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G. Elmslie, D.D.:Memoir and -Sermons, by William Gray Elmslie - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Professor W. G. Elmslie, D.D.:Memoir and Sermons - -Author: William Gray Elmslie - -Editor: W. Robertson Nicoll - A. N. MacNicoll - -Release Date: September 24, 2019 [EBook #60348] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK W. G. ELMSLIE: MEMOIR AND SERMONS *** - - - - -Produced by MFR, Chris Pinfield and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div id="tnote"> - -<p>Transcriber's Note:</p> - -<p>Obvious printer errors have been corrected silently.</p> - -<p>Correspondence included in the 'Memoir' has been set in smaller font.</p> - -<p>A notice of another book by one of the editors has been shifted to the end.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="image-center"> - <img src="images/frontis.jpg" width="411" height="700" alt="frontis" /> - <div class="caption"> - <p>Yours faithfully,<br /> - W. G. Elmslie</p> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="front"> - -<h1>PROFESSOR W. G. ELMSLIE, D.D.:<br /> -<i>MEMOIR AND SERMONS</i>.</h1> - -<p><span style="font-size:50%">EDITED BY</span><br /> -W. ROBERTSON NICOLL, M.A., LL.D.,<br /> -<span style="font-size:50%">AND</span><br /> -A. N. MACNICOLL.</p> - -<p><span style="font-size:75%"><i>SECOND EDITION.</i></span></p> - -<p><span style="font-size:60%"><b>London:</b></span><br /> -HODDER AND STOUGHTON,<br /> -<span style="font-size:75%">27, PATERNOSTER ROW.</span></p> - -<p><span style="font-size:50%">MDCCCXC.</span></p> - -<p><span style="font-size:50%">Printed by Hazell, Watson, & Viney, Ld., -London and Aylesbury.</span></p> - -</div> - -<hr /> - -<h2>ADVERTISEMENT.</h2> - -<p class="drop-cap">MY share in this book has been the writing of the -brief introductory Memoir, with the exception -of the pages relating to Regent Square and Willesden. -These have been contributed by Mr. A. N. Macnicoll, -who has also given me the benefit of his advice throughout. -I have also to acknowledge the kindness of -Principal Dykes, who has read the proofs, and of the -friends who have, amid pressing engagements, enriched -the volume with their reminiscences. The many correspondents -who sent help of various kinds are warmly -thanked. There was abundant material for a larger -biography, and some of it will be utilised in another -way. But it was thought desirable that the memorial -volume should be issued at a moderate price, and that -it should, so far as possible, consist of Professor -Elmslie's own work.</p> - -<div class="foot"> -<div class="right2">W. R. N.</div> -</div> - -<p class="gap-above">For the selections from Dr. Elmslie's sermons which -are contained in this volume I am entirely responsible. -These sermons were seldom fully written out, and some -of them required considerable amplification. In every -case the thought of the writer has been rigidly preserved, -and the wording has been left, as far as -possible, untouched. In cases where I have had the -benefit of short-hand reports I have, with the slightest -alteration, printed the sermons as they were delivered. -Two "Sunday Readings" are reprinted from <i>Good -Words</i>, and an article on Genesis from the <i>Contemporary -Review</i>.</p> - -<div class="foot"> -<div class="right2">A. N. M.</div> -</div> - -<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> - -<table class="toc" summary="ToC"> - -<tr> - <td style="width:2.5em"></td> - <td></td> - <td style="width:2.5em" class="pag"><small>PAGE</small></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="2" class="title">MEMOIR</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="3" class="chap"><br />SERMONS</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="3" class="chap">I.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="2" class="title">CHRIST AT THE DOOR</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_81">81</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td></td> - <td class="addl">"Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear My voice, and - open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he - with Me."—<span class="smc">Rev.</span> iii. 20.</td> - <td></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="3" class="chap">II.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="2" class="title">THE DARK ENIGMA OF DEATH</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_92">92</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="3" class="chap" style="font-size:80%"><span - class="smc">St. John</span> xi.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="3" class="chap">III.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="2" class="title">THE STORY OF DORCAS</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_108">108</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="3" class="chap" style="font-size:80%"><span - class="smc">Acts</span> ix. 36-43.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="3" class="chap">IV.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="2" class="title">UNFULFILLED CHRISTIAN WORK</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_118">118</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td></td> - <td class="addl">"And unto the angel of the Church in Sardis write; These things saith - He that hath the seven Spirits of God, and the seven stars; I know thy - works, that thou hast a name that thou livest, and art dead. Be - watchful and strengthen the things which remain, that are ready to die: - for I have not found thy works perfect before God."—<span class="smc">Rev.</span> iii. - 1, 2.</td> - <td></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td></td> - <td class="addl">Reading the last clause a little more literally will more fully bring - out the meaning: "For I have found no works of thine fulfilled before - my God."—R.V.</td> - <td></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="3" class="chap">V.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="2" class="title">A LESSON IN CHRISTIAN HELP</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_133">133</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td></td> - <td class="addl">"Wherefore lift up the hands which hang down, and the - [en]feeble[d] knees; and make straight [smooth] paths for [with] your - feet, lest that which is lame be turned out of the way; but let it - rather be healed [or, in order that that which is lame may not be - caused to go astray, but may rather be healed]."—<span class="smc">Heb.</span> xii. 12, 13.</td> - <td></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="3" class="chap">VI.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="2" class="title">JOSEPH'S FAITH</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_149">149</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="3" class="chap" style="font-size:80%">(<i>Preached on - Sunday Evening, October 20th, 1889, in<br /> - St. John's Wood Presbyterian Church.</i>)</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td></td> - <td class="addl">"By faith Joseph, when he died, made mention of the departing of the - children of Israel; and gave commandment concerning his - bones."—<span class="smc">Heb.</span> xi. 22.</td> - <td></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="3" class="chap">VII.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="2" class="title">THE BRAZEN SERPENT</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_162">162</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td></td> - <td class="addl">"He [Hezekiah] removed the high places, and brake the images, and cut - down the groves, and brake in pieces the brasen serpent that Moses had - made: for unto those days the children of Israel did burn incense to - it: and he called it Nehushtan."—<span class="smc">2 Kings</span> xviii. 4.</td> - <td></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="3" class="chap">VIII.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="2" class="title">THE GRADATIONS OF DOUBT</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_175">175</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="3" class="chap" style="font-size:80%"><span - class="smc">Psalm</span> lxxiii.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="3" class="chap">IX.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="2" class="title">THE STORY OF QUEEN ESTHER</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_192">192</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="3" class="chap" style="font-size:80%">(<i>Preached in - Balham Congregational Church, on Sunday<br />Evening, August 11th, 1889.</i>)</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="3" class="chap" style="font-size:80%"><span - class="smc">Esther</span> iv. 13-17.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="3" class="chap">X.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="2" class="title">THE EXAMPLE OF THE PROPHETS</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_205">205</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td></td> - <td class="addl">"Take, my brethren, the prophets, who have spoken in - the name of the Lord, for an example."—<span class="smc">James</span> v. 10.</td> - <td></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="3" class="chap">XI.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="2" class="title">THE MAKING OF A PROPHET</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_220">220</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="3" class="chap" style="font-size:80%">(<i>Preached at - Nottingham, before the Congregational<br />Union of England - and Wales, on Monday Evening,<br />October 8th, 1888.</i>)</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td></td> - <td class="addl">"In the year that King Uzziah died I saw the Lord - sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up, and His train overspreading - the temple floor. Seraphs were poised above, each with six wings, with - twain veiling his face, with twain veiling his feet, and with twain - hovering. And those on one side sang in responsive chorus with those on - the other side, saying, 'Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts. The - fulness of the whole earth is His glory.' And the foundations of the - threshold trembled at the sound of that singing, and the house was - filled with incense smoke. Then cried I, 'Woe is me! for I am a dead - man; because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a - people of unclean lips; for mine eyes have seen the King, the Lord of - hosts.' Then flew one of the seraphs unto me, having in his hand a - burning ember, which with a tongs he had taken from off the incense - altar; and he touched my mouth with it, and said, 'Lo, this hath - touched thy lips; and thine iniquity is taken away, and thy sin - purged.' Thereupon I heard the voice of the Lord, saying, 'Whom shall I - send, and who will go for us?' Then I cried, 'See me; send - me.'"—<span class="smc">Isaiah</span> vi. 1-8 (<i>annotated</i>).</td> - <td></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="3" class="chap">XII.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="2" class="title">FOR AND AGAINST CHRIST</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_230">230</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td></td> - <td class="addl">"He that is not with Me is against Me: and he that - gathereth not with Me scattereth."—<span class="smc">Luke</span> xi. 23.</td> - <td></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td></td> - <td class="addl">"He that is not against us is on our part."—<span - class="smc">Mark</span> ix. 40.</td> - <td></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="3" class="chap">XIII.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="2" class="title">THE PROPHECY OF NATURE</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_240">240</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td></td> - <td class="addl">"When I consider Thy heavens, the work of Thy fingers, the moon and the - stars, which Thou hast ordained; what is man, that Thou art mindful of - him? and the son of man, that Thou visitest him? For Thou hast made him - a little lower than the angels, and hast crowned him with glory and - honour. Thou madest him to have dominion over the works of Thy hands; - Thou hast put all things under his feet."—<span class="smc">Psalm</span> viii. 3-6.</td> - <td></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td></td> - <td class="addl">"But now we see not yet all things put under - Him."—<span class="smc">Heb.</span> ii. 8.</td> - <td></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="3" class="chap">XIV.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="2" class="title">CHRISTIAN GIVING</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_248">248</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="3" class="chap" style="font-size:80%">(<i>Preached in - Willesden Presbyterian Church, September 24th, 1882.</i>)</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td></td> - <td class="addl">"O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? The sting - of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to - God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. - Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye steadfast, unmovable, always - abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your - labour is not in vain in the Lord."—<span class="smc">1 Cor.</span> xv. 55-8.</td> - <td></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td></td> - <td class="addl">"Now concerning the collection for the saints, as I have given order to - the churches of Galatia, even so do ye. Upon the first day of the week - let every one of you lay by him in store, as God hath prospered him, - that there be no gatherings when I come. And when I come, whomsoever ye - shall approve by your letters, them will I send to bring your - liberality unto Jerusalem."—<span class="smc">1 Cor.</span> xvi. 1-3.</td> - <td></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="3" class="chap">XV.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="2" class="title">OUR LORD'S TREATMENT OF ERRING FRIENDS</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_267">267</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="3" class="chap" style="font-size:90%"><span - class="smc">Sunday Readings.</span></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="sunread">I.</td> - <td>Read Ps. cxxxviii., and John xiii. 1-17.<br /> - <span class="smc">The Self-asserting.</span>—John xiii. 4, 5.</td> - <td></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="sunread">II.</td> - <td>Read Job xvi., and Matt. xxvi. 31-46.<br /> - <span class="smc">The Unsympathetic.</span>—John xiii. 1-3.</td> - <td></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="sunread">III.</td> - <td>Read 2 Sam. xxiv., and John xxi. 15-23. - <span class="smc">The Wilful.</span>—John xiii. 6-10.</td> - <td></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="sunread">IV.</td> - <td>Read 1 Sam. xxiv., and Luke xxii. 47-62.<br /> - <span class="smc">The Faithless.</span>—John xiii. 11.</td> - <td></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="sunread">V.</td> - <td>Read Isa. xl., and 1 Cor. xiii.<br /> - <span class="smc">The Secret of Magnanimity.</span>—John xiii. 12-17.</td> - <td></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="3" class="chap">XVI.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="2" class="title">A HYMN OF HEART'S EASE</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_284">284</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="3" class="chap" style="font-size:90%"><span - class="smc">Sunday Readings.</span></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td></td> - <td style="font-size:90%">"Lord, my heart is not haughty,<br /> - Nor mine eyes lofty:<br /> - Neither do I exercise myself in great matters,<br /> - Or in things too high for me.<br /> - Surely I have behaved<br /> - And quieted myself;<br /> - As a child that is weaned of its mother,<br /> - My soul is even as a weaned child.<br /> - Let Israel hope in the Lord<br /> - From henceforth and for ever."—Ps. cxxxi.</td> - <td></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="sunread">I.</td> - <td>Read Job xxvi., and 1 Cor. xiii.<br /> - <span class="smc">The Source of Unrest.</span><br /> - "Things too high for me."</td> - <td></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="sunread">II.</td> - <td>Read Ps. xxxvii., and Matt. xi.<br /> - <span class="smc">The Secret of Rest.</span><br /> - "Lord my heart is not haughty, nor mine eyes lofty."</td> - <td></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="sunread">III.</td> - <td>Read Ps. lxxiii. and Heb. xii.<br /> - <span class="smc">Calm after Storm.</span><br /> - "Surely I have behaved and quieted myself."</td> - <td></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="sunread">IV.</td> - <td>Read Ps. xlvii. and Phil. ii.<br /> - <span class="smc">Victory by Surrender.</span><br /> - "As a child that is weaned of his mother: my soul is even as a weaned - child."</td> - <td></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td class="sunread">V.</td> - <td>Read Gen. xxxii. and Rev. vii.<br /> - <span class="smc">The Recompense of Faith.</span><br /> - "Let Israel hope in the Lord from henceforth and for ever."</td> - <td></td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="3" class="chap">XVII.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> - <td colspan="2" class="title">THE FIRST CHAPTER OF GENESIS</td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_302">302</a></td> -</tr> - -</table> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">{1}</a></div> - -<h2>MEMOIR.</h2> - -<p class="drop-cap">ALTHOUGH Dr. Elmslie was not destined to a long -career, and died with the greater purposes of -his life work almost entirely unfulfilled, very few men -in the Nonconformist churches of Great Britain were -better known and loved. The expectations of many in -his native Scotland were fixed on him from the first; -in England no preacher of his years had a larger or -more enthusiastic following. Among students of the -Old Testament he was beginning to be known as a -master in his own subject, and as one likely to accomplish -much in the reconciliation of criticism and faith. -Add to this that he possessed the rarer charm of an -almost unique personal magnetism—that many were -attached to him by the chain which is not quickly -broken, the bond of spiritual affinity, and it becomes -necessary to apologise only for the imperfections, not -for the existence, of this memorial.</p> - -<p class="gap-above"><span class="smc">William Gray Elmslie</span> was born in the Free Church -Manse of Insch, Aberdeenshire, October 5th, 1848, the -second son of the Rev. William Elmslie, M.A., and -May Cruickshank, his wife. Writing to his parents -from Berlin more than twenty years after, he says, -"How thankful I ought to be that I was born in dear -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">{2}</a></span> -old Scotland, and in the humble little Free Church manse -of Insch!" His father was famous for his shrewd, -homely, genial wisdom. He was a native of Aberdeen, -and had the strong sense and quick perception for which -Aberdonians are known. By no means without the -nobler enthusiasms of Christianity, he had shared in -the fervour of the Disruption movement, and was the -popular and successful minister of a congregation large -for the district, and including many members of earnest -Christian principle. Mr. Elmslie was the father and -counsellor of the whole parish; his advice was sought -by members of all Churches, and cheerfully given. If -there was any danger of his practical nature becoming -somewhat too hard and worldly, the influence of his -wife was a corrective. Dr. Elmslie's mother—a beautiful -and accomplished woman—was a religious enthusiast. -"I recognised," writes her son, from the New -College, Edinburgh, "mamma's review in the <i>Free -Press</i> by the words 'wrestling believing prayer.'" They -were indeed characteristic, and it was the rare union of -mystic elevation and warmth with perfect comprehension -of ordinary life that gave Dr. Elmslie his separate -and commanding place among the teachers of his time. -The austerity, the somewhat chilly rigour which characterised -manse life in the Free Church were not -found at Insch. The children never suffered from the -want of affection—what the French call <i>le besoin d'être -aimé</i>. All the best was brought out in them, and in -the case of our subject the brightness and sweetness -of his disposition procured for him more than ordinary -endearments. Two lovingly preserved letters in a large -round child's hand give a better idea of the home than -anything I can say. The first describes a visit to -Huntly and the home of Duncan Matheson, the great -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">{3}</a></span> -evangelist, who did yeoman service in the Crimean -War.</p> - -<div class="ltr"> - -<div class="top"> -<div class="right1"><span class="smc">"Insch</span>, <i>July 14th, 1856</i>.</div> -</div> - - <p>"<span class="smc">My dear Mamma</span>,—I am always glad when I hear that you are all - keeping well. I have such a long string of news that I do not know - where to begin, for I was at Huntly, and saw so many things there. I - will now tell you the most of what I saw. I first saw the Bogie, and a - few sheep being washed in it. When I arrived at Huntly, and had walked - a short distance, Mr. Matheson and I met his dog Dash. When I got to - the house I was first shown the Bugle, then the Drum, and three swords; - one was broken after killing five Rusians, and the man who had used it - killed. And then I saw the Rifle, and fired it off, though without - shot. When I got out of the house I went to a shop where I bought a gun - and Almonds, and on our way home Miss Matheson and I called on the - Lawsons, and brought Johny and Jamie home, where we met William Brown, - with his Aunt Mrs. Douglas, waiting us. When we went into the house - there were two pistols which William and I took, and frightened some - boys with them. I saw a piece of the rock of Gibralter. I saw a piece - of wood made into stone, and two teeth—one a shark's, and the other an - Alligator's—hardened into stone. There were medals and coins of the - various countries of Europe, a piece of a church in Sevastopool, and a - thing which the Russian soldiers wear on their coats. I also saw a - brush which the Turks use for brushing themselves. I also saw an idol - and a great many pictures of the Virgin Mary. I saw a small - picture-book with all the different priests of Rome. Our Rabbits are - all quite well and growing. I am your affᵗᵉ Son,</p> - -<div class="foot"> -<div class="right1"><span class="smc">"William Gray Elmslie</span>."</div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">{4}</a></div> - -<div class="ltr"> - - <p>"<span class="smc">My dear Mama</span>,—I am glad to hear that Papa is keeping better. - How I would like to be with you, and see the beautiful scenery and the - many rabbits. Tell our cousins to come here some time soon, and let - them see our rabbits if they will come. I send some Heather and some - broom which we got on the hill beside John Davison, and took tea with - him. I enclose what I got down of the forenoon sermon. I am your affᵗᵉ - son,</p> - -<div class="foot"> -<div class="right1"><span class="smc">"W. G. Elmslie</span>."</div> -</div> - -<p>P.S.—We sometimes receive to small dinners, but sometimes pretty good.</p> - -<div class="foot"> -<div class="right1"><span class="smc">"W. G. Elmslie</span>."</div> -</div> - -</div> - -<p>The religious forces of the time were those of that -Evangelicalism which has been the base of so many -powerful characters, even among those who have afterwards -rejected it, like Cardinal Newman and George -Eliot. These were reinforced by the influences of the -Disruption, then at their strongest. It was something -to be born at such a time, a time when, to use the words -of Lacordaire, there was a noble union of heroic character -and memorable achievement. The pecuniary -poverty and spiritual opulence of Scotland, on which -Carlyle has said so much, were then seen at their best. -If a cautious, reticent race, impatient of extravagant -action and unmeasured speech, is to be found anywhere, -it is among the peasants of Aberdeenshire; but when -possessed and stirred by religious feeling they are -capable of unyielding firmness and unstinted devotion. -These qualities were remarkably brought out at the -Disruption. The religious life of New England, pictured -by Harriet Beecher Stowe, must have been -similar in many things, and Dr. George Macdonald, -who was born in Huntly, a few miles from Insch, has -rendered some aspects with incomparable beauty and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">{5}</a></span> -tenderness in his first works. The preaching was -intensely theological. The great highways of truth -were trodden and retrodden. Texts were largely -taken from the Epistles, and the doctrines of grace -were accurately and thoroughly expounded. Freshness, -style, and the other qualities now held essential -to popular sermons were unknown. But the preaching -did its work, nevertheless, as Dr. Macdonald says, -because it <i>was</i> preaching—the rare speech of a man to -his fellows, whereby they know that he is in his inmost -heart a believer. As the result, every conscience -hung out the pale or the red flag. Dr. Macdonald -complains of the inharmonious singing, but others -will testify with Mrs. Stowe that the slow, rude, and -primitive rendering of the metrical Psalms excited them -painfully. "It brought over one, like a presence, the -sense of the infinite and the eternal, the yearning, -and the fear, and the desire of the poor finite being, so -ignorant and so helpless." Not less impressive was -the piety to be found among the peasants. There were -David Elginbrods in their ranks, men among whom -you felt in the presence of the higher natures of the -world—and women delivered from lonely, craving -solitude by the Eternal Love that had broken through -and ended the dark and melancholy years. These were -to be found not only among the prominent Church -members, but among others willing to be unknown, -to be stones sunk in the foundation of the spiritual -building. Under such influences the boy became a -Christian almost unconsciously. There was no crisis -in his life, that I can trace. When a mere boy he -writes to his parents, during their absence from Insch, -that he had conducted family worship according to -their desire. "It required a great deal of previous -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">{6}</a></span> -thought and prayer, too, for I have found that is useful, -and not study only, in preparing for the service of -God. Yet I have good cause to be glad and thankful -that I am able to do it; and I feel it a real relief and -privilege to commit all to the care of God." At this -time he visited an aged member of his father's Church, -and prayed with her. He repeats with pride the compliment -paid him in return, "Ye ken hoo to be kind -and couthy wi' a puir auld body." His faith and vision -grew clearer, but in cruder shape those thoughts were -his from the beginning that haunted him to the very -end.</p> - -<p>The intellectual atmosphere of the place was much -more quickening than might be thought. Insch is a -cosy little village enough, and though not in itself -beautiful, has picturesque bits near it. But even in -summer sunshine it can hardly be called lively, and in -winter, when the snow is piled for weeks on hill and field, -and the leaden-coloured clouds refuse to part, it could -not well look duller. But the Free Church manses of the -district were full of eager inquiry. The ministers were -educated men, graduates of the University, and in -some cases had swept its prizes. Their ambition was -satisfied in the service of Christ. There was a noble -contentment with their lot which it is inspiring to think -of; but they cherished a righteous ambition for their -children, and spared no toil and no self-denial to open -the way for them. From three Free Church manses in -that neighbourhood, all at first included in the same -Presbytery, have gone forth men whose names are -familiar to the English people. From the manse of Keig, -Professor Robertson Smith; from Rhynie, Mr. A. M. -Mackay, of Uganda, the true successor to Livingstone, -whose early death is announced as these sheets are -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">{7}</a></span> -passing through the press; and from Insch, Professor -Elmslie. The educational facilities of the district were -of almost ideal excellence. The parish teachers, when -salaries were increased by certain wise and liberal -bequests, were almost without exception accomplished -scholars. They took pride in a promising pupil, and -would cheerfully work extra hours to ensure his success. -Their fees were sufficiently moderate, one pound being -enough to cover all expenses for a year. At these -schools a boy might remain till he had reached the age, -say, of fourteen or fifteen, when he might go to Aberdeen -to compete for a scholarship, or "bursary" as it -was called. Of these, perhaps forty were offered every -year, varying from £35 a year for the University -course, downwards. It was thought wiser to go for -the last year or two to the Grammar School in Aberdeen, -to receive the last polish; but often lads went in from -their native glens, and defeated all competitors. Elmslie -was trained at first in the Free Church school at Insch, -then at the parish school, under the Rev. James -McLachlan. He then proceeded to the Aberdeen -Grammar School, where he was two years, under the -Rev. William Barrack, a teacher of rare attainments and -enthusiasm. He carried off one of the highest honours, -and in 1864 entered the University of Aberdeen.</p> - -<p>It is, or was, the ambition of every hopeful youth in -the North to wear the student's gown. "Oh that God -would spare me to wear the red cloakie!" said John -Duncan, afterwards the well-known Professor of Hebrew -in the New College, Edinburgh, when weakened by an -early illness. The life of the Aberdeen student has -never, perhaps, been rendered with sufficient fidelity, -save in "Alec Forbes," and Dr. Walter Smith's "Borland -Hall," and it may have changed in some respects -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">{8}</a></span> -since Elmslie's time. Then it was emphatically a period -of plain living and hard work. Eight shillings a week -sufficed to cover many a student's expenses for board -and lodging, amounting to less than £10 for the -twenty weeks of the session, and the summer was -spent at home. The spirit of the place was democratic -in the extreme. There were a few students who came -out of wealthy families, but any claim to respect on -this ground would have been fiercely resented. George -Macdonald tells of an aristocrat among the students -condemned and sentenced by a meeting presided over by -"the pale-faced son of a burly ploughman." The high -spirits of youth would at times break out in coarse and -even ferocious excesses, but these were rare, and the -characteristic of the place was a limitless persistency of -application. Most of the men felt that this was their -one chance. If they could distinguish themselves, there -were scholarships to be had which would open the path -to Oxford or Cambridge, or give them a fair chance in -other fields of life. Some yielded to temptation, and -became wrecks; others, after a period of obscuration, -recovered themselves; a few soon abandoned the quest -for University honours, and busied themselves with -other lines of reading and study; but Elmslie set -himself, without flinching or turning aside, to his task. -Evil did not lure him. There was no stamp of moral -<i>défaillance</i> on that clear brow. His watchful parents -were still with him, for they set up another home in -Aberdeen, and were constantly with their children. It -ought, perhaps, to be mentioned that Elmslie's father -was an enthusiastic total abstainer, in days when the -practice was quite unfashionable, and in many parts of -the country entirely unknown. In this his son warmly -sympathised, maintaining the principle of abstinence to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">{9}</a></span> -the end of his life, and carrying out the practice even -during his studies in Germany. He wrote home, when -assistant in Regent Square, "Glad you are getting on -so famously in the temperance line, and do hope it -will have a permanent and wide influence." But the -secret of his University success was his indefatigable -labour at the prescribed tasks. Although he -might well be termed <i>l'esprit soudain</i>, he was capable of -the long-continued and daily application which belongs -to the rare union of ardour and patience. He had the -characteristic of his countrymen—nothing could daunt -him from fighting the battle out. His success accordingly -was great and growing. In a class which numbered, -perhaps, an unusual proportion of brilliant men, he -steadily made his way to the front. He distinguished -himself by taking prizes in almost every department of -study, specially excelling in mathematics, and closed -his career by carrying off the gold medal awarded by -the Aberdeen Town Council to the first student of the -year, in April, 1868. The victory was not gained without -a price. From the first his studies brought on -some occasional headaches, and the first triumph resulted -in a serious illness, which his wise and skilful -physician, Dr. Davidson, of Wartle, warned him would -reappear twenty years later—an ominous prophecy, -which was but too exactly fulfilled. The chief intellectual -force in the Northern University at that time -and long after was Dr. Alexander Bain, the Professor -of Logic. In after life Dr. Elmslie frequently referred -to his influence. But other chairs were also occupied -by powerful men. Geddes infected many with his own -enthusiasm for Greek literature; Fuller and Thomson -were admirably efficient teachers of mathematics; and to -name no more, "Jeems" Nicol, the Professor of Natural -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">{10}</a></span> -History, with his hoarse voice, his homely kindness, -and his thorough knowledge of his subject, was a universal -favourite. Thomson was, perhaps, the most -original and cynical character of them all, and his dry -wit had a great attraction for Elmslie.</p> - -<p>The Rev. Thomas Nicol, of Tolbooth, Edinburgh, a -distinguished minister of the Church of Scotland and -one of the most outstanding of Professor Elmslie's classfellows, -wrote thus to his father: "Since Dr. Elmslie's -death I have often gone back to the days, just twenty-five -years ago, when we first met at the bursary -competition, and in the Bageant class at King's College, -Aberdeen. Even from the first he was one of the most -winsome and attractive members of the class, full of -fun and mirth, with a perennial smile on his beautiful -and finely formed face, and with a cheery word for -everybody. I can see him to-day, with his neat Highland -cape and the college gown over it, coming through -the quadrangle, as distinctly as if it were yesterday, and -it is easier for me preserving that picture because we -have met so seldom of recent years. He is associated -in my mind with another of our classfellows, who -achieved distinction early, and early met an heroic and -tragic death—I mean Mr. William Jenkyns, C.I.E., who -died with Sir Louis Cavagnari, at Cabul. Your son -and he were unlike in some things, but in delicacy of -features, and expressiveness of countenance, and slimness -of figure one associates them at once together. -When I was helping to get up funds for the memorial of -Mr. Jenkyns now in the University Library at Aberdeen -I well remember the cheerfulness with which Mr. -Elmslie contributed, and the kindly words of affection -and esteem which accompanied his contribution. Of -both it might most truly be said that 'being made -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">{11}</a></span> -perfect, in a short time they fulfilled a long time.' -Like others of my classfellows, Mr. Bruce, our first -Bursar, now minister of Banff, W. L. Davidson, LL.D., -minister of Bourtie, and our mutual friend John Smith, -of Broughton Place Church here, and many more, I -watched your son's career with the deepest interest, -and as I have said, took quite a pride in the career of -usefulness and honour which by his ability and hard -work he shaped for himself in London. We really felt -as if he were our own somehow, and as if we had a -share in all the honours he was gaining, both as a -literary and as a public man." The Rev. W. A. Gray, -of Elgin, who was brought up in a neighbouring Free -Church manse, says, "What characterised him then was -his intense sense of fun, his perception of the comic -side of things, especially in regard to people, and his -never-failing stock of anecdotes, almost always humorous, -never malicious." Coming several years after -Elmslie to the University of Aberdeen, I only knew him -from a distance. To an outsider his prominent quality -was winsomeness. There was no jealousy in Aberdeen -of fairly won success; if there had been, Elmslie would -have disarmed it. Then, as always, he took his victories -with the utmost simplicity. He was always -humble, with the humility which is very consistent with -strenuous effort and even great ambition.</p> - -<p>The sons of Free Church ministers in those days, however -great their University successes might have been, -generally desired no higher position than that of their -fathers. It was, no doubt, the wish of his parents that -Elmslie should be a minister, and his inclination fell -in with that. At the same time there were counter-inducements; -for one, many Aberdeen students had -been winning high distinction at Cambridge, the senior -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">{12}</a></span> -wranglership having fallen to some of them, and his -teacher and some of his relatives were anxious that he -should try his fortunes there. He had himself a strong -bent to the medical profession. Whatever line he had -taken in life he would have been successful. A well-known -revivalist preacher, also a professional man, is -understood to have counselled him to go in for a business -life. One who knew him well has remarked to me, -since his death, that his true pre-eminence would have -been shown in a scientific career. But his life, and -especially its closing years, made it plain that his own -choice was wise.</p> - -<p>A new era opened for him when he went as a -theological student to the New College, Edinburgh. -The Free Church possesses a theological seminary in -Aberdeen which assuredly did not lack for able Professors, -but the number of students is small, and -the more ambitious men usually go to Edinburgh. In -Edinburgh the Free Church College (known as New -College) had for its first Principal Dr. Chalmers, and -in succession Dr. Cunningham and Dr. Candlish, the -three greatest of the Disruption worthies. It had also -some notable men among its Professors. When Elmslie -went up Candlish was at the head. His appearances -were only occasional, as he was also minister of Free -St. George's, Edinburgh. But although his contribution -to the vitality of the New College was necessarily -small, it was real. Mr. Gray writes: "He gave no -lectures, his work being confined to the examining and -criticising of the students' discourses. There was -always a considerable interest in these criticisms, and a -good turn out to hear them. They were usually strongly -put, both in the direction of censure and of praise; -but any one who knew the Doctor's methods, and made -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">{13}</a></span> -allowance for vigour of phrase, could depend on a true -and perceptive estimate of the merits or demerits of -a sermon. Sometimes he could be savage enough. -Fancy a man tomahawked with the following, delivered -with the well-known burr, flash of eye, and protrusion -of underlip: 'All I have got to say about this discourse -is' (raising his voice) 'that one half should be struck -out, and' (lowering it again) 'it doesn't matter which -half.' This may have compared with another historic -criticism, attributed to Dr. Cunningham when addressing -the author of a certain Latin thesis: 'Of this -discourse I have only to say two things—the writer -has murdered the Latin tongue, and perverted the -glorious Gospel of Christ.' But Candlish was one -of the kindest of men. How well I remember the -little figure, with the gold spectacles flashing beneath -the big hat; the loosely fitting coat; the wide trousers, -lapping two or three inches above the shoes, which -were usually set off by a foot of loose lace; the gruff -greeting, which usually changed into a warm, hearty -smile if he were accosted."</p> - -<p>Among the Professors, Elmslie evidently appreciated -Dr. Davidson and Dr. Rainy, while conscious of receiving -benefit from others. The longest personal sketch -he ever wrote was an article on Professor Davidson in -the <i>Expositor</i> (January, 1888). In this he says, "His -singular and significant influence does not consist in -what he does, but in what he is. It is not the quantity -or the contents, but the quality and kind of the thinking. -It is not even the thought, so much as the mind that -secretes it. It is not its clearness nor its profundity, -not its reserve nor its passion, not its scepticism nor -its superiority of spiritual faith; but it is the combination -of all these, and the strange, subtle, and fascinating -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">{14}</a></span> -outcome of them. The central and sovereign spring -of Dr. Davidson's unique influence in the literature, -scholarship, and ministry of the Church is his personality.... -If the Church of Christ within our borders -should pass through the present trial of faith without -panic, without reactionary antagonism to truth, and -without loss of spiritual power, a very large part of the -credit will belong to the quiet but commanding influence -of the Hebrew chair in that college which rises so -picturesquely on the ancient site of Mary of Guise's -palace in Edinburgh." Of Dr. Rainy he has nowhere -written at length, but he was wont to speak of his -"smouldering passion," and the great ideas with which -he inspired the receptive among his students. Dr. -Elmslie, though resolute and even daring on occasion, -was a warm admirer of statesmanship, and Dr. Rainy's -skilful piloting of the Free Church through many -troubles he would often praise, emphasizing strongly, -at the same time, his belief in the Principal's perfect -honesty and singleness of purpose.</p> - -<p>There are many kind allusions in his letters to Dr. -Blaikie, to whom he was specially grateful for having -introduced him to practical mission work. In this he -was always intensely interested, maintaining that on -this ground the true battle of Christ must be fought.</p> - -<p>"Blaikie gave us a capital lecture, its only fault being -that there was too much matter, so that we could not -get down even a mere abstract of the substance."</p> - -<div class="ltr"> - -<div class="top"> -<div class="right1"><span class="smc">"Edinburgh</span>, 1868.</div> -</div> - - <p>"Things are still going on capitally. At the hall Davidson is most - admirable, and Blaikie every day coming out even better and better. For - instance, speaking of the fondness the early apologists displayed - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">{15}</a></span> - at pointing not to the lives, but to the deaths of Christians, he - added, 'And indeed, gentlemen, I cannot help saying that in the course - of my experience as a minister I have always noticed the hush and - breathless attention such a subject ever commands, and I have found - nothing make a deeper impression, or act more powerfully as a means of - producing good, than a description of a triumphant death-bed.' This is - practical, true, and useful."</p> - -</div> - -<p>Elmslie threw himself with intense energy into the -work of his classes. At first he found it difficult to -maintain the place he had achieved at Aberdeen, for -he had able competitors, but his unweariable diligence -and quick apprehension soon put him at the head.</p> - -<p>In one of his earliest letters from Edinburgh he -writes, "On Wednesday evening I did first copy of -my essay with a headache coming on, which came on -with such heartiness that I went to bed, and I could -not go to college on Thursday. (N.B. It is remarkable -that when I have no mamma to nurse me my headaches -never come to such extremes as they do when I have -a fall-back. This one was bad enough, but not one -of the desperate kind.)"</p> - -<p>There was only one cure for these headaches, and -he could never bring himself to take it. It would be -tedious to go over the story of his successes. By this -time his younger brother, Leslie, had entered the -University of Edinburgh, where his triumphs were -scarcely less than those of his senior at the New -College. So used did the household at Insch become -to telegrams announcing new prizes and scholarships, -that at certain periods of the year the faithful mother -had telegrams of congratulation already filled up, -waiting to be despatched.</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">{16}</a></div> - -<p>Many students of theology are more impressed by -the preaching they hear than by their Professors, -and Edinburgh has always been known for pulpit -eloquence. But it was the reverse with Elmslie. No -preacher seems to have had any great power over him. -He attended the Free High Church, then ministered -to by Mr. William Arnot; but though he admitted the -freshness and fertility of the preacher's mind, he was -not a warm admirer of his sermons. He often listened -to Dr. Charles J. Brown, in the Free New North, and -liked him: "he seems such a fine-hearted man." One -day he went to hear a fellow-student, and missed the -way to the church. He turned aside into the Barclay -Church, where Mr. (now Dr.) Wilson was preaching. -"I like Mr. Wilson very much. He is thoroughly -practical, both in his preaching and in his prayers. -For instance, in the one after the chapter he prayed -for boys and girls at school, that they might be helped -with their lessons when they were difficult, and that -they might learn obedience and courtesy and be made -blessings to their teachers; also for those persons -who had not had a good training in their youth, and -felt it now in showing a good example to the children, -and especially for those parents and children who were -troubled with bad tempers." After remarking on the -great predominance of young people in the congregation, -he says that the sermon was delivered with -a great deal of energy and action, and that the idea of -the preacher seemed to be to bring religion down on -the every-day life, that it might become the motive -power in work. "On coming out I accosted an intelligent-looking -man, and said, 'Was that Mr. Wilson?' -'Yes,' he said, and added, with a proud smile, 'And -didn't you like him?' I answered, 'Very much indeed,' -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">{17}</a></span> -whereupon he looked exceedingly gratified and -prouder than ever. I wish there were more such -pride."</p> - -<p>On another occasion he writes, "At present I had -sooner hear Dr. Candlish than any one. He is so -strong and honest, and wide in his sympathies. His -address to the students was full of passion and feeling, -and sympathy with the difficulty of believing some of -our Calvinistic doctrines, such as eternal ruin, heathens' -doom, etc. He went a very great length indeed, and -ended by saying it was too hard for him, and his heart -drew him the other way, and all he could do was to fall -back on his loyalty to Christ. It was more a picture of -his own heart's struggles than the Principal's address." -But his usual note is, "Heard <span class="nogap">————</span>, in <span class="nogap">————</span> Church: -middling."</p> - -<p>In 1871 he gained the Hamilton Scholarship in a most -brilliant manner, his marks being so extraordinary that -as they came in the secretary of the Senatus thought -there must be some mistake. His fellow-students, he -writes, were overwhelmingly kind in their congratulations, -and he himself seems to have rejoiced in this success -more than in any other of his life. One thing was -that in his after-work he would not have the same amount -of anxiety and despair that weighed him down in his -preparations. But the chief thing was the joy it would -give at home. "I need not tell you," he writes to his -mother, "how <i>sweet</i> your letter was to me, telling me of -your joy on receipt of the telegram. When no letter -came in the morning you cannot think how disappointed -I was, for, to confess the truth, I had been thinking all -Sabbath of the pleasure of reading the home letters, -and in them getting the real joy of the scholarship. -For, except the pleasure of knowing the gladness caused -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">{18}</a></span> -at home, there is not much satisfaction otherwise in -it. It is strange how soon, after the first surprise of -getting it, the delight of getting it passed away, and I -think there was more enjoyment in the working for it -than in the having it."</p> - -<p>This incident may stand as typical of many others, -and of his prominent place among men not a few of -whom were of real mark. His comradeships among -the students filled a large place in his life. Of all his -friends the most intimate and best loved was Mr. Andrew -Harper, now Lecturer on Hebrew in Ormond College, -Melbourne. I regret much that exigencies of time make -it impossible to include, for the present at least, any of -his letters to this brother of his heart. They were -always together, for ever disputing, and never quarrelling, -very close to one another in heart and mind. Two -years before Dr. Elmslie's death Mr. Harper visited this -country. The friends resumed their ancient intercourse, -visited Switzerland in company, and found that -the changes of the years had only drawn them nearer. -Some of the best life in the New College has always been -found in the Theological Society—an association of the -students who gather to discuss controverted questions, -and do not fear to go into them thoroughly. These meetings -were greatly relished by Elmslie. Among the -leading members in his time was Professor Robertson -Smith, whose amazing keenness in debate is often -admiringly mentioned in his letters home. The first -time Elmslie spoke in the Society was in connection -with a discussion whether the Free Church should -return to the Establishment on the abolition of patronage. -He took the negative side, and was complimented -on both sides for the ability and ingenuity of his -speech. The speculative daring in the Society at a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">{19}</a></span> -time when outside the old orthodoxy was hardly -questioned partly amused and partly pleased him. He -speaks of entertaining Dr. Davidson very much by -telling him that the men at the Theological fathered all -their heresies on Dr. Candlish's "Fatherhood of God," -by, as they expressed it, carrying out its principles to -their logical conclusions. The subjects themselves, -however, were the main thing and took abiding possession -of his heart. "I intend," he says, "to still -go on studying these themes of Christ more deeply, -for they have interested me intensely. By the way, I -believe what will be of more value to me than the -scholarship, and also far more satisfactory, is the feeling -I have that in preparing for it I have made an -immense addition to my knowledge in several departments, -and done it so thoroughly that it will never pass -away. Two subjects have so interested me that I mean -to go on studying them—namely, the Person of Christ, -and the Early Apostolic Church."</p> - -<p>On his work and influence at New College the -letters of Professor Drummond and Dr. Stalker will -give a distinct impression, but I cannot leave the -subject without giving room to what was almost before -everything with him—his work among the poor, and -especially among their children. They show the -brilliant and courted student in another light, and it -is worth mentioning that the larger proportion of his -letters home is made up of such stories. His pupils in -the ragged school greatly interested him, and his letters -from Edinburgh are largely filled with picturesque -incidents of his experience among them.</p> - -<p>Edinburgh seemed to him more terrible in its undress -than Aberdeen. "I never saw such miserable -squalid faces, intermingled with roughs and coarse-looking -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">{20}</a></span> -women." There was a humorous side to it, -also, which he does not fail to give account of. One -day in the Sunday-school a little boy behind indulged -in an occasional pull at his coat-tail, or a facetious -poke at his back, to all of which demonstrations he -preserved an appearance of utter unconsciousness. -When the school was over, and they were waiting their -turn to get out, he turned round and said, not with -a very ferocious countenance, "Now, which of you -young rascals was pulling at my tails?" Of course, -this occasioned immense amusement, and one bright-eyed -little fellow said it could not have been so.</p> - -<p>"Oh, well," he said, "it is strange; I wonder if -the forms could have done it." This was a very -tickling idea, and immediately the little fellow said, -"Sir, I gave you a poke." He said, "That is honest, -now, and I suppose some other one took the tails." -"Yes, sir, it was me," said another merry young -monkey, with a comical look. He answered, "I know -you are not good scholars. How do I know that? -Oh, you never heard of good scholars pulling the -teacher's tails!" This was a very striking view of -things to them, and they did not know whether to be -impressed or amused.</p> - -<p>The quickness of the city children, and their readiness -of sympathy, specially struck him. But the main issue -of the work was practical. "I cannot help saying -that I feel that this work will do me real good, and -will give me an actual, and not a mere theoretical -interest in the work I have before me. And that is -a thing very much needed. One other thing I may -mention here. We have been having worship once a -day very regularly, and to me at least it has been very -pleasant and very useful. And now good-night to both."</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">{21}</a></div> - -<p>"I shall be very sorry to leave my poor little bairns, -for I have come to like them exceedingly, especially of -late; they have become so numerous that I have to -put some of them on the floor—nearly fifty last night. -I don't know how it is, but I have a strange sort of -feeling, as if they were having a deeper interest in what -I say than I ever saw before; perhaps it is because I -think I have myself. Since Christmas-time I have told -them every night about Jesus, and only stories that -directly illustrated His love and work, and I feel a -difference in the way they listen; some of them especially -sit so very still and quiet, with such an earnest, -solemn look on their faces. Some nights ago Donald -English (who made the disturbance the first night I -began), as I was beginning, took hold of my hand and -said, 'Oh, tell's about Jesus again, the night!' I often -end by asking them to pray Jesus, before they go to -bed, to make them His little ones; and several times, as -they went out, some of them have put their hand in -mine and whispered, 'I'll ask Him the nicht.' Last -Sabbath, when I was speaking of Jesus having died for -our sakes, they were all sitting so very attentive, but -three little boys in one corner began quarrelling about -a bonnet, and disturbing me by the noise. I stopped -twice and looked at them, but they always began again. -Presently I stopped for the third time, and was going to -speak to them, when one of the boys, who had been -very attentive, rushed at them, and before I could interfere -dragged one of them on to the floor, and commenced -a furious onslaught of blows and abuse for interrupting -me. I had hard work in persuading him to stop. -Another very funny thing was the looks of reproachful -indignation which some of the attentive ones had been -casting at the disturbers, previous to the final outbreak. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">{22}</a></span> -It was terribly annoying at the time, especially as I -saw that many of them were very deeply interested. -When I was ending I spoke of how Jesus deserved to -be loved, and that they should ask to be made to love -Him. One little girlie whispered, 'I will ask Him, for, -oh, I do want to love Him!' and when I said it was -time to go away they cried, 'Oh, dinna' send's away -yet, tell's mair about Jesus;' and then they came -round me, and made me promise to tell them 'bonnie -stories about Jesus' next Sabbath. I have found that -nothing interests them more than what is directly about -Jesus. I could not help telling you all these little -things, but I never had the same sort of <i>feeling</i> in -teaching a class before, and I would like you to <i>remember</i> -sometimes my poor little children down in the -Canongate. I wish I could take them all into a better -atmosphere, for it is sad to think of their chances of -ever becoming good in such an evil, wretched place. -Harper and I have been having many nice talks. I -mean to preach often in the summer—I <i>want</i> to."</p> - -<p>Here he describes an incident of open-air preaching. -A friend was speaking, and Elmslie was managing the -audience.</p> - -<div class="ltr"> - -<div class="top"> -<div class="right1">"<span class="smc">Edinburgh</span>, <i>Jan. 23rd,</i> 1872.</div> -</div> - - <p>"During this the man I had heard swearing at F<span class="nogap">————</span> came up to S<span class="nogap">————</span>, - who was standing a few yards off, and spoke to him. I went up just in - time to hear him say, 'That fellow cannot even talk grammar.' I - replied, 'We don't come here to teach grammar.' He was rather taken - aback, but replied, 'Well, <i>I</i> could have said all your man said - in half the time.' 'Then wait till he is done, and you shall have the - next turn.' 'No, no, I don't want that; if I spoke I should oppose you.' - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">{23}</a></span> - 'I am ready for that; will you do it?' I said; 'We don't come here to - argue.' 'No; you are wise to decline to argue with me.' I answered, - 'Pooh! are you so conceited as to suppose that our arguing would make - any difference to Christianity? Why, it has been argued hundreds of - times over by men a deal wiser than you or me, and you see Christianity - has not gone to the wall.' By that time I saw I was going to win, and - got very cool and at my ease, while he got excited and put out; then he - started on a new tack by saying, 'And what good do you expect to do to - humanity by preaching here, and disturbing us?' I said, 'Well, perhaps, - for one thing, we will get some drunken characters like those' - (pointing to some) 'to give up the drink, and be decent, and keep their - wives and children from starving.' 'Well, that may be, but speaking - like yours will never do it.' I answered, 'No, you are quite right, but - we are young, you see, and some of us have not much voice, and some - have not much sense; but we are just trying to find out who of us can - do the thing, and so, you see, we are just doing as well as we can.' He - looked rather amazed at my frankness, and said, 'Well, I'm sure I have - not any ill-will to you, but I don't believe in religion, and there are - such a lot of hypocrites.' I said, 'Yes, there are a great lot, but - that's just a reason why you should believe in the goodness of - religion.' 'How do you make that out?' 'Why, you never heard of people - making imitation of the stones and stuff like that' (pointing to the - gutter), 'but it is sovereigns and things like that they make - counterfeits of.' 'Ay, but I hate hypocrites, and say, Down with them.' - 'So do I; and if you could down with all the religious hypocrites you - would do more for Christianity than we can by preaching here.' 'Ah!' he - said, 'if that's your opinion - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">{24}</a></span> - you should not take to street preaching; they are all hypocrites.' 'Oh, - nonsense!' I replied. He exclaimed, very bitterly, 'Look at <span class="nogap">————</span>' - (mentioning a recent scandal); 'what good has that man done?' I - answered, 'More than ever you or I have.' 'I would like to hear how.' - he sneered. 'Why, you know, for one thing, he did manage, whether his - preaching was sense or nonsense, to persuade a lot of drunken working - men to give up drink and go to the kirk, and not waste their money in - the public-house; and now you go and ask their wives and bairns whether - R<span class="nogap">————</span> has done any good in the world.' 'Ay, but what do you say to,' - etc.? 'That it was a great sin and shame to him; but that is no reason - for refusing to own that he has done a vast deal of good before he did - that piece of ill; and besides, I doubt if you or I are so good as to - throw stones at him, etc., etc. Now I've listened to your criticisms on - us, and pretty hard some of them were, so you will come up with me now, - and hear what we've got to say.' He said, 'Well, I must say I like your - way of taking things; I never heard them put in the way you have done; - but I have not time now to come up; I have to take tea in half an hour - with a mate.' I said, 'Still, you'll promise to come back next Sunday - and hear us, and I may tell you, in secret, we shall have better - speakers next time, and if you like, after the meeting is over, I'll - have a talk with you. I never did meet one of your side before, but - I've read some of your books. We won't call it a discussion, for I've - not had any experience at arguing, and I suppose you are an old hand.' - He gave a queer laugh, and said, 'Any way I never came across anybody - on your side with half your sharpness and common sense; and besides, I - must say <i>you</i> are honest about it.' And then we shook hands, - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">{25}</a></span> - and he promised to come along next Sunday.... By the way, in my talk - with the Deist my 'heretical' reading came in useful to me; for if I - had not come through all that, I could not have heard his attacks on - religion and kept my coolness, or taken them up the way I did; so it is - <i>some good</i>; it will give me confidence in myself for the - future—<i>another</i> good thing."</p> - -</div> - -<p>Pleasant interludes in his New College life were a -session spent at Aberdeen University, as assistant to -the Professor of Natural Philosophy, Mr. David Thomson, -and two sessions spent at Berlin in the study -of theology. At Aberdeen he had in his class Mr. -Chrystal, now the celebrated Professor of Mathematics -in the University of Edinburgh, whose abilities he -repeatedly refers to in his letters. His work was -enjoyable, and his relations with Professor Thomson -of the most cordial kind. He was tempted in various -ways to alter his life purpose, was offered a professorship -of Natural Philosophy with a large salary in -the Colonies, and was specially tempted to enter the -medical profession. His closest friend at the University, -Mr. James Shepherd, now a medical missionary -of the United Presbyterian Church in India, was -pursuing his professional studies, and with him he -frequently visited hospital patients, finding a double -interest in the work. Thus he writes:—</p> - -<div class="ltr"> - -<div class="top"> -<div class="right1">"<span class="smc">Aberdeen</span>, <i>March 14th,</i> 1870.</div> -</div> - - <p>"As to Medicine, I have read up most of the text-books prescribed - here, so that I am really very well up on the subject, and Jim Shepherd - says I would make a capital doctor. I went along with him to the - 'Dissecting-room,' 'Anatomical Museum,' 'Infirmary,' and 'Incurable - Hospital,' and he did his best to sicken - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">{26}</a></span> - me (as you remember befell me three years ago), but I was all right, so - he says I am now 'hardened'! It was very interesting seeing all the - poor ill folk, and it was a real pleasure to speak to them, and joke - with them, and leave them cheery."</p> - -</div> - -<p>In Germany it is evident even from his meagre -notebooks that he thoroughly enjoyed life, and entered -into it with his usual zest and brightness. But everything -was subordinated to study. He made himself -master of the language, and did his best to profit from -the lectures he attended.</p> - -<p>His good parents were naturally alarmed at the -effects which German practice and thought (more -dreaded then, perhaps, than now) might have upon their -son. He warns them against uncharitableness. "There -is nothing so difficult," he says, "as to convey a true -and fair picture of the religious state of a people. -Just as one's opinion of a person's character is often -wholly changed on coming in contact with him, so -actual life in a country alters one's estimate of it, -and differences of circumstances and training condition -the development of thought." He comes to the conclusion -that it is not a breach of charity to say that the -Germans are in a lower state religiously than Scotland, -but asserts that at the same time there are many good -and spiritual men among them, and that Germany is not -so much more irreligious than, for example, London. He -quotes Dorner as saying of missionary work, "You -send more money, but we send more men." At that -time he was beginning to understand Dorner's lectures, -and says they are very good and very useful, especially -for Germany. "For instance, he has been defending -the doctrine of the Trinity, the personality of the Holy -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">{27}</a></span> -Ghost, the Divinity of Christ, and eternal punishment. -He is very practical and thorough."</p> - -<p>His attachment to Dorner grew as is witnessed by -the following letter:—</p> - -<div class="ltr"> - - <p>"Dorner is a thoroughly good and very able man, and I have found your - remark true, for I have already got a great deal of good from his - lectures on Romans. He is at present lecturing on the 4th chapter, and - since I began to understand him I have enjoyed his lectures very much; - formerly the first few chapters of Romans seemed to me almost - unintelligible, but I now see not only the meaning of the separate - verses, but the grand line of thought and argument running through the - whole, and I have a far clearer conception of many of the grandest - Gospel doctrines than I had before, and especially of the nature of - Christ's sacrifice for sin, and the necessity lying on God to punish - sin. I wish I could send you some extracts from the lectures to show - you how very good they are, but I can only give you one illustration. - On iii. 28—which Luther translates, 'We conclude, then, that a man is - justified by faith <i>alone</i>, without the deeds of the law'—he - remarked that the Romanists misrepresent the meaning of this, and - accuse Luther of Antinomianism, but (he added) Luther's position is - simply this: 'The fruit does <i>not</i> make the tree, but a good tree - cannot be without fruit.' When he was lecturing on iii. 25, where the - question comes up whether Christ was merely the Altar for the - propitiatory sacrifice or Himself the Sacrifice, he quoted Dr. Chalmers - and another Scotch theologian with <i>extreme</i> approval, viz., - Morison—do you know who he is? (Dorner took strongly the view that - Christ was Himself the Sacrifice.) It is a great pleasure to hear him - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">{28}</a></span> - reading the verses of the passage he is to examine, for he does it with - such earnestness and impressiveness that they seem to have double the - meaning that they have ordinarily; he has a great deal of eloquence in - him, and I like him very much."</p> - - <p>"I always read Meyer's Commentary on Romans before going to the class, - so that I am studying Romans very thoroughly, and as the other - Professor I attend is lecturing on Paul's Teaching, and has been - lecturing on his Life, I shall know a good deal more of Paul before I - come back."</p> - - <p>"On Wednesday, the 9th, I bought two Commentaries—De Wette on Psalms, - and Meyer on Romans; they were rolled up in a sheet of paper taken out - of an old book, containing some sixteen pages. I happened to glance at - it in unfolding it, and my attention was caught by these words, in - German, of which the following is a translation: 'Look upon your - children as just so many flowers, which have been lent to you out of - God's garden; the flowers may wither or die, yet thank God that He has - lent them to you for one summer.' I thought at once that I had surely - known the style long ago, and on glancing down the pages I was not at - all surprised to find where the letter broke off—'S. R.— Aberdeen, - March 7th, 1637.' Was it not strange to come in that odd way on a - German translation of Samuel Rutherford's Letters? (See if you can find - the passage.) I also notice, in the bookseller's catalogue, that - Bunyan's works are all translated, also Spurgeon's, 'Schonberg-Cotta - Family,' Mrs. Henry Wood's novels, etc."</p> - -</div> - -<p>In the autumn of 1873 Mr. Elmslie came to London. -Four years previously Dr. Dykes had assumed the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">{29}</a></span> -pastorate of the church at Regent Square. His health -made it necessary for him to receive, from the commencement, -assistance in his work. He was always -anxious to secure the services of young men who might -be trained under him for high achievements in later years. -He heard of Mr. Elmslie's brilliant promise and invited -him to fill the position, then vacant, of assistant to -himself. The invitation was accepted, and Mr. Elmslie -settled in London.</p> - -<p>At Regent Square he flung himself into the work of -the congregation with eager sympathy. He rapidly -became popular and was made welcome in every home. -In Dr. Dykes he found a wise and kind helper, to whom -he became warmly attached. He appreciated his methods -of working and his power as a preacher; but most of -all he was struck by that grace of devotional fervour -which gave Dr. Dykes' prayers so constraining a power -to draw the souls of his people into communion with -God. Nothing could have been brighter and happier -than the life of the young preacher in his new surroundings, -and his contagious enthusiasm and energy reacted -on all who knew him. Here in London, at the busy -centre of so much of the world's activity, his eager, -questioning spirit found material for its restless enquiries; -whilst that knowledge of human nature and its -needs, which lay at the back of his most powerful -spiritual work in later years, was slowly moulded by -the opportunities of this time.</p> - -<p>He describes in a letter to his mother the opening of -his pulpit work at Regent Square. His chief fear was -for his voice: "It looked such a distance," he writes, -"to the faces in the end gallery." He got a friend to -sit at the far end of the church, just over the clock, -with a handkerchief which he was to wave if the speaker -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">{30}</a></span> -were inaudible. The subject of his sermon was, "The -blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from all sin."</p> - -<p>It is curious that the only despondent note that sounds -through his correspondence at this time is the lamentation -that he is unfitted for the pulpit. Repeatedly he -expresses the fear that he will never make a preacher. -He feels stiff and ill at ease. Official trappings of any -kind he always disliked; and the pulpit robes, which he -afterwards, as far as possible, discarded, he even then, -as he told Dr. Dykes, detested. "I find it," he writes, -"most hopeless to get anything I much care to say, and -even then it is a perplexity generally to see what really -is the reason. I am at the very point of giving over -preaching altogether." Again, "I am more sure than -ever that I am not a preacher," "Romps with Mr. -Turnbull's children's singing-class are, on the whole, -the most satisfactory occupation I know of."</p> - -<p>These doubts and discouragements are not surprising. -From the very first Dr. Elmslie conceived of the -Christian Faith in a deep, comprehensive way, and its -ideals of purity and holiness touched and warmed his -nature at many points. Just because the outline was -so large the filling-in took years to accomplish. It was -only by continuous and patient self-analysis, by long -observation and study of his fellow-men, that he was -able to meet the needs of humanity, at all points, with -a message which no one interpreted more largely. His -sermons at Regent Square are sketches and outlines -which experience alone could embody and complete. I -have been much struck, in preparing a selection of his -sermons for the press, with the growth of their composition. -The sermon, for example, which stands first in -this volume is, I think, the earliest he ever wrote. But -the sermon, as it was last preached and is now printed, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">{31}</a></span> -is not the sermon as he wrote it. The latter, though in -outline identical, has been emptied of its original contents -and re-filled out of the abundance of a heart which -had grown in deeper knowledge of human needs and -the approaches of Divine compassion.</p> - -<p>His greatest satisfaction he found in his intercourse -with the young men in the congregation.</p> - -<p>"At the Young Men's Society," he writes, "I have -been chairman for some time, and have to sum up: it -costs me no preparation, and yet how they listen, and -how I feel I can sway them as I please! I enjoy <i>that</i> -kind of speaking."</p> - -<p>It was at the close of these weekly discussions that -Mr. Elmslie and I used often to meet. Our homeward -paths were not identical, but we used to imagine that -we were alternately escorting one another home as we -spent a measurable portion of many a night upon the -pavement, heedless of the thinning traffic, in keen -debate over some of those deep insoluble problems -which, I am glad to think, trouble his eager heart no -longer. "I have long believed," he writes, "<i>thinking</i> -to be more unhealthy than fever, cholera, bad drains, -etc. I would give a good deal to be only an animal -now and then."</p> - -<p>Almost the first hopeful word about his preaching -in Regent Square occurs in the following passage; it -is interesting otherwise:—</p> - -<div class="ltr"> - - <p>"On Monday evening I was at Mr. Bell's. He pressed me to stay; thought - I should not be a Professor; meant for a preacher; would have great - power; something quite peculiar about my sermons; made Christ and - everything so real, and near, and helpful; and my prayers always did - him good, etc., etc.</p> - - <div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">{32}</a></div> - - <p>"Curious, <i>that</i> in my sermons tells with everybody, for it comes from my - line of reading and thinking at college, especially from the <i>German - books on Christ, such as Strauss</i>; they made me trust Him as a - Person rather than a doctrine; besides, I know I have come to regard - Him all round differently in consequence. I have had to pay dearly for - the reading, and have often wished I had not, so it is a little comfort - to find that my coming through it makes me more helpful now."