LIBRARY
OF THE
University of California.
GIFT OF
}:..s ^....^AA^.C^i
Class
-
A MANUAL FOR SUNDAYS.
A FEW THOUGHTS FOR EACH SUNDAY
OF THE CHURCH'S YEAR.
BY
F. C. W O O D H O U S E, M.A.
AUTHOR OF "a MANUAL FOR LENT," ETC. ETC.
I WAS IN THE Spirit on the Lord's Day."
LONDON:
WELLS GARDNER, DARTON cS^^ CO
2^ PATERNOSTER BUILDINGS, E.G.
AND 44, VICTORIA STREET, S.W.
W' ■^''
(3\
i
PREFACE.
When wc reckon up the large number of Sermons
that are preached every Sunday, and add to them
the constant stream of religious books that is ever
issuing from the press, we might well doubt whether
it is necessary or desirable to publish another volume
for Sunday reading.
There are, however, some considerations that seem
to prove that we have not yet too many works of
this kind. We live in stirring times ; truth is ever
more and more apprehended ; new light is constantly
being thrown upon old facts; the enemy ''girds
himself with a new sword" to attack the faithful
servants of GOD ; doubt takes forms hitherto un-
known; difficulties in the way of Christian belief
and practice arise which were not experienced in
former times. All this seems to point to the
necessity for books written in the full knowledge
of these circumstances, and which will not be laid
aside by disappointed readers, as utterly unsuited
to their wants.
It is also a fact that some books, without being
deep or clever, will interest and instruct certain
minds which are unaffected by other books that are
167218
iv ^vdaa.
in literary power, learning, and spirituality unde-
niably superior to them. As there are tastes which
differ, and one man admires that which another
does not care for, or even dislikes, so an author may,
unconsciously, present to some readers an attractive
aspect of common truths which another cannot give
them. Thus Dean Goulburn says : ^' It is good that
Divine Truth . . . should be exhibited under diffe-
rent aspects, reflected under the various angles of
incidence at which it strikes various minds. The
aspect of it which comes home powerfully to one
mind may be expected to attract and influence
minds similarly constituted, . . . principally from
the reader's finding his own mind to be in touch
with the mind of the writer."
If, therefore, an author finds by the general de-
mand of the public, and by personal testimony,
often from individuals entirely unknown to him,
that his writings are appreciated, and are doing
some little good, he may, perhaps, without pre-
sumption, continue to give his thoughts to the
world, and so ^Mn his vocation and ministry," be
it never so humble, do some small work for his
Lord and His Church; since in His Kingdom
'^ He hath appointed to every man his work."
CONTENTS.
PAGE
First Sunday in Advent—
The Human and the Divine ./ i
Second Sunday in Advent —
The Right Use of Holy Scripture ....*/ 8
Third Sunday in Advent —
Certainty • I7
Fourth Sunday in Advent—
Ending and Beginning r 23
First Sunday after Christmas —
Michael's Answer to Satan .■^30
Second Sunday after Christmas —
" I would not live al way " v 35
First Sunday after Epiphany —
Ideals / 41
Second Sunday after Epiphany —
Always Something Wanting ,48
Third Sunday after Epiphany —
The End of Destructions *^ 53
Fourth Sunday after Epiphany —
Even as a Beast /^ 59
Fifth Sunday after Epiphany —
The Most Precious Things . . . . ' . /^ 66
Sixth Sunday after Epiphany —
Man and Satan . . . . . . . -74
Septuagesima —
Life and Thought 83
Sexagesima —
The Cherubim , , - 87
Contents.
QUINQUAGESIMA —
Love, or Nothing .
First Sunday in Lent —
Sin, a Madness of the Soul
Second Sunday in Lent —
Sin, a Leprosy of the Soul
Third Sunday in Lent —
Sin, the Blindness of the Soul
Fourth Sunday in Lent —
Sin, a Paralysis of the Soul
Fifth Sunday in Lent —
Sin, a Deafness of the Soul
Sixth Sunday in Lent—
Sin, the Death of the Soul
Easter Day —
The Angel in the Sepulchre
First Sunday after Easter—
Magdalen at the Sepulchre
Second Sunday after Easter —
The Good Shepherd
Third Sunday after Easter-
The Loss of Opportunities
Fourth Sunday after Easter —
The Ministry of the Holy Ghost Convincing of Sin
Fifth Sunday after Easter —
What "the World" Means for us To-day
Sunday after Ascension —
The Gifts of the Glorified Man
Whitsunday-
How God is a Consuming Fire
Trinity Sunday —
Heaven
First Sunday after Trinity—
Disadvantages
Second Sunday after Trinity-
The Evil of Peace .
Cotttenta. vii
I'ACJE
Third wSunday after Trinity —
Samuel's Life at Shiloh 235
Fourth Sunday after Trinity —
The Perfect Man 242
Fifth Sunday after Trinity —
The Pursuit of Peace 249
Sixth Sunday after Trinity —
The Soul's Liberation from the Body . . . ( 254
Seventh Sunday after Trinity —
The Secret of Man's Power / 261
Eighth Sunday after Trinity —
False Prophets / 266
Ninth Sunday after Trinity —
The Stewardship of Man / 273
Tenth Sunday after Trinity —
The Hardened Heart / 278
Eleventh Sunday after Trinity —
The Brook in the Way / 285
Twelfth Sunday after Trinity —
The Prophetic Office j 292
Thirteenth Sunday after Trinity—
" Go and Do " i 299
Fourteenth Sunday after Trinity—
The Three Parables on Penitence .... 7 303
Fifteenth Sunday after Trinity —
The Eftects of Sin ^ 309
Sixteenth Sunday after Trinity —
A Dead Man /315
Seventeenth Sunday after Trinity —
The Sea / 319
Eighteenth Sunday after Trinity —
The Soul's Longing for Life / 327
Nineteenth Sunday after Trinity —
God to us what we are to Him . . . . ' IZZ
Twentieth Sunday after Trinity —
The Collect for the Sunday / 340
viii dotttcnts.
PAGE
Twenty-first Sunday after Trinity —
The Martyr Spirit z' 345
Twenty-second Sunday after Trinity —
Resting Within the Hands of God . . . . '351
Twenty-third Sunday after Trinity—
Coesar's Imj^e, and God's Image . . . . / 357
Twenty-fourth Sunday after Trinity —
The Church's Husbandry 3^4
Twenty-fifth Sunday after Trinity —
Autumn 37'
Jir-st Suntiag in atiirent.
THE HUMAN AND THE DIVINE.
ERRATUM.
Page I, Fi'rsi Sunday in Advent^ substitute the follow-
ing for first sentence —
In our Lord's miracle of feeding the multitude, there
is a remarkable mingling together of the divine and the
human.
iidvc ci iiicuvcuuubiy cuiiipiex iiaiure, mai we cannot
even understand. Yet the government of the world
is, to a large extent, left absolutely in our hands ; and
viii (Kotttcnta.
Twenty-first Sunday after Trinity —
The Martyr Spirit z' 345
Twenty-second Sunday after Trinity —
Resting Within the Hands of God . . . . ' 35^
Twenty-third Sunday after Trinity—
*c;
.-. A w-
Jirst Suntiag in ^tibent.
THE HUMAN AND THE DIVINE.
In the miracle of to-day's Gospel, as in all the other
miracles wrought by our Lord, there is a remarkable
mingling together of the divine and the human.
It is His almighty power that increases the food,
and makes it grow under His hand, so as to feed
a multitude ; but He demands the gift of the store
that His disciples had, before He will put forth
His creative force. There is enough, and more than
enough, for the host of hungry men and women;
but He will have all orderly seated, in ranks and
bands, before He gives them a morsel. And when
the feast is over. He will have no waste. The frag-
ments are carefully collected, to serve for another
day's needs. Each loaf and fish must pass through
His hands, but the guests receive their portion from
the hands of the disciples. '^ Give ye them to eat,"
He had said at first ; and He makes them do it at
last. It is their bread, after all, and they are the
distributors ; their objections overruled ; their in-
ability corrected by His superior power.
And is not this but one instance of an invariable
law, in all that we are cognisant of, in the dealings
of God with man ? We find ourselves in the midst
of a universe, called into existence, we know not
how, only certainly without our aid. We ourselves
have a marvellously complex nature, that we cannot
even understand. Yet the government of the world
is, to a large extent, left absolutely in our hands ; and
* A
Jfirat ^untran in ^titrcnt,
we are masters of ourselves, to do, and to be, and
to become, almost what we like. We acknowledge
Almighty GOD to be our Ruler, LORD, and Master,
yet we depend one upon another ; child upon parent ;
man upon man ; country upon country. Human life
is a perpetual giving and receiving. Civilisation and
progress depend upon the carrying out of this prin-
ciple. The savage is independent, like the wild beast ;
the cultured man is dependent upon a thousand other
men, and upon a dozen distant lands.
Is it any wonder, then, that we find this same prin-
ciple fundamental in the constitution of the Catholic
Church ? We discover the divine and the human
ever co-operating. We see human ministry, backed
by divine power. We handle our own common things
in the particular way that is commanded ; and they
are no longer common ; they become endowed with
the powers which we name supernatural.
Why did not our LORD remain in the world —
universal King, visible Head of the Church ? Because
it would have violated this great law. He has put
power into the hands of governments and bishops,
just as He distributed that food first to His Apostles,
and then left it to them to minister to the waiting
and wanting crowd. In His parables He compares
Himself to a king absent, having delegated his
authority to his nobles ; to a great man, who leaves
his steward in absolute charge of house, and ser-
vants, and property ; to a lord, who divides his wealth
among many subordinates, and then goes quite away,
and leaves them practically independent, till he re-
turns to reclaim his own, and to reckon with them
respecting their use of his valuables.
A great deal that we complain of in Church and
State comes through the abuse of this delegated divine
power. Our LORD warned us that it would be so.
He spoke of buried talents, of unused pounds, of
stewards idle, wasteful, immoral, tyrannical, wicked.
JTtrst ^untran ttt ^trbcnt.
But do not individuals abuse their personal liberty in
the same way ? Medical men tell us that thousands
do not die, but are murdered. People murder them-
selves, by ignorance, by wilful indulgences, by abuse
of their powers and functions. People are murdered
by one another, by want of care, by selfish neglect,
by sheer stupidity. So it is in Church and State ;
so in parishes and in families. We all depend one
upon another, and those who are in positions of
authority cannot help doing much harm, or much
good, to others, just according as they exercise their
power, well or ill. Man's liberty and individuality
are never effaced. We know but little of the secret
workings of inspiration, but we do not doubt that
prophet differed from prophet, and writer from writer ;
each leaving the mark of his special disposition and
character upon the divine message that he delivered.
St. Paul and St. John had very different natures, dif-
ferent educations, different views, different methods.
They were both apostles, both instruments of the
Holy Ghost in establishing the Cathohc Church ;
but each worked in his own' way, free within a wide
area of personal liberty.
So it has been with the history of the Church.
The Papacy was at one time a great blessing and
a source of strength and unity; at another time
so tremendous an evil that, but for the inherent
grace of God, it would seem as if Christianity itself
would have been corrupted and have perished off
the face of the earth. In the same way kings and
bishops have been instruments of incalculable bless-
ing, or of terrible mischief, to the cause of religion,
and to the spiritual life of many souls. Thus the
divine and the human are found side by side, and
it is hard to say where the boundaries are, where
one begins and the other ends.
It is the same within the Church in matters of
detail. The two great Sacraments are especial
yirat ^nntia^ in ^irbent.
instances. The common elements, water, bread,
and wine, are used as our LORD used the bread
and fish in this miracle, by His command endued
with supernatural powers by His overruling will.
Human hands administer the most ordinary materials,
but the Lord of all things and of all men is behind ;
and He can do all things. Men say, *' I will have
no man stand between me and my GOD; I want
no priest, no rites, no forms." Be it so, if it is
possible. But the whole analogy of life is against
it. Everything, every person, depends upon some-
thing, upon some one else. Wiser men sit down
quiet and thankful till their fellow~men, com-
missioned by their LORD, bring them the food
they need; and they would think it unseemly to
rush pell mell, or in single presumption, and
demand to receive the Lord's gift at His own
hand alone. '' I will go out into the sunny fields
and look up straight to GOD and commune with
Him, without church, or sacrament, or apparatus of
worship." Well and good if you can. But, do
not forget that there is some one else concerned
in this matter besides yourself It does not rest
with you alone. There is God's will to be con-
sidered, and if it has pleased GOD to appoint another
way, then any self-chosen method must be pre-
sumptuous and ineffective. Let us think what GOD
is, and what we are, and we shall be a Httle more
modest. '' I will read my Bible at home, and so
learn God's will and my duty. I want no teacher.'*
And yet how came you by that Bible ? Did GOD
hand it to you personally direct from heaven in
the English language ? Did it not rather come to
you through men's intervention ? Do what you
will, there still stands some one, many a one, be-
tween you and GOD. For this is His will, and
no one can alter it.
Next let us notice the preparation and attitude
of those whom our LORD feeds and satisfies. They
are eager for instruction; they forget their daily
bread that they may receive the Bread of Life.
Those whom our LORD fed went out of their way
and tarried long with Him. And when He had com-
passion, and would feed them, they just did as they
were told, and in orderly patience waited their turn.
Many Christians are never nourished and blessed in
church, simply because they have no spiritual appe-
tite. They do not hunger for the Bread that came
down from heaven. There were five thousand fed
by our Lord, but how many thousands were there
who were not fed ? There were crowds going up
to Jerusalem ; the majority toiled on unrefreshed.
Our Lord says, ^' Blessed are they who hunger
and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be
filled." Many stay away from church because they
have no appetite for spiritual food. Many come
and go empty away for the same reason. But,
" He filleth the hungry v/ith good things ; " they
eat and are filled; their faintness is gone; they
are ready now to go on their journey to Jerusalem
to worship and to sacrifice. So it is in our churches.
They are, after all, but resting-places by the way.
We come and go. Presently our faces are no more
seen, and others are there instead. But all have
'' their faces set as though they would go to
Jerusalem ; " they who distribute as well as those
who receive the Bread pass away, and others
stand in their place. It is well. It must be so.
Our Lord Himself sent the multitude away as
soon as He had fed them ; sent them all the same
way, all to Jerusalem. In rank and order, no
doubt, as they had sat down, so they were marshalled
onwards; no confusion, nothing by chance. The
particular disciple that broke the bread for some
particular company did not remain always with
that company ; his work was done ; he went his
^^irst ^utttran in ^biirnt.
way, they theirs. Only all went to Jerusalem.
There they met again. So Christian pastors do
their work and pass away; but they and their
people hope to meet again in the city of GOD.
Shall we not try and regard our churches, our
Sundays, our services, thus ? We, the set-apart
ministers, shall we lift up ourselves because of our
office ? God forbid. What are we but the disciples
with hands full of food, given to us to distribute to
our fellow-Christians ? What room for pride, then ?
^^ Ourselves your servants," " ministers of CHRIST,"
^^ stewards of the mysteries of GoD," and you, all
and each, ministers too ; for there is a priesthood
of the Laity. Every one receives the gift ; every one
ministers to his neighbour. Picture that crowd.
The man receives the bread, and shares it with his
wife ; the mother feeds her little ones, before she
tastes herself; the sick, the aged, the blind, there is
some kind hand to receive for them, to give to them.
Yes, it is so still ; the true disciple, whose hands are
full, does not go away and eat all by himself. He
knows that he has received, simply that he may give
to those whom His LORD intends to feed. What
is that I see in your hands ? Money. Your master
gave it you, not to be hoarded, not to be squandered,
but to be well used. He gave to His disciples, that
they might give to the multitude. He has given us
all something ; we must distribute His gifts, as the
disciples distributed the loaves and fishes.
Here, in a nutshell, is the rule of Christian con-
duct — mutual dependence, mutual help ; CHRIST'S
rule for the Church, for each congregation, for each
faithful soul. ^' To every one his work " — work for
God ; work for others ; work for self ; and the last
best done by those who do the other two most truly.
Ah, high and noble rule of life ; sure road to happi-
ness and peace — for selfishness is the chief cause of
unrest. We go on learning our religion. Years
JFirst ^untra^ in ^bhtnt.
pass ; we have sufferings and disappointments ; we
have joys and pleasant times ; we have dark times,
and doubts and perplexities. There are changes,
sad losses, tearful partings. Life seems very com-
plex ; we get bewildered sometimes. And then there
comes a quiet, soft light, and the mists clear away ;
and duty seems plain and simple ; and all the mani-
fold obligations and conflicting calls and claims seem
to merge in one obvious rule of life — the old childish
rule that a Christian mother taught us, as the
Church, our true mother, taught her, ^' To do'
to all men as I would they should do unto me."
And there stands before us the Man CHRIST jESUS,
our Pattern, our Helper ; ready to guide us ; ready
to pardon our poor failures ; bidding us put our
whole trust in Him in life's strange mazes, and in
the dark and pathless valley of the shadow of
death.
Secontr Suntiag in Stibmt*
THE RIGHT USE OF HOLY SCRIPTURE.
The Church turns the words of the Epistle into
a prayer in the Collect to-day, so especially drawing
our attention to the right use of Holy Scripture.
Following the Apostle, she tells us that the sacred
Books are put into our hands ^' for our learning,"
z.e., in modern phraseology, for our instruction ;
also to teach us patience, and to give us comfort.
St. Paul is referring to the Old Testament ; the
Church, of course, includes the New Testament
in her adoption of his words. St. Paul quotes a
prophecy respecting the suffering MESSIAH as an
argument for patience under the ills of life, and for
holding fast the Christian hope. The Church, with
the full story of the Gospels in her hands, setting
forth Christ in all the details of His life and Passion,
may well bid us '' read, mark, learn, and inwardly
digest," that CHRIST may be formed in us, and His
likeness displayed in our words and deeds.
When we read what devout men say respecting
the Old Testament Scriptures, the love they express
for them, the time they give to meditation upon
them, night and day, the careful searching in them
for their hidden treasures, the comfort and help they
find in them, we are sometimes amazed, and fail to
follow them, and to enter into their enthusiasm.
The New Testament is so infinitely clearer, deeper,
wider, that the Old Testament — except, perhaps, the
Psalms — seems by comparison uninteresting, unedi-
UNiVhRSITY
GF
^£r0ntr ^utttrag in '^bbtnt
fying; just as the living face makes the portrait
look hard and cold ; just as the sun makes lamps
and candles dim and dull. But St. Paul, with the
full knowledge of the Gospel revelation, still writes
of the comfort and instruction to be gathered by
Christians from the Old Testament books.
Our Church of England, more than any other
Church, ancient or modern — and certainly far more
than any of the Protestant sects — teaches her children
to love the Word of God, and to become familiar
with its contents. Besides the daily recitation of the
Psalms, and the Epistles and Gospels for Sundays
and holy days, there are four portions read every
day in her public services. She has translated the
whole Bible, and put it trustingly into the hands of
all, knowing that although, like every other good
thing, it may be misused and abused, yet esteeming
its right use too precious to be foregone on that
account.
For assuredly the Bible has been, and is, misused
— its meaning perverted, its words wrested to men's
destruction, and to the Church's own grievous hurt.
In old time the Gnostics, the Arians, the Pelagians,
and all the other impugners of the Catholic faith,
found, as they professed and believed, countenance
for their novelties and errors in the Holy Scriptures ;
and the wildest and most extravagant sectarian of
modern times still comes forth, Bible in hand, boldly
and confidently claiming it on his side, and that he
alone understands its meaning, and has for the first
time been its true exponent and teacher. Nay, more,
Satan himself, when he confronted our LORD, backed
his temptations by quotations from Holy Scripture,
and his example has been followed many a time since.
" The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.
An evil soul producing holy witness ^
Is like a villain with a smiling cheek,
A goodly apple rotten at the heart."
^o ^tconh ^mha^ in '^bbznt
And so it has been sneeringly said of the Bible — •
" Hie liber est in quo querit sua dogmata quisque,
Invenit pariter dogmata quisque sua."
That is to say, every one turns to Scripture to look
for support for his particular theory, and finds what
he looks for.
But surely this is not only a misuse of Holy
Scripture, but a total misconception of its nature,
and the purpose for which it has been given to us.
It is not a storehouse of raw material, out of which
any one who likes can construct a religion for him-
self. Christ did not, hke Mahomet, write a book.
He Himself is the revelation of truth and of GOD.
His Church was founded and spread, long before
a single book of the New Testament was written.
Those books were penned by their authors, not to
teach men the Christian religion, but for the comfort
and edification of those who were already Christians.
So St. Luke addresses his Gospel to Theophilus,
who had *' already been instructed " as to all things
which it contained. The Church's system is not
categorically laid down in the New Testament, but
the existence of such a system is assumed, and is
alluded to as ^* the faith," '* the doctrine of CHRIST,"
and so on. And so St. Paul says, ^' I praise you
that ye keep the traditions that I delivered to you ; "
and of new questions as they arose, ^* The rest will
I set in order, when I come." And St. John, " I
will not with ink and pen write unto thee, but I
trust I shall shortly see thee, and we shall speak
face to face." The apostles and first missionaries
of Christ did not set out with a book in their hands ;
for books were scarce, and those who could read
were few, and there was as yet no Bible for them to
read ; but they went out in the power of the HOLY
Ghost, to gather men into Christ's kingdom by faith
in Him, and by being baptized into the Name of the
Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. St. Paul,
when he enumerates the gifts of the Spirit, makes
no mention of writers, or of books. When our
Lord bade the Jews ^^ search their Scriptures," it
was that they might find there His own credentials,
as their sole Teacher ; not that they might find in
them the truth for themselves, without a Divine
Teacher. Indeed they had already failed to use
their Scriptures rightly, for, unlike the Ethiopian
eunuch, they had presumed upon their own judg-
ment, and had not asked for a divine teacher to guide
them. As time went on, and books were written,
the Church decided which should be received as
canonical, and which should be rejected. There
were many Gospels, besides the four in our Bibles.
There were many Epistles and other books, which
were read in particular Churches, and gradually set
aside, the Acts and Passions of martyrs, the lives of
local saints, the letters of holy bishops and mis-
sioners. It was the Church, by the power of the
indweUing Spirit of GOD, that decided what was and
what was not the Word of GOD ; and it was, and is,
the Church alone, by the power of the same Spirit
of God, that can tell the true meaning of Scripture.
To hear some foolish people talk one would suppose
that the EngHsh translation of the Bible had been
handed down straight from heaven, written with the
finger of GOD, like the tables of the old Law at
Sinai. One memorable pronouncement remains still
in print, to astonish all learned and thoughtful men.
A Dean of the Church of England was the author of
the astounding statement, that every book of the
Bible, every chapter, every verse, nay, every word,
was inspired, and to be received as the infallible
voice of God ! Putting aside the difficulties that
surround our study of the Hebrew originals of the
Old Testament, and the variations between them
and the ancient Septuagint version, we have no
12 ^er0ntr ^xitttra^ in ^totti.
manuscript of any book of the New Testament older
than the fourth century ; and the various readings,
as any student knows, are numerous enough to show
that no verbal inspiration is possible. Nor was it
ever maintained by the primitive Church. The
earliest Christian writers quote the Gospels quite
loosely, without any regard for literal accuracy. It
was men not books that were inspired, and the living
Church never silenced her voice in deference to a
dead book. It was not till the error of Papal Infalli-
bility had been foisted upon the Church, and then
rejected by the inexorable logic of facts and reason,
that this novel theory of Bible Infallibility was in-
vented. Men had so long accepted the fallacy that
an infallible guide was essential to the Church, that
when they could no longer so regard the Pope, they
looked hither and thither for a substitute, and thought
they found it in the Bible ; and what has been called
Bibliolatry became an error, as Mariolatry had been
an error before. Then came the age of criticism,
and because this theory was found to be untenable,
men gave up all belief, and railed against Christianity
with rancorous bitterness. In the same way it had
been assumed that the Bible was a scientific and
literal record of the history of the earth, and of the
primeval ages ; and when discoveries were made, or
theories and systems invented, that seemed not alto-
gether to agree with what men supposed that the
Bible taught, then again there set in a fashion of
scepticism, which threatened to end in mental chaos
and ruin.
It is to be hoped that this has passed away, and
that a right view of the nature and use of the Holy
Scriptures will save us from such misery, and them
from dishonour. The belief in gravitation, and in
the earth's motion round the sun, was once thought
to be contrary to the teaching of the Bible. No one
thinks so now. If the same amount of evidence is
found in favour of Evolution, and other modern
scientific theories, they will doubtless be accepted
also, without prejudice to the Christian's reverence
for Holy Scripture. So Charles Kingsley said —
" Evolution only asserts that the Creator bears the
same relation to the whole universe as to every indi-
vidual man, whose body is developed by natural
laws." And another writer says that the order of
the work of the seven days might have been given
in 5040 different ways, whereas they accord with the
general system laid down by the present state of
geological discovery. ^' The locks of Messrs. Hobbs
are so made that no two are alike. A lock with fifteen
levers may be varied 1,307,674,368,000 times. Moses
has placed fifteen events in their proper order." And
as regards textual accuracy, Tischendorf has said —
"Providence has ordained for the New Testament
more sources of the greatest antiquity than are pos-
sessed by all the old Greek literature together."
There is no historical event that can justly be
believed, if we reject the narratives of the New Testa-
ment. " The same degree of certainty is not required
in historical as injudicial evidence, or we should be
logically compelled to withhold our belief from nine-
tenths of historical facts, about which we really have
no doubt at all. Every day we act upon evidence
which would be rejected in a court of justice."
" The Bible," said that profound thinker, Mr. Hinton,
" is as large as Nature, and as deep and simple, and
must be dealt with in the same way. If you do not
understand a fact in nature, you do not fidget yourself;
so you need not expect to understand every passage
of the Bible. It is not a book for one man, or for one
age, but for all." And the late Professor Mozley
wrote — " In human affairs it is considered the highest
wisdom to accommodate instruction to the imperfect
knowledge of the learner, and, at the same time,
plant a seed of more perfect knowledge. This is
14 ^ecotttr ^untra^ in ^trhcttt.
just the history of divine revelation. The morahty
of a progressive revelation must be judged by the
end to which it leads. The Law taught the ignorant
and degraded Jews to become Christians. All other
religious systems stopped short of any development
in morals. Man's mind cannot be enlightened all at
once by revelation. The laws of man's being require
gradual advance. As well judge a sculptor by a
broken chip of stone, as GOD by Old Testament
incidents." " The eye, not the ear, is the organ to
receive light ; so perhaps the understanding is not
the faculty which receives from GOD the knowledge
of His existence and His attributes, but the con-
science, which judges the understanding, and is
therefore its superior." '' The progress of the human
race in spiritual knowledge, unlike its progress in
scientific knowledge, has been due, not to thinkers
intellectually gifted, but to prophets inspired by GOD ;
just as the progress of spiritual knowledge in every
human soul depends upon communion with GOD."
^^ Whatever Christianity revealed, it is certain that
it left much unrevealed. It is by a slow process
that the world learns all that the New Testament
contains. Though the stars do not develop, astro-
nomy does. Christianity may not change, but man's
understanding of it may." ^' If the doctrine of the
resurrection lay hid in the words, ^ I am the GOD
of Abraham,' why may not other doctrines still lie
hidden in equally obscure references ? " '^ The most
searching criticism of the New Testament by sceptics
has resulted in its establishment as historically accu-
rate. The easiest thing would have been to have
declared it a forgery, like the Decretals ; but no one
dreams of this. Hence mythical and other theories
are invented to explain it away."
We come back then to that with which we started ;
that the Bible is GOD'S Word to our souls, but that
it must be used as GoD intended it to be used, with
fear, reverence, humility; as Bishop Jewel says,
" The Scriptures are the mysteries of GOD ; let us
not be curious ; let us not seek to know more than
God hath revealed by them. They are the sea of
God ; let us take heed we be not drowned in them.
They are the fire of GoD ; let us take comfort by
their heat, and warily take heed they burn us not.
They that gaze over hardly upon the sun, take
blemish in their eyesight." God'S holy Word, if
rightly used, read, marked, learned, and inwardly
digested, will teach us patience with the ills of life,
and give us comfort under their painful pressure.
It is powerful and '^ quick," that is, it is endued
with life, to adapt itself to circumstances and to
different persons, and to enable them always to have
" the hope ; " for such are St. Paul's words.
Blessed are the eyes that see the things that we
see. If prophets and righteous men found the Old
Testament Scriptures so precious, what should they
be to us, when the light of Pentecost illumines them,
and we see Christ everywhere ? And what should
the New Testament be that sets forth Christ evi-
dently before our eyes, so that we seem to live in
His company, see His face, and hear His words, till
our hearts burn within us.
So we read in one of the Homilies, " If one could
show but the print of CHRIST'S Foot, a great number
would fall down and worship it. But to the Holy
Scriptures, where we may see daily, if we will, I
will not say the print of His Feet only, but the
whole shape and lively image of Him, alas, we give
but little reverence, or none at all. If any could
let us see Christ's coat, a sort of us would make
hard shift except we might come nigh to gaze upon
it, yea, and kiss it too ; and yet all the clothes that
ever He did wear can nothing so truly, nor so lively,
express Him unto us as do the Scriptures. Christ's
images made in wood or stone or metal, some men^
1 6 ^erDtttr ^utttra^ in ^trhcttt.
for the love they bear to CHRIST, do garnish and
beautify them with pearl of gold and precious stone ;
and should not we, good brethren, much rather
embrace and reverence God'S holy Book, the sacred
Bible, which doth represent ClIRIST unto us more
truly than can any image."
" One thought of God, in undiluted splendour,
Flashed on our feeble gaze,
Were never borne by mortal sight.
He knew it, and He gave,
In mercy tender,
All that the soul unwittingly doth crave,
All that it can receive. He robed
In finite words the sparkles of His thought,
The starry fire englobed
In tiny spheres of language, shielding.
Softening thus
The living, burning glory. And He brought
Even to us
This strange celestial treasure, that no prayer
Had asked of Him, no ear had heard.
Nor heart of man conceived. He laid it there,
Even at our feet, and said it was His Word.
O mystery of tender grace !
W^e find
God's thoughts in human words enshrined,
God's very life and love with ours entwined.
All wonderingly from page to page we pass.
Owning the darkening, yet revealing glass ;
In every line we trace,
In fair display.
Prismatic atoms of the glorious Bow
Projected on the darkest cloud that e'er
O'ergloomed that world that GOD had made so fair,
The Rainbow of His Covenant ; each one
Reflecting perfectly a sevenfold ray,
Shot from the sun
Of His exceeding love,
Strong and serene above.
Upon a tremulous drop of tearful life below."
Ef)irlr Suntiaj in Sltibent*
CERTAINTY,
In the midst of the doubt and intellectual confusion
of the present day we are sometimes tempted to
say, " Oh that I could have certainty respecting the
great questions that concern me so nearly ! " And
perhaps we envy those who saw and heard CHRIST
when He was upon earth, and think that if we had
lived then our present difficulties would not have
vexed and troubled us, and that we should have en-
joyed sure and peaceful belief. Yet a few moments*
reflection and the reading of the record of those
days of the Son of Man will speedily convince us
that there is not much to choose between our own
position and that of the eye-witnesses of the human
life of God manifest in the flesh.
There were many strong arguments against the
opinion that jESUS of Nazareth was the promised
Messiah. We must put aside our traditional con-
ceptions to understand this fully. There were many
difficulties that a Jew of those days would feel in
acknowledging the claims of CHRIST, and the best-
educated men of the day for the most part found
those difficulties insuperable. The nation was long-
ing for a redeemer, and was more than willing to
accept any one whose claims seemed reasonable.
There was ^^ much questioning," we are told, among
anxious inquirers. Even at the last, when our LORD
was before Pilate, the inquiry often before made,
was repeated, '' Art Thou the CHRIST ? " How much
is implied in the midnight visit of Nicodemus tp
17 13
1 8 Whtvh ^utttra^ in ^tthettt.
Christ ! What heart-searchings there must have
been, what study of the prophets, what keen
watching and Hstening to the words and acts of
our Lord, what racking of mind, what painful
weighing of evidence, what real mental torture
must have been endured, before that dignified master
in Israel could bring himself to go secretly and
humbly to that plain Man and open his heart's
grief, and ask the one question that was to him
life or death !
And what happened to Nicodemus was doubt-
less the experience of many besides. Take St.
Paul's case. " It is hard for thee to kick against
the pricks," said our Lord to him. What did that
mean, but that Saul of Tarsus was tortured by
conflicting opinions, desire for truth and light, secret
drawing towards CHRIST and His disciples on the
one hand, and on the other hand traditional belief,
the compelling influence of those whom he was
bound to respect ?
Then a little later this same St. Paul reads the
heart of Agrippa like an open book. *' I know that
thou believest," he said to him ; and the king cannot
hold back his confession : ** Almost thou persuadest
me to be a Christian." "Almost" — how many, if
they had spoken the whole truth, would have said
the same then ; how many since that day have felt
it ; how many say it in their hearts to-day !
What, then, does it all come to but to this, that
certainty is hard to find in this great inquiry, hard
in past times, hard now ? What does it come to
but that cold mental effort, pure intellectual inquiry,
forensic gathering and sifting of evidence, following
general opinion, is not enough to ensure Christian
faith?
"Search and look," said the acute and learned
men of the great council to Nicodemus; "out of
Nazareth there ariseth no prophet." Many felt
this and such-like reasons to be final, and that the
way to belief in CHRIST was absolutely barred. And
to-day the same thing is going on. Once men
rested in papal infallibility; it broke down. Then
they set up the infalHbihty of Scripture; criticism
has upset this human and arbitrary theory of
certainty. " The historical evidence of Christianity
is imperfect," men say. ^' The intellectual proofs are
faulty ; we do no disbelieve, but we suspend our
judgment ; we are compelled to be agnostics."
Well and good. But are men reasonable and con-
sistent who so decide? If they will have nothing
less than certainty, mathematical demonstration,
unassailable proof, judicial evidence, what are they
going to accept ? When will they feel justified
in taking any decided step whatever ?
Of what are we certain ? The evidence of our
senses ? What can be more deceptive ? Put your
stick into the water, your eyes tell you it is bent ;
pull it out, it is straight. Which is the fact ? The
sun seems to rise and set; science tells you that it
is the earth that moves. Which will you believe ?
You see external objects in certain positions; the
optician tells you that your eyes invert all images.
You see green and red ; another sees but one colour,
and that neither green nor red. You say he is
colour-bhnd. How do you know that he does
not see correctly, and that you are deficient ? So
with hearing, touch, taste. We might cite dilemmas
enough about each.
But Science is certain ! Is it ? What part of
science ? There are several theories as to the sun's
heat, its source, its maintenance; there is no cer-
tainty about it. The nebular hypothesis is not a
settled belief. There are constantly new theories.
Every year something is discovered that upsets older
positions. Space and time, we are told, must be
infinite, yet either is unthinkable. All physical
20 Wh'ivh ^nnha^ in ^trhcttt.
science is, after all, merely a probability. Every-
thing that we consider true has originated in hypo-
thesis. *^ The firmest of all conclusions are depen-
dent on facts, which may have been otherwise in the
past, and which may be otherwise in the future, and
which may actually at this moment present a totally
different appearance to other intelligent beings."
Belief in gravitation is an exercise of faith. We
accept the conclusions of astronomy, of geology, of
evolution, of chemistry, on the testimony of others,
but we have not proved them ourselves, and we can-
not do so. *' So in mathematics, the science most
trusted for exactness, it is found that a law some-
times holds good only up to a certain point, and
there ceases, from the breaking through of some
higher law, a variable quantity depending upon
another also variable, and the two changing gradu-
ally together." ^' Geometry has familiarised us with
reasoning on space of more dimensions than that in
which we live, and of which alone we can conceive ;
while analysis has necessitated the admission of so-
called ' imaginary quantities,' the nature of which the
imagination fails to grasp." '^ It is the characteristic
of abstract thought, that, when followed out to its
utmost limits, it almost invariably lands us in the
region of paradox."
Where, then, have we certainty ? To come down
to the daily events of ordinary life, do we not con-
stantly act upon imperfect evidence ? Have we ever
anything more than probability for our guide ? So
Dr. Newman says, '' Probability is the guide of life.
Formal logical sequence is not the method by which
we are enabled to become certain of what is concrete,
but it is the cumulation of probabilities independent
of each other, probabilities too fine to avail separately,
too subtle and circuitous to be convertible into syllo-
gisms, too numerous and various for such conver-
sion, even were they convertible."
^hitb ^xtntta^ ttt ^irirent. 21
Children and inexperienced people are dogmatic
and quite sure; we who have seen so many mis-
takes are more cautious in our conclusions and
assertions. We have learned that uncertainty is as
much an attribute of the human mind as mortality
is of the human body. We may rebel against the
humiliating, degrading consciousness of the limits of
our knowledge, but to do so is as unreasonable as
to complain that we are absolutely confined to the
limits of this small planet, when infinite space is
about us. ''Whilst we accept gladly those most
precious glimmerings of Himself which GOD gives
us, we are by reason constrained to acknowledge
that the greatest and sublimest part of GOD is un-
known and unknowable to us. Just as a dog knows
of his master only a very little, and yet that little is
of more real importance to him than the large tracts
of his master's nature which he cannot know, so that
part of our Creator which we can dimly know is in
truth a very small fragment, and yet this fragment
is to us of inestimable value, and of more present
importance than the vast unfathomable recesses of
God's inner hidden being."
Demand mathematical certainty for your belief,
and you will lapse away into mere animal materi-
alism. Trust to your poor, limited intellect for the
foundation of your religion, and you will find both
give way and end in idiotic nescience. Question the
history of Jesus CHRIST, and you must question the
existence of Julius Caesar, and have, with Whately,
" historic doubts " as to Napoleon and his wars. The
evidences of Christianity must be sought within, as
well as without. The proofs of religion must be
looked for in experience, more than in argument.
We are like men rowing; we guide our course by
what we see behind us. The heart, the conscience,
the involuntary aspirations of something within us
that is not carnal nor material, the intuitions that no
2 2 . Whivh ^uittra^ :tt ^trircnf.
.one has taught us — these must be taken into con-
sideration when we think of GOD, of ourselves, and
of our destiny. And so St. Paul says that he
*^ knows ; " and St. John declares that he is '' sure ; "
and multitudes since them have believed in the
unseen, as surely as they have believed in what we
call the visible and tangible, and in much else of
which we say, " I cannot prove it to you, but to me
it is certain."
Jesus took a little child and set him in the midst
of His disciples, and said, '^ Except ye be converted,
and become as little children, ye cannot enter into
the kingdom of heaven." GOD is not found by cold,
calculating, intellectual search, but by the instincts
that He has implanted in our nature ; and those
instincts may be perverted, distorted, killed. '^ My
soul is athirst for GOD," said the old-world Psalmist,
says the earnest nineteenth century man in the
midst of the voices and din of our times, and the
reply to both is the Son of Man's invitation, ^' If
any man thirst, let him come unto Me and drink."
We take Him at His word. We become His
disciples. We follow Him, compelled by His mighty
influence ; but as we follow, we fear, we ask ques-
tions, we are tempted to draw back, as others do.
But to whom shall we go ? If He will not give
us all we desire, where shall we find a Master who
will give us what He gives, who promises what He
assures us of? Doubt says, ''I will not, because
I am not sure ; " Faith says, '' I will, though I am
not sure." And it is Faith that saves. Even know-
ledge, we are told, '' shall vanish away ; " for as yet
we know but in part ; we see but the reflection of
things as in a faulty, distorting mirror. We find
life to be a riddle, of which we have not yet received"
the answer. But when all else fails and lapses
away, Faith, Hope, Love, these the three, these
abide.
jFotirtfj Sunlias in ^t^htwt.
ENDING AND BEGINNING,
All things of which we have any knowledge have
beginning and ending. Some thinkers, both of
ancient and modern times, have maintained that
matter is eternal. They say they can neither find
any traces of its beginning, nor any signs that it will
ever come to an end ; they can follow some of its
wonderful changes, but they suspect that its quantity
remains always the same. They cannot prove it, but
they consider that, as far as human knowledge and
reason can be relied upon, matter may be considered
to be eternal, without beginning and without end.
But we Christians cannot accept this unproved
and unprovable theory. The Catholic Faith teaches
that there are not three nor two eternals, but only
one Eternal, the blessed and adorable Triune GOD.
Eternity can be the attribute of One only. We see
multitudes of things coming to an end ; we believe
that the law is universal, and that all things come
to an end. Nothing continues the same always.
The duration may be long or short, but sooner or
later tliere is a change, an end, and then another
beginning. Suns and planets have long lives ; they
pass through many changes, but each period of their
existence has its beginning and its end. Great
Babylon had world-wide dominion ; the city was
vast ; whole generations of men gave their skill and
strength to make it wonderful; its master stood
upon its walls, that rose like mountains upon the
flat plain of Euphrates ; he looked this way and that
23
24 JFourtlr ^utttra^ in ^bbBttt.
way, and could see no power strong enough to give
him alarm. Babylon seemed to defy destruction,
and to be immovable, invincible. But Babylon
came to an end. Rome was more mighty even than
Babylon ; it lasted longer ; it had wider dominion ;
men called it the '^ Eternal City." But the Roman
Empire came to an end.
We live our poor little lives, and they are but
a series of changes. Childhood comes to an end,
then youth. We live a few years here, a few there ;
we have friends, habits, surroundings ; and then pre-
sently all has come to an end, and our life is going on
in quite a different way, and there will come by-and-
by another change, another end ; men call it death.
We are drawing near to the year's end ; and then
there will be a new year, a beginning. We have
gone all through the year's series of festival and
fast, of commemoration and instruction ; and now
we have begun again. A pastor works in a parish
for a certain number of years ; then he is removed ;
but the Church and the Church's work go on. There
is an end; but there is at once a new beginning.
So it is with all things. There is always a beginning
or an ending in our affairs ; birth and death ; greeting
and parting; somebody or something new, and so
somebody or something passing away. So be it,
for weal or woe, for so it must be.
But let us try and get some helpful thoughts
from all this, some spiritual instruction, something
encouraging from that which at first sight seems to
be rather depressing. Let us, then, take it for certain
that our spiritual life and health are made up of a
series of beginnings and endings. If we were other
and higher beings than we are, this might not be so.
It certainly is not the highest and noblest form of
spiritual life that we can imagine. How much better
we might have been than we are ! If we had pre-
served our baptismal purity unsullied ; if we had -
been able to use all the grace of Confirmation ; if
every Communion had been a really good one, how-
far should we have advanced by this time towards
sanctity and perfection ! But we know how very
different it has been with us. We have made good
beginnings, and then, alas ! all has come to an end
in some fall ; and we seem to have lost all we had
gained. When we were confirmed we made good
resolutions ; at Lent, on our birthday, after some
illness, during a Mission — nay, at every Communion.
Yes, day by day, as we have knelt at our bedside
and examined ourselves as to what we have done
in the day, we have made new beginnings ; and then,
when we find that we have failed and broken down
again and again, we begin to get out of heart, and
to think that it is of no use, and that GOD will have
lost patience with us, and that we may as well give
up trying, for we never can be good.
Now, we must not think so. It is a temptation.
Some evil one whispers it, that he may keep us from
repentance and salvation ; that he may make us Hke
himself. There is a good deal of pride at the bottom
of such thoughts. We were so sure of our good in-
tentions ; we had such a high opinion of our abiHty
to do what we wished ; we were quite certain that
nothing would be able to overthrow us. And when
we are down again, just in the old way, our wounded
pride rankles, and we get angry with everybody
and everything. We are very like ill-conditioned
little children who, when they fall and hurt them-
selves, lie screaming, or begin to beat something
that tripped them up and hurt them. And so St.
Francis of Sales, who, beside being a great saint,
had a very bright and pleasant common-sense way
of looking at things, when some one came to him
with a long dismal tale of failure and falls, of broken
resolution, and disappointed expectation of what he
was going to do and to be, and asked what was th^
26 yourtlj .^untra^ in ^trliettt.
remedy for all this, expecting to hear a learned and
abstruse system of conduct explained at length,
Francis looked at him quietly, and with a half-sup-
pressed smile, and said, ^'Well, there is only one
thing to be done; you must just do what a little
child does when it tumbles ; get up, and try again."
Perhaps Francis, being a great saint, had learned
the meaning and force of our LORD'S words more
thoroughly than most people ; and we know that our
Lord said that the best way to enter the kingdom of
heaven was to become as a little child; and the
little child that is well disciplined and trained picks
itself up after a fall, and runs on again. This is
just what we must do. There has come, perhaps, a
disastrous end ; we must just make a new beginning.
There is, in fact, no choice about the matter. If
we are not going to give up our Christian profession
and our hopes, what else can we do ? If the farmer
has had a bad harvest, he sows another crop, and
hopes for better things. When the disciples had
been toiling all night, and had taken nothing, our
Lord would only help them on condition that they
let down the net once more. The blessed who are
waiting safely for their resurrection are what they
are because they were never tired of making new
beginnings. Souls are not lost because of their falls
and failures, but because they will not begin again.
Peter fell ; but he kept near his LORD, and presently
he caught His eye, and went out and wept bitterl}^,
very much ashamed of himself, very penitent, very
humble, quite ready to make a new beginning. And
he was pardoned and restored. Judas fell ; but he
was only mortified and angry. Despair followed,
and he was lost. David, the Publican, the Prodigal,
Magdalen, all these fell badly, miserably, but they
repented ; that is, they made a new beginning, and
God, in His mercy, forgave the sin, and blessed and
helped them, when they tried to do better.
IFourtlj ^untia^ itt ^triicnf. 27
Now, is there not great comfort for us, such as we
are, in all this ? Every one gets out of heart some-
times; every one is disposed to be weary in well-
doing sometimes. There is no doctrine of the Gospel
more consoling, more indispensable, than this, that
if we have done wrong or failed we may make a
new beginning. It is a peculiarity of Christ's re-
velation ; it is the introduction of a new and unknown
system into the world's affairs. Nature is inexor-
able ; it makes no allowance for mistakes. What is
done brings its consequences inevitably. There is
no place for repentance, no opportunity for making a
new beginning. And a great part of human affairs
follows the same rule. Laws are made, and if they
are transgressed, there comes the judge, and his sen-
tence. The way of the world is to be hard upon a
man when he is down. '^ You have made your bed,
and now you must lie upon it." There are proverbs
in all languages that tell people that sort of thing.
But Jesus Christ, Himself Alpha and Omega,
the beginning and the ending, is greater than man,
greater than nature. He is not tied and bound
by narrow and unrelaxing laws. His command-
ment is exceeding broad. He introduces the human
element of pity. He works not like a machine,
always in one monotonous and unalterable routine,
the same for all ; but there is the Father's compas-
sion, the weighing of circumstances, the considera-
tion of each case on its own merits, the skilful and
equitable adjustment of the lot of each reasonable
creature, the remembering that we are but dust, the
Creator's knowledge of His creature's weakness and
infirmities, the loving Father's yearning over His
child, ready to forgive, to make excuses, to receive
the weeping penitent, the broken-hearted prodigal,
to meet them half-way and more, to give them
another trial, to encourage them to begin again.
. So that, when we look back at our life, and ara
JfourtlT ^ittttrag in ^titrenf.
ashamed to see how many beginnings we have made,
and are almost incHned to despair, and never to
make another beginning, we must remember that
these beginnings are not lost and wasted efforts.
Where should we have been now if we had not
made them ? They are foundations for yet new
beginnings. The trees at this season have shed all
their beautiful leaves, and they are lying thick upon
the ground. It seems all waste ; but it is not really
so. The leaves will keep the roots warm ; they
will decay, and manure and strengthen their parent
tree, and help it to produce a larger crop of leaves
next spring. So our new beginnings arise from
those old beginnings, that seemed to result in
nothing but disappointing endings. We all know
Bruce's story of the spider and its shattered web,
and how its patient beginning all its spoiled work
again gave the despairing traveller heart and hope
and energy. Look at any of our old towns; dig
down and you will find ruins, and ruins under them.
The place has been sacked and burned and de-
stroyed over and over again since the Romans
first made their camp there; but men have set to
work and built again, and turned old ruins into
foundations of new structures. Sometimes, too, our
beginnings were in the wrong direction, or were
faulty in principle, and so it is well that they soon
came to an end, for they could not have resulted in
any good issue ; just as a badly set limb is some-
times actually broken again by a clever surgeon,
that he may make it as good as it was originally.
The wise Christian man, then, avails himself of
every opportunity to make a new beginning. Advent,
Lent, changes, whether personal or in his surround-
ings, yearly, daily, unexpected changes, all may be
made occasions of new beginnings. There are
always changes; all things come to an end; they,
are always coming to an end; so there must be
JFourtl; ^untra^ in ^bbtnt, 29
constantly new beginnings, if there is life, if there
is to be progress, if we are to avoid stagnation,
decay, death, destruction. Our Master's command
is very broad ; it touches every one, every age, every
circumstance in each man's life and experience;
everything is provided for, everything is covered
by it; it is never taken by surprise. The broad
rule of Christian life is to make a new beginning,
as soon as ever an end comes. Troubles seem
often as if they were exceptions ; they look as if
they were never coming to an end ; but they do
end at last, sometimes in other troubles, sometimes
only at death. Pleasures come to an end ; privileges,
friendships, spiritual opportunities, particular kinds
of work or employment. Some things last a longer,
some a shorter time ; but none are without an end.
We are always saying, '^ Well, that's done ; there's
an end of that." Sometimes we are glad, some-
times sorry ; but the next thought must be, ^' What
have I to do now ? What have I to begin ? "
As He hung upon the Cross, the Saviour of the
world contemplated the work He had come into the
world to do, and which He so earnestly desired to
accomplish, and He cried with restful content, " It
is finished." But then He began again a new work,
for ^' He ever liveth, a Priest, to make intercession
for us." There is no idleness in anything that GOD
has made, nor in any creature that does His will.
There will be some day an end of this life for each
of us, as we see day by day the end coming to
those side by side with us; and some people talk
as if we were going to rest for ever after that.
Well, I hope we shall rest from pain and sorrow
and separation and sin; but we shall surely find
a new beginning awaiting us beyond the grave, an
active, progressive, busy life, with God's command-
ment reaching over and around us still ; and in ful-
filling of that commandment our duty and our joy.
JFirst Suntias after Cljristma^.
MICHAEL'S Al^SWER TO SATAN,
Christmas ever brings to our minds the thought
of the holy angels. When we have adored the
Incarnate GOD, and can take our thoughts off from
wondering at His humiliation and praising His love,
we find ourselves face to face with the holy angels.
When God became an inhabitant of the earth, then
a door was opened in heaven, and the songs that
never cease before the throne of the Eternal were
heard for once here below. For once men's eyes
were opened and the heavenly host was revealed,
the glorious, beautiful, sinless elder sons of GoD,
worshipping, rejoicing in the love of GOD and in
the salvation of men. They will teach us how to
keep Christmastide ; they will teach us how to
worship, how to demean ourselves in the presence
of the miracle of love which was wrought in the
Incarnation.
See how selfless was their joy. They mention
only God and men. They marvel at the conde-
scension of God ; they rejoice in the salvation of
men. Their love to GOD was already all-absorbing,
but a new phase of it created in them new ex-
pressions, new songs. Man's salvation did not
alter their condition of perfect happiness, but their
sympathy was roused at the thought of man's re-
demption, and their joy found its vent in hymns of
gladness.
But there is a deeper lesson than all this in the
30
yirst ^ttttia^ after dtijrxstmas. 31
angels' attitude with respect to the Incarnation.
The angels were God's creation, long before man
existed. They had their probation, as we have
ours, and some of their number fell. It is believed
by wise and holy men that this probation was in
some way connected with man, and his redemption
by the Incarnate Son of GOD. Michael the arch-
angel was the leader of the hosts of the faithful and
obedient angels, and perhaps we have in those
words of his, recorded by St. Jude, ^^ The LORD
rebuke thee," something more than a mere reply
to the Evil One, when he disputed about the body
of Moses.
There seems to be in these words a declaration
of faith, a policy, if we may so call it, that ruled
and guided the angels that sinned not all through
the long ages of the past, and which must still hve
in their souls, and govern their thoughts and con-
duct. May we not believe that to the minds of the
angels the existence of evil was a difficulty and a
stumbHng-block, as it is to us ; that they desired to
look into this and other mysteries of Go I), and yet
were not permitted to see and understand; and
may we not imagine that when the temptation came
to impatience, or rebelHon, or doubt of God's power
or goodness or love, the reply to the tempter would
be but this, " The LORD rebuke thee " ?
Long after, when Abraham, the typical faithful
man, was tried sorely, he in like manner waited
patiently upon GOD in darkness and bitter pain ; so
that his name ever after became the symbol of
living, mighty faith, and a proverb arose from the
memories of Moriah, '' In the mount of the LORD it
shall be seen." It meant this — wait on patiently
till God's time comes, and all will be well; bear
bravely till the end, and the end will bring relief
and joy; go on all the long way to the land that
God points out ; go up the mountain to the very top,
32 yirst ^untra^ after Cljnstmas.
there, and not till you are there, will you see the
meaning of God's strange command, of GOD's hard
task.
So it seems as if Michael's words were justified
to-day — '^The LORD rebuke thee." Michael knew
not why evil should exist, why it should triumph,
why man should fall beneath its sway; but he
trusted GOD, who knew better than he, and he left
the controversy in His hands. And now, at Christ-
mastide, the mystery begins to be made clear. GOD
has stooped from heaven to become Man. He has
taken the matter into His own hands. He has ranged
Himself, as a Man, on man's side, against the Evil
One, and will give him his answer in tremendous
blows upon his kingdom and power.
** The one rough word," with which the son of
Sirach says GOD could crush out evil, was not spoken,
but, instead, the Word of GOD was made flesh, and
tabernacled among us. We see Him to-day, a silent
Word ; speechless, yet not by weakness, but by love ;
speechless, yet fulfilling the will of GOD ; speechless,
yet the Saviour of men.
But even then the magnificent trust of Michael
and the holy angels did not end. It looked unlike
a revelation of power and victory, when they saw
their GOD humbled beyond all understanding, hidden
in the poor little helpless body of a new-born babe.
But they rested their whole weight upon GOD, and
v/aited. Then came the flight into Egypt ; weakness,
still, it seemed. There were danger and fear, but
no signs of conquest ; nothing clear yet. Then the
obscure life at Nazareth, the carpenter's Son; still
no trumpet-call to bid them set on and vindicate
God and truth and right. Then the three years'
ministry ; miracles indeed, but even wicked men
were not vanquished ; and where was the conquest
of evil spirits, and of the vast empire of evil, through-
out the works of GOD ? If any evil one whispered
yitsl §^nnha^ after (Kbrhtntaa. 33
this in Michael's ear, the reply was still but this —
" The Lord rebuke thee."
Then came the awful events of Calvary ; awful
indeed to the angels who knew Who it was that
hung upon the Cross; awful beyond all that we
can conceive to them, when they heard that cry,
" My God, My GOD, why hast Thou forsaken Me ? "
But still they endured, and waited, and the Resur-
rection must have been to them even more than it
was to the apostles.
We might go further yet. The history of the
Church ; the state of the world all along the Christian
era down to this very day ; the terrible sight of souls
rebelhng against GOD, and working out their own
sure ruin, in spite of Bethlehem and Calvary; the
agonising sight of the misery of multitudes through
man's abuse of his power as GOD'S steward in the
government of the world, of his misuse of his dele-
gated authority, of his waste of precious gifts, of
his perversion of mighty agencies. Still, surely the
tempter might sneer and boast, and try to over-
throw the angels' steadfastness by pointing out all
these signs of seeming failure ; and still surely, day
by day, whenever the doubt was suggested, perhaps
this very day, the old reply has been made by angelic
lips — '' The Lord rebuke thee." Nothing but this ;
no argument, no reviling, no wavering of faith ; but
only this — '' The LORD rebuke thee."
Let the angels, then, teach us to-day. Let Michael
give an answer for us to those who would think
Gabriel's mission has failed, and who would throw
a dark shade over the brightness of our Christmas
season. They point out to us the growing power
of evil. They say that now the victory will come,
and that the name of GOD shall soon be blotted out,
even from the memories of the people. They tell
us that the Church is doomed, that Christianity is
played out, that we have been deceived and deluded,
C
34 yirat ^xtntra^ after Clrristmas.
and that men are wiser now. Shall we not say too,
to-day, standing by the Manger, '' ^ The LORD rebuke
thee.' I cannot understand all this; I cannot
answer your arguments ; but I believe in GOD ; I
rest on GOD ; I love GOD, and I leave it all in His
hands " ?
Or does the tempter spoil our Christmastide by
stirring up within us discontent at our lot, im-
patience under our troubles, weariness under the
monotony of a dreary Hfe ? Does he tempt us to
despair because of our want of progress in the
spiritual life and victory over faults ? Does he tell
us that it is of no use to try to do right, or to resist
those who would lead us downwards ? Then let
us answer him, as Michael answered him, ^' ' The
Lord rebuke thee.' Where I cannot see, I can still
believe. Where my faith totters, my love holds
fast. I kneel to-day in the stable at Bethlehem ;
my God has done all that for me ; He will do more
yet ; more than I can ask or think ; all that I need.
I can find no master, no lord, better than He. I
will cling to Him in spite of all in life, and com-
mend my soul to Him when I come to die."
SeconU Suntiag after Cfjrfetmag.
«/ WOULD NOT LIVE ALWAY."
Of late years books have been written, and much
newspaper and other correspondence has taken
place, on the question whether life is worth living.
The inquiry is by no means a new one. The Greek
philosophers held discussions on the same matter ;
Gautema Buddha in India found himself involved
in this great controversy; and if fanaticism and
brutaHty had not destroyed the libraries of the
old world, we should doubtless have been reading
to-day learned treatises on human life and its
characteristics, written when that mummy lately
unwound in London was a living man, some four
or five thousand years ago.
The Book of Job is beHeved to represent men's
thoughts at a period earlier than that which any
other book of the Bible records, and we find in it
discussions respecting this life, its merits and its
disadvantages, and the net result is summed up
in the conclusion, '' I would not live alway." Job
does not mean that he has no belief in and desire
for immortahty, for that we find him asserting and
rejoicing in elsewhere. But he says that, from his
knowledge and experience of human Hfe as it is,
best and worst, he would not wish it to be in-
definitely prolonged, that he would not wish to " live
alway " here in this world, either because Hfe is
not satisfactory, or because he has a sure faith in a
life to come, which will be better and more satisfying.
35
36 ^errmtr ^un&a^ after Clrrtstntas*
Let us then, on this, the first Sunday of a New
Year, try and take a calm retrospective and pro-
spective view of human Hfe, as it is now, and see
whether we too come to the same conclusion as did
wise and holy Job in his far-off age, and say, " I
would not live alway."
There have been pessimists in all ages of the
world, men and women, mostly poor creatures,
selfish, unloving, unloved, useless, godless people,
who have taken a dark and despairing view of life.
Such was Schopenhauer, called by his admirers
'' the king of modern thought." This man declared
that existence was an unmitigated evil, and that
the world was the worst possible world. He pro-
fessed that his constant aim was to acquire a clear
view of the utter despicability of mankind. With
all this, he was himself utterly selfish, immoral, and
mean. His mother could not live with him, because
of his persistent ill-temper and brutality. One of
his greatest admirers declared that he was dis-
tinguished by boisterous arrogance, and vanity in
the worst sense of the word; that neglect exasperated
him ; that he was ever suspicious and irritable. He
was always in a state of morbid fear of death,
misfortune, and illness. He was an atheist. He
despised women. He ridiculed the idea of patriotism,
and of pity for the poor and unfortunate. He was
grossly sensual, and indulged freely in the coarsest
animal pleasures.
We may surely put aside the verdict of such
men. With all their talents, they are scarcely
human. There seems to be something diabolical
in their nature. These apostles of the gospel of
hate, then, may be disregarded by those who desire
to be guided by the gospel of the love of GOD and
of goodwill towards men. Human nature is not
altogether bad. Human life is not all misery, or a
mistake. The primeval curse does not always work.
^erotttr ^xttttra^ after (Klrriatmaa, 37
The sweet atmosphere of the lost Paradise is still
sometimes wafted through its closed and guarded
gates. Every one of us has spent many happy
hours. We have loved and been loved. We have
to-day many blessings, many joys. And yet we
shall probably be quite ready to endorse what Job
says elsewhere, that ''man is born to trouble, as
the sparks fly upward."
Take the very first stage of human existence.
The new-born babe comes into the world weeping
in pain. Life begins with tears and suffering. Who
has not seen some poor little infant's face distorted
with convulsions ; the fragile frame racked with
agony, fighting for breath ? That period of fife is
generally, indeed, placid and peaceful, but it is at
best but a very low and imperfect kind of existence.
None of us would say of it, otherwise than that thus
at least, '' I would not live alway."
Then comes Childhood. Poets and some others
speak of this stage of life as if it were a period
of careless gaiety and unmixed joyousness. It is
said —
" Ah ! happy years !
Who would not be a child once more ? "
People look enviously upon the rude health, the
buoyant spirits, the freedom from the worries,
anxieties, and responsibilities that surround and
oppress them, and unreasonably persuade them-
selves that child-life is all pleasure. But is it so
really ? What mean, then, those frequent tears ?
What shall we say of the irksome duty of obedience,
the struggle of the untrained nature against unin-
telligible restraints and regulations, the constant
crossings of the will and the incHnation, the gradual
and painful bending and moulding of the wild and
free spirit into the routine of custom and conven-
tionalities ?
38 ^£j:0ttir ^ttntta^ after (Kljnatmas*
Think of the slow acquisition of learning. What
hard work it is, so unnatural, so distasteful, so
tedious, so vexatious, so hopelessly long ! Not that
there is not all this time much real pleasure and
enjoyment. But the question is, should we like to
''live always" thus; should we be content to be
always in a state of childhood, with its mental little-
ness, its pains, and its joys ? Should we, grown-up
men and women, with our knowledge of a higher
life, be wilHng, if it might be, to *' live always " as
children ?
Next comes Youth. The troubles of childhood
are now gone, but all relish for its pleasures has also
gone. We cannot emerge from one condition and
enter upon another, and carry its share of happiness
with us. We have always to strike a balance
between the good and the evil of our present cir-
cumstances. '' Man never continueth in one stay."
The greatest obstacle to present enjoyment is the
restless, eager desire for something that is not ours.
Youth is indeed a golden time, but much of its solid
worth is flung away to clutch a shadowy boon that
hope's flattering tale promises.
So Youth passes ; and perhaps the much-desired
advantages are gained, independence, marriage, posi-
tion, honour. But what now ? What means the
anxious expression on the faces of men and women ?
What do they say of themselves and their life ? Are
they quite satisfied ? Would they like to '' live
always " just as they are ? Is there not ever just
something wanting, this to be removed, that to be
obtained, that feared possibiHty that lowers, that
bitterness that each heart knows ?
Lastly, there comes Old Age. Nature clings to
life, but this is not so much from love of hfe as from
fear of death. So old-world flattery addressed the
favourites of fortune with the formula, "Live for
ever." But, in sober earnest, who would ''live
^e£0ntr ^untra^ after (KIrnatmaa. 39
alway " with all the penalties of old age upon them ?
Greek fable imagined one who had asked and
obtained from the gods immortaHty, but had failed
to ask and obtain perpetual youth, and so he lived
on in misery ; and Tennyson well depicts him
moaning thus : —
" The strong Hours indignant worked their wills,
And beat me down and marred and wasted me,
And though they could not end me, left me maimed,
To dwell in presence of immortal youth ;
Immortal age beside immortal youth ;
And all I was, in ashes ! "
Thus, then, we have briefly sketched man's life in
its successive ages, and we cannot find one of which
we can heartily say, '' In this I would ' live alway.' "
If indeed a man could always enjoy good health,
perpetual youth, freedom from poverty and trouble,
he might be content to live always in this world.
But who can expect this ? Who has ever had such
an experience ? It never has been ; it never can
be. We must take the world as it is, and human
life as many thousand years prove that it must
always be, and with life as it is no one is really
satisfied.
The animals live and rest in the present. Man
has another and a higher instinct which the animal
does not possess, which blindly craves for something
never yet attained. Many, alas ! are little better
than dumb, unprogressive animals ; they try to make
this world their home, and to find satisfaction in
it; and they become ill-tempered, restless, savage,
beast-like, because they fail.
But the spiritual man is full of aspirations. The
more his soul is educated and cultured, the more
insatiable wants does he develop. The charms
of nature cannot be fully grasped; they are not
infinite, but in our most delicious moments we feel
all-unable to rise to the complete enjoyment of what
40 ^ernntr ^ttttJra^ after (K5[natma«.
we see and hear, sunsets, mountains, a starry night,
music, the silent eloquence of a summer's day, a
beautiful face, a heart-to-heart talk with a man
whom we love and honour. And then there are
the boundless fields of knowledge and discovery;
the secret powers of the universe, its history ; our
own nature and its undeveloped endowments; the
wonders of life beyond this little world. Who that
has ventured even ankle-deep into the margin of the
limitless, unfathomable ocean of thought and know-
ledge would say of this life, ^* I would live alway " ?
Nor is this all. There are yet more and more
noble longings which remain unsatisfied, inconsol-
able here ; the desire for sinlessness ; the passionate
yearning for soul-purity; the loathing of our own
infirmities, our own despicable failures; a vague,
glorious ideal self that we feel is strugghng for birth
within us, kept down by the flesh, that cannot ex-
pand into its full strength here in the midst of all this
finite and feeble environment ; the groping in the sur-
rounding darkness towards the far-off, dimly dis-
cerned realm of light; the unquenchable belief in
truth in the midst of delusions and the falseness that
crushes us and sometimes almost stifles us into de-
spair and unbelief; the mysterious capacities for love
that have never yet found their proper sphere ; the
profound conviction that there are those whom we
could love without reserve, better than ourselves,
whom we could honour and reverence, for whom we
could live and sacrifice all we have and are, and in
that sacrifice find hitherto unimagined joys. In a
word, " My soul is athirst for GOD ; " and therefore of
this life I must say, ^' I would not live alway."
Jtrst Suntiag after ©pipljang.
IDEALS.
We might almost define man as a creature that
conceives ideals. The animals have no ideals, no
aspirations, no regrets, no disappointments. They
remain the same always, and are content, and at
peace. But human beings, as soon as they develop
consciousness, begin to be restless with ardent desires
after something that their imagination tells them is
desirable.
The little child can hardly be said to have an
ideal, for its wants and wishes are so rapidly formed
and forgotten, that it has much more in common
with the lower animals than with the reasonable and
reflecting man. But as the child's intellect develops,
it very soon conceives ideals, and is most eager and
impetuous in trying to realise them. Its ideals are
neither lofty nor permanent, but they give rise to
action and passion ; and the sad truth is soon dis-
covered that human ideals are not usually attained.
Disappointment and tears follow, but some new
thought speedily dissipates them, and another object
of desire engages the attention.
Youth is the time of all others for the conceptions
of ideals. All life, all the world, all possibilities,
seem before the young mind. The blood runs hot
and vigorously; the imagination is active; hope
leads on joyously and confidently; the present is
impatiently endured ; the future is clothed with every
rainbow tint ; matter-of-fact counsels and grave fore-
41
42 yirst ^utttra^ after ^ptirl^an^.
bodings are thrust aside as utterly unworthy of
attention.
Experience, and nothing but experience, teaches
how mistaken most of these youthful ideals are.
Generation after generation has the same experience,
yet they are few indeed who learn wisdom by any
other experience than their own, or who purchase
prudence in any cheaper market than that of dis-
appointment and suffering.
Yet no thoughtful man would rob the young of
their ideals. The young man or woman who has
no ideal is not worth much ; for the power of origi-
nating ideals is, as we have said, a characteristic
that distinguishes man from the lower animals, and
it abides with man all his life through. Without an
ideal, man stands still or retrogrades. The savage
man has his ideal, such as it is ; and every stage of
civilisation, every rank and condition of life, has its
ideals.
One method of discovering generally what is the
ideal of a people, is to find out what is their ideal
heaven. The North American native hoped for
happy hunting-grounds, freedom from hunger, and
safe repose after congenial exertion. The hardy
warriors of ancient Europe looked forward to suc-
cessful fighting, good eating, and hard drinking. All
the world over burial customs show that uncivilised
races desired the occupations and pleasures of this
life, without its pains and sorrows. We may judge,
perhaps, truly of Mahomet and his religious system,
by seeing that, in spite of what some panegyrists claim
for- him, his ideal was a mere sensual Paradise, from
which half the human race, even if all accepted his
teaching, would be excluded.
But keeping to our own country and our own
times, let us think for a moment how important to
each one of us is our own ideal. Take, for example,
the case of marriage. Marriages are contracted for
yirst ^uttJra^ after ^piirljatt^. 43
many reasons, but the ordinary marriage of affection
is really founded upon an ideal. The man conceives
in his mind the thought of an ideal woman, the one
woman who can make him happy. Presently he
thinks he discovers this ideal woman. Probably
there are some features of his ideal in her, and
passion, imagination, and hope persuade him that
they are all there; and many an unhappy marriage
has for its secret of failure the discovery that the
ideal was so largely imagination, and so little reality.
The same may be said of many women's disappoint-
ments with their husbands. Ideal perfections do
not exist, either in men or women, and those who
flatter themselves that they have met with an instance
and appropriated it to themselves have usually a very
sad awakening from their dream.
But even if the search for the ideal is disappointed
in one direction, it is quite certain to be directed in
some other. Every one at this moment has an ideal
in their inmost heart. The mother broods over an
ideal life for her child. The middle-aged man, sobered
indeed by many a hope unrealised, but still uncon-
verted from the human innate passion, dwells in
quiet moments upon his ideal future, his ideal home,
his ideal attainment. And no sooner is the search
for and pursuit of an ideal disappointed in one
direction than it is commenced in another direction.
