A Frail Leaf

Wilt thou break a leaf driven to and fro t” — Job xiii. 25.

OOIl Job! who could have been brought lower? He had lost his possessions, his children, his health; he was covered with sore boils, and he was aggravated by the unkind speeches of his friends. In his djeep distress he turns to God, and finding no other plea so near at hand he makes a plea of his own distress. He compares him self to the weakest thing he could think of, and then he says to God, the great and the merciful, “Wilt thou, so glorious in power and so matchless in goodness — wilt tJwu break me, who am like a poor leaf fallen from the tree, sere and dry, and driven to and fro in the wind?” Thus he draws an argument out of his weakness. Because he is so low and insignificant and powerless he lays hold upon the divine strength and pleads for pity.

It is a common figure he uses, that of a leaf driven to and fro. Strong gusts of wind, it may be in the autumn when the leaves hang but lightly upon the trees, send them falling in showers around us; quite helpless to stay their own course, fluttering in. the air to and fro, like winged birds that could not steer themselves, but are guided by every fitful blast that blew upon them, at last they sunk into the mire, to be trodden down and forgotten. To these Job likens himself — a helpless, hopeless, worthless, weak, despised, perishing thing; and he appeals to the awful Majesty on high, and he says to the God of thunder and of lightning, “Wilt thou put out thy power to destroy me? Wilt thou bring forth thy dread artillery to crush such an insignificant creature as I am? With all the goodness of thy great heart — for thy name is God, that is good — wilt thou turn thy Almighty power against me? Oh, that be far from thee! Out of pity upon my utter weakness and nothingness, turn away thy hand, and break not a leaf that is driven to and fro!”

The apprehension is so startling, the appeal so forcible, that the argument may be employed in a great many ways. How often have the sick used it, when they have been brought to so low an ebb with physical pain that life itself seemed worthless! Stricken with disease, stung with smart, and fretted with acute pangs, they felt that if the affliction continued much longer, it were be to /

ter for them to die than live. They longed for the shades of death, that they might find shelter there. Turning their face to the wall, they have said,” O God, so weak as I am, wilt thou again smite me? Shall thy hand again fall upon me? Thou hast laid me very low. Wherefore again dost thou lift up thy rod ‘( Break not,- I beseech thee, a leaf that is driven to and fro! ‘’

ISTot less applicable the plea to those who are plunged into the depths of poverty! A man is in trouble aricing from destitution; perhaps he has been long out oi work; bread is not to be found; the children are crying, hungering, starving; the habitation has been stripped of everything which might procure a little nourishment. The poor wretch, after passing through seas of trouble, finds himself no nearer a landing-place than before, but

“Sees each day new straits attend,
And wonders where the scene will end.”

Passing through the streets he is hardly able to keep his feet from the pavement or his skin from the cold, by reason of his tattered garments. Homeless and friendless, life a leaf that is driven to and fro, he says, “O God! wilt thou continue this much longer? Wilt thou not be pleased to stay thy rough wind, mitigate the sharpness of the winter, ease my adversity, and give me peace?”

So, too, with those who are in trouble through bereavement. One child has been taken away, and then another. The shafts of death flew twice. Then carne sickness with threatening omen upon one that was nearer and dearer still. Still did not the desolation stay its gloomy portents. It seemed at length as though the widow would bo bereft of her last and only child, and then she cried, “O God! I am already broken; my heart is like a ploughed field, cross-ploughed, till my soul is ready to despair! Wilt thou utterly break me? AVilt thou spare me no consolations, no props for my old age? Must I be altogether driven awav before the whirlwind, and find no rest?”

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Perhaps it is even more harassing in cases of menial distress, for, after all, the sharpest pangs we feel are not those of the body, nor those of the estate, but those of the mind. When the iron enters into the soul, the rust thereof is poison. “The spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity, but a wounded spirit who can bear? You may be surrounded with all the comforts of life, and yet be in wretchedness more gloomy than death if the spirits be depressed. You may have no outward cause whatever for sorrow, and yet if the mind be dejected, the brightest sunshine will not relieve your gloom. At such a time, you may be vexed with cares, haunted with dreams, and scared with thoughts which distract you. You fear that your sins are not pardoned, that your past transgressions are brought to remembrance, and that punishment is being meted out to you in full measure. The threatenings rise up out of God’s book, and seem to lift sharp swords in their hands with which to smite you. Time is dreadful to you, because you know it is hurrying you to eternity; and the thought of eternity stings as doth an adder, because you measure the future reckoning by the present distress. At such a time, when you are faint with longing, ready to despair, driven to the verge of madness, I can imagine your crying out, “O Lord God of mercy, I am as a leaf that is driven to and fro; wilt thou quite break me, and utterly destroy me? Have compassion, and show thy favor to thy poor broken creature!” Many a child of God may have used this, and if he has not used it yet, still he may use it. There are times when all our evidences get clouded, and all our joys are red. Though we may still cling to the cross, yet it is with a desperate grasp. God brings our sins to remembrance, till our bones, as David puts it, “are sore broken by reason of our iniquity.” Then it is that, all-broken, we can turn to the Strong for strength, and use the plea of the text, “Wilt thou break a leaf driven to and fro?” and we shall get for our answer these comforting words, “A bruised reed he will not break, and smoking flax he will not quench.”

