Expositions of Holy Scripture
Second Kings Chapters VIII to End and Chronicles, Ezra, and Nehemiah. Esther, Job, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes (2024)

Produced by Tiffany Vergon, David King and the Online

Distributed Proofreading Team.

ALEXANDER MACLAREN, D. D., Litt. D.

EXPOSITIONS OF HOLY SCRIPTURE

ALEXANDER MACLAREN, D. D., Litt. D.

SECOND KINGS FROM CHAP. VIII, AND CHRONICLES, EZRA, AND NEHEMIAH

ESTHER, JOB, PROVERBSAND ECCLESIASTES

CONTENTS

THE SECOND BOOK OF KINGS

THE STORY OF HAZAEL (2 Kings viii. 9-15)

IMPURE ZEAL (2 Kings x. 18-31)

JEHOIADA AND JOASH (2 Kings xi. 1-16)

METHODICAL LIBERALITY (2 Kings xii. 4-15)

THE SPIRIT OF POWER (2 Kings xiii. 16)

A KINGDOM'S EPITAPH (2 Kings xvii. 6-18)

DIVIDED WORSHIP (2 Kings xvii. 33)

HEZEKIAH, A PATTERN OF DEVOUT LIFE (2 Kings xviii. 5, 6)

'HE UTTERED HIS VOICE, THE EARTH MELTED' (2 Kings xix. 20-22; 28-37)

THE REDISCOVERED LAW AND ITS EFFECTS (2 Kings xxii. 8-20)

THE END (2 Kings xxv. 1-12)

THE KING'S POTTERS (1 Chron. iv. 23)

DAVID'S CHORISTERS (1 Chron. vi. 32, R.V. margin)

DRILL AND ENTHUSIASM (1 Chron. xii. 33)

DAVID'S PROHIBITED DESIRE AND PERMITTED SERVICE (1 Chron. xxii. 6-16)

DAVID'S CHARGE TO SOLOMON (1 Chron. xxviii. 1-10)

THE WAVES OF TIME (1 Chron. xxix. 30)

THE SECOND BOOK OF CHRONICLES

THE DUTY OF EVERY DAY (2 Chron. viii. 12-13, R.V.)

CONTRASTED SERVICES (2 Chron. xii. 8)

THE SECRET OF VICTORY (2 Chron. xiii. 18)

ASA'S REFORMATION, AND CONSEQUENT PEACE AND VICTORY (2 Chron. xiv.2-8)

ASA'S PRAYER (2 Chron. xiv. 11)

THE SEARCH THAT ALWAYS FINDS (2 Chron. xv. 15)

JEHOSHAPHAT'S REFORM (2 Chron. xvii. 1-10)

AMASIAH (2 Chron. xvii. 16)

'A MIRROR FOR MAGISTRATES' (2 Chron. xix. 1-11)

A STRANGE BATTLE (2 Chron. xx. 12)

HOLDING FAST AND HELD FAST (2 Chron. xx. 20)

JOASH (2 Chron. xxiv. 2, 17)

GLAD GIVERS AND FAITHFUL WORKERS (2 Chron. xxiv. 4-14)

PRUDENCE AND FAITH (2 Chron. xxv. 9)

JOTHAM (2 Chron. xxvii. 6)

COSTLY AND FATAL HELP (2 Chron. xxviii. 23)

A GODLY REFORMATION (2 Chron. xxix. 1-11)

SACRIFICE RENEWED (2 Chron. xxix. 18-31)

A LOVING CALL TO REUNION (2 Chron. xxx. 1-13)

A STRANGE REWARD FOR FAITHFULNESS (2 Chron. xxxii. 1)

MANASSEH'S SIN AND REPENTANCE (2 Chron. xxxiii. 9-16)

JOSIAH (2 Chron. xxxiv. 1-13)

JOSIAH AND THE NEWLY FOUND LAW (2 Chron. xxxiv. 11-28)

THE FALL OF JUDAH (2 Chron. xxxvi. 11-21)

EZRA

THE EVE OF THE RESTORATION (Ezra i. 1-11)

ALTAR AND TEMPLE (Ezra iii. 1-13)

BUILDING IN TROUBLOUS TIMES (Ezra iv. 1-5)

THE NEW TEMPLE AND ITS WORSHIP (Ezra vi. 14-22)

GOD THE JOY-BRINGER (Ezra vi. 22)

HEROIC FAITH (Ezra viii. 22, 23, 31, 32)

THE CHARGE OF THE PILGRIM PRIESTS (Ezra viii. 29)

THE BOOK OF NEHEMIAH

A REFORMER'S SCHOOLING (Neh. i. 1-11)

THE CHURCH AND SOCIAL EVILS (Neh. i. 4)

'OVER AGAINST HIS HOUSE' (Neh. iii. 28)

DISCOURAGEMENTS AND COURAGE (Neh. iv. 9-21)

AN ANCIENT NONCONFORMIST (Neh. v. 15)

READING THE LAW WITH TEARS AND JOY (Neh. viii. 1-12)

THE JOY OF THE LORD (Neh. viii. 10)

SABBATH OBSERVANCE (Neh. xiii. l5-22)

THE BOOK OF ESTHER

THE NET SPREAD (Esther iii. 1-11)

ESTHER'S VENTURE (Esther iv. 10-17; v. 1-3)

MORDECAI AND ESTHER (Esther iv. 14)

THE NET BROKEN (Esther viii.3-8,15-17)

THE BOOK OF JOB

SORROW THAT WORSHIPS (Job i. 21)

THE PEACEABLE FRUITS OF SORROWS RIGHTLY BORNE
(Job v. 17-27)

TWO KINDS OF HOPE (Job viii. 14; Romans v. 5)

JOB'S QUESTION, JESUS' ANSWER (Job xiv. 14; John xi. 25,26)

KNOWLEDGE AND PEACE (Job xxii. 21)

WHAT LIFE MAY BE MADE (Job xxii. 26-29)

'THE END OF THE LORD' (Job xlii. 1-10)

THE PROVERBS

A YOUNG MAN'S BEST COUNSELLOR (Proverbs i. 1-19)

WISDOM'S CALL (Proverbs i. 20-33)

THE SECRET OF WELL-BEING (Proverbs iii. 1-10)

THE GIFTS OF HEAVENLY WISDOM (Proverbs iii. 11-24)

THE TWO PATHS (Proverbs iv. 10-19)

MONOTONY AND CRISES (Proverbs iv. 12)

FROM DAWN TO NOON (Proverbs iv. 18; Matt. xiii. 43)

KEEPING AND KEPT (Proverbs iv. 23; I Peter i. 5)

THE CORDS OF SIN (Proverbs v. 22)

WISDOM'S GIFT (Proverbs viii. 21)

WISDOM AND CHRIST (Proverbs viii. 30, 31)

THE TWO-FOLD ASPECT OF THE DIVINE WORKING (Proverbsx. 29)

THE MANY-SIDED CONTRAST OF WISDOM AND FOLLY (Proverbsxii. 1-15)

THE POOR RICH AND THE RICH POOR (Proverbs xiii. 7)

THE TILLAGE OF THE POOR (Proverbs xiii. 23)

SIN THE MOCKER (Proverbs xiv. 9)

HOLLOW LAUGHTER, SOLID JOY (Prov. xiv. 13; John xv. 11)

SATISFIED FROM SELF (Proverbs xiv. 14)

WHAT I THINK OF MYSELF AND WHAT GOD THINKS OF
ME (Proverbs xvi. 2)

A BUNDLE OF PROVERBS (Proverbs xvi. 22-33)

TWO FORTRESSES (Proverbs xviii. 10, 11)

A STRING OF PEARLS (Proverbs xx. 1-7)

THE SLUGGARD IN HARVEST (Proverbs xx. 4)

BREAD AND GRAVEL (Proverbs xx. 17)

A CONDENSED GUIDE FOR LIFE (Proverbs xxiii. 15-23)

THE AFTERWARDS AND OUR HOPE (Proverbs xxiii. 17, 18)

THE PORTRAIT OF A DRUNKARD (Proverbs xxiii, 29-35)

THE CRIME OF NEGLIGENCE (Proverbs xxiv. 11, 12)

THE SLUGGARD'S GARDEN (Proverbs xxiv. 30, 31)

AN UNWALLED CITY (Proverbs xxv. 28)

THE WEIGHT OF SAND (Proverbs xxvii. 3)

PORTRAIT OF A MATRON (Proverbs xxxi. 10-31)

ECCLESIASTES; OR, THE PREACHER

WHAT PASSES AND WHAT ABIDES (Eccles. i. 4; I Johnii. 17)

THE PAST AND THE FUTURE (Eccles. i. 9; I Peter iv. 2, 3)

TWO VIEWS OF LIFE (Eccles. i. 13; Hebrews xii. 10)

'A TIME TO PLANT' (Eccles. iii. 2)

ETERNITY IN THE HEART (Eccles. iii. 11)

LESSONS FOR WORSHIP AND FOR WORK (Eccles. v. 1-12)

NAKED OR CLOTHED? (Eccles. v. 15; Rev. xiv. 13)

FINIS CORONAT OPUS (Eccles. vii. 8)

MISUSED RESPITE (Eccles. viii. 11)

FENCES AND SERPENTS (Eccles. x. 8)

THE WAY TO THE CITY (Eccles. x. 15)

A NEW YEAR'S SERMON TO THE YOUNG (Eccles. xi. 9; xii. 1)

THE CONCLUSION OF THE MATTER (Eccles. xii. 1-7, 13-14)

THE SECOND BOOK OF KINGS

THE STORY OF HAZAEL

'So Hazael went to meet him, and took a present with him, even ofevery good thing of Damascus, forty camels' burden, and came and stoodbefore him, and said, Thy son Ben-hadad king of Syria hath sent me tothee, saying, Shall I recover of this disease? 10. And Elisha saidunto him, Go, say unto him, Thou mayest certainly recover: howbeit theLord hath shewed me that he shall surely die. 11. And he settled hiscountenance stedfastly, until he was ashamed: and the man of God wept.12. And Hazael said, Why weepeth my lord? And he answered, Because Iknow the evil that thou wilt do unto the children of Israel: theirstrong holds wilt thou set on fire, and their young men wilt thou slaywith the sword, and wilt dash their children, and rip up their womenwith child. 13. And Hazael said. But what, is thy servant a dog, thathe should do this great thing? And Elisha answered, The Lord hathshewed me that thou shalt be king over Syria. 14. So he departed fromElisha, and came to his master; who said to him, What said Elisha tothee? and he answered, He told me that thou shouldest surely recover.15. And it came to pass on the morrow, that he took a thick cloth, anddipped it in water, and spread it on his face, so that he died: andHazael reigned in his stead.'—2 KINGS viii. 9-15.

This is a strange, wild story. That Damascene monarchy burst intosudden power, warlike and commercial—for the two things went togetherin those days. As is usually the case, Hazael the successful soldierbecomes ambitious. His sword seems to be the real sceptre, and he willhave the dominion. Many years before this Elijah had anointed him tobe king over Syria. That had wrought upon him and stirred ambition inhim. Elijah's other appointments, coeval with his own, had alreadytaken effect, Jehu was king of Israel, Elisha was prophet, and he onlyhad not attained the dignity to which he had been designated.

He comes now with his message from the king of Damascus to Elisha. Nodoubt he had been often contrasting his own vigour with the decrepit,nominal king, and many a time had thought of the anointing, and hadnursed ambitious hopes, which gradually turned to dark resolves.

He hoped, no doubt, that Ben-hadad was mortally sick, and it must havebeen a cruel, crushing disappointment when he heard that there wasnothing deadly in the illness. Another hope was gone from him. Thethrone seemed further off than ever. I suppose that, at that instant,there sprang in his heart the resolve that he would kill Ben-hadad.The recoil of disappointment spurred Hazael to the resolution which hethen and there took. It had been gathering form, no doubt, throughsome years, but now it became definite and settled. While his faceglowed with the new determination, and his lips clenched themselves inthe firmness of his purpose, the even voice of the prophet went on,'howbeit he shall certainly die,' and the eye of the man of Godsearched him till he turned away ashamed because aware that his inmostheart was read.

Then there followed the prophet's weeping, and the solemn announcementof what Hazael would do when he had climbed to the throne. He shrankin real horror from the thought of such enormity of sin. 'Is thyservant a dog that he should do such a thing?' Elisha sternly answers:'The Lord hath shewed me that thou shalt be king over Syria.' Thecertainty is that in his character occasion will develop evil. Thecertainty is that a course begun by such crime will be of a piece, andconsistent with itself.

This conversation with Elisha seems to have accelerated Hazael'spurpose, as if the prediction were to his mind a justification of hismeans of fulfilling it.

How like Macbeth he is!—the successful soldier, stirred bysupernatural monitions of a greatness which he should achieve, and atlast a murderer.

This narrative opens to us some of the solemn, dark places of humanlife, of men's hearts, of God's ways. Let us look at some of thelessons which lie here.

I. Man's responsibility for the sin which God foresees.

It seems as if the prophet's words had much to do in exciting theambitious desires which led to the crime. Hazael's purpose ofexecuting the deed is clearly known to the prophet. His ascending thethrone is part of the divine purpose. He could find excuses for hisguilt, and fling the responsibility for firing his ambition on thedivine messenger. It may be asked—What sort of God is this who workson the mind of a man by exciting promises, and having done so, andhaving it fixed in His purposes that the man is to do the crime, yettreats it when done as guilt?

But now, whatever you may say, or whatever excuses Hazael might havefound for himself, here is just in its most naked form that which istrue about all sin. God foresees it all. God puts men intocirc*mstances where they will fall, God presents to them things whichthey will make temptations. God takes the consequences of theirwrongdoing and works them into His great scheme. That is undeniable onone side, and on the other it is as undeniable that God's foreseeingleaves men free. God's putting men into circ*mstances where they fallis not His tempting them. God's non-prevention of sin is notpermission to sin. God's overruling the consequences of sin is not Hiscondoning of sin as part of the scheme of His providence.

Man is free. Man is responsible. God hates sin. God foresees andpermits sin.

It is all a terrible mystery, but the facts are as undeniable as themystery of their co-existence is inscrutable.

II. The slumbering possibilities of sin.

Hazael indignantly protests against the thought that he should do sucha thing. There is conscience left in him yet. His example suggests howlittle any of us know what it is in us to be or to do. We are all ofus a mystery to ourselves. Slumbering powers lie in us. We are likequiescent volcanoes.

So much in us lies dormant, needing occasion for its development, likeseeds that may sleep for centuries. That is true in regard to both thegood and the bad in us. Life reveals us to ourselves. We learn to knowourselves by our actions, better than by mental self-inspection.

All sin is one in essence, and may pass into diverse forms accordingto circ*mstances. Of course characters differ, but the root of sin isin us all. We are largely good because not tempted, as a house maywell stand firm when there are no floods. By the nature of the case,thorough self-knowledge is impossible.

Sin has the power of blinding us to its presence. It comes in a cloudas the old gods were fabled to do. The lungs get accustomed to avitiated atmosphere, and scarcely are conscious of oppression tillthey cease to play.

All this should teach us—

Lessons of wary walking and humility. We are good because we have notbeen tried.

Lessons of charity and brotherly kindness. Every thief in the hulks,every prostitute on the streets, is our brother and sister, and theyprove their fraternity by their sin. 'Whatever man has done man maydo.' 'Nihil humanum alienum a me puto.' 'Let him that iswithout sin cast the first stone.'

III. The fatal necessity by which sin repeats itself in aggravatedforms.

See how Hazael is drifted into his worst crimes. His first one leadson by fell necessity to others. A man who has done no sin isconceivable, but a man who has done only one is impossible. Did youever see a dam bursting or breaking down? Through a little crack comesone drop: will it stop there—the gap or the trickle? No! The drop haswidened the crack, it has softened the earth around, it has clearedaway some impediments. So another and another follow ever morerapidly, until the water pours out in a flood and the retainingembankment is swept away.

No sin 'is dead, being alone.' The demon brings seven other devilsworse than himself. The reason for that aggravation is plain.

There is, first, habit.

There is, second, growing inclination.

There is, third, weakened restraint.

There is, fourth, a craving for excitement to still conscience.

There is, fifth, the necessity of the man's position.

There is, sixth, the strange love of consistency which tones all lifedown or up to one tint, as near as may be. There comes at lastdespair.

But not merely does every sin tend to repeat itself and to draw othersafter it. It tends to repeat itself in aggravated forms. There isgrowth, the law of increase as well as of perpetuity. The seedproduces 'some sixty and some an hundredfold.'

And so the slaughtered soldiers and desolated homesteads of Israelwere the sequel of the cloth on Ben-hadad's face. The secret of muchenormous crime is the kind of relief from conscience which is found incommitting a yet greater sin. The Furies drive with whips ofscorpions, and the poor wretch goes plunging and kicking deeper anddeeper in the mire, further and farther from the path. So you cannever say: 'I will only do this one wrong thing.'

We see here how powerless against sin are all restraints. The prophecydid not prevent Hazael from his sins. The clear sense that they weresins did not prevent him. The horror-struck shudder of conscience didnot prevent him. It was soon gagged.

Hear, then, the conclusion of the whole matter. Christ reveals us toourselves. Christ breaks the chain of sin, makes a new beginning, cutsoff the entail, reverses the irreversible, erases the indelible,cancels the irrevocable, forgives all the faultful past, and by thepower of His love in the soul, works a mightier miracle than changingthe Ethiopian's skin; teaches them that are accustomed to evil to dowell, and though sins be as scarlet, makes them white as snow. Hegives us a cleansed past and a bright future, and out of all our sinsand wasted years makes pardoned sinners and glorified, perfectedsaints.

IMPURE ZEAL

'And Jehu gathered all the people together, and said unto them, Ahabserved Baal a little; but Jehu shall serve him much. 19. Now thereforecall unto me all the prophets of Baal, all his servants, and all hispriests; let none be wanting: for I have a great sacrifice to do toBaal; whosoever shall be wanting, he shall not live. But Jehu did itin subtilty, to the intent that he might destroy the worshippers ofBaal. 20. And Jehu said, Proclaim a solemn assembly for Baal. And theyproclaimed it. 21. And Jehu sent through all Israel: and all theworshippers of Baal came, so that there was not a man left that camenot. And they came into the house of Baal; and the house of Baal wasfull from one end to another. 22. And he said unto him that was overthe vestry, Bring forth vestments for all the worshippers of Baal. Andhe brought them forth vestments. 23. And Jehu went, and Jehonadab theson of Rechab, into the house of Baal, and said unto the worshippersof Baal, Search, and look that there be here with you none of theservants of the Lord, but the worshippers of Baal only. 24. And whenthey went in to offer sacrifices and burnt offerings, Jehu appointedfourscore men without, and said, If any of the men whom I have broughtinto your hands escape, he that letteth him go, his life shall be forthe life of him. 25. And it came to pass, as soon as he had made anend of offering the burnt offering, that Jehu said to the guard and tothe captains, Go in, and slay them; let none come forth. And theysmote them with the edge of the sword; and the guard and the captainscast them out, and went to the city of the house of Baal. 26. And theybrought forth the images out of the house of Baal, and burned them.27. And they brake down the image of Baal, and brake down the house ofBaal, and made it a draught house unto this day. 28. Thus Jehudestroyed Baal out of Israel. 29. Howbeit from the sins of Jeroboamthe son of Nebat, who made Israel to sin, Jehu departed not from afterthem, to wit, the golden calves that were in Beth-el, and that were inDan. 30. And the Lord said unto Jehu, Because thou hast done well inexecuting that which is right in Mine eyes, and hast done unto thehouse of Ahab according to all that was in Mine heart, thy children ofthe fourth generation shall sit on the throne of Israel. 31. But Jehutook no heed to walk in the law of the Lord God of Israel with all hisheart: for he departed not from the sins of Jeroboam, which madeIsrael to sin.'—2 KINGS x. 18-31.

The details of this story of bloodshed need little elucidation. Jehuhad 'driven furiously' to some purpose. Secrecy and swiftness joinedto unhesitating severity had crushed the dynasty of Ahab, which fellunlamented and unsupported, as if lightning-struck. The noblerelements had gathered to Jehu, as represented by the Rechabite,Jehonadab, evidently a Jehovah worshipper, and closely associated withthe fierce soldier in this chapter. Jehu first secured his position,and then smote the Baal worship as heavily and conclusively as he haddone the royal family. He struck once, and struck no more; for thesingle blow pulverised.

The audacious pretext of an intention to outdo the fallen dynasty inBaal worship must have sounded strange to those who knew how hismassacre of Ahab's house had been represented by him as fulfillingJehovah's purpose, but it was not too gross to be believed. So we canfancy the joyous revival of hope with which from every corner of theland the Baal priests, prophets, and worshippers, recovered from theirfright, came flocking to the great temple in Samaria, till it was likea cup filled with wine from brim to brim. The worship cannot havenumbered many adherents if one temple could hold the bulk of them.Probably it had never been more than a court fashion, and, now thatJezebel was dead, had lost ground. A token of royal favour was givento each of the crowd, in the gift of a vestment from the royalwardrobe. Then Jehu himself, accompanied by the ascetic Jehonadab,entered the court of the temple, a strangely assorted pair, and acouple of very 'distinguished' converts. The Baal priests would thrillwith gratified pride when these two came to worship. The usualprecautions against the intrusion of non-worshippers were taken atJehu's command, but with a sinister meaning, undreamed of by the eagersearchers. That was a sifting for destruction, not for preservation.So they all passed into the inner court to offer sacrifice.

The story gives a double picture in verse 24. Within are the jubilantworshippers; without, the grim company of their executioners, waitingthe signal to draw their swords and burst in on the unarmed mob. Jehucarried his deception so far that he himself offered the burntoffering, with Jehonadab standing by, and then withdrew, followed, nodoubt, by grateful acclamations. A step or two brought him to the'eighty men without.' Two stern words, 'Go, smite them,' are enough.They storm in, and 'the songs of the temple' are turned to 'howlingsin that day.' The defenceless, surprised crowd, huddled together inthe dimly lighted shrine, were massacred to a man. The innermostsanctuary was then wrecked, corpses and statues thrown pell-mell intothe outer courts or beyond the precincts, fires lit to burn theabominations, and busy hands, always more ready for pillage anddestruction than for good work, pulled down the temple, the ruins ofwhich were turned to base uses. The writer, picturing the wild scene,sums up with a touch of exultation: 'Thus Jehu destroyed Baal out ofIsrael'—where note the emphatic prominence of the three names of theking, the god, and the nation. That is the vindication of the terribledeed.

Now the main interest of this passage lies in its disclosure of thestrangely mingled character of Jehu, and in the fact that his bloodyseverity was approved by God, and rewarded by the continuance of hisdynasty for a longer time than any other on the throne of Israel.

Jehu was influenced by 'zeal for the Lord,' however much smoke mingledwith the flame. He acted under the conviction that he was God'sinstrument, and at each new deed of blood asserted his fulfilment ofprophecy. His profession to Jehonadab (ver. 16) was not hypocrisy norostentation. The Rechabite sheikh was evidently a man of mark, andapparently one of the leaders of those who had not 'bowed the knee toBaal'; and Jehu's disclosure of his animating motive was meant tosecure the alliance of that party through one of its chiefs. No doubtmany elements of selfishness and many stains mingled with Jehu's zeal.It was much on the same level as the fanaticism of the immediatesuccessors of Mohammed; but, low as it was, look at its power. Jehuswept like a whirlwind, or like leaping fire among stubble, fromRamoth to Jezreel, from Jezreel to Samaria, and nothing stood beforehis fierce onset. Promptitude, decision, secrecy,—the qualities whichcarry enterprises to success—marked his character; partly, no doubt,from natural temperament, for God chooses right instruments, but fromtemperament heightened and invigorated by the conviction of being theinstrument whom God had chosen. We may learn how even a very imperfectform of this conviction gives irresistible force to a man, annihilatesfear, draws the teeth of danger, and gathers up all one's faculties toa point which can pierce any opposition. We may all recognise that Godhas sent us on His errands; and if we cherish that conviction, weshall put away from us slothfulness and fear, and out of weaknessshall be made strong.

But Jehu sets forth the possible imperfections of 'zeal for the Lord.'We may defer for a moment the consideration of the morality of hisslaughter of the royal house and the Baal worshippers, and point tothe taint of selfishness and to the leaven of deceit in hisenthusiasm. We have not to analyse it. That is God's work. But clearlythe object which he had in view was not merely fulfilment of prophecy,but securing the throne; and there was more passion, as well asselfish policy, in his massacres, than befitted a minister of thedivine justice, who should let no anger disturb the solemnity of histerrible task. Such dangers ever attend the path of the great men whofeel themselves to be sent by God. In our humbler lives they dog oursteps, and religious fervour needs ever to keep careful watch onitself, lest it should degenerate unconsciously into self-will, andshould allow the muddy stream of earth-born passion to darken itscrystal waters.

Many a great name in the annals of the Church has fallen before thattemptation. We all need to remember that 'the wrath of man worketh notthe righteousness of God,' and to take heed lest we should be guidedby our own stormy impatience of contradiction, and by a determinationto have our own way, while we think ourselves the humble instrumentsof a divine purpose. There was a 'Zelotes' in the Apostolate; but thecoarse, sanguinary 'zeal' of his party must have needed much purifyingbefore it learned what manner of spirit the zeal of a true disciplewas of.

Another point of interest is the divine emphatic approval of Jehu'sbloody acts (ver. 30). The massacre of the Baal worshippers is notincluded in the acts which God declares to have been 'according to allthat was in Mine heart,' and it may be argued that it was not part ofJehu's commission. Certainly the accompanying deceit was not 'right inGod's eyes,' but the slaughter in Baal's temple was the natural sequelof the civil revolution, and is most probably included in the deedsapproved.

Perhaps Elisha brought Jehu the message in verse 30. If so, what acontrast between the two instruments of God's purposes! At all events,Jehovah's approval was distinctly given. What then? There need be nohesitation in recognising the progressive character of Scripturemorality, as well as the growth of the revelation of the divinecharacter, of which the morality of each epoch is the reflection. Thefull revelation of the God of love had to be preceded by the clearrevelation of the God of righteousness; and whilst the Old Testamentdoes make known the love of God in many a gracious act and word, itespecially teaches His righteous condemnation of sin, without whichHis love were mere facile indulgence and impunity. The slaughter ofthat wicked house of Ahab and of the Baal priests was the act ofdivine justice, and the question is simply whether that justice wasentitled to slay them. To that question believers in a divineprovidence can give but one answer. The destruction of Baal worshipand the annihilation of its stronghold in Ahab's family weresufficient reasons, as even we can see, for such a deed. To bring inJehu into the problem is unnecessary. He was the sword, but God's wasthe hand that struck. It is not for men to arraign the Lord of lifeand death for His methods and times of sending death to evil-doers.Granted that the 'long-suffering' which is 'not willing that anyshould perish' speaks more powerfully to our hearts than the justicewhich smites with death, the later and more blessed revelation ispossible and precious only on the foundation of the former. Nor will aloose-braced generation like ours, which affects to be horrified atthe thought of the 'wrath of God,' and recoils from the contemplationof His judgments, ever reach the innermost secrets of the tendernessof His love.

From the merely human point of view, we may say that revolutions arenot made with rose-water, and that, at all crises in a nation'shistory, when some ancient evil is to be thrown off, and some powerfulsystem is to be crushed, there will be violence, at which easy-goingpeople, who have never passed through like times, will hold up theirhands in horror and with cheap censure. No doubt we have a higher lawthan Jehu knew, and Christ has put His own gentle commandment of lovein the place of what was 'said to them of old time.' But let us, whilewe obey it for ourselves, and abjure violence and blood, judge the menof old 'according to that which they had, and not according to thatwhich they had not.' Jehu's bloody deeds are not held up foradmiration. His obedience is what is praised and rewarded. Well for usif we obey our better law as faithfully!

The last point in the story is the imperfection of the obedience ofJehu. He contented himself with rooting out Baal, but left the calves.That shows the impurity of his 'zeal,' which flamed only against whatit was for his advantage to destroy, and left the more popular andolder idolatry undisturbed. Obedience has to be 'all in all, or not atall.' We may not 'compound for sins we are inclined to, by' zealagainst those 'we have no mind to.' Our consciences are apt to haveinsensitive spots in them, like witch-marks. We often think it enoughto remove the grosser evils, and leave the less, but white ants willeat up a carcass faster than a lion. Putting away Baal is of littleuse if we keep the calves at Dan and Beth-el. Nothing but walking inthe law of the Lord 'with all the heart' will secure our walkingsafely. 'Unite my heart to fear Thy name' needs to be our dailyprayer. 'One foot on sea and one on shore' is not the attitude inwhich steadfastness or progress is possible.

JEHOIADA AND JOASH

'And when Athaliah the mother of Ahaziah saw that her son was dead,she arose and destroyed all the seed royal. 2. But Jehosheba, thedaughter of king Joram, sister of Ahaziah, took Joash the son ofAhaziah, and stole him from among the king's sons which were slain;and they hid him, even him and his nurse, in the bedchamber fromAthaliah, so that he was not slain. 3. And he was with her hid in thehouse of the Lord six years. And Athaliah did reign over the land. 4.And the seventh year Jehoiada sent and fetched the rulers overhundreds, with the captains and the guard, and brought them to himinto the house of the Lord, and made a covenant with them, and took anoath of them in the house of the Lord, and shewed them the king's son.5. And he commanded them, saying, This is the thing that ye shall do;A third part of you that enter in on the sabbath shall even be keepersof the watch of the king's house; 6. And a third part shall be at thegate of Sur; and a third part at the gate behind the guard: so shallye keep the watch of the house, that it be not broken down. 7. And twoparts of all you that go forth on the sabbath, even they shall keepthe watch of the house of the Lord about the king. 8. And ye shallcompass the king round about, every man with his weapons in his hand:and he that cometh within the ranges, let him be slain: and be ye withthe king as he goeth out and as he cometh in. 9. And the captains overthe hundreds did according to all things that Jehoiada the priestcommanded: and they took every man his men that were to come in on thesabbath, with them that should go out on the sabbath, and came toJehoiada the priest. 10, And to the captains over hundreds did thepriest give king David's spears and shields, that were in the templeof the Lord. 11. And the guard stood, every man with his weapons inhis hand, round about the king, from the right corner of the temple tothe left corner of the temple, along by the altar and the temple. 12.And he brought forth the king's son, and put the crown upon him, andgave him the testimony; and they made him king, and anointed him; andthey clapped their hands, and said, God save the king. 13. And whenAthaliah heard the noise of the guard and of the people, she came tothe people into the temple of the Lord. 14. And when she looked,behold, the king stood by a pillar, as the manner was, and the princesand the trumpeters by the king, and all the people of the landrejoiced, and blew with trumpets: and Athaliah rent her clothes, andcried, Treason, Treason. 15. But Jehoiada the priest commanded thecaptains of the hundreds, the officers of the host, and said untothem, Have her forth without the ranges: and him that followeth herkill with the sword. For the priest had said, Let her not be slain inthe house of the Lord. 16. And they laid hands on her; and she went bythe way by the which the horses came into the king's house: and therewas she slain.'—2 KINGS xi. 1-16.

