Consolation, in discourses on select topics, addressed to the suffering people of God

HISTORICAL SOCirrv

Pfi£SENr£0 BY

CONSOLATION:

IN

DISCOURSES ON SELECT TOPICS, ADDRESSED
TO THE SUFFERING PEOPLE OF GOD.

BY

JAMES W. ALEXANDER, D. D.

SECOND EDITION.

NEW-YORK:
CHARLES SCRIBNER, 145 NASSAU STREET.

MDCCCLIII.

>

Entered, according to Act of Congi-ess, in the year 1852, by

CHAELES SCEIBNEE,

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the

Southern District of New- York.

CONTENTS

PA.GE

Preface ........ 7

I.

God's Everlasting Mercy a sotjkce of Consolation 11

11.

The Providence of God a ground of Consolation . 35

III.

The same Subject in its Application to the whole

Path of Life 59

IV.

The 0:mNipotence of God a ground of enlarged

Christian Expectation 85

CONTENTS.

PAGE

The Goodness of God a Refuge m time of Teouble 109

The Soul sustained by Hope kising to Assueance . 133

vn.

Rest in God 157

VIII.

Christian Joy expelling the Distresses of the Soul 181

IX.

Consolation derived from the Uses of Chastisement 211

X.

The Holy Submission of Christ's Will considered as

A SOURCE OF Consolation .... 239

XI.

Consolation from God's Promise never to forsake 259

xn.

The Believer sustained by the Strength of Christ 279

CONTENTS. 5

xm.

PAGE

The Compassion of Christ to the Weak, the Sor-

eo^ving, and the sinetjl .... 299

xiy.

Consolation under the Judgments of Men . . 321

xy.

Consolation derived from a Review of Christian

Martyrdom 343

XYI.
The Aged Believer consoled by God's Promise . 367

XVII.
Consolation in regard to the Saints Departed . 389

XVIII.
All Consolation traced up to its Divine Source . 423

PREFACE.

T) EASONS miglit be given, if it were seemly and
important, wliy tlie mind of the writer has been
strongly drawn towards this particular subject. It
is, however, sufficient to say, that in the course of a
ministry which now oversteps the quarter of a cen-
tury, he has, like his brethren, often felt it to be his
obligation and pleasure to attempt the work of com-
forting sufferers. One of the facilities afforded to
the gospel by the press is, that it enables the preacher
to extend his voice, according to his measure of
ability, beyond the walls of his own church ; and it
is natural, and will perhaps be thought pardonable,
that he should desire this increase of influence and
fruitfulness. Of the discourses contained in this
volume, some are for substance the same which have
been pronounced from the pulpit, and others have
been written expressly for publication.

O PEEFACE.

The whole of Divine Truth may, in a certain
aspect of it, be regarded as matter of comfort to
Christian discij)les. Even in a more restricted view,
the range of subjects which are consolatory in their
nature is very extensive. Only a selection, therefore,
of these has been attempted in the present instance,
and no expectation must be indulged that the volume
now offered will contain either, on one hand, an
exhaustive analysis of the Spirit's work as a Com-
forter, or, on the other, a detail of all the particular
circumstances of life in which consolation may be
needed.

If any should be surprised at the large amount
of doctrinal discussion, he will probably acquiesce
in the reasonableness of such a method, on consider-
ing that true evangelical comfort is little promoted
by mere hortatory address. If the exhortation con-
tains no solid matter of doctrinal truth, it will avail
little for the end proposed. We do not reach the
case of the disheartened by commanding or implor-
ing him to be of good cheer, but by setting before
his mind those great everlasting truths, the accepta-
tion of which lays the basis for joy and peace. Such
are the glorious attributes of God, his wonderful
providence, his covenant of grace, his magazine of

PEEFACE.

precious promises, and his rewards of heavenly bliss.
In discussing the attributes and the providence of
God, it is not possible to avoid some truths which are
subjects of controversy among Christians ; and the
writer has not sought to disguise his views on these
articles by omission or compromise.

Delightful as is the work of administering the
cordials of grace to God's suffering people, it is to
be performed with a discerning hand ; and he that
" speaketh unto men to edification, and exhortation,
and comfort," must beware how he cries. Peace,
peace, when there is no peace. This may account:
for the frequency with which consolation is here
intermingled with warning and rebuke. If the book
should find any favour with persons as yet unre-
newed in the spirit of their minds, it will not be the
less profitable for these occasional attempts to arouse
the benumbed conscience.

But, after all, this is a book for afilicted believ-
ers, and to such it is affectionately dedicated. If it
shall soothe the rufiled spirit of the careworn disci-
ple, or assuage the grief of the bereaved, or brighten
the chamber of illness, or add a drop of balm to the
cup of old age, the writer will be more than repaid

10 PEEFACE.

for the pains which he has bestowed upon it. That
this may be the case, and that the humble effort
may be owned of God to the refreshment and sup-
port of the afflicted, is the prayer with which it is
now surrendered to the public.

New-York Nov. 18 1852.

GOD'S EVEELASTING MEECY A SOUEGE
OF CONSOLATION.

I.

WHEN, amidst tlie sorrows of life, we look
abroad in quest of consolation, we find none
real and permanent till we resort to God himself;
and our most complete solace is tliat wMcIi founds
itself at once on some divine attribute. Especially
is tlie mercy of God, in its large Old Testament ac-
ceptation, a cause of relief and liope in times of
distress. Ancient Israel found it so, and lience
there is no topic wMch more frequently awakens
tlie j)raises of psalmists and prophets. It is fitted,
therefore, to lead the way in a volume which seeks
to furnish suffering Christians with topics of conso-
lation.

When David had found a place for the ark, the
august and fearful emblem and centre of their reli-
gion, the people accompanied with " shouting, and
with sound of the cornet, and with trumpets, and
with cymbals, making a noise with psalteries and
harps." Perhaps we have gone too far in hushing all
the more festive outbreaks of popular joy. On this
great occasion, the royal poet delivered into the
hand of the chief musician the lyric effusion since
known as the one hundred and fifth psalm ; and

14 CONSOLATION.

towards the conclusion of a sublime and glowing
ascription we first meet witli tliese words, " O give
thanks unto the Lord, for he is good, for his mercy
endureth for ever." And among the appointments,
we read that Heman, Jeduthun, and their compa-
nions were designated to give thanks to the Lord,
because his mercy endureth for ever. It seems to
have been taken as the established formula of praise,
especially within the courts of the Lord. When the
ark of Jehovah no longer dwelt within the curtains,
and Solomon had builded a house to the Lord, and
assembled the people for its dedication, the record is
remarkable. " And it came to pass, when the priests
were, come out of the holy place, as the trumpeters
and singers were as one, to make one sound to be
heard in praising and thanking the Lord ; and when
they lifted up their voice with the trumpets, and
cymbals, and instruments of music, and praised the
Lord, sa^ang. For he is good, for his mercy endm^eth
for ever ; that then the house was filled with a cloud,
even the house of the Lord, so that the priests could
not stand to minister, by reason of the cloud ; for
the glory of the Lord had filled the house of the
Lord."^-

Nor was the usage forgotten in later times ; for
two hundred years after, in the reign of Jehosh-
aphat, when the eastern nations were threatening
to come down like a whirlwind on Judah, and the
sovereign had called his subjects to humiliation,
and the voice of a prophet had encouraged the host,

* 2 Chron. v. 11-14, vii. §.

god's everlasting mercy. 15

and the Levites had stood up to praise the Lord God
of Israel with a loud voice on high, we are particu-
larly informed that when the king had consulted
with the people, he ajDpointed singers unto the
Lord, that should praise the beauty of holiness, as
they went out before the army, and to say, Praise
the Lord: for Ms mercy enduretli for ever. So like-
wise, passing over nearly three hundred years after
the captivity, when the foundations of the second
temple were laid, amidst the commingling shouts
and weeping of the multitude, " they set the priests
in their apparel with trumpets, and the Levites
the sons of Asaph with cymbals, to praise the Lord,
after the ordinance of David king of Israel; and
they sang together by course, in praising and
giving thanks unto the Lord ; because he is good,
for his mercy endureth for ever towards Israel."
(Ezr. 3 ; 11.) It need not then surprise us, to find
this ascription filling an important place in the book
of sacred song. In the one hundred and thirty-sixth
psalm, it forms the closing part of every vei^e, and
was, doubtless, the chorus which was taken up, with
the glorious reverberation of voices and instruments,
by the multitude of worshijDjDers. I see no reason
why it may not now resound among the heavenly
arches ; why it may not be rehearsed with new glo-
rious meanings in a future world; as reasonable
surely is it to admit it in glowing characters over
the arch which conducts us to the New Testament
Church : His mercy endureth for ever !

This brief sentence comprises thi^ee of the most

16 CONSOLATION.

sublime of all the ideas of reason, viz., tlie idea of
God^ tlie idea of Goodness^ and tlie idea of Eternity,
Let us meditate a little on tliis wonderful conjunc-
tion of luminaries.

I. The idea of God. — Wliile in regard to a mul-
titude, God is not in all their tliouglits, there are
those who feel this divine idea to be the great, ab-
sorbing, ever-delightful object of theii^ contempla-
tion. As light iiTadiates all nature, so the thought
of God difiuses gladness over all the moral world.
The proposition which, above all others, should fill
all intelligent creation with transport, is this, There
IS A God. Conceive of a world without it ; conceive
of a planet, roUing far away in some dark aphelion,
where this prime revelation has never shone, hav-
ing the hght of common day, but no knowledge of
God ; conceive of the poor, blank, cheerless dwell-
ers on this atheistic orb, and then figure to yourself
some beautiful and mighty angel, who has been
thousands of years filling his lamp at the central
founts of hght, dispatched by infinite love, and
speeding to carry these tidings to the ignorant
planet ; who can measure the glory of the advent ?
It is a change hke that when God said to chaos,
Let there be hght ! If in all human knowledge
there is a truth which should transport us beyond
ourselves, it is, that there is a God. The Lord
reigneth, let the earth rejoice ! Without it, we are
a fatherless brood, and our world an orphan uni-
verse. The names of God are names of relation ;
and among the relations, we have found something

god's eveelasting mercy. it

more great, more tender, and more lovely, than
parent, brother, or husband, when we have found a
God. Whether, however, fallen reason would un-
aided have arrived at the idea of God, is made a
question. That the idea, when once revealed, is more
than all others consonant to the faculties ; that it is
more than all others congenial to the soul ; that it
delightfully enters, . pervades, and fills cajDacities
which were otherwise unemployed, must be acknow-
ledged of all. " The invisible things of him, from the
creation of the world, are clearly seen, being under-
stood by the things which are made, even his eter-
nal power and Godhead." And the God thus seen
is the personal, the paternal God of the Scriptures,
and not the blind, ever-changing, ever-developing
impersonality of modern philosophy. To rob the
universe of such a guardian and indwelling glory,
is a capital ofPence against humanity and nature.
Yet false philosophy, and poetry as false, unite to
rob us of the blessed solace ; and an ignorant, undis-
criminating appetite for whatever is new and start-
ling in hterature, makes refined cabinets and draw-
ing-room tables admit the blasphemous atheism of
Shelley, while they would reject the scurrilous im-
piety of Paine or Kneeland. The green and gilded
snake creeps into the closet and the boudoir, and
the modern Eves are tempted to deeper sin against
their native persuasions than she of Eden. Al-
mighty God ! of thine infinite compassion, preserve
our people from the entrance of any speculation
which shall involve the denial of Thee !
2

18 CONSOLATIOJS-.

Atheism deforms all it touches. "It robs tlie
universe,'' says Hall, " of all finished and consum
mate excellence even of idea. The admiration of
perfect wisdom and goodness, for which we are
formed, and which kindles such unspeakable rapture
in the soul, finding in the regions of skepticism
nothing to which it corresponds, droops and lan-
guishes. In a world which presents a fair spectacle
of order and beauty; of a vast family, nourished
and supported by an almighty Parent ; in a world
which leads the devout mind, step by step, to the
contemplation of the first fair and the first good,
the skeptic is encompassed with nothing but obscuri-
ty, meanness, and disorder."

The infant embraces the earliest suggestion of a
God without repugnance, and without effort. When
grown to adult strength, and trained to philosophic
inquiry, he still gazes on this as the grand and only
satisfying object. It should seem that our capa-
cities crave some glorious consummation of the
pyramid of truth, some crowning point, some
declaration of the infinite ; so that the soul without
God is incomplete,— a basin of earth without its
ocean.

As knowledge increases, as our capacities grow,
there is no more comprehension of this vast idea
than there was before : the sun seems no smaller
^nd no less bright as we approach his central resi-
dence. Expand the faculty as we may, to the stand-
ard of the highest seraph, there is still that in God
which shall fill it all. Climb as we may, from Alp

god's eveelasting mercy. 19

to Alp, in our researclies, the vaulted heaven of the
Divine Idea is still above us.

Human science reaches no point where the divine
wisdom has not anticij^ated its march. There is not
a discovery in optics, though the fruit of ages of in-
quiry, concerning which we do not feel authorized
to assert, that the long-latent princij)le was known
before creation, and that God has adapted the lenses
of the eye to light, and light to the lenses of the
eye. The remark may be generalized in its appHca-
tion to every law of physical and moral nature. So
that a knowledge of God would really be the know-
ledge of all things.

I need not go about to show by argument why
the being of God is a cause of rejoicing to the uni-
verse. Other things are drops, but this is the foun-
tain. Other things are transient^ insulated favom^s ;
fragments and atoms of beneficence ; single flowers
of mercy ; single draughts of bliss ; single odours,
wafted from fields of fragrance : but God (let me
speak reverently) is the very atmosphere, all-com-
prehending and all-pervading, in which we live, and
move, and have our being. Therefore, he that glo-
rieth, let him glory in the Lord ! He that would
be joyful, let him be joyful in the Lord ! The book
of Psalms is a chamber of holy voices, echo answer-
ing echo, deep calling unto deep, with the enthusi-
asm and rapture of adoring ecstasy and fearful love.
We do but rehearse here what we shall utter above,
when we call upon all things, silent or vocal, to
praise the name of the Lord. " My meditation of

20 C0NS0LATI01N-.

him shall be sweet. I will be glad in the Lord.
Sing unto him ; sing psalms unto him : talk ye of
all his wondrous works. Praise ye the Lord from
the heavens ; praise him in the heights. Praise ye
him, all his angels; praise ye him, all his hosts.
Praise God in his sanctuary ; praise him in the fir-
mament of his power. Praise the Lord, O Jerusa-
lem ! Praise thy God, O Zion !

These are happy exercises, and he has never be-
gun the course of true felicity, who is still a stranger
to God. These afford the ultimate basis of all con-
solation.

II. Tlie idea of goodness^ in that particular mode
of it which is entitled mercy. In Scripture usage, the
term is not always employed with the nice discrimi-
nation of the schools, but is applied to all the modi-
fications of divine favour to creatures. Yet the
word undoubtedly carries with it some tinge of com-
passion ; it speaks of pity ; it points to tears which
tremble in the eye of infinite love ; it is God look-
ing upon meanness, and wretchedness, and sin. It is
a great idea, and fit to be coujDled with divinity.
Heathen mythology did not contain it. The Scrip-
tures are full of it, and we see the temple praises
were full of it. It is the essential property of God,
whereby he regards the miserable. It is more S23e-
cially the same perfection, viewed as flowing through
its sole channel in the Mediator. The fall, which
rendered mediation necessary, rendered Jesus Christ
the sole dej)ositary of infinite mercy. Not more
truly is the sun the organ and centre of all the

god's everlasting mekcy. 21

light of tlie universe, tlian Jesus Clirist is tlie
organ and centre of all mercy for men. He is tlie
Saviour of all men, especially of tliem that believe. A
merciful God is moreover their God in Jesus Clirist.
A world of sinners can look in only one du^ection
to see God, to wit, in the direction of the ark and
mercy-seat, which gives a propriety to the repeated
use of this ascription in such temple-services as are
connected with the ark of the covenant. God
dwelt there, between the cherubim, that is, over the
propitiatory. Hence the cry, O thou that dwellest
between the cherubim ! It was an inhabitation of
mercy. There he received incense ; there he pre-
sided over the sprinkling of blood ; there he shone
forth in a glory which any where else would have
been consuming. The other instances of mercy
contained in this psalm are favours and deliverances
towards a sinful but accepted people, which are all
founded on the covenant of which this ark was the
symbol. It is part of his royal name and title, the
Lord God, merciful and gracious — keeping mercy
for thousands ; long-suffering and of great mercy ; he
delighteth in mei'cy. Such are some of the phrases
of the Old Testament, while in the New, this is the
great topic, and every page seems to exhale the
fragrance of the benediction, Grace, Mercy, and
Peace.

The Goodness, the Love, the Grace, and the
Mercy of God, are only so many phases of the
same orb ; all the outshining of one and the same
benignant Jehovah ; and all entitled to our praise.

22 CONSOLATION.

The goodness of God is his infinite disposition to do
good to the creature. The love of God is the same
goodness in its more distinct propension toward the
person of the creature, whereby God tends to bless
the creature, by the communication of himself, and
this in various degrees — the love of the creature^ the
love of man^ and the love of his peoj^le. The
Grace of God is his infinite disposition to commu-
nicate himself to the creature, in divine gratuity,
irrespective of all merit in the object. And the
Mercy of God, regarding man as fallen and sinful, is
God's disposition to pardon sin and succour misery.
It stands related to goodness, as kindness to pity, in
the human soul ; it flows from the spring-head of
mere goodness ; it contemplates misery, and misery
which might be left unrelieved, as being justly in-
flicted. It is, therefore, pre-eminently a sovereign
perfection. This mercy of God may be received as
general and special. God's general mercy flies to
the succour of mankind in general, in their various
deserved troubles; his special mercy contemplates
them as united in covenant to the Lord Jesus
Christ. To have any proper view of the divine
mercy, we should consider who and what He is, of
whom it is predicated ; how high, how great, how
all-sufficient, how independent and infinite in per-
petual bliss. We should consider who and what its
objects are; men, fallen men, undeserving, con-
demned enemies of God. The whole dealing of
God with men, as revealed in the Scriptures, pro-
ceeds on this basis. We mistake fatally, if we as-

god's EVEELASTma MEECY. 23

sume any other. Thus viewed, the mercy of God is
amazing, in its mode of action, its means and instru-
ments, its sublime and tender events, its stupen-
dous sacrifices, its elaborate, complicated, yet simple
arrangements, and its extraordinary and immeasur-
able results. There was a dawn of this benignity in
the Old Testament ; but it is a clear shining under
the 'New. Its very nature is embodied in the name
of Jesus. When, after long journeyings through a
land of wilderness, abounding in convictions, fears,
legal restraints, and unavailing endeavours, the
weary pilgrim-soul first obtains a glimpse of this at-
tribute, thus revealed, it is as when the remnant of
the ten thousand Greeks, under Xenophon, after
long battling and travel, caught a sight of the
[ Euxine, and cried in a shout of raj^ture, tJie sea ! tlie
sea ! Old Testament saints had glimpses, as when
one sees the ocean from a favoured hill-top, in a
distant view ; JSTew Testament believers are allowed
to come and stand by the side of the mighty, inter-
minable main.

It is our unspeakable privilege, brethren, to
live under this dispensation of divine mercy. And
we can rehearae disjDlays of it far more wonderful
than those which are recounted in any psalm. When
we praise " him who alone doeth gi^eat wonders," we
can include the wonders of redemption. When we
ascril^e glory " to him that made great lights," we
can rejoice in that true Light which now shineth.
He that " smote Eg}q3t in their first-born" is indeed
the God of mercy ; but still more, he who delivered

24 C0NS0LATI015T.

for us his only-begotten Son, " for it pleased tlie
Lord to bruise liim." The overthrow of Pharaoh,
of Sihon, and of Og, was but a type of our deliver-
ance. So that we can exclaim with even higher
transport than the HebreAv, " who remembered us
in our low estate ; for his mercy endureth for ever ;
and hath redeemed us from our enemies; for his
mercy endureth for ever."

If it was right for Israel to recount the memory
of these national advantages, it is doubly incum-
bent on Christians to speak to the praise and the
glory of that grace wherein we are accepted in the
Beloved. Especially should we record the great
transaction, the chosen display of divine goodness
to mankind, in the election of Messiah — his taking
human flesh — his company ing with rejecting men, in
circumstauces of lowliness, and shame, and pain —
his conflict with the hour of darkness — his bloody,
mysterious death, and his godlike resurrection.
Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he
loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for
our sins.

The main channel and torrent of mercy flows in
a majestic stream in the redemption of the soul ;
but its flood receives and embosoms ten thousand
lesser currents of temporal bounty. Divine mercy
does not neglect the less while she accomjDiishes the
greater. As she marches heavenward, with eyes
fixed upon the - crown and kingdom, she scatters
largesses at every step. All our blessings flow from
this same ojien hand, and are, therefore, properly

god's eveelasting meecy. 25

denominated mercies. The covenant includes these,
and the believer hopes for them, on the prin-
ciple, that all is his. Each returning season ex-
poses to view some new aspect of divine benignity.
Tliou croivnest tlie year loitJi tliy goodness. Our
persons, our landscapes, our neighbourhoods, our
city, our state, our nation, our race, are recipients
every moment of this boundless favour ; magnified
inconceivably when we consider that it descends
upon the unworthy, and made most tender and im-
pressive, when we consider that it descends upon us.
And there is no ^dew of the divine glory which so
exalts him, as when he is beheld as the source of
incessant and innumerable and immeasurable rivers
of good ; himself the Great Parent, on whom all the
ranks of creatures hang and are nourished. It is
the theme of celestial worlds :

"And where the river of bhss through midst of heaven
Eolls o'er Elysian flowers her amber stream ;
With these that never fade the spirits elect
Bind then- resplendent looks inwreathed with beams :
Now in loose garlands thick thrown ofl'; the bright
Pavement that like a sea of jasper shone,
Impurpled with celestial roses smiled.
Then crowned again their golden harps they took,
Harps ever tuned, that glittering by their side
Like quivers hung, and with preamble sweet,
Of charming symphony they introduce
Their sacred song, and waken raptures high ;
No voice exempt, no voice but well could join
Melodious part, such concord is in heaven."

III. The Idea of JEtemity. — The strict transla-
tion of the text is, " Thy mercy ... to eternity !"

26 CONSOLATION.

In its fulness of significancy, it is predicable of God
alone, " who only hath immortality." At the gro\^ of
Beersheba (Gen. xxi. 33), Abraham invoked Jeho-
vah under the name of The Eterival God. " He
inJiahitetJi eternit}^," — a sublime phrase, teaching us,
that as time and space are the limits of all things
finite, so God overleaps both by his immensity ; the
one — space — by his omnipotence, the other — time —
by his eternity. The tracts of space are vast, and
confounding to om' imagination. Our own day
has witnessed the first exact measurement of the
distance of the nearest fixed star, which is twen-
ty-one millions of millions of miles. A learned cal-
culator has shown, that " in the space around our
solar system devoid of stars, there is room in one
dimension, or one straight line, for twelve thousand
solar systems ; in two dimensions, or in one plane,
there is room for one hundred and thirty millions
of solar systems ; and in actual sidereal space of
three dimensions, there is room for one and a half
miUion millions of solar systems the si^^e of our
own." Such are the Uanhs in the scheme; how
fearful the thought of such physical immensity ! I
call your mind to it, to say that God is there — in all
conceivable space, and heyond all. So in regard to
time ; God is from everlasting to everlasting. He
is without beginning and without ending. Incom-
prehensible as this is, the reverse is inconceivable.
Something must be without beginning : else nothing
could ever have been. And what can be so reason-
ably assumed to be without beginning, as the infi-

god's everlasting 3IERCY. 27

nite First Cause ? There is sometliing about the idea
of eternity wliicli oppresses the soul. Yet from un-
der this incubus we cannot escape. There is some-
thing mysterious in the way whereby we arrive at
the idea of eternity. I cannot think it is by enu-
meration— by adding unit to unit — even though the
process were continued for a hfetime, or a lifetime of
the world ; for at the last of this process we should
still be as far from eternity as when we began. No
such summation of a series can, as I suppose, gene-
rate the conception. I rather conceive it, though not
an innate, an uncompounded idea of the infinite.
New and startling as the suggestion may be to some,
eternity has no parts. It therefore has no succes-
sion. The Eternal One is ever the same. To his
mind all the past, the present, and the future, are
present at once. The life of God is enjoyed, not by
a passage from the past into the present, and the
present into the future, but is j)ossessed perfectly,
wholly, and interminably, all at once. No years, no
centuries, no sidereal cycles, measure Him whose
name is, I AM THAT I AM. Of our lives, a por-
tion vanishes every moment : but it is not so with
God. And that which most interests us now, is that
his mercy is everlasting — his mercy endure th for
ever. Wherever and whenever God is, he is in the
plenitude of mercy. Divine benignity spreads those
ample wings more widely than the universe itself.
There are regions beyond the most distant nebulous
outskirts of matter ; but no regions beyond the di-
vine goodness. We may conceive of tracts where

28 CONSOLATION.

tliere are no worlds, but not of any wliere there is
no God of mercy.

Let me particularize one or two meanings of tlie
declaration.

1. God's mercy endureth for ever, in tlie sense
tliat lie will never cease to be merciful. He must
at tlie same time cease to be God. The burdened
soul turns with expectation to an unchangeable Be-
ing. As this is one of the sublimest, so it is also one
of the most consolatory truths. Every thing around
us and within us is suifering mutation; but the
changeful stream of creatures and events, flowing in
perpetual broken waves, washes the base of that
awful pyramid of being, whose summit is lost in the
unapproachable clouds of divinity. Under the dis-
couragements of our frailty and nothingness, we
look away, almost by an instinct of our nature, to
discover something solid and permanent. This we
can find nowhere short of the Great Supreme ; and
when we have reached this centre, we repose with a
serene complacency of spirit. Thus the prophetic
bard sings, " Keturn unto thy rest, O my soul, for
the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee."

Let the troubled soul consider, that in all the
diflpQsion of his omnipresence, God is everywhere
merciful. As he hath been, so he will be. His
benignity is subject to no fitful waning or caprice.
The day can never come when he shall be less mer-
ciful than at this instant. This mercy has no bounds,
in regard to those creatures who are its proper ob-
jects. "A God all mercy were a God unjust :" this

god's EVEKLASTING IVIERCY. 29

cannot be denied or forgotten ; and tliere are those
who, rejecting the mercy of God against them-
selves, fall upon the sword of his eternal justice.
Yet within the circle of his gracious plan, and where
he has undertaken to save, we may believe, that
taking a large and comprehensive view, God's com-
munication of benefit is hmited only by the capaci-
ty of the creature ; and that this capacity will be
continually increasing, in accordance with a love
which endureth for ever. We look forward, there-
fore, to a display of this attribute, which shall never
cease, but have new developments to all eternity !
For the Most High will act as God ; that is, with
an infinitude of glory in all his merciful acts ; and
the radiance of liis benevolence in this world is only
the preparatory twinkle of a day without cloud or
sunset. If we may so express it, Jehovah takes a
holy complacency and satisfaction in acting forth
his divine attributes, in creating fit objects, in mould-
ing them for this purpose, in widening their suscejD-
tibilities, and magnifying their joys. In this is dis-
played the glory of his nature, in the \iew of all
holy and intelligent worlds ; and thus will it be, in-
creasingly, for ever : so that thousands of ages hence,
the adorable Lord, whom we now justly regard as
infinitely merciful, will not only show himself clearly
such towards a greater number of creatures, but will
in each of these shine resplendent with a lustre be-
coming perpetually more bright. The contempla-
tion of this will form in a high degree the bliss of
heaven ; and the beatific vision will include a view
of the divine mercy as enduring for ever.

30 CONSOLATION.

Tliis aspect of the divine perfection is therefore.
a never-faihng source of comfort to a soul disturbed
by sin and sorrow. Whatever may be the cause of
disquietude, immediate peace is found, when the soul
reposes itself on God. It has then gravitated to its
true centre. It has no longer any thing to seek.
Our attempts at consolation often fail, because we
stop short of this ultimate idea. Even when medi-
tating religiously, we are apt to rest in the creature,
as in some of God's gifts, instead of plunging at
once, without reserve, into the boundless ocean of
that divine mercy which can never suffer loss or
termina,tion.

2. God's mercy endureth for ever, in the sense
that he will never cease to be merciful to his church.
This is consolation indeed to those who belong to
this favoured community. From the beginning to
the end, as long as there shall be a church, God will
be its covenant and merciful Father, through Christ
Jesus. For the church may be regarded as a spe-
cial organ for the exercise, transmission and display
of this very benevolence. After the introduction
of sin, God has no channel so remarkable for the
flow of his mercy as the church of Christ. It was
for the manifestation of his glorious attributes, that
he chose it in Christ Jesus, before the world began ;
and among these attributes, for manifesting those of
Goodness, Grace, and Mercy. For this purpose, the
calling and gathering of individuals have been con-
ducted through different dispensations. The mercy
of the Lord is perpetually and gloriously displaying
itself by. means of the redeemed ; and it is God's

god's eveelasting :meecy. 31

unchangeable purpose to bring this whole plan to a
consummation, when the number of the elect shall
be made up, and the Bride, the Lamb's wife, shall
be shown to the universe in the last days. Now as
these are God's purposes towards his church, and as
his mercy in regard to it is everlasting, every mem-
ber of this spiritual body has a source of consola-
tion, altogether withheld from the world without.
It is not a small thing to belong to that community
for which Christ died, for which he prays, and unto
which he pm^poses to give dominion. Temporary
afflictions may break over the heads of Christ's peo-
ple, but the nature of the covenant is such that they
cannot be unsafe. The very hairs of their heads
are all numbered. To destroy them, would be to
frustrate the divine plan. They are the objects of
an everlasting love. This comfort, therefore, may
be taken by the humblest believer, from his connec-
tion with a covenant which is well ordered in all
things and sure.

When days are dark, let the soul turn itself to
him who dwelleth in Zion, and who can never for-
get her. Christian su^Dports are the more sure and
abiding when they are taken in common with all
the chosen seed, and on the grounds of covenant
faithfulness. When we can place ourselves in such
a position that the promises of God towards his
church become promises to us individually, we are
drinking waters which flow out of the sanctuary it-
self.

3. God's mercy endureth for ever, in the sense

32 CONSOLATION.

that in future eternity, otherwise called tlie world to
Gome^ there will be glorious developments of this
very attribute, as known to us. In that coming
age, that expanse of blissful knowledge and posses-
sion, which we hope and pray for, and to which
every returning day brings us so much nearer —
what is it, think you, that shall make our heaven ?
An everlastuig drowsiness and dream of listless in-
action ? mountains of odours, fragrant meads, crys-
tal rivers, Elysian fruits, melody and harmony ? —
simj^le rest? simple exemption from pain? simple
lamblike innocence ? Is this heaven ? — learning
nothing, doing nothing ? This is not heaven. I will
tell you what it is: it is seeing God — it is seeing
him more and more — it is going from star to star,
and from system to system, in this voyage of divine
discovery. There is enough in God for all eternity ;
for all that there is in creatures, is in him by way
of eminence. There are attributes of God, we may
reasonably suppose, of which we have not even a
conception, and in relation to which we are now in
the condition of a man born blind, in relation to
colours, or a man born deaf in relation to sounds.
An animal with one sense (there are such) can
know but little of nature ; less, far less, in compari-
son, do we know of God. I suppose there are facul-
ties absolutely latent in the human mind which are
to reveal themselves in that new state, in the pre-
sence of objects now beyond their reach. It will
not be a lesson of a day to expatiate on the divine
nature. Duration must expand. Astronomy has

god's EVEELASTmG MERCY. 33

revealed certain binary stars, as 66 Oet% one of
which revolves around tlie other in a period of several
thousands of years. Conceive the uniting line, the
radius of these two suns, as the hand that moves
upon the celestial dial-plate. It has proceeded a re-
volution. Worlds may have perished during this
hour of heaven; but the soul is still learning to
know more of that infinite benignity which shines in
the face of Jesus Christ. Some have rendered the
text, " His mercy is for the coming age :" it is true.
Then shall we see face to face, and know, even as
also we are known ; and this in regard to the mercy
which has ransomed man. We shall better compre-
hend all the transaction of Gethsemane and Gol-
gotha, aifd look more nearly into the heart of God,
when the Man Christ Jesus, bone of our bone, and
flesh of our flesh, shall be the daysman and the in-
terpreter. Then shall we know the privilege con-
ferred on us, in that we are made immortal beings.
Then shall we discover that this world has revealed
but the beginning of his kindnesses unto mankind.
Then shall the overflowing goodness of the Divinity
display the true bliss of Him whose power is exerted
in every direction to make his people hapjDy. With
no stinted hand will he cast abroad the greatness of
his benign endowments on the family of redeemed
ones, while each one of the palm-bearing multitude,
pointing out to its sister spirit the now exalted cause
of all this favour, shall cry, " This is my Beloved,
and this is my Friend."

THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD A GEOUND
OF CONSOLATION.

II.

MEX are prone to think of God, says tlie excellent
Melancthon, as of a shipbuilder, who, when he
has com2->leted his vessel, launches and leaves it. In
opposition to this error of the Epicureans and Stoics,
we are to be reminded that God never abandons his
work, but is as much with it the last day as the first.
This governing presence of God Tvith all his crea-
tures and all their actions, is called Providence^ from
a Latin word which means to see beforehand. If we
look on creation as God's first revelation of himself,
we may look on Pro^ddence as the continuance of
that revelation. It is that general agency of God,
whereby he abides with the creature, upholding and
directing it for all the ends for which it was made.
Hence the twofold topic of Preseevation and
GovEEx:nEXT. If a volition of the Almighty was
necessary to bring creatures into being, a continued
volition is necessary to keep them in being. The
mere will of God was creative ; it brought creation
out of nothiner : the like will continued is the divine
Providence. No more can beino\s continue to exist
without God, than they could have begun to exist
without him. This has not been sufficiently con-

38 CONSOLATION.

sidered. The infinite and eternal God is tlie basis
of all being. In him we live, and move, and have
our being. If that incomprehensible influence,
whereby each thing is^ and is vjJiat it is*, should be
withdrawn for an instant, all things would lose their
existence, and would go back into annihilation. No
positive act of God would be necessary to reduce
the universe to nothing. This perpetual and indis-
pensable sustentation of all things is part of Divine
Providence. Hence, the old divines were accus-
tomed to speak of Providence as a contimied crea-
tion. As creation is the will of God that things
should exist and begin to be, so Providence is the
win of God that things should continue to be. The
created world continues by the very same power
which caused it to begin. This preservation of all
things is the first act of Providence, and that with-
out which other acts would have been impossible.
None but God, the infinite One, can be conceived of
as competent to so great a work. It demands for
its execution omniscience^ to *know the universe
which is to be preserved, and to know how to pre-
serve it ; omnipresence^ to apply this divine know-
ledge in every place ; and omnipotence^ to carry out
the amazing work on the immensity of things. This
preserving power extends to the twofold universe
of matter and of spirit. (1.) To the world of matter.
It is kept what it is by this never-ceasing influence.
The pro|)erties of matter are maintained such, by an
abiding will of God. We may talk of gravity, of
motion, and of divisibiHty ; these are only modes of

THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD. 39

existence wliicli liave no substantiality in themselves,
but are kept such by God. We may talk of the
laws of matter, and sometimes may ignorantly think
of them as principles or powers existing in matter,
even independently of the Creator, but these laws
ai^e only God's methods of producing effects by ma-
terial means. Every existence, and every property
and quality and act of each, is maintained simply
by the everlasting power of God. Were this power
to be withheld, they would not only cease to have
such qualities, but would cease to be.

The dream of atheism is, that the laws of nature
constitute all the power there is; and that these
laws are only a tendency of material things, render-
ing unnecessary the supposition of a fii'st cause dis-
tinct from matter. The equally absurd dream of
Pantheism is, that every thing is God (hence the
name), and that all the revolutions of the great mass
are stages in the development and growth of divi-
nity ; for Pantheism believes that God may develop,
and change, and grow. But reason suggests and re-
velation declares that the material world is upheld
by a most powerful, wise, holy, and infinite Being,
separate from itself. (2.) Again, this preserving
power extends to tlie world of spirit. God, who in-
spired the soul of man, and created all embodied
spirits, continues their being by his perpetual sus-
tentation. Not as the Pantheists imagine, that all
spirits are parts or modifications of God, but that
God, while eternally distinct from all spirits, is inti-
mately present with all, sustaining them in all their

40 CONSOLATION.

properties and acts. In this important sense, God is
not far from every one of ns. Surrounded and -con-
tained by him, and upheld in all the more glorious
attributes of manhood by his power, we may in truth
be said to be nearer to God than our bodies are to
our souls. " Whither shall I go from thy Spirit,
and whither shall I flee from thy presence ? If I
ascend up into heaven, thou art there ; if I make my
bed in hell, behold thou art there ; if I take the
wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost
parts of the sea; even there shall thy hand lead
me, and thy right hand shall hold me." Ps. 139.
This upholding power is properly due to none but
God ; and hence we derive an irresistible argument
for the divinity of our Lord Jesus ; since he who
thus upholds must be omniscient, omnipotent, and
omnipresent, that is, must be God ; and since this
preservation is ascribed to Christ, Heb. 1:3: " Who
being the brightness of his glory, and the express
image of his person, and upholdiug all things by
the word of his powder f and Col. 1:17, " All things
were created by him and for him ; and he is before
all things, and by him all things consist."

The view which we here take of Providence,
regards the universe of mind and matter, not as a
machine, wound up and left to run its career of
centuries, without the Maker's care, but as requiring
and receiving at every moment his mighty influence,
a stream of power perpetually proceeding from the
Godhead. The very essence of God is, therefore,
everlastingly present with every atom and every

THE PEOVIDENCE OF GOD. 41

spirit. This is exactly accordant to tliose places
in Scripture where God is spoken of as tlie uni-
versal cause, and is said to do those tilings which
are done, secondarily, by creatures. Ps. 104; 8, 30.
And to this is referred the supporting of life in the
most insignificant birds. Matt. 10: 29. Enough has
been said in regard to this primary acting of divine
Providence, in preserving all things. How God
does this it would be madness for us to inquire.
The simplicity of the divine acts causes them to
elude our faculties. He wills it, and that is
enough ; just as at the beginning he willed creation.
What we chiefly need is to bear this in mind, with
daily faith, awe, and thankfulness. Such is God's
preserving of the creature, as a part of Providence.

II. But there is another equally imj)ortant agen-
cy, put forth by the infinite Creator ; it is the direc-
tion of all tilings. God not only peeseeves but
GovEENS the universe of matter and spirit. He
continues to " direct, dispose, and govern all crea-
tui-es, actions, and things, fi^om the greatest even to
the least, by his most wise and holy providence,
according to his infallible foreknowledge, and the
free and immutable counsel of his own will, to the
praise of the glory of his wisdom, power, justice,
goodness, and mercy." C. F. c. v. 1.

What is to be proposed will have regard to a
twofold objection; against God's providence con-
cerning t/infles^ and his providence concerning sins.

And here, let me acknowledge, I have often
wondered at the distinctions taken by some men

42 CONSOLATION.

wlio would hold rank as philosopliers, but wlio
nevertheless, affirm a general while they deny a
particular providence, as if the general were not
made up of the particulars, or as if God could attend
to the whole without attending to the parts. This
error is perhaps increased by our forms of expression,
allowable in themselves, when, for example, we say
of this or of that event, that "it is providential,"
when in very deed all are providential, as all are
ordered from the greatest to the least. ' Under pre-
text of exalting God, and raising him above the care
and trouble of earthly things, we betray really low
notions of his divinity. We judge of him as of our-
selves, and of God as if he were man ; our language
implies that what is burdensome and annoying to us
must be so to him. We allow him to direct suns
and stars and comets, and things in heaven, but the
sparrow and the hairs of the head we deem too
small for him. Yet, you remember, these are the
very instances which he has chosen. That which
was fit to be created, is fit to be preserved, though
it be the infinitesimal muscle or nerve in the micros-
copic animalcule or infusoria. We make too much
of our distinctions of greater and smaller, when we
carry them into eternity : such quantities reach not
Jehovah. It costs him no more thought, no more
labour, no more exertion, to maintain an atom in its
sunbeam, than to whirl systems of suns and planets
and satellites along the shining galaxy. In this
sense, we may accept as true the celebrated words
of the poet, though false in another—

THE PKOVIDEITCE OF GOD. 43

" Who sees with equal eye, as God of all,
A hero perish, or a sparrow fall,
Atoms or systems into ruin hurled,
And now a bubble burst, and now a world."

Essay on Man^ 1. 88.

When God beholds his eternal plan spread out
in the infinite idea of his own wisdom, his perfect
knowledge reaches not only to the grand portions,
but to every ramification and filament; and with
perfect ease plans and directs for the insect of an
hour, as for the triumph of an emperor. We, there-
fore, attribute to the care and guidance of God " all
things without exception, whether celestial or sub-
lunary, small or great, good or evil, necessary or
free, so that there is nothing in nature which can
exist or occur, without his distinct permission." If
it were glorious to create, why not to govern ? God
is nowhere greater than in the smallest things — the
plumage of the insect, and the circulation of a sys-
tem, the very existence of which is revealed to us by
the solar microscope. God is in such wise great in
great things, that he is no less great in the very
least. This ought to answer the objection drawn
from the littleness of the affairs which a particular
providence would refer to God.

But there is another objection to our doctrine
of God's government of all things, which has still
more strongly operated to make some banish the
Creator from his moral universe; it is that God's
providence cannot have any thing to do with sinful
acts ; and that to say that it has, were to destroy
all freedom of the creature, and all accountabihty

44 COI^SOLATION.

for crime. It may be well to say at once, tliat if
we assert tliat evil acts may not be foreseen and
provided for, we may as well deny tlie Bible at
once. There never was a more evil act tlian tlie
death of Christ ; yet it was provided for, and (not
only so) was indispensably necessary to the salva-
tion of men. It was provided for during ages preced-
ing; and Peter says of it very distinctly (Acts 2 :
23) : " Him^ being delivered by the determinate
counsel and foreknowledge of God, ye have ta^ken,
and with wicked hands have crucified and slain."
The act is declared to be wicked^ yet it is equally
declared to be by the " determinate counsel and
foreknowledge of God;" therefore, acts which are
evil may be included in the plan of Providence. A
lesser, but equally demonstrative case, is that of
Joseph. The act of his brethren, in selling him
into Egypt, was an evil act, yet it was governed by
Providence. It was all arranged and foreseen. It
formed a part of God's plan. It was intended to
produce the most beneficial results. What says
Joseph ? (Gen. 45 : 7, 8.) " God sent me before
you. It was not you that sent me hither, but
God." And again (50 : 20) : " As for you, ye
thought evil against me, but God meant it unto
good, to bring to pass, as it is this day, to save much
people alive." Now, here I would ask of every ob-
jector two questions : 1. Was the sending of Joseph
to Egypt providential or not ? To this there can
be but one answer : Scripture gives answer in God's
name: " God sent me before you." 2. Was the act

THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD. 45

of selling Joseph sinful ? There is no answer, but-
one, in the words of Joseph ; " Ye thought evil, but
God meant it for good." Ye thought evil / here is
sin: God meant it unto good ; here is providence.
So Hkewise in the case of the Assyrian invading and
punishing the Hebrews (Isa. 10 : 6, Y) : "I will send
him against a hypocritical nation, and against the
people of my wrath will I give him a charge, to
take the spoil and to take the prey, and to tread
them down like the mire of the streets. Howbeit
he meaneth not so, neither doth his heart think so ;
but it is in his heart to destroy and cut off nations
not a few." The Assyrian committed crime in his
invasion; yet he thereby worked out the results
which God intended. In the commission of his
crime, he was perfectly free, and perfectly account-
able ; yet this crime was not only foreseen, but,
as we observe, predicted by the Almighty. God
was not the author of the sin, though the sin oc-
curred providentially ; and, foreseeing this, God re-
cognizes his accountability, and denounces punish-
ment (v. 12): "Wherefore it shall come to pass,
that when the Lord hath performed his whole work
upon Mount Zion, and on Jerusalem, I will punish
the fruit of the stout heart of the king of Assyria,
and the glory of his high looks." If we do not re-
cognize this intervention of Providence in regard to
the free acts of creatures, we can never interpret
those judgments of God which are wrought by
wicked men. " Saul took a sword, and fell upon
it." (1 Chr. 10: 4.) It was his own act — his

46 CONSOLATION.

wicked act ; yet wliat saith tlie Scriptures ? (v. 13) :
" So Saul died, for his transgression wliich he com-
mitted against the Lord. And he inquired not of
the Lord ; therefore He slew him, and returned the
kingdom unto David, the son of Jesse." This may
serve to show how grave an error is committed by
many persons in certain expressions of theirs. We
hear them say, for example, ''I could bear this
trial better if there were any thing providential in
it — if it proceeded from any direction of God ; but,
on the contrary, it proceeds from wicked men.^' Very
well; so it may, and yet be providential. "The
wicked," says David, are "thy sword." God can
make the wicked acts of men a sword to punish
others, and even themselves. The conspiracy
against Christ was wicked ; yet the early believers
said, and said in prayer to God (Acts 4: 27),
" For of a truth against thy holy child Jesus, whom
thou hast anointed, both Herod and Pontius Pilate,
with the Gentiles and people of Israel, were gather-
ed together, for to do whatsoever thy hand and thy
counsel determined before to be done." Here the
wicked acts of men come clearly within the scope
of Providence. Here is evidently joined with the
permission of sins that " most wise and powerful
bounding, and otherwise ordering and governing of
them, in a manifold dispensation to his own holy
ends, yet so as the sinfulness thereof proceedeth
only from the creature, and not from God, who,
being most holy and righteous, neither is nor can be
the author or approver of sin." The instances above

THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD. 4 '7

given, wMcli were free and contingent with regard
to their actors, are expressly ascribed to Divine Pro-
vidence. And is there not a consolation in so be-
lieving? Suppose we assert providence of good
things only, and not of bad: what follows? That
which we most dread, and which alone can do us
harm, namely, the wickedness of men and de\dls, is
placed beyond the pro\ddential guidance of God.
Surely, there is no comfort in believing that the
worst, and most atrocious and destructive acts of
men are under the dominion of blind chance ! Yet
such is the common opinion of worldly men on this
subject. The government of God, indeed, with re-
gard to evil acts, is different from his government
in regard to holy acts. He may include both in
his most wise plan, but he contemplates free acts as
free acts, and in no degree puts forth any causative
influence to tempt or compel to the commission of
them. That there are difficulties here we do not
for a moment deny ; but they are such as arise from
the depths of the divine nature, and the short
sounding-line of human reason. In two things we
all agree. We must all admit God's permission of
evil. Without this permission it could never have
existed. God was clearly under no necessity of
having sin in the universe. He could clearly have
made men without the faculty of sinning; or he
could have made a system without men ; or he
could have forborne from making any system at all.
The evil in the universe is clearly under God's per-
mission : he suffers it to exist. In this, I say, we

48 COKSOLATION.

all agree. There is anotlier thing in wliicli we all
agree, and between tliese two limits of undeniable
truth our opinions have room to oscillate. We all
agree that God has no participation in moral evil.
Though he permits it, as the product of free crea-
tui'es, he hates it. Our church has been charged
with holding that God is the author of the sin of
sinful acts ; on the contrary, it says : " The sinful-
ness thereof proceedeth only from the creature, and
not from God." ^ " Let no man say when he is
tempted, I am tempted of God ; for God cannot be
tempted with evil, neither tempteth he any man."
God could annihilate the sinful creature the mo-
ment his fi'ee nature breaks forth into sin. In
his infinite wisdom he has chosen to do otherwise,
and to uphold the existence of the creature even
when rebelling against him, yet in such a man-
ner that the taint and pollution belong only to the
sinner.

All the creatures of God, then, and all their
acts, are governed by his most wise, and holy, and
omnipotent providence, to work out his own excel-
lent glory. This is God's ultimate end in creation.
No other can be conceived of To make any thing
but God his own end, were to set something above
God. When as yet there was no creation, and no
providence, God contained in himself all the rea-
sons of what was afterwards to be ; and these rea-
sons still remain. To create, was in a manner to
reveal himself, — the earliest revelation ; not by

* Conf. F. c. V.

THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD. 49

words, but acts, and every creature, witli all that
proceeds from it, is a part of this display. The ad-
dition of spiritual and intellectual agencies, men
and angels, to the otherwise brute fabric of God's
works, afforded indeed spectators of this glory, and
judges of this skill ; and the quality of choice, free-
dom, or voluntary action possessed by these beings,
introduces a new principle into the universe ; one
which separates morals from nature, and one in
which the Most High appears to take the greatest
complacency. For w^e know of nothing which God
so loves, or which he purchases at so high a rate, as
the free love of a creature. This exalts his benevo-
lence, and is the key to many of his dispensations.
But all creature minds, however spiritual and how-
ever free, are infinitely inferior to Jehovah, and in-
finitely too small to afford the real motive of the
universe, which must have been eternal, — which
must have been God. All the boundless combina-
tions and interchanges of matter and mind (the lat-
ter being far the more complicated and wonderful),
all the play of wheel in wheel, of cause in cause, of
thought in thought, of passion in passion, conspire
to work out one and the same result — the glory of
God. " For of him, and through him, and to him,
are all things."

What a dismal view is that which epicurean in-
fidelity takes of this universal frame ! God is not
in all his works ! He has left them. As if I should
be introduced to a lofty, w^ide, and noble palace :
its walls are strength ; every quality of a magnifi-
4

50 CONSOLATION.

cent structure is there ; all is convenience and orna-
ment. I gaze on its sublime colonnades, its sculp-
tured friezes, its statued walls, its interior deco-
rations. Wliat is there left to be desired? One
thing : it has no inhabitant. Such is the universe
without a providence. Deny the actual and efficient
presence of God in his works (and this is provi-
dence), and you leave me a world without reason.
You give me no assurance that the very next mo-
ment may not produce some general and direful
catastrophe, invohdng all in common destruction,
without respect to character, swallowing up the good
as well as the evil : for to provide for a difference
between them would be a providence. The pro-
gress of history is a tangled web, but its develop-
ments are chaos indeed, without God. The unfolding
of God's design is history. It is he who changes dy-
nasties, and over the convulsion of revolutionary Avar,
makes a highway for his own glorious approach. The
study of human records, of daily journals, and even
of legislative and diplomatic documents, throw very
little light on the riddle of history. The great he-
roic instruments themselves know little. But the
study of revelation, which is God's key to providence,
reveals to the believer more than the world dreamed
of. Nebuchadnezzar, Cyrus, Alexander the Great,
and the Roman power, were all foreshown to
Daniel in the visions of Chaldea. Compare with
this the foresight of the great minds themselves,
and how clearly do we perceive that it is not they,
but Provid(mce, that laid the plan. Think you that

THE PEOVTDEiqCE OF GOD. 51

Nebuchadnezzar dreamed, wlieii lie was consolidat-
ing his mighty empire, that it should presently be
given to the Medes and Persians ? As little, as that
the great Euphrates should be turned out of its
bed : and yet both took place. Think you the
young, adventurous Macedonian, as he swept over
Asia, conceived that in that same Babylon he should
die of his debaucheries ? Or Caesar, just arrived at
the summit of power, with the republic at his feBt,
that he should perish by the daggers of his friends ?
Or Napoleon, that he should die a lingering death
in a remote isle ? Or Charles the Tenth, or Louis
Philippe, that they should become fugitives, and
die in exile ? As little as the great planners, legis-
lators, and orators of Europe know this day what
shall be the succeeding revolutions of the wheel.
But God knows. And God has been pleased to dis-
close some glimpses of his plan. He shows us
a dehcate but perceptible thread, running as a gold-
en clew through all these transactions and changes,
even when most wilfal and most unexpected. Gov-
ernments, nations, and languages decay ; but the
Church remains. It is the great organ for manifest-
ing God's glory, and for exalting his Son. For we
live under a mediatorial dispensation, and the king-
doms of this world are to become the kingdoms of
God, and of his Christ.

Nor let the humble Christian fear, lest amid the
greatness of such events, his little individual inter-
ests should be forgotten or overlooked. Oh no !
It is a blessed thing to be on the side of One, of

52 CONSOLATION.

whom, and through whom, and to whom are all
things. We have seen it to be a characteristic glo-
ry of God's knowledge and acts, that he can conde-
scend to the infinitely small, as well as stretch his
creative hand to the infinitely great. Amidst the
voices from the throne, which tell of the fall of em-
pires, and the triumph of Immanuel, we hear also a
whisper of love, saying to the Chmxh, " Fear not,
little flock : ifc is your Father's good pleasure to give
you the kingdom ;" • and saying to the believer, " The
very hairs of your head are all numbered." " Take
no thought for the morrow." " Your Father know-
eth that ye have need of these things." Ah! I
know the sneering objection which poor, self-tor-
menting skepticism makes to this particular provi-
dence. In his zeal to make himself an orphan in
the universe, he denies that God can take any meas-
ures for the relief of individual cases. This would
be to step aside from his original plan. Hence the
vulgar objections to trusting in God's help in emer-
gencies, or to praying for it. How preposterous
(such an one tells us) to think that God will vary
from the line of his sublime acts, to meet the case
of a poor woman, or an insignificant child. True
enough : but God does not vary ; he does not devi-
ate. That emergency, that distress, that cry, that
deliverance, — all are parts of the plan, links of the
chain ; and this is precisely what we mean by provi-
dence. The ignorance and obtuseness are all on the
side of the scoffer, who does not perceive, what I
have earnestly pressed before, that free acts of crea-

THE PEOVIDENCE OF GOD. 53

tures are equally in tlie plan ; and hence, when God
turns aside the arrow from the heart of his praying
child, he does what he foresaw to be done, even
from eternal ages. I wonder, therefore, mor*e than
I can express, that one of the acutest wits that ever
wrote, should so play into the hands of the vulgar
and the superficial, as in these hues, which embrace
the popular notion :

" Shall burning Etna, if a sage require,
Forget to thunder, and recall her fire ?
On air or sea new motions be imprest,
O blameless Bethell, to relieve thy breast ?
When the loose mountain trembles from on high,
Shall gravitation cease, if you go by?
Or some old temple, nodding to its fall,
For Chartres' head reserve the hanging wall ?"

Here is more wit than reason. To each of these
questions we may, in a sound sense, answer. Yes.
Etna hath no fires, but for God's purpose. Gravita-
tion has no cogency an instant longer than God
stands by to act. And when the tower falls, wheth-
er in judgment or not, it falls just where and when
infinite wisdom has predetermined it should fall.
And if this concur with the earnest believing prayer
of God's child, it is not an exception to the gene-
ral rule, or a deviation from the plan, but a substan-
tial part of what was provided for; that is, it is
providence. It is therefore as philosophical as it is
pious, for the child of God to trust in him, and re-
sort to him. The Almighty is never greater than
when he stoops to the wants and weaknesses of his

54 CONSOLATION.

suffering people. His words of promise, especially
as tliey fell from tlie lips of the Lord Jesus Christ,
are surpassingly sweet and encouraging. Tliey oc-
cupy much, of the sermon on the mount. Its latter
paii:s are an application of the doctrine of Provi-
dence. And I solemnly charge every follower of
Christ to believe, that he is never more reasonably
engaged, than when he is casting himself on the
Divine Providence. Instead of shuddering in chilly
doubt as to particular providence, be assured you
cannot conceive of a providence more particular than
that which is. Superstition may take that for provi-
dence which is only its own morbid fancy. Pre-
sumption may rely on Providence, in idle, insolent
neglect of means. But true faith will still cling to the
belief, that the sparrow's fall is not too particular for
God's plan. It is our privilege, not only to hope in
Providence, with regard to the lesser affairs of life,
but to recognize it — to see God's hand in our daily
walk, with wonder and love. " They that observe
providences, shall have providences to observe."
The simple faith of the patriarchs saw God's hand
in every thing that befell them ; and so might we.
I appeal to aged and observant Christians, whether
the happiest persons they ever knew, have not been
those who were most ready to eye God in all the
events of life : in health and sickness, in business, and
in family occurrences. Let us hope in Providence.
Let us hope mightily. " But I will hope continual-
ly, and will yet praise thee more and more." Do
days look dark ? O remember, every cloud is gov-

THE PKOVn)E]S'CE OF GOD. 55

erned by the God of truth and the God of power.
The house in which you dwell is not without a mas-
ter. He has issued his promise.

" His very word of grace is strong,
As that which built tlie skies ;
The voice that rolls the stars along,
Speaks all the promises."

Though sorrow may endure for a night, yet joy
Cometh in the morning. It is all the more likely
to come, for your trusting. " Blessed are all they
that put then* trust in him." Especially delighir
ful is the thought, that the world of mind is un-
der providence ; that thoughts, and feeling, and
frames, and free acts, are controlled by infinite wis-
dom ; and that our spiritual condition is under the
same guidance which regulates our birth and death.
Cling fast to the hand which is leading you. Though
it be thi'ough darkness, though it be in deep waters,
you know whom you have beheved. Yield not for
a single moment to misgivings about future storms
or shipwrecks, as though any part of your religious
voyage could fall out by chance. Infinite love,
joined to infinite skill, shall pilot the way through
every strait, and temptation, and peril. God has
ever loved to place his peo2:)le where they had none
to hope in but him only. Your own experience
probably recalls such times. Let the recollection be
for your abundant encouragement and support. Ee-
pose on the anu which has never failed you hither-
to. And bring in the aid of a nobler consideration,

56 CONSOLATIOlNr.

drawn from an object liiglier than your own per-
sonal, temporary happiness. Love to God is love
to his honour. If by your means his great name
can be exalted ; if, even by trying dispensations to
you, Christ's praise can be diffiised, you will joyful-
ly cry, " Let him be magnified, by body and soul,
whether in life or death." All things work together
for the divine glory : this is a stable truth ; but —
blessed be his name — ^it is equally true, that " all
things work together for good to them that love
God, to them who are called according to his pur-
pose." Such reliance is very different from the
inert repose of the Mussulman on his Fate. It is
reliance on a present God, who is all wisdom, fore-
sight, love and power. He can cause the wrath of
man to praise him ; the remainder of that wrath he
can restrain. Even you who disbelieve and rebel,
shall be made to do reluctant honour to his name.
You are equally swayed by his Providence. If his
condign wrath (which may he forbid) should fall
upon you in the other world, it will be to the praise
of the glory of his justice. But how infinite will
be the gain to you, if you freely accept of his sal-,
vation, and join yourselves to the number of those
who glorify him, not in spite of themselves, not by
rebellion and woe, but by the willing tribute of
joyful service ! In regard to your own happiness,
holiness and perfection. Providence cannot be said
to be on your side, while you remain unreconciled
to God. And this is a very unequal war in which
you are engaged ; for who can stand before him,

THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD. 57

when once lie is angry ? God will educe order out
of confusion, and harmony out of the temporary dis-
cord, however much you may rebel ; but the part
of wisdom is to make God's interest yours, and so
to join yourselves to his certain triumph, as to par-
ticipate in it. Wherefore, " be ye reconciled to
God !" His indignation is intolerable, but his grace
and love are heaven. And they are yours, on ac-
ceptance. None can stay his hand, when he hath a
purpose to bless. He works out his own irresistible
decrees. " For of him, and through him, and to
hbi are all things ; to whom be glory for ever.
Amen."

THE SAME SUBJECT IN ITS APPLICATION
TO THE WHOLE PATH OF LIFE.

III.

I^HE course of God's providence in regard to Ms
- own people is dark and inexplicable. The
principles on wMcLl it is conducted are secrets of
God's court : it is not wonderful that we should be
ignorant of them. We are in darkness even with
respect to the ends for which God is employing us.
It is natural that many of the intermediate events
should be contrary to our expectation. Not more
devious or unexpected were the successive journey-
ings of Israel in the desert than are the ways of the be-
liever in his pilgrimage. It is enough for him to know
that his way is not fortuitous, but that every step is
directed by a Providence which has the same resi-
dence with the Grace from which he hopes for sal-
vation— a Providence which consults and disposes
for the falling of every hair.

In looking back on life, there is, perhaps, no
Christian who does not acknowledge that his way
has been such as to contravene all his expectations
and purposes, and many of his wishes and fears.
Yet there is no well-instructed believer who does
not likeTvdse admit, that the way has been a right
way, and that the most adverse events are part of a

62 COJNSOLATION.

wise, sovereign, and merciful arrangement. Igno-
rant as we are both of our own strengtli and our
own weakness, of tlie work wliicli tlie Master de-
mands, tlie prejDaration wliicli lie would effect, and
the dangers which he foresees as awaiting us, it
would be the height of presumption for us to choose
our own path. In our best hours, it is our consola-
tion that those things which we cannot control are
governed by One who loves us better than we love
ourselves. Who would give the babbling, puling
infant a voice in the conduct of its little life ? yet
the comparison is all in our favour. The infant is
wiser and mightier, when compared with the parent
— need I say it ? — than are we, when compared with
God. The wonder is that we should ever dream of
taking the direction of our own affairs. The mercy
is that they are under the superintendence of Him
who is infinitely able to govern and bless. The
ravings of the wildest storm which threatens our
vessel are regular parts of the plan, agreeably to
which the Sovereign of natm^e and grace is conduct-
ing us towards a state of rest.

We shall now be led, jh^st^ to contemplate the
truth, that while man, through ignorance, cannot
order his life, God does order it ; and secondly^ to
deduce the practical lessons which flow from this
truth.

We can never see this world in its. true light
unless we consider it as a state of discipline — a con-
dition through which we are passing to fit us for
anothei-. It belongs to such a state to be very dif-

god's guidance. 63

ferent from a state of rest and accomplishment.
Many things must necessarily pertain to it which
are but for a season; many things which are not
good in themselves, but good with relation to the
end that is sought. To understand such a condition
of discipline presupposes a knowledge of several
particulars which are beyond the reach of humaa
minds in their present state ; for we must know,
first, what the end is for which the Supreme Gav-
ernor is preparing us ; then, the true state and char-
acter of our own souls, with all their peculiarities
and defects, which make such a discipline necessary;
and lastly, the suitableness of every particular of
such discipline to produce the end desired. This^
it needs but a httle reflection to see, is far beyond
our intellectual power. Especially is this seen
when we take notice that the problem is disturbed
and darkened by involving some of the most diffi-
cult and inscrutable questions, such as the origin of
evil, the nature of spiritual temptation, the decrees
of God, and how far his providence may be said to
concur in the product of those acts which, so far as
we are concerned, are sinful. And the reason why
these inexplicable questions are connected with the
subject is, that our discipline in this world includes
not merely the outward dispensations of God's pro-
vidence, but the free act of creatures, ourselves and
others, and these as well when they are evil as
well as when they are good. It is the prerogative
of God alone to deal with sin without contracting
any taixit. While he cannot be tempted to evil,

64 CONSOLATIOlSr.

neitlier temptetli any man ; and wliile to make God
tlie author of sin is impious, it is, nevertheless, true,
that sin is within the sphere of his providential ar-
rangements ; and his providence has such a refer-
ence to sin as to carry with it, as we have seen,
a "bounding, and otherwise ordering and fore-
seeing of them, in a manifold dispensation, to his
own holy ends, yet so as the sinfulness thereof pro-
ceedeth only from the creature, and not from God."

The connection of this with our subject will be
more apparent, if we consider that all our other tri-
als are light and unimportant when compared with
those which proceed from human freedom, that is,
from the sins of ourselves and others. The direct
visitations of God, in the storm, the pestilence, in
wounds and sufferings and death, admit of more
solace than those which flow from the unhallowed
passions of men ; and even these carry a less poig-
nant sting than our own shameful neglects and trans-
gressions, which wound the soul again and again,
and keep us mourning as long as we are in the flesh.
Yet even these are ordered in wisdom and benig-
nity ; and we take but a narrow view of Providence,
and of our own way, unless we regard them as parts
of a manifold dispensation, intended for our good.

When aged David lies under the rebukes of a
vituperative foe, he exclaims : " So let him curse,
because the Lord hath said unto him, Curse David."
l^ot that the holy king would impute the sin to his
Maker, but that he considers the wicked as God's
sword, and their free transgressions as overruled to

god's GTJIDAlSrCE. 65

effect Ms chastisement. It is tlie province of Jeho-
Yah to bring good out of evil ; but his metliocl of
doing so is among tlie darkest of his ways.