I. TlIE PLEA IS SUCH AS AKISES FKOM INWAKD CON SCIOUSNESS.

What plea is more powerful to ourselves than that which we draw from ourselves? A man may not be sure of aught that is without him, for eyes and ears may deceive; but he is always pretty well assured of any thing within him, for that which he perceives in his own consciousness he is very tenacious about. Now, in this case. Job was quite certain about his own weakness. How could he doubt that? He looked upon his poor body covered with sores, he looked upon his friends who had perplexed and vexed him so much, and he felt that he was, indeed, just like a sere leaf. I do trust that many of us have been brought by God the Holy Spirit into such an humble frame of mind as to feel that, in a certain sense, this is true of us.: “O God, if we know ourselves aright, we are all like withered leaves; we once thought ourselves fresh and green; we reckoned that we were as s;ood as others, so we made a fine and verdant profession; but lo! thou hast been pleased to deal with us, and all the fresh verdure of what we thought to be our piety — the natural piety which we thought we poseessed — has faded and withered, and now we are convinced that we are altogether as an unclean thing, and that all our righteousnesses are as filthy rags. Nay, the hope that we clung to as the leaf clings to the tree, we have had to give up. We are blown away from that. We were once upon the tree of good works; we seemed as if we had life, and should always be happy there, Imt the winds have taken us away, and we cannot hold on to our hope. We once thought that we could do evt rything; we now perceive that without Christ we can. do nothing. “We are cast forth as a branch separated from the vine; we are withered. What can a leaf do? What power has it to resist the wind? Just so we feel now; we can do nothing; even the sin that dwelleth in us, like the wind, carrieth us away; and we are like the leaf in the wind, subject to its power.

O, my brethren, what a great blessing it is to be made to know oar weakness. To empty the sinnei of his folly, his vanity and conceit, is no easy matter. Christ can easily fill him with wisdom and prudence, but to get him empty — this is the M’ork; this is the difficulty. To make a man know that he is in himself utterly lost, ruined, and undone; this is the Spirit of God’s own work. We ministers cannot make a man see that, however diligently we may point it out; only the Spirit of God can enlighten the heart to discern it; and yet, until a man does see it, he cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven, for there are none within the pearly gates who were not once broken-hearted sinners. Who could come there and sing, “Unto Him who loved us, and washed us from our sins in his blood,” but those who once said, “Pardon mine iniquity, for it is great ‘(” While it is n confession of weakness, it is also an acknowledgment of God? s power to push that weakness to a direful conclusion. “Wilt thou break me?” says the text — “Lord, thou canst do it. In one minute thou couldst take away hope from every one of us now in this house of prayer.” Some there be who are in the house of doom, where prayer can never be answered, and where mercy’s proclamation can never be heard. God could break us. It is an easy thing for him to destroy; and more, he is not only able, but he has the right to do it if lie wills, for we are such worthless creatures through our disobedience, that we may say, in the words of the hymn —

“If my soul were sent to hell,
Thy righteous law approves it well.”

“When we feel this, then let us make a proper use of our own consciousness, not to despond and faint, but to arise and go to our Father, so we shall come to God and say,” Thou canst destroy me; Thou mayest destroy me justly, and I cannot resist thee. I cannot save my self from thy vengeance, nor can I merit anything at thy hand; I am as weak as water, and altogether as perishing a thing as a poor withered leaf; but wilt thou destroy me? I plead for pity. Oh! have pity upon me! O God, let thy bowels yearn towards me, and show me thy great compassion! I have heard that thou delightest in mercy; and as Ben-hadad of old, with the rope about his neck, sent in unto the king, and confessed that he deserved to die, so do I confess; and as the king forgave him, even so do thou with me — a guilty culprit trembling in thy ‘presence!

“Show pity, Lord; 0 Lord, forgive;
Let a repenting rebel live.”

II. This is also A VERT PITIFUL PLEA.

Though there is weakness, yet there is also power, f?r weakness is, for the most part, a prevalent plea with those who are strong and good. You could not see on your road home to-night a poor fainting woman, and pass her by, I trust. You could not have brought in before vour presence a half-starved child, that could not drag its weary limbs along, without feeling that you must give relief. The mere sight of weakness draws pity. As a certain town was being sacked, one of the rough soldiery is said to have spared a little child, be cause it said, “Please, sir, don’t kill me, I am so little.” The rough warrior felt the cogency of the plea. You may yourselves just plead thus with God. “O God, do not destroy me! I deserve it, but oh, T am so little! Turn thy power upon some great thing, and let thy bowels move with compassion towards me!”

The plea gathers force when the weakness is confessed. If a man shall have done you some wrong, and shall come and acknowledge it, and bow down before you and confess it, why, then you feel that you cannot take him by the throat, but you say, “Rise, I have forgiven thee!” When weakness appeals to strength for protection, and confession of guilt is relied on as an argument for mercy, those who are good arid strong are pretty sure to be moved with compassion.

But, best of all, going from the positive to the comparative, and from the comparative to the superlative, howaprofession of weakness touches your heart when it comes from your child. If your child has been chastised, and has confessed his wrong, and pleads with you, how you stay your hand! Or, if the child be sick, and some thing be done to it which pains it, if while the operation is being performed he should look you in the face, and say, “Father, spare thy child; I can bear no more!” you have already felt more than you can make him feel; forthwith your own tears blind you, and you stay your Land. “Like as a father pitieth his children, even BO the Lord pitieth them that fear him.” If you have faith to bring your weakness before God with the sense of a child towards him, you surely must prevail. Come, then, you timid trembling children of your Father who is in heaven, use this plea — “Wilt thou break a leaf that is driven to and fro?”

