The “I Will” of Confession
Matthew x. 32, 33
“Whosoever therefore shall confess Me before men, him will I confess also before my Father which is in heaven. But whosoever shall deny Me before men, him will I also deny before My Father which is in heaven.”
The heart thrills at the thought of the noble army of martyrs; far back in the ages of the past, it sees drawn out in long array the warriors of God, who were stoned and sawn asunder, who were tempted, who were slain with the sword. (Heb. xi. 37.) Yet nearer are to be seen the victims of the Pagan and the J ew, banded in unnatural unanimity against the people of the Lord; nearer still the hosts murdered by the church of Rome — men, women, and children, bearing upon them the marks of the stake, the halter, and the sword; until almost before our very eyes we see men and women from the missionary field, and from the persecutions of this bloody church of Rome, enlisted for that array in which every one is a true hero, as well as a glorified saint. Heroism’s loftiest annals are to be found in the history of the church of God.
But we must not fix our admiring gaze upon the noble army of martyrs alone; there is a vast body of confessors upon the earthy yea and a vast body of them with Christ in glory who have deep claims upon our notice; with the men who have passed through blood must be associated in some measure those who are ready so to do should there be a cause. These are God’s disciplined troops who have enlisted under His banner sworn allegiance to His cause and taken up the cross; they are men who have for the most part tasted more or less of the cup, which the martyrs drained to the dregs; they are confessors, and they are ready, wdien need be, to empty their veins, and become martyrs.
It is of such confessors that we have now to think for a little while; it is of them our blessed Lord speaks, in the j)assage in which we find this I wilL” Whosoever therefore shall confess Me before men, him will I confess also before My Father which is in heaven.“”
And at the outset lot us remember, that the ranks of confessors number amongst them all sorts and conditions of men.“” In those ranks may be found the king on his throne, and the beggar in the streets; and there may be as great a difference between the places in which confession is made as in the confessors themselves; the true confessor is to be found alike in the blaze of the most open publicity, and in the shade of deepest privacy; the confession may be amid trials of cruel mockings and scourgings, yea, moreover of bonds and imprisonment, amid wanderings about in sheep skins and goat skins, amid destitution, affliction, and torment, in deserts, and in mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth;“” or it may be only amid the petty persecutions of an ungodly home. Sometimes men prick us with their swords to see if we will confess Christ; and sometimes they only stick pins into ns to try whether we be in the faith; but confession is confession wherever and however it be made; we are required to be confessors in the circumstances in which God places us and we must not seek out circumstances for ourselves; we may rest assured it will always give us quite enough to do, to be equal to present circumstances; in them we may make the confession before men, and at last be confessed before the Father which is in heaven.
Let us now look a little closely into the matter, with reference to daily life, and see at once our duty and our reward.
And first of all let us look at this confession with reference to ourselves; what are we, common-place people perhaps, likely to have to do with it in our daily life?
It might be said by some, Oh, we are confessors; we acknowledge Christ to be the Lord; we would not deny that truth for the world.” No! not the abstract truth; but what about that truth when it makes demands in daily life?
We must at once clear out of our way the idea that we in this land of professing Christians are confessors, because we call ourselves Christians; it would require far more boldness for us in this country to confess, the Devil, and say we were not Christians, than to confess Christ and say we are.
There was a time when even to call oneself a Christian was to make the very highest confession, and to run the risk of martyrdom; what would some of our conlessors have done if they had stood before Nero and heard the howl of the wild beasts which were ready to break their bones? bare confession was something then; and it is something now in many a heathen land; and just see what it is to a Jew.
Whatever displeasure,” (says a converted Jew) “may arise in the minds of nominal Christians when their relations are in earnest about the salvation of their souls and give up all for Christ, it falls far short of what the poor converted J ew has to encounter, when about to publish in the world, and confess in the church, that the Lord Jesus Christ is his Redeemer. No one can adequately describe the sufferings, persecutions, and deprivations of the Jew, when he enlists under the banner of the Lord. Every endearing tie is torn asunder; he is spurned from the parental roof, detested, shunned, and excommunicated by every individual of his nation; his business, too, is quite ruined in consequence of his former friends abstaining from all intercourse with him, in secular concerns.”
Such suffering this poor fellow was soon called upon to endure. His first troubles came upon him at the time of the Passover. “My wife,” says he, “went to see my parents on the day preceding the festival. After the usual salutations, my mother said, I have been informed of something, which I hope is not true — that your husband has been baptized.’ My poor wife, being quite unprepared for such an address, could only reply by saying, Wou will see your son, and he will answer any questions you may wish to put to him.’ My mother continued, Mrs. W. says that we shall be disappointed in our anticipated enjoyment of the holidays, for that our son Henry (meaning myself) has been baptized, My mother added, If my son has been so mad as to act thus, I am confident that neither you nor your children will follow his example, My poor wife returned home quite cast down; she was hardly able to utter a sentence, and I confess that I felt sorely grieved, not because it was discovered that I had openly confessed the Lord, but that it was such a blow to the feelings of my dear parents and friends, towards whom, as well as towards all my kinsmen according to the flesh, I entertained the sincerest affection.
I understood that my mother intended to visit me. She, however, gave up her intention, and the elder of my two sisters came in her stead. After a little commonplace conversation, she said, Mrs. W. has informed me that you have been baptized, but I cannot believe it. Tell me if there is any foundation for such a scandalous report? I hope it is a false rumor, and I shall be greatly rejoiced to find it is so.^ I was now put to the test, whether I would deny Christ, and subject myself to be denied before the Father of our Lord Jesus, or confess Christ, and be declared before His heavenly Father, to be one of the sheep of His fold. I was not a moment in deciding what to do. The truth is, dear sister, I replied, that in the desire of doing all things to the glory of God, I have received the ordinance of baptism.’ I had scarcely uttered the words, when my poor misguided sister, unable to restrain her indignation, at first gave vent to her feelings by a flood of tears, and then, as if reproaching herself for her weakness, she arose, and changing her countenance, (which before had been placid,) to an expression of scorn and hatred, she said then sir we must have done with you for ever — you have made us all wretched — we shall he ashamed to see any of our friends; you have brought disgrace and scandal upon us and will bring the grey hairs of your parents with sorrow to the grave. If your heart is not yet so hardened as to be incapable of being moved at the grief and anguish you have occasioned your aged parents; if you do not desire to bo an outcast from your family, from your nation; if you will serve the God of your fathers, instead of being led astray by those Christian idolaters, I entreat you to turn away from them. You are but little acquainted with them as yet. They may appear favorably disposed towards you for a short space of time; but they will soon contemptuously leave you to deplore your consummate folly in giving your society to the heathens, in preference to that of God’s chosen people, and the company of strangers, to those of your father’s house.’ I endeavored (by appealing to her better reason) to soothe her agonized feelings, and assured her, that I did not look to man, but only to God. I said, that the Shepherd of Israel was gathering his sheep into his fold. She would listen to no more, but turning away, instantly left the house. After her departure, she gave vent to her outraged feelingi in a flood of tears, and I was afterwards informed, that she was three several times attacked with violent fits.
This was a season of great temptation to me; I loved my relations very dearly; for in addition to my having for them a natural affection, I now loved them for Christ’s sake, and for their souls’ sake. But even had it been possible for me to have loved them better than I did, my love to Jesus was paramount to all, for the love of Christ constrained me to give up all for Him, whom my soul loved. I now prayed earnestly that I might he enabled in this time of sore temptation to stand my ground, and that the word of God sown in my heart might take deep root. My family were determined to leave no means untried to win me back to them. Their mode of attack was cautiously planned; they did no offer any violent opposition to me at first, for they expected that that would at once have put an end to their hopes of regaining me. They knew how much I was attached to my youngest sister. We were nearly of the same age, and from our earliest infancy, our mutual affection attracted the attention of all who knew us. In all our little joys and griefs, there was a genuine sympathy of kindly feeling, and this attachment did not only exist in our early days, but continued afterwards unalloyed by any misunderstanding, up to the time when I was called upon to decide between the love of my Redeemer and my relations. Therefore, this sister was deemed a most proper person to be the bearer of the wishes of my family regarding me; they thought that I could not refuse her any request, and that 1 should yield to her tears and entreaties. The morning following the day that my eldest sister came, I received a visit from the youngest. She came in and looked at us most piteously, then sinking down on a seat, covered her face with her hands and sobbed convulsively, in a manner that would have been distressing even to a stranger; what then must it have been to a brother who had always shared her sorrows? We sat like so many statues. I now needed as much as ever the strength of an Almighty arm to lean upon — my natural feelings were overcome and had I conferred with flesh and bloody I should undoubtedly have yielded in this moment of trials but God was my stay.
Nearly an hour had elapsed before my poor sister could give utterance to a word. Vain would any attempt of mine be to describe her appeal to me. Ifc was delivered in broken sentences now gently reproving, now affectionately entreating; showers of tears continually preventing her speech. Oh, Henry,” she said, if any of that love remains which you have always shown to all your family, and particularly to me, you will now prove it by saving us from the disgrace and shame of one of our family abjuring the religion of his forefathers; you will assuredly break our hearts if you do not relent.”
I must here digress for a moment, to observe, that if a Jew has renounced his religion, and embraced Christianity or any other religion, if he recant, he may again be admitted to the privileges of his nation, by performing some penitential act or acts, imposed on him by the chief Kabbi, who is commonly, but erroneously, termed the High Priest. To that personage my dear sister urged me to have recourse, that, being by him absolved from the reproach I had brought upon myself, I might be received with open arms by my friends, and be more endeared to them than ever. Consider,” she continued, that either your wife and children will share your disgrace, or, being restored to us, they will share in the joy your return will occasion to us all.” She proceeded for a length of time in the same strain, but how shall I describe the inward-conflict in which I was now engaged or the struggle I had with my natural feelings?
My sister began to have hopes (judging by my silence) that she had gained her point, that her appeal to my affections had not been in vain: she was however greatly mistaken — I was silently praying to my God to give me the spirit of wisdom and of truth, as well as a door of utterance, that I might speak boldly in the name of the Lord Jesus. The Lord was with me, and his grace enabled me to rouse myself from my apparent lethargy, and fearlessly and unshrinkingly to witness a good confession. I assured my dear sister that however great my love might be to her, and to my parents, or to my wife and children, or any creature, the love I bore to my blessed Saviour was infinitely above all other considerations, and that all other love was as nothing, when we are assured of His love to us, His sovereign love, which is unmixed with human passions — in short, I told her that no earthly power or inducement could draw me away from God, my Saviour. Finding that her tears and entreaties had all been spent in vain, she arose to depart. Henceforth (said my sister) I shall abhor Christians, their very name will be odious to me.’ With an aching heart, and swollen eyes, she returned home to bear the sad tidings of the failure of her mission to the other members of the family, who were waiting her return in deep anxiety.
