{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_44439/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_44439","id":"gutenberg_44439","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/44439","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Sermons"],"text":"Transcriber's note:\n\nText enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).\n\nSmall capital text has been replaced with all capitals.\n\nText enclosed by equal signs is in bold face (=bold=).\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\n[Illustration: cover]\n\n[Illustration: titlepage]\n\n\n\n\n  The World's Great Sermons\n\n  VOLUME VI\n\n  H. W. BEECHER TO PUNSHON\n\n\n\n\n  THE\n  WORLD'S\n  GREAT\n  SERMONS\n\n  COMPILED BY\n\n  GRENVILLE KLEISER\n\n  Formerly of Yale Divinity School Faculty;\n  Author of \"How to Speak\n  in Public,\" Etc.\n\n  With Assistance from Many of the Foremost\n  Living Preachers and Other Theologians\n\n\n  INTRODUCTION BY\n\n  LEWIS O. BRASTOW, D.D.\n\n  Professor Emeritus of Practical Theology\n  in Yale University\n\n  IN TEN VOLUMES\n\n  VOLUME VI--H. W. BEECHER TO PUNSHON\n\n  FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY\n  NEW YORK and LONDON\n\n\n\n\n  COPYRIGHT, 1908, BY\n\n  FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY\n\n  _Printed in the United States of America_\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\nVOLUME VI\n\n\n                                             Page\n  H. W. BEECHER (1813-1887).\n  Immortality                                   1\n\n  CHAPIN (1814-1880).\n  Nicodemus: The Seeker after Religion         27\n\n  STANLEY (1815-1881).\n  In Memoriam--Thomas Carlyle                  51\n\n  VAUGHAN (1816-1897).\n  God Calling to Man                           67\n\n  NEWMAN HALL (1816-1902).\n  Christian Victory                            85\n\n  ROBERTSON (1816-1853).\n  The Loneliness of Christ                    111\n\n  HITCHCOCK (1817-1887).\n  Eternal Atonement                           131\n\n  KINGSLEY (1819-1875).\n  The Shaking of the Heavens and the Earth    147\n\n  CAIRD (1820-1898).\n  Religion in Common Life                     167\n\n  STORRS (1821-1900).\n  The Permanent Motive in Missionary Work     195\n\n  PUNSHON (1824-1881).\n  Zeal in the Cause of Christ                 219\n\n\n\n\nHENRY WARD BEECHER\n\nIMMORTALITY\n\n\n\n\nBIOGRAPHICAL NOTE\n\n\nHENRY WARD BEECHER, preacher, orator, lecturer, writer, editor,\nand reformer, was born at Litchfield, Connecticut, in 1813. He\nwas by nature and training a great pulpit orator. Mr. Beecher\nkept himself in perfect physical condition for his work. He has\ndescribed a course of vocal exercises which he pursued in the open\nair for a period of three years. \"The drill I underwent,\" he says,\n\"produced, not a rhetorical manner, but a flexible instrument, that\naccommodated itself readily to every kind of thought and every shape\nof feeling.\"\n\nHe had deep sympathy for all men, and this with his intense dramatic\npower often carried him into the wildest and most exalted flights\nof oratory. Phillips Brooks styled him the greatest preacher in\nAmerica, and he is generally regarded as the most highly gifted of\nmodern preachers. He was fearless, patriotic, clear-headed, witty,\nand self-sacrificing. Dr. Wilkinson calls him \"the greatest pulpit\norator the world ever saw.\" He died in 1887.\n\n\n\n\nH. W. BEECHER\n\n1813-1887\n\nIMMORTALITY[1]\n\n  [1] From \"Plymouth Pulpit Sermons.\" By permission of the\n  Congregational Sunday-School and Publishing Society.\n\n_If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most\nmiserable._--1 Cor. xv., 19.\n\n\nThis is not the declaration of a universal principle: it is\nbiographical and personal. And yet, there is in it a principle\nof prime importance. It is true that Paul and his compeers had\nsacrificed everything that was dear to man for the sake of Christ.\nPaul had given up the place that he held among his countrymen, and\nthe things which surely awaited him. He had consented to be an\nexile. Loving Palestine and the memory of his fathers, as only a Jew\ncould love, he found himself an outcast, and despised everywhere\nby his own people. And the catalog that he gives of the sufferings\nwhich he felt keenly; which perhaps would not have been felt by a\nman less susceptible than he, but which were no less keen in his\ncase--that catalog shows how much he had given up for Christ. And if\nit should turn out that after all he had followed a mere fable, a\nmyth; that Christ was but a man; that, dying, He had come to an end;\nthat He stayed dead, and that there was no resurrection, no future,\nbut only that past through which he waded, and that present in which\nhe was suffering, then, surely, it would be true that of all men he\nwas most miserable.\n\nThis is the biographical view; but it may be said of all men, in\nthis respect, that no persons can so ill afford to lose faith of\nimmortality as those who have had all their affections burnished,\ndeepened and rendered sensitive by the power of Christianity.\nWhen Christianity has had the education of generation after\ngeneration, and has shaped the style of its manhood, and ordained\nthe institutions by which its affections have been enlarged and\npurified; when, in short, generations of men have been legitimately\nthe children of Christianity, to take away from them the faith of\nimmortality would be a cruelty which could have no parallel in the\namount of suffering which it would entail.\n\nIt is not necessarily true that men without a hope of Christianity\nwould have no incitement to virtue--certainly not in the ordinary\nway in which it is put to us. Abstractly, it is said that virtue\nis its own reward--and it is. If there was enough of it to amount\nto anything, it would be a great, an exceeding great, reward; but\nwhere it is a spark; a germ; where it is struggling for its own\nexistence; where it bears but a few ripe fruits, the reward is\nhardly worth the culture. If all that we get is what we have in this\nlife, it is but little.\n\nMany men are favorably organized and favorably situated; they have\nan unyearning content; things seem good enough for them; and they do\nnot understand why it is that persons should desire immortality and\nglory--that is, at first. In general, I think there are few persons\nthat live long in life who do not, sooner or later, come to a point\nin which they wake up to the consciousness of a need of this kind.\nIt is not always true in the case of persons of refined moral and\nintellectual culture that they are conscious of needing a belief in\nimmortality; but a belief in immortality is the unavoidable result\nand the indispensable requirement of all true manhood. When you\nlook at growth, not in each particular case, but largely, as it\ndevelops itself in communities; when you consider it, not only in a\nsingle individual, but in whole communities, as they develop from\nchildhood to manhood, or from barbarism through semi-civilization to\ncivilization and refinement, the law of development is always away\nfrom animal life and its sustaining appetites and passions toward\nthe moral and the intellectual. That is the direction in which\nunfolding takes place.\n\nThe naturalist watches the insect, and studies all the stages\nthrough which it goes, till it becomes a perfect insect. We look at\na seed, and see how it develops stem and leaf and blossom all the\nway through, till we find out what the plant is in its final and\nperfect condition. And in studying men to know what is the perfect\ncondition of manhood, looking at them from the beginning to the end,\nwhich way does manhood lie, in the direction of the bodily appetites\nand senses, or in the other direction?\n\nMen come into life perfect animals. There is very little that\nculture does in that direction, giving them a little more or a\nlittle less use of themselves, as the case may be. That which we\nmean when we speak of developing manhood in a child, is something\nmore than the development of symmetry of form and power of physical\norganization. When we speak of the civilization and refinement\nof the race at large, development does not mean bodily power or\nbodily skill: it means reason; moral sense; imagination; profounder\naffection; subtler, purer, sweeter domestic relations. Manhood\ngrows away from bodily conditions, without ever leaving them. The\nbody becomes a socket, and the soul is a lamp in it. And if you\nlook narrowly at what we mean by growth in mankind, whether it be\napplied to the individual or to the race, you will find that we mean\nan unfolding which takes a man away from the material toward that\nwhich is subtler, more spiritual, existing outside of the ordinary\nsenses, tho acting from them, as something better than bone and\nmuscle, nerve and tissue.\n\nAll development, then, is from the animal toward the spiritual and\nthe invisible. This is the public sentiment of mankind even in the\nlower forms of society. What are considered heroic traits, the\nthings which bring admiration to men, if narrowly examined will\nbe found to be not the things which belong to men as brutes--tho\nthese things may be employed by them as instruments. Even in the\ncases of such men as Samson and Hercules, who were rude, brute\nmen, it was not their strength that drew admiration to them: it\nwas their heroism; it was their patriotism; it was that which they\ndid by their strength for their kind, and not for themselves. And\nin lower societies it is courage, it is self-devotion, it is the\nwant of fear, it is the higher form of animal life, that attracts\nadmiration. But as we develop out of barbarous into civilized\nconditions, we admire men, not because they can lift so much,\nor throw such heavy weights, or endure such hardships of body.\nAdmiration on these accounts has its place; but higher than these is\nthe power of thought, the power of planning, the power of executing,\nthe power of living at one point so as to comprehend in the effects\nproduced all circuits of time in the future. Thought-power;\nemotion; moral sense; justice; equity in all its forms; higher\nmanhood, and its branches, which stretch up into the atmosphere\nand reach nearest to the sun--these are something other than those\nqualities which develop earliest, and are lowest--nearest to the\nground.\n\nTrue manhood, then, has its ripeness in the higher faculties.\nWithout disdaining the companionship of the body the manhood of man\ngrows away from it--in another direction. There is not simply the\nripening of the physical that is in man; but there is, by means of\nthe physical, the ripening of the intellectual, the emotional, the\nmoral, the esthetic life, as well as the whole spiritual nature.\n\nWhen reason and moral sense are developed, there will inevitably\nspring up within a man an element the value of which consists in\nperpetuating things--in their continuance. It is spontaneous and\nuniversal for one to seek to perpetuate, to extend life. I do not\nmean by this that one wants to live a great while; but men are\nperpetually under the unconscious influence of this in their nature:\nthe attempt to give form and permanence to that which is best in\ntheir manhood. We build, to be sure, primarily, to cover ourselves\nfrom the elements; but we very soon cease to build for that only:\nwe not merely build for protection from cold and from wet, but we\nbuild for gratification. We build to gratify the sense of beauty,\nthe sense of convenience, and the sense of love. And we go on beyond\nthat: we build in order that we may send down to those who are to\ncome after us a memorial of our embodied, incarnated thoughts. In\nother words, when men build, they seek, by incarnation, to render\nthings permanent which have existed only as thoughts or transient\nemotions. There is a tendency to incarnate the fugitive elements in\nmen, and give them permanence. And the element of continuing is one\nof the elements which belong to the higher manhood.\n\nThis throws light upon the material growths of society. Men strive\nto perpetuate thoughts and feelings which are evanescent unless they\nare born into matter. Men build things for duration. There is this\nunconscious following out of things to make them last; to give them\nlong periods. And it opens up to men the sense of their augmented\nbeing. Largeness of being is indissolubly connected with extended\ntime of being.\n\nWe admire the pyramids, not because they have been associated with\nso many histories, but because they have stood so many ages. We\nadmire old trees, not because so many tribes have sat under them,\nnor because so many events have taken place beneath them, but simply\nbecause they have age with them. For there are mute, inexplicable\nfeelings connected with the mere extension of time which belong to\nthe higher development of manhood in us. Frangible things are of\nless value than things that are infrangible. Things that last are of\nmore value, on the same plane, than their congeners are that do not\nlast.\n\nWho can equal the pictures which are painted on the panes of glass\nin our winter rooms? Where can you find a Lambineau, or any painter\nwho can give a mountain scenery such as we have for nothing, every\nmorning, when we wake up, and such as the sun outside, or the stove\ninside, destroys before ten o'clock? These pictures are not valued\nas are those which are painted on canvas, and which are not half\nso good; but the element of enduring is with the latter, while the\nelement of evanescence is with the former. Tho the pictures on the\npane are finer than those on the canvas, they lack the element of\ntime, on which value so largely depends. The soul craves, hungers\nfor, this quality of continuance as an element for measuring the\nvalue of things. This element of time is somewhat felt in the\nearlier conditions of humanity; but it grows with the development of\nmen, and attaches itself to every part of human life.\n\nI never saw a diamond that was so beautiful as are the dew-drops\nwhich I see on my lawn in summer. What is the difference between a\ndew-drop and a diamond? One goes in a moment; it flashes and dies;\nbut the other endures; and its value consists in its endurance.\nThere are hundreds of things which are as beautiful as a diamond in\ntheir moment; but the endurance of the diamond is measured by ages,\nand not by moments, and so carries on the value.\n\nI do not draw these reasonings very close as yet--I do not desire to\nput too much emphasis upon them; but I think you will see that there\nis a drift in them, and that they will bear, at last, an important\nrelation to this question of immortality. The element of manhood\ncarries with it a very powerful sense of the value of existence.\nThe desire to live is a blind instinct. A happy experience brings\nto this instinct many auxiliaries--the expectation of pleasure; the\nwish to complete unfinished things; the clinging affection to those\nthat have excited love; and habits of enterprise.\n\nBesides all these, is a development of the sense of value in simply\nbeing. We have said that in external matters the continuity of being\nis an element of value in the judgment which mankind at large have\nput upon things. We say that the same is true in respect to the\ninward existence--to manhood itself. The savage cares very little\nfor life. He lives for to-day; and in every to-day he lives for\nthe hour. Time is of the least importance to him. The barbarian\ndiffers from the savage in this: that he lives to-day for to-morrow,\nperhaps, but not for next year. The semi-civilized man lives for\nnext year; but only for the year, or for years. The civilized man\nbegins to live in the present for the future. And the Christian\ncivilized man begins to live with a sense of the forever.\n\nThe extension of the sense of time goes on with the development of\nmanhood in men. The sweet, the tender, the loving, the thoughtful,\nthe intellectual, live not simply with a sense of life as a\npleasure-bringer: there grows up in them, with their development\ntoward manhood, an intrinsic sense of the value of being itself.\nThe soul knows the cargo that it carries. It knows that that cargo\nis destined to immortality. As men are conscious of seeing more,\nof thinking more, and of feeling more; as thought becomes more\nprecious; as emotion becomes deeper and more valuable; so men more\nand more feel that they cannot afford to have such things go to\nwaste.\n\nA man who takes in his hands a lump of mud and molds it to some\npleasing form, cares but little when, dropping it, he sees it\nflatten on the ground. The man that grinds a crystal, and sees it\nbroken, thinks of it for a moment, perhaps, with regret, but soon\nforgets it. No one, however, can see an organized thing, having its\nuses, and indicating exquisite skill and long experience, dashed\nto pieces without pain. But what is anything that is organized in\nlife worth in comparison with the soul of a man? And if that soul\nbe pure, and sweet, and deep, and noble, and active, and fruitful,\nwho can, without a pang, look at it, and think that it must in an\ninstant go to nothing, dissolving again as an icicle from a roof in\nthe spring?\n\nThe feeling is not the fruit of mere reflection. It is instinctive.\nIt is universal. Men do not cultivate it on purpose. They cannot\nhelp having it. No man of moral culture can regard human life as\nwithout immortality except with profound melancholy. No man that is\nsusceptible to reflectiveness can bear to think of man's existence\nhere without the bright background of another life.\n\nThe sense of the continuity of existence is grounded in men, and\ngrows with their refinement and development and strength, and gives\ncolor to their life, and change to their opinions, it may be.\n\nTo men who have developed moral sense and intellectual culture,\nevery element of value in life is made precious by some conscious or\nsome unconscious element of time and continuance. It is the nature\nof our better faculties, in their better states, to place a man in\nsuch relations to everything that is most precious to him, that\nit gives him pleasure in the proportion in which it seems to be\ncontinuous and permanent, and gives him pain in the proportion in\nwhich it seems to be evanescent and perishing.\n\nWe are building a crystal character with much pain and self-denial;\nand it is to be built as bubbles are blown? What is finer in\nline than the bubble? What is more airy? Where are pictures more\nexquisite, where are colors more tender and rich and beautiful--and\nwhere is there anything that is born so near to its end as a\nbubble? Is the character which we are building with so much pain\nand suffering and patience, with so much burden of conscience, and\nwith so much aspiration; is the character which we are forming in\nthe invisible realm of the soul--is that but a bubble? Is that only\na thin film which reflects the transient experiences of a life of\njoy or sadness, and goes out? Then, what is life worth? If I had no\nfunction but that of a pismire; if I were a beetle that rolled in\nthe dirt, and yet were clothed with a power of reflection, and knew\nwhat the depths of feeling were, what intense emotions were, and\nwhat struggling and yearning were; if, being a mere insect, I had\nall the works in the intellect of man, and all the aspiration that\ngoes with spiritual elements; if I were but a leaf-cutter, a bug in\nthe soil, or about the same thing on a little larger pattern, and\nwere to be blotted out at death, what would be the use of my trying\nto grow? If by refining and whetting our faculties they become more\nsusceptible to pleasure, they become equally susceptible to pain.\nAnd in this great, grinding, groaning world, pain is altogether out\nof proportion to pleasure, in an exquisite temperament. The finer\nmen are the better they are, if they are forever; but the finer men\nare the worse they are if they are only for a day; for they have a\ndisproportion of sensibility to suffering over and above present\nremuneration and conscious enjoyment.\n\nMen feel an intrinsic sense of personality and personal worth. They\nhave self-esteem, which is the only central, spinal, manly faculty\nwhich gives them a sense of personal identity and personal value,\nand which is an auxiliary counselor of conscience itself. This sense\nof \"I\" demands something more than a short round of physical life,\nto be followed by extinction. I am too valuable to perish so; and\nevery step in life has been training me in the direction of greater\nvalue. As men grow broader, and stronger, and finer, and deeper, and\nsweeter, they become more and more conscious of the intrinsic value\nof their being, and demand for themselves a harbor in order that\nthey may not be wrecked or foundered.\n\nNor do I think that there can be found, to any considerable extent,\nor developed, friendships which shall not, with all their strength\nand with all their depth, resist the conception of dissolution or\nof fading. For friendships are not casual likings. Friendships are\nnot merely the interchange of good nature, and the ordinary friendly\noffices of good neighborhood. These things are friendly, but they\ndo not comprise friendship. Two trees may grow contiguous, and throw\ntheir shade one over upon the other; but they never touch nor help\neach other; and their roots quarrel for the food that is in the\nground. But two vines, growing over a porch, meet each other, and\ntwine together, and twist fiber into fiber and stem into stem, and\ntake shape from each other, and are substantially one. And such are\nfriendships. Now, one cannot have his life divided as two trees\nare. He cannot enter into partnership with others, and be conscious\nthat that partnership shall be but for an hour or for a moment. The\nsanctity, the honor, the exaltation, the exhilaration of a true and\nmanly friendship lies in the thought of its continuance. There can\nbe no deep friendship which does not sign for endlessness.\n\nStill more is this true of love: not that rudimentary form\nwhich seeks lower fruitions, and which is often but little more\nthan passion done up in friendship; but that higher love which\nmanifests itself chiefly in the spiritual realm; that love which\nis not forever asking, but forever giving; that love which is not\ncentripetal, but centrifugal; that love which, like a mother's,\ngives for the pleasure of giving; that love which reveres; that love\nwhich looks up; that love which seeks to exalt its object by doing\nwhat is pleasant and noble; that love which demands continuance,\nelevation, yea, grandeur, it may be, in the thing beloved. How\nlittle will such a love tolerate the idea of evanescence, the\ndread of discontinuing! Can such a love do other than yearn for\nimmortality?\n\nSo then, if you take the thought, it is this: that if men develop,\nthey come under the dominion of higher faculties; and that it is\nthen their nature to stamp on all their occupations, on their\nself-consciousness, on the whole development of their affections,\nthe need of continuance, of immortality. There are, therefore, in\nthe growth of the mind itself, as a department of nature, these\nelements of conviction. The mind cannot do other than develop in\nitself a faith in immortality.\n\nIt may be said, and it sometimes is said, that the origin of the\nbelief of existence out of the body, of spiritual existence, may\nbe traced directly back to the dreams of the barbarous ages, to\na period when men were so low that they did not recognize the\ndifference between a dream and a waking reality--to a time when\npersons dreamed that their friends came back to them, and waked up\nand believed that they had been back. Thus, it is said, began the\nthought of continuity of life after death. For my part, I do not\ncare how it began. The question is not how it started; the question\nis, What becomes of it now that it has begun? No matter how it was\nborn, what purpose is it to serve? What is it adapted to do? How\nis it calculated to influence our manhood? In what way shall it be\nemployed to lead man God-ward? How shall it be used to work most\neffectually in the direction of civilization and refinement? It so\nfits every human soul, that men will not let it go. They cling to it\nwith their inward and best nature.\n\nAll experiences of human life fall in with this tendency of the\nmind. When men look out upon the incoherent and unmannerly course\nof things in time, I can understand how, believing in the future,\nthey may live with patience; but in every age of the world where\nthe clear light of immortality has not shone, men have mostly been\ndiscouraged, have been generally indifferent to public superiority,\nand have taken no interest in things done for the sake of humanity.\nSuch is the worthlessness of time, to the thought of those that\nhave no faith in the future, that they have cared for little except\npresent physical enjoyment. And on the whole, when such men crowd\ntogether, and tribes take the place of individuals, or kingdoms\ntake the place of tribes, with all their complications in the\nworking out of their clashing results, they look upon human life,\nand feel that the world is not worth living for. Things are so\nuncertain, products are in such disproportion to their causes, or\nto the expectations of men, that if there is to be nothing but this\nlife, then, \"Eat, drink and be merry, for to-morrow we die,\" is\nnot only the philosophy of the epicurean, but the temptation of the\nmost wise and frugal and self-restraining. The nature of life to a\nman who is highly educated requires that he should believe in the\ncontinuity and existence of the myriads that he sees in such a state\nof quarreling infelicity and wretchedness in this mortal condition.\nThe utter futility of the best part of man's life here, the total\nbankruptcy of his best endeavors, the worthlessness of his career\nfrom the material standpoint, makes it imperative on him to believe\nthat he shall have another chance in another sphere of being.\n\nIs it enough to have been born, to have lived till one is of age,\nand then to be launched out to founder in mid-ocean? Is it enough\nthat one should devote the best part of his life to the building\nof a character, only to see the fabric which he has constructed\ntumbling about his ears? Is this enough in the day of distress\nand bankruptcy? Is it enough, in the time when a man's ambitions\nare crossed, and the sky is dark, and he can do nothing but stand\namid the ruins of his hopes and expectations? Is not the thought\nrevolting to every instinct of manhood?\n\nBut if there is another life; if all our labor has this value in\nit, that while a man is building up his outward estate, if it is\ncertain that the man himself will live, no matter what becomes of\nhis property and his reputation, then all his endeavors have endless\nscope, and his life becomes redeemable and radiant.\n\nNowhere else so much as in the realm of grief, I think, is the\nquestion of immortality interpreted. It is true that the first shock\nof overwhelming grief sometimes drives faith out of the mind; that\nit sometimes staggers the reason; that it sometimes dispossesses\nthe moral sense of its accustomed health, and leaves the mind in\nweakness. As in a fever, the natural eye can see nothing aright,\nand things then seem to dance in the air, and take on grotesque\nforms, so persons who are bewildered with first sorrow oftentimes\nsee things amiss. And there is no skepticism which is so deep and\npulseless as that which often takes possession of people in the\nfirst great overmastering surprize and shock of grief. But after\none had recovered a little, and the nerve has come to its wonted\nsensibility, the faith of immortality returns. There is that in\nevery soul which knows what is the strength of life and noble deeds\nand aspirations; and therefore there is that in every soul which\ncalls out for immortality.\n\nI cannot believe, I will not believe, when I walk upon the clod,\nthat it is my mother that I tread under foot. She that bore me, she\nthat every year more than gave birth to me out of her own soul's\naspiration--I will not believe that she is dust. Everything within\nme revolts at the idea.\n\nDo two persons walk together in an inseparable union, mingling their\nbrightest and noblest thoughts, striving for the highest ideal, like\nflowers that grow by the side of each other, breathing fragrance\neach on the other, and shining in beauty each for the other; are\ntwo persons thus twined together and bound together for life, until\nin some dark hour one is called and the other is left; and does\nthe bleeding heart go down to the grave and say, \"I return dust to\ndust?\" Was that dust, then? That trustworthiness; that fidelity;\nthat frankness of truth; that transparent honesty; that heroism\nof love; that disinterestedness; that fitness and exquisiteness\nof taste; that fervor of love; that aspiration; that power of\nconviction; that piety; that great hope in God--were all these\nelements in the soul of the companion that had disappeared but just\nso many phenomena of matter? And have they already collapsed and\ngone, like last year's flowers struck with frost, back again to the\nmold? In the grief of such an hour one will not let go the hope of\nresurrection.\n\nCan a parent go back from the grave where he has laid his children\nand say, \"I shall never see them more?\" Even as far back as the dim\ntwilight in which David lived, he said, \"Thou shalt not come to me,\nbut I shall go to thee\"; and is it possible for the parental heart\nto stand in our day by the side of the grave, where the children\nhave been put out of sight, and say, \"They neither shall come to me,\nnor shall I go to them; they are blossoms that have fallen; they\nnever shall bring forth fruit\"? It is unnatural. It is hideous.\nEverything that is in man, every instinct that is best in human\nnature repels it.\n\nIs not the human soul, then, itself a witness of the truth of\nimmortality?\n\nMen say, \"You cannot prove it. There is no argument that can\nestablish it. No man has seen it, and it cannot be substantiated. It\nis not a ponderable thing.\" Men demand that we should prove things\nby straight lines; by the alembic; by scales; by analysis; but I\nsay that there is much in nature which is so high that scales and\nrules and alembics cannot touch it. And is not man's soul a part of\nnature--the highest part?\n\nI hold that even the materialist may believe in immortality.\nFor, altho there is a gross kind of materialism, there may be a\nmaterialism which is consistent with a belief in immortality.\nBecause, on the supposition that the mind is matter, it must be\nadmitted that it is incomparably superior to any other matter that\nwe are familiar with. Is there any matter outside of mind that\nproduces thought and feeling such as we see evolved among men? If\nit be the theory that mind is matter, and if the matter of which\nthe mind is composed be so far above all other kinds of matter in\nits fruit and product, is it not on so high a plane as presumably\nnot to be subject to the lower and coarser forms of examination and\ntest? I know no reason why cerebral matter may not be eternal. I do\nnot belong to those who take that material view of the mind; but I\ndo not know that immortality is inconsistent even with materialism;\nand how much more easily may it be reconciled to the view of those\nwho believe in the ineffable character, the imponderable, spiritual\ncondition, of the soul!\n\nIn addition to these arguments, when we come to the Word of God, we\nhear the voices of those who sang and chanted in the past. We hear\nthe disciple crying out, \"Christ is risen!\" and we hear the apostle\npreaching this new truth to mankind. So that now the heavens have\nbeen broken open. The secrets of the other life have been revealed.\nAnd is there not a presumption, following the line of a man's\nbest manhood, that immortality is true? Does one need to go into\na rigorous logical examination of this subject? Should one stand\njealously at the side of the sepulcher of Christ, and examine this\nmatter as a policeman examines the certificate of a suspected man,\nor as one takes money from the hand of a cheating usurer and goes\nout to see if it is gold? Shall one stand at the door from which\nissue all the hopes that belong to the best part of man; shall one\nlook upon that which is demanded by the very nature of his better\nmanhood, and question it coldly, and tread it under foot?\n\nWhat do we gain by obliterating this fair vision? Why should not\nheaven continue to shine on? Why should we not look into it, and\nbelieve that it is, and that it waits for us? Have we not the\nforetokens of it? Is not the analogy of the faculties one that leads\nus to believe that there is some such thing? Does not the nature of\nevery man that is high and noble revolt at flesh and matter? Are\nthey not rising toward the ineffable? Are not all the intuitions and\naffections of men such that, the better they are, the more they have\nof things that are manly, the more indispensable it is that they\nshould have endurance, etherealization, perpetuation?\n\nThe heart and flesh cry out for God. They cry out for immortality.\nNot only does the Spirit from the heavenly land say to every\ntoiling, yearning, anxious soul, \"Come up hither,\" but every soul\nthat is striving upward has in it, if not a vocalized aspiration,\nyet a mute yearning--a voice of the soul--that cries out for heaven,\n\n     \"As the hart panteth after the waterbrooks, so panteth my soul\n     after thee, O God!\"\n\nOn such a day as this, then, in a community of moral feeling, how\nblest is the truth which comes to us, that we are not as the beasts\nthat die; that we are as the gods that live! That for which we were\nmade is immortality; and our journey is rough, straight, sharp,\nburdensome, with many tears. Our journey is not to the grave. I\nam not growing into old age to be blind, and to be deaf, and to\nbe rheumatic, and to shrink a miserable cripple into the corner,\nshaking and tottering and forgetting all that I ever knew. The best\npart of me is untouched. The soul; the reason; the moral sense; the\npower to think; the power to will; the power to love; the power\nto admire purity, and to reach out after it--that is not touched\nby time, tho its instrument and means of outer demonstration be\ncorroded and failing. No physical weakness touches the soul. Only\nthe body is touched by sickness. And shake that down! Shake it down!\nLet it go! For, as the chrysalis bursts open, and the covering\nwhich confines the perfected insect is dropt, that he may come out\ninto brightness of form and largeness of life, so this body is but\na chrysalis; and when we break through it, we rise on wings by the\nattraction of God, and by the propulsion of our own inevitable\ndesire and need, and are forever with the Lord.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPIN\n\nNICODEMUS: THE SEEKER AFTER RELIGION\n\n\n\n\nBIOGRAPHICAL NOTE\n\n\nEDWIN HUBBELL CHAPIN, Universalist divine, was born in Union\nVillage, Washington County, N. Y., in 1814. He began his very\nsuccessful ministry 1837 in Richmond, Va., subsequently he preached\nin Charlestown, Mass., from which place he was called to the\npastorate of the Fourth Universalist Church in New York City. His\npreaching attracted large congregations, and he was generally\nregarded as one of the greatest preachers of this country. He spoke\nfrom a manuscript, using no gesture, but his magnetic personality\nnever failed to drive his message home. He published numerous\nvolumes of sermons and lectures. He died in 1880.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPIN\n\n1814-1880\n\nNICODEMUS: THE SEEKER AFTER RELIGION\n\n     _There was a man of the Pharisees, named Nicodemus, a ruler of\n     the Jews: The same came to Jesus by night._--John iii., 1, 2.\n\n\nAltho we have but few glimpses of Nicodemus in the gospels, he is\na personage of peculiar interest. A Pharisee, and a member of the\ngreat Jewish senate, or Sanhedrin, he shows us that the influence of\nChrist was not limited to the poor and the obscure; but that, while\nHis words and works awoke enmity and fear among the higher classes,\nthey struck, in the breasts of some of these, a holier chord.\n\nIt may not be certain that Nicodemus ever openly confest Christ;\nyet, in this chapter, he appears in the attitude of a disciple, and\nwe find him defending Jesus before the Sanhedrin, and assisting at\nHis burial. Still, unless the last-mentioned act be considered as\nsuch, we do not discover, in his conduct, that public and decisive\nacknowledgment which the Savior required; we do not behold the frank\navowal of Peter, or the intrepidity of Paul. There is an air of\ncaution and of timidity about him. He carefully feels the ground of\ninnovation, before he lets go the establishment; and, indeed, he\nappears to have taken no step by which he forfeited his caste or\nhis office. It is difficult, too, to discover the precise purpose\nof this visit to Jesus. Perhaps he sought the interview from mixed\nmotives. A religious earnestness, kindled by the teachings and the\ncharacter of Christ, may have blended with speculative curiosity,\nand even with the throbbings of political ambition. His coming by\nnight, too, may have indicated timidity, or he may have chosen that\nseason as the best time for quiet and uninterrupted discourse. But,\nwhatever may have been his motives, the position in which we find\nhim shows, I repeat, that the power of Christ's ministry was felt,\nnot only by the excitable multitude, but by the more thoughtful and\ndevout of the Jewish people.\n\nNicodemus, however, presents a peculiar interest, not only because\nhe exhibits the influence of Jesus upon the higher orders of his\nnation, but because he appears as a seeker after religion, and as\none personally interested in its vital truths. His interview with\nthe Savior gives occasion for one of the most important passages in\nthe New Testament. The conversation of Christ, in this instance, is\nnot uttered in general principles and accommodated to the multitude,\nbut it is directed to an intelligent and inquiring spirit, in the\ncalm privacy of the night-time laying bare its very depths, and\ncraving the application of religion to its own peculiar wants. To\nbe sure, Nicodemus did not profess this want, but commenced the\nconversation with the language of respect, and with suggestion\nof more general inquiry. But He who \"knew what was in man,\" had\nalready penetrated the folds of the ruler's breast, and saw the\nreal need that had sent him; so, putting by all compliments, and\nall secondary issues, He struck at once the conscious chord that\nthrobbed there, and exclaimed: \"Verily, verily, I say unto thee,\nexcept a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God!