III. This PLEA IS RIGHTLY ADDRESSED.

It is addressed to God. As I thought it over, it seemed to me as if I could use it to each Person of the Blessed Trinity in Unity. Looking up to the great Father of our spirits, from whom every good and perfect gift cotneth down, it seemed to me that out of weakness I could say to Him, ’ “Wilt thou, whose name is leather, wilt thou break a leaf that is driven to and fro? Thou art the God that made us; wilt thou utterly destroy the earthen vessel which thou hast fashioned on the wheel? Thy name is ‘Preserver of men; ’ wilt thou annihilate us, and break us into shivers? Hast thou not revealed thyself as delighting in mercy? Art thou not the ‘Lord God, merciful and gracious, passing by iniquity, transgression, and sin’? Hast thou not said, ‘Come, now, and let us reason together; though your sins be as scarlet they shall be as wool; though they be red as crimson they shall be whiter than snow? ‘O God the Father of heaven, wilt t/wu break a leaf that is driven to and fro?”

And then, I thought I could address mvself to the

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blessed Son of God, who is also our brother in human flesh, and say to him, Wilt thou break — 0 thou “faithful High Priest, touched with a feeling of our infirmities” — “bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh” — Brother of our soul, by whose stripes we are healed — wilt thou break a leaf that is driven to and fro? Nay, by thy thorn-crowned head and thy bloody sweat, by thy cross and passion, by thy wounds and thy death-cry, thou canst not, wilt not be unmerciful and unkind. Surely, they who in confidence turn to thee, and lay hold upon thee, shall find that thy strength shall be ready to help; for though thine arm be strong to smite, it is no less strong to save.

Again, it con:es across me sweetly, “O blessed Spirit! couldst thou break a leaf that is driven to and fro? Thou art no eagle; thou didst descend on Christ in Jordan as a dove; thine influences are soft and eoothing. Thy name is’ The Comforter’: thou takest of the things of Christ, not to blast us, but to bless us therewith; thou art not a destroying Spirit, but a quickening Spirit, not a terri ying but an enlivening Spirit; wilt thou break a leaf that is driven to and fro P

Yea, I address thee, thou Triune God, thou who art so full of mercy, and love, arid grace, and truth, that those who have known thee best have been compelled to say, “Oh, how great is thy goodness which thou hast laid up for them that fear thee! Oh, the depths of thy lovingkiudness!” is it possible that thou canst cast away a poor, broken-hearted trembler, a poor, fearing, doubting one, who would fain be saved, but who trembles lest he should be cast away?

IV. THIS PLEA IB BACKED UP BY MANY CASES OF
SUCCESS.

We will not give many, for we have not time; but there is one case which we may mention: There was a woman whose life was exceedingly sorrowful. She was an Eastern wife, and her husband had been foolish enough to have a second mistress in the house. The woman of whom we speak, a holy woman, a woman of refined and delicate mind, a poetess, indeed, of no mean order — this poor woman, having no children, was the constant butt of her rival, whose sneering spiteful remarks chaffed and chafed her. Her adversary, it is said, “vexed her sore to make her afraid.” Though her husband was exceedingly kind to her, yet as with a sword that cnt her bones did she go continually. She was a woman of a sorrowful spirit, her spirit being broken. Still, “she feared the Lord exceedingly,” and she went up to God’s house, and it was in God’s house that she received, what was to her, perhaps, the greatest blow of her life. If from her rival that she received the harshest word, it was from the II igh Priest of God that she received this hardest blow. As she stood there praying, using no vocal sound, but her lips moving, the High Priest — an easy soul, who had brought his own family to ruin by his easiness — little knowing her grief, told her that she was drunken. A woman to whom the thought of such a sin would have been bitter as gall, it must have smitten her as with the chill blast of death, that God’s priest had said she was drunken. But, as you will all remember, the Lord did not break the leaf that was driven to and fro. To her there came a comfortable promise. Ere long that woman stood there to sing. The mercy of God had made the barren woman to rejoice, and to be the joyful mother of children. The song of the Virgin Mary was modelled after the song of Hannah — that memorable poem in which she sang of the Lord

The Frail Leaf. who had tilled the hungry with good things, while the rich he had sent empty away. In that case the Lord did not break the leaf that was driven to and fro.

In after years — to take an example of another kind — there was a king who had sinned desperately, slaying God’s servants with both hands. 13ut he was taken captive by a powerful monarch, and was thrown into prison, such a noisome prison that he was among thorns, in mental as well as in material darkness. Then, troubled in spirit, tossed to and fro, and without power to help himself, Manasseh sought unto the Lord, and he found the Lord; he prayed unto the Lord, and the Lord heard him. Out of the low dungeon, he did not break the leaf that was driven to and fro.

Take a later case, in our Saviour’s time. The picture of those proud Pharisees hurrying into our Saviour’s presence a poor fallen woman is even now in your mind’s eye. Yes, sirs, she was taken in adultery. There was no doubt of it; she was “taken in the very act.” and there she stands — nay, she kneels, all covered with blushes — before the man who is asked to judge her. And you remember his words. He never said a word to excuse her guilt: the Saviour con Id not and would not condone her shame; nor would he, on the other hand, lend himself to crush the woman who had sinned; but he said — “Where are those thine accusers? Go and sin no more!” Let his words come unto thee, poor leaf, driven to and fro! Oh, if there should be such H leaf as that driven here to-night, driven in, perhaps, by stress of weather! Men despise you; from your own sex you get faint pity; but, Jesus, when thou art appealed to, thou wilt not break such a leaf that is driven to and fro!

Shall I tell another story of the woman who came behind the Master in the press, and stole a cure by touching his garment? She thought she would receive a curse, but he said — “Be thou of good cheer; thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace.” It was poor faith: it is very like unbelief; but yet it was rewarded with a rich acceptance, for he will not break a leaf that is driven to and fro.

V. Once more, my text is A FAINT PLEA WHICH

INVITES FULL SUCCOR.

