not scientific, and may therefore be 
 supposed to include not only different species, but even 
 different genera and orders of fungi as concerned in the 
 production of the effects described. In the following 
 pages I shall attribute the different appearances to what 
 I believe to be their specific causes, and arrange my 
 remarks under the two heads of first, the leprosy of the 
 house ; and second, the leprosy of garments. 
 
 The leprosy of the house consisted of reddish and 
 greenish patches. The reddish patches on the wall were 
 in all likelihood caused by the presence of a fungus, 
 well known under the common name of dry-rot, and 
 called by botanists Merulius lachrymans. Builders have 
 often painful evidence of the virulent and destructive 
 nature of this scourge. It is frequent all the year round, 
 being in this respect different from other fungi, which are 
 usually confined to the season of decay. It does not 
 affect one locality or object, but is universal and indis- 
 criminate in its attacks. The situations where it occurs 
 most frequently, however, are the inside of wainscoting, 
 the hollow trunks of trees, the timber of ships, and the 
 floors and beams of buildings. The conditions favour- 
 able for its growth and development are moisture, 
 warmth, and stagnant air, and where these exist it is 
 almost sure to appear. Most people are acquainted with 
 the effects of this fungus, but its form and appearance are 
 familiar to only a few. At first it makes its presence 
 
 E 2 
 
52 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 known by a few delicate white threads which radiate 
 from a common centre, and resemble a spider's web. 
 Gradually these threads become thicker and closer, co- 
 alescing more and more, until at last they form a dense 
 cottony cushion of yellowish-white colour and roundish 
 shape. The size of this vegetable cushion varies from 
 an inch to eight inches in diameter, according as it has 
 room to develop itself and is supplied with the appro- 
 priate pabulum. Hundreds of such sponge-like cushions 
 may be seen in places infected by the disease oozing out 
 through interstices in the floor or wall. At a later stage 
 of growth, the fungus develops over its whole surface a 
 number of fine orange or reddish-brown veins, forming 
 irregular folds, most frequently so arranged as to have 
 the appearance of pores, and distilling, when perfect, 
 drops of water, whence its specific name of lachrymans, 
 or weeping. When fully matured it produces an im- 
 mense number of rusty seeds, so minute as to be invi- 
 sible to the naked eye, which are diffused throughout the 
 atmosphere, and are ever ready to alight and germinate 
 in suitable circumstances. If once established, dry-rot 
 spreads with amazing rapidity, destroying the best houses 
 in a very short time. The law regarding it in Leviticus 
 is founded upon this property; seven days only were 
 allowed for its development, so that its true nature might 
 be placed beyond doubt. " Then the priest shall go out 
 of the house to the door of the house, and shut up the 
 house seven days : and the priest shall come again the 
 seventh day and shal-1 look, and behold if the plague be 
 spread in the walls of the house," &c. 
 
in.] LEPROSY OF HOUSE AND GARMENTS. 53 
 
 The precautions here adopted are in entire accord- 
 ance with the nature and habits of fungi. By empty- 
 ing the house of its furniture, shutting the doors and 
 windows, and excluding air and light, the very con- 
 ditions were provided in which the dry-rot would luxu- 
 riate and come to maturity. If the walls were completely 
 impregnated with its seeds and spawn, this short 
 period of trial would amply suffice to show the fact, 
 and the building might then safely be condemned to 
 undergo a process of purification. The effect which 
 dry-rot produces upon timber is to render it useless by 
 destroying its elasticity and toughness, so that it can- 
 not resist any pressure, and gradually crumbles away 
 into dry brown dust. So virulent is its nature that it 
 extends from the wood-work of a house even to the 
 walls, and, by insinuating itself between the bricks or 
 stones, vegetates through the whole structure, and reduces 
 it to a damp and mouldering state. There are no means 
 of restoring rotten timber to a sound condition, and the 
 dry-rot can only be eradicated by removing the decayed 
 and affected parts, clearing away all the spawn, and 
 destroying the germs with which the plaster and the 
 other materials of the walls may have been impregnated. 
 For this purpose the processes of kyanizing and burnet- 
 izing have been recommended that is, washing the walls 
 or the wood-work with a strong solution of corrosive sub- 
 limate or chloride of zinc. If the dry-rot is not fairly 
 established in a house, it may be removed with tolerable 
 ease by these processes ; should the disease, however, 
 have become wide-spread and deep-seated, no means of 
 
54 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 dealing with the evil can be depended upon, except that 
 of removing altogether the corrupted and contagious 
 matter, and admitting a free circulation of air. This was 
 exactly what the Jewish priest was commanded to do : 
 " Then the priest shall command that they take away the 
 stones in which the plague is, and they shall cast them 
 into an unclean place without the city: and he shall 
 cause the house to be scraped within round about, and 
 they shall pour out the dust that they scrape off without 
 the city into an unclean place : and they shall take other 
 stones and put them in the place of those stones ; and 
 he shall take other mortar, and shall plaster the house." 
 It often happens, however, that even this severe opera- 
 tion proves ineffectual ; and after repeated repairs of the 
 same nature, it is found that the building is so hopelessly 
 ruined that it must be abandoned and dismantled : 
 "And if the plague come again, and break out in the 
 house, after that he hath taken away the stones, and 
 after he hath scraped the house, and after it is plastered ; 
 then the priest shall come" and look, and, behold, if the 
 plague be spread in the house, it is a fretting leprosy in 
 the house : it is unclean. And he shall break down the 
 house, the stones of it, and the timber thereof, and all 
 the mortar of the house ; and he shall carry them forth 
 out of the city into an unclean place." In confirmation 
 of this Professor Burnet says : " I knew a house in 
 which the rot gained admittance, and which, during the 
 four years we rented it, had the parlours twice wains- 
 coted, and a new flight of stairs, the dry-rot having 
 rendered it unsafe to go from the ground-floor to 
 
in.] LEPROSY OF HOUSE AND GARMENTS. 55 
 
 the bed-rooms. Every precaution was taken to remove 
 the decaying timbers when the new work was done ; yet 
 the dry-rot so rapidly gained strength that the house was 
 ultimately pulled down. Some of my books, which 
 suffered least, and which I still retain, bear mournful 
 impressions of its ruthless hand ; others were so much 
 affected that the leaves resemble tinder, and when the 
 volumes were opened fell out in dust or fragments." 
 The ships in the Crimea suffered more from dry-rot than 
 from the ravages of fire or the shot and shells of the 
 enemy ; and many of the best and most solid-looking 
 houses are rendered year after year uninhabitable by it. 
 The wood is often deeply impregnated with its spawn 
 before it is used j the green patches that frequently occur 
 in the grain of the wood piled up in the timber-yards 
 being indications of its presence. When exposed to the 
 elements, the spawn is prevented from developing ; but 
 when the wood in which it is seen is employed in 
 domestic buildings, and shut up in close ill-ventilated 
 places, it speedily reveals its true nature, and spreads 
 like wild-fire. 
 
 If the ravages of this plague are so great in this 
 country, where the climate is temperate, and the houses 
 generally dry, well-drained, and substantially built, what 
 must they be in Eastern countries, where the dwellings 
 are hastily constructed of almost any materials that come 
 readily to hand of loose stones daubed with untem- 
 pered mortar of mud and sun-burnt bricks mingled with 
 chopped straw and where the climate, especially during 
 the rainy season, is very close and moist, developing 
 
56 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 every kind of cryptogamic vegetation in the utmost 
 luxuriance ? Dr. Thomson, in " The Land and the 
 Book," mentions that the upper rooms of the houses in 
 Palestine, if not constantly ventilated, become quickly 
 covered with mould, and are unfit to live in. In many 
 cases the roofs of the houses are little better than earth 
 rolled hard, and it is by no means uncommon to see 
 grass springing into a short-lived existence upon them. 
 Such habitations must be damp and peculiarly subject to 
 the infection of fungi. During the months of November 
 and December especially, fungi make their appearance in 
 the wretched ephemeral abodes of the poorer classes; 
 and in the walls of many a dwelling at the present day 
 may be seen the same leprous appearances described by 
 Moses three thousand years ago. When the Israelites 
 entered Palestine, they occupied the dwellings of the dis- 
 possessed aboriginal inhabitants, instead of building new 
 houses for themselves. And in these dwellings, as the 
 Canaanites lived in the midst of moral and physical 
 impurity, and were moreover ignorant of all sanitary 
 conditions, the plague of leprosy would be very apt to 
 manifest itself. The Bible speaks of it as sent expressly 
 by God himself: "When ye be come into the land of 
 Canaan, which I give to you for a possession, and I put the 
 plague of leprosy in a house of the land of your posses- 
 sion." It was so sent in mercy and not in judgment, to 
 show to them, by a palpable proof appealing to the eye, 
 what could not be so well revealed by other evidence. 
 It was the visible manifestation of a hidden insidious 
 unwholesomeness ; the breaking out, as it were, of an 
 
III.] LEPROSY OF HOUSE AND GARMENTS. 57 
 
 internal and universal disease. It directed attention to 
 the unhealthy character of the house, and stimulated 
 inquiry as to how it could be remedied. Whereas if no 
 such abnormal appearance presented itself, the inhabit- 
 ants might remain unconsciously in the midst of condi- 
 tions which would slowly but surely undermine their 
 health, and in the end prove fatal. 
 
 In the Levitical narrative we read that in the walls of 
 the affected houses there were greenish as well as reddish 
 streaks. These greenish streaks were caused by a much 
 humbler kind of fungus than the Merulius lachrymans, 
 or dry-rot, concerned in the production of the reddish 
 streaks. Every one is familiar with the common green 
 mould, or Penidllium glaucum of botanists. This fungus 
 is extremely abundant everywhere, and seems to have 
 been no less general in the ancient world, for we find 
 traces of it pretty frequently in amber, mixed with frag- 
 ments of lichens and mosses. It grows on all kinds of 
 decaying substances, and is very protean in its appear- 
 ance, assuming different forms according to the nature of 
 the body or situation which it affects. To the naked eye 
 it is a mere greenish downy crust spreading over a decay- 
 ing surface ; but under the microscope it presents a 
 singularly lovely spectacle. The little patch of dusty 
 cobweb is transformed into a fairy forest of the most 
 exquisite shapes. Hundreds of delicate, transparent 
 stalks rise up from creeping interlacing roots of snowy 
 purity, crowned with bundles of slender hairs, each like 
 a miniature painter's brush. Interspersed among these 
 hairs, which under a higher power of the microscope are 
 
58 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 seen to be somewhat intricately branched, occur greenish 
 dust-like particles, which are the sporidia, or seed-cases, 
 containing in their interior the excessively minute and 
 impalpable spores or germs by which the species is per- 
 petuated. A more entrancing sight cannot be seen than 
 these Liliputian groves of fungoid vegetation spreading 
 over a decaying crust of bread, or a damp, mouldy old 
 shoe, or the surface of a neglected pot of preserves. 
 Often when coming home, wearied and surfeited by the 
 inexhaustible enjoyments of a summer ramble, has my 
 sense of God's power and love been revived and 
 quickened by the microscopic examination of a frag- 
 ment of rubbish thrown away into some dark corner ; 
 and I have felt constrained to acknowledge that the 
 glories of the outer world of sense and sight, illuminated 
 by the summer sun, sank into insignificance when com- 
 pared with the spiritudle vegetation which bloomed 
 unseen beyond the reach of sunshine and dew, and 
 covered with its mantle of loveliness the unsightly 
 ravages of death and decay. I have gazed for hours 
 unweariedly upon such astonishing miracles of nature 
 wrought within the precincts of man's own home, finding 
 new proofs of design, new charms of hue and form and 
 grouping, disclosing themselves every moment. Many 
 of the strange weird-looking trees seemed to be growing 
 as I gazed, lengthening their stalks upwards and spread- 
 ing their roots downwards; here and there tree-stems 
 falling, and crushing others in their fall, opening up a 
 glade in the forest, and cumbering the ground with their 
 fallen trunks and old rotten-looking stumps ; while ever 
 
in.J LEPROSY OF HOUSE AND GARMENTS. 59 
 
 and anon the ripe capsules which grew on the summits 
 of the taller and more mature plants were bursting, and 
 sending their seeds like a tiny puff of white smoke into 
 the still air. There was an exquisite finish and perfec- 
 tion of detail in every part. Products of decay although 
 they were, each object was instinct with life, and busy in 
 the performance of life's functions. It was the fable of 
 the Phoenix more than realized purity springing out of 
 corruption, and the shadow of death turned into the 
 morning. 
 
 The common mould-plant has wonderful powers of 
 adapting itself to circumstances the most diverse. 
 Though it grows most frequently in the air, it is no less 
 at home in the water. The vinegar plant which excited 
 so much attention in domestic circles a few years ago, 
 was an extraordinary development in saccharine solutions 
 of the vegetative system or spawn of the common mould. 
 Under the microscope, the peculiar gelatinous or leathery 
 appearance of this abnormal production was found to 
 consist of the threads of the mould closely interlaced and 
 greatly swollen; and whenever the vinegar in which it 
 was immersed was allowed to evaporate, and the spawn 
 to become free from saturation, then the usual form of 
 the mould was produced. Similar examples may be seen 
 in the flocculent matter which forms in various effusions 
 when they become mothery; and in warm weather 
 every writer is familiar with the tough mass that is so 
 often brought up on the point of the pen from the ink- 
 holder. Yeast, too, consists of the cells of this fungus. 
 When placed in the juice of grapes or the juice of barley 
 
60 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 these vegetable cells begin to grow and propagate, caus- 
 ing minute bubbles of carbonic gas to arise, and the 
 whole substance gradually to ferment. A single cubic 
 inch of yeast during the heat of fermentation contains 
 upwards of eleven hundred and fifty-two millions of these 
 primitive plants. When the sugar upon which they feed 
 is exhausted, and the water is all evaporated to dryness, 
 the yeast-plants return to their primitive form of common 
 green mould. We thus see that the same fungus which 
 grows on the decayed grape in the vineyard, or the 
 mildewed barley in the harvest-field, converts, in the 
 form of yeast, the juices of the grape and the barley into 
 wine and beer. In both cases it is a process at once of 
 decay and growth. Nature by means of the growth of 
 the fungus is hastening the decay of effete substances -, 
 man steps in and arrests the decay and growth at a par- 
 ticular point, and employs the product as a beverage. 
 
 So also it is with leaven or the fermenting matter 
 which, in baking bread, is put into the dough to make 
 it lighter and more tasteful. It consists of myriads of the 
 cells of the common mould in an undeveloped state. If 
 a fragment of the dough with the leaven in it be put 
 aside in a shady place, the cells of the fungus in the 
 leaven will vegetate, and cover the dough with a slight 
 downy substance, which is just the plant in its complete 
 form. The swelling of the dough, and the commotion 
 which goes on in the leavened mass, are owing to the 
 multiplication of the plant-cells, which takes place with 
 astonishing rapidity. By this process of vegetation, the 
 starch and sugar of the dough are converted into other 
 
III.] LEPROSY OF HOUSE AND GARMENTS. 61 
 
 chemical products. But it is only allowed to go a cer- 
 tain length, and then the principle of growth is checked 
 by placing the dough in the oven and baking it into 
 bread. Leaven is thus a principle of destruction and 
 construction of decay and of growth of death and of 
 life. It has two effects which are made use of as types 
 in Scripture. On the one side, the operation of leaven 
 upon meal presents an analogy to something evil in the 
 spiritual world, for it decays and decomposes the matter 
 with which it comes into contact. On the other side, the 
 operation of leaven upon meal presents an analogy to 
 something good in the spiritual world, for it is a principle 
 of life and growth, and imparts a new energy and a 
 beneficent quality to the matter with which it comes into 
 contact. Hence we see why Christ, at one and the same 
 time, should bid His disciples beware of the leaven of 
 the Scribes and Pharisees, and compare the kingdom of 
 heaven to leaven hid in three measures of meal. The 
 Kingdom of Heaven, we must remember, has two as- 
 pects, it is a principle of growth and decay, of construc- 
 tion and destruction ; it is life unto life in those who have 
 life, it is death unto death in those who are dead. 
 Nay, in the same person it is at one and the same 
 time a principle of life and of death, of growth and 
 decay, for the new man lives by the death of the old 
 man; the spiritual life grows while the carnal life decays ; 
 the outward man perisheth, while the inward man is 
 renewed more and more. 
 
 Common mould grows on every substance, whether 
 animal or vegetable, in a state of decay. It grows 
 
62 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 even upon the human body when it is in an enfeebled or 
 disordered condition ; and many diseases of the skin are 
 owing to its efforts to develop and spread itself. The 
 thrush in children, the muscardine so destructive to silk- 
 worms, the fungoid growth which so often causes the 
 death of the common house-fly in autumrr, are all differ- 
 ent forms of the common mould. Its germs or spores 
 are constantly floating in the air or swimming in the 
 water in incalculable myriads, so that it is difficult to 
 conceive how any place can be free from their presence. 
 The atmosphere of our houses is loaded with them; and 
 were we endowed with microscopic vision, we should see 
 them dancing about in the draughts and currents of our 
 rooms, or shining among the motes in the pencilled rays 
 of sunshine. The ubiquity of mould has given rise to 
 the theory of spontaneous generation, still held by a cer- 
 tain class of naturalists; but the immense profusion of 
 its seeds, and their wonderful powers of adaptability to 
 varying circumstances, and of entering through the finest 
 conceivable apertures, will easily account for its presence 
 in every situation, without being under the necessity of 
 admitting what has never yet been proved that sub- 
 stances in a particular state of decay can, without seeds 
 or germs of any kind, generate low forms of life. Many 
 medical men are of opinion that various zymotic diseases, 
 if not originated, are increased by the presence of these 
 minute cellules in the blood, and by their deleterious 
 action in developing themselves. The subject has re- 
 cently been made popular by the discoveries of Professor 
 Tyndal and the fears excited by his theory of germs. 
 
III.] LEPROSY OF HOUSE AND GARMENTS, 63 
 
 The injuries inflicted by fungi are indeed incalculable. 
 But we have nevertheless a grand compensation in the 
 benefits which they confer in accelerating, by their un- 
 paralleled rapidity of growth, the process of decay, and 
 removing from the atmosphere into their own tissues, 
 where they are innocuous, the putrescent effluvia of dead 
 substances. They also economize the stock of organized 
 material, which has been slowly and tediously gained 
 from the earth, air, and water, by preventing it from going 
 back through decomposition to the mineral state, and 
 preserving it in an organic form to be at once made avail- 
 able for the purposes of higher animal and plant life. 
 Mould, for these reasons, is not so much an evil in itself 
 as an indication of evil conditions in the world, and by 
 minimising these it renders an all-important service in 
 the economy of nature. Its great purpose is purely bene- 
 volent ; but, like the storm intended to purify the atmo- 
 sphere, it sometimes oversteps its limits, and proves 
 injurious in particular cases. 
 
 Light, indispensable to the well-being of all other plants, 
 is hostile to the growth of fungi. Wherever the sun shines 
 brightly, mould will not appear, or, at all events, flourish. 
 It is essentially one of the unfruitful works of darkness. 
 Hence those dwellings where the direct sunlight is ex- 
 cluded are peculiarly exposed to its attacks. However 
 clean the locality, and comfortable the external appearance 
 of a house, if the windows are small and the ceilings low, 
 and little light be admitted, this morbid vegetable growth 
 will make its appearance ; and by its rapid spread indi- 
 cate very plainly that what is favourable to its develop- 
 
64 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 ment is most depressing and devitalizing to the inmates. 
 Eastern houses especially, owing to the jealous seclusion 
 in which the occupiers live, and the heat and glare of 
 the climate, are constructed to admit as little light as 
 possible ; and therefore we may well suppose that their 
 shaded rooms would be injurious to health and favour- 
 able to the growth of leprous moulds. God said, " Let 
 there be light ; " and He said it for a wise and benefi- 
 cent purpose : for purifying the atmosphere as well as 
 beautifying the earth. It helps on the life of the world ; 
 it is an essential condition of animated nature; it is 
 the best and cheapest of nature's tonics ; and wherever it 
 is prevented from exerting its benign influence, the body 
 is weakened, the atmosphere is vitiated, the dwelling 
 becomes the scene of disease and decay, and the dark 
 haunt of noxious vegetation. Perfumes are also injurious 
 to fungi. It is a remarkable circumstance that mouldi- 
 ness is effectually prevented, at least during its incipient 
 stages, by almost any fragrant substance. It is well 
 known that books will not become mouldy in the neigh- 
 bourhood of Russia leather ; nor any substance if placed 
 within the influence of some essential oil. Turpentine, 
 Canada balsam, tar, and other resinous substances, have 
 not unfrequently proved effective when administered as 
 remedies in diseases of vegetable origin. Cholera has 
 never visited the extensive pine-forests of Norway and 
 Sweden ; and in the district of the Spey in Scotland, 
 where there are great woods of pine and fir, diphtheria 
 which is supposed to be caused by the development of 
 fungoid germs is altogether unknown. It is for this 
 
in.] LEPROSY OF HOUSE AND GARMENTS. 65 
 
 reason probably, that cedar-wood occupies so prominent 
 a place in the list of articles to be used in disinfecting 
 the leprosy of the house. "And he shall cleanse the 
 house with the blood of the bird, and with the running 
 water, and with the living bird, and with the cedar-wood, 
 and with the hyssop, and with the scarlet ; but he shall 
 let go the living bird out of the city into the open fields, 
 and make an atonement for the house ; and it shall be 
 clean." Though the articles of purification here enu- 
 merated were employed on account of their typical or 
 symbolical significance, yet it does not follow from this, 
 that there was not a real fitness in the nature of things, 
 in the various applications. The resinous fragrance of 
 the cedar-wood, in cases where there was only a slight 
 mouldiness in the house, would act as a deodorizing 
 agent, apart altogether from its typical purport or spiritual 
 efficacy. It is important to notice that light and free 
 circulation of air, as symbolized by the living bird let 
 loose into the free sunlit sky, and sweet and healthy per- 
 fumes arising from thorough cleanliness, as symbolized 
 by the hyssop, the running water, and the cedar-wood, 
 form the rational basis of the spiritual typology of the 
 ceremony; and all this is not without profound signifi- 
 cance to us upon whom the ends of the world are 
 come. 
 
 The minute regulations for inspecting and cleansing 
 those houses where symptoms of leprosy appeared, indi- 
 cate how complete was the sanitary system under which 
 the ancient Israelites lived. God considered no part of 
 their domestic and social economy, however humble, 
 
 F 
 
66 THE MINISTR Y OF NA TURE. [CHAP. 
 
 beneath His notice. Cleanliness in person, in dress, 
 in dwellings, and in all outward appointments, was 
 enforced by statutes of a peculiarly solemn character. 
 All these ceremonial enactments were in the first in- 
 stance intended for sanitaiy purposes. God had respect 
 to the physical health and well-being of His people. He 
 wished them to be patterns of purity, models of beauty, 
 their bodies to be perfectly developed in the midst of 
 the most favourable circumstances; and therefore the 
 most admirable arrangements were made for securing 
 cleanly, orderly, and healthy habitations. In this re- 
 spect the ancient Jews were far in advance of us. In 
 too many of our dwellings, the truths of modern sana- 
 tive science are wholly ignored. A frightfully large 
 proportion of our population, not only in crowded cities, 
 but also in lonely rural districts, live in the midst of 
 conditions that are most pernicious to nealth and phy- 
 sical development. Fever never leaves certain localities; 
 and whole hecatombs of victims to epidemic diseases 
 are annually sacrificed through sheer ignorance of the 
 simplest laws of physiology. To remedy this wretched 
 hygienic condition of the masses of our fellow-creatures 
 is the great question of the day; but it is one beset 
 with many and formidable difficulties. Still it is encou- 
 raging to know that, as a nation, we have begun in some 
 measure to address ourselves to an undertaking so 
 vitally important. We have now, fortunately, many 
 associations instituted specially for the prosecution 
 of it ; and efforts for the good of men's bodies are felt 
 to be as really and directly Christian work, as efforts 
 
in.] LEPROSY OF HOUSE AND GARMENTS. 67 
 
 for the enlightenment of the mind and the salvation 
 of the soul. 
 
 But not for purely physical purposes alone were the 
 Levitical laws regarding the leprosy of the house en- 
 forced. They had also a spiritual significance. God 
 dwelt among the Israelites : the tabernacle was His 
 visible abode. He had thus come down to earth ; and 
 the Israelites lived in His presence as it were in heaven, 
 under the conditions of earth. The state which is 
 future to us was present to them ; and hence, all the 
 promises and threatenings addressed to them under the 
 theocracy concerned this life and this earth alone. The 
 solemn announcement was made to them, " The Lord 
 thy God walketh in the midst of thy camp to deliver 
 thee, and to give up thine enemies before thee; there- 
 fore shall thy camp be holy; that He see no unclean 
 thing in thee, and turn away from thee." Physical 
 pollution was regarded as the symbol of spiritual pollu- 
 tion ; and everything connected with disease, decay, or 
 death, imparted a symbolical defilement to a spot 
 wherein nothing that defileth should be found. God 
 was to be known, not as the God of the dead, but of 
 the living ; and therefore every morbid substance, animal 
 or vegetable everything that was hostile to health, and 
 bore upon it the impress of that curse whose course is 
 disease and decay, and whose end is death must be 
 banished without the camp. He was, moreover, to be 
 known as the thrice Holy One, who cannot look upon 
 sin; and therefore every unfruitful work of darkness 
 every token in man's body and surroundings of the deep- 
 F 2 
 
68 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 lying malady of sin in his soul everything that bore 
 the image of corruption must be excluded from the 
 precincts which He has sanctified by His own habitation, 
 and from the dwellings of the people upon whom He 
 has put His name. All experience tells us of the 
 mysterious connection, founded upon the constitution of 
 our two fold nature, between physical and moral evil 
 between external and internal impurity. The proverb, 
 " Cleanliness is next to godliness," is truer even than it 
 is admitted to be. Physical filth has in innumerable 
 instances been the means of turning away the Lord from 
 the homes of those who endure it. For want of a little 
 more room and a little more purity in their dwellings, 
 the sublimest truths fall dead upon the ears of thousands. 
 The salvation of the poor, though to them the Gospel is 
 preached, is in very many cases rendered impossible, 
 humanly speaking, on account of the degrading con- 
 ditions amid which they live, and the deadening, hard- 
 ening influence which familiarity with noxious sights and 
 smells produces. How often are the spiritual instructions 
 of the district visitor thrown away on account of the 
 unhallowed effects of filthy surroundings ! Let our 
 efforts for the souls of our fellow- creatures, therefore, be 
 introduced and accompanied, like those of our Saviour, 
 by some measure of attention to their physical well- 
 being : remembering that the Gospel is universal, com- 
 prehending the whole man ; that Christ ; as the apostle 
 tells us, is the Saviour of the body; and that we are 
 now waiting for the adoption that is, the redemption of 
 the body. 
 
in.] LEPROSY OF HOUSE AND GARMENTS. 69 
 
 Sad it is to think of the leprosy of the house being 
 the type of the leprosy of sin which infects the earthly 
 tabernacle of this body. We bear about with us this 
 plague in all our members. From the crown of the 
 head to the sole of the foot, there is no soundness in us. 
 The whole head is sick, and the whole heart faint. In 
 vain do we endeavour to check its spread, to diminish 
 its ravages, by efforts at self-reformation, by repairing 
 and altering this and that part of our structure which it 
 has corrupted and decayed. So virulent is its nature, so 
 inherent and deep-seated are its roots, that we cannot 
 altogether get quit of it. Even the holiest Christian 
 has a law in his members warring against the law of his 
 mind; and the bitter cry, "Oh, wretched man that I 
 am ! who shall deliver me from this body of death ? " 
 often proceeds from the meekest and saintliest lips. 
 The earthly house of this tabernacle must be taken to 
 pieces, must crumble in the dust, and be resolved into 
 its native elements, ere the ingrained, fretting leprosy of 
 sin be completely e r adicated, and it be in a fit condition 
 to be rebuilt, and made a pure and holy mansion for the 
 redeemed and glorified spirit. Blessed be God, our vile 
 bodies are yet to be fashioned like unto the glorious 
 body of our Redeemer; and here and now the happy 
 work of purification and transformation may be going on 
 through the blood of the Lamb, the water of regenera- 
 tion, and the fragrant, sanctifying influences of Divine 
 grace. Be it ours to put our natures entirely under the 
 purifying power of God's Spirit, so that they may be 
 cleansed from all impure and unholy desires, all in- 
 
70 THE MINISTR Y OF NA TURE. [CHAP. 
 
 ordinate indulgences of lawful appetite, all the fretting 
 leprosy of the flesh and grow up temples of the Holy 
 Ghost, habitations of God through the Spirit, fitted for 
 their sacred ministrations here and their glorious enjoy- 
 ments hereafter. 
 
 So much for the leprosy of the house. The leprosy 
 of garments may have been caused by the same fungi. 
 Precisely the same appearances manifested themselves 
 in the one case as in the other. I am disposed to 
 attribute the greenish streaks on the garments to the 
 common green mould ; for, as I have observed, it is 
 ubiquitous, and grows as readily on clothes as on 
 house walls, when left in damp, ill-ventilated, ill-lighted 
 places. The reddish patches, however, seem to me to 
 have been produced by the growth of the Sporendo- 
 nema, or red mould, very common on cheese ; or of 
 the Palmella prodigiosa. This last-mentioned plant is 
 occasionally found on damp walls in shady places, and 
 on various articles of dress and food, sometimes ex- 
 tending itself over a considerable area. It is usually a 
 gelatinous mass, of the colour and general appearance 
 of coagulated blood, whence it has received the famous 
 name of Gory-dew. Though formerly ranked with the 
 algae, or sea-weed family, it is now ascertained, by more 
 accurate physiological researches, to be a species of 
 mould ; so that, under whatever names we may class 
 them, the plants which occasioned the strange ap- 
 pearances on houses and garments belong to the same 
 tribe. Instances of reddish patches suddenly investing 
 linen and woollen clothes, are by no means confined to 
 
nr.'j LEPROSY OF HOUSE AND GARMENTS. 71 
 
 the Levitical narrative. A whole volume might be filled 
 with similar examples. Along with other marvellous 
 prodigies, they abound in the mediaeval chronicles ; and 
 were they not authenticated by the most trustworthy 
 evidence, we should hesitate from their very extraor- 
 dinary character to accept them as true. It was by no 
 means rare to find, in the middle ages, consecrated wafers 
 and priestly vestments sprinkled with a minute red sub- 
 stance like blood. Such abnormal appearances were called 
 signacula, as tokens of the Saviour's living body; and 
 pilgrimages were not unfrequently made to witness them. 
 In several cases the Jews were suspected, on account of 
 their abhorrence of Christianity, of having caused sacra- 
 mental hosts to bleed, and were, therefore, ruthlessly 
 tormented and put to death in large numbers. Upwards 
 of ten thousand were slaughtered at Rotil, near Frank- 
 fort, in 1296, for this reason. The bleeding of the host, 
 produced in consequence of the scepticism of the 
 officiating priest, gave rise to the miracle of Bolsena, 
 in 1264; the priest's garment stained with this bloody 
 looking substance being preserved until recent times as 
 a relic. This gave rise to the festival of the Corpus 
 Christi founded by Urban IV. Dr. D'Aubignd gives the 
 following extraordinary account of a similar phenomenon, 
 which happened during the Reformation. "On the 26th 
 of July, a widow chancing to be alone in her house, in 
 the village of Castelenschloss, suddenly beheld a fright- 
 ful spectacle blood springing from the earth all around 
 her ; she rushes in alarm into the cottage . . . but, oh, 
 horrible ! blood is flowing everywhere, from the earth, 
 
72 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAF 
 
 from the wainscot, and from the stones ; it falls in a 
 stream from a basin on a shelf, and even the child's 
 cradle overflows with it. The woman imagines that the 
 invisible hand of an assassin has been at work, and 
 rushes in distraction out of doors, crying ' Murder ! 
 murder ! ' The villagers and the monks of a neigh- 
 bouring convent assemble at the noise; they partly 
 succeed in effacing the bloody stains ; but a little later 
 in the day, the other inhabitants of the house, sitting 
 down in terror to eat their evening meal under the 
 projecting eaves, suddenly discover blood bubbling up 
 in a pond, blood flowing from the loft, blood covering 
 all the walls of the house. Blood, blood, everywhere 
 blood ! The bailiff of Schenkenberg and the pastor of 
 Dalheim arrive, inquire into the matter, and immediately 
 report it to the Lords of Berne and Zwingle." M. 
 Montagne relates that a red parasite attacked all kinds 
 of alimentary substances at the Chateau du Parquet in 
 July 1852. "The servants," he observes, "much as- 
 tonished at what they saw, brought us half a fowl roasted 
 the previous evening, which was literally covered with a 
 gelatinous layer of a very intense carmine red. A cut 
 melon also exhibited some traces of it. Some cooked 
 cauliflower which had been thrown away also presented 
 the same appearance." Before the potato-blight broke 
 out in 1846, red mould spots appeared on wet linen 
 surfaces exposed to the air in bleaching-greens, as well 
 as on household linen kept in damp places, in Ireland. 
 In September 1848, Dr. Eckard, of Berlin, while at- 
 tending a cholera patient, observed the same production 
 
III.] LEPROSY OF HOUSE AND GARMENTS. 73 
 
 on a plate of potatoes which had been placed in a 
 cupboard in the patient's house. All these instances 
 and hundreds more might be enumerated though some- 
 what exaggerated by the dilated eye of fear, were found 
 by microscopic investigation to be caused by the ex- 
 traordinary development in abnormal circumstances of 
 the red mould. Occurring, as most of them did, before 
 the outbreak of epidemics, which they were supposed to 
 herald, they obviously point to the conclusion that they 
 were developed by unhealthy conditions of the atmo- 
 sphere. In ordinary times, but few of the fungi which 
 caused these alarming appearances are produced, and 
 then only in obscure and isolated localities ; but their 
 seeds lie around us in immense profusion, waiting but 
 the recurrence of similar atmospheric conditions as 
 existed in former times, to exhibit as extraordinary a 
 development. 
 
 " O Lord, how manifold are Thy works ; in wisdom 
 hast Thou made them all ! " is the thought that arises in 
 the devout soul at the contemplation of the wonderful 
 structure and history of these minute existences, which 
 live and die unknown to the great majority of mankind. 
 No one has a right to despise these objects which, by a 
 false human standard, we are accustomed to call insig- 
 nificant. Such an epithet is not applicable to anything 
 that God has made and adapted to His own designs. 
 Even a mould, requiring the highest powers of the 
 miscroscope for its examination, can become in His 
 hands a mighty scourge or a transcendent benefit. The 
 minutest organism which obeys His laws, tends to His 
 
THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 glory ; and the study of it fills us with adoring awe, as 
 well as enables us to improve our condition in the world. 
 Most important are the lessons which the humblest of 
 all plants teach us. They show us how hurtful things 
 can be rendered harmless, and natural mischief neu- 
 tralized. Their own appearance is an indication of the 
 law of purity which pervades all creation. Pure as the 
 snow-flake from the cloud so dark pure as the lily from 
 mud so vile pure as the duck-weed on the stagnant 
 ditch their slender stems and graceful fruitage spring 
 from foul-smelling and decaying rubbish. They utilize 
 and convert into their own beautiful forms, the corrupting 
 substances that are defiling and destroying God's fair 
 world. They thus teach us that the only way in which 
 we can render the waste materials of life innoxious, is to 
 use them and make them serve us. The sewage of our 
 towns, and the refuse of our houses, will prove dele- 
 terious to us, and be the constant source of disease, 
 unless we make them subservient to the increase of the 
 means of life, the fertilizing of our fields, and the pro- 
 duction of our food. " Gather up the fragments that 
 nothing be lost," is a command in nature as in grace, 
 which we disobey at our own peril for the only con- 
 dition of organic waste ceasing to be an evil is that it 
 shall become a good. The leprosy of garments speaks 
 to us too, like all the impurities of earth, of the defile- 
 ment of sin. Our own righteousness is as filthy rags. 
 Our own garment of good deeds and feelings is mouldy, 
 and ingrained with the greenish and reddish streaks of 
 uncleanness. The mildewed garment of the flesh clings 
 
Hi.] LEPROSY OF HOUSE AND GARMENTS. 75 
 
 to us like Dejanira's robe, and poisons all the springs of 
 our life. The righteousness of Christ alone is the pure 
 linen, clean and white, without speck of decay, or stain 
 of sin. He invites us to buy of Him white raiment that 
 we may be clothed, and that the shame of our nakedness 
 may not appear; to wash our robes and make them 
 white in the blood of the Lamb. Putting on the Lord 
 Jesus Christ first in justification, and then in daily life, 
 all our garments will smell of myrrh and cassia, out of 
 the ivory palaces, whereby they have made us glad, and 
 thus effectually hinder by their fragrance the morbid 
 leprous growth of sin. And if, like the saints of Sardis, 
 we do not defile our garments of grace, which are so 
 easily stained by the pollutions of a world lying in 
 wickedness; if we keep ourselves unspotted from the 
 world, hating even the garment spotted by the flesh, then 
 we shall walk in the heavenly mansions with Christ in 
 white, in garments of glory, which are incapable of 
 receiving a stain which cannot be infected with the 
 leprosy of sin any more being a portion of the in- 
 heritance which is " incorruptible, and undefiled, and 
 that fadeth not away." 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 STONES CRYING OUT. 
 
 I tell you that, if these should hold their peace, the stones would 
 immediately cry out." LUKE xix. 40. 
 
 Lord's rebuke to the envious Pharisees, who 
 would have silenced the " Hosannas " of the 
 disciples during His triumphant entry into Jerusalem, 
 is, on the face of it, a mere metaphor, a mere poetical 
 personification. It was simply meant to convey, in the 
 most forcible manner, the idea that it was impossible 
 for those whose hearts were filled with a new-born, 
 overpowering sense of the Messiah's glory, to restrain 
 the outward expression of it, as impossible as it 
 would be for stones to speak. Doubtless in this sense 
 alone it was understood by the multitude. But the 
 words of our Lord have a deeper meaning than appears 
 on the surface, and a wider application than to the 
 immediate circumstance that called them forth. They 
 are the words of Him in whom are hid all the treasures 
 of wisdom and knowledge. They open the door to 
 an almost infinite exegesis in the line of their own 
 thought When a subtle critic detects some hidden 
 
CHAP, iv.] STONES CRYING OUT. 77 
 
 beauty in the writings of Dante, Goethe, or Milton, we 
 
 are apt to say that the writer did not mean it that it 
 
 is a mere reflection of the critic's own thought; but, 
 
 as Archdeacon Hare says, if the beauty is there, his 
 
 genius meant it, however insensibly to himself: for the 
 
 true poet, like the inspired prophet, always says more 
 
 than he means, more even than he understands. 
 
 Working in unison with nature and truth, he is sure to 
 
 be far mightier and wiser than himself; his words 
 
 have an assimilative power, like the growth of a seed 
 
 which brings materials together from heaven and earth 
 
 for its development, or the gathering of beautiful 
 
 crystals, each to its own, round little specks or threads, 
 
 in a solution. Now what the poet does unconsciously, 
 
 our Lord did consciously. All that He said and did 
 
 connected itself with the wide universe by innumerable 
 
 associations, and, passing beyond its immediate purpose 
 
 and apparent purport, formed part of the absolute truth. 
 
 Taking this warrantable view of our Lord's words in 
 
 general, the particular hyperbolical expression uttered 
 
 by Him on the occasion referred to, seems to me to 
 
 contain a profound and far-reaching truth to disclose 
 
 the true meaning and design of the inorganic world. 
 
 The Word who uttered the words in question was the 
 
 same Word who created the world, and without whom 
 
 was not anything made that was made. He must 
 
 therefore have fully known the utmost significance of 
 
 His own sayings, all that the stones symbolized and 
 
 were made to express in their own mute language of 
 
 signs. And if we can find in His utterances hidden 
 
78 THE MINIS 'TR Y OF NA TURE. [CHAP. 
 
 analogies that are mutually harmonious and consistent 
 with the general scheme of nature and of grace, we 
 are at liberty, I think, to accept them as true inter- 
 pretations, as meant, if not literally and directly by 
 our Saviour, at least by His infinite wisdom. If the 
 Lamb was slain from the foundation of the world, the 
 inorganic substances which were the first created objects, 
 which lie at the very foundation of all things, must 
 testify of His redemptive work. 
 
 The stones which probably attracted our Lord's eye 
 as He rode over them in the pathway from Bethany 
 to Jerusalem, were more than usually suggestive of 
 thoughtful reflection. There were indeed sermons in 
 these stones which he who ran might read. The Mount 
 of Olives, in common with the greater part of Palestine 
 and Northern Egypt, is composed of cretaceous and 
 nummulitic limestone, abounding in caverns, and form- 
 ing the sources of numerous springs. This formation 
 is entirely of animal origin ; every grain of these vast 
 masses once passed through the tissues and formed 
 part of the structure of living creatures. The Mount 
 of Olives is but the sepulchre of myriads of curious 
 and often beautiful forms of life that formerly existed in 
 tertiary seas, of which the Dead Sea, the Mediterranean, 
 and the Red Sea are but isolated fragments. Its general 
 aspect forcibly suggests the theory of the bed of an 
 ocean abounding with the remains of extinct shells, 
 gradually left dry, and by some slow and vast operation 
 upheaved in horizontal or slightly inclined beds, after- 
 wards worn away into mountains and valleys by extensive 
 
iv.] STONES CRYING OUT. 79 
 
 denudation. Of the same material tne most famous of 
 the Pyramids is formed ; its characteristic fossils, called 
 by the Arabs " Pharaoh's beans," stand out in high 
 relief on the weathered portions of the great Sphinx; 
 and nearly the whole city of Paris has been reared out 
 of the consolidated remains of lime-producing animals. 
 Imagination is bewildered when it tries to picture the 
 abundance of life which piled up the mountains that are 
 round about Jerusalem, which furnished the materials 
 of the grandest of ancient monuments and the most 
 beautiful of modern cities. Every stone which strewed 
 our Saviour's pathway spoke of worlds and systems of 
 life which passed away in ages for which we have no 
 reckoning, compared with which the antiquity of the 
 Pyramids is but as yesterday. Had they the faculty of 
 articulate speech, how eloquently would they disclose 
 the history of one of the most marvellous of the 
 geological epochs ! They would speak of the decease 
 which Jesus was about to accomplish at Jerusalem ; they 
 would testify of life given up for the benefit of other 
 life. The very site of the cross itself was the grave of 
 creatures that had perished in order that a foundation 
 might be provided on which man might rear his dwellings 
 and cultivate his fields. Their ashes entombed the 
 Lord's dead body even in that " clean place," that new 
 sepulchre, hewn out of the rock, "wherein was man never 
 yet laid." On the threshing-floor of Araunah other 
 sacrifices had been made, long epochs before the 
 destroying angel sheathed his sword beside the burnt- 
 offering of David, or the dying cry of David's Son 
 
8o THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP, 
 
 uttered the mighty paean of redemption, " It is finished." 
 In the Mount of the Lord it is indeed seen that self- 
 sacrifice is the genius and history of the place. There 
 the rending of the rocks, the quaking of the earth, the 
 darkening of the sun, and the opening of the graves, 
 proved the sympathy of nature with her crucified Lord, 
 who supplied the key of the one ruling symbol of nature, 
 the universal law of sacrifice, the triumph not only oi 
 life over suffering and death, but of life through suffering 
 and death. On the world's one holiest spot all the types 
 of the Old Testament, and all the types of the older, 
 unwritten testament, converge in the great Archetype. 
 It is seen that the scheme of redemption, so far from 
 being, as some allege, a discord in Nature's voice, a harsh 
 and grating note in her harmonious anthem, is " the 
 grand continuation, the divine climax of the system of 
 intervention and vicarious suffering, which not only 
 pervades the natural world, but without which merciful 
 alleviation the world would become a scene of hopeless 
 misery." The oldest and wi.dest fact of nature, the 
 inmost experience of society, and the central truth of 
 Christianity, meet, and are one ; and man is "in league 
 with the stones of the field." It must never be forgotten, 
 however, that it is only the lowest the self-sacrificing 
 aspect of the atonement that can be typified by stones. 
 From the very limitations of its nature, the physical 
 world cannot symbolize the propitiatory character of 
 Christ's sacrifice. That is the unique revelation of the 
 Gospel, what makes the Gospel indeed " good news " 
 to sinful, perishing souls. 
 
iv.] STONES CRYING OUT. 81 
 
 Belonging to the same formation as the stones of 
 Bethany is a material which perhaps more than any 
 other has had to do with the higher education of man- 
 kind. Marble must have been specially prepared by 
 God for the use of man, since he alone is capable of 
 turning it to use, and enjoying its beauty. It was the 
 prolepsis or prophecy of a being endowed with an acute 
 sense of the beauty of colour and form. By the use of 
 this flower and sublimation of the rocks in embodying 
 the ideas of genius, that toil in the sweat of the brow 
 which was the curse pronounced upon man because of 
 sin, becomes the means of raising him to a higher region 
 of life, and connecting him with the spiritual and eternal 
 world. In working out the conceptions of his imagina- 
 tion in the pure and stainless stone, he works truly, 
 though it may be unconsciously, after a divine pattern ; 
 he sees the laws of order and harmony impressed by the 
 Almighty upon His creation, and is drawn into deepest 
 sympathy with them ; he is brought face to face with all 
 the refining effects of that communion with the King in 
 His beauty, whose image is truly mirrored in all the 
 beauty of nature. Thus the earnest and reverent artist, 
 sharing somewhat in the inspiration of Bezaleel and 
 Aholiab, rescues the ideals of creation from the lawless- 
 ness and chaos of sin, and shows what man's form was 
 in its original beauty, and what it may yet become in 
 the palingenesis of the creature, when all degenerations 
 and deformities are finally removed, and God shall say 
 again of the work of His hands, that it is all very good. 
 We see how the sculptor's art raised the ancient Greek 
 
 G 
 
82 THE MINISTR V OF NA TURE. [CHAP. 
 
 above the grotesque and grovelling dragon-worship of 
 other pagan nations, and surrounded him with spiritual 
 embodiments of the highest beauty and grace. It is 
 true that by his worship of the statues of the gods, 
 changing the incorruptible God into an image made like 
 to corruptible man, he speedily sank into the awfully 
 degraded state described by St. Paul. He had a higher 
 ideal than could be represented by his gross worship, 
 supplied to him by his own conscience ; but because he 
 put the lower nature above the higher, the lust of the 
 flesh obtained dominion over him. And yet it is a re- 
 markable fact, that whereas the deities of other nations 
 were represented in plant or animal forms of the lowest 
 kind, the statues of the Greek gods should have been 
 modelled on the highest ideal of the human form, that 
 the Greeks alone should have believed, without revela- 
 tion, that the human was the most adequate expression 
 of the Divine. It looks as if this were a mysterious 
 longing and groping after the incarnation of the Son of 
 God, as if these statues were, so to speak, the pagan 
 types and unconscious prophecies of it, preparations 
 among the Gentiles for enabling them to believe in " the 
 Chiefest among ten thousand," " the Altogether Lovely," 
 when He should be preached to them, for enabling 
 St. Paul on the hill of Mars to say, " Whom ye ignorantly 
 worship, Him declare I. unto you." It is a matter of 
 undoubted fact, that at the time of Christ the Greeks 
 were riper for the reception of the great mystery of the 
 Incarnation than the great majority of the monotheistic 
 Jews, who crucified Jesus because He claimed to be the 
 
IV.] STONES CRYING OUT. 83 
 
 Son of God. May not the familiarity of the Greeks, 
 through their mythology, with the appearances of the 
 gods in human form on earth, have had something to do 
 with this surprising result ? And may we not thus regard 
 the marble statues of the Greek gods as crying out, 
 " Hosanna ! blessed is He that cometh in the name of 
 the Lord ; " while the living lips of the covenant people 
 held their peace in unbelief? 
 
 There is one group of stones associated in kind with 
 those of Olivet, though not on the same geological 
 horizon, which also have had much to do with the pro- 
 gress of the human race. If marble is linked with the 
 aesthetic requirements of mankind, coal and ironstone 
 are connected with our industrial and social advance- 
 ment. These two minerals are generally conjoined with 
 limestone ; and while they can be extracted and used 
 separately for their own important purposes, they are 
 combined to prepare one of their number for the service 
 of man. Coal supplies fuel to smelt the iron ; limestone 
 acts as a flux, promoting the speedy reduction of the ore, 
 and its purification from the other ingredients with 
 which it is mixed ; while the iron thus prepared in its 
 turn furnishes tools with which the coal and limestone 
 are dug up. We surely see in this beautiful correlated 
 grouping of the most useful of all natural productions, 
 not the result of a mere accident, but a remarkable 
 example of wise forethought and providential design. 
 There is not in any department of nature a more striking 
 proof of that prospective contrivance which argues in- 
 tention, plan, and prevision, and therefore intelligence 
 
 G 2 
 
84 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP 
 
 than that which the history of coal furnishes. The suc- 
 cessive growth and submergence of the luxuriant primeval 
 forests which formed it, and all the elaborate processes, 
 chemical and mechanical, carried on for countless ages, 
 by which it was converted into fuel, and stored up securely 
 and conveniently under easily-workable strata of the earth, 
 practically formed one long continuous prophecy of the 
 advent of an intelligent being who, in the fulness of time, 
 was to " subdue the earth." We are impressed thereby 
 with the irresistible conviction that there is a God of 
 creation and a God of providence, who has thus made 
 provision, ages upon ages before man was born, for the 
 latest of his wants and the grandest of his achievements. 
 Nay, more : it involves even directly, the conclusion 
 that there is a God of redemption, whose eye runs 
 through man's prospective history at a glance, and whose 
 covenant is therefore ordered in all things and sure. It 
 reveals the fact that there was a system of types in 
 nature long before those of the Written Word. It is a 
 prophecy of the fall of man and the redemption from it. 
 Through the long aisle of intervening ages the altar of 
 the cross and the great Sacrifice upon it are seen. 
 If limestone, composed of animal remains, indicated 
 the self-sacrificing principle pervading the animal king- 
 dom, coal, composed of plant remains, indicated its 
 prevalence throughout the vegetable disclosed the mys- 
 tery hid from ages and generations, and explained by 
 Christ : " Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground 
 and die, it abideth alone : but if it die, it bringeth forth 
 much fruit. He that loveth his life shall lose it ; and he 
 
I v.l STONES CRYING OUT. 85 
 
 that hateth his life shall keep it unto life eternal/ Each 
 stratum of coal, as it was deposited, cried out in its mute 
 but eloquent language of symbol, ** Blessed is He that 
 cometh in the name of the Lord ! " 
 
 If this fuel was designed for the use of man, how could 
 he reach it, piercing through overlying rocks, and digging 
 into the bowels of the earth, without that " sweat of the 
 face " which we all know was a consequence of the curse 
 pronounced upon man's sin ? How could he make use of 
 it when obtained, in the commerce of nations, the multipli- 
 cation of manufactures, the diffusion of knowledge, the 
 progress of science and art, the facilities for travelling, 
 and the thousand and one purposes of our great modern 
 civilization, without toil of a very different kind from 
 that which constituted the beneficent exercise of Adam 
 in Eden ? Regarded even in its lowest aspect as fuel 
 for creating warmth, the vast collection of combustible 
 materials stored up in the coal formation implied that it 
 was intended for the use of a creature, in whom alone, 
 of all the animals, the power of producing sufficient heat 
 internally, the necessary adaptation to external con- 
 ditions of temperature by a physiological process, is 
 wanting. This failure of adjustment as regards tem- 
 perature, like all the other failures of correspondence 
 between man and nature, was doubtless caused by the 
 fall, which deteriorated his whole physical as well as 
 spiritual condition. The apron of fig-leaves with which 
 our first parents attempted to clothe themselves, when 
 their eyes were opened, and they knew that they were 
 naked, indicates not only that they had lost the sweet 
 
86 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 unconsciousness of innocence, but also the power of gene- 
 rating sufficient heat for their health and comfort ; for 
 we find no mention of clothing among the other pro- 
 visions for their animal wants in their paradisaical state. 
 And this conclusion is further confirmed by the fact, that 
 God Himself substituted the warmer and more enduring 
 skins of beasts for the insufficient protection of the fig- 
 leaves. Thus we have the curse and the blessing, the 
 evil and the remedy, united in the same prospective 
 arrangement of the coal-formation, as truly as in the first 
 promise made to Adam and Eve after the fall : " It shall 
 bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel." From 
 this circumstance the argument for the Divine prevision 
 of man's sin, and the Divine preparation for the remedial 
 scheme, derives additional force and interest For what 
 is more likely, as it has been well said, than that He 
 who brought about this marvellous adaptation of process 
 to result and supply to demand in nature, incalculable 
 ages before the creation of the very being in whose 
 history they were yet to be exemplified, did also make 
 provision for the fatal effects of human transgression, by 
 resolving, ere yet the heavens and the earth were made, 
 to send forth His Son, in the fulness of time, to redeem 
 and renovate a lost creation ? 
 
 The iron ore associated with the coal and limestone 
 also testifies to the same great redemptive truths* It 
 speaks of the sweat of human toil ; and anticipates the 
 plough to break up the bare hard wilderness for the 
 sower, the pruning-knife to adapt the wasteful luxuriances 
 of nature to man's necessities, the sword to create order 
 
iv. J STONES CRYING OUT. 87 
 
 and peace amid anarchy and confusion. It foretells a 
 being who, instead of finding a garden ready made, and 
 everything furnished to his hand to dress and keep it, 
 has to create a garden out of the barren waste, by the 
 most strenuous labour to make the very instruments 
 with which he works ; who has to discover, to think out 
 theoretically, and reproduce practically, by the utmost 
 strain his faculties can bear, the thoughts and purposes 
 of God. By the powers and instruments with which iron 
 furnishes man, his higher education begins : he rises 
 from the savage to the civilized state. He is brought 
 into the closest contact with those laws by which God 
 maintains the order and life of the world, which he had 
 broken, and whose penalty he had incurred; so that by 
 humble and absolute submission to them he may win 
 the blessings they contain ; so that his work may be 
 indeed "a readjustment of the lost harmony between 
 man and the outer world, blighted for his sake, which 
 expresses to him so much of the mind of God." He 
 becomes a fellow-worker with God in adorning and en- 
 riching the earth by cultivation, and carrying on his 
 work of mechanical contrivance on the same principles as 
 those on which the Divine Designer wrought of old, and 
 still works. He becomes a pupil in the school of God, 
 by taking the dust of the earth, the humble materials 
 of his microscopes and telescopes, and by their aid 
 studying the remotest and minutest glories of the uni- 
 verse, the mysteries of the world unseen. And 
 through this discipline he is fitted to become God's 
 fellow-worker in the higher Scripture sense, in his own 
 
88 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 moral and spiritual development and that of others, 
 both in adaptation to the present, and preparation for 
 the future state. 
 