Even the old have their ideals. The worst of them,
childish ideals revived, petty, selfish, self-indulgent
thoughts and desires; the best of them, ideals in
which those dear to them figure rather than they
themselves, and hopes that reach on into another
life, the fruit of a mature wisdom, the outcome of a
life's experience that has sobered, not soured, and
extended the horizon of hope, instead of perverting
it into despair.
So far we have considered present and individual
ideals ; but there is another class that relates to
44 yirst ^utttra^ afttr (Bpip^attf .
man's wider relations. Civilised man has always
had ideals as regards states and governments,
kingdoms and communities. Plato long ago com-
mitted to writing the plan of his ideal Republic. Sir
Thomas More wrote his under the title of " Utopia."
Others have executed similar works. Men have
tried many forms of government, and have elabo-
rated various schemes of laws, but as yet the perfect
system has not been discovered that will command
the respect and obedience of all. We in our own
day have seen kings and republics, emperors and
constitutions, made and overthrown ; and still the
work is going on, and we seem as far off an ideal
system as ever. And now there is rising up in
Europe a deep underground, widespread ideal, vague,
unformed ; only, its promoters tell us that it will
and must come, and that the seed-bed of its growth
will be the ruin-heap under which lie buried all
present governments, all civiHsation, all industry,
art, science, all the fruits of man's labour and
thought these many weary centuries. An awful
prospect indeed ! — an ideal that seems to be nothing
else than the fruit of a madman's morbid brain,
the terrible offspring of despair and degradation, of
hereditary crime, that has turned men into savage
beasts that can do nothing but hurt and destroy !
But now, as regards the Church, how much may
be explained, how much may be patiently endured,
if we go on to the natural conclusion from all this,
that an ideal Church does not exist, has never
existed, and will never exist upon the earth ! The
book of the Acts of the Apostles, the Epistles, and
the Apocalypse show plainly enough that there
was no perfect Church in the first age. History
tells the same story on every page. Some sigh
after the primitive Church ; some long after the
mediaeval Church. They create an ideal Church,
and imagine that it has existed. It is a mistake.
yirat ^utttra^ after (Bpxjrlrait^. 45
Others originate sects, which are to be free from
the evils they lament in the Church ; but other and
greater evils spontaneously spring up in the virgin
soil, and the ideal Church is still as unknown as the
ideal state, or the ideal man or woman.
There is but one more ideal that we can notice — our
ideal self; not our surroundings, of which we have
spoken, home or occupations or companions or other
accidents external to ourselves, but our inner spiritual
selves. Who has not an ideal self? Who has
not dreamed of what he might be, could be, if, and
if — if certain conditions could be obtained. One
man's ideal is a poet, another a statesman, another
a general, another a saint, another a sage, another
a Solomon in his sensual luxury. We may learn
a great deal about our real self, if we will gravely
analyse this ideal self. Alas ! it is very often nothing
but the joint creation of pride and selfishness.
But not always. This ideal self may be the true
spiritual man, cramped and prisoned in the natural
man, as the butterfly is folded up in the chrysalis.
Have not all men and women who have been great
and good and useful first conceived their ideal self,
and then by force of will more or less reaHsed it ?
Tell me what is your ideal self, and I will tell you
what you are. What is your ideal self? Is it
something higher, purer, nobler, more spiritual,
more loving, more self-sacrificing, than your poor
real everyday self? Do you not merely day-
dream about it, but strive to attain it ; not weakly
lamenting your inferiority to it, as the woman, no
longer young, vexes herself as she looks at her own
portrait in the heyday of her charms, but as the
youth who reads of noble deeds, and says, " I too
will do the like " ? Do you feel within an unquench-
able desire to rise, like the poor caged eagle that is
ever spreading its wings for flight up to the clear blue ?
Rejoice, then, and hope. In all the wide world of
46 yirat ^tttt&a^ after (Bfiipljan^.
God's creation there has never yet been found an
instinct that has not its proper fulfilment. As the
young bird, taught by GOD alone, flies ; as the ant
works in community ; as the insect provides for its
coming transformations, so the soul of man yearns
and prepares for its coming development, its higher
unfettered life, taught by GOD alone, led on by faith,
not by experience. CHRIST Himself blesses these
aspirations. What He came into the world to teach
itself gave rise to these supernatural longings, to
these superhuman ideals.
What is the source of noble ideals ? Is it not the
stirring within us of faculties that cannot now and
here find their proper field of exercise ? Is it not
the straining for the birth of powers that this world
of sense and change, these bodies of matter, cannot
sustain, cannot gratify ? Was not man made in the
image of GoD ? Has not the Pattern-Man been seen
in the world ? He came, indeed, as a poor ignorant
peasant, but in Him were all the possibilities of human
perfection. The perfect king, the perfect magistrate,
the perfect husband and father, were there in His per-
fect human nature. As you may clothe the man with
the insignia of any office, so, having the perfect man,
all human vocations may be assumed. All fulness
dwelt in the CHRIST, all goodness, all the special
qualities that special callings demand. By Chrtst
all good kings exercised their kingcraft ; from Him,
as from an inexhaustible fountain, all wisdom has
flowed, that has made men great in their several
destinies, physicians, discoverers, scientists, saints.
He hid His powers, but they have been revealed in
His servants ; in one, one gift ; in another, another.
All noble human characteristics come from the Man
Christ Jesus. All the good that we are conscious of
in ourselves is from Him, after His likeness. And
He in us, by His Spirit, can make this grow and
develop, till our ideal self is realised.
yirat ^untra^ after Cptpljan^. 47
Wait, then, and hope, O aspiring soul of man !
Hold fast that shadowy ideal that seems so thin and
intangible, and yet is so real to you, so inseparable
from your inmost life. Material things are not so
firm and certain, are not so abiding and true, as the
things unseen and spiritual. This world, and the
things in it, and we ourselves, are but the shadows
of the great realities in the unseen universe. For
this we look ; in this we believe ; the ideal city, the
city that hath foundations whose Builder and Maker
is God ; the ideal State, the Kingdom established in
righteousness; the ideal Church, without spot or
wrinkle or any such thing ; the ideal self, ourselves
made after the image of CHRIST, the perfect Man,
satisfied with His likeness.
Seconti Suntias after CHptpfjang*
ALWAYS SOMETHING WANTING.
The Gospel story tells us to-day that in the
midst of the supper at the marriage at Cana '* they
wanted wine." So the wedding festival was spoiled,
and the givers of the feast were shamed, and a
shadow fell upon the brightness of their wedding-
day for the bride and bridegroom. Perhaps they
were poor, and this entertainment was a little beyond
their means, "whose hoard was little, but whose
heart was great;" perhaps more guests had come
than were expected, for on such days open house
is kept, and warm and generous hearts are lavish
with invitations. But, come as it might, here was
an unlooked-for disappointment, an annoyance, where
all should have been pleasure and gladness.
Probably it was the custom then, as it is now,
to flatter and exaggerate a good deal on wedding-
days; to speak only of the bright side of hfe; to
ignore all unpleasant possibilities ; to '^ make believe,"
as children do in their play; and to assume that
trouble and sorrow and disappointment do not exist,
or that they will not affect the persons now be-
ginning life together. But there, at Cana, as so
often still, there broke in this discord in the marriage
melody, an unwelcome matter-of-fact reminder that
human life is, after all, not unmixed happiness, let
people do and say what they may. Novels pour
out in an endless stream from the press in which
he and she are led through a variety of experiences,
48
^erontr ^ntttia^ after ^piplratt^. 49
but the end comes alike in all, "And so they were
married, and lived happily together ever after."
People never seem to tire of reading this sort of
thing. Our lending libraries are full of such books,
and they are read by hundreds, while other books
are read but by tens. Every one knows that the
picture is not true to life; yet every one seems to
conspire to keep up the delusion. Every one knows
that there are unhappy marriages. Courts of law
and common talk prove it by stubborn, disagreeable
facts. Every one knows that for two persons to
live intimately together, all their lives, having to
bear with each other's faults and infirmities, to love
and honour one another under all circumstances,
to be fast-loving, inalienable friends from youth to
age, is a very different thing from the novel ideal
and wedding-day talk. None know this better than
those who have most wisely and most happily
married. Ten, or twenty, or thirty years of married
life, they find, has not weakened the old love. There
it is to-day, as it was on the wedding-day, and
before; and there is added to it now respect, and
confidence, and gratitude, which the experience of
years has caused to grow up. The face may have
lost its youthful charms ; the hair may have thinned
and turned grey; but new beauties have been
discovered; another, and a deeper admiration has
arisen. Those two hearts are growing more dear,
more necessary to one another, as life goes on.
This is what happens in every true marriage.
But for all that, every one knows that human life,
under all circumstances, is a chequered scene, neither
all pleasure nor all trouble; for its troubles are
rendered bearable by counteracting comforts, and
there are none of its joys without some alloy. Chil-
dren do not understand this. Their little troubles
utterly overwhelm them, while they last, which,
happily, is not long ; and their hopes are so hot and
so ^erotttr ^tttttra^ after (Bpiplratt^.
eager, that all idea of disappointment or drawback
is thrust away with resistless impatience. But the
strange thing is, that these childish ideas linger on
into what ought to be mature life. It is said that
'' men are but children of a larger growth ; " and are
we not very often astonished to see the childishness
of men and women ? Old people are said to come
to a '^ second childhood ; " and most truly ; for many
of the faults of childhood reappear with the weak-
ness and infirmities of old age — selfishness, curiosity,
greediness, impatience, ill-temper, and such like.
But are not childish faults apparent in other people
all through life ; specially this hope of unmixed good ?
No sooner is one hope disappointed than another
is taken up. No wisdom is learned by experience.
Hope's flattering tale is told over and over again,
and always beheved. Men and women rest their
whole weight upon one reed after another, that breaks
under their hand ; and yet they never seem to learn
that there is nothing in this world of ours that is
made to be thus leaned upon. There is a saying,
^' You cannot put old heads on young shoulders ; "
but very often we seem to see young heads on old
shoulders; childish inexperience and unwisdom in
those who ought long ago to have put away such
childish things. People speak of their troubles as
if they were quite exceptional, and demand sympathy
and pity, as if some strange thing had happened to
them ; whereas a little thought would tell them that
there is nothing new in the matter, but only that
which is common to man, an oft-told tale. Sickness,
the loss of friends and dearer ones, disappointments,
misfortunes, these always come unexpected to some
people. They are never prepared for them ; and so
they cannot bear them with any sort of patience or
resignation. They live year after year in the world,
yet never learn the plain, broad, unvarying features
of human life ; they are always being taken by sur-
^ernnit ^utttra^ after (BptiJlratt^. 51
prise. And so some persons become soured and
cynical, and say that life is not worth having, and
exaggerate the evils of the world, as others magnify its
good things. But this too is very like an ill-tempered,
sulky child, who will not Hsten to kind friends and
loving companions, but mopes apart, because some-
thing has gone wrong and displeased him.
We might have expected that our LORD, when He
came into the world as one of us, would have set all
this right. If He came to take away the curse, and
to redeem us from the effects of the Fall, we might
have thought that He would at the same time heal
all the world's sores, and make all bright and sound
again. But this was not His will. His ^^ hour had
not yet come." He came into the world, and instead
of doing away with the ills of human life. He simply
bore them alongside of us. He felt pain, and poverty,
and ignorance, and obscurity. He was hungry,
and thirsty, and weary. He was disappointed with
friends. He fell into misfortunes. He was at this
wedding, for example, when the wine ran short.
He was in the ship when the sudden storm came on.
He stood and wept by the grave-side of one who
was very dear to Him.
But it will be said, He provided wine by miracle ;
He assuaged the storm ; He raised Lazarus to life.
True enough ; He manifested thus His Divine power ;
He vindicated His mission ; He proclaimed Himself
to be God. But how many died whom He did not
raise ; how many storms were there that raged and
destroyed, and He never spake the word, " Peace,
be still;" how many sick were not healed; how.
many sore, sad hearts had to bear their trouble to
the end, though He was near, and knew all, and
could have stopped the evil with a word, and yet did
not ! He, and no one else, had the power to do away
with Hfe's ills, and, except in a few cases, and for a
special purpose, He never interfered, but let all go
52 ^ernntr ^KttJra^ after ^piplran^.
on, while He lived in the midst of them, just as He
had done before and has done ever since.
The fact is, our LORD did not come to be the old
world's hoped-for Saviour, to restore the golden age,
and give man all he desires here upon earth. He
did not come to be the Jewish Messiah, to conquer
all nations with the sword, and set up a world-wide
dominion of justice and peace. No; He came to be
one of us ; one with us in our joys and sorrows ; to
show us how to use these wisely, and to bear those
patiently. He came to tell us the certainty of that
which man always hoped for, another life, a better
world, a reward for well-doing, a sphere in which
to exercise the qualities gained, the character formed
here, in this rough schoolroom. He came here but
as a stranger and sojourner, like ourselves. His
Home and ours is in our Father's House above. If
His passing touch, His Hght word, when He pleased
to use them, did such mighty things, and healed all
the ills of life, what would He have us learn by this,
but that in the land where He is King and LORD
these sweet, mighty influences are ever coming forth
from Him, and sheltering His beloved from all harm,
and giving them all good things ?
Here there is always some flaw in the best. Here
nothing is perfect. The wedding-feast is marred
by an unlooked-for want. At the marriage-feast of
the Lamb there will be no wants ; for the guests of
God will in Him possess all things, and they " hunger
no more, neither thirst any more."
EfjtrtJ cSuntiag after (Eptptans*
THE END OF DESTRUCTIONS.
We speak commonly of ^'The Psalms of David."
Many of the Psalms were doubtless written by him,
but others were probably by much earlier authors ;
and besides that, that which they and David himself
penned was almost certainly more or less the re-
production of the words of men of still farther-off
ages. The Psalms, then, hand down to us the
thoughts, aspirations, and sorrows of many genera-
tions of godly men. " One touch of nature makes
the whole world kin ; " and the Psalms are alive
with human nature, and therefore are still, and ever
will be, valued by the thoughtful and the godly, for
they come home to every heart that strains up-
ward through life's varied experiences towards GOD.
'' Deep answereth to deep." The sorrow that each
heart knows, the joy that no stranger intermeddleth
with, these are echoed from the Psalms in the inner
recesses of the souls of men age after age. And
as time goes on, and hght is given more and
more, new depths are discovered, new truths,
wider signification.
David, in his Httle kingdom, gains a victory over
some petty prince, who threatened him, and had
long harassed his borders and laid waste his people's
lands, and so he cries with restful thankfulness,
^' O thou enemy, thy destructions are come to an
end ; " and he writes down his hymn of praise and
thanksgiving, and it is stored in the national archives,
S3
54 f^^irtr ^ittttra^ after Cpiplran^.
and the Levite choirs bring it out again and again,
and chant it as paeon of victory on many a jubilant
fete-day.
But this is not all. Just as the pebble dropped
into the mirror-like pool raises a circling ripple that
goes on widening and spreading till it has reached
the very farthest limits of the water, so these
local commemorations find a larger sense in world-
wide interests, and in the aspirations of mankind,
that are not bounded by the four corners of the
earth, nor by the poor possibilities of this present
life.
There can never have been a time when men did
not lament the evils of the world, the sorrows and
disappointments of human life, the waste and de-
structions of some unseen enemy of man and his
peace. Men have had their theories about the
origin of this evil, which have varied in different
lands and in different ages, but poetry and prayer
there must ever have been, expressing the yearnings
of suffering man for deliverance, and the hope, more
or less clear, that these destructions would end, that
this enemy would be overthrown.
As we look back over the ages, we can see plainer
than the old-world men could see, that the reign
of destruction is sensibly passing away. We read
the great stone-book that lies under our feet, and
which we in this last time have been counted
worthy to open, and we find certain proof of the
dominion of destruction in far-off, prehistoric times.
The rocks tell little else but a story of destruction,
of destructions one after another. Fire, ice, water,
earthquake, all have wrought destruction upon the
earth, till now their power seems to be well-nigh
spent, and the earth is fit for human habitation.
So, too, in geological eras there were fierce beasts
on land and in sea. There was nothing but mutual
destruction. Now these monsters are extinct, and
fflrxrtr ^untra^ after ^pxplratt^. 55
their weaker successors, the beasts of prey of to-day,
are gradually being exterminated, and we can foresee
the time when they too will be absolutely extinct,
and none but useful and gentle beasts will be found
upon the earth.
• Look, again, at man's history ; savage man but a
higher kind of beast, a destroyer and little more ;
old-world kingdoms chiefly devoted to war, great
destroyers. Alas that we cannot yet say of the
nations, ^' They learn war no more ! " But we are
ashamed of ourselves for our wars ; we praise
peace ; we count men great nowadays for other
work than successful warfare. We begin to see
that destroying is but a low occupation ; that
creating and building up and improving are nobler
employments for man.
The child is a destroyer, but growth in wisdom
makes us ashamed of childish ways, and we rejoice
in construction, instead of destruction. So, surely,
mankind at large has passed its barbarous boyhood,
and is becoming full-grown, conscious of glorious
powers, eager to use them. The good time has not
come yet, but we look on in hope and faith, and say,
*^ Destruction shall come to an end."
Ah, it has been weary waiting ! Think, for
example, only of that which the Psalmist dwells
upon, the destruction of goodly cities, their very
'' memorial perished with them." Traverse the wide
world, and you will never get far away from ruins.
Babylon, Nineveh, Persepolis, Greece, Rome, even
America, the '^ New World," as men called it, is
strewed thickly from north to its far-off south with
wondrous stone monuments and earth-mounds, that
tell of high civiHsation, advanced art; and then,
destruction ! Islands in the midst of the ocean,
hundreds of miles from any other land, possess
ruins that tell us only this, that once men of skill
and knowledge lived and thought and worked there.
56 ^hittf ^tttttra^ after (Bpiplratt^,
But who they were, when they Hved, what their
sculptured writing means, no one can tell us ; " their
memorial is perished with them."
Alas ! we sometimes fear that even in our own
dear land this may yet be. There are awful elements
of destruction working and seething in our midst.
If these mad mobs of godless, senseless, debased
men burst forth, and come on like a flood, or like a
cyclone, or like a devouring fire, then down will go
our boasted civilisation, the hard-won liberty and
peace and security of Christian ages, and degrada-
tion and ruin will reign supreme, and man will have
once more marred God's fair world, and wrecked
His good purposes.
But we must come nearer home to learn the full
bitterness of this law of destruction. Think of the
great men that have lived, men of thought and
genius, such as come but once in a century, two or
three times in the history of a nation, and see the
end of these men, painters, poets, musicians, archi-
tects, philosophers, inventors ; there is but one end
to all ; the wise and the great die as the fool dieth.
Nay, how often does the master-mind pass away in
life's fulness, while the clown or the useless trifler
cumbers the ground for well-nigh a century. Think
of Bishop Lightfoot, with all his store of learning,
painfully acquired by a singularly gifted mind through
many years of hard study, with all his marvellous
administrative powers, never suspected till he became
a bishop, with all the solid work that he did in ten
short years ; what if he had lived on ten or twenty
years more ? But no ; Death, the destroyer, lays his
hand upon him at sixty-one, and the Church is left
lamenting. Read the history of the Church, and
weep as you read how her work has been hindered
and marred by this enemy. Destruction. Disunion,
bad men in power, low principles, human passion,
deadly opposition of dogma against dogma, and
theory against theory ; and the result, mere destruc-
tion. ''An enemy hath done this." Godly men
still recite the Psalms, and they find deeper meaning
in their verses than ever their authors imagined,
and they sigh for deHverance from the enemy, and
pray that '' destruction may come to a perpetual
end."
But we must come closer yet. That which goes
on in the world and in the Church has its counter-
part in the godly man's heart. There is an enemy
there too. There is this terrible power of destruction,
working, wasting, growing. If it were not so, would
there not be spiritual growth and manhood, instead
of the puling infancy of so many of us ? Would
there not be the likeness of CHRIST full-grown,
seen and read of all men ? Where is baptismal
grace ? Where the sevenfold Confirmation gift of
the Holy Spirit? Where the strengthening of
the Communion of the Body and Blood of CHRIST ?
Where the results of prayer and resolution, of in-
struction and warning and example ? Alas ! there
has been the enemy's work again; tares sown, the
good seed snatched away, trodden down, choked —
Destruction !
What then ? Shall we despair, and give it all
up ? Nay, that we will not. If we think so weakly,
cowardly, stupidly, wickedly, the Word of GOD shall
condemn us in the last day ; for thus it is put into
our mouths to say, ''O thou enemy, destructions
are come to a perpetual end ; " and the man of faith
says the words, and by them is strengthened and
braced up to action and to hope.
Nature teaches it as in a parable. The old-world
age of destruction has come to an end. The history
of mankind teaches it. We have put away childish
things, especially its destructiveness ; we are learn-
ing to be men. Changes come slowly; growth is
gradual, not to say tedious ; but there are promises,
5^ ®Irirb ^uttba^ after (Spiplran^.
there are bright visions of a new heaven and a new
earth, of purer bodies, of liberated spirits. There
is the mystical foreshadowing of the end of the
powers of destruction, Satan, Death, and Hell, hurled
away out of GOD's creation, when they have done
their Master's work. For in GOD'S world destruction
is ever followed by renewal, higher, better, nobler
creations. Now for a while we are in the midst of
the conflict. The battle rages, the wounded are
many, the dead lie on every side ; but we look up,
and look on; we believe and rest in GoD. He is
almighty. In His own time. He will put all enemies
under His feet, and under our feet, if we are with
Him, and He with us.
jFourtJj Suntiag after (Kpipfjang*
EVEN AS A BEAST.
The Seventy-third Psalm is one of several in which
the great unsolved problem of the providence of GOD
is dwelt upon. Job, Ecclesiastes, and other writers
touch upon the same perplexing question, and utter
wails and complaints, because they cannot under-
stand why the course of the world goes on as it does.
The righteous suffer; the wicked are unpunished;
God seems far off, indifferent, even unjust and un-
loving, till the heart of the faithful is grieved, and
the temptation comes that GOD'S service is hard and
thankless, and that it would be well to give it up,
and go the way of the world.
In order to understand fully the intensity of this
trial in the Psalmist's days, we must remember that
men lived then almost entirely under a system of
present reward and punishment. Moses, who had
been thoroughly initiated into the Egyptian religious
system, which brought the future life incessantly
into the present, when he laid down the principles
of religion for his people, in order perhaps to sever
them the more completely from the errors and super-
stitions in the midst of which they had so long lived,
left out almost all reference to the unseen world and
future retribution. He inculcated present obedience,
and promised temporal prosperity, as a present re-
ward, and warned the disobedient and rebellious
that God would send speedy punishment, which
would surely find them, and make them suffer.
59
6o JPnitrtlr ^utttrag after (Epxplratt^.
This was really, however, a retrogression in
spiritual knowledge; for Abraham and other primeval
worthies had a clear faith in the unseen, and looked
onward very much as we Christians are taught to
do. Indeed both our LORD and St. Paul intimate
that the Mosaic system was merely an interim dis-
pensation, suited to the capacity of an ignorant and
degraded people, till they should be educated slowly
for better things, and for the Teacher who should
give again the Truth long hidden, and display the
light that had been obscured and veiled by ordinances
and rites that were blindly performed, without a
comprehension of their significance and meaning.
Prophets and a few other enlightened men under-
stood these things, and were in advance of their
time in the knowledge of God's will ; but it was hard
indeed for ordinary men to be contented and trustful,
while God's ways were so incomprehensible, and His
providence seemed to contradict His promises.
So the Psalmist cries, *^ I was even as it were a
beast before Thee ;" i.e., '' I could not understand Thy
doings with the world or with myself any more than
the poor dumb animal understands man's treatment
of him. The young bullock for the first time yoked
to the plough, the horse bitted and mounted, the
dog that has to learn his master's wishes and to
obey them, — I was like these; I could not speak to
Thee; Thy words and ways were unintelligible to
my poor senses. My instinct taught me to struggle
for liberty, and my struggles were useless, and only
brought me hurt and pain."
Or we may take the comparison to refer to the
narrow range of the beast's ideas. We may not,
perhaps, go so far as Gazzali, who said that an
animal is only a form through which a stream of
matter is incessantly flowing, and that it resembles
a cataract or a flame. But this at least seems
certain, that the animal lives only in the present
IFourtIr ^utttra^ after (Kpiplratt^. 6i
moment ; its eyes are ever down upon the ground ;
its thought is but to get food and rest; it has no
hopes, no desire of progress, no noble discontent ;
so that, as St. Augustine says, the sturdy bullock
rejoices in its rich pasture, and in being allowed
to feed and wanton as it pleases, not knowing that
all this is but to prepare it for the sacrifice, or for
the butcher. Like this is the man who lives a
merely animal life, his mental powers uncultivated,
his spiritual nature undeveloped, with no thought
of God, no knowledge of himself or his destiny, and
no desire for any.
And now is all this obsolete, past, gone, and done
with ? Is there now no trial of faith and patience,
as we look out upon the world, as we go through
life ourselves, and find out what it really is ? Is
there no danger that we should cry out against
God's providence, or be tempted to say, ''There is
no God ; " or go plodding on, head down, beast-like,
not understanding, and not wanting to understand ?
Has it not been said —
" Suppose a real angel came from heaven
To live with men and women, he'd go mad,
If no considerate hand should tie a blind
Across his piercing eyes " ?
And again, of what may be seen any day in the
back-slums of any great town —
" Faces ! O my God,
We call those faces, men's and women's, ay, ']
And children's ; babies hanging like a rag
Forgotten on their mother's neck ; poor mouths
Wiped clean of mother's milk by mother's blow,
Before they're taught her cursing. Faces ! ah,
We'll call them vices, festering to despairs,
Or sorrows, petrifying to vices : not
A finger-touch of God left whole on them,
All ruined, lost ; the countenance worn out
As the garment ; the "will dissolute as the act ;
The passions loose and dragging in the dirt,
63 ymtxth ^utttrag after (^pxpljan^.
To trip a foot up at the first free step !
Those, faces ! 'twas as if you had stirred up hell,
To heave its lowest dreg-fiends uppermost
In fiery swirls of slime."
Our boasted nineteenth century civilisation, our
progress, our inventions, our machinery, it all seems
tending to a deadlock; and then to a crisis, to a
reign of terror and destruction and misery, such as
the world has never seen. And men cry out against
God on account of this, so foolish and ignorant,
blaming Him for what is man's fault, not GoD's : —
" Our Father ! If He heard us, He would surely
(For they call Him good and mild)
Answer, smiling down the steep world very purely,
' Come and rest with Me, my child.'
But ' No,' say the children, weeping faster,
' He is speechless as a stone.
Do not mock us ; grief has made us unbelieving.
We look up for God, but tears have made us blind.' "
If we turn to the other extreme pole of nineteenth
century life, the cultured, luxurious, artificial life of
the rich, what is it, after all, but a kind of higher
beast-life ? Selfishness, self-indulgence, pride, re-
fined and subtle cruelty and injury of others, a
living in the present only, getting the best possible
for self, and utter indifference to the well-being of
others or of their sufifering and endurances. These
higher human animals are clothed in purple and
fine linen, and fare sumptuously every day, but
there is but the beast's heart within, as GOD and
His angels see and judge.
And when the nineteenth century prophet hfts
up his voice against all this, in pulpit, by the press,
by personal appeal ; and when good men and women
labour and endure, and spend and wear themselves
out, and feel that they can do so little, and that
they ask in vain for help and sympathy, and even
for a character for disinterested purity of motive,
ynnrtlr -^uitira^ after (^piplratt^, 63
then there is the danger that the Psalmist speaks of,
that the heart should be soured against men, and
in rebellion against GOD.
But there is another sense in which we may take
these words. There is another and a better and a
worthier attitude towards GoD in the presence of
all this miserable state of the world and man's evil
pravity. And it is still a state and condition of
mind that may be described by this same symbolism,
^^ I was even as it were a beast before Thee." The
animals sometimes, indeed, resist man's dominion
over them, but how much more commonly do they
submit silently, patiently ! Every day thousands
die to supply man with food from their bodies. The
sheep is stripped of its fleece, and yet is dumb
before its shearer. The nest is robbed ; the young
are taken from their dams ; the burden is piled upon
the back ; the collar is adjusted that the toiling
beast may give all his strength to Hfe-long work.
Who has not wondered at the patient labouring
horse or ox ? Who has not pitied and resented
the ill-used animal, the hunted hare or deer, the
poor panting thing that the gun has brought down,
and that turns a sad, surprised look at its slayer
with its beautiful eyes, before they glaze over in
death ?
Now we have got upon sacred ground. What
does the ancient prophet say about the sheep dumb
before her shearers, the lamb going to the slaughter,
the hunted hart, with lolling tongue, rushing to
the water-brooks, the stripes endured, the heavy
burden carried, the death-blow voluntarily sub-
mitted to ? "I was even as a beast before Thee ; "
yea, even '^a worm and no man." It is of CHRIST, the
Son of Man, that all this was said. It was true of
Him ; and He gave us an example that we should
follow His steps. It was GOD's ordinance that
submitted the aniipal creation to man's dominion.
64 Wwxtth ^utttraf after (Kpiplyatt^.
It was God's permission that gave, not the herb
only, but the beast of the field to be man's food.
Our Lord rode upon the ass's colt. His will
brought the fishes into His disciples' net. Not a
sparrow falls to the ground without our Father.
Are not we too hke the beasts before Him ? Does
He not expect us to submit to His will, as they
submit ? Doth He not say it for our sake, that He
cares for oxen ? Shall we not fulfil our destiny best,
and gain the good things our Father has prepared for
us most easily and surely, by yielding ourselves
absolutely to His hand and will, as our LORD did in
His human Hfe, which is our exemplar and pattern.
The beasts are dumb, yet they may be our
teachers. Look at your poor dog's honest appeal-
ing eyes, when you punish him he scarce knows
why. See how he trusts you, loves you, follows
you, finds his joy in your presence and affection !
It is said that man is the dog's god. If the merci-
ful man is merciful to his beast, are we not of more
value to God ? May we not, in our ignorance of
God's will and ways, under the heavy hand of
affliction, when the dispensations of Providence are
too hard for us to understand, look up silently to
God, " as it were a beast " before Him, '^ with no
language but a cry," appealing to His pity. His
goodness. His power, by our helplessness, the deep
of our nothingness calling to the deep of His un-
approachable greatness ?
A very eminent servant of GOD, upon whose
spiritual utterances thousands have leaned, and found
strength and help, once said that there have been
times when, through utter exhaustion of mind and
body, he could but say the Lord's prayer, or some
simplest words. Just as Hezekiah in his extremity
went up to the Temple, and silently kneeling, spread
Rabshakeh's letter before the Lord, so it has per-
haps happened to some of us. We have been
yrturtlj .^untrag after CiJipiran^. 65
crushed to the very ground by some unlooked-for
calamity, or some mental conflict, or some heart-
breaking bereavement, and we could not even frame
words of prayer, but could but just kneel before GOD,
and silently sob, and let Him see for Himself our
dreadful wound, that He, in His pity, might heal us,
if He saw fit ; or if not, hold us up with His Hand,
that we might not sink down into the depths of
despair and utter ruin. Or have we not, Hke the
Psalmist, gone in our dark misery to the sanctuary
of God, and there found fight, or at least power to
bear what had been laid upon us ? As the poor
beasts, terrified by a tempest, seek shelter under
some protecting rock, so righteous men of old tell us
that they find their refuge in GOD, the Rock of their
salvation. So Christian writers speak of the Heart
and wounded Side of their LORD as their hiding-
place : —
" Rock of Ag-es, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee.
O pleasant spot ! O place of rest !
O royal rift ! O worthy wound !
Come harbour me, a weary guest,
That in the world no ease have found."
And when that last supreme hour comes to us, as
we have so often seen it come to other poor mortals,
and we lie speechless, motionless, our very mind
and powers of thought held down and hampered by
our body's exhaustion and coming dissolution, then
may His mercy be with us, His Hand sustain us,
His Spirit comfort us ; for then indeed we shall be
but " as a beast before Him," and all the pride and
glory of manhood will be gone, and there will be
but the mute appeal of the creature to its Creator,
" Thou who hast made me, have mxercy upon me."
JFtftlj SunUas after ((fpipljang.
THE MOST PRECIOUS THINGS.
When we say that one thing is better than another,
we do not necessarily mean that the one is bad and
the other is good. "Better" is the comparative of
" good." So when the wise son of David says, " How
much better is it to get wisdom than gold, and to
get understanding rather to be chosen than silver/' he
does not say that it is a good thing to get wisdom and
understanding, and a bad thing to get gold and silver,
but rather, that it is a good thing to get gold and silver,
but a better thing to get wisdom and understand-
ing. In another place he says that wisdom is more
precious than rubies. He does not mean to say
that rubies are not precious, but he says that, valu-
able as they are in this world, there is something
still more valuable, and that is wisdom. We can
better judge of the value of the one, by knowing the
real value of the other. Now, in this world, as it is,
is it not good to get gold and silver ? We cannot
get on without money. It is not merely a question
of happiness, but a question of life and death. We
cannot live without food and clothing and a house
of some kind ; and as the world is constituted, and
human life goes on, we cannot get these things with-
out money. GOD intends us to live. Human Hfe is
a good thing in His sight, and therefore gold and
silver, which are necessary for its existence and
continuance, are good things also. Besides, money
itself impHes progress and civilisation. Savages
66
JFiftlr ^untraf after Cptplran^. 67
have no money ; they barter one thing for another,
and never can advance much till they understand
the use of money.
Then the getting of money usually implies industry
and talent. Of course, money may be got by bad
means, or spent for bad purposes, but we are speak-
ing now of the use, not the abuse, of that which is
in itself good ; of those who possess money, but
do not allow money to possess them. The idle will
not exert themselves to earn money; the sensual
and vicious spend it, and waste it ; the stupid can-
not do anything that will produce money; so, as a
general principle, the getting of money implies that
he who gets it is not idle, or sensual, or stupid, but
that he is clever, hard-working, and useful to others,
who are willing to pay him for what he can do for
them.
Do we not sometimes forget that JesuS Christ
worked for His living ? He was paid for His labour.
There were in Nazareth and the country round,
ploughs and harrows, doors and windows, and all
sorts of joiner's work, that had been made by His
hand, and for making which His hand had been
held out to receive the price, the well-earned wages
of honest labour.
The Bible does not say that money is bad, but
that the love of it is the root of all evil ; and they
often love it most who have least of it. Riches
are not bad in themselves, but only when they are
abused, just as any other precious thing may be
abused. Abraham, and David, and Solomon were
very rich, and their riches were given them by GOD
as a sign of His favour. Riches are dangerous,
just as any other precious thing is dangerous —
rank, power, cleverness, beauty, strength. Every-
thing that is best in man, and in this world, is
dangerous, and will do harm if not rightly used ;
but they are none of them bad in themselves, and
6S yiftl^ ^utttra^ after (Bpipljattf.
may do great good, and are intended by GOD to
do good.
Think of all the most precious and beautiful
things the world has ever seen ; they have all cost
money. Take one instance. Think of the wonderful
churches all over Europe. What an immense sum
of money they have cost ! The grand cathedrals of
England, France, Germany ; the exquisitely beautiful
churches of Italy, with their marbles and mosaics,
that make every other style of ornamentation seem
poor by comparison. Or to come to works of mere
utility. Reckon up what the railroads of the world
have cost. How could our manufactories go on
without money ? The water we drink, the food we
eat, the towns we live in — all these demand money,
and plenty of it, before they can be ours.
There can be no question, then, that gold and silver
are good and precious things. We may imagine
some condition and some sort of ethereal beings to
whom they would be useless, but we are concerned
just now with this world, as it is, and with human
beings like ourselves, and we see quite clearly that
money is one of the most important and indispensable
things in human life. We see, too, that if there is
anything more important and more valuable than
mone}^ it must be a very precious thing indeed.
Now, the wise man says that wisdom and under-
standing are such things. Let us try and see what
he means.
We have spoken of beautiful things, and of useful
things, and we said that they cost a vast amount of
mxoney ; but did the money produce them ? Money
did not invent the Printing-Press, or the Steam-
Engine. Money did not inspire the painter of the
Madonna di San Sisto, or the architect of Cologne
Cathedral. Nor is this all. There are other glorious
things besides these. Money did not discover Vac-
cination, or the art of destroying pain during dreadful
yiftlj .^uttbaf after ^ft^httnjr, 69
operations. Money did not read the heavens and
the earth Hke a book, or analyse the matter of the
universe, from the vast and distant sun to the dust
that floats in the air. Money has not made our
great statesmen, or generals, or poets, the men
whom the world will remember and honour as long
as it lasts. Many of the world's greatest benefactors
have not been rich, but the wisdom and the under-
standing which they possessed have brought man-
kind good things that no money can buy, for they
are above all price. You cannot buy a Newton,
a Shakespeare, a Stephenson, an Arkwright. These
men came into the world, we know not whence, we
know not how. Their wisdom and understanding
are God's gifts ; they cannot be manufactured ; they
cannot be purchased. No one can even reckon up the
money value of that which men of genius have been
the means of giving to the world. Money has been
the useful drudge to carry out the splendid designs
of great minds ; but by this very fact we see which
is the greater and nobler. We see how much wisdom
and understanding are better than gold and silver.
But is this all that Solomon meant ? He was
great and wise. He asked GoD to give him wisdom,
and God showered upon him all His best gifts, and
lavished upon him at once the varied endowments
that ordinarily are doled out singly to a multitude
of individuals, centuries apart. But what did this
divine wisdom of his esteem most ? What did he
ask for, when the Almighty's Hand was opened to
give him whatever he desired most ? What did he,
in his wisdom, select from all the treasury of GOD,
as most worthy of man's possession ? What did
the experience of his life teach him as to the com-
parative value of God's gifts to man ? He asked of
God wisdom. The wisdom that GOD had already
given him made him desire more wisdom; for the
truest wisdom is to know our own ignorance.
70 ytftlr ^utttrag after (Bpi|jlTatt^.
And what is true wisdom ? Let Job's magnificent
words tell us : " Where shall wisdom be found, and
where is the place of understanding ? Man knoweth
not the price thereof, neither is it found in the land
of the living. The depth saith, It is not in me;
and the sea saith. It is not with me. It cannot be
gotten for gold, neither shall silver be weighed for
the price thereof. It cannot be valued with the
gold of Ophir, with the precious onyx, or the sapphire.
The gold and the crystal cannot equal it, and the
exchange of it shall not be for jewels of fine gold.
No mention shall be made of coral, or of pearls, for
the price of wisdom is above rubies. The topaz of
Ethiopia shall not equal it, neither shall it be valued
with pure gold. Whence then cometh wisdom, and
where is the place of understanding ? GOD under-
standeth the way thereof, and He knoweth the place
thereof And unto man He saith. Behold the fear
of the Lord, that is wisdom, and to depart from evil,
is understanding."
It is a noble thing for man by wisdom to discover
the laws of nature, the secret mysteries of creation.
It is his truest honour to rule the world, to become
more and more its master, to rifle its treasures, and
use them for his own advantage; to discover its
forces, and to turn them hither and thither, at his
will, to work for him, and make him still more
powerful ; to analyse his own wonderful nature, in
its threefold organisation, and to develop, to improve,
his faculties, ever advancing, ever improving. But
the highest employment of wisdom is to trace all
good things up to their Source, to be content with
no second causes, but to push upward to the great
Prime Cause of all things, to be athirst for GOD,
and to be unable to slake the thirst in any other,
any lower fountain. Solomon, the wisest of men ;
Solomon, prince of peace, son of David, taught
this. He preached the nobility of wisdom, and
yiftlr .^unira^ after (Epipl^an^. 71
showed men how to get it. But a greater than
Solomon has appeared, the Prince of Peace, the
King of Righteousness, the Son of David, JesUS the
Christ. He, we are told, is the Wisdom of GOD.
He is the source of all wisdom ; by Him all things
were made. He has revealed the true wisdom, that
had been hid and lost, for He has taught us what
God is, and how we may know Him ; and possess-
ing Him, possess all things.
And He, by His Hfe and His words, gave to the
world a new and higher rule than the world had
ever before known or imagined. He said, " Money
is good, but it is better to give than to receive
it. Riches are good, but holy poverty is better.
Happiness is good, but self-sacrifice is higher and
nobler."
This wisdom was foolishness to human nature.
He, who was its author and source, was rejected by
the world. He was valued, and sold for thirty pieces
of silver; but to those who believed on Him, He was
precious. His disciples accepted His teaching, re-
joiced in it, lived by its precepts, died to attest its
truth. This wisdom gave new life to the world,
that had wearied itself with lies. It constructed
the wondrous temple of GOD, the Catholic Church,
and built up a new and better civiHsation upon the
foundation of its precepts.
Nor was this all. The work of CHRIST was not
in the world only, but in the individual heart of man.
There, by His Spirit, wisdom builds her house;
there that which is hid from the worldly-wise is
revealed to His children, who become wise unto
salvation. This is the true, the highest wisdom, to
know God, and Jesus CHRIST, whom He hath sent.
Riches can do much in this world, but we must leave
them all behind, when we die. This wisdom is our
support in death, and will live and grow, when we
pass out of this world into the life beyond. Inven-
72 ^itth ^nnhmi aittv (Bft^h^nrr,
tions of noble and beautiful things make men great
in this world, but presently the earth and all that is
therein will be burnt up, but the fire that tries every
man's work will not hurt this true wisdom, and it
will be still highly esteemed in that new heavens
and new earth that will endure for ever.
In St. John's visions of the unseen world, we read
of gold and precious gems. We know that he does
not speak of the treasures of this world, but of things
more valuable, more enduring than they. The true
disciples of jESUS CHRIST are laying up treasures
there now, day by day, where no thief can enter.
They may be poor here, but they will be rich by-
and-by» Nay, they are rich now, " having nothing,
yet possessing all things," for CHRIST is theirs,
Whose are all things. Yes, godliness is great gain,
for we brought nothing into the world, but we may
turn all to gold in the better land whither we go,
and " the gold of that land is good."
It has been well said, that a man's riches consist,
not so much in the greatness of his possessions, as
in the fewness of his wants. The enlightened man
has but one want, Jesus Christ. Other things are
good, but this is better than all. Lovers and friends
are dear; husband, wife, parents, children, health,
money, good name, these are precious ; but there is
One dearer than all, for whose sake all must be
given up, if needs be. He gave Himself for us ; we
must give ourselves, all we have, and all we are, to
Him; and he that loses his life for His sake, the
same shall save it. Judas sold his LORD for a handful
of money. Still men lightly esteem Him and sell
their rights in Him for a mess of pottage; but to
those who believe. He is precious. Nothing can
separate them from Him. Nothing would bribe
them to give Him up. In times of old, fire and
torture and wild beasts were tried to force the Chris-
tian to give up his Lord, but they were tried in vairu
yiftlr ^utttrag after (Bpt|jlratt|r. 73
In these days we are not persecuted thus, but there
are round us powers that try hard to lead us away
from our LORD; now force; now seductions; now
the arguments of those who no longer serve Him.
May He give us wisdom to choose Him as highest,
best, the only good ! May we have strength to
stand firm; faith to look up beyond all passing
things; courage to say with that noble servant of
God, St. Paul, ^' Who shall separate us from the
love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or
persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or
sword ? Nay, for I am persuaded that neither
death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor
powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor
height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be
able to separate us from the love of GOD, which is
in Christ Jesus, our Lord."
Sixtl) Suntiag after C^pipfjang.
MAN AND SATAN.
The Church very emphatically draws our attention
to-day to the remarkable statement of the Apostle
in the Epistle, by quoting his pregnant words in the
Collect. Men's opinions and theories, with respect
to the powers of evil, have varied in different times,
and in different conditions of civilisation, but the
Bible and the Church maintain the same attitude,
and hold the same unvarying doctrine with regard
to Satan and his host. In the present day the
tendency is to explain away, or actually to deny,
the existence of evil spirits. Books have been
written to argue against the possibility of a benefi-
cent Creator allowing an evil power to have place in
the midst of His work. The very idea has been
declared contrary to reason, and to have had its
origin in an age of ignorance and superstition.
Ridicule has been called in to assist argument, and
the follies and extravagances of popular legends
have been gravely examined, to throw discredit
upon the whole theory.
There is no doubt that a vast amount of un-
authorised statements has accumulated round the
original behef, and that, in order to arrive at a true
conclusion, these mischievous accretions must be un-
sparingly cleared away. Poets, painters, emotional
religious writers and preachers, mediaeval legends,
and very largely Milton's '' Paradise Lost," all
these have created a popular idea of Satan and his
74
^istlr ^utit^a^ after (Kptpijan^. 75
angels which is strangely at variance with, and
sometimes contradictory to, the teaching of the
Catholic Church.
The direct and dogmatic teaching of Holy Scrip-
ture is by no means full and exhaustive. But the
way in which the New Testament writers speak
incidentally of Satan, his powers and his work, leads
us to the conclusion that they had received from our
Lord a definite and clear revelation, part of which
is probably lost, and the remainder forms the tradi-
tional doctrine of the Church. Thus, in Genesis we
read only that the serpent tempted Eve ; in Revela-
tion, St. John speaks incidentally of the Temptation
being the work of Satan, as if it were an established
fact. There cannot be a shadow of doubt that Holy
Scripture and the Church maintain that Satan is a
definite person, and that there is, besides, a multitude
of spiritual beings whose nature is evil, and whose
actions are hostile and injurious to man. Certain
characteristics are ascribed to these beings, mental
faculties superior to those of man, great knowledge
of, and power over, the forces of nature, vastly long
existence, rebellion against the laws and dominion
of God, the will and the ability to seduce men
from obedience to GOD, innate disposition to hatred,
murder, lying, impurity, cunning, and, above all,
pride.
The unanswered question respecting the origin of
evil does not find its solution in all this. The evil
host is doubtless of inconceivable antiquity, but evil
must have existed before them. They may or may
not have been angels, for we may well imagine that
there are multitudes of varieties of intelligent reason-
able creatures, besides men and angels, as we know
them. But it is but reasonable to suppose that, like
ourselves, they had a period of probation, that they
were free, and that they chose evil instead of good,
probably through pride, and lust for liberty from
7 6 ^liEtlr ^utttran after ^pipljaitf.
subjection to GOD. St. Jude speaks of other beings
who fell in this way, and who, unlike the evil spirits,
are enchained prisoners ; while Satan and those with
him range freely throughout the universe. It has
been surmised that Satan held sway in this earth
long before reasonable man appeared, and that envy
led him to tempt Adam, the new lord of the world,
to obey him, rather than GOD, and so rendered him
and his inheritance into his power, so that Satan
became, by right of conquest. Prince of this world.
He claimed this power and right in the presence of
our Lord during the Temptation, and our LORD did
not contradict him, or deny the fact ; and the whole
creation groaneth and travaileth, waiting for redemp-
tion from its usurping master and lord.
There are, too, mysterious words respecting ^^ war
in heaven ; " as if the hosts of evil tried to vanquish
the obedient sons of GOD there by force, and so get
possession of them and their domain, as they had
conquered man, and seized his inheritance. Holy
Scripture evidently assumes that the whole universe
is peopled with spirits good and bad, and that our
spirits live among them, just as our bodies live in
the midst of healthful air and gases, and of noxious
vapours and disease germs. We have to undergo
and to resist the influence of ''principalities and
powers, the rulers of the darkness of this world, of
spiritual powers of wickedness in heavenly places."
And so they are spoken of in Scripture as bring-
ing trouble upon God's servants, as deceiving the
whole world, as able to rule the elements, and bring
injury and destruction upon men.
If we think of the knowledge and experience that
such intelligences must have, after thousands of
years of existence, we can imagine how vast must
be their power. They must be conversant with the
secrets of nature, and the occult laws of the universe,
just as the holy angels must be, and are so described
Mi£th ^Utttra^ after (Bptpljan^. • 77
in Scripture. They understand human nature per-
fectly, and can doubtless do easily that which would
seem to us miraculous. The early Christian writers,
who were familiar with heathenism, as it was before
Christ came, do not hesitate to assert that evil
spirits procured human worship, under the form and
title of the gods, and that by their means oracles
were given, and wonders of all kinds were performed.
And modern travellers, in the remote regions of the
world, Du Chaillu and others, and modern mission-
aries. Bishop Calloway, for instance, give appalling
accounts of the terror that savage peoples feel of evil
spirits, and how they try to propitiate them by sacri-
fices, just as in old times men ''offered their sons and
their daughters to devils," their most precious posses-
sions, to ward off the anger and injuries of the demon
gods. This seems to be the natural condition of un-
cultured man. He has lost the knowledge of the
great and good GOD, but he believes in powerful and
malignant spirits, and tries to bribe them to spare him.
Intellectual progress leads men to just the opposite
error. Ignorance tends to superstition, culture to
scepticism, to materialism, and Sadducism, denying
all spiritual existences. So it has been said that
Satan's masterpiece of stratagem is to persuade men
to deny his existence, while he leads them to become
like himself, in pride, and in rebellion against GOD.
He must possess vast intellectual power, enormous
knowledge of the laws and the powers of the universe,
and it is evidently possible for men gifted with similar
genius and similar scientific learning to be filled with
pride and self-sufficiency, and to cease to acknov/-
ledge and to worship the great GOD. In an intellec-
tual age the seductions of a high intelligence that is
alien to GoD must be most dangerous, as they are
most natural. The desire for knowledge was the im-
pulse that formed the basis of man's first temptation ;
it will probably be also the temptation of the last age
78 ^isllr ^Utttra^ after ^jxtp^att^.
of mankind. The period before the Flood seems to
have been distinguished by vast knowledge, material
progress, boundless luxury and sensuality, and in-
timate commerce with the spirits of evil. Our LORD
and His apostles speak of the time before the final
judgment as similar in every respect. We can well
understand that there may be mental intoxication as
well as bodily, mental luxury, mental sensuality,
mental and intellectual perversion and ruin, by ex-
cessive indulgence, by a want of proportion and
economy, a neglect of one set of faculties, while
another set is abnormally developed and made
monstrous, overlying and injuring jfunctions which
are necessary to healthy Hfe and well-being. Know-
ledge is good, but Satan's special characteristic is the
perversion of good into evil. He is most dangerous
when he seems to be an angel of light.
We see, then, by reasoning backward, that intellec-
tual greatness might lead spirits of majestic attributes
into a revolt from the dominion of GOD, just as we
see the possibility of the wickedness ascribed to
Satan and his host by the awful wickedness of
which human nature is capable ; and from this we
can easily pass on to conceive such a period as is
spoken of in Scripture, when, the belief in GOD being
generally thrown away, the world shall see such a
reign of evil as has never before been known, and
when lying wonders, and direct dealing with power-
ful spirits, shall produce " signs and wonders which,
if it were possible, should deceive the very elect."
It is easy to scoff at all this, and to propound the
dilemma, either that GOD is not almighty, or that
He is not all-loving, if He permits all this. There
is surely a third alternative, that we are not in a
position to judge the case, not knowing all the
circumstances. We are surrounded with mysteries,
and this is but one of them. We know but a very
little of our own history, and our own nature. We
^L^tlj ^uttbaii after (^piplrait^. 79
know nothing of the enormous universe, except a
few facts, as we suppose they are, which we have
lately discovered in this little, insignificant corner of
the cosmos, and in the small fraction of time of
which we can take observation. We know nothing
of God, but the Httle that He has been pleased to
reveal. It becomes us, then, to be modest. It is
indecent and ridiculous for us to dogmatise. Our
proper attitude is that of a devout agnosticism.
Our wisest conclusion is to accept the position that
our Lord assigns to us, and praises, that of little
children, fearing, obeying, loving our Father in
heaven. St. Paul tells us that life is at present an
enigma, a problem which we cannot solve, a ques-
tion of which we have not the answer. It will be
doubtless plain enough one day when we see it all
round. When the answer to a riddle is given, we
say, "Of course; why could I not see that before?"
Let us try and see, then, what the Apostle means
when he says that " the Son of GOD was manifested,
that He might destroy the works of the devil." We
must at once clear away a misapprehension. There
is here no declaration of a conflict between GOD
and Satan, as between rival deities. The Mani-
chean theory of a benevolent Deity, ever opposed
by an equally powerful, malignant God, finds no
support in the Bible, or the Church, though much
popular religion is really based upon such a base-
less figment; for which, again, Milton has to be
blamed. Satan is but a creature, not a God. The
Bible nowhere represents the Almighty fighting
against Satan, as if he were a power worthy of
His opposition. The '' war in heaven " is between
Michael and his angels, and Satan and his angels.
The war on earth is between man and Satan ; and
Satan will at last be overcome by the perfect Man,
Christ Jesus, just as Satan is daily fought and
overcome by men and women and children.
8o ^txtlr ^utttia^ aft^r ^jjipljaitn.
There are dim foreshadowings of this in old-
world myths, such as that of Osiris. Man always
hoped for a Saviour, a Leader, against evil. A
thoughtful writer says : '^ Our Saviour's life and
work impress me as things done by the way, just
as a man upon some vast enterprise might scatter
a few bounties in a village he passed through.
Christ's work is to destroy the work of the devil,
whose kingdom is invisible. Christianity stands up
like some plant of foreign growth, which carries our
thoughts to scenes far distant, and conditions of
existence altogether dissimilar. What do we know
of the unseen but most real world ? May it not
have dread necessities ? May it not be, in a sense
wide as the universe, necessary that He should
suffer?"
But be this as it may ; there remains the practical
and blessed promise, " Resist the devil, and he will
flee from you " — from you. You cannot be compelled,
unless you will it so. Satan is mighty, but not
almighty; and '^ I can do all things through CHRIST,
that strengtheneth me." Satan can tempt, but he
cannot force us. He may tell us that we '* shall be
as gods," if we obey him. We will be *'as little
children" rather, and say, ''Our Father, deliver us
from the evil one," and so that wicked one shall not
touch us. He gains dominion over souls by seduc-
tion, not by force ; little by little, by leading men and
women to foster the growth of passions like his own.
S3 our Lord saw his work going on in the plotting
of the Jews to slay Him, and said, " Ye are of your
father, the devil; for he was a murderer from the
beginning." He saw it, too, in the soul of Judas, and
said, '' One of you is a devil ; " and in that of Peter,
when He turned upon him and cried, '' Get thee behind
me, Satan." So an apostle warns women not to be
" slanderers and false accusers," as our translation
has it, but as it is literally, '' Do not be devils ; " for
^iitl; ^Ktitrag after (Bpiplratt^. 8i
such prostitution of the powers of speech is specially
devil's work; for he accuses and slanders GOD to
man, and man to GOD.
His title ScafioXofi is derived from BLaPaWetv, '' to
throw an obstacle ; " for he sets himself between
man and GOD, maligning both, each to the other,
now lying, now flattering; as he is represented in
the temptation of Eve, and in the temptation of
our Lord.
But "the Son of GOD was manifested that He
might destroy the works of the devil." In and by
Him men and women, compassed with infirmity,
triumph over this mighty spirit ; " out of weakness
being made strong," "bruising Satan under their
feet ; " with and in their Lord " crushing his head,"
treading on serpents, and suffering no hurt.
The trials and sufferings, that Satan and the other
spirits of evil are permitted to bring upon the faith-
ful, do but redound to the glory of GOD, and the
perfecting of His saints, just as fire purifies silver.
And so Satan has been compared to a leech, that has
no thought but to satisfy its lust for blood, while it
is unconsciously draining away poison, and restoring
a sick man to health.
Probably God's rule will be restored little by little;
not by His almighty fiat, but by man's acts; just
as it was lost in the world by man's act ; the work
of the new Adam undoing the work of the old Adam.
Then cometh the end, the Judgment, "the Crisis,"
as it is hterally, the final separation of good from
evil. Then the victory of CHRIST will be seen, in
the triumph of His servants over their enemy ; and
so St. John tells us how he saw the hosts of the
saved, and that they had overcome Satan, " because
of the blood of the Lamb, and because of the word of
their testimony." Then at last the evil ones are cast
into the abyss ; judged by the Man CHRIST Jesus,
and His saints, men also, sitting with Him on His
F
^i^tlr ^uttiia^ after CSptpljan^.
throne. So will man have regained the lost kingdom,
and *^when all things shall be subdued unto Him,
then shall the Son also Himself be subject unto Him
that put all things under Him, that GoD may be all
in all." Then are revealed the new heavens and
the new earth, with the holy city prepared as a bride,
adorned for her husband, and a great voice is heard
saying, " Behold the tabernacle of GOD is with men,
and He will dwell with them, and they shall be His
people; and GoD Himself shall be with them, and
be their GoD; and GOD shall wipe away all tears
from their eyes, and there shall be no more death,
neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be
any more pain; for the former things are passed
away."
LIFE AND THOUGHT.
The man who thinks is ever and again surprised to
find how many men there are who do not think. He
is naturally disposed to assume that other men are
like himself, but he is constantly having his theory
upset by some startling fact, which shows him that
many men are either deficient in the reasoning
faculty, or that they make little or no use of it. He
sees mistakes made and errors accepted for truth.
He sees men pass through life without taking the
slightest interest in problems and questions which
he cannot help thinking about every day.
History repeats itself. Mathematicians can cal-
culate about commercial panics, murders, suicides,
accidents, diseases, because men live such routine
lives that you may reckon upon their actions like the
movements of a machine. It is this strange fact
that makes it clear to CHRIST'S minister that he must
not expect any great success in his mission. If he
thinks only of the dignity of his message, of its
importance to mankind at large, and to each reason-
able and immortal being in particular, he feels certain
that his office must command respect and attention,
and he is disposed to resent it with heat and indig-
nation when he finds either that he is w^ithout hearers,
or that they are languid and indifferent. But when
he calls to mind the persistent and invincible folly
of mankind ; when he compares his own experience
with the testimony of every one who has preceded
him, his Divine Master Himself included, then his
83
84 ^Bptua^esima.
surprise ceases ; he accepts his position, and knows
that want of success must only stimulate greater
effort, and more persistent earnestness.
The Church too is prepared for all this. Empirical
enthusiasts are all for trying some new scheme, in-
augurating new sects, inventing panaceas, bringing
out some novel method which is to convert the world
all at once. The Church looks calmly on, having
in her long experience seen all this attempted and
fail many times. She has no faith in novelties and
nostrums ; she has high authority for the conviction
that, if men will not hear the old teachings in the old
way, they will not be persuaded by startling appari-
tions and frantic appeals ; and by the same authority
she leaves men alone, sorrowfully indeed and re-
luctantly, yet firmly and without relenting, knowing
that each reasonable being is at last responsible to
God for his conduct, and for the fate of his soul.
So year by year the Gospel message is proclaimed,
and men hear and accept it, or hear and reject it, or
keep out of the way of hearing it, using their liberty,
and taking the consequences. Year byyear the cycleof
teaching is repeated, the sequence of fast and festival,
of commemoration and preparation, is gone through.
Prayer and worship, sacrament and ordinance, come
in their due course, and men avail themselves of them,
or not. The Church is bound to do this, but she is
not bound to make men devout and holy ; that rests
with men themselves, and they cannot be compelled.
Now, to-day the Church is at a special point in
her teaching and testimony. It is not one of the
great festivals, yet it is an important starting-point.
The great and fundamental truths of the faith are
brought forward by her, one by one, in regular order
and succession, that not one may be omitted, that
each may have its due prominence and its fitting
attention. At this season sin and its consequences
form the theme of the Church's instruction ; sin, in.
^ejrtua0£ajma. 85
its origin and beginning, as revealed in the sacred
record of man's creation and fall ; sin, in its personal
character, as it attaches itself to the individual soul,
and as it must be put away by conscious and indi-
vidual action ; sin, as GOD regards it, and as He
dealt with it in the tremendous act at Calvary. From
Septuagesima till Easter this momentous mystery is
dealt with by the Church, and she urges thinking
and responsible and immortal men to join with her in
her thoughts, her prayers, her meditations. And the
Gospel to-day seems to give the keynote to all this,
when it says to us, " Go ye also into the vineyard."
Lents have passed ; generations of men have heard,
and are gone ; but, like the lord of the vineyard, here
again is the voice of the Church speaking to us, '^ Go
ye into the vineyard." Others have had their day
and their turn ; now they hear no more ; for them
the Church's work is done ; her responsibility is over ;
coming generations are pressing on, their day has
nearly come, the Church is ready for them ; but for the
moment she is occupied with us ; she looks each one of
us in the face and says, ^' Go thou into the vineyard."
What does she mean ? What would she have us
do ? What is the vineyard, and where, and what
must we do there ? The vineyard is human life, our
life, our work. The Master has sent us into the
world for a purpose. The Church reminds us of this,
and bids us see to it. It is a wide and deep and
broad subject, for no two men's lives are just alike.
Life with its manifold phases ; life hurrying away so
fast ; life transforming us, as we use it ; we are called
to-day, and all through this season which begins to-
day, to think gravely about life, about our own life.
We began by saying that men do not think. How
little do men think about life ! Men live, and they
are so busy, or so idle, or so stupid, or so undisci-
pHned, that they do not think. They take life as it
comes, broken up into day and night, business and
86 ^eptuagcstma.
rest, trouble and pleasure, youth and age, but they
do not think about it as a whole, as a grave reality,
as a personal responsibility. Now the Church says
to us, "Will you think about it? Will you turn
aside, and think about yourself, your life, as j^ou
think sometimes about a matter of business, or a ques-
tion of politics, or anything else that really interests
you at a particular time ? " With some it is the first
call, as with those invited to Confirmation. With
others it is the third, the sixth, the ninth, or the
eleventh hour of the short day of their passing life.
And the state of the vineyard is different with each.
With some everything has to be done ; Hfe is before
them, a blank sheet of paper upon which they may
write what they will. To others there seems nothing
to be done, because they do not look into matters.
If they will but begin to see for themselves, they will
find mischief going on ; here pruning needed ; there
weeds running rampant; there vermin and blight;
here the fence needing repair. In the case of
others Solomon's picture of the sluggard's vineyard
is realised, and there is small hope of ever undoing
past neglect. This vineyard yields a fine crop, but
it is of wild grapes only ; that has changed its char-
acter altogether ; some Ahab has rooted up the vines,
and turned the vineyard into a garden of herbs. A
clever, active man, but every faculty perverted ; life
turned to a channel that GoD never intended for it.
The man who works hardest in his vineyard
knows best how much there is always to be done,
and that he cannot afford to neglect it, or waste his
time. It is the man who keeps away from his vine-
yard who is under the delusion that nothing has to
be done ; the man who does not think ; who is a
stranger to himself; who has no aim and purpose in
life, as to self-culture and progress ; who forgets his
responsibility to GOD, and that his present Hberty
will end in the inquiry as to how he has used it.
THE CHERUBIM.
What were the Cherubim, that were set as guardians
of Paradise and the Tree of Life ? The inquiry is
not one of mere idle curiosity. There seems to be
some deep and fundamental truth shadowed forth
in to-day's Lesson, instruction practical and evan-
gehcal, Christ and His mediatorial office, sin and
its pardon, the wonderful relationship between the
eternal GOD and the created universe, with its mani-
fold and unfathomed marvels.
There is no further mention of Cherubim till the
details of the Tabernacle are given. Then we read
of two golden Cherubim overshadowing the Mercy-
seat with outstretched wings and faces turned down-
wards towards the Ark. And when Solomon's
Temple was built, in the Holy of Holies, within the
veil, in the silent and dark sanctuary, entered only
once a year by the High-priest, there brooded two
great mysterious figures, whose wings touched each
side-wall, dimly seen through the clouds of incense,
but to be touched with the sacrificial blood brought
from the altar without. In the second Temple there
seem to have been no Cherubim. The author of the
Epistle to the Hebrews says of those in the first
Temple, *^ Of these we cannot now speak particularly,"
as if the memory of them had partially passed away.
In the Psalms, and in some other places, we read
of the Almighty as ^' sitting between the Cherubim ; "
and in the visions of Ezekieland of St. John there is
87
.^C£a0Esxma.
much said of the Cherubim. For the first time some
description is given of their appearance, and we find
that they are beings of a nature utterly different from
anything that we are acquainted with. They are de-
scribed as partly human, partly animal, and they are
winged like the angels. The lion, the ox, and the
eagle, the perfection of the wild beast, the domestic
animal, and the bird family, lend their characteristics
to make up their attributes. They are full of eyes,
within and without. They are called ^' The Living
Ones," as if gifted with superabundant life, the
highest vital powers of created nature.
As we try and picture to ourselves these living
creatures, so described, we find that they have more
or less found realisation already in other and unex-
pected places. In the colossal monuments of Egypt,
of Assyria, of Persia, that have survived to our own
da}^, there are seen sphinxes, winged bulls, eagle-
headed creatures with human form and with sweep-
ing majestic wings, impressing us, even now in their
mutilated condition, and torn away from their digni-
fied surroundings, with a sense of awe, as personi-
fying strength, and all the perfections of the animal
world, and standing as guardians at the precincts of
the Temples. We cannot but think that there is
here a memory of some primeval revelation, a dis-
tortion of a truth half remembered. Just as there is
a memory of the Creation, and of the Fall of man,
of the Flood, and of other prehistoric events, among
all nations, whose records remain to us in every part
of the world, so there seem to be dim recollections
of the Tree of Life, and of the guarding Cherubim.
The strange animal-worship of Egypt, and of other
ancient countries, most probably arose, partly at least,
from such imagery. The bull, the lion, the eagle,
were placed among the celestial constellations, and
the sun's progress through them marked the seasons.
The wonderful powers of nature, the instincts and
•e^a0csima. 89
attributes of animals, were believed to indicate a
divine indwelling, and to prove an incarnation of
the Deity. We smile and pity, as we contemplate
all this ; but is it not wiser, and more reverent, to
search for the rudimentary truth amidst the super-
incumbent mass of errors, with St. Paul at Athens,
to claim fellowship and community of worship, even
with those who worship ignorantly, and to confirm
our own faith by the involuntary testimony of the
wide world, and of mankind in every age ?
For what seems to be the meaning of that which
is told us of these glorious beings, as far as we can
discern, as through a glass darkly, their nature and
functions ? We commonly speak of angels, men, and
animals, and we conclude that we have thus exhausted
the possibilities of created life. But are we wise and
reasonable in so doing? Look at the marvellous
variety of animal life ; add to this those vast unknown
fauna of geological ages, many of them, as Hugh
Miller said, ^^as unlike anything now existing, as
the monstrous figures upon a Japanese vase are un-
like any creature that now walks the earth." Add,
again, the infinite possibilities of life in planets and
systems that differ from our own, and where shall
we put a bound to the fecundity and variety of nature ?
Where shall we find a bond to tie the hands of GOD,
or a measure to define the limits of the mind of the
infinite Creator ? The Indian Prince who would not
believe that water could become solid as ice, is logical,
compared with nineteenth century Christians, if they
cannot accept the Scriptural testimony of creatures
of God, other and higher than those that we meet
with in our everyday walk. We are not Manicheans,
who declare that all matter is evil. The Incarnation
of the Son of GOD has taught us better. ^' GoD saw
all things that He had made, and behold they were
very good." All created things have a unity. Dead
mineral matter, gases, vegetable life, the animal world.
90 MtiaQtmma.
what are they but parts of the one creation, which
culminates in man ? And with that creation GoD
has inseparably joined Himself, when He became
flesh and was made Man.
And shall we despise the animals, as unworthy of
the care of GOD ? Whence come their marvellous
powers and instincts, but from the infinite mind of
God ? We stand amazed, and full of admiration, at
many of the senses and capabilities of the animals,
which far transcend anything with which we men are
endued. Why may there not be creatures of GOD
that combine some of the human and some of the
animal qualities, and so show forth the glory of their
Maker, and fulfil some special work in the boundless
economy of nature ? Why may there not be a future
use and destiny in the lower orders of creation, not
dreamed of in narrow philosophy ? The whole crea-
tion groans and travails. St. Paul says there will
be deliverance ; some new heavens and new earth,
which our poor present senses cannot conceive. The
animal cannot understand us. There is much that
we cannot understand ; but that does not prove that
other things do not exist, other intelligences, other
modes of life, space of more than three dimensions,
good things to be revealed, that eye cannot see, nor
mind of man yet comprehend.
We imagine, then, these mysterious Beings, for
long ages guarding the entrance to Paradise and the
approach to the Tree of Life. There they hovered, a
proof that these desired, but unattainable, good things
existed. Towards them doubtless the faithful turned
in worship, and from their presence Cain and his
descendants turned away, anxious to forget all that
they implied. Till the Flood came, and swept away
all traces of Paradise, they held watch and ward,
and the memory of them seems to be traced in
the mythological legends of terrible fire-breathing
monsters guarding treasures and sacred places.
^esa^eshna. 9 1
And when once more GOD revealed Himself and
taught the true way of worship, then Moses, accord-
ing to the pattern shown to him in the mount, places
Cherubim at the entrance of the holy place, where
the approach to GOD was permitted ; and finally
Ezekiel and St. John see mysterious visions of these
exalted existences, very near to the awful presence
of the ineffable and incomprehensible Deity. Then
comes the Incarnation of the Son of GOD. He takes
created nature into His Being ; Himself the beginning
of all Creation. By His flesh He becomes one with
the universe, human, animal, material; and so He
stands as Mediator between GOD and man, a bridge
to span over the gulf rent by sin between the crea-
ture and the Creator, a ladder to reach from earth
to heaven. He holds the keys of hell and of death.
He opens and shuts. He dies to give Hfe to a dead
world. As in Adam all died, so in CHRIST are all
made to live. And just before He dies, out of the
darkness. He speaks some memorable words. A
penitent soul, type of all penitents, appeals to Him ;
and to him, and to all of like faith. He says, ^' To-day
thou shalt be with Me in Paradise." Paradise ! Man's
home in the days of his purity ; Paradise, that had
been lost ; Paradise, that GOD'S highest creatures
had guarded, warning off all approach ; Paradise, now
restored ; its gates flung open ; He the Door ; He
the Way ; by His own Blood cleansing the sin of the
world; the great High-Priest passing between the
Cherubim, rending the veil, opening the kingdom
of heaven to all believers. So St. John saw in his
visions the Tree of Life, no longer fenced and for-
bidden, but free to all, in the new heavens and the
new earth, where there shall be no more curse, where
God's servants shall serve Him, and see His Face,
and where the Lord God giveth them light.