\"\nThese words must have filled Nicodemus with surprize, both from\ntheir sudden heart-searchingness, and as addressing to him a term\nwhich was usually applied to men of very different condition. For\nthe phrase, \"new birth,\" was a customary one to express the change\nthrough which the Gentile passed in becoming a Jew. But it was\nindeed a strange doctrine that he, a son of Abraham, a Pharisee, a\nruler, must be born again, before he could be fit for the Messiah's\nkingdom. Therefore, really or affectedly, he misunderstood the\nSavior's words, and gave to a phrase, plain enough when applied to\na heathen, the most gross and literal interpretation. But Christ\nreiterated the solemn truth assuring him that an inward change,\nand an outward profession, a regeneration of the affections and\nthe will, and a renunciation of pride and fear, by the symbol of\nbaptism--a new birth of water and of the Spirit--was essential to\ntrue discipleship. And thus, stripping away all the reliances of\nformal righteousness, and all the supports of birth and position, in\nreply to the earnest question of Nicodemus: \"How can these things\nbe?\" the great Teacher proceeded to utter some of the sublimest\ndoctrines of the gospel.\n\nAs I have already said, whether Nicodemus became an avowed follower\nof Jesus, or not, is uncertain; but we know that the truths which\nhe then heard are of everlasting importance, have a personal\napplication to every man, and appeal to wants in our own souls,\nwhich are as real and as deep as those of the ruler of old.\n\nBut while thus Nicodemus exhibits a need of our common humanity,\nhe especially represents a class who may be called \"seekers after\nreligion,\" either as being unsettled and inquiring in their spirits,\nor as resting upon something which is not religion, but only,\nperhaps, a tendency toward it--they are seekers after it, as not\nhaving actually found it. In other words, for this class, religion\nhas its meaning and its pressure; they think about it, and they\nfeel its claims, yet they do not thoroughly and mentally know it;\nor, like Nicodemus, they rest upon some substitute. Some of these\npositions I propose now to illustrate.\n\nI observe, then, in the first place, that some seek religion in\nrituals and sacraments. The tendency of the human mind, as to\nmatters of faith and devotion, has always been to complicate\nrather than to simplify, and to associate these with set forms and\nsymbols. In all ages, men have shrunk from naked communion with God,\nfrom the solitude of an intense spirituality, and have conducted\ntransactions with the Invisible, through the mediation of ceremony.\nBut that which, at first, was an expression of the individual soul,\nhas grown into a fixed and consecrated rite. Gestures and modes of\nworship, suggested by the occasion, have been repeated in usage, and\ngrown venerable with age, until they have become identified with\nreligion itself. They have been exalted into mystic vehicles of\ngrace, have been considered as possessing virtue in themselves, and\nas constituting an awful paraphernalia, through which, alone, God\nwill deign to communicate with man, and through which man may even\npropitiate and move God. Christianity has not escaped this tendency;\nand, even now, there are many with whom the sacraments are something\nmore than expressive signs and holy suggestions, and with whom the\nposition of an altar, the shape of a vestment, and the form of a\nchurch are among the essentials of religion. With such, baptism\nspeaks, not merely to the eye of an inward washing, but it is of\nitself a regenerative process. In their view, the communion bread\nis not simply a representation of the broken body of the Redeemer;\nbut is itself so sacred, so identical with that body, that they must\nreceive it by a special posture, and upon a particular part of the\nhand. As a matter of course, to such, religion must appear eminently\nconservative and retrospective; the genius of the established and\nthe past, rather than of the reformatory and the future. Cherishing\nthe minutest fibers of these ancient rites, they chiefly venerate\nthe men who authenticate them, and the soil out of which they grow.\nWith them, the fluent spirit of religion became organized, and fixt\ninto a form, with fast-days and feast-days, with miter and cassock,\nand a lineal priesthood, ages ago.\n\nIt cannot be said that this method is entirely unfounded. It has its\njustification in human nature, if not elsewhere. There are those\nwho can find peace only in the arms of an hereditary faith: who can\nfeel the inspiration of worship only among forms that have kindled\nworship in others for a thousand years: with whose earliest thoughts\nand dearest memories is entwined a ritual and an established\nchurch, so that personal affection and household sanctity, as well\nas religious feeling, demand that every great act of life--of joy\nor sorrow--should be consecrated, by the familiar sacrament. For\nthat church, too, their fathers have died in darker times, and\nbeneath its chancels, sainted mothers molder into dust. All, too,\nthat can exalt the ideal, or wake the pulses of eloquent emotion,\nis connected with such a church. To them it opens a traditional\nperspective, the grandest in all history. Behind its altars, sweep\nthe vestments of centuries of priests, and rises the incense of\ncenturies of prayer. In its stony niches, stand rows of saints, who\nhave made human life sublime, and who, through all the passing ages,\nlook down upon the turmoil of that life with the calm beatitude of\nheaven; while its flushed windows still keep the blood-stain of its\nown martyrs, plashed against it ere yet it had become an anchored\nfact, and while it tossed upon the stormy waves of persecution. I\ncan understand, then, how an imaginative and reverential mind can\nfind the truest religious life only in connection with ritual and\nsacrament.\n\nI can understand, moreover, the reaction in this direction, which is\ntaking place at the present day.\n\nIt is the retreat of the religious sentiments from the despotism of\nan imperious reason. It is the counter-protest of loyal affections\nagainst what is deemed an anarchical tendency. It is the clinging\nof men's sympathies to the concrete, alarmed by the irreverent and\nanalytic methods of science. It is the retirement of faith and\ndevotion to those cloistered sanctities that shut out the noise of\nthe populace, and the diversions of the street. It is the reluctance\nof taste and imagination at our new and varnished Protestantism,\nwith its bare walls, its cold services, and its angular churches, of\nwhich one wing, perchance, rests upon a market, and the other upon a\ndram-shop. Especially would I not deny the profound spiritual life,\nthe self-sacrifice, and the beautiful charities which have consisted\nat all times, and which consist in the present time, with this\nritual and sacramental form of religion.\n\nBut when men claim that this alone is the genuine form--that\nthese are essentials of the only true Church--then I deny that\nclaim. If it fills some wants of our nature, it repudiates others\nequally authentic. If one class of minds find peace only under\nits consecrated shadows, others find no satisfaction but in the\ndiscipline of a spontaneous devotion, and the exercise of an\nindividual reason. If it suffices for men like Borromeo or Newman,\nit does not suffice for men like George Fox or Channing; and the\nreligion of these is as evident, in their simple spirituality, as\nthose in their mystic symbolism. When it sneers at the Puritan, then\nI must vindicate that rugged independence of soul, that faithfulness\nof the individual conscience, that sense of the divine sovereignty,\nwhich could kneel at no man's altar, and to God alone; which\nsacrificed all things for the right, but yielded not a hair to the\nwrong; which could find no medicine for the spirit in sacraments,\nbut only in the solitude of the inner life; and which has, under\nGod, wrought out this noble consummation of modern times, whereby\nothers may plant their vine of ritual under the broad heaven of\ntoleration, and have liberty to sneer. When the ritualist deprecates\nthe ultraism and irreverence of the anti-formalist, I must urge\nthe tendency of his own principles to mummery and absolutism. And,\nfinally, when he falls back upon tradition, I must fall back upon\nthe Bible. The spirit of the New Testament is not that of rituals\nor sacraments; and the universal sentiments of the Old are not. The\nprophet Isaiah, who exclaims: \"Bring no more vain oblations; incense\nis an abomination unto me; your new moons, and your appointed\nfeasts, my soul hateth.... Wash you, make you clean ... cease to\ndo evil, learn to do well!\" joins with the apostle, who says that\nChrist \"blotted out the handwriting of ordinances ... nailing it to\nhis cross,\" and that no man should judge us in meat or drink, or\ntimes, or seasons. And surely, there is no argument for forms or\nplaces in those Divine Words, which declare that \"God is a Spirit,\nand they who worship him, must worship him in spirit and in truth.\"\n\nWe cannot deny, then, that pure religion may consist with rituals\nand sacraments; we cannot deny that it may exist without these.\nBut I insist upon this point: that the sacrament, the ritual, is\nnot, itself, religion. It may be a beautiful sign--it may be a\nquick suggestion--it may be a medium of spiritual influence; but,\nalone, it cannot take the place of inward, personal piety, of right\naffections and an obedient will. No punctilious form can stand\nsubstitute for a vigilant conscience; no posture of devotion can\nsupply the place of living deeds; no ascetic mortification can\natone for guilt; no auricular confession can speak, instead of\nthe breathings of repentance, in the ear of God, and out from the\ndepths of the solitary soul. He who relies upon these forms, and\nfinds sanctity only in them, may be sincere, may be serious about\nreligion, but as yet he is only a seeker; and, speaking to his heart\nwith all-penetrating meaning, comes to him the decree: \"Ye must be\nborn again.\"\n\nAgain; there is a class who seek religion in philosophy. They\nbelieve in God by a course of reasoning. They believe in\nimmortality, because it is a conclusion riveted in their minds by\nthe iron links of induction. They pray, or not, according as it\nseems logical to do so. They would be good, because goodness is\nuseful.\n\nBut every proposition upon which they act, must first be strained\nthrough the alembic of the intellect, and must stand out in the\nclear definition of science. They verify and build up their\nreligion with callipers and dissecting-knife. It is a system of\ndigestion and pneumatology. They find an organ for veneration, and\nanother for conscientiousness, and therefore conclude that religion\nhas a legitimate place in the harmony of human character. But all\nmust be calm and balanced. They dare not trust the feelings and give\nbut little scope to enthusiasm. Sometimes, indeed, they rise to\neloquence in expatiating upon the truths of natural theology, and of\n\"the elder Scripture\"; tho they believe in Christ also, because He\nseems well authenticated as an historical fact. In short, such men\nare religious like Cicero, or Seneca, with some modification from\nmodern science and from the Sermon on the Mount.\n\nNow there is a close alliance between true philosophy and true\nreligion. That the New Testament is eminently free from fanaticism,\nand makes no appeal to mere credulity, any one will see who\nexamines. That it is rational and sober, constitutes one of its\ngreat internal evidences. A Christian philosopher is no anomaly,\nbut a beautiful expression of the essential harmony of all truth.\nKnowledge and piety burn and brighten with an undivided flame.\nRevelation and science are continually interpreting one another,\nwhile every day the material universe is unfolding a more spiritual\nsignificance, and indicating its subservience to a spiritual end.\nBut, after all, in order to be religious, it is not necessary that\na man should be a philosopher, and it is certain that often he is\na philosopher without being religious. Religion and philosophy\nmay coalesce, but they are two different spheres. Philosophy is\nout-looking and speculative; religion is inner and vital. In the\nscheme of philosophy, religion is reasoned out as a consequence,\nand adopted as an appendage to character. In the true scheme, it\nis the central germ of our being, the controlling force of life.\nThe religion of philosophy consists of right views of things, and a\nprudential schooling of the passions. True religion consists in a\nright state of the affections, and a renunciation of self. In the\none case, religion may \"play round the head, but come not near the\nheart\"; in the other, it breaks up the great deep of conscience,\nand pours an intense light upon the springs of motive. Philosophy\ncontains the idea of intellectual rectitude; religion, of moral\nobedience. Philosophy speaks of virtue; religion, of holiness.\nPhilosophy rests upon development; religion requires regeneration.\nIn short, we make an every-day distinction between the two which is\nfar more significant than any verbal contrast. It is the one, rather\nthan the other, that we apply, in the profounder experiences of our\nmoral nature, in the consciousness of sin and in the overwhelming\ncalamities of life. The one pours a purifying, healing, uplifting\npower into the homes of human suffering, and into the hearts of the\nignorant and the poor, that the other has not to bestow. Philosophy\nis well under all circumstances; but it is not the most inner\nelement of our humanity. Religion, in its humility, penitence, and\nfaith--at the foot of the cross, and by the open sepulcher--rejoices\nin a direct and practical vision, to which philosophy, with its\nencyclopedia and telescope, cannot attain.\n\nUnder this head, too, may be ranked a class of men who, tho they\nmay not be exactly philosophers, fall into the same conception\nof religion, as a matter of the intellect--as the possession of\ncorrect views--rather than a profound moral life. They estimate men\naccording to what they believe, and attribute the same sanctity to\nthe creed that others attribute to the ritual. And as religion, in\ntheir conception of it, consists in a series of correct opinions,\nthe great work should be an endeavor to make men think right. So the\npulpit should be an arsenal of controversial forces, incessantly\nplaying upon the ramparts of dogmatic error, with the artillery of\ndogmatic truth, and forever hammering the same doctrinal monotony\nupon the anvils of logic and of textual interpretation. They are\nsatisfied if some favorite tenet is proved to a demonstration, and\ngo forth rejoicing in the superiority of their \"views,\" without\nasking if saving love has melted and transfigured their own hearts,\nor whether personal sin may not canker in their souls, if hereditary\nguilt is not there. Now, it is true that great principles lie at the\nfoundation of all practical life, and the more elevated and clear\nour views, the more effectual are the motives to holiness and love.\n\nBut it matters little to what pole of doctrine the intellect swings,\nif the heart hangs unpenetrated and untouched. It matters little to\nwhat opinions in theology the pulpit has made converts, if all its\nmighty truths have not heaved the moral nature of the hearer--if\nit has not shot into the individual soul, like an arrow, the keen\nconviction: \"I must be born again!\"\n\nOnce again: there are those who seek religion in a routine of\noutward and commendable deeds--in mere morality. With such, the\ngreat sum of life is to be sober, chaste, humane; laying particular\nstress upon the business virtues, honesty, industry, and prudence.\nIn their idea, that man is a religious man who is an upright dealer,\nan orderly citizen, a good neighbor, and a charitable giver. To be\nreligious, means to do good, to keep your promises, and mind your\nown business. They tell us that benevolence is the richest offering,\nand that the truest worship is in the workshop and the field--that\na man prays when he drives a nail or plows a furrow, and that he\nexpresses the best thanksgiving when he enjoys what he has got, and\nis content if he gets no more.\n\nNow, the world is not so bad that there is not a good deal of this\nkind of religion in it. It would be unjust to deny that many golden\nthreads of integrity wind through the fabric of labor; that there\nis a strong nerve of rectitude holding together the transactions\nof daily life, and a wealth of spontaneous kindness enriching its\ndarker and more terrible scenes.\n\nBut, after all, these easy sympathies, and these prudential virtues,\nlack the radicalness of true religion. Religion cannot exist without\nmorality; but there is a formal morality which exists without\nreligion. I say, a formal morality; for essential morality and\nessential religion are as inseparable as the sap and the fruit.\nNor is morality a mere segment of religion. It is one-half of it.\nNay, when we get at absolute definitions, the two terms may be\nused interchangeably; for then we consider religion presenting its\nearthly and social phase, and we consider morality with its axis\nturned heavenward. But, in the case of these outside virtues, which\nare so common, we behold only one-half of religion, and that is its\nearthly and social form; and even this lacks the root and sanction\nof true morality. For the difference between the morality of a\nreligious man and that of another, consists in this: with the one,\nmorality bears the sanction of an absolute law, and God is at its\ncenter. It is wrought out by discipline, and maintained at all cost.\nWith the other, it is an affair of temperament, and education, and\nsocial position. He has received it as a custom, and adopted it as\na policy; or he acts upon it as an impulse. With the one, it is\na matter of profit and loss, or a fitful whim of sentiment. With\nthe other, it is the voice of a divine oracle within, that must be\nobeyed; it is the consecrated method of duty, and the inspiration of\nprayer. Now, to say that it makes no difference about the motive of\nan act, so long as the act itself is good, indicates that very lack\nof right feeling and right perception, which confounds the formal\nmorality of the world with religion. For, in the distinctions of the\nChristian system, the motive makes the deed good or bad; makes the\ntwo mites richer than all the rest of the money in the treasury;\nmakes the man who hates his brother a murderer. The good action may\nbless others, but if I do not perform it from a right motive, it\ndoes not bless me; and the essential peculiarity of religion is,\nthat it regards inward development, individual purity, personal\nholiness--so that one essential excellence of the good deed consists\nin its effect upon the agent--consists in the sinews which it lends\nto his moral power, and the quantity it adds to his spiritual life.\nWhen, from a right motive, with effort and sacrifice, I help a\nweak and poor man, I enrich my individual and spiritual being. If I\nbestow from a mere gush of feeling, I receive no permanent spiritual\nbenefit; if from a bad motive, I impoverish my own heart. Acts,\nthen, which appear the same thing in form, differ widely, considered\nin the religious bearings. There is the morality of impulse, the\nmorality of selfishness, and the morality of principle, or religious\nmorality. The motive of the first-named, we obey instantaneously,\nand it may do good, just as we draw our hands from the flame, and\nthereby obey a law of our physical nature, tho we act without any\nconsideration of that law. A great deal of the morality in the world\nis of this kind.\n\nIt may do good, but has no reference to the law of rectitude. It is\nimpulsive, and, therefore, does not indicate a steadfast virtue,\nor a deep religious life. For the very impulsiveness that leads to\nthe gratification of the sympathies, leads to the gratification\nof the appetites, and thus we often find generous and benevolent\ncharacteristics mixed with vicious conduct. Then, as I have said,\nthere is the morality of selfishness. In this instance, I may\nperform many good actions from sheer calculation of material profit.\nI may be benevolent, because it will increase my reputation for\nphilanthropy. I may be honest, because \"honesty is the best policy.\"\nBut is this the highest, the religious sanction of morality? No;\nthe morality of the religious man is the morality of principle.\nThe motive in his case is not \"I will,\" or \"I had better,\" but \"I\nought.\" He recognizes morality as a law, impersonal, overmastering\nthe dictates of mere self, and holding all impulses in subservience\nto the highest good. The morality of impulse is uncertain. The\nmorality of policy is mean and selfish. The morality of religion is\nloyal, disinterested, self-sacrificing. It acts from faith in God,\nand with reference to God.\n\nBut another trait separates the religious from the merely formal\nmoralist. It consists in the fact that with him, \"morality,\" as\nwe commonly employ the term, is not all. Piety has its place. His\naffections not only flow earthward, but turn heavenward. He not\nonly loves his neighbor as himself, but he loves the Lord, his\nGod. He not only visits the widows and the fatherless in their\naffliction, but he keeps himself unspotted from the world. With\nhim, toil is prayer, and contentment is thanksgiving, because he\ninfuses into them a spirit of devotion, which he has cultivated by\nmore solitary and special acts. With him it is a good thing to live\nhonestly, industriously, soberly; but all life is not outward, is\nnot in traffic and labor, and meat and drink. There is an inward\nworld, to which his eyes are often introverted--a world of spiritual\nexperience, of great realities, and everlasting sanctions--a\nworld behind the veil--a holy of holies in his soul, where rests\nthe Shekinah of God's more immediate presence; yea, where he meets\nGod face to face. And it is this that directs his public conduct.\nThe orderly and beautiful method of his life is not the huddled\nchance-work of good impulses, is not the arithmetic of selfishness;\nbut it is a serene and steady plan of being projected from the\ncommunion of the oratory, and the meditation of the closet.\n\nAgain, I say, let us not depreciate morality. Let us condemn that\nostentatious piety which lifts up holy hands to God, but never\nstretches them out to help man; which anoints its head with the oil\nof sanctity, but will not defile its robes with the blood of the\nabused, or the contact of the guilty; which is loud in profession\nand poor in performance; which makes long prayers, but devours\nwidow's houses. Let us condemn this, but remember that this is\nnot real religion, only its form; as often, the kind deed, the\nhonest method, is not true morality, only its form. Of both these\ndepartments of action let it be said: that these we have done, and\nnot left the other undone. Let us recognize the perfect harmony,\nnay, the identity of religion and morality, in that One who came\nfrom the solitary conflict of the desert, to go about doing good,\nand who descended, from the night prayer on the mountain, to walk\nand calm the troubled waves of the sea.\n\nBut those who rest in a mere routine of kind and prudential deeds\nneed the deeper life and the inner perception which detects the\nmeaning and gives the sanction to those deeds. Such need the vital\ngerm of morality--the changed heart, the new birth.\n\nAnd as I have spoken of a subordinate yet somewhat distinct class\nwho may be ranked under the general head of seekers after religion\nin philosophy, let me here briefly allude to some with whom religion\nis a matter of mere sentiment and good feeling. Such are easily\nmoved by the great doctrines of the New Testament. They are affected\nby the sermon; they have gushes of devout emotion during the prayer.\nBut with them, religion is not a deep and steady pulse of divine\nlife. Prayer is not a protracted aspiration--is not a habit. They\nfeel well towards God, because they consider Him a good-natured,\ncomplacent being; but they do not meditate upon the majesty of His\nnature, upon His justice, and His holiness.\n\nFrom the doctrine of immortality they draw consolation, but not\nsanctity. They regard it as a good time coming, but it furnishes\nthem with no personal and stringent applications for the present.\nThey need a more solemn and penetrating vision; a profounder\nexperience in the soul. They need to be born again.\n\nThen, again, there are those who may be called amateurs in religion.\nThat is they are curious about religious things. They like to\nspeculate about it, to argue upon its doctrines and to broach or\nexamine new theories. They go about from sect to sect, and from\nchurch to church, tasting what is novel in the reasoning, or\npleasing in the manner of the preacher; in one place to-day to\nhear an orator; in another to-morrow to hear a latter-day saint;\nit is all the same thing to them. All they want with religion is\nentertainment and excitement. They are Athenians, ever seeking some\nnew thing. They smack at a fresh heresy as if they were opening a\nbox of figs, and are as delighted with a controversy, as a boy with\na sham-fight. They have no fixt place in the Church universal. They\nare liberalists, without any serious convictions, and cosmopolites\nwithout any home affections. In fact, to them religion is a\nsham-fight--a matter of spectacle and zest--not a personal interest,\nor an inward life. They would seek Jesus by night, because they hope\nto learn something wonderful or new, and would be started to hear\nHis solemn words tingling in their hearts: \"Ye must be born again!\"\n\nNay, my friends, would not these solemn words startle many of us?\nIt may be, we have never made any inquiry concerning religion--have\nnever even come to Jesus, as it were, by night. Such, with their\nbarks of being drifting down the stream of time, have never guessed\nthe meaning of their voyage, or reckoned their course; nay, perhaps\nthey live as tho religion were a fable, as tho earth were our\npermanent abiding-place, and heaven a dream. If such there are, they\nhave not even listened to the Savior's words. But there are others\namong us perhaps, who are interested in the subject of religion,\nwho are in some way or another engaged in it; but who are restless\nseekers after it, rather than actual possessors of it; who are\nresting upon insufficient substitutes for it. And I ask, would not\nthese words breaking forth from the lips of Jesus, startle us in our\nritualism, our philosophy, our outside morality, our sentimentalism,\nor our mere curiosity? And do they not speak to us? Are they not as\ntrue now as when they struck upon the shivering ear of Nicodemus? Do\nthey not make us feel as intensely our obligation and our religious\nwants, as he might have felt there, with the wind flitting by him as\ntho the Holy Spirit were touching him with its appeal, and with the\ncalm gaze of the Savior looking into his heart? Do they not demand\nof us, resting here awhile from the cares and labors of the world,\nsomething more than mere conformity, or intellectual belief, or\nformal deeds? Do they not demand a new and better spirit, a personal\napprehension of the religious life, a breaking up and regeneration\nof our moral nature, a change of heart?\n\n\n\n\nSTANLEY\n\nIN MEMORIAM--THOMAS CARLYLE\n\n\n\n\nBIOGRAPHICAL NOTE\n\n\nARTHUR PENRHYN STANLEY, the English scholar and divine, was born\n1815 at Alderley, of which his father was rector. He was educated\nunder Dr. Arnold at Rugby and in 1834 began a brilliant career at\nOxford. Having been ordained priest in 1843 he was made Canon of\nCanterbury in 1851 and Dean of Westminster in 1864. At this date\nbegan his career as an ethical preacher. His pulpit became the means\nof reconciling many to the English Church because of its broad and\nsympathetic feeling of Christian brotherhood. All of his discourses\nare marked by a refined literary culture and a catholicity of\nspirit. Stanley's most famous sermons are those in which he\ncelebrates the life and work of many illustrious men who had passed\naway during his lifetime. He died in 1881.\n\n\n\n\nSTANLEY\n\n1815-1881\n\nIN MEMORIAM--THOMAS CARLYLE\n\n_The kingdom of heaven is likened unto a man which sowed good seed\nin his field._--Matt. xiii., 24.\n\n\nThe gospel of this day starts with a comparison of the kingdom\nof heaven to a sower. It is the same as that with which the more\ncelebrated parable begins, \"A sower went forth to sow.\" They both\nfix our minds on the manner in which God's kingdom--the kingdom of\ntruth, beauty and goodness--is carried on in the world. The kingdom\nof all that is good is fostered, not so much by direct and immediate\nplantation or grafting or building or formations of any kind, but\nrather by the sowing of good seed, which, in time, shall grow up and\nfurnish a rich harvest.\n\nIt is so with regard to the truths of the Bible. They are sown\nin the world; the good which grows up after them is never, in\noutward form, like the truth which came from the actual source.\nInstitutions spring up. They may derive their vitality from the corn\nand wheat which sink into the ground; but they cannot be the very\nthing itself. There is not a single form, or a single doctrine of\nChristendom, of which the outward shape is not different, in some\nway, from the principle of life which gave it birth.\n\nThere is only one instance of a ready-made scholastic doctrine in\nthe whole Bible, and that has been long known to be spurious. It is\nnot the verse of the three witnesses, but the parable of the Good\nShepherd, the poetry of the Prodigal Son, the pathetic story of the\nCrucifixion, that have been the true seeds of the Christian life. In\nthis way it is that the divine origin of these truths proves itself.\nThe bright and tender words can never grow old, because they are not\nflowers cut and dried, but seeds and roots, which are capable of\nbearing a thousand applications.\n\nAgain, this is the ground of our looking forward with a hope, which\nnothing can extinguish, toward the transformation, the renewal of\nthe human life, for a moment perishing, to reappear, we trust, in\nsome future world, instinct with the capacities for good or evil\nwith which it was endowed, or which it has acquired in the life\nthat now is. The seminal form within the deeps of that little chaos\nsleeps, which will, we trust, in the almighty providence of God,\nrestore that chaos of decayed and broken powers into conditions more\nelevated than now we can dream of.\n\nAgain, characters appear in the world which have a vivifying and\nregenerating effect, not so much for the sake of what they teach\nus, as for the sake of showing us how to think and how to act.\nWhat Socrates taught, concerning man and the universe, has long\nsince passed away; but what he taught of the method and process of\npursuing truth--the inquiry, the cross-examination, the sifting of\nwhat we do know from what we do not know--this is the foundation\nof the good seed of European philosophy for all time. What St.\nPaul taught concerning circumcision and election or grace is among\nthe things hard to be understood, which the unlearned and the\nunstable may wrest to their own destruction, or, having served their\ngeneration, may be laid asleep; but what he taught of the mode and\nmanner of arriving at divine truth, when he showed how \"the letter\nkilleth and the spirit maketh alive\"; when he set forth how charity\nis the bond of all perfectness; when he showed how all men are\nacceptable to God by fulfilling, each in his vocation, whether Jew\nor Gentile, whether slave or free, the commandments of God--he laid\nthe true foundation of Christian faith; he planted in the heart of\nman the seed, the good seed, of Christian liberty and Christian\nduty, to bear fruit again and again amidst the many relapses and\neclipses of Christendom. When Luther dinned into the ears of his\ngeneration the formula of transubstantiation and of justification\nby faith only, this was doomed to perish and \"wax old as doth a\ngarment\"; but his acts, his utterances of indignant conscience\nand of far-sighted genius, became the seed of the Reformation,\nthe hope of the world. When John Wesley rang the changes of the\nwell-known formula of assurance, it was the word of the ordinary\npreacher; but, in his whole career of fifty years of testifying\nfor holiness and preaching against vice, this was the seed of\nmore than Methodism--it was the seed of the revival of English\nreligious zeal. Such seeds, such principles, such infusions, not of\na mechanical system, but of a new light in the world, are not of\nevery-day occurrence--they are the work of a few, of a gifted few,\nand, therefore, are so much the more to be observed when anyone,\nwho has had it in his power to scatter such seeds right and left,\npasses away and leaves us to ask what we have gained, what we can\nassimilate, of the peculiar nourishment which his life and teachings\nmay have left for our advantage. Few will doubt that such an one\nwas he who yesterday was taken from us. It may be that he will not\nbe laid, as might have been expected, among the poets and scholars\nand sages, whose dust rests within this Abbey; it may be that he\nwas drawn by an irresistible longing toward the native hills of his\nown Dumfriesshire, and that there, beside the bones of his kindred,\nbeside his father and his mother, and with the silent ministrations\nof the Church of Scotland, to which he still clung amidst all the\nvicissitudes of his long existence, will repose all that is earthly\nof Thomas Carlyle. But he belonged to a wider sphere than Scotland;\nfor, tho by nationality a Scotchman, he yet was loved and honored\nwherever the British language is spoken. Suffer me, then, to say a\nfew words on the good seed which he has sown in our hearts.\n\nIn his teaching, as in all things human, there were, no doubt,\ntares, or what some would account tares, which must be left to\nafter-times to adjust, as best they can, with the pure wheat which\nis gathered into the garner of God. There were imitators, parasites,\nexaggerators, of the genuine growth, which sometimes almost choked\nthe original seed and disfigured its usefulness and its value;\nbut of this we do not speak here. Gather them up into bundles and\nburn them. We speak only of him and of his best self. Nor would we\nnow discourse at length on those brilliant gifts which gave such\na charm to his writings, and such an unexampled splendor to his\nconversation. All the world knows how the words and the deeds of\nformer times became, as Luther describes in the apostle's language,\n\"not dead things, but living creatures with hands and feet.\" Every\ndetail was presented before us, penetrated through and through with\nthe fire of poetic imagination, which was the more powerful because\nit derived its warmth from facts gathered together by the most\nuntiring industry. Who can ever, from this time forward, picture the\ndeath of Louis XVI, or the flight of the king and queen, without\nremembering the thrill of emotion with which, through the \"History\nof the French Revolution,\" they became acquainted with him for the\nfirst time? Who can wander among the ruins of St. Edmunds's at\nBury without feeling that they are haunted in every corner by the\nlifelike figure of the Abbot Samson, as he is drawn from the musty\nchronicle of Jocelyn? Who can read the letters and the speeches of\nCromwell, now made almost intelligible to modern years, without\ngratitude to the unwearied zeal which gathered together from every\ncorner those relics of departed greatness? What German can fail to\nacknowledge that, not even in that much-enduring, all-exhausting,\ncountry of research and labor--not even there has there been raised\nsuch a monument to Frederick the Second, called the Great, as by the\nsimple Scotchman who, for the sake of describing what he considered\nthe last hero-king, almost made himself, for the time, a soldier and\na statesman?\n\nBut, on these and many like topics, this is not the time or place to\nspeak. It is for us to ask, as I have said, What was the good seed\nwhich he sowed in the field of our hearts, and in what respects we\nshall be, or ought to be, the better for the sower having lived and\ndied among us?\n\nIt was customary for those who honored him to speak of him as a\nprophet. And, if we take the word in its largest sense, he truly\ndeserved the name. He was a prophet, in the midst of an untoward\ngeneration: his prophet's mantle was his rough Scotch dialect, and\nhis own peculiar diction, and his own secluded manner of life. He\nwas a prophet, most of all, in the emphatic utterance of truth\nwhich no one else, or hardly anyone else, ventured to deliver,\nand which, he felt, was a message of good to a world which sorely\nneeded them. He stood almost alone, among the men of his time, in\nopposing a stern, inflexible resistance to the whole drift and\npressure of modern days toward exalting popular opinion and popular\nmovements as oracles to be valued above the judgment of the few,\nabove the judgment of the wise, the strong, and the good. Statesmen,\nmen of letters, preachers, have all bowed their heads under the\nyoke of this, as they believed, irresistible domination, under the\nimpression that the first duty of the chiefest man is, not to lead,\nbut to be led--the necessary conditions of success, to ascertain\nwhich way the current flows, and to swim with it as far as it will\nbear us. To his mind all this proved an insane delusion. That\nexpression of his, which has become, like many of his expressions,\nalmost proverbial in the minds of those who like them least, will\nexpress the attitude of his mind, his answer to the question, \"What\nare the people of England?\" \"Thirty millions--mostly fools.\" The\nwhole framework and fabric of his mind was built up on the belief\nthat there are not many wise, not many noble minds, not many\ndestined by the supreme Ruler of the universe to rule their fellows;\nthat few are chosen; that \"strait is the gate and narrow is the\nway, and few there be that find it.\" But, when the few appear, when\nthe great and good present themselves it is the duty and the wisdom\nof the multitude to seek their guidance. A Luther, a Cromwell, a\nGoethe, were to him the born kings of men. This was his doctrine of\nthe work of heroes; this, right or wrong, was the mission of his\nlife. It is, all things considered, a fact much to be meditated\nupon; it is, all things considered, a seed which is worthy of all\ncultivation.