</p> - -</div> - -<p>The following is worth quoting as an instance of his -ready resource:—</p> - -<div class="ltr"> - -<div class="top"> -<div class="right1">"48, <span class="smc">Regent Square</span>, <i>Tuesday</i>.</div> -</div> - - <p>"<span class="smc">My Dear Folks</span>,—On Saturday morning a shabby man called, said - he was a cousin of Dykes, needing money too, etc., just come from - America—awkward Dykes on Continent. I saw he was an impostor, so - resolved to get rid of him. I answered, 'It <i>is</i> awkward.' Then he - said, 'What is to become of me? I look to you, sir.' 'Nothing will come - of that, I fear.' 'But are you not Dr. Dykes's assistant?' 'Yes, I - assist <i>him</i>, but not his relatives.' 'Well, but, sir, what would - you advise me to do?' 'To say "Good morning," and not lose more of your - time here.' As he got up he rubbed his stomach and said, 'I have had no - breakfast to-day.' 'Very hard that mine is over, and my landlady does - not like to have to make a second; do you often go without food?' 'Many - and many a time, sir.' 'Ah, the doctor says it is good for the health! - I wish I looked as well-fed as you do, going without breakfast. It must - be economical. Good morning.' And we parted with mutual grins."</p> - -</div> - -<p>Among the congregation at Regent Square Mr. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">{33}</a></span> -Elmslie formed many friendships. He conceived a -warm regard for Professor Burdon-Sanderson (now of -Oxford) and his wife; and other names might be mentioned -of those who became lifelong friends. Among -men who have since become well known, he saw something -of Professor G. J. Romanes, who was then an occasional -visitor at Regent Square. About this time he -describes a meeting with Macdonell of the <i>Times</i>, whom -he speaks of as "full of light." On the same occasion -he met Dr. Marcus Dods for, I think, the first time. -"<i>Dods, I like very much</i>," is his brief comment.</p> - -<p class="gap-above">Two years after his first arrival in London Mr. -Elmslie settled in Willesden as minister of the Presbyterian -Congregation there. When he left Scotland in -1873 he had formed no resolve to sever his ecclesiastical -connection with that country. Circumstances and -inclination, however, kept him in the south. He was -much impressed with the type of congregation which -represented English Presbyterianism at Regent Square. -For many members of the session he had a warm -respect and friendly admiration. He was interested in -the experimental position of a Church, such as the -Presbyterian one in England, comparatively young and -small. The appeal that came to him from Willesden -was direct and urgent. It is not to be wondered at -that he yielded, at first rather reluctantly, to its pleading. -The next eight years of his life were spent in -active ministry in this little metropolitan suburb.</p> - -<p>When Mr. Elmslie came to Willesden the place was -much less populous than it has since become. The -streets were only partially lighted. The road from -the Junction Station to the little village of Harlesden, -which is now a continuous row of shops and houses, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">{34}</a></span> -passed then between ragged hedges, under a canopy -of elms. The Presbyterian Church was not built, -but services were held in a hall, which was the first -building the Scotch residents put up. Mr. Elmslie -took rooms near the site of the prospective church, -but shortly after moved to the little house in Manor -Villas which belonged to the chapel-keeper and his -wife—Mr. and Mrs. Oxlade—a worthy couple, who -returned the respect with which he regarded them by -a loving admiration for the best man, as they phrased -it, whom they ever knew.</p> - -<p>On November 23rd, 1875, Mr. Elmslie was duly -ordained. His dear mother was present at the service, -and many friends. I had been with him during the -earlier part of the day. Among other subjects of -conversation we had been anticipating an episcopal -discussion on the ethics of betting. He recognized -the difficulty of the subject, and as he got more hopelessly -perplexed in his effort to justify an absolute -prohibition of the practice on grounds which could -be intellectually defended, he turned, I remember, to -his mother with a look of comical helplessness: "Here -am I going to be ordained, and I don't even know why -it's wrong to bet."</p> - -<p>The congregation under his watchful care grew and -prospered. A more united body of people never kept -together in corporate life, and this happy result was -due in chief measure to the unwearied tact and resource -of the young minister.</p> - -<p>In the spring of the following year the new church -was completed and opened for public worship. Mr. -Elmslie seemed to be able to draw into it men of all -shades of religious opinion, and some even whose -family traditions were at variance with evangelical -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">{35}</a></span> -orthodoxy. One of the distinguished sons of a famous -Unitarian household was a fellow-worshipper with -Ned Wright the evangelist. Throughout the whole -of the little community which he ruled, for young and -old alike, there was life, energy, and kindly charity. -He felt that the path of Christian living was not to be -trodden without ardent effort; and his example was at -once a stimulus to the strong and an encouragement -to the weak. "Your prayers," said a lady to him at -this time, "always make me feel that it is a terribly -difficult thing to be a Christian—but you can't think -what a lot of good they do me."</p> - -<p>The year after (1877) Mr. Elmslie commenced mission -work. The London and North Western Railway -Company had just built an Institute for their employés -who are housed in large numbers in what is known as -the Railway Village, at Willesden Junction. Above the -recreation rooms in the new building was a large hall, -which was placed at the disposal of Mr. Elmslie, by -the directors, for Sunday services. He willingly took -advantage of this kindness to gain a further hold on -men whose hearts, in many cases, he had already -reached. An engine-driver, who had been long ill, -remarked to a friend about him: "He comes here, has -a long chat, and tells me about many things; but never -lets me feel he knows more than I do." The services -then commenced are still continued under the oversight -of Mr. Elmslie's successor.</p> - -<p>Four years later another mission was started from -Willesden which has since grown into an independent -charge. The district of College Park came into being -beneath Mr. Elmslie's eyes, and its spiritual needs -attracted his attention. He applied to the London -School Board for use of a schoolroom in which to hold -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">{36}</a></span> -Sunday services. The application having failed he -bought, in the following year, along with his office-bearers, -the site for a hall and church. The hall was -at once built, and by the kindness of Mr. Andrew -Wark, and other friends to whom Mr. Elmslie made -a personal appeal, the money to meet the cost was -subscribed. The church has been more recently completed.</p> - -<p>One noticeable feature in his work at Willesden was -his power to attract the young. I remember his saying -on one occasion, half jestingly, that he liked to make -children happy, as he knew how miserable they would -be when they grew up. He meant that the strain of -living was bound to tell, and that children should have -all the happiness which can be enjoyed in the elasticity -of youth. I do not know which were more attractive -to the young people of Willesden—his children's sermons, -or the sweets which he used to produce from mysterious -stores when they came to visit him. Both were -excellent and both did good.</p> - -<p class="gap-above">The following contains an interesting account of his pastoral work, and -is worth quoting at length:—</p> - -<div class="ltr"> - - <p>"Though it is late, and the text for Sunday (Communion) has not been - fixed yet, I am going to tell you a very sad story, that has made me - think of many things. Over a year ago Mrs. X<span class="nogap">————</span>, on my recommendation, - engaged as governess a Miss Y<span class="nogap">————</span>, a great friend of Mrs. Z<span class="nogap">————</span>, who - asked that she might be very kindly treated, because she had had a deal - to bear, and was all but disgusted with religion. She was a bright - young girl, very pretty and graceful, clever in talk and repartee. - Often I wished to find a way of showing her some kindness, but - naturally that was hardly possible. However, - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">{37}</a></span> - I knew that both Mr. and Mrs. G<span class="nogap">————</span> were good to her. She was to have - left last Saturday, but took suddenly unwell—had to go to bed. On the - same day I called in at Mrs. G<span class="nogap">————</span>'s on my way to say good-bye to Miss - Y<span class="nogap">————</span>; learning of her attack, I did not go on.... Mrs. G<span class="nogap">————</span> had given - her some eau-de-Cologne, and she had liked it much, so I took with me - my little spray bottle. Her mother was with her; she looked wretchedly - ill in face, eyes, and hands, but spoke in a very firm voice, and that - made me think there was certainly no immediate danger.</p> - -<p>"I at once told her about the spray bottle, and making her shut her - eyes, applied it on her temples. She said it was delicious, and took it - in her hands.</p> - -<p>"I cannot try to describe her talk, for it was broken by moments of - wandering, when she said very odd things, and in the midst she grew - sick, and I had to go outside; she was too ill then to say much. I - deemed it kind not to remain, but had a short, simple prayer. She said, - very earnestly, 'Thank you so much for that!' I told her I would come - again, and she must not fear to say to me all she wished. She answered, - 'Yes, come again.' Thursday was a very busy day, for I had many - engagements in London. Though I tried hard, I could not get home early, - but it would have made no difference. She had been delirious night and - day, with occasional intervals, and died at a quarter to three in the - afternoon. She was only twenty-three.</p> - -<p>"... J<span class="nogap">————</span> G<span class="nogap">————</span> went up and held her hands. She struggled for a moment - or two, and then let her head down, and while he spoke to her, quieting - her, she said she was going to be good and sleep now. Her wild eyes - shut at last, and she was in a sleep, such as she had not had since - Saturday.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">{38}</a></span> - "The mother and Mrs. G<span class="nogap">————</span> stole out, leaving only a sister, thinking - it was recovery; but it was death. In ten minutes, with a little sigh, - she ceased to breathe. Mr. G<span class="nogap">————</span> was her great friend, and she died in - his arms. You can hardly think how sad her death has made me. So many - forlorn things are about it that I have no time to write. Those lonely - nights of agony and death-like sickness, that she had said nothing - about at the time, believing herself dying, a governess among - strangers, etc.</p> - -<p>"Two things I am glad of—that Mrs. G<span class="nogap">————</span> was with her one night, and - that I thought of the spray bottle. She said to me, '<i>You</i> had - Mrs. G<span class="nogap">————</span> to nurse <i>you</i>; is not she an <i>angel</i>?' and I - said, 'Yes, as much as if she had wings,' and I meant it.</p> - -<p>"Then her sisters told me that all that last night and day, till close - on the end, my little bottle was never out of her hand; the coolness of - the air and the softness of the spray relieved her sickness so much. - Once, when in a spasm she jerked the bottle on the floor, she cried, - for fear it was broken. The mother has sent a message asking if she may - keep it, since it was the last thing in her child's hand, and the last - that gave her any pleasure. It seems, too, that she spoke more than - once of my prayer for her. Before the mother left last night to go - home, she said to Mrs. G<span class="nogap">————</span>, 'I shall always love you and your husband - for what you have done for my child. Your kindness to her and the - preaching she heard in your church did her so much good. She came to - you with her life embittered, and with her religious beliefs nearly - gone. Only a month ago she told me they had all come back again, and - she understood Christ better, and believed in Him more, because of the - way Mr. Elmslie preached of him, and we all have seen that this - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">{39}</a></span> - last year at Willesden has been the happiest in all her life. If she - had been taken a year ago our recollections would have been very, very - sad; now it is different,' and then the poor lady burst out crying. - To-day I tried hard to get some white roses to lay on her ere the body - is taken home, but I could only get some smaller white flowers, and - maiden-hair ferns. Mrs. G<span class="nogap">————</span> had also got a basket of flowers, and I - think the sight of them will comfort the old folks at home a little, as - also a letter I have sent the poor mammy, saying some kind things about - her lassie.</p> - -<p>"Many other touching things the poor girl said and did come to my mind, - and I could tell you more, but there is not time. I called it a sad - story, but in some ways it is not sad. Indeed, I almost think that it - is death alone that makes life at all sacred.</p> - -<p>"All these things have made me think that Christ's account of the - judgment must be quite real. I mean the 'Inasmuch as ye did it to one - of these,' etc., for that is just how we would feel, that is just how - the poor mother of the dead girl felt. There is nothing to thank God - for more than to have been able to do a kindness to a dying soul. To - think that a poor troubled soul has gone out of the pain and tiredness - of life straight into the arms of God from yours, with the touch of - pitying hands fresh on it; to feel God sees that, and knows those hands - were yours, seems to me to bring you and God very near to each other. - If it be true that He loves 'the souls that He hath made,' surely He - must love you for loving them. I do not think it would matter very much - about other things, if you had loved a good deal. If a little child - said, as you were being turned away, 'He made me so happy!' and - another, 'He fed and clothed me;' and another, 'He held me so - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">{40}</a></span> - gently in the agony of death,' even if he were a very sinful man, what - could God do to him who had been good to the 'little ones'? The Apostle - John had thought of it, and said, 'He that dwelleth in love dwelleth in - God,' and Paul must have been in the same mind when he wrote 1 Cor. - xiii."</p> - -</div> - -<p>They were very bright and happy, those Willesden -days with their expanding usefulness; and before Mr. -Elmslie left the district his life had been crowned by -the commencement of that heart-union with another -which seemed to more than double the separate influence -of each for good. He worked unremittingly, -and even his holidays were not given to idleness or -rest. When he came to London he knew little of -French, and one of his first holidays was spent in Paris, -where he worked at the language with conscientious -thoroughness, and obtained an adequate mastery over -its difficulties. He returned to Paris on another occasion -for further study, and one late summer he spent in -Rome studying Italian.</p> - -<p>His second visit to Paris was very helpful to him -in more ways than one, especially in the influence -exercised upon him by Bersier.</p> - -<p>"I find that the £30 I spent on going to Paris is -going to pay me far more than I thought of, not merely -in French, though I rejoice in that daily, but in preaching. -Perhaps you remember me saying that I had got -several hints from the style of Bersier, who spoke, not -read—mainly in letting out, adopting a free, direct style, -variation, etc. Since coming back I have had constantly -to preach very badly prepared; but I knew that -(partly in consequence) I was much more free, bold, -and roused. On Sunday I was very ill-prepared, -nothing written, even order of thoughts not fixed; and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">{41}</a></span> -I did not stick, even, to the line intended; but feeling -this, I let out tremendously in vehemence and language. -I saw how it took, and several spoke. Yesterday two -old folks were on the sermon, and then they said, -'But ever since you came back from Paris you have -been so much improved,' etc., etc. And indeed, I have -heard more of my sermons during the last few weeks -than ever before. So I owe a debt to M. Bersier. -Another item, however, is, I fancy, that Paris made -some things a little more real to me than they were -before."</p> - -<p>During all these years Mr. Elmslie's reading was -wide and various. At the same time it was not difficult -to see that the subject that interested him most was the -study of man, and the books that attracted him were -those that threw light upon the actions and passions of -men. When he returned from Paris for the first time, -for example, the author of whom he was most full was -Rousseau—not Rousseau the philosopher and speculative -thinker—but the Rousseau of the "Confessions"—with -their strange candour and unblushing avowals. -He read little of the works of the great imaginative -masters of English prose or verse. If he did read -a volume of Tennyson or Ruskin, for example, his -criticisms were always brilliant and penetrating; but -he never nourished his spirit upon their loftier utterances, -nor was his style moulded by the melody of -theirs. One exception I should perhaps make. His -study of George Eliot was frequent and appreciative. -One of his students has told us how, shortly before his -own death, he referred to the scene in which Mr. -Tulliver's is described to point a characteristic lesson -in theology and charity. The passage was a favourite -one, from the day when a friend first gave him the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">{42}</a></span> -"Mill on the Floss" to read. I remember another -remark of his about George Eliot which is worth -quoting, but to appreciate its point I must introduce a -word of explanation. I had, just at that time, drawn -up a memorial on a subject in which we were both -interested. Avoiding the conventional "wharfoes" -which "Uncle Remus" has satirized in such documents, -I had worded the appeal with perhaps exaggerated -directness. Each sentence contained a distinct proposition, -and the whole was expressed with something of -that oracular emphasis with which, in those days, -Victor Hugo used, from time to time, to address the -citizens of Paris. After talking of this composition, -and the subject of which it formed part, the conversation -turned on George Eliot. I referred to "Romola"—especially -to the closing scenes in the life of Savonarola, -which, as it has always seemed to me, touch the highest -point that has been reached in analysis of the drama of -spiritual conflict. As I recalled the passage in which -the disciplined imagination of the writer shows us the -great Florentine stripped, one after another, of all those -dazzling evidences of divine favour with which he used -to feed his soul in pride, till there is nothing left to -tell him of the unforsaking love of God save the lowly -witness of his own bowed and penitent heart, the eyes -of my companion grew bright with a large approval. -After a pause he said, "If we find George Eliot is not -in heaven when we get there, I think you and I will -have to draw up a memorial—in the style of Victor -Hugo."</p> - -<p>When one thinks of the versatility of Dr. Elmslie's -mind, and of the keenness of his intelligence, one feels -that he might have won laurels in any domain of intellectual -effort. And yet theology was the one subject -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">{43}</a></span> -on which his heart was set. He conceived of it grandly -and nobly. He believed in it in that deep, derivative -sense in which it is referred to by Carlyle in the opening -to his story of the Puritan revolt, as a knowledge of -God, the Maker, and of His laws. And for him Christ -was the Divine Lawgiver—sole Lord of his conscience -as well as Saviour of his spirit. For me at least, the -facts of Christianity seemed always to grow larger and -more solemn as he pressed their spiritual significance; -its doctrines seemed to grow more real as he pierced -beneath the forms in which they are encased to explore -their ethical contents. God and man, and the -relations between them, were the absorbing subjects -of his study. It was his constant brooding over human -nature as seen in the light of Divine pity, which gave -its largeness to his measurement alike of the deadly -hatefulness of sin and of the atoning charity of Christ. -Sin was for him a thing far more terrible than any -punishment which could possibly await it; and his -sense of its dread, though still expiable, terror gave to -him his Christlike eagerness to watch for the faintest -signs of contrition and amendment. The following -passage in a letter written to his mother some years -earlier contains, it seems to me, the heart and soul of -all his preaching.</p> - -<p>"Am very much touched to hear about the poor -Doctor. No matter what he may have done, with his -disordered brain and troubled home life, I had rather -go into the next world like him than like most of those -who have condemned, though there were even nothing -more than that near the end he tried a little to do right, -and had a pitiful wish in his heart to be at rest, and go -back to his old mother, and live a Christian life. And -if it is really true that there is a heavenly Father who -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">{44}</a></span> -pities sinful men, and a Christ who died to save them, -then I think my mammy, in helping him only but a -little to better thoughts and hopes, did a greater thing -than most deeds men call great. Any way, she has the -satisfaction of having done kindly by an unfortunate -man, and of knowing that it is all well with him—unless, -indeed, Christ was altogether mistaken. It is not the -first time, either, that she has done that sort of thing."</p> - -<p class="gap-above">In 1880 he was appointed tutor of Hebrew in the -Presbyterian College, London, and carried on the work -along with that of his congregation in Willesden. He -made himself very popular with the students, and when -a permanent appointment came to be made in 1883, -he was unanimously elected Professor of Hebrew. He -writes: "It seems that the speeches of Walton, Fraser, -and Watson were just perfect, so earnest and generous, -and loving and hopeful. That put the Synod into a -melting and happy mood. All yesterday I felt very -grave, and almost afraid. I see that a very great thing, -of good or evil, has happened in my life. God grant -that it may be for good."</p> - -<p>Almost immediately after his appointment to the -Professorship, he married Kate, daughter of Mr. -Alexander Ross, formerly Rector of the Grammar -School, Campbeltown. The home which he made -first at Upper Roundwood, Willesden, then at 31, -Blomfield Road, Maida Vale, will ever have the -brightest associations for his friends. He had all the -qualities that fit a man to bless and grace married -life. When his son and only child was born it -seemed as if he were drinking the richest happiness -of life in its fulness. I shrink from quoting words -so sacred and tender as these which I take from a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">{45}</a></span> -letter to his wife, but I cannot otherwise convey the -full truth:—</p> - -<p>"It makes me so glad, dear, every time I think of it, -to know that we chose each other for no base worldly -motives, but out of pure love and esteem for what -(with all faults and defects) was good, and tender, -and true, in one another. It was not for the mean -things that the world and fashion make much of and -worship that we two came together, meaning to go -hand in hand through life with mutual help and kindness. -We knew quite well the world's ways, and we -could feel the pressure of its lower estimates and aims. -But this act at least was done not with shallow hearts -and for mean ends, but in honest friendship out of true -affection, and with a very earnest wish to do only what -was good and right, and to help each other to live a -happy and a noble life." Such a life it was, though -its years were few; and when the news of his death -came, amid all the absorbing and confounding regrets -which filled many minds, the thought was ever uppermost -of the wife and child left desolate in the home -that had been so full of sunshine.</p> - -<p>Dr. Elmslie gave himself unsparingly to the work of -his chair. He declined preaching engagements, and -made zealous preparation for his classes. Apart from -his own high standard of duty, he greatly respected -the opinion of students. He thought Professors could -have no fairer judges. The diligent study of the -Old Testament, with the aid of the best German commentaries, -was of course the main part of his preparatory -work. But he did more with dictionaries -than with commentaries, and made up his mind for -himself. He always kept pace with the progress -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">{46}</a></span> -of research, and followed with deep attention the -absorbing discussions of recent years on the structure -of the Old Testament. As he was himself so chary in -expressing publicly the conclusions he had arrived at -on these subjects, it would not be right for me to say -much. Of this, at least, he was sure, that the worth -and message of the Old Testament were unimpaired by -criticism, and would be so whatever the ultimate conclusion -might be. He was also exceedingly sceptical -as to the finality of the critical verdicts generally -accepted at present: he believed that the analysis would -be carried much farther. But although he diligently -studied these things, and was an accurate and exact -grammarian, he had his own theory of the duties of -a Professor, which cannot be better described than in -his own words, in an anonymous article contributed -to the <i>British Weekly</i> for September 16th, 1887. -There he says—</p> - -<p>"Theological colleges are not in the first instance -shrines of culture or high places of abstract erudition, -but factories of preachers and pastors. They are not -so much fountains of pure scholarship, but are rather to -be classed with schools of medicine and institutes of -technical education. Their function is not to produce -great theologians, but to train efficient ministers—though -they will hardly do that without possessing all that is -essential to do the other. The ideal Professor is not -your dungeon of learning, in whose depths he and his -pupils are buried away from all practical life and usefulness. -Information is good, in large measure indispensable, -but the rarer gift of the heaven-born teacher -is infinitely more. The old institution of the "lecture"—pretentious, -laborious, in every sense exhaustive—must -vanish. What was spun out into an hour of dry-as-dust -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">{47}</a></span> -detail must be struck off in ten minutes of -bright, sharp, suggestive sketching. It is the difference -between the heavy leading article of our newspapers -and the crisp incisiveness of the French press. There -must be much more teaching from text-books, and direct -instruction from the Bible and human life. Dogmatic -must deal less with theories and mouldy controversies, -and more with the actual forces of sin and salvation. -Exegetic cannot be allowed to fool away a whole session -in a wearisome analysis of a few chapters of an epistle -or a prophecy, fumbling and mumbling over verbal -trivialities, blind to the Divine grandeurs that are enshrined -within, while the students are left without even -a bird's-eye view of the contents of the Bible as a whole, -and destitute of any adequate conception of its vital -majesty and meaning. Above all, a new scope and -purpose must be given to the teaching of Practical -Theology. Instead of a few lectures on the doctrine -of the Church, and the ideal construction of a sermon, -and the theoretical discharge of pastoral duty, this ought -to constitute the crowning and chief study in the curriculum. -And it should be in the form, not of teaching, -but of actual training. Montaigne complained of his -physicians that they "knew much of Galen, and little -about me." They manage better in medical education -now. Fancy the souls of tempted and sick men, women, -and children handed over to the unpractised mercies -of our book-taught young ministers. Colleges cannot -quite mend this difficulty; but they might do much. -And still more would be done if each student could be -secured a year of travel abroad, and after that be -required to serve an apprenticeship as curate or evangelist -in connection with our larger congregations."</p> - -<p>Through the kindness of my friend Mr. W. D. Wright, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">{48}</a></span> -B.A., a student in the English Presbyterian -College, I have received some very interesting reminiscences -from his students. Space does not permit me -to give them fully, but they show that Elmslie acted -up to his own conception of a Professor's duties. One -gentleman says—</p> - -<div class="ltr"> - - <p>"In recalling my impressions of Professor Elmslie, nothing strikes me - so forcibly as his unfailing gentleness towards his students. It was - very seldom indeed that any student was inattentive or troublesome in - class, but when anything of the kind did occur Elmslie never spoke a - word to the offender, and but for the pained flush on his face, one - would have thought he had not noticed the occurrence. Again, when a - student had not prepared his Hebrew lesson, and was unable to read it, - Elmslie always appeared more ashamed than the student himself, but - never said a word in blame or warning. Only he was afterwards chary of - asking the same student to read.</p> - - <p>"Elmslie was always ready to answer questions or meet any difficulties - raised by the students, and he was often more eloquent on these - occasions than when engaged in the ordinary routine of the class. He - had rather a dislike for the schoolmaster's work that he was compelled - to do with junior students, and hurried the class on until they were - able to read passages in Hebrew. He did not aim so much at turning out - Hebrew scholars as at making preachers, with a deep interest in Hebrew - literature, and imbued with its spirit. If he could only secure our - interest in a Hebrew author, and enlist our sympathies, he was willing - to excuse any ignorance of ours in regard to grammar or syntax."</p> - -</div> - -<p>Another says—</p> - -<div class="ltr"> - - <p>"Perhaps my most vivid remembrances of Dr. Elmslie - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">{49}</a></span> - collect round his criticisms upon his students' trial discourses. - Always kind, invariably conciliatory, in his criticism, yet he pointed - out very plainly the defects, and indicated what was lacking with - unfailing clearness of judgment. Even in the midst of his rebukes he - would frequently take the bitterness away by some half-playful remark - or reference to his own experiences.... But better than any criticisms - were his own concluding remarks on the text. Compressed, as they had to - be, into a very few minutes, the whole intensity of his nature was seen - in them. We often left the lecture-hall with our brains all astir and - our hearts glowing with the inspiration of his words.</p> - - <p>"I rather think some of his first-year students generally thought him - occasionally heretical in his remarks at the close of his criticism. - The one thing he could not bear was dulness, a uniformity of mediocre - unreproachableness about a sermon. So he loved to give with startling - effect a single side of a truth, and thus to send us away with our - minds in a state of rather anxious activity. Once he half-humorously - gave us the advice to begin our sermons with a truth stated in an - unusual, half-heretical way, if one liked; for there is nothing makes - people listen so attentively as a suspicion of heresy. But these early - doubts of our Professor's soundness soon vanished, and we found him, as - one has said, 'not so much <i>broad</i>, as <i>big</i>.'"</p> - - <p>"He read to us a letter from a young man in much doubt as to whether he - should enter the Wesleyan pulpit or no. His correspondent had read with - relish Dr. Elmslie's article on Genesis. Could the Professor tell him - of any books in which points of Christian faith were dealt with in an - intelligent and convincing way? He, the correspondent, knew of no such - books. Dr. - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">{50}</a></span> - Elmslie asked our opinion. I ventured to suggest that everybody had to - hammer out these points of faith for himself. The Doctor was rather - pleased with this remark, and at once said, 'Oh, yes! indeed he has, - and to live them out too.'"</p> - -</div> - -<p>In his old students who had become ministers he took -an earnest interest, and their letters show sufficiently -how they prized him. "I feel," says one, "that you -have inspired me with a something quite apart from -the detailed work of the class—with spirit and enthusiasm -for preaching."</p> - -<p class="gap-above">He himself was soon drawn back to the pulpit, and -as he preached in the various Nonconformist churches -of the Metropolis it was almost immediately felt that a -new force of the first rank had appeared. He preached -frequently in Brixton Independent Church, then under -the brilliant and devout ministry of James Baldwin -Brown. Mr. Brown's health was very infirm when -Dr. Elmslie began to preach there, and on his death -the congregation looked to the Professor as his natural -successor. Ultimately a cordial invitation was given. -The inducements offered were great, and the position -was among the most influential London Nonconformity -can bestow. That a change of ecclesiastical relations -would have been necessitated by his acceptance would -have been no difficulty to Dr. Elmslie. But he feared -to face the physical strain involved, and preferred to -continue his work as Professor.</p> - -<p>The disappointment felt at his declinature of the -invitation to Brixton Independent Church was very -deep, although the members construed his refusal in -the right way, and understood that no difference of -opinion on ecclesiastical polity and no doubt of their -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">{51}</a></span> -fidelity had anything to do with it. Some of the letters -written to him were very touching. Among these I -may quote the following:—</p> - -<p>"<span class="smc">Dear Sir</span>,—We are, with the exception of my -husband (who is somewhat of an invalid), closely -occupied all the week, sometimes even the strain becoming -excessive. On Sundays, when you come, your -teaching and influence lift us above all our difficulties, -and we start for the next week full of hope, and feeling -nothing too hard to be accomplished. With regard to -my sons, it is an especial boon, because, though they -are thoughtful and good, it has been almost impossible -to get them to attend church during the last two or -three years. They did not meet, perhaps, with a single -service for many weeks into which they could enter -with the slightest interest, so they stayed away. We -have all found our Sundays very wearisome, but on -those you have visited us all is changed. All are -deeply interested, one competing with the other in -bringing forward the ideas that have interested them." -The writer goes on reluctantly to acquiesce in a declinature -which had evidently gone to the heart of the whole -household.</p> - -<p>His sphere as a preacher steadily widened, and he -became, in addition, a most popular platform speaker at -the May meetings in Exeter Hall and elsewhere. There -is no room to recount his triumphs, and no need to do -so. All who heard him bore the same testimony. If -he was preaching in one of the suburbs the trains -towards the time of service brought a company of -admirers from all parts of London. The chapel would -be crowded to the doors. When he stood up in the -pulpit strangers felt surprise. Youthful in appearance, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">{52}</a></span> -unpretending in manner to the last degree, and in the -early part of the service generally nervous and restrained, -it was not till the sermon began that he showed -his full powers. He usually read the first prayer, and -was always glad if he could get some one to help him -with the lessons and the giving out of hymns. But -in preaching all his powers were displayed at their -highest. He did not read his sermons, but his language -was as abundant and felicitous as his thought, and his -audience was always riveted. Alike in manner and -matter he was quite original. He imitated no preacher; -he did not care to listen to sermons, and was rarely much -impressed by them when he did. I doubt if he ever read -a volume of sermons unless it was to review them. His -knowledge of the Bible and his knowledge of life gave -him inexhaustible stores; he had always matter in -advance, and never felt that sterility of mind which so -often afflicts the preacher. He would retell the stories -of the Old Testament, and make them live in the light of -to-day. The reality and firmness with which he grasped -life—the life of toiling, struggling, suffering men and -women—was his chief power. His sympathetic imagination -helped him to divine the feelings of various classes -of the young men in business, for example, with a small -salary, and little prospect of rising, forbidden the hope of -honourable love, and tempted to baseness from without -and within. He had an intense concern for the happiness -of home life, and much of his preaching was an -amplification of the words—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse quote2">"To mak' a happy fireside clime</div> -<div class="verse indent2">To weans and wife;</div> -<div class="verse">That's the true pathos and sublime</div> -<div class="verse indent2">Of human life."</div> -</div> - -</div> -</div> - -<p>Mothers' hearts he would win by praying for the "dear -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">{53}</a></span> -little children asleep in their beds at home." Young -couples he would warn to keep fresh the tenderness -and self-sacrifice of first love. But the sermons which -follow speak for themselves, though nothing can transfer -to the printed page the light and fire of which they were -full as the preacher spoke them.</p> - -<p>Of the helpfulness of his preaching he had from time -to time many testimonies, of which he preserved a few. -These were very welcome to him, far more so than any -appreciation of the intellectual ability or the eloquence -of his sermons. This, from one letter, is a specimen -of many more: "I wandered past my own church in a -heavy weight of business care, knowing that a mortgagee -would this week likely take all I had, and caring little -where I wandered when I went in to hear you, and -was surprised at the text you preached from, and more -so at the helpful words you spoke, which I hope, by -God's grace, will enable me to see—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse quote1">'Behind a frowning providence</div> -<div class="verse indent2">He hides a smiling face.'"</div> -</div> - -</div> -</div> - -<p>He delivered courses of lectures to Sunday-school -teachers under the auspices of the Sunday-school -Union. These were very largely attended and highly -appreciated. He received many letters of encouragement, -among them one from the vicar of a London -church, who wrote that although he could not attend -them all, owing to the exacting nature of his own -work, he listened to those he could be present at with -the deepest attention and the greatest thankfulness. -"That a great scholar should fearlessly approach these -vexed questions, and with his grasp of them be able to -make them popular and understood by the people, and -above all attractive to the people, is to me a great joy. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">{54}</a></span> -You make the Bible a living book, filled with people -met with in workaday life. You show that the social -problems which superficial minds imagine are utterly -new are only old difficulties under new names, and -that the Bible has a definite word to say upon them, -and its 'Thus saith the Lord' is to be listened to still. -I venture to think that this is the great need of this -fevered age of ours, and I heartily thank you."</p> - -<p>An attempt was made in 1888 by the Westminster -Congregational Church, where he had often preached -with great acceptance, to secure him as pastor. This -invitation he was inclined to accept. The condition of -the Theological College was not at the time satisfactory, -and for that and other reasons it seemed not unlikely -that the call would be closed with. To me, as to others -of his friends, it seemed certain that his physical -strength was wholly inadequate to the position, and -I am glad to think of the urgency with which this view -was pressed on him. He was reassured about the -College, and gratefully declined the invitation. In connection -with it he received the following letter, which -reflects so much honour on all concerned that I venture -to include it here:—</p> - -<div class="ltr"> - -<div class="top"> -<div class="right1">"<span class="smc">London</span>, <i>March 8th,</i> 1888.</div> -</div> - - <p>"<span class="smc">To the Rev. Professor Elmslie</span>, M.A., D.D.—We hear with - sympathetic interest that the Westminster Church is calling you to its - pastorate.</p> - - <p>"The traditions of the Westminster Church are good, its ministry has - always been highly spiritual and largely human, and its importance and - influence have been second to none among the churches of our order in - this great Metropolis.</p> - -<p>"We feel special interest in this call from the fact that it will - involve on your part the crossing of the - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">{55}</a></span> - denominational boundary between Presbyterianism and Congregationalism. - Identical though the churches practically are in the foundation of - their theological belief, we appreciate the strain upon early and - sacred association which this may involve, with, however, this - compensation, that, borne in answer to a call for service and - furtherance of the kingdom of Christ, it is a practical and valuable - evidence that the sister denominations are truly wings in the one great - army of God.</p> - -<p>"Should you accept this call to the highly honourable post which the - Westminster Church offers you, we beg to assure you of the cordial - welcome, brotherly sympathy, and, as the occasion may arise, the - friendly co-operation of the ministers of our body.</p> - -<p>"It is unusual for the representatives of other churches to intervene - in cases of this kind, but understanding there may be questions in your - mind as to the feelings with which you would be received into the ranks - of the Congregational ministry, we have thought it right, on the - suggestion of a representative of the Westminster Church, to give you - this assurance.</p> - -<p>"With best wishes for your future welfare and highest prosperity,</p> - -<div class="list"> -<ul> - <li>"Yours fraternally,<br /></li> - <li>"Alexander Hannay,</li> - <li>"Henry Allon,</li> - <li>"J. C. Harrison,</li> - <li>"J. Guinness Rogers,</li> - <li>"Andrew Mearns,</li> - <li>"Samuel Newth,</li> - <li>"Joseph Parker,</li> - <li>"Robert F. Horton,</li> - <li>"John Kennedy,</li> - <li>"John Fredk. Stevenson,</li> - <li>"R. Vaughan Pryce,</li> - <li>"Alfred Cave,</li> - <li>"John Stoughton,</li> - <li>"Henry Robert Reynolds."</li> -</ul> - -</div> - -</div> - -<p>It is unnecessary to refer in detail to the numerous -invitations to Presbyterian pulpits which reached him -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">{56}</a></span> -from time to time. Some of these were from Scotland, -on which he looked back with mingled feelings. He -did not willingly turn his face to the north, or think -of it with much pleasure. "I worked too hard there," -he would say. On the other hand, he writes from -Edinburgh in 1880—"I had a splendid talk, fit to be -printed, with Taylor Innes, Davidson, and Iverach. -I think I might become a great divine with such -stimulating society."</p> - -<p>Elmslie's connection with the Congregationalists not -only greatly heightened his estimate of the loyalty and -piety still abiding in the Nonconformist churches of -England; it also brought him more fully into the current -of modern life. He began to be deeply interested in -politics, which he had previously rather held aloof from, -became a diligent reader of newspapers, and was led to -an absorbing interest in Socialism, on which he delivered -a memorable address in Exeter Hall in connection with -the Pan-Presbyterian Council of 1888. In politics he -was an ardent Liberal and a thoroughgoing Home -Ruler.</p> - -<p class="gap-above">Dr. Elmslie added to his other engagements some -of a literary kind. He became adviser to the firm -of Messrs. Hodder and Stoughton, of 27, Paternoster -Row, and occupied this position for a few years with -great satisfaction on both sides. His work was to -write estimates of any manuscripts Messrs. Hodder and -Stoughton submitted for his consideration, and that he -did it incisively and honestly the following specimen, -selected almost at random, will show:—</p> - -<p>"Energetic, intelligent, earnest discourses on the -lines of the old Evangelical Protestant school, not in any -way original in exposition or fresh in presentation, but -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">{57}</a></span> -quite sensible, vigorous, and good. That they are not -up to date appears in such a reference as this: 'The -excitement caused in this country by the publication of -"Essays and Reviews," and subsequently of Bishop -Colenso's heretical works, is still fresh in our memories,' -etc. Even if thoroughly rubbed up and revised, the -sermons would only sell where writer's name would -carry them, and to some extent to preachers in search -of ready-made discourses."</p> - -<p>He ceased to act in this capacity some time before -his death, but continued to be a constant visitor to -No. 27, where his appearance gave pleasure to every -one in the place. His inaugural lecture on Ernest -Renan was published in the excellent "Present-day -Tracts" of the Religious Tract Society, and was very -well received. He had often heard Renan lecture, and -was thoroughly conversant with his books. To the -<i>Expositor</i> he made some contributions, but in spite of -pressure, delayed publishing extended articles. In -<i>Good Words</i> and the <i>Sunday Magazine</i> some of his -sermons were published from time to time. To the -<i>British Weekly</i> he was a large contributor, mostly of -short anonymous reviews and paragraphs; occasionally -he would write an extended critique or a travel sketch. -But he was making ready for work as an author. A -remark made by Dr. Marcus Dods had sunk into his mind; -it was to the effect that men should study till they were -forty, and then publish the result of their studies. He -had arranged to begin writing and to give up preaching, -and had he lived this purpose would have been carried -out. His schemes were numerous, but the chief was to -write a book which should make the Old Testament -intelligible—its contents and message—to the common -people. He had made a careful study of the Minor -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">{58}</a></span> -Prophets, the result of which will shortly appear in -a popular commentary.</p> - -<p class="gap-above">So his life went on, useful, happy, honoured, and but -too busy. In 1888 he received the degree of Doctor -of Divinity from his Alma Mater. In the same year -he preached the opening sermon at the Nottingham -meeting of the Congregational Union. This high -honour was never before conferred on a Presbyterian -minister. He enjoyed social intercourse, and in recent -years had much of it. He had many pleasant Continental -holidays. But the claims upon him constantly -increased, and alas! his strength did not. He had -the happiness of being under the care of an accomplished -and skilful physician, who was also an intimate -friend—Dr. Montague Murray. I need not speak of -the faithful care that never ceased its vigilance. But -although often warned against overwork, and constantly -paying the penalty in severe headaches, no serious -danger was apprehended. I am anxious to make it -clear that he did not wilfully throw his life away. He -apprehended no danger, and thought he was taking -sufficient precautions. The last summer of his life he -took two Continental holidays. He loved life. His last -years were his best—the brightest and the fullest of -influence. If one had been asked to say who among -his friends had the prospect of the surest happiness and -the greatest influence, he would have named Elmslie -without hesitation. It was in such a noon that his sun -went down.</p> - -<p>He spent September 1889 in the Engadine. Although -he enjoyed the trip he benefited from it less than he -had hoped, and began the work of his classes with a -certain feeling of weariness. He did not, however, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">{59}</a></span> -imagine that anything was seriously wrong, and accepted -many engagements for the winter. He preached with -wonderful eloquence to crowded audiences in St. John's -Wood Presbyterian Church on the Sunday evenings -of October, and had promised to take anniversary -services on Sunday, November 3rd, for the Rev. -John Watson, M.A., of Sefton Park Church, Liverpool. -Although unable to go to College on the previous -Friday, he was anxious not to disappoint his friend, and -accordingly went to Liverpool. His medical adviser -reluctantly allowed him to preach once. He officiated -at the forenoon service, getting help from one of his -students in the service. That afternoon he spent in -bed, and he was too unwell to return to London till -Wednesday. Dr. Murray saw he was seriously ill, and -ordered that all his engagements should be postponed. -On Thursday, however, he lectured at the College, but on -Friday he was prostrated, and remained so till Tuesday, -when unconsciousness set in. He suffered from agonizing -headache. Symptoms of diphtheritic sore throat -set in on Sunday, November 10th. On Tuesday the -medical man in attendance pronounced the disease to -be typhoid fever, and after the evening of that day he -was never conscious. His busy brain worked on. -The faithful friend and physician, who hardly left his -side, says he never heard such intelligent unconscious -talk. If his mind travelled to the scene of his recent -journeys he would give directions in German about -ordering rooms, arranging for dinner and the like, with -perfect clearness. More often he would fancy himself -in his class-room teaching Hebrew, and urging the -students to put heart into their work. Over and over he -spoke to his wife of what had been the master thought -of his life. Lifting his hand he would say with great -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">{60}</a></span> -earnestness, "No man can deny that I always preached -the love of God. That was right. I am glad I did -not puzzle poor sorrowful humanity with abstruse -doctrines, but always tried to win them to Christ by -preaching a God of Love." Once he turned to her with -wistful eyes and said, "Kate, God is Love. All Love. -We will tell every one that, but specially our own boy—at -least you will, for I seem to be so tired these -days, and my one wonder and trouble is, that all these -people (meaning the nurses) try to prevent me from -going home, where we were always so happy." He -was reassured for the moment, when some familiar -object was pointed out, and asked that he should often -be told that he was at home. He was soon to go -home indeed. He recognised his wife on Friday, with -the last signs of consciousness. Shortly after he -became faint, closed his eyes, and never opened them -again on earth. About four o'clock on the morning of -November 16th, 1889, he quietly passed away.</p> - -<p class="gap-above">Scarcely any death could have made a greater rent -than this, and the tokens of sorrow—public and private—were -almost unexampled in the case of one who -held no high office in Church or State, who had not -lived long enough to make his mark in literature, who -had sought no fame or honour, but had been content -with doing his duty as it called him day by day. -The funeral service was conducted in Marylebone -Presbyterian Church (Dr. Donald Fraser's), of which -he was a member. Dr. Fraser and Dr. Allon delivered -addresses, while Dr. Dykes and Dr. Monro Gibson -offered up prayer. The great church was crowded -with a deeply moved audience of two thousand persons, -every one of whom probably represented some word -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">{61}</a></span> -spoken or some service rendered by the kind heart -then cold. He was buried at Liverpool next day by -the side of his mother, his attached friend and colleague -the Rev. Dr. Gibb, being among those present at the -interment. A service was conducted at the Presbyterian -College, where Principal Dykes delivered a deeply -moving address. "You may send us another Hebrew -Professor," said he, "and we shall welcome him, but -you cannot send us another Elmslie."</p> - -<p>Tributes from the Presbyteries of the Church, from -congregations of various denominations to which he -had ministered, from well-known Church leaders, from -old students, and, not least, from unknown men and -women whom he had helped and comforted, poured in. -They were too numerous to be quoted or further referred -to, but the intensity and turmoil of feeling -expressed in them, showed that the sorrow for him was -as deep as its appointed signs were extensive. One -for whom much sympathy was felt, his aged father, -seemed to bear up bravely against the blow. He received -with eager gratitude the abundant testimonies -to the honour and love in which his son was held. But -the grief had gone to his heart, he soon began to -sink, and died a few months later.</p> - -<p class="gap-above">What was said of Henri Perreyve is eminently true -of Elmslie: he was gifted for friendship and for persuasion. -During the last years of his life, the period -when I knew him intimately, he came to what has been -called the grand moral climacteric, and all his nobler -qualities were manifest in their full strength. There -was about him the indefinable charm of atmosphere, -at once stimulating, elevating and composing. He had -an inexplicable personal attraction that drew to it whatever -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">{62}</a></span> -loving-kindness there might be in the surroundings, -as certain crystals absorb moisture from the air -they breathe. In his company speech became of a -sweeter and purer flavour. There was no austerity, -no Pharisaism about him; he delighted in fun and -gave himself a large liberty; but nothing he said -or welcomed marred the moral beauty which he had -reached through long self-discipline.</p> - -<p>No one could know him long without perceiving that -he was full of generous ardour for pure aims. His was -not the coarse ambition for the glittering prizes of life, -nor was his enthusiasm such as would have cooled with -time. In that delicate and watchful consideration for -others, which has been called the most endearing of -human characteristics, he could hardly be surpassed. -He concerned himself with the whole life of his friends, -and especially with their trials and perplexities. Dr. -Elmslie was, indeed, one of the very few men to whom -one might go in an emergency, sure of a welcome more -kindly if possible than would have been accorded in -a time of prosperity. His whole energies were solicitously -given to the task of comforting. If things could -be set right he delighted in applying his singular nimbleness -of mind to the situation. He was adroit in action, -and almost amusingly fertile in schemes and suggestions. -I think it is safe to say that all his friends felt it was -better worth while talking over a difficulty with him -than with any one else. Even in cases of moral failure—perhaps -I should say specially in those cases—he was -eager to do what was possible. He had a profound -and compassionate sense of the frailty of men, their -sore struggles and thick temptations. Wherever he -saw true repentance he would do his utmost to secure -a fresh opportunity for the erring. He thought the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">{63}</a></span> -Christian Church sadly remiss in allowing so many lives -to be ruined by one great fault. Out of an income which, -for a man of his talents, was not great, he gave largely, -secretly, and with the most careful discrimination.</p> - -<p>His spirit in speaking of others, whether friends or -foes was always charitable. But I must guard against -the danger of mistake. He did not indulge in indiscriminate -laudation. His perception of character was very -keen, he was not a hero-worshipper, and he had always -a certain impatience of extravagant and unmeasured -speech. But he had learned the secret of not expecting -from people more than they have to give, and this, -along with the generosity of his nature, helped him to -make large allowance for what seemed unhopeful and -disappointing, and made him eager to do justice and more -than justice to whatever was good. On occasion however, -he would with grave kindness point out the -limitations of a character, and sometimes, though very -rarely, he would be moved to vehemence as he spoke -of modern religious Pharisaism.</p> - -<p>In conversation he was ready alike to listen and to -speak. Nothing gave him greater delight than a long -and animated talk. He loved individuality in whatever -sphere it was manifested, and would often relate with -delight the racy remarks made to him by poor people. -Of decorous commonplace he was rather impatient, -and complained once that a young man of promise, -with whom he had spent a day, had said nothing during -the whole of it but what he ought to have said.</p> - -<p>Dr. Elmslie had abundantly that charity which -"rejoiceth not in iniquity." It gave him real pain to -hear of the mistakes and misfortunes of men. Without -a trace of jealousy, he delighted in any success or happiness -that came to his friends. Of all virtues he most -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">{64}</a></span> -admired magnanimity, and when he was told of generous -actions, his face would glow with pleasure. To the -spirit of malice and revenge he was always and utterly -opposed. Like other public men he was occasionally -attacked; the fancied breadth of his religious views -excited animosity in certain quarters and was at times -the subject of anonymous letters. He would regret -that his critics did not know him better, and might -show pain for the moment, but it was soon past. He -never in any way retaliated.</p> - -<p>Dr. Elmslie had no dæmonic passion for literature. -For books as books he had no love, and this indifference -disturbed some of his associates not a little. When he -had got out of a book what he could he exchanged it -for another. Hence his personal library was small, -consisting mostly of Oriental literature, and some -favourite French and German works. But his reading -was wide, and he knew the best in everything. He was -master of French, German, Italian, and Dutch, and had -a working knowledge of other languages. Of his preferences -in literature he did not often speak; when he did -he would say that to George Eliot and Goethe he owed -much and very much.</p> - -<p>No one could be his friend without perceiving that -he was through and through a Christian. In his later -years his doubts seemed completely conquered. You -saw nothing but the strength he had gained in overcoming -them. He held his faith with a certain large -simplicity, but with absolute conviction. Among all his -attracting qualities the chief was his great hope in God. -He was indeed "very sure of God." Latterly, he could -hardly listen without impatience to gloomy forecasts of -the future. He believed that all was right with the -world; that Christ was busy saving it, and would see of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">{65}</a></span> -the travail of His soul. Men prone to darker thoughts -loved him very much for that. No sickness, no bodily -suffering, ever altered this mood of trust and hope.</p> - -<p>His dogmatic position is not easy to define. Although -liberal in his views he disliked rashness; and avoided -giving offence so far as he could. My impression is, -that he held an attitude of suspense towards many -debated questions. He did not feel the need of making -up his mind. The truths of which he was sure gave -him all the message he needed, and these were independent -of the controversies of the hour. But he kept -an open mind, and was ever ready to add to his working -creed. He could not preach what did not thoroughly -possess his own soul, but never dreamt that he had -reached finality, and I think was increasingly disposed -to respect the doctrines, which, as history proves, have -stirred and commanded men. A thorough Liberal and -Nonconformist, he knew comparatively little of the -Church of England, and was repelled by its exclusive -spirit, but when told of the great qualities of the younger -High Church leaders, he listened with interest and -pleasure. He was happy in being able to think more -kindly and hopefully of men from whom he was divided -in principle. As has been already said, he considered -the spiritual life of Congregationalists very deep and -true; he loved the warm old-fashioned piety he found -among them, and heartily believed in their future. -Of the differences among Nonconformists he made -nothing, was a vehement advocate of union, and strongly -opposed to whatever interrupted cordial relations between -Churches.</p> - -<p>Though never chary in speaking of his religious -experiences he did not obtrude them. A real belief -in immortality he thought could hardly exist without -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">{66}</a></span> -other faiths being right. Such a belief would give life its -true shape and colour. He was very patient of honest -doubts, but had to make himself sure that they were -honest, not the cloak of moral laxness. What he loved -best to speak of was the magnificence of Divine grace—the -love of God commended in Christ's death.</p> - -<p class="gap-above">But it is time to lay down the pen. We may apply -to Dr. Elmslie words, used, I think, about an American -writer: his charm was of the kind that we fail to -reduce to its grounds. It was like that of the sweetness -of a piece of music, or the softness of fine September -weather. In a certain way it was vague, indefinable, -inappreciable; but it is what we must point to, for -nothing he has left behind gives any adequate idea -of his powers. Friendship occupied an immense -space in his life, and all who knew him are conscious -that,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse indent10">Now the candid face is hid,</div> -<div class="verse">The frank, sweet tongue has ceased to move,</div> -</div> - -</div> -</div> - -<p class="nodent">something has gone from them never to be replaced till -that daybreak which shall unite all who belong to one -another. But over the sense of their own loss there -rises and remains the feeling how much God indicates -in this life of which only some small portion is fulfilled. -The world of expectation and love thus suddenly closed -for earth must be open somewhere. There must be -ministries in other spheres for which he was prepared -and summoned. His life must—we know not how—be -complete in Him, Who alone of all who lived fully -achieved His life's programme, Who came down from -Heaven to do His Father's business, and having done it -died.</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">{67}</a></div> - -<h3>I.</h3> - -<div class="ltr"> - -<div class="top"> -<div class="center"><span class="smc">From the Rev. Professor Marcus Dods, D.D.</span></div> -</div> - - <p>"From my first acquaintance with the late Professor Elmslie, I availed - myself of every opportunity of seeing him, for intercourse with him - never failed to be inspiring. Our acquaintance may be said to have - culminated in a five weeks' tramp through the Black Forest and the - Tyrol, in company with Professor Drummond—to myself a - never-to-be-forgotten holiday. Often compelled to sleep in one room, - and always thrown upon one another from sunrise to sundown, we came to - have a tolerably complete insight into one another's character. And for - my own part, I never ceased to marvel at the unfailing good humour and - gaiety with which Elmslie put up with the little inconveniences - incident to such travel, at the brightness he diffused in four - languages, at the sparkling wit with which he seasoned the most - commonplace talk, and at the ease and felicity with which he turned his - mind to the gravest problems of life and of theology, and penetrated to - the very heart of them. His cleverness, his smartness of repartee, his - nimbleness of mind, his universal sympathy and complete intelligence - were each hour a fresh surprise, and were as exhilarating as the - mountain air and the new scenes through which we were passing. I have - often reproached myself with not treasuring the fine sayings with which - he lifted us into a region in which former difficulties were scarcely - discernible and not at all disturbing. But, indeed, one might as well - have tried to bottle the atmosphere for home consumption, for into - everything he said and did he carried a buoyancy and a light all his - own.</p> - -<p>"As a preacher Professor Elmslie was, in many of - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">{68}</a></span> - the highest qualities of a preacher, without a peer. No one, I think, - appreciated more highly than he the opportunity the preacher of Christ - has to apply balm to all the wounds of humanity, and no one exercised - this function with a more intelligent or tender sympathy or with - happier results. No human condition, physical, mental, or spiritual, - seemed beyond his ken, and none but found in him the suitable - treatment. His wealth of knowledge, his unerring spiritual insight, and - his rare felicity of language gave him the ear of cultured and - uncultured, of the believer and the sceptic alike. It has always seemed - doubtful to some of his friends whether such exceptional aptitude for - preaching should have been, even in any degree, sacrificed to - professorial work. Yet he himself delighted in that work, and the very - last time I saw him he was full of enthusiasm for Old Testament - studies, and hopeful of what might be done by himself and his - fellow-labourers in this field.</p> - -<p>"When so energetic an individuality is withdrawn the world suffers an - appreciable loss; and one cannot yet think of the place he filled, or - of the place we all hoped he would yet fill, without a keen shoot of - pain."</p> - -</div> - -<h3>II.</h3> - -<div class="ltr"> - - <p class="center"><span class="smc">From Professor Henry Drummond.</span></p> - - <p>"<span class="smc">Dear Mr. Nicoll</span>,—It is futile to plead want of recollection - as an excuse for what must be a too brief contribution to your little - portrait, for no one who ever knew Elmslie could ever forget him. But - the truth is, I never knew him well. At college he was too much my - senior for me to have presumed to know him, and in after years we - scarcely ever met, except on one occasion, for more than a passing - moment.</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">{69}</a></div> - - <p>"I never heard Elmslie preach, or lecture, or do anything public. I - knew him chiefly as a human being. Elmslie off the chair was one of the - most attractive spirits who ever graced this planet. It was not so much - his simple character, or the bubbling and irresistible - <i>bonhommie</i>, or even the amazing versatility of his gifts, but a - certain radiance that he carried with him, a certain something that - made you sun yourself in his presence, and open the pores of your soul, - and be happy. I think I can recall no word that he ever spoke, or even - any idea that he ever forged, but the <i>man</i> made an impression on - you indelibly delightful and joyous.</p> - -<p>"My first distinct impression of him was crossing the College - quadrangle with 'Romola' under his arm. He was kind enough to stop and - introduce me to the authoress, whom I forthwith proceeded to cultivate - assiduously. Shortly after this Elmslie gave a supper-party, a function - much too rare among Scotch students. I had the honour to be invited to - represent the juniors—an act of pure mercy, for I then neither knew - Elmslie nor his set. If I were now asked by a senior man at college how - he could best influence his less-advanced colleagues, I should answer, - 'Make him your debtor for life by asking him up to your rooms.' Of the - entertainment itself—the literary entertainment, I mean—I remember - little; it was the being there that helped me. And what I do remember I - do not know that I ought to divulge, for the <i>pièce de - resistance</i> was the Hans Breitman Ballads, which - Elmslie carved and served himself, with extraordinary relish, - throughout most of the evening.</p> - -<p>"It was this same man, unchanged by the weight of years and work, whom - I met several years after in the Black Forest, and accompanied for some - weeks in a - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">{70}</a></span> - walking tour. The third member of the party was Dr. Marcus Dods, and we - tramped with our knapsacks through the Tyrol, the dolomite country, and - the Saltzkammergut. Elmslie at first was full of the Strasburg - professors under whom he had been studying, but after a few days I saw - no more of his wisdom, for he gave himself up like a schoolboy to the - toys of St. Ulrich and the Glockner glaciers. But of this most perfect - of all vacations nothing now remains with me but an impression of - health, sunshine, and gentle friendship.</p> - -<p>"Elmslie's graver side I can only dimly realise from the appearances he - used to make in the Theological Society of the New College, Edinburgh. - I do not remember even the theme of any debate in which he ever took - part, but the figure and voice, and especially the look of the student - as he stood up there amidst the almost awe-stricken hush of his - classmates, lives most vividly in my mind. When Elmslie spoke every one - felt that he at least had something to give, some message of his own. - He never seemed to be merely saying things, <i>i.e.</i> 'making a - speech,' but to be thinking aloud, and that with an intensity and - originality most inspiring and impressive. His voice and tone had that - conviction in them which was as impossible to define as to resist. I - could with difficulty imagine any one moving the previous question - after Elmslie. Another peculiarity, which added greatly to his power, - was that he thought with his whole face. In fact, in listening to him - one did not so much hear a man speaking as see a man thinking. His eyes - on these occasions would become very large and full of light, not of - fire or heat, but of a calm luminosity, expressive of a mingled glow of - reason, conscience, and emotion.</p> - -<p>"One of the last things I read of Elmslie saying was - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">{71}</a></span> - that what people needed most was <i>comfort</i>. Probably he never knew - how much his mission, personally, was to give it. I presume he often - preached it, but I think he must always have <i>been</i> it. For all - who knew him will testify that to be in his presence was to leave care, - and live where skies were blue.</p> - -<div class="foot"> -<div class="right2">"Yours very sincerely,</div> -<div class="right1">"<span class="smc">Henry Drummond</span>.</div> -<div class="left1">"<span class="smc">Brindisi</span>, <i>March 17th, 1890</i>."</div> -</div> - -</div> - -<h3>III.</h3> - -<div class="ltr"> - -<p class="center"><span class="smc">From the Rev. John Smith, M.A.</span></p> - -<div class="top"> -<div class="right2">"<span class="smc">Broughton Place United Presbyterian Church,</span></div> -<div class="right1">"<span class="smc">Edinburgh.</span></div> -</div> - - <p>"It is very difficult, in a few sentences, to convey to another the - impression which gradually grows up from frequent contact with a nature - so sympathetic, clear-sighted, active, and many-sided in its activities - as that of a fellow-student and friend like Elmslie. Acquaintance with - him was mainly confined to two widely sundered periods, both of them - anterior to the last, crowded, brilliant years.</p> - -<p>"It was during the session of 1866-67, at King's College, Aberdeen, - that I first met him. As every one who knew the Aberdeen of that time - is aware, the third year was to most students peculiarly severe. Bain—a - consummate teacher—made distinction in his class appear the blue ribbon - of the college course, for which the best men earnestly contended. - Fuller was merciless in his demands upon his senior mathematical class, - who found, as the months went on, that it was less and less possible to - keep him in sight. And with 'Davy' Thomson there was no trifling,—fear - of his - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">{72}</a></span> - sarcasm greatly helping our thirst for natural philosophy. As the - session advanced the chariots of most of us drave heavily. Elmslie, - however, who studied everything, seemed to do his work with a masterful - ease which impressed us all. He came up smiling to an examination as if - it were a thing of nought. Study could not blanch the fresh bloom on - his cheek, or damp the lively play of spirit which characterized him - then as much as in after years. I have just been looking at his - portrait in our class group, and at his clear bold signature in the - lithographed autographs which accompanied it. To a singular extent his - personal character was formed, and his peculiar excellencies were - developed, at that early date. He was, when little more than a boy, a - man whose words clung to you, whose ways lingered in your memory. Even - then, too, he had something of that sweet hopeful Christian spirit - which was to make his preaching so helpful. One student, whose - opportunities had been few, whose struggle had been painful in the - extreme, used to speak to me with enthusiasm of Elmslie's kindly notice - and assistance. While other natures were but emerging from chaos, - barely conscious to themselves, giving but the faintest indication to - others what they were to be, he whose course was to be so soon run, was - already girt up and disciplined for life's way.