The king of Judah has been killed, his alliance with the king ofIsrael having involved him in the latter's fate. Jehu had alsomurdered 'the brethren of Ahaziah,' forty-two in number. Next,Athaliah, the mother of Ahaziah and a daughter of Ahab, killed all themales of the royal family, and planted herself on the throne. She hadJezebel's force of character, unscrupulousness and disregard of humanlife. She was a tigress of a woman, and, no doubt, her six years'usurpation was stained with blood and with the nameless abominationsof Baal worship. Never had the kingdom of Judah been at a lower ebb.One infant was all that was left of David's descendants. The wholepromises of God seemed to depend for fulfilment on one little, feeblelife. The tree had been cut down, and there was but this one suckerpushing forth a tiny shoot from 'the root of Jesse.'

We have in the passage, first, the six years of hiding in the temple.It is a pathetic picture, that of the infant rescued by his brave auntfrom the blood-bath, and stowed away in the storeroom where the matsand cushions which served for beds were kept when not in use, watchedover by two loving and courageous women, and taught infantile lessonsby the husband of his aunt, Jehoiada the high priest. Many must havebeen aware of his existence, and there must have been loyal guardingof the secret, or Athaliah's sword would have been reddened with thebaby's blood. Like the child Samuel, he had the Temple for his home,and his first impressions would be of daily sacrifices and white-robedpriests. It was a better school for him than if he had been in thepalace close by. The opening flower would have been soon besmirchedthere, but in the holy calm of the Temple courts it unfoldedunstained. A Christian home should breathe the same atmosphere assurrounded Joash, and it, too, should be a temple, where holy peacerules, and where the first impressions printed on plastic little mindsare of God and His service.

We have next the disclosure and coronation of the boy king. Thenarrative here has to be supplemented from that in 2 Chron. xxiii.,which does not contradict that in this passage, as is often said, butcompletes it. It informs us that before the final scene in the Temple,Jehoiada had in Jerusalem assembled a large force of Levites and ofthe 'heads of the fathers' houses' from all the kingdom. Thatstatement implies that the revolution was mainly religious in itsmotive, and was national in its extent. Obviously Jehoiada would havebeen courting destruction for Joash and himself unless he had madesure of a strong backing before he hoisted the standard of the houseof David. There must, therefore, have been long preparation and muchstir; and all the while the foreign woman was sitting in the palace,close by the Temple, and not a whisper reached her. Evidently she hadno party in Judah, and held her own only by her indomitable will andby the help of foreign troops. Anybody who remembers how the Austriansin Italy were shunned, will understand how Athaliah heard nothing ofthe plot that was rapidly developing a stone's throw from her isolatedthrone. Strange delusion, to covet such a seat, yet no stranger thanmany another mistaking of serpents for fish, into which we fall!

Jehoiada's caution was as great as his daring. He does not appear tohave given the Levites and elders any inkling of his purpose till hehad them safe in the Temple, and then he opened his mind, swore themto stand by him, and 'showed them the king's son.' What a scene thatwould be—the seven-year-old child there among all these strange men,the joyful surprise flashing in their eyes, the exultation of thefaithful women that had watched him so lovingly, the stern facing ofthe dangers ahead. Most of the assembly must have thought that none ofDavid's house remained, and that thought would have had much to dowith their submitting to Athaliah's usurpation. Now that they saw thetrue heir, they could not hesitate to risk their lives to set him onhis throne. Show a man his true king, and many a tyranny submitted tobefore becomes at once intolerable. The boy Joash makes Athaliah lookvery ugly.

Jehoiada's plans are somewhat difficult to understand, owing to ourignorance of the details as to the usual arrangements of the guards ofthe palace, but the general drift of them is plain enough. The mainthing was to secure the person of the king, and, for that purpose, thetwo companies of priests who were relieved on the Sabbath were foronce kept on duty, and their numbers augmented by the company thatwould, in the ordinary course, have relieved them. This augmentedforce was so disposed as, first, to secure the Temple from attack;and, second, to 'compass the king'—in his chamber, that is. We learnfrom 2 Chronicles that it consisted of priests and Levites, and somewould see in that statement a tampering with the account in thispassage, in the interests of a later conception of the sanctity of theTemple and of the priestly order. Our narrative is said to make theforeign mercenaries of the palace guard the persons referred to; butsurely that cannot be maintained in the face of the plain statement ofverse 7, that they kept the watch of the Temple, for that was theoffice of the priests. Besides, how should foreign soldiers haveneeded to be armed from the Temple armoury? And is it probable on theface of it that the palace guard, who were Athaliah's men, andtherefore antagonistic to Joash, and Baal worshippers, should havebeen gained over to his side, or should have been the guards of thehouse of Jehovah? If, however, we understand that these guards wereLevites, all is plain, and the arming of them with 'the spears andshields that had been king David's' becomes intelligible, and wouldrouse them to enthusiasm and daring.

Not till all these dispositions for the boy king's safety, and forpreventing an assault on the Temple, had been carried out, did theprudent Jehoiada venture to bring Joash out from his place ofconcealment. Note that in verse 12 he is not called 'the king,' as inthe previous verses, but, as in verse 4, 'the king's son.' He was kingby right, but not technically, till he had been presented to, andaccepted by, the representatives of the people, had had 'thetestimony' placed in his hands, and been anointed by the high-priest.So 'they made him king.' The three parts of the ceremony wereall significant. The delivering of 'the testimony' (the Book of theLaw—Deut. xvii 18, 19) taught him that he was no despot to rule byhis own pleasure and for his own glory, but the viceroy of the trueKing of Judah, and himself subject to law. The people's making himking taught him and them that a true royalty rules over willingsubjects, and both guarded the rights of the nation and set limits tothe power of the ruler. The priest's anointing witnessed to the divineappointment of the monarch and the divine endowment with fitness forhis office. Would that these truths were more recognised and felt byall rulers! What a different thing the page of history would be!

The vigilance of the tigress had been eluded, and Athaliah had a rudeawakening. But she had her mother's courage, and as soon as she heardin the palace the shouts, she dashed to the Temple, alone as she was,and fronted the crowd. The sight might have made the boldest quail.Who was that child standing in the royal place? Where had he comefrom? How had he been hidden all these years? What was all this frenzyof rejoicing, this blare of trumpets, these ranks of grim men withweapons in their hands? The stunning truth fell on her; but, thoughshe felt that all was lost, not a whit did she blench, but frontedthem all as proudly as ever. One cannot but admire the dauntlesswoman, 'magnificent in sin.' But her cry of 'Treason! treason!'brought none to her side. As she stood solitary there, she must havefelt that her day was over, and that nothing remained but to die likea queen. Proudly as ever, she passed down the ranks and not a facelooked pity on her, nor a voice blessed her. She was reaping what shehad sown, and she who had killed without compunction the innocents whostood between her and her ambitions, was pitilessly slain, and all theland rejoiced at her death.

So ended the all but bloodless revolution which crushed Baal worshipin Judah. It had been begun by Elijah and Elisha, but it was completedby a high priest. It was religious even more than political. It was anational movement, though Jehoiada's courage and wisdom engineered itto its triumph. It teaches us how God watches over His purposes andtheir instruments when they seem nearest to failure, for one poorinfant was all that was left of the seed of David; and how, therefore,we are never to despair, even in the darkest hour, of the fulfilmentof His promises. It teaches us how much one brave, good man and womancan do to change the whole face of things, and how often there needsbut one man to direct and voice the thoughts and acts of the silentmultitude, and to light a fire that consumes evil.

METHODICAL LIBERALITY

'4. And Jehoash said to the priests, All the money of the dedicatedthings that is brought into the house of the Lord, even the money ofevery one that passeth the account, the money that every man is setat, and all the money that cometh into any man's heart to bring intothe house of the Lord, 5. Let the priests take it to them, every manof his acquaintance; and let them repair the breaches of the house,wheresoever any breach shall be found. 6. But it was so, that in thethree and twentieth year of king Jehoash the priests had not repairedthe breaches of the house. 7. Then king Jehoash called for Jehoiadathe priest, and the other priests, and said unto them, Why repair yenot the breaches of the house? Now therefore receive no more money ofyour acquaintance, but deliver it for the breaches of the house. 8.And the priests consented to receive no more money of the people,neither to repair the breaches of the house. 9. But Jehoiada thepriest took a chest, and bored a hole in the lid of it, and set itbeside the altar, on the right side as one cometh into the house ofthe Lord: and the priests that kept the door put therein all the moneythat was brought into the house of the Lord. 10. And it was so, whenthey saw that there was much money in the chest, that the king'sscribe and the high priest came up, and they put up in bags, and toldthe money that was found in the house of the Lord. 11. And they gavethe money, being told, into the hands of them that did the work, thathad the oversight of the house of the Lord: and they laid it out tothe carpenters and builders that wrought upon the house of the Lord,12. And to masons, and hewers of stone, and to buy timber and hewedstone to repair the breaches of the house of the Lord, and for allthat wast laid out for the house to repair it. 13. Howbeit there werenot made for the house of the Lord bowls of silver, snuffers, basons,trumpets, any vessels of gold, or vessels of silver, of the money thatwas brought into the house of the Lord: 14. But they gave that to theworkmen, and repaired therewith the house of the Lord. 15. Moreoverthey reckoned not with the men, into whose hand they delivered themoney to be bestowed on workmen: for they dealt faithfully.'—2 KINGSxii. 4-15.

'The sons of Athaliah, that wicked woman, had broken up the house ofGod,' says Chronicles. The dilapidation had not been complete, but hadbeen extensive, as may be gathered from the large expenditure recordedin this passage for repairs, and the enumeration of the artisansemployed. No doubt Joash was guided by Jehoiada in setting about therestoration, but the fact that he gives the orders, while the highpriest is not mentioned, throws light on the relative position of thetwo authorities, and on the king's office as guardian of the Templeand official 'head of the church.' The story comes in refreshingly andstrangely among the bloody pages in which it is embedded, and itsuggests some lessons as to the virtue of plain common sense andbusiness principles applied to religious affairs. If 'the outwardbusiness of the house of God' were always guided with as muchpractical reasonableness as Joash brought to bear on it, there wouldbe fewer failures or sarcastic critics.

We note, first, the true source of money for religious purposes. Therewas a fixed amount for which 'each man is rated,' and that made theminimum, but there was also that which 'cometh into any man's heart tobring,' and that was infinitely more precious than the exacted tax.The former was appropriate to the Old Testament, of which theanimating principle was law and the voice: 'Thou shalt' or 'Thou shaltnot.' The latter alone fits the New Testament, of which the animatingprinciple is love and the voice: 'Though I have all boldness in Christto enjoin thee … yet for love's sake I rather beseech.' Whatdisasters and what stifling of the spirit of Christian liberality havemarred the Church for many centuries, and in many lands, because thegreat anachronism has prevailed of binding its growing limbs in Jewishswaddling bands, and degrading Christian giving into an assessment!And how shrunken the stream that is squeezed out by such a process,compared with the abundant gush of the fountain of love opened in agrateful, trusting heart!

Next, we have the negligent, if not dishonest, officials. We do notknow how long Joash tried the experiment of letting the priestsreceive the money and superintend the repairs; but probably therestoration project was begun early in his reign, and if so, he gavethe experiment of trusting all to the officials, a fair, patienttrial, till the twenty-third year of his reign. Years gone and nothingdone, or at least nothing completed! We do not need to accuse them ofintentional embezzlement, but certainly they were guilty of carelesslyletting the money slip through their fingers, and a good deal of itstick to their hands. It is always the temptation of the clergy tothink of their own support as a first charge on the church, nor is itquite unheard of that the ministry should be less enthusiastic inreligious objects than the 'laity,' and should work the enthusiasm ofthe latter for their own advantage. Human nature is the same inJerusalem in Joash's time, and to-day in Manchester, or New York, orPhiladelphia, and all men who live by the gifts of Christian peoplehave need to watch themselves, lest they, like Ezekiel's falseshepherds, feed themselves and not the flock, and seek the wool andthe fat and not the good of the sheep.

Next we have the application of businesslike methods to religiouswork. It was clearly time to take the whole matter out of the priests'hands, and Joash is not afraid to assume a high tone with theculprits, and even with Jehoiada as their official head. He was insome sense responsible for his subordinates, and probably, though hisown hands were clean, he may have been too lax in looking after thedisposal of the funds. Note that while Joash rebuked the priests, anddetermined the new arrangements, it was Jehoiada who carried them outand provided the chest for receiving the contributions. The kingwills, the high priest executes, the rank and file of the priests,however against the grain, consent. The arrangement for collecting thecontributions 'saved the faces' of the priests to some extent, for thegifts were handed to them, and by them put into the chest. But, ofcourse, that was done at once, in the donor's presence. If changesinvolving loss of position are to work smoothly, it is wise to let thedeposed officials down as easily as may be.

Similar common sense is shown in the second step, the arrangement forascertaining the amounts given. The king's secretary and thehigh-priest (or a representative) jointly opened the chest, countedand bagged up the money. They checked each other, and preventedsuspicion on either side. No man who regards his own reputation willconsent to handle public money without some one to stand over him andsee what he does with it. One would be wise always to suspect peoplewho appeal for help 'for the Lord's work' and are too 'spiritual' tohave such worldly things as committees or auditors of their books.Accurate accounts are as essential to Christian work as spiritualityor enthusiasm. The next stage was to hand over the money to the'contractors,' as we should call them; and there similar precautionswere taken against possible peculation on the part of the twoofficials who had received the money, for it was apparently 'weighedout into the hands' of the overseers, who would thus be able to checkwhat they received by what the secretary and the high-priest had takenfrom the chest, and would be responsible for the expenditure of theamount which the two officials knew that they had received.

But all this system of checks seems to break down at the very pointwhere it should have worked most searchingly, for 'they reckoned notwith the men, into whose hand they delivered the money' to pay theworkmen, 'for they dealt faithfully.' That last clause looks like ahit at the priests who had not dealt so, and contrasts the methods ofplain business men of no pretensions, with those of men whose verycalling should have guaranteed their trustworthiness. The contrast hasbeen repeated in times and places nearer home. But another suggestionmay also be made about this singular lapse into what looks like unwiseconfidence. These overseers had proved their faithfulness and earnedthe right to be trusted entirely, and the way to get the best out of aman, if he has any reliableness in him, is to trust him utterly, andto show him that you do. 'It is a shame to tell Arnold a lie; healways believes us,' said the Rugby boys about their greathead-master. There is a time for using all precautions, and a time forusing none. Businesslike methods do not consist in spying at the heelsof one's agents, but in picking the right men, and, having provedthem, giving them a free hand. And is not that what the great Lord andEmployer does with His servants, and is it not part of the reason whyJesus gets more out of us than any one else can do, that He trusts usmore?

One more point may be noticed; namely, the order of precedence inwhich the necessary works were done. Not a coin went to provide theutensils for sacrifice till the Temple was completely repaired. Afterthey had 'set up the house of God in its state,' as Chronicles tellsus, they took the balance of the funds to the king and Jehoiada, andspent that on 'vessels for the house.' A clear insight to discern whatmost needs to be done, and a firm resolve to 'do the duty that liesnearest thee,' and to let everything else, however necessary, waittill it is done, is a great part of Christian prudence, and goes farto make works or lives truly prosperous. 'First things first'!—it isa maxim that carries us far and as right as far.

THE SPIRIT OF POWER

'And Elisha said to the king of Israel, Put thine hand upon the bow.And he put his hand upon it: and Elisha put his hands upon the king'shands.'—2 KINGS xiii. 16.

This is part of one of the strangest narratives in the Old Testament.Elisha is on his deathbed, 'sick of the sickness' wherewith he 'shoulddie.' A very different scene, that close sick-chamber, from the openplain beyond Jordan from which Elijah had gone up; a very differentway of passing from life by wasting sickness than by fiery chariot!But God is as near His servant in the one place as in the other, andthe slow wasting away is as much His messenger as the suddenapocalypse of the horsem*n of fire. The king of Israel comes to theold prophet, and very significantly repeats over him his ownexclamation over Elijah, 'My father! My father! the chariot of Israeland the horsem*n thereof.' Elisha takes no notice of the grief andreverence expressed by the exclamation, but goes straight to his work,and what follows is remarkable indeed.

Here is a prophet dying; and his last words are not edifying moral andreligious reflections, nor does he seem to be much concerned to leavewith the king his final protest against Israel's sin, but his thoughtsare all of warfare, and his last effort is to stir up the sluggishyoung monarch to some of his own enthusiasm in the conflict with theenemy. It does not sound like an edifying deathbed. People might havesaid, 'Ah! secular and political affairs should be all out of a man'smind when he comes to his last moments.' But Elisha thought that tostick to his life's work till the last breath was out of him, and todevote the last breath to stimulating successors who might catch upthe torch that dropped from his failing hands, was no unworthy end ofa prophet's life.

So there followed what perhaps is not very familiar to some of us,that strange scene in which the dying man is far fuller of energy andvigour than the young king, and takes the upper hand of him, givinghim a series of curt, authoritative commands, each of which hepunctiliously obeys. 'Take bow and arrow,' and he took them. Then theprophet lays his wasted hand for a moment on the strong, young hand,and having thus either in symbol or reality—never mindwhich—communicated power, he says to him, 'Fling open the casem*nttowards the quarter where the enemy's territory lies,' and he flingsit open. 'Now, shoot,' and he shoots. Then the old man gathers himselfup on his bed, and with a triumphant shout exclaims, 'The Lord's arrowof victory!… Thou shalt smite the Syrians till they be consumed.'

That is not all. There is a second stage. The promise is given; thepossibility is opened before the king, and now all depends on thequestion whether he will rise to the height of the occasion. So theprophet says to him, 'Take the sheaf of arrows in your hand'; and hetakes them. And then he says, 'Now smite upon the ground.' It is atest. If he had been roused and stirred by what had gone before; if hehad any earnestness of belief in the power that was communicated, andany eagerness of desire to realise the promises that had been given ofcomplete victory, what would he have done? What would Elisha have doneif he had had the quiver in his hand? This king smites threeperfunctory taps on the floor, and having done what will satisfy theold man's whim, and what in decency he had to do, he stops, as ifweary of the whole performance. So the prophet bursts out inindignation on his dying bed—'Thou shouldst have smitten five or sixtimes; then hadst thou conquered utterly. Now thou shalt conquer butthrice.' A strange story; very far away from our atmosphere andlatitude! Yet are there not obviously in it great principles which maybe disentangled from their singular setting, and fully applied to us?I think so. Let us try and draw them from it.

I. Here we have the power communicated.

Now the story seems to indicate that it was only for a moment that theprophet's hands were laid on the king's hands, because, after they hadbeen so laid, he is bidden to go to the window and fling it open, andthe bedridden man could not go there with him; then he is bidden todraw the bow, and another hand upon his would have been a hindrancerather than a help. So it was but a momentary touch, a communicationof power in reality or in symbol that the muscular young hand needed,and the wasted old one could give. And is that not a parable for us?We, too, if we are Christian men and women, have a gospel of which thevery kernel is that there is to us a communication of power, and thevery name of that divine Spirit whom it is Christ's greatest work tosend flashing and flaming through the world, is the 'Spirit of Power.'And so the old promise that ye shall be clothed with strength from onhigh is the standing prerogative of the Christian Church. There is notmerely some partial communication, as when hand touched hand, butevery organ is vitalised and quickened; as in the case of the othermiracle of this prophet, when he stretched himself on the dead childeye to eye, and mouth to mouth, and hand to hand; and each partreceived the vitalising influence. We have, if we are Christianpeople, a Spirit given to us, and are 'strengthened with might by theSpirit in the inner man.'

That gift, that strength comes to us by contact, not with Elisha, butwith Elisha's Lord and Master. Christ's touch, when He was on earth,brought sight to the blind, healing to the sick, vigour to the limbsof the lame, life to the dead. And you and I can have that touch, farmore truly, and far more mightily operative upon us than they had, whoonly felt the contact of His finger, and only derived corporealblessing. For we can draw near to Him, and in union with Him by faithand love and obedience, can have His Spirit in close contact with ourspirits, and strengthening us for all service, and for every task.Brethren! that touch which gives strength is a real thing. It is nomere piece of mystical exaggeration when we speak of our spirits beingin actual contact with Christ's Spirit. Many of us have no clearconception, and still less a firm realisation, of that closer thancorporeal contact, more real than bodily presence, and more intimatethan any possible physical union, which is the great gift of God inJesus Christ, and brings to us, if we will, life and strengthaccording to our need. I would that the popular Christianity of thisday had a far larger infusion of the sound, mystical element that liesin the New Testament Christianity, and did not talk so exclusivelyabout a Christ that is for us as to have all but lost sight of thesecond stage of our relation to Christ, and lost a faith in a Christthat is in us Brethren! He can lay His hand upon your spirit's hand.He can flash light into your spirit's eye from His eye. He can putbreath and eloquence into your spirit's lips from His lips, and Hisheart beating against yours can transfuse—if I may so say—into youHis own life-blood, which cleanses from all sin, and fits for allconflict.

Then, further, let me remind you that this power, which is bestowed oncondition of contact, is given before duties are commanded. This king,in our acted parable, first had the touch of Elisha's fingers, andthen received the command from Elisha's lips, 'Shoot!' So Jesus Christgives before He commands, and commands nothing which He has not fittedus to perform. He is not 'an austere man, reaping where He did notsow, and gathering where He did not straw'; but He comes first to ussaying, 'I give thee Myself,' and then He looks us in the eyes andsays, 'Wilt thou not give Me thyself?' He bestows the strength first,and He commands the consequent duty afterwards.

Further, this strength communicated is realised in the effort to obeyChrist's great commands. Joash felt nothing when the prophet's handwas laid upon his but, perhaps, some tingling. But when he got the bowin his hand and drew the arrow to its head, the infused powerstiffened his muscles and strengthened him to pull; and though hecould not distinguish between his own natural corporeal ability andthat which had been thus imparted to him, the two co-operated in theone act, and it was when he drew his bow that he felt his strength.'Stretch forth thine hand,' said Christ to the lame man. But the veryinfirmity to be dealt with was his inability to stretch it forth. Atthe command he tried, and, to his wonder, the stiffened sinewsrelaxed, and the joint that had been immovable had free play, and hestretched out his hand, and it was restored whole as the other. So Hegives what He commands, and in obeying the command we realise and areconscious of the power. Elisha and Joash but act an illustration ofthe great word of Paul: 'Work out your own salvation … for it is Godthat worketh in you.'

II. And now, secondly, look at the perfected victory that is possible.

When the arrows, by God's strength operating through Joash's arm, hadbeen shot, the prophet says, 'The arrow of the Lord's victory! …thou shalt smite … till thou have consumed.' Yes, of course; if thearrow is the Lord's arrow, and the strength is His strength, then theonly issue corresponding to the power is perfect victory. I would thatChristian people realised more than they do practically in their livesthat while men's ideals and aims may be all unaccomplished, or butpartially approximated to, since God is God, His nature is perfection,and nothing that He does can fall beneath His ideal and purpose indoing it. All that comes from Him must correspond to Him from whom itcomes. He never leaves off till He has completed, nor can any one sayabout any of His work, 'He began to build, and was not able tofinish.' So, Christian people! I would that we should rise to theheight of our prerogatives, and realise the fact that perfect victoryis possible, regard being had to the power which 'teaches our hands towar and our fingers to fight.' A great deal of not altogetherprofitable jangling goes on at present in reference to the question ofwhether absolute sinlessness is possible for a Christian man on earth.Whatever view we take upon that question, it ought not to hide from usthe fact which should loom very much more largely in our dailyoperative belief than it does with most of us, that in so far as thepower which is given to us is concerned, perfect victory is within ourgrasp, and is the only worthy and correspondent result to the perfectpower which worketh in us. So there is no reason, as from any defectof the divine gift to the weakest of us, why our Christian livesshould have ups and downs, why there should be interruptions in ourdevotion, fallings short in our consecration, contradictions in ourconduct, slidings backward in our progress. There is no reason why, inour Christian year, there should be summer and winter; but accordingto the symbolical saying of one of the old prophets, 'The ploughmanmay overtake the reaper, and he that treadeth out the grapes him thatsoweth the seed.' In so far as our Christian life is concerned, theperfection of the power that is granted to us involves the possibilityof perfection in the recipient.

And the same thing is true in reference to a Christian man's work inthe world. God's Church has ample resources to overcome the evil ofthe world. The fire is tremendous, but the Christian Church haspossession of the floods that can extinguish the fire. If we utilisedall that we have, we might 'smite till we had consumed,' and turnedthe world into the Church of God. That is the ideal, the possibility,when we look at the Christian man as possessor of the communicatedpower of God. And then we turn to the reality, to our own consciences,to the state of our religious communities everywhere, and we see whatseems to be blank contradiction of the possibility. Where is theexplanation?

III. That brings me to my last point, the partial victory that isactually won.

'Thou shouldst have smitten five or six times; then hadst thou smittenthe Syrians till they were consumed. But now thou shalt conquer butthrice.' All God's promises and prophecies are conditional. There isno such thing as an unconditional promise of victory or of defeat;there is always an 'if.' There is always man's freedom as a factor. Itis strange. I suppose no thinking, metaphysical or theological, everhas solved or ever will, that great paradox of the power of a finitewill to lift itself up in the face of, and antagonism to, an InfiniteWill backed by infinite power, and to thwart its purposes. 'How oftenwould I have gathered … and ye would not.' Here is allthe power for a perfect victory, and yet the man that has it has to becontented with a very partial one.

It is a solemn thought that the Church's unbelief can limit and hinderChrist's work in the world, and we have here another illustration ofthat truth. You will find now and then in the newspapers,stories—they may be true or false—about caterpillars stopping atrain. There is an old legend of that fabulous creature the remora, atiny thing that fastened itself to the keel of a ship, and arrested itin mid-ocean. That is what we do with God and His purposes, and withHis power granted to us.

A low expectation limits the power. This king did not believe, did notexpect, that he would conquer utterly, and so he did not. You believethat you can do a thing, and in nine cases out of ten that goesnine-tenths of the way towards doing it. If we cast ourselves into ourfight expecting victory, the expectation will realise itself in ninecases out of ten. And the man who in faith refuses to say 'that beastof a word—impossible!' will find that 'all things are possible to himthat believeth.' 'Expect great things of God,' and you will feel Hispower tingling to your very fingertips, and will be able to draw thearrow to its head, and send it whizzing home to its mark.

Small desires block the power. Where there is an iron-bound coastrunning in one straight line, the whole ocean may dash itself on thecliffs at the base, but it enters not into the land; but where theshore opens itself out into some deep gulf far inland, and broadacross at the entrance, then the glad water rushes in and fills itall. Make room for God in your lives by your desires and you will getHim in the fullness of His power.

The use of our power increases our power. Joash had an unused quiverfull of arrows, and he only smote thrice. 'To him that hath shall begiven, and from him that hath not shall be taken.' The reason why manyof us professing Christians have so little of the strength of God inour lives is because we have made so little use of the strength thatwe have. Stow away your seed-corn in a granary and do not let the airinto it, and weevils and rats will consume it. Sow it broadcast on thefields with liberal hand, and it will spring up, 'some thirty, somesixty, some an hundredfold.' Use increases strength in all regions,and unused organs atrophy and wither.

So, dear friends! if we will keep ourselves in contact with Christ,and tremulously sensitive to His touch, if we will expect poweraccording to our tasks and our needs, if we will desire more of Hisgrace, and if we will honestly and manfully use the strength that wehave, then He will 'teach our hands to war and our fingers to fight,'and will give us strength, 'so that a bow of brass is bent by' ourarms, and we shall be 'more than conquerors through Him that lovedus.'

A KINGDOM'S EPITAPH

'In the ninth year of Hoshea the king of Assyria took Samaria, andcarried Israel away into Assyria, and placed them in Halah and inHabor by the river of Gozan, and in the cities of the Medes. 7. For soit was, that the children of Israel had sinned against the Lord theirGod, which had brought them up out of the land of Egypt, from underthe hand of Pharaoh king of Egypt, and had feared other gods, 8. Andwalked in the statutes of the heathen, whom the Lord cast out frombefore the children of Israel, and of the kings of Israel, which theyhad made. 9. And the children of Israel did secretly those things thatwere not right against the Lord their God, and they built them highplaces in all their cities, from the tower of the watchmen to thefenced city. 10. And they set them up images and groves in every highhill, and under every green tree: 11. And there they burnt incense inall the high places, as did the heathen whom the Lord carried awaybefore them; and wrought wicked things to provoke the Lord to anger:12. For they served idols, whereof the Lord had said unto them, Yeshall not do this thing. 13. Yet the Lord testified against Israel,and against Judah, by all the prophets and by all the seers, saying,Turn ye from your evil ways, and keep My commandments and My statutes,according to all the law which I commanded your fathers, and which Isent to you by My servants the prophets. 14. Notwithstanding theywould not hear, but hardened their necks, like to the neck of theirfathers, that did not believe in the Lord their God. 15. And theyrejected His statutes, and His covenant that He made with theirfathers, and His testimonies which He testified against them; and theyfollowed vanity, and became vain, and went after the heathen that wereround about them, concerning whom the Lord had charged them, that theyshould not do like them. 16. And they left all the commandments of theLord their God, and made them molten images, even two calves, and madea grove, and worshipped all the host of heaven, and served Baal. 17.And they caused their sons and their daughters to pass through thefire, and used divination and enchantments, and sold themselves to doevil in the sight of the Lord, to provoke Him to anger. 18. Thereforethe Lord was very angry with Israel, and removed them out of Hissight: there was none left but the tribe of Judah only.'—2 KINGSxvii. 6-18.

The brevity of the account of the fall of Samaria in verse 6 contrastswith the long enumeration of the sins which caused it, in the rest ofthis passage. Modern critics assume that verses 7-23 are 'aninterpolation by the Deuteronomic writer,' apparently for no reasonbut because they trace Israel's fall to its cause in idolatry. Butsurely the bare notice in verse 6, immediately followed by verse 24,cannot have been all that the original historian had to say about sotragic an end of so large a part of the people of God. The wholepurpose of the Old Testament history is not to chronicle events, butto declare God's dealings, and the fall of a kingdom was of littlemoment, except as revealing the righteousness of God.