©uinquagesitna.
LOVE, OR NOTHING.
The word " Charity/' which is so especially brought
before us in the services to-day, stands for what is
usually translated Love. It is Love that St. Paul
commends so highly. It is Love, he says, that
abideth for ever. It is Love that is so indispensable
to the Christian character, that to be without it is to
be no Christian at all. Let us try and understand
what he means, and we shall perhaps do so best by
going back a long way in the history of mankind.
However they may differ in some respects, Bible
history and scientific theory agree in this, that man
has progressed from a lower to a higher condition.
Man is an animal, as far as his body and its instincts
are concerned ; and thoughtful men, in every Htera-
ture, liken men's lower passions to those of the beasts.
The angry man, rushing upon his victim, is evidently
like the beast of prey, thirsting for blood. The malig-
nant, backbiting slanderer, who creeps unseen, and
whispers the poisonous falsehood that ruins some
one's reputation, is like the venomous, crawling snake.
The peacock, displaying its gaudy plumage, is like
an extravagantly dressed woman. The glutton and
the drunkard are like the over-gorged vulture or the
filthy swine. The idle and frivolous, who waste the
precious years of youth, are compared to the gay
butterfly that flits in the summer sunshine, but is.
killed by the first autumn frost.
In the same way, a better set of men are said to
92
(!Juittriua0£sima. 93
find their counterparts in other animals and their
habits. The industrious, plodding worker, who has
no time for pleasure, no taste for literature or the fine
arts or the sciences, is not unlike the bee, that seems
only to live that it may work, that works on and on,
day by day, all its little span of life, and then dies
and leaves all behind. The statesman, the man who
is always engaged in public affairs, reminds us of the
ant, or the beaver, working for his community, sacri-
ficing himself and his personal feelings, that national
or local projects may be carried into efiect. While
the faithful subordinate, permitting a more powerful
will to use his strength, in return for wages, is hke
the horse or the ox, that patiently toils that man
may grow his crops or travel on his business.
But there is one general likeness between man, as
he is by nature, and the animals ; and that is selfish-
ness. The animal eats, sleeps, and breeds. Each
animal takes care of itself, gets the best for itself;
the weaker fares badly ; the sick and the aged are
disregarded, and left to their fate. Nature has no
pity; the strong have their own way; the fittest
survive, and the rest are got rid of.
Savage man acts very much in the same way ; and
however much men may be advanced and civilised,
this animal selfishness, this rule of '^ Every one for -
himself," this instinct of self-preservation, lies not
far beneath the surface. Each one of us is conscious
of it. Circumstances bring it out. Look at a crowd
panic-stricken, rushing out of a building that has
caught fire. Where is your courtesy ? Where your
gallant consideration for women ? Where your pity
for children, for the weak and aged ? All are gone,
and the mere instinct of self-preservation asserts
itself, and carries all before it, blindly, cruelly.
But it will be said there is love in human nature
even at its lowest. All the world over, and in every
age of mankind, the mother has shown love to her
94 CJuittquaij^sima.
child ; love that is ready to suffer, to sacrifice self
for the sake of the helpless fruit of her womb. Yes,
it has always been so. But, after all, this is not very
much. The most savage beast of prey, the lowest
animal, displays exactly the same instinctive care of
its young, the same fearless disregard of its own
comfort, and even of its life, while it protects its off-
spring. And we may go further than this, and yet
not rise above animal instinct. The ant, the bee, all
animals that are gregarious and live in numbers to-
gether, recognise the individuals of their own com-
munity as friends, while they regard all others as
enemies. Just so savages are true to their own
tribes, but regard all others as natural foes, to be
fought with, and if possible killed and pillaged. And
nations and individuals, that boast their civiHsation,
display similar rules and practice. A man is very
apt to have a different way of treating his own rela-
tions, from that in which he considers himself entitled
to act towards others. The typical Englishman
thinks foreigners very inferior beings, and fair game
for ridicule or overreaching. The seducer has no
scruple in treating another man's wife or daughter as
he would not like his own to be treated. The general,
who is considerate for his own army, and is person-
ally humane and kind-hearted, uses all his skill to
slaughter as many of the enemy as he possibly can,
without the smallest scruple.
Now, man has been gradually educated to cast
aside the mere animal principle of existence, the
mere animal rule of Hfe and practice, and to take a
higher rule ; and when the proper time had come,
the Son of GOD Himself came into the world as a
Man, and taught mankind the highest rule of life,
the rule of love ; nothing absolutely new, but the ex-
pansion and development of the natural rule of love.
All love is elevating, even sexual love, as one of
our oldest poets says —
^jdnqna^zmma. 95
" Such is the power of that sweet passion,
That it all sordid baseness doth expel,
And the refined mind doth newly fashion
Unto a fairer form ; "
or, as a living author has it, that —
" There is no more subtle master under heaven,
Not only to keep down the base in man.
But teach high thought, and amiable words,
And courtliness, and the desire of fame.
And love of truth, and all that makes a man."
The father loves his own child, but jESUS took other
people's children into His arms, and lovingly blessed
them, as if they were His own. A man cares for his
own flesh and blood, his own community, his own
countrymen, but Jesus taught that all men are
brethren, that they have one common Father, and
that brotherly love must be as wide as the world.
Noble men had suffered, and even died, for their
friends, for their fatherland, but Jesus died for His
enemies, and for all the world, and bade His dis-
ciples follow His example ; and in every age since,
men have done it. " Love your friends, hate your
enemies," was the old-world maxim, the motto of
half-civilised human nature. But Jesus said, " 'Who
are My enemies ? ' I know of none ; all mankind
are My friends. Some are ignorant, some are mis-
taken, some take part against Me, but they know not
what they do ; they have been deceived ; they are
My friends for all that. I love them ; I will suffer to
bless them ; I will die to save them." And He did it.
It would not have been of much use if He had
come into the world and had done nothing but preach
the gospel of love. Men were dull of hearing, slow
to understand. But when truth and love were pre-
sented before men's eyes in human form, when the
life of love was lived before them, then they could not
but comprehend ; and the world has comprehended
it, and taken it as the ideal of Christian civihsation,
9 6 (^uinqnaQzsiuna.
and of individual practice. It was this that conquered
the world in the first age of Christianity ; and it is
this alone that can be relied upon to convert men from
sin and animalism still. CHRIST must be seen in men's
lives ; Christ's love visible in the sacrifices which
it makes. This never fails. In missions at home,
and in missions abroad, this is the one secret of
success ; the loving Spirit of CHRIST, seen, felt, ex-
perienced, through the lives and actions, the char-
acters and the endurance, of His true disciples. It
is this that distinguishes Christianity from, and raises
it above, all other reHgious systems. It is the fashion
with some writers to compare the great teachers of
the world with CHRIST, and some cannot see much
difference between Him and Confucius, Buddha,
Mahomet, Socrates, Marcus Aurelius, and others.
The true test is that of love. Other systems have
it not, or they confine its exercise to co-religionists,
or to a narrow circle of the illuminated, leaving the
rest of the world in darkness without compunction.
It is the want of this principle that ought to teach
men the ruinous character of Atheism, and Agnosti-
cism, and Materialism, and Secularism, or whatever
else modern antagonism to Christianity is called.
It is going back to the principles of the brute
creation. It is putting selfishness instead of love as
the rule of life. If man is a mere animal, then there
is no reason why he should not live like an animal.
If there be no right and wrong, no future life; if
happiness is the test of duty; if pleasure is the only
proof of rectitude, then each will do what he likes
best, and no one will have a right to complain if he
is thrust aside, trampled down, or made miserable.
The rule of nature is, that the weakest goes to the
wall, and the fittest, i.e., the strongest, survives.
Atheism destroys love, and so degrades man, and
shuts out all brightness, all joy, all hope, all progress.
The great antidote of sin is love of God, Who is
(^uinqna^tzima, 97
holy, beautiful, true, loving. The soul yearns after
God as its chief good, and therefore fears, avoids,
hates sin, which separates it from GOD. The
sweetest joys of life come from love — love of the
beautiful, the noble, the lovable, sexual love, filial
love, parental love, the love of gratitude, the love of
pity ; all true progress comes from love, admiration
for something outside self, higher than self, the
raising of self to attain it. Love is the most power-
ful of motives. No cable can draw so forcibly or
bind so fast as love can do with only a single thread.
Atheists are obliged to live decently at present, but
if Christian civilisation were done away, no law but
that of selfishness and force would remain, and man-
kind would relapse into savagery.
As plain men and women, then, who cannot follow
subtle reasonings and fine-drawn theories; who have
neither time, patience, nor incHnation for long dis-
cussions and learned investigations, let us put aside
other arguments, and rest our case upon this. Can
that system be true and good, can it even be ex-
pedient, which, if carried out to its logical results,
would make man no better than the brutes ?
But let us leave general principles, and come to
personal conduct. St. Paul confesses for himself,
*' If I have no love, I am nothing." The keynote
of Christian civilisation and progress is love. The
test of true religion in the individual heart is still
the same ; it is love ; it is love of GOD, not fear of
hell; it is love of others, not selfishness. Human
nature is not destroyed, but raised, sanctified, made
like the Divine Nature; for ^'GOD is love." The
good within is developed, till it grows and expands
and overpowers the animal and lower instincts and
rules them, just as civihsed man rules fire and water
and the powers of nature, and uses them as his
servants and instruments to carry out his plans and
do his will The most saintly Christian is the man
G
98 (^uincpxsiQtsima,
who has learned to love most. The faults that an}^
one of us has, come from want of love, or from weak
love. We are below the Christian standard. There
is human nature with its faults and failings unsub-
dued. We are in the lower condition of mankind,
Christians in name and calling, but never having
risen to the Christ-like life, of love to GOD and love
to men. Our life-work is to cultivate love. The
work of the Church is to help us to do this. This
is the meaning and object of the coming Season of
Lent. This is taught us every time we come to
Holy Communion ; it is the feast of love ; we com-
memorate the sacrifice of CHRIST, Who gave Himself
to die for love of mankind, for love of each one of us.
We kneel side by side, young and old, rich and poor,
the Queen and the humblest villager, we eat of one
bread and drink of the same cup, to show that we
are all equal in GOD's sight, all members of the
same family, bound to love and help one another, as
brothers and sisters are bound by the law of nature.
And this brotherly love leads on to love of GOD.
We love our brethren whom we see, and so we
grow in love to GOD Whom we cannot see.
The simplest, surest test of true religion is to see
how far it has conquered the natural animal selfish-
ness and savagery that is in us, making ^Uhe ape
and tiger die," and making love to grow in their place.
If it be asked what love is, and how it shows itself,
St. Paul tells us to-day, and everything that he says
shows a direct contrast to natural selfishness. ''Love
suffereth long, and is kind ; " selfishness is impatient
with others' faults, and unkind. ''Love envieth
not;" selfishness grudges what others have, and
wants everything for itself. "Love vaunteth not
itself;" selfishness loves to talk of self, to boast of
self, to praise self. " Love seeketh not her own ; "
selfishness stands upon its rights, and forgets, or
overrides, the rights of others. " Love thinketh no
(S^uinquaQtzima, 99
evil ; " selfishness teaches people to suspect others,
to be quick to see the faults of others, talk of them,
magnify them, to imagine bad motives, and to impute
them to others with unsparing words that sow mis-
chief broadcast and work untold misery. Oh those
dreadful tongues, that will talk so much to please
themselves, when love would keep them bridled and
silent and harmless ! ^' Love beareth all things,
believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all
things ; " selfishness does none of these.
We all hate selfishness when we see it in others ;
let us learn to hate it in ourselves. Let us get away
a little more this Lent from the selfish world, and
frequent the company of Jesus CHRIST, the loving,
perfect Man, the revelation of GOD. Let us read His
words, think over His example, pray the HoLY SPIRIT
to bring to our remembrance what He was and is.
There is in each one of us some good ; it only needs
to be cultivated, brought, out, developed. Just as
study and schooling will bring out a child's talents
and make them grow and expand, so that it can learn
more and more, and by-and-by love learning ; just
as an apprentice gradually acquires skill by practice,
till his hand, that was so awkward at first, seems to
work by instinct and do the right thing so easily, as
if it never could go wrong, so we may be apt scholars
in the school of CHRIST, so we may grow like Him,
and the old Adam, the mere human nature, will
be subdued and transformed into a higher, nobler,
sweeter life.
It is not at all wonderful that people are such poor
Christians, that natural frailties and faults and in-
firmities go on year after year, and are never over-
come. What do they ever do, what time do they
spend, what trouble do they give themselves, to
conquer these things, to acquire higher qualities ?
They give so many hours for so many years to learn
a language or to play on an instrument; they take
loo (@mitq[ua0csxma.
pains to learn a business, or to acquire some know-
ledge that will get them a living ; they do not grudge
time or money or trouble for this object or for that,
but what does their rehgion cost them ? What pains
have they ever taken to make themselves better
Christians ? How many hours, how much labour and
self-sacrifice, do they bestow in any week or in any
year ? How much have they given in their whole
lives to the important work of learning their rehgion,
overcoming their besetting faults, perfecting them-
selves in the knowledge and the love of GOD ?
Last year most of us spent nearly a third of our
time, some seventeen whole weeks, in bed, sleeping,
unconscious, doing nothing. We spent at least a whole
month in eating and drinking ; at least a fortnight in
dressing and undressing. Did we spend as long a time
in prayer, in worship, in spiritual cultivation, in prepa-
ration for our eternal hfe beyond the grave ? These
are plain questions, and if we will put them to our-
selves this Lent, and turn over a new leaf, and be a
little more in earnest ; if we will take the guidance
of the Church, and dedicate the time we have given
to pleasure, or to mere idleness, to prayer and wor-
ship, and learning more of CHRIST, and more of our-
selves ; if we will take God at His word, and put
ourselves in the way of the stream of His gifts and
blessings, then be sure He will teach us something
this Lent ; He will give us something that we need.
And although we cannot expect, in so short a time,
to be made Saints, like St. Paul, still we shall have
taken one step onward and upward ; we shall have'
done something towards gaining a little of that
divine Love, without v/hich, St. Paul tells us, we
are nothing.
jFirst Suntiag in %tnt
SIN A MADNESS OF THE SOUL.
Among our Lord's miracles there are none more
striking than those which relate how ^' He cast out
devils." Modern sceptical criticism has endeavoured
to prove that the demoniacs were merely madmen,
and that our LORD stooped to the level of the super-
stitions and ignorant opinions of His people and His
day, and treated persons affected with mental dis-
order, as popular belief regarded them, as if they were
possessed of evil spirits. But there is not a little to
be said against this. It was not the Jews only who
beHeved in the exercise of diabolical power over men.
We who live in Christian lands, where the power of
evil is restrained by the presence of the HoLY SPIRIT
of God ; where souls are dedicated to GOD, and made
temples of the HOLY GlIOST from childhood; where
the Cross still gleams upon the forehead of those
who were once for all adopted as the children of
God, of whom St. John says, '' Him that is born of
God the wicked one toucheth not ; " where centuries
of Christian civilisation have left their mark, and
given a tone to everything, we can scarcely imagine
what the world was before CHRIST became Man, and
what liberty there was for evil ones to do their will.
Satan calls himself, and is called, ^'The Prince
of this world ; " and these remarkable words must
have a meaning. A world that rejected GOD, and
obeyed Satan, may well have fallen largely under
his dominion. The cases of demoniacal possession
mentioned in the Gospels almost all occur among
the half-heathen population of Gahlee, not in Judea,
102 yirat .^uttba^ in S^ent.
where GOD was known and worshipped. Probably
much of the worship of heathen countries was, as St.
Paul called it, a '^ worship of devils ; " probably too
much of the mystery and marvel that gathered about
the gods was not altogether imposture ; but there is
reason to believe that supernatural events did actually
occur, and that superhuman influences were really
exerted. Pharaoh's magicians, we are told, were able
to imitate the miracles of Moses; and Christian
writers, who lived before idolatry and heathenism
were forgotten, do not scruple to ascribe mighty and
mysterious powers to the beings with whom inter-
course was held. Thus, when JuHan tried to restore
idolatry, he found the oracle of Apollo near Antioch
had ceased to make repHes. After many prayers
and sacrifices, an answer came, but to the effect that
the church built near, with the bodies of martyrs
preserved in it, rendered him dumb. So the girl
that followed St. Paul jeering at Philippi, and who
was kept by her masters to give supernatural in-
formation by soothsaying, was not treated by the
apostles as an impostor, but as one actually possessed
by a spirit. So with the vagabond exorcists at
Ephesus ; so with magical rites and wonders ; they
were often real, and the work of evil spirits, who by
their superior knowledge of the occult powers of the
universe could effect what was impossible to ordinary
men, and would so secure for themselves worship
and obedience.
The word ^^demon " means one endued with espe-
cial knowledge, and there seems reason to believe
that beings endowed with powerful intellects, hav-
ing a clear insight into the secrets of nature un-
known to us, may in spiritual form swarm around
us, and be capable of influencing us in many ways ;
and that we are in the midst of a conflict between
good and evil, that is far wider than this Httle globe,
and extends over time that we can scarcely imagine.
UNlVEiw
©F
yirat ^mttran itt li^ttt. 103
In our Lord's day there seems to have been a
culmination in the power of evil in the world, and it
was fitting that He should display His authority, by
not merely ruhng the powers of nature, but by open
conflict with and victory over the evil ones who meddle
with men and their destinies. The primitive Church
fully believed in demoniacal influence, and set apart
a special order of men as '^ exorcists," to heal those
who were affected by it ; perhaps showing contempt
for evil spirits, by appointing mere novices in the
Christian ministry to deal with them.
Among heathen nations there is still a deep belief
in the existence of evil spirits, and in their will and
power to inflict injury upon man ; and learned and
observant travellers relate remarkable instances of
events inexplicable by ordinary causes. Nor do some,
whose opinion demands attention, hesitate to say that
even in our own country there may probably be cases
still that are similar to those recorded in the Gospels,
and that if one gifted with the primitive power of
discerning spirits could enter our asylums, they
would discover some unhappy ones whose condition
could only be explained by supposing that they
were under the influence of some power outside
themselves. Just as in the cases described by the
Evangelists, so in these, there is a double conscious-
ness, a sense that some other will is handling the
mental and bodily powers, and uttering words and
causing acts which the human being can look upon
from without, as not really his own. At one moment,
the man bewails his misery ; at another, his lips speak
what he has no power to originate, nor to withhold ;
and his muscles act with furious violence, beyond
their own capacities, and often to the injury of him-
self. The symptoms of Deliritnn TremenSy in its
worst forms, remind us very much of what is related
of the demoniacs of the Gospels. Indeed, sensuality
was always deemed one of the most common causes
104 yirat ^untra^ in ^znt
of possession. Sensuality, in any of its forms, acts
upon the nervous system fatally, and predisposes the
man to spiritual degeneracy. *' Unclean spirits " are
often spoken of as taking possession of human beings,
and it seems likely that their presence had been
courted by indulgence in impurity, which has a speci-
ally debasing effect upon the soul. Baptism, and the
other holy ordinances of the Church, have ever been
esteemed as preservatives against the special attacks
of evil spirits ; but, alas ! through modem careless-
ness and neglect, many persons have never been
baptized or confirmed, or have never received the
Holy Communion, and so in a Christian country
they are in the position of heathens, and are, like
them, exposed to the unrestrained influences oi
malignant demons.
Sadducean scepticism may make light of these
things; Materialism may demand to see what our
faculties have no power to discern ; Rationalism may
argue against the possibility of what is related,
or against the value of the evidence; but the fact
remains that mankind, in all ages and in all countries,
have by long experience firmly held belief in the
existence of spiritual powers, and in their ability to
act upon ourselves. And for Christians there is the
undoubted testimony of Scripture, and the words
and actions of Him Who cannot lie. The Tempta-
tion, which the Church brings before us to-day, was
doubtless a real conflict with the mightiest of the
spirits of evil, and not a mere subjective incident,
and was part of the great work of Him Who was
''manifested that He might destroy the works of
the devil." Our LORD, in His commission to His
Apostles, gave them authority and power to '' cast
out devils." St. Paul says distinctly that we have
to meet, resist, and conquer *' principalities and
powers" of the air, and to wrestle with spiritual
beings that have not flesh and blood.
yirst ^utttra^ in '^znt 105
The Church assumes the truth of these facts, when
at baptism she requires a special renunciation of the
Evil One, and reminds Christians that they must
expect a life-long conflict with Satan ; and since
he is not omnipresent, this implies that there are
many tempters who do his work, and watch around
Christian souls, to lead them from good to evil. It
is vain to attempt to explain all this. It is foolish
to inveigh against it, among many reasons, notably
for this, that our very limited knowledge of the ways
of God's providence, our ignorance of His eternal
plans, our inability to see more than the present
moment and a small portion of the history of this
little world, which is but so insignificant a part of
the creation, makes us quite unfit to form any sort
of judgment of the designs and Will of GOD, of the
mysterious conflict between good and evil, and of the
infinite issues that are being worked out, in the course
of ages of time, that stretch in bewildering vistas
before and after our brief life, and even the whole
history of mankind, and the life of the world itself.
Let us turn, then, to the practical aspect of the
question, as that which really most concerns us.
There are several instances related by the Evan-
gelists of the cure of demoniacs by our LORD ; and
it is in the incidents of these cases that our spiritual
instruction must be found.
The most remarkable of these cases is that of the
possessed at Gadara. We are told of this man, that
he had his dwelling among the tombs, and that he
was exceeding fierce, so that no man might pass by
that way. A modern traveller in Palestine mentions
a similar instance, and that he was attacked by a
maniac, who lurked among the caverns in the rocks
that were used as burial-places.
Those who are under the power of Satan are bent
on mischief and destruction. Wicked men are never
satisfied, unless they are making others like them-*
io6 Jfirst ^utttra^ in ^tnt
selves, destroying the fair works of GOD, and spoil-
ing what is beautiful and precious. Order and pro-
gress are GOD's will ; and man at his best follows
the same rule, but at his worst, influenced by evil
spirits, he wars upon all established organisations
and upon his fellow-men. Satan and his host have
no injuries to avenge, and yet they hurt and destroy
wherever they can. Does it not seem as if their in-
fluence was at work in these days, when men can be
found to spend money, time, and ingenuity for the
purpose of scattering death and injury, and wrecking
property, without any grudge against their victims,
but animated by a dreadful determination to injure
and destroy some one, they care not whom ?
The demons make use of the man's voice to cry,
^' What have we to do with Thee, jESUS, Thou Son
of God ? " There are many unknown powers in our
nature which can be exercised under certain condi-
tions. Men with strong will, can and do paralyse the
will of others, and make them do and say just what
they like. Such things are often done in public ; and
whatever else may be said of them, they show that
what we read in the Gospel is not impossible, and
that powerful spirits may possess and command the
faculties of the unhappy beings whom they haunt.
This evil one using his victim's voice cries out in
terror and helpless rage against CHRIST, Whom he
recognises at once as the Son of GOD. Just as at
the beginning light and darkness were separated, so
were good and evil separated; evil hates good, is
uneasy in its presence, and fears its own doom.
Now let us notice Christ's method of cure. He
disregards the demon's words, and addresses Him-
self to the man, and asks him his name. The man
had lost his own identity by the power of the possess-
ing spirit ; our LORD recalls his mind by His question.
It has been often noticed that, in a diseased condition,
calling a person by name has a rousing effect. For
ytrat ^utttra^ in Ifeitt. 107
instance, in somnambulism, swoon, states of terror,
or unconsciousness. But the demon still will not
allow the man to speak for himself; he replies again,
and mockingly cries that his name is '' Legion ; " as
if he would say, that just as the invincible phalanx
of the Roman Legion carried all before it, so he had
conquered that little world, and made the whole man
his slave. And then with one word our LORD expels
the mighty spirit; He, stronger than the strong.
And presently the man is sitting at the feet of
Jesus, clothed and in his right mind.
In the other instance there are similar circum-
stances. The possessed cries out, "What have I
to do with Thee ? " and declares that it knows Him
to be the Holy One of GOD. And then the power
and malice of the spirit is seen in the fact that, though
it is forced to obey our LORD'S command, it inflicts
one last and parting injury upon its victim, so that
he is believed to be dead.
There is much to learn from all this ; but we must
summarise it in fewest words. We see the power
of evil spirits over us. That power, as we have said,
is much curtailed by sacraments and the sweet in-
fluences of the Cross ; but the evil ones are not far
off, and if invited by man's will, and if there is a field
prepared for them by sinful indulgence, and a door
opened and kept open by free choice of things evil,
then, if there be not actual possession, there will be
diabolical temptation, and the man will become the
slave of those special sins which have ever been
attributed to evil spirits.
We have three enemies, "the World," that is,
evil men, evil example, the influences of human
passions and temptations that belong to this life
and its concerns ; " the Flesh," that is, the natural
bent of our passions and impulses that clamour for
gratification ; and " the Devil," that is, spiritual temp-
tations, especially Pride, Rebellion, Envy, Lying,
io8 JTirst ^uittra^ in '^tnt
Malice, and such like. We say of the actions
that come of these, that they are '' devilish." We
see men and women, who seem to have lost the
human character, and have become something that
reminds us of the wild beast, but which has a still
more terrible aspect, that seems to tell of an origin
more evil than anything in this world. Like the
demoniac, they have come to desperate condition ;
beyond human control, " No man can bind them ; "
beyond human influence and restoration, '' No man
can tame them." There is a sense of utter miseiy
and despair, often, as in the case of Judas, ending
in suicide ; according to the old Latin saying, '' Those
whom the gods destine for destruction, they first lead
on to madness." We read of such persons, as, for
instance, some of the later Romian Emperors ; men
and women whom revolutions and times of terror
have thrown upon the surface, criminals in modern
times, the awful spawn of degraded humanity, in its
last forms and developments of evil.
We may see, in the Gospel record of possession,
that characteristic of evil which begins to work long
before the lowest depth is reached. '^ What have I
to do with Thee ? " — horror, hatred of GOD, fear of
His punishing hand. It has not reached its worst
form in many, but for all that it is there; just as
a disease may be discerned by a clever physician
or surgeon, by subdued and premonitory symptoms,
that are not noticed by ordinary observers. Keep-
ing away from Holy Communion is such a symp-
tom ; dislike of Church services and holy seasons ;
inability to pray; indulgence in those special sins
which we have said are diabolical in their nature ;
evil thoughts cherished and dehghted in, — these tell
a tale of a soul separated and separating itself from
God, willingly prone to evil, likely to fall more and
more under its influence.
And how hard is it for such an evil-ridden soul
ITirat ^unttajr in ^ent. 109
to be turned to GOD ! And yet these mighty acts
of our Lord teach us that, by God's mercy, it may
be so called back and brought to know itself, and to
be made free from its cruel master. The voice of
Christ is heard calling the sinner by name, remind-
ing him of his baptismal calling, appealing to his
Christian manhood, to free himself from degradation,
slavery, and misery. The voice comes sometimes by
Christian ministers, often by conscience, sometimes
by some chance word or thought ; and when the man
is willing, his Deliverer is at hand, and present^ he
sits clothed and in his right mind at his Saviour's feet,
willing to follow Him whithersoever He goes.
We have been thinking of great sins and sinners, but
let none of us put aside these thoughts, as if they did
not concern us. The temptations of evil spirits come to
every one of us. The sins that are specially diabolical,
at least in their less gross and violent forms, are daily
in our way ; and while we yield to them, we are not in
our right mind ; we are transferring our soul's alle-
giance to the enemy of GOD and man, and are bringing
sorrow upon ourselves, and the shadow of death,
having our dwelling among the tombs and with the
dead, wounding ourselves, and likely to injure others.
We are not yet so far gone that we cannot use
our own faculties ; we can still see our fall, still long
for restoration, still come to CHRIST the Restorer, still
pray Him to pity and help us. This, then, let us do ;
this Lent, nay, each day, before we sleep, each Sunday
as we pass from out of the world within the church-
door, each time we kneel humbly at the Lord's Table,
each time we join in the Litany, and say, '^ From all
blindness of heart, from pride, vainglory, and hypoc-
risy, from envy, hatred, and malice, and from the
crafts and assaults of the devil. Good LORD deliver
us ; " so shall we ever keep near to our Lord, and
that wicked one shall not touch us, for if we resist
the devil he will flee from us.
Seconb .Suntiag in %tnt
SIN A LEPROSY OF THE SOUL,
Last Sunday we considered Sin and its pardon, as
exemplified in our LORD'S miraculous healing of those
possessed with devils. Let us to-day look at the
nature of Sin, and the means and method of its
pardon, from another standpoint, as they seem to be
set before us in the miraculous healing of Leprosy.
If we have realised what our LORD was, we shall
be prepared to believe that His revelation of Him-
self, and of the Father by Him, was not confined to
His spoken words. He says Himself that His acts
were an integral portion of His mission. So when
He had healed the ten lepers. He sent them to the
•priests, as He said, ^^for a testimony unto them."
The ancient ritual had been handed down for the
restoration of the leper to the rights of citizenship
and of the Temple, but no one had used them. For
when had a leper been healed ? But now there
come ten men, known and proved to have been
lepers for years, now known and proved to have
been freed from the incurable disease by Jesus.
Similar miracles occurred many times. Therefore,
when John sent his disciples to our LoRD, to ask Him
whether He were the CHRIST, He bade them go and
tell John what they had seen Him do ; and among
these deeds He specially mentioned the cleansing of
lepers. For, as the king of Israel said to Naaman,
it was an accepted belief that GOD alone could cure
a leper. Were not the priests, the scribes, the
lawyers, bound to inquire whether this were not the
Prophet like unto Moses, the promised Healer, prov-
ing His commission by His more than human power ?
But they understood not. Let us be wiser, and
learn something from our LORD'S acts, which were
revelations. His mighty works, which were parables,
full of instruction for all time and for all men.
We can hardly read what is laid down in Leviticus,
respecting Leprosy, without seeing that there was in
the mind of GOD something special and significant
in its nature. It seems to have been selected by
God as a type of Sin. The leper was looked upon
as one specially chosen by Go I) for unusual suffering.
Some learned Jews declared that MESSIAH would be
a leper, because of the peculiar phrase in Isaiah,
where He is said to be '^ stricken, smitten of GOD,
and afQicted." The leper was to be treated as one
already dead. His clothing was that of a dead body;
he went about in perpetual mourning attire, celebrat-
ing, lamenting his own death. Any one who touched
him was rendered unclean, in exactly the same way
as if he had touched a corpse. The leper was ex-
cluded from the company, not only of his relations,
but of all living men. All that belonged to him
passed to his heirs, as if he were dead and buried.
Now, this was evidently not because the disease
was infectious, or more deadly than many others.
Among other nations the leper lived with his family,
and even held offices of importance, and transacted
business, like any one else. So Naaman was the
general of the Syrian army, and had his house and
servants. It was only by the Levitical law that
leprosy was specially fenced about with peculiar
restrictions and disabilities. The disease itself had
many phases. Sometimes it exhibited itself in a
spot or deep-seated sore ; sometimes it covered the
whole body with an affection of the skin so that th^
IT2 ^er0nir ^utttra^ in Sent,
leper was '' as white as snow ; " sometimes the feet
and legs were affected with fearful enlargement called
*' elephantiasis ; " sometimes the flesh and bones
were consumed by a cancerous corruption, so that
parts of the body died, and dropped off. There
were, indeed, appointed rites for the restoration of
the healed leper to his civil and religious rights, but
the disease was universally considered incurable.
Perhaps these rites were ordained by GOD for no
other purpose than to draw attention to the work of
Messiah, when He came, doing deeds that no man
had ever done before.
The disease has its origin in hot and dry climates.
Probably the Israelites were first afflicted v/ith it in
Egypt. The forced labour, under the hot sun, in the
dry and dusty soil, with hard fare and cruel usage,
v/as likely to create an enfeebled condition of body,
and so induce such a malad3^ Indeed, the Egyptians,
in some of their records, after the Exodus, endeavoured
to give that event an entirely different aspect, by
saying that they had driven out the Israelites from
their country, in disgust because they were a people
hopelessly infected with leprosy !
The close intercourse that was established with the
East by the Crusades, caused leprosy to be introduced
into Europe, and in most towns of any importance
there was a lepers' hospital. The mediaeval Church
followed the practice of the Mosaic Law, and treated
leprosy as a disease different from all others. The
leper was clothed in a shroud, like a corpse, and when
he was admitted into the lazar-house, the Mass of the
dead was celebrated over him. The tenderness of the
Church regarded the leper with special pity. Like
the Israelite, it esteemed him as selected by GOD for
a painful life, separated from its joys and brightness,
and therefore deserving more than ordinary love and
compassion, in company with the mentally imbecile,
and other unfortunates. There are some very touch-
^etotttr ^utttra^ tit Sent. 113
ing legends, in which loving service to such unhappy
sufferers was shown to be accepted by our LORD as
if rendered to Himself.
Now, we know that all the rites and ordinances of
the Mosaic Law were symbolical, and that what is
written is for our learning. By the Law is the know-
ledge of sin ; it is the servant to lead us to the Teacher
of truth. The sacrifices point to CHRIST with one
hand, and to man's sins, that need pardon, with the
other. So yet more mysteriously the rites that clus-
tered round the leper symbolised the work of CHRIST,
and were never understood fully till He came, and
by His word or His touch cleansed, and in a moment
restored to health, the doomed and hopelessly dis-
eased leper. Sin clung to man. It lay deep within
his nature, ou,t of the reach of all human skill. The
better sort of men groaned under its presence, long-
ing for release, trying this remedy and that, in vain.
All over the world, and in every age, when men think,
and know themselves, when they yearn after purity
and spiritual progress, they find their way barred by
inward defilement. ^* When I would do good, evil
is present with me. Oh ! wretched man that I am,
who shall deliver me from this body of death ? "
Adam was warned by GOD that if he fell into sin, in
that day he should die. Satan told him that it would
not be so. Adam sinned, and did not literally die.
Satan seemed true, and GoD a liar. But Satan knew
that he was playing with words, and deceiving.
Adam lived on, but his soul was dead ; just as the
leper lived on in the world for years, and yet was
accounted dead by the people of GOD, according
to God's own ordinance. So in the sight of GOD,
and His Church and people, and the holy angels, the
impenitent and unpardoned sinner now is dead while
he liveth. The old lie is still uttered, still believed.
Men and women revel and wallow in sin, and they
say, '* We are none the worse, but a great deal the
H
114 ^£contr ^utttJag xit Itettt.
better, and happier, and richer for it." There is a
vulgar phrase, used by those who lead the pure to
evil ; they bid them come with them and " see life."
This is the tempter's lie. The truth is, they go down
to death. Sin is like leprosy ; its inevitable end is
death. The leper died, as it were, once, when the
disease came upon him ; he died, as it were, a second
time, when he gave up the ghost ; which was from
the first the certain result of his leprosy. So we are
taught by GOD that there are two deaths for the sin-
ful soul ; the first death is here, when sin has taken
its hold ; the second death is when sin and death are
hurled to their doom. The leper still lived in the
world, saw the sun, ate and drank and slept, as other
men ; but God'S Law counted him dead. So there
are men and women living, working, smiling, pros-
pering, like Naaman ; great, favoured, honoured ; only
God esteems them dead. O strange and sad con-
trast ! These lepers, one and all, knew their sickness,
their misery, the inevitable doom of their disease, and
when they saw the Saviour, they believed in His
power and mercy, and called aloud, begging Him to
heal them ; but sinful souls fear not, pray not, care
not to be cleansed, even when cure is offered to them.
All men are sinners; but some are pardoned, and
some are not pardoned, because they do not wish it.
And when the body is stripped off, and we shall
know even as GOD knows, all will see that they arc,
like the blighted Assyrian host, " all dead corpses "
in the morning of light and life and resurrection.
Do we ask, ^' How is this ? " It is so by necessity.
Sin is a disease that is incurable by man. Sin is a
debt that no man can pay. Sin is a disorder in the
cosmos of law. Sin is a flaw in the perfection of
God's works. Sin is rebellion against the will of
Him Who must be supreme. Sin is death in the
kingdom of life. Sin is darkness in the realm of
light. It is a contradiction, an impossibility. It
^er0ntr ^untra^ tit Sent. 115
m m — ' — —
cannot be tolerated by the perfect and all-holy GOD.
It will flee from Him, and He must drive it from His
presence. By unalterable laws, GOD and sin are
incompatible. GOD cannot change; therefore sin
must be infinitely separated from Him. There is a
very close analogy between the body, and the soul ;
that which disease is to the body, sin is to the
soul. ^^GOD is not the GOD of the dead, but of
the living." All this, and more, is taught by the
words and the works of CHRIST.
But we must keep ourselves just now to the ana-
logies of leprosy. Leprosy came on gradually; so
no one is a great sinner all at once. If a man touched
a leper he partook of his defilement, and though he
did not catch the disease, he lost his religious pri-
vileges and needed reconciliation by the appointed
rites. And who does not know the defiling power
of sin and sinners ? The very knowledge of sin is
debasing. Example, even familiarity with evil, is
dangerous to purity and innocence : ^' With the fro-
ward, thou shalt learn frowardness."
There were many varieties in the symptoms of
leprosy. All lepers did not look the same. Yet
there was one law of GOD for all. So sinners vary
in the nature €)f their sins and in their guilt; yet
God counts all sinners, and the penalty of sin is
upon all. All lepers were shut out from Jerusalem ;
and into the heavenly Jerusalem there can enter
nothing that is defiled.
But let us hasten to happier thoughts. The heal-
ing of leprosy by CHRIST tells of the pardon of sin,
by Him Who alone can do both. There are only
two instances of the cleansing of lepers given at
length and in detail, and their circumstances arc
significant, and full of meaning.
The ten lepers were healed mysteriously. They
were bidden, sick unto death as they were, to go and
show themselves to the priests, to receive a certificate
ii6 ^econtr .^untra^ ttt ^tnt
— ■ — — — — a*
of health. They obeyed the seemingly unreasonable
command, and *^as they went they were cleansed."
It was not their going that healed them ; yet if they
had not gone they would not have been made well.
So Naaman washed in Jordan, and his flesh came
again as the flesh of a little child ; but the water of
Jordan had no more healing in it than had the waters
of Abana and Pharpar. What, then, healed these
lepers ? It was obedience ; doing what they were
told ; putting themselves in the way of God's power ;
fulfilling the conditions laid down for fitting them-
selves to receive God's gift ; accepting God's way,
though they could not understand it.
We must do the same. There is no other name
whereby we must be saved but the name of jESUS.
There is salvation by no other. We cannot save
ourselves ; yet He will not save us against our will,
without our co-operation. What we have to do is
very little, but that little must be done. His way
may seem unlikely ; His Sacraments may be argued
against ; His Church may be found fault with ; and
men may set up what they call purer, more reason-
able, more intelligible systems. But it is perilous for
man to take his own way, instead of God's way.
It has never answered; it cannot possibly succeed.
If we want to be cleansed from the leprosy of sin,
we must do exactly what GOD has told us ; nothing
else will do.
Now let us take the other case, and we learn some-
thing more. Our LORD healed this man by His
touch. If Jesus had been only a man. His touch
would not have done the leper any good, and it would
have made Himself unclean. But virtue went out of
Him, and chased away the evil humours, and made
the sufferer well. In like manner, what was the In-
carnation but the Divine touch healing humanity ?
Our Lord joined Himself to our nature, and was
not defiled, but Himself sanctified us. And now, to
^erotttr ^untra^ in Sfetti. 117
*
the end, He is with us in His Church and Sacra-
ments. He touches us by them, and we are healed.
He has now ascended, and may be touched every-
where, by all, spiritually and effectively. Greater
things than He did are done, as He promised. His
power is present to heal in those whom He sends in
His name ; in ordinances, that He has appointed ;
in lifeless means, that He has blessed and made
life-giving.
There is but one point more to notice ; but there
is in it much consolation for us all. The demoniac
was too far gone even to think of cure. The leper
felt his misery, and cried aloud with wondrous faith,
and asked our LORD for healing. The ten stood afar
off, huddled together, Jews and Samaritans, forgetting
their differences in their common misery, and cried
piteously for mercy. The single leper worshipped
and believed, saying, ^'LORD, if Thou wilt. Thou
canst make me clean." Let us do likewise. We know
our sinfulness ; we know our danger ; we know our
Saviour. Down on our knees, then, let us call upon
Him for pardon, and to us He will surely say, " I will ;
be thou clean." Some may seem better, some worse,
but for all alike there is the same Saviour. There
is but one way of salvation. Young and old, rich
and poor, gentle and simple, saint and sinner, the
transgressor of one commandment, typified perhaps
by the single leper, the grievous sinner who has
broken every law of GOD and man, shadowed out
perhaps by the throng of ten ; all alike must come
to Christ, for in Him alone is hope for all and
for each.
Not once, nor twice, but day by day, as long as
we live, we must cry, " Jesus, Master, have mercy
upon us." Specially, at seasons like this, our LORD'S
hand seems to be stretched out to us, and His voice
is heard offering cleansing, not even waiting for our
agonising cry. And when at last we come to die.
ii8 ^econti ^uniraH in y^ttt.
when death is doing its worst, and all is ruin, still
faith will teach us to lift up our voice, inarticulate
indeed, and unheard by human ears, but heard b}'
Him, heard and answered: ''JESU, JESU, mercy."
And then, when all seems wrecked by sin's curse,
then, by His touch, we shall be made whole, and
enter into life.
2Cijirtr Suntfas in ILcnt,
SIN, THE BLINDNESS OF THE SOUL.
Among the miracles of our LORD, the most numerous
are those of giving sight to the blind. This is just
what any one well acquainted with the East would
have considered probable ; for blindness is far more
common in Oriental countries than it is here. The
heat and glare of the sun, the dust, the multitudes of
flies, the practice of sleeping in the open air, and
some other peculiarities of Eastern Hfe make diseases
of the eyes the most common of all bodily ailments.
It is said that in Cairo one person out of every five
of the population is blind, besides those who are
affected with ophthalmia and other complaints which
often end in blindness. It is probable, therefore, that
our Lord constantly met with blind persons, and it
is recorded that He healed many ; and there are four
ca^es the particulars of which have been handed
down to us by the Evangelists. Medical and surgical
knowledge and skill were not great in those old-
world days, and blindness was usually as incurable
as leprosy ; and therefore when our LORD sent back
the Baptist's disciples to their master, He asserted
His claims to be the CHRIST, not only by His power
to cure leprosy, but by His giving sight to the blind.
He was fulfilling the prophet's foretold attributes of
Messiah ; and so, in the synagogue at Nazareth, He
first announced His mission by reading the place
where it was written in Isaiah that He was anointed
119
I20 ^h'tvh ^utttra^ in feitt.
by the Spirit of God, among other purposes, ^'to
give recovery of sight to the blind." And when one
of the men whom He restored was arguing with the
Pharisees, he justly said, that since the world began
no one had heard of the opening of the eyes of one
who had been born blind. The learned and devout
among the Jews, therefore, were bound to inquire
into the pretensions of this Prophet, who cleansed the
lepers and opened the eyes of the blind. But pre-
judice, and preconceived theories, and narrow, petty
sectarian trivialities misled them ; so that, with an
astounding and undoubted miracle before their eyes,
they missed all its importance, and wandered into
misapprehensions, because its Author violated some
of their traditional and utterly unauthorised super-
stitions respecting the Sabbath.
We sometimes crave for miracles; let us learn
from this that miracles will not compel men to
believe; for seeing is not always believing. Our
Lord's works, like His words, had different effects
upon those who saw them ; just as the seed fell on
different kinds of ground, and sometimes bore more
or less fruit, and sometimes perished. Well may our
Lord have turned upon the Pharisees and charged
them with bhndness ; bhndness worse than that
which He had just removed ; bhndness that affected,
not the bodily organs, but spiritual bhndness, harder
to cure than that of one whose eyes had never seen ;
blindness which resisted even His power and His
love.
For, like leprosy, blindness was a type of sin.
The blind were excluded, not only from the priest-
hood, but even from the Temple services. The old
prophets constantly used the simile, and said that
their people were blind, unable to see what was plain
enough to some. Abraham could see the coming
Christ, and the city that had foundations, which
God had built. The spiritually enlightened could
see Christ in the offerings of the Law ; could under-
stand the folly and wickedness of idolatry, and the
certain doom of rebellion and disobedience to the
declared will of GOD ; and could lament that many
of their nation were more stupid than ox and ass,
for these animals knew their master and their stable,
while God's own chosen people could not discern
His Hand, nor walk in His way, nor keep themselves
safe and happy in His appointed home. So St.
Paul, when he could not persuade his countrymen to
accept Christ as the Messiah of the Law and the
Prophets, can only explain their conduct by saying
that blindness had come upon their souls ; and then
he extends his lamentation, and bewails Christian
blindness in words and terms that apply to us, if we
have not the eyes of the soul enlightened.
Let us, then, take once more the circumstances of
the recorded miracles of our LORD, and see to-day
how they preach to us that sin is a blindness of the
soul, and how CHRIST alone can restore our spiritual
sight. As we have already seen, the incidents of
each miracle teach some special lesson, and what
does not apply to one person is exactly appro-
priate to another. So still the HOLY SPIRIT of GOD
speaks by human lips that every soul may hear
something suitable for itself; and, like the mani-
fold audience at Pentecost, each may receive in
language that he can understand the word of light
and life.
In the first miracle, two bhnd men follow jESUS,
apparently asking in vain for His help, but un-
daunted by His silence or refusal. They follow Him
into His own house at Capernaum. Then He asks
them whether they believe in His power to do this
work of God, and when they say they do, He touches
their eyes, saying, ^'According to your faith, be it
unto you," and immediately their sight was restored.
Here, as in the case of the lepers, there is a sens(^
122 fijirir ^ixtttra^ in Sent.
of want, a longing for, and a labouring after, the
desired boon : —
" Scarce half I seem to live ; dead more than half.
O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon,
Irrevocably dark, total eclipse,
Without all hope of day ! "
Have we this sense of blindness ? Do we feel
that we are deficient in spiritual light ; that we are
not perfect men ; that others have faculties that we
have not ? Do we want to be better ? Do we seek
to be made better, to see our faults more clearly, to
discern the beauty of hoHness, the unreality of things
of time and sense, the sinfulness and the misery of
sin ? Do we long for the power, which others
possess, of seeing by faith, of realising the spiritual ?
Or are we satisfied with ourselves and our condition,
and while we are eager enough after the things of this
life, we do not covet earnestly any one. spiritual gift ?
These men persevered, in spite of discouragement
and neglect ; and not getting what they sought, they
boldly followed jESUS into His house, and thus at
last gained their quest. In those days our LORD
had but one house, in one obscure town in a corner
of the world. Now His houses are numberless ; and
in Christian lands they are not far from any man's
door. Our LORD still meets petitioners in His
house ; still hears, and heals ; still gives sight to the
blind, by His word and His touch ; still specially
works on the Sabbath, or rather the Lord's Day, so
much better than the old Sabbath, which has passed
away. If we are in earnest, we shall be frequent
visitors to the house of GoD ; listening, communicat-
ing, believing that He is able to do what we want
Him to do for us.
Next let us notice that miracle recorded by St.
John at such length, by which the man born blind
received sight. This was no blindness from accident
or disease. The man had never seen. There was
Wh'tvti ^untra^i iit fent. 123
organic fault from birth. This man was made to see
by washing in Siloam. We cannot fail to perceive
at once a parable here of the washing away of original
or birth sin by holy Baptism. This man is not said
to have asked Christ's aid ; it was given, before it
was asked for. So our LORD will have little children
brought to Him, before they know their need of a
Saviour, and by Baptism be made partakers of an
unasked blessing.
But there is other teaching also in what our LORD
did. Just as in His cleansing of the lepers He used
unlikely means. He spat on the ground, and made
clay of the spittle, and anointed the eyes of the blind
man with the clay, and said unto him, '' Go wash in
the pool of Siloam, which is, by interpretation. Sent ;
he went his way therefore, and washed, and came
seeing." What was said last Sunday of GOD's
choice of unlikely instruments and methods, in
His providential ordering of Church ordinances and
means of grace, is again taught here. If we feel
our blindness, and desire its cure, v/e shall use our
other senses to help us, just as the blind man could
hear what our LORD said, and holding some one
else's hand, could use his feet to walk to the pool of
Siloam. The man was more humble than Naaman ;
he went straight to the place of which he was told,
and washed, as he was told. So let us be obedient
to God's commands, and go His way ; for there is
none other way given among men whereby we can
be saved. Siloam means ''Sent;" the same as
Shiloh, that is, CHRIST; for He is the Water of
Life. Nor is this all; He said of His apostles,
"As My Father has sent Me, even so send I you."
The word '' apostle " also means '' sent ; " '' He that
heareth you, heareth Me; and lo, I am with you
alway, even unto the end of the world."
There is still the pool of Siloam, then ; still
Shiloh ; still CHRIST ; still the fountain open for sin
124 ^Iririr ^untraf in J^ttt.
and uncleanness ; still those whom CHRIST has sent
in His name to give sight to the blind. Some run
who are not sent ; but the Church knows that she
has received authority from her LORD, and she will
act in His name and by His authority, till He comes
again.
But let us not fail to notice the after-incident in
this miracle. The man was sent for by the Phari-
sees, perhaps by the Sanhedrim themselves. His
cure was thoroughly investigated. It is the only
instance recorded of one of our LORD'S miracles
being judicially and critically examined by competent
and unfavourable authorities. The miracle cannot
be denied, but the subject of it is abused, and cast
out of the Jewish Church. Then our LoRD goes and
seeks him, and tells him, in so many words, plainly
and categorically, that He is the CHRIST. So is it
still. The baptized Christian is CHRIST'S special
care. He manifests Himself to him, leading him on
by Confirmation and frequent Communion to a know-
ledge of Himself. His eyes, which He has opened,
are used to see the face of his Saviour. He believes,
worships, and is taught, and blessed. The world
rejects him, but CHRIST accepts him, and he wants
no other friend.
In the next miracle there are again some special
incidents that are most instructive. St. Mark tells
us that at Bethsaida a blind man was brought by
others to our LORD. There are some who are sin-
ful and impenitent, who will nevertheless not seek
pardon. They must be brought to their Saviour by
the intercession of others.
Then we are told that Jesus led the man out of
the town. Bethsaida was one of the cities upon
which our LORD pronounced a woe, because it
believed not, though many of His mighty works
were done in her. So GOD, in His mercy, sometimes
takes men away from companions, from business,
€hitb ^untra^ itt Jfcttt. 125
from distracting and debasing influences, and then
converts them. The loneliness of sickness, or
trouble, or poverty, or unjust suspicion, or calumny,
may sometimes do this. What a comforting picture
for such an afflicted one, to see himself, as the blind
man led by His Saviour's hand out of the crowd,
into the quiet country-side, where alone with his
Lord he may be healed !
Nor is this all. This man, alone of all the subjects
of Christ's miracles, was restored gradually. At
first he saw imperfectly, men and trees much the
same; then at last everything clearly. There is
much comfort for some of us here. We can see a
little, but nothing is clear. We have perplexities ;
nothing is quite certain to us, either about ourselves,
or our duty, or our creed. We are not quite blind,
but neither are we perfect in our sight; just as
some are colour-blind, some short-sighted, and so
on. We need not despair, then, but hope that He,
Who hath begun the good work, will carry it on, and
perfect it ; and that if we see now darkly, if much
that we see is but a riddle that we cannot understand,
that we shall one day see face to face, and that, like
this restored blind man, the first face we see clearly
will be the Face of our Saviour. For, like Elijah's
servant on Carmel, we may look six times and see
nothing, but the seventh time will reveal all we
long for.
And now let us try and learn something from
the fourth and last miracle, the case of Bartimaeus
at Jericho. Jericho was a cursed city, a city near
which robbers prowled. When Bartimaeus had re-
ceived his sight he left Jericho, and followed jESUS
to Jerusalem. Like this, the sinful soul is a citizen
of the world that is cursed, but when it is pardoned
it becomes the disciple of Jesus, and He leads it on
to Jerusalem, the city of peace.
Then notice that this man was not only blind, but
126 Uk'tvt! ^itntra^ tit Ifeitt.
poor ; poor because blind ; so that he could do
nothing but beg. Alas ! are not many souls like this ?
And some, like the Laodicean Church, do not even
know their degraded state ; they are poor and blind ;
yet, because the poverty and the blindness are spiri-
tual, they are ignorant of their condition, and re-
garding the body and this life only, they call them-
selves rich and happy; and some say, '^ Are we blind
also ? " and yet say it in mockery. Just as Judas
said, " Lord, is it I that will betray Thee ? " and yet
even then could not repent and turn from his sin ;
or as David could not see himself in Nathan's parable ;
for none are so bHnd as those who will not see ; and
those who will not see, presently cannot see; for
the god of this world blinds the eyes of his slaves,
just as the Philistine lords put out the eyes of
Samson. Love blinds ; especially self-love. Hate
blinds; prejudice blinds; ignorance blinds; pride,
party-spirit, custom and fashion, even learning,
especially where it is in one branch of study only, —
all these, and many more, strangely work, till men
cannot see what is plainly before them, and which
others see clearly enough at their side. " Faults in
the life breed errors in the brain." While the pure
in heart see GOD, the fool saith in his heart, *' There
is no God ; " for his heart is foul, and darkness
reigns there.
But let us be like Bartimaeus. He was blind, yet
he heard when Jesus was passing. If he could not
see, he could hear ; if he could not see, he could cry
aloud. So let us cry out of the deep, out of our
darkness, alone, helpless, with none to lead us. Oh !
who is not so sometimes, lonely, friendless, in dark-
ness of soul ? What can we do but cry, ^' Have
mercy on me " ? Well, this miracle bids us cry, and
keep on crying, and promises us an answer of peace.
But we shall not find sympathy from many. Those
about Bartimseus bade him hold his peace. '' Miser-
f^Irtrir ^uttiJa^ :n l^ettt. 127
able comforters are ye all." ^' A man's foes are they
of his own household." Those who would enter into
life are hindered often by familiar friends. Let them
cry so much the more a great deal, *' Thou Son of
David, have mercy upon me," for He is the Friend of
the friendless. '' The kingdom of heaven suffereth
violence, and the violent take it by force." It is
those who " overcome " who receive the promises ;
the men who will not be put down ; the martyrs, the
soldiers, those whose faith removes mountains.
Then jESUS stood still, and called him, and then
those who had hindered him encouraged him ; for
with the world nothing succeeds like success. But
oh, how true and wonderful and blessed are those
words, spoken by those who understood not what
they said : " He calleth thee ; " He, the Saviour of
the world, the mighty GOD, stands still for thee ;
He calleth thee ! His whole thought is about thee,
poor man, beggar, blind ; He occupies Himself with
thee ! His other work waits that He may attend
to thee ! Is not this the marvellous truth that dawns
upon the penitent soul, and draws him in a tumult
of wonder, gratitude, and love to his Saviour's feet ?
*^ He loved me, and gave Himself for me." See it
all pictured in Bartimaeus : ^' He casting away his
garment, rose, and came to jESUS." The poor
beggar-man flings away his one garment, all he
has, reckless, only eager for a far better possession ;
waiting for no helping, guiding hand, he rushes
forward, heedless of imminent stumbling and falls,
his ears guiding him, since his eyes cannot, with
arms outstretched, with tears streaming down his
poor face, and crying still, ''Thou Son of David,
have mercy on me." Well may our LORD say, '' Thy
faith hath saved thee." Faith cometh by hearing,
not by sight. Faith may be bHnd, but it leads to
Jesus; and He turns faith into sight.
Oh, for faith like that of Bartimseus ; grace to cast
128 ^h'tvb ^ttntra^ ttt ^znt
away all that would hinder our steps to our Lord's
feet ; grace to forsake all, that we may be His
disciples ; grace to fling away the tattered, ragged
robe of our own righteousness, and present ourselves,
without cloaking our sinfulness, to Him ! Oh for the
earnest, eager rush towards Him, disregarding all
else, fearing nothing, hindered by no one, not
seeing, but '' as it were a beast before Thee,"
guided by an instinct that is not reckoned among
the five senses, for it is implanted by God Himself,
Who gives the eagle power to find his unseen
food, and the dog to track his master by ways that
he has never seen, and makes the magnet turn ever
to its invisible pole !
Yes, the Christian's daily prayer is, '^ LORD, that
I may receive my sight." ^^ Lighten Thou mine eyes,
that I sleep not in death." Light was God's first
gift to the world ; light was God'S last best gift to
the world, jESUS CHRIST. Light is the symbol of
conversion in the repentant soul ; light is the emblem
of salvation to the glorified soul, as we read in the
Epistle to-day, '' Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise
from the dead, and CHRIST shall give thee light ; "
light, more light ; light within ; light at eventide ;
light in the dark valley ; Hght in the land where
the Lamb is their everlasting Light. Be this our
inheritance, and all our dark days shall be re-
membered no more.
JFourtlj Suntag in iLent,
SIN, A PARALYSIS OF THE SOUL.
As diseases are of many kinds, so are sins. The
effects of diseases upon the body are not more
varied than are the effects of sin upon the soul.
We have tried to learn some spiritual lessons from
our Lord's treatment of mental alienation, lepros}^
and blindness ; let us now see what is taught us in
rijs miraculous healing of Palsy.
The first case recorded is that which took place
at Capernaum. A multitude thronged the house
where our LORD was, listening to His teaching.
The friends of a poor paralytic carried him to the
place, hoping to ask our LORD to heal him ; but
when they came to the house, they found it so
crowded with eager and curious listeners that they
could not get in, and the people were either unable
or unwilling to make way for them to pass. They
would not give up the gratification of hearing the
new prophet's words ; no, not that a poor dis-
abled fellow-creature might have a chance of health
and soundness. The way of the world ! the
selfishness of human nature ! Each was afraid
that he would lose his place. Let some one else
move ; why should he ? We know what all this
means.
But the poor man had some true friends, if these
his neighbours and fellow-townsmen were thus un-
friendly. The four who had carried him so far
were not daunted by difficulties or stopped by the
I
130 yourtlr ^uniraj in ^eitt.
first rebuff. " Difficulty/' as it has been said, *' stupe-
fies the skiggish, advises the prudent, terrifies the
fearful, but animates the courageous to greater
exertion." The bearers carried the helpless sufferer
up the outside staircase common in the East, and
removing some of the flat roof, let down the man
into the midst of the audience, at the very feet of
Jesus.
Let us contemplate him, as he lies there. He
scarcely seems to ail anything ; there are no hideous
symptoms, as in leprosy ; his eyes are bright and in-
telligent, as they are fixed with earnest gaze upon
our Lord's face ; his own face is flushed with expecta-
tion ; he looks well and healthful ; yet he lies there,
unable to move. His limbs are sound, but their
nerves and muscles are powerless to obey his will ;
he tries to raise his arms, but they lie helpless, like
logs of wood, at his side ; he would walk ; he puts
forth the effort, but he is disobeyed by his own limbs ;
he seems to be two persons rather than one. His
body is hardly more his own than that of the pos-
sessed. Is not this a true picture of that of which
v/e read elsewhere ? The spirit is willing, the flesh
is weak. Is it not very much what St. Paul describes,
" The good that I would, I do not ; but the evil which
I would not, that I do. I see a law in my members,
warring against the law of my mind. O wretched
man that I am, who shall deliver me from this dead
body ? " The double consciousness of man has been
found out, wherever men have thought and reasoned.
Have not we found it out ? Have we not wondered
sometimes which is the true self, the self that is active,
loving, generous, noble, or the self that is slothful,
cowardly, mean, grovelling, despicable ? What great
and heroic actions we Avere going to do, and there
was nothing to hinder us, but some sort of spiritual
paralysis was upon us, and we did not stir. Look
at that man; talk to him; you are convinced that
yourtlr ^uttira^ iti Stent. 131
» ' — ■ ■
he has an immense reserve of latent power. How
he could preach ; how he could influence others ; what
powers of persuasion he has ; what winning manners ;
what Christ-like gifts ! Yet his life is a failure and
a disgrace. He fritters away years in trivialities ; he
lapses idly into gross indulgences ; he does no good
to himself, or to any one else ; and his end is shame
and ruin. Sin has paralysed some spiritual function,
and spoiled another noble vocation. Those who knew
him saw the mischief growing upon him ; he knew it
himself, but he never strove against it ; perhaps he
excused himself by saying the fault was in his blood ;
his father was so before him. It may have been so ;
and thus we see the far-reaching evil of a man's sin,
that it is visited upon his children ; or the responsi-
bility of those who train the young, if they do not
help them in advance to master the sin that easily
besets them, before it masters them.
For, notice that it is the work of this man's friends
that procures his cure. It was when our LORD saw
their faith that He stopped His teaching, and restored
the man who had lost all power, perhaps even the
energy to make his case known to Him, Who alone
could help him. Parents, teachers, friends, are taught
here how much they may do for those who are tied
and bound with the chain of their sins, hereditary
or personal, or both.
Our Lord turns to the man and says, " Be of good
cheer ; thy sins are forgiven thee." He was doubtless
downcast, and believed that he was suffering the due
punishment of his bitterly regretted sins. Perhaps
we are to understand that he had already truly re-
pented, and that he had been long since forgiven by
God ; for the temporal punishment of sin is often
continued when the eternal doom is remitted. So
it was with David ; with the disobedient prophet ;
with the antediluvians, as St. Peter seems to teach ;
with Moses ; and many more who, as St. Paul says,
132 ycitrtlj ^itntfag in irettt.
suffer here that their souls may be saved in the great
day. Then our LoRD gives the man vigour and health ,
and he goes away, carrying his bed, which hitherto
had borne him ; and the crowd that would not make
way for him in his misery were courteous enough
when he was able to push for himself. The way of
the world again !
The next miracle is one of the few related only by
St. John, and is full of remarkable details. A man
had been paralysed for thirt^'^-eight years, and la}- ,
Vv^ith many more sick folk, by the pool of Bethesda,
friendless, pushed aside by those who had friends ;
a whole lifetime of disease, helplessness, and dis-
appointment, settling down into despondency and
liopeless endurance. To this man, among the suffer-
ing multitude, Jp:sus comes. This man alone He
makes whole. Why did He not with the same word
restore every one of those sufferers to health and
usefulness ? Because His miracles were part of His
teaching. He did not come to upset the course of
the world, to remove every trace of evil ; the hour
was not come for that. What He did v/as to manifest
His power and His willingness to pardon sin, and to
redeem the souls of those who trust in Him. So He
s^js, even to this despairing cripple, '^Wilt thou be
made whole ? " For although we come into being with-
out our will, and go out of the world without our will,
we cannot be pardoned and saved without our will.
If we will not, GOD cannot. Sometimes the spiritual
paralysis affects the understanding and the con-
science ; the man does not know his misery ; he goes
gaily on, yet is dead while he lives. The outward
appearance is not changed ; only his judgment of right
and wrong is inactive. He has neither the will nor
the power to alter and amend his life.
There are many incidents that are interesting and
instructive; but we must only notice one or two.
Jesus does not forget the man. Just as He had
yourtlj .^uttiJan in S^nf. 133
searched out the man to whom He had given sight,
so He follows this man, for He had not yet done
with him. His case is selected, not for himself, but
that by it the whole world may be taught. It
was for us, then, for our instruction, that our ,L0RD
found that man, in the Temple, a few days after his
miraculous restoration to health.
Notice, then, the man was in the Temple, the best
and fittest place for one who had been so singularly
favoured and had received such a special blessing ;
and being in the house of Gou, the Son of GOD
manifests Himself to him. GOD's house is the house
of God's people. Hezekiah with his enemy's letter ;
Hannah with her great sorrow and her great want;
the publican with his repentance ; Simeon and Anna
with their patient hope; Mary when she had lost
her Divine Son, — all these betook themselves to the
Temple, and there they all found relief. And shall
we Christians not haunt the house of GOD ? And
shall those who come in faith fail to find a blessing ?
But let us specially notice what our LORD has to
say to the man ; what He meets him on purpose to
say to him, and through him to all the world, and to
each soul : ^' Sin no more, lest a worse thing come
unto thee." ^'A worse thing;" something worse
than thirty-eight years' impotency ; a lost, wasted,
helpless, useless life ; all the bright years of youth
and manhood, which others enjoyed, which others
spent in active work, in well-paid labour ; something
worse than this, the result of sin ! We know but little
of the world to come ; scarcely anything of the future
of souls, of the effects of sin, of the punishment of
disobedient, impenitent sinners. In the present day
there is a tendency to water down all terrors; to
understate God's judgments ; to hope where there
seems small ground for hope, in what it has pleased
God to tell us. There may have been mistakes
formerly in the opposite direction, but let us to-day
134 y^urtlr ^unirag in Xcttl.
. _ T
beware of a reaction equally mischievous. This life
shows us every day the terrible, widespread, long-
lasting misery that one pleasant, passing sin will bring.
Let us ponder our LORD'S words, " A worse thing ; "
and let us be afraid of running the awful risk that
creatures run who defy the laws of the Creator, and
put themselves in the path of inevitable, crushing
retribution. We have seen, we have felt, the natural
consequences of our sins ; there is ^* a worse thing "
yet, a longer period of consequences, a paralysis that
will hold us down, as in chains, while happy beings
soar upwards in glorious liberty, joyously exercising
every faculty, growing in knowledge and in power,
and ever advancing in spiritual manhood, in nearness
and likeness to GoD.
There is but one more miracle that seems to belong
to this class of disease — the healing of the man
whose right hand was withered. As we have already
noticed, sin does not always entirely possess a man.
Just as this man was sound everywhere except in
his one hand, so we may see many a man with one
besetting fault ; but very often that fault really spoils
his whole character, just as the uselessness of a
man's right hand will hinder him from getting his
living and will spoil his whole life.
It was the sin of Adam's right hand that ruined
himself and the world. A sudden blow struck with
the right hand makes a man a murderer, and turns a
free and useful being into a felon, doomed to shame-
ful and premature death. A few words written make
a man a forger, with the cheerless life of a convict
before him. Can we not carry out the analogy, and
see that sins, that bring us before the tribunal of
God, may in like manner, but yet more terribly, work
out awful results ?
In healing this man, as generally in His miracles,
our Lord makes the patient do something himself.
He says, " Stretch forth thy hand." We have already
ymirtlj ^uniag in S^eitt. 135
dwelt upon this. We cannot save ourselves; we
cannot do away our sins ; but what GOD has bidden
us do, that we must do, if we will have His pardon.
The gift is from GOD, but we must at least stretch
forth the hand to receive it.
At this Season there seems to be a special fitness
in this act. When the great Atonement for all sin
was made, the Saviour stretched forth His Hands
upon the Cross. He hung paralysed, every limb
immovable. His Hands stretched wide out; and
through this stretching forth of His Hands we were
made whole. So in the primitive Church Christians
prayed with the hands stretched forth ; their attitude
itself a Sacrament, pleading by the outstretched
Hands of their Saviour upon His Cross. So, in
prophetic action, Moses prayed with outstretched
hands, and gained victory in the unequal fight for
his people. So now before the Throne the Man
Christ Jesus, the Priest, pleads for us, and for His
Church, ever making intercession for us, who are fight-
ing and struggling on, sorely beset. Yes, Christ's
lightest word endures for ever. ^' Stretch forth thy
hand," He said to a crippled sufferer one day in the
synagogue at Capernaum, and the man was restored
to health and vigour. But the act was not over.
The word lives on. To each soul it is still spoken.
To us, with our failings, our sins, our sorrows, our
infirmities, our wants, our fears. He still says,
'' Stretch forth thy hands ; " lift them up unto the
Lord; pray with uplifted hands, and hearts that
strain upwards. "They that are CHRIST'S have
crucified the flesh." Their hands are outstretched,
nailed to the Cross, helpless for motion and work,
paralysed ; but the deep of their need calls to the deep
of His mercy and love, and He makes them whole.
JFtftf) <Suntia2 in iLcnt,
SIN, A DEAFNESS OF THE SOUL.
Isaiah had prophesied of the days of MESSIAH, that
" the ears of the deaf shall be unstopped, and the
tongue of the dumb shall sing." We might expect,
then, that among the miracles of CHRIST supernatural
cures of these unfortunates would be found. In the
general enumeration of our LORD'S miracles, the
Evangelists say that many deaf and dumb persons
came and were restored to the use of their deficient
faculties. One or two cases are briefly narrated, and
one is described at length.
Learned physiologists tell us that in the case of
the deaf and dumb the original fault is in the hearing,
and that dumbness is merely the result of ignorance
of the nature of sounds. This seems to be proved
when we find that modern practical science can
actually teach the deaf and dumb to speak. They are
taught by touch to use the vocal organs, which are
often quite perfect, and so can express their thoughts
and wishes in articulate v/ords, which we can hear
and understand, though the mutes themselves cannot
hear anything that they so mechanically utter.
Speech is so common that we forget how wonder-
ful and how noble a faculty it is. The lower animals
have thought and reason, more or less ; some appear
to have an unknown method of communicating cer-
tain ideas to one another. Many have instincts that
enable them to do what we cannot do. But no animal
has speech. Some birds can be taught to repeat
136
words, but they cannot converse or express their own
thoughts or wants in words. We see, then, that a
deaf and dumb person is by his infirmity very sadly
degraded ; his manhood seems to be impaired, and
he is lowered to the condition of the dumb animal.