Still more j)ainful is the doubt, when we are
ourselves surprised by sin. Amidst the necessary
and useful paroxysms of shame and grief which fol-
low transgression, we do not find time or heart to
turn our thoughts to this providential aspect of the
subject. Yet it is not too much to say, that all our
frailties, defects, and offences are so governed by the
supreme Providence, as to work out our greater sal-
vation, and the greater glory of divine grace. But
here again, while the result is certain, we are abso-
lutely incompetent to understand the means, and in
this respect the way of man is not in himself We
can only bow, and yield ourselves with implicit sub-
mission to the awful hand of that Providence which
leadeth the bhnd by a way that they know not.

To say that a man is incompetent to dii^ect his
own way, is only to say, that in a tangled forest, full
of pitfalls, a wanderer at midnight, without light, path
or compass, is unable to choose his direction. In
the pilgrimage of this world, we know not whither
we are going, or what God intends to do with us.
The pillar of cloud which guides us is absolutely in-
dependent of om^ disposal ; yet we are bound to be
governed by its motion and its rest. The spirit of
the declaration is still in force : " At the command-
ment of the Lord the children of Israel journeyed^
and at the commandment of the Lord they pitched :
as long as the cloud abode upon the tabernacle, they
5

66 CONSOLATION".

rested in tlieir tents. Or wlietlier it were two days,
or a month, or a year, tliat tlie cloud tarried upon
tlie tabernacle, remaining thereon, the children of
Israel abode in their tents, and journeyed not : but
when it was taken up, they journeyed." We must
expect God's signals, and those indications which
are properly called the leadings of his providence.
It is charged among the sins of Israel, that " they
waited not for his counsel." At one time we find
them disheartened by the report of the spies, turn-
ing back in heart unto Egypt, weeping tears of
vexation all night, and crying. Would God that
we had died in the land of Egypt ! or would God
we had died in this wilderness ! At another, they
are on the opposite extreme, rushing upon the
Amalekites and Canaanites, without command, and
driven before them for their sins with great discom-
fiture. Our course is similar, when we idly attempt
to force a way, in spite of Providence ; when we re-
pine at our lot, or violently endeavour, for reasons
other than those of plain duty, to throw ofi:' the
yoke which is laid upon us, or to break into new
paths which our Leader has not opened. The folly
of such endeavours is as great as its rebellion. The
horizon of our ken is very limited. The circle
which encloses the legitimate field of our planning
and management is small indeed. Our way is
hedged in more closely than we are apt to imagine ;
and the freedom with which we flatter ourselves is
checked and controlled by arrangements beyond
our knowledge and above our reach.

god's guidance. 67

Our deplorable ignorance as to our own way in
life, is particularly manifest wlien we consider that
whole trains of events, such as give colour to the
entire life, are often dependent on a trivial, unfore-
seen, and apparently casual occurrence. By turning
down one street of a city, instead of another, a man
may meet the person by whom the whole current of
his after life shall be determined. That Joseph,
rather than some other messenger, should have been
sent to find his brethren at Shechem ; that Ishmael-
ites on their camels should have come up in the nick
of time, and carried him a slave into Egypt ; that
the wife of Potiphar should have become his ene-
my ; and that he should have been thrown into
prison, were all what we call fortuitous and unfortu-
nate events. So far as his brethren were concerned,
their machinations were malignant ; yet were they
all threads in that wonderful web of Providence
which was partially unfolded in the four hundred
years' captivity, and more fully in the fortunes of
the Jewish nation, and the plan of redemption. "As
for you, ye thought evil against me ; but God meant
it for good, to bring to pass as it is this day, to save
much people alive." It was no very important event,
that the asses of Kish the Benjamite should have
strayed ; yet this fact gave Israel a king. It was as
unimportant that youthful David should go to see
his brothers at the camp in Elah ; yet this led to the
slaughter of Goliath, and a change of the dynasty.
The Ahithophels, Machiavellis, Eichelieus, and Met-
ternichs think otherwise. But the great Oxenstierna

68 CONSOLATION.

was right, when lie said, " See, my son, with how
little wisdom the Avorld is governed !" In another
sense, it is governed with infinite wisdom; but
God's. In his hand, a diamond necklace may cost
a queen her head, and destroy a kingdom : a king,
who has been deliberately shot at again and again,
may, by forbidding one banquet, close a dynasty.
And every day of our lives events are taking place,
of which, at the time, we make no account, but
which, in God's providence, are the pivots on which
revolves our whole subsequent history. Yet the
very smallness of these occurrences, as well as our
ignorance of their bearings, would for ever prevent
our arranging or ordering them.

Even of those things which, in a limited sense,
may be said to be within our j)ower, we are to a
great degree ignorant whether they are good or evil,
whether to be chosen or refused. It is true, even to
a proverb, that what we consider prosperity and
success, often results in lasting evil; and as true,
that the highest earthly hajDpiness results from events
which at the time are considered disastrous. And
this is more strikingly evinced, when we regard the
moral consequences of such occurrences, and observe
that prosperity injures the soul, and that the richest
spii'itual blessings are connjected with suffering, dis-
appointment, and defeat. How would it be possi-
ble for us to choose or to refuse such things, if the
question were left to our own forecast ? Suppose, for
example, that any man were to sit down to map out the
course of future life for himself. Is it not almost cer-

god's guidance. 69

tain that Ms draught would exclude all distresses
and trials ? Yet we know upon divine authority,
that these are absolutely necessary to the discij^line
of the heart, and the development of Christian char-
acter. But who could undertake to insert them in
due measure, and at the proper points ? What hu-
man tongue would not falter in saying, At such a
time I shall be laid on a bed of wasting sickness.
At such a time I shall be bereaved of a beloved
child, or of an invaluable companion. Here I shall
suffer contempt and calumny ; and there I shall be
vexed with indescribable temptations. How truly
do we find it, that the way of man is not in
himself !

What has been said is true, upon the just suppo-
sition, that man is incompetent to choose that course
which is best for him : but even if we should grant
him this competency, his case would be little altered,
because he is able in but a slio-ht deo:ree to effect
that which he may choose. Man knows not how
much he can effect. Boast as we may of the power
of human determination, the ordering of the events
which concern us, is altogether out of ourselves.
As we gaze with interest on a new-born babe, we
can no more predict what shall be the tenor of its
history, than we can declare, as we look into a moun-
tain-spring, what the river shall be which is to issue
from it. The stream may pursue a dii'ect course to
its termination, or it may turn and wander a thou-
sand times. It may go noiselessly through sandy
plains of ease, and stagnate in broad shallows of

10 CONSOLATION.

carnal sloth, or it may force its way tlirougli cliffs
of opposition, dasli over cataracts of passion, and
reach tlie ocean after a way of perpetual turbulence.
The greatest events of our lives, are those in which
we have no option. It is not left to man's determi-
nation in what age of the world he shall be born ;
whether in Christian or in savage land ; whether poor
or rich, whether feeble or hardy ; whether a genius
or a fool ; whether he shall enjoy parental care, or
be an orphan ; whether he shall dwell in a realm of
peace, or have his whole character and actions
moulded by revolution and w^ar. And we might
carry out the enumeration to a thousand particulars,
each bearing directly on his happiness.

It would seem to be the intention of God, that
the lives of men should differ as much as their coun-
tenances, and that each should be checkered by the
most unexpected occurrences. The beautiful biogra-
phies of the Old Testament reveal to us the hand
of God, leading the patriarchs and other holy men
along a perpetual pilgrimage, in which they are as
really without self-direction as was Israel in the wil-
derness. Surely the way of Abram was not in him-
self, when God called him out of the East, led him
into Canaan, and into Egypt, and through a long
life gave him no inheritance, no, not so much as to
set his foot on. The wanderings of Jacob were as
little under his own control. When the twin chil-
dren, Esau and Jacob, were born, no aspect of the
heavens could have shown that their course of life
should run in streams so divergent and unlike. Mo-

god's guidance. Yl

ses, and Gideon, and David, are instances quite as
wortliy of our meditation. But we liave only to
look back upon our own little biography, however
quiet and uneventful that history may have been,
to learn, that of the great body of events, very few
have been at our own disposal. A higher wisdom
hath determined the times before aj^pointed, and
the bounds of our habitation ; hath ordered how
we should be educated ; the time of our conversion ;
the field of our labour ; the afflictions which have
entered into our discipline, and the stations which
we now occupy. The picture for the last year has
for its chief lights and shades, events as totally in-
dependent of our will as the eclipse or the earth-
quake. Nor can you prognosticate the occurrences
of this very day, any more certainly than the course
of the winds.

But by the way of man, we mean surely more
than that chain of occurrences which strikes the
senses. There is an inner life, which, though unseen,
is loftier, vaster, and more eventful. The history of
the man is the history of his immortal part. While
men look on the panorama of sensible things, the
poverty, the pleasures, the journeys, the expeditions,
the wars, the disasters, the triumphs of our race;
eyes are gazing upon us from the spiritual world, in-
tent upon those great realities which escape us, in
the pilgrimage of the spirit ; the shade and texture
of the reason ; the dangers, and crosses, and wounds
of the moral part ; the new birth of the soul ; the
mysterious assaults of principalities and powers;

Ir2 * CONSOLATION.

the sublime conflict with evil ; the armour, the tri-
umph, and the salvation. This, of a truth, is the
way of man ; and it is not in himself The wind
bio weth where itlisteth, and thou hearest the sound
thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, or
whither it goeth. The whole ordering of the means
of grace is by a sovereign hand. Appalling as the
thought is, the greatest change of which we can be
the subjects, is beyond our reach. We may deny,
murmur, and even rage ; the truth is eternal : I will
have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will
have compassion on whom I will have compassion.
So then it is not of him that willeth, nor of him that
runneth, but of God that showeth mercy. The
most placid hfe of the most secluded Christian is so
pregnant with spiritual events, as to be a little world
of itself. And these events, linked in with eternal
destiny, are not of the creature's choosing. Enter
for a little while into the mysterious chambers of
memory, and contemplate the shadows of departed
things which flit across those walls. How unfore-
seen— how strange ! Was it your wisdom or your
will which ordered that for so many years, through
so great temptations, you should go on offending
God, and resisting his commandments ; that mean-
while you should ever and anon be checked and
wounded by the visitation of convincing truth ;
that, at a certain moment, you should be called of
God, and illuminated by his Holy Spirit ; that you
should hear such a preacher, or alight on such a
text, or receive such an admonition ; that you should

god's guidance. TS

encounter sucli temptations, have sucli joys, fall into
such sins, be called to such labours, and endure
such sorrows ; in a word, that you should be this
very hour receiving, for good or evil, the impres-
sions of which you are now conscious ? No, my
reader ; no ! you feel the hand of sovereignty in
all this : and such has been the case with all the
people of God. How much agency, think you, had
any of the three thousand Pentecostal hearers, in
adjusting their several plans, and journeys, and de-
votions, so as to be pricked in heart, at that moment,
by the preaching of Peter ? How much agency had
Saul of Tarsus, lately an assistant in the murder of
Stephen, and now hasting to Damascus to imbrue
his hands in fresh martyrdoms, in causing himself
to be smitten to the earth, a rejDentant soul ? How
much agency had the jailer of PhilipjDi, in the
events which accompanied the midnight earthquake,
and the di^dne call which snatched him from the
yawning damnation of the suicide ? From whom,
then, proceeded these events, if not " from the
Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, nei-
ther shadow of turning ? Of his own will begat he
us with the word of truth."

The future, with which we so vainly perplex our-
selves, is perfect darkness. We know not even
where our next footsteps shall be planted. Whether
death or life, A^iether joys or temptations await us,
no wisdom can disclose to us. " Plow can a man,
then, understand his own way ?"

Are we then to fold our arms, and believing

74 CONSOLATION.

ourselves to liave no freedom, to lie still in the
arms of an inexorable fate ? By no means. Be-
tween Fate and Providence, there is just the
difference which subsists between darkness and light,
between chance and foresight, between an unreason-
ing destiny and a disposing goodness, between non-
entity and God. In the truth we urge, and in
all our exjDosition of it, while it is asserted that
man does not know and cannot direct himself, it is
implied that God does. A man's heart deviseth
his way, but the Lord directeth his steps. We are
in a labyrinth indeed, but the clew is in the hand of
inffnite wisdom and infinite love. When we least
know whither we are going, he knoweth the way
that we take. When we are unable to conceive
what good can result from our present distressing
condition, God is using us for the very j)urpose for
which he sent us into the world. The expert arti-
san, suiTounded by a thousand implements, knows
precisely the use of each ; he takes up one, and lays it
aside ; he employs each in its due time and mea-
sure, and for its right end. Just in this way does
the sovereign wisdom deal with men. And it is
no more reasonable for the human soul, than for
the material implement, to quarrel with the hand
that wields it. Assyria thought herself wise and
prudent and successful. But God saith : " Shall the
axe boast itself against him that heweth therewith,
or shall the saw magnify itself against him that
shaketh it ? as if the rod should shake itself against
them that lift it up, or as if the staff should lift up

god's guidance. 75

itself, as if it were no wood." Thus even the free
actions of the most wicked man are so governed,
that his way is not in himself, but in God. " For
the Scrij^ture saith unto Pharaoh, Even for this same
purpose have I raised thee up, that I might show
my j)ower in thee, and that my name might be
declared throughout all the earth." And in re-
gard to the crowning sin of our world, the death
of Jesus Christ, when Herod and Pontius Pilate,
with the Gentiles, and the people of Israel, were
gathered together, it was " for to do whatsoever
God's hand and counsel determined before to be
done."

But if this is true even with regard to the un-
godly, how much more may we expect it to be true
in regard to God's peculiar people, whom he has
called and sanctified, to show forth his glory.
Feeling that their way is not in themselves, they de-
light in believing that they are led from above. It
is the very law of God's dispensations, that when
his people are going they know not whither, they
are in the very path which the Master has ap-
pointed. " I will bring the blind by a way that
they knew not ; I will lead them in paths that they
have not known ; I will make darkness light before
them, and crooked things straight. These things
will I do unto them, and not forsake them." The
knowledge of this should work in us both submis-
sion and hope ; submission, because God is sovereign,
because he is wise, because he is just, because he is
omnipotent, and because all resistance and all repin-

76 CONSOLATION.

ing are fruitless and wicked ; hope, because we are
assured that all things work together for good to
them that love God, being disposed according to a
most gracious plan for accomplishing their perfec-
tion. What though he hath not confided to us his
secrets of state ? The Lord reigneth, let the earth
rejoice ! However perplexing may be the particular
case, here is a rule which covers all. " Clouds and
darkness are round about him ; righteousness and
judgment are the habitation of his throne." Even
m times as dark as those of Habakkuk, we may say
with the prophet : " Although the fig-tree shall not
blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines; the
labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall
yield no meat ; the flock shall be cut off from the fold,
and there shall be no herd in the stalls ; yet will
I rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my sal-
vation." The promise is good to every faithful soul :
" The Lord shall guide thee continually, and satisfy
thy soul in drought, and make fat thy bones : and
thou shalt be like a watered garden, and like a
spring of water, w^hose waters fail not."

We are more ready, perhaps, to recognize this
guidance of Providence under the greater than un-
der the lighter afflictions of life. Yet the misery as
well as the happiness of man is mainly the aggre-
gate of little things. When fortune is suddenly
swept away ; when disease breaks the constitution ;
when death by a single stroke makes the widow and
the orphan, the sufferer is prompt to acknowledge
that it is the visitation of God. But we live as

god's guidance. TY

if we would exempt from the general rule tlie
petty annoyances of our common days ; tlie languor
which unfits for duty ; the cloud that passes over
the spirits ; the domestic cross, the chafing of
temper in trade ; the slight, the unkindness, the for-
ge tfulness which we endure from thoughtless or
selfish fellow-creatures. 'Yet the law is univer-
sal. Not merely the journey, but every step of
the journey, is ordered. No part of our way is
left to om'selves. Resisrnation and faith behold
God in the smallest hair that' falls ; and the happiest
life is that of him who has bound together all the
aftairs of life, great and small, and intrusted them
to God. Commit thy way unto the Lord, trust also
in him, and he will bring it to pass.

The consideration of the truth, that we cannot
direct our own ways, may well serve to chastise
our sanguine expectations, with regard to the course
of our life. It is the characteristic illusion of youth,
and it varies with the temperament of the indivi-
dual, but no season of life is entirely free from it.
AYe are jDrone to look at the future, as if it all were
within our power. We plan for earthly happiness, as
if our own purpose were omnij)otent. And even sore
experience does not teach us that our arm reaches
but a little distance; and that we are subject to a
govei'uing power, which employs us as the potter
does the clay. Of the majority of the schemes and
enterprises which engage the solicitude of. the
busy world, it may be said, they include no thought
of Providence. The worldly mind, and even the

78 CONSOLATION.

Cliristian mind under wrong influences, continues its
way as if self-sufficient. "To-morrow shall be as
tMs day, and much more abundant." It is to rebuke
sucli unfounded hopes that the Apostle James says,
" Go to now, ye that say. To-day or to-morrow we
will go into such a city, and continue there a year,
and buy and sell, and get gain : whereas ye know
not what shall be on the morrow. For what is
your life ? It is even a vapour, that appeareth for
a little time, and then vanisheth away. For that
ye ought to say. If the Lord will, we shall live, and
do this or that. But now ye rejoice in your boast-
ings : all such rejoicing is evil." Such was the joy
and such the boasting of the rich man in the para-
ble, as he surveyed the extent of his crops : " I will
say to my soul. Soul, thou hast much goods laid up
for many years, take thine ease, eat, drink, and be
merry." But God said unto him, " Thou fool ! this
night shall thy soul be required of thee." To hope,
indeed, is our privilege and our duty, but our hope
must be in God. Men are fond of talking about
being the architects of their own fortune, and our
ears are wearied with hearing of " self-made men ;"
but unless the Lord build the house, they labour
in vain that build it. Hope itself becomes more
secure, and energy is more constant, when they are
founded on the belief that all is under the Almighty
guidance. Our happiness in duty is greatest, when
we feel that we are conducted through all our
changes by an overruling power, which uses us for
ends far above our comprehension.

god's guidance. To

But such is tlie tendency of erring man to go
from one extreme to another, that while at one mo-
ment we are inflated with idle hopes, at the next
we are cast down by as idle fears. The doctrine
now under consideration serves to repress our need-
less apprehension of coming evil. Ever attempting
to pry into the future, we make to ourselves a thou-
sand troubles which never exist but in these sickly
imaginations. The foreknowledge of such as are
really to befall us, would be enough to crush us ;
and God has wisely and mercifully concealed from
us that which is to come. It is a fine conception of
our great poet, when Michael sets before Adam the
future history of the world, to represent our pro-
genitor as exclaiming in anguish :

" O visions ill foreseen ! better had I
Lived ignorant of future, so had borne
My part of evil only, each day's lot
Enough to bear.

Let no man seek
Henceforth to be foretold what shall befall
Him or his children ; evil he may be sure,
Which neither his foreknowing can prevent,
And he the future evil shall no less
In apprehension than in substance feel,
Grievous to bear."

But not content with forecasting those ills which
shall occur, we imagine a thousand which never ar-
rive. By such perverse musings men may press
into a few days all those evils which God has mer-
cifully parcelled out through a lifetime. And as
there are innumerable trials which cause more dis-

80 CONSOLATION.

tress in tlie fear than in the endurance, we lade our-
selves, not only with those which shall be, but with
a hundred-fold more which are the mere creatures
of our apprehension. Such a temper is to be cor-
rected, by considering that the way of man is not
in himself All such cares are needless. They do
not avail in the slightest degree to avert or lessen
the ills which come, or to strengthen us for the
burden. They fill up time, and' absorb thoughts and
energies which should be bestowed upon the duties
of the day. In this connection, how pure, heavenly,
and reviving are the directions of our blessed Sa-
viour ; how infinitely above the reach of worldly
philosophy ; how consistent with the highest wis-
dom ! Sending us for our lesson to the fowls of the
air and the lilies of the field, he says : '' Take there-
fore no thought for the morrow : for the morrow
shall take thought for the things of itself. SufiScient
unto the day is the evil thereof." We shall be
wiser, holier, and happier, if we resign ourselves and
all our affairs to the disposition of divine Provi-
dence ; assured that he who loves us better than
we love ourselves, will lay nothing upon us which
is not for our good. Let not a thought of chance
intrude, even in respect to the smallest concerns.
" Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing ? and
one of them shall not fall on the ground without
your Father. But the very hairs of your head are
all numbered."

If then we may use this doctrine to correct
at once our unreasonable hopes and our unreason-

god's GUrDAITCE. 81

able fears, we may also derive from it tlie habit of
conducting our whole life with a reference to the
leadings of Providence. Since it is not in man to
direct his steps, let him seek the direction of God.
And this direction is twofold ; that of providential
indications, and that of revealed duty. We are not
left without signs in the course of events concerning
us, which serve to show where our path lies. The
traveller may not be able to see very far before
him ; but when he has made one cautious step, he
is generally permitted to see where the next should
be placed. Even in the night of storm, this direc-
tion is sometimes afforded by the very lightning
which alarms him. We must not mistake our
own wishes and fears, our likes and dislikes, our
worldly ease and interest for the leadings of Provi-
dence ; but we may with justice examine every pro-
posed stej), with reference to om^ character, talents,
age, station, and circumstances.

But still more imjDortant is it to regard the path
of duty as the path of Providence. The revelation
of God's will in the Scriptures is our pillar of cloud
and of fire. When we go where this directs, we
cannot but go aright. " This is the way, walk ye
in it." " The testimony of the Lord is sure, making
wise the simple." " Thy word is a lamp unto my
feet, and a light unto my path."

If instead of so often asking what is agreeable, or
tending to worldly happiness, we were constantly to
ask what is duty, we should attain greater holiness,
greater usefulness, and greater peace of mind. Our

82 CONSOLATION.

greatest glory is conformity to tlie will of God. As
our ways are not our own, we must eventually
bow to tliat will, whether willingly or unwillingly
However, therefore, a temporary departure from
duty may seem to promise good, we may rest upon
it, as the immutable truth of God, that " wisdom's
ways are ways of pleasantness."

Let me now inquire, is it not in the highest
degree encouraging to be thus assured, that dark as
the future is, in regard to our apprehensions, it is
not in the minutest particular uncertain in the mind
of God ? His eye discerns our whole path, even to
the end ; nay, his hand has marked it out. After
our greatest efforts, and in spite of our greatest re-
sistance, we do but float upon the mighty stream of
his Providence. All that is past, and all that is to
come, including every action, suffering, sentiment,
and thought, all is carried forward by him to a con-
summation as beatific for us as it is glorious for our
Maker.

Let me say, in recapitulation ; we have found it
involved in our doctrine, that our present life is a state
of discipline, in which we know not the end for
which God is fitting us, nor our own need of such and
such particular trials; that being ignorant of the
end, we must needs be ignorant of the way ; that we
know not what to choose or what to refuse, if
events were left to our option ; that even in cases
where we have such knowledge, we have little
power to accomplish what we may choose ; that the

I

god's guidance. 83

events on whicli our wliole life, especially our spir-
itual life, turns, are beyond our control ; and tliat
tlie future, with all its contingencies, is entii^ely hid-
den from us. But we have seen, on the other hand,
that if man cannot direct his own ways, they are
dii-ected by God; from which we have derived
these practical lessons : to be submissive under
trials, to moderate our hopes, to repress our fears,
and to follow the leadings of Providence.

It seems a proper conclusion to this essay to
add, that in a future state, we have reason to be-
lieve, the children of God will be admitted to see
the wisdom and the mercy of all the way by which
God has led them. What our Saviour said to
Peter may, perhaps, in a certain sense, be said to
every believer: "What I do thou knowest not
now, but thou shalt know hereafter." It is not too
much to think, that when God shall have made up
all his jewels, and the number of the elect shall be
complete, he will make it a part of their haj)piness
to look back from the height of heaven upon all
theu^ winding track, and to see that every step has
been ordered in infinite love ; that their sorest trials
have been merciful; that their freest choices have
been links in God's chain of purjDose ; that their
very sins have been overruled for good. And if
this shall appear amazing in the history of an' in-
dividual, how shall it shine resplendent in the na-
tions of them that are saved, when ten thousand
times ten thousand intermingling and entangled
lives shall visibly accord with one infinite plan, and

84 CONSOLATION.

centre in one sovereign purpose ! Tlie great end of
Creation and Providence and Grace is God's own
glory. This will be made manifest at tlie grand con-
summation. But in nothing will this more shine
than when it shall appear that the voluntary, and
even the wicked acts of innumerable creatures, all
concur in the accomplishment of God's purposes;
and that in proportion as man's way has not been
in himself, in the same proportion has the magnifi-
cent plan been carried to completion.

There is a wonderful display of wisdom and
power in material nature ; and if we regard each
star, even in the milky way, as the centre of a
system, we are overwhelmed with the consideration
of so many orbs, all moving agreeably to a uniform
law, and circling their respective courses for ages
without confusion. Yet still more astonishing, and
still more glorious will it be, when at the last it
shall appear, that of the millions of redeemed souls,
each has been the free originator of thoughts and
volitions ; that these have flowed from each in a
perpetual stream ; that they have conflicted with
one another, and conflicted with the preceptive will
of God ; that, nevertheless, all have contributed to
the happiness of the saved world, and the glory of
the Almighty. Then shall be heard the song of
Moses, the servant of God, anti the song of the
Lamb : " Great and marvellous are thy works. Lord
God Almighty; just and true are thy .ways, thou
King of saints."

THE OMNIPOTENCE OF GOD A GROUND

OF ENLARGED CHRISTIAN

EXPECTATION.

IV.

IF any are dissatisfied witli the Cliristian religion,
it is because of tlieir own ignorance or perverse-
ness. It is impossible to conceive of any higher
good, than that which the Gospel offers to every
human being who hears it. Nothing has so revealed
the capacities of the soul, as Christianity ; all the
speculations of antiquity are trifling in comparison :
and these capacities seem to be revealed for the very
purpose of exalting our delightful expectations, as
to their being filled. When Christianity would lay
a foundation for our hopes, it does not build on any
doubtful analogies, but digs deep, and shows us the
solid rock of God's infinite perfections ; saying, as it
were. If you would know what you shall receive,
think what God is — how great and how good. " All
is yours, and ye are Christ's, and Christ is God's."
And we have endeavoured to set this forth, from the
beginning, as the true ground of all rational comfort
in religion. For if our distresses and trials do not
drive us to seek support in the attributes of God,
they do not afford us any benefit. The ground of
all our hopes is God's love, manifested to the world
in the gift of his only begotten Son. From this

88 CONSOLATION.

source we cannot expect too mucli. Hence you will
uniformly observe, tliat those wlio dwell most on
tlie person and work of Clirist, have the brightest
prospects of future blessedness. And the apostle
Paul uses a fervent prayer, that those to whom he
wrote, might attain to the knowledge of this love of
Christ, by means of which they would learn the
riches of their destined inheritance.

The apostle Paul breaks forth in a mingled dox-
ology and prayer, when writing to the Ephesians :
"Now unto Him that is able to do exceeding
abundantly above all that we ask or think." God
is thus able ; and thus his omnipotence is a ground
of consolation.

I. God's omnipotence and grace, authorize us to
expect from him blessings beyond our comprehen-
sion. The little child takes a pleasure in learning
its father's riches, because it knows that this is all
for its own advantage, and it never dreams of the
parent's being restrained from giving by any thing
but want of means. In like manner the Christian
who has any right views of God as a Father, and of
his relation to God, only needs to be informed that
God is Almighty to be assured that he will bestow
all good. Hence meditation on the omnipotence
of God is greatly edifying, not only as it raises us to
high thoughts of the adorable divine character,
but as it assures us of the infinite sufficiency there
is in him. To say that God is able, is to say that
he is willing. This method of proceeding from
his disposition to his nature, from his goodness to his

god's omnipotence. 89

greatness, of presuming on Ms love and tlien com-
forting ourselves witli his power, is more pleas-
ing than the reverse. For it is dreadful to have
a full view of God's power, and at the same time
to be in doubt whether it is not all arrayed against
us. The impression of this is what gives triple
horrors to hours of conviction, when some poor dis-
mayed soul is brought into the presence of infinite
sovereignty, might, and wrath, but as yet has no
ray of hope. Very different is the view which
prompted the words of Paul : " Unto him that is
cible to do," — as if he had said. Once comdnce me
that God is ahle to make me hapjDy, and I am con-
tent : of his disposition to bless, I can have no doubt.
The apostle does not say God is willing : this was
unnecessary.

You will possibly have a reply ready, to wit, that
nobody doubts God's power : all who believe in a
God, believe, he is almighty. But it is important to
observe, that there are many great truths which we
do not deny, and which, nevertheless, we do not
believe ; and again, that there are degrees of faith,
from the faintest assent, of which we are scarcely
conscious, up to the full assurance of certainty. If
nothing were necessary but to know and admit the
general propositions of religious truth, much of our
preaching, hearing, reading, and meditation would
be superfluous ; but we must keep the mind's eye
fixed on these truths until our knowledge becomes
more intimate, extensive, and spiritual, and our faith
grows with contemplation. Thus, while we sit and

90 CONSOLATION.

look eastward, like those that watch for the morn-
ing, we behold, first the dawn, then the sunrise, then
the bright morning, and then the blazing noon.
This is especially true of God's attributes. We
know them. The terms which exjDress them are
simple enough. Our first catechisms give us almost
all we need to have exj^ressed in the way of defini-
tion. Nevertheless, what a world of knowledge is yet
to be compassed on any one of those points ! And
how does he who meditates on a divine perfection
seem to go forth on a voyage from which there is no
return ! In this way the power of God, however fami-
liar and admitted, requires to be mused u]3on and tra-
versed in our thoughts ; as the astronomer by nightly
observations, repeated for years, tries to penetrate the
wonders of the heavens ; though the object which
tasks his powers and arouses his curiosity is some
nebula familiar to his eye from early youth. It is
wise to ponder upon known truth, and he who never
practises it will make slender attainments in new
discovery. It was well for Paul to turn the gaze of
the Ephesians upon the wonders of God's power —
God " is able to do ;" and to connect it with that
love of Christ and fulness of God, of which he
had just been speaking (Ephes. 3 : 20). There is a
little cleft of heaven opened to us by these words,
and some light breaks in.

Hope is a pleasant thing, even when it concerns
itself about temporals ; but when it overleaps the
fences of time and space, and begins to expatiate in
eternity ; when it forecasts the condition of a soul

god's omnipotence. 91

let loose from tlie body ; wlien it presses towards
the lapse of ages, all blissful and ever growing in
the capacity for holy delights; when it pictures
heaven, and successive births of soul into new lives
of joy and love, cycle after cycle, then it Ijecomes
the angelic harbinger of God's presence. The true
foundation for such hope is in God. There can be
none other. To this the apostle dii-ectSigpie ^dew :
^' To him that is able to do exceeding abundantly."
It is because God the Lord is God, and our God and
Kedeemer, that we have such largeness of expecta-
tation. The measure of our hopes is the degree of
God's ability. This is startling, but undeniable, and
full of matter for thought. " If I (a believer) am
not happy, it will be because God is not able to
make me so." Here, indeed, is consolation. Noth-
ing so enlarges the horizon of our expectations, as to
place our hoj)es on divine perfections. He " that is
able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we
ask or think," places us on an eminence of observa-
tion, from which we may look out on the wide sea
of future good, and find no shore or limitation.
This, if any thing, will lift a man above the world,
and inspire a heroism into his Christianity.

The people of the world go through their pil-
grimage in a poor ignoble manner, analogous to the
beasts which do not lift their heads above the pas-
ture in which they browse. Men whose portion is
in this life very commonly put off thinking about
any portion in the life to come, till they feel their
hold on present things loosening. Duiing middle

92 CONSOLATION.

life and activity, it is really wonderful liow our suc-
cessful and busy citizens contrive to keep out
thoughts of God and religion. Every few days
there is a funeral of some old friend ; these come
faster and faster, as we go down the hill ; neigh-
bours attend these with proper solemnity, and look
into the open vault, as if their thoughts were full of
eternity.i^No such thing ! they have acquired the
art of locking God out of his creation ; their minds
are busy about the obsequies, or the estate of the
deceased, or whether his will shall be contested, or
their own loss of time, or the next piece of scn^did
business. They do not like to retain God in their
knowledge ; they know they have nothing to expect
from him. A high impenetrable wall blocks up the
further side of their worldly prospects. What is
beyond is to them as if it were not. What though
God has plainly set on record certain things about
that coming state ; what though .hundreds whom
they knew have lifted that curtain and left the
stage ; what though they are certain, that after a few
days, they must make the plunge into the awful un-
seen world ; all these things fail to arouse them. JSTo
sweet hope gilds the western horizon towards which
their sun is sinking. No refreshing prelibations of
those heavenly pleasures cheer them in their j^resent
j ourney. They have resolved to make the most of this
life ; to live as if this were all ; to keep God out of
their thoughts ; if not (as the great infidel said of
death) " to make a leap in the dark." I have gone
aside to this allusion, because it throws the strong

god's omnipotence. 93

liglits of contrast on tlie prevalent expectations of
God's cliildren. Tliere is a low, cowardly disposi-
tion in certain Christians to seek the world's patron-
age, and almost ask the world's pardon, for their re-
ligion. Are they invited to some questionable
amusement ? they stammer out their apology of be-
ing Christ's, as a mean-spirited spendthrift would
own the slenderness of his purse. Are they cen-
sured for not loving this world enough ? they plead
religious custom or church-rule, or the opinion of
friends, instead of glorpng in their birthright in
the world to come. That which they should bind
to them as a garland and a diadem, and should hold
forth as an irresistible inducement for sinners to
come over to their side, they sometimes hide in a
corner, and blush to have suspected.

True, healthy, living religion takes a different
view of these matters : would God we had more of
it ! The believer walks by faith : have you con-
sidered what this means ? It is faith which realizes
the unseen, and presents the future. The believer
walks about this world as a foreigner walks among
the sounding colonnades of some marble palace ; it is
fair ; it awakens his momentary curiosity, but what
is it to him ! To-morrow he is going away towards
his beloved home. The Christian goes through this
life under the overhanging influence of a spiritual
state, and the incomparable attraction of a glory yet
to be revealed. The very indistinctness of his vision,
in respect to that fair country, increases his desires.
" It doth not yet appear what we shall be." But

94 CONSOLATION.

tliougli tlie details of tlie future inlieritance are not
communicated to us, the principle and source of it
is. A cliild who knows that he is an heir, and that
his father has boundless stores, knows enough for
his happiness, though ignorant of the precise locality
of his estates. God is ctble to do — on that he
rests. In this is abiding consolation. Here the soul
can be firm. Were this constantly in our thoughts,
we should be buoyed up amidst the waves of
trouble.

We sometimes (if sincere seekers) busy^ ourselves
in thinking of what may be in reserve for us, in that
long, long existence which awaits us, and muse on
the changes, the unfoldings, the ascendings, the en-
largements, of which we shall be subjects, as those
ages roll on. We sometimes try to imagine what
these souls may become, and to speculate upon what
infinite goodness, expressed in the gift of the Son
and his death on the cross, may have in reserve for
us. But all these thoughts of ours fall far below the
measure of what God is able to do. Sometimes,
again, in more devotional moments, our meditations
take the form of request, and we undertake to ask
of God to do this and that for us, in this life and
in the life to come. But what poor, broken igno-
rant petitions, for the most part ; if we could only
compare them with the glory that is to be revealed in
us. As if an infant should be craving a feather or
a flower, when the j^arent is preparing for it a king-
dom. "We know not how to pray, nor what to
pray for as we ought." Thoughts and prayers are

95

botli togetlier swallowed up and drowned in tlie
depths of God's power and goodness ; for " lie is
able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we
ask or think." The word used in that passage is
peculiar, " out of measure — surpassingly, or tran-
scendently," breaking OA^er all bounds of our com-
prehension. You will feel its force more when you
take along with you the whole of the preceding
glowing context, wherein the language labours and
is forced into seeming solecisms, in order to indicate
the great ideas. We have to comprehend the in-
comprehensible, and to measure the immense, and
to sound the unfathomable; "to know the love of
Christ, which passeth knowledge ;" to comprehend
with all saints the dimensions of that which stretches
beyond all human lines — the " love of Christ." As
in the place in Ephesians, the measure of what
God will give is his power ; so in the preceding verse,
the measure is the love of Christ; and both are
summed up in that amazing expression (v. 19) : "all
the fulness of God !"

It is with no niggardly hand that our Eedeem-
ing Lord scatters these flowers of Hope along our
path. We are not straitened in him. We cannot
hope too much, provided we hope for right things.
And while the promise of the New Testament is
reserved in the extreme, as to the gift of earthly
things, except so far as they minister to godliness,
the gates of heaven are high and wide, and opening
into boundless vistas of eternal heavenly things. " Eye
hath not seen, nor ear hear'd, neither have entered

96 . CONSOLATION.

into tlie heart of man, tlio things whicli God Iiatli
prepared for tliem that love him : but God hath re-
vealed them unto us by his Spirit; for the Spirit
searcheth all things, yea, the deep tilings of Gocir 1
Cor. 2 : 9. These " deeps of God" are the profound
of his nature and perfections, on which our hopes
are dependent. The wliole of tlie future is con-
cerned in these anticipations. For while we need
not wait till after death for them to begin, but may
from the present ■ moment have some earnest, so
neither need we look on them as ending with this
life, but as breaking into new, vast, and inconceiv-
able expansions in the life which is to come. For
God "is able to do exceeding abundantly above all
that we ask or think."

II. Of the greatness of these hopes, perhaps,
enough has been said. It is proper that we should
consider their quality. The object of the expecta-
tion is vast, but of what nature 1 Are they Epicu-
rean, Elysian, Mohammedan, sensual, carnal, philo-
sophic, infidel enjoyments, which we look for ? By
no means ! Such images and desires would argue a
mind utterly void of true spiritual illumination and
taste. No Christian can begin too soon to ascertain
his standard of good ; and it must be moral, spir-
itual, eternal, and divine. He looks for that which
resides in the soul, that which flows from God, that
which is wrought by the Spirit. Let it be deeply
graven on our minds, that all God's dealings with
us, from I'egeneration onwards, through all eternity,
is a discipline, a moulding, a training, an education.

god's omnipotence. 97

This is sought by all convictions, all applications of
truth, all mercies, all chastisements, all that sancti-
fies us, by our very death, and yet more fully and
gloriously by the unex23lained communications of
heaven. His purpose is to render us holy, to raise
us to the perfection of our being, and to make us
partakers of a divine nature. The work has com-
menced, and will never cease. " He that hath be-
gun a good work in you, will perform it until the
day of redemption." He is ahle to perform it, be-
yond all our thoughts and prayers, yea, exceedingly
beyond them all ; and to search how, or to what
extent, would be to search "the deep things of
God.'' We are lost in a labyrinth of thoughts, yet
not without a clew. This we do know, that the
great thing is the spiritual work of the Holy
Ghost upon the mind and heart, begun here, and
completed, or rather carried ever onward hereafter.
All things are subsidiary to this. Whatever relates
to our bodies, our friends, our circumstances, our
temporal weal or woe, our gladness or our tears,
whatever is passing and external, is subordinate to
this great end ; and we miss the true point of our
expectations from God when we anxiously look to
him for any thing short of being made " partakers
of his holiness."

The more sound our ex]3erience, the more pure
our piety, the more shall we understand that " this
is the will of God, even our sanctification." This is
the heaven we desire. We shall love it, an4 exult
in it, in proportion as we love God, and exult in
7

98 CONSOLATION.

God. Herein " the cMldren of God are manifest
and the children of the devil." The children of
God have a supreme taste for likeness to God :
this is their chosen blessedness. The children of the
devil have no such taste. They desire the inciden-
tal benefits of religion; such as escape from hell,
and from the dread of it ; also supports and conso-
lations under sorrows of life ; but they must own
that renovation of nature, and the restored image of
God, awaken none of their sensibilities. The soul
that is born again is filled with expectations, which,
however undefined, are at once spiritual and glori-
ous. " Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and
it doth not yet appear what we shall be ; but we
know that when He shall appear we shall be like
him ; for we shall see him as he is." The nature of
the object, then, which fixes our hopes is conformed
to the nature of the God who inspires it.

III. This glory is already hegim in true Gliris-
iians^ and these beginnings are the pledge, earnest,
and foretaste of what God will bestow hereafter.
That exceeding abundant blessing which he is able
to confer is set forth to us by what he is now con-
ferring. For that which he will do is " according to
the power that worketh in us." We do not suffi-
ciently consider this. We are already under a divine
influence, the same mighty power which regenerates
and which will save. We are already born into
this new life, and are under the daily operations of
a grace which performs miracles of love, and works
transformations altogether beyond the power of

god's omnipotence. 99

nature. We are prone to undervalue changes which
do not fall under the observation of sense. But
creation itself is not more marvellous than new-
creation. That this is really an object of power,
and not left merely to human volition, is proved by
our Lord's words to the disciples, when they asked,
" Who then can be saved V^ Jesus ansjvered, " That
which is impossible with men is possible with God."
In every true believer there is a work of God's
power perpetually going on, compared with which
conquests and revolutions are small and unimpor-
tant. The consciousness of this work within him,
and the perception of its results, give him some in-
timation of what God will hereafter do. In the
primitive age, the contrast was striking between
the unconverted and the convei'ted state ; hence the
marks of this divine power were more apparent, and
disciples felt that they were subjected to a power
which was manifestly di\dne. Their hopes and tri-
umphs seem to have been in proportion. Such will
generally be the case : the more we feel the renew-
ing energy at work within us, the brighter will be
our hope of what that energy will accomplish here-
after. Hence the happiness derived from a marked
and advancing Christianity, such as leaves us in no
doubt whether Christ be in us or not. There is no-
thing that can so cheer us as this inward witness ;
and there will be no limit to our hopes of the
favour which God will bestow, "according to the
power that worketh in us." These are no blind
presumptuous expectations, which we are permit-

100 CONSOLATION.

ted to clierisli witli regard to the things which
God intends for us hereafter. " God hath revealed
them unto us by his Sj^irit." He has given us some
beginnings of them in the work of grace within.
He has told us that he is able, and so told us as to
make us sure that we shall never want until his ful-
ness is exhausted. " Open thy mouth wide," saith
he, '^ and I will fill it." Look forward and contem-
plate the continuity of the work of grace. It is not
a shower at noontide, which refreshes and is gone,
but a well of water that springeth up to everlasting
life. Would you derive some useful lessons from
what has been said ? Among many, accept the fol-
lowing :

1. Here is great inducement for impenitent per-
sons to repent. Do you desire to have God on your
side ? then repent. All his power and all his good-
ness will be yours, and will be pledged to do you good.
God is ahle^ that is, God is omnipotent, signifies a dif-
ferent thing to the believer and to you. What can
you read in it, but that he is able to destroy ? and to
destroy with an intensity of destruction beyond all
your possibility of comprehension. God is armed
against you, and each of his perfections is a tower
from which irresistible assaults are made on your
happiness. The infinite and eternal opposition ])e-
tween God's holiness and your sin must make you
miserable and keep you so. There is no way to
escape this, but by coming over to God's side,
through the mediation of his Son. But let this
once take place — and how extraordinary is the

god's omitipotence. 101

result ! What ensues ? not simple amnesty, safety,
or even forgiveness : these were great, unspeakable
gifts ; but more than these, God descends, and picks
up the ]30or sunken creature from his footstool, and
presses him to his bosom. Is this enough ? No.
He wipes his tears, clothes him in white apparel,
enriches him with glory, and sets him upon a
throne. The redeemed sinner finds that all the ex-
pensive and amazing plan of redemj)tion, which has
been opening out for ages, has had for its object the
holiness and blessedness of himself, and such as he ;
and that the height which he has reached in the joy
of his Lord, at the day of judgment, is only the
starting-point, in a career of endless improvement
in all that is pure, lovely, and spiritual. I have,
throughout these remarks, taken pains to represent
the expected blessing as consisting in holiness, like-
ness to God, and communion with him. Now make
sure that this is really your aim, and you cannot by
possibility desire too much, or desire too ardently.
Nor can you form any vision of what God is ready
to communicate in these respects, which will not be
ten thousand times surpassed by the reahty.

2. Here is an aid in living above the world.
The argument is easy : Is God preparing for me
such an exaltation of holiness ? which is already be-
gun : then away with all knitting of the heart to
what is terrestrial and temporary ! Ungodly people
think that Christianity di'aws off from their pleasures
and idols, from a certain sourness and misanthropy,
or from want of capacity for such delights. On

102 CONSOLATION.

the contrary, the soul of the believer flies far away
above and beyond these surrounding trifles, and
fixes itself on the spiritual glories of the kingdom.
It is believing " things hoped for," " things unseen,"
that cast a shade on the toys of the present. " This
is the victory that overcometh the world — even
our faith." Think you that is a poor, naked, bar-
ren country, on which faith's telescope fixes itself?
Astonishing blunder ! It may be called for largeness
and beauty, and attraction — a world. " Whatso-
ever things are true, whatsoever things are honest,
whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are
pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever
things are of good report," are included in it ; and
included in perpetual development and increase.
God will go on to bless ; Christ will be more and
more the fountain of light and holiness. " Of his
fulness have we all received, and grace for grace."
Think of this, when the world tempts you. Think
what God is able to do, and will do. Think of the
work as already begun within you, if you are of his
people ; and examine carefully whether you experi-
ence the divine efficacy of " the power that work-
eth in us."

3. This subject suggests matter for our desires
and prayers. The doctrine is addressed to pray-
ing people ; " above all that we ask or think."
Unconverted persons never pray heartily and under-
standingly for genuine holiness ; but those who are
converted, if they ever pray for any thing, pray for
this. The apprehension of these spiritual realities,

god's o^inipotence. 103

in tlieir beauty and glory, does not come all at
once, and we must be satisfied if one whose eyes
are only just oj)ened sees "men as trees walking:"
but it infallibly comes, in tlie course of Christian
experience. And not more truly and earnestly
does the blind man express the topmost wish of his
heart, " Lord, that I might receive my sight !" than
the believer his longing, " O that my ways were
directed to keep thy statutes ! In an earher stage
of experience he may have been too anxious about
temporal things ; but now his sober conviction Ls,
that nothing is worth caring for, or asking of God
with any importunity, but s]3iritual and eternal
good. In the revolution of ages, the day will come,
when earthly or carnal gifts will no longer be a
blessing ; but the day will never come when truth,
holiness, love, and God's image shall be less valu-
able ; nay they will be growing in value to all
eternity. Our prayers then are most sure to be
right, and to be answered, when they are for im-
perishable things, and for what God himself regards
as real good. Praying for the future glory is the
way to be fitted for it ; and while we so pray to be
conformed to God, we are subjected to the mighty
power, mentioned by Paul, whereby he is able to
subdue all things unto himself The encourage-
ment to such prayers need not be here reheai^ed,
seeing it has been our principal topic : " God is able
to do exceeding abundantly, above all that w^e ask
or think." Nothing is more pleasing to him, than
our desires that this spiritual work should go on in

104 CONSOLATION.

US miglitily. He inspires sucli prayers, meaning to
answer tliem : I may say tliey are partly answered
in the very asking. These are moments when the
soul feels that it would rather suffer affliction than
not be sanctified, and rejoices and glories in tribula-
tion, because the experience which it derives from
them is heaven begun. There is a peculiar excel-
lency in the holy pleasures of the afflicted : it is on
the face of the wilderness that this manna falls.
And there cannot be named a pursuit or enterprise
of human beings, in which there is so little possibi-
lity of failure as praying for sanctification. God is
able to do above your asking.

4. Such exjDectations from God's greatness and
goodness may well sustain us amidst the trials of
life. If these are sharp, so as to put our utmost pa-
tience to the proof, we may look forward towards
the immensity of the promise. We may have loss-
es ; but till they avail to take away our God, they can-
not effectually cloud the glorious prospect. Though
we have seen the blessings promised to belong chief-
ly to the spiritual and eternal world, yet we are not
to sujopose that our heavenly Father is indifferent
to the condition of his children during the course of
their present pilgrimage. The hairs of their head
are all numbered, and the bounds of their habita-
tion are chosen. Even in regard to this life, he is
able to do more than they ask or think. He can
draw off the hea^^ clouds which obscure their skies ;
nay, he will certainly do so at the very first moment
when it shall consist with his infinite plan of mercy.

god's omnipotence. 105

Thus lie caused the dark day of Jacob's affliction un-
der his supposed bereavement, to brighten into an
evening of peace and joy. Thus the unexampled
losses of Job were followed by equally unexampled
indemnity. Yet after all that we may concede, as to
the profit of godlmess in the present life, its chief
expectations fix themselves on that which is to come ;
and these exceeding great and precious promises are
the headspring of every believer's comfort. To these
he can come, when all cisterns are dry. This
is blessedness in days of poverty, pain, and be-
reavement. Like the ancient prophet, he still says,
" Yet will I rejoice in the Lord : I will joy in the
God of my salvation." The more enlarged his views
of the Divine power and faithfulness, the more will
he expect ; and the brighter his expectations are,
the less will he feel the weight of present burdens.
If our afflictions are hea^^, and sometimes intolera-
ble, it is because we dwell too little in thoughts of
the glory which is to be revealed. What but this
enabled the Christian martyrs, in the primitive age,
to endure excruciating penalties, and death in its
most hideous forms, but the confidence they had in
God's ability and readiness to admit them into his
exceeding joy ? If for a moment their belief of
the truth we are considering could have wavered,
they would have fainted, and given way under the
vehemence of theii^ torments. That which can sup-
port a man under the assaults of the chief and last
enemy, even death, can surely hold him up under
foregoing and lesser trials. But we know by edify-

106 CONSOLATION.

ing observation at tlie bedsides of tlie dying, that
large expectation from God's power and love can
thus sustain ; at a juncture when it were madness to
look for any thing from earthly sources. All which
should encourage us to study the riches of God's
omnipotent mercy, as a resource when heart and
flesh fail.

In grief and pain, when frail nature is ready to
succumb, this doctiine of God's ability to relieve
and save comes like a cordial to the soul. It cannot
deceive, because its foundation reaches down to the
rocky and eternal base of all excellency and all being.
Till divinity itself shall change, this must remain
the firm consolation of the believer. And his peace
will be in proportion to his faith : whence it is to
be inferred, that we should have more ample pro-
vision for the seasons of sorrow, if in our times of
prosperity we were more engaged in profound medi-
tation on the attributes of God. The sovereisni
Author of Grace, who observes a holy order in his
dispensations to the church, is not wont to pour his
richest solace over the souls of those who have
sought him negligently, or who have been driven to
seek him only on the access of calamity. Even to
these he shows himself to be a God of mercy ; but
his largest gifts of consolation are to those who have
learned to make him their refuge before the tempest
began to howl. True believers, educated by a long
discipline to expect from God, turn to him in the
hour of sorrow, as naturally as the infant to the
mother's bosom. They know whom they have be-

107

lieved. Their confidence in this new emergency is
only tlie exercise of a trust whicli lias been the habit
of their sunnier days. Long ago they have settled
their hearts in the firm persuasion, that God is able to
do exceeding abundantly above their prayers or con-
ceptions. The Holy Spirit, the Comforter, takes of
these familiar truths, and makes them effectual in
the hour of tribulation. Though there be no more
sign of deliverance than for Abraham, when his
hand was raised to sacrifice his son, they are strong
in faith, giving glory to God. Though Divine Wis-
dom cast an impenetrable curtain over all the ways
and means of escape, they flee with confidence to
the infinite attributes of him in whom they have
trusted. And when every hope on this side of
heaven has failed, they can still rejoice in the mar-
vels of loving mercy which their Lord stands ready
to display in the coming eternity.

5. Here is ground for high praise to God for
this infinite love. The text is brought in as a
doxology; see verse 21. The apostle strikes a note
of thanksgiving, that is to be endless in the church,
militant and triumphant. All ages shall be full of
the " praise of the glory of his grace." In our pres-
ent state we are most ready to express gratitude for
temporal deliverances and mercies ; but in the future
state, we shall find these all swallowed up in the
blessing of salvation, and shall understand salvation
better, as being the hfe of God; the subduing of
the win unto his ; the growing like our Maker and
Redeemer ; and the higher and higher reaches of

108 CONSOLATION.

knowledge and love. The longer we live the life
of heaven, the better shall we know what we have
to give thanks for; because we shall know better
what God is, and be nearer to him, and more fully-
acquainted with the wonders of his universe, and
the richness of his wisdom. Here, we do but bab-
ble like infants about these things ; " we know in
part, and we prophesy in part ;" " but when that
which is perfect is come, then that which is in part
shall be done away." Here we form lojv concep-
tions of what our Heavenly Father is able to do ;
and we can give thanks only according to our know-
ledge : but as our comprehension of di\dne grace
and glory increases, we shall fall down on the gold-
en pavement in speechless rapture of gratitude.
But ah ! how difficult is it to speak prudently of
things beyond our experience. Let us be modest„
in regard to what is not revealed. Of particulars
we know nothing ; of the general truth we are cer-
tain. God will never let drop that work in the
soul, which he has taken in hand. " Now unto him
that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all
that we ask or think, according to the power that
worketh in us, unto him be glory in the church, by
Christ Jesus, throughout all ages, world without
end. Amen."

THE GOODNESS OF GOD A REFUGE IN
TIME OF TROUBLE.

IN every age, perhaps we miglit even say in every
Christian experience, there are junctures in which
it is difficult to reconcile the dispensations of provi-
dence with the goodness of God. The controversy
began in the patriarchal days, and is the grand argu-
ment of the book of Job. "Wherefore do the
wicked live, become old, yea, are mighty in power ?"
Job 21 : Y. The seventy-third psalm is occujpied
with the clearing of the same paradox. Jeremiah,
pre-eminently a sorrowful man, breaks forth thus :
" Righteous art thou, O Lord, when I plead with thee,
yet let me reason the case with thee of thy judg-
ments: Wherefore doth the way of the wicked
prosper?" Jer. 12 : 1, marg. The worst men are
sometimes apparently happy, and the consequence
is, that the believer is envious at the foolish. Ene-
mies of God appear to him to succeed in every
undertaking. Wealth flows in on them; they
arrogate to themselves an exemption from all re-
verses, and feel insured even against providence;
they fill the pubHc eye, they build and decorate,
they gather about them the gay and the revelling,
they leave wealth to their children.

112 CONSOLATION.

In tlie very same view, pious men are tliouglit
to be unhappy, and beyond a doubt are afflicted.
Nothing is more true of tliem, as a class, than that
they suffer. If we look at all the retinue of believ-
ers, following Christ up the steep ascent, we behold
them bearing the cross, while the rugged path is mark-
ed by the blood of their feet, and their eyes are wet
with weeping. They come out of great tribulation.

Under the perplexities of this contemplation,
what is left for the believer in his anguish, but to
seek the resort which we have been pointing out,
and to search among God's awful attributes for some
one which may be a solace ? The name of the Lord
is a strong tower. But no gate of that fortress is
unbarred for our entrance, until we approach under
the banner of Christ. We compass the lofty, for-
bidding wall, but find no crevice open for sin. Yet
these characters of God are all we have. For look
heavenward, and consider : — If He were ignorant or
unwise, we might suffer without his knowledge, or
sink in waters which he could not explore : we might
be lost in mazes where his eye could not follow us,
or be carried away in whirlwinds which he knew not
how to quell. If he were limited in power, we might
groan under the very burden which he could not
lift off. If he were afar, in some pavilion beyond
our system, he could not be reached by our cry of
anguish when the deep waters went over our soul ;
and were he not here this moment, it would be
mockery to pray. If he were not good, our happi-
ness would be nothing to him, and we might have

god's goodness. 113

hellisli pain for ever and ever. If lie were not mer-
ciful, lie could not care how wretched we are ; and
if he wei^e not gracious, we should sink in despair,
being sinners. But because he is Almighty, All- wise,
All-seeing, Every-where-present, boundless, everlast-
ing, and unchangeable, in goodness, mercy, and com-
passion— we have in him a refuge and stronghold, to
which we may continually resort. The perfections
of God afford a refuge : and in time of trouble, faith
resorts to this refuge.

The perfections of God afford a refuge. Raise your
eyes towards the loftiness of our stronghold. But take
off the shoes from off your feet, for the place is holy
ground. As sinners, you will first be arrested by a
trait of Divinity. God is just. The Judge of all the
earth will do right. The reverse is inconceivable.
When we think of a being who can do wrong, we no
longer think of God. Nothing which he does can be
unjust, arbitrary, or hard. He smites down the ven-
erable and beloved shepherd, in the very moment
when his dearest earthly stays have been purposely
removed. Or he overwhelms in the tide of sudden
death, a mingled throng of youth and age, loveliness
and crime. Shall not the Judge of all the earth do
right ? Hush thy insane murmurs, O worm ! " Be
silent, O all flesh, before Jehovah ; for he is raised
up out of the habitation of his holiness !" Zech. 2 : 13.

We cannot imagine a motive which an Infinite

Being could have to do an act of injustice. All the

earth and all heaven unite in praising Jehovah as

righteous. But O reader, can we climb up to our

8

114 CONSOLATIOIT.

refage by tMs frowning battlement ! Nay, it is im-
pregnable. If indeed we were so far freed from per-
sonal regards as to be governed in our tliouglits and
judgments by a sense of general equity, and respect
to tlie honour of God, it is conceivable tbat we miglit
acquiesce fully in decisions of the Most Higli, wliich
should contravene our own happiness. We should
then submit to naked Justice. Some urge this as
the first step in a sinner's return; but the Bible
knows no such refinement of abstract submission : it
would, if possible, be the last and not the first step
of sanctification ; the mighty effort of the giant, not
the infant motion of the new-born soul. Let me not
for a moment be misunderstood. Submission to
God's will, and that in the most absolute sense, is
the duty of every intelhgent creature, and is a state
of mind to which the influences of the regenerating
and sanctifying Spirit infallibly lead. But there is
an order in the dispensation of gracious affections ;
and agreeably to that order it is not the first de-
mand on an unreconciled heart that it should yield
a legal submission to infinite justice, so as to be will-
^ ing to endure everlasting condemnation, however
righteous. Such a submission to naked justice is not
to be looked for in our present state, and this for
two reasons. First, because God made man a being
desirous of happiness. It is a radical principle. It
is God's own work. It is not one of those desires
which came from the poison of the forbidden tree,
but a propensity wrought into the first Adam, throb-
bing in the heart of the first Eve, actuating the holy

god's goodness. 115

pair among the trees of the garden, and appealed
to, by Jehovah, in the first threat and the first
promise. Let the metaphysical divine confront his
God in Paradise, and say whether the propensity
which is there recognized is necessarily sinful. We
are unable to think of any one as a reasonable
human being, who does not, in all possible circum-
stances, desire his own welfare. One may choose a
present evil, or relinquish a present good : but it is
in every case with the hope of avoiding some greater
e^dl, or obtaining some greater good. Speculation
has added to the words that are written in this book,
by enjoining a chimerical duty — that of being will-
ing to be eternally miserable — as impossible as it is
uncommanded. Suppose it proved that my indi-
\ddual misery for ever shall be for the greatest good
of the universe, does this make me content to suffer
misery, except under a hope of indemnification or
relief? No: the Gosj)el takes away all that is
earthly, but pours back all heaven into the bosom.
Indeed, when we closely examine this vaunted meta-
physic, it is a contradiction in terms to say that a
man desires unhappiness: inasmuch as the accom-
plishment of our desires is happiness itself There-
fore, a total disregard of private interest or indi^dd-
ual enjoyment is not commanded in all this volume.
We are to love our neighbour as ourselves. We
may then love ourselves : may ? we must love
ourselves: and self-love becomes sin only when it
becomes selfishness. The other reason why so
stoical a submission to abstract justice is not de-

116 CONSOLATION.

manded in our present state is, tliat it presupposes
an extent of knowledge more tlian human. Our
views are so limited, tliat we cannot take in all
worlds and systems and ages: yet we must take
these in, to determine what is best, wisest and most
just in the government of God. Our ignorance,
therefore, joins with our self-love, with that self-love
which Grod's finger engraved on the decalogue, and
infused into the heart, to prevent our finding a
refuge in the mere justice of God. We submit to it
as righteous ; we do not enjoy it as haj^piness, till we
join other views of God, and catch a glimpse of full-
orbed Deity in the Sun of Kighteousness.

Let us descend into our experience. A sudden
or a lingering anguish comes and kills my peace.. I
break the seal of he art- wasting tidings, or I stand
by the coffin of my first-born. The Judge of all the
earth will do right. This comes home to the under-
standing as a glorious and undeniable truth. But
then it may be right that I should be wretched.
God will act as a righteous King ; but it may be
righteous for him to make me miserable. Justice, so
far from comforting, is my terror. I look up to the
precipitous side of the fortress, and see the brist-
ling weapons of vindictive law barring my ascent.
It was right for the flaming sword to keep the gate
of Eden. It was right for the Salt Sea to surge
over Sodom, Gomorrah and Zeboim. It was right
that Judas should go to his own place. It was
right that the sword should smite the ShejDherd
when he stood for the sheep. It is right that in

god's goodness. 117

yonder lake tlie smoke of their torments goeth up
for ever and ever. It may be right that this great
pang should enter my heart from the right hand of
Infinite Justice. Nay more, not only it may be
right — but O conscience, conscience, relentless con-
science, thou ceasest not day nor night to tell me,
it is right — it cannot but be right ! I feel it to be
right. ' All within me rises to confirm the verdict
with horrid acclamation : I am a sinner ; " the soul
that siuneth, it shall die." In the mere justice of
God, then, I find no solace in afiliction. My uncon-
verted friend, you deny yourself all other resource.
That justice I jDlainly see to be against me. I can-
not scale that eternal wall. Justice exacts the pun-
ishment of sin ; but I am a sinner. Justice exacts
obedience, full, unbroken and implicit ; but I have
long since broken the covenant. The stripes which
I endure are but the earnest of my penalty. Yet
they are just stripes : they are such as it befits Infi-
nite Justice to inflict. Wonder it is, that I have
not long since been given over to the executioner.
Where can I look ? — in what cleft of burning Sinai
can I find a refucre ?

Thus it is that the attribute of Justice, viewed
alone, gives no comfort, and opens no stronghold to
man, considered as a sinner. And it is for this very
reason, that the eye of the sufferer is directed to
another quarter of the heavens. I hasten to the
point indicated in the outset. When we begin to
learn from the Scriptures, that God is a God of love
and tender compassion; that his very stripes are

118 CONSOLATION.

awakening us to fly; that lie dotli not willingly
afflict and grieve ; that whom the Lord loveth he
chasteneth ; when behind the lifted rod we discern
a Father's tears ; and when, as being in covenant,
we consider that the same afflictions are accomplish-
ed in our brethren that are in the world ; that they
are not by chance, but appointed with the full con-
sent of Him who stands by the throne, and who
loved us so that he died for us, and is now our Guar-
dian, Trustee, Surety, Advocate, and Husband —
when we find that he has brought us into this
wilderness with an intention, and hedges up our
way with preventive tenderness — the desert begins
to smile ; the thirsty waste seems moist with springs
of water ; the sandy plain appears newly clad with
trees of pleasure ; the "land is as the garden of Eden ;"
the voice of the Lord is heard among the trees of
the garden ; after sultry heats, the cool of the
evening reveals the form of the Shepherd ; he lead-
eth us beside the still waters. " Yea, though I walk
through the valley of the shadow of death, I will
fear no evil ; for thou art with me ; thy rod and
thy staif they comfort me."

And O how suddenly can this change be wrought
in the soul ! Think not even a sudden death is de-
nied these revelations. It is not sudden to him who
sends it. "Whether he gently unwind the silver
cord or dash the golden bowl to pieces at a blow ;
whether the aged servant in his bed ebbs away
into eternity by long decay, or welcomes his Master
in some spasm of the heart ; or loses his earthly con

god's goodness. 119

sciousness amidst tlie shrieks and strangulation of
shipwreck — what are these incidents? God was
there ; Christ was there. On this side we see corpses
and desolation ; on that side they see a delivered
spirit, embosomed in love, entered into the strong-
hold and refuge.