The main part of this passage, then, is the exposition of the causesof the national ruin. It is a post mortem inquiry into thediseases that killed a kingdom. At first sight, these verses seem amere heaping together, not without some repetition, of one or twocharges; but, more closely looked at, they disclose a very strikingprogress of thought. In the centre stands verse 13, telling of themission of the prophets. Before it, verses 7-12, narrate Israel's sin,which culminates in provoking the Lord to anger (ver. 11). After it,the sins are reiterated with noticeable increase of emphasis, andagain culminate in provoking the Lord to anger (ver. 17). So we havetwo degrees of guilt—one before and one after the prophets' messages;and two kindlings of God's anger—one which led to the sending of theprophets, and one which led to the destruction of Israel. The lessonsthat flow from this obvious progress of thought are plain.

I. The less culpable apostasy before the prophets' warnings. The firstwords of verse 7, rendered as in the Revised Version, give the purposeof all that follows; namely, to declare the causes of the calamityjust told. Note that the first characteristic of Israel's sin wasungrateful departure from God. There is a world of pathos and meaningin that 'their God,' which is enhanced by the allusion to the Egyptiandeliverance. All sins are attempts to break the chain which binds usto God—a chain woven of a thousand linked benefits. All practicallydeny His possession of us, and ours of Him, and display the shortmemory which ingratitude has. All have that other feature hinted athere—the contrast, so absurd if it were not so sad, between the worthand power of the God who is left and the other gods who are preferred.The essential meanness and folly of Israel are repeated by every heartdeparting from the living God.

The double origin of the idolatry is next set forth. It was in partimported and in part home-made. We have little conception of thestrength of faith and courage which were needed to keep the Jews frombecoming idolaters, surrounded as they were by such. But the same areneeded to-day to keep us from learning the ways of the world andgetting a snare to our souls. Now, as ever, walking with God meanswalking in the opposite direction from the crowd, and that requiressome firm nerve. The home-made idolatry is gibbeted as being accordingto 'the statutes of the kings.' What right had they to prescribe theirsubjects' religion? The influence of influential people, especially ifexerted against the service of God, is hard to resist; but it is noexcuse for sin that it is fashionable.

The blindness of Israel to the consequences of their sin is hinted inthe reference to the fate of the nations whom they imitated. They hadbeen cast out; would not their copyists learn the lesson? We, too,have examples enough of what godless lives come to, if we had thesense to profit by them. The God who cast out the vile Canaanites andall the rest of the wicked crew before the sons of the desert has notchanged, and will treat Israel as He did them, if Israel come down totheir level. Outward privileges make idolatry or any sin more sinful,and its punishment more severe.

Another characteristic of Israel's sin is its being done 'secretly.'Of the various meanings proposed for that word (ver. 9) the best seemsto be that it refers to the attempt to combine the worship of God andof idols, of which the calf worship is an instance. Elijah had longago taunted the people with trying 'to hobble on both knees,' or on'two opinions' at once; and here the charge is of covering idolatrywith a cloak of Jehovah worship. A varnish of religion is convenientand cheap, and often effectual in deceiving ourselves as well asothers; but 'as a man thinketh in his heart, so is he,' whatever hiscloak may be; and the thing which we count most precious and long mostfor is our god, whatever our professions of orthodox religion.

The idolatry is then described, in rapid touches, as universal.Wherever there was a solitary watchman's tower among the pasturesthere was a high place, and they were reared in every city. Images andAsherim deformed every hill-top and stood under every spreading tree.Everywhere incense loaded the heavy air with its foul fragrance. Theold scenes of unnamable abomination, which had been so terriblyavenged, seemed to have come back, and to cry aloud for anotherpurging by fire and sword.

The terrible upshot of all was 'to provoke the Lord to anger.' The NewTestament is as emphatic as the Old in asserting that there is thecapacity of anger in the God whose name is love, and that sin calls itforth. The special characteristic of sin, by which it thus attractsthat lightning, is that it is disobedience. As in the first sin, so inall others, God has said, 'Ye shall not do this thing'; and we say,'Do it we will.' What can the end of that be but the anger of theLord? 'Because of these things cometh the wrath of God upon thechildren of disobedience.'

II. Verse 13 gives the pleading of Jehovah. The mission of theprophets was God's reply to Israel's rebellion, and was equally thesign of His anger and of His love. The more sin abounds, the more doesGod multiply means to draw back to Himself. The deafer the ears, thelouder the beseeching voice of His grieved and yet pitying love. Hisanger clothes itself in more stringent appeals and clearer revelationsof Himself before it takes its slaughtering weapons in hand. Thedarker the background of sin, the brighter the beams of His light showagainst it. Man's sin is made the occasion for a more glorious displayof God's character and heart. It is on the storm-cloud that the sunpaints the rainbow. Each successive stage in man's departure from Godevoked a corresponding increase in the divine effort to attract himback, till 'last of all He sent unto them His Son.' In nature,attraction diminishes as distance increases; in the realms of grace,it grows with distance. The one desire of God's heart is that sinnerswould return from their evil ways, and He presses on them the solemnthought of the abundant intimations of His will which have been givenfrom of old, and are pealed again into all ears by living voices. Hislaw for us is not merely an old story spoken centuries ago, but isvocal in our consciences to-day, and fresh as when Sinai flamed andthundered above the camp, and the trumpet thrilled each heart.

III. The heavier sin that followed the divine pleading. That divinevoice leaves no man as it finds him. If it does not sway him toobedience, it deepens his guilt, and makes him more obstinate. Likesome perverse ox in the yoke, he stiffens his neck, and stands thevery picture of brute obduracy. There is an awful alternative involvedin our hearing of God's message, which never returns to Him void, butever does something to the hearer, either softening or hardening,either scaling the eyes or adding another film on them, either beingthe 'savour of life unto life or of death unto death.' The mission ofthe prophets changed forgetfulness of God's 'statutes' into'rejection' of them, and made idolatry self-conscious rebellion. Alas,that men should make what is meant to be a bond to unite them to Godinto a wedge to part them farther from Him! But how constantly that isthe effect of the gospel, and for the same reason as in Israel—thatthey 'did not believe in the Lord their God'!

The miserable result on the sinners' own natures is described withpregnant brevity in verse 15. 'They followed vanity, and became vain.'The worshipper became like the thing worshipped, as is always thecase. The idol is vanity, utter emptiness and nonentity; and whoeverworships nothingness will become in his own inmost life as empty andvain as it is. That is the retribution attendant on all trust in, andlonging after, the trifles of earth, that we come down to the level ofwhat we set our hearts upon. We see the effects of that principle inthe moral degradation of idolaters. Gods lustful, cruel, capricious,make men like themselves. We see it working upwards in Christianity,in which God becomes man that men may become like God, and of whichthe whole law is put into one precept, which is sure to be kept, inthe measure of the reality of a man's religion. 'Be ye thereforeimitators of God, as beloved children.'

In verses 16 and 17 the details of the idolatry follow the generalstatement, as in verses 9 to 12, but with additions and with increasedseverity of tone. We hear now of calves and star worship, and Baal,and burning children to Moloch, and divination and enchantment. Thecatalogue is enlarged, and there is added to it the terribledeclaration that Israel had 'sold themselves to do evil in the sightof the Lord.' The same thing was said by Elijah to Ahab—a nobleinstance of courage. The sinner who steels himself against the divineremonstrance, does not merely go on in his old sins, but adds newones. Begin with the calves, and fancy that you are worshippingJehovah, and you will end with Baal and Moloch. Refuse to hear God'spleadings, and you will sell your freedom, and become the lowest andonly real kind of slave—the bondsman of evil. When that point ofentire abandonment to sin, which Paul calls being 'sold under sin,' isreached, as it may be reached, at all events by a nation, andcorruption has struck too deep to be cast out, once again the anger ofthe Lord is provoked; but this time it comes in a different guise. Thearmies of the Assyrians, not the prophets, are its messengers now.Israel had made itself like the nations whom God had used it todestroy, and now it shall be destroyed as they were.

To be swept out of His sight is the fate of obstinate rejection of Hiscommandments and pleadings. Israel made itself the slave of evil, andwas made the captive of Assyria. Self-willed freedom, which does as itlikes, and heeds not God, ends in bondage, and is itself bondage.God's anger against sin speaks pleadingly to us all, saying, 'Do notthis abominable thing that I hate.' Well for us if we hearken to Hisvoice when 'His anger is kindled but a little.' If we do not yield toHim, and cast away our idols, we shall become vain as they. Our evilwill be more fatal, and our obstinacy more criminal, because Hecalled, and we refused. 'Who may abide the day of His coming? and whoshall stand when He appeareth?' These captives, dragging their wearylimbs, with despair in their hearts, across the desert to a land ofbondage, were but shadows, in the visible region of things, of the farmore doleful and dreary fate that sooner or later must fall on thosewho would none of God's counsel, and despised all His reproof, butcling to their idol till they and it are destroyed together.

DIVIDED WORSHIP

'These nations feared the Lord, and served their own gods.'—2 KINGSxvii. 33.

The kingdom of Israel had come to its fated end. Its king and peoplehad been carried away captives in accordance with the cruel policy ofthe great Eastern despotisms, which had so much to do with weakeningthem by their very conquests. The land had lain desolate anduncultivated for many years, savage beasts had increased in theuntilled solitudes, even as weeds and nettles grew in the gardens andvineyards of Samaria. At last the king of Assyria resolved to peoplethe country; and for this purpose he sent a mixed multitude from thedifferent nationalities of his empire to the land of Israel. They weremen of five nationalities, most of them recently conquered. Israel hadbeen deported to different parts of the Assyrian empire; men fromdifferent parts of the empire were deported to the land of Israel.Such cruel uprootings seemed to be wisdom, but were really a policythat kept alive disaffection. It was the same mistake (and bore thesame fruits) as Austria pursued in sending Hungarian regiments to keepdown Venice, and Venetian-born soldiers to overawe Hungary.

These new settlers brought with them their national peculiarities, andamong the rest, their gods. They knew nothing about the Jehovah whomthey supposed to be the local deity of Israel; and when they weretroubled by the wild beasts which had, of course, rapidly increased inthe land, they attributed it to their neglect of His worship, and sentan embassy to the king of Assyria telling that as they 'know not themanners of the God of the land,' He has sent lions among them.

This is an instructive example of the heathen way of thinking. Theyhave their local deities. Each land, each valley, each mountain top,has its own. They are ready to worship them all, for they have no realworship for any. Their reason for worship is to escape from harm, topay the tribute to which the god has a right on his own territory,lest he should make it the worse for them if they neglect it. 'Themild tolerance of heathendom' simply means the utter absence ofreligion and an altogether inadequate notion of deity.

So the settlers have sent to them one of these schismatic priests whohad belonged to the extinct sanctuary at Beth-el, and he, apparently,not having any truer notions of God or of worship than they had,nothing loth, teaches them the rites of the Israelite worship, whichwas not like that of Judah, as is distinctly stated in the context.This worship of Jehovah was, however, blended by them with their ownnational idolatry. How contemptuously the historian enumerates thehard names of their gods and the rabble rout of them which each nationmade! 'The men of Babylon made Succoth-benoth' (probably adeity, though the name may mean booths for purposes of prostitution)and the others 'made Nergal and Ashima and Nibhaz and Tartak.'What names, and what a pantheon! 'They feared the Lord and servedtheir own gods.'

This was the beginning of the Samaritan people, whom we find throughthe rest of Scripture even down to the Acts of the Apostles, retainingsome trace of their heathen origin. Simon Magus bewitched them in hissorceries. They began as heathen, though in lapse of years they cameto be pure monotheists, even more rigid than the Jews themselves, andtoday, if you went to Nablus, you would find the small remnant oftheir descendants adhering to Moses and the law, guarding their sacredcopy of the Pentateuch with unintelligent awe, and eating the PaschalLamb with wild rites. They have changed the object of their worship,but one fears that it is little more real and deep than in old days,2500 years ago, when their forefathers 'feared the Lord and servedtheir own gods.'

Now I venture to take this verse as indicative of a tendency whichbelongs to a great many more people than the confused mass of settlersthat were shot down on the hills of Israel by the king of Assyria. Itis really a description of a great deal of what goes by the name ofreligion amongst us.

I. The Religion of Fear.

These people would never have thought about God if it had not been forthe lions. When they did think of Him it was only to tremble beforeHim. The reason for their trembling was that they did not know theetiquette of His worship; that they thought of Him as having rightsover them because they had come into His territory, which He wouldexact, or punish them for omitting. In a word, their notion of God wasthat of a jealous, capricious tyrant, whose ways were inscrutable tothem, in whose territory they found themselves without their will, andwho needed to be propitiated if they would live in peace.

And this is the thought which is most operative in many minds, thoughit is veiled in more seemly phrases, and which darkens and injures allthose on whom it lays hold. Need I spend time in showing you how,point by point, this picture is a picture of many among us? How manyof you think of God when you are ill, and forget Him when you arewell? How many of you pour out a prayer when you are in trouble, andforget all about Him and it when you are prosperous? How many of yousee God in your calamities and not in your joys? Why do people callsudden deaths and the like the 'visitation of God'? How many of us arelike Italian sailors who burn candles and shriek out to the Madonnawhen the storm catches them, and get drunk in the first wine-shopwhich they come to when they land! Is not many a man's thought of God,'I knew Thee that Thou wert an austere Man, and I was afraid'?

The popular religion is largely a religion of fear.

There is a fear which is right and noble. That is reverend, humbleadoration at the sight or thought of God's great perfections. Angelsveil their faces with their wings. Such awe has no thought of personalconsequences—is inseparable from all true knowledge of God; for allgreatness of character is perfected by love. Of such fear we are notnow speaking.

Terror of God is deep in men's hearts.

Fear is the apprehension of personal evil from some person or thing.Now I believe that terror has its place in the human economy, and inreligion, as the sense of pain has. There is something in man'srelations to God to cause it.

The Bible sets forth 'the terror of the Lord,' that men may tremblebefore Him. Moses said, 'I exceedingly fear and quake.' But thatterror is only right when it proceeds from a sense of God's holinessand a consciousness of my own sinfulness. It is not right when it is amere dread of a hard tyrant. That terror is only right when it leadsto a joyful acceptance of God's revelation of His love in Christ.

Fear was never meant to be permanent, it is only the alarum-bell whichrings to wake up the soul that sleeps on when in mortal peril. And itshould pass into penitence, faith, joy in Jesus. 'We have access withconfidence by the faith of Him.' The brightness is great and awful,but go nearer, as you can in Jesus, and lo! there is love in thebrightness. You see it all tender and sweet. A heart and a hand arethere, and from the midst of it the Father's voice speaks, and says,'My son, give Me thine heart.'

The religion of fear is worthless. It produces no holiness, it doesnothing for a man, it does not bind him to God. He is none thestronger for it. It paralyses so far as it does anything.

It is spasmodic and intermittent. It is impossible to keep it up, soit comes in fits and starts. When the morning comes men laugh at theirterrors. It leads to wild endeavours to forget God—atheism—toinsensibility. He who begins by fearing when there was no need, endsby not fearing when he ought.

II. The Religion of Form.

The Samaritans' whole worship was outward worship. They did the thingswhich the Beth-el priest taught them to do, and that was all.

And this again is a type, very common in our day. Religion must haveforms. The forms often help to bring us the spirit. But we are alwaysin danger of trusting to them too much.

How many of us have our Christianity only in outward seeming? The onlything that unites men to God is love.

So your external connection with God's worship is of no use at allunless you have that.

Church and chapel-goers are alike exposed to the danger of erectingthe forms of worship to a place in which they cannot be put withoutmarring the spirit of worship. Whether our worship be more or lesssymbolic, whether we have a more or less elaborate ritual, whether wethink more or less of sacraments, whether we put hearing a sermon asmore or less prominent, or even if we follow the formless forms of theFriends, we are all tempted to substitute our forms for the spiritwhich alone is worship.

III. The Religion of Compromise or Worldliness.

They had God and they had gods. They liked the latter best. They gave
God formal worship, but they gave the others more active service.

Such a kind of religion is a type of much that we see around us; theattempt to be Christians and worldlings, the indecision under whichmany men labour all their lives, being drawn one way by theirconsciences, another by their inclinations.

You cannot unite the two. God requires all. He fills the heart, andclaims supreme control over all the nature. There cannot be twosupreme in the soul. It cannot be God and self. It must be God orself. You may look now one way and now another, but the way the heartgoes is the thing. Mr. Facing-both-ways does not really face bothways. He only turns quickly round from one to the other.

Such divided religion is impossible in the nature of God—of thesoul—of religion.

To attempt it, then, is really to decide against God.

It is weak and unmanly to be thus vague and decided by circ*mstances.
You would have been a Mohammedan if you had been born in Turkey.

You ought to decide for God.

He claims, He deserves, He will reward and bless, your whole soul.

'Choose you this day whom ye will serve. If the Lord be God, followHim' If Baal or Succoth-benoth, then follow him. 'You cannot serve Godand Mammon.' 'He that is not for us is against us.' Be one thing orthe other.

HEZEKIAH, A PATTERN OF DEVOUT LIFE

'Hezekiah trusted in the Lord God of Israel…. 6. He clave to theLord, and departed not from following Him, but kept Hiscommandments.'—2 KINGS xviii. 5,6.

Devout people in all ages and stations are very much like each other.The elements of godliness are always the same. This king of Israel,something like two thousand six hundred years ago, and the humblestChristian to-day have the family likeness on their faces. These words,which are an outline sketch of the king's character, are really asketch of the religious life at all times and in all places. Herealised it; why may not we? He achieved it amid much ignorance; whyshould not we amid our blaze of knowledge? He accomplished it amid thetemptations of a monarchy; why should not we in our humbler spheres?

There are four things set forth here as constituting a religious life.We begin at the bottom with the foundation of everything. 'He trustedin the Lord God of Israel.' The Old Testament is just as emphatic indeclaring that there is no religion without trust, and that trust isthe very nerve and life-blood of religion, as is the New. Only that inthe one half of the book our translators have chosen to use the word'trust,' and in the other half of the book they have chosen to use,for the very same act, the word 'faith.' They have thus somewhatobscured the absolute identity which exists in the teaching of the Oldand of the New Testament as regards the bond which unites men to God.That union always was, and always will be, begun in the simpleattitude and exercise of trust, and everything else will come out ofthat, and without that nothing else will come.

So this king had a certain measure of knowledge about the character ofGod, and that measure of knowledge led him to lean all his weight uponthe Lord. You and I know a great deal more about God and His ways andpurposes than Hezekiah did, but we can make no better use of it thanhe did—translate our knowledge into faith, and rely with simple,absolute confidence on Him whose name we know in Christ more fully andblessedly than was possible to Hezekiah.

And need I remind you of how, in this life of which the outline ishere given and the inmost secret is here disclosed, there weresignificant and magnificent instances of the power of humble trust tobring to an else helpless man all the blessings that he needs, and toput a crystal wall round about him that will preserve him from everyevil, howsoever threatening it may seem?

'It has come addressed to me, but it is meant for Thee. VindicateThine own cause by delivering Thine own servant.' And so, 'when themorning dawned, they were all dead men,' and faith rejoiced in aperfect deliverance. And you and I may get the same answer, in themidst of all our trials, difficulties, toils, and conflicts, if onlywe will go the same way to get it, and let our faith work, asHezekiah's worked, and take everything that troubles us to our Fatherin the heavens, and be quite sure that He is the God 'who daily bearsour burdens.' Let us begin with the simple act of confidence in Him.That is the foundation, and on that we may build everything besides.

Let us see what this man further built upon it. The second story, if Imay so say, of the temple-fortress of his life, upon the foundation offaith, was, 'He clave to the Lord.'

That is to say, the act of confidence must be followed and perfectedby tenacious adherence with all the tendrils of a man's nature to theGod in whom he says that he trusts. The metaphor is a very forcibleone, so familiar in Scripture as that we are apt to overlook itsemphasis. Let me recall one or two of the instances in which it isemployed about other matters which throw light on its force here.

First of all, remember that sweet picture of the widow woman from Moaband the two daughters-in-law, one sent back, not reluctantly, to herhome; and the other persisting in keeping by Naomi's side, in spite ofdifficulties and remonstrances. With kisses of real love Orpah wentback, but she did go back, to her people and her gods, but 'Ruth claveunto her.' So should we cling to God, as Ruth flung her arms roundNaomi, and twined her else lonely and desolate heart about her dearand only friend, for whose sweet sake she became a willing exile fromkindred and country. Is that how we cleave to the Lord?

More sacred still are the lessons that are suggested by the fact thatthis is the word employed to describe the blessed and holy union ofman and woman in pure wedded life, and I suppose some allusion to thatuse of the expression underlies its constant application to therelation of the believing soul to Jehovah. For by trust the soul iswedded to Him, and so 'joined to the Lord' as to be 'one spirit.'

Or if we do not care to go so deep as that, let us take the metaphorthat lies in the word itself, without reference to its Scripturalapplications. As the limpet holds on to its rock, as the ivy clings tothe wall, as a shipwrecked sailor grasps the spar which keeps his headabove water, so a Christian man ought to hold on to God, with all hisenergy, and with all parts of his nature. The metaphor impliestenacity; closeness of adhesion, in heart and will, in thought, indesire, and in all the parts of our receptive humanity, all of whichcan touch God and be touched by Him, and all of which are blessed onlyin the measure in which, yielding to Him, they are filled and steadiedand glorified.

And there is implied, too, not only tenacity of adherence, buttenacity in the face of obstacles. There must be resistance to all theforces which would detach, if there is to be union with God in themidst of life in the world. Or, to recur for a moment to the figurethat I employed a moment ago, as the sailor clings to a spar, thoughthe waves dash round him, and his fingers get stiffened with cold andcramped with keeping the one position, and can scarcely hold on, buthe knows that it is life to cling and death to loosen, and so tightenshis grasp; thus have we to lay hold of God, and in spite of allobstacles, to keep hold of Him. Our grasp tends to slacken, and isfeeble at the best, even if there were nothing outside of us to makeit difficult for us to get a good grip. But there are howling windsand battering waves blowing and beating on us, and making it hard tokeep our hold.

Do not let us yield to these, but in spite of them all let our heartstighten round Him, for it is only in His sweet, eternal, perfect lovethat they can be at rest. And let our thoughts keep close to Him inspite of all distractions, for it is only in the measure in which Hislight fills our minds and His truth occupies our thoughts that ourthinking spirits will be at rest. And let our desires, as thetentacles of some shell-fish fasten upon the rock, and feel outtowards the ocean that is coming to it, let our desires go all outtowards Him until they touch that after which they feel, and curlround it in repose and in blessedness.

The whole secret of a joyful, strong, noble Christian life lieshere—that on the foundation of faith we should rear tenaciousadherence to Him in spite of all obstacles. So it was a mostencyclopaedic, though laconic, exhortation that that 'good man' sentdown from Jerusalem to encourage the first heathen converts gave, wheninstead of all other instruction or advice, or inculcation of lessimportant, and yet real, Christian duties, Barnabas exhorted them all'that with purpose of heart'—the full devotion of their inmostnatures—'they should cleave to the Lord.'

Then the third stage, or the third story, in this building is that,cleaving to the Lord, 'he departed not from following Him.' Themetaphor of cleaving implies proximity and union; the metaphor offollowing implies distance which is being diminished. These two areincongruous, and the very incongruity helps to give point to therepresentation. The same two ideas of union and yet of pursuit arebrought still more closely together in other parts of Scripture. Forinstance, there is a remarkable saying in one of the Psalms,translated in our Bible—'My soul followeth hard after Thee. Thy righthand upholdeth me,' where the expression 'followeth hard after' is alame attempt at translating the perhaps impossible-to-be-translatedfullness of the original, which reads 'My soul cleaveth after Thee.'It is an incongruous combination of ideas, by its very incongruity andparadoxical form suggesting a profound truth—viz. that in all theconscious union and tenacious adherence to God which makes theChristian life, there is ever, also, a sense of distance which kindlesaspiration and leads to the effort after continual progress. Howeverclose we may be to God, it is always possible to press closer. Howeverfull may be the union, it may always be made fuller; and the cleavingspirit will always be longing for a closer contact and a more blessedsense of being in touch with God.

So, as we climb, new heights reveal themselves, and the further weadvance in the Christian life the more are we conscious of theinfinite depths that yet remain to be traversed. Hence arises onegreat element of the blessedness of being a Christian—namely, that weneed not fear ever coming to the end of the growth in holiness and theincrease of joy and power that are possible to us. So that weariness,and the sense of having reached the limits that are possible on agiven path, which sooner or later fall upon men that live for anythingbut God, can never be ours if we live for Him. But the oldest and mostexperienced will have the same forward-looking glances of hope andforward-directed steps of strenuous effort as the youngest beginner onthe path; and a Paul will be able to say when he is 'Paul the aged,'and 'the time of his departure is at hand,' that he 'forgets thethings that are behind, and reaches forth unto the things that arebefore, while he presses towards the mark.' Let us be thankful for theendless progress which is possible to the Christian, and let us see toit that we are never paralysed into supposing that 'to-morrow must beas this day,' but trust the infinite resources of our God, andbe sure that we growingly make our own the growing gifts which Hebestows.

And so, lastly, the fourth element in this analysis of a devout lifeis 'He kept the commandments of the Lord.' That is the outcome of themall. Faith, adhesion, aspiration, and progress, all vindicate theirvalue and reality in the simple, homely way of practical obedience.

Let us learn two things. One as to the worthlessness of all theseothers, if they do not issue in this. Not that these inward emotionsare ever to be despised, but that, if they are genuine in our hearts,they cannot but manifest themselves in our lives. And so, dearChristian friends! do you not build upon your faith, on your adherenceto God, on your aspirations after Him, unless you can bring intocourt, as witnesses for these, daily and hourly, your efforts afterthe conformity of your will to His, in the great things and in thesmall. Then, and only then, may we be sure that our confidence is nota delusion, and that it is to Him that we cleave when our feet treadin the paths of goodness.

And on the other hand, let us learn that all attempts to be obedientto a divine will which do not begin with trust and cleaving to Him arevain. There is no other way to get that conformity of will except bythat union of spirit. All other attempts are beginning at the wrongend. You do not begin building your houses with the chimney-pots, butmany a man who seeks to obey without trusting does precisely committhat fault. Let us be sure that the foundations are in, and then letus be sure that we do not stop half-way up, lest all that pass byshould mock and say, 'This man began to build and was not able tofinish.'

How many professing Christians' lives are half-finished and unroofedhouses, because they have not 'added to their faith'—that is, totheir 'cleaving to the Lord'—endless aspiration and continualprogress, and to their aspiration and their progress the peaceablefruit of practical righteousness! If these things be in us and abound,they mark us as devout men after God's pattern. And if we want to bedevout men after God's pattern, we must follow God's sequence, whichbegins with trust and ends with obedience.

'HE UTTERED HIS VOICE, THE EARTH MELTED'

'Then Isaiah the son of Amos sent to Hezekiah, saying, Thus saith theLord God of Israel, That which thou hast prayed to Me againstSennacherib king of Assyria I have heard. 21. This is the word thatthe Lord hath spoken concerning him; The virgin, the daughter of Zion,hath despised thee, and laughed thee to scorn; the daughter ofJerusalem hath shaken her head at thee. 22. Whom hast thou reproachedand blasphemed? and against whom hast thou exalted thy voice, andlifted up thine eyes on high? even against the Holy One of Israel….28. Because thy rage against Me and thy tumult is come up into Mineears, therefore I will put My hook in thy nose, and My bridle in thylips, and I will turn thee back by the way by which thou camest. 29.And this shall be a sign unto thee, Ye shall eat this year such thingsas grow of themselves, and in the second year that which springeth ofthe same; and in the third year sow ye, and reap, and plant vineyards,and eat the fruits thereof. 30. And the remnant that is escaped of thehouse of Judah shall yet again take root downward, and bear fruitupward. 31. For out of Jerusalem shall go forth a remnant, and theythat escape out of mount Zion: the zeal of the Lord of hosts shall dothis. 32. Therefore thus saith the Lord concerning the king ofAssyria, He shall not come into this city, nor shoot an arrow there,nor come before it with shield, nor cast a bank against it. 33. By theway that he came, by the same shall he return, and shall not come intothis city, saith the Lord. 34. For I will defend this city, to saveit, for Mine own sake, and for My servant David's sake. 35. And itcame to pass that night, that the angel of the Lord went out, andsmote in the camp of the Assyrians an hundred fourscore and fivethousand: and when they arose early in the morning, behold, they wereall dead corpses. 36. So Sennacherib king of Assyria departed, andwent and returned, and dwelt at Nineveh. 37. And it came to pass, ashe was worshipping in the house of Nisroch his god, that Adrammelechand Sharezer his sons smote him with the sword; and they escaped intothe land of Armenia: and Esarhaddon his son reigned in his stead.'—2KINGS xix. 20-22; 28-37.

At an earlier stage of the Assyrian invasion Hezekiah had sent toIsaiah, asking him to pray to his God for deliverance, and hadreceived an explicit assurance that the invasion would be foiled. Whenthe second stage was reached, and Hezekiah was personally summoned tosurrender, by a letter which scoffed at Isaiah's promise, he himselfprayed before the Lord. Isaiah does not seem to have been present, andmay not have known of the prayer. At all events, the answer was givento him to give to the king; and it is noteworthy that, as in theformer case, he does not himself come, but sends to Hezekiah. He didcome when he had to bring a message of death, and again when he had torebuke (chap. xx.), but now he only sends. As the chosen speaker ofJehovah's will, he was mightier than kings, and must not imperil thedignity of the message by the behaviour of the messenger. In asentence, Hezekiah's prayer is answered, and then the prophet, inJehovah's name, bursts into a wonderful song of triumph over thedefeated invader. 'I have heard.' That is enough. Hezekiah's prayerhas, as it were, fired the fuse or pulled the trigger, and theexplosion follows, and the shot is sped. 'Whereas thou hast prayed,… I have heard,' is ever true, and God's hearing is God's acting inanswer. The methods of His response vary, the fact that He responds tothe cry of despair driven to faith by extremity of need does not vary.

But it is noteworthy that, with that brief, sufficient assurance,Hezekiah, as it were, is put aside, and instead of three fighters inthe field, the king, with God to back him, and on the other sideSennacherib, two only, appear. It is a duel between Jehovah and thearrogant heathen who had despised Him. Jerusalem appears for a moment,in a magnificent piece of poetical scorn, as despising and makinggestures of contempt at the baffled would-be conqueror, as Miriam andher maidens did by the Red Sea. The city is 'virgin,' as many afortress in other lands has been named, because uncaptured. But she,too, passes out of sight, and Jehovah and Sennacherib stand opposed onthe field. God speaks now not 'concerning,' but to, him, and indictshim for insane pride, which was really a denial of dependence on God,and passionate antagonism to Him, as manifested not only in his waragainst Jehovah's people, but also in the tone of his insolentdefiances of Hezekiah, in which he scoffed at the vain trust which thelatter was placing in his God, and paralleled Jehovah with the gods ofthe nations whom he had already conquered (Isaiah xix. 12).