 Thus we see that iron, even while it lay embedded in 
 the rock through vast cycles of time, was an appointed 
 symbol testifying of the consequences of man's sin and 
 the deliverance from them, was foreordained to work out 
 the necessary natural preparations for the spiritual rege- 
 neration of the world. We know the mighty revolution 
 which it has already wrought in the affairs of man and 
 on the face of the earth ; and who can tell but that the 
 agencies which it has called into operation may continue 
 to enlighten and evangelize the world, until barbarism is 
 everywhere supplanted by civilization, and the darkness 
 of paganism by the light of Christianity, and thus the 
 earth be made ready for the coming and kingdom of its 
 Redeemer? It was a significant feature in the land of 
 Israel that its stones were iron, and out of its hills might 
 be dug brass ; for the conservation of Divine truth, and 
 the spiritual education of the people to be the mission- 
 aries of the race, were closely bound up with these 
 material resources. And so it is an equally significant 
 fact of Divine Providence, that the countries which are 
 most thoroughly enlightened by the faith kindled in 
 Judaea, are precisely those whose stones are iron ; that 
 this precious gift is conferred upon those nations who 
 can best employ it in preparing the way of the Lord 
 upon the earth, making the crooked places straight, 
 and the rough places smooth, that all flesh may see the 
 salvation of our God. 
 
iv.] STONES CRYING CUT. 89 
 
 A large number of our medicinal substances are de- 
 rived from the mineral kingdom. Of these, iron and 
 magnesia, connected with the limestone system of rocks, 
 are among the most important and widely known. The 
 fact of these materials, admirably adapted to restore the 
 human system when disordered, existing in the very 
 foundation of our earth, entering into its formation from 
 the very beginning, indicates that, long beforehand, 
 man's fall was foreseen, and its consequences provided 
 for in a remedial scheme. We cannot suppose that these 
 healing substances were chance discoveries, applied by 
 man to purposes for which God did not intend them ; 
 that the inferior ends which they subserve in the me- 
 chanical arts were designed, while their higher uses in 
 medicine were altogether undestined. He who believes 
 that every good gift is from above, will readily grant 
 that if these substances are indeed remedial, if they can 
 cure certain maladies of the human body which are the 
 corporeal effects of sin, they were created by Him who 
 healeth all our diseases and relieveth all our pains, for 
 that very purpose. Thus iron and magnesia, the very- 
 stones under the feet of Jesus, cried out in the early 
 epochs of the world's history their " Hosannas " to Him 
 whose name was Jesus the Healer, and whose miracles 
 of mercy on mankind united the corporeal and spiritual . 
 functions of the Great Physician. Truly the invisible 
 things of God, the deep mysteries of redemption from 
 the beginning of the world, were clearly seen, being 
 understood by the things which were made, by the very 
 rocks that form the foundations of the earth. This is no 
 
90 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. FCHAP. 
 
 longer the guess of a fanciful hypothesis; it is the 
 splendid demonstration of modern science. 
 
 But passing from the particular kind of stone which 
 suggested our Saviour's remark and its typical teachings, 
 to a wider view of the subject, it may be said that the 
 fundamental truth of substitution is foreshadowed by 
 some of the phenomena of the mineral kingdom. The 
 chemistry that deals with the inorganic world may be 
 called the science of substitutions ; inasmuch as the 
 object of all its experiments is to replace in compound 
 bodies certain atoms, by certain other atoms, and 
 to determine what substances are capable of being 
 substituted for others, and the laws by which such 
 substitution is effected. Laurent's chemical symbolism 
 is founded upon this universally admitted fact of sub- 
 stitution in chemistry. " It consists," according to Dr. 
 Balfour, whose observations on this subject are exceed- 
 ingly interesting, "in employing the different vowels 
 for the different proportions of the vicarious element, 
 so that if we know the composition of the original 
 substance, we can at once tell that of the new one 
 obtained by substitution." For instance, in the case 
 of iodine, bromine or cyanogen may be substituted for 
 chlorine, and yet the general character of the compound 
 be maintained. Again, in the case of alum, for the 
 sulphate of potash, which is one of its elementary sub- 
 stances, soda, or magnesia, or protoxide of iron may be 
 substituted, and yet the typical character of the resultant 
 be unaltered. Numberless other examples might be 
 quoted, in which the type and chemical relations, the 
 
iv.j STONES CRYING OUT. 9 J 
 
 fonn, colour, and taste of compound bodies are retained, 
 although one element may turn out another and take 
 its place in them. But this substitution has its distinct 
 and definite limits, beyond which it cannot be effected, 
 without modifying the compounds and obliterating their 
 original type. It is only the elements generically allied, 
 belonging to the same group, that are capable of this 
 vicarious arrangement. As in the oblique move of the 
 pawns in chess-playing, one pawn must be substituted 
 for another; so in the phenomena of chemistry, one 
 equivalent element must take the place of another, and 
 be moved according to positive rules. There is nothing 
 accidental in these substitutions : they are the result 
 of laws which have been through all time in active 
 operation, and to which they are bound by a mathe- 
 matical precision. The whole science of chemistry 
 makes us familiar with a system of order. Thus the 
 remarkable phenomena of substitution in the elements 
 of the stones under the feet of Jesus pointed to His own 
 substitutionary position and work, inasmuch as He was 
 partaker of our nature, bone of our bone, and flesh of 
 our flesh, our brother born, and thus qualified to take 
 our place, atone for our sins, and work out a perfect 
 righteousness for us. And as in chemistry the phe- 
 nomena of substitution bring out in full relief the un- 
 changing order of nature, showing that it is not a system 
 of chance and confusion, but of the most harmonious 
 arrangements ; so the substitution of Christ for the 
 sinner magnifies the moral law, and makes it honour- 
 able, maintains God's character and government in their 
 
92 THE MINISTR Y OF NA TURE. [CHAP. 
 
 glorious integrity, so that He is just, while the Justifier 
 of the ungodly who believe in Jesus. 
 
 The precious fundamental doctrine, that the sinner 
 who believes in Christ is saved, is symbolized by the 
 remarkable, almost magical action of zinc upon its 
 associate metals. When strips of copper, iron, tin, and 
 silver, are placed in a vessel containing diluted nitric 
 acid, in such a manner that they do not touch one 
 another, the metals are gradually dissolved in the acid ; 
 but when each of them is soldered to a piece of zinc 
 before placing it in the acid, they remain solid and 
 uninjured, and the zinc alone is dissolved. This pro- 
 tection from a destroying element wnich zinc affords 
 to the metals with which it is united, beautifully repre- 
 sents to us the deliverance which our Saviour has 
 wrought out for those who are united to Him by faith, 
 from the destroying effects of sin and death, at the 
 expense of His own suffering and death. "He saved 
 others ; Himself He cannot save." The elevation of 
 our nature by our Lord's assumption of it, may also 
 be illustrated from the mineral kingdom, by a pheno- 
 menon which not unfrequently takes place in our mines, 
 when crystals decompose under a change of conditions, 
 and form skeletons, within whose cavity others of a 
 different constitution and figure find nuclei and the 
 conditions required for their development. In the 
 mould left by the decay of the original perfect crystal 
 of our nature caused by the fall, our Saviour developed 
 the higher and more beautiful crystal of redeemed 
 humanity. He Himself, in our form and name, filled 
 
iv.] STONES CRYING O(JT. 
 
 93 
 
 the sphere of purity and holiness from which we had 
 disintegrated by sin ; as the oxide of tin fills the 
 hollows left behind by the decomposition of the felspar 
 crystals in the granite rocks of Cornwall. Another very 
 striking example of the exclusion of a lower metal by one 
 of higher value, may be seen in the case of iron articles 
 left in the water of mines abounding in sulphate of 
 copper or blue vitriol. The sulphuric acid, by its 
 stronger affinity for the iron, separates from the copper, 
 and attacks and dissolves the iron, which as it gradually 
 disappears from its place, is filled, particle after particle, 
 by the copper ; and thus the very shape, down to its 
 minutest details, of the original iron article is retained 
 by the copper which has dispossessed it. The whole 
 subject of the formation of metals and crystals strikingly 
 typifies the ennobling processes of grace, by which the 
 Spirit of God changes the corruption of oar nature into 
 the bright and beautiful simplicity of a heavenly life. 
 As the rude lump of coke may be crystallized into the 
 exquisite light-refracting diamond, and as the common 
 clay of the soil casts off its unattractive dress, and 
 appears as the brilliant silver-like aluminium, so the 
 sinner sunk lowest in the fearful pit and the miry clay 
 may be transformed in the renewing of his mind, and 
 become a new creature in Christ Jesus ; and we know 
 that this body of our humiliation will be changed at the 
 resurrection, and fashioned like unto the glorious body 
 of our Redeemer. Then too the changing of the earths 
 into metals, through the disengagement of their oxygen, 
 by the mediation of a third element for which the 
 
94 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 oxygen has a greater affinity; and the building up, say 
 of a crystal of salt, that has been crushed into powder, 
 by the mediation of water, so that out of the solution 
 the separate .particles shall emerge, and unite and form 
 a new crystal, equal to the original in size, regularity, 
 and transparency, are beautiful examples in the mineral 
 world of the great Mediatorial work of the Saviour, by 
 which we are reconciled to God and reconciled to 
 ourselves, so as to become one in Him. Further still, 
 the prevalence of evil in the world, even in things that 
 are good, is typified by the universal diffusion of that 
 poisonous mineral, arsenic being found even in common 
 salt; while the moral correctives that exist side-by-side 
 with evil, are symbolized by the mineral tests that prove 
 the presence of mineral poisons, and possess the power of 
 neutralizing their effects. And it must not be lost sight 
 of, that it is owing to a process of the most refined 
 chemistry, and to the use of a material until recently 
 unknown, that the Bible can now be produced for an 
 exceedingly small sum, and be multiplied with marvellous 
 rapidity to any extent. The coincidence of this ma- 
 terial process with God's gradual natural method of im- 
 parting the revelation of His will to men, is surely a most 
 striking example of Divine prevision, and must be re- 
 garded as entering into that plan of redemption which 
 was foreordained before tne foundation of the worid. 
 
 But I must pause here, although I have only entered 
 on the threshold of my subject. It is commonly sup- 
 posed that it is only in living things that we can discern 
 evidences of design and types of the spiritual world. It 
 
iv.] STONES CRYING OUT. 95 
 
 is thought that in the inorganic realm we come nearer to 
 the efficient than to the final causes of things ; or, if 
 mineral substances do shadow forth their design, that 
 design is entirely exhausted in adaptation to organic life. 
 But the previous observations will, it is hoped, show to 
 us that final as well as efficient causes may be traced in 
 the mineral kingdom ; that its phenomena are no other 
 than the economical laws of the moral world, and the 
 great truths of redemption in pictures and representa- 
 tions. Each stone, in a far higher sense than Paley's 
 watch, not only presents an example of a definite and 
 an intelligent design, but embodies some great thought 
 of God, and is a type or a prophecy of some truth of 
 redemption. Each stone is a medal of creation, and 
 bears the image and superscription of the Lord of all. 
 Each stone contains the spiritual signs impressed by the 
 finger of God, as truly as the tables of stone on which 
 were engraved the moral law. Not only does the vege- 
 table kingdom bring its frankincense and myrrh; the 
 mineral kingdom also brings its gold to the feet of Jesus. 
 Not only are the palm branches strewn in His way; 
 the very stones cry out " Hosanna." The mineral king- 
 dom is one string of the grand harp of creation, that 
 harmoniously shows forth His praise. As St. Augustine 
 says, " Distite lapides astimare negotiator es regni cozlorum" 
 To no one department of nature is the task of imaging 
 spiritual truth confined. Even the humblest shape 
 of inorganic matter has something to tell us of the- 
 unsearchable riches of Christ Jesus, and can no more 
 be spared from the great typology of nature, than the 
 
96 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. IV . 
 
 smallest type of the Messiah can be spared from the 
 Old Testament. The whole system of things around 
 us was constituted from the beginning with a view to 
 redemption. " When He appointed the foundations of 
 the earth, then I was by Him, as one brought up with 
 Him : and I was daily His delight, rejoicing always 
 before Him; rejoicing in the habitable parts of the 
 earth ; and my delights were with the sons of men." Not 
 in the good gold, the bdellium and the onyx stone of the 
 earthly Eden, do we realize the whole idea of God as 
 symbolized by the mineral kingdom ; but in the jasper 
 walls, and golden streets, and foundations garnished with 
 all manner of precious stones, of the New Jerusalem : 
 matter in its purest, highest, and least perishable form 
 constituting the home of redeemed man in his noblest 
 condition, transformed into the likeness of the Redeemer, 
 the creation that groaned and travailed with pain ex- 
 alted in the redemption of man, for which it waited so 
 long. 
 
 " As wheeled by seeing spirits towards the East, 
 
 where faint and fair, 
 
 Along the tingling desert of the sky, 
 Beyond the circle of the conscious hills, 
 Were laid in jasper stone, as clear as glass, 
 The first foundations of that new near Day, 
 Which should be builded out of heaven to God ; 
 
 'jasper first,' I said, 
 
 And second, sapphire ; third, chalcedony ; 
 The rest in order ; last an amethyst." 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 THORiVS THE CURSE OF ADAM AND THE CROWN 
 OF CHRIST. 
 
 " Thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth to thee." GENESIS 
 iii. 18. 
 
 "And when they had platted a crown of thorns, they put it 
 upon His head." MATTHEW xxvii. 29. 
 
 ATURE is a mirror in which we behold both the skill 
 and character of the Divine Artificer ; but the re- 
 flected image owing to the peculiarity of the material, or 
 of the angle of vision is not always a true one. While 
 innumerable objects display the very highest ideal of 
 beauty, and represent, we believe, the perfect form of 
 the Divine thought embodied in them, we not un- 
 frequently meet with objects that seem strange excep- 
 tions to the general rule, and impress us with a painful 
 sense of failure and imperfection ; useless rudimentary 
 teats of the males of mammalia ; wings of birds incapable 
 of flight ; the dart of the bee, the employment of which 
 causes its death ; the capsule of the poppy, and of many 
 of the Campanulas, whose dehiscence or opening occurs 
 near the summit, and renders dispersion of the seed 
 
 H 
 
98 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 difficult the downy tuft of many of the sterile seeds of 
 the Composite, while the fertile seeds have none, or only 
 possess a plume which falls off the seed instead of 
 serving for its transportation ; the neuter flowers of the 
 hydrangea and the guelder-rose. In every part of crea- 
 tion, we find examples of wasted energy and frustrated 
 design; foundations laid, but the building never com- 
 pleted; the skeleton formed, but never clothed with 
 living flesh ; an unceasing production of means that are 
 never used, embryos that are never vivified, germs that 
 are never developed. Nature, as Tennyson has thought- 
 fully said, seems so careful of the type, but so careless 
 of the single life. Each species keeps in existence by 
 the sheer force of untold numbers, that are continually 
 brought into the field, and sacrificed in the fierce struggle 
 for life ; and just in proportion as an animal or plant is 
 exposed to destruction, is it endowed with the power of 
 reproduction. How little of all the boundless pro- 
 digality of young life that year after year cheers us with 
 its bright promise, comes to maturity ! Of the myriad 
 blossoms that make the apple or the cherry tree gleam 
 in the orchard like a white cloud caught among the 
 branches, by far the largest number soon fall in showers, 
 and chill the green grass beneath with that saddest of all 
 storms, the summer snow. Of the blossoms that actually 
 set, but a very few grow and ripen into mellow fruit ; 
 the rest almost as soon as they acquire shape begin to 
 shrivel, and are speedily pushed off the parent twig by 
 the growth of their stronger rivals. And of all the 
 healthful apple-seeds and cherry-stones, annually shed 
 
V.] THORNS. 99 
 
 in our orchards, though each containing the germ of a 
 lovely and fruitful tree, not one in a thousand is 
 destined to take root, grow up, and accomplish what 
 might seem the purpose of its creation. This is but 
 one familiar example of what takes place everywhere 
 throughout the world of vegetation and the world of 
 animal life ; and it strikes us with an idea of incom- 
 pleteness with a sad feeling of the apparent contra- 
 diction between the means and the ends of creation. 
 
 We cannot, however, in such things, measure the 
 Divine proceedings by our human standards ; for, 
 taking a larger view of the subject, we find that 
 the imperfection of particular parts is necessary for 
 the perfection of the whole scheme, and all instances 
 of failure are made to work together for the general 
 good. The lavish profusion of blossoms in spring, com- 
 pared with the limited supply of fruit in autumn, is a 
 beautiful spectacle for the education of what is most 
 spiritual in man, an illustration of the truth that man 
 does not live by bread alcne, but by every word that 
 cometh out of the mouth of God by beauty as well as 
 by utility a symbol of the large-hearted, free-handed 
 goodness of Govl who gives us all things richly to enjoy. 
 In the lavish profusion of seeds and embryos, we have a 
 striking example of a higher law superseding a lower, 
 the law of sacrifice controlling the law of reproduction. 
 The increase of the individual species is rendered 
 subsidiary to the benefit of the whole economy of life. 
 The superfluous seeds and embryos which each plant or 
 animal produces are employed to minister to the 
 H 2 
 
ioo THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 necessities of higher creatures. It is to this tendency 
 of Nature to overflow its banks, to attempt more than 
 she can execute, to begin more than she can finish, that 
 we owe our own daily bread. For if the corn-plant 
 produced only a sufficient number of seeds barely to 
 perpetuate the species, there would be no annual miracle 
 of the multiplication of the loaves ; and man, always at 
 the point of starvation, could neither replenish and 
 subdue the earth, nor accomplish any of the great 
 purposes of his existence. 
 
 Thorns are among the most striking examples of 
 failure on the part of nature to reach an ideal per- 
 fection. They are not essential organs, perfect parts, 
 but in every case altered or abortive structures. They 
 are formed in two different ways. When the hairs that 
 occur on the stem of a plant are enlarged and hardened, 
 they form rigid opaque conical processes such as those 
 of the rose and the bramble. The so-called thorns oi 
 these plants are not, however, true thorns, but prickles, 
 for they have only a superficial origin, being produced 
 by the epidermis only, and having no connection w r ith 
 the woody tissue. They may be easily separated from 
 the stem, without leaving any mark or laceration behind. 
 True thorns or spines, on the contrary, have a deeper 
 origin and cannot be so removed. They are not com- 
 pound hardened hairs, but abnormal conditions of buds 
 and branches. A branch, owing to poverty of soil, or 
 unfavourable circumstances, does not develop itself; it 
 produces no twigs or leaves; it therefore assumes the 
 spinous or thorny form, terminating in a more or less 
 
v.] THORNS. 
 
 101 
 
 pointed extremity, as in the common hawthorn. In 
 some cases, as in the sloe, we see the transformation 
 going on at different stages ; some branches bearing 
 leaves on their lower portions and terminating in spines. 
 A bud by some means or other becomes abortive ; there 
 is a deficiency of nutriment to stimulate its growth; it 
 does not develop into blossom and fruit. Its growing 
 point, therefore, is hardened ; its scaly envelopes are 
 consolidated into woody fibre, and the whole bud be- 
 comes a sharp thorn. Leaves are also occasionally 
 arrested in their development and changed into thorns, 
 as in the stipules of Robinia, of the common barberry, 
 and of several species of acacia. The middle nerve of 
 the leaf in a few instances absorbs to itself all the 
 parenchyma or green cellular substance, and therefore 
 hardens into a thorn ; and in the holly all the veins of 
 the leaves become spiny. In all these cases thorns 
 are not necessary, but accidental appendages, growths 
 arrested and transformed by unfavourable circumstances; 
 and Nature, by the law of compensation, converts them 
 into means of defence to the plants on which they 
 are produced not very effective defences in most in- 
 stances, but still analogous to the spines of the hedge- 
 hog and the quills of the porcupine, and typical of the 
 plan according to which Nature supplies some method of 
 reservation to every living thing that is liable to be 
 injured. 
 
 By cultivation many thorny plants may be deprived of 
 their spines. The apple, the pear, and the plum tree, in 
 a wild state are thickly covered with thorns ; but when 
 
102 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 reared in the shelter of the garden, and stimulated by all 
 the elements most favourable for their full development, 
 they lose these thorns, which become changed into leafy 
 branches, and blossoming and fruit-bearing buds. In 
 this way man acquires the rights assigned to him by God, 
 and Nature yields to him the pledges of his sovereignty, 
 and reaches her own ideal of beauty and perfection by 
 his means. But when, on the other hand, he ceases to 
 dress and keep the garden, Nature regains her formei 
 supremacy, and brings back the cultivated plants to a 
 wilder and more disordered condition than at first. A 
 garden abandoned to neglect, owing to the absence or 
 the carelessness of the owner, presents a drearier 
 spectacle than the untamed wilderness ; everything 
 bursting out into rank luxuriance ; stems originally 
 smooth covered with prickles, and buds that would have 
 burst into blossoms changing into thorns. It is a 
 remarkable circumstance that whenever man cultivates 
 Nature, and then abandons her to her own unaided 
 energies, the result is far worse than if he had never 
 attempted to improve her at all. There are no such 
 thorns found in a state of nature as those produced by 
 the ground which man once has tilled, but has now 
 deserted. In the waste clearings amid the fernbrakes of 
 New Zealand, and in the primeval forests of Canada, 
 thorns may now be seen which were unknown there 
 before. The nettle and the thistle follow man wherever 
 he goes, and remain as perpetual witnesses of his presence, 
 even though he departs ; and around the cold hearth-stone 
 of the ruined shieling on the Highland moor, and on the 
 
v.] THORNS. 103 
 
 threshold of the crumbling log-hut in the Australian 
 bush, these social plants may be seen growing, forming 
 a singular contrast to the vegetation around them. 
 
 No country in the world, now that it has been 
 so long let out of cultivation, has such a variety and 
 abundance of thorny plants, as the once-favoured heri- 
 tage of God's people, the land flowing with milk and 
 honey. Travellers call the Holy Land "a land of 
 thorns." Giant thistles, growing to the height of a man 
 on horseback, frequently spread over regions once rich 
 and fruitful, as they do on the pampas of South America ; 
 and many of the most interesting historic spots and ruins 
 are rendered almost inaccessible by thickets of fiercely- 
 armed buckthorns. Entire fields are covered with the 
 troublesome, creeping stems of the spinous Ononis or 
 rest-harrow ; while the bare hill-sides are studded with 
 the dangerous capsules of the Paliurus and Tribulus. 
 Roses of the most prickly kinds abound on the lower 
 slopes of Hermon ; while the sub-tropical valleys of 
 Judaea are choked up in many places by the thorny 
 Lycium, whose lilac flowers and scarlet fruit cannot be 
 plucked owing to erect branches armed at all points 
 with spines. The feathery trees of the Zizyphus spina 
 Christi, or Christ's thorn, that fringe the banks of the 
 Jordan, and flourish on the marshy borders of the Lake 
 of Gennesaret, are beautiful to look at, but terrible to 
 handle, concealing as they do, under each of the small 
 delicately formed leaves of a brilliant green, a thorn 
 curved like a fish-hook, which grasps and tears every- 
 thing that touches it. Dr. Tristram mentions that in 
 
io 4 THE MINISTR Y OF NA TURE. [CHAP. 
 
 passing through thorny thickets near Jericho, the clothes 
 of his whole party were torn to rags. And in addition 
 to the immense variety of native thorns, for which there 
 are at least twenty different names in the Bible, several 
 prickly plants have been introduced from other countries, 
 as for instance the Opuntia or Indian fig, a species of 
 cactus that came originally from America, and is now 
 widely diffused over all the East. In short, thorny 
 plants, the evidences of a degenerate flora, and of 
 deteriorated physical conditions, now form the most con- 
 spicuous vegetation of Palestine, and supply abundant 
 mournful proof of the literal fulfilment of prophecy, 
 " Upon the land of my people shall come up thorns 
 and briers ; yea, upon all the houses of joy in the 
 joyous city." 
 
 This tendency of nature to produce a greater variety 
 of thorny plants in ground let out of cultivation, as 
 illustrated by the present vegetation of Palestine, throws 
 considerable light upon the curse pronounced upon 
 Adam when he had sinned : " Cursed is the ground for 
 thy sake ; thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth to 
 thee." Many individuals believe that we have in this 
 curse the origin of thorns and thistles that they were 
 previously altogether unknown in the economy of Nature. 
 It is customary to picture Eden as a paradise of 
 immaculate loveliness, in which everything was perfect, 
 and all the objects of Nature harmonized with the 
 holiness and happiness of our first parents. The ground 
 yielded only beautiful flowers and fruitful trees every 
 plant reached the highest ideal of form, colour, and 
 
v.] THORNS. 105 
 
 usefulness of which it was capable. Preachers and 
 poets in all ages have made the most of this beautiful 
 conception. It is not, however, Scripture or scientific 
 truth, but human fancy. Nowhere in the singularly 
 measured and reticent account given in Genesis of man's 
 first home, do we find anything, if rightly interpreted, 
 that encourages us to form such an ideal picture of it. 
 It was admirably adapted to man's condition, but it 
 was not in all respects ideally perfect. The vegeta- 
 tion that came fresh from God's hand, and bore the 
 impress of His seal that it was all very good, was 
 created for death and reproduction; for it was called 
 into being as " the herb yielding seed, and the fruit tree 
 bearing fruit, whose seed was in itself." We must re- 
 member, too, that it was before and not after the Fall, 
 that Adam was put into the garden to " dress and keep 
 it" The very fact that such a process of dressing and 
 keeping was necessary, indicates in the clearest manner 
 that Nature was not at first ideally perfect. The skill 
 and toil of man called in, presuppose that there were 
 luxuriant growths to be pruned, tendencies of vegetation 
 to be checked or stimulated, weeds to be extirpated, 
 tender flowers to be trained and nursed, and fruits to be 
 more richly developed. The primeval blessing consisted 
 in replenishing the earth and subduing it; and in no 
 other way could man subdue the earth than by culti- 
 vating it. But the process of cultivation of necessity 
 implies the existence of thorns and weeds. For in cul- 
 tivating any spot we have to contend against the great 
 law of Nature which spreads every plant as widely as its 
 
io6 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 constitution will permit. We wish to rear one special 
 useful plant at the expense of all others ; but Nature will 
 not suffer this exclusiveness, and therefore she persists in 
 thrusting upon us the aboriginal vegetation of the soil, 
 which we regard as weeds. From this law of the 
 universal diffusion of plants arises also, of necessity, the 
 tendency to form thorns. For when plants are struggling 
 with each other for the possession of the soil, some 
 species must be so crowded that they cannot develop 
 themselves freely; and therefore, owing to the exhaus- 
 tion of the soil and the pressure around them, they must 
 produce abortive branches or thorns. We have every 
 reason to believe that this law existed in the pre-Adamite 
 world, and was in full operation before the Fall. Man's 
 sin produced no change upon the laws of vegetable 
 development; and the Flora of Eden exhibited the 
 same physiological tendencies which our present vegeta- 
 tion exhibits. The trees of the garden among which 
 the Lord God walked, needed then, as they do now, the 
 cultivation of man to develop their thorns into leafy 
 branches, and blossoming and fruit-bearing buds ; and the 
 thistles had then, as now, to be cleared away, in order 
 that only what was beautiful and profitable might grow. 
 
 What then, we may ask, is implied in the language of 
 the curse, " Thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth 
 to thee " ? We are not, as I have said, to understand by 
 it that thorns and thistles were then for the first time 
 introduced that there was a sudden arrestment then 
 and there made by the Almighty in the formation of 
 branches, and thus a blight passed on this part of crea- 
 
v.] THORNS. 
 
 107 
 
 tion. If Adam had never seen any thorns previously, he 
 could not have understood the meaning of the curse pro- 
 nounced upon the ground, any more than he could have 
 understood the nature of the penalty threatened against 
 disobedience, unless there had been death in the world 
 before the Fall. The Hebrew form of the curse implies, 
 not that a new thing should happen, but that an old 
 thing should be intensified and exhibited in new rela- 
 tions. Just as the rainbow, which was formerly a mere 
 natural phenomenon, became after the Flood the symbol 
 of the great world covenant ; just as death, which during 
 all the long ages of geology had been a mere phase of 
 life, the termination of existence, became after the Fall 
 the most bitter and poisonous fruit of sin : so thorns, 
 which in the innocent Eden were the effects of a law 
 of vegetation, became significant intimations of man's 
 deteriorated condition. It is in relation to man, solely, 
 that we are to look at the curse ; for though the produc- 
 tion of briers and thorn-bearing plants may add to man's 
 labour and distress, it supplies food and enjoyment for 
 multitudes of inferior creatures, and especially birds 
 and insects. It seems, indeed, as if thorns, which are 
 most frequently produced upon trees and bushes that 
 have a dense habit of growth, were intended as an addi- 
 tional means of security to little birds that seek safety in 
 them from birds of prey whose large size effectually 
 prevents them from penetrating through the thorn-guarded 
 hedges into the interior. 
 
 Man, in Eden, was placed in the most favourable 
 circumstances. It was a garden specially prepared 
 
io8 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 by God himself for his habitation, and stocked with 
 all that he could reasonably require. It was to be 
 a pattern after which his own efforts in improving the 
 world were to be modelled a coign of vantage, a 
 select and blessed centre, from which he was by 
 degrees to subdue the wild prodigality of nature, and 
 make of the earth an extended paradise. And, therefore, 
 though the native tendencies of vegetation were not alto- 
 gether eradicated, they were so far restrained that the 
 dressing and keeping of the garden furnished him with 
 healthful employment for all his powers of body and 
 mind, and conferred upon him the dignity of developing 
 the perfection, which potentially, though not actually, 
 existed in Nature, and thus becoming a fellow-worker 
 with God. But when excluded from Eden, he had to 
 encounter, with powers greatly weakened by sin, the full, 
 merciless force of Nature's untamed energies ; energies, 
 too, excited into greater opposition against him by his 
 own efforts to subdue them. For, as I have already 
 said, the very process of cultivation, while it removes the 
 thorns and briers of the soil, will, if it be given up, pro- 
 duce a greater variety and luxuriance of thorns and 
 thistles than the ground originally produced. The very 
 fertility imparted to the soil would, if allowed to nourish 
 its native vegetation, result in a greater rankness of 
 useless growth. And therefore the tiller of the ground 
 must never relax his efforts. In the sweat of his brow 
 he must not only ceaselessly dig the soil, but extirpate 
 the thorns and thistles ; for Nature, kept back by main 
 strength, is ever watching her opportunity, and whenever 
 
v.] THORNS. IOQ 
 
 man's struggle with her is given up in weariness or idle- 
 ness, she pours all her wild hordes of ravenous weeds 
 upon the deserted fields, to revel and luxuriate in their 
 fatness, and the last state of these fields is worse than 
 the first 
 
 Although thorns therefore did exist before the Fall, 
 it is nevertheless an interesting and significant circum- 
 stance, that they are peculiar, so far as we can judge 
 from negative evidence, to the human epoch. Among 
 the fossil remains that have been found in the various 
 strata of the earth, we have revealed to us types of 
 plants which had no tendency to produce thorns. We 
 have abundance of fossil animals furnished with spines 
 and quills, and other weapons of offence and defence ; 
 but not one indisputable thorn or thistle has been found 
 in the older rocks. The vegetation of the ages previous 
 to the carboniferous era was principally cryptogamic. 
 During the coal period the plants were almost exclu- 
 sively ferns, lycopods, and pines. In the secondary 
 formations we find only cycads and palms, which exhibit 
 no spiny forms. The fossil plants of the tertiary strata 
 indicate the commencement of new types of organiza- 
 tion, corresponding to altered circumstances. The 
 cryptogams, conifers, and monocotyledons of former 
 epochs are replaced by the higher order of the dicotyle- 
 dons, many of which are still existing, and merely 
 present specific differences. Elms, beeches, maples, 
 hazels, alders, and others of our indigenous trees, begin 
 to appear; and with each succeeding period, a more 
 useful and varied vegetation is ushered upon the scene ; 
 
i io THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 until at last, at the eleventh hour of the creation day, 
 flower and fruit-bearing trees are produced " good for 
 food and pleasant to the sight" Among the plants 
 directly and especially associated with man, and appa- 
 rently introduced only a short time previous to his 
 advent, are those of the Rosal Alliance ; an order of 
 vegetation not only among the most extensive that is 
 known, numbering upwards of ten thousand species, but 
 also one of the most important, whether as regards the 
 beauty and grace of its blossoms, the richness and nutri- 
 tiousness of its fruits, or its applicability to a thousand 
 useful purposes. It includes the large class of the 
 leguminous plants, such as the pea, the bean, the clover, 
 the lucerne, all staple articles of culture by the farmer ; 
 also the almondworts such as the peach, the cherry, the 
 plum, the almond ; the appleworts such as the apple, 
 the pear, the sorb, the medlar, the quince, the service ; 
 and the roseworts such as the queenly rose in all its 
 endless varieties, the strawberry, the bramble, the rasp. 
 All these beautiful flowers, rich fruits, and useful vege- 
 tables, are of recent date ; their remains are found only 
 in deposits near the surface, and may be employed as 
 marks of the human period, in cases where no indication 
 of man or his works appear. Now it is a remarkable 
 circumstance, that it is to this great order of plants 
 specially connected with man, that thorns principally 
 belong. An unusually large proportion of its genera and 
 species exhibit an extraordinary tendency to produce 
 abortive buds and branches. All the previous floras 
 which appeared during the various geologic epochs were 
 
V.] THORNS. in 
 
 sombre and unproductive, could support no flocks 01 
 herds, or yield employment for the gardener or the 
 farmer ; and therefore they were destitute of thorns or 
 spines, were unsusceptible of improvement or degrada- 
 tion at the hands of man. They had no relation to 
 man's food and enjoyment, and thus could have had no 
 relation to his labour and pain. But no sooner did the 
 beauty and fruitfulness of plants specially created for the 
 gratification of man's senses appear, than thorns and 
 thistles appeared along with them. 
 
 I believe that the thorns and briers thus introduced in 
 connection with the human epoch, but before the Fall, 
 were anticipative consequences, prophetic symbols of 
 that Fall. We err greatly, if we suppose that sin came 
 into the world unexpectedly produced a sudden shock 
 and dislocation throughout nature, and took God as it 
 were by surprise that the atonement was a Divine after- 
 thought to remedy a defect in God's creative foresight 
 and natural law. He who sees the end from the begin- 
 ning, knew that such a mournful moral lapse would 
 happen that Creation would fall with its king and high 
 priest, and had therefore made preparations for it, not 
 only in the plans of heaven, but also in the objects and 
 arrangements of earth. There are many things in the 
 scheme of Nature which had a reference to the fact of 
 sin before it became a fact; which remind us unmis- 
 takeably that God, in fitting up this world to be the 
 habitation of a moral being who should fall through 
 sin, and be restored through suffering, had filled it with 
 types and symbols of that fall and that restoration. In 
 
1 1 2 THE MINISTR Y OF NA TURE. [CHAP. 
 
 the previous chapter we have seen that the Lamb 
 was slain from the foundation of the world, not only 
 in the counsels of the Godhead, but also in the types of 
 Nature in the one ruling type of Nature, the universal 
 law of sacrifice ; and so equally the sin which rendered 
 that expiation necessary was also typified from the 
 foundation of the world, in the objects and processes 
 of Nature. The more we study this mysterious subject 
 in the light both of science and revelation, the more 
 we shall be convinced that the epic of Paradise 
 Lost was written on all the stony tablets of the geologist, 
 and that countless tokens of death and degradation sang 
 in eras long before his advent, " of man's disobedience, 
 and the fruit of that forbidden tree." 
 
 But passing from the purely physical aspect of the 
 subject, let us look at it in its symbolical significance. 
 When God said to Adam, " Cursed is the ground for thy 
 sake; thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth to 
 thee," He acted according to a plan uniformly pursued 
 by Him in all His subsequent dispensations and deal- 
 ings with men ; by which in gracious condescension to 
 our twofold nature, and to the carnal and spiritual 
 classes of mankind, He associated the natural with the 
 spiritual, gave the outward sign of the inward spiritual 
 truth. He set the field of Nature with types of dege- 
 neracy and arrested growth, which should symbolize to 
 man the consequences upon his own nature of his 
 own sin. What then are the thorns, looking at them 
 in this typical aspect, produced by the sinful, accursed 
 soil of man's heart and life ? They may be classified 
 
THORNS. 
 
 under the four general heads of labour, pain, sorrow, 
 and death. 
 
 Labour is one of the thorns of the curse. " All things," 
 says the wise man, " are full of labour." Without it life 
 cannot be maintained. Unremitting labour from day to 
 day and from year to year except in the case of a few 
 races into whose lap Nature pours, almost unsolicited, 
 her prodigal stores, and who therefore continue children 
 in body and mind all their lives* is the condition upon 
 which we receive our daily bread. Much of this labour 
 is indeed healthy. In work alone is health and life ; and it 
 is for work that God has created faculties. But how much 
 
 * It is an interesting fact, showing the precariousness of a natural 
 spontaneous supply of food, and the necessity of man's labour for his 
 support, that even the bread-fruit tree is comparatively scarce, and 
 useful only as a cultivated plant. Its seeds, as Mr. Wallace tells us, 
 are entirely aborted by cultivation, and the tree therefore can only 
 be propagated by cuttings, which require considerable care and 
 trouble. The fruit of the wild variety, which spreads itself all over 
 the tropics by means of seed, is altogether worthless as food. In 
 proof of the same great law of life, that in the sweat of his face man 
 shall eat bread, Mr. Wallace further mentions, that the natives of 
 the Aru Islands, who have no staff of life, and depend upon any 
 wild roots and fruits they can find, are afflicted with terrible skin 
 diseases and ulcers ; while the Malays and the Hill Dyaks who grow 
 rice are clean-skinned. Cutaneous diseases are everywhere exceed- 
 ingly common among savages who do not cultivate the soil ; thus 
 emphatically testifying that man cannot make a beast of himself with 
 impunity, feeding like the cattle upon the herbs and fruits of the 
 earth, and taking no thought for the morrow. To maintain his health 
 and beauty he must cultivate the ground, and raise from it some 
 farinaceous product, such as corn or rice, which is capable of being 
 stored up for a time of scarcity, and so giving him a regular supply 
 of wholesome food. 
 
ii4 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 of it, nevertheless, is terrible drudgery, effectually hinder- 
 ing the development of the higher faculties of the mind 
 and soul, wearisome effort, vanity, and vexation of spirit ! 
 How much of failure is there in it, of disproportion be- 
 tween desires and results ! How much of it is like roll- 
 ing the fabled stone of Sisyphus up the steep hill only to 
 roll down again immediately like weaving ropes of sand ! 
 How often does the heart despair amid the unprofitable- 
 ness of all its labour under the sun ! We plough our fields 
 and sow our seed ; but instead of a bountiful harvest to 
 reward us, too often comes up a crop of thorns and thistles, 
 to wound the toiling hand and pierce the aching brow. 
 
 Then there is the thorn of pain the darkest mystery 
 of life. Some maintain that pain exists by necessity, 
 that it has its root in the essential order of the world. 
 It is the thorn that guards the rose of pleasure the 
 sting that protects the honey of life. There can be no 
 doubt, indeed, that it is one of the chief incentives to 
 the performance of actions on which the maintenance or 
 security of life hangs ; that it exalts pleasure by the con- 
 trast which it supplies, that it enters as an essential ele- 
 ment into the enjoyments of sense, and into the highest 
 thoughts and emotions of the soul. It is true that it 
 performs the same beneficent purpose in the economy 
 of man, which the abortive thorny growth does in that 
 of the plant ; that were it not for the warnings of pain, 
 these fearfully and wonderfully constructed bodies of 
 ours would often be seriously injured, without our know- 
 ledge, unless, indeed, our attention were kept in a con- 
 stant state of distressing watchfulness, worse almost than 
 
v.] THORNS. 115 
 
 any pain. But ask any martyr to physical suffering if that 
 explanation satisfies him. Why, if the purpose of pain 
 is a purely benevolent one, should it be so excessive ? 
 Why should it rend and rack the frame with agony ? Why 
 should it last so long? Why should our sensibility be 
 more developed for pain than for pleasure, and a slight 
 pain destroy much happiness ? Why should some begin 
 to suffer tortures as soon as they begin to live ; and be 
 destined in their mother's womb to lives of lingering dis- 
 ease ? Why, as in the case of burning, should it exhaust 
 the system, and thus produce the fatal result it was in- 
 tended to prevent ? Methinks, if pain were meant merely 
 to warn us of the presence of evil, and guard us against it, 
 that a much less degree and a shorter duration of it would 
 suffice. All these explanations of pain as a benevolent 
 agency are so manifestly insufficient, that we are driven 
 to seek a deeper reason for its existence. The Bible, 
 and the Bible alone, tells us the cause and the origin of 
 it. It tells us that it is nothing else than a witness for 
 sin the thorn which man's body, weakened and palsied 
 by sin, produces. Did that body continue in its primi- 
 tive condition of purity and perfection, its machinery 
 would have worked on unimpaired, perhaps, for ever ; 
 like the angelic body, or the body of Christ in heaven. 
 But the Fall put it out of gear, and made it unfit for its 
 original purpose. It therefore begins to die the moment 
 it begins to live, being never purely healthy. Man feels 
 in his body the physical consequences of the death which 
 his soul has died. He has the thorn in the flesh, the 
 messenger of Satan to buffet him, that he may be 
 
 I 2 
 
u6 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 reminded continually of his sin and mortality, and be 
 induced to walk softly all the days of his life. 
 
 Then there is the thorn of sorrow. Every branch of 
 the human tree may be arrested and transformed by 
 some casualty into a thorn of sorrow. The staff of 
 friendship upon which we lean may break and pierce the 
 hand. The bud of love which we cherish in our heart, 
 and feed with the life-blood of our affections, may be 
 blighted by the chill of death, and become a thorn to 
 wound us grievously. For six thousand years man has 
 been assiduously cultivating the tree of human life, but 
 he has never, by all his science and skill, been able to 
 divest it of its thorns of sorrow. An old grievance has 
 here and there been removed, but a new one has in- 
 variably taken its place. That civilization which has 
 lessened physical troubles, has rendered us more sus- 
 ceptible to mental ones ; and side by side with its mani- 
 fold sources of enjoyment, are opened up manifold 
 sources of suffering. And why is all this ? Why is man, 
 so highly cultivated, the possessor of such vast resources 
 of science and art, still born to trouble as the sparks fly 
 upward ? There is no possible way of accounting for it 
 save by the primeval curse : " In sorrow shalt thou eat of 
 it all the days of thy life." 
 
 And, lastly, as the climax of all life's evils, is death, the 
 prospect and the endurance of it, from both of which our 
 whole nature, originally made in the image of God, and 
 destined to live for ever, revolts with the utmost abhor- 
 rence. Such are the thorns which man's nature, under 
 the withering, distorting curse of sin, produces. Cursed 
 
THORNS. ii 7 
 
 is the ground within, as well as the ground without, for 
 man's sake ; and in labour, in pain, in sorrow, and in 
 death, does he eat of its fruit. 
 
 From all these thorns Jesus came to deliver us. The 
 Second Adam in the poverty of His condition has re- 
 covered for us all that the first Adam in the plenitude of 
 his blessings lost. The Son of Man was tempted in that 
 wilderness to which sin had reduced the world ; and in 
 consequence of His overcoming the temptation, He has 
 obtained a pledge that the wilderness will become a fruit- 
 ful field, and the fruitful field be counted for a forest. 
 His miracles were first-fruits of the world's restoration, 
 symbols of man's recovered dominion over nature. And 
 day by day, as the influence of Christ's great victory over 
 the tempter is more widely and deeply felt, the prophecy 
 is being fulfilled, that " instead of the thorn shall come 
 up the fir tree, and instead of the briar shall come up the 
 myrtle tree, and it shall be to the Lord for a name, for 
 an, everlasting sign that shall not be cut off." The 
 Roman soldiers platted a crown of thorns and put it 
 upon the head of Jesus ; but they little knew the signifi- 
 cance of the act. Upon the august brow of man's surety 
 and substitute was thus placed in symbol, what was done 
 in spiritual reality, a chaplet woven of those very thorns 
 which the ground, cursed for man's sake, produced. 
 None of these thorns grew in the sacred soil of Jesus' 
 heart. But He who knew no sin was made sin for us. 
 He was wounded for our transgressions, and bruised for 
 our iniquities. He could, no doubt, by the exercise of 
 His almighty power, remove the thorns of man's life. 
 
Ii8 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 He who created the world by a word, had only to com- 
 mand, and it should be done. But not in this way could 
 the necessities of the case be met. It was not mere 
 arbitrary power that called the thorns into existence ; it 
 was justice and judgment : and, therefore, mere arbitrary 
 power could not eradicate them ; it required mercy and 
 truth. And mercy and truth owild be reconciled with 
 justice and judgment only by the obedience and sacrifice 
 of the Son of God. Jesus had, therefore, to wear the 
 thorns which man's sin had developed, in order that man 
 might enjoy the peaceful fruits of righteousness which 
 Christ's atonement had produced. 
 
 And who can tell what suffering the wearing of these 
 thorns occasioned Him ? The mere physical laceration 
 and pain of the material thorns were as nothing, were 
 altogether unfelt under the pressure of far heavier suffer- 
 ings in His soul. It was not outward thorns, but inward 
 spiritual thorns, that caused Him to sweat great drops 
 of blood in the garden of Gethsemane. It .vas not the 
 sharp sting of the crown of thorns upon His brow on the 
 cross, that bowed His head with agony, but the pressure 
 of that " sorrow's crown of sorrow," the mental anguish 
 of imputed sin so abhorrent to His high and holy nature. 
 Made a curse for us, Jesus was made liable to every sor- 
 row to which the curse has subjected us. Every thorn 
 which the sinful soil of man's heart has produced, was 
 woven into the crown of thorns which pierced His brow. 
 And what is the result? By wearing these thorns He 
 has blunted them, plucked them out of our path, out of 
 our heart, out of our life. By enduring them He con- 
 
v.] THORNS. 119 
 
 quered them. The crown of pain became the crown of 
 triumph ; and the submission to ignominy and suffering 
 became the assertion and establishment of a sovereignty 
 over every form of suffering. Evil is now a vanquished 
 power. Every woe bears upon it the inscription " over- 
 come." He bore the thorny crown of labour, and labour 
 is now a sacred thing, a precious discipline, a merciful 
 education. It is the lowest step of the ladder by which 
 man ascends the Edenic height from which he fell. It 
 is the necessary physical foundation upon which his 
 education as a spiritual being is based ; standing in the 
 same relation to his growth in grace, as the work of the 
 coral zoophyte to the intelligent labour of man who in- 
 habits the island which it builds. There is no labour in 
 vain in the Lord. No disappointment mars or embitters 
 any work done in Christ and for His glory. He wore the 
 thorny crown of pain, and pain is now robbed of the 
 element that exasperates our nature against it. By His 
 own example He teaches us that we must be made per- 
 fect through suffering ; and knowing this, we do not feel 
 pain to be less, but we feel a strength arid a patience 
 which enable us to rise superior to it. As the Prince of 
 sufferers, He wore the thorny crown of sorrow, and He 
 has made, in the experience of His afflicted ones, that 
 abortive thorn to produce the blossom of holiness and the 
 fruit of righteousness. Sorrow is no more to the Chris- 
 tian the curse of Adam, but the cross of Christ. It is the 
 crown and badge of his royal dignity, the proof of Divine 
 sonship. Wearing his crown of sorrow, the Christian is 
 a prince in disguise, and bears the marks of the Lord 
 
120 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 Jesus, and has a fellowship with Him in His sorrows ; 
 a fellowship which involves unspeakable blessedness and 
 assured victory. And, lastly, He wore the thorny crown 
 of death ; and therefore He says, " If a man keep my 
 sayings, he shall not see death." He has indeed to pass 
 through the state, but the bitterness of death for him is past. 
 He has only to finish his course with joy ; to fall asleep in 
 Jesus ; to depart and be with Christ, which is far better. 
 Wonderful love, stronger than death, overcoming death, 
 swallowing up death in victory ! Wonderful that by the 
 light and power of that love, the sharpest and deadliest 
 thorn on life's tree, should be developed into the im- 
 mortal flowers and fruits of the all-perfect paradise of 
 heaven ! 
 
 Such, then, is the way in which our Saviour has borne, 
 and in bearing has removed, the thorns from the life 
 of those who believe in His name. In all our afflic- 
 tions He is afflicted ; and therefore the angel of His 
 presence saves us. That thorny crown of His humilia- 
 tion and sufferings is henceforth the emblem of victory, 
 in which all His redeemed shall triumph. Jesus has 
 conquered for us, and we have conquered in Him. In 
 the endurance of the thorns of the primeval curse, labour, 
 and pain, and sorrow, and whatever else of evil may 
 be in our lot, let us seek then to be distinguished from 
 the world, and likened to our Lord, by the patient, trust- 
 ing spirit in which we bear them ! And let us use 
 them, under His blessing, as a discipline and a prepara- 
 tion for that crown of glory which is the purchase 
 solely of the Redeemer's crown of thorns ! 
 
v.1 PREVENTING MERCIES. 121 
 
 PREVENTING MERCIES. 
 
 " Let Thy tender mercies speedily prevent us." PSALM Ixxix. 8. 
 
 THE hawthorn hedge that keeps us from intruding, 
 
 Looks very fierce and bare, 
 When, stripped by winter, every branch protruding 
 
 Its thorns that wound and tear. 
 
 But spring-time comes ; and, like the rod that budded, 
 
 Each twig breaks out in green ; 
 And cushions soft of tender leaves are studded, 
 
 Where spines alone were seen. 
 
 And honeysuckle, its bright wreath upbearing, 
 
 The prickly top adorns ; 
 Its golden trumpets victory declaring 
 
 Of blossoms over thorns. 
 
 Nature in this mute parable unfoldeth 
 
 A lesson sweet to me ; 
 God's goodness in reproof my eye beholdeth, 
 
 And His severity. 
 
 There is no grievous chastening but combineth 
 
 Some brightness with the gloom ; 
 Round every thorn in the flesh there twineth 
 
 Some wreath of softening bloom. 
 
 The sorrows that to us seem so perplexing, 
 
 . Are mercies kindly sent, 
 
 To guard our wayward souls from sadder vexing, 
 And greater ills prevent. 
 
 ~OW THB 
 
 [TJHIVERSITY; 
 
THE MINISTR Y OF NA TVRE. [CHAP. 
 
 Like angels stern, they meet us when we wander 
 
 Out of the narrow track, 
 With sword in hand, and yet with voices tender, 
 
 To warn us quickly back. 
 
 We fain would eat the fruit that is forbidden, 
 
 Not heeding what God saith ! 
 But by these flaming cherubim we're chiddea 
 
 Lest we should pluck our death. 
 
 To save us from the pit, no screen of roses 
 
 W ould serve for our defence ; 
 The hindrance that completely interposes, 
 
 Stings back with violence. 
 
 At first, when smarting from the shock, complaining 
 
 Of wounds that freely bleed, 
 God's hedges of severity us paining, 
 
 May seem severe indeed. 
 
 No tender veil of heavenly verdure brightens 
 
 The branches fierce and bare ; 
 No sun of comfort the dark sky enlightens, 
 
 Or warms the wintry air. 
 
 But afterwards, God's blessed spring-time cometh, 
 
 And bitter murmurs cease ; 
 The sharp severity that pierced us bloometh, 
 
 And yields the fruits of peace. 
 
 The Wreath of Life its healing leaves discovers, 
 
 Twined round each wounding stem, 
 And, climbing by the thorns, above them hovers 
 
 Its flowery diadem. 
 
 The Last Day only, all God's plan revealing, 
 
 Shall teach us what we owe 
 To these preventing mercies, thus concealing 
 
 Themselves in masks of woe ; 
 
PREVENTING MERCIES. 
 
 Shall tell what wrongs they kept us from committing, 
 
 What lust and pride they crossed, 
 What depths of sin they fenced, in which unwitting 
 
 Our souls would have been lost. 
 
 Then let us sing, our guarded way thus wending, 
 
 Life's hidden snares among, 
 Of mercy and of judgment sweetly blending ; 
 
 Earth's sad but lovely song. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 TREACLE, OR LIKE CURES LIKE. 
 
 " Is there no balm (treacle in old version) in Gilead ; is there no 
 physician there ? why then is not the health of the daughter of 
 my people recovered ? " JEREMIAH viii. 22. 
 