Justice no longer appals us, when it is satisfied
in Christ. It is the love, the mercy, the grace, the
long-suffering, the fatherly compassion of our God,
which is our citadel. " The name of the Lord is a
strong tower ; the righteous runneth into it and are
safe." What name is this ? " The Lord, the Lord
God, merciful and gracious, long-suffering, and abun-
dant in goodness and truth; keeping mercy for
thousands, forgiving iniquity, transgression and sin,
and that will by no means spare the guilty." This
name is our strong tower ; this God is our strong-
hold. We may take refuge in every name and attri-
bute as in a separate chamber of our fortress. And
the consolation is not confined to any specific case,
but has a generality wide enough to embrace all
who find the true entrance. The promise is exceed-
ing wide, and opens its doors to all the throng of
the wearied and heavy-laden.

The teaching of the Scripture is, therefore, plain :
we have a refuge. The love of God, under the
various names of goodness, bounty, long-suffering,
compassion, mercy, and grace, is that which opens
to us in our flight. Only convince a man, on gos-
pel grounds, that God loves him, and in j^roportion
to his faith, you make him a happy man. Let him

120 CONSOLATION.

only know tlie things that are freely given Mm of
God, and lie is comforted. " When, by the Spirit
of God," says Luther, speaking of his conversion, " I
learnt how the justification of the sinner proceeds
from God's mere mercy, by the way of faith, then I
felt myself born again, as a new man ; and I enter-
ed by an open door into the paradise of God. From
that hour I saw the precious and holy Scriptures
with new eyes." He had entered the stronghold.
Let a man comprehend the import of the declara-
tion that God is good ; let him think who and how
great God is; what and how copious his all-suffi-
ciency ; how boundless his ability to bless ; how ex-
quisite the pleasures at his right hand for evermore ;
and then let him stand and wonder at the greatness
of affection affirmed of such a Being, who sits at the
fount of all conceivable good, creates all susceptibili-
ties of enjoyment, and floods them with holy fulness.
Let him muse on this till he has begun to conceive
what God is, what God's love is, and how it must
gush from this spring-head, and stream into swell-
ing rivers of deep and spreading beneficence, of vast
and awful bhss, from its sources in the heart of
infinite favour ; and then let him turn inwards, and
shudder to behold that the object of all this is —
himself I say, let a man thus be told, and thus
understand, and thus believe that God loves him —
and he is a happy man : he now knows that God is
a refuge.

You do not bless the afflicted sinner, I repeat it,
by sa,ying to him that God is just. Sinners also be-

god's goodness. 121

lieve and tremble. The never-failing replication of
his conscience is, and "because He is just, I am
wretched." But when you would revive the spirit
of the contrite, say to him, God is love. It will be
a dead letter to him, unless he looks at the cross ;
but let him so look, and he beholds a door. Thus
the solitary young monk was led in by Staupitz :
" Look at the wounds of Christ," he said to Luther,
" and you will there see shining clearly the purpose
of God towards men. We cannot understand God
out of CliristT Hence the maxim of the Re-
former's after years : " I cannot come near the abso-
lute God." Nolo Deum ahsolutimi! Love is the
attribute which shows us most of God. Here we
gaze on most of the divine effulgence. Power might
be malevolent ; knowledge might be distant ; im-
mensity might overwhelm ; but love, essentially, in
itself, is blissful, and to all around it communicates
bliss. It is only as believers that we can reconcile
the seemiug opposites — " God is a consuming fire,"
and " God is Love."

The difterent ways in which Jehovah shows his
love may have different names ; but it is only the
same adorable, undivided Perfection, shining in love.
The rainbow that is about the throne may have its
distinguishable colours, but the ray is one, and its
name is Love. " For thou, Lord, art good, and ready
to forgive, and plenteous in mercy unto all them
that call upon thee ; a God fall of compassion and
gracious : long-suffering and plenteous in mercy and
truth." This is not tautology; it is human mind

122 CONSOLATION.

and language sinking under repeated efforts to
express tlie inexpressible, to go around the tower of
glory, and survey first one side and then another of
that structure which is the centre and glory of the
Church. Let men of the world consider this. Their
rock is not as our Rock, even themselves being
judges. Here is our city of strength, O worldlings !
" Walk about Zion, and go round about her ; tell
ye the towers thereof; mark ye well her bulwarks ;
consider her palaces. For this God is our God for
ever and ever: he will be our guide even unto
death, Ps. 48. Or in the words of another Scrij)-
ture, Jehovah is good.

In time of trouhle^ faith actually resorts to this
refuge. The lofty gates have been ojDen for ages,
and the fugitives of all nations have been press-
ing in; but yet there is room. Times of trouble
have not ceased from our world. In such times, we
need some refuge, stronghold and solace. Every
man seeks some refuge of this kind. Let a sudden
blast ruffle our bay, and the squadron of small craft
are instantly dispersed, each making for its little
haven. The hiding-places of men are discovered by
affliction. As one has aptly said, " Our refuges are
like the nests of birds ; in summer they are hidden
among the green leaves, but in winter they are seen
among the naked branches." Ungodly men being
afraid of God, and feeling that they are at enmity
with him, go any where else for solace in affliction.
Some turn to worldly business, and buy and sell
with redoubled activity; some count up the idols

god's goodness. 123

that remain, and plan new enterpiises; some go
into light company, read light books, or flutter
through the dance of light amusements ; some have
been known to enter the sty of drunkenness.
Troubles drive each one to his refuge, and each has
his little retreat, his shrine and his idol, which he
seeks at such times. And the child of God has his
refuge, and goes into it. Above the raging of the
water-floods, when all around is consternation, he
hears the voice, as of a trumpet, saying from the
bulwarks : " Come, my people, enter thou into thy
chambers, and shut the doors about thee ; hide thy-
self, as it were, for a little moment, until the indig-
nation be overpast." Is. 26 : 20. And emerging from
the waves, he responds: "In the shadow of thy
wings will I make my refuge, until these calamities
be overpast." Ps. 57 : 1. "When my heart is over-
whelmed within me, lead me to the Eock that is
higher than I." " God is our refuge and strength,
a very present help in trouble; therefore will
we not fear, though the earth be removed, and
though the mountains be carried into the midst of
the sea, though the waters thereof roar and be
troubled, though the mountains shake with the
swelling thereof." Such cries of exultation liave
often risen from the ocean-waste, when God's chil-
dren have been swallowed in the deep. Can I
doubt that when the long- remembered steamer Prer
sident was mysteriously crushed by the Atlantic
surge, the lofty voice of Cookman, which I have so
often heard with a thrill of delight calling sinnei*s

124 CONSOLATION.

to Clirist, as with tlie clear penetrating notes of a
clarion, can I doubt that that voice was lifted above
the noise of the waves, in some such strain as this :
" The Lord on high is mightier than the voice of
many waters, yea than the mighty waves of the
sea!" And need we doubt, that in a late catas-
trophe, more than one sanctified spirit, even in that
little moment on the deck, or struggling in the cur-
rent, or locked up in those lower chambers of death,
was enabled to gather itself and say. Lord Jesus, re-
ceive my spirit ! The moment of death requires
simple exercises, thanks be to God ; the way into
that refuge is direct, especially to one who has been
coming to it day by day for years. The word
stronghold in the text, means in Hebrew a dwell-
ing-place, abode, or mansion. It is the same used
it the ninetieth Psalm : " Thou hast been our dwell-
ing-place in all generations." To the believer, God
is not merely a retreat, but an abode ; not a refuge
just found out when trouble surprises, but a habita-
tion to which he has learned continually to resort ;
not a temporary shelter, but a stronghold, where he
dwelleth, aud where he loves to dwell. " For this,"
says the Psalmist, " shall every one pray unto thee, in
a time when thou mayest be found ; surely in the
floods of great waters they shall not come nigh unto
him : thou art my hiding-place."

Here is a refuge to which faith actually resorts
in every trouble. The heart knoweth its own bit-
terness ; and sometimes the keenest arrow is rank-
ling just where the stranger intermeddleth not.

god's goodness. 125

Many are tlie afflictions of tlie righteous : some of
tlie sorest are not catalogued in books, or rehearsed
in sermons. Sometimes single darts wound liere and
there : and then again, whole communities suffer.
One disaster in war, or on the ocean, directs the
river of sorrow into a thousand homes. The falling
of a hoary head, — that crown of glory, if it is the
head of a believer, a friend, an example, a father, a
pastor, — carries down with it the sorrowing hearts
of a church, or indeed, as we have felt this week, of
a whole Christian population. When it was whis-
pered from one to another in our city, that a be-
loved father in the gospel had been translated in
the night, who was there that did not feel that it
was a bereavement, and that the loss was a loss of
the Christian society ?*

Such will be the case with all of ns, in our seve-
ral afflictions, if our faith resorts to God as a refuge.
It is this, far more than exemption from trials, which
makes hfe blessed. Perhaps you have been tempt-
ed to say. Blessed are the prosperous, the rich, the
unhumbled ! No. Asaph had some such thoughts ;
but when he went into the sanctuary, and took a
heavenly view, he descried the end of the wicked.
It was one who knew, that said, Blessed are they
that mourn, for they shall be comforted. Happy
are they only, who have sorrow sweetened by the
divine promise. They glory in tribulation. They
have storms, but they have both an anchor and a
haven. Goodness cannot be manifested more clear-

* This was penned just after the death of an eminent clergyman.

126 CONSOLATION.

ly than in a sanctifying process, however severe. Let
me thus reason with such as are in trials. We have
asked to be made holy. Again and again we have
besought the Lord to withdraw us from evil ways, to
divorce us from the rivals which seduce us ; and now
we hear him saying, " I will hedge up thy way with
thorns, and make a wall, that she shall not find her
paths : and she shall follow after lovers, but shall
not overtake them ; and she shall seek them, but
shall not find them : then shall she say, I will go
and return to my first husband, for then was it bet-
ter with me than now." And, so saying, the soul
recognizes the goodness of God, and faith enters the
stronghold. There are thoughts in the darkened
chamber of sorrow which visit us nowhere else ; —
important, salutary thoughts, to instruct, confirm,
purify, arm, and comfort; thoughts of our sin, our
selfishness, our idolatry, our worldliness, our unbe-
lief; thoughts of the abiding joy laid up in heaven,
where sickness, alarm, despair, and sin never come.
And I speak the mind of all sanctified affliction,
when I add, that among them all, no thought is
more constant than that of God's goodness as an
eternal refuge. " Thou wilt keep him in perfect
peace, whose mind is stayed on thee, because he
trusteth in thee. Trust ye in the' Lord for ever, for
in the Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength."

1. How admirable and lovely is that rehgion
which makes such provision for times of trial ! And
the provision is God. We are told, not that a refuge
or fortress is found in this or that consideration, but

god's goodness. 127

that tlie name of tlie Lord is a strong tower. Re-
ligion derives all its graces and all its glories from
its principal object. If tlie believer is to rejoice, it
is in God. The course of om- experience shows us,
that every rehance sinks away from under us, and
nothing sublunary can be our support. Youth, and
prime, and strength soon decay. Health is one of
the most precarious and perishable of our brief pos-
sessions. Wealth — I will not condescend to name
it, as a solace in heart-trouble. Friends — they are
blessed gifts ; let us ever thank God for them, dis-
charge our duty to them, and dwell in love amongst
them : but their arm reaches but a little way ; often
the most that they can do is to weep with us ; and
ah ! how soon, how rapidly do they depart ! Till
at length the aged disciple looks around to wonder at
his own solitude ; and if he sees near him so much
as one of the companions of his youth, is ready to
tremble at the prospect of speedy separation. Ex-
perience, I say, shows us, sooner or later, that there
is no resting short of God. Tread on any ground
but this, and it proves a quicksand. But oh, how
rich is the possession of God's saints ! The mighty
God of Jacob is their refuge, and underneath them
are the everlasting arms ! I will never, I will never,
I will never, never, never, never — such is the redu-
plication of the text — ^leave thee, nor forsake thee.
Here is a heavenly tower of vast dimensions, every
chamber filled with bounty, and every gate standing
wide open. As the magistracy of Israel was com-

128 CONSOLATION.

manded to see that the highways to the cities of
refuge were ke^Dt in good repair, so that the fleeing
culprits ruight meet with no obstruction, so it is a
chief duty of the gospel ministry to facilitate the
flight of all afflicted persons to the tower of strength
and consolation. O that I were able to recount and to
describe the numerous instances in which I have seen
the heart-broken child of God taking courage amidst
redoubled calamities, in the attributes of a recon-
ciled God ! This were enough — if there were noth-
ing else — to recommend the Christian religion to all
who suffer pain, fear, or bereavement. And hence,
indeed, we observe, that the followers of the Lord
Jesus consist in a great degree of those who have
been drawn to him by the necessities of deep afflic-
tion.

2. How serious is the question. Am I acquainted
with God as a strong tower in the time of danger ?
It is not every one who possesses this resort — or
who knows the way to it. As has been intimated,
the flying of the soul to God, in times of trouble,
presupposes some knowledge of him, reconciliation
with him, and trust in him. The calamities of life
are such indeed, and come with poignant sting to
those who have no God. The bolt falls with almost
crushing violence, on the man who is at ease in his
possessions, and who cries in vain to his god of silver
and of gold. Beloved reader, be persuaded to re-
member your Creator, before the evil days come.
Hearken to the voice of all experience, and believe

god's goodness. 129

that yon will bitterly regret your impenitence and
procrastination, when sudden affliction comes upon
you. You cannot possibly make a better use of
these halcyon days of youth, of health and of ease,
than by providing for the dark and cloudy season.
God is graciously ready to welcome him who turns to
him, even in the hour of his desolation, and, like the
prodigal, cries, " I will arise and go to my father :"
but more pleasing is it to God, and more profitable
to the soul, when one amidst the sunshine of hope
and prosperity, looks up and says, "Father, thou
art the Guide of my youth ! " Nothing is more
certain, than that the days are hastening on, in
which you will find these to be true sayings.
Therefore, be exhorted, without delay, to flee into
this everlasting tower, that you may be safe ; —
safe not merely fi^om the clouds of worldly sorrow,
but from the insufferable tempest of God's wrath
and curse !

3. It only remains that I should beseech those
who are sufferers at this time, actually and imme-
diately to betake themselves to this refuge. Behold
the Rock of your Defence ! Behold in every several
attribute a chamber of protection ! Call to mind
the lessons of your whole Christian life, with regard
to the Truth, the Justice, and the Goodness of God.
Even under the Old Testament, amidst many imper-
fections of knowledge, God's people learned to con-
fide in him, under the heaviest strokes. Abram,
Jacob, Eli, Job, David, Ezekiel, Habakkuk, have
9

130 CONSOLATION.

left us their testimonial. So clear was this, tliat
even the modern Jew, in his wanderings has lessons
of resignation, which are unknown to the pagan phi-
losopher. " During the absence of the Kabbi Meir,
his two sons died — both of them of uncommon
beauty, and enlightened in the divine law. His
wife bore them to her chamber, and laid them upon
her bed. When Kabbi Meir returned, his first in-
quiry was for his sons. His wife reached to him
a goblet ; he praised the Lord at the going out of
the Sabbath, drank, and again asked, ' Where are
my sons V ' They are not far off,' she said, placing
food before him that he might eat. He was in a
genial mood, and when he had said grace after meat,
she thus addressed him : ' Eabbi, with thy permis-
sion, I would fain propose to thee one question.'
' A&k it then, my love,' rephed he. ^ A few days ago
a person intrusted some jewels to my custody, and
now he demands them. Should I give them back
to him?' 'This is a question,' said the Eabbi,
' which my wife should not have thought it neces-
sary to ask. What ! wouldest thou hesitate or be
reluctant to restore to every one his own V ' No,'
she replied, ' but yet I thought it best not to restore
them without acquainting thee therewith.' She
then led him to the chamber, and stepping to the
bed, took the white covering from the dead bodies.
^Ah! my sons, my sons,' loudly lamented their
father ; ' my sons ! the light of my eyes and the
light of my understanding : I was your father — but

god's goodness. 131

you were my teachers in tlie law.' Tlie motlier
turned away and wept bitterly. At length she took
her husband by the hand and said, ' Eabbi, didst
thou not teach me that we must not be reluctant to
restore that which was intrusted to our keeping ?
See, ' the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away,
and blessed be the name of the Lord.' 'Blessed
be the name of the Lord,' echoed the Rabbi, ' and
blessed be his holy name for ever.' " But all Old
Testament resignations and hopes are but a morn-
ing twihght, compared with the meridian faith of
the Gospel. Now, we behold in Jesus, not only a
Master and a Comforter, but a fellow-sufferer, a
forerunner, a sympathizing High Priest. By him,
as a medium, we approach our fortress ; for he is
the way, the truth, and the life. Not even sin can
keep us away ; for he has borne our sins in his own
body on the tree. Come then, and drown your
griefs in the sea of everlasting love ! A little
longer, and you shall be admitted to a nearer view
of those divine excellences, which, even in distant
prospect, have sustained your head amidst the bil-
lows. And, then, when fully entered into your
eternal fortress, how speedily shall you forget all
the trials of the pilgrimage ! My beloved brethren,
what we need, in order to support our fainting souls,
is only a larger measure of that faith, which is the
substance of things hoped for, and the evidence of
things not seen ; which shall make the coming eter-
nity as real to us, as the events of the passing life ;

132 CONSOLATION.

whicli shall turn our doctrines and tenets respect-
ing God and heaven, into heart-experience, and
actuating motive. Then shall we abide in God, as
in our tower ; then shall we be encircled in his
pavilion. Then shall we dwell in the house of the
Lord for ever.

THE SOUL SUSTAINED BY HOPE EISING
TO ASSURANCE.

YI.

IT is a very serious and interesting question, wheth-
er a believer may in this life attain to an infalli-
ble certainty of his ultimate salvation. Nor is the
problem a new one. The times of the Reformation,
three hundred years ago, were much occupied with
this very inquiry. The finding of the genuine gos-
pel among the old ruins of superstitious ceremonial

i and semipelagian dogmas, shed such a sunshine over
the Christian world, that there were multitudes
whose hope was so exalted as to expel all doubt.
This was consolation indeed ; for such a certainty of

! bliss was peculiarly suitable in a day when it was
needful to suffer for Christ, and when martyrdoms
began to reappear in the church. The reformers,

I one and all, testified that a man might be assm-ed of

j his eventual salvation.

But this doctrine found many adversaries. It
comported well with the denial of final persever-

I ance, to deny this. The same persons were the op-
ponents of both. In the first place, the Papists ad-
mitted no certainty concerning one's being in a state
of grace, beyond what was conjectural. They even
maintained that such a certainty was not desii-able,

136 CONSOLATION.

and tliat it tended to relaxation of morals. It would
have been more candid, if tliey had maintained that
it tended to relaxation of the priestly tie, and dimi-
nution of the papal majesty. For he who is assured
of God's love, and hears his remission from his judge,
will feel little concern about human absolution.
Here is a death-blow to masses for the souPs health,
supererogatory merits of saints laid up in store for
the behoof of sinners, vows, pilgrimages, humilia-
tions, indulgences, and universal monkery. There
is no need of these to one who has the peace of God
shed abroad in the heart.

There were other adversaries of triumphant
grace, and they set themselves to deny assurance.
The old Arminians (in this differing very much from
the modern Wesleyans) united in holding that it
was neither laudable nor useful to be placed above
doubt. They admitted a conjectural certainty, or a
conditional certainty, but none that was real. For
how can they who admit the danger of falling from
a state of grace have any assurance for eternity?
They may fall away to-morrow. They may fall
away under the next temptation. They may make
shipwreck in the very haven, and lose Christ after
they have become speechless in death.

It suited well with a slavish and legal system to
deny the possibility of assurance. Having no know-
ledge of a method of grace, and the ingenuous, grate-
ful, willing service which is rendered by a renewed
soul, they dreaded ever to let the convinced come
from under this yoke of bondage. They were sure

ASURANCE. 13Y

that tlie moment lie was sure of escape from hell,
lie would disobey ; that there could be no Christian-
ity, save under the lash. The effect of such a scheme
is apparent, to a melancholy degree, in the character
of many estimable, and of some great men. A re-
markable instance is that of the celebrated Dr. John-
son. It would be difficult to point out a more
gloomy record of experience, than that which is con-
tained in his religious meditations and diary. These
extend through a period of forty-six years. They
are solemn, affecting, and undoubtedly sincere. But
they lack one thing, and that all-important, namely,
the idea of free salvation by Jesus Christ. Dr.
Johnson had learned that all assm^ance was enthusi-
asm. He knew no motive but fear. He is perpetu-
ally lamenting over sin, but never cherishing a sense
of pardon. Almost until his latest hours, he was in
bondage through fear of death. He never willingly
allowed conversation in his presence to turn on this
painful subject, and sometimes repressed it with his
characteristic and boisterous indignation. Now how
far did this absence of that assurance (which he so
strenuously denied to be possible) tend to the devel-
opment of Christian character ? Let us read, amidst
his lamentations over lost time, and his petty fasts
and austerities, the record on his fifty-sixth birth-day,
Sept. 18, 1764. " I have now spent fifty-five years
in resolving, having from the earliest time almost
that I can remember, been forming schemes of a
better hfe. I have done nothing." It is pleasing to
find reason for beheving, that in the close of life. Dr.

138 CONSOLATION.

Johnson opened his mind to some more gracious views
of the plan of salvation. His error with regard to
the certainty of final glory, is the error of thousands,
who maintain the same scheme of partial grace.

In opposition to all this, the doctrine of the Ee-
formed Theologians has uniformly been, that there
is an assurance of God's love, which may be attained
in the present life : and it is the nature of this as-
surance which we shall now in the first place con-
sider.

The word rendered fulVassurance^ is one of
striking import. It carries with it the idea of ful-
ness, such as of a tree laden with fruit, or of a ves-
sel's sails when stretched by a favouring gale. It is
unwavering conviction, persuasion which defies all
doubt, and expectation rising to certainty. And it
stands distinguished from a conviction and persua-
sion of any or all the propositions of revealed truth,
as involving an application of that truth to our own
proper case. The former is called the assurance of
faith; the latter (of which we are treating), the
asswrance of hope^ and sometimes the full assm^ance
of hope. Heb. 6:11. As faith unfolds into hope, so
the assurance or highest measure of faith into the
assurance or highest measure of hope. They there-
fore often coexist ; yet they are distinguishable.
The assurance of faith is the acme of unwavering
and undoubting confidence that the revealed propo-
sitions are the very truth of God ; — a persuasion so
firm, as to be the basis and resting-place of all Chris-
tian rehance. It is saving faith carried to its height.

ASSURANCE. 139

It sees Christ, and believes in him. The Assurance of
Hope is a settled, unshaken, well-grounded, immova-
ble persuasion and certainty, that I, as an individual,
have thus believed ; that I am in Christ ; that God is
my reconciled Father ; that I shall never come into con-
demnation ; and that my heaven is secure. The former
is a universal duty ; the latter is a gracious privi-
lege. One is possessed by every believer ; the other
is a sovereign gift to a part of the flock. By one,
I believe that God is true ; by the other, that he is
my God. By the one, I see Christ to be an almighty
and a willing Saviour ; by the other I am assured
that he will save me in particular. By one, I lean
on Christ as my only and all-sufficient supporter ; by
the other, I am made certain that I have actually
done so, and hope without wavering that I shall eter-
nally rejoice in him One is opposed to unbelief, the
other to despondency. One connects with Christ ;
the other reveals the connection. They stand to
one another as the blossom to the fruit ; or as the
deed to the possession ; or as the sentence of acquit-
tal, to enlargement from restraint. One may coex-
ist with many fears ; the other casteth out all fear.
" The work of righteousness shall be peace, and the
effect of righteousness, quietness, and assurance for
ever."" Whether saving faith, by its essential quali-
ty, would not necessarily result in assured hope, pro-
vided such faith were only great enough in degree,
is a question which would lead us into niceties of
disquisition, which at the present time we may pro-
fitably wave. That the two have a perceptible dif-

140 CONSOLATION.

ference, must appear from wliat lias been said ; and
we are ttus far enabled to gain some glimpse of the
nature of full assurance. But we may look stOl
more nearly at tlie subject, in a series of particulars.

1. This state of miud is peculiar to true believ-
ers. It is possessed by no others. There are, in-
deed, powerful persuasions in the minds of some ; —
presum23tions which may outlive the pang of dying,
and knock at the very gate of heaven, and be re-
pulsed only by the Master's word, I never Icnew you.
There are counterfeits of all that is precious ; and
Satan is the grand artificer of simulated good ; and
herein is one of his chief devices ; and enthusiasm
may show elations and raptures more heady, vocif-
erous and boastful than humble faith. But the hol-
lo wness and falsity of such. impressions must not be
allowed to accomplish Satan's purpose, of cheating
us into the opinion that there is no genuine assur-
ance. God is able, not only to renew a soul, but to
give an infallible persuasion that it is renewed.

2. The assurance which we are inquiring for, is
not a supernatural revelation of new truth. Inspira-
tion can unquestionably thus communicate ; but in
the wise and wonderful economy of grace, inspira-
tion has ceased. Here it is that enthusiasts and
fanatics have gone astray. They have shut out all
exercise of reason in this matter, all examination of
evidences, and sometimes all grounds of Scripture ;
and have relied on visions, trances, dreams, voices,
and bare impressions. Nothing is more immovable
than their convictions. Argument is vain: that

ASSURANCE. 141

wliicli came in without reason, cannot be driven out
by reason. They are a Scripture unto themselves.
.In vain do you ask their evidences. They know
because they know. And it is important to say
thus much upon this delusion, lest any should mis-
take the path to real gospel comfort, and seek it as
a du^ect, special, immediate, heavenly manifestation,
unconnected with the general exaltation of the life
of God in the soul. True assurance is after all found-
ed on the recorded Word.

3. The Assurance of Hope rests on the promises
of God. It is allied to faith ; nay, it grows out of
faith. Where there is no faith, it cannot exist ; and
it increases with the increase of faith. It results
from a firm, unshaken trust in God's gracious declara-
tions. To see ourselves accepted, we must previous-
ly " see the things that are freely given us of God."
As it is the open view of gospel promises of free
salvation through Jesus Christ, which first brings us
into vital union with our Redeemer, so it is the fur-
ther application of the same promises to our own
case, the seeing of ourselves as included in them,
which gives us the joy of assurance.

4. The assurance that we are in the favour of
God, is connected with the existence of Christian
evidences in our hearts. It is to a certain extent
founded on these. There are some who, in their
zeal for grace, and for the efficacy of faith, go so far
as to discard all examination of evidences, as legal.
They declare, that all true gospel-comfort is to be
obtained by a simple looking at the word of prom-

142 CONSOLATION.

ise, and a bare, undoubting faitb, without any reflex
consideration of what Christ has wrought in us.
Now I trust that the tenor of this whole volume,
is such as makes it superfluous to say, that I attri-
bute all faith to the word of promise, and all
justification to faith ; yea, that it is this simple,
direct, instant faith, to which I would vehemently
exhort every unconverted sinner. This is what
a sinner must do, to be saved; and what a saint
must do, to abide in Christ. But it is a very dis-
tinct matter, when the question is, " By what
means shall a soul know that it is born of God?"
It is a new case, when the anxious inquiry is suggest-
ed, " How shall I ascertain that this experience, of
which I am conscious, and which I call faith, is the
very faith of God's elect ?" And it is no derogation
from the justifying and saving power of naked faith,
to agitate the inquiry, " May I employ the fruits of
holiness within me, to confirm my persuasion that I
am born of God ?" It is agreed on all hands, that
faith is the beginning of a transformation in the
soul ; a series of new principles, habits, and actions ;
that this work is wrought only in God's people ; only
by a divine influence ; and that certain virtues,
graces, or states and acts of the soul, are denomi-
nated the fruit of the Spirit. These things, I say,
we are agreed in. It is as undeniable, that results
of this kind are patent and palpable, within human
cognizance, subject to our consciousness, and suscep-
tible of comparison with the Word of God. No
one will refuse to admit, that the presence of these

ASSUEANCE. 143

graces is demonstrative of regeneration. He wlio
has these fruits, has the Spirit, is born of God, is a
new creature. Now is any one hardy enough to de-
clare, that while the presence of such exercises is
conclusive evidence of a gracious state, the behever
is not suffered to look at them ? Must his eyes be
bandaged in regard to that which affords con\dction
of his being saved ; that, moreover, which is always
with him, in his own bosom, a part of himself? Yet
this extreme position must be maintained by those —
and such there are — who deny the value of gracious
evidences, in regard to our estimate of our own re-

, lation to the covenant. That this is not the ground
of justification, we all admit. That this is not the
sole ground of assurance, will appear in the sequel.

I That the search among experiences may be carried

; too far, so as to produce despondency, and so as to
supplant direct acts of faith by those which are re-
flex, is freely acknowledged. Nevertheless, we must
maintain, that the Holy Spirit may and does em-
ploy those graces of which he is the author, as the
marks of his own work, and thus as means of assur-

j ance.

This appears to be expressly stated in not a few
passages of Scripture. Thus the presence of the
spiritual influence is a mark of being in Christ. 1
John 4 : 13, "Hereby we know that we dwell in
him, because he hath given us of his Spirit." The
effectual leading of the same Spirit is a mark of
grace. " As many as are led by the Spirit of God,

; they are the sons of God." The existence of

144 CONSOLATION.

brotherly love and obedience is a like testimo-
nial : " We know that we have passed from death
mito life, because we love the brethren. Let us
not love in word, neither in tongue, but in deed
and in truth. And hereby we know that we are
of the truth, and shall assure our hearts before
him. Beloved, if our hearts condemn us not, then
have we confidence towards God. And he that
keepeth his commandments dwelleth in him and
he in him."

We must despair of establishing any point by
Scripture citation, if these passages do not prove
that the examination of the heart and life is a
legitimate method of arriving at serene and satis-
factory views of our own state. And I should not
have spent a word on the opposite opinion, if it
were not a morbid growth from a genuine branch
of Christian doctrine — an abuse of the precious
truth, that in seeking justification, the eye of the
soul should be directly fixed on the Lord Jesus
Christ.

5. It might be naturally inferred, from what has
been said, that the full assurance of hope is the ac-
companiment of elevated piety. If graces are evi-
dences of a renewed state, then where there is
little grace, there can be little evidence. Where
the divine work in the soul is faint, the evidences
must be obscure. It would contradict the whole
economy of holiness, if high joys and triumphs of
assured love were granted to lukewarm and grovel-
ling religion. The exaltation of divine exercises in

ASSURANCE. 145

the soul is, therefore, the brightening of evidence.
And we have little cause to wonder that we have
so little assurance, when we look within, and dis-
cover that we have little faith, httle love, and little
self-denial. We are prepared, therefore, to expect
that in producing assurance of God's love, it will be a
part of the Holy Spiiit's work to exalt the piety of the
heart ; to lift up the graces so as to bring them into
\iew ; to kindle the affections to a visible and palpa-
ble glow ; and so to multiply the fruits of holiness,
that old things may pass away, all things become
new, and every habit and act afford a testimony of
the new creature. This is in truth a part of sanc-
tification. By making us more holy, God makes us
more assured. Our religion becomes more profound,
more vital, more energetic, and so more^ undeniable.
The doubts we now have would be speedily dis-
persed, if we were rapt in the transport of heavenly
emotions. A stronger faith would carry us away, as
on the wings of the wind, towards the object of our
soul. A coal from the altar, brought to our Hps by
sera]:)hic hands, would purge our iniquity, and en-
kindle our hopes. The work of the Holy Ghost,
therefore, in awakening, and multiplying, and deep-
ening Christian exercises, tends directly to create
just so many evidences of the new nature, and to
give assurance of God's love. Increase of grace
brings increase of security ; and thus the danger of
licentious presumption is avoided.

6. But is there not, over and above this, a dis-
tinct and direct influence from on high, promoting
10

146 CONSOLATION.

the assurance tliat we belong to Christ? We re-
joice to think there is. It is possible to conceive of a
high state of gracious affections, without any reflex
acts, that is, without these affections being used
by the individual as tokens of his acceptance. In
his character as Paraclete or Comforter, the ador-
able Spirit has been pleased to pour joys directly
into the soul : not independently of experience, but
over and above it, giving hope ; "for patience work-
eth experience, and experience hope, that maketh
not ashamed, because the love of God is shed abroad
in the heart by the Holy Ghost given unto us."
The witness of our own consciousness of change is
something; but here is a greater and a better
witness. "The Spirit beareth witness with our
spirits, that we are the children of God." It is a
heavenly seal until the day of redemption. It is a
heavenly earnest of the future possession. It may
sometimes operate upon the mind to quicken its facul-
ties, so as to discern the corresjDondence between the
experience and the word. But inasmuch as all
grace is from a divine agency, I see no reason why
we may not admit an immediate operation on the
soul itself, producing this persuasion as its imme-
diate result, and overflowing the heart with a sense
of heavenly love. In whatever way this result is
attained, it is to be firmly held that it proceeds from
the Author of all good, and is accompanied with the
higher exercises ' of jDiety.

Y. This consideration, that the assurance of God's
love stands among a cluster of holy gifts, and that it

ASSUEANCE. 147

bears some proportion to the degree of holiness in
the soul, effectually shuts the door against one great
objection. If assurance is the fruit of holiness, then
licentious, carnal ease is something spurious. Some
may urge that a great motive to exertion is removed,
when we take away the fear of eventual shipwreck.
God may use fear, even servile fear, as a means of
stimulating his people; but this is not his usual
manner. There is a keener stimulus than the fear
of falling: it is the mingled agency of faith, and
hope, and gratitude, and love. He who is surest of
the crown, will not be the first to trample on it.
He who is certain of meeting Christ, will not be
most ready to insult and grieve him. Paul was
never more prepared for labour and endurance, than
when he said : '' I know in whom I have believed ;"
and when he exulted, " I am persuaded that nothing
shall separate me from the love of God which is in
Christ Jesus."

In what has thus far been said, we have an-
swered the question, as to the nature of full assur-
ance, and have discovered that it is attainable.
There is a second inquiry, which will now be made
(^asy, so as not to detain us long. It is this. Is as-
surance of personal salvation essential to saving
fj^^iith ? Some have maintained the afiu^mative, and
have taught that no man can be a regenerate per-
son without knowing himself to be such. But the
negative is clearly the doctrine of Scripture. Bear-
ing in mind the distinction already suggested, be-
tween the assurance of faith and the assurauce of

148 CONSOLATION.

hope, you will readily perceive that one may have a
justifying faith without any necessary reference to
the question, whether he is himself regenerate or
not. And inasmuch as any the least degree of
faith is justifying, as uniting the soul to Christ, you
will as readily perceive that faith may apprehend
Christ, when as yet it falls far short of that which
produces assured hope.

Some truly good men, making their own lively
experience too much the rule and criterion for
others, have taught that saving faith is a belief that
Christ died for me in particular. But the grave
defect of this hypothesis is, that there is nothing
like it in the Bible. Indeed the highest and most
seraphic faith may be so absorbed in the great ob-
ject, Jesus Christ, as to. lose all regard to self, or
even its own salvation. Saving faith is not a belief
that I have saving faith, but a belief in Christ the
Saviour, and a receiving of him as offered in the
Word ; a holding of the recorded offer to be credi-
ble; and a setting-to the seal that God is true.
The delightful inference, that I am a saved soul, may
be true — may follow logically from the truths be-
lieved, and my act of believing — may, therefore,
in some sort, be involved in the projDosition, I be-
lieve ; and yet it is no part of that faith which is
saving. The Bible nowhere enjoins it as such. It
is a happy fruit of faith. But some will ask, Ctm so
great a change take place without the subject being
conscious of it ? We answer, no. The subject is
conscious ; but something more than his conscious-

ASSUEANCE. 149

ness is needful to assure him. He knows there is a
change, but is it tlie change ? We are asked, Can it
be j)ossible for a prisoner to be loosed from such a
bond without knowing it ? We answer, Peter was
released by an angel from prison, " and went out and
followed him, and wist not that it was true which
was done by the angel, but he thought he saw a
vision." So it may be with the emancipated soul.

The Scripture seems to teach that this certainty
of renewal may follow the renewal itself Eph. 1 :
13, "In whom ye also trusted, after that ye heard
the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation ; in
whom also, after that ye believed, ye were sealed
with that Holy Spirit of promise, which is the earnest
of our inheritance until the redemption of the pur-
chased possession." Here^ you will observe, the
sealing is separated from the believing, by an inter-
val of time. If, as we have seen, this assurance is
connected with active growing graces, as evidence, it
is natural to believe, that those may be faint and
dim, in their earhest stage. God has nowhere given
this as an indispensable criterion. Let us not offend
against weak or desponding brethren, by making
that weakness and despondency a token of wrath.
Let us not break the bruised reed, by decreeing,
Ijeyond our authority, that every one who doubts of
his salvation is the enemy of God. How many of
Christ's faithful servants would be cut off, by such a
rule ? The safer opinion is, that a man may be truly
regenerate, and yet have doubts in regard to his
personal acceptance.

150 CONSOLATION.

But while this is true, it is not less true, that such
a state of doubt is a most undesirable state. It is
not the healthful condition of the soul ; nor the con-
dition in which pious affections are most in exercise.
It is a valley through which the Christian may
journey, but where he cannot willingly dwell. He
may wait long for this dayspring from on high to
visit him : yet there is provision made for his enjoy-
ing it ; and he should never rest without it. Surely
it is not a matter of indifference, whether I am an
enemy or a child ; whether, if I die to-day, I drop
to hell, or rise to glory ! If it be possible to escape
from such a region of clouds and darkness, it should
be attempted ; and we should use all diligence to the
full assurance of hope : it is the desire of the apostle
and the precept of the Word. Heb. 6:11.

It is so signal a prize, that it claims the intense
and concentrated effort of every power, through every
moment — " all diligence." By what means it should
be sought, might be inferred from what we just now
learned, as to the way in which this assurance rises
in the heart. It is the fruit of faith. Would you
have assurance ? Be sure that you have faith. Is
it as yet too weak ? Let your jDrayer be, " Lord, in-
crease our faith !" How is faith to be cultivated ?
Plainly by converse with the object of faith ; by look-
ing unto Jesus ; by dwelling more on him than on
ourselves ; by going out of ourselves, to fall into his
arms. More definitely, as the promises of Scripture
are the vehicles by which Christ is offered to us, it
is the contemplation of these promises which brings

ASSURANCE. 151

him into our believing hearts. These are called " ex-
ceeding great and precious promises, that by these ye
might be partakers of a divine nature." Those who
have had most abiding assurance of God's love, are
those who have been most in meditation on the
written assurances of that love. It is in the study of
authentic and valid title deeds, that we are most cer-
tain of our rights. The great propitiatory work,
above all, is the object which should be held before
our eyes, for the removal of doubts and fears.

It is further to be considered, that a low con-
dition of piety is not the soil for this amaranthine
flower. Sorrow and tribulation cannot blisrht it :
but it withers under the sunshine of worldliness.
Professors who take their jDleasure in this life do not
seek it, and do not find it. In chambers of disease
and mourning, on death-beds, at the stake, or amidst
the wild beasts, it has risen to exultation. In the
days of primitive piety, it seems to have been en-
joyed by all the martyi's. God was pleased to
vouchsafe it, as an indemnity for all they surren-
dered. In our day of half-way Christianity, when
the children of this world are mingled with the
children of hght, it is less prized, and less freely
bestowed. If we had higher graces, we should have
more assurance. In a better day, when the uni-
versal Christianity shall shoot up to a loftier stature,
it will reappear. And wherever among the throng,
any shall rise to superior eminence in holiness, his
melting heart, fused into a flow of tenderness and
love by the heavenly ray, will experience the pres-

152 coisrsoL ATioN.

sure of this pledge and seal. I will venture the
suggestion, that cold and formal churches will pro-
duce, among their members, a rank crop of weeds, in
the shape of manifold distrusts and fears and doubts ;
and that the graces of individual saints will be most
joyful, when the collective body shall be warmed
through and through. Let a whole church be lifted
up, in renewed faith, and love, and zeal, and cross-
bearing, and earnest labour, and these doubts will
give way to assurance. Such a church is in a state
of revival. Such churches ours might be, and ought
to be. ' Let Him who dwelleth between the cherubim
shine forth ; and in his hght we shall see light.

It is scarcely reasonable to expect this blessing
amidst prevalent sin. If we would know what
hinders it, in our own particular case, we should
inquire into our unmortified sins. There may be
some latent root of bitterness ; there may be some
temper indulged within us rej)ugnant to forgive-
ness, meekness, and brotherly love ; there may be
some •cross which we refuse to bear; some indul-
gence which we will not crucify ; some duty whi(ih
we shudder to attempt. In the attempt after uni-
versal holiness, the unspeakable favour is to be ex-
pected.

But since assurance is, after all, the gift of God,
to whom shall we go but unto Him ? It is the ope-
ration of the Comforter. And if we, being evil,
know how to give good things to our children, how
much more shall our heavenly Father give his Holy
Spirit to them that ask him ? " Ye have not be-

I

ASSURANCE. 153

cause ye ask not. Ask, and ye shall receive."
Make this great attainment a separate object of de-
liberate choice and fervent effort. Till you are no
longer able to live without it, you will not use that
diligence, that instant zeal, that importunity, which
takes no denial, that agonizing struggle that wins
the prize>

It may come to your window, Hke a hovering
dove, with the " oHve-leaf plucked off," at some mo-
ment when weakness and confinement shall make
you prize it more than you do now. This angel of
peace may draw your curtains, at dead of night,
amidst tossing and weeping, and bring to you that
white stone, in which is written the mysterious new
name. You may, peradventure, remember these
things, in some time of unexpected anguish. Our
voyage is not exempt from tempestuous weather.
You may see no tokens of it at present. Your seas
are in -the glassy calm of summer. You are listless
in regard to these assurances of God's love. But I
seem to behold a change of scene in the future.
Years have gone by ; comforts have become fewer ;
clouds have gathered ; fears are in the way. You
are embarked upon troubled waters. The ship is
now in the midst of the sea, tossed with the waves,
and the wind is contrary. You have been long in
this turbulent state, for it is the fourth watch of the
night. But one approaches in the moment of extre-
mity, walking on the sea. O, troubled soul ! cry
not out for fear ; hearken to the well-known voice :
"It is I ; be not afraid !" In such an hour of sor-

154 CONSOLATION.

row, bereavement, temptation or doubt, tlie visits of
assuring love are beyond all price.

Defer not tbe attainment of some reasonable
confidence until your day of peril. In a world so
frail and jDrecarious, it is well to live fore-armed. The
sudden blow of the messenger of death may so stag-
ger and benumb your powers, that amidst the lan-
guor or the consternation, you may find no good
time to put these precepts into practice. And yet,
at what moment can full assurance be so valuable
as at the moment of death ? Thanks be unto God,
he sometimes grants it in that moment ! When
flesh and heart fail, his strength is near. Yes, we
have seen the dying visage lighted up with the an-
gelic smile of triumph, and have heard the song of
rejoicing from lips already cold. A preternatural
glimpse of worlds beyond has been granted even
here. Hear the eminent theologian, Andrew Rivet,
just before his departure : " I shall shortly no more
know the difference between day and night. I am
come to the eve of that great and eternal day, and
am going to that place where the sun shall no more
give light. The sense of Divine favour increaseth
in me every moment. My pains are tolerable, and
^y j^ys inestimable!" Hear the dying Halybur-
ton : " For those fourteen or fifteen years I have
been studying the promises ; but I have seen more
of the book of God this night than in all that time."
Hear good President Finley : " I am full of triumph
— I triumph through Christ. Nothing clij^s my
wings but the thought of my dissolution being pro-

ASSUEANCE. ' 155

longed. O that it were to-niglit! My very soul
thirsts for eternal rest !" " Have you any doubts,
my dear friend ?" asked a pious woman of a mother
in Israel,* well known in this city, who had been
speaking of her sins. " O no," she replied, " I have
no more doubt of going to my Saviour than if
I were already in his arms. My guilt is all trans-
ferred : he has cancelled all my debt ; yet I could
weep for sins against so good a God." How beauti-
ful an illustration of what was said, that the highest
assurance does not relax the moral sensibilities or
promote connivance at sin.

There is something inexpressibly beautiful in tha
Christian old age of one who, having long since
committed all to Christ, has set down to wait till
his change come. It is, indeed, a land of Beulah.
And when such a one, by gentle degrees, approaches
the term of life, how fair the spreading prospect
beyond. Let me represent his exercises, in the
words of a gifted believer : " This river has been a
terror to many ; yea, the thoughts of it have often
fi'ighted me ; but now, methinks, I stand easy . my
foot is fixed upon that on which the feet of the
priests that bare the ark of the covenant stood, while
Israel went over this Jordan. The waters, indeed,
are to the palate bitter, and to the stomach cold ; yet
the thoughts of what I am going to, and of the
conduct that waits for me on the other side, doth
lie as a glowing coal at my heart. I see myself
now at the end of my journey ; my toilsome days

* Mrs. Graham.

156' CONSOLATION.

are ended. I am going to see that liead that was
crowned with thorns, and that face that was spit
upon for me. I have formerly lived by hearsay and
faith, but now I go where I shall live by sight, and
shall be with Him in whose company I delight my-
self His voice to me has been most sweet, and his
countenance I have more desired than they that
have most desired the light of the sun."

The reader may justly be exhorted to " use all
diligence," for the prize is great. To seek it is to
seek eminent holiness. Look for it in the employ-
ment of those means which cause one to " grow in
grace and in the knowledge of our Lord and Sa-
viour Jesus Christ." "And the very God of peace
sanctify you wholly; and I pray God your whole
spirit, and soul and body, be preserved blameless
unto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ !"

KEST IN GOD.

VII.

THE true rest of tlie soul is God, and towards tLis
it is perpetually tending, even wlien it knows it
not, wliicli gives us the reason wliy so many, indeed
the people of the world at large, are constantly
wandering from pleasure to pleasure, unsatisfied with
any. They have not yet found their true centre,
even though they may be gravitating towards it.
Any thing which deserves the name of rest they
have not yet attained. And yet, by an instinct of
nature, men seek for rest, and include it in every
idea which they ever entertain of consummate hap-
piness. The philosophers who, without revelation,
tried to discover truth, avowed it as their object to
arrive at the supreme good ; and this always com-
prised tranquillity and ease. But they knew not
how to reach it; their end was right, but they had
no means. They stood gazing at a prize upon the
summit of an inaccessible mountain. They knew
that what they wanted was repose, but how to at-
tain this they knew not. It was reserved for reve-
lation to make known the great mystery.

Deeply impressed with belief that many of those
who will read these pages are wandering from the

160 . CONSOLATION.

true rest, I would liere call on tliem to return, by-
setting before them a genuine repose, which the
world cannot prevent or eftectually interrupt. Chris-
tianity affords true consolation. It is to find this, to
catch its lineaments, and to present its portrait, that
I now ask attention. Many there are who feel that
the world has disquieted them, who long for some-
thing better, but know not whither to look. " Come
unto me," says Christ, "/will give you rest." Not
the rest of stupidity, or apathy, or inaction; but
that which arises from the absence of all disturbing
causes. It belongs to true Christians ; no others can
lay claim to it. There is no way to attain it but by
the Cross. It is altogether different from the world's
peace, yet it is real and unspeakably delightful, and
thousands in, earth and heaven have possessed it.
No treasure of gold suddenly discovered could so
enrich you as to come to the possession of this secret
of happiness. I therefore claim your attention when I
endeavour to set forth that rest or Christian repose
in God to which you are invited to return. May
God enable us, while we meditate, to understand
and to attain it! I propose, first, to show what
Christian tranquillity or spiritual rest is, in several
particulars; and, secondly, to distinguish it from
some counterfeits which bear its name. K, in con-
clusion, the reader shall be urged to seek it, let me
bespeak his earnest attention. Spiritual Quiet of
soul is founded on knowledge of God, faith in Christ,
a tranquillized conscience, a weakening of the sinful
principle, submission to God, trust in his promises,

EEST EST GOD. 161

and lioly contemplation of the supreme excellence,
as offered for the communion of our spirits. It is
the more important to say this, because the perver-
sion of a great truth has led some into error on this
very point, and a Quietism has been proposed, in
various ages of the church, which is as inconsistent
with man's mental constitution as with the provi-
sions of grace.

1. Spiritual Quiet is founded on hioivledge of
God. It is a quality of sublime objects to bring
the soul into repose. Deep waters are still. It is
little things which agitate and excite us. There is
something soothing in what is grand and soul-ab-
sorbing. In the presence of the ocean, the cataract,
the volcano, or the starry heavens, we feel subdued
and are silent. Thus also the thought of God, the
sublimest of all ideas, instead of driving us to
frenzy, calms the mind. Even on the sick-bed,
when the irritable and too sensitive texture can
scarcely bear any thing that is awakening, the
thought of God rises uj)on the soul, as dewy morn-
ing rises on the earth, after a night of clouds. It
brings refreshment and repose. We never reach
any place wherein to lie down in safety, till we
come to God. This is the continent and terra-firma :
all other resorts are but as shifting sands. If men
did but know it, they would give heed to that in-
ward tendency which perpetually leans towards the
abiding, the infinite, the absolute ; that is God
Every day worldly men live, they find the ground
shpping from under their feet ; every day their hold
11

162 CONSOLATION.

on this world becomes less ; as the sands in their
glass are fewer, they learn that their pleasures are
so likewise ; they are as far as ever from that rest-
ing-place on the summit of the mountain to which
they looked forward. The truth is, the habit of
seeking pleasure in excitement has become too strong
for them : they cannot live in any other element.
Hence we daily see men of business disappointed :
they retire from the active concerns of life ; they go
into the country ; they seek repose among friends
and books. Ah ! they have not discovered that
the rest which they seek must be within. Nothing
earthly can give them rest. HajDpy are they, who,
at this stage of their experience, are led to think of
God. This is the grand idea which fills and satis-
fies the soul. This reaches cravings, which every
thing else does but tantalize. To learn to know
God, in his true scriptural character, is to gain a
secret of mental rej^ose, which transforms the whole
character. But here an obstacle arises in the way :
I am a sinner. How can a sinner approach to
God ? Which leads me to observe :

2. S])iritiial Quiet is founded on Faith in the
Lord Jesus Christ. The more our knowledge of
God in his absolute glory, the greater must be our
dread, and the wider the gulf of separation, until
we are made acquainted with the mediatorial door
of access. Though God is, in his nature, the true
rest of the rational creature, there is no returning to
him as our rest, but by the Lord Jesus Christ. By
faith we come to him, and by faith we abide. The

REST IN GOD. 168

first actings of faitli are more like resting, than any
tiling else : the word well expresses tlie recum-
bency of the soul on God. A sinner who has long
been wearying himself with every kind of self-
righteous labour, at length gives up in despair,
ceases from his own works, abandons his own
righteousness, and receives and rests upon Jesus
Christ, as he is offered in the gospel. He throws
himself into those open arms. Immediately there
ensues a tranquillity never known before. Being
justified by faith, he has peace with God. Some
would judge of the reality of conversion, by the
amount of bustling activity, and disposition to stir
and labour. I would rather, at this stage, look for
repose of soul, and quiet acquiescence in the plan of
salvation, as one which renders every effort at self-
justification superfluous. The first believing tends
to calmness of S2:)irit, and in every subsequent period
of the Christian life, it is belie\dng that must restore
this calm, after interruptions. Relying on God's
pardoning mercy must tend, if any thing can, to bring
the heart into a state of rest. It removes at once the
grand source of perturbation, namely, dread of God as
an avenging Lawgiver. To say that a man believes
in the Lord Jesus Christ, is to say, that he consents
to be saved freely by the Saviour's righteousness :
and he who does so, needs look no further, but
dwells secure as in a citadel : " He that believeth
shall not make haste." He has found his home :
he rests.

3. Spiritual Quiet ])roceeds from Peace of Con-

164 CONSOLATION.

science. If you have not been seared as witli a red-
hot iron, you know tlie agitation produced by re-
morse ; and if you have had much conviction of sin,
you know that there can be no settled quiet, while
this internal enemy rages. Only carry these agita-
tions to their highest degree, and you produce the
anguish of the damned. How can a man be at
peace, with an evil conscience ? Even amidst his
pleasures, it utters its penetrating cry : and all within
him asserts his guilt and condemnation. There is
but one cure for this malady, and that is the blood
of the Lord Jesus Christ sprinkled upon the con-
science. The figure is derived from the Levitical
ordinance ; where the offender, after ofPering sacri-
fice was sprinkled with the blood, and went home
satisfied that his guilt was taken away. " Purge me
with hyssop, and I shall be clean : wash me, and I
shall be whiter than snow." When faith has ap-
proached the altar, and laid its hand on the head
of the expiatory lamb, the Holy Spirit of God per-
forms a work on the soul, which in sacrificial lan-
guage is called the sj)rinkling of Christ's blood. It
is such an inward application of the work of Christ,
as convinces and persuades the soul, that its justifi
cation is complete, that guilt is removed, and that
God's anger is taken away. And this persuasion
tends to gentle repose. As when on a bed of sick
ness, the patient is suddenly relieved from parching
fever, with its heat, its thirst, its watchings, its inde-
scribable restlessness (apt image of a sinful state),
and finds himself bedewed with the bland tokens

EEST IN GOD. 165

of convalescence : even tliougli feeble, lie delights
in the change, and lies still in the consciousness of
peace, willing like an infant to yield himself to the
almost voluptuous calm : so the sinner, when first
he feels the security of being reconciled, leans on the
bosom of his Lord, and returns to his rest.

4. Spiritual Quiet is promoted hy the Mortificor
tion of Sin. Sin is the sole cause of all the discord,
perturbation, and misery that there is in the uni-
verse. The Holy Spirit begins at regeneration a
work which is to end in extirpation of all sin : but
it is not accomplished in a moment. Eegeneration
is the beginning of sanctification ; and sanctification
consists in some good measure, in the gradual destruc-
tion of evil principles, which in Scri]3ture is compared
to the putting to death (mortification) of a human
body, by a violent and painful process, like that of
crucifixion. In carrying on this process, the sancti-
fying Spirit is by the same means promoting purity
and promoting peace. It was sin that produced the
disorderly commotion ; it was sin that tore the
heart ; it was sin that let loose all the fierce winds
of passion to howl tempestuously over the unregene-
rate mind. If you catalogue the causes of your dis-
content, your restlessness, your excitement, your fe-
verish fretfalness, you will find the names to be such
as these : Pride, Hate, Envy, Eevenge, Anger, Lust,
Covetousness, Fear, Inordinate Affection. Till these
caged wild beasts are driven out of the soul, there
can be no quietness : sanctification drives them out.
Therefore, the more a man advances in piety, the

166 CONSOLATION.

more his inward tranquillity onght to increase. The
day grows calmer, as the sun draws near its setting :
hence the sweet radiance which we sometimes be-
hold playiug about the cottage of Christian old
age ; where the gentle breezes that open a way for
themselves among the autumn-clusters, in the cool
of the day, betoken the peace that is within.

5. Spiritital Quiet is favoured by Suhynission,
The first law of religion is submission : " Thy will be
done ;" and where it does not exist there is no piety,
and just as truly there is no tranquillity. What a
hideous sight to see a human creature in full rebel-
lion against God's providence ; repining at his allot-
ments ; fighting against his dispensations, and curs-
ing his judgments ! But it is not more sinful than
it is wretched ; and hell is not only wickedness, but
woe : the wickedness makes the woe, or rather is the
woe. The true recipe for miserable existence is
this : Quarrel with Providence. Even in the smaller
measures of this temper there is enough to prevent
tranquillity. And hence, when God means to make
us happy, he teaches us submission — a resignation
of every thing into his hands, and an acknowledg-
ment that whatsoever He does is wisest and best. O
how sweetly even afiflictions fall when there is such
a temper to receive them ! "Shall we receive good
at the hands of the Lord, and shall we not receive
evil V " Why should a living man complain, a
man for the punishment of his sins ?" Such disjDO-
sitions tend to stillness of soul ; and even amidst
chastisement there is internal quiet.

REST IN GOD. 16 7

6. Spiritual Quiet is fwrtliered hy Trust in God,
How large a portion of our anxious perturbations
arise from forebodings of future evils ! Could we
expel sinful fear from our souls, we sliould be tappy.
But Avlio can destroy tliis monster ? God only ; and
lie graciously accomplishes it by shedding trustful-
ness over the mind, like oil over the waves. This is
altogether different from the blind, unfounded, pre-
sumptuous assurance of the future which character-
izes many persons of sangume temperament. It is
a covenant blessing. Trust is belief of God's pro-
mises. Those who wander about in the world, with-
out any reliance on divine promise, are orphans,
and call for our commiseration. The believer has
assurances for a great while yet to come. His filial
relation to God makes him look on the future with
new eyes. Whatever may befall him, one thing is
certain, nothing can come but what God ordains.
" All things work together for good to them that love
God." His life is insured. In proportion to his
strength of trust is he raised above all those vexa-
tious apprehensions which men of the world expe-
rience. In his happier hours he is enabled to put
in practice his Lord's direction, and to cease taking
thought for the morrow. We should all be more
composed if we could do so. The opposite temper
is destructive of all peace, and of much usefulness ;
and if we would reach the higher attainments in
piety, we must make up our minds to banish for
ever the habit of musing on future and possi])le ills.
How serene and balanced is the soul which has so

168 CONSOLATION.

fixed itself on God as to feel satisfied tliat all Ms dis
pensations are part of a matcHess plan for its good !
Y. Spiritual Quietness consists^ in a great degree^
m Holy ConteYYvplation and Communion with God.
I know how strange a dialect tliis must seem to the
children of this world; but we stand not before
their tribunal. As we believe the delights of para-
dise consisted not so much in tilling the garden,
which was the vocation and outward business of
man, as in the viewing the Creator in all his works,
and in gazing up into his face of love : and as, in
the renewed Eden of heaven we know that the bless-
edness of saints will be much in the beatific vision
of Divinity, so here, also, in our journey to Canaan,
we are persuaded that a leading part of our Christi-
anity consists in the contemplation of God's excel-
lencies, and in fellowship with the Father and with
the Son, through the influences of the Holy Spirit.
We were made for this intercourse, and there is no
higher exercise of human faculties. Moses knew
this, when he made it his great request : " Show me
thy glory !" But what it chiefly behooves me to
observe is, that this exercise of soul, so high, so hal-
lowed, so acceptable to God, is far from being
stormy and impetuous, but is transacted in the pro-
foundest depths of the soul's silence. It is when the
hum of life has ceased, is shut out, or is forsaken ; at
midnight — l^eside the ocean, on the mountain top ; on
our knees, or prostrate on our faces ; that we yield to
those sublime and unutterable thoughts. In the
lives of Augustine, Edwards, and Brainerd, you will

BEST IN GOD. 169

learn more than I can teach of this wisdom. It
doth not strive, nor cry, nor lift up its voice in the
streets. It is bent not so much on pubhc works,
however useful, as on the hidden work of the heart,
which none can see but God. It seeks retirement,
and even solitude, though not to the neglect of in-
cumbent duties. By such means as these God may
be served worthily, and even gloriously, by the in-
firm man and the shrinking woman, who cannot so
much as stir out of their chamber, or who, perad ven-
ture, never leave their beds. For it is a work of
silence and tranquillity. It shuns the glare of day,
and the observation of men ; and even this very fee-
ble account of it suffers from being made amidst a
world to which it stands so much in contrast. For
nothing can be more uncongenial with the peace of
God than the busy, hurrying, loquacious, self-seek-
ing spirit of earthly employment. I fear not to say
this, as believing that there can be no danger, in
any infusion of contemplative religion which we can
possibly make, into the habits of our age and coun-
try. Between the slavish toil of business, the ar-
dent fever of covetousness, the madness of ambition,
and the foolery of fashionable amusements, which has
at length descended to the toys of harlequin, and
the provocatives of the licentious dance ; among all
these causes of excitement there is not much danger
of an over-attention to inward and spiritual work.
A few there ivill still be who, in remote spots, will
commune with God, and antedate the enjoyments of
heaven.

lYO CONSOLATION.

Having dwelt thus far on some of tlie sources
of spiritual quiet, I would now, in order to rescue it
from misapj)reliension, point out some notes of dis-
crimination, with, a passing view to certain counter-
feits : for, like all tliat is precious, it lias not failed to
liave its imitations.

1. The calmness of the Ohristicm is not stiqnd
ignorance. Men may be quiet for want of k]iow-
ledge ; as we frequently see exemj)lified in tlie case
of tlie vulgar and illiterate, and more particularly in
tlie savage, who, after the gratification of kis appe-
tites, subsides into a state like tbat of tte cattle
reposing in tbe pasture. Phlegmatic temperaments
readily give way to such tranquillity, which is slumber
rather than calm. But we must not mistake. The
blessing of Christian peace which Christ confers on
his disciples, is not a negative condition ; still less is
it to be ascribed to dulness or emptiness. It in-
creases with knowledge : the more truth, the more
quietness. Knowledge of the truth is its very foun-
dation.

2. It is compatible with high mental activity.
This is the more important to be said, because there
have been some, chiefly in the Church of Kome, but
with imitators among Protestants, who have placed
the highest spiritual exercises in such a rest of soul,
as excludes all intellectual exertion. The soul so
rests in God, as no longer to think. It forgets all
things, and turning inwards is absorbed in one per-
vading idea of rest in God. This is what has been
called Quietism. But this is delusion, against which

EEST m GOD. 171

one can hardly protest with too much earnestness.
God has never meant the glory of man, his reason,
to be excluded from the noblest exercises of religion.
The quietude pretended, in which all mental activ-
ities are swallowed up, would be less like the sub-
lime condition of an intellectual being, than the
vacancy of childhood or the imbecility of age. It
might be accepted as relief from pain, but could not
be chosen as the means of happiness. That state in
which the soul neither thinks nor wills, is not a
heavenly state. In true spiritual quiet the mind
chooses to be at rest. It is not the calm of stupor,
as when one lies in a lethargic sleep, but the rest
of the wearied labourer in his beloved home. The
rest of a soul in God, though infinitely removed from
the agitations of the world, and its conflicting and
distressing reasonings, is, nevertheless, a state in
which the thoughts are active : seeking after God,
apprehending him, appropriating and enjoying him.
The seraphs that adore and burn, are intellectual
creatures ; and we conceive of the saints in heaven
as knowing, learning, and putting forth those mental
exertions, which tend to the perpetual advancement
and expansion of their powers. A heaven in which
there is no intellectual activity would be no heaven for
a rational creature ; and it is a gross, though com-
mon abuse of the term rest, to apply it to a drowsy,
listless, unimproving eternity: though heaven is a
rest, it is neither a dream nor a sleep.

3. The rest of a pious soul in God is not incoTir
sistent with active service. Even in heaven, as we

172 CONSOLATION.

read, " his servants shall serve liim." They shall have
fit employments there, labour without weariness ; and
the best we can do in this world is to imitate their
activity. The controversy between the contem-
plative and the active life has been very earnestl}^
waged ; and able arguments have been urged on both
sides. One party has been for spending the whole
life in angelic meditation : the other has made all
piety consist in going about and doing good. The
tendency of the middle ages was to the contem-
plative, of this our nineteenth century to the active
life ; and each in extremes. The days of hermits
and anchorets, like those of the Thebaid ; of monks,
and nuns, pretending or endeavouring to mortify the
flesh, and live in continual silence, grief and vision
of God, have passed away. We have fallen on days
in which there is such a bounty on haste, energy,
and fruitful toil, that avarice robs God of his sabbath,
drives its gainful wheels seven days in the week, and
busy mortals can scarcely find time to read and pray,
or to bless their famihes. But the active and the
contemplative coincide in the religion of the gospel.
Its divine founder sj)ent whole nights in prayer to
God, in deserts and mountains ; but his days were
active — " he went about doing good." The rest, to
which you are invited, is not the mere absence of
bodily motion. It is a more refined idea. It is even
consistent with active labour, of any virtuous kind.
The pious soul is never more at rest, than when most
busily engaged in appropriate external duties. True
Christianity does not cut off such duties : this was

REST IN GOD. 173

the error of times when thousands of thriftless per-
sons forsook the plough and the loom, and thronged
in pilgrimages and into cloisters. Spiritual quiet of
soul coexists with lawful activity, and sanctifies it.
No man has therefore any right to make his religion
a cloak for idleness, whether in church or state.