My two sisters next paid a visit to the Rev. Mr.. They accused him of being the chief instrument in leading me to Christianity. He assured them that he was not instrumental in any way in bringing me to the knowledge of Christ. He said, When I first saw your brother I found him a Christian already.’’ He then took the opportunity of briefly laying before them the truths of the gospel and although they were not able to controvert the proofs he gave them, yet, being so tenacious of their own preconceived notions, they expressed strong disapprobation of the step I had taken. Mr. offered to go to my parents, and endeavor to soothe their agitated minds, and reconcile them to the will of Providence; but his kind and well meant offers were peremptorily refused. Mr.
related to me the substance of his interview with my sisters, and told me how much pleased he was with their intelligent conversation, with the energetic manner with which they entreated him to restore me to them, and with their respectful behavior to him, although they were laboring under excited feelings.
Their next recourse was to try what my wife’s family could do. Accordingly we received a visit from her brothers. My wife’s family were always noted for the great unanimity existing amongst them. Her eldest brother began by asking her if she could reconcile her mind to live with an apostate. She assured them, that from all she observed, she was satisfied that I was seeking to walk in the paths of truth, and holiness, and added, I cannot dissuade him.’ I then thought it right to address a few words to him, in supjDort of the choice I had made. He would not allow me to proceed, but continued addressing my wife. My purpose in coming to you is this, if you will take your children away, and leave your husband, I will settle a sufficient annuity upon you to support you comfortably.’ Now as I have before stated, they always attacked me where they thought I was the weakest; and knowing my attachment to my wife and children they flattered themselves that I would rather yield to anything, than to a separation from them. Here again they were foiled. My wife replied, I am ready to share with my husband in all circumstances, whether of reproach, contempt, adversity, sorrow, or sickness, or in any other way in which it may please God to visit us.’ Then,’ said he, you are as deep in guilt as he is, and perhaj)s you are the worst of the two, for had you disapproved of his conduct, he would not, probably, have persevered in opposing your wishes, and rendering you unhappy and miserable.’ They went away dejected and sorrowful. We were wonderfully supported in those struggles, for however willing the spirit may be, the flesh is weak, and Ave must have sunk under the weight of these efforts, had not the Lord held us up, proving the truth of His own promise, that His grace was sufficient for us.
I had now a duty to perform, nor could I rest till it was performed; which was, to go and see my parents. We had not met for some time; and although I knew it would be a most painful intervioAV, yet to have omitted a visit to them at this particular time, would have amounted to a virtual admission that 1 acknowledged myself in error.
Thou, 0 Lord, art a shield for me, my glory and the lifter up of mine head.’ Never shall I forget the morning I went to my parents; it was the last time IsaAv them, and in all human probability Ave shall not meet again in this world. A servant admitted me, and I fancied I could read in her countenance that I was considered nn intruder. I felt much agitated as I entered the room where my parents were sitting at breakfast. As I approached them they averted their feces from me. I bade them good morning, and inquired after their health; a pause ensued, and for two or three minutes I received no reply. My father then raised his head from his hand, on which he had been leaning, and turning to me with a look of contempt and indignation, addressed me nearly as follows: How dare you have the temerity, sir, to enter the house of parents you have so grossly offended I said, In what have I so much grieved you He replied, By the abominable act you have committed; for ever separating yourself from your family and nation.”
attempted to speak about the Messiah, but he would not allow me to proceed. You have brought shame and reproach upon your father“s house.” I asked if we were not under the curse pronounced upon all who did not keep all the Commandments, and endeavored to show the difference of being under Grace and under the Law. My father said, H will not enter into any discussion with you: you were at liberty to maintain your own opinions, if you objected to the forms and services of our religion; but you had no occasion to make it publicly manifest that you disapproved of them. In your own house you could do as you j)leased, but in public you might have kept silence concerning anything you deemed objectionable in our institutions.” I replied that in doing so I should have been a decided hypocrite. My father said, You have connected yourself with hypocrites, and deceivers, and worshippers of devils, in preference to the worshippers of the true and only God.’” I was about to explain who and what we worshipped and how completely the Jews were in error in not worshipping the Triune God of the Christian whose existence was as manifest in the Old Testament Scriptures as in the New; but he would not suffer me to reply.
Go, he said and never dare to enter this house again unless you repent of this wicked deed and for ever renounce the society of idolaters. If you had committed any crime however heinous short of apostacy I could have forgiven you; but now I shall try to forget you. You are breaking the hearts of your parents but you will not go unpunished; for a time you will be a slave to these Christians and do just as they please; they will then despise you, and cast you off, leaving you to the remorse of your own conscience, and to the scorn and derision of Jews and Gentiles.” I said, did not expect that such would ever be the case.” He thereupon mentioned several cases which had come under his own observation, to bear him out in what he asserted. I said I did not fear what man could do to me, Tor God had promised He would not forsake those who put their trust in Him.”
He replied, The promises are not to you, for you have forsaken God.” My poor dear mother, with uplifted hand, and with her aged cheeks bedewed with tears, besought me to seek a reconciliation with God by taking penance, that is to say,- — to go to the chief Rabbi or High Priest, and express my contrition for the abominable sin I had committed in embracing Christianity; and state how desirous I was of returning to J udaism. He would then appoint certain acts of penance for me to perform and after the expiration of a few days, I should receive absolution, and he restored to the privileges of the Jewish religion, to the joy of all the people, more especially of my kindred, who considered a triumph would he thus obtained over the Gentiles.
This appeal from my dear mother afflicted me greatly — 0 could I have been spared this! — this was indeed as a thorn in the flesh — hut I felt assured that I was under the guidance of the Lord, and He was my strength and my stay. I therefore addressed my dear parents, and told them, how exceedingly pained I felt at being unintentionally the cause of so much grief and distress of mind to them, in consequence of their erroneous views of the late occurrence. I assured them that so far from my filial love and duty being diminished, it was continually increasing, for that I now felt greater interest than before in their spiritual welfare. I aj)- pealed to my former conduct whether I had ever offended them in word or deed. ^However,’ said I, you may contemn me, and cast me off, my constant petitions shall be offered up for your welfare; and be assured that, through the grace given unto me by the keeper of Israel, I will never do anything that shall bring shame or discredit upon myself, my relations, or my nation.’ — That is false,’ said my father, for you have done that already, by openly renouncing your God, and the God of your fathers; and now,’ he continued, I wish for no more arguments with you: you had better leave this house.’ I replied. As my presence appears to cause you so much uneasiness, I obey, and may the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, by His holy Spirit comfort you and guide you into all truth.’
And now by this dispensation of Providence my Saviour became more precious to me, for no one can sympathize with His people like J esus. My father and mother had forsaken me, but the Lord hath taken me up. What astonishing mercy! 0 may I be ever willing to suffer the loss of all things, so that I may win Christ!
I knew there was nothing now before me but affliction, poverty, distress, and persecution, but I likewise knew that God was able to supply all my need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus. We were considered as dead by both our families; and on such occasions the parents, brothers, and sisters of the deceased are compelled, according to the Rabbinical law, to sit for seven days on very low seats, to rend their garments, and to mourn for the departed soul. During that space of time they must not leave their houses, nor transact any business, and I believe their misguided zeal would (if they had possessed the power) have actually realized what was done in semblance, i, e. they would have buried me.”
Well, dear reader, for a man to confess under these circumstances is something; and if your heart glows at all within you, and you think, wish I had an opportunity of confessing my Lord,’’ you will be glad to see that the thing can be done, and that the opportunity lies almost at your very door. Where shall we go to look for a confessor’s sphere of action? It lies in society j in trade in politics, in the social circle, in expenditure, in pursuits, and in a word, everyiuhere. Some people think that a profession ought to be made in public, while there is no necessity for it at homo: while others say we ought to be religious at home but we need not be thrusting our religion upon people abroad: but the truth is the sphere of confession is so wide, that the sweep of its circle embraces abroad and at home — every place where there is a heart to feel a head to think, a tongue to speak, or an ear to hear.
I ask you, dear reader, an important question, when I say, are you known as a true Christian in the society in which you move — in all the society — not only in the good tea-party branch of it, but in all of it?
“Not long ago an officer was accosted by a brotherofficer thus — You’re the right kind of Christian, not bothering the people about their souls this way V The speaker himself made no pretensions to serious godliness; and the allusion was to certain officers who had a way of speaking out very intelligibly for Christ. Our friend had himself been converted; but, up to that time, he had been too timid to utter any articulate testimony. As his visitor left him that day, he began to reason with himself — Well, if that man thinks I am the right kind of Christian, it is time I was looking about me and considering my Avays.’ It was a some-Avhat novel point of departure; but, from that hour, our friend has been another man, boldly confessing Christ and laboring to win souls.’”
Are you the world’s right kind of a Christian, or God’s right kind? There is much religion to which the tea-pot is the river Eubicon; to get past it is an almost insuperable task; it may excite a smile, but it is nevertheless a sad and solemn truth, that in the deAul’s hand even a tea-pot may be made the means of leading a soul to hell. Look at this person at a religious tea-party, and at an ordinary dinner-party: is it the same person, or does he hold the same principles? Look at this young man as a member of a young men’s society, and is he just the same young man as a member of a rifle corps? We hear of all sorts of pocket things, and they are always considered handy — surely we may add to them a pocket religion, and of its exceeding handiness in some respects there can be no doubt. But a pocket religion will not always satisfy the conscience, as we can see from the following fact: — chaplain-general once related an incident of a young soldier who on one occasion had consulted him upon a question of Christian duty. Last night,’ said the young man, in my barrack, before going into bed, I knelt down and prayed in a low voice, when suddenly my comrades began to throw their boots at me, and raised a great laugh.’’*” ^Well,’ replied the chaplain,
* Another man, whom for three months we had been teaching to read, was sent by his employer to a job of work in the country; he told me on his return how difficult he had found it to try and keep up his reading, for his fellow workmen would knock the book out of his hand, besides using very coarse language, and when” I knelt to pray they pitched all sorts of things at me, and jeered and swore at me, (there were several men lodging in the same room) but I would not give it up, and after a time they let me alone, and I prayed for them. — “Life Work,” by L. N. R.
On the morning which succeeded the memorable night of Captain Iledley Yicars’ conversion, he bought a large Bible, and placed it open on the table in his sitting-room, determined that an “open Bible,” for the future should be his “colors.” “It was to speak for me,” he said, “before I was strong enough to speak for myself.” His friends came as usual to his rooms, and did not altogether fancy the new colors. One remarked that he had “turned Methodist,” and with a shrug, retreated. Another ventured on the bolder measure of warning him not to become a hypocrite: “Bad as you were, I never thought you but suppose you defer your prayer till you get into bed; and then silently lift up your heart to God?’