</p> - -<p>"After our college course was completed, I did not meet him till 1878, - when already he had been for some time minister in Willesden. On more - than one occasion, I stayed with him for a day or two, and saw with my - own eyes how full and many-sided a life he was living then, even before - fame came. He was carrying on his studies, advising publishers with - regard to learned and bulky MSS., superintending a railway - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">{73}</a></span> - mission, maintaining in briskest activity the work of his congregation, - and in these and many other channels winning 'golden opinions from all - sorts of people.' Especially did I admire his faculty of adapting - himself to English ways of thinking and feeling. And amid this - abounding life, and with the promise of all that came after bright - before him, he was so unaffected and ingenuous and humble, never - shrinking from his future, yet not feverishly anticipating it, that it - was impossible not to love him. Here, too, he showed his skill in - discovering elements of strength in men whom others would dismiss as - incompetent. I remember a missionary who succeeded to the astonishment - of everybody, and I verily believe of himself, under his kindly and - stimulating superintendence. It is one of the pleasant memories of my - life that I carried the motion in Synod which made it possible for him - to be elected as permanent Professor. I remember how the Willesden - flock were between smiles and tears all that day, and how when the - second vote was carried which severed the tie between their minister - and them, they did not know whether to be grieved or glad, so strong - was their love, so eager was their desire for his advancement. No one - could hear him speak that night and doubt his future. All that the - great world has since seen in him, we knew to be there, and more, which - would have been revealed had not death so soon sealed his lips.</p> - -<p>"Of the later years, others will speak. Out of these earlier memories I - have woven—all unskilfully I fear, yet with sincere affection—this - modest wreath for his tomb."</p> - -</div> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">{74}</a></div> - -<h3>IV.</h3> - - <p class="center smc">From the Rev. James Stalker, D.D.</p> - -<div class="ltr"> - -<div class="top"> -<div class="right1">"<span class="smc">6 Clairmont Gardens, Glasgow</span></div> -<div class="right2">"<i>March 24th,</i> 1890.</div> -</div> - - <p>"<span class="smc">Dear Mr. Nicoll</span>,—What a bright time it is to look back to! - There is nothing else in life afterwards quite equal to it. Never again - can one mingle day by day with so many picked men; never is thought so - free; never are there such discoveries and surprises. Those years in - the New College have in the retrospect almost a dazzling brightness, - and Elmslie contributed more, perhaps, than any one else to make them - what they were.</p> - -<p>"I just missed being by his side all the four years, for we entered - together; but after a week or so I left to go abroad with the Barbours, - to whom I was tutor. I have no recollection of him that session, for I - had not gone in for the bursary examination, where any one competing - with him was pretty certain to be made aware of Elmslie to his cost. - Next session, when I returned, I was of course separated from him by a - year, which makes a great difference in college life. But for three - sessions we must have met nearly every day, and I was thrown into the - closest contact with him in the committees and societies where students - of the different years come together.</p> - -<p>"The Theological Society was at that time the centre of the life of the - College. Under Robertson Smith, Lindsay and Black, whose last year was - Elmslie's first, it had entered on a career of the most brilliant - activity, in which, I suppose, it has never faltered since. We used to - say, in our exaggerative way, that we got more good from it than from - all the classes put - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">{75}</a></span> - together. And indeed it would be difficult to over-estimate the gain - to be obtained from debates for which the leading men prepared - carefully, being stimulated by audiences of fifty or a hundred to do - their very utmost. Questions of Biblical Criticism were at that time - the staple of the most important discussions; and then were fought out - in secret the very battles which are now about to be fought out in the - Church under the eyes of the world, with very much the same division of - parties and amid the play of the same passions.</p> - -<p>"It was here that Elmslie first unfolded his marvellous powers as a - speaker. At the University I had been a member of the Dialectic, where - there were one or two fine speakers. One of them was more fluent and - agreeable to listen to than any one I have ever heard since; - another—long ago, alas! gone over to the majority—spoke with a freer - play of mere intellectual force than even Elmslie possessed. But I had - never before, and have never since, heard speaking which, taken all in - all, quite came up to that to which Elmslie treated us Friday after - Friday. The combination of powers was the marvel of it—the knowledge, - the clearness of exposition, the fecundity of ideas, the telling force - with which he put his points, the play of fancy, the exuberant wit and - humour, the tenderness and pathos into which he could glide for a - moment if it invited him; there was no resource which he had not at - perfect command. Yet it was entirely without display; he was always - perfectly natural and familiar. He never won a triumph which humiliated - any one; and, whilst others by expounding the same free views excited - bitter feelings of opposition, he had the gift of saying the most - revolutionary things in such a way - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">{76}</a></span> - that no one was hurt; his weapon, though it cut deep, having the - marvellous property of diffusing an anæsthetic on the wound it made.</p> - -<p>"If it is necessary to throw some shade into a picture so bright, I - should say that in those days his speaking had one defect: while he had - always complete mastery of his subject, he rarely made the impression - that the subject had complete mastery of him. He could play with it so - easily, and he could play so easily with his audience, that, as part of - the audience, you felt that you were not quite sure whether he was - giving you all his mind or only as much of it as he considered good for - you. He had not yet been gripped so tightly by the realities of life as - he was later, when his sense of the wrong and misery of the world - transformed his eloquence into an irresistible stream of passion and - made him the most earnest and whole-hearted of comforters. As yet the - bantering, laughing element was in excess; and he did not always - remember where to draw the line in the <i>abandon</i> of animal - spirits. I used to wonder how it would do when he was settled as the - moderator of a session of 'douce' Scotch elders.</p> - -<p>"But to us at the time it was splendid. It was in one of our sessions - that Dr. Blaikie founded the College dinner, which has since proved so - valuable an institution, bringing all the students together daily in a - social capacity; and any day you could have told where Elmslie was - seated at the table by the explosions of laughter rising in that - quarter all through the meal. Men strove to sit near him, and he - diffused a glow up and down, his budget of stories never getting - exhausted or his flow of spirits flagging. I well remember a speech he - made at the close of the first session during - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">{77}</a></span> - which the dinner existed, to thank Professor Blaikie for his efforts on - behalf of the students and congratulate him on the success of his - experiment. It was, perhaps, the most remarkable of all Elmslie's - speeches. Professors and students alike were simply convulsed with - laughter, and one explosion followed another, till the assembly was - literally dissolved; yet under all the nonsense there was capital - sense, and the duty which he had undertaken could not have been more - gracefully or completely discharged.</p> - -<p>"On the serious side of college life he was equally a leader. His - enormous influence over his fellow-students was uniformly pure and - elevating; and in confidential hours, when conversation went down to - the depths of experience, it was easy to see that his life, which was - so gay and exuberant on the surface, was deeply rooted in loyalty to - Christ. He threw himself heartily into the work of the Missionary - Society in the Cowgate and the High Street. We began one winter to - speak in the open air, but none of us were successful till we brought - down Murray, who afterwards also went to the English Presbyterian - Church and finished his career even sooner than Elmslie. Murray was no - scholar, but in ten minutes he had a crowd round him extending - halfway across the street, while we could never attract more than - forty or fifty. It was a lesson which we often afterwards discussed - with no small astonishment.</p> - -<p>"I remember an incident of the Mission which Elmslie used to tell with - great gusto. He was addressing the Children's Church on the story of - Samson and the lion, when, observing that the children were not - attending, he, instead of saying that the lion roared, emitted as near - an approach to the roar itself as he could command. Instantly there was - breathless attention; and when, - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">{78}</a></span> - after pausing long enough to allow for the full effect, he was about to - proceed, a little girl cried out anxiously, 'O sir, do it again!' On - another occasion he stopped to reprove rather sharply a boy who was - very restless, when a companion, springing up, told him with great - solemnity that he ought not to speak so to this boy, because he was - deaf and dumb. Taken completely aback, Elmslie began humbly to - apologise, when the whole class burst out into a shout of laughter at - the skill with which he had been taken in. The boy could both hear and - speak.</p> - -<p>"After he went south I saw him very seldom. Once he caught me in London - and took me out to preach at Willesden, where I was immensely impressed - with his hold on the people and the extent of the field of influence he - had opened up. Like his other friends, I was very impatient for some - literary production worthy of his genius, and, when the brilliant tract - on Renan appeared, I took the liberty of writing him urgently on the - subject. It was always my hope that before very long we should be able - to entice him back across the Border, to adorn a chair in one of our - colleges. I did not hear of his illness till you wrote me that he was - just dying. 'God moves in a mysterious way.' I have no hesitation in - saying that Elmslie was by far the most brilliant man I have ever - known, and there was never a human being more lovable. He seemed to be - the man we needed most; but it is little we know; the Master must have - had need of him elsewhere.</p> - -<div class="top"> -<div class="right2">"Believe me yours most truly,</div> -<div class="right1">"<span class="smc">James Stalker</span>."</div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">{79}</a></div> - -<p class="gap-above center x-large">SERMONS.</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">{81}</a></div> - -<h2>I.<br /> -<i>CHRIST AT THE DOOR.</i></h2> - -<p class="small">"Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear My voice, -and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and -he with Me."—<span class="smc">Rev.</span> iii. 20.</p> - -<p class="drop-cap">GOD is close to us. Every moment of our life He -is doing countless things in us and around us. -If a man were to do these things we should see him -with our eyes, we could touch him with our hands; we -should not fail to observe his presence. Because we -cannot see God with our bodily eye, or grasp Him -with our hand, we forget His working, we lose sight of -His nearness.</p> - -<p>When you were children, some time or other, I -suppose, in your young lives, you got hold of a flower-seed, -and planted it in a pot of moist earth, and set it -in the sunniest corner of your room. Morning after -morning, when you awoke, you ran to see if the flower -had begun to grow. At last your eagerness was -rewarded by the sight of some tiny leaves which had -sprung up during one night. Then the stalk appeared, -frail and tender, and then more leaves, and buds, and -branchlets, till at length there stood, blooming before -you, a fair and fragrant flower.</p> - -<p>Who made it? Somebody worked to produce that -flower. It could not make itself. The dead earth -could not shape that lovely leaf; the bright sunshine -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">{82}</a></span> -could not paint those tendrils. A deep-thinking man, -when he sees these wonderful things, must ask himself, -Who fashioned them? Not the sunshine nor the air, -but God, if there is a God, willed that that plant should -grow. God toiled to make the plant—in your room, at -your side.</p> - -<p>At this moment, in your breast, your heart is beating. -All your life it has gone on beating. It is not you who -sustain its motion. Even when you forget it, when -you are asleep, its pulsations do not cease. Somebody -works to keep your heart beating. God, who is the -foundation of all life, out of whose loving heart it -streams, and back to whom it must return, has to -remember your heart.</p> - -<p>But God comes still nearer to you. Do you remember -a time in your life when, in your inmost heart, that -hidden, secret chamber where you dream your dreams, -and love your loves, and pour out your sorrows all -alone, you felt a strange influence? It was a vague -unrest, a great self-weariness. It was as if all brightness, -hope, and satisfaction had gone from your life, -and had left behind them, in departing, a sick, wistful -longing to find something new, something brighter, -better, and more noble than you yet had known. It -was as if you could hear voices calling, and your heart -moved within you, as if some new friend might be -there. Do you know what that was? It was God. -It was the great Heart that made your heart, longing -and pleading to have it for His own. "Behold, I stand -at the door, and knock: if any man hear My voice, and -open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with -him, and he with Me." Do you believe that? You, men -and women, who love your Bible, and are angry if any -man seems to speak against it, or throw doubt upon -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">{83}</a></span> -one jot or tittle of its letter, have you ever thought -what that means if it is true? Ay! it stands written -there, and you have read it a hundred times, and think -you believe it; but do you indeed know what it means? -It means that God, the Eternal, Infinite, Almighty God, -who wields these worlds of shining stars, and keeps -them in their mighty courses; that God, the Spotless, -the Holy, the Stainless, cares with a great longing to -have the heart and love of <i>you</i>; you, who are no saint; -you, the most commonplace and lowly, the most insignificant -and sinful of men. Is that easy to believe? -Is it easy to believe that God would miss something if -your heart never went out in tender affection and adoration -towards Him; that He should take pains and -trouble to get Himself into your poor, battered heart—that -heart which is so filled with sordid cares as to how -you may make a living, and the envyings and strivings -which accompany; in which such sinful, base, and -vicious thoughts too often dwell? Is it possible that -the great, holy God wishes to get in there?</p> - -<p>It is not easy to believe it. One of the greatest -religious thinkers who ever lived, by the confession of -believers and unbelievers alike; a man who laboured -so much under the effort to find out God, and became -so absorbed in the quest, that the name of "God-intoxicated" -was applied to him; a man who conceived more -than any one else of the grandeur and transcendency of -God, till he found this poor world of ours and the whole -universe fade into insignificance before the thought of -Him; this man, this great philosopher, Spinoza, said, -"A man should love God with his whole being, but he -must not expect God to love him in return." And -the bible says, "We love Him, because He first loved -us." Which is true?</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">{84}</a></div> - -<p>There are two things, I think, which make it hard to -believe that we can be of consequence to God—that -God holds each one of us in a separate thought of -knowledge, sympathy, and Fatherly affection. One of -them is this: How is it possible for God to do it? -Think of the myriads of men and women on this world -of ours, and the possibility of this universe teeming -with countless creatures of God's creative power and -Fatherly love. How is it possible that God should -know each one of us, and love us each one? God, so -omnipotent, so transcendent, so almighty! But the -very thing that makes the difficulty to our reason -seems to me the very thing that should undo it. If -God were not so great, then I could not have the hope -that I was something to Him <i>by myself</i>.</p> - -<p>Is it not a fact that it is precisely a weak, uncultured, -low, and undeveloped intellect that finds it difficult to -give attention to a great mass of details, holding each -apart, and doing justice to each? Precisely as you -rise in the scale of intellect and mental power, that -capacity increases quite incalculably. It is the great -genius of a general who not merely directs his army as -a mass, but holds it at every point, knows the value of -every unit of force at his command, follows the movement of -each squadron, troop, and even of each single -individual, and precisely by this faculty is able to overthrow -the enemy and lead the army to victory.</p> - -<p>You have listened to a beautiful oratorio, where -scores of instruments and hundreds of voices were all -blended together in one tide of magnificent harmony. -How is it possible for a small intellect to keep them -thus in unison? It requires a master-mind in music -to do this—one that is fully conscious of the value of -each string and voice, and who can therefore combine -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">{85}</a></span> -them all in glorious harmony. And God is almighty; -it is nothing to Him that He is far away from you; -you, a speck of dust upon this world. It is precisely -because I believe in God's omnipotence that I can -believe that He cares for each separate creature He -has made.</p> - -<p>But then there is another question. Even if God -can love each one of us, apart from all the rest, with -an individual, personal, watchful kindness, what right -have we to think that He should care to do it? Once -again, that difficulty need but be faced, and you discover -that it is a delusive spectre and empty of reality.</p> - -<p>Is it likely that God should miss the love of me, His -creature?</p> - -<p>Turn to the early chapters of Genesis, and read the -story they have to tell you. They tell you how through -measureless periods of time, in the fields of infinite -space, the great God built up our world; first the stone -foundations, layer upon layer; above that, the strata of -mineral wealth, to be used hereafter, clothing the surface -of it with a verdant soil. Out of the mineral world he -evolved the nutritive, vegetable world, out of vegetable -life the higher creation of animal life, and out of that -emerges man, standing on the summit of God's great -toil and building, with eyes that see, ears that hear, -and mind that can understand, answering to the call of -God, interpreting all the wisdom, patience, beauty, and -love in that mighty labour of creation, and saying, -"Father, I adore Thee." Do you think that man, then, -His last crowning work of creation, is nothing to God? -What should you say of one who spent years and years, -and sank uncounted capital, upon a great mass of -wonderfully contrived machinery, to produce some -beautiful fabric of beneficence to mankind, and when it -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">{86}</a></span> -was produced turned away and left it all? You would -call such a one a fool, and mad.</p> - -<p>God made this world, and spent toil and industry in -making the heart of man, and keeping it conscious of -Him, capable of loving Him. And do you mean to tell -me that God does not care for human love? It is -impossible. There is no God at all, or the Gospel is -true. He does miss it when your heart does not bend -to Him. The supreme gladness we can give our -Maker is the simple, sincere adoration of our poor -human hearts.</p> - -<p>There is a picture that paints the idea of my text. -It says, to those who look at it, what I could not say -in many paragraphs. A cottage neglected, falling into -ruin, is shown in the picture. In front of the window -tall thistles spring up, and long grass waves on the -pathway, leading to the door overgrown with moss. -In front of that fast-closed door a tall and stately -figure stands, with a face that tells of toil and long, -weary waiting, and with a hand uplifted to knock. It -is Christ, the Son of God, seeking to get into our sinful -hearts. Is it true that there can be a man or woman -who refuses to admit so fair a guest, so great and good -a friend? It must be true. "Behold, I stand at the -door, and knock: if any man hear My voice, and open -the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, -and he with Me."</p> - -<p>But you think you can justify yourself. You say to -me, "I feel it were a mad, foolish thing to refuse to -admit to my own, if it be true, the loving heart of God, -and a thing altogether unjustifiable. You say He -comes and knocks at our hearts—that He calls and asks -us to let Him in. No; many have called at the door -of my heart, but I never knew Christ to call or knock. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">{87}</a></span> -If ever He had, I think I should have let Him in." I -believe you speak the truth, but I am certain that -Christ has been to your heart.</p> - -<p>Let me speak plainly to you. There may be various -reasons why you have failed to detect His presence. -Perchance your life has not been so good as even -common morality would have made it, and now your -heart is a very dreary place, filled with painful memories. -Perhaps you are always outside, gadding about, and do -not like to dwell alone in your heart and think; and so -when Christ knocks and calls He finds empty rooms; -or if even you are there you are not there alone, but you -have filled its chambers with a noisy, revelling company -and din. The call has reached you as a dim, half-heard, -strange sound, which moved you half pleasantly -and half with pain. You turned in your heart and -listened for an instant, but there was something in -the sound too painful, and you plunged back again into -revelry and mirth. You did not know that it was God, -the very heart of God, that had knocked and called.</p> - -<p>Again, your life may have been very respectable, but -very light and frivolous, engrossed in earthly affairs; -and Christ has come, and you did not know it. For -He comes in such simple, human guise. You remember -when He came on earth the poor Jews did not know -Him for more than the carpenter's son. He comes like -that to you and me. He takes a human hand, and -with its fingers knocks, but all you see and recognise is -the human touch. You do not see the heart Divine -that touches you through it with an appealing thrill.</p> - -<p>Thank God, there are so many good mothers in this -world. Thank God for the little children, and the lads -and maidens here, whom a mother's memory follows -like a very angel, often after she herself has gone. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">{88}</a></span> -You remember that Sabbath evening custom when you -and the little ones knelt at your mother's knee, and she -told you the stories of the Bible; and the last one was -always about the gentle Jesus, meek and mild, who -came to the world with such a great heart of love, who -knew no sin at all, who was so good to women and -children and the very worst of broken-hearted sinners, -and whom men with hard hearts and cruel hands took -and crucified; oh, such a death of pain for <i>you</i>! till -you could almost see His face on the cross. And your -mother's voice had got so low and reverent that it felt -as if some one else was in the room, and your young -child's heart grew so soft and loving to that Christ that -died for you. Yes, He was there. Did you take Him -quite inside? Or if you took Him in for a little while -did you let Him go again, when your heart grew -colder? Oh, young men and maidens who had a -mother like that, remember her, and take that Christ -into your hearts!</p> - -<p>Some of you can remember a time when you had -grown many years older, and perhaps had memories -you would not like your mother to know of. And God -struck you down with a great illness, and for a long -time you were at the point of death. But at last the -crisis was past, and you woke out of unconsciousness, -brought back to life again, weak as a little child. All -the din and turmoil of your manhood's life seemed to -have faded in the distance, and once again you became -as a little child. Do you remember how you felt when -you turned that corner between life and death? Somehow, -old memories came back to you—perhaps because -your body was so weak—the memory of old days, of -the father and mother, and the church in the country, -and of all the things that were said and done. And -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">{89}</a></span> -then there came a wish that many things in your later -life had never been done by you; a strange, solemn -sense that there is a God; and into your heart a feeling -of repentance for the past, and a wish to do better in -the future. And you were so tired, and wished for a -friend to speak to you in these words: "Come unto Me, -all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give -you rest." Afterwards you got stronger and said, -"Perhaps it was only weakness." But I tell you it -was the living, loving Christ, seeking to get into your -heart.</p> - -<p>I cannot stop to enumerate the countless knocks and -calls that come to all of us, in those strange aspirations -that come with the secret, tender affections, the dreams -of love and truth. For God's sake, never be ashamed -of them, and be true to the dreams of your youth. Do -not think that Christ is part of a creed only, or belongs -only to church and Sunday. No, Christ is in everything -holy, everything pure, everything loving, and -everything that draws your heart. I would have you -understand that Christ works to get into your heart, -and not into your head. There is plenty of time for -the latter after He has once secured possession of your -heart and life. Into the homeliest chamber of your -heart, too, not into a state apartment, opened only on -occasions of ceremony, He seeks to come, that He -may stay with you and sup with you, and be with -you in your home. There are some people who think -this would be treating Him with very scanty respect, -and so they think they must take a nook of their heart, -like a piece of consecrated ground, and keep Him there, -and only visit it on Sunday. No; Christ wants to -come into your life and mind. Take Him to your -office, and consult Him about your business; your -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">{90}</a></span> -affairs will not be managed with less skill and wisdom, -but perhaps more honourably. Take Him to the fireside, -where you plan your plans and dream your -dreams, and make out a future for your little boys. -He loved little ones on earth, and do you think He has -lost that love in heaven?</p> - -<p>Take Him into your heart to overcome the evil -passions and habits, the things you would be ashamed -to own to the most loving earthly friend, which you are -fighting in God's name and cannot conquer by yourself. -You say, "Tell us how we can do it. He is so very -good, we fain would have Christ in our heart, but it -seems so difficult when our heart is so unworthy." -No, it is so easy—and yet so difficult to describe in -words. The moment you have done it you wonder -that you ever asked how it must be done.</p> - -<p>I can tell you some things like it. You know what -it is for a great grief to come into your heart, the first -great disappointment in love, in friendship or ambition. -You did not see it enter with your eyes, but you knew -it had got in, for it changed everything, throwing a -dark, cold shadow over all your life. Some of you -know what it is for a real, true joy to get into your -heart. Some of you, fathers and mothers, know what -it is for a very true friend to get there. You hardly -know how it happened, but one came right in to the -inmost being of your life, and ere you knew it, you -would be nothing without him—without him loving -you. Love was all joy and happiness, and has stayed -there ever since. It has made you different; you have -learned to love the things he loves, and the love and -knowledge have brought peace.</p> - -<p>It is just like that when you take Christ into your -heart. Go to the Gospels, you who feel the want of a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">{91}</a></span> -friend like that, and read what He said to poor weeping -men and women, till you feel the breath of His love -encircle you, till your heart goes out to Him, and you -will be vexed to grieve Him, and want to please Him; -and you will think as He thinks, and love men as He -loves.</p> - -<p>There are many, many things about the mysteries of -our religion which I do not understand. But this I -say to you, before God: Beyond all this world holds of -pride, splendour, pleasure, and joy, to have taken that -real, living, holy Jesus Christ into your heart, to be -your Saviour, Counsellor, and Friend, your Divine -Lord and Master, means blessedness both here and -hereafter.</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">{92}</a></div> - -<h2>II.<br /> -<i>THE DARK ENIGMA OF DEATH.</i></h2> - -<p class="center small"><span class="smc">St. John</span> xi.</p> - -<p class="drop-cap">This morning I ask your attention to the story -that has been read in the eleventh chapter of the -Gospel of St. John.</p> - -<p>The rulers of the Jews at Jerusalem had resolved on -Christ's death, and the mass of the people sympathised -with them. The Master's life had been threatened by -a popular outburst. His work on earth was not yet -done, and so He withdrew into the country, to escape -from the violence and danger of Jerusalem. He went -away to the Jordan, to the point, not very far from -Jerusalem, where John first began baptizing, and there -He remained in comparative seclusion. But people -knew where He was. Probably people in the surrounding -districts gathered together to hear Him teach; and -possibly, as a very ingenious commentator has suggested, -Christ, reaping the harvest of John's prolonged -teaching in this district, succeeded in winning the faith -of a great many of his hearers; and so He was busy -doing good and happy work, building up His kingdom -on the banks of the Jordan.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, sickness came to the home at Bethany, -where most He felt Himself at home during His -wanderings in this world of ours. Lazarus was -stricken with a very dangerous illness, grew worse and -worse, and at last all hope was gone. Now, I should -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">{93}</a></span> -fancy that from the very first day that it became evident -that their brother was seriously ill, the hearts of Mary -and Martha longed to have Jesus come to them, if it -was only to be with them in their anxiety, and suspense, -and watching. And the heart of the sick man must -have longed for that great Divine Friend of his to be -by his sick bed. Why did they not send for Him at -once? I think there is a very simple reason. They -were not selfish, as we sometimes tend to be in our -sickness or in our sorrow. They thought about others -as well as about themselves. They remembered that -for Jesus to come back to the vicinity of Jerusalem was -to risk His own life, and not even for the safety of their -brother could they bring themselves for a long time to -ask the beloved Master to run such a risk as that, and -so they delayed really till too late. In the extremity -of their grief and despair they sent a messenger to -Jesus—not to ask Him to come: there, again, I read -that that was their meaning—they would not take it on -themselves to ask Him to imperil His life, but they -could not resist just letting Him know that their -brother, whom Jesus so loved, was very sick. It is -exceedingly touching, that simple message, "Lord, -behold, he whom Thou lovest is sick." And they knew -that it would say to Jesus, "Thou knowest how much -we would like Thee to come and recover him, and Thou -knowest, too, the last thing we would ask of Thee -would be, out of favour and kindness to us, to risk that -life on which so much hangs—the kingdom of God -upon earth."</p> - -<p>There was real danger in Christ's return to Jerusalem. -He was conscious of it, for you find that when -He did make His way to Bethany He seems to have -taken care, as far as possible, to conceal the fact from -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">{94}</a></span> -the inhabitants of Jerusalem. He came very quietly. -He did not at first enter into Bethany. He remained -outside the precincts of the village. He sent word -secretly to Martha, so that not even Mary or the other -persons that were with them in the house knew of the -fact. And then, again, He sent Martha back, or Martha -went back, to Mary, and, with somewhat studied concealment, -warned her of the Master's vicinity, so that -when she went out those who were with her fancied -she was going to the grave. I point all that out to you -in order that you may see that it is not a mere imagination -or fancy, but that one of the great elements in -determining the conduct of the family at Bethany, and -the action of Christ, was that real hazard of His life, -which He dared not needlessly risk in perils at this -time, since His time of toil on earth, His daylight of -labour, was not yet over and done.</p> - -<p>When Jesus received the message He behaved in a -seemingly strange fashion. Apparently He just did -nothing, but went on with His teaching and preaching -for two long days. Did He think how often anxious -faces would be at the door of that house in Bethany, -peering along the road that led to the home, looking for -the figure that had so often trodden that way, because -His heart drew Him to that happy family circle? Did -Jesus know that Lazarus was dying? Did Jesus think -that the hearts of Mary and Martha were breaking? -Oh, He had the most loving heart that ever man had -on earth, and yet He delayed two days before He set -out for that home of distress. Now, that fact is often -presented in a somewhat revolting fashion, and I think -it is worth while just to diverge from my main theme -to remove the effect of such presentation if it weighs -with any of you. It is said that Jesus deliberately -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">{95}</a></span> -hung back for two days in order to let Lazarus die. -That is a mistake—a total mistake. Lazarus had been -already buried four days before Christ arrived. Now, -suppose He had lost no time; suppose He had set out -at once, He would only have reached Bethany two days -earlier, and so, you see, Lazarus would have then -already been buried two days. The real fact is just -this, that the message was sent too late, and the sick -man had died; and even if Christ had gone at once, -all the same He would have found him in the grave. -But none the less the story is so told as to shut us up -to this conviction, that it was planned, and purposed, -and accepted in the will of God, and in the will of -Jesus, that Lazarus should be sick, and grow worse -and worse, and should sink and fail, and die and be -buried. Indubitably Jesus, with His knowledge, could, -of His own action, have returned earlier to have intervened -and prevented the sickness ending fatally. -He was absent that Lazarus might die. When He -spoke of the thing He told His disciples, first of all, -the perfect, complete truth. "This," said Jesus, "is -not to end in death's darkness. Its real goal and -termination is to be the glory of God, revealed in the -glory of his Son, the Christ on earth." That is the end -of it; nevertheless, Lazarus must die. God's glory is -to find its consummation, not in rescuing Lazarus from -the grave, but in restoring him from death, and bringing -him back into life. It was part of the material Christ -used in building up His kingdom—the sickness and -the death of Lazarus. He did delay, not in that seeming -revolting, cold-blooded fashion in which it is often -portrayed. He did deliberately hold His hand and -delay; ay, and He held His loving human heart too, -and He let his friend sicken, and suffer pain, and die, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">{96}</a></span> -and He let the hearts of those two women that loved -Him well-nigh break. He did it.</p> - -<p>Can we justify Him? Did the sisters divine truly -when they sent that message, "He whom Thou lovest -is sick"? If He loved him, why did He prolong the -agony? Why did He not intervene? Why did He -not at once cancel death? Why those terrible four -days of mourning, and gloom, and darkness, and doubt? -Now that is precisely the painful position of all of us -in this world of sin, and pain, and sickness, and parting, -and death. We think a good God made our world; -we think a loving Father holds our lives in His hands; -and then we turn and look at this world, we look at -the terrible strifes and struggles, we look at the great -entail of sin that lies on our race, we see the ravages -of disease, and disaster, and violence, and cruelty, and -see everywhere the last black enigma of death and the -grave, and this in spite of all our Christian faith, learnt -from the Bible; ay, learnt from God's Spirit speaking -often in the instincts of our heart and nature—we, too, -are forced to ask the question, "Lord, why art Thou -not here? Why does our brother die? If Thou wert -here Thou couldest save him. Dost Thou love him? -and if Thou lovest, why are we sick? Why do we -die?"</p> - -<p>The inmates of that house at Bethany had received -Jesus with a rare degree of sympathetic feeling and -heartfelt welcome. They entered into the meaning of -His teaching and preaching with a degree of fellowship -and quick response that moved His heart and soul even -beyond the best of His disciples. One of them at least—Mary, -and almost certainly Lazarus too—had come -very near to that Divine Lord, in full understanding of -all His grandeur, His sinlessness, His mighty love -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">{97}</a></span> -Though yet all ignorant of a great deal about His -person, and about the fashion in which He was to -make His kingdom, with a genuine purity and ardour -of attachment and affection, they worshipped Him, -they recognised the Divine within Him, they hailed -Him as the world's Christ and Saviour. Listen to -Martha's cry in her perplexity: "I cannot understand -it all, but I know Thou art the Christ come from God, -the world's King, the world's Saviour. That I know, -that I hold to." It was that understanding, that sympathy -in that home, that made it so sweet a place of -rest to Jesus. More than that—manifestly the two -sisters and brother lived a life of sweet human affection. -There was an atmosphere of tender love in their home, -broken by little storms of misunderstanding, as may be -in the very best of our imperfect human homes, but in -reality a great depth of tenderness, and clinging attachment, -and loyal love to one another, bound the household -together. Oh, thank God for every such home on -earth! That is the real bulwark against all pessimism, -the charter of our eternal birthrights. Given the -grandeur, the reality of human love, as, thank God, -most of us know it in our homes, that is the absolute -guarantee that it came from the creating hands of -grander Love Divine.</p> - -<p>Jesus was not merely loved by the family where He -came to spend the nights when He was working in -Jerusalem, but He got to love them with a very -wonderful tenderness. You remember that chivalrous, -impassioned defence of Mary, when she was assailed -by the coarse attacks of the disciples. You catch it, -too, in that message sent to Him—"He whom Thou -lovest." Ah, many an act of affection, many a look -that was a caress, many an appeal for sympathy that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">{98}</a></span> -bespoke brotherhood, had passed between Jesus of -Nazareth and that Lazarus, else the sisters would not -have thought of saying, "He whom Thou lovest is -sick."</p> - -<p>And yet into that home so dear to the heart of Jesus, -the Son of God, into that home that had for its Friend -the Man that was master of life and of death, of -calamity and prosperity, of all earthly powers and -forces, into that home there penetrated cruel, painful, -deadly sickness. The man Jesus loved lay there on -his bed dying.</p> - -<p>Now, I emphasize that, because there used to be a -great deal of thinking about God's relation to those -that love Him and whom He loves—a great deal of -teaching in the Christian Church that counted itself -most orthodox, and which was, indeed, deadly heresy, -coarse, materialistic, despicable, misunderstanding the -ideal grandeur of the Bible promises. Some of you -know the sort of teaching that used to prevail—the idea -that God's saints should be exceptionally favoured; the -sun would shine on their plot of corn, and it would not -shine on the plot of corn of the bad man; their ships -would not sink at sea, their children would not catch -infectious diseases; God would pamper them, exempt -them from bearing their part in the world's great battle, -with hardness and toil of labour, with struggle, and -attainment, and achievement. It came of a very despicable -conception of what a father can do for a child, -as if the best thing for a father to do for his son was -to pet and indulge him, and save him all bodily struggle -and all difficulties, instead of giving him a life of discipline. -As if a general in the army would, because -of his faltering heart, refuse to let his son take the post -of danger; as if he would not rather wish for that son—ay, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">{99}</a></span> -with a great pang in his own soul—that he should -be the bravest, the most daring, the one most exposed -to the deadliest hazard.</p> - -<p>Ah, we have got to recognise that we whom God -loves may be sick and dying, and yet God does love -us. Lazarus was loved by Jesus, yet he whom Jesus -loved was sick and dying. Ah, and there is a still -more poisonous difficulty in that materialistic, that -worldly way of looking at God's love; that horrible, -revolting misjudgment that Christ condemned, crushed -with indignation when it confronted Him. "The men -on whom the tower of Siloam fell must have been -sinners worse than us on whom it did not fall." Never, -never! The great government of the world is not -made up of patches and strokes of anger and outbursts -of weak indulgence. The world is God's great workshop, -God's great battle-field. These have their places. -Here a storm of bullets falls, and brave and good men -as well as cowards fall before it. You mistake if you -try to forestall God's judgments, God's verdicts on the -last great day of reckoning.</p> - -<p>Still we have got the fact that Christ does not interpose -to prevent death, that Christ does not hinder those -dearest to Him from bearing their share of life's sicknesses -and sufferings, that God Himself suffers death -to go on, apparently wielding an undisputed sway over -human existence.</p> - -<p>What is the consequence of it? Well, the first consequences -seem to be all evil. You might look on -the surface of life, and when you read superficially the -narrative of this chapter in St. John, it looks as if -mischief and evil came of the strange delay of God and -of His Christ. Look at the effect upon the disciples. -Now here there is not enough told to justify me in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">{100}</a></span> -putting more positively to you the picture of their inner -hearts, but I am going to present—I dread that I may -be guilty of a want of charity, at all events of disproportion—but -as I read this chapter, and try to think -myself into it, this is the conception I have: Had these -men known that Lazarus was very sick, they would -not have wished their Master to go back to try and -save him. They were selfish enough to have been -rather glad that He was at a distance, to wish that -He should not know. When the message did come -I think they were puzzled and perplexed. Selfishly, -they were rather pleased that He did not set off to go. -But, on the other hand—for, mind you, a selfish man -understands the dictates of love—they said to themselves, -"It is not quite like Him. Well, it is wise, -it is prudent not to go, but it is a little cowardly. -Does He love Lazarus so much as we used to think?" -Oh, if I am right, what a painful thing, all these bad, -poor, selfish thoughts of the Divine heart in Jesus! -all created, mark you, because Jesus suffered the man -whom He loved to be sick, and at last to die, and did -not go and check death, and drive the dark King of -Terrors back.</p> - -<p>Then Jesus says to them that He has resolved to -go and visit Lazarus. It is here I get the ground on -which I stand in forecasting that selfishness in them. -Then they thought He was wrong. They did venture -to blurt out what was a censure: "He will go; He -ought not to do it. What are we to do who see with -clearer eyes the pathway of prudence? To let Him -go and die? It was a total blunder, a mistake, but -all the same we cannot let Him go and die alone. Let -us go and die with Him."</p> - -<p>Oh, what a dearth of understanding of their Master, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">{101}</a></span> -His love, His power, His real character, created by -the enigma of Christ's conduct, that He had held His -hand, that He had suffered His friend to be sick, that -He had permitted him to die!</p> - -<p>Then come to the two sisters. Ah, what a struggle -must have gone on in their hearts, as hour after hour -passed after the point had come when Jesus should -have been with them if He had listened to their message, -if He pitied their brother, His own beloved friend. -What could the Master mean? Did something hinder -Him and prevent His coming? or was it the danger to -His life? Was there a little selfishness? or had they -any right to expect it? Either He is lacking in love, -or else He is lacking in power. What could it mean? -And then, when at last the poor sick eyes shut and -their brother lay there dead, their hearts were like -stones within them. And the burial, following swiftly -after in the East, because decay begins so quickly -there; and then the mourning and the hired mourners, -professional mourners, all around them, and these poor -women there saying in their hearts, "Surely, surely it -need not have been; certainly if the Master, who healed -so many sick, had been here, if He had come, if He -knew, if He had been here all this horror, this agony, -this pain, might have been escaped."</p> - -<p>So when Jesus did come, look at them, how they -met Him. Martha goes away out, and the first thing -she says is just what they had said so often to one -another and to their own hearts: "O Master, if Thou -hadst only been here our brother had not died." And -then the spirit of the woman told her that perhaps she -had hurt Jesus' feelings, that perhaps He was not to -blame, that perhaps there was some explanation, though -she could not see it, and so, in her blundering way—for -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">{102}</a></span> -she had not the fine tact that was in Mary—she -tried to mend it, and only made it worse by volunteering -that she did believe in Him after all.</p> - -<p>The soul of Christ felt the intended love, and -shuddered at that tremendous distance of sympathy -and understanding. "You believe in Me." He could -not hold it in. "Thy brother shall rise again." And -poor Martha was unable to rise to the height of Christ's -meaning. "Oh, yes, Lord, I know, at the great resurrection. -Yes, he will rise again." Then comes Jesus' -declaration, "I am the Resurrection and the Life. The -man that lives in Me, in whom I live, has in Me a -deathless life. I am here to-day to prove that." That -was what He meant, but He was far away above her. -The poor heart in her had lost Him. She was dazed, -and so she just fell back upon the one thing that she -was quite sure of, even if He had not been quite kind -to her, or even if His power was limited. "Yes, yes, -Master, I know Thou art the Christ, the Son of God, -come into this world to be its Saviour and its King." -And then, perhaps, with a sort of sense that Mary -could understand the Master better, could read His -meaning and tell it to her, she slipped away, and she -found her sister, and whispered in her ear, "The -Master is come, and asks for thee." Then Mary went -away to meet Him too.</p> - -<p>It is much harder to read what was in that sweet -heart of Mary. I have no doubt that she, too, had -fought a battle with doubt. The story seems to show -that she had attained to greater faith than Martha. -She had been pained, but still there was a divining -instinct in her, like the divining instinct that warned -her, when all the disciples were blind to it, that He -was going to die, and she went and anointed Him to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">{103}</a></span> -His burial; a divining instinct in her that somehow the -cloud was going to be rolled away. And she went out -and said simply, "Lord, if Thou hadst been here our -brother had not died." And then she was too wise to -say one word more. With her finer tact, with her -deeper understanding, she knew that was all she should -say. But it was like saying, "There is perplexity in -this visitation, in Thy delay, in my brother's death; -Thou couldst have made it different if Thou hadst seen -it well to be here. I cannot understand the right and -the love of it." It was a question. It did say, -"Master, what art Thou going to do?" And Christ -felt it was. As she broke out and burst into tears, He -lost control and wept with her.</p> - -<p>But there were others—the Jews, the enemies of -Christ; men who hated Him, men who disbelieved in -Him, men who grudged Him all His glory and the -love He had won on the earth. They had hurried out—some -of them with a degree of human compassion—to -that home of bereavement. It was known as the -home of Christ, and I think some of them had come -with greater pleasure that Lazarus had died. What -they said when they saw Him weep betrays their -mood. "This is He who professed to be able to open -the eyes of the blind and heal all sicknesses. How, -then, is it that He allows His dearest friend on earth -to be sick, and die, and be buried? He has lost His -power, if He ever had it." They were rejoicing over -His seeming defeat. They had no love for Him, and -so had no faith in Him.</p> - -<p>Is not that true of our world to-day? The best of -you, Christians, when death comes to your own homes, -do you manage to sing the songs of triumph right -away? Well, you are very wonderful saints if you do. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">{104}</a></span> -If you do not, perhaps you say, "If God is in this -world, how comes that dark enigma of death?"</p> - -<p>And others of you grip hold of your faith, but yet -your heart cries out against it. You believe that God -is good, but has He been quite good to you? Like -Martha, you feel as if you had some doubt; you feel -bound in your prayers; you say, "O God, I do not -mean to reproach Thee;" weak, sinful if you will, yet -the sign of a true follower of the Christ.</p> - -<p>And then the enemies of Christ, the worldlings all -about in this earth of ours, as they look upon death's -ravages, they are saying, "If there were a God, if -there were a Father, if there were a great heart that -could love, why does not He show it?" Now, I said to -you that at first it looks as if nothing but evil came of -God's delay to interpose against death; but when you -look a little deeper I think you begin to discover an -infinitely greater good and benefit come out of that -evil.</p> - -<p>I must very briefly, very rapidly, trace to you in the -story, and you can parallel it in the life of yourselves, -that discipline of goodness there is in God's refraining -from checking sickness and death. Christ said, the end -of it is first of all death, but that is not the termination. -Through death this sickness, this struggle of doubt and -faith, should end in the glory of God. He meant this: -In the preparation of His life and His death the death -and resurrection of Lazarus held a central position. It -was the turning-point, the thing that determined His -crucifixion on Calvary. That tremendous miracle compelled -the rulers of Jerusalem to resolve on and carry -out His death. That miracle of Lazarus' resurrection -gave to the faith of the disciples and of Christ's followers -a strength of clinging attachment that carried them -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">{105}</a></span> -through the eclipse of their belief when they saw Him -die on Calvary.</p> - -<p>Now, what would you say? Was it cruel of Christ -to allow His friend Lazarus, His dear friends Mary and -Martha, to go through that period of suspense, of -anxiety, of sickness, of death, and of the grave, that -they might do one of the great deeds in bringing in the -world's Redeemer? Oh, men and women, if God be -wise, and if God be great, then must it not be that -somehow or other the structure of this world is the -best for God's end, and our tears, and partings, and -calamities but incidents in the grand campaign that -shall end in the resplendent glory of heaven? Yes, for -the glory of God, and for the sake of others, for the -sake of the disciples, for the sake of the world, says -Christ, I have suffered My friend Lazarus to die.</p> - -<p>"Ah," you say, "you have still got to show God's -goodness and kindness to me individually. My death -may be for God's glory, it may be for the good of -others; but how about me and those who mourn?" -Well, now, look at it. You must get to the end of the -story before you venture to judge the measure, the -worth, of God's goodness. After all, was that period -of sickness and death unmitigated gloom, and horror, -and agony? Oh, I put it to you, men and women, who -have passed through it, watching by the death of dear -father or mother that loved the Lord and loved you, -and whom you loved—dark, and sore, and painful -enough at the time; but oh, if I called you to speak -out, would you not say it was one of the most sacred -periods of your life—the unspeakable tenderness, the -sweet clinging love, the untiring service, the grateful -responses, the sacredness that came into life? Ay, -and when the tie was snapped, the new tenderness that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">{106}</a></span> -you gave to the friends that are left, the new pledge -binding you to heaven, and to hope for it, and long for -it—death is not all an evil to our eyes. Death cannot -ultimately be an evil, since it is universal—the consummation, -climax, crown of every human life. Ah, -if we had the grander majesty of soul to look at it from -God's altitude, we should call death, not a defeat, but a -victory, a triumph. I think sometimes that if death did -not end these lives of ours, how weary they would get. -Think of it—to live on for ever in the sordidness, in -the littleness, in the struggle, the pain, the sin of this -life of ours. Oh, we need that angel of death to come -in, and now and then stir the pool of our family life, -that there may be healing in it, that there may be -blessing in it! Death, holding the hand of God through -it, to those that stand by and see the sweetness of -human love, the triumph of faith celestial, has a grandeur -in it, like Christ's death on the cross; it hides out -of sight of the people the ghastly, the doubt-creating -features and elements of its external impediment—death -becomes God's minister. It is going home to -one's Father.</p> - -<p>Yes, but you want the guarantee that death is not -the end, and that day it was right and lawful for Christ -to give it, to anticipate the last great day, when in one -unbroken army, radiant and resplendent, shining like -jewels in a crown, He shall bring from the dark grave -all that loved Him, fought for Him, and were loyal to -Him on the road, and went down into the dark waters -singly, one by one, in circumstances of ignominy often, -and yet dying with Christ within them, the Resurrection -and the Life.</p> - -<p>Ah, that great, grand vindication of God, and interpretation -of this world's enigma was made clear that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">{107}</a></span> -day when Christ called Lazarus back, and gave him alive -to his sisters in the sight of His doubting disciples, in -the sight of those sneering enemies. And what I like -to think as best of all and most comforting of all is this, -that Christ did that deed of love and goodness to hearts -that so misunderstood Him, were so ignorant of His -glory, denied and disbelieved so much of His claims, -were then and there so despairing, so hopeless, that -perhaps it was only in one heart, the heart of Mary, there -was hope or faith like a grain of mustard-seed. Yet -He did it. Why? He whom He loved died, and they -whom He loved mourned. It was not that they loved -Him; it was that He loved them.</p> - -<p>Ah, when I read sneers at the simple Evangelical -Gospel that says, "Put away all thoughts of earning -heaven; your good works are rags"—true enough, true -enough—the sneers are mistaken. It is a very grand -Gospel that, for what it says is this, "There is hope, -salvation from sin, life eternal, for you and for me, not for -anything in us, nor for anything we can do, even if we -did the best we could. We hold the hope and confidence -of redemption, resurrection, in our hearts, because -the God that made us loves us;" and so—as I read -lately in a recently published book, amid much that I -think is foolish, what yet struck me as singularly tender -and true—"When in the hour of death we cry, 'Good -Lord, deliver us,' we might stop and leave out the -'deliver us.' It is quite enough if we are dying in the -arms of a God that is good."</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">{108}</a></div> - -<h2>III.<br /> -<i>THE STORY OF DORCAS.</i></h2> - -<p class="center small"><span class="smc">Acts</span> ix. 36-43.</p> - -<p class="drop-cap">TO a man who believes in a living, personal God -the world's history is the record of God's actions. -The Bible story is an account of an exceptional period -in the Divine activity, during which God's dealings with -men are peculiarly significant; as it were more immediate, -frank, and expressive, more true to His inmost -character. Then, traits found utterance that in general -are mute. Repression gave way to expression. The -incidents in this expression are out of the common, -look marvellous; we call them miracles. Such things -do not happen to us, but we hold they happened for us. -They are, so to say, a personal explanation on God's -part, at once a disclaimer and a declaration. He is not -altogether to be judged by the normal course of events. -His feelings do not quite answer to appearances. His -heart does not correspond entirely to His hand. He is -more than His deeds. Measure Him by these, and you -mistake Him, because for the most part He acts under -restraint. His love may be much greater than His -language, His kindness warmer than His conduct. -Reticence is often imposed on affection. You do not -always tell your child all the praise you might express, -and admiration you feel. When he has entered the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">{109}</a></span> -struggle of school-life you look on while he battles -with a hard task, till his weariness pains you, but you -hold back and do not help him. It may be my lot to -know of a friend contending against unjust accusation, -well-nigh crushed, and I may not stand by him, knowing -my aid would harm, not help, though at the risk of -his misunderstanding me. God would have us know, -as we with perplexity look to His silent heaven out of -our sin and sorrow, that spite of strange seeming, His -heart is love. We do not fare as our Father fain -would have us fare. Things are not as He would wish -them. There is a discrepancy between the desires of -His heart and the doings of His hand. He cannot -quite trust us as He would. There is an obstacle; we -should be better off but for that. We do right to say, -with Martha, "Lord, if Thou hadst been here my brother -had not died." And that we may be sure it is so, once -He broke through His reticence; He <i>was</i> here; He -gave His heart full play, and treated men as He always -feels towards them. Their sicknesses were healed, -their sins forgiven; the Infinite Love laid soft hands -on their pain; the Eternal Pity whispered peace in -their souls. Now we can look on Christ and say we -know what God is. But for hindrances, we can say, -He would always act so. Spite of our fortunes, that -is how He feels. At length the barrier will be overthrown, -and He will treat me so likewise.</p> - -<p>This is the practical use we are to make of such -stories of Scripture as Dorcas's restoration from death. -It is a marvel—what, precisely, we know not. But, for -this woman God did a splendid and wonderful act of -love, that dispelled the eclipse of death in a sunshine -of endless security. What happened to her happens -not to us. But God's heart is unchanged. If you be -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">{110}</a></span> -like her, such another, the Divine regard round you in -life and in death is as tender and strong as it was -about her.</p> - -<p>In the important seaport town of Joppa there were -gathered together some believers in Jesus. Among -them was a woman named Tabitha (Heb.), or Dorcas -(Gr.). The name signifies Gazelle, or Fawn. It was -one of those pet names given to woman, a name of -beauty, though the bearer of it may have been plain -enough. Not much is told about her, but what is told -is of such a kind that we may conjecture more. Little -things have a significance in combination. Thus we -can fill in the meagre outline that is given us, till the -picture grows into completeness.</p> - -<p>Dorcas was a lone woman. Of husband or of -children we hear nothing. Unlike those others with -whom she is linked in Bible story as fellow-sharers -in the miracle of restoration to life—unlike Lazarus, -unlike the daughter of Jairus or the widow's son at -Nain—we read in her case of no loving relatives who -soothed her dying bed and wept when she was gone. -She stands alone in the world—one of those women -of whom we speak as of persons to be pitied, unhappy; -with a woman's natural hopes and occupations, in which -she finds rest for her instincts, denied or blighted.</p> - -<p>Dorcas is a forlorn figure, stricken by grief and woe. -We feel inclined to turn away from such. The bleak, -cold winds that blow across the lonely spaces where -they find their planting seem to chill our joy. We -forget that it is not thorns alone which grow in spots -that we deem waste; not seldom God's fairest flowers -and fruits spring up on what we count barren and -forsaken ground. In Dorcas, we may well believe, -there was nothing woe-begone or repellent; it is as -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">{111}</a></span> -pleasant, amiable, and beloved that we think of her. -The tree of her life had been stricken by the lightning; -its own leaves and branches stripped; but it did not -remain a bare and unsightly stump, naked and alone. -Lichens and clinging plants had gathered at its roots, -and twined about its stem, and clothed it with a new -verdure and beauty.</p> - -<p>All this might have been so different. Dorcas might -have succumbed to sorrow, and amid the ruins of her -shattered home she might have flung herself on the -ground in despair. She might have been moping and -repining, selfishly nursing her grief, embittered, envious, -and grudging to others their joy. God pity those who -are; it is often that the milk of human kindness has -turned sour: the fault is of misfortune. She might -have made herself a burden to all around, held the -world a debtor, and herself a wronged creditor. She -might have insisted on being miserable—as if a long -face made a lighter heart. Some in her position act so. -They resent the smiles of others, and hold that if weeping -is their portion, then all should weep. Others hide -under a smiling face a sad heart, and laugh with you. -Dorcas did none of these things. She set herself to be -of use, to give aid and help to others. Ah! I think it -sometimes happens that God removes the home of a -woman's love, breaks down its walls, and unroofs it -before the storm, in order that the love may go out to -embrace a larger family. The hearts of some women -are made to shelter and console all homeless ones. -Their love takes wings, and flies through the earth in -search for the desolate and afflicted. It does not need -the ties of home, of husband and children, to form a -loving, useful, warm-hearted woman.</p> - -<p>How long had Dorcas been such a woman as the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">{112}</a></span> -story tells of? We cannot say. Perhaps she was -humbly good and sensible, and had borne her sorrows -bravely from the first, an unconscious follower of Jesus. -Perhaps she was once soured, bitter, and woe-begone, -till she heard of the great Sorrow-bearer, and learnt -from Him to make her sorrow an offering, and to use -her knowledge of sadness to lighten others' woe. For -she was "a disciple." That means just one who looks -how Christ went about the world, and sets to to go -likewise.</p> - -<p>Having made up her mind to do good, what could -she do? Nothing much. She could not preach; she -could not be an apostle, and do great deeds of healing. -She was too poor, too stupid, too uninfluential to start -a mission or build a hospital. But she could darn, and -stitch, and plan garments for widows—and how many -such does not the life of a seafaring town create! She -could speak kind words and do good turns, go to -meeting, and be a quiet, gentle, sweet, helpful woman. -That she could be, nothing more; and that she was. -Why should she be more? That is what God means -a good woman to be.</p> - -<p>A homely, unromantic, dull, unattractive life, you -say; good, but uninteresting. So, perhaps, the neighbours -said. So we all go on thinking and saying, while -the angels laugh at our folly. As if God did not often -conceal under the hardest, coarsest shells and husks -the silkiest of downy lining and the very sweetest of -fruit-kernels. Yes, outside it looked a stripped, bare, -monotonous life. But within there was a whole world -of beauty and pathos. God knew the tender thoughts -of the dead; the rising of old cravings that woke and -called once more for buried loves; the silent, speechless -prayers in lonely eventides. He knew of memories -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">{113}</a></span> -that were tears to her, but turned to warmth and cheer -for others; of very kindly thoughts and gentle love -woven and sown into those garments. No, the neighbours -did not see all this. But God's eyes looked, and -saw a very garden of the Lord for beauty and fragrance. -I know it must have been so, from the love her way of -doing kindness won. Merely to do good is not enough -to get love; one must be good. It is wonderful how -some people do endless good, and yet none cares for -them. Dorcas was not a machine, actively good -because actively wound up. People do not weep such -tears as fell when she died for the loss of a sewing-machine, -useful though such might be, and working for -nothing. Nor was she a woman with a mission, -bustling, important, loud-voiced; useful and needed -such may be, respected, but not quite loved. Nor was -she a lady patroness, looking down on those upon whom -she showered her benefits. Those who work like Dorcas -do not work of mechanical duty, nor for fuss of fame, -nor for thanks. It is but little likely that thanks were -given her. People would say, "She has nothing else -to do;" "She has no family to look after;" "She has -plenty of time on her hands;" "It's almost a kindness -to take her sewing;" "She had sooner work than not." -Exactly, that was it. She was nothing more than -a kindly, humble-hearted, womanly soul, that feared -God and loved men, and did good in solid ways; one -whose life made other women glad that she was born. -What more would you have her be? Are you sure -you understand what that was?</p> - -<p>She became ill. She did not tell how ill she felt, -but lay lone and sick. She would not burden others -with her pain, and to die she did not fear. Her neighbours -found it out and nursed her tenderly, but she -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">{114}</a></span> -died. Then there was nothing to do but reverently to -lay her out, to put flowers on her breast and in her -hands; it was all the kindness they could do now; -how they wished they had done more when she was -alive! Then they thought what to do next. When one -is dead there is so little you can do, and yet you want -to do so much. Then some one thought of Peter. The -Apostle was only twelve miles off. He will surely come -to see poor Dorcas once again, and show honour to her -memory. And so the little groups of busy, tearful -talkers united in one resolve to send for Peter. They -would like him to be with them, to tell him all their -trouble and sorrow, and pour into his sympathetic ears -an eager chronicle of Dorcas's holy deeds. It is wonderful -how much good your neighbours know to tell of -you when you are dead, and how much evil while you -are still alive.</p> - -<p>This was the reason why they sent for Peter; not -that they expected him to restore the dead to life. Had -they not laid the dead body of their benefactress out, -and washed and prepared it for burial? Why should -they expect a miracle on her behalf? Stephen and -James had trodden their martyr path, and no voice from -heaven had called them back to leadership and witness-bearing -in the Church. What should they expect -for Dorcas from the Apostle beyond his sorrowful -compassion?</p> - -<p>Peter came. He found the room full of weeping -women, telling of her goodness, of her clever fingers; -showing him <i>on them</i> (<i>middle voice</i>) the dresses and -petticoats she had made. How many they seemed -when gathered together in that little room! All the -results of the toil of her busy hands, scattered through -the town, now gathered in the chamber of death to tell -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">{115}</a></span> -of her goodness after she was gone. Herself, she did -not know the whole. "Blessed are the dead who die -in the Lord; for their works do follow them."</p> - -<p>We die and are not much missed. The world rolls on. -Yet none is quite unwept, unnoticed. There are two -sets of people who will mourn. There are those who -loved you and found their joy in ministering to you; -a mother, a lover: good or bad you may have been, -but they will weep over your grave. Or, in heaven, -they smile; in smiles or tears they love. And there -are those you loved, on whose souls are the marks -of your kindness, warmth, help, and cheer; they will -miss you.</p> - -<p>How came Peter to conceive the hope of recovering -Dorcas to life? It was not through the message of an -angel, or the narrative would tell us of it; nor was it -through a special communication of the Spirit, or the -sacred history would record it, as the habit of the Bible -is. It seems to have been in an ordinary way, though -under the Spirit's guidance. A little thing in Peter's -doings suggests that he followed the train of an old -memory, that he was dominated and inspired by a -bygone incident. Amid those weeping women his -heart was moved: he recalled an unforgotten scene. -He remembered an old man coming to the Master with -a white, anxious face and quivering lips, to plead for -his sick child. He remembered their hurrying steps, -and the eager impatience of the stricken father as they -turned their faces to his house; the messenger bringing -the sad tidings "dead;" the Master's face lighting up -with a quiet, strange resolution as He said, "She is -not dead;" and then how He put them all out and -restored the maiden to her parents. Why should he -not ask the Master now? He put them all out. He -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">{116}</a></span> -prayed. Confidence filled his heart. He summoned -the dead woman from the shadow-land. She opened -her eyes. To the weeping, mourning, loving women -he gave her again—alive from the dead!</p> - -<p>It was a tremendous deed of wonder and glory. It -was done on a lonely, simple, humble woman. Why -on her? Why not on James or Stephen? I cannot -tell, for certain. God knows. His reasons are other -than our thoughts. But I see this as possibly a cause: -You observe that two narratives are conjoined. Dorcas, -for her alms-deeds, receives this miracle of resurrection; -while, for alms-deeds, Cornelius is acknowledged in a -miracle also. Nowhere else in the Acts of the Apostles -are alms-deeds made so prominent. In each story, and -in the conjunction, I see design. God meant to set a -mark of honour on the love that was displayed. I think -He would guard the Church against undue estimation -of preaching, apostles, miracle-working, deeds of show, -gifts; and teach us that beyond all is love. So He -singles out not an apostle, not a martyr, but this gentle, -kind, womanly life, and crowns it with grandeur and -glory, makes it conqueror of death, encircles it with a -halo of most wonderful, Divine, loving care. Not preaching, -not angel speech, not mountain-removing faith, -but love is the centre. God judges differently from -us. We worship the great leaders, orators, reformers, -creed-makers; our statistics are of Churches, prayers, -and preachers. God reckons all love for Himself and -man as vaster, wider, and grander. Ah! while we think -not of it, in unseen corners, in hidden nooks, He sees -and garners a harvest of love and lowly service that -shall be the beauty and glory of heaven. Let us think -as God thinks. Let us learn to worship not gifts, but -graces, not greatness, but goodness only. Bend your -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">{117}</a></span> -knee to such a woman with a reverence you will yield -to no king, to no genius, however Godlike; and bend -it, for you bend it to Christ. Humble, lonely, simple -Christian souls, God cares for you as for her, if you -are like her. Patiently toil on; God feels towards you -as towards her. Go forward to death, sure that He -will gather your life with equal care, not back into -earth's struggle, but up into heaven's glory.</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">{118}</a></div> - -<h2>IV.<br /> -<i>UNFULFILLED CHRISTIAN WORK.</i></h2> - -<p class="small">"And unto the angel of the Church in Sardis write; These things -saith He that hath the seven Spirits of God, and the seven stars; I -know thy works, that thou hast a name that thou livest, and art dead. -Be watchful, and strengthen the things which remain, that are ready -to die: for I have not found thy works perfect before God."