 A/T UCH of late years has been done in what may be 
 called the geology of language. Philologists have 
 been diligently at work with their hammers, splitting 
 open dull and unpromising-looking blocks of words, 
 and finding many curious fossils within them, that tell a 
 tale of themselves as wonderful as any Oozoon or Old- 
 hamia, of the Laurentian or Devonian formations. In 
 some of the most familiar terms they have found a mine 
 of historical interest, bringing down to us the memory 
 of some obsolete custom or long-forgotten incident 
 Among the most remarkable of the words derived from 
 ancient languages, and now naturalized in our English 
 tongue, which have brought with them some historical 
 association or memorial, is the subject of this chapter. 
 The word treacle is derived from the Greek word therion, 
 which meant primarily a wild beast of any kind, but was 
 afterwards more especially applied to animals which had 
 
vi.] TREACLE, OR LIKE CURES LIKE. 125 
 
 a venomous bite. By many Greek writers the term was 
 used to denote a serpent or viper specifically. In this 
 sense it is employed in the last chapter of the Acts of 
 the Apostles, where we are told that " when Paul had 
 gathered a bundle of sticks, and laid them on the fire, 
 there came a viper out of the heat and fastened on his 
 hand. And when the barbarians saw the venomous beast 
 hang on his hand, they said among themselves, No doubt 
 this man is a murderer, whom, though he hath escaped 
 the sea, yet vengeance suffereth not to live. And he 
 shook off the beast into the fire, and felt no harm." The 
 Greek word translated " beast," in the fourth and fifth 
 verses, is therion; and though the word rendered " viper " 
 in the preceding verse is different, being echidna, it never- 
 theless specializes the meaning of therion, and proves 
 that it refers to this species of serpent. But what con- 
 nection, it may well be asked, can there be between a 
 viper and treacle ? How came such a sweet substance 
 to have such a venomous origin ? Here we are intro- 
 duced, in the way of explanation, to one of those strange 
 superstitions that were exceedingly common in ancient 
 times, when little else but foolish marvels filled the pages 
 of natural history. It was a popular belief at one time, 
 that the bite of the viper could only be cured by the 
 application to the wound of a piece of the viper's flesh, 
 or a decoction called viper's wine, or Venice treacle, made 
 by boiling the flesh in some fluid or other. Galen, the 
 celebrated Greek physician of Pergamos, who lived in 
 the second century, describes the custom as very preva- 
 lent in his time. - At Aquileia, under the patronage of 
 
126 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 the Emperor Marcus Aurelius, he prepared a system of 
 pharmacy, which he published under the name of The- 
 riaca, in allusion to this superstition. The name given 
 to the extraordinary electuary of viper's flesh was theriake, 
 from therion, a viper. By the usual process of altera- 
 tion which takes place in the course of. a few generations 
 in words that are commonly used, theriake became 
 theriac. Then it was transformed into the diminutive 
 theriacle, afterwards triacle, in which form it was used 
 by Chaucer ; and finally it assumed its present mode of 
 spelling as early as the time of Milton and Waller. 
 It changed its meaning and application with its various 
 changes of form, signifying first the confection of the 
 viper's flesh applied to the wound inflicted by the 
 viper's sting; then any antidote, whatever might be its 
 nature, or whatever might be the origin of the evil it 
 was intended to cure. Dr. Johnson, in the edition of 
 his Dictionary published in 1805, defines treacle as "a 
 medicine made up of many ingredients," and quotes in 
 illustration of this definition a sentence from Boyle : 
 " The physician that has observed the medicinal virtues 
 of treacle without knowing the nature of the sixty odd 
 ingredients, may cure many patients with it ;" and another 
 from Fleger : " Treacle-water has much of an acid in 
 it." Afterwards, medical prescriptions came to be pre- 
 pared in some vehicle intended to cover their nauseous 
 taste or disagreeable look ; and this vehicle was generally 
 some kind of sweet syrup or sugary confection to which 
 the name of treacle was applied. When the viscous 
 substance known as " molasses " was imported from the 
 
vi.] TREACLE, OR LIKE CURES LIKE. 127 
 
 West Indies, it formed a welcome addition to the old 
 limited list of vehicles for medicine ; and so completely 
 did it usurp the name of treacle, that very few are aware 
 that the word ever had any other meaning or application. 
 Throughout our English literature we find frequent 
 allusions to treacle in the symbolical sense of an anti- 
 dote against evil ; allusions which, without the foregoing 
 explanation of the origin of the word, would be utterly 
 unintelligible to the great majority of readers. In one of 
 the early editions of the English Bible, the familiar text 
 in Jeremiah, " Is there no balm in Gilead ? " is rendered, 
 " Is there no treacle in Gilead ? " Sir Thomas More has 
 this expression, "A most strong treacle against those 
 venomous heresies." Chaucer says of our Lord, " Christ, 
 which that is to every harm triacle; " and Lydgate, the 
 " monk of Bury," a poet whose writings are now all but 
 forgotten, has a kindred idea, which is expressed in 
 these lines : 
 
 " There is no venom, so parlious in sharpnes, 
 As when it hath of treacle a likenes. " 
 
 Waller wrote a poem on the occasion of the restoration 
 of Charles II., in which he speaks of the marvellous 
 change that would be produced by the event upon the 
 views and conduct of the former enemies of his royal 
 master. He thus addresses the king : 
 
 " Offenders now, the chiefest, do begin 
 To strive for grace and expiate their sin ; 
 All winds blow fair that did the world embroil, 
 Your vipers treacle yield, and scorpions oil. " 
 
 As if he had said in plain prose, that even those who 
 
128 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 had slain the king's father had now repented of their sin 
 and become loyal to the son, like vipers which had in- 
 flicted a painful wound, but now yielded by their flesh a 
 medicine to heal it. Milton, too, who made everything 
 subservient to his purpose, employed this curious old 
 legend to point his language, for he speaks of " the 
 sovran treacle of sound doctrine." Many other instances 
 might be quoted ; but these are sufficient to show how 
 familiar the early English writers were with the symbolical 
 use of treacle, and how admirably they extracted the 
 moral from the once popular superstition. 
 
 The fundamental principle that gave origin to treacle 
 was one that was extensively adopted and acted upon in 
 ancient times. Similia similibus curantur " Like cures 
 like " was the motto of nearly all the medical practi- 
 tioners from Galen downwards. What were called sym- 
 pathetic ointments, supposed to cure wounds if the weapons 
 that inflicted them were smeared with them, without any 
 application to the wounds themselves were everywhere 
 greatly in request. Prescriptions as a rule were founded 
 upon some real or fancied resemblance between the re- 
 medy prescribed and the organ diseased almost never 
 upon the inherent curative property of the medicine. 
 Lichens, which lead a mysterious mesmerized or sus- 
 pended existence, and grow in curious situations where 
 enchanters might weave their unhallowed spells, were 
 favourite remedies for mysterious complaints. The lung- 
 wort, a kind of lichen which grows in immense shaggy 
 masses on trees and rocks in subalpine woods, was 
 highly recommended as an infallible cure for all diseases 
 
vi.] TREACLE, OR LIKE CURES LIKE. 129 
 
 of the lungs, owing to the resemblance between its re- 
 ticulated and lobed upper surface, of a greyish brown 
 colour, and these delicate human organs. Hundreds 
 of similar instances might be given, in which the colour 
 and shape of a remedy were everything, and its medi- 
 cinal virtue nothing. The object, whether animal, vege- 
 table, or mineral, that caused the disorder, contributed 
 the proper medicament for its cure. In the writings 
 of Paracelsus and Aldrovandus, who combined the study 
 of alchemy and other occult sciences with that of medi- 
 cine, we find constant reference to such nostrums ; and 
 numerous recipes are given for ointments, draughts and 
 applications, made up according to this rule of the 
 most extraordinary substances, which were sold for 
 very large sums, and were said to have effected remark- 
 able cures. In short, almost all the drugs of the me- 
 diaeval pharmacopoeia were selected and administered 
 entirely upon this principle of mutual similarity between 
 remedy and disease. A perusal of the medical treatises 
 of our ancestors leaves upon our minds a very decided 
 impression of the power of the human imagination, 
 and the strength of the human constitution, as well as 
 quickens our gratitude that we live in times when treacle 
 is given as treacle, and not as viper's flesh, or some 
 abomination more disgusting still. 
 
 There are traces in the Bible of the principle of treacle 
 as applied in the cure of disease, which are exceedingly 
 interesting and instructive. Some of the most remark- 
 able of our Lord's miracles were based upon it. We are 
 told by St. Mark of the healing of a man deaf and dumb 
 
 K 
 
130 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 in Galilee, by our Saviour putting his fingers to his ears 
 and touching his tongue with his own spittle. Saliva 
 jejuna was supposed by the ancients to possess general 
 curative properties, and to be especially efficacious in 
 ophthalmia and other inflammatory diseases of the eyes. 
 Pliny, in his Natural History, speaks of this therapeutic 
 virtue in high terms; and both Tacitus and Suetonius 
 record the case of a blind man who was supposed to 
 have been cured of his blindness by the Emperor Ves- 
 pasian, through the application of an eye-salve made of 
 spittle. We are not, however, to suppose for a moment 
 that our Lord was misled by this popular notion, and 
 that He was here acting merely as an ordinary physician 
 acquainted with certain remedies in use among men. It 
 was not for its medicinal virtue that He made use of the 
 spittle. The application of it was entirely a symbolical 
 action, indicating that as it was the man's tongue that was 
 bound, so the moisture of the tongue was to be the sign 
 of its unloosing, and the means by which it would be 
 enabled to move freely in the mouth, and to articulate 
 words. And the use of Christ's own saliva in the cure 
 showed that the healing virtue resided in and came forth 
 from Christ's own body alone, and was imparted through 
 loss of His substance. A somewhat similar example of 
 the same principle may be seen in the opening of the 
 eyes of the man born blind. The use of clay as a healing 
 plaster was not altogether unknown. Serenus Samonicus, 
 a Roman physician in the time of Caracalla, who wrote 
 a poem upon medicine, says in it, " If an unwonted 
 tumour arise in empty pride, besmear thy swollen eyes 
 
VI.] TREACLE, OR LIKE CURES LIKE. 131 
 
 all over with loathsome mire." But this healing power of 
 clay was limited to the mere alleviation of inflammations, 
 tumours, &c. It could have had no effect whatever in 
 giving sight to the blind. Our Lord used the clay made 
 of His own spittle as a conductor or channel, not in itself 
 needed, by which His power might be conveyed, and the 
 man's weak faith strengthened by something sacramental 
 or external. It is dust that most frequently hurts and 
 blinds the eye ; our Lord therefore took dust and moulded 
 it with His own spittle into clay, as a remedy for healing 
 the eye and restoring the lost vision. 
 
 But we must not confine the application of the prin- 
 ciple under consideration to the few cases recorded in 
 the Gospels, in which our Lord made use of an outward 
 remedy, having some analogy with the disease, as the 
 vehicle or treacle of His miraculous power. All Christ's 
 miracles, without exception, were in one sense illustra- 
 tions of the principle. The effects of the curse in the 
 diseases and disabilities of mankind were removed by 
 Christ bearing the curse while performing the miracles. 
 " Himself took our infirmities and bare our sicknesses." 
 The evil that He cured He suffered in His own soul. 
 The sorrow that He alleviated cost Himself an equal 
 degree of sorrow. Virtue went out of Him in proportion 
 to the amount of healing virtue imparted. Gain to others 
 was loss to Him. By fasting and prayer He cast out un- 
 clean spirits ; by groaning in spirit and weeping He raised 
 the dead Lazarus to life. The curse that He removed 
 He came under Himself; so that in this sense Chaucer's 
 words, already quoted, are wonderfully significant and 
 K 2 
 
132 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 applicable " Christ, which that is to every harm triacle." 
 So also in the miracle of healing the nauseous fountain 
 at Jericho by Elisha. The water was brackish and bitter, 
 and the prophet put into it the pungent and bitter salt. 
 This in ordinary circumstances would only have made 
 matters worse, and spoiled irretrievably instead of im- 
 proving the quality of the water. But in this case the 
 salt made the salt spring permanently sweet, and fit for 
 drinking or irrigation, and it was an emblem, as the great 
 preservative of nature, of purity and incorruptibility. 
 
 We see the principle of treacle, not only in the 
 miracles, but also in the parables, of Scripture, espe- 
 cially in those acted or dramatic parables of the Old 
 Testament, in which the prophets entered so deeply into , 
 the spirit of their mission as to be identified with it. 
 Saul laid hold of the skirt of Samuel's mantle as he 
 turned indignantly away from him, and it rent, and the 
 prophet said to the unhappy king, " The Lord hath rent 
 the kingdom of Israel from thee this day, and hath given 
 it to a neighbour of thine that is better than thou." Ahijah 
 the Shilonite rent his new garment in twelve pieces in 
 the presence of Jeroboam, and he said to him, " Take 
 thee ten pieces ; for thus saith the Lord, the God of 
 Israel, Behold I will rend the kingdom out of the hand 
 of Solomon, and will give ten tribes to thee." Jeremiah 
 concealed his girdle in a hole of a rock near the 
 Euphrates, and, digging it up again after many days, 
 found it marred and rotten and profitable for nothing 
 as a token that thus the pride of Judah and Jerusalem 
 should be marred. Hananiah took the yoke from off 
 
vi.] TREACLE, OR LIKE CURES LIKE. 133 
 
 the prophet Jeremiah's neck, and brake it in the pre- 
 sence of all the people, as a proof that so the yoke 
 of Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon, should be broken 
 from the neck of all nations within the space of two full 
 years. Agabus took the girdle of Paul, and bound his 
 own hands and feet, and said, " So shall the Jews of 
 Jerusalem bind the man that owneth this girdle, and shall 
 deliver him into the hands of the Gentiles." But the 
 most striking and impressive form of these acted parables 
 was that exhibited by Isaiah, when he walked naked and 
 barefoot for three years, that by this symbol he might 
 show to the Israelites that the king of Assyria would lead 
 away the Egyptian prisoners and the Ethiopian captives, 
 young and old, naked and barefoot, to the shame of 
 Egypt. Of the same kind was the marriage of Hosea 
 with an adulteress, in token that by her expiation might 
 be shown the desolation and the restoration of Israel ; 
 and also the death of Ezekiel's wife, for which he was 
 forbidden to mourn, as symbolical of the unlamented 
 destruction of the temple of Jerusalem, and the death 
 of the Jewish sons and daughters by the sword. The 
 names, too, of Isaiah's sons, Shear-jashub, or the remnant 
 shall return, and Maher-shalal-hash-baz, or make haste to 
 the spoil and hasten the prey, were for signs and for won- 
 ders in Israel, from the Lord of hosts which dwelleth in 
 Mount Zion. 
 
 In the economy of redemption we find many re- 
 markable examples of the principle of treacle. The rule 
 that "like cures like" is engraved on the very forefront 
 of our salvation. It is shadowed forth in type and 
 
134 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP 
 
 symbol ; it is foretold in prophecy ; it is clearly seen in 
 realized fact. The brazen serpent was lifted up by Moses 
 in the wilderness to heal those who were bitten by the 
 fiery serpents, as a prophetic symbol that the Son of man 
 would be lifted up on the cross to heal those who had 
 been deceived into sin by the old serpent, the devil. 
 And in this type there was a significant fitness. It was 
 not an actual dead serpent that was exhibited ; for that 
 would have implied that Christ was really sinful. It was 
 a brazen serpent, formed of the brass of which the 
 brazen altar and the brazen laver were made, in token 
 that though Christ was our substitute, He was yet holy, 
 harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners. Through- 
 out the whole of our Saviour's propitiatory work, we can 
 trace this similarity between the evil and the cure; a 
 similarity indicated very plainly and emphatically in the 
 first announcement of the scheme of redemption to our 
 fallen first parents. The serpent's head could only be 
 bruised through the heel of the woman's seed being 
 wounded by the serpent's fang. By faithlessness and 
 pride, man sinned and fell ; by treachery, false witness, 
 and a cross, man is redeemed. It was not as God that 
 Christ wrought out man's salvation, but as man. " For- 
 asmuch, then, as the children are partakers of flesh and 
 blood, He also himself likewise took part of the same." 
 It was in the likeness of sinful flesh that He condemned 
 sin in the flesh, that the righteousness of the law might 
 be fulfilled in us who walk not after the flesh, but after the 
 Spirit On the day of atonement, He was represented 
 by the scapegoat ; and this is the symbol of the wicked, 
 
vi. J TREACLE, OR LIKE CURES LIKE. 135 
 
 who shall be the goats on the left of the throne on the 
 day of judgment. He who knew no sin was made sin 
 yea, a curse for us, that we might be made the 
 righteousness of God in Him. He was made under the 
 law, that He might redeem us from its curse. Through 
 death He destroyed him that had the power of death ; 
 that is, the devil. It is by His blood that our blood- 
 guiltiness is washed away. It is by His poverty that 
 our poverty is enriched. It is by His humiliation that 
 our humiliation is exalted. It is by His stripes that our 
 stripes are healed. It is by His death that our death is 
 quickened into life. 
 
 So also, in order that we may realize personally and 
 individually the benefits of Christ's redemption, we must 
 be identified with Him by faith ; there must be mutual 
 sympathy, partnership, and reciprocity of feeling " I in 
 you, and ye in Me." We must be partakers of His nature 
 as He was partaker of ours. We must take up our cross 
 and follow Him. We must know the fellowship of His 
 sufferings. If we be planted together in the likeness of 
 His death, we shall be also in the likeness of His resurrec- 
 tion ; if we suffer with Him, we shall reign with Him. To 
 the unbeliever there seems the same inadequacy between 
 cause and effect in this salvation from the curse by means 
 of the cross, that there appears to us in the old mediaeval 
 cures by the treacle which vipers yield. The men of 
 Jericho might have ridiculed the prophet's attempt to 
 heal the bitter fountain by his cruse of salt. The serpent- 
 bitten Israelites might have refused to look at the brazen 
 serpent, deeming it a foolish and impotent charm. Had 
 
136 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 both of these allowed themselves to reason upon the 
 improbability of the desired result being accomplished 
 by such means, had they been swayed by the opinions 
 or speculations of men, the fountain, in the one case, 
 would have flowed for ever in all its bitterness, and the 
 Israelites, in the other case, would have perished in their 
 torment. And so Christ crucified may be to the Jews 
 a stumbling-block, and to the Greeks foolishness. The 
 salvation of God may not be suitable and adequate in 
 the eyes of man. " What special virtue," he may say, 
 " is there in the sufferings and death of a poor Jew 
 eighteen hundred years ago, to atone for my sins and 
 make my peace with God ? The whole system is just a 
 repetition of the mediaeval superstition, and is therefore 
 offensive, incredible, and impracticable." So have many 
 argued, and died in their sins. God says, "There is no 
 other name given under heaven among men by whom we 
 can be saved, but the name of Jesus." The deadly bite 
 of the serpent of sin can only be cured by looking unto 
 Him who is lifted up on the cross. The fountain of sin 
 and death can only be healed by the salt of Christ's 
 redemption ; and putting in the sugared sweets of our 
 own devices and plans of salvation and good works will 
 never change its bitterness ; but it will flow a fountain of 
 death for ever for us. 
 
 In medicine also the same principle may be found. 
 Homoeopathy was anticipated by the ancient use of 
 treacle. The essential character of Hahnemann's famous 
 system is that such remedies should be employed against 
 any disease, as in a healthy person would produce a 
 
vi.] TREACLE, OJt LIKE CURES LIKE. 137 
 
 similar, though not precisely the same disease. The 
 method of administering remedies in infinitesimal doses 
 is not necessarily a part of the system, and it was not 
 originally practised, although in the end it was adopted 
 as a vital article of the creed. The fundamental principle 
 of homoeopathy is that " like cures like ; " and, to find 
 suitable medicines against any disease, experiments are 
 made on healthy persons, in order to determine the effect 
 upon them. Thus hooping-cough and certain eruptions 
 of the skin of a chronic nature are supposed to be cured 
 by an attack of measles ; inflammation of the eyes, 
 asthma, and dysentery, are homoeopathically cured by 
 small-pox ; arnica heals bruises because it produces the 
 nervous symptoms which accompany bruises ; camphor 
 cures typhus fever because in a poisonous dose it lowers 
 the vitality of the system ; wine is a good remedy for 
 inflammation because it inflames the constitution ; quinine 
 or Peruvian bark is the best remedy against intermittent 
 fever or ague because, when taken in considerable 
 quantity by a healthy person, it produces feverishness 
 and furred tongue ; and so on over a long list of 
 medicines. The doctrine of homoeopathy has been held 
 up to ridicule and assailed with every conceivable argu- 
 ment by the disciples of the Hippocratic or allopathic 
 system. It does not lie in my province to judge between 
 the opponents. There are numerous analogies in medi- 
 cine this every medical man will allow ; but whether 
 they are sufficiently numerous and exact to found a 
 scientific system upon them, is a question that is by no 
 means settled to the satisfaction of all. It is a fact dis- 
 
138 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 puted by no one, that certain remedies resemble, in their 
 operation upon the healthy body, the diseases they were 
 employed to cure. Vaccination, for instance, is univer- 
 sally practised as a prophylactic or preventive remedy 
 against small-pox ; the vaccine disease being a local, less 
 dangerous and non-infectious form of small-pox. Many 
 of the febrile diseases have a mysterious and inexplicable 
 power of protecting, within certain limits, against a 
 recurrence of them. Those who take measles, small- 
 pox, typhus, yellow fever, and other complaints of that 
 class, very seldom indeed have another attack of the 
 same kind throughout the whole course of their lives. 
 Certain medicines are administered to produce one 
 disease or unnatural condition of the system, in order to 
 remove another. The evil that has deranged the body 
 in many instances can only be healed by another evil 
 that will temporarily derange it. A very popular mode 
 of taking the pain out of a burn is to expose the injured 
 part as long as possible to the fire ; and it is well known 
 that the only safe way of restoring animation to a frost- 
 bitten limb is by rubbing it with snow or putting it in 
 ice-cold water. Both the homoeopathic and allopathic 
 principles of medicine coincide in certain cases. Bromine, 
 introduced into the respiratory organs, causes false mem- 
 branes to be formed in the larynx of pigeons. In croup 
 and diphtheria it has therefore been found to act as a 
 useful remedy first hardening the adventitious mem- 
 brane, and then reducing it to dust. Taking a mere out- 
 side general view of the healing art, like does to some 
 extent cure like. It is the bitter medicine that cures the 
 
VI.] TREACLE, OR LIKE CURES LIKE. 139 
 
 bitter disease. All medicines are nauseous, because all 
 illness is nauseous. 
 
 There is a profound philosophy in this principle of 
 treacle that applies to all the relations and interests of 
 life. In the sweat of a man's face does he take away 
 the curse that causes his face to sweat. Not by ease and 
 idleness and self-indulgence does a man remove the 
 remediable evils of the world ; but by the evils of toil 
 and trouble and care. It is the tear of sympathy that 
 dries the tear of sorrow; the salt of the grief that 
 springs from fellow-feeling that heals the salt spring of 
 the grief that flows from human bereavement. We all 
 know the relief to imprisoned feeling with which the 
 heart is bursting when we can find one whose suscep- 
 tibilities can take it in as we outpour it all, who can 
 understand our emotions and take interest in our dis- 
 closures. There is no earthly solace like that ; and it is 
 only a higher degree of it that we experience when we 
 feel that we have " a brother born for adversity," who is 
 afflicted in all our afflictions. That " Jesus wept," that 
 He still sheds tears as salt and as round as ours when 
 He sees us sorrowing ; this is the blessed homoeopathy 
 of suffering this is the balm, the treacle to every heart- 
 wound. Then, too, why is repentance bitter ? Is it not 
 because sin is bitter ? Those who have experienced it 
 describe the exquisite painfulness with which life and 
 vigour return to a frozen limb or animation to a body 
 that has been nearly drowned, when the remedies used 
 have been successful. The pain of recovery is somewhat 
 like the pain through which sensibility and consciousness 
 
I 4 o THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 in either case were lost. Thus it is in all moral 
 recoveries from sin. The soul yields to temptation with 
 pain, and reluctance, and much self-upbraiding at first ; 
 and it is only a long-continued course of evil that blunts 
 and deadens its sensibilities, so that it is beneath and 
 beyond shame. But when it comes to itself when it 
 realizes, like the prodigal, what it is and what it has lost 
 the revulsion of feeling is great. It revives to the con- 
 sciousness of the higher and truer life from which it has 
 degraded itself, with a keenness of remorse greater even 
 than it experienced when it first fell. The tides of better 
 feeling and heavenlier impulse flow with difficulty and 
 pain through channels long empty, or clogged up with 
 base and sinful tendencies. Conviction and conversion, 
 whether on the lower levels of ordinary moral conduct 
 and worldly well-being, or on the higher heights of 
 spiritual life and . Gospel experience, must always be 
 attended with acute sorrow ; and the measure of the 
 pain in the loss of the soul must be the measure of the 
 pain in its recovery and gain. Look again at love. 
 What does it require ? Is it wealth, or rank, or fame, 
 or any of the outward possessions and glories of life ? 
 The Song of Songs says, and the experience of every 
 true loving heart echoes the sentiment, " If a man would 
 give all the substance of his house for love, it would 
 utterly be contemned." Love can only be satisfied with 
 love. And should not our own experience of this con- 
 vince us that the surpassing, ineffable Love that gave 
 up His own Son lor us, demands from us in return, and 
 can only be satisfied with, a love that will sacrifice self 
 
vi.] TREACLE, OR LIKE CURES LIKE. 141 
 
 for Him ? And finally, does not the principle in question 
 lead us by all these steps to the great universal Throne 
 itself? Does it not clearly indicate that, as God has made 
 us in His own likeness, so we can only be satisfied when 
 we awake with His likeness ? He has made us with a 
 nature so God-like that no creature no gift that He 
 can bestow nothing but God Himself, can fill the crav- 
 ing hollow of our being. The prayer of Philip, " Show 
 us the Father, and it sufficeth us," is the unconscious 
 longing of every soul. No other blessedness can suffice 
 us. This is indeed the sovran treacle of sound doctrine ; 
 the perfect catholicon for all evils ; and blessed are 
 those who know in their experience the reality which 
 it expresses who know the Father in the Son, whom 
 thus to know is life everlasting. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 FEEDING ON ASHES. 
 " He feedeth on ashes." ISAIAH xliv. 20. 
 
 E of the most extraordinary examples of depraved 
 or perverted appetite is the use of earth for food. 
 This propensity is not an occasional freak, but a com- 
 mon custom, and is found among so large a number and 
 variety of tribes, that it may be regarded as coextensive 
 with the human race. From time immemorial, the 
 Chinese have been in the habit of using various kinds of 
 edible earth as substitutes for bread in times of scarcity ; 
 and their imperial annals have always religiously noticed 
 the discovery of such bread-stones, or stone-meal, as they 
 are called. On the western coast of Africa a yellowish 
 kind of earth, called caouac, is so highly relished and so 
 constantly consumed by the negroes, that it has become 
 to them a necessary of life. In the island of Java, and 
 in various parts of the hill-country of India, a reddish 
 earth is baked into cakes and sold in the village markets 
 for food ; while on the banks of the Orinoco, in South 
 America, Humboldt mentions that the native Indians 
 find a species of unctuous clay, which they knead into 
 
CHAP, vii.] FEEDING ON ASHES. 143 
 
 balls, and store up in heaps in their huts as a provision 
 for the winter or rainy season. They are not compelled 
 by famine to have recourse to this clay , for even when 
 fish, game, and fruit are plentiful, they still eat it after 
 their food as a luxury. This practice of eating earth is 
 not confined solely to the inhabitants of the Tropics. In 
 the North of Norway and in Swedish Lapland a kind of 
 white powdery earth, called mountain-meal, found under 
 beds of decayed moss, is consumed in immense quantities 
 every year. It is mixed by the people with their bread 
 in times of scarcity ; and even in Germany it has been 
 frequently used as a means of allaying hunger. All these 
 examples of the use of earth as food are so contrary to 
 our experience, that they might seem incredible were it 
 not that they are thoroughly authenticated. Such an 
 unnatural custom must in the long run prove injurious 
 to the constitution of those who indulge in it, although 
 it is wonderful how long it can be carried on by some 
 individuals apparently with impunity. 
 
 I have described this extraordinary habit so fully, be- 
 cause it affords an apt illustration of the inspired words 
 at the head of this chapter. Just as in the natural world 
 there are many whose perverted appetites lead them to 
 the use of earth as food, so in the spiritual world there 
 are many who, in the language of Isaiah, feed upon ashes. 
 The prophet is speaking of the idolater, and exposing the 
 senselessness of idol-worship. The poor devotee takes a 
 piece of durable wood, it may be of his own planting, 
 carves it into a human likeness, or into the resemblance 
 of some material object, and sets it up in a shrine in his 
 
144 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 own house for adoration. With the chips and shavings 
 he makes a fire and cooks his food. He thus practically 
 proves his god to be identical in substance and essence 
 with his fuel. It is his own capricious choice, his own 
 handiwork alone, that determines the difference between 
 the part of the tree which he worships and the part which 
 he burns on his hearth. He satisfies his bodily hunger 
 with the food prepared by the glowing ashes of the idol- 
 wood. He feeds the hunger of his soul with the ashes 
 of his material idolatry. A deceived soul has turned him 
 aside from the knowledge and service of the living and 
 true God, who feeds His worshippers with the finest of the 
 wheat ; and he tries to find in the very same materials 
 with which he cooks his food what will appease the 
 cravings of his spiritual nature. 
 
 " He feedeth on ashes." Three topics for meditation 
 are suggested by these, significant words : ist, Who is 
 the idolater? He feedeth on ashes. 2ndjy, What is his 
 idolatry ? He feedeth on ashes. And, srdly, How does 
 idolatry affect him ? He feedeth on ashes. 
 
 i. In the first place, then, let us ask who is the 
 idolater who is the " he " that is said in the text to 
 feed on ashes? The prophet Isaiah had a definite 
 audience before him. He was prophesying to the 
 children of Israel, whose proneness to idolatry was so 
 remarkable, that they are mentioned in the Bible as the 
 only people who voluntarily forsook their own God, to 
 cleave to the false gods of the nations with whom from 
 time to time they came into contact. Notwithstanding 
 the purity and sublimity of their own monotheistic creed, 
 
vi I.] FEEDING ON ASHES. 145 
 
 and the awful threatenings and sanctions with which it 
 was guarded, we can trace throughout their entire history, 
 as a marked feature of their character, a propensity to 
 blend a theoretical belief in the true God with an accom- 
 modating reverence to the idols of the heathen Pantheon. 
 Except when under the immediate spell of some special 
 revelation of Jehovah, they craved for some visible shape 
 or outward sign of the divinity a craving which was 
 satisfied for a time by the erection of the tabernacle and 
 temple, and the establishment of the worship connected 
 with them, but which soon overleaped barriers thus im- 
 posed upon it, and sought for novel sensations in the 
 tabernacle of Moloch and in the star of the god Rem- 
 phan figures which they made to worship them. The 
 very priests and Levites, who were most concerned in 
 keeping the worship of Jehovah pure, were the leaders of 
 the various national apostasies. The grandson of Moses 
 himself assumed the office of priest to the images of 
 Micah ; and all the solemn feasts, sacrifices, and institu- 
 tions of the Mosaic ritual were copied in detail by Jero- 
 boam, and applied to the worship of the golden calves 
 which he had erected at Bethel and Dan. Under the 
 patronage of royalty, idolatrous priests from time to time 
 multiplied in the land, and increased in wealth and in- 
 fluence. Images were set up in the threshing-floors, in 
 the wine-vats, and behind the doors of private houses ; 
 and intermarriages with the surrounding nations were, in 
 every case, the first steps to the worship of their gods. 
 Isaiah deeply deplored this national fickleness and 
 spiritual inconstancy. In the passage under considera- 
 
146 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 tion he does not expose, as elsewhere, the heinousness 
 of idolatry as a political crime of the gravest kind against 
 Jehovah as the civil head of the State, or as the greatest 
 of social wrongs against Him with whom they had 
 entered into the marriage-bond. Instead of launching 
 the fiercest invectives of his wrath against it, he seeks to 
 overwhelm it with contempt. He shows in remarkably 
 searching language the degrading nature of the practice, 
 and its contrariety alike to right reason and true piety. 
 
 Were Isaiah addressing us in these days, his ideas 
 would be the same, though the form in which he would 
 present them would be different. Material idolatry, in 
 its literal import, has passed away among civilized 
 nations. The old worship of stocks and stones is now 
 impossible among a professedly Christian people. The 
 second commandment, so far as it refers to the worship 
 of graven or molten images, is unnecessary. But although 
 the outward mode has passed away, the essence of the 
 temptation remains the same. Human society is changed, 
 but human nature is unchanged. The impulse which led 
 to idolatry is therefore as strong at the present day as it 
 was in the time of Isaiah ; and images are set up and 
 worshipped now as fantastic as any pagan fetish or joss. 
 The tender and solemn admonition of the Apostle John 
 is as needful as ever : " Little children, keep yourselves 
 from idols." The New Testament form of the second 
 commandment, "Be not conformed to this world," re- 
 quires to be frequently and urgently enforced. Idolatry 
 in its essence is the lowering of the idea of God and of 
 God's nature, and the exaltation of a dead image above 
 
vii.] FEEDING ON ASHES. 14? 
 
 a man's own living spirit; and an idol is whatever is 
 loved more than God, whatever is depended upon for 
 happiness and help independent of God. And just as 
 there were different kinds of material idolaters of old, so 
 there are now different kinds of spiritual idolaters. There 
 were worshippers of Baal and Astarte, the gods of sen- 
 sualism ; and these are now represented by the multitudes 
 who are lovers of pleasure more than lovers of God who 
 seek enjoyment in what is distinctively called pleasure, 
 the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of 
 life. There were worshippers of the golden calf; and 
 these are now represented by those who love riches, who 
 admire only worldly success in others, and exalt them- 
 selves on account of it ; who embark their whole soul in 
 their business, and make it their one chief solicitude. 
 There were nobler worshippers of the sun, moon, and 
 stars ; and these are now represented by the lovers of 
 knowledge, by the devotees of literature and science, 
 who make Nature their deity, and this globe the temple 
 in which they adore her. But if I were to sum up all 
 spiritual idolatry in these days in one form, I should call 
 it worldliness^ for everything else is but a phase of this. 
 Some modern idolaters exhibit one phase of worldliness, 
 some another, but all have it more or less ; and even the 
 children of light too frequently and fervently unite in the 
 worship, and require the reproof : " Love not the world, 
 nor the things that are in the world." In short, the man 
 to whom the words of the prophet are applicable nowa- 
 days, is the man who moulds his life and character, his 
 spirit and conscience, not by the high ideals of God and 
 L 2 
 
148 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 heaven, but by the objects and pursuits of the world, by 
 things that are lower than his own nature. And this 
 worldly conformity leads speedily, in most instances, to 
 a low moral standard, and to a weak and corrupt form of 
 religion, and produces the same humiliating results which 
 flowed from the idolatry of ancient times. Even as they 
 do not like to retain God in their knowledge, God gives 
 them over to a reprobate mind to do those things which 
 are not convenient. 
 
 2. But I pass on to consider, in the second place, what 
 is idolatry. "13.Z feedeth on ashes." Adopting the analogy 
 of the sacred writer, I should say it is a perverted spiritual 
 appetite. In certain diseased states of the brain there 
 is an unnatural craving for the most extraordinary and 
 unwholesome substances. Men and women under such 
 morbid influences have been known to eat cinders and 
 sand with apparent relish, and even to prefer them to the 
 richest dainties. In such cases it is not the appetite that 
 is at fault. That is sound and good. The digestive organs 
 exercise their functions naturally and healthfully. But 
 the controlling power of the brain which chooses the 
 proper food is impaired, and this healthy appetite is set 
 to work upon substances which are altogether unsuitable. 
 In like manner, idolatry arises from a natural craving of 
 the soul, which was made for God, for His worship and 
 enjoyment. It was formed to know, and love, and serve 
 a Being higher than itself. It finds that it must go out of 
 itself and beyond itself for the blessedness that it needs. 
 Not more eagerly does the plant, imprisoned in the dark 
 cellar, turn its blossom to the ray of solar light that reaches 
 
FEEDING ON ASHES. 149 
 
 it through a crevice in the wall, than do the thousand ten- 
 drils of our spiritual nature stretch themselves out towards 
 a Being higher, holier, and more enduring than ourselves. 
 There is a thirst in us that dries up all earthly things, and 
 a hunger that craves for fuller joys. Now, this spiritual 
 appetite is a God-given instinct of our nature. It is the 
 soul seeking its highest good. It is healthy and natural. 
 But when, under the guidance and power of a deceived 
 heart, it seeks its gratification in earthly things to the 
 exclusion altogether of God, it affords a most melancholy 
 example of a perverted spiritual appetite. The longing 
 that makes us worship idols, whether it be molten or 
 graven images, or the more worthy and dignified idols 
 of the heart the home, the world, the sanctuary, our 
 friends, our possessions, ourselves is in itself a right, and 
 healthy, and natural instinct ; the sin of idolatry consists 
 in the perversion of this longing, in the worshipping of 
 the creature instead of, or more than, the Creator. 
 Originally the spiritual appetite was under an enlight- 
 ened moral control, by which'it sought its gratification in 
 adequate and proper means. Man sought God in every- 
 thing, and everything in God. But when he sinned and 
 fell, while retaining the desire after God and the capacity 
 of enjoying Him, he lost the right direction of the desire. 
 His spiritual appetite became depraved and vitiated ; his 
 fine moral instinct became blunted, so that the happiness 
 he used to find in the infinite excellence and uncreated 
 all- sufficiency of God, he now sought vainly in the 
 vanities and pleasures of sense. He turned away from 
 the rich and nourishing provision of his Father's house 
 
150 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 to feed as a prodigal upon the husks which the swine 
 do eat. 
 
 What is drunkenness? Traced to its source and 
 motive, we find that this degrading vice originates in an 
 unconscious craving of the soul after God. It is a per- 
 verted spiritual appetite, a feeding on ashes instead of 
 bread. Why does a man get intoxicated? Is it not 
 because he is dissatisfied with the mean life of world- 
 liness and carnality which he leads, and pants after a 
 higher life and a freer atmosphere ? It is only by 
 drinking the poisonous cup, he thinks, that he can escape 
 from the miseries of his position, from the cares and sor- 
 rows that dwarf his soul and wear down his nature to 
 their own low level, and live for a brief interval in an 
 ideal world. This is the motive, at least at first, although 
 afterwards the vice becomes a mere habit, and is indulged 
 in for its own sake. Drunkenness is a perverted spiritual 
 appetite, a seeking in the creature what God alone can 
 give, the longing of the soul for higher and purer happi- 
 ness than the hard round of daily life and the weary 
 sorrowful circle of the world can give. So, too, covetous- 
 ness, if analysed in the same way, will be found to 
 be a perverted spiritual appetite, a misdirected worship. 
 Covetousness is identified in Scripture with idolatry : 
 " Covetousness which is idolatry," says St. Paul. " No 
 covetous man, who is an idolater, hath an inheritance 
 in the kingdom of God." The love of money, as it has 
 been well said, is the love of God run wild, the diseased 
 action of a spiritual appetite, the aberration of a nature 
 that was made for God, and is still unconsciously seeking 
 
vn.] FEEDING ON ASHES. \ 5 1 
 
 after Him. Mammon-worship is the semblance or coun- 
 terfeit of God- worship. Wealth is the mystic shadow 
 of God, which the soul is unconsciously groping after 
 and craving for. It presents some faint features of 
 resemblance to Him. It seems omnipotent, able to do 
 all things; omnipresent, showing signs of itself every- 
 where ; beneficent, supplying our present wants, 
 providing for our future, procuring for us an endless 
 variety of blessings, and giving us almost all that our 
 hearts can desire. And because it presents these super- 
 ficial resemblances to God, because it thus mimics His 
 infinitude, it becomes a religion to many, a worship 
 loud in praise and aspiration as any that ever filled a 
 church. The blindness of such devotion is equal to 
 its fervour. Even when most abject in his worship, 
 the idolater of wealth will tell you in excuse that the 
 throned deity which claims the homage of his knee " the 
 likeness of a kingly crown has on." And so is it with 
 every form of idolatry of which man in these enlight- 
 ened days can be guilty. It is the soul, in its restless 
 pursuit of happiness, mistaking the true object of which 
 it is in quest. It is the soul, with its healthy God-given 
 appetite, feeding upon ashes instead of upon bread, 
 seeking its food in created things instead of in the 
 Creator. God made man upright, with a healthy spi- 
 ritual appetite that sought its portion and fruition in Him 
 only. But, deceived by sin, man sought out many 
 inventions, prepared many idols, invented many plea- 
 sures which should be to him substitutes for God, which 
 should appease his deep longings for God. And thus 
 
1 5 2 THE MINISTR Y OF NA TURE. [CHAP. 
 
 the very wants and miseries, the very woes and vices of 
 man, proclaim the greatness of his nature indicate that 
 he is too mighty a being for this perishable world. 
 
 3. But let us see, in the third place, what are the 
 effects of idolatry. How does idolatry affect the man 
 guilty of it ? There is a very striking and beautiful rela- 
 tion, as it has been well said, between the food of man and 
 his digestive organs. He is omnivorous. He is the ruler 
 of the world, and therefore the varied life of the world 
 must throb in his veins. Nature spreads a table for him, 
 richly furnished with everything that can please the eye, 
 regale the nostril, and satisfy the palate ; opens her 
 bounteous hand, and pours out for him the treasures of 
 every land and every sea, because she would give him a 
 wide and vigorous life co-extensive with the variety of 
 nature. But all the varied food which she presents to 
 him must be organic food. It must be prepared for him 
 by previous vegetable or animal life. It must not come 
 from the earth directly ; it must be organized by passing 
 through the tissues, and becoming endowed with new 
 properties in the structures of plants and animals. It is 
 true, indeed, that the human body requires for its proper 
 nourishment inorganic as well as organic elements. 
 Formed from the dust, it does not even in its most 
 sublimated processes utterly forsake the ground. " Phos- 
 phorus literally flames in the brain that thoughts may 
 breathe and words may burn ; lime gives solidity to the 
 bones ; the alkaline salts promote the oxidation and re- 
 moval of the effete materials of the body. Common 
 minerals iron, sulphur, soda, potash, and others circu- 
 
VTT.] FEEDING ON ASHES. 153 
 
 late in the blood, or are garnered in the various tissues. 
 But all these inorganic materials are furnished, not from 
 the earth directly, but in the food ; the various vegetable 
 and animal products containing them in varying quan- 
 tities." Such being the law of man's nutrition, it will be 
 seen at once that if he feeds directly upon ashes, he is 
 feeding upon substances that are altogether incongruous, 
 and unfitted to nourish him. The plant can feed upon 
 ashes the worm can feed upon earth but man's life is 
 higher and more complex, and therefore he requires a 
 more complex food. His organs cannot digest or assimi- 
 late ashes. They remain unchanged in his stomach, to 
 impair its powers, and to cause it torture and distress. 
 If a healthy stomach be made to digest a mineral sub- 
 stance, it acts in the same manner as it would do in the 
 case of bread, it exercises all its functions, and secretes 
 all its juices as naturally as if the foreign substance were 
 its appropriate diet, but its action is only a throe of 
 distress. And is not the analogy between spiritual and 
 natural things here very clear ? If man's spiritual appetite 
 can feed only on God if God alone is the satisfying por- 
 tion of the soul then if that appetite is set to work upon 
 the ashes of idolatry if man seeks his portion only in 
 the things of the world, what can you expect but spi- 
 ritual indigestion and misery? And the healthier the 
 spiritual appetite, the more pain will be inflicted by this 
 perversion of it. It is true, indeed, that just as the 
 body requires inorganic elements salt, lime, and iron 
 as well as organic, for its proper nourishment, so man 
 requires the things of the world as well as the things of 
 
154 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 faith for his spiritual welfare. Our heavenly Father 
 knoweth that we have need of these earthly things 
 even for our growth in grace. A soul nourished exclu- 
 sively upon spiritual things, would be as weak and worth- 
 less as a body nourished exclusively upon organized 
 materials, upon chemically prepared food. But then we 
 are to seek these temporal things earthly enjoyments 
 and pursuits not directly from the world, but through 
 the channel of communion with God, and living in Him, 
 just as the body gets its needful supply of earthy 
 materials, not directly from the earth, but through the 
 medium of the plants and animals upon which it feeds. 
 We are to seek first the kingdom of God and His righte- 
 ousness, and all these things shall be added thereto. 
 
 There are natures that, by a long course of feeding 
 upon ashes, have become accustomed to this unnatural 
 diet Like the clay-eaters of South America, their 
 digestive organs become assimilated to their food, and 
 they are put to little inconvenience by it. We meet 
 with persons who are satisfied with their portion in this 
 world, who mind earthly things, and are contented with 
 the nourishment for their souls which they find in them. 
 But are such persons the truly great and noble ones of 
 our race ? Do we admire or love them ? Do we not 
 regard their contentment as a curse, as the proofs of a 
 low moral nature ? Is not, as one has said, the instinc- 
 tive feeling strong within us, that to be thus satisfied 
 wanting nothing, craving nothing but what can be found 
 in the pursuits and enjoyments of earth is inhuman ; 
 that those whose horizon is thus all earth-bound are not 
 
VIL] FEEDING ON ASHES. 155 
 
 above but below the level of humanity. But whatever 
 may be the case with such individuals, the great mass 
 of idolaters the great mass of those who are seeking 
 their happiness in created good are wretched because 
 they are feeding on ashes. They are trying to find 
 satisfaction for the longing of their souls for God in 
 things that are unfitted by their very nature to yield that 
 satisfaction. Their longing for God is a healthy appe- 
 tite ; and therefore the more misery and pain does it 
 inflict when it is set to work to digest the crude earthy 
 substances of the world. This is the true secret of the 
 unhappiness of the great majority of mankind. They 
 are without God, and, therefore, necessarily without hope 
 in the world. They are suffering from spiritual indi- 
 gestion. Their souls are crying for bread, and they get 
 a stone ; and in endeavouring to assimilate the hetero- 
 geneous substance, to find strength and satisfaction in 
 it, they are undergoing agonies of disappointment and 
 sorrow. " The ease of the simple shall slay them, and 
 the prosperity of fools shall destroy them." 
 
 The debaucheries of lust and drunkenness and gluttony 
 to which so many flee to gratify the hunger of their souls 
 separated from God } in whom alone they can live and 
 move and have their being, are ashes that fill them only 
 to torture them ; that allay for a moment the pangs of 
 hunger only to inflict pangs of disease a thousand times 
 worse. The cares and toils ; the constant changing of 
 plans and places ; the pursuit of wealth, honour, society, 
 fame, knowledge, fashion ; these are all proofs of spi- 
 ritual dyspepsia, of the uneasiness which the soul feels in 
 
156 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 the digestion of food never intended for it, and therefore 
 utterly unsuited to its nature and wants. The perpetual 
 irritations ; the fits of anger, envy, jealousy, and re- 
 morse ; the gloomy, hypochondriacal fears ; the weary 
 carking anxieties ; the vanity and vexation of spirit 
 which disturb and distract the lives of multitudes, are 
 owing to the presence in their souls of foreign bodies 
 which they can neither assimilate nor reject. They call 
 the world ashes ; they wonder at the meanness and 
 destitution of life ; they fret and fume at the dispen- 
 sations of Providence. But renewed pursuit ever suc- 
 ceeds deplored deception ; and the wretched experiment 
 is again and again repeated with increased results of 
 bitterness and woe. However well they get on in the 
 world, and amass fame and wealth and honour, they are 
 never pleased. Even amid the surfeits of earth's richest 
 feasts of joy, they are wringing their hands and crying 
 out, "Who will show us any good?" They spend their 
 lives in the pursuit of this and that outward good, 
 impelled by the insatiable longings of a deceived heart ; 
 "confessing all the time that they fail even when in 
 form they succeed, and showing by their symptoms of 
 disappointment and dissatisfaction that their objects, 
 whether gained or lost, have no relation to their wants." 
 They spend money for that which is not bread, and 
 labour for that which satisfieth not. Feeding on ashes 
 only, what can we expect but to see them miserable and 
 starving? How can a spiritual appetite be satisfied by 
 a material regimen? How can an infinite hunger be 
 appeased by a finite good? The soul wants organized 
 
vii.] FEEDING ON ASHES. 157 
 
 food ; food that has spiritual life in it ; food that is 
 redolent of the sunshine and permeated with the light 
 of heaven; food that has drunk in all the impalpable 
 virtues and forces of the things unseen and eternal; 
 food that can gather up in itself these vitalizing influ- 
 ences, and transfer them to us to glow within our veins 
 and animate our nerves ; and, instead of that, we get 
 ashes out of which all the glow and the virtue have 
 departed. Sooner or later, as Moses pounded the 
 golden calf and gave the Israelites the dust to drink 
 in punishment of their idolatry, will every worshipper 
 of false gods have to drink the dust of his idols. 
 Our sin will become our punishment ; our idols our 
 scourges. God is a jealous God; and every soul that 
 turneth aside from His love to the lying vanities of the 
 world, must drink the bitter water of jealousy, filled 
 with the dust that is on the floor of the tabernacle the 
 dust of the bruised and mutilated Dagons of spiritual 
 idolatry that have fallen before the ark cf Jehovah ; and 
 it shall enter into him, and his belly shall swell and 
 his thigh shall rot, and he shall be a curse among the 
 people. " Behold, all ye that kindle a fire, that compass 
 yourselves about with sparks, walk in the light of your 
 fire, and in the sparks that ye have kindled. This shall 
 ye have at my hand : ye shall lie down in sorrow." 
 
 I have remarked that there are some who are satisfied 
 with their worldly portion who, though feeding upon 
 clay, are not put to inconvenience by it. Such indi- 
 viduals, in the midst of their contentment, are in reality, 
 if they only knew it, more to be pitied than those whose 
 
158 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 truer instincts are tortured by me unsuitable food by 
 which they endeavour to appease their spiritual cravings. 
 Oh, it is infinitely better not to have found satisfaction at 
 all to be as miserable as the world can make us than 
 to be feeding upon ashes contentedly ! For we may rest 
 assured that such food is doing harm to our spiritual con- 
 stitution, making us more and more like what we eat of 
 the earth earthy and all the more surely that it excites 
 no symptoms of pain, and seems to agree with our nature. 
 The peasant women of Styria are in the habit of con- 
 stantly eating a certain quantity of arsenic, in order to 
 enhance their personal charms. It imparts a beautiful 
 bloom to the complexion, and gives a full and rounded 
 appearance to the face and body. For years they per- 
 severe in this dangerous practice ; but if they intermit 
 it for a single day, they experience all the symptoms of 
 arsenical poisoning. The complexion fades, the features 
 become worn and haggard, and the body loses its plump- 
 ness and becomes angular and emaciated. Having once 
 begun, therefore, to use this cosmetic, they must in self- 
 defence go on, constantly increasing the dose in order 
 to keep up the effect. At last the constitution is under- 
 mined ; the evil effects cannot be warded off any longer ; 
 the limit of safety is overpassed ; and the victim of foolish 
 vanity perishes miserably in the very prime of life. And 
 is it not so with those who feed upon the poison of the 
 world's idolatries ? They may seem to thrive upon this 
 insidious and dangerous diet. They may look as bloom- 
 ing upon it as Daniel upon his pulse, but all the time 
 it is permanently impairing their spiritual health, and 
 
vi r.] FEEDING ON ASHES. 159 
 
 rendering them unfit for spiritual communion. The 
 more they indulge in it, the more they must surrender 
 themselves to it ; and the jaded appetite is stimulated on 
 to greater excesses, until at last every lingering vestige of 
 spiritual vitality is destroyed, and the soul becomes a 
 loathsome moral wreck, poisoned by its own food. 
 
 There is such a thing as a wasting of the body from 
 insufficient nutrition, even when the appetite is satisfied 
 and the stomach content A strange plant called the 
 nardoo, with clover-like leaves, closely allied to the fern 
 tribe, grows in the deserts of Central Australia. A 
 melancholy interest is connected with it, owing to the 
 fact that its seeds formed for several months almost the 
 sole food of the party of explorers who a few years ago 
 crossed the continent. This nardoo satisfied their hunger ; 
 it produced a pleasant feeling of comfort and repletion. 
 The natives were accustomed to eat it in the absence of 
 their usual roots and fruits, not only without injury, but 
 apparently with positive benefit to their health. And yet, 
 day after day, Burke and Wills became weaker and more 
 emaciated upon this diet. Their flesh wasted from their 
 bones, their strength was reduced to an infant's feeble- 
 ness, and they could only crawl painfully a mile or two in 
 a day. At last, when nearing the bourne of their hopes, 
 the explorers perished one by one of starvation ; a soli- 
 tary survivor being found in the last extremity under a 
 tree, where he had laid him down to die, by a party sent 
 out in search of the missing expedition. When analysed, 
 the nardoo bread was ascertained to be destitute of certain 
 nutritious elements indispensable to the support of a 
 
160 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 European, though an Australian savage might for a while 
 find it beneficial as an alterative. And thus it hap- 
 pened that these poor unfortunate Englishmen perished 
 of starvation, even while feeding fully day by day upon 
 food that seemed to satisfy their hunger. Now, is it 
 not precisely so in the experience of those who are seek- 
 ing and finding their portion in earthly things? They 
 are contented with it, and yet their hunger is in reality 
 unappeased. Their desires are crowned, and yet they 
 are actually perishing of want. God gives them their 
 request, but sends leanness to their souls. Oh, is it not 
 for more dreadful to perish by slow degrees of this 
 spiritual atrophy, under the delusive belief that all is 
 well, and therefore seeking no change of food, than 
 to be tortured by the indigestion of feeding on ashes, 
 if by this misery the poor victim can be urged to seek 
 for food convenient for him ! 
 
 " He feedeth on ashes." Is not the very term most 
 significant ? What are ashes ? They are the last solid 
 products of matter that has been used up the relics that 
 remain after all that is useful and nutritious has been con- 
 sumed. You burn a piece of wood or a handful of corn, 
 and its grosser particles fall to the ground, while all its 
 ethereal parts its carbon and hydrogen mount to the 
 skies and disappear. It is a sad thing to gaze upon the 
 ashes of the commonest fire ; for in them there is an 
 image of utter death and ruin of something that has 
 been bright and beautiful, and is now but dull, cold, 
 barren dust. And what are earthly, created things, upon 
 which so many are feeding the hunger of their immortal 
 
vii.] FEEDING ON ASHES. 161 
 
 souls, but ashes ? They were once bright and beautiful. 
 God's blessing was upon them, and they were very good. 
 But sin has consumed all their goodness and beauty, has 
 burned up all in them that was capable of ministering 
 to the spiritual wants of men, and left nothing behind 
 but dust and ashes. We can apply this truth to all the 
 world, so far as it is made the portion of the soul. As- 
 tronomers tell us that the earth was once a sun, its 
 interior still glowing with the primeval heat ; and that 
 the various materials which compose its crust the 
 rocks, the earths, the seas are the ashes of its conflagra- 
 tion the dross that gathered on the surface of its liquid 
 fire. The clays, and sands, and salts of the soil are the 
 ashes of the oxidation or burning of metals. Every dead, 
 inert substance in nature is the cold ash of a former fire ; 
 and the few active substances that have not yet mingled 
 with oxygen, and so become consumed so trivial in com- 
 parison with the total store of which they are the residue 
 constitute our main sources of heat and light and 
 motive power. In short, everything in the world that 
 will not burn, is something that has been already burned. 
 And so in a moral sense, the whole world, which was 
 once capable of ministering to man's spiritual wants, is 
 now a mere heap of cinders. Its beauty has gone with 
 its goodness, and its sufficing power with its holiness. 
 It has become spiritually oxidized by combination with 
 the all-devouring element of sin. The man that loves 
 the world now feeds on ashes ; not upon earth, for there 
 is a degree of nourishment in soil, owing to the remains 
 of, former life, and the worm and the plant feed upon it ; 
 
 M 
 
ib2 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 not upon clay, for the clay which the American Indians 
 eat is found to consist of microscopic plants with silicious 
 envelopes, called Diatoms, containing a small portion of 
 organic matter sufficient to sustain existence ; no ; but 
 on dry, white, dusty ashes, utterly destitute of any nutri- 
 tious element whatever, upon which no creature can 
 live, and upon which almost no plant can grow the 
 refuse of everything that is good salt that has lost its 
 savour, and is therefore good for nothing but to be cast 
 out and to be trodden under foot of man. Oh, could 
 the worthlessness of the world as a portion be more 
 graphically symbolized ! 
 