\n\nThere is another feeling of the age to which he also stood\nresolutely opposed, or, rather, a feeling of the age which was\nresolutely opposed to him, the tendency to divide men into two\nhostile camps, parted from each other by watchwords and flags,\nand banners and tokens, which we commonly designate by the name\nof party. He, perchance, disparaged unduly the usefulness, the\nnecessity, of party organization or party spirit as a mode of the\nsecondary machinery by which the great affairs of the world are\ncarried on; but he was a signal example of a man who not only could\nbe measured by no party standard, but who absolutely disregarded\nit. He never, during the whole course of his long life, took any\nactive part, never, I believe, voted in those elections which, to\nmost of us, are the very breath of our nostrils. For its own sake\nhe cherished whatever was worth preserving; for its own sake he\nhailed whatever improvement was worth effecting. He cared not under\nwhat name or by what man the preservation or the improvement was\nachieved. This, too, is an ideal which few can attain, which still\nfewer attempt; but it is something to have had one man who was\npossest by it as a vital and saving truth. And such a man was the\nProphet of Chelsea. But there was that in him which, in spite of his\nown contemptuous description of the people, in spite of his scorn\nfor the struggles of party, endeared him, in no common degree, even\nto those who most disagreed with him--even to the humblest classes\nof our great community. He was an eminent instance of how a man can\ntrample on the most cherished idols of the market-place, if yet he\nshows that he has in his heart of hearts the joys, the sorrows, the\nneeds of his toiling, suffering fellow creatures. In this way they\ninsensibly felt drawn toward that tender, fervid nature which was\nweak when they were weak, which burned with indignation when they\nsuffered wrong. They felt that, if he despised them, it was in love;\nif he refused to follow their bidding, it was because he believed\nthat their bidding was an illusion.\n\nAnd for that independence of party of which I spoke, there was also\nthe countervailing source, that no man could for a moment dream that\nit arose from indifference to his country. He was no monk; he was\nno hermit dwelling apart from the passions which sway the destinies\nof a great nation. There is no man living to whom the thrift, the\nindustry, the valor of his countrymen were so deeply precious. There\nis no man living, to whom, had it been possible for him to have\nbeen aroused from the torpor of approaching death, the news would\nhave been more welcome that the Parliament of England had been in\nthe last week saved from becoming a byword and reproach and shame\namong the nations of the earth. And all this arose out of a frame\nof mind which others have shared with him, but which, perhaps, few\nhave been able to share to the same extent. The earnestness, almost\nthe very word is his own, the earnestness, the seriousness, with\nwhich he approached the great problems of all human life, have made\nus feel them also. The tides of fashion have swept over the minds\nof many who once were swayed by his peculiar tones; but there must\nbe many a young man whose first feelings of generosity and public\nspirit were roused within him by the cry as if from the very depths\nof his heart, \"Where, now, are your Hengists and your Horsas? Where\nare those leaders who should be leading their people to useful\nemployments, to distant countries, where are they? Preserving their\ngame!\" Before his withering indignation all false pretensions, all\nexcuses for worthless idleness and selfish luxury, fell away. The\nword which he invented to describe them has sunk, perhaps, into cant\nand hollowness; but it had a truth when first he uttered it. Those\nfalsities were shams, and they who practised them were guilty of the\nsin which the Bible, in scathing scorn, calls hypocrisy.\n\nAnd whence came this earnestness? Deep down in the bottom of his\nsoul it springs from his firm conviction that there was a higher, a\nbetter world than that visible to our outward senses. All, whether\ncalled saints, in the middle ages, or Puritans, in the seventeenth\ncentury, or what you like in our own day, he revered them, with all\ntheir eccentricities, as bright and learned examples of those who\n\"sacrificed their lives to their higher natures, their worser to\ntheir better parts.\" In addressing the students of Edinburgh, he\nbade them remember that the deep recognition of the eternal justice\nof heaven, and the unfailing punishment of crimes against the law\nof God, is at the origin and foundation of all the histories of\nnations. No nation which did not contemplate this wonderful universe\nwith an awe-stricken and reverential belief that there was a great\nunknown, omnipotent, all-wise, and all-just Being superintending\nall men and all interests in it, no nation ever came to very much,\nnor did any man either, who forgot that. If a man forgot that, he\nforgot the most important part of his mission in the world. So he\nspoke, and the ground of his hope for Europe--of his hope, we may\nsay, against hope--was that, after all, in any commonwealth where\nthe Christian religion exists, nay, in any commonwealth where it\nhas once existed, public or private virtue, the basis of all good,\nnever can become extinct; but in every new age, and even from the\ndeepest decline, there is a chance, and, in the course of ages, the\ncertainty, of renovation. The divine depths of sorrow, the sanctuary\nof sorrow, the life and death of the divine Man, were, to him,\nChristianity. We stand, as it were, beside him whilst the grave\nhas not yet closed over those flashing eyes, over those granite\nfeatures, over that weird form on which we have so often looked,\nwhilst the silence of death has fallen on that house which was once\nso frequented and so honored. We call up memories which occurred\nto ourselves. One such, in the far past, may, perchance, come with\npeculiar force to those whose work is appointed in this place. Many\nyears ago, whilst I belonged to another cathedral, I met him in St.\nJames' Park, and walked with him to his own house. It was during\nthe Crimean war; and after hearing him denounce, with his vigorous\nand, perhaps, exaggerated earnestness, the chaos and confusion into\nwhich our administration had fallen, and the doubt and distrust\nwhich pervaded all classes at the time, I ventured to ask him,\n\"What, under the circumstances, is your advice to a canon of an\nEnglish cathedral?\" He grimly laughed at my question. He paused\nfor a moment and then answered, in homely and well-known words;\nbut which were, as it happened, especially fitted to situations\nlike that in which he was asked to give his counsel--\"Whatsoever\nthy hand findeth to do, do it with all thy might.\" That is, no\ndoubt, the lesson he leaves to each one of us in this place, and\nalso to this weary world--the world of which he felt the weariness\nas age and infirmity grew upon him--the lesson which, in his more\nactive days, he practised to the very letter. He is at rest, he is\nat rest; delivered from that burden of the flesh against which he\nchafed and fretted: he is at rest! In his own words, \"Babylon, with\nits deathening inanity, rages on to the dim innocuous and unheeded\nforever.\" From the \"silence of the eternities,\" of which he so often\nspoke, there still sound, and will long sound, the tones of that\nmarvelous voice.\n\nLet us take one tender expression, written three or four years\nago--one plaintive yet manful thought, which has never yet reached\nthe public eye: \"Three nights ago, stepping out after midnight and\nlooking up at the stars, which were clear and numerous, it struck\nme with a strong, new kind of feeling: 'In a little while I shall\nhave seen you also for the last time. God Almighty's own theater of\nimmensity--the infinite made palpable and visible to me--that also\nwill be closed--flung too in my face--and I shall never behold death\nany more.' The thought of the eternal deprivation even of this, tho\nthis is such a nothing in comparison, was sad and painful to me. And\nthen a second feeling rose upon me: 'What if Omnipotence that has\ndeveloped in me these appetites, these reverences, these infinite\naffections, should actually have said, Yes, poor mortal, such as\nyou who have gone so far, shall be permitted to go further. Hope!\ndespair not!' God's will, not ours, be done.\"\n\nYes, God's will be done for us and for him. The Lord gave, and the\nLord taketh away.\n\n\n\n\nVAUGHAN\n\nGOD CALLING TO MAN\n\n\n\n\nBIOGRAPHICAL NOTE\n\n\nCHARLES JOHN VAUGHAN, Church of England divine and educator, was\nborn at Leicester in 1816, and educated at Rugby under Dr. Arnold.\nHe was ordained in 1841 and in 1844 elected headmaster of Harrow.\nBut the post which gave him the best opportunity as a preacher, was\nthat of Master of the Temple which he occupied from 1869 to 1894. He\nwas a leader in the Broad Church party and his sermons are marked by\nsimplicity of diction, deep sincerity, and rare spiritual insight.\nHe died at Llandoff, of which he had been dean since 1879, in 1897.\n\n\n\n\nVAUGHAN\n\n1816-1897\n\nGOD CALLING TO MAN\n\n_And the Lord God called unto Adam, and said unto him, Where art\nthou?_--Genesis iii., 9.\n\n\n\"I wish,\" said a great man of our day, \"that some one would preach\nunder the dome of St. Paul's, on the text, 'Where art thou, Adam?'\"\nA noble subject, my brethren, when we think of it! But who is\nequal to the task of handling it? The work of God is quick and\npowerful--may it be so now, He Himself using it, and prospering it\nin the thing whereto He sent it.\n\nI shall ask you to look very closely into the text itself. I need\nnot tell anyone whence it comes; from the midst of that awful story\nwhich tells us of the first sin, and of its immediate consequences.\nThat same story is in substance acted over and over again in\nevery marked sin that is ever done by any man: the same mode of\ntemptation; first inward question, \"Yea, hath God said? is this\nthing which I wish to do really forbidden?\" and then the thought\nof the hardship; \"God doth know that this which He has forbidden\nis something desirable, something delightful; it is hard that it\nshould be denied me;\" and then the growing confidence, \"I shall not\nsurely die for it;\" and then the last review of all the advantages,\n\"good for food--pleasant to the eyes--to be desired to make me\nwise, or to make me happy, or to make me independent;\" and then the\nact itself--the taking and eating; and then the sense of leanness\nentering into the very soul. But that is not all which sin brings\nafter it. The next tells us of a summons, and after the context of\nan arraigning, and an examination, and at first a self-excusing,\nand then of a conviction, and a silencing, and a judgment: only one\nlittle word of comfort, one little streak of light, amidst all the\nsorrow, and all the curse, and all the gloom.\n\nBut I intend to sever the text now somewhat from its context, and to\nlook into it, with you, by itself alone. \"The Lord God called unto\nAdam, and said unto him, Where art thou?\" There is the speaker--God,\nthe Lord God. There is the person spoken to--Adam, the first man;\nAdam, from whom we all sprang; the father, and the likeness, and\nthe representative of us all. There is the nature of the address--a\ncall, a summons, decisive, authoritative, majestic. There are, at\nlast, the words uttered--few and plain, yet, when looked into,\nbig with meaning--\"Where art thou?\" And we shall not end without\nappealing to all of you, to each of you separately, to answer that\nquestion; to answer it truly, as we shall all have to answer it one\nday.\n\nNow I shall not occupy your time, or use many words, about the\nspeaker. There are those who profess to doubt the being of God;\nand there are those, on the other hand, who profess to prove it. I\nshall not suspect you of the one, and I shall not endeavor to do the\nother. I am quite sure that in your inmost hearts you do not doubt\nHis being; and I am quite certain that, if you do, I cannot prove\nit to you. The being of God is not a matter of argument, it is a\nmatter of instinct. The doubt or denial of it may pass muster with\nscoffing men in robust health and prosperous circumstances; but nine\nout of ten of those same men, finding themselves in sudden danger,\nby land or sea, from accident or disease, will be heard praying:\nthey may conceal it, they may disown it, they may be ashamed of\nit afterwards--but they did it: and that prayer was a witness,\nan unimpeachable witness, that down in the depths of their heart\nthere was a belief in God all the time; in their works alike and in\ntheir words they deny Him, but in their inmost souls, like the very\nspirits of evil, they believe and tremble. God, then, speaks here. I\ntell you not who He is: you know it; you know that there is such a\nperson, your creator, your ruler, your judge: happy if you know also\nthat He is the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ!\n\nNow, to whom does He here speak? I will say two things of His call\nas here described: First, that it is an individual call; and,\nsecondly, that it is a universal call. We try to make God's call\na vague one. It is for some one, no doubt; but every natural man\ntries to put it away from himself. In hearing a sermon, everyone\nthinks how suitable this reproof or that warning is to his neighbor;\nhe goes away to wish that such a person had heard it, to hope that\nsuch a person listened to it; but the person who thus hopes, and\nprobably, too, the person thus hoped about, never thought of taking\nit home--never said to himself, tho he was but too ready to say\nto another, \"Thou art the man.\" Nevertheless, God's call is an\nindividual one. The only use of it is to be so. O that we could\nhear it in that spirit! O that we could practise ourselves in so\nhearing it! Where art thou? not, where is he? still less, generally,\nwhere are they? Read the Bible thus, my brethren, as written for\nyou, for your learning, for your reproof, for your comfort--yours\nindividually and personally--and you will never need it in vain.\n\nBut this individual call is also universal. Let us not flatter\nourselves that we are more to God than others are: it is a very\ncommon, tho a well-disguised notion. We think that our souls are\nmore important than any others; and that is the least form of the\nerror: but we go on to think our faults are more excusable, our\nsins more venial, than those of others; we go on to think that God\nwill spare us when He does not spare others; we go on to think that\nour virtues are greater, our self-denials more meritorious, than\nthose of others; and by this time we have got farther away from\nthe truth and the gospel, than the poor self-condemning sinner who\nfeels, and denies it not, that he is yet in the gall of bitterness,\nin the very bond of iniquity.\n\nThe call of God, like the care of God, is universal. It is to\nthe race. It is to His creatures. Hear the word--\"The Lord God\ncalled unto Adam, and said unto him.\" If it had been, God called\nto Abraham, or to Moses, or to David, there would have been some\nparticularity, perhaps some limitation, in the summons; but none of\nus can say he is not included when Adam is spoken to; he is, indeed,\nthe father of us all: of him we all come. What God says to him, He\ncertainly says to us--to us all, as to each of us.\n\nBut we ask, perhaps, thirdly: How does God call to us? I will say,\nin three ways. He calls within--in conscience. Can you tell me what\nthat thing is in each of us which seems at once so intimate with us,\nyet so independent of us, that it knows everything we do, or say,\nor even think, and yet sits in judgment upon us for everything? Is\nit not a strange thing? We should expect that the whole man would\nmove together; that, if we did a thing, if we said a thing, if we\nthought a thing, we should go along with it, we should approve that\nthing: but is it so? No; we carry about within us a whole machinery\nof judicature; a witness, a jury, a judge, yes, an executioner, too;\nand, strange to say, it is in early life that the process is most\nperceptible, just while we are most ignorant, least reflecting,\nleast logical in our judgments. It is the work of many men through\nlife to stifle the voice within, and at last they almost succeed:\nbut do not tell me that you have no such voice within--certainly you\nwill not say that you never had it; and I will tell you what that\nvoice is, or was. It was the voice of the Lord God within, calling\nto Adam, and saying, \"Where art thou?\"\n\nHe calls also without--in providence. I really know not whether\nthis be not the most persuasive of all His modes of calling to us;\ncertainly it is the most authoritative of all. Conscience may be\nstifled, but providence grasps us very tightly--we cannot escape\nfrom it. Tell me, who caused you to be born where and what you were?\nWho settled that you should be born in this country and not in that?\nWho decided that you were to have poor parents or rich, Christian\nparents or un-Christian? Who has managed your circumstances for\nyou since you had a being? Who gave you, who has continued to give\nyou, your vigor of mind and body, your power of enjoyment, or your\nexperience of kindness, or your principles of judgment, or your\ninstincts of affection? Who took away from you that friend for\nwhom you are now mourning--that parent, that brother, that sister,\nthat wife, that child? Yes, we may forget it, or we may fret under\nit, but in the hands of a providence we all are; we are utterly\npowerless in that grasp: and whether we will believe it or no, that\npower is a voice too--a call from God without, even as conscience is\nHis voice and His call within.\n\nOnce more, God calls from above also--in revelation. My friend,\nbelievest thou the Scriptures? I know that thou believest. Your\npresence here seems to say that you do. And yet in this multitude\nhow many must there be who do not in their hearts believe! Let me\nrather say, who do not in their lives believe; for in your hearts I\nthink you do: sure I am that there are some parts of the Bible which\nyou cannot read and disbelieve; of course you may leave them unread,\nthat is always possible--easier than to read them--but I do not\nthink you can read the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah, for example,\nin the Old Testament, and I do not think you can read one chapter of\nSt. John's Gospel in the New Testament, and shut the book, saying,\n\"There is nothing in it.\" I suspect that is why we so often leave\nthe Bible unread--just because we believe it; we feel, when we do\nread it, that it is God's voice, and we do not want to hear that\nvoice. The Bible is more its own witness than we like oftentimes to\nadmit.\n\n    \"Who that has felt its glance of dread\n       Thrill through his heart's remotest cells,\n     About his path, about his bed,\n       Can doubt what spirit in it dwells?\"\n\nGod speaks; and speaks to us--to each of us and to all of us; and\nspeaks, chiefly in three ways--in conscience, in providence, in\nrevelation: and now, fourthly, what is His call? How is it here\nbriefly exprest? It might have been put, it is put in the Bible, in\ndifferent forms--but how is it here exprest? \"The Lord called unto\nAdam, and said unto him, Where art thou?\" This is a call, first,\nto attention. As tho God had said, Listen to Me. That is the first\nstep in all religion. What we want first is a spirit of attention.\nIt is the great art of our enemy to keep our thoughts off religion.\nThat is the meaning of the overwhelming cares of life. The devil\nwould occupy our whole time and thoughts with something which is\nnot, and has nothing (as he persuades us) to do with God. That is\nthe meaning of the excessive amusements of life. The cares of life\nare not enough to engross the attention of all men always; and\ntherefore the enemy provides something which shall alternate with\nthem for some men, and take the place of them for others. It is this\nart which God, in His mercy, in His long-suffering, in His desire\nthat we should not perish, has to counteract by His divine skill. He\ntakes a man aside now and then, from time to time--blest be His name\nfor it!--and makes him listen. He interposes by some chastisement,\nsome sickness, some bereavement, and constrains him to hearken to\nwhat He, the Lord God, has to say concerning him and to him. This is\nthe first point gained. Behold, he listens! better still, Behold,\nhe prayeth! It is a call, next, to the recognition of God's being,\nand of our responsibility to Him. \"Where art thou?\" It is as if He\nhad said, I am, and thou art Mine. As if He has said, I have a right\nto know about thee, and thou canst not evade Me. As if He had said,\nI am about, now, to enter into judgment with thee: give an account\nof thy stewardship. Yes, my brethren, it is an awful moment, when a\nman first becomes distinctly conscious that God is, and is something\nto him. He may have talked of God before: he may have fancied that\nhe knew all about Him: he may even have prayed before, and confest\nhimself before, and asked grace and help before: but now, for the\nfirst time, he sees how much more there is in all this than he has\nyet dreamed of; and the only words which he can find at all to\nexpress his new feeling, are those of the patriarch of old--\"I have\nheard of thee by the hearing of the ear, but now mine eye seeth\nthee: wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes.\"\n\nIt is a call, once more, and yet more particularly, to reflect upon\nour place or our position. I know not how else to express the force\nof the inquiry, \"Where art thou?\" It may be read literally--of\nplace. May not some one of those here assembled have been, ere\nnow, perhaps often, perhaps quite recently, in some place in which\nthe question, \"Where art thou?\" would have had a startling and\ncondemning sound?--some place where he was sinning? some place where\nhe had gone to sin? some place where he would not for the world have\nbeen seen by any human eye, and where he gladly forgot that there\nwas yet one eye which did see him? Oh, if God stood this night upon\nearth, and called aloud to the \"Adam\" of this generation--to the\nmen and women who form now the sum of the living human creation;\nif He should call them suddenly from the east and from the west to\navow exactly where they were, and to come forth from that place as\nthey were, without an instant allowed them to cover up and disguise\nthemselves; oh, what a revelation would it be of action and of\ncharacter! Oh, who might abide the scrutiny of that question? Oh,\nwho could stand when that inquirer appeared? But, even if the\nliteral local question could be well answered, there would remain\nyet another behind applicable to all men. \"Where art thou?\" is an\ninquiry as to position no less than place. It says, \"What is thy\npresent place as a man with a soul, as an immortal being? What is\nthy present standing, thy present state? Art thou safe? Art thou\nhappy? Art thou useful? Art thou doing the work I gave thee to do?\nIs it well with thee in the present? Is it well with thee in the\nfuture? Say not, I can not answer, I know not. I have taught thee\nhow to judge of thyself; now therefore advise, and see what answer\nthou wilt return to Him that made thee.\"\n\nMy brethren, I propose, in the last place, that we all answer this\nquestion. It is a very serious thing to do; and it is what no man\ncan do for his brother. Each one of us has one secret place, one\nsanctuary within the veil, into which, not even once a year, not\neven in the character of a high priest, can earthly foot ever enter.\nYet in that secret place shines forth the light of God's presence;\na light never put out altogether in any man, so far at least as\nits disclosing and revealing character is concerned, until sin and\nperverseness have done their perfect work, and the awful words are\nat length fulfilled, \"If the light that is in thee be darkness, how\ngreat is that darkness!\" At present, we will humbly hope, that this\nlast ruin has not been wrought in any one who hears me. And if not,\nI repeat it, we can all, if we will, answer God's question, when He\ncalls to each of us, as He does this night, and says, \"Where art\nthou?\"\n\nOne of us, perhaps, answers, if he speaks truly, I am wandering.\nI have left my Father's home; I took my portion of His goods, and\ncarried them away into a far country. Yes, He was very generous\nto me; He grudged me nothing; life and health, food and clothing,\neven success in the world, even human friendship and human love, He\ngave me all these, and upbraided not: He warned me that I should be\nsorry one day if I left Him; He cautioned me against the perils of\nmy way; He told me that I should not find happiness; He bade me, if\nI wished for that, to stay; He bade me, if I should ever be sorry\nthat I had gone, to arise instantly and return. My heart was young\nthen, and I thought I knew best; I left Him, with little feeling,\nwith much expectation; His last look was one of regretful love that\nI left Him and I am a wanderer still. Sometimes I have arisen to\ngo to my Father, but I went not: I was ashamed, I was afraid, I\nthought I was too sinful, I felt myself unstable, I feared that I\nmight relapse, I dreaded reproach, I dreaded ridicule, I dreaded,\nabove all, the sight of that face:--and thus stayed where I was,\nin the far country--I am a wanderer, an outcast still. And another\nanswers, like him to whom the question in the text was first put,\nI am hiding. I have sinned and I have not repented. I have eaten of\nthe tree of which God said to me, \"Thou shalt not eat of it, neither\nshalt thou touch it, lest thou die.\" I believed the creature more\nthan the Creator--the tempter more than the Savior. I went to the\nedge of temptation; I desired forbidden knowledge first, and then\nI could not rest until I knew by experience also; and now my heart\nis defiled, my conscience is defiled, my life is defiled; I have\nlost all right to the beatific vision, for I am no longer pure in\nheart; now, when I hear the voice of the Lord God, I hide myself,\nbecause I know myself sinful, and because I know that He is of purer\neyes than to look upon or tolerate iniquity. And another answers,\nI am resting. Earth is very pleasant to me; I have toiled and I\nhave reaped; I have gathered myself a competence; I have found the\nhappiness of lawful love; I have built myself a nest here, I have\nfenced it against the blasts of fortune, I am warm and tranquil\nwithin: let me alone a little while; it is not long that I can enjoy\nit; soon calamity may come, loss, sickness, death, into my peaceful\nhome; then I will turn and seek Thee--not yet, O not just yet!\nAnd another says, I am working. Am I not doing Thy work? Am I not\ndischarging the duties of my station? Am I not setting an example of\ndiligence and sobriety? Am I not availing myself of the faculties\nwhich Thou has given to make myself respectable, and useful, and\nexemplary in my generation? How can I do all this, and yet be\nreligious? How can I find time for both worlds at once? But yet,\nindeed, am I not providing for that other world in making a proper\nuse of this? Let me alone a little while; when I have a convenient\nseason, I will call for Thee. And another says, honestly, I am\ntrifling. The world is so gay, so amusing, so exciting: hast Thou\nnot made it so for our enjoyment? Oh, grudge me not my brief time\nof mirth and forgetfulness; I shall be serious enough one day. And\nanother says, I am coming. Yes, I am on my way. This is no world,\nI see it, of rest for me. There is no peace but in God: I sought\nit once elsewhere, and found it not: now I know my error; yes, I\nam coming, I am coming, I am on my way: but give me time: so great\na change cannot be wrought all at once: heaven cannot be won in a\nday: give me time, and I will reach Thee. I am now using the means:\nI pray, I read the Bible, I go to Thy House, I partake in Christ's\nsupper: surely this is the way to Thee!\n\nYes, my brother, but why this delay? Why this postponement of the\ndesired result? Wilt thou be any fitter to-morrow than to-day\nfor that step across the barrier which now seems so premature,\nso presumptuous? The word is very nigh thee: it is in thy mouth,\nit is in thy heart--thou knowest it well, even the word of\nfaith--\"Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ,\" at once, \"and thou shalt\nbe saved. Come unto me\"--not to-morrow, but to-day--\"all ye that\nlabor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.\" Are there any\nhere present--God grant that they be many!--who have yet one other\nanswer to return to the question on which we have dwelt? Thou sayest\nto me, O Lord, \"Where art thou?\" Lord, I am a sinner in a world\nof danger; and I have learned that danger in myself; for I have\nfallen, and I have sinned against Thee, times without number; yet by\nThy grace I have risen, and I have returned to Thee, and Thou hast\naccepted me in Thy Son, and hast endued me, according to my need,\nwith Thy Holy Spirit. And now, Lord, my life is hid with Christ in\nThee: He is my trust, He is my life, He is my hope, and the life\nthat I now live upon earth, I live by faith in Him. Under Thy care,\ndoing Thy work, thankful for Thy mercies, trusting in Thy strength,\neven now I am Thine, and hereafter I shall see Thee. Guide Thou my\nsteps, make Thy way plain before me, in the days that remain to me,\nand at last receive me to Thyself, disciplined, humbled, sanctified,\nthat I may rest in Thee forever, and forever see Thy glory!\n\nMy brethren, the work of God in each of us would be almost\naccomplished if this one call were heard within. Once let us know\nthat God is speaking to us, and that He waits an answer; once let\nus feel that He is, and that He will have us to be saved, and all\nthe rest will follow. May it be so now! May some wanderer this\nnight return to his Father; some hiding soul this night come forth\nfrom its lurking place; some builder upon the sand lay this night\nhis foundations upon the rock; some trifler be made serious; some\nworldly man turned heavenward--so that all may have cause to bless\nGod for His word here spoken, and ascribe to Him, through eternal\nages, thanksgiving, and blessing, and praise!\n\n\n\n\nNEWMAN HALL\n\nCHRISTIAN VICTORY\n\n\n\n\nBIOGRAPHICAL NOTE\n\n\nCHRISTOPHER NEWMAN HALL, Congregational divine, was born at\nMaidstone, Kent, in 1816. He was widely known as a writer, lecturer,\nand preacher of great eloquence. During the Civil War he was\nenthusiastic in advocating the cause of the North, and subsequently\ntwo extended tours in the United States brought him international\nfame. His tract, \"Come to Jesus,\" published in 1846, has been\ntranslated into over twenty languages. He died in 1902.\n\n\n\n\nNEWMAN HALL\n\n1816-1902\n\nCHRISTIAN VICTORY\n\n_To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the hidden manna, and\nwill give him a white stone, and in the stone a new name written,\nwhich no man knoweth saving he that receiveth it._--Rev. ii., 17.\n\n\nThe Christian life is often compared in Scripture to a warfare.\nFollowers of Jesus are \"soldiers.\" They are exhorted to put on \"the\nwhole armor of God.\" They \"fight the good fight of faith.\" Some of\nyou have been engaged in the conflict: others have more recently\nentered upon it. But, whether young or old in the Christian career,\nall find it necessary to be constantly stirred up to watchfulness\nagainst the never-ceasing assaults of the foe. It is not enough to\nput on the armor and to commence the battle. He that overcometh, and\nhe alone, will receive the salutation, \"Well done, good and faithful\nservant,\"--he alone shall \"lay hold upon eternal life.\"\n\nBut we are not left to fight without encouragement. As generals\nbefore a battle go in front of their troops to stimulate them\nto valor, so Christ, the Captain of our Salvation, leads on\nthe consecrated hosts of His elect; and having himself set us a\nglorious example of valor and victory, animates us to follow in His\nfootsteps by the \"exceeding great and precious promises\" of His\nword. Christian warrior! let your eye be lifted up to Him. Behold\nHim beckoning you onward. Listen to Him, as from His throne of\nglory He exhorts you to persevering valor against the foe; and pray\nearnestly that His promise may be fulfilled in your case: \"To him\nthat overcometh will I give to eat of the hidden manna, and will\ngive him a white stone, and in the stone a new name written, which\nno man knoweth saving he that receiveth it.\"\n\nLet us consider first, the promise; then, the condition attached to\nit.\n\nI. The promise. This is twofold,--the hidden manna and the white\nstone.\n\n1. The hidden manna.--God fed the Israelites in the wilderness\nwith manna. A portion of this was laid by in the ark, and thus was\nhidden from public view. It is here referred to as a figurative\nrepresentation of the spiritual blessings bestowed upon the victor\nin the heavenly fight. Christ, speaking of the manna as a type of\nHimself, said, \"I am the bread which came down from heaven.\" The\nmanna in the wilderness sustained the life of the Israelites.\n\nBut there is another life more important than that of the body. By\nsin the soul is dead, dead toward God. By the Holy Spirit, the\n\"dead in trespasses and sins\" are \"quickened,\" or made alive. As the\nlife of the new-born infant cannot be preserved without food, so\nthe new spiritual life which God imparts needs continual support.\nBoth the life, and the nourishing of it, come from Christ, and\nChrist alone. By His sacrifice that life becomes possible; and by\nHis spirit working within our hearts that life becomes actual. He\nsustains as well as imparts spiritual vitality. He is the food of\nour faith: \"believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be\nsaved.\" He is the food of our love: \"we love him because he first\nloved us.\" He is the food of our obedience: \"the love of Christ\nconstraineth us.\" He is the food of our peace: for when \"justified\nby faith, we have peace with God through Jesus Christ our Lord.\" He\nis the food of our joy: for if \"we joy in God\" it is \"through Jesus\nChrist our Lord.\"\n\nThe manna which sustained the Israelites was evidently the gift of\nGod. And so this \"hidden manna\" is from heaven. It is no contrivance\nof man--no philosophy of human invention. It is a divine plan for\nthe salvation of our ruined race. \"God so loved the world that he\ngave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should\nnot perish but should have everlasting life.\" That manna in the\nwilderness was sweet to the taste; yet they who fed on it grew\nweary of it. But the more we eat of the bread of life, the more\nwe relish it--the greater is our appetite for it. That manna in\nthe wilderness was needed daily. And so with this heavenly bread.\nYesterday's supply will not suffice for to-day. The prayer is as\nneedful for the soul as for the body: \"Give us this day our daily\nbread.\" But if that manna was needed daily, so it was supplied; none\nwent in vain at the appointed season--and no soul that \"hungers\nand thirsts after righteousness\" is sent empty away. The manna was\nsupplied to the Israelites till they came to the promised land--so\nGod has promised that His grace shall not fail His people through\ntheir wanderings.\n\nIt is spoken of as the \"hidden manna.\" Such is the Christian's life.\n\"Our life is hid with Christ in God.\" The outward effects of it may\nbe seen, but the inner life is invisible. So is the nourishing of\nthe life. You may see the Christian on his knees, you may hear the\nwords which he utters, but you cannot see the streams of divine\ninfluence which are poured into his spirit; nor hear the sweet\nwhispers of divine love which fill him with joy; nor comprehend the\npeace passing all understanding which he is permitted to experience.\nUnbelievers are often amazed at what they see in the Christian. He\nis troubled on every side, yet not in despair. Waves of sorrow beat\nupon his frail vessel, yet it does not sink. Men now threaten, now\nallure, but he holds on his way. What to others is an irresistible\ncharm, is no attraction to him. What is a terror to others, deters\nnot him. Why does he not faint beneath the burden? why does he not\nsink in the storm? Because he eats of the \"hidden manna.\" \"The\nsecret of the Lord is with them that fear him.\" \"He hath taken him\ninto his banqueting-room, and the banner over him is love.\"\n\nWere this promise merely the reward of final victory, that victory\nitself would never be gained. We need to eat this manna during our\npilgrimage. We cannot live without it. Every act of overcoming will\nbe followed by a verification of the promise, \"I will give him to\neat of the hidden manna.\" Yet we must look beyond the present life\nfor its full accomplishment. \"To him that overcometh\" at the last\n\"shall be given the hidden manna,\" in a sense of which at present we\nhave but a very faint conception.\n\nAs the manna was hidden in the ark, and that ark was hidden behind\nthe curtain of the Holy of Holies, so the Christian's hope, \"as\nan anchor of the soul, sure and stedfast, enters into that which\nis within the veil.\" Those joys we cannot yet conjecture; their\nsplendor is too intense; we should be blinded by excessive light; we\nshould be overpowered by the excellent glory.\n\nOne look of heaven would unfit us for earth. It is wisely appointed\nthat at present this manna should in one sense be hidden, even from\nourselves. We are as yet but babes--such strong meat would not suit\nus now; we must be content with simpler fare. But oh! if the manna,\ntho at present so partially and imperfectly appreciated, can produce\nsuch peace and joy, what must be the bliss of entering into the\nholiest of all, and there, in the presence of God Himself, feasting\non it eternally! Unceasing, unlimited reception of divine influences\ninto the soul!\n\nUninterrupted fellowship with Him who is the only fountain of life,\nand purity, and happiness! Perfect love! But at present such full\nfruition is \"hidden.\" \"Now we see through a glass darkly\"; \"now we\nknow but in part\"; \"it doth not yet appear what we shall be.\" But\nhow unspeakably blest are they to whom, partially in this world and\nperfectly in the next, the promise shall be verified: \"To him that\novercometh will I give to eat of the hidden manna\"!\n\n2. The white stone.--Reference is made to the _tessera hospitalis_,\nthe tally or token of hospitality employed by the ancients. At a\ntime when houses of public entertainment were less common, private\nhospitality was the more necessary. When one person was received\nkindly by another, or a contract of friendship was entered into,\nthe _tessera_ was given. It was so named from its shape, being\nfour-sided; it was sometimes of wood; sometimes of stone; it was\ndivided into two by the contracting parties; each wrote his own name\non half of the _tessera_; then they exchanged pieces, and therefore\nthe name or device on the piece of _tessera_ which each received,\nwas the name the other person had written upon it, and which no one\nelse knew but him who received it. It was carefully prized, and\nentitled the bearer to protection and hospitality.