4. What is still moi'e surprising, Ohristian rest
may he maintained amidst trials and suffering.
Here it distinguishes itself from any thing which
the world calls by its name. Worldly persons
have their enjoyments; but they are dependent
on worldly things, and when these are broken or
removed, the tranquillity ceases. It is the glory of
true religion, that it can be firm and serene amidst
storms of change. In days of prosperity, when all
things smile, it is easy to maintain quiet of soul: but
when skies grow dark, when friends are few, when
health fails, when losses and bereavements and old
age come on, and misfortunes thicken every hour —
to be tranquil then — to feel that all is safe — ^that the
real portion has not been touched — that God is still
the same, and that he is om^s ; this is what cannot be
comprehended by the man of the world, or by the
formal professor. And yet it is true, and is exem-
plified in a thousand cases of distress and consolation.
Were it not so, such songs as the forty-sixth psalm
had long since been blotted out of the psalter, as
containing idle falsehood : whereas, generation after
generation in the church for nearly three thousand
years has been singing with experience and triumph :
" Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be re-

174 CONSOLATION.

moved, and tHongli tlie mountains be carried into tlie
midst of tlie sea: tliougli the waters thereof roar and
be troubled, tliough the mountains shake with the
swelling thereof" If you would see the true victory
over the world, visit the experienced Christian
amidst his trials. At the fii'st he may indeed be
shaken for a little season in order that he may the
better feel the solid foundation under his feet : but
at length he finds his footing on the Rock of Ages,
and can cry, " Lo ! this is our God ; we have waited
for him, and he will save us : this is the Lord ; we
have waited *for him, we will be glad and rejoice in
his salvation." Seeing, therefore, that such causes
of agitation will and must come, it will be the part of
wisdom to prepare ourselves with, the means of in-
ward quiet: and what means are these, but that
which our subject points out? The lesson is not to
be learnt at once, nor without some severe discipline :
our trials are intended to teach it. The moment is
a joyful one, when it is acquired. The Psalmist
seems to have been thus led to the utterances of the
hundred and sixteenth psalm. It was the perform-
ing of his vow and the expression of his thank-
fulness. He had been in no common adversities;
he had felt the need of rest: "The sorrows of
death compassed me, the pains of hell gat hold
upon me, I found trouble and sorrow." But in his
affliction he cried to God, and with success. " The
Lord preserveth the simple ; I was brought low and
he helped me : Return unto thy rest, O my soul, for
the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee !" It was

EEST IN GOD. 1^5

the sense of God's mercy to him in aiHiction, whicli
led him to return to God as his rest. That is bless-
ed affliction which has this result. It is the prop-
evtj of trials, to show men where their refuge is. If,
in hours of sadness, we lean on an arm of flesh, or seek
comfort from earthly gains, diversions and excite-
ments, it proves us to be carnal ; if, on the contrary,
every cloud of trouble only makes us more deter-
minately seek om* heaven in God's nature and prom-
ises ; and if we never love and prize his covenant of
redemption, more than when we are smarting under
his I'od, it affords us good reason to think that we
have been renewed in the sjDirit of our minds. But
even true believers have much yet to learn, and
often need to be exhorted to return to God. In pro-
portion as they wander, they lose their tranquillity
of mind ; though for a time they may not know the
reason; they only know that they are disquieted.
At length, some heavy, sudden blow awakens them
from their worldly dream, and they look around in
wild alarm for the God and Father whom they have
neglected. Then they begin to discover that the
soul has no rest but in God, and feel their need of
returning to this.

Many persons are sufficiently persuaded of the
world's unsatisfactoriness, but have taken no steps
towards the supply of their great want. You,
let me say, are the very persons to whom religion
ought to be welcome. It is the very repose you
need. In vain do you weary yourselves, to procure
rest by any other means. It is not in the creature.

1T6 CONSOLATION.

You were made to repose in God. You deny your
souls tlieir chief blessing, wliile you remain alienated
from liim. And liow strange is the illusion which
prompts your delay ! Your procrastination is a put-
ting off of the happiness which you might be begin-
ning to enjoy, and which would be always the
greater during your whole existence, for your having
begun now. Are there not moments when you ate
almost disgusted with life? when your pleasures
have no longer any zest ? when comj^unction more
than neutralizes your joys ? when, in a word, you feel
your need of God ? Though there is nothing neces-
sarily holy in these sentiments, they bring you
nearer the borders of a religious life ; they should be
seized on, as so many promptings to fulfil your grand
obligation. Do you ask me what I would have you
to do ? The answer is eas}^, and it is momentous.
Return to your rest. Return, return ! O wanderer,
you are in the wrong path. Every step takes you
further away. Never can you sui3ply these crav-
ings, or quell these perturbations, but by coming to
Him, who is the Infinite Portion and the Everlasting
Rest. That wearied, vexed, and pained head re-
quires a pillow. Is it not time to rest ? Have
you not pursued long enough the vanities of the
world ? Are you willing to be for ever rej^eating
the old experiment, with the same resulting disap-
pointment ? Shall not the increasing cares of life
teach you to seek consolation? When you were
younger, you thought, perhaps, that wealth would
give you tranquilhty : now that you have attained it,

EEST m GOD. Ill

you find tlie care of it as perplexing as tlie acquisi-
tion. Or if still in tlie turmoil of worldly business,
you need but an bour of serious reflection to make
you sure tbat neitber tbis, nor augbt Hke tbis, can
insure your peace. Tbe voice still cries, " Keturn."
Tbe Fatber wbom you bave abandoned in your sin
and folly is still willing to receive you — to see you
at a distance — to fall upon your neck and kiss you.
Tbe way of return you know, for you know Him
wbo saitb, "I am tbe Way, tbe Trutb, and tbe
Life." In tbis view, bow can we ever be tbankfiil
enougb for tbe trutb, tbat Jesus Cbrist is tbe most
accessible being in' tbe universe ! He is ever stand-
ing, witbin bis door of mercy, ready to tbrow it
wide at tbe first and feeblest knock. He does not
wait for us to ask leave to petition, but says to us,
Ask — seek — knock ! It is bis province to give tbe
weary rest, and to conduct to tbe Fatber for tbat
purpose. Tbere is no otber way, and if you are
seeking otbers, you are wasting your time, and lay-
ing up disappointment. Wbat sball you do to gain
tbis desired repose? Let me basten to tell you.
Dismiss all otber concerns, wbicb you can intermit
witbout sin, and devote yourself to tbis. Wbat
would you do, if your estate were balancing on a
point — if your life were in jeopardy? You would
forsake all, for tbis one tiling. Is any tbing more
precious tban your soul ? Is any tbing longer tban
eternity or gi^eater tban God ? Tbe cbarge wbicb
we bave to bring against tbe cbildren of tbis world
i?, tbat in respect to rebgion, tbey turn tbeir backs

178 CONSOLATION.

on all the safe maxims which regulate their actions
in lesser things. If a man's property is endangered
— if his investments are insecure — if his house is di-
lapidated— if his business is unproductive — if his
family is diseased — these, or any one of these secular
troubles engrosses his attention. He turns his mind
upon this single point as his great study. He is not
content to consider it now and then, in intervals of
business, when other persons speak of it — when
some friend urges it upon him ; — I mean to say he
does not treat this great worldly topic as you are
habitually treating the salvation of your soul. JSTo !
He broods over it. He sets apart time for it. He
takes advisement on it. It becomes his fixed idea;
in his house and by the way ; it retires with him ;
it awakens him in the night ; it rises with him ; it
hangs over him as a cloud, and darkens all his pros-
pect. The feast is no longer joyful; the cup no
longer exhilarates; the music has no melody, and
day no sunshine, till this importunate, haunting
anxiety is satisfied and dismissed. And let me assure
my readers, just so, just so^ will you be affected, if
at any time the care of your soul shall become an
object of pursuit as really as your earthly interest
now is. You have possibly seen a man so unsettled,
as to let his business, health, and family go to de-
struction, while in his infatuation, he has left all to
chance, and thrown himself away. Precisely thus
you are doing with your soul. Is it not so ? Do
you ever bestow on this transcendent interest one
hour of sober planning? And yet you complain

EEST m GOD. 1^9

that you cannot attain to rest! Pursuing your
present course, it is certain you never will. O be
persuaded to consider and to return ! When shall
you begin? Now! This moment! The path,
though infinitely important, is, in respect to time,
short.

CHRISTIAN JOY EXPELLING THE DIS-
TRESSES OF THE SOUL.

VIII.

THE blessed Spirit of God is wont to destroy evil
principles in tlie heart, by implanting such as are
good; to wean the affections from the world, by
attaching them to heaven ; and to take away the
sense of great trials, by shedding abroad the love of
God in the heart. This mode of operation is obvi-
ous. If we can be made glad, our sorrows pass
away ; and to say that any one rejoices, is to say
that he has full consolation. If, therefore, the most
inveterate case of suffering, in a forlorn old age,
could only be visited by the smiles of God's counte-
nance, no more would be necessary, in order to en-
tire relief.

In looking at little children — those delightful
objects to which Christ has condescended to dii'ect
our eyes — we cannot fail to be struck with their
joys, and to contrast them with the pleasures of
after years. In their gambols there is the ebullition
of a gladness, that is unsought, unfeigned, and heart-
felt. Very different are the mirth and excitement
of more mature life. After the natm^al elasticity
of youth is gone, men try eveiy mode of artificial
stimulation. But with all their endeavoui^, there

184 CONSOLATION.

are dregs at tlie bottom of tlieir raost foaming cup,
Their best excitements are tlie short-lived flame of
some light, transitory material. May not the ap-
peal be made to every reader ? As you go on in
life, you find, disguise it as you may, that the sus-
ceptibility for high pleasures is abated. You dis-
cover yourself to be grave, when all around you are
in laughter. You are ready to judge austerely of
the hilarity of youth, and to wonder how they can
be so enchanted with a bubble, when, forsooth, your
own bubble is only larger and heavier and duller.
Now and then you pause before some scene or ob-
ject, which, twenty years ago, set all your pulses in
motion ; you are loth to confess it, but all within
you is dead. In vain do you endeavour to repro-
duce the romance of your childhood; to rekindle
the fire among your embers ; to restore the faded
colours on the canvas. Your eye fastens itself on the
long procession of departing youthful joys, growing
smaller and dimmer in the distant perspective. The
truth is, earthly joys are every day diminishing, and
the susceptibility of pleasurable excitement from
earthly causes grows less and less, with the decay of
natural sensibility. This would be a melancholy
truth, if we had no resource but terrestrial things,
and no world but this. But thanks be to God, there
are susceptibilities which do not grow old, and capa-
cities which increase with exercise. And while
earthly excitements lose their power, those which
are heavenly grow stronger and stronger. Hence, an

CHRISTIAN JOY. 185

old age witliout religion involves the loss of both
worlds.

There is no' class of words more abundant in the
Scriptures than those which express the varieties of
joy. And this affords a new proof of God's infinite
benevolence, that he has made it our religion to be
happy. In calling us to leave the world, he is only
calling us to heaven. In exhorting us to believe,
and hope, and love, he only summons us to that har-
mony of the powers, which tends to their most bliss-
ful exercise. And hence, in the tender and affecting
discourses which the Lord held with his disciples
after the Eucharist, he principally speaks of the In-
dwelling Comforter, as the Author of their promised
happiness. Having promised them peace, his own
peace, he goes on to promise them joy, even his own
joy. " These things have I spoken unto you, that
my joy might remain in you, and that your joy
might be full."

We may consider, first, the beginnings of this
joy, in those who are effectually called; secondly,
and as our chief topic, the progress of joy, m the ha-
bitual walk of God's people ; thirdly, in few words,
the power of joy to overcome earthly troubles; and,
finally, the unspeakable blessing of joy on the bed of
death. And, as we proceed, it should be our pray-
er, that even careless and worldly readers may be
led to see that there is here a pearl of great price,
for joy whereof, a man might well sell all that
he hath, to make the purchase ; which may God
grant !

186 CONSOLATION.

" Joy is a delight of the mind, from the conside-
ration of the present or assured approaching posses-
sion of a good." Rehgious joy is the same delight
of the mind, as caused by religious good. It is a
fruit of the Spirit, and is, therefore, called joy in the
Holy Ghost. It is the subject of our meditations
for a little time.

I. Early Joy demands our attention. There
is a joy which is altogether new, at the time of con-
version. " We joy in God, through our Lord Jesus
Christ, by whom also we receive the atonement."
The degree of this heavenly gift varies exceedingly,
with diversities of character and dispensation ; but
where God gives faith and hope, he usually gives
some joy. You, who now peruse these pages,
call to mind that day of rejoicing, when God
gave you the garment of praise for the spirit of
heaviness. It was emerging from the troubled de-
lirious dream of a long illness. Doubtless there are
those also who can remember great joys, seasons of
exultation, when the day broke, and the dayspring
arose in their hearts. Let us not doubt or con-
demn those whose experience does not altogether
tally with this, or make that a test of piety which
Christ has not made such ; but let us, nevertheless,
be thankful, that God does communicate these tokens
of favour. And let those who seek God's face, and
desire the light of his countenance, look forward to
this, as a blessing which is not too great to be asked.
These tranquil pleasures cannot be fully represented
by earthly emblems, not even by the calmest vernal

CHEISTIAN JOY. 187

day, or tlie most glassy seas. There are raany con-
curring sources of this joy. There is, for example,
the exulting transport of escape. Shall the rescued
mariner exult when he stands drij)ping upon his
rock among the fragments of a shipwreck ? And
shall not the rescued sinner rejoice, when God has
freely pardoned all his sins ? There is joy in safety.
There is joy in feeling for the first time in life that
one is in his true orbit, moving in his right direction,
and with powers engaged agreeably to their intent
and creation. There is joy in opening the eyes on
new heavens and a new earth ; in joining the band
of new companions ; feeling the pressure of their
ardent hand ; catching the enthusiasm of fellowship,
and wandering onward in paths strewed with mer-
cies, and overshadowed with graces, and clustered
over with fruits of benignant love. There was joy
in the outburst of gratitude, and joy even in the
tears with which you bedewed the sacred feet of
Him who raised you in his arms, and freely forgave
you all. But, having now touched on the beginning
of joys, I reserve for another head of remark, those
manifestatioDS which are common to both.

II. Joy in Progress is next to be considered.
It would be a great blessing, even if it ceased : but
it goes along with the believer. Its source is peren-
nial. It is His joy. It is his joy which "remains in
them." The spiritual Israel have all drunk of that
Spiritual Rock, which follows them, and that rock
is Christ. It is a part of that communion in grace,
which the members of the invisi])le church have

188 CONSOLATION.

with Christ, partaking of the virtue of his mediation ;
first in their renewal, and then in these blessings
which manifest their union with him. Thus united,
they have communicated to them, even in their life,
the first-fruits of glory with Christ, as they are
members of him their head, and so in him are in-
terested in that glory which he is fully possessed of.
As an earnest of this, they have some measure of
joy. Hence, when we hear of conversions at An-
tioch, we read, " And the disciples were filled with
joy and with the Holy Ghost." Acts 13 : 52. The
difficulty here is to keep within bounds. Through
the tender mercy of our God, the sources of reli-
gious joy are almost as numerous as the parts of re-
ligion itself. Among such a wilderness of delights,
we must be brief, and must classify a little. The
joys, then, of the believer, may be arranged in a
threefold division. For they may be those which
come home at once and directly to his own private
happiness — or they may be those which he receives
through the happiness of others — or they may be
those which come from his new-born interest in the
glory of God ; exulting in God, and in the accom-
plishment of his will.

1. The joy of a Christian heart is sometimes the
joy of hiowledge. To the stupid uninquiring mind,
this seems strange : yet even to the natural intellect
the acquisition of light brings ecstasy. Hence the
enthusiasm and self-martyrdom of scholars and dis-
coverers. Think you any sensual pleasure ever
equalled that of Archimedes, when he hung over

CHEISTIAN JOY. 189

the theorem from wMdi only death could tear him ;
or of Franklin when he touched the pendant key,
and gave the spark which opened a new world to
science ? Who can picture the transport of early
philosophers, or inquiring Jews, when they first wel-
comed the great Christian revelations ? The truths
which are common-place to us, were to them the
very lights of heaven. There is sweetness in the ac-
quisition of knowledge, especially of religious know-
ledge. God's word is sweeter than honey and the
honeycomb. With a meager revelation, compared
with ours, David could sing : "I have rejoiced in the
way of thy testimonies, as much as in all riches ;"
and " I rejoice in thy word, as one that findeth great
spoil ;" and " thy testimonies have I taken as a heri-
tage for ever : for they are the rejoicing of my
heart." This will be yet more apparent, when it is
considered, that in the august and glorious charac-
ter of God, the believer has an object of knowledge,
which infinitely surpasses all others, and is indeed
all-comprehensive. The prayer of every saint vnR
be that of Moses : " I beseech thee, show me thy
glory !" We must include in this, the serene enjoy-
ment which is experienced in the contemplation of
the Divine Excellence, when intellectual acts are
lost in the devout vision of Him whom angels wor-
ship. Here are pleasures which have in them no-
thing selfish, and which may even leave far behind
all respect whatever to our own personal interest.
God himself is the happiness, the joy, the life of his

190 CONSOLATION

people. " This is eternal life, to know thee, the only
true God, and Jesns Christ, whom thou hast sent."

2. Thus we are imperceptibly led to the joy of
communion. The bond of connection is Chnst.
Through him we have access to the Father. He is
continually approachable at the mercy-seat. Faith
beholds him, devotion cleaves to him, love enjoys
him. The disciple can rejoice that God is a recon-
ciled Father, and that nothing can separate from his
love. After union by the covenant, each separate
attribute becomes a source of delight; and he re-
joices in the very being of Jehovah ; that he is, and
such as he is. " The Lord reigneth, let the earth
rejoice !" And when there is added to this, the un-
paralleled exhibition of divinity, in the plan of
grace, and the blending of all God's perfections at
the cross, nothing further need be added. God
himself, I say, is the Joy of saints. They " rejoice
in the Lord," and "glory in the Holy One." Is. 41.
" I will greatly rejoice in the Lord, my soul shall be
joyful in my God : for he hath clothed me with the
garments of salvation, he hath covered me with the
robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decketh him-
self with ornaments, and as a bride adorneth herself
with her jewels." Is. 61 : 10. This is a joy which
remains, as Christ's gift, with his people, as long as
the covenant of peace remaineth.

3. The Joy of WorsJiip is but a step removed,
and is common to all believers. It is in worship,
that these exalted views of God are obtained. Medi-
tation may lay the wood and the offering : but devo-

CHRISTIAN JOY. 191

tion kindles the fire of the altar. To pray to such
a God, so beheld, is to rise in joy fulness towards
heaven. To praise him, under any true a23prehen-
sion of his excellency, is joy unspeakable and full of
glory. Employ this, beloved, as a test of Christian
character. To the unrenewed mind, prayer is al-
ways a task, if not a burden ; it may be performed,
but it is never enjoyed ; a needful remedy, perhaps,
but not a refreshment or a delight. But if the testi-
mony of your heart is, that prayer is among your
chosen comforts — if your closet is a beloved refuge —
if you feel the loss or interruption of this intercourse
to be a cross and a trial — if even sometimes your
affections overflow and your heart flows out towards
Christ : then, my prevalent thought is, that you
are a child of God, and an heir of grace. The hypo-
crite wdll not always pray. It is worship which
makes the joy of Sanctuaries. When the whole
congregation rises in prayer, and the united, respect-
ful, adoring, exulting exercises of many souls goes
along with the voice of him who leads ; or when all
voices of a great assembly send up the sound of
psalmody, without the exception of a single organ
that has the capacity ; then are granted moments,
long to be remembered, as an antepast of heaven.
Here is the great attraction of God's house, which
caused the psalmist to cry (Ps. 43 : 3) : " O send out
thy light and thy truth ; let them lead me : let them
bring me unto thy holy hill, and to thy tabernacles :
then will I go unto the altar of God, unto God my
exceeding joy," or more literally, " unto God the

192 CONSOLATION.

gladness of my joy." And it is predicted, as part
of the glory of a latter day, when foreign tribes shall
take hold of God's covenant, I will bring them " to
my holy mountain, and make them joyful in my
house of prayer." Is. 56 : Y.

4. The Joy of a neiv nature is too important
to be omitted. It is the misery of the wicked that
he is an instrument out of tune ; and the discordant
strings are so many nerves, vital and sentient, and
carrying anguish to the centre of feeling. But when
the harp is new- strung; when the hand of grace
moves over the harmonious chords ; when the con-
sciousness of the sanctified heart testifies that unity
and love are at least preluding the choral joys of
heaven, it is a breath of Heaven's health. Con-
science, being pacified, allows the affections to rise
and mingle in their strength. Every good thought,
feeling, word, or work, is accompanied with such a
measure of complacency as may consist with humili-
ty and penitence. " Beloved, if our hearts condemn
us not, then have we confidence toward God." 1
John 3 : 21. Then it is that the behever can add:
" We are in him that is true, even in his Son Jesus
Christ: this is the true God, and eternal life." 1
John 5 : 20.

5. Then follows the Joy of Possession. There
can be none greater than when the soul can say,
" ]\Ty Lord and my God ;" " my Beloved is mine,
and I am his ;" " I know whom I have believed."
This is not merely to know God, but to know
him ours ; to behold his perfections ranged on our

0HEI8TIAN JOY. 193

part ; to enter into his fulness and partake of his
love. Then the heart finds its true, inexhausti-
ble portion, for which it was made, to which all its
capacities are suited, and which will constitute its
eternal heaven. " Whom have I in heaven but thee ?
and there is none upon earth that I desu'e beside
thee." Ps. TB : 25. " Far be it from thy servant
(says Augustine) who confesseth to thee, O Lord,
far be it from thy servant to rejoice in any other joy,
so as to make it his happiness ! For there is a joy
which is not given to the wicked, but to those who
serve thee freely, of whom thou art thyself the very
joy. And the true happy life is to have joy to-
w^ards thee, concerning thee, on account of thee ;*
this it is, and not another." Or in the words of a
modern saint :f " Offer up thyself wholly to Him, and
^x the point of thy love upon his most blessed in-
created love ; and there let thy soul and heart rest and
delight, and be as it were resolved and melted most
happily into the blessed Godhead ; and then take that
as a token, and be assured by it that God will grant
thy lovely and holy desires. Say, ' I am nothing, I
have nothing, I can do nothing, and I desire nothing
but One.' " These higher exercises may be wanting,
and yet true piety may exist.

6. To these modes of renewed emotion must be
added the Joy of lioly Excitement. Man was not
made to be stagnant. The sails are for the breeze,
and for progress. There is no Castle of Indolence in
all our goodly land. There is no languid happi-

* Gaudere ad te, de te, propter to. t Leighton,

13

194 CONSOLATION.

ness, no lethargic Christianity. He who would steer
clear of all excitement may as well bid adieu to the
coasts of joy, which is the highest excitement. The
stream of human passions is admitted into a new
channel, but it runs full. There is enough in gospel
motives to carry the tide to its utmost. Scripture
expressions lead us to think that it was so in the
early day. "These things," said Christ, "have I
spoken unto you that your joy might be full," — a
sentiment echoed thirty-three years after by the be-
loved disciple: "And these things write we unto
you that your joy may be full." 1 John 1 : 4. The
powers must be on the stretch, in order to give the
highest joy. The muscle must be in action, or suffer.
And hence a life of Christian activity is the greatest
means of enjoyment. Christ's chief joy is not for the
couch, unless, indeed, it be the couch of weakness or
pain sent by Him ; and then suffering in all respects
takes the place of action. " They also serve who
only stand and wait ;" but Christ's chief joy is in the
conscious putting forth of grace ; when the soul can
say : " I know both how to be abased, and how to
abound : I can do all things through Christ which
strengtheneth me." Phil. 4:12.

In speaking of the height to which joyful Chris-
tian experience may rise, even in this life, it is al-
lowable to adduce one or two instances from the
recorded exercises of eminent Christians in different
periods of the church. But we must do this with a
caution premised. These attainments are unusual
and extraordinary, and are not to be regarded as

CHEISTIAN JOY. 195

common to all believers. Tlie consideration of them
should not dishearten those disciples who have been
called to walk in lowlier paths. The genuine faith
of God's elect may exist without these raptures.
Yet they serve to magnify the love of the Spirit,
and to show how rich the effusions of grace may be
when the sovereignty of the Giver so d.ecrees.

The first instance which shall be cited is that of
the learned orthodox and pious John Flavel, a man
every way remote from credulity and superstition. In
a treatise of his on the soul of man, he gives the fol-
lowing narrative, which, though in the third person,
has always with justice been considered to relate to
himself: "I have," says he, "with good assurance
this account of a minister, who being alone in a
journey, and willing to make the best improvement
he could of that day's solitude, set himself to a close
examination of the state of his soul, and then of the
life to come, and the manner of its being, and living
in heaven, in the views of all those things which are
now pure objects of faith and hope. After a while,
he perceived his thoughts begin to ^, and come
closer to those great and astonishing things than
wa^ usual ; and as his mind settled upon them, his
affections began to rise with answerable livehness
and vigour.

" He, therefore, while yet master of his own
thoughts, lifted up his heart to God in a short ejac-
ulation, that God would so order it in his provi-
dence that he might meet with no interruption from
company, or any other accident, in that journey,

196 CONSOLATION.

wMch. was granted him ; for in all that day's jour-
ney lie neither met, overtook, nor was overtaken of
any. Thus going on his way, his thoughts began to
swell and rise higher and higher, like the waters
in Ezekiel's vision, till at last they became an over-
flowing flood. Such was the intention of his mind,
such the ravishing tastes of heavenly joys, and such
the full assurance of his interest therein, that he
utterly lost sight and sense of this world, and all
the concerns thereof, and for some hours knew no
more where he was than if he had been in a deep
sleep upon his bed. At last he began to perceive
himself very faint, and almost choked with blood,
which, running in abundance from his nose, had dis-
coloured his clothes and his horse, from the shoulder
to the hoof He found himself almost spent, and
nature to faint under the pressure of joy unspeak-
able and unsupportable ; and at last perceiving a
spring of water in his way, he, with some difficulty,
alighted to cleanse and cool his face and hands.

" By that spring he sat down and washed, ear-
nestly desiring, if it were the pleasure of God, that
it might be his parting-place from this world. He
said, death had the most amiable face, in his eye, j
that ever he beheld, except the face of Jesus Christ,
which made it so ; and that he could not remember
(though he believed he should die there) that he
had once thought of his dear wife or children, or any
earthly concernment. But having drunk of that
spring, his spirit revived, his blood stanched, and
he mounted his horse again ; and on he went, in the

CHRISTIAN JOY. 197

same frame of spiiit, till lie had finislied a journey of
near thirty miles, and came at niglit to his inn,
where being come, he greatly admired how he had
come thither ; that his horse, without his direction,
had brought him thither, and that he fell not all that
day, which passed not without several trances of con-
siderable continuance.

"All this night passed without one wink of
sleep, though he never had a sweeter night's rest
in all his life. Still, still, the joy of the Lord over-
flowed him, and he seemed to be an inhabitant of
another world. The next morning being come, he
was early on horseback again, fearing the divertise-
ment of the inn might bereave him of his joy ; for
he said it was now with him as. with a man that
carries a rich treasure about him, who suspects every
passenger to be a thief But within a few hours he
was sensible of the ebbing of the tide, and before
night, though there was a heavenly serenity and
sweet peace upon his spirit, which continued long
with him, yet the transports of joy were over, and
the fine edge of his delight blunted. He, many
years after, called that day one of the days of hea-
ven, and professed he understood more of the life
of heaven by it than by all the books he ever
read, or discourses he ever entertained about it.
This was, indeed, an extraordinary foretaste of hea-
ven for degree, but it came in the ordinary way and
method of faith and meditation." *

To this may be added an account which Presi-

* Flavel's Works, fol. vol. i. pp. 501, 502.

198 CONSOLATION.

dent Edwards gives of some remarkable manifesta-
tions of divine favom* to himself' Attention is ask-
ed to those exercises of placid delight, for this rea-
son among others, that the subject of them was no
less eminent as a philosopher than as a Christian,
and was versed in discriminating between what is
false and what is true in religious experience.

Writing of his early religious life, he says : " Ho-
liness, as I then wrote down some of my contempla-
tions on it, appeared to me to be of a sweet, plea-
sant, charming, serene, calm nature, which brought
an inexpressible purity, brightness, peacefulness, and
ravishment to the soul. In other words, that it
made the soul like a field or garden of God, with all
manner of pleasant flowers ; all pleasant, delightful,
and undisturbed ; enjoying a sweet calm, and the
gentle and vivifying beams of the sun. The soul of
a true Christian, as I then wrote my meditations,
appeared like such a little white flower as we see in
the spring of the year; low and humble on the
ground, opening its bosom to receive the pleasant
beams of the sun's glory ; rejoicing as it were in a
calm rapture ; diflPiising around a sweet fragrancy ;
standing peacefully and lovingly, in the midst of
other flowers round about ; all in like manner open-
ing their bosoms to drink in the light of the sun.
There was no part of creature holiness that I had
so great a sense of its loveliness as humility, broken-
ness of heart and poverty of spirit, and there was
nothing that I so earnestly longed for. My heart
panted after this, to lie low before God, as in the

CHEISTIAN JOY. 199

dust, tliat I miglit be notliing, and that God miglit
be ALL ; that I might become as a little child.'' And
again ; " Sometimes only mentioning a single word
causes my heart to burn within me, or only seeing
the name of Christ, or the name of some attribute
of God. And God has appeared glorious to me,
on account of the Trinity. It has made me have ex-
alting thoughts of God, that he subsists in three
persons ; Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. The sweet-
est joys and dehghts I have experienced have not
been those that have arisen from a hope of my own
good estate, but in a direct view of the glorious
things of the gospel.

" Once, as I rode out into the woods, having
alighted from my horse in a retired place for divine
contemplation and prayer, I had a view that for me
was extraordinary, of the glory of the Son of God as
Mediator between God and man, and his wonderful,
great, full, pure, and sweet grace and love, and meek
and gentle condescension. The grace that appeared
so calm and sweet, appeared also great above the
heavens. The person of Christ ajDpeared ineffably
excellent, with an excellency great enough to swal-
low up all thought and conception ; which continu-
ed, as near as I can jndge, about an hour ; which
kept me the greater part of the time in a flood of
tears, and weeping aloud. I felt an ardency of soul
to be — what I know not otherwise how to express —
emptied and annihilated : to lie in the dust and to
be fall of Christ alone; to love him with a holy
and pure love ; to trust in him ; to live upon him ;

200

CONSOLATION.

to serve and follow Mm ; and to be perfectly sancti-
fied and made pure, with a divine and heavenly-
purity." *

All that has been urged might be summed up
in the statement, that Christian joy is produced by
whatsoever brings Christian principle into life and
action ; and holiness gives happiness in its very ex-
ercise, which may suffice, in regard to those joys
which come home directly to the believer's private
happiness. But in the progress of his joys, we
arrive at others, which are reflected, or which rise
out of sympathy with fellow-men. Christianity is not
insulated. JSTo man is regarded by the Master, or
should regard himself, as having a separate interest.
" Look not every man on his own things, but every
man also on the things of others." Phil. 2 : 4.
Hence a new class of joys spring up beyond the self-
ish circle. "Rejoice with them that do rejoice." Rom.
12 : 15. If I am rightly affected, that which
brings good to my brother brings good to me. And
as a large part of Christianity consists in acts of
benevolence, every one of these is a means of joy.
If we would be happy, we must love. We must do
good and communicate. The man who, like his
Master, goes about doing good, walks in a path
perhaps of some sorrows, yet of more joys than any
other on this side heaven. See how remarkably
this was the source of Paul's comforts. He could
not be happy, unless men were saved, so he presses
truth on the Philippians (2 : 16), "that I may re-

* Edwards's Works, Ed. 1844, vol. i. pp. 21, 24.

CHEISTIAN JOY. 201

joice in the day of Christ, that I have not run in vain,
neither laboured in vain." And, in the same strain,
to his beloved Thessalonians (1 Thess. 2 : 19):
" For what is our hope, or joy, or crown of rejoicing ?
Are not ye in the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ
at his coming ? for ye are our glory and joy." The
more we enlarge the circle of our benevolence, even
until it take in the whole race of man, the more do
we widen the field of our enjoyment ; it is an exten-
sion of the sentient surface. It may, it must bring
its pains, but it brings pleasures which the luxury
of the worldling has never surmised. Every cup of
cold water given to the thirsty — every helping hand
offered to the weary — every tear shed over the
desolate — every almsgiving to the worthy or visit
to the dying — every page of the gospel sent to the
ignorant — and every word whispered to the fainting,
come back with a returning wave of joy to the soul
which by grace has originated them. Nowhere,
however, is this sympathetic communication so deli-
cate or so quick as in the mystical body. The web
is a texture all alive to the electric cmTent. God
has so framed the structure of his people, that there
is no insulation ; 1 Cor. 12:26, "that there should
be no schism in the body ; but that the members
should have the same care one for another. And
whether one member suffer, all the members suffer
with it ; or one member be honoured, all the mem-
bers rejoice with it." Do we, brethren, so rejoice ?
The more we increase, therefore, in philanthropy
and brotherly-love, the more will our joys increase,

202 CONSOLATION.

until, at length,, we sliall find nothing extravagant
in the strong expressions of Paul, concerning the
Corinthians (2 Cor. Y : 13), when he thus alludes to
the good news he had from them : " Therefore we
were comforted in your comfort; yea, and exceed-
ingly the more joyed we for the joy of Titus, be-
cause his spirit was refreshed by you all." The rea-
son our joys are few is that our love of brethren is
small.

There is still in the progress of Christian hap-
piness a class of joys which are more directly for
God's sake j when we rejoice in virtue of our con-
nection with God, feeling as children for the honour
and interests of a father. How can it be otherwise ?
The son and subject has now exchanged his own
poor little interests for those of God. The filial
spirit has come in. The sj)irit of loyalty has come
in. The kingdom of Christ has swallowed u^ other
regards. He would gladly suffer all and spend all
for Christ's crown and covenant. And hence his
joys, both of hope and possession, take their colour
from the rising of Christ's standard in the world.
This was felt in ancient days, even by the children
of the captivity, at the waters of Babylon, when
they said (Ps. 138': 6): O Jerusalem, "if I do not
remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of
my mouth ; if I prefer not Jerusalem above my chief
joy." " The zeal of thy house" (said the Psalmist and
said the Messiah) "hath consumed me." In Chris-
tian days, the love of Christ's kingdom leads to high
exultation at its increase ; when one sinner repenteth

CHRISTIAN JOY. 203

there is (Luke 15: 10) joy among angels; wlien
multitudes are saved, sliall tliere not be joy among
men ? Where a minister of the gospel is a regene-
rate person, this is one of his records : " I have no
greater joy" (said the aged John) "than to hear
that my children walk in the truth." And it is a
happiness which may rise to unusual heights, under
great successes, as when Paul exclaims (2 Cor. 2 : 14),
" Now thanks be unto God, which always causeth
us to triumph in Christ, and maketh manifest the
savour of his knowledge by us in every place !"
This makes cheerful energetic labour, and sheds a
holy oil on every wheel : for as JSTehemiah ^ said
(8: 10): "The joy of the Lord is your strength."
It is a joy which must brighten, as years roll on,
bringing new and augmented evidences of Christ's
advance to triumph over all his enemies ; when the
latter psalms shall be the significant and appropriate
hymns of the Church, and the voice shall be (Ps.
149): "Let Israel rejoice in him that made him;
let the children of Zion be joyful in their King ; let
the saints be joyful in glory ; let them sing aloud
upon their beds." We have thus considered, in a
very imperfect manner, the progress of Christ's joy,
as communicated to his people, in their progress
toward the everlasting rest.

III. For a third topic, let us bestow a few mo-
ments on Joy amidst Sorroios. This is at once the
most extraordinary and the most welcome part of
the doctrine. Ancient fable tells us of a stream
which passed through the salt sea, and reappeai'ed

204 CONSOLATION.

in Sicily, without losing its freshness : but here we
have a joy which flows unchanged through the midst
of troubles. It may be a paradox ; but if there is
any thing undeniable in Christian experience, it is
this. We could call ten thousand witnesses, from
the martyr in his chain to the palsied or consump-
tive pauper, dying on his straw. Chi'isfcian joy has
triumphed over every variety of external distress.
And the reason is, that it rests on nothing that is
sensual, earthly, or fading. "He builds too low,
who builds beneath the skies." I am fully per-
suaded, that no man is independent of trials but
the Christian ; and that there is no kind or degree
of outward trial, against which grace may not fur-
nish a perfect solace or support. It is a joy which
flows from the very Head of the mystical body, and
which remains and is full, when other fountains have
gone dry. Hab. 3:18: "Although the fig-tree
shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines ;
the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall
yield no meat ; the flock shall be cut off from the
fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls : yet
will I rejoice in the Lord ; I will joy in the God of
my salvation." Observe how the great apostle to
the Gentiles makes his way among contending tid^
of difficulty, like a sturdy swimmer striking out
against a rapid sea. 2 Cor. 6:8: " By honour
and dishonour, by evil report and good report ; as
deceivers, and yet true ; as unknown, and yet well
known ; as dying, and behold we live ; as chastened,
and not killed ; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing ;

CHRISTIAN JOY. 205

as poor, yet making many rich ; as having nothing,
and yet possessing all things." Observe, again, how
strangely the apostle James addresses the- dispersed
of the twelve tribes : " My brethren, count it all joy
when ye fall into divers trials." Paul prays that the
Colossians (1: 11) maybe strengthened "unto all
patience and long-suffering with joy fulness :" and he
knew it to be possible ; for he writes to the Co-
rinthians, 2 Cor. Y : 4 : " I am filled with comfort :
I am exceedmg joyful in all our tribulation." It was
his constant testimony concerning this joy; for after
enumerating the things which the world most dreads,
namely, tribulation, distress, persecution, famine, na-
kedness, and sword, he adds, what the world can
never say, " In all these things we are more than
conquerors, through Him that loved us." Ah! that
is the secret reason. It is the joy of Christ, accord-
ing to our apostle. It is joy in the Holy Ghost. Isa.
61 : 1-3 : For the Spirit of the Lord was upon him,
anointing him, " to comfort all that mourn, to ap-
point unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto
them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourn-
ing." Enough has therefore been said, to convince
us that this joy is immeasurably distant from all
the joys of the jDresent world, and is able to sur-
mount all its troubles. But I have reserved, for
brief notice in a last particular, the crowning tri-
umph of this grace.

IV. There is Joy in the hour of death. We say
not composure, simply, or fortitude, or patience, or
resignation, but joy. It may not be given to all,

206 CONSOLATION.

but it is possible, it may be prayed for ; nay, blessed
be His name, it is common. In the last words of the
last canonical epistle, Jude (v. 24) exclaims, address-
ing believers : " 'Now unto Mm that is able to keep
you from falling, and to present you faultless before
the presence of his glory with exceeding joy." This
light sometimes begins in the dying chamber. Paul
awaited such a close of ministry and life, saying
(Acts 20 : 20) to the elders of Ephesus : " None of
these things move me, neither count I my life dear
unto myself, so that I may finish my course with
joy, and the ministry which I have received of the
Lord Jesus." In view of this salvation, Christ is
still the grand object and source of hope. 1 Peter
1:8: '' Whom having not seen, ye love ; in whom,
though now ye see him not, yet believing, ye rejoice
with joy unspeakable, and full of glory: receiving
the end of your faith, even the salvation of your
souls." Yes, with clay-cold hands, we receive this
salvation from him who died for us ! Though it is
ranked among Jewish fancies, yet it is a beautiful
thought of Maimonides, that the soul of dying Moses
was taken from him by a sacred kiss of God. Of such
joy, it would be difficult to find a more striking ex-
ample than that afforded by the late Dr. Payson.
" Were I," says he, " to adopt the figurative language
of Bunyan, I might date this letter from the land
of Beulah, of which 1 have been for some weeks a
happy inhabitant. The celestial city is full in my
view. Its glories beam upon me, its breezes fan me,
its odours are wafted to me, its sounds strike upon

CHRISTIAN JOY. 20*7

my ears, and its spirit is breathed into my heart.
Nothing separates me from it but the river of death,
which now appears but as an insignificant rill, that
may be crossed at a single step, whenever God shall
give permission. The Sun of Eighteousness has
been gradually drawing nearer and nearer, appear-
ing larger and brighter as he approached, and now
he fills the whole hemisphere, pouring forth a flood
of glory, in which I seem to float like an insect in
the beams of the sun ; exulting, yet almost trem-
bling, while I gaze on this excessive brightness, and
wondering, with unutterable wonder, why God
should deign thus to shine upon a sinful worm. A
single heart, and a single tongue, seem altogether
inadequate to my wants. I want a whole heart for
every separate emotion, and a whole tongue to ex-
press that emotion."*

In closing the discussion, and seeking to point
some application to the mind, I shall not ask the
reader whether he is in or out of the visible church,
but exhort him to lay hold on this exceeding joy,
by drawing nearer to Him who bestows it. There
is a class — and he may belong to it — who have re-
ceived from heaven no less commandment than this,
repeated again and again: Rejoice — rejoice always:
and again I say. Rejoice. The message of divine
love is therefore well called, " Tidings of great joy."
And we live in gross ignorance or error, when we
think of Christianity as abridging our comforts, or
encouraging depression and gloom. When we, who

* Ml of Payson, p. 356.

208 CONSOLATION.

profess Clirist, are sad and disheartened, it is because
tiie flame of grace burns low. Were we duly seek-
ing tlie face of God, " with joy " should we " draw
water out of the wells of salvation." More eleva-
tion of our gladness would make us better Chris-
tians. It would wing our flight into higher regions.
It would throw this tempting earth into ignomini-
ous shade. It would cause our face to shine, and
lead the men of this world to say (Zech. 8 : 23),
" We will go with you, for we have heard ttat God
is with you." But inasmuch as God is pleased to
deal with churches in their collective capacity, it is
not common for high enjoyments to be felt by indi-
viduals, when the community of believers is in a
state of torpor. What prayer, then, can be better for
any particular church, than that of the sons of Korah,
Ps. 85 : 6 : " Wilt thou not revive us again : that thy
people may rejoice in thee ?" In order to insure
such joys, there must be great prayer, great love,
great activity, and great holiness. The path before
ns is therefore plain. We should be unitedly en-
gaged in seeking again the revival of our graces.
Nothing short of a general and copious effusion of
the Holy Spirit on our churches, will reach our case.
Each one should lament, and pray, " Restore unto
me the joy of thy salvation, and uphold me by thy
free Spirit : then will I teach transgressors thy way,
and sinners shall be converted unto thee." Then shall
we begin to hear the voice of inquiry renewed.
Then shall numbers of our beloved youth, who are
still fascinated by the false joys of sense, be found

CHEISTIAN JOY. 209

coming into tlie cliurcli. Then shall strifes and
heartburnings be banished, and heavenly elevation
shine from every countenance. Then shall the heart
of the fathers be turned to the children, and the
heart of the children to the fathers. " The meek
shall increase their joy in the Lord." Our " wilder-
ness shall rejoice with joy and singing." And that
shall be true of us, which was said of Samaria, when
it received the gospel : " And there was great joy
in that city." For a time of revival is a time of
great joy, in all those varieties of it which we have
detailed : joy in ourselves ; joy in the good of oth-
ers ; and joy in the glorifying of Christ's name.
And many a pastor feels the tender force of an ex-
pression used by Paul (2 Cor. 1 : 24), in application
to himself and to all ministers : " Not that we have
dominion over your faith, but are helpers of your
joy." Such help we would fain render. For as the
same apostle says (2 Cor. 2 : 2), every faithful pastor
may say : " If I make you sorry, who is he then that
maketh me glad, but the same which is made sorry
by me ?" for, adds he, " my joy is the joy of you
all." Our interests are identical. An extended
blessing on the word preached will reach to him who
ministers, and '' to you, and your children, and to
all that are afar off, even as many as the Lord our
God shall call." Sowing and watering, without har-
vest, is toilsome employment ; but let God speak
the word, and our whitening fields shall be covered
with golden sheaves, full of the rewards of joy:
John 4 : 36 : " He that reapeth, receive th wages,
14

210 CONSOLATION.

and gatheretlL fruit unto life eternal ; that botli lie
that soweth, and he that reapeth, may rejoice to-
gether." And I trust we have the prayers of many
a reader, that this promise of Christ, which we have
been considering, may speedily be fulfilled to this
whole religious community.

CONSOLATION DERIVED FROM THE USES
OF CHASTISEMENT.

TX.

IT is only in the Word of God that we learn to
consider affliction as a blessing. The utmost which
the most refined philosophy can effect is to remove
from onr sorrows that which is imaginary, to divert
the attention from the cause of distress, or to pro-
duce a sullen and stoical resignation, more Hke
despair than hope. The religion of the Gospel grap-
ples with the evil itself, overcomes it, and transforms
it into a blessing. It is by no means included in the
promises made to true Christians that they shall be
exempt from suffering. On the contrary, chastise-
ment forms a necessary part of that paternal dis-
cipline, by which our heavenly Father fits his
children for their eternal rest in glory. The Psalmist
asserts the blessedness of the man who is chastened
by the Lord, with this qualification as necessary to
constitute it a blessing, that he is also instructed in
divine truth. Psalm 94 : 12. By this we under-
stand that the influence of chastisement is not
physical ; that mere suffering has no inherent effi-
cacy ; but that the afflictions of this life are, in the
hand of God, instrumental in impressing divine truth
upon the heart, awakening the attention of the be-

214 CONSOLATION.

liever to the consideration of his own character and
situation, the promises of the Gospel, and the re-
wards of heaven. The child of God is assured that
all things work together for his good ; in this is
plainly included the pledge, that chastisements and
affictions shall eventually prove a blessing ; and this
is verified by the experience of the whole Church.

The subject can scarcely ever be inappropriate.
We are all famihar with suffering, in our persons or
the persons of those whom we love : we are either
now enduring, or shall at some future time endure
severe afflictions. Among our readers, it is natural
to suppose that some are at this very moment la-
bouring under burdens of grief Some, it may be,
are experiencing the infirmities and pains of a -dis-
eased body, others are mourning over the loss of
friends and relatives, and others are stiU living in
the dread of trials yet to come. There are few of
us therefore to whom the inquiry may not be inter-
esting. How is affliction a blessing ?

The question may be thus answered. The chas-
tisements which God inflicts upon his children are
profitable to them, as they tend under the Divine
blessing to jDromote piety in the heart. Or more
particularly, chastisement is useful, because it con-
vinces the believer of his helplessness and misery
when left to himself, and of his entire dependence
on God ; because it leads him to renew his repent-
ance, puts his faith to the test, and strengthens his
Christian graces ; because it contributes to the ex-
ercise of filial submission, and fixes the mind upon

THE USES OE CHASTISEMENT. 215

the heavenly inheritance. Let us, with prayer for
Divine assistance, meditate upon these truths.

1. Chastisement is useful, because it tends to con-
vince the hehever of his misery, and shows him that
without Christ he cannot be happy. And in order
to bring this subject more directly before the mind,
let us for a moment consider our readers as suffering
under the pangs of some great affliction. You will
at once agree with us in the position, that if you had
more faith, you would have less trouble of mind ; or
rather that if you had faith sufficient, you would be
altogether clear from the deep impressions which lie
upon you. Because we very well know from our
own experience, that there are cases in which the
most severe bodily pains, or mental distresses, have,
so to speak, been neutralized by considerations of a
spiritual kind. This is exemphfied in the history of
the whole Christian Church, and of every individual
behever, and most remarkably in the sufferings and
deaths of the Martyrs. There is then a certain point
of elevation in divine trust, confidence in God, reli-
ance on the providence, grace, and promise of God :
that is, a certain degree of faith, which would en-
tirely free you from these trials of mind. We take
it for granted that you heartily concur in this, and
that you feel, at this very moment of suffering, that
no gift of God would so effectually bless you, as this
gift of Faith. Your trials and afflictions, therefore,
produce in your soul a deep feeling of want. You
are now sensible that you need more of the presence
of Christ ; that your piety is not in sufficient exer-

216 CONSOLATION.

cise to make you liappy under your chastisements.
In tlie moments wlien forebodings and fears become
most oppressive, you are most strongly impressed
with the truth, that you still lack a great deal ; and
your desires are quickened for that measure of faith
which shall enable you, with filial confidence, to
leave all in the hands of God.

If these are your feelings, you are now ready to
acknowledge that chastisement has already produced
in you one part of its intended effect. You are
brought to feel that you are totally dependent on God
for your comfort ; that nothing but high measures
of piety can render you independent of these clouds
of trial, and that the attainments which you have
made are insufficient to this end. You are brought
to desire of God that grace which shall be sufficient
for you, and to say with the disciples : " Lord, in-
crease our faith !" This is one great end of chastise-
ment, to humble man from his self-sufficiency, and
make him feel, in the most profound manner, that iu
God he lives, and moves, and has his being. Afflicted
brethren, you never felt in your hours of ease (we
venture to affirm) so fully dependent upon God's
will, as you do at this present time. Perhaps, if en-
tire prosperity had continued, you would never have
felt this persuasion ; thus a most important point is
gained in your sjoiritual progress. It is so in this
respect, it prepares you for receiving the blessing.
It is not God's method, in the ordinary economy of
His grace, to give favours of a spiritual kind, until
the soul feels its need of them. He "will be in-

THE USES OF CHASTISEMENT. 21 T

quired of for these things," even when he purposes
to vouchsafe them. It is in answer to earnest long-
ings, pantings, hungerings and thirstings of the spirit,
that the Lord manifests himself in the most remark-
able manner. You have been brought by chastise-
ment to the very point, where you ought to desire
to be brought ; and where perhaps nothing but this
affliction would have brought you, the total renun-
ciation of your own strength, and the casting of
yourself upon the strength of God. 'Now you begin
more deeply to feel your need of Christ. Now you
are convinced that something more is necessary than
that vague and intermitted trust which you com-
monly indulge ; that Christ must be embraced by
your faith, and not visited merely by occasional de-
votions ; in a word, that you must constantly be
" looking to Jesus."

If these things are so ; if you are persuaded that
nothing except strong faith can heal your wounded
spirit ; if you are conscious that you still lack such
faith ; if you earnestly and constantly desire it ; the
question becomes exceedingly interesting to you:
" Can I attain it ?" And if this could be at once
answered in the affirmative, to your full satisfaction,
it would go far towards an entire banishment from
your soul of these poignant distresses. Now in pro-
portion as your soul is engaged in seeking this
inestimable blessing, in just that projDortion * will
your acts of faith be increased. As Christ becomes
more and more present to your mind, you will, with
more and more confidence, lean upon him with son-

218 CONSOLATION.

like assurance. And, therefore, without endeavour-
ing to resolve the question, when, how, or in what
precise manner, God will give you the grace which
you need, it is sufficient for our present purpose to
know, that one great end of your affliction is answer-
ed, when you are led to commence and persevere in
a faithful and earnest application to Christ, as the
great Physician.

Long have you wandered, it may be, long slighted
this benevolent Redeemer. Like Israel in prosj)er-
ity, you have forgotten your Deliverer, and have
grown restiff and rebellious in the rich pastures of
his goodness. While the skies were clear, and all
around you was smiling, you were remiss in duty,
irregular in devotion, lukewarm in affection. Your
mountain seemed to stand strong, and in the dehghts
of present enjoyment you could say, "To-morrow
shall be as to-day, and much more abundant." Jesus
Christ, the Master to whom you had so solemnly, so
unreservedly given yourself, has been cast into the
shade by the worldly things on which you have
doted. Ah ! how little do Christians ponder on the
truth, that by their lives of carelessness they are ren-
dering afflictions necessary ! While they are at ease
in Zion, forsaking their first love, and declining from
the path of strict piety, the cloud is gathering darker
and darker over their heads ; that cloud of judg-
ment and of mercy which is to drive them up from
their unlawful resting-places, and alarm them into a
renewal of their pilgrimage. Afflicted brethren!
Ye thought not, while ye were at ease, that these

THE USES OF CHASTISEMENT. 219

trials were in reserve for you, thoiigli often fore-
warned by tlie preachers of tlie Gospel, and tlie ex-
perience of your brethren. Tlie trial has now come ;
you have now to retrace your steps ; you now feel
that none but Christ can bring you back to happi-
ness ; and you are humbly asking for the blessings
of his hand. Thus it is that chastisement convinces
the believer of his misery, and shows him that afar
from the Saviour he can never be at peace.

2. Chastisement is useful, as it leads the believer
to see and feel his exceeding sinfulness. It is one of
the strongest proofs that our sanctification is imper-
fect, and our self-love inordinate, that we are wrought
upon so much more readily by stripes than by fa-
vours. Though the Lord^s goodness ought to lead
us to repentance, yet we generally observe that the
heart groAvs hard under the smiles of Providence,
and thus loudly calls for the necessary strokes of
God's correcting hand. It is a favourable indication
of reigning grace, when any soul, in the sunshine of
great worldly prosperity, is considerate, humble, and
constant in walldng with God. In too many cases,
it is far otherwise. And when sudden affliction
breaks in a storm upon the head of one who has
been relapsing into carnal security, the surprise and
consternation are great and almost insupportable.
After the first tumult of the soul, it is natural to look
around for some solace or support ; and in the case
of a true Christian, the resort will at once be to the
consolation of religion. Like the little child which
strays from its watchful and tender parent, during

220 ' CONSOLATION.

the lionrs of play, but hastens back at tlie approacli
of alarm, so tlie believer, overtaken by calamity,
awakes from kis dream, and endeavours to retrace
kis steps to tke neglected mercy-seat. But ak ! in
kow many cases does ke kere learn kis lamentable
distance from God ; and kow mournfully is ke made
to cry, " O tkat I knew wkere I migkt find Him !"
He wko is kabitually walking witk God does not
suffer tkis, for tke wkole armour of God protects kim
from tke most unexpected assaults : " ke is not afraid
of evil tidings, kis keart is fixed, trusting in tke
Lord :" but tke slumbering and lukewarm professor
sinks diskeartened. In vain does ke apply kimself
to eartkly solaces for alleviation of kis grief Witk
skame, and pain of conscience, does ke endeavour to
ask deliverance of kis offended Fatker. Every pe-
tition tkat ke utters, is accompanied witk a sense of
weakness. Tke blessedness wkick once ke spake of
is gone ; tke kabit of devout waiting upon God is
suspended; tke way to tke tkrone of grace is ob-
structed. How confidently would ke offer kis peti-
tions, if ke were persuaded of kis own acceptance :
kow gladly would ke plead tke promises, if ke felt
kis title to tkem secured in Christ. But alas ! it is
not witk kim as in days tkat are past, wken tke
candle of tke Lord skone on kim. His mind kas
become attacked to tke eartk; kis views of tke
blessed Redeemer are indistinct; ke is convinced
tkat kis strengtk kas departed, tkat kis faitk lan-
guiskes, and tkat ke is defiled witk sin.

Now kis repentings are kindled ; now ke knows

THE USES OF CHASTISEMENT. 221

how evil and bitter a tiling it is to foi^ake the Lord,
and to depart from Ms fear ; and wlien lie considers
how long God has borne with him, how many favom^s
he has received, and how brutish has been his ingrat-
itude, his heart is broken, his tears flow, he seeks the
lowest place in the dust of abasement, wonders that
affliction has not long since overtaken him for his
carelessness and neglect, and bows before the Lord
without a murmur. At such a time, the language of
the afflicted soul ^dll be : " Wherefore doth a living:
man complain, a man for the punishment of his sins ?
Let us search and try our ways, and turn again unto
the Lord. Let us lift up our heart with our hands
unto God in the heavens. We have* transgressed and
have rebelled : thou hast not pardoned. Thou hast
covered thyself with a cloud, that our prayer should
not pass through. Mine eye trickleth down and
ceaseth not, without any intermission, till the Lord
look down and behold from heaven."

Christian brethren, who have known affliction,
and have been chastened of the Lord, that you
should not be condemned with the world ; who have
suffered the loss of friends, of health, of property, of
reputation, how often has one hour of such trials
done more to show you your sins, and humble you
in penitence, than months of ordinary self-examina-
tion, or stated means of grace !

When chastisement has its proper operation, the
Christian will seek not to be comforted merely, but
to be taught of God. " Blessed is the man whom
thou chastenest, O Lord, and teachest him out of

222 CONSOLATION.

tliy law." He seeks to know wliy God contends
with liim, and lies very low in contrition, when the
still small voice of the Lord says to him, " The Lord
hath a controversy with his people, and he will plead
with Israel : O my people, what have I done unto
thee? and wherein have I wearied thee? testify
against me." Micah 6. And this exercise leads to
godly sorrow which is not to be repented of It is
under deep affliction that we feel most deeply the
connection between sin and misery, and acknowledge
that the connection is just and holy. Smarting un-
der the rod, we know that the Lord hath not dealt
with us after our sins, nor rewarded us according to
our iniquities ; and that it is of his mercies that we
are not consumed.

It was not immediately upon the commission of
his atrocious crime, that David was humbled ; but
when he was chastised and smitten to the earth, hear
how he mourns, not so much over his sufferings as
his sin : " Have mercy upon me, O God, according to
thy loving-kindness ; according unto the multitude
of thy tender mercies, blot out my transgressions.
Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse
me fi'om my sin. For I acknowledge my transgres-
sions, and my sin is ever before me. Make me to
hear joy and gladness, that the bones which thou
hast broken may rejoice. Hide thy face from my
sins, and blot out all my iniquities. Create in me a
clean heart and renew a right spirit within me.
Cast me not away from thy presence, and take not
thy Holy Spirit from me." Psalm 51.

THE USES OF CHASTISEMENT. 223

Times of affliction afford some natural facilities
for cultivating repentance. Occasions of sin are tlien
removed ; tlie world is excluded. The man confined
to the silence of the sick room, or the house of
mourning, cannot by idle pursuits divert his mind.
He is forced to think ; and to think of his sins. He
considers his ways, bewails his transgression, and re-
news his covenant. He learns to confess, " Surely it
is meet to be said unto God, I have borne chastise-
ment, I will not offend any more ; that which I see
not teach thou me : and if I have done iniquity, I
will do no more." Job 34 : 31.

Now, in these experiences of the afflicted, there
is a real consolation. Such tears are sweet, and it
will probably be the unanimous testimony of all true
penitents, that they have enjoyed a tender and re-
fined delight in those moments of grief, in which
they came to God as a forgiving God, and heard him
say to their souls, in accents at once of gentle rebuke
and comfort : " Behold, I have refined thee, but not
with silver ; I have chosen thee in the furnace of
affliction," " for mine own sake will I defer mine
anger." " For a small moment have I forsaken thee,
but with great mercies will I gather thee. In a little
wrath I hid my face from thee for a moment, but
with everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee,
saith the Lord thy Eedeemer." Isa. 54.

3. Chastisement is useful as a trial of faith.

To use the expression of Bishop Hall, " untried
faith is uncertain faith." There often is in profes-
sors of religion enough of the semblance of piety to

224 CONSOLATIOK.

lull tlieir consciences while tliey are prosperous, but
not enough of the reality to support them in time of
trial. Adversity makes the exercise of faith needful,
and 23uts the strength of that faith to the test. It is
compared to the fire, the furnace, the fining-pot or
crucible, because it not only purifies, but tries; it
not only consumes the dross, but ascertains the
gold.

There is no true believer who does not desire this
trial. The very suj)|)osition of being found wanting
at the day of judgment fills him with horror. His
daily supplication is : " Search me, O God, and know
my heart ; try me, and know my thoughts ; and see
if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in
the way everlasting." Christian reader, give a mo-
ment's thought to this question, Is your faith suffi-
cient to support you in the hour of death, if that
hour (as is very possible) should soon and suddenly
arrive ? Are you not ready to sink under ordinary
afflictions ? How then will you bear this greatest of
trials ? To adopt the language of Jeremiah (12 : 5),
" If thou hast run with the footmen, and they have
wearied thee, then how canst thou contend with
horses ? And if, in the land of peace, wherein thou
trustedst, they wearied thee, then how wilt thou do
in the swellings of Jordan ?"

This trial of your faith is plainly important, and
it is the office of chastisement to constrain you to
such a trial. If your standing in the covenant is so
firm, through humble trust in God, that you can say,
" But he knoweth the way that I take : when he hath

THE USES OF CHASTISEMENT. 226

tried me I shall come forth as gold," you are happy
indeed. But this conviction is not likely to be
strong in those who have not passed through the
farnace. The apostle Peter, in comforting the dis-
persed saints, explains to them this end of their chas-
tisement, " If need be, ye are in heaviness throuc^h
manifold temptations, that . the t]ial of your faith
being much more jDrecious than of gold that perish-
eth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto
praise, and honour, and glory, at the ap23earing of
Jesus Christ."

We have already seen, in the course of our medi-
tations, some of the ways in which faith is tried by
affliction. If any be afflicted he will pray. But there
can be no comfort in prayer, where there is not a
belief that prayer is heard, and will be answered.
The supplication of one who pours out strong crying
and tears, in a great fight of afflictions, is a very
different thing from the formal addresses of one at
ease. The sufferer cannot be consoled until he finds
that God is his friend ; he cannot find this without
faith; and in this manner, most directly, chastise-
ment convinces the soul, that it is still unprovided
with-the shield of faith, or awakens the exercise of
this grace, with great and unspeakable satisfaction.
And thus the tribulations which have succeeded one
another through hfe, give us stronger and stronger
reliance on God, for the approaching hour of death.
At some future day it will be sweet to remember
how the Lord sealed us with his Spirit of adoption,
in these timers of trial. Therefore, " beloved lu'eth-
15

226 CONSOLATION.

ren, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial
which is to try you, as though some strange thing
happened unto you, but rejoice, inasmuch as ye are
partakers of Christ's sufierings ; that when his glory
shall be revealed, ye may be glad also with exceed-
ing joy."

4. Chastisement is useful, as it strengthens faith,
by leading the believer to the promises, and espe-
cially to the Lord Jesus Christ.

There is no expression in the word of God better
suited to reconcile the Christian to trials, than that
of the Apostle Paul : " He [that is, God] chastens
us for our profit, that we may be partakers of His
holiness " — j)artaker3 of His holiness ! What words
are these ! This is the very summit of your desires.
This you have been toiling for, and longing after.
This you have earnestly implored, and are you now
ready to shrink from the very means by which your
Father in heaven is about to promote your sancti-
fication ? By no means will you be led to relinquish
this appointment of God for your good. Now it is
by these very trials that your graces are to be in-
vigorated.

We have seen that these trials disclose the re-
ality and degree of our faith. We may go further,
and observe that faith is greatly increased and
strengthened by the same process. Faith is strength-
ened by exercise. As the touch, or any natural
faculty, becomes obtuse and often useless by want of
exercise, or the removal of its proper objects, so
faith languishes and seems ready to perish, when

THE USEvS OF CHASTISE5EENT. 22l[

those trutlis which are to be believed are long kept
out of the mind. The most valuable truths of the
Christian are "the exceeding great and j)recious
promises." He does not feel his need of these prom-
ises while he is indulging in that self-j)leasing which
usually accompanies prosperity. In j)enning these
lines we say advisedly, no man can fully value health
who has not been ill, nor appreciate the services of
the kind and skilful physician, until he has been
healed by him. , And thus also, no man can fully
prize, or fully understand the j^romises of the Scri2>
tures, until they are made necessary to his support
in adversity. Many of the most precious portions of
revelation are altogether a dead letter to such as
have never been exercised by the trials to which
they relate.

The believer who is in sufferings or straits of any
kind, comes to God by prayer; and in attempting
to pray, seeks some promise suitable to his precise
wants. Blessed be God! he needs not to search
long — so rich are the treasures of the word. These
promises he takes as the ver}/ truth of God. He
pleads them at the throne of grace ; he believes them,
relies on them, rejoices in them. This is faith; these
exercises are vital exercises of the renewed soul. So
long as the Christian is oppressed with affliction,
these exercises must be continual ; and in propor-
tion as the trial is great, must the faith be great
also, so that he often finds every earthly support cut
away, and is taught, with implicit trust, to hang on
the simple word of Divine faithfulness. This is em-

228 CONSOLATION.

phatically tlie life of piety ; and it is encouraged,
developed, and maintained in time of trial.

