Outlines and Hints

“Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.” — Mart. vi. 12.

THERE are two things which this text cannot mean. (1) It cannot mean that sinful man is to set an example by which the divine administration is to be conducted; (2) It cannot mean that God’s forgiveness of man is a mere equivalent for something that man himself has done.

In suggesting an interpretation of this prayer, let it be observed that this is not the first petition in. the prayer. This fact sheds a morning-glory around this mystery of the night. Who are the men who say “Forgive us as we forgive”? They are men who have said —

(1) Our Father.

(2) Thy kingdom come.

(3) Thy will be done on earth.

Suppose that these prayers have been answered in their experience; that they are fully pervaded by the filial spirit; that God’s kingdom, in all its power, has come into their hearts; that God’s will is done in them as it is done in angels: suppose that while they have been yet speaking the answer has thrilled their suppliant souls; think ye not that in such a moment of moral transfiguration they could pray that as they themselves had forgiven the past of their enemies, so God might forgive their debts and trespasses? You say that you have had some such moments of moral ecstasy — you know somewhat of this passion of love — but that you soon change. True. But herein is the goodness of God, for He takes our prayers at the very highest point of their insprration, and enlarges them into the fullest mean- ing they can bear, and He will answer the highest and not merely the lowest of our aspirations. He does not wait until our petition has shrivelled down ) to its meanest dimensions, and then answer it: when our mouth is opened most widely, he fills it’ with good things.

There is another point. Superficial men who listen to our prayers hesitate not to say that we are inconsistent because we do not act up to the high level of our petitions. When we tremblingly say “as we forgive,” they rudely exclaim, “How does he forgive? He did not forgive A, B, and C’ This assault upon our consistency is unphilosophical, and may even be immoral. It is forgotten that we express in prayer not what we are but what we would be: prayer is not an attainment but an aspiration; prayer is not history, it is hope; prayer is not victory, it is fighting. When a man’s prayers and practices are co-ordinate he need not pray any more. The ideal life is the life we set forth in prayer. Ideality is the dynamic force which drives the world-engine along the lines of progress. When a man’s ideality is exhausted he may as well die. He is of no use in this sphere. We count not ourselves to have attained. We run, we stretch, we press toward the mark, we pursue an unattained and lofty ideality.

Apart from these considerations, it is to be remembered that forgiveness is a term much misunderstood. I lay this down as a guiding principle, confession and contrition are the necessary conditions of forgiveness. It is impossible to forgive a man, in the full sense in which we wish God to forgive us, apart from these conditions. You may refrain from taking vengeance upon him — you may treat, him with indifference — you may never pronounce his name — you may not seek to bar his way in life — but apart from confession and petition, you can never truly forgive him so as to trust him again, and love him as though no injury had been inflicted upon you. God’s own method is this: “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins.” If any man will not forgive an honest penitent, I boldly declare him to be a stranger to the spirit of Jesus Christ.

‘And when Herod saw Jesus, he was exceeding glad: for he was desirous to see Him of a long season, because he had heard many things of Him; and he hoped to have seen some miracle done by Him. Then he questioned with Him in many words; but He answered him nothing.” “And Herod with his men of war set Him at nought, and mocked Him, and arrayed Him in a gorgeous robe, and sent Him again to Pilate.” — Luxe xxi. 8, 9, 11.

Why did Christ treat with silence a man who was “exceeding glad” to see Him? The subject is Divine reserve; or, Christianity im relation to owr mental moods.

I. ALL SUBJECTS REVEAL THEMSELVES ACCORD-ING TO THE MENTAL MOOD IN WHICH THEY ARE EXAMINED. This is true of nature, society, revelation. II. Tae Divine BEING DISCRIMINATES MAN’S MENTAL MOODS. Apparently Herod was in a most pleasing state of mind. He manifested no royal hautewr. He was cordial, — he was “exceeding glad:” why, then, that awful silence on the part of Christ? (a) Not fear of the judge; (6) not constitutional sullenness; (c) not consciousness of guilt. Why, then? Because of a wrong mental mood on the part of Herod. Why was Herod “exceeding glad”? Because “he hoped to have seen some miracle done by Him.” Christ would stoop to lift up a beggar’s child, but would not work a miracle to please a king. II]. Certain MENTAL MOODS DEPRIVE MEN OF THE RICHEST yf HIDDEN SPRINGS.

BLESSINGS OF CHRISTIANITY. What Herod might have known had he been in a proper state of mind! To whom will the Lord Jesus reveal Himself in tender speech or loving vision? Since He was silent before Herod, will He be communicative to any of His creatures? The answer is in Isa. lxvi. 2. This answer shows that contrition and reverence are the conditions on which suppliants return fullhanded from the throne of grace. IV. MEN SELF-DEPRIVED OF THOSE BLESSINGS RESORT TO OPPOsITiIon. “Herod, with his men of war, set Him at nought,” &e.

“The Son of man came to seek and to save that which was lost.” — Luxg xix. 10.

I. The most magnificent historical fact, — *“Came.”

II. The most appallingly significant mission, — “To seek.”

Ill. The most transcendently beneficent purpose, — “To save.”

IV. The most perfect description of the state of humanity, — Lost.”

(a) If Christ came, man’s responsibility is increased. (6) If Christ came to seek, then seek ye the Lord while He may be found. (c) If Christ came to save, then the sinner is without excuse. (d) If Christ came to save the lost, then the worst may welcome Him. (¢) Christ will come, will come to seek, once more.

“Thy kingdom come.” — Marz. vi. 10.

I never felt the power of this petition more impressively than when once standing in the midst of a leafless wood. It was a clear day in early spring. Every cloud had been withdrawn from the canopy. The trees were perfectly naked, and their great branches were like arms outstretched in prayer. To me they seemed to be saying: “O spring, come and clothe us with beauty; summer, come and enrich us with thine abundance; we are patiently waiting for thee: through the long winter storm we have tarried for thee; thy kingdom come.” I, too, a poor, leafless, human tree, lifted up my entreaty, saying, with a full heart, “O fairer Spring, O richer Summer, O purer Light, come clothe me, adorn me, make me beautiful, — O Saviour, Thy kingdom come.”

(a) Human life is one great WANT; (6) this want should turn human life into one noble ASPIRATION; es this aspiration can only be -noble as it is lifted up towards a FATHER; (d) this Father must be ced to come in all fie power and splendour of a KINGDOM,

Do you imagine that you are wise unto salvation simply because you have the letter of God’s revelation in your hand? Fools are they who think thus. Look at the letter-carrier as he steps out of the post office in the morning. See what documents he carries. Letters of business, letters of affection, letters of joy, letters of life, letters of death, — how wise he must be! Not at all. Of the inner word he knows nothing. So with men who know only the letter of the Bible. They read merely the address on the outside of the epistle; they have not broken the seal and read the messages which have come from their Father’s heart. “Search the Scriptures.”

“Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory,

for ever.” — Marr. vi. 13.

Is not this word “thine” a word expressive of selfishness? Thine the kingdom, Thine the power, Thine the glory! Thus all is made God’s! What then? All is His by right. Yet what we foolishly think to be selfishness is, in reality, infinite generosity! How so? Though the last pronoun is thine, yet the first is our! The kingdom is His, the power is His, the glory is His, but He himself is ouRS! “Our Father — Thine is the kingdom.” Thus “all things are yours.”

“¢ What can man do unto me P” — Psaa. exviii. 6.

This inquiry may be regarded — I. As A CHECK ON HUMAN PRESUMPTION. We are always within hand-reach of our boundary. II. As A WARNING AGAINST IMPIOUS DiIsTRUST. III. AS A REBUKE OF MORAL TIMIDITY. IV. AS AN ARGUMENT AGAINST ALL FALSE CONFIDENCES.

(a) It is well for man to know the range of his ability. (6) The power to help is limited, as well as the power to hinder. (c) Each man is the object of the divine care. What, then, becomes of the Deistic providence? (d) The most energetic persecutor of the good is engaged in a laborious attempt to do nothing. Whoso fears God has nothing else to fear.

It is to be observed that the woman was impressed with the charms of the tree. Is there not in every man an eye which always sees something more beautiful in the possession of another than in his own? Man’s depraved notion of increase is that rather of addition than of development. Get a hundred bushels out of your own acre, but touch not a grain belonging to your neighbour! <A thing may be “good for food,” “pleasant to the eyes,” and “to be desired to make one wise;” but in themselves these are no reasons why we should appropriate it. There isa kind of beauty which is laid wpon the cheek; there is another kind that grows upon it: the one is the factitious beauty of wddtion, the other the essential beauty of development. A stolen beauty perishes in the thievish grasp. The fruit was beautiful so long as it hung where God intended it to hang; but the moment it was taken into a forbidden sphere it was hideous and terrible as death!

ay

We are re-enacting the Edenic apostasy every day (Gen. iii 7 — 10). Every. man is an Adam; every woman is an Eve. Every Adam and Eve break up their probationary Eden, and. are driven into sterile wastes. We are fond of blaming the great federal Adam, as if we could have done better. He did just what we should have done. The severest of his critics would have ruined the loveliest Eden that ever bloomed in the thought of God. It is common, also, to blame Eve; but we seldom think how hard a thing it was to be the world’s jirst woman. It was very trying to be in the great creation without a sister to speak to. She had no history to go by. The world had no library then, either in living form or written volume. There were no footprints to study. The woman was young; she had not grown her way up from infancy to maturity; she had an eye for the beautiful; she knew nothing of sisterhood; through the calm and balmy air of Eden there came no startling scream of warning; her hand bore no scar that could tell of battle and overthrow; the way to ruin was beflowered with a thousand beauties, and she sped through to its last enticing inch. She fell. Nor am I sorry, in one sense, that she did fall. That fall has given us deeper insight into God’s heart than (as it appears to us who read things in the gray twilight of earth) we could otherwise have had. Though it is grievous to see the world’s first woman laughed at by triumphing devils — her cheek burning with shame’s reddest blush — her tears drenching a face more lovely than the loveliest flower in her home, yet Faith foresees a day when that dear, shattered, broken, bleeding forerunner of us all shall be gathered up by her own Son, when devils shall have nothing more to laugh at, but shall see aspects of the divine government which shall cause them to quake for ever.

A tree that is forbidden to one man may not be forbidden to another (Gen. ii. 17). Every man has his own trial-tree. Compared with the world of to-day, the world of Eden was small and poor. Man has been digging, and many a treasure he has brought up. Man has been diving, and many a felony he has committed in the palace-caverns of the sea. Man has been putting things together, and many a curious chain his craft has forged. Eden was a mere shell. Eden was but an alphabet. Eden was but a hint. As the world has multiplied its conquests and its treasures, so has it multiplied the possibilities of apostasy. Civilization has thinned down the partition between earth and hell. Man may now be tempted to drive down to perdition in a chariot of fine gold. There is now a separate serpent appealing to each separate sense. But for the WOMAN’S SEED there would be no clearing one’s way through the dreadful coils into heaven — into peace!

THE ALABASTER BOX.

“Now when Jesus was in Bethany, in the house of Simon the leper, there came unto Him a woman having an alabaster box of very precious ointment, and poured it on His head, as He sat at meat. But when His disciples saw it, they had indignation, saying, To what purpose is this waste? for this ointment might have been sold for much, and given to the poor. When Jesus understood it, He said unto them, Why trouble ye the.woman? for she hath wrought a good work upon Me. For ye have the poor always with you; but Me ye have not always. For in that she hath poured this ointment on My body, she did it for My burial. Verily I say unto you, Wheresoever this gospel shall be preached in the whole world, there shall also this, that this woman hath done, be told for a memorial of her.” — Marz. xxvi. 6 — 13.

Here is a woman — probably a poor woman — doing an action which excites the indignation of the whole church. Not a voice is heard in her favour except (sublime exception!) the voice of Jesus. In such a circumstance there must be something worth looking at. A minority which God approves must not be overpassed with heedlessness or contempt. A minority in the church, with JEsus at its head, is, in truth, an incarnation of Omnipotence. The wisdom in this case is with the few, the folly with the many; the wisdom is with love, not with policy — with gratitude, not with calculation.

The points of special interest are these : —

I. THE ALL-SURRENDERING GENEROSITY OF LOVE.

The woman had an alabaster box of very precious oitment — only one box — and that solitary box she broke, and poured its pure nard on the only human head that had not lost its crown. I would detain the woman in that attitude of offering an oblation, and point her out as one of the most touching spectacles in all the wide compass of history. The gift has been in her heart for some days or weeks: again and again she has revolved the question of dispensation, and again and again she has remitted that question to her heart, till the set time of manifestation has arrived. The holy purpose was in her heart as the flower-seed is in the earth in the early spring-time. The seed is hidden, but is growing all the while; the gift is invisible, but every day adds to it some new fold of love; and at length the hour comes in which the germinating purpose reveals itself in a noble act, and it is as though some rough, unpitying wind had seized a new-born flower and threatened its young life. I wish to remember, however, the all-surrendering generosity of love. Love never puts its own name upon anything. Love has some object, must have some object, on whose shrine it lays its every possession. Love, warm, intelligent, growing love, keeps back nothing from God. Its beaming eyes look upon every treasure with a view of ascertaining its proper relation to the King. Love has endless resources, because it has endless sacrifices. We make a grievous mistake when we say, “Such a man must be rich, because he gives so much to the cause of God:” he may not be rich in material possession, but he must be rich in the spirit of self-sacrifice. He has a wealthy heart, and that explains the bounty which astonishes and confounds those who have a prince’s gold but a beggar’s spirit. And yet nothing is more general, in a degenerate church, than the reasoning I refer to: if we see a high contribution attached to any name, we instinctively regard the sum as a public advertisement of what is left behind, rather than as a proof of self-denying, a self-impoverishing heart. The case before us is a most notable example: this woman’s contribution was “an alabaster box of very precious ointment,” and as we see it annexed to her name, we almost involuntarily say, “Rich woman;” for we have not yet risen to that sublime realization of love which can say, in all the fulness of its meaning, “Rich heart.” No, brethren, in our mercantile age we order our affairs by a kind of spiritual “tare and tret.” God gives us bounties without measure, and our first business too often is to take off an enormous amount of “tare,” and put that into the hands of the. usurer for ourselves; we thus reduce the “tret” to a minimum, and having done so, exclaim with self-satisfaction, “We can’t afford it.” For example, here is, a man receiving as many as a thousand alabaster boxes per annum, and the first thing he does is to determine that he will save five hundred

of them — he will lay them by; then he will take his necessary expenses out of the remainder: having done so, he will look at the miserable residue, and say to the church and to God, “Ican’t afford it.” Of course he cannot. Innocent and noble-minded man, how can he? But will such a man answer one question, viz., If this woman had laid away her one boa of ointment for her own personal use, how much could she have afforded? Ah, she knew not the spiritual arithmetic to which I refer. Imprudent woman! She actually gave Jesus both the tare and the tret!