 Poor worldly-minded man or woman ! it is indeed a 
 deceived heart that has turned you aside ; it is indeed a 
 deceiver that has seduced you to feed on ashes. The god 
 of this world hath blinded you. He brings the power of 
 the world, with all its seductiveness, to bear upon you as 
 an antidote to the Gospel. He so dazzles your eyes 
 with earthly glory, that you are blind to the glory of 
 God which shines in the face of Jesus. The sentence 
 pronounced upon the old serpent who deceived our first 
 parents was, " Dust shalt thou eat all the days of thy 
 life." Whatever may be the literal interpretation of that 
 sentence, it is true in a metaphorical sense that Satan 
 feeds upon dust. All his successes, all his enjoyments, 
 are bitter and unsatisfying, and yield him no true plea- 
 sure. His proudest victories won in the world and in the 
 heart of man are dry as dust, and utterly barren of enjoy- 
 ment. And as he is himself, he wishes to make all who 
 are led captive by him at his will. His own food he 
 
viii.] FEEDING ON ASHES. 163 
 
 gives them to eat, that his own nature may be developed 
 in them. Satan attempted to make even our blessed 
 Lord eat this wretched food. He said to Him, when 
 fasting forty days in the waste wilderness, " Command 
 that these stones be made bread." Defeated by Him 
 who had meat to eat which the world knoweth not of 
 who lived not upon bread alone, but upon every word 
 which cometh out of the mouth of God Satan has from 
 that time gone forth tempting poor hungry souls in the 
 wilderness in the same way. Command that these stones 
 of pleasure, of wealth, of fame, of success, command 
 that these stones be made bread, he says to every poor 
 worldling, to every idolater. And, alas ! how many obey 
 him, and prove themselves to be of their father the devil. 
 And so obeying him, they need not wonder that, when 
 they ask him for bread, he should give them a stone. 
 The pleasures he bestows are apples of Sodom fair to 
 the eye, but in the mouth full of dust and ashes. The 
 honours and riches he confers are jewels of gold and 
 silver and precious stones, very valuable and beautiful, it 
 may be, but which have no relation whatever of nourish- 
 ment to souls perishing for want of the bread of life. 
 
 Let us seek to be convinced of the folly and misery of 
 our idolatry ! Let our spiritual appetite, which has been 
 perverted to indulge itself in earthly vanities, return to its 
 appropriate nourishment. Why should we any longer 
 humble ourselves to so many perishing things that are 
 ashes, and call them bread? "Hearken diligently to 
 me," says our Saviour, " and eat ye that which is good." 
 He communicates the spiritual reality of which the feeding 
 
 M 2 
 
1 64 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP 
 
 of the body with food that perishes is a symbol. From a 
 merciful indulgence to that tendency of our feelings to 
 take their impressions from outward objects, which leads 
 to idolatry, God has become man, assumed our nature, 
 and addressed Himself personally to our affections by re- 
 demptive acts of loving-kindness. And thus incarnate in 
 our nature living, and dying, and rising again for us 
 Jesus is the provision of Zion, the true bread of the soul. 
 He is not only the possessor of the resources of the uni- 
 verse, but He is Himself better than all His gifts. This 
 is the food for which our souls were created, and in which 
 alone they can find righteousness and strength. It is 
 admirably adapted to all the weaknesses and wants, to 
 all the sins and sorrows, of our being. Its all-sufficiency 
 meets our insufficiency at every point, and it never loses 
 its relish. It endureth unto everlasting, life. Feeding 
 upon this food, there will be no pain, no wretchedness, 
 but a peace that passeth all understanding a joy un- 
 speakable and full of glory a life growing fuller, and 
 richer, and stronger, unto the stature of a perfect man in 
 Christ. And thus living, and moving, and having our 
 being in our Saviour, we shall enjoy the world so far 
 as it is fitted to minister enjoyment in a way that no 
 idolater of it can ever know. It is only when the earth 
 becomes organized, by a living agency that it can nourish 
 the body. It is only in the tissues of the plant in the 
 ear of corn, in the form of bread that the earth can feed 
 us. And so it is only in and through Christ, who only 
 hath life, that we can truly enjoy the world that all 
 things become ours, ministering to our faith and to our 
 
vii.] FEEDING ON ASHES. 165 
 
 growth in grace. If we go to the world first and fore- 
 most, if we seek our happiness in it directly, we must 
 necessarily feed on ashes. We are like the man who 
 seeks his food in the mineral contents of the earth in 
 its clays and sands instead of in the corn that groweth 
 out of the earth. But if we feed upon Christ, in the all- 
 fulness that dwelleth in Him bodily, we have stored up, 
 and concentrated, and organized for us all that our souls 
 need. The world, when sanctified and transformed by 
 Him, will become a teacher of heavenly wisdom, instead 
 of a deceiver a rich and ever-varying banquet, instead 
 of a heap of ashes ; and all things will work together for 
 our good. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 SPIRITUAL CATHARISM. 
 
 " Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord ? or who shall stand in 
 His holy place ? He that hath clean hands and a pure heart. " 
 PSALM xxiv. 3, 4. 
 
 ' I "HIS new term, derived from a Greek word signify- 
 ing purity, has been invented by Mr. Tomlinson 
 to distinguish between ordinary and chemical cleanli- 
 ness ; for the two things are not by any means the same. 
 We imagine that our bodies, when we have thoroughly 
 washed them, are perfectly free from all impurity ; but 
 the chemist proves to us by convincing experiments, that 
 though we wash ourselves with snow-water, and make our 
 hands never so clean yea, though we wash ourselves with 
 nitre, and take us much soap we are still unclean. We 
 cannot be made chemically clean by any process which 
 would not injure or destroy us. The slightest exposure to 
 the air the great receptacle of all impurities covers our 
 skin with a greasy organic film, which pollutes every sub- 
 stance with which we come into contact. It is well known 
 that the process of crystallization in chemical solutions is 
 set going by the presence of some impurity, in the shape 
 of motes or dust-particles, which act as nuclei around 
 which the salts gather into crystals. But if the solution 
 
CHAP, vin.] SPIRITUAL CATHARISM. 167 
 
 be protected from all floating impurities by a covering of 
 cotton-wool, which niters the air, it may be kept for any 
 length of time, at a low temperature, without crystallizing. 
 A glass rod that is made chemically clean by being 
 washed with strong acids or alkalies, such as sulphuric 
 acid or caustic potash, can be put into the solution with- 
 out exciting any change in it ; but the smallest touch of 
 what the most fastidious would call clean fingers, starts 
 at once the process of crystallization : thus showing that 
 the fingers are not truly clean. 
 
 Nature is exceedingly dainty in her operations. Unless 
 the agents we employ are stainlessly pure, they will not 
 produce the results which we naturally expect from them. 
 Thus, for instance, if we scrape a few fragments from a 
 fresh surface of camphor, and allow them to fall on water 
 that is newly drawn from the cistern-tap, into a chemically 
 clean vessel, they will revolve with great rapidity, and 
 sweep over the surface. But if the vessel, before being 
 filled, has been rubbed and polished with a so-called 
 clean cloth, or if the water has stood awhile, or if a finger 
 has been placed in it, the particles of camphor will lie per- 
 fectly motionless; thus proving that, however clean the 
 cloth, or the vessel, or the finger may seem, an impurity 
 has been imparted which prevents the camphor from 
 exhibiting its strange movements. Or to adopt a more 
 familiar experiment : if we pour a quantity of lemonade, 
 or any other aerated fluid, into a glass which seems to be 
 perfectly clean and bright, the lemonade will at once 
 erfervesjce and form bubbles of gas on the sides of the 
 glass. But if we first wash the glass with some strong acid 
 
168 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 or alkali, and then rinse it thoroughly with fresh water 
 newly drawn, we may pour the lemonade into it, and no 
 bubbles will be seen. The reason of this difference is, that 
 in the former case the glass which appears to us to be 
 clean is in reality impure with the products of respiration 
 or combustion, or the motes and dust of the air, which 
 act as nuclei in liberating gas ; whereas in the latter case 
 the glass is absolutely clean, and therefore no longer 
 possesses the power of liberating the gas from the liquid. 
 The cork or the spoon with which we excite renewed effer- 
 vescence in an aerated liquid that has become still, pro- 
 duces this effect not by its motion, as we should suppose, 
 but by its uncleanness. Were it possible to free it from 
 all impurity, we might stir the liquid a whole day without 
 raising a single sparkle. 
 
 From these examples we see the importance of a 
 chemically clean surface in the performance of many 
 experiments, and the influence of the slightest speck of 
 dust in modifying their results. They reveal to us the 
 universal presence of impurity in apparently the cleanest 
 vessels from which we eat and drink in the snowiest 
 table-linen that we use in our hands, however scru- 
 pulously washed in short, in ourselves and in all our 
 surroundings, however careful we may be. Our utmost 
 purity is a mere relative or comparative thing. We may 
 be cleaner than others ; but the highest standard of 
 physical cleanliness we can reach comes far short of the 
 absolute chemical standard. So is it likewise in the 
 spiritual world. Our idea of purity and God's idea are 
 two very different things. Comparing ourselves with 
 
viii.] SPIRITUAL CATHARISM 169 
 
 ourselves or with others, we have no sense of contrast. 
 We may appear to have clean hands and pure hearts, 
 but in the eyes of Him in whose sight the immaculate 
 heavens are not clean, and who chargeth the sinless 
 angels with folly, we are altogether vile and polluted. In 
 the mirror of God's absolute holiness, the purest of 
 earthly characters sees a dark and defiled reflection. 
 The prophet Isaiah, whom God commissioned, on 
 account of his sterling integrity, to be the bearer of his 
 message to Israel, was constrained by the vision of God's 
 glory in the temple to cry out, " Woe is me, for I am 
 undone, because I am a man of unclean lips, and I 
 dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips ; for mine 
 eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts." The much 
 tried patriarch of Uz, of whom the Lord Himself testified 
 to Satan, the accuser of the brethren, " Hast thou con- 
 sidered my servant Job, that there is none like him in 
 the earth, a perfect and an upright man, one that feareth 
 God, and escheweth evil," was, nevertheless, constrained 
 to say, as the effect of a clearer manifestation of God's 
 infinite purity upon his mind : " I have heard of thee by 
 the hearing of the ear ; but now mine eye seeth thee. 
 Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes." 
 Immeasurably greater than the difference between che- 
 mical cleanliness and ordinary cleanliness, is the differ- 
 ence between God's purity and man's purity. The 
 physical fact is but the faint image of the moral ; and 
 chemistry, in showing to us the wonderful purity of 
 nature's operations, gives a new meaning and a deeper 
 emphasis to the declaration of Scripture, that nature's 
 
1 70 THE MINISTR Y OF NA TURE. [CHAP 
 
 God is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity. He 
 cannot look upon sin. 
 
 There is no such aversion as this in the elements of 
 nature; there is no such repulsion in all physical law. 
 No illustrations from material things can give an adequate 
 conception of the attitude of the Infinite mind towards 
 moral evil. To all men God's infinite purity is the tritest 
 and most commonplace of truths, the most elementary 
 and obvious of first principles ; and yet the ideas which 
 different men, or even the same men in different moral 
 states, have of it, vary immensely. To one it may be but 
 a mere abstract logical proposition, exciting no emotion 
 in the soul, and producing no effect upon the life ; a mere 
 algebraic symbol, representing some unknown quantity ; 
 a mere scientific truth, like the chemist's talk of cleanli- 
 ness. To another it is the most intense of all experiences, 
 stirring up the deepest emotions and transforming the 
 whole nature. The same man, as was seen in the case 
 of Job and Isaiah, may have at one time a feeling of 
 complacency regarding the holiness of God ; while at 
 another time the same logical truth, with the same logical 
 significance, intensified by the strength and life of spiritual 
 emotion, overpowers him with awe and dread. Chemical 
 cleanliness is a scientific truth, which, when once com- 
 prehended, is the same for all minds at all times ; but 
 the moral truth of God's infinite purity has a widely dif- 
 ferent meaning for different souls, or for the same soul 
 at different times. Or if there be a state in which this 
 great moral truth becomes like a scientific fact or formula, 
 the same for all minds at all times, it can only be at the 
 
viii.] SPIRITUAL CATHARISM. 171 
 
 zero of spiritual life when the fool says in his heart, "There 
 is no God, and there is none that doeth good, no not one." 
 Impurity in natural things is caused by waste, disin- 
 tegration, or combustion. When objects have served 
 their purpose in one form, they become effete, and 
 therefore impure. Running water is living water, and 
 therefore is sweet and pure ; but whenever it becomes 
 stagnant it loses its life, begins to putrefy, and becomes 
 foul and unwholesome. A rock is called a live rock so 
 long as it is hard and sound in the quarry, " glistens like 
 the sea-waves, and rings under the hammer like a 
 brazen bell : " but whenever it is cut out of the quarry 
 and exposed to the air, it begins to lose the life that 
 kept its particles together, and crumbles into dust. In 
 its native bed the rock is pure, but when it is weathered 
 by exposure it forms the mud ot the highway, or the 
 dust that pollutes everything by its presence. The clay 
 and soil of our fields are caused by the oxidation or 
 burning of pure metals ; are, in fact, the ashes of metals. 
 The dirt that cleaves to our footsteps, as the emblem of 
 all impurity, is produced by the disintegration of the 
 brightest metals or the most sparkling jewels. We say 
 of a tree that it is living when it is growing and putting 
 forth foliage and fruit, and in this state it is pure and 
 beautiful; but whenever it ceases to grow it dies, and 
 decay begins, and it harbours all sorts of abominable 
 things, the products of corruption. Everywhere through- 
 out nature, impurity is caused by objects ceasing to 
 preserve the natural life that is in them; ceasing to 
 serve the purpose for which they were created. And so 
 
172 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 is it with man. Impurity in him is caused by the loss 
 of spiritual life, by departing from the uprightness in 
 which he was created, and seeking out inventions of his 
 own. He has broken the order and law of his existence, 
 and his whole nature has disintegrated in an atmosphere 
 of sin. Passion has broken loose from the law of co- 
 hesion to God ; the will no longer responds to the 
 gravitation of conscience and reason ; the whole being 
 has become vitiated, disordered, and corrupt. And just 
 as mud is the foul product of the purest crystal when it 
 is broken down from the constitutive order and original 
 law of its creation, so all impurity in man's thought and 
 word and deed is the vile product the rust as it were 
 of a nature made in the image of God, through its 
 corruption that is, as the word implies the breaking 
 up together of it by sin ; through its losing of that life 
 of unity, simplicity, and order which results from abiding 
 in God. Man's nature has become a chaos, an irregular, 
 confused mixture of motives, feelings, and ends. With 
 his singleness of eye he lost his clearness of spiritual 
 vision. With his simplicity of aim and unity of object 
 he lost his purity and transparency of character. Sepa- 
 rating from God, the Rock of his salvation, he suffered 
 spiritual decay in all his parts, and sank into the fearful 
 pit and the miry clay. Ceasing to abide and grow in the 
 Tree of Life, he has been cast forth as a branch and s 
 withered, the prey of vile lusts and morbid vanities. 
 
 This description applies to every human being. Man's 
 pride may refuse the imputation, and he may think that 
 his experience refutes it. But the continuous testimony 
 
viii.] SPIRITUAL CATHARISM. 173 
 
 of the unerring Word of God, to which the witness of 
 every true church has been added, is that " we are all as 
 an unclean thing, and all our righteousnesses are as filthy 
 rags." Every Christian whose eyes have been opened to 
 see the extent of his own corruption, who has seen his 
 own character in the light of God's law, and in contrast 
 with God's nature, feels the truth of the human portraiture 
 drawn by the Divine pencil : " Every one is gone back ; 
 they are all together become filthy ; there is none that 
 doeth good, no, not one;" and though his nature is 
 changed by grace, he can never forget his own assimi- 
 lation to the corrupted mass of nature, or deny the 
 application to him of the apostle's words : " You hath 
 he quickened who were dead in trespasses and sins, and 
 were by nature the children of wrath, even as others." 
 There is indeed such a thing as natural goodness and 
 virtue in the unregenerated heart. Benevolence, filial 
 and parental affection, pity, gratitude, generosity of dis- 
 position, the love of justice, in themselves morally good, 
 are still parts of the nature which God has communicated 
 to mankind. Man's nature in its wildest aberration is 
 not without traces of its divine original, or fragments of 
 beauty and magnificence. All human beings are not 
 alike. Many feel incapable of the vices which they see 
 committed around them. Comparing the honourable 
 and generous character of some men with the sordid 
 viciousness of others, we cannot but feel that the world 
 has its good and its bad men, its pure and impure. But 
 such moral purity as we see in some individuals, causing 
 them to thank God in their hearts that they are not as 
 
1 74 THE MINISTR Y OF NA TURE. [ CH A p. 
 
 other men, is like ordinary cleanliness as compared with 
 chemical cleanliness. We think our hands, or a glass of 
 water, or a table-cloth clean ; they certainly seem to be 
 pure and spotless ; our senses can detect no defilement 
 in them ; and for the common purposes of life they may 
 be sufficiently clean. But when we submit them to the 
 test of chemical experiment, we find out the hidden im- 
 purities, and understand how widely different our notions 
 of cleanliness are from the absolute truth. And so, we 
 have a warmth of indignation against injustice and op- 
 pression, and we think this is a hatred of sin ; we feel a 
 thrill and a glow of generous admiration when we see a 
 noble character or hear of a noble deed, and we mistake 
 this for an innate love of holiness. But when the Spirit 
 convinces us of sin, and makes upon us the great expe- 
 riment of grace which opens the eyes and the heart 
 together, we see the evil roots from which the seemingly 
 fair fruits -proceed; we know that these virtues flow from 
 a principle of earthliness, self-interest, and expediency, 
 and not from love of God or love of holiness. Our 
 depravity is shown to us as convincingly by the goodness 
 praised by all men, which disowns God and bears fruit for 
 other objects than His glory, as by the vices which all 
 men hate and repudiate. There may be much to love 
 and admire in us ; as natural men we may do right, act 
 honestly, and feel properly, just as in mud formed by the 
 disintegration of a micaceous rock, we see the mica scales 
 still sparkling pure and bright in the sunlight amid the 
 surrounding defilement. But as we call the mud impure, 
 even though it contain these remains of former purity, 
 
VIIL] SPIRITUAL CATHARISM. 175 
 
 because it has broken away from its living cohesion and 
 unity in the rock, and become mixed up with all sorts of 
 substances ; so we call a natural man corrupt and impure, 
 although he may have many excellences of character and 
 conduct, because he has departed from the life and unity 
 of his being in God, and has become a law unto himself, 
 falling into mixtures of causes in all his actions. His 
 excellences do not form part of a living uniform prin- 
 ciple of conduct, a high moral state of being like mica 
 in the rock. They are capricious and uncertain like 
 mica in the mud, mixed up with such a confusion of 
 motives and feelings that what induces him to act in one 
 way to-day may induce him to act in another way to- 
 morrow. Having no fixed rule of conduct or action, he 
 is the slave of interest and expediency, and his virtues 
 are determined by these. And therefore it is that the 
 man who stands justified and approved before himself 
 and the world, stands utterly condemned before God; 
 and all natural men are included under sin, and there is 
 no difference. 
 
 As chemical cleanliness is essential for the successful 
 performance of certain physical experiments, so spiritual 
 purity is an essential qualification for the enjoyment of 
 certain spiritual privileges. " Blessed are the pure in 
 heart, for they shall see God," said our Saviour in that 
 great sermon on the mount, in which he delivered to 
 those who were entering His kingdom the great principles 
 of moral righteousness. That purity which comes not 
 of ceremonial cleansings scrupulous washings of cups 
 and platters, hands and vestments, or the mere outward 
 
176 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 observance of the precepts of the law but from having 
 a heart right with God, has a wonderful keenness of 
 spiritual insight, an all-penetrating spiritual intuition. 
 As the transparent atmosphere of a summer day brings 
 the most distant objects near, and reveals the minutest 
 details and outlines of the landscape, so the purity of a 
 heart filled with the love of God brings out with the 
 utmost distinctness and vividness the glories of the 
 heavenly world reveals those deep things of God, those 
 mysteries of the divine life, which are wonderful to soul 
 rather than to sense. It looks through the superficial and 
 delusive appearance, and penetrates to the real inward 
 significance of things. It knows the eternal meaning of 
 facts, the Divine relations of persons, how they appear 
 before God, and are related to His purpose and kingdom. 
 It understands in some measure the secret of the Lord 
 in His works of nature and providence the meaning of 
 those natural hieroglyphics which point us to heavenly 
 realities the purport of those providential dealings which 
 disclose the Divine will the design of every trial and 
 blessing. While others are perplexed and in difficulty, 
 the pure-hearted see a plain path before them, and a 
 clear sky above them. God Himself is known by those 
 who are in some measure pure as He is pure, in a way 
 which others cannot conceive. As a lake mirrors the 
 sky in its bosom, making of air and water one beauteous 
 ideal scene, so the heart that is free from the defilement 
 and disturbance of sense and passion, and turned in 
 thought and affection towards God, realizes a junction 
 of heaven and earth, of God and the soul. In every 
 
viii.] SPIRITUAL CATHARISM. 177 
 
 pure and loving heart Divinity is united to humanity. 
 God is not far off; He dwells in the heart, and the heart 
 dwells in Him. The Israelite indeed, in whom is no 
 guile, sees heaven always opened ; and the mystic ladder 
 which binds the seen and the unseen is ever set up in 
 his heart. He has always freedom of access to the pre- 
 sence of God. " Who," says the Psalmist, " shall ascend 
 into the hill of the Lord, and who shall stand in His holy 
 place ? He that hath clean hands and a pure heart." 
 The prophet Isaiah echoes the same reply : " He that 
 walketh righteously, and speaketh uprightly, and shutteth 
 his eyes from seeing evil, he shall dwell on high ; his 
 place of defence shall be the munitions of rocks ; his 
 eyes shall see the King in His beauty ; they shall behold 
 the land that is very far off." 
 
 Although there were no barrier save foulness of nature, 
 this of itself would be sufficient to prevent all fellowship 
 with God. The man whose hands are unclean, whose 
 heart is impure, cannot in the nature of things ascend 
 into the hill of God, or stand in His holy place. His 
 own moral condition would prevent his entering, although 
 the door were thrown wide open. His presence would 
 be as great a source of disorder and disturbance among 
 the pure elements of God's abode, as a speck of dust in 
 a chemical solution. He would feel out of keeping with 
 the place, and out of harmony with Him who is the light 
 and the glory of it. He would have no enjoyment there, 
 for the constitution of his nature is essentially a moral 
 one, and therefore a pure heart is necessary to his hap- 
 piness wherever he is. His character must be brought 
 
 N 
 
178 THE MINISTR Y OF NA TURE. [CHAP. 
 
 into conformity with his conscience, for conscience is an 
 essential part of his nature, and cannot be destroyed. So 
 long as it exists, it must protest against sin, which is a 
 disease of the moral nature no matter how pure may 
 be the circumstances by which he is surrounded, how 
 glorious the place in which he may happen to be. 
 Where this antagonism between conscience and cha- 
 racter prevails, it is obvious that there can be no true 
 happiness even in the very presence of God. " There is 
 no peace, saith my God, to the wicked " anywhere. 
 
 Practically, impurity subjects a man to many losses and 
 evils. Not more thoroughly do the clouds intercept the 
 light and heat of the sun, and prevent the deposition of 
 dew, than do the impure exhalations of the soul intercept 
 the light and saving health of God's countenance, and 
 hinder the reviving influences of the dew of grace. As 
 in the process of crystallization every speck of dust 
 becomes a nucleus, drawing to itself all the particles in 
 the solution ; so every sin becomes the centre-point of 
 other sins takes to itself seven spirits more wicked than 
 itself, with which to pollute the whole nature. It is as 
 impossible to keep an impure soul from adding sin to 
 sin, as it is to keep a chemical solution exposed to the 
 motes of the air without crystallizing. It attracts to 
 itself all the hidden evil of its own being, and all the evil 
 that lurks in its surrounding circumstances, and with 
 these it builds up a dark, poisonous moral structure, 
 appalling from its compact symmetry and concentrated 
 power. Then, too, the strong hold which the love of the 
 world, and the heat and fierceness of passion, have over 
 
VIIL] SPIRITUAL CATHARISM. 
 
 179 
 
 us ; the grovelling of our imaginations among images of 
 vanity, lust, and earthliness ; the evil suggestions that 
 arise spontaneously in our heart, even amid the purest 
 scenes and in the most sacred employments ; our little 
 knowledge of Christ, His person, character, and work 
 our little experience of God, as a presence manifested in 
 the soul ; our little sensibility to sin and appreciation of 
 the purity and saintliness of the Christian character ; our 
 little longing after heaven and heavenly-mindedness, not 
 because of the world's weariness and disgusts which all 
 men feel, but because of the heart's positive affinities for 
 what is holy and spiritual ; all these losses and evils are 
 caused by our impurity by the sin that stains and 
 darkens the soul, and destroys its spiritual life. 
 
 When the Psalmist says that the only man who can 
 ascend God's hill, and dwell in His holy place, is he 
 whose hands are clean and whose heart is pure, it is 
 obvious that he is chanting the praises of the Messiah 
 shadowing forth the spotless purity of our ascending 
 Lord. To none else does the description apply. He 
 alone is the absolutely sinless One. Holy, harmless, 
 undefiled, and separate from sinners, He fulfilled the work 
 which He came on earth to do, and with His Father's 
 perfect approbation He ascended the everlasting hill, 
 and now dwells in the holy place. In the absolute 
 sense, no mere man has clean hands and a pure heart. 
 Perfect, absolute purity cannot be realized in a world 
 lying in wickedness like this, and by fallible creatures 
 so full of corruption as we are. As we cannot be made 
 chemically clean by any process which would not destroy 
 
 N 2 
 
i So 7 HE MINISTRY OF NATURE. JCHAI-. 
 
 us, so we cannot be made perfectly holy until the walls 
 of this tabernacle of flesh, in which the leprosy of sin is 
 so inherent and inseparable, be taken down in the grave, 
 and be rebuilt as an habitation of God through the 
 Spirit. " Sin is in this world the imperishable token of 
 humanity." It is not something which has penetrated 
 into our nature from without, and may therefore be ex- 
 pelled by a force within. It is rooted in the invisible, 
 inscrutable depths of our spiritual nature, and mingles 
 its poison with the very source of our being, with the 
 very first beginnings of our spiritual and natural life. 
 We were born in sin, and conceived in iniquity; and 
 therefore we cannot altogether cast off this evil power, 
 or root it out, or reach its origin, by any expulsive power 
 or curative process that can be furnished on earth. The 
 purest saint that has ever lived cannot appear before 
 Infinite Purity, without carrying into His presence much 
 of that moral defilement which he hates, but which 
 still cleaves to him. If, therefore, absolute purity of 
 hands and heart be the only qualification, none can 
 follow Christ where He has gone ; not one of the human 
 race can ascend God's hill, or dwell in His holy place. 
 That shrine must be an unapproachable solitude none 
 can be within save the great High Priest Himself, 
 girded with His spotless linen ephod, and clothed with 
 His garments of glory and beauty. 
 
 But though the highest condition of purity be thus 
 unattainable on earth, the process of purification can be 
 commenced here; some degrees of it can be attained. 
 By every man a higher and yet higher stage can be 
 
VIIT.] SPIRITUAL CATPIARISM. 181 
 
 reached ; there need be no limit to the process while life 
 remains. And access to God's presence by the new and 
 living way is open to purity that is very far indeed from 
 being perfect that feels itself to be compassed about 
 with many infirmities, and is constrained to cry out, " O 
 wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me from this 
 bondage of sin and death ? " If we are seeking earnestly 
 spiritual cleansing, even though we have not obtained it 
 if we are struggling so honestly and perseveringly 
 against impurity that we can say, " It is no longer I, but 
 sin that dwelleth in me," in the midst of humiliation and 
 defeat, then no fetters of sin can keep us from God's 
 holy place, or take away from us His love. We shall 
 have a measure of insight and privilege proportioned to 
 the degree of our purity. The clearer our character, the 
 clearer our vision of God ; the purer our heart and 
 hands, the fuller and happier the enjoyment of com- 
 munion and fellowship with Him. And before this 
 growing purity is held out the hope of dwelling for ever 
 in that holy place where nothing that defileth can enter, 
 a hope which of itself tends to purify the heart, and 
 raise its desires and affections above the world. For this 
 perfect purity of being and condition, the discipline of 
 life is a preparation, the religion of Christ is a sanctifying 
 power, so that he who yields to the will of God, which is 
 our sanctifi cation, and experiences the renewing power 
 of the Spirit, has not only absolute purity as his aim 
 and end, but has the assurance, in the midst of many 
 failures, that he will yet be presented faultless before the 
 presence of God's glory with exceeding joy. "These 
 
1 82 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 are they which came out of great tribulation, and have 
 washed their robes and made them white in the blood 
 of the Lamb." 
 
 Yes ; blessed be God, the lost purity of man can be 
 restored ! The soul that has sinned and polluted itself 
 almost hopelessly, can be recovered and made purer and 
 holier even than Adam was before he fell so pure that 
 he will be utterly inaccessible to all evil as high above 
 the reach of temptation, the slightest suggestion of sin, 
 as God Himself. We are surprised to be told in the che- 
 mical manufactory, that the splendid mass of pure and 
 gorgeously-tinted crystals, which excites our admiration, 
 has been started into existence by the dirty hands of the 
 workmen. But the Gospel tells us of a far greater marvel ; 
 and we have seen it in our every-day life. From the 
 darkest human sin, by reason of the contrition and 
 humility and faith to which it has given birth and which 
 gather around it, may spring up the loveliest and most 
 transparent Christian life. God can raise up from the 
 lowest depths of depravity to which successful temptation 
 can reduce a human being, a purity that is higher and 
 grander even than the purity that has never fallen that 
 is pure as Christ is pure. The mud that men trampled 
 under foot can be recovered from its mixture of foulness ; 
 and its particles, losing their attraction for foreign sub- 
 stances, and rejecting them all, may gather together and 
 form a crystal purer than that from whose destruction the 
 mud originated. And so the vilest human character can 
 be lifted out of the mire of sin, and so purged of its ac- 
 quired pollution so recovered from its noxious mixture 
 
vni.] SPIRITUAL CATHARISM. 185 
 
 of fear, doubt, selfishness, and temptation, by being made 
 single-eyed and single-hearted as that it will reflect much 
 of the glory of God from its transparent simplicity. 
 
 But what is this potent alchemy, more wonderful than 
 the fabled transmutation of lead into gold, more astonish- 
 ing than the brilliant dyes and crystals which modern 
 chemistry brings out of the vilest refuse ? Who or what 
 can bring a clean thing out of an unclean? It is not 
 man's work or training, but the gift and the inspiration 
 of God. By no process of discipline or education, b/ 
 nothing that can act upon our outer conduct, or that can 
 reach us only through our senses, can impurity be trans- 
 formed into purity. As the power of sin is inward, 
 rooting itself in the very substance of the soul, so the 
 power of sanctification that is to extirpate it must also 
 be inward, and mingle with the secret fountains from 
 which our being issues. As sin is not a succession of 
 separate evil acts, but an evil principle of action, so 
 holiness is a state of being, and not the adopting of 
 certain maxims or the performance of certain deeds. 
 Purity cannot be attained by the works of the law, by a 
 system of rules and discipline, although these influences 
 which act upon us from without are excellent in their own 
 place and order, and necessary for the development of it. 
 It must be communicated by the same Power that first 
 made the soul itself, contending with sin in the very citadel 
 of its dominion. Our purification must come directly 
 from God Himself, and must begin with that which He 
 puts into us, with " that movement of the heart and con- 
 science which we call faith," and which is His gift. The 
 
1 84 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 righteousness of Christ is the only nucleus around which 
 the human soul will arise out of its corruption and foul 
 mixture of motives and desires, and crystallize into a 
 pure and transparent character. His blood alone can 
 wash away our guilt, and make our sins which are as 
 scarlet white as snow. Christ dwelling in us by faith is 
 the living new-creating power that is the centre point of 
 all our purity. Not only does He purify us by investiture, 
 clothe us with His own spotless character when we are 
 justified by faith in Him and accepted of God for His 
 sake, and keep us in the mould, as it were, of this super- 
 induced character, but His Spirit works out purity in us 
 as the life and law of our soul. He brings every thought 
 into captivity to the obedience of Christ ; He brings the 
 broken, mixed, disordered chaos of our passions and 
 principles back to the regularity and simplicity that is in 
 Christ Jesus. He makes one principle to dominate us 
 the love of God ; one end to determine our efforts the 
 glory of God. And, in proportion as Christ is thus living 
 in us, and we in Him, so in proportion are the impurities 
 of our nature clarified, and the old affinities of sin extir- 
 pated. We become by the righteousness of Christ 
 upon us for justification, and by the righteousness of 
 Christ wrought out in us by the sanctifying power of the 
 Spirit gradually more and more like our Lord, pure 
 as He is pure, and perfect as our Father in heaven is 
 perfect. 
 
 Chemical cleanliness, I have said, is produced by 
 washing vessels and substances that are employed in expe- 
 riments in strong sulphuric acid, or with a strong solution ' 
 
VIIL] . SPIRITUAL CATHARISM. 185 
 
 of caustic potash, and then rinsing with water. Analogous 
 to these powerful appliances are the means which God 
 often employs to produce moral purity, those chastenings 
 of the flesh and crucifixions of the spirit which are not 
 joyous but grievous. He sends sickness, that wears 
 out the body ; trouble, that racks the mind ; and sorrow, 
 that takes all the relish out of life. He mortifies self- 
 seeking by disappointment, and humbles pride by failure. 
 He makes lust its own scourge, and the idolatry of the 
 heart its own punishment. By all these searching and 
 terribly energetic purifiers, that corrode the soul as sul- 
 phuric acid does the body, He helps forward outwardly 
 the Spirit's work of renewing in the heart. His will is 
 our sanctification ; this is the great end to which all the 
 physical universe is subordinated, and even sacrificed, if 
 necessary, for which every movement and object on earth 
 are working together; 'his is the grand design and 
 crowning glory of the work of redemption, to accom- 
 plish which He spared not His own Son, but gave Him 
 up to death for us all. And, if He spared not His own 
 Son, most assuredly He will not spare us, if scourging 
 and chastisement be needed for the purification of our 
 souls. Although judgment is His strange work, and He 
 has no pleasure in afflicting the sons of men, yet will He 
 afflict us, and that more severely, the more He desires 
 that we should yield the peaceable fruits of righteousness. 
 He applies trials and temptations as tests to our prin- 
 ciples and dispositions, as experiments to discover and 
 display the reality and the degree of the evil that is in us. 
 He has provided that the ordinary discipline of the soul 
 
1 85 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 should be the discipline of temptation, which makes 
 it inevitable that we should sometimes fall. He wishes 
 us, through sore grappling with the evils of life, and being 
 sometimes worsted by them, to feel our own weakness 
 and the strength that He brings ; He wishes us, through 
 darkness, sorrow, and death, to have within us the rich- 
 ness of our own experience ; our principles to be not 
 mere sentiments, but living powers whose strength we 
 have proved in many a sad night of wrestling with sorrow, 
 legacies of blessing that the vanquished angel has left 
 behind to us. Ah, it needs the heat of severe and oft- 
 repeated and long- protracted trial, working together with 
 God's Spirit, to evaporate the incongruous elements of 
 sin and sense that make us impure, and build up with 
 the broken diverse fragments of our character, that stub- 
 bornly refuse to unite in harmony under any self-derived 
 power of man, the pure transparent crystal of Christian 
 simplicity ; oneness of knowledge " One thing I know, 
 that, whereas I was blind, now I see ;" oneness of desire 
 " One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek 
 after, that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the 
 days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and 
 to inquire in His temple ;" oneness of action " This one 
 thing I dOj forgetting those things which are behind, and 
 reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press 
 toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God 
 in Christ Jesus." 
 
 And these trials of purity come to us on the great 
 crowded highway of life, and amid the common expo- 
 sures of the world's daily work. This is not the doctrine 
 
viii.] SPIRITUAL CATHARISM. 187 
 
 of many who imagine, with the monks and hermits of 
 old, that spiritual purity, saintliness of soul and life, is a 
 star that dwells apart, associated only with seclusion and 
 meditation, with the solitude and celibacy of the cell, and 
 the stillness and inanition of the sick-room. We hear 
 constant complaints of the many and grievous obstacles 
 placed in the way of spiritual purity by the vile works 
 and ways of men. Such individuals would reverse the 
 Saviour's prayer for His disciples, and wish, in order to be 
 kept from the evil, to be taken out of the world. And 
 yet it is by the discipline of these very obstacles that the 
 lost chastity of the soul is to be restored. Nothing can 
 so cleanse and brace us up in uncorrupted vigour as 
 doing our duty, the work that lies to our hand, even in 
 the midst of the foul sights and sounds, the dark temp- 
 tations and sorrows of our ordinary sphere. The nature 
 that is allowed to settle on its lees in the midst of soli- 
 tude, with nothing to think of but how to attain purity, 
 retains a sediment of carnality which the least temptation 
 will stir up, converting in a moment the whole pellucid 
 fountain into a polluted pool ; retains, even in the absence 
 of all temptations, the scent and taste of its own lusts and 
 passions, which rage with greater violence because there is 
 nothing else to occupy the soul. We ought to be thankful 
 therefore that we have work to do in the midst of human 
 haunts, for thus alone can we escape from the infection 
 of our own evil humours, and follow after " that holiness 
 which is not separation from work or innocent recreation, 
 or any of those scenes and circumstances which are 
 lawful, but from whatever is unworthy of God's presence, 
 
1 88 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 from the evil thoughts and actions which offend Him, 
 and which conscience feels to be profane." 
 
 Nor are we to confound the beautiful world of God 
 with that kingdom of Satan set up in man's heart and 
 in society which the New Testament calls the world- - 
 and to which it forbids us to be conformed. Many do 
 this to their own great moral hurt. With an austere piety 
 they regard the physical beauties that abound on every 
 side of them as trials, and spurn them beneath their feet 
 in their constant looking away to heaven, and their long- 
 ing to get to a better world. But what does this world 
 itself require, but that they and their fellow-creatures 
 should be better than they are. In this earth of ours it 
 is only man that is vile. Nature hates all forms of im- 
 purity ; she speedily hides them from view, or works 
 them up into pure substances. The pollutions which 
 man causes by his works, the decays and corruptions of 
 her own objects, she transforms by her wonderful alchemy 
 into perfect and beautiful things. She hastens to crys- 
 tallize her rough rocks into diamonds and rubies; to 
 evaporate into golden clouds her polluted waters ; to 
 adorn with the glories of light the dark shapes of the 
 thunderstorm ; to cover all the deformities of her own 
 surface with a living robe of rainbow loveliness. How 
 transparent are her waters; how exquisite her verdure; 
 how clear and bright her skies ! The footsteps of God on 
 this earth are holy footsteps ; from the print of each of 
 them springs up the snow-white flower or the radiant 
 jewel. Every bush is burning with God ; and every spot 
 of earth is holy ground. Notwithstanding the miserable 
 
VIIL] SPIRITUAL CATHARISM. 189 
 
 disorder and ruin which man's presence and sin have 
 brought upon nature, we cannot but discern in it still 
 traces of celestial purity, recollections and memories of 
 Edenic holiness. The forest can lift up its pure leafy 
 hands ; the flower-cup can swing its stainless censer ; 
 the stream can murmur with the blue of heaven in its 
 depths ; and the mountain, the religion of the landscape, 
 can raise its snowy peak to the near vicinity of the great 
 white throne itself; and all can join in their own sym- 
 pathy of innocence and purity in the creation-song of the 
 four living creatures " Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Al- 
 mighty, which was, and is, and is to come." Did we feel 
 the holiness of that nature which is God's footstool, on 
 which the blessed feet of Jesus walked, on which His 
 precious blood was poured forth in consecration, we 
 should ever be putting off our shoes in reverence and 
 awe. We should feel that it is we who are unworthy 
 of nature, and not nature that is unworthy of us ; that 
 
 
 
 " this fair creation is more like heaven than we are like 
 angels." Instead of despising the world, therefore, in 
 our haste to ascend to a better, let us endeavour to 
 make ourselves more fitting inhabitants of it. The 
 purer we ourselves become, the purer will all things 
 become to us, the more beautiful we shall feel the earth 
 to be. Nature is full of our own human heart, is a 
 reflection of our own nature ; and the beauty we admire 
 in it is the sympathetic expression of the beauty of our 
 spirit. We act upon it, and it reacts upon us. Thus 
 the man of clean hands and pure heart, whose blameless 
 outer life tells unmistakeably what he is under all the 
 
190 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. vin. 
 
 influences of the eyes of others, and who keeps sacred 
 to God that inner shrine of the soul hidden from the 
 most loving and intimate friend, feels that the tabernacle 
 of God is already with men, and that he is a dweller in 
 it. He sees around him the paradise which others 
 lament they have lost, and for which they can only seek 
 in another world by being disgusted with this ; he exor- 
 cises all the evil of earthly things by the name of Christ, 
 whom he serves ; and, not defiling his garments, keeping 
 them unspotted from the flesh, he realizes even now and 
 here the fulfilment of the promise, " They shall walk with 
 me in white, for they are worthy." 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE ACTION OF PRESENCE. 
 " For none of us liveth to himself." ROMANS xiv. 7. 
 
 E of the most remarkable phenomena in chemistry 
 is that which is known as " catalysis," or the 
 u action of presence." It is called by the latter name 
 because the mere presence of a certain substance among 
 the atoms of another substance produces the most exten- 
 sive changes upon these atoms ; and yet the body thus 
 operating is itself unchanged. Thus, for instance, starch 
 is converted into sugar and gum, at a certain tempera- 
 ture, by the presence of an acid which does not parti- 
 cipate in the change. It has long been known that a 
 current of hydrogen gas directed upon a piece of 
 polished platinum will take fire that is, unite with the 
 oxygen of the atmosphere through the influence of the 
 metal; and yet the platinum will remain completely 
 unaltered. So also gold and silver possess the power of 
 decomposing the binoxide of hydrogen, without any effect 
 being produced upon themselves. Modern discovery has 
 
192 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 greatly extended the list of substances which possess 
 this extraordinary property of resolving compounds into 
 new forms, or chemically combining heterogeneous atoms, 
 by their mere presence no action being detected on 
 themselves. The power of catalysis is found to be very 
 common both in the organic and the inorganic world. 
 We see familiar examples of it in fermentation ; in the 
 change produced upon meal by the introduction of leaven 
 or yeast; in the process of germination, by which the 
 starch of the seed is converted into sugar and gum, and 
 thus rendered soluble, so that it may rise up as sap in 
 the young shoot ; in the secretion of the blood ; and in 
 the morbid effects produced in the human system by in- 
 fection from gases, miasma, or putrid matter. In short, 
 very many of the most important actions of growth and 
 decay, of life and death throughout the animal and vege- 
 table kingdoms, are produced by this catalytic power. 
 
 But it is not in the chemical world alone that we 
 find illustrations of the " action of presence." The at- 
 traction of cohesion, which unites the particles of every 
 substance together; and the attraction of gravitation, 
 which draws the lighter and smaller body to the larger 
 and heavier, and by which rolling worlds are kept in 
 their appointed orbits, are caused by something that may 
 be considered akin to this law. To what else can we attri- 
 bute the analogous fact that the external appearance of 
 many animals bears a definite relation to the appearance of 
 the soil on which they live, or the objects by which they 
 are surrounded ; the tree-frog being green like the woods, 
 the grouse brown like the moors, the skate tawny like 
 
IX.] THE ACTION OF PRESENCE. 193 
 
 the sandy bottom of the sea, and the Arctic bear white 
 like its snow-clad haunts ? It is not inconsistent with 
 the simplicity of nature to suppose, that some mysterious 
 modification of the same law of chemical affinity and of 
 attraction, may produce the great empirical or regional 
 resemblance subsisting between all the plants and animals 
 belonging to one continent and its dependencies a 
 resemblance so marked in general effect, and often in 
 individual detail, that were an experienced naturalist to 
 be shown a new plant or animal, without its locality 
 being indicated, he would be able, from its typical 
 peculiarities, to tell the country from which it had come. 
 Ascending higher, we find the influence of this principle 
 in the characteristic features of mental, moral, and 
 physical likeness which the inhabitants of a particular 
 district acquire ; and in the resemblance so often noticed 
 between the countenances of husband and wife who have 
 lived long together. 
 
 But it is in the social world that we see the most 
 striking examples of the " action of presence." Human 
 beings are unceasingly exerting unconscious influence 
 upon one another. Insensibly to themselves, they are 
 moulding each other's character, conduct, and destiny. 
 Without any thought, or intention, or even consciousness 
 of the fact, one man is stimulating or depressing another, 
 and producing results of the most vital and lasting im- 
 portance. How different are the effects produced by 
 intercourse with different individuals ! The very pre- 
 sence of some is like sunshine, brightening .and cheering 
 all who come within their influence, stimulating mental 
 
 o 
 
194 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 and spiritual growth, while the society of others acts 
 like a dark cloud, intercepting light and warmth, chilling 
 the feelings, and arresting the development of mind 
 and heart. We feel at once at our ease in the pre- 
 sence of some people ; we speak freely and naturally, 
 we are elevated by the unconscious influence that ema- 
 nates from them. On the other hand, we are ill at ease, 
 awkward and reserved in the expression of our thoughts 
 and feelings, depressed and unhappy, in the presence of 
 others. On a large scale we see the effects of the same 
 law of unconscious influence in the conventionalities of 
 life : in the arbitrary fashions which regulate dress, mode 
 of living, and all outward appointments ; in the enthu- 
 siasm of a crowd ; in the panics or social stampedes 
 which, with a strange periodicity, convulse trade ; in the 
 moral epidemics of the Middle Ages, which agitated a 
 whole generation, and seem fables to us; and in the 
 various forms of what may be called contagious frenzies 
 in later times. The instinct of imitation, based upon this 
 unconscious influence, is one of the most powerful in 
 human nature moulding the form of society, and deter- 
 mining the kind and degree of civilization. Few indeed 
 possess sufficient strength of mind, or originality of cha- 
 racter, to resist the subtle and all-pervading influence 
 which makes a whole community conform to one 
 common standard of thought or action. 
 
 The hem of Christ's garment was instinct with healing 
 power ; and we read that the very shadow of the apostles 
 passing by shed silent virtue on the sick laid by the 
 wayside. And so in a manner is it with Chiistians still. 
 
ix.] THE ACTION CF PRESENCE. 195 
 
 The hem of their garment of -righteousness the pure 
 linen, white and clean, of their example imparts hea- 
 venly healing to all who touch it often when the wearers 
 are themselves unconscious that virtue has gone out of 
 them. The shadow, as it were, of their bright virtues, 
 of their godly lives, falls upon those with whom they 
 associate, with inspiriting and sanctifying power. Such 
 individuals are called the light of the world; and as 
 naturally as the sun shines on the face of nature, so 
 naturally do their lives shine upon society. Not by an 
 exercise of will, but by spontaneous effulgence, do they 
 illuminate, warm, and quicken the circle of their ac- 
 quaintances. But this nameless influence, which goes 
 out from their least conscious hours, is different in 
 different cases. Though Christ's disciples have a general 
 family likeness, they differ widely in the minor features 
 of their character, temperament, experience, and conduct. 
 The natural man often shines through the new man, and 
 produces an alien impression. One is morose, gloomy, 
 and bigoted ; his very presence acts like an acid, souring 
 the milk of human kindness and innocence. Another is 
 severe with a Pharisaic strictness that interferes with the 
 liberty of the Gospel, and makes sad the heart that God 
 has not made sad " putting the mere dead rule above 
 the principle, and teaching that ceremonial observances 
 are of more importance than the true human impulses." 
 A third is morbid, shut up in himself, oppressed with 
 little fidgety difficulties and trials, imagining that God 
 desires sacrifice, not mercy. All these Christians are, 
 insensibly to themselves, producing an etlect upon others 
 o 2 
 
196 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 quite contrary to what they wish : they are giving a 
 wrong idea of their religion to the world ; they are not 
 only hardening their own human feelings, but also those 
 of others, and creating a distaste, and even aversion, for 
 what is called evangelical goodness, which all the teach- 
 ing of their lips cannot counteract. On the other hand, 
 there are Christians whose faces are always lighted up 
 with a uniform calm and cheerfulness whose feelings 
 are as warmly human as they are truly heavenly ; and 
 these Christians produce in others a sense of their close 
 relation to God, and breathe around them an atmosphere 
 as healthy and exhilarating as the air on a mountain-top. 
 To the world outside, they give a fair and adequate 
 representation of what Christianity is and does. By their 
 living in full-orbed harmony the human as well as the 
 divine ideals of the Gospel, they bring them nearer to 
 the sympathies of those who have not yet yielded to 
 their influence. To their fellow-Christians they are ex- 
 ceedingly helpful in the warfare in which they are 
 mutually engaged ; for, singing at their Master's work, 
 they encourage by their joyousness those who are tempted 
 to* flinch from duty, and contribute to make their work 
 easier for all around them. 
 
 There are three things connected with this spiritual 
 .catalysis, or "action of presence," which demand our 
 .attention : first, its truthfulness ; second, its constancy ; 
 ,and third, its responsibility. 
 
 i. This unconscious influence is eminently truthful. 
 We say of children that they instinctively know those 
 who love them, and go to such at once ; while no kind 
 
ir.] THE ACTION OF PRESENCE. 197 
 
 words or sweet looks will allure them to the side of those 
 who are not at heart and always lovers of the little ones. 
 What is this so-called instinct of children, but just the 
 impression which a true character is making upon a 
 guileless heart, made more susceptible, and gifted, by 
 virtue of its simplicity, with an insight unknown to the 
 wise and prudent ? So also every one has noticed the 
 fondness of animals for certain persons, and their aversion 
 to others. A 'dog will allow one person to fondle and 
 play with it in circumstances in which it will not permit 
 another to approach it; 1 and even an occasional harsh 
 word from one who truly loves it, will avail more with it 
 than all the tempting bribes of one who is indifferent. 
 And the reason of this is, that the plastic nature of the 
 dumb creature is affected by the real character of the 
 individual. For it man has but one ' language which it 
 can understand the language of a kind \ and loving 
 nature. True heartfelt interest is recognised even under 
 the mask of temporary harshness, for love is justified of 
 love; whereas callousness or hatred is detected ' under 
 any disguise of apparent warmth and interest assumed 
 for the occasion. In a similar way grown-up men 
 and women are affected, though not perhaps so strongly 
 and immediately, by the true character of those with 
 whom they associate. 
 
 Every Christian is producing two sets of influences. 
 Two currents of power issue from him, which set in 
 motion the wheels of life around him. One is the un- 
 conscious, involuntary influence of his real character; 
 the other is the voluntary influence of what he con- 
 
198 FHE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 sciously says and does what he says and does for a 
 special purpose. Now these two currents that flow from 
 him may be opposed to one another. The one that seeks 
 to set in motion the wheels of life may be neutralized by 
 the one that comes in the opposite direction, and tends 
 to make them stand still. The character may be saying 
 one thing, and the lips and conduct another. A man 
 preaches love to Christ and to men ; but if his own heart 
 and life are not saturated with this love if it is not an 
 experience in his own heart he will preach in vain : for 
 the language of his nature will be opposed to the language 
 of his lips ; the influence of his character will contradict 
 the influence of his words. The power of character arises 
 from its truthfulness. It cannot be concealed or neutra- 
 lized by any profession or affectation, however plausible. 
 In vain does a man profess to be what he is not. His true 
 character shines out through the disguise in spite of him. 
 The mask worn for a purpose continually falls off or slips 
 aside, and reveals the natural face behind. It is impos- 
 sible, by any amount of ingenuity or contrivance, to keep 
 up a false appearance. The tone, the look, the attitude, 
 are continually betraying a man ; and in the sensibilities 
 of men he is at once unmasked in the feeling of his 
 fellow-creatures he is known exactly for what he is. 
 
 There is a species of animalcule called Rotifera, living 
 in tufts of mosses, which, when placed under the micro- 
 scope, is found to be transparent as crystal. You see all 
 its internal organs, and the processes of life going on in 
 the inside of its body, as you see the works of a watch 
 through its covering of glass. We are like this creature, 
 
ix.] THE ACTION OF PRESENCE. 199 
 
 for we inhabit tabernacles which are equally transparent ; 
 and our motives, our feelings, our whole mental and 
 moral economy, are showing themselves externally by 
 signs which have no ambiguous meaning. I may not be 
 able to tell why I think a certain person is not a genuine 
 character, but I have an instinctive feeling that he is not 
 what he pretends to be. So says every one of a false 
 friend : and we may depend upon it that our character 
 is truthful, and is producing its own proper impression, 
 whatever our words or deeds may be ; that it is what we 
 naturally are, and not what we pretend to be, that is 
 influencing others. In this way a man gets his deserts 
 as a rule. According to this principle, no one ever did 
 good or evil without hearing of it again without finding 
 that there have been plentiful witnesses conversant of it, 
 however secret. The eye of God is on us always, and 
 the eye of man much oftener than the shrewdest of us 
 imagine. 
 