—<span class="smc">Rev.</span> -iii. 1, 2.</p> - -<p class="small">Reading the last clause a little more literally will more fully bring -out the meaning: "For I have found no works of thine fulfilled -before My God."—R.V.</p> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE passage forms a picture—God on His throne, -Christ by His side, the work of the Churches on -earth travelling up to God, and presenting itself before -the throne Divine, and Christ, as the Churches pass in -procession, judging them. The religious activity of -the Church in Sardis swept by before God's throne, -under Christ's eyes, and as it passed He saw that not -one single task undertaken by that Church was done -fully; everything was half done, and therefore worthless. -It was not that the church was doing nothing, -but it was doing nothing worth doing. These were -the facts. Christ's judgment on the facts is this: -"Thou hast a name that thou livest, and art dead." A -Church all whose labours are but half done is dead. -Yet there were good men and women in the congregation -at Sardis. If you read on you find this said by -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">{119}</a></span> -Christ: "Thou hast a few names even in Sardis which -have not defiled their garments."</p> - -<p>So, then, a Church may be dead though it contains -living members. How can that be? A Church is not -a mere number of individuals added to one another; -something results from that combination of separate -individuals; something very different, with fresh powers -and added responsibilities, rises out of grouping together -a number of individual Christians, that is a -Church. A Church, a congregation (it is in that sense -I use the word "Church" all through this discourse), -has an individuality of its own; a Church has a character -of its own; a Church has a spirit of its own; -a Church has capacities of its own; a Church can do -what no individual nor any mere number of individuals -added together can do; a Church, as soon as it is -constituted, creates a new kind of life, a new kind of -being, a new kind of activities. No individual Christian, -however good he may be, can out of himself -make Christian fellowship, Christian devotion, Christian -labour and co-operation, all that social life which -springs from the union of severed individuals; no -separate Christian, nor any number of separate Christians, -can produce that. A Church, therefore, is something -distinct from the individual members of whom -it is built. A house is not a thousand bricks; it is -something quite different, something made not merely -by the presence of the bricks, but by their being -built together. Each separate element of the building, -when united, is able to do its share in the great work -that none of them, or any member of them, could do -without that combination which forms the edifice. A -Church, a congregation, has its own character. Each -provincial town in England has a character of its own; -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">{120}</a></span> -and an intelligent man, with quick sympathies, recognises -the difference of spirit when he enters a town -from that which was prevalent in the town he left. -One is Radical, one is very Materialistic; one is full of -poetry, and imagination, and literature; and the individual -residing in the town is affected by the general -spirit of that town. Every school has a character of -its own, a spirit of its own; not that each boy in the -school is just modelled on that type, but to a large -extent each individual pupil is affected by the spirit of -the school. The spirit of the school exists in the boys -that dominate it. It is the same with Churches. In -one congregation you are conscious of warmth, and -enthusiasm, and friendliness, and love; in another -congregation you are conscious of stiffness, and a -rigid propriety, and distance, and coldness, and artificiality. -In one Church you are conscious of a large, -and liberal, and generous spirit; in another Church you -are conscious of factions, fighting, and meanness and -stinginess. That is a fact; you have felt it. A mere -stranger entering the building on a Sunday morning -feels it; it is there, there in the very faces of the people -as they sit in their pews, there in the minister as he -stands in the pulpit. A public speaker said to me this -last week, "I may come with my address to a weekday -meeting, but it all depends upon the spirit and -mood of the meeting; it is one thing in one place, and -another in another;" and if you have ever tried to -speak in a Church or at a meeting you will have found -it to be so. There may be a dozen men present in that -meeting whose spirit is all that you may want, but -they cannot make the result; the general result of it is -determined by the mass. So it may come to pass that -in a congregation there may be not a few individual -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">{121}</a></span> -members who are warm, living, earnest servants of -Jesus Christ; but their goodness is not of the dominating -kind; they have piety, but they lack manly power; -they have good feeling and good intentions, but they -have not character; they cannot command the whole; -they cannot give their spirit to the mass of men; they -just survive, but they cannot take the offensive; they -have need of protection. They live themselves, but -do not live half so strongly or half so healthily as they -would in a congregation which was warm to the very -tips of its fingers and the fringes of its garments; they -are living, but the Church is dead.</p> - -<p>What is the life of a Church? The life of a Church -is loving loyalty to Jesus Christ, present more or less -in the actual human heart of all the members; an inner, -hidden thing, that you cannot weigh in a balance, that -you cannot set down in figures in an annual report, -that you cannot exhibit to a non-believer or a worldling, -but the greatest, the most powerful force in all our -world.</p> - -<p>The life of a Church is a living, real presence of Jesus -Christ, as a daily influence on the conduct, the thoughts, -the words, the deeds of all the members of that Church. -The life of a Church is the living presence of Jesus -Christ in every committee of management, in every -meeting of Sunday-school teachers, in every social -gathering of the congregation; a living loyalty and -devotion to the Lord Jesus Christ, born out of a grateful -certainty that He died to save us, born out of a -grand sympathy with Him, and under the belief that -He is willing to save all the men and women and all -the little children who are round about us. That is the -living life of a Church, and nothing else is. You may -have a perfect orthodoxy, and death; you may have -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">{122}</a></span> -great activity, and yet you may have death. Nothing -is the life of a Church but actual living loyalty and -love to the real living Lord of the Church, Jesus Christ.</p> - -<p>Christ stands at the right hand of God, judging the -Churches. He judges them by their works. But the -life of a Church is not a thing of the hands or of the -tongue; it is a thing of the heart. At the same time -Christ has to make His judgment just; He has to go -upon visible facts, and He can safely proceed upon the -Church's work. Wherever there is life it cannot be -still; it works, it moves, it beats, it becomes warmed; -it must come out. If a Church has no works it has no -life. What are those works which are the visible -signs of a living Church? They are these: No dry, -spasmodic zeal for orthodoxy when some heresy crops -up which makes a public sensation; no straight, rigid -propriety, and fineness of outward form, and æsthetic -culture of ceremonial. The life that is loving loyalty to -Christ, present in the heart of every individual member -of a congregation, comes out in this way: it makes -hearty singing on a Sunday. Even a man who has no -musical voice, and who is a little weary, cannot help -singing when his heart is stirred, even if he stops -short in case he should make discord to his neighbours. -It is all nonsense to say that people have grateful hearts -to Christ when they sit with shut mouths to Christ's -praise. I know well that habit has a great deal to do -with it. It is the way of some Churches to sing heartily, -and it is the way of some other Churches to let the -choir do the singing; and I know, therefore, that you -must not too absolutely take such a test as a standard -by which you will judge whether or not there is a -living warmth, and enjoyment, and cheering in the service -and in the congregation. I believe all that, nevertheless -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">{123}</a></span> -I have seen the most stiff and silent congregation -roused to sing when their hearts were aroused. Such -silence is a bad habit. And how about the prayers? -Men will not merely listen to the words, and will not -criticise a man when he prays; men will be reverent; men -will, by their very attitude, make it felt that souls are face -to face with God. Men will not be sitting finding fault -with all the blurs and blemishes that there are in the -services (which there must be in every human service) -when their hearts are being fed, and when their souls -are going out to God. There will be no lack of Sunday-school -teachers; and the Sunday-school teachers in -such a Church will not do their work in a listless and -negligent way, and fail in keeping their appointments -and engagements, but will do it as if it were a pleasure. -It is not the blame of Sunday-school teachers in a -dead Church if they are teachers of that sort; it is the -blame of the dead Church. How can they keep alive? -Shall we put the penalty upon those who are partially -living? No; it is the great mass of death, and decay, -and coldness which is to blame. Let us visit the sins -on the guilty parties.</p> - -<p>A living Church will show its life in hearty, generous -liberality to every good cause. A living Church will -show its life by bravery and courage in taking up new -responsibilities that may offer themselves, and working -them most heartily. A living Church is living, not -because it does one or all of these things, but because -it loves loyalty to the Lord Jesus, who died for it, and -feels that goodness and holiness are the grandest things -in the world, and is eager to have all the children -taught to love the Lord Jesus, and all the young people -who are going out amid the temptations of life strengthened -and helped to withstand them, and old people -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">{124}</a></span> -whose lives are embittered when a disaster comes -upon them made tender, and soft, and submissive, by -the life of Christ in that Church and among their -Christian neighbours. Yes, the life of a Church is not -a mere liking for what Christ loves, and a wish to -please Him, but real life and real love to Christ will -come out, not in correctness of creed, but in life and -in work. It is an awful thing when a Church is -dead, with all the children in it gathering to go to a -Church which is cold, and to a dragging service, and -to spiritless singing, and to melancholy prayer, and to -a dry preaching. Ay, I have seen children who hated -religion, because their parents, as I believe, were living -in a dead Church. I have often said, "Cut your connection -with such a Church; go rather to another -denomination, which has life." I venture to say that -a father who loves his child will sacrifice anything in -order that that child may have pleasant and attractive -views of religion. But shall the child's first idea of -religion come to him in the shape of a crippled and -broken-down failure? Fathers and mothers are absolutely -bound thus to promote the spiritual interests of -their children; it is worth more than anything else -that is done for them; and I say that a Church which -is gathering those young people around it, and keeping -them from more dangerous places, and leading them to -have it in their hearts to come and sit down with -Christian people, is doing more than all the world will -ever do. It is worth taking a great deal of trouble to -belong to a living Church, and it is the absolute duty -of every member of every Church to do all he can not -merely to make himself alive, but to make the whole -Church full of warm, living life.</p> - -<p>When a Church is dead, or only half alive, the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">{125}</a></span> -defect shows itself specifically and certainly in this -manner: The Church's work is only half done, and -can only half be fulfilled, when only a portion of its -members fulfil their allotted task to their Master. If, -in a Church which numbers five hundred, only fifty are -doing the utmost they can do, the Church's measure -of work will not be fulfilled before the judgment-seat -of God. Fifty individuals cannot do what it takes -five hundred to do. A half-done work, how it is -spoiled! The army were defending the frontier -bravely and successfully; but one cowardly regiment -gave way, and the ranks were broken, and all the -bravery, and the blood, and the death of the brave -men were lost—lost by the cowardice. The work of a -Church that is wearily done, in its life and extent, -by a few living men and women in it, is poorly done; -they do it with such a struggle; they are so weary -and worn out; they have not pleasure, they have not -enthusiasm, in doing it. How can they have? Oh, -it is hard when a few men and women have to do all -the teaching, and all the visiting, and all the work at -the meetings! it spoils their work; it is not fair play. -I appeal to you to determine whether I speak truly or -not. One man cannot do another man's work. One -link of a chain cannot do duty for another link, and -if the one goes, sometimes the chain is worth nothing -at all. The work of a dead or half-dead Church stands -before God's judgment-seat unfulfilled. How can it -tell on the careless? how can it tell on the worldly? -Do you think that they will be just, and say, "Ah, -look at what the fifty are doing"? No, you may -be quite sure that they will look at the deficiency of -the four hundred and fifty, and say, "Is this a Church -of Christ?" Who blames them?</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">{126}</a></div> - -<p>A living Church must work, and it must work on, -and it must send life through every part and fragment -of its whole frame, or else it has begun to die. It is -not a small thing, of no concern, if some members of a -Church are doing nothing by being idle. The work -that a Church has to do is the creation of living -Christian character, and of the conviction that being in -Church on Sunday and belonging to a congregation -make a man a kinder brother, or a more loving father -or husband, and make a woman a better mother or a -more kindly neighbour. That is the best work a Church -can do, and that does not come to a man through a -dead Church. A living Church must be making itself -felt all around in the world outside by work of that -kind; and I say that it is not a matter of no consequence -if some members of a Church are not receiving -and not transmitting that warmth and activity. It is -not a small matter if one organ of my body be dying, -be passing into mortification; it means death to the -whole body, and I must cut it off unless life can be -brought back again into it. It is the very law of life, -as God has made it, that everything which has life in -it must be working; it cannot stop. If your heart -stops it is death; nothing else can make it stop but -death. If any organ in your body is always receiving, -but giving nothing, and not sending out what it gets, -improved, to the rest, it means diseased life, it means -death. Does the stomach receive its daily food to keep -it to itself, as we so often receive the prayers and -sermons in a Church? No; as soon as the feeding is -done the hard work begins; the stomach gives it to the -blood, and what does the blood do? As the great -carrier of the system, it delivers it here and there—here -a little to this muscle, there to that bone, there to the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">{127}</a></span> -brain, and all through the body. And what the muscles -and the other parts have received do they keep? No; -if the various portions of the body did not give out -what they receive they would get choked; it would be -death by surfeit; they must work. And so the circle -of life goes round; stop it at any one point, and you -spoil the whole circle. If the blood-vessels do not do -their work, if the muscles do not do their work, and so -on throughout the entire system, it means this, that -that body is not healthy; it means death to the whole -frame. A business man said to me yesterday, "As -soon as a man ceases pushing his business, and does -not endeavour to extend it, it falls off." He does not -want actually to increase it, but he must adopt that -plan to keep it up to its present mark. The Church, -alas! has not been willing to increase its work, desiring -to take on other responsibilities; it does not say, "I -cannot rest while people are cold and not interested in -doing the Church's work, not bent upon bringing in -sinners, and bringing children into the Sunday-schools -to be taught to love and reverence religion, and causing -people whose life is sour and bitter to be soothed and -comforted."</p> - -<p>What I have been pressing upon you is the law of -life. Is it a hard law? No, it is a kind law. That is -how God rewards you for what you have done; He -gives you more work to do. In reading the parable of -the men to whom it was assigned to rule over the cities -did you ever mark how they were rewarded? Here is -a man who has actively and effectively used ten talents. -How does his lord reward him—by giving him a -sinecure? No; he says, "You shall be ruler over ten -cities;" and in the same way the man who has been -successful with five talents is made ruler over five cities. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">{128}</a></span> -Did you ever know a man who had served his country -well, and benefited it, wish to withdraw into a drawing-room, -and spend the remainder of his life in luxury and -ease? Did you ever know a successful general who -wanted to get a big fortune and to retire? No; successful -men cannot be rewarded better than by giving -them a deal more to do—larger responsibilities, larger -powers, a larger sense of strength successfully exerted. -That is the blessing and the joy which shall go with -larger toil, and grander accomplishment, and brighter -goodness. The few who are used to work shall have -plenty of work. I take it as a sign that God is pleased -with the results of a Church when He gives them new -work to do, and the heart to take it up. It is not extra -work; it is the reward of the past, and it is a step that -shall lead you to a higher throne. Nay, more; work -is indispensable to the enjoyment of a Church's good. -No Church can heartily enjoy what we call religious -privileges unless it is working hard; and no individual -member of that Church will get the good of it unless -he is taking a part in the Church's work. He does not -need to be an office-bearer or anything of that sort; -his work may be just friendliness to others in the -house of God, showing a kind spirit to them or taking -an interest in them, showing neighbourliness by his -Church character. Do not think that it is a high array -of talents that is required; no, it is the Church's function -of being "all of one mind," and knit together and -helping one another, and sympathising with one another, -being bound up in the common lot of disasters and -trials. I say that no individual member, unless he is -taking his part, is a living member of that Church. If -people are very fastidious about the doctrines which -are preached, if people are searching into the sense of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">{129}</a></span> -every hymn or prayer, if people are finding fault with -the way in which everything is done, then it may be -that the Church is to blame; but if the Church is doing -its work as well as any poor human Church can do it, -I advise such a one to say to himself, "May not I be to -blame?" If you think that the daily food which is -provided for you is not properly cooked, and it is not -of the proper sort, and does not taste well, is it not -your doctor you want to go to, to ask him to cure you -of dyspepsia? And in all probability he will recommend -to you exercise and hard work. A hard-working -man does not complain even of dry bread; he is not -particular; he has an appetite. I have known, in the -Church to which I belonged before I began to preach, -how pleased I was even with sermons which had no -originality in them if I saw that they were part of the -common work. It was my home, and you do not -criticise your own home; and you do not criticise your -father and mother; you believe in the power which you -get from your father, because he is yours. Throw -yourself into the Church, become a part of it, take an -interest in everything, and it is wonderful how little -you will have of criticism about you. Take plenty of -spiritual exercise, and you may be sure that even a -bare and poor spiritual diet will agree wonderfully -with you.</p> - -<p>Christ reckons with Churches—Christ at God's right -hand, what is He about? When He was down here -on earth He went hither and thither, seeking the lost; -He forgave the woman that wept at His feet; He saved -the dying thief. Oh, gentle, loving Saviour Jesus, "the -same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever"! And at -God's right hand He is loving, and pitying, and forgiving -my sins, and pleased with my tears of repentance—forbearing, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">{130}</a></span> -tender, saving Jesus! We preach that; we -should not be men, we should not be Christians, if we -did not preach that; we could not live without that -thought of Jesus. But let us be true; do not let us -hide facts. That same Jesus stands at God's right -hand, judging the Churches, reckoning with them. Oh, -to a penitent sinner He is all heart, but to a slothful -servant He is a faithful Master! He reckons with -Churches; He reckons with individuals. It would not -be kind if He did not reckon with you. Would you -wish Him not to reckon? Would you like to say, "I -do not care whether He does anything with me or not"? -Ah, I should begin to think that Christ did not love -you at all if He did not reckon with you, if he were not -grieved and angry when you did not do your duty to -Him and to your neighbour! Where would be the -dignity of life if we did not believe in a great last -judgment, with a stern reckoning with sin? We -should sink to the level of the animals if there were no -judgment. It proves that man has an immortal spirit. -What does it matter, with the animals, what they do? -But God must reckon with man, and He would not be -reigning if man had not to reckon on an awful judgment-day -for every spirit. It is a proof to me that I -am of moment, and that my human spirit has dignity; -it makes clear to me my place in the universe, and my -claim to immortality; it shows me that I am of sufficient -importance to necessitate God's reckoning with -me. Churches, too, must be reckoned with. It would -argue that they were mere nurseries, were hospitals -for people to be convalescent in, mere nonentities, -counting for nothing in the great work of the world -and the mighty purpose of God, if we did not know -that Christ was to reckon with them. They have great -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">{131}</a></span> -powers given to them, they have great capabilities, they -have tremendous responsibilities; they can fulfil God's -purposes in the world, and nothing but their supineness -and listlessness hinders them; and God and Christ -must reckon with Churches. I would not have it -different. Let Them reckon with them, and let me remember -that They will reckon with me and my Church; -and let me be full of good works. Christ must reckon -with it, for the Church's sake. How could He but care? -Oh, if we did but believe what we preach and what -we read in our Gospels! It is that Jesus lost all things -which men look for; that He turned aside from every -joy of life; that He gathered sorrows around Him; -that His great heart was broken upon the cross; that -He spent all His life—for what? That He might save -men from eternal banishment from God; that He might -put happiness instead of misery into every house where -there are unholiness and evil; that He might make men -brighter and better. His great heart was all warm and -eager for it. Oh, what He has sacrificed! He is a -disappointed, lost man if He fails, and if He succeeds -it must be done through His congregations, through -His Churches, through men and women here. How -can He but care? how can He but watch? As all -the Church's activity goes by before God's throne, the -recording angel takes it down. Does He see a Church -whose members have taught the little children on the -Sunday afternoon to love Him better; a Church which -has made men whose faith in Him was nearly crushed -out by sinful practices think again of Christ and -heaven; a Church which has put a man once more on -his feet, and given him to his wife and children, and -they have been glad because the father and husband -has loved them again? How can it but be that those -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">{132}</a></span> -who fight for Him should rejoice when a Church is thus -acting for God, as compared with a Church that does -nothing? Oh, if we could but believe and feel, when -we come into church on a Sunday morning, that Jesus -is watching all that is going on—watching to see -if our hearts are made more soft and tender, more -reverent and gentle, more full of kind thoughts to those -who sit round about us—watching to see if we speak -a kind word—watching to see if we resolve to do more -for Him—watching to see if we can give liberally to -help in what is being done for Him, and to support -those who have special gifts for special work! The -Lord Jesus has His eyes upon us in this spiritual -Church framework. It does bind us together, and, -thank God! I will say of ourselves has bound us together -for much good work, and I believe will bind us -more closely together. If every Sunday morning we -only felt and believed it, and came and knelt and -praised, and listened with light in our hearts, we should -do our work well and have the reward of very faithful -servants.</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">{133}</a></div> - -<h2>V.<br /> -<i>A LESSON IN CHRISTIAN HELP.</i></h2> - -<p class="small">"Wherefore lift up the hands which hang down, and the -[en]feeble[d] knees; and make straight [smooth] paths for [with] -your feet, lest that which is lame be turned out of the way; but -let it rather be healed [or, in order that that which is lame may not -be caused to go astray, but may rather be healed]."—<span class="smc">Heb.</span> xii. 12, 13.</p> - -<p class="drop-cap">SUBJECTED to severe and harassing persecution -on account of their Christian faith, and plied by -subtle arguments and doubts, which had all the more -seductive powers from the immunity from suffering -which would be gained by yielding to them, the members -of the Church to whom this letter was addressed -had become discouraged, depressed, perplexed, and -some, staggered and tempted, were even in danger of -renouncing their allegiance to Jesus of Nazareth. After -warning them of the doom and misery of deserting the -cross of Christ, inciting them to endurance by the long -and shining roll of patriarchs, prophets, martyrs, and -by the example of the dying Saviour, the Apostle explains -to them how all this trial and suffering is the -chastening of Fatherly love, destined to bring forth -the peaceable fruit of righteousness, and finally exhorts -them to rise above their despondency and enfeeblement, -to advance with strong, unwavering faith in the -right path, in order that thereby those who were -crippled by doubt or temptation might be saved from -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">{134}</a></span> -straying quite away, helped over their difficulties, and -in the end restored to firm and abiding faith.</p> - -<p>The command in the text assumes the existence of -two classes in the Church—those that need help, that -must lean on others, and those who are able and ought -to give help and support. Just as in a flock of sheep, -so in the Church, there will be some strong, vigorous, -active, and others weak, feeble-kneed, lame. Let us -recognise this fact honestly, and be prepared to face it. -Differences and degrees of faith, assurance, consistency, -there are and must be. When the Church of -Christ is oppressed by persecution, seduced by temptation, -assailed by unbelief, do not be amazed to find -that some spirits will be crippled, drawn away into -wrong, just on the very point of being altogether perverted, -and remember that there ought to be others -who, by their indomitable perseverance, their immovable -faith, the unbroken solidarity and persistence of their -march, shall support and carry forward in safety those -who, but for such environment and protection, if left to -combat solitary and unaided, had stumbled and fallen -in the storm of persecution and seduction, or been -clean swept away by the waves of doubt and unbelief.</p> - -<p>There are ever these two classes among the followers -of Jesus—the strong, the brave, the helpful, the steadfast; -the weak, the timorous, the dependent, the wavering. -Brother, to which of these do you belong? Answer -that question honestly, and then think what you should -reply to this other question: To which class ought you -to belong?</p> - -<p>I am confident if Christian men and women would -but enrol themselves not according to their meaner -and unworthier inclinations, but in accordance with the -voice of duty and the promptings of all that is most -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">{135}</a></span> -noble and generous in them, we should not have (as -we do now) in the army of Christ the vast majority -ranking as incapable and non-efficient, while only a -small minority do the fighting and defending. Clearly -my text supposes that the mass will be strong and -helpful, with only one or two feeble, incompetent; just -as in a flock of sheep the greater number are healthy, -whole, and able-bodied, while only a few are disabled -and lamed. It should be so in all our congregations. -Perhaps in some the ideal is fairly realised. But -looking at the Church as a whole, do I exaggerate in -thinking that there are many, very many, who ought -to be able-bodied and aidful, but who regard themselves -as exonerated from active service, as incompetent to -take part in any way in the warfare of the Cross, as -persons to be defended, not to help in the defence?</p> - -<p>How is it with each of you? What is your habitual -attitude when goodness, truth, righteousness, Christ are -assailed? In some social or intellectual company where -the followers of Christ are in the minority, or it may be -where you stand quite alone, you hear virtue or purity -sneered at, condemned; or justice and mercy ridiculed, -discredited; or the faith in things unseen rudely -mocked and denied. Do you then always bravely -speak out for the glory and majesty of purity and goodness, -for the reality and grandeur of God and Christ? -or do you yield to the craven cowardice that lurks -even in regenerate men, and, saying it is for ministers, -or apologists, or the strong and clever to defend Christ, -meanly hold your peace? So far from dreaming -that you are bound to defend the truth, you perhaps -pity yourself for being subjected to such trial, and -admire your own fidelity, that can survive such assaults. -Instead of feeling yourself a coward, you rather regard -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">{136}</a></span> -yourself as a martyr, a person much to be commiserated -and admired, and wonder how the Lord should so -heartlessly expose your faith to such trials, while all -the time you are in reality a weak, ignoble recreant. -But you may say, "What! am I to speak when I -know that I should only be ridiculed, laughed at, beaten -in argument, when I am certain my effort would be -defeated, rejected with ignominy?" But there is no -necessity you should argue; nay, if your arguments -will be foolish or weak it is your duty to keep them -to yourself. But you are not bidden to argue, prove, -demonstrate anything; only you are to confess, to protest -against evil, and loyally side with the truth. And if -you are not to do that except when you know you will -be applauded and triumphant, what of your Master's -conduct? He was laughed at, scorned, despised, rejected, -defeated, and He knew it all from the first. -Brother, you are to "follow Him" in all He did, and -so you are to stand by the truth even when you know -it will only bring scorn, scoffs, defeat, failure on you. -Nevertheless be sure in such a defeat and failure only -you shall suffer. As in Christ's death, though He dies, -the truth triumphs, and the crown of thorns becomes a -crown of glory.</p> - -<p>This sin of selfish indolence, of weak-minded inaction, -carries its own penalty with it. Who of us has not -learned the terrible retribution by bitter experience? -If you who ought to have been strong, who ought to -have defended your Lord, were guilty of timidly shirking -your duty, of feebly failing to declare your faith, -then your faith will seem to you a poor, weakly thing, -and Christianity itself feeble and infirm. In these days -of outspoken unbelief, of staggering attack, and of -widespread defection, if you think only of yourself, feel -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">{137}</a></span> -no obligation of defence, yield aggrievedly to terror -and alarm, regarding yourself as wronged in being -exposed thus, and reproaching others who, you think, -ought to have been able to silence such foes and quite -shelter you from seduction, then your faith will be -shaken, your hands hang down, and your knees tremble. -But if you felt yourself bound to be considerate of -others, to be one of the strong, not one of the feeble, to -defend the infirm and the timid, how different it would -be with yourself! you would have courage, faith, -strength; in this fashion doing the will of God, you -would learn that the doctrine was of God.</p> - -<p>In the case of Christianity men act as they would be -ashamed to act in other situations. You who are so -given over to alarms, so hopeless of the faith, suppose -you were in a ship that has sprung a leak, how should -you act? Should we find you among the timid and -the hysterical, who lose head and heart, refuse to help -at the pumps, fling themselves in despair on the deck, -and do their best to dishearten and impede the brave -men who, keeping their misgivings to themselves, toil -on with bravery to try and save the lives of all? There -are some constituted with such despondent, enfeebled -nerves as to be excusable for such conduct, but in the -Christian Church there are many with no such justification, -who shake their heads gloomily, cry despairingly -that the Church is in danger, the faith abandoned, do -their utmost to weaken and dispirit their brethren, all -the time never dreaming how weak and cowardly is -their conduct, or that they ought rather to be comforters, -helpers, defenders.</p> - -<p>The cause of this ignoble conduct seems to me to -consist in the fact that many Christians have got to see -only one side of Christianity, and that the selfish or -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">{138}</a></span> -personal side. They have learned that by becoming -Christ's He undertakes to save them, but they have -failed to apprehend that, on the other hand, this relation -involves that they are to serve Him. Again, their -notion of what is implied in entering the membership -of the Church is quite as one-sided. They consider that -the purpose of this tie is that you may be cared for, -guarded, developed by the Church—all which is true; -but then they quite fail to see that also you are bound -to aid, defend, and protect the Church. How many -Christians are there who never dream of owing any -duty to the Church, but consider it to be simply constructed -for the purpose of doing everything for them -needful for salvation. Within it they are to be surrounded -by sanctifying influences, fed by ordinances, -guarded in its holy atmosphere from the world's miasma; -in a word, they are to be fostered, preached to, prayed -for, visited, tended, and all the time they have nothing -whatever to do for the Church. But while all -this is done by the Church, that is not the only nor -the cardinal conception of either the Church or its -members. Brethren, the Church of Christ is a great -army of valiant and able-bodied soldiers, sent out to -battle with evil, led on by officers who ought indeed -to encourage and care for the men, but whose main -duty, nevertheless, is to lead them to conflict and conquest. -According to this modern notion, that Church -members are to do nothing but be cared for and protected, -the Church is made to be more a sort of great -nursery or convalescent hospital, provided with a staff -of doctors, nurses, and visitors, and the Church members -are not soldiers, but rather a sect of weaklings, invalids, -and infirm, who are just kept in life by ceaseless care -and nursing.</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">{139}</a></div> - -<p>From this mistaken and perverted notion of what it -means to belong to Jesus Christ, from the miserable -failure to recognise the public and primary obligations -resting on all the Lord's followers, from forgetting that -the kingdom of God is founded not merely to foster -and ripen those in it for heaven, but that they may -extend its conquering boundaries over all the world; -from these unhappy errors spring the impotency, the -half-heartedness, the dispirited timidity of so large a -part of the Church in the present day. This is the -origin of that general sort of notion as if we should -be thankful if Christians just survived; as if it were -natural and changeless that the Church should be -despised and scorned; as if against unbelief Christianity -should not venture to raise her voice very -assuredly, but stand on the defensive, and be thankful -if she can just hold her own; as if it were natural and -normal that Christians should find their faith hard -pressed, hardly able to stand its ground, and they -themselves feel weak, timid, alarmed, and helpless.</p> - -<p>But perchance you may be inclined to defend this -state of mind and this selfish notion of Christianity; -nay, you may think that you have Scripture on your -side. In opposition to the assertion that in place of -being merely cared for, you are to fight, and in place -of being timid, you are to be brave, you may recall the -fact that Christ compares His people to sheep whom -He shelters safely and tends in a snug fold, free from -struggle and terror; and urge that sheep are not suggestive -of combativeness, and that it is natural for them -to tremble when a lion roars outside, and to count on -the shepherd driving the evil beast away, while nobody -expects them to face the ravager. But do you not see -that our Lord meant that comparison to illustrate only -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">{140}</a></span> -His relationship to them and His treatment of them? -while if you are to infer from it also that He meant -them, in their attitude to the world and unbelief, to be -timid and helpless as sheep, then how do you explain -that elsewhere they are compared to soldiers, commanded -to be valiant, fearless, daring? If they are to -do no fighting, then why are they told to put on the -whole armour of God, to be faithful unto death, to -endure hardness as good soldiers of Jesus Christ? -Ah, we are very fond of these pleasant, comfortable -comparisons, and are constantly perverting them by -misapplying them to positions they have nothing to do -with. But you may reply, "Did not our Lord say -Himself, to His disciples, that He sent them out as -sheep among wolves?" Yes, indeed, but only to -inform them of what treatment they might expect from -the world, not surely with the intention of indicating -that they were to meet the world's hostility as a sheep -meets a wolf's, cowering, trembling, fleeing. If He -meant that they were to be timid, helpless, sheeplike, -why did He say also, "I give you power to tread on -serpents and scorpions and over all the power of the -enemy"? why did He send them out to conquer the -world? How was it that the disciples so thoroughly -misunderstood the command? When Peter, facing the -hostile judges, avowed that he would obey God, and -not them, that was not timid, that was not sheeplike. -When Paul fought with wild beasts at Ephesus, that, -too, was not at all in the manner of a sheep among its -foes. When the Apostle, in the same Epistle, bids the -readers resist unto blood, when you remember how so -many of our Lord's followers have indeed sealed their -witness with their lives, surely it is plain that we have -forgotten one side of our Christian duty. We ought to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">{141}</a></span> -be "wise as serpents" in dealing with the foe, "harmless -as doves" to our brethren and friends; but that is -very much inverted now, and the chief characteristic -of many a soldier of the Cross is just his perfect harmlessness -in the combat. Brethren, you look for the -crown of righteousness that sparkled before Paul's -closing eyes, bright amid the gathering shades of his -martyr death. But that crown was not gained without -hazard, not won by slothful ease, but earned on many -a bloody, painful field, while he "fought the good fight." -Believe me, there shall be no crown for you unless, -like Paul, you too have fought that fight, and kept that -faith, for which he bravely lived and bravely died.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless there will always be among Christ's -disciples those that are weak-handed, feeble-kneed, and -lame; some permanently and constitutionally affected -with feebleness and infirmity; and now and again a -strong one maimed, injured by extreme and undue -exposure, or crippled by some untoward accident. It -was so among these Hebrew Christians. Intimidated -by persecution, disheartened by the spoiling of their -goods, shaken by the arguments of unbelief, several -grew less steadfast in their confession of Christ, others -were perplexed and confused, and some were just on -the verge of deserting and abandoning the faith. -Among us there is no more imprisoning, goods spoiling -and persecution to stagger our faith in Christ, but -there are instead a whole world of seductions, of discouragements, -of mockeries, and of unbelieving sneers. -Still, too, there are with us the weak, the maimed, -the misled; many who never have attained to much -spirituality or consistency; others who for a time went -well, but became entangled in the mazes of the world's -sinful attractions, or were overtaken by sudden temptation, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">{142}</a></span> -enfeebled by persistent opposition and ridicule, -paralysed by difficulties, disappointments, doubts, or -unbelief.</p> - -<p>I wish we did more fully realise and constantly -remember that there are to be among Christ's own -ones really such as these, weaklings, cripples, tempted, -fallen; brethren overtaken by snares, seductions, unbelief, -whom we ought to pity, whom we ought to help. -Only it is needful to bear in mind that we are not to -conclude that every one who gives himself out as such -is really a wounded brother, to be sympathised with and -aided. For there are many who only imagine themselves -distressed, who give themselves out as greatly -tried and buffeted, more from a kind of mental hypochondriasis -or foolish fondness for being talked of and -fussed over. This is especially so in the matter of -doubt and religious difficulty. For just as it happens -that in the fashionable world it is sometimes proper to -have a lisp or limp, in imitation of some dignitary, so, -unfortunately, at the present day it has become fashionable -to go halt of one foot in faith; and there are -persons, thoroughly excellent and orthodox in reality, -who are impelled to let all their acquaintances know -what dark struggles of soul they pass through, and of -how much it costs them to face the unbelieving spectres -of their minds. Brethren, when a man has a real skeleton -in his closet he does not go round the circle of his -friends, flaunting that unpleasant fact in their faces. -When a man tells you, with a smile of complacent -superiority on his face, of his conflicts with doubt, you -need not expend much sympathy or anxiety on him; -like all other affectations, this one may be left to die a -natural death. No, the man to whom doubt is a real -spectre, a veritable agony, does not blazon his pain -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">{143}</a></span> -abroad; like Jacob's wrestle with his dread midnight foe, -the real soul-struggles are fought out in darkness and -alone. It is these who are truly stricken, wounded, -well-nigh carried away—these, and these alone, whom -you are asked to pity and to help.</p> - -<p>But as a matter of fact, how do we Christian men and -women who have not fallen treat such weaker brethren, -I mean persons who have really been crippled, really -erred? The text very plainly implies that we are not -to cast them off, but to compassionate them and seek -to recover them. Nay, mere human kindness would -require the same. As soldiers seek to rescue, not to -slay, a comrade well-nigh carried off by the foe, so -surely we Christians should not attack, but strive to -regain a brother captured in the meshes of temptation -or unbelief. And no doubt to a very large extent -true Christians do act so, though I fear not with that -unvarying pitifulness that ought to extend the same -charity to all. Do we not make unrighteous differences, -leaving room for restoration to some of the erring, and -closing heart and door against others? Partly from -thoughtlessness, partly from prejudice, partly from contempt -of what is weakness or cowardice, there are some -falling, straying souls whom we treat too much like -those evil animals that whenever one of the herd is -wounded or crippled fall upon the victim and tear him -in pieces. When we hear of a brother falling, doubting, -denying, have we not all sometimes felt only anger, -reprobation—nay, uttered sharp, cruel, merciless words -of final condemnation and irretrievable doom? Do we -not often treat erring ones so? It is very natural, for -these feeble-handed, weak-kneed, crippled ones are an -eye-sore, unpleasant to have to do with, a discredit to -the Church and the most convenient plan is to cast them -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">{144}</a></span> -off. Nevertheless, it is most inhuman, most unchristian, -and can only spring from one of two errors. Either you -do not have that fraternal love for all your brethren in -Christ which you ought to have. When your brother -after the flesh, or your son, catches a deadly complaint (it -may be through his own recklessness and disobedience), -or is wounded by some hostile assault, you do not in -anger cast him out to die, for you love him. Would -God we had more love among Christians! Or it may be -the reason of your harsh treatment is that you mistake -your straying, doubting brother for an enemy, and fail -to see that he is a victim. Of course there is a great -distinction between one of Christ's little ones swept -into doubt, and a hostile, malignant unbeliever, seeking -to harm the flock. This last you must indeed oppose, -and seek to drive out of the fold, though even then you -will feel for him as our Lord did when He wept over -Jerusalem, and on the cross prayed, "Father, forgive -them." But it is not of such we speak now, only of -those who are themselves not wolves, but wounded, -wandered sheep. Remember, therefore, that they are -your brethren, and pity and help them.</p> - -<p>Perhaps you say, "What! can it be right to feel -pity, kindness, compassion, love for men who have gone -astray from Christ, rebelled against the Master, forsaken -and denied the Saviour?" Remember how Jesus -treated the eleven, who deserted Him, Peter, who denied -Him, Thomas, who would not believe. Nay, more, can -you for one moment doubt the rightfulness of feeling so -to sinning brethren, be they as bad as they may, and of -treating them so, you who do believe that from all -eternity God set His love, compassion, saving purpose -on sinners—rebellious, hateful sinners—without one -spark of merit or goodness in them to deserve it? -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">{145}</a></span> -Brethren, it is not wrong, it is not weak, it is noble, -Christlike, Godlike to pity, to love, to tenderly seek and -save the lost, the sinning, the erring, the fallen.</p> - -<p class="gap-above">Finally, remark how the text suggests that you are -to render them assistance and support. Suppose it is -a brother becoming involved in worldly or dangerous -entanglements, lapsing into doubtful courses, or yielding -to the freezing influence of ungodly or sceptical companions. -Now, direct interference, immediate intervention, -is not always possible, is often difficult, sometimes -impossible. Besides, often the mischief is already done -ere you perceive it. Or again, it is intellectual difficulty -or doubt that you have to deal with. To meet the -objections, to remove the doubts, would be well, but -perchance you are not skilled, competent to do that; -or it may be they are such as cannot be removed. -Here, again, direct remedies may be impracticable. Are -you, then, powerless, helpless to aid? Far from it. -A method better than all immediate and special action -lies open for you, for all Christian men and women. -"Make straight, smooth paths with your feet." It may -be you cannot personally do anything to support the -maimed or arrest the erring, but you can nevertheless -render most important service. As a flock of sheep, by -all moving on regularly in one united mass, with their -feet smooth down the roughnesses and entanglements -of the way, breaking down the entrapping brambles, -clearing away the furze and tripping briers, leaving -behind them a plain and open track, trodden down and -freed of obstructions, stones, and stumbling-blocks, so -that the weak and crippled are not turned aside or -overthrown; so if the strong and whole body of Christian -men and women will but move steadfastly on amid -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">{146}</a></span> -the mazes of temptation and over the stumbling-stones -of evil, the feeble, tempted, erring will be helped -forward, and, borne along in the united, combined -advance, will not fall behind or be baffled, overthrown, -or led astray by difficulties and impediments. Yes, -infinitely more powerful than any isolated rebuke, or -warning, or intervention, is the force of united Christian -example and protecting aid, to keep in the right path -the halt, the maimed, the blind. What the tempted, -the world-seduced, the doubting, the unbelieving need -is not rebukes, cautions, exhortations, refutations of -objections, but it is to be drawn out of the cold, freezing -world of evil and doubt into the warm, living, breathing -atmosphere of loving, real Christian fellowship; to be -surrounded by the resistless progression in rectitude, in -faith and love, of Christlike, God-fearing souls. With -blows of reprimand and logical argument you may -pound and break the ice of sin and unbelief, but though -broken, it remains cold, winter ice, freezing still. Bring -it into the summer radiance, the golden sunshine of -warm Christian life; then it will be melted away, and -the hard heart grow soft and tender in the breath of -the all-quickening Spirit.</p> - -<p>Brethren, it is for this that the Master has gathered -us into families and homes, friendly circles and fellowships, -congregations and churches. It is because some -of His own will be very weak, timid, facile to fall, -lukewarm, tempted, erring, doubting. Have you settled -it with yourself, strong, high-principled, undoubting -Christian, that the Church is not a club of stainless, -perfect souls, but that there are to be in it such foolish, -feeble, ignoble ones, real doubters, backsliders, wanderers, -and that yet they are your brethren, little ones -of the common Lord? And it is just for their sake, that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">{147}</a></span> -they may be saved, that He has caused us to be knit -together into one flock, that they may be kept from -falling, restored when they err, strengthened, cheered, -loved, and helped. Ah, we know not for the most part -how much there is of strength and comfort for us in -this! For all of us there is, for even the very strong, -they that have comforted most, sometimes will be very -weak themselves, and long for sympathy and support. -Once even the blessed Master Himself in broken-hearted -agony besought that help, and prayed His -followers, "Tarry ye here, and watch with Me." My -brother, if you can remember a time when you were -enabled to endure, to conquer, because Christian -friends stood around you and watched with you, then -be pitiful to your tempted brother now. It may be that -his limping, stumbling gait is very unpleasant to you, -and you do not care to be known as of his company; his -halt, ungainly walk does not look well beside your high, -triumphal march. Perchance in heaven there is more -good pleasure over his paltry pace than over your proud -progress. Ah, friends, we see too little now to judge, -who know not one another's hurts and trials! We who -have the sunshine on our path, and bounding vigour in -our tread, forget, I fear, how to many struggling souls -the path is very flinty, rough, and hard, swept by wild -storms of passion and rushing floods of fierce temptation; -while the thick darkness and awful solitude, -haunted by mocking spectres of death-like doubts and -fears, wrap them round with a chill, paralysing shroud -of despair. You who have never been so tempted, give -God thanks and be humble, very humble, and lowly, and -merciful. Have infinite forbearance and compassion. -Remember that one harsh word, one hopeless look -from you may numb a last feeble grasp on goodness, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">{148}</a></span> -and sink a brother despairing in the black abyss; while -a kindly look, a helping hand, a loving, free, generous -pardon and word of hope from you may be to him the -voice of eternal forgiveness in heaven, and power of -restoration even now.</p> - -<p>Brethren, when, against some brother who has fallen, -sinned or gone astray, quick anger flames in your heart, -and to your lips sharp, cutting words of reprobation -leap, let this word of Christ ring in your ears: "Whoso -shall offend one of these little ones which believe in Me, -it were better for him that a millstone were hanged -about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth -of the sea." And as that word of dreadful condemnation -awes each lurid spark of hasty anger from your soul, -let these words of endless peace, and joy, and mercy -steal in, and soften all your spirit into gentlest pity, -tenderness, and love: "Brethren, if any of you do -err from the truth, and one convert him; let him know, -that he which converteth the sinner from the error of -his way shall save a soul from death, and shall hide a -multitude of sins." "Wherefore let us lift up the -hands which hang down, and the feeble knees; and let -us make straight paths with our feet, lest that which is -lame be turned out of the way; but let it rather be -healed."</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">{149}</a></div> - -<h2>VI.<br /> -<i>JOSEPH'S FAITH.</i><span class="fnanchor"><a name="Ref_1" id="Ref_1" -href="#Foot_1">[1]</a></span></h2> - -<p class="small">"By faith Joseph, when he died, made mention of the departing -of the children of Israel; and gave commandment concerning his -bones."—<span class="smc">Heb.</span> xi. 22.</p> - -<p class="drop-cap">FAITH is a word that we hear a great deal of in -theological exposition and in religious teaching. It -is a good thing constantly to remind ourselves of what -its actual meaning is. The 11th chapter of this Epistle -begins with a definition of faith, and then gives -examples of it. The definition is a little hard to understand; -nobody can misunderstand the illustrations. -According to the inspired writer, faith is recognising -the will of God, taking it and doing it; that is faith, -and nothing else is—no theories about God, no rules, -and laws, and definitions about God's government of -the world, no intellectual adherence to any explanation -of theology. Faith, real and living, means that the -God who comes into contact with you in your life and -your world has a will, and shows it to you. If you bow -down before that actual will of God, that it may save -you from your real sins, and that He may use you -in saving the dead around you; if you adore it, and -worship it, and account it the best thing in your life, -and give yourself up to it, as the one thing worth -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">{150}</a></span> -doing, though there be many a forsaking and many -a return to God, if you hold on through your life, doing -the will of God, then you are a man of faith.</p> - -<p>Joseph was a man of faith, in the olden times, all -his life long. From his very boyhood he had possessed -faith. In the dreams that came to him as a lad -he welcomed God's face, not quite understanding all He -meant, and a little misusing the high vocation that -came to him, accepting it in the pride of his heart. In -his trials and his prosperity, in his public career, in his -private home life, on his death-bed, he lived with God, -reckoned with God, and loved God, and tried to do -God's will on the earth. One deed stands out supreme -and stupendous. Joseph on his dying bed looked -forward into the future, and there, amidst the mists, -discerned the promise of the world's redemption, forecast -the coming of God's kingdom on earth, and chose -what to him was the greatest and grandest thing in his -dying, and so gave commandment for the burying of -his bones away in distant Canaan.</p> - -<p>I am going to ask you to follow me as I rapidly -sketch the great outstanding elements of struggle and -triumph in Joseph's career, in order that I may show -you the splendid feature of faith, and that in dying he -was still loyal to the dreams of his youth. Joseph -was a younger son. He had the misfortune to be his -father's favourite; he was exempted from hard toil; -he was kept near his old father; his brethren hated -him for it; probably he misbehaved himself; he was -no saint, else there would be no good in my preaching -about him. He had the misfortune to be spoiled by his -father. He had intelligence, and he was wide awake; -but there was nothing in the early years of the lad to -give evidence of any extraordinary ability, or to forecast -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">{151}</a></span> -any splendid career for him, with the exception of one -thing: Joseph was a great dreamer in his sleep; and -as a boy he woke up from his sleep, and saw visions, -glorious castles in the air; and they were not all floating -away in cloudland, high up above him, but he saw -<i>himself</i> in them; they had an intense personal interest -for him. Perhaps he was very injudicious, and probably -disagreeable, in the tone and fashion of telling -these dreams to his brothers. Their sheaves in the -harvest gathered round and made obeisance to his -sheaf; the meaning plainly being that he was to rise -to great power, that he would hold them in his hand, -and be lord and master over them. They might not -have much interest for us; but Joseph belonged to a -family that believed that they held a unique position in -the world's history, and that they were to bring a great -blessing into this world. They had not grasped exactly -what it was, nor understood the significance of the -spiritual kingdom of heaven; but none the less they -heard God's voice around them, so that this world -became to them a place in which He lived and moved: -thus they rose to the grandeur of the conception that -they were to have a master hand in carving the fortunes -of the world. Out of many of his brethren, God had -selected Joseph to be an inheritor and administrator -of the Divine purpose of blessing to the world, and to -do unique deeds of valour for the kingdom of God.</p> - -<p>Now I have said that the one remarkable thing about -Joseph's boyhood, the one thing that might excite your -expectation about his future, was that he dreamt -dreams; he was a great dreamer in his youth. I can -understand many a shrewd, practical man saying that -that was not much to his credit: "A lad that is always -dreaming dreams will not do much." Quite true, if -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">{152}</a></span> -the one, the only purpose of life is to eat and drink -and to gather all the dirt together with the muck-rake; -but if man has a Divine destiny in him, if man lives in -two worlds—a world that you see with your eyes, a -world where money is current, and another world where -your sovereigns are worth nothing, a world of truth and -honour, generosity, love, goodness, self-denial, moral -achievement and victory, then it comes to a great deal; -it means very much for a boy's future if he has dreams -that are not of earth, but of heaven. There are dreams -and dreams. There are dreams that come of laziness, -idleness, selfishness, and over-feeding, gross nightmares, -fit for swine; dreams coming of self-indulgence and -worldliness, poor grovelling things; a man's mind is -not much better for <i>them</i>. There are dreams that are -born of a back-boneless sentimentality, of sweet mock -chivalry, that loves to represent itself in pretty pictures; -not much good comes of them. But there are other -dreams, that come out of a man's wide-awake activity; -dreams that are the vapours rising from a fervent -spirit, from the cooling of the machinery. They work -out the character that God is weaving in that lad or in -that young girl. These dreams are prophetic; they -have something of heaven in them; they are something -higher than the common: from God they come; they -are the threads and fibres by which He would lead us -on to do great deeds on earth, and at last receive us as -faithful and good servants of our Master. I do believe -in the dreams of youth, that come in at that window -which is open heavenward in every young soul, until -the dust and dirt of earth cloud it over; the dreams of -romance, that stupid old people try to crush and drive -out, and that the world puts its heel upon; those -dreams of friendship and honour, of truth and purity, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">{153}</a></span> -to be chosen rather than worldly gain; those dreams -of love, generous and tender, that shall make two lives -knit together into one of exceptional tenderness and -goodness. There is the breath of heaven here; these -are the golden glows in the mists of life's morning, that -come from God, and are the guarantees of a splendid -sunset on earth, and beyond, a brighter dawn in -heaven. Would to God that all of us, when we are -old men and women, may be able to think without -shame and remorse about the dreams of our youth; -that the woman has been true to her dreams, and has -fulfilled the sweet, unselfish ideals of her girlhood, and -been a noble, loving wife and mother; that the lad has -come through this world, at least comparatively unspotted, -with a heart fresh and tender, not eaten up by -selfishness and greed, with a clean conscience, with the -benediction in his old age of having made other men -happy and good. Oh, the worst enemies of your -dying bed, that will come to mock you, will be the -dreams of your youth, of your boyhood and girlhood, -should they be unfulfilled! But if you can only in part -realise them in your life they will be angels that will -come to comfort you.</p> - -<p>There is a great deal more dreaming done in this -world than we dull, prosaic, old people will allow. It -is not merely the lads and girls that dream, for the fact -is that we do not know how much we ourselves dream; -both young and old do it, but with a difference: the -young folks mostly dream about themselves, and the -old folks are tired of dreaming about themselves; but -there are the wonderful dreams in the hearts of fathers -and mothers, to keep their children pure and good, and -to make them happy. What would the world be without -those sweet, loving dreams? Thank God for them! -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">{154}</a></span> -How much it means for the boy and the girl that their -mother dreamt noble things for them when they were -young! There never was a man yet that came to be a -very great or good man in God's world but his mother -dreamt how he was to be brave, true, generous, loving, -helpful to others; and because her dreams came from -God, she prayed for that son that he might be good, -and brave, and noble, and the lad grew great because -his mother dreamt great things for him.</p> - -<p>There is a sad experience that almost all young folks -must come to: the day which breaks so shiningly, with -such sweet promise of goodness, nearly always clouds -over and grows dark and stormy; the dreams get broken, -the dreams that hover over you and seem so easy to -reach, recede farther and farther, like one of those -Alpine peaks when you are trying to climb it. From -the village you start from, you see a peak which you -think must be the summit, but when you reach it, it is -only to find yourself separated from a far higher ridge -by a valley, which you have to descend in order to reach -it, and you have no sooner climbed up again than you -realise that this, again, is but an intermediate peak. -How toilsome, how weary it is! but in the same way -dreams would be worth nothing if you had not to win -them by struggle and battle. It is the tedium of the -contest, I suppose, that disheartens most. It is not -easy for young hearts to wait for the fulfilment of life's -promise till it can be achieved honestly. Joseph is -trapped in a pit, betrayed by his brethren, sold to slave-merchants, -settled in an Egyptian house, becomes the -bond-slave of Potiphar, torn from father, from his own -country, from his God, Who had not interfered to -protect him, a bond-slave, his dignity gone, all the pride -of life gone! Would it have been wonderful if all the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">{155}</a></span> -heart had gone out of him too—if he had said that God -had forgotten him—"My dreams were a delusion; there -is nothing worth living for"? Are there young men -and women here whose hearts are aching very bitterly, -and who are tempted to think that there is no outlet to -this slavery of life? How did Joseph look at it? He -might have broken down, and got wild with despair, -and said to himself, "I will become demoralised;" but -though he lay down at night tired, yet he was cheerful, -and still dreamt his old dreams, and God was over him. -If a man is true to himself and to his God he will -come through anything; if he will be man enough, if -he will not be beaten, if he will make the best of things, -he <i>must</i> conquer. So presently Joseph reached a better -position, things began to look up a little, his master -marked his spirit, and made him his chief slave.</p> - -<p>A lad who had dreamt of being a ruler and king of -men, so that his father would bow before him for what -he could do for him, how terrible it must have been -for the boy to be sold as a slave! How terribly he must -have been tempted to say, "God has deceived me; He -made me to dream dreams, and here I am left in a -dungeon, a slave: I cannot get what I want honourably; -I will get it dishonourably; I will snatch the -fruit of life, even if it be in defiance of what God and -good men call right"! That is the temptation that -drives many a lad to dishonesty and treachery, and -many a girl to bitterness and sin. It came to Joseph -in the deadliest form. The mistress of the household -made overtures to him which, had he accepted them, -would have meant immediate promotion, perhaps to -the court; for her husband was the chief of Pharaoh's -body-guard. Could there have been devised a deadlier -temptation for that poor, homeless boy, so treacherously -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">{156}</a></span> -treated by those who should have loved him—who -had dreamt such dreams, and had such proud ambitions, -and withal no danger of discovery if he would -but take the path that opened up the way of promotion? -I think that was the crisis in Joseph's life; that was -the supreme deed which determined his destiny. Then -it was that he had to stand, and stand for ever, for -God and good, or to fall and sink for ever into ruin. -And what saved him? I will tell you what saved him. -When Fortune tells a clerk that he has but to take a -little of his master's money, which he can repay very -soon, and she will smile on him, what he will do all -depends upon his past. Those dreams of Joseph's -meant everything to him at that great moment. If -his dreams had been of the flesh, if his dreams had -been base, and selfish, and sordid, and of grasping -the world's gains, honourably if possible, but anyway -grasping them, he could not have stood. But that boy -had dreamt of being a prince, a king among men; he -had dreamt of a noble, stainless manhood, of self-respect, -and honour, and truth; and he had dreamt of God -caring about him, of God choosing him to be His -instrument in this world; he was a lad in whose soul -the whispers of childhood's prayers and of morning -devotions murmured, with sweet echoes of heaven. -A lad on whose head still rests the soft pressure of -the blessing of his Father in heaven is no game for -the devil. Joseph turned from that temptation without -a moment's faltering; he said to himself, "Be a traitor -and a knave! stain my soul and my manhood with -this foul lust!"—and in the presence and the sight of -God he conquered; he was loyal to the dreams of his -youth, and the result was that he went to prison.</p> - -<p>Young men and women, do you sigh? You would -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">{157}</a></span> -fight the battles of life bravely enough, and resist its -temptations, if there were a fair field and no favour; -but treachery and dishonesty are saturating everything. -It is not the best men who get the best wages. -The whole city is full of cheating. I am afraid it is so, -for many good men have told me they could hardly -keep their hands clean. When you hear of a lad -going to the bad, for God's sake be just; be not hard -on him; it is but the common immorality tolerated -everywhere. But what of that? Are you going to -lose your life, and stain your conscience, because -another has injured you? So long as you do not -injure yourself, never mind; be a man in the image of -God.</p> - -<p>If you come nearer and nearer to that standard it -will be a grander work to do in your lifetime, if you -live in a poor lodging-room till your death, than to -become a millionaire by injustice or cruelty. In prison -Joseph played the man; he was not broken nor -dispirited. And remember what I said about dreams. -Those dreams of his did not allow him to lie down -idly in the prison; he wanted to do everybody's work. -Joseph was industrious, and kept working on because -of his dreams. The keeper of the prison was evidently -a man who was glad to have things managed for him; -and Joseph got promoted in a wonderful way till he -reached the royal court, and aided by perseverance -and intelligence and an untarnished character, he -became the premier, the first prince in the land. And -now followed—what, do you think? Prosperity, peace, -ease? No; immense responsibility, discharged nobly -by Joseph, and perilous temptations. When a man -has overcome the temptations of adversity I can tell -him that he has fought a splendid battle, but the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">{158}</a></span> -deadliest are those that come in the days of prosperity. -The generous deeds that you thought you would do, -when you were a poor clerk, if you were only wealthy—the -help to churches, to missions, to the poor, -where are they? You know the story told in all the -collection sermons about a man who gave liberally -when he was poor, but did not give in the same -proportion when he grew rich, and explained it by -saying that when he was poor he had a guinea heart, -but now it was a penny heart! But Joseph conquers -once more. He loves his cruel brothers tenderly, and -he brings them, with the old father, to the land of -plenty, and tends them. What was his temptation? -It comes out later on, and with it the reason why he -triumphed over it. While the old man lived the -brothers that had betrayed Joseph were safe, because -of his love to his father; but when he dies the brothers -are fearful lest Joseph should wreak his vengeance on -them, and so they come with their whining lie to him; -the old father had told them, they say, to implore -Joseph to be still generous to them. Joseph burst into -tears to think that his brethren had judged so meanly -of him. But to do these men justice, we must confess -that the average man would act as they did. How -came it that Joseph had preserved the heart of his -boyhood amid his Egyptian prosperity? Men and -women, do you want to know the secret of a pure and -loving life? Do you want to know the magic formula -that will lift you up and ennoble your character, so that -it will not occur to you to pay off old wrongs when you -get the chance, the formula that will make you a blessing -to others? It is to open your heart wide to the -sight, and the touch, and the presence of God in your -life and in your world. When I hear wise men, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">{159}</a></span> -men that mean the world good, telling us that we shall -be able to preserve morality when we have ceased to -believe that Jesus had a Father in heaven, when we believe -that we live our little day, and then die and vanish, -and the world goes on as well without us, my heart -sickens within me. Tell men and women that they -are the highest race of beasts, and what motives have -they for being generous and doing noble deeds? Take -away the good Jesus, take away the great high heaven -with its sunshine, crush down a low roof over our -earth, and you crush out life's grandeur. Tell men that -every human spirit has in it something mysterious, -that death means something awful, that their souls are -born for eternity; then life becomes great and solemn, -and the great thought arises that we are born to be the -sons of God.