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A DOOR OPENED

Behold, I have set before thee a door opened, which none can shut.

ALEXANDER McKENZIE

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BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY

L TWO COPIES RECEIVED

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COPYRIGHT, 1897, BY ALEXANDER McKENZIE
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

LC Control Number

tmp96 029038

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TO

KENNETH AND MARGARET

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I GIVE THIS BOOK

• CONTENTS

Page

I. A Door Opened 1

II. The Throne of Grace 21

III. The Royal Bounty 37

IV. The Chief Point 55

V. The Comforter, even the Holy Spirit . . 75

VI. The Grace of the Touch ..... 93

VII. The Wheels and the Spirit . . . .111

VIII. The Place of the Branch .... 129

IX. The Story of a New England Church . 149

X. The Place of the Prayer . . . . 179

XI. The Virtue of Clean Hands .... 199

XII. The Man and the Vote . ... . . 215

XIII. The Sailor-Man 231

XIV. Mending, Launching, and Following . . 251
XV. The Christian Mysteries 269

XVI. The Song in a Strange Land . . . . 291

I

A DOOR OPENED

Reveiation iii. 8

A DOOR OPENED

The words concerning the open door are from
the last book of the Bible. The thought which
they express could have been taken from any one
of the books ; for it is the vigorous, pervasive
truth which is declared by Prophets and Apostles,
and most of all by the Lord Himself, that God is
stronger than any man, and that his strength is
pledged to our advantage. It seems a common-
place assertion as it is made in this form ; but the
right apprehension of it is by no means common-
place. The right use of it would give to our life a
vigor and constancy which would enable and enno-
ble it through all its course. But in these words
which a man heard when he was a prisoner with a
free spirit the strength of God is seen more
clearly, and not as a force which overpowers every-
thing before it and compels the results which it
desires. It is seen in its intelligence, recognizing
its own previous work, and keeping faith with
itself and with the men whom it has made and
endowed. It recognizes human character and lib-

4 A BOOB OPENED

erty. Hence it does not abandon men, as if they
were to live alone ; nor does it drive them, as if
their freedom were a fiction and delusion. It re-
spects manhood, and pays its homage to the impe-
rial gift which makes a man the child of God, par-
taking of his nature, with his will incarnate in the
life. It sees before him a possible destiny of
honor and wealth, and offers him, not compulsion
that he must secure this, but opportunity that he
may possess it. It places before him an open door
which neither he nor his fellows could have opened,
" and no man can shut it." The picture is digni-
fied and simple. Whatever shuts a man out from
his true career, from the high estate for which he
was created, has heard the commanding voice of
the Most High : " Lift up your heads, O ye gates :
and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors." To man
He saith, " Enter ye in." Thus liberty is matched
with opportunity. Our glory waits upon our will.

It was so when Christ was here. He was in the
greatness of his strength, yet He did not compel
men to hear Him and to yield to his sway. He
met them with invitation, promise, instruction.
"Never man spake like this man," but it was
speaking. He came into the world as the Word,
and not as the earthquake or the fire. He did not
force those who labored to take his rest. " Come
unto me," He said. He did not drag men in his

A DOOR OPENED 5

train. " Follow me," He said. Light was for those
who would have it ; life for those who would receive
it. He said, " I am the way ; " "I am the door ; "
" Strive to enter in." Sow your seed in good
ground ; this is the good ground. Cast your net
where there are fish ; this is the right side of the
boat. Build your house where it will stand. All
this is opportunity, which each man must improve
for himself. The Lord never forgets who we are.
He does not destroy in the act of saving. He
preserves the manhood in its integrity, and lets it
prove itself. With the earth at the feet of men,
and heaven above them, He made both possible,
but neither sure. " Behold," He saith, " Behold,
I have set before thee a door opened." So much
was certain. The uncertainty was all in this,
whether a man would pass through the open door,
inheriting the earth, the citizen of heaven.

We shall find this principle of life wherever we
go. It is inwrought with the constitution of the
world and its affairs. Every man is glad that it is
so. The one thing which we ask is an opportunity
commensurate with our ability, and this we have.
Certainly we who are here have it in ample mea-
sure. By the labors and gifts, the sacrifices, the
prayers of good men in many generations, the
University opens and holds open the door before
the whole wide world of knowledge. Before we

6 ,1 DOOR Or EX ED

were born the doors were opened, and never have
they been closed. We cannot rell how mueh this
means, nor know how vain and baffled were our
endeavors, how hopeless our ambition, how fettered
our aspiration, were it not for that which other
hearts have desired, and other hands than ours
have wrought. The University can do little more
than to broaden the doors, and keep them open
dav and nio*ht. This she will do. and nothing;
shall hinder the willius; feet from crossing the
threshold, the willing mind from ^atherins; the
treasure beyond. She does not bestow learning ;
she grants the opportunity of acquiring it. She
points to her beaten path which leads among the
stars, and bids men mount up and dwell with truth.
The University is not a shop for selling knowledge.
nor a factory for weaving it into cloth which can
be cut in pieces and fashioned into garments ;
knowledge is not a commodity which can be so
dealt with. It is the door, the opened, open door
through which desire and diligence can pass. In
the enlargement of these later years this has been
made more true, as there has come to be less con-
tent with the transmitting of information from
memory to memory, less belief in the impartation
of facts, and a larger purpose to let every man
work out his own education ; and now the chief
thing which is offered is the opportunity to get
what we ought to have.

A DOOR OPENED 1

The words of the open door are to be taken in
the broadest sense. Special schools may open the
way to special departments of truth. More than
that must be done here. The name we bear re-
quires it. University is a very large term. It
is not an angle, but a circle. Its circumference
touches the universe of truth, and is broken into
doors. The word of which we are fondest and
proudest, setting it at the centre of the seal, stands
in its wholeness, an undivided, unbounded Veritas,
— a word so large that it takes three books to
hold it, and the three stand for the whole. To this
liberal plan of work every department is devoted ;
with how high spirit and generous effort and schol-
arly purpose need not be told here. The present
is not more indebted to the past than the past to
the present. No instructor draws a line around
his teaching, to shut it in from the greater world
of truth, or to shut out the truth which has a right
to enter his domain. The breadth of learning finds
its expression in the correlation of studies and in
the genial fellowship of scholars. Oldest and
youngest, we stand together upon an untraversed
field, whose lines are lost in the distant and bound-
less heavens. It is this which gives dignity to our
common work, and warrants the belief that we
shall move on with the process of the centuries.
If these things are true, it is clear that there must

8 A DOOR OPENED

be a place within, or beside, or beyond every de-
partment of the University, in which the most seri-
ous themes of life can be studied, as well as others,
and the most sacred interests regarded : in which
a man can seek and find the highest truths which
concern him ; can know God, his Father, who
desires to be known; and himself, the child of
God; in which divinity and humanity, time and
eternity, life and immortality, duty and conscience,
can be thought upon reverently, faithfully, as doth
become a man. These are not the special studies
of a theological school alone, but the studies for
every school and for every scholar. What were
thought which does not think of God ; knowledge
which does not know Him; life which does not
live in the life and light of the world ? How can
we respect the science of mind wThich leaves out
the one mind which is perfect and supreme ; or
the science of things which does not reach beyond
everything which we can handle to Him whose
hands fashioned the heavens and the earth ? How
shall we revere the study which stops while there
are grave questions which can be answered, and
larger truths which can be known ? If it be im-
practicable for every lecture-room and laboratory
to teach the name and method and purpose of Him
by whom all things consist, then is it imperative,
for the sake of liberal learning, that there be some

A DOOB OPENED 9

place where this advanced work can be done, and
that the place draw every teacher and scholar to
itself. Therefore in this group of buildings this
Chapel stands in its own right. Among the multi-
tudinous studies the teachings of this house belong.
Everyman needs that which it is the design of
these services to provide, needs to enter and fre-
quent the realm of spiritual truth which invites
the man who himself is spirit, where he can see
God manifest to man. There is no compulsion to
hear, still less to accept, still less to employ that
which is spoken. But there is the opportunity.
" Behold," He saith, " Behold, I have set before
thee a door opened."

But this is not the only purpose for which this
house and these services stand. They are not for
learning alone ; not learning and conduct com-
bined make up the whole duty of a man. Learn-
ing, when it is free, rises into worship. Conduct,
untrammeled, becomes communion with God. It is
the becoming recognition of our relation to Him,
of our dependence which is complete, and of his
benefits which are constant, to live as in his pre-
sence and to begin every day with the distinct
thought of God. We must do this when alone.
But it is a good thing for us who live together to
come up to his house in company, to read his word
in unison, to utter our common prayer for the day

10 A DOOR OPENED

into which we are venturing'. To this high act of
the spirit which is the man we are called. Into
this worship the door is open. To the willing,
waiting mind God delights to reveal himself, spirit
to spirit, that we may walk in the light, children
of the light, and in " the power of an endless life."
It is in keeping with the purpose of this Univer-
sity, from the day when that young Puritan min-
ister who sits yonder beneath the open heavens
lifted his eyes from his book to found a house
wrhere books should have their home and do their
work, to this day when the great questions of life
are receiving new attention and the problems of
conduct are solved in charity and faith, and there
is no limit to our thought and hope, — it is in
keeping with our original and unalterable purpose,
that Christianity, in its largest meaning and closest
application, should have our devout and studious
regard. Something is due to our origin and our
commission ; to intelligence and uprightness. The
province of Religion has widened till it is no
longer a system whereby the confiding can in the
world to come escape perdition and attain to par-
adise. It does indeed make the future sure and
safe ; but it does this by making the present wise
and dutiful. Religion believes in to-day, teeming
with its necessities ; in this world of God, where
the divine life has been made visible. It is here

A DOOR OPENED 11

first that God reveals himself to men. It is here
first that men must see Him, hear Him, enter into
his decrees. The words which name and define
spiritual things, that is, real things, lasting things,
should be in the warp and woof of every man's
language and living, every man's ; surely of every
man in a college with its vigorous life, its uncom-
mitted thought, its open mind and heart. In the
studious retirement of these days, apart from the
excitements of the outer world, we have leisure for
all which greatly concerns us, and hospitality for
all truth and duty. We may furnish ourselves
completely for the work which waits for us ; which
claims, as never before, the stout hands and large
hearts of men who have a broad education and a
liberal training in the things which the world,
the stricken, impoverished, blind and blundering
world, needs the most, far, far the most. We
ought so to live and think that the world will feel
the beneficent impulse which moves along these
walks and issues from these doors and brings the
kingdom of heaven nearer to the earth. We
ought so to think and speak, to teach and learn,
that good men without the gate shall lift up their
eyes in confidence to these consecrated halls. We
might even now give courage to those who are
fighting the battle of right against wrong, and
struggling for the good against the forces of a

12 A DOOR OPENED

naughty world ; and carrying the kindly light, the
immortal life, over sea and land. Here is our
opportunity, to which our future turns. All this
we might do. " Behold," He saith, "Behold, I
have set before thee a door opened."

It is not the design of the College services to
make a defense of Christianity, but to proclaim its
truths and to administer its grace. Some things
are settled. Two hundred and fifty years must
have accomplished something in the knowledge of
truth which needs neither undoing nor unlearning.
Some things are of interest for what they are in
themselves ; some for the work which they do.
These interests are combined in Christianity. If
a long and eventful history is fascinating, the his-
tory of Christianity exceeds in fascination. If
philosophy employs the high faculties of the mind,
the philosophy of Christianity engages those which
are highest. If the study of morals is profitable,
the ethics of Christianity grant a larger reward.
If daily duties, and the relations of man with man,
and the complex requisitions of society require
continual study and offer a recompense, much more
does Christianity claim attention for the laws of
personal and social life which it presents. If the
ministration of that which is of the earth is good,
the ministration of the heavenly is glorious.

Think of the history which is before us. In a

A BOOR OPENED 13

village of an obscure province a child was born for
whom the inn had no room, the world no care.
The day of that birth has become the new starting-
point for all civilized life. Not from the building
of the earth, or the founding of a city, do men
reckon the years, but from the coming of Him
whose name in this remote century is emblazoned in
these windows ; from whose coming the nation dates
its treaty and the school its diploma. The most
significant fact in the newspapers of the world is
in the few figures underneath the title. Here is
something to be understood and accounted for, —
who He was, why He came, what He did, by what
means He gained the place He holds ; what lessons
He left, what duties cluster around his precepts,
what hopes wait upon his promises. These things
intelligent men must know. Break the rocks,
search the stars, measure the forces of nature, ex-
plore the mind of man ; but above all things know
Him from whom the lines of our life run out, by
whom our thoughts are held. This is for every
man, like the alphabet and the Golden Eule. Se-
lection does not reach so far as this. The elective
system pauses on the confines of this theme. This
is not one of many provinces in which we can
choose our home. It is the one sky, the one light,
the one atmosphere over and around all the pro-
vinces, in which all true things grow and are glad.

14 .1 DOOB OPEXED

This is not one piece of knowledge. It is the
fabric of all liberal knowledge, and belongs in
every scholar's endeavor, in every scholar's wealth.
There is more than enough in that which has been
wrought under this new name and new date to
enlist the thought of every one who cares for men,
wrho would know their governments, their litera-
ture, their science, who cares for the most sacred
things of life. Where, save under this name, is
humanity respected, and liberty maintained, and
the will of the people made the law of the land ?
These are not dogmas. They are the facts of
human experience, of which the large-minded
scholar must make account, and he can. do it
here.

The work is more personal. It is not the study
of externals and generalities. Here is a principle
of life claiming a divine origin, and consenting to
be proved by its works. Wherever this finds a
man he grows in stature. He feels the thrill of a
new force. He becomes purer, stronger, kinder.
He is inspired for heroic, unselfish deeds. The
spirit which he is asserts itself and rules over him.
He walks with God, and has an immediate immor-
tality. Fast as men feel this society becomes
better ; evil disappears and righteousness possesses
the earth. I know but too well the wrong things
which have been done in this name. Even bearing

A BOOR OPENED 15

these, the record is a surpassing witness to the
power of the new life. It is not for a mere belief,
or a mere admiration, that the divine life comes to
us. It lays its precepts upon us, and summons all
men to the doing of its will. It demands confidence
because it is true and obedience because it is right.
"The words that I speak unto you," He said,
" they are spirit and they are life." It is not an
arbitrary authority, the rule of the strongest. It
is the supremacy of the best; and the best in a man,
in a world of men, has the right to rule. This is
spiritual truth and spiritual force, and the only
response is spiritual life. We may worship in
Jerusalem and build an altar on Gerizim. But
trusting in neither mountain can a man rise to the
height of his own best life. In spirit, in truth, the
man may worship God, life answering to life, love
commingling with love, the divine with the divine.
The door is open here.

Every day is holy to the holy man. Every hour
is sacred to him when life is sacred ; the evening,
when the work of the day is done and in the
consciousness of fidelity the workman takes the
rest God gives to his beloved ; the evening of life,
when the years are spent and the days are counted ;
when the memory of work cheers the tired heart
and is the presage of reward. Sacred is the morning
of life, when the weapons are all unbroken and the

16 A BOOB OPENED

shield unscarred, and the heart beats high in the
assurance of conquest. It is the time for worship
and for consecration to the best. Sacred is the
morning of the day, when the eventful hours wait
with their claims and chances, the seedtime of years
which are to be ; when so much of eternity is to be
lived before sunset. Let us pray at evening. Let
us pray in the morning, alone, in company, going
apart from our common ways, in quietness lifting
up the heart and voice. A day is blessed to its end
whose beginning is with God. The word lingers
in the mind, the song enters into the work, the
prayer keeps the earnest soul with Him who " is
never so far off as even to be near." All this is
possible. " Behold," He saith, " Behold, I have
set before thee a door opened."

There are open doors which we have no power to
enter. There are opportunities which are but a
name. This is not of them. The artist is allowed
to copy the painting of a master, yet he cannot do
it. Nothing is lacking to the permission, but the
picture does not come. The divine Child remains
in his mother's arms, the transfigured Christ treads
upon the clouds. Not so is it when God gives us
permission to live. The word is with power, as
when He said " Let there be light." No delusion
is concealed in the commandment, no disappoint-
ment lurks within the proffers of the gospel. We

A DOOR OPENED 17

can know. We can do. We can be. God is
before us. " I have called thee," He saith, and
" Behold, I have set before thee a door opened."
We do not flit among the flowers, or pillow our
head upon their fragrance. We enter into them
and see the providence which clothes the grass.
We do not rise to the under surface of the stars.
We are admitted among them, where the heavens
are telling his glory. Let us move on. It ill
becomes us to despair, standing here, with know-
ledge and duty hallowing the ground. Far as study
will take us let us go : far out to the probabilities
which thought suggests, to the possibilities it hints
at: and beyond all these to that serener clime
where the possible and probable yield to the veri-
ties : where He lives who is the Light. We honor
what we know by learning more. We honor our
teachers by pushing out along the way in which
they have started us. We fulfill our life when we
are one with Him who said, " Because I live ye
shall live."

In the pavement of Westminster Abbey you may
find a group of stones which bear the names of men
who by their own merit have won a resting-place
beside kings. They crowned themselves. One
walked among the stars. One searched the Scrip-
tures. One went forth to save a stricken land.
Of these three each could have been a pagan and

IS A DOOB OPENED

have worked as a pagan. But for the fulfillment
of their life they needed a larger intelligence, a
profounder purpose, a higher, purer inspiration.
They called themselves after Him whose name is
Truth. Herschel broke through the inclosure of
heaven and saw the hand which holds the stars.
This, not less than this, was Astronomy. Trench
learned of God from the Son of God, and of man
from the Son of man, and of the stars from the
student of the stars, and he became the instructor
of men. This was Scholarship. Livingstone
learned from Herschel and Trench, and from their
Master, and went out to break the bonds of the
slave, to illumine the dark continent, to "heal the
open sore of the world." This was Philanthropy.
Take from these men what Christ and Christianity
directly gave to them, and something remains ;
but not an ample knowledge, not an accurate
scholarship, not the brave life which makes that
central grave a shrine. They entered into life by
the door which God had opened and they saw the
things which are beyond the portal. Through the
opened door passed the greatest of the three, the
Scotch missionary, longing for service, intrepid,
faithful : to whom the end came as he knelt in an
African's hut, and threw his arms upon the bed
before him, and talked with God, and entered into
light while the candle at his side glimmered in the

A DOOR OPENED 19

loneliness. He passed through the door and walked
in paradise.

Oh my brothers, it is this which makes life !
Why should we halt when every great voice calls
us on? Take all of good which is offered you.
But pass on, beyond all which men can say, into
that broader world of truth and duty, where God
Himself bears rule. " Behold," He saith, " Behold,
I have set before thee a door opened."

II

THE THRONE OF GRACE
Hebrews iv. 16

THE THRONE OF GRACE

The " throne of grace " is an expression less fa-
miliar to us than it was to our fathers. It is pecul-
iar and full of meaning. The two principal words
are not commonly associated. A throne is a place
of authority which is to be obeyed. Grace is favor
which is to be received. Duty is usually thought
to be distinct from privilege, except as privileges
are duties, and opportunities bring obligation.
All language is inadequate to the description of
God. Certainly any king that we know is a poor
representative of the Lord of the whole earth;
while grace, standing by itself, gives an incom-
plete idea of his attitude toward men. The Lord
reigneth, and his throne is from everlasting to
everlasting. Its authority is founded upon its
righteousness. The grace is an important addi-
tion to the throne. It adds nothing to God's pur-
pose, which is from the beginning, but it expresses
the fulfillment of his intent in the act of redemp-
tion. The Eternal Love becomes the Incarnation,
and thus extends to men the fullness of its blessing.

24 THE THRONE OF GRACE

To come to the " throne of grace " is to come to
God who has loved us. and has come to us that He
might bring us to himself.

Herein is a revelation. We clearly discern the
eternal compassion which comes into the world to
seek and to save. We have seen the grace here ;
its name upon the earth is Christ. He is the
grace of God. Now unchanged He is enthroned,
and because of this the throne of heaven is the
throne of grace. Men came to Him boldly when
He was upon the earth, bringing their varied wants,
and none of them were sent empty away. His
power was always one with his mercy, and He gave
what men needed to receive, crowning all his com-
passion by giving himself to the world He loved.
It was in this beneficence and holding this com-
passion that He ascended to heaven, where He
ever liveth to give grace to those who come to Him,
to help them in their time of need. TTe have a vivid
presentation of this when Stephen, waiting in the
presence of death, looked up into heaven and saw
the glory of God, and Jesus standing on the right
hand of God ; and as they stoned him, he cried,
" Lord Jesus, receive my spirit ! " This is the
illustration of the words of the unknown writer :
" Let us come boldly unto the throne of grace, that
we may obtain mercy and find grace to help us
in time of need.''

THE THRONE OF GRACE 25

But it is to the " throne of grace " that we are to
come. The place is distinct. It is not a throne, or
the throne of heaven, or the throne of Jehovah
which is presented to us, but the " throne of grace."
The confidence which should bring us to the throne
in boldness is not confidence merely in the good-
ness of God and his general interest in men, and
his eternal affection for them, but it is confidence
in God, who has in a distinct way made his com-
passion known, and made it effective to meet all
the wants which are presented to Him ; for it pleases
Him to make known his love most clearly, and to
reveal his mercy most plainly, and to help men
most fully through Him in whom He came into the
world. It should not need to be repeated that
there is no change in himself, but only this out-
reaching of his compassion. What He may do for
men who do not know this coming of God to the
world, or for those who, knowing it, pass it by that
they may come to Him without regard to his com-
ing to them, no one can say. The uncovenanted
mercies are neither to be described nor determined.
This we know, that He has come to us in his Son,
in whom the eternal compassion accomplishes its
intent, so that his throne becomes the " throne of
grace," that is, the throne of Christ ; and they
who come to the " throne of grace " find the eter-
nal mercy in its highest revelation and in its di-

26 THE THE OX E OF GRACE

vinest thought of man. Let me give a very crude
illustration of this : In talking with a sea-captain
a few weeks ago, he told me of a fearful disaster
which befell his ship and made her helpless in
mid-ocean, and imperiled all the lives which were
in his care. He did all that he could do for them,
and for the ship. He knewr that he needed to be
helped. He searched the horizon if anywhere he
might see a passing ship. One came in sight, but
went on its way, regardless of his signals. With
deepened anxiety he looked again, and all who
were with him looked. Another ship appeared.
Again the signals were thrown up, but for a time
they were unheeded. Presently the distant ship
turned and began to approach the wreck. Then
they knew that they were saved. There was no
change in the ship or in the man who governed it.
The only change was that she had turned to the
men who needed her and who had cried out for
her succor. She was the same ship, but in the act
of turning she became the ship of grace. Do not
press my poor story too far ; but God has turned
to us, in his eternal love He has come to us, and in
this coming his grace becomes real, mighty to save,
and the throne of the Eternal is made the " throne
of grace." Well may we heed the simple teaching
of a man whose name we do not know, and " come
boldly unto the throne, unto the throne of grace,

THE THRONE OF GRACE 27

that we may find grace to help us in our time of
need."

I do not wish to enter upon any consideration of
the relation between the Father in heaven and the
Son of man. Many things might be said, but I
leave them for the present. Yet this practical
truth should be clear in our thought and constant
in our action, that the love of God is at its best in
his grace, and that his grace is in his Son, who
loved us and gave himself for us. So that evi-
dently, if we would come to the grace of God for
help, the shortest and plainest way is the way that
leads us to Christ, who is the grace, where to our
mind and heart God is nearer than anywhere be-
side.

It is evident that we are always in need of help.
This is in the very construction of our being. It
is not power alone we need, it is help ; which does
not come to lessen our work, but to enlarge and
exalt our strength. As civilization advances, de-
pendence upon others is more manifest. The sav-
age easily fashions a hut for himself, but when he
has risen in intelligence he needs the architect and
builder, and many men who shall make his house
complete. His form of government is simple and
easily administered ; as he rises government be-
comes more intricate and his system of finance
more inexplicable. Hence we find everywhere spe-

28 THE THBONE OF GRACE

eialists, men who work on extended but attenuated
lines. Under this system every man becomes the
helper of others, and every man needs to receive
an assistance which balances that which he be-
stows. So that we may say that dependence is the
basis of advance, and that to do our best work and
make the most of life we must be helped. It is
natural to say this in the presence of students,
who by the very fact of their being here confess
themselves unequal to the life to which they aspire.
They look to older men and wiser men, saying:
" We wish to do our work in the world, but we do
not know enough. We are not strong enough. Tell
us what you know. Teach us your methods. In-
spire us with the vigor of your lives." This de-
pendence will remain so long as they continue to
do good work in the world. We might define
man as a person who must be helped. This rule
is too evident and too common to be limited. We
come very early where we need more than the help
of our fellows. We need the help of God. He
gives us our natural powers. He sustains them,
as the sun sustains the light ; for if the light parted
from the sun it would lose itself. Light cannot be
left at your door every morning, as the tradesman
leaves his wares, but must be continually shining
upon your path and into your house, or you will
lose it all. If you doubt this, some day when your

THE THRONE OF GRACE 29

room is very bright close all the shutters and try-
to keep the light as the winter's supply of illumi-
nation. In ceasing to be helped, you will cease to
possess what you have received before. God must
be continually giving to us. Life is ordered upon
this plan. Our constitution shows this need. The
Holy Scriptures declare it. It has the manifest
advantage of keeping our minds gratefully and trust-
fully upon God. As our mutual dependence fos-
ters friendship and affection, makes society possible
and pleasant, so does our dependence upon God
promote and enrich our spiritual life. We can
never think of God as in any sense dependent,
except as He may choose to be. Yet in a very real
way He does depend upon us and employ us. When
He wants his child nurtured and instructed, He
places him in the care of a father and mother who
will be glad to do this for Him. He gives his
teaching through the lives of men ; He proclaims
his loving-kindness, not by angels descending from
heaven, but by men and women who go into all
the world proclaiming the good news of God.
Thus, while making use of us, He carries his love
the further, and allows us to call upon Him for his
assistance, not to remove our work, but to enable us
to do it and to accomplish the purpose of our being.
It is this desire to help us because He loves us
which brings into the world the divine grace which

30 THE THRONE OF GRACE

we name Christ, who does not come to conceal the
Father, but to reveal Him ; who is not here to
compel us, but to assist us ; who indeed brings
fullness of rest and strength, but who offers these
to all who come to Him, who in the coming shall
find grace to help. There is an evident advantage
in having the grace of God thus clearly mani-
fested to us, for we know Christ. We have seen
Him. We have looked day by day upon his help-
fulness. We know the method and the spirit of
his kindness, and when we come to Him we come
boldly, because it is not to a stranger, but to one
whose good will has been proved to the uttermost,
and who has taken to himself the fullest power
and right to help us to the largest blessings of the
love of God. We come to Him, then, and, com-
ing, find the eternal grace. He taught us that
this was his place. More than any other He
seemed to disown himself; He said He could do
nothing apart from the Father who had sent him ;
that his life was only to do the Father's will. This
was so complete that He spoke the words which
have sometimes confused while they should always
convince, " He that hath seen me hath seen the
Father." He taught us to come to Him for the
divine blessing. He claimed the authority to
teach, and in all ways to help. He said the Father
judgeth no man, but hath committed all judgment

THE THRONE OF GRACE 31

to the Son ; that men should honor the Son even as
they honor the Father. He saw in the temple men
who had exhausted the power of their religion to
help them, and on the great day of the feast He
cried, " Come unto me. If any man thirst, let him
come unto me and drink." He made that sublime
declaration, " I give unto men eternal life." He
paraphrased the twenty-third Psalm, which He had
learned at his mother's knee, when she interested
Him by telling Him it was his grandfather's hymn.
It was after this manner that He repeated it : "I
am the Good Shepherd, ye shall not want. I will
make you to lie down in green pastures. I will
lead you beside the still waters. Yea, though you
walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
you need fear no evil, for I am with you. My rod
and my staff shall comfort you." He even added
what had not entered into the thought of the first
Psalmist, the promise which exalts and glorifies
the Psalm, "I will give my life for the sheep."
He let men come to Him and remain there. I be-
lieve that He never pointed men away from him-
self. When a young man asked Him what he
should do to have eternal life He answered, " Come,
follow me." When a man was dying at his side,
bewildered by the pains of crucifixion, appalled at
the future opening before him, and turned to Him
for help, He let the dying man commit himself to

32 THE TIIROXE OF GRACE

his compassion : " I shall be in Paradise to-day,
and yon shall be with me." He said, " I, if I be
lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto
myself." Only He could say these things. When
a man in his fear came to the apostle in the prison,
and prayed to be told what he must do to be saved,
St. Paul pointed him to One who is able to save
men. If Christ had been there He would have
pointed him to no one. He would have drawn him
to himself, and saved him there. We may wonder
what would have happened if those who came to
Christ had passed Him by and sought the more
distant help, if the ruler whose daughter was
nigh to death, and dead, had prayed to the God of
Abraham for her life ; if the sailors in their sink-
ing boat had cried to Him who holds the sea in the
hollow of his hand ; if the blind man had turned
his sightless eyes towards the sun crying for light ;
if the sisters of Bethany had prayed to God in his
high heaven. We do not know what the result
would have been ; but this we know, that the
prayer to Him restored the girl to her home,
quieted the storm, saved the ship, gave sight to a
man born blind, brought the Resurrection and the
Life to those who loved Him.

Can we not learn the way of the divine help, and
see that it does not stand aloof from us, but comes
nigh to our door ; that we have not to seek it as if

THE THRONE OF GRACE 33

it were far away, but to receive it as it comes
seeking and saving us ; for our seeking is but
receiving ? We call upon Him when He is near and
here where we stand, where we kneel, we find that
He will abundantly pardon. We are indeed told to
ask, to seek, to knock, but his asking is before ours,
and because of his call upon us, we call upon Him.
We knock at his door, but there is another word :
" Behold, I stand at the door and knock." To hear
his voice and open the door is to bring Him in, where
He will sup with us and we shall sup with Him.
We cannot feel deeply enough how strongly and
constantly, with what passion and desire, with what
importunity of love, He longs to help us in our
life. Why should any one forget this, or refusing
to see how truly He comes to us in his Son, who
has all authority to bless us in the name of God,
out of his own unsearchable riches, address himself
to the King, eternal, almighty, invisible, who from
his throne governs the universe ? He is nearer to
us than that. He is more than king ; He is our
Father. He is more than our Father in heaven ;
He is our Father upon the earth. He is more than
help ; He is " a very present help," and He stands in
the greatness of his affection, stands so near to us
that our whisper can reach his ear, that our out-
stretched hand can fall into the hand of almighty
strength and everlasting love*

34 THE THRONE OF GRACE

I speak lightly of no man's religion. It is too
sacred. But to me the most pitiful thing which is
known by that name would be to see a man who has
looked upon Christ our Saviour, who has heard his
words, who has marked his compassion, who has felt
the glory and the sweetness of his presence, pass
Him by to find elsewhere the help which He came
to bring, and lived and died to make possible for
us. We cannot do so. We know that life of mercy.
We are familiar with that face radiant with its
kindness. The tones of the voice linger upon the
ear, " Come unto me, all ye that are in need ; come
unto me." And the bidding would detain us, if we
had the heart to pass Him by. We come to Him.
We come boldly, for we are certain of his care for
us. We come boldly, for He invites us, and we
have known, and those whom we honor most have
known how true it is that He is strong to bless. We
come boldly, whatever be our want. Hungry and
athirst, we call upon Him. Weary, we rest in Him.
Uncertain, we confide in his wisdom. With our
vision dimmed, we walk in his light. Sorrowful,
we ask his solace. Sinful, we pray for his mercy.
Living, we draw from Him our life. Dying, we are
quiet in his resurrection, and in his gift of eternal
life is immortality. We find grace, timely grace,
grace for this world in its common ways and com-
mon wants ; grace for this day with its real neces-

THE THRONE OF GRACE 35

sities and opportunities. We come to Him boldly,
trustingly, constantly ; we wait with Him, content
that eye and heart shall remain with Him. We
are willing that life with all its changes shall
reach us through his compassion, and that eternity,
with all its solemnity, shall find us resting content
in his redeeming love and in his exceeding great
and precious promises. We trust Him steadfastly
to the end. This is our confidence. We stay with
Him. We mark the divine love in Him. We find
all things that we need in Him, and at the throne
of grace, which is the throne of Christ, we obtain
mercy, and find grace to help us in time of need.

Ill

THE ROYAL BOUNTY
1 Kings x. 13

THE EOYAL BOUNTY

The Queen of Sheba came from the uttermost
part of the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon.
She was amazed at all that she heard, and delighted
with all that she saw, and confessed that after the
generous rumors that had reached her in her distant
home the half had not been told her. She brought
her present to him, as was the custom of the times ;
and when she went away she asked a gift of him,
and history says that the king gave her all that she
desired ; and that, having given her everything of
which she had thought, he added something more
of his own thought. He gave her this, not because
she had desired it, but because he had desired it ;
not for her heart's seeking, but out of his heart's
wishing to bestow. This is the simple record:
" And King Solomon gave to the Queen of Sheba
all her desire, whatsoever she asked, beside that
which Solomon gave her of his royal bounty."
These last words describe the added gift, and this
was doubtless the best of all ; that upon which she
would think with the greatest pleasure, and of

40 THE ROYAL BOUXTY

which she would speak with the greatest pride.
The word "royal" is well chosen, for we think of
something which is great when we apply this term
to it, as we speak of a royal deed, royal magnificence,
royal benevolence, royal bounty. We readily ap-
prove the action of the king, for it is this excess of
giving, beyond that which is demanded of us, which
makes the real generosity. We are in the habit
ourselves, so far as we are generous at all, of
reaching beyond the real necessities and requests
of our friends, and giving out of the largeness of
our hearts. There is something in the fruit which
we admire which is more than fruit, and it is this
excess which commands the high price. It is the
added, extraordinary beauty of a painting which
enhances its worth. Some pictures are sold by the
square yard, and some by the inch. It is that
which genius adds which is the royal bounty. . It
marks the difference between genius and talent.
To be what we must, and to do what we must, is
narrow and uninteresting. The man who is just,
and no more, wins our praise for his integrity, but
not our regard for his liberality. There are some
men who would on no account have their measures
in the slightest degree too small, but would be quite
as careful not to have them too large. There is no
reason why justice should not be combined with
charity, and a strict regard for the legal demands

THE ROYAL BOUNTY 41

which are made upon us with the excess out of a
free heart which will make our justice beautiful.
I saw in a fine country town a tall, graceful tree
which cast its pleasant shade upon the path, and I
marked that men had fastened upon it an iron frame
which held a lamp that gave out its light upon the
path. The tree was not the less a tree that it added
the light, and the lamp was not less a lamp because
it belonged to the tree. I came afterward and
found that the bark of the tree had grown up
around the iron where it was fastened to it, till the
frame and the lamp were fairly incorporated in the
tree itself. It is easy thus to enlarge our life,
adding beauty to strength, giving what our heart
desires to give to that which Sheba asks at our
hands. This thought is strongly expressed by St.
Paul, " Scarcely for a righteous man," the man
who does exactly what he ought to do, and nothing
more, " will one die." Yet peradventure, for a
good man, who does all he ought to do, and adds
something because he wants to do it, some would
even give their life. This man appeals to our heart
which is ready to respond. The best things are
indeed only to be given in this way. They cannot
be bought. They cannot be had for the asking ;
such things as confidence, and friendship, and
courtesy, which no statute can demand, but which
the royal heart delights to give ; and there is a

THE EOTA1 BOUNTY

like royalty which is able to receive and prize the
gift.