\n\nPlautus, in one of his playes, refers to this custom. Hanno inquires\nof a stranger where he may find Agorastocles, and discovers to his\nsurprize that he is addressing the object of his search.\n\n\"If so,\" he says, \"compare, if you please, this hospitable\n_tessera_; here it is; I have it with me.\"\n\nAgorastocles replies, \"It is the exact counterpart; I have the other\npart at home.\"\n\nHanno responds, \"O my friend! I rejoice to meet thee; thy father was\nmy friend, my guest; I divided with him this hospitable _tessera_.\"\n\"Therefore,\" said Agorastocles, \"thou shalt have a home with me, for\nI reverence hospitality.\"\n\nBeautiful illustration of gospel truth! The Savior visits the\nsinner's heart, and being received as a guest, bestows the white\nstone, the token of His unchanging love. It is not we who in the\nfirst instance desire this compact. Far from it.\n\nBut Jesus, anxious to bless us, kindly forces Himself on our regard.\nBy His spirit, he persuades us to give Him admission to our hearts.\n\"Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if any man hear my voice\nand open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him,\nand he with me.\" We often disregarded His appeal. Yet, with what\ncondescending kindness did he persevere! And when at length we\nopened the door, we saw Him laden with blessings which He had been\nlong waiting to bestow. The feast which was then spread was all\nof His providing. He who went to be \"the guest of one that was a\nsinner,\" inverts the usual course. He invites Himself and brings the\nfeast. What have we fit to set before so august and holy a visitant?\nBut He who chooses the sinner's heart as His banqueting-chamber,\nspreads there His choicest gifts, His exceeding great and precious\npromises, His finished sacrifice, His human sympathy, His perfect\nexample, His pure precepts, His all-prevailing intercession, the\nvarious developments of His infinite love.\n\nHe \"sups with us,\" and makes us \"sup with Him.\" He enrolls our\nname among His friends. \"He makes an everlasting covenant with us,\nordered in all things and sure.\" He promises never to leave nor\nforsake us. He tells us we \"shall never perish.\" He gives us the\n_tessera_, the white stone!\n\nIs not this \"the witness of the Spirit,\" the \"earnest of the\npromised possession\"? Does not \"the Spirit witness with our spirit\nthat we are born of God\"? Does not our experience of the friendship\nof Jesus correspond with what we are taught of it in the Scriptures?\n\"I know in whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to\nkeep that which I have committed unto him, against that day.\" The\n\"love of God is shed abroad\" in the heart of the believer. He says,\nwith humble confidence, \"My Lord, and my God!\"\n\nOn this white stone is inscribed a \"new name.\" The part of the\n_tessera_ which each of the contracting parties received contained\nthe name of the other. And, therefore, \"the new name\" on the \"white\nstone,\" which he that overcometh receives, is that of Him who gives.\nBy the unbeliever, God is known as Power, as Majesty, as Justice. He\nis dreaded. \"The carnal mind is enmity against God.\" The Christian\nalone knows Him as \"Love!\" Jehovah has now \"a new name.\" He was once\na ruler--now He is Friend; He was once judge--now He is Father.\n\nDo you know God by His \"new name\"? Do you so know Him as to wish\nno longer to hide from Him, but to hide in Him, as the only home\nthe universe can furnish in which you can be safe and happy? Have\nyou learned to say, \"Our Father which art in heaven\"? If we have,\nindeed, received this \"white stone,\" let us continually be reading\nthe \"new name\" engraven on it. Here I am assured that the Holy Ghost\nis my teacher, my guide, my comforter; that the eternal Word, the\nonly begotten Son, is my Savior, my Friend, my Brother; that the\ninfinite Jehovah is my Father, and that \"like as a father pitieth\nhis children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him.\"\n\nWe are told that no man knoweth this new name, \"saving he that\nreceiveth it.\" He knows it for himself, but no one else can read it\nfor him. Thus it resembles the \"hidden manna.\" The frivolous may\nderide, fools may mock, the unbeliever may deny, the sceptic may\nbring forth his objections in all the pride of a false philosophy,\nbut the Christian, even if unable to reply to the caviller, or to\nmake intelligible to any other mind his own strong assurance, has an\nevidence within him which nothing can shake, for God has written on\nhis heart \"His new best name of Love.\"\n\nFellow pilgrims to the heavenly Canaan, how precious is this token!\nWe are travelers through the desert; for tho the enjoyments of\nearth are many, yet this life, compared with what is to come, is a\nwilderness. We are away from home; we are exposed to privations,\ntempests, foes; we constantly need a refuge. But we are never far\nfrom the house of a friend. Everywhere, in every city and in every\nvillage, on the desert and on the ocean, in the solitude of secrecy,\nand in the solitude of a crowd, in the bustle of business, and in\nthe sick chamber, a Friend is at hand, who will always recognize the\nwhite stone He gave us, a token of His love. We have only to present\nit to claim the fulfilment of His promise.\n\nHow wide will the door be thrown open for our reception! What divine\nentertainment we shall receive! what safety from peril! what succor\nin difficulty! what comfort in trouble! what white raiment! what\nheavenly food! O that we valued the _tessera_ more, that we sought\nmore frequent interviews with our heavenly Friend, that we more\nhabitually resorted as invited guests to Jesus, and dwelt in Him as\nthe home of our souls! We shall never find the door closed against\nus; we shall never be received reluctantly; He will never allow us\nto think that we are intruders. Jesus is never ashamed of His poor\nrelations, nor treats them coldly because they need His help. The\ngreater our distress, the more shall we prove His liberality and\ntender sympathy.\n\nAnd as regards this stone, as well as the hidden manna, we can look\nbeyond the present life. A day is coming when we shall be compelled\nto leave the homes of earth, however endeared. We must embrace\nfor the last time the friends united to us as our own souls. Tho\nwe have traveled along the road many a year together, we must now\nseparate, and go alone. They may accompany us to the river side, but\nwe must cross it by ourselves. What cheering voice will greet us\nthen? What kind roof will receive us then? What loving friend will\nwelcome us then?\n\nBut we shall not have left our best treasure behind us! No! we shall\ncarry the white stone with us; and with this we shall look for no\ninferior abode, but with unhesitating step shall advance at once\nright up to the palace of the Great King. We present the _tessera_;\nthe \"new name\" is legible upon it; the angelic guards recognize the\nsymbol; the everlasting gates lift up their heads; and the voice of\nJesus Himself invites us to enter, saying, \"Come, ye blessed of my\nFather, inherit the kingdom!\"\n\nSuch is the welcome that every soul shall experience to whom the\npromise is fulfilled: \"I will give him a white stone, and in the\nstone a new name written, which no man knoweth, saving he that\nreceiveth it.\"\n\nII. The condition annexed to the promise, \"To him that overcometh!\"\n\nA great war is going on between the Church and the powers of\ndarkness. It is not an affair of strategy between two vast armies,\nwherein skilful maneuvers determine the issue, many on either side\nnever coming into actual combat; but every Christian has to fight\nhand to hand with the enemy. We cannot be lost in the crowd. We may\nnot stand in the middle of the hollow square, without sharing the\nperils of the outer rank. Every Christian must not only occupy his\npost in the grand army, but must personally grapple with the foe.\n\nBefore conversion there was no fighting. The devil's suggestions\nand the heart's inclination were allied. Then we did the enemy's\nbidding, or were lulled to sleep by his intoxicating cup. But when\nlight shone into the soul, and we strove to escape, the struggle\nbegan. God, as our Creator and Redeemer, justly demands our\nobedience and love. Whatever interferes with these claims, is an\nenemy summoning us to battle. The world of frivolity is our foe.\nHow numerous and insinuating are its temptations--the more perilous\nbecause of the difficulty of defining them!\n\nMoreover, lawful pleasures and necessary cares become dangerous when\nthey cease to be subordinate to the love of God. The enjoyments\nHe bestows and the labors He appoints are calculated to minister\nto godliness,--and yet they may be perverted to idolatry by our\nforgetting Him on whom our highest thoughts should be fixt. What\ndanger is there that things in themselves holy and beautiful may\nthus become pernicious and destructive!\n\nThe flesh, too, furnished its contingent to the army of our foes.\nNot that any of our natural appetites, being divinely bestowed, can\nhave in them the nature of sin. No! the flesh, as God made it, is\npure and holy. But those instincts, which, regulated by the revealed\nwill of their Author, are \"holiness to the Lord,\" may, by unhallowed\ngratification, become those \"fleshly lusts which war against the\nsoul.\" As we carry about with us these animal propensities, there is\nnecessity for constant vigilence lest our own nature, being abused,\nshould become our destroyer.\n\nInbred depravity lurks in the heart of even the true believer. Tho\ndethroned, it is not completely expelled. With what selfishness,\ncovetousness, vanity, hastiness of temper, uncharitableness, have we\nnot to contend! Who has not some sin which most easily besets him?\nHow varied are the forms of unbelief! Spiritual pride, too, corrupts\nour very graces, piety itself furnishing an occasion of evil, so\nthat when we have conquered some temptation or performed some duty,\nour victory is often tarnished, our holy things corrupted, by our\nfalling into the snare of self-complacency.\n\nAbove all, there is that great adversary who \"goeth about as a\nroaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.\" He avails himself of the\nworld, and the flesh, and the infirmities of the spirit, to tempt\nthe soul of sin. This is no fable, altho one of Satan's most skilful\nstratagems is to make men disbelieve in his existence. Overlooked\nor despised, a foe is already half victorious. But the Captain of\nour Salvation, in His word, often warns us both of the craft and of\nthe violence of our adversary. We sometimes read of \"the wiles of\nthe devil\"; and sometimes of \"the fiery darts of the wicked one.\"\nThey who fail to watch and pray, are sure to be vanquished by such a\nfoe.\n\nThese are our enemies! And if we would possess the promise we must\n\"overcome.\" A mere profession of religion is of no avail. It is not\nenough for our name to appear on the muster-roll of the camp. Many\nwear the soldier's dress who know nothing of the soldier's heart.\nMany are glad to glitter on the grand parade who fall off from the\nhard-fought, blood-stained battle-field. It is not enough to buckle\non our armor; many do this, and lay it aside again. We must devote\nourselves to this great daily battle of life.\n\nThere is no exemption of persons. Women must fight, as well as men;\nthe tender and timid must be as Amazons in the conflict. Children\nmust carry the shield, and wield the sword. The aged and infirm must\nkeep the ranks. The sick and wounded must not be carried to the\nrear. No substitute can be provided, and there is no discharge in\nthis war.\n\nThere is no exemption on account of circumstances. The rich and\npoor, the learned and the unlearned, the cheerful and the sad,\nall must fight. No accumulation of trouble, no unexpected death of\nfriends, can be an excuse for laying down our arms. We must go to\nthe marriage feast, and we must attend the funeral procession, as\nwarriors, wearing our armor and grasping our weapons. We must be\nlike those spoken of by Nehemiah, \"every man with one hand wrought\nin the work, and with the other hand held a weapon.\"\n\nThere is no exemption of place. Foes lie in wait for the Christian\nwherever he goes--in the mart of commerce, in the busy workshop,\nwhen he returns to his home, when he rests on his bed, in the\nbustle of the day, in the silence of the night, in the circle of\nhis friends, in the bosom of his family, in society, alone, in the\ncity, in the fields, in his walks of benevolence, in his private\nmeditations, in the church, in his secret retirement, when he\nworships with the great congregation, and when he enters his closet\nand shuts the door. He can never elude the enemy; he carries the foe\nin his own breast; the conflict ceases not!\n\nThere is no exemption of time, no season of rest. No truce is\nsounded. Satan never beats a retreat, except to lead us into an\nambuscade. No white flag comes out that can be trusted. If we parley\nit is at our peril; if we pause, we are wounded or taken captive.\nWars on earth may often terminate by mutual agreement. It is a war\nof extermination; no quarter is given; either we must trample Satan\nunder foot, or Satan will drag us down to hell!\n\nIt is a warfare until death. While we are in the body it will be\nalways true--\"We wrestle.\" The oldest Christian cannot lay aside his\nweapons. \"Having done all, stand.\" A great word that! \"Having done\nall!\" \"What!\" you may say, \"after a long life of conflict, surely I\nmay put aside my armor, and sheathe my sword, and recline on some\nsunny bank, and enjoy myself after my victory!\"\n\nNo; you must not expect it; \"having done all\" it is enough if you\nstand at bay on the battle-ground; all you can hope for in this\nworld is to maintain your post, still defying the foe, who will be\nstill meditating fresh attacks. You will never be able to say with\nSt. Paul, \"I have finished my course.\"\n\nIt is not the appearance of fighting. It is not a few faint,\nirresolute strokes. \"So fight I,\" said the Apostle, \"not as one\nthat beateth the air.\" We must be resolute, determined, in earnest,\ngiving our enemy no advantage. We must \"not give place to the\ndevil.\" We must watch against the smallest beginnings of sin. By\n\"keeping the heart with all diligence,\" by putting on \"the whole\narmor of God,\" by having faith as our shield, righteousness as\nour breastplate, the hope of salvation as our helmet, by keeping\n\"the sword of the Spirit\" bright with exercise, \"praying with all\nprayer,\" standing near our Captain, looking to Him, relying upon\nHim, knowing that \"without Him we can do nothing,\"--so must we\nfight! All this is necessary, if we would overcome.\n\nIt is not so easy to fight this fight as some suppose. It is not\na true faith merely, an evangelical creed, a scriptural church, a\ncomfortable sermon once or twice a week, a little Sabbath-keeping,\nan agreeable pause in your pleasures, giving to them a new\nrelish--it is not this which constitutes Christianity. You that\nthink religion so very easy a thing, have a care at least, lest when\ntoo late, you find that you know not what true religion meant.\n\nEasy? A depraved being to trample upon his lusts--a proud being to\nlie prostrate with humility and self-reproach--they that are \"slow\nof heart to believe,\" to receive the gospel as little children?\n\nEasy? To \"crucify the flesh,\" \"to deny ungodliness,\" \"to cut off a\nright hand, and to pluck out a right eye\"?\n\nEasy? To be in the world, and yet not of the world--to come out\nfrom it, not by the seclusion of the cloister, but by holiness\nof life--to be diligent in its duties, yet not absorbed by them;\nappreciating its innocent delights, and yet not ensnared by them;\nbeholding its attractions and yet rising superior to them?\n\nEasy? To live surrounded by objects which appeal to the sight, and\nyet to endure as seeing what is invisible?\n\nEasy? To pray and see no answer to prayer, and still pray on--to\nfight this battle, and find fresh foes ever rising up, yet still to\nfight on--to be harassed with doubts and fears, and yet walk on in\ndarkness, tho we see no light, staying ourselves upon God?\n\nEasy? To be preparing for a world we have never visited, in\nopposition to so much that is captivating in a world where we have\nalways dwelt, whose beauties we have seen, whose music we have\nheard, whose pleasures we have experienced?\n\nEasy? To resist that subtle foe who has cast down so many of the\nwise and the mighty?\n\nEasy? When Jesus says it is a \"strait gate,\" and that if we would\nenter we must \"strive,\" bidding us \"take up our cross daily, deny\nourselves and follow him\"? Ah! it is no soft flowery meadow, along\nwhich we may languidly stroll, but a rough, craggy cliff that we\nmust climb. \"To him that overcometh!\" It is no smooth, placid\nstream, along which we may dreamily float, but a tempestuous ocean\nwe must stem. \"To him that overcometh!\" It is no easy lolling in\na cushioned chariot, that bears us on without fatigue and peril.\nThe trumpet has sounded to arms; it is not peace, but war, war\nfor liberty, war for life, on the issue of which our everlasting\ndestiny depends! If we are to be saved, we must \"overcome.\"\n\nBut tho the conflict is arduous, the encouragements are great. We\nhave armor of proof. We have a mighty Champion. Victory is ensured\nto the brave. Others who stood on the same battle-field and fought\nwith the same enemies, are now enjoying an eternal triumph. Not one\nfaithful warrior ever perished. Their foes were not fewer than ours,\ntheir strength was not greater. They overcame by the same \"blood of\nthe Lamb\" on which we rely.\n\n    \"Once they were mourning here below,\n       And wet their couch with tears;\n     They wrestled hard, as we do now,\n       With sins, and doubts, and fears.\"\n\nBut they are wearing their crowns, they are enjoying their rest;\nand the feeblest and most unworthy of our own day, trusting in the\nsame Savior, shall inherit the same promise. Then let us overcome.\nSheathe not the sword, and it shall never be wrested from you; lay\nnot down the shield, and no fiery dart shall ever penetrate it; face\nthe foe, and he shall never trample you down, never drive you back.\n\nListen to your Captain; how He animates you onward! Look to the\ncrown he is ready to bestow upon you; eat of the hidden manna\nwhich He gives; read the name in the \"white stone,\"--the name of\nGod,--His name of love, recorded for your encouragement; and thus\nbe animated to walk worthy of this holy alliance, and not to allow\nthe foe to wrench from you such an assurance of divine favor, such a\npassport to heavenly bliss.\n\nA little more conflict, and that \"white stone\" shall introduce you\nto the inheritance above, where, in the everlasting repose of the\ninner sanctuary, you shall without intermission eat of the hidden\nmanna.\n\n    \"Then let my soul march boldly on,\n       Press forward to the heavenly gate;\n     There peace and joy eternal reign,\n       And glittering robes for conquerors wait.\"\n\nSome of you may consider this subject visionary and unreal. You\nsay, \"I know nothing of this warfare. I know what the conflict of\nbusiness is, the race of fashion, the bustle of toil or pleasure;\nbut to anxiety about spiritual things I am a stranger.\"\n\nYou are enjoying peace--but--what peace? There is a captive in a\ndungeon--his limbs are fast chained to the walls--yet he is singing\nsongs. How is it? Satan has given him to drink of his drugged cup,\nand he does not know where he is. Look at that other. He says, \"it\nis peace.\" There is truly no fighting, but he is groveling in the\ndust, and the heel of his foe is upon his neck. Such is the peace\nof every one going on in his wickedness, unpardoned and unsaved.\n\"Taken captive by the devil at his will.\"\n\nChained in Satan's boat, you are swiftly gliding down the stream\nto ruin, and because it is smooth, you dream that it is safe! What\nis the difference between the saint and the sinner? Not that in\nthe saint there is no sin. Not that in the sinner there is never\na thought about God. The difference is this--that the saint is\novercoming his sin; but the sin is overcoming the sinner. Oh, what\na terrible thing if sin have the upper hand! No \"hidden manna\" is\nyours. The symbols of religion you may look at, but real religion\nmust be a stranger to you. You know not its enjoyment. You do not\ntaste it. It is a hidden thing. Heaven too will be hidden. You hear\nof its gates of pearl--but they will never open to you. You may\ncatch the distant accents of its songs--but in those songs you will\nnever join. And that \"white stone\" cannot be yours. You have no\njoyful anticipation of heaven--but a fearful looking-for of fiery\nindignation--or else the insensate resolve not to think at all. And\nthe \"new name\"--no! you cannot read it! You know God by no such\nname as makes you seek His company. The thought of Him renders you\nunhappy, and therefore you banish it from your mind. You are not\nnow alarmed, but soon the spell may be broken, and you may find the\nchains riveted upon your soul forever.\n\nI fancy I hear you say, \"I wish that before it is too late, I could\nescape! But mine is a hopeless case. My heart is hardened against\nthe gospel, and evil habit has so got the mastery over me, that I\nhave no power to begin this conflict!\"\n\nNo, you have no power; but One has visited this world, and taken our\nnature, who can help you. The mighty Son of God became the suffering\nSon of Man that He might be the liberator of our enslaved race. He\nburst open the prison doors, that captive souls might escape. He\nstands near you, ready to break off your fetters and strengthen you\nto fight the enemy who has so long opprest you. Tell Him your simple\nbut sad tale; how helpless, how miserable, how ruined you are! Tell\nHim you want to be saved, but know not how to begin the work, and\nask Him both to begin and complete it for you! Let your prayer be\nthis: \"Be merciful to me, a sinner\"; and He who \"came to destroy\nthe works of the devil,\" He \"whose nature and property is ever to\nhave mercy and to forgive,\" will receive your \"humble petitions; and\ntho you be tied and bound with the chain of your sins, He, in the\npitifulness of His great mercy, will loose you.\"\n\nHe will pardon your past shameful concessions to the foe, and,\narraying you in \"the whole armor of God,\" and animating you with His\nHoly Spirit, He will enable you so to fight against the world, the\nflesh, and the devil, that you also shall share in the prize of them\nthat overcome; you also shall eat of the \"hidden manna,\" and receive\nthe \"white stone.\"\n\n\n\n\nROBERTSON\n\nTHE LONELINESS OF CHRIST\n\n\n\n\nBIOGRAPHICAL NOTE\n\n\nFREDERICK WILLIAM ROBERTSON, was born in London in 1816, educated\nat Edinburgh University and took his degree at Oxford in 1841.\nFrom a law office he passed into the ministry, where his career,\ntho brief, was exceptionally brilliant. His English style commends\nitself to the preacher's study for its naturalness, poetic beauty,\nlucidity, and strength. It is the style of a man of unique genius.\nIn Aug., 1847, he began his remarkable ministry at Trinity Chapel,\nBrighton. He died of consumption at Brighton in 1853, little more\nthan thirty-six years of age.\n\nPerhaps the most remarkable feature in the career of Robertson was\nthe influence he exercised over the workingmen. This class had in\nhis day become estranged from the Church of England, few of whose\nclergy had any power to attract their attention and adherence.\nHe was denounced as a socialist because of his foundation of a\nworkingmen's institute, and the opposition and vilification which he\nthus met with no doubt helped to shorten his life.\n\n\n\n\nROBERTSON\n\n1816-1853\n\nTHE LONELINESS OF CHRIST\n\n     _Jesus answered them, Do ye now believe? Behold, the hour\n     cometh, yea, is now come, that ye shall be scattered every man\n     to his own, and shall leave me alone; and yet I am not alone,\n     because the Father is with me._--John xvi., 31, 32.\n\n\nThere are two kinds of solitude: the first, consisting of isolation\nin space; the other, of isolation of the spirit. The first is simply\nseparation by distance. When we are seen, touched, heard by none, we\nare said to be alone. And all hearts respond to the truth of that\nsaying, This is not solitude; for sympathy can people our solitude\nwith a crowd. The fisherman on the ocean alone at night is not\nalone, when he remembers the earnest longings which are rising up to\nheaven at home for his safety. The traveler is not alone, when the\nfaces which will greet him on his arrival seem to beam upon him as\nhe trudges on. The solitary student is not alone, when he feels that\nhuman hearts will respond to the truths which he is preparing to\naddress to them.\n\nThe other is loneliness of soul. There are times when hands touch\nours, but only send an icy chill of unsympathizing indifference to\nthe heart; when eyes gaze into ours, but with a glazed look which\ncan not read into the bottom of our souls; when words pass from\nour lips, but only come back as an echo reverberated without reply\nthrough a dreary solitude; when the multitude throng and press us,\nand we can not say, as Christ said, \"Somebody hath touched me\"; for\nthe contact has been not between soul and soul, but only between\nform and form.\n\nAnd there are two kinds of men, who feel this last\nsolitude in different ways. The first are the men of\nself-reliance--self-dependent--who ask no counsel, and crave no\nsympathy; who act and resolve alone, who can go sternly through\nduty, and scarcely shrink, let what will be crushed in them. Such\nmen command respect: for whoever respects himself constrains the\nrespect of others. They are invaluable in all those professions of\nlife in which sensitive feeling would be a superfluity; they make\niron commanders, surgeons who do not shrink, and statesmen who do\nnot flinch from their purpose for the dread of unpopularity. But\nmere self-dependence is weakness; and the conflict is terrible when\na human sense of weakness is felt by such men. Jacob was alone when\nhe slept on his way to Padan Aram, the first night that he was away\nfrom his father's roof, with the world before him, and all the old\nbroken up; and Elijah was alone in the wilderness when the court\nhad deserted him, and he said, \"They have digged down thine altars,\nand slain thy prophets with the sword: and I, even I, only am left,\nand they seek my life to take it away.\" But the loneliness of the\ntender Jacob was very different from that of the stern Elijah.\nTo Jacob the sympathy he yearned for was realized in the form of\na gentle dream. A ladder raised from earth to heaven figured the\npossibility of communion between the spirit of man and the Spirit\nof God. In Elijah's case, the storm, and the earthquake, and the\nfire did their convulsing work in the soul, before a still, small\nvoice told him that he was not alone. In such a spirit the sense of\nweakness comes with a burst of agony, and the dreadful conviction of\nbeing alone manifests itself with a rending of the heart of rock.\nIt is only so that such souls can be taught that the Father is with\nthem, and that they are not alone.\n\nThere is another class of men, who live in sympathy. These are\naffectionate minds, which tremble at the thought of being alone;\nnot from want of courage nor from weakness of intellect comes their\ndependence upon others, but from the intensity of their affections.\nIt is the trembling spirit of humanity in them. They want not aid,\nnot even countenance, but only sympathy. And then trial comes to\nthem not in the shape of fierce struggle, but of chill and utter\nloneliness, when they are called upon to perform a duty on which\nthe world looks coldly, or to embrace a truth which has not found\nlodgment yet in the breasts of others.\n\nIt is to this latter and not to the former class that we must\nlook, if we could understand the spirit in which the words of the\ntext were pronounced. The deep humanity of the soul of Christ was\ngifted with those finer sensibilities of affectionate nature which\nstand in need of sympathy. He not only gave sympathy, but wanted\nit, too, from others. He who selected the gentle John to be His\nfriend, who found solace in female sympathy, attended by the women\nwho ministered to Him out of their substance--who in the trial hour\ncould not bear even to pray without the human presence, which is the\npledge and reminder of God's presence, had nothing in Him of the\nhard, merely self-dependent character. Even this verse testifies\nto the same fact. A stern spirit never could have said, \"I am not\nalone: the Father is with me\"; never would have felt the loneliness\nwhich needed the balancing truth. These words tell of a struggle, an\ninward reasoning, a difficulty and a reply, a sense of solitude--\"I\nshall be alone\"; and an immediate correction of that: \"Not alone:\nthe Father is with me.\"\n\nThere is no thought connected with the life of Christ more touching,\nnone that seems so peculiarly to characterize His spirit, as the\nsolitariness in which He lived. Those who understood Him best only\nunderstood Him half. Those who knew Him best scarcely could be\nsaid to know Him. On this occasion the disciples thought, Now we\ndo understand, now we do believe. The lonely spirit answered, \"Do\nye now believe? Behold the hour cometh that ye shall be scattered,\nevery man to his own, and shall leave me alone.\"\n\nVery impressive is that trait in His history. He was in this world\nalone.\n\nI. First, then, we meditate on the loneliness of Christ.\n\nThe loneliness of Christ was caused by the divine elevation of His\ncharacter. His infinite superiority severed Him from sympathy; His\nexquisite affectionateness made that want of sympathy a keen trial.\n\nThere is a second-rate greatness which the world can comprehend. If\nwe take two who are brought into direct contrast by Christ Himself,\nthe one the type of human, the other that of divine excellence, the\nSon of Man and John the Baptist, this becomes clearly manifest.\nJohn's life had a certain rude, rugged goodness, on which was\nwritten, in characters which required no magnifying-glass to read,\nspiritual excellence. The world, on the whole, accepted him.\nPharisees and Sadducees went to his baptism. The people idolized\nhim as a prophet; and, if he had not chanced to cross the path\nof a weak prince and a revengeful woman, we can see no reason why\nJohn might not have finished his course with joy, recognized as\nirreproachable. If we inquire why it was that the world accepted\nJohn and rejected Christ, one reply appears to be, that the life\nof the one was infinitely simple and one-sided, that of the other\ndivinely complex. In physical nature, the naturalist finds no\ndifficulty in comprehending the simple structure of the lowest\norganizations of animal life, where one uniform texture, and one\norgan performing the office of brain and heart and lungs, at once,\nleave little to perplex. But when he comes to study the complex\nanatomy of men, he has the labor of a lifetime before him. It is not\ndifficult to master the constitution of a single country; but when\nyou try to understand the universe, you find infinite appearances\nof contradiction: law opposed by law; motion balanced by motion;\nhappiness blended with misery; and the power to elicit a divine\norder and unity out of this complex variety is given to only a\nfew of the gifted of the race. That which the structure of man is\nto the structure of the limpet, that which the universe is to a\nsingle country, the complex and boundless soul of Christ was to the\nsouls of other men. Therefore, to the superficial observer, His\nlife was a mass of inconsistencies and contradictions. All thought\nthemselves qualified to point out the discrepancies. The Pharisees\ncould not comprehend how a holy Teacher could eat with publicans\nand sinners. His own brethren could not reconcile His assumption\nof a public office with the privacy which He aimed at keeping. \"If\nthou doest these things, show thyself to the world.\" Some thought He\nwas \"a good man\"; others said, \"Nay, but he deceiveth the people.\"\nAnd hence it was that He lived to see all that acceptance which\nhad marked the earlier stage of His career--as, for instance, at\nCapernaum--melt away. First, the Pharisees took the alarm; then\nthe Sadducees; then the political party of the Herodians; then the\npeople. That was the most terrible of all: for the enmity of the\nupper classes is impotent; but when that cry of brute force is\nstirred from the deeps of society, as deaf to the voice of reason as\nthe ocean in its strength churned into raving foam by the winds, the\nheart of mere earthly oak quails before that. The apostles, at all\nevents, did quail. One denied; another betrayed; all deserted. They\n\"were scattered, each to his own\": and the Truth Himself was left\nalone in Pilate's judgment hall.\n\nNow learn from this a very important distinction. To feel solitary\nis no uncommon thing. To complain of being alone, without sympathy,\nand misunderstood, is general enough. In every place, in many a\nfamily, these victims of diseased sensibility are to be found, and\nthey might find a weakening satisfaction in observing a parallel\nbetween their own feelings and those of Jesus. But before that\nparallel is assumed, be very sure that it is, as in His case, the\nelevation of your character which severs you from your species. The\nworld has small sympathy for divine goodness; but it also has little\nfor a great many other qualities which are disagreeable to it. You\nmeet with no response; you are passed by; find yourself unpopular;\nmeet with little communion. Well! Is that because you are above\nin the world--nobler, devising and executing grand plans, which\nthey can not comprehend; vindicating the wronged; proclaiming and\nliving on great principles; offending it by the saintliness of your\npurity, and the unworldliness of your aspirations? Then yours is\nthe loneliness of Christ. Or is it that you are wrapped up in self,\ncold, disobliging, sentimental, indifferent about the welfare of\nothers, and very much astonished that they are not deeply interested\nin you? You must not use these words of Christ. They have nothing to\ndo with you.\n\nLet us look at one or two of the occasions on which this loneliness\nwas felt.\n\nThe first time was when He was but twelve years old, when His\nparents found Him in the temple, hearing the doctors and asking them\nquestions. High thoughts were in the Child's soul: expanding views\nof life; larger views of duty, and His own destiny.\n\nThere is a moment in every true life--to some it comes very\nearly--when the old routine of duty is not large enough; when the\nparental roof seems too low, because the Infinite above is arching\nover the soul; when the old formulas, in creeds, catechisms, and\narticles, seem to be narrow, and they must either be thrown aside,\nor else transformed into living and breathing realities; when the\nearthly father's authority is being superseded by the claims of a\nFather in Heaven.\n\nThat is a lonely, lonely moment, when the young soul first feels\nGod--when this earth is recognized as an \"awful place, yea, the very\ngate of heaven\"; when the dream-ladder is seen planted against the\nskies, and we wake, and the dream haunts us as a sublime reality.\n\nYou may detect the approach of that moment in the young man or\nthe young woman by the awakened spirit of inquiry; by a certain\nrestlessness of look, and an eager earnestness of tone; by the\ndevouring study of all kinds of books; by the waning of your own\ninfluence, while the inquirer is asking the truth of the doctors\nand teachers in the vast temple of the world; by a certain\nopinionativeness, which is austere and disagreeable enough; but\nthe austerest moment of the fruit's taste is that in which it is\npassing from greenness into ripeness. If you wait in patience, the\nsour will become sweet. Rightly looked at, that opinionativeness is\nmore truly anguish; the fearful solitude of feeling the insecurity\nof all that is human; the discovery that life is real, and forms of\nsocial and religious existence hollow. The old moorings are torn\naway, and the soul is drifting, drifting, drifting, very often\nwithout compass, except the guidance of an unseen hand, into the\nvast infinite of God. Then come the lonely words, and no wonder.\n\"How is it that ye sought me? Wist ye not that I must be about my\nFather's business?\"\n\nThat solitude was felt by Christ in trial. In the desert, in\nPilate's judgment hall, in the garden, He was alone; and alone must\nevery son of man meet his trial-hour. The individuality of the soul\nnecessitates that. Each man is a new soul in this world: untried,\nwith a boundless \"Possible\" before him. No one can predict what\nhe may become, prescribe his duties, or mark out his obligations.\nEach man's own nature has its own peculiar rules; and he must take\nup his life-plan alone, and persevere in it in a perfect privacy\nwith which no stranger intermeddleth. Each man's temptations are\nmade up of a host of peculiarities, internal and external, which no\nother mind can measure. You are tried alone; alone you pass into\nthe desert; alone you must bear and conquer in the agony; alone\nyou must be sifted by the world. There are moments known only to a\nman's own self, when he sits by the poisoned springs of existence,\n\"yearning for a morrow which shall free him from strife.\" And there\nare trials more terrible than that. Not when vicious inclinations\nare opposed to holy, but when virtue conflicts with virtue, is\nthe real rending of the soul in twain. A temptation, in which the\nlower nature struggles for mastery, can be met by the whole united\nforce of the spirit. But it is when obedience to a heavenly Father\ncan be only paid by disobedience to an earthly one; or fidelity to\nduty can be only kept by infidelity to some entangling engagement;\nor the straight path must be taken over the misery of others; or\nthe counsel of the affectionate friend must be met with a \"Get\nthee behind me, Satan\":--Oh! it is then, when human advice is\nunavailable, that the soul feels what it is to be alone.\n\nOnce more: the Redeemer's soul was alone in dying. The hour had\ncome--they were all gone, and He was, as He predicted, left alone.