</p> - -<p>And now the last thing in Joseph's life. I think that -when he died all men and women in Egypt were talking -about him, and I am pretty sure they talked about -him as much in a mistaken fashion and with as many -blunders as people will talk about you and me when -we die. There is no man that ever lived yet that was -known to the world; God only knows what we are; -so when we die they are bound to speak of us better -or worse than we deserve, for they will not know you -nor me as we are known to God, as we have lived, and -what has been our purpose in life, how earnestly we -have striven for it; these are known to God, and to -Him only. Thank God, there are more merciful judgments -up there in heaven about us than the kindest on -earth will deliver. I am pretty sure that the Egyptians -all said that Joseph would be proud to be buried in -Egypt. He had lived very nearly all his life there. Had -he not brought his relatives there? Was he not engrossed, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">{160}</a></span> -heart and soul, in Egypt, with not a particle of -interest left for the old land, the old home, and the old -life? We may imagine what would have been the -exclamations of astonishment if the Egyptians could -have listened at the dying bed of the prince and statesman, -and have heard that while all the time he had -been a loyal servant to his royal master, his heart was -nevertheless away in the land of his boyhood, and that -the future he was looking for was not a future of immortality -among the Egyptian dead. "Promise me this -one thing," he says, "that when God takes you back to -the sweet dear land, back to make God's kingdom -there, you will take all that is left of me, that you will -take my bones out of this Egypt, where I have been in -body, but never in spirit." Oh, the grandeur of such -an utterance! All the Egyptian greatness, power in -one of the mightiest empires the world has ever seen, -is as nothing to him compared with the power that his -dreams of sweetness, and goodness, and the service of -God had over him. That is a life that is not broken -in two when death comes.</p> - -<p>Men and women here, who have said your prayers -when you were young, and have stopped praying now; -who have gone into society and given yourselves up to -the world, stop and look at your poor broken life, and -before it is too late come back to where in your childhood -you knelt at God's throne.</p> - -<p>Oh, young men and women that have dreamed -Joseph's dreams, pray to God that you may dream the -dreams of your childhood once more, if you have let -the lust and greed of the world into your heart! Old -men and women, for whom this world is not long, go -back to your childhood, and end your life as you -began it.</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">{161}</a></div> - -<p>This is the supreme thought (and I like to end with -it, for it is a comforting thought too) in the story of -Joseph's life; because I know that there are so many -lives crippled and broken through their own fault, as -well as through the wrongs and injuries of others; -lives dark, and poor, and disappointing; lives that have -no triumph in this world, and find it very hard to keep -up heart, to keep true to hope, and faith, and God. -Listen to the lesson of Joseph's life. No true life of -goodness to man and God can ever be a failure. In a -pit, in a dungeon in far-off Egypt, you may seem to be -shut out of all splendid achievements; wronged and -smitten by the storms of life, it may seem as if God -had left you; but if you can only keep your heart -sweet, and good, and pure; if you can but keep yourself -honourable, and generous, and loving, then, though -God may give you no ties of home life, and all may -appear dark and cheerless; if you can only keep yourself -a good, sweet, loving woman, a brave, true, honourable -man, if you can but hold fast to your faith, there -is a great God over you, there is a Christ who came to -die to save you, there is a holiness which God will give -you. If you will but hold fast to the end—to <i>His</i> end,—then -your life cannot be a failure; its roots are in -God, and its end shall be with God; from heaven you -came, and to God you shall return.</p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="nodent"><a name="Foot_1" id="Foot_1" href="#Ref_1">[1]</a> -Preached on Sunday evening, October 20th, 1889, in St. John's -Wood Presbyterian Church.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">{162}</a></div> - -<h2>VII.<br /> -<i>THE BRAZEN SERPENT.</i></h2> - -<p class="small">"He [Hezekiah] removed the high places, and brake the images, -and cut down the groves, and brake in pieces the brasen serpent -that Moses had made: for unto those days the children of Israel did -burn incense to it: and he called it Nehushtan."—<span class="smc">2 Kings</span> xviii. 4.</p> - -<p class="drop-cap">IN that verse we hear the last of the brazen serpent; -this morning I am going to put before you some -practical thoughts that spring from the whole story. -What has the brazen serpent got to do with our modern -life? The children of Israel, with their cattle and -sheep, wandering about the wilderness, get sick of it, -complain against God and against Moses, and are ready -to break into active rebellion. They are punished by -a sudden attack of venomous serpents that sting them, -and they, in dread of death, lose that sham courage of -theirs and independence, and they appeal to God to -save them. He bids Moses manufacture a mysterious -brazen serpent, put it upon a pole, and then, if any -dying Israelite looks at that serpent it heals him. The -brazen image is regarded ever after as clothed with -great sanctity. It was once the supernatural channel -of life direct from God to dying men, and so, in course -of time, men came to it, and in its vicinity offered up -their prayers, and finally burned incense to it, and -surrounded it with a false worship. Then comes a -reforming king, who regards that symbol of wonderful -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">{163}</a></span> -old power Divine and goodness, that has been turned -into an idolatrous and superstitious instrument of -human degradation; and, divided between his respect -for it and his consciousness of the mischief it is doing, -he finally decides to break it into pieces, scatters it -into the dust, and there is an end of it. Now, what -has all that got to do with your life and mine? The -Hebrew history does not have its meaning lying just -on the face of it. If you take the bare letter you will -not get much out of it; if you stick to the bare letter -you will find yourself landed in a great many difficulties -that are puzzling good people and bad people at the -present day, and all the time, whether you attack those -difficulties with a profound faith or with a doubting, -critical, sceptical spirit, you may be missing the very -heart of the story. Because Hebrew history is manifestly -history written with a purpose. It was never -intended that it should be taken as an exact reporter's -chronicle of external things that happen. The real -interest of the writers is something different; it is to -get down below the surface, in behind the scenes, to -come upon the great hands of God fashioning this -world's story. They felt that beneath all the events, -common and secular, that befell them, the battles they -had to fight, the journeys they had to make, the famines -that destroyed their crops, the outbursts of prosperity, -the victories that were won by them, the lives they -lived in homes like ours—behind and beneath all that -they felt that God held the reins in His hand, that He -Himself was thinking of them, had designs in them, -was shaping and fashioning their fortunes, controlling -all that befell them, and they comprehended that the -greatest thing in this world is to get to know God.</p> - -<p>The people at this point in their story had been -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">{164}</a></span> -wandering about in the wilderness for nearly forty -years; at last they had been led by Moses to the very -edge of the territory of Edom. Nothing lay between -them and the land God had promised them except -the country belonging to their kinsmen, the Edomites. -You can understand how the hearts and faces of the -people were flushed with eager expectation. Oh! they -were so sick of that restless, weary life in the barren -desert, and the pictures were called up before their eyes -in their dreams at night, and in their day visions -through the bright sunny hours, of those smiling vineyards, -those oliveyards, and those waving cornfields in -that land flowing with milk and honey, existing somewhat -in fact, but very much in the imagination of those -who were to be its possessors. Nothing lay between -them and the actual possession and enjoyment but the -country of Edom, so they sent an eager message to -the king, their kinsman, asking leave to pass through -the territory so that they might get at their enemies -and his. The king of Edom doubted them, or he was -churlish, and refused to give them passage. No doubt -every brave young Hebrew warrior went to Moses at -once and said, "Let us force our way through; if -they will not yield us passage we shall make it for -ourselves—we are able, we have the weapons, we have -the spirit; let us get at the homes that are waiting for -us." But then that would have been to enter into the -land of promise with a bloodstain on their conscience, -with a bitter, bad memory, spoiling all the joy of it; -for those Edomites were their blood relations, and blood -meant a vast deal in those old days—even if your -brother treated you ill you must not stain your hands -with his blood. To have your very living and money-making -all corroded with that colour of blood of a near -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">{165}</a></span> -kinsman shed, was to get what your heart longed for, -but to get it spoiled. So Moses, under Divine guidance, -told them, "We must go back into the wilderness, we -must make a big, roundabout march, and reach the land -at some other point." Unwillingly the people agreed; -they packed up all their baggage once again, put their -weapons into their sheaths, turned their backs on the -smiling land of Canaan, and their faces to the arid -stretch of the sandy, scorched wilderness, and set out. -But before they had gone very far their spirit ran short—that -is what the old Hebraist says literally—their -spirit ran down, they could not stand it. Man turned -to man, and said, "This is too hard; more than man -can endure; the thing is intolerable; Moses is blundering; -let us depose our leader and choose generals of -our own, and force our way across Edom into the -Promised Land. What is the use of this God—this -Moses who brought us out of Egypt and kept us in the -wilderness all these weary years—at every new camp -leaving a graveyard behind us, dying man after man, -with no prospect before, no progress made, no goal -reached, no land of rest attained?"</p> - -<p>Now I wonder how many of my hearers to-day are -wandering in the desert just like these Hebrews, and -have been wandering in a wilderness for years and years. -I am pretty sure that that is so with some of you old -folks with white hair on your heads. Ah! it is so very -far away in the Eastern world and in Old Testament -times, this story of these wanderers, never living in a -comfortable house, never owning any land, packing up, -and on again, wondering where they are going to die, -with nothing much to look forward to. Yes, but here -in London, living in your own house, in your own -workshop, there are men and women wandering in the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">{166}</a></span> -wilderness. Ah! what a deal of weary waiting there -is for young men and maidens, in this artificially bad -society of ours at the present day—which has been -made by selfishness much more than by the love of -God and the love of man—waiting with divine instincts -that God has put into their hearts; dreaming of a land -of promise, a land of rest, a land flowing with milk and -honey.</p> - -<p>Ay, it is wandering in a wilderness. Our hearts -were not made to live in a wilderness; our hearts were -made to live in homes; we were all meant to be in a -promised land. There is no need to ask who is to -blame. There the wildernesses are, and they have to -be got through. It is not easy. Many a time the -bravest heart breaks down. The last straw breaks the -camel's back. Some little extra worry or care adds -itself on, and then the gentle woman or the courageous, -uncomplaining man is broken in heart and spirit—oh! -so weary—ay, and if they have a tender conscience, -upbraiding themselves, counting it sin to feel so tired. -Why have they not been doing good? Have they not -been following the steps of Jesus? And there they -are worn out in being good as He was. Do you -remember how sometimes He sighed a great sigh? -how sometimes He was so sick of men and their waywardness -and selfishness and wilfulness, that for His -soul's sake He fled from them and hurried off to the -mountain-top to get away above the world, up beneath -the blue sky into the purer air, up where God was -direct above Him, and He all alone; then came back -next morning all the braver and able to bear the battle -once again? No, do not blame yourself if you are often -very weary. Do not try to pretend that you like your -wilderness, that you do not wish anything different. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">{167}</a></span> -You may have got so used to your wilderness as to -be like those people in the old Bastille. Some of the -prisoners, we are told, were not willing to go into the -world again; they did not know it. So there are hearts -that get so wedded to sorrow that they are almost -afraid to have done with it. Still, as a general rule, -hearts do long for joy, for sunlight, for success. It -is human nature, and there is no harm in being weary -when the clouds are always over the heavens. Christ -was weary, and He understands you and your heart.</p> - -<p>Now, I have willingly allowed myself to run the risk -even of exaggeration in sympathising with the men and -women whose lives are a wilderness, and who are -exposed to these dangers in their weariness, in the -hardness of their battle. But now, precisely because -of that danger, to steel your heart against its temptations, -I am bound to speak about the other side; I am -bound to ask you men and women, whose lives are not -so good and rich as they ought to be, "Is not the blame, -at least somewhat, your own?"</p> - -<p>Why had these Israelites been wandering forty years -in the wilderness? God had led them to the edge of -the Promised Land, and bidden them go in and take it, -and they had not the manhood to do it, they were such -cowards that they trembled, they were craven-hearted; -and so they could not enter because of their unbelief. -Ah! it was no good to turn round on God and blame -Him; it was no good to attack the brave-hearted -Moses; it was their own fault that their life was spent -in the wilderness. But, more than that, we must not -make too much of the hardship, and the pain, and the -weariness of wilderness wandering. It is human nature -to want always sunshine and to hate storms; to love -hours of play and shirk hours of toil; but, after all, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">{168}</a></span> -does not the rain do as much for the corn as the sunshine? -Does not darkness do as much on earth as -light? Do we not need hardness as well as lightness in -our inner lives if we are to make ourselves men and -women? It was years of wandering in the wilderness -that turned those Egyptian slaves into the dauntless -warriors that carried Canaan by storm. Ah! men and -women sitting in the church to-day with your children -round you, do not spoil their lives, but lead them to -live nobly. Was it not when you were kept to your -tasks and toil, when you got your share of the world's -burdens and the world's pain—was it not in the things -least agreeable to you that there were formed within -you elements of character that are doing most to make -your joy to-day? Oh, do not grudge them to your -children, do not grudge them to yourself! God gives -them. Surely it is supreme wisdom to take our life in -its entirety from God, to sing through the whole gamut -of life, the low wailing note of sorrow as well as the -bright, dancing, radiant notes of joy, rejoicing in God -so that the music of our life when it is done shall be -filled with the fulness of that great Heart Divine that -planned and fashioned it.</p> - -<p>There was deadly danger in that murmuring of the -children of Israel. You must not imagine that God -resented it because of the insult to His dignity. God -is above such a feeling as that, He does not resent the -ignorance, with the mixture of superstition, that goes -into the lives, ay, of good men and women, Protestant -or Roman Catholic. He takes men's hearts and their -real life. It was not the insult to Him in their murmurs -that made Him deal with them so strongly. Oh, it was -not sternness at all that dealt with them, it was love -unutterable! They were ready to spoil their lives, to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">{169}</a></span> -rush away on their own plans to make their fortunes, -and so to bring themselves to ruin. Do you know how -God checked them? They were complaining of the -food that they had, and of their long weary marches, -and the heartlessness of their toil in the wilderness, -instead of having comfortable homes and rich farms, -and God cured them by sending among them fiery -serpents that bit them, filled their veins with venom, -agony, and death, and as they lay there writhing in -pain with death looking into their eyes they said, -"What fools we were to repine and complain because -of the bread that was tasteless and the life that was -void of interest." That was God's way of curing men -who were about to spoil their lives by discontent. Is -it not God's way still? You men sitting there, do you -remember that for years you had been bad-hearted, -bitter, discontented, because your life was not great or -famous, till God sent that deadly illness and you lay in -bed like to die, and then you would have given all you -had to get back to that life that you thought so little -of? I have seen the father who made the foolish mistake -of harping too much on the faults and failings of -those who dwelt in his home, not acknowledging the -large amount of good and obedience, but ever making -misery and bitterness there, and thinking himself justified -in doing it, accounting himself an unappreciated, -unrewarded man, till a day came when God sent a fiery -serpent into his heart, when the blinds were drawn -down in that house, and a life lay still and silent that -had had faults, but had been sweet, and loving, and -lovable. Or, a real disgrace has come to a home, and -a child has done a deed that might break a father's -heart. Oh, the misery and the pity of it, to see that -man sitting there all alone with his head bent and his -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">{170}</a></span> -face buried in his hands, thinking of the years that -might have been bright with joy, and love, and cheer, -and that he in his madness had made bad and bitter! -Ay, it was a fiery serpent, but it was effective.</p> - -<p>Yet God's heart shrinks from those sharp penalties -that come to cure us of our sins. See, what happened -the instant those Israelites returned to Him, ignominiously -crying to the very Moses, and the very God, -they had cast off and grumbled at, to come and save -them.</p> - -<p>Ay, but God is more eager than they. Make the -brazen serpent, lose not a moment. Set it up on high, -and tell them that one look is enough, and they shall -live. That is Godlike; that is how God forgives. Why -did God bid Moses make the brazen serpent and set it -up on that pole? God could have healed these men by -telling them to look up even in any way. Why precisely -the brazen serpent should be the instrument of their -cure I do not know; the Bible does not tell me. I can -only tell you a thought that has come to me about it. -Perhaps it was for this reason: It would be surely the -thought of every dying Hebrew who looked at that -serpent and felt a new life pulsing through all his veins, -and the pain of death vanishing away, that that serpent -came from God, and was a very token and proof of the -warm heart-love of God to him. But it would not be -so easy for the man that had been bitten and lay there -dying to think of that fiery serpent that bit him as a -messenger of God's love. He would be more likely to -think that the fiery serpent, that came with death in his -bite, was from the devil. And yet the serpent that bit -him to death came from God, and came from God's love -as absolutely as the serpent that healed. Is not that -it? Could they but put two and two together, would -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">{171}</a></span> -not the thought flash into their heart, "A serpent God -gave to heal; a serpent it was that hurt"? Is it then -so, that the serpent that harmed came from God's love, -as much as the serpent that healed? Is not that just -God's way with you? Do not many of you sitting in -the church to-day remember great sorrows or sharp -blows of disaster that came into your life, and at first -you writhed against them and were in great pain? -You could not think there was any love of God in them; -but they have lain there and they have made your -heart more gentle, they have made your faith more -strong, they have brought God nearer to you, they -have made you kinder in your own home, and you look -at them now with the glow of a goodness that has -grown from them, and you say to yourself that not -merely the goodness that has followed since, but the -pain that came and hurt was from God—from God who -is love.</p> - -<p>How did the healing come to the dying Hebrew who -looked at the brazen serpent? Not from any efficacy in -the serpent, not from any magical virtue in the look; -the new life that came to him came direct from God. -Why, then, did God interpose the looking at the -serpent? Why did God make the cure dependent on -a gaze at a serpent erected there by Moses? I will -tell you why. It was not the look; it was the change -of heart that was in the look that God wanted. The -real mischief that had to be undone was not the bodily -death of those men; there was a worse evil than that, -there was the loss of faith in God, the fracture of a -loving dependence on God. That is the essence of all -sin. Sin is disobedience to God. It means that you -snatch your life out of God's hand, that you will not -live according to God's will, that you make yourself -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">{172}</a></span> -your God; you will be your own master, you will take -your own way—you can do better for yourself than -God. Now, mark, you never would choose that sinful -course as long as you trusted God. Loss of faith, that -is sin. It is no good talking of cures, no good talking -of salvation, unless you undo the mischief done by sin. -Loss of faith: that is the beginning, the essence, the -end of sin. Ah! that doctrine of salvation through -faith that men mock at and call a legal sophism, it has -got the heart of all truth in it, only I think we are to -blame that we have so much talked of faith as the -means of salvation as if it were some external condition -attached by God to salvation. Faith <i>is</i> salvation; Jesus -Christ hangs there on the cross as Moses lifted up the -brazen serpent. The moment a man believes on Him -he is saved from sin. How? Through some magical -virtue in the cross, in the Body hanging there, in the -blood poured out, or in the man's mental act of faith? -Never, never. That Christ hanging there is the living -embodiment of faith in God: His life, His death, are the -incarnate declaration that all sin is error, that all sin is -an outrage, that men erred and went wrong when they -disobeyed God. He condemns all sin by His life of -holiness, by His death of antagonism against sin, hanging -there on the cross, wrestling with sin, seeking to -undo it, offering to God the world's love and obedience -that sinful men have failed to give to God, dying in their -stead, obeying in their stead, making Himself a perfect -sacrifice and substitute for this world of ours. All that -still would not be salvation, is not salvation, to you until -the sight of it turns you, regenerates you, makes you see -that all your sin was madness, folly; fills you with -hatred of it. When once the love of God binds you -over to follow that Christ in obedience to God, in trust -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">{173}</a></span> -to God, in love of God, that is faith in Christ, that is -salvation.</p> - -<p>That serpent became an object of idolatrous and -superstitious worship. It was very natural, and it is -very evil. Hezekiah with his reforming zeal took it, -and with real reverence, though with seeming external -irreverence, dashed it in pieces. Has not that also a -parallel, hundreds of parallels in Church history? -Hezekiah rightly interpreted the heart of God; he -believed that the great heart of God up there in heaven -was pained every time that a poor ignorant Israelite, -man or woman, poured out on that brazen image the -gratitude that should have gone direct to Him. And so -it is that in the Church's story you find that whenever -priests have set up any channel or means of actual grace -divine, grace supernatural, and have attached to it undue -reverence, and made it bulk too largely in the eyes -and worship of common men and women, so as to come -between them and God, then God has raised up infidels -and unbelievers to break it and dash it to pieces. Was -not that what was done by the Reformers? At the -Reformation, when the Mass had been set between -eager longing hearts of men and women seeking forgiveness -and the great loving heart of God that gives it, it -was taken and shattered. Ay, and when this Bible of -ours—this Protestant Bible of ours, or our great evangelical -doctrines, are taken and have given to them a -place of importance in our salvation and in our belief -that they ought not to have, once again be sure of it -God will create a true, lawful, and blessed recoil, and -you will have these sacred things even dashed down to -a position of undue depreciation. It is God's ways of -leading us to Himself. Ah! there is a grand thought -in that—the unutterable glory about our God that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">{174}</a></span> -shines for me through all the tale of that great battle -about belief, and doctrines, and Church institutions that -makes up the Church's story—through it all what I see -is the heart of God our Father longing for the touch of -our hands in His hands, the gaze of our eyes into His, -giving us things that shall help us to Him, lesson books -to teach us about Him, steps that shall lead us to His -feet. But the moment we make these a barrier that -keeps us far from Him, things sacred and good are -dashed away. What does that mean? It means to -you and me the revelation in all wonder, awe, and -comfort of how tender, near, and true and clinging is -the love of God's heart to you and me—of that God -whom we sometimes think so awful and so terrible, but -who in His inmost being through and through is love, -wholly, absolutely love.</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">{175}</a></div> - -<h2>VIII.<br /> -<i>THE GRADATIONS OF DOUBT.</i></h2> - -<p class="center small"><span class="smc">Psalm</span> lxxiii.</p> - -<p class="drop-cap">I AM going to ask you to study with me this morning -the 73rd Psalm. Before I read the Psalm I had -better tell you what it is about; then you will follow -the line of thought in it with greater ease. The central -faith of the Hebrew religion was that God governs -this world according to the principles of morality, that -He is on the side of goodness, and against wickedness. -The facts of life clashed with that dogma of Hebrew -faith. Good men in those old times found it as hard -to believe in God and goodness as we do, and they got -just as little, or just as much, supernatural help as we -do. Therefore they could nowhere find an absolute -certainty; they nowhere received from heaven a supernatural -and complete explanation of the enigmas of -life. God, because He loved them, deliberately left -them to fight their battle for faith with the actual facts -and the actual difficulties. He left them constantly -trying to find a complete intellectual solution of the -problem, and failing to do that, just as we fail; and so -He shut them up to discovering a resting-place for faith -in the heart when they could not get it in the head. A -great many psalms have welled out of men's hearts, -just like fountains away among the hills, and valleys, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">{176}</a></span> -and slopes. This 73rd Psalm is brimful of human -thoughts, and duties, and longings, pains, and battles, -and victories, just like bits of your life when you were -all alive to the real grandeur of your human existence, -when your heart longed to think loftily of life, and to -hold fast to God, and precisely because your heart was -all alive you found it was not easy. I am going to ask -you to follow this man's struggle against doubt, to watch -the steps by which he descended into the valley of real -questioning of God's goodness and of God's government -of the world, and then to trace the steps by which he -climbed back again to a hill-top of serene and tranquil -certainty.</p> - -<p>I have already indicated to you that I do not think -that anywhere in the Old Testament, or in the New -Testament, or in all Christian theology or philosophy, -does there exist a complete demonstration of the fact -that God is good, and that He is on the side of goodness. -Whether that is true or not every intelligent -believer will admit that this 73rd Psalm is no complete -theodicy. It will not hold its own as a logical demonstration -that the government of this world is moral or -just. The man's certainty that there is a good God, -and that God takes sides with good men, rests not -upon sight, but upon faith; it is a solution of the -heart, not of the head. Thank God! that is the universal -law of religious experience. One thing I want -to point out to you at the beginning, especially to those -of you who are thinkers, and who study the various -religions of the world. There is a very simple characteristic -about the fashion in which the problem of -life is dealt with in those Psalms, when we compare -them, say, with the very finest of Greek devotion and -Greek religion. In all Greek philosophy there is only -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">{177}</a></span> -one fixed quantity—that is, the world. The problem -of Greek thought is this: Given the world, the clear, -solid, certain fact, to find the God that made it. They -took life as it stood, and from its elements and components -they tried to determine what kind of a Maker this -world has had. Now, at the very outset, all through -Hebrew religious thought and philosophy, you find two -fixed quantities. There is the world, but over against it -there is God—God, holy, just, righteous; and therefore, -while the Greek problem was always, Given the -world, to construct God, the Hebrew problem is, Given -the world as it exists, and given God as He exists, -can those be reconciled? It is a very simple and striking -contrast. I will tell you the picturesque aspect that -it gives to the two literatures. Greek thought is all -philosophical, speculative—great minds rising back to -the First Cause, from this actual world; and this world -being what it is, no wonder that at one time they -reached iron Fate, at another time Materialism, at another -time Pantheism, at another time Manichæism. Hebrew -thought does not sway about in that fashion; it is -simply concerned with this—the vindication of God's -character; and there is the striking contrast. In -Greek poetry, in all Pagan poetry, you will find warm-hearted, -large-minded men contemplating life, with all -its great wrongs, injustices, pains, sorrows, disappointments, -and then breaking into pity and compassion for -men. In Hebrew poetry, in Hebrew religion, you will -everywhere find the same dark aspects of life fearlessly -held up, acknowledged, and confronted; but what do -you think is the supreme pain that breaks in upon the -hearts of the Hebrew sages and seers as they contemplate -the world's enigmas? It is anxiety for the character -of God. It is not pity for poor men and women, ground -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">{178}</a></span> -under the wheels of this earth, but a terribly agonising -question, "How can we defend God and God's goodness -when the world is so evil and so dark?" Ah, you -want to prove what the Bible is by its own light, to -show that it has a right to be spoken of as a revelation -and as inspired! Do not go to all the trivial Mediæval -theories and doctrines about it; go to the book itself, -and go to the world. It can hold its own, without -claiming anything outside to buttress it up. Set the -heart-life in it against the heart-life of any other -religion, and you will see that it has the blue of God's -heaven in it—unsullied, splendid, perfect. Now, I am -going to take this one Psalm—to take one glimpse into -that long, painful chemistry of revelation, as God came -into human hearts with pain and perplexity, with -struggle, with triumph, with glory, and made those -hearts know Him, not through explanations, but by His -indwelling in them, His life, His love, His holiness, -echoing and throbbing into their heart life.</p> - -<p>I am now tempted to break off here for a moment, -and say to you what always strikes me when I look at -that aspect of this revealed, inspired Bible—that it does -seem just possible that the good Christian Church we -belong to in our time is not in quite the right way of -thinking about religious doubt. I am not talking about -doubt of the head, the intellect, and the schools—intellectual -fence, that sort of triviality; let it alone, it is -not worth taking notice of. But the real doubt of any -age, the doubt of any man's heart and head—what are -we to think of that? Are we to stamp it as devilish? -Are we to denounce it, and excommunicate it? Why, -we might be fighting against God. If I read my Bible -aright, real, genuine, patient struggle for faith means -just the birth-throes of God's revelation of Himself in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">{179}</a></span> -men's hearts. Now come to this point, and see what -it reveals to you that is sacred, pathetic, instructive in -the heart of a man dead hundreds of years ago. Look -into his heart, and you may learn a great deal about -your own heart. The problem that confronts him is -the fact that has always been very evident in every -age, that honesty is not by any means always the best -policy, if by that you mean that it pays you best. I -am putting it in homely language. It is a big question. -Do the world's good things go predominantly to the -good men? or do they go to the clever and unscrupulous -men? In the professions is it your honest, truthful -man, of modest merit, that succeeds best, or your humbug, -impostor, flatterer, self-advertiser? In the State, -in politics, is it your honest man, that speaks truths to -the people, that is lauded and flattered? or is it your -skilful adventurer? In the City does strict honour -make a man's fortune? or are profits bigger in proportion -as a man can wink at things? Anywhere on the large -scale are the virtuous classes the most prosperous? -Are the powers of this world raised up to their lofty -elevation by goodness, or rather in spite of badness? -Is God on the side of goodness? or does He not care? -or is He rather on the side of violence, and wrong, and -wickedness? Now, this point is the real struggle in -the poet's heart, to solve that difficulty of life. I am -going to read it to you, giving you the headings of the -various parts of it, the steps of emotion and of thought -through which his heart has passed.</p> - -<p>He begins, first of all, with the point at which he -ends. This is the right result of that struggle of doubt -and faith within him; he believes that God is on the -side of goodness. But there is a curious little word, -very difficult to reproduce in English, that expresses -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">{180}</a></span> -how the firm conviction that he has of goodness having -God backing it was reached through painful conflict. -"Surely"—yes, after all—"God is good to His people, -good to such as are pure in heart." Then we come to -the history of doubt, the progress of doubt, in the man's -soul. That you have in the first fourteen verses. The -first step of it was his recognition of the fact of prosperous -wickedness. It is a little difficult to divide the -Psalm exactly, and I do not give you the divisions that -I am choosing as certainly the precise, original structure -of the poem, but roughly they bring out the outstanding -thoughts. The first division would be verses 2 to -5—the fact of prosperous wickedness: "But as for me, -my feet were almost gone; my steps had well-nigh -slipped. For I was envious at bad men—at successful -bad men—when I saw the prosperity of the wicked. -For they have no barriers, no entanglements; they are -never tripped up on to the time of their death"—that, -I think, is the real translation—"but their success -remains firm. They are not in trouble like other men; -neither are they plagued like other men."</p> - -<p>That is the first step of doubt. Then comes the -second, the effect upon themselves: "Therefore pride -is like a golden chain round their neck; violence -covers them as a garment. Their eyes stand out with -fatness; they have more than heart could wish. They -scoff, and in wickedness utter oppression, pour forth -oppressive taunt; they speak loftily. They have set -their mouth in the heaven, and their tongue stalketh -through the earth."</p> - -<p>Then there is a third step of doubt, the effect upon -good men: "Therefore God's people are prevented -that way, and the waters of a full cup are drained by -them. They say, How can God know? and is there -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">{181}</a></span> -knowledge in the Most High? Behold, these are the -wicked; and being always secure, they heap up -wealth."</p> - -<p>Then there is the effect on the poet himself: "Surely -in vain have I cleansed my heart, and washed my -hands in innocency. For all the day long have I been -plagued, and chastened every morning." You see here -the doubt reaching its last full result.</p> - -<p>Then we come to the recoil, the restoration of faith. -That also is set in three steps. The first is the perception -of the fact of retribution. Verse 15: "Had I -made up my mind, I will speak thus; behold, I should -have dealt treacherously with the generation of Thy -children. When I thought how I might know this—how -to read this riddle—it was too hard for me, until -I went into the sanctuary of God, and considered the -last end of them. Surely Thou didst set them in -slippery places; Thou hast hurled them down to destruction. -How are they become a desolation in a -moment! They are utterly consumed with terrors. -As a nightmare when one awaketh, so, O Lord, when -Thou awakest Thou dost despise [flout] the presentment -of them."</p> - -<p>Then there is the next step, the perception of his -own stupidity: "My mind was in a ferment, and I was -pricked in my heart. How brutish I was, and how -ignorant! I was no better than a proud beast before -Thee; and I am continually with Thee, held by Thy -right hand."</p> - -<p>Then there is the last step, the perception of the -immeasurable joy, the intrinsic superiority, of goodness. -"Whom have I in heaven but Thee? and there is -none upon earth that I desire beside Thee. My flesh -and my heart faileth; but God is the strength of my -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">{182}</a></span> -heart, and my portion for ever. For, lo, they that are -far from Thee shall perish; thou hast destroyed all -them that go straying away from Thee. But it is good -for me to draw near to God: I have made the Lord -my refuge, that I may tell all Thy works."</p> - -<p>Now, for our own help and instruction, let us follow, -step by step, the struggle of that good man's heart. Is -it evident on the face of things that goodness has the -best of it in this world? Now, I am going to say to -you a thing that perhaps many of you will think little -of me for saying, but I cannot help thinking that the -poet exaggerated the actual facts; and I am quite persuaded -that a great many people who think themselves -very wise, and are very wise, at the present day, make far -too much of the external material advantage gained by -dishonesty. I am quite prepared to admit that goodness -often keeps a man back from earthly joy. I am -quite prepared to admit that the prizes of this world go -far too much to men that possess no real right to them. -There are endless social wrongs and individual wrongs. -Things are not rightly adjusted, either in the Church or -in the world, in professions or in business. All that is -true. Nevertheless, I rather think that the amount of -it is exaggerated. I do not think that is the predominant -aspect of life. It is only when a man is morbid, -when existence is pressing too hard on himself, when -he is sharply injured and wronged, that he would take -upon him to say that evil out and out, clearly and -without question, has the best of it. I am talking, of -course, of our society nowadays; but I rather think -that in all states of society it could never have been -the case that wickedness absolutely had the best of it. -I will tell you why: Because this world cannot stand -without a good deal of love and a good deal of faith, a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">{183}</a></span> -good deal of honesty, a good deal of mutual trust. -Why, if business were the utter mass of cheating and -unscrupulosity that some men would have us believe, -you would have an end of all credit, of all business. -There must be some brotherliness; there must be a -certain trustworthiness; there must be a considerable -amount of honesty. It is the very salt of the world; -it maintains it; the world would come to an end -without it. But all the same, I am willing to admit -that that is the superficial aspect of existence, and that -it is a very staggering blow to men's faith, especially -faith that is inherited from one's father, that is not a -man's own; it is a thing to make a young man's heart -bitter; it is a thing to make him hesitate and doubt -whether he ought to hold to the pathway of honour. -It is not, I think, the paramount, the predominant -aspect of life, looked at calmly and dispassionately, quite -apart from religious faith, but certainly it is a very -prominent aspect—prominent because it is superficial. -Well, then, that fact of successful wrong-doing is the -cause of religious doubt, but not by any means a very -dangerous cause.</p> - -<p>We come to the second source of doubt and questioning—an -infinitely more subtle and hazardous one. -It is the perception that successful ill-doers do not seem -to be miserable. You know how we are all taught that -bad men have such terribly evil consciences, that harpies -are always behind them, that their hearts are gnawed -with dread and anxiety, that they cannot sleep at night, -that remorse haunts them. Not a bit of it. You go -into the world and pick out men who have gained their -wealth, who have wrung it out of the heart's blood of -their fellow-men—got it by downright dishonesty; their -eyes stand out with fatness, they roll about in their -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">{184}</a></span> -carriages, they have splendid houses, and everybody -bows down to them and makes much of them; their -faces are wreathed with smiles of self-satisfaction; you -sit at their tables, and they tell you how successful they -have been; they expect you to envy them; they are not -humble and miserable. Then the deadly question comes -to you, Where, then, is God? Ah, one can quite -understand God letting the external world run its own -course! One might explain in some way that God -allows, to try men, the prizes of wealth and the joys of -life to go to men that do not deserve them. As a good -man once said to me, "It is plain that God does not -think much of money—why, look at the kind of people -he gives it to!" That is so; but the one thing you -would believe is this, that in that strange inner world -of the human heart, the mind, the conscience God could -not keep still. If He gives them the external gift, if -He sends them the desire of their flesh, He will send -leanness into their soul. Why do you not see their -faces haggard? Why can you not trace the lines of -care? Why does not shame and degradation sit upon -the wealthy man's face who gained his wealth by -cheating and lying, by dishonour and meanness? -Oh, they seem so happy, so contented, so pleased, -so proud, so arrogant! Why does their tongue reach -up to heaven, in its pride, and haughtiness, and complacency? -Well, you would think that that is a deadly -enough doubt to be gnawing at a good lad's heart; -but there is a still deadlier one. Here you have the -deadliest cause of doubt, when a man, pressed hard by -the great fact of prosperous ill-doing, staggered by that -blow, does not see the inner, ethical, moral vengeance -of God stamped on it. He looks round for confirmation -to the good men in the Church; he looks at religious -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">{185}</a></span> -Christian society, he falls back on it, to let it support -him, to let it help him; and what does he discover when -his eyes pierce through and penetrate? In the heart -within him he begins to recognise the hearts of others. -Everywhere the Church is secretly doubting too; good -men are longing for a share in the ill-gotten gain—ay, -tampering with their consciences, themselves turning -into the same direction, drinking of the waters of the -same cup, and then some of them, more reckless or -more honest, speaking straight out: "Yes, I was -brought up, like you, to believe in virtue, in honesty, -in God, and in goodness; but I have seen throughout -that this world is not governed by a good God. If -there is a good God, He does not know or does not -care; He does not step in; it is the wicked that have -the best of it in this world; I am going to take that -course." Ah, the moral perversion, the tainted breath -of the base, selfish, greedy, unscrupulous world! that -detected in the heart of his own father, the good -elder, the church member; that detected in his own -mother, not valuing or choosing for the society of -her home the honourable, the pure, the good, the true, -but the people with money, and tainted reputations, -and all the rest of it; that is the deadliest thing; that -makes the real doubt, the real unbelief; that carries -a lad, not to books of philosophy—he will never take -much harm from them, even if he has head enough to -understand them—but carries him clean away from -religion, into shady company too, and takes the virtue -and morality out of him, making him sell himself for -money in life's sacredest relationships: it is that—the -perversion of good. Oh, how much we Christian men -and women have to answer for when we denounce -sceptics and worldlings, the ungodly young men who -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">{186}</a></span> -stop going to church, and all that! Ay, poor souls, -they will have to answer for it! but how much shall -we have to answer for it too? The Church, is it -not tainted by worldliness? Do we go and take the -bravest, the most patient, the most loyal, the most -prayerful, the most devout Sunday-school teacher, a -working man, and put him in the chair of our Sunday-school -assemblies in Exeter Hall? No, no; it is not -pure goodness. I do not know that we can help it, but -it would be worth while trying that system, instead of -the Church, for want of faith, making so very much of -the world, of social position, and of purse power.</p> - -<p>But I have rather wandered from my point. Doubt -has now run its course, completed its curriculum. The -question is often raised, Does it matter what a man -believes? No, not what he believes about the abstract -theories or explanations either of philosophy or theology—it -will not matter much what he thinks about these -abstruse questions; but it matters infinitely and eternally -what he thinks about God, and goodness, and life. Ah, -there a man's heart-faiths make his life-conduct! It -was so with the poet here, when those dark, demon -doubts had filled his soul, when his mind was in a ferment, -when his heart was pricked and bitter within him, -when he heard good men—men that were good once—round -him saying, "Does God know?" and when he -felt himself in a God-forsaken world, where there was -nothing but each man snatching the best he could -get, where everything was given over to wickedness -and evil. Ah, then, such a man does not stop at -theoretical atheism and scepticism! he goes farther. -"Surely in vain have I kept my hands clean; I have -been a fool to deny myself forbidden joys and pleasures; -I have been punished, I have been injured; those that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">{187}</a></span> -were unscrupulous, and impure, and dishonest have had -the best of it; I have done with being a fool; I am -going to have my share too." Now doubt has reached -its most dangerous point; it is going to hurry into -forbidden action.</p> - -<p>It was at this moment that the recoil came. I will -tell you how. If a man has got any heart at all, he -can go any length in his own head with his doubts -and questions about whether there is a God or a heaven, -or whether it is worth while trying to be holy, and -pure, and honest; but if he has any heart at all, the -moment that he says, "I am going to be pure no -longer, but I am going to be foul," then there is something -in him that draws him back. He sees himself, -or rather he feels, that he is not doing harm to any one -with those doubts that are in his own intellect, but the -moment he says, "I am going out into the world, in -the train, in the town, in the warehouse, and I am -going to tell it, right and left, that I count it an old -wife's fable that there is a God and heaven, that I -count the man an idiot who denies himself any fleshly -joy that he can get without coming within the grasp -of the law"—I say, if he has any heart at all, he -suddenly thinks to himself, "If I say that to my younger -brother, if I say that to that innocent maiden, I shall -be doing a cruel wrong to the generation of God's -people." Oh, there is an eternal, immovable fact! -Doubt may have all logic on its side, but doubt and -the denial of God and of virtue are the world's damnation. -It may be an advantage to a man to cheat and -steal, but it cannot be an advantage to his neighbours. -Take the worst man in the City, and ask him if he -would wish that all goodness, all virtue, all religion -should be so crushed out that every man should become -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">{188}</a></span> -a thief, a robber, a burglar. No; he does not want that. -Even in the case of an infidel, if he be a man of fine -conscience and fine heart—I have known such—not for -his life would he tell his doubts to a child, not for his -life would he say a word to stop that mother teaching -her boy to pray. I have known such men who told me -that they were thankful that the mother of their children -kept on doing it. Yes, that Psalm is far away from -our theoretical theologies or intellectual apologies and -the rest of it. See how intensely human it is—that -recognition that doubt held within the intellect is not -very harmful, but let it go out into the world, and it -will do unspeakable mischief; it is that that gives the -doubter check. Ay, and there is reason in it, rationality. -When a man recognises that fact he has got -to go farther. If doubt manifestly would harm the -world, if the denial of God, and goodness, and the -earth's moral government would damage human society, -then there must be something wrong in the reasoning -that leads up to that denial. The facts cannot be as -I have fancied, or else my inferences are wrong; for -never, never can it be evil to know the truth. Therefore -that denial of mine that there is a good God, or -that if there be a God He governs this world by -goodness, must be false. Now all things appear to -the man in a new light. Why? Because he has got -up to a great elevation. Suddenly it darts upon him, -"Before, I was looking at this world out of my little -self; I judged everything by its effect upon my own -personality, my own life. I was suffering, and therefore -all things must be wrong." What a poor little -aspect that is! Now he has risen up to a point where -he stands as God stands; he looks at the big world -out of himself, and he sees that the doubt, the denial, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">{189}</a></span> -would destroy all that is best in the world. And he -looks farther; he has reached to God's sanctuary. -Now his eyes travel over wider reaches of human -story. Before he was like a man down in a valley -where there is a winding river, and just where he stood -the river seemed to flow in one direction, and he went -away and proclaimed to men that the river ran north. -Now he has travelled away up the mountain, and he -is able to look over the whole extent, and he sees that -there was a winding and twisting in the stream, but -observes that its great ultimate course is to the southern -seas. The man stands up above this world of ours, -he looks over the great spread of its course and history, -and what is the absolute conclusion? That everywhere -in the end immorality has death in it; that violence, -wickedness, selfishness ruin themselves; that oppressive -dynasties have fallen, and corrupt peoples have -been struck down; that sin everywhere has God's -vengeance set in it, and ends in death. Everywhere -in the end virtue does triumph and survive, goodness -proves superior. That is a fact which the evolutionist -tells us. This world seeks and reaches the moral, the -good, the true, the noble in intellect, heart, and soul. -It was made, the religious man says, by a good God, -and it is making for goodness. Yes; but there comes -another revelation. For the good man says to himself, -"Now, how came it that I could not see that before?" -and suddenly an overwhelming shame falls upon him. -"How could I not see that before? Oh, because I -was such a little soul, because I lived in such a -despicable, little world! I failed to see the truth -because I was as base as those bad men. What makes -them forsake God and goodness? Because they count -earthly gain the supreme thing. Why was I so bitter -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">{190}</a></span> -against their getting the earthly gain? Because I -counted it the supreme thing. I, a man made in God's -image, a man held by God's hand, a man whose will -was being overshadowed, and led, and guided by God's -Spirit, through all was so ignorant and so brutish that -I thought God's best gift that He had to give to His -children was money, or fleshly pleasure, or earthly -adulation. I was no better than a brute beast. To -the brute beast God can give nothing more than meat, -and drink, and fleshly sensual delight; but that a man -held in God's hand, loved by God, should have great -joy about these things! Ah, my doubt grew not out -of the world's enigmas alone! it grew out of my own -low morals." Now he stands in a new position. He -sees as God sees, and he says to himself, "Ah, let -this world grow as ill as it may; even if it were the -case that money, power, social ambition, earthly rewards -did go predominantly to wickedness, what then? Here -am I, a man loving honour, truth, justice, mercy, purity, -God; shall I hesitate for one moment if I must lose all -the world? Can I hesitate for one moment? No; -goodness alone, with no earthly reward, is heaven, -and far more precious than all worldly gain." Why? -Because goodness has in it the very breath of God, -the throb of His Spirit, the echo of His heart. The -good man has God in him, loving him, continually -with him, he continually with God; and this world lies -beneath him, and death beneath his feet. Ah, the -best this world can give trembles before death and the -grave, and breaks and is gone! but in goodness the -human heart clasps God, and doubt is at an end.</p> - -<p>Oh, how much our world to-day wants that supreme -daring faith in goodness just for itself, and that close -fellowship with God, that defies all questionings, all -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">{191}</a></span> -doubts, that would stand if all the evidences about our -Gospels and Epistles were swept away, still sure that -God is up there, that God loves men, and that God -draws them to Himself to make them holy, as their -Father in heaven is holy!</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">{192}</a></div> - -<h2>IX.<br /> -<i>THE STORY OF QUEEN ESTHER.</i></h2> - -<p class="center small"><span class="smc">Esther</span> iv. 13-17.</p> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE subject to which I invite your attention -to-night is the Story of Queen Esther. The -kernel of it has been read to you in the fourth chapter. -I shall read the closing verses, so as to give you the -key-note to the meaning of the narrative. After Esther -had refused to go and plead for the Hebrews with -the King of Persia, "Mordecai commanded to answer -Esther, Think not with thyself that thou shalt escape -in the king's house, more than all the Jews. For if -thou altogether holdest thy peace at this time, then -shall there enlargement and deliverance arise to the -Jews from another place; but thou and thy father's -house shall be destroyed: and who knoweth whether -thou art come to the kingdom for such a time as this? -Then Esther bade them return Mordecai this answer, -Go, gather together all the Jews that are present in -Shushan, and fast ye for me, and neither eat nor drink -three days, night or day: I also and my maidens -will fast likewise; and so will I go in unto the king, -which is not according to the law: and if I perish, I -perish. So Mordecai went his way, and did according -to all that Esther had commanded him."</p> - -<p>It is a very difficult task to calculate how much -religion there is in the world—true religion, that God -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">{193}</a></span> -accepts. Elijah once tried to calculate, and concluded -there was nobody true to God but himself; blind to -the seven thousand that had not bowed the knee to -Baal. It is quite possible to take superficial, indulgent, -optimistic views of the progress made by mankind, but -God knows there are as deadly and wicked and more -blasphemous errors committed by good men, who talk -of this world as if it were given over to the devil to -reign and rule in it, as if things were growing worse -and worse, as if the number of men and women whose -hearts are God's were few. I think the blunder comes -from looking for goodness often in the wrong place, -from a mistaken idea of what true religion is. It won't -do to reckon up our church members; they are not -all genuine. It won't do to count our acts of worship, -our prayer-meetings, our praises. These are often -mere sound, breath, empty air. If you want to know -how much of Christ there is in this world, you must -go outside the churches, into the workshops, into the -homes of the people. Ay, you must go to lands where -Christ's name is not often heard, and you have got to -listen with a sympathetic ear, and whenever you hear -the accents of Christ's human voice ringing out in any -way of genuine love and tenderness, whenever you see -duty done patiently, and loyally, and uncomplainingly, -whenever you see a heart or a soul follow the light, -however dim and glimmering, understand that there -you are touching Christ, and stand on a bit of the -kingdom of heaven. The eleventh chapter of Hebrews -is the golden roll of the Old Testament heroes, men -of God, stamped by God Himself as genuine; and -the deeds recited, too, as having been done by them, -that gave them their degree and title as heroes, -and nobles, and princes in heaven's kingdom, are not -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">{194}</a></span> -the preaching of sermons, or the writing of books of -theology, or the fighting about petty little trivialities -of doctrinal explanation, or the performance of rites -and ceremonies and acts of worship, but brave deeds -of battle, noble, dauntless generalship, heroism, and -courage, and self-sacrifice, loyalty to the cause of truth -and righteousness in this world. These are the deeds -that were done, following the guidance of God, under -the inspiration of Heaven, and the men who did them -are recited in one long unbroken chain, and linked on -in line direct with Jesus Christ, whose death and -redemption are presented as the crown and consummation -of that long series of priests, and kings, and -prophets, and warriors, and heroes, true-hearted men -and women who lived for God and fought for God in -the olden time. It is sometimes said that Christ was -not present in the Old Testament times. True, the -human Jesus of Nazareth was not there, but oh, the -spirit of Him was! He was the very heart-beat, -and pulse, and inspiration of all that long, continuous -struggle to bring heaven down into earth, for that is -what the Old Testament story presents to us. In -every brave deed, in every true word, in every pure -and righteous life, it was not the heart of man that -glowed, but the very spirit of Christ—Christ coming -to full birth and maturity in this world's story.</p> - -<p>Some people are puzzled to discover how the Book -of Esther comes to be in the Old Testament. It is -said to be a romance of history. It contains no religious -teaching. The name of God is not once mentioned -in it, from the first verse to the last. How comes it in -the Bible?</p> - -<p>Now, it is quite true that there is no direct dogmatic -teaching of religious truth. It is absolutely true that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">{195}</a></span> -the name of God is not to be found in its pages. But -what of that? what of that, if the book is one of -the most powerful presentations of God's providence -working among men, if the book itself has for its -very soul and idea the conception of God overruling -events in a marvellous fashion to preserve His kingdom -on earth? Is the great thing to get the name of God, -spelt with its three letters, or to be shown God? Ah! -it is the same kind of blunder that causes us to make -so much of mere forms of words in the Church, instead -of looking to see if the Spirit of God animates the man -and woman and the preacher who inhabit the professed -house of God on earth. There may be no teaching -of religion, no prophesying of Jesus, no foreshadowing -of the evangelical truths of redemption in the Book of -Esther; but what it does paint for you is a majestic -picture of a human heart struggling against its own -weakness, rising to a grandeur that had in it the glory -of Christ's own self-sacrifice. The name is not there, -the phrase is not there; but the core, and kernel, and -heart of Christ's love, and faith, and redemption of men -are pulsing and beating in the book.</p> - -<p>It is a puzzling book. There is a great deal in it -that is revolting. The background on which Esther's -deed of heroism was done is ugly and repulsive. She -lived in a social state that was degraded and base, -containing in it customs and habits that almost sicken -us who, through Christ's mercy, have been lifted into -comparative purity and sweetness.</p> - -<p>You remember the story. A dissolute Persian -monarch, in a drunken frolic, requires of his queen to -do a deed that ran against all that was womanly within -her, and she refused. Mercilessly he deposes her from -the throne, and he sets to to select another queen. The -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">{196}</a></span> -fair maidens of the land are collected, and in a very -disgusting fashion presented to the tyrant, and from -among them he chooses the beautiful young Jewess -Esther, and makes her his queen. One cannot but -pity her for having lived in such a time, for having -had to play a part on such a stage of the world's story. -One may even fairly ask the question, if it had not -been nobler if she had not been presented by her -guardian in such a revolting competition? But it is -no good for us finding fault with the actual course of -the world's story. If God was not too fine to lead -men in all the bygone days—polygamy and such like -practices were tolerated in the Old Testament time, -because of the lowness of men's hearts, as Christ -explains to us—it is a mistake in you and me being -too fine to recognise God where God was numbering -Himself among transgressors, that He might lift mankind -to His own level. And then the narrative proceeds; -presents to us a succession of cruel, unscrupulous -intrigues, mainly between Esther's guardian, Mordecai, -(a Jew whom one cannot admire and love, taking the -picture of him drawn in this book) and the king's -favourite courtier, Haman. In the course of the rivalry -between the two, the very existence of God's people -throughout the Persian empire is imperilled. Partly -through Haman's scheming, but also through dauntless -devotion to what they believed to be the cause of God, -and which was the cause of God, in spite of the earthliness -and imperfections attaching to its soldiers and -defenders, partly by evil fixed to them, partly through -nobility and goodness, a drama is presented to us, a -struggle of heroism and bravery, and in the centre of -it is that young queen doing a deed that we cannot -but call Christlike.</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">{197}</a></div> - -<p>Now, I want to say this to you: Men's lights in the -world are very diverse. The possibilities of goodness -and attainment for one man are far greater and far -higher than for another. Some of you may be so -entangled with evil customs and habits of commercial -or of social life that you feel your very position there -is impossible to make quite consistent with the full -requirements of Jesus Christ. Thus things are. It -is no good blinking them. And what are you to do? -To despair, to give up any attempt to be good, and -pure, and noble? Never! never! Look at all that -Old Testament story—men far behind in their notions -of common morality, yet on that low, degraded background -discerning always a higher that may be done, -a lower that may be avoided. No matter where you -may stand, no matter how difficult the achievements -may be, the one great question is, not what is the -framework, but what is the painting you put in it. -Are you living for self? or are you living for God? -living to your own self-will, or striving to do your -duty as far as you can do it?</p> - -<p>From a very lowly lot Esther rose to be the first -lady in the land, and I suppose all her sister Jewesses -envied her, and thought that there was nothing that -was not happy, and prosperous, and pleasant in her -position. Yes, it was a position of great advantage, -of great pomp, flattering to her pride—rich raiment, -jewellery, the adulation of fawning courtiers, the admiration -of the great monarch of the mightiest kingdom -in the world, promoted to the throne as queen, wielding -power over the destinies of man. Ah! it was a very -enviable, happy lot, and yet not altogether so very -enviable. I will tell you why—a thing that we apparently -forget. When we all of us enter into our estates, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">{198}</a></span> -when we come of age, nearly all good fortune in this -world is heavily mortgaged. It is encumbered estates -that we come heir to; and without disloyalty, without -being renegades and dishonourable, we cannot cast off -these encumbrances. The present has always got to -pay the purchase price to the past. You must not -kick away the ladder by which you rose to fortune. -Ah! and sometimes into the bright sunshiny present -the past comes with a very long bill to pay—comes -with a very stern face and a demanding hand, and bids -you, perhaps, risk all that is making your heart so -warm, and so proud, and so gay.</p> - -<p>That was the case with Esther. She was a Jewess. -She owed her birth and her breeding to that despised, -exiled people. She had won her proud position on the -emperor's throne through the planning, and toiling, and -sacrifice of her Jewish guardian. And now her people's -destiny hangs on the balance. A deadly conspiracy -against them has brought it about that on a given day, -rapidly approaching, there is to be a universal merciless -massacre of these defenceless Jews. And through the -mouth of her old revered guardian the demand comes -to her—the one human being that might have influence -with the cruel king to cancel the decree and save the -lives of men, women, and children—at the risk and -peril of her own life in asking it, to go and intercede -for them.</p> - -<p>Hard! oh, how hard! Don't you judge harshly the -poor queen when she shrank away from it and could -not face the stern summons. Think of it, the young -flesh, the soft heart—a woman's heart—within her, and -think of the cruel death by torture that was wont to be -inflicted upon any one that, unbidden, dared to force his -way into the king's presence; coming, too, in the bright -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">{199}</a></span> -noonday of all her good fortune. It would have been -easier to risk life when she was an unknown Jewish -maiden; but oh, in this good luck, this fortune, this -love, this adulation, this admiration, with her right fair -beauty all upon her, to take it all and go and confront -grim death! it seemed too much to ask. And so Esther -began arguing within herself: Was she bound to hazard -her life for these Jews? After all, what had they done -for her? They were her race, her kindred, but what -of that? Had she not come out from among them? -Has not destiny taken her lot and separated it from -theirs? Why cannot she live her own life apart from -them? Why should she come down from the throne -and take her stand among them, exposed to cruel -massacre and death? What is the obligation? Where -are the ties that bound her lot to theirs? Ay, where -were the ties of love and the obligations to generosity? -They are too fine and impalpable to be proved by -argument. The moment you begin discussing them -or questioning them—ties that bind brother to brother, -sister to sister, child to parent—they vanish like life -dissected for. You destroy them. They have to be -felt, not proved, but are more real, more solemn, more -important in determining a man's destinies than all the -legal bonds and moral obligations that bind him in -society.</p> - -<p>But then, again, the queen would ask herself, What -would be the good of her running such a risk? Is it -reasonable that she, a single weak woman, unskilled in -the ways of courts and of cunning courtiers; that she -should be asked to plunge into a whirlpool of race-hatreds -and furious feuds between unscrupulous nobles -and potentates about the court; that she should confront -the reckless rage of the royal tyrant—she, so defenceless, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">{200}</a></span> -so impotent, so frail? Ah, yes! once again the argument -was good to shirk the path of heroism; but once -again, what business had she to argue? When duty -comes to you it is not a thing to reason about. You -have got to just go and do it.</p> - -<p>Mother, when your little one was struck down with -the deadliest and most infectious ailment, did you -reason for one moment whether you could be expected -to risk your life, whether you were not too delicate to -make it worth while doing it, whether you would not -be throwing away your existence? If any man came -and suggested that to you,—"No!" Love, duty, they -do not argue, they command.</p> - -<p>The fact of the matter was, the queen was standing -in a false position. She could not see the truth, she -could not see the right, where she stood. I hope I -have been able to show you how very plausible, how -very weighty, the grounds were on which she made her -refusal to risk her life. But have not you yourselves felt -something about a home atmosphere in which such -reasoning moved that is contemptible and despicable? -Have not you recognised its infinite pettiness and -littleness? Oh, what a narrow, contracted, selfish world -that woman's heart is living in! It has been all a question -about Esther—Esther's life, Esther's risks, Esther's -obligations, as if that were the whole. Why not break -down those prison walls of littleness? Look at those -thousands of Jews—fathers, mothers, young maidens, -brave lads, little children with their bright eyes, and -with terrible death impending over them. How is -Esther so forgetful of them, with their white faces -and their anxious eyes, and of God's purposes in this -world? Ah, no man can ever choose the path of -right, of heroism, of goodness, of duty, till he sees -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">{201}</a></span> -and feels himself in God's big world, and with God -above him up in heaven!</p> - -<p>Mordecai recognised the root of the queen's cowardice, -and swiftly and sternly he sent back a reply -that shattered those barriers of her selfishness, and -lifted her out of her little self-centred world, and set -her on the pinnacle whence the whole line and way -of duty shone out unmistakably. "Go back," said he—"go -back and tell the queen to be ashamed of her -despicable selfishness. Does she imagine that she -lives separate and unconnected in this world of God's, -so that she can save her own life by sacrificing, -cowardly, the lives of her kinsmen? Go, tell the -queen that she does not live in a will-less, random -world, where she may pick and choose the best things -for herself. Go, tell her that confronting her, sweeping -round her, seizing her in its currents, the great will of -God is moving on down through the centuries. If she -will not save God's people, then God will find another -deliverer, and she herself shall be dashed aside. Go, -tell the queen she may refuse the task, but the deed -shall be done. God's purpose in His chosen people -shall not be baulked. Deliverance will come to the -Jews, but she, poor blind queen, may have missed a -noble vocation. Go, bid the queen look at the strange -providence that picked her out among her people, that -placed her on the throne, that set her by the side of -the despot in whose hands the fate of her people is -held, and then bid her ask whether she thinks God -did that deed out of partial, indulgent favour of her -petty self, or whether it is not clear as noontide that -just for this hour of peril, and of danger, and of death, -to be the redeemer and the saviour of the Jews, God -gave her that dignity and set her on the throne."</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">{202}</a></div> - -<p>Ah, what a new world we are in now! what a new -light floods everything! The queen felt it. All that -was noble, all that was good in her waked and gained -the upper hand, and crushed down her baseness, and -her meanness, and her selfishness. And yet heroism -had a struggle with the weakness of the flesh. That -is nothing strange. Remember Christ in Gethsemane: -"Oh, watch with Me, with your human sympathy and -fellowship, in My dire hour of need!" It was a cry -like that that made Esther send back that message to -Mordecai. She wanted to feel the binding force of the -ties of common human brotherhood that connected her -with her people to make her strong. She saw how it -was. Away from them, and living alone, proudly, selfishly, -her heart had got hard, and she could not go -out among them; but it would mean a deal for her -during those days if she knew that in every Jewish -home men and women, young men and maidens, and -little children, from morning till night, were fasting, and -by the pain and abstinence of fasting kept thinking, from -morning till night, of the deadly danger hanging over -them, and Esther steeling herself to risk her life for love -of them. Oh, wrapped round with that sense of human -sympathy, nerved and braved by the thought of all these -human lives hanging on her heroism, the weak woman -conquered, and she could go and do the deed of valour!