This is G i*> way. to whom all life is but the
expression of his heart. TTe rej ntinually

in his bountiful goodness. What is the need of
He could have made a strong and honest
th which would take in the seed and give it out
in harvest, and thus we could .: > . bur when He
had made the earth substantial, useful as it is. He
- - -::.-/.— He wished ro give them, was
delighted to look . ... :hem. and knew how happy
we should be who *; blossom by the road-

side. There is no need of birds. The wor]
would go its way. the seasons would ::i_: ■ .:.-
another, the sun would rise and set. the forest trees
would reach up toward the clouds, without them.
God -1 this, and then tilled the quiet woods

with forms of beauty, ai Lged silence into

song. Even heaven itself has more than we should
havelooke:! for J - might have had

a good, delightful heaven. wi:/_ ;;: ::u r sorrow
signing. v-i:h:»u: leath. and such a heaven we
in the vision of the Apocalypse, which

2 ites are pearl, a:: . :\.- -:; :o_ " ■ ;-..!-. whi/r_ :..::::o:

.. gli-ten wi:h jewels. So i: mi^ht have

:: v-i:h :. n^-rment uf this w,_.rld. We

THE ROYAL BOUNTY 43

might have had men to care for us, women to
nurture us, fathers to work for us, a society whose
process might move on with industry and safety
from year to year. But God has added the richer
delights of love and sympathy, of all that we name
friend and friendship. It is in the same way that
He frames his ordinances for us. We could have
had all days alike, but when He had made six good
days He added a seventh which should be wearied
by no work, wherein the soul should be at leisure
to live with itself in quietness, and worship God.
He might have supplied all our wants in the course
of nature, bringing his gifts to our door with reg-
ularity, and we should have lived our appointed
time ; but He does more than this. He lets us
thank Him when we take our daily bread, and
blesses the bread with the love which gives it. He
even lets us tell Him what we wish, and to our
wishes He gives patient heed. He might have left
us to conscience and experience, in the light of
nature to frame our character and our hope, but to
these He has added the thought of other men, the
revelation of his wisdom by his saints, the gift of
his spirit to our spirit, to be in us a continual
light.

There is a very good expression of God's way
of dealing with us in a line of the twenty-third
Psalm, " My cup runneth over." This seems un-

44 THE ROYAL BOUNTY

necessary. To have the cup full, or a little less
than full, is enough for us, and more convenient.
For us, but not for God, who delights in filling it ;
and when we bid Him stay his hand, He keeps on
pouring, and the water flows, till, presently, the
cup is overflowing, not because we thought to have
it so, but because of his great delight in giving ;
until it would seem as if He could not stop, or
content himself with that which He has already
bestowed upon us. Let this stand as a simple
expression of his way with us.

When we come upon anything that all good
men approve, we may be very certain that we have
found something which God himself approves, and
which is in the method of his life. We like,
among ourselves, this principle of the cup that run-
neth over. Our liking for it we have inherited
from God. We might expect, therefore, that when
the Son of God has his life in the world He will
live by this rule, which is of heaven and of earth ;
and it is even so. His first miracle would seem
unnecessary. There have been people who blindly
but honestly wished that He had never wrought it.
Why did He do it if there was no need of it, if it
were even possible that it should be wrested from
its meaning ? He had gone as a guest to a wed-
ding, perhaps because the bride was his friend,
and there came that grave calamity which would

THE ROYAL BOUNTY 45

mar the feast ; for presently it was whispered to
Him, " They have no wine." Surely they could
have a wedding without wine. Not that wedding.
Not in the custom of that time. He knew that
the bride, if she lived to be old, would never
recover from the shame of her wedding-day, whose
beauty was lost. Here was a necessity, in love, in
kindness ; and that the cheeks of this girl might
not redden with shame, He reddened the water into
wine.

He was at Capernaum. They brought to him
a man sick with the palsy. They broke up the
roof, and lowered him to the feet of Jesus, who
knew well what they wanted. He passed over the
little thing which they sought, and, governed by his
own feeling, not by theirs, he said, " Son, be of
good cheer ; thy sins are sent away from thee."
That was enough. In a few days, the man would
be able to walk without his help. Death comes to
the succor of cripples. The man gave no sign of
discontent, but Jesus found that the friends were
unsatisfied, and He thought within himself, " You
brought him here that he might be raised up, and
be made able to carry his bed home. I have done
a greater thing for him, but I will add this which
you want." " Arise," He said, " take up your bed
and go your way." He did the greater work which
made the soul strong, and for the lesser work, —

46 THE BOTAL BOUNTY

well. He threw that in. It was the royal bounty.
There was a time later than that, after his Resur-
rection, when some of his disciples had toiled all
the night upon the sea, and had taken nothing.
He could not have it a fruitless night for them.
In the morning He was there, their risen Saviour,
who might well bestow some spiritual gift becom-
ing to the Resurrection. This He did, but He
said, " Cast your net on the right side of the ship,
and you will find what you have been seeking."
They cast it, therefore, and drew it in, full of fishes,
a hundred and fifty and three. This is the record
of a fisherman, who wrote that the fish were large ;
and of an old man, who remembered the number
of them. They drew their net to shore, and there
was a fire of coals, and fish laid thereon, another
fish. When they had enough, one that was better
than all was added. Have you not sometimes
wished that you could have had that hundred and
fifty-fourth fish ? This was Christ's way all the
while, and is his way still. He fills the net as full
as it will hold, that our life may be sustained, and
then He adds more, that his love may be gratified,
and that which He adds is the " royal bounty.''

The work of our Lord was not merely in meet-
ing the wants of men, but in creating the wants ;
not in gratifying their great desires, but in making
their desires great. His own work in the world

THE BOYAL BOUNTY 47

was twofold : to teach men how much more there
was which they could enjoy, and how much more
there was which He was eager to impart. The
greater the desire, the surer it was that it would be
met by his desire. Indeed, a large desire is neces-
sary to wealth. We must look out toward that
wherein our riches lie. " He who would bring home
the wealth of the Indies must send out the wealth
of the Indies." To him whose desires are allowed
liberty there comes the answer of fulfillment from
" the unsearchable riches of Christ." In all his life
and in all his teachings we see vastly more than
men ever asked, much more than they are willing
to take even to-day. It has often been, as it was
at the first, that " He came unto his own, and his
own received him not ; " but to those who received
Him He gave all they wished, and more than they
had thought ; He gave the right to become the
sons of God. They would have been content with
a greater prophet, a bolder leader, a stronger king,
a Messiah who should enthrone Israel and bring
the nations in homage to its feet. He came bring-
ing God to the world, giving an eternal liberty,
erecting an everlasting kingdom. They wanted
manna ; He gave the Bread of Life. They wanted
wells of water ; He gave the well that should be
within them, springing up for evermore. They
wanted a leader ; He gave a Saviour. They

4S THE ROYAL BOUNTY

wanted man : and He was God. This has con-
tinued even to our time. Many admire Christ
because He was a teacher, neglecting that wherein
He was infinitely more than teacher. They are
glad of an example ; He was that, but, far beyond
it, He was the life whereby righteousness became
possible. There are those who would be content
with his beautiful spirit, his blameless life, his
deeds of charity, his patience, his submission, his
consent to a death which He could not avoid. He
offers to the world the spirit of the Eternal, the
life of God to be lived upon the earth : He lays
down the life which no man could take from him ;
and, with all the roads leading from Jerusalem
open before Him, walks with determined step to
Calvary and the Cross. Beyond that which has
contented many in the world, He gave himself, the
world's Redeemer, the Lamb of God, the Good
Shepherd giving his life for the sheep.

It is very, very sad to mark how ready we are
to measure Christ's gifts to us by our narrow wants
and limited desires : not by the greatness of his

' JO

love, not by his exhaust-less riches, not by the full-
ness of the grace of the Eternal, who is the Father
and friend of all men. If ever we shall pass be-
yond the gratifying of ourselves, and allow Christ
to gratify himself in blessing us, we shall find in a
glad experience what the simple words mean, " I am

THE ROYAL BOUNTY 49

come that they might have life " — Oh, friends,
do not stop there, finish the sentence, — "I am
come that they might have life, and that they
might have it more abundantly." We ask life of
Him, and He gives us life, and offers length of days
forever and forever. We pray that we may live ;
and we set up a goal at seventy or ninety years,
when He draws no line across our path. " I give
eternal life," He says. We pray for help that we
may live ; He offers more than that in the un-
rivaled sentence, " Because I live, ye shall live
also." We think of life as being, and are con-
tent. We use existence as a synonym of living,
but He said, " This is eternal life, to know God,
and me."

So for ourselves ; we are to live as his disciples.
We wish to be true, useful, and generous. We
wish to do in small measure such things as He
did, — in his name to give the cup of water, and
the healing of the sick. He grants all that we
desire, then speaks out of his own heart, and his
desire, " The works that I do shall ye do, and
greater works than these ; " for the miracles which
attract us or baffle us, which draw us to his love,
or possibly turn us from his word, which are only
miracles because they are strange to us, are to
be exceeded in the things which we do, when by
our teaching we open the eyes of men that they

50 THE ROYAL BOUNTY

may see God, and lift them up to the ways of holy
living, and raise them from being into life. Our
visions of heaven in our reverent imagination,
even in the exultant words of the Revelation, are
not equal to the simple truths which He taught,
and men learned to repeat after Him. For what
are golden streets and jeweled walls beside that
which he meant, " In my Father's house are many
mansions." " I go to prepare a place for you."
" Ye shall behold my glory." " Ye shall be loved
as I am loved." The thought of Christ far out-
runs the aspiration of the world, as it comes to us
from the lips of that disciple whom Jesus loved,
" We shall be like him, for we shall see him even
as He is."

What do we need, then ? To enlarge our de-
sires ! Yes, but to consent to God's desires. To
wish for more, but to consent to be blessed as
Christ longs to bless us. We must know the
methods of God, whose will to give is greater and
more constant than our will to receive. We must
adjust our life to God's desire. Faith is the com-
pact of the soul with God, rather than with itself.
" Open thy mouth wide, and I will fill it," is a
promise ever old and ever new. We must be firm
enough and aspiring enough to hold the cup after
it has begun to overflow, and to let God's hand
pour the water of life as long as He will, for this

THE ROYAL BOUNTY 51

world and all the worlds that are to be. If we
could desire more, if we could ascend to God's
desire for us, life would be transfigured.

" The balsam, the wine, of predestinate wills
Is a jubilant longing and pining for God."

" God loves to be longed for, He loves to be sought,
For He sought us himself, with such longing and love."

We wish now to take this method for our own
in all our dealing with God. Our sense of what is
right, the voice of conscience, the commands of
Scripture, call us to our duty. Let us do what
they require till conscience is satisfied ; but let us
add to this more than a rigid obedience asks for,
all that a loving heart, grateful and generous,
wishes to bestow. The little questions of life,
small matters of casuistry, minute affairs of con-
duct, would be quite readily determined if we
would live by this rule, wherewith God blesses us.
That question which with unusual urgency now
presses upon us, how we shall regard the Sabbath
day, would not be difficult if it were our delight
to remember it, and to keep it holy because it
is our delight to please Him who has given to
us its sacredness and blessedness. It is pitiful
when we find ourselves questioning how much of
the day should be holy ; how much of it should be
given to the thought of God and the divine life ;
how much of it we should yield to the holy spirit

52 THE ROYAL BOUNTY

of truth ; how many of the hours we should keep
in the remembrance of Him whose Resurrection
gives to the Sabbath its greater meaning. We
should keep the Sabbath holy as if we desired to
keep it holy. All its hours should be sacred.
They need not be less joyous, less friendly, for
being holy : and we cannot be gratified with the
spirit in which we find ourselves trying to divide
the time. Keep twenty-four hours for God, and if
by any means you can make the time overflow add
a twenty-fifth hour.

We question again about money. What pro-
portion of our property should we devote to God ?
The Jews said one tenth. Can we do no better,
after so long a time ? Let us give the whole, and
if by any means we can compass it, let us add
another tenth, simply to show what a delight it is
to give all things to Him, and to let Him make the
allotment in his care for us, and for our household,
and for the church, and for the wide world that we
are living in. There are many who do this, and
they learn how true is that word of Christ that is
called to mind among the Acts of the Apostles,
" It is more blessed to give than to receive."

Thus, in all things let us make the way of God
our own, become his children entirely, receive the
love of Christ in its fullness, make up our own
life in his name, according to the largeness of his

THE ROYAL BOUNTY 53

thought. If we will consent to it, we can be great
and rich and strong. It seems strange to say that
we are not ready to be blessed, but of many it is
true. They are not willing to be greatly blessed,
to have the cup run over. They are willing
to be useful, but not very useful. They ask to
be set in his service, but when He takes their
word and breathes his own desire into it, they
shrink back. It is a very serious thing, if we
are able to perceive it, to consent that God should
bless us as He pleases, should have his own esti-
mate of our character, his own measure of our
powers, his own vision of our accomplishment, and
should call us to greater service, to diviner em-
ployment, than we have ever dreamed of. It was
a wise woman who said, " I have had to face my
own prayers." We face our prayers when God
gives his own wish to our words, and makes them
large enough to hold his thoughts. It is one of
the hardest things to believe, but one to which, in
humbleness of mind and in a faith which will not
falter, we should consent, — that high word of
calling and consecration which Christ gave more
than once, — " As the Father hath sent me into the
world, even so send I you." Not our thought but
his thought makes our calling, and the thought of
God is the summons and the guidance of our life.
Even so, even according to thy greatness, and thy

54 THE ROYAL BOUNTY

gentleness which makes men great; thine infinite
purposes, and thine eternal grace ; even so, O
Lord of mercy and of truth, send us into the
world !

As we close these thoughts, let us remember that
promise which comes at the close of the Old Tes-
tament, which almost seems to reverse the promise
at the beginning of the Old Testament, "I will
never open the windows of heaven and pour out a
flood again ; " for the last of the prophets brings
to us the word of God, that He will open the win-
dows of heaven, and pour out a flood again. It
shall not come to destroy, but to preserve ; it shall
create life ; it shall enlarge life, but it shall be
after the measure of his will, not ours. " Bring
ye all the tithes into the storehouse, and prove me
now herewith, if I will not open the windows of
heaven, and pour you out a blessing that there
shall' not be room enough to receive it." Not
drops here and there, but showers of blessing.
Not running brooks, but broad rivers. Not pools
of water, but a shoreless sea ; deep, deep waters,
when, looking up into jbhe Infinite Love, and con-
senting to be blessed of God as God would bless
us, we bring all the tithes into the storehouse and
the remainder of the tithes, if any have been left.
" I will pour you out a blessing, that there shall
not be room enough to receive it." Not room
enough to receive it ; that is the royal bounty.

IV

THE CHIEF POINT
Hebrews viii. 1

THE CHIEF POINT

There was a chief point in what the Apostle
said. It was not a collection of words, good words,
religious words, but there was a centre about which
they formed themselves, which gave to them their
character and their value. What he really said
was, The head is this. What the head is to the
body, — giving to it wisdom and force and life, so
that if the head is removed the body has no worth,
— that the meaning of the words is to them. He
has been speaking of the temple, the priest, the
sacrifice, and now he suddenly stops, and says,
" I do not mean these things which I have brought
to your mind, but I mean the heavenly temple, the
great High Priest, the one eternal Sacrifice. Un-
less you apprehend this, the words which I have
spoken may be of no benefit to you."

It is so in most things. Truth and life need to
be embodied. As gold is in quartz, so truth is in
words, feeling in act, reverence in worship, love in
service. The spirit must be clothed in flesh. We
need the skill to discern the real in the formal, to

58 THE CHIEF POINT

look through the things which are seen and tem-
poral and to find the unseen and the eternal. It
is in this gift of discernment that men greatly
differ, some regarding only the outward ; some
caring little for that, except as it holds the reality
which they prize. We may see this in very many
places. Thus, in regard to money. This is not
silver and gold, and property does not consist in
houses and land ; but the value of wealth is in the
life which it contains and in the high uses to which
it can be put. Our Lord himself stated this very
clearly when He said, " A man's life consisteth not
in the abundance of the things which he pos-
sesseth," and in his other words, in which He in-
structed us to lay up our treasure in heaven,
where its spiritual value alone can be invested. It
is for want of the discernment to see this that so
many who have an abundance of things are in pov-
erty, while so many who have a scarcity of things
have a permanent wealth. We may see the same
truth, as has been already suggested, in words,
whose value is not in their letters and syllables,
but in the thought which has been thus expressed.
As a book is not to be judged by its binding, so it
is not to be judged by its sentences, and no one has
taken the value of a book who has not taken into
his mind the thought which it both conceals and
reveals. Clearly it is not reading many books, but

THE CHIEF POINT 59

getting much truth from books, which makes men
wise. The worth of a creed is not in its state-
ments, but in the spirit and life which it con-
tains and gives forth to be the spirit and life of
those who receive it. Even the Bible itself has
not its worth in that which the eye can see, or the
lips can repeat. It is not in reading many chap-
ters, or in holding the Sacred Book for many
hours, that one gets real profit from it, but in
walking by the light which it gives, fashioning the
thought by the truth which it teaches, comforting
one's self with its solace, and encouraging one's
heart with its promises. " The words that I speak
unto you," said the Living Truth, " they are spirit,
and they are life." Again, the Sacraments which
the church offers have not their profit in the forms
in which they come to us. Baptism, while it uses
the water, has its worth in the bestowment of spirit
in spirit ; and in the Holy Eucharist we are to see
more than the bread and the cup, even the life of
the body which was broken for us, and of the blood
which was shed for our redemption.

Life itself does not consist in breathing, nor in
length of days, nor in largeness of work ; but life
is in the spirit which animates it, in the purpose
which governs it, in the truth for which it stands,
in the influence which it exerts and bequeaths.
Hence, a great life can be expressed in very few

60 THE CHIEF POIXT

words. Indeed, a life can hardly be said to be very-
large unless the record of it can be brief. The
recital of its events may fill volumes, but the record
of its intent lies within the compass of a sentence.
If I speak to you certain names, the whole man
comes before you, not indeed with the date of his
birth or the time of his death, but with that for
which he cared, and to which he was devoted. I
say " George Washington," and instantly you think
of him who was first in the hearts of his countrymen.
I say " Samuel Armstrong," and at once you look
upon the soldier and statesman whose life cannot
be removed from the well-being of the republic
which he greatly served.

Experience has different forms, but the purpose
of it as our Heavenly Father gives it to us is one.
In its form it may be bright or dark, and those
looking at the outside of it may call it adversity or
prosperity, and we ourselves may give thanks for
it, or pray for grace to submit to it ; but in all
forms it means our spiritual good. It may add to
the things which we possess, or it may take them
away, but it is the adapting of the wisdom of God
to our condition, and for the results which He
desires to secure. So St. James teaches the man
of low degree to rejoice when he is exalted, and the
man of high degree to rejoice when he is brought
low. But these different directions which Provi-

THE CHIEF POINT 61

dence takes are meant to bring men to the same
point, — as one who is east of a place must come
west to meet a man who from the west must come
east to meet him. It is not of much moral advantage
to make a rich man richer, or a poor man poorer ;
but change, wisely conducted, may work in us the
perfecting of character which all men should desire.
What we need, then, in the changes of life, is the
wisdom to look through them, to find what they
mean, and to take that for our possession.

One more thing may be mentioned in the same
connection ; that is, work. Work is in very many
forms. It requires a diversity of talent and a
diversity of occupation. The professions of life
have great variety. Work is to be judged, there-
fore, not by its name or by its shape, but by the
design which we carry into it. A work which is
ranked as one of high dignity may be lacking in
dignity if it be done from an unworthy purpose,
while the humblest occupation which we enter upon
with a large design will be exalted. A work done
from a selfish motive is selfish work, no matter
what its form may be. It is thus that God judges.
It is thus that men judge. We pay highest honor
to usefulness, and only to usefulness have we thus
far builded monuments ; while highest of all, and
alone worthy of us, is the intent expressed in the
words of St. Paul, " Whether, therefore, ye eat or

62 THE CHIEF POINT

drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of
God." There are diversities of operation, he said,
but one spirit. He had high precedent for this
opinion, when he recalled that to the great work-
men of the church of God inspiration was given for
whatever needed to be done. Moses was inspired
to be the law-giver ; Aaron, the priest ; Joshua, the
soldier ; Bezaleel, to work in gold and in brass ; and
Aholiab in fine-twined linen. It is in this way that
we are to estimate our occupation, — for what am I
working, and what spirit animates my life ? What
will be left when I have deserted my office, my
shop, my house, and with nothing in my hands have
gone on to the Great Day ?

It were very easy to prolong these thoughts ; but
let us go out among the worlds which are around
us. It is a great world that we live in, which God
has given into our keeping, yet is it small before
the worlds which shine in the heavens above us,
which have their brightness far beyond the reach
of our eyes, in the spaces we cannot measure even
with our thought. But what are the worlds, and
what do they mean, and what is their worth ? Are
they simply nebulous dust, compacted into stars, or
into planets which circle around their central suns ?
Is there nothing in them which the eye has not
seen, which the optic glass has not discovered, yet
which can be seen as we take our evening walks as

THE CHIEF POINT 63

truly as when we range the heavens with our
telescope ? It was a wise astronomer who, keeping
watch over his flocks by night, looked up into the
skies, and saw the shining worlds, and saw through
them into the life and thought which gave them
being and beauty. So he sang, in words in which
we still delight, of that which was within the stars,
and within the light which came silently down upon
the meadow. "The heavens declare the glory of
God," and the glory of the heavens was the pre-
sence of God, and he who had not seen this had
seen but the outside of the stars. It were better a
thousand times that one should know that the stars
which he can see reveal the wisdom of God, than
that, not seeing this, he should be able to call all
the stars by their names, and to mark their courses,
binding the bands of Orion, and sending through
the quiet air the sweet influences of the Pleiades.
Beholding the presence of God in the order of the
heavens, that shepherd-astronomer saw the same
orderly method and wise design in the laws which
govern men and mark out their ways, until at length
he was able to pray that he himself might be as
wisely governed as the heavens were. "Let the
words of my mouth be as obedient as the planets,
and the meditation of my heart as pure as the light
of the stars." This was astronomy indeed. The
chief point of the heavens, God ; the chief point of

64 THE CHIEF POIXT

the law of God, in the heavens or upon the earth,
the obedience of men.

If now, drawing down our gaze, we look around
us upon men, we see the forms of them, we dissect
their powers, we study their actions, we listen to
their language, we imagine their destiny. But of
late we have come to think very much of their
origin, from what they sprang, through what forms
of life by slow approaches they have come to be men,
the crowning work of God upon the earth. It is
an exceedingly interesting study, and we cannot
wonder that we have become fascinated with it.
But after all, what is the chief point of it ? We
have found, we say, even now we have found, how
man has come to be the man, and we trace his kin-
ship to the world of life which from the smallest
form has risen to its loftiest estate. But what is
the chief point of it ? After all, standing delighted
in our new opinions, what is a man? Surely, not
anything we see, not that which is born, and moves
about the streets, and wakes, and sleeps, and dies,
and goes back to the earth out of which it came.
That is not man. The chief point of man is in his
spirit, in his soul, in his power to think, to love, to
hold fellowship with himself and with other men,
and with the Maker of all men. The chief point
of man is the breath of the Eternal which has made
him man. The narrative which we read is very

THE CHIEF POINT 65

realistic in its portrayal. In a very simple form,
in a picture which is little more than an outline,
the truth is presented to us, that the Creator has
given to men of his own breath, till they live in the
image and likeness of God. Whatever we know of
a man, we do not know him until we know that by
virtue of which, in whatever way he is related to
other forms of life, he is more closely related to the
Eternal Life which was in the beginning.

It is interesting to know our rise from forms
below us, but it is of much greater moment to
know that we have the life which is from above us.

" Love the inmate, not the room ;
The wearer, not the garb ; the plume
Of the falcon, not the bars
Which kept him from the splendid stars."

More than this we are to know, that the spirit in
which our divine life consists is sustained by the
life of which it is a part, and is constantly rein-
forced by the inspiration of Him who has given us
our being. Life is continually to advance, to in-
crease in power, in aspiration, in accomplishment.
At last it will become so great that this body
which surrounds it is no longer large enough and
will disappear, while the life will go forth in some
new and freer form, to live forever. Certainly,
it cannot be for very long that our enlarging life
can be content with these limits which suffice for

66 THE CHIEF POINT

seventy years. We cannot always spare a third
of our time for sleep, or consent to the infirmities
of age, when " they that look out of the windows
are darkened." Very beautifully did St. Paul
describe this in wTords whose meaning we are
reluctant to perceive. He seems to have viewed
man as living in a house of snow. What other
house could it be which would dissolve ? Where
had he seen snow, unless it were upon the heights
of Hermon, where it lingers through the year?
Though this tent that we are dwelling in upon
the earth shall melt away, when it has melted
away, we have another house to follow it. It
brings up the play of our boyhood, when we
raised our houses of snow, and sat within them ;
but they were cold, they were narrow, we could
move but a step and we touched the walls. After
a time the house melted, but the boy was left out
on the open field where he had room enough ; the
house had melted, not the boy. Day by day this
is going on around us, yet we do not rejoice in the
new liberty, the larger room to live in. We call
it by sad names. We set it in sombre symbols.
It is not strange. Affection is strong and tender,
and we need the companionship of those we love,
and the world is never the same when they have
gone out of it. Let us speak gently of our natural
and sacred sorrows. Yet can we not rise, and even

THE CHIEF POINT 67

through our tears see the chief point, the meaning
of the dissolving of the house? God's angels
come by two and two. To the child of God the
Angel of Death comes in company with the Angel
of Life. Sometimes we open the door and Death
comes in. We close it quickly, leaving the other
without. The dark form sits beside the hearth
and makes the room silent and sad, while Immor-
tality waits upon the outer steps. Perchance,
presently, we open the door again and let him
come in. He brings the intent of God, and we are
comforted. In the thought of God the chief point
of death is immortality. The whole tone of the New
Testament teaching is like this. The life advances
steadily ; at length, in an hour it breaks away and
is free. The victory is won. The trumpets sound,
and in the glorified body the immortal spirit walks
with God.

It is the great sorrow of our heart, its great
burden, that we have so often failed to see the
chief point of our life. Whatever, wherever its
years may be, it is meant that the likeness of God
which was created shall be the likeness of God in
our endless way; that the thought of God shall
be forever the thought of the man, and that he
shall live like his Maker, in righteousness and
love. We have no higher word than godliness.
To be like God in our intention, our will, our

68 THE CHIEF P01XT

Jeed, is the highest attainment which life can
achieve. But this we have not reached. The
consciousness which saddens us, the vision which
every day accosts us as we walk abroad, the daily
knowledge of the world we live in, the refrain of
history for weary centuries, remind us that god-
liness has not been preserved ; that is, that the
meaning of life has been lost, that its chief point
has been missed. Shall it always be so? It is
Christ himself who answers our inquiry, giving
new spirit and form to the promise which from
the first has been the comfort of those who re-
ceived it, and has been expressed in many ways.
Let us recall this, " Thou hast destroyed thyself,
but in me is thy help." The Son of God came
into the world, the incarnate thought and love of
God, to do away our past, to give to us once again
the spirit of the beginning, to enable us to live our
life once more, and to live it truly.

It is interesting to mark that the word which in
the New Testament describes the course of men
and one of the words which in the Old Testament
describes it employ the same illustration. Both are
taken from archery. When in the summer time,
upon the broad lawn of a friend, the target is set up,
and skilled hands are sending the arrows to the
mark, you wish to show your skill. The bow is
placed in your hands, the arrow flies, and the boy

THE CHIEF POINT 69

across the field leaps out of the path of your wander-
ing shaft. What is your first thought ? " I want
to try that again." What is the first thought of
your friend ? " Try again. You will do better
next time." Now, that is what Christ is saying to
us : " You have missed the mark ; you know it, and
I know it, but try again." It is this opportunity
once again to reach the mark, the chief point of
life, which He offers to us. Indeed, it would not
be amiss to say that the gospel of Christ is the
gospel of the second chance. Men have curiously
wondered if there was a second chance in another
world. There, is something much better than that,
a second chance in this world. You do not wish
to wait until next summer to see if you can hit the
shield then. You want to do it this afternoon ;
and it is with this word of immediate opportunity
that the gospel is preached to us. " Now," cries
our friend, the Great Archer, " now, is the accepted
time to try again ! Now is the day to hit the
mark." So prominent was this teaching in our
Lord's life, so constantly did He devote himself to
men who had missed, that it was noticed by those
who were opposed to Him, and presently they fixed
it as a name upon Him, joining it to another name
of reproach. They said He was the friend of pub-
licans and men who had missed the mark, — for this
was the word they used. He did not disown it.

70 THE CHIEF POINT

He said, expressly, " I came not to call men who
have been successful, but men who have failed."
" To repentance," He said ; that is, to a new oppor-
tunity. One day a man wished to see Him very
much, but he was an unpopular man, and deservedly
so, and no one would give way for him. He climbed
a sycamore tree beneath which Jesus was to pass.
He saw the man, called him down, and said He
would go home with him, and as they went away
together proud men who looked upon them said :
" See there ! He is going home to dine with a man
who has missed the mark." It was quite true.

He told of two men both of whom had exercised
themselves in archery, and that they came to give
account of that which they had done. One stood
erect and said, "I thank thee, God, that I have
never failed. My arrow has always gone to the
centre of the shield." Poor fool! He was sin-
cere, I suppose, but the truth was his arrows had
gone so far from the target he could not see where
they had dropped. He supposed they had pierced
the centre. The other bowed his head, and cried
in piteous voice, " God be merciful to me, a man
that has missed the mark ! " And Jesus said, " I
tell you this man went down to his house to try
again, and the other did not." But best of all
these incidents was another that he told of a young
man who wished to go into a far country where

THE CHIEF POINT 71

there was to be an archery meet. He wore his
fine raiment: he carried his best bow; his heart
was full of confidence. After a little he had lost
his arrows, and lost his bow, and he came back.
But as he came he thought within himself what
he would say. " I will say, Father, before heaven,
and in thy sight, I have missed the mark. Let
me be as one of thy hired servants, to make bows
and arrows for better men." But his father saw
him, and interrupted his confession. " Bring out
a bow and give it to him." The brother said,
" But, father, he has had his bow, and missed the
mark." " Bring out the best bow and give it to
him. My boy has come back to try again."

This is Christ's word to us in this gospel of the
second chance, wherein, for our advantage, " now
is the accepted time." Christ has gained for us
the right to try again. He gives to us new strength
and true skill. In doing this He gives himself.
Thus He brings to us success, life, eternal life.
But how does He accomplish this ? By his Incar-
nation. What is the Incarnation? It is the
dwelling of God in a man. What it is no man
can tell. We take gratefully the teaching of the
apostle, that He who was in the form of God,
retaining the divine nature, took on him the form
of a servant and was made man. The Eternal
Word was made flesh and dwelt among us, " full

72 THE CHIEF POINT

of grace and truth." He who learns this has the
chief point of the Incarnation.

He wrought out the redemption of the world.
For this He lived and died and rose again. We
rejoice in the Cross, whereby He has redeemed
men ; but where was the Cross raised ? "We can-
not tell, certainly. On what day did He die?
We say Friday, some say Thursday. On what
tree was He crucified ? Some have imagined it
was an aspen tree, and that it is for this reason
the leaf has trembled ever since. But we do not
know. How, then, not knowing these things,
can we glory in Christ and Him crucified ? Be-
cause these are the forms : but the meaning of
them is not concealed. The chief point is that
He died for us.

In what way was this accomplished ? How7
shall we explain to ourselves all that we name
Atonement ? Good men have reasoned differently
about it. Theories have varied. In the com-
bining of theories we come nearer to the truth :
but when all are said and reasoned about, and we
hold our different minds, still we can take to our-
selves the power of the Atonement, if entering
within all forms we see the chief point, that He is
the Lamb of God, taking away the sin of the
world ; and He is the Good Shepherd, giving his
life for the sheep. But how shall we come to

THE CHIEF POINT 73

Him, and have the benefit of his redemption?
Some are coming as children, drawn by their first
thoughts to Him who took children in his arms
and blessed them. Others come in the strength of
manhood, with great purpose following Him ; and
some by a long and tiresome way, through the
dark out into the light. Is there, then, no one
way ? The chief point of all ways is, coming ;
and he who rests in the redeeming love of Christ
has found the chief point of his redeeming love.
Life then may be long, and full of great events,
the life of a prophet, an apostle ; it may remain a
child's life ; or it may lead through simple, unevent-
ful years ; but it is the Christ-life if it be lived in
the love of Him. That is the chief point.

We have missed, all of us have missed the chief
point of life. Let us not miss the second time.
Of what avail to try further, with the old spirit
and the former skill which have disappointed us ?
Let Christ instruct us. Then shall we come with
a new life, into a new life, till we reach his hea-
ven where there is no temple, for the Lord God
Almighty and the Lamb are the temple of it ;
where there is no need of sun or moon, for the
glory of God doth lighten it and the Lamb is
the light thereof ; where they that have followed
Christ upon the earth shall follow Him whitherso-
ever He goeth, and He shall lead them, and feed

I 4 THE CHIEF POINT

thorn, and their blessedness shall be in the joy of
the Lord : where their glory shall be in his glory,
and the highest prophecy of honor shall be ful-
filled : they shall be like Him, for they shall see
Him as He is. In Him, — not in temple, not in
golden streets, not in jeweled walls, not in gates
of pearl, not in endless song and eternal rest, shall
be the everlasting bliss, but in Him. The chief
point of heaven is Christ. Let us not miss it.
Try again, carefully, skillfully. Let us place our
hand upon the bow underneath his hand, and our
fingers around the string underneath his fingers.
With his strength let us draw. Along the line of
his light let us look. Then the arrow shall fly
from his hand and ours, and it shall reach the
mark.

THE COMFORTER, EVEN THE HOLY
SPIRIT

S. John xiv. 26

THE COMFORTER, EVEN THE HOLY
SPIRIT

We are living in the time of the Holy Spirit,
for God is Spirit, and in his spiritual presence
He fills the world. To this we all assent readily.
The Incarnation is a mystery which we cannot
altogether define, although it is clearly taught and
deeply felt; the presence of the Holy Spirit is
as simple as the being of God. If God is here,
within reach of our worship, and close enough to
be our sun and shield, and good enough to be our
exceeding great reward, it is in this manner of
being, — that is, as spirit, and as the Holy Spirit.
We need not, for our purpose at this time, ex-
amine the eternal nature of the divine being or
seek to comprehend it in its eternal truth, as it is
declared by our Lord in the words with which
Christian baptism is sanctified ; but only consider
the method of the presence of God, as this was
taught by our Lord, and especially in his last hours
with his disciples. He declares it, repeats it, un-
folds it again and again, that when He has left

78 THE COMFORTER, EVEN THE HOLY SPIRIT

the earth the Holy Spirit will come, and will
carry forward the work in which He has laid
down his life and which He has crowned with
his Resurrection. To this end, it was expedient
that He should go away. The world was to be
enriched, not impoverished, by the withdrawal of
himself. It was to have more of the divine pre-
sence and grace. His friends would see Him no
longer, but they would perceive Him, feel his
presence, receive his truth, and be endowed with
his life as never before. To this teaching, so
plainly and repeatedly bestowed, we should give
instant heed, that the full blessing which the love
of God has prepared may be upon us.

We cannot too often think that there is one
God, and that God is one. This is the primal
truth ; and whatever within and beyond this truth
is believed or questioned, this we must constantly
affirm. This is the place for reverent knowledge,
not for curious controversy. The sublimity and
solemnity of the nature of God might well have
united men in patience and in awe. But even the
words of the Son of God have divided the minds
of men, and kept them apart. The time may come
when this will be accounted one of the curiosities
of religious thought.