A week or two afterwards, the young soldier called again. Well, said the chaplain you took my advice I suppose? how has it answered?’ Sir, he answered, I did take your advice for one or two nights; but I began to think it looked rather like denying my Saviour; and I once more knelt at my bedside, and prayed in a low whisper as before.’ And what followed?’ ‘ Not one of them laughs now, sir; the whole fifteen kneel and l)ray too.’ ‘ I felt ashamed,’ added the chaplaingeneral, in narrating the story, of the advice I had given him; that young man was both wiser and bolder than myself.’”
The word society seems almost, in the public mind, to preclude the idea of religion; and yet, if a man have true religion at all, where does he leave it when he goes into society? how does he contrive to separate himself from it? on what ieg does he hang it? in what drawer does he stow it? in a word, where is it?
There are three great confessors spoken of in the Old Testament, and let us turn our attention to them for a few moments, for in this matter they can teach us much: yes! not only they, but their garments, and we must never be above learning from even the least of the circumstances or things by which God would teach.
would come to this, old fellow.” So, for the most part, for a time, his quarters were deserted by his late companions. During six or seven months he had to encounter no slight opposition at mess, and “had hard work,” as he said, “to stand his ground.” But the promise did not fail. — “The righteous shall hold on his way, and he that hath clean hands, shall wax stronger and stronger.” — “Memorials of Captain Hedley Yicars,” p. 33.
In revelation and in nature, God teaches us by little things; the sparrows are made the medium of instruction as to God’s providence over our life, and the grassblades arc our preachers to invite us to cast all our care on Him who careth for us, and not to wear ourselves out by anxiety about our daily need.
The three great confessors to whom we allude, are Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, and the circumstance to which we wish to draw particular attention is the fact, that they were bound in their coats, their hosen, and their hats, and their other garments, and so were cast into the burning fiery furnace.
Let such as think that confession is something special, something that must be prepared for by some special process, observe that these men had to give their testimony without any special preparation. They were probably engaged in their ordinary business when they were suddenly seized; and when sentence was pronounced against them, they were allowed no time for preparation to meet their God — none for prayer: the king’s commandment was urgent, — the executioners did not even take time to strip them of their clothes, but threw them into the burning fiery furnace just as they were — with their coats, their hosen, and their hats.
Far be it from us to say anything against special preparation, whether it be for meeting anticipated trial, or for doing anything that is difficult in our Christian course; it is excellent in its place, it is excellent when it can be practised. Would to God that we all knew more of special preparation than we do; that we chose our smooth stones from the brook before we hurled them from our sling; that we followed the example of Him who knelt in Gethsemane before he ascended Calvary; immense blessing and power would flow forth from such preparation; the seed thus steeped would surely sprout; but we must remember that there may be no opportunity for this preparation; there was none so far as we know, forShadrach, Meshach, and Abednego; what would have become of them if they had had to depend upon such preparation as they could have made upon the moment.^ it may be that life would have been more sweet to them than honor; that the image of Nebuchadnezzar would have received the worship due to the Most High; that they would have bowed the knee to the idol, instead of offering their bodies as a living sacriflce to God; and cornet, and flute, and harp, and sackbut, and psaltery, and dulcimer, and all kinds of music would have proclaimed, in their unhallowed strains, the disgrace of the cause of God, and the triumph of the image of gold.
Remember, dear reader, you may have no opportunity given you for preparation, in any of the trials which may be coming on you. You may find yourself suddenly in such a position that you must deny Christ, or suffer grievous loss; if you be in such a spiritual condition, so half made up in mind for God, that you absolutely require special preparation to enable you to meet special trial, then, should such special trial come on unawares you will be undone.
But it must not be supposed, that the three great confessors before us now, were men without preparation and training, albeit there was no special preparation for this their great testimony and confession before Nebuchadnezzar, and for facing these hideous flames, which darted like serpents’ tongues from the mouth of the burning fiery furnace heated seven times more than was its wont. As these men were ready to testify even unto death in the coat the hosen, and the hat; so in the coat the hosen and the hat, the habiliments of daily life had they been trained.
The account of this training we have in Dan. i., where we read of their refusing the daily provision of the king’s meat and the wine which the king drank; for three long years they saw others feasting on that which their own natural palate might have liked, but of which their consciences would not allow them to partake; they had only pulse when others had meat; they had only water, when others had wine. Thus, amid this world’s luxuries, they were kept separate for God; they were trained and prepared for their great confession, and for the trial of the furnace in a long process of daily life; their training was not in the garment of an anchorite, but in the coat, the hosen, and the hat. All God’s true people are being educated, and strengthened, and prepared in daily life. David was trained to fight Goliath by the previous conflict with the lion and the bear; and Moses was prepared to lead a host through the wilderness for God, by long solitude with Him in that wilderness itself; and Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were trained, by feeding the body upon pulse, to yield those bodies willingly to the fires. Each had a different way in which to glorify God, and each in God’s great school was fitted in a different way for his peculiar work. Let us recognise the variety of ways in which God’s people are called upon to give testimony for Him; let us also recognise the great variety of ways in which they are prepared for doing so.
Oh! may it not slip from our minds that in common places and common relationships and common garments, we are to confess our Lord. Let us give up that ideality in religion which would dissever it from the commonest of the common occupations of daily life. Let us not be afraid of vulgarizing our faith, because we have to stand up for it, and act it out in our coats, our hosen, and our hats. Some people worship God on Sunday, and profess Him on Sunday, in their Sunday clothes; with their Sunday clothes they put on their religion on Sunday morning, and with their Sunday clothes they put it off at night; but may every reader of this book witness in his week day clothes, in his coat, his hosen, and his hat, for these are what are worn six days out of seven, and these six days form the largest portion of the time for which we shall have to give an account to God. In thread-bare hose and fustian coats some of the noblest testimonies have been given for God; let us go and testify in the garments of daily life, as we are called to witness by our God. We each of us have marked out the way in which we are to testify for Him: your way, dear reader, may not be mine, and mine may not be yours; to one the sphere of testimony may be like David’s battle field; to another like the furnace heated one seven times more than was its wont; to another like the wilderness of Moses; but there lives not one who reads these lines, that is not called to witness in the ordinary garments of common life, even as David did, who, putting off the armor of Saul, met Goliath in the shepherd’s coat; and these three men, who, seized upon in the midst of their daily business, dared the vengeance of the king, and were cast into the midst of the burning fiery furnace bound in their coats, their hosen, and their hats.
And here let me observe, that there is as much diversity in the way in which men are trained, as in the fields in which that training is to come into practical exercise. God prepares and trains His people in common life. I must not say that such a one is not being trained, because the discipline is not the same as mine; nor must he say that I am not being trained, because my discipline is not the same as his. There are many different forms and books in the school of God; there is the training of the lion and the bear; the training of the wilderness; and the training of water and pulse. But however diverse the methods of God’s training may be, let us bear in mind that spiritual character must be acquired, and that unless we have a character out of which to act, we shall probably come woefully short when our trial time comes on. God’s people are often taken up very quick, just as they are; they must give their testimony in coats, and hosen, and hats; the very suddenness of their trial forms no inconsiderable element in it.
Might we not profitably ask ourselves, how do we stand in this matter this very day? Should we be called upon suddenly, are we prepared? Can we trace any discipline of God upon our souls which would produce fruit in our trial hour? The question is an important one, for, let us remember this, undisciplined souls are not likely to confess Christ on earth, or to be confessed by Christ in heaven. It may be that some are expecting time for preparation, and thinking that they will do very well if they have time given them for this; but as no time was given to Shadracb Meshach and Abednego, so may none be given to us; let us remember that these men were bound in their coats, their hosen, and their hats.
It is just possible that some reader may think that sublime truth cannot be witnessed to in ordinary life; that there must be a stage, with gorgeous scenery and wide expanse for its development, and that the actors upon this scene must be suitably attired.
It is a great snare of the devil, which, by such a thought, is spread before our feet; these men, whose case we are now considering, had in ordinary life to witness the sublimest truth. Taken before Nebuchadnezzar just as they were, they had to confront the idol, and the one by whose order it had been made, and declare that there was but the one true, and living, and everlasting God. The idol was made, no doubt, of gold — gold’’ — which is many a man’s god, even though it be in the rough, uncast into any idol form; it glittered in the eastern sun with dazzling light, and the music played to its honor, was in itself enough to drug the soul; but the living God had his shrine in these men’s hearts, and they were ready to confess their God, even amid heathenish music, and in the very presence of the heathen god.
Let us be assured, dear reader, that we, even as these men were, are often called upon to witness to the sublimest truths in the common habiliments of daily life. We make a great mistake if we connect the sublime and the uncommon together, as though anything to be noble and grand must of necessity be out of the way. The truly sublime is to be found in even the commonest walks of life and upon its flattest plains; there, no doubt, there is an abundance of what is base, but there also, there may be a sublime protest against what is base; it was in the flat plain of Dura that Nebuchadnezzar’s image was set up; it was there also that Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego refused to worship it, and nobly stood up for God.
Let me remind any of my readers, who are inclined to think it dull work, that they have only common truth to illustrate by their life, that it was only a common truth for which Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego stood up — but for which also they were ready to die. If any think that if they were arrayed in the panoply of a warrior they would fight for God; or if they were vested in the garb of a minister they could testify for God; let them remember that it was in their coats, their hosen, and their hats that Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego glorified their Lord.
Let us remember, that even the commonest truth of religion is sublime, and that the acting of it out is sublime also. God does not look for the chief confession of His name from beneath the cathedral’s fretted roof, but from the commonest paths and homes of life; not from surpliced ministers or chanting choirs, but from men in their coats, their hosen, and their hats. If the consciousness of the sublime will uphold us, let us remember that the commonest truths and acts of real religion are sublime in the eyes of God. Oh! that we could see things in the light in which God sees them, then we should perceive altars of service thick scattered over the earth, altars to be served by believers, who the apostle tells us are God’s priests; the fittest vestments for whose ministering would be the common vesture of their daily clothes. Sublimer deeds of heroism have been done in coat, and hosen, and hat, than in warrior’s mail; and the histories of heaven are fuller of what has been done in the common walks of life, than of what has been done in the battle field. Angels in white and in shining garments perform their ministry in the world invisible; but we, as ordinary men, must perform our ministry amid that which is seen. Our service by and bye will be in the shining garment, but now it must be in the hosen and the coat. The unideality and unsentimentality of the vesture may drive away from the service half-hearted men; but it was with three men who were thrown into the furnace thus arrayed, that there walked a fourth, and His form was like the Son of God.