Take a second point, —

II. THE MORAL BLINDNESS OF A PRUDENTIAL
POLICY IN THE SERVICE OF CHRIST.

“To what purpose is this waste? for this ointment might have been sold for much, and given to the poor.” And according to Mark, the indignation took a more specific form, — “Why was this waste of the ointment made? for it might have been sold for more than three hundred pence, and given to the poor.” There are men who can never take other than an arithmetical view of things. They account themselves sharp if they can save a shilling, from going in what they call a wrong way. They are “prudent” men, “safe” men, men of discretion and judgment, men gifted in mental arithmetic, who in a trice can give you the arithmetical value of a poem, or put Love into scales and tell you her exact substance in avoirdupois or troy weight. They are the keen economists of the church; they get near enough to Christ to ascertain the texture of His garments, and to calculate the value of His seamless vesture. You find such men in all churches, and a superticial world calls them sharp, shrewd, and successful. Such men are, I suppose, of some sort of use, or surely God would have turned the dust to better purpose than to have set it roaming about in the form of human pence tables and flesh-and-bone arithmetics.

Then look how these prudent men give themselves much uneasiness. “They had indignation;” or, in the language of the modern church, they were “pained,” “grieved,” “distressed,” and almost irrecoverably “shocked.” Alas! the modern church has weak nerves. But some people, possibly, take a pride in being easily “pained:” the act serves to show that they keep a sensitive conscience, and that their feelings are the true spiritual barometers. Brethren, let us be more manly, more natural, more heroic, more like Christ. It is a pity when Christ’s followers become more sensitive than Christ himself.

. When the first voice raised against an action is not the voice of Jesus, but the voice of Judas, we should be careful how we rank ourselves. Judas is no authority in ethics, His ability is the ability of a tiger to balance himself properly before the fatal pounce.

Mark the word which a calculating discipleship employs — ‘“waste” — ‘to what purpose is this waste?” As if anything could be wasted on Jesus! As if the treasures of the whole universe could be too much for that sacred head! Such men have no idea of the value of so-called little acts. Their love can flow in one channel only. If a subscription be given to their cause they can understand it, and value it, and liberally commend it; but if love should take some other course their hearts are afire with celestial “indignation.” A box of ointment given to the poor would have been right, but a box of ointment given to Him who became poor that poverty might be for ever annihilated was an infringement of the natural order of things, an innovation on the conceptions of the church.

There is a point of criticism here most singularly suggestive. The same word in the original is used to signify both waste and perdition; and if we connect this circumstance with another, we shall apprehend the idea I wish to present. “Those that Thou gavest Me I have kept, and none of them is lost, but the son of perdition;” and this very son of perdition was the man who, on another occasion, and probably on this, called a sacrifice’ “waste,” and vehemently maintained the claims of the poor. There, then, is the startling fact before us, that the men who denominate other people’s services “waste” are themselves the most likely to be cast away as the refuse of the universe. And is not the same thing occurring continually, — occurring before our own eyes? He who blames faults in others is the very man who is often marred by these very faults himself — the denouncer of “waste” may be the “son of perdition.”

Take a third point : —

III. THE ALL-COMPREHENDING WISDOM OF THE
SAVIOUR’S JUDGMENT.

“Why trouble ye the woman? for she hath
wrought a good work upon Me. For ye have the
poor always with you; but Me ye have not
always.”

In this calm. judgment Jesus Christ does three things : —

First. He shows His anaiety for the peace of all who attempt to serve Him. “Why trouble ye the woman?” Why needlessly excite questions of conscience? &c.

Second. He shows His sympathy with the poor. Does He condemn the voice that pleads for the children of poverty?

Third. He shows that every age brings its own opportunities for doing good. “Ye have the poor always with you.” No man need be hoarding his goods under the pretence that he has no means of doing good, that no door of usefulness is open, and the like. Wherever you find a man ignorant of the plan of salvation, you find a mission-field; wherever you find a man in honest poverty, you find an opportunity for the exercise of benevolence, &c.

Take a fourth point : —

IV. THE ASSURED IMMORTALITY OF GOODNESS.

“Verily I say unto you, Wheresoever this gospel shall be preached in the whole world, there shall also this, that this woman hath done, be told for a memorial of her.” Goodness has in it the breath of immortal life. The memory of the wicked shall rot, fall away, drop off, and its recollection shall utterly cease, so that in the coming ages there is a period when devils and devildom will be unknown to the consciousness of an adoring universe.

(1) Only a divine being can guarantee immortality to any action. (2) In immortalizing goodness, we have an assurance of a happy future. (8) The nature of a being is. known by the nature of the actions whose memory he would perpetuate.

In bringing this meditation to a close, the subject gives a word (1) to those who have few resources; (2) to those who form a superficial estimate of the services of their brethren; (3) to those who would serve the most glorious Master; (4) to those who are waiting for opportunities of doing good; (5) and to those who would leave a memory to be praised.

Noble woman! generous spirit! farewell. We know not thy name, but ’tis written in heaven, and thy noble deed shall be heard of in ba hymns of the church’s remotest age.

CHRIST AND THE PHARISEES,

“Then was brought unto Him one possessed with a devil, blind, and dumb: and He healed him, insomuch that the blind and dumb both spake and saw. And all the people were amazed, and said, Is not this the son of David? But when the Pharisees heard it, they said, This fellow doth not cast out devils, but by Beelzebub the prince of the devils. And Jesus knew their thoughts, and said unto them, Every kingdom divided against itself is brought to desolation; and every city or house divided against itself shell not stand: and if Satan cast out Satan, he is divided against himself; how shall then his kingdom stand? And if I by Beelzebub cast out devils, by whom do your children cast them out? therefore they shall be your judges. But if I cast out devils by the Spirit of God, then the kingdom of God is come unto you. Or else how can one enter into a strong man’s house, and spoil his goods, except he first bind the strong man? and then he will spoil his house. He that is not with Me is against Me; and he that gathereth not with Me scattereth abroad.’” — Mart. xii. 22 — 30.

Imagine the spectacle — a man “possessed with a devil, blind, and dumb.” Here is more of Satan’s work. His way may be tracked by the ruins he has wrought. Blood-pools are his footprints. Darkness is his mantle. His whole force is directed against the temple of manhood. As I gaze on this melancholy sight, it speaks to me, saying, “I am but a picture of what Satan would make the whole world!” He would enthrone himself on every intellect. He would poison all love-streams. He would close the eye, that it might no longer dwell upon the glories of the universe. Every song of hope, every anthem of joy, he would silence; and when all men were fully under his dominion, he would announce his triumph with shouts of scornful laughter, and gaze with pride on a universal hell. I wish you, then, to take this demon-bound, blind, dumb man, as a sample of Satan’s work — as an indication of what he would make of yourselves but for the restraint of a merciful and omnipotent God.

I shall use this incident, —

I. To sHow THE GooD MAN’S RELATION TO THE
WORLD OF WANT.

This world is a wide one. It embraces the physical, mental, and moral nature of man. The world’s great empty hand is evermore thrust out in token of deep and urgent necessity; and its imploring, want-revealing eye is ever looking for a Helper. You need not force your way to the abodes of poverty, squalor, and misery, to find lean, hungry, eager want. You may find it in every home, because you may find it in every heart. It has its manifold modifications indeed, but there it is — its bosom an aching void, its voice an everlasting appeal. Into this world of want the gentle Saviour — the Good Man — came; and as I observe Him, with all the dignity of essential divinity, and yet with the tremulous tenderness of sympathetic manhood, walking up and down among the children of

men — gazing upon them through His pure tears,

shedding upon them His living smile, touching them

with His brotherly hand, and speaking to them with

His voice of love — I see in Him, and His work, the

Good Man’s relation to the world of want.

And around this relation many ideas — blushing with divinest beauty — cluster. Take three of them : —

First. The Good Man is approachable. He did not isolate Himself in gloomy grandeur, and do His deeds of mercy at an immeasurable distance. He might have done so. He might have hidden Himself, either in a pavilion of light or a tabernacle of darkness, and scattered His blessings thence. Instead of this chilling isolation, we find the holy Saviour mingling with men — communing with the inquirer, hearkening to the needy, feeding the hungry, and blessing all. Even little children could find access to the arms which were to be stretched in sacrificial death, and infancy was not too feeble to sustain the tender blessing of a tender Saviour. Do you ever find Him too weary to help the helpless? Does He ever plead His own indulgence as a reason for not receiving others? Never ! — blessed be His sacred name — never!

Second. The Good Man is sympathetic. Jesus ‘did not do His miracles as mere feats of power — as displays of proud ability. He often came to His work with tears. His sympathy trembled with compassion, and dissolved in showers, before He put forth the arm of His irresistible power! I have often been struck with the manner in which power was preceded by sympathy. It might have been otherwise. Miracles need not have been softened, mellowed, beautified by tenderness. The tear of sympathy need not have preceded the shout of power at the grave of Lazarus. But it did, and we thank God for it! God walked forth on the wings ‘of the power, but man trembled in the tear. It was a glorious union. Power with a tear in its eye, — the eyelids of Omnipotence wet with the tears of sympathy. Ay, that is mystery — that is God!

Third. The Good Man is wnostentatious. “And He healed him.” Such is the simple phraseology in which this stupendous act is transmitted to posterity! What a mass of meaning is condensed into that little phrase! The devils banished — sight revelling in countless glories — mouth opened in song, — all wrapt up in that simple statement, — “And He healed him”! Many a man has made more demonstration in the simplest act of charity than Christ made in His sublimest, His. world-amazing deeds. The angel named Charity, nightingale-like, sings her soft, rich, mellow song in the hush of midnight, with few listeners but the silent, bright-eyed stars. Love, charity, sympathy, and the other celestial sisters, run their errands noiselessly. They do not “strive or cry, neither doth any man hear their voice in the streets:” they are gentle-handed — “the bruised reed” they never broke; they are tender-hearted — *“the smoking flax” they never quenched! They trouble not the goddess Fame to sound their victories. They care not for the flaunting banners of earthly conquest.: They can wait: when the world’s din has ceased, they shall break forth into sweet, melodious, immortal song.

Such is the Good Man in his relation to the. world of want. What Christ was, we should be in our degree. We must, indeed, move at a humble distance, but our business is to move in the same direction. We should be approachable, sympathetic, unostentatious, and thus reflect the splendour of a peerless example.

I use this incident, —

IJ. To sHOW THE DEVIL’S RELATION TO GOOD
MEN.

I take those captious Pharisees as a type of the devil; and I think not unjustly so, for they are doing the devil’s work. Regarding them in this capacity, I am warranted in making this second use of the incident, — How did those devil’s men use Christ?

First. They resorted to personal abuse, — This fellow.” Nothing easier than to use bad names; but bad names are bad arguments. When your opponent is driven to personal abuse he is driven to his wits’ end, and you may safely leave him. Never throw mud. You may miss your mark, but you nvust have dirty hands. “This fellow” is no argument, it is scurrility — it is a faint spark of hell-fire; the man who throws that would throw eee deadlier if he could.

Second. They wgnored the value of the greatest blessings. They could not deny that the devil was gone, but were they glad that he was gone? So with the enemies of good men now. Good men are doing great deeds in the name of God, but there are many detractors. Even ministers are occasionally guilty of this habit of detraction in relation to their brother ministers. They cannot bear that their brethren should cast out too many devils: they don’t care for an imp or two being expelled, but there is a point beyond which fraternal jealousy shows its glaring eyes, its clenched teeth, and its pitiless sword. Such men always endeavour to make a brother’s success appear as little as possible. If, by changing an accent or modifying an emphasis, they can reduce a little, they are prone to avail themselves of these pitiful trickeries. Be it known however, that such is not the gospel spirit: it may be robed in the silk of orthodoxy, and bound with

U the purest white, but it is not heaven-born, and cannot be heaven-tending,

Third. They insulted the plainest common sense. Jesus knew their thoughts, and exposed the hollowness of their reasoning. He tore their sophistry to rags. “Every kingdom’ divided against itself is brought to desolation; and every city or house divided against itself shall not stand. And if Satan cast out Satan, he is divided against himself; how then shall his kingdom stand?” In this pointed manner did Jesus show how common sense was outraged. But what is common sense to men who have an object to gain?* They are determined to be at a certain point, and, if common sense stand in the way, cut it down — bury it beneath the most scornful insults, and gain their point. It is even so with the enemies of the cross now; they can trample upon the simplest rules of argument, they can defame the holy name of reason, and turn the sacred temple of conscience into a place of fraudulent merchandise.

Fourth. They attempted to trace good results to a bad cause. What do such men care for philosophy? It is nothing in their way to ascribe good to evil; they know that a corrupt fountain can bring forth pure streams, — they know that “cause and effect” is an old sophism, hatched by a school of sleepy-headed, brooding philosophers. It is the same with the enemies of Christ now. When a man is converted, and becomes a new creature, there are many ready to ignore the Holy Spirit, and the “precious blood” of Jesus, and to attribute the change to education, or example, or even to the devil himself, — to any one rather than to God. Fifth. They falsified the deepest and truest instincts of human nature. “And if I by Beelzebub cast out devils, by whom do your children cast them -out?” Still, you observe, they plunge headlong into ruin; they have overthrown common sense; they have laughed philosophy to scorn, and now let: parental affection go too. The copestone once off, the wall soon disappears. They are quite willing that their children should be proclaimed the emissaries of Satan — anything; anything that Christ’s honour might be smitten, and Christ’s heart stabbed. - They were bent on murder, and whatever or whoever stood in their way must bear the consequences of their fiery madness. Now the moral of the whole is of easy deduction. Let us examine ourselves, and determine whether we can be justly numbered with those infatuated, perverse, thrice-blind partisans. We scorn their littleness, but are we really larger? We lament their madness, but are we really wiser? We denounce their severity, but do we display a nobler and truer geniality? See what bigotry would do; and as you gaze, shudder and be wise. She would trample all that is holy in the mire — she would bring aid from the bottomless pit — she would swear to the hurt of countless millions — she would drown the universe in its own blood, rather than vacate her accursed throne or relax her iron grasp. I implore you, brethren, to beware of this blackhearted bigotry. Whatever of bigotry there may be in the so-called church, 74 never came from Ohrist. Christ healing every applicant — Christ teaching every listener — Christ bidding all welcome — Christ upon the awful tree, drinking the cup of death for every man, is an eternal protest against the spirit of a shrivelling, desiccating, hell-born bigotry.

The Saviour, having shown the folly, the madness, and malignity of the reasoning of His enemies, enunciates a doctrine of awful import: the ‘sentence rings in the world like a great truth-bell; hear it, — “He that is not with Me is against Me, and he that gathereth not with Me scattereth abroad.” This is a heart-testing application. Hence-on, we know the impossibility of religious neutrality. You are either a gatherer or a scatterer. There is no such thing as “doing no harm.” The great world is ranged in two divisions. Retire into the court of Conscience, and determine for yourselves. I pause a moment — dread moment — that you may ascertain your moral state.