There are three periods, if this convenient ex-
pression may be used, in the presence of God

THE COMFORTER, EVEN THE HOLY SPIRIT 79

among men. First, He is spirit alone ; thus the
prophets and psalmists knew Him. They looked
upon his works and admired them. They heard
his voice speaking to their hearts. They were
confident of his guidance and help, but they did
not see Him. In the second place, He was spirit
as from the beginning, but He was incarnate,
manifest in the flesh ; veiled, indeed, but yet so
really to be recognized that our Lord said in words
still beyond our thought, " He that hath seen
me hath seen the Father." In the third place,
He is spirit as before, but without the form of
man, which has arisen from the top of Olivet and
vanished from sight, but with the addition of all
which He has accomplished by the Incarnation.
The eternal purpose is now fulfilled, and in this
fulfillment we rejoice, living in this day which
kings and prophets waited for. The oneness of
this divine life and presence is asserted in the
words so full of truth, if enriched with mystery,
" Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, and to-day,
and forever." It is not very difficult to illustrate
this, although it is only an illustration and sug-
gestion which can be given. If our thought does
not hesitate, our language must always falter when
we speak of God. Yet it is not entirely beyond
his children to have an apprehension of Him. A
young man, full of a generous ambition, inspired

SO THE COMFORTER. EVEN THE HOLY SPIRIT

with a desire to fulfill the command of his Lord,
longing to bring the world into his light and life,
enters upon a course of study which will prepare
him for this work. At length he leaves the
school, retaining his purpose and desire, which
have been increased by that which he has gained
in the patient years which have given him the
larger knowledge and ability required by the work
to which he aspires. T\ ith this original desire
and this acquired ability, he leaves his own coun-
try and goes to the end of the earth to be the
apostle of the grace of God. I feel how very
poor this is even as an illustration : yet we are
permitted to believe that, in order that the eternal
love of God which regarded the necessity of the
world should find men and be effectual to their
redemption, it was needful that the divine mercy
should receive what the life in the world would
give, and that having taken this to itself the form
in which it had been gained could be withdrawn,
and in the spiritual presence and power the design
of love and grace could be accomplished.

We have now the fullest revelation of God
which has ever been given to the world, and we
have God in the greatness of his power, with the
purpose enlarged into the fulfillment. The Holy
Spirit is the spirit of God ; that is. God. the Holy
Spirit. He is here in the name of Christ, holding

TEE COMFORTER, EVEN THE HOLY SPIRIT 81

the fact of the Incarnation and all which it has
accomplished to complete the Redemption and
make it effective in the life of men. " He shall
glorify me ; for He shall take of mine, and shall
declare it unto you." In these terms He was pro-
mised. " He shall teach you all things, and bring
to your remembrance all that I said unto you."
" He shall guide you into all the truth." " All
things whatsoever the Father hath are mine ;
therefore said I, that he taketh of mine, and shall
declare it unto you." This is certainly distinct,
and the time when these words were spoken gives
intensity to the truth which they set forth. The
mission of the Holy Spirit is to give Christ to the
world. He was not to succeed Christ, as Joshua
followed Moses, and Elisha Elijah ; but He was to
bring the unchanging Christ into the life of the
world, to extend his teaching, and his work. He
was so to glorify, to illumine Christ that men might
see Him. He would have said, as under his teach-
ing St. Paul wrote, that in his ministry He was
determined to know nothing but Jesus Christ, and
Him crucified. As the apostle's ministry was
wide, so is that of the Holy Spirit. The circle is
very large through which He moves, but its centre
is forever fixed, so that if you should take Christ
from the thought of the Holy Spirit you would
take away his gift and grace.

82 THE COMFOBTEB, EVEN THE HOLY SPIBIT

The order of grace, as of nature, is not succes-
sion, but progression. We keep and we add. All
that the Father was, and all that He has done will
remain, as when the coming of Christ was added ;
and so completely was Christ in the life and
thought of God, and so entirely was He devoted
to the doing of the will of the Father, that He said,
in words whose deep simplicity we ought not to
misconceive, " I do nothing of myself : but as my
Father hath taught me, I speak these things. And
He that sent me is with me : the Father hath not
left me alone : for I do always those things that
please Him." With similar words the Holy Spirit
comes to us, and it is not presumption wrhen we
think of Him as taking to himself that which
Christ had said, " I do nothing of myself. He that
sent me is with me. I do always those things that
please Christ." What is this but the sublime
truth that God is spirit, and that as the Holy Spirit
He is presenting to the world Christ and the Cross
on which the love of God has redeemed the world.
As the Father speaks out of the heavens, saying,
" This is my beloved Son, hear ye Him," so the Son
of God is saying, as we look upon Him, " He that
hath heard me hath heard the Father, and he that
shall hear the Holy Spirit he shall hear me, and
know the Father and me; this is Eternal Life,
and into this knowledge the Spirit of Truth shall

THE COMFORTER, EVEN THE HOLY SPIRIT 83

lead the willing spirit of men." It is very simple ;
for man, too, is spirit, so that he can hold commun-
ion with the spirit which gave him life, and " this
is life ; " so that as light blends with light, and
air with air, the spirit who is God enters the
spirit who is man, and abides there in a union
which is perfect and permanent. We are con-
scious of this spiritual presence and influence.
We know our own spiritual life, and the life of
our friends ; and we feel sometimes, certainly we
feel, that we have the presence of God with us.

The confidence of Christ in the continuance of
his life in the world is perfect, and was never
stronger than on that night when He was giving to
his disciples his last promises, before He went out
to Gethsemane and Calvary. That confidence was
to remain when He had been lifted to the throne
of heaven. He was still to bless the world. He
was himself to be in the world. He promised, at
an hour when a promise, if possible, was doubly
sacred, that He would be with his friends whom
He was to leave in the world as his witnesses and
ministers. They would not see Him, but they
would know that He was with them, and it was
to be in the person of the Holy Spirit.

The time when this enlarged work of the Holy
Spirit was to begin was therefore fixed by necessity.
He had, indeed, always been in the world. He

84 THE COMFOETEB, EVEN THE HOLY SPIRIT

had taught men, directed them, inspired them in
a presence and a power never absent from obedi-
ent and waiting hearts. But as it needed the full-
ness of time for the Son to come into the world,
so it needed the fullness of time for the Holy Spirit
to come. This is clearly set forth in the Gospel.
Jesus stood in the temple on the last day, that
great day of the feast, and saw the water poured
from the golden pitcher, and the weary, thirsty,
unsatisfied hearts of men around him ; and speak-
ing in a pity and a power far beyond all that
priests and prophets held He declared : " If any
man thirst, let him come unto me and drink." He
promised more than that, — that if a man would
believe on Him, there should flow from him rivers
of living water. The Gospel adds : " 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 glori-
fied." That was the point, then, when the special
and enlarged ministry of the Holy Spirit was to
begin. It is impressive to mark that there was no
need that He should add to what Christ had said
and done, but only that He should give these to the
world, renew them, carry them into the thoughts
of men, make them a part of the life of men.
The work for which the Father had given the Son
was finished. The world was to learn this and re-

THE COMFORTER, EVEN THE HOLY SPIRIT 85

ceive it. He could not announce the Resurrection
of Christ till He had risen from the dead. He
could not present the death of Christ till He had
died. He could not bring to remembrance all the
truth which Christ had taught till the teaching was
complete ; then, when the Lord had ascended into
the heavens, the Holy Spirit was seen and known
of men, and the work of Christ gained their hearts
and won them to the faith.

This method is not altogether peculiar to the
teaching of Christ. It belongs in other domains
of knowledge. In these centuries which are not
far behind us, continents have not been created but
found; not lifted from the sea, but brought into
the sight of men. The planets have not been
fashioned, but they have been seen. Their courses
have not been determined, but learned. The work
of science is not creation, but discovery and employ-
ment. It combines, directs, uses what it finds,
makes the secrets of Nature the common truth of
the world. On that day when the Holy Sj)irit
came in strength, that Pentecost which we single
out from all the Pentecosts of history, there was no
new truth created, but the former truth was declared
with power that never had been known, the power
to which men submitted and by which they were
changed. The Apostles had nothing to add to the
essential truths of religion. They pointed back

86 THE COMFORTER. EVEN TUE HOLY SPIRIT

with steady hand, and from the past brought out
the future. They taught what Christ had taught,
unfolded his instruction, repeated his promises, and
brought men to life. The grand moral and reli-
gions truths which we are living by are Christ's
truth. TTe still say M Our Father," and have no-
thing to add to it. u My Father's house " remains
the best picture of heaven. Love God and love
your neighbor are the largest duty. The Lord's
Prayer and the Beatitudes still content us, and
there is no more blessed word for the weary and
heavy-laden than that which has been heard through
all the burdened years, ;i Come unto me and rest."
St. Paul ascended to the height above which no
man has gone and knew that nothing shall sepa-
rate the loving heart from the love of God which
is in Jesus Christ our Lord. When we would
describe the spirit of charity and helpfulness, we
find nothing better than his words which make
Love the greatest thing in the world ; and we have
no higher solace in the presence of the death which
comes to every man, than his triumphant teaching
of the resurrection, which rests all its weight and
gains all its inspiration and the entire wealth of its
triumphant encouragement from the Resurrection
of Christ from the dead. Is there any truth which
a man needs to-day for guidance and comfort, for
faith and life, that is not found in the words of men

THE COMFORTER, EVEN THE HOLY SPIRIT 87

who do no more than to find all their knowledge
in the truth which Christ has taught, and in the
life which Christ has given ?

But to know this truth, to be able to speak it, to
give to it an entrance into the minds and hearts
which needed it, was more than Apostles could
accomplish, was indeed the work of the Spirit of
Truth, the Spirit of Christ, to whom He had com-
mitted both his Apostles and his truth, saying,
" He shall glorify me : for He shall take of mine,
and shall declare it unto you." We are well aware
how much depends upon the teacher of the truth.
Even the voice makes the words plainer, and gives
them entrance to the ear and to the soul. It was
not the thought of the poet merely, but it was a
necessity of the heart when one called for the read-
ing of words which should delight him, and asked
for this added grace : " Lend to the rhyme of the
poet the beauty of thy voice." I call to mind an
instance of this kind where the want is revealed.
One of our own clergymen, himself a poet, fond of
the poetry of the English Laureate, found himself
unable to understand, or appreciate as he felt he
ought to do, the poem of " Maud," wherein we have
the unfolding of a lonely, morbid soul which feels
the influence of a passionate love. But it was
granted to this man to sit one evening at twilight
in Tennyson's study at Aid worth, and to hear him

NV THE COMFOETEE. EVEN THE HOLY SFIEIT

read his own words. The voice was deep, strong.
musical, and moved in a rhythmic chant, as if the
poet were lost to everything about him. and were
living onlv in his own lines, recalling the life
which he had described, and which had been very
real to him. The reading was full of feeling and
reality, and the voice changed with the thought,
sometimes moving as the wind among the pine trees.
and sometimes falling like the waves which throb
upon the beach : and as the reading moved on. and
when it was completed and the voice was still, the
man had gained the meaning of the poem, had felt
the power of its thought, the influence of its spirit.
Somewhat in this way the Holy Spirit takes the
words of Christ, takes the words of the Apostles
whom He has himself instructed, reads them to our
heart, gives his own tone to them, his own accent
and emphasis, till we feel them as at no other time,
and they gain possession of our mind ; so that it
may be said that no one has come to a full under-
standing of the life and teaching of Christ till he
has had the Holy Spirit read to him, adding the
charm of his own voice to the words which are thus
inspired. For the full understanding of divine
truth there seems to be needed, even if in less
degree, an inspiration of the hearer to receive it as
well as of the teacher to express it.

Take one saying of our Lord's, one of the last

THE COMFORTER, EVEN THE HOLY SPIRIT 89

and largest. It was on Tuesday in the week of the
Crucifixion. Two disciples came to Him, saying,
" There are certain Greeks here who desire to see
Jesus." Impressed with their coming, with this
entrance which his words had gained into the world
which lay beyond his own people, He gave no
answer to the request ; but pausing for a moment,
it would seem, He said : " The hour is come that
the Son of man should be glorified," and a little
later, " And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will
draw all men unto myself." He would draw men
of all nations ; the Jew and the Gentile would
come, and there were no others. He said this,
signifying what death He should die. The suffering
at the Cross, the sufferer upon the Cross, the truth
that the death was not for himself but for other
men, the promise that in this was Eternal Life,
would draw men to Him. What He had not
accomplished as He walked among men, He would
then secure. Men would come to Him, when they
saw Him there. The way to God would be open,
and they would consent to return to God, by the
new and living way of the Cross. He would not
compel men, but He would invite them, persuade
them, and they would come to Him. It was a
sublime assurance for the hour of his agony, and it
marks the confidence which belonged to Him and
carried Him steadily forward to his death. In this

90 THE COMFORTER, EVEN THE HOLY SPIRIT

confidence. He was ready to lay down the life which
no man could take from Him. He knew that He
should draw men, and He has. In every land of
the earth, upon the islands, upon the distant points
of coral where a few have made their home, He has
drawn men to himself ; and that which has drawn
them, out of every tribe and kindred and nation
and people, has been Christ lifted upon the Cross.
This was the word preached by Apostles, witnessed
by martyrs, established in the Church and its
Sacraments, and carried by the messengers of later
days to all the earth. It is this which has drawn
men to Him, and which must always draw. I do
not believe that a man ever saw Christ upon the
Cross, really saw Him, knew Him, knew what the
lifting up meant to Him and to those for whom He
gave his life, and was not drawn to Him. It was
so at the beginning ; it has been so ever since. It
will be so to the end. But it is necessary that He
be lifted up. It is not enough that He died upon
the Cross on Calvary. Men must know that He
died upon the Cross, and with what intent. They
must see Him, and learn from Him, feel his presence
and his life. He must be lifted before the hearts
of men now, if they are to be drawn to Him. How
shall this be accomplished? By repeating the
gospel, telling again the story of the Crucifixion.
There is but One who can tell it, and make it deeply

THE COMFORTER, EVEN THE HOLY SPIRIT 91

felt, but One who can so lift the Cross of Christ
that men shall be held by it, drawn to it, made to
feel its infinite compassion, and be brought into the
fullness of its endless life. Only the Holy Spirit
can take of the things of Christ, the Cross of Christ,
Christ lifted up, and so present Him that men shall
be drawn to Him. When He lifts the Cross before
the heart, men are attracted to the Saviour, unless
they will that it shall not be so. Men are free
even under this gracious influence, and if they
will not come they do not come ; but if they will,
the Cross lifted by the Spirit of God draws them
and holds them.

If I may change the imagery a little, the gospel
has been compared to a seal. It is not enough that
the seal be near the wax, that it touch it, that the
wax even be conscious of the presence of the seal.
The seal must be pressed into the wax, held there
till its impress is made, then it can be removed, and
the mark of the seal remains. The truth of Christ
may be brought near the heart, may even touch it,
and no mark be left. It is the work of the Holy
Spirit to press the truth in, to hold it there, till the
soul possesses it. Then there is stamped upon the
soul the image of Christ lifted upon the Cross.

We have the words of the Redeemer of the
world. We know his life, his death, his Resurrec-
tion, but we need to feel these, or to feel them

92 THE COMFORTER, EVEN THE HOLY SPIRIT

more deeply, and to have them fixed in our life.
It is very simple, but it is very beautiful, even
divine, that the Spirit of Truth will enter our
thought and affection and will and life, and bring
in with Hitn the grace and truth we need, and
make them a part of our thought and life, inspir-
ing our spirit with the spirit of love. He will do
this, He will leave the mark of Christ upon us,
deepening it, enlarging it; He will make it our
life, till its joy and strength are ours ; till it be-
comes courage and constancy and devotion ; till we
ourselves are spiritual and divine, and the life that
we live we live in the faith of Him who loved us
and gave himself for us. To Him our Lord in-
trusted the cause for which He gave his life. To
Him He commits us, for whom He died and rose
again. He is the Shepherd of Christ's sheep, and
He makes us the sheep of the Shepherd, and the
shepherds of other sheep. In this light and peace
we live, forever drawn on by the vision of the
resting Christ in his eternal glory; and as we
live on toward Him, we hear the voice encoura-
ging and welcoming us, for out from the heavens
comes the greeting to our home : " And the Spirit
and the bride say, Come ! "

VI

THE GRACE OF THE TOUCH
S. Mark vi. 56

THE GRACE OF THE TOUCH

There are many ways of helping our neighbors
and blessing the world. Some men take more than
one of these, and others only the one to which they
seem specially appointed. Our Lord, in the large-
ness of his life, employed them all. He talked,
and they said that never man spake like this man ;
and his words were spirit and life, for He was the
Truth. He wrought wonderful deeds of mercy, till
those who saw them marveled, and from all the
land men came to Him, that He might do what no
one else in all the world could do for them. But in
the record which preserves his words and his works
there are few sentences finer than this, " As many
as touched Him were made whole." He was not
speaking, He was not working, but they came to
Him, glad if they might touch but the border of
his garment, and receive of his restoring grace.
To more than are named to us was this blessing
given. He gave it at a cost, for He perceived when
virtue went out from Him. It was to those who
touched Him, not to those who saw Him, heard

96 THE GEACE OF THE TOUCH

Him, admired Him, but to as many as touched
Him, bringing their scant souls into contact with
his infinite compassion ; so close upon it that no-
thing separated them from his power and love. To
this divine grace which was in Him we pay our
homage, but we can do more than that ; for while
it is quite true that no one can be all that Christ
was, or do all that Christ did, still it is to be grate-
fully recognized that in our degree his grace and
truth may become a part of our life so that we too
can speak words of truth, and do deeds of mercy,
and be so full of virtue that whoever touches us
shall be helped. We can never cease to adore the
greatness of the nature and the life of Him whom
we call Lord and Master, but more and more, as we
come to know Him, shall we find that He does not
present himself before us merely to be worshiped,
but that his life may become our life, and that this
world may be blessed in us. The branch is not so
great as the vine, but it holds the same life, and it
bears the fruit which the vine delights to bestow.
He even went so far as to give a promise which
always surprises us, that if we live in Him, we shall
do the works that He did, and greater works.

We certainly know very many who live in the
power of Christ, whose words are spirit, whose
works are mercy ; and many to whom this grace
is given, that as many as touch them share their

THE GRACE OF THE TOUCH 97

virtue. There are many sorts of people in the
world, and this division of men is easily perceived.
There are some who influence us by their words
and works ; and there are others whose influence
over us is quite as real who do not strive to do
special acts of helpfulness, but are content to live
and let us feel, if we will, the force of the living.
Yet this unsought influence is joined to the power
which shows itself also in active ministries. The
life wrhich is manifest is the disclosure of the hidden
life ; and because of what we see we are readily
affected by that which is concealed, but of which
we are so sure that without effort we yield our-
selves to its control. It is not the mere silence,
but it is the silence which follows words fitly
spoken which impresses us. We read of silence
in heaven, but it was only for about the space of
half an hour, an island of silence in an ocean of
sound. Words and deeds, if they be sincere, are
the expression of the life which is behind them.
Thus it comes to pass that men whose words we
trust and whose kindness we receive are able to
help us beyond their particular thought of us and
our necessity.

There are many who lack this ; whose lives are
just, whose words are accurate, whose conduct is
honest, but from whom there comes no benefit
which they do not plan to give to us. Their cup

98 THE GEACE OF THE TOUCH

is full, but it does not run over. They kindly
regard the petition of the Queen of Sheba, but
they add no royal bounty. I think we feel that
those who give to us out of the exuberance of a
rich character, who do not need to seek us out and
of set purpose to exert themselves to help us, but
who do help us by letting us live near them and
touch them with our trusting fingers, are our great-
est benefactors. It is not unlikely that those who
read these words may be conscious that the greatest
help which has come to them from men has come
from those who were not trying to control them.
It was a strange reply, in the sound of it, made by
a noted preacher when one said to him, " But you
preach to do good, do you not?" "Heaven for-
bid ! " he answered. His meaning is plain enough,
that he sought to speak the truth, and to live it
before those who looked to him, and to let it find
its own way to each man's life, and let each man
take from it what he chose. Men differ very
greatly in this power of giving out to the simple
touch. For this influence we have no name. We
call it magnetism, which means nothing ; it cer-
tainly is not that. The best word to describe it is
vitality, for life holds by the very tenure of its be-
ing the power to extend itself and join other life.

The lessons one should draw from these teach-
ings would seem to be obvious. Let us keep within

THE GRACE OF THE TOUCH 99

reach of those who are strong enough to answer to
our touch. Let us find little time for those who
can only help us when they mean to help us, and
avoid those who, whatever they may say, can only
weaken us. Shall we have nothing to do with
men who are merely righteous, and turn utterly
away from those who are weak ? We can go to
them, and stand near to them, when we are con-
scious that we know that which it would be well
for them to learn, and are strong enough to give
virtue to them and thus enlarge our own. But
we cannot afford, while life is serious and so great
strength is required, to let those influence us who
have no vigor which will give itself, whose spirit
is dismay, whose biography is defeat, who can only
surround us with the malaria of discouragement.
No man can afford to consort with disappointment,
but men should be strong enough to deliver from
defeat those who have too little heart to escape by
their own skill.

It may seem that these virtues which have been
commended are the virtues of quiet people, lacking
force, strangers to the real life of the world. It
is very far otherwise. The quiet virtues are the
strong virtues. The Beatitudes of our Lord are
given to those who are meek, and poor in spirit,
and pure in heart, who show mercy, and make
peace, and endure persecution for righteousness'

100 THE GRACE OF THE TOUCH

sake. But they are for the vigorous nature.
The acts which come for reward in the Day of
Judgment are not the acts of men boastful of their
strength, whom the crowd admires for their stature,
but of men of simple ways, of large heart, whose
works of mercy are so within their power that
they can be the habit of their life. We hear of
active and of passive virtues. There are no pas-
sive virtues. Virtue in its very thought is activity.
What is its first syllable but man in a robust
character ? By the active virtues are meant such
as these : courage, liberty, generosity. But these
make no noise, set up no pretense, and their voice is
not heard in the streets. What are termed passive
virtues would be these : meekness, humility, pa-
tience, purity. But it is clear that these virtues
whose name is simple belong only to the strong
character. When anything resembling them is
found in a weak character, it is itself weakness.
Thus meekness in a weak man becomes syco-
phancy. Humility becomes servility, and probably
hypocrisy. Patience is not the tame submission
to the inevitable, but it is the brave adjustment
of our thought to the conditions of our life. The
apostle who was so fortunate in his phrases has
spoken of this, combining two words that we do
not usually associate, in " the patience of hope ; "
the patience which with all its submission is strong

THE GRACE OF THE TOUCH 101

in expectation, and the hope which with all its
confidence waits quietly for its fulfillment. Purity
is more than innocence. It is not the simplicity
of a child ; it is not the colorless character of one
who never has lived out of doors. Purity is the
uprightness of a man who under temptation has
kept his virtue, who has refused to be bribed, who
against all inducements has refused to put out his
money to usury, or to take reward against the
innocent. It is to purity tried, enlarged, exalted,
that the promise comes of the ability and the
opportunity to see God, whom only the good can
see and know. Virtue must be intelligent, never
yielding itself to fear, never refusing duty. The
test between weakness and strength was well given
by a strong English woman, when at the close of
the day she made this inquiry of her thought :
" Have I done my duty, or did I sophisticate and
flinch?" Virtue belongs with wisdom and daring.
A weak general sees the enemy approaching and
listens to his fear : " The enemy is strong, I must
retreat." The virtuous general sees the enemy ap-
proaching and listens to his courage : " The enemy
is strong, I must bring up my reserves."

It may impress these helpful truths upon us if
we recall some of those who have illustrated them.
They come readily to your minds, those whom you
have met and who have blessed you by letting you

102 THE GRACE OE THE TOUCH

touch them. English students used to say that

they felt better all Jay if they could meet Maurice
in the morning. The sight of President Woolsey,
as he crossed the college grounds, was a benedic-
tion upon the students who saw his quiet walk.
and looked with reverence upon the bending form.
The saint of Harvard, who not long ago entered
into his rest, was alwavs giving out virtue to those
who touched him. A student was asked. " Why-
is it that you always cheer him more loudly than
any one beside ? " He hesitated, for he had never
thought of any reason : then he gave the best
answer that could be given : " I do not know.
We like to see him around the yard." A student
crossing the college vard. verv late at night, after-
ward bore witness to the influence upon him as
he looked up and saw ;* the old Doctor's light
burning." The light was not burning for him,
nor had the man behind it kindled it with any
thought of reaching a wanderer over the green.
It was not because it was a light, or because there
was a man behind it. or because the man was a
scholar and a preacher, but because the boy knew
that the great heart was there busy with the truth,
that a great worker was stretching the day into
the night, that a good man was doing something,
it mattered not what it was. which he meant to
be of service to the world, or which would be of

THE GRACE OF THE TOUCH 103

service, even if he was not thinking it. It was
fine testimony which a plain man bore to a
preacher of whom he knew little, but whose pre-
sence was familiar on the streets of the town : " I
would rather see him walk than hear anybody else
preach." I knew an old minister in Maine who
in his advanced years could do little service, but
who was gratefully remembered by those whom he
had long blessed. " No matter if he cannot work,"
they said, "it is worth all his salary just to have
him live in the town." That is a beautiful tribute
to a simple life which is on the stone by the grave
of a good woman who rests in Mount Auburn ;
only these words : " She was so pleasant." But
why should I prolong the instances when your own
thoughts have already outrun my words ?

I am quite sure that you are more than willing
to assent to all that has been said. But let us
ask, each for himself, a curious question, and take
time to frame the answer honestly, faithfully,
patiently; let each one of us put this inquiry to
his own heart : how does it affect a person to meet
me ? Not, what things am I saying day by day,
or what is the spirit of my words. Not, what am
I doing out in the world. Not, what am I giving,
how great is the sum of my charity. Not, what
have I effected in my efforts to do good. Not,
how far have my well-intentioned purposes accom-

10-4 THE GRACE OE THE TOUCH

pliahed the design I gave to them. Xot any of
this, but only a simple question, perhaps harder to
answer, but not impossible. When a person meets
me day by day, lives in the house with me, is in
the same office with me. rides with me to and fro.
what effect does it have upon him ? Is he braver
because he meets me ? Does the sun seem to shine
more brightly ? Does he take up his work more
cheerfully, and carry his burden more patiently ?
Does life seem to him a richer thing, and does he
bless God more heartily that he is alive, simply
because, day after day. in the associations of life
he touches me? We meet often, and when I am
going up the stairs and he is coming down what
does he rub off from me and carry away with him ?
What deepening mark is made upon him because,
while we are hurrying, each upon his own way, we
touch one another? I do not ask the question
with any thought of oppressing or burdening you.
It is possible that some are not able to persuade
themselves that those are blessed who touch them ;
but I am confident that if we will be honest, as
truthful with ourselves as with another, willing to
submit our modesty to truth, we shall be obliged
to confess to ourselves what we never speak aloud,
that we trust, we quietly trust, that those who touch
us are healed. It were a pity to have it otherwise
when it is not difficult to have it thus.

THE GRACE OF THE TOUCH 105

We agree in this, that a life such as we have
been thinking upon is greatly to be desired. We
should like to make our influence only for good,
and then to deepen it. We wish that we could
enlarge life, could make it tell for more, but we
think we are not very wise ; we know that we are
not rich ; we dare attempt no lofty enterprise. We
cannot be always talking, with so much that we are
compelled to do. We cannot be always carrying
our neighbors in our mind, and reaching out to
help them. The days are short and work is hard.
Necessity is exacting in its claims. What, then,
can we do? It is possible so to have ourselves
that when we are hurrying to our work, when we
are most busily committed to it, when there comes
to us only the brief leisure of a chance meeting, or
the quiet method of common life, we may still be
of service, perhaps of greater service than if we
were striving to do some good we had resolved
upon, — if we can keep ourselves so full of virtue
that they who touch us shall be made whole. It
is light, not lightning, that serves the purposes of
men. It was finely said, that the sun does not lec-
ture the planets upon the duty of shining, but it
shines; and if the planets come in its way they
have to shine also, for the light falls upon them
and flashes away from them.

This is after our desire ; happily, as we should

106 THE GRACE OF THE TOUCH

expect, this is God's appointment. In his kind-
ness to the world He has made few great men ;
but in his kindness He has ordained that every
man may do the deeds which shall help the world,
and beyond this may do good to the world simply
by living in it. When He would improve the
home, his method is to give more virtue to some
one within it, who, because they are there together,
must touch others every day. When a great good
comes to the church, it comes not, commonly, in
some flood of blessing, falling at once upon every
heart, but it comes to the few, who will to have
it so, who are living much in the thought of God,
and in communion with his word, and who like
their Lord go up into the mountain, and continue
all night in prayer. They stand, they live, within
the church, and men come and go around them,
and whoever touches them is blessed. This is
God's appointment. Can we consent to it? Can
we fail to consent to it, if we desire to make our
life large and true, to be such men that the power
of Christ shall be wTithin us, and the grace of the
touch shall be the blessing of God to those who
know us ?

We can have a great enlargement of our influ-
ence if we desire it, if we can believe that which
we know, the power that comes in quietness from
the resources of strength that are beneath it. It

THE GRACE OF THE TOUCH 107

must be an honest influence and constant. We do
little good with long intervals. The current of
life must not be interrupted, if life is to reach its
appointed end. We cannot by anything that we
wear make up for the lack of hidden virtue.
Pretense is soon discovered, and one who has been
found insincere has narrowed his life through his
dishonor. Not by saying good words which possi-
bly we do not believe, or performing brave actions
simply for effect, can we make our life robust.
We hear much of setting an example. I do not
know which is the more devoid of interest, setting
an example, or following an example. To do
what we do not wish to do, in order that somebody
else may do what he does not wish to do, can have
little pleasure and less value. The trick is soon
found out. They make artificial flowers which
deceive the eye, but the touch finds out the sham.
It is only truth, constantly obeyed and thoroughly
believed in, which will give to us the power of
responding with the grace of the touch.

We need to caution ourselves here. There is
an attraction in unconscious influence which may
betray us. If we fancy that it is easier and cheaper
to work and give unconsciously than with design,
with actual words and with the coin of the realm,
we may find that our life is devoid of good, either
intentioned or unintentioned. We need always to

108 THE GRACE OF THE TOUCH

be on our guard against the easy way ; the way of
influence which is hardest may still be the best.
Yet it is not against a useful life that it is agree-
able to us and brings the reward which we are
not seeking. It is always to be remembered that
the life which responds readily to the touch is a
life that we have made great in its wisdom and
vigorous in its force. A great character is a great
achievement, and we shall esteem it the greater
when we mark the steadiness of its influence.
How shall we get this power to help men who
simply touch us ? We shall get it from God, from
loving intercourse with Him whose gentleness gives
greatness. We shall receive it in the place of
prayer. We shall find it in the Bible where the
silent words, waiting submissively for our wonder-
ing eyes, give out their light to us. The entrance
of the word of God gives understanding to the
simple and power to those who have no strength.
We shall find it in the service of Him who is the
Truth and the Life, who gives to us abundantly of
that which made Him divine, that bearing his
name we may do his work in the world. When,
putting away that which imprisons us with our-
selves, and leaves us shut out from the day, we
come to Him who is " never so far off as even to
be near," and permit nothing to separate us from
the love of God which is in Jesus Christ our Lord,

THE GRACE OF THE TOUCH 109

then shall there come to us the light and life and
love which are in Him.

We bring from men who have gained this
divine life that which will be life to us. We learn
of those who have learned of God. We touch
those who have touched Him, and the grace of
God, not lessened by coming in their lives, is
made our own. Strength and comfort are given
to us from the hands of men. Let us keep with
men in whom we find the grace of the touch, but
with them let us reach out our hand to Him who in
himself has the life divine, lifting up our nighted
eyes till they shall touch his fingers, turning our
brow to Him till He shall breathe upon it the Holy
Spirit, opening our inmost life till He shall fill it
with his glory. Then shall we know, and those
who live with us shall know, what that simple
word of the gospel means, "As many as touched
Him were made wrhole."

VII

THE WHEELS AND THE SPIRIT
Ezekiel i. 21

THE WHEELS AND THE SPIRIT

This is a mechanical age which we are living in.
There is no imagery which presents it better than
that which was used by the Hebrew prophet, one
of the captives by the river of Chebar, who saw in
his vision what he could only describe as wheels,
with living creatures among them. The figure is
very bold, but somewhat confusing. It is plain
that the wheels stand for the forces of the divine
rule in the earth, in government, in providence,
and in all the control exercised by God. The
living creatures are God's messengers and ministers
by whose action the course of things is directed in
the world. They have various names, cherubim,
angels, men. The comparison is not peculiar to
the prophet, for St. James speaks, long afterward,
of " the wheel of nature ; " and in many places
Holy Scripture presents to us the spirit which is
moving in the affairs of men.

I am not concerned now with the special thought
of the Hebrew exile, yet the illustration has its
meaning here. I do not know that I can better

114 THE WHEELS AXD THE SPIRIT

describe the work of the world than under this
imagery of wheels, mechanism, arrangement,
through which the thought of men is moving, and
by which the purposes of men accomplish their
decrees. One verse written by Ezekiel may bring
this more distinctly to our minds : " When those
went, these went; and when those stood, these
stood ; and when those were lifted up from the
earth, the wheels were lifted up beside them : for
the spirit of the living creature was in the wheels."
We have indeed come upon such a time as that.
The days are full of inventions, most of which are
to no purpose, but a few of which, the survival of
many experiments, become a part of our common
life. We talk, write, sing, hear, by machinery.
We travel and print by it. We work with it, and
play with it. We plant and we reap with it ;
until almost everything that can be done by mech-
anism is employing it. One whose time might
have been better spent has gone so far as to con-
trive an appliance by which many cups for the
Holy Communion can be filled at one time, thus
leaving leisure for something more desirable than
this service of the sanctuary. Government itself
is largely an affair of mechanism. We have con-
stitutions, laws, offices, officers, almost without
limit. In society, we have associations, clubs,
leagues, colleges, churches, till it is no small part

THE WHEELS AND THE SPIRIT 115

of an education to discover these auxiliaries and to
know how to use them with economy.

This is considered an advance, and doubtless it
is. To utilize the forces of nature is one of the
highest achievements of our time. To discover
power, to combine forces, to league them with our
will, is certainly to enlarge life, and greatly to
increase its accomplishment. But it must be con-
fessed that there are some considerations upon the
other side. By machinery which works rapidly we
may produce more things than are needed, and
enterprise may be checked, business hampered, and
men deprived of opportunities for work because of
the goods which are stored up until the time when
they shall be wanted. It is a very serious inquiry,
also, whether the time which we gain by the new
methods is employed to any better purpose than
when it was engaged in the old ways. It is true
that we travel much faster than we used to do ; but
is this altogether a gain ? Are we not away from
home too much, wearying ourselves by rushing
from place to place, and lessening our interest in
all places by being devoted to none ? The crowds
of burdened, anxious people along our streets,
thronging our stores, standing in our cars, cannot
but suggest the thought that it were much better
if it had been more difficult for them to quit their
homes. We print much more rapidly and cheaply

116 THE WHEELS AXD THE SPIRIT

than ever before : the result is that we print
many things which should never be published,
and flood the world with a great deal of reading
of which nothing can be said so good as that it is
utterly worthless. If it were more costly to print
a book, we should have fewer poor books ; if it
were more costly to own a book, we should buy
fewer which are not worth the reading. It is con-
fessed by those who know the most about it that it
was never so hard to do business as it is now.
Our business men were never so hurried ; their
hours of work were never so long : their periods of
rest never so anxious as in these days of rapid
transit, when one can speak to his neighbor across
the continent, and bring every morning to his desk
the recent news from the most distant clime. It is
very greatly to be doubted whether the machinery
which finds its way into our houses and offices and
factories has made life any pleasanter or work any
more remunerative. The slow methods almost
compelled thought. The mind seems to work most
steadily when the hands are employed. The very
concentration of our force upon some occupation
which is so simple as to dispense with constant care
favors the employment of our thought and the fix-
ing it in well-ordered channels that it may work
out patient results. It was the testimony of one
of the men who sought repose and comfort at

THE WHEELS AND THE SPIRIT 117

Brook Farm, one of the few thoughts which have
come from that experiment and are worth preserv-
ing, that milking cows is favorable to meditation.