 2. But I pass on to consider the constancy with which 
 this unconscious influence is exerted. Not more con- 
 stantly is the sun pouring forth its beams, or a flower 
 exhaling its fragrance, than the Christian is radiating or 
 exhaling influence from his character upon those around 
 him. Wherever he is, whatever he does, this influence 
 never ceases. It underlies all his actions ; it runs side 
 by side with his words ; it goes on when action ceases 
 and words fail. What a man voluntarily chooses, says, 
 or does, is only occasional. He does not always think 
 or always act. From pure fatigue he must, perforce, be 
 s.lent and inactive at times. But what he is that is 
 
200 THE MINISTRY OP NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 necessarily perpetual, and co-extensive with his being. I 
 cannot always speak a word for Christ, but I can always 
 live for him ; I cannot always do good actively I may 
 not have the opportunity, though I have the inclination 
 but I can always be good passively. The voluntary lan- 
 guage of what I say or do is spasmodic, and liable to 
 continual interruption; but the language of my character, 
 of what I really am, is as continuous as my life itself, 
 and suffers no more interruption than the beating of my 
 heart or the breathing of my lungs. I can choose to do 
 good or evil, to say a kind or bitter word ; but I cannot 
 choose to exert or repress the influence of my character, 
 for it acts in spite of me it produces its own proper 
 impression whether I think of it or not. I cannot live 
 at all without radiating this influence. " Simply to be in 
 this world is to exert an influence compared with which 
 mere words and acts are feeble." Just as the leaven, by 
 its mere presence, changes the particles of meal in the 
 midst of which it is hid, so does each human being, by 
 his mere presence, affect for good or evil those with 
 whom he associates. 
 
 3. For this unconscious influence that we thus 
 constantly exert upon one another, we imagine that we 
 are not responsible. A man, we are apt to say, cannot 
 help the secret virtue that goes out of him to heal another, 
 or the depressing or evil effect of his presence, look, or 
 conversation, when he is not acting for a purpose, or 
 setting himself up as an example. We are responsible 
 for our voluntary words and actions, for the influence 
 that we desire to produce upon others j but for the 
 
ix.] THE ACTION OF PRESENCE. 201 
 
 unconscious, involuntary effect of our character and life, 
 we think we are no more responsible than we are for 
 the involuntary beating of our hearts, or the involuntary 
 action of our lungs no more responsible than the moon 
 is for producing the tides of Earth, or Neptune for 
 creating the perturbations of Uranus. A moment's 
 serious reflection, however, will convince us that we 
 cannot thus repudiate our responsibility in the matter. 
 For what is our character? Is it not the sum and 
 result of our thoughts, feelings, and actions ? What is 
 our life ? Is it not a structure built up of all that 
 we have said and done and experienced? This cha- 
 racter we ourselves have formed ; this life we ourselves 
 have built up, by the action and reaction of our deeds. 
 The character, when finished, passes beyond our control, 
 and exerts its own influence independent of our active 
 wishes and efforts. But we ourselves had the forming 
 of it, by a series of thoughts, words, and deeds, over 
 which at the time we had complete cont/ol; just as 
 the drunkard, by a series of acts of indulgence, which 
 at first he can regulate or resist altogether, forms at last 
 a habit which makes him completely its slave. We 
 cannot help the silent influence which our character, 
 when formed, produces ; but we are responsible for the 
 formation of it. It lies with every man to determine, 
 under God, what his character shall be. True, there are 
 hereditary tendencies, different constitutions, tempera- 
 ments, and circumstances, that exert a modifying influ- 
 ence which no self- discipline can entirely counteract. 
 But, making all due allowance for the disturbing effects 
 
202 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 of these natural or inherited conditions, it is a truth which 
 cannot be gainsaid, that there is very much in our 
 character that we ourselves have produced. Our very 
 accountability to God rests upon our ability to build 
 up a good character ; and if we are judged according 
 to the goodness and evil of our character itself, we 
 may certainly be held responsible for the good or evil 
 influence which, unknown to us, it produces upon others. 
 For that influence is the inevitable consequence of our 
 character, just as the happiness or misery of our fellow- 
 creatures is the true consequence of our good or bad 
 deeds. If we are responsible for the natural consequences 
 of our actions, we are in the same way responsible for 
 the natural effects of our character. 
 
 We cannot live in the world and escape this responsi- 
 bility, because we cannot live in the world and not exert 
 a moral influence upon others. The radiation of heat 
 from one object to another, the equalization of tempera- 
 ture, is not more certain in the physical world than the 
 distribution of influence in the moral. It is impossible 
 to trace out the full extent and ultimate consequences 
 of this spiritual "action of presence." We are so bound 
 up together in society the human race constitutes such 
 a compact and sensitive brotherhood that the power 
 which men insensibly exert over one another must spread 
 and widen, like the ripples from a stone thrown into a 
 pool, until all feel it. The ownership of sins is a very 
 solemn question, which in this view of the matter comes 
 home to every human bosom. " I ask the mountain," 
 says the author of " Thorndale," " Why art thou suddenly 
 
ix.] 7 HE ACTION OF PRESENCE. 203 
 
 so dark? and the mountain answers, Ask the passing 
 cloud that overshadows me. I ask the ocean, Why art 
 thou so changeable ? and the sea answers, Ask the sky 
 above, that showers down now sunshine and now gloom, 
 sends now calm and now stormy winds. I ask again, Why, 
 O sky, dost thou wrap thyself in gloomy clouds ? and the 
 sky answers, Ask the valleys of the earth ; they send 
 these vapours up to me they are not mine." Every par- 
 ticle of dust comes from a mine long wrought : storms, 
 earthquakes, many geological revolutions, have been 
 concerned in its origin. And thus is it in human life. 
 No man stands isolated and circumscribed within himself 
 full-orbed and self-contained. None of us liveth to 
 himself. The career of every single soul is wrought 
 out, and its moral elements are mingled by its immer- 
 sion in the social atmosphere, and its giving and 
 taking with other persons. And thus, in judging every 
 single soul, it is the whole world we judge ; for every 
 individuality is but the power of the whole manifesting 
 itself in this particular form. I go to a criminal court. I 
 see a criminal standing up at the bar pale and anguish- 
 stricken ; I hear the judge pronouncing sentence upon 
 him. I know that he is guilty ; he himself acknowledges 
 his crime, and the judge, the jury, and the spectators are 
 convinced of it. He is justly taxed with his special 
 guilt ; he is reasonably treated as the sole originator 
 of what he has done. But still I cannot help seeing the 
 sins of other men mingling with that great sin which has 
 brought him to his doom. I speak not of the active 
 influences that were employed to seduce him from the 
 
204 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 path of virtue ; for those who were guilty of this fearful 
 seduction knew it themselves, and on their head lies an 
 execration which they feel that they deserve. But I 
 speak of the unconscious influences which moulded his 
 character and paved the way for his downfall influences 
 which proceeded from men without their wishing or even 
 knowing it. At the very dawn of life, when his parents 
 and friends were unconscious of exerting any influence 
 upon him either for good or evil, he drew, by virtue of 
 the mimic powers so strong in children, secretly and 
 silently from them impressions of evil which no after 
 discipline could remove. Father and mother, by sheer 
 neglect, by their own ungodly life and irreligious cha- 
 racter, formed in him an irreligious tendency careless 
 habits, which grew with his growth and strengthened 
 with his strength. Afterwards wicked companions tainted 
 his mind and heart, till the pollution on them grew thick 
 and rank as slime on muddy pools, even when it was not 
 in their thoughts to do him an injury. Further on, 
 others helped him in his downward career by the loose- 
 ness of their own lives. Their oaths, their sensual 
 habits, their falsehood, dishonesty, and cunning, all took 
 hold of his nature, and moulded it after the same pat- 
 tern. And now I behold in the crime of this man, and 
 in the dark character from which it sprang, the miserable 
 result of a thousand sins of omission as well as commis- 
 sion, of character as well as of conduct, on the part of 
 others ; and the warning of Scripture comes home to me 
 with terrible emphasis " Neither be partakers of other 
 men's sins." Never till the day of judgment shall we be 
 
ix.] THE ACTION OF PRESENCE. 205 
 
 fully aware of our responsibility in each other's life and 
 action shall we know how thickly interwoven is the 
 web of human influence. And oh, how this partaking in 
 other men's sins, not merely by what we do voluntarily 
 for a purpose, but by the secret, unconscious influence of 
 our character and actions, will complicate the decisions 
 of that day ! How the very victims of our thoughtless 
 indulgence will come to wield the scourges of our retri- 
 bution ! 
 
 There are many whose only object in existence seems 
 to be to do no harm, who hide their talent in a napkin 
 lest it should come to evil, and to whose charge no man 
 can lay anything. Objects of the world's indulgence on 
 account of their inoffensiveness, it may nevertheless be 
 true that they are plague-spots of humanity, centres of 
 moral death, breathing deadly infection upon all who 
 come within their sphere. All the time meaning well, 
 their character, their example, may be the cause of fatal 
 injury to many. A look, a word, a deed, insensibly to 
 themselves, may " turn the scale of some one's immor- 
 tality." Chemists tell us of substances whose inertia is 
 disturbed by the slightest motion, so that they rush into 
 permanent combinations. The touch of a feather will 
 cause the iodide of nitrogen to explode, and the vibration 
 of any kind of sound will decompose it. The scratch of 
 a pin will so alter the arrangement of the molecules of 
 iodide of mercury that their action on light is altered, 
 and the colour of the whole mass is changed at once 
 from yellow to bright red. Many other substances could 
 be named whose equilibrium is so unstable, whose affi- 
 
206 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 nity is so weak, that the most insignificant and apparently 
 inadequate causes will immediately change their proper- 
 ties, so that they become henceforth quite different from 
 what they were before. It is because the equilibrium of 
 the substance on which he operates is so unsteady that 
 the photographer produces his permanent pictures by 
 sunlight ; and the greater the instability or sensitiveness 
 of the collodion, the shorter the time required to make 
 the impression, and the deeper and more lasting it will 
 be. Among the high Alps, early in the year,* the traveller 
 is told in certain places to proceed as quietly as pos- 
 sible. On the steep slopes overhead, the snow hangs so 
 evenly balanced that the sound of the voice, the crack 
 of a whip, the report of a gun, or the detachment of a 
 snowball, may destroy the equilibrium, and bring down 
 an immense avalanche that will overwhelm everything 
 within reach in ruin. Applying these illustrations of the 
 physical world to the condition of society around us, are 
 there not many whose moral character is so unstable, 
 whose principles are so unfixed, who are so evenly 
 balanced between good and evil, that a word, a look, 
 may incline them to the one side or to the other, and 
 produce effects that will alter the colour and the nature 
 of their whole future existence? Are there not souls 
 around us hanging so nicely poised on the giddy slopes 
 of temptation, watching us, and ready, on the least en- 
 couragement to evil from us of which we ourselves are 
 not conscious to come down in terrible avalanches of 
 moral ruin, crushing themselves and others in their fall ? 
 Are there not earnest ones whose holier purposes may 
 
ix.] THE ACTION OF PRESENCE. 207 
 
 have been quenched for ever by our levity and impro- 
 priety of conduct, at the critical time when the Spirit 
 was striving with them, and leading them from darkness 
 to light and from Satan to God ? 
 
 And for this unconscious evil that we produce, as well 
 as for the active evil that we speak and do, we shall be 
 held responsible by Him who has said, " Woe unto the 
 world because of offences ! It must needs be that offences 
 come ; but woe to that man by whom the offence 
 cometh ! " So common are such offences that, as Dr. 
 Temple has said, our Lord treats their occurrence as the 
 order of nature, the rule of society, a matter of necessity. 
 The offences are so sure to come that we must count upon 
 them. They are appointed to be the fire by which our 
 faith is to be tried, the test by which our truth and love 
 are to be valued ; and often, by God's grace and blessing, 
 the result is unexpectedly good a recoil from sin, a 
 revulsion to holiness. But, notwithstanding this, there 
 is no excuse for the man by whom the offence 
 cometh. Woe to that man who makes difficult the 
 path of duty to a brother by his own misconduct ; who 
 tempts him aside, or puts a stumbling-block in his 
 way by his inconsistency ! Whatever the consequences 
 may be, it were better for that man if a millstone 
 were hanged about his neck, and that he were 
 drowned in the depth of the sea. I know nothing 
 more painful to the Christian who has repented and 
 become a new creature in Christ nothing that 
 saddens more even the enjoyment 01 God's for- 
 giveness than the thought of the evil effects upon 
 
208 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. . [CHAP. 
 
 others of his example in his unconverted state ; friends 
 misled by his friendship trusting souls ruined by his 
 love, following a steady course of sin in which he 
 helped them to set out, and perpetuating that sin in 
 widening circles in this world, on to another world, while 
 he is utterly powerless to check it. Surely the thought 
 that each man is in this sense his brother's keeper that 
 God has reposed in each of us this terrible trust that 
 we are responsible not only for what we choose and mean 
 to do, but also for what the character we have formed 
 does in spite of us and unknown to us should induce us 
 to be more careful in our walk and conversation. " It 
 thou knewest," says Richter, in his " Doctrine of Edu- 
 cation," "that every black thought of thine, or every 
 glorious independent one, separated itself from thy 
 soul, and took root outside of thee, and for ages on ages 
 pushed and bore its poisonous or healing roots and fruits 
 oh, how piously wouldst thou choose and think ! " 
 
 I cannot conclude this chapter without mentioning 
 very briefly another kind of spiritual " catalysis," or 
 "action of presence." I have shown that a man may 
 do good or evil to others by the power of his character 
 unconsciously ', without being himself affected. It might 
 also be shown that a man may do good to others by 
 wishing and exerting himself to do good, while he himself 
 is ignorant of and unaffected by the goodness. This 
 last is the kind of catalytic action referred to by St. Paul 
 when he says, "Lest that by any means when I have 
 preached to others, I myself should be a castaway." 
 The Apostle in these words implies that it is possible 
 
0..] THE ACTION OF PRESENCE. 209 
 
 to do good to others, without being good oneself- that 
 it is possible to be the means of converting others, while 
 oneself is unconverted and unsaved. A lens of ice may 
 be employed to collect the rays of the sun into a focus, 
 and thus kindle a fire, while itself remains cold and 
 unmelted. And so there are many whose own hearts are 
 cold and hard as ice, who yet possess the strange power 
 under God of kindling the fire of zeal and love in the 
 hearts of others. 
 
 I have said that the influence of a man's character is 
 the true influence which he exerts that it shines through 
 every mask, assumption, and profession that it contra- 
 dicts often the power of the words and actions said and 
 done for a purpose. This is a great truth that cannot 
 be denied. But still there are cases where a man's real 
 character is not understood or found out ; and in such 
 cases his words and actions produce the effect for which 
 he spoke and performed them. We have not always an 
 opportunity of coming so closely into contact with people 
 of so watching and knowing them that we can judge 
 how far their true character and profession are in har- 
 mony. The preacher, for instance, who is seen only in 
 the pulpit, is surrounded with an atmosphere of mystery 
 haloed with the solemnity of his sacred work, and is a 
 voice crying in the wilderness ; and, known in this way 
 only, his preaching is a power which is not neutralized 
 by his private character. Besides, there are many guile- 
 less, simple-hearted, unsuspecting souls, who have faith 
 in human goodness, and take for granted that a man 
 is what he professes to be. In all such cases a man 
 p 
 
2 1 o THE MINIS TK Y OF NA TURE. [CHAP. 
 
 may do good while he is not good. Alas ! this is not 
 a matter of supposition, but of certainty. Hundreds 
 of instances could be given in which men have been 
 the means of quickening, comforting, and building up 
 souls in the Lord while all the time they themselves 
 were strangers to the power of truth, and ignorant of 
 the love of Christ in their hearts. Ministers have 
 preached the Gospel for years, have had revivals in their 
 congregations, have been wise in winning souls and 
 yet have themselves been castaways in the end. Mem- 
 bers of churches have been zealous in every good 
 work, and active in every Christian duty and yet have 
 known nothing of godliness but the form. The very 
 commonness of this thing increases its sadness. It is 
 so very frequent that almost every exceptional case of 
 sincerity is deemed worthy of a biography. That there 
 are so many religious memoirs of persons remarkable 
 for nothing save their piety and earnestness, is a proof 
 how little we expect every professor of Christianity to 
 be a true Christian, and how greatly we are astonished 
 when the profession and the practice are in harmony. 
 We think the case of Moses leading the Israelites to 
 the Promised Land, while he himself was forbidden to 
 enter, peculiarly pathetic ; but its pathos is in reality 
 far less touching than the case of the man who brings 
 others to the fountain of life, while he himself is 
 perishing of thirst who is like a guide-post pointing 
 the way of salvation to others, while unable himself to 
 take a single step thereon. 
 
 Warned by such examples, let us seek in all our 
 
IX. ] THE A C TION OF PRESENCE. 2 1 1 
 
 efforts for the spiritual good of others, to be able to say 
 with the Apostle, " That which we have heard, which 
 we have seen with our eyes, and our hands have handled 
 of the word of life, declare we unto you, that ye also 
 may have fellowship with us." For though instances 
 have unquestionably occurred, in which signal beneficial 
 results have followed the preaching of the Gospel by 
 ungodly men, this is not the normal mode of Divine 
 procedure. It is personal experience of religion as 
 an inward life, a living power in the heart, that imparts 
 unction to active Christian effort that adds conviction 
 and power to testimony and commendation. He is 
 the man to say to others, " Oh, taste and see that God 
 is good," who has himself tasted, and from his own en- 
 joyment can say, " Blessed is the man that trusteth in 
 Him." And this seems to be the chief reason why men 
 and not angels are employed by God to carry on His 
 cause in the world. Angels have never known, as they 
 have never needed, redeeming grace. Having never 
 passed through our spiritual experience, they cannot 
 sympathise with our spiritual sorrows, or make their own 
 state an example and encouragement for us. And 
 therefore an angel visits Cornelius, but Peter must be 
 sent for "to speak to him words whereby he may be 
 saved." An angel does not himself descend to preach 
 the Gospel to the Ethiopian eunuch, but to commission 
 Philip to discharge that office. There is joy in heaven 
 in presence of the angels over repenting sinners, but it 
 is by men that God converts men Let us seek, then, to 
 be made first the subjects, and then the mediums 
 p 2 
 
212 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. ix. 
 
 grace. And for this purpose let us endeavour to have 
 such a character as will of itself communicate good so 
 luminous with grace that it will as naturally radiate good 
 as the sun radiates light. And such a character can only 
 be formed by a complete unreserved surrender of self 
 to Christ, to be made by His Spirit a new creature, the 
 image of His goodness ; and it can only be maintained 
 by living in Christ and for Christ by watching and 
 prayer, by fasting and self-denial, by the mortification 
 of easily besetting sins, and by keeping the appetites and 
 passions of the body in subjection. This is a painful 
 discipline, but a Power mightier than our own is with 
 us, to work in us all the good pleasure of God's goodness. 
 And the end is worthy of it all. To hear even one 
 soul saying to us, out of the great multitude which no 
 man can number around the Throne, that our general 
 Christian bearing, our consistent Christian uprightness 
 and devotion, had been the means, under God, of 
 saving him, will surely be a blessedness for which a 
 whole lifetime of self-denial would not be too great a 
 sacrifice. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 WINTER LEAVES. 
 
 " This one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and 
 reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward 
 the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ 
 Jesus." PHILIPPIANS iii. 13, 14. 
 
 INTER is called the leafless season. The boughs 
 of the trees are naked, and the herbage of the 
 fields is withered. The soft, green cushions of foliage 
 that in summer made every tree like its neighbour, have 
 disappeared, bringing out the individual shapes and the 
 fundamental peculiarities of the woodland. Nature 
 seems to lie at anchor in the harbour, with her sails 
 furled, and only her masts and rigging exposed to the 
 fury of the storm. And yet, amid this apparent uni- 
 versal death, the pulse of the earth has not ceased to 
 beat. Growth has not altogether stopped. Many 
 humble plants, such as mosses and lichens, which are 
 torpid in summer, now begin to vegetate, and come 
 into fruit. Even the trees themselves are not wholly 
 leafless. They have their winter as well as their summer 
 foliage. The barest tree, whose boughs make fit harp- 
 strings for the fierce music of the blast, still possesses 
 true characteristic leaves, although they are very incon- 
 spicuous, and would not be known as leaves except by 
 
'214 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 those who have learned that seeing is one of the fine 
 arts, and requires cultivation. Every one is familiar 
 with the buds which tip the extremities of every branch 
 in spring. These are the growing points of the tree, 
 and contain within themselves the leaves and blossoms 
 of the coming year in an embryonic state. On the 
 outside they are covered with dry, glossy scales, lying 
 together like the tiles of a roof or the plates of 
 a suit of armour. These scales are true leaves of 
 the very lowest type, altered from the normal form to 
 suit their altered purpose and circumstances, and may 
 be seen not unfrequently passing into ordinary green 
 leaves at a further stage of advancement. They are 
 formed in spring, and continue to grow during the whole 
 summer, though very slowly and imperceptibly, owing 
 to the diversion of the sap from them to the foliage, 
 behind which they are hid. As the season advances, 
 however, the sap gradually ceases to flow to the summer 
 leaves, which therefore ultimately fade and fall from the 
 tree; and the last movements of it, at the end of 
 autumn, before it becomes altogether stagnant, are 
 directed towards the buds, in order to mature and 
 prepare them for taking at the proper time the place 
 of the generation of leaves that has just perished. 
 
 During winter the scales, or outer leaves of the buds, 
 afford protection from the weather to the next year's 
 tender miniature leaves and flowers wrapped up within 
 them ; and for this purpose they are admirably adapted 
 by their construction. They have no pores to let 
 out the internal heat and to let in the external cold ; 
 
x.] WINTER LEAVES. 215 
 
 they are entirely destitute of that waxy substance called 
 chlorophyll, which forms the green colour of leaves ; 
 their usual hue being a dark brown or pale yellow. In 
 many instances they are more or less densely clothed 
 with a fine silky down, as in the beech and willow ; or 
 covered with glands, which exude a resinous gum, as in 
 the horse-chestnut. Richly furnished in this way, the 
 winter leaves, or bud-scales, effectually fulfil their pur- 
 pose throughout the winter months. But in spring, the 
 buds, stimulated by the unwonted sunshine, begin to 
 open at their sharp extremities. And as the young 
 green leaves within expand in the genial atmosphere, the 
 services of the bud-scales, or covering-leaves, are no 
 longer needed, and by and by they roll away, and fall 
 one by one from the tree, strewing the ground beneath 
 till it looks like a threshing-floor. Every one must 
 be familiar with the little heaps of brown withered 
 scales, lying at the foot of a beech or maple in April ; 
 these are the winter leaves that have fallen from these 
 trees. Thus every tree has a double leaf-fall every 
 year. The winter leaves, which are designed for 
 the protection of the bud during winter, are pushed 
 off by the growth of the summer leaves from the 
 bud in spring; and the summer leaves, which are de- 
 signed for the nourishment and growth of the tree 
 in summer, wither and fall off in autumn, owing to 
 the stagnation of the sap, and the maturing of the 
 winter leaves and their contents. Cold is fatal to the 
 summer leaves; warmth is fatal to the winter leaves. 
 Inactivitv renders useless the summer leaves; and growth 
 
2 1 6 THE MINIS TR Y OF NA TURE. [CHAP. 
 
 supersedes the winter leaves. The conditions suited to 
 the existence of the one kind, are entirely unsuited to the 
 existence of the other; and thus the Creator has wisely 
 ordained that by the fall of the leaf in spring, and the 
 fall of the leaf in autumn, by the alternation of summer 
 and winter leaves, and the offices which they both re- 
 spectively perform, the development of the tree should 
 be carried on during its term of life. 
 
 Scripture is full of allusions to trees and their various 
 parts and functions as symbols of man's life as repre- 
 sentatives in the natural fleeting world, not arbitrarily or 
 fancifully chosen, but absolute and real, of the unseen 
 and eternal realities of the heavenly kingdom. Even the 
 physical construction of a leaf exhibits the germ of the 
 idea, which was wrought out perfectly in the human body. 
 They are both formed upon the same principle, and the 
 plant in its structure evidently foreshadowed or prefigured 
 the coming animal. The central vein of the leaf, for 
 instance, represents the spinal column of man ; the side 
 veins of the leaf correspond with the ribs of the human 
 skeleton, and they both perform the same purposes of 
 strength and protection ; the multitude of delicate 
 vessels filled with sap, which ramify through the sub- 
 stance of the leaf, are exactly like the blood-vessels and 
 the nerves that carry the fluid of life throughout the 
 Carious parts of the body ; and lastly, over the whole 
 surface of the leaf, above and below, is spread a mem- 
 brane full of pores, which absorbs light, air, and moisture, 
 and enables the tree to carry on its functions, just as 
 over the whole body is spread an exquisitely organized 
 
X.] WINTER LEAVES. 217 
 
 skin, full of pores, which performs all the operations 
 needed for man's health. Thus, resembling each other 
 so closely, as far as the type of their physical construc- 
 tion is concerned, is it not reasonable to suppose that 
 there are spiritual analogies between them as close and 
 intimate that the leaf or the tree has qualities for the 
 imagination and the heart, for the mind and the soul, 
 eminently fitted to be useful and instructive if properly 
 understood? As Mrs. Browning says, 
 
 " A tree's mere firewood unless humanized ; 
 Which well the Greeks knew . . . 
 . . . For us, we are called to mark 
 A still more intimate humanity 
 In this inferior nature." 
 
 To one of the most beautiful and appropriate of these 
 analogies, I now wish to direct the attention of the reader. 
 Christ said, "I am the Vine, ye are the branches." 
 Every branch that is united to Him by faith, and is 
 partaker of His life, is tipped with buds of growth. 
 These buds are composed of the living germ that is to 
 form the future foliage and blossoms of Christian ex- 
 perience, and of those means of grace by which it is 
 nourished and protected until it is placed in circum- 
 stances in which it can expand and act independently. 
 In every growth of the soul there will be found two 
 elements one that is essential and permanent, like the 
 inner contents of the bud ; and one that is formative and 
 temporary, like the covering scales of the bud. They 
 both grow slowly together, and remain torpid together 
 during a season of spiritual coldness and inactivity ; but 
 
218 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 when a spring-time of revival and progress comes, the 
 formative and temporary element passes away, and the 
 essential and permanent element expands, and goes on 
 to perfection. St. Paul alludes to these two elements 
 of Christian growth, when he speaks of forgetting the 
 things that are behind, and reaching forth unto the things 
 which are before. The things that were behind were 
 the temporary winter leaves or bud-scales of his spiritual 
 life; the reaching forth unto those things which were 
 before was the vital essential germ of his spiritual life. 
 And in proportion as these winter leaves fell off, so in 
 proportion did the summer leaves which they enclosed 
 expand and grow ; in proportion as he forgot the things 
 that were behind, so in proportion did he reach forth 
 unto those things which were before. 
 
 The Apostle's life affords many striking illustrations 
 of this fact. In his unconverted state, there were many 
 things on which he prided himself the scenes and 
 associations of his youth, the eager sympathies of his 
 opening intellect, and his ardent affection for the polity 
 and religion of his fathers. He was "circumcised the 
 eighth day, of the stock of Israel, of the tribe of Ben- 
 jamin, an Hebrew of the Hebrews ; as touching the law, 
 a Pharisee ; concerning zeal, persecuting the church ; 
 touching the righteousness which is in the law, blame- 
 less." Add to these supereminent excellencies, when 
 measured by a Jewish standard, the fact of his Roman 
 citizenship, as a native of " no mean city," his thorough 
 Hebrew education at the feet of Gamaliel, and his 
 general culture as a student of Greek philosophy and 
 
X.] WINTER LEAVES. 219 
 
 Latin thought. Well might he congratulate himself 
 upon these possessions and acquirements, and boast, 
 " If any other man tbinketh that he hath whereof he 
 might trust in the flesh, I more." But all these natural 
 qualifications of the man belonged to the winter or 
 unregenerate state of his soul. They were winter leaves 
 that hid and confined the germ of spiritual life ; that 
 for a time overlay and hindered the Spirit's striving 
 and working within him. But although worthless as 
 grounds of justification in the sight of God, they had 
 their own value in training and fitting him for the posi- 
 tion which he afterwards occupied, and his work as the 
 great Apostle of the Gentiles. They subserved the same 
 purposes in the life of St. Paul which the bud-scales 
 or winter leaves perform in the economy of the bud. 
 They afforded protection and nourishment. All that he 
 had acquired in the schools of Tarsus and Jerusalem 
 was laid as a rich gift upon the altar of Christ, and 
 consecrated to His service. The modes of Jewish and 
 Greek thought became wider and clearer channels of 
 heavenly truth. His ardour as a persecutor made him 
 more ardent still as an Apostle. The same devotion 
 which impelled him to go to Damascus to vindicate the 
 Jewish faith, led him to preach the Gospel in the isles 
 of the Gentiles, and to the utmost limits of the known 
 world. The measure of his fierce zeal on the occasion 
 of Stephen's death, was the measure of that self-sacrificing 
 love which made him even wish that he himself were 
 accursed from Christ for his brethren's sake, his kinsmen 
 according to the flesh. And when the great crisis of 
 
220 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 his life came the spring-time of his conversion and 
 he was brought face to face with the glory and the love 
 of that Jesus whose way he sought to destroy blessed 
 airs from heaven blew around him, and a light exceeding 
 the brightness of the noonday sun shone upon him ; and 
 in this warm genial atmosphere of grace, the germ of 
 spiritual life unfolded itself within, and burst its wrap- 
 pings. Old forms ceased to have any hold upon his 
 affections and homage. He passed from Jewish bondage 
 to Christian liberty. He died to his former self and all 
 its experiences, and lived a new life in Jesus. Those 
 things that were gain to him before, he now counted loss 
 for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus. 
 Scales fell from his soul as well as from his eyes. The 
 winter-leaves of his natural possessions and attainments 
 having served their purpose of preparation, now dropped 
 off, and the summer leaves of grace the blossoms of 
 holiness, the fruits of righteousness had full liberty to 
 grow and develop themselves in the new world that 
 opened up before him. But we must not suppose that 
 the dropping, in the fulness of the new life awakened 
 in him, of those winter leaves that had been so beautiful 
 and precious to him, was without effort or pain. It 
 sometimes needs a severe gust of wind to shake off the 
 scales that still linger around the bud, although it has 
 expanded. And it was with a sore wrench that St. 
 Paul tore himself away from all his former cherished 
 associations. The three days which he spent at Damas- 
 cus, in which he was blind, and did neither eat nor drink, 
 afford a proof to us of the unspeakable mental anguish 
 
x.] WINTER LEAVES. 221 
 
 through which the transition between the old and the 
 new man took place. 
 
 But even in his converted state there were many 
 " things behind " which St. Paul required to forget. The 
 branch of a tree puts forth bud after bud in its gradual 
 growth and enlargement. The bud of this spring opens, 
 drops its winter leaves, and expands its summer leaves ; 
 these summer leaves, having by their agency added a 
 cubit to the stature of the branch, pass away ; and the 
 added growth in its turn puts forth a new bud covered 
 with its scales or winter leaves, which drop off the follow- 
 ing spring, and allow the imprisoned summer leaves 
 once more to unfold themselves in the sunny air. And 
 thus the process of growth goes on by an alternate 
 contraction and expansion, as it were by the life of the 
 branch being shut up in the bud in winter, and unfolded 
 in foliage and blossoms in summer. Winter leaves must 
 be formed at every stage of growth, in order that the 
 vital germ may be nourished and protected ; winter 
 leaves must be dropped at every stage of growth, in 
 order that the vital germ may develop itself into all the 
 visible glories of the tree. And so was it with St. Paul. 
 His spiritual life from the beginning to the end was a 
 series of fresh beginnings a continual going back and 
 undoing the past and commencing once more anew. Not 
 once merely at conversion, but often in his converted 
 state, had he to form and to drop the winter leaves of 
 the soul in the process of spiritual growth. There were 
 many things by which his spiritual life was nourished 
 and guarded that were helpful in forming his Christian 
 
222 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 character and carrying on the work of grace in his soul 
 which had to be blotted out of his thoughts and put into 
 the background, if he would go on to perfection. There 
 were outward things apparent to all such as his con- 
 suming and almost superhuman toil for upwards of 
 twenty years in the propagation of Christianity founding 
 church after church in the various centres of the world's 
 civilization ; the hardships and privations of his numerous 
 travels by sea and land, that all men might hear the 
 tidings of the Gospel ; the frequent persecutions and 
 sufferings which he endured for the sake of the truth 
 his self-denial in giving up all pleasure, honour, and am- 
 bition to the one hope of serving the Master whom he 
 loved; the disappointments and triumphs of that long 
 and chequered time which closed only when he became 
 a prisoner in Rome, and underwent the last brief agony on 
 the Ostian Road. There were inward and deeply personal 
 things beneath all this outward activity for others, 
 such as the conflicts, the failures, and successes of his own 
 spiritual history ; the " self-masteries by which, one after 
 another, each faculty and power of his soul was brought 
 into subjection to the will of God ;" the mortification of 
 sin, the crucifixion of self, the following after holiness. 
 All these outward and inward things were essential for 
 the time being to his spiritual welfare. Through these, 
 by the blessing of the Spirit, he attained to a most remark- 
 able degree of personal sanctification to a standing-place 
 in the Christian course so far above the ordinary level of 
 attainment, that imitation seems almost impossible. But 
 still, useful and indispensable as they might be, these 
 
WINTER LEAVES. 223 
 
 experiences were mere bud-scales winter leaves, which, 
 if retained and cherished, would hinder his upward and 
 onward growth. He reached forth unto those things 
 which were before. He craved for a higher ideal. "Not 
 as though I had already attained, or were already perfect ; 
 but this one thing I do I press toward the mark for 
 the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus ;" 
 this was his conviction, this was his resolve. To brood 
 over the failures of the irretrievable past would discourage 
 his hopes and paralyse his energies. To recall past 
 excellencies and labours would be to foster spiritual 
 pride and self-sufficiency. And therefore all those for- 
 mative processes those preparatory means of his growth 
 and advancement must be left behind fall off his spirit 
 as the winter leaves fall from off the expanded bud when 
 their work is done. Free and unfettered by the past, 
 untroubled by the sad memories of failure, unelated by 
 the remembrance of attainments already made, forgetting 
 the things that are behind, he must reach forth unto 
 those things which are before. 
 
 Are not the lessons of such a life very broad and 
 intelligible? We, too, are called upon to act in the 
 same spirit, and to follow, however feebly and remotely, 
 in the same footsteps. Forgetfulness of what was behind 
 was an essential element in the Christian progress -of St. 
 Paul. It is also an essential element in the progress of 
 every believer. In our conversion, we must separate our- 
 selves, like him, from the associations of our unregenerate 
 state, and count those things which were then gain to us 
 loss, in order that we may win Christ, and be found in Him. 
 
224 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 There must be a forgetfulness of the ungodly excellencies 
 that distinguished us in our careless days the natural 
 gifts and good deeds upon which we prided ourselves 
 the things that caused us to have confidence in the 
 flesh. These winter leaves must fall off, when the vernal 
 season of grace has come, and we who were dead in 
 trespasses and sins are made alive unto God. The 
 work of grace cannot be carried on in combination with 
 the affinities of our former habits, and the memories and 
 conditions of our former life. Scripture repeatedly en- 
 forces this truth under the image of buying and selling. 
 We cannot have the blessings of salvation without selling 
 all that we have in our possession and affections. In ex- 
 change for them there must be a letting go, not of former 
 faults and sins merely, but even of former excellencies. 
 And selling to Christ what we have, is just a foregoing 
 and forgetting of it so far as we are concerned. Such 
 good qualities as we displayed in our unconverted state, 
 and for which Jesus, looking on us, might love us, as He 
 did the rich young ruler, may, as in St. Paul's case, have 
 contributed to form our Christian character, and give it 
 its peculiar individual stamp and bias. But having done 
 so, they have answered their purpose, and are no longei 
 to be dwelt upon for self-valuation. They belonged to a 
 past stage of our history, with which we can now have 
 no spiritual sympathy. And therefore we must be sepa- 
 rated from them, and all old things must pass away and 
 all things become new. 
 
 But not at this initiatory stage merely is there to be 
 a discarding of the things that are behind. At every 
 
x.] WINTER LEAVES. 225 
 
 subsequent stage of our growth in grace there must be 
 the same winnowing process. We carry onward with us 
 in our spiritual progress the essential and the non- 
 essential that which is temporal and subsidiary, and that 
 which is to be paramount and abiding, encased within 
 each other as the kernel is in the husk, as the germ of 
 the bud is encased in its external scales or covering 
 leaves. By a course of prosperity our souls are made to 
 unfold in gratitude to God and beneficence to our fellow- 
 men. In a season of sorrow and suffering we are made 
 more heavenly-minded. But the means which produced 
 these desirable ends are not to be cherished as if they 
 were the end and not the means. We are not to be 
 proud of our prosperity, or to brood morbidly over our 
 adversity. Rather are we to keep them in the back- 
 ground, and to prize the character they have formed 
 more than the means of its formation. So, also, a state 
 of spiritual elevation may have greatly contributed to 
 advance the tone of our spirits and raise us above the 
 world; or a state of spiritual depression may have. shown 
 us our weakness and insufficiency, and thus made us 
 grow downward at the root in humility. Through the 
 enjoyment of peace in believing, or through dissatisfaction 
 with ourselves; through defeats and triumphs, failures 
 and successes, we have advanced nearer that perfection 
 which is our aim. For this result we are to glorify God, 
 but we are not to dwell with complacency upon the 
 means by which we arrived at it ; we are not to linger 
 fondly over, and boast to ourselves or others of, the 
 providential dispensations and the inward experiences, 
 
 Q 
 
226 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 through which we have reached our present stage of 
 advancement. These winter leaves that cherished and 
 nourished our growth in grace must drop off from time 
 to time, with each new attainment that we make, in 
 order that, untrammelled by the joys or the sorrows of 
 the past, our faith may be sanguine and active, and take 
 possession more and more of the unseen and unimagined 
 things which God hath prepared for them that love Him : 
 
 " That we may rise on stepping-stones 
 Of our dead selves to higher things." 
 
 But not the means of growth and formative processes 
 of the Christian character only, must be left behind and 
 forgotten \ the very ends, the growths themselves, must 
 also be superseded. In a certain sense each attainment 
 must be the bud-covering of a succeeding attainment, 
 and fall away when it is matured and unfolded. Each 
 new growth must prepare the way for another. There 
 must be a double leaf -fall from the soul as well as from 
 the tree. The summer leaves that are cherished must 
 drop off as well as the winter leaves that cherished them. 
 The foliage, the flower, the fruit itself are not the ends, 
 but the means, the stages of growth of the tree ; and 
 therefore they all fall away, one after another, in order 
 that the tree may grow on, and reach past them to its 
 ideal of perfection.* And so the summer foliage, the 
 
 * All nature is deciduous. The branch is sacrificed that the blos- 
 som may be produced ; the blossom falls that the fruit may be 
 formed ; the fruit drops off that the seed may grow. Man's body 
 itself is shed like a winter leaf, in order that the body of the resur- 
 rection may arise from its germs. We have a striking instance of 
 
x.] WINTER LEAVES. 227 
 
 beautiful blossoms of the soul, the very fruitage of grace, 
 must also be left behind, if the soul would grow and go 
 on to perfection. To be continually looking back upon 
 what has been done, to rest satisfied with our attain- 
 ments at any point, is to forego our glorious privilege, is 
 to check our development, and mix up much of self, and 
 sin, and the world with our pure and heavenly growth. 
 It is amazing how soon, when we cease to forget the 
 things that are behind and remain stationary, we de- 
 generate. Self-sufficiency and self-righteousness become 
 cunningly veiled in the disguises of our sanctity ; our 
 prayers and expectations become rooted in presump- 
 tion ; our works of beneficence are associated with 
 pride and vanity; the very ministry of Christ itself 
 becomes an occasion of self-indulgence. The means of 
 our growth become our ends, and they encase us with a 
 hard covering which is impervious to the tender influences 
 of heaven, and shut out the Spirit of God, and render an 
 after access of growth exceedingly difficult. Hence it is 
 never at any time good for us to rest upon the past 
 or the present to dwell with complacency upon our 
 experiences, our good qualities, our gifts of grace. We 
 may not plead that we have done much, for much is 
 
 onward growth, in the blossoms formed within the blossoms of our 
 common garden polyanthus, familiarly known as "hose in hose." 
 In the cowslip, the ordinary flower sometimes produces a stem which 
 bears upon its summit another cluster of flowers. This, which is a 
 monstrosity in our species, is the normal peculiarity of the Impe- 
 rial Primrose of the mountains of Java. This remarkable Alpine 
 plant produces several tiers of blossoms, one rising above the other 
 to the height of several feet, like a Chinese pagoda. 
 Q 2 
 
228 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 not enough, nay, is even prejudicial, as we have seen, if 
 we can do more. No growth can be carried on without 
 a discarding of the means of growth. The cotyledon 
 leaves of our nature must drop off, or give place to 
 the true leafy structures. At every stage, while some- 
 thing is acquired, something must be abandoned. While 
 the future expands, the past must contract. What is 
 most necessary to our growing sanctification and like- 
 ness to Christ through the means of grace, is ceasing to 
 depend upon these means of grace, and an honest con- 
 fession of the weakness and worthlessness of all our own 
 efforts. The future invites us with its endless capabilities 
 of progress. To the future, therefore, let us turn the 
 longings and endeavours of our souls ; and forgetting the 
 things that are behind the things through which and by 
 means of which we have advanced thus far dropping 
 the winter leaves of our past memories and experiences 
 let us reach forth unto the things which are before. 
 
 St. Paul exhorted the Hebrew Christians to leave the 
 principles of the doctrine of Christ, and to go on to 
 perfection. And truly such an exhortation is still greatly 
 needed. Very many believers stop short at the very initial 
 processes of grace, and imagine that these are the final 
 ends that nothing more can be desired or attained. Im- 
 puted sanctification is combined with imputed righteous- 
 ness, so that when a sinner is justified, he is supposed 
 without any change wrought in him to be sanctified 
 at the same time, and at once made holy and meet for 
 heaven. The whole spiritual history of the soul is so 
 contained and " epitomized in one act of sacrifice as to 
 
X.] WINTER LEAVES. 229 
 
 make further longings and efforts superfluous." Conver- 
 sion is the whole of salvation, not merely a renunciation 
 ! of the past, but an insurance of the future beyond risk 
 of forfeiture. Pardon and peace, through believing in 
 Christ, is all that they need obtain. Ignorant of the law, 
 that has no exception in the natural or spiritual world, 
 that life is never complete at first, they believe that they 
 are complete in Christ, and want nothing more to be 
 done in them or by them until they depart hence to a 
 better world. And thus they are perfectly satisfied with 
 their condition. They have attained their ideal. They 
 go backwards and forwards on the same spot, like a 
 door on its hinges, conning their first principles, spelling 
 their alphabet of grace, and making no progress what- 
 ever. They have a narrow and low idea of the Redeemer's 
 work, and, in consequence, lead a spiritual life that has 
 no enlargement and little enjoyment in it. Their sins 
 sit so easily upon them, that they do not lament them : 
 or if they are sorrowful, their sorrow is without resolute 
 effort at amendment ; is, in fact, an acquiescent self- 
 reproach, which reconciles the mind to the culpability 
 which it deplores. Surely it needs no argument to ex- 
 pose such a palpable and foolish error. It is as if the 
 embryo that began to germinate remained always in the 
 seed, instead of spreading out its roots past the first 
 source of its nourishment into the wide soil around. It 
 is as if the life of the tree always remained in the bud, 
 instead of casting off its wrappings, and expanding into 
 summer foliage, blossoms, and fruit. Conversion is, in- 
 deed, all-essential, for while the heart is unchanged and 
 
230 THE MINIS TR Y OF NA TURE. [CHAP. 
 
 the spirit unrenewed, there can be neither life nor 
 growth ; but it is merely the commencement of a course 
 that must be gradually pursued. Justification is in its 
 very nature perfect ; it is complete at once, and can 
 never make any advancement. Conversion, justification, 
 pardon, and peace in believing, these are the first prin- 
 ciples of the doctrine of Christ. Under the shelter of 
 these winter leaves of the spiritual life, the changes and 
 developments of sanctification are carried on. We are 
 justified, that we may be sanctified. We are restored to 
 the favour of God, that God's image may be restored in 
 us. We have the title to a divine life, in order that we 
 may have the principle and the enjoyment of it. And 
 therefore, these first principles of the doctrine of Christ 
 should open and give place to the advancing work of 
 grace, instead of hermetically sealing the soul and pre- 
 venting its growth. They are not, indeed, to be dropped 
 as mere bud-scales, as mere means to an end for they 
 are the basis upon which all the subsequent efforts of 
 the spiritual life are to be made. But just as in the 
 unfolding buds of the lilac and horse-chestnut tree, the 
 scales, or the covering leaves of winter, pass through 
 intermediate changes in the one into the blades of the 
 leaf, and in the other into the leaf-stalks so the prin- 
 ciples of the doctrine of Christ are to be carried on in 
 the growth, and their substance is to be used up and 
 modified, as it were, in the expansion of the soul. In 
 this sense the things that are behind are to be forgotten. 
 It is vain to tell the believer to forget the things that 
 are behind, to discard the preparatory means by which 
 
x.] WINTER LEAVES. 231 
 
 he advances in piety, by a mere temporary effort of will. 
 He cannot do so. By wishing and striving ever so 
 much, he cannot divest himself of what he has found 
 to be an encumbrance. It is only by growing, by 
 going on. to perfection, that he can get rid of the things 
 which are no longer essential, just as the child, by its 
 growth, forgets the milk of the babe, and the youth 
 forgets the sports of childhood, and the middle-aged 
 man outlives the dreams and illusions of his youth. 
 " When I was a child," says the Apostle, " I spake as a 
 child, I understood as a child ; but when I became a man, 
 I put away childish things." What the Christian cannot 
 remove, except by a violent destructive wrench, will fall 
 off easily and of its own accord, when superseded and ren 
 dered effete by growth. So long as he is torpid and 
 stationary, the things that are behind cleave to him, and 
 cover his spiritual life from sight and confine it within 
 the narrowest range shut it in from the blessed rains and 
 sunbeams of heaven, as the natural bud is shut in by its 
 scaly coverings when in its dormant state in winter. But 
 when a season of revival comes, and the captivity of the 
 soul is turned, then the vigorous growth that ensues 
 pushes off the former things, with which it remained con- 
 tent, and unfolds itself towards completeness in Christ. 
 Thus we see that to forget the things that are behind 
 effectually, the only method is to outgrow them. To 
 this growth and development we should be farther 
 stimulated by the consideration that a bud whose 
 growth is arrested becomes transformed into a thorn. 
 If our winter leaves the experiences that contribute to 
 
232 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 form our character, and which are appropriate to the 
 various stages of our growth be allowed to remain un- 
 changed and unforgotten, and to choke up our spiritual 
 life so as to arrest its advancement, they will be changed 
 into thorns. The peace that we trust in will vanish in 
 sorrow. The progress that makes us proud and self- 
 complacent will become a retrogression, and pierce us 
 through with shame. The attainment with which we 
 are satisfied becomes a thorn in the flesh, the messen- 
 ger of Satan to buffet us lest we be exalted above 
 measure. It is no unusual thing to see a branch of a 
 tree whose vital activity is so enfeebled that its growth 
 is arrested. Its terminal bud loses the power of throw- 
 ing off its winter leaves, because no summer leaves form 
 in its interior. The bud then dies, and the branch withers 
 and becomes fit for the burning. And so it is, alas ! no 
 unusual thing to see branches in Christ whose spiritual 
 life is so weak that their growth is at a standstill. They 
 lose the power of forgetting the things that are behind, 
 because they are not reaching forth unto those things 
 which are before. They are therefore in danger of perish- 
 ing. Only by growing can we be holy and happy able 
 at once to forget the things that are behind, and to reach 
 forth unto those things which are before. And for 
 constant, uninterrupted growth there is ample provision 
 in Zion. 
 
 There is a sense, indeed, in which we cannot forget 
 the things that are behind, strive as we may. The 
 winter leaves or bud-scales of a tree leave behind them, 
 when they drop off, a peculiar mark or scar on the 
 
x. WINTER LEA VES. 233 
 
 bark, just as the summer leaves do when they fall. 
 On every branch a series of these scars, in the shape 
 of rings closely set together, may be seen, indicating the 
 points where each growing shoot entered on the stage 
 of rest. And so every experience through which we 
 pass, every act we perform, goes into the very substance 
 of our being, and we can never be after it what we 
 were before it. We cannot undo our deeds, or alto- 
 gether escape the consequences that have followed 
 them. The past is indelible, and the memory of it 
 remains like a scar upon the soul.* Not more thickly 
 
 * Internally and externally there are marks on every tree, which 
 enable us to realize its exact vegetative condition during any one of 
 the previous years of its life. Cut a transverse section of an exoge- 
 nous tree, and you will find the record of every year that it has grown 
 faithfully preserved in the rings of the wood. The peculiarities of 
 every summer and winter that have passed over it, may be accurately 
 deciphered by one skilled in this kind of tree-palmistry. This large, 
 broad ring tells me that the summer was unusually wet ; this thin, 
 compact, and even ring indicates that the season in which it was 
 formed was very warm and bright ; and this other ring, rough and 
 scarred, alternately thin and broad, announces that the layer of tissue 
 was deposited amid storms of wind and rain, with alternate sunshine 
 and chill ungenial weather. The very fossil-tree, petrified into a hard 
 stone, and dug up from beneath hundreds of feet of solid rock, pre- 
 serves the most delicate of these cabalistic signs uninjured. Place a 
 thin transparent slice of the fossil-wood under the microscope, and 
 it not only shows at once that it formed part of a species of extinct 
 palm or pine-tree ; but it also reveals the kind of weather which 
 prevailed when it was green and flourishing thousands of ages ago 
 the transient sunshine and the passing shower, and the wayward 
 wind of long-forgotten summers. It is strange to see, even in our 
 common articles of furniture, the signs and memories of the green 
 forest life through which the timber passed in its growth many years 
 ago, and which the carpenter's tools and the roughest usage have 
 
234 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 is a branch covered with its annual sets of rings, in- 
 dicating the position of the winter leaves and the 
 terminal bud of each season, than is the soul covered 
 
 not been able to obliterate. A chair or a table whispers to us in this 
 way secrets more wonderful far than the so-called revelations of spi- 
 ritualism. It brings into our presence the fauns and dryads of the 
 woods, to converse with us regarding the mysteries of their lonely 
 haunts. It stands connected with the stars in their courses ; and 
 through the signs of its vegetable zodiac, the sun has passed as truly 
 as over its own path in the heavens. 
 
 But it is not in the interior of trees alone needing the aid of the 
 axe to lay them bare that we see the experiences of their past his- 
 tory. There are external as well as internal marks. We see very 
 conspicuously displayed on the twigs of the beech and the horse- 
 chestnut, for instance, scars, dots, or rings, which show where the 
 winter and summer leaves were united to the stem, and indicate the 
 age of the shoot on which they were produced. On a twig of the 
 horse-chestnut the summer leaves have left behind a large cicatrix, 
 shaped like a horseshoe, marked by several black dots like nails, being 
 the broken ends of-the bundles of woody fibre which, uniting together, 
 formed the leaf-stalk, and, separating again at its top, formed the 
 mid-rib of the leaflets. If the scar has five dots, we know that 
 there were five leaflets to each leaf ; if there are seven dots, then each 
 leaf had seven leaflets. Below this broad, open, horseshoe-like 
 cicatrix left by the summer foliage, occur the contracted ring-like 
 scars of the winter leaves ; and the number of the rings indicates the 
 number of the bud-scales or winter leaves. The interval between 
 two sets of these rings marks out a single year's growth ; and the 
 variations in its length during different years, indicates the varying 
 amount of active vitality displayed by the twig. If the interval is 
 short, there was little growth made that summer, owing to cold 
 ungenial weather ; if the interval is long, the twig grew rapidly 
 amid favourable circumstances. The number of leaf-scars in each 
 interval between two sets of rings, enables us to tell the exact number 
 of leaves that were put forth during that summer. If a twig has on 
 it, say ten sets of rings and ten scars, then we know that it is exactly 
 ten years old ; that it stopped growing ten times and produced ten 
 
x.] WINTER LEAVES. 235 
 
 with the impressions produced by the experiences ot 
 the past spiritual life. But though the things that are 
 behind cannot in this sense be forgotten, they should not 
 be allowed to hang around us like burdens which im- 
 pede or frustrate all our efforts at improvement. The 
 ghost-like memories of our sins should not be permitted 
 to haunt us, mocking our repentance as hypocritical, 
 and making our hearts sink down in self-contempt and 
 despair of renewing efforts so often defeated. As the 
 branch is not impeded in its development by its scars, 
 but carries them on in its growth, so the Christian's 
 progress in grace should not be hindered by the memo- 
 ries that are indelible, the deeds that are irrevocable. 
 Out of his past experience he is to gather what will be 
 of use to him in his future course a better knowledge 
 of himself, of his weak points and besetting sins, a firmer 
 faith in God and a humbler walk with Christ ; and all 
 the rest is to be forgotten. He is to remember the 
 failures of the past in order to magnify the mercy that 
 forgave. He is to remember former seasons of spiritual 
 
 generations of winter leaves, and again commenced growing ten times 
 and produced ten generations of summer leaves ; while the peculiar 
 appearances presented by these sets of marks, place in a moment 
 before our eyes the exact history of the twig during its whole past 
 life, the amount and the date of the growth it made, the number 
 of the leaves engaged in its construction, the character of the weather 
 to which it was exposed, and the nature of the circumstances in 
 which it was placed. These hieroglyphics of nature are as significant 
 as regards the peculiar variable history of each branch of a tree, as 
 the cuneiform inscriptions on the palaces of Nineveh are significant 
 of the life of the ancient people who inhabited them. Nothing 
 thus perishes without leaving a record of it behind. 
 