“Wilt thou break a leaf that is driven to and fro?” O Job! there is much wrapped up in what thou hast said.

He meant this — “Instead of breaking it, thou wilt spare it; thou wilt gather it up; thou wilt give it life again.” It is like th<>t text, “A bruised reed he will not break.” Oh, it means more than that; it means that he will heal its bruises. “A smoking flax he will not quench.” That is good, but it means more. It means that he will stoop down to him, and that with his soft breath he will blow that smoking flax into a flame; he will not let it go out; he will preserve its heat, and make something more of it. O you, who are brought to the very lowest of weakness! use that weakness in pleading with God, and he will return unto you with such a fulness of blessing that you shall receive the pardon of sin; you shall be accepted through the righteousness of Christ; you shall be dear to the heart of God; you shall be filled with his Spirit; you shall be blessed with all the fulness of God.

The Frail Leaf. 91

My Lord is such a One that if a beggar asks a penny of him he gives him gold, and if you ask only for the pardon of sins, he will give you all the covenant blessing which he has been pleased so bounteously to provide for the necessities of his people. Come, poor guilty one, needy, helpless, broken, and bruised. Corne thou by faith, and let thy weakness plead with God through. Jesus Christ.

VI. WE MAY USE TLIIS PLEA MANY OF US WHO

HAVE LONG KNOWN THE SAVIOUR.

Perhaps our faith has got to be very low. O Lord, wilt thou destroy my little faith? I know there is sin in it. To be so unbelieving as I am is no little crime; but, Lord, I thank thee that I have any faith. It is weak and trembling, but it is faith of thine own giving. Oh, break not the poor leaf that is driven to and fro!

It may be your hope is not very bright. You can not see the golden gates, though they are very near. Well, but your hope shall not be destroyed because it is clouded. You can say, “Lord, wilt thou destroy my hope because it is dim?” No, that he will not!

Perhaps you are conscious that you have not been so useful lately as you once were, but you may say, “Lord, wilt thou destroy my usefulness because I have been laid aside, or have not done what I ought to have done in thy service?” Bring your little graces to Christ as the mothers brought their little children, and ask him to put his hands upon them and to bless them. Bring your mustard-seed to Christ, and ask him to make it grow into a tree, and he will do it; but never think that he will destroy you, or that he will destroy the works of his own hand in you.

92 Types and Emljlems.

Oh! that I could so preach as to give the comfort to you which I felt in my own soul while musing over these words! I wish that some who feel how lost, how empty, and how ruined they are, could now believe in the great and the good heart of my Lord Jesus Christ. Little do they know how glad he will be to save them. You will be glad to be saved; but he will be more glad to save you. You will be thankful to sit at the feast; but, of all that come to the banquet, there is no heart so glad as the heart of the king. When the king came in to see the guests, I know there were gleams of joy in his face which were not to be found in the faces of any of the guests. He has the joy of benevolence. Perhaps you have sometimes felt a thrill of pleasure when you have done some good to your poor fellow-creatures. Now, bethink ye what must be the joy of Christ, the joy of the Father, and the joy of the Holy Spirit — the joy of doing good to those who do not deserve it, the joy of bestowing favors upon the wicked and the unthankful, the joy of showing that he doeth good because he is good — not because you are good, but because Tie is good; thus the Lord God will overleap the mountains of your sins and your prejudices, and the rivers of your iniquities, that he may come unto you and display the full tide of his lovingkindness and his tender mercy.

Oh! that some might be now for the first time drawn to Jesus, put their trust in him, and find pardon and peace.

“And for a helmet, the hope of salvation.” — 1 TDESS. v. 8.

very mention of a helmet may well serve to

REMIND EVERY CHRISTIAN THAT HE IS A
SOLDIER.

I. If you were not soldiers, you would not need armor; but, being soldiers, you need to be clad from head to foot in armor of proof. I suppose every Christian knows, as a matter of theory, that he is a Christian soldier, and that he has been enlisted under the banner of the cross, to fight against the powers of darkness until he wins the victory. But, we all need to have’ our memories refreshed upon this matter, for soldiering in time of war, at any rate, is not a very pleasant occupation, and the flesh constantly attempts to give it over. That” we have no abiding city here *’ is a truth we all admit, and yet the most of us try to make the earth as comfortable to ourselves as if it were to be our abiding residence. We are all soldiers, we know that; but, still, too many Christians act as if they could be the friends of the world and the friends of God at the same time. Now, Christian, recollect once for all that you are a soldier. Did you dream, young man, that as soon as you were baptized, and added to the church, the conflict was all over? Ah, it was then just beginning. Like Caesar, you then crossed the Rubicon, and declared war against your deadly enemy. You drew your sword then; you did not sheathe it. Your proper note on joining the church is not one of congratulation, as though the victory were won, but one of preparation; for now the trumpet sounds, and the light begins. You are a soldier at all times, Christian. You ouht to sit even at your table as a

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soldier sits, and you should go out, especially into the world, as a soldier goes out. Never take off your armor, for if you do, in some unguarded moment you may meet with serious wounds. But, keep your armor ever about you, and be watchful, for you are always in the midst of enemies wherever you may be. Even when the persons who surround you are your friends, there are still evil spirits unseen of men who watch for your halting. You must not put up your sword, for you are to wrestle against principalities, and powers, and spiritual wickedness in high places; against these you must ever be on the watch. You are a soldier, man; remember that. Nor are you a soldier in ban-racks, or at home, but you are a soldier in an enemy’s country. Your place is either in the trenches or else in the thick of the battle. You who are sick are like soldiers in the trenches. You are patiently hoping and quietly waiting, as it were, upon the ramparts, looking for the time to come. But, others of you, out in business and engaged in the concerns of life, are like soldiers marching in long file to the conflict, like the horsemen dashing on to the front of the battle. More or less, according to your circumstances, you are all exposed to the foe, and that at every period of life.

