Life’s Great Voyage
[Delivered on board steamer “City of Paris,” in New York harbor, October
29,
And they accompanied Him unto the ship.’’ Acts xx, 38.
OFF FOR THE HOLY LAND.
|g=Sf?0 the more than 25,000,000 people in many
countries to whom my sermons come week by week in English tongue and by translation, through the kindness of the newspaper press, I address these words. I dictate them to a stenographer on tli TALMAGK’o ISERMONS.
eve of my departure for the Holy land, Palestine. When you read this sermon I will be rftid-atlantic.
I go to be gone a few weeks on a religious journey. I go because I want for myself and hearers and readers to see Bethlehem, and Nazareth, and Jerusalem, and Calvary, and all the other places connected with the Savior’s life and death, and so reinforce myself for sermons. I go also because I am writing the *^Life of Christ, and can be more accurate and graphic when I have been an eye-witness of the sacred places. Pray for my successful journey and my safe return.
I wish on the eve of my departure to pronounce a loving benediction upon all my friends in high places and low, upon congregations to whom my sermons are read in absence of pastors, upon groups gathered out on prairies and in mining districts, upon all sick and invalid and aged ones who cannot attend churches, but to whom I have long administered through the printed page. My next sermon will be addressed to you from Rome. I think I feel like Paul when he said: “So, as much as in me is, I am ready to preach the gospel to you that are at Rome also,”
PAUL AS A SAILOR. ’
The fact is that Paul was ever moving about on land or sea. He was an old sailor — not from occupation, but from frequency of travel. I think he could have taken a vessel across the Mediterranean as well as some of the ship captains. The sailors never scoffed at him for being a ^4and lubber,” If Paul’s advice had been taken the crew would never have gone ashore at Melita.
When the vessel went >^ciuUlii]!g under bare poles Paul was the only sdf-pOvSSessed wmm Qti board, and, turning to the excited passengers, he exclaims in a voice that sounds above the thunder of the tempest and the wrath of the sea: Be of good cheer.”
ANCIENT NAVIGATION.
The men who now go to sea with maps, and charts, and modern compass, warned by buoys and light-house, know nothing of the perils of ancient navigation. Horace said that the man who first ventured on the sea must have had a heart bound with oak and triple brass. People then ventured only from headland to headland and from island to island, and not until long after spread their sail for a voyage across the sea. Before starting the weather was watched, and the vessel having been hauled up on the shore the mariners placed their shoulders against the stern of the ship and heaved it off, they at the last moment leaping into it. Vessels were then chiefly ships of burden — the transit of passengers being the exception; for the world was not then migratory as in our day, when the first desire of a man in one place seems to be to go into another place. The ship from which Jonah was thrown overboard and in that which Paul was carried prisoner went out chiefly with the idea of taking a cargo. As now, so then, vessels were accustomed to carry a flag. In those times it was inscribed with the name of a heathen deity. A vessel bound for Syracuse had on it the inscription ‘’Castor and Pollux.
The ships were provided with anchors. Anchors were of two different kinds — those that were dropped into the sea and those that were thrown up onto the rocks to hold the vessel fast. This last kind was what Paul alluded to when he said: ‘’Which hope we have
TALMAGE^S SERMONS.
as an alichor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, and which entereth into that within the vail.’* That was what the sailors call a ‘hook anchor,” The rocks and sand-bars, shoals and headlands, not being mapped out, vessels carried a plumb line. They would drop it and find the water fifty fathoms, and drop it again and find it forty fathoms, and drop it again and find it thirty fathoms, thus discovering their near approach to the shore.
TRAMPLING THE BILLOWS.
In the spring, summer, and autumn, the Mediterranean sea was white with the wings of ships, but at the first wintry blast they hied themselves to the nearest harbor, although now the world’s commerce prospers in January as well as in June, and in mid-winter all over the wide and stormy deep there floats palaces of light, trampling the billows under foot and showering the sparks of terrible furnaces on the wild wind, and the Christian passenger, tippeted and shawled, sits under the shelter of the smoke-stack, looking off upon the phosphorescent deep, on which is written in scrolls of foam and fire: *^Thy way, O God, is in the sea and thy path in the great waters! ‘*
It is in those days of early navigation that I see a group of men, women, and children on the beach of the Mediterranean. Paul is about to leave the congregation to whom he had preached and they are come down to see him off. It is a solemn thing to part. There are so niany traps that wait for a man’s feet. The solid ground may break through, and the sea — how many dark mysteries it hides in its bosom! A few counsels, a hasty good-by, a last look, and the ropes rattle, and the Scils are hoisted, and the planks are talmage’s sermon?
hauled in, and Paul is gone. I expect to sail over some of the same waters over which Paul sailed, but before going I want to urge jou all to embark for heaven.
THE CHURCH IS THE DRY DOCK FOR REPAIRS.