Affliction is sanctified wlien we are made to feel
tliat nothing can satisfy us but God, and when we
actually wait upon God, and rely on Him as our
only hope. It is then that the Christian finds the
promises confirmed to him : " Whom the Lord loveth
he chasteneth, and scourge th every son whom he
receiveth." " No chastening for the present is joyous,
but grievous," &c. Then he rolls his burden on the
Lord, commits his way to him, leans upon Him,
trusts in Him with all his heart, so that with a mean-
ing altogether new, he can sing with the Church :
" God is our refuge and strength, a very present help
in trouble : therefore will we not fear, though the
earth be removed, and though the mountains be
carried into the midst of the sea."

Some appear to entertain the mistaken opinion
that the only relief which is afforded to the Chris-
tian in suffering, must arise from some hope of speedy
deliverance or escape. This is so far from being true,
that perhaps the greatest solace under afflictions is
derived from direct acts of faith upon the Lord Jesus
Christ, and communion with Him ; in which the soul
is so much absorbed that the present suftering is for-
gotten, and the mind wholly occupied in its exercises
of piety. And herein the chastisement is profitable.
In pain, and despondency, and grief, we go to Jesus
as to a friend that sticketh closer than a brother :
we pour our sorrows into his friendly ear, and ask
his aid, and then, when he reveals to us his love, and

THE USES OF CHASTISEMENT. 229

speaks Ms promises, and unveils his face, even though
he give no assurance that we shall be set free, he
does more, — he gives us Himself^ and faith is refresh-
ed and nourished by receiving him. And shall we
not regard as a mercy, that illness, or that bereave-
ment, or that alarm, which so embitters the world's
cup, as to lead us to Christ, that we may see his
beauty, and be filled with his love ?

Prosperity leaves us to wander, and offers temp-
tations to wandering. Afflictions alarm us and drive
us back to the right jDath. Prosperity casts a glit-
tering but delusive veil over divine realities, and en-
courages unbelief Afflictions rend and destroy this
covering, and show us the truths of another world.
Prosperity seldom leads to increase of faith. Afflic-
tion, by God's blessing, is in many cases made the
instrument of sanctification to such as are truly pious.

Dear Brethren, that God who " doth not afflict
willingly, nor grieve the children of men," offers you
in your trials these " peaceable fruits of righteous-
ness." Taste of the sweetness of his promises, and
each of you shall say with David : " It is good for me
tliat I have been afflicted."

5. Chastisement is useful, because it leads the
believer to exercise entire submission to the Divine
will.

It is an undeniable truth, and one of which the
child of God is very deeply convinced, that " the
Lord reigneth ;" that it is infinitely right and fit that
he should reign ; and tliat the first duty of every
intelligent being, is to submit promptly, cheerfully,

230 COIS-SOLATION.

and unreservedly to every ordinance and dispensar
tion of God. It is not very difficult to keep tlie sou]
in correspondence with this truth, so long as our self-
love is not interfered with, nor our present happiness
invaded ; but when the sovereignty of God is mani-
fested in despoiling us of our most precious posses-
sions and delights, our souls are often ready to falter,
and our weakness betrays itself, when with hesita-
ting lips we endeavour to say, " Shall not the Judge
of all the earth do right V It is common to hear
those who are ignorant of the Scriptures cavilling at
the representation of Job as a man of eminent
patience ; but where, except in .his biography, shall
^e look for the instance of a man, suffering in one
day the total loss of immense wealth, and of ten be-
loved children, and still saying, " The Lord gave, and
the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the name of
the Lord."

Without exercise. Christian graces do not grow,
and severe afflictions are probably intended to culti-
vate this important grace of entire submission. Noth-
ing is more common than for persons under chastise-
ment to indulge in such thoughts as these : "I could
endure almost any affliction better than this ; it is
that which I have most dreaded, for which I was
least prepared, and now it has overtaken me ! It is
so strange, new, and unexampled, that I am unman-
ned, and my soul sinks within me." These are the
symptoms of a rebellious and unsubdued will ; the
murmurings of a proud and stubborn heart, which
must be humbled in the dust. This is just the trial

THE USES OF CHASTISEMENT. 231

by wliicli, perhaps, God graciously intends to bring
down tlie imaginations and liigli thoughts of your
soul into captivity to the obedience of Christ. And
patience will not have had its perfect work in any
case, until the afflicted soul is prepared to make no
reservation, to claim no direction, but to give up all
into the hands of the most wise, most righteous, and
most merciful Creator. If the suffering were less, it
would not have this humbling efficacy, and he mis-
takes the nature of the covenant, who supposes that
such peculiar trials are excluded. It was, no doubt,
a visitation sudden and alarming as a stroke of light-
ning, when Aaron beheld his sons consumed by fire
from the Lord. It was an awful sanction to that
rule, " I will be sanctified in them that come nigh
me, and before all the people I will be glorified."
Yet, on seeing and hearing these things, the bereav-
ed father "held his peace." Lev. 10 : 3. It is a
bitter medicine, but the soul which is convinced of
God's justice and goodness, lays down every thought
of rebelhon and discontent.

When, in the time of the Judges, the children of
Israel gave themselves up in a shameless manner to
the worship of idols, they fell under the wrath of
God, and were eighteen years oppressed by the
Ammonites and Philistines. Still, when they came
to themselves, and cried to the Lord, they joined to
their repentance lowly submission, and said, "We
have sinned ; do thou unto us whatsoever seemeth
good unto thee." Judges 10.

This is the temper which sanctified affliction al-

232 CONSOLATION.

ways begets, so that tlie prostrate soul dares no
longer to impose terms on Jeliovah, but yields itself
to his sovereign discretion. There is peace in such
a surrender, a peace which is altogether independent
of any expected mitigation of the stroke.

Wave after wave often goes over the child of
God, before he is brought to this state of self-renun-
ciation. Murmuring may for a time prevail, yet the
Great Physician, who applies the painful remedy,
cannot be baffled, and triumphs to his own glory
and the unspeakable benefit of the believer's soul.
The Scriptures afford us striking examples of this
yielding up of every thing into the hands of God ;
particularly in the case of David, whose history and
experience are given in detail. One of the sharpest
inflictions which fell upon this pious man, was the
rebellion of his unnatural son, Absalom ; and one of
the most aftecting scenes in the course of this trans-
action, is the flight of the aged king with the ark :
" All the country wept with a loud voice, and all the
people passed over." Now, what was the language
of David under these circumstances? "The King
said unto Zadok : Carry back the ark of God into
the city ; if I shall find favour in the eyes of the
Lord, he will bring me again, and show me both it
and his habitation ; and if he thus say, I have no
delight iu thee, behold here am I, let him do unto
me as seemeth good unto Him." 2 Samuel 15: 26.
Now, we have here exemplified the very frame of
soul which each of us should endeavour to maintain
under chastisement. For we are not to speak thus,

THE USES OF CHASTISEMENT. 233

" I can bear this because it cannot be avoided, or,
because I hope it is the last of my sufferings." No,
my brethren, we are not thus to hmit the Holy One
of Israel; but let each of us with filial homage
say, " Lord, I am in thy hands, in the best hands, I
deserve thy stripes, I yield myself to thy dispensa-
tions, thy will be done !" Happy is he who, like
David, can look back upon chastisements and say,
" I was dumb, I opened not my mouth, because thou
didst it." Ps. 39.

" Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty
hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time ;"
yet, if his rod should long abide upon you, if you are
ready, like Job, to cry, from repeated and continued
strokes, "He hath set me up for his mark. He
breaketh me with breach upon breach. He hath
fenced up my way so that I cannot pass, and he hath
set darkness in my paths ;" yet even then, " remem-
ber the patience of Job, and the end of the Lord,"
and say, " Though he slay me, yet will I trust in
him."

Some may be disposed to think, in the time when
all God's waves and billows go over them, that they
could acquiesce and be comforted, if they perceived
any way of escape, if they could reasonably expect
deliverance : and this is the whole of what is some-
times called Christian resignation. Yet the comfort
in this case is merely worldly. The grace of God can
do more than this ; it can make you wilhng still to
endure, and in enduring still to praise.

Say not, " I could be content if I were sure of

234 CONSOLATION.

deliverance." God lias not promised absolutely to re-
move the cliastisement. Perhaps it is his holy will not
to deliver. Perhaps it is this very thing in your af-
flictions which is to insure you the blessing from the
Lord. The apostle Paul earnestly desired, and thrice
besouo;ht the Lord to deliver him from that trial
which he calls the thorn in his flesh, the messenger
of Satan to buffet him. Yet, as far as we are in-
formed, it was continued to the end of his life. But
mark the glorious indemnification : " My grace is suffi-
cient for thee, for my strength is made perfect in
weakness." Upon this declaration, which we shall
presently consider more in detail, he goes forward
under his burden, singing as he pursues his pilgrim-
age : " Most gladly, therefore, will I rather glory in
my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest
upon me ; therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in
reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses,
for Christ's sake, for when I am weak, then am I
strong." The sweet support under every possible
calamity is, that God can turn it into a blessing, and
that if we have faith he will do so. With respect,
therefore, to the use of afflictions, " all things are
possible to him that beheveth."

6. Finally. Chastisement is useful, because it
leads the behever to look for complete happiness in
heaven only.

And at this stage of our reflections, let us rejoice,
dear brethren, that the consolation ofiered is liable to
no exception or abatement; it is adapted to every
case ; perfect and entire. If the comfort which you

THE USES OF CHASTISEMEITT. 235

need depended npon tlie liope of deliverance in this
world, there would be many cases which we should
be forced to leave as hopeless : for there are many
in which no expectation of exemption in this life can
be indulged. But let the worst, most lingering, and
most aggravated instance of suffering be presented,
and the hope of heaven is still sufficient to mitigate
its ills. You may have been reduced to hopeless
poverty ; you may have suffered from the treachery
and ingratitude of supposed friends, from cruel
mockings and persevering calumny ; you may labour
under incurable disease, or follow to the grave be-
loved objects of your affections, who can never be
rej^laced in this world. Still, there is a country, and
you are rapidly approaching it, " where the wicked
cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest." It
is well if you have learned to look beyond all secon-
dary, earthly, imperfect comforts, to God, the source
of good, and to that world where all tears are wiped
away. It is well if the trial of your faith has enabled
you to say, "I know whom I have believed, and
am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I
have committed to him against that day."

This is a benefit of affliction, which is striking
and great in proportion to the failure of earthly con-
solation. For it may be doubted, whether any man
fully yields himself up to the view and prelibation of
heaven, until he is disentangled and rent away from
all hope of blessedness on tjiis side the grave. It is
natural to seek resting-places by the way ; and trials,
losses, sufferings, bereavements, are thrice blessed

236 CONSOLATION.

when they engrave upon our hearts that we have
hei'e no continuing city, but must seek one above.
So long as we can flatter ourselves with any refuge
in this world, we are prone to lean on an arm of
flesh, and to look upwards only for the supply of
what is deficient here. But let all expectation of
worldly peace and satisfaction be cut ofi*, and the re-
leased soul which is truly sanctified and full of faith,
rises like a bird from the snare, and rejoices to say,
" My soul, wait thou only upon God, for my expec-
tation is from him. Then shall I be satisfied when I
awake in thy likeness !" Think not, however, to
enjoy this fruit of chastisement, while you cast long-
ing and lingering looks on that country whence you
came out. Nothing but the hope of a glorious res-
urrection upheld the apostle Paul, when troubled
on every side, perplexed, persecuted, cast down, and
(as to the outward man) perishing. Hear the method
of his escape out of sorrow : " Our light afiliction,
which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far
more exceeding and eternal weight of glory."

He is the happy man who dwells most on the
thoughts of heaven. Like Enoch he walks with
God. Like Job he can say, " I know that my Ee-
deemer liveth," &c. Like David he glories, " Thou
wilt show me thy salvation." Like Paul h'e triumj)hs,
" For I am now ready to be offered," &c.

This happiness we sometimes witness ; but where
have we found it ? Li the house of j)rosperity,
where death has never invaded- the family circle ;
where all have more than heart could wish ; where

THE USES OF CHASTISEMENT. 237

health, and opulence, and honour unite to expel all
care ? JSTo ! but in the hovel of the poor, where one
affliction hath followed another, till earthly hope is
almost extinct. In the darkened chamber of mourn-
ing, whence all that was most loved and cherished
has taken its last flight. In the bed of lingering,
incurable disease, and in the very gasp of death !
Here religion bath set up her trophies ; here is hap-
piness, here, where things hoped for are substan-
tiated to the believing soul, where things unseen are
evidenced to faith by divine influence.

In every case of suflering it is the prime wisdom
ol the Christian to fix his eyes upon the heavenly
crown. In every other hope you may be disappoint-
ed, in this you cannot. Try, as you may, all other
fountains for your solace, there is a time coming
when you must be driven to this. Become familiar
with the meditation of heavenly glory ! Daily con-
template that joyful deliverance from evil, that in-
dissoluble and ecstatic union with the Lord Jesus
Christ ! Then, when death lays upon you his cold
hand, you can say, " I am prepared for this hour. I
have longed for this deliverance to meet my Lord
in his temple. I have lived in communion with the
blessed Lord of heaven." "Lo, this is my God, I
have waited fcTr him, and he will- save me ; this is the
Lord, I have waited for him ; I will rejoice and be
glad in his salvation."

THE HOLY SUBMISSION OF CHRIST'S

WILL CONSIDERED AS A SOURCE

OF CONSOLATION.

X.

THE very name GetJisemane carries remembran-
ces wliich sadden tlie demeanour and fill tlie eyes.
How can we draw near to it? EsjDecially, how can
we withdraw the cm-tain and expose the divine hu-
miliations of that hour, when we know so well how
many have already gazed carelessly on every pang
of the Son of God, until they are hardened like the
nether millstone ? And this is one reason why we
shall not attempt a picture of that scene ; but after
a hurried glance at the series of events, will single
out one expression as our theme. Every reader
will remember that the disciples had risen from their
couches in the guest chamber of Jerusalem, and
joining in a hymn, had descended into the httle val-
ley, which on the east separates the city from Olivet ;
and in that valley had found, at the foot of the
hill, the garden now so memorable. It was just out
of Jerusalem, over the brook Kedron, between the
brook and the place where the mount begins to as-
cend. It was a spot to which Jesus was accustomed
to resort for solitude and devotion : and the fact is
connected with his betrayal. He caused the eleven
to sit down and pray, while he went further onward
16

242 CONSOLATION.

to pray also. Three of tlie number were more pri-
vileged. They went to his more secluded" retire-
ment, and were witnesses of his agony. The terms
which describe this have an awfulness which belongs
to no other words in Scripture. " His soul was ex-
ceeding sorrowful ;" immersed in sorrow ; in death-
sorrow. It was an indescribable and unearthly suf-
fering, mingled with tears, and cries, and blood, and
angelic appearance. It was an hour of agony — the
hour. Mark 14 : 35. He was fallen on the ground,
and the unseen cup was at his lips. All the strug-
gles and wrestlings of the universe are nothing to
this. Here is Divinity in conflict with itself. Here
is the Father bruising the Son. Here is God the
Saviour, as it were, contending with God the Just,
lest the sinner should have what he deserves. Here
is manhood exalted to be the vehicle of divine atone-
ments, and Godhead upholding the only nature that
could die. Here is the fainting, sinking, forsaken
Messiah, stiU looking up, and crying, " Abba, Father."
" Abba." It is the word of the babe, when first in
that dialect he knows the filial language, and reads
the father's soul in his eyes ; the simplest articula
tion of language ; the most trustful outburst of af
fection — " Abba, Father." It is the recognition of
supreme power and Godhead : " All things are pos-
sible to thee." It is the cry of nature suffering in
its profoundest depths, and exclaiming for help, or
rescue, or alleviation, in the moment of anguish, and
pressed by unutterable woes. '' Take away this cup
from me !" It is, nevertheless, the total, instant, ab-

SUBMISSION OF CHEIST. 243

solute subjection of the whole spirit to Jehovah:
" Nevertheless, not what I will, but what thou wilt !"
The proposition to be considered is this: The
mtbmission of Christ^ s will to the will of God is the
great atoning act^ and the motive and j[>attern for ow
submission^ and the source of onr consolation.

1. The i^erson here humbled is to be regarded.
It is not the absolute Jehovah, who has neither parts
nor passions, and who is to all eternity insusceptible
of change or pain. It is not any one person of the
adorable Triune Godhead, considered absolutely, se-
parately, and in respect to his divine nature. Such
acts and sufferings as those to which we ascribe
atonement seem to have required a suffering adjunct,
that is, a human body and soul, in order to be possi-
ble ; and such acts and sufferings alone vindicate the
Incarnation. Nor yet was it man, simple, naked
man : no, not the greatest, best, purest, holiest, love-
liest, heavenliest of mere men ; priest, king, or pro-
phet;— ^it was not a bare teacher, a superior Jew,
Jesus, son of Mary, who was subjecting himself to
God. Such subjection as this would indeed have
been good and admirable, but finite, and unworthy
of occupying this distinct, prominent, and mysterious
place in the gospel annals. A thousand martyrs
have suffered, without a murmur, like this ; yet
their sufferings had nothing vicarious, nothing pe-
nal, nothing meritorious. The personage who here
submits his will to the will of absolute Divinity,
that is to Law, in its sublimest sense ; to infinite
right ; the personage who endures and obeys ; who

244 CONSOLATION.

shrinks in torture, and yet looks up in love ; who
dies of a thousand griefs, yet bathes with tears the
Father's hand which smites, is without any complete
parallel in heaven or earth, in time or eternity. He
stands alone ; for the exempt case, the unprecedent-
ed juncture in the world's history, demanded the
appearance of one unlike all others. Hence the im-
possibility of explanation in regard to this mystery.
All explanation lifts up the mind to the desired
height by means of some truth of likeness, some ana-
logy, some similitude. Here there is no analogy, no
similitude: likeness fails, and so does explanation.
God may be likened to God, and man to man ; but
the resulting Cheist— God and man in one ever-
abiding union — is comparable, in regard to this union,
to nothing in this world or that which is to come.
The very term Person^ not found in Scripture, but
adopted by catholic usage, from a very early age,
testifies to the necessity felt for some new phrase
to mark a new relation, and guard against a new
error. Hence the early creeds multiplied words to
prevent any one from supposing either that there
was but one nature in Christ, as if the divine and
the human were intermingled, so as to leave no hu-
man nature and no divine nature, but a third es-
sence betwixt the two ; or that there are two per-
sons, a personal Godhead united to a personal man-
hood—a God mid a man ; these early formularies
opposed themselves to both errors, maintaining the
truth with a fulness which savoured of tautology.
" Who, although he be God and Man, yet he is not

SUBMISSIO]^ OF CHEIST. 245

two, but one Christ. One, not by tbe conversion of
the Godhead into flesh, but by taking of the man-
hood into God. One altogether, not by confusion
of substance, but by unity of Person."

In contemplating this holy mystery we must not
look too closely into the ark, nor endeavour with
niceness of scholastic distinctions to separate what
is divine from what is human in the person or the
work of our Lord Jesus Christ. To us, and for our
salvation, he is " One Lord^'^ and it is enough for us
to look on his deeds and atonement as proceeding
fi'om one indivisible and glorious Person, the Lord
Jesus Christ. Li a sense, all he does and all he suf-
fers is divine, inasmuch as the divinity sustains all,
the divinity concurs in all, and the divinity gives
merit and infinitude to all. It is the Son of God,
who prays. Standing as Mediator, between all that
is purely God, and all that is purely man, himself
God-man, he offers up the tribute of a will absolutely
and unspeakably surrendered to the infinite will.
The prayer which He himself prompted was never
so uttered as by him in the garden, " Thy will be
done !" Which leads me to remark,

2. There was in our Lord, in the garden, a strug-
gle between Ms innocent nature andHhe will of the
Almighty FatJier, The words are plain — "Take
away this cup from me ; nevertheless, not what I
will but what Thou wilt." If there was no struggle
there could be no meaning in such words. There
was a cup, brought to his lips, which he was ex-
pected to drink, and which the Almighty Father

246 CONSOLATION.

commanded liim to drink, but which nevertheless
was so repugnant to all the instinctive feelings of
nature, as to be the cause of those ineffable fears
and griefs and astonishments. There was present a
suffering nature, a part which could sigh and grieve;
a voluntary nature, which could accept or reject ; a
loving nature, which could yearn with godlike affec-
tion and pity for the salvation of a v/ orld of be-
lievers ; and a subdued and holy nature, which gave
up all for the honour and glory of infinite justice.
It was a vicarious work from first to last in which
Christ was engaged ; that is, he was acting for
others, not for himself Human nature would never
have been assumed, unless to lift up that human na-
ture from its sunken condition. To carry man up to
God, it was necessary for God to become man. It
was not enough that God should decree the sancti-
fication of the fallen. Something besides sanctifica-
tion was demanded, something more than the pre-
sent, actual holiness of the creature. This, it is true,
was intended, as a grand result ; but before this some-
thing must be done. A legal obstacle Hes in the
way, which must be removed. There is a claim of
Law, which must be satisfied. For this sanctifica-
tion the Son Df God became man ; to satisfy in the
nature which had offended. The will of the race
has become opposed to the will of God : this is only
another way of saying the race has sinned. There
is an awful and irreversible penalty. Not for an in-
stant will I admit that God's threatenings are meant
only for alarm and not for execution. They are

suB:Missio]sr of cheist. 247

executed, witli direful condign vengeance in tlie fall
of Lucifer, in the fall of Adam, in the Deluge, in the
cities of the plain ; as they will be in the retribu-
tions of the Last Judgment. Li all and each of
these. Divine Justice burns forth to the execution
of threatened penalty. Li none of these instances
would such penalty be inflicted, if threatenmg could
be set aside without fulfilment. Perfect subjection
of will in our Surety, without any struggle, would
have been infinitely holy, would have been immea-
surable obedience, and would have fulfilled the law
in a way of active righteousness ; but it would not
have been endurance of legal pains ; it would not
have answered the vindicatory part of the law, and
it would not have exhibited to the universe the high
spectacle of the Son of God subjected to anguish for
the sinner's sake. Hence the necessity for the strug-
gle of which we have spoken. The yoke is borne,
and it is felt to be a yoke. The cup is bitter, or it
would not be a cup of atonement. The genuine
though perfect humanity of the Redeemer, having
all the instinctive love of ease and hatred of pain
which belongs to humanity, turns pale and shudders,
and sinks and groans and dissolves in blood, before
it drinks this cup : — yet drinks it ! A total in-
stantaneous subjugation of Christ's will to the will
of God, of such a nature as to overwhelm and drink
up the native propensities, such as to cast out aU
pain — would not have been endurance of penalty.
Hence the need of shrinking, repugnance, and strug
gle, in the suffering subject. Hence was there wrung

248 OONSOLATIOW.

from our divine Eedeemer the cry — " Father, if it
be possible, let this cup pass from me !" In our
view, that which is essential to atonement is the bear-
ing of sin, that is, the bearing of penalty. And we
stop short, and content ourselves with light, insuffi-
cient views of the part sustained by Christ, when
we do not include in our thoughts the crushing of
the human nature (which would have been its anni-
hilation but for the sustaining power of divinity),
under the weight of legal pains endured representa-
tively and vicariously. There was a force drawing
the will of Jesus away from the cup of anguish,
which force we must in some degree appreciate, be-
fore we can duly esteem the glory of his drinking
it up. This was the struggle of Christ's will, in
Gethsemane.

3. J^Totwithstanding this struggle, tliei^e was a
perfect submission of Christ'' s ^vill to the will of tlie
Fatlie7\ " Nevertheless, not what I will, but what thou
wilt." The length of foregoing repugnance is a matter
not revealed. That there was no moment in which
the holy submission of our Saviour gave way, is cer-
tain. That the grace of a loving subjugation to law
transfused itself through the whole of the sinkings and
agonies of nature, so that, the two coexisted at every
instant, is most probable. Through the whole, there
was so much of weakness as to insure pain, our sac-
rificial j)ain : through the whole, there was so much
of acquiescence as to insure obedience, our vicarious
obedience. And who does not know that even
in the lesser world of human affection, and in

SUBMISSION OF CHEIST. 249

many a domestic hour, love and pain may be so
blended as to be the very warp and woof of our
heart's existence ; pain being still pain, yet embraced
even with transport, and chosen without a lingering
hesitation, for the sake of the beloved object ; as
when the mother suffers for her offspring — the fa-
ther for the son — the w^ife for the husband — the
brother for the brother ! And shall we wonder
when He in whom are gathered up the glory and
beauty of all virtues, graces, and exalted benignities,
stoops to taste the cujd which our sins had pre-
pared ! It is the crowning act of his life of submis-
sion, on which he is now entering. In a certain
sense, the whole jDeriod, from his birth till his resur-
rection, was one series of humiliation, one subjection
to covenant, one tribute of obedience, one satisfac-
tion to law, and one Eighteousness. In the same
sense, this whole period was one submission of will ;
because there is no obedience but of will. But,
nevertheless, this permanent obedience of our
Mediator for our sakes does at certain epochs
reach a point of overflowing, which reveals the
same more fully to us ; as in the garden, the arrest,
the trial, and the cross. Infinite are the mysteries
of that piacular suffering and submission, which
were passing within the darkened chamber of
Christ's soul, and which no finite mind can ever
comprehend! Not more private and inaccessible
was the Sanctum Sanctorum^ than this Holy of
Holies of our Atoning God and Elder Brother. The
little that we know is, that he suffers and submits.

250 CONSOLATION.

This is enoiigh. This is the bowing down of the
will, the federal, vicarious, mediatory will, to the law
which we had injured ; to the law in its twofold power,
as commanding and as smiting. It is the will, the
stubborn, impious will, which in us fights against God,
and by all human power is unconquerable. It is
the will that does all of sin that is active, that
rejects salvation, and that damns the soul. It is
the will, the God-defying will, which now, this
day, in some who read, deliberately sets itself
against the Most High God. It is the will which
Jesus Christ, amidst an ocean of contending griefs,
offers up, steeped in death and humbling, pure and
unresisting, unto God for us. And though he made
this offering a thousand and a thousand times during
the course of his mediatory tabernacling among us,
and though there was no instant in which he made
it not ; yet at certain moments he did more formally
and observably consummate this surrender of self;
and this is one of them. It is the completest, as it
is the most stupendous, oblation unto God which the
universe has beheld. In all its parts, it forms the
theme of eternal thought and songs. " Not my will,
but thine be done." In a certain sense it mio-ht
have been avoided ; for God the Father is omnipo-
tent ; but not in any sense which would not have
left us in hell. In regard to the manner of help, it
might have been avoided. " Thinkest thou that I
cannot now pray to my Father, and he shall pre-
sently give me more than twelve legions of angels ?"
Matt. 26 : 51. '' Put up thy sword into the sheath ;

SUBMISSIOIT OF CHEIST. 251

tlie cup whicli my Father hatli given me, shall I not
drink it?" John 18 : 11. It might have been
avoided, in resjDect to ]30wer, but not in respect to
love. "Abba, Father, all things are possible unto
thee : take away this cup from me ; nevertheless,
not what I will, but what thou wilt ! " What thou
wilt ! Here is the supreme and infinite and eternal
will which binds the universe. What thou wilt !
Here is the divine will which, if unojDposed, would
have kept an eternal universe in happiness, but
which was violated by sin. Here is the will, which
all nature obeys, but which devils and men have
outraged and defied. Here is the will which is dear
to all holy intelligences, and infinitely dear to the
Son of God, the holiest of intelligences ; to this
will, therefore, he submits himself at once and irre-
vocably, though it costs him the greatest sacrifice
which has been known in all worlds. This obedi-
ence, even unto death, is the atonement. It is a
satisfaction of infinite value made to the will of
Jehovah, that is, to Justice. It is an oblation both
of doing and of suffering. It fills the cup of duty ;
it exhausts the cup of penalty. It meekly says to
Almighty Justice, "Thy will be done." It does
this, not in some remote planet, or distant circle of
heaven ; though in such regions there are perpetual
tributes to the Infinite Will. Such would have been
pleasing to God, but would have availed nothing to
our earth. Here, on this accursed orb, the satisfac-
tion was rendered. It is not a submission of will,
by some super-angelic being unrelated to ourselves.

252 CONSOLATION.

nor a declaration solely of God's hatred against sin :
it is an offering up of an immaculate, law-fulfilling,
covenanted obedience of act and suffering, in our
human nature, by one who is chosen as the head of
our human nature ; who assumed our human na-
ture for this very end, and who in every deed,
groan, tear, pang, and drop of blood, acts in and
for our human nature ; so that for all purposes
of atonement, we then and there obey and suffer
in Christ, as truly as in Eden we disobeyed and
suffered in Adam. So far, therefore, from being
unjust for God to impute to us the acts and expia-
tory pains of Christ, his subjection of will to God as
(if they were) our own acts and pains, it is beauti-
fully and gloriously and infinitely just, inasmuch as
these are the acts and jDains of One who is our Head.
Christ performs the whole mediatory work as the
head of a great moral person, his Church. He is as
truly connected with all the members as our head
or heart is with our extremities. Christ's satisfac-
tion is our satisfaction. " If one died for all, then
all died."* If one lives, all live. When that glo-
rious submission of will to God takes place, the law
is satisfied by a federal compliance, Avhich for ever
cuts off all payment of that debt by those means.

4. The submission of our Lord amidst this in-
conceivable struggle is the pattern and motive for
our submission to God''s loill. So beautiful a sight,
to those who account moral perfection the great-
est beauty, was never presented, as in the spot-

* See the origmal.

SUBmSSION OF CHEIST. 253

less obedience of Jesus; and so pre-eminent a part of
that obedience is nowliere displayed as in this clos-
ing night and day of his life of humiliation ; and in
these hours of agony, no single moment is more in-
tensely hallowed and subduing than that in which
he cried, " Nevertheless, not what I will, but what
thou wilt."

I seem to behold all heaven bending down to-
wards a world on which for forty centuries there
has not been one immaculate object, to concentrate
its gaze on the "Man of Sorrows." "These thhigs
the angels desire to look into :" they cannot imitate,
though they admire. They " adore and burn ;" but
such stretches of benevolence are beyond their reach.
Angels cannot suffer : they have not become incar-
nate. Such struggles are wondrous to them. Glad-
ly does one of them descend to Gethsemane, and
appear " strengthening him." This is a love which
has been the grand attraction of the church in all
ages, and which we celebrate in a sacrament.
It is love in its highest exaltation ; suffering love ;
tearful, bleeding, dying love. As you drew near
and meditated on it at that table, did your heart
melt, O my brother ! to consider that it was for
you and for your sins that this unexampled act of
submission was put forth ? And as you ventured to
stretch out your hand to the bread of the sacrament
and the cup of blessing, did you try to measure
your obligation ? Ah, you found it immeasurable !
By all the legal submissions of Jesus Christ your
Lord, and especially by all the untold agonies of that

254 CONSOLATION.

hour of darkness, when the sword of Jehovah awoke
against his fellow, and smote the Shepherd ; by all
his profound obedience of soul, you lie bound also
to obey. From every drop of that precious blood,
the voice comes to you, "Submit yourselves unto
God." No thunder of Sinai can so move the will
as these gentle groans of your beloved Saviour in
his woe. That rebellious will, which is perpetually
offending and resisting, and which you mourn over
as your chief calamity, the plague of your heart, the
serpent in your bosom, never, never yields to bare
Law. Obligation may be felt ; it is felt in hell ; it
produces the fear of hell : " the devils also believe
and tremble f but obligation does not convert. If
you have ever fled to Jesus with the intolerable bur-
den of your sins, you know this. You know that
the denunciations of penal vengeance, often repeat-
ed, produced only sullen aversion, and maddened
your sense of inability, sometimes even to despair.
You became afraid to look toward the fiery mount
and the tables of the law ; for so often as you look-
ed, you sinned ; and so often as you strove to amend,
you sinned the more ; and though your conscience
was lashed into exacerbation of remorse, your heart
acknowledged no true submission to the God whom
you had offended. But when from the mount that
might be touched, and that burned with fire, and
blackness, and darkness, and tempest, and trumpet,
and terrible words, which made you exceedingly
fear and quake, you were gently led aside, and
brought to this Zion, to Jesus the Mediator of the

SUBMISSION OF CHRIST. 255

New Covenant, and to tlie blood of sprinkling;
when here you were made to behold the incarnate
Son of God bending his will (at vast, unspeakable
cost of glory and happiness) to that law which you
would not fulfil, obeying that precept which you had
trampled under foot; and himself enduring those
pangs which you had merited ; and when, in addi-
tion to all this, and above all this, you saw this
same Jesus turning to you^ (ungodly and rejecting
sinner as you were,) and as it were drenched in the
blood which you had shed, and offering to you the
full value of the atonement to which you had con-
strained him ; then, then, the mountain of ice began
to melt ; then the full soul began to flow down in
rivers of penitential tenderness. Christ had con-
quered, and you were his ; and as he bore you away
in triumph, subdued by the power of his compas-
sions, you vowed that after the example of this di-
vine submission, you also would submit your will to
God. For Christ's submission is not only our motive,
but our pattern. Here is our example ; here we
learn that greatest, hardest lesson of Christianity, to
say, " Not as I will, but as thou wilt." It is parti-
cularly learnt in time of affliction and bereavement ;
in the chamber of illness and mourning; in the al-
tered scenes of sudden depression and overthrow ; in
the downhill of friendless old age and poverty. Then
you hear God saying : " Should it be according to
thy mind ?" If God had let you have your own
way ; if he had let your riches remain ; if he had
spared those whom you are now mourning for ; if he

256 CONSOLATION.

tad confirmed your healtli ; if lie had put an end to
your fears ; if lie had granted you all your fond de-
sires, liow, I pray, my dear, suffering fellow-Chris-
tian, could you ever have learnt that lesson which
you are now learning ? How could you ever have
had any sympathy with the submissive Son of God ?
You sometimes think thus, I dare say : " O if I could
only do some great work for Christ ! If I could
only strike some blow, achieve some exploit, brave
some peril." But let me assure you, you may as
certainly and fully glorify Christ by submission as
by act. Make sure that you are called to suffer, and
5^ou may even glory in it by submission. I could
repeat to you the famous old heathen saying, that
" a good man struggling with adversity is a sight
worthy of the gods ;" but I prefer to say, that you
are never so pleasing to God, and hence so like your
adorable Redeemer, as when you are surrendering
yourself unreservedly to the providential hand of
Him who doeth all things well. Still say, though
all his waves and his billows go over you, " Though
he slay me, yet will I trust in him !" When trials
grow heavier and more frequent, remember Him,
who under the greatest and heaviest trial, still look-
ed up, and said, " Abba, Father, all things are pos-
sible unto thee : take away this cup from me ; ne-
vertheless not as I will, but as Thou wilt !"

. Let me, in conclusion, entreat those who feel
themselves ignorant of these experiences, to reflect
on the opposition of their will to God. See what
a change has yet to be wrought in you. Is it not

SUBMISSION OF CHRIST. 257

time to begin? Is there not motive to begin?
What is it that is ruining you ? If (as is probable
from your present habit of mind) your soul should
be among those at the left hand of the Judge at the
last day, what, so far as you now can judge, will
have been the cause of your condemnation ? What
is it that is now dragging you hellward with so dire
a fascination ? What is it for which you are selling
your soul ? Seek for it in your morning thoughts ;
seek for it in your musings by the way ; seek for it
in your watches and your dreams. Bring out to
view that which you are choosing before Christ ; and
when you have looked at the idol, whether of lust,
or pride^ or power, or money ; ask yourselves whe-
ther in this you have reasonable cause to trample
on the blood of a dying Eedeemer, and to forswear
the heaven which he has purchased by his submis-
sion.

11

CONSOLATION FEOM GOD'S PEOMISE
NEVER TO FORSAKE.

XI.

As if it were not enongli that God has given us
his Son, and with him all things, we are con-
tinually rejDining and distrusting. Not instructed
by a thousand instances in our past lives, in which
God has extricated us from difficulties, and been
better to us than all our fears, and forgetful of the
great fact in our history that not one good thing
hath failed, of all that the Lord promised, we act
over again the murmurings and the incredulity of
Israel in the desert. " They forgat God then* Sa-
viour." " Yea, they despised the pleasant land,
they believed not his word, but murmured in their
tents, and hearkened not unto the voice of the
Lord." Ps. 106. In such circumstances, it would be
infinitely just in God, to take us at our word, and
leave -us to sink in our own unbelief, and suffer all
we fear ; but blessed be his holy name, his ways
are not as our ways, nor his thoughts as our thoughts.
He condescends to reason with the wayward, ungrate-
ful child, and to bring his promises into view. So
in that remarkable passage of the epistle to the He-
brews, in regard to anxieties about temporal sup-

262 CONSOLATION.

port, tlie apostle says, " Be content witli sucli things
as ye have ; for He hatli said, I loill never leave
thee nor forscike tlieeP It is not certain what parti-
cular passage of the Old Testament is here quoted,
for such are the riches of promise that the mean-
ing is found in many passages. The reference may
be to the case of Abraham (Gen. 28 : 15) : " And
behold I am with thee, and will keep thee in all
places whither thou goest, — for I will not leave thee,
until I have done that which I have spoken to thee
of." Or to the case of collective Israel : (Deut. 31 :
6) : " Be strong and of a good courage, fear not,
nor be afraid of them, for the Lord thy God, he it
is that doth go with thee ; he will not fail thee, nor
forsake thee."

There is a gracious mystery about covenant pro-
mises, which we should earnestly seek to understand.
What God promises to any one of the Old Testa-
ment saints, he promises to every believer, with such,
modification as suits his particular case. For all
these promises are different leaves of the same tree
of life, different expressions of the same covenant of
grace. In this sense, whatsoever things were writ-
ten aforetime, were written for our learning, that
we through scriptural patience and comfort jiiight
have hope. It is in this way that thousands of be-
lievers have drunk at the same fountain ; and what
God said to Abraham, Isaac,- and Jacob has been
the refreshment of many souls in all generations.
This principle of interpreting promises is implied
in the verse just quoted. The apostle clearly

GOD WILL KOT FORSAKE. 26S

invites all Christians to receive, collectively and in-
dividually, that comprehensive promise, which may
originally have been addressed to an individual or
to " the church in the wilderness." He gives it a
form so general that it is not so much one promise,
as all promises in one. And he adds a force of as-
severation, which our language cannot reach ; for in
the Greek these few words contain no less than &ve
negatives ; to give the full force of which we should
have to read it thus : " I will never, never leave
thee, I will never, never, never forsake thee." The
precious truth therefore which I commend to you
for all coming years, is this : God engages in cove-
nant, to be with the believer, for all needful good,
now, henceforth, and for ever.*

When God says that he will never leave, it is of
course a promise to be ever present. But this means
more than that omnipresence which reaches equally
to all creatures. This indeed sustains their existence,
but does not insure their happiness; because the
worst and most wretched of men might say with
the Psalmist, "If I make my bed in hell, behold
thou art there !" It means more than that provi-
dential sustentation and help, in regard to which
God causeth his sun to rise and his rain to fall, on
the evil and the good. It is not only a benignant
and bountiful but a gracious presence, founded on
the provisions of the covenant of grace. God will
not forsake his Son, the head of the mystical body,
and therefore he will not forsake any one of those

* Ov lit] are dvoo, ouS' ov ^r) ac eyKaraXiTrco.

264 CONSOLATION.

wlio are joined to liis Son. Let us clearly appre-
hend tliis connection. There is no gracious dealing
with any, but through the Mediator. There is no
adoption of any, but in the only begotten of the
Father. There are none reconciled, but through
the Lamb of God who taketh away the sin of the
world. There are none accepted, but " in the Be-
loved." All the wealth of blessing is treasured in
his hand ; and in him all the promises are Yea, and
in him Amen. Which will serve to answer a ques-
tion that no doubt has been rising in the reader's
mind, to wit. To whom is the j)i'oi^ise of the text
made ? It is made to believers, and to none others.
To all men, without exception, God is loving and
bountiful ; but his promise never to forsake is made
to such only as by receiving Christ make all the
promises their own. That God will leave and for-
sake the finally impenitent, and that to all eternity,
is a truth which ought to thunder in the ear of
every ungodly reader.

How can I expound such a promise as this ? It is
simple and clear as light. It needs not so much ex-
position, as belief and application. It is not the
promise of one blessing, but of all. It does not
so much say what God will do, as declare that there
is nothing which he will not do. The Lord God is
a sun and shield ; no good thing will he withhold
from them that walk uprightly. In these words he
offers not simply his gifts, but himself Whatever
there is in God of help and comfort, is herein made
over to the believer, through Christ Jesus ; for he

GOD WILL NOT FOESAKE. 265

says, I will never leave thee nor forsake thee. It
contams provision for body and for soul, in life, in
death, and in eternity. It covers every instance,
addresses itself to every character, and meets every
emergency. Resting on the veracity of Jehovah, it
needs no proof Eising beyond all qualification
and exception, it requires no elaborate comment.
But it does require to be illustrated and amplified,
so that it may be seen to apply to our several cases.
As originally urged, it was addressed to those
early Christians who were in worldly straits. " Let
your conversation be without covetousness ; and be
content with such things as ye have." To the
Church, Christ says, " The poor ye have always with
you." In primitive days, a large proportion both
of jireachers and hearers were literally poor. To
the poor the gospel is preached. God hath chosen
the poor rich in faith. It has been so in all ages ;
it is so at the present time. Some who read this at
once make the case their own. At those seasons of
the year, when careful persons look into their affairs,
balance their books, take account of their stock, and
provide for their liabilities, there are many whose
hearts fail them. The future is very dark in respect
to their daily bread. Such cases are not beneath
the notice of Him who feedeth the young ravens ;
they should not be neglected by the Christian dis-
ciple. Let such rejoice to know that their accounts
are audited in heaven. As their cry is, " Give us
this day our daily bread," so the answer is, " Thy
bread shall be given thee, and thy water shall be

266 CONSOLATION.

sm*e." Cast all your care upon him, for lie caretli
for you, and gives you this as the pi'imary and lite-
ral meaning of the promise, " I will never leave thee
nor forsake thee."

But the supply of food and raiment is not the
only temporal blessing which a believer may want.
Other things there are, connected with health and
illness, cheerfulness of temper, place of abode, safety
by land and sea, treatment by friends, neighbours,
or enemies, social relations, connections in life, among
parents, children, husband and wife, master and ser-
vant, education, learning, good name among men,
streng-th for labour ; in a word, all the lights and
shades of our common journey ; all these awaken
our solicitude ; and in regard to all, our only secu-
rity is in having God with us. This he graciously
promises. It is our part to lay hold on this immu-
table word. It has been the stay of thousands — ^it
is strono' enou^-h to be ours.

Mark well the nature and extent of the promise :
God does not say you shall have no afflictions, or
that you shall never fear, or that his presence shall
never be doubted. Indeed, in other places, he says
the very reverse. " In the world ye shall have tribu-
lation, but be of good cheer, I have overcome the
world." Ah, brethren, we are sometimes brought
into perils, where we need a new, special, and divine
application of the promise to our hearts, or we sink
into despair. The trial seems unlike all we ever had
before, and all that others have endured. The
enemy whispers, " There is no help for him in God."

GOD WILL NOT FOESAKE. 267

The sun of your common clay has set in clouds.
The stars of your common night are hidden. The
wind howls tempestuously, and the sea is chafed into
deadly fury. Your helm is broken, your sail rent,
and your bark all but foundered. The only light is
the lurid flash, and perdition opens its chasm to
SAV allow you up. I specify not the sort of affliction :
your own heart will tell you that; and it makes
no difference here. One in ancient times, in such a
case, could say, " For thou hadst cast me into the
deep, in the midst of the seas ; and the floods com-
passed me about ; all thy billows and thy waves
passed over me. Then I said, I am cast out of thy
sight ; yet will I look again toward thy holy tem-
ple." The thought of God in such moments affords
the only hope. And it is heard, above all the com-
motion of the elements, saying, "It is I, be not
afraid !" God does not forsake his people in their
extremities ; if he should do so, all would be despair.
As if to prepare them for extraordinary encounters,
he often throws his promise into a form which indi-
cates great and sore trial ; thus showing us that no
one is to be dismayed, or to doubt his loving-kind-
ness, because danger is gi^eat and imminent. It is
not said. Thou shalt never be in pestilence ; but it is
said, "A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten
thousand at thy right hand, but it shall not come
nigh thee !" It is not said. Thou shalt never go
through Are and flood ; but it is said, " When thou
passest through the waters, I will be with thee ;
and through rivers, they shall r^)t overflow thee."

268 CONSOLATION.

You may not promise yom'self that you shall never
be an orphan; but you may declare assuredly,
" When my father and mother forsake me, then the
Lord will take me up," that is, he will never leave
me, nor forsake me.

The promise before us fully justifies the per-
suasion, that there is no variety of character, no stage
of life, no j)eculiarity of temporal distress in which
the believer may not count on God's presence, pro-
tection, aid, deliverance, and comfort. . And a believ-
ing \dew of this will give our religion such a cast,
that it will be our habit of soul to rejoice in God
himself, rather than in his gifts. Still the song will
arise : " Although the fig-tree shall not blossom, nei-
ther shall fruit be in the vines ; the labour of the
olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat ; the
flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall,
be no herd in the stalls ; yet I will rejoice in the
Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation."

That God does not forsake his people is a foun-
dation-truth of religion, established by the history
of all saints, in Scri]3ture, and in the later Church.
Innumerable are the instances in which their greatest
extremity has been the juncture of his gracious in-
terposition. So it was with Abraham, when his
hand was stretched out over the son of promise, in
his greatest earthly trial ; and ever since the name
of the place has been a holy watchword, Jehovah-
Jirelh : " Li the mount of the Lord it shall be seen."
If this presence had a single moment of intermis-
sion, that might be the moment of ruin ; but " I will

GOD WILL NOT FOESAKE. 269

never, never leave tliee." The presence and the
power are unintermitted and perpetual, i-eaching to
the smallest cares as well as to the greatest terrors.
" Such honour have all his saints." And this is the
grand consolation of life.

But this promise has a bearing, yet more imjDor-
tant, on our spiritual life. We need not wonder
that God should continue to stand by the new creature
in all its emergencies. His plan is not to be disap-
pointed ; nor does he lay hold of a resisting rebel,
and subdue and transform him, in order to be baffled
by the adversary. If we had nothing stronger than
the j)ersistency of human will to depend upon, our
reliance would be on the weakest of all causes. One
moment of caprice or carelessness might ruin the
soul for ever. But grace is determined to complete
what it has begun, and to perform the good work
unto the day of redemption. The whole church is
given to Christ in covenant, and every individual
believer has his share in the blessed security. Look-
ing at the internal strength of the church, we may
say it is endangered ; but looking at the covenant,
it is safe. " In that day sing ye unto her, A vine-
yard of red wine. I the Lord do keep it ; I wil]
water it every moment : lest any hurt it, I will keep
it night and day." God's honour is concerned to
brhig the disciple through, in spite of all enemies.
This is felt in time of temptation, when the sound of
unearthly hosts marshalling around us is heard on
every side ; " for we wrestle not against flesh and
blood, but against principalities, against powers,

2 To CONSOLATION.

against tlie rulers of the darkness of this world,
against spiritual wickedness in liigli places." Let
God forsake us but an instant when thus beleaguered,
and we should be torn to pieces by the fiery talons
of a thousand hellish destroyers. But still the voice
is, " I will never leave thee nor forsake thee." What
else saved Peter in the hour of darkness ? " I have
prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not !" Precious
words, which are applicable to all of us in our times
of temptation ! ' " The devil, as a roaring Hon, walk-
eth about, seeking whom he may devour ;" and all
the fold would be a desolation were it not for the
good Shepherd, who knoweth his sheep, and is
known of them. The more deej^ly we drink of
gospel grace, the more shall we value this assurance
of God's never-ceasing help, as knowing that we are
not sufficient of ourselves so much as to think a
good thought ; but that all our sufficiency is of
God.

There are moments of despondency in which
the believer is ready to take up David's lamenta-
tion and cry, " I shall one day perish by the hand
of Saul." But the promise gleams forth among the
stars of heaven, and he rejoices in the sure mercies
of David. It is wonderful how Scripture makes
provision even for these moods of weakness and dis-
trust in the Church. Out of the clouds and dark-
ness, the well-known voice is heard, saying, " For a
small moment have I forsaken thee, but with great
mercies will I gather thee. In a little wrath I hid
my face from thee for a moment ; but with ever-

GOD WILL NOT FOESAKE. 271

lasting kindness will I have mercy on tliee, saith
tlie Lord thy Redeemer. For the mountains shall
dejDart, and the hills be removed ; but my kindness
shall not depart from thee, neither shall the cove-
nant of my peace be removed, saith the Lord that
hath mercy on thee." It is this covenant which
still remains as the foundation of confidence. Yet
the individual believer may take up the language of
Zion in the hours of desertion : " The Lord hath for-
saken me, and my Lord hath forgotten me 1 Can a
woman forget her sucking child, that she should not
have compassion on the son of her womb ? yea, tliey
may forget, yet will I not forget thee." Come what
will, God's mercies cannot fail, nor his presence be
removed. Even sin, his abhorrence, and our great-
est enemy, shall not be allowed to break the hal-
lowed alliance. This is a delicate point in Christian
experience, and one which requires to be treated
with caution. It is no part of the covenant, that
the believer may live as he Hsts, and yet have God's
favour ; that he may continue in sin, that grace may
abound; that God does not hate and chastise his
sins ; or that he may walk in unholiness, anil yet per-
severe. This were to assert contradiction, absurdi-
ty, and impossibility. " Sin shall not have dominion
over you." "This is the will of God, even your
sanctification." To be left in sin is to be forever
forsaken of God ; it is to secure your deliverance
from sin, that he says, " I will never leave thee nor
forsake thee." Indwelling corruption may rear its
head, and sometimes threaten to prevail, but the

2T2 CONSOLATION.

presence of the Holy Spirit, working repentance
and faitli in tlie soul, will crush the monster. God
is perpetually carrying on a hidden but mighty pro-
cess to this very intent ; and there is no aspect of
the promise which is more acceptable to the true
disciple, who, having these promises, is induced to
lay aside all filthiness of flesh and spirit, and to per-
fect holiness in the fear of God. Though the Mas-
ter may leave the gold in the furnace, he does not
abandon it. The flames may rage, but they are only
consuming the dross ; and at length the refulgent
mass issues from the glowing heat fit for the use of
its Lord.

There are conjunctures in the soul's history when
there is a combination of enemies, and when God
seems dejDarting. External affliction presses in un-
expected forms ; to increase the anguish, Satan and
his angels assault the soul with manifold tempta-
tions ; and to complete the calamity, treachery is
found within, and the will begins to yield consent to
evil. Job was in such case, as was also David.
But he that is with us is mightier than they that
are against us. The conflict would be fatal if God
now were to depart; but he abides. It is agree-
able to his covenant so to do. How insufficient
would the favour be if he were to clino: to us in our
outward distress, and leave us to ourselves in the
infinitely greater hazard of spiritual assault ! Such
is not the manner of his grace. In the present en-
durance of such evils, and in the expectation of
those that are future, we are authorized to assure

GOD WILL NOT FOESAKE. 273

ourselves, that lie will never leave us nor forsake
us. " There hatli no temptation taken you but such
as is common to man ; but God is faithful, who will
not suffer you to be tempted above that. ye are
able ; but will with temptation also make a way to
escape, that ye may be able to bear it."

My fellow-Christians, in looking forward towards
infirmity, old age, and the decline of life, you have
sometimes sunk in spirit, and feared lest the stock
of strength which you now possess might not be
sufficient far that sad and disheartening part of the
pilgrimage. To clear away such doubts, you need
only hearken to the paternal voice, which says,
" Even to old age, I am He, and to hoary hairs will
I carry you ;" that is, " I am he whose promise hath
been given, I will never leave you, nor forsake you."
Combine in your imagination all the forces of out-
ward distress, poverty, weakness, pain, desertion,
and despondency; all the temptations of a cruel
and experienced foe ; all the surviving evils of your
own partially sanctified nature ; all shall prove un-
able to break the covenant. And as you go down
the harsh descent into the last valley, though fears
may be in the way, you shall still say, " Who shall
separate us from the love of Christ ? Nay, in all these
things we are more than conquerors through him
that loved us !"

And then, in that dreaded trial which awaits us

all, what is our assurance for the death-bed, but

this same declaration of God's- gracious purpose ?

Can we rely on any powers of which we are now

18

2^4 CONSOLATION.

conscious for tlie conflict with the last enemy?
Thanks be unto God, he has not left us to so feeble a
source. If there is on earth a spot where his cov-
enant mercies are especially shown, it is the dying
chamber. There, when friends have fallen back, be-
cause they cannot helj) ; when earthly sights have
failed before the glassy eye ; when earthly sounds,
even of devotion and love, have ceased to reach the
ear ; when the soul, almost free from a body that is
cold and stiffening, almost reduced to that nakedness
and loneliness with which it is to explore the un-
known future, is already forsaken of all that is cre-
ated, a gentle, well-remembered whisper is saying to
the inward sense, " I will never, never leave thee :
I will never, never, never forsake thee." And the
accomjDlishment of all is just at the door ; for when
the last breath is wasted, and the silence around is
broken by sudden wailing and preparations for the
tomb, that spirit, nearer to God than ever before, is
rapt for ever in the embrace of love, no more to fear,
to sorrow, or to sin. O ye who have no God, and
who know ye are afraid to die, it is worth your in-
stant labour and importunate prayer; it is worth
toils and sufferings of a lifetime to be prepared for
such a departure.

This, indeed, is vast and glorious; but is this
all ? Does God conduct his beloved child to the
gate of bliss, and then cancel his promise, and aban-
don it ? O no ! All that precedes is but a single
momentary breath ^before a lifetime. We have ar-
rived at the true birth of the soul. Now it emerges

GOB WILL NOT FOESAKE. 275

into tracts of endless expansion, wliere there is no
danger, because there is no evil. Perfect holiness
is perfect bliss, and both are increasing for ever.
Now the union of the soul with God, often sighed
for, is consummated ; and so shall they " be ever
with the Lord." Such is the value, my brethren, of
the truth here revealed, that God engages to be
with the believer, for all needful good, now, hence-
forth, and for ever.

It would not be difficult to show the consolatory
bearing of this sacred truth on some particular cases
of trial which are common among God's suffering
people. For example, these pages may fall under
the notice of one who has been bereaved of the
guide of her youth, and is left to pursue, in solitary
weakness, that part of the journey in which the sup-
port of a loving friend is most needed. The stay has
been removed from the sinking frame. The best,
and nearest, and most sympathizing counsellor is re-
moved. He upon whom the great burden of re-
sponsibility was so constantly devolved that it was
scarcely felt, is no longer present. That heart,
which of all others had most forbearance and com-
passion for her weaknesses and sorrows, no more
beats on earth. To this may be added, in some
cases, the pressure of poverty, the failure of health,
and the infirmity of age. It is not to be denied that
this is a moment of unusual affliction. But God has
not left it without promise ; since he has named him-
self the "Judge of the widows." He will plead
their cause ; he will never leave them nor forsake

2Y6 CONSOLATION.

them. However desolate in regard to human pros-
pects, the widowed heart may confidently throw
itself upon the tender mercies of him who is at once
Maker ^ and Husband. A thousand testimonies
might be adduced, if departed saints could speak, of
God's faithfulness in this very relation, to daugh-
ters of afflictions who have fled to him for succour,
and have been sustained and cheered throughout
the days of forlorn and otherwise hopeless pilgrim-
age.

In general, it may be asserted, that the gospel
covenant secures to us the presence and support of
God, for all the future. Let no moody clouds ob-
scure this prospect, nor any temporary adversities
discourage us from hoping boldly in our all-sufficient
Helper. The worst that shall ever befall us, if we
are within the pale of his grace, shall be so ordered
in time and measure, as only more distinctly to show
that his purposes are full of mercy. Let go this
confidence for a moment, and we become wretched
indeed. But it is not to be omitted, that God not
only gives this promise, but causes his servants to
believe it. Without this the word of assurance, how-
ever certain of fulfilment, would for the time being
be a dead letter. And the suffering soul is some-
times allowed to reach the very brink of such a
despondency. But he who worketh in us both to
will and do of his good pleasure, utters the word of
promise, opens the wistful ear of woe, pours in the
grace of believing, irradiates the soul's chamber
with the light of hope, and lifts up the head that

GOD WILL NOT FOESAKE. 277

was hanging down in apprehension. Then it is,
that amidst the reverberation of the tempest Christ's
own voice is heard, giving peace and assurance.
From which we learn the value of faith, as an in-
strument of consolation.

Preparation for trials yet to come is a principal
part of Christian prudence. It is too late to make
ready the safeguards of the vessel, when the storm
has begun to rage. He who is wise will bethink
him of the hour of darkness, long before its arrival.
He will store his mind with j^ro vision of truth from
the word of inspiration ; above all, with promises
adapted to each emergency of this changeful life.
He will, in ways abeady indicated, seek to make
his calling and election sure ; lest in the time of peril
he be plunged into doubt respecting his own accept-
ance, and thus into an incapacity of receiving com-
fort from the most explicit promises of the Scrip-
ture. And he will, by repeated acts of faith, acquire
such a habit of mind as shall not be shaken from its
moorings when winds prevail upon the sea. It is
therefore earnestly to be pressed upon the considera-
tion of all professing Christians, that their support
in affliction will bear proportion to their vigilance
and holiness in ordinary times. All observation of
religious experience tends to verify this remark.
None are so immediately prostrated by a great dis-
tress, none so prone to exclaim that God has for-
saken them, as those who have been conformed to
the world, and have lived as if God were not their
portion. Melancholy indeed is the case of that ser-

2^8 CONSOLATION.

vant of Christ, who is surprised by some desolating
stroke, at the very time, when, backsliding and car-
nal, he is in full pursuit of earthly idols. Even him,
supposing that he is a child of the kingdom, God
will not forsake. But fearful must be the paroxysms
of fear and compunction, through which his way of
return will lie to the confident reliance of the heav-
enly word. Whereas, he who walks humbly with
his God, delights in him, communes with him, and
enjoys him, as the daily tenor of his life, sees the
night of adversity darkening around him without
consternation. His apprehensions of God's nature
and providence, his relation to Christ as his covenant
head and ever present advocate, and his certainty
that no jot or tittle of promise shall remain unful-
filled, avail to lift his head, when the waves run
highest. In these shakings of the earth and sea he
does not behold the tokens of a departmg God. On
the contrary, he can sing with the psalmist, " God is
our refuge and strength, a very present help in trou-
ble. Therefore will not we fear, though the earth
be removed, and though the mountains ])e carried
into the midst of the sea : though the waters thereof
roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake
with the swelling thereof." Psalm 46 : 1, 2, 3.

THE BELIEVEE SUSTAINED BY THE
STRENGTH OF CHRIST.

XII.

A SENSE of weakness is one of the first impres
sions of wliicli tlie convinced soul is conscious.
There was a day when the behever fondly ima-
gined that all things were possible to him, by his
own unaided endeavours. Therefore it was, that he
put far off the day of repentance, believing that at
any moment of alarm or illness, or even in the
article of death, he might gather his powers and cast
him^elf by a happy effort into the kingdom of God.
Practically denying the need of divine assistance, he
deferred until a more convenient season that work
which multitudes have never performed to the en-
tire satisfaction of their souls, even during a lifetime.
But no sooner is any one convinced that he is miser-
able, and not only miserable, but guilty ; that he is
condemned, and not only condemned, but dead in
trespasses and sins, cut off from all succour, and abso-
lutely helpless and undone — than he begins to see
the meaning of such declarations as these, " No man
can come to Christ, except the Father draw him."
He acknowledges indeed that the barrier is his de-
pravity, his sin, his alienation from God, the want
of a holy nature and disposition ; and he feels him-

282 CONSOLATION.

self on tHs account justly condemned ; yet just as
strongly is lie impressed witli the insurmountable
greatness of this hinderance. The change of heart
which he knows to be necessary is a change w'-hich
no human philosophy can persuade him is within
the power of himself or any creature ; and the more
he enters into the solemn reality of this his entire
helplessness, the more will he cry out with unutter-
able anguish of spirit, " Lord, be merciful to me a
sinner."

" This heart of mine," he says, " is too hard to be
melted into love by any influence but the baptismal
fire of the Holy Ghost : yet am I not thereby justi-
fied— for as a matter of right I dare not ask of God
to rescue me. I am an enemy of the ever blessed
Jehovah. My chains are the chains of sin ; and sin
is in its very essence alienation from God or o23posi-
tion to God, and cannot be my excuse. I lie at the
mercy of Jehovah, and even though I pray and
strive, I do but see more and more this plague of
my own heart : I do but feel more and more my
own weakness. If I am ever saved, it must be by
the very energy of the Almighty. I am unholy. I
partake with devils in that abominable thing which
God hateth. I must be born again or perish. I
must believe on the Son of God or remain con-
demned. The condemnation is just. I have no ex-
cuse for not loving supremely the most blessed and
glorious and beneficent Jesus, no apology for not
relying upon his offered mercy. I lie athirst by the
fresh fountain of the water of life : still I cannot

STEENGTH IN CHRIST. 283

stoop and drink ; and this very reluctance is my
sin — tlie sin of obstinately rejecting Christ and his
salvation. Whither shall I look for help ? No
power can remedy my disease, but one which can
reach this stubborn principle of depravity — and
there is no such power but that of God."

These are common exercises, and this struggle
is more or less protracted in all cases of conviction.
In order to feel that salvation is all of grace, it is
just as necessary to be convinced of our dependence
on God for every right thought, as to be convinced
of guilt and condemnation. The work of our re-
generation is not, in any part of it, man's work.
For although man is active in believing and repent-
ing, and loving and obeying, yet the co-operation,
or rather the primary and effectual operation, is of
God. When the withered hand was stretched out
at the command of Christ, the poor sufferer was
active, yet we all know that it was Di^dne energy
which wrought in and by this volition. No man
can say at his conversion, " I will do thus much ; T
will go so far ; I will meet the advances of God on
some middle ground — and then — w^hen I have done
my utmost, in my own strength, God will accom-
plish the remainder, and come to the aid of my
weakness." No, my brethren, when a perishing sin-
ner is most in earnest in workins: out his own salva-
tion, he does it with fear and trembling. • And why
this fear and tremblinfy ? Because h'e knows that a
sovereign and holy God holds his very being at his
own pleasure, and may or may not, as he will, work

284 CONSOLATION.

in him both to will and to do of Ms own good
pleasure.

We are now able, in a measure, to account for
the length of this agonizing struggle in certain
minds : and to give one reason why a heavy-laden
soul cannot at once come to Christ, when the free
overture of salvation is made. It is mainly because
the person convinced of sin, is still unconvinced of
the perfect freeness of the proffered gift. He is still
desirous of arriving at some deeper conviction — some
more poignant grief — some terror or earnestness —
of being melted into greater flaods of tears or fixed
in firmer resolutions. He is, in short, not yet con-
vinced of his dependence on God for every right
thought, feeling, and action. He will come to Jesus
when he has made his heart better, and he even
dreads to believe now, to cast himself now upon
the open arms of Christ, lest it should be too soon.
His struggles are suffered by the wisdom of God to
continue, that he may find his own weakness, and,
after having wearied his soul in going about to
establish his own righteousness, may submit himself
to the righteousness of God.

The belief of our dependence on God, as the
source of all spiritual strength, grows with our
Christian gi^owth. The newly converted person
may, in the wonderful path of God's most wise dis-
cipline, be permitted for a season to walk in his own
strength, and left as the tottering infant is left by
the parent to prove its own limbs ; but he is soon
made to cry out, " I am not sufiScient of myself so

STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 285

mucli as to think a good thouglit, but my sufficiency
is of God." The believer does not receive at his in-
grafting into Christ, a supply of vital energy suffi-
cient to influence hira in a holy manner all his life
lono^. The branch must abide in the vine. There
must be a union, not only formed, but kept up.
New streams of grace must flow, hour by hour ;
and if for a moment this communication is inter-
rupted, he begins to languish ; hke the twig or the
bough which is robbed of its life-giving sap and
moistm-e. " "Without me ye can do nothing." This
is the lesson which we are constantly learning. God
is glorified when we are apt scholars in this school.

It is true there are habits of piety ; but not such
habits as render us independent of the divine influ-
ences. If God withhold his hand the habit ceases.
If he hide his face we are troubled. The most ex
perienced Christians are most aware of being them-
selves unable to stand a moment, and of the danger
of self-dependence. They are taught of God that
the glory must not only be, but appear to be of
Him. If they are faithful, it is because Christ by
his holy Spirit replenishes their souls with hjs grace.
They live by faith, and not only so— it is by con-
stantly renewed acts of faith that they live. The
child of God is no more able to put forth acts of
faith now, than he was when he first passed from
darkness to light, except so far as he has divine aid.