Where are yon, let me ask, but in the country of an enemy who never gives any quarter? If you fall, it is death. The world never forgives the Christian; it hates him with a perfect hatred, and it longs to do him ill. Only let the world see yon commit half a trip, and they will soon report and magnify it. What might be done by other men without observation, if it were done by a Christian, would be noticed, reported, and misrepresented. The world understands that yon are its natural antagonist. Satan perceives in you a representative of his old enemy the Lord Jesus, and you may rest assured that he will never give you quarter if once he gets an opportunity of destroying you. Mind the enemy, mind the enemy, for he is one of a malicious spirit.

Yon have to light with one too who never yet made a truce. You may come to terms and parley, but the powers of evil never do. You may hang out the white flag if you like. The foe may seem for a time as though he gave you credit, but do you never give your foe any credit. He hates you when he seems to love you best. ‘• Dread the Greeks, even when they bring you gifts,” said the tradition of old; and let the Christian dread the world most when it puts on its softest speeches. Stand, then, upon your guard, ye warriors of the cross; when least you fear, the cringing foe will come behind you, and stab you, under the pretence of friendship. Your Master was betrayed with a kiss, and so will you be, unless you watch unto prayer.

You have to do with an enemy who never can make any peace with you, nor can you ever make any peace with him. If you become at peace with sin, sin liae conquered you; and it is impossible, unless you give up the fight, and yield your neck to everlasting thraldom, that there should ever be peace for so much as a moment. O Christian, see how guarded you ought to be. How needful to be clothed with your armor! How needful to have it of the right kind, to keep it bright, and to wear it constantly! You are a soldier, a soldier in battle, a soldier in the foeman’s country, a soldier with a cruel and malicious enemy, who knows neither truce nor parley, and who gives no quarter, but will fight with you till you die. Heaven is the land where your sword should be sheathed; there shall you hang the banner high, but here we wrestle with the foe, and must do so till we cross the torrent of death. Right up to the river’s edge must the conflict be waged. Foot by foot, and inch by inch, must :y the land to Canaan’s happy shore be won. Not a step can be taken without conflict and strife; but, once there, you may lay aside your helmet, and put on your crown; put away your sword, and take your palm-branch; your fingers shall no longer need to learn to war, but your hearts shall learn the music of the happy songsters in the skies. This then is the first tin -unlit — you are a soldier.

II. The second thought is this — BEING A SOLDIER

LOOK TO YOUR HEAD.

Soldiers, look to your heads. A wound in the head is a serious matter. The head being a vital part, we need to be well protected there. The heart needs to be guarded with the breastplate, but the head needs to be protected quite as much; for even if a man should be true-hearted, jet, if a shot should go through his brain, he would not be worth much as a soldier; his body would strew the plain. The head must be taken care of. A great many Christian people never trouble themselves about defending their heads at all. If they get their hearts warmed by their religion thej* think that quite enough. Well; give me above everything else a good warm heart; but, oh, do have that warm heart coupled with a head that is well taken care of. Do you know that with a hot head and a hot heart together you may do a deal of mischief, but with a hot heart and a cool brain you may do a world of service to the Master. Have right doctrine in the head, and then set the soul on fire, and you will soon win the world. There is no standing in that man’s way whose head and heart are both right, but to neglect the head has been a serious mischief with many Christians. They have been almost powerless for usefulness because they have not taken care of their brains. Though they have got to heaven, they have not gained many victories on the road, because their brains have been out of order. They have never been able clearly to understand the doctrines; they have not been able to give a reason for the hope that is in them; they have not, in fact, looked well to the helmet which was to cover their heads.

The text refers us to our head because it speaks of a helmet, and a helmet is of no use to any part except the head. Among other reasons why we should preeerve the head in the day of battle, let us give these. The head is peculiarly liable to the temptations of Satan, of self, and of fame. It is not easy, you know, to stand on a high pinnacle without the brain beginning

98 Ty2)es and Emblems.

to reel; and if God takes a man, and puts him on a high pinnacle of usefulness, he had need to have his head taken care of. If a brother is possessed of a considerable amount of wealth, there is great danger to his soul by reason of his possessions, unless he have a wealth of grace as well as a wealth of gold. If a man is well reported of, though his sphere may not be very large, yet, if everybody praised him, he also will need to have his head well protected, for a little praise would soon make him giddy. The clapping of hands of fools would be enough for a fool to pique himself on. The fining-pot for silver, and praise for the man. If a man can stand commendation, he can stand anything. The severest trial which a zealous Christian has to bear is, probably, the trial which comes from his kind but inconsiderate friends, who would puff him up if they could by telling him what a fine fellow he is. If your friends without will not cheer you, you will probably find a friend within who will flatter you to your heart’s content; and, if you should forget to ask for your meed, the devil will remind you that it is your due. “What a capital sermon you gave us this morning, Mr. Bunyan,” said a friend, where John had been preaching. “You are too late,” said Bunyan, “the devil told me that before I came out of the pulpit.” Yes, and he will be sure to do so; and hence the need of having a helmet to put on the head, that when you are successful, and getting on in life, and friends are speaking well of you, you may not get intoxicated with it. Oh, to have a good, cool holme’: to put on your brain when it begins to get a little hot with praise, so that you may still stand fast, and not be borne down by vanity. O Vanity, Vanity,

Vanity, how many hast thou slain 1 How many who seemed upon the very brink of greatness have stumbled upon this stumbling stone! Men who seemed as though they would enter heaven, but a little bit of honor, some glittering bribe, a golden boon, has turned them aside, and they fell. Take care of you heads, brethren.