And let us just bear this in mind before we turn from the consideration of these three confessors; thus bound in their common clothes these men were cast into the midst of the burning fiery furnace. Do we not catch the teaching in a moment; do we not perceive that as it is as ordinary men we must witness for God, so as ordinary men we must expect to take the consequences of our testimony, and suffer for God? There is no special garment for suffering in, any more than there is for confessing in. In our coat, our hosen, and our hat, we are within reach of the world’s bonds, and can be cast into its furnace; it is in our daily relationships, perhaps in our daily business, that it will try to do us hurt. If any of our readers think it hard, that they should have to suffer for their religion, even in the commonest little things of life, let them remember how Shadrach Meshach and Abednego suffered; let them look at how they were arrayed as they confessed before the king, aye, and at how they were arrayed as they walked triumphantly within the fires. No doubt the scene is one in which even angels might have gloried to take a part; but one descriptive touch shows us that these heroes were not angels but, even as we are, men;
then these men were bound in their coats, their hosen, and their hats, and their other garments, and were cast into the midst of the burning fiery furnace.’^
We shall be pardoned, we trust, by our readers, for dwelling at such length on this particular case, for the instruction which it affords is so entirely to the point.
Thus the confessors of Christ should be found in society; they ought to be found in trade also.
There is no doubt but that to confess Christ in trade, becomes daily a harder and harder task. Competition is exercising such a tremendous pressure, and as people say, cutting things so fine,’’ that in some instances it is cutting altogether too fine the distinction between right and wrong. It is better to make a little on good principles, than much on bad ones; plain fare and a good conscience will do us more good than a dainty morsel with a bad one.
And in speaking of this subject, we must not forget the position into which men are brought in their connection with others, as members of corporations, boards, committees, and so forth. There is an old saying that Corporations have no conscience and how often do we see this verified in practice. Men j9rofessing Christ, but not coTzfessing Him, will do things as members of boards, which they would utterly shrink from in their individual capacity; they contrive to lose themselves in the crowd, to dilute their responsibility with that of others; it was n’t they who did it — it was the board,” these things are decided by the majority,” and so forth. No doubt this latter statement is true, but was this professing Christian well out in the minority? if there were no one else to make a minority, did he make it? even if there were no one to second his resolution, did he propose it? amid j9rofessors, was he a co?^fessor, known and read of all men? If a man asks what will be the practical good of all this? the answer is, you deliver your own soul; when in the awful day of great account (that day when in strictest measure e.ach man’s share of responsibility will be meted out) this matter is inquired into, you will be found to have herein delivered your soul. If this be not a practical good, we do not know what is; but moreover, you may do more good than you think; you may raise thoughts in the hearts and consciences of others, the good result of which it is impossible to foresee. One thing, however, is certain; he who acts thus, confesses Christ before men; in confessing His principles we confess Himself.
The like may be said of politics. How many are there who are afraid to confess Christ on the hustings, or in the House /’ they are willing to make them-S3lves representatives of other people’s opinions instead of their own; they have many masters, and the fear of losing the favor of these many masters, makes them forgetful of the favor of that greater master than them all, even Jesus Christ.
And now let us leave all these wider spheres of confession, and come to the inner and narrower circle of our own families and homes. Ifc is by no means always easy to confess Christ in one’s own home. Sometimes a child of God has to contend with ungodly relatives always living with them; sometimes the mistress of a house is visited by worldly relatives or friends, who do not like religious ways, and perhaps there is the fear of offending some person, perhaps the dread of being pooh-poohed, sneered, or laughed at; and there is the temptation to change some of the religious ways of the house to suit Mr. or Mrs, Sir, and Lady, or Lord and Lady so-and-so. Now if all these important folk are gentlefolk, as we must presume them to be; let us remind our Christian householders that those who accept their hospitality will conform to the rules of their house. The writer well remembers a consultation which was held at an evening social meeting, as to whether the usual custom of having evening prayer could be adhered to because Sir, Bart., was present. This gentleman (long since dead) was well known to make very light of religion; what would he say if prayer were proposed? At length, with some hums and haughs, the baronet — mighty in his irreligion — was approached, and asked if he had any objection to evening prayer. Oh dear, no, not he — he had no objection; he should be most happy,” and he repeated the Lord’s prayer as loudly as any one, ending up with a sonorous Amen.” It is much to be feared that there was but little sincerity in the prayer, but one lesson was taught by the baronet, and learned, it is to be hoped, by some present, viz.: that some obstacles to confessing one’s Lord are imaginary, and that if men go forward boldly, they will find them melt away at their approach.
To this let me add a word from Fuller’s Good
Thoughts.”
A person of great quality was pleased to lodge a night in my house. I durst not invite him to my family prayer and therefore, for that time omitted it; thereby making a breach in a good custom, and giving Satan advantage to assault it; yea, the loosening of such a link might have endangered the scattering of the chain.
Bold bashfulness, which durst offend God, whilst it did fear man! Especially considering that, though my guest was never so high, yet, by the laws of hospitality, I was above him, whilst he was under my roof. Hereafter, whosoever cometh within the doors shall be requested to come within the discipline of my house; if accepting my homely diet, he will not refuse my homely devotion; and sitting at my table will be intreated to kneel down by it.”
Let such as are afraid of great men, be afraid of a still greater God. Thus was Hans Joachim Von Ziethen, one of Frederick the Great’s best generals, commonly known as Father Ziethen, or the Hussar King.
“Ziethen was never ashamed of his faith. On every occasion he openly professed it before high and low. Once he declined an invitation to come to the royal table, because on that day he wished to receive the sacrament. The next time he was at the 23alace, the king, whose infidel tendencies were well known, made use of some profane expressions about the Holy Communion, and the other guests laughed.
Ziethen shook his gray head solemnly, stood up, saluted the king, and said with a firm voice, Your Majesty knows well that in war I have never feared any danger, and everywhere have boldly risked my life for you and my country. I am still animated by the same spirit, and to-day, if it were necessary, and your Majesty commanded it, would lay my grey head at your feet. But there is one above us who is greater than you and I, greater than all men. He is the Saviour and Redeemer who has died also for your Majesty, and has dearly bought us all with His blood. This Holy One can I never allow to be mocked or insulted, for on Him, repose my faith, my comfort, and my hope, in life, and in death. In the power of this faith your brave army has courageously fought and conquered; if your Majesty undermines this faith, you undermine at th.e same time the welfare of the State. This is undoubtedly true. I salute your Majesty.“‘This open firm confession of the old general immediately silenced the scoffers, and made a powerful impression on the king. He felt he had been in the wrong, and was not ashamed to acknowledge it; he gave Ziethen his hand, placing his left on the old man’s shoulder, and said with emotion, Oh, happy Zeithen, hov7 I wish that I could also believe it. I have the greatest respect for your religion, hold it fast. This shall never happen again.” The king rose from the table, dismissed his other guests, but said to Zeithen, Come with me into my cabinet.’ What passed there no one has ever learnt.’
Is Christ confessed when those who habitually attend an evening service on the Lord’s day, give it up, because they have some careless or ungodly person dining with them? Is He confessed when masters and mistresses, for their own selfish purposes, give their servants Sunday work which keeps them from the house of God, even though they themselves are particular not to be absent? Is He confessed when most of the year’s income is spent on self, and God’s tenth” is left ungiven? On looking over domestic account hooks, I find columns for almost every imaginable class of things, some curious minutim even find place there; pepper and salt, and little condiments, can all he set down in their proper place, but I have never seen one yet which had a column ruled for ^charity;’ so that even if one had got so far as to tithe the mint, anise, and cummin, one would not know where to put it down. Publishers are always glad of something new; and it is well known that it is often harder to find a good name for a book, than to write the book itself; it will be a decided novelty to produce an account book with a column for charity,” and by all means let it be called The Christian Housekeeper’s Account Book.” Yes! Christian reader, ask yourself the question. Is Christ confessed in my expenditure? He may be professed in your guinea for pew rent, but is He co7^fessed in the proportion which, what you give to Him, bears either to your expenditure or your income? But you say, this is a very private confession; this has nothing to say to confessing Jesus ‘before men. Ah! it has more than at first sight appears; the introduction of this one word charity,’ and its corresponding column into the account book, would make quite a revolution in all the columns of that book, and would bring many a one in a different aspect before the world. For, if Christ had His Own, there would not perhaps be so much left for a brave display of dress; or for entertainments, and such like; it may be that one horse must be kept instead of two, or perhaps not a horse at all; it may be that a smaller house and establishment generally must be made to do; and are there not many who could not bear thus, as they think, to come down in the eyes of the world? and so their lack of confession of Christ at home, robs them of the power of confessing Christ abroad.
But w’-e need not dwell longer here; all spheres afford their opportunity for confession; the question hereafter will not be as to the size of our various spheres, but as to the way in which we filled them.
Let us now turn to some of the characteristics of this confession. Are we called upon always to confess in precisely the same way? Certainly not. Just as our Lord acted differently at different times, so must we. We must deal with matters as they arise; we need not go out of our way to make opportunities of confession, they will spring up of their own accord; to fill worthily the sphere presented to us will always give us as much as we can do. We may expect to find blessing and help in the spheres of Gods appointing; we cannot be so sure of this in the spheres which we make for ourselves. And here let us carefully bear in mind, that the kind of confession which we make, must not of necessity be always the same. There are times when we must speak out openly. There are times when we must testify by silence — a silence unmistakeable, a silence ominous, a silence with a peculiar voice of its own. CeciFs advice to Mr. Hawkes was this, Be careful in your commerce with the world, to act up to the character you profess. Do not put on a Pharisaical manner of Stand by, I am holier than thou yet let it appear, that while you are under the necessity of hearing their vain conversation, you have no taste for it, no delight or interest in it; a humble kind of silence often utters much/”
There is a very interesting instance of this in the Life of Madame Guyon.“”
There was a certain learned lady, who was very fond of talking, and who had read the writings of the Christian Fathers. Madame Guyon was in company with her and another lady; and these two latter had much conversation with each other in relation to God. The learned lady,” says Madame Guyon, as might be expected, talked very learnedly of Him. I must confess, that this sort of merely intellectual and speculative conversation, in relation to the Supreme Being, was not much to my taste. I scarcely said anything! my mind being drawn inwardly to silent and inward communion with the great and good Being, about whom my friends were speculating. They, at length, left me. The next day, the lady with whom I had jii’eviously had some conversation came to see me. The Lord had touched her heart; she came as a penitent, as a seeker after religion; she could hold out in her opposition no longer. But I at once attributed this remarkable and sudden change, as I did not converse with her the day previous, to the conversation of our learned and speculative acquaintance. But she assured me it was otherwise. She said it was not the other’s conversation which had affected her, but mj silence; adding the remark that my silence had something in it which penetrated to the bottom of her soul, and that she could not relish the other“s discourse. After that time we spoke to each other with open hearts on the great subject.” “”
But a greater than any merely human being meets us here; our blessed Lord Himself knew the power of silence in testimony, and He used it too. After he had uttered the searching sentence, He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her. He stooped down again, and wrote upon the ground John viii. 8. And the accusers of the woman could not stand that silence: no sound broke in upon the workings of their consciences; they went out one by one, beginning at the eldest, even unto the last, and Jesus was left alone, and the woman standing in the midst verse 9. What that silence did for the woman also, eternity alone will tell; it may be that then the first seeds of eternal life dropped into her sin-stained soul.