</p> - -<p>But one thing more: the other element, the sense -of her own weakness, her own impotence—for that she -needed to fall back on God. Ah, if it were the case -simply of a nation pleading with her to intercede on -their behalf, she could not have done that all alone! -But when she herself, through those two days, lived -face to face with God, till this world was filled with His -presence, till all the old stories of the generous rescues -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">{203}</a></span> -of bygone days were blazing resplendent before her -eyes, guaranteeing that it was a call of God, that God -would be behind her and with her and that His -strength would be sufficient for her weakness—so -backed with intimate love and sympathy with her -fellow-men, and a strong faith in God, she could go -and do her duty. Look at this striking contrast. -Read that first refusal of hers—selfish, self-centred, -cowardly, prudent. I think you feel all through it a -restlessness, a dissatisfaction, a vacillation, a nervous -excitement, a sense of uneasiness, a hidden doubt -whether in saving her life she may not be losing it. -Read that reply now, when she pledges herself to go -and dare the king's deadly rage. How grand, and -majestic, and calm it rings out! solemn, earnest, like -the voice of a brave veteran going on a forlorn hope, -but with the tranquillity, the serene certainty, of a -brave heart doing what it knows to be duty. Ah, the -man that goes through this world regardless of right or -wrong, not asking what is duty, taking and choosing -what shall be for his own advantage, trimming, and -chopping, and setting his sails to catch every breeze of -dishonourable prosperity, the restless heart that made -response hanging upon himself, every step his own, if -wrong then the upbraiding and the remorse all will be -his. Oh, the sweetness, the grandeur, the calmness of -the man who has asked simply, in any circumstances -of danger and difficulty, "What is right? what is -duty? what is the will of God? what alone can -and ought to be done?" and then does it, ay, with -death hanging over. He can sleep tranquilly. He is -not responsible for the issue, no matter what it be. -Here on earth he has done the right, done his duty, -and the responsibility rests on God.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">{204}</a></span> -Esther, by that deed of heroism, delivered God's -people from destruction. In her measure she did the -same thing that Christ did perfectly later. Like Him, -too, she laid her own life down on the altar. That it -was not sacrificed does not diminish the value of the -offering. A man does not need to perish in saving -another from drowning, if he plunge into the wild, -stormy sea, to deserve an admiration as great as if he -had perished in the task.</p> - -<p>She did a deed of Christ. That deed roused the -admiration of her day and generation. That deed of -hers was told with kindling eyes and ringing voice, -and pride and triumph, from father to child, generation -after generation. That deed of hers stood out as a -pledge, a guarantee, of the reality of God's purpose for -His kingdom on earth. By her deed, in her own day -and generation, she saved God's people from imminent -destruction; by that deed, preserved in history, she -lifted up and made strong the hope and faith of generations -after. And so, rightfully, her story finds its -place in that long record of the hearts, noble, and brave, -and true, who, for love of men and faith in God, at the -bidding of Heaven, loved not their own lives to death, -but laid them down for their brethren.</p> - -<p>Oh, we men and women have got to learn this lesson -from this Bible of ours—the real service of God, that -is real religion, and that does build God's kingdom on -earth, is done not altogether, by a long way, in our -churches, in our religious exercises of worship; but -done in purity, love, and truth, and goodness, out of -generous kindliness to one another, at the bidding of -God, through all the common chapters that make up -our daily life.</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">{205}</a></div> - -<h2>X.<br /> -<i>THE EXAMPLE OF THE PROPHETS.</i></h2> - -<p class="small">"Take, my brethren, the prophets, who have spoken in the name of -the Lord, for an example."—<span class="smc">James</span> v. 10.</p> - -<p class="drop-cap">WE possess the books produced in olden times by -a number of different nations. Each national -literature has its own peculiarities. The literature of -Israel has various features that are very characteristic -of it. Among them all, one stands out and is unique. -All along the nation had a conviction that they were -destined to be the greatest nation in the world, and -they believed that this destiny of theirs lay in the fact -that through their government the world was to be -made good, righteous, holy, and happy. They believed -that God had a large plan, embracing the whole world -in its operations; they believed that God was using all -the different races as tools to work out that design of -His; but they held that infinitely beyond all lesser -instruments, He had made up His mind to employ -Israel in accomplishing that great purpose of His high -heart; through Israel He was to make the whole world -into one Divine kingdom, ruled by Himself, and reverencing -Himself as the one only God and Lord.</p> - -<p>The mass of the people constantly forgot that sense -of a lofty destiny; they constantly tired of that great -ideal; they chose to prefer present gain and advantage; -they disregarded that predicted end of their history in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">{206}</a></span> -determining their contemporary policy in relation to -other nations; they were dumb, and blind, and deaf to -that feeling of God's movement in history and His purpose -for the future. Nevertheless, in every age down -through that nation's story there existed in their midst -men who were possessed by a supreme conviction of -this presence, and power, and purpose of God, men -who sacrificed bread, profession, home, happiness, and -life itself, that they might seek to carry out that intention -and desire of God. In every age they declared -what God wanted Israel to be and to do. In every -age they recommended a policy founded on that destiny -of Israel and that design of God. The darker the -national history grew, the more decided was their -certainty of the fulfilment of God's purpose. But this -singular change took place in the form in which they -conceived that fulfilment: In the earlier times Israel—the -whole nation—was to be the minister of God's -intention; but as age after age exhibited the depravity, -the unholiness, and the jealousy of the nation, the -thought of the coming kingdom of promise, and of -gladness and goodness, concentrated itself not so much -about the people, but about the King. More and more, -it was not the chosen <i>people</i> of Israel, but it was the -chosen <i>Son</i> of Israel, the chosen Heir of David, the -coming Deliverer, the King, that was to bring it in. -It is a strange spectacle to behold how God, by His -external dealings with the people of Israel, and by the -development of their conduct, led His servants the -prophets to see that if ever this grand purpose of God -for mankind was to be accomplished, it could not be -done by the whole people, or any number of them, but -must be done by one single individual, who should -combine in his character all the goodness, and all the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">{207}</a></span> -truth, and all the knowledge, and all the power of God -that were necessary to make a kingdom of God on -earth. So it came to pass that inside the progress of -Israel's history, as a wall down the long march of that -history, there was a line of men first of all foreseeing a -grand future, mainly connected with Israel in the government -of the nation, and gradually defining more brightly -the covenant, and the establishment, and the maintenance -of that kingdom as contained in the person, in -the character, in the work, in the heart, in the sufferings, -in the triumph of a great coming Messenger of -God, a Man of God, a Son of God, yet so stamped with -Divinity that He gets names which set Him on a level -with God. It is the long procession of prophets, the -line of foreseers, who, in succession to the patriarchs, -touch, ages in advance, the coming of Christ, and make -the world expect it, and preserve faith in mankind till -Christ does come.</p> - -<p>The history of these men within their own nation is -striking. As a rule, they stood in a small minority, -were despised and disbelieved, had to maintain the -truth of their Divine conviction in the face of almost -universal denial, were ill-treated and persecuted, were -declared to be impostors or traitors to the national -cause, were cast out, and an immense number of them -were killed. But as time rolled on the development of -events proved that those men had seen the calamities -and vengeances of God which had been foretold as -about to fall on Israel, because of Israel's sin. The -people were cast out of their own native land; they -were driven into captivity, and in captivity they remembered -what the prophets had spoken; and then, with -humble hearts and penitent spirits, they said to themselves -"Those men were right; they spoke true; they -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">{208}</a></span> -anticipated what has come to pass; God was with -them; they were His messengers; we were in the -wrong; it was a true word from heaven that they -uttered amongst us;" and so the old contempt and -disbelief vanished away, and there came a reverence -and a faith for those prophets that almost reached -the verge of superstition; they gathered together their -writings; they treasured them, and made the books of -those prophets into their Bible. It is in that fashion -that our own Old Testament of the prophets was -formed. The prophets were first rejected, derided, put to -death, and, then with repentance and humility, accepted -as the true messengers of God, taken as authoritative -interpreters of God's mind and will; their writings -were treasured and preserved, and made into the national -Bible.</p> - -<p>It is these prophets that the Apostle James bids us -take as an example. He means that every Christian -man and every Christian woman is, in a measure, to be -a prophet; He means especially that every Christian -man and every Christian woman in the battle of life -stands in some measure between God and others, and -is to be a prophet. He means further that every father -is to do for his children what those prophets did for -Israel—he is to make them know God. He means -that every mother is to be the very channel of making -her children come into contact with God's character, -and comprehend God's intentions for them. He means -especially that every Sunday-school teacher is to be -just what those old prophets were in Israel—to make -others who are more ignorant than he is sensible of -the presence, and purpose, and progression of God's -designs through life in his own present age and time. -He means that every preacher, and every teacher, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">{209}</a></span> -every man who speaks about religion is, in his conduct -and character, and what he teaches and what he -preaches, to be a prophet. And above all, he means -that one and all of us of this age shall, even down to -the humblest Christian, who hardly has any influence, -act as a mediator or interpreter between other men and -God, as did many of the prophets, with an unswerving -belief of the truth, and with a patience and perseverance -of spirit in every unenlightened time, and amidst the -most adverse circumstances, founded upon the certainty -of the fulfilment of God's promise that Christ should -come, and shall come again.</p> - -<p>Now I want to say a few things to you about the -character and the office of those prophets in the world, -that we may see some respects in which we may and -certainly ought to imitate them. What was a prophet? -I imagine that many of us are content with a very -superficial notion of the part played in actual life by -those men. I imagine, because of the class of books -that has been written in great profusion in our present -century, and is still written, that we are apt to think of -a prophet simply and only as a man who predicted -things that were going to happen—incidents and events -that were to fall out in the unfolding of history. The -prophets did a vast deal more than that, and the very -essence, and life, and grandeur of their character and -conduct appear only in a small fragment in that portion -of their office. Their real movement and meaning are -in quite another department.</p> - -<p>If we wish to know what a prophet is, we may, first -of all, take the names given to the prophets in the -Bible. Then, again, we may remember who were the -prophets. And then we may take their writings, the -records of their deeds, the history that tells of their -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">{210}</a></span> -fortunes. What are the names given to a prophet -in the Old Testament? The first and holiest is "a -man of God"—"the man of God." All that that tells -us is that in a peculiar sense the prophet belonged to -God. The next name is "the servant of God." That -tells us that he belonged to God in the sense of serving -God, doing things for God. Then he is called "the -ambassador, or the messenger, of God." That tells you -that he served God by bringing messages from God. -Then he is called an interpreter. That tells you that it -was to men he took God's message, and that he had to -make it understood by them. The next thing that we -come to is a "seer," connected with the word "watchman," -a spier or seer. It means one who saw what -other men could not see, who saw into God's mind, -who saw God, who saw what God was about. It tells -us how he got to know his message, how he learnt it; -it was by insight, seeing into the hidden, underlying -purposes of God. Then the last name of all is what -we translate "prophet," and it literally means a man -who bubbles up and runs over, whose heart gushes -out, in the sense of being poured into, that what is -poured in comes out of him. It tells us that he -pours out what he has learnt, to other men; and it -adds this shade of meaning (the very form of the -Hebrew word does so), that he is, as it were, spoken -through; it does not end with himself, nor does it take -its rise with himself, but it comes into him like a flood, -and it overflows; he cannot help himself; he is possessed, -he is pressed; he is compelled to utter what -his God tells him.</p> - -<p>The names of a prophet, therefore, tell us this; this -is his function; he, beyond other men, has to do with -God, belongs to God; he belongs to God in being -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">{211}</a></span> -God's servant; he is God's servant in being God's -messenger; he is God's messenger in bringing things to -men that God wants men to know; he learns what he -has to tell men by seeing it himself, by knowing it, -understanding it, feeling it, and then he utters it by a -resistless compulsion and impulse, the fire burning in -his heart, a pressure being put on him to tell what God -has taught him. Already you have got the thought of -a man with a grandeur, a greatness, a significance, and -a meaning immensely above what you think of when -you think of a man who can tell you where an axe -which has been lost is to be found, or whether a sick -person will die or live, or whether a town is going -to be destroyed or not. What you have is a living, -breathing, warming channel of communication between -the great God in heaven and the human hearts of men -on earth.</p> - -<p>Then, who were the prophets? Moses was a prophet, -the greatest of all the Old Testament prophets. -He was a prophet because of his whole life work, not -because once or twice he predicted a thing which was -going to happen. Because he was Moses, the moulder -and the maker of Israel, and the giver to them of all -their knowledge about God which is contained in God's -law, therefore Moses was a prophet. Samuel was a -prophet; Saul the king was a prophet for one night, -when he lay on the ground in an ecstasy, and uttered -strange sayings. There were all kinds of prophets; I -cannot deal with them all. Isaiah was a prophet; -Daniel was a prophet supremely. Christ was <i>the</i> Prophet, -and the complete Prophet. How? Because He -foretold the doom of Jerusalem? Because He foretold -His own death? Undoubtedly because He did those -things; but that was not why He was called the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">{212}</a></span> -Prophet. Why was it? A very excellent book, the -Shorter Catechism, puts it better than I can: "Jesus -Christ is a Prophet in making known to us the mind -and will of God for our salvation."</p> - -<p>I put this deliberately and very strongly, almost -unduly depreciating the idea of foretelling future events, -just because I know from my own experience, and certainly -from the experience of others, that one thinks -that the latter is the whole meaning of the word. It is -startling and intensely interesting when you can pick -out a prediction which was uttered ages before, and -which was afterwards fulfilled. By all means take -that; but never forget that, just like Christ's miracles, -it was, as it were, only the accompaniment of the prophet's -main work as a prophet, and that the real work -of a prophet is making known unto us the whole character, -and heart, and mind, and will of God, as these are -revealed in working out the world's salvation.</p> - -<p>If you turn to the writings of the prophets in the -Old Testament you instantly discover that that is the -true idea of a prophet. Take Isaiah, take Micah, take -Jeremiah, take any prophet you please; every here -and there you come upon a prediction—"Babylon -shall be destroyed;" "Nineveh shall be destroyed." -Yes, but it is one prediction, as an impassioned declaration -of God's ways to men, showing how He must punish -their wickedness, and must visit the impenitent. But -the story of God's character and dealings for the world's -redemption is, after all, the grand substance of Old -Testament prophecy; it is a record of God's pity for -mankind, and His determination to make them holy and -happy, and of the fact that it is all to be done by the -great coming Christ, the world's Sacrifice and the world's -Saviour.</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">{213}</a></div> - -<p>And when you are told to take the prophets as your -example do not go away saying, "I cannot predict -future events, and astonish people, and make them -feel that I have some supernatural power." No, they -could not be <i>that</i> example to you. A prophet was -a man who knew the character of the true and living -God; and because he knew and loved Him, and was -living with Him, he made other men know Him, and -feel Him, and understand Him too.</p> - -<p>I have no time to enter into all the questions concerning -the precise manner in which the prophet got to -know God's mind and will—by dream, in ecstasy, in -lofty rapt thought, in wonderful insight into the Spirit -of God, and sometimes by a vision like that of Isaiah, -where he "saw the Lord, high and lifted up," on His -throne. Or, the prophet got to know God in a similar -way to that which we read of in the case of the child -Samuel, when the voice of God in the lonely Temple -struck upon the child's ear so that there was nothing -startling, and he thought it was his master's voice -calling him; but he lived to see the terrible fulfilment -of the first teaching which God gave to the child, in -that which befell the master. I have no time to go -into all that, nor to enter largely into the place and -purpose of the prophets in working out that history -which shows, when properly understood, nothing else -but the growth of the Spirit of Jesus Christ through -the ages, till that Spirit came in its completion in Jesus -the Son of Mary; for <i>there</i> is the whole meaning of -the prophets in Israel; they were an incarnation of -the very same heart, and mind, and will of the Divine -dispensation and of God for the world's redemption -which were in Jesus; it was the Spirit of Jesus. And -do not put away the words as a mere figure unless -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">{214}</a></span> -you put away the words as a mere figure when you -read that Jesus was the incarnate Son of God. It was -the very Spirit of God. The same Spirit as was consummate -in Jesus, the perfect Prophet because the -perfect Revelation of God, in its measure was present -in every prophet who made the people believe God -as they had never done before, and recognise His -presence in the history of their time. The prophets -taught them to repent of their sin, to live for God, to -take their share in the great conflicts for righteousness -that God was fighting in their age. In a measure the -Spirit of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the Saviour of -the world, was present in every age of it. There is -scarcely any occurrence, any story, any Psalm, in the -prophecies of the Old Testament, which has not an -application to Jesus Christ, and a meaning showing -that He is in it. It is made a specimen, as it were, of -all that is practically to be found in Him. The history -of Israel in prophecy, which was the rising and the -beginning of the future history of Israel, was just the -growing of Jesus through the ages, till at length He -culminated in the Son of Mary.</p> - -<p>I want to-day rather to tell you some of the qualifications -of a prophet—some of the elements of character -that a man must have if he is to play the part of a -prophet to the people he lives among, bidding myself -and you take the prophets as an example. One thing -is remarkable—the office of a prophet was not hereditary. -The great departments of God's government, -and teaching, and dealings with Israel were the kingship, -the priesthood, and the prophethood—the rule, the -fellowship, and the teaching and guidance. Now, all -these culminated in Jesus; He is Prophet, Priest, and -King. In Israel no mere man or body of men was fit in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">{215}</a></span> -unity to fill those offices; they were distributed. The -burden was too great, the power was too grand, for any -single man, except the perfect Son of Man, to combine -them in their fulness, and so they were divided in Israel, -to be reunited in the perfect embodiment of Israel, God, -Prophet, Priest, and King to the people. God's meaning -was that all Israel in its completeness should be king, -and prophet, and priest, without any active, separated, -divided government; that it should be a theocracy, as -God's kingdom, ruling themselves, every one of them -being a king to God, every one of them being a priest, -every one of them being able to come direct to God for -himself, and to bring his prayers to God without any -intervention of man; in the same way every man, as a -prophet, hearing God's voice direct to his heart, and -being taught the truth that God revealed. God wanted -them all to be prophets; God wanted them all to be -priests; God wanted them all to be kings: but they were -not fit for it, and so among them special men had to be -cultivated to fill those offices. Now, there is this distinction -between those divided offices or faculties of -God's rule and guidance in Israel: the kingship was -hereditary; the priesthood was hereditary: the prophethood -was never hereditary. A priest's son was born -a priest; a king's son was born a king: a prophet's son -was not born a prophet. The prophets were selected, -not born. Why? Because it was the supreme and -grandest office, the most difficult, the most responsible, -the most sacred. Any man was fit to be a -priest, to conduct the ritual and external ordinances of -worship, through which men's hearts were brought to -God. And any man, comparatively, might be a king, -so long as he devoted to his office that amount of -thought and time which was necessary. It needed no -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">{216}</a></span> -special moral qualifications and no special insight. A -man was the better who had these, but he could be a -good enough king without them. But a prophet could -not be born a prophet; a prophet had to be chosen, a -prophet had to be made by God. And the reason was -this: the prophethood was a creative office and function. -God's dealings with Israel were not done when He had -given the ancient economy of a religious priesthood -and kingdom. God had to reshape, and remodel, and -adopt His laws, and teaching, and meaning, and the -outward ordinances of religion to every age. As the -nation both externally and internally altered, new teaching -had to come to it at the hands of the prophets.</p> - -<p>Were the priests the channel by which God could -do it? Their duty was fixed, and in the law, as well -as in the form of government, men could not err; they -could follow the Divine precepts exactly in administering -them. But when an addition has to be made, and -a remoulding to take place, it wants a man capable of -entering with strange, grand insight into God's purposes, -a man with eyes, with soul; it needs a man lifted up. -And so the prophets' office was never hereditary; they -were always selected; God chose them; why? Why -did God choose one man, and not another? I think that -He chose a man, first of all, who had a natural adaptation, -who had rare powers of mind, who had rare genius -and sympathetic feeling, and not a mere presentiment of -the movements of the world and its destiny as it went on -round about him. I think that, as a rule, God selected -a man with a natural adaptation, and prepared him for -all that he had to do and tell. It transformed a man's -life; it took him clean out of the common world in which -men lived. We presume that it was so from what is recorded, -and from the facts which we know concerning the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">{217}</a></span> -prophets' characters and lives. God caused something -to happen to a man that made God appear to him what -He was not to common men. An awful vision was presented -to Isaiah of the great, grand God, and thenceforth -all earthly considerations were nothing to Isaiah. He -had seen <i>God</i>, and the future was God's making. In the -face of empires, however mighty in name and in armies, -it is the will of God that settles the future, and such a -man disregards all earthly advantages; he knows that -God means to do His deed; he says, "It shall be done; -and if you set yourselves against it there is no other end -than destruction, which is sure to fall upon you, for -God will do the deed which He means to do." It was -a revelation of <i>God</i> which made the man a prophet; it -made him a man who felt God to be supreme; it made -him to be certain of God's sovereignty, and absoluteness, -and the goodness of God's authority; so that -nothing could induce him to swerve from the path that -God appointed for him. He was a man who stood like -a rock amidst the earthly, selfish, planning, scheming -men of his time, and declared the future truly, because -he had seen God's meaning, and held men to it; and -when they would not be so held he was content to -die, declaring the truth of his message, and looking -forward to the time when the future would manifest -its truth. He was a fit prophet, a living teacher, who -spoke of the future—a grand man, with a grand office -and a grand destiny to play in the world.</p> - -<p>The man, the father, the mother, the teacher, the -preacher, who takes the prophets as examples, who -will play his destined part in his own little home, in -his own Sunday-school class, in his own congregation, -in his own neighbourhood, in the great world round -about him, must be a prophet; he must be a man who -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">{218}</a></span> -knows God; he must be a man who feels God to be -all about him; he must be a man who is not merely -orthodox in theology, and believes all that is written -about God's dealings in the past; but he must be a -man that will make you know that God is living, and -moving, and loving in the events of his own time; he -must be a man who recognises God in the providences -of his own life; he must be a man who does not shape -his conduct for earthly gain or for social advantage; -he must be a man despising all these things, and -paying heed to his own high destiny, yet whose character -and conduct move on the lines which I have -indicated; who says, "God is making me great, but -He bids me live as He lives—but He bids me sacrifice -friends and home; I <i>must</i> do it; I <i>must</i> tell this truth, -though all good men should be against me, for I have -learnt it of God, at my risk of having mistaken its -meaning; yet I must speak it." Ay, even if such -a man makes mistakes in learning this new lesson of -God, and does not read it quite right, even if he -goes wrong, nevertheless he has life in him, Divine -life; he has honesty; he is a true man; he is a man -who is not of the world; he is a man who is not a -mere ecclesiastic; he is a man who is not a mere -self-seeker. That man does God's work on earth. And -I venture to say that in the Church's story you will -find that there has been a succession of men who have -done what was the work of the priest in the old time, -and there has been a succession of men who have -done the work of the prophet. You need both; you need -the priest, to keep alive, as it were, the ordinary level -of religion, to preserve some sort of uniformity; and -in the Church's story you will find that God has raised -up prophets, men who sometimes broke loose, who -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">{219}</a></span> -were not always true, who sometimes mistook God's -meaning, who had but little of the character of the old -prophets, and yet who taught truth, and adapted the -old ecclesiastical doctrines to the new necessities, suiting -their work to the age; and though disbelieved and -openly denounced in their own day, they have become -our teachers since. What of the Reformers? what -of Wesley? what of Whitefield? what of many another -name, much nearer our own time, but which does not -diminish the effect of the general principle? Ay, and -what of men not so good and great as these, but who -had life in them; who broke up the stagnation of ecclesiastical -life, and brought new faith to men; who by -their dazzling earnestness, and spiritual insight, and their -teaching brought up the ordinary level of God's presence? -Thank God it is so. It is the lot of the human -prophet and priest, and of similar teachers, in our day, -to make men know that there is a God, and a Christ, -and a soul to be saved, and that they are men, and not -mere machines. Thank God for it; but pray God to -make you and me true prophets; pray God to give us -the passion of prophets, to give us sympathy with all -the wants of the age, to give us to know that He is -moving, to give us to know what new teachings come -from Him; pray God to give us generosity, and self-sacrifice, -and liberality, and largeness of heart, with -our means, with our abilities, with our whole soul, -with our prayers and spirits, and all that we have, to -play our part as faithful prophets in the world's story, -showing men God, and winning them to follow Him.</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">{220}</a></div> - -<h2>XI.<br /> -<i>THE MAKING OF A PROPHET.</i><span class="fnanchor"><a name="Ref_2" -id="Ref_2" href="#Foot_2">[2]</a></span></h2> - -<p class="small">"In the year that King Uzziah died I saw the Lord sitting upon a -throne, high and lifted up, and His train overspreading the temple -floor. Seraphs were poised above, each with six wings, with twain -veiling his face, with twain veiling his feet, and with twain hovering. -And those on one side sang in responsive chorus with those on the -other side, saying, 'Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts.' 'The -fulness of the whole earth is His glory.' And the foundations of the -threshold trembled at the sound of that singing, and the house was -filled with incense smoke. Then cried I, 'Woe is me! for I am a -dead man; because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the -midst of a people of unclean lips; for mine eyes have seen the King, -the Lord of hosts.' Then flew one of the seraphs unto me, having in -his hand a burning ember, which with a tongs he had taken from off -the incense altar; and he touched my mouth with it, and said, 'Lo, this -hath touched thy lips; and thine iniquity is taken away, and thy sin -purged.' Thereupon I heard the voice of the Lord, saying, 'Whom -shall I send, and who will go for us?' Then I cried, 'See me; send -me.'"—<span class="smc">Isaiah</span> vi. 1-8 (<i>annotated</i>).</p> - -<p class="drop-cap">ISAIAH was a prophet. A prophet, we say, was a -man who foretold future events. It is not an apt -description. He did that, and much more besides. -He interpreted past, present, and future alike in the -light of eternal truth. But his supreme concern was -with the present, and he cared for the past and the -future only as they threw light on the problems of -instant, pressing duty. The prophet was no dealer in -futurities, no dreamer babbling to an age unborn. He -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">{221}</a></span> -was a potent actor in history, living and working amid -the actual sins, and sorrows, and struggles of his day -and generation.</p> - -<p>Read the memoirs of Isaiah, and you will see how -intense and intimate was the part he played in the life -and movement of his age. One day you will find him -at the Temple, scathing with scornful reprobation the -hypocrisy and hollowness of the established ritual of -religion. Another time he has taken his stand over -against the fashionable promenade of Jerusalem, and -as he watches the passing procession of pomp and -opulence, built up on the misery and degradation of -defenceless poverty, his heart grows hot with honest -indignation, and he breaks into impassioned invective -against the stream of selfish luxury, as it rolls by with -a smiling face and a cruel heart. Again, he forces his -way into a meeting of the Privy Council, fearlessly confronts -the King and his advisers, denounces the iniquity -of a faithless foreign policy and sternly demands its -abandonment. In every department of national life, in -every section of social and religious existence, his voice -was heard and his personality felt. Yet nobody ever -mistook him for a mere politician, philanthropist, or -reformer. He was ever, and was ever felt to be, a -prophet. For he did not speak like other men, he did -not act like other men, he did not reason like other -men. He spoke not for himself, but for God. He -claimed for his speech, not the persuasiveness of human -probability, but the imperativeness of Divine certainty. -He relied solely on the coercive power of truth. He -did not touch the tools of political partisanship or -scheming statecraft. He cared nothing for the suggestions -of expediency; he defied the most certain -conclusions of earthly wisdom, and followed absolutely -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">{222}</a></span> -the bidding of an unseen guidance. He was a man -taken possession of by an irresistible perception of the -will of God, and an all-absorbing passion to have that -will done on earth. He held in the commonwealth -the place that is held by that inexorable voice which, -deaf to all balancings of earthly gain or loss, unflinchingly -proclaims the antithesis of right and wrong, and -imperatively demands that right shall be obeyed. The -prophet was the conscience of the nation. Preachers -and teachers of religion, that is what England asks of -us. It is a high calling.</p> - -<p>The office of a prophet was not an easy one. The -man had to hazard or sacrifice most of those things -that men count dear—property, popularity, home. -Every day he had to take his life in his hand, as he -risked the rage of a royal tyrant, or faced the fury of -insensate mobs. Still harder was it to stand alone in -his faith and opinion, rejected by the multitude, by the -wealth, by the wisdom of his day, mocked or pitied as -a madman; hardest of all to see his efforts foiled, his -country humiliated, his people depraved, to feel his -heart sink within him, to struggle with dark misgivings, -to doubt the reality of the Divine prompting, -and despairingly to ask whether this world were indeed -governed by a righteous Will, or were not rather the -sport of blind caprice or the slave of iron fate! Ah! -it was not easy to be a prophet. Before a man could -become a prophet he needed to possess a knowledge of -God of such absolute certainty as nothing could shake. -Once at least in his life he must have come into actual -contact with God.</p> - -<p>The experience that made Isaiah a prophet took the -form of a vision. It happened in a period of distressing -perplexity and gloom. Wrestling passionately with the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">{223}</a></span> -darkness, craving wistfully for light, the yearning to see -God in the man's soul became so intense and sensitive -that the great Heart in heaven answered the longing of -the heart on earth, and aspiration leapt into realisation, -and faith flashed into vision. On a throne, high and -lifted up, crowning and dominating all things, fixed on -immovable foundations, untouched by the changes of -time, unshaken by the shocks of history, Isaiah beheld, -seated in sovereign supremacy, a Form of ineffable -splendour, the power and presence of the Eternal in -awful actuality, beyond all doubt or question the Lord -of the universe and the Arbiter of destiny. Henceforth -he could never doubt the being and the might of God. -That is a great experience, but it leaves the heart -unsatisfied. We want to know the nature, the character -of this God, who holds our fortunes in His awful hands. -Is He good, and just, and gentle, or hard, and cold, and -cruel? The answer came to Isaiah in the seraphs' song -of adoration, with its ascription of perfect triune holiness. -It told him that in God is light, and no darkness at all. -Through and through, utterly and absolutely, in every -chord and fibre of His being, there is no baseness, no -harshness, no injustice; there is nothing but stainless -purity and splendour, nothing but radiant justice, -goodness, and truth. "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord -of hosts." Still, one wistful doubt, one anxious question, -lingers in the human heart. For what were our -poor world the better of this holy God if He be content -to sit aloof in the light and glory of heaven, leaving the -web of human story to be woven by the blundering -fingers of sinning, erring men on earth? That fear, -too, was laid for ever in Isaiah's soul by the comforting -response of the seraphs' chorus. God does not sit -apart in frigid isolation, but with His own hands He -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">{224}</a></span> -guides and controls our lost world's course. Into its -strange, sad, perplexing progress He is pouring the -goodness, truth, and love of His holy heart; and so -when the record is finished and fulfilled, every page -and syllable shall shine with that hidden holiness come -to manifested light and splendour. "The fulness of -the whole earth is His glory!" That sight of God—the -living, holy, loving God—made Isaiah a prophet. -Preachers and teachers of to-day, if we are to be -prophets, we need just such a sight of God.</p> - -<p>The vision of God made Isaiah a prophet; but the -immediate effect was something very different. The -first effect of contact with God was to produce in his -soul an intolerable sense of sin. "Woe is me! for I -am undone; because I am a man of unclean lips, and -I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips: for -mine eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts." -Was, then, Isaiah an exceptionally wicked man? -Hardly, when God chose him as His ambassador. But -if not, is, then, the proper effect on a good man of an -access of nearness to God an overwhelming consciousness -of personal defilement? What else should it be? -Had Isaiah been a Pharisee, he would have seized the -opportunity of his sudden vicinity to the Almighty to -direct the Divine attention to his virtues, and excellence, -and superiority over other men. Had he been one of -those philosophers in whom the heart has been overlaid -by the intellect, he would have calmly proceeded to -make observations on the Divine for a new theory of -the Absolute and Unconditioned, in sublime insensibility -to the deepest problem of existence, the awful antithesis -of human sin and of Divine holiness. Because Isaiah -was a good man, his new proximity to God woke -within him a crushing horror of defilement and undoneness. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">{225}</a></span> -And it was so precisely because he had never -been so near to God before, and had never felt himself -of so much importance. Away down here, sinning -among his fellow-men, the blots and blemishes of his -soul seemed of little moment. But up there, in the -stainless light of heaven, with God's holy eyes resting -on him, every spot of sin within him grew hot and -horrible, every defiling stain an insult and a suffering -inflicted on the sensitive holiness of God. What he -does has an effect on God; what he is, is of consequence -to God. Never had Isaiah felt himself so near -to God; never had he felt himself of such importance -to his Maker; and therefore never had he felt his sin -so black and so unpardonable. Believe me, these two -things are linked together, and no man can divorce -them—the dignity of humanity and the damnableness -of sin. You cannot tamper with the one without touching -the other. Men may, of laxity or of pitifulness, -seek to extenuate the guilt of sin and its infinite possibilities -of woes; but be sure of this, they will be -compelled ere long to attenuate the moral grandeur of -our human nature, and to surrender its majestic birthright -of immortality. Two things go hand in hand -through the Bible, from the first chapter to the last, -and mark it out from all other books: the one is its -unique and awful sense of the guiltiness of sin; the -other is the quite unapproachable splendour of its conception -of the dignity of man, made in the image of -God, and destined for His service here, and the fellowship -of His love for evermore.</p> - -<p>The ethical process by which, in the imagery of the -vision, Isaiah's sense of sinfulness came home to him, -is finely natural and simple. It was at his lips that -the consciousness of his impurity caught him. "Woe -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">{226}</a></span> -is me! for I am undone; because I am a man of -unclean lips." That, judged by our formulas and -standards, might seem a somewhat superficial conviction -of sin. We should have expected him to speak of -his unclean heart, or the total corruption of his whole -nature. But conviction of sin, actual conviction of sin, -is very regardless of our theories, and is as diverse in -its manifestations as are the characters and records of -men. Sin finds out one man in one place, and another -in a quite different spot, and perhaps the experience -is most real when it is least theological. Isaiah felt -his defilement in his lips, for suddenly he found himself -at heaven's gate, gazing on the glory of God, and -listening to the seraphs' ceaseless song of adoring -praise. Isaiah loved God, and instinctively he prepared -to join his voice to the seraphs' chant, but ere -the harmony could pass his lips he caught his breath -and was dumb. A horrible sense of uncleanness had -seized him. His breath was tainted by his sin. He -dared not mingle his polluted praise with the worship -of that pure, sinless host of heaven. Oh, the shame -and agony of that disability! for it meant that he has -no part or place in that fair scene. He is an alien and -an intruder. Its beauty and its sweetness are not for -him. He belongs to a very different scene and a very -different company. He is no inhabitant of heaven, no -servant of God; but a denizen of earth, and a companion -of sinners. Down there, amid its squalor, and -shame, and uncleanness, is his dwelling-place, remote -from heaven, and holiness, and God. "Woe is me! -because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in -the midst of a people of unclean lips." With that, the -horror of his situation reached its climax. He stands -there, on the threshold of heaven in full sight of God -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">{227}</a></span> -and of His holiness, dumb and praiseless, while all -heaven rings and reverberates with the worship of its -adoring hosts. The awful tremor of that celestial praise -passed into Isaiah's frame, and it seemed like the pangs -of instant dissolution. He, a creature of God's, stands -there in his Maker's presence, alone mute, alone refusing -to chant his Creator's glory, a blot and blank in the -holy harmony of heaven, a horrible and foul blemish -amid the unsullied purity of that celestial scene. It -seemed to Isaiah as if all the light, and glory, and -holiness of heaven were gathering itself into one fierce -lightning fire of vengeance, to overwhelm and crush -him out of existence. "Woe is me! for I am undone; -because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the -midst of a people of unclean lips: for mine eyes have -seen the King, the Lord of hosts."</p> - -<p>Isaiah in the presence of God felt within him the -pang of that death which must be the end of unpardoned -sin in contact with the Divine holiness. He -felt himself already as good as dead, yet never in all -his life had he so longed to live as now, in sight of -God, and heaven, and holiness. He did not ask to -escape. He was too overwhelmed to pray or hope. -But to God's heart that cry of despair was an infinitely -persuasive prayer for mercy. Ah! Heaven needs no -lengthy explanation, nor requires the recital of prescribed -forms or theories. The moment a sinful soul -turns loathingly from sin, and longingly to God and -goodness, that instant the Heart above responds, and -meets it with pity, pardon, hope. Ere the piteous echo -of Isaiah's cry had died away, one of the seraphs flew -with a burning ember from the incense altar, and laid -it on Isaiah's mouth, and said, "Lo, this hath touched -thy lips; and thine iniquity is taken away, and thy sin -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">{228}</a></span> -purged." The action is of course symbolic, but the -thing symbolised is a great spiritual fact. In it we -have mirrored the very heart of the process of redemption. -The cleansing efficacy of the burning ember -resided not in the ember, but in the Divine fire contained -in it. In the imagery of sacrifice the fire is -always conceived as God's method of accepting and -taking to Himself the offering. The sacred flame that -comes down from God, licks up the sacrifice, and in -vapour carries it up to heaven; a sweet-smelling savour -represents, therefore, the pitying holiness of God, that -stoops forgivingly to sinful men, and graciously accepts -and sanctifies them and their sacrifices. Contact with -that has sin-cleansing power, and nothing has besides. -Pagan sages and Christian saints alike unite in proclaiming -the overmastering strength of sin. Mightier -than nature's most potent forces, stronger than all -influences of persuasion, not to be reversed or uprooted -by any resources of earthly origin, is the grasp of -inveterate sin within the sinner's soul. Is there, then, -no possibility of recovery, no way of cleansing, no -ray of hope? One there is, and one alone. If Divine -Purity would but stoop in pity to the sinful one, would -but enter, in claiming love, into his polluted soul, would -but come into actual contact and conflict with the sin -and uncleanness in a decisive struggle of triumph or -defeat, then which must prove the stronger, which must -conquer—human sinfulness or Divine holiness? Ay, -if only God so loves our sin-stained race as that His -stainless purity enters really into our humanity, and -wrestles with our impurity in a contact that must be -suffering to the Divine holiness, and is sin-cleansing to -us, that were salvation surely, that were redemption. -But is it a reality? Brethren, Jesus Christ has lived, -and died, and lives again, and we know that His Holy -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">{229}</a></span> -Spirit dwells in us and in our world. That, and that -alone, is salvation—not any theories, nor any rites, but -God's Holy Spirit given unto us.</p> - -<p>It was at Isaiah's lips that the sense of sin had stung -him, and it was there that he received the cleansing. -The seraph laid the hot ember on his lips, and it left -about his mouth the fragrance of the celestial incense. -He felt that he breathed the atmosphere and purity of -heaven. He too might now join in heaven's praise -and service; no more an alien, but a member of the -celestial choir and a servant of the King. That act of -Divine mercy had transformed him. He was a new -creature, and instantly the change appeared. The -voice of God sounds through the temple, saying, -"Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?" And -the first of all heaven's hosts to offer is Isaiah. A -moment before he had shrunk back, crushed and -despairing, from God's presence, feeling as if the Divine -gaze were death to him. Now he springs forward, -invokes God's attention on himself, and before all -heaven's tried and trusty messengers proposes himself -as God's ambassador. Was it presumption? was it -self-assertion? I think if ever Isaiah was not thinking -of himself at all, if ever he had utterly forgotten self, -and pride, and all things, and was conscious only of -God, and goodness, and gratitude, it was then, when -his heart was running over with wonder, love, and -praise for God's unspeakable mercy to him. It was -not presumption; it was a true and beautiful instinct, -that made him yearn with resistless longing to do -something for that God who had shown such grace -to him. Oh, the tender love and irrepressible devotion -of a forgiven heart! Nothing can restrain it, nothing -hold it back. Salvation, real salvation, springs resistlessly -onward into service.</p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="nodent"><a name="Foot_2" id="Foot_2" href="#Ref_2">[2]</a> -Preached at Nottingham, before the Congregational Union of -England and Wales, on Monday evening, October 8th, 1888.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">{230}</a></div> - -<h2>XII.<br /> -<i>FOR AND AGAINST CHRIST.</i></h2> - -<p class="small">"He that is not with Me is against Me: and he that gathereth not -with Me scattereth."—<span class="smc">Luke</span> xi. 23.</p> - -<p class="small">"He that is not against us is on our part."—<span class="smc">Mark</span> ix. 40.</p> - -<p class="drop-cap">IT has never been an easy task to settle with any -degree of exactitude who among men should be -reckoned the Saviour's friends, and who His foes. But -perhaps no time has surrounded the problem with such -difficulties as those that arise from the circumstances -of our own age. On every side we see truth and error -intertwined in such a perplexing tangle that we scarce -know on which side to rank men and parties. The -Church of Christ is divided into so many divergent -sections, within which good and evil are so strangely -combined, that you can hardly tell if they are for Christ -or against. You find men of unexceptionable profession -and ample creed, but with a jarring life and scant -morality. On the other hand, you see men whose creed -is erroneous or imperfect, but whose life and character -are instinct with the spirit of Christ. And amid such -anomalies you feel it almost impossible to determine, -with even an approach to certainty, whom you shall -count followers, and whom foes, of the Lord Jesus -Christ.</p> - -<p>True, we are not called to sit in judgment on the -inner state of heart, the hidden attitude of men's spirits, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">{231}</a></span> -which is cognisable only by "larger, other eyes than -ours;" yet we must for practical guidance form a -conditional opinion regarding the position and action of -our fellow-men; for so alone can we determine our treatment -of them; so alone can we decide whether it is our -duty to oppose or co-operate with them, to acknowledge -them as brethren or deny to them the name of Christ.</p> - -<p>Besides, for your own comfort, you must have some -standard or test to determine who are Christ's and who -are not, for otherwise how shall you be able to adjudicate -on your own case? You are confronted, it may be, by -large and influential bodies of Christians who declare -you to be no member of Christ's Church at all, because -you do not follow after them. You feel all the -weight that attends such a verdict; you are sensible of -the solemn, tragic awfulness of the question; you are -humble, diffident, uncertain yourself of many things, -and so, perchance, your heart knows little rest or -peace. You would give much to ascertain some sure -test by which you could settle, once and for ever, -whether you are on Christ's side or against Him.</p> - -<p>For our guidance in such matters we can do no better -thing than to try and understand how the Saviour, -when He was on earth, estimated the attitudes of men to -Himself. Let us try, then, to determine the principles -that guided Him.</p> - -<p>He had come with a very definite aim in view, viz., -to establish a kingdom of heaven on earth; that is to -say, to secure the domination of men's hearts by God's -will, so that they should always act in accordance with -the Divine decrees. Or, in other words, He had come -to perform this work of delivering men from sin, of -making them pure, and holy, and Godlike. For this -end, He sought to bring them under His immediate -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">{232}</a></span> -influence, to gather and attach them to His Person, to -inspire them with faith and love for Himself. All who -aided in this, all who contributed to draw men to Him, -all who strove to make Christ and His word accepted -and esteemed, all who were at one with Him in His -aim, manifestly, were counted by Him as friends; -while, on the contrary, those who exerted themselves to -thwart Him, who endeavoured to alienate men from -His Person and doctrine, all such were His enemies, -were against Him.</p> - -<p>"But," you may be inclined to say, "while it is true -there were some men who did devote themselves to -active support of Christ, and others who did commit -themselves to declared hostility, was there not, between -these two opposing classes, a large number who took -sides neither for nor against Him, but preserved a -sort of neutrality? What, then, does Christ say of -these?" The two sayings of our Lord which I have -taken for my text have both been applied to solve this -problem. At first sight they have the appearance of -clashing with one another. "He that is not with Me -is against Me" seems to be a declaration that all who -were not positive friends were really enemies, and thus -to imply that the Master classed this whole body of -neutrals as foes; and so some use it. But again, the -second saying, "He that is not against us is on our -part," has the appearance of asserting that all who are -not declared foes are in reality the Saviour's friends, -and so, according to this principle, all neutrals should -be counted as allies. The appearance of discrepancy -only lasts when you look at these sayings singly and -apart from their occasions. They speak not of neutrals -at all. Taken in conjunction, they are seen to enunciate, -in fact, quite a different principle, viz., that in regard to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">{233}</a></span> -Christ, indifferentism, neutrality, is impossible, and that -every man must be either for or against the Saviour. -"He that is not a friend is a foe," while "he that is -not a foe is a friend;" consequently there is no such -thing as a position of neither friendship nor enmity.</p> - -<p>Let us, then, run cursorily over the incidents that -gave rise to these two sayings, in order that we may -see what is the essential character of the two attitudes -of being for or against Christ, and so exhibit how -neutrality is impossible.</p> - -<p>One day a man possessed of a dumb devil was -brought to Jesus. By His word of power Jesus cast out -the evil spirit, and immediately the man regained the -power of speech. The crowd looking on were filled -with wonder and admiration. They were pleased at -the good deed which had been done. They partook in -the dumb man's joy and gratitude, and they regarded -the Saviour with increased reverence and esteem. The -influence of the miracle was to attach men to Himself, -and draw them towards the kingdom of God. But -among the spectators there were some who had no -pleasure in the act of healing at all. They were not -glad to see their fellow-man in new possession of -speech and soundness of mind. On the contrary, they -wished it had not been done, for they grudged the -credit it brought to the Saviour. His popularity was -gall to them. It pained them to see men revere or -trust Him. They did not wish that men should be -drawn to Him. Accordingly, they attempted to turn -the people's admiration into distrust by flinging out a -dark suggestion that it was by the aid, not of God, but -of the evil one, that the Lord had been able to work -the cure. The effect designed is manifest. Such a -suspicion would have the effect of turning men away -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">{234}</a></span> -from Christ, of preventing them from submitting to -His guidance. Their purpose was not to draw men -to Him, but rather to alienate from Him any who -were attracted. Thus they were in direct antagonism -to Christ's purpose and striving. They did not like -Himself, nor His teaching, nor His aims, so they set -themselves to oppose Him in every way. It was of -such men our Lord said, "He that is not with Me -is against Me; and he that gathereth not with Me -scattereth."</p> - -<p>Turning to the second story, we find that Christ's -disciples had come upon a man casting out devils in -the name of their Master. It is evident this man had -not been much in direct communication with Christ, -if at all, for apparently he was not known previously to -the disciples, and their grievance is that one who did -not with them follow Christ should thus employ the -Master's name. It cannot but have been, therefore, -that this man knew very little of Christ's Person or -teaching. His knowledge of Him must have been -very much more imperfect than that of the disciples, -and he did not deem it his duty to become an immediate -follower of the Lord. Nevertheless, he had made the -discovery that Christ's name had power to cast out -devils, and for this beneficent purpose he was in the -habit of using it. The disciples, perhaps jealous that -another, not of their number, should possess the same -power, and believing that he could not be one of the -Lord's privileged servants, forbade him to make any -further use of the Saviour's name. On reporting this -to the Master He countermanded their decision and -gave His grounds for so doing. They were these: -Though he did not attach himself to the personal -company of Christ, though he might be very ignorant, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">{235}</a></span> -etc. etc., nevertheless, by performing miracles of healing -through Christ's name, he was bringing new honour -and reverence to that name; and again, while he was -thus in deed spreading Christ's fame and arousing -belief in Him, he was not likely to imitate the Pharisees -in slandering the Saviour—for in our Lord's words, -"There is no man which shall do a miracle in My name -that shall be able easily to speak evil of Me." That -is to say, "By using My name to perform a miraculous -cure, he puts himself out of a position to say anything -that would detract from My credit." Such an one was -certainly not a scatterer, but a gatherer. And "he -that is thus not against us is on our part."</p> - -<p>Reverting now to the first narrative see how the -active antagonism of the Pharisees was the inevitable -outcome of the fact that inwardly they were not with -Him in heart and aim.</p> - -<p>Because they did not like Him, and did not desire -Him to gain influence with the people they would not -unite in the general approbation of the crowd. Such -conduct was marked and demanded an explanation. -Apparently a good and wonderful miracle had been -wrought. It will not do for them to merely refrain -from approving. They must justify their reticence. -Neutrality is impossible. If they will not adore they -must malign. So they are forced to impugn the -character of Christ's act. To justify their want of -sympathy they must disavow its claim to their approbation. -There is no alternative between frank acceptance -of the miracle or open repudiation and disparagement -of its character.</p> - -<p>Still you must take sides for or against Christ, and -you cannot be neutral. For His claims reach you not -as external facts to be passively gazed at, but as imperative, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">{236}</a></span> -active demands that lay hold of you, and insist -that you shall take action upon them. You must yield -or you must resist. You must comply or you must -oppose. Christ lays His hand on you and if you will -not obey you must shake that hand rudely off. In -countless forms that strange, drawing power lays hold -of you, and you must follow or reject. It may be a call -to you to yield your reverence, your support, your participation -to some benevolent or religious movement. -If you will not, while others do accede to this claim, -you must seek to justify your refusal. So you are -forced into disparaging it, depreciating it, slandering it. -You cannot own it to be of God and yet remain a -rebel against its demands. So you must, with evil, -malignant tongue, sneer at it as folly, or revile it as -delusion—thus imitating the Pharisees who set down -Christ's work to be the doing of the devil.</p> - -<p>Remember, too, what a black-hearted, hateful sin -that was they were guilty of. Try and picture that -gentle, beneficent, holy Jesus. Realise the cruel blow -such a thought was to the man just healed. Surely -caution, reserve, would have made men hesitate to speak -so. But they cruelly, malignantly, eagerly cry, "By -Beelzebub He casteth out devils." It was in the face -of such light, such considerate helpful words of Christ, -that they did it. Think of the gracious words He -spoke, and of the beauty of all that life, which in our -days bring from the hearts of unbelievers encomiums -that sound like adoration. In spite of all that, they -were not made reverent, careful, slow to condemn. -Nay, they were exasperated by it all.</p> - -<p>But you may say, "They were zealous, mistaken -men, wrongly trained; they thought Christ a heretic; -they were the victims of an erroneous creed. So many -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">{237}</a></span> -had deceived them, so many false Christs had appeared! -Besides, did not Moses say that they were not to -believe a miracle simply, but to judge it by the teaching -of the worker?" It is true, there were many such. -But you do not find them among the number who -ascribed Christ's works of healing to the devil. There -were, indeed, honest but timid souls who were staggered -by the pretensions and claims of Christ, but how did -they act? Remember how one such came to Christ -and went away with mingled feelings of attraction and -perplexity; but when the body of Christ lay lone and -forsaken Nicodemus came and did honour to the sacred -dead. But these men were not such as he; their error -was not of the intellect, but of the heart. They did -not yield to the beauty of Christ's character, life, and -teaching. They were not one with Him in His longing -to establish God's kingdom on the earth. There -was an inner antagonism of spirit, of nature. They -were proud, haughty, self-righteous, and they were -hypocrites, evildoers, cruel. They hated Christ because -His pure life shamed and pained them, and they -dreaded the loss of their own prestige and power. The -secret and the essence and seat of their antagonism was -not intellectual error, but deep, dark, moral perversion -and evil of heart and conscience. Thus, because they -were not with Christ, even in so far as to have sympathy -with the undeniable good in Him, therefore they -were in act and word against Him.</p> - -<p>Finally, from the second narrative see what it is to be -with Christ and how those who inwardly are not against -are by His own verdict on His side. And, first of all, -note the error into which the disciples fell. Very like -the conduct of the Pharisees is theirs. They find a -man doing good in Christ's name. He is not all he -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">{238}</a></span> -should be, not one of them, and not a constant pupil -of Christ's. But instead of seeking to draw him -to more perfect light, they intolerantly forbid him to -do the good he was doing. So mistaken an action -must have come from a wrongness of heart. They, -too, fell before that evil, monopolising tendency that -grudges to another God's gifts which we possess. It -was a cruel thing to the man, a harmful thing, and might -have turned him from Christ. Let us take the lesson -to ourselves. Let us beware of refusing to allow good -in those who differ from us; let us beware of rashly -judging those who are not just the same as we. Harm—grave -harm—is often done by treating imperfect, -immature followers of our Master as if they had neither -part nor lot with Him. But mark how this man was -with Christ; only, remember, he is not an example of -what we should be, rather he is a specimen of one just -over the borderland: but over. It was not intellectual -orthodoxy; not a perfect knowledge of God's mysteries -that he possessed. He was very ignorant about God, -about Christ. He did but know a little of the power -of Christ and His majestic character and stupendous -work. Yet so far as his knowledge went of Christ -he had received it gladly. He rejoiced in the power -of the Saviour's name to cast out devils, to cure the -troubled ones. He did the good he knew. He acted -up to his light. In his measure he gave glory and -reverence and obedience to the Saviour. He was -working for good and mercy and truth and God in -the world. Thus he was not against Christ in these -his aims, and so was for the Lord. It is only of those -who are not against Christ in <i>this</i> sense that He says -they are on His side.</p> - -<p>Friends, there is warning and comfort in that. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">{239}</a></span> -Warning there is, for, mark, that vain dream is dispelled -which would read Christ's words as meaning that -if only you do not oppose Him actively you are to be -counted on His side. No! if that is your position, -you are not for Him; you must be against Him: for -passivity, neutrality is impossible.</p> - -<p>Comfort there is, on the other hand, to you who feel -yourselves very feeble, very imperfect; to you who -find it hard to understand; to you who fear you are -mistaken about many things. Ah! men may condemn -you; the disciples may dissuade you from taking His -name and counting yourself His, but do not fear. If -you do, as far as you see how, strive to do the good -He has taught you; if you do, it may be afar off, follow -in His footsteps; if you have learned to find in Him -in any degree a power that helps you to cast out the -evil spirits in your soul and in the hearts of men: be -sure that though you may not follow with other disciples, -though you may be very deficient, very immature, -a very unworthy servant—be sure that, nevertheless, -you are not against, but for Him, and that in the end -of the days He will not forbid you to claim His name, -but will acknowledge you for His own.</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">{240}</a></div> - -<h2>XIII.<br /> -<i>THE PROPHECY OF NATURE.</i></h2> - -<p class="small">"When I consider Thy heavens, the work of Thy fingers, the moon -and the stars, which Thou hast ordained; what is man, that Thou art -mindful of him? and the son of man, that Thou visitest him? For Thou -hast made him a little lower than the angels, and hast crowned him -with glory and honour. Thou madest him to have dominion over the -works of Thy hands; Thou hast put all things under his feet."—<span class="smc">Psalm</span> -viii. 3-6.</p> - -<p class="small">"But now we see not yet all things put under Him."—<span class="smc">Heb.</span> ii. 8.</p> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE Eighth Psalm is a very striking one. It lifts -the mind of the reader to a lofty height where he -seems to have soared above sin and sorrow. It exults -in man's greatness and Nature's grandeur. It is not -Hebrew and theocratic, but human and universal. -What it says is said of man as man; of man as he -ought to be, was meant to be, may be. The subject is -Humanity.</p> - -<p>The New Testament writer of the Epistle to the -Hebrews takes what is said in this psalm to be true -of Christ, and he thinks that he has a right to find in -the words a prophecy of Christ's coming. If you read -the psalm without thinking of what is said in the -Epistle you would not immediately apply it to Christ. -How, then, is there a real connection between this old -Hebrew utterance and the coming of our Lord?</p> - -<p>It is a fact that the patriarchs expected the coming -of some great and wonderful blessing in the future, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">{241}</a></span> -and it is a fact that in the coming of Christ a gift came -to men in the lines of anticipated blessing; but far -greater than they ever dreamed of.</p> - -<p>Reflecting on those predictions and anticipations of -future blessing, might there not be in the very structure -of the world, of the material universe itself, in the -course of events as they have fallen out in history, -something to lead men to expect the advent of their -Christ? God makes His plans looking, as a wise man -looks, to the end. We should expect, then, in all the -foundation-laying, that that was provided for and -expected which should be the crown of all.</p> - -<p>Is there not in creation an aspect of things which -makes men think that there is something great and -grand in store for their race? The writer of this -psalm conceived his poem as he stood in the open -fields and looked up into the solemn sky, and watched -the unhasting and untiring motion of the shining stars—worlds -upon worlds burning and throbbing in the -abyss of space. Away from the hum and tumult of -men, no one can look at those hosts of silent stars -without a subdued and awed sense of the mystery of -being, of the infinite possibilities that the universe discloses. -The star-studded heaven at night makes a man -irresistibly think of God. It makes a man think, too, of -himself. The silence, the shining, the mystery and the -solemnity of the starry heavens make a man's beating, -living life, as it were, become heard. A man is intensely -conscious of himself. That is exactly what passed -through the heart of this writer. It was not he who -chose to have these thoughts, no more than it is our -wish to have these thoughts. God was playing upon -the strings of this man's heart—more directly, more -rigorously in him, but just as He plays upon the strings -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">{242}</a></span> -of your own when you have had great solemn thoughts -of God on a dark night, beneath the burning stars. -The man's thoughts went up, and then they went down -into himself, when he looked up into heaven, when he -saw the moon and the stars, when he realised all their -wondrous being, the regularity, the order, the vastness, -the distance; then he thought of God, and God became -great and grand and majestic, and then he burst out, "O -Lord, our Lord, how excellent is Thy name in all the -earth!" That is what he said. Then he looked into -himself, his own conscious life, met its failure, and his -first thought was of his own terrible pettiness. In the -face of these countless worlds revolving in the far heaven, -"what is man?" And then there came another thought -to him: "And yet how great is man!" That mighty -moon, millions of times vaster than man, does not know -its own shining, its lustre, its own motions, its majesty. -It is blind, and deaf, and dumb, and insensate, and man -sees it and wonders at it, measures and weighs it, and -understands its nature; and so man in all his meanness, -in all his smallness, in all his weakness, in all the -fragility of his life, is greater far than sun and moon -and stars, and all revolving worlds. How little is man—and -yet how great, O God! Here down below on -earth man watches the stars, and up in heaven God -watches them too. Man thinks, God thinks; man -creates, God creates; man loves, God loves; so little, -so great, and yet so like; Father and child, the One so -grand, the other so insignificant.</p> - -<p>Then he turned to the earth on which he stood, and -with a grandeur of soul he recognised man's position -on earth sharing the likeness of God, gifted with God's -power of thought and of plan, of will and of love; man -stands lord of all lower things that have been made, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">{243}</a></span> -king and ruler with power to control, with mastery to -move them, he is lord and master over all their ways, -uncontrolled by aught, undismayed by aught, king, god -of earth: "Thou hast made him ruler over all the -works of Thy hands."</p> - -<p>Is it not a grand poem, that? If I could read to -you the best poems written in other lands by men of -other days, by men of other faiths, if I could compare -the thoughts of this psalm with other thoughts of God's -plan and of man's position, you would understand what -I mean when I say the psalm is grand, the psalm is a -revelation of man and of God.</p> - -<p>If I had the capacity or the time to try and show -you how these thoughts about God and about Nature -and about man, give man all the dignity, all the elevation -of character, all the powers and abilities to shape -and fashion the world he is in, one could not but -wonder at the grandeur of that psalm. The faith about -God, and the faith about man's destiny written down in -that psalm—that faith is the Magna Charta of humanity -that has emancipated men from the slavery to sun, -moon and stars, and all the powers of Nature.</p> - -<p>The psalm is a true conception of man's relation—upwards -to God, and downwards to Nature. It has -been perfectly described by a German commentator as -a poetical echo of creation! A psalm, a poem, such as -this flings a spell about you. You forget actualities. -It is so good, it seems so true, it is so human, it is so -living, you yield your soul to it, you are filled with its -glow and joyfulness, you are warmed with its strength -and triumph. You hail it;—and then you begin to -think, you look round, and what do you see? Mankind -lord over lower things, yourself lord over your -own body, master of your appetites? Your neighbours -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">{244}</a></span> -kings? The best of men enslaved! Bound down by -the greed of gain! So that the nobler powers of mind -and body, and soul, are degraded and cramped in -them—men and women slaves of superstition, slaves -of prodigies and foolish fancies wrought into their very -nature.