236 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 activity and fervour for his encouragement, and that 
 he may be reminded of what he was if he should sink 
 into a state of declension. "Remember whence thou 
 art fallen, and repent, and do the first works." 
 
 Taking a comprehensive view of the universe, we 
 find that everything has a special object to perform, and 
 when that object is accomplished the agency perishes. 
 The material system of nature, with all its wonderful 
 and beneficent physical arrangements, is intended to be 
 the abode of man, to minister to his wants, and to 
 develop and educate his mental and moral powers; 
 and when that purpose is accomplished, the prediction 
 of the Apostle will be fulfilled " The elements shall 
 melt with fervent heat, and the whole earth and all 
 the works therein shall be burnt up." Life on earth is 
 not an end, but a means a state of discipline and 
 preparation for something higher and nobler beyond, 
 and is therefore transitory in its duration. It has a 
 deeper spring than the ordinary sources of pleasure 
 or pain, a wider scope than the round of common 
 duties, a loftier purpose than the efforts to procure 
 a brief and petty subsistence. It has more reality than 
 toil, more recompense than wealth or fame or enjoy- 
 ment. All the circumstances of this world are winter 
 leaves, nourishing and protecting the bud of immor- 
 tality, and destined, when that bud is unfolded in 
 the eternal spring, to fall off and perish. So, too, 
 the means of grace are the scaffolding by the aid 
 of which the spiritual life is built up, and will be 
 removed as a deformity when the building is com- 
 
X.] WINTER LEAVES. 237 
 
 pleted. Forms of church government, human ordinances, 
 and those intellectual labours which are employed in 
 their establishment and defence, are adapted only to 
 a state of imperfection, to the condition of individuals 
 preparing for a higher existence ; and, so far from 
 being ultimate objects, are only instruments and 
 agencies, to be discarded when their purposes are 
 accomplished. " Whether there be prophecies, they 
 shall fail ; whether there be tongues, they shall cease ; 
 whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away. 
 For we know in part, and we prophesy in part. But 
 when that which is perfect is come, then that which 
 is in part shall be done away." Everything that is 
 purely subordinate and distinctive in religion everything 
 that is extraneous to the spiritual nature, however 
 necessary to educate it everything that bears the 
 stamp of man's weakness, ignorance, or sinfulness, will 
 vanish as the winter leaves of time from the expanding 
 bud of everlasting life ; and out of the wrecks of earth 
 only a living faith in the atoning Saviour, the hope that 
 maketh not ashamed, and the charity which is the bond 
 of perfectness, will escape. "And now abideth faith, 
 hope, charity, these three." 
 
 It is through loss that all gain in this world is made. 
 The winter leaves must fall that the summer leaves may 
 grow. But in heaven a different law of development 
 will prevail. In the trees of warm climates the buds 
 have no winter leaves or protective scales, being simply 
 formed of the ordinary leaves rolled up ; consequently 
 they expand in growth without losing anything. And 
 
238 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 so it will be in the eternal summer above. There will 
 be a constant unfolding of the fulness of immortal life 
 from glory to glory ; but there will be no loss of the 
 processes and experiences through which the unfolding 
 will take place. The means and the end will be one 
 and the same. There will be a constant reaching forth 
 unto those things which are before, but there will be 
 no forgetting the things that are behind. 
 
X.] A GRAVE BESIDE A STREAM. 239 
 
 A GRAVE BESIDE A STREAM. 
 
 For the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall 
 lead them unto living fountains of waters : and God shall wipe away all 
 tears from their eyes." REV. vii. 17. 
 
 How strange the union of the stream and grave ! 
 
 Eternal motion and eternal rest ; 
 Earth's billow fixed, beside the transient wave 
 Upon the water's breast. 
 
 The summer cloud upon the height distils 
 
 Each sunny ripple hurrying swiftly past ; 
 And man's proud life, like fleeting vapour, fills 
 This wave of earth at last. 
 
 The streamlet, through the churchyard's solemn calm, 
 
 Sounds like an ancient prophet's voice of faith, 
 Chanting beside the grave a glorious psalm 
 Of life in midst of death. 
 
 The living water and the burial mound 
 
 Proclaim in parable, that through death's sleep 
 Flows on for aye, though none may hear its sound, 
 Life's river still and deep. 
 
 The grave like Laban's "heap of witness " seems, 
 Raised 'twixt the sleeper and the world's alarm, 
 O'er which no anxious cares or evil dreams 
 May pass to do him harm. 
 
 No more he wrestles by the brook of life ; 
 
 The night is past the Angel stands revealed ; 
 He now enjoys the blessing wrung from strife, 
 And every wound is healed. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 LIGHT IN DARKNESS. 
 " And the light shineth iu darkness." JOHN i. 5. 
 
 HTHE use of light is to illumine or reveal. Without 
 light there can be no vision. The eye and the 
 light are so wonderfully adapted to each other, that by 
 their mutual co-operation we are enabled to see. When 
 complete darkness envelopes the earth, we see neither 
 the shape nor the colour of any object. All within the 
 horizon is reduced to one uniform blackness and empti- 
 ness. On the contrary, when the sun rises and pours 
 his universal daylight over the world, a beauteous scene 
 of varied forms and harmonious colours is created, as it 
 were, out of the seeming void. Colour is the flower of 
 light, and has no existence apart from light; and form 
 and outline can only be distinguished when traced out 
 for us by the same luminous pencil. And yet, para- 
 doxical as it may seem, light conceals as well as reveals. 
 Extremes meet here, and excess of light blinds as much 
 as excess of darkness. At mid-day the unprotected eye 
 cannot gaze upon the sun ; when it attempts to do so for 
 the shortest period, it sees nothing in the dazzling radi- 
 
CHAP. XL] LIGHT IN DARKNESS. 241 
 
 ance, and on turning to other objects a filmy cloud for a 
 while interposes and obscures the vision. When the sun- 
 light is concentrated in its full effulgence upon an object, 
 its hue and shape are lost in a uniform white glare ; 
 when the vivid summer noon broods over the landscape, 
 its varied details are rendered vague and indistinct in a 
 dim haze of light. Many objects are entirely hid from 
 us by light. The stars are shining at noon as truly as at 
 midnight, but the veil of light conceals them from our 
 view. The phosphorescence of the sea is as fully dis- 
 played in the day as in the night, though we do not 
 see it. The fires that are burning constantly upon the 
 volcano-peaks the Vesta-altars of the earth have their 
 splendour paled by the sunlight. It needs the tender 
 twilight to bring out the exquisite brilliancy of the even- 
 ing star ; and the midnight gloom of winter to show the 
 illimitable spaces beyond the sun, and to cover the sky 
 with the glories of Orion and the Pleiades, of Arcturus 
 and his sons. It needs the sable curtains of darkness to 
 fall, ere the pillar of lurid cloud that ascends all day from 
 Vesuvius becomes a pillar of fire, lighting up the firma- 
 ment with its crimson glow. It needs the solar lamp to 
 be extinguished and the theatre of nature darkened, to 
 show to us the tropic sea in some measure as St. John 
 saw the mystic sea before the throne a sea of glass, as 
 it were, mingled with fire. 
 
 Light cannot be seen in light. The more luminous over- 
 powers or extinguishes the feebler. We cannot see the 
 light of a candle if we hold it up against the sun ; and 
 the recently discovered lime or Drummond light, whose 
 
 R 
 
242 7 HE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP- 
 
 brilliancy is such that few eyes can stand its dazzling 
 glare, becomes as black as a coal when placed between us 
 and the full sunlight. It needs the background of dark- 
 ness to bring out light. Darkness and light, shade and 
 sunshine, together make vision. Were it all light we 
 \^ could not see, any more than we should if it were all 
 dark ; and the face of nature without its shading like a 
 Chinese painting would be featureless. (The body of 
 the sun itself, the great source of light, is dark and non- 
 luminous ; changing spots of greater or less dimensions 
 appear on its glowing disc, and show its opaque inner 
 constitution, / And from this interior atmosphere of dark- 
 ness radiate the heat and light that vivify the planets of 
 our system. This solar light, too, passes through spaces 
 of intensest darkness and coldness, without sensibly 
 affecting them, in order to reach our atmosphere and 
 illumine our world. And finally, every ray of solar light 
 that comes to us passes through the transparent medium 
 of the retina, and on its way to the brain is absorbed in 
 a black membrane that lines the inside of the back part 
 of the eye. This black membrane, from its perfect opa- 
 city, not only completely absorbs the rays of light, but 
 darkens the interior of the eye, and so prevents indis- 
 tinctness of vision through the straying of the rays of 
 light. In this little darkened chamber of the eye, the 
 world within and the world without hold their twilight 
 tryst, and reveal to each other by means of light the 
 secrets of the universe. Thus, the light of the sun comes 
 from its own interior darkness, passes through the dark- 
 ness of space on its way to us, and finally penetrates 
 
xi.] LIGHT IN DARKNESS. 243 
 
 through the darkness of the eye to the audience-chamber 
 of the soul, there to be transformed into intellectual light. 
 Truly the solar light shineth in darkness ; and we see all 
 physical things through a glass darkly. 
 
 Passing upwards from a lower to a higher platform of 
 thought, we find that as it is in regard to material light, 
 so it is in regard to spiritual light. It too shineth in 
 darkness. The Apostle John spoke in his Gospel of 
 our Saviour under the beautiful emblem of " the light of 
 the world." He it is that brightens and beautifies 
 every earthly object j that reveals the unseen and the 
 unknown, whose words and works enlighten not only 
 mankind, but the whole universe. He is Himself the 
 essential attribute of spiritual health and life and pro- 
 gress. His life is the light of men ; and without Him is 
 death. But it needed the darkness of sin the strange 
 awful shadow of evil which crept from the abyss over 
 the world when man fell to bring out the full brightness 
 and beauty of that heavenly light. It was sin that 
 brought God down to man in the incarnation of His 
 Son. He who dwelleth in light which is inaccessible 
 and full of glory, whom no man hath seen or can see, 
 becomes visible in Jesus, the express image of His per- 
 son, through the darkness of man's ruin. Had man 
 not sinned, there would have been much in God which 
 Adam, in his state of innocence, never would have 
 known. I dare not say that Adam's knowledge of God 
 was inferior to ours, but it was a different kind of know- 
 ledge ; he had not that special manifestation which was 
 destined for fallen humanity alone. Nay, more ; had man 
 R 2 
 
244 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 not sinned, there would have been much in God which 
 even the angels would never have discovered. These 
 pure and holy beings could not see God owing to the 
 light which their own love and adoration threw around 
 Him. They veiled their faces with their wings in all 
 their approaches to Him. But the manifold wisdom of 
 God is made known to these bright principalities of 
 heaven through the fall and restoration of man. They 
 desire to look into the things that concern the salvation 
 of the human race, in order that in them they may see 
 reflected the knowledge of God's glory, which they could 
 not obtain by a direct study of His attributes. 
 
 It needed the black background of man's guilt to 
 bring out in all their glory for the admiration of the uni- 
 verse the wonders of redeeming love. We know that 
 God is merciful and just and good, but it is sin that has 
 given to us the blessed knowledge. His more abounding 
 grace is made known in the midst of our abounding ini- 
 quity. His love that passeth knowledge is gauged by the 
 standard that He so loved the world as to give His only- 
 begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him might 
 not perish, but have everlasting life. Our own sad expe- 
 rience has given to us clearer insight into the perfections 
 of His nature, and enabled us in fuller measure to un- 
 derstand the deep thoughts of the Infinite Mind. Just 
 as the dark and vaporous layers of the atmosphere in- 
 vesting our earth at sunset, by absorbing and decomposing 
 the rays of light, deprive the sun of his dazzling fierce- 
 ness, and fill the western sky with crimson hues ; so the 
 dark moral vapours that have risen from our earth in the 
 
XI.] LIGHT IN DARKNESS. 245 
 
 sunset of our race, by modifying sand softening the cha- 
 racter of God's revelation of Himself, have brought out 
 new excellences in His nature, and filled the horizon of 
 our faith with glowing colours of love before unknown. 
 It is true that all that the Fall disclosed was eternally in 
 His character, that not a trace has been added to His 
 personal glories by the work of. -redemption. But these 
 pre-existent glories have been tangibly expressed and 
 produced in real evidence before us ; these otherwise 
 inaccessible perfections have been poured out into the 
 world's bosom, and opened up even to our sight, in the 
 shadow of our sin. And through the mild softness of 
 the Shechinah cloud, in which, in condescension to our 
 weakness and sinfulness, He now wraps Himself, we can 
 gaze undazzled into the innermost centre of the sapphire 
 light, and behold at the burning core of the uncreated 
 glory, upon which none before could look and live, a 
 heart beating with love and tenderness to man God 
 in Christ reconciling a guilty world unto Himself, not 
 imputing unto men their trespasses. 
 
 When the Evangelist says that the light shineth in 
 darkness, he appears to refer primarily to the period of 
 our Saviour's appearance on earth. That was a peculiarly 
 dark era in human history. All the ages previous to the 
 Incarnation were dark ages, times of shadow and type, in 
 which men were groping blindly after heavenly truth, if 
 haply they might find it. But the age of Jesus surpassed 
 them all in the wide extent of its sorrow and the poig- 
 nancy of its suffering. Just as, in the period immediately 
 anterior to the Flood, human wickedness had reached its 
 
246 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 highest pitch and was fully ripe for destruction ; so, in 
 the period of our Saviour's appearance, human wretched- 
 ness had attained its maximum, and was calling loudly 
 for deliverance. Fearfully dark is the picture of the 
 times which St. Paul draws, as it were in Indian ink, all 
 shade and no sunshine. The peace which prevailed in 
 the vast Roman empire was the peace of exhaustion, not 
 of contentment. Social life was corrupt to the very core ; 
 and such thought as existed was the mere iridescence 
 that shone on the seething fetid waters of licentiousness 
 and infidelity. Life stained by reckless passion, blunted 
 by vicious excess, wearied itself out in its vain restless 
 search after happiness, so that suicide was openly recom- 
 mended by the wisest counsellors as the best mode of 
 ending the fitful fever. Never was the need of a Saviour 
 more keenly felt than when the midnight heavens over 
 Bethlehem fit symbol of the dark and awful sin of the 
 age were illumined with the Vision of angels, and the 
 glad tidings of " Glory to God in the highest, peace on 
 earth, and good-will to all mankind," sounded in the ears 
 of the watching shepherds. The True Light shone in- 
 deed in deepest darkness, and the signs of the coming 
 salvation appeared with brighter lustre because of the 
 universal gloom. 
 
 And as that incarnate Light moved in its short earthly 
 orbit, how softly and beautifully its rays shone amid the 
 twilight shadows ! The clouds of suffering that rose 
 before it, transfused by its radiance, showed their silver 
 lining. Blindness opened its long-sealed eyes, and saw 
 at one and the same sublime moment the beauty of earth 
 
XL] LIGHT IN DARKNESS. 247 
 
 and the glory of heaven. Even death became a sleep 
 from which the weary one rose strengthened and re- 
 freshed. Sunless hearts were thawed by His rays, and 
 a new life of light and love was generated in them. The 
 tainted air was sweetened by His breath ; and His touch 
 diffused a healing virtue through all the bitter springs of 
 nature. Evil of every shape and hue cast its baleful 
 shadow on His path only to vanish in the Light of His 
 presence. Yes ! that meek and lowly Light, that did not 
 cry, nor lift up nor cause His voice to be heard in the 
 street, amid the splendour of human pride and the 
 haunts of wealth and pleasure was pale and unheeded, 
 like a hydrogen flame in daylight; but in the presence 
 of human want and woe it shone forth in wonderful 
 brightness and power, like that flame of hydrogen when 
 burning on a piece of lime at night. Gleams of the in- 
 dwelling brightness shone through the earthly veil, when 
 suffering the shadow of sin was near. The God in- 
 carnate, concealed from the wise and the prudent, from 
 the prosperous and self-sufficient, was revealed through 
 the meekness of His mortal guise to the simple and 
 the weak, to the mourner and the child. Then, too, 
 when the man in Him was most conspicuous, the God 
 was also most conspicuous. His divinity shone brightest 
 when His humanity appeared most perfect. Over the 
 manger of His humiliation shone the star of His glory ; 
 the poverty and meanness of His birth were counter- 
 balanced by the grandeur and power of His words and 
 works, and the rejection of men, by the vision of angels. 
 It was He who thirsted by the well of Sychar. that could 
 
248 THE MINIS 'TR Y OF NA TURE. |CH A p. 
 
 give living water, of which, if a man drink, he shall thirst 
 no more. It was the weary worn-out sleeper in the boat 
 on Galilee who, when roused from His pillow, bade the 
 winds and the waves be still. It was the dying Jesus, 
 nailed helplessly to the cross, numbered among the trans- 
 gressors, and despised and rejected of men, who said to 
 the penitent thief by His side, " To-day shalt thou be 
 with me in Paradise." The Light was indeed seen to be 
 very God, when it was seen to be very man. And when 
 at last, blazing brightly for a moment on the Mount of 
 Transfiguration, that Light descended into and passed 
 on its lonely way within the awful shadows of the dark 
 valley, what sunset glories does it disclose ! Brighter and 
 more beautiful does it become as the dark clouds prevail 
 against it, and it is about to disappear below the horizon. 
 The flaring torches of the robber- band amid the midnight 
 olives of Gethsemane, reveal to us a scene of unparalleled 
 suffering, and yet of noblest self-sacrifice. In that hour 
 and power of darkness we have a whole heaven of love 
 lit up, into whose starry depths unfathomable we gaze, 
 overwhelmed with wonder and awe. 
 
 And then think of the eclipse of that Light in death 
 When are astronomers enabled most thoroughly to study 
 the sun ? Not when his meridian splendour is dazzling 
 their eyes and covering the secrets of his nature with a 
 veil of insufferable glory. It is when the dark disc of 
 the moon entirely covers his face, and there is a total 
 eclipse. During such a crisis, phenomena are observed 
 which cannot be seen at any other time, and a detailed 
 account of them would fill volumes. Glimpses are then 
 
XL] LIGHT IN DARKNESS. 249 
 
 given of his constitution the materials of his surface 
 the depth and nature of his atmospheres. His physical 
 history, so far as it can be known to us. is disclosed by 
 the peculiar signs which then appear. Now, as it is with 
 the natural sun, so it is with the Sun of Righteousness. 
 During the awful eclipse of His death, when He passed ' 
 under the mysterious shadow which falls upon all men 
 during the darkness that overspread the land for the last 
 three hours that He hung upon the cross, and which was 
 the outward symbol to the spectators of the extremity of 
 loneliness and sorrow which He endured, we have a dis- 
 play of His love and grace such as we receive not from 
 all His words and works besides. His greatness and 
 goodness culminate in that eclipse. That life, which is 
 the most beautiful and perfect cf lives, expands into 
 blossom on the cross. All the excellences of His life 
 are there sublimated to the highest degree, and converge, 
 as it were, into a single focus beneath a single glance. 
 The light that shines amid the piofound darkness of 
 Calvary,, brings out into full relief all the features and 
 extent of His teaching and example, and vivifies and 
 makes them the power and the wisdom of God unto 
 salvation. The perfect fulness of His trust in God is 
 most strikingly disclosed amid the very horrors of the 
 spiritual darkness amid the awful sense of divine aban- 
 donment that overwhelmed Him. The same cry "My 
 God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?" which 
 proclaimed the extremity of His trial, witnessed to the 
 greatness of His faith and the perfection of His inno- 
 cence. The burden of darkness lay upon Him apparently 
 
250 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 unrelieved to the very close ; He sank out of life under 
 the pressure without one ray of heavenly comfort to cheer 
 Him and yet, with His last breath, He commits Him- 
 self into the keeping of Him by whom He had felt 
 Himself forsaken " Father, into Thy hands I commend 
 My spirit." Where else can we see faith and patience, 
 and trust in God and love to men, and holy innocence, 
 so signally displayed as here ? And when we think, too, 
 of the light shed on the work of redemption by the dark- 
 ness of the cross, how are our ideas of God's holiness 
 and mercy exalted ; how are our convictions of man's 
 sinfulness and necessity deepened ! We see the evil and 
 desperateness of man's sin in a way that we could never 
 otherwise have seen it We know the greatness of man's 
 primitive excellence and dignity, and the estimation in 
 which he was held by Heaven, when even God Himself 
 consented to die for him. We are reminded of the true 
 loftiness of man's nature, a nature worthy of pardon and 
 redemption, worthy to be the object of immeasurable 
 love. When the Just thus suffered for the unjust, and 
 our Brother born exhibited all that man has ever con- 
 ceived but never realized of self-sacrifice and purity, of 
 faith and love, we are shown what man may become ; and 
 can look forward with hope to the day of restoration that 
 shall place redeemed man above angels and archangels 
 nearest the throne. 
 
 And as thus with the true Light of the world, so with 
 every lesser light that He kindles to be a revelation of 
 Himself it shineth in darkness. This is pre-eminently 
 true of the Church. Its light is beautifully symbolized 
 
XL] LIGHT IN DARKNESS. 2 5 1 
 
 by the seven-branched candlestick which stood in the 
 holy place of the Levitical tabernacle. That holy place 
 was the pattern of the Church on earth, just as the Holy 
 of Holies was the pattern of the Church in heaven. The 
 common garish light of day was excluded by the cover- 
 ings of goats' hair and badgers' skins ; and a profound 
 darkness created within. In this mystical darkness the 
 perfumed light of the golden candlestick shone unceasingly, 
 as a token that the light of the Church is not the light 
 of nature, but the light of grace ; that, dark itself, it is 
 illuminated solely by the spiritual light which the Lord of 
 the Church supplies. It was the duty of Aaron to trim 
 this candlestick and supply it with the needful oil, and 
 keep its golden stem and branches bright, and its lamps 
 perpetually burning. We see in imagination the high 
 priest, in his gorgeous dress, moving about among the 
 lamps that dimly illuminated the darkness of the place ; 
 "and we see in that ghostly earthly vision the type of the 
 glorious heavenly vision which appeared to the seer in 
 Patmos, of a greater than Aaron moving about among 
 the seven golden candlesticks of the Christian Church, 
 feeding them with the oil of grace, and causing them 
 to burn with brighter radiance. And as the light of 
 Christ thus shines in the darkness of the Church, so the 
 Church thus enlightened shines in the darkness of the 
 world. " Ye are the light of the world," He said to 
 that inner circle of disciples the immediate satellites 
 that revolved around Him and bathed in His effulgence. 
 God's people are lights shining in a dark place lamps 
 in a sepulchre. His servants are stars. The seven stars 
 
252 THE MINISTRY OP NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 which He holds in His right hand are the angels of the 
 Churches. The candlestick and the star are both 
 images of the night. And these two figures may be 
 regarded as emblematic of the two dispensations the 
 Jewish and the Christian : the candlestick, symbol of an 
 artificial dispensation of type's and shadows destined soon 
 to burn out and be extinguished ; the star, symbol of 
 eternal realities shining serenely amid the glooms of this 
 world, and destined to shine most brightly when the 
 shadows of all temporal things have passed away. In 
 both cases the light shone, the light shineth in darkness. 
 No other light has a dark, guilty world, but this reflected 
 light from heaven. The Church collectively, and the 
 Church as represented by each believer, is the bearer of 
 Christ's transmitted light, not in daylight, but in midnight 
 gloom. Not having light of its own, it is to diffuse through 
 the dense misty atmosphere of sin the blessed light 
 which it receives from Him. It is to dispel the spiritual 
 blindness and gross ignorance of perishing souls, and 
 bring them to the saving knowledge of Christ What a 
 high and sacred office this is, to hold forth the Word of 
 life to those whom the god of this world hath blinded ! 
 How careful should each believer be who has this sacred 
 light entrusted to him, not to hide it under the bushel 
 of busy worldliness, or under the bed of carnal sloth ! It 
 may be a mere glowworm spark, but it is inconceivably 
 precious, just because it shineth in darkness. In the day- 
 light other light is not needed, and may therefore be ex- 
 tinguished without loss or regret ; but in the night there 
 is nothing to compensate for the loss of any light that is 
 
XL] LIGHT IN DARKNESS. 253 
 
 put out. Suppose you had penetrated into the farthest 
 depths of an intricate many-chambered cavern, far from 
 the light of day, and that all the torches you had brought 
 with you to dispel the gloom had one by one expired, 
 leaving you with only a single torch half-burnt in your 
 hand, how carefully you would carry it, knowing that 
 upon its continuing to burn and shed its light upon your 
 path, depended your hope of reaching the upper world 
 of light and life. In like manner, every believer in the 
 cave-like darkness in which he dwells, should guard and 
 tend the light that has been given to him by God to be 
 the light of his feet and the lamp of his path, to lead 
 him and all whom he can influence from the outer dark- 
 ness of the world to the marvellous light of heaven. It 
 the light in thee be dark, how great is the darkness ! 
 There are no means to dispel it. In the Church and in 
 the believer the light shineth in darkness ; and if it be 
 extinguished, all is lost. It is a total eclipse within and 
 without, a blackness of darkness for ever. 
 
 My subject is capable of endless applications. Our 
 eyes see visions when they are shut. The feeling that has 
 withdrawn from the exquisitely sensitive surface of the 
 eye in the blind, is concentrated in the ringer tips and 
 in the ear ; nay, the whole body becomes one eye ; and 
 the air acts in place of the light as a medium of commu- 
 nication with the outer world. Intellectual light shineth 
 in darkness. The mind becomes phosphorescent at 
 night. What was smoke at noon becomes flame at mid- 
 night. Passion awakes, and the imagination becomes 
 more vivid and active when the material world is 
 
 DBITBRSIT; 
 
254 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 wrapped in gloom. When the light of perception is 
 extinguished, the light of meditation gleams brighter in 
 the vacant shadow. It is the law of mind that vividness 
 of sensation and clearness of perception exist always in 
 an inverse ratio. Vision, which is the clearest of our 
 modes of objective perception, is ordinarily attended 
 with scarcely any subjective feeling ; and hence we shut 
 our eyes when we wish to think clearly and feel strongly ; 
 and hence, too, the reason why the darkness appeals so 
 forcibly to the passive sensibility. As Jean Paul says, 
 " The earth is every day overspread with the veil of 
 night, for the same reason that the cages of birds are 
 darkened, so that we may the more readily apprehend 
 the higher harmonies of ^thought in the hush and stillness 
 of darkness." Then, too, the light of -knowledge implies 
 the darkness of ignorance ; and the wider the circle of 
 light spreads around us, at just so many more points 
 does it touch the surrounding darkness, so that we are 
 thus constantly taught the limit of our powers, and kept 
 humble and reverential. The light upon the great pro- 
 blems of the soul and of man's destiny which the heathen 
 enjoyed was like the feeble light of a moonless night, 
 when the stars are few and faint. It was a vague, wide, 
 general conjecture, which did not oppress the heart or lie 
 heavy upon the life. It was free from the distressing 
 doubts which in these days constitute the peculiar trial 
 of many of the best and most thoughtful minds. But 
 Christianity, while it has brought life and immortality to 
 light. while it has disclosed to us things which it con- 
 cerns us most of all to know has nevertheless filled the 
 
XL] LIGHT IN DARKNESS. 25$ 
 
 horizon with profounder darkness than before. The fore- 
 ground is illuminated, but the background is enveloped 
 in deeper mystery. The Word of God is, indeed, the 
 light of our feet and the lamp of our path. But just as 
 a lantern makes the night darker all around, while it casts 
 a strong light upon the objects at our feet, so the Gospel 
 of Christ makes the secret things which belong to the 
 Lord our God more inscrutable while the things that are 
 revealed and that belong unto us and to our children that 
 we may do all the words of God's law, are rendered plainer 
 and easier of comprehension. It suggests difficulties even 
 by its clearest doctrines, and casts dark shadows of spe- 
 culation from its brightest revelations of grace and truth. 
 We need to pray, " Send Thy light forth and Thy truth ; " 
 for Scripture truth has no significance to us without this 
 heavenly illumination. It is like a dial, with all its divi- 
 sions and lines perfect, yet revealing nothing of the times 
 and the seasons which God hath kept in His own power, 
 except when the Sun of Righteousness shines upon it, 
 and even by its very shadows brings out light, enables 
 us to discern the signs of the times, and to know the day 
 'of our merciful visitation. 
 
 Religious doubt that is, not a final but a transitional 
 state, not an end but a means; when, as Sir William 
 Hamilton says, " we doubt once in order that we may 
 believe always, renounce authority that we may follow 
 reason, surrender opinion that we may obtain knowledge " 
 is light shining in darkness the birth-pangs of clearer 
 light. It is better in one sense, no doubt, to grow in 
 knowledge by quick steady increase of light, without any 
 
256 TH-E MINISTRY OP NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 intervals of darkness. But most thoughtful men increase 
 in faith and spiritual discernment by often doubting, and 
 by having their doubts cleared up. Religious thought in 
 this way grows into a personal feeling and the solid 
 rock of truer conviction and deeper trust, as a firm 
 foundation for the soul to build upon for eternity, re- 
 mains behind after all the abrasion of loose and more 
 perishable materials through speculation. A different if 
 not a truer revelation of heavenly realities is given to us 
 through the dark distressing process of doubting, than 
 through the bright joyful exercise of unhesitating faith ; 
 just as our knowledge of the chemistry of the sun and 
 stars, of the physical constitution of distant worlds, is 
 derived not from the bright bands of their spectrum, 
 which reveal only their size and shape, but from Fraun- 
 hofer's wonderful lines those black blank spaces breaking 
 up the spectrum bands which tell us of rays arrested 
 in their path and prevented from bearing their message 
 to us by particular metallic vapours. Unto the upright, 
 just because of the purity and singleness of their motives 
 and the earnestness of their quest after truth, there 
 ariseth light in the darkness. We must remember that 
 light is sown for the righteous \ that its more or less rapid 
 germination and development depend upon the nature 
 of the soil on which it falls and the circumstances that 
 influence it ; that, like seed, it at first lies concealed in 
 the dark furrow, under the cheerless clod, in the cold 
 ungenial winter; but that even then, while shining in 
 the d-arkness, while struggling with doubts and difficul- 
 ties of the mind and heart, it is nevertheless the source 
 
XL] LIGHT IN DARKNESS. 257 
 
 of much comfort, and in its slow quickening and hidden 
 growth the cause of lively hope, and of bright antici- 
 pation of that time when it shall blossom and ripen in 
 the summer-time of heaven shine more and more unto 
 the perfect day. 
 
 The light of comfort shines in the darkness of sorrow. 
 To use a homely illustration, a towel when wetted 
 becomes darker than before, but at the same time it 
 becomes more transparent. In quitting one medium 
 for another the air for water its power of reflecting 
 light is diminished, but its power of absorbing light is 
 increased, so that the darkness of the towel is due to 
 its increased transparency. This is the case, too, with 
 such minerals as tabasheer and hydrophane, a variety of 
 opal, and also with table-salt and snow, which are opaque 
 when dry, but when immersed in water become trans- 
 parent. Thus it is with sanctified trial. When passing 
 from the element of joy into the element of sorrow, life 
 is darkened ; but it is made more transparent than 
 before. It does not reflect so much gladness, but it 
 allows us to see deeper into its true nature. When deep 
 calleth unto deep, and all God's billows pass over us, 
 our souls may be very gloomy and sad ; but we have an 
 inner light, a deeper peace, that clears away all obscurity 
 from our character, and gives distinctness and beauty to 
 our piety. By the gracious compensation of Heaven, 
 the loss of reflection becomes a gain of absorption. The 
 sunshine that we cannot reflect in joy is imbibed into 
 the very being of the soul, and becomes part of its rich 
 Christian store. And thus it is always. God changes 
 
 s 
 
258 THE MINISTRY OP NATURE. [CHAP 
 
 the medium in which we live as our condition requires 
 it, in order that we may have in the one element wnat 
 we lack in the other that for self-manifestation we may 
 have self-knowledge, and for the loss of comfort and 
 happiness may have true insight and enlarged experi- 
 ence. Now He places us in the air of prosperity, that 
 we may improve its advantages in the way of gratitude 
 to God and beneficence to our fellow-creatures. Anon 
 He pours the floods of adversity over us, in order that 
 our gaze may be turned inwardly upon ourselves, and 
 we may discover our true characters, and see things as 
 they really are in their moral relations. It is the law 
 of celestial optics that, amid the gloom and desolation 
 of earthly scenes, the cross of Christ shall shine forth 
 with new and surpassing glory. It is in the dark valley, 
 and accompanying our friends on the last sad journey, 
 that God shows us the path of life. It is down in the 
 dark grave, where our bereaved hearts lie with them, 
 that we see stars of promise which the noonday of joy 
 hides from others. When a lower light is put out, a 
 higher light appears in the darkness thus created. When 
 the earthly lamp is broken and extinguished, the Sun of 
 Righteousness arises upon us with healing in His wings. 
 When the common daylight of the world fades away, 
 the mystical daylight of other worlds glitters in the twilight 
 sky. To the weary outcast Jacob, the vision of Bethel 
 appears. The light of home had vanished in the black- 
 ness of his own base guilt ; the light of hope itself had 
 almost expired in the dark consequences of that guilt ; 
 the night was his curtain, the earth his bed, and a stone 
 
XL] LIGHT IN DARKNESS. 259 
 
 his pillow \ but through his troubled sleep he saw and 
 heard what encouraged him to the last moment of his life. 
 And to every Nathanael whose heart God is purifying by 
 drawing over it the veil of sorrow, it is promised that he 
 shall see the heavens opened and the angels of God 
 ascending and descending upon the Son of man 
 ascending with his tears and prayers to the throne of 
 grace, and descending with comforting blessings to his 
 heart along the new and living way, the golden ladder 
 of Christ's sympathy and sacrifice. 
 
 All light shineth hi darkness ! The one is the com- 
 plement of the other. There is no light without its 
 sister shadow, and no shadow without its sister light. 
 The visibility of shadow is the evidence of light. 
 Evil is the correlate of good. It needs the darkness of 
 hell to define the outlines of heaven ; fear to define hope ; 
 disease, health ; misery, happiness ; guilt, holiness. No 
 physical object, and no moral truth or experience, can 
 have an outline without its corresponding darkness. If 
 seen in its own light, it is all light, and therefore has no 
 precise shape or form. Strange thought, that which 
 darkened the universe contributed most to its light ! Sin 
 under the training of the Spirit turns to such regrets and 
 penitences that it becomes an element in the soul's 
 education, through which it struggles to greater purity 
 and sanctity than it could have attained to, untempted 
 and unfallen. All things that seem to be against us, 
 under the transforming influence of grace work together 
 for our good ; and Adam's fall is a moral recoil by means 
 of which we rise ultimately to a far better paradise than 
 
 S 2 
 
260 THE MINISTR Y OF NA TURE. [CHAP. 
 
 that which he lost. In short, no poetry, no art, no philo- 
 sophy, no religion such as we know it, could exist if the 
 cloud of sorrow, and the shadow of sin, and the night of 
 death were not thrown over the world, if the light did 
 not shine in darkness. 
 
 Our great epic poet called night " eldest 01 things ;" 
 and darkness was represented by the ancient poets as the 
 " mother of all things." It is not light first and then 
 darkness ; but light comes out of darkness the morn- 
 ing out of the womb of night. The Bible narrative of 
 the creation opens with the announcement that " darkness 
 was upon the face of the deep " and the first creative 
 fiat was, "Let there be light;" while the serial creations 
 are described as beginning with darkness and terminating 
 with light; "and the -evening and the morning were the 
 first day," &c. Such also is the order of the cosmogony 
 of every nation the order acknowledged by all the poets. 
 Goethe calls Mephistopheles in Faust, " Ein Theil der 
 Finsterniss die sich das Licht gebar " part of the darkness 
 which brought forth light. And this natural order sym- 
 bolizes the spiritual order. The night of ignorance pre- 
 cedes the dawn of knowledge; "weeping may endure 
 for a night, but joy cometh in the morning." It is at 
 midnight that the song of the angels announcing the 
 Nativity is heard ; it is at midnight that the cry announ- 
 cing the second coming of Jesus startles the darkness. 
 " Behold the Bridegroom cometh ; go ye forth to meet 
 Him." In the evenings and mornings of the natural 
 creation are pictured the evenings and mornings in the 
 progress of the new creation of God in the soul. What 
 
XL] LIGHT IN DARKNESS. 261 
 
 are all the times and the seasons of earth but watches of 
 the night preceding the everlasting dawn ; the evening 
 of earth and the morning of heaven making the one 
 day of eternity. We cannot but believe that the hours 
 which in this shadowy dispensation are marked by the 
 circling of the stars and the opening and closing of the 
 flowers, have something corresponding to them in the 
 world of eternal realities, even although we afe told that 
 there shall be no night there ; and that the inhabitants 
 need no candle, neither light of the sun. These hours 
 are outward types of inward spiritual states ; and there- 
 fore the Lord, who is the light of heaven, will repro- 
 duce them there. All darkness will vanish, and yet 
 there will be a rainbow round about the Throne, and 
 the brightened memory of earth's gloom will add to the 
 beauty of heaven. The times and the seasons of glory 
 will be caused directly, no more by creature means, but 
 by that Sun that shall no more go down, and that Moon 
 that shall no more withdraw itself; only the sun shall 
 no more light on us, nor any heat, and the darkness of 
 night shall lose all its terror and loneliness, and bring 
 with it only its solemn tenderness and its holy rest 
 
 " For we have also our evening and our morn. 
 ****** 
 
 The face of brightest heaven had changed 
 To grateful twilight (for night comes not there 
 In darker veil), and roseate hues disposed 
 All but the unsleeping eyes of God to rest." 
 
 But though the light shineth in darkness, the darkness 
 does not always comprehend it. How little true faith 
 is there on the earth ! Where the lamp of knowledge 
 burns most brightly, there the darkness of scepticism is 
 
262 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 densest. Those who feel themselves to be, in the beautiful 
 language of the poet, infants crying in the night, infants 
 crying for the light, and with no language but a cry, 
 too frequently are insensible to the little light that does 
 break in upon their sorrow and ignorance. Men of 
 science are satisfied with a blank universal negative in- 
 stead of religion, are content to live and die in a cold 
 orphaned spiritual darkness, instead of echoing the noble 
 cry of the old heathen hero to the gods, " En de phaei 
 kai oksson " " In light destroy us," willing even to perish, 
 if it were only in light. In how many simple souls 
 the interfering rays of light from different creeds, all 
 professing to come from heaven, destroy each other, and 
 produce an utter blackness of darkness ! In how many 
 sensitive minds, as in the negative picture of the photo- 
 grapher, the very lights of truth have left a darkened im- 
 pression, and become shadows ! Multitudes love darkness 
 rather than the light, because their deeds are evil. Spi- 
 ritual light is to them an ungenial, unwelcome element, 
 as the natural light is to the foul crawling reptiles that 
 hide themselves from the sunshine under stones or 
 rubbish-heaps. And, alas ! how numerous are those who 
 have never been .taught any portion of the truth about 
 God, and Christ, and heaven, and right and wrong, at 
 all; who have no thought beyond the present world 
 and the needs of earth, and who prove to us by the con- 
 trast of the darkness and vileness of their lives what we 
 owe to light and knowledge, how much of God's goodness 
 is wrapped up even in our worldly civilization. The rays 
 of the sun at night pass over our dark heads, and we do 
 not recognize them to be sunshine until we see them 
 
XI.] LIGHT IN DARKNESS. 263 
 
 reflected in the face of the moon. So the rays of Christ's 
 glorious light are shining in darkness, passing over the 
 dark ignorant heads of thousands upon thousands, and are 
 only seen to be light and life when reflected back in the 
 faces of the faithful, believing few. The gross darkness of 
 the people comprehends not these heavenly rays ; they 
 find nothing in them, no spiritual susceptibility against 
 which to strike back into brightness. 
 
 The law of the natural world is here also the law of 
 the spiritual. Natural light requires a medium, if it is to 
 have any effect upon the darkness. Those ethereal 
 vibrations that come to us from the sun, can only be 
 diffused with warming and illuminating power when they 
 come into contact with our atmosphere. In the vast 
 spaces beyond, the profound darkness comprehends them 
 not, because they have no atmosphere to reflect them. 
 Were there no atmosphere, the illumination of our earth 
 would be most fragmentary and imperfect, even though 
 the sun shone brightly. No objects would be visible 
 except those on which the solar rays fell directly ; and 
 around these brightened surfaces there would be 
 Egyptian darkness. The varied beauty of the land- 
 scape would vanish, and the azure tint of the sky would 
 disappear in an inky blackness in which the stars would 
 shine brightly at mid-day. As it is, we see how small 
 is the power of the sun's rays to illumine at great eleva- 
 tions, owing to the rarity of the air. Every traveller is 
 familiar with the peculiar darkness of the noonday sky at 
 lofty elevations on the Alps and Andes. The eye can 
 look on the rayless sun in the deep violet ether without 
 
264 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE, 
 
 being dazzled, and the scenery beheld in this nameless, 
 eclipse-like light looks indescribably wild and unearthly. 
 Now, so it is with the True Light of the world. It needs 
 the medium of faith to make it visible to us; it needs 
 the atmosphere of believing, trusting love to make it 
 illumine our souls and fill them with the beauties of 
 holiness. In proportion to the greatness of faith is the 
 illuminating power of this Light. Souls deep down in 
 self-abasement on account of sin may have much light, 
 because they have much faith, may hear Christ's words, 
 " Great is thy faith : be it unto thee even as thou wilt." 
 While souls exalted to heaven, like Chorazin and Beth- 
 saida, by reason of their privileges, may yet, on account 
 of the absence of faith, be covered with perpetual snow, 
 and overarched with hopeless darkness, cast down into 
 hell. All men have not faith; therefore all men have not 
 light. Let our prayer be, " Lord, increase our faith," 
 that thus we may have a powerful reflecting and refract- 
 ing medium, by means of which the light that shineth in 
 darkness may be comprehended by our darkness, and 
 may warm and illumine and vivify us more and more. 
 In this dark world of probation let us stretch out the 
 tendrils of our soul's longings and affections towards the 
 bright and the morning Star, let us grow and blossom to 
 the coming dawn. As children of the light, let us walk 
 in the light while we have it in the light of Christ's 
 Word to direct us, in the light of His example to guide 
 us, in the light of His approving smile to comfort us 
 until at last, all darkness vanished, all shadows passed 
 away, in His own everlasting light we see light clearly. 
 
XL] A WATERFALL. 265 
 
 A WATERFALL. 
 
 " When them passest through the waters, I will be with thee ; and through the 
 rivers, they shall not overflow thee." ISAIAH xliii. 
 
 BESIDE a lofty waterfall I've stood, 
 
 Formed by a torrent from a mountain height, 
 
 And gazed far up to where the foaming flood 
 Burst from the sky-line on my awe- struck sight. 
 
 So vast its volume, and so fierce its shock, 
 
 No power at first its headlong course might stay ; 
 
 It seemed as if the everlasting rock 
 Before its furious onset would give way. 
 
 But as it fell, it lingered in mid-air, 
 
 And melted into lace-like wreaths of mist, 
 
 Decked by the sun with rainbow colours fair, 
 And swayed by passing breezes as they'd list. 
 
 And when at last it reached the dimpled pool, 
 
 Hid in its granite basin far below, 
 Its spray fell softly as the showers that cool 
 
 The sultry languor of the summer glow. 
 
 The aspen-leaf scarce quivered to its sound, 
 The bluebell smiled beneath its benison ; 
 
 And all the verdure of the forest round 
 A fresher greenness from its baptism won. 
 
 So have I watched for coming sorrows dread, 
 With heavy heart for many a weary day, 
 
 Foreboding that the torrent overhead 
 
 Would bear me with o'erflowing flood away. 
 
 But when the threatened evil came, I found 
 That God was better than my foolish fears ; 
 
 The furious flood fell gently to the ground, 
 
 And blessed my soul with dew of grateful tears. 
 
 God mingles mercy with each judgment stern, 
 Brings goodness out of things we evil see ; 
 
 Then let us from our past experience learn, 
 That as our day our promised strength shall be 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 SEEING AND NOT PERCEIVING. 
 "That seeing they may see, and not perceive." MARK iv. 12. 
 
 *T^HERE is a small round spot in the human eye, 
 about the twentieth of an inch in diameter, and of 
 a decidedly yellow colour, called, after its discoverer, 
 the yellow spot of Sommering. Situated in the exact 
 optical axis of the eye, and being more transparent than 
 the rest of the retina, it has long been recognized as the 
 seat of most perfect vision in man. Its precise use, 
 however, is still somewhat doubtful. Some eminent 
 physiologists are of opinion that it performs the same 
 part in human vision which a yellow medium performs 
 in photography. It is well known that in the sunshine 
 there are three different constituents light, heat, and 
 the chemical or actinic rays which produce a photo- 
 graphic image on a prepared surface. A sunbeam pass- 
 ing through a yellow medium transmits its light and heat 
 rays, but its chemical or actinic power is intercepted ; 
 so that a room glazed with yellow glass will be flooded 
 with brilliant light and feel oppressively warm, while the 
 
CH. XIL] SEEING AND NOT PERCEIVING. 267 
 
 sensitive plate of the photographer, which in other cir- 
 cumstances would blacken at once on the least contact 
 with the sunshine, may be exposed there for weeks with- 
 out the slightest change. Unless, therefore, the yellow 
 spot of the eye differs from all other transparent yellow 
 media known to us, its use may be to arrest and extin- 
 guish the chemical rays of the sunlight, which in all 
 likelihood would prove injurious. We know indeed that 
 even minerals are susceptible of actinic change, and that 
 if the rays of the sun shone uninterruptedly upon a 
 granite pillar or a bronze statue, it would perish under 
 the delicate touch of this most subtle agency, indepen- 
 dently of all other influences. It is reasonable, there- 
 fore, to suppose that the actinism of the sunlight would 
 produce a destructive effect upon the tender tissues of 
 the retina and the brain behind, if allowed to reach 
 them. Thus, He who has so marvellously constructed 
 the human eye, and adjusted it to the sunlight and the 
 various requirements of man, has put this small yellow 
 spot in its axis, in all probability, that the innocent rays 
 of light and heat may pass through in order to produce 
 vision, but that the destroying chemical rays may be 
 kept out 
 
 Employing this interesting fact in natural history, as 
 an analogy in supernatural history, it may be said that 
 in the spiritual eye there is often a similar yellow spot, 
 which prevents the full influences of spiritual light from 
 reaching the soul. The analogy, however, is not in all 
 respects applicable; for, in the bodily eye, the yellow 
 spot is a wise provision of nature ; whereas in the 
 
268 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP 
 
 spiritual eye it is a defect caused by sin. To the bocily 
 eye the ray of natural light which the yellow spot keeps 
 out would be injurious ; whereas to the spiritual eye the 
 ray of spiritual light which the yellow spot keeps out 
 would be the most beneficial of all. Still, so far as the 
 one point of its power in excluding a certain constituent 
 of the light is concerned, the yellow spot furnishes a 
 good illustration of what blinds the soul to the truth of 
 God, and in this aspect I shall consider it. 
 
 In the sunshine of the heavenly world, just as in the 
 sunshine of the earthly, there are three constituents. 
 Every ray of spiritual light may be said to contain three 
 ingredients knowledge, emotion, and impression cor- 
 responding to the light, heat, and chemical power of the 
 sunbeam. Faith, which is the vision of the soul, implies 
 three things intellectual knowledge of the truth, an 
 emotion produced by the truth, and a cordial reception of 
 the truth ; or, in simpler words, knowledge, belief, trust. 
 The Apostle sums up these three elements of faith in his 
 address to the Romans : " How, then, shall they call on 
 Him in whom they have not believed ? And how shall 
 they believe in Him of whom they have not heard? 
 And how shall they hear without a preacher ? " It is 
 possible to have one of these elements of faith without 
 the others. A man may be ever learning, and yet never 
 able to come to the knowledge of the truth. He may 
 hear the Gospel, and yet not believe it ; he may believe 
 the Gospel, and yet not call upon the name of the Lord. 
 The whole system of Christianity may be comprehended, 
 as perfectly as any scheme of science or philosophy, and 
 
xii.] SEEING AND NOT PERCEIVING: 269 
 
 yet there may be no actual belief in its divine origin or 
 saving efficacy. In these days of universal inquiry, when 
 scepticism is so prevalent and self-asserting, we see 
 numerous instances uf knowledge without belief. For 
 every thoughtful mind there is a deep interest in the mere 
 form, plan, and character of the sacred writings a 
 literary and intellectual interest; and hence we see 
 scholars studying the Bible as they would do a book 
 of science or philosophy investigating all its truths and 
 relations on critical and philological grounds, classifying 
 and arranging them, exploring the antiquities of Nineveh 
 and Egypt, and the animal and vegetable productions of 
 Palestine, in order to shed light upon every allusion in 
 it ; while all the time the main function of Scripture has 
 been forgotten. It has been regarded as an end, and 
 not as a means, leading to the personal Christ, whom it 
 reveals. What is arrogantly called "the higher criti- 
 cism " has eliminated from it the whole spiritual element, 
 for the sake of which it exists. Everything that appeals 
 to the conscience the love, the faith, the will of man 
 as a spiritual being has been excluded by this destruc- 
 tive process, and only that left which appeals to the mere 
 intellect of the natural man. This is a sad state of 
 things; but it is a sadder thing still, in the sight of 
 Heaven, to see men convinced of the divine origin and 
 inspiration of Scripture, acknowledging the importance 
 of those central and eternal verities which are inde- 
 pendent of the minuter questions of criticism, deeply 
 impressed with the moral beauty of the Gospel and its 
 fitness for unfolding the spiritual life of man, and yet 
 
270 THE MINISTRY OP NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 coming short in their own experience of its great end 
 neglecting the great salvation which it reveals. There is 
 also a traditionary belief of the Gospel, which may 
 always be expected to prevail in those places where it 
 is preached ; and though this can produce nothing 
 but a customary profession, it is too often mistaken for 
 that living faith which changes the heart and sancti- 
 fies the life. Very many take it for granted that they 
 believe the Gospel, if they have no better reason than 
 this, that they never called in question the truth of any 
 of its doctrines, and have often been deeply impressed 
 by its beauty and power. Thus men may know the 
 truth, and yet not be savingly affected by it ; they may 
 have light without heat and renewing power. 
 
 They may go further, and have not only knowledge, 
 but belief of the truth, not only light, but heat ; and yet 
 be ignorant of what is the most essential of all, the 
 saving, transforming influence of the truth. The preach- 
 ing of the Gospel produces a powerful impression upon 
 them. The entrance of the Word not only gives light to 
 the understanding, but creates a glow of emotion within 
 the heart. The judgment is not only convinced, but 
 the feelings are roused. A Felix trembles when a Paul 
 preaches of judgment and eternity ; an Agrippa is so 
 deeply moved by the personal appeal of the truth that 
 he is almost persuaded to be a Christian. We have 
 known persons profoundly affected by a sermon upon 
 the Saviour's self-sacrificing love. And yet nothing came 
 of it. All this emotion was worse than wasted ; fo% 
 failing to produce an abiding change, it petrified the 
 
xii.] SEEING AND NOT PERCEIVING. 271 
 
 heart. We attach undue value to mere emotion in reli- 
 gion. We imagine tears to be a proof that the whole 
 nature is stirred to its depths. It may be so, but 
 not necessarily. The rain that falls with a loud noise 
 speedily runs off and disappears but the snow, that 
 falls silently, remains and accumulates. And so the 
 emotion that is demonstrative quickly vanishes, while 
 the quiet inward sorrow of soul broods over its loss. 
 The sensibilities may be moved while the heart is un- 
 changed, and the inner nature cold as the ice beneath 
 the prismatic hues of the Northern lights. Every ob- 
 server of human nature has noticed that weak, shallow 
 natures, which are ready to shed tears on the most 
 trifling occasion, are nevertheless often the most stub- 
 born of will and the most callous of heart. And hence 
 the beautiful verisimilitude of the parable that represents 
 the seed sown on stony ground as springing rapidly up 
 and withering as rapidly away. 
 
 Thus it will be seen that we may have the two ele- 
 ments of faith, the two constituents of spiritual vision, 
 and yet not have the third and most important of all. 
 We may have the light of knowledge and the heat of 
 emotion, and yet want the actinism or chemical power of 
 the spiritual world. It is by this actinism of faith alone 
 that a deep and lasting impression is produced upon 
 our whole nature. It renews the heart j it transforms 
 the life. It makes us new creatures in Christ. Just as 
 the actinism of the natural sunshine produces a por- 
 trait upon the photographer's plate, so does the saving 
 power of faith produce the image of God in the soul. 
 
272 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAR 
 
 Beholding His glory as in a glass, we are changed into 
 the same image from glory to glory, even as by the 
 Spirit of God. It is for this purpose that the Gospel is 
 preached. Only for the sake of this salvation does the 
 testimony of the Saviour exist. Not merely to create 
 a literary or intellectual interest, or to excite the emo- 
 tions, were the Sacred Writings given. "These are 
 written," says St. John at the close of his Gospel, " that 
 ye might believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son 
 of God ; and that believing ye might have life through 
 His name." 
 