The designation of God, characteristic of Isaiah, as 'the Holy One ofIsrael,' expresses at once His elevation above, and separation from,all mundane, creatural limitations, and His special relation to Hispeople, and both thoughts intensify Sennacherib's sin. The Highest,before whose transcendent height all human elevations sink to auniform level, has so joined Israel to Himself that to touch it is tostrike at Him, and to vaunt one's self against it is to be arroganttowards God. That mighty name has received wider extension now, butthe wider sweep does not bring diminished depth, and lowly souls whotake that name for their strong tower can still run into it and besafe from 'the oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,' and thestrongest foes.

There is tremendous scorn in the threat with which the divine address toSennacherib ends. The dreaded world-conqueror is no more in God's eyesthan a wild beast, which He can ring and lead as He will, and not evenas formidable as that, but like a horse or a mule, that can easily bebridled and directed. What majestic assertion lies in these figures andin 'My hook' and 'My bridle!' How many conquerors and mighty mensince then have been so mastered, and their schemes balked! Sennacheribhad to return by 'the way that he came,' and to tramp back, foiled anddisappointed, over all the weary miles which he had trodden before withsuch insolent confidence of victory. A modern parallel is Napoleon'sretreat from Moscow. But the same experience really befalls all whoorder life regardless of God. Their schemes may seem to succeed, but indeepest truth they fail, and the schemers never reach their goal.

In verse 29 the prophet turns away abruptly and almost contemptuouslyfrom Sennacherib to speak comfortably to Jerusalem, addressingHezekiah first, but turning immediately to the people. The substanceof his words to them is, first, the assurance that the Assyrianinvasion had limits of time set to it by God; and, second, that beyondit lay prosperous times, when the prophetic visions of a flourishingIsrael should be realised in fact. For two seed-times only field workwas to be impossible on account of the Assyrian occupation, but it wasto foam itself away, like a winter torrent, before a third season forsowing came round.

But how could this sequence of events, which required time for itsunfolding, be 'a sign'? We must somewhat modify our notions of a signto understand the prophet. The Scripture usage does not only designateby that name a present event or thing which guarantees the truth of aprophecy, but it sometimes means an event, or sequence of events, inthe future, which, when they have come to pass in accordance with thedivine prediction of them, will shed back light on other divine wordsor acts, and demonstrate that they were of God. Thus Moses was givenas a sign of his mission the worshipping in Mount Sinai, which was totake place only after the Exodus. So with Isaiah's sign here. When theharvest of the third year was gathered in, then Israel would know thatthe prophet had spoken from God when he had sung Sennacherib's defeat.For the present, Hezekiah and Judah had to live by faith; but when thedeliverance was complete, and they were enjoying the fruits of theirlabours and of God's salvation, then they could look back on the wearyyears, and recognise more clearly than while these were slowly passinghow God had been in all the trouble, and had been carrying on Hispurposes of mercy through it all. And there will be a 'sign' for us inlike manner when we look back from eternity on the transitoryconflicts of earthly life, and are satisfied with the harvest which Hehas caused to spring from our poor sowings to the Spirit.

The definite promise of deliverance in verses 32-34 is addressed toJudah, and emphasises the completeness of the frustration of theinvader's efforts. There is a climax in the enumeration of the thingsthat he will not be allowed to do—he will not make his entry into thecity, nor even shoot an arrow there, nor even make preparation for asiege. His whole design will be overturned, and as had already beensaid (ver. 28), he will retrace his steps a baffled man.

Note the strong antithesis: 'He shall not come into this city, … forI will defend this city.' Zion is impregnable because Jehovah defendsit. Sennacherib can do nothing, for he is fighting against God. And ifwe 'are come unto the city of the living God,' we can take the samepromise for the strength of our lives. God saves Zion 'for His ownsake,' for His name is concerned in its security, both because He hastaken it for His own and because He has pledged His word to guard it.It would be a blot on His faithfulness, a slur on His power, if itshould be conquered while it remains true to Him, its King. His honouris involved in protecting us if we enter into the strong city of whichthe builder and maker is God. And 'for David's sake,' too, He defendsZion, because He had sworn to David to dwell there. But Zion'ssecurity becomes an illusion if Zion breaks away from God. If itbecomes as Sodom, it shares Sodom's fate.

It is remarkable that neither in the song of triumph nor in theprophecy of deliverance is there allusion to the destruction of theAssyrian army. How the exultant taunts of the one and the definitepromises of the other were to be fulfilled was not declared till theevent declared it. But faithful expectation had not long to wait, for'that night' the blow fell, and no second was needed. We are not toldwhere the Assyrian army was, but clearly it was not before Jerusalem.Nor do we learn what was the instrument of destruction wielded by the'angel of the Lord,' if there was any. The catastrophe may have beenbrought about by a pestilence, but however effected, it was 'the actof God,' the fulfilment of His promise, the making bare of His arm.'By terrible things in righteousness' did He answer the prayer ofHezekiah, and give to all humble souls who are oppressed and cry toHim a pledge that 'as they have heard, so' will they 'see, in the cityof' their 'God.' How much more impressive is the stern, naked brevityof the Scriptural account than a more emotional expansion of it, like,for instance, Byron's well-known, and in their way powerful lines,would have been! To the writer of this book it seemed the most naturalthing in the world that the foes of Zion should be annihilated by oneblow of the divine hand. His business is to tell the facts; he leavescommentary and wonder and triumph or terror to others.

There is but one touch of patriotic exultation apparent in thehalf-sarcastic and half-rejoicing accumulation of synonyms descriptiveof Sennacherib's retreat. He 'departed, and went and returned.' It islike the picture in Psalm xlviii., which probably refers to the sameevents: 'They saw it, and so they marvelled; they were troubled, andhasted away.'

About twenty years elapsed between Sennacherib's retreat and hisassassination. During all that time he 'dwelt at Nineveh,' so far asJudah was concerned. He had had enough of attacking it and its God.But the notice of his death is introduced here, not only to completethe narrative, but to point a lesson, which is suggested by the factthat he was murdered 'as he was worshipping in the house of Nisrochhis god.' Hezekiah had gone into the house of his God withSennacherib's letter, and the dead corpses of an army showed whatJehovah could do for His servant; Sennacherib was praying in thetemple of his god, and his corpse lay stretched before hisidol, an object lesson of the impotence of Nisroch and all his like tohear or help their worshippers.

THE REDISCOVERED LAW AND ITS EFFECTS

'And Hilkiah the high priest said unto Shaphan the scribe, I havefound the book of the law in the house of the Lord: and Hilkiah gavethe book to Shaphan, and he read it. 9. And Shaphan the scribe came tothe king, and brought the king word again, and said, Thy servants havegathered the money that was found in the house, and have delivered itinto the hand of them that do the work, that have the oversight of thehouse of the Lord. 10. And Shaphan the scribe shewed the king, saying,Hilkiah the priest hath delivered me a book: and Shaphan read itbefore the king. 11. And it came to pass, when the king had heard thewords of the book of the law, that he rent his clothes. 12. And theking commanded Hilkiah the priest, and Ahikam the son of Shaphan, andAchbor the son of Michaiah, and Shaphan the scribe, and Asahiah aservant of the king's, saying, 13. Go ye, enquire of the Lord for me,and for the people, and for all Judah, concerning the words of thisbook that is found: for great is the wrath of the Lord that is kindledagainst us, because our fathers have not hearkened unto the words ofthis book, to do according unto all that which is written concerningus. 14. So Hilkiah the priest, and Ahikam, and Achbor, and Shaphan,and Asahiah, went unto Huldah the prophetess, the wife of Shallum theson of Tikvah, the son of Harhas, keeper of the wardrobe; (now shedwelt in Jerusalem in the college;) and they communed with her. 15.And she said unto them, Thus saith the Lord God of Israel, Tell theman that sent you to me, 16. Thus saith the Lord, Behold, I will bringevil upon this place, and upon the inhabitants thereof, even all thewords of the book which the king of Judah hath read: 17. Because theyhave forsaken Me, and have burnt incense unto other gods, that theymight provoke Me to anger with all the works of their hands; thereforeMy wrath shall be kindled against this place, and shall not bequenched. 18. But to the king of Judah, which sent you to enquire ofthe Lord, thus shall ye say to him, Thus saith the Lord God of Israel,As touching the words which thou hast heard; 19. Because thine heartwas tender, and thou hast humbled thyself before the Lord, when thouheardest what I speak against this place, and against the inhabitantsthereof, that they should become a desolation and a curse, and hastrent thy clothes, and wept before Me; I also have heard thee, saiththe Lord. 20. Behold, therefore, I will gather thee unto thy fathers,and thou shalt be gathered into thy grave in peace; and thine eyesshall not see all the evil which I will bring upon this place. Andthey brought the king word again.'—2 KINGS xxii. 8-20.

We get but a glimpse into a wild time of revolution andcounter-revolution in the brief notice that the 'servants of Amon,'Josiah's father, conspired and murdered him in his palace, but werethemselves killed by a popular rising, in which the 'people of theland made Josiah his son king in his stead,' and so no doubt balkedthe conspirators' plans. Poor boy! he was only eight years old when hemade his first acquaintance with rebellion and bloodshed. There musthave been some wise heads and strong arms and loyal hearts round him,but their names have perished. The name of David was still a spell inJudah, and guarded his childish descendant's royal rights. In theeighteenth year of his reign, the twenty-sixth of his age, he felthimself firm enough in the saddle to begin a work of religiousreformation, and the first reward of his zeal was the finding of thebook of the law. Josiah, like the rest of us, gained fuller knowledgeof God's will in the act of trying to do it so far as he knew it.'Light is sown for the upright.'

I. We have, first, the discovery of the law. The important andcomplicated critical questions raised by the narrative cannot bediscussed here, nor do they affect the broad lines of teaching in theincident. Nothing is more truthful-like than the statement that, incourse of the repairs of the Temple, the book should befound,—probably in the holiest place, to which the high priest wouldhave exclusive access. How it came to have been lost is a morepuzzling question; but if we recall that seventy-five years had passedsince Hezekiah, and that these were almost entirely years of apostasyand of tumult, we shall not wonder that it was so. Unvalued thingseasily slip out of sight, and if the preservation of Scripturedepended on the estimation which some of us have of it, it would havebeen lost long ago. But the fact of the loss suggests the wonder ofthe preservation. It would appear that this copy was the only oneexisting,—at all events, the only one known. It alone transmitted thelaw to later days, like some slender thread of water that finds itsway through the sand and brings the river down to broad plains beyond.Think of the millions of copies now, and the one dusty, forgotten rolltossing unregarded in the dilapidated Temple, and be thankful for theProvidence that has watched over the transmission. Let us take care,too, that the whole Scripture is not as much lost to us, though wehave half a dozen Bibles each, as the roll was to Josiah and his men.

Hilkiah's announcement to Shaphan has a ring of wonder and of awe init. It sounds as if he had not known that such a book was anywhere inthe Temple. And it is noteworthy that not he, but Shaphan, is said tohave read it. Perhaps he could not,—though, if he did not, how did heknow what the book was? At all events, he and Shaphan seem to havefelt the importance of the find, and to have consulted what was to bedone. Observe how the latter goes cautiously to work, and at firstonly says that he has received 'a book.' He gives it no name, butleaves it to tell its own story,—which it was then, and is still,well able to do. Scripture is its own best credentials and witnesseswhence it comes. Again Shaphan is the reader, as it was natural that a'scribe' should be, and again the possibility is that Josiah could notread.

II. One can easily picture the scene while the reader's voice wentsteadily through the commandments, threatenings, and promises,—thedeepening eagerness of the king, the gradual shaping out before hisconscience of God's ideal for him and his people, and the gradualwaking of the sense of sin in him, like a dormant serpent beginning tostir in the first spring sunshine.

The effect of God's law on the sinful heart is vividly pictured inJosiah's emotion. 'By the law is the knowledge of sin.' To many of usthat law, in spite of our outward knowledge of it, is as completelyabsent from our consciousness as it had been from the most ignorant ofJosiah's subjects; and if for once its searchlight were thrown intothe hidden corners of our hearts and lives, it would show up indreadful clearness the skulking foes that are stealing to assail us,and the foul things that have made good their lodgment in our heartsand lives. It always makes an epoch in a life when it is reallybrought to the standard of God's law; and it is well for us if, likeJosiah, we rend our clothes, or rather 'our heart, and not ourgarments,' and take home the conviction, 'I have sinned against theLord.'

The dread of punishment sprang up in the young king's heart, andthough that emotion is not the highest motive for seeking the Lord, itis not an unworthy one, and is meant to lead on to nobler ones thanitself. There is too much unwillingness, in many modern conceptions ofChrist's gospel, to recognise the place which the apprehension ofpersonal evil consequences from sin has in the initial stages of theprocess by which we are 'translated from the kingdom of darkness intothat of God's dear Son.'

III. The message to Huldah is remarkable. The persons sent with itshow its importance. The high priest, the royal secretary, and one ofthe king's personal attendants, who was, no doubt, in his confidence,and two other influential men, one of whom, Ahikam, is known asJeremiah's staunch friend, would make some stir in 'the secondquarter,' on their way to the modest house of the keeper of thewardrobe. The weight and number of the deputation did honour to theprophetess, as well as showed the king's anxiety as to the matter inhand. Jeremiah and Zephaniah were both living at this time, and we donot know why Huldah was preferred. Perhaps she was more accessible.But conjecture is idle. Enough that she was recognised as having, anddeclared herself to have, direct authoritative communications fromGod.

For what did Josiah need to inquire of the Lord 'concerning the wordsof this book'? They were plain enough. Did he hope to have theirsternness somewhat mollified by the words of a prophetess who might bemore amenable to entreaties or personal considerations than theunalterable page was? Evidently he recognised Huldah as speaking withdivine authority, and he might have known that two depositories ofGod's voice could not contradict each other. But possibly his embassysimply reflected his extreme perturbation and alarm, and like manyanother man when God's law startles him into consciousness of sin, hebetook himself to one who was supposed to be in God's counsels, halfhoping for a mitigated sentence, and half uncertain of what he reallywished. He confusedly groped for some support or guide. But, confusedas he was, his message to the prophetess implied repentance, eagerdesire to know what to do, and humble docility. If dread of evilconsequences leads us to such a temper, we shall hear, as Josiah did,answers of peace as authoritative and divine as were the threateningsthat brought us to our senses and our knees.

IV. The answer which Josiah received falls into two parts, the formerof which confirms the threatenings of evil to Jerusalem, while thelatter casts a gleam athwart the thundercloud, and promises Josiahescape from the national calamities. Observe the difference in thedesignation given him in the two parts. When the threatenings areconfirmed, his individuality is, as it were, sunk; for that part ofthe message applies to any and every member of the nation, andtherefore he is simply called 'the man that sent you.' Any other manwould have received the same answer. But when his own fate is to bedisclosed, then he is 'the king of Judah, who sent you,' and isdescribed by the official position which set him apart from hissubjects.

Huldah has but to confirm the dread predictions of evil which the rollhad contained. What else can a faithful messenger of God do thanreiterate its threatenings? Vainly do men seek to induce the livingprophet to soften down God's own warnings. Foolishly do they thinkthat the messenger or the messenger's Sender has any 'pleasure in thedeath of the wicked'; and as foolishly do they take the message to beunkind, for surely to warn that destruction waits the evildoer isgracious. The signal-man who waves the red flag to stop the trainrushing to ruin is a friend. Huldah was serving Judah best by plainreiteration of the 'words of the book.'

But the second half of her message told that in wrath God rememberedmercy. And that is for ever true. His thunderbolts do not strikeindiscriminately, even when they smite a nation. Judah's corruptionhad gone too far for recovery, and the carcase called for thegathering together of the vultures, but Josiah's penitence was not invain. 'I have heard thee' is always said to the true penitent, andeven if he is involved in widespread retribution, its strokes becomedifferent to him. Josiah was assured that the evil should not come inhis days. But Huldah's promise seems contradicted by the circ*mstancesof his death. It was a strange kind of being gathered to his grave inpeace when he fell on the fatal field of Megiddo, and 'his servantscarried him in a chariot dead, … and buried him in his ownsepulchre' (2 Kings xxiii. 30). But the promise is fulfilled in itsreal meaning by the fact that the threatenings which he was inquiringabout did not fall on Judah in his time, and so far as these wereconcerned, he did come to his grave in peace.

THE END

'1. And it came to pass in the ninth year of his reign, in the tenthmonth, in the tenth day of the month, that Nebuchadnezzar king ofBabylon came, he, and all his host, against Jerusalem, and pitchedagainst it; and they built forts against it round about. 2. And thecity was besieged unto the eleventh year of king Zedekiah. 3. And onthe ninth day of the fourth month the famine prevailed in the city,and there was no bread for the people of the land. 4. And the city wasbroken up, and all the men of war fled by night by the way of thegate, between two walls, which is by the king's garden; (now theChaldees were against the city round about;) and the king went the waytoward the plain. 5. And the army of the Chaldees pursued after theking, and overtook him in the plains of Jericho: and all his army werescattered from him. 6. So they took the king, and brought him up tothe king of Babylon to Riblah; and they gave judgment upon him. 7. Andthey slew the sons of Zedekiah before his eyes, and put out the eyesof Zedekiah, and bound him with fetters of brass, and carried him toBabylon. 8. And in the fifth month, on the seventh day of the month,which is the nineteenth year of king Nebuchadnezzar king of Babylon,came Nebuzar-adan, captain of the guard, a servant of the king ofBabylon, unto Jerusalem: 9. And he burnt the house of the Lord, andthe king's house, and all the houses of Jerusalem, and every greatman's house burnt he with fire. 10. And all the army of the Chaldees,that were with the captain of the guard, brake down the walls ofJerusalem round about. 11. Now the rest of the people that were leftin the city, and the fugitives that fell away to the king of Babylon,with the remnant of the multitude, did Nebuzar-adan, the captain ofthe guard, carry away. 12. But the captain of the guard left of thepoor of the land to be vine-dressers and husbandmen.'—2 KINGS xxv.1-12.

Eighteen months of long-drawn-out misery and daily increasing faminepreceded the fall of the doomed city. The siege was a blockade. Noassaults by the enemy, nor sorties by the inhabitants, are narrated,but the former grimly and watchfully drew their net closer, and thelatter sat still in their despair. The passionless tone of thenarrative here is very remarkable. Not a word escapes the writer toshow his feelings, though he is telling his country's fall. We mustturn to Lamentations for sighs and groans. There we have the emotionsof devout hearts; here we have the calm record of God's judgment. Itis all one long sentence, for in the Hebrew each verse begins with'and,' clause heaped on clause, as if each were a footstep of thedestroying angel in his slow, irresistible march.

The narrative falls into two principal parts—the fate of the king andthat of the city. It is unnecessary to dwell on the details. Theconfusion of counsels, the party strife, the fierce hatred of God'sprophet, the agony of famine, are all suppressed here, but paintedwith terrible vividness in the Book of Jeremiah. At last the fatal daycame. On the north side a breach was made in the wall, and through itthe fierce besiegers poured—the 'princes of the king of Babylon,'with their idolatrous and barbarous names, 'came in, and sat in themiddle gate.' It was night. The sudden appearance of the conquerors inthe heart of the city shot panic into the feeble king and his 'men ofwar' who had never struck one blow for deliverance; and they hurriedunder cover of darkness, and hidden between two walls, down the ravineto the king's garden, once the scene of pleasure, but waste now, andthence, as best they could, round or over Olivet to the road toJericho. The king's flight by night had been foretold by Ezekiel faraway in captivity (Ezek. xii. 12); and the same prophet received onthat very day a divine message announcing the fall of the city, andbidding him 'write thee the name of the day, even of this selfsameday,' as that on which the king of Babylon 'drew close unto Jerusalem'(Ezek. xxiv. 1 et seq.).

Down the rocky road went the flying host, with 'their shaftless,broken bows' closely followed by the avenging foe with 'red pursuingspear.' Where Israel had first set foot on its inheritance, the lastking of David's line was captured and his monarchy shattered. Thescene of the first victory, when Jericho fell before unarmed mentrusting in God, was the scene of the last defeat. The spot where thecovenant was renewed, and the reproach of Israel rolled away, was thespot where the broken covenant was finally avenged and abrogated. Theend came back to the beginning, and the cradle was the coffin.

Away up to Riblah, in the far north, under the shadow of Lebanon, thecaptive was dragged to meet the conqueror. The name of each is aprofession of belief. The one means 'Jehovah is righteousness'; theother, 'Nebo, protect the crown.' The idol seemed to have overcome,but the defeat of the unbelieving confessor of the true God at thehands of the idolater is really the victory of the righteousness whichthe name celebrated and the bearer of the name insulted. His murderedsons were the last sight which he saw before he was blinded, accordingto the ferocious practice of the East. It was ingenuity of cruelty tolet him see for so long, and then to give him that as the last thingseen, and therefore often remembered. Note how the enigma of Ezekiel'sprophecy (Ezek. xii. 13) and its apparent contradiction of Jeremiah's(Jer. xxxii. 4; xxxiv. 3) are reconciled, and learn how easily thefact, when it comes, clears the riddles of prophecy, and how easily,probably, the whole facts, if we knew them, would clear thedifficulties of Scripture history. The blinded king was harmless, butaccording to Jewish tradition, was set to work in a mill (though thatis probably only an application of Samson's story), and according toJeremiah (Jer. lii. 11), was kept in prison till his death. So endedthe monarchy of Judah.

The fate of the city was not settled for a month, during which, nodoubt, there was much consultation at Riblah whether to garrison ordestroy it. The king of Babylon did not go in person, but despatched aforce commanded by a high officer, to burn palace, Temple, the moreimportant houses (the poorer people would probably be lodged in hutsnot worth burning), and to raze the fortifications. In accordance withthe practice of the great Eastern despotisms, deportation followedvictory—a clever though cruel device for securing conquests. But somewere left behind; for the land, if deserted, would have fallen out ofcultivation, and been profitless to Babylon. The bulk of the people ofJerusalem, the fugitives who had joined the invaders during the siege,and the mass of the general population, were carried off, in such along string of misery as we may still see on the monuments, and ahandful left behind, too poor to plot, and stirred to diligence bynecessity. So ended the possession by Israel of its promisedinheritance.

Now this fall of Jerusalem is like an object-lesson to teacheverlasting truth as to the retributive providence of God. What doesit say?

It declares plainly what brings down God's judgments. The terms onwhich Israel prospered and held its land were obedience to God's law.We cannot directly apply the principles of God's government of it tomodern nations. The present analogue of Israel is the Church, not thenation. But when all deductions have been made, it is still true thata nation's religious attitude is a most potent factor in itsprosperous development. It is not accidental that, on the whole,stagnant Europe and America are Roman Catholic, and the progressiveparts Protestant. Nor was it causes independent of religion thatscattered a decaying Christianity in the lands of the Eastern Churchbefore the onslaught of wild Arabs, who, at all events, did believe inAllah. So there are abundant lessons for politics and sociology in thestory of Jerusalem's fall.

But these lessons have direct application to the individual and to theChristian Church. All departure from God is ruin. We slay ourselves byforsaking Him, and every sinner is a suicide. We live under a moralgovernment, and in a system of things so knit together as that evenhere every transgression receives its just recompense—if not visiblyand palpably in outward circ*mstances, yet really and punctually ineffects on mind and heart, which are more solemn and awful. 'Beholdthe righteous shall be recompensed in the earth: much more the wickedand the sinner.' Sin and sorrow are root and fruit.

Especially does that crash of Jerusalem's fall thunder the lesson toall churches that their life and prosperity are inseparably connectedwith faithful obedience and turning away from all worldliness, whichis idolatry. They stand in the place that was made empty by Israel'slater fall. Our very privileges call us to beware. 'Because ofunbelief they were broken off, and thou standest by faith.' That greatseven-branched candlestick was removed out of its place, and all thatis left of it is its sculptured image among the spoils on thetriumphal arch to its captor. Other lesser candlesticks have beenremoved from their places, and Turkish oppression brings night whereSardis and Laodicea once gave a feeble light. The warning is neededto-day; for worldliness is rampant in the Church. 'If God spared notthe natural branches, take heed lest He also spare not thee.' The fallof Jerusalem is not merely a tragic story from the past. It is arevelation, for the present, of the everlasting truth, that theprofessing people of God deserve and receive the sorest chastisem*nt,if they turn again to folly.

Further, we learn the method of present retribution. Nebuchadnezzarknew nothing of the purposes which he fulfilled. 'He meaneth not so,neither doth his heart think so.' He was but the 'axe' with which Godhewed. Therefore, though he was God's tool, he was also responsible,and would be punished even for performing God's 'whole work uponJerusalem,' because of 'the glory of his high looks.' The retributionof disobedience, so far as that retribution is outward, needs no'miracle.' The ordinary operations of Providence amply suffice tobring it. If God wills to sting, He will 'hiss for the fly,' and itwill come. The ferocity and ambition of a grim and bloody despot,impelled by vainglory and lust of cruel conquest, do God's work, andyet the doing is sin. The world is full of God's instruments, and Hesends punishments by the ordinary play of motives and circ*mstances,which we best understand when we see behind all His mighty hand andsovereign will. The short-sighted view of history says 'Nebuchadnezzarcaptured Jerusalem B.C. so and so,' and then discourses about thetendencies of which Babylonia was exponent and creature. The deeperview says, God smote the disobedient city, as He had said, andNebuchadnezzar was 'the rod of His anger.'

Again, we learn the Divine reluctance to smite. More than four hundredyears had passed since Solomon began idolatry, and steadily, throughall that time, a stream of prophecy of varying force and width hadflowed, while smaller disasters had confirmed the prophets' voices.'Rising up early and sending' his servants, God had been in earnest inseeking to save Israel from itself. Men said then, 'Where is thepromise of His coming?' and mocked His warnings and would none of Hisreproof; but at last the hour struck and the crash came. 'As a dreamwhen one awaketh; so, O Lord! when Thou awakest, Thou shalt despisetheir image.' His judgment seems to slumber, but its eyes are open,and it remains inactive, that His long-suffering may have free scope.As long as His gaze can discern the possibility of repentance, He willnot strike; and when that is hopeless, He will not delay. Theexplanation of the marvellous tolerance of evil which sometimes triesfaith and always evokes wonder, lies in the great words, which mightwell be written over the chair of every teacher of history: 'The Lordis not slack concerning His promise, as some men count slackness; butis long-suffering to us-ward.' Alas, that that divine patience shouldever be twisted into the ground of indurated disobedience! 'Becausesentence against an evil work is not executed speedily, therefore theheart of the sons of men is fully set in them to do evil.'

God's reluctance to punish is no reason for doubting that He will.Judgment is His 'strange work,' less congenial, if we may soparaphrase that strong word of the prophet's, than pure mercy, but itwill be done nevertheless. The tears over Jerusalem that witnessedChrist's sorrow did not blind the eyes like a flame of fire, nor staythe outstretched hand of the Judge, when the time of her final fallcame. The longer the delay, the worse the ruin. The more protractedthe respite and the fuller it has been of entreaties to return, themore terrible the punishment. 'Behold, therefore, the goodness andseverity of God: towards them which fell, severity; but toward thee,goodness, if thou continue in His goodness: otherwise thou also shaltbe cut off.'

THE FIRST BOOK OF CHRONICLES

THE KING'S POTTERS

'There they dwelt with the king for his work.'—1 CHRON. iv. 23.

In these dry lists of names which abound in Chronicles, we now andthen come across points of interest, oases in the desert, which needbut to be pondered sympathetically to yield interesting suggestions.Here for example, buried in a dreary genealogical table, is a littletouch which repays meditating on. Among the members of the tribe ofJudah were a hereditary caste of potters who lived in 'Netaim andGederah,' if we adhere to the Revised Version's text, or 'amongplantations and hedges' if we prefer the margin. But they are alsodescribed as dwelling 'with the king.' That can only mean on the royalestates, for the king himself resided in Jerusalem. He, however, heldlarge domains in the territory of Judah, on some of which theseceramic artists were settled down and followed their calling. Theywere kept on the royal estates and kept in comfort, not needing totill, but fed and cared for, that they might be free to mould, out ofcommon clay, forms of beauty and 'vessels meet for the master's use.'Surely we may read into the brief statement of the text a meaning ofwhich the writer of it never dreamt, and see in the description ofthese forgotten artisans, a symbol of our Christian relations to ourLord and of our life's work.

I. We, too, dwell with the King.

The Davidic king was in Jerusalem, and the potters were 'amongplantations and hedges,' yet in a real sense they 'dwelt with theking,' though some of them might never have seen his face or trod thestreets of the sacred city. Perhaps now and then he came to visit themon his outlying domains, but they were always parts of his household.And have we, Christ's servants, not His gracious parting word: 'I amwith you always'? True, we are not beside Him in the great city, butHe is beside us in His outlying domains, and we may be with Him in Hisglory, if while we still outwardly live among the 'plantations andhedges' of this life, we dwell in spirit, by faith and aspiration,with our risen and ascended Lord. If we so 'dwell with the King,' Hewill dwell with us, and fill our humble abode with the radiance of Hispresence, 'making that place of His feet glorious.' That He should bewith us is supreme condescension, that we should be with Him is theperfection of exaltation. How low He stoops, how high we can rise! Thevigour of our Christian life largely depends on our keeping vivid theconsciousness of our communion with Jesus and the sense of His realpresence with us. How life's burdens would be lightened if we facedthem all in the strength of the felt nearness of our Lord! Howimpossible it would be that we should ever feel the dreary sense ofsolitude, if we felt that unseen, but most real, Presence wrapping usround! It is only when our faith in it has fallen asleep that anyearthly good allures, or any earthly evil frightens us. To be sure, inour thrilling consciousness, that we dwell with Jesus is animpenetrable cuirass that blunts the points of all arrows and keepsthe breast that wears it unwounded in the fray. The world has novoices which can make themselves heard above that low sovereignwhisper: 'I am with you always, even to the end of the world'—andafter the end has come, then we shall be with Him.

But we find in this notice a hint that leads us in yet anotherdirection. They 'dwelt with the king' in the sense that they werehoused and cared for on his lands. And in like manner, the trueconception of the Christian life is that each of us is 'a sojournerwith Thee,' set down on Christ's domains, and looked after by Him inregard to provision for outward wants. We have nothing in property,but all is His and held by His gift and to be used for Him. The slaveowns nothing. The patch of ground which he cultivates for his food andwhat grows on it, are his master's. These workmen were not slaves, butthey were not owners either. And we hold nothing as our own, if we aretrue to the terms on which it is given us to hold.