</p> - -<p>"We see not yet all things put under him." If exultation -was the mood made by the picture of the psalm, -depression is the mood made by the picture of mankind; -and are we to end with that? No. The writer to the -Hebrews has given us the key by which we can unlock -the secret, and have confidence in the triumph of man's -better nature, and hope for a better future.</p> - -<p>Let us look a little deeper into things, let us do men -justice. Has man ever acquiesced in his sinful, sorrowful -slavery? Never. It is always under protest that -he regards it. It is always with a sense of fallen greatness. -It is always with discontent. It is always with -an unconquerable conviction that man was made for -something better. Proof, do you want? Why is it -when you read a story of heroic generosity, like that of -the captain who gave away his own life for that of a -wretched boy the other day, that you feel life to be -worth living? What is the meaning of that sense of -grandeur, of greatness, of triumph, that comes over -you? How is it? What is it? When you see a -brave deed of self-denial; at another time, when we -hear of a cruel, mean deed done—how do we feel towards -each? Are we all bad? If that were our natural lot -we should acquiesce in the evil deed, we should have -no shock, no surprise; instead of that there is a sense -of surprise, and revolt. There is an error somewhere—a -disaster, a calamity. It is a sin—sin—a thing that -robs us of our heavenly nature. Do we recognise it as -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">{245}</a></span> -a part of human nature? No. Sin is unnatural, sin is -horrible. That is the meaning of the death scene in -Macbeth. A knock at the door reveals to the murderer -the distance his crime has set between him and the -simple ordinary life of man. Sin is something unnatural, -it is a calamity, an intrusion, it ought not to -be there. Fellowship with God! Impossible to us! -Why? Because we were never meant to have it? -No. If there be a God at all, if He made this world, -if He made men to think, and feel and understand, then -God meant the world to be like a written book that -should speak of Him. Why does not all Nature so -speak to man? Because we have sinned, because we -have lost the lineage, because we are not like Christ, -the sinless Son: to Him the lilies had the touch of -God on them, the birds in every song proclaimed His -praise.</p> - -<p>So, then, while we see that all things are not put -under man, we see plainly that God meant it otherwise, -and that God made man to be lord of creation. -What God does not wish is hardly likely to stand. If -man has missed being what he was meant for, there -is good possibility that he may regain it. If God -be love, there is certainty. I enter a master-painter's -studio, and I see upon his easel a spoiled picture. I can -see the majesty of the design, the beauty of the ideal, -but from some defect in the pigment or flaw in the -canvas, it has gone wrong; it is blurred and dim and -spoiled. But not so to himself; that man will not -allow the disaster to prevent him creating in visible -form the vision of beauty that once charmed his -heart. The man would not be a man of will and -determination if he allowed the disaster to hinder him -in his purpose. God is unchangeable. God is God.</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">{246}</a></div> - -<p>Man is not what God made him for; man is not -what God made him to be; and God is God. His -purpose may lapse for a little, His designs may be -delayed on the way, but if the beginning points to -the grand end, that end will be reached. God meant -it. God means it. God shall do it.</p> - -<p>We stand farther on along the track of God's providential -dealings with men. We see more than the -writer to the Hebrews saw. He, too, remembered that -psalm when he described man as he ought to be. -Why did he still let it live and exist as a thing that -is true? He could wait. What was he waiting for? -And what were the singers thinking of as they chanted -that psalm? They thought of a good time coming, -they thought not the less of the disaster, they thought -of God redeeming men, of God causing a Man to be -born who should be a Deliverer, they thought of Him -reaching out hands of help to all who came to Him, -and the writer to the Hebrews writes truly when he -says that that is prophesied of Christ. It is a prediction -of His coming. God cannot be foiled. Man is -not yet what God created him to be, the crown of all -the earth-creation, but in the divine heart and mind -there has been that vision—man wanting but little of -exaltation to be next to God—man the lord of all—and -the writer to the Hebrews was able to say, "God has -achieved it; in Christ, crowned King and Lord of all -creation, the psalm is fulfilled."</p> - -<p>What depth of meaning and of wonder, of future -joy and triumph, there is in that feeling he has of -Christ as the Flower and Fruit of God's design in all -creation! What depth of meaning there may be I do -not dare to fathom, of good to all mankind; but this -I will think,—that in the end of time when all things -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">{247}</a></span> -have been summed up and restored in Jesus Christ, -when God shall have gathered together in one the broken -threads, when the whole creation that with man groaneth -until now, shall be delivered from its bondage—God will -be seen not to have failed. What future revelation of -grandeur, and of Divine goodness, and of redemption -beyond our utmost thoughts, there may be, I do not think -we were meant to know. I do not think we should dare -to dogmatise; but we were meant to have our eyes -drawn away to that glorious, radiant, splendrous future, -and we are bidden there to see all God's loving pity and -wise provision for us. Ah! God is working; He is -creating, loving; He is providing, planning; He is redeeming -creation, gathering together into one grand -whole a restored humanity and a ransomed creation; -and all mysteriously and strangely wrought into a great -unity with Christ, and through Christ, with God.</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">{248}</a></div> - -<h2>XIV.<br /> -<i>CHRISTIAN GIVING.</i></h2> - -<p class="center small"><span class="smc">Preached in Willesden Presbyterian Church,<br /> -September 24th, 1882.</span></p> - -<p class="small">"O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? The -sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks -be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. -Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye steadfast, unmovable, always -abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your -labour is not in vain in the Lord."—<span class="smc">1 Cor.</span> xv. 55-8.</p> - -<p class="small">"Now concerning the collection for the saints, as I have given order -to the churches of Galatia, even so do ye. Upon the first day of the -week let every one of you lay by him in store, as God hath prospered -him, that there be no gatherings when I come. And when I come, -whomsoever ye shall approve by your letters, them will I send to -bring your liberality unto Jerusalem."—<span class="smc">1 Cor.</span> xvi. 1-3.</p> - -<p class="drop-cap">I HAVE read this passage for one single purpose; -it is to draw your attention to the singular way -in which St. Paul passes from the doctrine of the -Resurrection to the practical duty of Christian giving. -It almost startles us, who have not quite St. Paul's way -of thinking about collections, to hear him pass from that -triumphant apostrophe of death, "O death, where is thy -sting?" to "Now concerning the collection."</p> - -<p>This seeming incongruity in the Epistle, and in the -Church's work, is not confined to the Bible or to the -Church; it runs all through life. Man has a poor, -fleshly body, needing food, and drink, and sleep, and -nursing; and he has an immortal soul. Say what you -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">{249}</a></span> -will, we cannot deny that the body is there; and I do -not think we shall ever come to deny that the soul is -there too, and will live, so long as goodness, tenderness, -and devotion, and truth, and being last. Life has got -into it; and the material framework which carries that -soul-man's life corresponds to himself. In our homes, -in our national life, in our business life there is the -strangest intermingling of tragedy and comedy, of what -is reverent and sacred, and what is most secular, and -common, and mean. You cannot divorce the two. -You may dislike the commonplace, and the mean, and -the material; but if you hope to preserve the region -of the spiritual and the sympathy of the good, that -you can only do by preserving the body; they are -gone when you forget the body.</p> - -<p>What is it that is the brightest, heavenliest thing in -the whole earth? It is love. No amount of mere -common propriety, in the humblest action, will make -up for the absence of that which comes out in a sudden -tear or looks out in a sweet smile. We all know it, -however earthly and material we are. But what I have -to say is this: Look at that sacred thing, that love, which -is almost too refined to put its hands on the soiling -things of earth; what do you find it doing? Nursing -at the sick bed, doing tasks that are repulsive, planning, -with all kinds of material medicaments, and helps, -and reliefs, to ease bodily pain. Now, it is easily possible -for a coarse heart and poor bodily eyes to be -in the midst of all that is sacred, and secular too, and -to call it all common, and poor, and mean. It needs a -quick, warm heart, and it needs almost, I may say, some -imagination, some touch of a fine fancy, something of -that Divine power which comes of tender affection and -love, to do such acts for God.</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">{250}</a></div> - -<p>In the life of Christ's spiritual family, which we call -"the Church" (and by calling it "the Church" so often -put it clean away out of all control of common sense and -of affection), the very same law holds. The Church -is worth nothing if it is not lit up and warmed with -heavenly devotion to Jesus Christ. It may look solemn -at the Communion-table; but it is not worth having -if it does not reach men's hearts with fingers which -squeeze out their hardness, and make them penitent -for their sins; it is not worth having if it has not God, -and Christ, and the life of the soul all throbbing through -it. And yet it has a body, and material buildings, and -expenses to maintain its earthly fabric and framework; -and the spiritual life and the spiritual love that will have -nought to do with these "cares of all the Churches," -which Paul, the greatest preacher and Apostle, carried, -or with collections and planning for the maintenance of -preachers, thereby destroy themselves. If we try to -put away that, and say, "It is not spiritual," or "It -is a low thing," we are simply committing suicide of -the religious life. It cannot live without that. Christ -Himself had to plan how His preachers were to be -maintained; and He spoke a great word when He said -that they were to go and live on those who could not -preach; not taking it as charity—never!—but taking it -as a helpful service, which, combined with their searching -of the Divine Word, should make it triumph in the -world. "He that receiveth" into his house—maintaining -him, that he may preach—"a preacher" (that -is the meaning of "a prophet"), "in the name of a -preacher"—not because he brings honour to the house, -and because he is a great man, but because he is a man -who is converting souls, a man that takes God at His -word, and prays, and preaches unto men—will have -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">{251}</a></span> -the same "reward" in heaven, Christ providing for -the spiritual wants and for the bodily wants of the -preacher, and for his maintenance. And so, if once -we lived in good earnest into that real, loving, great, -broad thought of the actual life of Christ, we should -not feel any surprise when we read how St. Paul passes -from the great triumph of the doctrine of the Resurrection -to the enforcement of Christian liberality.</p> - -<p>Now I am going to spend the time at my disposal -this morning in a very practical way. I hardly think -that it needed that introduction to justify this use of -the time at a Sunday morning's service; still, possibly, -what has been said may be of use, not so much as a -justification, but just as a preparation. I think that -these things are for you. The subject is not a mere -question of Church business; it is not a mere question, -either, of interest to the men whose minds have a little -of the statesman in them, and who consider the problems -of Church government and Church management, -as well as of national government and management; -but I will say that it is a subject which ought to have -a thorough interest to every one of you. I have been -led to take it as my subject this morning because I was -sent, a fortnight ago, by our Synod, as a deputy to one -of our largest Presbyteries in the North, in order that -I might interest congregations there in our Church's -financial system of maintaining the preaching of the -Gospel throughout this country; and I had the feeling, -when I was doing it, and I had the assurance from -those whom I visited, that it did them good. I have -thought, therefore, that it might do my people good. -Moreover, I had this feeling about the very strong and -plain things that I said to them, that I should hardly -be an honest man if I did not care openly to say the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">{252}</a></span> -same things to my own people. Nay, I was led in -some things to speak of my congregation, and what -they had done not only for their minister, but for all -the schemes of the Church, as an example; and therefore -I feel my honour somewhat pledged that our congregation -should not only do well, as it has done, but -should do better. I say these things that I may have -your sympathy in what I am going on to explain and -to say to you.</p> - -<p>The special subject, in our Church's government and -economy, of which I want to make you understand a -little is what is called the "Sustentation Fund." I -wish to be short and to be simple. Let me begin in -this fashion: We believe that wherever there are -Christian congregations who have the love of their -Master in them, and some spiritual life, all these are -blessed spots and centres, wherever they stand. We -know how sorrows are soothed away by that Christian -brotherhood and friendship, by those common prayers -and praises, and by those words of truth which are -read out of the Bible and often spoken by preachers. -We believe that, or we do not believe in Christ at all. -That is how Christ comes to men and women, and -boys and girls, and little children, on earth. Oh, He -does nothing for them like that! Well, now, it is a -very practical question, that comes to all Christian -men and women who are gathered together into any -section of Christ's Church, how they can make their -ministers, and their managers, and their elders, and -their deacons, and their office-bearers (by whatever -name you call them), and all their members, most useful -and effective for good. It is the first question that -their Master puts to them. He says, "Do your best." -It is the duty of every Church in England just now to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">{253}</a></span> -do everything in its power, by business methods as -well as by spiritual methods, to make every congregation -have a happy, harmonious, earnest, liberal, joyful, -successful Christian life.</p> - -<p>Now I will say this: It seems to me that the good -which will be done by any denomination in England -just now depends, of course first of all on its possession -of the living Spirit and heart of Jesus Christ in its -members; but that is not my subject to-day; I am -talking of the material side, the body surrounding the -soul; I say, the good which will be done by any Church -in England will depend upon three things: first of all, -that it shall have devised a government which will -exercise power—superior control—over individual members, -office-bearers, ministers, congregations; which will -preserve a harmonious, law-abiding, just, and generous -spirit and conduct between them all; not leaving it -to two individuals in the Church, or some individual -member, to fight the thing out, if a disagreement -arises, without asking, before an impartial tribunal, -which party is right, and each of them being willing -to take the right. I say that a government which, -without the evils of undue centralization, without -crushing individual freedom, and liberty, and enterprise, -will combine all congregations into one strong, -united body, powerful to do Foreign Mission work and -Home Mission work, cemented together so that the -strong carry the weak when they are overtaken by -sickness or disaster—and the strong get the blessing -when doing work like that—a government the likest to -that is a government which will make the most useful -and the most spiritual and successful Church in our -England. I say that I have watched the progress -of things in these times of profound interest, and it -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">{254}</a></span> -seems to me that men are looking at one another in -the Churches for what is good and desirable. That I -believe to be our attitude in watching other Churches, -and to be the attitude of other Churches in watching -us. I look forward to a powerful, happy future in -consequence.</p> - -<p>The second thing which seems to me to be a great -spring of a Church's usefulness in this modern England -is the earnestness and success with which it devises -methods of instructing its young people; not merely -winning their affections for Christ, but giving them a -reason for the faith that is in them; not merely teaching -them that there is a Saviour to protect them at the -Judgment, but giving them the life and thoughts of -Christ, and that knowledge which shall cause them to -grow into the perfect manhood of Christ. I say, the -Church that most successfully and thoroughly, from -the children in the Sunday-school and in the Bible-classes -to those under higher systems of instruction, -carries forward a knowledge of the Bible, and of God's -ways with man, and of human nature in its religious -aspects, to its young people, will be the greatest blessing -in England; and once again I see that all the -Churches are awake to it.</p> - -<p>And the third thing is this (not by any means that -there are not other things, which are perhaps just as important, -but these three stand out prominent on account -of the state of men's minds in England just now): the -Church that can devise a method which will fill its pulpits -with men who are not merely earnest converted men, -loyal to Jesus Christ, but men abreast of the intelligence -and thought of the times, men who have a calm reliance -in their own faith by having looked all difficulties in -the face, men who have something of the self-control -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">{255}</a></span> -and the large thoughts that come with culture; men -who will be, not despised, but respected by the people -that come to listen to them, and with whom they come -in contact in the sorrows and trials of life—the Church -that can best fill its pulpits with such preachers, and -put such pastors into its congregations, will do the -best work in England. And, mark you, it is not merely -a question of denominational success; God forbid that -I should care for that; but that Church is best fulfilling -its Master's command, best doing its Master's work, -most contributing to the realisation of that time when -Christ shall be King of men.</p> - -<p>I now come to the particular part of our Church's -method of government and order which I have chosen -for explanation to you to-day. We aim at having all -our ministers men who, with great differences of -original natural ability, have at least had all the -thorough discipline and culture that training can give -them. Our ministers have all passed through a high -school course, a University course, and a course of -study at a theological hall. Now, all that means a -period of education of something like at least twelve -years. We aim at having men who have ability, men -who will be able to bear themselves, in all the relations -of life, with dignity. We aim at having men worthy -to speak in Christ's name. It is a worthy aim. Well, -now, how are you to have such men? By praying for -them; by planning thoroughly disciplined study for -them; by seeking them out in families, and persuading -and inducing them to give themselves to the work of -preaching Christ's Gospel, and keeping alive spiritual -love and truth in people's hearts. It is a worthy -object. But I will be very plain: the Church's hands -are largely tied by a very mean, material fact; it is the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">{256}</a></span> -question of the salary which is attached to that office. -If it be a wretched pittance, then it is a simple matter -of fact that you will not get men who are capable of -taking a position in the Christian world with dignity -and efficiency to devote themselves to the work of -preachers. Why should they? You say, "Why -should a mercenary motive act?" Very good; why -should it? But it does. But why should it not? -Sometimes it is said, "You must not make the ministry -a bribe by the largeness of its emoluments." Does it -cease to be a bribe when its emoluments are a pittance? -You only lower the level of temptation to an inferior -grade of men, as well as where nothing is paid at all. -God meant that men should be tempted, and you -cannot get rid of it; they must battle with it and withstand -it. But how does the thing work? I do not -think that many men of much ability will be tempted, -at least till the Millennium comes, by the emoluments -of preaching, however good they come to be. I, for my -part, should regret if it ever became a temptation to -the highest ability—a money temptation, I mean. But -what I have to say is this: I am talking of a thoroughly -adequate maintenance—not of <i>payment</i>. The kind of -service that is done by a man who saves a human -being from sin and hell is a service which cannot be -<i>paid</i>. That man can only be maintained to do that -work; there is no money equivalent to such a service. -Partly the same thing is true of a medical man's service; -he saves a life. Why, if you paid him the commercial -value of his service you must give him your fortune; -he saves your <i>life</i>. There are some things which -cannot be paid for. You cannot pay for the love of -wife and children. The sweetest things cannot be paid -for; you can only show your appreciation of them by -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">{257}</a></span> -a worthy maintenance; it would be a pity to talk of -paying for them.</p> - -<p>Now, suppose that the maintenance awarded to -ministers, to preachers, be so small that they cannot -live and bring up their children as men of such culture -and such ability are made by God to require that they -should be able to do; what is the effect of it? You -often break that man's heart; you embitter it; he -would be more than human if you did not. To go -about begging for wife and child! That is the result; -and it is not the result of mere disaster, but of stinginess -and meanness in Christian England. I will tell -you how it works. Where shall we get young men -with brains, with talent, with ability, that they may -give themselves to a life which is not thought to be -worth a decent maintenance by Christian people? Look -at it. Here is a young man, a member of some -country Church; God has moved his heart, and made -him wish to do all the good he can in the world. He -has a feeling that he could do more if he were a -minister. He would like to be one. He knows himself -to possess powers to rise in the world and take a -position of eminence, a position of dignity, and to do -good in that fashion. Here is this youth with a warm -heart, who wishes to be a minister. But I will suppose -that the minister of his congregation has had some -wretched pittance to live on, has been worn out with -the cares of just making ends meet, has often been -behindhand, has been talked of as such, and more -than talked of, even by kind-hearted Christian men and -women, with something of pity, and something of concern; -and this youth says to himself, "That is the life -of a preacher." He would be more than human if he -thought it right and wise to choose it. And what of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">{258}</a></span> -his father and mother—will they encourage him to do -so? They would not be parents if they did. They -will tell him, "Do not you suppose that there is -anything so excellent, or dignified, or worthy, in a -minister's work." Ah, you may say that it is a -mercenary thing! True; but where does the mercenariness -begin? who brings it in? After all, men will -go by reason, and they will estimate what are the worth -and dignity of the career of a preacher of the Gospel -by what Christian men and women set them down at -in pounds, shillings, and pence. That is reason.</p> - -<p>I have said these things strongly; I have said them -very strongly here, because, though I dislike to speak -of things concerning ourselves, I am bound to say -frankly that you to your minister have always acted -with rare liberality and generosity, beyond what sometimes -I have thought was proportionate. You will -perfectly understand, then, that in what I speak it is -not to reproach you; far from it; it is to interest you, -and make you feel the importance of this question.</p> - -<p>Since I came to be myself a teacher of theological -students, and to take a pride in my students, and to -seek that they should be able ministers, I have come to -feel how my hands are hampered and crippled, and -that the best men are kept out by such poor, mean -drawbacks as these. You will understand me.</p> - -<p>I now come to explain more fully the working of the -particular method adopted by our Church to maintain -an honourable, able, dignified Christian ministry: We -call it the "Sustentation Fund." The immediate aim -is this, to gather together the strength and liberality -of rich congregations, and distribute them in districts -where they are poorer. In that way the poorer congregations -are able to give a more handsome maintenance -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">{259}</a></span> -to their ministers. In that way, instead of the -Church having men of parts, and culture, and dignity in -the wealthier charges only, it has men of at least fair -eminence, and dignity, and ability in all its branches; -and that is an immense advantage. If it is a bane -to society to have too great extremes of wealth and -poverty, it is the same with the Church. If any Church -is bound to avoid it, it is <i>our</i> Church; for one of the -central principles of our Church is that its ministers -and office-bearers should all sit as equals in a deliberative -assembly, and that none should be able to make -their will press upon others. If you have one set of -ministers begging for doles from other and richer -ministers, what have you? You have destroyed the -Church as a brotherhood, as a family. Now I have -given you in that a reason why we endeavour to -distribute the generous strength of the richer among -the poorer congregations by the Sustentation Fund. -Another method would be by an Augmentation Fund, -by which wealthier congregations would dole out money -to poorer congregations. That is not our system; our -system is this: Every congregation is asked to give, -"as God has prospered them," to a fund which we -prefer to call by our old Scotch term, a "Sustentation" -Fund; they have to give all that it is in their hearts -to give to that fund, and they send it up to a central -committee, charged with the duty of distributing it. -The whole amount is divided by the number of the -ministers, and an equal share is sent to each. Note -how that works. It does not preclude the wealthier -congregations from adding a supplement, as it is -called—adding as much as they like to the income -of their own minister. It would be unreasonable that -a man should not give more to the minister to whose -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">{260}</a></span> -ministrations he has attached himself, and who has -drawn out his sympathies; and therefore no such -liberality is asked to this fund, which goes among all -the ministers.</p> - -<p>Again, the weaker congregations are urged to contribute -a sum which is equal to their common share; -but if they come short the deficiency is made up by the -surplus from the other Churches. For instance, suppose -the distributed sum is £200, and one congregation -sends £230. Of that sum £200 comes back, £30 -remains, and goes probably to some congregation in -Northumberland who have only sent up £170.</p> - -<p>Now, I have no time to go into details, or to talk about -objections, technical objections, and so on; but just let -me show you very briefly some of the advantages of -this way of working. I have spoken about the sentiment -of the thing. Ministers, like men, have feelings. -The poorer ministers prefer to get their larger stipend -in that fashion, rather than getting the money as a -dole. That point has to be considered; and when you -remember how great a part feeling plays in all our life -you will not disregard such a thing, even if it is only -sentiment. But look at the thing practically. It may -be said, "What is the use of sending up the whole -amount? What good is there in a congregation sending -up £230, and getting £200 back? What good is -there in a congregation sending up £170, and getting -£200 instead? Cannot you just as well send the -£30?" If you did that it would become a Dole Fund; -it would not be a Sustentation Fund. Then is it a -mere difference of arrangement or sentiment? Not a -bit of it. I will show you how the thing works practically. -It is one of those secondary sorts of advantage -which generally go, more than anything else, to prove -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">{261}</a></span> -a principal good. I suppose that, if you have ever -thought of it, you are not surprised to find that Church -business is constantly done in a most slovenly way. -I suppose you are aware that even down in the City -there are many offices where things are done in a -slovenly, hap-hazard fashion. If that is so in business, -and parish matters too, it is worse in Church matters; -for even Church people seem to think that Church -business need not be done with the same method and -regularity as that with which secular matters should be -done. Now, that is especially the case in country congregations, -and the bearing of it upon finances is that -moneys are not collected as they should be; they are -not asked for, and are lying out when they ought to -come in. A man who can give a shilling a month -cannot get up twelve shillings at the end of the twelve -months. All of you who are business men know what -an immense advantage it is to business to have the -whole of the book-keeping, and everything, done in an -efficient manner. I saw, in this visitation of mine, -congregations that had not connected themselves with -this Sustentation Fund whose business affairs were in -a shameful condition. It meant that the minister did -not get his salary; it did not come in at the time; not -that the money would not be given the moment it was -applied for, but the treasurer was careless about it, and -never thought of it. You can see the foolishness of -such a position, and what a bad thing it is for the -Church. What do they care about giving, when the -thing is done in that careless fashion? Now, the -Sustentation Fund means that the whole money collected -for the minister's maintenance goes up to London; and -the country people down in Northumberland try not to -disgrace themselves in the eyes of the central officers in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">{262}</a></span> -London, and the central officers in London have no -hesitation in giving them a reminder. The advantage -is the same as it is to a business house every year to -have all its books and business pass through the hands -of an accountant. It makes a man careful; things do -not fall behind. This mode of working brings regularity -and punctuality, not merely into the Sustentation -Fund, but into the whole of the funds of all -our charges. Well, but you may say, "What is the -use of aid-giving congregations sending up their -£200?" They do it, who do not need it, to get the -others, who do need it, to do it too.</p> - -<p>I have shown you what a very practical thing the -Sustentation Fund is. I am now going to mention an -advantage which requires little more of Church statesmanship -to appreciate it. It is not the minister, but the -congregation, who gets the greatest benefit; I will tell -you how. Ministers do not like to go to congregations -where they are kept in arrears, and where they do not -get that proper maintenance which they should, just -through carelessness, or where they have to ask the -treasurer for money. To revert to the commercial -illustration, you would not go as partner into a firm -where all the books were carelessly kept, and everything -was in a slovenly, negligent condition. And -the congregation that has its whole business arrangements -and financial affairs completely regular and -punctual stands in a much better position when it has -to seek a minister than one that has not; it will get a -better man. That is a very real consideration.</p> - -<p>Once more, the system of the Sustentation Fund acts -in such a fashion that does not allow congregations to -impose on it. The Committee of the Sustentation -Fund say this: "We fix with the poorer congregation -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">{263}</a></span> -how much of the money it shall send up, and we -undertake that it shall share with the richer congregations -so long as it does its duty." If they find that it -is imposing on them, then they act very sharply; but -if there is some local disaster, the loss of a wealthy -member, or some sweeping misfortune, the Sustentation -Fund will do what a family does for a sick child; -it will nurse the sick child till it is strong again, and -will not let it die out.</p> - -<p>Once again, look how this system improves the -position of the congregation (to use a commercial -phrase) in the ministerial market. See what the Sustentation -Fund amounts to. You know how the credit -of a weak State is improved when a powerful State -backs it up; it can borrow at a lower rate of interest. -Any man, or any firm, whose business is punctually -done, and whose books are properly kept, can get -money from a banker much more readily than one who -has the reputation of being slovenly. And the system -of the Sustentation Fund improves the character of a -congregation; it gives the shield of the whole Church -to an individual congregation; it says that disaster -shall not depress it; it carries such a congregation -through a time of difficulty. A minister has more heart -to go to a weak charge, to a congregation exposed to -such disasters, when that congregation has its credit -backed by the general credit of the whole Church. -That is a businesslike and statesmanlike consideration, -and it is a very real one.</p> - -<p>There are a great many other things which I could -tell you. Let me mention one fact to show what our -Sustentation Fund has already done. It has always -been weak hitherto, and there has been a great deal -of opposition to it, and there have been a great -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">{264}</a></span> -many difficulties in introducing it. It has not been -able to do what it would do if it were strong; but I -will tell you what it has done already. In Northumberland, -where our Churches get the best members and -Church officers—young men brought up properly—young -women brought up with prayers morning and -evening—Churches with full light in them, but very -poor—in these Northumberland Churches the annual -ministerial stipend has in many cases been nearly -doubled. Of course you may say that many ministers -are not worth even £200 a year. That is true; but -if they are not worth £200 a year they are not worth -anything; it is better to have them out. It is not a -question of degree or amount, but the question is, Is -the man doing a minister's work in an honest way? -If he is, it is not fair that he should have to struggle -on upon such a pittance as many of the ministers have -been receiving. Well, now, I will tell you what the -Sustentation Fund has done. With the exception of -two or three charges that have to be nursed by the -Home Mission Fund, and put, as it were, on the child -platform, this Sustentation Fund has given to every one -of our ministers an annual income of £200; and what -has it proved? That our giving it has brought before -the congregations the duty of supporting their ministers -as has never been done before. It has taught them -to be more liberal in maintaining their ministers; it -has induced them in that way to be more generous and -liberal themselves.</p> - -<p>Now I have left myself no time for some more -spiritual thoughts with which I wanted to end. I do -not think that it much matters, if you remember how -the spiritual lives on the practical material working -of Church organisation; but I just want to say this -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">{265}</a></span> -(I wish I could feel it for myself, and I do wish that -our members could feel it), that there is a great risk -of well-to-do congregations unconsciously growing very -selfish, and being shut up in themselves. That position -brings a curse with it if it brings a blight in the heart, -and if we come to Christ just to get our souls saved, -and then selfishly congratulate ourselves upon that. -Christ wants a great, loving heart, panting to do good -to every one, and to save him from sin. He says, "Do -not be satisfied with just coming to say your own -prayers, and sing your praises, and get your sorrows -comforted, and have your joys brightened, by belonging -to a congregation; but think of all the great Church -everywhere, and whether you might not do something -for it." I think that God gathers us into congregations -just for the same reason that He gathers us into families. -Our love is too weak to be left spread out—it would -die altogether; it would be chill and cold as the world—and -so he shuts it in, and bids a man love wife and -child with family affection; and so he nurses that love, -and makes it profound. What is it that causes the love -of father and mother to be so strong and tender? Is -it not that there are such endless demands upon them -for giving their money, and time, and prayers? It is -God's greatest gift. But sometimes I see men and -women misuse it, and make gigantic walls, and turn -them into prison walls, and they do not care for any -human being outside their little circle. It becomes a -blight and a curse to them. Our Church is strong now -in England under the Presbyterian system, while others -are isolated. There is a real danger that our hearts -will be dried up and narrowed; and I put it to you -that here is one means of counteracting it, by giving -with a warm heart, thinking of the manses away in the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">{266}</a></span> -North, and the ministers' homes, that will be made -happier and better by the liberality of those whom God -has prospered. The Church that shows most liberality -and loyalty to others is the Church that will have most -love and loyalty to the Master.</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">{267}</a></div> - -<h2>XV.<br /> -<i>OUR LORD'S TREATMENT OF ERRING FRIENDS.</i></h2> - -<p class="center"><span class="smc">Sunday Readings.</span></p> - -<h3>I.</h3> - -<p class="center small">Read Ps. cxxxviii., and John xiii. 1-17.<br /> -<span class="smc">The Self-asserting.</span>—John xiii. 4, 5.</p> - -<p class="drop-cap">ON the evening before He died, Jesus washed the -disciples' feet. This touching action of our Lord -is constantly taken and turned into a picture of spiritual -truths, and it is a very fair use to make of the story. -No wonder if there is ever an overflowing surplus of -meaning in all the things that Jesus said and did. But -we must not forget that their symbolic use is a matter -of secondary moment, and we must take care, first and -chiefly, to recognise in our Lord's words and deeds that -simple, direct meaning which He intended them to have. -In the present case He has Himself told us why He -did this strange and beautiful act of self-abasement to -His faulty followers, and what effect the memory of His -great humility ought to have on our hearts and characters, -if we would be like Him, divinely wise and good -in our treatment of erring friends.</p> - -<p>In the country where Jesus lived the roads were hot -and dusty, and the people wore sandals that left the -upper part of the foot exposed. In the course of even -a short journey the skin became covered with an -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">{268}</a></span> -irritating kind of sand. Therefore, on the arrival of a -visitor, it was the first duty of hospitality to offer water -to wash and cool the weary feet. When a feast was -made the guests, as they entered, would lay aside their -sandals, and take their places on the couches that surrounded -the table. Then the humblest servant of the -house was wont to come with basin, towel, and pitcher -of water, to kneel behind each couch, to pour the water -over the projecting feet, to wash them clean and free -from stain, and to wipe them gently dry. It was a -comfortable and kindly custom, and we know, from the -anecdote of Simon the Pharisee, that our Lord missed -it when it was omitted, and gratefully welcomed it -when it was observed.</p> - -<p>This night Jesus and His disciples are gathered for -supper in the upper room of a strange house in Jerusalem. -The room has been lent for the occasion, and -so there is no servant in attendance on them. In such -circumstances it had been customary among the little -company for one of their number, ere the meal began, -to do this needful service for the rest. In a corner of -the room stood the pitcher and basin, with the towel -folded by their side. They had all taken their places -round the table, and the time to commence supper had -come (so read verse 2). But this night—the last of -their Master's life on earth—none rose to wash their -feet, none stirred to perform that friendly office. One -and all, they kept their places in painful and embarrassed -silence. Their refusal of the lowly but accustomed -task was due to an unwonted access of pride -and self-assertion in their hearts. That very day, in -the way, there had been a fierce contention among the -disciples as to which of them was greatest. The dispute -reached the Master's ear, and he firmly rebuked -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">{269}</a></span> -their rivalry and quelled the quarrel. The storm of -passion was silenced on their lips, but the sullen surge -of anger had not quite died out of their hearts. Not -yet would it be easy for any one of them to forget his -dignity, and do a humbling service to the rest. And -so it came to pass on that solemn evening, when their -Master's heart was so soft and tender, their hearts were -hard with pride and anger, and though they felt the -painfulness of the pause and the wrongfulness of their -obstinacy, not one of them had the manliness to rise -and end it, and by humbling himself make peace and -harmony in their hearts.</p> - -<p>The consciousness of discord entered the holy heart -of Jesus and pierced it. His soul was filled that night -with love unspeakable, and He longed to pour out to -His friends the joy and the pain of His mighty purpose. -But that could not be while their breasts were possessed -by petty rivalries, and mean thoughts, and angry -feelings. He must first shame away their pride, and -melt their hardness, and make them gentle, lowly, and -loving. How can He do this most quickly and completely? -"He riseth from supper, and laid aside His -garments; and took a towel, and girded Himself. After -that He poureth water into a basin, and began to wash -the disciples' feet, and to wipe them with the towel -wherewith He was girded." Who is not able to picture -the scene—the faces of John, and James, and Peter; -the intense silence, in which each movement of Jesus was -painfully audible; the furtive watching of Him, as He -rose, to see what He would do; the sudden pang of -self-reproach as they perceived what it meant; the -bitter humiliation and the burning shame! The way -John recites each detail tells how that scene had -scorched itself on his soul and become an indelible -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">{270}</a></span> -memory. Truly his Master had "given him an -example." To his dying day John could see that sight, -and many a time in the hour of temptation it crossed -his path and made him a better man. May that same -vision of our Lord's great humility rise before our eyes, -when life is full of pride and rivalry, and our hearts are -hot and angry; and may its sweet influence come on -our spirits like cool, pure water, to wash these evil -passions out, and to make us good and gentle, like -Jesus!</p> - -<h3>II.</h3> - -<p class="center small">Read Job xvi., and Matt. xxvi. 31-46.<br /> -<span class="smc">The Unsympathetic.</span>—John xiii. 1-3.</p> - -<p>The preface to the narrative of the feet-washing is -long and involved. The ideas move in a lofty sphere, -seemingly very remote from the simple scene they prelude. -At first sight the reader is tempted to count the -introduction cumbrous, and to question the relevancy. -A more profound appreciation of its contents and connection -changes questioning into admiration, and transforms -perplexity into wondering delight. We perceive -how the thoughts of the prelude light up the whole -scene with a golden glow of human tenderness and -Divine grandeur, so that, like a picture set in its true -light, we now discern in it a depth of meaning and a -wealth of beauty previously unsuspected. The perplexing -preface proves to be the vestibule that leads -into the innermost shrine of the temple.</p> - -<p>The Gospel of St. John was not written till half a -century later than the events it records; yet it is -written as though it were but yesterday the Apostle -had witnessed the scenes he describes. Those recollections -had not been casual visitants, but constant -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">{271}</a></span> -inmates of his mind and heart. There was hardly ever -a day he had not thought about them. At night when -he lay awake and could not sleep he had thought about -them. He conned them over in memory, he pored -over them in his mind, he cherished them in his heart -lovingly. And the promise his Lord had given came -true to him, for the Holy Spirit took of these things of -Christ, and showed them unto him, so that they grew -to his eyes better and better, and more beautiful, and -more full of meaning, till their inmost heart of Divine -goodness was revealed to him. Ah! when we first get -to know Christ it is but His face, His eyes, His outer -form we see. That is a great sight! But to see and -know all the heart of God that was in Him—that takes -a very long time; it takes half a century; it takes -eternity to get at that! John lived in that high quest -almost all his life, gazing at the Master, worshipping -and adoring, laying his heart on the Master's heart; -and the result was that he got to know Jesus far better -than he did when he lived with Him. Hence it is that -the fourth Gospel is so different from the other three. -They just tell us what Jesus said and what Jesus did. -But John's Gospel mixes up the acts and words of -Jesus with John's own thoughts and explanations, so -that it is sometimes hardly possible to tell whether we -are reading what Jesus said or what John thought -about it. He is ever passing behind the loveliness of -the human life, to trace its explanation in the inner -heavenly nature. He paints for us the tree with its -beauteous branches, leaves, and blossoms, and then he -bids us behold the great root in God's earth out of -which it grew; that wonderful root, which is Divine, -and which is the source of all the sweetness that is -brightening the upper air. The Jesus of John's Gospel -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">{272}</a></span> -has more of God in the look of face and eyes, and in -the ring of His voice, than the Jesus of Matthew, Mark, -and Luke. It is the Jesus that lived and grew on in -John's loving memory, year by year becoming greater, -holier, Diviner in the illumination of the Holy Spirit, -that was brooding over that home of Christ in the -heart of John. It is, indeed, Jesus coloured by John's -thoughts and John's feelings; but then they are true -thoughts and true feelings. And so it is that sometimes, -in the evangel of the Beloved Disciple, we almost -lose sight of the outer form and familiar features of our -Lord, but only that we may see more clearly the glory -of His inner nature and the beauty of His heart -Divine.</p> - -<p>It is to this loving industry of John's mind that we -owe the preface of our story, so laden with great -thoughts. It bids us, before we scan the picture of our -Lord's humility, gaze into His heart, and see how that -night it was filled with contending emotions of exaltation -and agony, of tenderest devotion and unrequited -love, and then, in the light of His inner grandeur, grief, -and forlornness, measure the marvel of this wondrous -act of self-abasement. He who washed the feet of -those sinful men was the Son of God and the world's -Saviour. He made Himself their servant! He washed -their feet! But more than that, He was a dying man -that night, and He knew it. His hour was come. Already -the presaging pangs of the bloody sweat, of the -scourging and the spitting, of the anguish and forsakeness -of the cross, had broken like stormy waves of a -troubled sea on Christ's sensitive spirit. The pain, and -the parting, and the solemn awe of death had fallen -upon His soul. He was going to bid good-bye to the -faces He had loved, to the things that were so beautiful -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">{273}</a></span> -in His eyes, to the lilies and the birds, to those He had -clung to on earth, to mother, and brother, and friend, to -all that was sweet and dear to His human heart. His -thoughts were preoccupied that night. He was preparing -Himself for death. His heart was already getting -detached from earth. Oh, if ever there was an -hour when He might have been forgiven, if He had had -no thought but of Himself, it was that night! If ever -He might have held Himself exempt from thinking of -others, and expected them to think of Him, it was that -night. If ever there was an hour when He might have -counted selfishness unforgivable, and bitterly resented -want of sympathy, it was that night, when His grief -was so great and His love so warm and tender. And -yet, says John, it was on that night that amongst us -all, engrossed in our petty, selfish rivalry, He was the -one that could forget Himself, could lay pride aside, -and humble His heart, and do the lowly act that made -peace amongst us, and melted all our pride away, and -made us good, and loving, and fit to hear the wondrous -thoughts of grace and love that were glowing in His -heart for us and for all mankind.</p> - -<p>The lesson is one for good men and women. They -are too apt to think, because they have set out on some -great enterprise of goodness, that therefore they are -exempt from the little courtesies and forbearances of -lowlier service. They mean to do good, but they must -do it with a high hand and in a masterful fashion. -They cannot stoop to conciliate the lukewarm and to -win the unsympathetic. And so too often their cherished -purpose ends in failure, and we see that saddest -sight in Christ's Church—beautiful lives marred and -noble service spoiled, because the sacrifice is not complete -enough, because pride lingers in the heart, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">{274}</a></span> -self-assertion and selfishness. We cannot be faithful -in that which is greatest unless we are willing to be -faithful also that in which is least.</p> - -<h3>III.</h3> - -<p class="center small">Read 2 Sam. xxiv., and John xxi. 15-23.<br /> -<span class="smc">The Wilful.</span>—John xiii. 6-10.</p> - -<p>The character of Peter stands clear cut in the Gospels. -He had a warm heart, an eager mind, an impulsive -will, a quick initiative, and a native aptitude for pre-eminence. -He took the lead almost unconsciously and -without premeditation, but none the less he was conscious -of a keen pleasure in being first. Prominence -with him was not a choice of calculation, but rather an -innate instinct and necessity of nature. Alike by what -was best and by what was worst in him, it was natural -for Peter to stand out from the rest, and whether right -or wrong, to be their spokesman, champion, and chief.</p> - -<p>As Jesus went round, washing the disciples' feet, -there was perfect stillness in the room. None ventured -to speak in explanation or remonstrance till He came -to Peter. But as He prepared to kneel down behind -him, Peter stopped Him with a protest: "Lord, dost -thou wash my feet?" It looks on the face of it altogether -good, and pure, and manly. But then Christ -was no narrow-hearted pedant, eager to find fault, and -imagining offence where none existed. Yet Peter's -protest, instead of being approved, is gently but firmly -refused. "What I do thou dost not understand now, -but thou shalt understand presently." Beneath the fair -surface of the remonstrance there must have been some -unlovely thing that had to be rebuked away. What -was the jarring chord? Had Peter's motive been contrition, -and contrition only, would he have waited till it -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">{275}</a></span> -came to his turn? Would he not have leapt to his feet -at once, and insisted on taking the Master's place, and -washing the feet of them all? Did he sit still, ashamed -for himself and them, but angrily ashamed, resolving -first that he would not basely allow his Lord to demean -Himself, then thinking hard things of the others, who -suffered it without protest? And so, when it came to -his turn, was his heart full of censorious thoughts, and -a proud resolve that he would come out of the humiliation -better than the rest? If, without breach of charity, -we may take this to have been his mood, then we can -understand Christ's kindly deprecation of his words -and act. He fancied his impulse all good and noble. -He did not know the treachery of his own heart. He -did not fathom the necessity for the humbling experience -of having to be washed by his Master. With the -cleansing of his feet in simple obedience, his heart -would be cleansed also of pride and of anger. Then -he would understand what his Master was doing, and -how He had to do it to put right so much that was -wrong in the heart of His wayward follower.</p> - -<p>It is not easy to obey without understanding. -What was noble in Peter, and what was base, combined -to hold him back from yielding. Peter's love recoiled -from the humbling of his Master. Peter's pride shrank -from the humbling of himself. "Thou shalt never -wash my feet." Truly a noble, proud refusal! There -was in it a strange mixture of good and evil. Peter -wanted to come back to right, but he wished to come -in his own way. Christ's way was painful, and the -disciple would fain choose another that did not lead -through the Valley of Humiliation. But then, if you -have gone wrong through pride you cannot get right again -and yet keep your pride. If you would be good you -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">{276}</a></span> -must abase yourself. Peter's refusal meant that his -spirit still was not quite subdued, his heart not quite -humble and contrite. In that mood he could not enter -into the sacred communion of his Master's dying love. -With that spirit cherished and maintained he could -not belong to His fellowship. "If I wash thee not, -thou hast no part with Me."</p> - -<p>Christ knew Peter's heart. The man loved his Master -with a passionate personal attachment. These words -fell on his spirit with a sudden chill. To have no -part with Christ—that was more than he could bear. -"Lord, not my feet only, but also my hands and my -head." It is as though he would say, "A great part -in Thee!" And we might readily count the request -blameless, and the mood that uttered it commendable -only. But Jesus declines it, and in refusing suggests -that it has in it something of unreality and excess. So -then, without his knowing it, there must have lurked in -the thought Peter's love of pre-eminence. First of all, -he had wished to differ from the others in not being -washed at all. Now that he must be washed, he would -be the most washed of all. Ah, the subtle danger of -wanting to be first, even in goodness! We cannot -safely try to be good for the sake of being foremost. -We must be good just for goodness' sake, with no -thought of self at all. And surely silent submission -had become Peter better than any speech. When a -man knows he has gone wrong again and again, and -Christ has undertaken to set him right, his wisdom is -to offer no resistance, nor make any suggestion, as if -he knew better than Jesus what had best be done.</p> - -<p>Self-will in choosing the way in which we are to be -saved and sanctified is a blunder from which few are -quite free. We cannot leave our souls simply in God's -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">{277}</a></span> -care and teaching. We catch at Christ's hands, and -distrust the simplicity of His grace, and dictate to the -Holy Spirit the experience and discipline we deem best. -Surely it is not becoming and it is not wise. When a -man has been taken into God's hands, and has been -forgiven his sins, and is being taught by God, he should -just keep very still and very humble, and let God make -of him what He will.</p> - -<h3>IV.</h3> - -<p class="center small">Read 1 Sam. xxiv., and Luke xxii. 47-62.<br /> -<span class="smc">The Faithless.</span>—John xiii. 11.</p> - -<p>Jesus enjoined us to love our enemies. We count it -a hard saying. An enemy is not lovable. The sight -of him wakes instinctively not affection, but antagonism. -It is not easy to wish him well, to do him good. We -find it difficult to endure his presence without show of -repugnance. Still harder is it to pity him, to help him, -to do him a service. But there is something worse -than an enemy, something more repulsive, more unforgivable. -That is a traitor—the faithless friend, who -pretends affection with malice in his breast, who receives -our love while he is plotting our ruin, and under -cover of a caress stabs us to the heart. Open hostility -may be met, resented, and forgotten, but cold-blooded -treachery our human nature stamps as the all but -unpardonable sin. Its presence is revolting, and its -touch loathsome. An honest heart sickens at the sight -of it.</p> - -<p>Among the guests gathered around the table, that -night before our Lord's death, was Judas, who betrayed -Him. He had sold his Master for thirty pieces of -silver, and was watching his opportunity to complete -the covenant of blood. He sat there while Jesus washed -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">{278}</a></span> -their feet. Jesus knew all his falseness, all his heartlessness, -all his treachery. He knew it, and He washed -the traitor's feet.</p> - -<p>The perfection of our Lord's holiness is apt to mislead -us into the idea that because it was faultless, it -was therefore easy. We conceive His goodness as -spontaneous, His sinlessness as without effort. But in -truth He was a man tempted in all points like as we -are. He was obedient unto death, but His obedience -He learned by the things which He suffered. He was -perfect in purity, meekness, self-denial, but only by -humbling Himself and crucifying the flesh. His self-control -was absolute, but it cost Him as much as it does -us—perchance more. His sinless, holy heart shrank -from sin's foulness, and suffered in its loathsome contact -as our stained souls cannot. The base presence -and false fellowship of a Judas must have been a -perpetual pain to His pure spirit. But He endured his -meanness with a heavenly self-restraint that curbed -each sign of repugnance, and to the last He maintained -for the traitor a Divine compassion that would have -saved him from himself, and that in Jesus's nature -compelled the very instincts of loathing to transform -themselves into quite marvellous ministries of superhuman -loving. It was no empty show of humility and -kindness, it was pity and love incarnate, when Jesus -knelt at Judas's back, and washed the feet of His -betrayer.</p> - -<p>That seems to me one of the most wondrous, most -tragic scenes in this world's story. Could we but have -seen it—Jesus kneeling behind Judas, laving his feet -with water, touching them with His hands, wiping -them gently dry, and the traitor keeping still through -it all! What a theme for the genius of a painter—the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">{279}</a></span> -face of Jesus and the face of Judas—the emotions -of grandeur looking out of the one, of good and evil -contending in the other! If anything could have -broken the traitor's heart, and made him throw himself -in penitent abasement on the Saviour's pity, it was -when he felt on his feet his Master's warm breath and -gentle touch, and divined all the forgiving love that -was in His lowly heart.</p> - -<p>This was our Lord's treatment of a faithless friend. -On the night of His betrayal He washed the feet of -His bitterest enemy, of the man who had sold Him -to death. He rises from that act, and speaks to you -and me, and says, "I have given you an example, -that ye should do as I have done to you." If you -have a friend that has deceived you, do not hate him; -if you have an enemy, forgive him; if you can do -him a humble kindness, do it; if you can soften and -save him by lowly forbearance, be pitiful and long-suffering -to the uttermost. It is the law of Christ. If -you call it too hard for flesh and blood, remember how -your Master, that night He was betrayed, washed the -feet of the man that betrayed Him</p> - -<h3>V.</h3> - -<p class="center small">Read Isa. xl., and 1 Cor. xiii.<br /> -<span class="smc">The Secret of Magnanimity.</span>—John xiii. 12-17.</p> - -<p>There is a contagious quality in greatness. Young -hearts, generous souls, dwelling in the vicinity of a -hero, are apt to catch his thoughts, and words, and -ways. Christ's greatness is His goodness, and that -is absolute. Men look at Jesus, behold His perfection, -grow to love Him, and hardly knowing how, become -like Him. We see His tranquillity, whose minds are -so perturbed by life's worries and men's wrongs. We -wonder at His infinite peace, whose hearts are so hot -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">{280}</a></span> -and restless with the world's rivalries and ambitions. -Our spirits, tired, and hurt, and fevered, gaze wistfully -at the great serenity of His gentle life, and ere we -know it a strange longing steals into our breast to -learn His secret and find rest unto our souls. Plainly -the panacea does not consist in any change outside us, -for, do what we will, still in every lot there will be -crooks and crosses that cannot be haughtily brushed -aside, that can only be robbed of their sting by being -humbly borne and patiently endured. Moreover, the -world was not least, but most unkind to Him, yet could -not mar His peace, nor poison the sweetness of His -soul. Within Himself lay the talisman of His charmed -life, the hidden spring of His unchanging goodness. -It was the spell of a lowly, loving, and loyal heart. -This is the key to the enigma of His perfect patience. -He loved us, and He gave Himself for us. And so, -whether His friends were gentle and obedient or wayward -and rebellious, whether they were kind and -sympathetic or cold, and hard, and selfish, whether they -were good or evil, He remained unchanged and unchangeable. -"Having loved His own which were in -the world, He loved them unto the end."</p> - -<p>The machinery of life is not simple, but complex and -intricate. In its working there cannot but be much -friction. If the strains and jars of social existence are -to be borne without irritation and ill-will, there must -be between us and our neighbours a plentiful supply -of the oil of human kindness. The pressure and constraint -that from a stranger would be irksome or -unendurable become tolerable or even gladsome when -borne for one we love. Did we, as God meant us to -do, love our neighbour as ourself, life's burdens would -seem light, for love makes all things easy. But then -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">{281}</a></span> -the difficulty just is to love our neighbour as ourself. -Here, as elsewhere, it is the first step that costs. For -too often our neighbour is not lovable, but hateful, and -our own self is so much nearer to us than any neighbour -can be. Its imperious demands silence his claims -on our kindness, and drown the calls of duty. Its -exuberant growth overshadows his, and robs him of -the sunshine. Its intense acquisitiveness absorbs all -our care and interest, all our sympathy and affection, -so that we have no time or heart to spare for his -exactions—no, not even for his necessities. Clearly in -this inordinate love of self is the root of the wrong and -unrest of our life. Because we love our own self too -much, we love others too little to be able to be generous -and good like Christ. Wrapped up unduly in selfish -anxiety for our own happiness and dignity, we become -too sensitive to the injuries of foes, the slights of -friends, the cuts and wounds of fortune. The reason -why we lack the lowliness of Jesus, and miss the blessedness -of His heavenly peace, is our refusal to take -up the cross and follow Him in the pathway of self-sacrifice. -It was His detachment from self that made -Him invulnerable to wounds, imperturbable amid wrongs, -good and kind to the evil and to the froward. Because -He cared much for others and little for Himself, He -was lifted above the strife and restless emulation of -our self-seeking lives. The charm that changed for -Him the storm of life into a great calm was the simple -but potent spell of self-renunciation.</p> - -<p>The thought is one that captivates fresh hearts and -noble souls with the fascination of a revelation. It -seems to unlock all doors, to break all bars, and to lift -from life its mysterious burden of perplexity and pain. -The pathway of renunciation opens before their eyes -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">{282}</a></span> -with an indefinable charm, unfolding boundless vistas -of lofty achievement, haunted by sweet whispers of a -joy and content, dreamt of many a time, but never -before attained. It is a fond delusion, that experience -soon dispels. At the outset the way glows with the -rosy light of a new dawn, and our footsteps are light -with the bounding life of a fresh springtide; but ere -many miles are traversed the road becomes hard and -rough, and we, with heavy hearts, drag hot and dusty -feet along a weary way. For the way of the Cross -has indeed blessedness at the end of it, but easy it -cannot be till it is ended. To curb our pride, to crush -our self-seeking, to conquer passion, to quell ambition, -to crucify the flesh—these things are not easy. They -have the stern stress and strain of battle in them. To -be patient under injuries, to suffer slights and wrongs, -to take the lowest place without a murmur, are conquests -that demand a strong heart and a great mind. -Where shall we learn a serenity that can be disturbed -by no trouble, where find a peace that disappointment -cannot break, where reach a goodness that no wrong -can ruffle? What is the secret of magnanimity?</p> - -<p>The answer comes to us from John's picture of his -Lord's humility. In the forefront we behold Jesus -kneeling on the ground and washing His disciples' -feet, and we wonder at such lowliness. But now -John's finger points, and our eyes rest on the heart of -this lowly Saviour, and reverently we read His thoughts. -"Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things -into His hands, and that He was come from God and -went to God," washed the disciples' feet. There is -at once the marvel of His condescension and its explanation. -He was so great He could afford to abase himself. -His followers stood on their dignity, and jealously -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">{283}</a></span> -guarded their rank. He was sure of His position. -Nothing could affect His Divine dignity. He came -from God; He was going to God. What mattered it -what happened to Him, what place He held, what -humiliation He endured, in the brief snatch of earthly -life between? And we, if we would be great-minded -like Him, must have the same high faith, the same -heavenly consciousness. We must know that this -world, with its wrongs and disappointments, is not all; -that this life, with its pride and pomps, is but a passing -show. We must remember ever the grander world -beyond, the infinite life within, and even now, amid -the glare and din of time, live in and for eternity. -Then we should no longer fret for a thousand trifles -that vex us, we should not trouble for all the wrongs -that pain and grieve us. What dignity, what grandeur, -what Divine nobility there would be in every thought, in -every word, in every deed of all our life on earth, were -the consciousness ever glowing in our hearts that we -too came from God and are going back to God!</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">{284}</a></div> - - -<h2>XVI.<br /> -<i>A HYMN OF HEART'S EASE.</i></h2> - -<p class="center small"><span class="smc">Sunday Readings for the Month.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse quote2">"Lord, my heart is not haughty,</div> -<div class="verse">Nor mine eyes lofty:</div> -<div class="verse">Neither do I exercise myself in great matters,</div> -<div class="verse">Or in things too high for me.</div> -<div class="verse">Surely I have behaved</div> -<div class="verse">And quieted myself;</div> -<div class="verse">As a child that is weaned of its mother,</div> -<div class="verse">My soul is even as a weaned child.</div> -<div class="verse">Let Israel hope in the Lord</div> -<div class="verse">From henceforth and for ever."—Ps. cxxxi.</div> -</div> - -</div> -</div> - -<h3>I.</h3> - -<p class="center small">Read Job xxvi., and 1 Cor. xiii.<br /> -<span class="smc">The Source of Unrest.</span><br /> -"Things too high for me."</p> - -<p class="drop-cap">We are apt to think and speak as if difficulty of -faith were an experience peculiar to our age. -It is indeed true that at particular periods speculative -uncertainty has been more widely diffused than at others, -and our own age may be one of them. But the real -causes of perplexity in things religious are permanent -and unchanging, having their roots deep-seated in the -essential nature of man's relation to the world and to -God. There has never been a time when men have -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">{285}</a></span> -not had to fight hard battles for their faith against the -dark mysteries and terrors of existence, that pressed -in upon their souls and threatened to enslave them. -What is this brief Psalm, echoing like a sea-shell in its -tiny circle the heart-beat of a vanished world, but the -pathetic record of a soul's dread struggle with doubt -and darkness, telling in its simple rhythm and quiet -cadences the story how through the breakers of unbelief -it fought its way to the firm shores of faith, and -peace, and hope? It reads like a tale of yesterday. It -is just what we are seeking, suffering, achieving. Yet -more than two thousand years have come and gone -since the brain that thought and the hand that wrote -have mouldered into dust.</p> - -<p>The poem must have been penned at a time when the -poet's own misfortunes, or the general disorders of the -age, were such as seemed to clash irreconcilably with -his preconceived notions of God's goodness, character, -and purposes. The shock of this collision between fact -and theory shook to its foundations the structure of his -inherited creed, and opened great fissures of questioning -in the fabric of his personal faith. He was tempted -to abandon the believing habits of a religious training -and the confiding instincts of a naturally devout heart, -and either to doubt the being and power of the Almighty, -or to deny His wisdom and beneficence. For a long -time he was tossed hither and thither on the alternate -ebb and flow of questioning denial and believing affirmation, -finding nowhere any firm foothold amid the -unstable tumult of conflicting evidence and inconclusive -reasoning. At last out of the confusion there dawned -on his mind a growing persuasion of something clear -and certain. He perceived that not only was the -balance of evidence indecisive, but also that the issue -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">{286}</a></span> -never could but be indeterminate. For he saw that the -method itself was impotent, and could never reach or -unravel the themes of his agonised questioning. A -settled conviction forced itself upon his mind that there -are in life problems no human ingenuity can solve, -questions that baffle man's intellect to comprehend, -"great matters, and things too high" for him. It was a -discovery startling, strange, and painful. But at least -it was something solid and certain; it was firm land, on -which one's feet might be planted. Moreover, it was -not an ending, but a beginning, a starting-point that -led somewhere. Perchance it might prove to be the -first step in a rocky pathway, that should guide his -footsteps to heights of clearer light and wider vision, -where the heart, if not the intellect, might reach a solution -of its questioning and enter into rest. The quest he -had commenced had turned out a quest of the unattainable, -but it had brought him to a real and profitable -discovery. He had recognised and accepted once and -for ever the fact of the fixed and final limitation of -human knowledge.