Again, we meet with this power of silence before Pilate. And when He was accused of the chief priests and elders. He answered nothing. Then said Pilate unto Him, hearest Thou not how many things they witness against Thee? And He answered him to never a word, insomuch that the governor marvelled greatly Matt, xxvii. 12-14.
Our common proverb says, Silence gives consent and so no doubt it does in many cases; but the silence of the confessor is an unmistakeable one; and if it be a right kind of silence every one present can read it in his face. Yes! the confession of the countenance is no mean confession of the Lord, and it is often one which has no mean eflect; many a time it has thrown a damper upon ungodly mirth; many a time has it continued during a dinner party, or for an evening, a protest against what was going on; many a time has it raised thoughts in the hearts of those who felt it — who heard it — for after all silence lias a voice which speaks to the inner depths of the soul, and leaves an unmistakeahle impress there.
Reader, beware of a sheltering silence; be prepared, when that is the kind of testimony required from you, to give a confessing silence. Be assured that you will not lose anything, but on the other hand gain much by it; you must not give the world the opportunity of mistaking you. I have already,“’ says Mrs. Hawkes, “experienced great advantage from endeavoring to follow my wise counsellor (Mr. Cecil) in avoiding, not only a too great degree of pliableness of temper, but also a mean, sneaking, irresolute, shame-faced behavior among worldly people. I find by experience that they soon discover when the mind is made up; and on making this discovery, cease to persuade you to join with them in their pursuits, while you secretly respect the consistent character. I perceive this strongly in the remarks made upon certain persons.”
But should we be called upon to speak out, as indeed in most cases we are, let us neither be ashamed nor afraid so to do.’**’ Let us remember the conduct of Peter
* The following instance of speaking out, is from a sketch of the life of Scott, the commentator: — “I had frequent invitations to dinner parties, but I seldom returned home without dissatisfaction, and even remorse of conscience. One Queen’s birthday I met at the house of an opulent tradesman a large party, among whom were several other ministers. The dinner was exceedingly splendid and luxurious, including every delicacy in season. In the evening a question wus proposed on the principal dangers to which evangelical religion was exposed; and being called on to speak, I ventured to say that conformity to the world w’as the grand danger of all. One thing led to another, and the luxurious dinner did not pass unnoticed. Perhaps I was too pointed, and strong expressions of disapprobation were used at and John before the high priest and his kindred in Jerusalem who when they were called and commanded not to speak at all nor teach in the name of Jesns gave this answer, Whether it be right in the sight of God to hearken unto you more than unto God, judge ye, for we cannot but speak the things which we have seen and heard Acts iv. 19, 20.
There are times when it is quite impossible for us to keep silence, and yet retain our distinctive character of confessors of our Lord. On such occasions let us make our confession with meekness but with boldness, with gentleness but with decision, with no accompaniment calculated to irritate the man, though with precision enough to rebuke his sin. And we shall be more successful than we at first, perhaps, suppose; and not only so, but we shall escape with, perhaps, less personal insult than we had reason to expect.
It is related by Dr. Scudder, that, on his return from his mission in India, after a long absence, he was standing on the deck of a steamer with his son, a youth, when he heard a gentleman using loud and profane language. See, friend,’” said the doctor, accosting the swearer, this boy, my son, was born and brought up in a heathen country, and a land of pagan idolatry, but in all his life he never heard a man blaspheme his Maker until now.” The man colored, blurted out an apology, and looked not a little ashamed of himself.
the time, but I went home rejoicing in the testimony of my conscience. The gentleman never invited me again but once, and then our dinner was a piece of boiled beef. He was, I believe, a truly pious man, but misled by bad examples. He continued to act towards me in a friendly manner, and left me a small legacy at his death.”
And now let ns change the scene, and we have a poor man, both faithful and prosperous in his confession.
A merchant and shipowner stood at the entrance of his store conversing with a gentleman on business. A good old sailor belonging to one of his vessels approached the store with the intention of entering it, but observing that the door was occupied, modestly stepped aside, not willing to interrupt the conversation. As he stood, waiting patiently an opportunity to pass, he overheard some allusions made to Christ, and turning to look, he perceived that it was his employer who was speaking. Instantly he changed his position, and stood in front of the gentleman with his head uncovered and his hat under his arm, and addressed his employer in the following language, Sir, will you forgive me if I speak a word to you?” The gentleman, recognising in the sailor one of the crew of the vessel recently arrived, and supposing he might have something to communicate affecting his interest, kindly encouraged him to speak. Without further hesitation, the sailor proceeded, — ‘ Wou won’t be offended, then, sir, with a poor ignorant sailor if he tells you his feelings The gentleman again assured him that he had nothing to fear. Well, then, sir,” said the honest-hearted sailor with emotion, will you be so kind as not to take the name of my blessed Jesus in vain? He is a good Saviour; He took my feet from the horrible pit, and the miry clay, and established my goings. Oh, sir, don’t, if you please, take the name of my Jesus in vain! He never did any one harm and is always doing poor sinners good.” The rebuke was not lost upon him for whom it was intended, a tear suffused his eye, and he replied to his urgent request.
My good fellow, God helping me, I will never again take the name of our Saviour in vain.’” Thank you, sir,” said the faithful witness for Christ, and putting on his hat, he hastened off to his work.
Sometimes weak woman have to be confessors; and they are matched against those who in mere argument are able to overcome them; but God can give them suitable words, if only they be faithful to Him. He who can give his people words before magistrates and rulers, can give them words also before their fellow men in society, or in whatever position they are called upon to confess.
A lady once thus completely shut up a pretended freethinker, who had been repeating a number of absurdities to prove that men had no souls. The company seemed contented with staring at him, instead of replying. He addressed this lady, and asked her with an air of triumph, what she thought of his philosophy.
It appears to me, sir,” she replied, that you have been employing a good deal of talent to prove yourself a beast.”
And for the encouragement of female confessors, we may add another instance of successful interference for Christ.
A few years ago, a young naval officer who was passing in the cars from Newark to York, constantly introduced the most profane oaths into his conversation. His shocking profanity greatly annoyed a young lady who sat near him. At last, turning to him, she said.
Sir, can you converse in Hebrew?” Yes,” was his reply, in a slightly sneering tone. “Then,” said she,” if you wish to swear any more, you would greatly oblige me and probably the rest of the passengers if you would do it in Hebrew,“” The young of3ficer”s color came and went. He looked at the young lady then at his boots then at the ceiling of the cars but he did not swear any more, either in Hebrew or English.
God often chooses the foolish things of this world to confound the wise, and He chooses the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty, and things which are not to bring to nought things which are, (1 Cor. i. 27.) But we must be prepared for suffering in some form, if we take up a position in the ranks of the noble army of confessors. Ours may not be the martyrdom of the body, but we may have to under - go the martyrdom of the mind. There are writhing feelings as well as writhing limbs, — quivering nerves of the mind as well as of the body, — emptyings and desolations of the heart within, as well as of the home without. St. Paul suffered the loss of all things, yet did he count them but dung so that he might win Christ. We marshal in the rank of the noble army of martyrs, only those who have actually shed their life-blood for the Lord; Ave associate their name with deeds of violence, with the halter, the faggot, and the Sword, but it may be, that God will number in that glorious host many whom Ave think of as only confessors, but who, if the truth were known, lost their lives for Christ. Yes! unkind words and looks long protracted cut into their soul; petty persecutions at length wore them out; their blood was not spilled upon the earth, but it curdled in their veins, until at last its crimson tide ceased to flow; the heart stood still; the victim was AA-orn out, and died. J ust as they who have been worn out in the privations of a campaign die as truly a soldier’s death as they who fall by the bullet or the sword so these who are worn out by long continued endurance of despitefulness for Christy are as truly martyrs as if they bled upon the block or burned at the stake; they burned with a slow fire at a stake which no man saw; they bled beneath an axe with which no headsman struck; they surely have come out of great tribulation and their proper place shall be assigned them by the One they so nobly served.
Let me give two instances of stout confession of the Lord Jesus Christ, one from private life, where the confession involved the secret martyrdom; and the other from more public life, for its scene was the great Indian mutiny, and so far as the religious history of that great catastrophe is concerned, there are few names more memorable than those of which we are about to speak. Let us first retire into the privacy of home.
“Now, girls, I have got news for you!”
The speaker was a showy girl, dressed in the height of fashion. She was just entering the room where sat several young ladies her cousins, pursuing various household employments.
“What is it, Ada?” cried one and another.
“You’ll never believe it; Lizzy Ashbrook has professed religion!” was the half serious, half laughing reply.
“Lizzy Ashbrook!” The girls repeated the name, more or less in surprise.
“Lizzy Ashbrook,” said the elder cousin, Julia, seriously; “why 1 she was for ever making sport of the subject.”
“And such a fashionable girl; why, she would hardly look at a person who was ill dressed:” remarked another.
“Her father, an infidel of the rankest sort, too, what will he say?”
“I heard that he had turned her out of the house,” said Ada.
There was a long silence.
“Well,” — it was abruptly broken by the youngest of the family, — “we shall see now if there is the reality in religion that Christians talk about. I don’t believe there is a single person in any branch of her family who is religious. She will have unusual trials to undergo; I wouldn’t be in her place.”
“Trials! phsaw! there’s no such thing as persecution in these days; it would be a rare thing to see a martyr!” This was lightly spoken by Ada, who had been Lizzie’s nearest friend, and who felt an unusual bitterness springing up in her heart towards the young girl, who she knew could no longer enjoy her companionship as of yore.
The cousins made an early call on Lizzie, who received them with her accustomed grace, and a sweeter smile than usual. Yet she was pale, and though there was a purer, a holier expression on her beautiful face, yet she appeared like one w’earied a little with some external struggle, in which she was the sufferer. Although she did not speak directly of the new vows she had taken upon her, the new peace she had found, her visitors could see clearly and distinctly the wondrous change in dress, in manner, and even in countenance.
Lizzie was engaged in marriage to a thorough-bred man of the world. George Philips loved his wine, his parties, the race course, the theatre, the convivial and free and easy club. The Sabbath was his day of pleasure, and many a time had Lizzie graced his elegant equipage, radiant in beauty, on the holy day, as they swept off to the haunts of the gay — to some hotel — or some meeting of kindred spirits. He bore a dashing exterioi*, was intellectual — a sparkling wit, courted, caressed, admired everywhere.
His brow darkened as he heard the news. What! the girl of bis choice, the woman he would place at the head of his brilliant household become a canting Christian! Nonsense! he didn’t believe it; he would see for himself. He didn’t furnish his parlors for prayer-meetings. He wanted no long-faced ministers to visit his wife, not he. It was a ridiculous hoax. It must have originated in the club-room. What! the daughter of Harlan Ashbrook, the freest of free thinkers? ‘Ha! ha! a capital joke — a very clever joke — nothino’ more.”