The hfe that he now lives is the same life which
was communicated at his effectual calling. Though
an abiding, it is not an independent principle. He

286 CONSOLATION.

cannot say, I live now because God once raised me
to newness of life and then left me to keep my own
soul alive. No, " I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth
in me ; and the life that I now live, I live by faith
in the Son of God." We live, my brethren, but not
indej)endently ; " our life is hid with Christ in God."
God is the author of the vital action, Christ is the
vital centre, the very heart of the system, from
whom, and in correspondence with whom, every
pulsatioD of spiritual being is made. It is important
that those who profess godliness should be led to
consider this peculiarity of true religion. They that
are Christ's feel that they are in the exercise of
grace, only so long as Christ lives in them ; that the
true method of cultivating piety is to cultivate a
sense of dej)endence on Christ ; that if we desire to
grow in grace and to glorify God, we must look
above and beyond all means, all instrumentality, all
ordinances, to Jesus Christ as our living head. To
the believer Christ says, " Because I live, ye shall
live also." There are some who have a name to live
while they are dead. They are numbered among
the people of God : they are punctual in the out-
ward performances of religion. They have felt some
sorrow and tenderness and compunction, and sub-
sequent to this, some peace and joy, and they be-
lieve themselves safe in the ark — .though it may
have been very long since they knew what it was
to experience any near communion with their Re-
deemer ; and though they are seen by tiie world to
"mind earthly things" and to love the world, and

STEENGTH IN CHRIST. 28T

to be ashamed of Clirist — and thougli they bridle
not their tongues — and speak evil of brethren — and
indulge in pride and hatred, in ambition and avarice,
in folly and levity. Now such persons, though they
are frequently so much blinded by their sin as to
think that they are rich and increased in goods and
have need of nothing, are really poor and miserable,
and naked, and actually in need of the principal
thing in religion. The great attainment they have
not reached. They do their works and attend their
duties without Christ. Their sufficiency is never
felt to be of God. The mystery of union with the
Redeemer, abiding in him, being complete in him,
feeling strong in him, walking, living, and tri-
umphing by faith in him — this delightful mys-
tery of godliness has never been revealed to their
souls. Such religion as this is a mere shell, without
the kernel. It is legal — it is Christless — and how-
ever great the zeal, or bustling the activity of those
who possess it — ^it is such as will not honour God,
or give comfort in the hour of death. Now the
faithful servant of God owns at every step that if
having been once blind he now sees, it is all of the
Spirit. " By the grace of God I am what I am."
Not one movement can be made towards the end
of his course without assistance. " Looking unto
Jesus" the author and finisher of his faith, he runs
with patience the race that is set before him.

This dependence is felt very sensibly by the be-
liever, while engaged in the active duties of life.
Is he a parent ? He knows that his teaching and

288 CONSOLATION.

correction and discipline can in no way avail to tlie
salvation of his liousehold without the blessing of
Christ. Is he a minister ? He sows the seed and
administers the truth, as one who can do nothing
efficaciously toward the increase. He feels that all
his sufficiency is of God; and while he plants in
many soils, and waters with many tears and prayers,
he lifts to heaven his eyes, which often fail for grief,
and says, " My soul, wait thou only upon God, for
my exj^ectation is from him." Is he using those
means which lie within the reach, and belong to the
duty of every member of Christ's body, to promote
true religion ? He depends on the arm of Jehovah.
The battle here is not to the strong ; whatever his
zeal, his talents, his assiduity, all the increase must
be of God. He acknowledges that he is nothing —
feels that he is nothing — desires to be nothing —
delights to be nothing — that Christ his Saviour may
be all in all. His longing desire is to set the crown
of all blessing, honour, glory, and power, upon the
head of Immanuel.

When the Apostle Paul says, in writing to the
Philippians, "I can do all things through Christ
which strengtheneth me," there is in his words a
total renunciation of all dependence on his own
strength. Though he could say, with regard to his
brethren, that he laboured more abundantly than
they all, yet he thus speaks ; " Not that we are suf-
ficient of ourselves to think any thing as of our-
selves, but our sufficiency is of God." And he else-
where states the reason of this to be, " that the ex-

STEENGTH IN CHRIST. 289

cellency of tlie power may be of God and not ol
us." Whatever employment or labour, my dear
brethren, you may be called to undertake, whether
within or without, of soul or body, for yourselves or
for your fellow-men, great or small, new or accus-
tomed ; whatever burdens, tem^^tations, or afflictions,
you have to endure ; whatever pleasures or sins you
are commanded to deny yourself or forbear — in
every case, and at all times acknowledge and feel
that you are without strength. Yes, so true is thia,
and so important, that you cannot feel it too
strongly. You may, indeed, cherish a false and
counterfeit impression of your own weakness — a sen-
timent which is wrong in kind, which is sinful and
hateful to God. You may say in your hearts, "I
can do nothing, and therefore I will do nothing. I
am helpless, and therefore I will not seek divine
help. God calls me to duties, but I am unable to
perform them, and I will sit still, fold my arms, and
wait upon the Lord without effort." This is rebel-
lion, for it is in effect saying, "The Almighty is a
hard master, reaping where he hath not sown, and I
will not attempt to obey." This is the form of de-
pravity which rages in the souls of those who are
unconverted. Because they profess to believe that
they are dead, they will not come unto Christ, that
they may have life. And very often these very
persons have less genuine belief of their impotence
than all others. But you who believe that the law
of God is holy and just and good ; you who delight
in it after the inner man, and desire to obey it, and
19

290 CONSOLATION.

strive to be Holy, and at tlie same time render to
God tlie praise of every riglit tliouglit. every mo-
mentary view of the truth, every contrite sigh ;
you who lament that when you would do good
evil is present with you, and groan being burdened,
because ye cannot do the good ye would, and sink
into nothing in the consciousness of your feebleness
and corruption ; — you, beloved, cannot too much
encourage such renunciation of your own strength.

You are taught already by your daily experi-
ence that the belief of this truth does not make you
listless. Never does the believer work for God
with so much confidence, and activity, and persever-
ance, and zeal, and success, as when he knows that
all his works are wrought in God : that God is
fulfilling in him all the good pleasure of his good-
ness, and the work of faith with power.

Are any ready to say. If we have no strength
except in Christ, we might as well make no efforts
until the energy of God falls upon us and bears us
away irresistibly to the performance of duty ? To
such we reply: This might be reasonable, if man
were a mere machine operated upon by the Holy
Spirit, as the ship is moved by the wind. But no.
Man is essentially active. How God works in us
and by us we know not ; neither do we know how
an act of our will sets in motion the muscles of our
bodies. This, however, we do know, that God
works and that we work also. The only revealed
connection betAveen the two operations is such as
we just stated. We are to jDut forth strong

STEENGTH IN CHEIST. 291

efforts — as strong as though there were no aid re-
quired; but at the same time feehng that every
such act is spiritual and acceptable and useful, only
so far as Christ strengthens us. These efforts are
as truly our own as any thing conceivable is our
own. God in great mercy rewards us for them as
our own. They are as truly effects of God's agency
as the creation is such. Observe the order of the
ideas in the words of Paul already cited. 1st. I
can do all things. This is the expression of a reso-
lution to work, to attempt all duty. • He does not
say, I will wait until I see and feel the breathing
of the Spirit of Christ, I will be inactive and supine
until I can be so no longer. No ; I will arise and
confidently do every act which is commanded — en-
deavour the utterance of every good word — the
performance of every right action. 2d. Through
Christ which strengtheneth me. This is the ex-
pression of faith in Christ's strength, of actual be-
lief that Christ does strengthen. This is being
strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might.
When Paul thus spoke, he felt that he was
strengthened with all might according to His glo-
rious power.

We learn this truth, then, as to the order in
v/hich these ideas arise in the mind of a Christian.
First, We set ourselves about the work of piety.
Secondly, The Spirit of Christ makes this work
effectual. So, also, in another passage the same order
is observed : 1st, Work out your own salvation ; 2d,
It is God that worketh in you to will and to do.

292 COIS-SOLATION.

I liave endeavoured to set fortli in all its fulness
the doctrine of human dependence, in order to show
that it is not only consistent with human agency, but

is an incentive to it. For who will so readilv under-

t/

take the Lord's work as he who expects the Lord's
assistance ?

The words just cited express a desire and
purpose to be intensely active. This is the man
who felt that in him, that is in his flesh, dwelt no
good thing. Yet now he exultingly says, " I can do
all things ; I can act ; I can suffer ; I have learned
in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content ;
I know both how to be abased and how to abound ;
every where and in all things I am instructed both
to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to
suffer need ; yea, I can do all things through Christ
which strengtheneth me."

And how consoling to hear from Paul an ex-
pression of humble confidence, that Christ will
strengthen. I am ready to attempt without delay
whatever my Master calls me to undertake or to en-
dure. However mortifying or afflictive the trial,
here am I, Lord, send me. However uncertain the
prospect of what is to be demanded, I am ready,
" Lord, what wouldst thou have me to do f Is it to
rebuke an Apostle ? He is withstood to the face. Is
it to enter again the persecuting seat of Jewish
malice ? " Behold, I go bound in the Sj)irit unto
Jerusalem, not knowing the things that shall befall
me there; save that the Holy Ghost testifieth in
every city, saying that bonds and imprisonments

STEENGTH IN CHRIST. 293

abide me ; but none of these things move me." Is it
to publish the news of a crucified Gahlean in the im-
perial metropolis ? " I am ready to j)reach the gos-
pel to you that are at Rome also." Is it by his ap-
parent enthusiasm to risk being thought insane ?
" Whether we be beside ourselves it is to God, or
whether we be sober, it is for your cause, for the
love of Christ constraineth us." Yes, brethren, this
was the motive, and the strength of Christ sustained
the Apostle, and sustains in the same manner all
that are true believers.

" Through Christ which strengtheneth me." From
whatever part of the world of grace the believer looks,
his eye will always fasten itself upon the great Sun
of Righteousness. As it is only in Christ that we
see and know the Father, so the supplies of divine
aid are all conveyed to us through the mediation of
Christ. The Holy Spirit is the gift of Christ. His
influences are bought for us by the blood of Jesus.
And our great High Priest, who bears our names
upon his breast, looks from heaven to see us toiling
here vrith manifold trials, and obtains and sends
down upon us the strengthening influences of this
adorable and glorious Teacher and Comforter. The
operations of the Spirit are invisible and secret, and
known only by their effects. These effects are
various. They are not always elevated emotions,
or sensible raptures, frames of sorrow or of joy.
There is reason to believe that the blessed Sanctifier
often works by immediate impulses to Christian ac-
tion, Avithout at such particular times, filling the

294 CONSOLATION.

soul witli self-evidencing pleasure. We may grieve
tlie lioly Spirit of Christ if we defer our duty, if we
neglect the doing of any enjoined act until we feel
that we can do it joyfully, until every feeling of mor-
tified pride, or spiritual cowardice, or sloth, or unbe-
lief is expelled. This would be to look for the tri-
umph before conflict. If we love Christ, we shall
do his will so far as it is known to us, now, without
delay. Are we destitute of the projDer feelings?
This aggravates but cannot excuse the sin of disobe-
dience. To believers, and also to unbelievers, the
command is. Do the will of God; do it now; do
it with such strength as you have. Christ gives
strength while we are in action. It can scarcely be
necessary to prove this. You do not surely ex]3ect
a dormant stock, or magazine of graces, a hoarded
caj)ital of piety in your souls, sensibly manifesting
its presence before you begin to do those acts which
make these graces necessary. Put the slumbering
muscles in action : not till then can you know whe-
ther you have or have not strength. Stretch out
the withered hand : not till then shall it be made
whole.

Look back upon what your own experience has
taught you, and you will find that these statements
are correct. Remember you not the time when you
have been awakened to see that some great Christian
duty had been neglected, such as the duty of con-
fessing Christ before men ; of defending his truth ;
of reproving sin ; of warning your impenitent friends ;
of confessing your faults to those whom you had of-

STRENGTH m CHRIST. 295

fended ; of obeying Christ, by casting out of your
soul every unkind or unforgiving temper, and mak-
ing advances of reconciliation towards those who
had offended you ? Have you not struggled long
with your rebellious heart, before you could be per-
suaded to do what you seemed to hear God so plain-
ly commanding ? perhaps, until you were alarmed
to think that, continuing in known sin, you could no
longer consider yourself as any thing more than a
self-deceived formalist ? Have you not dreaded to.
attempt the duty; and have you not at length,
with unutterable distress, taken up the cross ; and
then, in the very moment at which you thought to
fail, found a pleasm^e, a delight, a peace of con-
science, a holy joy, an ease and satisfaction, in this
dreaded duty? Is it not so? At that moment
Christ, by his Spirit, was strengthening you ; and
thus it will ever be. " Draw nigh unto God, and he
will draw nigh unto you." Go forth in his name,
and he will reveal himself as present with you when
you are least of all expecting it. Begin now, I ear-
nestly beseech you, to do those things which you
see to be your manifest duty. This is an exhortation
which brings false professors to a safe test. What-
ever you may feel of soft emotions, whatever you
may do, or forbear to do, you are in danger of
condemnation if your heart can turn away from the
light of the law, or your soul rebel against known
duty. Your faith, if it do not teach you to do the
will of God, so far as you know it, is dead, being
alone. It is a glorious truth, that we are not saved

296 CONSOLATION.

by our works ; but it is as salutary and as certain a
truth that, " he that saith I know him, and keepeth
not his commandments, is a liar, and the truth is
not in him."

Your dependence on the Spirit of Christ will
never be so great as when you are actively employ-
ed in his service. Then you will feel, when in
labours most abundant, that you can do nothing.
Yet, my brethren, we must receive into our minds
the whole of the idea, without separation. Depend-
ence on God does not mean simply a doubt of our
own strength; but further than this, and princi-
pally, a belief in the promised strength of Christ.
You may have your minds filled with worldly
thoughts, and your lips with worldly conversation,
and your lives with worldly pursuit ; thinking, say-
ing, doing nothing for Jesus Christ, and may still
cry out, " We are poor, weak, dependent crea-
tures."

This is not Christian dependence. Such feel-
ings do not tend in any degree to holiness, while
there is no looking to God for help. Such is not
the dependence of Paul. Hear him : "I can do all
things through Christ which strengtheneth me." It is
as much your duty to trust in Christ's strength as to
distrust your own. You attempt nothing for the
honour of God and the good of your neighbour ; and
why ? — Because you are v/eak, and of yourselves far
from all good. True ; and such you will ever be
until, with a pure heart, you address yourselves to
the joint work of prayer and action. Christ will

STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 297

not give strength to any man to lie unapplied in his
bosom. He gives grace when it is needed, and it
is needed in the hour of action. Continue to do
nothing, and you shall, in all jorobability, die as you
have lived — waiting, waiting for the moving of the
waters, when Christ stands ready and says, " Wilt
thou be made whole ?"

Again, let every reader be exhorted to contem-
plate this Christian paradox : When most active,
most dependent. When most sensible of weak-
ness, then most abundant in labour. When stretching
every power to honour Christ, then sinking most
deeply into the lowliness of self-distrust, and rising
most triumphantly in trust upon the Lord. When
convinced that without God's immediate agency no
duty can be performed, no soul converted; then
attempting, with unwearied effort, to come up to
the help of the Lord against the mighty. Let us
pray for large measures of this grace of dependence
on Christ : let us seek it by labouring for Christ.
This is the secret of being useful and yet humble.
Would to God that we could acquire it.

There is an awful solemnity in the thought that
our strength is of God ; that our acts, if Christian
acts, are wrought by the Holy Spirit.

When I am weak then am I strong. Let us be
encouraged to undertake whatever we consider our
plain duty, with holy boldness, knowing that God
calls us to nothing in which he is not ready to assist
us. No man ever undertook a duty, in reliance on
Christ's aid, who was left to struggle in his own

298 CONSOLATION^.

strengtli. Those only are ignorant of this who have
no knowledge of the aid of the Sj^irit. Those are
most ready to attempt new enterjDrising and hazard-
ous services for religion, who have been oftenest
upon the forlorn hope of the Christian host; or
rather — as the exjDression applies not to Christ's
army — none can do more for Immanuel than those
who have hazarded the most. Dare we cast our-
selves on the simjDle word of divine promise : " Com-
mit thy way unto the Lord, and he will direct thy
steps ?"

Let lis leave this discussion with the belief that
there is no service or suffering so great or trying,
that Christ cannot and will not strengthen his peo-
ple to enter upon and accomplish. We are complete
in him.

It>i^h)i*!ii5aa?j

THE COMPASSION OF CHEIST TO THE

WEAK, THE SORROWING, AND

THE SINFUL.

1

XIII.

THE world is deceived by tlie glare of seeming
greatness ; but those things are not always the
best, which make the most violent impression. The
common sun and air, the dews and rains of heaven,
the fertilizing river, and the silent growth of fruits
and harvests, which are the benignant influences of
our world, are less awakening and vehement than
the storm, the volcano, and the earthquake. The
work of destruction is often more startling than the
progress of merciful and happy benevolence. It is
much the same in the moral world. The welfare of
society is promoted by a succession of quiet acts,
scarcely heeded as they pass, and often unseen,
while the murderous deeds of warfare and outrage
are loud and sudden. It is too much the case, that
we fall into the same .error with regard to spiritual
character and the interior life of religion. We set
great value on the outbreak of passionate feeling,
or the acts which inflame the multitude, while we
account but little of ten thousand gentle thoughts,
words, motions, and habits, by which God is hon-
oured, and the soul is carried forward toward the
heavenly state.

302 ISOLATION.

Yet when we imagine the condition of ransomed
sj^irits, we picture to ourselves a world of peculiar
serenity and rejDose, where no paroxysms break the
equable flow, and where the very ecstasy of love
and praise is a constant, uninterrupted, and balanced
glory. So w^e judge of the blessed angels ; and so
we hope for ourselves, when we anticipate perfect
holiness. Rest and Peace are the names of such a
paradise. That we form such conceptions, is a token
that in our sober hours we set a superior value on
those religious states which are permanent and un-
obtrusive.

The same thing appears in the only model we
possess of human excellence. In the character of
the Lord Jesus Christ there is nothing of spasmodic
and convulsive action. The greater portion of his
life was spent in retirement. The hills and vales of
Galilee, and the borders of the lake of Cinneroth,
beheld the silent loveliness and rapt devotion of the
Son of Mary. His precursor and kinsman after the
flesh, as he uttered the voice of Elijah in the wastes
of Judah, seems never to have had a personal know-
ledge of him whom he proclaimed. And even when
these two great personages met at the waters of
Jordan, though the voice from heaven vouched the
legation and the sonship of Jesus, the multitude
knew him not. He is hurried away by the Spirit
into the wilderness, in order to conflict with Satan ;
he dwells among the wild beasts (Mark 1 : 13), and
is ministered to by angels. These are long and
secret ^(reparations for a kingdom which cometh not

Christ's compassion. 303

by observation. When John points liim out, lie
expressly adds, "There standeth one among you
whom ye know not." And when again he points
him out, as the great proj^itiation, the Lamb of God,
not the thousands of Israel, but only two Galileans,
follow in his way. When the third convert, Philip
of Bethsaida, makes known his discovery to his guile-
less friend, N"athanael answers : " Can there any good
thing come out of Nazareth?" What may have
been the feelings of his near friends we know not.
At the entertainment at Cana, where, by the " be-
ginning of miracles," he " manifested forth his glory,"
we are informed of the unguarded zeal with which
the blessed Virgin would have drawn him out to a
premature development of his majesty. But his
hour was not yet come. And after this sudden and
transient flash of his divinity, he went back again
into the shades of home : " He went down to Ca-
pernaum, he, and his mother, and his brethren, and
his disciples." John 2 : 12.

By all this we are reminded of God's method
of preparing for great actions. Moses was forty
years in the tomb-like palaces of Egypt ; despising
their treasures, but treasuring up their learning ; and
then forty years more in the desert of Midian, before
he was commissioned for his great work.

Even after the public manifestation of Christ,
there is a singular reserve as to fuller disclosure of
his greatness. His most explicit I'evelations are
made in private and to huml )le individuals, as to the
woman of Samaria, and the man that was bom

304 CONSOLATION.

blind ; and even liis miracles were left to work their
principal effect, as evidence, when lie should be risen
from the dead. 'Now and then, indeed, he breaks
forth into signal demonstrations of authority, as
when he scourges out the profaners of the temple,
and feeds the multitudes ; but more usually there
is no proclamation of his greatness. He calls the
humblest men, one by one, or in pairs, from fishing-
boats and money -tables. After transcendent mi-
racles, he rises before dawn, goes into a solitary
place, and prays. " All men seek for thee ;" but he
goes at once to preach from town to town, notwith-
standing their importunities. Matt. 8 : 17. He
heals a leper ; but it is with the injunction, " See
thou say nothing unto any man;" and when the
sensation through the country side brings crowds
around him, it is expressly said, " Jesus could no
more openly enter into the city, but he went with-
out to desert places, and he withdrew himself into
the wilderness and prayed, and they came to him
from every quarter." Secrecy and devotion are the
beloved retreat of holy minds. Humility and
contemplation and lamenting love, all seek the
shade, where, like the turtle dove, they grieve and
are unseen.

Though our Lord must have come into contact
with a very large portion of the inhabitants of Pal-
estine, he retreated from public show, and the accla-
mations of the mass. '' I receive not honour from
men." He did not covet the ostentatious conflict of
the foolhardy martyr of fanaticism. "When he knew

Christ's compassion. 305

of conspiracy, " lie withdrew himself with his disci-
ples to the sea" — that beautiful sea, which is ever
since consecrated in the recollections of believers.
" Great multitudes followed him, from Galilee, and
from Judea, and from Jerusalem, and from Idumea,
and from beyond Jordan : and they about Tyre and
Sidon, a great multitude, when they had heard what
things he did, came unto him. And he spake to his
disciples, that a small ship should wait on him, be-
cause of the multitude, lest they should throng
him. For he had healed many; insomuch that
they rushed* upon him for to touch him, as
many as had plagues ; and he healed them all" — as
well those who cast themselves upon him in the
frenzy of agonizing importunity and headlong crav-
ing, as those who besought him at a distance, with
the homage of an awe which feared to profane the
hem of his garment — " he healed them all. And un-
clean spirits, when they saw him, fell down before
him, and cried, saying. Thou art the Son of God ! and
he straitly charged them that they should not make
him known." 'Not that his mighty woi'ks could re-
main absolutely private, or that he desired them to
be buried in oblivion. This had been to defeat the
very end of his mission. The intention of the mira-
cles was to attest his divine legation. But fi^om
various passages we learn that the grand revelation
of the body of evidence was postponed until a criti-
cal point in his mediatorial history — the resurrection
from the dead. This, as it was in itself the visible

* Margin.

20

306 CONSOLATIO]^.

seal of Heaven on Ms teaching, was that which
brought to recollection, and so to public view, the
tide of beneficent and supernatural wonders which
had been flowing together for several years, as so
many streams, to form a torrent of evidence, which
at the appointed time should burst fortli with irre-
sistible conviction. By the sea of Galilee, however,
he chose to repress the untimely fame, and to com-
plete the quiet lowliness of his humiliation ; for we
read that it was agreeable to the oracle of Isaiah,
42 : 1 : " Behold my servant whom I have chosen ;
my beloved in whom my soul delighteth : I will put
my Spirit upon him, and he shall show judgment to
the Gentiles. He sliall not strive nor cry, neither
shall any man bear his voice in the streets." His
entrance was with no flourish of heraldic trumpets ;
no kingly harbingers forewarned the multitude of
the entrance of a king; no voice of murmuring
thousands accompanied the progress of their de-
liverer ; no clamour of contention broke from his
lips, even in behalf of his down-trodden country.
Eebellion found no countenance from his meek and
holy presence. The Herodians, and such as refused
tribute, heard him remand them to Csesar. In his
very walks of love, as he went about doing good,
while the largesses of his charity flowed to thousands,
he fled from the thanks and praises of his beneficiaries,
and stole away, again and again, from the captivated
populace, to cast himself before his Father, in the
cold recesses of the mountain or the strand. His
voice was ascending to heaven in solitary interces-

Christ's compassioi^. 307

sion : it was not heard in the streets. " A bruised
reed shall he not break, and smoking flax shall he
not quench."

There is here a transition of a natural and pleas-
ing kind, from the gentleness of the Messiah's
character to the feebleness and insignificance of his
people. That feebleness and insignificance he will
not despise or crush, but will uphold it as a means
toAvards his victory. Though the King of Glory, at
whose approach the everlasting gates are lifted up,
he stoops to the lowest and most burdened. It is
the same connection of ideas which occurs in that
matchless invitation, " Come nnto me, all ye that
labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest :
take my yoke upon you, and learn of me ; for I am
meek and lowly, and ye shall find rest for your
souls." It is by reason of this meekness, this lowh-
ness, this serene and retiring and silent compassion,
that the shrinking, and the self-condemned, the
fainting and the unprofitable, are emboldened to
draw nigh. The encouragement- might be less cheer-
imr if it had not been inscribed centuries before the
advent, on the very scroll of his prophetic and re-
gal commission, and if we had not heard it among
the ancient titles of his Messiahship : " A 1 )ruised reed
shall he not break, and smoking flax shall he not
quench."

The reed is at best an ignoble growth in the
vegetable world ; having no I'ank among the sturdy
trunks of the forest; rejoicing in no verdure of
shady foliage, and scattering no flowers or fruit

808 CONSOLATIO]^.

into tlie lap of toil. It may minister support, as tlie
most slender staff, or solace a weary Itom- as tlie
sheplierd's pipe ; 1jut it can never be the weapon of
war or tlie timber of arcliitectnre. Springing in
fens and marshes, it is an image of weakness and
poverty. Thus, " the Lord shall smite Israel as a
reed shaken in the water," 1 Kings 14 : 15 — a mean,
defenceless thing of nought. The Egyptians, as a
useless resort, are " a staff of reed to the house of
Israel." Ez. 25 : 9. And John the Baptist, for his
firmness and constancy, is contrasted with " a reed
shaken of the wind." But a broken reed is some-
thing viler still. Of small value in its integrity, it
is below notice when crushed. Who will look upon
it, or pick its broken stem from the highway, or the
water side? It can picture nothing better than
the weakest and lowliest of all whom Christ re-
lieves. Shall the bruised object be trampled down
and left? The foot of pride might so deal with
conscious wretchedness ; but such is not the dealing
of infinite Love : " He shall not break the bruised
reed." The prophet employs another and a kindred
metaphor, drawn from the common lamps of the
Hebrews, in which the humble wick was of nothing
better than flax. The office of the lamp is to blaze
and give light ; but when instead of this it barely
smokes, it is of all household objects one of the
most useless, noisome, and offensive ; and we hasten
to extinguish it. Not so the benign Kedeemer : he
does not extinguish even that which flickers in the
socket, and is ready to die out. The smoking flax

cheist's compassion. 309

lie shall not quencli. It is part of his Messialiship to
spare the jierishing and rejected, the outcast reed,
the half-quenched lamp. Blessed be his name ! his
princely advent is accompanied with a proclamation
fitted to " revive the spirit of the humble, and to re-
vive the heart of the contrite ones." Is. 57 : 15.

From the whole imagery of that text and con-
text, we derive the truth, that the Lord Jesus Christ
in his princely work as Messiah, looks with forbear-
ance and comjDassion on the weakest and most de-
sj)ised of his people.. It is a topic not inappropri-
ate to our series of consolations ; for it is well
known that humble, tempted, and desponding per-
sons are often ready to doubt their own welcome,
and to deny themselves the blessings which consti-
tute the portion. I mean therefore to inquire, who
those characters are, designated by the bruised reed
and the smoking flax.

And First, The iveah are such. Their type is
the reed, and the reed almost crushed. Such a one
often comes to the sanctuary in the spirit of the
S}' rophenician, unable to claim any thing, yet plead-
ing with uTej)ressible desire : Yea, Lord, but the
dogs do eat of the crumbs from the Master's table.
The soul trembles, lest this debility of grace be the
want of title, and almost hears the words : ' 'Friend,
how camest thou in hither — not ha\dng a wedding-
garment." Or can scarce lift up the eyes to the
place of emblematic propitiation, but is ready to
smite the breast, crying, " God be merciful to me a
sinner." Others may be pillars in God's house, but

310 CONSOLATIO]^.

I am but a rush, a reed, a bruised reed ; of little
value to my neighbour — of no value to my Lord. I
am feeble in knowledge. There is more in Scrip-
ture that is dark than light to my understanding.
I am in doubts and perplexities. I am low in faith.
The frames of high assurance which others enjoy,
are not mine. Scarcely can I write myself among
God's people. I am weak in purpose, and failing in
resolution ; weak in conflict, and often flying before
the enemy ; weak in fortitude, and sinking under
my cares. The grasshopper is a burden. I faint in
the day of adversity, and my strength is small.
Others may think well of me — but I know myself
better. My light is dim — not a lamp of the golden
candlestick — not a torch in a sheaf — not even a
candle to give light to all in the house. So small
is my wisdom, so dull my example, so hesitating and
infrequent and fearful my words of grace, that I am
no more than a dying wick, repulsive and useless.
These are not uncommon exercises; though they
seem such to the subjects of them. Every Sabbath
the doors of the sanctuary open to some of this
class. They love God's house, and resort to God's
altars, as the timid, aflrighted sparrow to her nest.
They dare not refuse Christ's dying invitation —
while they dare as little claim the children's bread.
And I ask particular attention to the statement —
that these persons are sometimes among those who
make no public profession of faith.

They are deeply humbled at the knowledge of
their own deficiencies, both in nature and grace ;

CHEIST'S COMPASSIOlSr. 311

and never harbour a tliouglit of seeking any advan-
tage by their merits. Not for an instant do they
fancy themselves rich, increased in goods, eminent
saints, harmless people whom God will not condemn :
not for an instant do they stand and thank God
that they are better than the publican, or rehearse
prayers, alms, and fasts. Not for an instant do they
look on their house as made ready for the Master :
" I am not worthy thou shouldest come under my
roof." To take the tearful place of Mary, the sinful
woman, at his feet — they would consider heaven.
They cannot look at Sinai : they cannot look at the
law : they cannot look at themselves : " Unclean !
unclean !" — the cry of the leper, is their cry. They
think not of lessening their sins ; their best prayer
is, " Pardon mine iniquity, because it is great." They
confess judgment, and have not a word to say why
sentence should not pass to execution. In view of
God's righteous demand, and their account, they are
dumb in their insolvency, when rigorous Justice
takes them by the throat, saying. Pay me what
thou owest ! Mark this. It is characteristic. It is
critical. It distinguishes the broken spirit from the
loose sinner who desires and attempts no holiness,
and from the starched, complacent, moral, respect-
able, well-doing Pharisee, who feels no want. These
are God's poor. Hearken to the voice of silver
notes from the mount of the Beatitudes : " Blessed
are (not the rich but) the poor in spirit, for theirs
is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are (not the
proud but) the meak, for they shall inherit the

312 ooisrsoLATioisr.

earth. Blessed are ^ (not the full and sated but)
they which do hunger and thrist after righteous-
ness, for they shall be filled." Even through the
courts of God's house there do stalk some, whose
elation and si3iritual self-esteem will scarcely be be-
holden for any thing, even to Jehovah. " There is
a generation that are pure in their own eyes, and
yet are not washed from their filthiness ! There is
a generation, O how lofty are their eyes ! and their
eyelids are lifted up." Prov. 20 : 12, 13. There lived
in the days of Christ, " certain which trusted in
themselves that they were righteous, and despised
others." They live in our day, and in our churches.
But they are not bruised reeds, or smoking flax :
and their hopes are not in this promise. The word
which sounds here from the gospel, is a " word to
him that is weary." God resisteth the proud and
giveth grace unto the humble. The sense of weak-
ness, provided it be deplored and bewailed, is no
disqualification for receiving free gifts. Grace is gra-
tuity. '' Salvation is of God." Heaven has no seats
for those who earn eternal life. It is into the empty
vessel, that the divine favour pours its fulness. It is to
kindle the expiring lamps, that He who walks among
the golden candlesticks comes into his tabernacles
this day.

The figure of our text designates the sorroio-
ful. I see their very image in the bruised reed,
which has been rolled over by the wheel of pride —
the smoking flax, which sobs away its strength and
gives no light, because it has none. There is a phi-

oheist's compassion. 313

losophy of this world wliicli keeps itself comfortably-
cool and calm in a land of misery, by a metliod of
abstraction wliicli makes no man's sorrows its own.
It sees many a man lying half-dead by the wayside,
but it must maintain its dignified equanimity : it
passes by on the other side. Hear its lectures of
worldly-wisdom : " You must not be so soft-hearted
— rejDress your sympathies — they are childish — they
are womanish. Admit a little pang for yom^ own
iiimily, or your immediate circle — but do not lend
an ear to every cry of distress."

Knock at no such door! Child of misfortune,
seek not to melt that polished marble heart ! Tempt
not the sneer of such condescending selfishness. O,
bruised reed, go to Christ! There, there is the
heart which made every human ill its own. Go to
the followers of Christ : " Who is weak, and I am not
weak ? who is offended and I burn not ?" Go to those
whose maxim is, " Rejoice with them that do re-
joice, and weep with them that weep." It is the
spirit of Messiah. He came to exemplify and com-
municate it. While on his triumphal progress to
judgment and victory, he beholds the downtrodden
object in his way, stays his victorious wheels, de-
scends from his car, takes the bruised reed,
and cherishes and erects it into health and vicror.
And where self-important man would extinguish the
failing light, he approaches the flax which scarcely
smokes, and breathes new life into the flame.

If the gospel were not a message to sufferers —
to great sufferers, to sufferers the most solitary,

314 CONSOLATION.

neglected and abject — it would not be a message,
my bretliren, for us. If religion could not display
its glories where there are great trials — among the
aged, poor, infirm, sick, desponding, and disheart-
ened, we might erase from the catalogue the larger
part of Christ's friends. But to show that his
religion was open to the wretched, and to show
that for such it was a balm, the Redeemer of men
took on him not merely human form, but human
sorrows.

We sometimes come to take a glimpse of his humi-
liation. " Himself took our infirmities and bare our
sicknesses." Behold the man ! in pains, in sorrows,
in degradations, in fears, in agonies — a man ! bone of
our bone and flesh of our flesh ! Can he not feel ?
Can he not have a fellow-feeling ? Did he not bear
the same shrinking fibre and nerve that thrills with
our anguish ? Behold the man ! He comes forth,
wearing the purple robe and the crown of thorns —
weary, languid, fainting, spit ujDon, betrayed, con-
demned, all bloody from Gethsemane and the human
scourge — about to bear his cross, and to be nailed
to it, to thirst, to be excruciated, to die ! Behold
him, ye who are bruised. It pleased the Lord to
bruise him ; he was bruised for our iniquities — de-
spised, rejected — a man of sorrows, acquainted with
grief — stricken, smitten, afflicted, wounded — a
slaughtered lamb travailing in woe — pouring out
his soul in death ! Surely he will not break the
bruised reed. Though all men tram]3le on it, yet
will not he. He cannot — he doth not. And none

cheist's compassion. 315

better know this than they who suffer. They can
venture to cast their burden on him, who denied
them not the endm^ance of their agony, when it was
demanded by the law.

The scriptural figure has been seen to include
the weak and the sorrowful. I add, thirdly and
lastly, it includes the sinner. If it did not, it
would be all lost on us. Under the first head, the
infirmity described was a sinful infirmity, and we
consider moral obliquities and defects as a part of
it. But the same depravity which we there viewed
as weakness, we are here to view as sin. For this is
the very stumbling-block of the troubled conscience,
and so long as this lies across the way, there is no
reachmg the cross. In vain do I j)roclaim to the
drooping culj^rit that Christ invites the weak and the
sorrowing. Yes ! I am indeed both ; but I am more
than weak, more than sorrowful. I am vile — behold
I am vile ! crimson and scarlet cover all my life.
Iniquities prevail against me ; one of a thousand
would destroy me. The Master is, I know, com-
passionate, but he is holy. He will j^ity infirmity
and wipe away tears ; but sin is that which his soul
hateth. I am excluded, because I am a sinner.

Let me plead with this unbeheving one. Jesus,
who ajDpears as a consoler, has a message for thee.
You are a sinner, vastly worse than you have de-
scribed or dreamed. This man receivetli sinners.
It is the disease he came to cure. Will you go to
the surgeon and hide your chief w^ound ? Ah ! you
then deem it incurable ! that is, you doubt the re-

316 CONSOLATION.

medy. If you were better, you would apply for his
touch. But what saith he ? They that are whole
need not a physician, but they that are sick. I am
come to call not the righteous but sinners. I am
not sent but unto the lost sheep. To the Pharisaic
mind this is amazing ; for its maxim is, that grace
must be purchased, that Christ receives us on con-
ditions. For generations the Jewish clergy had been
walling themselves out from the unclean ; they would
not eat with them, or s]3eak to them, or touch
them. Jesus trode down and broke through all
these partitions, and there was a doctrine in his
practice which perplexed and disgusted the Jew-
ish precisians. "Why eateth your master with
pubhcans and sinners ?" " Behold a friend of publi-
cans and sinners !" Did he repel them ? Nay,
he said to the righteous ones, " The publicans and
the harlots go into the kingdom of God before you."
And the history adds, " the publicans and harlots
believed him." Levi and Zaccheus and Mary em-
braced a gratuitous salvation.

The chief of sinners has part in the offer. It is
worthy of all acceptation. Be not weary of the fa-
miliar truth ; account it not as the " light food," the
"manna" which the world rejects, while the "full
soul loatheth the honeycomb." Come ye, buy and
eat, yea come, buy wine and milk, without money and
without price. It is the echo betAveen the Old
Testament and the New, " Though your sins be as
scarlet, they shall be white as snow ; though they
be red like crimson, they shall be as wool."

Christ's compassion. 31T

You are a professor, and liave sinned in the
cliurch. It is so ; it is dreadful ; it is amazing ; it
is more black and damning than you think. You
have broken vows ; you have been unfruitful ; you
have hated your brother in your heart ; you have
denied your Lord. It is a bruise more serious than
others— your crushing bruise. David felt it — Peter
felt it. But he of whom we speak is Jesus ; he
shall save his people from their sins. He will not
overlook the principal malady. The bruised reed
shall he not break. He will not put out the expir-
ing glimmer of your corrupt, offensive lamp; the
smoking flax shall he not quench. If he came with
healing for all diseases but one — this one — he would
come in vain. Here is the hydra's head, and he
strikes at it. Sin and sorrow came in together in Eden ;
sin and sorrow shall go out together at the Judgment.
And during the interval, though they remain —
though the sting is still sin — though there is a law
in your members warring against the law of your
mmd — though it sometimes oppresses your li\dng
graces as a body of death — yet thanks be to God,
who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus
Christ !

The doctrine of this grace may be abused : the
grace itself cannot be. The lamentations to which
these truths are directed proceed from those who
cry out, as they writhe in the mighty coils of their
serpentine enemy. Whether in the church, or out of
it, if you detest that which is closest to you — your
sin — if this bruise of the spirit is your daily pain ; if

318 CONSOLATION.

you long as importunately to be cleansed of your
leprosy as to be pronounced clean by the priest ; if
you see in Christ's body and blood deliverance as
well as j)ardon; then, no matter how great your
sense of sins, your help is at hand. You may have
lain long in the porches of Bethesda, among the great
multitude of " impotent folk." You may have wit-
nessed repeated seasons, when the angel descended
into the pool and troubled the water. You may
have had no man to put you into the pool. While
you have been making the effort, others may have
stepped down before you into the cleansing laver.
Yet this day there is one among you whom ye know
not. And as his benignant eye fastens on you, he
says, " Wilt thou be made whole ?" Nay, he says,
" Take up thy bed and walk !" The smoking flax
is almost dead, but here is " the Light of the
World." It would indeed be a profanation beyond
remedy if you should make the blood of Christ the
encouragement to remain in sin ; it would be turn-
ing the grace of God into licentiousness : it would
be trampling on the crucified body of the Lord ; if
persevered in, it would be certain destruction. But
it would be all this simply because it would be re-
jecting the offered salvation. The salvation is as
truly from pollution as from guilt. The acceptance
of it is not possible, except where sin is the burden
from which the soul flies with abhorrence. The
terms of the free gospel may be abused ; they have
been abused. But the danger does not lie-in over-
rating the fulness, freeness, nearness, and accessible-

cheist's compassion. 319

ness of tlie invitation ; nor is it to be avoided by
annexino" le«:al conditions to tlie errant. No atro-
city of licentious Antinomian presumption can ren-
der the gift less free or Christ less compassionate.
His immaculate holiness turns away, indeed, from
the heaven-daring impiety of hypocritical professors,
who resolve to venture on known sin, while they
cry, " Lord, Lord," and plunge deeper in iniquity
and guilt, because there is pardon for transgressors ;
from this, I say, the pure and righteous Saviour
turns away with infinite repugnance ; nevertheless,
his divine, unbounded love abides unchangeable ;
and no malignancy of the wicked can avail for a
moment to quench his compassions, or stay the hand
of his relief Though your grief, therefore, be sin
itself; though your bruised spirit sinks most under
the recollection and consciousness of sin ; yet, if
your inmost soul abhors the plague, and cries to be
delivered from it, the Messiah of our prophetic word
will not reject you. He will not refuse to lift you
up because your distress is one caused by the great-
est of all evils. And, in the language of Davies on
this text, the desponding soul should thus think :
" Has God kindled the sacred flame in his heart in
order to render him ca23able of the more exquisite
pain ? Will he exclude from his presence the poor
creature that clings to him, and languishes for him ?
No ; the flax that does but smoke with his love was
never intended to be fuel for hell ; but he will blow
it up into a flame, and nourish it, till it mingles

320 CONSOLATION.

witli tlie serapliic ardors in the region of perfect
love." *

Weak, and sorrowful, and sinful thougli you be,
you are come to behold One who gives strength,
peace, and righteousness ; who died, and yet lives ;
who " was made sin for us," in the manner exhibited
in previous pages, and who " of God is made unto
us wisdom, righteousness, sanctification and redemp-
tion."

* The fifth sermon of President Davies on this text is earnestly
commended to the attention of all readers.

CONSOLATION UNDER THE JUDGMENTS

OP MEN.

21

XIV.

THE wounds of tlie soul are not always such as
bleed outwardly, nor is the most poignant an-
guish caused l)y visible agents. When we speak of
consolation, our minds naturally call up the images
of illness, bereavement, or peril of life or limb. But
man is so constituted, that an assault on reputation,
or even a public or general censure of conduct and
character, will often inflict as keen and lasting
pain as the piercing of a sword. There are, more-
over, some who could with more equanimity go to
the cannon's mouth than withstand the voice of dis-
ai:>probation, when proceeding from great numbers,
or from persons of rank and importance. And
when censure and rebuke actually fall, there is
ah\^ays an emotion of unhappiness, at least for a
time, under which the supports of religion are as
truly needed as under the more palpable inflictions
which have passed so largely under our review.
Nor is there any means of rising altogether above
such suftering except that which is afforded by
Christianity ; because the true believer is the only
man who can rationally and universally appeal from
the judgment of man to the judgment of God.

324 CONSOLATION.

To do riglit, to do always riglit, and to do it
without concern as to tlie judgment of human crea-
tures, belongs to the very highest degrees of moral
culture, to the strong man in Christ Jesus. Yet we
should strive after it, as indispensable as well to our
holiness as our happiness. The contrary temper is
continually brought to our knowledge in others and in
ourselves. The world is to a great extent governed
by a regard for human opinion. Instead of tracing
all seemingly good actions up to the impulses of rea-
son and conscience, we are frequently constrained to
admit that their actors have done them in order to
be seen of men. Even the truly Christian man,
while in the main he follows the dictates of duty and
of God, pursues this path through violent struggles,
and at great expense of feeling. When by grace he
has succeeded in accomplishing his duty against the
opinion of many, perhaps of most, sometimes in-
cluding highly valued and excellent persons, he is
deeply conscious that he has come out of a conflict,
and has barely escaped from yielding to the power
which attracted in another direction. But this case
is far too favourable. Multitudes are daily kept
from doing or attem]3ting what they know to be
right, by the dread of what fellow-creatures will
say or think. It is precisely this which keeps some
from entering on a religious life, and owning the
Lord Jesus Christ before men. And this is but one
of a thousand obligations, which men neglect from
fear of human judgment. In this there is such a
weakness, that we are prompt to despise it, when pre-

HUMAN CENStJEE. 325

sented iii tlie abstract, or in tlie case of another,
wMle we are perpetually incurring tlie same con-
demnation by our indecision and cowardice. As
tlie character tlius formed is insusceptible of true
greatness, so it is liable to unspeakable misery. No
man can lift up liis bead witli manly calmness and
peace, who is tbe slave of other men's judgments.
It is, therefore, a matter of great moment, in our
discipline of heart and life, to keep before our minds
those considerations, which shall dispose and enable
us to say with the Apostle Paul, in a notable in-
stance, "With me it is a very small thing that I
should be judged of you or of man's judgment."
Let us, therefore, meditate on the means which, by
God's blessing, shall lift us above this dependence
on the thoughts, caprices, and censures of mankind,
and shall console us when we incur them.

I. The first which I shall mention is a clear
discernment of what our duty is. Here some will
be disposed to say that every man knows what is
right and what is wrong, and that the only defect
is in the will to perform it. But this is one of those
half truths, which often do the office of falsehood.
In nothing do men differ more than in the distinct-
ness with which they apprehend the line of duty.
Conscience, though existing in all men, does not in
all men exert itself with equal power. Conscience
is often called the \dcegerent of God in the heart ;
but this is not to be taken in such a sense as shall
confound God and conscience. As a human faculty
conscience is limited, improvable, or capable of de-

326 CONSOLATION.

velopment, and fallible. As tlie faculty of fallen
man, it is sometimes dark and uninformed, and
sometimes erroneous. The actings of conscience
are twofold; first, to discern what is right and
wrong ; secondly, to recompense right or wrong ac-
tion with correspondent pleasure or pain. In one of
these functions it is combined with the understand-
ing, and may therefore err, and be instructed. If it
were not so, there could be no such thing as moral
instruction, and no need of any revelation of God's
will in the Scriptures. For it is ]3lain, that if con-
science were an umpire, immediate, infallible, and
final, man would need no other rule, and would be
a law unto himself Experience shows that while
conscience, like understanding, is universal, yet like
understanding, it may act in ever varying degrees,
and be stimulated to ever improving power. Ex-
perience shows that conscience may be educated,
and that it may be perverted. Men differ exceed-
ingly from one another in their views of duty. You
shall find one man who sees clearly what is required
of him. The line of his duty is obscured by no
mists, but lies distinctly before him, as a path laid
down with mathematical precision. He never
wavers on the brink of an obligation. His principles
of action are defined and unalterable, and as he ad-
vances in life, the lesser ramifications of duty are
marked out with correspondent precision. You shall
find another man who is perpetually staggering
among the different roads which invite him. His
principles are unfixed and conflicting. He judges

HUMAN CENSURE. 327

that to be right to-day whicli lie condemned yes-
terday. In a thousand cases, therefore, he fails to
accomplish the highest good, by vacillating as to
what is required of him.

It is very evident, that a person thus diseased
and debihtated in his moral character cannot be
greatly independent. Such a man needs the sup-
port of numerous companions. His rule of duty is
very much made up of the opinions of those around
him. Hence he diligently gathers such opinions and
anxiously craves them. As the judgment of fellow-
creatures is in good measure the rule of his conduct,
he trembles at the censures of mortals. Perhaps
few of us have sufficiently considered how directly
this servile weakness is connected with dim and
confused views of duty. If any one is continually
trembling with suspense as to the right or wrong
of actions, he will in the same degree set an undue
value on public opinion, which may often cast into
the balanced scale a preponderating weight. Throw
light into the conscience of such a one ; let the
bounding demarcations of good and evil become
shaip and obvious ; let him see without a misgiving
which way duty points ; and thus far he begins to
be what we justly denominate a man of principle.
As when the mariner, after many days of cloud and
dead reckoning, at length obtains a clear noontide
observation, ascertains his position, and is ready to
dart oft' in the direction of his course ; so the per-
plexed mind, when duty is made apparent, no longer
needs to be in concern about the judgments of men.

328 CONSOLATION.

Mere decision of cliaracter, taken in a worldly
sense, is insufficient to produce this greatness of
character. What is further needed is a clear com-
manding Yiew of duty, as one and unalterable, to
be the polestar in the heavens. It is therefore hard
to overrate the importance of cultivating this distinct
and unclouded apprehension of right and wrong, as
a permanent mental habit. In order to attain this,
we must be often thinking of moral questions, and
settling principles before the hour of trial. In this
likewise men widely differ. Happy is the youth
who begins early to meditate on such subjects, and
to clear his notions, as to what he ought to do in
given emergencies. He will find the bracing influ-
ence of snch views, in moments when all are shaking
around him. Looking only at the principles of eter-
nal right, he will go serenely forward, even in the
face of adverse pojDular opinion. While weaker
minds are halting, to collect the votes of the masses,
he will bare his bosom to the shower of darts, and
march up to the requisitions of conscience, in spite
of the instant tyrant, or, what is often more formi-
dable, of the turbulent populace.

To acquire settled and available decisions re-
specting duty, a man must determine every question
as in the sight of God. Help is here afforded in
the book of revelation. " The commandment of the
Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes." So far as
Scripture is law, it is given for the purpose of in-
forming, directing, and strengthening the conscience.
The study of God's word, for the purpose of discov-

HUMAIS" CENSURE. 329

ering God's will, is tlie secret discipline which has
formed the greatest characters — the Daniels, Pauls,
Luthers, and Howards, of the church. Listening
here, rather than to the shifting voice of human
opinion, we shall gain a robust principle altogether
unknown to the world. But this clear discernment
of duty will not fall to the share of him, who re-
mains undetermined whether to practise that which
he discerns. Wherefore another means of acquiring
Christian independence is now to be mentioned.

2. The second means of rising above undue re-
gard for human judgments, is a determinate purpose
to perform all known duty. This is just as much
more valuable than the preceding, as practice is
above speculation. An habitual disposition of the
Will to keep all God's holy commandments, will
effectually carry a man above any sickly anxieties
respecting the opinion which fellow-creatures may
form of his actions. It is one thing to know what
is required ; and we have seen the knowledge to be
vastly important ; but it is a very different thing,
to comply. Indeed it is a fruit of the Holy Spirit
in the new creature. There is no more sure mark
of discipleshij) than a solemn determination to fulfil
all that is demanded by our righteous Master. " Ye
are my friends," said Christ, " if ye do whatsoever
I command you." The resolution so to do is very
strongly expressed by David : " I have sworn, and
I will jDcrform it, that I will keep thy righteous
judgments." Wicked men sometimes sujipose that
they are ready to do whatever God enjoins ; but a

330 CONSOLATION.

careful examination of their lives and hearts will
show that they daily and willingly break the law,
in thought, word, and deed. As there is no sinless
perfection in this life, even renewed persons have
an inward conflict, which is one of their chief trials.
They find a law in their members warring against
the law of their mind. Still they would do good,
even when evil is present with them. Each can
say, " So then with the mind I serve the law of
Grod, but with the flesh the law of sin." It is this
mind, or settled purpose to live in holy obedience,
which we are now considering. Different Christians,
and the same Christian at difl:erent times, are sub-
ject to marked variations, as to the intensity of this
determination to do what is right ; but wherever it
prevails, it begets the holy independence which we
are seeking.

This will become more clear if we look for a
moment at the contrary temper. Here is a man of
what may be considered general good intentions ; a
professor of piety, if you will, but one who halts and
wavers in his obedience. His mind is not made up
to surrender himself unreservedly to God. He is
not quite sure that if the will of God were clearly
revealed he would have the heart to perform it.
There are some questions of practice which he wil-
lingly leaves in the dark, afraid to examine too
deeply what is duty in the case, lest upon trial he
should be revealed to himself as purposing to abide
in known sin. Now, what we affirm is, that a man
thus situated is in the right mood to become the

HUMAlSr CENSUEE. 331

slave of other men's opinions. He looks around for
company and countenance in his irregularities and
shortcomings. He catches at excuses for this or
that induVence, derived from the sentiments of
those Avho know him. If some great and holy act of
high decision is proposed, as, for instance, to deny
some appetite ; to become reconciled with an offend-
ing brother ; to yield up some sacrifice to Christ ; to
.bestow munificently upon the Lord's cause ; to
throw himself into some gospel labour ; he has no
freedom or boldness to go forward. His feet are
bound ; his hand is palsied. Every whisper of
worldly professors which can excuse his delay is
welcome to him ; for he lacks that high resolve
which would bear him triumphantly over all the
surges of adverse opinion.

What a glow of healthful strength and liberty,
on the other hand, is felt by one who has made it
the law of his life to do what God ordains at all
hazards ! His course is clear. What matters it to
him whether man approves or disapproves ? That
which he seeks is not human approval, but the keep-
ing of the commandments of God. When he has
once discovered what his Master has required of
him, all duljiety is ended. He will advance to the
performance, though all the world should rebuke.

Cases occur in which one actually performs a
duty, but at the expense of great inward pain and
mortification, from the opposing judgments of friends.
Now, such pain is relieved by the abiding conscious-
ness of right. The voice of an approving conscience,

332 CONSOLATION.

uttered loudly in tlie bosom, overpowers and drowns
all voices of rasli censure. The reason, or one great
reason, why we sometimes feel distress, even in the
performance of right actions, is, that our purpose to
risk all for the sake of what is right has not risen to
the proper degree.

This was felt by the apostle Paul at the time of
his conversion. He might have said : " How is it
possible for me to break forth at once as a preacher
of Christianity? It is to incur the hatred or the
scorn of all my nation, and the indignant censure of
all my friends. Universal judgment is against me.
To act thus is to incur the shame of a sudden unac-
countable tergiversation. I shall become a proverb
and a name of reproach to all the scoffers in Israel."
But how did he act ? Hear his own words : " When
it pleased God to reveal his Son in me, ....
immediately I conferred not with flesh and blood."
Gal. 1:15. His purpose was immovable, to do what
was right, come what would. This was in favour-
able contrast with the dissimulation of Peter at An-
tioch (2 : 11), who ceased to eat with the Gentiles,
when " certain came from James ;" and " separated
himself, fearing them that were of the circumcision,
insomuch that Barnabas also was carried away with
their dissimulation." Let me say to my readers,
if you would learn to consider the judgment of
mortals a small thing, grow in your resolution to do
all that God commands. Prefer it to honour ; prefer
it to pleasure ; prefer it to life. It will be to you a
perpetual commendation from the inward monitor ;

HUMAN CENSUEE. 333

and the sweet testimony of a good conscience to-
ward God and man will enable you to smile serene-
ly, tliougli all the world, and many who are named
Christians, condemn and reproach you.

3. A principal means to prevent too high a re-
gard for human censure, is the conviction that the
judgments of men are insignificant. This is the pre-
cise import of Paul's w^ords — " It is a very small thing
that I should be judged of man's judgment." Here,
my brethren, is the ver}^ point. This is the persua-
sion which we need to have deeply engraved on our
minds. The reason why we are concerned and
shaken by man's judgment, is because we consider
it a great thing, when in reality it is contemptibly
small, as I now proceed to show.

There is, perhajDS, not one of our known actions
which is not brought into review by some of our
fellow-creatures — a self-constituted inquest for this
purpose. The more elevated the person, the more
23ublic his sphere, the larger will be the number of
his judges. Thus, when any great man is named
for high office, how are his secret things sought out ;
how is his private life brought into review ; how
bitter, malignant, false, and foolish, are the awards
of over-heated partisans on one side and the other !
But no one of us is so humble as to escape. The
very beggar at our doors, probably, stands in awe
of some tribunal among his mendicant acquainir
ances, which sits in judgment on his acts.

Now, human judgments may be disregarded, be-
cause they are passing away. IN'othing is more

334 CONSOLATIOIT.

transient. Tliey last but a moment. Tliey are a
breeze, whicli lulls or changes as soon as it is observ-
ed. Let wisdom teach you not to observe it at all.
" All flesh is grass," and each generation of man is
rapidly passing from time into eternity. But long
before the persons dejDart, their judgments have
ceased and been forgotten. Why should we be
wounded or hindered by a breath that fleets away ?

Again, human judgments are inoperative. They
amount to nothing. They are arrows which do not
reach us, exce]3t so far as we put ourselves in their
way. The opinion of other men, of all men together,
upon our actions and character, need not weigh a
feather with us, except so far as they coincide with
the decree of reason and conscience. They do not
affect our happiness ; they cannot reach the inward
man. To tremble at them, or to shrink from duty
on account of them, or to go haltingly and timorously
on with duty from morbid regard to them, is to flee
from a shaking leaf, and to turn pale at a shadow.

The judgments of men are, furthermore, in a
great number of instances, pronounced with small
opportunity for arriving at the truth. All are not
wise who assume the censor's chair. Foolish and
ignorant persons are apt to be most forward in vent-
ing their hasty conclusions, and these utterances go
to form what is called public opinion. Wretched is
the man who waits and hearkens for this, to guide
his practice, or as if any thing depended on it.
Man's judgment is very small, when we look at the
authority possessed by those who claim to judge.

HUMAN CENSTTEE. 335

Tliere is liardly any part of a weak and yielding
man's character, for wliicli he can make less reason-
able apology than his deference to the opinion of
men. Their words concerning him, and their rash
judgments of him, are promj)ted in many instances
by prejudice and malignant affections. They often
utter more disapprobation than they feel, and as
often disapprove from some secret spite or ignoble
grudge. If we are to be pained, harassed, and ob-
structed in our course by the voices around us, we
thereby put our happiness and our very usefulness
at the mercy of our enemies and the enemies of
truth.

Human judgments are of small moment, because
they are conflicting among themselves. Ancient fable
might teach us that no line of conduct will certainly
please every one. The path of wisdom is to be re-
gulated, therefore, without regard to the pleasing of
men. " If I please men," says Paul, " I should not
be the servant of Chiist." Act as you will, some will
be displeased. And no marvel ; for as has been well
said, how can we expect to please men, who are dis-
pleased with God, and not seldom displeased with
themselves ? The purity of an angel would not
escape the tongues of those who denounced John the
Baptist as a demoniac, and the Son of God as a wine-
bibber. Surely it is not from the verdict of such a
world, that we are to judge of our own actions.
These very opinions are changeable as the moon,
and they will condemn and acquit the same conduct,
almost in the same breath.

836 CONSOLATION.

But, above all, we must learn to undervalue
man's judgments, wlien we consider liow often tliey
are erroneous, false, and displeasing to God. Human
eyes penetrate but a little way. Man judgetli ac-
cording to the outward appearance. We liave only
to look at wliat tlie world approves and disapproves,
for a single day, to see that it is fallible, blind, and
presumptuous. As well might we take our bearmgs
from clouds or meteors, as regulate our conduct by
the opinions of men. And no one will ever attain
to any true greatness of character, until he comes to
leave this absolutely out of view, in shaping his
course through life. From earliest youth, all persons
should be trained to look higher, and to settle ques-
tions of duty, on fixed moral principles, without re-
course to these fallacious tests. Let a man take this
lofty view of duty, which becomes a Christian, and
he will no longer shudder when he finds his best ac-
tions exposed to obloquy. Those who are God's
enemies will be his enemies, so far as he resembles
God. He will remember the blessing pronounced
on those of whom all manner of evil is spoken false-
ly ; and the woe uttered against professors of whom
all men speak well.

It is painful, but unavoidable, to add that the
opinion even of fellow-Christians is not to be taken
as our rule. To his beloved Corinthians, Paul says,
'' With me it is a very small thing that I should be
judged of you." Good men may pass wrong judg-
ments. From ignorance of facts and circumstances,

HOIAN CENSUEE. 33^

from inattention, haste, or false report, from moral
obliquity, from bias, from interest, from jjassion, from
remaining unsanctified tempers, even believers may
judge us amiss. Their ojDiuion has not been made
our rule. Sometimes we may be called upon to
perform acts which even our beloved Christian
brethren disapprove. It is one of the sorest trials
of an honest and affectionate mind. In such circum-
stances we must remember the saying of the excellent
Haly burton, that though God has promised to guide
his inquiring child in the way that is right, he hath
nowhere promised to make this way seem right to
friends and neighbours. Yet if a man's ways please
the Lord, he will cause even his enemies to be at
peace with him. Viewed, then, in every light, the
judgments of men concerning our conduct do not
seem worthy of being taken into the account. And
it should be the lesson of our life, to grow into a
holy independence of every judgment which has not
the sanction of conscience and of God.

3. The last and principal means of living in
disregard of man's judgment, is to keep in \dew
the awful judgment of God. That this was be-
fore the apostle's mind, in the case cited, is suffi-
ciently manifest. " With me," says he, " it is a very
small thing that I should be judged of you, as of
man's judgment ; yea, I judge not mine own self,"
i. <?., it is no self approbation or self-condemnation
which can carry authority with it. " For I know
nothing by (or against) myself ; yet am I not
hereby justified: but he that judgeth me is the
22

338 CONSOLATIOIT.

Lord * This is tlie controlling consideration. The
opinions of poor, frail, erring, dying man, whose
breath is in his nostrils, is nothing, is less than no-
thing and vanity, when I come to regard the great
Omniscient Judge of the Universe. The honour
which Cometh from men, and which some are found
willing to fight for and die for — what is it, com-
pared with the honour that cometh from God only ?
Sup230se men condemn me, and cast out my name
as evil, yea, suppose all men unite in censure and
reprobation ; what is this, if He that sitteth in the
heavens looks down with approval ? This, my
brethren, is the only true ground to take, in regard to
the regulation of our conduct, to do all, as in the im-
mediate presence of God and as subject to his ani-
madversion. In his balances all our acts are weighed.
Each word, each thought, as it rises into existence,
is passed upon by him who is All- wise and All-holy.
To live under such an impression elevates and puri-
fies the character. How serenely, how loftily may

* It is worthy of notice that in two places in our admirable ver-
sion, common readers are liable to miss the sense, from the great
variety of meanings belonging to the English preposition ly. The first
is Acts 20 : 16, " For Paul had determined to sail ly Ephesus." That
is, as the Greek instantly shows, he would not make his voyage via
Ephesus, but would pass it by. The other is the passage cited above,
1 Cor, 4:4, " For I know nothing lyy myself," ovblv yap ejxavTco avvocda.
That is, I am conscious of nothing against myself. Here the mind is
misled by a use of the English particle which has long fallen out of
the language. This is evident from collating the older versions;
" For I am no thing ouertrowing to my silf." — Wiclif. " For I am
not guilty in conscience of any thing." — Eheims. "Nihil enim mihi
conscius sum." — Vulgate. Therefore correctly given by Doddridge;
*' I am not conscious to myself of any thing criminal."

HUMAN CENSUEE. 339

a true Christian go on in the performance of some
distasteful or unj^opular duty, if he can say with as-
surance, " I know that the eye of my God looks
down with approbation on what I am doing." This
sustained Paul, and has sustained God's most faith-
ful servants in every age ; the thought and assurance
of God as ever sitting in judgment upon every act.

The day is coming, very soon, when all the
judgments of men, which now give you so unwise a
concern, shall be blotted out, as clouds of the morn-
ing or turbid dreams of feverish dehrium ; and
when you will be transfixed by contemplating the
righteous, final, incontrovertible doom of the All-see-
ing and Almighty Jehovah. In those moments when
you feel yourselves in danger of being unduly moved
by human opinion, let your attentive thoughts hurry
forwards to the time — behold it is at the door —
when the trumpet shall sound, the globe shall trem-
ble in the mighty hand of Him that made it, the
graves and seas shall render up their dead, the throne
shall be set, and the books shall be opened ; when
the Son of Man shall come in his glory and all the
holy angels with him, and shall sit ujDon the throne
of his glory ; when all nations shall be gathered be-
fore him, and be separated on his right hand and
his left ; and when, in your presence, in your hear-
ing, and addressing himself to you, he shall utter
one of these solemn sentences — Come, ye blessed of
my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you
from the foundation of the world — or, De]3art from
me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the

340 COl^SOLATION.

devil and his angels. At that awful juncture, which
assuredly awaits you, at what value, think ye, will
you hold the decisions of fellow-worms upon your
conduct ? With what degree of comj^lacency will
you look back upon the servile compliances, the
shrinkings from duty, the doubtful indulgences, the
worldly conformities, into which you have been
tempted by regard for human approbation or cen-
sure ? This, this — believe me — is the great com-
manding motive, which ought to keep you upright,
amidst the conflicting voices of popular judgment.
Let your souls be absorbed by the just judgment
of God. Fear God more, and you will fear man
less. And, in regard to others, be instructed by the
words of the apostle, and "judge nothing before
the time, until the Lord come, who both will bring
to light the hidden things of darkness, and will
make manifest the counsels of the hearts : and then
shall every man have praise of God."