And is not the head liable to attacks from scepticism f People who have no brains are not often troubled with doubts, but people who have brains have probably felt that, whether they resolved to use them or not, their brains would use themselves. It was very good of our good fathers to tell us not to read dangerous books, very good of them indeed; but, we do read them, for all that; and, though we tell the young folks sometimes not to read this and that heretical treatise, and we wish they would take our advice, yet, somehow or other, they do get holdpof such things, and will ponder them. Brethren, I do believe that, in such times as these, when everything is so free, and when discussion is so common, we must expect that our young fellows will look at a great many things which they had better leave alone, and their heads will be endangered thereby, for the bullets of scepticism threaten to go right through their brains. Well, what then? As we cannot take Christians out of the way of the bullets, we should give them a helmet to preserve them therefrom. He who has a hope of salvation — a good hope that he is himself saved, a hope that he shall see the face of Christ with joy at last — is not afraid of any of the paltry quibbles of scepticism. He may hear them all, and for a moment be staggered by them, as a soldier might be who had a sudden shock or even a wound, but after a little while he recovers himself, and feels sound enough to enter into the conflict again. Thus the Christian in armor proof can say —

“Should all the forms that men devise

Assault my faith with treacherous art;
I’d call them vanities and lies,
And bind the gospel, to my heart.”

It has been very well observed that a man is not often a very thorough democrat after he gets a little money in the savings bank. Well, I think it is very likely, so soon as a man gets a little stake in his country’s welfare, he begins to be just to the merest extent conservative. And, no sooner does a man get a stake in Christianity, and feel, that he has got salvation in Jesns Christ, than he gets to be very, very conservative of the old-fashioned truth. He cannot give up the Bible then, because it is a broad land of wealth to him. He cannot give up Christ, for he is his Saviour, his salvation. He cannot give up a single promise, because that promise is so dear to his own soul. The helmet of salvation, then, will preserve the head in times of scepticism.

The head, again, is very greatly in dangery/wft the attacks of personal unbelief. Who among us has not doubted his own interest in Christ? Happy for you who are free from such distractions. But, there are seasons with some of us when we turn our title-deeds over, and we are sometimes afraid lest they should not be genuine. There are times when, if we could, we would give a world to know that we are Christ’s, for we cannot

“Read our title clear
To mansions in the skies.”

Well, beloved, this is very dangerous to our heads; but the man who has got the helmet of a right, sound, God-given hope of salvation, who has received from God the Holy Spirit such a helmet as I am going to describe by-and-by, may be of good cheer. These doubts and fears may distress him for a little while, but he knows the precautions advised for his safeguard, as he is neither timid nor rash. In the midst of Satan’s accusations, the uprising of his old corruptions, the infirmities of the flesh, and the allurements of the world, he stands calm and unmoved, because he wears as a helmet the hope of salvation.

Nor are these all the dangers to which the head is exposed. Some persons are attacked by threatenings from the world. The world brings down its doublehandled sword with a tremendous blow upon the heads of many Christians. “You will suffer the loss of all things for Christ if you are such a fanatic as to believe the Bible and consort with the saints. You will be poor yourself, your children will want bread, your wife will be worse than a widow, if you are such a fool.” “Ah,” says the Christian, “but I have a hope of salvation.” So the blow, when it comes, does not go through his head, but just falls on the helmet, and the world’s sword gets blunted. “I can afford to be poor,” said Dr. Gill, when one of his subscribers threatened to give up his seat, and would not attend, if the doctor preached such-and-such a doctrine. So says the Christian, “I can afford to be poor; I can afford to be despised; I have in heaven a better and more enduring substance.” So, by the use of this blessed helmet, he is protected from the threatenings of the world.

We want our young people to wear this helmet, too, because of the errors of the times” The errors of the times are many. What with scepticism, and with superstition, they are tempted on the one side and on the other. This and that new book or old fable is cried up. “Lo here,” and “Lo there.” By unscrupulous authors and by designing priests there will be many misled who are not the people of God. “If it were possible, they would deceive the very elect.” But the elect are not to be deceived. Their heads are not vulnerable to these errors, for they wear the hope of salvation, and they are not afraid of all the “isrns” or schisms that aggrieve the professor and aggravate the profane. The man knows he is saved. Once get to know Christ personally for yourselves, to believe that he loved you and gave himself for you, and to rejoice that you are forgiven and justified through him, then, though the world will count you stupid and obstinate, you will stand firm, and be able to resist all its sarcasm and its ridicule. He who has made a refuge of Jesus Christ will stand safe whatever errors may invade the land.

They tell us that the Church of God is in great danger, because Popery will overspread the country. Peradventure it should; that it will overspread the Church of God — no; I know far better than that. The Church of God can never be in danger. Every man in whom is the life of God would be as ready to die to-morrow for the truth as our forefathers were in the Marian days. Rest assured there would be found men to stand at the burning faggot still if the times required them, and our prisons would not long be without heavenly-minded tenants of the truth needed to be defended by suffering, even unto death. There is danger, great danger; there never was such danger in modern times ot Popery overspreading the land as now. But there is no danger to the man who has his helmet on. Let the arrows fly thick as hail, and let the foes have all the political power that they can, and all tle prestiye of antiquity that they may; a little phalanx of true-hearted Christians will still stand their ground in the very centre of the onslaught, and cut their way to glory and to victory through whole hosts, because their heads are guarded with the heavenly helmet of the hope of salvation. Soldiers of Christ, take care of your heads.