There was certainly something in the old home
ways which fostered thrift and thought, made
strong characters, trained boys and girls for the
work they were to do in the world. Whatever we
have gained in these days of contrivances, we have
lost some things which we could poorly spare.
When the wise woman of the home, as wise as the
woman of the Book of Proverbs, sat by her open
fire or open window, and worked willingly with
her hands, she was doing what no mechanism ever
invented could attempt. Into her long seams
which kept her cunning fingers busy she sewed
long thoughts. She sewed much prayer and pur-
pose into the stitches, which, like the temple of
God, were full of strength and beauty. I verily
believe that the sturdy character of the New Eng-
land men and women of past generations was due
in no small degree to the sewing of their mothers.
I speak with utmost reverence, in memory of a
home by the sea, when I remind you of that to
which I think you will give assent, — the sacra-
ment of the needle.

But in any case, however fine the machinery
may be, the wheels are nothing without the spirit.
It is mind, after all, which invents the mechanism

118 THE WHEELS AND THE SPIRIT

and employs it. Machines do not produce machines,
and perpetual motion remains undiscovered. The
printing-press cannot think. The writing types
are at the mercy of the mind ; they cannot make
the thought, nor take the place of the thinker.
The mind invents the mechanism. The mind em-
ploys it, determines what shall be printed and
written. The personality of the writer gives much
of its value to the writing. We want to feel the
man within the words, and to this end that which
his fingers have wrought will be of service to us.
A letter written by machinery may be well enough
in ordering merchandise ; it is of less use for ex-
pressing friendship or emotion. What John Ster-
ling wrote to Carlyle was not overstated : " Your
signature is not at the end of your letters only, but
in every word you have written." In our school-
days we repeated, with the admiration that was ex-
pected of us, that " the pen is mightier than the
sword." It is by no means true, save under very
limited conditions ; nor is that what Lytton said,
but this : —

" Beneath the rule of men entirely great
The pen is mightier than the sword."

" Take away the sword ;
States can he saved without it ; "bring the pen ! "

This is obvious enough, yet it needs to be con-
sidered. We have a natural but overweening

THE WHEELS AND THE SPIRIT 119

confidence in machinery. We carry this so far
that in the language of political life we set a ma-
chine to run a machine. Yet we know better than
this, for we elect officers when we have established
offices, well aware that however perfect may be the
mechanism, a perfect man is needed for the best
use of it. Hence, with all our confidence in it and
in those who are using it, we find it necessary to
furnish from the life of the people the added
thought which is required. Thus we have in our
government an Indian Department, administered
by many men and at great cost ; but we have also
scattered through our towns little associations to
make sure that the governmental machinery is
doing its work well. We try to incite those who
are using it, and to improve the wheels which they
are running. We have an elaborate system of
civil service intrusted to men who are in honor
held to see that it is honestly administered, but at
the same time we have our private associations,
our papers, and numberless lectures and essays,
not only to make the wheels better, but to make
sure that there shall be spirit enough in those to
whom they are intrusted to see that the best work
is done in the best way. One of our wisest man-
ufacturers foresees the time when the wheels which
have made much of the industry of New England
will stop, because the Merrimac Eiver, losing its

1-0 THE WHEELS AND THE SPIRIT

forests, will lose the rains of heaven which it can
now gather together and harness to the wheels of

our factories. The wheels must have the constant
force from above them. The need of maintaining
the spirit need not be urged, although we do need
to remind ourselves and others regarding it. Even
public sentiment, with all the intricacies of its
feeling and instincts, cannot be trusted to do what
needs to be done for the community and for the
nation, but must itself be taught and inspired by
single men of lofty spirit, of bravery, of intense
feeling, who can breathe into the public heart and
public voice the spirit of a wise enterprise and
advance.

TTe recognize this principle of the spirit in the
wheels ; we see it in nature. Thus when our Lord
called the attention of his disciples to the lily by
the roadside. He bade them mark not so much
the form and texture of the flower as the spirit
within, which gave it being and beauty, and He
used it that by means of it God might secure the
confidence of men in his continual care. So the
stars in the heavens are not merely masses of
nebulous dust condensed and made to shine : they
are held in their places by the power which cre-
ated them, led on their way by the fingers from
which light passed into them ; and infinitely the
finest thing in all the heavens is, not the stars, but

THE WHEELS AND THE SPIRIT 121

the spirit which inhabits them ; and nothing so
fine has been said about them as that they declare
the glory of God ; and no use so fine has been
made of them as when the watchful shepherd
invoked their spirit for the purifying and the
governing of his own word and thought. It was
a noble and beautiful thing when our master in
science, with his pupils gathered around him at
Penikese, before he spoke to them of the rocks, or
opened his lips to give them any counsel, bade
them lift their hearts to God in prayer, to feel the
Spirit which ruled the world whose interpreter he
was.

We see the spirit in history, too. History is
not the record of events, of the movement of men,
the conquest of states ; history is the record of
thought, of the spirit within the deeds of men,
ruling and overruling for the working out of its
own intent. The coming of the Pilgrims to our
shores was not the sailing of a hundred men and
women in a wretched ship. It was the movement
of the divine thought.

" The word of the Lord by night
To the watching' Pilgrims came,
As they sat by the seaside,

And filled their hearts with flame."

The vessel itself was a "poor, common-looking
ship, hired by common charter-party for coined

122 THE WHEELS AXD THE SPIRIT

dollars : calked with mere oakum and tar ; pro-
visioned with vulgarest biscuit and bacon ; " yet,
"Thou little Mayflower hadst in tliee the life-
spark of the largest Nation on our Earth."

It is so in our later history. The War of the
Revolution did not accomplish a mere change of
rulers and the removal of the seat of government.
It was the march of an idea ; of liberty working
out its own freedom and gaining its ascendency
through the men and armies which it employed.
It was in the spirit, and for the spirit, that War-
ren cried as he fell : " It is sweet to die for one's
country ! " Our late war was the movement of the
spirit of liberty and unity in the mechanism of
armies and of governments, and it was of this
that our own laureate cried exultantly : " 0, beau-
tiful, my country ! " And again : " There is some-
thing magnificent in having a country to love ! "
When Guizot asked Mr. Lowell how long the
American Republic will last, he made answer, —
not saying as long as its rivers run, and its mines
yield gold, — but thus : "As long as the princi-
ples of its founders continue to be dominant." He
saw, as any prophet must see, that a country can
never be made or preserved by wheels, but that
its life is in the spirit which employs them, and
that so long as the spirit is brave and true, when
it moves, the wheels will move ; when it is lifted

THE WHEELS AND THE SPIRIT 123

up from the earth, the wheels will be lifted up
beside it, and that the spirit of the living creature
gives to the wheels their strength. It is a good
sign that in these times of ours we are rising to this
thought. We have immense confidence in mecha-
nism. We are learning to turn to the spirit, and
of late we have come often to speak a word which
a few years ago was rarely heard, or spoken only
by some one out of sympathy with the methods of
his age. I mean arbitration, the coming together
of men and men, the meeting of nation and nation,
not to determine their rights, settle their contro-
versies, define their boundaries by strongly adjusted
wheels, by armies and by navies, but by honorable
thought, by the honest interchange of opinion, by
right reasoning, and upright judgment.

We have seen painfully of late the impotence of
wheels in a great necessity, and the need of spirit.
Europe has been heavily loaded with mechanism.
The English, French, German, Russian, Austrian,
Italian armies have tramped across the continent,
and navies matching the armies have vexed all the
seas. But when a nation, cruel and base, mur-
dered helpless people because of their faith, there
was not power enough in all the machinery of
Europe to defend a man from his murderer, or to
place a shield before a helpless child. The ma-
chinery of the Powers, as for some reason they

124 THE WHEELS AXD THE SPIEIT

are termed, is huge and cumbersome, but it could
not do its work. It could not maintain the right
of good men to live, nor compel respect for com-
mon law. The wheels kept up their grinding, but
there was no grist. We could hear across the
ocean the groaning and creaking of the engines ;
but above it all were borne upon the air, even to
our shores, the shrieks of men and women and the
cries of babes. Legislation seemed to have " ex-
hausted its mandate." Perhaps after a time the
spirit may enter into the wheels and lift them up :
the spirit of humanity and fellowship : the spirit
of unselfishness and courage ; a spirit human, not
national ; the spirit of God, the Lord of Sabaoth.
Doubtless that spirit is there, and the time will
come when it will assert its right to rule. Mech-
anism has been well said to be like a glass bell
through which we look, but under which we faint
for lack of air. It is a good comparison. At last
we shall shatter the glass with a blow, and the
spirit will emerge, and begin its work.

There is much in this hurried life of ours,
among our inventions and discoveries, which as-
sures us that we know the spirit, that we prize it,
in our best moments depend upon it, and for great
good seek its help. We strive to foster this by
our schools and our churches. We believe that
the increase of virtue and patriotism is the in-

THE WHEELS AND THE SPIRIT 125

crease of strength. We have more and more to
consent to this, and to take it into all our life.
Our minds go out beyond our petty interests, and
the little domain which lies around our door, and
we think, often with pride, sometimes with solici-
tude, of the work that is before us ; for the spirit
which brought the Pilgrims to these shores, and
made the colonies into a nation, and made the
Republic free, must be invoked and obeyed, if the
work is to be completed, and the Republic is to be
preserved and perfected. For the first time in the
history of the world are men called upon to make
a Republic such as this, bringing many nations
into one nation, under one government, with one
patriotism, and one virtue ; tearing up the sepa-
rate flags, and weaving the strips into the banner
of the Republic. For our work we need our
wealth, our mines of silver and of gold, and all the
treasures which are upon the earth and within it.
We need railroads and factories and shops and
banks, at the East and at the West, at the North
and at the South. We need government and laws
for the strong body, through which the strong
spirit that from the beginning has been at work,
and has made no serious mistake, may complete
its task with vigor and in peace. We must give
the national spirit everywhere, the spirit of light,
of freedom, of life, the spirit of the Puritan and

126 THE WHEELS AXD THE SPIBIT

the Republic. How shall we do this but by re-
ceiving the spirit and obeying it, every man for
himself, here, where we live? We shall do this
here and over all the land by our schools, which
teach history and geography, good manners and
high virtue. We must build churches every-
where : not yet cathedrals, but log meeting-houses,
till we can build better ; if not universities, school-
houses for all the children of the people. The
sources of spiritual strength which our fathers
used are open to us : the heart turned toward God ;
the spirit of prayer which ascends to heaven and
brings the answer of wisdom and of strength ; the
open Bible which every man can read for himself,
gathering its lessons of courage and patience ; the
Day of the Lord, with the mind released from
work, that it may worship, and the soul resting
content in the thought of the Eternal Love and
Life of Him who loves the country as He loves
those who made it ; who loves the country as He
loves those who will inherit it. Our fathers
wrought faithfully, and their work has one virtue
which we admire, its stability. The wheels they
used were not of modern make, but the spirit
which was in them knows nothing of time and
change. If we do not like their wheels, and we
can readily improve upon them, we admire their
spirit, and that which it has accomplished.

THE WHEELS AND THE SPIRIT 127

Thus do we stand in our place and consider our
work and look along the years. By all means let
us make our mechanism thorough, but by all
means have our spirit divine. In the places of
our government let the commandment of God
bear sway. Let there be given to Him the obedi-
ence which is his due. In the common life that we
share as fellow-citizens let us secure and obey the
spirit of the eternal strength. In the quiet of the
home, with the heart tender and gentle, we may
well nurture the sentiment which is our honor,
and affection one for another ; toward the coun-
try, patriotism ; toward God, piety. So may we
do in our personal life, in the sanctuary of our
home, in our villages and cities, in the states
which make the nation ; living in the power of the
spirit which moves among the wheels, and letting
it rule the land. In view of this, in our gratitude
and our hope, we can raise upon our heights the
beacons which shall flash the light from hill to hill
across the " kindling continent,9' while we give
praise and confidence and love and hope to our
country. Then shall she attain unto her great-
ness:

" She that lifts up the manhood of the poor,
She of the open soul and open door,
With room about her hearth for all mankind."

VIII

THE PLACE OF THE BRANCH

S. John xv. 8

THE PLACE OF THE BRANCH

The manna came directly from the sky; that
manna always does. Our daily bread does not.
When our Lord spoke of the branch and the vine,
there were three working together for the fruit, —
the husbandman, the vine, the branch. Or shall
we say four, and name another quite as essential,
the man who gathered the fruit ? If we transfer
this to the spiritual interests which He had in mind,
we have the Father, the Son whom He gave to the
world, the men whom Christ drew about himself,
and to whom He gave his life, and, finally, those
who listened to the disciples and took from them
the gift of God which it was their calling to bestow.
It seems a long way from the Eternal in his heaven
to the grapes plucked by a man's hand from the
vine, but the way is unbroken. It is like a long
river whose head-waters, gathered from the springs
among the hills, flow down their course till they
reach the sea into which men cast their nets and
over which they sail their ships. The River of the
Water of Life flows from the throne of God, but

132 THE TLACE OF THE BRANCH

men drink of it in the valleys of this world. Thus
the fruit proceeds from the vine ; it is its life,
changed into that which shall be refreshing to the
world.

This is the divine way of blessing the world.
Many of the gifts of God are given immediately
to men, are bestowed by the spirit of God upon
the spirit of men. But in the ordinary gifts of
his providence and of his grace, there is, commonly,
the intervention of the man who is the branch.
This is certainly not our way, for only to a limited
extent have we consented to it now that it is ap-
pointed for us. It is very difficult for men to feel
that by the ordinance of God they are of constant
and vital importance in the imparting of his bless-
ings. It pleases God to give his Son. It pleases
Christ to give his disciples, whom He has instructed
and furnished and inspired for his work in the
world. There is but one Incarnation of which it
can be said that God is manifest in the flesh, and
" He that hath seen me hath seen the Father."
But there are many indwellings in which the spirit
who is God, abiding in the spirit who is man,
speaks through his lips, works by his hands, and
thus illustrates and conveys his truth and mercy
to the world.

The method of Christ's life as it has been given
in the gospel makes this plain. " Ye have not

THE PLACE OF THE BRANCH 133

chosen me," He said, " but I have chosen you, and
appointed you, that ye should go and bear fruit,
and that your fruit should remain." He meant
that his own life, in order to reach the world,
should become the life of men and should be his
and theirs, to be received by those to whom men
carried it as the life of Christ. In this we are
following a method which is entirely simple and
reasonable, for man is himself spirit, and has the
divine nature ; he is furnished with power by his
Creator, he is endowed with knowledge and truth
and life by Christ, to whom he looks as Master
and Lord. He has in his measure the character
of Christ, for he is a man forgiven through Him,
and renewed by the spirit of truth ; he has dwell-
ing in him the same Holy Spirit who descended
upon his Lord as He stood in the waters of the
Jordan ; and so far as it can be done he repeats in
the world the life which his Master lived when He
was seen of men, and has the same intent and pas-
sion to glorify God upon the earth and to accom-
plish the work which He has given him to do.
Very real is the trust which is reposed in him,
when He who is the Good Shepherd, and who has
given his life for the sheep, intrusts his sheep and
his lambs to the care of the man. But much more
close is the relation in this similitude of the vine,
wherein the vine ordains that the life which He is

184 THE PLACE OF THE BRANCH

giving to the world shall pass through the branch,
shall be seen in its beauty wherever the branch
reaches out. and shall be gathered by the hands of
those who shall give thanks, not to the branch,
but to the vine and the husbandman. Thus it is
that God, who is the source of all life, gives the
blessings of life to the world of men whom He has
made, and whom He calls his children. It is not
difficult, then, to see why our Lord, in his solemn
account of the great day which is to come, elevates
into a sacrament the giving of a cup of water or
a piece of bread, the visit to a prison, the solace
of a stranger ; for it would seem to be one man who
does all the things which are there commended.
The glory of the acts is this, that they are God's
acts ; that these are his gifts, given in his spirit ;
that they are Christ's blessings, bestowed upon
those whom Christ came to save ; that they are
therefore divine, and are therefore the witness to
the divine life in men. Such deeds, given in the
spirit of God to those who are the friends of
Christ, — how can they be less than divine, or be
unworthy of recognition when the summing-up of
life has come ?

It is very evident that God must in a way like
this give his blessing to men ; or, at least, that this
is the simplest and kindest way. We could not
bear the sight of Jehovah upon our streets. Our

THE PLACE OF THE BRANCH 135

eyes would be blinded with excess of light, nor
should we be able to do our daily work, and live in
calmness, if our homes were flooded with the radi-
ance of Him whom no man hath seen at any time,
nor can see; of whom it was written in words
which we readily believe : " There shall no man
see me and live." Nor could we bear the presence
of Christ himself, if He were here in the fullness
of his light, for He was the effulgence of his
Father's glory. When three men saw the bright-
ness of his face, and the gleaming of his garments
upon the mount, they were unwilling to go down
again into the world that needed them ; they would
fain set up tents and leave the world without them-
selves, and without Him. Then, if He were here,
still blessing men as of old, and in the old way, how
could we be quiet ? He might be at Washington,
or at Jerusalem, and how could we rest, how could
we work, if He were so near, and yet so remote ;
and how desolate would seem all the places where
He was not ! He said truly, and we can see that
it was truly, " It is expedient that I should go
away," for thus would He give to the world his
presence in all places, and on every day ; as even
now, wherever there is the man in whom He lives,
through whom He speaks, in whom He suffers,
there He may be found. Wherever He gives
others his own grace, as many as touch them are

THE PLACE OF THE BRANCH

made whole, because they touch Him. We do nor

need to gv> afar to seek Him. to c

course with his life, to feel his spirit. It is

MUM men become like Him. and we see the like-
B, and men are like pictures in a book, repre-
sentations of that is far away: bu:
He is himself in the men. and his life :- "oe:
their life, and his spirit rules their spirit. TVe
shrink back from this. We are not worthy of
such honor. We cannot bear so great a trust.
We are unwilling that men who are hungry and
thirsty should look to us for the gift of God. But
I said that we never thought to have it so. He
told us. in many ways, that this was his choice.
not ours : and if He has chosen thus to make use
of us. who are we that we should refuse, or plead
our unworthiness. or consent to our timidity, or
fail to listen to the divine calling given to those
who even now in the low places of the world lift up
their eyes to heaven and say •* Our Father " ? I
am sure that we can see how very much pleasanter
it is. how much more generous, how much m
the kindness of Him who loves all his child: -
delights, not merely to give to men wh
able to receive, but to give to men what they ;
able to bestow, that He advances us. because He
~::e glory of taking, even from Hie

i :ed hands, the unsearchable riches of Christ.

THE PLACE OF THE BRANCH 137

to that glory of which Christ himself bore witness
in the words which we hear long after the gospel
has been spoken, " It is more blessed to give than
to receive." The place of the branch is indeed
the place of receiving, for the life of the vine
flows into it ; but the place of the branch is the
place of giving, for the divine life flows from it
into fruit which makes glad the heart of man. It
is not that we are simply used, that we are like the
channel through which the river flows, never con-
senting to give it a path to the sea, or are merely
consenting to the honor of such service ; but that
all our power, in all its liberty, our highest facul-
ties in their noblest employ, are engaged in this
transmitting of the blessing of God. The will of
God enters into our will, which welcomes it, and
gives to it a freeman's liberty, and wills to do the
will of God. It flows into our affections, which
rejoice to be quickened and purified by its presence,
and which give themselves and the love of God
into ministries for beautifying the earth. It flows
into all our heart, into all our life, informing, enno-
bling, enabling, making our liberty real in the
added strength it gives to it, making it blessed in
the divine grace with which it inspires it for the
fulfillment of its highest aspirations, for the glo-
rifying of its noblest thought.

I wish that we might come to see this. I wish

138 THE PLACE OF THE BBANCH

very much that we all might come to know and
confess how magnificent a thing it is to live, to
bear the image and likeness of God, to have his
life our life, his thought our thought, to be in his
wisdom and by his decree indispensable to his in-
tent of love, to his eternal desire to bless the world.
I know how hard it is to feel it; even while I
speak the words to you my own heart comes far,
very far, from knowing how true they are, how
true they must be, how sincere is their disclosure
of the Eternal Love ; how divine, immortal, is the
life to which they lead us. But let us not in all
our distrust and with all our humility oppose our-
selves to the heart of the Eternal which is " most
wonderfully kind," or fail to accept the appoint-
ment of his compassion and his love who gave his
Son from heaven, and who gives his heavenly Son
to the world through our lives. Oh, that we had
faith enough, humility enough, aspiration enough,
to read into our thoughts and to write over our
hearts and upon our lips the words of infinite
assurance, " I am the vine, ye are the branches ;
herein is my Father glorified that ye bear much
fruit ; and so shall ye be my disciples ! "

I think we can all feel the delight, the inex-
pressible advantage, of thus finding the goodness
of God diffused among men who enjoy it them-
selves, and are able to scatter it upon the air, and

THE PLACE OF THE BRANCH 139

to make it everywhere the blessing of men. Sup-
pose there were far away some immense tree, only
one in all the world and that remote from men,
bearing roses of marvelous beauty and of surpass-
ing fragrance, and that every year some ship com-
ing from the distant shore should bring to us the
flowers. How we should hasten to the pier, watch
for the coming vessel, take the things of beauty,
examine them, enjoy them, treasure them ! What
a delight it would be, and what a privilege, to live
where they might come to us! But think how
much better is that common blessing so familiar
to us, coming now to be received again, as " the
miracle of spring" becomes the daily beauty of
the summer, when every one, the poor man and the
child, can have the roses growing under his own
window, can watch the first appearing of the leaves,
can see the buds form themselves, and expand and
open, and put forth the heralds of their beauty,
and slowly burst into the roses which we may look
upon as they grow, which we may take into our
hands, which we may carry to the sick, which we
can place in the guest-chamber to give the welcome
of beauty to a coming friend. Splendid it might
be and glorious, the one rose-tree in the heart of
India; but more glorious still, and abounding in
all which makes us happier, more full of joy in the
good gift, are the countless roses which keep their
sweetness beside our door.

140 TEE PLACE OF THE BRANCH

But there are other advantages that might be
mentioned here. By this method of giving the
blessing through the vine, and the blessing of the
vine through many branches, the fruit is found in
many places and at all times, and where the bless-
ings of God come to men through men, it makes
them more real to us, perhaps easier to take them
because the hand of a neighbor is reached out to us.
Then those who bring the blessings to us are those
who have made proof of them. They bring to us
comfort which they have themselves felt. They
stand as witnesses to the transforming and sustain-
ing power of the truth they preach to us. They
illustrate in their own lives and out of their own
experience that which evidently our like necessity
requires and can enjoy. They teach us the grace
of prayer by praying themselves. They show us
faith by being faithful. They make us know the
power of the spirit of God by living in the power
of the spirit. They are living witnesses, wearing
worthily the name which the ascending Lord gave
to men that day when He was to ascend from
Olivet, saying, " Ye shall be witnesses unto me."

There is another advantage to be noticed of
which we are inclined to make less account, but
which we do not quite forget, and which it is surely
like the good Lord who loves us all constantly to
remember, and that is the great advantage it is to

THE PLACE OF THE BBANCH 141

us to carry to the world the gift of God. What
can be purer delight than to stand between his
infinite compassion and the world toward which
He is compassionate, and to take from his hands,
which overflow with goodness, the goodness He
would give to those He loves ? It is not merely
comfort or sympathy. The world is not a hospital,
and life is not a walk through its wards with med-
icine in our hands. It is a place where the sick
are, and the poor, and the sad, and it is our priv-
ilege to carry to them the solace of God ; but the
world is quite as really and more largely a gymna-
sium where we can set all our powers in exercise,
and train ourselves until we become athletes, with
a vigorous faith, an exultant hope, and a charity
that never can be tired. For our own growth in
all that is worthy of us, for the enlargement of
our manhood, for the expansion of our own hearts,
do we need what is so generously granted us, the
opportunity in God's name to be God's ministers
of his mercy to the world. The fruitful branch
has not merely the joy of fruitage as a memory or
a present consciousness, but the confidence that
bearing fruit is but the prelude to bearing more
fruit, and that the delight of the life which is ap-
pointed us is the certain anticipation of more life
and more delight which are close at hand.

We ought to notice that it is a very great honor

1-42 77//: PLACE OF THE BRANCH

that God rives when He brings to ns his strong
commandments which are not trivial wishes for
feeble men. an easy path for timid feet, a small
task for small minds, but are great commandments,
sublime, calling for highest virtue, yet bidding us
do nothing which is not possible, and to do those
things which shall make us most like Himself. In
these opportunities for service a like honor comes
to us. We are not called to little things, chance
gifts, the teaching of things that we have studied
out, to the giving of that which our unskilled fingers
have made. We are first empowered with divine
life, truth, energy, and then permitted to give to
men great gifts which shall make them think of the
great Giver. The form of the gift may be small,
the deed of helpfulness may be in some common
way, but nothing is small or common which helps
men to live a truer life in a finer spirit. Graciously
sublime is that teaching of our Lord which sounds
to us like duty, but to the open eye looks like
glory : " Let your light so shine before men that
they may see your good works and glorify your
Father which is in heaven." But why should we
give the glory to Him ? Because the good works
are his ; it is the life of the vine which by the
branch becomes the grape.

It is noticed that in all this there is no descrip-
tion of the fruit. No description is needed. God

THE PLACE OF THE BBANCH 143

knows well what He will do. He comes with his
own purpose to us. We learn it from Him. We
fulfill it. The vine knows how to bear grapes, and
it is the knowledge of the vine that the branch
uses. Yet we are well able to see as we look at
the fruitful life of Christ in the world, what the
fruit is. We see it at Nazareth, when He tells
what He will do. We hear it when He sends the
word of confidence to his forerunner who is in
prison. We find it in that life so full of benefi-
cence when words of blessing fell from his lips,
and strength from his hands, when light flashed
from the ends of his fingers, and healing was
plucked from the border of his robe ; and in the
redeeming purpose which He steadily declared,
which led him to Jerusalem and Gethsemane and
Calvary. That which He did, being here, He
would still be doing and completing; only now
He has ascended, and will stand in those He has
appointed in his place. "I am the vine, ye are
the branches," He said.

Have we learned this ? Not all of us. Few of
us perfectly. Hence it is that the world is still so
poor, so blind and sorrowful. We believe in Him
and would serve Him. We look upon the world
and pity it, but we do not readily keep our faith
and love together. One of the wisest of our Har-
vard professors said to me, " There are plenty of

14-4 THE PLACE OF THE BRANCH

students who know two and two, but there are few
students who know that two and two make four ; "
that is, who are able to combine the different
parts of their knowledge, to see the principles of
life in history, and the meaning of history in the
principles which it embodies. With all good in-
tentions we may fail in that way, praying to God
and worshiping Him as if the world were not given
into our keeping, or trying to keep the world as
if it were not God who had intrusted it to us. If
now we can see that as branches the vine depends
upon us, and if we can see that men are looking
to us, we shall be incited to turn the life of God
into fruit, that He may be served, and to give the
fruit to men that their wants may be regarded.
We have no call to be anxious for the world, but
to be diligent in our care for it. God has never
forsaken the world. Why should He not care for
it ? Shall we stand at one side, then, and let Him
do his work? Nay, stand at two sides, and let
Him do his work. The branch has two extremi-
ties. Let us cling on the one side to the Lord
whom we trust and serve, and take abundant life
from Him, and then bear it on to those whom we
can reach, uniting thus our fidelity to Him who
has appointed us with our charity for those who
are given to our care. The disciples followed
Christ, and believed in Him. They pitied the

THE PLACE OF THE BRANCH 145

hungry multitude, and would have had them sent
to the villages to buy bread. Christ called upon
them not to separate what He had joined together ;
to hold fast their faith in Him and their pity for
the people ; and while like branches they reached
out to the multitude seated upon the grass, He
walked with them, and by their hands made the
scanty loaves feed the waiting thousands.

Oh, friends, let us know our calling and accept
it ! Pray and work, pray for the poor as we do,
but never forget to pray for ourselves. Pray for
those who need our help, to Him whose help we
need. We pray much for others. It is well.
Suppose for a day or two we give the burden of
our prayers to petitions for ourselves ; not praying
immediately that the people may pluck grapes, but
praying immediately that we may give the people
grapes which they can pluck. Pray that there
may be no hungry children in the world, but pause
long enough to carry out the bread we have, or to
get more bread that we may carry out. Pray that
the kingdom of God may come, but meanwhile see
that no missionary is recalled and no missionary
school is closed. The world will want but little
so soon as we have taken much, and if we are
faithful in receiving, the world will be blessed in
receiving also. Give what you have is a prudent
rule ; but have what you can give is a true law for
ourselves and for the world.

146 THE PLACE OF THE BRANCH

May I tell you now a little thing that came to
me last night ? I had been thinking all the week
upon this which I have said, and it seemed to need
clearness in my thought ; and so, when Saturday-
was over, a long and weary day, I sat before a
blackened hearth. Then a boy, standing for one
who brings a divine life, laid logs of wood one
upon another, and in some mysterious way a fire
sprang up among them. It flowed over them, and
made them glow in splendor, and they entered into
it all, and crackled, and snapped their fingers in
delight; and the fire warmed them to the heart,
and then they gave out the warmth, and I felt it
who sat before them, and the whole room felt it.
The fire rose up between the logs leaping and
dancing, and sending out its light to illumine the
room, and making the evening air within bright
and warm. I wondered whether it was the fire
that made the wood burn, or the wood that made
the fire burn, and I could not wait to find out.
But that which I had been thinking about, and
waiting for, came to me in the simple parable of
fire and wood. For thus it is the life of God
comes to us, brightening our life, warming our
heart, sending forth its own brightness in ours,
and taking us up into its own thought and intent ;
living in us, letting us live in it, till the world is
helped to God's life and ours, our life and God's,

THE PLACE OF THE BBANCH 147

and no one thinks to part the two. Do not lay a
heavy hand on my frail analogy. I know how
fragile it is. It came to me when I needed it,
therefore I tell it here. Can we let the divine life
come to us, s^ us on fire, enshroud us with its
glory? Can we consent that it shall seem to con-
sume us, while it takes our life into itself, and as-
cending bears it into the Eternal Life and Light ?

IX

THE STORY OF A NEW ENGLAND CHURCH

Psalm cxxii.

THE STORY OF A NEW ENGLAND
CHURCH

On the third day of October, 1635, the ship
Defence, of London, arrived at Boston. It had
been a "longsome voyage" of nearly two months,
for the ship was " very rotten and unfit for such a
voyage," and at the first storm began to leak badly,
so that the passengers thought they might have to
turn back. Among her passengers was a young
Puritan minister who had been driven out of
England, with his wife and young child. They
were welcomed by many friends, and entertained
for a day or two, and then they crossed the river
to Newtown. It happened just at that time that
many of the settlers of this village were preparing
to remove to Connecticut. This young minister,
Thomas Shepard, and his friends, numbering about
sixty persons, decided to remain until they could
find a better place, and a few of the former settlers,
reluctant to remove, remained with them. Among
these was John Bridge, a man prominent in the
affairs of the town, whose services have recently

152 STOBT OF A NEW ENGLAND CHURCH

been recognised in a statue of bronze. He was

among those who had invited Shepard to come to

the New World, and had provided a plaee for him.
In the following February these new comers desired
to be properly organized as a church. They gained

the approbation of the magistrates, and invited the
neighboring churches to be present and to assist
"in constituting their body." With carefulness
and dignity, with regard for order, and an ample
sense of the fitness of things, they formed the new
church, following in their thought the simple
methods of the New Testament. The leading
members were men of learning, high character, and
exalted purpose, who had consented to become
exiles that they might enjoy the religious liberty
which was to them more than comfort and life.
They entered into a solemn covenant whereby they
promised to walk in all their ways according to the
rules of the gospel, " and in mutual love and respect
each to other, so near as God shall give us grace."'
They were few in number, perhaps only seven, for
it was considered that seven was a convenient
number for a church. Thus the beginnine was
made. It was great in its intent and in its results.
It was an entire church : independent, in that there
was no human authority over it ; Congregational, in
that it was in fellowship with all the churches along
the Xew England coast. Clearly, the church was

STORY OF A NEW ENGLAND CHURCH 153

not the house in which it worshiped. It did not
include those of the company who had not entered
into covenant. It did not include any of the other
villagers, though they might be connected with it
in its services, and aid in meeting its expenses.
The church was those men and women, and only
those, who had made covenant one with another
in the sight of God. In this integrity it was to
remain.

The wife of the young minister had encouraged
him to leave his own country and seek another
beyond the sea. His own account of her influence
is full of meaning : " My dear wife did much long
to see me settled there in peace, and so put me on
to it." The name of Margaret Shepard deserves
the honor with which it is regarded. Her husband's
testimony is all that she could desire : " When the
Lord had fitted a wife for me he then gave me
her, who was a most sweet, humble woman, full of
Christ, and a very discerning Christian; a wife
who was most incomparably loving to me and every
way amiable and holy, and endued with a very
sweet spirit of prayer." ..." Thus did I marry
the best and fittest woman in the world unto me."
The voyage had been a very hard one for the young
Yorkshire mother. In one of the many storms, the
husband writes, "my dear wife took such a cold
and got such weakness as that she fell into a con.-

154 STOEY OF A NEW ENGLAND CIIUBCH

sumption, of which she afterward died ; and also
the Lord preserved her with the child in her arms
from imminent and apparent death, for by the
shaking of the ship in a violent storm her head was
pitched against an iron bolt and the Lord miracu-
lously preserved the child and recovered my wife.
This was a great affliction to me, and was a cause
of many sad thoughts in the ship how to behave
myself when I came to New England." We must
allow the sorrowing minister to continue the story
of his wife. A fortnight after the formation of the
church, " my dear wife Margaret died, being first
received into church fellowship, which as she much
longed for so the Lord did so sweeten it unto her,
that she was hereby exceedingly cheered and com-
forted with the sense of God's love, which continued
until her last gasp."