 When the disciples asked Jesus for an explanation of 
 the parable of the sower, He replied, " Unto you it is 
 given to know the mysteries of the kingdom of God ; 
 but unto them that are without all these things are done 
 in parables, that seeing they may see and not perceive." 
 Some have supposed from these words, that our Saviour 
 veiled His meaning in the parabolic form for the very 
 purpose of preventing His hearers from understanding 
 it. Each parable was like the pillar of cloud a light to 
 the disciples, but darkness to others. It is surely un- 
 necessary to say that nothing could have been more 
 opposed to the character and mission of Jesus than such 
 a design. There was no eclecticism, no esoteric mystery 
 in His teaching. He had nothing in common with those 
 philosophers who initiated a favoured few into the 
 secrets of their theories, while the multitude were baffled 
 by the abstruse and mysterious forms in which they were 
 veiled. It was the glory and the grace of His Gospel 
 that to the poor it was preached, that the common 
 
xii.] SEEING AND NOT PERCEIVING. 273 
 
 people heard him gladly. Every truth which He pro- 
 claimed concerned the whole human race every human 
 being more than even daily bread. And, therefore, He 
 spoke in parables for the very purpose of making spiritual 
 truth plainer to the comprehension of the dull and igno- 
 rant Galilean peasants. He came down to the level of 
 their own earthly things. He made use of the objects 
 of nature around them, the things of their daily life, 
 to teach them the mysteries of heaven. And when He 
 told them to what the kingdom which He attested by 
 His miracles might be likened, the least they could do 
 was to ask for a solution, to inquire into the nature of 
 the resemblance. The disciples and a few other superior 
 spirits had their curiosity excited by these parables. They 
 felt that there were important truths hidden behind them, 
 and they wished to have light shed on them by Jesus. 
 They had that interest in the things of the kingdom, and 
 that spiritual susceptibility, which were necessary to re- 
 ceive and understand them ; and, therefore, Christ said, 
 "Unto you it is given to know the mysteries of the 
 kingdom." They obtained a solution, not because they 
 were friends, but because they were inquirers ; sight was 
 given to them because they were willing to see. But the 
 rest of the multitude had no such spiritual susceptibility. 
 They went away uninterested and unimpressed. Their 
 dull, carnal minds had not been excited by the parable ; 
 they felt no curiosity to know its meaning ; they did not 
 come to Jesus to have its spiritual significance explained. 
 And therefore Christ said, " But unto them that are with- 
 out these things ar-e done in parables, that seeing they 
 
 T 
 
274 7 HE M1NISTR Y OF NA TURE. [CHAP. 
 
 may see and not perceive." The judicial blindness that 
 was in-flicted upon them was owing to their own perverse- 
 ness and unbelief. The kingdom had come to them in 
 a peculiarly interesting pictorial form, had been brought 
 down to the level of the humblest intellect by means of 
 homely and familiar images ; and if in this form it failed 
 to produce any impression upon them, their case was 
 hopeless no abstract teaching would have a chance of 
 succeeding. If they understood not the truth when 
 shining through the transparent medium of earthly things, 
 how could they be expected to understand it when veiled 
 in the exceeding glory of heavenly things ? No simpler 
 method of instruction than these illustrations could be 
 devised ; and therefore there was no alternative but to 
 leave them as before to their self-chosen blindness and 
 ignorance. 
 
 To us, too, Jesus speaks in parables. He condescends 
 to the humblest intellect. It has pleased Him to clothe 
 His Gospel in the simplest form. It is brought near 
 to every man's business, heart, and home. It uses the 
 vocabulary of the field, the market, and the household. 
 It employs every man's occupation the things that are 
 most familiar and interesting to him as illustrations of 
 spiritual truth. Why is it, then, that it produces so little 
 impression upon us that, seeing its all-important'truth, 
 we nevertheless do not perceive it ? It is not more light, 
 more knowledge that we need. We are in possession of 
 the clearest and fullest information upon everything which 
 it is essential to our spiritual well-being to know. Divine 
 truth shines in every part of the Gospel message with a 
 
XIL] SEEING AND NOT PERCEIVING. 275 
 
 brilliancy which at once penetrates and reproves us. The 
 Bible, for the purpose for which it was intended, is the 
 easiest book that ever was written. The way of life has 
 been made so plain that the wayfaring man, though a 
 fool, cannot err therein, The momentous question, 
 "What must I do to be saved?" has been answered 
 once for all in one simple sentence so simple that 
 nothing but wilful blindness can ever more misunderstand 
 it " Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be 
 saved." What is it, then, that prevents us from per- 
 ceiving when thus seeing we see ? What is it that stands 
 in the way of a saving impression being produced upon 
 our souls by the Gospel ? 
 
 In explaining this strange anomaly, let me revert to the 
 opening illustration. I showed that the yellow spot in 
 the eye, while it lets in the light and heat of the sun- 
 shine, keeps out the chemical power which would 
 modify the tissues of the eye and brain. I showed that, 
 in a room glazed with yellow glass, the photographer 
 would get heat and light from the sunshine, but he could 
 not produce a photograph, because yellow glass, while 
 it lets in the light and heat of the sun, keeps out the 
 chemical or actinic ray necessary to produce a portrait. 
 And so it is true of many of us, that while we live in 
 the free light and warmth of the Gospel day, while the 
 true Light which lighteth every man that cometh into the 
 world shines upon and all around us, we are not savingly 
 changed, we are not transformed by the light into the 
 image of God. And the reason of this is that we have 
 a yellow spot in our spiritual eye, and live as it .were in a 
 
 T 2 
 
276 THE MINISTR Y OF NA TURE. [CHAP. 
 
 house of yellow glass. We get the light and heat of the 
 Gospel, but not its renewing power. Our eye is not 
 single, and therefore our whole body is not full of light. 
 The medium in which we live and move and have our 
 being is unfavourable to spiritual impressions, and there- 
 fore we are not spiritually impressed. 
 
 One of the most effectual preventives of spiritual im- 
 pressions is covetousness, or the lust of the eye. The golden 
 atmosphere of the world hinders the soul from perceiving 
 the truths which it sees and knows. A life devoted to 
 the things of time and sense can never comprehend the 
 things of the Spirit, which eye hath not seen nor ear 
 heard, and which are spiritually discerned. There is a 
 peculiar substance called santonine, formed of the leaves 
 and seeds of several species of Artemisia or wormwood, 
 which produces, when a decoction of it is drunk, the 
 strange phenomenon of coloured vision. All light or white 
 objects are seen of a most brilliant yellow hue. So is it 
 when a man has drunk deep of the world's absinthe cup. 
 He sees everything through a golden medium ; there is 
 a yellow spot in his eye, which allows the light of know- 
 ledge and the heat of emotion to penetrate, but which 
 completely excludes the saving influences of the Gospel. 
 And of all modes of intercepting the power of divine 
 light, none is so effective, none is so common as this. 
 It is Satan's masterpiece. He makes the heart to go 
 after the things of earth, so that the things unseen have 
 no attraction. " If any man love the world," says the 
 Apostle, " the love of the Father is not in him." You 
 may as soon expect a photographer to take a portrait of 
 
xii.], SEEING AND NOT PERCEIVING. 277 
 
 a person in a room glazed with yellow glass, as expect a 
 man who lives in the golden atmosphere of the world, 
 and sees everything through the jaundiced medium of 
 worldliness, to copy the beauty of holiness, to become 
 spiritually minded, and like the divine example placed 
 before him. He may see the divine ideal, but he does 
 not perceive it. It produces no effect upon him. And 
 in the end he loses even his admiration for what is great 
 and good, and becomes as blinded in mind, as he is 
 hardened in heart and sordid in life. 
 
 Another yellow spot in the spiritual eye, another yellow 
 medium that allows us to see but not to perceive, is lust 
 of the flesh. Worldliness has a tendency to this sin. The 
 result of the old idolatry of graven images was sen- 
 sual indulgence; and very often still those who begin 
 with the idolatry of the world end with the lust of the 
 flesh. And when this is the case, the transforming and 
 renewing power of Divine light is extinguished. The 
 man who gives himself up to carnal indulgence is inca- 
 pable of appreciating, even of understanding, the spiri- 
 tualities of Christianity. His conscience is blunted, so 
 that he ceases to recognize the sinful nature of his habits ; 
 his moral sense loses its delicacy; his spiritual eye is 
 unable to discern the true nature of God's requirements. 
 His very body ceases to become the ready instrument of 
 his spirit ; its fine harp-strings are unstrung and yield no 
 response to the tuneless soul. Memory is impaired; 
 thought is confused ; the mind is listless and languid, 
 and no longer capable of taking a firm hold of an idea, 
 or seeing it in its entirety. He may retain much outward 
 
278 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 refinement of manners and even amiability of disposition, 
 but his soul becomes sensual and foul, having no room 
 for the self-surrender of true affection, and the humility 
 of a heavenly mind. If every man has a deity of his 
 own the shadow projected from his own nature what 
 is the precise divine representative of his capacity of 
 spiritual appreciation ? His god must be like himself 
 carnal, earthly. If every deviation from right involves a 
 mixture of the atheistic element, his bodily indulgences 
 will produce an atheism proportioned to their degree and 
 extent. There can be no true acknowledgment of God 
 where there is a practical defiance of His laws. The 
 optical law that " the angle of incidence is equal to the 
 angle of reflection, and lies in the same plane/' is equally 
 true in the spiritual world. For only as we become like 
 God, do we form right conceptions of His nature. He 
 is to us what we are in ourselves " upright to the up- 
 right, but Iroward to the froward." Surely there is solemn 
 warning in such considerations as these, against all 
 fleshly lusts as impairing, if not altogether destroying, 
 spiritual vision, and preventing us from seeing the things 
 that belong to our peace. 
 
 Another yellow spot in the spiritual eye another 
 yellow medium which allows us to see but not to per- 
 ceive is unbelief. This is one of the most common 
 forms in which "the pride of life" manifests itself. Un- 
 belief does not spring from ignorance, as many suppose. 
 Were ignorance merely the ground of it, then the Gospel 
 explained and understood ought to remove it ; but the 
 fact that unbelief prevails where the Gospel has been 
 
xii. 1 SEEING AND NOT PERCEIVING. 279 
 
 thoroughly known from infancy, is a clear proof that 
 something else must be at the root of it. There are 
 truths which are simply intellectual, by which neither 
 our feelings nor our characters are affected; and these 
 truths cannot but be believed as soon as the terms 
 expressive of them are stated and understood. But 
 there are other truths which are moral, which involve 
 our interests, and are intimately connected with our 
 character; and these truths will inevitably be re- 
 sisted when brought into antagonism with our wishes 
 and the prevailing habit of our nature. Of this last 
 description are the truths of the Gospel to the mind 
 and heart of the sinner. The deep-rooted enmity, 
 the self-righteous pride of the unrenewed nature prevents 
 the cordial reception of them. Their bearings and 
 implications are so exceedingly humbling ; their call for 
 the abandonment of beloved lusts is so imperative; 
 their injunctions to practise what is altogether repug- 
 nant to the corrupt inclinations of the carnal mind, 
 seem so difficult of performance, that the unbeliever 
 refuses to receive them, listens eagerly to every objection, 
 and shuts his eyes to everything that has a tendency to 
 remove his prejudices. "The preaching of the cross is 
 to them that perish foolishness." "The heart of this 
 people is waxed gross, and their ears are dull of hearing, 
 and their eyes have they closed, lest they should see 
 with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and understand 
 with their heart, and should be converted, and I should 
 heal them." Such texts as these imply that the truth 
 had to a certain extent impressed those who are spoken 
 
280 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 of, for otherwise they could not have been guilty of shut- 
 ting their eyes and ears, and hardening their hearts 
 against it. Warned by an enlightened conscience of their 
 sinful state, they could not bear to admit the full reality 
 of a truth which imperatively demanded a change of life. 
 We must never forget that knowledge is as necessary to 
 unbelief as it is to faith. There is a kind and degree of 
 knowledge which a man must have before he can actually 
 hate the truth and steel his mind against conviction. A 
 measure of light does at times burst in upon the minds 
 of the unbelieving, but " the pride of life " intercepts and 
 neutralizes it. 
 
 Such are the reasons why we see the truth and yet 
 perceive it not. It is because our hearts are not pure, 
 our eyes are not single, our minds are coloured by our 
 prejudices. The lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, 
 and the pride of life, surround us, as it were, with an 
 unfavourable medium, which obstructs the full power of 
 the truth. The "True Light " indeed shines around us; 
 it enlightens our minds, it moves our hearts, but it is 
 shorn of its convincing and converting power by some 
 darling lust, some besetting sin. The god of this world 
 hath blinded us by worldliness, by carnality, by unbelief, 
 lest the full light of the glorious Gospel of Jesus Christ 
 should shine into our hearts, and we should be con- 
 verted and Christ should heal us. 
 
 There is an optical peculiarity called Daltonism or 
 colour-blindness. It is so common that nearly one in 
 twenty have it. It consists in an inability to distinguish 
 colours. Green is confounded with red. Those who suffer 
 
XIL] SEEING AND NOT PERCEIVING. 281 
 
 from this defect are unablej so far as the colour is con- 
 cerned, to distinguish the petals of a rose from its leaves, 
 or the blossom of the scarlet poppy from the unripe corn 
 among which it is growing. The beautiful hues of sunset 
 are a delusion to them ; the faces of their friends wear a 
 strange complexion ; and the fair aspects of nature appear 
 quite different from what they are to others. And yet 
 the eye of the colour-blind seems the same as an ordinary 
 eye. Its structure and appearance look precisely similar. 
 The peculiarity is almost unknown or unrecognized by 
 those who have it ; and being ignorant of its existence 
 themselves, they cannot easily be persuaded to believe it. 
 And so are there not many coming to the Lord's house 
 as His people come, worshipping the Lord as His people 
 worship, making the same profession of religion, and 
 walking in the same ways, and yet who are colour-blind 
 spiritually ? The whole economy of redemption, the 
 entire scheme of grace, is to them altogether different 
 from what it is to those who know the power of godliness. 
 The things that are spiritually discerned are to them un- 
 interesting and incomprehensible. The colours of the 
 heavenly landscape are confounded by them, and appear 
 of one uniform dull hue. Christ Himself, who is alto- 
 gether lovely, has no form or comeliness to them that 
 they should desire Him. While the believer utters his 
 rapturous song, " My beloved is white and ruddy," they 
 say, "What is thy beloved more than another beloved ?" 
 They cannot see the beauties and glories of the world 
 unseen ; and in the very midst of them are crying out, 
 " Who will show us any good ? " 
 
282 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 It is to be feared that the very brightness of Gospel 
 light conceals from many their true character. Living 
 in the full sunlight of grace, they do not realize what 
 manner of persons they are. They are self-righteous, 
 self-confident, and self-satisfied. Associating with God's 
 people, and addressed as such by God's servants, they 
 take for granted that they are truly God's people. They 
 see the faults of others, but they are ignorant of their own 
 the mote in their brother's eye is patent, but they neglect 
 the beam in their own. Now it happens with such 
 persons when the Word of life comes to them with de- 
 monstration of the Spirit and with power, and they are 
 convinced of the error of their ways and led to repent- 
 ance, as it happens with those who are seen by what is 
 called monochromatic light that is, light of one colour. 
 Ordinary sunlight contains seven colours, and is poly- 
 chromatic. But a spirit-lamp burning alcohol saturated 
 with common salt, produces light of one colour, which 
 gives a ghastly hue to the features of the bystanders. 
 We read that this property has been made use of in 
 China for many years as a means of distinguishing 
 persons affected with leprosy. The virus can be thus 
 detected in the blood of a person who has been infected 
 with this dreadful disease only one or two days. " By 
 ordinary daylight it is impossible at this early period 
 to remark any difference between the tint of his skin 
 and that of a person in perfect health; but when the 
 faces of both are lighted up by the flame of a spirit- 
 lamp saturated with salt, whilst the face of the healthy 
 person appears deadly pale, that of the individual affected 
 
XIL] SEEING AND NOT PERCEIVING. 283 
 
 with leprosy appears red as fire." Applying this fact to 
 spiritual things, Peter saw his true character in the mono- 
 chromatic rays that streamed from the True Light when 
 he said, " Depart from me, for I am a sinful man." And 
 the light above the brightness of the noonday sun that, 
 on the road to Damascus, first blinded the self-righteous 
 Pharisee, thinking that he was doing God service when 
 persecuting His Church, and then caused the scales of 
 unbelief to fall from them, so that he saw his true 
 character, was surely monochromatic light. And we too, 
 regarding ourselves in the ordinary daylight of the world, 
 comparing ourselves with others, may have no idea of 
 the leprosy of sin that is working the work of death 
 within us. No symptoms of it may appear to others in 
 our outward conduct, which, as touching the righteous- 
 ness of the law, may be blameless ; we ourselves may be 
 ignorant of its existence. But when we view ourselves 
 in the monochromatic light of God's law when we are 
 brought into the presence of the Holy One of Israel 
 who cannot look upon sin then we see how vile and 
 polluted is our own image. We have an awful sense of 
 sin, as something deadly, haunting, indestructible, sitting 
 close to the springs of our personal being; and smiting 
 upon our breasts we cry out, " God be merciful to us 
 sinners." 
 
 Beyond the seven bands of colour described by 
 Newton, other coloured rays unknown to him have 
 since been discovered. These rays, called fluorescent 
 rays, are not visible to the human eye, except through 
 the medium of various substances unless peculiar 
 
284. THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 conditions are established; but they are probably seen 
 under all circumstances by those animals whose eyes are 
 adjusted, as the eyes of all nocturnal animals are, to 
 admit the rays of least refrangibility, and to vibrate 
 in unison with their vibrations. So is it with God's 
 Word. This spectrum of the Sun of Righteousness has 
 rays beyond those seen by ordinary eyes which are 
 appreciated only by those who have spiritual vision. 
 All whose spirits are in harmony with the mind of the 
 Spirit see wonderful things out of God's law. So is it 
 also with nature, which is God's Book. It has heavenly 
 hues and deep meanings, which only the educated eye 
 and the sanctified heart can detect. We are surrounded 
 on every side by objects fitted by their very constitution 
 to point us to spiritual realities, but sin has blinded us 
 to their significance ; seeing we see and do not perceive 
 them. By neglect and carelessness we have made our- 
 selves unable to discern hundreds of beautiful things, 
 which are well fitted to furnish matter for constant 
 delightful and devotional thought. We see only truths 
 of development and creation in nature, and not those 
 of love and redemption of moral and spiritual life. 
 The evidences which it affords of God's existence are 
 merely mechanical demonstrations, proofs of design 
 and of skilful workmanship not symbols of spirit 
 and love correspondences between the outward and 
 the inward the fleeting shadow and the eternal sub- 
 stance; consequently our hearts are not touched with 
 reverence, our spirits are not humbled and purified 
 by the vision of God's holiness. He who made 
 
XIL] SEEING AND NOT PERCEIVING. 285 
 
 man in the image of God, made earth in the similitude 
 of heaven ; and therefore the enlightening of the soul is 
 the apocalypse of nature the anointing of the eye with 
 spiritual eyesalve is the discovery in whatsoever things 
 are pure and lovely here the type of brighter things 
 above. Let us seek, then, this true euphrasy let us 
 train our eye to truth and openness so that we may 
 behold with open face the " open secret " of the uni- 
 verse ; that, since it is the law of Heaven to confer 
 spiritual gifts in the presence of their material repre- 
 sentatives to baptize with water and with the Holy 
 Ghost to give the blessedness of Divine communion 
 with the bread and wine of the sacrament we, as 
 Christ's disciples, may have the explanation of His 
 heavenly parable spreading around us, when like Isaac 
 we go out to meditate in the fields, and may hear 
 His voice saying to us, "Blessed are your eyes, for 
 they see ! " 
 
286 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 ORIZABA. 
 
 "In the mount of the Lord it shall be seen." GENESIS xxii. 14. 
 
 [In ascending Orizaba, or any other of the giant peaks of the Andes of Quito, 
 the traveller passes successively through all the climates of the earth, the seasons 
 of the year, and the zones of vegetable and animal life. He can see, when he has 
 reached the summit, what is elsewhere spread horizontally over the earth's sur- 
 face, and over the whole year, vertically represented along the side of the moun- 
 tain below him ; while above him, if he be there over night, he can behold the 
 whole firmament of stars those of the Northern as well as those of the Southern 
 hemisphere the Southern Cross and the Magellanic clouds around the Antarctic 
 Pole, and the constellation of the Plough around the Arctic Pole Such a moun- 
 tain summit is the watch-tower of creation, from which, with overpowering 
 emotion, the eye may embrace, in one glorious view, the whole universe of 
 things.] 
 
 THERE is one spot where man may stand, 
 
 And at a single glance 
 All glories of the sky and land 
 
 Behold in rapture's trance. 
 
 The heavens unroll their mystic scroll 
 
 Of stars above his head ; 
 The Cross and Plough at either pole 
 
 Their rays together shed. 
 
 All dimes of earth beneath his feet 
 
 Their varied spectrum show, 
 From glowing hues of tropic heat 
 
 To whi'te of arctic snow. 
 
 Ranged down the mountain-side, his eye 
 
 All zones of life may trace, 
 Fom lichen on the summit high 
 
 To palm-tree at the base. 
 
 All seasons meet beneath the same 
 
 Triumphal arch of blue ; 
 And all earth's charms combine to frame 
 
 One picture to his view. 
 
XIL] ORIZABA. 287 
 
 Oh, could we find some central peak, 
 
 High in the world of soul, 
 From whence the broken views we seek 
 
 Might blend in one great whole ; 
 
 Where we above all doubt might soar, 
 
 In air as crystal clear, 
 And every mystery explore, 
 
 And bring all distance near ; 
 
 And focus in one field of light 
 
 Truth's star-beams scattered wide ; 
 And both the poles of life unite 
 
 Harmonious side by side ! 
 
 We stand upon a point so low, 
 
 We see of earth and sky 
 But one small arc ; in part we know ; 
 
 In part we prophesy. 
 
 Along th' horizon's narrow rim 
 
 No opening we discern ; 
 And mists of sense arise to dim 
 
 The wisdom that we learn. 
 
 We walk amid the world's vain show, 
 
 To higher glories blind ; 
 The very lights of science throw 
 
 Vague shadows on the mind. 
 
 By lines of blackness* we unfold 
 
 The plan of worlds afar j 
 And darkly through a glass t behold 
 
 The insect and the star. 
 
 The smallest moss upon a stone, 
 
 Like "writing on the wall," 
 Can only be explained by One, 
 
 Though seen and read by all. 
 
 * Fraunhofer's lines in spectrum-analysis, 
 t Microscope and telescope. 
 
288 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. XIL 
 
 In vain we long for larger views, 
 
 Which loftier heights impart ; 
 The limits of our life refuse 
 
 The wishes of our heart. 
 
 Whene'er one mystery is revealed, 
 
 Into the foreground brought, 
 Another, by its form concealed, 
 
 Starts up to baffle thought. 
 
 While here, the wisest sage must live 
 
 By faith and not by sight ; 
 For duty only, Heaven will give 
 
 Enough of guiding light. 
 
 But when at last, from life's dark road, 
 We climb heaven's heights serene, 
 
 All light upon the hill of God 
 In God's light shall be seen. 
 
 All kingdoms of the truth shall there 
 
 To tearless eyes be shown ; 
 And, dwelling in that purer air, 
 
 We'll know even as we're known. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 LOSS AND GAIN IN MIRACLES. 
 
 " And when the tempter came to Him, he said, If thou be the Son 
 of God, command that these stones be made bread." MATT. iv. 3. 
 
 TCORMERLY miracles separated from their doctrinal 
 teaching were regarded solely as evidences of 
 Christianity ; the master proofs of the divinity of Christ. 
 Their evidential character is now, however, admitted to 
 be only part of their significance, not the whole of it. 
 They are found to gain more in the power of convincing 
 us, when they are considered not as mere bulwarks, but 
 as essential parts of Gospel instruction. If the sceptic 
 is ever to be satisfied regarding the reality of the won- 
 derful works which our Saviour performed, I believe it 
 will be, not by the consideration of the abstract question 
 of miracles in relation to natural law or human testi- 
 mony, but by an attentive and earnest study of the 
 miracles themselves individually and as a whole. Their 
 soberness and grandeur the laws of harmony, modesty, 
 and physical consistency pervading them their pure 
 morality and lofty religious teaching their intimate 
 relations with the scheme of grace will produce an 
 impression, when investigated in this way, which no 
 u 
 
290 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 arguments derived from the 'exact methods of science, 
 and the intense realism of the present day, can remove. 
 Comparing the miracles of the authentic Gospels with 
 those of legendary lore and of the apocryphal gospels, 
 every candid, unbiassed mind must be struck with the 
 vast difference between them everywhere in the essen- 
 tial reason, in the inward spirit, in the outward form. 
 The glory of the true comes out in strongest light by 
 contrast with the false. All the apocryphal miracles 
 were assigned to the infancy of Jesus ; whereas none of 
 the true miracles were performed until after the baptism 
 of our Lord and His entrance on His public ministry ; 
 thus showing the perfect consistency between the deve- 
 lopment of Him who grew in wisdom and in stature, 
 and the growth of human nature in all its stages no 
 part of His life being forced and unnatural. Not only 
 are the apocryphal miracles childish and absurd, but they 
 exhibit our Lord as capricious and passionate, causing 
 harm and mischief, indulging in petty contrivances for 
 revenge, utterly at variance with our conceptions of a 
 Divine childhood. They are recorded solely to show 
 the power of Jesus, and to pander to a love of the mar- 
 vellous, in striking contrast with the actual conduct of 
 Him who never sought this kind of testimony who said 
 to the multitude, " Except ye see signs and wonders ye will 
 not believe ;" and who regarded it as a condescension to 
 obtuse spiritual susceptibilities, when, instead of claim- 
 ing a spiritual faith and obedience, He had to substitute, 
 " or else believe me for the very works' sake." They 
 have no connection with one another ; no harmony as a 
 
XIIL] LOSS AND GAIN JN MIRACLES. 291 
 
 whole. They do not illustrate any doctrine ; they have 
 no spiritual significance. These remarks apply with 
 even greater force to the later, or ecclesiastical, mira- 
 cles, with which the hagiology of the Church of Rome 
 abounds. We turn with a blessed sense of relief from 
 the marvellous records of saints, haloed with glory, enter- 
 ing into dark chambers and illuminating them, of monks 
 hanging in the air in the cloister while they read their 
 breviary, or floating up and down churches like birds, to 
 the simple yet sublime words which describe the walking 
 of Jesus on the waters, or the glory upon Tabor, or the 
 ascension from the Mount of Olives. We here come 
 out from the dark haunts of superstition to the clear 
 sunshine and the pure air of heaven, and feel that 
 the place on which we stand is holy ground. 
 
 The miracle which Satan suggested to our Lord in the 
 wilderness of the temptation belongs to the same class 
 as the apocryphal miracles. It is a type of mere thau- 
 maturgical displays, which are eminently undivine in 
 their nature and prejudicial in their operation. In our 
 short-sighted selfishness we might wish that miracles like 
 these were performed for us daily ; that instead of having 
 to work and to wait during long months for the slow pro- 
 cesses of nature, we might have the stones converted into 
 bread for us at once. But where would be the gain ? How 
 much beauty would be thus overpassed and lost to the 
 world ! Man does not live by bread alone, but also by 
 beauty. He has a hunger of tne soul as well as a hunger 
 of the body. He has spiritual tastes as well as fleshly 
 appetites. The eye longs as much for beauty as the 
 u 2 
 
292 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 mouth for food. Nature's beauty is intended though, 
 alas ! it often fails to lead us up to the beauty of holi- 
 ness, which is its true objective ; to " the King in His 
 beauty," whose image is mirrored in all the works of His 
 hands. Ever in Nature's loveliness there is something 
 that we long to make our own, and yet cannot grasp. 
 It is not merely that it is fleeting, that it perishes with 
 the changes of the seasons. Even in the full meridian 
 of summer's perfection, the deep green languor of the 
 woods, the purple splendour of the sunset hills, the glory 
 of the flowers, mock as it were the longing of the soul 
 to embrace and appropriate the subtle charm. The 
 Greeks of old pictured this unapproachableness of na- 
 ture's beauty, in the myth of the transformation of 
 Daphne chased by her lover into a laurel bush, which 
 he could no longer clasp in his arms. We chase the 
 beauty of Nature, and we find it imprisoned in every 
 tree and flower ; and while it attracts, it repels us, and 
 leaves our hearts unsatisfied and craving, just because 
 God meant that the finite should lead to the infinite, 
 that in the sensuous we should see the type of spiritual 
 beauty hidden, and through disappointment at the unreal 
 phantom learn to believe in the Angel whose living love- 
 liness is burning in every bush. For this twofold hunger 
 of man God has made provision in the roundabout way 
 in which our food is prepared for us. The corn that 
 yields bread to nourish our bodies, yields in its gradual 
 growth from the seed, and ripening to the harvest under 
 all the gracious influences of heaven, beauty to delight 
 our hearts and refine our minds beauty which is a puri- 
 
XIIL] LOSS AND GAIN IN MIRACLES. 293 
 
 fying vision of God's character, a ray of the Divine 
 Nature shining through the indications of mere intelli- 
 gence and capacity which its organization and adaptation 
 of means to an end display. All this beauty would have 
 been obliterated in the conversion of stones into bread. 
 Some whose hearts are callous to such gentle influences, 
 and alive only to utilitarian considerations, might think 
 this no great loss. But those who know and feel the 
 value of beauty in the education of a pure mind, its 
 sanative influence over our bodily organization, and its 
 reaction upon our moral nature, disposing us to deeds of 
 purity and peace, the earth growing more beautiful as 
 we grow better and wiser, and we growing better and 
 wiser as we learn to see more of the beauty of the 
 world, would regard the destruction of this quality by a 
 miracle as one of the most serious privations. 
 
 But besides the loss of natural beauty and all its edu- 
 cative influences, there would be the loss in the miracle 
 of the temptation, of the spiritual lessons connected 
 with the growth of bread in the ordinary way. There is 
 no natural object which from first to last is so intimately 
 associated with the heavenly world as the growth of 
 man's bread. God has given more abundant honour to 
 the corn than to any other plant. It is in the vegetable 
 kingdom what Israel was among the nations the pecu- 
 liar, the chosen plant. It is the subject of a covenant 
 between God and man, wherein the present succession of 
 the seasons of seed-time and harvest, summer and win- 
 ter is guaranteed, and God has promised to preserve 
 and provide for the corn so long as man shall faithfully 
 
294 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 perform his part in its cultivation. He has ordained 
 that the sceptre of the world should be literally a straw; 
 that the great power which should reclaim the wilderness, 
 found empires, build cities, and subdue nations, and upon 
 which the fate and fortunes of mankind in all ages should 
 depend, should be the growth of the corn. It has 
 pleased Him that music, which has soothed or quickened 
 humanity, should trace its origin literally as well as 
 mythically to the Pandean pipe the humble oaten 
 stem. He has told us in Scripture, and confirmed it in 
 history, that all the glory of man is literally, as well as 
 metaphorically, the flower of grass ; that all the wonders 
 of civilization, the arts of life, the refinement of manners, 
 the blessings of social organization, and the securities of 
 settled government, are owing to the cultivation of this 
 grass of the field. He has made the corn the basis of 
 man's home and all its gentle virtues, and the starting- 
 point of man's intellectual and moral progress. Through 
 the cultivation of it God has made him amenable to law, 
 cognizant of moral obligations, capable of receiving and 
 understanding a written Divine revelation, and has en- 
 dowed him with the power of worshipping and holding 
 communion with his Maker. And as He has made its 
 ultimate product in bread the visible instrumentality by 
 which He most effectively nourishes man's natural body, 
 so in the sacrament of the Lord's Supper He has given 
 it the highest honour, and consecrated it to the most 
 sacred purpose, in making it the symbol of Him whose 
 flesh is meat indeed, and a help to faith in the nourish- 
 ment of the soul. 
 
xiii.J LOSS AND GAIN IN MIRACLES. 295 
 
 Every corn-field is a witness for God. Its visible 
 things are signs of the invisible ; its objects of sight 
 are also objects of faith. The kingdom of heaven is 
 indeed literally as if a man should cast seed into the 
 ground, and the seed should spring and grow up first 
 the blade, then the ear, and then the full corn in the ear. 
 The whole process is a divine parable, a mute gospel 
 from beginning to end. Every stage suggests the most 
 apposite symbols and analogies of truths pertaining to 
 the spiritual world. The seed committed to the earth, 
 and dying there, in order to grow and produce the 
 harvest, is a visible representation of that great mystery 
 of godliness the necessity of Christ's death, and the 
 necessity of man's self-sacrifice. The different results 
 of God's Word, according to the varying dispositions 
 of the hearers, are interpreted by the various fortunes 
 of the seed in the parable of the sower. By the growth 
 of the tares with the wheat is signified the intermix- 
 ture of good and bad members in the visible Church, 
 the different uses to which they put the same advan- 
 tages, and the different fates that await them in the great 
 day of trial. By the seed growing secretly from stage to 
 stage is taught the doctrine that the life of faith is main- 
 tained by God, and that as He is the author so He will be 
 the finisher of it. By the reaping of the corn in harvest 
 is symbolized the judgment of the world ; and finally, by 
 the germination of the corn in spring is typified to us the 
 grand lesson of the resurrection that death in the human 
 body, like death in the vegetable seed, is only the highest 
 and essential part of its life pausing awhile that it may 
 
296 THE MINISTR Y OF NA TURE. [CHAP. 
 
 start anew, casting away the form in which it was clothed 
 in order to appear in brighter and nobler lineaments 
 of immortal youth. All these deeply interesting and im- 
 portant spiritual teachings of the corn, and many others, 
 expressed alike in the parables of Scripture and in the 
 metaphors of the Oriental mystics, suggested to medi- 
 tative minds of every age and country, would be lost to 
 mankind if the stones were converted at once into bread. 
 But further still, the miracle of the temptation would, 
 if performed, have produced confusion in the affairs of 
 the world, and unsettled men's minds. Suppose a 
 miracle-worker were to appear amongst us, and convert 
 the stones into bread, what would be the effect produced 
 by his presence ? Would it not help to develop the very 
 worst features of our nature, foster an idle, greedy, 
 gambling disposition? The demoralization of a lottery, 
 the disorganization of society caused by the sudden dis- 
 covery of a rich gold-field in the midst of a populous 
 community, would be nothing to it. The quiet, trustful 
 industries by which daily bread is earned would be 
 universally abandoned ; men and women would flock in 
 crowds to the magician, and urge him to action in their 
 behalf by any flattery or honours which could be paid 
 to him. God's ordinary gifts and ordinary methods ot 
 supplying human wants, the tedious operations of com- 
 mon labour, would all be despised; prudence and 
 economy would be disregarded ; a spirit of selfishness, 
 recklessness, and speculation would be engendered ; what 
 was easily got would be speedily wasted. There would be 
 no charity or beneficence; man's expectations and de- 
 
XIIL] LOSS AND GAIN IN MIRACLES. 297 
 
 sires would always exceed the most boundless miraculous 
 power, and bitter disappointment would be felt at its going 
 only so far and no farther. In short, no greater curse 
 could be inflicted upon a community, than the presence 
 among them of such a miracle- worker; and every sensible 
 man would earnestly long to be delivered from it. 
 
 Yet more, the miracle of the temptation would have 
 left the wilderness a wilderness. It would have wrought 
 no change upon the face of nature. Bread would have 
 been gathered from the earth as the Israelites gathered 
 manna in the desert, without affecting in the least de- 
 gree the ground upon which it lay. Inorganic matter 
 would have become organic without the agency of that 
 vegetable life whose developments and changes give 
 the principal charm and interest to the material world. 
 Stones would have been at once transformed into bread 
 without the intervention of the corn of wheat, whose 
 germination and growth make the wilderness and the 
 solitary place to be glad, and the desert to rejoice and 
 blossom as the rose. It is the law of God's providence 
 that the same process of nature which yields food to 
 man clothes the earth also with verdure. The seed 
 whose ultimate product is bread which strengtheneth 
 man's heart, is endowed, when sown and quickened, 
 with the power of appropriating crude mineral particles, 
 and converting them in its growing tissues into vital 
 elements, bright colours and shapes of beauty ; and thus 
 an intimate relation is established with the soil, which 
 converts its barrenness into fertility, and its desolation 
 into life. The green blade which it first puts forth 
 
298 THE MINISTR Y OF NA TURE. [CHAP. 
 
 spreads a rich carpet of verdure over the naked earth ; 
 and the different stages of growth add their own peculiar 
 beauties of form and colouring to the landscape, until 
 at last the ripe corn in the ear rolls its golden waves 
 beneath the blue autumnal sky, and is one of the loveliest 
 and most gladdening sights upon which the eye can 
 rest. Besides contributing to the amenity of the earth, 
 it leaves behind it in its decaying stubble the elements 
 of increased fertility in the soil. Thus the growth of 
 the corn adorns the earth while it is going on, enriches 
 the earth when it has served its purpose as man's food, 
 and prepares the world by its labours and its products 
 to be what God intended it to be a bright green home 
 of abundance and love, the suburb of the celestial city. 
 All this would manifestly have been overstepped and 
 lost, if the miracle of the temptation had been performed. 
 Bread would have been artificially manufactured, not 
 naturally grown; and the wilderness of Adam's fall, 
 which Christ was to restore to more than Edenic fruit- 
 fulness, would have been totally unaffected. 
 
 Lastly, the miracle of the temptation would have 
 obliterated that wonderful process of mutual adaptation 
 by which the plant and the animal benefit each other. 
 The corn and the vine are sanitary agents in the economy 
 of nature. Every corn-field and vineyard remove from 
 the air a certain quantity of that carbonic acid which 
 is exhaled so abundantly from the lungs of men and 
 animals, and during the combustion and decay of sub- 
 stances; and by absorbing this deadly product and assi- 
 milating it in their tissues, and giving off in exchange 
 
xin.] ' L OSS AND GAIN IN MIR A CLES. 299 
 
 oxygen gas, the atmosphere is kept in a pure and 
 healthy state. Every stalk of corn and every vine 
 make themselves felt in the good they do the air a 
 beautiful return for the benefit they receive from the air. 
 What would be death to us is life to them ; they feed 
 upon what we reject as poison, and return it to us as 
 bread and wine ; and in the process they help to main- 
 tain the atmosphere in a fit condition for our breathing. 
 This striking combination of the functions of one order 
 of living beings with the necessary wants of another, by 
 which the whole world of animated existence is bene- 
 fited, would have had no place for its exercise if the stones 
 were converted into bread; and no provision would 
 have been made for counteracting the operation of various 
 causes constantly contaminating the atmosphere, which 
 would have gone on to such an extent that life on the 
 earth would soon have been impossible. 
 
 Such are some of the most prominent losses involved 
 in miracles of Satan's type. Such would be the effect 
 produced if the conversion of stones at once into bread 
 were to become general. And we must remember that 
 the temptation of Satan was typical. A single exception 
 of that kind to the" ordinary plan of God's administration 
 would have been fatal to the whole. Just as, in the 
 sphere of God's commandments, he who offends in one 
 point is guilty of all, because God is the Author of all ; 
 so, in nature's economy, the single act of commanding 
 the stones to be made bread would have been a violation 
 of the whole divinely-planned and intimately related 
 scheme. We can see no reason why, if there be one 
 
300 THE MINIS TR Y OF NA TURE. [CHAP. 
 
 infringement, there should not be many, and the sug- 
 gested miracle be the pattern of a general derangement 
 reflecting upon God's all-present wisdom and goodness, 
 and seriously impairing our trust in Him. 
 
 To all these objections the miracles of Christ them- 
 selves, considered as mere thaumaturgic displays, are 
 liable. Nature's beauty is los in them too. When the 
 bread was multiplied at Capernaum, all the revelations 
 of nature's loveliness from the sowing in spring to the 
 ingathering in harvest, the graceful form and bright 
 colouring of stem and blade and ear were at once 
 overstepped. The multitude had the utilitarian result 
 but not the aesthetic process. They had bread, but not 
 beauty. So also at Cana of Galilee. The living agency 
 of the vine was dispensed with, and the water was at 
 once converted into wine. But how much wonder and 
 loveliness were overpassed by the miracle ! The gradual 
 unfolding of the tender greenness and graceful shape of 
 the foliage ; the slow disclosure of the hidden sweetness 
 and fragrance of leaf, and blossom, and fruit; the ela- 
 boration of the wine, first in the vessels of the yellow 
 stem and branches, and through the intricate cells of the 
 leaves, then through the odorous blossoms, and lastly in 
 the transparent goblets of the golden or purple grapes : 
 all this wonderful series of ever-changing but ever lovely 
 forms and colours, into which the dews and showers of 
 heaven are metamorphosed in their passage into wine in 
 the vineyard, was obliterated. And instead of the long 
 feast of beauty for almost every sense, spread over a 
 whole summer, there were a few firkins of wine, created 
 
xiii.] LOSS AND GAIN IN MIRACLES. 301 
 
 at once, to gratify a single sense, during an hour or two's 
 social enjoyment. In the sudden stilling of the tempest 
 on the Lake of Gennesaret, the vistas opened up in 
 the wreathing vapours, the strange effects of light and 
 shade, the dissolving glories of the clouds, the rainbow's 
 pencilled petals of light, the white foam of the billows 
 sinking slowly into blue ripples all the grandeurs and 
 beauties of sea and sky which are disclosed in the 
 gradual subsidence of a storm in a natural way were 
 overpassed. 
 
 Then, too, the moral lessons which the processes of 
 nature teach were lost in the miracles of Christ. In the 
 multiplication of the loaves and in the changing of the 
 water into wine, the spiritual truths symbolized in the 
 growth of the corn and the unfolding of the vine were 
 a-wanting. The profitable meditations on heavenly things 
 suggested by a walk through a harvest-field or a vineyard, 
 found no place in the suddenness of these wonderful 
 works. Experiences of trust and dependence upon a 
 higher Power, acquired during the continuance and 
 gradual subsidence of a storm, and the discipline of 
 faith and patience which moulds and strengthens the 
 character during the progress of an illness, or in the 
 season of convalescence, were overstepped by the mi- 
 raculous calming of the tempest, and the miraculous 
 curing of disease. Yet more, the Gospel history plainly 
 reveals to us that the miracles of Christ were regarded 
 by the multitude, and even by the disciples, as the 
 performances of a thaumaturge, and actually produced 
 the undesirable influences of such performances which 
 
302 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 I have indicated. The feeding of the five thousand in 
 such an extraordinary manner, unsettled their minds. 
 Looking upon it as a special piece of good fortune, they 
 wished the miracle to be repeated. They greatly pre- 
 ferred to have their hunger satisfied in this convenient 
 manner than by their own toil and industry ; and there- 
 fore it is recorded that they followed Christ for the sake 
 of the loaves and fishes, and wished to take him by 
 force and make him their king. 
 
 If the miracles of Jesus involved these losses, and 
 were liable to these objections, why then, it may well be 
 asked, did He perform them at all? Why did He decline 
 to do the miracle which Satan suggested, and yet after- 
 wards do miracles apparently of a similar nature ? In 
 reply to these questions it may be stated that the miracle 
 which Satan suggested would have been a mere thauma- 
 turgic display, a mere juggling with the secret powers of 
 nature. It would have had no moral purpose. It would 
 have given no compensation whatever for the loss in- 
 curred in it revealed no higher moral beauty, taught 
 no nobler spiritual lesson, in return for the beauty and 
 typical significance of the natural process which it would 
 have obliterated. How widely different were the 
 miracles which Christ actually performed ! They were 
 like the exceptions in the physical world. Every depart- 
 ment of nature contains some exception to the general 
 law by which it is regulated ; and each of these excep- 
 tions reveals a higher law of beneficence and wisdom 
 than the common order of things. For instance, water, 
 instead of contracting and becoming heavier as it freezes, 
 
xni.] LOSS AND GAIN IN MIRACLES. 303 
 
 on the contrary swells and becomes lighter. Had it been 
 governed by the general law, the layer of ice formed on 
 the surface would immediately . sink to the bottom ; 
 another layer would form on the top, and in its turn 
 fall to the bottom, and thus the freezing would go on 
 until every lake, and river, and collection of water on 
 the globe would become a solid mass of ice, which no 
 summer's sun could ever thaw. But by the exception to 
 the law the ice expands and floats on the top, and thus 
 preserves the water beneath fluid.* In like manner, the 
 miracles of Christ in their higher sphere, while exceptions 
 to God's ordinary administration, were uniformly charged 
 with some errand of love, some purpose of wisdom and 
 mercy beyond the common course of nature and provi- 
 dence. They more than compensated the losses incurred 
 in them. They were far higher than mere thaumaturgic 
 displays. The mere elements of wonder in them were 
 always absorbed in the loftier and more solemn moral 
 purposes which they served. Nature was set aside that 
 the supernatural might be revealed. The beauty of the 
 veil was drawn up out of sight that the surpassing beauty 
 
 * This property, long supposed to be peculiar to water, is found by 
 recent experiment to be shared by bismuth, a substance upon whose 
 expansion in freezing no such vital consequences depend ; and hence 
 the above beautiful theory of special design, in connection with the 
 formation of ice, is regarded by some as a mere devout imagination. 
 This result, however, by no means logically follows from the dis- 
 covery. It renders, indeed, the old phenomenon no longer unique, but 
 it does not lessen its value as a remarkable evidence of divine adap- 
 tation of means to ends. Though the property in question in the 
 one case should be comparatively useless, it cannot be inferred that 
 the special use which it serves in the other case was not intended 
 and is a mere coincidence. 
 
304 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 of the object which it concealed might be clearly shown. 
 That which was obliterated in what seemed a dead course 
 of things in the corn-field and vineyard, was found in a 
 living Person. The attention usually given to the objects 
 of nature, and to the ordinary ways of God's providence, 
 was concentrated in Jesus. The True Vine, by whose 
 living power the water was changed at once into wine, 
 displayed a greater glory in the act than the natural vine 
 in all its long course of development. The True Bread 
 revealed a higher wonder, in multiplying the loaves for 
 the hungry multitude, than the corn exhibits in all its 
 stages of growth, from the sowing to the reaping. The 
 loss of the natural beauty in the miracle a beauty which 
 is relative, passing and perishing is truly a great gain 
 when it reveals to us the higher moral beauty of the 
 altogether lovely One a beauty that is absolute, perfect, 
 and self-sustained ; and a finite process of creation may 
 well be obliterated without regret, when in its place we 
 find Him in whom creation and the Creator met in 
 reality, in whom God united and reconciled all things 
 that are in heaven and in earth. 
 
 Then, for the loss in Christ's miracles of the spiritual 
 lessons taught by the ripening corn and the growing vine, 
 we have the interpretation and application of these 
 lessons by His living lips. For mute symbols we have 
 articulate words; for the dull unchanging signals of 
 nature, that may be misunderstood, we have our own 
 human language our own human thoughts and feelings. 
 The miracles of Jesus were not silent wonders, arbitrary 
 works, but acted parables illustrated and illumined 
 
XIIL] LOSS AND GAIN IN MIRACLES. 305 
 
 truths. They were seals of holy doctrines, a representa- 
 tion to dim-sighted mortals of the mysteries of the king- 
 dom in the typical language of external acts. Christ's 
 miracles and parables must be combined, if we would 
 understand the perfection and oneness of their teaching. 
 The True Vine Himself gives us the spiritual teachings 
 of nature which we miss at the marriage-feast at Cana, in 
 the exquisite fifteenth chapter of St. John; and the loss of 
 the analogies of the corn-field at Capernaum was more 
 than compensated by the discourses of wonderful depth 
 and meaning, proclaiming Himself to be the True Bread 
 to which the feeding of the five thousand was made the 
 introduction. In short, all Christ's miracles were the 
 natural texts of spiritual discourses. They rang, as 
 Foster grandly says, the great bell of the universe, that 
 those who had ears to hear might come and hear the 
 divine sermon that followed. 
 
 The undesirable effects of His miracles to which I have 
 alluded, our Lord strove earnestly on every occasion to 
 counteract. So far from seeking to unsettle men's minds 
 by them, His sole object was to lead men through them 
 to the exercise of greater faith and trust in God, and to 
 be more quiet and contented in their usual occupations. 
 So far from desiring to undervalue the common things 
 and the ordinary ways of life, by the display of extra- 
 ordinary powers, His mighty works were all meant to 
 reflect a heavenly glory upon common laws and every- 
 day affairs. The constancy and uniformity of nature had 
 f made men insensible to the ruling providence of God, 
 and Jesus performed miracles to prove to men God's 
 
 x 
 
306 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 presence in all things, and to show that the law and Him 
 who works according to the law, by them confounded, 
 are separate and distinct. Familiarity had spread a film 
 of blindness over men's eyes, and our Saviour wrought 
 miracles to act as a sacred euphrasy, and open their sight 
 to the wonders that were always around them. Five 
 thousand men were fed in a miraculous manner, that 
 men might be taught in this striking way the ordinary 
 lesson, that it is God who gives us our daily bread by 
 means of the ordinances of nature and of human society, 
 and in whom we live and move and have our being. The 
 miracle was performed because the circumstances of the 
 case required it. It was no needless, ostentatious display 
 of supernatural power. The wilderness supplied no natural 
 food ; and without the multiplication of the loaves and 
 fishes, the impulsive multitude who followed Jesus into 
 it, would have fainted with hunger. He gave thanks to 
 the Father, and blessed the miraculous provision, to show 
 that it came under the same obligations of dependence 
 and gratitude as human nature's daily food. He com- 
 manded the disciples to gather up the fragments that 
 nothing might be lost, to guard the disciples against the 
 assumption that they might fairly waste what could be so 
 easily supplied. When He found that the effect pro- 
 duced upon the multitude by the miracle was not that 
 which He desired, He withdrew Himself from them. And 
 afterwards when they discovered Him, He upbraided 
 them for seeking Him, not because they saw the sign of 
 His redemptive work in the miracle, but because their 
 bodily wants were satisfied by it ; and exhorted them to 
 
XIIL] LOSS AND GAIN IN MIRACLES. 307 
 
 labour not for the meat that perisheth, but for the meat 
 that endureth unto everlasting life, for the spiritual truth 
 of which the miracle was the mere outward vehicle. 
 
 One of the most striking characteristics of the miracles 
 of Jesus, is the fact that they all fell in, by a natural 
 harmony, with that law of man's economy which ordains 
 that in the sweat of his face he shall eat bread that 
 all blessings shall come from toil and pain. These 
 miracles were not irregular wonders, but Divine aids to 
 human labour Divine developments and completions of 
 human beginnings. Miracles were performed not with- 
 t out human means, but through them. The miracle of the 
 loaves and fishes was not the creation of new food alto- 
 gether of " ambrosial cates," but the multiplication of 
 one poor fisher's rude and scanty store. It did not start 
 from the primary natural source of the corn of wheat, but 
 from the latest artificial result of bread ; not from the 
 embryo or roe, but from the full-grown fish caught and 
 conveyed to the spot by the fisherman's toil, and pre- 
 pared as food by human hands. The miracle of Cana 
 was not the creation of a heavenly beverage unknown to 
 earth, in empty vessels, but the conversion into the com- 
 mon wine of the country only of better quality of 
 water which the servants had drawn with toil and trouble. 
 There is nothing in the narrative which supports the com- 
 mon notion, that all the water which was poured into the 
 six jars was turned into wine. Indeed the exact words in 
 the original altogether exclude such an idea. Only as 
 much of the water as was drawn from the jars by the 
 labour of the servants was changed into wine. And 
 
 *>*^* 
 
 THE 
 
308 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 while this interpretation .removes the difficulty which 
 some feel regarding the enormous quantity of liquor sup- 
 posed to have been manufactured by our Lord, it also 
 confirms, in a striking manner, the truth that it was the 
 results of human toil only which Jesus blessed. It was 
 not till the fourth watch of the night, when the disciples 
 were fairly exhausted with rowing against the tempest, that 
 Jesus came to their aid, subdued the storm and brought 
 the ship immediately to the land whither they went. 
 The miraculous draught of fishes, and the finding of 
 the coin in the fish's mouth, were both direct results of 
 ordinary toil. In the Moabite war, the Jewish army, 
 about to perish with thirst, had to dig ditches in the 
 valley in which they were encamped, at the command of 
 Elisha, ere the Lord, without wind or rain, sent the 
 abundance of water which supplied their wants, and, 
 by the blood-red reflection of the rising sun in its wide 
 expanse, proved the means of destroying the enemy. 
 The widow of Obadiah had to pour a little of the oil, 
 which was her last possession, into each vessel which she 
 borrowed, in order that it might be filled to the brim 
 with the miraculous increase of the Lord. Even in the 
 supreme miracle of raising Lazarus from the grave, the 
 aid of human labour was called in. The bystanders were 
 commanded to roll away the stone from the door of the 
 sepulchre, and to loose Lazarus from the cerements of the 
 tomb, to do all in fact that man could do towards raising 
 the dead. In like manner, it would be easy to show that 
 all the other miracles in the Old and New Testaments, 
 "instead of dispensing with human labour, crowned it 
 
xiii.] LOSS AND GAIN IN MIRACLES. 309 
 
 with a blessing which it could not itself work out, that 
 in them human effort not only preceded, but carried to 
 its end the aid of God." 
 
 And in this respect how different are the Divine 
 miracles from the marvels recorded in the mythologies 
 and fairy lore of every nation ! Aladdin rubs his ring or 
 his lamp, and immediately a magic feast is provided, for 
 which no tiller of the ground toiled in the sweat of his 
 brow ; a gorgeous palace is raised at once without the 
 slightest intervention of human labour or skill. Fortu- 
 natus puts on his wishing-cap, and immediately all that 
 he fancies is accomplished without any trouble. All 
 these myths are objective expressions of the intense 
 human longing to change stones into bread by the 
 mere exercise of arbitrary power to realize the ideals 
 of creation without the toil and trouble through which 
 alone they can be wrought out. Men have dreamed 
 fascinating dreams of removing the disabilities and 
 limitations of the world and the evils of life, without 
 sorrow. Poets have pictured earthly paradises, where 
 life would be one long festival, 
 
 " Summer isles of Eden lying in dark purple spheres of sea." 
 But vain are all such dreams and longings. They are 
 of human, not of Divine origin, and spring from a root 
 of selfishness and not of holiness. They cannot be 
 realized in a fallen world, full of sorrow because full of 
 sin. All blessings in man's economy are got from pains. 
 Happiness is the flower that grows from a thorn of sor- 
 row transformed by man's cultivation. The beautiful 
 myth which placed the golden apples of the Hesperides 
 
310 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 in a garden guarded by dragons, is an allegory illustra- 
 tive of the great human fact, that not till we have slain 
 the dragons of selfishness and sloth can we obtain any of 
 the golden successes of life. Supposing it were possible 
 that we could obtain the objects of our desire without 
 any toil or trouble, we should not enjoy them. To 
 benefit us really, they must be the growths of our own 
 self-denial and labour. And this is the great lesson 
 which the miracles of our Lord, wrought in the manner 
 in which they were, unfolded. They teach us that, in both 
 temporal and spiritual things, we should not so throw 
 ourselves upon the providence or grace of God as to 
 neglect the part we have ourselves to act, that God 
 crowns every honest and faithful effort of man with 
 success. " Blessed is every one that feareth the Lord ; 
 that walketh in His ways. For thou shalt eat the labour 
 of thine hands; happy shalt thou be, and it shall be 
 well with thee." 
 