The church is the dry dock where souls are to be fitted out for heaven. In making a vessel for this voyage the first need is sound timber. The floor timbers ought to be of solid stuff. For the want of it vessels that look able to run their jibbooms into the eye of any tempest when caught in a storm have been crushed like a wafer. The truths of Gods word are what I mean by floor timbers. Away with your lighter materials. Nothing but oaks hewn in the forest of divine truth, are staunch enough for this craft.
LOVE IS THE HELM.
You must have love for a helm to guide and turn the craft. Neither pride nor ambition nor avarice will do for a rudder. Love, not only in the heart, but flashing in the eye and tingling in the hand — love married to work, which many look upon as so homely a bride — love, not like brooks, which foam and rattle, yet do nothing, but love like a river, that runs up the steps of mill-wheels and works in the harness of factory bands — love that will not pass by on the other side, but visits the man who fell among thieves near Jericho, not merely saying; ^*Poor fellow! you are dreadfully hurt,’’ but like the good Samaritan, pours in oil and wine and pays his board at the tavern. There must also be a prow, aranged to cut and override the billow. That is Christian perservance. Thefe are three mountain surges that sometimes dash againist a soul in a minute — the world, the flesh and the devil — and that is a well built prow that can bound over them. For lack of this many have put back and never started again. It is the broadside wave that so often sweeps the deck and fills the hatches, but that which strikes in front is harmless. Meet troubles courageously and you surmount them. Stand on the prow, and as you wipe off the spray of the split surge, cry out with the apostle: None of these things move me.^’ Let all your fears stay aft. The right must conquer. Know that Moses, in an ark of bulrushes, can run down a war-steamer.
THE ANCHOR IS HOPE.
Have a good, strong anchor. Which hope we have as an anchor.” By this strong cable and windlass hold on to your anchor. ^^If any man sin we have an advocate with the father.’^ Do not use the anchor wrongfully. Do not always stay in the same latitude and longitude. You will never ride up the harbor of eternal rest if you all the way drag your anchor.
FAITH IS OUR CANVAS.
But you must have sails. Vessels are not fit for the sea until they have the flying jib, the foresail, the top gallant, the skysail, the gafifsail, and other canvas. Faith is our canvas. Hoist it and the winds of heaven will drive you ahead. Sails made out of any other canvas than faith will be split to tatters by the first northeaster. Strong faith never lost a battle. It will crush foes, blast rocks, quench lightnings, thrash mountains. It is* a shield to the warrior, a crank to the most ponderous wheel, a lever to pry up pyramids, a
24 ^wTvTvIAge’o sermoxc,
drum whose beat gives strength to the heavenly soldiery, and sails to waft ships laden with priceless pearls from the harbor of earth to the harbor of heaven.
PRAYER THE RUNNING RIGGING.
But you are not yet equipped. You must have what seamen call the running rigging. This comprises the ship’s braces, halyards, clew-lines, and such like. Without these the yards could not be braced, the sails lifted, or the canvas in anywise managed. We have prayer for the running rigging. Unless you understand this tackling you are not a spiritual seaman. By pulling on these ropes you hoist che sails of faith and turn them every whither. The prow of courage will not cut the wave nor the sail of faith spread and flap its wings unless you have a strong prayer for a halyard.
THE COMPASS IS THE BIBLE.
One more arrangement and you will be ready for sea. You mus c have a compass — which is a bible. Look at it every day, and always sail by it, as its needle points toward the star of Bethehem. Through fog, and darkness, and storm it works faithfully. Search the scriptures. Box the compass.’’
Let me give you two or three rules for the voyage. Allow your appetites and passions only an under-deck passage. Do not allow them ever to come up on the promenade deck. Mortify your members which are upon the earth. Never allow your lower nature anything - better than a steerage passage. Let watchfulness walk the decks as an armed sentinel and shoot down with great promptne^ nnything like a mtuiity of riotous ap* petitCvS,
I^IFE’S GREAT VOYAGE, 25
LOOKOUT FOR ICE-BERGS.
Be sure to look out of the forecastle for icebergs. There are cold christians floating around in the church. The frigid-zone professors will sink you. Stear clear of icebergs. Keep a log-book during all the voyage — an account of how many furlongs you make a day. The merchant keeps a day-book as well as a ledger. You ought to know every night, as well as every year, how things are going. When the express train stops at the depot you hear a hammer sounding on the wheels, thus testing the safety of the rail train. Bound as we are with more than express speed toward a great eternity, ought we not often to try the work of self-examination?
KEEP YOUR COLORS UP.
Be sure to keep your colors up. You know the ships of England, Russia, France and Spain by the ensigns they carry. Sometimes it is a lion, sometimes an eagle, sometimes a star, sometimes a crown. Let it ever be known who you are and for what port you are bound. Let Christian be written on the very front, with a figure of a cross, a crown, and a dove, and from the masthead let float the streamers of Immanuel. Then the pirate vessels of temptation will pass you by unharmed as they say: *^There goes a Christian, bound for the port of heaven. We will not disturb her, for she has too many guns aboard.