We can have no better waymarks for the story
we are relating than the series of meeting-houses in
which the church had its home. The first was one
which it had taken from the earlier settlers. It
stood by the side of the river, and it was a small
house, probably of logs, but was dignified with a
bell. It could not have been humbler than the
first meeting-house in Boston, which had mud walls
and a thatched roof. It was a small house, but it
was the home of great men and great deeds. At
the organization of the church we must imagine the

STOBY OF A NEW ENGLAND CHURCH 155

presence of the two Winthrops, and Harry Vane,
Dudley and Haynes, Cotton and Wilson, Hooker
and Mather ; and among the members of the church
were men of prominence in the colony. The humble
structure contented men who had left the stately
churches of England that they might enjoy freedom
of thought and speech. "A wilderness is sweet
with liberty." The house was the scene of large
events. Dates are of importance here. It was in
February that the church was formed. In October
of the same year the General Court passed an order,
" To give Four Hundred Pounds towards a School
or College." In 1637, the Court appointed twelve
eminent men "to take order for a College at
Newtown." Thomas Shepard was one of the twelve,
and it is given as a reason for erecting the college
in Newtown that this was " place very pleasant and
accommodate," and then " under the orthodox and
soul-flourishing ministry of Mr. Thomas Shepard."
In 1638, the place was called Cambridge, because
the college was here, and nearly all the men who
were interested in it had been trained on the banks
of the Cam. In that year, 1638, John Harvard
died, bequeathing his library and one half of his
property to the young college. The amount was
nearly double the appropriation made by the
General Court. That Massachusetts Assembly,
presided over by Harry Vane, has been said to be

156 STOBY OF A NEW ENGLAND CHURCH

"the first body in which the people, by their
representatives, ever gave their own money to found
a place of education." It was fitting that it should
bear the name of Harvard and that his statue, the
gift of John Bridge, a deacon of the church,* should
stand among the University buildings. The tribute
of Shepard to Harvard is a biography : " This man
was a scholar and pious in his life and enlarged
toward the country and the good of it in life and
death." Both men were of Emmanuel College,
where the Puritan influence was strong and bold ;
both felt the spirit of their time and their place,
which they bore with them over the sea and
embodied in the new church and the new college.
No one knows the exact burial-place of either of
the men, but each has a nobler monument. In 1642
the first college Commencement was held in the log
meeting-house. The class was small. In 1646 but
nine men were graduated, and in 1686 but seven.
A church of seven members was not small by
comparison, and the numbers were speedily and
steadily enlarged. In 1648 the Cambridge plat-
form of church discipline was framed by a synod
assembled in the same meeting-house, and this
became the basis for the churches of the colony.
The small church, in the small house, preserved
with dignity the ordinances of religion. The
members of the church bore their part in all the

STOEY OF A NEW ENGLAND CHURCH 157

affairs of the town and made with those who did
not enter into their covenant the community of
common interests and a common life. It was a
wonderful advantage to church and town that the
first citizen was this young minister. His life had
been a troubled one, but its troubles enhanced its
power. His biographers well-nigh exhaust the
language in their attempts to describe him. They
present him as " a poor, weak, pale-complexioned
man," but again as " the holy, heavenly, sweet,
affecting and soul-ravishing minister ; " " this soul-
melting preacher." He was " that gracious, sweet,
heavenly-minded and soul-ravishing minister, in
whose soul the Lord shed abroad his love so
abundantly that thousands of souls have cause to.
bless God for him." One of the college students
has recorded the impression made upon him by the
godly minister to whom he listened: "Unless it
had been four years living in heaven, I know not
how I could have more cause to bless God with
wonder, than for those four years." He was a
scholar who carried his entire learning and ability
into his work. We have his sermons still, and they
are good reading, even now. With his opinions
few would now entirely agree, but to the principles
upon which they were based, and the spirit with
which they were inspired, thoughtful men wTill pay
reverence. Some one has made the computation

158 s

that in : upon the Religious Affections,

Jonathan Edwards, more than half the . :a-

sh paid. I [> v-; -
pithy . 5. I v.-:-;: ;ha: I c

of them. Thus he illustrates the wealth of the
poor man who is united to Christ : " A woman that
is matched to a prince may have never a penny in
her purse, and yet she reioieeth that her husband
:h it." I must add this. " Mariners long to be
on shore : but before they come there they would
not venture in a mist, but see land first : so should
we desire the Lord in the land of the living. It is
the honor of a Christian to be ripe for death
betimes, yet still before he is ripe he is not to desire
it. Children that will be up before it is day must
be whipped : a rod is most fit for them ; stay till it
is day." His preparation for preaching furnishes
:, eood example for the preachers of later times.
It is said that he always finished his preparation
forthr ".-._"":: "" : dock on Saturday afternoon.

Minting " that God would curse that man's labors
goes lumbering up and down the world all the
:u:l then upon Saturday afternoon goes into
his study, when, as God knows, that time were little
enough to pray in and weep in and get his he: rt
into a frame fit for the approaching Sabbath."
TTe cannot overestimate the such a man

to the new communitv. nor can we trace what we

STOBY OF A NEW ENGLAND CHURCH 159

cannot fail to acknowledge, the benefit which for
many generations the town held as an inheritance
from him.

In 1637, he married Joanna, the eldest daughter
of his friend, Thomas Hooker. The husband's
record is artless and affectionate : " She lived
almost nine years with me, and was the comfort of
my life to me." Afterward he married Margaret
Boradel, who would doubtless have gained from
him a similar affectionate testimony had he lived
to make a record of her excellence ; but in 1649,
on the 25th of August, he made his will and com-
mitted his soul to God. He had prepared himself
for the hour of his departure. " As to myself," he
said, " I can say three things : that the study of
every sermon cost me tears ; that before I preached
a sermon I got good by it myself; and that I
always went up into the pulpit as if I were to
give up my account to my Master." He was natu-
rally solicitous for the church in which he had
invested his life. When he heard that Jonathan
Mitchel, a graduate of the college, had gained the
favor of the people, he was content. To the
younger minister, he said that " this was the place
where he should, by right, be all the rest of his
days." He asked some of the people " how Mr.
MitcheFs first sermon was approved among them.
They told him very well. Then, said he, my work
is done." In a few days he was at rest.

160 STOUT OF A NEW ENGLAND CHURCH

"His name and office sweetly did agree ;
Shepard, by name, and in his ministry."

Then the church called the man who had been
approved to be its minister. He came to be known
as the " matchless Mitchel." He was an over-hard
student, it is said. These words are preserved,
given to one who sought his counsel : " My serious
advice to you is, that you keep out of company, as
far as Christianity and civility will give you leave ;
take it from me ! the time spent in your study you
will generally find spent the most profitably, com-
fortably, and accountably." " The College was
nearer unto his heart than it was to his house,
though next adjoining to it." So great was the
esteem in which he was held that President Mather
thus advised the students : " Say each of you,
Mitchel shall be the example whom I will imitate."
Eichard Baxter said of him " that if there could
be convened an (Ecumenical council of the whole
Christian world, that man would be worthy to be
the Moderator of it."

He was a thorough successor. Not only did he
become the minister of the church and the tenant
of the parsonage, but he became also the husband
of the widow. He had intended to marry Sarah
Cotton, a daughter of the great divine, who readily
gave his consent. " But the immature death of
that hopeful young gentlewoman " prevented " so

STORY OF A NEW ENGLAND CHURCH 161

desirable a match." Then he turned to the young
gentlewoman who had been so lately bereaved.
The students celebrated the marriage with epitha-
lamiums ; and upon the ancient steward's book is
an entry in Mitchel's account whereby he is debtor
" by commones and sisinges and a super on his
weedinge night."

The little meeting-house had become endeared to
the church as its home for fourteen years, and it
was pleasant, as they thought of it, to recall the
words of the New Testament, which truly described
it as " a place by the river-side where prayer was
wont to be made." But the time had come when
the church must move. It had been an enterpris-
ing church. Not content with the sound of its
bell, it sent out a man with a drum to call the peo-
ple. Edward Johnson's story has come down to
us, of his wandering out from Charlestown till he
came to a large plain where he heard the sound of
a drum. He asked a man whom he met what the
drum meant, and was told that it was to call the
people to Mr. Shepard's meeting-house. From
curiosity, or perhaps from the fame of the preacher,
he found his way to the house, where he stayed
until the pulpit-glass was turned up twice, and he
was " metamorphosed, and was fain to hang down
his head lest his watery eyes should blab abroad
the secret conjunction of his affections." The

162 STORY OF A NEW ENGLAND CHURCH

result was that he resolved to live and die with the
ministers of New England.

A church with so much enterprise must advance
with the town in which it lived. So it moved up
to the college, and there, within wiiat is now the
college yard, on Watch-house Hill, the second
meeting-house was erected. There Mitchells minis-
try was passed and the ministry of Urian Oakes,
at once the minister of the church and the president
of the college. He was a faithful man, learned
and unwearied in the abundant services to wilieh
he was called. But at length it became necessary
that he should be assisted, and Mr. Nathaniel
Gookin, of a family famous in the early annals of
the town, received a call " to be helpful in the
ministry in order to be called to office in time
convenient." There began the long ministry of
William Brattle, of another prominent family.

It may be well, perhaps, to look for a moment
into one of those early meeting-houses. We should
find a plain room, divided by a central passage,
the men upon one side, and the women upon the
other. If it were in the very early days, not un-
likely some of the men would have carnal weapons.
A little later, as the church became able, the
house was improved according to the custom of
the times. The pulpit was an elaborate structure,
with a sounding-board, and the elders and the

STORY OF A NEW ENGLAND CHURCH 163

deacons sat under it, facing the congregation. The
boys had a place by themselves, with a tithing-man
to assist them to good behavior. In 1666, Thomas
Fox " is ordered to look to the youth in time of
public worship." At first the house had benches ;
afterward a space upon the floor was allotted to
one who wished it, and there he erected a pit or
pew, which he was to keep in repair, and he was
to "maintain all the glass against it." When
there was no such private arrangement seats were
assigned to the people according to their rank, or
property, or age. The proper length for a sermon
was an hour, although upon occasions the preacher
might " take another glass," as it was facetiously
described, and for his convenience, a well-regulated
hour-glass was provided. ' Every Sabbath afternoon,
there was a contribution, when the people passed
up to the deacons' seats with their offerings. They
went with suitable decorum. The magistrates and
chief gentlemen went first, then the elders, then
all the congregation of men, and most of them that
were not of the church, all single persons, widows
and women in absence of their husbands. Money
and papers were dropped into a box; any other
chattel was set down before the deacons. The
stranger's money was often regarded by the clergy-
man as his perquisite. His salary was paid from
the voluntary contribution, at first, but afterwards

164 STOEY OF A XEW EXGLAXL CHURCH

by ' Mr. Shepard's salary is given as

:ity pounds, which was among the largest of
the times. Marriage was performed before a
magistrate. TVinthrop mentions a great marriage
in Boston, when the bridegroom invited his minis-
ter to preach, but the magistrate sent word to him
to forbear. The ministers were usually present at
a burial, but nothing was read and no sermon was
made. Funerals were somewhat expensive, espe-
cially when a person of note was buried. This
became more exacting as life became more luxuri-
ous. In 1768. there is a record of a burial in
Ipswich, when the bearers were furnished with
gold rings, and the attending ministers received
eighteen pairs of white leather gloves. At length
an act was passed to retrench these extraordinary
expenses.

Fifty years passed on. and the church in Cam-
bridge erected its third house of worship on the
same place in the college yard : and the college.
that year. 1706. graduated seven men. Fifty
years later the church erected its fourth meeting-
house, and in the same place : and that year there
were twenty-five graduates. All things were in-
creasing. This house was more stately than the
others. The college gave one seventh part of the
t of erecting it and keeping it in repair, and
thus secured privileges for its officers and students.

STORY OF A NEW ENGLAND CHURCH 165

The connection of the church and the college,
under a different arrangement, has continued until
this time. That was a distinguished house. Presi-
dent Quincy said of it after it was removed, " In
this edifice all the public Commencements and
solemn inaugurations, during more than seventy-
years, were celebrated ; and no building in Massa-
chusetts can compare with it in the number of dis-
tinguished men who at different times have been
assembled within its walls." Washington and his
companions in arms worshiped there, and there
Lafayette was welcomed " on his triumphal visit to
the United States." There was the latter half of
the long pastorate of Nathaniel Appleton which
has been the despair of his successors ; for who
can hope to be the minister of one people for sixty-
six years ? It seems almost unkind that he should
have held so long the monopoly of the position.
But the people were content. He was well es-
teemed, and many traces of his vigilance remain.
The written record of his labors comprises little
more than lists of persons baptized, married, and
received into the church. But he was studious in
his care for the lands belonging to the church and
congregation, and devised a plan for enlarging, by
means of them, the revenues of the parish. He
received a goodly portion of his salary in the gifts
of the people. We have the record of loads of

166 STOBY OF A NEW ENGLAND CHUBCH

wood that were brought to him, after what he
terms " a good and laudable custom," that had
been dead before Mr. Brattle's death, but had
afterward been revived. The list in Mr. Brattle's
time shows the simplicity of the life of the town
and church. Goody Gove brought a pound of
butter, Dr. Oliver, " a line Pork," but Sarah Fer-
guson presented a pig, which, however, was valued
at threepence less than Dr. Oliver's section, which
gives some hint of the dimensions of the pig.
Then there are " 2 powthering Tubs," a tub of salt
beef, and wine, and what is written as " Bear," but
was in all probability another commodity. Mr.
Appleton's salary had been a hundred pounds, yet
in 1778 it was six hundred pounds. In '83, it had
risen to two thousand and twenty-five pounds.
There is history between these payments. Great
things had been done between '77 and '83. The
large salary was nearly all in paper currency, with
only a pittance of silver. The good man was con-
strained to take what the people were obliged to
give. But there is a touching pathos in the simple
statement which remains upon the church books,
in his own handwriting, as he took his paper bills
and consented to call them money, " although they
are greatly depreciated." The Eevolution had
come ; the colonies had become a republic, and we
know what must have been prominent in the minds

STORY OF A NEW ENGLAND CHURCH 167

of minister and people, the theme of many a ser-
mon, the burden of many a prayer, the material
for many anxious conversations along the streets
and in the homes, and at last the spirit of the
rejoicing which burst into song and rose into dox-
ology.

But while this meeting-house was the home of
the people, there befell the church a greater event
than had entered into its history during the two
centuries which were gone. In that house was the
ministry of a man who deserved the reverence with
which he was regarded. As a scholar he held to
the principles which had ruled the church life from
the beginning, and he preached the truth as it had
been proclaimed in four meeting-houses, and illus-
trated and adorned it in his own walk and conver-
sation. The early part of the century was a period
of division in many New England churches by
reason of new opinions which had come in, and
later than in most places the separation came to
this church, and to those who were in alliance with
it, who shared in the cost of its services, and were
as the shell to the kernel, or the body to the spirit.
They were the town, or that portion of the town,
whose religious home was in this sanctuary. A
majority of the parish, as it was termed, were in
favor of the new opinions, and from his office the
minister of the parish was dismissed. About two

168 STOBY OF A NEW ENGLAND CHURCH
thirds of the church and one half of the con<rre<ra-

o o

tion adhered to him. It was very hard for this
saintly man who had been the minister of church
and of parish for thirty-seven years. He was sixty-
six years old, and his long life had been marked
with fidelity and devotion which no one ques-
tioned. A Sabbath day came when the minister
and the deacons and the church went their accus-
tomed way to the meeting-house, to find it closed
against them. It was hard for the sixty persons
who were in sympathy with the minister to leave
for this cause the house which had been the home
of their fathers. For the church to stand with the
minister was by the decree of the Court the relin-
quishment of the civil rights which belonged to it
in its connection with the parish, and of the pre-
cious Communion service, and the money which it
had gathered and kept for charity. The ecclesias-
tical rights of the church were of course retained.
With heavy hearts the church and the minister
with his deacons turned away from their home. It
was like them to turn away, for they inherited the
spirit and the act. The founders of the church
had turned away from their homes and had crossed
the sea. These new exiles only crossed the street,
but the street was wider than the ocean had been,
and there was no return. Looking down upon the
public square which is now the scene of hopeless

STORY OF A NEW ENGLAND CHURCH 169

confusion, but then was resting in the quiet of the
Sabbath, a quietness deepened by the sadness of
their spirit and the solemnity of their act, stood
the plain village court-house. Up the steps of this
house of the law went these pilgrims, great in their
confidence and cherishing their alliance with the
devoted men of the earliest day. It was a meeting
of profound and sacred interest which was held in
this strange place on that strange morning. There,
for two years, the church had its home. For their
meetings for prayer and conference they resorted
to a room in their " own hired house," and at dusk
brave women were seen passing along the streets,
bearing their lamps, — brave women, for as they
went the profane jeered at them as " foolish vir-
gins." The term was not well chosen, for they
had oil in their vessels with their lamps, — the oil
which had not failed since Margaret Shepard
walked in its light.

A new society was formed which should take
the place of the parish, and very soon the purpose
was carried out to erect another meeting-house for
themselves. Neighboring churches gave them as-
sistance, and soon the old church and new society
were able to begin their work. It happens often in
this world that life turns upon itself, and we come
back to places to which we were once accustomed.
So they retraced the path which led to the river,

170 STOEY OF A NEW ENGLAND CHURCH

and to the place where the log meeting-house had
been. In two centuries the house had been re-
moved, and its place was covered. But near by,
just over the way, was a lot of land which a kind
woman of the church gave to them, and there they
builded their house. It was a large building for
them and for their ability, but it was suited to
their wants, and was not without taste. Washing-
ton Allston drew the plan for the tower, and the
tradition is preserved that he liked to take stran-
gers at evening to a spot a hundred rods from the
building, and, asking his companions to mark the
simple beauty of the unassuming structure, to
repeat the familiar lines, —

" If thou wouldst view fair Melrose aright,
Go visit it by the pale moonlight.' '

There the official ministry of the venerable and
venerated Abiel Holmes came to a close, although
he lived until 1837. His last years were years of
usefulness and peace, but he felt deeply the pathos
of this closing period of a long life. The manu-
script of his farewell sermon is preserved. The
text was this : " For now we live, if ye stand fast
in the Lord." It was full of affectionate advice
and blessing. The impression was unspeakably
touching, when after the sermon the aged man of
God gave out for singing the 71st Psalm : —

STORY OF A NEW ENGLAND CHURCH 171

" God of my childhood and my youth,
The guide of all my days,
I have declar'd thy heavenly truth,
And told thy wondrous ways.

" Wilt thou forsake my hoary hairs,
And leave my fainting- heart ?
Who shall sustain my sinking years,
If God, my strength, depart ?

" The land of silence and of death
Attends my next remove j
0, may these poor remains of breath
Teach the wide world thy love ! ' '

He died in charity with the world. To a friend
who bent over him on the last night he gave indis-
tinct utterance to his thought, and said that he
. wTished his injuries written in sand. On the day
of his death the bells of the town were tolled in
recognition of his work and in tribute to his mem-
ory. He was a minister of the old school, an his-
torical scholar of wide repute, a gentleman full of
courtesy and kindness, a Christian in whom the
steadiness of faith was blended with the gentleness
of love. Some who were children in his day now
recall his kindly manner toward them, and like
to tell how, as he walked the street with his well-
remembered cane, he would pause at a group of
school-children, and with a pleasant question and
a word of counsel, would draw from his capacious

172 STORY OF A NEW ENGLAND CHURCH

pocket a handful of confectionery, which he dis-
tributed among the expectant listeners. And they
tell how he stood before the pulpit a few weeks
before his death, and gave a book to each of the
members of the Sabbath-school as they passed be-
fore him. No one can look upon the placid face
of the good man without feeling respect for one
who had served his generation so faithfully and
had carried himself so graciously through his long
life.

A young man, fresh from the seminary, had
been made the associate of the old minister, and
he became his successor. His ministry here was
of importance, but was very brief. After less
than five years he left the town to become the
minister of a church in Boston. This is note-
worthy, as the only instance in two hundred and
sixty years in which a minister has left this church
to become the pastor of another. On his retire-
ment another minister was called, who for thirty
years rendered distinguished service, not only to
his own people, but to the town and to the churches
through the State. Then there came to the church
a minister who remains until now in his place.
He found the meeting-house pleasant and conven-
ient, although too small, after having been three
times enlarged. He found a strong body of men,
a very compact and well-ordered congregation.

STORY OF A NEW ENGLAND CHURCH 173

Perhaps the experiences through which the church
had passed had given it the habit of self-respect
and self-reliance. There were men strong in the
law, eminent in science, prominent in business,
with honorable women not a few. There were
younger men coming forward to administer the
growing enterprise of the church, and the young
life was starting up which gave promise of new
energy. But it was very clear that the church
could not remain in the meeting-house which it
occupied. It turned back once again, and pausing
near the college purchased a piece of ground
which seems to have been reserved for its use.
The Washington elm was growing before it, and
over the street was the field where the soldiers of
the Revolution had their tents, while just beyond
were the buildings of the college. A skillful fore-
sight had secured the place, and very soon there
rose upon it a meeting-house very large and con-
venient, imposing in its architecture and generous
in all its appointments. Upon its lofty spire is the
proud cockerel who from 1721 watched above the
houses of Boston. To this new house the church
removed in 1872 ; there it has had its home, and
with its steadily enlarging congregation, with stu-
dents from two colleges, with strangers from many
places, it has done its work for the people who
have come within its gates, for the community

174 STOEY OF A NEW EXGLAXD CHUBCH

about it, for the country in whose beginning it
shared, and for the wide world committed to its
care. The membership of the church from the
seven of Thomas Shepard's day has come to be
more than seven hundred who are banded together
in devotion to the ancient faith, and in the fellow-
ship of the ancient covenant. In the history of
the church there are many events in which the
good hand of God is very plainly discerned, —
events which would not be out of place if an ex-
tension were to be made of the Acts of the
Apostles and they were included. That Provi-
dence which was in the beginning has been the sun
and shield of the church from its first days ; and
with confidence in God's purposes the church, now
strong and full of spirit, looks willingly down the
waiting years.

But what does all this mean? It means that
the faith " once for all delivered unto the saints "
has been preserved and has been preached as it
had been received and trusted by those who were
called here to make the church of God. We have
connected the history with the six meeting-houses,
but each house has been more than a dwelling-
place ; it has been the testimony of the people to
God. The walls, the spire, the bell, declare his
glory, and one who looks intelligently upon the
house thinks of God. It has been the home of the

STORY OF A NEW ENGLAND CHURCH 175

Christ whose name is upon the church of God.
The meeting-house has been the place wherein He
could meet his people, speak to them, comfort
them, impart to them of his own life, send them
out to minister to others. The meeting-house is
the home of the young who are brought to it,
where they are taught and trained in truth and
service and made ready for the time when the
church shall be in their hands. The meeting-
house is the place of memorial, the home of those
who live with God. They have their separate
homes, but only in the house of God are they
brought together where each generation can hold
fellowship with those that have passed on. It is
due to them, and to those who have entered into
their work, that the names of those that have gone
to their reward should keep their place. Friend-
ship is too sacred to be lost, honor is too costly to
be denied remembrance. There rises upon the
banks of the Danube the Valhalla with all its
splendor, where Germany preserves in statue and
bust and name those who have lived to make
Germany great. It is well that the meeting-house
should be such a place, where men may live to-
gether and those who remain may be in fellowship
with them. If it were for nothing else the meet-
ing-house which is old enough to have a history
will find ample reason for its being in that it

176 STOEY OF A NEW EXGLAXD CHUECH

furnishes a place for the communion of saints who
are on earth and who are in heaven. The house
becomes endeared when familiar forms are seen
walking through the aisles, when silent voices are
heard in the old hymns, and vanished hands clasp
our own, — the forms, the voices, the hands of
friends loved long since and never lost. And for
ourselves, for those who live to-day, our meeting-
house is out home. It becomes us to make its
worship sincere in spirit and in truth ; to keep its
service constant ; to cherish its divine comfort ; to
make its companionship complete, till it shall be,
in very truth, the house of God, where we may
find Him, and find ourselves, and sit in heavenly
places : and the gate of heaven, through which
our praise and prayer and treasure may ascend,
through which eternal blessings may come to us.
Soon and there will be no meeting-house, for in
that world of light and love toward which we has-
ten there is no temple, for the Lord God Almighty
and the Lamb are the temple of it. God grant
that we may come to it! Meantime, let us prepare
for it, become familiar with its service, learn its
songs of rejoicing, anticipating the glory and de-
light of those larger mansions in our Father's
house. It may be that there we shall recall the
days spent upon the earth, the communion of the

STORY OF A NEW ENGLAND CHURCH 111

church in its familiar places ; and perhaps when
we walk by the River of the Water of Life, and
praise God and the Lamb, we may pleasantly
remember the place by the river -side, "where
prayer was wont to be made."

X

THE PLACE OF THE PRAYER
Luke vi. 12

THE PLACE OF THE PRAYER

The life of our Lord was a life of giving. It
needed to be also a life of receiving. It brings us
very close to his great divine and human life, that
we find Him at the end of a weary day spending
the night in gathering strength for the work which
was before Him. He had been teaching in Caper-
naum, and from all the land the people in their
need had gathered about Him. They had come
from other parts of Galilee, from Judea, from
Jerusalem, from distant Edom, from Tyre and
Sidon, and every one brought a necessity which
nowhere else could be helped. They thronged
about Him, they touched Him, they besought Him ;
and men with evil spirits fell at his feet, crying,
" Thou art the Son of God." He healed many,
and when He could no longer endure what was
cast upon his willing heart He asked his disciples
to bring a boat that He might take refuge in it,
and from its security He spoke to the people stand-
ing upon the shore. At length the end came, and
leaving the throng, and leaving his friends, He

182 THE PLACE OF THE PBAYER

went up into the mountain and spent the whole
night in prayer. He needed to pray. Strong
though He was, He had still his need. At the
well of Samaria He needed to rest, for his weari-
ness was as real as ours has ever been, and it was
in a real thirst that he said to the woman, " Give
me to drink." There were times when angels
came and ministered to Him. But not rarely, con-
stantly He lived in prayer. Many times He was
found at prayer, but commonly it was in secret.
He prayed at the grave of Lazarus, when his sym-
pathy had taken the sorrow of his friends upon his
life. He prayed in Gethsemane, when his agony
was upon Him ; and at the last Passover, beneath
the shadow of the Cross, He breathed out the
prayer which is the most sacred portion of the
sacred Scriptures. It belonged to his humiliation,
it was a part of his true manhood, to pray, and
to Him came the strength He sought. From the
night upon the mountains He came refreshed to
his friends, and from his disciples chose twelve
who should attend Him, and henceforth there
were thirteen, less one, who were bearing his name
through the land.

The lesson is a very simple one. He who would
have the Christ life must needs have the Christ
strength, and he who would have this must seek it
in Christ's way. He went up into the mountain

THE PLACE OF THE PRAYER 183

and continued all night in prayer to God. It
is no reflection upon us, or upon the world, that
we have this constant necessity. It was never
meant that the world should give us all that
we require, or that we should find within our-
selves the strength which we must embody in our
life. It was never meant that men should be self-
supporting, or should find in the world which they
rule the rest and strength which the world needs
to receive from them. As well wonder that the
tree must reach out its branches for the sunshine,
or send down its roots to the water-springs, as that
man must look beyond himself for light and life.
Let us be reasonable. If we were of the world,
the world should care for us ; because we are of
God, God will care for us. Because Christ's work
is given to us, Christ's strength will be given to
us. Because we are branches, the vine will furnish
our life ; only like the vine himself, whose branches
we are, we must look to the husbandman for the
life which we can transform into grapes.

He who has made us thus dependent invites us
to ask of Him what we would have, to seek from
Him what the world would have from us. "It is
the comfort of our littleness that He is great."
Thus God makes our weakness into strength, and
from our dependence ordains the sacrament of
help, which He will keep with us.

184 THE rLACE OF THE P BAYER

This rule of life has been many times proved by
those who had desires for goodness and for useful-
ness. Prayer is the expression of the child's sim-
plicity and trust, and in our manhood those who
prove it find it faithful, and many turn to it when
the burden of life is heavy, and the way is weary.
It was very touching, a few days ago, to hear the
soldier with the empty sleeve speak of the great
leader who has lately been carried to his rest. He
visited him when the hand of death was on him,
when his throat was muffled, and he could not
clearly speak. He reminded him of his great
service. He told him that the country would
hold him always in grateful remembrance ; then
the muffled voice interrupted him, and with eager-
ness he turned to one of whose piety he was as
certain as of his courage, — t; Howard, tell me
more about prayer."

It has ruled great lives, this coming to God for
help. It has made men of gentle lives, quiet,
patient, refined. We have followed them along
the streets, sure that they were on errands of
mercy, and when we have returned with them we
have soon found them behind the closed door
where they were with their Father, telling Him
what they had seen and wrought, and praying for
his blessing on their deeds. Great lives have
borne great witness to the answer that comes to

THE PLACE OF THE PRAYER 185

prayer. I think that no one who has prayed
steadily has long questioned the worth of his
petitions. Prayer has been doubted, whether it
were of good or not ; but the doubt, if it has
lasted, has been of those who have not prayed, or
who have ceased to pray. Men can live without
it, and be useful, and generous, and kind, and
honest ; but it were strange if any man could be
so good as he ought to be, so strong as he needs
to be, so wise as he could easily be, who does
not follow the method of the gospel, and live in
prayer. If our Lord himself needed to pray,
surely all men need it. It is enough for the dis-
ciple to be as his master. His work was greater
than ours, but our work is greater than our wis-
dom, or our strength, and is meant to be, for the
strength is to be sought from above which will be
equal to the day that is appointed for us. So are
we taught. That we should pray, He was ever
teaching who gave Himself for us, and bade, us
give ourselves to the world. If every other rea-
son why we should pray failed us, there would be
one reason remaining which no heart that trusts
Him could ever put away : My Lord, my Saviour,
prayed, and told me to pray. So long as I trust
Him, I shall make my prayer as He has taught me.
It is a fine discovery that one makes when he
learns that he can hold intercourse with God. Of

186 THE rLACE OF THE PRAYER

greater worth than to discover a planet is it to
discover the right and faculty of prayer. Always
there is something sublime in it which we should
see if it were not so familiar. Think for a mo-
ment. That man yonder, making his prayer stand-
ing upon the earth, kneeling upon it, is separate
from it; and his soul, at liberty, has found the
heart of the Eternal, and they are communing
together. How majestic are those simple lines in
the old Scripture, " And Enoch walked with God ; "
" And the Lord talked with Moses." Here is the
disclosure of our nature, which is like to God,
so that we can understand Him, and know how to
speak to Him. It is a disclosure of our relation
to Him, that this fellowship belongs in his love to
us and is the answer of our love to Him. We
do few greater things than pray. He delights to
listen to our voice, and to grant us our requests.
To come into conscious intercourse with Him, so
that our desires become known to Him through
our naming of them, and are his desires, because
they are our own, — this is to rise above ourselves
into the grander life which lies beyond us and
around us. What comfort there is in this, and
what courage ! It reinforces our faltering strength.
It brightens the light where the oil is going out.
It keeps the heart sensitive and brave. It is more
than faith, for faith ministers to it. It holds faith,

THE PLACE OF THE PRAYER 187

but it goes beyond it. It has the greater privilege.
Faith reaches up its hands and finds God above ;
prayer drops its hands into the hands of God,
stretched down to us. The higher the life becomes
the more needful is it that we pray, in order that
it may be perfected. The more easy is it to pray
when our life has advanced toward its complete-
ness. As the high mountains are more readily
ascended than those that are lower, because they
give us broken crags, points of rock that our hands
may lay hold upon, ledges where the foot may place
itself, and not the smooth, rounded sides of the hills
beneath them ; so when we attempt a great ascent
in goodness, even to be perfect as our Father in
heaven is perfect, to glorify Him upon the earth
and to finish his work, and we have gone our way
rising above our life, it will be even more easy and
more delightful, as it is more needful, to take the
last step, where we shall stand upon the summit of
our manhood, and broaden our vision of the heaven
and the earth. When we have come really into
the knowledge of God, and have felt his hand upon
our head, and his breath upon our brow, and there
has been kindled within us a new aspiration, we
cannot find content till we have found Him ; and
we find Him when, as our Lord did, we lift our
eyes to heaven, and pray. Then from the heaven
comes the answer of his grace.

188 THE PLACE OF THE PBAYER

Do you not think that it is an ungracious,
almost heartless thing, to withhold our prayer
because we doubt if any good can conie to us if
we should pray? Could we not talk with God,
even if we were not paid for it ? Is it nothing
that we are able and are permitted to speak with
God ? It is not true that prayer does not bring a
blessing which otherwise we should not have. It
is true, and the very word of Christ, that they who
ask shall receive, and they who seek shall find.
It is true, and the very word of Christ, that they
who are to do his will must find strength where
He found it. But even if it were not so, that any
gain which we can measure comes to us, still the
true heart would come to God, were it for nothing
but the delight of being there with Him. It is
a mercantile spirit which tries to set the rules
of bargaining into the spiritual life. This spirit
of working for rewards, which brings figures into
affections, has always wrought havoc with religion.
We do better to trust our hearts in those things
which are truest in a man who bears the likeness
of his Maker. But one says, " God is love. He
knows what I need, and He will give it without
my asking." It is true that God is love, and
therefore that He will not give his best gifts with-
out our asking. The best gifts must be taken as
well as offered. The rain comes upon us whether

THE PLACE OF THE PRAYER 189

we care for it or not, but grace does not thus come.
We can be rained upon without our will, but we
cannot be loved upon till we consent. Love is not
thrown at us, as a ball is thrown against a fence,
to bound back into the hands that sent it. Love
must be taken into the willing heart, for there is
no love apart from willingness ; neither can we
feel the Divine Spirit entering into our spirit and
there working his will, unless in our liberty we
consent to have it so. It makes a great difference
whether the scholar wishes to learn or not. If the
teacher and the scholar have one desire, then the
lesson will be learned. It was an illiterate thought
that a teacher " learns " a scholar his lesson. He
teaches, the boy must needs do the learning for
himself. Prayer is the turning of the heart to
God, opening it, welcoming the intercourse with
God, receiving the Divine breath, the inspiration,
the power of the Divine Life. Why is it that the
gospel in all its course is never the thrusting of
mercy upon us, but the appeal to open our hearts
and receive it, and live in its truth ? " Come unto
me, and I will give," is the spirit of the gospel.
I do not know how much there might be given to
us if we did not pray. I do not want to know.
I think I might endure to have it so, that to
be blessed needed no prayer ; and yet I fear lest
the heart should be hardened, thankfulness should

190 THE TLACE OF THE PRAYER

be excluded, and selfishness should be even easier
than it is under the ordinance of God ; lest if it
found me very rich, I might draw within myself
and gather my wealth about me, as sometimes a
merchant, when he has sufficient gain, retires from
business. And what could be more dreary, more
desolate, more heartless, more dreadful, than that a
man's intercourse with God should be interrupted,
— that intercourse which dependence graciously
encourages. Far better were it that we should be
impoverished while still keeping the privilege of
prayer, thus keeping God, than that we should
have an untold wealth and should be separated
from Him. If I could ever do without the help of
my friend, I can never do without my friend. I
would rather have my friend in his poverty than to
have his wealth without his heart. Anything were
better than to have no God in our thought and love,
and it were hazardous to be so independent that
we should not be held under bonds we could not
break to bring our prayer to Him. To walk with
God, to have God talk with us, this is life, and
herein is prayer. It is a beautiful picture given
of it, whose meaning we cannot miss, in that
gentle saying of the gospel, " Now there was
leaning on Jesus' bosom one of his disciples whom
Jesus loved." That is prayer. Cherish the de-
light of it, rejoice in the strength of it.

THE PLACE OF THE PRAYER 191

1 1 0 holy trust ! O endless sense of rest !
Like the beloved John
To lay his head upon the Saviour's breast,
And thus to journey on ! "

What shall we say concerning the method of
prayer? There is no method, there is no rule,
no form which we must always keep. Life can-
not run in lines, but is free, like love. It is
beautiful, this vision of our Lord after that weary
day. He parted from men, and slowly, quietly,
went up the mount ; the world receded beneath
Him, and heaven drew nearer. At last He was
far enough above the world, and close enough to
heaven. Then He prayed. The night wore on,
and still He prayed. I think there is no more
sublime sight we have of Him than when we see
Him in the dimness of that night, when only the
stars looked down upon Him where He lay at rest,
on the bosom of the Eternal Love. It was as if
his spirit had gone out and had found the Eternal
Spirit, the Father, who had given Him to the
world, and there, resting, prayed. Not so fine as
this is the glory of the Transfiguration, for when
upon Hermon his face was radiant, and his gar-
ments glistened, it was Moses and Elias who
talked with Him. On this unnamed mount it was
God. I think there is nothing more sacred, — no
place where we would more readily put off our

192 THE PLACE OF THE PEAYER

shoes from off our feet, where we would cover our
eyes if they dared to search the twilight, in all the
way from Bethlehem, where He was born, to
Olivet, from whose height He returned into hea-
ven. The Son of God, alone with the Father,
through the long night, between two days of sacri-
fice, — I cannot think of anything ivpon the earth
more beautiful and holy than that. All the night
He continued in prayer : yet He was not asking-
all the night, or speaking. Sometimes He spoke,
but oftener He was still, simply staying there
thinking, feeling, receiving, resting, in the fellow-
ship of the heavenly Love. T\ hen the morning
broke, strengthened and comforted, He returned
into the world. That mountain was his closet, and
the door was shut. Xo one. not those who loved
Him best, would venture near Him. It was the
heavenly moment : it was eternity. The soul of
Christ was one with the spirit of the Father.