The tongue, therefore, is called the ** best member "
that a man has. It is a small part of the body, but
it is all-powerful. As St. James reminds us, it is
like the rudder of a ship or the " bit in the horse's
mouth. A persuasive tongue can sway multitudes,
can rule the destinies of empires, and can change the
fate of immortal beings. The tongue ^' set on fire of
hell," used as an instrument by evil spirits or evil
men, can ruin souls. The tongue attuned to speak
by the Pentecostal fire can convert sinners and add
to the number of the saints.
We might expect, then, that the Saviour of the
world, the Teacher of truth, the Restorer of man
to his lost dignity and privileges, w^ould certainly,
in His instruction of men and in His revelation of
God by miracles, give some lessons in connection
with the faculty of speech. This is made all the
more probable when we listen to St. John, who
is divinely instructed to describe CHRIST as the
*' Word of God." In His eternal generation from
the Father, in His revelation to us of the mind and
will and nature of GOD, in His power to affect our
minds, our hearts, and our lives, in all these ways
the title " the Word of GOD " symbolises the nature
and work of the Son of GOD. Words reveal
thoughts which cannot otherwise be known ; words
sway our judgment ; words generate acts. It is
Christ who is preached, CHRIST crucified, and
faith Cometh by hearing. CHRIST dwells, lives,
works, in us, and transforms us into His own like-
ness. It is the ear, not of the body, but of the soul,
that must receive the Word ; and that ear may be
-deaf, just as the bodily ear may be deaf.
t38 fiftlj ^uniraj in fi:ni.
— ■ — — ^
The old prophets who spoke in GOD's name to
their people, and spoke in vain, said that this
spiritual deafness had come upon them. They had
ears, but heard not. They were " like the deaf
adder," and so, as if to shame them, the prophets
address themselves to things without life, to the
senseless earth, to cities, to beasts and other deaf
and dumb creatures, who will not be more unmoved
by their words than these reasonable men endowed
with human faculties and senses.
It is a law of nature that faculties gain power by
use, and are weakened, and even lost, if they are not
exercised. The mechanic, the musician, the artist,
by constant and long-continued practice, teaches his
hand to do wonderful feats with readiness and ease.
The sailor and the astronomer can see what men
whose eyes have not been so trained cannot in the
least discover. The Httle child has limbs, but has
to learn how to walk by patient trying. Just so the
spiritual body may be developed by constant and
energetic exercise of its senses and powers, and the
saint may see, and hear, feel and do, what other
men can neither do nor even understand.
In the Mammoth Cave in America there are fish,
but there is no light in the underground cave, and
consequently the fish in it have no eyes. There is
the external appearance and semblance of eyes, but
the internal mechanism is wanting. The eyes seem
to have gradually wasted away through disuse. In
many other instances naturalists point out organs in
animals that have never been developed, or which
have been weakened and rendered merely rudimen-
tary. Still more marvellous changes may be seen
in the transformation of certain creatures, whose in-
ternal and external parts undergo alteration, growth,
or extinction as their environment requires. Some
insects pass through several conditions ; at one time
living in the water, at another flying in the air, then
yiftlj ^uniia^ in ^tnt 139
««
existing upon or under the ground. The frog is at
first a fish, with gills to extract the oxygen from the
water; but as it develops into a land-animal the gills
waste away and lungs are formed. Sea-birds have
been fed upon grain, and pigeons upon flesh, till
their digestive organs have been entirely transformed.
The fossil remains of fish and land-animals of former
ages of the world's history, when temperature, light,
and vegetable life were very different from what they
are now, show that nature adapted itself to the con-
ditions that prevailed, and that then, as now, functions
that were not required were in abeyance, while those
that were necessary to life and progress were active,
and inclined to grow and expand.
Is it not reasonable, then, to suppose that the facul-
ties and powers of the soul should follow the same
laws ? Can we not see how the sins of the fathers
must be visited upon the children, and that irreligion
may be hereditary, as truly as a bodily disease, or a
particular feature, or a habit, or a taste ? The deaf
and dumb are said to be very often the offspring
of consanguineous marriages. If the law of nature
avenges itself when it is violated, why should not
the law of GOD, in spiritual powers, in like manner,
work out its own punishments ? We are not only
wonderfully made, but fearfully made. Men may
and do degrade themselves, till they are more animal
than spiritual. Men and women congratulate them-
selves that they are not vicious, that they do not lead
immoral lives, that they are not guilty of gross sins ;
but surely that is but little for a reasonable being,
endowed with noble spiritual faculties and powers,
to boast of. Sins of omission are as fatal and
much more common, than actual sins. Our Lord's
teaching everywhere insists upon this. Look at the
faces of some people whom we meet in the streets.
Is not the animal more visible than the intellectual
and the spiritual ? Is not the mark of the beast
I40 JFiftlj ^nnba^ in f ent.
more evident than the image of GoD ? It is partly
hereditary, as we have said, partly by actual choice,
that the spiritual ear has become deaf. The ear does
not care to hear the word from GOD ; then it grows
weak and impotent by disease ; and at last its powers
disappear altogether. People keep away from church
from distaste, because they like other things better ;
and then, when they come, those other things are
still ringing in their ears ; they cannot keep up at-
tention, they are practically deaf; they never hear
w^hat is said, or they hear and do not understand ;
and they are not converted and healed, though the
Great Healer is close at hand, and does mighty works
upon others at their side.
People put away religion because, as they sa\',
they feel no want of it, no pleasure in it. They
seem to think that this settles the matter ; whereas
they ought to be alarmed at the fact that there is a
failure in their spiritual organisation ; just as a man
would be alarmed who found that a bodily sense was
becoming weaker and weaker.
It is often forgotten that sloth is one of the deadly
sins. There are many idle men, and still more idle
women, in the world, and this idleness degenerates
them. Men and women have faculties and powers,
which God gave them to use, to develop, to be a
joy and a blessing to themselves and to others, but
being never exercised, these faculties weaken, and are
consumed with a deadly atrophy. Their talents are
buried. What will they say when He Who lent them
demands them with usury ? Just so it is with spiri-
tual gifts. On every side there are men and women
who were meant to be saints, and who through mere
sloth are very poor and contemptible creatures.
But now let us briefly notice the circumstances of
our Lord's miraculous healing of the deaf and dumb.
In this case, as in many others, it was through the
intercession of friends that the cure was eifected.
IFiftlj ^xxttba^ in jtctiL 141
The Church is a body coi-porate. If one member
suffers, all suffer with it ; if one rejoices, all are
gladdened. This great fact is little understood in
the present day. Schism and want of faith have
obscured one of the most noble truths that ought
to be the glory of Christians. Intercessory prayer,
therefore, is neglected, because it is not understood,
and blessings that might be had are never obtained.
" Ye have not because ye ask not."
When the man is brought to our LORD, he is led
away by Him from the multitude into some quiet place.
We have already noticed how our LORD not infre-
quently did this, and how we learn from His act that
it is often necessary that old associates should be left,
and a thorough change of life be adopted, before a
new and better beginning can be made. Then our
Lord put His Finger into his ear and restored his
hearing. We notice that, in another place, our LORD
claims to do His miracles with ^'the Finger of GOD ; "
and the same phrase is used with respect to the
miracles of Moses. The Law, too, was said to have
been written at Sinai by ^^ the Finger of God ; " and
in the Mosaic ritual, the unclean were reconciled by
being touched by the priest's finger, which had been
dipped in holy oil. All these symbolic acts point to
the work of the HOLY GHOST in the Church. '' In
faithful hearts he writes the law, the Finger of God's
Hand." Just as the fingers carry out the designs of
a man's mind, so does GoD, by the spiritual agencies
of His Church, effect His will. There is still power
to heal in the Church of CHRIST. The Word of
God is quick and powerful. The deaf ears may
still be opened, and the soul that was dumb as a
beast be made to speak and praise GOD.
The same peculiar act was used by our LORD in this
as in some other miracles which we have noticed :
'^ He spit, and touched his tongue," and then the man
spake plainly. He had not altogether lost the power
142 3F:ftIr ^uttJtaj in '^znt,
of speech, but almost. Perhaps he could make sounds,
but could not frame words, and so, as we have said,
he had become more like a dumb beast than a man.
So some are more, some less, spiritually dumb, more
or less like the beasts, fallen from man's high estate.
Then our LORD sighed ; perhaps at the sight of
human degradation, as elsewhere we are told that
He groaned, or wept, or cried, '' O faithless genera-
tion, how long shall I be with you, how long shall I
suffer you ? " and He looked up to heaven, as if
thinking of the order, obedience, and happiness there,
where God's will is done, in contrast with the misery
that men drag down upon them here, through dis-
obedience and wilful choice of evil. Or perhaps it
was even at the thought of the doubtful benefit He
was conferring upon this man. For so long as he
was dumb, one great source of sin was closed, but
with the restored gift of speech would come the
numberless sins of the tongue. So it must ever be.
God's gifts involve responsibility, and are a blessing
or a curse as men use or abuse them. Better for
some if they were dumb than that they should sin
against GOD, against their neighbour, and against
their own souls, as they do, by multitudes of idle
words, by words untrue, profane, or words that will
produce an evil crop of mischief far and wide ; for
" If any man seem to be religious, and bridleth not
his tongue, that man's religion is vain ; " and ^' For
every idle word (that is, literally, every word that
does no work) men shall give account in the Day of
Judgment."
^' He that hath ears to hear, let him hear." Over
and over again our LORD repeats these words. His
people were dull of hearing. Never man spake as
He, yet they could not hear. They closed their ears
and hardened their heart, lest they should be con-
verted and He should heal them. There are none
so deaf as those who will not hear : —
fHih ^utttra^ in f ettt. '43
" The deaf heart, the dumb by choice,
The laggard soul that will not wake,
The guilt that scorns to be forgiven,
These baffle e'en the spells of heaven."
The dumb animals cannot speak; they cannot
understand human language, yet they learn to do
what we wish, to obey what we command ; but men
hear and disobey the voice of God.
Well does the Church preface each day's service
with the warning of Israel's bad example, and cry
to us, " To-day, if ye will hear His voice, harden not
your hearts." Shall all voices be heard except His ?
We are taught to speak by what we hear. " Take
heed how ye hear." As there are eyes that are
colour-blind, so there are ears that can hear some
sounds, but not others. There are ears that take
no pleasure in music, that are untrue and cannot
detect discords ; and old age makes all sounds dim,
and hearing imperfect and deceitful. ''To-day," then,
cries the Church, ''to-day, before spiritual disease
and spiritual decrepitude come on; to-day, while
you can hear, hearken and obey, lest, hearing and
questioning, you become dumb, like Zecharias ; or,
liearing and fearing not, you lose the power of re-
pentance, like Judas; or, hearing and postponing,
you have no other opportunity, like Felix ; or, hear-
ing and boasting, you fall terribly, like Peter; or,
hearing and mocking, you hear nothing more till the
crack of doom, like the antediluvians and the sons
of Lot in Sodom."
There is an old legend of one who, wandering at
noonday in a wood, stopped to listen to the song of
some marvellous bird, and stood silent, holding his
breath, ravished by its sweetness, as he thought, but
a little while ; and then returned by the way he had
come, sighing sadly because the heavenly music had
so quickly ceased, but found that three hundred
years had passed* There is one Voice that can
144 ytftlj .^Kttiraj lit $ent.
charm the heart of man, and make time pass, and
turn troubles to gladness. Let us hear His words,
for they are sweet; so sweet that they who hear
them keep silence to hear them better; so sweet
that they make us dumb, for our speaking would
drown their sound ; and if we were to speak, what
could we answer fittingly ?
The day draws on apace when we all shall be deaf
and dumb ; deaf to all sounds of earth, even the
voices of our dearest ; dumb, for approaching death
shall seal our lips. Let us pray now, while we can ;
pray now, that we may be helped in that day when
we shall lie helpless, speechless, prayerless. And
may that other day come to us when the touch of
the same Restorer shall open our mouth and unstop
our ears, and we shall find ourselves in the midst of
the hymning chorus of God's countless hosts of
joyous creatures, and we too shall break forth into
singing, in the song that we have never learned, but
which v/ells forth instinctively from the lips that
have never ceased to pray, from those whose ears
have been ever open to the voice of GOD, the never-
ceasing song of thanksgiving, adoration, and praise
before the Throne of GoD and of the Lamb.
Sixtl) <Sunliag in ttnt
SIN, THE DEATH OF THE SOUL.
All disease is partial death. All the miracles of
healing were partial resurrections. In some cases
one or other of the five senses was dead ; in others a
fatal malady had laid hold of the body, and life was
being surely vanquished, and death was full in view
and inevitable. There was no more difficulty with
our Lord in raising the dead to life than in giving
sight to the blind or health to the leper. If we knew
all the secrets of nature, we should probably see
that giving life to the departed was not different in
kind, but only in degree, from giving health to the
sick. A clever architect can not only repair the wing
of a palace that has become dilapidated, but can re-
build the whole edifice, if it has been totally destroyed.
It is probable that our LORD raised many more dead
to life than those three whose cases the Evangelists
record. In His message to the Baptist, He speaks
of such miracles as equally common with those that
restored the sick to health. Most likely there were
good reasons for suppressing many particulars. It
is only in St. John's Gospel, written at a distance,
and long after the event, that the name is mentioned
of any of those who were raised from the dead. And,
as we shall see, there appears to be a special instruc-
tion in spiritual truth conveyed to us in the circum-
stances of these three resurrections, which have been
selected for perpetual remembrance. There were
many blind, lame, possessed, palsied, who were net
145 K
14^ ^liEtlj ^uttiaii in Ifunt.
healed. We cannot believe that the cases selected
were taken at random. So we believe that those
who were recalled from the unseen world, to live a
second life and to die a second death, were chosen
by God for this singular experience, and that what
has been written is given to us for our learning, and
that we must search and examine it, as the geologist
scrutinises the fossils and the rocks.
Let us, then, take the three miracles of resurrection
as parables to teach us some truths respecting sin,
and its consequences to the soul, and how in Christ
both one and the other are done away.
A maiden of twelve years old, in all the sweet
freshness of youth and beauty, in the perfection of
virgin loveliness, in that Eastern clime, is seized by
fatal disease. There is no hope ; the last agony has
come ; the mother watches fast by the bed ; but the
father, hearing that Jesus is near, desperate, heart-
broken, hardly hoping, yet unable to refrain from
doing anything that may perhaps bring good, hurries
to the house where Jesus is dining, probably St.
Matthew's, and interrupting His teaching, passion-
ately prays Him to save his dying child. Our LORD
at once rises from table and goes with the sorrowing
father ; but delay occurs. A poor woman, who had
been d3dng for twelve years, as the daughter of
Jairus had been living for twelve years, by mighty
faith snatches a cure from CHRIST as He passes;
so that it happens, but doubtless not by accident,
that before He reaches the house friends meet Him
with the tidings that death has finished its work.
They seem to think that this puts the matter out of
the power even of this great wonder-worker. But
our Lord bids the father not heed them, but sustain
his faith in Him. He enters the house, and quietly
puts out the noisy weepers, who, according to Oriental
custom, are filling the air with lamentations, saying,
^' The maid is not dead, but sleepeth." He takes
Mixih ^uttbau in |£ent. 147
the father and mother and three disciples, and in the
calm silence lays His hand gently upon the white
little hand of the child, and as if speaking to the
living, bids her rise. In a moment life returns; health
mantles the pale cheek; the child starts from her
bed, scarce knowing where she is ; then ready to
faint with the tumult of amazement and bewildering
sensations, our LORD calls all to common-sense duty
by bidding them give her some much-needed food.
Here, then, we have pictured to us the deadly
effects of sin, even in its least offensive and terrible
forms. The little corpse was pale, but still beautiful.
Death had but just done its work ; the body was
uncorrupt, still in life's dress ; lying upon a bed, not
on a bier ; in the house, not in the grave, or even on
the way to it. Such is the state of the soul that has
sinned in thought, secretly, unknown to others, that
has been surprised suddenly, or first yielded to in-
herited predisposition to evil. Yet the result is
death. Adam stood in the full strength and beauty
of his perfect manhood, when he had disobeyed God's
command ; yet his soul was dead within him, as GOD
had said. He had cut himself off from GOD, whence
his life came, and by Whom it was momentarily sus-
tained ; and, like a branch torn from a tree, he was
dead. Oh, that we could understand this and fear ;
and v/hen we have fallen into mortal sin, hurry to
the feet of Christ, Who is the resurrection and the
life, that we may be pardoned and arise again living
souls ! Alas ! are there not many dead souls about
us ? Every sign of death is seen in them. Every
spiritual sense and faculty is useless, lifeless. The
lips do not move in prayer ; the heart does not beat in
unison with the heart of CHRIST ; the hands are not
outstretched towards GOD ; the spirit cleaves to the
earth ; no voice rouses it ; no aspiration energises
it ; there is the shell and appearance of a man made
in the image of GOD, but there is no life, no growth,
148 ^ixtlj ^ixniJay :n Jcnt.
. — . — ___ — __ — ■^
no appetite, no movement ; all is of the earth ; to the
earth and corruption it returns.
The next miracle is remarkable, because it was
performed unasked; unless the widowed mother's
streaming tears can be said to have appealed with
silent eloquence to the compassion of the Man of
Sorrows. They were carrying a young man of Nain
to his grave, and jESUS met them. To the mother
He said, '^Weep not." Then He went up to the
bier and laid His hand upon it and bade the dead
live, and it was done.
There seems to be here a worse case than the last.
Death has triumphed; his victim is no longer reckoned
among the living; they carry the body from their
company to darkness and corruption. So is it with
sin that has gone on from thought to act, from secret
consent to open transgression of the laws of GOD and
man. Here even men, for their own defence, separate
the evil-doer from their midst, in punishment and in
self-preservation. They consider the case desperate ;
no one even asks for pardon ; no one hopes for re-
storation. Yet here the Saviour can help, and does
restore. So it was that He earned the title of the
Friend of sinners. So it has been many times since.
Many a Magdalen, many a one who has rightly
called himself the chief of sinners, many a prodigal,
many a condemned malefactor, has turned to the All-
merciful and found pardon and life, when the due
reward of evil deeds had been sadly reaped, and all
men shook their heads, and said that hope was passed,
and that justice must have its course, unhampered
by mercy's pleas.
But there is yet another case that seemed even
more desperate, more utterly beyond the region of
hope. Lazarus had been buried; four days had
passed since he died. Not only was every limb
helpless, every sense inoperative, but the dreadful
change had begun ; the body itself was passing away,
dissolving to its original elements, in loathsome,
foetid decay, a wreck and a ruin ! It was CHRIST'S
will that so it should be. He had been told that His
friend was sick ; a word would have made him whole,
but He would not utter it. He knew that he was
dead, but He tarried still where He was, that GOD's
glory might be the more manifested ; that we might
be taught His boundless power and grace ; just as
He had tarried on the road to the house of Jairus,
and the child had died while He was talking with
the poor woman who had been healed by touching
the hem of His garment.
The record of the raising of Lazarus is full of the
most interesting and touching circumstances, which
greatly tempt us to linger over them, and to draw
out the marvellous and blessed teaching with which
they abound. But we must deny ourselves all this,
and keep the one clear, plain lesson before our eyes.
That shortest verse of the Bible, ^'Jesus wept,'*
contains a whole Gospel. The faith of the sisters
is wonderful. The groaning of Jesus, that is so
variously understood, from indignation at the sight
of the misery resulting from the Fall, to reluctance
to call Lazarus back from Abraham's bosom to a
world of pain and sin, and to a second death, the
thought of which, a legend says, caused Lazarus
never again to smile during the thirty years of his
second life ; the prayer ; the hardness of the Jews,
who could see all this, and yet not only still continue
in unbelief, but plot all the more eagerly to put
Jesus to death, and Lazarus with Him, — all this,
and much more, must not now detain us. All we have
to notice is, that CHRIST called the dead by name,
and that he came forth alive ; and being freed from
his grave-clothes by friends' hands, he returned to
life and home, sound and well.
If, then, the widow's son, carried to his grave,
represents the sinner who has been carried away
1^0
^tjtlj .^uttirAj in ^tnt
by habitual sin, till there seems no hope of repent-
ance, this case of Lazarus depicts a yet lower depth
of sinful degradation, the unusual cases of monsters
of iniquity. Even for these, then, there is mercy
with God. The atonement for sin was infinite, and
these men's sins, though enormous, are but finite.
There is nothing too hard for the LORD. ^' Deep
answereth to deep ; " the deep of His mercy to the
deep of the greatest sinner's greatest need.
There is a touching legend of the Middle Ages, of
one who had outraged every law of GOD and man, and
who, desiring to repent and be pardoned, went from
priest to priest, and from bishop to bishop, but none
would absolve him. So he wandered through Europe,
from shrine to shrine, till he came to the Pope himself.
He found him sitting in a garden, and then and there,
without waiting, in his impetuosity, for due forms,
to him he confessed his Hfe of violence, lust, and
apostas}^, and implored absolution and reconciliation.
But the Pope started from him with horror, and
thrusting his walking-stick into the ground, left it and
him, saying that as soon would that dry staff return
to life and fruitfulness as such a sinner would be for-
given. Next day, as the Pope walked again in the
garden, lo ! the stick had budded, like Aaron's rod, and
he saw that there was pardon through the Precious
Blood of Christ, even for the vilest of sinners.
Judas is perhaps the only human being who is
absolutely said to be lost. But was he lost because
of his dreadful sin ? Surely not. It were a dis-
honour to Christ to say so. " The Blood of Jesus
Christ cleanseth from all sin." It was the im-
penitence of Judas, not his sin, that ruined him. It
was his going away from CHRIST that sealed his
doom.
Oh, let us understand this, that sin is death, but
Jesus is life ! He says not, '' I shall be the resurrec-
tion," but, ^' I am the resurrection." We are living
^i^tlr ^untra^ in l^tnt, 151
now in Him, or we are dead. Many times we die ;
many times we rise again. Sin is death to us, but
to Christ it is but sleep; for His mercy can restore
us, His pardon can cleanse us. The Christian is
Lazarus, for the name means ^* GOD is my helper."
Lazarus was raised, but died again ; so the righteous
falleth seven times, and riseth again. Just as a ship
goes on her wa}^, rising and falling upon the waves,
so does the Christian soul stagger on to the haven
where it would be. JeSUS CHRIST came into the
world to save sinners — great sinners, as well as
those who have not sinned so deeply. ^^ Whosoever
believeth in Him, though he were dead, yet shall he
live." The sick He can heal; the dead He can
raise — the dead in trespasses and sins. The dead
hear His voice and live ; for He is, now and ever,
the Resurrection and the Life. By nature we are
dead, but our baptism grafted us into Him, Who is
the Tree of Life. In Him we must abide; to Him
we must return, if sin has separated us from Him ;
from Him we must derive the food that sustains our
spiritual life ; by Him we conquer death and hell ;
and He, Who is now our resurrection and life, will
raise us up to eternal life at the last day.
And now let us just notice one or two interesting
points in all the miracles that indicate how far man
is called upon to co-operate in this blessed work of
Christ. In the case of the daughter of Jairus, it
was the father's earnest entreaty, his unshaken faith
in the power and love of ClIRIST, that was the first
instrumental cause in bringing life to the dead.
Here, as in so many other instances, we see how
we may help others by prayer, and by putting them
within reach of the merciful and Almighty Hands.
Then we notice that, when the child was raised from
death to life, our LORD bade her parents give her
food. This they could do; therefore He does not
do it for them. So must the pardoned soul seek
152' ^i^tlj <^iitt5ay in ^zixt
1
food in the Holy Communion, that its renewed life
may be sustained.
In the next miracle the Church's work is still more
clearly seen. Her son is dead, yet the mother follows
weeping, and her tears excite the compassion of
Jesus, and, without any other appeal, He restores
the lost. So in the Litany and other prayers, but
especially by the great Eucharistic sacrifice, the
Church prays for all, though they are past hearing
and knowing it. Many a strange conversion is,
doubtless, the result of such prayers. The Church
is typified by the widow ; for her LORD has gone,
and each son is esteemed her only one, her darling ;
for, like her LORD, she loves each as if there were no
other. And so, when the dead is raised, he is de-
livered to his mother, for she best, she only, can give
him the care, the home, the love, he needs.
In the case of Lazarus similar truths are shadowed
forth. Christ alone could give life, but He left
others to loose the grave-clothes and free the fettered
body from the trappings of the dead. So GOD par-
dons, while man absolves. GOD forgives sin, but
man may restore the penitent to the Church, and help
him on his way. The father bade his servants clothe
his prodigal son. Our LORD ordered others to move
the stone from the grave. One He bade wash in
Siloam ; others to go to Jerusalem ; another to
stretch out his hand. So it is still ; the human and
the Divine are mixed ; GoD'S power and man's
obedience ; the might of GOD'S fiat and the con-
dition of our poor faith ; the finished work of CHRIST,
once for all accomplished, and the daily application
of that work by the ministry of His Church. Nature
has a similar rule. Some things she alone can do ;
some are left to us. The heart receives and sends
out the blood ; the lungs expand and contract ; the
unseen chemistry of digestion, nutrition, restoration,
goes on involuntarily, automatically, without us;
^ktlj .^ntttra^ in Stent. 153
but we must provide food ; we must, by ordinary
prudence, care, and knowledge, protect the body
from cold and heat, from injury and death.
Let us remember that the Church is GOD's own
instrument, not man's invention. Its doctrines, its
practices, its principles, will bear investigation and
criticism. But the wise and devout do not criticise,
but gladly use what is provided for their sore needs.
Sin and death are the ever-present dangers, the ever-
attacking enemies of the soul ; the faithful know,
by happy experience, that CHRIST is the resurrec-
tion and the life, and that " whosoever believeth
in Him shall never die."
faster Bag.
THE ANGEL IN THE SEPULCHRE.
What a strange sight it was that presented itself
to Mary Magdalen as she gazed into the sepulchre
on Easter morning ! An angel sitting calm and beau^
tiful in the place of the dead ! A living being in a
grave ! A young man, in the perfection of strength
and beauty, in the place of decay and horror ! An
angel from heaven's bright realms in earth's darkest
and most shameful corner ! Life in death's domain ;
whiteness and purity where foulness is expected ;
placid rest where wasteful, cruel destruction usually
does its worst ! A sure sign that some great event
has happened ; that Death, man's last w^orst enemy,
has received a defeat; that the grave has changed its
character and has been stripped of its awful attributes.
Mankind has ever respected the graves of the
dead. He has reared up mounds, or monstrous
stones, or exquisitely carved monuments. He has
laid there his gifts and offerings. He has made
periodical visits to the place where he has laid his
great, his loved, his beautiful ones. But he has care-
fully kept outside the tomb ; he has had no wish to
uncover the sad picture that lies hidden beneath the
storied stone, to remove the beautiful mask that veils
the terrible, unwelcome truth.
But to-day there is a wide-open grave, and within
it a bright, joyous guardian, who invites mourners to
gaze there, without fear of wounded feelings or out-
raged instincts. All death is revolting to living crea-
154
(Baater ga^. 15S
tures; but man's death is something more. It is
God's own dreadful punishment of sin. It is the
never-ceasing proof that the curse of the Fall is still
working. The grave is the gate that shuts out the
light of day. It is the end of Hfe's brightness, of
love's hopes and joys ; and man fears that it is the
entrance to grim, desolate realms where retribution
overtakes transgression and a man's sins at last
find him out.
Birth and marriage have ever been surrounded
with joy and brightness, white and gay colours, and
goodly company and good cheer ; these have seemed
fitting for such occasions, as fitting and seemly then
as they have been esteemed out of place at death
and the grave-side.
All this is changed to-day. CHRIST had said,
more than once, of the dead that they did but sleep,
and in proof He had called back the never-quenched
spirit, to prove its continued life by entering again
the deserted body. But now He Himself has passed
through that dark valley; like Samson, letting Himself
be bound only that His mighty power might be seen
and known and His victory be more complete. Till
He came men lamented the dead with despairing
sorrow. He has changed all, and says, '' Blessed
are the dead, for they rest. Blessed are the holy
dead, for they hunger no more, nor thirst ; all tears
are wiped away ; the conflict is over, the victory is
won ; they have risen to a higher, an endless life."
Such has ever been GOD's way. In the beginning
the earth was without form and void, and darkness
reigned ; but out of the darkness there came light ;
out of Chaos, order and beauty. The black, noisome
earth is the fruitful womb from which springs forth
the tender green shoot, the delicate flower, tinted
like the sky at sunset, scented with perfume that
seems like the breath of a sinless world.
Look at that poor wooden toy that man has made.
156 (Basttt ga^.
A child may stamp it to splinters; a shower will
make it fall to pieces. Presently a divinely taught
artist takes it up, and from its frail earth-born bosom
will come such melodies as will entrance the soul,
sweet breathings that whisper thoughts which no
words can describe, grand martial shouts that ex-
press the noblest thoughts and stir the great to
deeds of daring. There is music in heaven. Music
has strictest laws. Our voices, our instruments, are,
must be, in harmony with the angels' harps and the
songs that echo in the eternal realms. Yet whence
do they come? How are they produced? From
what vile origins ! by what feeble powers ! Is it not
all like the bright, pure, white-stoled angel sitting
throned, beautiful, happy, in the open sepulchre ?
Shall we seek more resemblances in GOD's works
and providences ? What was Isaac, i.e., ^' laughter,"
the noble boy that gladdened the dead old age of
Abraham and Sarah ? What was the birth of the
great race of Israel from the slave-yards of Egypt ?
What was the Church of CHRIST, the creation of
twelve poor peasants out of an apostate nation and
an effete civilisation, like the honey that Samson
found in the dead lion's carcass ?
But why tarry over symbols when the reality is at
hand? What need to wonder at effects when we
may see and handle the cause ? There was a resur-
rection long before CHRIST came forth from Joseph's
tomb, and angels were present then. There was a
poor maiden of the Stem of Jesse at Nazareth ; to
her cottage came Gabriel, brightening that lowly
place, as this angel made the grave beautiful to-day.
And when Mary spake the word of faith and obedi-
ence the prophecy was fulfilled ; the Seed of the
woman, the Son of David, took human flesh. What
was the angel in the sepulchre to that ? Humanity
was cursed and dead, but He Who is Life sprang
forth from it, pure and undefiled.
(gftster ga^. i57
Then, again, at Bethlehem, we see an angel, this
time in a sheepfold, and he tells his auditors of
another resurrection. The hidden GOD has ap-
peared. In a stable, among cattle, the Incarnate lies.
Humanity has budded, and blossomed, and borne
fruit; human nature has had its resurrection. It
died in Adam ; it rose when CHRIST was born, when
GoD-made-flesh came forth and was the second
Adam. The lowliest joined to the highest ; a contra-
diction to poor reason, a triumph and glory to faith.
Human religions follow the opposite rule to this.
They descend from great to little, from good to bad,
from bad to worse. When Egyptian worship was
in all its glory, one who lived then, and saw it,
describes its shameful, disappointing climax. Never
has the world seen such magnificence in external
worship as was seen then. Far away from the
Temple stretched the avenue of sphinxes. He who
approached the shrine was warned long before of
the sanctity of the abode of the god. Huge figures,
with solemn, majestic faces, eyed him into silent re-
collection as he paced on, each seeming to have a
menacing scowl for the careless and the undevout.
The worshipper is awe-struck more and more each
step he takes. At last he comes to a towering pro-
pylon, built of mighty stones, painted with a thou-
sand symbolic figures, guarded by grave custodians,
who stop him, question, instruct, warn him, and by-
and-by let him pass on. There is still an avenue
in long perspective, shutting out the common world,
shutting in the vision, so that nothing but the distant
Temple can be seen. The magnificence of the sur-
roundings increases ; there are guards at short in-
tervals ; there are priests ; there are lustral rites and
purifications that must not on any account be omitted,
complicated ceremonies, no single item of which any
one dare neglect or even carelessly perform. At last
the Temple gate is reached, jealously guarded. There
15^ (Baatcr gau.
are again more hindrances, more questionings, more
observances. Then who shall describe the grandeur,
the beauty, the costliness, of the interior of the
Temple ? Vastness, height, elaboration, the best and
noblest that man can do after centuries of civilisa-
tion, centuries of patient improvement, are there.
Incense, music, gold and jewels, white-robed priests,
gorgeous endless processions winding their way
amidst the forest of pictured columns. And all leads
on to the innermost shrine, the most sacred adytum.
And what is there ? The historian tells us that the
high -priest, with many prostrations, with awe-struck
face, with warning finger, leads on the visitant to a
heavy curtain that hides the holiest place, and draw-
ing it aside, allows a few moments' contemplation of
the object of worship. And what is it ? What does
all this elaborate preparation lead to ? Dimly, in the
half-lighted chamber, there was seen, wallowing upon
a sumptuous crimson carpet, a bull, a crocodile, or a
serpent !
Much the same are modern systems. The super-
natural is done away; revelation is disbelieved;
God is denied ; yet man must worship something.
He is bidden to worship Humanity, an idealised self,
a future, highly civilised, vastly progressed human
nature, in some indefinite and vastly distant period,
perhaps to be developed and evolved ! Is this pro-
gress ? Is this an advance, an improvement upon
Christianity ? These systems have, in point of fact,
been tried, and they have utterly failed. There is
little or nothing new in modern unbelief. Clever,
restless minds have thought out all these questions
ages ago. Before Christianity came the world was
trying to do without GOD. We know the result. The
world was like a sepulchre, the grave of all men's
hopes ; and in that grave Christianity sat herself, like
this angel in that garden grave ; and she, a messenger
from God, told men of a risen Saviour, of hope, of
(BazUt ga^. 159
high purpose, of a life worth living, and her message
turned despair to joy. It freed the slave ; it raised
woman ; it created a noble civilisation. It taught men
how to live and how to die. And what it did for
the world it did also in individual hearts. Magdalens
who are but living graves, prodigals who had wasted
life and had nothing but its dead husks left, to these
came a messenger of light and joy, and they rose
again from death to life. What is the heart of the
communicant ? A poor, sinful, failing man's heart,
more like a sepulchre than a palace ; yet thither comes
not angels, but the angels' LORD, to dwell, to lighten>
to give life. And so old Polycarp went to martyrdom
with tottering steps, but joyous face, knowing that
he bore within his feeble, dying frame the ever-living
Lord, His Saviour and His GoD.
And shall we not take one step more, and look
on to higher progress yet ? What are those '^good
desires " of which the Collect speaks to-day ? Are
they not like this bright angel in the sepulchre?
Just one little spot of light in the midst of darkness,
one living thing where there is so much death ; dead
hopes, dead affections, dead purposes, a thousand
thousand growths that have sprung up there and
lived awhile, and then died down, till our heart is
but a graveyard, where all we once loved best lies
buried. Yet in these " good desires," heaven-born,
there is Easter hope. We pray that they may be
'* brought to good effect," that they may be seed-
germs that will live and grow in that spiritual spring-
tide when death has passed away ; and we, in bodies
that have sprung, we know not how, from the graves
of those mortal bodies, shall join that white-robed
host, each like this beauteous being, in perpetual
youth, because we ever behold the Face of GOD,
and evermore live in Him.
0F
iJFir^t Suutias after faster.
MAGDALEN AT THE SEPULCHRE.
The story of Magdalen's visit to the sepulchre on
Easter morning is most picturesque and most touch-
ing. She who '^ loved much, because she had had
much forgiven," could not rest for thinking of her
Lord. Like a devout and faithful daughter of
Abraham, she ^' kept the Sabbath day, according to
the commandment," but ^'very early, while it was
yet dark," she was at the grave. The absorbing
devotion of a woman's heart to the object of her
love ; the passionate yearning of a soul towards the
Saviour Who had raised it from degradation to self-
respect, from ruin to purity, from despair to peace,
hope, and joy, these made her impatiently watch the
slowly passing hours of that sad Sabbath, and kept
her eyes wakeful all the livelong night. She is
terrified by the shock of the earthquake, but not
deterred from her purpose. As soon as she may
she creeps down the dark, silent street, craves of the
sleepy watchman permission to pass the gate, not
yet opened, and then she speeds along in the dark-
ness, under the calm canopy of stars, to the garden
where His loved body lay Who was all in all to her.
What did she feel ? What were her hopes ? Most
likely she was stunned and beaten down, past all
thought and reasoning by the awful sights of Friday,
by the overwhelming, crushing avalanche of horrors
that had swept away and buried deep all her soul's
tenderest, dearest emotions and aspirations. She had
x6o
Jfirst ^titttra^ aft^r O^aater. i6i
seen that loving, mighty One call from death and cor-
ruption her loved and lost brother. She had sat at
His feet and listened to His words, till she had passed
out of conscious connection with this life, and had
forgotten how time passed, and that daily bread was
wanted by others, if not by herself, *' living in phan-
tasy," her spirit soaring after her Lord's, up to the
unseen spirit-world, ''where beyond these voices
there is peace." Dimly and timidly she had con-
ceived the wondrous truth that this was He Who
should redeem Israel. Modestly, and without con-
fessing it, for fear of her superiors who denied it, she
acknowledged Him as MESSIAH, Whom her woman's
heart loved, and to Whom she ministered with ex-
quisite delight to herself, when He came as the guest
of that quiet home at Bethany. She had not argued,
but her woman's instinct had led her on to an un-
shaken conviction that this was the CHRIST. And
now, when reason seemed to say that she had placed
her hopes where they had been swallowed up, as by
an earthquake, when she could no longer try to per-
suade even herself that her hopes were true and well
founded, she shuts her eyes and goes on, led by blind
love, carried forward by the mighty impulse of that
past purpose of her life, that now seemed to be utterly
extinguished.
So she, who was last at the Cross, was first at the
Grave. It was too early for the embalming, and the
other friends of CHRIST had not come. Doubtless
she thought within herself that most likely the guard
would keep her away from the Tomb ; and even if
they did not, what could she do ? Why did she go
there? What was her purpose? She knew not;
she cared nothing for ''Why and wherefore?" for
" What is the use ? " and " WJiat afterwards ? " only
she was compelled to get near her LORD, be it only
His pale, mangled Body, hidden in the dark rock, out
of sight, out of reach.
i62 JFirat ^uitiray after (Baster.
Do not we know something of this ? Have not
some of us, who **have loved and lost," felt an impulse,
like that which drove Mary on irresistibly, to get near
to that which remained of the Being Whom she loved ?
There was darkness everywhere. Only in that
true, loving heart there was a small glimmering light,
fed by the good store of oil that had been laid in as
she sat at His feet, drank in His words, pondering
them in her heart, and gazing into His Face, Who
is the true Light. A woman's loving instinct; a
faithful soul's inspired trust in Him Who has saved
it, — these were her guides, these her reasons, her
arguments, as she stole along weeping under the
stars, through the dewy garden, towards thesepulchre.
Poor Mary ! Poor shrinking woman ! she is ready to
turn back many times, as she thinks of the coarse,
rude men whom the rulers have set there to guard
and watch the tomb ; but something drives her on ;
she has a double consciousness ; she has two minds ;
but the weaker feminine will is overborne, she knows
not how, by another and a far more powerful force
that will not be denied. She draws near, and her
poor heart beats audibly in the silence, as she peers
through the darkness to catch sight of the watchmen.
She sees no one. All is silent. She creeps a few
steps nearer ; still there is no one. Now she can see
the Tomb ; but there are no soldiers by it. Are they
hidden in the deep shadows of the moonlight ? Are
they asleep ? Then perhaps she may steal up close
and kiss the cold hard stone, just once. Yes, she
will. Softly she steps on, trembling, pale, looking
this way and that way for the sleeping watchmen.
There is evidently no one there. The place is de-
serted. She looks again. The grave is open ! The
closing-stone is thrown down ! [Oh, horror ! oh, cruel
malice of His enemies, that will not even let His
poor Body rest in peace ; that has robbed her even
of that sad consolation of ministering her last kind
JTirat ^un6a^ after (Baster. 163
offices to the dead ! One more scared look, to make
the hideous certainty sure, and she turns and flies
breathless to the city, to tell Peter and John the
strange, sad, terrible news. They listen with speech-
less amazement, and then hurry off to see for them-
selves. She follows, as best she can. The disciples
gaze, wonder, and go home again, bewildered. Mary
gazes, and stands alone, and blinds herself with a
passion of tears, as if she said —
" Gone are the last faint flashes,
Set is the sun of my years ;
And over a few poor ashes
I sit in my darkness and tears."
Oh, poor desolate heart ! Blow upon blow falls.
There seemed nothing more possible, and that the
lowest depth had been reached ; but a new agony
had now come from an unexpected direction. Where
is that dear Body now ? Who has taken it away ?
What fresh dishonour are they even now perpetrating
upon it ? Shall she never more touch it ? never
embrace it again, as she had over and over again
pictured to herself, consoling herself with this hope
in those long dark hours ?
But, she thinks, did not John say that the grave-
cloths were there, wrapped carefully by themselves,
and the face-cloth by itself? She stoops down to
see ; and lo ! within the rocky Tomb sit two bright
angels, and they say to her, " Woman, why weepest
thou ? " She is surprised at nothing. She has got
beyond that. She is not terrified ; she asks no ques-
tions ; she takes it all as a matter of course ; her one
thought is not disturbed, even by an apparition of
angels ; she only says, ^* They have taken away my
Lord, and I know not where they have laid Him."
Let us pause a moment, to learn something for
ourselves. There is an Easter marvel here for us,
and an Easter blessing. The place of worms and
164 yirat ^unira^ after faster.
corruption is now the place of angels ; ** He shall
give His angels charge over thee to keep thee in all
thy ways," even in the way through " the valley of
the shadow of death ; " we know now what these
words mean ; and those again, *' He keepeth all his
bones." They that '^ sleep in jESUS " shall have the
angels of jESUS with them. We need not fear the
grave, if there are angels there. As we look into the
resting-place of our loved ones, with tear-dewed eyes,
let us see angels there, and hear their gentle remon-
strance, '' Why weepest thou ? " That dear one has
indeed been taken away, but we do know where
they have laid him ; he is laid where angels sit and
watch. The baptized body of the Christian is sacred,
and worthy of the care of angels. He Whose eyes
"did see our substance, yet being imperfect, in Whose
book all our members were written, as day by day
they were fashioned," will not be unmindful of those
bodies that have been made the temples of the
Holy Ghost. The corn of wheat, sown in the
earth, may die, but the angel-reaper will gather in a
harvest at the Great Day, when the spiritual bodies,
sown in corruption, dishonour, weakness, are raised
in glory and power. Wherefore comfort one another,
this glad Easter-tide, with these words.
But there is another wonderful thought that lies
half hidden in this detail of Mary's Easter-day
experiences. These watching angels, had they but
just come when Mary discerned them ? Surely not.
Had they not been there all along ? When Joseph
and Nicodemus had lovingly laid the sacred Body in
the new tomb, they had been there, at head and foot.
When the priests' guard had sealed the stone, and all
the while they stood sentinel, the angels were there ;
and their presence filled the watchers with an un-
named terror, that so unmanned them, that when
the earthquake growled below and shook the rock
itself they could stand no more, but turned and fled
yirst ^utttran after faster. 165
in abject fright. When John looked in, and Peter
entered, they were there. All the time that Mary
sat crying and mourning, they were within a yard
or two of her. Doubtless the earth is haunted with
angels. They are about our path and about our
bed; but it needs special sight to see them. Scientific
powers will not discern them. Eyes that are greedy
after this world's sights are blinded when they should
see angels. There is colour-blindness; there are rays
of light too deep and too high for human intelligence
to know; so spiritual things are spiritually discerned.
Peter and John came and looked, and went away,
and saw no angels. Mary sat long, weeping till her
eyes were bleared and weakened to all ordinary
objects, but her whole soul was filled with longing
for her LORD, and so her eyes became fit to see
angels. So it has often happened that when death
has been near, and earthly things are almost shut out,
spiritual presences have been discernible by many
of God's children. So have those who have died to
the flesh and the world had their spiritual faculties
quickened, till they have lived more in the unseen
world than in that which is visible, and have held
intercourse with its inhabitants, who are never far
from any of us.
But Mary looks at the angels, without curiosity
and without surprise, hoping they may answer the
unasked question that occupies her whole soul ; and
as she looks, she sees their faces and their attitude
suddenly change. There is an expression of awe
and a gesture of reverence as they seem to look
at some one behind her. She turns to see who it is,
and she sees her LORD. But it is still dark, and her
weeping has dazed her eyes for things corporeal.
She does not recognise CHRIST. She can think of
no one but the gardener likely to be there at such
an hour ; and full of her one thought, she eagerly
asks whether he has borne away her LORD'S Body.
1 66 yirst ^utttiaj after (Easter.
She only says, '' Him," mentioning no name, though
she is speaking, as she thinks, to a stranger; for
those whose hearts are full of one thought imagine
that all are thinking as they are thinking.
Then there comes the great surprise. There have
been many sweet surprises of love in the world's
history ; but this was the sweetest, the most wonder-
ful. Joy has but few words ; love's words are few.
Her Lord speaks but one word; and she repHes
also with but one word. Yet what volumes were
contained in each of those two words, " jESUS said
unto her, Mary " ! He had spoken before^ but when
He uttered her name in the never-to-be-forgotten
tones, then in a moment the senses, that were almost
sealed up by grief, came back with a bound to their
normal state, and she was vividly conscious that her
Lord was there. The voice that had sounded, years
before, in her poor, sinful, demon-ridden soul, and
had chased away her tormentors, could never be mis-
taken. In a moment she is at His feet, her whole
soul going out to Him in that one cry, '^ Rabboni ! "
Amazement, delight, intense love, utter devotion, per-
fect peace, concentrated in one word, ^^ Master."
The beautiful narrative culminates here. It is brim-
ful of instruction. Oh that we could draw out and
drink deeply of this well of life ! Let us see if we
can learn some few lessons suitable for ourselves.
All through God'S revelation of Himself to man we
notice that, on momentous occasions. He calls His
own by name. At the beginning He left Adam to
give names to all the animals, but He Himself gave
him his name. After the Fall He called him by his
name, when, sin-stricken, he was hiding himself.
Abraham, Isaac, Israel, the channels of His grace
and providence, are specially named by GoD, and
repeatedly called by name by the voice of GoD.
When He would assure Moses of His special favour
and protection, He could say nothing more convinc-
ytrat ^uttira^ after (Bazttt, 167
ing than this, " I know thee by name." And in the
New Testament whole volumes of lore are wrapped
up in our LORD'S use of the names of His servants
— Peter, Lazarus, Zacchaeus, Thomas, down to Saul
on the Damascus road. And when all the good pur-
poses of God to man blossomed into maturity, in the
Church of CHRIST, that which had been the peculiar
privilege of a few leaders of men, a few saints, be-
came the common prerogative of every Christian child.
That which so many righteous men longed for, and
never had, is the common privilege of every one who,
in Holy Baptism, has been new named, new born,
adopted as the child of GOD. The Good Shepherd
calleth each of the sheep, and each of the lambs of
His flock, by name. No one is lost in the crowd of
mankind. Each one of us is known to our LORD by
name, as if there were no one else. St. Paul, speak-
ing of our knowledge of GOD, corrects himself, and
says that we are rather known of GOD.
That risen CHRIST calls us each by name to-day.
He has kept a place for each of us. Just as it was
that first Easter morning, so now it is dark, and we
cannot see CHRIST ; but we can hear His voice ; His
Word speaks to us ; His ministers. He says, speak
by Him, and He by them; ''Faith cometh by hear-
ing," not by seeing. Let us hear His voice, as Mary
heard it in the midst of her sorrow and perplexity,
in the dim darkness at the grave-side, away from the
world, while men slept ; and hearing, let our answer
be like hers, '' Rabboni " — " My Master." We are
thrice His — His by the right of Creation ; His be-
cause He is God ; and we are His creatures ; His
again because He bought us with a price. His own
priceless Blood ; His yet a third time, by our own
free choice of His service, at our Confirmation, re-
newed at each Communion, renewed after every fall,
when we have turned again, as from the grave of
sin, to the living CHRIST, called mercifully by Him,
1 68 ftv&t^nnha'Q &Utx (Baxter.
and we responding, with a cry like the poor lost
sheep whom the shepherd has found, strayed
wearied, wounded, half dead.
This mutual calling of the living CHRIST to the
dying soul goes on all through life, till a day comes
when the worn-out body lies panting out its last
sighs, and the spirit stands on the brink of the dark
unknown land, ready to go, forced to go, yet know-
ing not whither it goes, afraid in its utter loneliness.
Oh, then, how sweet to hear our name spoken; to hear,
out of the darkness, a Voice, never heard before, 3^et
seeming most familiar, compelling trust, making the
soul bound with love and hope, as it did that first
Easter-day in Mary's amazed breast; how restful
to cry '^ Master," and to plunge trustfully into the
shadowy world, knowing that we shall find ourselves
at His feet. Who lived and died for us, and Who
liveth for evermore !
THE GOOD SHEPHERD.
Mingled almost inextricably with our Lord's alle-
gorical description of Himself, in the words, ^' I am
the Door," is that other, *' I am the Good Shepherd."
The first thought that strikes us as we read the
tenth chapter of St. John is the confusion of ideas
that is presented to us. ''I am the Door of the sheep,"
He says ; *' by Me, if any man enter in, he shall be
saved." Then, " I am the the Good Shepherd ; I lay
down My Hfe for the sheep." Then, confounding
the similitudes, and introducing a third, ^' He that
entereth by the door is the Shepherd of the sheep ;
to him the porter openeth."
Now, there are two thoughts that will correct
these apparent contradictions. First, that no type or
symbol can be identical with that which it shadows
forth, that it must give but an imperfect representa-
tion, and that the resemblance must fail and break
down somewhere if it is pressed beyond what it can
bear. And then the remembrance of the complex
nature of our Lord's character, which makes Him
stand quite alone in the multipHcity of the aspects
under which He may be presented. His nature and
office are so many-sided that not one, but a variety
of symbols must be used to shadow forth, in any
degree of completeness, what He is in Himself, and
what He is to His people.
He is at once, then, the Door, the Porter, the
Shepherd, the Fold, the Sheep, the Lamb; just as
169
I70 ^cronb ^untra^ after (B aster.
He is at the same time Priest and Sacrifice, Saviour
and Judge, in earth and in heaven, perfect Man and
perfect God. It is the fact of the Incarnation that
gives rise to all these confusions, and it is the In-
carnation alone that can reconcile and explain them,
so far, at least, as they can be explained to human
faculties.
As regards the fitness of the occasion of this
allegory, it may have been that our LORD wished
to compare Himself with the rulers of the Jewish
Church. They were, by their office, called to be
shepherds of the people ; but they had just cast out
of the synagogue the poor man whose birth-bHnd-
ness our Lord had healed, and whose only fault was
that he had faith to know the chief Shepherd's voice,
and to follow Him when He called.
But be this as it may ; those who heard Him would
have no difficulty in fully understanding the force
and significance of the term of which He made use.
It was a distinct claim to be acknowledged as the
Christ of God. Their Scriptures were full of
prophecies of a Ruler Who should be truly the Shep-
herd of the people, truly the Good Shepherd. It
was a recognised title of MESSIAH. It is not neces-
sary to quote the redundant words of prophecy, from
Moses to David, and from David to Zechariah, nor to
enumerate typical forerunners of our LORD who were
themselves actually shepherds — Abel, Jacob, Joseph,
Moses, David, and the rest. Besides, this same idea,
this expectation of, and yearning desire for, a good
and faithful ruler of men and of the world, was not
confined to the Israelites. Everywhere men groaned
under the ills of life and the tyranny of wickedness,
and set up kings, and gave them honour and power,
in the hope that they would remedy the evils of the
world, and be the representatives of GoD upon earth
and true shepherds of men.
Homer's title for his king is this very word, " Shep-
^eranJr ^unba^ aft£r (Easter: 171
herd of the people." All who have read history will
know how bitterly mankind has had to repent of this
trust in princes ; how truly most of these crowned
shepherds have showed themselves to have been that
which our LORD calls them, ^' hirelings," who cared
for themselves, not for the flock; or 'Hhieves and
robbers;" nay, even ^'wolves," that tore and de-
voured the sheep.
But now the Good Shepherd comes. Yet not as
mankind imagined. He taught that the ruler should
be the servant of his people ; that, instead of thriving
on their misery, he should suffer to make them pros-
perous. No regal state, but poverty and lowliness
were His chosen lot. His crown was of thorns ;
His robe. His own Blood ; His priceless regalia.
His Wounds; His realm, the secret places of the
heart ; His sheep, those who were like Himself; His
triumph, laying down His life in shame and pain ;
His Throne, the Cross.
This had been foretold. Prophets tell it all, over
and over again; the lives of His typical ancestors
prefigured in action the same strange destiny of
trouble, shame, rejection, pain, and death. But the
keepers of these records were dull of heart; they
could not understand that which they guarded so
jealously and read so continually.
What wonder, then, that when He came, of Whom
Law and Prophets and Psalms told, they knew Him
not ? What wonder that, when He spoke these
significant words, they understood not the parable,
and some of them even said, '' He hath a devil, and
is mad ; why hear ye Him ? "
And is it not so still ? '' Despised, and rejected
of men." Alas ! these words are always true. Instead
of following the Good Shepherd, men stop to argue
about Him. As if the sheep were the Shepherd's
equals, and could understand Him and His great
thoughts and wonderful ways ; as if beauty were dis-
172 Seronb .^untra^r after faster.
covered by a process like chemical analysis, which can
but destroy the thing of beauty ; or as if we learned
to love and trust and follow men by something that
is most like a post-mortem examination ! Or they
wander off elsewhere, ^^ every man his own way."
But to whom, to what, will they go ? Where will
they find a better master? Where will they find
that which will satisfy their wants, if His pastures
are rejected ? Have not those, even, who have
deliberately set themselves to deny His pretensions,
yet come to the conclusion at last that He was the
greatest of men, the greatest who has ever come,
and that no greater is ever to be expected ? Do we
not see every day the miserable results of the service
of other masters ? Look into this poor world to-
day ; mark the miseries of men and women ; see the
degradation, the suffering, the cruelties, the weary dis-
appointment ; and then say what of all this does not
arise from the rejection of the Good Shepherd, and
from the following of thieves and robbers. What of all
this would not be made right at once if only men, rich
and poor, great and small, young and old, would but
return to the ''Shepherd and Bishop of their souls"?
Yet why talk of others ? Let each one look at
himself. Does not the Church put the right words
into our mouths when we are bidden to kneel down,
as soon as we come into church, and say, "We
have erred and strayed from Thy ways like lost
sheep " ? Is there not, so to say, not one lost sheep,
but a whole stupid, wandering flock in each of our
hearts ? And what good have we got by it ? Has
it not always been best with us when we have been
following the Good Shepherd ? Have not trouble
and sorrow and disappointment found us out when
we went our own way instead ? We thought His
way was hard, and so we shirked it ; but has not our
own way proved harder after all ? Oh ! truly does He
call Himself the '' Good " Shepherd. There is none
^crctttt ^utttra^ after (Bazttt, 173
good but He. On His Throne of Glory His good-
ness would not let Him rest ; love and pity brought
Him down, and made Him one of us.
Notice that He does not call Himself the '^ true "
Shepherd, as He calls Himself elsewhere *' the true
Bread," '' the true Vine," " the true Life," '' the true
Witness ; " but '' the Good " Shepherd. He is not
merely the duly appointed Shepherd of mankind, Who
is just, and does only right ; but He is Good, that is,
merciful, loving, self-sacrificing, not standing upon His
rights, but stooping to meet human infirmities, as the
shepherd is pitiful over the inferiority and the dumb
helplessness of the sheep; fulfilHng all that Isaiah
had foretold in that wonderful fifty-third chapter.
The Shepherd became Himself a Sheep ; one with
us, in nature, sympathy, heart ; a dumb, shorn, suffer-
ing Sheep ; a wounded, bleeding, dying, sacrificed
Lamb, taking away the sin of the world. And yet
— oh, blessed confusion of ideas ! — always the Good
Shepherd, leading, guiding, feeding, guarding, seek-
ing the lost, knowing and calling each by name, bear-
ing in His arms the weak, the young, the weary, the
wounded. Each one He knows and follows ever
with His sleepless eye. ^' To Him all hearts are open,
all desires known." Rulers of men, even the best-
intentioned, can but deal with masses; and so indi-
viduals suffer, and are not known, and cannot be
helped. But His attributes are infinite. He is the
Shepherd, the Good Shepherd ; but He is also ^' I
am," and so He is present in all times, in all places,
with all hearts. His care for others does not hinder
His caring for me at the same moment. His atten-
tion cannot be distracted. He is GOD as well as
Man. The last makes Him perfect in all sympathies ;
the first makes Him almighty, omnipresent. And
the sheep are His very own, bought with a great
price — Himself, His hfe. His death. And so when
but one wanders He cannot rest till He seeks it.
174 ^erontt ^untra^ aittx (Kaater.
and finds it, and bears it home rejoicing, though He
be wearied, and wounded with the thorns and briers,
which our sins have caused to grow.
What wonder that this character of the Saviour
gave the first idea to Christian art ? In the Cata-
combs, on walls, on lamps, on seals, the primitive
Christians loved to depict the Good Shepherd. Yet
how strangely He was at that time leading them. His
sheep, out into the very midst of the wolves ! But
was it not well ? He was but taking them by the
way of the Cross. They were but following Him,
and being made like Him. The shortest way to the
green pastures and living waters lay through those
rough places. The human owner of sheep keeps
them for his own profit ; their fleece and their flesh
bring him a good return for his labour ; but CHRIST
gains nothing from us. He gives His Hfe, Himself;
but He takes nothing from us, for we have nothing
to give Him. He does not shear or slay the sheep,
but He Himself is stripped and emptied for them,
and He lays down His life for them.
So there seems to be so much waste in His ways
with men. So there seem to be hard lots and mys-
terious providences; but He doeth all things well,
and His own will see it all some day. Wherever He
calls them. He has Himself been ; nay. He Himself
is, and they need fear no evil. He calls them, that
they may know His voice at the first resurrection,
when the sheep shall be divided from the goats. And
then, for evermore. He, the Shepherd, the Lamb,
*' shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living
fountains of waters," and GOD shall wipe away all
tears from their eyes.
But we must make an end. And oh, what poor
words have these been, to express the wonders and
depths of this revelation of our LORD, ^* I am the
Good Shepherd " ! Well did even the angel-souled
St. Bernard give up in despair the attempt to tell,
^W0tt5 ^unira^ aftsr (Easter. 175
even in his sweet verses, the praises of jESUS.
Well did He appeal to the silent testimony of the
loving hearts of His true disciples, His dumb, follow-
ing, listening sheep. For they only know Him ; and
they know Him, as He knows the Father, by that
knowledge which is rooted in mutual love, and
evidenced and built up by mutual sacrifice.
Efjirti Suntiag after (Smitx.
THE LOSS OF OPPORTUNITIES.
The little that is told us of our Lord's life on earth
makes us long very much to know more. Doubtless
the Christians of the first age knew much more than
we know. The apostles, the holy women, and others
would hand down to the next generation the wonder-
ful experiences they had had, the words they had
heard, the miracles they had witnessed ; and, as St.
Luke tells us, many wrote memoirs of these interest-
ing particulars. The inspired narratives of the four
Evangelists were from the first regarded with pre-
eminent reverence, as the only authentic record of
Christ's life, words, and deeds, and all other re-
miniscences, however valuable they may have been,
were lightly esteemed, in comparison with the divine
books of the Four. When persecution arose there
was a strict search made for all books and writings
of the Christians, and all that could be found were
relentlessly destroyed.
So it is, then, that we are left in tantalising
ignorance of that wonderful and mysterious period
between the Resurrection and the Ascension. For
forty days the risen CHRIST remained in the world,
apparently showing Himself only to His apostles and
immediate friends, giving instruction on the funda-
mental principles and essential practices of His
Church, which were, for the most part, handed on by
tradition, without being committed to writing. The
Apostles' Creed, the Baptism of Infants, the Liturgy
176
Clbtrtr ^nttira^ afUr (Baskr. 177
for the celebration of Holy Communion every Lord's
Day, the appointment of that day itself as the Chris-
tian's day of worship, the method of Ordination for the
perpetual continuance of His Ministry, — these seem
to have been some of the matters upon which our
Lord instructed His apostles during the great forty
days, besides an exposition of the prophecies of
Himself in the Old Testament Scriptures. He was,
as it were, weaning them from dependence upon His
personal guidance, fitting them to stand and act alone,
and to build up others in the faith, when they had
been strengthened and confirmed by the gift of the
Holy Ghost at Pentecost. He had told them before,
*' Me ye have not always." He had said that the
time would come when they would feel like orphans,
and would long to see one of the days when He had
been with them. They must have remembered His
words, and painfully felt their truth, during this
period which we are now commemorating in the
Church's year. They must have learned the value
of their Lord's presence, when it had been almost
entirely withdrawn. They must have regretted man3^
a lost opportunity, finding, as every one finds, that
opportunity missed never returns ; for —
" Who will not take, when once 'tis offered,
Shall never find it more."
Now, should we not, in accordance with the
Church's method, try and enter into the thoughts of
the period in which we find ourselves, and learn the
lesson that is at the moment specially set before us ?
Is it not true of us, as of CHRIST'S first disciples,
that He is not always with us ? Do not opportunities
come and go, and are they used or lost by each one
of us ? We have just passed through the seasons of
Lent, Passion-tide, and Easter. Have they not been
spiritual opportunities ? Has not CHRIST offered
Himself to us ? Has He not, as it were, gone in
M
Sljirir ^utttra^ after (Baater.
and out among us ? The Church has bidden us give
more time to religious thought, to communion with
our Lord, to preparation for death and judgment, and
for that Hfe beyond the grave, of which we know so
little, but which we must certainly experience, and
which may be upon us any day. And now those
seasons have gone — gone for ever. They have left
their mark upon us, and have borne good fruit that
will abide with us in our spiritual life for ever ; or
they have been lost, their opportunity wasted, and
some blessings, that might have been ours through
the good use of these days, have been missed, and can
now never be offered to us again.
We ought to think in this way. Many persons evi-
dently do not so think. They let Christian seasons
pass by unused. CHRIST comes into His House, and
meets the two or three who come ; and then He goes
away, and the rest care not. It is strange and sad
that so few seem to understand the Church's system ;
that so few feel inclined to learn more of CHRIST at
her feet ; that so few are drawn towards Him and His
House by love and choice. For here is the real cause
of neglect of Services and means of grace; it is
simply want of liking for them ; want of love for Him
to Whom they bring us near. It is not want of time.
People have time enough always for anything they
wish to do, or feel they ought to do. Indisposition
is made light of, when pleasure invites, but many
are ^' indisposed " to come to church in more senses
than one.
No doubt the miserable system with which Dissent
has familiarised us has its influence upon Church-
people. The modern sects have lost all idea of
worship; their idea of Christianity is listening to
sermons ; they think that the arousing of some sort
of religious sentiment on Sunday, some excitement
of feelings, some tacit assent to good expressions
and Christian experiences to which they listen, is
f^Irtrtr .^untra^r after (Easter. 179
all that is necessary. They have reduced religion
to a minimum, and thus manage to secure nearly
the whole of their time and thoughts and interest to
business, or pleasure, or idleness.
A system is always suspicious that has the indul-
gence of nature's weaknesses on its side. CHRIST
came to raise us above nature ; to give us a higher
rule of life ; to link us more closely to the spiritual
world. The Church's system exacts more of us than
the easier and merely human systems of those who
have dissented from her. The rule of the Church is
the rule of CHRIST; a lower rule cannot be safe.
In religion the new is wrong ; the old alone is right
and true. The Book of the Acts tells us how the
primitive believers constantly met together in prayer,
worship, and Holy Communion. The Epistles show
the same. The system of the Church has been the
same in every age and in all countries. Is it not
perilous to set aside all this uninterrupted practice,
that can be traced up to the time of those whom
ChrIwST taught with His own lips, and to prefer
to it the easy-going inventions of self-constituted
teachers in this degenerate age, who tell us practically
that Christ was wrong, that we need not "strive to
enter into the strait gate," nor " take up the Cross
daily," nor fear when we find ourselves upon the
"broad way," because there are so many walking
self-satisfied upon it.
An apostle warns us against those who try to per-
suade people to follow them by "promising them
liberty." We should be suspicious, then, of those
who claim to be more free than the Church and the
Bible, and who seem to have no rules to follow, no
obligations to consider ; whose religious duties make
no demand upon their time or their purse, and do
not in any way interfere with their convenience, their
comfort, or their pleasure.
If the " burden " of CHRIST is never felt, we may
i8o Eljtrtr ^untran after (Easter.
presume it has never been taken up. If the Cross
never stands in our way, and bars us from something
that mere human nature makes us desire, we have
reason to fear that we are strangers to it, and to
Him Who bore it, and bade us follow in His steps.
An apostle warns us against '' forsaking the assembly
of ourselves together." CHRIST promises to meet
us when we come to His House for common prayer.
If, like Thomas, we stay away, we miss Him and His
blessing of peace. If churches are shut from Sunday
to Sunday, the fault lies with the clergy; but if
churches are open daily, and means of grace and
spiritual aid are abundant, then those who have
the opportunity, and will not use it, must answer to
God, and give Him their reasons for making light of
that which others would gladly use, if they had the
offer. To whom much is given, of them will much be
required. We have but a short time to live, and we
have much to do in that time. It will not be long
before we shall be lying on our deathbed, with all our
life upon us, and the Tribunal looming up before us, at
which we shall be examined as to our use of GOD's
most precious gifts, life, health, knowledge, grace.
Oh, let us think sometimes, now, in our time of
health and strength, of leisure and opportunity^, of
that solemn hour that must surely come to each one
of us, when we are going out of this world to meet
our Judge ! Let us picture ourselves, as we have seen
others, lying on our dying-bed, with failing strength
and gasping breath, too weak to pray, without power
to think or speak ; and then let us consider how we
shall then look back upon prayers neglected. Com-
munions that might have been made and were not,
preparation for that time of sorest need, which might
have been so easily arranged, and was not. It is a
practice with many godly persons to have special
times for thought of and preparing for their last
hours; to anticipate that dread moment, and to
^Ij'txh .^uji^air after (Baster. i8i
intercede with their LORD, that, when they can no
longer call upon Him, He will remember the prayers
they uttered while they had the power to pray, and
that by His blessed angels, or by His own spiritual
presence. He will succour and help them then, when
no human aid can touch them, and they are power-
less even to help themselves.
When we set off on a long journey, we like to pre-
pare for it some time before ; for we know that the
commonest feehng at last is, that something has been
forgotten, something left behind, something left un-
done. Shall we not, then, resolve to offer every day
a special prayer for God's grace that we may be
ready when we are called to make that journey to
the unseen land, from which there is no return, and
for that moment when no mistakes or omissions or
forgetfulness can possibly be rectified ? Alas, what
spendthrifts of time there are ! How many have to
say, in bitter sorrow, —
" I wasted time, and now doth time waste me."
Our little life is so soon gone ; and yet we take
such small heed of days and moments, as if we had
unlimited store to draw upon : —
" But though we sleep, or wake, or roam, or ride,
Aye fleeth the time ; it will no man abide."
Nor is this all. It is not merely that time passes
quickly, but that each day, each hour, has its appointed
work and opportunity, and that missed, it can never
be recovered. Of how many may it be said, as it
was once said of a celebrated man, ^' He loses half-
an-hour every morning, and runs after it during the
rest of the day, without being able to overtake it " ?
When we hear the church-bell ; when the Holy
Communion is offered to us; when we may pray
quietly; when our hearts are warmed and stirred
within us, let us remember our LORD'S words, " Me
1 82 i;ij:rt» ^untTE^ after Chaster.
ye have not alway." When we feel He is with us,
let us keep Him, and secure some help, some blessing,
from Him. He has come to give us something we
need. The moment and its blessing will pass away
together, if we do not secure them then and there.
When Jerusalem knew not the day of her visitation,
Jesus wept over it ; but He did not give her another
day. When the foolish virgins wept and bewailed
their folly, the door was not opened. GOD is always
merciful, but our time of receiving His mercy is short,
and is soon past. It was only because the two dis-
ciples at Emmaus ^' constrained " Him that He tar-
ried with them. It was only because Jacob would
not let the Holy One go that He blessed him. It is
often '^now or never" in spiritual matters, as in tem-
poral concerns. The tide must be taken at its flood,
or all our Hfe is spoiled by quicksands : —
" Miss not the occasion. By the forelock take
That subtle power, the never-halting time,
Lest a mere moment's putting off should make
Mischance almost as heavy as a crime."
Do we ever think of this, that GOD, Who gives us
other gifts with such prodigal Hberality, dispenses
time to us moment by moment ? The last moment
is withdrawn before the present moment is given,
and we can never be certain of the third. The past
is gone ; the future may never be ours ; it is the pre-
sent only that is our own, and in that everything is
wrapped up. '' Now is the day of salvation." " Lost
wealth may be restored by industry; the wreck of
health may be regained by temperance; forgotten
knowledge maybe restored b}^ study ; ahenated friend-
ships may be smoothed into forgetfulness ; even for-
feited reputation may be won back by penitence and
virtue; but who ever looked upon his vanished hours,
recalled his slighted years, or effaced from heaven's
record the fearful blot of wasted time ? "
jFourtfi Suntiag after dSmitx.
THE MINISTRY OF THE HOLY GHOST CON-
VINCING OF SIN.
Christ died for the world ; but His personal ministry
was only for a short time, to a few persons, and over
a small area. The ministry of the HOLY GHOST is
to all persons, and through all ages till the end of the
world. Till He came at Pentecost the apostles re-
mained at Jerusalem with closed hps. When He
came upon them with power they began to speak and
to work ; they went forth to all nations, to preach
Christ, repentance, faith, salvation.
That work is going on now. That ministry of the
Holy Ghost is in our midst. Ordination is the
receiving of the HoLY GHOST for the work of the
ministry. The HOLY GHOST comes not to the world
as Christ came, as one sinless Man, but He comes
speaking by many tongues, and those the tongues of
sinful men. His message to the world is to convict
it of sin, to prove GOD holy and man sinful, to point
to the Saviour of sinners, and to bow hearts in loving
obedience to Him.