And O ye, who have been the slaves of human
opinion, and have done all yom' works to be seen
of men; what shall it profit you to have had the
acclamations of the multitude, if, when driven away
in utter nakedness and arraigned before the tribunal
from which there is no appeal, you feel the eye
of God piercing you to the heart, and the frown of
God withering your disconsolate spirit ! All things
earthly are tending towards that awful consummation.
All our days are preparing materials for the adju-
dication of " that day." And alas ! how unprepared
are some who read these words, for that appearance

HUMAlSr CEIfSUEE. 341

before God ! Can it be possible tliat we remain
unconcerned, when no voice lias yet assured us whe-
ther the Judge shall place us on the right hand or
the left ? Yet on one or the other, must you and I
speedily stand. The time is short. The days are
hastening. The sands are falling. The doom is im-
pending. " What meanest thou, O sleeper ? arise,
call upon thy God, if so be that God will think
upon us, that we perish not." And I am bound, be-
fore I close, to declare, that no strength of bare
human resolution, no philosophical dignity, no self-
righteous purpose, will avail to produce this mde-
pendent elevation of character. There must be an
operation which shall reach to the inward sources
of action, with revolutionary power. Ye must be
born again. Ye must be at peace with God. What is
imperatively demanded, is not merely new views, but
a new nature. In which I find a mighty argument
with which I may urge every reader, as here I do, to
seek true vital piety, and to seek it without delay.
Then — when the Holy Sj)irit shall take your heart
into his moulding hand — you will be delivered from
the mortifying experience of mean indecision, truck-
ling to the demands of the world, broken resolutions,
and a violated conscience. Christian brethren, let it
be our daily prayer that we may cease from man,
whose breath is in his nostrils, and look to God as the
Judge that ever standeth at the door. " Therefore,
my beloved brethren, be ye steadfast, unmovable, al-
ways abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as
ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord."

CONSOLATION DERIVED FROM A REVIEW
OF CHRISTIAN MARTYRDOM.

XV.

THE sufferings of Clirist's faitliful martyrs not
only furnish an attestation to the truth of Chris-
tianity, but evince its power to support the soul
under the greatest sufferings. And herein the study
is one eminently promotive of consolation.

One of the great evils which have been wrought
by Popery is that it has cast suspicion and rebuke
on many good things which belong as much to us
as to them, but which we can scarcely use with lib-
erty for fear of superstition. This has remarkably
been the case in regard to the sufferings of the
saints. At a very early age', unsuspecting the evil
which should follow, surviving friends began to
honour the remains and frequent the tombs of the
martyrs ; hence followed, in irresistible progress, the
consecration of set days, the doctrine of supereroga-
tory merit, the canonization of saints, and the worship
of relics. Notwithstanding all this, we, my brethren,
have an interest in the heroic work of the martyrs :
they are ours as well as Rome's ; and we are not to
be cheated out of our right to the example, proof^
and incitement afforded by them, because a corrupt
church has made their names the watchword of

346 CONSOLATION.

error. This lias been beautifully expressed by one
of the brightest luminaries of the modern Anglican
church, who sufficiently proved himself the foe of
Popery and its imitations. " It is likely enough,"
says the late Dr. Arnold, " that Gibbon has truly
accused the general statements of exaggeration. But
this is a thankless labour, such as Lingard and
others have undertaken with respect to the St. Bar-
tholomew massacre, and the Irish massacre of 1642.
Divide the sum total of reputed martyrs by twenty
— ^by fifty, if you will— but, after all, you have a num-
ber of persons, of all ages and sexes, suffering cruel
torments, and a death for conscience' sake and for
Christ's, and by their sufferings manifestly, with
God's blessing, insuring the triumph of Christ's gos-
pel. Neither, do I think, do we consider the exist-
ence of this martyr-spirit half enough. I do not
think that pleasure is a sin. The Stoics of old, and
the ascetic Christians since, who have said so, have
in saying so overstepped the simplicity and the wis-
dom of Christian truth. But though pleasure is not
a sin, yet surely the contemplation of suffering for
Christ's sake is a thing most needful for us in our
days, from whom in our daily life suffering seems so
far removed. And as God's grace enabled rich and
delicate persons, women, and even children, to en-
dure all extremities of pain and rejDroach in times
past, so there is the same grace no less mighty now ;
and if we do not close ourselves against it, it might
in us be no less glorified in a time of trial. And
that such time of trial will come, my children, in

THE MARTYES. 34T

your days, if not in mine, I do believe fully, both
from tlie teaching of man's wisdom and of God's."

When our Lord, in predicting the arrest and
trial of his disciples, says to them, " And it shall
turn to you for a testimony ;" the meaning is, your
persecutions, when foes shall lay their hands on
you, this shall turn to you for a testimony : it shall
aiFord you an opportunity to testify for Christ in
the most striking circumstances, and with the great-
est effect. The word rendered " testimony " is kin-
dred to our word martyr^ which is only the Greek
for ivitness^ one who bears testimony. Ye shall, by
means of your faith and endurance, be witnesses for
my gospel. Let me, then, call your attention to the
lessons to be drawn from the testimony of the mar-
tyrs. But first, we must consider who and what the
martyrs were.

I. A martyr, it has already been said, is a wit-
ness ; but, in the language of the church, one who
bears witness to Christianity by his death; while
the term confessor was applied to those who, before
persecuting magistrates, fiimly hazarded punishment
for confessing Christ. The confessor became a mar-
tyr by shedding his blood. In this sense we con-
stantly speak of "martyrs and confessors." The
ancient historians reckon exactly ten persecutions ;
but it is scarcely possible to confine the number to
this. They arose from the iron determination of
the heathen powers to suppress the true religion ;
for I pass over the earlier persecutions under the
Jews, from Stephen onward. 1 desire to afi:brd some

348 CONSOLATION.

glimpses of tlie scenes of martyrdom, confining my-
self to ancient authorities, and uncontradicted narra-
tives. The name of Nero has a black celebrity.
" Examine your records," said TertuUian, in his Apo-
logy ; " there you will find that Nero was the first that
persecuted this [Christian] doctrine .... He
that knows who he was, may also know, that Nero
could condemn only what was great and good." It
is believed that Paul was a martyr under Nero. I
will not enter into the question as to the number of
the martyrs. Though superstition has exaggerated
in this point, we cannot deny the concurrent testi-
mony of all ancient records, that thousands on
thousands were slain for Christ's sake. Those who
were lowest, such as paupers and slaves, escaped most
easily ; the ministers, the learned, and men of wealth,
were sure to be summoned to this ordeal. The per-
secution, which was closed by the death of Nero,
broke out afresh under his imitator, Domitian. Their '
names have come down to posterity besprinkled
with the same blood. " Nero," says TertuUian, "was
content to have executions, ordered at a distance;
Domitian chose to have them under his own eyes."
The mild and gentle Trajan was a persecutor. Hap-
pily there remains to us a portion of his correspond-
ence with Phny the Younger, who was, under him,
governor of Bithynia. This gives us the assurance
derived from Gentile testimony. Pliny writes to
his sovereign to know what is to be done, when so
many thousand Christians are willing to go to the
stake. Hear the account given by this heathen ma-

THE MAKTYRS. 349

gistrate ; it forms part of a state paper, or official
report : " I have taken this course with those who
are brought before me. I asked them if they were
Christians; if they confessed, I asked them, again^
threatening punishment ; if they persisted, I com-
manded them to be executed. The case demands
your orders, from the vast numbers who are in dan-
ger ; for many of all ranks and ages, both men and
women, will be arrested, as the pestilence of this su-
perstition has overspread, not only cities, but towns
and country villages."

During this reign suffered Clement of Rome,
Simon of Jerusalem, and Ignatius of Antioch. The
last is memorable. He was condemned by Trajan
himself, who ordered him to be sent from Asia to
Rome, and there to be thrown to wild beasts. But
his journey was a missionary tour, in which he pro-
bably did more than in all his life toward the
strengthening of the brethren. " From Syria even
to Rome," says he, " I fight with beasts, by
land and sea, day and night; bound with ten leo-
pards (that is, a guard of soldiers,) who are worse
for the favours I do them. I pray that the beasts
may desjDatch me quickly ; but I know what is best
for me. Now I begin to be a disciple, desiring
nothing of things seen or unseen, that so I may gain
Christ. Let fire, cross, droves of ravenous beasts,
wounds and convulsions come upon me, so only that
I may enjoy Jesus Christ."

Under Adrian, the successor of Trajan, an inci-
dent occurred in proconsular Asia which is instruc-

350 CONSOLATION.

tive. Tertullian relates, that wlien Arrius Antoni-
nus was beginning to persecute in a certain city,
tlie whole of the population beset his tribunal,
and oj)enly avowed themselves to be Christians.
He could only order a few to be executed as ex-
amples.

As, however, a far more distinct impression is
made on our minds by a few particular incidents,
than by general enumerations, I will dwell a little
on the famous instance of the churches of Yienne and'
Lyons on the Rhone, in the second century. This
persecution raged under the philosophic emperor
M. Aurelius Antoninus, and we are better acquainted
with the details, because the historian Eusebius has
preserved letters written on the subject, by these
churches, to their brethren in Asia Minor."^ There
is something very affecting in the letters of these
simple-hearted people, penned amidst the very hor-
rors of which they tell. The populace had been in-
flamed by the calumnies of the age which accused the
Christian assemblies of licentious and bloody crimes.
" The Christians," say the letters, " nobly sustained all
the evils that were heaped upon them by the mob —
outcries, blows, plunder, stoning, imprisonment.
Then they were hurried to the Forum, and when
examined by the tribune and magistrates, in pre-
sence of the multitude, they were shut up in prison
till the arrival of the governor." " They seemed un-
prepared indeed and inexperienced, and too weak
for the mighty conflict. About ten fell away, caus-

* Enseb. v. i. 55.

THE MAETYES. 351

ing excessive sorrow to the brethren. We were
filled with suspense and anguish lest the remainder
should apostatize." There were arrests every day,
till all the more zealous members of the two churches
were collected. Particular mention is made of a
poor servant- woman named Blandina. " For Avhilst
we were all trembling, and her earthly mistress, who
was herself one of the contending martyrs, was ap-
prehensive lest by the weakness of the flesh she
should not make a bold jDrofession, Blandina was
filled with such power, that her ingenious tormentors,
who relieved and succeeded one another from morn-
ing till night, confessed that they were overcome,
and had nothing more that they could inflict on her."
" Wrestling nobly in the fight, this blessed saint,
from time to time, found strength to say, ' I am a
Christian ! No wickedness is carried on by us.' "

From Sanctus, another martyr, no extent of
torture could extort any declaration but this,
" Christianus sum I I am a Christian !" Pothinus,
a venerable minister, more than ninety years of age,
and very infirm, seemed to live only that Christ
might triumph in him. After being delivered over
to the blows and indignities of the mob, he lay two
days in prison, and then died of the injuries. On
the last day of the gladiatorial games, Blandina, al-
ready named, and Ponticus (a Christian boy aged
fifteen) were brought in, as they were every day,
to see the torments of the rest. " Force was used
to make them swear by their idols, and when they
continued fii'm, and denied the gods, the mob b<a-

352 CONSOLATION.

came outrageous, pitying neither tlie sex of one nor
the you til of the other. Hence they subjected them
to every horrible suffering, and led them through the
whole round of torture, ever and anon striving to
make them swear, but in vain. The boy (as the
heathens could see) was encouraged and uj^held by
the words of a Christian sister ; he nobly bore the
whole sufferings, and gave up his life." I forbear
describing the death of Blandina by a wild beast,
though it is detailed. " Even the Gentiles confessed
that no woman among them had ever endured suf-
ferings as many and as great as these." Allow me
to remind you, my brethren, that the essential thing
in all these persecutions is, that these martyrs died
testifying ; it turned to them for a testimony.

Instead of pursuing the account of persecutions
under successive emperors, let me add two testi-
monies of ancient writers ; you will not fail to give
them that weight which belongs to declarations re-
corded at the time. The first is by Sulpicius Seve-
rus, an elegant writer of the fourth century : " Un-
der the reign of Diocletian and Maximian, for ten
years the persecution constantly preyed on the
Lord's people, during which the whole world was
full of the sacred blood of martyrs. Never was the
world more exhausted by wars, and never did we
conquer by a greater triumph, than when with ten
years' suffering we could not be overcome."

The other is TertuUian. " Good governors,'*
said he, " you may torment, afflict, and vex us ; your
wickedness tries our innocency, and therefore God

THE MAETYES. 353

lets US suffer it ; but all your cruelty is to no pur-
pose ; it is but a stronger invitation to bring others
i;o our sect. Tlie oftener we are mowed clown, the
ranker do we spring up again. The hlood of the
Christians is the seed of the church. Many of your
philosophers have exhorted their hearers to patience
under suffering and death ; as Cicero in his Tusculans,
Seneca, Diogenes, Pyrrho, and Callinicus ; but they
could never make so many disciples, by all their fine
discourses, as the Christians have by acts. That
very obstinacy you charge upon us serves to instruct
others. For who, beholding such things, will not
be moved to inquire what is the truth from which
they proceeded? and when he has found it, will
he not embrace it ? and having embraced it, will he
not desire to suffer for it ? Therefore we give thanks
for your sentence, knowing that the judgments of
men do not agree with those of God ; for when we
are condemned by you, we are absolved by Him."

Without intending to enlarge on their history, I
may add, that the princij)le is equally illustrated in
the case of all those witnesses for the truth, in later
ages, who have suffered under a wicked hierarchy,
even down to the poor expatriated Portuguese, from
the island of Madeira. Thus the Waldenses. They
were just as really persecuted by the j)opes as ever
their fathers were by the emperors. Between 11 76
and 122 G, there was such havoc of them, that even
the Archliishops of Aix, Aries, and Narbonne, con-
sulting with the inquisitors, expressed some pity at
the multitudes who were cast into prison. In the
23

354 CONSOLATION.

year 12 GO, tlie number of Waldeiises was reckoned
at eight liiindred thousand. The Albigenses were
so numerous that they were made the object of a
crusade. To recount the martyrdoms of Protestant-
ism would be to recite the folios of the pious and
laborious Foxe. The name of Smithfield can never
be forgotten by descendants of Great Britain. In
these, as in the ancient times, the arrest and perse-
cution of God's people turned to them for a testi-
mony ; affording only so many new opportunities of
publicly avowing the truth of Christianity. The
general result is sufficiently clear, that in every age
Christians have been found ready to hazard the
greatest sufferings rather than deny Christ, and have
gone out of the world in torments of body, but tri-
umph of soul, declaring their belief of the gospel.

II. (1.) Among the invaluable lessons to be de-
duced from the sufferings of Christian martyrs, the
first is this : Theij furnish attestation to the trntli of
Christianity. They thus turned to those who suffered
for a testimony. The great foundation of the credi-
bility of divine messengers is the miracles which
were wrought to certify their legation. The
Apostles and many of the primitive Christians
attested the truth by martyrdom. This is a fact
as undeniable as any in history. Do I hear you ob-
ject, that martyrdom may be suffered for falsehood
as well as truth ; our reply is, that the objection does
not meet the point of the reasoning. Our argument
is not that the martyrdom directly proves the doc-
trine to be true, but that it proves the sincerity of

THE MARTYRS. 355

him who testifies. In regard to the miracles of
Christianity, prove the sincerity, and you prove
the facts. These facts, it admits of easy proof, are
of such a nature, that the reporters could not be de-
ceived. The primitive martyrs had the opportunity
of arriving at absolute truth, with regard to the facts
alleged ; and their dying for the truth is in the cir-
cumstances as strong proof of the miracles as the
case admits. Never forget that they could one and
all have escaped all their torments, by denying these
facts, or by the simplest renunciation of Christianity.
Here I will quote another passage from Pliny, in re-
gard to those who were apprehended under the
charge of being Christians : " A paper was pre-
sented, accusing certain persons therein named of
being Christians. These, when, after my example,
they invoked the gods, and offered wine and incense
to your statue, which for that purpose I caused to
be brought, and when, moreover, they had blas-
phemed the name of Christ (which, it is said, none
who are true Christians will ever do), I dismissed."
All the tortures of the heathen were intended to bring
them to this denial. A single word, a single morsel
of incense, an inclination of the head, would have
saved their lives. But, no ! they died under excru-
ciating pains, rather than renounce. 'No man, wo-
man, or child suffered for Christianity under any
other compulsion than that of conscience. " Every
martyr made a voluntary sacrifice of himself to main-
tain the truth, and to preserve a good conscience."
Christianity was not then a religion of imposture.

356 CONSOLATION.

These men were sincere. No rational mind can doubt
it. Multitudes of persons gave the strongest possible
testimony to their belief of certain facts, which
passed under their own observation, and in which
they could not have been deceived. The case of
later martyrs, though not so cogent, as to the proof
of the original facts, is equally so, as to their own
sincerity of belief. These sufferers were true be-
lievers. The system under which they suffered was
one that commanded the mind's conviction. And
the strength of this conviction is measured by the
intensity of the sufferings endured, and the terror of
the evils threatened. What, therefore, must we say
of the sincerity which resists the greatest of mortal
apprehensions, namely, that of death ! An instance
may possibly be found here and there of some fana-
tical or obstinate villain, who from insane pride may
die for what he believes untrue ; but here are mul-
titudes of all conditions, and in various ages. If, in-
deed, this does not prove sincerity of belief, it would
be vain to look for any such proof.

(2.) The history of the martyrs is a testimony
to tlie 2^oiver of Christianity to supi^ort tlie soul
under great sufferings^ and this is the main point
in our present discussion. " Persons of all ages, of
all conditions in life, and of both sexes, exhibited
under protracted and cruel torments, a fortitude, a
patience, a meekness, a spirit of charity and forgive-
ness, a cheerfulness, yea, often a triumphant joy, of
which there are no exam2:>k\s to be found in the his-
tory of the world. They rejoiced when they were

THE MARTYRS. 357

arrested ; clieerfally bade adieu to their nearest and
dearest relations ; gladly embraced the stake ; wel-
comed the wild beasts let loose to devour them;
smiled on the horrible aj^paratus by which their
sinews were to be stretched, and their bones dislo-
cated and broken ; uttered no comjDlaints ; gave no
indication of pain, when their bodies were enveloj^ed
in flames ; and when condemned to die, begged of
their friends to interpose no obstacle to their felicity
(for such they esteemed martyrdom), not even by
prayers for their deliverance." What sustained
these sufferers ? It was their belief in Christianity.
They never pretended that it was aught beside. If
any thing may be regarded as established, even
by the concessions of adversaries, it is that the Chris-
tian system imparted to the humblest and weakest
a fortitude and a constancy which were unknown to
the schools of philosophy. This was, indeed, the
chief mortification of the persecutors. Exhausting
their whole resources in vain against aged men,
feeble women, and inexj^erienced children, they were
at length diiven to wilder means, as discovering that
Christianity could not be quenched in blood. These
aspects of martyrdom, my brethren, ought by no
means to be neglected. That thousands should have
died so supported is not an uninteresting fact in the
world's history. " Keither," says the noble Arnold,
" should we forget those who, by their sufferings,
were more than conquerors, not for themselves
only, but for us, in securing to us the safe and tri-
umphant existence of Christ's blessed faith — in

358 CONSOLATION^.

securing to us tlie possibility (these are tlie words
of a clergyman of tlie Cliurcli of England), nay, the
actual enjoyment, had it not been for the Antichrist
of the j)riesthood, of Christ's holy and glorious
church, the congregation and commonwealth of
Christ's people.*

O my brethren, we should have higher views
of Christ and of his religion, if we could enter more
fully into the conflicts of those who have suffered
for his sake ; if we could trace the growth of Chris-
tian martyrdom from its first fainting origin, when
the shuddering soul dreaded the hour of coming
trial ;- through the hours, days, weeks, and months
of prayer and meditation ; up to the critical moment
when all was surrendered and all ventured for
Christ ; if we could comprehend the resignation,
the peace, and the victorious confidence of the in-
stant, when the soul reached its highest joy in dis-
solution, and just hovering between time and eter-
nity forgot its pangs in the visions of God. O what
are gibbets, fires, wild beasts, or inquisitorial racks,
to one who already feels his union with Christ, and
knows that death is swallowed up in victory !

(3.) The martyrdom of God's children is a testi-
mony that God ^vill he %oitli us in our oion coming
trials. The argument is easy : He who was with
them will be with us. It is God's presence with the
martyr which sustains him, and makes him callous
to the knife or the torture, and deaf to the fierce
clamours of the multitude. I believe that the soul

* Life, p. 498.

THE MARTYRS. 359

may be so raised above suffering of tlie body as to
be as tliouo'li it knew tliem not. We have seen it
many times in smaller degree, in onr common hu-
man observation. But the record of early Christians
and of those who suffered under popery, shows that
grace actually neutralized bodily anguish.

But what we are now to observe is, that this
sustaining power is not confined to the dungeon, the
arena, or the stake. Martyrs are not the only suf-
ferers ; and wherever there are Christian sufferers,
there is Christ. In vehement diseases ; in long-con-
tinued and exhausting pains of body ; in paroxysms
of anguish ; in nervous trepidations, sinkings and
horrors ; weaknesses more hard to bear than pain ;
and in the convulsions of death ; the bodies of be-
lievers often call for the same sustaining power
which was granted to the martyrs, and they receive
it. There is no affliction which can befall us, that
is too great for grace. Let me not confine myself
to distresses of the outer man. There are wounds
of soul which are greater than all wounds of body.
The spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity, but a
wounded spirit who can bear ! None, my brethren,
unless sustained by Him who " healeth the broken
in heart, and bindeth up their wounds."

As our Lord told his disciples that persecutions
and arrests would surely come upon them, but that
this ought not to dishearten, as it should turn to
them for a testimony, and thus they should be able
more abundantly to show forth the power of God :
so he seems to tell us, that trials and adversities

360 CONSOLATION.

will overtake us, but that this shall turn to us for a
testimony, and offer new occasions to glorify our
supporting God. We cannot tell what our troubles
shall be ; and we cannot tell what our consolations
shall be under them. It is not the plan of our Lord
to give us his special grace before it is needed. We
are not therefore to be discouraged because we have
not at this moment that boldness and resolution
which shall be needed in the emergency. God will
never be wanting. He has said, " I will never leave
thee nor forsake thee." If God be for us, who can
be against us ! Especially in the ine^dtable hour of
death, when you have passed beyond the reach of
physicians and dearest friends, and when those who
love you best will be mute and motionless beside
your bed ; when your limbs have already stretched
themselves for the coffin, and your glassy eyes fixed
themselves in their last position ; — when your soul
shall be falling back on its faith (if it has any) and
looking forward to its impending judgment : in that
hour, the God of the martyrs wiU be with you!
Let every recorded triumph of faith be to you for a
testimony. " I tremble," said dying Beza, " lest
having come to the end of my voyage, I now make
shipwreck, in the very harbour." No, no — Christ
will not forsake his people in the hour of their ex-
tremity. It is indeed a time, when Satan often
rages, because his time is short ; but thanks be to
God, who giveth us the victory through our Lord
Jesus Christ. We ought often to be entertaining
thoughts of death, and of our own dying ; and among

THE MARTYRS. 361

the considerations wMcli help to prepare for this
hour, one is the support which God has given in
former times to those who were dying violent
deaths for his sake. Do not think that this will
make death more dreadful. All the contrary.

The writer may be pardoned for making an ob-
servation in his own person. Belonging to a profes-
sion which often calls me to stand by dying beds, I
do here testify, that I have never had the dread of
death so much removed, as when I have seen it
triumphed over by the true believer, even amidst
great pangs of body. O readers (every one of whom
is soon to die — though some, perhaps, have little pre-
paration), may God give you the wisdom to be se-
curing that provision for the great hour, which is
derived from his gospel ! For be assured, the faith
of the martyrs is what must be your stay in that
tremendous moment.

4. Finally ; as it is not forbidden to mingle re-
proof with consolation, the testimony of martyrs in
their pangs is a testimony against our lukeivaronness
and unhelief. It is impossible to reflect on their
history and not own this. Theirs was Christianity in
earnest. How different from ours! Suppose a
mighty persecution to break out in our day ; our
churches to be closed ; our ministry to be imprison-
ed, or chased away ; our Bibles to be burnt. Sup-
pose coming to the communion to be the same as
coming to peril or death. Suppose the name of
Christ a reproach, and the dominant population
armed against us ; is it not your belief that many a

362 CONSOLATION.

Christian cliurcli would be tliinned, and tliat many
a liigli professor would be found, like Simon Peter,
denying in the outer hall ? Of this there were some
examples in early times, and some examjjles even
among Christians. They were called La]^si^ the
lapsed. But O with what bitterness did they
lament their weakness, even to the end of life!
You remember the recantation of Cranmer, and
how soon, how bitterly, and how constantly he re-
pented of it. His dying prayer breathes lowliness
for the sin : " O God the Son, thou wast not made
man, nor was this great mystery wrought, for few
or small offences^'' <fec. Then he confessed before
the people his inconstancy with great profusion of
tears, saying, " the great thing that troubled his con-
science was, that for fear of death he had written
with his hand contrary to the truth which he
thought in his heart. " And tlierefore (cried the old
man, in the holy violence of zeal), my hand shall
be punished first. If I may come at the fire, it shall
be first burnt!" At the stake, accordingly, he
stretched out his hand, which was distinctly seen
to be burning alive, and cried, " This liand liatli of-
fended T Surely he could say, " Like Peter, I have
sinned ; but by grace, like Peter, I have wept !"
God has chosen to let the great and learned some-
times fall, to show us what is in man ; and to hold
up the timid woman and the feeble child, to show
us what is in God. But, fellow-Christians, what
preparation have you for trials, losses, fears, pains,
bereavements, and death ? If you can so ill bear

THE MARTYES. 363

the daily crosses of life, and are so easily affrighted
by the sneers or the inconveniences that befall you ;
if amidst these days of easy and honourable Christi-
anity, ye find it so hard to be Christians, how will
it be when you come into the billows of mighty con-
flict ? And the quotation may be repeated : " If thou
hast run with the footmen, and they have wearied
thee, then how canst thou contend with horses ; and
if in the land of peace, wherein thou trustedst, they
wearied thee, tlieR lioio wilt thou do in the swellings
of Jordan?^''

Let such things bring us to a most serious con-
sideration of the temj)er of our religion. Those pro-
visions suit the calm which are utterly insufficient
in the temj)est. The religion of the martyrs, need
I say it, was a religion all in earnest. They died for it,
they died by it. It caused them to die ; but it caused
them to die rejoicing. Christ was their all. When
holy Poly carp was summoned to deny Christ, he re-
plied : " Eighty and six years have I served him, and
he hath done me no harm : how can I revile my
King, who hath saved me ?" When Eobert Glover, in
Queen Mary's reign, was preparing for his death, he
prayed all night long for strength and courage, and
seemed to find none, till on a sudden he was so re-
plenished with comfort and heavenly joys, that he
cried out to his friend Bernher, " Austin, He is come I
lie is come /" and went to the stake with the alacrity
of one going to the chief festival of life. Now, these
men were in earnest ; and theirs was an earnest
faith ; it was their very life : to them, to live was

364 CONSOLATION.

Christ; to die was gain. My brethren, how is it
with us ? I say not, are we ready for martyrdom,
for this would be no fair criterion ; but are we deep-
ly concerned with the things of God ? have they so
entered our souls as to be our very life ? Are we
pressing on, against difficulties and oppositions,
with a heart-felt conviction, that union with Christ
is every thing ? Are we awake to our great necessi-
ties, and to the solemn realities which are impending
over us ? Have we deliberately renounced this
world for our rest and portion, as a great bubble, and
laid hold on eternal life ? Is om* faith in any respect
" the substance of things hoped for, and the evidence
of things not seen V

Deeply consider, that the visible church has
tares among the wheat ; and that on the good foun-
dation of gold are built much wood, hay, stubble,
which shall not endure the flames. I see no way of
arriving at high confidence, but by casting ourselves
into reli2:ion as the all-absorbino: interest. Our half-
way Christianity, operative on Sabbaths and in
the sanctuary, is not the thing we need. Every suf-
fering of disciples in former days of conflict and
confession, ought to rebuke and stimulate us. God
has graciously given us prosperity, harvest, peace.
But that robe of consistency, which Satan cannot
wrest from us by the keen wind of adversity, we
sometimes let slip under the sunshine of worldly
favour. There are summer as well as winter dan-
gers. It is recorded of a certain man that on read-
ing the New Testament, he exclaimed, " Either this

THE MAETYES. 365

is not Cliiistianity or we are not Christians !" Tlie
same might be said of some among us. For what
signs do we read concerning primitive believers, and
the evidences of their faith ? They " had trial of
cruel mockings and scourgings, yea, moreover, of
bonds and imprisonments ; they were stoned, they
were sawn asunder ; were temj)ted, werei slain with
the sword ; they wandered about in sheepskins and
goatskins ; being destitute, afflicted, tormented ; they
wandered in deserts and mountains, and in dens and
caves of the earth." It is remarkable that the most
eminent piety has been nurtured under tribulations.
Baxter's Saint's Rest, in part, and Bunyan's Pilgrim's
Progress, and many of the seraphic letters of Samuel
Rutherford, were written in prison. Shall we, there-
fore, desire prisons, and pray for persecution? I
trow not. Let us be thankful for our prosperity ;
but let us mark its dangers. Sound, unbroken
health, honour among men, domestic comforts, great
wealth ; these are not usually the means of exalted
piety. Against the temptations of these we should
be vigilantly preparing ourselves. And to aid us,
we should be often contemplating the lives and
deaths of those who by faith and patience inherit
the promises.

The crowning act of the martyrs' Christianity
was their despising this mortal life, and deliberately
throwing it away for the sake of another. And
is this peculiar to martyrdom? What saith our
Lord ? If any man hate not his own life also, he
cannot be my disciple. The martyi^s gave up life

366 CONSOLATION.

rather tlian give up Christ. And can we hope to
compound for any thing less ? It is of the very es-
sence of all genuine religious experience, that Christ
is above all. We are not to count our own lives
dear to us. And this state of mind is to be attain-
ed only by higher measures of faith, and by keeping
the soul's eye intently fixed on the person of the
Lord Jesus, until we be ravished with his love, and
ready to die that we may be with him for ever.
But I must bring these observations to a close, espe-
cially when I reflect how many there are who not
only have not these eminent traits of piety, but have
no faith whatever ; and to whom all that can be said
on this subject must be matter of weariness, if not
of incredulity. Perhaps it may profit even them to
reflect, that the way to heaven is not without dif-
ficulties ; and that many shall seek to enter in, and
shall not be able. Among high professors, some
shall perish. Among true believers, some shall be
saved " as by fire." " And if the righteous scarcely
be saved, where shall the ungodly and the sinner
appear ?"

THE AGED BELIEVER CONSOLED BY
GOD'S PROMISE.

XVI.

HOLY Scripture takes cognizance of the various
circumstances and stages of man's life, and we
sliould do tlie like wken we use tlie pen for the con-
solation of Christ's suffering people. To the young
we often have to address ourselves in cautions fitted
to rebuke the sanguine excesses of hope, but to the
aged our task is more in the way of cheering, for
which the gospel makes ample provision. If their
number is small, their demand upon our sympathy
and love is not the less imperative. Besides the
claim which they make upon us as frequent suffer-
ers, they are repeatedly and earnestly commended
to our reverence in the word of God ; and any volume
of consolation would be strikingly defective from
which their case should be left out.

Length of days is a scrijDtural blessing, and was
eminently such under the Hebrew theocracy, where
earthly benefits were the perpetual type of spiritual
favours. As death was a penalty, so the shortening
of man's days was a token of God's anger towards
the race ; and under every dispensation the hoary
head is a crown of glory to the righteous. Lon-
gevity, whicli in the case of the wicked only aggra-
24

370 CONSOLATION.

vates sin, and its awful reckoning, affords to true Ibe-
lievers a longer term of useful service and lioly
example, increased proficiency in gifts and graces,
and a corresponding recompense. Old age has its
approj^riate beauty, no less tlian youth. To the eye
which can wisely discern there is a mature loveh-
ness in the " shock of corn that cometh in its season."
Thus we contemplate the kindly decline of the an-
cient patriarchs with a filial veneration, and in our
own circle turn with a healthful complacency from the
gayeties of inexjDerienced youth to the father and the
mother " whose ripe experience doth attain to some-
what of prophetic strain ;" so that I envy not him
who does not often love to draw near the sequestered
corner that is honoured by the chair of reverend
wisdom and graceful piety, where the wearied an-
cient or the cherished matron sits enthroned in the
affections of an observant filial group. Yet while
this period of life has its deserved honours, it has its
trials likewise.

Fii'st among the ills of old age is infirmity of
body. " The days of our years are threescore years
and ten, and if by reason of strength they be four-
score years, yet is their strength labour and sorrow."
Even if previous life has been exempt from bodily
pain and weakness, the season of decline is usually
visited with manifold diseases, some of which are
peculiar to old age. ' Burdens which were scarcely
felt in the mid-day pilgrimage, are apt to become
intolerable torments towards the evening shadows.
Scattered over the church and the world, there are

OLD AGE. 371

thousands of persons in their respective nooks of
seclusion, as much lost to society as if they were in
dens and caves of the earth. Their place in the
house of God has been filled by others, and the
church has long ceased to observe the vacancy
caused by their absence, except so far as some pastor
or pious friend seeks them out, to smooth their rude
descent into the grave. But each has his sorrows,
and needs his consolation.

The weakness and lassitude of old age are fami-
liar, yet these often take men by surprise. So re-
luctant are most to admit the mortifying approach
of these closing languors, that they need more than
the "three warnings" of the poet. The steps by
which age advances are often stealthy and imper-
ceptible. Gray hairs are scattered here and there,
and they know it not. The beauty of the counte-
nance is consumed, and gives places to wrinkles,
sunken features, a stooping frame and tottering
limbs. The dainties of the feast invite, but no longer
gratify. The senses become obtuse, and the sufferer
enters into the experience of Barzillai : " How long
have I to live, that I should go up with the king
unto Jerusalem? I am this day fourscore years
old ; and can I discern between good and evil ?
Can thy servant taste what I eat or what I drink ?
Can I hear any more the voice of singing men and
singing women ? Wherefore should thy servant be
yet a burden unto my lord the king ?" To such a
one the grasshopper is a burden, nay he is a burden

372 CONSOLATION.

unto himself. It is a condition in wHcli lie mani*
festly needs support.

Tlie absence of former companions belongs to
"tlie time of old age." Amidst their troops of
friends, the young think little of this ; but the longer
a man lives, the more does he outlive the associates
of his early days. And though Dr. Johnson wisely
advises men who advance in years to " keep their
friendships in repair," it is unquestionably true, that
the susceptibility for such attachments grows less
with the decline of life. The tree which has outlived
the forest stands in mournful solitude, and is lopped
of its branches, and exposed to storms. If these
pages fall under the notice of an aged reader, he
will readily assent to the truth of what is said, being
able with ease to number up all that remain of
those who shared his early joys. Childhood seems
far back in the distance; parents have been long
removed ; brothers, sisters, friends have gone before ;
perhaps, we must add poverty, widowhood, and
childless desolation.

The solitary condition of aged persons is aggra-
vated by the indisposition of the young to seek their
company ; so that we often find them constrained to
pass days of weariness and evenings of gloom. Ex-
cept where there is eager expectancy of some wealth
to be divided, the old man is left to sit alone, which
naturally leads to another trial.

The neglect of society is 'keenly felt in "the
time of old age." We are fond of saying, that old
age is honourable; but the writer has lived long

OLD AGE. 3*73

enougli to observe tliat in point of fact it receives
little honour, excej^t for certain adventitious accom-
paniments. The famous story of Plutarch concern-
ing tlie Athenians and the Spartans has its full appli-
cation here. 'No man loves to find himself a super-
fluity. In America we are more Athenian than
Spartan in our treatment of the aged. Boys soon
become men among us ; men soon grow old ; old men
are soon forgotten. Venerable jDersons are some-
times honoured for their wealth — such is our traffick-
ing, mammon-serving, ignoble ^dew of things — or for
their place or power, but how seldom for their
■^ years ! The stripling, with his " gold ring and
^ goodly apparel," shall have more to show respect to
his " gay clothing," and to say, " sit thou here in a
good place," than the poor man of hoary hairs. It
is a serious question whether neglect of superiors in
general is not a national sin. Carrying to extrava-
gance our notions of equality, we can brook no su-
perior, and will own no master. Hence we have
come to hear lads manifesting their spirit by giving
to father or mother, whom they should reverence
next to God, appellations of jocose familiarity or dis-
respect. Now he who does not honour his parents
will honour no one else, exceipt to eat of his morsel.
The world's neglect is an ingredient in many a
cup of old age. The rich may not know it ; but the
rich are not all the world, nor, taken as a class, the
best part of it; and if all their claims to honour are
I founded on revenue, they are poor indeed. There
i is many a good man, far gone in the vale of years,

37 4 CONSOLATION.

who feels the saddening change from the days when
all hastened to do him reverence.

Decay of natural spirits belongs to "the time
of old age." The outworn traveller says of these
days, " I have no pleasure in them." " The daugh-
ters of music are brought low." This period of life
is proverbially one of caution; and caution easily
lapses into timidity. The old man pauses at the
leap which twenty years ago he would have taken
at a bound. It is the habit of his life to forecast
the future, if not to forebode. Experience has
taught him to see dangers on every hand. But be-
sides this, weakness of body brings with it depres-
sion and sadness. The aged are solitary even in the
thronged assembly. They muse and pine. There
is much in the past to make them thoughtful : great
experience has opened to them many sources of sor-
row, all unknown to the gay circle around them ;
and what can they expect for the morrow ? Shut,
out from active employment, or slow to learn that
their competency is lessened, they feel their isola-
tion. If an irritable frame and sensitive tempera-
ment superadd to these things irascibility, and peev-
ishness, how greatly are the ills increased ! All
this makes it the more rare and signal, when we be-
hold a contented and cheerful old age ; and, through
God's infinite grace, and the influence of his Holy
Spirit, we are sometimes called to this edifying and
delightful spectacle.

The approach of eternity confers solemnity on
"the time of old age." This single consideration is

OLD AGE. 3 '7 5

sufficient to overshadow tlie soul with a solemnity
unknown before ; and tliougli we sometimes find
trifiers who are advanced in life, the best and wisest
are made serious and considerate. Yet facts do not
justify the assertion, that the bare increase of years
does any thing towards the conversion of the sinner.
The youthful reader should take warning, when he
sees the aged dying on every side, and others with
hoary hairs standing around their graves uncon-
cerned. Nevertheless some truly lay this to heart,
and to these it is a trial. It is the dreadful case of
some to be given up to despairing thoughts on the
approach of death.

But it is unnecessary to enumerate all the parti-
culars which go to make up the burden of old age :
we turn with more alacrity to the consolations
which are afforded by the word of God.

There is a sentence of the Psalmist which points
out the direction in which he who is laden with
years may look for cheering. It is that exclama-
tion in the seventy-first Psalm, " Cast me not off in
the time of old age, forsake me not when my
strengtli faileth." Though a prayer, it is also a
promise. For when God himself dictates a peti
tion, and so to speak puts it into our mouths, it as-
sures us that what he thus prompts us to ask, he is
ready to bestow. These words may therefore be con-
sidered as revealing the basis of comfort and support
offered to an ao:ed Christian. It is as thouo^h he
said, Man may cast me oft'; society may cast me off;
friends, helpers, even children may abandon me ; but

SY6 CONSOLATION.

O my God, cast not Tliou me off, in the time of old
age ! It is a lawful, an urgent, a comprehensive
prayer, and may be studied in its several meanings,
with edification.

" Leave me not to helpless imbecility !" It is
permitted to deprecate extreme poverty. We are
taught to pray, " Give us this day our daily bread."
The old disciple is not forbidden to ask under sub-
mission to God's holy will, that he may be exempted
from wasting languors and decrepitude. But sub-
mission has here a large part to perform. As we
resign to the decision of our faithful Creator the
time and manner of our death, so must we leave
ourselves implicitly in his hands, as to the whole
colour of our latter days. Competence and jDOverty
are at his disposal. Nevertheless it is thus recorded
by one who knew, " I have been young and now
am old, yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken,
nor his seed begging bread." And if any may ap-
propriate the cheering words, the aged may surely
so do : " Be content with such things as ye have,
for He hath said, I will never leave thee nor forsake
thee ;" words which seem written to be a heavenly
answer to this very petition of the Psalmist. The
whole connection, however, shows, that the servant
of God may be sometimes reduced to straits and ap-
prehensions, in which his faith is sorely tried, and
in which he can look to none but God. Yet we
have reason to encourage every believer, whose old
age is encompassed with cares about worldly subsist-
ence, to stay himself on the Lord his Preserver.

OLD AGE. S11

The prayer further implies, " Be tliou a friend
to me under the loss of friends." There is a wide
scope of application in those words : " When my
father and mother forsake me, then the Lord will
take me up." The degree of comfort which this con-
sideration brings to any individual, will be in i3ro-
portion to the reality of his previous communion with
God. He who has made God his friend, and has
humbly and lovingly walked with him during a life-
time, is prejDared to endure with equanimity the loss
of friends. In days of prosperity, when his children
were around him, and his table was encircled with
guests, he already looked to God as his covenant
friend and supporter; how much more when his
windows are darkened, and the coals have died out
upon his hearth. He has learned before this great
trial came, to turn to God as the enlightener of his
solitary way; and the portion of his soul. Like
Abraham, he has, early in his pilgrimage, heard a
voice saying, " Fear not ; I am thy shield, and thy
exceeding great reward." Now, therefore, when he
begins to find himself alone in the world, he is be-
yond expression thankful that he has not this divine
acquaintanceship to seek. He is sure that the Lord
has not brought him thus far to make him a laugh-
ing-stock to his soul's enemies. God will help him,
and that right early. Many are the aged saints
who can join in the exultation, " So that we may
boldly say. The Lord, is my helper, and I will not fear
what man shall do unto me."

Suppose the worst case, even that of desolating

378 co:n-solation-.

bereavement and complete insulation : an aged be-
liever left without partner, cliild, or relative on
earth ; if lie has made God his friend, he can still
say, " My soul, wait thou only upon God, for my
expectation is from him." And God is wont to an-
swer the prayer of the desolate by stirring up the
tender mercies of man. Friends are raised wp for
the forlorn and sinking one. This is a considera-
tion which ought to lead pious and charitable per-
sons in our churches to turn their attention to the
aged. Yery often, it is not so much temporal aid
which they require, as the smile of recognition, the
light of a friendly countenance, the voice of cheer-
ing, the hand that lifts the latch of the solitary
chamber, the Christian conference, and the fellow-
ship of prayer. Let the reader ask himself whe-
ther this duty has not been neglected, and whether
there is not, even within his own communion and
neighbourhood, some ancient servant of God to
whom he might render the offices of a son or a
brother. But by whatever means it may be accom-
plished, the Lord will not allow his aged servants
to sink under their bereavements.

He who prays, " Cast me not off," furthermore
asks thus, " Cheer me by thy presence, under the
neglects of men." ISTone have greater need than the
aged to concentrate their regards on the honour
which Cometh from God ; for the attentions and
complimentary tributes of society are usually seen to
decrease as age advances. The world casts off its
old servants, but God does not cast them off. A

OLD AGE. 379

man wlio has set great value on tlie caresses and
adulation of the peojDle during his middle life, is in a
fair way to see the matter in its true light when he
falls into decay. Then it is that he finds his flatter-
ers vanishing, like birds of passage which seek more
sunny climes. In such circumstances it is an invalu-
able blessing to have the heart fixed on God. His
appi'oval and praise have a heavenly quality about
them which fills and satisfies the soul.

The prayer of the aged imports, moreover, this,
" Sustain my sinking spirits by the hopes of thy gos-
pel and the ministrations of thy grace." This is pos-
sible, though it is against nature. We have seen
such trophies of grace. Especially could I name an
aged disciple, whose latter days were by far his
best, even in regard to this point. As years advanc-
ed, he became less restless and susceptible under
the vexations of life; his temper was more even,
his spirits more cheerful, and his benignant smile
more abiding. If the reader will give himself the
pains to make a survey, he will find numerous in-
stances of this kind among the churches. And such
a one is more lovely then in the sight of God than
ever amidst the florid exuberance of youthful prom-
ise ; more wise, more pure, more holy, more trancjuil,
more benignly humble. Let the young be invited
to seek the company of such ; the Isaacs, Israels, and
Johns of our churclr. Let them be souo:ht for as
hid treasure, though the quest may take us among
the humblest of society. Those of us wlio exercise
the ministerial profession have been taught that some

380 OONSOLATIOIT.

of the most instructive and most lovely objects to a
Christian eye are concealed in garrets, cellars, and
beds of suffering. A poor, frivolous, time-serving,
mercenaiy, contemptible world, judges othermse ;\
but wlien their money perishes with them, true ho-
liness and happiness shall survive the shock of death,
and go into eternity. The sun shines on nothing
more glorious than a truly ripe believer waiting to
be gathered into the garner of the Lord. To com-
prehend the greatness of such proficiency we must
know its hinderances. There are many characters
which maintain their consistency well during seasons
of prosperity, but which would be sadly shaken by
the stormy weather of old age.

The aged man's prayer includes, finally, " Cast
me not off on the approach of death." Does the
reader, peradventure, feel in his members the signs
of declining years ? Then let him consider that old
age is the begimiiiig of death. It is true death may
greatly anticipate old age ; but he that is old is as-
suredly on the brink of death. Natural feare hover
about the most careless in regard to this impending
catastrophe. The relief which most aged sinners have
is by the method of diversion, or the turning away
of the mind from the revolting object. But this is
a miserable resort, and a few spasms or pangs are
sufficient to shake a sturdy and impenitent soul
out of this refuge of hes. Let the truth be told ;
there is no real consolation under feai^ of death but
in Grod. " The peace of God which passeth all un-
derstanding" can make an mfii-m and threatened

OLD AGE. 381

old man go doTVTi firmly into the valley. Suppose
God should, after all, cast off his servant in the time
of old a^re ! It is a sui^mise which sometimes daiis
across the soul. But no, he will not. " Even to old
age am I he, and to hoary hairs will I carry you."
The dictation of such a prayer is equal to a promise
that it shall be answered.

We have looked with wonder and delight on an
aged discij)le thus waiting till his change come. He
is not exempt from the infirmities and pains which
beset this season of life ; but his mind is drawn away
from them to ^x itself on the "exceeding and eter-
nal weight of glory." He knows not at what mo-
ment his summons may come, but he knows whom
he has believed, and is persuaded that he is able to
keep the great deposit until that day. Christian
hope does not allow him to give way under the
disquietudes of life. It is his endeavour to show,
by the uniformity of his cheerfulness, that rehgion
can desjDoil even old age of its terrors. Among
younger Chi'istians he sits as a patriarch who has
experienced all the diversities of the disciple's lot ;
has discovered the emptiness of the w^orld, and has
made what remains of the present life a meditation
of the life to come. His great business, therefore, is
to prepare for eternity. But this he does without
perturbation or servile di^ead. Long ago he has
cast his burden on the Lord, and ventured his ever-
lasting hopes on tlie promise of mercy in Christ
Jesus ; and having been sealed with that blessed
Spirit of promise, he looks into the future with a

382 CONSOLATION.

confidence founded on di\ane authoiity ; liaving a de-
sii^e to depart and be T\dtli Christ. Sucli a condi-
tion as tills is among tlie happiest on earth ; and it
throws a radiance of commendation over the gospel
which produces it. The Lord does not forsake his
people. In those emergencies of hfe in which their
strength is most tried, he may be supposed to regard
them with peculiar tenderness. And at length he
abolishes death, and admits them to the glories of
the eternal state.

Where Christian graces are vigorous, the aged
disciple will be much in meditation of that eternal
world which he is approaching. Thither the majo-
rity of the brethren whom he has kno^Ti here have
entered before him. Every bodily pang and weak-
ness suggests to him by contrast the blessed exemp-
tions and perfect delights of a state where God shall
wipe all tears from the eyes. At the resurrection,
the soul and body shall be reunited ; and the body
which shall be raised will have no frailties or sus-
ceptibilities of distress. It is comfort for the aged
saint, aching with the weariness of a hard pilgrim-
age, to muse on the day when his body shall be
newly fitted for the service of the soul, and when he
shall emerge into the balmy springtide of perpetual
youth. He knows that he shall exchange the soli-
tude and neglect of a world where he has long felt
himself a stra,nger, for the associations of that com-
munion to which the wise, and holy, and blessed of
all nations, churches, and dispensations have been
adding themselves for ages. Groaning under the

0L]5 AGE. 383

consciousness of imperfection in his best services, lie
lights up with rapture at the thought of a Avorld
where he shall glorify God without weariness, inter-
mission, or defect. Remembering the clouds and
darkness of his sad journey, he long's for the per-
fect light in which he shall see face to face, and
know even as also he is known. This hope, which
brightens as graces become mature, may be consid-
ered the prime consolation of old age. Where it is
possessed in large measure, it is a full indemnity for
losses and an antidote to the poisonous influences of
this mortal condition.

Consolation in old age is much promoted by a
thankful review of God's providence as to the past.
This appears to be included in that remarkable pro-
mise, Isaiah 46 : 4 ; "I have made and I will bear."
He that made us and preserves us, will continue to
care for us. God will not suffer those on whom he
has expended so much to fail at the last. The fact,
that the believer has already passed through so
many toils and dangers unhurt, affords good reason
to hope that he shall be carried through all, even
the last and worst.

The eye of the aged pilgrim takes in, from his
eminence of observation and retrospect, a great ex-
tent of way which he has traversed. In this he
recalls many a spot signalized by its Ebenezer, and
testifying to the faithfulness of God. This principle
of consolation is the very one which leads the sacred
writers to such frequent recapitulations of Israel's
way through the wilderness; Moses also recounts

384 CONSOLATION.

the wliole, just on tlie verge of the promised land.
This is our assurance that God will not cast oif in
the time of old age, that he has clung to his people
for their help in all preceding times.

If now, as can scarcely be denied, there are pro-
fessing Christians, advanced in years, and, of course,
approaching their eternal abode, who have none of
this peace ; who feel the burdens of life more keenly
with every new step into the last valley, who repine
at theii' lot, indulge the petulance of continual com-
plaint, and shudder at their inevitable and impending
change ; w^hat shall we say, but that they have failed
to take the blessings w^hich are made over in the
covenant gift ? They have not from the heart ut-
tered that prayer of the Psalmist which we have
been consirdering. From which we learn this mo-
mentous lesson, that to be happy in old age, we
must regard religion as the one thing needful ; not
merely as important, but as all-imjDortant ; that
" principal thing," without which all else is vanity
and vexation of spirit. For in what other direction
can the aged look for comfort ? What can this
world offer them? They have tasted every cup,
and having drunk each to the dregs, have found it
first foam and then bitterness. They have but a
few days, possibly not a single day, to live. Time
is hurrying them with dreadful rapidity into the
presence of their Judge. Unless they have sought
his kingdom and righteousness first, and above all ;
unless they have laid up their treasure and their
hearts in heaven, they are absolutely cut off from

OLD AGE. 385

every source of rational enjoyment. The hand
upon the awful dial-plate of life points at midnight,
and presently comes the ftital stroke. Let none
suppose that a mere titular standing in Christ's
church, or a name among professing Christians, af-
fords a basis for hope amidst the despondencies of
age. Generally, those who possess the serene en-
joyments of which w^e have spoken, are such as be-
gan to make God's service theii^ great concern
many yeai^s ago, and now, in the autumn of their
days, are reaping the golden ears, agreeably to the
sowing of an eai'lier ex]3erience. And if these lines
should meet the eye of any to w^hom such a prepa-
ration is all unknown, he should lay down the book
and prepare to meet his God.

One of the greatest consolations of old age is to
spend what remains of life in honouring God. Da-
vid connects this with one of his pathetic prayers :
" Now also, when I am old and grey-headed, O God
forsake me not, until I have shown thy strength
unto this generation, and thy power to every one
that is to come." How remarkably this was accom-
plished in his latter days we know very well. Ec-
clesiastical history relates of the apostle John, that
when for very age he was unable any longer to
preach the word, he used to be carried into the
Christian assembly, where the most he could utter
was, " Little children, love one another !" The
modern church affords numerous instances of an-
cient believers, who " still bring forth fruit in old
age." Younger disciples properly look up to them
25

386 CONSOLATION.

as advisers, and endeavour to j)rofit by their long
experience. Tlieir very jDatience and tranquillity,
while they wait for their Lord, is edifying to the
church. Their words fall on the ear with peculiar
weight from the authoiity of mature wisdom ; and
it is an evil day, in church or state, when any for-
sake " the counsel of the old men."" For these rea-
sons, aged Christians are not lightly to suppose that
their work is done, because they are shut out from
pubhc service. It may be that God is more glori-
fied by the quiet graces of their eventide, than by
their most strenuous exertions while bearing the
burden and heat of the day.

In the wonderful ordering of the dispensation of
grace, it is observed, that although the suscepti-
bility of new impressions from objects of sense, and
the pleasure taken in passing events of a worldly
nature, are very much abated by the progress of
years, it is not so in regard to spiritual enjoyments ;
the feeble and departing servant of God is still alive
to the things of the kingdom. Memory, imagination,
even the perceptive powers may be seriously im-
paii'ed, but sensibility to the truths of the gospel
remains in vigour ; the name of Jesus is still delight-
ful, and the coming glory of the kingdom still
cheers the soul. For such a blessed experience,
however, there must have been a long preparation,
by daily communion with God, which affords an
inducement at once to early piety, and consistent
walking with Christ, throughout the years of

*1 Kings 12: 8.

OLD AGE. SSI

strength. We cannot err in supposing that the Lord
of such a servant looks clown upon him with pecu-
liar complacency in these days of bodily weakness
hut spiritual ripening. He may be likened to the
just and devout Simeon, who took the infant Jesus
up in his arms, and said, " Lord, now lettest thou
thy servant depart in peace." He knows that his
salvation is nearer than when he believed. As one
long in bondage looks out wistfully for deliverance, so
he lifts u]3 his head, because his redemption draweth
nigh. Weaned in some good measure from the
w^orld, and dead to its appetites and pleasures, he
has his conversation, or citizenship, in heaven, from
whence also he looks for the Lord Jesus, who will
change his vile body, that it may be fashioned like
unto his glorious body ; hearkening for the foot-
steps of his beloved Master, who is coming to trans-
port him to himself, he patiently waits till his
change come. These are blessed fruits of grace,
enjoyed at a period when the world has nothing to
offer to its outworn devotees. It is the privilege of
aged Christians to expect these comforts, which are
the more satisfying, as being altogether independent
of all outward circumstances ; they may be pos-
sessed, nay they have been ten thousand times pos-
sessed, by the poor, the infirm, the diseased, the
deaf, the blind ; the united voice of hope and exult-
ation, which rises from the tabernacles of aged pil-
grims is, " For this God is our God for ever and ever,
he will be our guide even unto death."*

* Psalm 48: 14.

OONSOLATION IN REGARD TO THE
SAINTS DEPARTED.

XVII.

WHEN we inspect a series of ancient Christian
monuments, as for example in Rome; or, in
default of this, when we examine those collections
of antiquaries in which the inscriptions of these
monuments are exactly edited, we are struck with a
remarkable change of expression which has taken
place during the lapse of ages. The later epitaphs,
as is well known, frequently contain the words now
of established usage among Romanists, " Requiescai
IN PACE," (May he rest in peace !) But if we trace
the series back to a more remote and purer anti-
quity, we find the primitive expression to be, " Re-
QuiEsciT IN PACE," (^He dotJi rest in peace.) A dif-
ference which is startling, suggestive, and full of
argument. Primitive Christianity believed the de-
parted to be already in repose. And we can, by
means of authentic marbles, almost lay the finger on
the point of time at which the indicatory and asser-
tory phrase, He rests, was transmuted into the cor-
rupt precatory formula, 3 fay lie rest !

AYe need consolation both when we lay beloved
bodies of friends or brethren in the grave, and when
we shudder on the brink of our own dissolution. In

392 CONSOLATION.

regard to both, we rest with complete repose of soul
on the declaration of the Word, that believers " sleep
in Jesus."

Before proceeding to consider this doctrine in its
positive meaning, we find it necessary to remove the
grounds of two portentous errors ; one of which is
the familiar tenet of popery, and the other a kindred
opinion, that the human spirit lies unconscious from
death till resurrection.

There is. a communion in glory, which renewed ^
souls have with Christ their head, partly in this
world and partly in the next. Death is the point of
transition between these two portions of the new
life. They are very unequal. The first is troublous,
blemished, changeful, and brief; the second is fixed,
pure, glorious, and eternal. Yet two strange things
are true resiDecting our judgment of the two. First,
we are most taken up, in thought and afiPection, by ,
that which is inferior, short, and transient ; and,
secondly, the point at which we pass from one to the
other, is that which of all things we most dread.
We are about to contemplate this change in one of
its aspects, as viewed by the believer, for his encou-
rao:ement amidst the afiiictions of life. That which
buoys up his soul amidst toils and privations, is
the blessed truth, which causes him to count afiiic-
tion nothing, in comparison with the " far more ex-
ceeding and eternal weight of glory."

The doctrine which we are called to contemplate
is, that when the soul leaves the body it passes at
once to Christ, to perfection, and to heaven, thus to

THE SLEEP OF THE DEAD. 393

abide in peace and glory till tlie resurrection The
body, we admit, is left. The sentence goes into exe-
cution : unto dust shalt thou return. After our skin,
worms shall destroy this body. It has been the
beloved companion and useful instrument ; but now
it passes to dissolution. The remains of those whom
we love are sacred. We have the best authority
for confiding them to the faithful tomb, with due
solemnity and tenderness. But we are not left to
the cheerless dogma, that when corruption has done
its work, we shall behold them no more ; and that
the parent, the sister, or the son, whom we have laid
in the earth, shall never again be known in the
body, but have shared the lot of beasts. The gos-
23el reveals a blessed hope, which heathenism could
not imagine, and which the dreams of enthusiasts
and the cavils of atheists cannot take away. The
bodies of Christ's brethren do rest in their graves
till the resurrection. That union, whereby we are
members of his body, of his flesh, and of his bones,
still endures. They are still his; and from his
heavenly throne he watches over them. They are
beautifully said to be asleep in him. " For if we
believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them
also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him."
1 Thes. 4 : 14. It is a reviving hope for those who
expect soon to lay aside the flesh, and a consolation
for any who have followed their friends to their
luirial. Though the body is left, it is not for-
saken.

But when the soul leaves the body, it passes im-

394 CONSOLATION.

mediately to Clirist. Is this a vain speculation ?
Can it be a thing of indifference, whether at my last
breath I enter at once to glory, or plunge into some
unknown condition of suspense or pain ? Would it
not overcloud our dying moment, to have this ques-
tion unanswered ? Your hearts reply, that the in-
vestiscation is reasonable : and it is answered in the
Word. He who is absent from the body is present
with the Lord. The teaching of Scripture is so ex-
press on this point, that enlargement would be un-
necessary, if it had not been for erroneous teachers,
who have endeavoured to rob the saints of this
part of their inheritance, and to postpone the begin-
ning of their joys. These errors may be reduced
to two, which it will be profitable to hold up in
contrast with the divine verity.

I. When Christianity began to grow corrupt,, and'
the ministers of Christ assumed to be j)riests, a dog-
ma was privily brought in, plainly heathen in its
source, that souls which are im23erfect, instead of
entering heaven, enter some intermediate state of
further probation, where they are tried with fire,
punished for their sins, and rendered fit for heaven.
This is known by the invented name of Purgatory.
While it has not a single passage of Scri23ture even
speciously in its behalf, it has been a mine of wealth
■ to the hierarchy. It has brought in its train the long
retinue of prayers and masses for the dead, indul-
gences, rich oblations, testamentary gifts, and fresh
subjugation to Romish tyranny. In upholding their
doctrine, the Papists have gone so far as to affirm,

THE SLEEP OF THE DEAD. 395

that the patriarchs and other Old Testament saints
were not received into heaven at their death, but
were retained in what tbey called the Limbus of the
Fathers ; the word meaning in Latin the exterior
border of a flowing robe or mantle. Though this is
distinct in their mythology from Purgatory, the
same principles apply to both. How the imagina-
tions of religionists may be inflamed by such teach-
ings, we may learn from the poetic but awful pic-
tures of the great Italian, Dante, who by his potent
^^'aud conjures before our horror-stricken fancy blind-
ness, tears, lamentations, blood, and fire. Travellers
in Italy are too well acquamted with the horrible
paintings and more horrible harangues, whereby an
alius is begged from the superstitious, for the poor
souls in Purgatory. Turning from these ravings to
the truth, we find the Bible teaching that the souls
of the patriarchs and other saints who have de-
parted have passed immediately into a state of hap-
piness. This is proved irrefragably by the argument
of our Lord against the Sadducees. Moses, says
he, calleth the Lord "the God of Abraham, and the
God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. For he is not a
God of the dead, but of the living ; for all hve unto
him." Luke 20 : 38. It is proved by the history of
the rich man and Lazarus. Luke 16 : 19. You re-
meml^er the case ; it is never said to be a parable ;
and if a parable, it teaches truth. The beggar died,
and was carried l:>y angels — not into purgatory, not
into the limhus patriim — Init into Abraham's bosom,
that is, into the joy of Abraham's God. The rich

396 CONSOLATIOIT.

man also died, and was buried, and (not in purgatory,
but) in hell lie lifted up his eyes, being in torments.
This is further proved by the words of our dying
Saviour to the thief on the cross : " This day shalt
thou be with me in Paradise." I am almost ashamed
to rehearse the quibbles by which this passage is
evaded. It is said, "for example, to mean, " I this
day say unto thee, thou shalt ;" a violent perversion
of the words, which is not favoured by a single an-
cient version, and which, robbing our Lord's words
of all their emphasis, represent him as uttering the
most useless declaration. His gracious reply was
occasioned by the preceding request of the dying
malefactor, '' Lord, remember me when thou comest
into thy kingdom !" It is said, again, that by Para-
dise Christ means the intermediate place of the pa-
triarchs. But is it not the uniform method of
Scripture, by Paradise, to set forth the highest hea-
ven ? When (2 Cor. 12 : 4) Paul tells us of "one
caught up to the third heaven," he instantly adds,
interpreting himself, " How that he was caught up
into paradise." In the Apocalyptic message to Ej^he-
sus (2:7) it is said to the victor : " To him that over-
cometh will I give to eat of the tree of life, which
is in the midst of the paradise of God." Now this is
plainly parallel with the promises to the other victors,
as (v. 10) "I will give thee a crown of life," (v. 28)
"I will give him the morning-star ;" (3 : 12) " I will
make him a pillar of the temple of my God, and he
shall go no more out." This is proved, also, by the
hopes which cheered the ancients amidst long jour-

THE SLEEP OF THE DEAD. 39T

neyings and toils, of a speedy admission to rest, of a
city having foundations, and of respite after death.
The attempted proof of a purgatorial state from the
Scriptures is lamentably defective. The very diffi-
cult place in Pet. 3 : 19, concerning Christ's preach-
ing to spirits in prison, is quite as difficult for our
adversaries who urge it. To discuss it at length
would exhaust modern j)atience: suffice it to say,
" The meaning of the text appears to be, that the
Spirit of Christ influenced Noah, who was a
'preacher of righteousness,' to warn the unhappy
men, whose S23irits were then, and still are, in prison,
of the danger which was so near them, while
the ark was preparing. Now, to build such a mo-
mentous doctrine as that of purgatory on a passage
admitting of this construction, and on one or two
others, still more violently tortured for the purjDOse,
shows the total want of a solid foundation for the
superstructure which is erected. It may also be
added, that even the passages which are brought
from the apocryjDhal writings, which are not canoni-
cal Scripture, do not warrant this doctrine, as it
is held and taught by the Church of Rome." And
let us thank God that it is so ; and that we have no
Christian reason (when we stand beside a dying-
friend) to supjDose that his departing spirit is about
to enter penal fires, and the sufferings of his agony
to be exchanged for ages, years, or even days, of
still heavier torment ; no reason (on our own bed
of death) to shudder at the prospect of horrible in-

398 CONSOLATION.

carceration and fresli conflicts. No, my bretliren,
" the last enemy that shall be destroyed is death."