Are you against Him? Lay down your weapons of rebellion, and surrender to His power and His ‘ love. He will receive you graciously and love you freely. Tell Him how you have sinned, and ask Him to forgive. The cry of earnestness will awake the response of love. Arise, by God’s help, and run to the Saviour’s cross. Pardon is there — and there, too, are purity and peace. Ask for pity in the Saviour’s name, and cry for pardon through the Saviour’s blood; and surely as the fervent prayer wingeth its flight to the mercy-seat, shall love descend and write upon your heart the Saviour’s ‘name. an

Are you with Him? Thank God! With Him? Then you fight under the banner of love, and your weapons are the steel of heaven. “With Him”? Then, amid pelting storms and roaring thunders, temptations, strifes, bereavements, sorrows, you are safe. “With Him”? Then “labour is rest and pain is sweet,” and your trembling’ pulse the pledge of immortality. “With Him”? Then you shall be. with Him — with Him for ever, amid the glory of the better land. We shall see the Master whose name we have borne, and in whose service we have toiled. The first beam flashed from His countenance shall strike eternal morning into our hearts; His welcome on the heavenly shore shall cast into oblivion our deepest sorrows; the first grasp of His hand shall insure our everlasting safety. This hope cheers us in the hour of sadness; this hope sings to us in the night of solitude; and as the mornin star (bright jewel of the dawn) melts away in the radiance of the advancing sun, so shall this hope mingle its gladdening smile with the blaze of eternal day.

CREDENTIALS TESTED BY SERVICE,

“But what think ye? A certain man had two sons; and he came to the first, and said, Son, go work to-day in my vineyard. He answered and said, I will not: but afterward he repented, and went. And he came to the ‘second, and said likewise. And he answered and said, I go, sir: and went not. Whether of them twain did the will of his father? They say unto Him, The first. Jesus saith unto them, Verily I say unto you, That the publicans and the harlots go into the kingdom of God before you. For John came unto you in the way of righteousness, and ye believed him not: but the publicans and the harlots believed him: and ye, when ye had seen it, repented not afterward, that ye might believe him.” — Marr, xxi. 28 — 32.

The question as to Christ’s authority had just been started by the chief priests and elders. Smitten with .wonder as they gazed on the marvellous conquests of His power, and unable to comprehend the secret of His mastery over mind and matter alike, they determined to put the question directly and broadly before Him. Hence they said, “By what authority doest Thou these things? and who gave Thee this authority?” They could not deny the maracles, yet they were uncertain as to the source of the power which accomplished them, and if they could find out anything in Jesus Christ which was suspicious, they would be able to overturn His claims to.the Messiahship. They could not find fault with the works themselves; there they were; open, patent, self-revealing, and self-defending; and, failing to find any blemish in the effect, they attempted to invalidate the cause. It was nothing to them that great and glorious blessings had accrued to the human family through the ministry of Jesus; their business was to find a flaw in that ministry, to ascertain whether the minister himself was armed with the proper credentials — whether he had entered by the ordinary gate; for if they could find that he had-in any degree failed to carry out their own notions of authority, they would have a plea against Him which would be all-prevailing with a superstitious and priest-bound age.

Christ saw the drift of the question — knew exactly the process of reasoning which would be founded upon a certain answer — and, therefore, resolved to take the wise in their own craftiness, and surround the proud with the darkness of confusion. He consequently propounded a problem which was like a two-edged sword, which they were too glad to drop from their trembling fingers:

—“The baptism of John, whence was it? from heaven, or of men?”

Yet, while Jesus declined to give a direct answer to the question, He set forth the truth of the subject in the form of a parable — in fact, in two parables, — and that truth we are now to elicit, interrogate, receive, and love.

The subject, then, I would put thus: — The source of Christ’s authority is revealed by the wses to which He puts that authority. And this idea we might expand into a more general statement, — The true worker ever leaves his service to be its own exponent and defence.

Approaching the subject, then, in this manner, we have to inquire, What are the uses to which Christ puts His authority? And if the uses be divine, we shall have a strongly presumptive argument that the authority itself is divine.

I. CurisT USES HIS AUTHORITY IN ASSERTING
GOD’s PATERNAL RELATIONSHIP TO MAN.

The parable immediately before us is constructed on the fullest recognition of this fact. “A certain man had two sons,’ — “whether of them twain did the will of his father?” Now I assert, as a keyprinciple in the history of Jesus, that at all times He taught the sublime doctrine of the Fatherhood of God, and the very teaching of this doctrine is itself a revelation of the nature and the origin of the authority by which He taught. Do you ask,

- HIDDEN SPRINGS. C997

“Whence comest thou?” He answers, You may learn whence I come when I tell you that God is your Father. I came out from the Father to teach His Fatherhood. I left the bosom of the Father that I might tell all men His true nature. Learn, then, that J come from God by remembering that God’s Fatherhood is the central fact in my teaching. By teaching the Fatherhood of God, Christ incidentally, but most convincingly, asserts the divinity of His authority. Jesus does not so represent the Unseen One as to repel men from His service, but contrariwise continually seeks to win the hearts of men to receive Him as their eternal and loving FaTHerR. Had He dwelt on the majesty, the awfulness, the everlasting royalty, and unapproachable glory of the Invisible Godhead, the case would have been vitally different. Wherever He speaks of God, He speaks of Him asa Father. If ever He reverts to the power of God, it is to show how it is exercised in love; never once does He break out into a hymn of praise to the abstract power, glory, majesty of the great Creator; but every reference to these is to show that they are associated with unfathomable pity, with unlimited and changeless love. Now I cannot but hold that such teaching is divine in its authority, self-evidentially divine in its origin. And the more tenaciously do I hold it when I remember that Christ asserts the wniversal

Fatherhood of God. There are two sons here, and these two sons represent different classes — the avowedly disobedient, and the professedly reverential.

(Show the necessity and awfulness of evangelical distinctions.)

Still God is the Creator-Father of all hams and through Jesus He would become the Redeemer-Father of universal man; and Jesus goes everywhere enlightening, uplifting, and restoring men, and will never rest until He has folded all hands in prayer, and taught children of every age and clime to ay “OUR FATHER which art in heaven.”

II. Curist usES HIS AUTHORITY IN CALLING ALL MEN TO SPIRITUAL SERVICE.

“Son, go work to-day in my vineyard.” A call to work must be divine. I mean this statement to apply to all kinds of true work; to work that is called secular, and to work that is called sacred. All true work is divine. A workless world is a joyless world. Inactivity is the first condition of melancholy, melancholy is the twilight of madness. Specially is this true of spiritual service; any religion which bids man desist from work cannot be heavenly in authority. —

There are two things about God’s call to work : —

(1) God fixes the tume — “to-day;” (2) God determines the sphere — “my vineyard.”

Let us, then, apply this test to the religion we profess to enjoy. Does it lull us to rest? Does it approve our sealed eyelids? Does it enclose us in ourselves, and shut off the necessitous world? Beware! beware! Is it, on the other hand, continually affecting our hearts with pity for a fallen race? Is ita never-silent cry for labour? Does it plead the cause of humanity? Does it, like the flying orbs, find its repose in its very activity? Rejoice! rejoice! When men ask you by what “authority” you hold your religion, and who “gave” you “that authority,” let it not be your trifling business to enter into a strife of words, but show rather the results of your faith, the works which it constrains you to do, for they bear the image and superscription of GOD. Such a reply is ever best to those who live for controversy. Drop the battle-axe. Hush the roar of artillery. Let the “by what authority” be answered by the “go WORK.”

III. Curist uses His AUTHORITY IN PROCLAIMING THE WILL OF God AS THE ONLY STANDARD OF RIGHTEOUSNESS.

“Whether of them twain did the will of his father?” This question applies a test. This is one of those inquiries which turn every heart into its own judge. I ask, then, is not the establishment of such a rule a hint of the nature of the authority by which it was spoken? Are there not certain words which at once prove themselves divine? Take such a word as “Do unto others as ye would that others should do unto you,” and is not that word radiant with lights which were never struck by the fingers of art? Is it not winged with such pinions as those with which the angels fly?

(The will that calls is the will that tests.)

IV. Curist Uses HIS AUTHORITY IN MARKING
MORAL DISTINCTIONS..

“Verily I say unto you, That the publicans and the harlots go into the kingdom of God before you. For John came unto you in the way of righteousness, and ye believed him not: but the publicans and the harlots believed him: and ye, when ye had seen it, repented not afterward, that ye might believe him.”

This is an authoritative voice. It is the voice of one who stands at the portals of the kingdom of heaven, and determines the ohari oven of those who shall enter in.

(1) Responsibility is measured by opportunity.

(2) Opportunity is given to all classes.

(3) Only the obedient can enter the kingdom.

We are thus brought round to the original question, “By what authority doest Thou these things?” And Jesus answers, Let My works testify; if you believe not My labours, you would not believe My credentials; judge Me by the wees I make of My power, rather than be anxious to analyze the power itself; I tell you God is man’s Father, man’s mission is to work, man’s work should be determined by God’s will, and that your relation .to that will — determines all the distinctions which a righteous God will stoop to recognize. And in the utterance of these great principles the wise hearer will find the royalty and divineness of the authority I wield.

I address two classes, —

First, Those who have unfulfilled vows edhe upon them, — “I go.”

Second, Those who have openly refused to serve God, — “I will not.”

Man! stand not outside of Christ, asking the questions of an ambitious but vain philosophy; but look at the glorious works by which the Son of God has surrounded Himself, and see in these works of love and mercy the best proof that Jesus is the veiled Jehovah.

MORAL EDUCATION.

Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, Thou shalt not. kill; and whosoever shall kill shall be in danger of the judgment: but I say unto you, That whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause shall be in danger of the judgment: and whosoever shall say to his brother, Raca, shall be in danger of the council: but whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell

’ fire.’ — Marr. y. 21, 22.;

J. THE MORAL EDUCATION OF THE WORLD HAS BEEN CONDUCTED PROGRESSIVELY. Here are two voices. The subject in both cases is murder: the first: voice says, “Thou shalt not kill;” the second voice says, “Thou shalt not be angry.” Observe (1) Literal obedience to ancient legislation vs no proof of spiritual life. Take this very law as an illustration: not a man amongst us has killed a human being, and therefore so far we have been obedient to ancient legislation ; — but of what avail is such obedience if we have cherished malice, uncharitableness, illiberality of purpose and interpretation? Our very hearts may have been turned into slaughterhouses. (2) As moral education is progressive, we should ever be contemplating advancement. “I count not myself to have apprehended,” &e. Let no man deport himself as though he were a finished scholar in God’s school.

II. PROGRESS IN MORAL EDUCATION REVEALS THE INSIDIOUS DEVELOPMENT OF MISANTHROPY. This text may be regarded as revealing the possibilities of misanthropy. We here see how the germ grows into the full upas. Man begins with petulance, peevish fretfulness, irrational and unjustifiable anger, — that is the first stage: then he advances far enough in misanthropy to describe his brother by abusive and offensive epithets, — that is the second stage: then he pronounces his brother a fool, looks upon society as insane, and holds his kindred in contempt: such is the germ — such the tree: misanthropy begins in anger and culminates in murder!

III. THE PROGRESS OF MORAL EDUCATION IS THE ONLY TRUE HOPE FOR THE BEST INTERESTS OF

HUMAN NATURE. Christianity ever contemplates and works for the amelioration of the human race. I regard this fact as involving a sublimer demonstration of its divinity than all the miracles which solemnized its inaugural epoch. The universe is* merely a handful of dust, but the human heart is quick with immortal force. Jesus was the true philanthropist, and His religion is the true philanthropy (1 John iii. 17; iv. 20, 21; Matt. xxii. 39; John xiii. 34, 35). Christianity is thus shown to be the man-to-man uniting power.

THE HINDERER.
“Satan hindered us.” — 1 Tuxrss. il. 18.

I. SATAN IS AWARE OF THE GOOD PURPOSES OF THE HEART. He makes it his business to know them, &c. “He goeth about,” &. Though we cannot explain the reasons, we know the fact. This should compel (a) self-scrutiny, (0) selfwrestling, (c) self-fortification. II. SaTan SEEKS TO FOIL THE AGGRESSIVE INTENTIONS OF THE CHRISTIAN. He hindered the apostles, (a) because their purposes were opposed to his sovereignty; (0) because he can more successfully combat purposes than performances. He began in the mind of the Apostle: he embraces the first opportunity. IFI. SATAN ASSAILS THE MOST EMINENT WORKERS IN THE CHURCH. In this case he hindered the Apostle.

Before them, he fought with their Master. No man is too high in office to be safe from Satanic assault.

(a) Satan can adapt his suggestions to the particular state of the tempted, — mind, circumstanées, ante- ‘cedents, tendencies. (b) Satan has vast resowrces at command. Hosts of bad men do his bidding, &c.

He can excite persecutions, &c. He has long had

dominion over every heart, &. APPLICATION:

Be sober, be vigilant, resist the devil, examine your

reasons for not working in the church, &c. God

will bruise Satan, &c.

“I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness.’ — JoHN i. 23.

Fire from the heavenly altar burns in the heart of the son of Zacharias. His lips have been touched as with a sceptre of lightning, and as his eye is. uplifted it is seen to flash with the energy of a grand, stern purpose. His breast heaves as heaves the breast of one who has received tidings from the high court of heaven. He is a rugged child. of the wilderness. He is, indeed, a courtier, but it is in the palaces of heaven that he is known as such. The goddess of earthly fashion could desery no refinement in the son of the desert. His face is channelled as though floods of tears had found there — an accustomed bed. His step is firm as the step of one who has business, and is determined to do it.

His garb would be accounted mean by those who live in kings’ houses; yet in all his barbaric and terrible grandeur there hath not been born of woman a greater than John the Baptist!

His mission opens. Soft words would not be at home on ‘that lightning-tipped tongue. Apologies could not be forced through that fire-girt mouth, nor could these granitic lips shape themselves into the utterance of compliments. ‘Looking at him ere he speaks, you would conclude that when he does. speak he will make the oppressor cringe: his words must be double-edged: his very blessings will come with an energy which will tell of his power to curse: could tears stand in those blazing eyes, they might be heard to hiss as waters on the fire of an unconquerable purpose.

The moment of action has arrived. “He walks through all “the country about Jordan,” and startles the population with the thunder-cry, “Repent! repent!” The multitudes answer, “We have Abraham to our father”, John replies, — “Begin not to say within yourselves, We have Abraham to our father: for I say unto you, that God is able of these stones to raise up children unto Abraham.” Thus at one terrible blow he demolishes an ancient and oft-trusted fortress. John dealt not in the confectionery of language: his words were as stern as the crisis was solemn. “Repent”! “O generation of vipers”! “the-.axe is laid to the root of the tree;” “the wrath to come,’ — such were the black and bitter waters which gushed from that desert rock. Strange that swch words should have been employed in heralding a Saviour! John appears rather to have been the trumpeter of a destroyer. We are tempted to look behind so stern a messenger, under the impression that we shall descry the dim outline of a gigantic and irresistible foe. John comes not as morning’s mild and lustrous star, preluding the superior orb, but like the terrible storm, which clears the atmosphere, and inaugurates a season of purity and calm. You expected his footstep to be succeeded by the earth-shaking tread of mailed destroyers, and behold, the Saviour quietly emerges. You expected his harsh tones to be followed by the crashing thunders of doom, and behold, there ariseth one whose voice is faintly heard in the streets.