\nAll that is human drops from us in that hour. Human faces flit and\nfade, and the sounds of the world become confused. \"I shall die\nalone\"--yes, and alone you live. The philosopher tells us that no\natom in creation touches another atom; they all approach within\na certain distance; then the attraction ceases, and an invisible\nsomething repels--they only seem to touch. No soul touches another\nsoul except at one or two points, and those chiefly external--a\nfearful and lonely thought, but one of the truest of life. Death\nonly realizes that which has been fact all along. In the central\ndeeps of our being we are alone.\n\nII. The spirit or temper of that solitude.\n\nObserve its grandeur. I am alone, yet not alone. This is a feeble\nand sentimental way in which we speak of the Man of sorrows. We\nturn to the cross, and the agony, and the loneliness, to touch the\nsofter feelings, to arouse compassion. You degrade that loneliness\nby your compassion. Compassion! compassion for Him! Adore if you\nwill--respect and reverence that sublime solitariness with which\nnone but the Father was--but no pity; let it draw out the firmer and\nmanlier graces of the soul. Even tender sympathy seems out of place.\n\nFor even in human beings, the strength that is in a man can only be\nlearnt when he is thrown upon his own resources and left alone. What\na man can do in conjunction with others does not test the man. Tell\nus what he can do alone. It is one thing to defend the truth when\nyou know that your audience are already prepossest, and that every\nargument will meet a willing response; and it is another thing to\nhold the truth when truth must be supported, if at all, alone--met\nby cold looks and unsympathizing suspicion. It is one thing to rush\non to danger with the shouts and the sympathy of numbers; it is\nanother thing when the lonely chieftain of the sinking ship sees\nthe last boat-full disengage itself, and folds his arms to go down\ninto the majesty of darkness, crushed, but not subdued.\n\nSuch and greater far was the strength and majesty of the Savior's\nsolitariness. It was not the trial of the lonely hermit. There is a\ncertain gentle and pleasing melancholy in the life which is lived\nalone. But there are the forms of nature to speak to him; and he has\nnot the positive opposition of mankind, if he has the absence of\nactual sympathy. It is a solemn thing, doubtless, to be apart from\nmen, and to feel eternity rushing by like an arrowy river. But the\nsolitude of Christ was the solitude of a crowd. In that single human\nbosom dwelt the thought which was to be the germ of the world's\nlife, a thought unshared, misunderstood, or rejected. Can you not\nfeel the grandeur of those words, when the Man, reposing on His\nsolitary strength, felt the last shadow of perfect isolation pass\nacross His soul:--\"My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?\"\n\nNext, learn from these words self-reliance. \"Ye shall leave me\nalone.\" Alone, then, the Son of Man was content to be. He threw\nHimself on His own solitary thought: did not go down to meet the\nworld; but waited, tho it might be for ages, till the world should\ncome round to Him. He appealed to the future, did not aim at seeming\nconsistent, left His contradictions unexplained: I came from the\nFather: I leave the world, and go to the Father. \"Now,\" said they,\n\"Thou speakest no proverb\"; that is enigma. But many a hard and\nenigmatical saying before He had spoken, and He left them all. A\nthread runs through all true acts, stringing them together into one\nharmonious chain: but it is not for the Son of God to be anxious to\nprove their consistency with each other.\n\nThis is self-reliance, to repose calmly on the thought which is\ndeepest in our bosoms, and be unmoved if the world will not accept\nit yet. To live on your own convictions against the world, is to\novercome the world--to believe that what is truest in you is true\nfor all: to abide by that, and not be over-anxious to be heard or\nunderstood, or sympathized with, certain that at last all must\nacknowledge the same, and that, while you stand firm, the world will\ncome round to you, that is independence. It is not difficult to get\naway into retirement, and there live upon your own convictions; nor\nis it difficult to mix with men, and follow their convictions; but\nto enter into the world, and there live out firmly and fearlessly\naccording to your own conscience--that is Christian greatness.\n\nThere is a cowardice in this age which is not Christian. We shrink\nfrom the consequences of truth. We look round and cling dependently.\nWe ask what men will think; what others will say; whether they will\nstare in astonishment. Perhaps they will; but he who is calculating\nthat will accomplish nothing in this life. The Father--the Father\nwhich is with us and in us--what does He think? God's work can not\nbe done without a spirit of independence. A man has got some way\nin the Christian life when he has learned to say humbly, and yet\nmajestically, \"I dare to be alone.\"\n\nLastly, remark the humility of this loneliness. Had the Son of Man\nsimply said, I can be alone, He would have said no more than any\nproud, self-relying man can say; but when He added, \"because the\nFather is with me,\" that independence assumed another character,\nand self-reliance became only another form of reliance upon God.\nDistinguish between genuine and spurious humility. There is a false\nhumility which says, \"It is my own poor thought, and I must not\ntrust it. I must distrust my own reason and judgment, because they\nare my own. I must not accept the dictates of my own conscience; for\nis it not my own, and is not trust in self the great fault of our\nfallen nature?\"\n\nVery well. Now, remember something else. There is a Spirit which\nbeareth witness in our spirits; there is a God who \"is not far from\nany one of us\"; there is a \"Light which lighteth every man which\ncometh into the world.\" Do not be unnaturally humble. The thought of\nyour own mind perchance is the thought of God. To refuse to follow\nthat may be to disown God. To take the judgment and conscience of\nother men to live by, where is the humility of that? From whence did\ntheir conscience and judgment come? Was the fountain from which they\ndrew exhausted for you? If they refused like you to rely on their\nown conscience, and you rely upon it, how are you sure that it is\nmore the mind of God than your own which you have refused to hear?\n\nLook at it in another way. The charm of the words of great\nmen--those grand sayings which are recognized as true as soon as\nheard--is this, that you recognize them as wisdom which passed\nacross your own mind. You feel that they are your own thoughts\ncome back to you, else you would not at once admit them: \"All that\nfloated across me before, only I could not say it, and did not feel\nconfident enough to assert it, or had not conviction enough to put\ninto words.\" Yes, God spoke to you what He did to them: only they\nbelieved it, said it, trusted the Word within them, and you did not.\nBe sure that often when you say, \"It is only my own poor thought,\nand I am alone,\" the real correcting thought is this, \"Alone,\nbut the Father is with me,\"--therefore I can live by that lonely\nconviction.\n\nThere is no danger in this, whatever timid minds may think--no\ndanger of mistake, if the character be a true one. For we are not\nin uncertainty in this matter. It has been given us to know our\nbase from our noble hours: to distinguish between the voice which\nis from above, and that which speaks from below, out of the abyss\nof our animal and selfish nature. Samuel could distinguish between\nthe impulse--quite a human one--which would have made him select\nEliab out of Jesse's sons, and the deeper judgment by which \"the\nLord said, Look not on his countenance, nor on the height of his\nstature, for I have refused him.\" Doubtless deep truth of character\nis required for this: for the whispering voices get mixed together,\nand we dare not abide by our own thoughts, because we think them our\nown, and not God's: and this because we only now and then endeavor\nto know in earnest. It is only given to the habitually true to know\nthe difference. He knew it, because all His blessed life long He\ncould say, \"My judgment is just, because I seek not my own will, but\nthe will of him who sent me.\"\n\nThe practical result and inference of all this is a very simple,\nbut a very deep one: the deepest of existence. Let life be a life\nof faith. Do not go timorously about, inquiring what others think,\nand what others believe, and what others say. It seems the easiest,\nit is the most difficult thing in life to do this. Believe in God.\nGod is near you. Throw yourself fearlessly upon Him. Trembling\nmortal, there is an unknown light within your soul, which will wake\nwhen you command it. The day may come when all that is human, man\nand woman, will fall off from you; as they did from Him. Let His\nstrength be yours. Be independent of them all now. The Father is\nwith you. Look to Him, and He will save you.\n\n\n\n\nHITCHCOCK\n\nETERNAL ATONEMENT\n\n\n\n\nBIOGRAPHICAL NOTE\n\n\nROSWELL DWIGHT HITCHCOCK was born at East Machias, Maine, in 1817.\nTo his pulpit delivery, which was direct, fluent and impressive,\nhe brought the results of profound Bible research. He was an\nevangelical transcendentalist, and for many years addressed large\nand cultured congregations in New York City. As a teacher he was\nclear and inspiring, particularly in historical theology. In 1880 he\nwas made president of the Union Theological Seminary. His best-known\nwork is the \"Complete Analysis of the Bible.\" He died in 1887.\n\n\n\n\nHITCHCOCK\n\n1817-1887\n\nETERNAL ATONEMENT[2]\n\n  [2] From Dr. Hitchcock's book of the same title by permission of the\n  publishers. Messrs. Charles Scribner's Sons.\n\n     _And all that dwell upon the earth shall worship him, whose\n     names are not written in the book of life of the Lamb slain from\n     the foundation of the world_.--Revelation xiii., 8.\n\n\nMy subject is the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world.\nMy text is Revelation xiii., 8, the precise import of which is\ndisputed; and I will therefore give you the rival renderings. As we\nhave been used to it in the Authorized Version, it reads: \"Written\nin the book of life of the Lamb slain from the foundation of the\nworld.\" The Anglican revisers, following the lead of Alford, make no\nessential change: \"Written in the book of life of the Lamb that hath\nbeen slain from the foundation of the world.\" The American revisers,\nfollowing the lead of Bengel, De Wette, and many others, would have\nit: \"Written from the foundation of the world in the book of life of\nthe Lamb that hath been slain.\" The American rendering makes the\nelection eternal. The Anglican rendering makes the atonement eternal.\n\nThe prevalent opinion no doubt has been that the atonement is simply\nan historic fact, dating back now some nineteen hundred years; and\nthat only the purpose of it is eternal. But Johann Wessel, the great\nGerman theologian, who died only six years after Martin Luther was\nborn, got hold of the idea that not election only, but atonement\nalso, is an eternal act. And this, it seems to me, is both rational\nand scriptural. Eternal election, profoundly considered, requires\neternal atonement for its support. Both are eternal, as all divine\nrealities are eternal. If the passage in Revelation were given up,\nwe should still have to deal with 1 Peter i., 19, 20, where the\nLamb is spoken of as foreknown before the foundation of the world,\nbut manifested at the end of the times; eternal reality becoming\ntemporal fact. We should still have to deal with John xvii., 24,\nwhich also carries back into eternity the redeeming relationship\nbetween the Father and the Son. Even on Calvary, as temporal\nactuality, the Lamb slain is only a figure of speech, and, of\ncourse, it can be no more than a figure of speech as eternal reality\nin the bosom of God. But whether in time, or in eternity--whether\non Calvary or in the bosom of God, the figure must stand for\nsomething. For us the meaning is, and must be, that not election\nonly, but atonement also, is eternal. And so the relationship of\nGod to moral evil stands forth as an eternal relationship. Not that\nevil is itself eternal; but God always knew it and always felt it.\nIt may help our thinking in this direction to remember that there\nis a sense in which creation itself is eternal; not independently\neternal, but, of God's will, dependently eternal.\n\nThere must nothing be said, or thought, in mitigation of the ethical\nverdict against moral evil. The hatefulness of it, no matter what\nits chronology may be, is simply unspeakable. Violated law is\nmonstrous. Unmindfulness of God, who has always been so mindful\nof us, is mean. Never to pray, either in one's closet or in one's\nfamily, is against all the proprieties. Idolatry is childish and\ncontemptible. Profaneness of speech is scandalous. Neglect of\nholy time is robbery. Disobedience to parents is shameful. Murder\nis hideous. Unchastity murders the soul, is indeed both murder\nand suicide. And so of all the rest. Theft, falsehood, and even\ninordinate desire are abominable. Imagine a community, larger or\nsmaller--a family, a township, a state, or a nation--where the\nTen Commandments are persistently trampled under foot, and you\nwill have imagined a community intolerable even to itself. And\nif this be our human judgment, what must the divine judgment be?\nThe more pure and righteous a moral being is, the more squarely\nhe must antagonize, more intensely he must hate, the more surely\nhe must punish impurity and unrighteousness. Volcanic fire inside\nthe globe, forked lightning outside of it, are faint emblems of\nholy wrath. Wrong doing is the one thing nowhere, and never, to be\neither condoned or endured. Physical accident, bodily sickness,\nfinancial disaster, social bereavement, may all be pitied. But when\na thoroughly bad man stands revealed, only lightning is logical.\nHe that sows the wind ought to reap the whirlwind. It was a great\nphilosopher who stood amazed at the starry sky, and at the moral\nsense in man. Well he might. There is no softness in the midnight\nsky; only cold blue marble, and a steady blaze that never relents,\nand is never tired. You can not endure that blaze, you dare not risk\nyourself out alone among those gleaming orbs with a guilty secret in\nyour bosom. The universe is instinct with law that never abdicates.\nRemorse is not repentance; and even repentance washes out no stain.\nSelf-forgiveness is impossible. The trumpet is always sounding;\nevery day is a judgment-day; and every one of us goes to the left.\nGehenna is the only logical goal of sin.\n\nNor should any attempt be made to get at the genesis of moral evil.\nThe beginning of it is simply inconceivable. The whole thing is a\nmystery and must be let alone. Moral evil is not eternal; or there\nwould be two infinities. Nor is it a creature of God; or God would\nbe divided against Himself. And yet it had the divine permission,\nwhatever that may be imagined to have been. With every attribute\nroused and alert--infinity of power, infinity of wisdom, infinity\nof holiness--God stood by and let evil enter. Angels revolted\nfirst, somewhere among the stars. Mankind revolted. Was evil\nreally unavoidable in a proper moral system? If so, immorality is\nnot immoral. Evil that is really essential to good should not be\nconsidered evil. It would be only the bitter bud of the fragrant\nblossom and the luscious fruit. Or, putting it in another form,\nwill you say that God could not have prevented evil? He certainly\ncould have prevented it. In Heaven to-day, what is the security\nof saints and angels, of your own dear sainted mother, of Gabriel\nhimself, but God's own grace constraining the will of every saint,\nconstraining the will of every seraph? What is human sin but the\nabuse of human appetites, of human passions, of human faculties, in\nthemselves all innocent? Study the lesson of our Lord's temptation\nin the desert. Certainly, He was not tempted as we are, by inflamed\nappetites and passions, by impaired and disordered faculties. But He\npossest all these natural appetites, passions, and faculties; and\nthey were put to a real and a tremendous strain. That \"great duel,\"\nas Milton calls it, was no sham fight; one or the other had to go\ndown. Christ was gnawed by hunger, but refused to eat. He saw what\nmight be done by a brilliant miracle towards inaugurating His Jewish\nministry, but refused to work it. He saw the short, Satanic path\nto Messianic dominion, but chose Gethsemane and Calvary. Now the\nfirst Adam was just as cool and just as innocent as the second Adam.\nAnd, with more of grace to strengthen him, he too might have stood.\nThere was no real necessity for that first human disobedience. It\nwas sheer, wanton, gratuitous, inexplicable apostasy. Somewhat more\nof divine constraint, and the catastrophe would certainly have\nbeen averted. Call it non-prevention, call it permission, call it\nanything you please, somehow sin entered in spite of God's hating\nit. It came knocking for admission, and God's shoulder was not\nagainst the gate. For some reason, or reasons, not revealed, perhaps\nnot revealable, God thought it best not to put His shoulder against\nthe gate. The hateful and hated thing pushed through. Ormuzd let\nin Ahriman. I thank the Persian for these two words. They embody\nand emphasize the historic dualism of good and evil. The historic\ndualism, you will observe I say; there is no other dualism. God is\nOne; and Master of all. The divine permission of hateful and hated\nevil, when we fairly apprehend it, is a tremendous statement, which\nmight well be challenged, were not the thing itself so undeniably\na fact. This is as far as we can go. Here we halt, with our bruised\nand throbbing foreheads hard up against the granite cliff.\n\nPractically, historic sin finds relief in historic redemption.\nApparently, there was little, if any, interval between the two.\nSin came, perhaps, with the noontide rest. \"In the cool of the\nday\"--that same day, most likely--the offended Lord came walking\nin the garden. The colloquy had a sharp beginning, but a mellow\nending. The bitten heel would finally crush the biting head. And\nthe struggle at once began. The Lord came down very close to His\nerring, guilty, frightened children. And they clung very closely to\nHim. We are in great danger of underrating that primitive economy of\ngrace. The record is very brief, and the Oriental genius of it seems\nstrange to us. But we see an altar there; and it can have but one\nmeaning. Ages after, in all the nobler ethnic religions--Egyptian,\nIndian, Persian, and Pelasgic--we encounter echoes and survivals\nof that first vouchsafement of revelation. In all the great\nreligions, we find one God; in all of them, personal immortality,\nwith retribution; in most of them, divine triads; in two of them\nat least, the resurrection of the body. If it be true, as we may\nwell believe, that Socrates is now in Heaven, singing the new song,\nit is because he sacrificed; and he sacrificed, whether he fully\nunderstood it or not, because of that colloquy in the garden. And if\nthat sufficed for him, the Providence of God is justified. Historic\nsin is fairly matched, and overmatched, by historic redemption.\n\nBut the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world, suggests a far\nsublimer theodicy. We are taken back behind the human ages, behind\nall time, into awful infinite depths, into the very bosom of the\ntriune God. Theological science recognizes two trinities, which\nit calls economic and essential. The former began with historic\nredemption, and kept pace with it. Father, Son, and Spirit stood\nfor law, redemption, and regeneration. It was economic trinity\nthat suggested essential trinity. But for the historic process,\nthe question might not have seemed worth asking, whether God is\none only, or three also, and the three in one. The Hebrew mind, as\nrepresented by Philo, was only just beginning to be trinitarian,\nwhen Christ's life in the flesh compelled the Hebrew mind, as\nrepresented by Peter, Paul, and John, to a new theology. After\nPentecost, bald Unitarianism was anachronous. Christian experience\nlogically required three divine persons, of one and the same divine\nessence. Economic trinity required essential trinity.\n\nEssential trinity is anything but an arbitrary conception of\nGod. Wyclif taught it at Oxford as a necessary doctrine of\nreason. Trinity is another name for the self-consciousness, and\nself-communion, of God. Father, Son, and Spirit are vastly more\nthan the revelation of God to man; they are the revelation of God\nto Himself, and the intercourse of God with Himself. They suggest\ninfinite fulness and richness of being. Our scientific definitions\nof God do not amount to much. At best, they formulate only very\ninadequate conceptions of Him. It is assumed that these scientific\ndefinitions of God take us farther than the Biblical descriptions of\nGod. We had better not feel too sure of that. Attributes in action\nmay impart a better knowledge than attributes abstractedly defined.\nPictures for children may be better than creeds and catechisms.\nWhat we need is to see God in the life both of nature, and of man.\nThis the Hebrew prophets enable us to do by their anthropomorphic\nand anthropopathic pictures of God. If you say the pictures are\nchildish, then I must say that we are children, all of us, and had\nbetter be children. It is no real scandal to science to be told,\nthat \"the eyes of the Lord are in every place, beholding the evil\nand the good\"; that \"the eyes of the Lord are upon the righteous,\nand his ears are open unto their cry\"; that the Lord \"smelled a\nsweet savor\" from Noah's altar; while wicked men are consumed by\n\"the breath of his nostrils\"; that \"the voice of the Lord breaketh\nthe cedars of Lebanon\"; and He \"walketh upon the wings of the\nwind\"; and that at last, in the Messianic time, \"the Lord will make\nbare his holy arm in the eyes of all the nations.\" God is not a\nmere aggregate of attributes. He has a personality as distinct and\npositive as yours and mine. But the personality is infinite in all\nits outgoings. God's being is a vast abyss which no plummet has\never sounded. Imagine all you can of boundless power, constantly at\nwork; of boundless intelligence, constantly at work; of boundless\npassion, constantly at work: God is all that, and immeasurably more\nthan that. What right has any one to say that God is passionless?\nGod Himself has never said it. He is not passionless. Like the sun,\nHe is all aflame; He rejoices in the truth; He hates a lie. He is\npleased with what is right, and displeased with what is wrong. Good\nmen are the apple of His eye; bad men His abomination and His scorn.\nRendered literally, \"God is a righteous Judge, and a God who is\nangry every day.\"\n\nBut God is love. So says John in that famous passage, over which the\ntheologians are still disputing, whether the meaning be that love\nis only one of the divine attributes, or is that very essence of\nGod, into which every other attribute may be resolved. Some of the\nprofoundest thinkers of our day accept these three words of John,\n\"God is love,\" as the final definition of God. Sunshine striking a\nteardrop may give us the seven colors of the rainbow; but the seven\ncolors are all one blessed light. God creates, governs, judges,\npunishes, pities, redeems, and saves; but love is the root of all.\nIt was love that created this wonderous universe, to which science\ncan set no bounds. It was love that created angels, tho some of them\nrebelled, and were \"delivered into chains of darkness.\" It was love\nthat created this human brotherhood, all of whom have rebelled and\ngone astray. This rebellion was permitted; but was rebellion all the\nsame. God feels it; and has always felt it. Absalom has broken his\nfather's heart; and we are Absalom. The grand old King goes up over\nOlivet weeping, with his head covered, and his feet bare; and that\nKing is God. Only He is the King Eternal, and His agony over sin is\nalso eternal. This agony of God over human sin is the Lamb slain\nfrom the foundation of the world. God Himself atones, to Himself\natones; and so atonement is both eternal and divine.\n\nIn that matchless epitome of the gospel--that parable of the\nProdigal Son, reported only by Luke--not a word is said, not a\nglimpse is given, of the father of the prodigal during all that\ninterval between the departure and return. A veil is drawn over all\nthose bitter, weary years. So has God yearned and suffered in the\nsilent depths of His own eternity, waiting and watching for the\nrepentant prodigal. This yearning, grieved, and suffering God is\nthe God and Father of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ; Son of God,\nSon of Mary. This sinless Child should have had no griefs of His\nown. His sorrows could have been only those old eternal shadows of\npermitted sin. The cross on which He died, flinging out its arms as\nif to embrace the world, lifted up its head toward the Lamb slain\nfrom the foundation of the world. Our hearts now go back to Calvary;\nand from Calvary they go up to God.\n\nOne word more. This stupendous idea of eternal atonement carries\nwith it the idea of universal atonement. Whatever it was, and is,\nmust needs have been infinite. No magnitude of sin, no multitude\nof sinners, can bankrupt its treasury of grace. \"God so loved the\nworld,\" is its everlasting refrain. \"He that will, let him take of\nthe water of life freely.\" \"Take\" is the word, my hearers. Let us\nremember this. There is something for us to do. God Himself can not\npardon an impenitent offender. If pardon were offered, it could not\nbe accepted. It is a law of our own being, that we must repent. O\nLamb of God, slain so long ago, save us at last, when Thou comest in\nthe clouds; and save us here to-day.\n\nIt is one of the revelations of Scripture that we are to judge the\nangels, sitting above them on the shining heights. It may well be\nso. Those angels are the imperial guard, doing easy duty at home.\nWe are the \"tenth legion,\" marching in from the swamps and forests\nof the far-off frontier; scarred and battered, but victorious over\ndeath and sin.[3]\n\n  [3] The following stanza from Dean Alford's grand hymn appears upon\n  the last page of this, the last sermon written by Dr. Hitchcock.\n  By a singular coincidence it was the stanza especially selected to\n  be sung in the burial service at Dr. Hitchcock's funeral, altho in\n  entire ignorance of its existence in the manuscript.\n\n    Ten thousand times ten thousand\n      In sparkling raiment bright,\n    The armies of the ransom'd saints\n      Throng up the steps of light;\n    'Tis finish'd, all is finish'd,\n      Their fight with death and sin:\n    Fling open wide the golden gates,\n      And let the victors in.\n\n\n\n\nKINGSLEY\n\nTHE SHAKING OF THE HEAVENS AND THE EARTH\n\n\n\n\nBIOGRAPHICAL NOTE\n\n\nCHARLES KINGSLEY was born at Holne Vicarage, Devonshire, in 1819.\nHe was by temperament enthusiastic, impetuous, and great-hearted.\nHis utterances were notable for their unusual earnestness. \"I go at\nwhat I am about,\" he said, \"as if there were nothing else in the\nworld for the time being.\" In this way he completely lost himself\nin the work in hand. His favorite motto was \"Be strong!\" He had a\npoetic spirit, and was both vigorous and brilliant. He is known not\nonly for his sermons and addresses, but also for his novels and some\nverse. He died in 1875.\n\n\n\n\nKINGSLEY\n\n1819-1875\n\nTHE SHAKING OF THE HEAVENS AND THE EARTH\n\n     _Yet once more I shake not the earth only, but also heaven.\n     And this word, Yet once more, signifieth the removing of those\n     things that are shaken, as of things that are made, that\n     those things which can not be shaken may remain. Wherefore we\n     receiving a kingdom which can not be moved, let us have grace,\n     whereby we may serve God acceptably with reverence and godly\n     fear: for our God is a consuming fire._--Hebrews xii., 26-29.\n\n\nThis is one of the royal texts of Scripture. It is inexhaustible,\nlike the God who inspired it. It has fulfilled itself again and\nagain, at different epochs. It fulfilled itself specially and\nnotoriously in the first century. But it fulfilled itself again\nin the fifth century; and again at the Crusades; and again at the\nReformation in the sixteenth century. And it may be that it is\nfulfilling itself at this very day; that in this century, both in\nthe time of our fathers and in our own, the Lord has been shaking\nthe heavens and the earth, that those things which can be shaken may\nbe removed, as things that are made, while those things which can\nnot be shaken remain.\n\nAll confess this to be true, each in his own words. They talk of\nthis age as one of change; of rapid progress, for good or evil;\nof unexpected discoveries; of revolutions, intellectual, moral,\nsocial, as well as political. Our notions of the physical universe\nare rapidly altering, with the new discoveries of science; and our\nnotions of ethics and theology are altering as rapidly. The era\nassumes a different aspect to different minds, just as it did the\nfirst century after Christ, according as men look forward to the\nfuture with hope, or back to the past with regret. Some glory in\nthe nineteenth century as one of rapid progress for good; as the\ncommencement of a new era for humanity; as the inauguration of a\nReformation as grand as that of the sixteenth century. Others bewail\nit as an age of rapid decay; in which the old landmarks are being\nremoved, the old paths lost; in which we are rushing headlong into\nskepticism and atheism; in which the world and the Church are both\nin danger, and the last day is at hand.\n\nBoth parties may be right; and yet both may be wrong. Men have\nalways talked thus, at great crises in the world's life. They talked\nthus in the first century; and in the fifth, and in the eleventh;\nand again in the sixteenth; and then both parties were partially\nright and partially wrong; and so they may be now. What they meant\nto say, what they wanted to say, what we mean and want to say, has\nbeen said already for us in far deeper, wider, and more accurate\nwords, by him who wrote this wonderful Epistle to the Hebrews, when\nhe told the Jews of his time that the Lord was shaking the heavens\nand the earth, that those things which were shaken might be removed,\nas things that are made--cosmogonies, systems, theories, prejudices,\nfashions, of man's invention: while those things which could not be\nshaken might remain, because they were according to the mind and\nwill of God, eternal as that source from whence they came forth,\neven the bosom of God the Father.\n\n\"Yet once more I shake, not the earth only, but also heaven.\"\n\nHow has the earth been shaken in our days; and the heaven likewise.\nHow rapidly have our conceptions of both altered. How easy, simple,\ncertain, it all looked to our forefathers in the middle age. How\ndifficult, complex, uncertain, it all looks to us. With increased\nknowledge has come--not increased doubt: that I deny utterly. I\ndeny, once and for all, that this age is an irreverent age. I say\nthat an irreverent age is one like the age of the Schoolmen; when\nmen defined and explained all heaven and earth by \u00e0 priori theories,\nand cosmogonies invented in the cloister; and dared, poor, simple,\nignorant mortals, to fancy that they could comprehend and gauge\nthe ways of Him whom the heaven and the heaven of heavens could not\ncontain. This, this is irreverence: but it is neither irreverence\nnor want of faith, if a man, awed by the mystery which encompasses\nhim from the cradle to the grave, shall lay his hand upon his mouth,\nwith Job, and obey the Voice which cries to him from earth and\nheaven--\"Be still, and know that as the heavens are higher than the\nearth, so are my ways higher than thy ways, and my thoughts higher\nthan thine.\"\n\nBut it was all easy, and simple, and certain enough to our\nforefathers. The earth, according to the popular notion, was a flat\nplane; or, if it were, as the wiser held, a sphere, yet antipodes\nwere an unscriptural heresy. Above it were the heavens, in which the\nstars were fixed, or wandered; and above them heaven after heaven,\neach tenanted by its own orders of beings, up to that heaven of\nheavens in which Deity--and by Him, be it always remembered, the\nmother of Deity--was enthroned.\n\nAnd if above the earth was the kingdom of light, and purity, and\nholiness, what could be more plain, than that below it was the\nkingdom of darkness, and impurity, and sin? That was no theory to\nour forefathers: it was a physical fact. Had not even the heathens\nbelieved as much, and said so, by the mouth of the poet Virgil? He\nhad declared that the mouth of Tartarus lay in Italy, hard by the\nvolcanic lake Avernus; and after the unexpected eruption of Vesuvius\nin the first century, nothing seemed more clear than that Virgil was\nright; and that men were justified in talking of Tartarus, Styx,\nand Phlegethon as indisputable Christian entities. Etna, Stromboli,\nHecla, were (according to this cosmogony) likewise mouths of hell;\nand there were not wanting holy hermits, who had heard from within\nthose craters, shrieks, and clanking chains, and the howls of demons\ntormenting the souls of the endlessly lost.\n\nOur forefathers were not aware that, centuries before the\nincarnation of our Lord, the Buddhist priests had held exactly the\nsame theory of moral retribution; and that painted on the walls of\nBuddhist temples might be seen horrors identical with those which\nadorned the walls of many a Christian church, in the days when men\nbelieved in this Tartarology as firmly as they now believe in the\nresults of chemistry or of astronomy.\n\nAnd now--How is the earth shaken, and the heavens likewise, in that\nvery sense in which the expression is used by him who wrote to\nthe Hebrews? Our conceptions of them are shaken. How much of that\nmedieval cosmogony do educated men believe, in the sense in which\nthey believe that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two\nright angles, or that if they steal their neighbor's goods they\ncommit a sin?\n\nThe earth has been shaken for us, more and more violently, as the\nyears have rolled on. It was shaken when astronomy told us that\nthe earth was not the center of the universe, but a tiny planet\nrevolving round a sun in a remote region thereof.\n\nIt was shaken, when geology told us that the earth had endured\nfor countless ages, during which continents had become oceans,\nand oceans continents, again and again. And even now, it is being\nshaken by researches into the antiquity of man, into the origin and\npermanence of species, which, let the result be what it will, must\nin the meanwhile shake for us theories and dogmas which have been\nundisputed for 1500 years.\n\nAnd with the rest of our cosmogony, that conception of a physical\nTartarus below the earth has been shaken likewise, till good men\nhave been fain to find a fresh place for it in the sun, or in a\ncomet; or to patronize the probable, but as yet unproved theory of\na central fire within the earth; not on any scientific grounds, but\nsimply if by any means they can assign a region in space, wherein\nmaterial torment can be inflicted on the spirits of the lost.\n\nAnd meanwhile the heavens, the spiritual world, is being shaken\nno less. More and more frequently, more and more loudly, men are\nasking, not skeptics merely, but pious men, men who wish to be,\nand who believe themselves to be, orthodox Christians, more and\nmore loudly are such men asking questions which demand an answer,\nwith a learning and an eloquence, as well as with a devoutness\nand a reverence for Scripture, which--whether rightly or wrongly\nemployed--is certain to command attention.\n\nRightly or wrongly, these men are asking, whether the actual and\nliteral words of Scripture really involve the medieval theory of an\nendless Tartarus.\n\nThey are saying, \"It is not we who deny, but you who assert,\nendless torments, who are playing fast and loose with the letter of\nScripture. You are reading into it conceptions borrowed from Virgil,\nDante, Milton, when you translate into the formula 'endless torment'\nsuch phrases as 'the outer darkness,' 'the fire of Gehenna,'\nthe 'worm that dieth not'; which, according to all just laws of\ninterpretation, refer not to the next life, but to this life, and\nspecially to the approaching catastrophe of the Jewish nation; or\nwhen you say that eternal death really means eternal life--only life\nin torture.\"\n\nRightly or wrongly, they are saying this; and then they add, \"We do\nnot yield to you in love and esteem for Scripture. We demand not a\nlooser, but a stricter; not a more metaphoric, but a more literal;\nnot a more contemptuous, but a more reverent interpretation thereof.\"\n\nSo these men speak, rightly or wrongly. And for good or for evil,\nthey will be heard.\n\nAnd with these questions others have arisen, not new at all,\nsay these men, but to be found amid many contradictions, in the\nwritings of all the best divines, when they have given up for a\nmoment systems and theories, and listened to the voice of their own\nhearts; questions natural enough to an age which abhors cruelty,\nhas abolished torture, labors for the reformation of criminals, and\ndebates, rightly or wrongly, about abolishing capital punishment.\nMen are asking questions about the heaven, the spiritual world, and\nsaying, \"The spiritual world? Is it only another material world\nwhich happens to be invisible now, but which may become visible\nhereafter: or is it not rather the moral world--the world of right\nand wrong? Heaven? Is not the true and real heaven the kingdom of\nlove, justice, purity, beneficence? Is not that the eternal heaven\nwherein God abides for ever, and with Him those who are like God?\nAnd hell? Is it not rather the anarchy of hate, injustice, impurity,\nuselessness; wherein abides all that is opposed to God?\"\n\nAnd with these thoughts come others about moral retribution--\"What\nis its purpose? Can it, can any punishment have any right purpose\nsave the correction, or the annihilation, of the criminal? Can God,\nin this respect, be at once less merciful and less powerful than\nmen? Is He so controlled by necessity that He is forced to bring\ninto the world beings whom he knows to be incorrigible, and doomed\nto endless misery? And if not so controlled, is not the alternative\nas to His character even more fearful? He bids us copy His justice,\nHis love. Is that His justice, that His love, which if we copied, we\nshould call each other, and deservedly, utterly unjust and unloving?