Let us bring his own deed into his own teaching
as it reaches our life. Enter into thy closet, He
said, thine inner chamber. Close the door. Let
no voices from the world find you. Yet carry the
world's need and your own want into the solitude,
and there wait with God. Take time for this com-
munion. Hours are well spent when they are
spent with Him. Some things can be hurried ;
prayer must be deliberate. There are times, in-

THE PLACE OF THE PRAYER 193

deed, when suddenly we cry out, as the sinking
Peter prayed, " Lord, save me ; " times when out
upon the street, in the strife and strain of daily
life, with the confusion of the earth about us, we
pray in brief sentences, in single words, without
words, and the prayer is true and acceptable with
God. But that we may pray instinctively, when
some necessity surprises us, we must have our
mind trained to ready worship ; and if we are to
pray amid the noises of the earth, we need to have
schooled ourselves in the quietness of the closet.
We must take time to find ourselves, to think
upon our wants, to know what things we have to
make confession of, what petitions best become our
day ; what wants there are without, in the house,
in the church, in the world, far away where the
lone workman builds for God, or the apostle in
the strange land proclaims the Father's love, the
Saviour's grace. We must take time to know our-
selves, to make ourselves conscious of God's pre-
sence, to let the spirit free itself from all that
would detain it, and thus to rest in God. The
closet favors this gathering together of our
thoughts. It is true that God is everywhere, but
we are not everywhere. Let us ask for that we
need, or better, for that God knows we need. Let
us ask that our will may rise to his will, and our
wishes find contentment in his purposes. Let us

194 THE FLACE OF THE FBAYER

ask, careful of our words, yet not fearful of mis-
take if so the heart be reverent, for He who has
bidden us speak to Him can change the manner
of our speaking and give to our desires a better
answer than they thought of. We are taught that
we may come boldly ; but the boldness is not in
ourselves, but in his understanding of us, of our
sincerity and submission and necessity. We are
alone with God, yet we are not alone, for He is
there who taught us our first prayer and our last,
who is our friend and God's, our Intercessor, and
we shall pray the better if our eyes are fixed on
Him, and we rest in his gracious mediation. It
was the beautiful habit in the heart of the great
English preacher, when he prayed, to lay his Greek
Testament open on the chair before him, that be-
tween him and the unseen Love with which he
held communion might be the blessed life which
revealed itself along the words which He had
spoken. Thus can we always have the strength-
ening of our faith, the purifying of our desires,
the commending of our requests, the gathering in
of our blessings, if we pray with our minds and
hearts resting in Him who brings us where we rest
in God.

I cannot help the thought which grows stead-
ily upon me, — I would not part with it unless I
were compelled, — that the better part of prayer is

THE PLACE OF THE PBAYER 195

not the asking, but the kneeling where we can ask,
the resting there, the staying there, drawing out the
willing moments in heavenly communion with God,
within the closet, with the night changed into the
brightness of the day by the light of Him who
all the night was in prayer to God. Just to be
there, at leisure from ourselves, at leisure from
the world, with our souls at liberty, with our spirit
feeling its kinship to the Divine Spirit, with our
life finding itself in the life of God, — this is
prayer. Would it be possible that one could be
thus with God, listening to Him, speaking to Him,
reposing upon his love, and not come out with a
shining face, a gladdened heart, an intent more
constant and more strong to give to the waiting
world which so sadly needs it what has been taken
from the heart of God ? Then, He who has led us
into the closet and patiently waited with us there
will lead us down the mountain where our work
lies, God's work. The vine will cling to the
branch, even as the branch holds fast to the vine
whose life it constantly takes, whose life it has
strongly taken in the night of prayer. He will
lead us on through our life beyond the world, up
into the mansions of the Father's house which
are prepared for us, where all the air will be full
of worship, and all the light will be the glory of
God and of the Lamb, and there still, and for-

196 THE PLACE OF THE PRAYER

ever, we shall find the closet where with God we
can be alone, though saints and angels sing be-
yond the door. It has been said that there will be
no prayer in heaven. I cannot think that it is
true. Certainly there is prayer in heaven now,
for there the High Priest makes intercession for
ns. There will always be prayer. They who think
that prayer means restlessness, and nnhappiness,
and is wholly the cry of sorrow and of pain, may
well say that there will be no prayer in heaven;
but they who think that prayer is intercourse with
God, being where He is, rejoicing, in the commun-
ion with Him, may well believe the prayer shall
be forever. We shall not pray all the night, for
there is no night there, but all the day. Where
the moments are centuries, and we live in the
celestial brightness, our very glory will be the
longing for more glory ; our joy will reach out for
more delight ; our songs will strive to be sweeter
and louder, and songs and joy and glory will find
their worth in this, that we can carry them within
the inner chamber, and there worship God in that
which He has given to us. Prayer will become
praise, we used to say ; but praise is prayer, for
praise is being in the presence of God, thanking
Him, and longing for more thankfulness, for more
holiness, and the very thought of Him will quicken
our desire more and more to please Him, as we

THE PLACE OF THE PRAYER 197

move on and on to that vision which the man saw
who in the paschal chamber rested on the Saviour's
breast, and taught us afterward that from being
beloved of God, and being his children, we shall
ascend to loftier heights, for when He shall ap-
pear whom our hearts love, and we shall look upon
Him in the eternal vision, we shall be like Him,
for we shall see Him, even as He is ; and till that
is perfected, our very likeness to Him will be the
desire for the perfecting of the image, and our
Christlike life will be our Christlike prayer.

" More things are wrought by prayer
Than this world dreams of. For what were men, . . .
If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer
Both for themselves and those who call them friend ?
For so the whole round earth is every way
Bound by gold chains about the feet of God."

XI

THE VIRTUE OF CLEAN HANDS

Job xvii. 9

THE VIRTUE OF CLEAN HANDS

There was a doctrine much enjoyed by our
fathers which they called " The perseverance of the
saints." It rested upon the belief that one who
had entered upon the Christian life and had been
born of God would be faithful to the end. This
was encouraged by the confidence of the apostle
that He who has begun a good work in the hearts
of men will carry it to perfection, and by the
assurance of our Lord that He would abide with
his friends, and by his prayer that they might be
kept from the evil of the world and brought where
they should behold his glory. The doctrine might
have been entitled, therefore, the continuance of
grace, or, again, the constancy of love. The truth
which is expressed is full of comfort for times of
discouragement, and of inspiration in all the diffi-
culty of the Christian way. Certainly every man
ought so to live that the doctrine shall be a part of
his daily thought.

We come upon this teaching in the ancient
Scriptures. We find Job confessing his faith in

202 THE VIRTUE OF CLEAN HANDS

this wise : " The righteous, also, shall hold on his
way, and he that hath clean hands shall be stronger
and stronger." In this he was asserting his own
rectitude, while he complained of his accusers and
made his appeal to God. In the midst of his
passionate sentences he declared the constancy of
the good man. In spite of all that he saw in him-
self, and after his sad experience, he cherished this
assurance ; and passing beyond himself he gave the
statement the general form in which we have it.
There is nothing strange in it, as we read it ; al-
though there may come to mind many instances
in which the righteous has not held on his way.
But why should he not keep to his fidelity, free
from the vicissitudes of life as the planet is beyond
the clouds which the wind drives beneath it?
Rectitude is from above, and should last. It is
commended by conscience, and should be retained.
It holds the eternal sanction, and should engage the
entire life.

The word " hands*" is a large one. It is used
for the man, oftentimes ; as when we speak of the
"hands" on a ship or in the factory. It is the
symbol of a varied helpfulness, as in the phrase
which has become familiar, "Lend a hand." It is
the outside of conduct, whose purposes and motives
are in the heart. It is with the hand that we touch
the world, and do our work for it. The heart is

THE VIRTUE OF CLEAN HANDS 203

disclosed by the hand. We make ourselves known
to ourselves by what we do, and we are judged
among our neighbors rather by our conduct than
by our words. There is precedent for this, as when
Christ taught that to say " Lord," and " Lord,"
would not be a title for acceptance, but to have
done the will of his Father who is in heaven.
Hence there is a constant call for clean hands
which do no unworthy thing, but are set in useful
deeds. It is by no means meant that clean hands
are enough. They have their value as the sign of
a clean heart, where the thoughts and intentions
are right. Together with our Lord's teaching of
the worth of good conduct, his highest Beatitude is
given to the pure in, heart, " They shall see God."
Clean hands are not empty hands. They are not
satisfied in keeping from the wrong, but only in
doing that which is right. They are more than
innocent, for they are virtuous. It is little that
they do not harm the world, for they are made to
help it. An empty hand is a selfish hand, and this
is the expression of a selfish soul. The purity of a
man is more than the purity of a child, because it
is invested in manly deeds. The ideal of a good
man is not a statue of Italian marble, spotless and
white. It is rather a sailor with the lines of his
vocation crossing his hands, or the farmer who
bears upon his palms the marks of his high calling.
Cleanness is purity and virtue.

204 THE VIRTUE OF CLEAN HANDS

There are many passages in the Bible in which
the importance of right conduct is asserted in the
strongest terms. " What doth the Lord thy God
require of thee, but to fear the Lord thy God, to
walk in all his ways, and to love Him, and to serve
the Lord thy God with all thy heart and with all
thy soul." "Fear God, and keep his command-
ments, for this is the whole duty of man." " He
hath shewed thee, O man, what is good ; and what
doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and
to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God ? "
These are popular passages ; but while their impor-
tance cannot be overstated, it is to be kept in mind
that they are by no means the entire teaching of
God. They are spoken against formality, against
content with prayers, and sacrifices, and offerings,
and all the outward acts which are connected with
religion. The tendency was, as it is to-day, to give
great carefulness to observances, and to find con-
tent in them, even while they were not consistent
with the tenor of the life, and came from an imper-
fect idea of that which is acceptable to God, and
were liked because of the great readiness with which
service could be rendered, compared with the exer-
tion which was needed in keeping the heart right
with God. The passages have been read from
their surface too often, while the mind has not en-
tered into the depths of the words. Surely they are

THE VIBTUE OF CLEAN HANDS 205

hard enough, as any one would find who should
attempt to change them into his own behavior.
To walk in all our ways according to the com-
mandments of God is sufficient for any man's
strength. Men have at times turned to these vigor-
ous sentences and admired them, because, as they
said, there was no creed in them. What could be
more thoughtless than that ? They contain a creed
definite and strict. It is a great confession for a
man to make in sincerity : " I believe in God, whom
I ought to serve and to love with all my heart and
mind and strength." A creed can hardly go
further than this, if one includes in the confession
the whole will of God, the entire compliance with
his words. We cannot take refuge in thinking of
the requirements of God as they were given in the
Old Testament. They are to be read in the light
of our own day, and heard in the teaching of Him
who came from heaven. If we regard them truly
we do not limit them, and they cover the Sermon
on the Mount and all the teachings of the Son of
God. The Old Testament is the tree in blossom,
the New Testament is the tree in fruit ; and he who
gathers what the tree gives gathers the fruit. The
early commandment is unfolded in the later, and
becomes more spiritual, and makes a stronger
appeal to the soul of the man, and no one has
rightly regarded it who does not receive it in its

THE VIRTUE OF CLEAN HANDS

completeness. It is not a transition, it is an
advance, when we pass without halting from the

law that was given by Moses, in which the grace
and truth were inclosed, to the grace and truth
given by Christ, in which the law that is the will of
God abides unchanged forever.

The beginning of the right heart and the clean
hands is in the recognition of God. From this
comes the vigor of the life. It is this which, in the
highest sense, constitutes a man. In these decla-
rations of our duty, given by God and readily
accepted by good men. is the statement of the
relation between God and man. It is for Him to
direct, and for us to obey : not because of his power,
not alone because He is our Maker, but because He
is right, and the right has the right to rule. Be-
cause his commandments announce the best in
purpose and in conduct, they are to be obeyed.
The only adequate expression of the right is in the
life and the truth of God. When they speak and
we listen, we have entered upon the life which is
honorable for us. and has the exceeding great
reward. It is not doing that which is good because
it is pleasing or profitable or remunerative, but
because it is right : not because it is the command-
ment. but because it is in the nature and spirit of
the Eternal. — it is this which is duty in its highest
form as religion. To hold this as the principle of

THE VIRTUE OF CLEAN HANDS 207

our life gives to us a constant rule, a divine guid-
ance, and an accomplishment which shall bring
honor and content.

In this thought of God at the beginning of our
life, and in the purpose steadily to do those things
which are pleasing in his sight, we have the an-
swer to all our necessary questioning, and are
raised from the uncertainty which adheres to our
own judgment into the certainty which belongs to
the ways of God. One who knows himself, and
feels the sacredness of life, and understands the
world, and looks into the eternities, is well aware
of his need of instruction and control, and turns
gratefully to One who is able by his counsel to
guide him, and afterward to receive him into glory.
If we can imagine a fine ship, well equipped and
with its sails filled with the wind, conscious of what
it needs that it may make its voyage in safety,
employing the tempest and ruling the waves, we
can think of it in all its pride and daring calling
for chart and compass, praying for a sailor-man to
become its master, to trace its course, to lay his
hand of authority upon its helm. A man who
knows how great he is, and desires safety, and as-
pires to success, if he be wise looks beyond him-
self for the law which he is to obey, for the spirit
which he is to embody, and gladly lifts his eyes to
the heavens and prays that God will be the master

208 THE VIRTUE OF CLEAN HANDS

of his liberty, and by his ordinance make freedom
into accomplishment, fulfilling the intent which is
cherished. The right apprehension of law magni-
fies its goodness and its kindness. It is not to be
feared, for it is the Father's will ; it is not to be
slighted, for it is wisdom in words; it is to be
obeyed, for it is the thought of Him in whose
hands our life is and our breath, and whose are all
our ways. Richard Hooker's sentence so many times
repeated we may with advantage recall to our
minds once more : " Law has her seat in the bosom
of God ; her voice is the harmony of the world."
Law comes to us as light, and we walk in the law,
as in the light. We do not make it, we accept it.
We do not add to its authority by agreeing to it.
Men fear to declare the purpose of obedience, lest
it should bind them more firmly than they wish, or
as if there were liberty in disregarding duty. This
is a folly we should not be guilty of. Duty main-
tains its integrity, whether we answer it with our
obedience or not. There are obligations which we
can make or refuse to make, but to obey the com-
mandment of God is not one of these. If we have
contracted a debt, we do not make it more binding
by giving a note. The parent's duty to care for
his children would not be enhanced if he should
give them a writing confessing it. To receive the
teaching of Holy Scripture does not make the

THE VIRTUE OF CLEAN BANDS 209

truth which is in it, or make its requirements more
binding upon us. There have been those who re-
fused to confess Christ before men, as He requires,
lest they should take upon themselves duties they
might become unwilling to perform ; but the duties
are there, whatever they may do, and to have made
the confession is by so much to have lessened the
number of things which they ought to do. Think
for a moment in what confusion we should be left
if this w^ere not true, if one could escape a duty
by declining to acknowledge it, and life were thus
made dependent upon our preference and not
upon the will of God. There is no abatement of
responsibility granted to those who stand aloof
from Christ and the church. What would be
stranger than to put a premium upon the refusal
to do, or to intend to do, the will of God ?

The principle which we are considering becomes
more clear if we see it in our Lord himself, who
renewed for us the commandment of God, while
He gave forgiveness for the past neglect of it, and
imparted strength for the obedience which was
asked. He bade men see in Him the Lord and
the Redeemer, and to follow Him as the sheep fol-
low the shepherd. This was to be through all our
years, and forever. In the constant light and
force which He would give the righteous should
hold on their way, constant in faith and following,

210 THE VIRTUE OF CLEAN HANDS

in the spirit and deed which would be expended in
the coming centuries when He should lead his
flock by the River of Life, and they should go
with Him in the increasing blessedness. We shall
do well if we enlarge our confidence in his leading,
and our belief that we can follow Him ; if we rise
to the obedience of God, sure that it is right and
possible, knowing that the word is with power, and
that divine help comes with the need of help, thus
changing timidity to faith, and lifting our errant
lives into the ways of God. This is right. If at
any point we should fail, it will be honorable in us
that we fail believing in ourselves and in God;
meaning, with an honest purpose to which we will
cleave forever, to fear the Lord and to walk in his
commandments.

Let us return for a moment to the confidence of
the afflicted man of the elder day. It was not
alone that the righteous should hold on his way,
but " he that hath clean hands shall be stronger
and stronger." We readily believe this, if we be-
lieve in his continuance in well-doing ; for every
consideration brings to the words a true confirma-
tion. Upon the man who hath clean hands the
favor of God shall abide. Read the first Psalm.
" Blessed is the man that walketh not in the coun-
sel of the ungodly ; but his delight is in the law of
the Lord. He shall be like a tree planted by the

THE VIRTUE OF CLEAN HANDS 211

rivers of water, and whatsoever he doeth shall
prosper ; " and the fifteenth Psalm : " Lord, who
shall abide in thy tabernacle ? He that walketh
uprightly and worketh righteousness. He that
doeth these things shall never be moved ; " and the
twenty-fourth Psalm : " Who shall ascend into
the hill of the Lord, or who shall stand in his holy
place? He that hath clean hands, and a pure
heart." Here is a verse from the Chronicles :
" The eyes of the Lord run to and fro throughout
the whole earth to show himself strong in the be-
half of them whose heart is perfect toward him."

But the powers of the man himself are in health-
ful exercise. The whole man is working by a rule
which engages all his faculties, and here, as in all
exercise, these should become great by use. His
benevolence should increase by benevolent deeds ;
his truth become clearer and firmer by compliance
with it, and the entire man move upward toward
the measure of the stature of the fullness of Him
who was perfect. With this will stand also the
favor of men. Marking his integrity, they will
employ him, advance him to places of honor, give
to him the opportunity to use himself and by ser-
vice to become robust. The confidence of men is
encouragement for him, and encouragement is en-
largement. He cannot be sure of holding high
office, but he has the dignity of ruling himself, of

'2V2 THE VIBTUE OF CLEAN HANDS

keeping his life in the control of his conscience.
He may not be certain that he shall leave a large
estate in the world which he quits. There are so
many things in the complexity of business life which
work together for the increase of wealth, it is
quite possible that to this man of scrupulous honor
there may not come silver and gold. It is quite
certain that he will have enough, and that the trea-
sure which is of chief account in his own estima-
tion he will carry with him to the land where
henceforth he is to reside. A man's riches should
last a hundred years at least, and bear transporta-
tion from world to world. These riches will be his.
His virtue will tend to plenty, and promote con-
tentment, and bestow a healthful pleasure.

To him there will be given a larger manhood,
and more weight of character ; and character is
strength. There will be the comfort of an approv-
ing conscience ; and in this is strength. His gains
will be worth more because there is no stain upon
them. He can enjoy them without restraint, be-
cause no one has been wronged for his advantage,
or become poor for his enrichment. In his own
heart, in his hands, will be the foundation of hope.
For what ground for hope shall be so sure as this,
that he has done the will of God, and has kept
himself unspotted from the world? He will not
suffer his hope to be lessened, nor believe that dis-

THE VIRTUE OF CLEAN HANDS 213

appointment may await him. It is not pride, it is
intelligence, with gratitude, by which a good man
feels that he has done well, and that for himself,
as oftentimes he has told other men, the end of
righteousness must be blessedness. There can be
little in life which is worth the having unless there
be the consciousness that it has been deserved.
Our great poet did not go far beyond the reality
when he said that he thought a man would rest
more quietly in his grave if he knew that the bare
truth was written on the headstone. To know that
the bare truth is honorable might well deepen the
quietness of the repose. It is the man of clean
hands whom God will employ in His service upon
the earth. He alone takes what God can give,
and what the world most needs. The bread with
which the multitudes were fed came from the boy
into the clean hands of Christ, and by the honest
hands of men who followed Him was given to the
multitudes around them. Recall his own words :
" Every branch in me that beareth not fruit, He
taketh it away: and every branch that beareth
fruit, He cleanseth it, that it may bear more fruit."
And St. Paul's description of the useful man, as a
"vessel unto honor, sanctified and meet for the
Master's use, and prepared unto every good work."
Men whom Christ has called to be his followers
He sends into the world, even as He was sent, to

•214 THE VIRTUE OF CLEAN HANDS

do greater works than his, with clean hands that
grow stronger and stronger.

Thus is the righteous man set in with the great
forces of the Alinio-htv. He is in league with the
right. He lives in the purpose of God. He shares
in the divine triumph ; and knows within himself,
and gives in his witness to the world, the persever-
ance of a saint.

XII

THE MAN AND THE VOTE

Acts xxyi. 10

THE MAN AND THE VOTE

To be allowed to express our opinion in regard
to public affairs is a costly privilege. It may not
have cost us anything, but others have purchased
this freedom for us with a great price. To be free-
born is our inheritance. To have an opinion which
we desire to express is a sign of manhood. For a
vote is the expression of the man's opinion, and of
his desire which he wishes to have accomplished in
the community, and therefore of his character
which stands around his judgment and his wish.
A vote is a thought in action. It needs intelli-
gence and virtue, a wise and upright character.
It needs honesty, and the public spirit which
enables a man to pass beyond his personal inter-
ests and to regard the well-being of the state. It
needs the unselfishness and generosity which in
this form become the nobler excellence which we
call patriotism. This is especially true because
others with their wishes and their interests are
involved with us ; because the country is affected
by our principles ; not alone the Qquxitry of our

-18 THE MAX AND THE VOTE

day, but the country of our fathers which has been
bequeathed to us, and the country which is put in
trust with us for those who are to enter into our
labors. The freeman's act bequeathed by freemen
is a fine bequest to those who in their turn are
entitled to liberty. There is great dignity in the
words of one of our neighbors, many times re-
peated : —

" The freeman casting" with unpurchased hand
The vote that shakes the turrets of the land."

The vote, therefore, is to be esteemed of highest
value, and to be kept sacred in all places.

They are very impressive words which St. Paul
spoke when he was upon his trial before King
Agrippa. He was defending his integrity, and in
doing this he recalled the evil days when he perse-
cuted those with whom afterwards he rejoiced to
be identified, and with whom he was content to
suffer. " I shut up many of the saints in prisons,"
he confessed, " and when they were put to death,
I gave my vote against them." The words as
he spoke them are even more bold and expres-
sive. It was the custom in those times to vote
with pebbles ; in the ancient courts of justice a
white stone was for acquittal and a black stone
for conviction. " When these men and women,
these saints, were before the courts, I threw down
a black stone," he said. Whether he did this as

THE MAN AND THE VOTE 219

a member of the Sanhedrim or of some lesser tri-
bunal, or whether he meant only that he gave his
voice against the imperiled Christians, we do not
know ; but we do know that long afterward he
felt that their suffering and death was in his mea-
sure to be charged upon him. He did not bind
them with chains ; he did not stone them ; but he
threw down the black pebble which was the expres-
sion of his opinion regarding them and their cause,
and the putting forth of his desire concerning their
fate. The man went with the vote. From this
responsibility he was too honorable to withdraw.
He was too honest even to conceal it when no one
accused him.

It cannot be too deeply impressed upon the peo-
ple whose affairs are entirely in their own hands
that to vote is a very solemn act. In our own
country more than anywhere else is this liberty to
have an opinion and to declare it to be cherished
and employed. We are set to the making of a
republic in which every man shall have an equal
right with every other man to life, liberty, and the
pursuit of happiness, and the right to say what
the nation shall be. Such honor rests upon the
citizen of this composite Republic. He should feel
the greatness of his task, and bring to it all the
wisdom he can gain, all the integrity he possesses,
all the generosity he can acquire, that the Republic

220 THE KAN AXD THE VOTE

may have the fall benefit of his enlightened and
untrammeled manhood. The interests committed
to ns are most weighty, for ourselves and for those
who will stand in our places when we have gone,
and for the world, for the great family of men en-
titled to freedom and longing for it. It is the
cause of manhood which is on trial here. Every
man should feel the seriousness of his position and
bring the full force of his character to the advance-
ment of the common good. The nation must have
citizens intelligent and virtuous if men from so
many lands are to dwell in prosperity together.
We cannot feel this too deeply. We have ad-
vanced beyond the period of formation. u E Pluri-
bus Unum '* no longer means " Out of many states
one nation," but " Out of many nations one state.*'
The days that we are passing through are as really
critical as any that have gone. We have made no
serious mistake, taken no backward step. From
the colonies to the Republic and on to the Republic
without slavery, we have steadily and not very
slowly moved. But this has been the work of
good men, and in a large degree it has been ac-
complished, as it must be completed, by the free-
man's vote. The early settlers in Massachusetts
Bay sought to provide good citizenship by provid-
ing good men. Their test of patriotic virtue which
made it a part of religion, which must be firmly

THE MAN AND THE VOTE 221

held and bravely confessed, has been relinquished,
and no one would restore it. A test which re-
quired the citizen to be a member of the church
would be perilous to the state, and more perilous
to the church. But we can at least insist upon it,
and enforce the principle by all the means within
our power, that good men shall carry the Republic
forward to the destiny of greatness and honor of
which we freely boast.

It is very evident that the act of voting is not
performed in a moment. It requires indeed but
an instant to throw a stone into an urn, to cast a
ballot into a box, or even to prepare the ballot that
it may express our will. But the character which
creates the act and controls it has been long in
forming. It is the making, therefore, of the true
principles of citizenship which is to be regarded
even more than the simple act in which the char-
acter declares itself. We should be willing to
meet the whole duty which is involved in express-
ing our desire. There are few duties to which a
man is more firmly held by every consideration of
honor than he is to the duty of voting. If a man is
not willing to vote, whatever the cost may be, his
place is not in a republic. There are countries to
which he is well adapted. In Russia and Turkey
he is not called upon to vote, and the fewer his
opinions the greater the favor with which he is

222 THE MAX AND THE VOTE

regarded. But this is the land of freemen, a
republic where the duty of government and the
honor and opportunity of it are divided among the
citizens in proportion to their ability to receive
them and exercise them. In the same spirit it
should be insisted upon that with all pains men
should acquaint themselves with public affairs,
should know what the country is, what it stands
for, what is its place among the nations, and its
duty to the world. The citizen should be familiar
with our history, which is not too long nor too in-
tricate to be known. He should understand the
principles of free government, the rules of political
life, and all which goes to the making of a man
who at the ballot-box is the peer of every other
man. We may stand apart at every other place
and divide ourselves between the rich and the
poor, the high and the low, the statesman and the
citizen ; but when we stand before the public urn,
and choose and cast the pebble, we are not divided
in duty or in privilege ; we are on one plane, as
the citizens, the makers and preservers of the na-
tion. We felt this when we were called upon,
not many years ago, to defend the union of the
States, and to promote liberty in the land. Men
came from all ranks into the army and the navy,
and their distinctions were lost in the love of coun-
try, and they dared and died in a common honor

THE MAN AND THE VOTE 223

under the one flag, and they have to-day the hom-
age of a grateful nation. Something is wanting in
a man's self-respect and regard for liberty if he does
not hold it as a privilege worth dying for, worth
living for, to be the active citizen of the first true
republic of the world, and to be able, peacefully
and solemnly, to make known his desire and to
have it reckoned in on equal terms with every
other man's desire.

Let us remember that an election among us is
not made in any one day, although for convenience
we name certain hours when the ballots may be
cast. The election itself is predetermined. It is
a result. It is like the verdict upon a cause which
has been for weeks on trial, and for years in mak-
ing. Opinions, and still more character, are of
slow growth. We are to instruct ourselves and
one another in the principles and issues which are
involved ; then it takes but a moment to declare
the results of our thinking. We sometimes call
the weeks which precede an important election
"a campaign of education." The term is well
chosen, but unfortunately the campaign is too
brief. If I may borrow a term from college life,
it is very much like " cramming " for an examina-
tion. One who has neglected his studies may by
this means survive the testing to which he is com-
mitted. The scholar depends upon nothing so

224 THE MAX AXD THE VOTE

hasty and unjust, but upon the persistent work of
the months which were given him for learning.
To be constantly studying the duties of citizen-
ship, and giving through the country the know-
ledge which is necessary to intelligent action, is the
preparation for the voting-day.

" I, Freedom, dwell with Knowledge : I abide
With men whom dust of faction cannot blind
To the slow tracings of the Eternal Mind."

But we are always voting. We are always
declaring our views and expressing our wishes.
It is by means of this, and the sharing and com-
bining of our opinions, that we enlarge our own
wisdom and agree upon a policy which no single
mind would have been likely to discover. It is
simply the old proverb, " In a multitude of coun-
selors there is safety." In the home, in the
church, in the town, we are giving our voice for
that which we approve. Even when we say no-
thing our silence is our ballot. Our presence or
our absence is a vote. Our hand helping, hinder-
ing, doing nothing, is our vote. Parties are by no
means limited to politics. There have been almost
from the beginning two great parties in the world,
God's and the other. There have been two great
causes, the cause of the right and of the wrong ;
and every good man and every good act is a vote
for goodness. Or we may vote upon the other

THE MAN AND THE VOTE 225

side. The question of honor and honesty in busi-
ness, in professional life, in politics, in society, is
always before us, and we vote every day. We
can declare ourselves firmly and thoroughly for
integrity, by being scrupulously upright, doing
our duty, telling the truth, paying our debts, liv-
ing generous lives.

Questions of reform are always before us, and
we cast our vote for purity and safety, for the
welfare of the poor, for the security of the helpless,
for all which makes the common life more true
and clean. Or by doing nothing, unless it be
finding fault, we may vote upon the other side.
The great question of thoughts versus things keeps
itself before us. We may vote by our words, our
spirit, our acts, for the things which are seen and
temporal or for the truths which are eternal,
though they be unseen. We can stand for those
things which bring the kingdom of heaven closer
to the earth, and quicken the spiritual nature, and
make the rule of God prevail in all the affairs of
men. One day in the week is especially voting-
day. It is the day of the Lord, when by his com-
mandment we are permitted to cease from labor, to
hold the hours sacred, to enlarge our divine nature,
to strengthen all our thoughts of God and immor-
tality ; of Christ and his redemption ; of the eter-
nal truth and eternal life which we can receive only

THE MAX AXD THE VOTE

from his hands. The Lord's day means all this,
and we vote every Sunday. It is a beautiful custom
in our navy on this day to raise the flag which
stands for Christ and the Christian life over that
of the ship, the only one which at any time can
float above the flag of the Republic. We can have
this custom, if we choose, upon the shore. Which
way should we vote ? Let us inform ourselves of
the value of the Sabbath to every man's home, its
inestimable worth to the poor man and his dwell-
ing, its worth to the neighborhood and to the coun-
try and to the wide world. Let us think of its
divine sanction and authority. Think what it was
to those whose memory is the most sacred recollec-
tion of our life, and what it will be as a formative
influence in the life which in this day is cruelly
prone to worldliness and the forgetfulness of God.
TTe can preach the holiness of the Sabbath day.
TTe can preserve its holiness in comfort, and rare
enjoyment, and the refreshing of the body and the
soul. The walk to the church is a long vote for the
Fourth Commandment. It is in keeping with our
New England history, with the teaching of prophets
and apostles and of our Lord himself, and with a
rational regard for our own welfare, to stand firmly
on the side of the commandment. Our Lord did
not remove the day when He found it burdened
with superstition, but He set it free and put it in

THE MAN AND THE VOTE 227

order, because He clearly meant that it should
stand to the end as God's day ; and by his own
Resurrection, which changed the hours of the week,
He gave to the first day its lasting honor. It is
certainly very beautiful, and in fine contrast to the
spirit which disowns all that is of special sanctity in
the day, when the household, parents and children,
leaving their own door, walk quietly, reverently,
to the common home, where with their neighbors
they can worship God in prayer and song. The
time has certainly come when all who believe in
remembering the Sabbath day to keep it holy
should openly vote as they believe.

The prolonged vote is the real vote. Once in
four years we vote for a president, but once in
four hours for the country. Once in a year for the
city government ; once in an hour for the city.
Always we are voting on the great issues between
conscience and inclination, between duty and habit,
between ministering to others and being ministered
unto, between the march and the intrenchment.
Upon these questions there is no third party, there
is no silent party. Some one stands near enough
to see our ballot ; or if, perchance, there is no one,
we see it ourselves, and He sees it who sat over
against the treasury in the temple and watched the
voting, and registered one ballot which was cast by
a widow and expressed her life. You recall many

228 THE MAX AXD THE VOTE

instances, and yon pay honor to them, when men
have had a life-long vote which they have left as a
permanent force in the home and in the Republic.
I wish that I knew how to impress this truth. Oh,
men, which side are we on ? AVhat do we stand
for ? Is it for honor, truth, liberality ? Is it for
the Ten Commandments, the Sermon on the Mount,
the Lord's Prayer, the Golden Rule ? Is it for
God?

Men have been voting from the beginning.
Adam and Eve and Cain voted on one side of the
question of righteousness, and Abel upon the other
side. Thus it was with Moses and Pharaoh,
Joshua and Balaam, David and Solomon, Daniel
and Belshazzar. Men have divided all along the
course of life. There are records of special bal-
loting, as when Moses found the people discon-
tented, and disposed to turn away from him. He
took his stand and called upon all who were with
him to bring in their votes. The question was
this, as it was announced : " Who is on the Lord's
side ? Let him come unto me." This division of
the house was in itself more satisfying than the
conduct which followed it. So Joshua^ when he
had led the people to the borders of the land of
promise, called upon them to vote who should bear
rule over them. "Choose you this day whom ye
will serve." They made their choice, which many

THE MAN AND THE VOTE 229

of them soon denied. The Epistle to the Hebrews
has the record of men who on the great questions
of life voted, and so voted that they are held up for
the encouragement of timid souls who would fain
be faithful, to whom is given the triumph of right-
eousness. Among the men of the New Testament
we find the voting. The Sanhedrim is against
Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea. We find
the people voting on the grave question which
Pilate submitted to them, " Whom shall I release
unto you ? " They voted for Barabbas, and gave
Jesus to the Cross.

Yes, it is voting, all the way, and all the time.
In the deep matters of life we are freemen, created
free. The old question comes before every genera-
tion and every man anew, What shall I do with
Jesus ? What think ye of Christ ? Our belief is
our vote. Our confession is our vote for Him.
Our baptism is our vote for Him into whose name,
into whose grace, we are baptized. The questions
of a Christian life are decided every hour. We
can at least make our own ballot right. We may
not prevail upon our neighbor. We may not con-
trol the opinions of others. We may not persuade
them to do what we esteem their duty, but one
thing every man can do, he can do his own duty
and the whole of it. He can do it openly.

XIII

THE SAILOR-MAN

S. Matthew xvii. 27

THE SAILOK-MAN

These are the spring days, when the thoughts
of many are turning toward the sea. Some are
thinking of the winding coast along which they
will run in their palace yachts. Some are prepar-
ing for voyages across the ocean, when in long
days they may breathe in the vigor of the salt
waves and winds, till they are landed among the
mountains and lakes, the cities and cathedrals of
a distant world. Some are turning curiously to-
ward the North Cape and its unbroken day;
others, fewer but bolder, are looking into the
farthest North, if they may find the Pole, in which
all believe but which no man has seen. The
merchant is turning to the sea, that he may bring
home the goods of other climes, upon which he
may pay tribute and make his gain. The govern-
ment is sending its envoys to the governments of
distant nations ; the missionary embarks upon the
deep, that he may fulfill the command which in-
spires him, " Go into all the world, and preach
the gospel to every creature." Thus personal

234 THE SAILOB-MAX

comfort, the ardor for discovery, the necessities
of government, the enterprise of the merchant, the

passion of the missionary, bring them to the sea
on which they will sail away. In all this which is
proposed, there is one man and only one man who
cannot be spared. There is one man whose place
neither the statesman nor the merchant nor the
discoverer can take. For the purposes of civiliza-
tion, for the union of separate nations, for the
evangelizing of the world, we look to one man.
In all this varied work which sends us to the sea,
the indispensable man is the sailor.