Thus mysteriously and grandly is the Divine Man foretold. Peace is cradled in that storm. Out of that tempest-chariot there shall step man’s BROTHER and SAVIOUR.

“Herod will seek the young child to destroy Him.” — Marv. ii. 13. Guilt cannot bear the presence of purity. Rapacity dreads the eye of justice. To a corrupt heart the gentle glance of a babe is a two-edged sword.

“To destroy Him”! Such is the policy of conscious guilt. In argument it is outstripped; summoned into the court where light holds sovereignty, it shrinks and trembles; forced into the presence of love, it blushes, stammers, and would gladly retreat. What then becomes its cry? “Destroy!” This word “destroy” falls with appalling familiarity from the lips of despots; but, blessed be God! no tyrant’s sword can injure the angel whose triple name is Truth, Purity, and Love.

Mark the significance of Herod’s cruel purpose. Hardly had the life-blood become accustomed to the Saviour’s veins, when the tiger panted for the warm and living stream. Wherever you find the footprint of Jesus, you find the footprint of the tiger near. Mark the crouching form, the fiery, glaring eye; upon them are the words, “Zo destroy Him!” “To destroy Him” is the meaning of every frown which darkens the brow of scribe and Pharisee; “to destroy Him” is the summary of that fierce dispute now raging in the Sanhedrim; and if you ask that swelling throng, hurrying on to Golgotha, what purpose heaves its heart, you may be answered with fiendish laughter, “Zo destroy Him!”

The race of Herods is not extinct. There are men who would crush every life of purity and moral power. They are so enslaved by selfishness, so circumscribed by an hereditary creed, so jealous of prescriptive rights, that they seek the new-born child of hope and promise to “destroy” it. They dread the forth-puttings of new power; they affect a haughty contempt of those whose banner bears “a strange device;’ their scornful laughter is the only spear they dare employ; in the madness of their infatuation they plunge the sword of their slander into the purest bosoms; yet, thank God! while these vengeful Herods are steeping Bethlehem in blood, the men of a glorious future are gaining strength in the Egypt of retirement and divine tuition.

“There standeth one among you, whom ye know not.” — JouNn i. 26.

The Jordan’s banks are now thronged with multitudes who are seeking “the baptism of repentance.” The unceasing inquiry related to the long-expected king. The universe was about to bring forth its greatest birth. Would the heavens open, and God visibly descend? Would the Jews, by one emancipating wrench, be delivered from their oft-lamented bondage? Would the air rend with triumph-songs, as lightning smote the throne of the Ceesars, and blasted the oppressor in ignominious ruin? None knew. Meanwhile the Jordan is freely used. A deputation from the priests and Levites confronts the fiery Baptist. The inquiries and answers are short, but bursting with significance:

“Who art thou?” John’s answer is negative — <I am not the Christ.” “Art thou Elias?” John’s time permits but three monosyllables — “I am not.” “Art thou that prophet?” John answered “No.” Such mysterious communications added to the perplexity of all. Even when John revealed his positive function, impenetrable darkness veiled its meaning: “I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness, Make straight the way of the Lord.” In a few pulses more the momentous secret was disclosed. The Baptist, assuming the attitude of one who is about to speak an illuminative word, deepened the already painful attention of the multitudes; not a breathing was heard, not an eye moved; with a deliberation almost tantalizing to a fevered host, John proceeded to say, “There standeth one among you, whom ye know not; HE Ir Is!” The ensuing scene others may describe. The quick, far-reaching glances; the thousand inquiries, swelling as the tumultuous noise of advancing tides; “the hurrying to and fro; the whispering with white lips,” I cannot reproduce; my business is to help you to snatch a lesson from John’s thrilling answer. Men are prone to seek a distant Christ. Humanity has a passion for pilgrimages. Few men dig for “hid treasures” at home. With many persons riches are never here, they are always yonder. Others. never look for genius or power among their familiar acquaintance. Let me, then, implore you to remember that there is deép and glorious significance in the words, “there standeth one among you.” These words apply to Christ now as truly as when the Baptist uttered them. “Behold, I stand at the door, and knock.” You need not, therefore, go far to seek Christ; He is a God nigh at hand. We need not go far in search of the elements of happiness’ the joyous Angel is standing by your side in the person of the Lord JESUS.

“Now when Jesus had heard that John was cast into prison, He departed into Galilee.’” — Marr. iv. 12.

By connecting this “casting” and “departing,” — you will be enabled to realize the meaning of John’s declaration, “He must increase, but I must decrease.” As John enters the prison, Jesus enters Galilee; as the minor light dwindles, the superior orb pours forth His splendour. I refer to this as one of many illustrations of that principle in the divine government, by which a succession of true teachers has ever been insured. Moses sleeps on Nebo; but Joshua assumes the leadership of Israel. Elijah ascends to the celestial city in his fiery chariot; but Elisha is adorned with the symbol of his power. So John is dragged to prison, and Christ continues the great work. The race of true ministers cannot be destroyed. Individual members of the ministry may be slain, but the divine priesthood is immortal.

Heed not the wild cry of the alarmist. The church is not in danger — “the gates of hell cannot prevail against it.” I shall as soon believe that an insect can unseat the King of day as that human malignity can successfully impede the progress of Christ. The slaying of Christ is but the depositing of a prolific seed in a fruitful soil; and so is the martyrdom of every Christ-lake man. The sepulchre of the faithful is the womb of Hope. The cemetery of the church is the cradle of Faith. The blood-pools of persecution are the stimulants of Love.

Haste ye to the eastern horizon, and forbiddingly shake your puny fist in the face of the sun; with quick step rush to the coast, and order the everlasting tide into silence: and when the sun retires before your frown, and the sea-pulse pauses at your bidding, then take heart, you may prevent Christ “departing into Galilee”!

“And He goeth up into a mountain, and calleth unto

Him whom He would: and they came unto Him. And

He ordained twelve, that they should be with Him.’” —

Marx iii. 13, 14.

Linger for a moment in contemplation of this holy scene. A new chapter opens in the divine history. Jesus, having preached in many synagogues, and cured many diseases, began to organize a brother- ‘hood. Let us present ourselves at this first ordination service. The temple is the temple of nature; the Priest is the only begotten of the Father; the witnesses, mayhap, were the angels who sang at Bethlehem. The great multitude swarms on the sides of that hallowed mountain, while the inaugural service proceeds on an eminence which the throngs are not permitted to-attain. Words we may not hear. The solemn charge was sacred to the chosen alone. Hence-on Christ is surrounded by men bearing the distinctive appellation of “His disciples.” Though we might not hear the charge to the. ministers, we are permitted to hear a sermon to the people. Descending from the peak of ordination, He sits on a lower eminence, and, “seeing the multitudes, He opened His mouth, and taught them.” How can I pronounce the word with which the sermon opened? I can imagine somewhat of the pathos and tenderness with which it fell from His hallowed lips; but it becomes cold and rough as it falls from our tongue. It is a word rather to be looked at than re-uttered, It is a picture, a fountain, a sun, a psalm unutterable! That word was “BLESSED”! This word is but one of many; hear the musical stream of benedictions : — “Blessed are the poor in spirit” — “Blessed are they that mourn” — “Blessed are the meek” — “Blessed are they that do hunger and thirst after righteousness” — Blessed are the merciful” — ‘ Blessed are the pure in heart” — “Blessed are the peacemakers” — “Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness’ sake.” O ye lovers of the beautiful, know ye of aught in the wide domain of your goddess to compare with this pellucid stream of blessings? If I ask you to indicate the sowrces of your broad and noble rivers, you demand that I should climb the steep hills, and force my way into the chambers of the solitudes far from the din of cities; and, pointing to some scanty rill which the thirsty eagle might drain, were it not for the spring beneath it, you declare that to be one of the sources of the great Amazons of commerce. Let me now disclose the secret birthplace of a nobler river than ever sought the bosom of the sea. Am I asked to show the source of that river of christian beneficence, enterprise, and progress which fertilizes and beautifies the world? I demand that you accompany me to the mountains on which the Saviour taught, and the hill on which the Saviour died; and, pointing you to the streamlets of His doctrines and the rills of His blood, I should declare these to be the inexhaustible sources of the river which shall gladden the dwellers on every land.

“From whence hath this man these things? and what wisdom is this which is given unto Him, that even such mighty works are wrought by His hands? Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary, the brother of James, and Joses, and of Juda, and Simon? And are not His sisters here with usP And they were offended at Him.” — Manrx vi. 2, 3.

Human nature was true to itself. The contemporaries of Christ had erected their own standard of rationality, and marked out the little way in which the angels of Wisdom and Prudence should walk; but the moment that Christ ignored their standard, and enlarged the orbit of human action, they deemed Him a fanatic, and hurled their scandal at His unsullied name. The knowledge of a man’s pedigree has not seldom marred his influence over the conceited. The wnknowns have often been accounted the world’s nobilities. On this point Christ has laid down a doctrine of universal application — “A prophet is not without honour, but in his own country, and among his own kin, and in his own house” (Mark vi. 4). Had Christ been the scion of a noble house, His contemporaries might have accorded a willing ear; instead of this, He was the offspring of industry, the child of obscurity, and they were “offended at Him.” What right had an untutored carpenter to teach the doctrines of God, and call men to repentance? How could a man, toiling in a carpenter’s shed at Nazareth, summon effrontery enough to say, I am the being of whom prophets spake; the burden of Isaiah’s song; the light of ancient day? What business had a carpenter to unlock the grasp of death, and frown disease out of the leper’s blood? True, His words were with power and much assurance; but He was only a carpenter: true, He aimed not at the king’s crown or the epicure’s indulgence; but He was only a carpenter: true, His life was unstained by an act of villany and unweakened by a deed of cowardice; but He was only a carpenter: true, His rebukes cleft the heart to the core, and His commands pointed right heavenward; but He was only a carpenter: and as the refined and conceited hordes remembered this most appalling fact, no wonder that they shuddered with disgust, and were “offended at Him”!

A man’s contemporaries can hardly forgive him for ascending heights which they themselves cannot attain. So long as, he will occupy the netherlands, they will drop him a tear of pity, and waive him a signal of sympathetic recognition; but there are eyes which cannot look wp, and hands that are good for nothing but patronage. Carpenters must not ask an age to become their auditor. They may speak to their own kind of dust, but not to those who walk on the highways of earth. And yet so eccentric is man, that he will tolerate a dead carpenter more than a living one; that is to say, when the carpenter can no longer approach him in rough clothing, or hold out a horny hand, man will throw a withered laurel on the dead brow, and humph out an expression which word-naturalists might probably classify with the lowest order of compliments. The coffin seems to be a kind of standard of greatness; for some men are spoken of as “great” immediately their coffin lid is screwed, who were hardly known in the circles of fashion and elegance; or, if their names were breathed in these charmed circles, it was with a soft whisper, as though the speakers were afraid they should awake some angry deity, who would chide the baseness of their taste.

Let ws be great enough to see greatness wherever it really exists. Our business should be less with the occupation of the speaker than with the truth of his speech; less with the pedigree of the logician than with the soundness of his reasoning. Truth is not always clad in purple. The rhythm of her speech may not harmonize with the dogmas of science, but it claims the same origin as the rhythm of the thunder or the cadences of the stormy sea. If truth should come to you on the wings of poesy, hail her with thankfulness; and if she flow through the rough channel of a carpenter’s lips, be honest enough to shout a hearty welcome.

“Go your way, and tell John what things ye have seen and heard.” — LukKE vii. 22.

Christ gave facts for answers. Deeds were His eulogists. When He saw the blind man groping his way, He opened the sightless eyeball, and the first image painted there was the Creator’s own. When He met the deaf man, He opened a new medium of communication to the brain; and the first message telegraphed to that organ was, ‘“Peace on earth, and good will toward men.” These were Christ’s living answers to querists of all classes. Christianity is a structure of facts. Its temple is composed of living stones. Christianity does not point to the learned treatise as her palladium. She has grander resources than the speculations of metaphysics. Christianity points where Christ points, viz. to lives, to facts. Christ calls to Him the child of poverty, and breathes into his ear the messages of divine love; Christ leads the wandering angel of reason back to her rightful throne; Christ sympathizes with misery, and helps weakness; and, pointing to these displays of His love and power, bids the inquirer go and tell the things he has “seen and heard.” Christ cared not to defend His Messiahship in mere words. He found His credentials in the realm of positive action. His argument is action, — His philosophy, one unbroken tissue of beneficence: His life, seamless as His own robe, is at once His grandest monument, His brightest crown, His sublimest epitaph.

Lessons are thickly clustering round the answer of Christ. When men would cross-examine our faith and hope, it ‘would be well could we enclose them in the sanctuary of our daily life, and bid them accept as answers the things they “see and hear.” It is of poor avail that you summon a lexicon where you should exhibit a life, or take refuge in a grammar when conduct should be your rampart. It is true that when her enemies have defied her to fight on the ground of philosophy and criticism, Christianity has left them thrice slain on the very battle-field of their own choice; yet her highest and noblest appeal is. to her practical conquests in the human heart. She shows how she has changed the tiger to a lamb, and the vulture to a dove, — how she has destroyed the vengeance of the malicious, annihilated the rapacity of the extortioner, relaxed the grasp of the miser, and turned the flinty rock into springs of water, — and these are her eternal bulwarks! Her glorious declaration is, “I will plant in the wilderness the cedar tree, the shittah tree, and the myrtle and the oil tree; I will set in the desert the fir tree, and the pine and the box tree together: that they may see, and know, and consider, and understand together, that the hand of the Lord hath done this, and the Holy One of Israel hath created it.”

Here is a lesson to those who are thrown into ungodly society. Let your verbal defences be illustrated and dignified by blameless and noble life. Let your industry, faithfulness, generosity, and temper, be arguments on which the smell of cri- - ticism’s hottest fire cannot pass. Preach the gospel by bewng it. Lwe your positions. Let your logic be but as the veins and arteries through which the life-blood of consistency may flow: thus your enemies “shall be as tow, and the maker of it as a spark, and they shall both burn together, and none shall quench them.”

Here 1s a lesson to christian churches. You are surrounded by a population whose hearts are estranged from God. Ignorance nestles under the very eaves of your sanctuary: the black river of vice washes the foundations of your temple, and the foul waters occasionally overflow its very threshold: the adulterer, the murderer, the blasphemer, hold carnival within the sound of your psalmody ; — and now, assuming for a moment the position of John’s disciples, I ask, “Are you they that should come, or look we for others?” In the name of God, I demand reply! Do you furnish a lengthy list of orthodox beliefs? Do you place in my hand ecclesiastical formule, catechisms, and bodies of divinity? If these be the only pledges of your spiritual life, away with them! Show me a man out of whose heart the devils of rebellion, pride, malice, deceit, have been expelled, — show me a home in which has been enkindled the lamp of heaven, — show me,,on the steeps of Calvary, the footprints of those whom you have led to theSaviour, — then with holy triumph you may bid me “go and tell the things I have seen and heard”!