Great has been the company of the preachers;
great has been the harvest of souls. We shudder
sometimes at the sight of the world's rejection of
God ; let us rejoice sometimes at the thought of the
victories of the HOLY Ghost. They began with the
preaching of Peter, when three thousand souls were
gathered into the fold. They have never ceased.
They are going on still. Very varied indeed are the
outward circumstances, the experiences, the histories,
183
184 IFoutrtlj ^xtnbay after (BazUv,
of all those souls. Yet in one respect all are alike.
In each one the work of the HOLY GHOST has been
felt, convincing of sin. jESUS CHRIST came to save
*' sinners." It is the lost who are saved. All indeed
are sinners, but all are not ^* convinced of sin." The
Holy Ghost strives with all and with each, but some
harden their hearts against Him, and so their sin
remaineth. Oh, lamentable victory — to conquer the
loving Spirit of GOD, caUing the sinful soul to pardon
and salvation ! Oh, what loss is the only gain of such
labour ! It can be done, and it is done by many. A
sense of sin is instinctive, and yet that sense may be
thwarted, till it is crushed and stamped out.
This is what is meant, perhaps, by the heathen rising
up in the Judgment to condemn the civilised and
refined. All over the heathen world, whether ancient
or modern, there is the ordinance of sacrifice, the
offering of life, the shedding of blood, the universal
confession of conscience-stricken man that he is guilty
before GOD. All the strange ceremonies of expiation,
all the cruel inflictions of self-torture of devotees, all
these things are the instinctive acts of men whose
conscience tells them that GOD is holy, and that man
is sinful. These things are full of degrading super-
stition, and yet their foundation is a great truth.
The truth is perverted, but it is still true ; and GOD's
revelation, clearing away the accretions of man's
traditions, displays again the fundamental truths,
that God is holy, and that man is sinful.
The nineteenth century European smiles at all this,
and putting away with contemptuous impetuosity the
superstitions, he sweeps away with them the great
fundamental truth from which they grew. His pride
lifts him up ; his ignorance degrades GOD, and makes
him irreverent and familiar with GOD ; just as some
ill-bred upstart tries to be on equal terms with his
betters, and only succeeds in being impertinent and
ridiculous. Thus one says, *' What educated man
feels anything in his nature repugnant to or requiring
yanvtlj ^mitra^ after (Baater. 185
reconciliation with GOD ? " To this, then, the pride
of civilisation leads men ! We say, ''How clever we
are in this nineteenth century ! What discoveries
we make ! What wonderful progress ! How far
advanced in knowledge and skill, beyond our an-
cestors, beyond the poor ignorant heathen and bar-
barous people ! "
Well, be it so. But what then ? Does all this
alter our relation to the Great GOD ? Does it bring
us one step nearer to Him ? Does it help us to know
Him any better, or give us any rights of familiarity
or equality ? Say you can analyse the sun and weigh
the planets ; what has your discovery taught you but
the vastness of Creation, and your own littleness ?
Go out alone on some starry night, and in the silence
look up at the host of suns whose distance is so
enormous that no skill of yours can measure it ; pile
thought upon thought as to ages of time, millions of
miles of space, boundless variety, infinite number,
endless novelty, and what must be the end but the
conviction of your own insignificance ? Oh, poor little
thinking being! A creeping speck even upon this
world of ours ; and this little world itself so tiny, and
this our solar system itself so small, compared with
marvellous gigantic systems that GOD has given thee
the skill just to discover !
What is the next thought but this — What must
God be, Who made all this, Who holds it in His
hands, and orders and rules all and each, the infinite
whole and the tiniest item, down to the minute creature
that the microscope alone can show us ! Yet with
that Great GOD thou hast to do. He gave thee being ;
He gave thee reason and conscience ; He gave thee
a rule of right and wrong ; and He will call thee to
account for all. Yes ; and with all this He gave thee
a deep inner conviction of responsibility to GOD. Men
may strive against it, forget it, smother it up, hurry
it aside with present business or pleasure ; but it is
inextinguishable ; it clings to man, side by side with
1 86 yourtir ^unbaj aftsr (Bazttx,
life itself. Man must degrade himself to be less than
an animal, to be a mere thing, before he can persuade
himself that he is not responsible personally to a
personal GOD.
And with this sense of responsibility there comes
the sense of sin. The perfections of GoD force upon
us the conviction of our imperfections. The soul
looks upward, through the vast vista of created things
and beings to GOD, the Maker and LORD of all, and
it feels the irresistible attraction of that mighty power,
drawing it on alone, amidst countless spectators, to
the very presence of Him Who sits unseen in His
greatness and purity ; and it is covered with shrink-
ing, cowering shame, with deep, shuddering fear.
The sense of littleness is overwhelming, but the
sense of impurity overcomes even this; the awful
consciousness of sin, wrapping the soul round,
penetrating even to its centre, mingling itself inex-
tricably with its very essence and being.
It is not so much the remembrance of particular
sins; it is not necessarily the guilt of some great
sin ; but it is the sense of sinfulness, of uncleanness,
of unfitness by nature for the sight and presence of
God, Whose purity is so awful. It is the purity of
God that fills the hosts of heaven with wonder and
praise. When St. John saw the occupations of the
blessed, he tells us that the glorious spirits, who know
what God is so intimately by their vast powers and
by constant contemplation, select this attribute for
never-ceasing praise. It is not GoD's power, or His
greatness, or even His love, that they so incessantly
sing of, but His purity. '' Holy, Holy, Holy ; " this
ceases not day and night; it surrounds the Throne
of God eternally, like the light itself
It is this sense of God's holiness, and of man's sin,
that the ministry of the HoLY GHOST is designed to
intensify, to direct aright, and to set at rest, with
the soothing certainty of pardon. Over and above
the natural sense of sin, it teaches man what sin is
JFourtlr .^itnira^ after (B aster, 187
by a fuller knowledge of what GOD is, of what GOD
requires of us, and by the display of the perfect Man
Christ Jesus. It teaches the extreme sinfulness
of sin by holding up the Cross, and showing what it
cost to redeem the soul from sin. It guards us from
fanatical self-torture by showing us the perfect work
of Christ the Saviour ; it bids us confess our sin-
fulness, and come to the fountain of the Precious
Blood and wash and be clean and pardoned. It
shows us how sin may be overcome, and temptation
resisted, and the holy human life of CHRIST imitated,
and how the soul's rest and home may be attained
near its Maker and GOD.
But the first step in all this is the conviction of
sin. Nay, however high the soul may attain in the
way of holiness, this conviction must ever abide.
Even the highest saint's lifelong utterance is this,
" My sin is ever before me." Men are not divided
into saints and sinners, but into sinners who know
their sins, and sinners who are ignorant of them. All
are sinners in GOD's sight ; but some are sinners in
their own sight, and some are not. It is those who
confess their sins who are forgiven. All are sinners,
but some are pardoned sinners, and some are not
pardoned. An abiding sense of sin results in a con-
stant use of all means of grace, an unceasing turning
to Christ, a daily return to the fountain of the
Precious Blood, a continual crying, ''Wash me yet
more and more from mine iniquity, and cleanse me
from my sin." The thought is never really absent.
It underlies the claims of work ; it is there amidst
the hours of pleasure. The HOTY GHOST abides in
the hearts of the faithful, and keeps ever alive the
conviction of sin, and secures its pardon. The soul
wherein He dwells and works is open ever towards
God and heaven; communication never ceases;
prayer ascends; pardon and grace descend ever;
and when death comes, and the soul is free, it speeds
away by irresistible instinct upwards towards GOD.
JFiftfj Suntiag after (Eastrr.
WHAT ''THE WORLD" MEANS FOR US TO-DAY.
What a strange thing it was for our LORD to say,
*' I have overcome the world " ! What a strange
time to say it ! He was at the end of His hfe, and
His Hfe seemed nothing but a failure. He had lived
for thirty years in an obscure village, in a conquered
and despised province of the Roman Empire, a work-
ing-man, unknown to fame, never having been many
miles from home. Then for three years He had
been a Teacher. He had persuaded a few of His
fellow-working-men to join Him ; He attracted large
numbers of the common people at times ; but all the
educated, all the influential men of His country re-
jected His pretensions. Within an hour or two one
of His few followers was going to give Him up to
the authorities; and within twenty-four hours He
would die a shameful death, execrated by all. Yet,
knowing all things that should come upon Him, He
says, " I have overcome the world " !
"Overcome the world;" — that is just what His
nation wanted Him to do. They were chafing under
the iron heel of Rome; they were reading their
prophets' utterances ; they were impatiently looking
for their MESSIAH, Who was to fulfil the magnificent
destiny of Israel's seed, and make all kings bow before
Him, all nations do Him service. ''Overcome the
world ; " — what can the words mean ? We think of
Alexander the Great, of Caesar, of Attila, of Napoleon,
i88
Jiftl) .^tttiira^ after faster. 189
and a few more ; but there is not the smallest resem-
blance between the career of such men and that of
Christ. Mahomet and his successors went a long
way towards conquering the world, and the Moslem
teachers still maintain that the mighty work will yet
be accomplished by the expected Mahdi, sword in
hand. But CHRIST would have no sword drawn
for Him. Once He received the offer of the world's
sovereignty, and He refused it. Anti - Christian
writers tell us that He was deluded ; that, like many
enthusiasts, He was led away by phantasies; that
the event proved that He was but human, and had
made a mistake, like many would-be leaders of men
before and since.
But was this so ? Look on a little more than a
century. Great Rome is in alarm at the spread of
Christianity. Persecution has tried hard to stamp
it out, but it has spread and increased notwithstand-
ing. A Christian writer of that age says : *^ We are
but of yesterday ; but we are found everywhere ; in
the army, in the senate, in town and country, in the
capital, and in the far-off provinces where Rome
can hardly enforce her authority."
Look on again a century or two. The Roman
armies are marching beneath their standards as
before, but those standards are surmounted now by
the Cross ! The magnificent marble temples of the
gods still stand, but they are deserted, and Emperors
are dedicating churches to the worship of CHRIST.
Look on again a few more centuries. All over
Europe bells are knolling from ten thousand steeples ;
the civilised world is studded thickly with noble
cathedrals, stately abbeys, village churches, com-
munities of men or of women in lonely retreats day
and night praying and singing praises to CHRIST.
A cry goes up that the land where His feet walked
is desecrated by unbelievers, and forthwith men
leave home, kings cease to fight, and all the chivalry
1 90 yiftlr ^untran after faster.
of Europe streams away to rescue Bethlehem, Naza-:
reth, Jerusalem, from the enemies of CHRIST.
Nor is this all. CHRIST and His Cross are every-
where ; in court of justice His name is the most
binding force in the oath. Upon the King's crown
the Cross is wrought in jewels ; and high and low
sign themselves with the symbol, in church and at
home. The finest building in city and in hamlet is
a church. The greatest men of the land are bishops.
The religion of CHRIST is everywhere. The king-
doms of this world have become the kingdom of GoD
and of His Christ. He has ^'overcome the world."
But it will be said, *' All this has passed away. If
this was what CHRIST meant, He was mistaken after
all. The world has overcome Him now, and calls
those times the ^ Dark Ages ; ' and rejoices now in
liberty and fight, and promises itself yet more com-
plete enfranchisement from Christian trammels and
superstitions."
It may be so. There are prophetic words of His
that seem to imply the possibility of this. At one
time in His human life and personal ministry it
looked as if He were going to be accepted by the
little world of Abraham's race. Then they rejected
Him, and put Him to death; but the result was wider
dominion, higher honour, a better knowledge of His
glories, the adoration of millions of loving souls of
Him as their Saviour, their LORD, and their GOD.
What if all this be repeated on the wider, grander
field of the world at large ? If CHRIST has been
born now, not at Bethlehem, but in every city and
town and village in the civilised world, is it to be
that He shall be crucified, not at Jerusalem only, but
in ten thousand places, that once hailed Him King and
called Him Blessed ? If so, shall there not be also
a triumph after humiliation, a triumph proportionately
greater than that which Christendom once saw ? Is
there, then, yet a more magnificent fulfilment to come
yiftlr ^utttra^ after (faster.
of those words of His, ^'I have overcome the world"?
This world is, after all, but a grain of dust in the
universe ; does the CHRIST speak not of this world
only, but of the Cosmos, the boundless realm of His
created system, the countless centres of order and
beauty, of life perhaps, and thought and love, that
the heavens nightly declare to us, and which science
is explaining and revealing little by little, till we hold
our breath, amazed, bewildered, and dumb ?
But we are getting out of our depth. Let us re-
turn to something more practical. Our Lord tells
us that, as He was, so are we in the world. We too,
then, must say, as He said, '' I have overcome the
world." And His disciples have said it. Those who
followed Him learned how to do it. Look at St. Paul
at the end of his career ; how like his Master he ap-
pears !— a wonderful life; great success; great failure.
It is Christ over again. And, like CHRIST, the
Apostle, at the end of his mission, speaks great,
hopeful, triumphant words, and is sure of the
victor's crown. The world had done its worst, but
it had not crushed the Apostle; he too could say,
^' I have overcome the world."
Time would fail if we tried to speak of but examples
of those who, in every age since, have gone the same
way and have come to the same end. Take one —
Savonarola, noble reformer, brave, selfless Christian
man, like his LORD, seeming for a time to conquer,
and then borne down by the world, and done to death;
the world at its worst, so like the Jewish world that
hated and murdered CHRIST; a vile Pope, guilty of
every crime, yet clothed with power, doing damnable
deeds in the name of GOD; these set themselves
against the man, and they seemed to triumph. But
was it so ? That poor friar, mounting the gallows-
ladder, excommunicated by the Church which he
loved, howled at by the mob, ridiculed by fine ladies
and gentlemen, his ears hearing for their last earthly
192 .ytftlr ^uttiraj after (Easter.
sound the coarse gibes of the brutal executioner,
who made fun of him as he stood upon the ladder
with him, till people cried " Shame ! " Was that
man's heart vanquished ? His body was at the
mercy of injustice in power ; his plans were upset ;
but could the wicked world crush him ? Was
not the man all the while free, at rest, unbroken,
triumphant ? He knew he was right ; he held
firmly on his way to the last. The world had not
conquered him, though it had crushed him. No, it
was the other way ; he could say, " I have over-
come the world."
But let us come nearer home still. What is ^' the
world " ? It is man without GOD ; man against GOD.
It is human nature, best and worst, without the
supernatural. It is men and women of this or any
age, who own no higher law than their own wishes,
their own will ; who fear no master but human
authority ; who love themselves more than any other
being, seen or unseen.
The world has its maxims and unwritten rules
of conduct. These are some of them : ^* Failure is
deserving of contempt and punishment ; " '^ Poverty
is the greatest of crimes ; " '^ Being found out is
the greatest evil ; " " Wealth is the greatest good ;"
*' A man is a fool who does not get all the enjoy-
ment he can ; " " Public Opinion is the test of right
and wrong ; " '' Every man has his price ; " '* Those
who pretend to be better than their neighbours are
hypocrites ; " '' One must go with the tide, and do
as others do." And there are plenty more of a
similar kind.
Then there is what is called '' the way of the
world." See the world's favourite of the moment :
a general who has won a victory ; a claptrap orator
who promises the mob all kinds of good things,
who shows up abuses, and tries to prove every one
but himself to be a Har and a cheat; an actor;
JFiftlr ^utttra^ after faster. 193
a singer ; a dancer ; a preacher ; the inventor of a
medicine ; a newspaper writer. It matters not who
it is. Popular fancy lauds the individual to the
skies. But presently the tide turns. Some one
else has caught the fancy of the day, and the idol
of yesterday is flung into a dust-heap to-day.
Look at that man ; he is rich ; he got his money
by lucky speculation, or hard dealing, or what might
be called, if things had their plain, proper names,
dishonesty ; but the world does not mind ; and it
bows down and worships him and his money.
Take another, who has climbed up to high place.
Perhaps money did it ; perhaps flattery ; perhaps
some backstairs bargaining; perhaps some dirty
work that was useful to those who had power and
patronage. What matter ? The great man will be
fawned upon, flattered, belauded, simply because
he is what he is.
Look at what is called '^ the man of the world."
He is gracious and deferential to rank and wealth ;
overbearing and insolent to those in inferior posi-
tion ; he is selfish, self-indulgent, sensual ; he will
stoop to almost any meanness to gain his end ;
■ persevering, scheming, cringing, till he gets what
he wants ; and then he will turn round and ignore
his friend, especially if he asks for help in his turn.
He can suit his manners to his company ; be all
courtesy to this woman, and ruin that other, without
the smallest scruple. He does not believe in the
existence of a higher rule of life, and thinks himself
as good as the rest of the world, or better.
These are some of the characteristics of '^ The
World," as it is now, as it was in our LORD'S day,
as it always has been and will be. Of this our
Lord declared Himself the enemy. This, He said,
would be the enemy of His true servants to the
end. Do not we know by our own experience that
it is so ? Is there not something that keeps us
N
194 yiftlr ^uttira^ aft^r (Baater.
back from being consistent Christians; that drags
us down, and shames us out of our better thoughts,
and makes us afraid, and procrastinating in under-
taking improvement ; that drives away high and
generous and noble aspirations, and makes us follow
the fashion and custom of the moment, though we
despise ourselves for it ? It is not the motions
of our own heart, the impulses of our bodies,
which the Bible describes by the word " the flesh."
It is not some external impulse, coming into our
souls when no one is near, and which God's Word
attributes to the temptation of ^' the Devil " and his
spirits. We surely have by this time learned that
that third enemy of the soul, which our LORD calls
*' The World," is a reahty, and one that has often
faced us and lifted its armed hand and wounding
weapons against us.
And yet this saying of Christ's is to be ours also
— " I have overcome the world." Yes ; and thank
God, in spite of many failures and falls, can we not
say it ? Have we not many and many a time over-
come ''The World"? Have we not acted on principles
opposite to those which we have described ? Has
not ''The World" done its best and its worst,
and yet we have followed the rule of Christ, and
resisted and overcome the World's rule and the
World's practice ?
It is the smiles of the World that are more
dangerous than its frowns. When a man is down ;
when he is poor, or has been cheated, or passed
over unjustly ; when he is old and soured, and life
has lost most of its attractions for him, it is common
enough to hear the World abused and called by
opprobrious names. In the early Christian ages,
when the World meant the Roman Empire and
heathen civilisation, the line was sharply drawn,
and Christians could see plainly enough that the
World's ways and their ways diverged widel}^, and
yiftlr ^ttttirar after (Bastcr. 195
they could understand our LORD'S saying, that the
World's friends could not be His friends. But
things are changed now. All is changed, except
the words of CHRIST ; and they cannot change. It
is still, therefore, the Christian's duty to renounce
the World at his baptism, and to resist and over-
come the World all his life after to the very end.
The World's policy is to persuade us that it is
not our enemy, but our friend. It appeals to our
pride, our natural dishke of restraint and dictation,
our love of liberty, and all other natural impulses
of the flesh and the mind. It has a pleasant way
of telling us not to be '^ too strait-laced ; " to be
broad and tolerant ; to give and take ; to turn off
awkward dilemmas with a laugh. Are not some
of the most agreeable people we know thoroughly
worldly ? Is it not hard to stand against their
influence, and not to give up our principles and
drift away with the tide under their leading ?
In our Lord's da^^s the World went on its way,
following old tracks, scarcely recognising its own un-
written traditions ; but now the World has a litera-
ture, a standard and rule of conduct, a chronicle of
events, a means of commenting upon and censuring
and wounding those who diverge from its prescribed
principles. This is the Newspaper. The Newspaper
is the modern World's Bible and Prayer-Book, its
Catholic Church, its conscience-keeper. It is sup-
posed to lead, but it really follows and represents
public opinion. It is the World of the day written
down and described and depicted by itself One
may see the World's good side and its bad ; and it
is by no means all bad. The World is never alto-
gether bad. Men and women are not altogether
bad; and the World is made up of men and women.
The Christian man reads his newspaper like other
people, and is none the worse for it. He does not
accept all it says for truth ; he does not believe that
196 yHth ^nnb&v after (Bazizv,
the sayings of this obscure person, or that clever
pen-driver, are certainly to be accepted because they
get into print. He knows that a newspaper is just
like a shop, and that much of its stock-in-trade is
made to sell, and is not worth having. He has an
antidote to the poisonous trash that is palmed off as
wholesome food ; he has a standard by which to try
plausible statements and theories, for he holds daily
communings with Him who is the Truth, and His
Word is a lantern to his feet, and His Church is the
guide of his heart and his life. The Christian man
is not a misanthrope, a pessimist, a sour, self-satisfied
despiser of men and things. He can rejoice in the
beauty of nature, mountains and rivers, woodlands
and pasturage, and the twinkling sea. He can
stand, as at this wonderful Spring-tide, and see the
tree thrusting forth its ten thousand leaves, and
admire and wonder at the bright, green, beautiful
thing that is bursting out from the hard, dry wood ;
he can take up a hedgerow flower and read in it a
sermon about GOD ; he can look up at the blue sky,
with its white clouds saiHng upon it, and say, " Oh,
all ye works of the LORD, bless ye the LORD, praise
Him and magnify Him for ever ! " He knows that
the material world is full of beauty, and he has no
quarrel with it. He sits eager and unwearied at the
feet of science, and learns all he can of the daily
discovered wonders of created things, their order
and laws, their long-drawn history, more absorbing
and interesting than the most exciting romance.
He can love his country too, and is keenly alive to
her honour, her prosperity, her progress. He can
attend to his daily duties, as a citizen, as a toiler for
his bread ; he can be a good son, husband, father ;
he can admire men and women who differ from him ;
he can meet them brightly and frankly on common
ground; he can see good in every one; and it is
part of his principles to try and make good better,
yiftlr ^untraj after faster. 197
and to turn bad to good. The Catholic Christian is
not a narrow, sanctimonious, acid Puritan, frowning
down the bounding joyousness of youth, himself
unable to enjoy innocent pleasures and wholesome
recreation, and therefore denouncing every man and
woman who is not so unnatural and strait-laced
as himself. He is not a petty, ignorant sectarian,
who can see and care for nothing but his own little
paltry chapel, and the insignificant, upstart denomi-
nation that did not exist at all a few years ago.
His faith is as old as the world. It rests not upon
his own poor judgment, nor upon the opinion of this
man or that man. He takes CHRIST as his Teacher,
and Christ's Church as his guide, and he is quite
willing to be ignorant of many things, and to wait
for the clearing-up of doubts and difficulties which
cannot be solved here and now. So he keeps a
steady, straight-onward, upward course, through the
world's boisterous, changeful, distracting clamour,
like some great ship faring along through the rest-
less waves of the pathless ocean. He may be a
plain man, unknown to fame; no leader of men,
unrecorded in the annals of great events; but he is
lord of himself, and he keeps his heart for his liege
Lord above loyally, jealously. The kingdom of
God has come ; His will is done, in that Httle world.
There the LORD is King, be the people never so
unquiet. There has been war, but now the Prince
of Peace reigns, and He hath put all enemies under
His feet. The false principles of life, the shams,
the unrealities, the deceits, the miserable heart-
aching disappointments, the rebellion against nature,
against laws, against GOD, that flood and pervade
everything around him, surge and swell, and beat
upon him, like the billows that roar and batter upon
some cHflf that shelters behind it many a fair acre,
many a mile of fat land, many a peaceful village;
but they cannot move him ; they cannot break in ;
JFiftlj ^untra^ after (B aster.
his heart standeth fast and believeth in his GOD.
Not by sword, not by outward and famous victory,
but deep within, where the true manhood hes
enshrined, there the Christian man gains and main-
tains the conquest ; there, by God's grace and his
own strong will, by patience and spiritual aids, he
has met all oncomers, all enemies; there he has
vanquished them, the strong rebellions of the Flesh,
the secret temptations of the Devil; there too he
can say, '^ I have overcome the World."
Suntiag after Ascension,
THE GIFTS OF THE GLORIFIED MAN.
The Ascension of our LORD is the triumph of
Humanity. Great things have been said in praise
of man's power and dignity, but nothing that has
been imagined by non-Christian theorists comes
near the magnificent coronation of human nature by
the Hand of the Eternal Himself, which the Church
proclaims when she declares, " He ascended into
heaven, and sitteth on the right hand of GOD the
Father Almighty." It would not have been any-
thing wonderful that the Son of GOD should ascend
up where He was before ; but the marvel and the
glory is that the Man CHRIST JeSUS, one of us, a
man, with human body, mind, and spirit, should not
merely be admitted into the presence of JEHOVAH,
but that He should by Him be exalted and honoured,
and endowed with power and authority.
The first Adam was made God's vicegerent upon
earth. The second Adam has received ^^ all power
in earth and in heaven," All this is not for Himself,
but for us. As He became man for us, lived and
died for us, so He has ascended for us ; and the
gifts that He has now received are all for us. He
told Magdalen at the tomb to wait till He should
be ascended, and that then what her love desired
should be granted her. He bade the Apostles wait
at Jerusalem, and not begin their mission to the
199
200 ^jxtttra^ after ^ztznsion,
world till He had ascended, and had sent them
down gifts to fit them for their work.
Pentecost saw the first bestowal of His gifts —
knowledge, love, zeal, self-sacrifice, powers of lan-
guage, powers of healing, and much more. We
speak of these sometimes as if they were divine
gifts and powers. Is it not more likely that they
were but higher human gifts and powers, the gifts
of the glorified Humanity of CHRIST ? Do we not,
every now and then, see indications of the existence
of these powers in men, occult and mysterious
manifestations, that ordinary laws of nature do not
account for ? Can we not believe that in the per-
fect Man Christ Jesus all this, that feebly and
fitfully glimmers forth in some men, shone with
steady efiiilgence ? Mind and spirit evidently have
faculties far beyond those that are commonly exer-
cised. The flesh holds down and hampers the
spirit's movements ; sinfulness deadens spiritual life ;
our higher selves lie dormant, atrophied by the over-
mastering, stupid imbecility of the lower animal
nature. In CHRIST all the magnificent endowments
of man were found in their fullest perfection. They
were not the result of education, culture, training;
for He was but a Galilean peasant. They were in
Him by virtue of His pure, sinless Humanity ; and
there was nothing to hinder their exercise, except
the laws of matter and the restraints of the flesh.
Even under all this. His miracles showed what
He possessed ; though they seem to have cost Him
effort and loss ; for He was conscious when healing
virtue went out of Him, and the dead exhaustion
that we read of was probably the result of His
giving forth His power to help the failing powers
and faculties of weaker beings.
But when the mortal body was purified, and
raised to a higher existence; when His human
nature was exalted to its noblest possible condition,
^untra^ after ^srcitaion. 20 r
and could bear the full flood of its incoming en-
dowments, then indeed must He have been mighty
and wonderful. If in the days of His flesh He
could not only do wonders, but impart the gift to
others, what must have been His manifold and
boundless energy in the time of His exaltation to
the right hand of GOD ! What must be His ability
now to give gifts to men of goodwill, to men ready
to receive those gifts !
In point of fact, has not mankind received great
and wonderful gifts from its glorified LORU and
King ! It is the fashion of the day to speak of
civihsation and science and progress generally as
the result of man's unaided development, but is it
not more true, more reverent, more Christian, to
look upon all this as the gift of the ascended Son of
Man ? Do we not forget the innate difference be-
tween Christian civilisation and the highest civili-
sation that preceded it ? Look at the old-world
empires ; man's natural powers produced wonderful
results ; but if we set them side by side with what
has been attained since the Ascension, do we not
see a vast difference, both in kind and in degree ?
In kind ; for the principle of ancient civilisation was
the advancement of the State and the exaltation
of favoured individuals; the principle of Christian
civilisation has been and is more and more evidently
the good of the greater number, the care and welfare
of every individual of the community. In the old
world, the business of the Government was war;
now, with all our miserable shortcomings. Govern-
ments occupy themselves with social questions and
the amending of abuses. In degree ; for, great as
was the advancement of ancient man in knowledge,
in art, even in science, it was, after all, the same sort
of skill and unity that we see in mere animals — the
ants, for instance — while our inventions, our know-
ledge of the laws of the universe, our power to
^unttaw after '^ztznzion.
enslave the forces of nature for our benefit, are such
as the world never before saw, or even imagined.
We forget that all this is post-Christian. The
old world, with its attainments, was swept away and
utterly blotted out, and a new beginning was made
by Christian men ; the growth was gradual indeed,
the beginning was humble, but we must not forget
the difficulty and the importance of the first step.
The foundation of the vast and sumptuous building
may be rough, and must be hidden; but, after all,
everything rests upon it.
Christian missionaries went out into savage
Europe, and taught the wild men to worship GOD,
instead of worshipping and fearing the powers of
nature. They taught them also to sow corn, to
make nets, to build houses, to write, and, above
all, to think. Is it not reasonable to say that print-
ing and steam and scientific discovery are but the
natural developments of these rudimentary efforts ?
Slavery has been abolished ; education extended to
all ; the condition of woman and child has been
raised ; the equality of men has been vindicated ;
national animosities have been kept in check; the
weak, the sick, the helpless, have been cared for.
Are not these all the gifts of the ascended CHRIST
to man, given gradually, and in due order and suc-
cession, as men were fitted to receive them ; the
fulfiUing of man's original charter, renewed in the
second Adam, "Replenish the earth, and subdue it " ?
Our Lord submitted to the ills of human life.
He did not, with a word of divine power and
authority, put an end to them ; but He shows us
how, by the gifts which we have already as men,
we may reform the world, and do away with most,
perhaps all, of the miseries of humanity.
Do not men, in the present day, forget this ? Do
they not adopt Christian civilisation, and ignore its
origin ? Do they not praise and admire themselves,
^untraj after ^srcnsion. 203
as if they had done all this, while in truth it is all
the gift of God by His CHRIST ? '' Not a man in
Europe now," said one of the great thinkers of the
age, ^' who talks so bravely against the Church, but
owes it to the Church that he can talk at all."
Then there is the due sequel and consequence of
all this. The gifts of CHRIST are not to be hoarded,
but imparted to others. He received gifts, not for
Himself, but for men; we too must hand on what
we receive.
Like the widow's oil, these gifts still flow in, so
long as vessels are being filled with them. We are
but channels of God's bounty. We are stewards
of God's gifts. If only we made ourselves fit to
receive CHRIST'S manifold gifts, if only we entered
fully upon the glorious heritage that is ours in Him,
what a wonderful, beautiful, happy world we could
make it ! We have not, because we ask not ; be-
cause we do not believe that we can get greater
things than these ; because we go back to heathen
principles, instead of walking upon the higher way
that Christ has shown us. Every misery, every
disease, every evil that yet remains in the world, is
a proof that some law of GOD is broken, some gift
of God not received or not used. What we can
do should convince us of what more we might do.
As it is now, we make the lame to walk, the blind
to see, the dumb to speak ; we annihilate time and
space ; we rend the rocks, and examine the remotest
regions of the heavens ; we discover the secrets and
the laws of nature; we investigate the marvels of
earth and air and sea. What could we not do if,
instead of wasting time and money and talents upon
useless and pernicious things, we duly used God's
present gifts, and so made way for more gifts, higher
gifts, gifts that now seem impossible, miraculous ?
Lord Bacon said, even in his day, that man might
some day conquer even death itself. Our LORD
204 ^untra^ after ^srensiott.
did it ; and one of His gifts after His Ascension was
this power to His disciples.
But if these temporal and material gifts from the
Man Christ Jesus are so great, and might be yet
so much greater, let us not forget the spiritual gifts
from the Son of GOD, which also may be ours.
Here and there, all down the ages since Christ's
Ascension, there have been CHRIST-like men and
women, "saints" we call them, marvellously endowed
with graces, instances of the victory of spirit over
matter, of the soul over the body, of CHRIST over
sin and human frailty. They ought not to be so
rare. Such wonders might be common. We might
have been something like those holy ones, if we had
but made ourselves fit to receive and to use GOD'S
gifts, and by them, in due succession, to have gone
on to perfection.
Alas ! it is too late for most of us now. We shall
at best have but lowly places in the kingdom of our
ascended LORD.
But let us at least, now while we may, and as far
as we may, use and improve the gifts we have — life,
influence, time, money, talents, all else that is ours ;
so shall we be happier ourselves, and make some
others a httle happier, a little better.
HOW GOD tS A CONSUMING FIRE,
"Our God is a consuming fire." Twice these
words occur in the Bible ; once in the Old Testa-
ment, and once in the New Testament. What do
they mean ? Were the old heathen nations right
after all, for they worshipped fire as the symbol of
God? Almost all over the world, and in every
age, men have turned to the Sun, the great fire, the
great source of light and heat to the world, and have
adored it as GoD. Were they near a great truth
all the time? Yes, surely they were. Almost all
errors have some truth in them ; many are but the
perversion of a truth ; some are only a wrong super-
structure upon a true foundation. False religions \
would not last and flourish as they do if there were ;
not a large element of truth in them.
Turn over the pages of the Bible, and see how
often God uses fire as the symbol of His presence,
or the type of His attributes, or the emblem of His
working. The Burning Bush; the blazing Sinai;
the Pillar of Fire brooding ever over the Tabernacle ;
the sacrifices burnt upon the altar; the visions of
Isaiah, of Daniel, of Ezekiel ; the words of Psalms
and prophets; the Old Testament is full of such
records. And what does the Church tell us to-day ?
It is Pentecost, the anniversary of the giving of the
Law at Sinai, when the mountain burned with fire.
But that is passed away; the Epistle to the Hebrews
2o6 Mljttautt-gan.
tells us that we Christians have little or nothing to
do with this Mount Sinai, with its fires and thunder-
ings ; and yet the Apostle says immediately, ^* Our
God is a consuming fire ; " and the Church records
for us the new Pentecost, and that too, we see, is
a day of fire. GOD is near again ; GOD manifests
Himself; and again, as at the first Pentecost, He
manifests Himself by fire — fire searching out each
of the faithful, a separate flame lighting upon each
head.
These words, then, stand almost as a motto for
Whitsuntide, " Our GOD is a consuming fire ; ■' but
still we ask, What do they mean ? ^^ A consuming
fire " ! Our first thought is of that destruction.
Fire is the great destroyer. What can resist it ?
A good friend, as it is said, in its governed state,
but a terrible enemy when it is master. Does this
in any sense apply to GOD ? Alas ! yes. Many
times we read of the fire of GoD breaking out to
work vengeance and to destroy. It is terrible to
read, yet there the sacred page stands. Sodom and
the cities of the plain, Korah and his company,
Elijah's enemies, and many more. And the New
Testament has worse still to tell us. There is the
rich man tormented in the flame, and there are those
dreadful haunting words of our Lord, repeated
over and over again, of '' the fire that is not quench-
able," and that revelation of everlasting fire into
which the cursed rush at the Great Judgment Day,
compelled by the sentence of GOD, and by their own
terror and haste to escape from His awful presence.
But fire has other attributes besides that of de-
struction. It has the very opposite power, the
power of giving and sustaining fife. The Sun's
fires are the source of all the life that is in the world.
The very food that we eat burns within us, and so
warms us while it nourishes us ; and are we not
told of God that ^' In Him we live, and move, and
titlritjaun-ga^. 207
have our being " ? He made us ; He sustains us
every moment ; and our LORD says that we must
eat Him as Bread, that we may live by Him.
There are two other uses of this symbol. We
speak of ^' fiery zeal;" of the "fire of love;" of
*' burning hate; " of being '^ consumed by a passion ; "
and so on. And can we forget how our LORD said
that His " zeal consumed Him " ? Can there be
greater love than His, that '^ many waters could not
quench " ? And what does this day tell us ? It tells
us of men who had been weak and cold and timid,
baptized as on this day with the fire of GOD, and
forthwith becoming bold and firm and dauntless,
burning with zeal and love, kindling the same
warmth in others ; like their LORD and Master,
as flame is like flame.
We are beginning to see the meaning of those
words, ^' Our GOD is a consuming fire." We are
beginning to see their fitness for Whitsun-Day.
'* Our God is a consuming fire." What said our
Lord Himself? " I am come to send fire upon the
earth, and what will I, if it be already kindled ?"
With this God we have to do. We cannot escape
Him ; and He is a *' consuming fire." What then ?
What is He to us ? what are w^e to Him ? We
dread fire and shrink from it, as something that
will hurt us ; do we so regard GOD ? Is our first
and natural thought to keep out of God's way, to
be afraid of Him, to dread getting too near to Him,
and having too much of Him ? It is the first
thought, the deep, earnest, passionate, fixed pur-
pose of many. Is it ours ? The end of those who
so regard GOD is to be taken at their word. They
say all their fife long to GoD, " Depart from me ; "
and at last, when He has tried to reconcile them to
Himself, and they have still refused, and when now
their time of probation has passed away, and there
is no hope, then sadly and reluctantly He acquiesces
2o8 Htljitautt-gaf.
in their wish, and He too says, " Depart ; " and
they rush away headlong to that place where GOD
is least present, where He is present only as a
*^ consuming fire."
Oh, most awful thought ! Oh, more awful reality !
And then there is another tremendous fact. This
lies in our way — the way of each one of us.
From this there needs labour to escape. To this
the world was doomed by its sin. We feel, each
of us, the possible foretaste of this in ourselves.
The desire to escape from GoD, this is the sure sign
that we are not yet quite saved from that inevitable
end of such instincts. Do we feel that instinct ?
Do we act upon it, silently, unconsciously, habitu-
ally ? Then let us be afraid; let us make haste
to escape ; let us seek conversion with real earnest-
ness, and passion.
There is but one alternative for us all, to dwell
for ever with GOD, or away from GOD. What is
our choice ? What are we doing now ? Our choice
is made in our daily Hfe. Look at it — the whole
course of the past — last week — to-day. Have we
lived with GoD ? Do we think of GOD constantly,
live with Him, act as in His presence, desire to
be closer to Him, to see Him, know Him, possess
Him?
But it will be said, '* GOD is so holy, so mysterious,
so awful ; I fear Him ; I shrink from Him ; my nature
teaches me, compels me, to do so. He is a * con-
suming fire,' and ^Can a man take fire into his
bosom, and not be burned ? ' * Who among us
can dwell with devouring fire ; who among us can
dwell with everlasting burnings ? ' " To-day's com-
memoration gives the answer. Pentecost is a day
of fire ; yet the fire rests upon the heads of those
in the upper room, and harms them not. Pentecost
is the day when GoD descended to dwell with man
and in man ; not to terrify, to burn, to destroy, but to
Mljttsutt-ga^. 209
give life and joy, and power, and sweetest comfort,
and blessing.
There were anticipations of this. There was the
*' Bush that burned with fire, and was not con-
sumed ; " there were the Three Children in the midst
of the fiery furnace, yet not harmed ; there was
Elijah's chariot of fire, that bore him safe and joyful
from his life of toil to his rest and reward. There
may be fire, then, without destruction, without pain
and burning, with safety, with aid and blessing, and
gifts supernatural.
Yes ; not only may there be all this, but there
must be all this to every soul that would reaHse its
Christian calling. Every Christian soul must have
its Pentecost. The HoLY GHOST dwells in each soul
that is not reprobate. Our baptism gives us the
first spark of His presence. Water and fire are
the two great powers to cleanse and purify, or to
destroy. The world was cleansed by a baptism of
water at the Flood; it awaits its second and last
cleansing by a baptism of fire, at the Great Da}^
We too have been cleansed by water ; we must
be purified also by fire. Our LORD said that His
baptism was '' with the HOLY GliOST and with fire."
Fire, once kindled, spreads and grows, and searches
here and there for fuel to consume ; and our GOD is
a '* consuming fire." He is in us, unless we be re-
probate. Do we feel Him, Uving, growing, burning,
consuming within us, spreading to others ? Oh, dead,
cold hearts! Some know nothing of this. The fire is
almost quenched ; it is smothered ; it is smouldering
away, and will soon be quite extinct. Fire goes out
when the air is foul and close, and the Spirit of GOD
will not dwell in a heart that is given up to sin,
that is shut close up against GOD and light. Fire
goes out where there is no fuel, and our baptismal
grace must be nurtured and fostered, or it will perish,
and leave us dead, and passing on to corruption.
O
2IO «^xtaun-ga^.
'^ Our God is a consuming fire." Do we under-
stand it now ? The fire is the Pentecostal fire, warm,
bright, gentle, yet most powerful, most sweetly
working. The fire is a " consuming fire ; " consum-
ing away slowly, yet surely, the unworthy things
that have no right to dwell within us ; selfish, worldty,
sinful lusts, habits, infirmities, inheritances of woe
and evil from parents and far-off ancestors; fire
that pushes itself into natural quahties and talents,
and fills them with supernatural fife and power, just
as fire lights up all that it takes hold of; fire that
makes all things turn to God'S glory, just as flame
ever strains upward; fire that transforms us into
the image of CHRIST on Tabor, bright and glister-
ing, unearthly, glorious.
Such is the Pentecostal Life of the Christian soul.
This is the fire that our LORD promised. Long
before He came it was foretold that His coming
should be '' with burning and fuel of fire." For this
we are taught to pray to-day : —
" Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire,
And lighten with celestial fire."
To all the baptized it has been given. In many,
alas ! it is but Hke the '' smoking flax." But it is
watched by GOD. He does not despise it ; He will
not quench it. And if we will. He will revive it and
strengthen it, as He has done with so many before
us. This fire we must watch and keep up with
more care and anxiety than those old-world priests
and virgins kept in their temples a never-extin-
guished, always-living fire, under pain of death.
They knew not what they did ; but we see in those
dark rites a clear parable, a feehng after truth ; and
that truth we have — " GoD a consuming fire ; " GoD
with us, and in us; '^our body the temple of the
Holy Ghost."
HE A VEN,
On Ascension Day, "A door was opened in Heaven,''
to admit the Man CHRIST JesUS, returning in
triumph to sit upon the Throne of GoD. On Whit-
sun-Day, " A door was opened in Heaven," that the
Holy Ghost might come forth to dwell upon earth
in the Catholic Church, and in the hearts of the faith-
ful. And now, this Trinity Sunday, "A door is opened
in Heaven," that we may see something that is done
there, and remember that there is our Home ; that,
as Trinity Sunday is the last of the series of the festi-
vals, up to which they all lead, in which their teaching
all culminates, so Heaven is the end of the Christian
life, the result of all the means of grace.
The door is opened, and we eagerly press forward
to gaze. We long to know something of that other
world, as men are anxious to learn all they can of
the far-distant country where they are going to
live. But curiosity is bafQed. There is but little
to be seen. An open door does not show much,
especially if that which is within is large and com-
plicated. If earth is wide and vast, surely heaven
must be broad and far-reaching. If earth has many
climes, sea and land, mountain and plain, valleys and
hills, ten thousand varieties of beauty, endless fields
for discovery, interest, attention, can we doubt that
heaven exceeds all this infinitely ? If man is made
for earth, and the earth for man, is not heaven made
for man, and man for heaven ? Does not our LORD
212 Crittit^ ^utttra^.
say it is a '' place prepared for us ; " for us men, not
for other creatures, but for us, with our natures, our
faculties, our GOD-implanted gifts and aspirations ?
But how little are we shown or told of man's lot,
man's occupations there ! Through the open door,
to-day, we see little or nothing of that which will be
our place, our employment. There is shown us a
Throne ; but we cannot even discern Him Who sits
upon the Throne. There is but a dazzling appear-
ance like the glitter of gems and precious stones.
There are mysterious venerable beings adoring
round about the Throne. There are ''the seven
Spirits of God ; " we know not what that means.
There are yet other creatures of GOD, the descrip-
tion of whom, as far as it is given, does but baffle
our reason and show us that they are utterly unlike
anything w^e know ; some superior creation of GOD ;
some magnificent intelligences, infinitely above us.
They are brought close to GOD ; they see Him,
understand Him more than we lower creatures can
ever hope to understand Him, and their ceaseless
occupation seems to be worship; their joy is to
adore ; they bask in the presence of GOD, absorbing
His beauty, saturated with His wisdom, burning
with quenchless love, which feeds ever upon His
love, and leaves room for no other thought or desire.
But there is not a being like ourselves in all this.
This is heaven, but it is not heaven for us. This
region is not our future home. These glorious and
exalted creatures of GOD are not our companions.
They are far above us, and above even the highest
saints. Their occupation is not fit for us. It is the
same with much more that we are told of heaven ;
it relates to the angels, not to us. Indeed, if we
sum up what we know, we shall find it is very little
indeed ; much less than people commonly suppose.
There are many silly books that pretend to tell us
all about heaven ; but they are chiefly imagination,
f^rittxtf ^uttira^. S213
and very largely made up of ignorant mistakes. A
good deal is founded upon Milton's poetic fancies ;
and some upon Scripture, misunderstood and quite
wrongly applied.
All this does a great deal of harm. Thoughtful
men see that such a heaven as is vulgarly described
in many hymns and sermons and books is not the
sort of place they desire, and sceptics and scoffers
make fun of such an imagined destiny for man.
When Jesus was in the hands of the soldiers of
Pilate and Herod, they dressed Him up, and then
made fun of Him. Has not His Church been treated
in the same way ? Has not His truth been so dis-
guised and travestied and caricatured that grave men
have ridiculed it, or despised and utterly and scorn-
fully rejected it ? And has not many a seeker for
truth never discovered it, because it has been so
hidden b}^ some grotesque mask, or so huddled up
in masquerading trappings that serious people just
glance, smile, and pass on, seeing that there is
nothing there for them. Many an unbeliever in
Christianity has never known what Christianity is.
Many an indignant enemy of the Church does not
really hate the Church, but some pitiful caricature
of the Church, which has been palmed upon him by
stupid and clumsy people, or narrow and bigoted
fanatics. There are topics that we hardly like to
speak of, because they have been made nauseous or
contemptible by clap-trap preachers and the vagaries
of ignorant talkers. There are texts of Scripture
and phrases and expressions that we really cannot
use, because they have been vulgarised and per-
verted and distorted, and so handled by canting and
hypocritical Hps, that the old sense and meaning
has been altogether lost, and their associations have
made them positively loathsome to all devout minds.
A man lives an ordinary life, without a trace of
true religion about him; he dies, and his friends
214 Erittit^ ^untia^.
immediately talk about his having ^' gone to heaven " !
Gone to heaven ! Why, as Rowland Hill once said,
in his rough way, of such people, ^Mf they were
taken to heaven, they would be as out of place as a
boy in a flower-garden." Gone to heaven ! Per-
haps there will be nothing left of them, when they
die, to go to heaven. There is an insect called the
Ichneumon, that deposits its eggs in the body of a
caterpillar, which presently are hatched into grubs,
and begin at once to feed upon the embryo butterfly
within the caterpillar. They do not touch the bodily
frame of the caterpillar itself, so that to all appear-
ance it is w^hole and sound ; but when the life of the
caterpillar has come to an end, and its butterfly life
should begin, it is but an empty skin ! So it looks
as if some men had within them an enemy that eats
out all their spiritual life, and actually destroys their
souls, so that when they die they die like the beast ;
or, as the Oriental sages say, they actually turn into
beasts, and are born and live mere animals. That
is what devout men of the old Asiatic religions say
of such men, while ignorant friends here talk of
them as ^' gone to heaven " !
So we read in newspapers, written to gratify the
morbid curiosity of a debased class of mind, how
hardened and degraded murderers write unctuous
letters about ^'Jesus and glory." Epitaphs and
funeral-cards reek with similar stuff, so that the
simple child who had wandered for some time in a
cemetery might well ask its father, '' Where are all
the wicked people buried ? " Old Bunyan's '' Pilgrim's
Progress" is out of date now-a-days, and if we are
to believe the ranting, self-appointed preachers that
shout and scream, there is now some sort of railroad
to heaven, and neither time nor labour are required
to get there, and ^'working out our salvation with
fear and trembHng" is a thing of the past. We
have changed all that; and each new sect hawks
Crtttitf ^unJra^. 215
heaven about the streets at a cheaper rate than was
ever known before.
Alas that so it is ! We may despise the ignorance
of it ; we may smile at the utter folly of it ; we
may be indignant at the presumption of it; but
we may well weep at the harm that must come
of it, at the dishonour it brings upon Christ, at
the contempt it pours upon the Gospel, at the
blind delusion that it wraps round poor fooHsh
souls, who, when they ought to be weeping over
sin, and hiding themselves from all, that they may
be found of the Good Shepherd, are flaunting their
so-called conversion upon platforms, and alternat-
ing the hideous details of their past wickedness
with the " glory alleluias " of their imagined salva-
tion and safety, and of their certainty of ''going
to heaven." St. Paul counted not himself to have
apprehended. He feared lest, after all, he too might
be '' a castaway." But modern fanaticism has no
such fears, and is on easy terms with GOD, and
is quite familiar with heaven.
How different from all this is, and ever has been,
the attitude and teaching of the Catholic Church !
Nowhere in Creeds or Liturgies, or other authorised
declarations, is there any dogmatising respecting
heaven. The martyr's grave in the catacombs merely
bears his name, a sacred symbol, and the word
'' Peace." Other primitive resting-places of the
holy dead are inscribed with the wish for mutual
prayer; the dead and the living being still one in
Christ, still interceding the one for the other, just
as before death. All the departed are represented
as waiting for the Resurrection and the Great Judg-
ment, not yet perfected, not yet in heaven.
Where heaven is, what it is, what will be the
state and occupations of those who are admitted
there, the Church does not say. She repeats the
Apostle's words, '' Eye hath not seen, nor ear
Crittit^ ^untran.
heard, neither have entered into the heart of man,
the things that GOD hath prepared for them that
love Him ; " and the words of St. John himself,
who wrote this Book of Revelation, ^' It doth
not yet appear what we shall be ; " and the grave
words of a Greater than either, when men questioned
Him about the unseen, '' Strive to enter into the
narrow gate, for many shall seek to enter in, and
shall not be able." The Httle that is told us of that
other land is almost all negative ; what will not be
there, rather than a description of what heaven is ;
how it is unlike this life, rather than what it is like ;
no death, no sin, no tears, no separation — this we are
told ; and then much allegory and symbolism that
cannot be clearly understood, only it leaves an im-
pression like the delicious, inexplicable sense of satis-
faction that comes from hearing beautiful music ; hke
the scent of flowers in the air on a summer day, very
sweet, but undefined ; not to be described by words.
Why should we complain of this ? Have we ever
thought of the patient faith of the old-world saints,
Abraham, Moses, David, and the rest ? What did
they know of heaven ? Yet they were content.
They served GOD while they lived, and trusted Him
with their souls when they died. We know more
than they knew; can we not leave our Heavenly
Father unquestioned, when He says that He has
prepared a home for us. His children ? We know
more of our wonderful nature than they knew; can
we not see that our present condition may make it
impossible for us to understand what we shall be in
another and higher state of existence ? Think what
manhood is, as compared with childhood. Think
what sight adds to hearing, touch to sight, taste
to smell; may we not have other senses, nobler
faculties, at present in abeyance, that will be to
us more than all our present five senses together ?
There do seem to be such powers latent within us^
Crittity ^mitrau. 217
sometimes peeping timidly out, sometimes partially
exercised under peculiar circumstances. Everywhere
there has been upward progress. We may well
believe that we have not yet attained the highest
and best that is possible for us. Our intellects,
our affections, these are too intimately parts of
ourselves to be lost by death. Here we intensely
delight in beauty, in music, in love, in knowledge ;
here we are learning something new every day;
shall we not have all these joys in our higher
condition ? Here some of us are conscious of
talents that are never exercised, tastes and aspira-
tions that are never gratified. Povert}^, sickness,
adverse circumstances, have kept us down, and
made us other and lower than we know we
might have been. We are as children who die
before they can develop their gifts and powers ;
as savages who have no opportunity of advance-
ment; as imbeciles, whose bodily organs are un-
equal to be the instruments of noble mental and
spiritual faculties. Shall there not be a future for
us, where we may find a sphere suitable for us ?
Shall it not be with us as with all GOD's works,
that nothing is made in vain, nothing wasted ?
It has been well and wisely said, that one of the
deepest and sweetest experiences is to be intimately
associated with one higher and better than oneself,
who does not despise our inferiority, but loves to
teach us and make us happy. Must not this be
part of the joy of heaven ; to meet GOD's saints,
and know them and love them, and be familiar with
them, and be taught by them, and led upward, and
by their love to be taught to grow like them ? For
surely there will still be progress there, perfection
and progress together, without paradox; just as in the
orange-grove each tree has its ripe fruit, side by side
with fragrant silver flowers and still-forming buds.
Then there is the angelic host. Here they have
2i8 Crimt^ ^unira^.
ministered to us ; will not they meet us there as
familiar friends ? And what will they not have to
tell us ? When worlds were made, they were there.
Fancy, if you can, the marvels of science with which
any angel could delight our eager minds ! —
" We shall be free to wander evermore
In thought ; the spirit's motion o'er the wide
And wondrous universe, with messages
To beautiful beings who have never fallen,
And worlds that never heard the cry of sin."
And then there will be our LORD ; exalted, indeed,
above all things, but still a Man ; surely in some
way, at some times, accessible to each soul for
whom He died, whom He loves with a special love.
Who can imagine what this means ? Take the
Old Testament story of the Queen of Sheba com-
muning with Solomon of all that was in her heart,
and of her speechless, joyous, satisfied amazement
and delight at his wisdom, so far beyond all that
had been told her, and thence learn, as by a parable,
something of the devout soul's ecstasy when it can
see its Lord, hear Him, touch Him, see in His eyes
that He loves it.
There, too, there will be worship. This we read
clearly ; this reason demands ; this our hearts'
instincts long for. Will there be days and times
for worship ? Will there be glorious outbursts of
thanksgiving, music, spontaneous untaught harmo-
nies ? Will our great High Priest lead us, going
near, as we may not, to the Throne of the Eternal,
and offering for us and with us the outpourings of
unnumbered hearts, the love, the adoration, the self-
surrender, the yearnings that cannot be uttered of
the whole being of the creature to its Creator ?
'' 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."
JFirst Suntrag after Erinitg.
DISADVANTAGES,
We read in the Gospel to-day that " there was a
certain rich man."
The man was rich ; such was GOD'S dispensation,
Who ^^ordereth all things in heaven and earth."
His riches were his ruin ; was this too the will of
God ? Was the man inevitably elected and pre-
destined to perdition, as some would say ; or was he
fated so, as others would phrase it ?
We touch here upon one of the great problems
of human life, one of the deep heart-questions that
have always exercised thinking men, and that some-
times come home to us with painful force. This
man was probably born rich, and his riches worked
in him bad results. He lived a selfish, indulgent,
grovelling Hfe, a wasted Hfe, and when it was over,
his soul found itself a pauper, an undeveloped infant
in everything but innocency, a debtor, a criminal in
the presence of its Maker and Lord, Whom it had
ignored, and Whose rights and claims it had out-
raged.
And must we not be sure that there are many
such still, whose riches are ruining them ? There
is in them no true manHness, no progress, no high
purpose ; they do no good, either to themselves
or to any other, year after year, all their life long.
They have talents, good purpose, worthy plans and
aims, sometimes, but there is no necessity for exer-
219
2 20 yirat .^uniJag after fenit^.
tioD; and present ease pulls them back into inaction
when they would rise to work and duty. All is
made pleasant for them ; men wait upon them, fawn
upon them, flatter them, worship them. But, oh,
what poor things they are ; what starveling souls ;
what mean, miserable, crippled, idiot souls, with
here and there some monstrous growth and hideous
development ! Go to workhouse and madhouse and
hospital ; go to savage lands, and see the poor,
degraded men that grovel there, and you see the
bodily resemblance of the souls of men and women
who have had the misfortune to be rich, and who
have misused their riches, as did this man in the
parable. Death comes, and strips off the pampered
body, and bares the wretched, prisoned, forgotten
soul, that shivers and limps into light, imbecile,
contemptible, horrible.
Or take another case ; a man is born with a moral
deformity, a vile temper, overmastering indolence,
a tendency to drink or theft. Such things are ; just
as there are deformed bodies, and some are born
bUnd, or deaf and dumb, or diseased. Some, too,
have evil surroundings, bad example, hard lots,
deep poverty, or other disadvantage. Others have
great talents, and misuse them to their own injury,
and that of others — beauty, wit, power to rule men,
artistic skill, long life, scientific specialty, and all
the other gifts that make men or women different
from the common throng ; a Napoleon, a Solomon, a
Cleopatra, a Helen ; and all the thousand more that
play similar parts, but in smaller spheres, not world-
wide, but in some little circle, where they reign
supreme, and reign but to do harm.
Is God's providence cruel and unjust to all these
in making them so ? Are they responsible, having
been so made ? Could they have been otherwise
than they have shown themselves ? Are Mahomet
and Calvin right, with their fate and predestination ;
I^trst .^uttira^ aftijr ^tinitjr. 221
and modern materialists, with their blind laws and
inevitable cause and eflfect ?
The Christian man has but one answer to all
these questions. He believes in an infinite and
holy and most loving GOD. He holds Him just and
good, even when He cannot understand His ways.
There are residuary difficulties everywhere, which
he is content to leave unsolved, to pass by as no-
thoroughfares, without an outlet, and to go on his
way, resting his whole weight without fear upon
the eternal justice of the Creator, and looking up
with yet warmer trust into the Face of his Father
in heaven. Whose love has been so marvellously
and so often proved.
But there is yet another answer which has its due
place, and with some will have even greater weight
than this. It is the answer of experience and fact
and example. Turn over the pages of the records
of the past ; look out into the world to-day ; and
you shall see for yourselves that man's fate is not
inevitable; that man is free, and GoD is just and
merciful, and that disadvantages may be overcome,
and difficulties surmounted, and hindrances con-
verted into aids, and turned into good.
Was not that Abraham in whose bosom Lazarus
found rest a rich man in his human life ? His
riches did not ruin him. And have there not been
thousands since who have been born rich, or who
have grown rich, and yet have lived for GOD, and
made mammon itself their friend, and who now rest
in Paradise with faithful Abraham ? So with those
other qualities, good or bad, of which we have
spoken ; which of them is there that has not been
well used, while others have abused and prostituted
them, and wrung ruin only and misery out of them ?
You complain that you are hardly dealt with by
GOD» At the Great Day there shall stand beside
you, not one nor two, but a host, who, like you, had
this same lot as yours, and who turned it only to
good and high use, and found it nothing but blessing.
Physical and material difficulties, moral and intel-
lectual disadvantages, you shall see all alike over-
come by the patience, the unwearied energy, of men
and women, and the readily given grace of GOD.
This life is a term of probation, of education. As
at school and university we have hard problems to
solve, languages to learn, difficulties to exercise and
develop brain, and determine class and place and
honours and future life ; so is this whole life to us
a school and preparation for the eternal hfe to come.
'^ Difficult is it ? " says Carlyle ; '' difficult ? The
short-fibre cotton was difficult, useless, disobedient
as the thistle by the wayside; have we not con-
quered it, and made it into beautiful webs ? Ye
have shivered mountains asunder, made hard iron
phant to you as soft putty ; the sea-demon stretches
his back for a sleek highway for you, and on fire-
horses and wind-horses ye career; ye are sons
of the land of difficulties conquered. Difficult ! ye
must try the thing."
How many owe their success in life to the disad-
vantages that encompassed them in the beginning
of their career ! A struggle was necessary, and
this brought their faculties into play; just as we
confine and press down steam and explosive gases,
to develop and increase their power. Shall not the
old Greek fable teach us to put our own shoulder to
the wheel, when the thing has to be done ; or shall
not Holy Writ teach us a wise rashness, founded
upon past deliverances, and when all seems hopeless,
yet bid us ^' Go forward " ?
There was in the earliest Christian age a saint
who fled from the world and its temptations, and
who was bidden to go and see one holier and higher
than himself, and found him a poor working-man,
who lived in the midst of the world which the other
Jfirst ^utttraii after i^rtnitj. 22$
had fled from, and whose sanctity none knew but
God. There was a great singer who kept herself
from pride and the snares of her profession by each
morning offering the first-fruits of her marvellous
gift to the great Giver by singing His praises. Some
years ago, there might be seen an artist copying
pictures in Antwerp Cathedral. He had been born
without arms, but love of art and indomitable per-
severance had taught him to paint with his feet as
well as others do with their hands.
Have we not seen the wonders of chemistry?
Have we not seen a lump of ice made in a red-hot
crucible, water break out into fire, solids turn to
gases, and crystals formed from liquids ? If man
has this power over created things, has he not similar
power over himself and the circumstances that sur-
round him ? The Philosopher's Stone has not yet
been discovered ; but the Christian, by God's grace,
can turn all things to gold, and be rich indeed for
ever.
What we know not now, we shall know hereafter.
Ages ago, they tell us, vast tracts of country in this
earth were covered with forests ; trees and mosses
grew and matured and died; there was no eye of
man to see the luxuriant beauty of those glades;
generation after generation of tree and shrub arose
and grew and perished, and all seemed lost and
wasted. But the great LORD of all knew what He
would do, and we in these far-off days dig out the
coal, the mainspring of modern life, into which those
perished forests were transformed. Thousands of
acres of land, north of the smiling and fertile plains
of Italy, are covered with the rocks and glaciers of
the Alps. The utilitarian says, *'What waste of
valuable space ! But for these barren mountains
thousands might get a living upon that same expanse
of country." But the exigencies of modern civili-
sation have found a use for the Alps. The over-
2 24 yirst ^utttra^ after frtnit^r.
worked brain renews its life while weary men
breathe the fresh air of those snowy heights, and
the far-seeing providence of GOD is vindicated, and
He is seen not to have made a mistake.
The oyster feels an unwelcome growth beneath
its shell, and is inconvenienced by what is to it but
a disease; but man finds it, and prizes it for its
beauty, and calls it a pearl. So in the Great Day
shall many that are last be first, and the infirmities
of the flesh shall be found to have been to them price-
less jewels ; and the heavy blows that have fallen upon
them shall be seen to have been but the strokes of
the great Sculptor's chisel that have knocked away
the rough stone, and released the beauteous prisoned
figure, the man after the image of GOD.
cSecouD .Suutiag after Srtnitg*
THE EVILS OF PEACE,
We almost give a sigh of relief as we read at the
end of the Lesson to-day, '' The land had rest forty
years." We have been reading of the horrors of
war, of invasion, of suffering in all shapes, of blood
and slaughter and savagery. " Welcome Peace, with
plenty crowned." Oh, how welcome must it have
been to a nation that had suffered as Israel had
suffered from the repeated invasions of the Midian-
ites, of Sisera's hosts, and other enemies ! What rest
to lie down to sleep without fear of midnight surprise
and murder ! What rest to rise in the morning with
no thought of impending battle, with no dread for
husband or son ! We, in favoured England, know
nothing, thank God ! of war at home. But war at
a distance is bad enough. The wounds are still
green and aching that hearts have received at home
while war has raged and slain and mutilated in
other countries. Yes, war is very dreadful, look at
it as we may; wasteful of man's best, destructive
of all precious things, bringing in its train every
misery, calling out every evil passion and power
of man's nature, and making men like devils. Who
would not pray for peace ? Who will not praise
peace and deprecate war ?
And yet, in this, as in all other matters, there is
something to be said on the other side. We may
speak truly of the horrors of war, but there is also
225 p
226 ^^roittr ^utttra^ after ^rimt^.
much to be said of the evils of peace. War is
awful, and yet it has its good side. It is painful,
yet often wholesome; mighty for evil, yet mighty
also for good.
See what to-day's Lessons tell us; see what
war brought about. Look at Gideon's chivalrous
courage and daring. Who can but admire Barak
and his small army jeopardising their lives for their
country's liberty, sacrificing themselves for their
nation's honour, and the safety of their homes, and
the honour of GOD ? Nay, danger and extremity
make the weak strong. A woman is prophetess
and judge, and Deborah leads Israel to victory and
glory. Then the land had rest and peace for forty
years, and what is the immediate result ? The first
verse of the next chapter tells us, ^'The children of
Israel did evil in the sight of the LORD." This was
the fruit of peace. Rest and plenty bred vices, just
as stagnant pools breed creeping things and noisome
exhalations and fevers and pestilence.
Nor is this the only instance which the Book
gives us for our learning and our warning. David
was a man of war from youth to age, and his people
were simple and brave and pure and united, and
God was feared and worshipped. David died, and
Solomon reigned — reigned in profound peace for
forty years, and Israel was rich, powerful, and
prosperous. But Solomon became a voluptuary and
a sceptic. The sensual rites of idolatry were intro-
duced; the people lost faith in GOD and in their
king; and the foundations of schism and rebellion
were laid, to spring up and be established in the
next reign, and never to be extinguished.
And what the Bible teaches, that also all history
teaches. The times of a country's greatness have
always been the times of war. Look, for example,
at the reign of Elizabeth, when England had to fight
at a disadvantage for her very existence ; yet what
^trotttr ^uittra^ after Cnnit^. 227
greatness did she display; what noble minds did
she produce, whose wonderful works will never die,
never cease to be held precious and glorious ! The
same thing happened again at the beginning of this
century, when England had to fight single-handed
against almost every country of Europe. Other
countries display the same phenomenon. Well
might Alexander weep because there were no more
nations to conquer. Well might he wish for another
world to subdue to his might, for he knew well that
with rest and idleness come degeneracy and luxury,
and all the meaner vices of human nature.
And that which is true of nations is true also of
individuals. How often is success due to energy j
developed by the pressure of adverse circumstances ! !
How often is genius wasted and lost because a man's
lot is too easy ! Look at Gideon, armed, leading
Israel to victory and liberty, with high purpose and
steadfast faith in GOD ; and then see him afterwards
degenerating in time of peace to a miserable idolater.
Look at David, with his mighty men, each rivalling
the other in noble deeds of daring ; in all his dangers
looking up straight to GOD, always pure, always
brave, always honourable. And then see the con-
trast, when peace reigned, and he rises from his bed
and sits in the voluptuous Eastern evening gazing
dreamily upon his city, till evil desire kindles in his
heart, and lust and cruelty and treachery and murder
reign and rule without check. Nor does he stand
alone. Profane history points to Antony, and many
more; and poets, like our own Spencer, sing of
knights, once brave and pure, who have in time of
peace put off with their harness all that made them
noble, all that made them men, till they have sunk
down into sensual rest and indulgence and shameful
sloth.
Yes, there is something to be said, after all, for
war, and something to be said against peace. In a
^erotttr ^uittra^ after Wxinitjr.
world like ours, where evil is so mixed up with
good, it seems as if unmixed good were impossible,
and that, in the manifold providence of GOD, evil is
one of the ingredients that His cunning hand and
mighty power and far-seeing eye mingle up to work
out by subtle alchemy the great designs of His will.
Just as in nature storms and earthquakes are terrible
and destructive, and yet they are instruments, not
blindly wasting, but doing needful work that must
be thus rudely done, or there will be more destruc-
tive stagnation and more fatal decay from rest and
repose; so it seems that, in the affairs of man, war
is one of the wholesome, though bitter, remedies for
that downward tendency to corruption that breeds
itself spontaneously in men singly and in nations.
'* The army," says Mr. Ruskin, ^' is the salvation of
myriads. The men who, under other circumstances,
would have sunk into lethargy or dissipation, are
redeemed into noble life by a service which at once
summons and directs their energies. Both peace
and war are noble or ignoble according to their kind
and occasion. But peace may be sought in tAvo
ways. You may either win your peace or buy it ;
win it by resistance to evil, buy it by compromise
with evil. You may buy your peace with silenced
consciences ; you may buy it with broken vov/s ;
buy it with lying words; buy it with base con-
nivances ; buy it with the blood of the slain, and the
cry of the captive, and the silence of lost souls over
hemispheres of the earth, while you sit smiling at
your serene hearths, lisping comfortable prayers,
and muttering continually to yourselves ' Peace,
peace,' when there is no peace, but only captivity
and death for you, as well as for those you leave
unsaved, and yours darker than theirs. No nation
ever yet enjoyed a protracted and triumphant peace
without receiving into its bosom ineradicable seeds
of future decline. I will not argue the matter, but
^ecctttr ^itntrau after fetttt^. 229
appeal at once to the testimony of those whom war
has cost the dearest. I know what would be told
me by those who have suffered nothing, whose
domestic happiness has been unbroken, whose daily
comfort undisturbed, whose experience of calamity
consists, at its utmost, in the incertitude of a specu-
lation, the dearness of a luxury, or the increase of
demands upon their fortune v/hich they could meet
fourfold without inconvenience — from these I can
well believe, be they prudent economists or careless
pleasure-seekers, the cry for peace will rise vocifer-
ously, whether in street or in senate. But I ask^
their witness to whom war has changed the aspect
of the earth and the imagery of heaven, v/hose hopes
it has cut off like a spider's web, whose treasure it
has placed in a moment under the seals of clay, those
who nevermore see sunrise, nor watch the climbing
light gild the eastern clouds, without thinking what
graves it has gilded first far down behind the dark
earth-line — ask their witness, and see if they will
not reply that it is well with them and with theirs,
that they would have it no otherwise, would not, if
they might, receive back their gifts of love and life,
nor take again the purple of their blood out of the
cross on the breastplate of England. And this not
for pride, but because also they have felt that the
spirit that has discerned them for eminence in sorrow
has been to them an angel of other things than
agony. They know now the strength of sacrifice,
and that its flames can illumine as well as consume."