</p> - -<p>It is an experience all men have to make, an experience -that grows with age and deepens with wisdom, -as we more and more encounter the mysteries of -existence, and fathom the shallowness of our fancied -knowledge. What do we know of God, the world, -ourselves? How much, and how little! How much -about them, how little of them! Who of us, for instance, -has any actual conception of God in His absolute being? -You remember how in dreamy childhood you would -vainly strive to arrest and fasten in some definite image -the vague vision of dazzling glory you had learned to -call God, which floated before your soul, awing you with -its majesty and immeasurable beauty, but evading every -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">{287}</a></span> -effort to grasp it. With gathering years and widening -horizon you watched the world's changeful aspects and -ceaseless movements, till nature seemed the transparent -vesture of its mighty Maker, but it was all in -vain that you tried to pierce the thin veil and behold -the invisible Worker within. You took counsel with -science, and it told you much concerning the properties -of matter and the sequences of force, but the ultimate -cause, that which is beneath, that which worketh all in -all, it could not reveal. You turned to philosophy, and -you traced the soaring thoughts of the sages, that -rushed upward like blazing rockets, as if they would -pierce and illuminate the remotest heaven; but you saw -how, ere they reached that far goal, their fire went out, -their light was quenched, and they fell back through -the darkness, baffled and spent. You betook yourself -to revelation, counting that at last you were entering -the inner shrine, and you did indeed learn much that -was new and precious; but soon came the discovery that -here also we do but see through a glass darkly, and -that our best knowledge of God is no more than a -knowledge in part. "Lo, these are but the outskirts of -His ways; and how small a portion we know of them! -But the thunder of His power, who can understand?" -We are, as it were, surrounded on every hand by -mighty mountain peaks, whose rocky sides foil every -effort to explore the pinnacles that lie hidden in distant -cloud and mist. The achievements of the human intellect -are many and marvellous, but above and beyond -its realm remain, and doubtless ever shall remain, -"great matters, and things too high" for us.</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">{288}</a></div> - -<h3>II.</h3> - -<p class="center small">Read Ps. xxxvii., and Matt. xi.<br /> -<span class="smc">The Secret of Rest.</span><br /> -"Lord, my heart is not haughty, nor mine eyes lofty."</p> - -<p>There is in the human intellect an insatiable eagerness -and an indomitable energy of acquisitiveness. It -carries in its consciousness an ineradicable instinct of -domination, that spurs it to boundless enterprise and -prompts it to spurn defeat. This lordly quality of the -human mind is the natural outcome of its sovereignty -over the physical creation, and the appropriate expression -of its kinship with the Creator. It is part of man's -Divine birthright, and the insignia of his nobility. But -it brings with it the peril of all special prerogative, the -inevitable temptation that accompanies the possession -of power. It tends to breed a haughtiness that is -restive of restraint, a self-sufficiency that forgets its -own boundaries, and an arrogance that refuses to wield -the sceptre of aught but an unlimited empire. So it -comes to pass, when reason in its restless research is -brought to a stop by the invisible but very actual -confines of human knowledge, it resents the suggestion -of limitation, and declines to accept the arrest of its -onward march. The temptation that besets it is twofold. -On the one hand, pride, irritated by the check, -but too clear-sighted to ignore it, is tempted to refuse -to admit any truths it cannot fathom or substantiate, -and to deny the real existence of any realm of being -beyond its natural ken. This is the characteristic -error of Rationalism and Positivism. On the other -hand, there is in the opposite direction a tendency, born -equally of intellectual pride and self-will, to refuse the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">{289}</a></span> -restriction, to ignore reason's incapacity, and so to -venture to state and explain that which is inexplicable. -Alike in the spheres of science and of religion men -strive recklessly to remove from God's face the veil -which His own hand has not drawn, and irreverently -intrude into mysteries hopelessly beyond human thought -to conceive or human speech to express. This is the -transgression of rash speculation and of arrogant -dogmatism, and it is in itself as sinful, and in its -consequences as harmful, as are the blank negations of -scepticism.</p> - -<p>Each of these errors the author of our poem was -fortunate enough to escape. Recognising the limitation -of all earthly knowledge, he does not rage against the -restrictions and beat himself against the environing -bars. He does not take it on himself, by a foolish fiat -of his finite littleness, to decree the non-existence of -everything too subtle for his dim eyes to perceive, or -too fine for his dull ear to hear. Where he fails to -understand the wisdom or goodness of God's ways he -does not intrude and try to alter them, neither does he -wildly struggle to comprehend their meaning, nor madly -refuse to submit to them. He adapts himself to the -Divine dealing, and is content to obey without insisting -on knowing the reason why. He curbs in the cravings -of his mind, nor will suffer the swift stream of his -thought to rush on like an impetuous torrent, dashing -itself against obstructing rocks, and fretting its waters -into froth and foam. He possesses his soul in patience, -and does not "exercise" himself "in great matters, or -in things too high" for him.</p> - -<p>This attitude of acquiescence is the position imposed -on us by necessity, and prescribed by wisdom. But, -as a matter of fact, its practical possession depends on -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">{290}</a></span> -the presence of a certain inner mood or disposition. -We have seen that the denials of scepticism and the -excesses of dogmatism are alike the offspring of pride, -and spring from an over-estimation of the potency of -reason. Therefore, as we might expect, the poet's -simple acceptance of limitation and contentment with -partial knowledge are due to the fact that he has -formed a modest estimate of himself. "Lord, my -heart is not haughty, nor mine eyes lofty." His submission -to restraint has its root in humility. He does -not exaggerate his capacity. He takes the measure of -his mind accurately. He does not expect to be able to -accomplish more than his abilities are equal to. It -seems to him quite natural that men should not be -able to comprehend all God's ways. It is to be expected -that there should be many things in God's operations -beyond their knowledge, and in his thoughts passing -their understanding. It is, therefore, no matter for -surprise that men should encounter in God's universe -"great matters," and "things too high" for them. Nay, -the wonder and disappointment would be if there were -no mysteries, no infinitudes, transcending our narrow -souls. Would it gladden you if indeed God were no -greater than our thoughts of Him? What if the sun -were no brighter and no vaster than the shrunken, dim, -and tarnished image of his radiance framed in a child's -toy mirror? Alas for us if God and the universe -were not immeasurably grander than mankind's most -majestic conceptions of them! Measuring ourselves -thus, in truth and lowliness, over against God, who -will not say, with the poet of our Psalm, "Lord, my -heart is not haughty, nor mine eyes lofty: neither do I -exercise myself in great matters, or in things too high -for me"?</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">{291}</a></div> - -<h3>III.</h3> - -<p class="center small">Read Ps. lxxiii., and Heb. xii.<br /> -<span class="smc">Calm after Storm.</span><br /> -"Surely I have behaved and quieted myself."</p> - -<p>Peace bulks largely in all our dreams of ideal -happiness. Without repose of heart we cannot conceive -of perfect contentment. But we must not forget -that the peace of inexperience is a fragile possession, -and that the only lasting rest is the repose that is based -upon conquest. We speak with languid longing and -ease-seeking envy of the peace of Jesus, because we -forget that His peace was a peace constituted out of -conflict, maintained in the face of struggle, and made -perfect through suffering. Therefore it was a peace -strong and majestic, and the story of His life is the -world's greatest epic. A life that commenced with -effortless attainment, proceeded in easy serenity, and -ended in tranquillity were a life without a history, -pleasant but monotonous, devoid of dramatic interest, -and destitute of significance. The young cadet, in his -boyish bloom and unworn beauty, furnishes the painter -with a fairer model, but the grizzled hero of a hundred -fights, with his battered form and furrowed face, makes -the greater picture. It means so much more. And it -means more precisely because the tried valour of the -veteran is so much more than the promise of the untested -tyro. Innocence unsullied and untried has a -loveliness all its own, but it lacks the pathos of suggestion, -the depth of significance, and the strength of -permanence that make the glory of virtue that has -borne the brunt of battle, and has known the bitterness -of defeat, the agony of retrieval, and the exultation -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">{292}</a></span> -of recovered victory. We talk proudly of the faith that -has never felt a doubt, that has been pierced by no -perplexity, and shows no mark of the sweat and stress -of conflict. We look askance on difficulty of faith, -have no mercy on lack of assurance, and reckon them -happy who are convinced without trouble and believe -without effort. That is not quite the Bible estimate. -The Psalms echo with the prayers of hard-pressed -faith, and throb with the cries of agonised doubt. The -New Testament speaks of faith as a fight, counts them -happy who endure, and pronounces blessed the man -who encounters and overcomes temptation. If "strait -is the gate and narrow is the way that leadeth unto -life," how should faith be easy, since faith is that gate, -that way? The truth is that we invert the Divine -standard of values, and put last what God puts first. -We count enviable the land-locked harbours of unthreatened -belief, that are protected from assault by their -very shallowness and narrowness. We are blind to -the providential discipline which ordains that men should -wrestle with difficulty, and in overcoming it attain a -tried and tempered faith possible only to those who -have passed through the furnace of temptation. For -sinful men there can be no real strength that is not -transmuted weakness, no permanent peace that is not a -triumph over rebellion, no perfect faith that is not a -victory over doubt. The saints that have most reflected -the spirit of Christ formed their fair character, like -their Master, in lives of which it may be said, "Without -were fightings, within were fears." The way of the -cross has ever been a way of conflict, and it is they -who come out of great tribulation that enter into the -rest that remaineth. The deep lakes that sleep in the -hollows of high mountains, and mirror in their placid -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">{293}</a></span> -depths the quiet stars, have their homes in the craters -of volcanoes, that have spent their fury, quenched their -fires, and are changed into pools of perpetual peace.</p> - -<p>There breathes through our Psalm an atmosphere -of infinite repose—a subdued rest, like the hush of a -cradle song. Nevertheless, if we listen closely enough -to its music, we catch under its lullaby the low echo -of a bygone anguish, the lingering sob of a vanished -tempest. Nature's most exquisite embodiment of calm -is the sweet fresh air that is left by a great storm; -and the perfection of the Psalm's restfulness is that it -consists of unrest conquered and transmuted. For the -poet's peace is the result of a great struggle, the -reward of a supreme act of self-subjection. "Surely -I have behaved and quieted myself;" or, preserving -the imagery of the words, "Surely I have calmed and -hushed my soul." His submissiveness had not been -native, but acquired. His lowliness of heart was not -a natural endowment, but a laborious accomplishment. -His acquiescence in God's mysterious ways was a thing -not inborn and habitual, but was rather the calm that -follows a storm, when the tempest has moaned itself -into stillness, and the great waves have rocked themselves -into unruffled rest. For his soul had once been -rebellious, like a storm-lashed sea dashing itself against -the iron cliffs that bounded its waves, and impetuous -like a tempest rushing through the empty air, seeking -to attain the unattainable, and spending its force vainly -in vacancy. He had longed to flash thought, lightning -like, athwart the thick darkness that surrounded -Jehovah's throne, and to lay bare its hidden secrets. -It was all in vain. Hemmed in on every hand, beaten -back in his attempts to pierce the high heaven, baffled -in every effort to read the enigma of God's ways, he -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">{294}</a></span> -had been tempted to revolt, and either to renounce his -trust in the Almighty's goodness or to refuse to submit -to His control. It cost him a hard and weary struggle -to regain his reliance, to restore his allegiance, to calm -and hush his soul.</p> - -<p>There was nothing wonderful in this conflict, nor -anything exceptional in the experience. It is the -common lot of men. True, there are some natures for -whom the tenure of faith is less arduous than it is for -others. But in almost every life there come crises -when this same battle has to be fought. For it is not -always easy to be content to trust without seeing, and -to follow God's leading in the dark, when the way -seems all wrong and mistaken. There are things in -life that rudely shake our faith from its dreamless -slumber, and sweep the soul away over the dreary -billows of doubt and darkness. There are times when, -to our timorous hearts, it seems too terrible to be -compelled just to trust and not to understand. Such -conflicts come to us all more or less. Painful and -protracted the struggle sometimes is, but not necessarily -evil, not even harmful. For if we do but fight it out -honestly and bravely the fruits will be, as they were -with our poet, wholesome, good, and peaceable.</p> - -<h3>IV.</h3> - -<p class="center small">Read Ps. xlvi., and Phil. ii.<br /> -<span class="smc">Victory by Surrender.</span><br /> -"As a child that is weaned of his mother: my soul is even as a weaned child."</p> - -<p>It is good to cheer men on in a noble strife by speaking -of the certainty of victory, and by the story of -heroic deeds to nerve their arms for battle and stir -their hearts to war. But that is not enough. They -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">{295}</a></span> -want more than that. They want to learn how to -wage a winning war, how to secure the highest triumph, -how out of conflict to organise peace. In the good -fight of faith what is the secret of success? Has our -Psalm any light on that point? By what method did -the poet still the turmoil of his doubt and reach his -great peace? The process is finely pictured in a -homely but exquisite image: "Like a weaned child on -its mother, like a weaned child is my soul within me." -What does that mean? Torn by an insatiable longing -to know the meaning of God's mysterious ways, he -had struggled fiercely to wring an answer from the -Almighty. His heart was long the abode of unrest, -and storm, and tempest. At length peace falls on the -fray; there is no more clangour of contention: all is -quietness and rest. How is this? Has he succeeded -in solving the enigmas that pained him? Have his -cravings for an answer from God been gratified? If -not, how has he attained this perfect repose? His -peace is the peace of a weaned child. Not, therefore, -by obtaining that which he craved has he found rest; -for the rest of a weaned child is not that of gratification, -but of resignation. It is the repose, not of satisfied -desire, but of abnegation and submission. After a -period of prolonged and painful struggle to have its -longings answered, the little one gives over striving -any more, and is at peace. That process was a picture -to our poet of what passed in his own heart. Like a -weaned child, its tears over, its cries hushed, reposing -on the very bosom that a little ago excited its most -tumultuous desires, his soul, that once passionately -strove to wring from God an answer to its eager questionings, -now wearied, resigned, and submissive, just -lays itself to rest in simple faith on that goodness of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">{296}</a></span> -God whose purposes it cannot comprehend, and whose -ways often seem to it harsh, and ravelled, and obscure. -It is a picture of infinite repose and of touching beauty—the -little one nestling close in the mother's arms, its -head reclining trustfully on her shoulder, the tears -dried from its now quiet face, and the restful eyes, with -just a lingering shadow of bygone sorrow in them still, -peering out with a look of utter peace, contentment, -and security. It is the peace of accepted pain, the -victory of self-surrender.</p> - -<p>The transition from doubt to belief, from strife to -serenity, is remarkable. We want to know what produced -this startling change of mood, what influences -fostered it, what motives urged it, what reasons -justified it. Perhaps a glimpse, a suggestion of the -process is hinted in the simile chosen from child life. -The infant takes its rest on the breast of its mother—of -its mother, whose refusal of its longings caused it -all the pain and conflict, whose denial of its instinctive -desires seemed so unnatural and so cruel. How is it, -then, that instead of being alienated, the child turns to -her for solace in the sorrow she caused, and reposes -on the very breast that so resolutely declined to supply -its wants? It is because over against this single act -of seeming unkindness stand unnumbered deeds of -goodness and acts of fondness, and so this one cause -of doubt and of aversion is swallowed up in a whole -atmosphere of unceasing tenderness and love. Besides, -rating the apparent unmotherliness at the very highest, -still there is no other to whom the child can turn that -will better help it and care for it than its mother. So, -since it cannot get all it would like, the little one is -content to take what it may have—the warmth, and -shelter, and security of its mother's breast.</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">{297}</a></div> - -<p>This process of conflict between doubt and trust, -rebellion and resignation, which half-unconsciously -takes place in the child, is a miniature of the strife that -had surged to and fro in the poet's soul. Pained and -perplexed by the mystery of God's ways, foiled in his -efforts to fathom them, denied all explanation by the -Almighty, he was beset by the temptation to abandon -faith and cast off his allegiance to his heavenly Friend. -But he saw that that would not solve any enigma or -lighten the darkness. Rather it would confront him -with still greater difficulties, and leave the world only -more empty, dark, and dreary. Then, benumbed and -tired out, he gave over thinking and arguing, and was -content for a little just to live in the circle of light -and sunshine that ever is within the great darkness. -Gradually it dawned upon him that in the world of -men's experience there was much, very much, of goodness -that could only be the doing of the God that -moves in the mystery and in the darkness. The -warmth of the thought crept into his heart, softer -feelings woke, love and lowliness asserted themselves, -and at length he became content to just trust God, -spite of all perplexities, partly because there was so -much undeniable proof of His tenderness, and partly -because there was more of rest and comfort in this -course than in any other.</p> - -<h3>V.</h3> - -<p class="center small">Read Gen. xxxii., and Rev. vii.<br /> -<span class="smc">The Recompense of Faith.</span><br /> -"Let Israel hope in the Lord from henceforth and for ever."</p> - -<p>Who has not wondered why there is so much -mystery in the universe, such perplexity in our life, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">{298}</a></span> -and in revelation itself why so many doubts are -permitted to assail our souls and make it hard for -us to be Christians? Is this wisely or kindly ordered? -Perchance it is necessary, but is it not evil? Can -warfare ever be aught but loss and not gain? The -question is natural, but the answer is not uncertain. -The fight of faith is a good fight. Success means no -bare victory, but one crowned with splendid spoil. -We shall be the better for having had to fight. The -gain of the conflict shall out-weigh all the loss, and in -the final triumph the victors shall manifestly appear -more than conquerors. This is no paradox, but the -common law of life. The same principle rules in the -homely image of the child. Weaning is not needless -pain, is not wasted suffering. It is a blessing in -disguise. The distressing process is in truth promotion. -It is the vestibule of pain that leads to a -maturer and larger life. In like fashion the struggles -of doubt are inevitable, if faith is not to remain feeble -and infantile. Only in the furnace of affliction does it -acquire its finest qualities. Were there no clouds and -darkness around God's throne, how should men learn -humility and practise reverence? Human nature is -too coarse a thing to be entrusted with perfect knowledge. -A religion of knowledge only were a hard and -soulless thing, devoid of grace, and life, and love; for -sight and reason leave nothing for the imagination, and -rob affection of its sweet prerogative to dream and to -adore. Without the discipline of toil and the developing -strain of antagonism, how should faith grow strong, -and broad, and deep? Most of us start in the life -religious with an inherited, fostered, unreasoning belief, -which therefore is weak, puny, and unstable. It -is the storms of doubt and difficulty that rouse it to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">{299}</a></span> -self-consciousness, stir it to activity, urge it by exertion -to growth and expansion, and compel it to strike deep -roots in the soil of reality. For in such conflict the -soul is driven in upon God. It is forced to make -actual proof of its possessions, to realise and employ -properties that hitherto were known to it only through -the title-deeds or as mere assets available in case of -necessity. With wonder faith discovers the rare value -of its inheritance, and enters for the first time into -actual enjoyment of its spiritual treasures. It is no -longer faith about God, but is now faith in God. In -its agony and helplessness the soul is compelled to -press close up to God, to take tighter hold of His hand, -to fling itself on Him for help and comfort, just as a -sick child clings to its mother. And ever after such a -struggle there are a fresh beauty and sacredness in its -relation to God. There is that pathetic tenderness of -affection friends have who by some misunderstanding -were well-nigh sundered, but having overcome it, are -nearer and dearer to each other than ever before. -There are a quiet community of knowledge, and a restful -confidentiality of affection, that were not there before, -that come of having had to fight that you might not be -severed from each other. The recoil of joy from the -dread of loss, and the memory of the agony that thought -was to you, make God dearer to you now than ever. -Out of the very strife and doubt there is born a new -assurance of your love, in the consciousness you have -acquired of the pain it would be to you to be deprived -of your Divine Friend.</p> - -<p>The experience is of general application. It is the -secret of serenity amid the world's mystery and life's -pain and perplexity. Therefore, when at any time the -clouds gather around you, and their blackness seems to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">{300}</a></span> -darken on the very face of God, do not turn away in -terror or anger, but cling the faster to Him, even if it be -by the extreme hem of His garment. What wonder if -your feeble eye fails to read clear and true each majestic -feature of that Divine face which is so infinitely high -above you? What matter if sometimes its radiance is -obscured by the chill fogs and creeping vapours of -earth's mingled atmosphere? The darkness is not on -God's face, but beneath it. One day you shall rise -higher, and you shall see Him as He is. Meantime, in -your gloomiest hour, when overwhelming doubts, like -hissing waves, wind and coil around your heart, and -seek to pluck it from its hold, then do but let all other -things go, and with your last energy cling to this -central, sovereign certainty, that whatever else is true, -this at least is sure, that God is good, and that He -whose doings you cannot comprehend is your Father. -And so, weary of dashing yourself vainly against the -bulwarks of darkness that girdle His throne, be content -to lay yourself down humbly as a tired child on the -breast of your heavenly Father. Thus, with your questionings -unanswered, with the darkness not rolled away, -with a thousand problems all unsolved, be quieted, be -hushed, be at peace. Lay down your head, your weary, -aching head, on the great heart of God, and be at rest.</p> - -<p>Doing this, you shall reach not merely passive resignation, -but joy, and peace, and trust. For of humble -submission hope is born. "Let Israel hope in the -Lord from henceforth and for ever." Perchance all -you can do now is just, in weariness, more out of helpless -despair than active expectancy, to fall back on a -faint, broken-hearted trust in God's goodness. It is an -act of faith, poor enough, in truth, but it holds in it the -promise and potency of a better confidence. For it is -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">{301}</a></span> -into the arms of God that it carries you. Resting there -in the lap of His infinite love, you shall feel the warmth -of His great heart penetrating softly into yours. The -weary, throbbing pain will slowly pass away. Deep -rest and quiet peace will steal into your spirit. And at -length, out of a helpless, compelled, and well-nigh hopeless -surrender, there shall be born within you fearless -trust and winged reliance, and you shall hope in the -Lord from henceforth and for ever.</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">{302}</a></div> - -<h2>XVII.<br /> -<i>THE FIRST CHAPTER OF GENESIS.</i></h2> - -<p class="drop-cap">There is in many people's minds a painful uneasiness -about the relation of the Bible to modern -science and philosophy. The appearance of each new -theory is deprecated by believers with pious timidity, -and hailed by sceptics with unholy hope. On neither -side is this a dignified or a wholesome attitude. Its -irksome and intrusive pressure promotes neither a -robust piety nor a sober-minded science. It is worth -while inquiring whether there is any sufficient foundation -for either alarm or expectancy in the actual relations -of the Bible to scientific thought. We shall work out -our answer to the question on the historical battle-field -of the 1st chapter of Genesis. Results reached there -will be found to possess a more or less general validity.</p> - -<p>There are two records of creation—one is contained -in the Bible, which claims to be God's Word; the other -is stamped in the structure of the world, which is God's -work. Both being from the same Author, we should -expect them to agree in their general tenour; but in fact, -so far from being in harmony, they have an appearance -of mutual contradiction that demands explanation.</p> - -<p>In studying the problem certain considerations must -be borne in mind. There is a loose way of talking -about antagonism between the natural and the revealed -accounts of creation. That is not quite accurate. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">{303}</a></span> -Conflict between these there cannot be, for they never -actually come into contact. It is not they, but our -theories, that meet and collide. The discord is not in -the original sources, but in our renderings of them. -That is a very different matter, and of quite incommensurate -importance.</p> - -<p>The Bible story is very old. It is written in an -ancient and practically dead language. The meaning -of many of the words cannot be fixed with precision. -The significance of several fundamental phrases is at -best little more than conjecture. Since it was penned -men's minds have grown and changed. The very -moulds of human thought have altered. Current -impressions, conceptions, ideas are different. It is -hard to determine, with even probability, what is said, -still harder to realise what was thought. Certainty is -impossible. No rendering should be counted infallible, -not even our own. Every interpretation ought to be -advanced with modest diffidence, held tentatively, revised -with alacrity, and adjusted to new facts without -timidity and without shame. This has not been the -characteristic attitude of commentators. The exegesis -of the 1st chapter of Genesis presents a long array of -theories, propounded with authority, defended dogmatically, -and ignominiously discredited and deserted. Had -a more lowly spirit presided over their inception, maintenance, -and abandonment, the list would perhaps not -have been shorter, but the retrospect would have been -less humiliating. As it is, we can hardly complain of -the sting of satire that lurks in Kepler's recital of Theology's -successive retreats: "In theology we balance -authorities; in philosophy we weigh reasons. A holy -man was Lactantius, who denied that the earth was -round. A holy man was Augustine, who granted the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">{304}</a></span> -rotundity, but denied the antipodes. A holy thing to -me is the Inquisition, which allows the smallness of the -earth, but denies its motion. But more holy to me is -truth. And hence I prove by philosophy that the earth -is round, inhabited on every side, of small size, and in -motion among the stars. And this I do with no disrespect -to the doctors."</p> - -<p>The physical record is also very old. Its story is -carved in a script that is often hardly legible, and set -forth in symbols that are not easy to decipher. The -testimony of the rocks embodies results of creation, but -does not present the actual operations. Effects suggest -processes, but do not disclose their precise measure, -manner, and origination. You may dissect a great -painting into its ultimate lines and elements, and from -the canvas peel off the successive layers of colour, and -duly record their number and order; but when you -have done you have not even touched the essential -secret of its creation. In determining the first origin -of things the limitation of science is absolute, and even -in tracing the subsequent development there is room -for error, ignorance, and diversity of explanation. Of -certainties in scientific theory there are few. For the -most part, all that can be attained is probability, -especially in speculative matters, such as estimates of -time, explanations of formation, and theories of causation. -As in exegesis, so in geology, all hypotheses -ought to be counted merely tentative, maintained with -modesty, and held open at every point to revision and -reconstruction. The necessity of caution and reserve -needs no enforcing for any one who knows the variety -and inconsistency of the phases through which speculative -geology has passed in our own generation. In -this destiny of transitoriness it does but share the lot -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">{305}</a></span> -of all scientific theory. Professor Huxley was once cruel -enough to call attention to the fact that "extinguished -theologians lie about the cradle of every science, as the -strangled snakes beside that of Hercules." The statement -is a graphic, if somewhat ferocious, reminder of -a melancholy fact, and the fate of these trespassing -divines should warn their successors—as the Professor -means it should—not to stray out of their proper pastures. -But has it fared very differently with the mighty men -of science who have essayed to solve the high problems -of existence and to make all mysteries plain? Take -up a history of philosophy, turn over its pages, study -its dreary epitomes of defunct theories, and as you -survey the long array of skeletons tell me, are you not -reminded of the prophet who found himself "set down -in the midst of the valley which was full of dry bones: -and, behold, there were very many in the open valley; -and, lo, they were very dry"?</p> - -<p>If it is human to err, theology and geology have -alike made full proof of their humanity. That in itself -is not their fault, but their misfortune. The pity of it -is that to the actual fact of fallibility they have so often -added the folly of pretended infallibility. The resultant -duty is an attitude of mutual modesty, of reserve in -suspecting contradiction, of patience in demanding an -adjustment, of perseverance in separate and honest research, -of serenity of mind in view of difficulties, coupled -with a quiet expectation of final fitting. The two -accounts are alike trustworthy. They are not necessarily -identical in detail. It is enough that they should -correspond in their essential purport. It may be that -the one is the complement of the other, as soul is to -body—unlike, yet vitally allied. Perchance their harmony -is not that of duplicates, but of counterparts. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">{306}</a></span> -They were made not to overlap like concentric circles, -but to interlock like toothed wheels. In the end, when -partial knowledge has given way to perfect, they will -be seen to correspond, and nothing will be broken but -the premature structures of adjustment with which -men have thought to make them run smoother than -they were meant to do.</p> - -<p>To attempt anew a task that has proved so disastrous, -and is manifestly so difficult, must be admitted to be -bold, if not even foolhardy. But its very desperateness -is its justification. To fall in a forlorn hope is not -ignoble. To miss one's way in threading the labyrinth -of the 1st chapter of Genesis is pardonable, a thing -almost to be expected. If in seeking to escape Scylla -the traveller should fall into Charybdis, no one will be -surprised—not even himself. It is in the most undogmatic -spirit that we wish to put forward our reading -of the chapter. It is presented simply as a possible -rendering. What can be said for it will be said as -forcibly as may be. It is open to objection from -opposite sides. That may be not altogether against it, -since truth is rarely extreme. Difficulties undoubtedly -attach to it, and defects as well. At best it can but -contribute to the ultimate solution. Perchance its -share in the task may be no more than to show by trial -that another way of explanation is impossible. Well, -that too is a service. Every fresh by-way proved -impracticable, and closed to passage, brings us a step -nearer the pathway of achievement. For the loyal -lover of truth it is enough even so to have been made -tributary to the truth.</p> - -<p>The business of a theologian is, in the first instance -at least, with the Scriptural narrative. To estimate its -worth, and determine its relation to science, we must -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">{307}</a></span> -ascertain its design. Criticism of a church-organ, -under the impression that it was meant to do the work -of a steam-engine, would certainly fail to do justice to -the instrument, and the disquisition would not have -much value in itself. Before we exact geology of -Genesis we must inquire whether there is any in it. -If there be none, and if there was never meant to be -any, the demand is as absurd as it would be to require -thorns of a vine and thistles of the fig-tree. Should it -turn out, for instance, that the order of the narrative is -intentionally not chronological, then every attempt to -reconcile it with the geological order is of necessity a -Procrustean cruelty, and the venerable form of Genesis -is fitted to the geological couch at the cost of its head -or its feet. Either the natural sense of the chapter is -sacrificed or the pruned narrative goes on crutches. If -we would deal fairly and rationally with the Bible -account of creation, our first duty is to determine with -exactness what it purposes to tell, and what it does -not profess to relate. We must settle with precision, -at the outset of our investigation, what is its subject, -method, and intention. The answer is to be found, -not in <i>à priori</i> theories of what the contents ought to -be, but in an accurate and honest analysis of the -chapter.</p> - -<p>The narrative of creation is marked by an exquisite -symmetry of thought and style. It is partly produced -by the regular use of certain rubrical phrases, which -recur with the rhythmical effect of a refrain. There is -the terminal of the days—"and there was evening, and -there was morning, day one," etc.; the embodiment of -the Divine creative will in the eightfold "God said;" -the expression of instant fulfilment in the swift responsive -"and it was so;" and the declaration of perfection -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">{308}</a></span> -in the "God saw that it was good." But the symmetry -of the chapter lies deeper than the wording. It pervades -the entire construction of the narrative. As the -story proceeds there is expansion, variety, progression. -Yet each successive paragraph is built up on one and -the same type and model. This uniformity is rooted -in the essential structure of the thought, and is due to -the determination with which one grand truth is carried -like a key-note through all the sequences of the theme, -and rings out clear and dominant in every step and -stage of the development. Our first duty is to follow, -and find out with certainty, this ruling purpose, and -then to interpret the subordinate elements by its light -and guidance.</p> - -<p>The narrative distributes the operation of creation -over six days, and divides it into eight distinct acts -or deeds. This double divergent arrangement of the -material is made to harmonise by the assignment of a -couple of acts to the third day, and another couple to -the sixth—in each case with a fine and designed effect. -We shall take a bird's-eye view of the contents of these -divisions.</p> - -<p>The chapter opens with a picture of primeval chaos, -out of which God commands the universe of beauty, -life, and order. Nothing is said of its origin. The -story starts with it existent. It is painted as an abyss, -dreary and boundless, wrapped in impenetrable darkness, -an inextricable confusion of fluid matter, destitute -of character, structure, or value, without form and void. -It is the raw material of the universe, passive and -powerless in itself, but holding in it the promise and -potency of all existence. For over it nestles, like a -brood fowl, the informing, warming, life-giving Spirit -of God, sending through its coldness and emptiness -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">{309}</a></span> -the heat and parental yearnings of the Divine heart, -that craves for creatures on which to pour out its love -and goodness. This action of the Spirit is, however, -no more than preparative, and waits its completion in -the accession of a personal fiat of God's will, in which -the Divine Word gives effect and reality to the Divine -Wish. This is a feature of supreme importance, for -in it consists the uniqueness of the Bible narrative. In -the Pagan accounts of creation we find the same general -imagery of dull, dead matter, stirred and warmed into -life and development by the action of an immaterial -effluence of "thought," "love," or "longing." But in -them the operation is cosmic, impersonal, often hardly -conscious; in the Bible it is ethical and intensely personal. -In them the language is metaphysical, materialistic, -or pantheistic; here it is moral, human, personal, -to the point of anthropomorphism. They show us -creative forces and processes; the Bible presents to us, -in all His infinite, manifold, and glorious personality, -the thinking, living, loving "God the Father Almighty, -Maker of heaven and earth."</p> - -<p>The result of the first day and the first Divine decree -is the production of light. The old difficulty about the -existence of light before the sun was made, as it was -invented by science, has been by science dispelled. -The theory of light as a mode of motion, which for the -present holds the field, knows no obstacle to the presence -of light in the absence of the sun. But this -harmony is not due to any prescience of modern -science in the writer of Genesis. His idea of light is -not undulatory, and not scientific, but just the simple -popular notion found everywhere in the Bible. Light -is a fine substance, distinct from all others, and it -appears first in the list of creation, as being the first -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">{310}</a></span> -and noblest of the elements that go to make up our -habitable world. The emergence of the light is presented -as instantaneously following the Divine decree. -That is manifestly the literary effect designed in the -curtness of the sequence, "Let there be light, and -there was light." The light is pronounced good, is -permanently established in possession of its special -properties and powers, and is set in its service of the -world and man by having assigned to it its place in the -"alternate mercy of day and night." There is a very -fine touch in the position of the declaration of goodness. -It stands here earlier than in the succeeding sections. -Darkness is in the Bible the standing emblem of evil. -It would have been discordant with that imagery to -make God pronounce it good, though as the foil of -light it serves beneficent ends. The jarring note is -tacitly and simply avoided by introducing the assertion -of the goodness of light before the mention of its -background and negation, darkness. The picture of -the first day of creation is subscribed with the formula -of completeness—"There was evening, and there was -morning, one day," or "day first"—and has for its -net result the production of the element or sphere of -light.</p> - -<p>The second day and the second Divine decree are -devoted to the formation of the firmament. All through -the Old Testament the sky is pictured as a solid dome -or vaulted roof, above which roll the primeval waters -of chaos. The notion is of course popular, a figment -of the primitive imagination, and quite at variance with -the modern conception of space filled by an interastral -ether; though it is well to remember that this same -ether is no more ascertained fact than was the old-world -firmament, and is in its turn simply an invention -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">{311}</a></span> -of the scientific imagination. It is of more moment to -note that the real motive and outcome of the day's work -is not the firmament. That is not an end, but a means, -precisely as a sea-wall is not an object in itself, but -merely the instrument of the reclamation of valuable -land. What the erection of the firmament does towards -the making of our world is the production of the intervening -aërial space and the lower expanse of terrestrial -waters. Since this last portion of the work is not -complete prior to the separation of the dry land, the -declaration of goodness or perfection is, with exquisite -fineness of suggestion, tacitly omitted. The net result -of the day is, therefore, the formation of the realms of -air and water as elements or spheres of existence.</p> - -<p>The third day includes two works—the production of -the solid ground, and of vegetation. The dead, inert -soil, and its manifold outgrowth of plant life, are strikingly -distinct, and yet most intimately related. Together -they make up the habitable earth. They are -therefore presented as separate works, but conjoined -in the framework of one day. Two sections of the -vegetable kingdom are singled out for special mention—the -cereals and the fruit-trees. It is not a complete -or a botanical classification, and manifestly science is -not contemplated. Those divisions of the plant-world -that sustain animal and human life, and minister to its -enjoyment, are drawn out into pictorial relief and prominence. -The intention is practical, popular, and -religious. The net result of the day is the production -of the habitable dry land.</p> - -<p>The fourth day and the fifth decree call into being -the celestial bodies—the sun, moon, and stars. They -are called luminaries; that is to say, not masses or -accumulations of light, but managers and distributers -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">{312}</a></span> -of light, and the value of this function of theirs, for the -religious and secular calendar, for agriculture, navigation, -and the daily life of men, is formally and elaborately -detailed. Were this account of the heavenly -bodies intended as a scientific or exhaustive statement -of their Divine destination and place in the universe, it -would be miserably inadequate and erroneous. But if -the whole aim of the narrative be not science, but -religion, then it is absolutely appropriate, exact, and -powerful. In the teeth of an all but universal worship -of sun, moon, and stars, it declares them the manufacture -of God, and the ministers and servants of man. -For this practical religious purpose the geocentric -description of them is not an accident, but essential. -It is not a blunder, but a merit. It is true piety, not -cosmical astronomy, that is being established. In the -words of Calvin, "Moses, speaking to us by the Holy -Spirit, did not treat of the heavenly luminaries as an -astronomer, but as it became a theologian, having -regard to us rather than to the stars." The net result -of the fourth day is the production of the heavenly orbs -of light.</p> - -<p>The fifth day and the sixth work issue in the production -of birds and fishes, or, more accurately, all -creatures that fly or swim. It is evidently a classification -by the eye—the ordinary popular division—and it -makes no attempt at scientific pretension or profundity. -As having conscious life, these new creatures of God's -love are blessed by Him, and have their place and -purpose in the order of being defined and established. -The net result of the day is the formation of fowls and -fishes.</p> - -<p>The sixth day, like the third, includes two works—the -land animals and man. The representation admirably -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">{313}</a></span> -expresses their intimate relationship, and yet -essential distinction. The animals are graphically divided -into the domestic quadrupeds, the small creatures -that creep and crawl, and the wild beasts of the -field. The classification is as little scientific in intention -or substance as is the general arrangement into -birds, fishes, and beasts, which of course traverses -radically alike the historical order of palæontology and -the physiological grouping of zoology. The narrative -simply adopts the natural grouping of observation and -popular speech, because that suffices, and best suits its -purpose. With a wonderful simplicity, yet with consummate -effect, man is portrayed as the climax and -crown of creation. Made in the image and likeness of -God, he is clothed with sovereign might and dominion -over all the elements and contents of Nature. The -personal, conscious counterpart and child of God, he -stands at the other end of the chain of creation, and -with answering intelligence and love looks back adoringly -to his great Father in the heavens. Mention is -made of lesser matters, such as sex and food; but -manifestly the supreme interest of the delineation is -ethical and religious. Science is no more contemplated -as an ingredient in the conception than prose is in -poetry. With the making of man the circle of creation -is complete, and the finished perfection of the whole, as -well as the parts, is expressed in the superlative declaration -that "God saw everything that He had made, and, -behold, it was very good." The net result of the sixth -day is the formation of the land animals and man.</p> - -<p>The six days of creative activity are followed by a -seventh of Divine repose. On the seventh day God -rested; or, as it is more fully worded in Exodus -(xxxi. 17), God "rested and was refreshed." It is a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">{314}</a></span> -daring anthropomorphism, and at the same time a -master-stroke of inspired genius. What a philosophical -dissertation hardly could accomplish it achieves by -one simple image. For our thought of God the idea -performs the same service as the institution of the -Sabbath does for our souls and bodies. The weekly -day of rest is the salvation of our personality from -enslavement in material toil. During six days the -toiler is tied, bent and bowed, to his post in the vast -machinery of the world's work. On the seventh all is -stopped, and he is free to lift himself erect to the full -stature of his manhood, to expand the loftier elements -of his being, to reassert his freedom, and realise -his superiority over what is mechanical, secular, and -earthly. What in the progressive portraiture of creation -is the effect of this sudden declaration that the -Creator rested? Why, an intensely powerful reminder -of the free, conscious, and personal nature of His -action. And this impression of such unique value is -secured precisely by the anthropomorphism, as no -philosophical disquisition could have done it. The blot -and blemish of all metaphysical delineation is that -personalities get obliterated and swallowed up in -general principles and impersonal abstractions. In all -other cosmogonies of any intellectual pretension the -process of creation is presented as passive, or Necessitarian, -or Pantheistic, and invariably the free personality -of the Creator becomes entangled in His work, or -entirely vanishes. By this stroke of inspired imagination -the Bible story rescues from all such risks and -degradations our thought of the Creator, and at its -close leaves us face to face with our Divine Maker as -free, personal, living, loving, and conscious as we are -ourselves.</p> - -<div class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">{315}</a></div> - -<p>We have now got what is, I trust, a fairly accurate -and complete summary of the contents of the narrative. -It is not necessary for our purpose to discuss its -relations to the Pagan cosmogonies. From the sameness -everywhere of the human eye, mind, and fancy, -certain conceptions are common property. There is -probably a special kinship between the Biblical and -the Babylonian and Phœnician accounts. But with -all respect for enthusiastic decipherers, we make bold -to believe, with more sober-minded critics, that the -1st chapter of Genesis owes very little to Babylonian -mythology, and very much indeed to Hebrew thought -and the revealing Spirit of God. The chapter strikingly -lacks the characteristic marks of myth, and is on the -face of it a masterpiece of exquisite artistic workmanship -and profound religious inspiration. Proof of this -has appeared in plenty during our brief study of its -structure and contents. Let us proceed to use the -results of our analysis to determine some more general -characteristics of its structure and design.</p> - -<p>The process of creation is portrayed in six great -steps or stages. Is this order put forward as corresponding -with the physical course of events? and, -further, does it tally with the order stamped in the -record of the rocks? Replying to the second question -first, it must be admitted that, <i>primâ facie</i>, the Bible -sequence does not appear to be in unison with the -geological. Of attempted reconciliations there is an -almost endless variety, but, unfortunately, among the -harmonies themselves there is no harmony. At the -present moment there is none that has gained general -acceptance: a few possess each the allegiance of a -handful of partisans; the greater number command the -confidence only of their respective authors, and some -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">{316}</a></span> -not even that. It is needless to discuss these reconciliations, -because if geology is trustworthy in its main -results, and if our interpretation of the meaning of -Genesis is at all correct, correspondence in order and -detail is impossible. If the order of Genesis was meant -as science, then geology and Genesis are at issue; but, -on the other hand, if the sequence in Genesis was never -meant to be physical the wrong lies with ourselves, -who have searched for geology where we should have -looked for religion, and have, with the best intentions, -persisted in trying to turn the Bible bread of life into -the arid stone of science. Now, we venture to suggest -that in drafting this chapter the ruling formative thought -was not chronology. It must be remembered that the -narrative was under no obligation to follow the order of -actual occurrence, unless that best suited its purpose. -Zoology does not group the animals in the order of -their emergence into existence, but classifies and discusses -them in a very different sequence, adopted to -exhibit their structural and functional affinities. If the -design of Genesis was not to inform us about historical -geology, but to reveal and enforce religious truth, it -might well be that a literary or a logical, and not a -chronological, arrangement might best serve its end. -As a matter of fact, the order chosen is not primarily -historical. Another quite different and very beautiful -idea has fashioned, and is enshrined in, the arrangement. -Looking at our analysis of their contents, we -perceive that the six days fall into two parallel sets of -three, whose members finely correspond. The first set -presents us with three vast empty tenements or habitations, -and the second set furnishes these with occupants. -The first day gives us the sphere of light; the fourth -day tenants it with sun, moon, and stars. The second -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">{317}</a></span> -day presents the realm of air and water; the fifth day -supplies the inhabitants—birds and fishes. The third -day produces the habitable dry land; and the sixth day -stocks it with the animals and man. The idea of this -arrangement is, on the face of it, literary and logical. -It is chosen for its comprehensive, all-inclusive completeness. -To declare of every part and atom of -Nature that it is the making of God, the author passes -in procession the great elements or spheres which the -human mind everywhere conceives as making up our -world, and pronounces them one by one God's creation. -Then he makes an inventory of their entire furniture -and contents, and asserts that all these likewise are the -work of God. For his purpose—which is to declare -the universal Creatorship of God and the uniform -creaturehood of all Nature—the order and classification -are unsurpassed and unsurpassable. With a masterly -survey, that marks everything and omits nothing, he -sweeps the whole category of created existence, collects -the scattered leaves into six congruous groups, -encloses each in a compact and uniform binding, and -then on the back of the numbered and ordered volumes -stamps the great title and declaration that they are one -and all, in every jot, and tittle, and shred, and fragment, -the works of their Almighty Author, and of none -beside.</p> - -<p>With the figment of a supposed physical order -vanishes also the difficulty of the days. Their use is -not literal, but ideal and pictorial. That the author -was not thinking of actual days of twenty-four hours, -with a matter-of-fact dawning of morning and darkening -of evening, is evident from the fact that he does not -bring the sun (the lord of the day) into action till three -have already elapsed, and later on he exhibits the sun -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">{318}</a></span> -as itself the product of one of them. Neither is it -possible that the days stand for geological epochs, for -by no wrenching and racking can they be made to -correspond. Moreover, it is quite certain that the -author would have revolted against the expansion of his -timeless acts of creative omnipotence into long ages of -slow evolution, since the key-note of the literary significance -and sublimity of his delineation is its exhibition -of the created result following in instantaneous sequence -on the creative fiat. The actual meaning underlying -the use of the days is suggested in the rubrical character -of the refrain, as it appears rounding off and -ending each fresh stage of the narration—"And there -was evening, and there was morning—day one, day two, -day three," and so on. The great sections of Nature -are to be made pass in a panorama of pictures, and to -be presented, each for itself, as the distinct act of God. -It is desirable to enclose each of these pictures in a -frame, clear-cut and complete. The natural unit and -division of human toil is a day. In the words of the -poet—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse quote2">"Each morning sees some task begin;</div> -<div class="verse">Each evening sees it close."</div> -</div> - -</div> -</div> - -<p>In Old Testament parlance, any great achievement or -outstanding event is spoken of as "a day." A decisive -battle is known as "the day of Midian." God's intervention -in human history is "the day of the Lord." -When the author of Genesis i. would present the -several elements of Nature as one and all the outcome -of God's creative energy, the successive links of the -chain are depicted as days. Where we should say -"End of Part I.," he says, "And there was evening, and -there was morning—day one." Moreover, it is needless -to point out how finely, from this presentation of the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">{319}</a></span> -timeless fiats of creation in a framework of days, -emerges the majestic truth that not in the dead order -of nature, nor in the mere movement of the stars, but -in the nature and will of God, Who made man in His -image, must be sought the ultimate origin, sanction, and -archetype of that salutary law which divides man's life -on earth into fixed periods of toil, rounded and crowned -by a Sabbath of repose.</p> - -<p>If this understanding of the structural arrangement -of the chapter be correct, we have reached an important -and significant conclusion regarding the author's method -and design. He does not suppose himself to be giving -the matter-of-fact sequence of creation's stages. His -interest does not lie in that direction. His sole concern -is to declare that Nature, in bulk and in detail, is the -manufacture of God. His plan does not include, but -<i>ipso facto</i> excludes, conformity with the material order -and process. He writes as a theologian, and not as a -scientist or historian. Starting from this fixed point, -let us note the outstanding features and engrossing -interests of his delineation. We shall find them in the -phrases that, like a refrain, run through the narrative -and form its key-notes, and finally in the resultant -impression left by its general tenour and purport.</p> - -<p>The recurrent key-notes of the narrative are three—God's -naming His works, His declaration of their goodness, -and the swift formula of achievement—"and it was -so." The naming is not a childish triviality, nor a mere -graphic touch or poetical ornament. It does not mean -that God attached to His works the vocables by which -in Hebrew they are known. Its significance appears in -the definition of function into which in the later episodes -it is expanded. Name in Hebrew speech is equivalent -to Nature. When the story pictures God as naming -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">{320}</a></span> -His works, it vividly brings into relief the fixed law -and order that pervade the universe. And by the -picturesque—if you will, anthropomorphic—fashion of -the statement, it attains an effect beyond science or -metaphysics, inasmuch as it irresistibly portrays this -order of Nature as originating in the personal act of -God, and directly inspired by and informed with His -own effluent love of what is good, and true, and orderly. -Thus the great truth of the fixity of Nature is presented, -not as a fact of science or a quality of matter, but as -rooted in and reflecting a majestic attribute of the -character of God. The interest is not scientific, but -religious. In like fashion, the unfailing declaration of -goodness, though it might seem a small detail, is replete -with practical and religious significance. The Pagan -doctrines of creation are all more or less contaminated -by dualistic or Manichean conceptions. The good -Creator is baffled, thwarted, and impeded by a brutish -or malignant tendency in matter, which on the one hand -mars the perfection of creation, and on the other hand -inserts in the physical order of things elements of -hostility and malevolence to man. It is a thought that -at once degrades the Creator, and denudes Nature, -as man's abode, of its beauty, comfort, and kindliness. -How different is it in the Bible picture of creation! -This God has outside Himself no rival, experiences -no resistance nor contradiction, knows no failure nor -imperfection in His handiwork; but what He wishes -He wills, and what He commands is done, and the -result answers absolutely to the intention of His wisdom, -love, and power. In its relation to its Maker the work -is free from any flaw. In its relation to man it contains -nothing malevolent or maleficent. It is good. And -once again, mark with what skill in the delineation the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">{321}</a></span> -light is thrown, not on the work, but on the Worker, -and the goodness of creation becomes but a mirror to -drink in and flash forth the infinite wisdom, might, and -goodness of its Divine Maker. Here also the interest -is not metaphysical, but practical and religious. A third -commanding aim of the narrative appears in the significant -and striking use of the formula "and it was so." -With absolute uniformity the Divine fiat is immediately -followed by the physical fulfilment. There is no painting -of the process, no delineation of slow and gradual -operations of material forces. Not once is there any -mention of secondary causes, nor the faintest suggestion -of intermediate agencies. The Creator wills; the thing -is. In this exclusion from the scene of all subordinate -studies there is artistic design—profound design. The -picture becomes one, not of scenery, but of action. It -is not a landscape, but a portrait. The canvas contains -but two solitary objects, the Creator and His work. -The effect is to throw out of sight methods, materials, -processes, and to throw into intense relief the act and -the Actor. And the supreme and ultimate result on -the beholder's mind is to produce a quite overpowering -and majestic impression of the glorious personality of -the Creator.</p> - -<p>Here we have reached the sovereign theme of the -narrative, and have detected the false note that is struck -at the outset of every attempt to interpret it as in -any degree or fashion a physical record of creation. In -very deed and truth the concern of the chapter is not -creation, but the character, being, and glory of the -Almighty Maker. If we excerpt God's speeches and -the rubrical formulas, the chapter consists of one continuous -chain of verbs, instinct with life and motion, -linked on in swift succession, and with hardly an -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">{322}</a></span> -exception, the subject of every one of them is God. It -is one long adoring delineation of God loving, yearning, -willing, working in creation. Its interest is not in the -work, but the Worker. Its subject is not creation, but -the Creator. What it gives is not a world, but a God. -It is not geology; it is theology.</p> - -<p>Why do we so assert, accentuate, and reiterate this to -be the central theme of the chapter? Because through -the scientific trend and bias of modern inquiry the essential -design of the chapter has got warped, cramped, and -twisted till its majestic features have been pushed almost -clean out of view, and all attention is concentrated -on one trivial, mean, and unreal point in its physiognomy. -Its claim to be accounted an integral part of -a real revelation is made to hinge on its magical -anticipation of, and detailed correspondence with, the -changeful theories of modern geology. The idea is, -in our humble but decided opinion, dangerous, baseless, -and indefensible. The chapter may not forestall -one single scientific discovery. It may not tally with -one axiom or dogma of geology. Nevertheless, it -remains a unique, undeniable, and glorious monument -of revelation, second only in worth and splendour to -the record of God's incarnation of His whole heart -and being in the person of Jesus Christ, our Lord and -Redeemer. Consider what this chapter has actually -accomplished in the world, and set that against all -theories of what it ought to be doing. For our knowledge -of the true God and the realisation of mankind's -higher life it has done a work beside which any question -of correspondence or non-correspondence with science -sinks into unmentionable insignificance. Place side by -side with it the chiefest and best of the Pagan cosmogonies, -and appreciate its sweetness, purity, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">{323}</a></span> -elevation over against their grotesqueness, their shallowness, -and their degradation alike of the human and the -Divine. Realise the world whose darkness they re-echo, -the world into which emerged this radiant picture -of God's glory and man's dignity, and think what it -has done for that poor world. It found heaven filled -with a horde of gods, monstrous, impure, and horrible, -gigantic embodiments of brute force and lust, or at -best cold abstractions of cosmical principles, whom -men could fear, but not love, honour, or revere. It -found man in a world dark and unhomelike, bowing -down in abject worship to beasts and birds, and stocks -and stones, trembling with craven cowardice before the -elements and forces of Nature, enslaved in a degrading -bondage of physical superstition, fetishism, and polytheism. -With one sweep of inspired might the truth -enshrined in this chapter has changed all that, wherever -it has come. It has cleansed the heaven of those foul -gods and monstrous worships, and leaves men on -bended knees in the presence of the one true God, -their Father in heaven, who made the world for their -use, and them for Himself, and whose tender mercies -are over all His works. From moral and mental -slavery it has emancipated man, for it has taken the -physical objects of his fear and worship, and dashing -them down from their usurped pre-eminence, has put -them all under his feet, to be his ministers and servants -in working out on earth his eternal destiny. These -conceptions of God, Man, and Nature have been the -regeneration of humanity; the springs of progress in -science, invention, and civilisation; the charter of the -dignity of human life, and the foundation of liberty, -virtue, and religion. The man who, in view of such -a record, can ask with anxious concern whether a revelation -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">{324}</a></span> -carrying in its bosom such a wealth of heavenly -truth does not also have concealed in its shoe a bird's-eye -view of geology must surely be a man blind to all -literary likelihood, destitute of any sense of congruity -and the general fitness of things, and cannot but seem -to us as one that mocks. The chapter's title to be -reckoned a revelation rests on no such magical and -recondite quality, but is stamped four-square on the -face of its essential character and contents. Whence -could this absolutely unique conception of God, in His -relation to the world and man, have been derived, -except from God Himself? Whence into a world so -dark, and void, and formless did it emerge fair and -radiant? There is no answer but one. God said, -"Let there be light; and there was light."</p> - -<p>The specific revelation of the 1st chapter of Genesis -must be sought in its moral and spiritual contents. -But may there not be, in addition, worked into its -material framework, some anticipation of scientific -truths that have since come to light? What were -the good of it, when the Divine message could be -wholly and better expressed by the sole use of popular -language, intelligible in every age and by all classes? -Is it dignified to depict the Spirit of Inspiration standing -on tiptoe, and straining to speak, across the long millenniums -and over the head of the world's childhood, to -the wise and learned scientists of the nineteenth -century? It is never the manner of Scripture to -anticipate natural research or to forestall human industry. -God means men to discover physical truth -from the great book of Nature. What truth of science, -what mechanical invention, what beneficent discovery -in medicine, agriculture, navigation, or any other art -or industry, has ever been gleaned from study of the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">{325}</a></span> -Bible? Not one. These things lie outside the scope -of revelation, and God is the God of order. Moreover, -in Scripture itself the framework of the chapter is not -counted dogmatic nor uniformly adhered to. In the -2nd chapter of Genesis, in Job, in the Psalms, and -in Proverbs there are manifold deviations and variations. -The material setting is handled with the freedom -applicable to the pictorial dress of a parable, wherein -things transcendental are depicted in earthly symbols. -In truth, this is essentially the character of the composition. -We have seen that the delineation, classification, -and arrangement are not scientific and not -philosophical, but popular, practical, and religious. It -is everywhere manifest that the interest is not in the -process of creation, but in the fact of its origination in -God. While science lingers on the physical operation, -Genesis designedly overleaps it, for the same reason -that the Gospels do not deign to suggest the material -substratum of Christ's miracles. Creation is a composite -process. It begins in the spiritual world, and -terminates in the material. It is in its first stage -supernatural, in its second natural. It originates in -God desiring, decreeing, issuing formative force; it -proceeds in matter moving, cohering, moulding, and -shaping. Revelation and science regard it from opposite -ends. The one looks at it from its beginning, the -other from its termination. The Bible shows us God -creating; geology shows us the world being created. -Scripture deals solely with the first stage, science solely -with the second. Where Scripture stops, there science -first begins. Contradiction, conflict, collision are impossible. -In the words of the Duke of Argyll, "The -1st chapter of Genesis stands alone among the traditions -of mankind in the wonderful simplicity and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">{326}</a></span> -grandeur of its words. Specially remarkable—miraculous, -it really seems to me—is that character of reserve -which leaves open to reason all that reason may be -able to attain. The meaning of these words seems -always to be a meaning ahead of science, not because -it anticipates the results of science, but because it is -independent of them, and runs, as it were, round the -outer margin of all possible discovery."</p> - -<p>May we not safely extend this finding to the entire -Bible, and on these lines define its relation to modern -thought? Its supernatural revelation is purely and -absolutely ethical and spiritual. In questions physical -and metaphysical it has no concern and utters no voice. -With the achievements of science it never competes, -nor can it be contradicted by them. It encourages its -researches, ennobles its aspirations, crowns and completes -its discoveries. Into the dead body of physical -truth it puts the living soul of faith in the Divine -Author. Like the blue heaven surrounding and spanning -over the green earth, revelation over-arches and -encircles science. Within that infinite embrace, beneath -that spacious dome, drawing from its azure depths -light, and life, and fructifying warmth, science, unhampered -and unhindered, works out its majestic mission of -blessing to men and glory to God. Collision there can -be none till the earth strike the sky. The message of -the Bible is a message from God's heart to ours. It -cannot be proved by reason, nor can it be disproved. -It appeals, not to sight, but to faith, and belongs to the -realm of spirit, and not to that of sense. Science may -have much to alter in our notions of its earthly embodiment, -but its essential contents it cannot touch.</p> - -<p>That is not theory, but reality. It is not philosophy, -but life; not flesh, but spirit. It is the living, breathing, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">{327}</a></span> -feeling love of God become articulate. It needs no -evidence of sense. In the immutable instincts of the -human heart it has its attestation, and in a life of -responsive love it finds an unfailing verification. It -rests on a basis no sane criticism can undermine nor -solid science shake. Happy the man whose faith has -found this fixed foundation, and whose heart possesses -this adamantine certainty: he shall be likened "unto -a wise man, which built his house upon a rock: and -the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds -blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell not: for it -was founded upon a rock."</p> - -<p class="center small">Printed by Hazell, Watson, & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury.</p> - -<div class="box"> - -<p class="center small"><i>In 8vo, with Etched Portrait by Manesse. Price 12s.</i></p> - -<h2>JAMES MACDONELL,<br /><small>JOURNALIST</small>.</h2> - -<p class="center">By W. ROBERTSON NICOLL, M.A., LL.D.</p> - -<hr /> - -<h3>Daily Telegraph.</h3> - -<p>"Sincere, sympathetic, loyal, and artistic.... This masterly -monograph."</p> - -<h3>Graphic.</h3> - -<p>"James Macdonell was one of the most accomplished and brilliant -journalists of the day.... We have a full record of Macdonell's -life, and it forms one of the most interesting of recent books of -biography."</p> - -<h3>Academy.</h3> - -<p>"An admirable portrait, ... so carefully and so judiciously -written that the example it sets is likely to be followed."</p> - -<h3>Scotsman.</h3> - -<p>"An admirably written life."</p> - -<h3>Star.</h3> - -<p>"The story is told by Mr. Nicoll with admirable perfection and -a real sense of the value of such a record."</p> - -<h3>Church Times.</h3> - -<p>"The biographer has performed his task with eminent success."</p> - -<h3>Pall Mall Gazette.</h3> - -<p>"In many ways an attractive biography."</p> - -<h3>Spectator.</h3> - -<p>"Interesting and valuable."</p> - -<h3>Guardian.</h3> - -<p>"We are likely to have, for some time to come, no more light -thrown upon the mysteries of the 'leading journal' than there is -given in this account of James Macdonell.... The life of him -which Mr. Nicoll has given to the world is full of interest, and we -lay it down with sincere regret for the brilliant career which was -cut short midway."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="center small"><span class="smc">London</span>: HODDER & -STOUGHTON, <span class="smc">27, Paternoster Row</span>.</p> - -</div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Professor W. G. Elmslie, D.D.:Memoir -and Sermons, by William Gray Elmslie - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK W. G. 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