 But the miracles of our Lord were also wrought as the 
 result of His own toil and sorrow. As they fell in with 
 the ordinary ways of providence in the case of others, so 
 they did in His own case. We are accustomed to think 
 that His mighty works cost Him no exertion, that they 
 were accomplished by a simple exercise of will. But He 
 Himself told the disciples the secret of His wonder-work- 
 ing, when on- one occasion they asked Him why they 
 failed in casting out the evil spirit from the demoniacal 
 child. " This kind cometh only by fasting and prayer." 
 They thought that they could have cast him out by a 
 single word, as Satan thought that Christ could command 
 
XIIL ] LOSS AND GAIN IN MIRACLES. 311 
 
 the stones to be made bread. They mistook both the 
 motive and the means by which miracles were performed. 
 They would have exorcised the evil spirit with as little 
 expenditure of labour and self-denial as possible, and 
 without any regard to the state of the lunatic child, or 
 their own state. They would have given the boon which 
 she craved at once to the Syro-phenician woman, in 
 order to get rid of her importunities. But Jesus showed 
 them that not thus could miracles be performed. Just 
 as in the sphere of mechanics, there must be an equiva- 
 lent in time or force expended to the amount of work 
 done ; if there be a saving of time, there must be a losing 
 of force, and vice versa. The pulley that lifts up the 
 enormous weight, gives an equivalent in loss of time for 
 the gain of power ; and so in all the mechanical appli- 
 ances of man ; and so in all the arts and relations of life. 
 There must in every case be loss for gain. In the sweat 
 of a man's face shall he eat bread. By the bruising of 
 his own heel, he shall bruise the many-headed hydra of 
 the world's evil. And the miracles of Christ were no 
 exception to this great law of life. Not by a simple word 
 of arbitrary power did He perform them, but by the power 
 of personal self-denial and painful effort. They were 
 wrought as the result of the closest sympathy with the 
 condition of the sufferer. He paid the full price for them 
 in self-sacrifice. The disciples and the multitude saw the 
 open reward in the glory of the miracle ; but they did not 
 see or know the secret prayer, the fasting and fainting, the 
 strong crying and tears alone before God which preceded 
 them. As Jacob wrestled with God at Pen i el in secret, 
 
312 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 and the unexpected reconciliation with his brother on 
 the morrow was the open reward ; as every Christian 
 who dwells in the secret place of the Most High, has the 
 open reward which astonishes every one in the victories 
 and immunities mentioned in the gist Psalm; so Christ 
 Himself, made in all things like unto His brethren, was 
 enabled to perform His wonderful works as the open 
 result of long, lonely hours of fasting and prayer in the 
 desert and on the mountain. 
 
 Scripture more than once lifts the veil and gives us a 
 momentary glimpse of the struggle before the triumph 
 the loss before the gain the suffering before the glory. 
 It reveals to us that Jesus was moved with compassion 
 for the multitude when He fed them for the widow of 
 Nain when He restored her son to life for the leper 
 when He put forth His hand and touched him and said, 
 " I will, be thou clean," while by this contact, He 
 Himself, according to the ceremonial law, became un- 
 clean. It tells us that He looked forth on the Pharisees 
 with anger, being grieved at the hardness of their hearts, 
 when He healed the man with the withered hand. He 
 looked up to heaven and sighed, when He said to the 
 deaf and dumb man in Galilee, "Ephphatha; that is, Be 
 opened." Three times we are told that before Lazarus 
 was raised from the dead, Jesus was deeply moved. 
 " He groaned in the spirit, and was troubled ; " " He 
 wept." "Jesus again groaning in Himself cometh to the 
 grave." Not by any magical effluence, not by any exer- 
 cise of arbitrary will, costing Him nothing, did the Lord 
 of Life recall the vanished life to the corpse of His 
 
xni.} LOSS AND GAIN IN MIRACLES. 313 
 
 buried friend. On the contrary, it seems as if the very 
 greatness of the miracle required a correspondingly great 
 expenditure of sorrow and self-conflict. The same 
 thought, too, is suggested by the " loud voice " with which 
 Jesus cried, " Lazarus, come forth." More effort, as it 
 were, was needed to raise him who had been four days 
 in the grave, than was expended in raising the daughter 
 of Jairus, or the widow of Nain's son, who were newly 
 dead for His summons to them was in a low and gentle 
 voice. When the woman's touch of faith drew healing 
 virtue from Him, He felt the loss a loss of energy to 
 Him equivalent to the gain of health to her. In short, 
 in every miracle the outward glory was the result of an 
 inward suffering. As St. Matthew says, " When the even 
 was come, they brought unto Him many that were 
 possessed with devils : and He cast out the spirits with 
 His word, and healed all that were sick : that it might be 
 fulfilled which was spoken by Esaias the prophet, saying, 
 Himself took our infirmities, and bare our sicknesses." 
 His miracles were significantly called " works," and were 
 therefore placed in the same category with man's labours, 
 and subject to the same law. " In sorrow in the sweat of 
 thy face shalt thou eat bread." He bruised the serpent's 
 head through the bruising of His own heel. He won 
 back all that Adam lost, not by His crown of glory, but 
 by His cross of shame not by separating Himself from 
 the common lot of humanity and falling back upon His 
 power as God, but by making Himself one with us, and 
 thus entering into the fellowship of the penalty which 
 man's sin had entailed. 
 
3 H THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 The miracles of Jesus were not creations out of nothing. 
 He did not manifest Himself in them as a Creator, but 
 as a Redeemer. There is not a single instance of His 
 furnishing a new member when an old one had been lost. 
 All His miracles required a fulcrum in objects already 
 existing for their operation. There was a blind eye to 
 open, a withered hand to restore, a dead body to re- 
 suscitate, a storm to calm, a meal to multiply. They 
 invariably made use of old materials raised the former 
 state of things to a grander platform. The works of the 
 devil in man and in nature were to be destroyed, but 
 the fundamental identity of man and nature was to be 
 faithfully preserved. Christ's new creation is just the re- 
 storation of God's image in man, and God's goodness in 
 nature. His miracles therefore, as actual parts of the great 
 work of the restitution of all things beginnings and speci- 
 mens of that new genesis under which all old things shall 
 pass away and all things become new were not viola- 
 tions of nature's laws, but deliverances of the original per- 
 fection of nature and human nature from the limitations 
 and defilements of sin, from the bondage of corruption 
 under which they groaned. The presence of the Second 
 Adam in our world was just like the presence of the first 
 in the primaeval world. The birth of the first Adam was 
 miraculous, and therefore the works which he performed 
 were miraculous, in the sense that they implied the exer- 
 cise of higher powers than those which were found in 
 nature before. But all that he did, though above nature, 
 was no contradiction of nature no violation of the 
 system by means of which it had for unnumbered ages 
 
xiii.] LOSS AND GAIN IN MIRACLES. 315 
 
 carried on its operations. He as the archetype of all 
 prior forms the crowning point of the world to which 
 its various changes had reference, and in whom the whole 
 mundane system was, as it were, gathered together into 
 one gave intelligent meaning and force to the blind 
 order of nature. His mastery over the material things of 
 earth was the mastery of intelligent will and intellectual 
 and moral purpose, and was designed of God to carry 
 out the great end of the world's perfection, towards which 
 all things were working together unintelligently and in a 
 lower sphere from the beginning. And so in a higher 
 degree it was with the Second Adam. His appearance 
 in the world was still more miraculous, and therefore 
 more wonderful works did show themselves by Him. 
 He came to carry on with unfaltering power and unerring 
 wisdom the work of the world's perfection, which man 
 had not only failed to perform, but had marred and de- 
 graded by his sin. But even the miracles of the Second 
 Adam, the Lord from heaven, though above the nature 
 which had been blighted and impoverished, were not 
 contrary to it. The great miracle of the Incarnation, 
 upon which all our Saviour's miracles hang, was an un- 
 mistakeable proof of this ; for it was an incorporation of 
 Deity with the works of His hands. In the first creation 
 God wrought outside and simply as the Creator of all 
 things, but, in the new creation, God was most intimately 
 associated with His material works. In Christ the union 
 of the Creator with creation was not a mere union of 
 proxy or semblance, but a real union. He was the 
 glorious and perfect Creator and the glorious and perfect 
 
316 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 creature, the Son of God and the Son of man, the image 
 of "the invisible God and the first-born of every creature. 
 He was before all things, and in Him all things consisted. 
 This Incarnation is a -perpetual miracle, for He still wears 
 our human form, and completes our salvation in the very 
 same nature in which" He had wrought it out on earth. 
 Nature by this union was perfected and sublimated, not 
 confused and destroyed. And therefore all the miracles 
 of the Incarnation were not contradictions of nature, or 
 confusions of order, or even abnormal or eccentric forms 
 of growth, but, on the contrary, revelations of the true 
 order of nature manifestations of the true law of life. 
 They were tokens of the presence of One who, in His 
 person and work, came to fulfil all law the moral law, 
 written on the tables of stone ; and the physical law, 
 written on the materials of which these tables were 
 composed. 
 
 Nature is ever witnessing to the beauty and harmony 
 that lie deep down at its heart, to the blessing of " very 
 goodness " bestowed upon it by its Creator. Our Saviour 
 drew the attention of His disciples to this on every suit- 
 able occasion, and particularly in those discourses in 
 which He spoke of the lilies, the grass of the field, and 
 the fowls of heaven. Science is revealing year by year 
 to us more and more of this inherent, deep-seated order 
 and loveliness. From these qualities of nature, the 
 signet marks of the Almighty, we derive all our natural 
 theology, our beautiful and interesting arguments from 
 design and from final causes. They have been in a 
 great measure overlaid, concealed, and thwarted in their 
 
L OSS AND GAIN IN MIR A CLES. 3 1 7 
 
 manifestations by the presence and pressure of the alien 
 principle of evil. Nature under this hostile principle is 
 striving to develop its ideals of perfection, like a patch of 
 grass in a field striving to grow under a stone. Lift up that 
 stone, and you will find every root, stem, and blade 
 flattened and blanched, dwarfed and distorted, but still 
 endeavouring to preserve the ideal shape. Our Saviour's 
 miracles lifted the curse from nature, let in heaven's 
 sunshine upon its pale and crushed forms, and allowed 
 them to develop themselves freely, and fulfil their pur- 
 poses fully. They brought order out of confusion, light 
 out of darkness, health out of disease, calm out of storm, 
 abundance out o poverty, life out of death ; and thus we 
 perceive their true harmony with God's scheme of grace 
 to man, with the purpose of the laws and covenants of 
 the Old Testament, and the precepts and principles of 
 the New. Thus we perceive their true harmony also with 
 the purpose and design of God in the creation, and with 
 the development of nature; which lies not in a down ward 
 course of disorder and degradation, but in an upward 
 course of greater beauty and brighter glory. As the pro- 
 cess of crystallization, by which the amorphous mineral 
 mass is changed into the diamond or the ruby, testifies to 
 no new law, to no broken order, but is a manifestation of 
 the underlying harmony and beauty of matter, so the 
 miracles of Christ are crystallizations, most lovely and 
 most rare, of the world's chaos of disorder and sin. As 
 the face of nature speaks of no interruption or violation 
 of its laws, but simply manifests its real nature, when its 
 winter sterility breaks out into the glory of April flowers, 
 
3i8 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 so the miracles of Christ are the first pure and lovely 
 flowers of the spring of grace, testifying to the power of 
 the Sun of Righteousness that will go on to develop the 
 true life of earth and the true life of man, and make the 
 winter wilderness a summer garden of the Lord. 
 
 The miracles of Jesus; I have said, were the beginnings 
 of a new and higher order of things. They inaugurated 
 the new creation of redemption ; and therefore, like the 
 almighty acts of the first six days of the world, they 
 cannot be repeated or imitated. But as acts of the new 
 creation, we can go on working and developing in the 
 nobler course they have indicated. As beginnings of a 
 new order of things, we can act in harmony with the 
 higher laws which they reveal. We cannot create, but 
 we can work with the materials which have been prepared 
 for us. We cannot begin, but we can carry on what has 
 been begun. We cannot change water into wine or mul- 
 tiply loaves and fishes, but these miracles indicate that 
 the Divine energy displayed in them is still working 
 mightily although silently in us, both to will and to do of 
 His good pleasure. They show to us the reality of His 
 conquest over the limitations of the world ; they prove 
 that all the prophecies which describe the future palin- 
 genesis are possibilities ; they supply the link that con- 
 nects the weakness of man with the strength of God. 
 By the union of the Divine and human nature in Christ, 
 He was enabled to perform His wonderful works ; and 
 by faith in Him, union with Him, we, too, can have the 
 Godhead united with our humanity ; and, through Christ 
 strengthening us, do all things. It is a grand thought 
 
xiii.] LOSS AND GAIN IN MIRACLES. 319 
 
 suggested by a modern writer, that all the results of our 
 wonderful civilization have been the extensive carrying 
 out of what Jesus wrought intensively. He wound up, as 
 it were, in His miracles the spring of the machinery of the 
 world's destiny; and all the progress of the world since has 
 been the working down of this concentrated force. He 
 multiplied bread in connection with the people following 
 Him into the wilderness to hear His words, that through 
 the cultivation of man's spirit by Christianity the waste 
 places of the earth might also be cultivated, and famine 
 be unknown ; that the earth might yield her increase, 
 when all the people should praise the Lord. He healed 
 the sick, that " in the reverence for man's body which the 
 Gospel teaches in the sympathy for all forms of suffering 
 which flows out of it in the sure advance of all worthier 
 science which it implies and ensures in and by aid of 
 all this, these miraculous cures might unfold themselves 
 into the whole art of Christian medicine, into all the 
 alleviations and removals of pain and disease which are 
 so rare in heathen and so frequent in Christian lands." 
 He stilled the storm and walked upon the sea that, in the 
 calm courage and skill which the religion of Jesus in- 
 spires, man's spirit might have the lordship of the winds 
 and waves, and Christian nations might build their noble 
 fleets and guide them over the trackless ocean, and 
 spread the blessings of Christian civilization over the 
 whole earth. Once, the Bible tells us, the Holy Land 
 was plastic to man's will. All nature there was obedient 
 to the people who were obedient to God. Its rain and 
 dew, the setting of its sun, the flow of its waters, the 
 
320 THE MINISTRY GF NATURE. [CHAP. xm. 
 
 increase of its harvests, were all dependent upon the 
 faith of Israel. And this state of things, the miracles of 
 Jesus teach us, was not unique, but representative. The 
 miracle without will still rise to meet faith the miracle 
 within. Nature still will manifest her sympathy with 
 grace. All things will be possible to him that believeth. 
 And it needs only that the people should be all righteous 
 to give to man that dominion over the whole earth which 
 Israel possessed over its ancient heritage. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 REJUVENESCENCE. 
 
 " Who satisfieth thy mouth with good things ; so that thy youth 
 is renewed like the eagle's." PSALM ciii. 5. 
 
 1C* VER since our first parents were banished from the 
 Tree of Life, by whose blessed medicine they were 
 kept in undecayed vigour, mankind have sought a substi- 
 tute for it in ways of their own. In Greek mythology 
 we read the story of Medea, who, by the magic of her 
 incantations, restored the aged to the bloom of youthful 
 beauty. In Eastern fables we are charmed with descrip- 
 tions of the Vijara Nadi, the ageless river, which makes 
 the old young again by only seeing it ; and of the spring 
 of immortality flowing in caverns below the earth, and 
 guarded by the pundit Kabib, where the bodies of those 
 who bathe in it shine as if anointed with oil, and are 
 fragrant as with the scent of violets. The South Sea 
 islander, seeing the sun sinking, dim and weary, in the 
 western waves, and rising again from the eastern main 
 fresh and bright, conceived the beautiful myth of " the 
 
 Y 
 
322 THE MINISTR Y OF NA TURE. [CHAP. 
 
 water of enduring life," which removes all deformity and 
 decrepitude from those who plunge beneath its silvery 
 surface. Among the Aleutian islanders the legend is 
 current that in the early ages of the world men were im- 
 mortal, and when they grew old had but to spring from 
 a high mountain into a lake, whence they came forth in 
 renewed youth. In the Mediaeval romances we are 
 familiar with the " Fountain of Youth," and with the 
 wanderings of pilgrims in search of its miraculously- 
 healing waters wonderful and adventurous as those in 
 quest of the Sangreal, or the treasure hid at the foot of 
 the rainbow. In Holy Writ the scene of one of the most 
 striking of our Saviour's miracles was laid beside the 
 Pool of Bethesda, in whose porches lay a great multitude 
 of impotent folk, of blind, halt, and withered, waiting 
 for the moving of the waters. " For an angel went down 
 at a certain season into the pool, and troubled the water : 
 whosoever then first after the troubling of the water 
 stepped in, was made whole of whatsoever disease 
 he had." By aid of the "philosopher's stone" and 
 the " elixir vitae " the alchemists and physicians of the 
 Middle Ages sought to ward off the infirmities of old age, 
 and to restore the freshness and fairness of youth. Nor 
 has this fond dream of humanity altogether vanished in 
 our more prosaic days. There is still the same deep-felt 
 and wide-spread desire to preserve and restore the bloom 
 and vigour of life's early years ; and in spite of all our 
 scientific culture and material pursuits, in not a few in- 
 stances, the charms and potions of superstitious ages are 
 still used for this purpose. 
 
xiv.] REJIVENESCEXCE. 323 
 
 Rejuvenescence is the one great poetic idea of the 
 universe. It underlies all the processes of nature ; it is 
 the end and mode of all its operations. All the pheno- 
 mena of the spiritual and material worlds are illustrations 
 of it. Nature, as its name signifies, is always about to 
 be born ; always going back from maturity to the natal 
 state, from the end to the beginning, ever renewing its 
 youth with the process of the suns. The dream of 
 humanity is the fact of creation ; the longings that in the 
 human world have been expressed in myths and ro- 
 mances have been symbolized in the objects of nature, 
 in the epic poem of the seasons and the ages. Geology 
 is the history of rejuvenescence on our earth. It shows 
 to us how, throughout its time-worlds, the old has given 
 place to the new, and out of former combinations new 
 ones have arisen. It reveals to us continual disintegra- 
 tion counterbalanced by continual construction ; decay 
 everywhere followed by renewal ; so that all things have 
 continued as they were from the beginning, and the earth 
 looks as young to-day as it did on the first morning of 
 creation. 
 
 The surface of the earth has been elevated, by succes- 
 sive stages, from a primitive state of chaos to the present 
 arrangement of sea and land. Again and again it sank 
 beneath the ocean, to emerge after a time quickened into 
 a new life born again, remodelled. Exhausted by bear- 
 ing countless generations of plants and animals, it re- 
 covered its fertilizing principles under the baptism of the 
 great waters, and became fit for bearing new orders of 
 life when the sea changed its bed. Continents and 
 
 Y 2 
 
324 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 islands arose out of the sea, young and full of vigour ; 
 they became clothed with animal and plant life; they 
 grew in beauty and luxuriance ; they did their appointed 
 work matured and died, as it were : and the great tidal 
 wave which overwhelmed them exposed virgin lands pre- 
 pared for the production of new races, destined to go 
 through the same process of growth and decay. By this 
 grand method of cyclical rotation, Nature secured in the 
 wide field of the globe the same beneficial results which 
 the Nile annually produces by its ebb and flow over 
 Egypt ; and which the farmer obtains on his glebe by 
 allowing the land to lie fallow, and shifting his crop from 
 field to field. In this way also, by the alternate action 
 of igneous and aqueous forces, the globe was articulated 
 into its present shape, and developed the highly-organized 
 continent of Europe, so admirably fitted by its physical 
 construction to be the home of the foremost race of 
 mankind. And as a plant lengthens its stem, and re- 
 peats its foliage more abundantly and luxuriantly year 
 after year, until at last it bursts into flower, so Nature, in 
 carrying out her grand scheme of organic evolution, in- 
 troduced new races of plants and animals, of a higher and 
 yet higher order, corresponding to the progress of the 
 cosmical changes ; until in the end the animal kingdom 
 produced the bee and cow, and made the land to flow 
 with milk and honey, and the vegetable kingdom blos- 
 somed into the rose and the lily, filling all the air with 
 the beauty and fragrance of Eden. 
 
 The history of the earth as a whole is repeated by 
 each of its component parts. Fragments of limestone 
 
xiv ] REJUVENESCENCE. 325 
 
 rocks on mountain summits mimic in a remarkable 
 manner the cliffs out of which they have been weathered. 
 Mr. Whymper, for instance, found the piece of mica- 
 schist which he broke from the loftiest point of the 
 Matterhorn, an exact miniature of the whole peak ; the 
 same atmospheric causes which sculptured the huge 
 homogeneous mass having at the same time shaped 
 each of its parts. The changes through which each 
 plant and animal passes in its embryonic develop- 
 ment are similar to those through which the whole 
 earth and its inhabitants have passed in the course 
 of its geological history. All organic beings begin 
 existence at the bottom of the scale, and, taking on 
 one type of life after another, finally assume the parent 
 type. The perfect state of one organism is but the 
 embryonic condition of another ; the highest forms being 
 the sum of all the lower series. The body of the 
 mammal is the archetype of all the inferior animals down 
 to the monad, and is in itself a representation of the 
 whole animal kingdom. The oak-tree exhibits all the 
 grand peculiarities of structure upon which the classifica- 
 tion of plants is founded. Its wood is exogenous, grow- 
 ing from within outwards ; its bark is endogenous, growing 
 from without inwards, which is the reason of its rugged 
 and withered appearance ; while its roots are acrogenous, 
 growing at their extremities. Thus all the distinc- 
 tive features of the vegetable kingdom are embraced 
 in the oak. The larva of a caterpillar may be con- 
 sidered as an independently existing embryo, which 
 nourishes itself instead of being fed by its mother, and 
 
326 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 undergoes, in its progress towards the butterfly state, 
 transformations externally before our eyes, similar to 
 those which in other creatures are accomplished unseen 
 within the maternal organism. Applying the analogy to 
 the whole world of life, it may be said that Nature ex- 
 hibits externally before our eyes the gradual development 
 within her womb of the vegetable and animal kingdoms 
 as an organic whole, by the introduction of successive 
 animal and vegetable species. These various forms, 
 however, are distinct beings; not the same beings in 
 different stages of growth, as in the case of the insect. 
 The link by which they are united is not the consequence 
 of direct lineage or parental descent not founded in 
 the laws of reproduction, but in the councils of the 
 Almighty, carrying out a great work of art conceived 
 in eternity and elaborated throughout all time. Nature 
 renews her youth, not by the extensive and varied deve- 
 lopment of one and the same primeval form, but by the 
 introduction in full perfection of new forms, which will 
 sooner part with their life than with their specific cha- 
 racter. I believe that Nature has progressed in time as 
 she progresses in space. In passing from the summit to 
 the base of a tropical mountain, or from the poles to the 
 equator, we pass from one geographical flora and fauna, 
 from one species to another, but we observe no genetic 
 connection between them ; so in passing from the oldest 
 geological to the present fauna and flora we pass from 
 one set of species to another ; but the change has been 
 effected, not by transmutation, but by substitution. 
 The cell is the organic atom, the basis of all life. It 
 
xiv.] REJUVENESCENCE. 327 
 
 is the epitome of the great globe, a miniature world 
 having its summer and winter, its day and night, its life, 
 death, and renewal ; mimicking in its changes and pro- 
 cesses those of the vast sphere in which it is included. 
 Into this little world, however, the senses of man cannot 
 enter. How the grain of sand becomes a cell we cannot 
 comprehend. The construction of the first rounded 
 bridge between the dead, inert world and the world of 
 life is one ol the profotindest mysteries of creation. It 
 is capable of an independent existence, as in the red- 
 snow plant, which performs within itself the whole series 
 of vital functions, running through its entire vegetative 
 development in a single cell. The rejuvenescence of 
 this cell consists first in the decay and reconstruction of 
 its walls and contents in the process of growth; and then 
 in its multiplication by self-division. All the immense 
 variety of forms, colours, and conditions in the vegetable 
 kingdom result from the combination of cells ; and hence 
 the phenomena of growth in the higher plants, which 
 consist in the changes and multiplication of individual 
 cells, are all phenomena of rejuvenescence. The indi- 
 vidual cells interwoven in the totality of the organism of 
 the higher plants lead the same kind of life there, 
 undergo the same transformation and renovation, as 
 when forming isolated unicellular plants. In the tree 
 the cells, as soon as produced, die and give birth to 
 others ; but they do not decay and disappear into gases 
 and mineral substances. They are enclosed in the 
 tissues of the new cells, and thus preserved from the 
 weather, which would otherwise decompose them. They 
 
328 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 afford soil and mechanical support to the new cells. The 
 new cells in their turn give birth to other cells, and in 
 their turn die ; and their offspring encloses them again in 
 their protective mantle. And thus the growing tree goes 
 on and stops, grows old and becomes young again, ends 
 and begins, until it has reached its highest ideal of form 
 and its longest term of existence. It is built up by a 
 constant process of interstitional rejuvenescence. In 
 the annual plant, when the seed is produced, the multi- 
 plication of cells ceases, and the plant dies ; but it re- 
 juvenizes itself by the seed which it sheds producing the 
 plant anew. In the perennial plant, the multiplication 
 of cells ceases each year with the formation of the bud ; 
 but the cells already formed have a more enduring 
 subsistence, and therefore afford soil and mechanical 
 support to the new growth of the bud. The growth 
 of the annual plant is thus from the seed to the seed 
 again; and of the perennial plant from the bud to 
 the bud again. 
 
 Every spring there is a rejuvenescence of the vegetable 
 kingdom. But although most apparent at this season, 
 showing itself in the tender verdure of green grass, and 
 fresh beauty of bright leaves and blossoms, it is not the 
 work altogether of spring. This magic clothing of dead 
 boughs with foliage, and bare earth with grassy carpets, 
 is not the result of the few sunny days of April in 
 which it comes so suddenly into view. The labour of 
 renovation begins at an earlier period ; and the breath 
 of spring only unfolds that which was preparing in 
 silence and secrecy during the dark chill season of 
 
xiv.] REJUVENESCENCE. 329 
 
 winter. For, as Dr. Braun* says, in proportion as the 
 vegetable world advances in summer and autumn, in 
 shoot and leaf and wood, in flower and fruit, and all the 
 outward manifestations of life, so does it simultaneously 
 retreat into itself in the formation of buds and seed, to 
 prepare the germs of new life. Thus in August we find 
 in the terminal and lateral buds of the oak the rudiments 
 of the leaves destined for next summer ; in the twin ter- 
 minal buds of the lilac, not only these, but also the rich 
 thyrse of blossom for the future year ; and, strangest of 
 all, in the adder's-tongue, a fern which unfolds annually 
 only one leaf and spike, the bud hidden underground in 
 May contains not only the leaf and spike for the next 
 season, but also the rudiments of the leaf and spike for 
 the season after that. Winter puts plants into the deep 
 sleep which allows this rib to be taken out of their side. 
 It prepares for the rejuvenescence of spring. Nature 
 then withdraws into her recesses, and fashions indoors 
 as it were, in the hiding-places of her power, the leaf 
 and the blossom, which come out when the summer 
 shines. Nature looks dead in winter because her life is 
 gathered into her heart. She withers the plant down to 
 the root that she may grow it up again fairer and 
 stronger. She calls her family together within her in- 
 most home to prepare them for being scattered abroad 
 upon the face of the earth. And it is curious to notice 
 that the colouring of spring is like the colouring of 
 autumn. The first sprout of the hawthorn-hedge is of 
 
 * See Dr. Braun's admirable "Verjiingung der Pflanzen," trans- 
 lated for the Ray Society by the late Professor Henfrey. 
 
330 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 the same reddish hue as the last withered leaf that 
 clings to the oldest branch. In a rich glossy olive hue 
 the ash-tree unfolds its young foliage in April, and 
 sheds its aged foliage in September. The autumnal 
 tints of the oak are prefigured by those of its vernal 
 promise ; its leaves come in and go out in a crimson 
 blaze. As Nature begins, so she ends ; her extremes 
 meet. Each birth is a prophecy of death, and each 
 death a prophecy of birth. 
 
 The illustrations of rejuvenescence which zoology 
 affords are still more interesting, because connected with 
 a more complex organization and a higher function of 
 life. Animal growth differs very widely from vegetable 
 growth. The vegetable grows by means of additional 
 cells ; the animal by means of substituted cells. The 
 cells of the plant die as soon as they are produced 
 and have served their purpose, but they are retained 
 in the structure and help to build it up; there being 
 no provision made in the economy of the plant for 
 the expulsion of dead cells. The cells of the animal 
 on the other hand also die, but they are expelled from 
 the body, and new ones take their place. The new cells 
 of the vegetable are added to the dead cells ; and 
 living and dead cells together make up the plant. A 
 tree, for instance, has only one generation of living 
 plants on it, but as many generations of dead built up 
 in it as the tree is old. Only each year's growth is living ; 
 the rest is all dead heart-wood, which would decay, were 
 it not that it is protected from the weather by the living 
 tissue outside. On the other hand, the new cells of the 
 
xiv.] REJUVENESCENCE. 331 
 
 animal structure* are not added to, but substituted for, the 
 old, which are consequently eliminated from the body. 
 The sap of the plant is employed to add new tissues to 
 the structure , the circulation of the blood in the animal 
 is employed in repairing the old tissues. It may be said, 
 indeed, that in the young growing animal, there is a com- 
 bination of the two modes of growth. By the animal 
 mode it retains the stability of its system ; its body com- 
 ing back at the end of twenty-four hours to the same 
 condition from which it started, and all the old cells 
 being transformed into new cells. By the vegetable 
 mode of growth, it accumulates that small variation and 
 sum of uncompensated forces, which constitute the 
 growth and progressive development of its body ; new 
 cells being added to the old. Every movement of the 
 animal's body is caused by the destruction of so much 
 vital tissue. This effete substance is removed in breath- 
 ing, and in the various excretions of the body ; while 
 the circulation of the blood is continually repairing the 
 waste. The animal thus grows and maintains its sta- 
 bility by a constant process of rejuvenescence. In youth 
 the restorative process outruns the destructive, new cells 
 are added to the old, and the animal consequently grows 
 after the manner of a vegetable ; in maturity the con- 
 structive and destructive forces are equally balanced, and 
 new cells are substituted for the old, according to the 
 distinctively animal type ; while in old age the destruc- 
 tive process outruns the restorative, and the animal conse- 
 quently decays and finally dies, approximating to the type 
 of the mineral which is disintegrated by the weather. 
 
332 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 But besides this continual molecular change which 
 takes place in the animal body, there are certain great 
 changes occurring in it which are conspicuous to the eye, 
 and which are also changes of rejuvenescence, corre- 
 sponding to the vernal changes of plants. Many animals 
 have periodical and most curious replacements of entire 
 organs and parts of their structure. Every one is 
 familiar with the process of moulting in birds, in which 
 the old feathers drop off every year and new ones are 
 formed ; this change in the plumage being accompanied 
 by corresponding constitutional changes. It is an 
 ancient fable that the eagle is able to renew his youth 
 when very old, and poetical allusion is made to it in the 
 1 03rd Psalm ; but this idea is doubtless founded in reality 
 on the great longevity of the bird, and its power, in com- 
 mon with other birds, of moulting its plumage periodically, 
 and so increasing its strength and activity. Lizards, 
 serpents, and spiders statedly cast their entire skin, and 
 are furnished with a new one. The crab even replaces 
 its stomach, forming a new one every year and casting 
 away the old one. Just as plants rejuvenize by the 
 annual renewal of their leaves and flowers, so animals 
 rejuvenize by the annual renewal of some of their parts 
 or organs. Perhaps the most striking illustration of 
 rejuvenescence in the animal kingdom is the transforma- 
 tion of the sluggish crawling caterpillar into the active- 
 winged butterfly, and of the headless and footless maggot 
 into the highly articulated fly. The winged state of the 
 insect is analogous to the efflorescence of the plant. The 
 butterfly is just the blossom of the caterpillar. For as 
 
XIV.] REJUVENESCENCE. 333 
 
 the blossom of the plant is formed for the purpose of 
 producing the seed by which the species is perpetuated ; 
 so the butterfly is developed by the caterpillar in order 
 to lay eggs and produce future caterpillars ; this being its 
 only occupation, many kinds having no mouth to eat. 
 And it is curious to notice how closely nature followed 
 the type of a papilionaceous plant in making the insect. 
 As the butterfly corresponds to the flower, so does the 
 caterpillar correspond to the pod, and the chrysalis to the 
 stem, from which comes forth again the flower. Blossom 
 and pod and stem are thus for ever put forth in succes- 
 sion by the living flower. No less striking is the vernal 
 rejuvenescence of birds, in harmony with that of nature 
 around them. Their richer plumage answers to the 
 beauty of the spring buds ; and their sweeter song to 
 the fragrance of the blossoms. And as the purpose of 
 the flower is to produce seed, and of the bird to produce 
 young, and thus in both cases to rejuvenize the species ; 
 so in this design they prefigure the beauties and sancti- 
 ties of human love in its bridal spring. The final meta- 
 morphosis which man undergoes at the period of puberty, 
 with its new physical and psychical endowments, corre- 
 sponds to the passage of insects to the perfect or imago 
 state, and the spring rejuvenescence of birds. 
 
 " In the spring a fuller crimson comes upon the robin's breast ; 
 In the spring the wanton lapwing gets himself another crest ; 
 In the spring a livelier iris changes on the burnished dove ; 
 In the spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love." 
 
 In all the phenomena of rejuvenescence, there is a 
 depression of life preceding the new upraising. The song 
 
334 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 of the blackbird and thrush, and the bright crimson of 
 the robin's breast in spring, were preceded by the long 
 silence and the dull russet hues of winter. The new 
 growth of perennial plants commences with bud-scales, 
 which are leaves of the lowest formation ; and the new 
 growth of annual plants, with cotyledon leaves, also of the 
 most primitive construction. These transition or lowest 
 leaves in dicotyledons are parallel-veined like the perfect 
 leaves of the monocotyledons ; while the leaves belong- 
 ing to the most advanced structure of the inflorescence 
 come back in typical character to the cotyledons and 
 bud-scales of the earliest formation. The germander 
 speedwell of our waysides droops its erect shoots after 
 flowering, and strikes root in the earth, to be renewed 
 again in the following year and bear flowering branches. 
 The wood anemone prolongs for several years its 
 creeping subterraneous growth, putting forth alternately 
 leaves of the lowest and leaves of the highest type, 
 before it rises into an upright stem, producing the 
 well-known three-leaved whorl of perfect foliage and 
 the beautiful drooping flower. Our native orchids by 
 the yearly decay of one of their two bulbs form a 
 fresh one on the opposite side, and thus the flower 
 marches slowly onwards in the meadow. The blossom 
 of the lily springs from a sheath or leaf of the lowest 
 type. The plant contracts in the seed that it may arise 
 in the stem, and again contracts in the calyx that it 
 may expand in the blossom and fruit. The silkworm 
 moth comes out of the cocoon which was produced by 
 the decomposition or retrograde action of its own tissues 
 
xiv.] REJUVENESCENCE. 335 
 
 in the caterpillar state. By all these depressions or 
 recoils of life, an impulse is communicated by which the 
 organism attains a more elevated grade. The force 
 necessary for organization is the result of disorganiza- 
 tion ; and death and destruction are the necessary con- 
 ditions of life and development. 
 
 Passing on to man, who sums up in himself all ani- 
 mal and vegetable types of structure and function, and 
 connects them with the spiritual world, whose existence 
 is the aim to which the infinite rejuvenescences through- 
 out all nature strive, we find that his body is subject to 
 the same laws of growth which rule in the bodies of 
 other animals. He, too, grows by the substitution of new 
 particles for the old. So thorough and complete is this 
 change, that in the course of seven years it amounts to 
 the entire renewal of the whole body. The body be- 
 comes young again every day and hour by the molecular 
 change of its substance through the disintegration of 
 work and the repair of food. It becomes young again 
 once every seven years by the entire renovation of all its 
 materials. But besides this particular and general mole- 
 cular renovation, there are also periodical renewals of 
 some organ or conspicuous portion of the body itself. 
 The body renews its youth through fever, producing new 
 hair and new skin, and becoming stronger and healthier 
 afterwards. Occasionally an old man or woman resumes 
 the external signs of youth. There are numerous 
 authentic instances on record of the cutting of new teeth, 
 of the growth of hair, of a return of the power of suck- 
 ling in extreme old age. Scripture informs us that issue 
 
336 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 was bom to Abraham and Sarah, though Abraham said 
 in his heart, when the angel told him of the predicted 
 birth, " Shall a child be born to him that is an hundred 
 years old ; and shall Sarah that is ninety years old bear ? " 
 The parents of John the Baptist were both aged ; and 
 when the angel announced the birth, Zacharias said, 
 "Whereby shall I know this, for my wife is well-stricken 
 in years ? " Indeed, such examples of rejuvenescence in 
 old age are so numerous that they have been systematized 
 into a distinct department of physiology.* 
 
 Sleep is one of the most wonderful phenomena of re- 
 juvenescence. It is through sleep that worn-out nature is 
 recruited and renews its youth. As the French proverb 
 says: "He who sleeps, eats." Our bodies return in 
 sleep every night to the ante-natal state, in order that 
 our exhausted energies may be concentrated and re- 
 freshed, and, obtaining a new draught from the great 
 Source of all life, we may issue every day from the womb 
 of the morning new creatures. We sink to a lower con- 
 dition of development analogous to that of the vegetable, 
 that we may rise to a more perfect animal condition than 
 before. The inner formative processes do not rest 
 during this depression and retreat, but rather act the 
 more vigorously, as they do in the plant, because of the 
 absence of all the distractions and interferences of self- 
 consciousness. So, too, the mind in sleep relaxes its 
 hold of the outward world, and becomes a mere passive 
 mirror to reflect its images and sensations in dreams; 
 
 * See "Ueber Viriliscenz und Rejuvenescenz thierischer Kb'rper," 
 by Dr. Mehliss of Leipsic. 
 
xiv.] REJUVENESCENCE. 337 
 
 but in this state of passivity it gathers itself into new 
 force into a renewed recollection of its specific purpose 
 and rearranges in an orderly manner all the confusions 
 and perplexities of its waking state. Hence the prudent 
 maxim which enjoins us to sleep overcome important 
 step or question is founded not only upon outward expe- 
 rience of life, but also upon inward physiological reasons. 
 Innumerable instances might be quoted in which problems 
 insoluble before going to bed had been clearly wrought 
 out by the mind during sleep ; and the result written 
 down by the unconscious somnambulist has astonished 
 him next morning. It is also through the soft soothing 
 sleep which occurs at the crisis of severe diseases that 
 the rejuvenescence of the body occurs. " If he sleep, 
 he shall do well," said the disciples regarding Lazarus. 
 The patient falls into the same state as the caterpillar 
 when it prepares the rejuvenized body for its future 
 resurrection into the butterfly. In this pupa-sleep this 
 chrysalis state as it were all his exhausted energies are 
 gathered in and restored, and he afterwards emerges into 
 a freer and more mobile existence. But there is one 
 organ of the body which seems never to sleep, and yet 
 wastes itself by its action, and needs to be repaired. 
 How is the heart rejuvenized? We explain the secret 
 of its apparently unceasing exercise of power by re- 
 ferring to its action of systole and diastole, its exact 
 rhythm of alternating contractions and dilatations. 
 Every contraction by which it forces blood into the 
 vessels is succeeded by an interval of rest of precisely 
 the same length ; and during this period of sleep, brief 
 
 z 
 
333 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 as it is, the changes that occurred during the contrac- 
 tion are repaired, and it becomes a new heart. 
 
 One day is an epitome of life's long day of threescore 
 years and ten. We pass every day through all the 
 changes of human experience. We are children in the 
 morning, with their fresh young bodies and feelings ; we 
 are middle-aged at noon, having seen an end of all 
 perfection ; we are old and weary and worn out at night. 
 So, too, every human being is a miniature of mankind ; for 
 just as we find the child, and the grown-up man, and the 
 aged person side by side in the same family and society, 
 so in the corporate structure of the individual we find 
 that youth and old age are not separate and successive 
 periods, but contemporaneous. All seasons with their 
 corresponding changes on the broad scale of the world 
 are synchronous : so all ages are synchronous on the 
 broad scale of society, and in the microcosm of the 
 individual. Throughout life the phenomena of youth 
 and age run side by side in the same person. If decay 
 attends upon age, so does it attend upon youth ; and if 
 youth is a beginning, so, too, is maturity. Many organs 
 have already become old, and lost their vitality before 
 birth. The child has old teeth the milk-teeth destined 
 to early destruction ; and young teeth wisdom-teeth 
 appear at a later age. The cotyledon and radical leaves of 
 plants wither away through age when the flowers are yet 
 in the bud, and the blossom becomes old and decays 
 when the fruit merely begins to form. The body of man 
 may be old, while his mind is merely in its first stage of 
 development. Indeed, so closely are youth and age inter- 
 
xiv] REJUVENESCENCE. 339 
 
 mingled in the same organism, that one of the most 
 difficult problems of physiology, as Dr. Braun has sug- 
 gested, is just this ** How are youth and age to be 
 distinguished ? When does youth cease and age begin ? 
 How do they pass into one another? and which is 
 the more perfect condition of life ? " 
 
 The mind rejuvenizes itself as well as the body. " It 
 is the youngest and yet the oldest existence in nature, 
 destined to attain in its last age its eternal youth 
 the freedom fitted to its essential nature." The heir 
 of all the ages, all the elder things, shall indeed serve 
 this younger. It is continually renewing itself in the 
 originalities of genius in the resuscitations of intellectual 
 life from its stereotyped monotony in the invention of 
 new methods of inquiry. The so-called heresies of 
 science, art, and literature, are in reality the rejuve- 
 nescence of mind seeking a new expression for its new 
 lift. Poetry keeps the mind ever young, brings it back 
 from the irksomeness of exhausted human invention to 
 the fresh freedom and beautiful simplicity of nature. 
 The poetical mind ever and anon touches its native 
 earth, and rebounds strengthened and ennobled. Every 
 new thought we acquire every mastery we gain over 
 truth is a renewal of our minds. So, too, with our hearts ! 
 Scripture speaks of a new heart, and we all know what 
 is meant by the youth of the heart, which may exist 
 even in extreme old age. One of the sweetest promises 
 connected with the "times of restitution," is that the 
 child shall die an hundred years old. To have the 
 child-heart amid the cares and sorrows of life, and the 
 
 Z 2 
 
340 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 infirmities of old age to have the same freshness and 
 elasticity of feeling, the same trustfulness of disposition 
 and magic power to extract an all-sufficing happiness 
 from the simplest things, which so peculiarly belong to 
 childhood to have them perpetuated and unimpaired 
 amid the changes of the years, who would not wish for 
 such a gift ? It may be said that the old myth of trans- 
 migration, of successive avatars, is true of our hearts, 
 for they pass through many lives, each with its own 
 opportunity of acquiring some new good, and casting 
 away the slough of some old evil. Whenever we return 
 from selfishness and worldliness to the tenderness 
 and self-forgetfulness of love; whenever a new and 
 noble emotion takes possession of us; whenever the 
 pressure of a sore trial passes away, or we are lifted by 
 faith and hope above it : in these experiences the heart 
 renews its youth. We go back to the freshness and fair- 
 ness of life's early days, and in the green pastures, and 
 beside the still waters upon which the valley of the 
 shadow of death through which we have passed has 
 opened our souls are restored, and we find the crocus 
 of spring blooming again in our happy autumn fields. 
 
 In conversion the soul becomes youthful. " Except 
 ye be converted, and become as little children, ye cannot 
 enter the kingdom of heaven." Of the host of Israel 
 it was the children and not the fathers who entered the 
 land of Canaan; and they entered that high mountain 
 land not by the highest pass, but at the lowest point in 
 the valley of the Jordan the deepest depression in the 
 world. And so it is by the deepest humility and con- 
 
XTV.] REJUVENESCENCE. 341 
 
 trition that we enter into the heavenly places in Christ 
 Jesus. It is not as a teacher come from God perfect- 
 ing our imperfect knowledge that we are to regard 
 Jesus, but as a Saviour saving us radically from sin 
 and death. It is not instruction that we need, but a 
 new birth of the water and of the Spirit in which a 
 complete cleansing shall take place regarding the past, 
 and a new spiritual life shall be communicated as regards 
 the future. It is not in the clear rivers in the uplands of 
 Damascus, but in the dark waters deep down in the 
 denies of Israel, that we are to wash away our spiritual 
 leprosy, to have our heart and life purified, and our 
 flesh made like unto the flesh of a little child. In 
 conversion the whole man is renewed ; the whole work 
 of the devil in man is destroyed ; all the effects of sin in 
 his whole nature eradicated. "If any man be in Christ 
 Jesus he is a new creature ; all old things have passed 
 away, and all things have become new." Body, soul, and 
 spirit are sanctified, and preserved blameless unto the 
 coming of Christ. " Then He is gracious unto him, and 
 saith, Deliver him from going down to the pit : I have 
 found a ransom. His flesh shall be fresher than a 
 child's : he shall return to the days of his youth." 
 
 Humanity rejuvenizes itself in the birth of every child; 
 and grows young again in the youth of its children. 
 Full of selfishness and falsehood of sorrow and evil 
 as is the world, it has, at least, one redeeming point in 
 the constant presence of children in it. This inspires 
 hope and sustains faith. It is the most powerful element 
 in human progress. Growing old ourselves, with hearts 
 
342 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 dry and withered, we take our little ones by the hand, 
 and traverse the wearisome, monotonous round of life 
 with them again, and find it all new. Our own character 
 fixed, our opinions become prejudices this young gene- 
 ration with plastic minds comes forward to carry on the 
 work of the world a few steps, and to become stereo- 
 typed in turn. In the rise and fall of nations, in the 
 birth and death of individuals, humanity rejuvenizes 
 itself. The individual and national life are parallel, for 
 the birth and death of an organic particle in the person 
 answers to the birth and death of an individual in the 
 nation. " Man is the archetype of society," and indi- 
 vidual development the model of social progress. Races 
 become old and effete, and yield the van of progress 
 to young races, with fresh enthusiastic blood in their 
 veins ; and those pestilences and famines that have 
 periodically occurred in history seem to have favoured 
 this renovation of mankind by cutting off the old and 
 feeble, and leaving only the strong and healthy to per- 
 petuate a more vigorous race. Humanity rejuvenizes 
 itself in the progress of civilization, which is disclosing 
 more and more of what is contained in human character 
 and capacities, and is a constant recollection of the 
 original destination of human life. 
 
 But the greatest of all rejuvenescences was the origin of 
 Christianity. This sums up in itself all other rejuvene- 
 scences, and gives them a significance and a value which 
 they do not otherwise possess. The birth of our Lord 
 is the most wonderful illustration of the great law by 
 which life of every kind returns to an earlier condition, 
 
XTV.] REJUVENESCENCE. 343 
 
 in order to obtain a point of departure for renewed pro- 
 gress on a higher plane. " For unto us a Child is born, 
 unto us a Son is given." In the person of the child 
 Jesus, humanity became young again. By His works the 
 world became a new creation. Sin had made nature old 
 in barrenness and poverty and disorder ; sin had worn 
 out the human frame with disease and defect and death ; 
 sin had subjected the spirit to the bondage of evil. From 
 all these disabilities and evils the miracles of Jesus 
 delivered nature and human nature. By the multiplica- 
 tion of the loaves and the changing of water into wine, 
 our Lord removed the poverty of fallen nature, and 
 brought back the fertility and abundance of the unfallen 
 world, before the curse had been pronounced, " Thorns 
 and thistles shall it bring forth unto thee ; in the sweat 
 of thy brow shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life." 
 The miracle of walking on the sea re-asserted the 
 sovereignty over nature which man had lost. The 
 calming of the storm brought back nature to the peace 
 and order of Eden. The healing of blindness, deaf- 
 ness, dumbness, fever, leprosy, and all the other diseases 
 caused by sin, brought back man's body to the healthi- 
 ness and vigour which it had when it sprang fresh 
 from the Creator's hand; while the casting out of 
 devils and the forgiveness of sin restored man's spirit to 
 the freedom and purity of its first estate. 
 
 Across all these rejuvenescences comes the terrible 
 " Thus far shalt thou go, but no farther," of death. But 
 this most mysterious riddle of nature's Sphinx is inter- 
 preted by Him who brought life and immortality to 
 
344 THE MINISTRY OF NATURE. [CHAP. 
 
 light. He has shown to us in His miracles and in His 
 own person, that death is but the sleep of rejuvenescence 
 the greatest retreat and gathering in of life for the 
 greatest transformation deeper and longer-continued 
 than the embryonal or pupa sleep ; but as certain to 
 issue in a higher state and in a nobler form. It is not 
 the storm or the blight that decays and pushes off the 
 autumn leaf, but the growth of the bud behind it. So 
 it is the expansion of immortal life behind that pushes 
 off this mortal life. The outward man perisheth because 
 the inward man is renewed more and more. " It is not 
 death that destroys," says Fichte, " but the higher life 
 which, concealed behind the other, begins to develop 
 itself. Death and birth are but the struggle of life with 
 itself to attain a higher form." The body is shed, like 
 an autumn leaf from the bough of life, every seven years, 
 leaving its bud to perpetuate the same existence ; but in 
 death it leaves behind not a bud, but a seed or germ 
 sowing not that which shall be but bare grain from which 
 will be developed the body of immortality. The body 
 that is laid in the grave is only the last, it may be, of a 
 long series, out of which the soul has successively 
 departed ; and as the soul has moulded and preserved 
 the identity of these successive bodies raised from the 
 bud, so it will mould and preserve the identity of the 
 last glorious body that shall be raised from the seed. 
 
 Every rejuvenescence which man experiences is an 
 additional assurance to him that, as he has borne the 
 image of the earthy, so he will bear the image of the 
 heavenly. We have proofs and anticipations of this in 
 
xiv.] REJUVENESCENCE, 345 
 
 the fact that there is hardly one of our organs which 
 fulfils a mere animal purpose. The brain, while it is 
 necessary to the process of digestion and locomotion, is 
 also the medium of thought ; the lungs that purify the 
 blood are also organs of speech ; the heart that circulates 
 the blood is also the seat of the emotions and affections. 
 The spiritual stamps its impress upon every part of the 
 body, and claims it for its own purposes. The very 
 waste or dross of the body which is carried away by the 
 breath, is minted in language into the coinage of the soul. 
 In the development of the body through all its stages, 
 we see the complete subordination of structure to spirit 
 and spiritual purpose. The nervous system, which is 
 the noblest part of our body and the immediate instru- 
 mentality of the spirit, is the first part that appears in 
 the human germ ; and as it develops from the primitive 
 groove, all the rest of the structure is introduced to 
 minister to it. The digestive, the circulating, the secre- 
 tory, the respiratory apparatus, are all merely its subor- 
 dinates and servants. It uses them in succession in 
 carrying out its great aim at psychical development; 
 leaves behind the germinal membrane when the stomach 
 is prepared, and passes from aquatic to aerial respiration. 
 It changes the very nature of its organs. It breathes by 
 a membrane, by gills, and by lungs ; it carries on its cir- 
 culation wkhout a heart, with a heart of one cavity, and 
 finally with one of four. The particles of the body asso- 
 ciated with it at birth all pass away at maturity, and are 
 replaced by new ones. And in this elevation and dis- 
 carding of the means by which it is attained, the principle 
 
346 THE MINISTR Y OF NA TURE. [CHAP. 
 
 that animates the nervous system remains unchanged, and 
 goes on from strength to strength. Do we not see in 
 this, as Dr. Draper has so admirably pointed out, the 
 complete subordination of structure, and the enduring 
 character of spirit ? And is there not good reason to 
 conclude that the universal instinctive feeling of the ages 
 and nations, that the spirit will exist after death, is not a 
 vulgar illusion, but a solemn, philosophical fact ? If the 
 spirit has already survived so many changes, the renewal 
 of organs and structures that seemed essential to its 
 existence, are we not justified in expecting that it will 
 survive the dissolution of the whole body, and complete 
 in a future state the archetype towards which from the 
 beginning to the end it has been advancing here. 
 
 This is the glorious hope set before us in the Gospel ; 
 this is the climax and consummation of all rejuvenescences 
 here the renewal of nature of man's body of his mind 
 his heart his soul. All these renewals are leading to 
 and preparing for the great renewal of heaven. The 
 kingdom of heaven in its highest sense is the restitittion 
 of all things. It is the New Jerusalem, the realization at . 
 once of the true tendencies of man and the fulfilment f 
 the ancient promises of God. It is the new heaven and 
 the new earth wherein dwelleth righteousness not another 
 physical world specially created for the dwelling-place of 
 glorified humanity ; but this earth itself which in all its 
 various phases has been so closely united and bound up 
 with the nature of man., and hallowed by the footsteps, 
 yea, even by the tears and blood of the Son of God himself, 
 and which in the end shall share in the new and wondrous 
 
xiv.j REJUVENESCENCE. 347 
 
 birth of redemption, "put on its glorious resurrection 
 robes and minister delight to the ennobled senses of the 
 redeemed." " Behold, I make all things new," says the 
 Alpha and the Omega the Beginning and the End not 
 in the sense of a new creation, but in the sense of the 
 perfect renovation and exaltation of the old. Mankind 
 will return to the youth of Eden; paradise will be restored. 
 The tree of life will bloom again, and the river of life will 
 flow as the true fountain of youth through the unfading 
 landscapes of immortality. All that Adam lost through 
 disobedience will be restored in a higher shape through 
 Christ's obedience. All that we loved and lost here will 
 meet us there, and we shall rejoice, and our joy no man 
 shall take from us. All the old things of the curse will 
 pass away in the everlasting spring. The spirits of just 
 men will be made perfect. There will be neither marry- 
 ing nor giving in marriage no birth, and consequently 
 no death, for all will be as the angels of heaven. The 
 angels wear the bloom of eternal youth, for whenever 
 they appeared on earth they were seen as young men. 
 And the redeemed in glory will have the body of their 
 humiliation changed and fashioned like unto- the body 
 of Christ ; and we know what a body that is incor- 
 ruptible, undefiled, unfading Jesus Christ, the same 
 yesterday, to-day and for ever. rt We shall be like Him, 
 for we shall see Him as He is." 
 
 THE END. 
 
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