Yes, do we not sometimes feel in hot, dry, sultry
weather, '^ Oh, for a good thunderstorm ! " We are
not fond of thunder ; we know that lightning is de-
structive ; we like bright sunshine better than black
cloud and plashing rain, and yet we see that these
convulsions of nature are good and wholesome, and
that life and health need them. We should like
some milder remedy, if it might be had, but our
230 .^^rontr ^itittra^ after Crintt^,
system knows none but this rough one, and so we bid
it come. So in these days, when we do not knov/
whether to wonder or to smile or to be angry at the
sight of the soft, useless lives of so many, with their
ridiculous grievances and their puerile pleasures;
when we see hosts more grubbing and scraping for
money, and chuckhng over downright dishonesty,
as if it were a talent or a merit ; when we see the
lower ranks of society brutalised by low indulgences
and misled by designing demagogues ; when we see
all this and a thousand other miseries and disgraces
and abuses, do we not sometimes feel that, if there is
to be salvation for us as a nation, there must be
some purifying fire to sweep over all this, and that
a sharp and severe war, that would be for life and
honour and Hberty and national existence, would be
a wholesome thing indeed ; would recall men and
women to duty and simplicity and earnestness and
the fear of GOD ; would give them some aim in life,
some purpose, and raise one and all to think of
something else than their despicable selves and their
own petty ends and aims ?
But if these things are so as regards temporal
matters, they are equally true with respect to spiritual
matters. Read the history of Christianity. What
have been its greatest enemies? Have they not
been peace and worldly prosperity ? As soon as
persecution ceased, heresy began. As soon as bishop
and martyr ceased to be almost synonymous terms,
bishops began to be worldly. As soon as wealth
poured in upon the Church, abuses multiplied. And
so it has been said, ''At first the bishops' crosiers
were but wooden staves, but then the bishops were
golden ; by-and-by the crosiers were of gold and
jewelled, but then the bishops were wooden ! " Christ
had said that His Church and the world were to be
perpetual enemies ; that the Church was to be ever
militant, ever aggressive, and so be pure, while sh(5
^Eironit ^untra^j aft^^r Wvinit'^. 231
was always progressive; but time saw the Church and
the world in unworthy alliance, and the world was no
better for it, and the Church was sadly the worse.
Israel's charter of old was war against the nations
of Canaan till they were consumed; but peace and
alliances were made, and so Canaan was never wholly
possessed, and God's purposes were frustrated.
Turn over page after page of the Church's annals,
and the same law is seen in operation. A zealous
man stirs up a spirit of progress, and at once all
the Gospel-fruits appear, and CHRIST showers His
blessings, and His very presence is discernible.
Religious Orders are founded in the spirit of the
Sermon on the Mount; they grow, they spread;
it seems as if all the glorious promises of CHRIST
were going to be realised. But presently wealth
and honours come. There is peace and quietness
where there had been eager energy and restless
advance. The enemy has conquered, not by opposi-
tion, but by caresses; and the warrior of CHRIST
is no longer fighting, and the Church has lost her
right arm.
Yes, war is the Church's true vocation ; it is
essential to her life ; war not with sword of steel,
but with the sword of the LORD ; the propagation of
the faith by the sword of the Spirit, which is the ,
Word of God. If there is life, there is and must be)
growth. If there is fire, the fire must spread and
devour. If the Church be not dead or dying, there
must be missionary zeal ; there must be in each
congregation of the faithful a proselytising spirit
emanating, a leaven pushing its way hither and
thither, to pervade, if it may be, all things within
its reach. *
Would it have been possible for our land to have
so relapsed as it has, especially in our large towns, |
into heathenism and godlessness, if the Church had !
been true to her mission, if Christian men had done \
232 ^eronti ^utitra^ aittv Crintt^.
their duty ? There have been cold, dead times.
The trumpet-call to the LORD'S battle has not been
heard, and the spoilers, the World, the Flesh, and
the Devil, have come out in their three companies and
wasted the heritage of GOD.
Why do we read those old-world histories of
Israel's battles, but to stir up our hearts, to teach
our hands to war and our fingers to fight ? Why
does the New Testament remind us of Gideon, of
Barak, of Samson, of Jephtha, of David also, and
Samuel, but because they were saviours of their
country by honourable war? ''The land is ours,
and we go not up to possess it." It is not worse
with us than it was with their country in the days
of these heroes. They did and dared ; they fought
and endured; and the LORD wrought a great victory
by their hands. And now He does but wait to bless
those who range themselves under His banner, and
against cruel odds march on dauntless. We can do
all things, if only we will. It is our fault, our
grievous fault, our sloth, our unbelief, our luxury,
our cowardice — these arm our enemies, and spoil
the fair realms of CHRIST on earth.
" Shame upon you, legions of the heavenly King !
What I with pipe and tabor fool away the light,
When He bids you labour, when He bids you, Fight 1 "
The better Jehu cries, '' Who is on my side, who?"
and to some, '' What hast thou to do with peace ?
Turn thee behind me." May there be throughout
this land of CHRIST a declaration of war, a call to
arms, a throwing away the scabbard, a rising of the
armies of GOD against His enemies. Thank Goi)
there are signs of life and movement among us !
There are here and there men of rank, influence,
and education who visit the lowest neighbourhoods,
and work with self-sacrifice, and fight the devil man-
fully ; there are men, unlearned and ignorant, but full
^Ejrotttr .iiitntrair after tettit^. 233
of zeal and spiritual fire ; there are apostles of tem-
perance, apostles of sanitary reform ; there are godly
and blessed women, who teach, nurse, comfort, and
with gentle, pure hands lift up the fallen and lost.
Colleges at the Universities and public schools are
starting and maintaining missions in the slums of
London and other great towns. Let us pray that
the blessed Spirit of Light and Truth may be shed
upon the Church, giving us unity and love and
strength ; then great shall be the company of the
preachers, and great the power of their words ;
and then honour and glory and victory will come,
must come; come to the conquerors, come to the
conquered ; for in this v/arfare all are blessed alike.
" Oh, that the forces indeed were arrayed ! Oh, joy of the
onset I
Sound, thou trumpet of GOD ! Come forth, great cause, to
array us !
King and Leader, appear ! Thy soldiers, sorrowing, call
Thee."
But if this aggressive spirit is the true life of
the Church, it is essential also to each member of
the Church. We are enrolled as soldiers of Christ
at our Baptism, and there is no furlough for any
one of us. People sometimes complain bitterly that
besetting faults still cling to them in spite of effort
and prayer ; that they do not get on, or grow sensibly
better, and that they get out of heart and desponding,
and that they feel inclined to give up, because it is
such hard, discouraging work to be always resisting
the same temptations, always fighting the same in-
firmities, always struggling against difficulties and
drawbacks of every kind; and they say, ^'Oh for
rest and peace! Oh for the end of all this, and
quiet and victory ! " What is the answer to such
but " Onward, Christian soldier ! " This sense of
struggling and battling is your surest sign of hope.
You cannot be very far wrong so long as you are
234 ^erotitr ^utttra^ after fetttt^.
fighting sword in hand on CHRIST'S side. It is not
for common soldiers to know exactly how their regi-
ment is placed. You cannot expect the general to
leave his post and come to you individually, and tell
you all his plans, and explain to you all the details
of the great battle that is being fought. Enough
for you that you are His soldier, fighting in His
good cause, certain of victory, certain of reward.
Do your plain duty. You have your orders ; you
have your task, suited to your ability ; do that faith-
fully ; do your best ; but, come what will, be always
fighting; so you are safe. It is only when you
lie down, or sleep, or give yourself up to ease and
indulgence that there is danger for you.
The old Moslem saying has truth at its root, " The
gate of Paradise is made of crossed swords." It will
not be long. There is rest prepared for the people
of God. It will come soon ; and when it comes, it
will be unbroken and inexhaustible. There will be
time enough then for repose. Now for a little while
there must be ceaseless fighting. A little while
you must be in this troublesome world; and then
rest ; then the place prepared for you in that happy
land /' where, beyond these voices, there is peace."
EJjirU Suntiag after STrinttij.
SAMUEVS LIFE AT SHILOH.
*' The child Samuel grew before the LORD." These
or similar words are repeated no less than six times
in this morning's Lesson, and the following chapters.
They come in like the burden of an old ballad, or
like the theme of some piece of music. At the be-
ginning we are introduced to it ; then we are led
away from it up and down sweet and complicated
strains, till presently there is a gradual modulation,
and we know what is coming, and are delighted
when the original air steals back note by note.
Then perhaps there is a contrast, a change of key,
power and intricacy and rapidity, and we are taken
by surprise when the old melody is brought back
once more, now perhaps a little altered, as if it had
been affected by the influence of the conflicting
elements from which it has emerged. So the skilful
composer will go on introducing infinite variations,
yet always keeping his original idea in view, ever
and anon returning to it, and culminating at last
with a phrase or a chord that satisfies and delights
the ear, and leaves it thrilling with the haunting
memory of that oft-repeated melody, so that it comes
up unbidden, and its echoes frame themselves into
reality upon our lips or our fingers.
There are other instances of this rhythmical re-
petition in the Bible. Thus in the first chapter of
Genesis the phrase, ^' The' evening and the morning
were such a day," strikes [the ear with its measured
235
236 CIrtrtr ,^untra^ after t^rtttitij.
monotony, and seems to tell of order and repetition
and progress, like the banners of some great pro-
cession that mark at once its length and its unity.
One of the most striking instances is the refrain in
the Psalms, '' His mercy endureth for ever," coming
as it does sometimes by way of example, sometimes
of contrast, sometimes without visible connection,
but impressing itself all the more by its obtrusive
repetition. So it is in the New Testament with our
Lord's significant words, '^ Verily I say unto you.
They have their reward ; " or that more severe
denunciation, ''Woe unto you Scribes and Pharisees,
hypocrites."
In to-day's Lesson the repeated recalling to the
mind of Samuel's innocent ministering childhood is
most striking. First there is the inspired song oi
his mother, and as it ends, we read, ''The child did
minister to the LORD before Eli the priest." Then
comes the horrible record of the sacrilege of Eli's
sons, as they robbed and desecrated the sacrifices of
God ; and then immediately the old idea by way of
contrast, " But Samuel ministered before the Lord,
being a child, girded v/ith a linen ephod." Then a
fev/ words respecting his father and mother, and
then, " And the child Samuel grew before the LORD."
Then once more the record returns to Eli and his
sons, and tells of other and deeper sin, till we glide
unconsciously into the restful phrase, "The child
Samuel grew on, and was in favour with the LORD,
and also with men." Next comes the terrible message
of the man of GOD to Eli, with its climax foretelling
abject poverty and misery and shame to this family
of unworthy priests; and then, without break or
pause, the old familiar idea, "The child Samuel minis-
tered unto the LORD before Eli." Then Samuel's
first vision, his detail of it to Eli, and Eli's reception
of the humiliating reproof and doom ; all terminating
with the same picture of quiet, innocent fulfilment of
i^^xrtr ^xtittratT after i^ntiit^, 237
duty, progress and growth, '^ And Samuel grew, and
the Lord was with him."
Such, then, is one of those many unobtrusive
beauties of Bible history which delight those who
read and mark its pages in a humble, loving spirit.
In such half-hidden teaching lies the value of many
of our Sunday Lessons, which the careless and in-
devout never notice, never profit by.
For is there not much significance and instruction
in this record of the life and progress of a child of
God ? The world goes on, with its routine, with its
catastrophes, with its sins ; but in some quiet corner,
unnoticed, almost unknown, GOD is nourishing His
own son, and preparing the heir for his inheritance.
Men grasp .greedily at things forbidden ; men sin
against GOD and against themselves, till the bitter
end comes ; but side by side with, them is the quiet,
sober man, proving in his own experience that
'^Godliness with contentment is great gain;" for
while these men, with ill-gotten gains, dearly pur-
chased by the loss of peace and happiness here, and
by immeasurable loss in the v/orld that will soon be
revealed, can carry nothing away with them when
they die, this man has been laying up treasure in
heaven, and will, like an heir who has had a long
minority, step into vast accumulated v/calth the
moment his inheritance is his own.
Do not those words of our LoRD often come into
our minds, when the wealth and pride and luxury of
the world flaunt themselves before us, '^The last
shall be first, and the first last " ? Do we not some-
times wonder where GOD is educating those who
will be the aristocracy, the millionaires, of the world
to come, the princes, the great ones, the leaders and
lords of many ? Ah ! what strange revelations there
will be in that great day of light and truth ! What
triumphs of the Cross ; what unsuspected heroism ;
what exaltation of humanity; what nobility of life
238 ®Ir:r!r ^utttra^ after l^rttttt^.
and character brought out by the true and loyal
acceptance of the principles of CHRIST'S teaching!
All through the ages there have been from time to
time sudden revelations of these hidden worthies,
these great and noble souls who always exist, the
salt of the earth, but who for the most part live and
die unknown, except to GOD and His holy angels,
and perhaps to a few who are at their side, and
know what they are.
In the primitive days, when persecution broke out,
there was a great sifting out of untrue Christians.
They apostatised in droves. But then there was
also the discovery of saintly souls, who but for this
had never been heard of; children like Pancras,
slave-girls like Blandina, refined and cultured ladies
like Agnes, officers in the army like Sebastian.
None had suspected how great they were, so quiet
and unobtrusive had been their holiness.
Think of those dark, troublous times when men
went forth into the pathless forests, and made them-
selves rude huts, and there lived and prayed and taught
the wild, savage people to be Christian, to sow and
reap, to build homes, to live quiet and cleanly, to
cease to be human beasts, and to learn to be men.
Then think how some lawless horde of Danes or
Goths or Huns swept down upon that little com-
munity, and how the brothers quietly went into their
rough church, and kneeled, and were slaughtered as
they kneeled, and their bodies were lost in the
charred ashes of their sanctuary, their very names
unknown, their self-denials, their patience, their
CriRIST-like example never recorded. Think of the
honest and true lives of simple men, in those walled
towns of the Middle Ages, whose ruins scarcely
suffice to tell where once joys and sorrows, hopes
and fears, dwelt, and all the manifold interests of
human life, love and pain and death. Think of the
patient goodness of wives and mothers, shrouded in
Wttt ^ittttrau after tettttir. 239
their own homes, but making brightness and kindling
love in many a grateful bosom, seen and known by
God, as the gold is seen in the mine, the jewel in
the rock ; like the prince in some fairy-tale, stolen
away, brought up in humble obscurity, but a prince
for all that, with blue blood, in his veins, and high
and noble qualities inherited from long ancestry,
irresistibly bursting forth in gentleness and gracious
deeds.
We are horrified very often at the evil in the world,
at the wickedness and degradation of humanity ; let
us not forget all this inner circle of heroism and
greatness and saintliness. It is the very salt of the
earth, that keeps it wholesome; that prevents the
inrush of ruin and the collapse of society ; that will
be the harvest reaped in by joyous angels, when the
tares shall at last have been pulled up and separated,
and when the Saviour shall see of the travail of His
soul and be satisfied.
But then there comes the next and more important
thought — And we ? What shall we be then and
there ? Unwise indeed and unreasonable we, if we
do not so think, and think gravely and often, and
act upon what we think.
There is a story of a Court fool or jester of the
Middle Ages, who, when he received his bauble,
as a symbol of his office, was bidden by his master
to keep it till he found a greater fool than himself to'
give it to ; and who came to see his lord upon his
deathbed, who said to him that he was going away
on a long journey and to a distant country, and that
he should see him no more. '' Well," said the fool,
^' I hope you have made all your preparations, and
will have a good journey and a happy arrival."
^' Alas ! " said the great man, '' I feel that I have
made no preparation at all." " Then," said the
other, '^ surely you have been taken by surprise ;
you never expected to have this journey to make."
240 Wljitb ^nntaa^ after l^rintt^.
*^ Alas ! " again said the dying man, ^' I knew all
along that I had this journey to make, and yet I
never gave a thought to preparation for it ; 1 knew
that I should have to live in that new country, yet
I have never learned its language, or studied its
customs, or made myself acquainted with its people."
*' Ah ! " said the jester, " take thou my bauble, for no-
fool can be greater than thou." A true and wise
word, surely, though spoken by a fool.
Year follows year, and those whom we know are
called away, and the impression deepens that our
turn must be coming nearer and nearer day by day.
Side by side with us, earnest men and women are
acting upon this conviction, and, like Samuel, are
growing and being educated and fitted for the great
future before them. They know that life cannot be
all holiday ; they know that this life has its claims
and its requirements, and they turn aside to fulfil
them, but they keep always steadily in view the
eternal unchanging life ; they make all things subor-
dinate to that. This one great, real, sobering, prac-
tical thought comes in ever and again, like this
repeated record of Samuel's grov/th and ministra-
tion. To this they ever recur, whatever else may
have occupied them for a time, gravitating back to it,
as the momentarily diverted compass-needle swings
back ever to the north. Such are the sober, earnest,
undemonstrative, great middle class of Christians.
And what are we ? Have we this great gravitating
principle, that brings us ever naturally and inevitably
back to the thought and preparation for that for which
God has made us ? Do we feel that v/e are growing,
and being educated for a life higher, better, holier,
than this ? As we change, and as the world changes
around us, is there still (as there is always the same
face which all recognise in us, even those who re-
member us only in childhood), so always the same
one unaltered aim, the same inner life ? When the
Wh'tvti ^itniia^ after Srinit^. 241
keynote is struck from time to time by heavenly
hands, is it still ever in tune with the tenor of our
life ? Have we not some of us got flat, lost the pitch,
changed the key, forgotten the guiding theme that
was given us by the Master at first ? Can this oft-
recurring record of Samuel's life find its parallel in
ours ? We grow in many things — in experience,
in wisdom some of us, in wealth some of us, in age
all of us ; do we also, like Samuel, '' grow before the
Lord"?
JourUj Sunbag after Exinit^.
THE PERFECT MAN.
It gives interest, force, and meaning to the words
of Peter, the fisherman, in the Epistle to-day, when
we notice that the word '' perfect," which he uses, is
one that is connected with his old craft. When our
Lord called the sons of Zebedee they were '' mend-
ing their nets ; " literally, making them '' perfect ; "
and now, when Peter had become a '' fisher of men,"
he cannot better describe the spiritual hfe than by
using a similitude drawn from the fisherman's neces-
sary work ; work that is not fishing, but is essential
to the success of his fishing — repairing the rents in
his nets, strengthening the weak places, making it
good all over, '' perfect." A net may have good
weights to sink one side of it ; good floats to keep
up the other side; good ropes to let it down and
haul it up again ; good mcshwork generally ; but if
there be one weak point, all the rest will not be of
much use ; something will give way, and the fish
actually netted will be lost, as completely as if they
had never been caught at all. Now, says St. Peter,
what is true of a net is true of a man. Every man
has his weak point; he must mend that. Man is
made up of many functions, many powers. His
nature is diverse and multiform ; he has body, soul,
and spirit, will, affections, intellect, memory, imagi-
nation, desire. The perfect man is he who culti-
vates all these ; keeps all active, healthy, and withal
yoMxth -^attttrair after f^rinit^. 243
equally balanced; none in excess, none stunted or
overborne. If one organ of the body is inordinately
developed it produces disease and leads to death.
So a man may become monstrous, unhealthy, im-
perfect, injurious, if there be one important part of
his nature which is neglected, stunted, forced down
out of due proportion.
This is a great truth that no one will deny in the
abstract, but in the present day it is especially need-
ful to remind ourselves of it, in its practical bearing
upon our daily life. The vast progress of knowledge
and of the arts and sciences renders division es-
sential. It is a day of specialties. In the simple
country village one shop provides all that is wanted;
in a great city there are many wants, and each trade
has its own shops. In a low stage of civilisation
each man does everything for himself; in a highly
civilised community there is division of labour and
a multitude of occupations, each man doing only one
kind of work ; and the result is, not only that more
work is done, but that better work is done, and per-
fection attained that could be arrived at in no other
way. We have but recently begun to act upon this
principle. Not long ago, in all schools and uni-
versities, there was but one course of study for all ;
now each student may follow the special leading of
his own intellectual powers. There are more and
more specialists in medicine, in surgery, in engineer-
ing, in science, in writing books, in navigation, in
travel ; in everything. Even our sports are reduced
to a system and a science, and no one expects to be
first-rate in more than one study or art or accom-
plishment. Not so long ago the Dame-school was
thought good enough for the majority of the people ;
now education is not only advanced, but is carried
forward on scientific principles. The ear is cultured
by music, the eye is trained by beauty of form and
harmony of colour, and capabilities hitherto lying
244 JFntirtl^ ^tttttra^ after tenit^.
dormant are discovered and brought into progressive
development.
Just as the angels saw the gold in California, and
the diamonds in Africa, ages before man discovered
them; just as steam and electricity existed long
before they were made useful, so in any human
mind and soul there may be latent powers that are
lying dormant because they have never been called
forth into active exercise. Compare the collier with
the astronomer. The one works underground and
needs little more than strong muscles; the other
requires years of study, knowledge of intricate cal-
culations, the use of most delicate instruments. In-
terchange the men's occupations, and each will be
helpless, useless. So in every man there are special
faculties for special purposes, and they will do for
no others. The finest telescope ever constructed
will not discover GOD. The most powerful micro-
scope will not find the soul. So the cultivation of
the intellect will not give a man faith. It is the
pure in heart who see GOD. It is the eyes of the
heart that need to be enlightened that we may know
Him. To beheve in GOD we must surrender the will.
He says, ''Son, give Me thy heart." We cannot
long hold on to GOD by the logical faculty alone
while we give the heart to other things. To know
God is more an act of acceptance than of discovery.
Faith implies an act of surrender. The truest picture
of theology is that of a little child looking up to his
father with love and trust. We cannot meet GOD
on equal terms. He '' resisteth the proud."
Can v/e not see why so many clever men are un-
believers ? They have cultivated one set of faculties,
and ignored another set. The intellect has filled
the whole field, and left no space for the heart to
exercise itself Simple-minded Christians are some-
times staggered, and their faith almost overthrown,
because they find that some of the master-minds of
yourtir ^ittttra^ aft^r t^rttttt^. 245
the day, men confessedly first in their own special
study, are unbelievers. If we look at the fact from
this standpoint, we shall see that it is really no ar-
gument at all against the acceptance of Christianity.
Such men are no more competent judges in the
matter than a blind man is a judge of colour or
beauty. Each man has but a certain amount of
vital force; if he expends it all upon one pursuit,
there is nothing left for other objects. The late Mr.
Darwin was a remarkable instance of this. He
says of himself: ^^Up to the age of thirty, poetry
gave me great pleasure, pictures gave me consider-
able, music very great delight ; but now I cannot
endure to read a line of poetry; I have lost my
taste for pictures and music ; fine scenery does not
cause me the exquisite delight which it formerly did.
My mind seems to have become a kind of machine
for grinding general laws out of large collections of
facts. Why this should have caused the atrophy of
that part of the brain on which the higher tastes
depend, I cannot conceive."
If we attended nothing but drawing-classes we
should never learn to sing. Some years ago, when
the American war stopped the supply of cotton,
thousands were thrown out of employment, for they
had never learned to do anything but attend to
machinery for cotton manufacture; and when the
mills were stopped they could not turn their hands
to anything else. This is one of the disadvantages
of a high civiHsation and the consequent division of
labour ; a great number of persons can only do one
thing, and if that fails they are destitute at once.
They give all their attention to learn one particular
industry ; they become skilful in that, but they cannot
turn their hands to anything else. So whenever
trade is bad there are multitudes of clerks without
means of living ; they are not wanted ; they can only
do one sort of work, and therefore they are in distress.
24^ JFoitrtlj ^ittttraii after Sritttt^.
Just like this is the spiritual condition of many.
The moral faculties and the powers of the soul have
been entirely neglected, till they have become atro-
phied, paralysed, useless. The man has lost all
power of intercourse with GOD, all desire of super-
sensual things, all consciousness of the supernatural.
The intellectual man has trained and forced his
mental powers ; the man of business has given his
whole thought to his trade ; the working-man has
lived very much like an animal ; and the result in
all alike is, that the soul has been crushed down,
and its powers weakened, till it almost ceases to live,
and quite ceases to act and make itself felt.
It may be said, there must be different occupations
in a civilised community ; some must work with the
head, and some with the hands ; special talents
must find their exercise, each in its own fitting
employment. This is quite true ; but the merchant,
the lawyer, the tradesman,"the mechanic, the labourer,
while each follows his own calling, is still a man.
The variety of occupation does not prevent any from
being a good husband and a happy father. The
man's affections and his home-duties exist and work
side by side with the due fulfilment of his trade or
profession ; he may be '' perfect " in both. So the
Christian system has added a third requirement to
the old heathen ideal of human perfection. It de-
mands not merely " a sound mind in a sound body,"
but also a spirit that exercises its proper functions,
and has intercourse with spiritual persons and things,
and especially with the great Father of Spirits, the
eternal GOD, the Source of purity and truth, of
light and love.
Sunday is given us especially to help us in our
spiritual life. There must be some daily communion
with God, but Sunday affords special opportunity,
rest from labour, freedom from intercourse with the
world's duties. It is the acceptance of our Lord's
|F0urtlT ^ittttra^ after ^rititt^. 247
invitation, " Come aside, and rest awhile." It is
leaving Martha's work for Mary's, sitting at the feet
of her Lord. It is " mending the nets," that the
fishing by-and-by may be successful. Let Sunday
be the holiday of body and mind, but the working-
day of the spiritual nature. It is as necessary to
the soul's health as rest and change are for the
health of the body and the mind. The loss or the
abuse of Sunday is evidently equally injurious to a
nation's well-being and a Christian man's spiritual
Hfe. God Himself has said to man, ^' Be still,
and know that I am GOD ; " and the truth of His
words is becoming more and more evident. Hurry
and rush, overwork of mind and body, these are
features of the present day, and the natural conse-
quence is atheism. Men do not know GOD because
they are never " still."
Just in the same way, our LORD'S words are daily
seen to be more plainly true, ^' Except ye be con-
verted, and become as little children, ye cannot enter
into the kingdom of heaven." The little child comes
to his father in his troubles, in everything that is
too much for himself. The Christian man, whatever
he may be, humbleth his soul as a little child before
God ; and so God's word is fulfilled, ^' He healeth
all thy infirmities."
Just as a well-mended place is often stronger
than it was before it was broken, so the penitent
may be great in that very point where he was
weakest. So Boanerges became the apostle of love ;
Peter, the patient martyr; Moses, the meekest of
men ; the restored cripple not merely walks, but
leaps and dances.
Mental power may raise a man above his fellows ;
commercial success may make a man rich and influ-
ential ; high office may give him power over the
destiny of his country and of the world ; but before
his God the greatest man must humble himself; he
248 JFoitrtllr ^utttraii after i^rinitti.
must be but a little child in the presence of his
Heavenly Father. The worlds with its ranks and
offices, its wealth and occupations, passes away ;
but each man's soul abides.
The kingdom of heaven will have its aristocracy,
its princes, its leaders, its trusted authorities, its
honoured heroes ; and He Who will be LORD para-
mount there. Who sees at one glance the. coming
destiny of meq, and their present condition, says,
"Many that are first shall be last, and the last
first."
Jift}} Suntia^ after STrinitj}.
THE PURSUIT OF PEACE.
St. Peter to-day gives us in few words his judg-
ment as to the method of securing a happy Hfe ; and
apostle as he was, and friend and disciple of our
Lord, he has no new invention to bring forward,
nothing of his own, nothing even of our Lord's,
but an old-world rule of life, which had been written
in the 34th Psalm generations before. Human life,
with its lights and shadows, is much the same in all
ages. There is no panacea for its ills. With all
our discoveries and progress, we can invent nothing
better than this prescription ages old.
There are three precepts given : to guard the
tongue, to prefer good to evil, and to seek peace.
This last really covers with its broad hand all that
is comprised in the other two, and it can stand
alone, and be prescribed as a motto of Christian life,
the very sum and essence of highest wisdom and
prudence, " Seek peace, and ensue it."
First, we must seek peace with GOD. There has
ever been among mankind a sense of *sin, a feeling
that there is a separation between a righteous GOD
and the creature who, through passion or infirmity,
has transgressed His laws. Sacrifices and many
strange and painful rites attest this feeling. Man
has come before GOD as a suppliant, suing for
peace, and ready to pay a high price for it. How
this estrangement between GOD and man has come
2 so fim ^imba^r after frtmtti.
about has not always been understood, but the fact
has been acknowledged and lamented. Man has
felt responsibility to a great Master, and has looked
forward to a day of reckoning and judgment, and
has desired to prepare for it. Tliere has ever been
a yearning for mediation, for some third person to
stand between GOD and man and effect a peace.
Man has felt himself unfit to face GOD, and has
entrusted his cause to advocates more worthy than
himself to stand before Him and plead. There
have, indeed, been a few men in old times, and in
our own, who have opposed this general feeling of
mankind, and who have either denied the existence
of this Supreme Judge, or have argued against the
certainty of a future life, or have maintained the
necessity of our actions, and that there is therefore
no such a thing as sin. But they have persuaded
but a small section of men to adopt their theories.
They seem often to have not really believed them
themselves. The vast majority of thinjcing men
have ever believed in GOD, in immortality, in sin,
in responsibility, and have felt the need of peace
with God.
These instinctive feelings of man our LORD came
to systematise and to satisfy. From the day when
the angels sang at His Birth, to His last words
before His departure from the world, " peace " was
ever associated with Him. He was the Mediator
whom man had longed for. He was the Sacrifice
for sin that man had felt was needed, and had tried
to offer. He instituted His Church and sacraments
to bring peace evermore to the sin-laded conscience,
to conduct the soul through every stage of life, till
the last comes and it departs in peace, reconciled to
God, and with a sure hope of immortality in its
home in the Bosom of GOD.
" Seek peace, and ensue it," next, within. It was
a discovery long ago made that man was dual in
jFiftlr ^utttra^i aft^r tetttt^. 251
his nature; that there was conflict within, between
opposing powers and conflicting wills; passions
raging, and calm reason resisting; predilections de-
manding their gratification, and conscience sternly
repeating '' No ; " body and spirit with antagonistic
interests and aims. Wise men argued and thought
and wrote as to the best way to gain peace within ;
and the general consensus declared that peace could
only come through the victory of the higher sense
over the lower, spirit over body, conscience over
passion. In a word, it was concluded that peace
within could be obtained only as it is to be had in
the world at large, by means of war; war carried
on without cessation till victory is obtained ; nay,
victory after victory, till the enemy is crushed
and rendered impotent for future aggression. Our
Lord's word is, '' What hast thou to do with peace ?
Turn thou behind Me ; " i.e., be a soldier for life.
This is not well understood, especially in this
easy-going age. A large section of men merely
follow the impulse of their passions and animal
instincts. There is no fight, no struggle; they
quietly follow the law of nature, and the higher
path of the spiritual life is not even attempted. But
there is no peace in this. The flesh is a hard
master to serve, and there is at best a perpetual
dissatisfied unrest that kills effectually all inward
peace.
God's saints will have none of this. We read
how they have waged fierce and cruel war against
their passions and infirmities ; hov/ they have used
terrible mortifications, treating their bodies as ene-
mies, and breaking down the rebellion of the flesh
by, what seems to us, fierce cruelty and almost
suicidal violence. But peace has come from it.
They have gained the likeness of our Lord, in
Whose soul perfect peace reigned, because every
passion, every impulse, kept its fit place. A thought-
252 JFtftlr .^utttra^ after tenitir.
ful traveller says of this : ^' There is something very
suggestive in the silence of Chimborazo. It was
once full of noise and fury, as a volcano. It is now
a completed mountain, and thunders no more. The
reason that we are so noisy is that we are full of
wants. We are unfinished characters. jESUS was
silent, because He was perfect."
With most middle-class Christians there is small
hope of attaining this inner peace in its entirety in
this life. We have not the courage to be saints, and
to secure peace by bloody, painful war upon self; and
so there is only a perpetual series of petty skirmishes
all through Hfe, and all that we hope for is not to
be beaten and put to shameful rout and ruin by the
rebellion of our lower nature against our higher
aspirations. We can but seek peace by keeping up
Hfelong war, relying upon God's promise of '^ peace
at the last."
There is one more application of these words,
as they relate to our fellow-men. Here too, as in
the last instance, the stress and emphasis of the
exhortation must rest upon the means rather than
upon the end ; '' Seek peace, and follow after it ; "
but do not be sure of attaining it. That which was
said long ago is still found true, ^'When I speak
to them of peace, they make them ready to battle."
Some people will not be peaceable with us, do what
we may. And so St. Paul says, " If it be possible,
as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all
men." " It takes two to make a quarrel." Let others
do what they will; let us earn the blessing of the
peacemaker. Even our LORD Himself, the Prince
of Peace, made enemies ; we must not be surprised,
then, if, with all our goodwill to men, we find our-
selves sometimes treated as enemies. But, for all
this, we must not give up the pursuit of peace ; for
even if we fail to obtain it, we shall have done well to
follow after it ; ay, and we shall have found a satis-
fmh ^utttra^T after tettttiJ. 253
faction in the mere pursuit of it. It is said of hunt-
ing, that its chief pleasure is rather in the chase
of the game than in catching it, and the words used
here are taken from the vocabulary of the chase.
There is pleasure in the mere ensuing of peace, even
though it be not overtaken and captured. Thank
God for this. There is, after all, no perfect peace
here on earth. In all the applications of the Apostle's
precept, this has come out evidently. We may have
partial peace, measures of the peace of GOD; but,
after all, it " passeth present understanding." It has
to be sought ; to be pursued ; to be striven after,
longed for, prayed for; but it comes not yet, it
comes not here. We are still, with David, '^ the man
of war." The reign of Solomon is not yet. We
labour for peace by war. We fight and struggle
and pray ; and this is our cry : —
" Grant us Thy help till foes are backward driven ;
(jrant peace on earth ;— or, after we have striven.
Peace in Thy heaven."
■f^^
^ixtf) SunDaB after Erinitg.
THE SOU US LIBERATION FROM THE BODY.
When we, with our limited powers, look out upon
the world around us, and then try to picture to our-
selves the eternal future of the men and women
whom we meet day by day, we are speedily sur-
rounded by, and bewildered with, difficulties that
seem insurmountable. There are a few very good
people, but there are many who, while they do not
seem good enough for heaven, do not seem bad
enough for hell. Indeed, as we grow older, and
our knowledge and experience correct the hasty
judgments of youth or prejudice, we feel disposed
to pass a more lenient judgment upon the sins and
failings of many of our fellow-sinners. We see that
sterling good qualities may exist, side by side with
some unfortunate failing that ruins a man's whole
life. We see that external circumstances may deter-
mine a man's lot, much more than the deliberate act
of his own will. We see that one mistake may
blight a man's prospects, and that other persons'
acts may force him into a course that would other-
-ever have been pursued by him. Some
'o not seem to have so good a chance as
'• merely of success and of happiness, but
morality, and religion. We can enter
"*ig of John Bradford, who, seeing a
to execution, said, "There goes John
the grace of GOD." Fashion again
^i^tb^ ^utttra^ aiUt Crittitg. 255
and custom account for much. Much of the church-
going of the present day among the higher classes
is probably due to this alone, and much of the
neglect of it by the lower classes is due to no other
or worse reason.
In the last century men of rank and position drank
too much at dinner-parties and fought duels. These
practices have disappeared ; yet we must not attach
too high a value to the fact, as if we were in all
things superior to our ancestors. In like manner
we loathe the drunkenness of the lower class, and
the awful crimes and degradation that arise out of
it ; but at the same time we cannot shut our eyes
to the certainty that all this arises from other causes
than mere love of drink, and moral degradation.
The overgrowth of towns, the separation of class
and class, the squalid wretchedness of the dwellings
in the poorer parts of great cities, our miserable
climate, and the absence of all that is elevating,
these all must be taken into account when we
appraise justly the sins and special crimes of the
lower ranks of society.
Thank GOD, the final destiny of our fellow-men
does not depend upon our judgment, but upon that
of Him '' by Whom actions are weighed," Who
knoweth the thoughts and intents of the heart, and
the antecedents and surrounding circumstances of
each act ; Who has not only infinite wisdom, perfect
love, and evenly balanced justice, as God, but Who,
as Man, has made experiment of human life, and
has felt in Himself the movement of passions and
the pressure of external influence.
Probably, moreover, the popular ideas of heaven
and hell, and of the intermediate state, are not
altogether true. Doubtless a more correct judg-
ment on these things would remove or lessen many
present difficulties.
But, besides all this, there is yet ^another train of
256 ^xjith ^itntra^ after l^rmtt^.
thought that may help us to see how different the
future hfe must be from that which now surrounds
US; and how we ourselves and others may hereafter
be so differently circumstanced as to be hardly
recognisable as the same beings. Have we ever
analysed the source of our actions, and seen how
largely, perhaps how exclusively, many of them ori-
ginate with our bodies ? St. Paul seems to recognise
in himself a double existence. He stands without
and watches his other and lower self acting indepen-
dently, or even in opposition to his superior nature.
There is, as it were, civil war in the kingdom within.
The little world that exists in each of us is as much
divided, and subject to conflicts and antagonism, as
the great world outside. The splendid discoveries
of science are always finding out more and more
the marvellous powers and properties of the human
body, and are proving how greatly the soul is at
present dependent upon it, and how largely men's
actions and thoughts are the result of the well-being
or the morbid action of some fleshly organ.
Many a degraded drunkard, we are told, for
example, has inherited this terrible vice, just as
another man has inherited gout, or a third some
peculiarly shaped feature. In one family a morbid
taint ensures the appearance of consumptive ten-
dencies, while insanity is hereditary elsewhere, or
some mitigated mental derangement that leads to
eccentricity, or some moral obliquity that seems to
be almost irresistible. An accident, that has injured
part of the brain, changes a man's whole character.
Certain diseases make men irritable ; others make
them indolent. The state of a man's health alters
for him the whole aspect of life and everything
about him. There is a story of two godless French
philosophers, who, being weary of life and disgusted
with their lot, determined to spend an evening to-
o^ether, and next morning to commit suicide. They
^istlr ^uttia^ afttr OTrmit^. 257
lamented together the miseries of humanity, and
their own in particular ; they decided that hfe was
not worth living, that the world was not fit for
higher intellects like theirs, that they were not
appreciated duly, that their health was failing, and
that there was nothing but misery to look forward
to, and that the wisest thing to do was to escape
into nothingness, and make an end of their troubles.
Next morning they met to carry out their determina-
tion. But one of them was now in quite another
frame of mind ; he had tried, he said, a new medi-
cine that had been recommended to him, and it had
done him so much good, and he felt so well and
buoyant, that he took quite a different view of life
from that of the preceding evening, and he intended
to live on ! We may smile or be shocked at such
things, but is there not much truth in them after
all ? Is any one of us quite the same person
when we are in pain or wearied, as we are when
the body is healthy, and we are in the midst of
bright and wholesome things that make mere exist-
ence a pleasure ?
If, then, we would get an impartial verdict with
respect to ourselves and our actions, we must not
forget to give due weight to the influence of our
animal frame, and its condition at the moment, upon
our acts and impulses. We shall see what different
beings we should be if these bodies were stripped
away from us altogether, and soul and spirit stood
by themselves, no longer trammelled and biassed by
the motions of the flesh.
Nor is this quite all that should be said on this
matter. Not only are many of our most prominent
personal characteristics hereditary, and therefore not
directly due to any choice of our will, but how many
of our daily acts and failings are merely the result
of our present condition, as inhabiting bodies of
flesh ! Men work, mostly, not for love of work, but
^ixtlj ^utttian after ^rinit^.
because their body, and the bodies of those depen-
dent upon them, require food, shelter, and clothing.
Women fall into follies or sins because they happen
to be beautiful, and are therefore admired, flattered,
tempted.
If it were not for fatigue, for the time spent in
eating and sleeping, how much more time should we
have to give to intellectual and nobler occupations !
Say it is only eight hours out of the twenty-four,
3^et that is one-third of our time ! So the man of
sixty has spent at least twenty whole years, day
and night, in unconsciousness, or in the merest
animal operations ! Or if we venture to touch
lightly upon the tremendous influence of the sexual
instincts, let us think how enormous and far-reach-
ing are the results of this merely bodily movement.
Childhood, old age, disease, accident, or the surgeon's
knife obliterate the whole train of circumstances
that arise out of the action of certain functions of
the body, which can have no place in our spiritual
nature. After death, we neither marry nor are
given in marriage. Have we ever thought of the
consequences, proximate and remote, of this state
of things, and what a vastly different life it pre-
supposes from that of this world ?
The progress of scientific discovery has shown,
both in men and animals, that certain parts of the
brain, or certain nerves, are the ordinary seat of
particular mental powers, or are connected with
certain acts or functions. If these are artificialh^
stimulated, the results may be foreseen with cer-
tainty. Drugs, food, climate, the different periods
of life, these and a multitude of other influences
have a powerful effect upon the body, and so upon
our actions. St. Paul bewails the animal tendencies
of his body, and treats it like a beast of burden that
must be brought into subjection, that it may be kept
from rebellion, and made useful. Like him, other
^i£ih ^untratT after Crinit^. 259
saints of GOD have mortified the flesh, with its affec-
tions and lusts, till it has been marvellously subjected
to the soul, and the soul itself has been equally
strengthened, freed, and rendered independent of
the down-drawing of the body. Miraculous power,
such as that exercised by our LORD and others,
comes probably very much from this, and was
exerted at the expense of the body and its strength.
And now let us look on to the end of all this.
Death comes ; the soul is separated from the body,
which returns to its native earth. What a release
for the true servant of GOD ! What a setting free
of the tied and bound spirit ! No more lusts of the
flesh, clamouring for indulgence ! No more conflict
with impulses that are natural, but, except under
certain circumstances, sinful. Think of the host of
weaknesses, temptations, pains, limitations, that the
soul is delivered from as soon as it shakes itself
loose from the body. Well may the servants of
God, who understood this, have yearned and longed
for the day of their emancipation. Think of our
soul, capable of motion, thought, action, untram-
melled by the finite and limiting embarrassments of
the corruptible flesh ! Well may the Church thank
God when her children are freed from " the miseries
of this sinful world and the burden of the flesh."
But now let us say a word of caution, lest all this
be misunderstood, and perverted into materiaHsm,
fatalism, or depravity that is deemed excusable.
The body may die and perish, but the time that the
soul has inhabited it and been influenced by it will
leave its mark upon the soul, as the metal takes its
shape from the mould in which it has been cast.
Sin leaves its mark upon the soul. The spiritual
body, that will perhaps be evolved by the soul's own
action, will resemble of necessity the body of flesh ;
for the man is always the same, and every part and
function is dependent upon the soul. A man's life
26o ^i^Etlj ^untran after t^rmit^.
will be be written upon his spiritual body, which
will be the outward expression of his real inner self.
And then many of a good man's unworthy acts will
be seen to have begun and ended with his body,
and will pass away, not affecting his soul. Many
more, that have injured it, will have been pardoned
by repentance, and the wounds of his soul will have
been perfectly healed by the Precious Blood. Many
a magnificent soul is cramped and dwarfed in a
child's body, and death prevents the world ever
knowing its greatness. Many a highly endowed soul
is crippled and crushed within the imperfect organi-
sation of the idiot, or the savage. Many a beautiful
soul lies hid now beneath an imlovely body, and is
being beautified yet more and more by daily conflict,
daily victory, daily spiritual gifts; and the daily
imitation of CHRIST will at last produce a soul
transformed into the likeness of CHRIST; so that
all the members of the Family of GOD will bear
similar features, and be seen and recognised by all
a,s the children of the same great Father ; themselves
evidently brethren of the Only Begotten of GOD,
Christ Jesus.
Sefaentf) Suntrag after SCrinitg.
THE SECRET OF MAN'S POWER.
It was said of man long ago that he is a paradox.
There is contradiction in almost every part of his
nature. He seems to be two or more persons, rather
than one. His one self regards his other self, as it
were, from a distance. He can speak of himself as
if he were altogether outside. He is annoyed with
himself; surprised, angry, impatient, with himself.
He tries to persuade himself, and often fails. He
is carried away into actions of which he disapproves,
till he cries out in amazement and despairing vexa-
tion, "That which I do, I allow not; for what I
would, that do I not ; but what I hate, that do I."
Man is lord of the world, the highest animal in
creation, yet in many respects how inferior he is
to what he calls the lower animals ! Most of them
come to maturity much sooner than he. He is
helpless at birth, and cannot provide himself with
sustenance for years. His body needs artificial
protection and prepared food, while other animals
have no such requirements. He is powerless
against the elements and the attacks of many
very inferior creatures, which destroy his food and
bring his laborious creations to an end.
But side by side with all this weakness, see
the almost infinite power that man exercises. He
subdues and governs the world. Vegetables and
animals he takes as he wills, and from them main-
36 1
262 ^ciicnt^ ^utttian after Wvinit^,
tains his own vital powers. He cultivates both,
improves them, and makes them better than he finds
them. He tills the ground with wonderful skill,
and makes the desert to blossom as the rose. He
ransacks the treasures of the earth, and makes it
yield its minerals for his purposes. His ships tra-
verse the pathless and tempestuous ocean. Steam
is made his slave, and helps him to annihilate dis-
tance, and to doubt whether any difficulty is in-
surmountable. He can speak irrespective of distance
by the telegraph. He reads the bygone history of
the world, and penetrates into the star-depths of
infinite space. Every victory over nature is made
an advanced station and the base of still further
operations, and there seems no limit to the possi-
bihties of his progress and dominion.
Now, have we ever thought what is the secret of
man's power; why it is that, with all his natural
frailty and disadvantages, he can do such great
things; why he is at the same time so weak and
yet so strong ? It will be said it is his mental power
that gives him superiority over mere brute force.
This is true, yet we have not yet touched the root of
the matter. Is it not this, that man, though himself
small and weak, 3^et is endowed with the faculty
of discovering and of directing for his own purposes
the vast powers of nature ? The universe seems
to be an infinite storehouse of gigantic forces;
cultured man observes, reasons, acts, and finds that
he can get behind these tremendous forces, and
direct them very much as he pleases. The animal
is tossed about by the elements, but learns nothing,
and presently is killed by them. The savage man
is terrified, and worships and tries to propitiate
what he fancies are malignant deities. The primeval
sage watched the heavenly bodies, and, filled with
admiration and awe, imagined that they ruled the
world and man. He noticed the strange instincts
^eirent^ ^utttra^ after l^r:ttxt|r. 263
of animals, and seeing in them that which he cannot
find in himself, he thought he could detect under-
lying divinity, and raised altars to these unknown
gods.
But now we have got beyond all this. We search
out the great laws of nature, and know that they
may be depended upon, and we use and direct them
as a man uses and guides his horse. It is nothing
that the powers of nature can crush us; we take
care not to stand in their way ; but we contrive that
what seems in opposition should be converted into
a help ; just as the weight of the bird, which alone
would bring it to the ground by gravitation, and the
force of the wind, which alone would drive it back,
are made by the bird's instinct to act together upon
it so that the resultant of the opposite forces is
effective in propeUing the bird onward.
Such, then, is man's power. He learns what are
the laws of nature, and although he is unable to
resist them or to alter them, he has wisdom to use
them for his purposes, and to make them work for
him as his slaves.
Nor is this quite all that is done on this principle.
The men whose names stand out in history are, for
the most part, those who by skill or by accident have
headed some great movement, that had become para-
mount and irresistible, like a law of nature. Attila,
and such-Hke leaders of the incoming hosts of in-
vaders, would have been powerless but for the
mysterious impulse that drove those hosts from their
homes to seek new countries. Mahomet and his
successors, Godfrey and his Crusaders, Napoleon,
Garibaldi, the Free Traders, and other successful
leaders were one and all borne on the crest of a
great wave, that they themselves did not originate.
Luther, Wesley, Newman, in like manner, were but
centres round which a great idea moved, which had
gradually grown up in men's minds, and which
264 ^^irctttlr ^utttrag after ^rinit^.
could not be kept down. They merely directed the
gigantic force, being the nominal heads and leaders
of what thousands desired and determined to have.
This principle is found also in individual life and
experience. Successful men are not always the
most gifted or the most deserving, but it has hap-
pened that they have caught a great tide-wave at
its flood, and upon it have been borne on to fortune.
All this applies to religion and the spiritual life.
Man is endowed with a certain amount of force ;
he may direct it almost as he will, or he may let it
run to waste. The athlete directs it to his muscular
development ; the scholar, the inventor, the writer,
uses up all his power in brain- work. So the saint
concentrates all his natural endowments to the
spiritual energies of his constitution. Some of the
most remarkable Christians have in early life been
active and successful in mere secular pursuits. St.
Augustine before his conversion was a clever ad-
vocate; Loyola was a brilliant soldier; and many
others inherited good blood and great mental powers
which would have made them distinguished in some
other walk of life, if they had not been great mission-
aries, or reformers, or men of high spiritual advance-
ment. A child with strong passions and energies
will almost certainly become a man different from
the common run of men. His powers may be
directed for good or for evil. There is plenty of
raw material ; it depends upon influences about him
what the manufactured result will be.
Nor is this quite all. Beside the innate powers
of the individual there is a vast storehouse of energ}'
that the soul may make use of. There is the cor-
porate life of the Church ; there are the powers of
the unseen world ; there is the mighty influence of
the Holy Spirit and the infinite grace of CHRIST
— all these are at the disposal of the Christian soul ;
and, feeble as it may be in itself, by these means it
^tiientlj ^untta^ aft^r l^rxntt^. 265
may do greatest things. So St. Paul says, ** I can \-^^^d^^4<
do all things through CHRIST, which strengtheneth j ' '^*
me." So prayer has been said to be the instrument
that moves the Hand that rules the world. So
Sacraments are efficacious beyond all imagining;
the poor act on earth being united with the infinite
act of the great High Priest before the throne Who
ever liveth to make intercession. So small begin-
nings develop into glorious and widespread institu-
tions, like the lad's barley loaves placed in the hand
of Christ, sufficient to feed thousands.
We are not apostles like St. Paul, but with him
we may say, ^' I can do all things through CHRIST,
which strengtheneth me." Innate faults and failings
may be conquered ; graces and gifts may be obtained ;
works beyond our unaided strength may be accom-
plished, by the appropriation and direction of the
great spiritual influences that are within our reach ;
just as men do such wonders by the aid of steam,
and electricity, and gravitation, and the other great
powers of nature.
CJigfjtf) Suutiag after Erinitu,
FALSE PROPHETS.
The Church selects our Lord's words for to-day's
gospel which warn us against false pit)phets. Let
us try and see what they mean. Very likely it may
seem to some persons that they are obsolete and
meaningless in the present day. ^' Prophecy has
ceased," they will say; '^prophets true and false
are of the past, historical personages, and nothing
more." But those who say this are mistaken ; and
their mistake probably arises from a very modern
and narrow idea of the meaning of the words ^' pro-
phets " and '' prophecy," as used in the Bible. Liter-
ally a prophet is merely a person who speaks in
another's name. In Holy Scripture it means one
who speaks in GOD's name. In GOD all truth re-
sides. All that man knows comes from GoD; and
the person who teaches his fellow-men is a prophet.
Moses, Samuel, David, and many others, teachers
of God's ancient people, were called prophets. Even
the wise among the heathen were prophets of GOD.
They had some knowledge of the great eternal
verities which GOD had originally imparted to man ;
they kept much to themselves, and left the people
dark and ignorant ; but when they imparted know-
ledge they were God's prophets, and St. Paul calls
them so in his Epistle to Titus.
In the primitive Church there were some who by
the Spirit of GOD predicted future events, but there
OHijjljtlT <^itittia^ after Wxinit^, 267
were also preachers and teachers whom the same
Spirit enlightened and moved to speak and exhort,
and lead men in the right way ; and they were also
called prophets, and their utterances were styled
prophesyings ; and these terms were used in that
sense, at least by the educated, till quite recent times.
A false prophet, then, is one who teaches that
which is not true. Truth is one, and every phase
of it is precious. Error is manifold, and always
harmful. All true science, all discovery, all inven-
tion, is but a Httle of GOD's truth and knowledge
imparted by some teacher or prophet to his fellovvr-
men. The Astronomer, the Geologist, the Chemist,
is in this sense a prophet. So was the inventor of
printing; so were the men who gave us the steam-
engine ; musicians, painters, nay, all thinkers, all
workers, any one who has gifts and powers, and
uses them for his fellow-men's benefit, is, in a broad
sense, a prophet of GoD, one who has received
something from GOD's hand, and who imparts it to
others ; a channel to communicate some small rill
to man, from the infinite ocean of the fulness of the
wisdom and knowledge of GOD.
But there are, and always have been, false
prophets ; men who teach error, either wilfully or
ignorantly ; wilfully, like the priests of the old-world
religions, who knew that GOD was one, spiritual, holy,
yet led the people in their worship of imaginary
deities, animals, stocks and stones ; wilfully, like
Jeroboam's prophets, who, to keep the people from
their rightful king, persuaded them to worship the
golden calf at Bethel ; wilfully, like many since,
the tools of kings and cunning men, who have
devised new religions, or new sects for political
purposes, or through ambition, or some other
unworthy motive. Ignorantly, like the majority
of false teachers ; ignorant, yet not less mis-
chievous ; ignorant, but not innocent, teaching half-
286 (Bi^Jtlj ^uttban after ^viniUu
truths, or errors founded on a truth, or perversions
of some truth, or some phase of truth without its
counterbalance that keeps it from being untrue.
There is a vulgar notion that belief is Httle so \
long as practice is right. A Httle reflection must I
show how erroneous and mischievous such a theor}'
must be. Men's actions depend upon, and originate
from, their belief Men generally justify their acts
to themselves, and persuade themselves that they
are right for them, according to their ideas of right
and wrong. Some of the greatest crimes have been
perpetrated on this principle, and many a terrible
calamity has befallen people because of the ignorance
or mistake of some one else. Those awful scourges
of the earth who have gathered and led huge armies,
and massacred thousands, and shed blood like water,
and desolated the face of the earth, and made
those miserable whom GOD intended to be happy,
have persuaded themselves that they were acting
nobly. Attila called himself the '' Scourge of GOD."
Mahomet proclaimed that he alone was God's prophet.
Napoleon maintained that his wars were forced
upon him, and that his motives were disinterested !
Our Lord declared that those who persecuted His
disciples to the death would think they were doing
what was well-pleasing to GOD. Saul of Tarsus was
quite sure that he was doing what was right and
pleasing to GOD when he was martyring the first
Christians. The most extravagant and mischievous
theories in politics and religion are defended, and
firmly believed to be true and right, by their authors
and maintainers. The most degraded religions, the
silliest of sects, seem good and worthy to some
minds. A reasonable being does not do wrong till
liis mind has been biassed.
MisbeHef, then, is the root and source of almost
all misdeeds. A wrong belief, therefore, is worse
than a wrong act, for it can produce any number of
(Biglrtlj Smittau after OUrtttit^. 269
wrong acts. So our language calls a bad man a
*' miscreant/' which is literally a man with a wrong
belief or creed. Even Satan quoted Scripture when
he tempted our LORD. The Bible is true, yet all
false prophets defend their errors by it. St. Paul
says they did so even in his day ; he says that
Scripture may be *' wrested/' misunderstood, per-
verted to bad and dangerous purposes ; just as
everything, however good it may be, may be abused
and turned into evil.
But the Bible is not the sole and only exponent
of truth, and there are many false prophets who
draw but little of their teaching from the Bible.
Some people will swallow anything that they fancy
is authorised by the Bible, and many more seem
to think that anything must be true which they
find in a book or newspaper. It has been said
that the Pulpit has had its day, and that the Press
has taken its place. This cannot be really, but
practically it may be, and it is. If multitudes with-
draw themselves from the influence of the Pulpit,
and guide their belief and practice by the ncAvs-
paper, then it is so for them. Many who are
afraid of being priest-ridden are stupidly press-
ridden. The newspaper is their library, their
teacher, their source of light and truth, their
Bible, their Church. The press arrogates to itself
an irresponsible despotism. It claims infallible
judgment. It judges everything human and divine,
and proclaims itself above all error. And yet nearly
every newspaper declares that its opponent is
wrong. It is strange that men are so led by news-
papers. They would think little of the writer's
opinion on any question if they talked with him ;
but when his anonymous article appears in the
paper it commands attention and influences opinion.
This anonymous character of journalism is one of its
worst features. It is a secret, irresponsible power,
2 70 (BtQhth ^utttra^ after ^vinit^.
that stabs in the dark and will not come out into
the open day. It claims for itself the title of the
" Fourth Estate/' but it is practically merely one
of the trades of the day. Its real object is to make
money. It is a mere commercial undertaking, like a
shop or a company. It produces, therefore, what "will
pay best. It has no principle but success, no limit
but failure. It is like some of the despotisms of old,
and uses the same secret, unjust means to secure
its ends, force, suppression of defence, entire sel-
fishness.
Many of our m.ost thoughtful writers lament the
modern system of anonymous newspapers. J. S.
Mill, a man of no religion, said, ^'They cannot
wait for success; and so they address themselves
to existing opinions, instead of trying to improve
them." C. Kingsley, a very liberal man, and what is
called a '* Broad Churchman," wrote : " The Press,
t.e.y men who, having often failed in regular labour
of any kind, estabhsh themselves as anonymous
critics of all who labour, under an irresponsibility
and an immunity which no despot ever enjoyed.
Professing to speak the mind of the people, they
live by pandering to its no-mind, i.e., its merest
fancies and prejudices. I see a possibility of all
government becoming as impossible in England as
it has been for two generations at least in France."
" The liberty of the Press " is a much-vaunted
privilege, but liberty often means license, and still
more often it does not exist, for the people at
large have really no opportunity of publishing their
opinions ; the newspapers being open only to their
own party, and to those who buy the privilege with
money. The majority of thinking men have no
chance of making themselves heard. True libert}^
gives equal rights to all.
It is said that Roger Bacon discovered gun-
powder, but he would not make it known, fearing
(Bt0ljtlT SuntJa^ after fcttitt^. 271
the terrible results that would come from it. The
discoverers of printing might well have had similar
anxieties, for it has wonderfully increased the power
of propagating evil. Day by day bad books pour
out from the press, and they sow seed that develops
into every sort of crime and every phase of human
misery and degradation.
We see, then, that this warning of our Lord's,
instead of being obsolete, has gained importance
and urgency as time has gone on. We cannot stop
human progress. We cannot alter the course of the
world. Men must choose their guide and teacher,
among the many who claim our attention. We arc,
free, and the prophets of the day, good and bad,
true and false, are free, and every one of us has to
make up his mind whom and what he will believe,
what is true, and what is false ; and this is often
very difficult. False teachers are plausible, and
have much to say for themselves. It is hard to
answer their arguments, and, besides, many men
have no leisure, no ability, to enter upon tedious
inquiries and searching investigations. Many follow
the lead of those whom they respect. Many con-
tinue in the position in which the}'' find themselves,
by birth or other circumstances. Error gains re-
spectability by the mere passing of time ; the longer
it exists, the greater its claim to consideration.
How, then, may we know the truth, and avoid
being misled by false prophets ? First we must
take it for certain that GOD has given a revelation
to man. If this is denied, there is no stable ground
to rest upon ; there are no such things as truth and
falsehood, right and wrong ; one opinion is as good
as another, and none can claim to be certain. Then
we must bear in mind that the Church is the pillar
and ground of the truth ; that the Church is GOD'S
prophet to teach mankind the truth that she has
received from GOD. Then wc must remember our
2 72 (Bi^hth Sunifa^ after €vinit}j.
Lord's test of false prophets, '' By their fruits ye
shall know them." Times and circumstances change,
but the broad principles of right and wrong do not
change. Old enemies appear again with new names.
Developments may take place, but the fundamental
principle may still be traced. The theories that
have spread degradation and ruin over the world,
that have sapped the foundations of society, that
have made men lose their faith in GOD and man,
that have upset order and made life intolerable,
these theories may be detected to-day in the teach-
ing of many false prophets, religious, political, social.
The atmosphere of Europe seems to be charged
with these influences, and sober Christian men fear,
as they look onward at those things that seem to
be coming upon the earth. It seems to them that
the way is being made for anarchy and universal
disorder and chaos, the breaking up of all that is
sacred, the coming in of confusion and desolation.
Our Lord foretold such a time, when His preach-
ing should be disregarded. His Church hated and
crushed, and His revelation trodden under foot.
His Gospel is the only cure for human ills ; it alone
can save the world, just as it alone can save the
individual soul. But false prophets are persuading
men to disregard it, and to act upon the principles
that it denounces ; and men believe them, and praise
their saying.
This we cannot alter. We are not lords of the
world ; but our hearts are our own. Let us see that
false prophets are not heard and obeyed there. Let
Christ and His Gospel rule and reign within, what-
ever may go on without ; so shall there be peace and
quietness there, however the world may stagger in
noisy confusion ; so shall we prepare ourselves for
the kingdom of GOD and His CHRIST, where truth
and light prevail, and where there is perpetual peace,
the peace of GOD, that passeth all understanding.
0tntl) .Suntiag after Ertnttu.
THE STEWARDSHIP OF MAN.
The parable of to-day's Gospel is usually under-
stood to be applicable to any ordinary steward, a
man placed in a position of authority and trust
under some wealthy person. The sphere of the
narrative is found in everyday life, and the char-
acters are such men as are commonly met with in
any community. But there seems to be another
and a higher and wider interpretation, that may
fairly be found in our LORD'S words, which is not
generally perceived. There is One so rich that all
things are His ; to Whom the world and all that is
therein rightfully belongs; but He has withdrawn
Himself, and appears not, and He has appointed a
steward to govern and manage for Him, giving him
power and authority.
This rich man is Almighty GOD, and his steward
is Man. We are told how GOD made man in His
own image ; that is, free, intelligent, capable of un-
derstanding the will and the works of GoD; how
He gave him dominion over the animals and power
to subdue the earth ; ability to discover the laws of
nature, and to direct the powers of the universe,
and make them his servants. The whole history
of mankind shows how all this has been fulfilled.
Man has brought the earth into subjection, and made
it his servant. Seeds and fruits have been culti-
vated, and wild things have been improved and
2 74 l^xntl; ^utttrag after Crinit^.
rendered more fitting for his use. In the same way
the animals have not only been made to work for
him, but their qualities have been developed, and
they have been made larger, stronger, more beautiful,
than they were originally. Then the metals have
been discovered and used ; tools and machines have
been constructed ; buildings have been erected, roads
made, ships built. The fine arts, Music, Painting,
Sculpture, have been cultivated, and beautiful works
have been elaborated. Science, learning, and mental
culture have grown and been perfected. Wonderful
discoveries have been made as to the history of the
earth and the nature of the universe ; Astronomy,
Geology, Chemistry, have opened boundless fields
of research. Printing and the Steam-engine have
actually changed the whole character of human life.
And every advance shows how much more may be
done, and proves that man's power in the world is
almost boundless. Even where his hand seemed to
be tied by the laws of nature, it is seen that he can
work his will ; and the sterile desert is surprised to
feel the sweet influence of the rain, when canals
and planting have changed the conditions and sur-
roundings : —
" Man He made of angel form erect,
/ To hold communion with the heavens above,
And on his soul impressed His image fair,
His own similitude of holiness.
Of virtue, truth, and love, with reason high
To balance right and wrong, and conscience quick
To choose or to reject ; with knowledge great,
Prudence and wisdom, vigilance and strength,
To guard all force or guile. And best of all,
The highest gift of God's abundant grace,
With perfect, free, unbiassed will. Thus man
Was made upright, immortal made,
The king of all."
Such, in fewest words, is a sketch of the powers
and prerogatives of man, as GOD's steward on the
0,mi\j §$unha^ after f^rtntt^. 275
earth. There seems scarcely a limit to that which
he can do. What he has done is wonderful ; but it
all forms but the foundation upon which to construct
more, the starting-point from which to initiate fresh
and greater discoveries; till one has said, *' Father of
the world, what moved Thee thus to exalt a poor
weak little creature of earth so high, that he stands
in light a far-ruling king, almost a god ; for he
thinks Thy thoughts after Thee."
But if the first part of the parable finds its fulfil-
ment in man's relation to GOD and to the world, the
second part is, unhappily, no less true. This steward
has ^^ wasted the goods" entrusted to him. We
have seen man's powers and prerogatives; and
when we look out upon the world and see what it
is, we are sure that he has wasted his opportunities
and misused his powers. If it were not so, the
world would be in a very different, a very much
better and happier condition than it is. Read the
history of any nation, and see how war has inflicted
injuries and miseries unnumbered upon it. Thou-
sands of men, in the full vigour of manhood, have
been taken away from useful employments, and
have been put to death, or rendered helpless and
dependent. Money, that might have been the in-
strument for effecting all sorts of beneficial improve-
ments, has been wasted in carrying on the work of
destruction. Neighbouring countries, that might
have assisted one another to promote their people's
welfare and happiness, have used all their skill and
energy to injure one another, and to bring ruin and
misery upon the people. Fertile lands have been
laid waste, smiling crops destroyed, beautiful build-
ings have been levelled to the ground, libraries,
containing the results of man's thoughts for ages,
have been consumed, and all the precious learning
has perished. These are some of the more evident
evils of war ; but there are manv more — indeed it is
276 l^itttl; ^utttraiT after Crinltlr.
hard to say where the results end, and what is the
sum of the injury done to man and his happiness
by war : —
" O what men dare do ! What men may do !
What men daily do, not knowing what they do ! "
But man's stewardship has other faults to show.
In modern times we boast of progress, vast trade,
manufacture, commerce. But there is another side
to the picture. Enormous populations have been
gathered together, with all the inevitable evil results.
Masses of idle and vicious people are found in the
low quarters of our towns, which constantly increase,
till the difficulty stares us in the face how all these
masses are to be fed, especially with diminishing:
trade and a smaller growth of food at home.
Then there are other failures of stewardship^loss ;
of opportunity to make improvements, neglect of the
use of knowledge, want of the cultivation of powers
that can make the world better, injury to animals
and natural productions, waste of good and precious
things of a thousand kinds, and much more ; all ;
justifying the indictment that man, as God's steward, \
has *' wasted His goods " and failed in his duty : —
" Each animal,
By natural instinct taught, spares his own kind :
But man, the tyrant man, revels at large,
Freebooter unrestrained, destroys at will
The whole creation ; men and beasts his prey,
Those for his pleasure, for his glor>' these."
When we see what has been done by one good '
man, or by a few earnest men banded together, we
understand better what might be done by a nation,
or by mankind at large, if they were really purposed
to reform abuses, and to do good and promote real
and true progress.
But the one model of stewardship is the Manj
littttlr ^ittttra^ aiitt Wxinit^. 277
I Christ Jesus. He came to do God's will. He
was faithful in all things. He was the second Adam,
under whose feet all things were put. The animals,
the elements, diseases, everything was subject to
Him — everything except man. And man rejected
Him, and put Him to death ; putting the final stroke
to his failure as steward ; for he did not recognise
his Master's Son.
Such, then, is the sad story of man's stewardship
of the world. There is one practical lesson to be got
from it. Each one of us is a steward under GOD.
We have gifts and powers, and we have to account
for the use that we make of them. Some have re-
ceived more, some less ; but all have received some-
thing — life, health, time, faculties. And the one dif-
ference between an ungodly and a godly life is the
sense of stewardship. One man rejoices in the
sense of liberty; he considers himself his own
master; he allows nothing to interfere with his
wishes. Another man always lives under a sense of
duty. He feels he has a Master, to Whom he owes
obedience and service, and his whole life is affected
by this perpetual thought of responsibility.
Let us ask ourselves to-day which of these two
kinds of life we are leading.
Eentlj Suntiag after ^Trtnitg.
THE HARDENED HEART.
There is perhaps a feeling of impatience and irri-
tation sometimes in the minds of those who come
to church, when they hear, Sunday after Sunday,
the Old Testament Lessons, and find their thoughts
so constantly and repeatedly directed to the history
of the Israelites. ^' What are these old-world records
to us ? " they complain ; ^' we are nineteenth century
men and w^omen; what interest or profit can be
created in our minds and hearts by hearing the say-
ings and doings of an ignorant, narrow-minded, semi-
barbarous people, who lived in a corner of the world
long ago, and who had scarcely a thought in com-
mon with us in this age of progress and light ? "
Now, this objection would be valid and unan-
swerable if our churches were lecture-halls, and if
people came to them to be interested or amused, or
even to be instructed in the most recent vagaries of
mental speculation, in the latest theories of science, or
in the newest discoveries of mechanics or chemistry.
But this is not the case. We come to church, first
of all, because we owe GOD honour and worship ;
and then, having rendered to Almighty GOD our
homage, and having made our prayers to Him for
our daily needs, temporal and spiritual, we are
instructed in moral and spiritual truths, and our
thoughts are withdrawn from the routine of this
passing life, and directed to the eternal verities that
278
^cnth ^xnttJan after Cnnttij. 279
concern our higher nature, and the life beyond these
short and changeful scenes.
The history of Israel, then, is most suitable for our
learning. This people lived in constant and most
intimate relations with GOD. They were separated
from all other nations, and were ruled by other and
higher principles. Everything about them, from the
government of the whole State down to the daily
duties of the humblest individual, was regulated with
direct reference to Almighty GOD. Some nations
made their chief business war and conquest, and
everything was subordinated to this leading idea.
Others were trading communities. Culture and
art were paramount objects of pursuit elsewhere.
In our own day what is generally termed Progress
is the great aim of European States. But with
ancient Israel none of those ends were desired or
pursued. There were no manufactories ; there was
no shipping, no trade. The arts and sciences were
ignored. There was no desire of conquest. The
nation was settled down in a small, quiet, sheltered
territory, and was occupied in agriculture and pas-
toral pursuits, without ambition and v/ithout intel-
lectual greatness.
But insignificant and inferior as the Israelites
were, compared with other peoples, in material great-
ness and mental cultivation, they stood alone, and
far above the rest of the world, in their knowledge
of the great principles of right and wrong, in their
theories of life and duty, and in all that concerns
the spiritual element in man's nature. It was said
to them, " Ye shall be unto Me a kingdom of
priests ; " that is, each man was brought near to
God, intimate with GOD, ever face to face with Him,
admitted to the position confined elsewhere to the
priestly caste.