“Jesus, moved with compassion, put forth His hand.” — Marx i. 41.

How much is explained by that simple declaration! “Compassion” is one of the key-words of the Saviour’s history. Follow the Divine Man in His pilgrimages, and you will ever find His heart melting with compassion. Jesus was the embodiment of Pity. This text might have ante-dated the Saviour’s incarnation. It would have been a fitting expression for angels in the solemn hour in which Jesus left His celestial throne, — how sweetly might they have joined in saying, “Jesus, moved with compassion, put forth His hand”! The mystery of the atonement is shrouded in those beautiful words: the counsels of eternity are therein epitomized! We may well sing, — “Jesus, thou art all compassion.” When He wept, He wept not for Himself. Over others’ woes He groaned. The spear of steel could draw from Him only “water and blood,” but the spear of human suffering opens the great deep of His unutterable compassion. Christ’s was a practi-. cal pity ; — He “put forth His hand.” And is not this true pity? Can genuine pity give her tears and forbear her hand? Never! Tear and hand are bound in eternal wedlock.

I have no word wherewith to represent the Saviour’s compassionate sorrow. He was a “man of sorrows”! Images and symbols fail me, — meta- - phors beg release from the task of setting forth the

Saviour’s pity and grief. I have heard David’s wail, and Rachel’s lamentation; I have heard the lioness rend the forest when bereaved of her young; I have seen the eagle’s eye flash fire as it gazed on its plundered nest; I have seen maternal love mute, deaf, petrified, as it beheld the lifeless form of a darling child; I have seen a father’s breast swell with ungovernable emotion as he heard the name of his prodigal boy; I have watched the widow betake herself to the long-covered grave, and baptize the roots of the mournful yew tree with her tears; but I have sought in vain for a parallel of the Saviour’s sorrow, compassion, and pity, when He beheld earth a ruin and humanity a wreck!

Let no man falsely construe my meaning: Christ’s compassion will not save men. Imagine not that simply because Christ wept you will be saved. Certain conditions are required in man ere he can appropriate the manifold blessings of the atonement; these conditions cannot be better designated than by their scriptural names — Repentance and Faith. Men are in danger of deluding themselves with the idea that a weeping Saviour can never be a punitive Judge. They forget that Christ has a “day of wrath,” as well as a day of pity. In one solemn word, therefore, I would proclaim that the eternity of the unrepentant sinner will be hung in sable sackcloth, and burn with fiercer fury because the Saviour wept!

RB yy HIDDEN SPRINGS.

“Bring him unto Me.” — Marx ix. 19.

The circumstances under which this command was given are most extraordinary and exciting. A distracted parent had brought his son, possessed with a dumb spirit, to the disciples, that they might cure him. Their efforts were abortive. A great multitude had congregated round the disciples. Christ, on approaching, inquired the reason of the tumult, and was answered, “Master, I have brought unto Thee my son, which hath a dumb spirit; and wheresoever he taketh him, he teareth him: and he foameth, and gnasheth with his teeth, and pineth away: and I spake to Thy disciples that they should cast him out; and they could not.” This was a crisis in the history of miracles. I can imagine the half-triumphant feelings of the scribes and Pharisees as they witnessed the scene. Would Christ’s successful career now be brought to a melancholy close? Had the Victor confronted an enemy of overwhelming strength? Would His proud banner be torn into rags by an exultant foe? We have but a moment in which to indulge such interrogatories, for the royal Saviour interrupts with, “O faithless generation, how long shall I be with you? how long shall I suffer you? bring him unto Me.” Could words be more kingly? The man who talks thus must be conscious of irresistible power, — to use such words before the cwre, was to subject himself to the cries of indignant scorn and execration in the event of defeat. This was the moment on which untold results were suspended: the dumb spirit apparently defied the Healer, for when the sufferer was brought into the presence of Jesus, “the spirit tare him; and he fell on the ground, and wallowed foaming.” Look at the scene! In the sufferer you have a representation of a terrible chaos, and in Christ the Creator of light and order; Christ speaks but once, — “<Thou dumb and deaf spirit, I charge thee, come out of him, and enter no more into him.”. That one “charge” was enough: the demon that defied innumerable physicians, that had scorned the incantations of soothsayers, and even laughed at the name of Christ, as that name was pronounced by faithless lips, could hold sovereignty no longer when the Majesty of all spirits bade him relinquish throne and’ sceptre. Thus did Christ conquer. He tore up the mountain of difficulty by the roots, and scattered it to the winds; over this mournful chaos he breathed the word which brings light and beauty, order and music.

Herein is symbolized the relations of Christ to the great world of guilt and woe. Whole generations of hireling priests have undertaken to nurse the world in its mortal sickness. Empirics have grown rich by the sale of innumerable nostrums, Legislators have wrapped the patient in a tenfold bandage of parchment. Educationists haveshowered arithmetics, grammars, and scientific treatises around the bed of the sufferer; but the bulletins are still fraught with melancholy meaning. While the sick and dying world has been thus nearly choked with the draughts prescribed by contending doctors, the great Healer has said, “BRING THE WORLD UNTO ME;” and not until the world has been taken to Christ will its smitten heart be recovered of its deadly plague.

“TI will.’” — Loxg v. 13.

Christ was self-assertive. What would be insufferable egotism in men was the essential life of Christ. He said “I,” because he could ascend no higher. The sea might refer to the river, the moon might refer to the sun, but Christ had taken the last step upward when He said, “I and My Father are one.” When He ceased to speak of Himself He ceased to bless the world. He must be His own text and His own commentator. Had He turned from Himself He would have turned into outer darkness, for He was “the light of the world.” All the forces of the universe tremble in that “ego.”

“I will” Know you the deep meaning of that expression? It is the grandest solution of all mysteries. It is written round every sea, and the stormiest billow cannot overleap it. It is the boundary of every star. The comet seeth it, and thereby knoweth its appointed course. It is the limit of hell. It is the glory of heaven. It is the secret of life.

“J will.” Tempests were hushed by it; from the sound thereof devils fled in terror; at its bidding fire gleamed in the dim eye of sickness, and the withered cheek glowed and bloomed. Omnipotent volition! the universe is but its embodiment; all fairest, loveliest, sublimest things are but itself set in richest jewellery!

“I will.” Know ye not that the will of God is your salvation? As the Lord liveth, He hath no pleasure in the death of the wicked. Would Christ have wept over Jerusalem when He knew that He had willed it to destruction? Would He have breathed tenderest and fullest welcomes to men whom, in purpose, He had consigned to unquenchable fire? Do such conclusions harmonize with the loving and beneficent life of Jesus? Never! never! Christ wills the happiness of all men, and has determined the conditions on which that happiness can be realized. If man is not happy, the secret of his misery is not to be found in the will of his heavenly Father; were it so, the Bible would be man’s vilest deceiver, and the cross the most melancholy exhibition of heartless hypocrisy. Let

sinners find their damnation where they please they will never find it in the “I wILL” of a wise’ and loving, and atoning God.

“And when He had sent the multitudes away, He went up into a mountain apart to pray: and when the evening was come, He -was there alone.” — Mart. xiv. 23.

So devout was Christ, that we may emphatically affirm that the Lord’s life was the Lord’s prayer. Jesus walked with the Father, — nay, He was with the Father, and might, therefore, truly say, “The Son of man, which is in heaven.” Christ’s nearness to God was oftentimes most awe-inspiring. You might almost hear the living messages as they fell from the lips of Jehovah into the ear of Jesus. A few of Christ’s prayers adorn the sacred page — such prayers! What simplicity, yea what reverence, yea what earnestness, yea what trust, mark these intercessions! Devoutness is essential to a great life. Men may be physically great without being devout, but beyond such greatness they cannot rise without implicit, intelligent, reverential faith. Devoutness connects man directly with the Infinite. Devoutness takes men to that mountain whence they may obtain a clear view of “the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them.” Devoutness is not synonymous with sentimentalism. Devoutness is ag superior to cant as is the natural to the artificial flower. Devoutness is often too profound for language; its solemnity strikes it dumb. The shallow stream can babble without interruption, but the deep river often runs without faintest speech.

Christ alone on the mountain. He has turned His back on the tumultuous throngs, and now He seeks the refreshment of solitude. The good man is least alone when most alone. The city to him is but “the mount which might be touched;” solitude is the true Zion: the human multitude he would gladly exchange for the “innumerable company of angels;” and flesh and blood he would cheerfully forego, for communion with the “spirits of the just made perfect.” When the good man has “sent away” the visible and sensuous, the invisible and spiritual draw closely and warmly to his heart. The man who dreads solitude knows not the charms of the highest life, — has not, in fact, developed the resources of his own being. Loneliness throws man upon himself and upon God. Loneliness teacheth man to “endure, as seeing Him who is invisible.” He who cannot live but in company is the most helpless, the most dependent, the most joyless of beings. Dissipation is mistaken fo pleasure, and excitement cheats the soul of true inspiration. Solitude aids the habit of self-introversion. Vulgarity looks out, true refinement looks within. The subjective nature of the good man is the sovereign of the objective. Let me urge young men to love retirement; they will learn lessons in the temple of solitude, the palace of the Silences, which are not written on the broad sheet of daily public life.

Christ was alone praying. Why did Christ pray? All power was His servant, wisdom was throned in His intellect, all secrets were unveiled to His eye; why, then, did He pray? An expression of His will made the universe obedient as a loving child, then why did He pray? Without entering into the dread mystery of His divine-human life, we may safely affirm that He prayed as an exanvple to the church. When He rose from the altar He might have said, “If I then, your Lord and Master, pray; so ought ye also to pray.” Prayer insures safety. You may pray without words: prayer may be in the glance of the eye, in the heaving of the troubled breast. One sigh may be more devotional than the most elaborate liturgy. We err in imagining that prayer is to be measured by syllables. My shortest prayers have often brought me nearer heaven than those which contained many words. If you can really spend hours in true prayer, gladly consecrate the time to that purpose; but be not deterred from the heavenly throne because your words are few, and simple, and broken.

Solitude and prayer are sources of power.

“He humbled Himself.” — Pant. ii. 8.

The humiliation of Christ revealed the riches of His nature. This may startle by its boldness, but it is true nevertheless. There is a sense in which even darkness is a revealer. There are objects which cannot be seen by the naked eye in the blaze of the sun. Let me illustrate the meaning of the assertion that THE HUMILIATION OF CHRIST RE-VEALED THE RICHES OF HIS NATURE. Hasten down to Eden on the day of Adam’s entrance on that enchanting scene, and tell me what were Adam’s feelings at the first sunset. Using the language of popular astronomy, the sun sought the western horizon; shadows were cast over the paths of Eden, and the broad rivers darkled rapidly as the hours fled: what apprehensions agitated the bosom of Adam? What was that great flaming orb which had kept him company during the day? Was it a fire-eyed visitor, who had come from heavenly regions to gaze on the last triumph of creative power? Was it an offended spectator, who hurried from a scene on which he could no longer look with complacent smile? Such questions might excite wonder, and turn the soul inquiringly on the all-knowing Creator. The shadows deepen, but lo ! —

“Hesperus with the host of heaven came.”

The one eye closed, and behold! myriads of bright eyes glittered in the firmament. The calm, trembling, pulsing stars were only waiting until the royal orb languished on his “couch of gold,’

and then hung out their lamps, as if to light him to the tomb. Carry this illustration into the moral world. Christ for countless ages had shone as the Sun of heaven; angels rejoiced in His light and reflected His splendour; in process of time that heavenly Sun must set, Christ must be born of a woman: behold the staggering angels, as they gaze on a departing Christ; they desire to look into the mystery, but divine wisdom forbids; would the universe be shrouded in darkness? might their golden harps remain mute for ever? was God about to close the history of all existences? They knew not; but while lost in wonder, see, there flashes forth the star of Bethlehem; and ’tis but a herald star, for countless others ‘glitter round it, and we behold in the night of humiliation what we saw not in the dazzling splendour of regal day.

Is the tenderest pity a star? It shone on the night of humiliation. Is the deepest condescension a star? It shone on the night of humiliation. Is the sweetest gentleness a star? It shone on the night of humiliation. Is the purest sanctity a star? It shone on the night of humiliation. In seeing Christ’s humiliation we saw His wealth. Having seen a pity which never failed, a condescension which scorned not the lowest depths of misery, a gentleness tenderer than maternal love, a sanctity unparalleled and incorruptible, we have a clearer and fuller comprehension of that mysterious expression, ‘“THE UNSEARCHABLE RICHES OF CHRIST.” The humiliation of Christ was a display of His transcendent power. ‘True humiliation cannot take place without true power; Christ, therefore, gave as striking a proof of His omnipotence in His self-humiliation as though He had adorned His head with a diadem of suns. I wish it to be felt that all the steps of His humiliation were taken by Himself. See how the process stands : — ‘ “made Himself of no reputation.”

“took upon Him the form of a servant.”

“He humbled Himself.”

“He became obedient unto death.” In all this CHRIST HIMSELF WAS THE ONLY AGENT! The sun has no power to quench his own beams. The river cannot reverse its course. Man has no alternative but to obey the voice of death. How gloriously does the humiliation of Christ contrast with this powerlessness! Behold the sublimity of the attitude which Christ assumes in relation to death, — He became obedient to it! He was death’s King. Death could never wield its fatal sword apart from His permission, yet now he unbares His bosom and bids the monster strike. For long ages death has stood by His throne and obeyed His will, but in this hour the King himself lays aside His robes of majesty, and orders the sword of death to be plunged into His heart.

Was ever love like this? Can we wonder that. when men are fully impressed with the pureness, the grandeur, the freeness of this love, they sing, —

‘‘ Love so amazing, 80 divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all” P

“Christ both died, and rose.” — Rom. xiv. 9.

Amid the melancholy gloom of Calvary, Joseph and Nicodemus revealed themselves as the disciples of Jesus. Till this hour they had remained publicly undeclared; but that which they confessed not openly in the days of the living Christ, they pledged over the altar of His mangled corpse. Thus, while the men who would have called fire from heaven to consume the adversaries of Christ forsook the standard, two comparative strangers, distinguished for opulence and learning, claimed the body of their tortured Lord.

I regard the death and resurrection of Christ’ as striking symbols of the course and triumph of the truth. Let us dwell on the first point, —

I, THE DEATH OF CHRIST SYMBOLIZES THE
TERRIBLE CONFLICTS IN WHICH THE TRUTH HAS
OFTEN BEEN ENGAGED.