He called upon her not long after the visit before mentioned. His cold eye scanned her from head to foot; but how sweetly, how gently, she met him 1 Surely the voice that was melting music before, was heavenly in its tones now. All the winning grace was there; all the high-bred ease; the merry smile dimpled her lips; but there was a something that thrilled him from head to foot with apprehension, because it was unlike her usual self. What could it be?
At length, lightly, laughingly, he referred to the report he had heard. For one moment the frame trembled, the lips refused to speak; but this passed; and something like a flush crossed her beautiful face, it lighted the eyes anew, it touched the cheek with a richer crimson, as she said,
“George, please don’t treat it as a jest, for truly, thank God! I have become a Christian! O George!” — her clasped hands were laid upon one of his — “I have only just begun to live! If you kneAV”
The proud man sprang to his feet, almost throwing her hands from him in his impatient movement; and not daring to trust his voice, for an oath was uppermost, he walked back and forth for a moment. Then he came and stood before her. His forehead was purpled with the veins that passion swelled, his face was white, and his voice unsteady, as he exclaimed: —
“Do you mean to say that y011 will really cast your lot among these people, that for them you will give up all — aiir
“I will give up all for Christ!” The words were very soft and low, and not spoken without reflection.
For one moment he locked his lips together, till they looked like steel in their rigidity; then he said, in a full passionate voice: —
“Lizzie — Miss Ashbrook — if these are your sentiments, these your intentions, we muat go different ways.”
This was very cruel — this was a terrible test; for that young girl had, as it were, placed her soul in his keeping. Before a higher, a purer love was born in her heart, she had made up her human love — an absolute idolatry; and the thought of losing him, even now, caused her cheek to grow ashen and her eyes dim.
As he saw this, his manner changed to entreaty. He placed before her the position he would give her; lured her by every argument that might appeal to the womanly heart. And he knew how to win by entreaty, by the sublest casuistry. His was a masterly eloquence. He could adapt his voice, his language, his very looks, with the most adroit cunning, to the subject and object of his discussion. More than once the gentle spirit of the young Christian felt that she must give way — that only help direct from the fountain of life could sustain her with firmness to resist him to the end of the interview!”
At last it was a final — “All this will I give you, if yon will fall down and worship me!” It came to this — “Christ or me!” There could be no compromise, it was — “Christ or me.” And standing there, clothed with the mantle of a new and heavenly faith, with its light shining in her heart, and playing over her pale features, she said, with atiniiness worthy the martyrs of old, — “Christ!”
Though his soul was filled with rage so that he could have gnashed his teeth, the slight figure standing there in its pure white robes against the background of crimson hangings, — the eye that cast an earnest, upward glance, — the brow that seemed to have grown white with spirit-light, — the attitude, so self-possessed yet so modest, so quiet yet so eloquent, filled him with a strange admiring awe. But the hostility towards religion was so strong in his heart, that it bore down all his tenderness, almost crushed his love, and he parted from her for the last time coldly, and like a stranger.
The engagement was broken off; but who can tell the struggles it cost?
This was but the first trial: there came another, while yefc the blow lay heavy on her heart.
Her father had never been very loving towards her. He was proud of her; she was the brightest gem of his splendid home. She was beautiful, and gratified his vanity; she was intellectual, and he heard praise lavished upon her mind, her person, with a miser’s greedy ear, for she was his — a part of himself; she belonged to him.
He called her into his study and required a minute account of the whole matter. He had heard rumors, ho said; had seen a surprising and not agreeable change in her; she had grown mopish, quiet. What was the cause? It was a great trial, with that stern, unbelieving face, full of hard lines, opposite, to stand and testify for Christ! But He who has promised, was with her, and she told the story calmly, resolutely.
“And do you intend to join the church?”
“Yes, sir.” A gleam of hope entered her heart; she did not expect his approval, but she could not think he might refuse to sanction this important step.
“You know your Aunt Eunice kas long wanted you to become an inmate of her borne.”
“Yes, sir;” the gentle voice faltered.
“Well, you can go now. Unless you give up this absurd idea, and trample it under your feet, I do not wish you to remain with me. Be as you were before, and you shall want for no luxury, no affcctioii; follow this miserable notion, and henceforth I am only your father in name.”
She did forsake all for Him; but her step became slow, her form wasted, her eye hollow, her cheek sunken. The struggle had been too much for a frame unable to cope with any overwhelming sorrow. Her j)astor, as he marked the brilliant hectic and the trembling frame, thought of the graveyard and the mould, — she thought only of the glorious immortality beyond. Swiftly she went down into the valley, but it was not dark to her. Too late the man who had so ‘sorely tempted her, knelt by the side of her bed and implored her forgiveness. Too late? No, not too. late for his own salvation, for in that hour his eyes were opened to the sinfulness of his life, and by her dying pillow he promised solemnly to give his heart to God. Her father, too, proud infidel though he was, looked on his wasted child, triumphing over death, with wonder and with awe. Such a dying scene it is the privilege of but few to witness; she had given up all absolutely all for Christ, and in the last hour she, like Stephen, saw heaven opened. Her face was angelic, her language rapture, her chamber the gate of heaven. And like one who, but the other day, untied the sandals of life and moved calmly and trustingly down the one step between earth and heaven, so she said, with a smile inexpressibly sweet, — “Sing!”
And they sang, —
Rock of ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee;
Let the water and the blood
From Thy wounded side which flowed
Be of sin the double cure,
Save me from its guilt and power.
Not the labor of my hands,
Can fulfill Thy law’s demands,
Could my zeal no respite know,
Could my tears for ever flow.
All for sin could not atone,
Thou must save, and Thou alone.
Nothing in my hand I bring.
Simply to Thy cross I cling;
Naked, come to Thee for dress.
Guilty, plead Thy righteousness;
Vile, I to the fountain fly.
Wash me, Saviour, or I die!
While I draw this fleeting breath,
When my eyelids close in death.
When I rise to worlds unknown.
See Thee on Thy judgment throne,
Rock of ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee!
At its close they heard one word — the last. It was —
“Christ.”
And now let us change the scene and behold a confessor, yes, many confessors, witnessing for Christ and confessing Him at the peril of immediate death.
“The Rev. Gopenath Nundy, a native missionary of the American Presbyterian Board, was stationed at Futtehpur, where he had been a faithful laborer for several years. When the insurrection broke out, he and his family escaped without much difficulty to Allahabad. Finding the fort much crowded with European families, and thinking that, as a native, ho could make his way in comparative safety, he set out, with his wife and two children, for Mirzapur. They had not gone far before they fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped off their clothing, and otherwise cruelly treated them. With difficulty they returned to Allahabad. Of their subsequent sufferings he has drawn up the following narrative, which we have taken from the pages of the Foreign Missionary,’ for November, 1857.
We inquired from our host about the fort, and the fate of the Europeans who were in it. The poor man, as far as his knowledge extended, said the fort was taken by the mutineers, and its inmates murdered. This sad news, at this critical time, grieved us greatly, and brought us to utter despair. Our host, seeing us in such a state, said that a moulwi had come from Kurria with some men, to shelter and help the distressed and afflicted, without any distinction of creed or color. This was rather cheering news, and we made up our minds to go to him. About sunset Ave directed our course towards that side, and when Ave came near the police station-house, we found out that he was hostile to the English; and all the Christians, whether European or native, brought before him were massacred. This greatly alarmed us, but to turn our course in any other direction then was utterly impossible, as Ave were surrounded by thousands of infuriated Mussulmans; so Ave made up our minds to go to the moulAAU, and throw ourselves on his mercy, to do with us as it pleased him, either to kill or spare our lives. Accordingly Ave went to him, but, before reaching his place our lives Avero often in jeopardy by those who surrounded us, for they wanted to kill us, but Ave besought them not to do so until we had an interview with their head, the moulwi. They accordingly brought us to him. We found him seated on a chair attended by a number of men with drawn swords and he put the following questions to us, viz.: — Who are you A Christian.’ What jdace do you come from?’ ^Futtehpur.’ What was your occupation?’ Preaching and teaching the Christian religion.’ Are you a Padre?’ Yes, sir.’ Was it not you who used to go about reading, and distributing tracts in the streets and villages Yes, sir, it was I and my catechists.’ How ‘many Christians have you made?’ I did not make any Christians, for no human being can change the heart of another; but God, through my instrumentality, brought to the belief of His true religion about a couple of dozen.’ To this the man exclaimed in a great rage, and said, Tobah! tobah! (fy! fy!) such a downright blasphemy! God never makes a person a Christian, but you Kafirs — Infidels — pervert the people. He always makes Mohammedans, for the religion which they follow is the only true one. How many Mohammedans have you perverted to your religion I have not perverted any one, but, by the grace of God, ten were turned from darkness into the glorious light of the gospel.’ Hearing this, the man’s countenance became as red as hot iron, and he said, You are a great haramzuda (a wicked rogue). You renounced your forefather’s faith and became a child of Shoytan (Satan), and now use every effort to bring others in the same road to destruction. You deserve a cruel death: your nose, ears, and hands should be cut off at different times, so as to make your sufferings continue for some time, and your children be ke]3t in slavery.” To this, Mrs. Nundy said to the moulwi, You will confer a very great favor by ordering to kill us all at once, and not torture us.” After having kept silent for a while, he exclaimed, Soovan Allah! (Praise be to God!) You appear to be a respectable man: I pity you and your family. I, as a friend, advise you to be Mohammedans: by doing so you will not only save your lives, but will be raised to a high rank.” My answer to this was, that we preferred death to any inducement he could hold out. Then the man made an appeal to my wife, and asked her what she meant to do. Thank God, her answer was as firm as mine. She said she was ready to sacrifice her life in preference to any inducement he held out as to the renouncement of the true religion of J esus. The moulwi then asked if
I had read the Koran. My answer was Yes.” He then said I could not have read it with a view to be profited by it, but simply picked passages to argue with Mohammedans. However, he said he would allow us three days” time to think over the matter, and then he would send for us, and read a portion of the Koran: if we believed, and became Mohammedans, all right and good, but if otherwise, our noses were to be cut off. We further said there was no occasion to wait till that time: as long as God continues His grace we will not renounce our faith; so he had better at once order our heads to be taken off. He then pointed to his people to take us to prison. It was a part of the Sarie where travelers put up, guarded by his men, with drawn swords, not very far from him.