We are apt to forget this; and familiar as we
are with the Old Testament, we do not notice how
2 8o f^tntlr ^untraff after f^riitttj.
terribly degraded the other and more prominent
nations of the world were, as compared with that
little people to whom it was entrusted, and who
were guided by its precepts. The marvellous light
that came into the moral and spiritual world by
Jesus Christ was really an unfolding and expan-
sion of the knowledge already possessed by the
children of Abraham. It is therefore fit and wise
that the exhortation daily made to them should
still be daily made to us, " To-day, if ye will hear
His voice, harden not your hearts."
That wonderful people failed to rise to their high
destiny. We too may fail. Prophets continually
arose, and spoke to them in the name of GOD,
exhorting, reproving, threatening, promising; and
the Church now inherits and exercises the prophetic
office, and still finds the old words most suitable
for her purpose, and still echoes the old-world cr}^,
•' To-day, if ye will hear His voice, harden not your
hearts."
It is incomprehensible to us, as we read the
old story, how that people could have acted as they
did. When Moses first called them to strike for
liberty, and showed them his power and the helping
Hand of GOD, they meanly turned back to their
degrading servitude, not manly enough to suffer a
little, that they might be free. All through their
wanderings they played the same unworthy part.
When they were at last settled in their inherit-
ance, the}^ were for ever falling away and debasing
themselves. We marvel as we read their annals.
They were spoken to so plainly ; they were directed
so unmistakably; and yet they went wrong. The
higher and nobler path was straight on before their
eyes, but they swerved aside into crooked ways,
that only led downwards to ruin. And to-day they
stand forth before the eyes of mankind, a living
lesson, a silent, eloquent, warning to all who will hear
feittlr ^nnU^ after Wvinit^. 281
and understand. A Hand ever points to the Jew,
and a Voice cries to all God's children, reasonable,
free, immortal, ^' To-day, if ye will hear His voice,
harden not your hearts."
How did they harden their hearts ? How are
we in danger of such-like hardening ? First actual
sin did it to them, and may do it to us. Their Law
was holy, just, and good, but they transgressed it,
following instead the lower animal law of instinct.
We too have a Law of life, higher, purer, clearer,
than that of Sinai ; and men and women neglect it,
outrage it, and as they do so their poor hearts
harden, till they become beasts' hearts, and they
can in no wise lift up themselves. There is a vague
sense of the presence of GOD in the world. There
is a feeling that the eye of the pure CHRIST is upon
us. There is an atmosphere still of Christianity,
even in the midst of its rejection and its perversion ;
and all this causes shame at open evil-doing ; but
it does not stop secret evil-doing. Every now and
then the veil is lifted, and in law-courts and in whis-
pered scandals that which is going on is made known,
and we do not wonder that men's and women's hearts
have grown hard whose daily living is such as we
learn it is. The strong man armed keepeth his
palace ; he warns off the messengers who would
disturb the deadly peace of his subjects. The good
seed falls on a hardened highway ; then cometh the
devil and taketh away the Word, lest they should
be converted.
The Gospel to-day reminds us that the Temple
must be cleansed of its thievish tenants before
the Christ will teach daily there. Even the Old
Testament prophet knew and said that the Spirit
of God cannot dwell in a heart that is given to
sin. David, v/ith all his high spirituality, through
one gross sin, lived a whole year with a hardened
-heart, impenitent. Till men have heard the Baptist
282 ^£tttlr ^utttran after Crmtt^.
preach repentance; and have been baptized of him,
confessing their sins, they cannot become the dis-
ciples of Christ. They have not even the wish to
be saved from their sins. Let us say it boldly —
much of the so-called scepticism and unbelief of the
day is but the natural outgrowth of unrepented
sin. There is no match for that in making the
heart hard and keeping CHRIST at arm's-length.
Men and sects invent all sorts of substitutes, but
God's rule stands now, as it has ever stood un-
alterably, '' He that leadeth a godly Hfe, he shall
be My servant."
Next, perhaps, there comes mere frivolity, aimless
butterfly-living, smiling, lounging, joking, sneering,
being amused, drifting hither and thither with any cur-
rent, life without purpose, without duty, without sacri-
fice, impatient of anything serious, ever changeful,
never looking upwards, but only around at things and
persons that flit by each moment. There seems
nothing malignant in this sort of life, but it has won-
drous power to harden men's and women's hearts,
and to prevent them " from hearing God's voice.
Try and move these people to do anything for GoD
or man, anything unselfish, any self-sacrifice, any-
thing CHRIST-Iike, and you will soon see how hard
those hearts are that beat in the full Hght of their
much-vaunted culture.
Neglect of GOD's own means for keeping the soul
alive, and the conscience quick is another sure
means of hardening the heart. GOD's voice is
heard, speaking by man's lips. GOD'S prophet
comes and saj^-s, " I have a message for thee ; " but
the man's companions sneer and say, ''Wherefore
came this mad fellow to thee ? " Herod sends for
the Baptist, and hears him gladly ; but Herodias
and her daughter soon put a stop to that. Felix
hears, and trembles. Agrippa is almost persuaded.
But they do not like it, and they do not put them-
€tnth ^utttra^ after tentt^. 283
selves in the way of such experiences again. To-day
people go to church once a week, if it is quite con-
venient. They often go away before the sermon,
lest they should hear a word from GOD, and be
turned from sin and self and the world to their
true Lord. They never read their Bibles. They
do not give ten minutes a week to serious thoughts.
They do not pray, and examine their conscience,
and confess their sins and failures before they lie
down to sleep. They keep away from the Holy
Communion. What can happen but that their
hearts should be hardened ? It is but one of
nature's inevitable laws. Let the skilful musician
lay aside his instrument for but a few weeks, and
he will tell you that his hands begin to lose their
cunning. What becomes of our school and college
Latin and Greek when we have been a few years
in the army, in the office, or in some other employ-
ment ? It is a law of nature that use strengthens,
that neglect weakens, our powers. Is there no similar
law that rules our moral and spiritual nature ? Do
we not see — ay, do we not know by sad experi-
ence — that there is such a law ?
To-day, then, hear His voice, lest your hearts be
hardened, till you cannot hear. He speaks in your
hearts more often than into your ears. The voice
of conscience reproves, rebukes, exhorts. God's
voice is heard otherwhere than in Church. Some-
times it shames us at the sight of men — better men
than ourselves. Sometimes it warms and stirs the
still-living good within us, and makes us say, " I
will turn over a new leaf." Sometimes there comes
a thought, we know not whence, that haunts and
possesses us, and tells us that we were made for
better things, and that we are living unworthily.
Sometimes there comes a deep sense of guilt, and
the words rise unconsciously to our lips, ^' GOD be
merciful to me, a sinner." Some have made their
284 Wtnth ^untra^ after ^ntttt^.
hearts very hard already. GOD's voice sounds
dimly, as the deaf and the old scarcely hear what is
said. And of some there seems no hope ; for they
are as though they had lost all spiritual sense, all
desire for light and life and GOD. But oh ! if still
you can hear, then there is hope and life yet. Be
your response, '' Speak, LORD, for Thy servant
heareth ; " and what He saith unto you, that do.
The steps upward must be taken one by one.
Take the step to-day which His Hand points out
to you.
(Elebeutl) Suntias after Ertnitg.
THE BROOK IN THE WAY,
There is a unanimous testimony among critics that
the one hundred and tenth Psalm relates to CHRIST.
Hebrew commentators and Christians alike find the
Messiah in it. Ancient writers and modern are
here agreed. Our LORD quotes the psalm, and
applies it to Himself. St. Paul in his Epistles, St.
Luke in the Acts, and the writer of the letter to the
Hebrews all ascribe it to David, and interpret it
without hesitation as prophetic of CHRIST. Some
of the early Jewish writers say that it depicts the
Messiah as an earthly victor, pursuing His van-
quished enemies, and pausing for a moment to
quench His thirst at a mountain torrent, and then
hurrying on again, refreshed and strengthened, for the
more complete slaughter of His flying foes. Christian
commentators are more disposed to discover the won-
derful humiliation of the Son of GOD ; how in His
Incarnation He stooped very low, and how GOD has
exalted Him as Man ; how " He made Himself of no
reputation, and took upon Him the form of a ser-
vant, and being found in fashion as a man. He
humbled Himself, and became obedient unto death,
even the death of the Cross, wherefore God hath
highly exalted Him, and given Him a name which
is above every name, that at the name of JesuS
every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and
things in earth."
a85
286 (Bkhctttlj .^nttiia^ after Crniit^.
But there seems to be another and yet more
practical force in the last words of the psalm, a
holding up of the Man CHRIST Jesus as our pat-
tern and exemplar, a setting before us the great
truth that as He was, so must we be in the world ;
a teaching us how to live the CHRIST-Iike life now,
that we may be where He is hereafter, and share
the glory of His exaltation.
The Christian solution of the great riddle of life
is found in CHRIST, the incarnate GoD, the perfect
Man. In that Life of our life all phases of human
life find their exemplar. The Christian ascetic takes '>*^^
Christ as His model; he learns from Him to for-
sake father and mother, to be ignorant of the sweet
solace of wife and child, to toil and suffer for others,
to bow his will to obedience, to sacrifice his liberty,
to crucify the flesh with its affections and lusts. He
has not the cold, hard, self-seeking mortification of
the Oriental recluse; his self-sacrifice makes him
sweet and gentle, gracious and helpful to others and
to the world; he compels none to do as he does;
he despises not those who follow another rule ; he
loves, respects, honours all, but he is more than
content with his chosen lot, for he feels that he has
accepted his Lord's call to his heart, " Follow Me ; "
and as he follows closer and closer, his heart burns,
he is amazed, he has consolations that words cannot
express, he has heaven already, for he is with GOD'j" -
and God with him.
But equally the Christian man living in the world
takes Christ as his model. In his work he finds
companionship with Jesus the Carpenter. In friend-
ship he imitates Jesus Who loved Lazarus and
Martha and Mary and John and Peter. To his
marriage-feast he invites the Guest Who sat at the
bridal banquet at Cana. His children he brings
to Him Who took little ones up in His arms and
blessed them. In his troubles he makes a friend
(Bicbtnth ^nnba^ after Critttt^. 287
and confidant of the Man of Sorrows ; and he can
find solace also in kindly human intercourse, as
Jesus sought the friendly roof at Bethany when
enemies compassed Him about, and His hour of
darkness was lowering down upon Him.
Man and woman, the busy, the silent sufferer,
rich and poor, learned and ignorant, the first age
and the nineteenth century, all sorts and conditions
of Christian men, find in CHRIST their model and
pattern, and, following Him, pass through life safely
and with peace, threading the devious ways led by
a clue palpable only to each by himself. His eye,
His voice. His footsteps. His Spirit.
The last verse of this psalm is a parable of such
a Hfe. See how full it is ; how much is implied in
these few words, '' He shall drink of the brook in
the way." This life, then, is not an end, but only-
a way, a journey, a pilgrimage. The Christian man
finds his father and progenitor in Abraham, the man
of faith, the homeless, landless wanderer, called out
and going he knows not whither, his only property
a grave. The world to him is not a home, but, as it
were, an inn, and he a ^^ guest that tarrieth but a day."
The child looks on, and life seems inexhaustible,
and he is eager for the joys that seem to lie in long-
drawn vistas, and to be without bound or end.
But the mature see how many of those bright
visions fade, as the mirage of the desert fades ; how
some transform themselves into sorrows ; how short
and transient the actual and the best are. And he
who is taught of GOD is not angry, or soured, or
even disappointed ; he knew what to expect. The
traveller knows the inconveniences and pains of
travel. The Christian knows that he is ''in the
way," and does not expect home-comforts.
And more than this; being ''in the way," that
is, on a journey, implies fatigue. Those who have
travelled for pleasure know the inevitable penalty
2 88 (Bh\3znih ^unJra^ after tenxtj.
of weariness. How much more do other travellers
have to endure ! The soldier on the march, the
sailor upon the storm-tossed ocean, the emigrant,
the scientific explorer; even the man of business.
Jesus, w^e are told, was weary, footsore, and travel-
stained while He went on His mission-journeys.
And if His poor body was so tired, how much more
must His human. soul have sickened with weary
pain ! And so He cries, " Oh, faithless and perverse
generation, how long shall I be with you ? how long
shall I suffer you ? "
And we, who are " in the way " now, do we not
know what weariness of the spirit is ? Do we not
sometimes long for rest? The worries, the daily
troubles of life, the disappointed hopes, the in-
firmities of the body, the unkindness of the world,
the giving up of hope, the impatience with our our-
selves, the heart's bitterness that is hugged and
hidden, and that our dearest friend wots not, — do
not these make us very weary sometimes ?
Then this " drinking of the brook in the way "
implies thirst. Jesus, weary with His journey, sat
beside the well at Sychar, and longed for a draught
of water, which He could not get. jESUS, upon the
Cross, cried in His last agony, *' I thirst," and no
one gave Him water; but one thrust roughly against
His sore Hps a sponge filled with smarting vinegar
and bitter gall.
We must understand the exigencies of Oriental
travel in order to know the full meaning of this
thirst, and what it symboHses — the dryness of
spirit, the insatiable thirst for something wanted
but not obtainable, the painful instinct within, that
craves incessantly, instantly, for some solace that
nothing of this world's best can soothe or satisfy.
*' My soul is athirst for GOD ; " the ^' hunger and
thirst after righteousness," these come to those who
are ''in the way," and only those who have ex-
(Bhbtnih ^nnha^ after fetttt^. 289
perienced them know what they are ; the thirst of
the soul that is dried up Hke a potsherd ; the heart
that is wounded within, and is shedding its Hfe's
blood upon the Cross, as it seems, forsaken of GOD.
But is this all ? Thank GOD, no. Let us hear
David's prophetic words again, ^'He shall drink ofl
the brook in the way ; therefore shall he lift up his
head." The weary man then finds rest ; the thirsty
kneels by the cool, gushing brook, and the water is
more delicious to him than the most precious juice
of the grape. New life comes to him as he drinks,
and lifts him up again, ready and brave for his
journey.
Yes, yes ; human life is not all shadow, all pain,
all sorrow. Men would not cling to life, as they
do, if it were so. Even the aged, the stricken with
torturing disease, desire to live a little longer. Life
at its worst is still life, and human instinct knows
it is good : —
" The weariest and most loathed worldly life
That age, ache, penury, imprisonment.
Can lay on nature, is a paradise
To what we fear of death."
If each heart knows its own bitterness, there is
also for each a joy that no stranger intermeddleth
with. There are not many ecstatic joys. There
are not many days or even hours of unmixed happi-
ness and joy, but how much quiet pleasure does the
most ordinary life afford ! Of how many may it not
be said —
" Along the cool, sequestered vale of life, )
They keep the noiseless tenor of their way " !
There is not the costly sumptuous banquet of
delicacies, of rare viands and mellowed wines, but
there is the ^'drinking of the brook in the way."
Are not these some of life's pleasant experiences,
T
290 ^khetttlr ^titttra^ after S^rittit^.
the love of relations and friends, the quiet, restful
security of home, sleep, health, nature's beauties,
travel, reading, music, peace, modern culture ? —
" The times we live in, evermore too great
To be apprehended."
Then, besides these common daily satisfactions,
each of us has his own special tastes and gratifica-
tions, that make many a bright hour in our every-
day life. We are apt to forget these good things,
and not to value them duly till we lose them.
The absence of pain, the unconsciousness with which
limbs and organs fulfil their functions, telling that
all is well — this is remembered with surprise when
pain haunts us, when we cannot do what once was
matter-of-course. Sight, hearing, digestion, full use
of limbs and faculties, the bounding elasticity of
youth, the mental and bodily vigour of middle life,
these are hardly valued as they deserve while they
are our own, but are seen to be good indeed when
we are deprived of them.
Let us try to be wise, then, and take a bright and 1
grateful view of life as it passes, pausing a moment i
sometimes to think, and thank GoD for these com- [
mon things, " drinking of the brook in the way, and ?
so Hfting up our heads : " —
" Such happy hearts are wandering, crystal clear,
In the great world where men and women dwell ;
Earth's mighty shows they neither love nor fear ;
They are content to be ; while I rebel.
Out of their own delight dispensing cheer,
And ever softly whispering, ' All is well.' "
Let us take a graver thought from all this. There
is a tendency in the present day to be greedy of
pleasure, to pitch our tent, as it were, by the brook-
side, and waste time in idle dreaming, if not in
wanton pleasure long drawn out, till pleasure ceases
to gratify, and brings satiety and nausea : —
(Bhbtnih ^utttra^ after Crintt^. 291
" If all the year were playing holidays, /
To sport would be as tedious as to work." '
For,
" A man of pleasure is a man of pains."
The wiser pilgrim drinks, and passes on; rests
awhile, then rises, and breasts the hill, and plods
steadily over the long plain, looking onward ever to
the end, his home.
Nor must we forget that the soul needs rest and \
refreshment ^'in the way." ^' If any man thirst, let I
him come unto Me and drink." Israel found waterJ
in the desert, issuing from the rock ; and for us that
Rock is Christ. *' Come unto Me," He says, " ye
that are weary, and I will refresh you;" for He
Himself is ^' the Way." So we come duly with faith
and obedience to His holy Table ; there we '' drink
of the brook in the way, and therefore lift up our \
heads." We turn aside out of the busy ways of
life for a little while, and rest, and are quiet, like
Mary at the feet of our LORD. We meet Him, as
He has promised, '' when two or three are gathered
together in His name," and return to the dusty,
noisy thronged thoroughfares of the world, '^ carry-
ing music in our hearts," sustained in all the great-
ness of the way, neither weary nor faint, able to
endure to the end.
STtoelftf) Stmtias after Ermitg.
THE PROPHETIC OFFICE.
Ahab's denunciation of Micaiah, '' I hate him, for
he doth not prophesy good concerning me, but evil/'
is a very common, because a perfectly natural senti-
ment. Self-love is universal, and any person who!
wounds it is liable to be disliked. Human nature'
enjoys to be flattered. Praise is sweet, even if
conscience says it is not deserved. The bearer of
good tidings is always welcome, and there is an
involuntary aversion to the person who brings warn-
ing of coming misfortune.
Ahab had counted Elijah his enemy, for the same
reason that he hated Micaiah. Wealth and high
position make men espedally impatient of contra-
diction, rebuke, and warning of impending trouble.
They are "so tender of rebukes that words are
strokes, and strokes death to them." See a dog dis-
turbed when it has a bone, or is lying asleep in the
sun ; it resents the interference with its enjoyment ; it
is ready to snarl at or bite any one who meddles with
it. Just so mere animal human nature rejoices in
ease, pleasure, security, and resents the loss of these,
and turns with hatred and revenge upon the person
who deprives it of them.
Against this deep-seated feeling prophets of GOD,
moral teachers, and even friends of learning, of
progress, of reformation, have always to contend.
There is a phrase which describes their labours as
292
i^hrelftlr ^utttrag^ aittx tetttt^* 293
'^ uphill work ; " for just as gravitation steadily pulls
against the person who climbs uphill, or would carry
anything from a lower to a higher level, so the
downward tendency of human nature maintains an
increasing resistance to those who would raise it to
something above mere animalism. The little child
screams and fights its mother while she does what
is necessary for its health and development. The
boy looks upon his schoolmaster as his natural
enemy. The young man pours ridicule and con-
tempt on the friendly adviser, who warns him
against idleness, indulgence, and frivolity. The
ignorant hate new inventions. The degraded
oppose with brutal violence all attempts to purify
and ennoble their condition. The single-minded)
man or woman, who has no other object but toi
benefit others, has always to experience this insen-
sate opposition, and to suffer at the hands of those \
whom they try to help and improve. So well is
this understood, that men of the world excuse them-
selves from helping others by the plea that they will
get themselves into trouble. A Chinese proverb
says, ^^ Do no good, so shalt thou get no evil." It
is a common opinion among sea-going people that
it is unlucky to save a drowning man, for he will
become your enemy.
There is no advance in civilisation, in knowledge,
in invention, in morahty, that has not had to fight
and force its way to victory. There is not one
benefactor or reformer who has not had to suffer
pain and anxiety. There is no improvement that
has not cost its promoters sighs and tears and blood.
*' If the angel Gabriel were to come down from
heaven and head a successful raid against the most
abominable and unrighteous vested interests which
this poor old world groans under, he would most
certainly lose his character for many years, probably
for centuries, not only with the upholders of the said
294 ^ittdith ^tttttfa^ after Crttttt^.
vested interests, butwith the respect able mass of the
people he had delivered."
And that which goes on in communities happens
also in each human breast. All men are not gro-
velling, sensual, debased. There are noble aspira-
tions, restless longings, brilHant thoughts, that are
conceived in the hearts or minds of human beings
of every rank, and of every period of the world's
history ; and when these good and noble things
struggle for birth, they are met by counter powers
that would strangle them, and crush out the Hfe that
throbs and strains upward. Sometimes the man is
not equal to the demands made upon him. He has
genius, but slothfulness spoils all. He has talents,
but he gives way to bad habits and low companions ;
he has the aspirations of a saint, but the flesh is
weak, and he passes through hfe a very poor creature
after all. And nothing will so irritate such men as
reflection upon their besetting fault. The friend who,
with kindest intention, remonstrates ; the admirer
who sees the latent power, and would lend a helping
hand to remove the obstacle to its development ; the
loving heart that would rouse the being it adores to
take its due and proper place, these are counted as
enemies for their pains. Scientific moralists tell us
that we may most surely discover our besetting fault
by noticing what it is that we most bitterly resent
being interfered with ; what gives us most intolerable
pain when it is but hghtly struck.
So the truly great and noble are those who,
in spite of opposition within and without, have ,
struggled onwards and upwards to their ideal, who
have conquered the lower passions of their nature,
who have preferred duty to pleasure, what is right
to what is agreeable, what is high and noble to
mere indolent letting things alone ; who welcome himj
as friend who helps them to mend their faults, for
"A reproof entereth more into a wise man than'
fttoelftir ^itntra^ after tettit^. 29^
a hundred stripes into a fool ; " and ^^ They best can
bear reproof who merit praise : " —
" When we invite our best friends to a feast,
'Tis not all sweetmeats that we set before them ;
There's something sharp and salt, both to whet appetite
And make them taste their wine well ; so methinks,
After a friendly, sharp, and savoury chiding
A kiss tastes wondrous well."
But all men are not equal to this. The way of the
world is otherwise. Noah and Lot were mocked
and disregarded when they protested against the sins
of their day. Moses could not rouse his down-
trodden pountrymen to make a stand for liberty.
The whole succession of prophets had the thankless
duty of denouncing the popular vices, and trying to
recall Israel to its high vocation. How hard the
task was we may see from the case of Jonah,
who fled away rather than be the messenger of ill
tidings. And many a one in public and in private
life since has let evil take its course, too weak to
stand against the tide, too timid to rebuke, held back
by fear of the consequences of his interference.
That such fears are not unfounded our LORD'S
life proves. He came into the world, in one sense,
as a human prophet, a representative of GOD, not
merely to teach the truth, but to reprove error and
sin ; and His unflinching consistent testimony cost
Him His life. If He had appeared in Athens, or in
Rome, in Tyre, or in Babylon, His fate would have
been the same. He selected the time and the people
most likely to be favourable to Him ; but, after all,
the case was not jESUS with the Jews, but the
upright Man with the fallen world ; GOD confronted
with human nature. There was nothing specially
wicked in the prevailing sins of our Lord's time
among the Jews; there were worse countries and
deeper vices ; but as GOD'S Prophet, as a pure Man,
as a Patriot, as a Reformer, His task was to speak
296 Cittclftlr ^mba^ after i:rinttij.
evil concerning the evil-doers before His eyes ; and
this made the evil-doers hate Him.
John Baptist was martyred for the same cause.
And many after him had a similar experience. And
even where no rebukes are uttered, the silent protest
of a high and stainless life in the midst of general
laxity and vice will not be tolerated, but will cause
hatred and violence. Bad men will labour by every
means to corrupt a pure and innocent youth, and
like Joseph and Daniel and many more, men will
be hated only because they are better than those
around them.
Now, let us see the practical issue of all this as
it applies to ourselves and our own day. If this
principle of reformation is found in all ages of the
world, it must surely exist now. In point of fact it
not only exists, but it has been concentrated and
systematised. The CathoHc Church is the ever-
living embodiment of the principle of reformation.
The Church is CHRIST, perpetually living, preach-
ing, rebuking, and withal holding up a higher pattern
to raise human nature and to shame men into godli-
ness. Every prophet of the Old Testament is more
or less a type of the Church. The prophetic office
of the Church can never be in abeyance. She has
other functions, but we must not forget that she has
this. She reads the Bible, in proof that she holds
the same office that is there described, in the life
and words of GOD's prophets of every age. Her
preachers have to do with the sins of their day just
what the prophets did with the sins of theirs. It
has been said that that only is a good sermon which
makes those who hear it uncomfortable. It ought
to tell people of their faults and bring their sins to
remembrance ; to hold up a high ideal, so as to
make them ashamed, dissatisfied, and to send them
to their knees before GOD with confession of sin and
vow of amendment.
Wiazlfth ^itntra^ after fentt^. 297
But if this does not come from faithful preaching,
there will come Ahab's conclusion, ^^ I hate him, for
he does not speak good concerning me, but evil."
A man once excused himself to a clergyman for not
going to church on Sunday by saying that he found
it the only day upon which he could make up his
private accounts; and was answered, "You may
find, sir, that the Day of Judgment is to be spent
in exactly the same manner."
But just as in Micaiah's days there were false
prophets, so are there in all times. And the broad
features of their message is the same in every age.
God's minister crosses human nature; the false
prophet panders to its inclinations. To-day Zedekiah
does not make him horns of iron, but he writes
novels, publishes newspapers, and gives lectures.
He gilds vice, and calls deadly sins by poetic names ;
he invests transgressors of the laws of GOD and
man with interesting and attractive features, and
makes us love and pity the murderer, the adulterer,
and the swindler; while the pure and upright are
made ridiculous and contemptible. The false prophet
of to-day assumes that every one is sensual, selfish,
false; and enforces the comfortable doctrine that
our inclinations were not intended to be crossed,
and that probably, after all, there is no judgment
to come. Just as Ahab found four hundred prophets
ready to say what he wished, so now-a-days there
is no difficulty in finding defenders for every sort
of laxity of morals, every lust of mind or body,
that man or woman desires to gratify.
And each one of us must take his side. It cost
Micaiah his Hberty to be on GOD's side. It has
cost prophets and martyrs and righteous men and
women in all ages loss and pain and death. It will
cost us something, too, to gainsay the world, to
resist the flesh. We are not called to martyrdom;'
perhaps we are not equal to it; we are probably
298 ^hjdUh ^utttrair after f rttttt^.
not worthy of it ; but at least let us not think that
any strange thing happens to us if, when we do
good, we suffer for it; or if the right path is not
always the easier and pleasanter of two that are
open to us; or if in our everyday lives, at work,
or at home, we find that because we are Christians,
and that we may not cease to be Christians, we must
of our own free will and choice take up the Cross,
when human nature and voices round us, in many
tones, and with many well-turned arguments, bid
us spare ourselves and let the Cross alone.
EfjtrtcentJj Sunlran after Crintts*
''GO AND DO."
" Go and do ; " this was our Lord's practical con-
clusion to His sermon on our duty to our neighbour.
This was the conclusion to all His sermons. This
is still the only good conclusion to all sermons, '' Go
and do." Hear first, then ^' go and do." Learn some- 1
thing, then ^' go and do " it. If the sermon holds up
a good example, like that of the Good Samaritan,
then '^go and do" Hke him. If it sets forth an
example of ill-doing, like the unjust steward or the
rich fool, then " go and do " differently. If it be a call
to repentance, then '' go and do " repentance for your-
self, for no one can do it for you. If it holds up the
mirror to your past life, and recalls to your memory
wrong to God and man, then ^' go and do " as much
undoing as may be, like Zaccheus, restoring fourfold.
When the people of various classes and occupa-
tions had listened to St. John Baptist preaching in
the wilderness, they came to him one and all with
the question, '' What shall we do ? " It has been
well said that the result of a good sermon is to make
people uncomfortable; that is, to set them doing
something. The modern theory of public worship is
different ; indeed it is simply that of people sitting
still while something is done for them, and then
going away with the comfortable feeling that they have
done with religion for the week. Prayers are said,
and people listen to them or not. Preaching follows,
and they listen to it, criticise it, find fault with it,
or bestow patronising approval upon it; and then
299
300 ^Ijixlttnth ^Utttta^ after Sritttt^,
they return to what is to them the reahty of life,
eating and drinking, pleasuring, money-getting and
money-spending. Why, this poor Jewish lawyer
who came to our LORD knew better than these
Christians how to come to a teacher. He said,'
^' What shall I do that I may inherit eternal life ? "
He was not so foolish as to suppose that he had
nothing to do, that everything would be done for
him. Nobody ever conceived this consummation
of folly till these last days. The heathen, ancient
and modern, the Buddhist, the Mohammedan, every
earnest thinking man that has had a notion of GOD
and man, of sin and salvation, each have begun
with the assumption that he has something to do ;
that what is so well worth having is not to be had
for nothing; that another and a higher life must
demand some preparation, some fitness. Every
analogy of this life, every revelation, true or imagi-
nary, declares this. It will not bear examination, it
is clearly contrary to reason and common-sense,
that the modern easy-going theory about religion
can be true. But then most people do not reason,
and common-sense is a very uncommon gift. CHRIST
says, " Go and do ; " the popular teacher says you
have nothing to do.
All old religions were religions that exacted a good
deal from those who accepted them. The newest
religion bids for favour on the score of cheapness.
It promises the same results at a lower cost, like some
mountebank doctor, or some mendacious advertis-
ing tradesman, or some bubble company. Its very
tempting offers makes us suspect that it is utterly
unsound and delusive, and can only end in ruin.
"Go and do." What does your religion make
you do ? What do Sundays lead to in the week ?
What comes of all the sermons you hear? One
poor device is to sneer and joke about sermons,
trying to be witty, and only succeeding in being
Whixtttnth ^ittttra^ after fentt^. 301
profane or silly. Remember that it is a serious
thing to hear sermons. They never leave us exactly
as they found us. They are GOD's message to usJ
They are GOD'S reply to our question, ^' What shall
I do to inherit eternal life?" Shut your eyes to
the man, and your ears to his peculiarities, and try
and hear GOD's voice to your own soul. Old
George Herbert's words are the words of many
before him, and they are wise and good words : —
" Judge not the preacher, for he is thy judge.
If thou mislike him, thou conceivest him not. |
Do not grudge '
To pick out treasures from an earthen pot.
The worst speak something good.
Jest not at preachers' language or expression ; i
God sent him, whatsoe'er he be. O tarry, I
And love him for his Master. His condition.
Though it be ill, makes him no ill physician. j
Whom oil and balsams kill, what salve can cure ? '■
A greater than he spoke of the ^'foolishness of preach-
ing;" and yet it is GOD'S instrument to lead men
to eternal Hfe. The same words are fooHshness to
some, and the savour of life to others at their side.
The Parable of the Sower teaches us that; the
Sower the same, the Seed the same, but the Ground
different, and the Harvest therefore different.
'' Go and do." Let these words be our motto, GOD-
sent, this week. Not talk; not be idle; not hope
when there is no good ground for hope ; not theorise,
and wish, and day-dream; not waste time in that
which is really doing nothing; not leave undone
the more important to attend to the less important
work. This life is a grave and serious reality. The
life to come is yet more grave and serious. '' Go
and do." Work out your own salvation with feartj;;/^^
and trembHng. Your religion has first to be learntj
then to be practised. There are many who have
not mastered their ABC yet. There are many who
play truant from CHRIST'S school, and have as yet
302 nittzznth ^nnH^ after f^rittit^.
learned nothing. The language of the heavenly
Jerusalem is a foreign tongue that must be mastered
here ; the customs of the country have to be learned
beforehand. There is inheritance there to be pur-
chased at a good round price; there are friends to
be made. Oh, how much has to be done to fit us for
heavenly citizenship ; and oh, how short the time is !
Well may the Master say, ^' Go and do ; go and
do," urgently, repeatedly, imperatively. He has
done His part, but He cannot do ours. It may be
little by the side of His, as we know it is of no value
without His; but done it must be, or we and it
will be undone together. Do you say, "What am
I to do?" If you can do nothing else, go and!
pray. We read more than once of those who did|
this, and that then one was sent to them to tell
them what to do next. Many are all behind with
their work because they have not yet learned to
pray. " Praying's the end of preaching," as George
Herbert says again ; and prayer is work.
And then there comes for earnest and obedient
souls another word from their LORD, another meaning
of the command, '^ Go and do ; " " Do this in remem-
brance of Me ; " do this with penitence and faith, and
so take a step towards eternal life ; and then open
your eyes to see the next duty. It will not be far
to seek. As you journey, you, like the Good Samari-
tan, will soon come to a wounded man lying by the
wayside, robbed, and left to die. Attend to his wants,
and you will have enough to do for some time.
And now raise up that poor dying man ; look into
his face ; do you recognise those features ? Ah ! I
thought so; they are your own! It is yourself; it
is your own poor soul that lies half dead, and you
did not know it ! But the Word of GOD preached
has been, as St. James says, a glass to show you
yourself. Look again, and " go and do ; " and see
that you do not straightway forget once more " what
manner of man you are."
jFoutteentfj Suntiag after SCrtnitg.
THE THREE PARABLES ON PENITENCE,
The ministry of CHRIST was a mission to sinners.
Men who had no sense of sin could see nothing
attractive in Him; they only contemptuously nick-
named Him " the Friend of sinners." So to-day
self-sufficient men first get rid of the belief in man's
sinfulness, and then soon lose belief in Christ.
^' Jesus Christ came into the world to save sin-'
ners." The HOLY GHOST now convinces men of
sin, and then they turn instinctively to CHRIST, as
the sick man turns to the physician. All men are
sinners, but some go bravely on, with health and
business and pleasures, with no look inward at their
own hearts, with no look upward to God's purity,
with no look onward to the day when the two will
be brought together. They feel no, fear of sin, no
sense of sin, no need of pardon ; and the longer this
goes on the less likely it is that they will ever be
different. They get on very well without CHRIST.
He and they are strangers to one another.
But sinners ^' draw near " to Him ; those who arej
" weary and heavy laden ; " those who would be rid*
of sin. There has been, all the world over and in
every age of man's history, a sense of sin. It
makes savage man afraid of gods and ghosts, that
seem to haunt and torment him. It makes more
cultured races believe in a judgment to come. It
has taught widely separated races of men mortifica-
303
304 youttnnth ^utttra^ after totiit^.
tion and self-punishment. It has inspired teachers,
whom milHons reverence, to imagine transmigrations
of sinful souls through many suflfering lives, till
their guilt had been worked out or burned out.
But Christ taught that sin could be pardoned by
the Almighty and All-merciful, not by the sinner's
torture, but by the word of his Creator, by the love
of his Father. He declared sin to be a disease of
the soul, just as there are diseases of the body;
and to prove that He, the Son of Man, had power
on earth to forgive sin. He healed bodily diseases i
with a word before men's eyes, and He taught by
parables from nature the whole system of the healing
of the ills of the soul.
In the fifteenth chapter of St. Luke's Gospel there
are three consecutive parables that contain the whole
wondrous scheme of the pardon of sin through
ChrIwST. Each parable is complete in itself. Each
teaches some special and peculiar truth; but it is
only by taking the three together that we grasp the
full revelation by CHRIST of God's will with respect
to forgiveness of sin. Most of the great errors in
religion have arisen from taking up some one text
of Scripture, and ignoring the rest ; putting asunder
what God hath joined together. So these three
parables, uttered by our LORD one after the other
and in inseparable connection, must not be divided,
or they will be misunderstood. In the first two
parables, the Lost Sheep and the Lost Piece of
Silver, we see the love of GOD in seeking His lost
and sinful creature. In the third parable, that of
the Prodigal Son, we are taught the sinner's part,
repentance, turning to GOD with confession, sorrow,!
and desire of pardon and amendment. The firstl
two would be incomplete, and even misleading, if
taken by themselves; for the Coin and Sheep are
senseless and impassive. They seem to be sought
and found without any will or effort of their own.
yoxixUtnth §^nnha^ after i^nttxt^. 305
These parables, taken alone, may be made to teach
Calvinism and fatalism ; but the Prodigal's penitence,
his toiling return, his tearful outpouring of the tale
of his folly, his humble cry for punishment and
pardon, all this corrects any such danger. So the
parable of the Prodigal, if taken alone, would leave
us without any knowledge of the merciful work of
Christ and of the Holy Spirit, seeking the lost
and stirring up the heart to contrition. The three
parables together show what it costs to save a soul,
how each Person of the blessed Trinity works ; that
just as it was said, '' Let us make man," so Father,
Son, and HOLY Ghost severally share in man's
redemption and restoration.
In the parable of the Prodigal we see the Father's
love; in that of the Good Shepherd, the mission
of the Son ; in that of the lost Piece of Money, the
work of the HOLY GHOST in the Church; the woman
searching as the Shepherd searches, and by means
of light that has been put into her hands.
There is a series and a climax in the three
parables, to lead us up, step by step, to the full'
sense of the value of the soul, as it has been
gradually revealed. There is first one sheep lost'
out of one hundred ; then one piece of money out
of ten ; and finally one son out of two. A man
with a whole flock of sheep is rich, compared with
the widow with but ten pieces of silver. The loss
of the sheep is little compared with the loss of the
tenth part of t-he poor woman's all. But what is
either of these to the loss of a son, one of two ?
Just in the same way, the guilt of sin is taught
gradually. The sheep is but a beast, stupid, easily
led astray; it wanders naturally, it is lost acci-
dentally ; there is nothing wilful, nothing wrong, in
the act. So many sinners '' err and stray like lost
sheep ; " they know not what they do ; children,
ignorant people, and such Hke. But the next parable
3o6 yonxtzznth ^nntra^ after f^rittit^.
has a new idea. The money is precious, and ought
to be carefully kept. It bears the image and super-
scription of the King ; it will be injured and defaced
by dirt and damp. So sinners waste their talents,|
deface the image of GOD on their souls, and are
so careless of that which is most valuable, that it
shps out of their hands, and they do not perceive it,
and they are left poor indeed.
But all culminates in the Prodigal's guilt. It is not
an animal, but a man ; not a coin, but a reasonable
creature ; not one misled, but a wilful wanderer. It
is not a master that is forsaken, but a father. The
Sheep and the Coin are what they were before they
were lost ; but the Prodigal has wasted money and
time, and debased himself, till even his own conscience
demands that he shall take a lower place than that
which once was his. The Coin lay still where it had
been dropped ; the Sheep did not wish to be lost ; but
the Prodigal had wilfully made his return difficult,
by distance, by deeds of shame, by a degraded state
of starvation and nakedness that he scarce dared
show to friends and relations. Here is deep sin
from which return is so hard ; sin that makes the
moral or the not-found-out cry shame and bar the
way to reconciliation ; sin that brings misery enough,
and remorse most bitter, but from which many a
man and woman has not courage to flee, and from
it to come into respectable company, or to face the
world's sneers and the looks of the untempted and
the self-righteous.
All these kinds and degrees of sinfulness are ever
existent, and the merciful work of GOD is always
going on to save the sinners. The Good Shepherd
is seeking the lost Sheep. The Church has lighted
her candle to shed its bright rays upon the dark
places of men's hearts, where there is still a coin
hid bearing the image of the great King, still
having pure and undefaced metal enough to reflect
fonttttnth MnnH^ after ^ritttt^* 307
the light, and to direct the searching eye and the
outstretched hand of the rescuer. The father is
waiting for the returning son, seeing him afar off,
running to meet him, eager to pardon.
Yes; but, alas! there is something more to bef
said ; there is another side of the picture. There 1
is for the Sheep, the prowling lion; for the lost
Coin, the ruined house that buries all for ever ;
for the Prodigal, that does not return, the slave's
cheerless, shameful life and miserable death ; there
is for sinners that will not '^ draw nigh," the dreadful
word, " Depart ! "
People do not like to think or speak of this.
Nineteenth century notions make light of sin, and
explain away all terrible words of judgment and
retribution. Yet the words stand there still. It
has been said by a holy man that probably men
will be altogether astonished at the awful punish-
ment of sin. Men treat GOD as if He were a weak,
good-natured creature, easily talked over, Who may
be handled anyhow with impunity. Who never will
keep His word. Who cannot be stern and inexorable.
They explain away His threatenings ; they water
down His plain warnings ; they transgress His laws,
as they dare not break human laws. Oh, let us
sinners ^' draw nigh " to hear His words, whatever
they are; all His words, for all are good and
necessary for us ! Keeping away from Him is the
one great sin.
Let us *' draw nigh " to Him morning and evening
in our private prayers ; on Sunday in His appointed
place of meeting ; above all in the great Sacrament
that He has instituted to bring Himself and the
soul close together. ** Drawing nigh" will help
us to feel that we are sinners. "Drawing nigh"
will make us pardoned sinners. Day after day ]
passes, and year after year, and we are drawing'
near, and ever nearer, to the sight and presence of
3o8 JFourt^cntlr ^utttra^ after Cnttxt^.
God, to the great white throne, to the judgment,
and our sentence; let us draw near now to thej
Friend of sinners. Who says, ^'Whosoever cometh'
to Me, I will in nowise cast out."
Let us day by day go to the Cross. It is a
narrow way; for each soul must go by himself.
Magdalen crept up to His feet; Nicodemus stole
to Him by night ; let each one of us ^' draw nigh "
to Him something in this way. The way has been
well trodden : —
" For laden souls, by thousands meekly stealing,
Kind Shepherd, turn their weary steps to Thee."
Jiftccntlj S'Untfas after Erinitg.
THE EFFECTS OF SIN.
The effects of sin, as regards ourselves, can be
summed up in one word. Death. Sin strikes the
soul dead. Before sin was known to man, GOD
warned him that this was its effect. There was
but one sin possible, and of that GOD said, that if
man committed it, in that day he should die; the
result would be instantaneous, the effect would be
irremediable. Adam sinned, and death shrouded
his soul instantly. But he did not then and there
fall down dead. It was not of the death of the body
that God spoke. Adam lived on, thought, felt;
his soul was not annihilated, was not even reduced
to torpidity ; for his soul was immortal, unalterable,
made in the image of the eternity of GOD. But for
all that it was dead.
The analogy of the death of the body goes some
way, but stops short, necessarily, in representing
fully the death of the soul, because the body is
not identical with the soul, but only like it, and
vastly inferior to it. But even if the body is dead,
it is not annihilated. It is often so little altered
that we can scarce believe it is dead. It seems no
more dead than it has appeared every day in sleep.
The features are there, size, weight, and most of
the characteristics of the living man. So it is with
the sin-stricken soul. And because of this men
make light of sin, and explain away its malignant
309
3IO yiittznth ^unira^ after CrtJittg.
effects. Sin is done, and forgotten; and the man
says, '' What am I the worse for it ? " So Esau
jauntily went out, after he had pawned his birth-
right for a meal; his pace was as fleet as before,
his eye as true ; he could Ijill his game as well as
ever. What was he the worse because he had
traded away his priesthood for a mess of pottage ?
Lamech killed a man, and at first thought that
Cain's curse would fall upon him instantly. He
waited, and it came not ; and so he calls his wives,
and makes light of murder.
So it has ever been, and is still. Job and David
and many more have complained of the prosperity
of the wicked, of the tardy judgment of GOD. In
our narrow impatience we fancy that GOD must
smite at once, as a pettish child returns blow for
blow; and because He does not, some men are
offended and indignant ; some sneer and say there
is no God at all ; and more still congratulate them-
selves on their security, and go on still in their
successful wickedness. " Because sentence against
an evil work is not executed speedily, therefore
the heart of the sons of men is fully set in them
to do evil."
Men's estimate of sin is made generally by its
present and visible and temporal results. Sin that
injures health or position, or that hurts others evi-
dently and at once, this is understood to be evil,
and this is denounced. But what has this to do
with the matter? Sin affects those two great in-
visible reahties, GOD and the soul. Sin cuts off
the soul from GOD, and stops the stream of life,
and hides the light of God's face, and makes it im-
possible that those two, GOD and the soul, can be
together; it makes mutual repulsion inevitable and
constant. As the branch of a tree or the hmb of
a body that is cut off is at once and hopelessly
dead, so is the soul that has sinned. Put away all
JFtfieetttlr ^untra^ after Wxinit'^. 311
accidents, and we see it. GOD and the. soul are
the only eternities. We may strip away everything
else, all creatures, down to our own bodies, one
after another ; all pass away, or we pass away from
them ; nothing stays ; nothing is really ours. A
few years, and everything that we see or know
that is material has gone, and our naked soul stands
alone; and face to face with it then, as now, as
always, is GOD.
But sin has clung to us; nay, rather, it is part
of ourselves; it has stamped itself into our souls,
moulded them, changed them, debased them. We
know not what death is to the soul, but we know
what it is to the body ; and the analogy doubtless
holds, as far as it will go. A dead body ! Those
who loved the living one most dearly, bid it be put
from them. It cannot move or love. We weep
over it, but we put it away from us. And what
read we of One who said, ^' If thou hadst known ! "
and then burst into a passion of weeping, and
turned away, and left that which He wept over to
destruction ? What means this ? It is a picture of
God and the soul. GOD made it for Himself, to
know and so to love Him, and to live in His love ever
in utter bhssfulness. But it sinned, and destroyed
itself, in spite of Him ; and life and death cannot
dwell together; and so the dead soul, sin-slain,
turns instinctively away from GOD into the outer
darkness ; and GOD turns from it the light of His
eternal purity, and they two can never come together.
Yes, and there is more yet. '^ Eternal death " — I
know not what it is, for GOD has not revealed it;
but there are awful words and dreadful analogies
and similes, and my soul quakes as I read. There
is the tremendous justice of GOD. There is punish-
ment for disobedience and rebellion. There is the
outraged majesty of the Almighty to be vindicated.
If man and his laws and rights demand and receive
312 yifteetttllT ^utttta^ after Wvinit^,
observance, or exact punishment and retribution,
shall not GOD and His law have their due ? Is it
essential to the stability of society that there be
prisons and sentences, and shall GOD exact nothing
of His disobedient creatures? Shall His justice
never wield its sword ?
My reason tells me the same that my Bible tells
me, and I tremble as I hear the words, ^' It is a
fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living GOD,
for our God is a consuming fire." Yes, we talk of
sin and of its effects, and by that we commonly
mean its effects upon ourselves. But is that the
end of the matter? Is there nothing else to be
considered ? Is there no one else that is affected
by our sins, but only ourselves ? Ah, the pitiful
littleness of human self-sufficiency ! What is sin
but transgression against the law of GOD ? Are we
to think only of what sin does to us, and not at all i
of its relation to GOD ?
One characteristic feature of modern irreligion is
its insufferable impertinence. It treats Almighty
God with the insolent familiarity of a low-bred
upstart. There is much talk of the rights of man ; j
there is nothing said of the rights of GOD, and ofj
man's duties to Him. There was nothing of this
in the old world. Then men feared GOD, and
treated Him with reverence. Men felt sin and
dreaded its punishment, and were ready to do and
suffer to gain pardon. But now men dare each
other to take greater and greater liberties with GOD,
and mock and jeer, because He does not strike
them dead ! " If Thou be the Son of GOD, come
down from the Cross ; save Thyself; prophesy Thou
Christ ; who was it that smote Thee ? "
Alas, for the revelation of the wrath of the Lamb !
Alas, for those who shall look upon Him Whom
they have pierced ! Take liberties with the mighty
ocean, and what will you get ? Take Hberties with
ff UNIVERSITY j
Vfei"
yiUtznth ^ttntra^ after tettxt^r, 313
a volcano, a tiger, a steam-engine, and see what
will come of it. And shall we, poor little creatures
that we are, take liberties with the Infinite Creator,
Who called us out of nothing to do His will, and be
what He bade us; and shall we hope to come off
free ? Does an animal take liberties with us, set its
will against ours ; and what do we do ? Does our
child take impertinent liberties and set us at defiance,
and what do we do ?
Be sure there is in modern irreligion, spite of its
plausible self-vindication, an inner conscious hatred
of God, a pitting of will against will, a rebellion, a
defiance, a fight. This is an aspect of the sin of the
last days which prophetic words depict to us ; and
do we not see it already, hear it, feel it ? Once men
hid their unbelief, and were more than half ashamed
of it, but now they flaunt it before all and glory in
it, and dare GOD to do His worst. GoD is not
man. He has no passions of revenge, or such like ;
but God is Lord, and must be LORD of all. He
would have all obey for love, but they who will not
must still obey. All that opposes itself to His will
must go down. Now for a Httle while there is
liberty, but presently there will be judgment. And
let us remember Who the Administrator of that judg-
ment will be ; it will be a Man ! One who has been
born, and lived, and suffered, and died in this world.
One who knows by personal contact what sin is,
what is temptation ; the Son of Man, Who is also
the Son of GOD. The justice of that tribunal will
be acknowledged even by those whom it condemns.
Not a tongue but shall then confess that GOD is
holy, and that His way is right and His will good-
ness. Even they who go away condemned shall
have already condemned themselves and acknow-
ledged that God hath done all things well, and that
they have lost themselves by their own desperate
folly and wilfulness,
3^4 yif teenier ^tintrag after tonit^.
"Sin when it is finished bringeth forth death."
Remember we, then, the end. The sin that tempts
us is sweet in its beginning, but it is not yet finished.
Men sin, and forget it ; but the sin remains. They
are dead while they five. Their souls are dead
within them. Men follow leaders, like Sennacherib,
who vaunt their prowess, who mock GOD, and dare
Him to do His worst, and jeer at humble believers
and servants of His. It is dark, and we cannot well
see one another ; but the morning comes, and with
it light ; and by that morning light the dreadful
work of sin shall be seen ; for " lo, they lie all dead
corpses ! "
Sixteentfi Suntrag after Ertnttg.
A DEAD MAN.
The Gospel to-day tells us that, as our Lord
entered Nain, '^a dead man was carried out."
^' A dead man " — a common sight. They say that
a man dies somewhere every time the clock ticks.
They say that the earth's whole surface, or a space
equal to it, has been dug over more than once
to bury the earth's dead men. Often in time of
war spots of the earth's surface have been strewn
as thickly with dead men as the ground is with
leaves in autumn. The thing is so common that
we think little more of seeing a dead man than of
seeing a living man.
Yet what a mystery it is ! There are the features,
the form, the limbs, yet all useless, motionless, never
again to be used. So like the living man, and yet
so utterly different ! We no longer use his name,
but speak of his body as '^ it." How strange to lay
it in the grave, and leave it there ! That which was
so nourished and cared for, to be left in the cold
ground all night, and all the thousand thoughts for
its welfare quite at an end ! If he were young,
what a pity that he should be cut off so in the
midst of his days, with so small a share of life !
If he were mature, what a pity that he should be
taken away from life, just when he had learned
how to live, just when the toil of education and
315
31 6 ^i^te^tttl^ ^utttrau after l^riitxt^.
experience had made him useful ! And if he were
one near and dear to us, then there come other,
keener, more bitter thoughts. What a blank in our
world he has left ! We cannot realise that he who
was with us in life and health so short a time ago,
that he with whom we have lived and travelled and
eaten, whose features and ways we knew so well, is
gone from us for ever! We rebel against it. It
cannot — shall not be ! We know not how to set
about life without him.
And then there is something yet more hard to
comprehend — our own death ! That all this will
happen to each one of us ! That this body will be
carried out stark and helpless, and left alone and
uncared for in the cold grave, and that dearest ones
will come away, who now tend us with tenderest
solicitude, and that all our most personal things will
pass into other hands, and that our little circle will
know us, expect us, prepare for us, no more ! It
can be grasped by an effort ; but it is not easy ; and
it slips away again, almost as soon as we have laid
hold of it. For life and death are contradictories.
Probably life is as hard to remember and realise
by the dead as death is hard to realise now by us
who live.
How, then, comes life to merge into death ? It is
hard to say. Putting aside accidents and violent
attacks of disease, physiologists tell us that they
know not why men should die as they do ; that the
majority are put to death, and die long before their
time. Men's own ignorance and follies and mis-
takes, and the unwise and unnatural habits and
customs of communities, these cut short the term
of life, and import the seeds of death into living
bodies, which grow till they are masterful and para-
mount, and then man dies.
But there is another aspect of all this. All this
Strange conflict between life and death goes on
^i^ctBzntlj Mnnha'Q aittv i^rtntt^. 317
within us, in another sphere besides that of the
body. There is in each man a moral and spiritual
life, and this is attacked by its own death ; and all
too often death masters Hfe, and the living man
carries about his own spiritual corpse, dead for all
good uses, but, like all dead things, malefic and
deadly to all hfe that approaches. You say, a man
is immoral ; you might say that the soul within him
is dead, corrupting, and so infecting other souls that
it touches. You shudder, perhaps, at the sight of a
dead body — that is, a body without its spirit ; what
shall we say of those men who are walking corpses,
bodies without spirits; men whose souls are dead
within them, while they live ? You are afraid of
seeing ghosts — that is, spirits without bodies, whose
bodies are dead ; is it not a ghastlier thing to see
these bodies without spirits ? There are spiritual
and moral diseases, as well as those of the body.
They are propagated in similar ways. They are
contagious, catching ; they have their symptoms and
periods, and the end of both, if they run their course
unchecked, is death. People discuss and argue, and
vex themselves with questions as to Hell and eternal
punishment; might we not know that if the death
of the body is such a mystery, there may well be
difficulties and insoluble mystery shrouding that
most awful state of the sinful soul which GOD calls
" the Second Death " and Death Eternal ?
And is there not something more practical, more
important, that better deserves our attention, that
demands our most serious care and thought, as we
love ourselves and value our happiness ? It is this,
that true religion is not feeling, but a condition.
That sin, too, is a condition, and that it works death
now, at the moment it is committed, and on and
on for ever, unless it be healed and pardoned.
'^ So long as a man can persuade himself that Hell
is but an arbitrary punishment of GOD, he will hope
3i8 ^i^t^ctttfr ^utttra^ after i^rittit^.
that God will let him off that awful punishment.
He cannot believe that GOD will be so hard with
him as that. No ; he thinks he will get off somehow.
But it is a terrible thing for a man to find out that
the direct result and end of his sin is death ; that
it is not a punishment, but a natural and inevitable
consequence, by the unalterable laws of GOD ; that
he must not dream of being respited or pardoned ;
the thing cannot be done ; it is contrary to the laws
of God, and of the universe. It is as impossible as
that fire should not burn, or that water should run
uphill. Men cannot, and do not, escape the conse-
quences of their own actions. There are no back-
stairs by which we may be smuggled up to heaven.
As we sow, we reap. Every man is his own poisoner,
his own executioner, his own suicide. Hell begins
in this life ; and death begins long before we die."
Oh, that men would take in this plain truth !
People go to hear this preacher and that, and if their
feelings are roused and moved at the moment, they
think they have done a good Sunday's work. But
what has that to do with the matter ? The question
of a man's religious condition is one of fact, not of
feeling. His sins ar^e there,-corroding out the life
of his soul, or they are not. He has confessed and
forsaken them, and been pardoned, or he has not.
This is the one vital question : Has the sin-stricken
soul come to the One Who alone can heal him, and
heard His word of pardon, '^ I say unto thee. Arise" ?
Or is it keeping away from Him above all things,
adding sin to sin, wounding itself with blow after
blow, aggravating the deadly disease, till it gallops
to its inevitable consummation. Death ? Medicine
and surgery are wonderful; they can do great
things, almost miracles, for the poor diseased body ;
but there is one Physician, and one only. Who can
heal the death-stricken soul ; and He is not only
mighty, but almighty. What he did for men's
^i^t^entlr ^utttra^ after ^xinit^. 3^9
bodies when He was in the world was but a
parable of what He does ever for the dying soul : —
" Thy touch has still its ancient power,
No word from Thee can fruitless fall."
First a cleansed heart ; then union with Him Who
is hfe; then daily growth in Him. This is the
Christian's calHng; not words and feelings. This
is the antidote of death. This is life now, and
for ever.
<Sefaenteent|} Suntiag after Erinttg*
THE SEA. «
There are few persons who are not filled with
admiration for the beauties of the Sea. The wonder-
ful effects of light and shade; the dancing sparkle
of the sun-Ht wavelets ; the soft sheen of the moon's
reflection ; the pleasant murmur of the tiny breakers
upon the shore on a summer day ; the white
crests that fleck its surface when there is a fresh
breeze; sunrise and sunset — these all delight us.
We find the Sea always attractive, always fresh and
new. We even watch its storm-tossed billows with
delight ; and where great ocean-rollers come on in
majestic power, and hurl themselves with thunder-
ing resonance upon a rock-bound coast, we stand
awed and fascinated, in speechless admiration. Poetic
writers in all ages have dwelt upon the loveliness
and the grandeur of the ocean. Greeks write of
the
dvapiOfJLOv <y6\aa/Jia 6a\aaar)(: ;
and time would fail us if we tried to quote what
our own authors have said. Thus : —
" The bridegroom Sea
Is toying with the shore, his wedded bride ;
And in the fulness of his marriage joy
He decorates her tawny brow with shells,
Retires a pace to see how fair she looks
Then proud runs up to kiss her."
320 »
^eiretttcctttlr ^ittttra^ after Crtmt^. 321
Or again : —
" Calm or convulsed, in breeze, or gale, or storn.
Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime.
Dark-heaving, boundless, endless, and sublime.
The image of Eternity, the throne of the Invisible."
And just once more : —
" Great Ocean ! strongest of Creation's sons,
Unconquerable, unreposed, untired ;
That rolled the wild, profound, eternal bass,
In nature's anthem, and made music such
As pleased the ear of God ! Original,
Unmarred, unfaded work of Deity,
And unburlesqued by mortal's puny skill.
From age to age enduring and unchanged,
Majestical, inimitable, vast.
Loud uttering satire day and night, on each
Succeeding race, and little pompous work
Of man ! Unfallen, religious, holy Sea,
Thou bow'st thy glorious head to none, fear'st none,
Hear'st none, to none dost honour, but to GOD ;
Thy Maker only worthy to receive
Thy great obeisance."
But in the Bible we find none of this admiration
for the Sea. When it is referred to, it is as an
emblem of power only, or of danger, or of destruc-
tion, or of overwhelming afQictions, or of an angry
and ruinous mob, or of the restless heart of the
wicked man. And when the renewed earth is spoken
of by St. John, he tells us that in that better world,
'* there shall be no more Sea."
The Sea of Galilee is a lovely inland lake, of
which modern travellers speak with words of bound-
less pleasure. The Mediterranean, specially the Sea
of the Bible, is full of beauty to our eyes ; yet of
the former nothing is said in the New Testament,
except that Jesus stood with His back to it, preach-
ing upon its shore, or that He crossed it, and was
nearly wrecked, or that He trampled it down miracu-
X
322 ^zbznUtnth ^nnba^ after ^rittit^.
lously and calmed its wild storm. And of the latter
we hear scarcely anything, except of the shipwreck
of St. Paul, when the master of the ship was beguiled,
by the south wind blowing softly, to trust himself
to its treacherous bosom.
The Church follows the New Testament regard
for the Sea. She describes herself as the Ark of
safety, floating upon the wor]j^'s flood, destructive,
pitiless, wasteful; and she prays that her children
may '' safely pass the waves of this troublesome j
world, and come to the land of everlasting life." |
Let us try and see, then, some of the reasons that
there are for this hostile regard of the Sea in Holy
Scripture and the voice of the Church. First, then,
the Sea compares unfavourably with the land, in re-
spect of its utiHty to man. It is a waste, unculti-
vated and unproductive. Summer's sunshine does
not render it fruitful. The soft rain, that makes the
earth burst forth into life, is lost in the salt depths
of the ocean. Man ploughs and cultivates the ground,
and it yields him food, and all that he needs; but
there is no harvest-tide, no vintage, no cattle-pasture,
no forest, no water to drink, in the Sea, for man.
It may be said that the waters teem with animal
and vegetable life ; that the first apostles were fisher-
men, and that their craft is said by our LORD to be
a type of the Church's work in saving souls. True ;
yet must we not distinguish between the quiet-grow-
ing fruit of the ground and the spoil of the Sea,
wrested from it with difficulty and danger ? How
many lives does the fish-supply cost year by year !
Sailors and fisher-folk are not enthusiastic about the
Sea. They know its perils too well, its cruel exact-
ing of tribute year by year, the widows and orphans
whom it makes to weep and to suffer. And if
Christ's ministers are styled " fishers of men," it
is because they draw men out of the world by the
Church's net, or catch them with guile, not for death,
^tbtntttnth ^utttra^ after Crtttit^. 323
but for life, that they may raise them to a higher
existence.
Then think of the avarice of the Sea. Beneath
its sterile expanse He beautiful cities and fair coun-
tries, submerged and gone. Think of the wealth, the
works of art, the masterpieces of man's long labour,
that lie lost and wasted in the Sea-depths ; the noble
ships of all ages ; the bones of men, brave, goodly
men, cut off in their prime, in spite of skill and
endurance and prayers. The Sea is a vast cemetery,
a sepulchre that smiles in the sunshine, and hides
the awful carnage that never ends.
Is not this like the world and its ways, its waste,
its greedy, insatiable ruin of all that is noble and
beautiful in man, its seductions, its treacheries, its
pitiless, sullen murder of souls, its beast-like lust of
blood, from the Blood of the Son of GOD to the
blood of the innocents of our great cities, that cries
from their hideous slums to GOD on high ? We
boast our modern civilisation and progress. One
characteristic feature of it is the enormous growth
of our towns. There are splendid buildings, wide
streets, beautiful parks, vast wealth, novel methods
of pleasure ; but, alas ! there is behind an awful grow-
ing mass of deeply degraded beings, hiding in the
depths, which every now and then is revealed to
us ; just as the Sea sometimes casts upon the shore
one of its unnumbered dead.
Then think of the unstable, unreliable character
of the Sea ; tossed by the winds, unable to resist ;
bursting upon fair lands, battering great and beauti-
ful ships to fragments, passing capriciously from
placid calm to blind fury. A true picture of '' the
way of the world;" to-day, "Alleluia;" to-morrow,
*' Crucify Him," What is there so like a raging
sea as a wild mob, howling, hurtling on furiously,
without reason, without pity, only cruel and destruc-
tive ? In many places in Scripture the two are com-
324 ^ebEttteetttlT ^utttra^ after l^rxttit^.
pared — '' The raging of the sea, and the madness of
the people."
Compare all this with sanctified humanity.
Christ is said to be "The Rock." The Church
is a city firmly built upon the everlasting hills. And
when St. John saw in his vision things that must be
hereafter, twice he is shown a " Sea of glass and
fire;" a mystical emblem of the changes found in
the new heavens and earth. The Sea not unstable,
but the firm standing-ground for "those who have
gotten victory over the Beast ; " not dead and cold,
but glowing with celestial fire.
We begin to see the fitness of the Bible sym-
bolism. Let us pass on to notice shortly some
further similitudes and contrasts. The sailor spends
a long time upon the Sea, but he never can make
it his home. He embarks upon its uneasy surface,
but it is only that he may reach lands on the other
side. So God has sent us into the world, and our
Lord, while He declares the world to be His enemy
and ours, will not take us out of the world, but only
warns us not to make our home here, but to look oiJ
to the haven where we would be. We are to h&
merchantmen, trafficking in many lands, laying up
treasure, and in spite of storms, carrying all safe
from ever-impending shipwreck to our port. The
Church of CHRIST is like the Ark upon the waters
of the dreadful flood. Those that are within are
safe; and the way of that ship upon the pathless
and hostile Sea is marvellous, as Solomon says the
w^ay of a ship always is.
But we must come nearer home. It is the indi-
vidual soul that we have most to do with; and
God's Word is full of comfort and promise to those
whom it describes as tried and afflicted in this
present life, under the symbol of the dangers of the
Sea. " Out of the deep have I cried unto Thee,"
says the Psalmist, speaking for all ages and for
^ctrettteEntlr ^unbair after tett:t|r. 325
every sorrowing heart. "All Thy waves and storms
have gone over me." '' Thou hast afflicted me with
all Thy waves." And then there is the Divine
response, " When thou passest through the waters,
I will be" with thee; and through the rivers, they
shall not overflow thee." There is the ever-fulfilled
type of Israel, " Mine own will I bring again, as I
did sometime, from the deep of the Sea." There is
the touching story of Peter's daring, and Peter's
failure, when he tried to do as his LORD was doing,
and walk upon the water ; and then, his faith failing
at the sight of the heaving billows, he began to sink,
and crying out, he found his Master's Hand support-
ing him. So do we start bravely, and presently fail
weakly. So do we need, so do we hope for, the
outstretched Hand, Wound-marked, to help and
save us. And so there is a more wonderful meaning
found in the old words, ^'Thy way is in the Sea,
and Thy path in the great waters ; " for when the
poor soul is like the disciples' ship, covered with the
waves and ready to sink, there comes One walking
upon the w^aters saying, " Peace, be still." Yes ;
and there is a hidden force in the narrative, which
we miss in our translation, but which helps to bear
out the analogy that we are tracing. St. Mark tells
us that our LORD '' rebuked the Sea," and said, " Be
still." The word that He used is the same as that
with which He silenced and drove out an evil spirit
from a man, " Be thou muzzled, and come out."
There seems, then, a resemblance traced by our
Lord Himself between the raging of the storm-
driven Sea and the overmastering power of the
spirits of evil. "The wicked," whether wicked
spirits or wicked men, "are like the troubled Sea,
when it cannot rest." They "foam out their own
shame." The temptations of the world, the flesh,
and the devil come upon us ; we seem to be alone,
like the disciples in their boat ; or if our Lord be
326 ^i>tr£nti:£ntlr ^unba^ after tentt^.
with us, He appears to be asleep, and not to care
that we perish; but if we call, He will hear and
answer and deliver us, though it may not be as soon
as we wish or in the way that we expect. For His
peace sometimes does not come till the last, when
we are "delivered from the miseries of this sinful
world," where '' the wicked cease from troubling and
the weary are at rest : " —
" Safe home, safe home in port :
Rent cordage, shattered deck,
Torn sails, provisions short,
And only not a wreck." ;
i
"Jesus, Deliverer, 1
Come Thou to me :
Soothe Thou my voyaging
Over hfe's sea.
Thou, when the storm of death
Roars, sweeping by,
Whisper, Thou Truth of Truth,
' Peace ! It is I.' "
(Stsfjteentfj .Suntias after Ertnitg*
THE sows LONGING FOR LIFE.
No less than nine times in the '' Psalm of the
Saints " do these words occur, ^' Quicken Thou me."
This is the cry of the spiritual man in the midst of
the materialism of the world. " Quicken Thou me/'
cries the soul oppressed, drawn down, hampered
by the flesh; ^^ Quicken Thou me," give me life,
sustain my life, strengthen my life. This is the
unceasing agonising prayer of the Christian, whose
conversation is in heaven, but who feels within and
without the powers of death and hell fighting, sap-
ping, paralysing.
All through the Psalms, in the New Testament, in
the Old Testament, in the words of God's servants
of every age, of every country, of every degree of
spiritual knowledge and enlightenment, this cry goes
up, and ever has gone up, and will go up, till death
shall be swallowed up in the final victory of life.
All through the universe, wherever we can see
and examine it, there is seen the power of death.
Everywhere death reigns, and its power is submitted
to without resistance, without complaint, for there
is no consciousness. Only in man there is the
sense of the misery, the degradation, the waste, of
death ; the protest against it, the cry for deliverance
from it, the hope that there may be an end to it,
a death for death, a revelation of life, resurrection,
everlasting life.
3*7
328 (Bi^ht^tnth ^nnba^ aiUv ffirinit^.
Spring and summer are beautiful, but tliere is
the dull foreboding of autumn and winter. We
gaze with delight upon children, gay, joyous, care-
less; presently we look again, and in their place
are toiling, sorrowing men and women. Childhood
and youth are joyous and happy, but they lead on
inevitably, and all too soon, to age, decrepitude, and
death. Flowers bloom in high summer in prodigal
luxuriance, but how fragile they are, how short-lived !
Yesterday's wealth of colour and fragrance, with
which we decked our rooms, lies to-day dabbled,
faded, and foul, and we hasten to fling them away.
The great, the noble, the lovely, do but form a pro-
cession whose destination is the churchyard. His-
tory, magnificent buildings, arts, masterpieces, the
triumphs of inventions, of skill, of patience, of courage,
all, all end at last in '• the cold Hicjacets of the tomb."
Stand in the bright sunshine upon some seaside
cliff. The eye revels in beauty; every sense is
delighted, till we cry, '^ The world is lovely ; life is
good ; everything is rejoicing in life and happiness."
But is it so ? The very cliff you stand upon is but
a fragment, a ruin. It has been scarped away from
some great hill, and as you stand it is crumbling
down beneath your feet. It is full of dead bones
and half-perished remains of creatures that once
lived and sported in the sunshine. The grass that
clothes its top is scorching up, and will soon be dry
as dust. The sea-birds, that soar so gracefully, are
preying upon the fish; the fish are devouring one
another. The very insects, that fill the air, and
make music for you as they flit by, slay and are
slain, and some of them live at most but a day.
Nature is beautiful outwardly, but within it is a
charnel-house of destruction and decay.
Look up at the silver moon, smiling calmly amidst
the clouds, its bright rays glittering upon the water,
its beauty making the balmy summer night more fit
for enjoyment than for sleep. Yes ; but the moon
is a dead world. Once, perhaps, like our own, the
abode of life ; now deserted, still, worn out, having
served its turn, flung aside, done with, dead.
So it is everywhere in creation. So it will be,
they say, with this world of ours. So even with
the sun itself. So with all the host of heaven.
All, all goes slowly, surely, on to destruction;
motionless, lifeless rest ; coldness, decay, death. So
let it be. The laws of matter work on, and work
to their ultimate and inevitable consummation; but
matter has no soul, no hope, no regret, no feeling at
all. The wreck of worlds is less touching than the
wailing of an infant in pain. The end of all created
things is nothing compared with the complaint of a
man, '' My soul cleaveth to the dust."