So if we rightly appreciate our position as dwelling on the King'slands, our delusion of possession will vanish, and we shall feel morekeenly the pressure of responsibility while we feel less keenly thegrip of anxiety. We are for the time being entrusted with a tiny pieceof the royal estates. Let us not strut about as if we were owners, norbe for ever afraid that we shall not have enough for our needs. Onesometimes comes on a model village close to the gates of some ducalpalace, and notes how the lordly owner's honour prompts its being keptup to a high standard of comfort and beauty. We may be sure that thepotters were well lodged and looked after, and that care for theirpersonal wants was shifted from their shoulders to the king's. Soshould ours be. He will not leave His servants to starve. They shouldnot dishonour Him and disturb themselves by worries and cares thatwould be reasonable only if they had no Provider. He has said, 'Allthings are given to Me of My Father,' and He gives us all that God hasgiven Him.

II. We dwell with the King for His work.

The king's potters had not to till the land nor do any work but tomould clay into vessels for use and beauty. For that purpose they hadtheir huts and bits of ground assigned them. So with us, Christ has apurpose in His provision for us. We are set down on His domains, andwe enjoy His presence and providing in order that, set free fromcarking cares and low ends, we may, with free and joyous hearts, yieldourselves to His joyful service. The law of our life should be that weplease not ourselves, nor consult our own will in choosing our tasks,nor seek our own profit or gratification in doing them, but ever askof Him: 'Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?' and when the answercomes, as come it will to all who ask with real desire to learn andwith real inclination to do His will, that we 'make haste and delaynot, but make haste to keep His commandments.' The spirit which shouldanimate our active lives is plainly enough taught us in that littleword, they 'dwelt with the king for his work.'

Nor are we to forget that, in a very profound sense, dwelling with theKing must go before doing His work. Unless we are living continuallyunder the operation of the stimulus of communion with Jesus, we shallhave neither quickness of ear to know what He wishes us to do, nor anyresolute concentration of ourselves on our Christ-appointed tasks. Thespring of all noble living is communion with noble ideals, andfellowship with Jesus sets men agoing, as nothing else will, inpractical lives of obedience to Jesus. Time given to silent, retiredmeditation on that sweet, sacred bond that knits the believing soul tothe redeeming Lord is not lost with reference to active work forJesus. The meditative and the practical life are not antagonistic, butcomplementary, Mary and Martha are sisters, though sometimes theydiffer, and foolish people try to set them against each other.

But we must beware of a common misconception of what the King's workis. The royal potters did not make only things of beauty, but verycommon vessels designed for common and ignoble uses. There werevessels of dishonour dried in their kilns as well as vessels 'meet forthe master's use.' There is a usual and lamentable narrowing of theterm 'Christian work,' to certain conventional forms of service, whichhas done and is doing an immense amount of harm. The King's work isfar wider in scope than teaching in Sunday-schools, or visiting thesick, or any similar acts that are usually labelled with the name. Itcovers all the common duties of life. A shallow religion tickets someselected items with the name; a robuster, truer conception extends thedesignation to everything. It is not only when we are definitelytrying to bring others into touch with Jesus that we are doing Himservice, but we may be equally serving Him in everything. Thedifference between the king's work and the poor potters' own lay notso much in the nature as in the motive of it, and whatever we do forChrist's sake and with a view to His will is work that He owns, whilea regard to self in our motive or in our end decisively strikes anyservice tainted by it out of the category.

We are to hallow all our deeds by drawing the motive for them from theKing and by laying the fruits of them at His feet. Thus, and onlythus, will the most 'secular' actions be sanctified and the narrowestlife be widened to contain a present Christ.

There are subsidiary motives which may legitimately blend with thesupreme one. The potters would be stimulated to work hard and withtheir utmost skill when they thought of how well they were paid inhouse and store for their work. We have ample reasons for dedicatingour whole selves to Jesus when we think of His gift of Himself to us,of His wages beforehand, of His joyful presence with His eye ever onus, marking our purity of motive and our diligence.

There is a final thought that may well stimulate us to put all ourskill and effort into our work. The potters' work went to Jerusalem.It was for the king. What can be too good for him? He will see it,therefore let us put our best into it. And we shall see it too, whenwe too enter 'the city of the great King.' Jars that perhaps werewrought by these very workmen of whom we have been speaking turn upto-day in the excavations in Palestine. So much has perished and theyremain, speaking symbols of the solemn truth that nothing human everdies. Our 'works do follow us.' Let us so live that these may be'found unto praise and honour and glory' at the appearing of 'theKing.'

DAVID'S CHORISTERS

'They stood in their office, according to their order.'—1 CHRON. vi.32 (R.V. margin).

This brief note is buried in the catalogue of the singers appointed byDavid for 'the service of song in the house of the Lord.' The waves oftheir choral praise have long ages since ceased to eddy round the'tabernacle of the tent of meeting,' and all that is left of theirmelodious companies is a dry list of names, in spite of which the deadowners of them are nameless. But the chronicler's description of themmay carry some lessons for us, for is not the Church of Christ achoir, chosen to 'shew forth the praises of Him who has called us outof darkness into His marvellous light'? We take a permissible libertywith this fragment, when we use it to point lessons that may help thatgreat band of choristers who are charged with the office of making thename of Jesus ring through the world. Now, in making such a use of thetext, we may linger on each important word in it and find eachfruitful in suggestions which we shall be the better for expanding inour own meditations.

We pause on the first word, which is rendered in the Authorised andRevised Versions 'waited,' and in the margin of the latter 'stood.'The former rendering brings into prominence the mental attitude withwhich the singers held themselves ready to take their turns in theservice, the latter points rather to their bodily attitude as theyfulfilled their office. We get a picture of the ranked files gatheredround their three leaders, Heman, Asaph, and Ethan. These three namesare familiar to us from the Psalter, but how all the ranks behind themhave fallen dim to us, and how their song has floated into inaudibledistance! They 'stood,' a melodious multitude, girt and attent ontheir song, or waiting their turn to fill the else silent air with thehigh praises of Jehovah, and glad when it came to their turn to opentheir lips in full-throated melody.

Now may we not catch the spirit of that long vanished chorus, and findin the two possible renderings of this word a twofold example, thefaithful following of which would put new vigour into our service? Weare called to a loftier office, and have heavenly harmonies entrustedto us to be made vocal by our lips, compared with which theirs werepoor. 'They waited on' their office, and shall not we, in a higherfashion, wait on our ministry, and suffer no inferior claims to blockour way or hamper our preparedness to discharge it? To let ourselvesbe entangled with 'the affairs of this life,' or to 'drowse in idlecell,' sleepily letting summonses that should wake us to work soundunheeded and almost unheard, is flagrant despite done to our highvocation as Christians. 'They also serve who only stand and wait,' butnot if in their waiting their eyes are straying everywhere but totheir Master's pointing hand or directing eye. The world is full ofvoices calling Christ's folk to help; but what a host of so-calledChristians fail to hear these piteous and despairing cries, becausethe noise of their own whims, fancies, and self-centred desires keepsbuzzing in their ears. A constant accompaniment of deafness isconstant noises in the head; and the Christians who are hardest ofhearing when Christ calls are generally afflicted with noises whichare probably the cause, and not merely an accompaniment, of theirdeafness. For indeed it demands no little detachment of spirit fromself and sense, from the world and its clamant suitors, if a Christiansoul is to be ready to mark the first signal of the great Conductor'sbaton, and to answer the lightest whisper, intrusting it with a taskfor Him, with its self-consecrating 'Here am I. Send me.'

It used to be said that they who watched for providences never wantedprovidences to watch for; it is equally true that they who are on thewatch for opportunities for service never fail to find them, and thatears pricked to 'hear what God the Lord shall speak,' summoning towork for Him, will not listen in vain. Paul saw in a vision 'aman of Macedonia' begging for his help, and 'straightway' heconcluded that 'God had called' him to preach in Europe. Happyare these Christian workers who hear God's voice speaking throughmen's needs, and recognise a divine imperative in human cries!

May we not see in the attitude of David's choristers as they sang,hints for our own discharge of the tasks of our Christian service?There was a curse of old on him who did the work of the Lord'negligently,' and its weight falls still on workers and work. For whocan measure the harm done to the Christian life of the negligentworker, and who can expect any blessing to come either to him or toothers from such half-hearted seeming service? The devil's kingdom isnot to be cast down nor Christ's to be builded up by workers who putless than their whole selves, the entire weight of their bodies, intotheir toil. A pavior on the street brings down his rammer at everystroke with an accompanying exclamation expressing effort, and thereis no place in Christ's service for dainty people who will not sweatat their task, and are in mortal fear of over-work. Strenuousness, thegathering together of all our powers, are implied in the attitude ofHeman and his band as they 'stood' in their office. Idle revellersmight loll on their rose-strewn couches as they 'sing idle songs tothe sound of the viol and devise for themselves instruments of music,like David,' but the austerer choir of the Temple despised ease, andstood ready for service and in the best bodily posture for song.

The second important word of the text brings other thoughts no lessvaluable and rich in practical counsel. The singers in the Templestood in their 'office,' which was song. Their special work waspraise. And that is the highest task of the Church. As a matter offact, every period of quickened earnestness in the Church's life hasbeen a period marked by a great outburst of Christian song. Allintense emotion seeks expression in poetry, and music is the naturalspeech of a vivid faith. Luther chanted the Marseillaise of theReformation, 'A safe stronghold our God is still,' and many anothersweet strain blended strangely with the fiery and sometimes savagewords from his lips. The Scottish Reformation, grim in some of itsfeatures as it was, had yet its 'Gude and Godly Ballads.' At the birthof Methodism, as round the cradle at Bethlehem, hovered as it wereangel voices singing, 'Glory to God in the highest.' A flock ofsinging birds let loose attends every revival of Christian life.

The Church's praise is the noblest expression of the Church's life.Its hymns go deeper than its creeds, touch hearts more to the quick,minister to the faith which they enshrine, and often draw others tosee the preciousness of the Christ whom they celebrate. How little weshould have known of Old Testament religion, notwithstanding law andprophets, if the Psalter had perished!

And it is true, in a very deep sense, that we shall do more for Christand men by voicing our own deep thankfulness for His great gifts andspeaking simply our valuation of, and our thankfulness for, what wedraw from Him than by any other form of so-called Christian work. Wecan offend none by saying: 'We have found the Messias,' and areadoringly glad that we have. The most effectual way of moving othersouls to participate in our joy is to let our joy speak. 'If you wishme to weep,' your own tears must not be held back, and if you wishothers to know the preciousness of Christ, you must ring out His namewith fervour of emotion and the triumphant confidence. We are the'secretaries of God's praise,' as George Herbert has it, for we havepossession of His greatest gift, and have learned to know Him inloftier fashion than Heman's choristers dreamed of, having seen 'theglory of God in the face of Jesus Christ,' and tasted the sweetness ofredeeming love. The Apocalyptic seer sets forth a great truth when hetells us that he first heard a new song from the lips of therepresentatives of the Church, who could sing, 'Thou wast slain anddidst redeem us to God with Thy blood,' and then heard their adorationechoed from 'many angels round about the throne,' and finally heardthe song reverberated from every created thing in heaven and earth, inthe sea and all deep places. A praising Church has experiences of itsown which angels cannot share, and it sets in motion the great sea ofpraise whose surges break in music and roll from every side of theuniverse in melodious thunder to the great white throne. Without oursong even angel voices would lack somewhat.

'God said, "A praise is in Mine ear;
There is no doubt in it, no fear:
Clearer loves sound other ways:
I miss My little human praise."'

The song of the redeemed has in it a minor strain that gives asweetness far more poignant than belongs to those who cannot say: 'Outof the depths I cried unto Thee.' 'The sweetest songs are those whichtell of saddest thought,' and recount experiences of conquered sin andlife springing from death.

But it is also true that no kind of Christian service will beeffectual, if it lacks the element of grateful praise as its motiveand mainspring. Perhaps there would be fewer complaints of toiling allnight and wearily hauling in empty nets, if the nets were oftener letdown not only 'at Thy word' but with glad remembrance of thefishermen's debt to Jesus, and in the spirit of praise. When all ourwork is a sacrifice of praise, it is pleasing to God and profitable toourselves and to others. If we would oftener bethink ourselves, andherald every deed with a silent dedication of it and of ourselves toHim who died for us, we should less often have to complain that wehave sowed much and brought back little. A pinch of incense cast intothe common domestic fire makes its flame sacrificial and fragrant.

The last important word of the text is also fertile in hints for us.The singers stood in their office 'according to their order.' Thatlast expression may either refer to rotation of service or todistribution of parts in the chorus. They did not sing in unison,grand as the effect of such a song from a multitude sometimes is, butthey had their several parts. The harmonious complexity of a greatchorus is the ideal for the Church. Paul puts the same thought in asterner metaphor when he tells the Colossian Christians that he joys'beholding your order and the steadfastness of your faith in Christ,'where he is evidently thinking of the Roman legion with its rigiddiscipline and its solid, irresistible, ranked weight. Division offunction and consequent concordant action of different parts is thelesson taught by both metaphors, and by the many modern examples ofthe immense results gained in machinery that almost simulates vitalaction, and by organisations for great purposes in which men combine.The Church should be the highest example of such combination, for itis the shrine of the noblest life, even the life of its indwellingLord. Every member of it should have and know his place. EveryChristian should know his part in the great chorus, for he has a part,even if it is only that of tinkling the triangle in the orchestra orbeating a drum. That division of function and concordance of actionapply to all forms of the Church's action, and are enforced mostchiefly by the great Apostolic metaphor of the body and its members.Paul did not delight in 'uniformity.' Inferiors calling themselves hissuccessors have often aimed at enforcing it, but nature has been toostrong for them, and the hedge will grow its own way in spite ofpedants' shears. 'If the whole body were an eye, where the hearing?'The monotony of a church in which uniformity was the ideal would beintolerable. The chorus has its parts, and the soprano cannot say tothe bass, 'I have no need of you,' nor the bass to the tenor, 'I haveno need of thee.'

So let us see that we find our own place, and see that we fill it,singing our own part lustily, and not being either confused or madedumb because another has other notes to sing than are written on ourscore. Let us recognise unity made more melodious by diversity, theimportance of the humblest, and 'having gifts differing according tothe grace given unto us let us wait on our ministry,' and stand in ouroffice according to our order.

DRILL AND ENTHUSIASM

'[Men that] could keep rank, they were not of double heart.'—1 CHRON.xii. 33.

These words come from the muster-roll of the hastily raised army thatbrought David up to Hebron and made him King. The catalogue abounds inbrief characterisations of the qualities of each tribe's contingent.For example, Issachar had 'understanding of the times.' Our text isspoken of the warriors of Zebulon, who had left their hills and theirflocks in the far north, and poured down from their seats by the bluewaters of Tiberias to gather round their king. They were not only liketheir brethren expert in war and fully equipped, but they had somemeasure of discipline too, a rare thing in the days when there were nostanding armies. They 'could keep rank,' could march together, hadbeen drilled to some unanimity of step and action, could work andfight together, were an army, not a crowd, and not only so, but also'they were not of double heart.' Each man, and the whole body, had abrave single resolve; they had one spirit animating the whole, andthat was to make David king, an enthusiastic loyalty which made thembrave, and a discipline which kept the courage from running to waste.

I take, then, this text as bringing before us two very importantcharacteristics which ought to be found in every Christian church, andwithout which no real prosperity and growth is possible. These two maybe put very briefly: organisation and enthusiastic devotion. These areboth important, but in very different degrees. Organisation withoutvalour is in a worse plight than valour without organisation. The oneis fundamental, the other secondary. The one is the true cause, so faras men are concerned, of victory, the other is but the instrument bywhich the cause works. There have been many victories won byundisciplined valour, but disciplined cowardice and apathy come to nogood.

These two have been separated and made antagonistic, and churches areto be found which glory in the one, and others in the other. Some havegone in for order, and are like butterflies in a cabinet all ticketedand displayed in place, but a pin is run through their bodies and theyare dead; and others have prided themselves on unfettered freedom, andbeen not an army, but a mob. The true relation, of course, is thatlife should shape and inform organisation, and organisation shouldpreserve, manifest and obey life. There must be body to hold spirit,there must be spirit to keep body from rotting.

I. Organisation.

This is not the strong point of Nonconformist churches. We prideourselves on our individualism, and that is all very well. We believein direct access of each soul to Christ, that men must come to Him oneby one, that religion is purely a personal matter, and the firmnesswith which we hold this tends to make us weak in combined action. Itcannot be truthfully denied that both in the relations of our churchesto one another, and in the internal organisation of these, we are andhave been too loosely compacted, and have forgotten that two is morethan one plus one, so that we are only helping to redress thebalance a little when we insist upon the importance of organisation inour churches.

And first of all—remember the principles in subordination to whichour organisation must be framed.

What are we united by? Common love and faith to Christ, or ratherChrist Himself. 'One is your Master, even Christ, and all ye arebrethren.' So there must be nothing in our organisation which isinconsistent with Christ's supreme place among us, and with ourindividual obedience to Him. There are to be no 'lords over God'sheritage' in the Church of Christ. There are churches in which thetemptation to be such affects the official chiefly, and there areothers, with a different polity, in which it is chiefly a Diotrephes,who loves to have pre-eminence. Character, zeal, social station, evenwealth will always confer a certain influence, and their possessorswill be tempted to set up their own will or opinions as dominant inthe Church. Such men are sinning against the very bond of Christianunion. Organisation which is bought by investing one man withauthority, is too dearly purchased at the cost of individualdevelopment on the individual's own lines. A row of clipped yew-treesis not an inspiring sight.

And yet again what are we organised for? Not merely for our own growthor spiritual advantage, but also, and more especially, for spreadingfaith in Christ and advancing His glory. All our organisation, then,is but an arrangement for doing our work, and if it hinders that, itis cumbrous and must be cut away or modified, at all hazards.Ecclesiastical martinets are still to be found, to whom drill isall-important, and who see no use in irregular valour, but they are adiminishing number, and they may be recommended to ponder the old wisesaying: 'Where no oxen are, the crib is clean, but much increase is bythe strength of the ox.' If the one aim is a 'clean crib' the best wayto secure that is to keep it empty; but if a harvest is the aim, theremust be cultivation, and one must accept the consequences of having astrong team to plough. The end of drill is fighting. The parade-groundand its exercising is in order that a corps may be hurled against theenemy, or may stand unmoved, like a solid breakwater against a chargewhich it flings off in idle spray, and the end of the Church'sorganisation is that it may move en masse, without waste,against the enemy.

But a further guiding principle to shape Christian organisation isthat of the Church as the body of Christ. That requires that thereshall be work for every member. Christ has endowed His members withvarying gifts, powers, opportunities, and has set them in diversecirc*mstances, that each may give his own contribution to the generalstock of work. Our theory is that each man has his own proper giftfrom God, 'one after this manner, and another after that.' But what isour practice? Take any congregation of Christian people in any of ourchurches, and especially in the Free Churches of which I know most,and is there anything like this wide diversity of forms of service, towhich each contributes? A handful of people do all the work, and theremainder are idlers. The same small section are in evidence always,and the rest are nowhere. There are but a few bits of coloured glassin a kaleidoscope, they take different patterns when the tube isturned, but they are always the same bits of glass.

There needs to be a far greater variety of forms of work for ourpeople and more workers in the field. There are too few wheels for thequantity of water in the river, and, partly for that reason, theamount of water that runs waste over the sluice is deplorable. Thereis a danger in having too many spindles for the power available, butthe danger in modern church organisation is exactly the other way.

Every one should have his own work. In all living creatures,differentiation of organs increases as the creature rises in the scaleof being, from the simple sac which does everything up to the humanbody with a distinct function for every finger. It should not bepossible for a lazy Christian to plead truly as his vindication that'no man had hired' him. It should be the Church's business to findwork for the unemployed.

The example in our text should enforce the necessity of united work.David's levies could keep rank. They did not let each man go at hisown rate and by his own road, but kept together, shoulder to shoulder,with equal stride. They were content to co-operate and be each a partof a greater whole. That keeping rank is a difficult problem in allsocieties, where individual judgments, weaknesses, wills, andcrotchets are at work, but it is apt to be especially difficult inChristian communities, where one may expect to find individualcharacteristics intensified, a luxuriant growth of personalpeculiarities, an intense grip of partial aspects of the great truthsand a corresponding dislike of other aspects of these, and of thosewhose favourite truths they are. One would do nothing to clip thatgrowth, but still Christians who have not learned to subordinatethemselves in and for united work are of little use to God or man.What does such united work require? Mainly the bridling of self, thecurbing of one's own will, not insisting on forcing one's opinions onone's brother, not being careful of having one's place secured andone's honour asserted. Without such virtues no association of mancould survive for a year. If the world managed its societies as theChurch manages its unity, they would collapse quickly. Indeed it is astrong presumption in favour of Christianity that the Churches havenot killed it long ago. Vanity, pride, self-importance, masterfulness,pettishness get full play among us. Diotrephes has many descendantsto-day. A cotton mill, even if it were a co-operative one, could notwork long without going into bankruptcy, if there were no more powerof working together than some Christian congregations have. A watchwould be a poor timekeeper, where every wheel tried to set the paceand be a mainspring, or sulked because the hands moved on the face insight of all men, while it had to move round and fit into its brotherwheel in the dark.

Subordination is required as well as co-operation. For if there beharmonious co-operation in varying offices, there must be degrees andranks. The differences of power and gift make degrees, and in everysociety there will be leaders. Of course there is no commandingauthority in the Churches. Its leaders are brethren, whose mostimperative highest word is, 'We beseech you.'

Of course, too, these varieties and degrees do not mean realsuperiority or inferiority in the eye of God. From the highest pointof view nothing is great or small, there is no higher or lower. Theonly measure is quality, the only gauge is motive. 'Small service istrue service while it lasts.' He that receiveth a prophet in the nameof a prophet, shall receive a prophet's reward. But yet there are, sofar as our work here is concerned, degrees and orders, and we need ahearty and ungrudging recognition of superiority wherever we find it.If the 'brother of high degree' needs to be exhorted to beware ofarrogance and imposing his own will on his fellows, the 'brother oflow degree' needs not less to be exhorted to beware of letting envyand self-will hiss and snarl in his heart at those who are in higherpositions than himself. If the chief of all needs to be reminded thatin Christ's household preeminence means service, the lower no lessneeds to be reminded that in Christ's household service meanspre-eminence.

So much, then, for organisation. It is perfectly reconcilable withdemocracy that is not mob-ocracy. In fact, democracy needs it most. IfI may venture to speak to the members of the Free Churches, with whichI am best acquainted, I would take upon myself to say that there isnothing which they need more than that they should show their polityto be capable of reconciling the freest development of the individualwith the most efficient organisation of the community. The object iswork for Christ, the bond of their fellowship is brotherly union withChrist. Many eyes are on them to-day, and the task is in their handsof showing that they can keep rank. The most perfect discipline in warin old times was found, not amongst the subjects of Eastern despotswho were not free enough to learn to submit, but amongst the republicsof Greece, where men were all on a level in the city, and fell intotheir places in the camp, because they loved liberty enough to knowthe worth of discipline, and so the slaves of Xerxes were scatteredbefore the resistless onset of the phalanx of the free. The terriblelegion which moved 'altogether when it moved at all,' and could belaunched at the foe like one javelin of steel, had for its units freemen and equals. There needs freedom for organisation. There needsorganisation for freedom. Let us learn the lesson. 'God is not theauthor of confusion, but of order, in all churches of saints.'

II. Enthusiastic devotion.

These men came to bring David up to Hebron with one single purpose intheir hearts. They had no sidelong glances to their own self-interest,they had no wavering loyalty, they had no trembling fears, so we maytake their spirit as expressing generally the deepest requirements forprosperity in a church.

The foundation of all prosperity is a passion of personal attachmentto Christ our King.

Christ is Christianity objective. Love to Christ is Christianitysubjective. The whole stress of Christian character is laid on this.It is the mother of all grace and goodness, and in regard to the workof the Church, it is the ardour of a soul full of love to Jesus thatconquers. The one thing in which all who have done much for Him havebeen alike in that single-hearted devotion.

But such love is the child of faith. It rests upon belief of truth,and is the response of man to God. Dwelling in the truth is the meansof it. How our modern Christianity fails in this strong personal bondof familiar love!

Consider its effect on the individual.

It will give tenacity of purpose, will brace to strenuous effort, willsubdue self, self-regard, self-importance, will subdue fear. It is thetrue anaesthetic. The soldier is unconscious of his wounds, while theglow of devotion is in his heart and the shout of the battle in hisears. It will give fertility of resource and patience.

Consider its effect on the community.

It will remove all difficulties in the way of discipline arising fromvanity and self which can be subdued by no other means. That flamefuses all into one glowing mass like a stream that pours from theblast furnace. What a power a church would be which had this! It isitself victory. The men that go into battle with that one firmresolve, and care for nothing else, are sure to win. Think what oneman can do who has resolved to sell his life dear!

Consider the worthlessness of discipline without this.

It is a poor mechanical accuracy. How easy to have too much machinery!How the French Revolution men swept the Austrian martinets beforethem! David was half-smothered in Saul's armour. On the other hand,this fervid flame needs control to make it last and work. Spirit andlaw are not incompatible. Valour may be disciplined, and thecombination is irresistible.

And so here, till we exchange the close array of the battlefield forthe open ranks of the festal procession on the Coronation day, and layaside the helmet for the crown, the sword for the palm, thebreastplate for the robe of peace, and stand for ever before thethrone, in the peaceful ranks of 'the solemn troops and sweetsocieties' of the unwavering armies of the heavens who serve Him witha perfect heart, and burn unconsumed with the ardours of an immortaland ever brightening love, let us see to it that we too are 'men thatcan keep rank and are not of double heart.'

DAVID'S PROHIBITED DESIRE AND PERMITTED SERVICE

'Then he called for Solomon his son, and charged him to build an housefor the Lord God of Israel. 7. And David said to Solomon, My son, asfor me, it was in my mind to build an house unto the name of the Lordmy God: 8. But the word of the Lord came to me, saying, Thou hast shedblood abundantly, and hast made great wars: thou shalt not build anhouse unto My name, because thou hast shed much blood upon the earthin My sight. 9. Behold, a son shall be born to thee, who shall be aman of rest; and I will give him rest from all his enemies roundabout: for his name shall be Solomon, and I will give peace andquietness unto Israel in his days. 10. He shall build an house for Myname; and he shall be My son, and I will be his Father; and I willestablish the throne of his kingdom over Israel for ever. 11. Now, myson, the Lord be with thee; and prosper thou, and build the house ofthe Lord thy God as He hath said of thee. 12. Only the Lord give theewisdom and understanding, and give thee charge concerning Israel, thatthou mayest keep the law of the Lord thy God, 13. Then shalt thouprosper, if thou takest heed to fulfil the statutes and judgmentswhich the Lord charged Moses with concerning Israel: be strong, and ofgood courage; dread not, nor be dismayed. 14. Now, behold, in mytrouble I have prepared for the house of the Lord an hundred thousandtalents of gold, and a thousand thousand talents of silver; and ofbrass and iron without weight; for it is in abundance: timber also andstone have I prepared and thou mayest add thereto. 15. Moreover, thereare workmen with thee in abundance, hewers and workers of stone andtimber, and all manner of cunning men for every manner of work. 16. Ofthe gold, the silver, and the brass, and the iron, there is no number.Arise, therefore, and be doing, and the Lord be with thee.'—1 CHRON.xxii. 6-16.

This passage falls into three parts. In verses 6-10 the old king tellsof the divine prohibition which checked his longing to build theTemple; in verses 11-13 he encourages his more fortunate successor,and points him to the only source of strength for his happy task; inverses 14-16 he enumerates the preparations which he had made, thepossession of which laid stringent obligations on Solomon.

I. There is a tone of wistfulness in David's voice as he tells how hisheart's desire had been prohibited. The account is substantially thesame as we have in 2 Samuel vii. 4-16, but it adds as the reason forthe prohibition David's warlike career. We may note the earnestnessand the motive of the king's desire to build the Temple. 'It was in myheart'; that implies earnest longing and fixed purpose. He had broodedover the wish till it filled his mind, and was consolidated into asettled resolve. Many a musing, solitary moment had fed the firebefore it burned its way out in the words addressed to Nathan. Soshould our whole souls be occupied with our parts in God's service,and so should our desires be strongly set towards carrying out what insolitary meditation we have felt borne in on us as our duty.

The moving spring of David's design is beautifully suggested in thesimple words 'unto the name of the Lord my God.' David's religion waseminently a personal bond between him and God. We may almost say thathe was the first to give utterance to that cry of the devout heart,'My God,' and to translate the generalities of the name 'the God ofIsrael' into the individual appropriation expressed by the formerdesignation. It occurs in many of the psalms attributed to him, andmay fairly be regarded as a characteristic of his ardent andindividualising devotion. The sense of a close, personal relation toGod naturally prompted the impulse to build His house. We must claimour own portion in the universal blessings shrined in His name beforewe are moved to deeds of loving sacrifice. We must feel that Christ'loved me, and gave Himself for me,' before we are melted intoanswering surrender.

The reason for the frustrating of David's desire, as here given, ishis career as a warrior king. Not only was it incongruous that handswhich had been reddened with blood should rear the Temple, but thefact that his reign had been largely occupied with fighting for theexistence of the kingdom showed that the time for engaging in such awork, which would task the national resources, had not yet come. Wemay draw two valuable lessons from the prohibition. One is that itindicates the true character of the kingdom of God as a kingdom ofpeace, which is to be furthered, not by force, but in peace andgentleness. The other is that various epochs and men have differentkinds of duties in relation to Christ's cause, some being called on tofight, and others to build, and that the one set of tasks may be assacred and as necessary for the rearing of the Temple as the other.Militant epochs are not usually times for building. The men who haveto do destructive work are not usually blessed with the opportunity orthe power to carry out constructive work. Controversy has its sphere,but it is mostly preliminary to true 'edification.' In the broadestview all the activity of the Church on earth is militant, and we haveto wait for the coming of the true 'Prince of peace' to build up thetrue Temple in the land of peace, whence all foes have been cast outfor ever. To serve God in God's way, and to give up our cherishedplans, is not easy; but David sets us an example of simple-hearted,cheerful acquiescence in a Providence that thwarted darling designs.There is often much self-will in what looks like enthusiasticperseverance in some form of service.

II. The charge to Solomon breathes no envy of his privilege, butearnest desire that he may be worthy of the honour which falls to him.Petitions and exhortations are closely blended in it, and, though thework which Solomon is called to do is of an external sort, thequalifications laid down for it are spiritual and moral. However'secular' our work in connection with God's service may be, it willnot be rightly done unless the highest motives are brought to bear onit, and it is performed as worship. The basis of all successful workis God's presence with us, so David prays for that to be granted toSolomon as the beginning of all his fitness for his task.