While on the way to the prison, I raised my heart in praise and adoration to the Lord Jesus for giving us grace to stand firm and to overcome all the temptations which the moulwi held forth; and while repeating the 11th and 12th verses of the 5th chapter of St. Matthew I thanked Him for counting us worthy to suffer for His name’s sake. When we reached the place of our imprisonment we found two other Christian families, one native and the other European; the former from Mr. Hay’s printing establishment, and the latter, Mr. Conductor Colman, his wife, and five children. We felt extremely sorry, seeing them thrown in the same difficulty as ourselves. After conversing and relating each other’s distress, I asked them to join with us in prayer, to which they all of them readily agreed; and when we knelt down, one of the guards came and gave a kick on my back, ordering me to keep quiet, or pray according to Mahommedan form. Our lips were truly closed, hut our hearts were in communion with Him who required the emotions of our hearts more than the utterances of our lips. Next day. Ensign Cheek, an officer of the late 6th Native Infantry, was brought in: he made his escape when his regiment rebelled, and his bearer took him on the other side of the river Ganges. There he was attacked by a Jemadar, and some other people, who wounded him most cruelly. He made his escape from their wicked hands, and hid himself for three days. At nights he used to hide himself in a tree, and, during the day, he kept himself under water with his face above the water. At last, when he was exhausted, and could not keep himself hidden any longer, he was brought, with severe and putrid sores, to the moulwi as a prisoner, who sent him where we were.
His sufferings were excessively great and severe: he was unable to sit up or lie down on the bare ground, which we all had to do; but a prisoner, and hated the most, yet felt it my duty to do what I could to relieve the agonies of poor Cheek. I went up to the Daroga (jailor), and begged him hard to allow him a charpoy (coarse bedstead). The hard-hearted jailor condescended to grant my petition with the greatest reluctance, and though he gave a charpoy, yet it was a broken one, for their object was to see how much we could suffer. He was in a state of fainting, and evidently sinking, as he had had no food for three days and nights. We had a little chert too and gur, which we brought with us before coming to the prison, and which I turned with a little water into a kind of gruel, and gave it to him. Taking this, and drinking a full mud-pot of water, he felt greatly refreshed, and opened his eyes. Finding me a fellow-prisoner, and a missionary, he opened his heart at once to me, and told the history of his sufferings: he also requested me to write to his mother in England, and aunt, which I intend to do as soon as I can spare time. The wicked Daroga, finding that I was attentive and kind to poor Cheek, ordered my feet to be fastened to the stocks, after which they removed me into a different place, thus causing a separation, not only from Ensign Cheek, but from my ]30or family. To this I made a great resistance, and a body of the rebels fell upon us with weapons, and forced my feet into the stocks, at the same time holding out the offer of pardon if I became a Mohammedan. They dragged my poor wife by the hair, and she received a severe wound on the forehead. While they were maltreating us so cruelly poor Cheek cheered our spirits by saying, Padre, Padre, be firm, be firm, do not give way.’ His meaning was, do not become Mohammedans.
At this time the danger of our lives was most imminent, and the temptation was strongest, but the Lord delivered us from their wretched designs, and rescued us from the snares of Satan. To aggravate my sufferings, they put me out with the stocks in the hot burning sun. But notwithstanding all the exposure to the sun, and hot winds, and privations, our gracious heavenly Father did not permit the disease in my head to be increased, but it remained as it was before.
We were in the prison from Wednesday the 10th to Tuesday the 16th. All this time our sufferings were great indeed, for, for our food we received only a handful of parched grain in the middle of the day, and at night a single cliapaty (a cake made of coarse flour, about three ounces in weight). Water was supplied only twice daily, and that sparingly. Every five minutes the Mohammedans used to come and threaten to take our lives if we did not become Mussulmans. Once an ill-educated moulwi came with a portion of the Koran, and read a part from it. When I asked the meaning thereof, he could not give it, as he himself was ignorant of it. To this I answered, How can you expect to make proselytes of others, when you yourself do not understand what you read?’
Instead of the moulwi sending for us on the third day, as he arranged at first, he came himself on the sixth day, and drawing near to us, he inquired of the Darago where the Padre prisoner was; and when I was pointed out, he asked me if I were comfortable. My answer was, How can I be comfortable when my feet are in the stocks? but I take it patiently, as it is the will of our Heavenly Father.’ I then begged of him to order a little milk to be given to our baby, which was in a state of starvation. He reluctantly gave the order, which was never executed.
The moulwi left nothing untried to make us converts to his faith. He made our sufferings of the worst kind, threatening to take our lives every moment; and yet why he spared us I cannot tell. It was, I believe, that he thought it would promote his glory, and that of his religion, by making us converts and preachers of the same, more than by killing us, who are but natives like himself. Whatever it was, this much I know, that the finger of God directed the whole course. He sent these dangers and difficulties no doubt to try our faith, and gave us grace sufficient to make a full confession of it before the world. The saving of our lives was a miracle, for they were no less exposed than that of Daniel of old. Thanks be to the all-protecting hand of God!
On the sixth day of our imprisonment, that is, on the 15th of June, Captain Brazier came out with some European and Sikh soldiers to meet the enemy: he had a regular fight not very far from the place where we were confined, and totally defeated them.
The next morning, about three A. M., the enemy retreated, and forsook Allahabad, leaving us prisoners. When Ave saw that they Ava’e all gone, Ave broke the stocks, and came into the fort, where our Missionary brethren, Messrs. Owen and Munnis, rejoiced and welcorned us in their quarters. They all heard that we had been killed by the mutineers.’^’
To the above we may add the instance of the stout squire, Peter Paasch, although we cannot of course approve of his striking the Turk.
In the year lll7, there was a great war between the Germans and the Turks. The good and brave Marshal, Prince Eugene, won many glorious victories over the infidels, and so great was the patriotic spirit excited all over Germany, that nearly every village sent a contingent to aid the Emperor’s army against the unbelieving foe. From the village of Ilermannsburg rode forth the bravo knight, Staffhorst, vrith his two squires, Peter Paasch and Hans Pufiel. In the great battle near Belgrade, in which the Germans were victorious, Puffel was killed, as he was rescuing his hardly-pressed master from the hands of the Turks. Staffhorst fell at the subsequent storming of Belgrade, after he had forced his way into the city. Peter Paasch, full of grief at the death of his beloved master, pursued the flying Turks so rashly, that he was surrounded by the fugitives outside the walls and taken prisoner. They tied him to his horse’s tail, a Turk mounted the horse, and Paasch was obliged to run by the side, naked and barefoot, for the Turks had robbed him of everything. Late in the evening they halted in the wood where they thought they wore safe from the Christians, and now they determined to take their long desired revenge on the Christian prisoner, for they had remarked how many Turks Paasch had slain in the battle. So first they placed two sticks in the form of a cross, one over the other; they spat on this cross, and endeavored, by blows and tortures, to force Paasch to do the same. But Paasch, who was now unbound from the horse, and fi’om whom no resistance was expected, struck the Turk who had spitten on the cross, so violently about the cars, that they again bound his hands and feet together. Then they cut him with knives and daggers to force him to spit on the cross, and as all this was of no avail, they nailed both his hands over his head to the trunk of a tree, and tried, by horsewhippings, and the wounds caused thereby, to make him pronounce the name of Mohammed. But as often as they repeated this name, he said, ‘-Jesus Christ.” Then the enemies of the Lord determined to kindle a fire at his feet, and thus to make him deny Christ, or kill him by the tortures of a fiery death. When Who can tell? perhaps the confessors in the home circle, and these of the Indian mutiny may not find themselves far aj)art in the position assigned them for eternity.
We hope that our readers will not think that we have been too long in coming to the I will ‘’ of Christ — that blessed wilP’ which follows on all this confession, and it may be suffering; which sweetens its darkest trials to the Christian, and enables him, by grace, to go forward through its most rugged passes.
The promise, then, of our blessed Lord is, that whosoever confesses Him before men, him will He confess
Paasch saw that his end was so near at hand, he prayed, with earnest and devout voice, the Lord’s Prayer, and repeated the Creed; and the Lord gave the brave warrior such peace in his heart, that he even prayed for his murderers, as our Saviour did, and the holy Stephen. And he was now filled with such lofty-, celestial joy, that he could not refrain from singing, with strong, deep voice, the grand old Passion chant, “Oh, innocent Lamb of God, slain on the cross for us,” &c. When he had sung to the end of the third verse, and ended with the words, “Grant us thy peace, 0 Jesus, Amen,” the clang of trumpets was heard from without the forest. German horsemen rode in, the Turks fled, and the horsemen beheld, with astonishment, Paasch nailed to the tree, and the fire at his feet. They at once unbound him, and he fell fainting in their arms. After they had bound up his many wounds, washed him, and provided him with clothes, he came to himself again, and his first question was, how God had sent them to him just at the right moment. They replied, “We were sent out in pursuit of the Turks, when we heard from the forest the song, ‘ Oh, innocent Lamb of God.’ That is a Christian, said we, and rode into the wood; the Lamb of God, whom thou trustedst, has saved thee.” They then brought Paasch to Belgrade. The story came to the ears of the good Prince Eugene, who ordered him to be well cared for, visited him himself, and rejoiced in his simple, child-like faith, and, as he was no longer fit for service, sent him back to his country. He lived ten years afterwards, and died, in I’? 2 8, in faith, after he had sung for the last time, “Oh, innocent Lamb of God.” before the Father and before the angels which are in heaven.
Verily I say unto you he shall in no wise lose his reward,” is the language of Scripture; not only with regard to those who give a cup of cold water in the name of Christ, but also with regard to every one who does anything for Jesus, be it great or small. There are great rewards like jewelled crowns; there are little rewards like diamond dust; the great deed of love shall receive its great reward, and the little deed shall receive its measure too; and so it shall be found hereafter that nothing was forgotten.
We have already considered the history of some who confessed their God even at the j:>eril of their lives, and these three men have doubtless in no wise lost their reward. They found in those furnace fires jewels of immeasurable price, and they won in that short sharp trial, glory which they shall wear in peace for ever and for ever. They had respect to the recompense of the reward; and now let us see whether there be not something to encourage us also, so that we, like they, may confess our Lord.
Our great encouragement is the confession which Christ will make of those by whom He is confessed.
Whosoever therefore shall confess me before men him tvill I confess also, before my Father which is in heaven!’
Now the first point to which we are to direct our attention is
The ‘personality of this confession. Individuals are to be acknowledged or confessed by an individual — men,’ by the man Christ Jesus.’
There shall be an individual owning of the confessor.
—^ him’ loill I cooifess’’ No doubt there shall hereafter be a great glorifying of holy principles; these principles are at present vilified and trampled under foot by the world; they are not the principles which are in fashion, or which attract favorable attention, or which secure the admiration of the world; but hereafter they shall be glorified and admired, when God comes to set all principles of action in their proper light.
All this is very comforting; it will be a great triumph to the believer to see the principles on which he acted, acknowledged as the true ones by God, but we have before us a still brighter prospect than this. Principles and ‘persons are here linked together; and Christ will acknowledge Plis people man by man. Him’ will I confess; the personal element at once invests this confession of our Lord with a vividness and distinctness which gives us the highest interest in it. The triumph of holy principles will be embodied in individuals; Jesus will confess as His, every one who confessed Him. The man who has made a great discovery, knows what it is to be received with acclamation by his fellow man; the man that has fought and won great battles, bears, in the stars and medals on his breast, the history of his achievements, and has a patent of nobility conferred on him: both these men may have only pushed to their legitimate conclusions principles previously wellknown, but they themselves are honored; so it will be with the saints; they, the confessors, shall receive in their own persons the reward of the confession they have made.