Yes, man stands alone in the universe. He alone
will not acquiesce in the universal law of destruction
and death. His soul within him is dragged down,
like everything else, but it alone resists, and refuses
to submit quietly. Life in man is conscious of itself,
and looks upward, while the tide of everything around
it sweeps downward. When death snatches away
dear ones, man refuses to believe that they have
come to an end, and that he will not meet them
again. And as he himself lies down to die, he
cries to the LORD of life, " Quicken Thou me."
'^ I believe the resurrection of the body, and the life
everlasting. Amen."
All through life man's thought is the same.
Why does the educated man go on learning ever all
through life? If death ends all, let us eat and
drink, and crown ourselves with rosebuds before
they be withered. But noble souls cannot do this.
There is within them an uncontrollable instinct of
progress. To the last they gather and lay up store,
and cannot be persuaded by appearances to believe
that their labour will be lost, their pains wasted,
33° ^:0ljts^ntlT ^untra^ aft^r tetttt^,
their treasure useless. Nowhere in animate creation
do we find an instinct without its fulfilment, and
man has an instinct of immortality : —
" Thou wilt not leave us in the dust : '
Thou madest man, he knows not why ;
He thinks he was not made to die ;
And Thou hast made him : Thou art just."
So the spiritual man's complaint is, ^' My soul
cleaveth to the dust ; " and his unceasing prayer to
his God, '' Quicken Thou me." His never-ceasing
aspiration is for fife; his daily labour is against
the incoming of spiritual death. Lusts flesh-born
clamour for indulgence, but he knows that the end
of these things is death, and he fights against them
for life, and cries upward to One higher, mightier,
*^ Quicken Thou me." Habits, customs, sins, earth-
born, caught like infectious diseases bred from
degraded and foul men, lower over the man, creep
upon him, smother him in their lethal folds; ap-
palled, ready to perish, he lifts up his voice and
groans, ^' Quicken Thou me : " —
" Wearied, I loathe myself, I loathe my sinning.
My stains, my festering sores, my misery.
Thou the Beginning ; Thou at my beginning
Didst see me, and didst foresee
Me miserable, me sinful, ruined me ;
I plead Thyself with Thee."
Intellects, developed out of all proportion, occupied
only with one idea, deny the very existence of spirit ;
with shrewd induction, with pitiless logic, with cold,
heartless facts and theories, they tell the man that
he is but an animal, an automaton, a fragment of
nature, as helpless as a stone, without will, without
soul, soon to be annihilated. But his living soul
within him gives the lie to the argument that he
cannot answer. He can do nothing else, but he
betakes him instinctively to prayer — " Mine enemies
(BtQhtttnth ^nnha^ after Crintt^. 33 1
speak evil of me; when shall he die, and his name
perish ? My soul cleaveth to the dust ; quicken Thou •■
me, according to Thy Word."
^'According to Thy Word," — the materialist has
but one idea, "According to law." The spiritual
man sees himself made in the image of GOD, with
will, with freedom, with affections, able to rule the
brute forces of nature, and therefore he says,
''According to Thy Word." He has been taught
that, '' Like as a father pitieth his children, so is the
Lord merciful." He too believes in law, but he sees
behind it the Lawgiver. He allows that nature is
a revelation of GOD, but he knows that, as a man's
works show what he is, so and much more his words
tell his thoughts, his will, his affections ; and jESUS
Christ is the revelation of GOD, "the Word of
God," telling us GOD's will, showing us God'S love,
teaching us GOD's purposes, as no blind laws can
tell us, as no dead matter can paint them to us, as no
speechless creation, however vast, however beauti-
ful, can possibly reveal them. As the cold marble
bust is inferior to the living, breathing, thinking,
loving man, so are man's theories of morality, and
the materialist's fancies respecting natural religion,
cold and impotent, compared with the living power
of the human life of jESUS CHRIST.
The spiritual man therefore prays, " Quicken
Thou me, according to Thy Word," according to
the Word of GOD, CHRIST Jesus, the perfect Man,
God manifest in human flesh. By Him he knows
what to desire, how to live. In Him he sees the
possibilities of human nature. Comparing himself
with Him, he sees his own failings, he knows what
he wants, what he must aim at and pray for, what
he may become. CHRIST is life; by being united
to Him, man's soul, cleaving to the dust, is quick-
ened; he draws down life into it from Him.
Everywhere man looks out of himself for spiritual
332 C^ijjlrtEfitttlr ^un&a^ after fentt^.
help; gradually light has dawned upon his soul
from above. GOD has been known more and more,
just as the increasing daylight discovers what is
round us. In the night there are vague, vast
shadowy masses, that assume weird forms and
seem to threaten us, for we cannot judge of size,
or distance, or solidity. Then the faint dawn puts
many things into their places, and gives hope of
better things to come. Gradually light increases,
and the terrors of night flee away. Colour appears;
our prospect widens, till, when the sun bursts forth,
beauty and order are seen everywhere, and the
world as it is, and always was, is before our eyes.
So has it been with man's knowledge of GOD.
At first brute ignorance ; then vague terror ; now
wonder, adoration, joy, love, trust.
And still we look on. The perfect day has not
yet come. We still see through a glass darkly ; but
experience creates hope. We look by faith for more
light ; light without shadow, day without eventide ;
progress, not retrogression; light overpowering dark-
ness, life conquering death ; not man going down to
destruction with created things, but man with GOD
going onward and upward, when worlds and their
laws have done their work and have passed away.
i^metcentfj Suntiag after Erinitg.
GOD TO us— WHAT WE ARE TO HIM.
The world around us is made known to us only
through the medium of our senses. We see, hear,
smell, touch, taste, and so our mind forms certain
conclusions and opinions ; and if in any man these
senses are disorganised, his knowledge of the things
outside himself is at once affected. The blind man
does not know the world as it actually is ; his im-
pressions and ideas must be different from ours
who see, and they must be more or less erroneous,
or at the least imperfect. So, too, if the sense be
not altogether wanting, but only weak or morbid
in its action, the man still is affected in his know-
ledge of the objects of that sense ; the world is the
same, but to him it is different from what it is to
other men ; as, for instance, in the case of colour-
blindness, or short sight, or weak sight.
There is every reason to believe that there are
many objects, things, and persons about us which
we cannot recognise only because our senses are
too limited to take notice of them. Nor is this
all. The world and men and circumstances may
be always the same, and yet different men, or even
the same men under different circumstances, will
find these things quite different to them. The
astronomer, with his scientific knowledge, looks at
the moon and the stars with one idea, and the
dull clown regards them with another, and the
fanciful child with a third. The robust, healthy
333
334 l^ttteteetttl^ ^^untra^ after Cnntt^.
man rejoices in the sun and wind and breaking
sea, while the poor disease-stricken invahd seeks
only shelter and quiet and repose. When we
are well, we sit down to our food with appetite;
what we eat pleases us, and does us good ; but if
we are sick, we loathe the very sight of food, and
what we eat causes pain and discomfort, and is
rather poison to us than strength and nourishment.
The same man, when he has heard some good news
or received an accession of fortune, takes a very
different view of life, and of men and things, from
that which he does at another time, when he has
sustained a loss, or is worried and anxious and
desponding. With a pleasant companion and a
light heart everything looks bright; but with tire-
some people, or a secret grief, or a gnawing appre-
hension, the fairest prospect fails to please and
luxury and wealth lose all their value. The cheer-
ful, good-natured man carries an atmosphere about
with him; he forces people to be to him what he
is to them; while the cynical, the suspicious, the
ill-natured, actually stir up the same feeling in the
people with whom the}^ have to do. Men lament
their misfortunes, and complain against the provi-
dence of God, when indeed they are but reaping
the harvest which they have themselves sown.
So dependent are we upon our senses for our
impressions of the world around us, that there are
subtle theories maintained by some thinkers by
which they declare that material things do not really
exist at all, but that we live, as it were, in a dream,
tricked by the visions of the untrustworthy senses,
which constantly deceive us, and make us believe
that we are surrounded by a world that exists only
in our imagination. We know that mad people
thus live in unreality and fancy, and some would
have us believe that we are all more or less mad
and deluded.
^intUznth ^xxnha^ after f rttttt^. 335
But be this as it may, this is evidently certain,
the world is to us a great deal what we are to it.
There is a world without, and a world within us,
and our ultimate impression is the result of the
action of these two upon each other.
If this is evidently the case with regard to all
that relates to man and the things of this present
life, might we not expect that the same law would
hold good with respect to GOD and the things that
concern Him and the soul ? GOD and His law and
will and revelation are the same and invariable,
but different men, and the same man under different
circumstances, view them in very different ways.
So it is that strange theories about religion arise.
So it is that all men can find arguments for their
pet theories in the Bible. And GOD, Who has made
each one of us a free and responsible agent, respects
His own ordinance, and will not compel our faith
and obedience. Nay, He is of necessity to us what
we are to Him. '^ With the holy Thou shalt be holy,
and with the perfect man Thou shalt be perfect;
with the clean Thou shalt be clean, and with the
froward Thou shalt learn frowardness." So it was
that Michaiah answered Ahab according to his own
wishes, '^ Go up, and prosper," when he was going
to his death. So it was that the old prophet of
Samaria easily persuaded the prophet from Judah
to stay and eat bread with him, speaking lies in
the name of the LORD.
Was it not so with GOD when He was in the world
in human flesh ? To those who came to Him to
argue He gave puzzHng questions, and they went
away bafQed, caught in the net they had laid. Thus
He proposed the question of the baptism of John,
that of the son of David being also his Lord, and
His statement as to building the Temple in three
days. He met subtlety with subtlety. So when the
father of the dying child came to Him with the doubt-
33^ iS^ittctBEtttlr ^itntra^ after fettxt^.
ing, ungracious words, " If thou canst do anything,"
His reply was in the same strain, *' If thou canst
believe." Contrast this with His loving gentleness
to repentant sinners, the Magdalen, the thief on the
Cross. Those whose hearts were ready saw and
loved Him; others could see nothing to be desired
in Him, and some hated Him, and were not content
till they had murdered Him. His words fell into
some hearts that were like the good and prepared
ground; it took root at once and flourished; while
the same gracious message lay and rotted within
others, or was snatched away, or was smothered,
and was ineffectual, though it was really omni-
potent.
So, then, now we can turn back to those words
which we have read in the first Lesson this morn-
ing, '^Thus saith the LORD; Every man of the
house of Israel that setteth up his idols in his heart,
and putteth the stumbHng-block of his iniquity be-
fore his face, and cometh to the prophet, I the LORD
will answer him that cometh according to the multi-
tude of his idols ; " and we can see what they mean.
These men came to GOD by His prophet, but kept
their idols in their hearts, and GOD said He would
answer them according to the multitude of their
idols. It could not be otherwise; they had per-
verted their senses, and God seemed to them other-
wise than He was ; His voice. His face. His hand,
were all altered to them by their degradation ; they
were poisoned and weakened, and all their powers
were contorted. GOD stood before them in all His
glory and love and goodness, but, like a broken, ill-
made glass, their souls received an impression of
a hideous, fierce, bloodthirsty, capricious idol. His
voice called to repentance and offered boundless
mercy, but their ears heard not, or heard amiss, or
mistook the cunning voices of tempters and evil
ones for the voice of GOD. His dispensations of
providence were all ordered for their good, but to
them all seemed hard, cruel, unjust. And all this
not because GOD had changed to them, but because
they had changed to Him; not because He had
made them incapable of seeing and knowing and
believing, but because they had perverted and cor-
rupted and degraded themselves by the voluntary
choice of evil instead of good, and of idols which
embodied those evil things which they loved, in-
stead of God, the one Good.
What was then is still. GOD is true and one
and loving ; GoD would have all men to be saved ;
God is not the author of confusion and schism and
doubt, but of order and law and rule; but men's
sins and passions and mental Hcentiousness have
perverted all, and led them away to every sin and
every delusion. Idolatry is as prevalent to-day as
it was in the days of Ezekiel. GOD showed him
the Temple polluted with gods painted upon the
walls and raised up in the courts ; and now God's
temple is in the hearts of baptized Christians, and
there idols are set up, and adored and worshipped ;
and when these men come to GOD, He answers
them according to the multitude of their idols. One
man is secretly sensual and impure in life and
thought ; another gives his soul to making money ;
another brings everything to the test of his own
mind, and rejects what is too great for it to take
in its puny grasp. Of how many women Shake-
speare's words are true, "Their soul is in their
clothes " ! We are all endowed with spiritual facul-
ties, with powers to know and love GOD ; but these
powers may be in abeyance, uncultivated, overlaid
by gross habits, till we have lost all idea of GOD,
all desire for Him, all abihty to raise our souls
towards Him; just as the ignorant man stares help-
lessly at a book in a foreign language, or a poor dog
looks up into his master's face, and cannot answer
Y
33^ ^inztzznth ^xmtraj after tetttt^.
a word to all he says, or even put his own poor
thoughts into language.
What wonder, then, that these men fall into error,
and do not know GOD, and have doubts, and delu-
sions, and strange opinions and theories ? We all
know how the body may be injured by the indul-
gences of sensuality; we see how the mind may
break down if wrongly worked upon; so may the
soul be ruined and made unfit for its high vocation
if its powers are misused and misdirected, till it
becomes actually impossible for the man to know
and love GOD. In these days especially it is need-
ful to remind men of this, that seems so Httle known,
and less thought of, that the faculties of the mind
are to be used and governed in the same way as
those of the body. We have all natural instincts
and appetites and passions, but we know that these
must be used with moderation, restrained, limited ;
but many men who understand and practise this
with regard to the body and its functions and desires
act otherwise with the powers of the mind. To these
they give unbridled license ; these they indulge with-
out limit, without law or rule. They are, in fact,
mental sensualists and debauchees, and so they lose
faith and love, and the knowledge of GOD and of
truth, and embrace hideous errors, and debase them-
selves to infidelity and mere animal, temporal secu-
larism, believing that they shall die like the beasts,
and live no more. A telescope will not reveal the
distant star unless it is kept in perfect order. Even
an ordinary machine will not do its work if roughly
handled, or left to go rusty, or injured by being
used for some purpose for which it is not fit; so
men debase themselves till they are too low, too
animal, to see GOD ; so others use all their faculties
for this world's business or pleasures, so that they
become perverted and bent out of shape, and are
utterly incapable of anything spiritual. The soul is
^intUtnth ^utttra^ after f^rtnit^. 339
a far more delicate machine than a telescope or an
engine, and may soon get out of order, and be
spoiled, and utterly ruined.
Surely the mental faculties should be restrained
and regulated as well as those of the body. Surely
God has given laws of thought as well as laws of
life. Surely we must know that the mind's powers,
as well as those of the body, are limited and circum-
scribed, and that there are bounds beyond which we
may not go. Surely, as there are deeds which we are
well content never to have done, so there are fields
of speculation which we may be well content never
to have trodden. There are tempter- voices offering
us the knowledge of good and evil ; there are sneers
that we are slaves and cowards, children, dotards,
and antiquated bigots; just as those who indulge in
sensuality, or live for the world and for themselves,
sneer at those who live by another and higher rule.
But we care not, for we know that we have chosen
that good part which shall not be taken away from
us. We have learned that GOD is very great,
and that we are very little ; that He is the infinite
Creator, and that we are weak and finite creatures ;
and, better still, we have learned that GOD is our
dear Father, and that we are His children and
heirs. We see His love in the Cross. We know His
hatred of sin. His aids and helps. To Him we
come, purging our hearts of all idols by the thorough
and ever-repeated cleansing of repentance and con-
fession of sin, knowing that it is the pure in heart
only who shall see GOD. Of Him we ask light and
love, and purity and faith. In Him we trust, in the
midst of infirmity and sorrow and doubt. His Spirit
bears witness to our spirit. We receive grace for
grace, and therefore we leave in His hands the
unanswered riddles and tangled puzzles of life now,
and the great unknown future, and we know that all
will be well.
2Ctoenttetfj Suntiag after Erinitg.
THE COLLECT FOR THE SUNDAY.
*^ The days are evil," and therefore we pray in the
Collect to-day that we may be " kept from all things
that may hurt us;" just as our LORD taught us to
pray daily, " Deliver us from evil ; " evil without
and within, evil spirits and evil men, evil that is
evident and confessed, and evil that is disguised
and misnamed good. In all ages sober and earnest
men have groaned under the evil of the times they
lived in. Horace tells us that it is sign of old age
to praise bygone times and to depreciate the pre-
sent. Youth may for a few years rejoice in the
present, and speak well of life as it finds it ; but evil
days come sooner or later, and men change their
tone from the major to the minor key, as experience
ripens them or sours them.
But Christianity ripens men, and does not sour
them. Of it it is true, " Honourable age is not
that which standeth in length of time, nor that is
measured by number of years, but wisdom is the
grey hair unto men, and an unspotted life is old age.
The righteous man, being made perfect in a short
time, hath fulfilled a long time."
Every one desires to be kept from that which will
hurt them, and yet men run headlong upon hurtful
things ; just as children, through ignorance, would
cat poison-berries because they are pretty -looking,
and cry and fret because they may not do v/liat
would bring them injury or death.
ClncttttEtlr ^ittttra^ after Crxttttf. 34 1
The fact is, wisdom is needed to see what is really
hurtful, and to avoid it. " There is no fool so great
as an old fool." If years and experience do not give
men wisdom, where shall we look for it ? Therefore,
the godly man can honestly say, " I am wiser than
the aged, because I keep God'S commandments."
A surgical operation is hurtful, and yet the wise
man seeks it, if he knows that the result will give
him health and prolong life. It is hurtful to deny
oneself pleasures and indulgences and to persevere
in duty, yet the wise man does so, and therefore
he prays without reserve that GOD will '' keep him
from all things that may hurt him," leaving it abso-
lutely to God to say what is and what is not hurtful.
His wisdom teaches him to rely upon the Infinite
Wisdom, and to entrust himself and all his ways to
the good providence of his Heavenly Father.
" Thy will be done ; deliver us from evil ; " we use
these words daily, and sometimes perhaps lightly,
but they are gravest words, words fit for highest
and most perfected saints, living supernatural lives
in the midst of an evil world. So the godly wealthy
man takes his wealth in his hand and goes upon
his knees, and says, ''Deliver us from evil; keep
me from all things that may hurt me;" and so
saying, he asks GOD to take away from him his
wealth, if to him it is an evil, if it is hurting him.
So with health and good name, dear ones of our
home, and all else that makes this life sweet. The
wise man, the Christian man, yields all to the wise
disposal of the Eternal Wisdom, and says, ''O
almighty and most merciful GOD, of Thy bountiful
goodness keep us, we beseech Thee, from all things
that may hurt us ; those things which for our blind-
ness we cannot ask, vouchsafe to give us."
Can we really say this ? Can we pray to-day as the
Church bids us pray ? We may test our Christian
position by this, and see how we stand, how far we
342 f^toctttietlr ^itntraj after ^rxttxt^.
have learned the lesson of the Gospel, how far we
have attained in the imitation of CHRIST, Whose
life-motto was, '' Not My will, but Thine be done."
" What !" you say, '' must I offer myself to be dealt
with absolutely as Gob wills? Must I ask Him
to give me poverty and pain, and sickness and
sorrows, and all that is most painful and repugnant
to human nature, if it will do me good, if God's
wisdom chooses it for me; to take away what I
value most, what is best and dearest, and, as it
seems, most indispensable to my happiness and
well-being ? Must I say —
' Thy way, not mine, O Lord,
However dark it be ;
Lead me by Thine own Hand,
Choose out the path for me.
Take Thou my cup, and it
With joy or sorrpw fill,
As best to Thee may seem.
Choose Thou my good and ill.
Choose Thou for me my friends,
My sickness, or my health.
Choose Thou my cares for me.
My poverty or wealth ' ? "
Yes, this is indeed what the Collect to-day says
for us. This is what we say daily in the Lord's
Prayer. Such is the height of our Christian calling,
not for saints, but for all and each.
Where men realise this, where they give them-
selves up in perfect trust to GOD'S disposal, having
no will but His, there the peace of GOD reigns in
their hearts, and they enjoy heaven already. Nothing
surprises them, nothing distresses them, nothing
shakes their confidence. They are passive in the
Hands of GOD, and all is well; and nothing can
by any means hurt them. May we learn more and
more this secret of happiness; then the days may
be evil, but there will be good times for us : —
^itrentietly ^unJra^ after i^rittttir. 343
" O Lord, how happy should we be
If we could cast our care on Thee ;
If we from self could rest,
And feel at heart that One above,
In perfect wisdom, perfect love.
Is working for the best !
O could we but relinquish all
Our earthly props, and simply fall
On Thine almighty Arms ! "
But this is not all, high and wonderful as it is.
There is yet another part of Christian life and duty
of which the Collect reminds us. We are also to
be ''ready both in body and soul to accomplish
those things that GOD would have done." Hitherto
we have spoken only of patient, passive submission
to God's will and providence ; this tells us that there
must also be active work, that the Christian life
may be truly lived. We must be ''ready both in
body and soul." There is much work to be done,
work for GOD and man and ourselves, work within !
and without ; not mere endurance of painful dispen- ;
sations, but fulfilment of vocation, the culture of the!
soul's powers, that it may be made what GOD intends
it to be, and the performance of relative duty, thej
regard for the welfare of others.
Here, as ever, our Lord's example is our pattern
and guide. His life was one long faultless perform-
ance of duty, one constant working of that which
He had to do. And all Christian lives are the
imitation of Him, with more or less success. He
was always "ready both in body and soul." He
always "accomplished that which He had to do."
With much pain and self-denial this was done, with
weary body and sorrowful soul. He plodded on
through hfe, till He slowly mounted the hill of
Calvary, and having done and endured all. He cried,
" It is finished," and rested from His labours in
death.
Like Him were His saints and martyrs. Like Him
344 i^tncntictlj ^uttira^ after Srinit^.
must we be '^ ready in body and soul." The body
rebels — sloth, indulgence, weariness, raise obstacles,
and make objections to accomplishing what GOD
would have done. The soul rebels — it too is dis-
inclined, preoccupied, led aside by many attractions
and affections. But both body and soul must be
schooled and trained, till they are ready to accom-
plish what God would have done.
But there is one word we have omitted — " cheer- *
fully." As we have seen that submission must be
glad and willing, so must work be cheerful, if it is
to be well done and accepted. Grudging, slavish
labour is never satisfactory. Those who have not
given themselves to GoD shrink from His service
with fear and abhorrence. They seem to be bidding
adieu to all happiness, when they think of taking up
the Cross. But in reaHty the first characteristic of
the true servant of GOD is cheerfulness. Not merely
peace, but joy. " In His presence is fulness of joy."
They do GOD's work and will ^' as it is in heaven,",
and there all is done gladly and cheerfully.
Here, then, is the antidote for ^' evil days." Here
is the remedy for heartache. Here is CHRIST'S
own rule of human life. Let us pray this week, as
the Church teaches us, every day, that this secret of,
a happy life may be ours ; that we may walk, not as
fools, but as wise; so shall we be not only called,
but chosen; so shall we not only sit down at the
marriage-feast, but be clothed with the wedding-
garment and enter into the joy of our Lord.
Etoentg^first cSuntiag after Erinttg.
THE MARTYR SPIRIT.
In the chapter preceding to-day's Lesson the account
is given of Daniel's interpretation of Nebuchadnez-
zar's dream. The king dreamed of a great image,
and Daniel told him that he, the king, was the
golden head which he saw upon it. Possibly this
may have led Nebuchadnezzar to the construction
of this enormous golden image, eighty-five feet high.
What the image was we are not told. We know
that primitive kings constructed huge statues of
themselves, and we know that they received divine
honours; so that it is supposed by many that
Nebuchadnezzar caused a figure of himself to be
made, and to be worshipped. But it is probable, for
several reasons, that this is not the exact account of
the matter. The dimensions given are not at all
those of the human figure. It is more likely that
the image was a gilded pillar, perhaps having the
king's head on the top, in remembrance of Daniel's
words, ^' Thou art the head of gold." Pillars of this
kind were common objects of worship among all
nations of the old world, and learned men tell us
what they meant. They were symbols of the power
of nature, the author and continual reproducer of
life.
This idea was at the root of all primitive idolatry.
Having lost the true key to the mystery of creation,
man groped about to find a meaning for the wonder-
34^ CtrrcnttT- first ^uttbaj after f^rtitttn.
ful system in which he found himself. Everywhere
he saw Hfe reproducing itself; and he sought the
wondrous hidden source of this mysterious power.
He noticed that the Sun was the great moving-
power, and he worshipped the Sun as GoD, or GOD's
vicegerent or representative. Then he imagined
that the different parts of nature had their spiritual
powers working unseen within them, and so man in-
vented deities of places and of the elements. Some-
times the wonderful instincts and properties and
powers of animals occupied man's thoughts, till he
imagined that in them divine power operated ; and
so animal-worship arose. The evidence of all this
is before us, in the remains of all ancient idolatries,
in every part of the world.
But there is also another -reason for supposing
that Nebuchadnezzar's image was a representation
of the powers of nature, from the hymn sung by the
three martyrs in the fire. What is the spirit and
keynote of that hymn " Benedicite " ? It is a detailed
relation of the powers and creatures of nature, and
a calling upon each in turn to praise and worship
God. See the fitness of this. The king set up an
image of nature's reproductive power, and com-
manded all to worship it. But these men said,
" Nature is not GoD, but GOD's creature. We
see the wonderful animals, the powerful elements;
we see the beast and herb reproducing themselves ;
we acknowledge the rule of angels; we admire the
courses of the stars, the order of the sun and moon,
and the seasons, and day and night, which they pro-
duce. We know how mysterious animal life is ; we
have noticed the rain and the wind, the ice and the
snow, lightnings and clouds, and all else in this
strange world ; but we have been taught in old
times by Goi) Himself that all these things were
made by Him, and that they still do His will.
Their beauty, their order, show forth His praise;
^toentir- first ^tintiati after i^rni:t|r. 347
we will not worship them, but we call upon them to
join with us in worshipping the one eternal GOD,
the Creator of all, who is even now vindicating
His sovereignty by suspending and overruHng the
ordinary laws of nature, and miraculously giving
us life and perfect security and repose, in the midst
of devouring fire."
Read thus, the hymn " Benedicite " has perfect fit-
ness, and a very beautiful and lofty meaning. The
Hebrews alone had the knowledge of the true GoD
and the history of creation. They had indeed fallen
themselves into idolatry, but now that the threatened
punishment had come upon them, their Temple de-
stroyed, their divinely ordered worship taken from
them, their national independence gone, their mag-
nificent promises forfeited, and they themselves
made slaves to a people utterly given up to idols,
now bitter experience once for all converted them
from idolatry, and led them back to the old paths ;
and they were ready to die rather than give the
incommunicable honour of GOD to king or image
or creature.
Perhaps we have thought that such Lessons as
that which is read this morning out of date. A
few generations ago men might have said that such
chapters of the Bible had lost their value, or at least
nearly all their apphcation to us and our day. But
old errors revive; the old enemies of the truth
^^ get them a new sword " and return to the battle.
The Beast, that seemed to have received a deadly
wound, is healed, and men marvel after it, as St.
John tells us in Revelation. The drift of modern
thought is towards the negative creed, "There is
no God." The golden image of nature is being
slowly, laboriously, at great cost, set up, and all
men are bidden to fall down and worship it. It is
Nebuchadnezzar's image over again — nature without
God — nature self-existent, self-sufiicient — nature's
348 CtocntiT- first .^itntia^j after Crtnttti.
lawS; and with them man's laws — these instead of
God and His revelation of truth. The despotism
of kings is gone; but there are other despotisms
besides that of kings, and they are very tyrannous.
Such a despotism is fashion, whether it insists
upon a foolish style of dress or a particular line of
thought; and the latter, very often, has no more
sound reason at its foundation than the former.
A statement, or a theory, or a system does not
become true because it is vehemently maintained
by a popular teacher, or because a great many
people follow one another blindly in accepting it.
People are not burnt in these days because they
will not follow with the multitude. It is not the
fashion. But it is very hard to stand alone against
everybody, or even against a majority. We are not
commanded to bow down to a golden image now-
a-days on pain of death ; but that which the New
Testament calls ^' the World " is still a real enemy,
and one very hard to stand against.
The actual city of Babylon has been a shapeless
ruin these many years, and yet we read of Babylon
in Revelation as the enemy of godly souls even to
the very last days. The fact is Babylon still reigns
and rules. The spirit that prevailed there still tyran-
nises, still commands men to apostatise from GOD ;
and nothing but the martyr's spirit of these three
Hebrew heroes will keep men from yielding. The
boy at school is tempted to do what he knows is
wrong, and he does it, unless he has this martyr's
spirit. All through a man's life this temptation is
at his side — nay, in his heart. Conscience says
^^ No," but he looks out upon the world, as men
looked out upon the plain of Dura that bright, sunny
morning, with hosts of men bowing with one accord
to the image, and it is hard not to do as others do,
especially when the opposite course involves such
unpleasant consequences.
t^itient^-tet ^untta^ after Crttttt^* 349
'' I write unto yoii; young men/' said St. John,
" because ye are strong, and the word of GOD
abideth in you, and ye have overcome the wicked
one." How to be strong St. Paul tells us in the
Epistle this morning. It is the strong who over-
come, the brave, those with whom the Word, jESUS
Christ, abides, as He did with these three in the
furnace. Young men sin for the most part because
they are cowards, because they cannot stand being
laughed at, because they are afraid of being different
from others, because they are afraid to do what is
right when it is unpleasant, and involves discom-
fort or exertion or self-sacrifice. It is weakness of
character that is the cause of half men's sins. Men
pretend that godly people are mean-spirited and
cowards. They say it to try and divert the true
charge from themselves. They know that they
themselves are what they are because they are
cowards, afraid of other people, afraid of the manly
pain of self-denial, afraid to say '' No " to the
demands of those three great tyrants, the World,
the Flesh, and the Devil.
Yes, the godly man is always a brave man. The
sinful man is always a coward. The godly man
may not be called to give up his fife with the
martyrs, but he is always called to give up some-
thing for God's sake, for conscience' sake, to suffer
something, rather than do wrong. But his suffering
brings his LoRD to his side now, and v/ill bring him
to his Lord's side hereafter.
Etoentg^rSeconti Suntiag after Crtnitg.
RESTING WITHIN THE HANDS OF GOD.
It was said by man's Maker in the beginning, " It
is not good for man to be alone." There was, and
there is, a wider and a deeper meaning in the words
than that which indicates that woman should be
man's true helpmeet. There is much loneliness be-
sides that which human companionship can remedy.
The heart may, and does sometimes,
" Feel more utterly alone
For friends officious pressing round."
^' Miserable comforters are ye all ! " cries many a
desolate soul, even in the midst of life's best, even
when friends are doing all they can. There is a
place in the heart that no human consolation can
fill. There are deeps that answer not to the deeps
of the warmest sympathy, of the tenderest love.
The widespread misery of the world, the most
intolerable agony of the poor wandered spirit, is the
want of the sense of the presence and comfort of
God:—
" A distant GOD
Is what I cannot bear."
Some know what they want, and cry out in their
desolation. The Psalms are full of such cries, of
which the Son of Man availed Himself in His
moment of utmost need, wailing out, ^' My GOD,
My God ! why hast Thou forsaken Me ? "
3SO
W>iaznt^'Zztonb ^untra^r after f^rinit^, 351
But many are lonely, they know not why. They
are stricken with spiritual disease that they cannot
understand. Their lower self flees from GOD, and
screams, ^' What have I to do with Thee ? " while
their higher nature is athirst for GOD, and is dying
within them, and by its death-throes is wrecking
and destroying the feebler material frame : —
" Poor blind souls
That writhe toward heaven along the devil's trail !
Who knows, I thought, but He may stretch His hand
And pick them up ? 'Tis written in the Book,
He heareth the young ravens when they cry ;
And yet they cry for carrion."
There can be no greater contrast than that which
is presented on the one hand by the writings of
cynics and pessimists, of materialists and worn-out
voluptuaries, of secularists and heathen philosophers,
and on the other hand by the writers of the Psalms.
The first sneer, drag forth horrors, and rejoice to
paint them black, carp and complain, preach despair,
deny GOD, or blaspheme Him. The Psalmists see
the evil as plainly as the others, but they never lose
their trust in GOD, and they look up to Him alone
for a remedy. And when they give expression to
the sorrows of their own hearts, their most agonising
cries are alternated with words of hope. So our
Lord, in His desolation upon the Cross, used words
from the Psalms, as we have seen, but presently
from the same Book He borrowed words of confi-
dence, and died saying, ^[ Father, into Thy Hands I
commend My Spirit." So David in the 31st Psalm,
in the midst of heartrending utterances, wrung
from him by cruel sufferings, can yet say, '' My
times are in Thy Hand," and end the psalm with
praise and thanksgiving, calHng upon others in like
need to do as he has done, and promising them help
and comfort at last : '' Be of good courage, and He
352 f^hjcnt^i-acrontr ^utttra^ after OTnittt^*
shall strengthen your heart, all ye that hope in the
Lord."
Let us try for a few moments to enter into the
spirit of David's thought, '^ My times are in Thy
Hand." First, past time. Whence do we come ?
Who knows but GOD ? The Orientals teach that
man's spirit has already had many lives. We
doubt this, but we are learning more and more
how closely we are bound to the unknown past.
The Psalmist believes that God'S eye marked and
watched him, and that His Hand moulded his frame,
yet unborn ; but modern science leads us much
farther back, and tells us that our passions, our
tastes, our talents, our infirmities, are due to here-
dity, to far-off ancestry and prehistoric influences.
What new force does this give to the thought, '' My
times are in Thy Hand " ! I am not, then, a waif,
thrown out by accident, the creature of caprice, a
thing of the moment. My beginnings are far away
in the dim, unrecorded past. Nature travailed in
birth of me, under His laws, through long centuries.
My escutcheon has many quarterings. I was very
old before I was young. By the will of GOD I am
what I am.
But presently my own will began to act. GOD
gave me myself, and bade me, if I would be wise
and well, bend my will to His will, follow His lead-
ing. I was in His Hands, His child, His servant,
His creature, but free to wrench myself away if I
would.
Look back on past years, and see the Hand of
God in all and in each. And if we could know
as we are known, how much more should we see !
How truly should we find that our time was in His
Hand!
Our present time — this too is in the Hand of GOD.
Alas, how little have we learned by past experience !
How small our store of wisdom ! How strong is
Wbitnt^-zttonh ^iinbav after tenit^. 353
passion and mere human nature ! How weak the
spiritual sight that should see GOD always ! Plea-
sure and prosperity, trouble and suffering, seem
alike and equally to make us forget GOD and our
dependence. Is the keynote of our life, ^' My times
are in Thy Hand " ? Do we believe it ? Do we
wish it ? Does it one while restrain our wanton-
ness, another while comfort us and lift up our
sinking hearts? The human spirit rebels against
it. The spirit of the age is clean contrary to it : —
" Here's the world half blind
With intellectual light, half brutalised
With civilisation, having caught the plague
In silks from Tarsus, shrieking east and west
Along a thousand railroads, mad with pain,
And sin too."
It needs a strong faith to-day, a firm and practised
Christianity, to enable a man to say, '^ My times are
in Thy Hand," and to live consistently with this
maxim of life. It seems sometimes as if things
went by chance. Men talk of their good or bad
luck. But the faithful servant of GOD cannot speak
so, and so the Septuagint translators rendered these
words, '' My lots are in Thy Hand," as if to con-
trovert all idea of blind accident in the affairs of life.
" The lot is cast into the lap, but the disposing
thereof is of the LORD."
No one pretends to understand the mysteries of
God's providence. They are too hard for the
wisest, and had better be left. The only attitude
here, as in so many circumstances of Hfe, is the
child-like spirit that our LORD commends, the spirit
of trust in a Wiser than ourselves, in One Who loves
us. Who is guiding us by the best way, though the
way may be rough and painful and weary, and full
of what seem to be mere traps to make us fall, as
they do : —
z
354 fccnt^-sernntr ^untiair after ©rtnit^.
For,
I do not ask, O Lord, that Thou shouldst shed
Full radiance here ;
Give but one ray of peace, that I may tread
Without a fear.
I do not ask my cross to understand,
My way to see ;
Better in darkness just to feel Thy Hand
And follow Thee."
" God, in cursing, gives us better gift
Than men in benediction."
It is very humiliating to human pride ; it is
irksome almost beyond endurance to the human
spirit that craves for Hberty, thus to yield oneself
blindly, unresistingly, to the guiding of God's Hand,
to uncomplaining suffering, to disappointed hopes, to
crushing surprises; yet this is the result of faith
in God; this is the attitude of godly men in all
ages ; this is the force of the utterance, " My times
are in Thy Hand."
It is not fatalism, the dreary creed of the Stoic,
of Mahomet, of Calvin, of the modern materiahst.
If indeed that were true, then
" 'Twere best at once to sink to peace,
Like birds the charming serpent draws,
To drop head-foremost in the jaws
Of vacant darkness, and to cease."
The Christian believes in no Fates, that compel
even the hands of the gods. He does not recognise
arbitrary election to salvation or damnation. He
believes firmly in law, but he looks up beyond it
to a Lawmaker, Whose hands are not tied. Whose
will is free. Whose justice is perfect. Whose love is
infinite. Whose mercy endureth for ever.
From present time to future time the transition
is easy and natural. The same faith is held with
respect to both, '' My times are in Thy Hand.''
This psalm has, from the earliest ages, been used
t^Inent^-sicrontr ^tttttra^ after i^rinitn. 355
at Compline, the last daily office of prayer, said just
before retiring to sleep, the ever-recurring type of
death. The future is unknown, and seems to be
utterly out of our power, specially, solely, as some
think, in GOD'S Hands alone; and yet this is not
strictly so. ^'The past bears in her arms the
present and the future." "The future does not
come before to meet us, but comes streaming up
from behind over our heads."
Do we not tell our children, "Your future is in
your own hands " ? Has it not been truly said,
" The boy is father to the man " ? Does not Holy
Writ declare, "Whatsoever a man soweth, that
shall he reap " ? We speak lightly sometimes of
years that are past and "gone." They are not
gone. They live still in the present, and will live
in the future. It is true to-day, and it will be true
at the hour of death and at the Day of Judgment,
" My past time is in Thy Hand." We were writ-
ing our future history by yesterday's acts. Nothing
is lost, nothing is forgotten, nothing is with-
out results and consequences. We are "workers
together with GOD;" neither He alone, nor we
alone. Where the lines are drawn, that divide His
work from ours we know not. Our freedom and
God's omnipotence and providence are knit together,
as soul and body are knit together. To us the
bands seem a tangled maze. It is useless to try
and comprehend this mystery. We must just leave
it, as we leave the knowledge of the worlds that
may circulate round Sirius. We have no faculties
adapted for such questions. The well is deep, and
we have nothing to draw with.
What then ? We come back, as to the future,
to where we found ourselves with respect to the
present, to the child-like spirit of faith and trust
and love ; by necessity, by choice.
Whoso loves, believes the impossible. The past
35^ ^tatnt'^-zztonh ^utttrair after ©rxttttii.
lowers over us, heavy with faikire, with sins. It
is in the Hands of GOD, out of our reach ; we cannot
undo it. What can we do but cry, ^' Father, I have
sinned ; be merciful to me, a sinner " ? What can
we do but simply believe that "if we confess our
sins. He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins,
and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness " ? —
"Thrice blest whose lives are faithful prayers."
The future is veiled; we are stepping on into
darkness. We know not what shall be on the
morrow. We cannot imagine where and what we
should be an hour hence, if we were to die at this
moment. What rest, then to be able to say, " My
times are in Thy Hand " ! My GOD, my Saviour,
my Father, I am Thine; I commit myself to Thee,
for to-morrow, in life, in death, for eternity !
5rtoents4{|trti Suntiag after Eriuita*
CAESAR'S IMAGE, AND GOD'S IMAGE.
There are two occasions recorded in the Gospels
where our LORD was questioned respecting the
paying of tribute, and on both occasions an attempt
v/as made by His enemies to betray him into taking
action that would have been used against Him.
The first trap that was laid for Him was with
regard to the tax that had been levied for the
support of the Temple services, and which had
taken the place of the free-will offerings of the
people, which in better days had supplied all that
was wanted. A certain party among the stricter
Pharisees objected to this tax, and it was hoped,
by those who wished our LORD ill, that they might
be able to represent Him as belonging to this fac-
tion, that so He might be placed in a minority and
in opposition to the rulers and the majority of the
devout Jews. We know how our Lord by a most
unusual miracle supplied the money that sufficed
to pay the tax for Peter and Himself.
But the incident related in to-day's Gospel was
a deeper and more deadly plot against Him. The
Roman dominion was especially irksome to the
patriotic Israelite, and an obvious policy for a
popular leader to adopt would be to proclaim the
people's liberty and to urge them to refuse to pay
the Roman taxes. ^' Judas of Galilee " did this, and
tried to become a national hero by raising the cry,
357
35^ Slncntii-tljirtr ^untra^ after tentt^.
*^Down with the Roman tribute!" If our LoRD
had answered the question put to Him and said,
^^ It is not lawful to give tribute to Caesar," then
these men would have gone at once to Pilate and
denounced Him as '' forbidding to give tribute to
Caesar, saying that He Himself is CHRIST, a King,"
and would have got rid of Him by rousing Roman
jealousy and vengeance.
But if our Lord had repHed directly, as they
tried to force Him to reply, that it was lawful to
pay the Roman impost, then He would have been
held up to popular execration, as no true Israelite,
much less the promised MESSIAH, Who should free
His people from all usurped dominion, and re-
store again the glorious kingdom of David and of
Solomon.
Here was the dilemma, from which there seemed
no escape. Our LORD, however, not only escaped
the snare laid for Him, but put His enemies to
shame and silence. Instead of answering yes or
no, as they thought He would be obliged to do.
He said, '^ Show Me the tribute money." This they
unsuspectingly did, and He immediately points to
its impress, and asks them what it displays. On
the former occasion the coin was the Jewish shekel,
coined by themselves, bearing only Jewish emblems.
But this ^' penny," as our translation has it, was a
Roman denarius, with the head of Tiberius Caesar
on the obverse, and on the reverse pagan emblems,
and the date, '^ After the conquest of Judaea." This
coin was at the time current in the market and in
all business, especially in all transactions with the
Romans. The nation had accepted it. For, wearied
out and almost ruined by factions and party-warfare,
a powerful body of Jews had some time before
gone to Rome and begged for protection, law, order,
and peace. A Roman army had in consequence
been sent, and Jerusalem taken. A new province
teTtntf-t]|T:r& ^nntia^T after fenxt^i. 3S9
had been added to the Roman Empire, and as a
matter of course the taxes had been levied that
were the necessary return for the expenses of pro-
tection and the maintenance of a governor and a
garrison to keep order.
Our Lord's act, therefore, simply showed the
mixed body of Pharisees and Herodians, who for
the moment had set aside their mutual animosity,
that they might destroy Him whom they equally
hated, that the question put to Him did not require
an answer, for it had been answered long ago by
their own acts. The hard logic of fact did away
with the possibility of opinion. They, not He, had
made a bargain, and they were bound to abide by
it. They had received the boon they had demanded ;
they had no choice but to pay the price which they
knew it would cost. They had already said, ''We
have no king but Caesar; " He said therefore, ''Render
to Caesar the things that are Caesar's." He did not
say "Give," make a present. Give what you can
give or withhold, as you please ; not Sot€, but aTro-
SoT€, " Render; " i.e., repay, restore, pay a debt, give
back what is not yours at all, but Caesar's by right.
It is a question of simple honesty, not of HberaHty,
or even of choice.
The men are silenced and shamed, but the Teacher
sent from GOD desires something better than this,
and so He adds, " Render to GOD the things that are
God's." We will not stay to notice the special force
of this exhortation as addressed to those who were
before our LORD at the moment, nor how it gains
strength by its connection with what had immediately
gone before ; but we will try and see the perpetual
lesson that the words teach, and what the Church
would have us learn from them to-day, when she
selects them for our especial remembrance and in-
struction in the Gospel.
Does not our LORD seem, on the face of it, to
360 CltieittiJ-tlTirtr Sixntra^i after QTrintt^,
imply that there is some sort of analogy between
the two acts, the rendering to Caesar his due and
the rendering to GOD what is His ? Let us think.
Our Lord's questioner is standing before Him with
a Roman coin in his hand, and our LORD is pointing
to the coin while He utters this twofold command.
Let us too look, and examine the piece of money.
It is made of silver, dug out of the ground. The
metal is not quite pure, but has a certain amount
of alloy in it. It has a conventional, not a real
value. Its value also diminishes by use; it gets
worn away, so that in time its nominal and extrinsic
value becomes still greater than its intrinsic value.
Does not this in a way represent and typify
human nature, ourselves ? Our bodies are of the
earth, and there is a strange mixture in us of good
and evil. We hear it said of some that they are
^' too good for this world," and that something else
is required besides purity and rectitude of those who
would ^'get on in the world;" just as it has been
found by experience that absolutely pure metal does
not answer so well for money as that which has
been hardened by some baser alloy. Then again,
are not men very generally estimated and valued at
their own price, and do they not sometimes pass
current, like the coins of the realm, for more than
they are really worth ? Circumstances, not merit,
very often give men place and estimation, and rank
and position command respect, which the man in
himself in nowise deserves.
So we can understand what our LORD says about
the last bei'ng first, and the first last, when all things
will be laid bare, and the truth alone will be seen,
and when the balance of the sanctuary will detect base
coins, and the fire will try all things, and sterling
metal only will stand the test. So, too, does it not
sometimes happen with men as it happens with coins
that are much used and long circulated ? Does not
^ixicntjr-thivb ^unhn^ after Srinitij. 361
mixing with the world and passing through its busi-
ness and its pleasures and its sins wear off the
brightness of simplicity, of truth, of integrity? Does
not the conscience become deadened, and the moral
standard get lowered, and the whole tone and value
of the man become depreciated, and many an in-
delible mark deface the fair fame, till the man in
heart sadly realises that he is not, and can never be
again, what he once was, and what some others are ;
that purity has been lost, and that the knowledge of
and contact with sin is injurious and debasing; and
that, though repentance may save the man from ruin,
he can never take the place that might once have
been his, the place that is near to GOD, and is re-
served for the pure in heart who have kept them-
selves unspotted by the world ?
But we must look at the ''penny" again, for it
has still more to teach us about ourselves. It bears
the image of the king. And what are we told of
man at the beginning but that he was made in the
image of GOD ? But man fell. The image and like-
ness were defaced, and when he desired restoration
he could find no way to it. The original die was
lost. Good men searched earnestly for it, but could
not find it. All the varied religious systems were
the result of this — searching for the die, trying to
find a perfect model, a rule of life, a standard of
human excellence.
But at last, in the fulness of time, it was given to
the world by GOD. CHRIST came a Man, yet the
image of the invisible GOD, perfect Man, in Whom,
as in Adam at the beginning, GOD was well pleased.
And by being conformed to His likeness man is
restored to his lost estate, the worn and battered
coin is recast in the original die, and the sin-debased
soul is born again, ^renewed, regenerated.
And so the ''superscription" finds its parallel.
First and by right the soul belongs to CHRIST, for He
3^2 f hicntii-iljtrtr ^uttt^aij after Srtttit^.
is King ; King, as LoRD of all ; King, upon the Cross,
when He purchased to Himself a Kingdom; King,
when, as St. John saw Him in visions of that which
shall be hereafter. He is crowned King of kings and
Lord of lords, adored by all, when all kingdoms
have become the Kingdom of GOD and of His
Christ. And then by our union with CHRIST this
title belongs to us also. The godly man is not only
^' lord of himself," a king, ruler, and conqueror, v/ho
has successfully rebelled against the Prince of this
world, but this title of king is by an apostle ascribed
to God's people, and they are told that they shall
reign with CHRIST in His Kingdom.
So the date upon the coin has also its counter-
part, for all the hope of the world, and the hope of
every individual soul, dates from Anno Domini, the
year of our Lord's victory over our enemies, sin
and Satan and death.
Now, then, we can see the force of our Lord's
second command, and how it runs step by step with
the former command. '* Render to GOD the things
that are God's," He says, for the same reasons, in
the same way, under the same circumstances, as
those men were bound to render to Caesar the
things that were already his by right.
We belong to GOD; for we are His creatures;
His by right of mastership, of ownership; His
because He has called us into being, and because
by His will alone we exist each moment and do not
drop into nothingness; more absolutely His than
the vessel belongs to the potter who makes it, and
can unmake it, destroy it, or turn it into something
else.
There is nothing within our cognisance that exactly
and fully represents the relation of a creature to its
Creator. His rights over us ar# absolute, and we
have no rights at all. Only it has pleased GOD to
give us Free Will, that we may dispose of ourselves
totittir-tlrirtr ^untrau after '^vinit'Q, 363
as we like ; and our wisdom, our happiness, as well
as our duty, is to render ourselves, body, soul, and
spirit, which are GOD's, to Him. Already by nature
we bear the image of GOD ; already we are His by
creation. But we are twice His. He has redeemed
us, purchased us back from self-imposed slavery
and captivity, by His death; and in token of this
we bear His superscription, the symbol of allegi-
ance, the badge of our service. The Cross is upon
our foreheads, visible still to Him and to the holy
angels.
And now our hfe-work is to conform ourselves
more and more to His likeness, to live in Him, to
be crucified with Him, to rise with Him, and live in
newness of life, rendering ourselves a free-will offer-
ing, a sacrifice wholly His; *^that we, beholding
with open face the glory of the LORD, may be
changed into the same image, from glory to glory,
by the Spirit of GOD." Even the body itself, as St.
Paul tells us in the Epistle to-day, shall be fashioned
Hke the risen Body of CHRIST, so that all the sons
of God shall have the Hkeness of the Family in
heaven ; though some shall display the likeness, as it
were, in gold, some in silver, and some of us, alas !
probably in yet poorer metal. But all will be
gathered in to the treasury of GOD, and each will
count for one, though it be but one of the two mites
that make a farthing.
2rtoent2::fourt|) Suntrag after Ertnits*
' THE CHURCH'S HUSBANDRY.
The Church reckons her Seasons, not from the
natural year, but from the life of her LORD. His
Birth she takes as her new year, only anticipating
it with four weeks of preparation, mindful of His
second coming while she commemorates the first.
There is no interim in her work and testimony ; the
completion of one work is but the beginning of
another. When her message is given and finished,
she turns back to its beginning and commences it
again.
In the old ritual of France the herald stood at
the grave of his deceased lord and proclaimed aloud,
'' The King is dead ! " but then he added immedi-
ately, '' God save the King," for the King still lived
in his son and successor. So the Church follows
her Lord yearly from Bethlehem to Calvary, and
then presently returns again to Bethlehem, thus
ever walking in her LORD'S steps, and waiting and
witnessing till her time has been completed and her
Lord Himself comes to relieve her of her watching.
The sun's regular course through the heavens, day
by day and year by year, is an ever-present type
of Christ, '' the Light of the world ; " and the moon,
duly following, waxing and waning, deriving all
light from the sun, and shedding it down upon the
earth, has ever seemed to devout minds to be a
type of the Church, which has received all from her
364
i^ltT£ttt^-f0urtlT c^itntraij after l^rmttir, 3^5
Lord, and bears witness to Him even when He is
unseen.
At the Creation it was said that the sun, moon,
and stars should be for signs, as well as for seasons.
We Christians know partly now what that means,
and doubtless we have yet more to learn ; for in all
prophecies of things to come the sun and moon
and stars are ever introduced, and play their part
in the mystic circumstances. But, as ever, the type
■fails to give the fulness of the antitype. When the
covenant of Creation was renewed after the Flood,
it was promised that ''while the earth remaineth,
seed-time and harvest, and cold and heat, and
summer and winter, and day and night, shall not
cease." When GOD made His special covenant
with Israel, larger promises still were given : '' I
will give rain in due season, and the land shall yield
her increase, and the trees of the field shall yield
her fruit, and your threshing shall reach into the
vintage, and the vintage shall reach into the sowing-
time ; " and to-day we read in Amos a promise yet
more wonderful : " Behold, the days come, saith the
Lord, that the plowman shall overtake the reaper,
and the treader of grapes him that soweth seed."
This, surely, is something more than abundance of
the fruits of the earth; there is here some higher
kingdom than that of Israel, some better harvest
than that of corn, some vine more fruitful than
that of Eschol. Let us search and look; there is
treasure hid here in this old field ; let us take the
Gospel-candle and search this house, which its
former tenants have left; they were driven out in
shame and poverty and haste, but it may be they
have left things precious concealed behind them,
v/hich we may make our own merely by the pains
and trouble of searching diligently for them.
The first thing that we notice as we begin to
search diligently is this, that these last five verses
366 i^hieutji-fourtlj ^untra^ after Srinit^.
in Amos are quite different from all the book besides ;
every word that precedes them is threatening of
ruin and punishment. There is nothing but shame,
disgrace, and hopeless destruction prophesied till
we come to the eleventh verse of the ninth and last
chapter; then come promises, as wonderful and
boundless as were the threatenings of judgment
before. Next we find that Amos prophesied not at
Jerusalem, but at Samaria. His message was to the
rebel government and the schismatic Church that
Jeroboam the son of Nebat had set up ; and yet the
promise is made to David's seed, that his severed
kingdom shall be restored, and that, too, not by the
recovery of Samaria only, but by the possession of
the lands of the heathen, and specially of that vainly
desired Edom of which David had hopelessly spoken,
"Who will bring me into the strong city? who will
lead me into Edom ? "
Now, it is evident that no mere historical events
can satisfy the requirements of these prophecies.
We must search elsewhere for the meaning and
fulness of God's Word, which cannot fail or return
unto Him void ; and we must remember that GOD's
ways are not our ways, nor His thoughts our
thoughts. Turn we, then, to the Gospels, and we
soon find one incident there recorded that seems to
be connected with this prophecy by more Hnks than
one. The scene is laid again in this same Samaria
where Amos prophesied. There stands One by
Jacob's well, talking first with a Samaritan woman,
then with His disciples; and hear what He says,
".Say ye not there are yet four months, and then
Cometh harvest; behold, I say unto you. Lift up
your eyes and look on the fields, for they are white
already to harvest." Four months was the time
from sowing to reaping. The sower had but just
done his work, but now the reaper is said to be
overtaking him. For the Word had been sown ; it
^bsznt^-fonxth ^xtntra^ after Crxnxt^r. 367
was already springing up, and bringing forth fruit,
thirty, sixty, a hundred fold, among those Samari-
tans who believed ; the first-fruits of the Gospel be-
yond the pale of the Jewish Church. And this new
Ruler, Who had suddenly come to power in Samaria,
was the promised '' Son of David." Thus, then, was
the prophecy fulfilled at Samaria. But not there
only. Turn to the Book of the Acts. It is the feast
of Pentecost, the annual great harvest-home of Israel;
and what do we see ? Peter preaching to the people,
the sower sowing the Word, and the same day three
thousand souls added to the Church. What is this
again but the reaper following the sower, the plough-
man overtaking the reaper? And so, indeed, the
apostles considered it, for a little farther on St.
James quotes the beginning of this very prophecy
of Amos, and applies it to the spiritual kingdom of
Christ then beginning to come with power.
And if we would know what vine it is that thus
yields her fruit so lavishly, beyond all that nature can
show, again the Gospel will tell us ; for there is One
who says, " I am the Vine ; ye are the branches ; he
that abideth in Me, and I in him, the same bringeth
forth much fruit." The vintage is like the harvest,
plenteous, manifold, constant.
Such, then, is the work of the Church in the world.
All the operations are going on at once — sowing,
reaping, and ploughing ; planting vines and treading
grapes. Look out into the world and see the work
of the Church in it. Here is a sinful man turned
back by afiQiction, by sickness, or some other merciful
dealing of GOD, beginning the long-neglected work
in the waste and barren vineyard of his heart.
There is another, every day bearing much fruit,
blessed and a blessing. Here is the babe newly
born to GOD by the mystery of CHRIST'S own
ordering, and before the world could defile it, or the
flesh spot its pure robe, or Satan lay a finger upon
368 '^iazntv-iauvth ^utttra^ after ®r:nJt^^
it, it is carried by angels to Paradise, for ever to
be with its Heavenly Father. Here CHRIST by
His minister receives into His Church the uncon-
scious infant that shall live threescore years and ten.
Here He stands by the dying-bed of the grey-haired
servant of GOD and gives him '' angels' food,"
'^ because the journey is too great for him," that he
may go in the strength of that meat through the
valley of the shadow of death even unto the mount
of God. Here the great Priest is wedding two souls
into one happy unity by the great mystery that
was first made known in the pure bowers of Eden.
There the same great Master has divided for a
time two other loving hearts ; the one is taken, the
other left. Oh, strange, oh, sad breaking and rend-
ing stroke ! And yet it is well. He who joined to-
gether in love hath now in love put asunder. The
harvest was ripe, the vintage was come ; the Master of
the field, the Lord of the vineyard, has garnered His
precious grain, hath gathered into the wine-press the
rich clusters. The treading down is sharp for both,
for both suffer in the suffering of one, they two being-
no more twain, but one flesh ; but He Who endured
that terrible wine-press alone hath promised never
to leave nor forsake those who have after Him to
endure it. The grain cannot become bread, the
staff of man's life, till it be crushed and ground ;
the grape cannot become wine till it has been
pressed and the useless husks got rid of; and the
souls whom Christ loves must tRrough tribulation
enter into their rest. He, the Lord and Master,
submitted to this; we too must go by the same
road, that we may come where He is. For see w^hat
was His own experience. The prophet told that
restoration should come through David. He knew
not how low the house of David must be brought
first ; he knew not that Solomon's gorgeous palace
must pass av/ay, and David's Son live in the cottage
Stoentij-fourtly ^uttira^ aft^r Crittit^. 369
at Nazareth, and that thus the tabernacle of David
should be raised up, a house not made with hands.
Jeremiah's words teach the same thing ; the house
of David had spread out like a noble and great tree ;
it was to be cut down even to the root, but from that
root a nev/ Branch was to spring forth, and become
a great Tree, more beautiful, more fruitful, than the
original stem, never to fade, never to be cut down.
Just as it was in the miracle ; the five barley loaves
of the poor lad were taken by the LORD'S will to be
the source and means of sustenance and strength
and comfort to all that great multitude in their
terrible extremity.
Such is God's mysterious way, to bring greatness
out of weakness, prosperity out of ruin, good out of
evil. David's kingdom fell, but the blessed Son
of David arose in David's own city, Bethlehem, to
found a new and better and everlasting Kingdom.
He too humbled Himself even to death, the death
of the Cross, that out of that shameful humiliation
He might bring honour and glory and salvation.
And as the Master was, so are we. His servants in
the world. We are brought low, that we may be
exalted ; we sow in tears, but the joyful reaper
presses on behind, bringing in the sheaves with
gladness.
Thus, then, are the words of Amos fulfilled in the
Church's year, when the two Advents are commemo-
rated together, the Alpha and the Omega of Chris-
tianity ; fulfilled in the Church's work : ^' For all the
operations of grace go on in harmony together ; each
helps on the other. In one the fallow ground of the
heart is broken up; in another seed is sown, the
beginning of a holy conversation ; in another is the
full richness of the ripened fruit, in advanced hoH-
ness, or the blood of martyrs ; " fulfilled in each
Christian heart where humility brings honour, where
prayer is accompanied or preceded by its answer,
370 Ctocttt^-fourtlj ^untra^i nittv Crxtttt^.
where sorrow is working gladness, and loss eternal
gain.
In vision St. John saw the Tree of Life restored
to man again, continually yielding fruit; the bud,
the bloom, the ripening and the ripened fruit, all
present together upon the same stem. The work of
the Church in the world, the work of CHRIST in the
heart, these are what it means ; for in both there is
a never-ending circle of blessing, means working
into ends, and ends themselves becoming means to
other ends.
In the natural world there is life irresistibly push-
ing forth on every side, and in most varied forms ; and
He Who does this can do yet greater things than
these, and make life more abundant, more prolific,
transcending all natural processes. He Who makes
the corn slowly to ripen and multiply till the time
of harvest comes can, as His miracles show, hasten
such processes, or supersede them by higher powers,
and give bread to the eater which the sower and
the reaper never toiled to win. Is anything too
hard for the LORD ? He Who is the ^' Bread that
came down from heaven," He Who is '' the Vine,"
can He not feed our souls with heavenly food in
that Sacrament which He has appointed ? He is
wonderful in His works of nature ; what must He
not be in His miracles of grace? By the former
He giveth food to all flesh, bread to strengthen,
wine to make glad the heart of man ; by the latter
He makes '^the plowman to overtake the reaper,
and the treader of grapes him that soweth seed."
Etocntg^fift}) Suntiag after STrtnttg.
A UTUMN.
Natives of tropical countries tell us that, when
they come into our latitudes, they are struck most
of all with the aspects of nature in the seasons of
Spring and Autumn. Their own cHmate has nothing
of the kind. And even we, who have all our hfe
long seen the wonders of these seasons, and so, in
accordance with that strange facihty of our nature
for undervaluing anything that is constantly before
our eyes, have come to take it all as a matter of
course, yet we too, if we watch and ponder, cannot
but see how much there is to notice and admire and
meditate upon in these two seasons. Just now we
are in the midst of Autumn ; let us try to see what
its teachings are.
Autumn is the end of the year, as relates to the
operations of nature. The trees have budded and
burst into glorious foliage, and have reigned in their
beauty their appointed time; and now the leaves
have faded, and they are falling to the ground, some-
times in showers, as the chilly wind sweeps them
from the nodding branches ; sometimes one by one,
silently and gently, during the monotonous stillness
of the damp grey days. The fruit has passed through
all its stages, has ripened and been gathered, or
lies neglected and forgotten, rotting upon the ground.
The flowers too have had their day, and are passed
and gone. The corn and all the varied harvests of
the field and garden, all are gathered and garnered :
371
372 W\x(tni^'Mt\j ^tttttrajr after ^vxniUj.
nature has done her work and closed her book for
one of her periods. The whole aspect of Creation
indicates an end, rest, almost weariness, after exer-
tion and effort. The wind, after the last spasmodic
effort of the equinoctial gales, seems to sink into
death. The atmosphere is for the most part thick and
heavy ; there is a stillness that makes itself felt. The
very sun itself seems wearied, as day by day it sets
earlier and rises later, magnified and reddened, a lurid
ball of languid fire in the cloud-encumbered horizon.
Indeed here is the secret of all; here is the
essential characteristic of the season, the loss of
the sun's influences, light and heat. Here is the
cause of all the features of Autumn; here is the
keynote of the teachings of this season. In the
words of Solomon the preacher, ''If a man live
many years, and rejoice in them all, yet let him
remember the days of darkness."
If we think of it, the prominent features of
autumn are to be found far and wide, in almost all
things, and not merely in the face of nature. There
is an autumn in the life of man ; there is an autumn
in the history of nations; there is an autumn in
the course of the world itself We dare not (Hke
some) assume the office of prophet and confidently
read the signs of the times, and tell to a year where
we are in the vast cycle of the Almighty's plans;
but still we might with due modesty point out some
signs that seem to be apparent of the autumn of
the world. History, past and present events, display
to our eyes an autumn for nations. This Book of
Ecclesiastes was written in the premature unlovely
autumn of the life of the once great and glorious
Solomon.
Let us, then, pass by the autumn-tide of nations
and of the world, and keep to the more practical
thoughts to which the autumn of the life of man
naturally gives rise. But, after all, it is a subject
ftnettt^T-fiftlr Jxtntra^i after Crxnitir. 373
too wide and too deep and too long; we can but
hint and sketch and lightly touch in passing what
would afford matter for thought for many an hour.
And yet perhaps, after all, this is all that is neces-
sary. The analogy between nature's operations
and the life of man are patent and acknowledged ;
it needs but to remind you of what you know so
well ; the note hes dormant in the string ; the lightest
touch will make it ring out, and the echoes of Sunday
will still live on during the week.
^^ If a man live many years, and rejoice in them
all, yet let him remember the days of darkness, for
they are many." Happy those who, taught by the
wise, become wise themselves, and in the days of
spring and summer remember the coming autumn
of life. Happy those who hear and receive the
warning that follows those words, '' Rejoice, O
young man, in thy youth, and let thy heart cheer
thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the
ways of thy heart and in the sight of thy eyes ;
but know thou that for all these things GOD will
bring thee into judgment." Happy those who have
not accepted the world's counter-teaching, and have
not without hindrance or fear, as the saying is,
"sowed their wild oats;" for the seed sown will
surely produce its harvest of tares and thorns and
thistles in Hfe's sad autumn. ''Whatsoever a man
soweth, that shall he reap." ''What fruit have ye
of those things of which ye are now ashamed ? " —
" The thorns which I have reaped are of the tree I planted ;
They have torn me, and I bleed ;
I should have known what fruit would spring from such
a seed."
And if the young man has not been his own
enemy, and with his own suicidal hand sowed tares
in his own field in the silent night, while sober men
slept that they might be ready to do honest work
374 i^iiT£ttt^-fift^ ^utttra^ after i^rinlt^,
the better in the open day, yet still there is another
danger. This same Solomon speaks of it thus :
" The sluggard will not plow by reason of the
cold; therefore shall he beg in harvest, and have
nothing ; " like our LORD'S fooHsh virgins, begging
for oil, and even trying to buy it too late. A wasted
life ! Lost opportunity ! The irrevocable, useless
past ! What bitter fruit this ! '' Apples of Sodom
and grapes of Gomorrah " for many a man's autumn !
** Days of darkness " indeed !
The Book of Ecclesiastes is full of such thoughts.
Solomon's was a magnificent vocation spoilt, a reck-
less waste of man's best faculties, of GOD'S choicest
gifts. In Ecclesiastes he stands in his autumn dark
days, and finds his heart chilled and his affections
soured by the retrospect of his experiences. Life
has disappointed him. Men and women have de-
ceived him; the world is to him hollow and profit-
less, even where it is not actually evil and malicious.
He has nothing to show as the nett result of his
life ; no fruit gathered, no harvest garnered. He is
weary, but not with profitable work; he has no
resting-place, no home, no friend. He is but a
hungry, naked, sickened prodigal ; a mendicant whom
even his fellow-men reject, to whom nothing now
is left but the uncovenanted, undeserved mercy of
God. " Days of darkness " indeed these ! '* Dark-
ness that may be felt " ! Days, alas! often experienced
in the autumn of Hfe by many a man and woman.
And if they postpone these days ; if they manage to
evade them ; if artificial lights prolong the day seem-
ingly even to the end, surely the days of darkness
will come at last, and then will they not be many ?
Do we not read of " outer darkness," of the gnashing
of teeth there — teeth that would taste of nothing else
but what seemed to them the sweets of life — of the
bitter, bitter cry, ^'The harvest is past, the summer
is ended, and we are not saved " ?
^iamtrr-^fth ^nntiajj after f rxnit^i. 375
But shall autumn days be always so ? Are they
necessarily sad ? Surely not ; rather are they in-
tended to be days of glad fulness and thankful,
hopeful rest. Will full barns and presses bursting
out with new wine make their owner sad ? If the
sun no more shines so long or so brightly, did not
the wise and industrious man work while the days
were long and the sun was hot and fructifying?
And is not rest well-earned welcome, when that
which was attempted is now well done, when that
which was laboured for is obtained and the tangible
results are in hand ?
The 127th Psalm was written by this same Solo-
mon in his wiser and better days ; let the calm,
trustful, thankful repose of its words teach us the
true Christian spirit in the autumn of life. " Peace
at the last " — this is his portion ; peace and hope ;
or, as one of the Collects has it, '^ a quiet mind."
Autumn is the time of decay, yet what one well
calls ^' calm decay " to the Christian who has the
" pardon and peace " of GOD. Autumn is the end,
yet not the end. We cannot help looking on again
to Spring, again to glorious Summer. Even in the
"dark days" we remember the bright time past.
To us, as to Israel in Goshen, there is " light in our
dwellings ; " and hope tells us that we shall yet again
feel the warm, genial heat of the sun ; again watch
glorious risings and exquisite settings; again see
rich pastures and smiHng corn-fields, and the deep
blue sea, sparkhng and flecked with white, and
stretching to the wondrous bow of the far-off
horizon ; again smell flowers and taste fruit, so
wonderfully true always to their proper scents and
tastes; again see bright blue skies and the silver
moon and the glittering stars, and hear the soft
night-wind stir the leaves and break for a moment
the delicious silence, till the half-uttered thought
possesses us, " O beautiful world ! O beautiful
376 SliTcttt^-ftftlr .fixtttrau after ^xiniUj,
works of God ! how good, how wonderful must He
be Who made you all ! If all this that shall pass
away is so perfect, what hath He, our Father, pre-
pared for us. His children ! What must be our
home, what the life where there is neither change
nor sin nor death ! "
Such are the thoughts and hopes of the Christian
in the autumn-tide of life. His life's day is drawing
to its close, and he is content. He has worked, and
is somewhat weary ; he looks on gladly to rest ; and
faith tells him of the dawning of another and a
brighter day ; of renewed life and vigour ; of meeting
again those whom he has ^' loved and lost awhile "
in the darkness; of a higher life, more light, more
knowledge, progress, in the presence of GOD, ^' with
Whom there is fulness of joy and pleasure for ever-
more."
WELLS GAKDN'EK, DAKTOX A.NI^ CO., LONDO.X.
THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THELAST DATE
STAMPED BELOW
AM INITIAL FIKE OF 25 CENTS
AN IWli-iAi. I X RETURN
THIS BOOK °N T"f °*J|^^s qn THE FOURTH
rv'-l-TO^-l ON THB SEVENTH O.V
OVERDUE.
LD 21-100m-7,'33
YB
29550