III. God has provided a covering for your heads, let us therefore now CONSIDER THE HELMET WITH WHICH

HE WOULD HAVE YOUR HEADS PROTECTED.

‘” The hope of salvation!” This is not the hope wo sometimes speak about, the hope that salvation is possible which may encourage every sinner to knock, to seek, to ask — yea, to pray importunately for mercy. This helmet is made up of an actual hope that, being already saved in Christ Jesus, you should abide unto eternal life. It is a personal hope, founded upon personal conviction, and is wrought in us by the Holy Spirit.

To begin, then, describing this helmet. Who is its giver? You ask our friend the soldier where he gets his regimentals from, and he answers that he gets them from the government stores. He gets his regimentals from Her Majesty, and from the monarch himself we must get our helmets. If any of you construct helmets of hope for yourselves, they will be of uo use to you in the day of battle. The true helmet of hope must come from the heavenly arsenal. You must go to the Divine store-house, for unto God belongeth salvation, and the hope of salvation must be given to you by his free grace. A hope of salvation is not purchasable. Our great King does not sell his armor, but gives it freely to all who enlist. They take the bounty and accept the faith. They trust Christ, and they are enlisted, then the armor is given them gratis. From head to foot they are arrayed by grace.

Do you ask, who is maker of this helmet? Weapons are valued often according to the maker. A known maker gets his own price for his articles. Armorers of old took much trouble with the ancient helmets, because a man’s life might depend upon that valuable means of defence. So we have here the name of God the Holy Ghost upon this helmet. A hope of salvation is the work of God the Holy Spirit in our soul. It is the Spirit who brings us to Jesus, shows us our need of him, and gives us faith in him; arid it is that same Spirit who enables us to hope that we shall endure to the end, and enter into eternal life. Be not satisfied with a hope that is natural, but have a hope that is supernatural. Rest not satisfied with that which is made in the workshop of nature; go not to those who buy and sell for themselves, but go to the blessed Spirit, who giveth freely, and upbraideth not.

Would you inquire further, of what metal this helmet is made? It is made of hope, we are told; but it is of the utmost consequence that it be a good hope. Beware of getting a base hope, a helmet made of paltry metal. There were some helmets they used to wear in the olden times which looked very well, but they were of no more use than brown paper hats; and when a soldier got into a light with one of these on, the sword went through his skull. Get a good helmet, one made of the right metal. This is what a Christian’s hope is made of — he believes that Christ came into the world to save sinners; he trusts Christ to save him; and he hopes that when Christ comes he shall reign with him; that when the trumpet sounds he shall rise with Christ, and that in heaven he shall have a secure dwelling-place at the right hand of the Father. This hope is made up of proper and fitting deductions from certain truthful statements. That Christ died for sinners is true; that he died to save all who trust in him is true; that / trust in him is true; therefore, that I am saved is true; and, being saved, that I shall inherit all his promises is a matter of course. Some people have a hope, but they do not know where they get it from, nor do they know a reason for it. When people die, you hear it said of one and another, “I hope he is gone to heaven.” Well, I wish he may have gone; but I dare not say of some that I hope so, because hope must have a reason. An anchor is of no use without its fluke. It must be able to hold fast. It must have — at any rate, the modern anchor must have — some weight about it with which it can hold to the bottom. Hope must have its fluke, too; it must have its reason; it must have its weight. When I say I hope so-and-so, I am foolish lor hoping it, if I have not a reason for hoping. If yuu were to say you hoped the person sitting next you would give you a thousand pounds, it would be a most absurd hope. You may wish it if you like, but what ground

106 Types and Enibleim.

have you for the hope? But if somebody owes you a thousand pounds, and you have his acknowledgment of the debt, you may then very well say that you hope it will be paid, for you have a legitimate right to expect it. Such is the Christian’s hope. God has promised to save those who believe. Lord, I believe it; thou hast promised to save me, and I hope thou wilt, I know thou wilt. The Christian’s hope hope is not a fancy, not a silly desire. It did not spring up in the night like Jonah’s gourd, nor will it wither in a night. The Christian’s hope is something that will bear a hard blow from a heavy club, or a smart cut from a sharp sword. It is made of good metal. John Bunyan said of a certain sword that it was “a true Jerusalem blade,” and I may call this a true Jerusalem helmet, for he that wears is need not fear.

Having shown the metal of which the nelmet is made, let me now describe the strength of the helmet. It is so strong, that under all sorts of assaults, he who wears it is invulnerable. Recollect David, when pressed with the troubles of the world on every side. His enemies thought they had certainly ruined him. He himself half thought he should die, and he tells us that he should have fainted. And likely enough he would, only he had a bottle of cordial with him of which faith was the main ingredient. He says,“/ had fainted unless I had believed” But, just at the time when he thought he would faint and die, he revived. Suddenly the old hero that slew Goliath, made all his enemies ily before him as he cried, “Why art thou cast down, O my soul, and why art thou disquieted within me 1 Hope thou in God.” And he laid about him right and

The lldmet. 107

left, as he should. “I shall yet praise him who is the health of my countenance and my God.” “Hope thou In God,” Christian. Oh, that blessed word HOPE! You know what the New Zealanders call hope; they call it in their language “the swimming thought,” because it always floats and never sinks. You cannot drown it; it always keeps its head above the wave. When you think you have drowned the Christian’s hope, up it conies all dripping from the brine, and cries again, ‘• Hope thou in God, tor I shall yet praise him!” Hope is the nightingale that sings in the night; faith is the lark that mounts up towards heaven; but hope is the nightingale that cheers the valley in the darkness. O Christian, be thankful that you have so strong a helmet as this, which can bear all assaults, and can keep you unscathed in the midst of the fray!