II. Leading this, there is another error, which
has j)i'6vailed among. Romanizing Protestants, a
class unhappily increasing day by day. It is equally
a denial of our doctrine, for it maintains that the
soul sleej^s with the body, from death to the resur-
rection. Such sleep of the soul is an anti-scriptural
dream. There is no evidence that the soul ever
ceases to think, or that it can so cease, without losing
its identity, and ceasing to be a soul. There is no
proof, that, the moment after death, the soul shall
not exert an unwonted elasticity ; or that the body,
though an instrument here, is a necessary instru-
ment. That could scarcely be denominated an ever-
lasting life, w^hich should be subject to so direful an
interruption. But the Scriptures leave us no doubt.
The passages already cited, are here in point. The
crucified thief passed into paradise. Abraham, Isaac,
and Jacob (not yet risen), are yet alive, and live
unto God. Such is the condition of all the blessed,
of whom Paul, says (Heb. 12 : 23), "Ye are come,"
ye are now come, " to the spirits of just men made
perfect." Ancient prophecy foresaw the same. " He
shall enter into peace ; they shall rest in their, beds,
each one walking in his uprightness." Is. 5Y : 2.
The body rests: the soul walks in uprightness.
When Paul wrote to the Philij^pians, he felt that
to die was gain. He knew not which to choose ;
* and was in a strait betwixt two ; which could not
have been, if the choice had been between labour

THE SLEEP OF THE DEAD. 399

and unconsciousness : " having a desire to depart,
and to be with Christ ;" to be with Christ ! an ex-
pression, which undoubtedly means more, than rest
in sleep, or even joy beyond the resurrection. No,
he could say with David (73 : 24), " Thou shalt
guide me with thy counsel, and afterwards receive
me to glory." And when he felt the frailties of the
present state, and was warned of sj^eedy dissolution,
he could look beyond the breaking up of the exist-
ing fabric, to the escape into an abiding city. " For
we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle
were dissolved, we have a building of God, a house
not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." He
longs " to be clothed with the house from heaven."
He exults in the thought (5 : 3) that he " shall not
be found naked." More strikingly he tells what
shall immediately supervene on death (v. 4) : mor-
tality shall be swallowed up of life ! He groans,
that '^' being at home in the body," he is " absent
from the Lord." And inasmuch as our whole ques-
tion with adversaries is concerning the state of the
soul when unloosed from the body ; and inasmuch
as they affirm that this is a state of unconsciousness,
we adduce the apostle as a triumphant witness,
when he exclaims, " We are confident and willing
rather to be absent from the body and present with
the Lord." Unless, therefore, these terms can be
shown to import an unconscious slumber until the
final trump, we may regard the doctrine as estab-
lished, that when the soul leaves the body it passes
to a heaven of enjoyment.

400 CONSOLATION.

And tlie doctrine is most reasonable. The term
of trial and of suffering is over : it is to be expect-
ed that the time of joy should begin. The case of
each soul being, as all Protestant Christianity con-
fesses, unchangeably settled, it is proper that the re-
ward should ensue ; and that the last pang should
be followed, not by the stupor of centuries, but by
the garden of pleasures : that Paul, weary of labour,
might hope, when absent from the body, not to be
happy after four or five thousand years, but to be
" present with the Lord." It is consistent with the
love, the intercession, and the kingly power of Him
who is at the right hand of God, and whose longing
is, that those whom the Father hath given him may
be with him, to behold his glory. It agrees with
the spirit of the holy angels, those loving ones, who
are " all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for
them who shall be heirs of salvation," who hover
about dying beds with folded hands, and who spread
their seraphic wings to caiTy even a Lazarus into
Abraham's bosom. It is beautifully accordant with
the doctrine, that the human soul is entirely inde-
pendent in its actings on its present companion, and
ma;y exist without it in an unembodied state.

Contemplate the escape ! It is a passing to per-
fection. In the present life, we acknowledge ^that
sanctification is incomplete. But now the trial is at
an end. " Then shall I be satisfied, when I awake
with thy likeness." There is no long slumber be-
tween the race and the crown. The passage is
short. To be dismissed from earth, from temptation.

THE SLEEP OF THE DEAD. 401

from passion, from tlie body, and from sin, is to be ad-
mitted into tliat greater but invisible world, npon the
verge of which we are continually living. It is to
emerge from time into eternity. It is to close the
outward eye as needless, to lose sight of all its ob-
jects, and to open the inward eye upon the world of
spirits. It is to say farewell to a group of weeping
friends, and bid welcome to the multitude of ran-
somed souls. It is to leave all care, and pain, and
uncertainty, and sin for ever behind us.

It is also a passing into glory. God is there !
He who is every where present, unseen, is there
present to the lively apprehension of the redeemed.
Christ is there ! And the longing soul finds itself
in his embrace. The breaking up of the tabernacle
sometimes reveals glimpses of this glory, even here.

The soul's poor cottage, shattered and decayed,
Lets m new hght through chinks that time has made.

The conflict has ended. How else can we explain
the words, " Death is swallowed up in victory V^
Rest, indeed, there is, but rest in Christ's bosom of
love, and on his throne of glory. Heaven is ready
for them, and, by grace, they are ready for heaven.
Contemplate the change as immediate. God has
granted this blessed hope to his dying child. He
does not summon him away to a useless inaction of
ages, but to the vision of himself, to be with him in
paradise, to be present with the Lord. Heartily do
we acknowledge that tliere are many expressions of
Scripture which show that the reward of the right-
26

402 CONSOLATION.

eous is not complete until the re-union of soul and
body at tlie general resurrection. But tlie interval
is not only painless, but is conscious, intelligent, and
joyful. It is short, when measured on the great
scale of heaven. These separate souls are even now
beloved ; joined to Christ ; recipients of his Spirit ;
bringiug forth fruit; sitting down already with
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, who live unto that God
who is the God not of the dead but of the living.
And when the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall
be raised, the triumph shall be consummate. We
may well consent, my bi^ethren, to leave these per-
ishing bodies in the grave, with such an expectation
for the soul. The dust is sacred, being still united
to Christ. I am persuaded that not even death
(Rom. 8 : B8) " shall be able to separate us from
the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord."
The grave is sacred ; it is perfumed by the merits
of him who lay three days and three nights within
its vaults. Those expectant remains are no longer
the subjects of disease, weariness, and pain. " The
sting of death is sin," and it is no more. The doc-
trine of the resurrection must be a separate topic;
but even here, we must say, that disembodied spirits
wait " for the adoption, to wit, the redemption of
the body." And if they cast a glance at the ashes
of their tomb, they do it in remembrance of Him who
has " become the first fruits of them that slept ;" and
in lively hope of the hour when " that which is sown
in dishonour shall be raised in glory."

We cannot follow the departing spirit ; the flight

1

THE SLEEP OF THE DEAD. 403

is too O'apid, and it is into a world all unseen. Yet
as we stand around the breathless, cold, and stijBfened
corpse, the analogy of faith suggests a shadow of
what may be the condition of the ransomed soul.
The snare is broken, and it is escaped ! The fetters
have been stricken off at a blow. How vast the
transition ! How rapidly is the earth, with all its
scenes, left behind ! We may justly suppose, that
the blessed spirit finds itself surrounded by the
instant presence of God ; yet (as his unveiled glory
would be insufferable) by the presence of God
revealed in Christ. Infinite love can and will save
the poor, trembling, shrinking soul, newly come into
the sublimities of a strange world, from the shock
of a surprise, which otherwise would astound or
annihilate, and so hold back the face of that throne,
and so spread a cloud over it, and so mitigate its
splendours, that the frail creature, born into an un-
tried state, shall be able to bear it. There will
indeed be the sur2:)rise of discovery, and the shock
of ecstasy, but he wlio hid Moses in the cleft of the
rock, and spake to Elijah in the still small voice, will
doubtless address his ransomed one in the gentlest
whisper of redeeming love. Throughout a weari-
some lifetime the cry of the church has been, " We
would see Jesus !" now the wish is gratified, now
the vail is withdrawn, now the separate spii'it is
present with the Lord. The prayers of a lifetime
are answered, and the object of a life-long affection
is embraced. And O, what an escape and tran-
sition, from dying anguish to a throne ! How shall

404 CONSOLATION.

we dare to give utterance to sentiments, wliicli here
we can scarcely imagine !

" And is this heav'n? and am I there ?

How short the road ! how swift the flight I
I am all life, all eye, all ear ;
Jesus is here — my soul's delight.

Is this the heav'nly friend who hung

In blood and anguish on the tree ?
Whom Paul proclaimed, whom David sung ?

Who died for them, who died for me ?

Hail thou fair offspring of my God !

Thou first-born image of his face !
Thy death procured this blest abode,

Thy vital beams adorn the place !

Lo ! he presents me at the throne.

All spotless there the Godhead reigns.
Sublime and peaceful through the Son ;

Awake my voice, in heavenly strains!".

"The place of bmial," says Chrysostom, 'is
called a cemetery (that is, a dormitory), a place of
slumber, to teacli you that they who have departed
are not dead, but have lain down to sleep." The
ancient Pagans sometimes employed the same figure,
but with the adjunct of a terrible ej)ithet ; for they
take care to call it a " perpetual," or an " everlast-
ing " sleep. Thus, in one of the idyls of Moschus,
the Greek poet, after saying that plants cut down
by the winter, and seeming to die, yet revive in the
spring, subjoins :

" But we, or great, or wise, or brave,
Once dead and silent in the grave.
Senseless remain ; one rest we keep —
One long, eternal, unawaken'd sleep."

THE SLEEP OF THE DEAD. 405

And Catullus,

" The sun that sets, again will rise,
And give the day, and gild the skies ;
But when we lose our little light,
We sleep in everlasting night."*

In agreement with whicli heathen darkness, the re-
volutionary philosophers engraved over their famous
burying-places, the inhuman blasphemy, " Death is an
eternal sleep." It would have been a fit inscription for
a field where the carcasses of brutes are cast : but ob-
serve, my brethren, it is only of man that the term is
used ; it is man only who, dying, falls asleep. And the
beautiful jDhrase is too often repeated in the Scriptures
to be set aside as a casual metaphor. Hebrew wor-
thies are said to sleep with their fathers. The
Psalmist, filled with anticipations of awakening,
cries : " Then shall-I be satisfied, when I awake with
thy likeness." But, as might be expected, the term
is most appropriate to the New Testament. It was
when Christ died, and the vail of the temple was rent,
that " many bodies of the saints which slept arose."
" Our friend Lazarus sleepeth," said our benignant
Redeemer ; " but I go that I may awake him out of
sleep." And even amidst the violent agonies of the
first martyrdom, the beloved Stephen, already be-
holding heaven opened, " fell asleep." It seems to
have become the usual word among the ancient
Christians for departm^e from this life. For, speak-
ing of the forty days of Christ's tabernacling here,
after the resurrection, Paul says, concerning the

* Nox est perpetua una dormienda.

406 CONSOLATION.

^ve hundred witnesses : " Of wliom tlie greater part
remain unto this present ; but some are fallen asleep."
Nor could human language furnish us a more sweet
and tranquillizing emblem. It invests the dying
form with a promise of restitution ; enlightens the
darkened chamber ; hangs a garland upon the se-
pulchre ; and draws gentle curtains around the
couch of the beloved. Blessed be God for this
new aspect of what we thought our enemy !

1. The emblem is natural, and is derived from the
obvious resemblance. This is my first observation.
In ancient mythology, sleep was the brother of
death. The first death was probably thought a
sleep; as the first sleep, according to Milton, was
mistaken for death. I stand by the side of an in-
fant, and behold it in quiet slumber. What on
earth can be more lovely? The*eyes are closed;
the senses are locked up; the great external world is
shut out. All is stillness and repose. We look
and wonder, but feel no pain, because we expect a
resurrection from this slumber. In like manner, I
stand by the couch where a beloved friend has
closed his eyes. The doors of sense are shut ; the
outer world is excluded ; but the greater, lovelier,
more awful inner world is there. The marble brow ;
the serene, unmoving features ; the settled smile of
lips which were late so eloquent ; all speak of deep
slumber. But Christianity tells me to dismiss my
fears ; for Jesus comes to awake him out of sleep.

The transition into the two states, under favour
able circumstances, is the same. In blessed souls it

THE SLEEP OF THE DEAD. 40?

is " a gentle wafting to eternal life." We make too
much of the mere article of dying, and often over-
rate its pangs. Sometimes, I know, they are dread-
ful, but even then they are brief. And in a multi-
tude of cases, no doubt, the dying person suffers
less than he has endured many times before ; while
in repeated joyful instances it is only a closing of the
eyes for sleep. Let us be thankful when our friends
are spared all extreme anguish on their dying beds.
The resemblance, therefore, is undeniable ; and it is
good to contemplate the sacred sleep.

2. Sleep comes at the close of the day. To many
a soul this is a pregnant consideration ; for they are
wear}^ of task-work and of working hours. "Is
there not an appointed time to man upon earth ? are
not his days also like the days of a hireling ? as a ser-
vant earnestly desireth the shadow, and as a hireling
looketh for the reward of his labour." When the
burden and heat of the day are over, then comes
the season of repose. " Man goeth forth unto his
work and to his labour until the evening." In that
evening God gives him exemption. It is im|)lied in
this, that the world's business is over. There is
nothing more impressive than to stand amidst a
great city at dead of night, when labour rests,

And all that mighty heart is lying still !

Thus is it when life's day is over. Of what pertains
to this present time, no more can be done. The
season of trial and of labour for our fellows is over ;
it is the hour of sleep. The time of study, for this

408 CONSOLATION.

life, is over ; tlie time of eartlily plans ; tlie time of
bold adventure ; it is tlie lioiir of sleep. " Whatso-
ever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might ;
for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor
wisdom, in the grave, whither thou goest." And
yet that grave is not so much a tomb as a resting-
place — a cemetery. How much more lovely and
more Christian would our grave-yard.s be if they
had more of heaven and less of earth ; more of rest
in that blessed sleep, and less of the restless pursuit
of human glory ; more of our oneness in Christ, and
less of our earthly caste and separation !

" A scene sequestered from the haunts of men ;
The loveliest nook of all that lovely glen,
Where weary pilgrims found their last repose :
The little heaps were ranged in comely I'ows,
With walks between, by friends and kindred trod,
Who dressed with duteous hands each hallow'd sod :
No sculptured monument was taught to breathe
His praises whom the worm devom-ed beneath :
The high, the low, the mighty and the fair,
Eg^ual in death, were undistinguished there,
To some warm heart, the poorest dust was dear ;
For some kind eye, the meanest claimed a tear.
'Twas not a scene for grief to nourish care ;
It breath'd of hope, and moved the heart to prayer."

In that sleep there is an end of human pains to
the children of God. " There the wicked cease from
troubling, and there the weary be at rest; there
the prisoners rest together ; they hear not the voice
of the oppressor. The small and great are there,
and the servant is free from his master." The clo-
sing eye loses sight for ever of every annoyance of

THE SLEEP OE THE DEAD. 409

this life. Perhaps, my brethren, you have never
duly considered this important truth, that all the
prayers of the believer in regard to himself are
answered at once when he falls asleejD. The angel
of death breaks all chains, delivers from all enemies,
repairs all losses, wipes away all sins, and accom-
plishes all wishes, even of a lifetime — and all this at
one moment. These are sweet slumbers, " after life's
fitful fever."

3. Sleep is a temporary state ; an interval be-
tween important periods ; it separates day from day.
So the repose of death, far from the notion of the
atheist, is a season of susj^ense — a prejDaration — a
momentary hiding, before great events. The de-
parted object of your attachment, who now " draws
the sweet infant breath of gentle sleep," is but pre-
paring for a wonderful awaking at the sound of the
trumpet. Not that it is unconscious, not that it is
inactive, not that the soul is gone ; this were to con-
tradict all the analogy ; this were proper death, not
sleep. " To depart" is " to be with Christ." While
we are in this world, " at home in the body, we are
absent from the Lord :" but to go into this sleep, is
" to be absent from the body, and to be present with
the Lord." Whence I add,

4. The dying believer sleeps in Jesus. How in-
comparably refreshing the language of the Apostle
Paul, 1 Cor. 15 : 18, "they which are fallen asleep in
Christ !" What a fragrance exhales from the sacred
urn ! How does it embalm the very bodies of those
whom we have given in charge to Christ ! They

410 CONSOLATIOIT.

sleep in Jesus. It is in his arms they have fainted
away, and he holds, sustains, and embraces them.
This, which seemed a calamity, is foreseen and con-
templated in the covenant. Their very dying has
a connection with the blessed Saviour, for it is joined
to his dying. The term may have had a jDiimary
reference to the martyrs, who laid down their lives
for Christ's sake, but was certainly intended to in-
clude likewise all who die in union with him.
When they close their eyes in holy slumber, they
may well be said to fall asleep in Christ ; for

(1.) They believe in him. It is of believers that
we have been speaking. They are disciples ; they
have lived as such, and as such they die ; If per-
mitted to enjoy any season of tranquil reflection and
discourse before they depart, they gather up their
powers and declare their confidence in the divine
revelation of truth. In this honest moment, they
show how sincere has been their conviction. A
skeptical frame, or a wavering half-belief, would be
but a spider's thread, at such an hour. Now the
soul turns to its refuge, now it must hang by its
grand support, now it must forget all that is du-
bious, all that is secondary, all things that are
earthly, all things but one — and that is Christ.
Now it is, that the greatness of Christianity is re-
vealed, when a man is brought to the great emer-
gency, and must die for it, by it, in it. Let the
infidel bring forth his strong reasons ; let him show
any like confidence in such an hour. Have you
known any examples of it ? Have you heard any

THE SLEEP OF THE DEAD. 411

unbeliever on his dying bed send out for his fellow-
doubters or fellow-deniers, to listen to his final con-
fession of lies, or to pillow his head in the sinking
moment ? Have you seen them gathering around
their comravle, and trying to pluck the dart from
the stricken deer ? On the other hand, how often
have we stood by the bed of death, when the tran-
quil believer has said, " See in what peace a Christian
can die ! " and when, with fiiiling but unwavering
lijDS, he has cried, " I know v>^hom I have believed,
and that he is able to keep that which I have com-
mitted unto him against that day." Such is faith in
these extremities : they believe in Jesus.

(2.) But they also hojoe in Him. " The wicked
is driven away in his wickedness, but the righteous
hath hope in his death." From this moment of
dying, he looks forward ; his blessedness is to come.
During all his religious course, this has been his
discipline and his habit, and has distinguished him
from the men of this world. His " citizenship," his
polity, has been in heaven ; he has lived pei'petually
under the impression, that he belonged to another,
an unseen state. He has conducted all his mental
progress with a direct view to this, and has had
his eye fixed on a point, far beyond, at which all his
problems shall be solved, and the cujd of his know-
ledge made to run over. He has lived in this world,
as not of it, exercising himself to be pure in heart,
that so he might see God ; a vision in which he has
placed his heaven. And his delighted expectation
of this has been founded on the intervention of the

412 CONSOLATION.

revealing Mediator, tlie Word, by whom we draw
near to the Father. Conscious that he has joined him-
self to Christ, he admits the high persuasion of heir-
ship, and such hope at times becomes assurance.
Especially in the dying chamber, this hope in Christ,
which during the glare of day, and the din of busi-
ness, has lived apart, with folded wings, a silent
unseen dove, having arrived at its proper moment,
comes forth, sj)reads its wings, and soars into the
brightest heaven. The eye which is closing on one
world, is opening on another, in which its principal
object is one, the Lamb slain from the foundation of
the world. Thus he hopes in Christ ; and

(3.) He triumphs in him.

The term does not imply noise, transport, or
outcry. The ocean of thought may be deep while
its surface is glassy. The silent language of an eye
full of heaven is more than volumes of exclamation.
But God does, beyond question, reveal himself in
extraordinary supports, at such seasons, and some-
times condescends to open the very windows of
heaven, and give light from the inmost sanctuary ;
so that the child of grace is not merely willing to
die, but joyfully prepared to enter into his chief joy,
overlooking and overleaping all the intervening
pains of dissolution, and the darkness of burial, and
exulting in the cry, " O death, where is thy sting !
O grave, where is thy ^dctory !"

But whether such graces be vouchsafed or not,
and whether the soul departs amidst such visible

THE SLEEP OF THE DEAD. 413

triumph or not, lie who dies a Christian sleeps in
Jesiis.

5. Sleep is a state from which there is awaken-
ing. Here is the glorious point of the analogy. As
the mother hushes, and embosoms, and cradles her
little one, she awaits the unsealing of the eye, and
the unbinding of the fettered limbs, and the resolu-
tion of all its features in a wakeful smile of love.
And just as truly, when we take our last look of
features which we have seen instinct with the varied
sj^irit of a thousand sentiments, and on head, and
hands, yea, and heart, which seemed never long asleep
here, we close that coffin-lid in sure and certain hope
of blessed resurrection. Away with the cold inven-
tions which would summon me to bid an eternal
farewell even to the body, which w^as all allied to
soul, and was its chosen exponent; that temjDle of
the Holy Ghost, which he who created it can with
infinite ease create anew. Away with the prostitut-
ed learning of those who spend all their lucubra-
tions in robbing us of cherished hopes. It is because
this nighfc is to have a morning, because this slum-
ber is to be broken, that we are comforted. It is
the return of Christ in his glory which is the basis
of our expectation. For what says the apostle ? "I
would not have you ignorant, brethren, concerning
them which are asleep, that ye sorrow not, even as
others which have no hope. For if we believe that
Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which
sleep in Jesus will God bring with Him." When
Christ the Lord shall appear, then shall they also

414 CONSOLATION.

appear witli Mm in glory. That will be tlie day of
blessed restitution, '' when he shall come to be glo-
rified in his saints, and to be admired in all them
that believe." They are now with Christ ; they are
this moment at home with the Lord. They shall still
be mth him when he shall come in triumph. Mean-
while his voice is heard among the tombs, saying, " I
am the resurrection and the life. He that believeth
in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live :
And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall
never die."

Faith looks forward to the transcendant glory
which, first enveloping in its cloud of light Christ,
the head, shall next enclose and transfigure those
who are Christ's at his coming; when God the
Almighty Father shall bring into the burning focus
of universal observation, not the Master only, but
all who have loved and followed him ; and the
beams of that appearance shall be reflected from
the central light on all the circle and retinue of
attendant saints ; for they that are in their graves
shall hear the voice of the Son of God ; and " them
that sleep in Jesus will God bring with him."

Over the grave of those of God's people whom
we have loved, a watchful angel seems to stand in
silent waiting ; his awful hand ready upon the seal
of the sepulchre, to enlarge from all bonds, at the
appointed moment, those, who shall have died in
the faith. This may compose our minds amidst the
sudden agitations of a violent bereavement; stay
the flood of our tears, when those we most loved are

THE SLEEP OF THE DEAD. 415

carried out of our sight ; and kindle hope amidst
the darkest sorrow. This may encourage our belief,
that when genius, and talent, and learning, and
piety, are removed from the church below, they
shall reappear in fresh beauty and enlarged capaci-
ties, in the church above. This may teach us, when
friends and companions are smitten down beside us,
in the midst of their labours and researches, to look
more at what is yet to come.

If death is a sleep, and if there is an awakening
out of this sleep, then we may with confidence com-
mit their bodies to the grave. Let us look back in
thought, to the great number whom we have con-
signed to this sure repose. Few are there among us,
who have not some Christian friends over whom to
shed the tear. They sleep, but it is to awake again.
God hath so promised, and he is faithful. Not only
their souls are safe, but their very bodies shall be
preserved. How precious is that doctrine of resur-
rection which Paul spreads forth at length in the
fifteenth chapter of the first epistle to the Corin-
thians ! There we learn that the bodies of believers
are lost, only in the sense in which seed is lost, which
we cast into the ground. It retm^ns to dust ; but
the day is coming when it shall be raised and glori-
fied. It is the day when our Lord shall bring with
him aU those who sleep in Jesus. They are as safe
as the very angels. Their bodies in the tomb, their
souls in paradise. This casts a ray of holy sunshine
over the green turf which swells above a father,
a brother, or a child. Life and immortality are

416 . CONSOLATION.

brought to light by the gosjDel. Infidelity has no
such promises. As to the body, it gives that up to
corruj)tion. As to the soul, it can at best only sur-
mise its immortality. The greatest philosopher
looks trembhng and hesitating into the gulf of futu-
rity : while the humblest, yea (in other things) the
most ignorant Christian widow, or Christian child,
has an unbroken confidence on the assurance of Him
who cannot lie, that there shall be a reunion with
blessed spirits gone before, in that world which by
a sublime attraction is drawing to itself the pure
and the lovely of all ages. So much is a simj^le faith
in the gospel above all philosophy of man.

In the same blessed faith we may prepare for
laying our own bodies in the grave. For, beloved
brethren, we must soon die. Some avoid the
thought, and every thing which leads to it. Some,
with a cowardly superstition, dread even the making
of a will, lest it should hasten the event. But do
what we may, it is hastening on ; time, with mighty
pinions, is carrying us towards the inevitable doom.
There is no discharge in that war ; and the true
believer has no reason to dread the thought. He
would not live here always. This is not his rest ;
this is not his continuing city ; his citizenship is in
heaven ; his name is registered there. And though
on his way thither he must needs pass through the
strait of death ; it is part of God's teaching to re-
move his fear of this last enemy. The grave loses
its chill, to one who has beheld Christ's sacred
body descending into it. And as that sacred body

THE SLEEP OP THE DEAD. 417

arose, so we know that the bodies of believers shall
arise ; and them also which sleejD in Jesus will God
bring with him. God will bring us, with Christ, to
meet such as shall be caught up from the earth
without dying. In preparing for death (and it is
wise to prepare), our thoughts should not dwell long
on this transient and comparatively unimportant
period of the grave. What is the grave in the scale
of eternity ? A momentary sleep ; and them that
sleep Christ will awaken ; we shall lie there but a
little while. That which is beyond is glorious.

3._ That will be a glorious meeting with Jesus
and his awakened saints. All earthly things ought
to fade in the comparison. It ought to be much in
our thoughts. Our contemplations ought to over-
leap intervening trifles. God has made us suscepti-
ble of exquisite social affections, and these are not lim-
ited to this world. They will be expanded, satisfied
and glorified, .in the world to come. There shall be
gathered all those holy and redeemed souls whom
Christ shall bring with him. New acquaintance-
ships shall then begin, but, unlike those of this
world, shall never end. Ties are often created here
only to be sundered : there, there shall be no sunder-
ings. There is no reason known to us why all
Christ's people, of all ages, may not learn to know
one another during the lapse of a glorious eternity.
Why not ? Why should we not, as Dr. Watts beau-
tifully represents it in his sermons on Death, be in-
troduced, as a part of our hapj)iness, to all those
who have believed and been saved, fi^om Abel down-
•27

418 CONSOLATION.

wards ; all patriarchs, psalmists, lioly kings, prophets^
apostles, martyrs, confessors, reformers, missionaries,
philanthropists, suiferers ; reading in the history of
each the wonderful way in which Divine Sovereign
Love works out its problem ; and finding new cause
to sing loudly to the praise of the glory of that
grace, wherein' all are accepted in the Beloved ? I
love not those visionary views of heavenly enjoy-
ment which reduce all to a vapour or a dream. The
Scriptures teach otherwise, and lead us to expect a
state in which our rational human faculties and pro-
pensities shall be sanctified, but not exterminated ;
and in which we shall still be capable of recogni-
tion, of converse, of mutual instruction, mutual love,
and resulting peace and joy. And that which shall
be so innocent and so rapturous in the possession we
may look forward to with hope ; distinctly present-
ing to ourselves the time when Jesus shall gather
together in one all the people of God, from among
all nations. And their number will be great. For
all that I know, the world may stand thousands of
years yet ; and during that period the conquests of
Christianity will probably be unexampled. From
the rich harvests of all the continents, God will fur-
nish for himself abundant glory. And in meeting
with those who shall be with Christ, we shall meet
with the glory of all lands and all ages. It would be
narrow and insufficient to confine our views to those
only who are of our own kindred. In that day we
shall be kindred with the nations of them that are

THE SLEEP OF THE DEAD. 419

saved, througli Him after whom tlie whole family,
both in heaven and earth, is named.

But the doctrine lifts om' expectations to a meet-
ing not only with all saints, but with the King of
all saints. " God will bring with Him " — with
Christ. It is the connection with him that gives the
safety and the glory. They died with him ; they
rose with him ; they suffered with him ; they shall
be glorified with him. The wish of all believers in
this world has been : We would see Jesus ! Then
they shall see him surrounded by all who have
loved him. "We know not what we shall be ; but
we know that, when He shall appear, we shall be
like him, for we shall see hkn as he is." This is the
apostle John's idea of heaven, " We shall see him as
he is." This will be enough. Here we have seen
by glimpses, cloudily, in an enigma, "through a
glass darkly ;" but then, clearly, nearly, fully, " face
to face." And the object so seen is of all in the
universe the most worthy of being contemplated.
God shines in Him. " In him dwelleth all the ful-
ness of the Godhead bodily." To see him, in the
fulness of his unveiled excellence, will be a celestial
pleasure, well worth dying for.

What serious self-examination ought there to
be, to discover whether we are really of the num-
of those whom God will bring with Christ. Some-
thing has already been said as to their character.
It remains for us to apply these truths to ourselves.
Not all that die shall be so privileged; not all
that rise, shall rise to glory, but some to shame

420 CONSOLATION.

and everlasting contempt. Some shall see Mm, only to
hear him say, Depart, accursed ! Not all that have
sat down at the Lord's table, and enrolled their
names among his followers, shall thereby obtain
inheritance ; for to some who knock he shall say,
" I never knew you ! " Not all that die, shall sleep
in Jesus. Come then, O my reader, with haste, and
with deep solemnity, to the inquiry, whether indeed
you have any title to indulge this pleasing antici-
pation. On what is it founded ? On your having
done no harm — on your innocence — on your having
done as well as you could — on your baptism — on
your communion ? Alas ! you have already pro-
nounced judgment against yourself! These pleas
will not abide the day of his coming ? Have you
seen yourself to be a sinful, guilty, helpless, ruined
creature ? and have you justified the law which con-
demns you ? Have you despaired of all help in
yourself ? Have you believed the record, that
God is in Christ reconciling the world unto himself?
And so believing, have you accepted his free and
sovereign promise, and cast yourself on his faithful
and almighty arm ? Do you perceive in yourself
any marks of the new creature ? Have old things
passed away ? Have all things become new ? Are
you striving to live a new life, to the praise and
glory of him who hath saved you ? Do you war
against all sin ? Do you endeavour all obedience ?
Do you pray to God, rejoice in him, and seek con-
verse with him ? And have you any witness that
you are accepted of him ?

THE SLEEP OF THE DEAD. 421

If these things, or any goodly nnmber of tliem,
are in you; then you may hope, through infinite
mercy, to be among the throng of saved souls.

But if, on the contrary, conscience answers no,
to these interrogatories, what shall I say to you?
shall I encourage you to indulge pleasing thoughts
of death and eternity? I dare not. Fly for your
lives ! Tarry not in all the plain ! Flee from the
wrath to come. Dying in your present condition,
you will fall into a double death. God gives you
warning, he brandishes his sword before he smites.
He removes others, when he might as easily have
removed you. Some day, he may remove you as
a warning to others. Friends and comrades will
gather around your coffin, but their words or
thoughts about you will have no efi'ect on your
destiny. At that moment your soul will be either
in heaven or hell. And when Christ shall come, he
will not bring you with him. You will indeed have
to stand before him, to give an accomit of the deeds
done in the body, to answer for all your Sabbaths,
all your light and all your warnings. You will
then see these things in their true light ; but it will
be too late. It is still your day of grace, Christ's
very warnings tell you so. I beseech you, lay a
good foundation for time to come. Believe in this
Saviour of sinners, that you may be safe in that
day of alarm, when the elements shall melt with
fervent heat. Resolve, with God's aid, that you
will be of that company, who shall have washed
their robes and made them white in the blood of the

422 CONSOLATION.

Lamb. I am conscious of the reiteration of these
entreaties and exhortations; but, till you heed
them, what can I do but reiterate them ? O be per-
suaded to be happy. O consent to be safe. O resist
no longer the gracious arm that would lift you up to
heaven.

ALL CONSOLATION TRACED UP TO ITS
DIVINE SOURCE.

XYIII.

AS we liave pursued tlie various topics of conso-
lation which reside in the attributes, the cove-
nant, and the promises of God, in their apphcation
to different conditions of humanity, we have been
perpetually led to observe that these means of com-
fort have no efficiency of themselves, but need to be
impressed upon the sufferer's soul by an omnipotent
hand. If in treating our subject we had observed
the order of nature, and begun with the cause, we
should have opened our subject with the Fountain of
all grace, even God himself We have, however,
arrived at the same point by an inverse method,
and sino^lino^ out some of the numerous streams, have
traced them up to the divine excellency from which
they flow. But this deserves our more particular
consideration.

In much of the foregoing remarks we have found
occasion to make reference to the Apostle Paul.
There is scarcely a single writing of his preserved
to the church in which this subject is not touched.
But there is one of his epistles^ namely, the second
to the Corinthians, in which he more fully opens the
stores of Christian consolation. It was penned

426 CONSOLATION.

after emerging from a great and severe trial, in
wliicli lie was pressed out of measure above strength,
insomncli that he despaired even of life, and had the
sentence of death in himself (2 Cor. 1 : 8, 9.) These
extraordinary afflictions, as he informs us, were in-
tended to fit him for the delightful work of consol-
ing others. " And whether we be afflicted," says
he, " it is for your consolation and salvation, which
is wrought in the enduring of the same suffer-
ings which we also suffer : or whether we be com-
forted, it is for your consolation and salvation."
(1 : 6, margin?) And in recollection of what he
had graciously received, he breaks forth into a dox-
ology, which contains a very remarkable expression :
" Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus
Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all
COMFOET !" Although this is introduced by us only
as introductory to the chief subject, it certainly
merits a moment's regard. When God is here
spoken of as the source of all consolation, it is to be
observed that he is so exhibited, not in his essential
or his rectoral glory, but in his covenant relation,
that is, as the " God and Father of our Lord Jesus
Christ ;" justifying what we have had repeated occa-
sion to say in these pages, that all God's mercies,
and all his comforts, come to us only through the
channel provided by the plan of grace in Christ
Jesus.

That God is the great Consoler is abundantly
testified by the Old Testament, which in all its parts
is a consistent prelude and anticipation of the New.

GOD THE CONSOLEE. 427

To establisli this assertion, we miglit cite a large
portion of the book of Psahns. Every parental
heart comprehends and feels the tender figure, when
David sings, " Like as a father pitieth his children,
so the Lord pitieth them that fear him. For he
knoweth our fi^ame ; he remembereth that we are
dust." (Ps. 103 : 13, 14.) And the same assurance
is presented even more touchingly, where the Lord
thus addresses his people: "As one whom his
mother comforteth, so will I comfort you, and ye
shall be comforted in Jerusalem." (Is. 66 : 13.)
This special work of fatherly kindness is largely set
forth in the prophecies. "For the Lord shall com-
fort Zion, he shall comfort all her waste places ; and
he will make her wilderness like Eden, and her
desert like the garden of the Lord ; joy and glad-
ness shall be found therein, thanksgiving and the
voice of melody." (Is. 51 : 3.) Without resorting,
however, to textual proof, we cannot fail to observe,
from the patriarchal days downward through all the
tracts of the Hebrew annals, how benignant a re-
gard the Almighty bestows upon his suffering ser-
vants, and how ready' his hand is to wij^e away
their tears. Yet it must be acknowledged, that dur-
ing all this preparatory discipline of the ancient
church, their eye is directed to a period yet future, in
which di^dne consolations should have larger scope.
And the blessed ao^encies thus indicated are seen
to centre themselves in Him who is " the desire of
all nations." It has frequently been remarked by
commentators, that the hope of the coming Messias

428 CONSOLATION.

is thrown in, upon many occasions, precisely where
the prospects of the chosen seed were most envelop-
ed in darkness. The Messias of prophecy character-
izes himself as a Consoler. " The S23irit of the Lord
God is upon me ; because the Lord hath anointed
me to ]3reach glad tidings unto the meek ; he hath
sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim
liberty to the captives, and the opening of the pris-
on to them that are bound ; to proclaim the accept-
able year of the Lord, and the day of vengeance of
our God; to comfort all that mourn; to appoint
unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them
beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the
garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness ; that
they might be called trees of righteousness, the
planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified."
(Is. 61 : 1, 2, 3.) Accordingly, when the Lord Jesus
Christ, in the fulness of time made a public demon-
stration of his Messiahship in the synagogue of Na-
zareth, he unrolled the sacred scroll, and read aloud
this very prediction. (Luke 4:16.) And the whole
series of his words and his benefactions were in the
spirit of this prophetic word.

But we approach more touching manifestations
of this spirit of consolation in those days when
the cloud of his mediatorial sufferings was grow-
ing more dark, and he was about to be separated
from his disciples. We shall here find a new aspect
of the doctrine which may properly occupy our
thoughts in conclusion.

After the institution of the Lord's Supper, and

GOD THE CONSOLER. 429

in that discourse which preceded his arrest in the
garden, our blessed Saviour uttered some of his most
remarkable words of grace. Among these one great
promise stands pre-eminent ; it is in these terms :
'' And I will pray the Father, and he shall give you
another comforter, that he may abide with you for
ever; even the Spirit of Truth, whom the world
cannot receive, because it seeth him not, neither
knoweth him ; but ye know him, for he dwelleth
with you and shall be in you. I will not leave you
comfortless (orjDhans), I will come to you. These
things have I spoken unto you, being yet present
with you. But the Comforter, which is the Holy
Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, he
shall teach you all things, and bring all things to
your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto
you." (John 14 : 16, 17, 18, 25, 26.)

For the satisfactory understanding of this de-
lightful passage, it is necessary for us to give espe-
cial attention to its principal term. Expressive as
is the word Comforter, it does not reach the full
comprehension of the original. Paraclete^ which sig-
nifies also a monitor and an advocate.* The first

* The verb from which it is derived means to call upon, to admo-
nish, and to exhort in the way of consolation. The derivative here
used, JlapaKhf]To^^ is therefore an advocate, an intercessor, who pleads
the cause of any one before a judge, and then a consoler or comforter.
See Robinson's Lexicon. The word Paraclete has been freely intro-
duced into the elevated language of all Christian churches. It early
appeared in the Latin hymns : for instance,

Beata nobis gaudia

Anni reduxit orbita,

Cum Spiritus Paraclitus

Illapsus est apostolis.

430 CONSOLATION.

observation wMdi suggests itself is that this pro-
mised visitant was to come in Christ's stead. " These
things have I spoken unto you, being yet present
with you; but the Comforter, which is the Holy
Ghost, shall teach," &c. That is, He shall come in
my name and jDlace. And there are rnspeakable
grace and fulness in this, which we shall not duly
estimate unless we consider what the actual presence
of Jesus conferred on the disciples. They were
'' the children of the bride-chamber," and could not
mourn, because the Bridegroom was with them.
He was to them an ever-present spring of consola-
tion. Imperfect as were some of their views, before
the resurrection and Pentecost, they were neverthe-
less with Christ. They saw his countenance. They
witnessed his mighty works. They heard him speak
as never man spake. They had communication
with him. They enjoyed his love. They were over-
shadowed by his continual protection. If sorrow
sometimes broke forth, there was a hand always
near to wipe away their tears. He was himself
their personal monitor, advocate, and comforter.
The promise is one which intimates a gracious sub-
stitution, and was suited to that moment of sorrow.
How much they were confounded by the tidings of
his approaching departure, is sufficiently manifest
from the words, " What is this that he saith unto us,
A little while and ye shall not see me : and again, A
little while and ye shall see me ; and. Because I go
to the Father ?" (16 : 17.) And it is to console them

GOD THE CONSOLEE. 431

under tliis expected removal, tliat tlie Comforter is
promised, just at this juncture.

The Holy Spirit is here unquestionably proposed,
as able and willing to do for disciples all that they
would seek from the personal presence of Christ.
Our Lord expresses this most strongly, when he
I'ejDresents the mission of the Comforter as a great
reason why he was about to ascend into the heavenly
l^laces. " It is expedient for you that I go away ;
for if I go not away the Comforter will not come
unto you; but if I dejDart, I will send him unto
you." (16: Y.) They should not lose, but gain, by
such a departure of our Lord to the completion of
his mediatorial work. The Spirit, as we shall pre-
sently see more fully, was eminently able to suj^ply
these wants, for he is the Sj)irit of Christ, by whom,
as man, Jesus himself was anointed above measure,
and endowed for his work ; by whom also, in their
measure, each beHever is endowed and anointed,
receiving from his fulness, " and grace for grace.''
We are therefore authorized to believe, that the
divine Paraclete fully, gloriously, and increasingly,
suj^plies to disciples the place of a present Jesus.

Another observation, by no means to be omit^
ted, is that the promised Comforter is to come from
the Father. God himself is the author of this con-
solation. ; as he is the eternal fount of all excellency.
But it is not as Creator, Preserver, Sovereign, or
Lawgiver that he now acts, but as the God of grace
and redemj)tion. And hence we are led anew to
admire the harmony of the Divine Persons. The

432 CONSOLATION.

Holy Spirit is not a creature, however exalted, nor
a power, nor an effluence, nor an agency, but a co-
equal and co-eternal Person in the Divine essence.
In every moment of tlie mediatorial work the Three,
who are One, are equally and gloriously oj^erative
towards the end in view ; but according to a myste-
rious economy, in which the office and acts of each
are distinguished. The Comforter is the Spirit of
the Father and the Son. He proceedeth eternally
from the Father and the Son. And in the dispen-
sation of time, he is sent by the Father, in those in-
fluences which are needed to complete the work of
grace in believers. The adorable Father himself,
" our Father w^hich is in heaven," loves us. He is
especially and primarily the fountain of redeeming
mercy ; the deviser of the covenant, the giver of the
Surety. He moreover loves his people, in the car-
rying on of this very work ; and it is in the exercise
of an eternal and ineffable love that he sends the
Holy Spirit; for he is "the God of all comfort."
This should dispose us, especially in times of trial, to
look up to God the Father with unwavering filial
confidence. Yet these manifestations of favour ob-
serve a due order, and are connected with the merit
and intercession of Him, who is more strictly our
Redeemer.

This will be more apparent, when we add the
observation, that the promised Comforter is to come
in Christ's name. All spiritual blessings so conie ;
and we may regard the Holy Ghost as the all-com-
prehensive blessing. He who has this gift has all.

GOP THE CONSOLER. - 433

Now, this gift is bestowed with a direct reference to
the Lord Jesus Christ. "Whom," said he, "the
Father will send in my name." We have already
seen that he comes in Christ's place. It remains to
be said, that he comes at Christ's request. The
Lord assured them that he would pray the Father
for this gift. For our blessed Redeemer, though as-
cended to heaven in his human nature, is not indif-
ferent to the interests of his 23eople ; " seeing he
ever liveth to make intercession for us." Every
benefit of the covenant which we receive during our
whole existence is the result of Christ's prevalent
agency for us in the court of heaven. No applica-
tion of the righteousness procured by his suffering and
obedience would ever be made but for the perfect
carrying on of this work in the Holy of Hohes, be-
yond the vail of the visible heavens. And when,
Bs High Priest, he bears the stones of the breast-
plate graven with the names of the holy tribes, he
forgets no one of his chosen, but looks down with
an individual regard on each of his people, with a
wise and merciful reference to every particular case
of want or affliction. Nor can I think of a doctrine
more fraught with consolation, if properly consider-
ed, than that the Lord Jesus Christ makes each of
us the subject of his prayers in heaven; miless it be
this further limitation of the same truth, that what
he so prays for is nothing less than the gift of the
Holy Ghost.

When it is said that the Comforter shall be sent
in Christ's name, the meaning unquestionably is that
28

434 CONSOLATION.

he shall be sent in consideration of Christ's merits
We are not to look on this august communication as
among those bounties which come to us in the ordi-
nary routine of common providential dispensations.
There would have been no sending of the Holy
Ghost but for the covenant work, the righteous de-
serving, the federal subjugation, and the atoning
death of the Son of God. This death placed the
crown of glory on his work of humiliation. When,
at a certain time, preaching in the temple, he j)rom-
ised this blessing under the beautiful image of rivers
of living water, it is added by the evangelist : " But
this spake he of the Spirit, which they that believe
on him should receive : for the Holy Ghost was not
yet given ; because that Jesus was not yet glorified."
(John 7 : 39.) Some communications in this kind
had doubtless been made, even under the Old Testa-
ment dispensation; but the moment was not fully
come " for the ministration of the Spirit ;" nor could
it come until the day of his ascension in triumph
unto glory. Let it then be fixed in our minds, that
the gift of the Comforter is a purchased gift. It is
the desert of our Lord's mediatorial obedience unto
death. The work of Gethsemane and of the cross
must precede this effusion. So felt the apostles on
the day of Pentecost, when, after visible and audi-
ble tokens of this presence, Peter, speaking in their
name, said, " Therefore being by the right hand of
God exalted, and having received of the Father ilie
promise of the Holy Gliost^ he hath shed forth this,
which ye now see and hear." (Acts 2 : 33.) In-

GOD THE CONSOLER. 435

deed the communication of tlie Holy Spiiit is but
a carrying forward in heaven of the work which
Christ ]jeG:an on eartli. It is Christ himself workinsf
by the Spirit in the hearts of his j^eople.

An equally important observation is, that, even
in his consoling work, the promised Spirit comes as
a teacher and monitor. Not only " is all truth, in
order to goodness ;" but it may be added, all truth
is in order to consolation. Hence we read concern-
ing " patience and comfort of the Scriptures ; " the
solace of di^dne truth. This connection is very
obvious in the j^romise, " He shall teach you all
things, and bring all things to your remambrance,
whatsoever I have said unto you."

No careful reader will fail to observe, that this
is one of the most important senses in which the
Holy Spirit, as the Paraclete, was to supply the
place of Christ. The Xord Jesus, in his proj^hetic
office, was the teacher of his disciples. These his
personal and dii'ect instructions were valuable and
delightful beyond expression. Grace was poured
into his lips. The loss in this respect must have
seemed irreparable, and all human instructors must
have been despicable in comparison. Remembering
how he spake, we may be almost forgiven if we
sometimes regret that we had not seen one of these
days of the Son of Man. But that which the Lord
Jesus once did with his own lips, he now and hence-
forth accomplishes by the Holy Spirit. " He shall
teach you all things." The a]3ostle John, in speaking
of false and seducing teachers, contrasts with them

436 CONSOLATION.

ttis teacMng of the Holy Ghost, as enjoyed by be-
lievers. " But ye have an unction from the Holy One,
and ye know all things. But the anointing whicli
ye have received of him abide th in you, and ye
need not that any man teach you ; but as the same
anointing teacheth you of all things, and is truth
and is no he, and even as it hath taught you, ye
shall abide in him." (1 John 2 : 20, 21.) Thus we are
enabled to perceive more clearly and fully how the
adorable Spirit comes in Christ's name. He teaches
what Christ taught. He takes of the things of
Christ, and shows them unto us. From the infinite
fund of wisdom and knowledge, of which he is the
inspirer, and which is no less Christ's, he draws and
dispenses, according to the diversified necessities of
the church. It is scarcely a change of teacher. The
Spirit gives the same lesson. He repeats and re-
vives it ; brings out afresh in the chambers of
memory the characters which had faded on the
walls ; and touches the sluggish heart to awaken it
to new impressions. All this we believe to be by
a direct influence on the soul ; opening the recep-
tive faculty, pouring in light, causing knowledge,
belief, emotion, and will, no less than providing
an objective revelation in the Scrii^tures. There is
a condescension even to the weakness of human
memory. It need scarcely be said that truth de-
rives much of its value from being seasonable.
Experience testifies that a doctrine or promise of
the word, long neglected or forgotten, may be so
applied in a moment of emergency, by the Holy

GOD THE CONSOLER. 43if

Spirit, as to diffuse a sudden and unspeakable joy
over tlie soul. It is this wliicli accounts for the
difference between reader and reader, between
hearer and hearer, and between different states of
the same individual. In order that truth be effica-
cious, especially to consolation, something more is
necessary than that it should be revealed; some-
thing more than that it should be apprehended by
the natural understanding ; it must be brought
home to the spiritual perception and the faith.
And to do this is the especial province of the Holy
Sj^irit. In the preceding discourses our minds have
been brought into the presence of many divine
truths which are suited to lift up the heart that is
cast down; but this effect will not be produced,
except so far as the Holy Spirit takes, shows, and
impresses them. And this he graciously does to
many a broken-hearted Christian.

But why should we be detained from that which
after all is the great import of these divine commu-
nications ? The promised Spirit is sent to believers,
as a Comforter, in the common acceptation of the
word. This it is which brings the subject more
particularly within the scope of the present investi-
gation. It is the " God of all comfort," in the per-
son of the adorable Spirit, pouring his consolations
over the sorrowing heart. For the words of Jesus
had failed of their application if this had not been
included. The disciples were in unexampled grief;
sorrow had filled their hearts ; they were expecting
orphanage and desolation. That which the l)eiiig-

438 CONSOLATION.

nant Kedeemer promises tliem is a Comforter; and
this it is wliicli we all need. It is into a world of siglis
and tears, from manifold and mnltiform calamity, and
into a cliurcli wliicli tlirough mucli tribulation presses
on towards tlie kingxlom, that this divine Visitant
deigns to come.

The primary mode of communicating consolation
has been abeady pointed out. It is by the instru-
mentality of truth. This truth, as to the matter of
it, is not a new revelation ; but the Spirit takes of
the things of Christ and shows them to us. Tliis
truth is summed up in the canon of Scriptuje ; and,
therefore, the word of God is beyond all other vol-
umes the Book of Consolation. Though neglected
in days of prosperity, and seasons of religious de-
cline, it is sure to be open on the tables and in the
hands of sorrowing disciples. The disposition to fly
to the Bible in hours of trouble is so strong and
constant, that it ma}^ be denominated an instinct of
the new nature. Not more naturally does the new-
born babe turn to the fount of infant nutrition.
And the testimony of all Christian mourners is, that
at these wells of salvation they have found refresh
ment and solace. It would be next to death to re-
move the Scriptures from a burdened saint. But
though persecution has often removed the letter of
the external volume, the Holy Spirit, even in dun-
geons, has awakened the inward ear of the sufferer,
and brought to remembrance the words of this
life.

The truth which we have been last considering,

GOD THE CONSOLEE. 439

is clearly tauglit in those words of tlie Apostle Paul,
in whicli lie says, '' Now the God of hope fill you
with all jDeace and joy in believing, that ye may
abound in hope through the power of the- Holy
Ghost." (Kom. 13 : 3.) Here the consolation is
very distinctly ascribed to behef of the truth. This
truth, as containing the plan of salvation for lost sin-
ners, is denominated the Gospel, or good tidings ;
and as such it is made to rejoice the believer's heart
from the very beginning of the Christian life. To a
soul properly exercised, all its truths are consola-
tory, and more and more so as progress is made in
divine things. As the views of divine truth become
more clear and comprehensive, the comforts of the
Spirit become more abiding, agreeably to what we
attempted to lay down in treating of Hope and Joy
in the Lord.

It is of great importance to remember, that di-
rect and large and believing views of precious
Christian doctrines, concerning God, Christ, salva-
tion, and heaven, are the principal means which the
Holy Spirit uses for the support of the soul, even un-
der heavy afilictions. On this head serious errors
ai'e prevalent. First, the thoroughly worldly man,
having treasure and heart in the present life, neither
desires nor seeks any portion but that which is car-
nal ; and if this is taken away, he is like Micah of
old when be]"eft of his gods. Remaining in this con-
dition, he is utterly insusceptible of any spiritual
relief from the chosen means of the great Consoler.
He lacks all taste and relish for those divine reali-

440 CONSOLATION.

ties wliicli are angels' food. Under sudden and
alarming strokes of providential judgment, lie is
sometimes stupefied and sometimes frantic ; and
wlien tlie storm of rebellious passions lulls itself to
rest, lie murmurs awhile, like tlie tempest-tossed
ocean, and then subsides into tke calm of unbeliev-
ing security. In all tkis tkere is no operation of
comforting truth. Secondly ; the partially enlight-
ened believer, as yet inexperienced in these lessons
of the heavenly Monitor, is at first greatly surpri-
sed by the access of severe chastening. The mode
in which divine comforts are communicated is as
yet unknown to him. He looks for removal of the
rod as the only relief which can suffice ; and for a
time his earnest supplications go out in this direc-
tion. If, for example, he has been impoverished,
he expects some indemnity in kind. If some griev-
ous burden is laid upon him, he hopes that it may
be removed ; and it is only after repeated trials that
he learns the method of grace. But thirdly, the
ripe Christian, long tried in the school of sorrows, is
made to know that the soul may be comforted
amidst the very billows. In some unexpected mo-
ment divine illumination reveals to him the great
abiding truths of the spiritual world ; truths which
are as precious and as satisfying, in adverse as in pros-
perous days. By a process of holy attraction, his
thoughts are drawn away from self and all its inte-
rests and losses, to be fixed and absorbed by the
character of God, by his mighty works, by the per-
son of the Redeemer, by the work of redemption,

GOD THE CONSOLER. 441

by the progress of the kingdom, and by the glory
yet to be revealed. Filled and animated and tran-
quillized by these, he is led to forget his private
griefs ; and thus the Comforter performs his office
by means of the truth. "The things of Christ,"
aj^jDlied to the inner sense, direct the mind from its
earthly pangs, and to a certain extent afford a pre-
libation of the celestial joy.

From what has been said it might readily be
anticipated, that the processes by which the Holy
Spirit forms the soul to holiness, do, at the same
time, conduce to its consolation. Here the work of
the Sanctifier and the work of the Comforter really
coalesce. Sin is a disorder of the human powei's,
in which their harmony is destroyed, and the result
is the turbulence of wretched passions. If this dis-
cord were not limited, it would become absolutely
hellish ; and such is in part the penal woe of the
eternal torment. " There is no peace, saith my God,
to the wicked." But every step in sanctiiication is
a restitution in measure to the primitive harmony
and peace of man. And this work cannot go on
without a proportionate augmentation of happiness.
To arrive at consolation we must be made more
holy.

Nothing is more evident than that those graces
which are denominated the fi-uits of the Spirit, are
in their very nature modes of happiness. No man
can possess them without a diminution of suffering.
Some of them are directly consolatory, because they
strilve at the very root of our inward disquietudes

442 coNSOLATioisr.

" Tlie fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suf-
fering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temper-
ance." (Gal. 5:22, 23.) "For the fruit of the
Spirit is in all goodness, and righteousness, and
truth." (Eph. 5 : 9.) For instance. Faith, by rea-
lizing to the soul the divine truths which we have
been considering, carries it away above its sufferings,
and so consoles ; while we look not at the things
which are seen, which are temporal, but at the
things which are not seen, which are eternal. Good
ness, or evangelical benevolence, is delightful in its
very acts ; and we never so forget our own sorrows
as when we are endeavouring to increase the happi-
ness of our neighbour. Gentleness diffuses a blessed
calm over the nature. Love is the atmosphere of
heaven. Long-suffering and Meekness counteract all
those distresses — and they are innumerable — which
arise from pride, anger, and revenge. Joy, as we
have already seen, drives out the soul's pains by the
expulsive power of a new dominant affection. And
Peace is but the scriptural name for the entire result
of combined holy satisfactions in the heart. When
the promised Spirit enters into a soul, and j)roduces
these its fruits, it does, in the same degree, tend to
dispel troubles, and is the efficient cause of consola-
tion amidst the greatest fight of afflictions.

We might here enlarge upon the comforting
effects produced by the witness of the Spirit, and the
assurance of God's love ; but this has akeady been
made the subject of a separate discourse. Let us
rather bestow a few thoughts upon the enduring

GOD THE CONSOLER. 443

natui'e of this spiritual influence. It is found in these
clauses of the promise : " For he dwelleth with you,
and shall be in you ;" " And he shall give you an-
other Comforter, that he may abide with you for
ever." Their Lord was about to be removed from
them, in respect to his personal presence, and they
were filled with sorrow. He promises them a Con-
soler who should never be removed. It is one of
the most precious truths of our holy religion, that
the Spirit of grace is not merely a guest or visitor,
but a perpetual inhabitant. This is true in regard
both to the collective body of saints, who are a tem-
ple of the Lord, and to the individual believer.
Both were ]3refigured by the . constant residence of
Jehovah, with the manifested Shekinah, in the tab-
ernacle and the temple. " I will dwell among the
children of Israel," said the Lord, " and will be their
God." (Exod. 29 : 45.) He is, therefore, addi'essed
as dwelling between the cherubim, that is, in the
Holy of Holies, above the golden propitiatory of the
ark. The temple was typical of the New Testament
church, " built upon the foundation of the apostles
and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief
corner stone ; in whom all the building fitly framed
together, groweth unto a holy temple in the Lord ;
in whom ye also," says Paul to the Ej^hesians,. " are
builded together, for a habitation of God through the
Spirit." (2 : 20, 21, 22.) And to other Christians of
primitive days, "Ye are the temple of the living God ;
as God hath said, I will dwell in them, and walk in
them ; and I will be their God, and they shall be my

444 CONSOLATION.

people." (2 Cor. 6 : 16.) Nor is this inhabitation
confined to Christians as a collective churcli; for
the same apostle says, with individual application,
" What ! know ye not that your body is the tem-
ple of the Holy Ghost which is in you, which ye
have of God, and ye are not your own ?" (1 Cor.
6 : 19.)

There is something at once dreadful and de-
lightful in this indwelling of the Holy One in
houses of clay. It is dreadful to be so near that
divine glory, before which the Seraphim veil their
faces. The argument hence derived against the
abuse of the body to purposes of sin, is natural and
cogent. It is on the other hand delightful to con-
sider, that the source of all holiness and comfort is
within us, if we belong to Christ. The promised
Comforter has made his shrine in our very bodies,
and possesses our souls with his presence. He can-
not be ignorant of our condition, and no trial can
befall us without his permission, as there is also no
sorrow which he cannot assuage. This is felt with
unutterable peace when the Divine witness testifies
within the soul. "And hereby we know that he
abideth in us, by the Spirit which he hath given us."
(1 John 3 : 24.)

While, as we have seen, there is a perpetual in-
dwelling of the Holy Spirit in the soul of the true
believer, it by no means follows that the manifesta-
tions of his consoling attributes are equal at all times.
On the contrary, as he keeps his throne in this
palace of his choice, so he exercises his sovereignty

GOD THE CONSOLER. 445

in regard to tlie time and the degree of his joy-
giving disclosures. There are various stages of ad-
vancing comfort, and sometimes there are decays
and eclipses of the beatific light. Nevertheless, the
Spirit of grace, by whom we are sealed unto the
day of redemption, is never absent, and never in-
accessible. It is sometimes his pleasure to shine
forth with splendour from amidst the tempestuous
cloud ; and his chief triumphs of consolation often
gleam from the falling ruins of his frail sanctuary, in
the hour of dissolution. Happy would it be for us,
if we could always maintain an unwavering persua-
sion as "^o the reality and the greatness of this in-
habitation of God through the Spirit. It would
confer a dignity of which we now know too little
upon the whole tenor of a Christian life. Tempta-
tion would be disarmed by the sense of such a pre-
sence, and we should tremble at the thought of
grie\dng one so great and yet so near. The current
philosophy of this world disallows the existence of
aU these spiritual facts, which are matters of pure
revelation, and loves to dwell in the realm of bare
phenomena, seemings, or appearances. Yet to one
whose mental eye has been purged of its film, and
who is raised "above the stir and smoke of this dim
spot, which men call earth," there is nothing more
substantially true than the reality and presence of
this divine and blessed Paraclete. And when by
long habits of holy contemplation the human spirit
has acquired the sacred art of turning inward, re-
sorting to the most holy place, and consulting the

446 CONSOLATION

Urim and Tliummim of divine communications, these
trutlis begin to establish themselves as articles of
faith, sources of 2:)eace, and principles of action. Can
we then too earnestly crave the j)resence of the Com-
forter in our souls ? Or can we any longer be in-
different to the means whereby we may receive
more of his consoling suggestions ?

When we spoke of Divine Truth, as an instru-
ment in the hand of the Spirit, for the accomplish-
ment of his work, we really indicated one of the
principal ways in which to seek this great blessing.
If we would be comforted, we must seek it by the
truth. The Comforter is the Spirit of Truth. The
consoling process is carried on by the application of
truth. In all which we find a very strong argu-
ment for making ourselves early familiar with the
Scriptures. Afflictions come with so little warn-
ing, that it is a part of our Christian forecast to
have knowledge in store, against the time of need.
Our very acquaintance with the Divine Consoler
himself, is derived solely from the revealed word ;
and there also we learn the methods of Providence
and the grounds of consolation.

If, as has been already observed, the Holy
Spirit works our comfort by means of our sanctifi-
cation, then holiness must be reckoned among the
means of Christian enjoyment, and we should seek
our solace in conformity to God's will. Excluding
every self-righteous or pharisaic assumption on this
subject, we may nevertheless say in a safe sense,
that God will not pour so rich a balsam into an

GOD THE COjSTSOLER. 447

impure vessel. It is no part of his gracious plan to
comfort us in our sins. Tlie very j)ams and fears
into wliich his good providence casts us are occa-
sioned by our delinquencies, and are chastisements
for our faults. The way of return is, therefore, by
the thorny path of contrition and repentance. Nor
do backsliding disciples usually find themselves re-
stored to favour, until they have done their " first
works," and passed afresh through exercises like
those which first brought them to Christ. We may
state the truth therefore with some generality, that
genuine consolation is not to be looked for inde-
pendently of increased holiness.

The conclusion which ought to be drawn is, that
he who leads a worldly hfe under a Christian pro-
fession is in a most unfit state to grapple with great
trials. To him they will be sore surprises, " as snow
in summer and as rain in harvest." They will arouse
him at midnight, as when besiegers suddenly break
upon a city without gates or walls. We have
been called to witness such ex23eriences, when some
poor carnal professor has been driven up from his
resting-place and cast into utter discomfiture. It is
well for such, if the rod in God's hand is made the
means of bringing them back to holy living. For
as it is altogether uncertain in what hour or instant
the dart may pierce us in the most sensitive spot, it
is the part of wisdom to be always in a condition
suited to receive divine communications, and in a
posture in which it shall be easy to roll our burden
on the Lord. And in the very height of afflictive

448 CONSOLATION.

visitations, wlien all God's waves and billows go
over tlie soul, tlie method of seeking relief is the
same; we return to peace only by returning to
God.

Before leaving the means of attaining religious
consolation, we must name the most important of
all. It is indicated in those words of our blessed
Lord : " If ye then, being evil, know how to give
good gifts unto your children; how much more
-:hall your heavenly Father give his Holy Spirit to
them that ask him?" (Luke 11 : 13.) It is dif-
ficult to conceive of greater encouragement to pray
for this gift than is afforded by this promise of our
Lord Jesus Christ. The comparison which he uses
goes home at once to the parental heart. The be-
nefit which he offers is plainly exhibited as the great-
est ; for, indeed, if God gives us his Holy Spirit, he
gives us all that is requisite to our comfort here and
our salvation for ever. " Blessed be the God and
Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, which according to
his abundant mercy hath begotten us again unto a
lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from
the dead, to an inheritance incorruptible and unde-
filed, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for
you who are kept by the power of God through faith
unto salvation, ready to be revealed in the last time,
wherein ye greatly rejoice, though now for a season,
if need be, ye are in heaviness through manifold
temptations."

THE END.

S