\nCan there be one morality for God, and another for man, made in the\nimage of God? Are these dark dogmas worthy of a Father who hateth\nnothing that He hath made, and is perfect in this, that He makes\nHis sun shine on the evil and on the good, and His rain fall on\nthe just and on the unjust, and is good to the unthankful and to\nthe evil? Are they worthy of a Son who, in the fire of His divine\ncharity, stooped from heaven to earth, to toil, to suffer, to die on\nthe cross, that the world by Him might be saved? Are they worthy of\nthat which proceeds from the Father and the Son, even that Spirit\nof boundless charity, and fervent love, by which the Son offered\nHimself to the Father, a sacrifice for the sins of the world--and\nsurely not in vain?\"\n\nSo men are asking, rightly or wrongly; and they are guarding\nthemselves, at the same time, from the imputation of disbelief\nin moral retribution; of fancying God to be a careless, epicurean\ndeity, cruelly indulgent to sin, and therefore, in so far, immoral.\n\nThey say--\"We believe firmly enough in moral retribution. How can\nwe help believing in it, while we see it working around us, in many\na fearful shape, here, now, in this life? And we believe that it\nmay work on, in still more fearful shapes, in the life to come.\nWe believe that as long as a sinner is impenitent, he must be\nmiserable; that if he goes on impenitent for ever, he must go on\nmaking himself miserable, aye, it may be more and more miserable for\never. Only do not tell us that he must go on. That his impenitence,\nand therefore his punishment, is irremediable, necessary, endless;\nand thereby destroy the whole purpose, and we should say, the whole\nmorality, of his punishment. If that punishment be corrective, our\nmoral sense is not shocked by any severity, by any duration: but if\nit is irremediable, it can not be corrective; and then, what it is,\nor why it is, we can not--or rather dare not--say. We, too, believe\nin an eternal fire. But because we believe also the Athanasian\nCreed, which tells us that there is but one eternal, we believe\nthat that fire must be the fire of God, and therefore, like all\nthat is in God and of God, good and not evil, a blessing and not a\ncurse. We believe that that fire is for ever burning, tho men are\nfor ever trying to quench it all day long; and that it has been and\nwill be in every age burning up all the chaff and stubble of man's\ninventions; the folly, the falsehood, the ignorance, the vice of\nthis sinful world; and we praise God for it; and give thanks to\nHim for His great glory, that He is the everlasting and triumphant\nfoe of evil and misery, of whom it is written, that our God is a\nconsuming fire.\"\n\nSuch words are being spoken, right or wrong. Such words will bear\ntheir fruit, for good or evil. I do not pronounce how much of them\nis true or false. It is not my place to dogmatize and define, where\nthe Church of England, as by law established, has declined to do\nso. Neither is it for you to settle these questions. It is rather a\nmatter for your children. A generation more, it may be, of earnest\nthought will be required, ere the true answer has been found. But\nit is your duty, if you be educated and thoughtful persons, to face\nthese questions; to consider whether you are believing the exact\nwords of the Bible, and the conclusions of your own reason and moral\nsense; or whether you are merely believing that cosmogony elaborated\nin the cloister, that theory of moral retribution pardonable in the\nmiddle age, which Dante and Milton sang.\n\nBut this I do not hesitate to say, That if we of the clergy can find\nno other answers to these doubts than those which were reasonable\nand popular in an age when men racked women, burned heretics, and\nbelieved that every Mussulman killed in a crusade went straight\nto Tartarus, then very serious times are at hand, both for the\nChristian clergy and for Christianity itself.\n\nWhat, then, are we to believe and do? Shall we degenerate into a\nlazy skepticism, which believes that everything is a little true,\nand everything a little false--in plain words, believes nothing\nat all? Or shall we degenerate into faithless fears, and unmanly\nwailings that the flood of infidelity is irresistible, and that\nChrist has left His Church?\n\nWe shall do neither, if we believe the text. That tells us of a\nfirm standing ground amid the wreck of fashions and opinions; of a\nkingdom which can not be moved, tho the heavens pass away like a\nscroll, and the earth be burnt up with a fervent heat.\n\nAnd it tells us that the King of that kingdom is He, who is called\nJesus Christ--the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever.\n\nAn eternal and changeless kingdom, and an eternal and changeless\nKing--these the Epistle to the Hebrews preaches to all generations.\n\nIt does not say that we have an unchangeable cosmogony, an\nunchangeable eschatology, an unchangeable theory of moral\nretribution, an unchangeable dogmatic system; not to these does it\npoint the Jews, while their own nation and worship were in their\nvery death-agony, and the world was rocking and reeling round them,\ndecay and birth going on side by side, in a chaos such as man had\nnever seen before. Not to these does the epistle point the Hebrews:\nbut to the changeless kingdom and to the changeless King.\n\nMy friends, do you really believe in that kingdom, and in that King?\nDo you believe that you are now actually in a kingdom of heaven,\nwhich can not be moved; and that the living, acting, guiding,\npractical, real King thereof is Christ who died on the cross?\n\nThese are days in which a preacher is bound to ask his\ncongregation--and still more to ask himself--whether he really\nbelieves in that kingdom, and in that King; and to bid himself and\nthem, if they have not believed earnestly enough therein, to repent\nof having neglected that most cardinal doctrine of Scripture and of\nthe Christian faith.\n\nBut if we really believe in that changeless kingdom and in that\nchangeless King, shall we not--considering who Christ is, the\ncoequal and coeternal Son of God--believe also, that if the heavens\nand the earth are being shaken, then Christ Himself may be shaking\nthem? That if opinions be changing, then Christ Himself may be\nchanging them? That if new truths are being discovered, Christ\nHimself may be revealing them? That if some of those truths seem\nto contradict those which He has revealed already, they do not\nreally contradict them? That, as in the sixteenth century, Christ\nis burning up the wood and stubble with which men have built on\nHis foundation, that the pure gold of His truth may alone be left?\nIt is at least possible; it is probable, if we believe that Christ\nis a living, acting King, to whom all power is given in heaven and\nearth, and who is actually exercising that power; and educating\nChristendom, and through Christendom the whole human race, to a\nknowledge of Himself, and through Himself of God their Father in\nheaven.\n\nShould we not say--We know that Christ has been so doing, for\ncenturies and for ages? Through Abraham, through Moses, through\nthe prophets, through the Greeks, through the Romans, and at last\nthrough Himself, He gave men juster and wider views of themselves,\nof the universe, and of God. And even then He did not stop. How\ncould He, who said of Himself, \"My Father worketh hitherto, and I\nwork\"? How could He, if He be the same yesterday, to-day, and for\never? Through the apostles, and especially through St. Paul, He\nenlarged, while He confirmed, His own teaching. And did He not do\nthe same in the sixteenth century? Did He not then sweep from the\nminds and hearts of half Christendom beliefs which had been sacred\nand indubitable for a thousand years? Why should He not be doing\nso now? If it be answered, that the Reformation of the sixteenth\ncentury was only a return to simpler and purer apostolic truth--why,\nagain, should it not be so now? Why should He not be perfecting His\nwork one step more, and sweeping away more of man's inventions,\nwhich are not integral and necessary elements of the one catholic\nfaith, but have been left behind, in pardonable human weakness,\nby our great reformers? Great they were, and good: giants on the\nearth, while we are but as dwarfs beside them. But, as the hackneyed\nproverb says, the dwarf on the giant's shoulders may see further\nthan the giant himself: and so may we.\n\nOh! that men would approach new truth in something of that spirit;\nin the spirit of reverence and godly fear, which springs from a\nliving belief in Christ the living King, which is--as the text\ntells us--the spirit in which we can serve God acceptably. Oh!\nthat they would serve God; waiting reverently and anxiously, as\nservants standing in the presence of their Lord, for the slightest\nsign or hint of His will. Then they would have grace by which they\nwould receive new-thought with grace; gracefully, courteously,\nfairly, charitably, reverently; believing that, however strange or\nstartling, it may come from Him whose ways are not as our ways, nor\nHis thoughts as our thoughts; and that he who fights against it, may\nhaply be fighting against God.\n\nTrue, they would receive all new thought with caution, that\nconservative spirit, which is the duty of every Christian; which\nis the peculiar strength of the Englishman, because it enables him\ncalmly and slowly to take in the new, without losing the old which\nhis forefathers have already won for him. So they would be cautious,\neven anxious, lest in grasping too greedily at seeming improvements,\nthey let go some precious knowledge which they had already attained:\nbut they would be on the lookout for improvements; because they\nwould consider themselves, and their generation, as under a divine\neducation. They would prove all things fairly and boldly, and\nhold fast that which is good; all that which is beautiful, noble,\nimproving and elevating to human souls, minds, or bodies; all that\nincreases the amount of justice, mercy, knowledge, refinement; all\nthat lessens the amount of vice, cruelty, ignorance, barbarism.\nThat at least must come from Christ. That at least must be the\ninspiration of the Spirit of God: unless the Pharisees were right\nafter all when they said, that evil spirits could be cast out by the\nprince of the devils.\n\nBe these things as they may, one comfort it will give us, to believe\nfirmly and actively in the changeless kingdom, and in the changeless\nKing. It will give us calm, patience, faith and hope, tho the\nheavens and the earth be shaken around us. For then we shall see\nthat the kingdom, of which we are citizens, is a kingdom of light,\nand not of darkness; of truth, and not of falsehood; of freedom,\nand not of slavery; of bounty and mercy, and not of wrath and fear;\nthat we live and move and have our being not in a \"_Deus quidam\ndeceptor_\" who grudges his children wisdom, but in a Father of\nLight, from whom comes every good and perfect gift; who willeth that\nall men should be saved, and come to the knowledge of the truth. In\nHis kingdom we are; and in the King whom He has set over it we can\nhave the most perfect trust. For us that King stooped from heaven\nto earth; for us He was born, for us He toiled, for us He suffered,\nfor us He died, for us He rose, for us He sits for ever at God's\nright hand. And can we not trust Him? Let Him do what He will. Let\nHim lead us whither He will. Wheresoever He leads must be the way\nof truth and life. Whatsoever He does, must be in harmony with that\ninfinite love which He displayed for us upon the cross. Whatsoever\nHe does, must be in harmony with that eternal purpose by which He\nreveals to men God their Father. Therefore, tho the heaven and the\nearth be shaken around us, we will trust in Him. For we know that He\nis the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever; and that His will and\npromise is, to lead those who trust in Him into all truth.\n\n\n\n\nCAIRD\n\nRELIGION IN COMMON LIFE\n\n\n\n\nBIOGRAPHICAL NOTE\n\n\nJOHN CAIRD was born at Greenock, Scotland, in 1820. He attained\ngreat popularity as a preacher in Edinburgh. In 1862 he was called\nto Park Church, Glasgow, and in 1873 became Principal of Glasgow\nUniversity. The sermon given here was preached before the Queen in\n1855, and, printed by her command, attained an amazing circulation.\nDr. Caird's deep and earnest thought was clothed almost invariably\nin clear and beautiful language. He had many gifts as a pulpit\nspeaker. His voice was full and deep-toned, his manner gracious\nand sympathetic, and his gestures, tho infrequent, were always\nsignificant and graceful. He died in 1898.\n\n\n\n\nCAIRD\n\n1820-1898\n\nRELIGION IN COMMON LIFE[4]\n\n  [4] Printed by permission of Messrs. William Blackwood & Sons,\n  Publishers.\n\n     _Not slothful in business; fervent in spirit; serving the\n     Lord._--Romans xii., 11.\n\n\nWhen a man is learning to be a Christian, it matters not what\nhis particular work in life may be; the work he does is but\nthe copy-line set to him; the main thing to be considered is\nthat he learn to live well. The form is nothing, the execution\nis everything. It is true, indeed, that prayer, holy reading,\nmeditation, the solemnities and services of the Church, are\nnecessary to religion, and that these can be practised only apart\nfrom the work of secular life. But it is to be remembered that all\nsuch holy exercises do not terminate in themselves. They are but\nsteps in the ladder to heaven, good only as they help us to climb.\nThey are the irrigation and enriching of the spiritual soil--worse\nthan useless if the crop become not more abundant. They are, in\nshort, but means to an end--good, only in so far as they help us\nto be good and to do good--to glorify God and do good to man; and\nthat end can perhaps best be attained by him whose life is a busy\none, whose avocations bear him daily into contact with his fellows,\ninto the intercourse of society, into the heart of the world. No man\ncan be a thorough proficient in navigation who has never been at\nsea, tho he may learn the theory of it at home. No man can become\na soldier by studying books on military tactics in his closet: he\nmust in actual service acquire those habits of coolness, courage,\ndiscipline, address, rapid combination, without which the most\nlearned in the theory of strategy or engineering will be but a\nschoolboy soldier after all. And, in the same way, a man in solitude\nand study may become a most learned theologian, or may train himself\ninto the timid, effeminate piety of what is technically called \"the\nrighteous life.\" But never, in the highest and holiest sense, can he\nbecome a religious man, until he has acquired those habits of daily\nself-denial, of resistance to temptation, of kindness, gentleness,\nhumility, sympathy, active beneficence, which are to be acquired\nonly in daily contact with mankind. Tell us not, then, that the\nman of business, the bustling tradesman, the toil-worn laborer,\nhas little or no time to attend to religion. As well tell us that\nthe pilot, amid the winds and storms, has no leisure to attend to\nnavigation--or the general, on the field of battle, to the art\nof war! Where will he attend to it? Religion is not a perpetual\nmoping over good books--religion is not even prayer, praise, holy\nordinances; these are necessary to religion--no man can be religious\nwithout them. But religion, I repeat, is, mainly and chiefly, the\nglorifying God amid the duties and trials of the world,--the guiding\nour course amid the adverse winds and currents of temptation, by the\nstarlight of duty and the compass of divine truth,--the bearing us\nmanfully, wisely, courageously, for the honor of Christ, our great\nLeader, in the conflict of life. Away then with the notion that\nministers and devotees may be religious, but that a religious and\nholy life is impracticable in the rough and busy world! Nay rather,\nbelieve me, that is the proper scene, the peculiar and appropriate\nfield for religion,--the place in which to prove that piety is not\na dream of Sundays and solitary hours; that it can bear the light\nof day; that it can wear well amid the rough jostlings, the hard\nstruggles, the coarse contacts of common life,--the place, in one\nword, to prove how possible it is for a man to be at once \"not\nslothful in business,\" and \"fervent in spirit, serving the Lord.\"\n\nAnother consideration, which I shall adduce in support of the\nassertion that it is not impossible to blend religion with the\nbusiness of common life, is this: that religion consists, not so\nmuch in doing spiritual or sacred acts, as in doing secular acts\nfrom a sacred or religious motive.\n\nThere is a very common tendency in our minds to classify actions\naccording to their outward form, rather than according to the\nspirit or motive which pervades them. Literature is sometimes\narbitrarily divided into \"sacred\" and \"profane\" literature, history\ninto \"sacred\" and \"profane\" history,--in which classification the\nterm \"profane\" is applied, not to what is bad or unholy, but to\neverything that is not technically sacred or religious--to all\nliterature that does not treat of religious doctrines and duties,\nand to all history save church history. And we are very apt to apply\nthe same principle to actions. Thus in many pious minds there is a\ntendency to regard all the actions of common life as so much, by an\nunfortunate necessity, lost to religion. Prayer, the reading of the\nBible and devotional books, public worship--and buying, selling,\ndigging, sowing, bartering, money-making, are separated into two\ndistinct, and almost hostile, categories. The religious heart and\nsympathies are thrown entirely into the former, and the latter are\nbarely tolerated as a bondage incident to our fallen state, but\nalmost of necessity tending to turn aside the heart from God.\n\nBut what God has cleansed, why should we call common or unclean? The\ntendency in question, tho founded on right feeling, is surely a\nmistaken one. For it is to be remembered that moral qualities reside\nnot in actions, but in the agent who performs them, and that it is\nthe spirit or motive from which we do any work that constitutes it\nbase or noble, worldly or spiritual, secular or sacred. The actions\nof an automaton may be outwardly the same as those of a moral agent,\nbut who attributes to them goodness or badness? A musical instrument\nmay discourse sacred melodies better than the holiest lips can sing\nthem, but who thinks of commending it for its piety? It is the same\nwith actions as with places. Just as no spot or scene on earth is\nin itself more or less holy than another, but the presence of a\nholy heart may hallow--or a base one desecrate--any place where it\ndwells; so with actions. Many actions, materially great and noble,\nmay yet, because of the spirit that prompts and pervades them,\nbe really ignoble and mean; and, on the other hand, many actions\nexternally mean and lowly, may, because of the state of his heart\nwho does them, be truly exalted and honorable. It is possible to\nfill the highest station on earth, and go through the actions\npertaining to it in a spirit that degrades all its dignities, and\nrenders all its high and courtly doings essentially sordid and\nvulgar. And it is no mere sentimentality to say that there may dwell\nin a lowly mechanic's or household servant's breast a spirit that\ndignifies the coarsest toils and \"renders drudgery divine.\" Herod of\nold was a slave, tho he sat upon a throne; but who will say that the\nwork of that carpenter's shop at Nazareth was not noble and kingly\nwork indeed!\n\nA life spent amidst holy things may be intensely secular; a life,\nthe most of which is passed in the thick and throng of the world,\nmay be holy and divine. A minister, for instance, preaching,\npraying, ever speaking holy words and performing sacred acts, may be\nall the while doing actions no more holy than those of the printer\nwho prints Bibles, or of the bookseller who sells them; for, in both\ncases alike, the whole affair may be nothing more than a trade. Nay,\nthe comparison tells worse for the former, for the secular trade is\ninnocent and commendable, but the trade which traffics and tampers\nwith holy things is, beneath all its mock solemnity, \"earthly,\nsensual, devilish.\"\n\nSo, to adduce one other example, the public worship of God is holy\nwork: no man can be living a holy life who neglects it. But the\npublic worship of God may be--and with multitudes who frequent our\nchurches is--degraded into work most worldly, most distasteful to\nthe great Object of our homage. He \"to whom all hearts be open, all\ndesires known,\" discerns how many of you have come hither to-day\nfrom the earnest desire to hold communion with the Father of\nSpirits, to open your hearts to Him, to unburden yourselves in His\nloving presence of the cares and crosses that have been pressing\nhard upon you through the past week, and by common prayer and\npraise, and the hearing of His holy Word, to gain fresh incentive\nand energy for the prosecution of His work in the world; and how\nmany, on the other hand, from no better motive, perhaps, than\ncuriosity or old habit, or regard to decency and respectability, or\nthe mere desire to get rid of yourselves, and pass a vacant hour\nthat would hang heavy on your hands. And who can doubt that, where\nsuch motives as these prevail, to the piercing, unerring inspection\nof Him whom outwardly we seem to reverence, not the market-place,\nthe exchange, the counting-room appears a place more intensely\nsecular--not the most reckless and riotous festivity, a scene of\nmore unhallowed levity, than is presented by the house of prayer?\n\nBut, on the other hand, carry holy principles with you into the\nworld, and the world will become hallowed by their presence. A\nChrist-like spirit will Christianize everything it touches. A meek\nheart, in which the altar-fire of love to God is burning, will lay\nhold of the commonest, rudest things in life, and transmute them,\nlike coarse fuel at the touch of fire, into a pure and holy flame.\nReligion in the soul will make all the work and toil of life--its\ngains and losses, friendships, rivalries, competitions--its manifold\nincidents and events--the means of religious advancement. Marble\nor coarse clay, it matters not much with which of these the artist\nworks, the touch of genius transforms the coarser material into\nbeauty, and lends to the finer a value it never had before. Lofty\nor lowly, rude or refined, as our earthly work may be, it will\nbecome to a holy mind only the material for something infinitely\nnobler than all the creations of genius--a pure and godlike life. To\nspiritualize what is material, to Christianize what is secular--this\nis the noble achievement of Christian principle. If you are a\nsincere Christian, it will be your great desire, by God's grace, to\nbring every gift, talent, occupation of life, every word you speak,\nevery action you do, under the control of Christian motive. Your\nconversation may not always--nay, may seldom, save with intimate\nfriends--consist of formally religious words; you may perhaps shrink\nfrom the introduction of religious topics in general society; but\nit demands a less amount of Christian effort occasionally to speak\nreligious words, than to infuse the spirit of religion into all\nour words; and if the whole tenor of your common talk be pervaded\nby a spirit of piety, gentleness, earnestness, sincerity, it will\nbe Christian conversation not the less. If God has endowed you\nwith intellectual gifts, it may be well if you directly devote\nthem to His service in the religious instruction; but a man may\nbe a Christian thinker and writer as much when giving to science,\nor history, or biography, or poetry, a Christian tone and spirit,\nas when composing sermons or writing hymns. To promote the cause\nof Christ directly, by furthering every religious and missionary\nenterprise at home and abroad, is undoubtedly your duty; but\nremember that your duty terminates not when you have done all this,\nfor you may promote Christ's cause even still more effectually when\nin your daily demeanor--in the family, in society, in your business\ntransactions, in all your common intercourse with the world--you\nare diffusing the influence of Christian principle around you by\nthe silent eloquence of a holy life. Rise superior, in Christ's\nstrength, to all equivocal practises and advantages in trade;\nshrink from every approach to meanness or dishonesty; let your eye,\nfixed on a reward before which earthly wealth grows dim, beam with\nhonor; let the thought of God make you self-restrained, temperate,\nwatchful over speech and conduct; let the abiding sense of Christ's\nredeeming love to you make you gentle, self-denying, kind, and\nloving to all around you;--then indeed will your secular life become\nspiritualized, whilst, at the same time, your spiritual life will\ngrow more fervent; then not only will your prayers become more\ndevout, but when the knee bends not, and the lip is silent, the\nlife in its heavenward tone will \"pray without ceasing;\" then from\namidst the roar and din of earthly toil the ear of God will hear the\nsweetest anthems rising; then, finally, will your daily experience\nprove that it is no high and unattainable elevation of virtue, but\na simple and natural thing, to which the text points, when it bids\nus to be both \"diligent in business\" and \"fervent in spirit, serving\nthe Lord.\"\n\nAs a last illustration of the possibility of blending religion with\nthe business of common life, let me call your attention to what may\nbe described as the mind's power of acting on latent principles.\n\nIn order to live a religious life in the world, every action must\nbe governed by religious motives. But in making this assertion, it\nis not by any means implied that in all the familiar actions of\nour daily life religion must form a direct and conscious object of\nthought. To be always thinking of God, and Christ, and eternity\namidst our worldly work, and, however busy, eager, interested we\nmay be in the special business before us, to have religious ideas,\ndoctrines, beliefs, present to the mind,--this is simply impossible.\nThe mind can no more consciously think of heaven and earth at the\nsame moment than the body can be in heaven and earth at the same\nmoment. Moreover there are few kinds of work in the world that, to\nbe done well, must not be done heartily, many that require, in order\nto excellence, the whole condensed force and energy of the highest\nmind.\n\nBut tho it be true that we can not, in our worldly work, be\nalways consciously thinking of religion, yet it is also true that\nunconsciously, we may be acting under its ever-present control. As\nthere are laws and powers in the natural world of which, without\nthinking of them, we are ever availing ourselves,--as I do not think\nof gravitation when I move my limbs, or of atmospheric laws when,\nby means of them, I breathe, so in the routine of daily work, tho\ncomparatively seldom do I think of them, I may yet be constantly\nswayed by the motives, sustained by the principles, living,\nbreathing, acting in the invisible atmosphere of true religion.\nThere are under-currents in the ocean which act independently of the\nmovements of the waters on the surface; far down too in its hidden\ndepths there is a region where, even tho the storm be raging on the\nupper waves, perpetual calmness and stillness reign. So there may be\nan under-current beneath the surface-movements of your life--there\nmay dwell in the secret depths of your being the abiding peace\nof God, the repose of a holy mind, even tho, all the while, the\nrestless stir and commotion of worldly business may mark your outer\nhistory.\n\nAnd, in order to see this, it is to be remembered, that many of the\nthoughts and motives that most powerfully impel and govern us in the\ncommon actions of life, are latent thoughts and motives. Have you\nnot often experienced that curious law--a law, perhaps, contrived by\nGod with an express view to this its highest application--by which\na secret thought or feeling may lie brooding in your mind, quite\napart from the particular work in which you happen to be employed?\nHave you never, for instance, while reading aloud, carried along\nwith you in your reading the secret impression of the presence of\nthe listener--an impression that kept pace with all the mind's\nactivity in the special work of reading; nay, have you not sometimes\nfelt the mind, while prosecuting without interruption the work\nof reading, yet at the same time carrying on some other train of\nreflection apart altogether from that suggested by the book? Here\nis obviously a particular \"business\" in which you were \"diligent,\"\nyet another and different thought to which the \"spirit\" turned. Or,\nthink of the work in which I am this moment occupied. Amidst all\nthe mental exertions of the public speaker--underneath the outward\nworkings of his mind, so to speak, there is the latent thought of\nthe presence of auditory. Perhaps no species of exertion requires\ngreater concentration of thought or undividedness of attention than\nthis: and yet, amidst all the subtle processes of intellect,--the\nexcogitation or recollection of ideas,--the selection, right\nordering and enunciation of words, there never quits his mind for\none moment the idea of the presence of the listening throng. Like\na secret atmosphere, it surrounds and bathes his spirit as he goes\non with the external work. And have not you too, my friends, an\nAuditor--it may be a \"great cloud of witnesses,\"--but at least one\nall-glorious Witness and Listener ever present, ever watchful, as\nthe discourse of life proceeds? Why then, in this case too, while\nthe outward business is diligently prosecuted, may there not be\non your spirit a latent and constant impression of that awful\ninspection? What worldly work so absorbing as to leave no room in\na believer's spirit for the hallowing thought of that glorious\nPresence ever near? Do not say that you do not see God--that the\npresence of the divine Auditor is not forced upon your senses as\nthat of the human auditory on the speaker. For the same process\ngoes on in the secret meditations as in the public addresses of\nthe preacher--the same latent reference to those who shall listen\nto his words dwells in his mind when in his solitary retirement he\nthinks and writes, as when he speaks in their immediate presence.\nAnd surely if the thought of an earthly auditory--of human minds and\nhearts that shall respond to his thoughts and words can intertwine\nitself with all the activities of a man's mind, and flash back\ninspiration on his soul, at least as potent and as penetrating may\nthe thought be, or Him, the great Lord of heaven and earth, who not\nonly sees and knows us now, but before whose awful presence, in the\nlast great congregation, we shall stand forth to recount and answer\nfor our every thought and deed.\n\nOr, to take but one other example, have we not all felt that the\nthought of anticipated happiness may blend itself with the work\nof our business hours? The laborer's evening release from toil,\nthe schoolboy's coming holiday, or the hard-wrought business-man's\napproaching season of relaxation--the expected return of a\nlong-absent and much-loved friend--is not the thought of these, or\nsimilar joyous events, one which often intermingles with, without\ninterrupting, our common work? When a father goes forth to his\n\"labor till the evening,\" perhaps often, very often, in the thick of\nhis toils, the thought of home may start up to cheer him. The smile\nthat is to welcome him, as he crosses his lowly threshold when the\nwork of the day is over, the glad faces, and merry voices, and sweet\ncaresses of little ones, as they shall gather round him in the quiet\nevening hours--the thought of all this may dwell, a latent joy, a\nhidden motive, deep down in his heart of hearts, may come rushing\nin a sweet solace at every pause of exertion, and act like a secret\noil to smooth the wheels of labor. And so, in the other cases I\nhave named, even when our outward activities are the most strenuous,\neven when every energy of mind and body is full strung for work, the\nanticipation of coming happiness may never be absent from our minds.\nThe heart has a secret treasury, where our hopes and joys are often\ngarnered--too precious to be parted with even for a moment.\n\nAnd why may not the highest of all hopes and joys possess the same\nall-pervading influence? Have we, if our religion be real, no\nanticipation of happiness in the glorious future? Is there no \"rest\nthat remaineth for the people of God,\" no home and loving heart\nawaiting us when the toils of our hurried day of life are ended?\nWhat is earthly rest or relaxation, what that release from toil\nafter which we so often sigh, but the faint shadow of the saint's\neverlasting rest--the repose of eternal purity--the calm of a\nspirit in which, not the tension of labor only, but the strain of\nthe moral strife with sin, has ceased--the rest of the soul in God!\nWhat visions of earthly bliss can ever--if our Christian faith be\nnot a form--compare with \"the glory soon to be revealed\"--what joy\nof earthly reunion with the rapture of the hour when the heavens\nshall yield our absent Lord to our embrace, to be parted from us\nno more for ever! And if all this be not a dream and a fancy, but\nmost sober truth, what is there to except this joyful hope from\nthat law to which, in all other deep joys, our minds are subject?\nWhy may we not, in this case too, think often, amidst our worldly\nwork, of the Home to which we are going, of the true and loving\nheart that beats for us, and of the sweet and joyous welcome that\nawaits us there? And even when we make them not, of set purpose,\nthe subject of our thoughts, is there not enough of grandeur in the\nobjects of a believer's hope to pervade his spirit at all times\nwith a calm and reverential joy? Do not think all this strange,\nfanatical, impossible. If it do seem so, it can only be because your\nheart is in the earthly hopes, but not in the higher and holier\nhopes--because love to Christ is still to you but a name--because\nyou can give more ardor of thought to the anticipation of a coming\nholiday than to the hope of heaven and glory everlasting. No, my\nfriends! the strange thing is, not that amidst the world's work we\nshould be able to think of our Home, but that we should ever be able\nto forget it; and the stranger, sadder still, that while the little\nday of life is passing,--morning--noontide--evening,--each stage\nmore rapid than the last, while to many the shadows are already fast\nlengthening, and the declining sun warns them that \"the night is at\nhand, wherein no man can work,\" there should be those amongst us\nwhose whole thoughts are absorbed in the business of the world, and\nto whom the reflection never occurs that soon they must go out into\neternity--without a friend--without a home!\n\nSuch, then, is the true idea of the Christian life--a life not\nof periodic observances, or of occasional fervors, or even of\nsplendid acts of heroism and self-devotion, but of quiet, constant,\nunobtrusive earnestness, amidst the commonplace work of the world.\nThis is the life to which Christ calls us. Is it yours? Have you\nentered upon it, or are you now willing to enter upon it? It is\nnot, I admit, an imposing or an easy one. There is nothing in it to\ndazzle, much in its hardness and plainness to deter the irresolute.\nThe life of a follower of Christ demands not, indeed, in our day,\nthe courage of the hero or the martyr, the fortitude that braves\noutward dangers and sufferings, and flinches not from persecution\nand death. But with the age of persecution the difficulties of\nthe Christian life have not passed away. In maintaining, in the\nunambitious routine of humble duties, a spirit of Christian\ncheerfulness and contentment--in preserving the fervor of piety\namidst unexciting cares and wearing anxieties--in the perpetual\nreference to lofty ends amidst lowly toils--there may be evinced a\nfaith as strong as that of a man who dies with the song of martyrdom\non his lips. It is a great thing to love Christ so dearly as to be\n\"ready to be bound and to die\" for Him; but it is often a thing not\nless great to be ready to take up our daily cross, and to live for\nHim.\n\nBut be the difficulties of a Christian life in the world what they\nmay, they need not discourage us. Whatever the work to which our\nMaster calls us, He offers us a strength commensurate with our\nneeds. No man who wishes to serve Christ will ever fail for lack of\nheavenly aid. And it will be no valid excuse for an ungodly life\nthat it is difficult to keep alive the flame of piety in the world,\nif Christ be ready to supply the fuel.\n\nTo all, then, who really wish to lead such a life, let me suggest\nthat the first thing to be done--that without which all other\nefforts are worse than vain--is heartily to devote themselves to\nGod through Christ Jesus. Much as has been said of the infusion\nof religious principle and motive into our worldly work, there\nis a preliminary advice of greater importance still--that we be\nreligious. Life comes before growth. The soldier must enlist before\nhe can serve. In vain are directions how to keep the fire ever\nburning on the altar, if first it be not kindled. No religion can\nbe genuine, no goodness can be constant or lasting, that springs\nnot, as its primary source, from faith in Jesus Christ. To know\nChrist as my Savior--to come with all my guilt and weakness to Him\nin whom trembling penitence never fails to find a friend--to cast\nmyself at His feet in whom all that is sublime in divine holiness\nis softened, though not obscured, by all that is beautiful in human\ntenderness--and, believing in that love stronger than death which,\nfor me, and such as me, drained the cup of untold sorrows, and bore\nwithout murmur the bitter curse of sin, to trust my soul for time\nand eternity into His hands--this is the beginning of true religion.\nAnd it is the reverential love with which the believer must ever\nlook to Him to whom he owes so much, that constitutes the mainspring\nof the religion of daily life. Selfishness may prompt to a formal\nreligion, natural susceptibility may give rise to a fitful one, but\nfor a life of constant fervent piety, amidst the world's cares and\ntoils, no motive is sufficient save one--self-devoted love to Christ.