The history of truth, like the history of Christ, might be largely written in tears and blood. The enemy has never relinquished a position without endeavouring to pierce the heart of his celestial assailant. The truth has had to climb the heaving sides of the voleano, and cross the boiling breast of. the foaming deep. She has had to sound the trumpet which announced her own presence; she has entered regions in which no friendly voice hailed her as a welcome visitant; she has had to pursue her way through the fiery furnace of incipient perdition; and her dreary course has often lain in desolate cemeteries, in which the fairest graces and virtues lay entombed, “unwept, unhonoured, and unsung.”

There are two particulars in the history of Christ which impressively characterize the fate of truth, —

First. It has been promoted to a fictitious royalty. They clothed the Saviour in a “purple robe, and put a sceptre in His hand, and bowed the knee, saying, Hail, king of the Jews!” So with the truth: some have arrayed it in the purple robe of mere profession; some have placed in its hand the sceptre of financial swpport; and others have rendered it a hypocritical homage. Looking from the distance, you would have imagined that the Jews had actually received the doctrine of Christ’s kingship, and appointed a coronation day: and so, looking at a distance on men’s conduct in relation to truth, you would occasionally almost believe that they confessed its sovereignty, and would hence-on bow loyally to its sternest requirements. We are deluded. It is but a temporary and fictitious royalty to which the truth is promoted. Its enemies design its deepest humiliation; distance has deceived us, — the truth is doomed to the cross.

Second. It has been abandoned when allegiance became perilous. “Then all the disciples forsook Him, and fled.” In the history of almost every truth this short sentence forms a part. When truth is popular, the basest coward will sing its praises; but let it never be forgotten that cowardice ever seeks the crowd; all cowards are gregarious, they dare not appear alone. So long as some men can make capital by their allegiance to the truth, you may rely on their adherence. They would sell their mother’s blood for money; they would mortgage the throne of God for money; they would risk their eternal damnation for gold! As the storm tries the vessel, so the storm tries the professors of truth. The vessel may present a noble figure on the calm waters, but when those waters leap upon her in their tempestuous wrath, the soundness of her timbers will be tested. So with men in relation to divine truth: they are valorous when there is no opposing army, heroes while the enemy sleeps; but in the day of the foe you will find who are the true soldiers, and who are heartless recreants.

Take the next point : —

Il. THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST SYMBOLIZES
THE ULTIMATE TRIUMPH OF TRUTH.

As surely as Christ rose will every smitten truth rise. The rolling stone, the rending sepulchre, the staggered guard, the shining angels, the comforted women, are all eloquent of the truth’s triumphant future. We shall, however, more perfectly appreciate the victory by taking note of some of the difficulties which have been overcome : —

First. Every interruptive expedient has been adopted. In the case of Christ’s burial we have a great stone, an armed guard, an official seal. Everything that a determined and vigilant ingenuity could devise was adopted to insure the defeat of the new faith, The counterpart of these precautions may be found in the history of all truth. Such a mode of procedure suggests two great facts in man’s moral nature : —

(a) Man’s latent belief mm the great truths of Christianity. Those men had a secret conviction that Christ might rise again. Had their disbelief in His divine power been unmingled by a doubt, they would have defied all the stratagems of the cowardly men who had*deserted Him in the midnight of His troubles. —

(6) Man’s awful dread of awakening a slumbering conscience. He rolls a great stone to the tomb door, surrounds it with an armed guard, and keeps intruders at the greatest possible distance. Every footfall strikes terror into his heart. The hymn of the morning songster is to him a burdensome grief lest it should awake the angry sleeper. But as in the case of conscience, so in the case of truth, every effort is vain: the sentinels of darkness are smitten to the earth, and the revived Power scorns every foe!

Second. Homage has been developed where least expected. Joseph and Nicodemus were type-men ; — they were part of God’s reserve host. Elijah imagined himself the only faithful representative of truth, but He who knoweth every soldier in His — army assured the desponding prophet that there were seven thousand men who had not bowed the knee to Baal! As the Israelites drank water from the rock in the wilderness, so has the truth in her desert travels found water where she least expected a spring, — so careful hath God been of the highest interests of man’s complex nature.

Third. Enemies have been driven to the adoption of most miserable subterfuges. There was strange confusion among the enemies of Christ when the vacant sepulchre was discovered, and in the hour of bewilderment excuses and explanations were rife. Bribery, false accusation of the disciples, and lies to the governor, followed in rapid succession. It was found that no sin is self-terminating, — bribery necessitated cognate sins. It was furthermore found then, as it may be found now, that there are men ever ready, at the bidding of self-interest, to become the tools of a party. Of the soldiers it is signifi-HIDDEN SPRINGS, Sor

cantly recorded, “So they took the money, and did as they were taught.” There are many histories condensed into that short expression. Money secures much obedience. Satan has made good use of gold, — good, in his own sense of the term. Dishonesty has its price, but faithfulness who can buy? Truth cannot be bribed into silence ; — its sacred watchword is, “I cannot but speak the things which I have seen and heard.”

Come, then, “see the place where the Lord lay.” In seeing that, you may learn how bitter and awful may be the temporary lot of truth, — how futile are all expedients to prevent its progress, — how selfresurrectional is its triumphant and eternal power.

“The Lord is risen indeed.” — LvuKE xxiv. 34.

The posthumous appearances of Christ indicate an ample field of speculation. Why did Christ reappear to His disciples? Was the resurrection necessary to the completion of the atonement? Would not the way to God have been as effectually opened had Jesus Christ passed into heaven as His saints are allowed to pass? These inquiries would lead us into boundless realms of thought. We have a special purpose in view, however, and care not to enlarge upon these problems farther than to suggest that Christ’s posthumous appearance would (1) disprove the prognostications of His enemies; (2) clothe His offers of life with overwhelming power; (3) display His sovereignty over the laws of being; and (4) illustrate the depths of His interest in human salvation. The purpose of which I am in pursuit is to answer the inquiry, In what spirit did Jesus return from the dead? He might have risen retributively, — His eyes might have flashed lightning on His murderers. He might have risen scornfully, saying to His tormentors, you see that I am divine — you would like to fraternize with Me mow that My omnipotence has been proved; but I repel you, I laugh you to scorn, and I leave the earth to rot. In no such spirit, however, did Jesus return from the dead. Let us hear His own statement. “All power is given unto Me in heaven and in earth” — what then? Launch the bolts of destruction? Smite My destroyers? Avenge Me of Mine enemies? No! hear the loving command, “Go ye therefore, and teach all nations!” You see, hence, that Christ rose in a spirit of wniversal benevolence. He compassionated the nations, and created an instrument by which they might hear the saving truths of the gospel. A great life-principle is here suggested, viz., THE SPIRIT WHICH WAS FOUND IN CHRIST AFTER HE ROSE FROM THE DEAD WILL BE FOUND IN EVERY MAN AFTER A MORAL RESURREC-TION. “Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus.” When men are quickened from death in trespasses and sins, they look upon the nations in a new aspect. Aforetime they looked upon the world commercially, politically, or geographically: they regarded the earth as a gigantic cornfield, an immeasurable mine, or a vast cotton plantation; but now that the love of Christ burns in their hearts, they exclaim, “The fields are white unto the harvest!” Brethren, are you smitten with compassion as you reflect on the moral condition of the countless heathen? Remember that “if any man have not the spirit of Christ he is none of His.”

“That I may know Him, and the power of His resurrection.” — Pait. iii. 10.

Every soul has a supreme desire. “That I may” is the watchword of all ambition. One of the mightiest spirits with which creative energy ever blessed the world expressed its loftiest desire in those pure and noble words — “That I may know Him, and the power of His resurrection.” There is remarkable fulness in this word “know.” ‘The y Apostle desires not a mere acquaintance with Christ as an historical personage; he would imbibe His spirit, assimilate into His nature, understand the secret springs of His unparalleled benevolence, and ) produce His brilliant life. Vv Who knows a country” best — the man who has passed through it with all the rapidity of modern locomotion, or the man who has spent years amid its hills and dales, its woods and rivers? Whose verdict on an individual character is most trustworthy — his who has had but a superficial acquaintance with the individual in question, or his who has seen that individual in all the mutations of poverty and wealth, grief and joy, disappointment and realization? Those inquiries admit of but one reply. So in relation to Christ: he who “knows” Christ can best explain His words, trust His promises, reveal His nature, In proportion as you “know” Christ, can you. understand His most mysterious and His most awful utterances. How many mistakes, for example, have been made by those who “know” not the Saviour, as to the woes which escaped His lips! The unsympathetic and ignorant have been smitten with amazement as they have heard thunders of objurgation uttered by the meek and lowly Jesus. Not knowing Christ, they failed to comprehend how — gentleness could frown, and love’s benignant eye flash with retributive fire. They have ascribed these woes to passion, — they have transfigured the Saviour into an avenging fury! Those, however, who “know” Christ, can trace even His anathemas to the fountain of His holiness, — His severest rebukes to His incorruptible and eternal love. A stranger, watching the countenance or actions of your chosen friend, may misinterpret expressions or deeds, — may classify his manifestations under false categories, — may see irreverence in his playfulness, harshness in his fidelity, excess in his generosity: but you, “knowing” the heart thus severely criticized, can see veneration in its lightness, and from its every string can evoke the music of an unsuspecting and self-oblivious love! —. The illustration may be applied to the Saviour. He is the best interpreter of Christ who “knows” Christ best. The child, not the alien, can best expound the father’s utterances. Sympathy is the true exponent. The man who is out of sympathy with Christ will never excel as a commentator on the New Testament. Sympathy can remove difficulties before which a heartless criticism can only tremble. / Be it our daily prayer, then, that we “may know” Christ, — become part of Him, become familiar with His infinite purity, His boundless love, His unutterable mercy!

“And the power of His resurrection.” We are to “know” this “power,’ — having experienced it in our moral nature we’ shall best know it. You can “never truly know a resurrection by pictures and theories; you must have heard the trumpet which alone can awake the dead, — you must be able to say, “Come, see the place where my nature lay,” ere you can know the “power” of Christ’s “resurrection.” Moral resurrection is attested by infallible signs. “If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ sitteth at the right hand of God.” Moral crucifixion must precede moral resurrection. By the cross of Christ the “world is crucified unto us and we unto the world.” When the wondering and bewildered disciples doubted as to Christ’s identity, “He showed them His hands and His feet.’ When persons question your Christianity, can you show them the print of the nails in your hands, — can you show the blood-marks on your feet? Can you say to every Didymus, “Reach hither thy hand, and thrust it into my side”? This is the appeal which can stagger an incredulous world! Ours need be no war of words. He who carries the nail-print carries the best volume of evidence. The prerced hand can smite the stoutest foe. Let us prove that our passions have been mortified, that the old serpent has been “bruised,” that the carnal nature has suffered death, — then shall we “know Christ, and the power of His resurrection.”

“Then were there brought unto Him little children, that

He should put His hands on them, and pray.” — Marr.

xix. 13.

Few scenes in the life of Christ combine so many elements of interest as that in which little children were brought for His benediction. Jesus had been healing the sick and answering the captious inquiries of the Sadducees, when anxious mothers brought their infants to the place where Christ abode. Having been blessed themselves, they were solicitous on their children’s behalf. Not doubting the Master’s readiness to smile on the little ones, they paused not to ask the leave of those by whom He was surrounded. The disciples, probably anxious that their Lord should have rest, forbad the approaching mothers; but Jesus, hearing the rebuke of His followers, commanded that the children should be introduced to His presence. True greatness can accommodate itself to the minute as well as to the vast. The atmosphere not only vitalizes the cedars ‘ of Lebanon and the oaks of Bashan, but droppeth a blessing into the cup of the fragile flower. Jesus Christ was the impersonation of the loftiest greatness; hence we find Him not only engaged in refuting the sophistries of Sadduceeism, or quieting tumultuous seas, or awaking the dead, but also in crowning the head of infancy with the diadem of His blessing.

This scene brings Christ before us in three most impressive aspects : —

J. AS THE CENTRE OF A CONSCIOUSLY NECESSITOUS WORLD. —

The blind, the deaf, the leper, the demon-bound, had been given to understand that Jesus had sovereign control over their several maladies, and would deliver them from pain and thraldom. Hence on every road might be found multitudes whose eager inquiry was for Jesus of Nazareth. The blind man felt that his sightless eye-balls formed the best apology for his intrusion on the Son of God; and the leper, that he could carry no weightier letter of introduction to the Great Healer than his poor emaciated frame. ‘hose sufferers felt their need of Jesus. Christ was the one Light in a desert of intensest darkness, and men enkindled their torches at His flame: He was the Bread, and multitudes of men dying of hunger begged that they might eat and live: He was the fountain of consolation, and all diseased and broken hearts panted for the refreshing stream, The doubter came with his perplexities: the sophist with his questions: the traveller with his burden: all men for the purposes which severally controlled their hearts. Men ran toward Christ as though they might lose a transient opportunity; hence the hours of His life were crowded with deeds of love.

II. AS SURROUNDED BY MEN WHO DID NOT COM-PREHEND THE UNIVERSALITY OF His MISSION.

The disciples had but an imperfect conception of the mission of Christ. They grasped not the benevolence of His heart. Their conduct in this case shows, —

First. That men have mistaken notions regarding the dignity of Christ. Christ’s dignity was never offended but by sin. He was never ashamed of the companionship of poverty and toil. To be seen blessing a child was not a degradation. I would to God that all who have assumed Christ’s name entertained the same notions of dignity as did their Master.

There would not be one forsaken duty. We should have no mendicant offices in the church. The servant is often more haughty than his lord. True christian dignity consists in veneration without cant, in freedom without licentiousness, in joy without levity, in condescension without serfdom. Learn dignity of Christ. In Him we shall see how to stoop without servility, to suffer without cowardice, to conquer without vaunting. Second. That men have presumed to define the classes that shall approach Christ. The disciples would not admit children to the Lord’s presence, and they are but types of a multifarious class. In our own age there are men audacious enough to cry, “Thow shalt not.” Priests have announced themselves as gates to heaven. An infamous antinomianism has analyzed and classified the race into “saved” and “damned.” There are men who would deter the guilty and shattered prodigal from returning to his Father’s house, and arrest others who are flying straight to the Tree of Life on which the Saviour bleeds, that they may perplex and entangle them in subtle, mysterious, infinite questionings which the corrupt soul can never solve. I proclaim the wickedness of every man who would forbid the sinner’s approach to Christ. The benevolent Saviour has employed no human keepers of the gates of salvation. The pompous and fastidious sentinels who watch there are self-placed; they have no divine credentials; pass them, therefore, O Christ-seeker, and defy their malignant but puny power.

Third. That even well-meaning men may be obstacles in the path of Christianity. I cannot question the motive of the disciples in forbidding the approach of the children; I believe that their veto may be satisfactorily accounted for: the principle, however, remains the same, that well-intentioned people may be stumbling-blocks. We find illustrations among those who would forbid the opening of the sanctuary on any but the regularly appointed occasions — those who would hold the prayer meeting in a back building, lest the church pews should be injured by some undevout alien who might find his way to the place of public concourse. Well-meaning but short-sighted people are continually mistaking the great purposes of divine love, and thereby incurring the Master’s rebuke. Their dwarf souls cannot comprehend the sublimities of the Eternal; they imagine that the Infinite is to be measured by their little standard, and hence their lives are a series of well-intentioned blunders and devout misapprehensions.