Surely it must be impressive to any one to think
how far we are dependent upon the sailor. For the
comforts which are in our homes, for the extend-
ing of our knowledge, for the fulfillment of our
hopes for men and for the kingdom of God in the
world, we turn to this one man. Thus, always, men
have been looking toward the sea. It is not the
prophet only who is found with his eyes ranging
far beyond the line of the coast. The picture
which is given to us of him may stand as the
picture of all men whose vision has been wide
and whose life has been large. It was a time
when, for the iniquity of king and people, there
had come upon Israel that long period of famine
when for three years and six months the heavens
were shut up, and there was no rain, and, there-

THE SAILOR-MAN 235

fore, no bread. Then the prophet challenged the
priests of Baal to the contest with fire, wherein
Jehovah and his prophet triumphed. He was
confident that now there would come deliverance
to the country in that the people turned, with
hasty acclaim, from Baal to Jehovah. The pro-
phet assured the king that rain was soon to
come again. But let us read the story as it was
written : —

" And Elijah said unto Ahab, Get thee up, eat
and drink ; for there is a sound of abundance of
rain. So Ahab went up to eat and to drink.
And Elijah went up to the top of Carmel; and
he cast himself down upon the earth, and put his
face between his knees, and said to his servant,
Go up now, look toward the sea."

There was a long waiting and watching, but at
last the servant returned with the glad message,
" There ariseth a little cloud out of the sea,
like a man's hand." And soon above the sea the
heaven became black with clouds and wind, and
presently " there was a great rain." Thus always
it has been, — men looking toward the sea for
help.

We have another interesting incident, of smaller
proportions than this, when our Lord consented to
pay the tribute which was not due from Him, lest
He should offend those who would know of his

THE SAILOR-MAX

refusal, and gave to his disciples this direction :
•• Go tli »u to the sea. and cast a hook, and take up
the fish that first cometh up ; and when thou hast
opened his mouth, thou shalt find a piece of
money : that take, and give unto them for me and
thee." The result is not told, nor doubted. From
the sea came the tribute-money.

But before our Lord thus called upon the sea to
make this gift to men. He had turned to it that He
mio'ht add to its wealth. He had riven to the sea
the men who should use it. and make it of mani-
fold service to the world. He had come to it
when its waters were troubled and the tempest
swept over it. and with his voice He had given it
quiet. He had filled it with the fish who were to
have their home in it and to be in a large measure
its wealth. From it He had called men to whom
should be given the highest honor ever bestowed
upon men, to be his disciples and apostles.
Surely He might use the sea when He would
move from place to place, or when He would make
requisition for his needs. Let us learn the lesson.
TTe have a right to look to the sea, that it may
give to us. as it does, ungrudgingly ; but we ought
also to look to the sea that we may give to it in
our liberality. It is not the waters themselves
which ask anything at our hands, but the men
who belong to it, who are so completely wedded to

THE SAILOR-MAN 237

it that the sea is a part of their life, so that it
fashions their thought, touches their affections,
governs their purposes, controls their welfare, and
reaches into their destiny.

It is said that there are three millions of men
whose home is upon the sea. Who are they?
They are men like ourselves, with a common
heart, with common sympathies, affections, de-
sires, possibilities — men whose stay upon the earth,
like ours, is brief, and who, like us, are soon to
sail away for another country, leaving the earth
forevermore behind them. This is the great truth
concerning them, which is to be remembered : they
are men. What men want, they want. What men
enjoy, they enjoy. What will help men, will help
them. They are generous men, ready to share
with a shipmate or even with a stranger what they
have gained at a great price. They are men of
simple lives, accustomed to trust, unsuspicious,
easily led, upward or downward, as may chance to
them when they are upon the land. We see them
commonly along our streets at their worst, when
the long-continued pressure is removed and all
authority over them is gone, and the habit of
obedience, which belongs with the rule that of
necessity is absolute, no longer holds them. In
the gladness of a new freedom, it is not strange
that they are brought into lawlessness. It soon

238 THE SAILOR-MAN

passes, and the habit of submission returns upon
them. They are easily led into good ways. They
seem to have a remarkable talent for listening and
for understanding what is said to them, even
though it be in an unfamiliar tongue. I have
seldom found an audience so quick to seize the
thought of a speaker, to discern every turn of
his thought, to answer with a quick response to
his appeal, as one composed of sailors, though of
many nationalities. There is no class of men so
easily persuaded to good resolutions which they
mean to keep and to Christian lives which they do
really live. They become good witnesses for
Christ, not only upon the ship, but upon the
distant shores to which they are carried. They
make our national reputation among many of the
tribes and peoples of the world, and create safety
or peril for those who may follow them. It was
the cruelty of sailors at one of the Melanesian
Islands which led the natives to take revenge
upon the next white men who came to them, and
to send their fatal arrows against the bravest,
truest man they had ever seen; and Coleridge
Patteson, in his efforts to assist them, through the
fault of those who had harmed them lost his life.
But a stranger can go to-day to the New Hebrides
and be in safety among men who a little time ago
were savages, because Paton and his companions

THE SAILOR-MAN 239

have drawn them by bands of love into the lives of
men.

The sailor appeals to us again because of his pri-
vation and his peril. For the most of his time he is
very far from those things which are dearest to us, —
far from his friends, from his home, from all the
associations of his life, far from the church and its
continual ministry, far from all which can restrain
and preserve and elevate the life of a man. His
place is one of continual peril. The life of a sailor,
it is stated, is but twenty-eight years, of which
only eleven can survive the hardships of the sea.
The story of a fishing village is a story of priva-
tion and sorrow. With grave fear the mother and
the wife see the men who are dearest to them sail
away ; they share every day his peril, and dread
the news which any day may bring to them. I do
not know of anything more pathetic than to see
the groups of mothers and sisters standing upon
the pier of a fishing village when the boats are
coming home, fastening their eyes with dreadful
interest upon the distant boat whose flag is at half-
mast, and turning one to another with the inquiry
which no one can answer, " Is it for your man or
mine? " The prophecy of the days of the Persian
war, of the disaster which should come to the hos-
tile fleet, has come true a thousand times, " The
women of Colias shall roast their corn with oars/'

240 THE SAILOR-MAN

It is all very sad, even when we repeat to ourselves
the comfort which Sir Humphrey Gilbert gave to
his friends as his bark entered the darkness of the
night to be seen no more : " We are as near to
heaven by sea as by land."

What can we do for these men who are doing so
much for us, and at such heavy cost? We can
protect them with good laws, we can make sure
that their ships are seaworthy, and that they are
properly loaded. Few lines have been written in
English literature worth more to the world than
Plimsoll's line drawn along the sides of every
English ship, the line of safety for every sailor.
We can make our shore as safe for them as it can
be made. Our system of lighthouses is as credit-
able as anything which we hold toward the coasts
of other lands. But all lands which claim a place
among the nations illumine their shores. I had
occasion not long ago to look over some of the regu-
lations of the lighthouses of England. They were
full of the forethought and carefulness which the
sailors deserve. Men chosen with utmost skill
for the work, controlled by all restraints and regu-
lations, keep the lights. It seems a simple matter
to keep a lamp burning, but only men carefully
chosen could be intrusted with the work. They are
held to fidelity. They are allowed no couch or bed
in the lantern or the watch-room, lest they should

THE SAILOR-MAN 241

fall asleep. No man is allowed to leave his lamp
to his successor till he has carefully prepared it.
The lives of the men are insured by compulsion,
that no anxiety for their families shall hinder
them in their work. The simple direction in which
all is summed up reads almost like a verse from
the New Testament : " You are to light the lamps
every evening at sunsetting, and keep them con-
stantly burning, bright and clear, till sunrising."
This they do in loneliness, often in peril. They
keep the lamps alight. The tribute of our own
poet is not overdrawn : —

" Steadfast, serene, immovable, the same
Year after year, through all the silent night
Burns on forevermore that quenchless flame,
Shines on that inextinguishable light ! "

We have also our life-saving service, with strong
boats and stout-hearted men, watching against the
shipwreck and rescuing men who have no one else
to whom they may turn for succor. Think of two
thousand lives saved in a single year, and a million
and a half dollars' worth of property preserved.
A few years ago I was in the little English village
of Clovelly, Kingsley's Clovelly, and at the foot of
the long street, looking out upon the angry waters,
was the life-saving station. The door was open,
and I went in. No man was in the house. Upon
the wall was a blackboard, giving a list of the

242 THE SAILOR-MAX

vessels to which the boat had gone, and the num-
ber of men whose lives had been saved. It was
an inspiring record. I ventured to take down the
hat of one of those heroes, and to place it upon
my head. I wished that I were worthy to wear it,
or that in my life-saving service I might become
worthy of such equipment.

We build hospitals for these men of the sea.
We provide consuls who shall be the appointed
friends of sailors in strange lands. We have homes
and chapels along our own coast, with men and
women whose whole duty it is to be the friends of
sailors, and well are they doing their work. But
we can do more than this. We are doing more.
We furnish books which they may read in their long
voyages. We give them pictures which they can
pin upon their rude walls, to remind them of their
homes. We give them what are well named " com-
fort bags," with a Testament, and those things
which are of as real value in the small emergen-
cies that come to men far from home. The Testar
ment is a precious gift, but times often come when
a needle and thread meet in a more practical way
the immediate necessity. Thus are we striving
with a zeal which should be greatly increased to
make these men as safe when upon the sea as they
can be made, and to provide for them whatever
will make their stay upon the shore pleasant and

THE SAILOR-MAN 243

secure. We strive to teach them the truths and
duties which belong to the life that now is and to
the life which is before us all, the truths and duties
which are as pressing upon the sea as upon the land.
It is interesting to observe how much of the
imagery of the Bible is drawn from the sea, and is
naturally most appreciated by seamen. " When
thou passest through the waters I will be with
thee," is the Divine promise. For the obedient,
" His peace shall be as a river, and his righteous-
ness like the waves of the sea." The prisoner upon
Patmos, in the midst of the sea, saw the Son of
man in his glory, and the new song of the re-
deemed from the earth was in a voice for which
he could find no better description than that it
was " as the voice of many waters." The familiar
hymn which is so precious to our thoughts seems
almost to have been written by a sailor, and for
sailors : —

i l Jesus, lover of my soul,
Let rue to thy bosom fly,
While the nearer waters roll,
While the tempest still is high :
Hide me, 0 my Saviour, hide
Till the storm of life is past,
Safe into the haven guide,
O, receive my soul at last ! "

In all this, I have been speaking only of the
real sailor, not of the landsman who works upon a

244 THE SAILOR-MAN

ship. The life of the sailor has its peculiar condi-
tions which have their own interest, and must be re-
garded with intelligent discretion. If we turn to the
officers of our ships, men who truly belong to the
sea, we rind men who have a thought and method
quite distinctive, and always full of interest. The
life of the officer of a ship, in our time, is of ne-
cessity a lonely one. He is thrown upon himself,
with a responsibility which others cannot feel. He
stands by himself in the consciousness of a great
trust which makes his life solitary. In this way
he becomes a man self-contained, self-reliant, inde-
pendent. He is his own companion, and comes to
find in solitude a fellowship with himself and with
his work. I call to mind, as I say these things,
one of the bravest sailors who ever commanded a
ship, a true sailor. i; a sailor-man " he liked to call
himself. He had grown up upon the sea, and with
it, and in it. till the sea and the man were partners
in life, I talked with him in the frankness of our
isolation. He told me many things of himself and
of a sailor's life, and I wish I could tell them
here, as sometimes they came to me in the quiet
of his room, or upon the upper bridge at night.
when the ship was far away from us. and the stars
were nearer than the earth. Some of these things I
shall try to give to you. I asked him if it were not
very wearisome, the pacing to and fro upon the

THE SAILOR-MAN 245

bridge, alone, hour after hour. He said, No, there
is always something to be done. The officer in his
lonely walk must look down upon the ship, where
at any moment something may happen that needs
his care. He must keep his eye upon the sea,
where a sudden change may come ; where far away
he may see the light of a burning ship, or the sig-
nal rocket flashing across the sky, or hear the cry of
shipwrecked men from out an unseen boat. There
is always something to think about and watch for,
and this saves his watch from weariness. Then
between us we made this phrase, which he accepted,
and which I have remembered, found to be true,
and many times commended to those who are weary
because of their idleness and narrowness, only these
words : " Care is company."

But your responsibility here must be very great,
constant, burdensome. " Yes," he said, " yet if you
are equal to it, responsibility is pleasant ; but to be
in a place for which you know you are not fitted,
in dread of an emergency which you know you
cannot meet, would be terrible." The time came
not long afterward when he was to know as he
had never known what responsibility means. In
the darkness, after all his care and skill, his ship
suddenly struck the coast of Wales. It was a
fearful moment. Whether she would float or not
he could not tell. Whether the lives intrusted to

246 THE SAILOR-MAN

his keeping would be lost, he could not know.
For what he ought to do, he could rely only upon
his own manhood and seamanship. Not a life was
lost. The broken ship remained afloat, and he
brought her safely into port. One good thing, he
told me, came of that experience. " I found myself.
I never knew before what I should do, what I could
do, in an hour of sudden peril like that. I found
that my mind would be clear, my hand would be
steady, and I could do, under the terrible stress
of the hour, all that it was in me to do. I
found myself." Clearly, though he did not say so,
the discovery of himself, this new acquaintance
with the man he was to live with everywhere,
through all his days, was pleasant to him. He held
in honest honor the man he had discovered. The
tender heart of the sailor went out to the ship which
he had endangered and had rescued, and which had
kept herself afloat, as his thought was, to bring him
and herself into safety ; and when it was suggested
that another ship might be given to him, he
answered out of a sailor heart, " Do you think I
could leave a ship that had stood by me as this one
has ? " His fidelity and heroism were characteristic
of the true sailor. We talked one day of the rule
of the company which forbade that the captain
should take his wife and children with him. " It
is right," he said. " It would be very hard if any-

THE SAILOR-MAN 247

thing should happen to the ship, and we should
have to take to the boats, for me to put my own
children aside, and let them go down with the ship,
while I took the children of these emigrants and
put them into the boat, and gave them a chance for
their life." Yet he would have done this ; any
sailor would have done this.

But there was a fellowship beyond this which I
have named, the fellowship with Nature. All the
air around him, and the wide sea, and the bending
heavens were full of the presence of God. He knew
the presence, he felt it, he was awed before it, his
poetic mind knew its beauty and its strength ; his
simple, reverent heart bowed in adoration, waited
in confidence before the presence of the Almighty,
whose footsteps were indeed upon the sea. More
than other men whom I have been allowed to know
he was the prophet of Nature, and Nature and its
mysteries were revealed to him, and from his life
and in his artless words passed on to those who list-
ened to him. There has seldom been given to me a
more impressive moment than came at night stand-
ing with him upon the bridge, the ship silent below
us, the waste of waters reaching into the dark, the
friendly stars keeping us company. There an
officer looked up into the heavens, and finding the
planet which would listen to him inquired where
our place was upon the deep, and out of the heavens

248 THE SAILOB-MAN

marked our point upon the earth. It seemed Indeed
companionship with the Infinite, the fellowship of
life with light, in the surrounding presence and
care and love of Him who stretches out the heavens
with his fingers, and holds the deep in the hollow
of his hand.

This was one sailor-man of whom I have been
telling, a rare man, even among men of his birth
and calling. But the elements which combined in
his rich life are found in varying proportions in
other sailors, and admiring them in him we learn
to recognize them in others where they are less
conspicuous. Every sailor may well become the
greater in our thoughts for" seeing one to whom
our admiration is our ready tribute.

In the room of the sailor of whom I have been
speaking, fastened to the wall, were the verses of
an English poet, — the prayer of sailors who had
been told that it was said in the New Testament
that in the world toward which all ships are sailing
there shall be no more sea. They were startled,
and felt lost. The sea was their home. They knew
no other. They had no life apart from it, and what
could they do in a world where they were to stay
forever if there was no more sea, and nothing to
which they were accustomed? Then they cried
out in their passion and their longing to the great
God to listen to the prayer of sailor-folk, and give
them back their sea. The prayer was heard.

THE SAILOB-MAN 249

We cannot change the world that is before us, but
we can train the men of the sea for the life of that
country which is their home and ours. We can
bring them into the Fatherhood of God, into the
friendship of Him who often was in the fishers'
boats, who knew the waves and winds and ruled
them, and who chose his closest friends from fisher-
men. We can teach the sailor truth, virtue, piety ;
prepare him to leave the sea and enter upon the
land, prepare him for the place which the Friend
of sailors has prepared for them.

Pardon me if I speak one more personal word.
My father was a sailor. I was a boy when he came
back from a three years' voyage. The ship had
been signaled from far away, and a friendly officer
of the Customs let me go down in his boat, for he
knew who I was. He was a plain man, but to
my memory one of the finest-looking men I have
seen. As we drew near the ship I stood in the
bow, and at length could see my father leaning
over the side of the ship, and watching for the boat
which at last would bring him to his home. When
we came near enough together I waved my cap.
He saw me, and called out to one of the men,
" Throw a rope to my boy." The sailor threw the
rope, and in a few moments the boy was in his
father's arms. It was a simple thing, but many a
time since have I heard that voice, that command

2 50 THE SAILOR-MAN

which has become entreaty ; and it has become the
voice of the Father who is in heaven watching some
child of his who needed to be brought near to Him ;
and I have heard the word and loved it, and tried
to make it God's word to me, and the inspiration
of my life, " Throw a rope to my boy ! "

XIV

MENDING, LAUNCHING, AND FOLLOWING
S. Mark i. 16-20

MENDING, LAUNCHING, AND
FOLLOWING

It was quiet on the Sea of Galilee in the morn-
ing when Jesus walked that way and saw two boats
standing by the lake, and the fishermen washing
and mending their nets. All the night they had
taken nothing, but that day was to make up for
the failure. To this point the story is common-
place, but the end of it is of interest to all the
world. He bade them push out a little from the
shore ; and when He had taught the people from
one of the boats, He directed the fishermen to
launch out into the deep, and to let down their
mended nets. It was against their experience,
but they obeyed because He said it. This is
Christian obedience in a very simple form, — the
doing at Christ's word what otherwise would not
be done. They filled their nets until the strain
was too heavy upon them. After they had come
to the shore, He bade them leave their boats and
follow Him, to be made fishers of men. This
also they did because He said it, and we who hear
of this to-day are of the fish they caught.

254 MENDING, LAUNCHING, AXD FOLLOWIXG

There are three parts in this narrative which
is three times given to us in the Gospels. The
mending was necessary, because, if the nets had
inclosed no fish, they had been torn themselves.

Why not leave them so. a witness to the work of
the ni^ht ? This might be better than mending;

CO o

them. The torn battle-flag is of much greater
worth than if it were mended, for its signs of
brave work upon the field. One thing justified
the mending, that the nets were to be used again ;
that failure had not wrought discouragement. In

o o

deep waters and under a new command, success
might wait upon enterprise. It reads like a para-
ble of life, for we come often to the mending time.
Our body and our nerves need to be replenished
with strength. It is strange that a harp of a
thousand strings should keep in tune so long.
Our plans need mending, and our purposes, and
our desires. Our habits need to be examined
and mended. Our courage and hope and ambi-
tion need to be reenforced. We have to make
over our companionships, and often our friendships
must be restored. Life must be adjusted to new
conditions by mended methods ; hearts that have
grown ** weary with dragging the crosses too heavy
for mortals to bear '? must have rest that they may
recover strength. It was a bright saving of our
great preacher, and one whose truth he felt even

MENDING, LAUNCHING, AND FOLLOWING 255

in his stalwart form, that there comes a time when
a man must " put in for repairs." But this neces-
sity is a sign that we have worked, and our mend-
ing that we are to work again ; else why do we
seek new strength? We are obliged to do this.
The future appeals to us. Ambition urges us on.
Nothing but death can justify despair. The Book
to which we turn for guidance has always a for-
ward look. Duty faces the days to come. Na-
ture, which rests through the winter, thinks upon
the coming spring, not upon the past autumn.
Mending is a prophecy ; mended is a promise.
" The reward of a thing well done is to have
done it," the philosopher says. He is not accu-
rate. The reward of a thing well done is the next
thing which can be done. The branch that bears
fruit pledges itself for more fruit. If in some
season it has been thwarted by cold and storm, it
must recruit its energy, and begin again. The
reward of bearing fruit is the cleansing, that it
may bear more fruit. It is not loss, then, this
wear of life, because it is not the end. Under
ordinary conditions the tearing of the net has the
recompense of fish ; if not this, the fishermen have
gained something in experience and new skill, and
have the next night before them. The nets are
torn, not the man. Or if the body is worn, the
soul is strong. The outward man may perish,

256 MENDING, LAUNCHING, AND FOLLOWING

while the inward man is renewed day by day. If
the reward of living do not find him here, there is
a to-morrow of our life. Some fish are taken from
the sea, and some are found upon the shore, on the
coals which a Divine Hand has kindled.

" I held it truth, with him who sings
To one clear harp in divers tones,
That men may rise on stepping-stones
Of their dead selves to higher things."

Thus in the goodness of God we are encouraged
to go on to new attainments, but we are allowed
times of rest for the recovery of strength, for the
refreshment of our spirit. The legend on the seal
of the Cambridge Hospital is appropriate, " God
mends; man tends." Thus our conscience and
our will are maintained. Our attachments to the
things that are past are not destroyed, but are put
in good order for the work that is before us. The
time is well spent which is given to mending our
strength, provided we are to make use of the
strength in new service. Our Lord himself rested
on the well because He was weary, but He gave to
Samaria and to the world the revelation of God,
who is spirit, and the direction for the worship
which will please Him.

But when our life has thus been mended, it is
not that we may simply repeat the past, but that
we may go on to better things. Launch out into

MENDING, LAUNCHING, AND FOLLOWING 257

the deep, Christ said, and there let down your nets.
The word is timely. We are doing this from the
beginning of our days. From the boat which the
child sets floating on the brook he comes to the
man's boat; from the child's book to the man's
book ; from school to college, then out into the
university of the world, and to the cares and honors
which can there crown his efforts. Life is to be
made deeper, not merely by this natural increase
of its powers and their employment, but by the
doing of deeper things. Deeper thoughts, deeper
intentions, deeper affection and devotion, are to
mark our increasing days. We go on thus to old
age, but old age may well find itself in waters deeper
than it has ever known. Age has its special ad-
vantages for the best work of the man. Age is
kind if its conditions be kindly. From certain
things which have been done, from a stirring life
out of doors, from a busy commitment to the
affairs of the world, we may have to turn away ;
but one whose net has become past mending in
its meshes of thread may yet cast it in the deeper
waters ; not retiring through timidity, indolence,
inertia, through contempt for what has been done,
with a selfish plea that one has done his share for
the world, and in the abating of hope and aspira-
tion ; but in gentle courage, a steady ambition, the
full use of the powers which have grown through

268 MENDING, LAUNCHING, AND FOLLOWING

years of wisdom, keeping his boat still out upon
the sea.

" For age is opportunity no less
Than youth itself, though in another dress,
And as the evening twilight fades away
The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day."

" What makes old age so sad is not that our
joys, but that our hopes cease," Kichter said. We
can keep our hope if we keep our thoughts afloat.
There is more to do, more to enjoy, more to be, so
long as there is deep water for our boats.

To this the world is suited. With all our new
learning, there is yet much to be known of the
heavens and the earth. Knowledge is to be en-
larged almost without limit. If there is no new
truth to come to light, there is so much to be
learned of all truth that it will be ever new.
Higher and wiser service ahvays awaits us.
Grander attainment invites us, and beyond these
years of change stretch the endless days of Para-
dise. Think and read more deeply. Serve with
purpose deeper and truer. There is danger in our
time that we shall keep near the shore, or sail over
the shallow waters where we can see the sand that
is underneath. Life has more liberty and more
enlargement than once, but perhaps the old times
were deeper than these. Whatever may be
thought of the religious system of our ancestors, it

MENDING, LAUNCHING, AND FOLLOWING 259

is certain that they did not trifle with any duty or
shrink from any truth. Puritanism went deep
down into the realities of this world, and of all
the worlds which we anticipate. We must be on
our guard lest with our finer boats, and sails more
delicately woven, and nets fashioned with finer
thread, and more complete charts, and better com-
passes and sextants, we yet skim the surface of
things, and miss the deeps out of which the boats
may be filled. It is not so much the boat and the
net as it is the fisherman upon whom reliance must
be placed. Whatever be the ship, she must sail
on deep waters if she is to bring home a precious
freight. Many things are said in the New Tes-
tament in which this word " deep " is used. The
simple phrase of the woman of Samaria may be
extended far beyond her thought, " The well is
deep." Yes, every well whose waters are pure
and unfailing is deep, and the work of Him who
comes down to our boat is to give us something
that we can draw with, however far below us the
waters wait. The common saying holds a reality,
that " truth lies at the bottom of the well." The
man who is commended because he wisely builded
a house which no wind or rain could remove digged
deep and laid the foundation far below the changes
which might move around his structure. The seed
cast on thin earth brought no fruit to perfection.

260 MENDING, LAUNCHING, AND FOLLOWING

In the deep places of the good ground the wise
sower cast his seed, where no stones could check
its growth, and no sun could scorch it, and no
thorns could choke it, but it would bring forth
fruit a hundredfold, or sixty or thirty, because it
had what is so graphically described as " deepness
of earth."

Again, the things which God hath prepared for
them that love Him are revealed to us by his spirit,
who " searcheth all things, yea, the deep things
of God." Again we find the exultant apostle ex-
claiming, " O the depth of the riches, both of the
wisdom and knowledge of God ! " Again, he
prays that we may be able to comprehend the
depth of the love of Christ, which passeth know-
ledge, while he rejoices that his life is so firmly
established that not depth shall be able to separate
him from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus
our Lord. This is the vision which allures us.
This is the sea which stretches before us. What-
ever we have done, there is the call to larger duty ;
however far we have ventured, the waters still
stretch before us, holding their greater reward.
Let us mend the nets and make them whole, and
then launch out for more than we have ever drawn
into our boats, and when the end comes, let it find
us on the deep waters.

But there is one truth further, without which

MENDING, LAUNCHING, AND FOLLOWING 261

our advance may prove a disappointment. Our
Lord went with his disciples when they launched
out with their mended nets; and when He bade
them come out into greater service, with the high-
est commission ever given to men, He did not send
them, but He called them, and his word was as
rich in the safety it promised as in the accomplish-
ment which it made possible. " Follow me," He
said. In all this there was nothing abrupt. Every-
thing was orderly. Each of his commands was an
advance upon that which had already done its
work. But why should He detain them upon the
sea, when He had this larger ministry in store for
them ? Why not at once, seeing that time in this
world is of so great account, and spiritual things
have an importance which belongs to no others, —
why not bid them drop where they were the nets
that they were mending, and, leaving their boats
uncared for, follow Him out into the world ? It
was not his way. There was no haste in his
methods. Not more orderly is the Nature which
He rules than the methods of grace which He ad-
ministers. They ought to leave their nets in good
order if they were to become apostles. Silver and
gold He had none. It might be requisite that the
money for which they sold the fish should be taken
with them into the world where friends might be
remote. Again, it was of real advantage that

262 MENDING, LAUNCHING, AND FOLLOWIXG

they should know his power if they were to commit
their lives to Him, and leave the only occupation
with which they were familiar to take up a strange
manner of life, to spend their days as no days had
ever been spent before, in a ministry for which
there was slight precedent. Or, again, it is always
well that a great enterprise be taken up in a brave
spirit. He found them at an hour of discourage-
ment. They had spent a whole night and had
taken nothing. They wrere in no mood to venture
into other service, nor was their disheartenment
the true preparation for the wTork which would
require courage and patience, hope and cheerful-
ness, more than any work which had been given to
them or to any men to do. By these simple ways
did He prepare them to hear the new summons
and promptly to obey, and to go out with Him,
they knew not whither, to encounter they knew not
what, to do and to teach what never had been asked
of them before.

This was indeed Christ's way. He sought to
gain the willing heart and mind of men, and then
He would bid them to his service. He would
teach them before He made them teachers, He
would bring them to himself before He set them
to bring other men, He would be their Shepherd
before He asked them to be the shepherds of his
sheep, He wrould fill their nets before He asked

MENDING, LAUNCHING, AND FOLLOWING 263

them to fill his own. Not as He taught it, merely,
but ever since, when it has followed his teaching
and that of his apostles, the whole religious life has
been an orderly process. The blade, the ear, the
full corn in the ear, have been found in this order,
in the lives of men as well as upon the fields which
they planted.

They followed Him, but what made them do
this ? He made them. There was no constraint
but the constraint which no one could perceive.
His presence attracted them, his voice, his words,
the very blessing that He had given to them out
of the lake, after their failure, so that without
compulsion they were compelled to follow Him,
even as He said ; for their hearts answered to his
voice, and their desires, excited by his blessing,
would have carried them with Him, even if He had
not bidden them. How could they fail to follow
Him, after seeing Him, and feeling the attraction
of his spirit ?

Following is very common. It is the first thing
we do, yielding to the parental leading, and after-
ward to our teachers and masters, to those who
are wise enough and good enough to command our
confidence, and out of their lives to help us to
fashion our own. This is necessary, if we are
to make any advance : that men shall push out
beyond the company and, making their separate

I MEXDIXG. LAryCHIXG. AXD FOLLOW::

discoveries, call ns to come quickly to the pi
which they hare reached bj a long and weary road.

I: ~"v c.\r_ :::-:::: :: ::k:~ :k:sr ~k: Lire Lir :o
conduct us beyond ourselves, then we are afr

:kr r;.:-rrs. There is ;::_:::: in :he ::::-;lrz:r
~hi:h riiikes "s : :'.'.:~-:-. I: :r_ ::_: ~-^e Lessens
: :: ir. fiercer. :1 en :e. ';;'.;: :t~:.::.- i: ::;::: :he in;le-
::-::;:::■: :: Tr-hse: nien. -ken tt ::e -billing :h.\.
rkev sh:yk:i :■-; :h v.- ~'zz: rhej L;--T ::vjl:i :o ce
rrne Chris: ::i: _: :hese men ::.s Ht :::nes ::
ns, with a wisdom as perEe :: is his love. He
kn:~ s —he: eh i:: i^: :: kn:~. rk ;en :l: ~ke:
all men need to have done, and can give to our
life :he - : :t>: —"_::'_ Ee :".1t":: his :~ , Fol-
low these men as they go away with Him. They
Lit -5- rhe - _ i ^ _ t :: Li- 500: err. rk :ekks :: rkezi.
:::_'. ~i_r" h-.e: "he: ~_t~ h \e r_e~T: kn:~rn. Er
explains to them the mystery of life. He teaches
than by parable and by miracle, so that day -
day they are learning, and bringing their learning
".ir. a ri lis :u~_ne ; r. . _:: ;-::.:.s ::::t:::, He er\--
r:> :ir2i mere- rkein :keT Lrf-r::. mere :he:: rhej se~ .
He riTeS :: :hem hirrsehi. :::.". si™ It his hrrrenee
• e.sses r :r :herL. :-r:: rheT lee-rr :: ::e rreek :.::.'.

left :ke world : from having all that

He had offered than, bat they had the beginning

MENDING, LAUNCHING, AND FOLLOWING 265

of all truth, and the memory of the life from
which the truth had come to them. The presence
of his spirit which He breathed upon them, and
left remaining in their hearts when He had gone
away, would bring the truth to perfection in them
till they could be indeed his witnesses in a life
which had been learned from Him, with a teach-
ing which repeated his words of promise. They
touched Him and were made whole. It was an in-
struction in living which could be gained nowhere
else in all the world, — not then, not at any time,
in all the ages, — and it came from being with
Him, walking the same road, resting in the same
house, sharing the same experience, resting in the
bosom of his compassion. This it was to follow
Him. This it is to follow Him. They went out
to do more than they had ever dreamed of doing,
and they are the illustrious men of the centuries.
They gave counsel and instruction to the master
mind and heart which more than any other has con-
trolled the thoughts of men whom He has reached.
Their extended knowledge founded schools, sanc-
tified the home, exalted the life, made common
things sacred, enlarged hope and joy and every
spiritual force, and brought down upon the earth,
to touch it here and there, the kingdom of heaven,
the kingdom of God. Not to us, though we become
his followers and theirs, will so great a work be

'266 MENDING, LAUNCHING, AND FOLLOWING

given : but a work like theirs calls us, every one.
We follow Him, and the heart becomes wise, and
the life is a sacrament of usefulness. There is
no way into the truth but by Him who is the
Truth, and from Him come to men the Resurrec-
tion and the Life. The world still needs, almost
as much as it needed it then, to know God and
Him who came from God, and none can give this
to the world save as they learn it from Him, and
only they learn it who steadily and lovingly follow
Him.

Thus the call of Christ is taken out of time.
There is no chronology in Christian service. You
cannot set the boundaries of years around the Ser-
mon on the Mount, or the Lord's Prayer, or those
holy hours before the Cross when Jesus revealed
himself to these fishermen as none had ever seen
Him before, and gave to them the truth which none
have received except as they have taken it from
Him. The call of Christ in its promise and op-
portunity is as new as the light which flowed over
the land this morning, as new and fresh as when
light was first compacted into sun and stars.
Christ moves forward, and the word of life is
" advance." Steadily onward, never pausing, find-
ing always new pleasure, gaining always new
visions, they go on who follow Him, till at last
they come beyond the world, and look upon the

MENDING, LAUNCHING, AND FOLLOWING 267

throne of God and of the Lamb, and, looking,
follow Him forever. All these truths are gathered
up in the teachings of an unnamed writer who
himself had made proof of that which he taught.
" Let us lay aside every weight and the sin which
doth so easily beset us " — this is mending our
nets — " and let us run with patience the race
that is set before us, looking unto Jesus." Can
anything be more delightful than this? Can any-
thing better foster our eager aspiration and reward
our loftiest hopes ? Knowledge, truth, strength,
character, life, eternal life, come to those who fol-
low Him, with glory, honor, immortality. It must
needs be so. To follow Christ is to come where
He is, and He is enthroned in the excellent glory.
We cannot avoid this for ourselves. We must be
wise and true ; we must be strong and helpful ;
we must have the peace of God and the joy of the
Lord, — if we follow Him whithersoever He leads
us, across the earth, beyond the splendid stars.
It is forward, then. Who would repeat yesterday,
or live again the year that is gone, however good
it was in its season ? As God lives, and our souls
live, there is something better than yesterday for
every man, and to this He calls us who has re-
vealed it, and we find it when we follow Him who
has entered into the fullness of the glory of God.
We can change the scenery of life, however plea-

268 MENDING, LAUNCHING, AND FOLLOWING

sant may have been the landscape before which we
have lived, and go on under fairer skies, where
the Tree of Life, with its twelve courses of fruit,
is watered by the River of the Water of Life,
proceeding out of the throne of God and of the
Lamb.

I do not attempt to describe this in detail. I
cannot. No man has ever been able to do it.
One must see it for himself and have it for his
own. But he is far from the thought of the love
of God who is not certain that the more he lives
in this love and has his being in its truth, he shall
advance from grace to grace, from glory to glory.
The religious life is not an outward service, a
philosophy, a system of truth, a religion, even ;
but it is the Christ life, and his light becomes our
own. We follow from the dawning of the day
and along the growing hours into the evening
twilight, down into the darkness of the night, on
into the light of a new day, the day over which
the shadows never fall, the day of the endless life.
Oh, friends, we are by the Sea of Galilee. The
years stretch before us. Let us mend our nets,
then launch out into the deeper places of the
world; and mended, launching, let us follow Him !