This hope of salvation is a helmet which will not come off. It is of main importance, you know, to have a helmet that cannot be knocked off in the first scrim mage. That is why our policemen are dressed differently from what they used to be, because their hats used to get knocked off. So it is with a commonplace hope, it fails him in an extremity; but the Christiau wears a helmet that he cannot get off anyhow. There was once a good soldier of Jesus Christ — a woman — some women are among the best soldiers of Christ; his true Amazons. This good woman had been much narassed by a sceptical person; and when very much confused with some of his knotty questions, she turned round and said,” I cannot answer you, sir, but neither can you answer me, for I have a something within me that you cannot understand, which makes me feel that

I could not give up what I know of Christ for all the world.” The world can neither give nor take away the hope of a Christian. It comes from God, and he will never withdraw it, for his gifts and calling are without repentance. Once let this helmet be put on and he will never remove it, but we shall hope on ano hope ever, until we shall end these struggles, see hi» face, and reap his promises.

I should like to go round amongst this regiment, as the commanding officers sometimes do, to have a look at yon. The helmet is an old-fashioned kind of armor. In old days, the lieutenants and other officers, when they went round the regiment, used to look, not only to see that the men had their helmets, but to see that they had oiled them; for in those times they used to oil their helmets to make them shine, and to keep the various joints and buckles in good order. No rust was ever allowed on the helmets, and it is said that when the soldiers marched out, with their brazen helmets and their white plumes, they shone most brilliantly in the sun. David speaks, you know, of “anoint ing the shield,” He was speaking of a brazen shield which had to be anointed with oil. Now, when God anoints his people’s hope, when he gives them the oil of joy, their hope begins to shine bright in the light of the Saviour’s countenance, and what a fine array of soldiers they are then! Satan trembles at the gleaming of their swords; he cannot endure to look upon their helmets. But some of you do not keep your hope clear; you do not keep it bright; it gets rusty and unfit for use, and then, ere long, it gets to sit uncom fortably upon yon, and you get weary with the fight.

0 Holy Spirit, anoint our heads with fresh oil, and let thy saints go forth terrible as an army with banners.

Do not let it be overlooked that the helmet was generally considered to be a place of honor. The man put his plume in his helmet, he wore his crest frequently there, and in the thick of the fight the captain’s plume was seen in the midst of the smoke and dust of battle, and the men pressed te the place where they saw it Now, the Christian’s hope is his honor and his glory.

1 must not be ashamed of my hope; I must wear it for beauty and for dignity, and he who has a right good hope will bea leader to others. Others will see it, and will tight with renewed courage; and where he hews a lane of foes, they will follow him, even as he follows his Lord and Mastpr, who has overcome, and sits down upon his Father’s throne. 1 hope there are many Christians here who keep their helmets bright, and that there are many more who desire to have such helmets to protect themselves and to grace their profession.

IV. ALAS! THERE ARE SOME WHO HAVE NO HELMETS. The reason is obvious. They are not Christ’s soldiers.

Of course the Lord Jesus does not provide anybody with armor but those in hi own service. But Satan knows how to give you a helmet too. His helmets are very potent ones. Though the sword of the Spirit can go right through them, nothing else can. He can give, and he has given some of you, a head-piece that covers your entire skull — a thick head-piece of indifference; so that no matter what is preached, you heed it not. “What do I care?” say you, and that is your helmet.

Then he puts a piece in the front of the helmet called

110 Types und Emblems.

a brazen forehead and a brow of brass. “What do 1 care?” was your cry. He takes care to fit the helmet right over your eyes, so that you cannot see; yea, though hell itself be before you, you do not see it. “AV hat do I care?” Then, he also knows how so to fit the helmet that it acts as a gag to your mouth, so that you never pray. Though you can swear through it, you cannot pray through it. Still you keep to your old cry, “What do I care?”

Ah, it is not very likely that any sword which I wield will get at your head! Arguments will not move you, for that is a question that cannot very well be argued — “What do 1 care?” I pray God the Holy Spirit to get at your head, notwithstanding that horrible helmet; for, if not, God has a way of dealing with such as you are. When you come to die, you will sing another song! When you come to lie upon a bed of sickness, and the grim day of eternity is in view, you will not be able to say quite so gayly as you do now, “What do I care?” And, when the trumpet rings through earth and heaven, and your body starts up from your grave, and you see the great Judge upon his throne, you will not be able to say then, “What do I care?” Your head will then he bare to the pitiless tempest of divine wrath. Bare-headed, you must be exposed to the everlasting storm that shall descend upon you. And, when the great angel binds you up with your fellows in bundles to burn, you will feel that you are not able to say. “What do I care?” for cares will come upon you like a wild deluge, when you are banished from his presence, and all hope is gone!

Oh, I would you would take off that helmet! May God grant yon grace to unbuckle it now, never to put it on aain! Do care. Yon are not a fool, mv friend,

O * i

are you? It is only a fool who says, “What do I care?” Surely you care about your soul; surely hell is worth escaping from; surely heaven is worth winning; surely that cross on which our Saviour died is worth thinking of; surely that poor soul of yours is worth caring about! Do, I pray you, think, and not go hastily on. Oh, may Jesus Christ, who died for such as you are, bring you to trust him; and then, unbuckling all that evil armor of “What do I care?” you will bow before his cross, and kiss his hands, and he will put upon you the golden helmet of a hope of salvation, and you will rise, one of the King’s own soldiers, to fight his battles, and win an immortal wreath ol everlasting victory. May it be so with every one of us,