Ili, As ASSERTING THE SOVEREIGNTY AND FUL-NESS OF HIS GRACE.

“But Jesus said, .°... forbid them. not,” Two voices were heard on this question; the voice of the servant and the voice of the Lord. As is’a man’s soul so is his voice. The half-grown soul speaks in negatives, is fond of a “little brief authority,” and omits no opportunity of flourishing its official baton. The voice of a true sovereign is a positive welcome: it cannot “forbid” the forthputting of the feeblest power in the right direction; such a voice hath ever a cheerful word for the blind man groping his way, or the leper stealthily hastening to the feet of Jesus. Christ nullified the veto of the disciples, so can He set aside the edicts of councils, and reverse the verdict of all lower courts. Let each sinner continue his pursuit of Christ until Christ himself cries, “Approach Me not.”

Many useful words might be added, but our purpose permits only a reference to the doctrine of infant salvation. Concerning infants, we have the assurance that “of such is the kingdom of heaven.” To those who have relinquished their loved ones at the imperious bidding of death, those words must be instinct with a true music. How gladly doth the heart-door open to admit such a message! Your infant is im heaven. The young spirit — winged, holy, and beautiful — sits by the “pure river,” or rests amid the branches of the life-tree. It is there, may I hope? as an wnstalment of yourself. Are you not determined to follow that prized one? Doth not its glorification invest heaven with increased attractiveness? Is not the crystal river more inviting because it re-

fleets the image of your child? Up and on, poor heart-wrung parents; by the blood of the everlasting covenant, you and the sainted treasure may know the joys of eternal re-union.

I must softly breathe one word into the chamber in which a distracted mother is fighting with death for the life of her babe. Yours is, indeed, a sore conflict. Your soul quakes as the feeble light flickers in the dying eye. Love trembles on the verge of madness. But why? You are intercepting your child’s passage to the King’s presence! You are standing between the child and the light of eternal glory! You are smiting the hand of the child’s emancipator! Jesus Christ has commissioned the angel of death to visit your garden, and pluck the flower to which you lovingly cling. Let it go; it is for transplantation, not destruction; and though the voice is to you harsh and pitiless, it is only death’s rough way of delivering the King’s message, “Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto Me.”

“Then after that saith He to His disciples, Let us go into Judea again. His disciples say unto Him, Master, the Jews of late sought to stone thee; and goest thou thither again?” — Joun xi. 7, 8.

~

“The Jews sought to stone me” would be, for -

certain natures, a sufficient reason for not again venturing into their.presence. Christ teaches us one divine lesson by this act of fortitude, viz., to go wherever there is work to be done. In Judea there was a sleeper who could be awakened by His power alone; hence He returned to Judea, in spite of the malignity which He had recently endured. Christ was called, by the sympathy of His own heart, to remove the sorrow which threatened to engulph two bereaved sisters, and to prove His divinity by a miraculous exertion of His power. He knew that in Judea there were multitudes ready to put Him to death; yet His own convictions overbalanced the fury of His enemies, and brought Him to the graveside of His beloved Lazarus.

Christianity develops true fortitude. There is a bravery which results from animal passion, there is a courage which arises from ambition, pride, love of applause; but these must be distinguished from christian heroism. The valour of a Christian is the result of regnant conviction: he is heroic because he is right; he fights to prove his loyalty to divine principles. Can your faith bear stoning? Dare you venture into Judea when every hand is ready to smite you? These are test-questions. It is but a lean, shivering, pitiable faith that dreads any form of reproach or chastisement.

Clamour is not necessary to the exhibition of true fortitude. Some men cannot fight without acquainting the public with their battles. Christ was often dumb in His sufferings; He had not always the relief which speech or groan often insures, “He opened not His mouth.” His was true endurance; His deepest sufferings secretly exhausted themselves. Christ endured many stonings of which history is ignorant. The severest trials of fortitude are not necessarily visible: the deadliest blows are aimed in the sacred hours when eye and pen are excluded.

The church that fears stoning is useless for practical purposes; it may be ornamental, but its beauty is perishable. It will make no vital impression on a neighbourhood; it is a delicate hot-house plant, that cannot bear the climate of an unsympathetic and ruthless world. Christ mm a church will lift that church above the fear of stoning; for Christ transforms the churches into His own nature, We shall be surrounded by weaklings and cowards, until the fellowship of professors be entirely impregnated by the spirit of Him who never quaked in the presence of danger, or blushed in the enunciation of the principles on which His life was founded.

“Behold, I bring Him forth to you. that ye may know that I find no fault in Him.” — Jouwn xix. 4, Probably there is not, in the whole compass of history, a more vivid illustration of hesitancy and instability than that afforded by the conduct. of Pilate immediately prior to the crucifixion. In the outset, Pilate was reluctant to undertake the judgment of the case; hence he said to the Jews. “Take ye Him, and judge Him according to your law.” Being compelled to ascend the judgment-seat, he held a private interview with Jesus, and then uttered the memorable declaration, “I find in Him no fault at all,” John xviii. 38. Again did the implacable Jews treat the Saviour with the most studied indignity, crowning Him with thorns, and putting on Him a purple robe, exclaiming, “Hail, King of the Jews!” and smiting Him with their hands. Pilate again protested, saying, “Be- ‘hold, I bring Him forth to you, that ye may know that I find no fault in Him.” Hardly had the utterance fallen, till the rabble thundered out, “Crucify Him, crucify Him!” The hesitant judge interposed, saying, “Take ye Him, and crucify Him: for I find no fault in Him,’ — the savage reply was instantaneous, “We have a law, and by our law He ought to die, because He made himself the Son of God.” This was as an arrow shot into the heart of Pilate, for “when Pilate therefore heard that saying, he was the more afraid:” again did he confer with Jesus, and again was he impressed with the Saviour’s innocence; for, according to John, “from thenceforth Pilate sought to release Him.” Vainly, however, did he plead; the omnipotent appeal now rang from the maddened mob, “If thou let this man go, thou art not Czesar’s friend: whosoever maketh himself a king, speaketh against Cxesar.” “T’was enough; Pilate could stand no longer: “Then delivered he Him therefore unto them to be crucified. And they took Jesus, and led Him away.”

Such are the circumstances. Pilate was destitute of strong conviction, and was consequently weak in the presence of a determined opposition. Pilate had not learned the majesty of that most majestic word — OUGHT! That word is as a consuming fire, devouring all pleas and subterfuges: it is the watchword of the absolute in truth, purity, and freedom; it is the embodiment of God; it is the summary of the universe; it is the sentinel of heaven; it is the summary and memorial of Sinai; it is the immutable standard to which all loyal spirits will eternally aspire. Men are nothing if devoid of intelligent and all-daring convictions.

Such convictions will infallibly insure three results : —

First. Such convictions will deliver men from the despotism of popular fury. Is any position more unenviable than that of a Pilate between two great billows of passion? See an undecided official in church or senate called upon to determine a disputed question! He is the butt of every witling: he would vote on both sides: if his opinions venture the slightest disclosure, he trembles when the storm utters its voice: he is as helpless as the débris on the impetuous river, or the dust scattered by the whirlwind. A man of strong conviction in such a position would abide in perfect calm until the storm cried itself to sleep; then would he ascend the throne, and show that Right has patience to wait and power to conquer.

Second. Such convictions enable men to sacrifice the highest human patronage. To be “Cesar’s friend” is an object in whose attainment the sublimest principles are often trodden in the dust. There are men who can see no higher than Ceesar. Their feeble vision is so dazzled by the light of earthly pomp that they cannot see the “glory which excelleth.” The true-born son of thought and feeling looks through the mock-splendour of earthly jets to the palace where reigns the King Eternal, whose garment is light, and whose throne is built of the riches of the universe; and beholding the Majesty of Heaven, he scorns the patronage of any Czesar for which he must pay his blood or mortgage his eternity!

Third. Such convictions enable men to serve the truth im the most perilous circumstances. “Perfect of personal love” of principle will “cast out fear’

injury. He is the truly royal man who, in divine

strength, “plants his footsteps on the sea, and rides

upon the storm.” Ornamental men may be ap- 2A plauded in seasons of calm, but they are useless when fire-bolts are flying, and foundations shaking, and thunders rolling ; — then we require men who can front frowning senates, and abash them with the regal decree, “WE OUGHT TO OBEY GOD RATHER THAN MEN”!

Let us be strong, — “strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus.” Being found mighty in faith, “rooted and grounded in love,” invincible in argument, and unimpeachable in life, we shall be the faithful servants of all the principles which can inspire and ennoble the race. We shall be firm as the eternal granite, and gentle as the harmless dove. When the enemy demands our crucifixion of the truth, instead of being Pilate-like, we shall reply by a louder utterance of its praise, and a profounder reverence at its throne!

The Apostle seems to have taken special delight in rebuking all garrulous and self-sufficient pom- * posity. He delighted in throwing down the Babeltowers of frenzied ambition. His power of sarcasm, often held in strong check, however, is always great; but when he has to deal with the ever-wagging tongue of ignorance, his method is terrible. Sometimes its very childlike simplicity is its most fearful feature. Take a case : —

“For if a man think himself to be something, when he is nothing, he deceiveth himself,”

Was ever a crazy ambition, or a pompous selfinflation, so quietly put down? O the power of that quiet scorn! There is no fury, no tumult, no hissing denunciation, but a whisper that chills the very heart of vanity.

Sometimes he adopts a graver tone : —

“I say, through the grace given unto me, to every man that is among you, not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think; but to think soberly, according as God hath dealt to every man the measure of faith.”

Then he passes into a shriller tone; his voice sweeps through the church like a brisk, whistling wind : —

“If any man think that he knoweth anything, he knoweth nothing yet as he ought to know.”

Such talk would cause a terrible ruffling and. shuffling in our pews. For a man to be told that his prized and petted “something” is in reality

“nothing,” is a piercing test of his magnanimity.

I am afraid that many of us are defective in moral symmetry. Some men are great Christians upon one point, and some are great Christians upon another. One man is a great Christian in the matter of sabbath school teaching, and another a stupendous Christian in the matter of total abstinence from all strong drink. We may be too much in the habit of singling out special virtues, to feed them up to a

we high pitch, in order to carry off the prize at the ecclesiastical show. This would give but a poor idea of the roundness, the completeness, and the inclusiveness of the christian life. Suppose that next summer should grow little but sunflowers, and the following mainly abound in roses, and the third be chiefly distinguished for violets; however rich might be the produce of each, the summer, as a whole, would be accounted poor and ill-clad. Summer develops all the growing power of the soil, and so moral summer does not bring forth an isolated excellency, but clothes the human tree with “all manner of fruit.”

Some men have a wonderful genius for making a gospel to suit their own particular line of conduct. When they feel disinclined to attend the week-evening service, they write a life of Christ, from which they conclusively prove that the Christian’s main business is at home, in the bosom of his own family; and when they do go to such a service, and their hearts are made to glow with love for God’s house, they write another life of Christ, by which they logically demonstrate that all the absentees have been incurring the most awful guilt. This is not the gospel according to one of the four evangelists; it is the gospel according to the weathercock.

Christ “gave some apostles, and some prophets, and some evangelists, and some pastors and teachers,” but His churches have exorbitantly demanded that each minister shall actually represent the whole of these officers in his own person. The minister is salaried to excel in each department: He is to be clear eyed as an apostle, full hearted as a pastor, swift footed as an evangelist, ready tongued as a teacher; to all this he is to add as many excellencies as would make half a dozen respectable reputations. And all this ecclesiastical furniture, china, plate, and glass is to be hired out at the dazzling rate of £150 per annum. Yet, in the face of all this, the church is said not to be “wise in her generation.” If making a sharp bargain, if cutting down a minister’s board and lodging to a minimum, if keeping the pieties, the graces, the virtues, and the excellencies on dry bread and hard, pillows are elements of wisdom, then the church is about the wisest, sharpest, and shrewdest buyer that tramps through the world’s exchanges.

Almighty God has to tolerate more puerility in His service than any monarch on earth, If Christianity had not been divine, it would have been ruined by many of its own preachers long ere now. The wonder .is, not that it has escaped the cruel hand of the infidel (it can double up a whol army of crazy atheists), but that it has survived the cruel kindness of its shallow expositors. Such expositors would have killed any heresy, and the only reason why they have not killed Christianity is that Christianity is of God.

You call Methuselah an old man; and so he truly was if you reckon life by clockbeats. He saw more sunsets than any mortal upon the earth. Yet you may find many a youth who has not seen twenty Junes, who is older than Methuselah. Men live fast now. Thousands of youths have traversed half the world, seen its grandeurs of landscape, swept through its temples of art, thrilled to its harps of genius, ere yet the summer of their manhood has glowed upon them. A thousand years are becoming as one day, so rapidly do men now consume themselves. Age is not to be measured by the wrinkles on the brow, but by the furrows on the heart.

Does the Bible contradict itself when it says, “Thy loving-kindnesses have been ever of old,’ and that “they are new every morning”? Beautiful is the conjunction of old and new. Time is old, but morning is young: light is ancient as eternity, but swnrise is new every day: duration goes on for ever, but the sunniest June never lived longer than a month.

‘And they feared as they entered into the cloud.” — Luxx ix. 34,

Man is harassed by groundless fears. Who has ever looked for blessings in a cloud? Were we appointed to collect the riches of the universe, how many would pass by the clouds, as though in their dark and troubled breasts no treasure could be found! How often have we trembled as we have entered into the cloud of bereavement, or sorrowful apprehension; and yet in such a cloud have we heard a voice, as did the trembling disciples! In the cloud which they dreaded they heard the divine voie; henceforward, then, let us gratefully remember that even a cloud can contain a blessing, and that sometimes fear is but the quaking harbinger of joy.

“There was no room for them in the inn.” — LUvEE ii. 7.

A fit prelude to a life of poverty, ‘humiliation, and sacrifice. By a vision of the night, when “deep sleep falleth upon man,” God could have prepired the keeper of the inn for the reception of tie world’s Saviour: by a message conveyed by «ngelic lips He could have commanded the most sumptuous welcome which earth’s palaces could afford: He who created the beauties which - smibd on the bosom of Paradise, could have called into existence a garden blooming with flowers which never graced primeval Eden, and amid its blushing charms the “Rose of Sharon” might have budded. But no. In God’s estimation, what difference is there between a palace and a manger? Whatever Christ touched He dignified. The kiag untouched by Christ is “blind, and miserable, and naked;” the pawper in whose breast Christ abides is gifted with loftiest dignity. Christ shed a glory round that eastern stable. Had infant Cosrs pillowed their heads in the manger it would have been a manger still; but Christ having found a cradle there, the manger is henceforth distinguisied by such a glory as never shone on the palaces of kings. (

TELEGRAMS.