Next, David recalls to his son God's promise concerning him, that itmay hearten him to undertake and to carry on the great work. Aconviction that our service is appointed for us by God is essentialfor vigorous and successful Christian work. We must have, in some wayor other, heard Him 'speak concerning us,' if we are to flingourselves with energy into it.

The petitions in verse 12 seem to stretch beyond the necessities ofthe case, in so far as building the Temple is concerned. Wisdom andunderstanding, and a clear consciousness of the duty enjoined on himby God in reference to Israel, were surely more than that workrequired. But the qualifications for God's service, however the mannerof service may be concerned with 'the outward business of the house ofGod,' are always these which David asked for Solomon. The highestresult of true 'wisdom and understanding' given by God is keepingGod's law; and keeping it is the one condition on which we shallobtain and retain that presence of God with us which David prayed forSolomon, and without which they labour in vain that build. A lifeconformed to God's will is the absolutely indispensable condition ofall prosperity in direct Christian effort. The noblest exercise of ourwisdom and understanding is to obey every word that we hear proceedingout of the mouth of God.

III. There is something very pathetic in the old king's enumeration ofthe treasures which, by the economies of a lifetime, he had amassed.The amount stated is enormous, and probably there is some clericalerror in the numbers specified. Be that as it may, the sum was verylarge. It represented many an act of self-denial, many a resoluteshearing off of superfluities and what might seem necessaries. It wasthe visible token of long years of fixed attention to one object. Andthat devotion was all the more noble because the result of it wasnever to be seen by the man who exercised it.

Therein David is but a very conspicuous example of a law which runsthrough all our work for God. None of us are privileged to performcompleted tasks. 'One soweth and another reapeth.' We have to becontent to do partial work, and to leave its completion to oursuccessors. There is but one Builder of whom it can be said that Hishands 'have laid the foundation of this house; His hands shall alsofinish it.' He who is the 'Alpha and Omega,' and He alone, begins andcompletes the work in which He has neither sharers nor predecessorsnor successors. The rest of us do our little bit of the great workwhich lasts on through the ages, and, having inherited unfinishedtasks, transmit them to those who come after us. It is privilegeenough for any Christian to lay foundations on which coming days maybuild. We are like the workers on some great cathedral, which wasbegun long before the present generation of masons were born, and willnot be finished until long after they have dropped trowel and malletfrom their dead hands. Enough for us if we can lay one course ofstones in that great structure. The greater our aims, the less sharehas each man in their attainment. But the division of labour is themultiplication of joy, and all who have shared in the toil will beunited in the final triumph. It would be poor work that was capable ofbeing begun and perfected in a lifetime. The labourer that dug andlevelled the track and the engineer that drives the locomotive over itare partners. Solomon could not have built the Temple unless, throughlong, apparently idle, years, David had been patiently gatheringtogether the wealth which he bequeathed. So, if our work is butpreparatory for that of those who come after, let us not think it ofslight importance, and let us be sure that all who have had anyportion in the toil shall share in the victory, that 'he that sowethand he that reapeth may rejoice together.'

DAVID'S CHARGE TO SOLOMON

'And David assembled all the princes of Israel, the princes of thetribes, and the captains of the companies that ministered to the kingby course, and the captains over the thousands, and captains over thehundreds, and the stewards over all the substance and possession ofthe king, and of his sons, with the officers, and with the mighty men,and with all the valiant men, unto Jerusalem. 2. Then David the kingstood up upon his feet, and said, Hear me, my brethren, and my people:As for me, I had in mine heart to build an house of rest for the arkof the covenant of the Lord, and for the footstool of our God, and hadmade ready for the building: 3. But God said unto me, Thou shalt notbuild an house for My name, because thou hast been a man of war, andhast shed blood. 4. Howbeit the Lord God of Israel chose me before allthe house of my father to be king over Israel for ever: for He hathchosen Judah to be the ruler; and of the house of Judah, the house ofmy father; and among the sons of my father He liked me to make me kingover all Israel: 5. And of all my sons, (for the Lord hath given memany sons), he hath chosen Solomon my son to sit upon the throne ofthe kingdom of the Lord over Israel. 6. And He said unto me, Solomonthy son, he shall build My house and My courts: for I have chosen himto be My son, and I will be his father. 7. Moreover I will establishhis kingdom for ever, if he be constant to do My commandments and Myjudgments, as at this day. 8. Now therefore in the sight of all Israelthe congregation of the Lord, and in the audience of our God, keep andseek for all the commandments of the Lord your God: that ye maypossess this good land, and leave it for an inheritance for yourchildren after you for ever. 9. And thou, Solomon my son, know thouthe God of thy father, and serve Him with a perfect heart and with awilling mind: for the Lord searcheth all hearts, and understandeth allthe imaginations of the thoughts: if thou seek Him, He will be foundof thee; but if thou forsake Him, He will cast thee off for ever. 10.Take heed now; for the Lord hath chosen thee to build an house for thesanctuary: be strong, and do it.'—1 CHRON. xxviii. 1-10.

David had established an elaborate organisation of royal officials,details of which occupy the preceding chapters and interrupt thecourse of the narrative. The passage picks up again the thread droppedat chapter xxiii. 1. The list of the members of the assembly called inverse 1 is interesting as showing how he tried to amalgamate the oldwith the new. The princes of Israel, the princes of the tribes,represented the primitive tribal organisation, and they receiveprecedence in virtue of the antiquity of their office. Then comesuccessively David's immediate attendants, the military officials, thestewards of the royal estates, the 'officers' or eunuchs attached tothe palace, and the faithful 'mighty men' who had fought by the king'sside in the old days. It was an assembly of officials and soldierswhose adherence to Solomon it was all-important to secure, especiallyin regard to the project for building the Temple, which could not becarried through without their active support. The passage comprisesonly the beginning of the proceedings of this assembly of notables.The end is told in the next chapter; namely, that the Temple-buildingscheme was unanimously and enthusiastically adopted, and largedonations given for it, and that Solomon's succession was accepted,and loyal submission offered by the assembly to him.

David's address to this gathering is directed to secure these twopoints. He begins by recalling his own intention to build the Templeand God's prohibition of it. The reason for that prohibition differsfrom that alleged by Nathan, but there is no contradiction between thetwo narratives, and the chronicler has already reported Nathan's words(chap. xvii. 3, etc.), so that the motive which is ascribed to many ofthe variations in this book, a priestly desire to exalt Temple andritual, cannot have been at work here. Why should there not have beena divine communication to David as well as Nathan's message? Thathands reddened with blood, even though it had been shed in justifiablewar, were not fitted to build the Temple, was a thought so far inadvance of David's time, and flowing from so spiritual a conception ofGod, that it may well have been breathed into David's spirit by adivine voice. Sword in one hand and trowel in the other areincongruous, notwithstanding Nehemiah's example. The Temple of the Godof peace cannot be built except by men of peace. That is true in thewidest and highest application. Jesus builds the true Temple.Controversy and strife do not. And, on a lower level, the prohibitionis for ever valid. Men do not atone for a doubtful past by buildingchurches, founding colleges, endowing religious or charitableinstitutions.

The speech next declares emphatically that the throne belongs to Davidand his descendants by real 'divine right,' and that God's choice isSolomon, who is to inherit both the promises and obligations of theoffice, and, among the latter, that of building the Temple. Theunspoken inference is that loyalty to Solomon would be obedience toJehovah. The connection between the true heavenly King and His earthlyrepresentative is strongly expressed in the remarkable phrase: 'Hehath chosen Solomon … to sit upon the throne of the kingdom ofJehovah,' which both consecrates and limits the rule of Solomon,making him but the viceroy of the true king of Israel. When Israel'skings remembered that, they flourished; when they forgot it, theydestroyed their kingdom and themselves. The principle is as trueto-day, and it applies to all forms of influence, authority, andgifts. They are God's, and we are but stewards.

The address to the assembly ends with the exhortation to these leadersto 'observe,' and not merely to observe, but also to 'seek out' God'scommandments, and so to secure to the nation, whom they could guide,peaceful and prosperous days. It is not enough to do God's will as faras we know it; we must ever be endeavouring after clearer, deeperinsight into it. Would that these words were written over the doors ofall Senate and Parliament houses! What a different England we shouldsee!

But Solomon was present as well as the notables, and it was well that,in their hearing, he should be reminded of his duties. David hadpreviously in private taught him these, but this public 'charge'before the chief men of the kingdom bound them more solemnly upon him,and summoned a cloud of witnesses against him if he fell below thehigh ideal. It is pitched on a lofty key of spiritual religion, for itlays 'Know thou the God of thy fathers' as the foundation ofeverything. That knowledge is no mere intellectual apprehension, but,as always in Scripture, personal acquaintanceship with a Person, whichinvolves communion with Him and love towards Him. For us, too, it isthe seed of all strenuous discharge of our life's tasks, whether weare rulers or nobodies, and it means a much deeper experience thanunderstanding or giving assent to a set of truths about God. We knowone another when we summer and winter with each other, and not unlesswe love one another, and we know God on no other terms.

After such knowledge comes an outward life of service. Activeobedience is the expression of inward communion, love, and trust. Thespring that moves the hands on the dial is love, and, if the hands donot move, there is something wrong with the spring. Morality is thegarment of religion; religion is the animating principle of morality.Faith without works is dead, and works without faith are dead too.

But even when we 'know God' we have to make efforts to have ourservice correspond with our knowledge, for we have wayward hearts andobstinate wills, which need to be stimulated, sometimes to be coercedand forcibly diverted from unworthy objects. Therefore the exhortationto serve God 'with a perfect heart and with a willing mind' is alwaysneedful and often hard. Entire surrender and glad obedience are theChristian ideal, and continual effort to approximate to it will beours in the degree in which we 'know God.' There is no worse slaverythan that of the half-hearted Christian whose yoke is not padded withlove. Reluctant obedience is disobedience in God's sight.

David solemnly reminds Solomon of those 'pure eyes and perfectjudgment,' not to frighten, but to enforce the thought of the need forwhole-hearted and glad service, and of the worthlessness of externalacts of apparent worship which have not such behind them. What a dealof seeming wheat would turn out to be chaff if that winnowing fanwhich is in Christ's hand were applied to it! How small our biggestheaps would become!

The solemn conditions of the continuance of God's favour and of thefulfilment of His promises are next plainly stated. God responds toour state of heart and mind. We determine His bearing to us. Theseeker finds. If we move away from Him, He moves away from us. That isnot, thank God! all the truth, or what would become of any of us? Butit is true, and in a very solemn sense God is to us what we make Him.'With the pure Thou wilt show Thyself pure; and with the perverse Thouwilt show Thyself froward.'

The charge ends with recalling the high honour and office to whichJehovah had designated Solomon, and with exhortations to 'take heed'and to 'be strong, and do it.' It is well for a young man to beginlife with a high ideal of what he is called to be and do. But many ofus have that, and miserably fail to realise it, for want of these twocharacteristics, which the sight of such an ideal ought to stamp onus. If we are to fulfil God's purposes with us, and to be such toolsas He can use for building His true Temple, we must exerciseself-control and 'take heed to our ways,' and we must brace ourselvesagainst opposition and crush down our own timidity. It seems to becommanding an impossibility to say to a weak creature like any one ofus, 'Be strong,' but the impossible becomes a possibility when theexhortation takes the full Christian form: 'Be strong in the Lord, andin the power of His might.'

THE WAVES OF TIME

'The times that went over him.'—1 CHRON. xxix. 30.

This is a fragment from the chronicler's close of his life of KingDavid. He is referring in it to other written authorities in whichthere are fuller particulars concerning his hero; and he says, 'theacts of David the King, first and last, behold they are written in thebook of Samuel the seer … with all his reign and his might, and thetimes that went over him, and over all Israel, and over all thekingdoms of the countries.'

Now I have ventured to isolate these words, because they seem to me tosuggest some very solemn and stimulating thoughts about the truenature of life. They refer, originally, to the strange vicissitudesand extremes of fortune and condition which characterised, sodramatically and remarkably, the life of King David. Shepherd-boy,soldier, court favourite, outlaw, freebooter and all but brigand;rebel, king, fugitive, saint, sinner, psalmist, penitent—he lived alife full of strongly marked alternations, and 'the times that wentover him' were singularly separate and different from each other.There are very few of us who have such chequered lives as his. But theprinciple which dictated the selection by the chronicler of thissomewhat strange phrase is true about the life of every man.

I. Note, first, 'the times' which make up each life.

Now, by the phrase here the writer does not merely mean the successionof moments, but he wishes to emphasise the view that these are epochs,sections of 'time,' each with its definite characteristics and itsspecial opportunities, unlike the rest that lie on either side of it.The great broad field of time is portioned out, like the strips ofpeasant allotments, which show a little bit here, with one kind ofcrop upon it, bordered by another little morsel of ground bearinganother kind of crop. So the whole is patchy, and yet all harmonisesin effect if we look at it from high enough up. Thus each life is madeup of a series, not merely of successive moments, but of well-markedepochs, each of which has its own character, its own responsibilities,its own opportunities, in each of which there is some special work tobe done, some grace to be cultivated, some lesson to be learned, somesacrifice to be made; and if it is let slip it never comes back anymore. 'It might have been once, and we missed it, and lost it forever.' The times pass over us, and every single portion has its ownerrand to us. Unless we are wide awake we let it slip, and are thepoorer to all eternity for not having had in our heads the eyes of thewise man which 'discern both time and judgment.' It is the samethought which is suggested by the well-known words of the cynical bookof Ecclesiastes—'To every thing there is a season and a time'—anopportunity, and a definite period—'for every purpose that is underthe sun.' It is the same thought which is suggested by Paul's words,'As we have therefore opportunity, let us do good to all men. In dueseason we shall reap if we faint not.' There is 'a time for weepingand a time for laughing, a time for building up and a time for castingdown.' It is the same thought of life, and its successive epochs ofopportunity never returning, which finds expression in the threadbarelines about 'a tide in the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood,leads on to fortune,' and neglected, condemns the rest of a career tobe hemmed in among creeks and shallows.

Through all the variety of human occupations, each moment comes to uswith its own special mission, and yet, alas! to far too many of us thealternations do not suggest the question, what is it that I am herebycalled upon to be or to do? what is the lesson that presentcirc*mstances are meant to teach, and the grace that my presentcondition is meant to force me to cultivate or exhibit? There is onepoint, as it were, upon the road where we may catch a view far awayinto the distance, and, if we are not on the lookout when we comethere, we shall never get that glimpse at any other point along thepath. The old alchemists used to believe that there was what theycalled the 'moment of projection,' when, into the heaving molten massin their crucible, if they dropped the magic powder, the whole wouldturn into gold; an instant later and there would be explosion anddeath; an instant earlier and there would be no effect. And so God'smoments come to us; every one of them—if we had eyes to see and handsto grasp—a crisis, affording opportunity for something for which alleternity will not afford a second opportunity, if the moment be letpass. 'The times went over him,' and your life and mine is parcelledout into seasons which have their special vocation for and message tous.

How solemn that makes our life! How it destroys the monotony that wesometimes complain of! How it heightens the low things and magnifiesthe apparently small ones! And how it calls upon us for a sharpenedattention, that we miss not any of the blessings and gifts which Godis meaning to bestow upon us through the ministry of each moment! Howit calls upon us for not only sharpened attention, but for a desire toknow the meaning of each of the hours and of every one of Hisprovidences! And how it bids us, as the only condition ofunderstanding the times, so as to know what we ought to do, to keepour hearts in close union with Him, and ourselves ever standing, asbecomes servants, girded and ready for work; and with the question onour lips and in our hearts, 'Lord, what wouldst Thou have me to do?and what wouldst Thou have me to do now?' The lesson of the dayhas to be learned in a day, and at the moment when it is put inpractice.

II. Another thought suggested by this text is, the Power that movesthe times.

As far as my text represents—and it is not intended to go to thebottom of everything—these times flow on over a man, as a rivermight. But is there any power that moves the stream? Unthinking andsense-bound men—and we are all such, in the measure in which we areunspiritual—are contented simply to accept the mechanical flow of thestream of time. We are all tempted not to look behind the movingscreen to see the force that turns the wheel on which the paintedscene Is stretched. But, Oh! how dreary a thing it is if all that wehave to say about life is, 'The times pass over us,' like the blindrush of a stream, or the movement of the sea around our coasts, eatingaway here and depositing its spoils there, sometimes taking andsometimes giving, but all the work of mere eyeless and purposelesschance or of natural causes.

Oh, brethren! there is nothing more dismal or paralysing than thecontemplation of the flow of the times over our heads, unless we seein their flow something far more than that.

It is very beautiful to notice that this same phrase, or at least theessential part of it, is employed in one of the Psalms ascribed toDavid, with a very significant addition. He says, 'My times are inThy hand.' So, then, the passage of our epochs over us is notmerely the aimless flow of a stream, but the movement of a currentwhich God directs. Therefore, if at any time it goes over our headsand seems to overwhelm us, we can look up through the transparentwater and say, 'Thy waves and Thy billows have gone overme,' and so I die not of suffocation beneath them. God orders thetimes, and therefore, though, as the bitter ingenuity of Ecclesiastes,on the lookout for proofs of the vanity of life, complained, in aone-sided view, as an aggravation of man's lot, that there is a timefor everything, yet that aspect of change is not its deepest ortruest. True it is that sometimes birth and sometimes death, sometimesjoy and sometimes sorrow, sometimes building up and sometimes castingdown, follow each other with monotonous uniformity of variety, andseem to reduce life to a perpetual heaping up of what is as painfullyto be cast down the next moment, like the pitiless sport of the windamongst the sandhills of the desert. But the futility is onlyapparent, and the changes are not meant to occasion 'man's misery' tobe 'great upon him,' as Ecclesiastes says they do. The diversity ofthe 'times' comes from a unity of purpose; and all the various methodsof the divine Providence exercised upon us have one unchangingintention. The meaning of all the 'times' is that they should bring usnearer to God, and fill us more full of His power and grace. The webis one, however various may be the pattern wrought upon the tapestry.The resulting motion of the great machine is one, though there may bea wheel turning from left to right here, and another one that fitsinto it, turning from right to left there. The end of all the oppositemotions is straight progress. So the varying times do all tend to theone great issue. Therefore let us seek to pursue, in all varyingcirc*mstances, the one purpose which God has in them all, which theApostle states to be 'even your sanctification,' and let us understandhow summer and winter, springtime and harvest, tempest and fairweather, do all together make up the year, and ensure the springing ofthe seed and the fruitfulness of the stalk.

III. Lastly, let me remind you, too, how eloquently the words of mytext suggest the transiency of all the 'times.'

They 'passed over him' as the wind through an archway, that whistlesand comes not again. The old, old thought, so threadbare and yetalways so solemnising and pathetic, which we know so well that weforget it, and are so sure of that it has little effect on life, theold, old thought, 'this too will pass away,' underlies the phrase ofmy text,

How blessed it is, brethren! to cherish that wholesome sense of thetransiency of things here below, only those who live under itshabitual power can fairly estimate. It is thought to be melancholy. Weare told that it spoils joys and kills interest, and I know not whatbeside. It spoils no joys that ought to be joys. It kills no intereststhat are not on other grounds unworthy to be cherished. Contrariwise,the more fully we are penetrated with the persistent conviction of thetransiency of the things seen and temporal, the greater they become,by a strange paradox. For then only are they seen in their truemagnitude and nobility, in their true solemnity and importance ashaving a bearing on the things that are eternal. Time is the'ceaseless lackey of eternity,' and the things that pass over us maybecome, like the waves of the sea, the means of bearing us to theunmoving shore. Oh! if only in the midst of joys and sorrows, of heavytasks and corroding cares, of weary work and wounded spirits, we couldfeel, 'but for a moment,' all would be different, and joy would come,and strength would come, and patience would come, and every gracewould come, in the train of the wholesome conviction that 'here wehave no continuing city.'

Cherish the thought. It will spoil nothing the spoiling of which willbe a loss. It will heighten everything the possession of which is again. It will teach us to trust in the darkness, and to believe in thelight. And when the times are dreariest, and frost binds the ground,we shall say, 'If winter comes, can spring be far behind?' The timesroll over us, like the seas that break upon some isolated rock, andwhen the tide has fallen and the vain flood has subsided, the rock isthere. If the world helps us to God, we need not mind though itpasses, and the fashion thereof.

But do not let us forget that this text in its connection may teach usanother thought. The transitory 'times that went over' Israel's kingare all recorded imperishably on the pages here, and so, thoughcondensed into narrow space, the record of the fleeting moments livesfor ever, and 'the books shall be opened, and men shall be judgedaccording to their works.' We are writing an imperishable record byour fleeting deeds. Half a dozen pages carry all the story of thatstormy life of Israel's king. It takes a thousand rose-trees to make avial full of essence of roses. The record and issues of life will becondensed into small compass, but the essence of it is eternal. Weshall find it again, and have to drink as we have brewed when we getyonder. 'Be not deceived, God is not mocked, for whatsoever a mansoweth that shall he also reap.' 'There is a time to sow,' and that isthe present life; 'and there is a time to gather the fruits' of oursowing, and that is the time when times have ended and eternity ishere.

THE SECOND BOOK OF CHRONICLES

THE DUTY OF EVERY DAY

'Then Solomon offered burnt offerings unto the Lord … Even after acertain rate every day.'—(A.V.)

'Then Solomon offered burnt offerings unto the Lord, even as the dutyof every day required it.'—2 Chron. viii. 12-13 (R. V.).

This is a description of the elaborate provision, in accordance withthe commandment of Moses, which Solomon made for the worship in hisnew Temple. The writer is enlarging on the precise accordance of theritual with the regulations laid down in the law. He expresses, by thephrase which we have taken as our text, not only the accordance of theworship with the commandment, but its unbroken continuity, and alsothe variety in it, according to the regulations for different days.For the verse runs on, 'on the Sabbaths, and on the new moons, and onthe solemn feasts, three times in the year, even in the Feast ofunleavened bread, and in the Feast of weeks, and in the Feast ofTabernacles.' There were, then, these characteristics in the ritual ofSolomon's Temple, precise compliance with the Divine commandment,unbroken continuity, and beautiful flexibility and variety of method.

But passing altogether from the original application of the words, Iventure to do now what I very seldom do, and that is, to take thisverse as a kind of motto. 'Even according as the duty of every dayrequired'; the phrase may suggest three thoughts: that each day hasits own work, its own worship, and its own supplies, 'even as the dutyof every day required.'

Each day has its own work.

Of course there is a great uniformity in our lives, and many of us whoare set down to one continuous occupation can tell twelve monthsbefore what, in all probability, we shall be doing at each hour ofeach day in the week. But for all that, there is a certain individualphysiognomy about each new day as it comes to us; and the oldest, mosthabitual, and therefore in some degree easiest and least stimulating,work has its own special characteristics as it comes again to us dayby day for the hundredth time.

So there are three pieces of practical wisdom that I would suggest,and one is—be content to take your work in little bits as it comes.There is a great deal of practical wisdom in taking short views ofthings, for although we have often to look ahead, yet it is better onthe whole that a man should, as far as he can, confine hisanticipations to the day that is passing, and leave the day that iscoming to look after itself. Take short views and be content to leteach day prescribe its tasks, and you have gone a long way to make allyour days quiet and peaceful. For it is far more the anticipation ofdifficulties than the realisation of them that wears and wearies us.If a man says to himself, 'This sorrow that I am carrying, or thiswork that I have to do, is going to last for many days to come,' hisheart will fail. If he said to himself, 'It will be no worse to-morrowthan it is at this moment, and I can live through it, for am I notliving through it at this moment, and getting power to endure or do atthis moment? and to-morrow will probably be like today,' things wouldnot be so difficult.

You remember the homely old parable of the clock on the stair thatgave up ticking altogether because it began to calculate how manythousands of seconds there are in the year, and that twice that numberof times it would have to wag backwards and forwards. The lesson thatit learned was—tick one tick and never mind the next. You will beable to do it when the time to do it comes. Let us act 'as the duty ofevery day requireth.' 'Sufficient for the day is the work thereof.'

Then there is another piece of advice from this thought of each dayhaving its own work, and that is—keep your ears open, and your eyestoo, to learn the lesson of what the day's work is. There is generallyabundance of direction for us if only we are content with theone-step-at-a-time direction, which we get, and if another conditionis fulfilled, if we try to suppress our own wishes and the noisybabble of our own yelping inclinations, and take the whip to themuntil they cease their barking, that we may hear what God says. It isnot because He does not speak, but because we are too anxious to haveour own way to listen quietly to His voice, that we make most of ourblunders as to what the duty of every day requires. If we will bestill and listen, and stand in the attitude of the boy-prophet beforethe glimmering lamp in the sacred place, saying, 'Speak, Lord! for Thyservant heareth,' we shall get sufficient instruction for our nextstep.

Another piece of practical wisdom that I would suggest is that ifevery day has its own work, we should buckle ourselves to do the day'swork before night falls and not leave any over for to-morrow, whichwill be quite full enough. 'Do the duty that lies nearest thee,' wasthe preaching of one of our sages, and it is wholesome advice. Forwhen we do that duty, the doing of it has a wonderful power of openingup further steps, and showing us more clearly what is the next duty.Only let us be sure of this, that no moment comes from God which hasnot in it boundless possibilities; and that no moment comes from Godwhich has not in it stringent obligations. We neither avail ourselvesof the one, nor discharge the other, unless we come, morning bymorning, to the new day that is dawning upon us, with some freshconsciousness of the large issues that may be wrapped in its unseenhours, and the great things for Him that we may do ere its eveningfalls.

Each day has its tasks, and if we do not do the tasks of each day inits day, we shall fling away life. If a man had L. 100,000 for afortune, and turned it all into halfpence, and tossed them out of thewindow, he could soon get rid of his whole fortune. And if you flingaway your moments or live without the consciousness of their solemnpossibilities and mystic awfulness, you will find at the last that youhave made 'ducks and drakes' of your years, and have flung them awayin moments without knowing what you were doing, and withoutpossibility of recovery. 'Take care of the pence, the pounds will takecare of themselves.' Take care of the days, and the years will show afair record.

Secondly, we have here the suggestion that every day has its ownworship.

As I remarked at the beginning of my observations, the chroniclerdwells, with a certain kind of satisfaction, in accordance with thetone of his whole writings, upon the external ritual of the Temple;and points out its entire conformity with the divine precept, and theunbroken continuity of worship day after day, year in year out, andthe variation of the characteristics of that worship according as theday was more or less ritually important. From his words we may deducea very needful though obvious and commonplace lesson. What we want isevery-day religion, and that every-day religion is the only thing thatwill enable us to do what the duty of every day requires. But thatevery-day religion which will be our best ally, and power for thedischarge of the obligations that each moment brings with it, musthave its points of support, as it were, in special moments and methodsof worship.

So, then, take that first thought: What we want is a religion thatwill go all through our lives. A great many of you keep your religionwhere you keep your best clothes: putting it on on Sunday and lockingit away on the Sunday night in a wardrobe because it is not the dressthat you go to work in. And some of you keep your religion in yourpew, and lock it up in the little box where you put your hymn-booksand your Bibles, which you read only once a week, devoting yourselvesto ledgers or novels and newspapers for the rest of your time. We wanta religion that will go all through our life; and if there is anythingin our life that will not stand its presence, the sooner we get rid ofthat element the better. A mountain road has generally a livingbrooklet leaping and flashing by the side of it. So our lives will bedusty and dead and cold and poor and prosaic unless that river runsalong by the roadside and makes music for us as it flows. Take yourreligion wherever you go. If you cannot take it in to any scenes orcompany, stop you outside.

There is nothing that will help a man to do his day's work so much asthe realisation of Christ's Presence. And that realisation, along withits certain results, devotion of heart to Him and submission of willto His commandment, and desire to shape our lives to be like His, willmake us masters of all circ*mstances and strong enough for the hardestwork that God can lay upon us.

There is nothing so sure to make life beautiful, and noble, and pure,and peaceful, and strong as this—the application to its monotonoustrifles of religious principles. If you do not do little things asChristian men and women, and under the influence of Christianprinciple, pray what are you going to do under the influence ofChristian principle? If you are keeping your religion to influence thecrises of your lives, and are content to let the trifles be ruled bythe devil or the world and yourselves, you will find out, when youcome to the end, that there were perhaps three or four crises in yourexperience, and that all the rest of life was made of trifles, andthat when the crises came you could not lay your hand on the religiousprinciple that would have enabled you to deal with them. The sword hadgot so rusty in its scabbard because it had never been drawn for longyears, that it could not be readily drawn in the moment of suddenperil; and if you could have drawn it, you would have found its edgeblunted. Use your religion on the trifles, or you will not be able tomake much of it in the crises. 'He that is faithful in that which isleast is faithful also in much.' The worship of every day is thepreparation for the work of that day.

Further, that worship, that religion, wearing its common, modest suitof workaday clothes, must also, if there is to be any power in it,have a certain variety in its methods. 'Solomon offered burntofferings … on the Sabbaths, on the new moons,' which had a littlemore ceremonial than the Sabbaths, 'and on the solemn feasts threetimes in a year,' which had still more ceremonial than the new moons,'even in the Feast of unleavened bread, and in the Feast of weeks, andin the Feast of tabernacles.' These were spring-tides when the sea ofworship rose beyond its usual level, and they kept it from stagnating.We, too, if we wish to have this every-day religion running with anystrength of scour and current through our lives, will need to havemoments when it touches high-water mark, else it will not flush thefoulness out of our hearts and our lives.

Lastly, take the other suggestion, that every day has its ownsupplies.

That does not lie in the text properly, but for the sake ofcompleteness I add it. Every day has its own supplies. The manna fellevery day, and was gathered and consumed on the day on which it fell.God gives us strength measured accurately by the needs of the day. Youwill get as much as you require, and if ever you do not get as much asyou require, which is very often the case with Christian people, thatis not because God did not send enough manna, but because theiromer was not ready to catch it as it fell. The day's supply ismeasured by the day's need. Suppose an Israelite had sat in his tentand said, 'I am not going out to gather,' would he have had any in hisempty vessel? Certainly not. The manna lay all around the tent, buteach man had to go out and gather it. God makes no mistakes in Hisweights and measures. He gives us each sufficient strength to do Hiswill and to walk in His ways; and if we do not do His will or walk inHis ways, or if we find our burden too heavy, our sorrows too sharp,our loneliness too dreary, our difficulties too great, it is notbecause 'the Lord's hand is shortened that it cannot' supply, butbecause our hands are so slack that they will not take the sufficiencywhich He gives. In the midst of abundance we are starving. We let thewater run idly through the open sluice instead of driving the wheelsof life.