\n\nBut again, if you would lead a Christian life in the world, let me\nremind you that that life must be continued as well as begun with\nChrist. You must learn to look to Him not merely as your Savior from\nguilt, but as the Friend of your secret life, the chosen Companion\nof your solitary hours, the Depositary of all the deeper thoughts\nand feelings of your soul. You can not live for Him in the world\nunless you live much with Him, apart from the world. In spiritual as\nin secular things, the deepest and strongest characters need much\nsolitude to form them. Even earthly greatness, much more moral and\nspiritual greatness, is never attained but as the result of much\nthat is concealed from the world--of many a lonely and meditative\nhour. Thoughtfulness, self-knowledge, self-control, a chastened\nwisdom and piety, are the fruit of habitual meditation and prayer.\nIn these exercises heaven is brought near, and our exaggerated\nestimate of earthly things corrected. By these our spiritual\nenergies, shattered and worn by the friction of worldly work,\nare repaired. In the recurring seasons of devotion the cares and\nanxieties of worldly business cease to vex us; exhausted with its\ntoils, we have, in daily communion with God, \"meat to eat which the\nworld knoweth not of;\" and even when its calamities and losses fall\nupon us, and our portion of worldly good may be withdrawn, we may be\nable to show, like those holy ones of old at the heathen court, by\nthe fair serene countenance of the spirit, that we have something\nbetter than the world's pulse to feed upon.\n\nBut, further, in availing yourself of this divine resource amidst\nthe daily exigencies of life, why should you wait always for the\nperiodic season and the formal attitude of prayer? The heavens are\nnot open to the believer's call only at intervals. The grace of\nGod's Holy Spirit falls not like the fertilizing shower, only now\nand then; or like the dew on the earth's face, only at morning and\nnight. At all times on the uplifted face of the believer's spirit\nthe gracious element is ready to descend. Pray always; pray without\nceasing. When difficulties arise, delay not to seek and obtain at\nonce the succor you need. Swifter than by the subtle electric agent\nis thought borne from earth to heaven. The Great Spirit on high is\nin constant sympathy with the believing spirit beneath, and in a\nmoment, in the twinkling of an eye, the thrill of aspiration flashes\nfrom the heart of man to God. Whenever anything vexes you--whenever,\nfrom the rude and selfish ways of men, any trials of temper cross\nyour path--when your spirits are ruffled, or your Christian\nforbearance put to the test, be this your instant resource! Haste\naway, if only for a moment, to the serene and peace-breathing\npresence of Jesus, and you will not fail to return with a spirit\nsoothed and calmed. Or when the impure and low-minded surround\nyou--when, in the path of duty, the high tone of your Christian\npurity is apt to suffer from baser contacts, oh, what a relief to\nlift the heart to Christ!--to rise on the wings of faith--even\nfor one instant to breathe the air of that region where the\nInfinite Purity dwells, and then return with a mind steeled against\ntemptation, ready to recoil, with the instinctive abhorrence of a\nspirit that has been beside the throne, from all that is impure and\nvile. Say not, then, with such aid at your command, that religion\ncan not be brought down to common life!\n\nIn conclusion, let me once more urge upon you the great lesson\non which we have been insisting. Carry religious principle into\neveryday life. Principle elevates whatever it touches. Facts lose\nall their littleness to the mind which brings principle and law\nto bear upon them. The chemist's or geologist's soiled hands are\nno sign of base work; the coarsest operations of the laboratory,\nthe breaking of stones with a hammer, cease to be mechanical when\nintellectual thought and principle govern the mind and guide the\nhands. And religious principle is the noblest of all. Bring it to\nbear on common actions and coarse cares, and infinitely nobler even\nthan the philosophic or scientific, becomes the Christian life.\nLive for Christ in common things, and all your work will become\npriestly work. As in the temple of old, it was holy work to hew\nwood or mix oil, because it was done for the altar-sacrifice or the\nsacred lamps; so all your coarse and common work will receive a\nconsecration when done for God's glory, by one who is a true priest\nto His temple.\n\nCarry religion into common life, and your life will be rendered\nuseful as well as noble. There are many men who listen incredulously\nto the high-toned exhortations of the pulpit; the religious life\nthere depicted is much too seraphic, they think, for this plain\nand prosaic world of ours. Show these men that the picture is\nnot a fancy one. Make it a reality. Bring religion down from the\nclouds. Apply to it the infallible test of experiment; and, by\nsuffusing your daily actions with holy principles, prove that love\nto God, superiority to worldly pleasure, spirituality, holiness,\nheavenly-mindedness, are something more than the stock ideas of\nsermons.\n\nCarry religious principle into common life, and common life will\nlose its transitoriness. \"The world passeth away!\" \"The things\nthat are seen are temporal.\" Soon business with all its cares\nand anxieties--the whole \"unprofitable stir and fever of the\nworld\"--will be to us a thing of the past. But religion does\nsomething better than sigh and muse over the perishableness of\nearthly things; it finds in them the seed of immortality. No work\ndone for Christ perishes. No action that helps to mold the deathless\nmind of a saint of God is ever lost. Live for Christ in the world,\nand you carry with you into eternity all of the results of the\nworld's business that are worth the keeping. The river of life\nsweeps on, but the gold grains it held in solution are left behind\ndeposited in the holy heart. \"The world passeth away, and the lust\nthereof; but he that doeth the will of God abideth for ever.\" Every\nother result of our \"diligence in business\" will soon be gone.\nYou cannot invent any mode of exchange between the visible and\ninvisible worlds, so that the balance at your credit in the one\ncan be transferred, when you migrate from it, to your account in\nthe other. Worldly sharpness, acuteness, versatility, are not the\nqualities in request in the world to come. The capacious intellect,\nstored with knowledge, and disciplined into admirable perspicacity,\ntact, worldly wisdom, by a lifetime devoted to politics or business,\nis not, by such attainments, fitted to take a higher place among the\nsons of immortality. The honor, fame, respect, obsequious homage\nthat attend worldly greatness up to the grave's brink, will not\nfollow it one step beyond. These advantages are not to be despised;\nbut if these be all that, by the toil of our hand, or the sweat of\nour brow, we have gained, the hour is fast coming when we shall\ndiscover that we have labored in vain and spent our strength for\nnaught. But while these pass, there are other things that remain.\nThe world's gains and losses may soon cease to affect us, but not\nthe gratitude or the patience, the kindness or the resignation,\nthey drew forth from our hearts. The world's scenes of business\nmay fade on our sight, the noise of its restless pursuits may fall\nno more upon our ear, when we pass to meet our God; but not one\nunselfish thought, not one kind and gentle word, not one act of\nself-sacrificing love done for Jesus' sake, in the midst of our\ncommon work, but will have left an indelible impress on the soul\nwhich will go out with it to its eternal destiny. So live, then,\nthat this may be the result of your labors. So live that your work,\nwhether in the Church or in the world, may become a discipline for\nthat glorious state of being in which the Church and the world\nshall become one,--where work shall be worship, and labor shall\nbe rest,--where the worker shall never quit the temple, nor the\nworshiper the place of work, because \"there is no temple therein,\nbut the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are the temple thereof.\"\n\n\n\n\nSTORRS\n\nTHE PERMANENT MOTIVE IN MISSIONARY WORK\n\n\n\n\nBIOGRAPHICAL NOTE\n\n\nRICHARD S. STORRS was born at Braintree, Mass., in 1821. In his\nbook \"Preaching Without Notes,\" he tells of his early practise and\nexperience in pulpit delivery. After fifteen years patient effort\nhe became one of the most accomplished extemporaneous speakers\nin America. He wrote much at first, developing a fine rhetorical\nstyle and a rich vocabulary that subsequently served him well as an\nimpromptu speaker. His advice to divinity students was: \"Always be\ncareful to keep up the habit of writing, with whatever of skill,\nelegance, and force, you can command.\" Because of this early\ntraining in writing he was able later in life to adopt the method\nof thoroughly preparing his thought for his sermons, and of leaving\nthe choice of words and the framing of sentences to the moment of\ndelivery. His greatest success was achieved after he became a purely\nextemporaneous preacher. He was for fifty-four years pastor of the\nChurch of the Pilgrims, Brooklyn. During this time he produced a\nnumber of books, of which the most important is \"The Divine Origin\nof Christianity, Indicated by its Historical Effects.\" He died in\n1900.\n\n\n\n\nSTORRS\n\n1821-1900\n\nTHE PERMANENT MOTIVE IN MISSIONARY WORK\n\n     _Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel to every\n     creature._--Mark xvi., 15.\n\n\nThe Permanent Motive in Missionary Work: it is a catholic and\ncomprehensive, even a cosmopolitan theme. It does not concern itself\nsimply with the interest of foreign missions, technically so called.\nBut, if you think of it, it concerns those in every Christian\ncommunion who are trying to further the cause and kingdom of our\nLord on the earth. It concerns not the missionary fields alone, as\nthey are popularly called, in other lands, but every field in which\nChristian service is sought to be rendered, from the obscurest slum\nin this town of Boston to the ragged edges of the circumference, the\noutmost circumference, of the world of mankind.\n\nWe are familiar, of course, with the temporary, local, changing\nmotives to missionary enterprise, which meet us at times, impress us\nforcibly for the moment, and pass away; the influence of great and\nsignal occasions, when sympathies are almost tumultuously excited;\nthe impulse which comes with a sweeping eloquence, which lifts us\nfrom the common levels of earth, and bears us as on wings toward\nissues and actions which we had not anticipated; perhaps the impulse\nwhich comes with personal interest in missionaries whom we have\nknown, or mission fields which we have traversed. Great successes\non certain fields move our enthusiasm; or tragic and terrible\nexperiences in others, as recently among the Armenians, stir the\ndeep fountains of our feeling. No one of these impulses is to be\ndisregarded. Each one in its place has a power of its own, and all\nare to be valued and welcomed for their effect. But what we are to\nlook for is the motive more deep, permanent, governing, which will\nbe beneath and behind all these; as the tide-motive is beneath and\nbehind the advancing and retreating waves which rise and flash,\nand break upon the beach; and this will be a motive not simple and\nsingle, but no doubt combined of several, distinguishable from\neach other, as a powerful current is made up of different uniting\naffluents. We must separate them in thought, that we may afterward\ncombine them.\n\nI think first, then, we shall all recognize this as essential to\nthe missionary motive: a clear and profound recognition of the\nevilness and misery of the actual condition of mankind, certainly\nas compared with the powers which are instinctive in every human\nsoul. It makes no difference really, or very little, at this point,\nwhether we accept the Scriptural declaration that man has fallen\nfrom a higher estate to his present level, or conceive, with some\nmodern theorizers, that man is just now partially emerging from the\nconditions of his brute ancestry, stumbling up, through sin and\nerror and manifold tremendous mistakes, toward wisdom and virtue,\nand the blessedness which they bring. In either case, the present\ncondition of mankind is one of imperfection, weakness, unsatisfied\ndesire, unrealized promise, and manifold peril. It is not the\nmissionary who tells us this, principally or alone. Every observant\nforeign traveler repeats the same. Everyone who has resided abroad,\nand then he comes back to testify with an unprejudiced mind to that\nwhich he has observed, relates the same. The supreme difficulty\nhere is in the want of the recognition of God, and of the great\nimmortality.\n\nIt used to be a reproach against Christian scholars, made by\nskeptics, that they investigated the ethnic religions in the spirit\nof suspicious hostility, by which their processes were diverted\nfrom true lines, by which their conclusions were colored. I am not\nconcerned to argue the case of the Christian scholars of fifty\nyears ago, or more, but I can certainly affirm that the Christian\nscholars of our own time investigate these religions carefully,\npatiently, sympathetically, with an eager desire to find everything\nin them that is of beautiful worth; and they do find many things\nof truth and beauty, many things which excite their admiration, as\nillustrating the attainment of the higher aspiration of the human\nmind, reaching after the unseen if haply it might find it. But\nthey find nowhere the discovery of one personal God, eternal in\nauthority, immaculate in character, creating man in His own image,\nand opening before him the ageless immensities beyond the grave;\nand in the absence of such recognition of God, and such recognition\nof the immortality, man is left to grope where he can not fly, to\nclutch the earth where he misses heaven. So it is that industrially,\npolitically, commercially, socially, intellectually, he is on the\nlower level, until some exterior power reaches and ennobles him. So\nit is that crime, such as is unknown in Christian communities, is\nfamiliar and tolerated in the world. In fact, we need not fix our\nthought, prominently, on the more devilish crimes which still exist\nin parts and portions of the earth,--cannibalism, infanticide, human\nsacrifices, self-torture, the slavery that would destroy body and\nsoul together in its own hell. Commoner vices have told us the story\nsufficiently,--drunkenness, licentiousness, the gambling passion,\nthe opium habit, the fierce self-will that rushes to its end,\nregardless of anything sacred, in order to attain its pleasure.\n\nAll these we know. How familiar they are to the mind, and in the\nlife, of the world at large! And there seems no power arising\nwithin the circle not reached by Christian influence to relieve\nthe gloom, to elevate those who are opprest by these sore burdens.\nThere _is_ no power. Property asserts its right to oppress, and\nto enjoy; poverty accepts its function, however unwillingly, of\nsuffering in silence; the degradation of woman strikes a vicious\nstab at the heart and conscience of immense communities, while the\noppression of childhood blights life at its germ; and, with the\nprospect of nothing better to come, suicide becomes a common refuge\nfrom the unbearable misery. There is nothing overstated in this\ndescription of the world at large; and you know how it is in your\ncity slums, even in this city of refinement and culture, I have no\ndoubt; certainly in the city in which I live; in the London and\nBirmingham of the other side, where the little girl twelve years old\nhad never heard the name of Christ, where the boy of about the same\nage only knew the nature of an oath by having been his lordship's\ncaddy. These are what we are to reach and lift, if we can do it.\nThese are they to whom we are to bring blessings from the Most\nHigh. Certainly, every heart in which there is a spark of Christian\nsympathy must feel the power of this motive, pressing to the utmost\nand instant exertion of every force to relieve the suffering, to\nenlighten the darkened, and to lift the opprest.\n\nNo one need exaggerate, everyone should recognize, the weakness and\nwretchedness, the exposure and the peril of human society. When we\nremember that in this universe of ours destiny clings closely to\ncharacter, has never anything mechanical or arbitrary about it,\nbut follows the spirit which encounters it, then those tremendous\nwords of our Lord in the twenty-fifth of Matthew have upon them an\nappalling sharpness and reach, as addrest to the great classes and\ncompanies of mankind; and we must recognize it, and hear the solemn\nbell of the universe ringing through His word, and telling us of\nwhat is to be looked for in the hereafter.\n\nBut then with this recognition of the exposure and peril of human\nsociety, of mankind at large, we must associate the recognition of\nthe recoverableness to truth, to virtue and God, of persons and of\npeoples who are now involved in these calamities and pains; to whom,\nnow, unrest and apprehension are as natural as speech or sight; the\nrecoverableness of men as persons, and of communities as well as\npersons.\n\nHere, of course, we come into direct antagonism with the pessimist,\nwho says, \"It is all nonsense! You can't possibly do the work; you\ncan't take these ragged and soiled remnants of humanity in your city\nstreets and weave them into purple and golden garments for the\nMaster; you can not accomplish the effect which you contemplate, in\nthe cities, in your own land, along the frontier, or in other lands.\nIt is as impossible to make the unchaste pure, to make the mean\nnoble, as it is to make crystal lenses out of mud, or the delicate\nelastic watch-spring out of the iron slag!\" That is the world's\nview, a common and a hateful view. Our answer to it is that the\nthing can be done, and has been done, and done in such multitudes\nof instances that there is no use whatever in arguing against the\nfact. Christ came from the heavens to the earth on an errand. He\nknew what was in man; and He did not come from the celestial seats\non an errand known beforehand to be fruitless and futile. He came\nbecause He knew the interior, central, divine element in human\nnature, to which He could appeal and by which He could lift men\ntoward things transcendent. We have seen the examples of success,\nhow many times! Hundreds, yea even thousands of times, in our own\ncommunities, as missionaries have seen them in the lands abroad:\nwhere the woman intemperate, in harlotry, in despair, has been\nlifted to restored womanhood, as the pearl oyster is brought up with\nits precious contents from the slimy ooze; where the man whose lips\nhad been charged with foulest blasphemies has become the preacher\nof the gospel of light and love, of hope and peace, to others, his\nformer comrades; where the feet that were swift to do evil have\nbecome beautiful on the mountains in publishing salvation. We have\nseen these things in individuals and in communities; in the roughest\nfrontier mining-camp, where every door opened on a saloon or a\nbrothel, or a gambling-table, and where, by the power coming from on\nhigh, it has been transformed into the peaceful Christian village,\nwith the home, with the school, with the church, with the asylum,\nwith the holy song, where the former customary music had been the\ncrack of revolvers. We have seen the same thing on a larger scale\nin the coral islands, scenes of savage massacre and of cannibal\nriot and ferocity, where the Church has been planted, and Christian\nfellowships have been established and maintained. We have seen these\nthings, and why argue against facts?\n\nArguing against fact, as men ultimately find out, is like trying\nto stop with articulate breath the march of the stately battleship\nas she sweeps onward to her anchorage. An argument may meet a\ncontrary argument; no argument can overwhelm a fact. And these\nfacts in experience are as sure, as difficult of belief perhaps,\nbut as compulsive of belief, as are the scientific demonstrations\nof the liquid air, of the wireless telegraphy. We do not question\nthe reality of what we see; and we know that these effects have\nbeen produced, on the smaller scale and on the larger. I suppose\nthat everyone who has ever stood on the heights above Naples, at\nthe Church of San Martino, on the way to St. Elmo, has noticed,\nas I remember to have noticed, that all the sounds coming up from\nthat gay, populous, brilliant, fascinating city, as they reached\nthe upper air, met and mingled on the minor key. There were the\nvoices of traffic and the voices of command, the voices of affection\nand the voices of rebuke, the shouts of sailors, and the cries of\nitinerant venders in the street, with the chatter and the laugh of\nchildhood; but they all came up into this incessant moan in the\nair. That is the voice of the world in the upper air, where there\nare spirits to hear it. That is the cry of the world for help. And\nhere is the answer to that cry: a song of triumph and glorious\nexpectation, taking the place of the moan, in the village, in the\ncity, in the great community; men and women out of whom multitudes\nof devils have been cast, as out of him of old, sitting clothed, and\nin their right minds, at the feet of Jesus.\n\nYou can not tell me that it is impossible to produce these effects,\nfor mine own eyes have seen them, mine own hands have touched\nthem. I know their reality, and that every human soul which has\nnot committed the final sin and passed the judgment is recoverable\nto God, if the right remedy be definitely applied; and that every\npeople, however weak, however sinful, however wanting in hope\nand expectation, has within it the possibility, and above it the\npromise, of the millennium. God's power is adequate to all that. We\nwant to associate this idea of the recoverableness of persons and of\npeoples to the highest ideal and to God Himself; we want to combine\nthis with the idea of man's present misery and hopelessness in his\ncondition, to constitute the true and powerful missionary motive;\nand then we want to recognize the fact that the gospel of Christ is\nthe one force which, being used, secures this result in the most\nunpromising conditions.\n\nHere, again, we encounter the opposition of multitudes. How often\nmen have laughed, how loudly they have laughed, at the idea that\nthe story of the crucified Nazarene could inspire a despondent soul\nto hope, could purify the vicious soul into virtue, could bring\nany soul nearer to God! Perhaps somewhere they are laughing at it\nnow; possibly even in this city of Boston, the home of culture and\nrefinement, of fine and wide thought--I don't know, I don't live\nhere; but I know that in the country at large there are always those\nwho are disposed to say, \"It is perfectly puerile to try to reach\nhuman sorrow and human sin with the power of the gospel, lodged in\nthe little book which the child may carry in her hand!\" As if the\ninconspicuous forces in the world's development were not always\nthose deadliest on the one hand, or most benign on the other; as if\nwafts of air did not kill multitudes more than all the batteries of\nartillery; as if the unseen forces, hardly manifesting themselves\nat all, were not those which society seizes by which to advance\nitself most rapidly and grandly--that little spark, vanishing\ninstantaneously, but revealing the unseen force which drives\nmachineries, draws carriages, illuminates cities, and enables you\nand me to talk as if face to face with friends and correspondents\nat the distance of a thousand miles; that fleecy vapor, vanishing\nsilently into the air but representing the gigantic servant of\nmodern civilization, which tunnels mountains, scoops out mines, and\nlinks the continents together with iron bands. These unseen powers\nare the ones that man craves and uses, or that, on the other hand,\nhe dreads and repels; and the power of the gospel, however men may\nsmile at the idea of that power, has vindicated itself too many\ntimes to be assailed by argument, certainly too many times to be\nencountered with ridicule.\n\nThe gospel is able to reconstitute society by reconstructing the\ncharacter of individuals. Through its effect on persons it opens\nthe way for vast national advances. It touches not merely the\nhigher themes, but all the themes that are associated with those,\nand immediately pertinent to the interest of mankind. It teaches\nfrugality and industry, and honesty, by express command, and by the\ndivine example of Him who brought it to us. It turns men, as has\nbeen forcibly said, \"out of the trails of blood and plunder into\nthe path of honest toil.\" It is a gospel for every creature, that\nis, for every created thing; and gardens bloom in a lovelier beauty\nunder its influence, and harvest festivals, of which the country is\nfull to-day, are only its natural and beautiful fruit and trophy.\nIt exalts womanhood; and by the honor it puts on womanhood, and by\nthe honor it puts on childhood, it inaugurates the new family life\nin the world. It honors, as no other religion does or ever did,\nthe essential worth of the immortal spirit in man; and it forces\nhim, pushes him, crowds him, into thoughtfulness and educational\ndiscipline, since it will not allow him to be manipulated into\nparadise by any priestly hand, but comes to him in a Book, and sets\nhim to work to investigate its contents, to inquire concerning it,\nto look out widely around it, and to inform himself by careful\nthought of what it is and what it means.\n\nThere is the basis of colleges and theological seminaries, and I\nhope there will be no quarrel between them! There is the basis of\nall the educational institutions and influences that are worthy in\nthe world. Christianity brings them. It generates by degrees a new\nsocial conscience. It unites communities, on which it has operated,\nin new relationships to each other. International alliances become\npossible, become vital. International law becomes a reality and\na power; beneficence is stimulated, and law becomes ethical. As\nwe have seen recently, in the prodigious excitement of feeling\nthroughout civilized countries in consequence of the apparent gross\ninjustice done to a single French officer by a military court, the\ntime is coming, tho it has not yet fully come, when mankind shall be\none in spirit, and an\n\n            \"... instinct bear along,\n    Round the earth's electric circle,\n    One swift flash of right or wrong.\"\n\nIt is not commerce which does this, it is Christianity. We are\nwitnesses to it. Our ancestors, not many centuries ago, were mere\nrapacious savages, robbers in the forests, pirates on the sea; it\nwas Christianity, brought to them, that lifted them into gladness,\nserenity, great purpose, great expectation and hope; and the new\ncivilization in which we rejoice on either side, I will not say\nof the separating, of the uniting ocean, was founded on that New\nTestament, the folios of which, I believe, are still preserved in\nCorpus Christi College in Cambridge, and in the Bodleian Library\nat Oxford. Here is the basis of what has been the grandest, most\nillustrious, and most prophetic, in the recent history of mankind.\nGive the gospel freedom and it will everywhere show this power.\nAmong the children and youth to whom it goes, among the mature\nand the strong, wheresoever it goes, it grapples conscience, it\nstimulates the heart. That one sentence, \"The blood of Jesus Christ\ncleanseth us from all sin,\" is the profoundest truth, is the most\npersuasive and commanding appeal, ever addrest by an inspired\napostle to the children of mankind; and wherever that is heard, sin\nis lost in penitence, and hope is lost in triumphant vision, and the\nglory of the world disappears before the glory immutable of the Son\nof God!\n\nThen we are to remember, certainly never is this to be forgotten,\nthat the great imperishable motive, surpassing and dominating\nevery other in missionary effort, is adoring love toward Christ,\nas central in the Scripture, glorified in history. No student of\nhistory, no observer of human experience, can fail to see that there\nis the sovereign passion possible to human nature; beside which\nthe passion of love for a friend, for a country, for a business,\nfor studies, may be auxiliary, but must be subordinate. There is\nthe passion which has done the grandest things the world has ever\nknown. There is the passion the vision of which interprets to us\nthe strangest, sublimest pages of history. We have all felt it, I\nam sure, if we are Christian, in our measure, and at times; at the\nsacrament, perhaps; in those sabbaths of the soul of which Coleridge\nspeaks, when the mind eddies instead of flowing onward; when we have\nbeen moved to a great effort for Him whom we love; most keenly,\nperhaps, when we have been in keenest sorrow, when the earth was as\niron under our feet and the heavens as brass above our head, and we\nwere all alone, yet not alone, for there stood beside us One in the\nform of the Son of Man, making luminous the dark! We have felt this\nlove toward Christ; and when we have felt it we have known that no\npower could surpass or approach it in the intensity of its moving\nforce, to every enterprise, great, difficult howsoever it might be\nby which He would be honored.\n\nLove has been the sovereign power in all the Church. Judgment\nmay be generous; love is lavish. Judgment may be stedfast in its\nconclusions; love is heroic in its affirmations. It was love that\ngarnished the house, and poured out the spikenard, and spiced the\nsepulcher. It was love that faced the flames, as in Felicitas and\nPerpetua, fronting the dungeon and not shrinking, fronting the sword\nand not blanching. It was love that said, \"The nearer the sword, the\nnearer to God.\" You can not conquer that power, indestructible, full\nof a divine energy.\n\nAnd with the experience of this comes the vivid vision of the\ndivine Providence, working for the gospel in human history. How\nwonderful it is! Look at the progress of the last ninety years,\nsince missionary work began in this country! The changes, except\nas they are matters of public record and of universal personal\nobservation, would be simply unthinkable--the vast new machineries\nof travel and of commerce; the incalculable additions to the wealth\nof civilized lands; the ever-increasing prosperity and power of\nProtestant nations, in which the gospel is honored; the equally\never-reduced power and lessening fame of nations, ancient and\nfamous, in which the gospel is refused free movement with a home\namong the people; the continually closer approaches of civilized\nand Protestant nations to each other, as of Great Britain and this\ncountry. Many years ago Lord Brougham said, you remember, \"Not an\nax falls in the American forest but it sets in motion a shuttle in\nManchester.\" That has been true ever since, and is more true to-day\nthan ever before. Not a mine is opened, not an industry established,\nnot a mechanism invented in the one country, which is not\nrecognized, and the power of which is not felt, in the other; and\nmore and more their policies are weaving together, not necessarily\nin form, but in fundamental, underlying sympathy. All these things\nare going forward with the opening of regions and realms formerly\ninaccessible to Christianity; so that now the Christianity which\nseemed buried in the catacombs, which seemed burned up in the martyr\nfires, has the freedom of the world, and may everywhere be preached\nin its purity and its power. Here are the plans of God going\nforward; and we ought to feel in ourselves that in every hardest\nwork we do we are only keeping step with the march of omnipotence.\n\nI know that there are many who fear that the prosperity of our\ntimes, the love of pleasure, the desire for ease and enjoyment, are\nto interfere with and stay these plans of the divine Providence for\nthe furtherance of Christ's Church, and of His cause in the world. I\ndo not wonder at the fear, though I do not share it. Unquestionably\nthe secular spirit is more intense and widely distributed at\nthis time than it ever was before, and the opportunities for its\ngratification, in the acquirement of wealth and in the enjoyment of\nevery luxury, are greater than ever before. Undoubtedly it is true\nthat Sunday observance is far less strict, and family discipline\nand training far less careful, than they were, perhaps, in the days\nof our own childhood. Sunday newspapers make almost all American\nministers wish they were Englishmen; and Sunday observance among\nourselves reminds one too often of that colloquy between Joshua and\nMoses as they were coming down from the mount during the idol-feast,\nwhen the younger said, \"There is a noise of war in the camp.\" \"No,\"\nsaid the elder and more discerning, \"it is not the voice of them\nthat shout for the mastery, neither is it the voice of them that cry\nfor being overcome, but it is the voice of them that sing, that I\nhear.\" Sometimes in our congregations I think it is not the shout\nfor the mastery of the truth, pushing it upon men, it is not the\nvoice of them that cry, in penitence and humble obedience, because\nthey are overcome, but it is the voice of them that sing that we\nhear; and the singing is too often in operatic measures, and done by\nquartets, not by congregations! Talleyrand was right in saying years\nago that Americans take their pleasures sadly. I think that we are\nright also, and more nearly right, when we say that Americans take\ntheir religion too lightly, too gaily, as if it were a varnish upon\nlife instead of a fire and power within it.\n\nBut the human soul is still beating, and full of life, in the heart\nof everyone whom we address; and God's gospel has its grip on that\nhuman soul whenever it reaches it through our ministry, lifts it\nnearer the things supernal, and nearer God Himself. While I see\nmany things to make us solicitous, I see nothing to make us timid,\nconcerning these mighty advancing plans of God. If persecution\ncould not stay them, if prelacy could not finally thwart them, I\ndo not believe that bicycles are going to override them, in the\nend, or that they are to find their grave in the fascinating golf\nlinks. No! there is One who sitteth above the circle of the earth,\nand the inhabitants thereof are as grasshoppers; and His plans go\nforth, soundless, silent, except as they come into operation. But\nthey never are broken; they never are drawn back; and the world has\nto learn more and more clearly, every century, that the banners of\nGod are those which never go down in any struggle, and that whoever\nwalks and works with God is sure of the triumph.\n\nThen do not let us forget that this is the sublime interval in\nhistory between the ascension of the Master and His second coming in\npower and glory, to judge the world! \"In a grand and awful time\" the\nhymn says--and I repeat it:\n\n    \"We are living, we are dwelling,\n       In a grand and awful time,\"\n\nwhen the heavens have been luminous with the splendor of the\nascension, and are destined to be luminous again with the awful\nglory of the coming for judgment; and now is our time for work--for\nwork with the energy of the divine Spirit whose dispensation this\nis. That Spirit wrote His gospel by the inspiration of human minds,\nand by the instruments of human hands, on leaves of parchment and\npapyrus. He is writing His gospel now, at large, through His\ninspiration of human minds and guidance of human hands over the\nexpanses of the continents. But it is the same gospel--the gospel\nof sin, the gospel of atonement, the gospel of regeneration, the\ngospel of future judgment, and of future glory for the believing.\nThat is the gospel; and we are to go with Him in extending the\nknowledge of that and in writing it ourselves. Wheresoever we have\nthe opportunity, that is our work; a work greater, more momentous,\nwider in its relations, than any other done upon the earth.\n\nLet us not forget then the meanness, the misery and evilness, of\nhuman society, where the gospel does not enter and pervade it. Let\nus not forget the recoverableness to God of every person and every\npeople, if the divine energies are rightly used. Let us not forget\nthat the gospel of Christ is the power at which men laugh and say,\n\"You are trying to quarry mountains with sunbeams; you are trying\nto lift masses of masonry with aerial or, at best, with silken\nthreads.\" It is the gospel of Christ which is to be the power to\nlift mankind, and glorify God, on all the continents, in all the\nearth. The passion of love for Christ, stimulated by everything\nthat we read or hear, quickened by the Spirit in our hearts, is the\npower that is to loosen amassed wealth and make it fluent, that\nis to vitalize dead wealth and make it active, that is to enter\ninto every languid heart and inspire it for service. And then the\nview of the divine Providence working in history toward one result,\nsteadily steering toward one haven and port,--the earth renewed in\nrighteousness and beautiful before God; and then this dispensation\nof the Spirit, in which we have our time! After the resurrection, a\ndisciple said, \"I go a-fishing.\" Likewise said they all. It seems\nstrange that even after that miracle, which has shot its radiance\neverywhere upon the history of the world, any disciple should have\nyielded to such an impulse. But now shall we, after the ascension\nand when the skies are still glowing with it, after Pentecost has\nopened heavenly principalities and powers to our view and our\nexperience, under the shadow of the great white throne that is\nto be set in heaven--shall we go to building and bargaining, to\nmining and merchandising, as our chief aim in life, and omit this\nsublimest service which angels, it seems to me, must bend above the\nbattlements of heaven to see in its progress, and to make their\nhearts and harps jubilant in its vitality and success?\n\nOh, my friends, let us remember, wheresoever we labor, that our\nerrand is to make this complex, complete, energetic missionary\nmotive more clear to every mind, more thoroughly vigorous and\nenergetic in every heart. Everything else must be postponed! Do\nnot let us spend our strength in picking the gospel to pieces,\nto see if we can't put it together again in a better fashion! Do\nnot let us spend our strength in any denominational controversies\nor collisions. Let us give ourselves, with all our power, to\nmaking this immense missionary motive operative throughout all the\nchurches, throughout and in all Christian hearts; till He shall\ncome whose right it is to reign, and take unto Himself His great\npower, and rule, King of nations as well as King of saints. Let\nus recognize this as the one truly magnificent errand for man on\nthe earth. Let us be filled with the Divine Spirit, that we may\naccomplish it the more perfectly. Let us never intermit the service.