XV

THE CHRISTIAN MYSTERIES

S. Matthew xiii. 11

THE CHRISTIAN MYSTERIES

The term " mystery "as it was used by St.
Paul was very likely borrowed from the Grecian
mysteries which had their home at Eleusis. What
these were no one can tell. So very important
were they, and so sacred, that every free-born
Athenian was expected to be initiated into them.
The ceremony was most impressive. At night the
candidates were led through the darkness into the
lighted temple, where they saw and heard what
they could never reveal. One writer has left the
remark, " Those who are initiated entertain sweet
hopes of eternal life." It is said that in times of
peril one man would turn to his neighbor with the
anxious inquiry, " Are you initiated?" With all
this the apostle was doubtless familiar. He used
the term especially to describe the secret purpose
of God regarding the Gentiles. What God would
do for the Jews was plain enough ; what He
would do for others was not so clearly revealed.
But when Christ came, and the gospel was
preached, it was found that the Divine Grace was

272 THE CHRISTIAN MYSTEBIES

for every man in all the world. The mystery,
therefore, as the apostle wrote to the Christians
at Colossae, was this : " Christ in you, the hope of
glory." This was the manifestation of the gracious
intent of God.

But our Lord used the term M mysteries " in a
larger way. and to his disciples He said, " Unto you
it is given to know the mysteries of the kingdom of
heaven/' He would have the word include all
the truth which He taught. His disciples who
listened to him. and received his teaching and
understood it, knew the mysteries which from all
others were concealed. But why were there any
mysteries ? Why were not the secrets of heaven
spread abroad like the stars, that every man might
see them ? It was because men were not able to
see them. As there are books which w7e do not
put into children's hands, as there is art of which
common workmen have little knowledge, as there
are truths in science and philosophy which only
those who are instructed can comprehend, so are
there thoughts and truths in the kingdom of hea-
ven which must be taught and learned. A mystery
is not something obscure, but something which is
covered, and from which the covering can be re-
moved. When we are able to receive it, it ceases
to be a mystery. Thus a sealed letter is a mys-
tery ; but when it is opened, the mystery at once

THE CHRISTIAN MYSTERIES 273

disappears. Perhaps not, for it may be written
in a language which is unknown to us. Then
when one has learned the language he becomes
possessed of the mystery. Perhaps not, for the
letter may contain words whose meaning he does
not know, technical terms which are entirely
strange to him, and not till he has learned the
meaning of these does he gain the mystery that
is concealed. It is very plain that the mysteries
of the kingdom of heaven are truths which can be
learned by common men if they will listen to one
who can teach them. The notion which some
appear to hold that heaven in its truth and purity
and blessedness has nothing which any man cannot
readily understand and enjoy without being taught
is not to be indulged. Heaven is thus lowered to
the capacity of men, and bereaved that all men
may certainly possess it. This is not the method
of the New Testament, which leaves heaven a place
of glory and holiness, and changes men that they
may enjoy it ; raising the common man to the high
heavens, and not bringing heaven down to the
plane of the common thought and desire.

Our Lord Jesus Christ came into the world to
reveal to men the Divine Mysteries, and to bring
them in all the wealth of their meaning within the
comprehension of the wise man and the child.
Mystery is all around us. It is in this world with

274 THE CHRISTIAN MYSTEEIES

its life. It is in the stars in their courses, and the
light which streams down upon the earth. Even
of this we must say with the apostle, " We know
in part." The mystery is in men who live upon
the earth, and in their life, with its meaning and
intent. Wordsworth well calls it, " This unin-
telligible world." We are learning more and
more about it. Students study the mysteries and
explorers venture into them, and in this eager
desire to enlarge our knowledge lies much of the
interest of life. Yet even to-day it is as true as
when the Hebrew poet sang, that all Nature is but
as the garment of God ; that these are but the
outskirts of his ways ; " and how small a whisper
is heard of Him ! "

Christ interprets to us the world and human
life ; but He does more than this, for He reveals
to us God. " No man hath seen God at any time ;
the only begotten Son, which is in the bosom of the
Father, He hath declared Him." Yet even now
our knowledge of God is far from the complete
reality of his infinite being. But eternal life is
here. It is not eternal living and breathing ; it is
not eternal working, even in ways of honesty; it
is not prolonged suffering, which must at last have
its recompense in pleasure. But this is Eternal
Life, Christ said, to know God, and Me. Yet we
are met by the old question which at once excites

THE CHRISTIAN MYSTERIES 275

and baffles our hope : " Canst thou by searching
find out God ? Canst thou find out the Almighty
unto perfection ? " " Thou art a God that hidest
thyself," cried the ancient prophet. He does not
hide himself because He would be unknown, but
from necessity, as the sun hides itself in its own
light, so that if one should insist upon seeing it
he would very likely become unable to see any-
thing. God is so great, so glorious, and infinite
in all his perfections, that no one is able to look
upon Him. Yet we must know God. How strange
it is to hear men talk learnedly about Him, as if
they could contain Him in the compass of their
minds ; or lay down the rules for his governance
and determine his decrees, constructing their own
thought of the Eternal ! It were far more worthy
of us to bow in adoration.

But Christ reveals Him to us. We learn as-
suredly from Him what before we dimly saw or
imagined or hoped, — that God is spirit ; that
God is love, and craves for himself the love of the
hearts that He has made ; that God is our Father,
pitying his children, caring for them, loving them
in a fullness we are not able to comprehend. We
can know God. The words of Him who revealed
to men the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven are
plain and true : " He that hath seen me hath seen
the Father."

276 THE CHRISTIAX MYSTERIES

But herein, again, is a mystery. How can we
see Christ ? Only as He reveals himself to us.
No study which leads us any other way, no thought
which keeps us from listening to Him, can make
known to us who He is. We must let Hiui teach
us, grateful for the largeness of the revelation if
we are not able to receive the infinite truth which
He is. Even his coming into the world is a
mystery. We speak of the Incarnation, but who
shall tell what it is for the Word which was in the
beginning with God, and is God, to become flesh
and dwell among men ? Or what it is for Him
who was in the form of God to take on Him the
form of a servant, and, consenting to the human
life which is really his own, work out the divine
purpose which has brought Him into the world ?
Yet we know that God is manifest in the flesh.
Christ has redeemed the world. But again, what
is Redemption ? His whole life is full of a redeem-
ing power. He gives himself to the Cross, seek-
ing and saving those who are lost. He gives his
body to be broken that men may have the Bread
of Life, and consents that his blood shall be poured
out for the remission of our sins. All this is plain,
for this He plainly taught. They who receive this
gracious teaching know the mystery of Christ ; not
those who only hear of Him, admire Him, and
consent to his precepts as the best rule of life, but

THE CHRISTIAN MYSTERIES 277

those who truly learn of Him, believe his words
because He speaks them, grateful for all they are
able to understand and trustful for the larger
knowledge which other years and other worlds
may bring.

How strange it is, again, to hear men talk of
Him easily and lightly, as if He were one of them-
selves, and define Him and bound Him whom
angels worship, whom we are able to look upon
because He comes veiled, that we may see Him !
Whereas, we should, in thankfulness which cannot
be expressed, listen to Him in silence, receive his
words without question, obey them in unswerving
fidelity, trusting his promises with an assurance
nothing can interrupt.

" Let knowledge grow from more to more,
But more of reverence in us dwell."

With all the greatness of St. Paul's knowledge, he
held it as his master desire to know Christ. I bow
my knees, he said, writing to men who had learned
of him, and who needed more than he could teach
them, — I bow my knees and pray that you may be
strong " to apprehend the breadth and length and
height and depth, and to know the love of Christ
which passeth knowledge." Had men known who
He was, they had not crucified the Lord of glory.
Did we know who He is, He were not kept knock-
ing at the door. We should let our adoration

278 THE CHRISTIAN MYSTERIES

blend with the reverence of the angels. Let us
also fall upon our knees and remaining there give
thanks for the knowledge which has been granted
us, while we pray that we may know Him whose
love for us passes knowledge.

We cannot perfectly know Christ and perfectly
understand his divine far-reaching words ; but to
the humble and attentive heart it is given to know
the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven. Thus
learning of Christ all which we are able to receive,
and allowing this to increase, we learn of God.
But this revelation of God is greater than we can
comprehend. Christ revealed this, that there is
in the Divine Nature an eternal threefoldness in
which we should believe. He said that when a
man became his disciple, and thus the child of God,
the name of God was to be written with water
upon him ; and the name which thus became sacra-
mental, always marking him who bore it as the
friend of the Son of God was this, — The Father,
The Son, and The Holy Ghost. Into this the
disciple was baptized. There men should have
stopped, bringing to this truth other words which
confirmed it, and finding in their own lives some
analogy to the life of the Eternal. It was a place
for silence and worship and waiting ; the worship
in reverence, the waiting for light. Men had been
better off if they had been able to consent to

THE CHRISTIAN MYSTERIES 279

this. They were not able. It was not in their
mind. They took this mysterious revelation and
gave to it a name which has been a misfortune.
They defined it, and with every new sentence les-
sened the clearness of the truth. There was no
language in which the Eternal Nature of God
could be expressed, and the thought became con-
fused when words which were never meant for
such uses were set in this high employ. The words
were convenient. The definitions aided the inter-
change of thought, but they should have been held
as the inadequate expression of an eternal mystery.
But presently men began to contend, to form
separate schools, to set up distinct churches, to
part altar from altar, and temple from temple. It
seems the strangest thing in all the contests of the
world, that grown-up men, believing and calling
themselves Christians, should dispute and separate
and accuse and disown one another, when the whole
contention related to the deepest and highest truth
of the universe, the innermost nature of the Eter-
nal God. There were other methods into which
men were driven by their reluctance to wait upon
a mystery. They resorted to that which has never
been successful in religious thought, and tried by
the rules of the earth to prove and disprove the
thoughts of men. They took slate and pencil to
find out if three things could be one thing. Some

280 THE CHRISTIAN MYSTERIES

said that it could not be, and they held to their
figures. Some said that there was a higher use of
figures than that, a heavenly method ; and giving
up their pencils, they appealed to faith, as if faith
were less accurate than arithmetic. We are grow-
ing wiser, I think, though we are not yet wise
enough for the light which is given to us. In the
presence of the infinite nature of God, it becomes
us to stand, or, better, to kneel and be still. We
have no occasion to be baffled or to be disturbed.
We are not asked to spend the swift years of life
in the attempt to be wise beyond what the Son of
God has spoken. Here are his words, and to those
who listen to Him it is given to understand the
mysteries of the kingdom of heaven.

Our Lord very clearly revealed to us the care of
God over all his creatures, so that the sparrow and
the lily are tenderly regarded ; and He taught that
we are of more value than many sparrows, and that
a greater care will be given to us. To listen to
Him is to believe in the Providence of God which is
always mindful of us ; and in a special Providence
which regards us every one, and which, when the
need comes, passes readily into miracle. Yet we
are not altogether clear concerning the ways of God
with men. The allotments of life are not as certain
as we think they might be. The prosperity of the
wicked and the afflictions which befall the good

THE CHRISTIAN MYSTERIES 281

confuse us. At times there seems to be little
thought of us, and we are driven for an instant to
flee from Providence to what men call Fate, or
Chance, which is a form of Fate. There is a mys-
tery in Providence. There must be, for the ways of
God are after his mind, and not ours. He sees in
a perfect light. He regards us with a more accurate
knowledge ; and his purposes take a broader and
longer range. At last, when we know more of the
mystery of Providence, the things which have con-
fused us here will be regarded with content. Our
Lord's word to one of his disciples may be extended
beyond the meaning of that moment. He would
wash the feet of the man. The man protested that
He should never do it. Then wisely he consented
to that which he did not approve, and Jesus spoke
to him the words which cover many interests that
are greater in our minds : " What I do thou knowest
not now, but thou shalt know hereafter."

It is among the plainest of Christ's teachings that
men shall pray. It is our nature, for the child
untaught asks for the thing he wants, and seeks for
that which he would find. We are readily brought
to ask higher gifts of . one who is able to bestow
them. He gave this as a principle of life, a rule of
discipleship. Nothing is clearer than this. Yet
here again is the mystery. Why should God need
to have us ask Him for what He sees that we require?

282 THE CHRISTIAN MYSTEBIES

Why should his love need the poor quickening of
our desires ? Why is it that so often men who do
not pray are prospered and those whose life is prayer
are afflicted ? Why is the answer so long delayed,
and why does another thing come rather than that
we sought ? There are many suggestions to which
we cannot make a reply which will content those
who do not care to pray. Yet if we listen to our
Lord, who himself had need to pray, who spent
whole nights upon the mountain in prayer, we shall
learn the mystery, and pray and believe and wait,
certain, because He said it, that the things we need
and ask, that we may fulfill our ministry, shall
surely be granted to us.

We look along our years, and see that presently
we shall disappear from the earth, and what will
come to us then ? We shall live then. " Because
I live, ye shall live," He said. This we are sure of.
" I am the Resurrection, I am the Life," He said;
but long afterward the apostle to whom it was
given especially to be the world's teacher in his
name, wrote to those who had believed on Christ,
it is a mystery : " Behold, I show you a mystery.
We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed.
This mortal must put on immortality. Christ is
risen from the dead, and become the first-fruits of
them that slept." He was well aware that he had
not made all things clear to his friends in Corinth,

THE CHRISTIAN MYSTEBIES 283

and he asked their question, that he might reply to
it. " The dead are raised up, you say ; but how are
the dead raised up ? What is the body with which
they come ? " He answered with another mystery :
" The seed falls into the ground, parts with the
form of its life, and reappears as grain. God giveth
it a body as it hath pleased him. So shall it be
with men." We have gone no further than this.
We still read those words as the fullest unveiling
of the things which are awaiting us ; and if we can
receive the teaching in which he believed, for which
he was content to suffer, we hold the mystery in
quietness, waiting for the disclosures which in our
common thought will soon enough be made. But
it is very noticeable that from this inspired record
of the Eesurrection and immortality he passes to the
conclusion which touches our daily life ; from the
mystery of the future to the assurance of the
present : " Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye
stedf ast, immovable, always abounding in the work
of the Lord ; forasmuch as ye know that your labor
is not in vain in the Lord."

This is to be noticed, that whatever of truth may
for the present be hidden from us, we are denied
none of the truth which we need for our daily life,
for the doing of our duty, for the bearing of our
burden, — nothing which is needed for comfort and
strength, for the enriching of the hope which shall

284 THE CHRISTIAN MYSTERIES

send our thoughts into the eternal day. We may
well mark the distinction between mysteries which
it would be of intense interest and mysteries
which it would be of immediate advantage for us to
know: for those we may be kept waiting, but these
are always waiting upon us. The words of the old
preacher are true, perhaps more true than in his
time : " The articles of our faith are those depths
in which the elephant may swim ; and the rules of
our practice those shallows in which the lamb may
wade." Dr. South adds, " As both light and dark-
ness make but one natural day, so both the clearness
of the things to be done, and the obscurity of the
things to be believed, constitute but one entire
religion." We should be very glad that we know.
We should be very glad that we know only in part,
that there remain to us treasures of knowledge yet
to be opened; higher thoughts, better thoughts,
clearer revelations, than those which have already
been granted us. It is this knowledge yet to be
revealed which gives interest to the student of
Nature, and to every one whose eager mind carries
him beyond himself. We are listening to a song
so delightful that we are glad to be assured that the
strains we shall presently hear are better than any
which have reached us. We are happy as we
travel to a fine country where we are to see fairer
fields and nobler mountains ; and sailing in a good

THE CHRISTIAN MYSTERIES 285

ship upon a kindly sea we are reluctant to touch
the coast where the voyage will end. The astrono-
mer continues to search the heavens, adding night
to night, and glass to glass, in the patient belief
that new worlds will break upon his vision, new
light flash from remoter suns. Nature waits
patiently for our search. It was only a few days
ago that a great telescope which had been sent
westward in triumph fell, with the building which
contained it, and it cannot be used till weary
months have raised it to its place. The glass fell,
but not a star trembled ; and through all the re-
building, and the lifting of the great eye of the
world toward the heavens, the stars will wait, keep-
ing the mysteries which they have held for centuries
till men are able to perceive them.

We are living in the light. It was truly the
light of heaven and the light of the world which
came among men when the Son of man appeared.
We have clear visions of God who is our Father,
of his unchanging love, his infinite mercy, his pur-
pose of eternal grace. We know Christ. We
have heard his words. The truth He taught we
repeat to children, and we send it out to gladden
the earth. We know the blessedness of eternal
life, of the walk with God along these common
ways, of the earnest of the everlasting inheritance
of the saints. But we do not know it all. Some

286 THE CHRISTIAN MYSTERIES

mysteries have been revealed, and are ready to be
revealed to any heart which will learn of the Light
and the Truth of the world. But one, that disciple
whom Jesus loved, with great joy wrote the words
whose meaning has lost nothing of its grace : We
are the children of God, but it doth not yet appear,
— I cannot tell you what we shall be. But when
the mystery of Christ is more perfectly revealed,
and we see Him as He is, we shall be like Him.
St. Paul cried, " Oh, the depth of the riches, both
of the wisdom and knowledge of God ! " And
with rejoicing heart he bore witness to " the riches
of the glory of the mystery of God, which is
Christ in you, the hope of glory."

What, then, are we to do ? We are to learn of
Christ, to be his scholars, to be content to begin
with our letters, to advance to the simple truths in
words of two letters, or three. Sometimes men
have risen to higher attainments. Here and there
has been a man who needed words of many sylla-
bles to express the truth which has been given to
him. The chief point is to begin there with Him.
" Unto you," He said, " unto you who hear me,
and believe and obey, it is given to know the mys-
teries of the kingdom of heaven."

It will be worth much to us to be well assured
that our life is bearing us steadily onward into the
light, that in this early morning of our years we

THE CHRISTIAN MYSTERIES 287

have the noon before us. I have been interested
in reading, as you have done, of that which came
to the Arctic explorer who now is receiving so
much praise and congratulation. He is very frank,
as in his artless words he tells us, not alone of
what he did and saw, but of what he felt and
hoped, of his defeats and triumphs, and the experi-
ence of the mind and heart within him. He had
studied it all out beforehand. He expected to find
a shallow polar sea and a current which would
easily move him upon it. He came to the Polar Sea,
and there was no line on board the Fram which
was long enough to sound the icy waters on which
he floated. His theory of the current disappeared.
Thus, thrown out of his expectations, baffled in
his immediate purposes, what should he do ? He
recalled, what I had forgotten, that Columbus dis-
covered America by means of a mistake, and that
a mistake which was made by another, and he
writes : " Heaven only knows where my mistake
will lead us. Only I repeat once more, the Sibe-
rian driftwood on the coast of Greenland cannot
lie, and the way it went, we must go." To this
current he was ready to commit his ship and his
hope. I read it as a parable. In this world we
are often mistaken. The shallow seas of life
which we look for prove deeper than we thought,
and the currents we thought to find are not in

-SS THE CHRISTIAN MYSTERIES

waiting for us. What shall we do, — far at the
north of our days on strange waters ? Trust the
currents that are certain. Our thoughts may be-
tray us, but Nature and grace are honest. If we
are on the course that leads through life to light,
there will be many signs of it. The growing con-
sciousness of a divine spirit, an answered prayer,
a hope fulfilled, a longing satisfied beyond our
thought, many a thing perhaps as trifling on the
sea of life as Siberian driftwood on the coast of
Greenland, will make us certain of our way, sure
that we are on the stream whose deep waters move
constantly onward to that country which is our
own. There will come to us from the further
shore words of cheer, of call, of welcome, and
something of the fragrance of the celestial country,
borne upon the winds, the harbinger of the end-
less delight. All this comes to us when tenderly
and patiently we listen to Him who alone is able
to teach us, and learn and enjoy aforetime the
mysteries of the kingdom of heaven.

There is for all of us a glorious mystery, a rich
and blessed mystery. It is Christ in us, the hope
of glory. Christ in us, the hope of glory, is the
riches of the glory of the mystery of God. There
is little in English poetry which is more delicate
and delightful than the story of the country boy,
living far inland, to whom there came a shell,

THE CHRISTIAN MYSTERIES 289

brought perhaps by some sailor returning from
his voyage. The boy wondered at its convolutions
and at the sound from its smooth lips, when he
held it to his ear, —

" In silence hushed, his very soul
Listened intensely ; and his countenance soon
Brightened with joy ; for from within were heard
Murmurings, whereby the monitor expressed
Mysterious union with its native sea."

The boy heard the carols on the coast, and the
anthem underneath the stars, the song by the
fisher's boat of Galilee, and the organ tones of
the great deep when Euroclydon smote the waves.

So he who lays his ear upon the heart of Christ
listens to sounds from the far away ; mysterious
murmurings out of Eternity, — the voice, the still,
small voice of God !

XVI

THE SONG IN A STRANGE LAND

Psalm cxxxvii. 4

THE SONG IN A STRANGE LAND

" How shall we sing the Lord's song in a strange
land?9' Sing it as you would in any other land.
It is a song not of the land but of the heart. It
is not the mere rejoicing, but the worship of God
for his goodness. Our confidence in Him should
be so well grounded that no change of land can
change our song.

The Psalm of the Captivity is one of the finest,
while one of the saddest, in the Psalter. The peo-
ple had been carried away from their own country;
and as exiles, despoiled and despairing, they went
down by the rivers of Babylon, the Euphrates and
the Tigris, the Chaboras and Ulai, and there,
away from the city, they uttered their lament.
They felt that there was more sympathy in the
river than in the city's streets. There is nothing
in Nature which seems more in sympathy with the
changing experience of men than the ocean, which
is continually changing, sometimes placid and rest-
ful, sometimes full of energy and loud complaint.
They felt the friendliness even of the rivers ; and

•294: THE SOXG IX A 8TBANGE LAXD

in the weeping willows, where they hung the harps
for which they had no use, they found a mind kin-
dred to their own.

It had been very much better if they had
brought their songs into their exile, and had con-
tinued to sing them. It would have promoted
their own courage, lessened the sorrows of their
banishment, quickened their hope, uplifted their
spirit. It would have been much better for their
children also. When the first generation had
passed, and the opportunity to return to their own
country was offered to those who had inherited
their name and nationality, they nearly all pre-
ferred to remain where they were. It is estimated
that not more than one in seven cared to go back
from Babylon to Jerusalem. They were contented
in exile. There they had formed alliances and
made investments, and the habits of a strange land
had become their own. In losing the songs which
had expressed the patriotic longing of their fathers,
the children had lost the love of their own country,
which would have been kept alive if the strong
feeling which belonged to the Jewish heart had
been nurtured by the melodies which expressed in
passionate terms their feeling and their devotion.

It would have been better for the people of
Babylon to have heard the songs of Israel, to know
what Jehovah had done for those who worshiped

THE SONG IN A STRANGE LAND 295

Him, to see a confidence in his favor which could
not be changed or interrupted. To have this ex-
pressed in fine poetry and with vivid imagination,
would have been to them a clear and strong witness
which might have persuaded some of them to put
their trust in the God of Israel. It is to be added
to this that Jerusalem deserved the songs. Her
history, her glory which could not be forgotten,
the faith which she cherished, surely should have
had the response from every heart that loved her,
and the city of the great king should have been
celebrated in the loftiest songs of patriotism and
religion, the patriotism which is religion.

But leaving these special considerations, let us
confess that if we believe in God we should be
able to say this everywhere, to sing it under any
conditions. Our faith is not at all a matter of
geography, to be determined in some degree by
latitude and longitude, or by the conditions in
which we find ourselves. Our confidence in God
should be the act of a free spirit. If God is ever
to be praised, He is always to be praised. The
trust which wTill not survive removal must have
been always a fragile faith. How could it serve
us at any time when we have need of help, or
hold up our heart when the burden is heavy upon
it ? If we are to have a serviceable faith, it must
be one whose force is from above, and not from

296 THE SONG IN A STBANGE LAND

beneath us or about us. It is when the stress is
heaviest that we need the confidence which will
bear us up. Who would sail in a ship which was
seaworthy only in good weather ? The waves and
the billows will sometimes go over us, and we need
underneath us the arms which are everlasting,
from which no force of wind or wave can sweep
us away. Let us remember also, that whatever be
the changes and losses of life, the greater blessings
remain. God does not change, nor separate him-
self from us. There is in his promises no variable-
ness or shadow of turning. The past is ours, with
the treasure which it holds for us, and the future
has more abundant blessings which will not be
removed. The blessings of life which are of the
highest value cannot be taken from us, and our
belief of this should be so well assured that it
cannot be shaken. If the God whom we trust
does not change, the trust itself should remain
firm. Many of the changes of life are of our own
making, and in no wise affect the goodness of God.
Or if they are of his making, his love which has
consented to them remains unaltered, and brings
it to pass that all things shall work together for
the profit of the faithful, persistent heart. If it
was ever true that we are in the care of God and
may look for his favor, it is true even more when
we are afflicted. His permission of the troubles

THE SONG IN A STRANGE LAND 297

which visit us is good testimony to the pleasures
which shall succeed them. It is told of two of the
rabbis that when they looked upon the ruins of
Jerusalem one of them mourned, and the other
rejoiced. " See the desolation of the Holy City,"
one cried ; " what is left to us ? " " See the deso-
lation of the Holy City," the other answered;
" God is left to us. He said that for our sins our
city should be ruined, but He promised his favor
to the penitent and obedient heart. If his word
is sure when it means our loss, it is equally certain
when it means our gain. In the desolation of the
city is the pledge of its restoration. The word of
our God abideth forever."

The truth is, that by the changes of life, if we
consent to them, and wisely use them, our char-
acter is improved, and our song exalted. That
we may sing the Lord's song in the best way we
must sing it with the spirit and understanding,
even as the apostle taught us. That which deepens
our nature and enlarges our thought gives new
beauty and melody to the songs which we sing.
There was a deep meaning in that which was said
to a noted singer by her teacher, when he found
that with all the perfection of her manner, and all
the accuracy of her voice, something was still want-
ing to make the music all which it could be in its
purity and in the delight which it should give.

298 THE SOXG IX A STEAXGE LAND

He said, " If I could make you suffer for two
years, you would be the best contralto in the
world." We express the same idea in simpler
phrase when we commend a singer for the heart
which is in the song, and sometimes we speak of
the tear in the voice. It is deep experience which
makes deep emotion, and the tear of the heart
which gives feeling to the melody. If this be true
when we are singing for the delight of men, it is
even more true when we are singing to God, who,
far beyond all others, can appreciate the true senti-
ment of the true heart. Feeling is best expressed
in music. The captivity which improves the feel-
ing should therefore improve the song, and it were
a pity to hang the harp upon the willows at the
time when we can bring from it its finest melody.

We are very often in a strange land. There let
us sing the song of the Lord which we have learned
at home. In this summer time which is carrying
so many from their accustomed places, up into
the mountains, down by the sea, across the ocean,
where new faces will be around us and other lives
will wait for the touch of our life, let us be true to
God, to ourselves, to that which we have learned
in our work, and have gained by our living, and
with our best skill give our best witness in our
constant faith, and be careful to sing the Lord's
song in a strange land. Experience itself becomes

THE SONG IN A STRANGE LAND 299

a strange land. We are carried into joys that we
have not known. New pleasures surround us and
minister to our delight. Let us sing the gladness
which comes to us, sing the praise of Him who has
made our lines to fall in pleasant places. Or if
the experience be a sad one, and we become lonely
and poor and separate from the world, instead of
dwelling alone with our grief let us give it expres-
sion in a psalm of longing and desire, in a cry to
God for succor, in praise to God for the blessings
which remain, and most of all for himself, who is
a very present help in every time of trouble, and
should be blessed for being present, and for the
grace which is to bring the new day when the
strange night is overpast. We are more likely to
think of God in our sorrow than in our delight.
If all things are according to our mind, we become
self-sufficient, perhaps, proud of our accomplish-
ments, secure in our prosperity ; conscious of a
great work that we have done, and which has been
rewarded. Unless we are careful we may withhold
the praise which we have offered in a humbler
time, and lessen the sense of our dependence in all
things upon the favor of God. You will much
of tener find the heart of a man in prosperity silent,
than the heart of a man in adversity. When God
lays his hand in chastening upon the trustful soul,
for the soul's good, He makes the hand itself a

800 THE SONG IN A STRANGE LAND

comfort, and raises the spirit into his own peace.
We ought, for all reasons, in whatever land we
may have our place, there to think upon the Lord
and to sing his song. It may be a hymn of lofty
praise ; it may be the breathing of a wearied child,
longing for comfort. It is not so much the words
of the song, as the heart which sings it, that God
delights in. The singing preserves the unity of
our life, holds together our dark days and our
bright days, and makes of them one day. It gives
consolation to our faith, and will not let it be
shaken because the ground trembles. It keeps
the remembrance of our mercies, which should
never be forgotten, because they are still our mer-
cies. It quickens our aspiration, and raises the
heart into the glad thought of God. We should
take pains to keep the heart free from its surround-
ings, calm and strong, whether we walk by the
banks of the Jordan, or wait by the banks of the
Tigris. Coleridge said, " It is hard to sing with
the breast against a thorn." It is very true, but
sing, and sing the Lord's song. Is our praise to
be at the mercy of a thorn ? Is our hold upon
thought and feeling so slight as that ? It is fine to
rise above the present experience, whatever it may
be, and rest in God, singing ourselves into adora-
tion, or singing ourselves to sleep.

We need to cultivate the spirit of praise, for

THE SONG IN A STRANGE LAND 301

ourselves and for the promotion of our joy ; for
others, that they may be the sharers of our joy,
and may rejoice themselves ; and for God, who
loves to listen to our songs. The Psalms seem to
have been written for this purpose. They teach
us, but that is not their great mission. Their great
work is to inspire us, to take our thoughts, desires,
sorrows, whatever they may be at any time, and to
give them words better than our own in which we
can praise and worship. There is nothing in the
greatly varied experiences of our life which does
not find words to meet it in the Psalter. The
Psalms will readily "requite serious regard with
opportune delight." It has been very well said by
an English preacher that the Psalter is not a pic-
ture with the light on it, but it is a window with
the light in it. The glories of the window are
permanent. The light enters them, and takes
shape and color for itself, and brings forth the
forms of strength and beauty which are in the
glass. The dimness becomes softened and cheered,
the brightness becomes enriched and glorified.
The window reveals the light. The light reveals
the window. Steady as the goodness of God
should be our thought of Him, and our song
which praises Him. The song will give form to
our thought, and the thought will give life to our
song. It seems to be the case that the Psalms are

S02 THE SOXG IN A STRANGE LAND

loss enjoyed than many other parts of the Holy
Scriptures. It seems to he true that the mind
needs to be pure and generous and spiritual truly
to enjoy the Psalms, as we enjoy the Gospels, with
the life of Christ embodied in them, and bestowing
itself upon us. But when we become more per-
suaded of the grace of God, more impressed with
his constant love, and our feeling is too deep to be
restrained, there are no words of our own in which
it can be uttered; then the words of the old
singers, trained in the school of earnest life and
inspired of God, become precious to us. The use
of the Psalms is more than this, for it enlarges
the feeling, purifies the heart, ennobles the joy,
creates the spirit of praise to which it gives the
song of the Lord. One has to need the Psalms
before he greatly prizes them. When an exceed-
ing gladness comes to the soul, the mind familiar
with the words of the old singers breaks forth into
their glad strains. It is not till we are the sheep
of the Shepherd, and are aware that He is lead-
ing us and making us to rest by the still waters
that we know the twenty-third Psalm. It is not
till we are in the valley of the shadow of death
that we can sing, as it should be sung, " I will fear
no evil, for thou art with me." The Psalms deepen
and exalt life. The deepened and exalted life is
fond of the Psalms. If we carry them with us

THE SONG IN A STRANGE LAND 303

into a strange land, we have the song which is to
be sung, and the air of the strange land will
quicken and sanctify the melody.

This spirit which has been commended is the
spirit of heroism, of bravery, and earnestness.
The young men and young women who in the
summer time are going out from the quiet retreats
of study into the world which needs them and is
waiting for them are prepared, not merely for
pleasant fields and sunny skies, for places of easy
delight and graceful service; they are looking
forward, with a vision they cannot wholly interpret,
to work which is to be done, which they will not
refuse, to perils from which they will not flee, to
hardship from which they will not shrink. The
sword in their hand is polished and the scabbard
has no mark, but they are willing, even desirous,
that the sword should lose its brilliancy, and the
scabbard be so bent with use that the sword cannot
be thrust within it. They believe in the victory
which they are confident they will deserve, and
they propose to be constant in their courage, what-
ever land may give to them the battlefield.

We have all looked with great interest upon the
monument which has been recently erected and
dedicated to the devotion of a young soldier who
has gained the hearts, not alone of those who knew
him, but of all who know manhood and honor it.

304 THE SONG IX A STBANGE LAND

lie gave his life to the country when his life was
before him. He gave himself to the war with all
its perils. He placed himself at the head of men
despised, untried in peace, and unproved in war,
and he led them on to the battles which had more
than their wonted danger, and where, because the
men who followed him were black, defeat was
worse than death. We see him now where he
rides among his men, dark faces behind him and
before him, a dark-faced drummer-boy leading the
way ; but his eye is constant, his heart is steady,
his greatness never fails him, as he moves forward
to the fate to which he has consented, to fall among
the men whom he has led, and who with him were
faithful to the end. He sang the song of his
country, the song of courage, the song of life, not
in the easy days of peace, not in the ordinary
dangers of war. He sang the Lord's song in a
strange land, and the country joins to-day in the
applauding psalm.

We think of the apostle and his companion, who
by reason of their fidelity in a strange land were
thrust into a pagan prison. They were beaten.
They were cast into the inner prison. Their feet
were made fast in the stocks. But at midnight
the prisoners heard them praying to God, which
it was natural that they should do in their extrem-
ity, seeing it was for his cause their captivity had

THE SONG IN A STRANGE LAND 305

come to them ; but the prisoners heard them sing-
ing the praises of God, for they sang the Lord's
song in a strange land, and presently the stones
were shaking in the prison walls.

This Psalm of the Captivity was not David's.
Even if the chronology did not make this plain,
the Psalm is not at all in David's manner. This
is not the way a man sings who has been brought
up as a shepherd, who has guarded his flock, and,
when the lion and the bear came against them, has
caught the wild beasts with his hands, and torn
their jaws asunder ; and who, when the army of
Israel trembled before the Philistine, with a stone
from his shepherd's sling has laid the giant at his
feet. He sang in the wilderness, at the king's
court, among the mountains, and in the dens where
he found refuge, in the palace and on the throne.
They say that he hung his harp in the trees ; not
because he had no use for it, but that he might set
it to diviner strains than it had ever known. He
let the wind play among the strings, and waking
he caught the melody of Nature, and with his own
hands wedded it to immortal verse. He could
sing the Psalms which have become the songs of
the world. " In the valley of the shadow of death,
thy rod, thy staff, they comfort me. Surely good-
ness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my

306 THE SOXG IN A STRANGE LAND

life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord
forever."

We remember reverently that at the last Pass-
over, on the last night before his Crucifixion, our
Lord took the cup which held his life, and gave it
to his disciples with thanksgiving, and that when
the old sacrament had been transfigured into the
new, before they went to the Mount of Olives,
they sang a hymn. This is the true spirit. It is
the Christ spirit. He had been born in a strange
land, and there the angels sang. At the foot of
his own Cross He prayed with his friends and
for them, and as they went out they sang the Lord's
song.

We are moving on to a land that is strange, —
to a land that is not strange, if we are God's chil-
dren, and He who has ascended into heaven is our
friend and Saviour. Let us go on singing our pil-
grim songs between the hills of the world, and upon
their summits. We shall sing in heaven, but the
song of heaven is to be learned here, " Unto him
that loved us." If we are familiar with the words
and with the tune, we shall be able to sing them on
our way ; and at the end, where all things are in
the harmony of the eternal delight, we shall sing
the Lord's song in the country which is our own.

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