The personal interest is the strongest that can be appealed to in man; and it is here used by Christ. He says to you, dear reader, you confess me, I will confess you — not only will I put you amongst a class who shall he blessed, but I will acknowledge you as an individual; you shall not be lost or merged in a crowd; you shall occupy your own distinct place in my estimation; you shall have your own distinct position amongst the millions of the redeemed; you shall have your own personal feelings of happiness and triumph.
It is not selfishness to enjoy the thought of this, or to allow it to have some place in energizing us for Christ. God gave us our own individual beings, that we may be responsible in them, and that we may feel them and He meant our personal hopes and fears to be instruments in influencing us to what is right, and keeping us from what is wrong; and we may be cheered and energized by the thought, that we shall individually be confessed of Christ; if I suffer in my confession upon earth, or am put to shame because of it, I may encourage myself by the thought that I also am to be blest by Christ’s confession of me in heaven. Oh! think of this, and the vividness with which the future will thus be clothed, will give a vividness to the present also; you will say, ^Ht is not enough that Christ should he confessed, I must confess Him,” and you will ask yourselves more particularly, Wherein do I confess Him now?
Oh! it is a wonderful thought, that each confessor shall come out with personal distinctness hereafter, — that Christ will think each one worth confessing, — that He will say, I own such a one, and such a one for mine.’’ Here is a poor creature who now stands alone in the family witnessing for Christ, in all meekness, amid the indifference of some, and the taunts and sneers of others. Christ will hereafter say before the angels and His Father I a knowledge thee;’’ and here is a Sabbath School teacher and here is a servant, and here is a little child, all nobodies in the estimation of the world; but Christ recognizes them above, and remembers how they filled up their little circles of daily service, and stoutly confessed Him before their fellows; and now He calls them — his own sheep by name, and says, I confess thee, and thee, and thee.’’
And following upon that — Christ’s individuality of confession — will be Christ’s individuality of reward; then He will say, AVell done, good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.” There will no doubt be a general word for all, — Come ye blessed of my Father but there will also be a particular word for each, — Enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.”
And it will be for you, dear reader, to ask yourself, whether you be now so personally and individually in confession for Christ, that you have reason to believe that you will personally be confessed by Him. After having been nothing particular on earth, it is not reasonable to expect to be some one particular in heaven; and unless you be accounted worthy by Christ of particular notice, you will not be accounted worthy of anything at all. In that day, when men shall be known by what they were, and by what they did, what shall be known of you? Oh! this is a solemn thought for many who read these lines; when it comes down to the particulars of confession of Christ — when no mere vague generalities will be admitted, — where will you be found?
Him ivilll confess j” — “him — are there not, alas! too many, of whom the question might be asked — what can be said of and May all readers of these lines lay hold of this subject and solemnly question themselves ^Svherein am / individually a confessor When Jesus speaks and grounds what He says upon definite acts in the past — what! oh what will He say to me? And as this offers a subject for very solemn enquiry to some so does it also offer very solid encouragement and comfort to others.
Encourage yourselves to personal confession by the soul-inspiriting thought of being personally confessed. Do not, with a mistaken humility, cast away from you that which Gfod intends to be a great encouragement — the certainty of your being personally acknowledged by Christ. To us it may seem too much to be confessed by Christ, beforesuch men as Paul, that beaten, and imprisoned, and stoned, and shipwrecked man; or before those three, who fell down bound into the midst of the burning fiery furnace; or before that solitary man, who spent an awful night within the lions’ den. We might say. Who are we that we should hold up our heads amongst those who had trials of cruel mockings and scourgings, yea, moreover, of bonds and imprisonments? Who are we that we should be mentioned before such as were stoned and sawn asunder, tempted, and slain with the sword; before men who had to wander about in sheep-skins and goat-skins, being destitute and afflicted, and tormented, of whom the world was not worthy? Shall we who dwell, even in the worst cases, comparatively at ease, be mentioned in the presence of those who once had to wander in deserts, and in mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth Yes! who and what are we, that we should expect all this? We are, in our own sphere, confessors THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSIO>sL
for Jesus before men — we are men as marked in our testimony in the work-shop or the drawing-room or the counting-house, as these were in the den, the prison, and the cave; we are men who oj)enly and unmistakably confess Christ, and who humbly, yet faithfully, lay our hand upon his own promise, Whosoever therefore shall confess me before men him ivilll confess also before my Father luhich is in heaven.
We see then, that there shall bean individual owning of a person, even the confessor; let us now turn our consideration for a few moments to the fact that the individual confessor shall be acknowledged by an individual Christ, If there be much important teaching for us in the foot that it is as “persons,’’ that believers shall be acknowledged, there is much teaching in the fact that it is a person,” an individual, who is to acknowledge them — even Jesus Christ Himself: “him will I confess,” There will be personal confession for personal service. As Jesus Himself served, so Jesus Himself li acknowledge the service. He will say, Come ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was an hungered and ye gave me meat; I was thirsty and ye gave niQ drink; I was a stranger and ye took me in; naked and ye clothed me; I was sick and ye visited me; I was in prison and ye came unto me. Verily I say unto you: Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”
And if we think for a moment, we can see, how here also the introduction of the personal element increases the greatness of the reward. If we look no further than human sovereignties, we see that it is considered a great enhancement of a reward if it be given by the sovereign ill person. He who wears the cross which men receive for deeds of special valor, thinks all the more of his distinction, if the sovereign have with her own hands pinned it on his breast; and personal receptions, and autograph letters, and all into which the living individual sovereign enters, are far more highly prized than vdiat is official and nothing more.
Now, He who will hereafter confess and reward His poeople, will doubtless do so in the character of a mighty king. “Then shall the King say unto them at His right hand.’’ But it is not in his official capacity alone that He will speak, but in His personal also. The living being and energy of Christ will enter into his words, and give them depth and life; all who hear them will know that His heart goes out to those to whom they are spoken; there will be intense reality in what He says.
And, even from ordinary life, we can gather what a great increase the happiness of the saints will receive from the fact, that Jesus Himself will, with His own lips, tell them that He owns them. Do not we ourselves realize a power in the spoken word which we do not feel in a message or a letter, even though the substance be in each instance the same! When a person tells us he loves, or hates, face to face, do not his tones of voice tell it? do not his eyes tell it? do not the very muscles of his face tell it? assuming that he be earnest in his love or hate — no letter, no messenger could tell us what that living, breathing man does, whose very being is thrown into the feelings he would express. And if it be thus with these sluggish natures of ours, poor and unimpassioned, compared with a spiritual nature like our Lord’s oil! can we not see what a great enhancement it will he of the joy of the acknowledged saints that it is by Christ in person that they are confessed?
No doubC even without this it would be well worth our while to confess our Lord; even if Jesus never spake yet would it not have been well worth our while to have confessed Him if at His command some high archangel proclaimed aloud with trumpet voice, our names and our acceptance by our Lord; if listening myriads, with rapt attention, were gathered round, and the silence were to be broken by my name or by yours. Who would not buy at the cost of all he has (if it could be j)urchased by gold), the weighty honor of being thus proclaimed — of having it said of him by the high angelic herald, the King of kings and Lord of lords confesses him as His — owns him from His heart’s core before cherubim and serajihim, before martyrs and apostles and prophets, before all the hosts of heaven? But that which is in store for every man who confesses Jesus Christ in truth, is more than this. Jesus will not delegate to any of the heavenly hosts, the privilege of proclaiming the name of the man that He will confess before the Father; that He reserves for Himself — will confess before my Father which is in heaven!’
Oh! if we think coldly of Christ’s thus personally confessing us, is it not because we are, alas! only too cold in our own dull hearts? Hearts palpitate and bosoms heave and pant, and thrillings undefinable vibrate through all the mysterious chords of our being, at the sound of the voice of one we intensely love; and shall it be a matter of indifference to us, that we shall hear the voice of Jesus calling us — His sheep — by name, and confessing us before His Father that is in heaven? May it not be so — may our dull and laggard natures wake up — may our appreciation of true honor become more vivid — may our love to Jesus become more personal, more intense; and then we shall feel the power of that wondrous promise, Whosoever therefore shall confess me before men him will I confess also, before my Father which is in heaven I’’
There is yet one more aspect of this personal confession of Christ, at which we must glance, i, e,: —
The great value that is to be attached to it from our Lord’s omniscience, and from His authority to judge.
A confession of our being His, will be indeed of solid worth when made by Christ. With that confession will go forth all the authority and weight which must attach, in heaven, to every word that is uttered by Him.
And how entirely will that confession of Christ stamp the genuineness of every one whose name He will confess! Be it so, that in his earthly career there were many short-comings and imperfections — that, even in the judgment, the evil one could bring many things against him. Jesus, who knows the heart, has pronounced His confession of the poor believer as His own; henceforth, conscience, and devils, and evil men, and all who would accuse must hold their tongue.
Dear readers, Jesus knows who is confessing Him and who is not; and none who are thus confessing can be hid. If you were hidden to Jesus now, you must be unknown to him in that day when He will confess those and those only who have confessed Him.
Question yourselves, then, “What does Jesus know of me now — what grounds will He have for confessing me by and bye? Oh think of your honor, should He, who knows all hearts and lives, acknowledge you as His — how genuine you will then know yourself to be, and others shall know you to bo; and how safe for, when within the veiy shadow of the judgment-seat your Lord has confessed you as His own, who can impeach you in the position which that confession gives?
Away, then, shall flee all fears as to whether you be Christ’s or no — away shall flee all depressions and doubts, and that for ever; Christ Himself will have proclaimed you as His; acknowledged you! named you! glorified you! and there can be no more room for fear!
Come then, and let all readers who know the Lord, confess Him henceforth with more courage and distinctness than ever, remembering what is in store for them — even confession of them by Jesus in His glory.*’*’ Men who, perhaps, are civil enough to their poor relations when no one particular is near, often slight them when grand people are at hemd; but Jesus will not act thus; great indeed is the disproportion between our confessing Him and His confessing its; but He will confess us before the angels of heaven; before sainted martyrs and prophets and apostles — yea! why speak we at all of these, before the mighty Lord of all — the Father — the Most High Himself — Whosoever therefore shall confess me before men him loill I confess also before my FATHER luhich is in heaven!’’
* “Life is sweet,” said Sir Anthony Kingston to Bishop Hooper at the stake, trying to persuade him to recant, “and death bitter.” “True, friend,” he replied, “but consider that death to come is more bitter, and the life to come more sweet.”