My friend! God's measure of supply is correct. If we were morefaithful and humble, and if we understood better and felt more howdeep is our need and how little is our strength, we should morecontinually be able to rejoice that He has given, and we havereceived, 'even as the duty of every day required.'

CONTRASTED SERVICES

'They shall be his servants: that they may know My service, and theservice of the kingdoms of the countries.'—2 Chron. xii. 8.

Rehoboam was a self-willed, godless king who, like some other kings,learned nothing by experience. His kingdom was nearly wrecked at thevery beginning of his reign, and was saved much more by the folly ofhis rival than by his own wisdom. Jeroboam's religious revolutiondrove all the worshippers of God among the northern kingdom intoflight. They might have endured the separate monarchy, but they couldnot endure the separate Temple. So all priests and Levites in Israel,and all the adherents of the ancestral worship in the Temple atJerusalem, withdrew to the southern kingdom and added much to itsstrength.

Rehoboam's narrow escape taught him neither moderation nor devotion,his new strength turned his head. He forsook the law of the Lord. Thedreary series, so often illustrated in the history of Israel, cameinto operation. Prosperity produced irreligion; irreligion broughtchastisem*nt; chastisem*nt brought repentance; repentance brought theremoval of the invader—and then, like a spring released, back wentking and nation to their old sin.

So here—Rehoboam's sins take visible form in Sheshak's army. He hassown the dragon's teeth and they spring up armed men. Shemaiah theprophet, the first of the long series of noble men who curbed theviolence of Jewish monarchs, points the lesson of invasion in plain,blunt words: 'Ye have forsaken Me.' Then follow penitence andconfession—and the promise that Jerusalem shall not be destroyed, butat the same time they are to be left as vassals and tributaries ofEgypt—an anomalous position for them—and the reason is given inthese words of our text.

I. The contrasted Masters.

Judah was too small to be independent of the powerful warlike statesto its north and south, unless miraculously guarded and preserved. Soit must either keep near God, and therefore free and safe frominvasion, or else, departing from God and following its own ways, fallunder alien dominion. Its experience was a type of that of universalhumanity. Man is not independent. His mass is not enough for him to dowithout a central orb round which he may revolve. He has a choice ofthe form of service and the master that he will choose, but one orother must dominate his life and sway his motions. 'Ye cannot serveGod and Mammon'; ye must serve God or Mammon. The solemn choiceis presented to every man, but the misery of many lives is that theydrift along, making their election unawares, and infallibly choosingthe worse by the very act of lazily or weakly allowing accident todetermine their lives. Not consciously and strongly to will the right,not resolutely and with coercion of the vagrant self to will to takeGod for our aim, is to choose the low, the wrong. Perhaps none, orvery few of us, would deliberately say 'I choose Mammon, havingcarefully compared the claims of the opposite systems of life thatsolicit me, and with open-eyed scrutiny measured their courses, theirgoods and their ends.' But how many of us there are who have in effectmade that choice, and never have given one moment's clear, patientexamination of the grounds of our choice! The policy of drift isunworthy of a man and is sure to end in ruin.

It is not for me to attempt here to draw out the contrast between man'schief end and all other rival claimants of our lives. Each man must dothat for himself, and I venture to assert that the more thoroughly theprocess of comparison is carried out, and the more complete the analysisnot only of the rival claims and gifts, but of our capacities and needs,the more sun-clear will be the truth of the old, well-worn answer:'Man's chief end is to glorify God and to enjoy Him for ever.' The oldwoman by her solitary fireside who has learned that and practises it,has chosen the better part which will last when many shining careershave sunk into darkness, and many will-o'-the-wisps, which have beenpursued with immense acclamations, have danced away into the bog, andmany a man who has been envied and admired has had to sum up hissuccessful career in the sad words, 'I have played the fool and erredexceedingly.' I cannot pretend to conduct the investigation for you, butI can press on every one who does not wish to let accidents mould him,at least to recognise that there is a choice to be made, and to make itdeliberately and with eyes open to the facts of the case. It is a shabbyway of ruining yourself to do it for want of thought. The rabble ofcompetitors of God catch more souls by accident than of set purpose.Most men are godless because they have never fairly faced the question:what does my soul require in order to reach its highest blessedness andits noblest energy?

II. The contrasted experience of the servants.

Judah learned that the yoke of obedience to God's law was a worldlighter than the grinding oppression of the Egyptian invader.

God's service is freedom; the world's is slavery.

Liberty is unrestrained power to do what we ought. Man must be subjectto law. The solemn imperative of duty is omnipresent and sovereign. Todo as we like is not freedom, but bondage to self, and that usuallyour worst self, which means crushing or coercing the better self. Thechoice is to chain the beast in us or to clip the wings of the angelin us, and he is a fool who conceits himself free because he lets hisinferior self have its full swing, and hustles his better self intobondage to clear the course for the other. There is but onedeliverance from the sway of self, and it is realised in the libertywherewith Christ has made us free. To make self our master inevitablyleads to setting beggars on horseback and princes walking. Passion,the 'flesh' is terribly apt to usurp the throne within when once Godis dethroned. Then indulgence feeds passion, and deeper draughtsbecome necessary in order to produce the same effects, and cravings,once allowed free play, grow in ravenousness, while their pabulumsteadily loses its power to satisfy. The experience of the undevoutsensualist is but too faithful a type of that of all undevout livers,in the failure of delights to delight and of acquisitions to enrich,and in the bondage, often to nothing more worthy to be obeyed thanmere habit, and in the hopeless incapacity to shake off the adamantinechains which they have themselves rivetted on their limbs. There areendless varieties in the forms which the service of self assumes,ranging from gross animalism, naked and unashamed, up to refined andcultured godlessness, but they are one in their inmost character, onein their disabling the spirit from a free choice of its course, one inthe limitations which they impose on its aspirations andpossibilities, one in the heavy yoke which they lay on their vassals.The true liberty is realised only when for love's dear sake wejoyously serve God, and from the highest motive enrol ourselves in thehousehold of the highest Person, and by the act become 'no moreservants but sons.' Well may we all pray—

'Lord! bind me up, and let me lie
A prisoner to my liberty,
If such a state at all can be
As an imprisonment, serving Thee.'

God's service brings solid good, the world's is vain and empty.

God's service brings an approving conscience, a calm heart, strengthand gladness. It is in full accord with our best selves. Tranquil joysattend on it. 'In keeping Thy commandments there is great reward,' andthat not merely bestowed after keeping, but realised and inherent inthe very act. On the other side, think of the stings of conscience,the illusions on which those feed who will not eat of the heavenlyfood, the husks of the swine-trough, the ashes for bread, that selfand the world, in all their forms set before men. A pathetic characterin modern fiction says, 'If you make believe very much it is nice.' Ittakes a tremendous amount of make-believe to keep up an appetite forthe world's dainties or to find its meats palatable, after a littlewhile. No sin ever yields the fruit it was expected to produce, or ifit does it brings something which was not expected, and the bittertang of the addition spoils the whole. It may be wisely adapted tosecure a given end, but that end is only a means to secure the realend, our substantial blessedness, and that is never attained but byone course of life, the life of service of God. We may indeed win agoodly garment, but the plague is in the stuff and, worn, it will burninto the bones like fire. I read somewhere lately of thieves who hadstolen a cask of wine, and had their debauch, but they sickened anddied. The cask was examined and a huge snake was found dead in it. Itspoison had passed into the wine and killed the drinkers. That is howthe world serves those who swill its cup. 'What fruit had ye then inthose things whereof ye are now ashamed?' The threateningpronounced against Israel's disobedience enshrines an eternal truth:'Because thou servedst not the Lord thy God with joyfulness, and withgladness of heart, by reason of the abundance of all things; thereforeshalt thou serve thine enemies … in hunger and in thirst, and innakedness and in want of all things.'

God's service has final issues and the world's service has finalissues.

Only fools try to blink the fact that all our doings haveconsequences. And it augurs no less levity and insensibility to blinkthe other fact that these consequences show no indications of beingbroken short off at the end of our earthly life. Men die into anotherlife, as they have ever, dimly and with many foolish accompaniments,believed; and dead, they are the men that they have made themselveswhile living. Character is eternal, memory is eternal, death puts thestamp of perpetuity on what life has evolved. Nothing human ever dies.The thought is too solemn to be vulgarised by pulpit rhetoric. Enoughto say here that these two tremendous alternatives, Life and Death,express some little part of the eternal issues of our fleeting days.Looking fixedly into these two great symbols of the ultimate issues ofthese contrasted services, we can dimly see, as in the one, a wonderof resplendent glories moving in a sphere 'as calm as it is bright,'so, in the other, whirling clouds and jets of vapour as in the craterof a volcano. One shuddering glance over the rim of it should sufficeto warn from lingering near, lest the unsteady soil should crumblebeneath our feet.

But the true Lord of our lives loves us too well to let us experienceall the bitter issues of our foolish rebellion against His authority,and yet He loves us too well not to let us taste something of themthat we may 'know and see that it is an evil thing and abitter, that thou hast forsaken the Lord thy God.' The experiencesof the consequences of godless living are in some measure allowed tofall on us by God's love, lest we should persist in the evil and sobring down on ourselves still more fatal issues. It is mercy that herechastises the evildoer with whips, in hope of not having to chastisehim with scorpions. God desires to teach us, by the pains andheartaches of an undevout life, by disappointments, foiled plans,wrecked hopes, inner poverty, the difference between His service andthat of 'the kingdoms of the countries,' if haply He may not be forcedto let the full flood of fatal results overwhelm us. It is best to bedrawn to serve Him by the cords of love, but it is possible to havethe beginnings of the desire so to serve roused by the far lowermotives of weariness and disgust at the world's wages, and by dread ofwhat these may prove when they are paid in full. Self-interest maysicken a man of serving Mammon, and may be transformed into theself-surrender which makes God's service possible and blessed. Theflight into the city of refuge may be quickened by the fear of thepursuer, whose horse's hoofs are heard thundering on the road behindthe fugitive, and whose spear is all but felt a yard from his back,but once within the shelter of the city wall, gratitude fordeliverance will fill his heart and 'perfect love will cast out fear.'

The king concerning whom our text was spoken had to suffer humiliationby the Egyptian invasion. His sufferings were meant to be educational,and when they in some measure effected their purpose, God curbed theinvader and granted some measure of deliverance. So is it with us, if,moved by whatever impulse, we betake ourselves to Jesus to save usfrom the bitter fruits of our evil lives. The extreme severity of theresults of our sins does not fall on penitent, believing spirits, butsome do fall. As the Psalmist says: 'Thou wast a God that forgavestthem though Thou tookest vengeance of their inventions.' A profligatecourse of life may be forgiven, but health or fortune is ruined allthe same. In brief, the so-called 'natural' consequences are notremoved, though the sin which caused them is pardoned. Pollutedmemories, indulged habits, defiled imaginations, are not got rid of,though the sins that inflicted them are forgiven.

Is it not, then, the part of wise men to lay to heart the lessons ofexperience, and to let what we have learned of the bitter fruit ofgodless living turn us away from such service, and draw us by mercifulchastisem*nt to yield ourselves to God, whom to serve accords with ourdeepest needs and brings first fruits and pre-libations of blessednessand peace here, and fullness of joy with pleasures for evermorehereafter?

THE SECRET OF VICTORY

'The children of Judah prevailed, because they relied upon the Lord
God of their fathers.'—2 CHRON. xiii. 18.

These words are the summing-up of the story of a strange old-worldbattle between Jeroboam, the adventurer who rent the kingdom, andAbijah, the son of the foolish Rehoboam, whose unseasonable blusteringhad played into the usurper's hands. The son was a wiser and betterman than his father. It is characteristic of the ancient world, thatbefore battle was joined Abijah made a long speech to the enemy,recounting the ritual deficiencies of the Northern kingdom, andproudly contrasting the punctilious correctness of the Temple servicewith the irregular cult set up by Jeroboam. He confidently pointed tothe priests 'with their trumpets' in his army as the visible sign that'God is with us at our head,' and while charging Israel with having'forsaken the Lord our God,' to whom he and his people had kept true,besought them not to carry their rebellion to the extreme of fightingagainst their fathers' God, and assured them that no success couldattend their weapons in such a strife. The passionate appeal had noeffect, but while Abijah was orating, Jeroboam was carrying out aruse, and planting part of his troops behind Judah, so as to put thembetween two fires and draw a net round the outnumbered andoutmanoeuvred enemy.

Abijah and his men suddenly detected their desperate position, and didthe only wise thing. When, with a shock of surprise, they saw that'behold! the battle was before and behind them,' they 'cried unto theLord, and the priests sounded with the trumpets.' The sharp, short cryfrom thousands of agitated men ringed round by foes, and the blare ofthe trumpets were both prayers, and heartened the suppliants for theirwhirlwind charge, before which the men of Israel, double in number asthey were, broke and fled. The defeat was thorough, and, for a while,Rehoboam and his kingdom were 'brought under,' and a comparativelylong peace followed. Our text gathers up the lesson taught, not toJudah or Israel alone, by victory and defeat, when it declares that torely upon the Lord is to prevail. It opens for us the secret ofvictory, in that old far-off struggle and in to-day's conflicts.

I. We note the faith of the fighters.

'They relied,' says the chronicler, 'upon the Lord.' Now the wordrendered 'relied' is one of several picturesque words by which the OldTestament, which we are sometimes told, with a great flourish oflearning, has no mention of 'faith,' expresses 'trust,' by metaphorsdrawn from bodily actions which symbolise the spiritual act. The wordhere literally signifies to lean on, as a feeble hand might on astaff, or a tremulous arm on a strong one. And does not that picturecarry with it much insight into what the essence of Old Testament'trust' or New Testament 'faith' is? If we think of faith as leaning,we shall not fall into that starved misconception of it which takes itto be nothing more than intellectual assent. We shall see there is afar fuller pulse of feeling than that beating in it. A man who leanson some support, does so because he knows that his own strength isinsufficient for his need. The consciousness of weakness is thebeginning of faith. He who has never despaired of himself has scarcelytrusted in God. Abijah's enemies were two to one of his own men. Nowonder that they cried unto the Lord, and felt a stound of despairshake their courage. And who of us can face life with its heavyduties, its thick-clustering dangers and temptations, its certainstruggles, its possible failures, and not feel the cold touch of dreadgripping our hearts, though strong and brave? Surely he has had littleexperience, or has learned little wisdom from the experience he hashad, who has yet to discover his own weakness. But the consciousnessof weakness is by itself debilitating, and but increases the weaknessof which it is painfully aware. There is no surer way to sap whatstrength we have than to tell ourselves what poor creatures we are.The purpose and end of self-contemplation which becomes aware of ourown feebleness is to lead us to the contemplation of God, our immortalstrength. Abijah's assurance that 'God is with us at our head' rangout triumphantly. Faith has an upper and an under side: the under sideis self-distrust; the upper, trust in God. He will never lean all hisweight on a prop, who fancies that he can stand alone, or has otherstays to hold him up.

But Abijah's example teaches us another lesson—that for a vigorousfaith, there must be obedience to all God's known will. True, thankGod! faith often springs in its power in a soul that is conscious butof sin, but a continuance in disobedience will inevitably kill faith.It was because Abijah and his people had kept 'the charge of the Lordour God,' that they were sure that God was with them. We can only besure of God to lean on when we are doing His will, and we shall do Hiswill only as we are sure that we lean on Him. Our trust in Him will bestrong and operative in the measure in which our lives are conformedto His commandments. Much elaborate dissertation has been devoted toexpounding what faith is, and the strong, vivid Scriptural conceptionof it has been woefully darkened and overlaid with cobwebs oftheology, but surely this eloquent metaphor of our text tells us morethan do many learned volumes. It bids us lean on God, rest the wholeweight of our needs, our weaknesses, and our sins on Him. Like anyhuman friend or helper, He is better pleased when we lean hard on Himthan when we gingerly put a finger on His arm, and lay no pressure onit, as we do when in ceremonial fashion we seem to accept another'ssupport, and hold ourselves back from putting a weight on the offeredarm. We cannot rely too utterly on Him. We honour Him most when werepose our whole selves on His strong arm.

II. The increase of faith by sudden fear.

'When Judah looked back, behold, the battle was before and behindthem.' The shock of seeing the flashing spears in the rear would makethe bravest hold their breath for one overwhelming moment, but thenext moment their faith in God surged back with tenfold force,increased by the sudden new peril. The sharp collision of flint andsteel struck out a spark of faith. 'What time I am afraid, I willtrust in Thee,' said an expert in the genesis and growth of trust.Peril kills a feeble trust, but vivifies it, if strong. Therecognition of danger is meant to drive us to God. If each freshdifficulty or danger makes us tighten our clasp of Him, and lean theharder on Him, it has done its highest service to us, and we haveconquered it, and are the stronger because of it. The storm that makesthe traveller, fighting with the wind and the rain in his face, clasphis cloak tighter round him, does him no harm. The purpose of ourtrials is to drive us to God, and a fair-weather faith which had allbut fallen asleep is often roused to energy that works wonders, by thesudden dash of danger flung into and disturbing a life. It is wiseseamanship to make a run to get snugly behind the breakwater when asudden gale springs up.

III. The expression of faith in appeal to God.

When the ambush was unmasked, the surrounded men of Judah 'cried untothe Lord, and the priests sounded with the trumpets,' before theyflung themselves on the enemy. We may be sure that their cry was shortand sharp, and poignant with appeal to God. There would be no wastewords, nor perfunctory petitions without wings of desire, in that cry.Should we not look for the essential elements of prayer rather to suchcries, pressed from burdened hearts by a keen sense of absolutehelplessness, and very careless of proprieties so long as they wereshrill enough to pierce God's ear and touch His heart, than to theformal petitions of well-ordered worship? A single ejacul*tion flungheavenward in a moment of despair or agony is more precious in God'ssight than a whole litany of half-hearted devotions.

The text puts in a striking form another lesson well worth learning,that, in the greatest crises, no time is better spent than time usedfor prayer. A rush on the enemy would not have served Abijah's purposenearly so well as that moment's pause for crying to the Lord, beforehis charge. Hands lifted to heaven are nerved to clutch the sword andstrike manfully. It is not only that Christ's soldiers are to fightand pray, but that they fight by praying. That is true in the smallconflicts and antagonisms of the lives of each of us, and it is truein regard to the agelong battle against ignorance and sin. Christian'ssword was named 'All-prayer.'

The priests, too, blew a prayer through their trumpets, for theordinance had appointed that 'when ye go to war … then shall yesound an alarm with the trumpets; and ye shall be remembered beforethe Lord your God, and ye shall be saved from your enemies.' Theclear, strident blare was not intended to hearten warriors, or to singdefiance, but to remind God of His promises, and to bring Him on tothe battlefield, as He had said that He would be. The truest prayer isthat which but picks up the arrows of promise shot from heaven toearth, and casts them back from earth to heaven. He prays best whofills his mouth with God's words, turning every 'I will' of His into'Do Thou!'

IV. The strength that comes through faith.

'As the men of Judah shouted, it came to pass that God smote Jeroboamand all Israel before Abijah and Judah.' There is no such quickener ofall a man's natural force as even the lowest forms of faith. He whothrows himself into any enterprise sure of success will often succeedjust because he was sure he would. The world's history is full ofinstances where men, with every odds against them, have plucked theflower safety out of the nettle danger, just because they trusted intheir star, or their luck, or their destiny. We all know how a verycrude faith turned a horde of wild Arabs into a conquering army, thatin a century dominated the world from Damascus to Seville. The truththat is in 'Christian Science' is that many forms of disease yield tothe patient's firm persuasion of recovery. And from these and manyother facts the natural power of faith is beginning to dawn on themost matter-of-fact and unspiritual people. They are beginning tothink that perhaps Christ was right after all in saying 'All thingsare possible to him that believeth,' and that it is not such a blunderafter all to make faith the first step to all holiness and purity, andthe secret of victory in life's tussle. Leaving out of view for themoment the supernatural effects of faith, which Christianity allegesare its constant consequences, it is clear that its natural effectsare all in the direction of increasing the force of the trusting man.It calms, it heartens for all work, effort, and struggle. It impartspatience, it brightens hope, it forbids discouragement, it rebukes andcures despondency. And besides all this, there is the supernaturalcommunication of a strength not our own, which is the constant resultof Christian faith. Christian faith knits the soul and the Saviour inso close a union, that all that is Christ's becomes the Christian's,and every believer may hear His Lover's voice whispering to him whatone of His servants once heard in an hour of despondency, 'My grace issufficient for thee, for My power is made perfect in weakness.' Faithjoins us to the Lord, and 'he that is joined to the Lord is onespirit'; and that Lord has said to all His disciples, 'I give theeMyself, and in Myself all that is Mine.' We do not go to warfare atour own charges, but there will pass into and abide in our hearts thewarlike might of the true King and Captain of the Lord's host, and weshall hear the ring of His encouraging voice saying, 'Be of goodcheer! I have overcome the world.'

ASA'S REFORMATION, AND CONSEQUENT PEACE AND VICTORY

'And Asa did that which was good and right in the eyes of the Lord hisGod; 3. For he took away the altars of the strange gods, and the highplaces, and brake down the images, and cut down the groves: 4. Andcommanded Judah to seek the Lord God of their fathers, and to do thelaw and the commandment. 5. Also he took away out of all the cities ofJudah the high places and the images: and the kingdom was quiet beforehim. 6. And he built fenced cities in Judah: for the land had rest,and he had no war in those years; because the Lord had given him rest.7. Therefore he said unto Judah, Let us build these cities, and makeabout them walls, and towers, gates, and bars, while the land is yetbefore us; because we have sought the Lord our God, we have soughtHim, and He hath given us rest on every side. So they built andprospered. 8. And Asa had an army of men that bare targets and spears,out of Judah three hundred thousand; and out of Benjamin, that bareshields and drew bows, two hundred and fourscore thousand: all thesewere mighty men of valour.'—2 CHRON. xiv. 2-8.

Asa was Rehoboam's grandson, and came to the throne when a young man.The two preceding reigns had favoured idolatry, but the young king hada will of his own, and inaugurated a religious revolution, with whichand its happy results this passage deals.

I. It first recounts the thorough clearance of idolatrous emblems andimages which Asa made. 'Strange altars,'—that is, those dedicated toother gods; 'high places,'—that is, where illegal sacrifice toJehovah was offered; 'pillars,'—that is, stone columns; and'Asherim,'—that is, trees or wooden poles, survivals of ancientstone- or tree-worship; 'sun-images,'—that is, probably, pillarsconsecrated to Baal as sun-god, were all swept away. The enumerationvividly suggests the incongruous rabble of gods which had taken theplace of the one Lord. How vainly we try to make up for His absencefrom our hearts by a multitude of finite delights and helpers! Theirmultiplicity proves the insufficiency of each and of all.

1 Kings xv. 13 adds a detail which brings out still more clearly Asa'sreforming zeal; for it tells us that he had to fight against theinfluence of his mother, who had been prominent in supportingdisgusting and immoral forms of worship, and who retained someauthority, of which her son was strong enough to take the extreme stepof depriving her. Remembering the Eastern reverence for a mother, wecan estimate the effort which that required, and the resolution whichit implied. But 1 Kings differs from our narrative in stating that the'high places' were not taken away—the explanation of the variationprobably being that the one account tells what Asa attempted andcommanded, and the other records the imperfect way in which his orderswere carried out. They would be obeyed in Jerusalem and itsneighbourhood, but in many a secluded corner the old rites would beobserved.

It is vain to force religious revolutions. Laws which are notsupported by the national conscience will only be obeyed wheredisobedience will involve penalties. If men's hearts cleave to Baal,they will not be turned into Jehovah-worshippers by a king's commands.Asa could command Judah to 'seek the Lord God of their fathers, and todo the law,' but he could not make them do it.

II. The chronicler brings out strongly the truth which runs throughhis whole book,—namely, the connection between honouring Jehovah andnational prosperity. He did not import that thought into hisnarrative, but he insisted on it as moulding the history of Judah.Modern critics charge him with writing with a bias, but he learned the'bias' from God's own declarations, and had it confirmed byobservation, reflection, and experience. The whole history of Israeland Judah was one long illustration of the truth which he isconstantly repeating. No doubt, the divine dealings with Israelbrought obedience and well-being into closer connection than existsnow; but in deepest truth the sure defence of our national prosperityis the same as theirs, and it is still the case that 'righteousnessexalteth a nation.' 'The kingdom was quiet,' says the chronicler, 'andhe had no war in those years; because the Lord had given him rest.' 1Kings makes more of the standing enmity with the northern kingdom, andrecords scarcely anything of Asa's reign except the war which, as itsays, was between him and Baasha of Israel 'all their days.' But,according to 2 Chronicles xvi. 1, Baasha did not proceed to war tillAsa's thirty-sixth year, and the halcyon time of peace evidentlyfollowed immediately on the religious reformation at its verybeginning.

Asa's experience embodies a truth which is substantially fulfilled innations and in individuals; for obedience brings rest, often outwardtranquillity, always inward calm. Note the heightened earnestnessexpressed in the repetition of the expression 'We have sought theLord' in verse 7, and the grand assurance of His favour as the sourceof well-being in the clause which follows, 'and He hath given us reston every side.' That is always so, and will be so with us. If we seekHim with our whole hearts, keeping Him ever before us amid thedistractions of life, taking Him as our aim and desire, and everstretching out the tendrils of our hearts to feel after Him and claspHim, all around and within will be tranquil, and even in warfare weshall preserve unbroken peace.

Asa teaches us, too, the right use of tranquillity. He clearly andgratefully recognised God's hand in it, and traced it not to his ownwarlike skill or his people's prowess, but to Him. And he used thetime of repose to strengthen his defences, and exercise his soldiersagainst possible assaults. We do not yet dwell in the land of peace,where it is safe to be without bolts and bars, but have ever to be onthe watch for sudden attacks. Rest from war should give leisure forbuilding not only fortresses, but temples, as was the case withSolomon. The time comes when, as in many an ancient fortified city ofEurope, the ramparts may be levelled, and flowers bloom where sentrieswalked; but to-day we have to be on perpetual guard, and look to ourfortifications, if we would not be overcome.

ASA'S PRAYER

'And Asa cried unto the Lord his God, and said, Lord, it is nothingwith Thee to help, whether with many, or with them that have no power:help us, O Lord our God; for we rest on Thee, and in Thy Name we goagainst this multitude. O Lord, Thou art our God; let not man prevailagainst Thee.'—2 CHRON. xiv. 11.

This King Asa, Rehoboam's grandson, had had a long reign of peace,which the writer of the Book of Chronicles traces to the fact that hehad rooted out idolatry from Judah, 'The land had rest, and he no war… because the Lord had given him rest.'

But there came a time when the war-cloud began to roll threateninglyover the land, and a great army—the numbers of which, from theirimmense magnitude, seem to be erroneously given—came up against him.Like a wise man he made his military dispositions first, and prayednext. He set his troops in order, and then he fell down on his knees,and spoke to God.

Now, it seems to me that this prayer contains the very essence of whatought to be the Christian attitude in reference to all the conditionsand threatening dangers and conflicts of life; and so I wish to runover it, and bring out the salient points of it, as typical of whatought to be our disposition.

I. The wholesome consciousness of our own impotence.

It did not take much to convince Asa that he had 'no power.' His army,according to the numbers given of the two hosts, was outnumbered twoto one; and so it did not require much reflection to say, 'We have nomight.' But although perhaps not so sufficiently obvious to us, astruly as in the case in our text, if we look fairly in the face ourduties, our tasks, our dangers, the possibilities of life and itscertainties, the more humbly we think of our own capacity, the morewisely we shall think about God, and the more truly we shall estimateourselves. The world says, 'Self-reliance is the conquering virtue';Jesus says to us, 'Self-distrust is the condition of all victory.' Andthat does not mean any mere shuffling off of responsibility from ourown shoulders, but it means looking the facts of our lives, and of ourown characters, in the face. And if we will do that, howeverapparently easy may be our course, and however richly endowed in mind,body, or estate we may be, if we all do that honestly, we shall findthat we each are like 'the man with ten thousand' that has to meet'the King that comes against him with twenty thousand'; and we shallnot 'desire conditions of peace' with our enemy, for that is not whatin this case we have to do, but we shall look about us, and not keepour eyes on the horizon, and on the levels of earth, but look up tosee if there is not there an Ally that we can bring into the field toredress the balance, and to make our ten as strong as the opposingtwenty. Zerah the Ethiopian, who was coming down on Asa, is said tohave had a million fighting-men at his back, but that is probably anerroneous figure, because Old Testament numbers are necessarily oftenunreliable. Asa had only half the number; so he said, 'What can I do?'And what could he do? He did the only thing possible, he'grasped at God's skirts, and prayed,' and that made all thedifference.

Now all that is true about the disproportion between the foes we haveto face and fight and our own strength. It is eminently true about usChristian people, if we are doing any work for our Master. You hearpeople say, 'Look at the small number of professing Christians in thiscountry, as compared with the numbers on the other side. What is theuse of their trying to convert the world?' Well, think of theassembled Christian people, for instance, of Manchester, on the mostcharitable supposition, and the shallowest interpretation of that word'Christian.' What are they among so many? A mere handful. If theChristian Church had to undertake the task of Christianising the worldby its own strength, we might well despair of success and stopaltogether. 'We have no might.' The disproportion both numerically andin all things that the world estimates as strength (which are many ofthem good things), is so great that we are in a worse case than Asawas. It is not two to one; it is twenty to one, or an even greaterdisproportion. But we are not only numerically weak. A multitude ofnon-effectives, mere camp followers, loosely attached, nominalChristians, have to be deducted from the muster-roll, and the few whoare left are so feeble as well as few that they have more than enoughto do in holding their own, to say nothing of dreaming of charging thewide-stretching lines of the enemy. So a profound self-distrust is ourwisdom. But that should not paralyse us, but lead to something better,as it led Asa.

II. Summoning God into the field should follow wholesomeself-distrust.

Asa uses a remarkable expression, which is, perhaps, scarcelyreproduced adequately in our Authorised Version: 'It is nothing withThee to help, whether with many or with them that have no power.' Itis a strange phrase, but it seems most probable that the suggestedrendering in the Revised Version is nearer the writer's meaning, whichsays, 'Lord! there is none beside Thee to help between the mighty andthem that have no power,' which to our ears is a somewhat cumbrous wayof saying that God, and God only, can adjust the difference betweenthe mighty and the weak; can redress the balance, and by the laying ofHis hand upon the feeble hand can make it strong as the mailed fist towhich it is opposed. If we know ourselves to be hopelesslyoutnumbered, and send to God for reinforcements, He will clash Hissword into the scale, and make it go down. Asa turns to God and says,'Thou only canst trim the scales and make the lighter of the two theheavier one by casting Thy might into it. So help us, O Lord our God!'