Run up your flag on this puUy: ‘’I am not ashamed of the gOvSpel of Christ, for it is the power of God and the wisdom of God unto salvation.’^ When driven back or laboring under great stress of weather — now changing from starboard tack to larboard, and then from larboard to starboard — look above the topgallants and your heart shall beat like a war-drum as the streamers float on the wind. The sign of the cross will make you patient and the crown will make you glad.
CHRIST IS THE PILOT.
Before you gain port you will smell the land breezes of heaven, and Christ the pilot, will meet you as you come into the narrows of death, and fasten to you, and say: ‘When thou passest through the waters I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee.’’ Are you ready for such a voyage? Make up your minds. The gang-planks are lifting. The bell rings. All aboard for heaven! This world is not your rest. The chafl&nch is the silliest bird in all the earth for trying to make its nest on the rocking billow. Oh, how I wish that as I embark for the Holy land in the east, all to whom I preach by tongue or type would embark for heaven! What you all most need is God, and you need him now. Some of you I leave in trouble. Things are going very rough with you. You have had a hard struggle with poverty, or sickness, or persecution, or bereavement. Light after light has gone out, and it is so dark that you can hardly see any blessing left. May that Jesus who comforted the widow of Nain and raised the deceased to life, with his gentle hand of sympathy wipe away your tears! All is well.
INCIDENTS IN THE LIFE OP DAVID, JOB,
ROSSINI AND WATTS.
When David was fleeing through the wilderness pursued by his own son he was being prepared to become the sweet singer of Israel. The pit and the dungeon were the best schools at which Joseph ever graduated. The hurricane that upset the tent and killed Job’s children prepared the man of Uz to write the magnificent poem that has astonished the ages. There is no way to get the wheat out of the straw but to thrash it. There is no way to purify the gold but to burn it. Look at the people who have always had it their own way. They are proud, discontented, useless, and unhappy. If you want to find cheerful folks go among those who have been purified by the fire. After Rossini had ren dered ^’William Tell” the five hundreth time a company of musicians came under his window in Paris and serenaded him. They put upon his brow a golden crown of laurel leaves. But amidst all the applause and enthusiasm Rossini turned to a friend and said: ‘’I would give all this brilliant scene for a few days of youth and love.” Contrast the melancholy feeling of Rossini, who had everything that this world could give him, to the joyful experience of Isaac Watts, whose misfortunes were innumerable, when he says:
‘’The hill of Zion yields
A thousand sacred sweets
Before we reach the heavenly fields,
Or walk the golden streets.
Then let our songs abound,
And every tear be dry;
We’re marching through Immanuel’s ground,
To fairer worlds on high.” -
It is prosperity that kills and trouble that saves. While the Israelites were on the march, amid great privations and hardships, they behaved well. After a while they prayed for meat, and the sky darkened with a large flock of quails, and these quails fell in great multitudes all about them; and the Israelites ate and ate and they stuffed themselves until they died. Oh I my friends, it is not hardship, or tHal, or starvation that injures the soul, but abundant supply. It is not the vulture of trouble that eats up the Christian’s life; it is the quails! it is the quails!
ONCE MORE I CONFESS MY FAITH.
I can not leave you until once more I confess my faith in the Savior whom I have preached. He is my all in all. I owe more to the grace of God than most men. With this ardent temperament if I had gone over-board I would have gone to the very depths. You know I can do nothing by halves:
*’0h, to grace how great a debtor
Daily I’m constrained to be!”
I think all will be well. Do not be worried about me. I know that my Redeemer liveth, and if any fatality should befall me I think I should go straight. I have been most unworthy, and would be sorry to think that any one of my friends had been as unworthy a Christian as myself. But God has helped a great many through, and I hope he will help. me through. It is a long account of shortcomings, but if he is going to rub any of it out I think he will rub it all out. And now give us (for I go not alone) your benediction. When you send letters to a friend in a distant land you say via such a city or via such a steamer. When you send your good wishes to us send them via the throne of God. We shall not travel out of the reach of your prayers: j
•’There is a scene where spirits blend, f
Where friend holds intercourse with friend;
Thouih sundered far, by faith we meet
Around one common mercy seat,’*
“GOOD-BY,”
And now, may the blessing of God come down upon your bodies and upon your souls, your fathers and mothers, your companions, your children your brothers and sisters, and your friends! May you be blessed in your business and in your pleasures, in your joys and in your sorrows, in the house and by the way! And if, during our separation, an arrow from the unseen world should strike any of us, may it only hasten on the raptures that God has prepared for those who love him! I utter not the word farewell; it is too sad, too formal a word for me to speak or write. But, considering that I have your hand tightly clasped in mine, I utter a kind, an affectionate, and a cheerful good-by!