1. “He shall give His angels charge concerning Thee,” Matt. iv. 6. “Angels came and ministered unto Him,” Matt. iv. 11. The juxtaposition of these passages discovers a point of singular beauty, and importance in the temptation of Jesus. In the’ first instance, the tempter perverts and misapplies a quotation from the Psalms; he tempts Jesus to precipitate Himself from the pinnacle of the temple, and supports his plea by the assurance that God would send His angels to save Him from ruin. The point to be noted here is that no angel band appeared and confirmed the declaration; no radiant host sprang from the invisible into the visible, and, spreading their broad pinions of light, said, “Yea, fall on us, and confound the tempter by this display of faith in God.” No. Nota wing rustled, not a breath stirred the wondering air, not a voice broke the muteness of astonished nature. Keep this first fact in view, then, and -connect it with another, When the tempter had exhausted His quiver, and turned away foiled, and scornful of a power mightier than his own, then “angels came and ministered unto” the Son of God. Is there no meaning in this? When the devil tempted the angels to come forth and save the Messiah, not an angel responded to the alien’s voice — “The voice of strangers they will not follow:” when that voice was heard, all was quiet, as though angels had fled to a distant clime; but as soon as those blessed spirits were really needed to sustain the exhausted though victorious Lord, they hastened with fruit from the central tree of the inviolate Paradise, and “ministered unto Him.” The practical lesson is obvious; there is a time when angels will come, and also a time when they will not come. They never come to save presumption from its merited fate, but ever speed to protect faith, and guide “the heirs of salvation” throwgh the starry way into the ineffable glory.

2. Beautiful was Elisha’s recognition of the kindness rendered to him by the woman of Shunem. It is true that she provided his chamber only with “a bed, a table, a stool, and a candlestick;’ yet when a, prophet’s eye alights on the gifts of sympathy, a prophet’s tongue warms into the eloquence of gratitude, — “Behold, thou hast been careful for us with all this care; what is to be done for thee?’ The minister of God did not take the gifts of the people as though he had a right to them, but with fullest appreciation magnified the simplest service of hospitality into “all this care” The offering of a flower on the part of a homeless child might strike a monarch into tears. Generosity must answer generosity. You may have been in the grove at the golden time of dawn. You have heard the first note from some wakeful bird; how soon it was answered by another! Note answered note, trill replied to trill, until the whole place became a temple of song, and the light and the music made the new-born morning happy. So shall it be in the great moral dawn of generous manhood. Kindness shall answer kindness, man’s love shall reply to God’s love; every man shall give as a reason for his song, “I love Him because He first loved me;’ and this sacrifice of loving, adoring gratitude shall ascend to the smiling heavens, and earth itself shall become the little “chamber” in which the God of the prophets shall abide.

3. “All the disciples forsook Him and fled.” Mention the great names which any man casts out, or the great labourers whom he leaves to toil alone, and you instantly reveal the history of his soul. A sneer may be a summary of education. A smile may be a condensed biography. A man gives a daily revelation of himself in his pictures, his guests, his books. Let a man speak contemptuously of Milton, and he thereby declares himself a fool; let a general sneer at Cesar, and he need not otherwise proclaim himself a disappointed fox; let a man flee from Christ, and he will vividly demonstrate the depth and violence of his unconfessed depravity. But men shall not always flee from Christ. The nations shall all be His. Solitude shall pass into fellowship, fellowship shall deepen into brotherhood, ‘brotherhood is the blossom of heaven!

4, “Some doubted.” There is a kind of doubting which would appear to arise from a peculiarity of organization. There are minds which turn circumstances into questions, facts into problems. Such minds think that the highest words in human speech are “logic,” “evidence,” “demonstration.” Everything that they receive as true must come in a certain set of waggons, along a certain set of lines, through a certain set of tunnels, accompanied by a certain set of officials. I believe that honest doubt or hesitation as to the meaning of some things in Revelation is perfectly compatible with sonship. At the same time, there is a kind of doubt of which we should all beware. It is an ignorant, undevout» unresting, pertinacious, cantankerous suspicion; a suspicion that will drink no water that has not been drawn by its own leaky buckets; a suspicion that will not admit the sunlight until the sun has given a full and satisfactory account of the spots upon his face; a suspicion that is continually arranging the mental faculties into sub-committees to take into. consideration the general government of God; a suspicion, in short, that can exist only in foetid hearts and insane heads. Childlike doubt, reverential hesitation, is to be treated with great delicacy. A coarse denunciation of such doubt has done, incalculable injury to the church. Many a strongwinged, royal-hearted, daring genius has been imprisoned by our theological constables, and led up to the ecclesiastical scaffold by the hollow-hearted chaplains of a technical and stony orthodoxy. Many a broken heart marks the track of such champions of orthodoxy. ‘They think that the rod of persecution is a rod cut out of the tree of life. Christ was ever gentle to those whose hesitancy was conscientious and reverential, He had a “Woe” for the pompous Pharisee, but a “Reach hither thy finger” for the honest doubter.

5. Mysteries. What are they but as the earth at night-time, speeding on with swift wing to the all-revealing brightness of morning?

6. “What ye know not now ye shall know hereafter.” “Hereafter ye shall see heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of man.” “Hereafter ye shall see the Son of man sitting on the right hand of power.” What mysteries are in the “hereafters” of a great life! It is but a fractional life that has no “hereafter” to sing to it in sorrow, that can see nothing but the calamity that immediately impends. Jesus hath brought a good “hereafter” to the godly man; a “hereafter” of knowledge, of angelic manifestation, of fellowship with infinite power. It is a test of wisdom to. be able to look one’s “hereafter” lovingly and smilingly in the face.

7. You sometimes fear lest, after all, you are not Christ’s freemen. You talk of doubts and misgivings, of sudden checks and startling gloom falling on you at noontide. The vicissitudes of your experience occasion much perplexity, under the pressure of which you wonderingly exclaim, “Am I free indeed?” I have a word for you, a word of interpretation and cheer. Yes, you are free; but you are still in the land of your old bondage. The memorials of your enthralment are still round about you. It is with you as with a slave manumitted from physical bondage, but who yet remains in the country where everything reminds him of his former condition; still he sees the slave-masters; still he hears the swinging thong that is answered by human blood; still he hears the dolorous wail of wronged humanity, the clang of imprisoning chains, and the piercing voice of a tyranny that fattens itself on blasted manhood; and as he sees and hears all this, associated as it is with bitterest personal memories, ever and anon he shudders as if under the old grip, and asks, “Am I really free?” It is much the same with men who have been delivered from spiritual bondage. They are yet in the sphere of satanic agency. The old poisonous currents assail them, old voices of temptation try upon them the effect of the soft whisper, and thus they feel that still their feet wander in a weary way. Home by-and-bye! In the home-sphere there are no dark memories, but a continuity of “newness of life.”

8. “He hath done all things well,” not best. “Best” is one of our superlatives, by which we endeavour to express our ultimate conceptions of excellence; but as applied to God, the word “well” is more expressive than the word “best:” there is a dignity in “well” that is not to be found in its superlative. To God’s “well” there is no “better.”

9. “But of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it” (Gen. ii. 17). So long as there is a Sovereign in the universe, we must have regulations. Abolish restraining forces, and creation is plunged into endless anarchy. There must be a forbidden tree: that tree is the representative of the Infinite; it is God’s seal upon His own work. The finite must have a boundary somewhere; and there is no arrangement so fitting, so benevolent, so sublime as that God himself should point out the forbidden tree and show man the limit of His empire. “Thou shalt not” is a necessary part of all legislation. God has often written the words; they are upon the shore of every sea, commanding the invading waves back to their appointed place; they guard the lightning on its fiery way, and direct the sweep of the destroying angel; they are the voice of God; whoso neglects them must*necessarily die. “Thou shalt not” is an unalterable condition of wise and happy existence. Take away the “Thou shalt not” from your codes of legislation, and a consuming fire will reduce the nations to ashes, Take away the “Thou shalt not” from your domestic economy — have no forbidden tree in the garden of your home — and soon your domestic sphere will be a wreck. One of a child’s earliest lessons is “Thou shalt not;” so Almighty God, in introducing a child to Eden, writes “Thou ‘shalt not” around the root of the central tree. “Thou shalt not” is the guardian of order; it is the entreaty of pleading virtue; it marks off the dominion of rectitude from the wilderness of error; it is the ery of the Infinite to the children of a day.

10. “For in the day thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die.’ Death of some kind must ever follow the violation of moral‘law. The death here threatened is both corporeal and spiritual. The moment Adam sinned, Death sailed, as it were, along the stream of his blood, sat down on his heart,. and awaited the signal from heaven. That Adam did not immediately expire, and find a tomb within the shadow of the forbidden tree, is no proof that he did not become subject to physical death. Death ascended the throne on the birthday of sin. The flowers then hung their heads; they could look up no longer with their accustomed beauty, when, by anticipation, they felt themselves planted on the tomb of man. We must feel that it was right for man’s destiny to be suspended upon one act. You do not wait for a man to commit two thefts before you pronounce him a thief. It may require a lifetime to build a character, and but a moment to destroy one! So is it in every sense literally true — There is but a step between thee and death.”

11. Without root-forces we shall die. In friendship, in business, in speech, in religion, there must ever be more than is seen. The mightiest agents are working in secret. God himself is the Invisible.

12. The sabbath is older than Sinai. It came not by legislation, but, as it were, by necessity. Afterwards the sabbath was guarded by sanctions; but it was a birth of love, defended by the hand of law. That the sabbath was once given to man, the most violent anti-sabbatarian cannot deny: I say, then, that unless you can show me a direct repeal of the gift, I shall cling to it as an invaluable blessing. I don’t ask whether it was twice given, I ask

2B if it was once given, and being assured of that, I must have the most distinct decree of revocation before me ere I can give up a day sacred to rest and worship. Why should man busy himself in refining and philosophizing the gift away? I pronounce it immoral to be so engaged; it is base suspicion; it is songless, parched, damnable ingratitude. I ask again, Has God recalled the gift? If you answer, No, I shall smite the hand of the plunderer who would filch from my heart one of the richest gifts of Heaven. But Iam told the day has been changed. Tam glad it has! Did you never think of the infinite beauty of the arrangement that the day of resurrection should just be the day after creation? Did not God’s own hand put the days thus near each other? It was at the end of the sabbath, as it began to dawn toward the first day of the week, that the Saviour arose; hence the light of creation’s sabbath merged into the brighter beams of Christ’s resurrection-day. It was right to set apart a day on which to remember the lighting up of the sun, the piling of mountains, the covering of a naked world with a garment of many colours, — that was right; but the day after there was a deed done before which the creation of the universe sank into insignificance: the old creation-sabbath was no longer needed; on that sabbath the Creator himself slept the sleep of sacrificial death, and that one day obliterated the creation-sabbath; but next morning He arose, and hence-on resurrection-day was the rest-day of God and the rest-day of man.

13. “And they sewed fig-leaves together, and made themselves aprons.” Thus sin multiplies man’s necessities. Innocence needs no fig-leaves; it is its own best robe. Just, therefore, as man incurs guilt does he involve himself in many wants. Lead back your conventionalities, elegancies, and ingenious devices through their long pedigree, and you will eventually find yourselves side by side with the guilty pair under the shadow of the fig-tree. All attempts at moral culture are so many efforts to recover the robe lost in Adam’s fall. And with what success have those efforts been attended?

?

Alas! “fig-leaves” is the suggestive answer. We can never regain, by our own strength, the family robe; we wander in destitution and shame until the second Adam invests us with “fine linen” woven by His bleeding hands ;. and covered with

that we are fit for the society of God!

14. Men readily blame circumstances for their guilt. Had they been surrounded by the right conditions, they fondly imagine that they would have maintained their purity. They forget that it is the glory of manhood to conquer circumstances. With all their vaunted power, they are continually re-echoing their father’s mean declaration — *“The woman that Thou gavest to be with me, she gave me of the tree, and I did eat.”

15. The theologues have fought many a sturdy battle about “the final perseverance of the saints;” or, rather, I should say they have fought many a sturdy battle about “the final perseverance of;” for in their debates the principal word, “saints,” has often been entirely overlooked. They have fought about “final,” and they have fought about “perseverance,” and swung their gory battle-axes over each other’s heads with most desperate vengeance, without looking at the clear depths and infinite heights of all that is involved in the word “saints.” Put it thus, “The final perseverance of professors,” and I reject the doctrine as a fiction; but put it, “The final perseverance of the saints,” “the children,’ the “hevrs,” and I accept it as a glorious necessity, and mark it off as a never-failing fountain of consolation.

16. God has suffered Himself to be tested in innumerable ways by an unbelieving church. In this fact we have one of the most marvellous displays of His unbounded mercy. I know not that in all the history of apostasy there is a more sensuous and dishonouring test of divine goodness than was suggested by Israel in the wilderness, viz., “Can He provide flesh for His people?’ Ingratitude can never find a final test; so soon as one test is answered, another is suggested; and in this way ingratitude would for ever feast itself on the infamous amusement of fabricating puzzles for God. In this instance we have the human stomach made the arbiter of the human creed! “flesh” made the basis of faith. You see what an evil heart will lead men to, to what petty trifling as well as deep degradation; and you see, too, how little use there is in trying to silence objections by performing wonders of power; when the heart has lost its divine tone, miracles cease to thrill by their morality, and come to please simply by their mystery. Beware, then, O man, lest by thy questionings thou fallest into the sin of mocking God: he who begins by quibbling about the creation of the universe, may end by having no temple but his own stomach!

17. Evil must have a “bottomless pit,” for its tendency is ever downward. Man could not fall so low, were he not so great; ay, it is the abused God in a man that turns him into a devil.

18. Destiny may be easily read if you begin at the right word. Deeds are destiny; character is fate. If your works be right works (right evangelically), your destiny will be right. God will test every man’s works by fire. If there be not enough of God in a man’s works, they will become a lake of fire, in which the worker shall burn for ever; but if they have God in them fully, they will become a chariot of fire, bearing the worker to the felicities of heaven.

19. All men cannot work in the same way. “There are diversities of operation.” Upon the face of a watch you may see an illustration of my meaning. On that small space you have three workers: there is the second-pointer, performing rapid revolutions; there is the minute-pointer, going at a greatly reduced speed; and there is the hour-pointer, tardier still. Now any one unacquainted with the mechanism of a watch would conclude that the busy little second-pointer was doing all the work; it is clicking away at sixty times the speed of the minute-pointer: and as for the hour-hand, that seems to be doing no work at all. You can see in a moment that the first is busy, and in a short time you will see the second stir; but you must wait still longer to assure yourself of the motion of the third. So is it in the church. There are active, fussy men, who appear to be doing the work of the whole community, and others who are slower. But can we do without the minute and the hour pointers? The noisy second-hand might go round its little circle for ever, without telling the world the true time. We should be thankful for all kinds of workers. The silent, steady hour-hand need not envy its noisy little colleague. Each man must fill the measure of his capacity. Your business is to do your allotted work so as to meet the approbation of the Master.