\nAnd if, as we grow older, we grow weary with cares and labors, and\nit may be with sorrows, and are disposed sometimes to think we may\nnow rest, let us remember the word of Arnauld, the illustrious Port\nRoyalist, whom even his passionate enemies, the Jesuits, admitted\nto be great, of whom it is recorded that when some one said to him,\n\"You have labored long, now is your time to rest!\" his reply was,\n\"Rest? Why rest, here and now, when I have a whole eternity to rest\nin!\" God in His grace open that tranquil and luminous eternity to\neach of us, where we may find rest in nobler praise and grander\nwork, forevermore; and unto Him be all the praise!\n\n\n\n\nPUNSHON\n\nZEAL IN THE CAUSE OF CHRIST\n\n\n\n\nBIOGRAPHICAL NOTE\n\n\nWILLIAM MORLEY PUNSHON, English Methodist divine, was born at\nDoncaster, in Yorkshire, in 1824. His style was brilliant and\nelaborate, and while his sermons were written out in the minutest\ndetail and carefully committed to memory, they were delivered with\na freshness and vigor that rivaled the charm of extemporaneous\neloquence. Every word he uttered was charged with the force and\nvitality of his great personality. At the Metropolitan Church,\nToronto, Canada, he preached for many years, drawing thousands of\npeople to Christ by the zeal, magnetism and power of his pulpit\noratory. He died in 1881.\n\n\n\n\nPUNSHON\n\n1824-1881\n\nZEAL IN THE CAUSE OF CHRIST\n\n     _For whether we be beside ourselves, it is to God: or whether\n     we be sober, it is for your cause. For the love of Christ\n     constraineth us; because we thus judge, that if one died for\n     all, then were all dead; and that he died for all, that they who\n     live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto him\n     who died for them, and rose again._--2 Cor. v., 13-15.\n\n\nIt is always an advantage for the advocate of any particular cause\nto know the tactics of his adversary. He will be the better prepared\nfor the onset, and repel the attack the more easily. Forewarned\nof danger, he will intrench himself in a position from which it\nwill be impossible to dislodge him. The apostle Paul possest this\nadvantage in a very eminent degree. In the earlier years of his\napostleship, the Jew and the Greek were the antagonists with whom\nhe had to contend. Having been himself a member of the straitest\nsect of the Jews, he knew full well the antipathy with which they\nregarded anything which set itself by its simplicity in contrast\nwith their magnificent ritual; and he knew also the haughty scorn\nwith which they turned away from what they deemed the unworthy\naccessories of the Nazarene. And, well read as he was in classic\nliterature, and acquainted with all the habits and tendencies of the\nGrecian mind, he could readily understand how the restraints of the\ngospel would be deemed impertinent by the voluptuous Corinthian, and\nhow the philosophic Athenian would brand its teachers mad. And yet,\nrejoicing in the experimental acquaintance with the gospel, he says,\nfor his standing-point of advantage: \"We preach Christ crucified,\nto the Jews a stumbling-block and to the Greeks foolishness, but to\nthem that are called, the power of God and the wisdom of God.\" And\nin the words of the text, addressing some of those very Corinthians\nupon whom the gospel had exerted its power, he seems to accept\nthe stigma and vindicate the glorious madness: \"For whether we be\nbeside ourselves, it is to God: or whether we be sober it is for\nyour cause. For the love of Christ constraineth us; because we thus\njudge, that if one died for all, then were all dead; and that he\ndied for all, that they who live should not henceforth live unto\nthemselves, but unto him who died for them, and rose again.\" The\ngreat purpose of the apostle in these words is to impress upon\nus the fact that the cause of Christ in the world, sanctioned by\nthe weight of so many obligations, fraught with the destinies\nof so many millions, should be furthered by every legitimate\nmeans; that for it, if necessary, should be employed the soberest\nwisdom; and for it, if necessary, the most impassioned zeal. He\nvindicates the use of zeal in the cause of Christ by the three\nfollowing considerations: First, from the condition of the world;\nsecondly, from the obligations of the Church; and, thirdly, from the\nmaster-motive of the Savior's constraining love. To illustrate and\nenforce this apostolic argument, as not inappropriate to the object\nwhich has called us together, will be our business for a few brief\nmoments to-night.\n\nI. The apostle argues and enforces the use of zeal in the cause\nof Christ, in the first place, from the condition of the world.\nThe apostle speaks of the world as in a state of spiritual death.\nHe argues the universality of this spiritual death from the\nuniversality of the atonement of Christ. \"For the love of Christ\nconstraineth us, because we thus judge, that if one died for all,\nthen were all dead\"--dead in sin, with every vice luxuriant and\nevery virtue languishing; dead in law, judicially in the grasp\nof the avenger; nay, \"condemned already,\" and hastening to the\nsecond death. We need not remind you that this is by no means the\nworld's estimate of its own condition. It is short-sighted, and,\ntherefore, self-complacent. There is a veil over its eye; there\nis a delusion at its heart. In that delusion it fancies itself\nenthroned and stately, like some poor lunatic, an imaginary monarch\nunder the inflictions of its keeper. The discovery of its true\nposition comes only when the mind is enlightened from on high. \"We\nthus judge,\" not because there is in us any intuitional sagacity,\nor any prophetical foresight, by which our judgment is made more\naccurate than the judgment of others; but the Holy Spirit has come\ndown, has wrought upon us--has shown us the plague of our own\nhearts--and from the death within us we can the better argue the\ndeath which exists around. And that this is the actual condition\nof the world, Scripture and experience combine to testify. The\nBible, with comprehensive impartiality, concludes all \"under sin\";\nrepresents mankind as a seed of evil-doers--\"children that are\ncorrupters\"--sheep that have wandered away from the Shepherd and\nBishop of their souls. In the adjudication of Scripture there is no\nexemption from this common character of evil, and from this common\nexposure to danger. The men of merciful charities, and the woman\nof abandoned life--the proudest peer, and the vilest serf in his\nbarony--the moralist observer of the decalogue, and the man-slayer,\nred with blood, all are comprehended in the broad and large\ndenunciation: \"Ye were by nature children of wrath, even as others.\"\nAnd out in the broad world, wherever the observant eye travels, you\nhave abundant confirmation of the testimony of Scripture. You have\nit in your own history. The transgressions and sins which constitute\nthis moral death abound in our age no less than in any former age\nof mankind. There are thousands around you who revel in undisguised\ncorruption. There are thousands more externally reputable who have\nonly a name to live. You have this confirmation in the nations of\nthe Continent--some safely bound by the superstition of ages; others\nsubsiding into a reactionary skepticism. You have this confirmation\nfurther away in the countries which own Mohammedan rule, and cherish\nthe Mohammedan's dream--where you have unbridled lust, and a tiger's\nthirst for blood. You have this confirmation in the far-off regions\nof heathenism proper, where the nature, bad in itself, is made a\nthousand fold worse by its religion--where the man is the prey of\nevery error, and the heart the slave of every cruelty--where men\nlive in destruction, and where men die in despair. Travel where\nyou will, visit the most distant regions, and search under the\nshadow of the highest civilization--penetrate into the depths of\nthose primeval forests, into whose original darkness you might\nhave imagined the curse would hardly penetrate, and the result is\nuniformly the same. Death is everywhere. You see it, indeed, in all\nits varieties now in the rare and fading beauty which it wears just\nafter the spirit has fled from the clay, when its repose seems the\nworn-out casket, which the soul has broken, and thrown away; now,\nwhen there is shed over it a hue of the sublime, and it is carried\namid the tears to burial, and now, when corruption has begun its\nwork, and its ill odor affects the neighborhood, and spreads the\npestilence--you see it in all its varieties, but uniformly death\nis there. We gather from our melancholy pilgrimage no vestige\nof spiritual life. Mourners go about the streets, and there are\nmourners over many tombs.\n\nAltho, as we have observed just now, a thorough and realizing\nestimate of the world's condition comes only when the judgment is\nenlightened from on high, the wise men of the world, the minds\nthat have in all ages towered above their fellows, have felt an\nunsatisfactoriness for which they could hardly account; they\nhave had a vague and morbid consciousness that all was not right\nsomehow, either with themselves or with their race; they have met\nwith disturbing forces, signs of irregularity, tokens of misery\nand of sin that have ruffled, somewhat, the philosophic evenness\nof their minds. Each in his own way, and from his own standpoint,\nhas guessed at the solution of the problem, and has been ready\nwith a suggested remedy. The peoples are imbruted; educate them.\nThe nations are barbarous; civilize them. Men grovel in sensual\npleasure; cultivate the esthetic faculty; open to them galleries\nof pictures; bring them under the humanizing influences of art.\nMen groan in bondage; emancipate them, and bid them be free! Such\nare some of the tumultuous cries that have arisen from earnest\nbut blind philanthropists, who have ignored the spiritual part of\nman's nature, and forgotten altogether the Godward relations of his\nsoul. All these, as might have been expected, valuable enough as\nauxiliaries, worth something to promote the growth and comfort of\na man when life has been once imparted, fail, absolutely fail to\nquicken the unconscious dead. In all cases the bed has been shorter\nthan that a man could lie on it, and the covering narrower than\nthat he could wrap himself in it. The inbred death lay too deep\nfor such superficial alchemy; corpses can not by any possibility\nanimate corpses; and the compassionate bystander from other worlds,\nsickened with the many inventions, might be constrained to cry,\n\"Amid all this tumult of the human, O for something divine!\" And\nthe divine is given--Christ has died for all men. There is hope for\nthe world's life. This is a death whereby we live; this is a remedy\ncommensurate with existing need, and intended entirely to terminate\nand extinguish that need.\n\nThat squalid savage, whose creed is a perpetual terror, and whose\nlife is a perpetual war--Christ hath died for him. That fettered\nand despairing slave, into whose soul the iron has entered, valued\nby his base oppressor about on a par with the cattle he tends,\nor with the soil he digs--Christ hath died for him. That dark\nblasphemer, who lives in familiar crime, whose tongue is set on fire\nof hell, whose expatriation would be hailed by the neighborhood\naround him as a boon of chiefest value--Christ has died for him.\nThat dark recluse, whom an awakened conscience harasses, and who, in\nthe vain hope of achieving merit by suffering, wastes himself with\nvigilant penance well-nigh to the grave--Christ has died for him.\nOh, tell these tidings to the world, and it will live. Prophesy of\nthis name in the motionless valley, and the divine Spirit who always\nwaits to do honor to Jesus will send the afflatus from the four\nwinds of heaven, and they shall leap into life to His praise.\n\nNow take these two points. Think in the first place, of the\ncondition of the world--a condition so disastrous, that nothing but\ndeath can illustrate it--a condition which prostrates every faculty,\nwhich smites the body with unnumbered cruelties, which dwarfs the\nmind with prejudices or distorts it into unholy passion, which\nbanishes the soul and mind within a man in hopeless estrangement\nfrom happiness and God; and then think of the death of Christ,\nproviding for the furthest need, overtaking the utmost exile,\npouring its abundant life upon the sepulchered nations, diffusing\nlight, liberty, hope, comfort, heaven: and I appeal to your\nenlightened judgment whether you are not bound, those of you who\nbelieve in Jesus, to labor for the world's conversion with intensest\nenergy and zeal. Oh, if temporal miseries elicit sympathy, and\nprompt to help; if the anxieties of a neighborhood gather around a\ndrowning child, or are fastened upon the rafters of a burning house,\nwhere, solitary and imploring, stands a single man, already charred\nby the flame, how much of sympathy, of effort, of liberality, of\nzeal, of prayer, are due to a world lying in the wicked one, and\npanting after the second death! You will agree with me, that there\nis more than license for the poet's words:\n\n    \"On such a theme,\n       'Tis impious to be calm!\"\n\nAnd you will rejoice--will you not? to take your stand to-night by\nthe apostle's side, and to cry, when men deem your zeal impertinence\nand your efforts fanaticism, \"If we be beside ourselves, it is to\nGod: and if we be sober, it is for your cause.\"\n\nII. The apostle argues the necessity for zeal in the cause of\nChrist, secondly, from the obligations of the Church, in that He\ndied for all, that they should live--should not henceforth live\nunto themselves, but for Him who died for them and rose again. The\napostle's argument is this--none of us has life in himself; if we\nlive at all, we live by imparted life; we live because life has been\ndrafted into our spirits from on high. Then it is not our own; it\nbelongs to Him who has purchased it for us with His own blood, and\nwe are bound to employ it in His service, and for His glory. This\nalso is the conclusion of an enlightened judgment. We judge this as\nwell as the other, and this is in accordance with the whole tenor\nof Scripture. Time would fail us to mention a tithe of the passages\nin which devotion--the devotion of the heart and of the service of\nGod are made matter of constant and of prominent demand. I will just\nmention one passage that may serve as an illustration of all: \"I\nbeseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye give\nyour bodies as a living sacrifice.\" Have you ever gaged the depth of\nconsecration that slumbers in the heart of those words--\"a living\nsacrifice\"; to be absolutely and increasingly devoted to God, as if\nthe knife were at the throat, and the life-blood streamed forth in\nvotive offering? Nay, better than that; because the life-blood could\nstream out but once, but the living sacrifice may be a perpetual\nholocaust, repeated daily for a lifetime--a living sacrifice, holy\nand acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service. From the\ndoctrine of this passage, and of numberless others kindred to it,\nit would appear that the regenerate heart is not at liberty to live\nfor itself, nor to aim supremely at its own gratification; it must\nlive for Him who has died for it, and who has risen again. You can\nnot fail, I think, to perceive that compliance with this exhortation\nis utterly antagonistic to the ordinary procedure of mankind.\n\nIn the age of organization against idolatry, there is one proud,\nrampant idolatry which retains its ascendency amongst us.\nSelfishness is the most patronized idolatry in the world. It is\nthe great image whose brightness is exceeding terrible, and before\nwhich all men bow; it is a throne, and an empire, and the likeness\nof a kingly crown; it equips armies and mans armaments to gratify\nits lust of power. Fastnesses have been explored and caverns\nransacked to appease its thirst for gold. It presides over the\ncouncils of kings and over the diplomacy of cabinets; for it the\nmerchantman grindeth down his manhood, for it the treader-under-foot\nof nations marcheth in his might and in his shame; its votaries\nare of all handicrafts--of the learned professions, and of every\nwalk in life. It hath sometimes climbed on to the judgment-seat,\nand perverted justice there. The cowled monk hath hidden it beneath\nhis robe, and it hath become for him an engine of oppression, and\nit hath occasionally robed itself in holy vestments, and entered\nthe priest's office for a morsel of bread. No grace or virtue of\nhumanity is free from its contamination. It has breathed, and\npatriotism has degenerated into partisanship; it has breathed,\nand friendship has been simulated for policy; it has breathed,\nand charity has been blemished by ostentation; it has breathed,\nand religion has been counterfeited for gold; its sway is a\ndespotism--its territory wherever man hath trodden, and it is the\nundisputed anarch of the world. Now it is against this principle\nin human nature, throned within us all, doggedly contesting every\ninch of ground, that Christianity goes forth to combat. The gospel\nabsolutely refuses to allow self to be the governing power, and\nassaults it in all its strongholds with precepts of sublime\nmorality. To the selfishness of avarice it goes up boldly, even\nwhile the miser clutches his gold, and says: \"Give to him that\nasketh of thee, and from him that would borrow of thee turn not\nthou away.\" To the selfishness of anger it addresses itself, even\nwhen the red spot is yet on the brow of the angry: \"Let not the sun\ngo down upon thy wrath\"; \"Bless them that curse you, pray for them\nthat despitefully use you and persecute you.\" To the selfishness of\npride, even in its haughtiness and arrogance, it says: \"In honor\npreferring one another, be clothed with humility, let each esteem\nanother better than himself.\" To the selfishness of indifference to\nthe concerns of others, \"Look not on thine own things, but likewise\nupon the things of others\"; and to the selfishness of souls and\ncriminal neglect of the great salvation, it speaks in tones of\npathos which that must be a callous heart that can withstand, \"Ye\nknow the graces of our Lord Jesus Christ, who, tho he was rich, yet\nfor our sins he became poor, that we, through his poverty, might be\nmade rich.\" Oh, how small, alongside of august and heavenly precepts\nlike these, are the sublimest maxims of any merely ethical morality!\n\nIt is said that, once, during the performance of a comedy in the\nRoman theater, one of the actors gave utterance to the sentiment,\n\"I am a man; nothing, therefore, that is human can be foreign to\nme,\" and the audience were so struck by the disinterestedness, or\nso charmed by the novelty, that they greeted it with thunders of\napplause. How much greater wealth of kindly wisdom and prompting to\nunselfish action lies hidden in the gospel of Christ, shrined there\nas every-day utterances passed by the most of us very slightingly\nby! Oh! let there be anything like the genial practise of this\ndivine morality, and the world would soon lose its aspect of\ndesolation and of blood; oppression and over-reaching, and fraud\nand cruelty, would be frowned out of the societies of men, and\nthis earth would be once more an ample and a peopled paradise. By\nselfishness, as we have thus endeavored to describe it, we mean that\ngrasping, monopolizing spirit which gets all and gives nothing;\nheedful enough of its own fortunes, careless of the concerns and\ninterests of others. This is the principle in our nature which\nChristianity opposes, and with which it ceaselessly wages war. But\nthere is a sort of selfishness which, for the sake of distinction,\nwe may call self-love, which is instinctive, and therefore\ninnocent--that merciful provision by which we are prompted to the\ncare of our own lives and to the avoidance of everything that would\ndisquiet or abridge them. This principle in our nature Christianity\nencourages; to this principle Christianity addresses itself; and\nhence it has connected, married in indissoluble union, man's\nchiefest duty and man's highest pleasure. Godliness is profitable\nunto all things, having the promise of the life that now is. What\nhas the dark, morbid, unhappy sensualist to do with it? Godliness\nhath the promise of the life \"that now is,\" as well as \"that which\nis to come.\" In keeping Thy commandments there is a present reward.\n\"Take my yoke upon you and learn of me, for I am meek and lowly\nin heart, and ye shall find rest unto your souls; for my yoke is\neasy and my burden is light.\" \"In thy presence there is fulness of\njoy; at thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore.\" Just as\nit is in man's physical organization, and its adaptation to the\nmaterial world around him, when body and mind are alike in health,\nwe can neither eat, nor drink, nor walk, nor sleep, nor sing, nor\nperform any of the commonest actions of life without a sensation of\npleasure; so it is in the spiritual life: there is pleasure in its\nevery motion. There is pleasure even in the sting of penitence; it is\n\n    \"A godly grief and pleasing smart,\n     That melting of a broken heart.\"\n\nThere is pleasure in the performance of duty; there is pleasure\nin the enjoyment of privilege; there is pleasure in the overcoming\nof temptations, a grand thrill of happiness to see trampled under\nfoot a vanquished lust or slain desire; there is pleasure in the\nexercise of benevolence; there is pleasure in the importunity of\nprayer. Hence it is that the apostle seeks to rivet the sense of\npersonal obligation by the remembrance of personal benefit. \"We\nthus judge, that he died for all, that they which live should not\nhenceforth live unto themselves, but unto him who\"--owns them?\nNo. Claims them? No. Will judge them? No; but--\"to him who died\nfor them and rose again.\" Gratitude is to be the best prompter to\nour devotion. Those who live to Christ, those who live by Christ,\nwill not tamely see His altars forsaken, His Sabbaths desecrated,\nHis name blasphemed, the blood of the covenant wherewith He was\nsanctified accounted an unholy thing. Brethren, are you of that\nhappy family? Have you obtained life from the dead through His name?\nThen you are bound to spend it for His honor, and, watching with\ngodly jealousy for every possible opportunity of doing good, to\nspend and be spent for them who have not yet your Master known. I\ncall on you to answer this invocation; it belongs to you. There is\nno neutrality, believe me, in this war--and if there be some of you\nthat would like to be dastardly and half-hearted trimmers, you will\nfind by and by that you have got the hottest place in the battle,\nexposed to the cross-fire from the artillery of both parties. I call\non you decisively to-night to answer this invocation. Call up before\nyour minds the benefits you have individually received; think of\nthe blessings which the death of Christ has procured for you--the\nremoval of the blighting curse which shadowed all your life, the\npresent sense of pardon, mastery over self and over sin, light in\nthe day of your activity, and songs in the night of your travail;\nthe teaching Spirit to lead you into still loftier knowledge,\nand the sanctifying Spirit to impress upon you the image of the\nheavenly; that divine fellowship which lightens the present, and\nthat majestic hope which makes the future brighter far. Think of\nthe benefits which the resurrection of Christ has conferred upon\nyou; light in the shadowed valley, the last enemy destroyed, support\namid the swellings of Jordan, a guide upon the hither side of the\nflood, angelic welcomes, the King in his beauty, and \"a house not\nmade with hands, eternal in the heavens.\" And then, as the sum of\nfavor is presented, and gratitude arises and the fire burns, and\nthe heart is full, and the frame quivers with the intensity of its\nemotions, just remember that there is a world lying in the wicked\none, that there are multitudes, thousands upon thousands, in your\nown city, at your own doors, for whom the Savior died, who never\nheard His name; that there are multitudes for whom He has abolished\ndeath who have never felt His resurrection's power. Let your tears\nflow; better, far better a tear for God's sake and the world's sake\nthan the hard-heartedness and darkness of sin. Lift up your voice in\nthe midst of them; lift it up, be not afraid. Say unto the cities of\nJudah, \"Behold your God.\" Men will call you mad, but you can give\nthem the apostle's answer, \"If we be beside ourselves, it is to God;\nif we be sober, it is for your cause.\"\n\nIII. The apostle argues the necessity of zeal in the cause of\nChrist, in the third place, from the master motive of the Savior's\nconstraining love. \"The love of Christ constraineth us\"--forces\nus along, carries us away as with the impetuosity of a torrent,\nor rather as when cool heavens and favoring air speed the vessel\nsteadily to the haven. Love is at once man's most powerful motive\nand his highest inspiration, both in the life that now is and that\nwhich is to come. From love to Christ spring the most devoted\nobedience, the most untiring efforts in His service. There are\nother springs of action, I know, by which men are influenced\nto a profession of religion. Interest can occasionally affect\ngodliness from sordid aims, and behave itself decorously amid the\nrespectabilities of the temple-going and almsgiving religion; but it\nwill give its arm to any man that goes down to the house of Rimmon;\nand if there is a decree that at the sound of all kinds of music\nthey are to fall down before another image which has been erected in\nthe plains of Dura, they will be the most obsequious benders of the\nknee. Men sometimes practise obedience under the influence of fear.\nA sudden visitation, a prevailing epidemic, an alarming appeal, will\nstrike into momentary concern; but when the indignation is overpast,\nand the craven soul has recovered from its paroxysms of terror,\nthere will often be a relapse into more than the former atrocities\nof evil. Convictions of duty may and sometimes will induce a man,\nlike an honest Pharisee of the olden time, to observe rigidly the\nenactments of the law; but there will be no heart in his obedience,\nand no holy passion in his soul; but let the love of God be shed\nabroad in his heart by the Holy Ghost given unto him, let there be\na perception of love in God, let there be sight of the Crucified as\nwell as of the cross, and there will be disinterested, and cheerful,\nand hearty obedience. Zeal for God will become at once a passion and\na principle, intensifying every purpose into ardor, and filling the\nwhole soul with vehemence of absorbing desire. This is the emotion\nfrom whose natural and inevitable outflow the apostle vindicates\nimpassioned zeal.\n\nOpinions are divided as to whether the constraining love spoken of\nin the text refers to Christ's love to us or to our love to Him,\nwhich the sense of His love has enkindled in the soul. I do not\nthink we can go far wrong if we take both meanings, inasmuch as no\nprinciple of exposition is violated, and as we need the pressure of\na combination of motive, that we may be zealously affected always\nin this good thing. Ye, then, if there are any of you here who\nneed rousing to energy in the service of Christ, think of His love\nto you; how rich its manifestations, and how unfeigned; how all\nother love of which it is possible for you to conceive shrinks in\nthe comparison! There have been developments in the histories of\nyears of self-sacrificing affection, which has clung to the loved\nobject amid hazard and suffering, and which has been ready even\nto offer up life in its behalf. Orestes and Pylades, Damon and\nPythias, David and Jonathan, what lovely episodes their histories\ngive us amid a history of selfishness and sin! Men have canonized\nthem, partly because such instances are rare, and partly because\nthey are like a dim hope of redemption looming from the ruins of\nthe fall. We have it on inspired authority, indeed, \"Greater love\nhath no man than this\"--this is the highest point which man can\ncompass, this is the culminating point of that affection which man\ncan by possibility attain, the apex of his loftiest pyramid goes\nno higher than this--\"greater love hath no man than this, that a\nman lay down his life for his friend; but God commendeth his love\ntoward us, in that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us.\" A\nbrother has sometimes made notable efforts to retrieve a brother's\nfortunes, or to blanch his sullied honor; but there is a Friend that\nsticketh closer than a brother. A father has bared his breast to\nshield his offspring from danger, and a mother would gladly die for\nthe offspring of her womb; but a father's affection may fail in its\nstrength, and yet more rarely a mother's in its tenderness.\n\nAnd \"can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have\ncompassion on the son of her womb? Yea, they may forget, yet will I\nnot forget thee.\" O Jesus of Nazareth, who can declare Thee? \"Herein\nis love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his\nSon to be a propitiation for our sins.\" Think of that love--love\nwhich desertion could not abate--love which ingratitude could not\nabate--which treachery could not abate--love which death could not\ndestroy--love which, for creatures hateful and hating one another,\nstooped to incarnation, and suffered want, and embraced death, and\nshrank not even from the loathesomeness and from the humiliation\nof burial; and then, with brimming eye, and heart that is full of\nwonder: \"Why such love to me?\" you will indeed be ungrateful if you\nare not stirred by it to an energy of consecration and endeavor,\nwhich may well seem intemperate zeal to cool reckoners with worldly\nwisdom.\n\nThen take the other side of the argument; take it as referring to\nyour love to Christ, which the sense of His love has enkindled in\nthe soul. The deepest affection in the believing heart will always\nbe the love of Jesus. The love of home, the love of friends, the\nlove of letters, the love of rest, the love of travel, and all\nelse, are contracted by the side of this master passion. \"A little\ndeeper,\" said one of the veterans of the first Napoleon's old\nguard, when they were probing in his bosom for a bullet that had\nmortally wounded him, and he thought they were getting somewhere\nin the region of the heart--\"a little deeper and you will find\nthe Emperor.\" Engraven on the Christian's heart deeper than all\nother love of home or friends, with an ineffaceable impression that\nnothing can erase, you find the loved name of Jesus. Oh! let this\naffection impel us, and who shall measure our diligence or repress\nour zeal? Love is not bound by rule; there is no law that can bind\nit; it is never below the precept, it is always up to the precept,\nbut it always has a margin of its own. It does not calculate,\nwith mathematical exactitude, with how little of obedience it can\nescape penalty and secure recompense; like its Master it gives in\nprincely style; it is exuberant in its manifestations; there is\nalways enough and to spare. And if meaner motive can prompt to\nheroic action--if from pure love of science astronomers can cross\nthe ocean familiarly, and dare encounter dangers, just that they may\nwatch in distant climes the transit of a planet across the disc of\nthe sun--and if botanists can travel into inhospitable climes and\nsojourn among inhospitable men, only to gather specimens of their\ngorgeous flora--and if, with no motive but love of country, and no\nrecompense save bootless tears and an undying name, a Willoughby\ncould sacrifice himself to blow up a magazine, and a Sarkeld could\nfire the Cashmere Gate at Delhi, surely we, with obligations\nincomparably higher, with the vows of profession on our lips, with\ndeath busy in the midst of us, and souls going down from our\ndoors into a joyless and blasted immortality, ought to present our\nlife-blood, if need be, for the cause of Christ, and for the good\nof souls. Let the scoffers spurn at us as they will; we are far\nsuperior to such poor contumely. Heaven applauds our enthusiasm, and\nwe vindicate it in the apostle's words: \"If we be beside ourselves,\nit is to God; and if we be sober, it is for your cause.\"\n\n\n\n\nHOW TO SPEAK IN PUBLIC\n\n_A Most Suggestive and Practical Self-Instructor_\n\nBY GRENVILLE KLEISER\n\nAuthor of \"Power and Personality In Speaking,\" Etc.\n\nThis new book is a complete elocutionary manual comprizing numerous\nexercises for developing the speaking voice, deep breathing,\npronunciation, vocal expression, and gesture; also selections for\npractise from masterpieces of ancient and modern eloquence. It is\nintended for students, teachers, business men, lawyers, clergymen,\npoliticians, clubs, debating societies, and in fact every one\ninterested in the art of public speaking.\n\nOUTLINE OF CONTENTS\n\n  Mechanics of Elocution       Previous Preparation\n  Mental Aspects               Physical Preparation\n  Public Speaking              Mental Preparation\n  Selections for Practise      Moral Preparation\n                Preparation of Speech\n\n     \"Many useful suggestions in it.\"--_Hon. Joseph H. Choate_, New\n     York.\n\n     \"It is admirable and practical instruction in the technic\n     of speaking, and I congratulate you upon your thorough\n     work.\"--_Hon. Albert J. Beveridge._\n\n     \"The work has been very carefully and well compiled from a\n     large number of our best works on the subject of elocution.\n     It contains many admirable suggestions for those who are\n     interested in becoming better speakers. As a general test for\n     use in teaching public speaking, it may be used with great\n     success.\"--_John W. Wetzel_, Instructor in Public Speaking, Yale\n     University, New Haven, Conn.\n\n\"COURSE OF STUDY\" BOOKLET GIVEN FREE WITH EACH BOOK\n\n_12mo, Cloth. $1.25, net; post-paid, $1.40_\n\nFUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY, Pubs.\n\nNEW YORK AND LONDON\n\n\n\n\nHOW TO DEVELOP\n\nPOWER AND PERSONALITY\n\nIN SPEAKING\n\nBY GRENVILLE KLEISER\n\nAuthor of \"How to Speak in Public.\" Introduction by Lewis O.\nBrastow, D.D., _Professor Emeritus, Yale Divinity School_\n\nThis new book gives practical suggestions and exercises for\nDeveloping Power and Personality in Speaking. It has many selections\nfor practise.\n\n     =POWER.=--Power of Voice--Power of Gesture--Power of\n     Vocabulary--Power of Imagination--Power of English Style--Power\n     of Illustration--Power of Memory--Power of Extempore\n     Speech--Power of Conversation--Power of Silence--Power of a\n     Whisper--Power of the Eye.\n\n     =PERSONALITY.=--More Personality for the Lawyer--The\n     Salesman--The Preacher--The Politician--The Physician--The\n     Congressman--The Alert Citizen.\n\n     \"I give it my hearty commendation. It should take its place upon\n     the library shelves of every public speaker; be read carefully,\n     consulted frequently, and held as worthy of faithful obedience.\n     For lack of the useful hints that here abound, many men murder\n     the truth by their method of presenting it.\"--S. PARKES CADMAN,\n     D.D., Brooklyn, N. Y.\n\n     \"It is a book of value. The selections are fine. It is an\n     excellent book for college students.\"--WM. P. FRYE, _President\n     pro tem. of the United States Senate_.\n\n_12mo, Cloth, 422 pages._\n\n_Price, $1.25, net; by mail, $1.40._\n\n  FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY, Pubs.\n  NEW YORK AND LONDON\n\n\n\n\n_An Indispensable Volume_ for those who would write and speak pure\nEnglish.\n\nA Desk-Book of Errors in English\n\nBy Frank H. Vizetelly, F.S.A.\n\n     _Author of \"The Preparation of Manuscript for the Printer.\"\n     Associate Editor of the \"Standard Dictionary,\" etc._\n\nThis compact volume deals with the hundred and one questions that\narise in daily speech and correspondence, and which are not usually\ntreated in the dictionary in the same manner as in this handy and\ntime-saving book.\n\n     \"So many common errors of speech are dinned in our ears\n     daily that we grow careless and adopt them as correct.... It\n     should be on the table of everyone who wishes to speak pure\n     English.\"--_The Item, Philadelphia._\n\n     \"It is a book that should be on every writer's desk. If\n     studied in season and out of season it will correct numerous\n     inelegancies and vulgarities of speech.\"--_The Union_,\n     Springfield, Mass.\n\n     \"The book is admirably arranged to facilitate search for\n     a decision on a mooted point or a doubtful usage, and is\n     invaluable for the writer who lacks the leisure for extended and\n     thoughtful research.\" _Star_, Washington, D. C.\n\n_12mo, Cloth, 242 pages. 75 cents_\n\n  FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY, Pubs.\n  NEW YORK AND LONDON\n\n\n\n\nThe Vest-Pocket Standard Dictionary\n\nEdited by JAMES C. FERNALD, L.H.D.\n\n(_Abridged from the Standard Dictionary_)\n\nDISTINGUISHING FEATURES\n\n_The Correct Spelling, Pronunciation, Syllabication, and Definition\nof About 30,000 Terms_\n\n     All Words of Disputed Spellings\n\n     Words with Irregular Plural Formation\n\n     Key to Scientific Alphabet\n\n     Parliamentary Law at Sight\n\n     Legal Holidays in all the States of the American Union\n\n     Interest Tables\n\n     Rates of Interest in all States of the American Union\n\n     Chart of (_a_) States of the Union, (_b_) Population, (_c_)\n     Capitals, (_d_) Dates of Admission, (_e_) Total Population of\n     the United States\n\n     Presidents of the United States\n\n     Postal Information\n\n     Telegraph and Cable Rates\n\n     Domestic and Foreign Weights and Measures\n\n     The Metric System\n\n     Rules for Pronunciation\n\n     Rules for Spelling\n\n     Rules for Punctuation\n\n     Abbreviations, Foreign Words and Phrases\n\n     Rulers of the World\n\n     Foreign Possessions of the United States\n\n     The Largest Cities of the World\n\n     Countries of the Postal Union\n\n     Tables of Money of the World\n\n     Standard Time\n\n_Cloth, 25 cents. Flexible leather, 50 cents. Indexed, 5 cents\nadditional._\n\n  FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY, Pubs.\n  NEW YORK AND LONDON\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nTranscriber's note:\n\nMinor typographical errors have been corrected without note.\nIrregularities and inconsistencies in the text have been retained as\nprinted.\n\nMissing page numbers are page numbers that were not shown in the\noriginal text.","title":"The World's Great Sermons, Volume 06: H. W. Beecher to Punshon","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":54147}