One man with God at his back is always in the majority; and, howevermany there may be on the other side, 'there are more that be with usthan they that be with them.' There is encouragement for peoplewho have to fight unpopular causes in the world, who have beenaccustomed to be in minorities all their days, in the midst of awicked and perverse generation. Never mind about the numbers; bringGod into the field, and the little band, which is compared in anotherplace in these historical Books to 'two flocks of kids' fronting theenemy, that had flowed all over the land, is in the majority. 'Godwith us'; then we are strong.

The consciousness of weakness may unnerve a man; and that is whypeople in the world are always patting each other on the back andsaying 'Be of good cheer, and rely upon yourself.' But theself-distrust that turns to God becomes the parent of a far morereliable self-reliance than that which trusts to men. My consciousnessof need is my opening the door for God to come in. Just as you alwaysfind the lakes in the hollows, so you will always find the grace ofGod coming into men's hearts to strengthen them and make themvictorious, when there has been the preparation of the loweredestimate of one's self. Hollow out your heart by self-distrust, andGod will fill it with the flashing waters of His strength bestowed.The more I feel myself weak, the more I am meant not to fold my handsand say, 'I never can do that thing; it is of no use my trying toattempt it, I may as well give it up'; but to say, 'Lord I there isnone beside Thee that can set the balance right between the mighty andhim that hath no strength.' 'Help me, O Lord my God!' Just as thoselittle hermit-crabs that you see upon the seashore, with soft bodiesunprotected, make for the first empty shell they can find, and housein that and make it their fortress, our exposed natures, ourunarmoured characters, our sense of weakness, ought to drive us toHim. As the unarmed population of a land invaded by the enemy packtheir goods and hurry to the nearest fortified place, so when I say tomyself I have no strength, let me say, 'Thou art my Rock, my Strength,my Fortress, and my Deliverer. My God, in whom I trust, my Buckler,and the Horn of my Salvation, and my high Tower.'

Now, there is one more word about this matter, and that is, the way bywhich we summon God into the field. Asa prays, 'Help us, O Lord ourGod! for we rest on Thee'; and the word that he employs for 'rest' isnot a very frequent one. It carries with it a very striking picture.Let me illustrate it by a reference to another case where it isemployed. It is used in that tragical story of the death of Saul, whenthe man that saw the last of him came to David and drew in a sentencethe pathetic picture of the wearied, wounded, broken-hearted,discrowned, desperate monarch, leaning on his spear. You canunderstand how hard he leaned, with what a grip he held it, and howheavily his whole languid, powerless weight pressed upon it. And thatis the word that is used here. 'We lean on Thee' as the wounded Saulleaned upon his spear. Is that a picture of your faith, my friend? Doyou lean upon God like that, laying your hand upon Him till every veinon your hand stands out with the force and tension of the grasp? Or doyou lean lightly, as a man that does not feel much the need of asupport? Lean hard if you wish God to come quickly. 'We rest on Thee;help us, O Lord!'

III. Courageous advance should follow self-distrust and summoning Godby faith.

It is well when self-distrust leads to confidence, when, as Charles
Wesley has it in his great hymn:

'… I am weak,
But confident in self-despair.'

But that is not enough. It is better when self-distrust and confidencein God lead to courage, and as Asa goes on, 'Help us, for we rely onThee, and in Thy name we go against this multitude.' Never mind thoughit is two to one. What does that matter? Prudence and calculation arewell enough, but there is a great deal of very rank cowardice and wantof faith in Christian people, both in regard to their own lives and inregard to Christian work in the world, which goes masquerading undermuch too respectable a name, and calls itself 'judicious caution' and'prudence.' There is little ever done by that, especially in theChristian course; and the old motto of one of the French republicansholds good; 'Dare! dare! always dare!' You have more on your side thanyou have against you, and creeping prudence of calculation is not thetemper in which the battle is won. 'Dash' is not always precipitateand presumptuous. If we have God with us, let us be bold in frontingthe dangers and difficulties that beset us, and be sure that He willhelp us.

IV. And now the last point that I would notice is this—theall-powerful plea which God will answer.

'Thou art my God, let not man prevail against Thee.' That prayercovers two things. You may be quite sure that if God is your God youwill not be beaten; and you may be quite sure that if you have madeGod's cause yours He will make your cause His, and again you will notbe beaten.

'Thou art our God.' 'It takes two to make a bargain,' and God and wehave both to act before He is truly ours. He gives Himself to us, butthere is an act of ours required too, and you must take the God thatis given to you, and make Him yours because you make yourselves His.And when I have taken Him for mine, and not unless I have, He is mine,to all intents of strength-giving and blessedness. When I can say,'Thou art my God, and it is impossible that Thou wilt deny Thyself,'then nothing can snap that bond; and 'neither life nor death, norangels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor thingsto come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature' can doit. But there is a creature that can, and that is I. For I canseparate myself from the love and the guardianship of God, andHe can say to a man, 'I am thy God,' and the man not answer,'Thou art my God.'

And then there is another plea here. 'Let not man prevail againstThee.' What business had Asa to identify his little kingdom and hisvictory with God's cause and God's conquest? Only this, that he hadflung himself into God's arms, and because he had, and was trying todo what God would have him do, he was quite sure that it was not Asabut Jehovah that the million of Ethiopians were fighting against.People warn us against the fanaticism of taking for granted that ourcause is God's cause. Well, we need the warning sometimes, but we maybe quite sure of this, that if we have made God's cause ours, He willmake our cause His, down to the minutest point in our daily lives.

And then, if thus we say in the depths of our hearts, and liveaccordingly, 'There is none other that fighteth for us, but only Thou,O God!' it will be with us as it was with Asa in the story before us,'the enemy fled, and could not recover themselves, for they weredestroyed before the Lord and before His hosts.'

THE SEARCH THAT ALWAYS FINDS

'They … sought Him with their whole desire; and He was found ofthem: and the Lord gave them rest round about.'—2 CHRON. xv. 15.

These words occur in one of the least familiar passages of the OldTestament. They describe an incident in the reign of Asa, who was thegrandson of Solomon's foolish son Rehoboam, and was consequently thethird king of Judah after the secession of the North. He had just wona great victory, and was returning with his triumphant army toJerusalem, when there met him a prophet, unknown otherwise, who pouredout fiery words, exhorting Asa and his people to cleave to God and tocast away their idols. Asa, encouraged by the prophetic words of thisbold speaker for God, screwed himself up, and was able to induce alsohis people, to effect a great religious reformation. He made a cleansweep of the idols, and gathered the sadly-dwindled nation together inJerusalem, where they renewed the covenant with the Lord God of theirfathers. The text sums up their work and its result. 'They sought Himwith their whole heart, and He was found of them; and the Lord gavethem rest round about.' The words express in simplest form what shouldbe the chief desire of our hearts and occupation of our lives, andwhat will then be our peaceful experience. We shall best bring outthese points if we take the words just as they lie, and consider theseeking, the finding which certainly crowns that seeking, and the restwhich ensues on finding God.

I. The seeking.

Now, of course, there is no doubt that what the chronicler meant todescribe by the phrase, 'seeking the Lord,' was largely the mereexternal acts of ritual worship, the superficial turning from idols toa purely external recognition of God as the God of Israel. But whilethere may have been nothing deeper than a change in the nominal objectof nominal worship, so far as many were concerned, no doubt a veryreal turning of heart to God underlay the external change in manyother cases, of which the destruction of idols and the renewedobservance of the form of Jehovah's worship were the consequence andsign. That turning of mind, will, and affection towards God must beours if we are to be among those wise and happy seekers who are sureto find that which—or rather Him whom—they seek and to rest in Himwhom they find. That search is not after a lost treasure, nor does itimply ignorance of where its object is to be found. We seek that whichwe know, and which we may be assured of finding. Therefore there needbe no tremors of uncertainty in our quest, and the blessedness of thesearch is as real as, though different from, the blessedness of thepossession which ends it. The famous saying which prefers the searchafter, to the possession of truth, is more proud than wise; but thecomparison which it institutes is so far true that there is a joy inthe aspiration after and the efforts towards truth only less joyousthan that which attends its attainment. But truth divorced from God isfinite and may pall, become familiar and lose its radiance, like agathered flower; and hence the preference for the search isintelligible though one-sided. But God does not pall, and the more wefind Him the more we delight in Him; the highest bliss is to find Him,the next highest is to seek Him; and, since seeking and finding Himare never wholly separate, these kindred joys blend their lights inthe experience of all His children.

But our text lays emphasis on the whole-heartedness of the people'sseeking of God. The search must be earnest and engaged in with thewhole energy of our whole being, if any blessing is to come from it.Why! one reason why the great mass of professing Christians make solittle of their religion is because they are only half-hearted in it.If you divide a river into two streams the force of each is less thanhalf the power of the original current; and the chances are that youwill make a stagnant marsh where there used to be a flowing stream.'All in all, or not at all,' is the rule for life, in all departments.It is the rule in daily business. A man that puts only half himself inhis profession or trade, while the other half of his wits is gonewoolgathering and dreaming, is predestined from all eternity to fail.The same is true about our religion. If you and I attend to it as akind of by-occupation; if we give the balance of our time and thesuperfluity of our energy, after we have done a hard day's work—say,an hour upon a Sunday—to seeking God, and devote all the rest of theweek to seeking worldly prosperity, it is no wonder if our religionlanguishes, and is mainly a matter of forms, as it is with such hostsof people that call themselves Christians.

Oh! dear brethren, I do believe there is more unconscious unreality inthe average Christian man's endeavour to be a better Christian thanthere is in almost anything else in the world:—

'One foot on sea, and one on shore,
To one thing constant never.'

That is why so many of us know nothing of a progressive strengtheningof our faith, and an increasing conquest of ourselves, and a firmergrasp of God, and a fuller realisation of the blessedness of walkingin His ways.

'They sought Him with all their heart.' That does not mean, remember,that there are to be no other desires, for it is a great mistake topit religion against other things which are meant to be itsinstruments and its helps. We are not required to seek nothing else inorder to seek God wholly. He demands no impossible and fantasticdetachment of ourselves from the ordinary and legitimate occupations,affections, and duties of human life, but He does ask that thedominant desire after Him should be powerful enough to express itselfthrough all our actions, and that we should seek for God in them, andfor them in God.

Whilst thus we are to give the right interpretation to thatwhole-heartedness in our seeking God, on which the text lays stress,do not let us forget that the one token of it which the text specifiesis, casting out our idols. There must be detachment if there is to beattachment. If some climbing plant, for instance, has twisted itselfround the unprofitable thorns in the hedge, the gardener, before hecan get it to go up the support that it is meant to encircle, hascarefully to detach it from the stays to which it has wantonly clung,taking care that in the process he does not break its tendrils anddestroy its power of growth. So, to train our souls to cleave to God,and to grow up round the great Stay that is provided for us, there isneeded, as an essential part of the process, the voluntary, conscious,conscientious, and constant guarding of ourselves from the vagranciesof our desires, which send out their shoots away from Him; and whenthe objects of these become idols, then there is nothing for it butthat, like Asa and his people, we should hew them to pieces and make abonfire of them; and then renew our covenant before God. I desire topress that upon you and upon myself. The heart must be emptied ofbaser liquors, if the new wine of the Kingdom is to be poured into it.

True it is, of course—and thank God for it!—that the most powerfulagent in effecting that detachment of ourselves from lower things isour fruition of higher. It is when God comes into the temple thatDagon falls on the threshold. It is when a new affection begins tospring in the heart that old loves are thrust out of it. But whilstthat is true, it is also true that the two processes run onsimultaneously; and that whilst, on the one hand, if we are ever toovercome our love of the world it must be through the love of God, onthe other hand, if we are ever to be confirmed in a whole-hearted loveof God, it must be through our conquest of our love of the world.'Unite my heart to fear Thy name' was the profound prayer of the oldPsalmist; and the 'heart,' according to Old Testament usage, is thecentral fountain from which flow all the streams of conscious life. Toseek Him with the whole heart is to engage the whole self in thequest, and that is the only kind of seeking which has the certainty ofsuccess.

II. The finding which crowns such seeking.

'He was found of them.' Yes; anything is possible rather than that awhole-hearted search after God should be a vain search. For there are,in that case, two seekers—God is seeking for us more truly than weare seeking for Him. And if the mother is seeking her child, and thechild its mother, it will be a very wide desert where they will notmeet. 'The Father seeketh such to worship Him,' that is—the divineactivity is going about the world, searching for the heart that turnsto Him, and it cannot but be that they that seek Him shall find Him,or 'shall be found of Him.' Open the windows, and you cannot keep outthe sunshine; open your lungs and you cannot keep out the air. 'In Himwe live and move and have our being,' and if our desires turn, howeverblindly, to Him, and are accompanied with the appropriate action,heaven and earth are more likely to rush to ruin than such a searchingto be frustrated of its aim.

Brethren! is there anything else in the world of which you can say,'Seek, and ye shall find'? You, with white hairs on your heads, haveyou found anything else in which the chase was sure to result in thecapture; in which capture was sure to yield all that the hunter hadwished? There is only one direction for a man's desires and aims, inwhich disappointment is an impossibility. In all other regions themost that can be promised is 'Seek, and perhaps you will find';and, when you have found, perhaps you will feel that the prize was notworth the finding. Or it is, 'Seek, and possibly you will find;and after you have found and kept for a little while, you will lose.'Though it may be

'Better to have loved and lost,
Than never to have loved at all,'

a treasure that slips out of our fingers is not the best treasure thatwe can search for. But here the assurance is, 'Seek, and yeshall find; and shall never lose. Find, and you shall alwayspossess.'

What would you think of a company of gold-seekers, hunting about insome exhausted claim, for hypothetical grains, ragged, starving—andall the while in the next gully were lying lumps of gold for thepicking up? And that figure fairly represents what people do andsuffer who seek for good and do not seek for God.

III. The rest which ensues on finding God.

'The Lord gave them rest round about.' We believe that the Jewishnation was under special supernatural guidance, so that nationaladherence to the Law was always followed by external prosperity. Thatis not, of course, the case with us. But which is the better thing,'rest round about' or rest within? We have no immunity from toil orconflict. Seeking God does not cover our heads from the storm ofexternal calamities, nor arm our hearts against the darts and daggersof many a pain, anxiety, and care, but disturbance around is a verysmall matter if there be a better thing, rest within.

Do you remember who it was that said, 'In the world ye shall havetribulation … but in Me ye shall have peace'? Then we have, as itwere, two abodes—one, as far as regards the life of sense, in theworld of sense—another, as far as regards the inmost self, which may,if we will, be in Christ. A vessel with an outer casing and a layer ofair between it and the inner will keep its contents hot. So we mayhave round us the very opposite of repose, and, if God so wills, letus not kick against His will; we may have conflict and stir andstrife, and yet a better rest than that of my text may be ours. 'Restround about' is sometimes good and sometimes bad. It is often bad, forit is the people that 'have no changes' who most usually 'do not fearGod.' But rest within, that is sure to come when a man has sought withall his desire for God, whom he has found in all His fullness, is onlygood and best of all.

We all know, thank God! in worldly matters and in inferior degree, howblessed and restful it is when some strong affection is gratified,some cherished desire fulfilled. Though these satisfactions are notperpetual, nor perfect, they may teach us what a depth of blessed andcalm repose, incapable of being broken by any storms or by any tasks,will come to and abide with the man whose deepest love is satisfied inGod, and whose most ardent desires have found more than they soughtfor in Him. Be sure of this, dear friends! that if we do thus seek,and thus find, it is not in the power of anything 'that is at enmitywith joy' utterly to 'abolish or destroy' the quietness of our hearts.'Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for Him.' They who thus reposewill have peace in their hearts, even whilst tasks and temptations,changes and sorrows, disturb their outward lives. 'In the world yeshall have tribulation.' Be it so; it may be borne with submission andthankfulness if in Christ we have peace.

Thus we may have the peace of God, rest in and from Him, entering intous, and in due time, by His gracious guidance and help, we shall enterinto eternal rest. Whilst to seek is to find Him, in a very deep andblessed sense, even in this life; in another aspect all our earthlylife may be regarded as seeking after Him, and the future as the truefinding of Him. That future will bring to those whose hearts haveturned from the shows and vanities of time to God a possession of Himso much fuller than was experienced here that the lesser discoveriesand enjoyments of Him which are experienced here, scarcely deserve incomparison to be called by the same name. So my text may be taken, asin its first part, a description of the blessed life here—'Theysought Him with all their heart'—and in its second, as a shadowyvision of the yet more blessed life hereafter, 'He was found of them,and the Lord gave them rest round about,' as well as within, in theland of peace, where sorrow and sighing, and toil and care, shall passfrom memory; and they that warred against us shall be far away.

JEHOSHAPHAT'S REFORM

'And Jehoshaphat his son reigned in his stead, and strengthenedhimself against Israel. 2. And he placed forces in all the fencedcities of Judah, and set garrisons in the land of Judah, and in thecities of Ephraim, which Asa his father had taken. 3. And the Lord waswith Jehoshaphat, because he walked in the first ways of his fatherDavid, and sought not unto Baalim; 4. But sought to the Lord God ofhis father, and walked in His commandments, and not after the doingsof Israel. 5. Therefore the Lord established the kingdom in his hand;and all Judah brought to Jehoshaphat presents; and he had riches andhonour in abundance. 6. And his heart was lifted up in the ways of theLord: moreover he took away the high places and groves out of Judah.7. Also in the third year of his reign he sent to his princes, even toBen-hail, and to Obadiah, and to Zechariah, and to Nethaneel, and toMichaiah, to teach in the cities of Judah. 8. And with them he sentLevites, even Shemaiah, and Nethaniah, and Zebadiah, and Asabel, andShemiramoth, and Jehonathan, and Adonijah, and Tobijah, andTobadonijah, Levites: and with them Elishama and Jehoram, priests. 9.And they taught in Judah, and had the book of the law of the Lord withthem, and went about throughout all the cities of Judah, and taughtthe people. 10. And the fear of the Lord fell upon all the kingdoms ofthe lands that were round about Judah, so that they made no waragainst Jehoshaphat.'—2 CHRON. xvii. 1-10.

The first point to be noted in this passage is that Jehoshaphatfollowed in the steps of Asa his father. Stress is laid on hisadherence to the ancestral faith, 'the first ways of his fatherDavid,'—before his great fall,—and the paternal example, 'he soughtto the God of his father.' Such carrying on of a predecessor's work israre in the line of kings of Judah, where father and son were seldomof the same mind in religion. The principle of hereditary monarchysecures peaceful succession, but not continuity of policy. Many a kingof Judah had to say in his heart what Ecclesiastes puts into Solomon'smouth, 'I hated all my labour, … seeing that I must leave it untothe man that shall be after me. And who knoweth whether he shall be awise man or a fool?'

But it is not only in kings' houses that that experience is realised.Many a home is saddened to-day because the children do not seek theGod of their fathers. 'Instead of the fathers' should 'come up thychildren'; but, alas! grandmother Lois and mother Eunice do not alwayssee the boy who has known the Scriptures from a child grow up into aTimothy, in whom their unfeigned faith lives again. The neglect ofreligious instruction in professedly Christian families, theinconsistent lives of parents or their too rigid restraints, or,sometimes, their too lax discipline, are to be blamed for many suchcases. But there are many instances in which not the parents, but thechildren, are to be blamed. An earnest Sunday-school teacher may domuch to lead the children of godly parents to their father's God.Blessed is the home where the golden chain of common faith bindshearts together, and family love is elevated and hallowed by commonlove of God!

Jehoshaphat's religion was, further, resolutely held in the face ofprevailing opposition. 'The Baalim' were popular; it was fashionableto worship them. They were numerous, and all varieties of taste couldfind a Baal to please them. But this young king turned from thetempting ways that opened flower-strewn before him, and chose thenarrow road that led upwards. 'So did not I, because of the fear ofGod,' might have been his motto. A similar determined setting of ourfaces God-ward, in spite of the crowd of tempting false deities aroundus, must mark us, if we are to have any religion worth calling by thename. This king recoiled from the example of the neighbouringmonarchy, and walked 'not after the doings of Israel.' His seeking toGod was very practical, for it was not shown simply by professedbeliefs or by sentiment, but by ordering his life in obedience toGod's will. The test of real religion is, after all, a life unlike thelives of the men who do not share our faith, and moulded in accordancewith God's known will. It is vain to allege that we are seeking theLord unless we are walking in His commandments.

Prosperity followed godliness, in accordance with the divinelyappointed connection between them which characterised the OldDispensation. 'Prosperity is the blessing of the Old Testament;adversity is the blessing of the New,' says Bacon. But the epigram istoo neat to be entirely true, for the Book of Job and many a psalmshow that the eternal problem of suffering innocence was raised byfacts even in the old days, and in our days there are forms ofwell-being which are the natural fruits of well-doing. Still, theconnection was closer in Judah than with us, and, in the case beforeus, the establishment of Jehoshaphat in the kingdom, his subjects'love, which showed itself in voluntary gifts over and above the taxesimposed, and his wealth and honour, were the direct results of histrue religion.

A really devout man must be a propagandist. True faith cannot be hidnor be dumb. As certainly as light must radiate must faith strive tocommunicate itself. So the account of Jehoshaphat's efforts to spreadthe worship of Jehovah follows the account of his personal godliness.'His heart was lifted up in the ways of the Lord.' There are two kindsof lifted-up hearts; one when pride, self-sufficiency, andforgetfulness of God, raise a man to a giddy height, from which God'sjudgments are sure to cast him down and break him in the fall; onewhen a lowly heart is raised to high courage and devotion, and 'set onhigh,' because it fears God's name. Such elevation is consistent withhumility. It fears no fall; it is an elevation above earthly desiresand terrors, neither of which can reach it, so as to hinder the manfrom walking in 'the ways of the Lord.' This king was lifted to it byhis happy experience of the blessed effects of obedience. Theseencouraged him to vigorous efforts to spread the religion which hadthus gladdened and brightened his own life. Is that the use we make ofthe ease which God gives us?

Jehoshaphat had to destroy first, in order to build up. The 'highplaces and Asherim' had to be taken out of Judah before the trueworship could be established there. So it is still. The Christian hasto carry a sword in the one hand, and a trowel in the other. Many arotten old building, the stones of which have been cemented in blood,has to be swept away before the fair temple can be reared. The Devilis in possession of much of the world, and the lawful owner has todispossess the 'squatter.' No one can suppose that society isorganised on Christian principles even in so-called 'Christiancountries'; and there is much overturning work to be done before Hewhose right it is to reign is really king over the whole earth. We,too, have our 'high places and Asherim' to root out.

But that destructive work is not to be done by force. Institutions canonly be swept away when public opinion has grown to see their evils.Forcible reformations of manners, and, still more, of religion, neverlast, but are sure to be followed by violent rebounds to the oldorder. So, side by side with the removal of idolatry, this king tookcare to diffuse the knowledge of the true worship, by sending out abody of influential commissioners to teach in Judah. That was a newdeparture of great importance. It presents several interestingfeatures. The composition of the staff of instructors is remarkable.The principal men in it are five court officers, next to whom, andsubordinate, as is shown not only by the order of enumeration, but bythe phrase 'with them,' were nine Levites, and, last and lowest ofall, two priests. We might have expected that priests should be themost numerous and important members of such a body, and we are led tosuspect that the priesthood was so corrupted as to be careless aboutreligious reformation. A clerical order is not always the most ardentin religious revival. The commissioners were probably chosen, withoutregard to their being priests, Levites, or 'laymen,' because of theirzeal in the worship of Jehovah; and the five 'princes' head the listin order to show the royal authority of the commission.

Another point is the emphasis with which their function of teaching isthrice mentioned in three verses. Apparently the bulk of the nationknew little or nothing of 'the law of the Lord,' either on itsspiritual and moral or its ceremonial side; and Jehoshaphat's objectwas to effect an enlightened, not a forcible and superficial, change.God's way of influencing actions is to reveal Himself to theunderstanding and the heart, that these may move the will, and thatmay shape the deeds. Wise men will imitate God's way. Jehoshaphat didnot issue royal commands, but sent out teachers. In chapter xix. wefind him despatching 'judges' in similar fashion throughout Judah.They had the power to punish, but these teachers had only authority toexplain and to exhort.

The present writer accepts the chronicler's statement that theteachers had 'the Book of the Law' with them, though he recognises itas possible that that 'Book' was not identical with the completecollection of documents which now bears the name. But, be that as itmay, the incident of our text is remarkable as being the only recordedsystematic and complete attempt to diffuse the remedy against idolatrythroughout the kingdom, as putting religious reformation on its onlysure ground, and as hinting at deep and widespread ignorance among themasses.

'When a man's ways please the Lord, He maketh even his enemies to beat peace with him.' So Judah found. 'A terror of the Lord fell uponall the kingdoms' around. No doubt, the news filtered to them of howJehovah was exerting His might on the nation, and a certainindefinable awe of this so potent god, who was defeating the Baalim,made them think that peace was the best policy. Each nation wassupposed to have its own god, and the national god was supposed tofight for his worshippers; so that war was a struggle of deities aswell as of men, and the stronger god won. Here was a god who hadreconquered his territory, and had cast out usurpers. Prudencedictated keeping on good terms with him. But it never occurred to anyof these peoples that their own gods were any less real than Judah's,or that Judah's God could ever become theirs.

AMASIAH

'Amasiah, the son of Zichri, who willingly offered himself unto the
Lord.'—1 CHRON. xvii, 16.

This is a scrap from the catalogue of Jehoshaphat's 'mighty men ofvalour'; and is Amasiah's sole record. We see him for a moment andhear his eulogium and then oblivion swallows him up. We do not knowwhat it was that he did to earn it. But what a fate, to live to allgenerations by that one sentence!

I. Cheerful self-surrender the secret of all religion.

The words of our text contain a metaphor naturally drawn from thesacrificial system. It comes so easily to us that we scarcelyrecognise the metaphorical element, but the clear recognition of itgives great additional energy to the words. Amasiah was bothsacrificer and sacrifice. His offering was self-immolation. As in alllove, so in that noblest kind of it which clasps God, its perfectexpression is, 'I give Thee my living, loving self.' Nor is it onlysacrifice and sacrificer that are seen in deepest truth in theexperience of the Christian life, but the reality of the Temple isalso there, for 'Ye also … are built up a spiritual house, to be aholy priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices.' Only when Goddwells in us, shall we have the nerve and the firmness of hand to takethe knife and 'slay before the Lord,' the awful Guest in the sanctuarywithin, the most precious of the children of our spirits.

The essence of the sacrifice of self is the sacrifice of will. In theChristian experience 'willingly offered' is almost tautology, forunwilling offerings are a contradiction and in fact there are no suchthings. The quality of unwillingness destroys the character of theoffering and robs it of all sacredness. Reluctant Christianity is notChristianity. That noun and that adjective can never be buckledtogether.

The submission of will and the consequent surrender of myself and mypowers, opportunities, and possessions, so that I do all, enjoy all,use all, and when need is, endure all with glad thankful reference toGod is only possible to me in the measure in which my will is madeflexible by love, and such will-subduing love comes only when we 'knowand believe the love that God hath to us.' There is the point at whichnot a few moral and religious teachers go wrong and bewilderthemselves and their disciples. There, too, is the point at whichChrist and the Gospel of salvation through faith in Him stand forth asemancipating humanity from the dreary round of efforts and vainattempts to work up the condition needful for achieving the height ofself-surrender, which is seen to be indispensable to all truenobleness of living, but is felt to be beyond the reach of theordinary man. There, too, is the point at which many good people martheir lives as Christians. They waste their strength in trying tobring the jibbing horse up to the leap. They try to blow up a fire ofdevotion and to make themselves priests to offer themselves, but allthe while the mutinous self recoils from the leap, and the fire burnssmokily, and their sacrifice is laid on the altar with little joy,because they have not been careful and wise enough to begin at thebeginning and to follow God's way of melting their wills, by love, thereflection of the Infinite love of God to them. God's priests offerthemselves because they offer their wills; they offer their willsbecause they love God; they love God because they know that God lovesthem. That is the divine order. It is vain to try to accomplish theend by any other.

II. This willing offering hallows all life.

No syllable is left to tell us what Amasiah did to win this praise.Probably the words enshrine some now forgotten memory of his cheerfulcourage, some heroic feat on an unrecorded battlefield. Particularsare not given nor needed. Specific actions are unimportant; the spiritof a life can be told with very incomplete details, and it, not thedetails, is the important thing. Sometimes, as in many modernbiographies, one 'cannot see the wood for the trees,' and misses themain drift and aim of a life in the chaos of a bewildering mass ofnothings. How much more happy the lot of this man of whom we have onlythe generalised expression of the text, unweighted and undisturbed bypetty incidents! It takes tons of rose leaves to make a tiny phial ofotto of roses, but the fragrance is far more pungent in a drop of thedistillation than in armfuls of leaves. Every life shrinks into verysmall compass, and the centuries do not tolerate long biographies.Shall we not seek to order our life so that Amasiah's epitaph mayserve for us? It will be blessed if this—and nothing else—is knownabout us, that we 'willingly offered ourselves to the Lord.' Myfriend: will that be a true epitome of your life?

III. This willing offering is accepted by God.

We may hear a mightier voice behind the chronicler's, and the judgmentof the Judge of all pronounced by His lips. It matters little what mensay of one another, but it matters everything what God says of us. Weare but too apt to forget that He is now saying something as to eachof us, and that we have not to wait for death to put a final period toour activities, before our lives become fit subjects for God'sjudgment, Moment by moment we are writing our own sentences. But whileit is good for us to remember the continuous judgment of God on eachdeed, it is not good to let dark thoughts of the principles of thatjudgment paralyse our activity or chill our confidence in Hisforgiving and accepting mercy. There is often a dark suspicion, likethat of the one-talented servant, which blackens God's fair fame asbeing 'an austere Man,' making demands rather than imparting power,and the effect of such an ugly conception of Him is to cut the nerveof service and bury the talent, carefully folded up, it may be, butnone the less earning nothing. 'If we call on Him as Father, whowithout respect of persons judgeth according to every man's work,' letus be sure that it will be a Fatherly judgment that He will pass uponus and our offerings. There is a wonderful collection on His altar ofwhat many people would think rubbish, just as many a mother has laidaway among her treasures some worthless article which her child hadonce given her—a weed plucked by the roadside in a long past summerday, some trifle of rare preciousness in the child's eyes, and of nonein any others than her own. She opens her drawer and brings out thepoor little thing, and her eyes fill and her heart fills as she looks.And does not God keep His children's gifts as lovingly, and set themin places of honour in the day when He 'makes up His jewels'? Thereare cups of cold water and widows' mites and much else that asupercilious world would call 'trash' stored there. Thank God! Heaccepts imperfect service, faltering faith, partial consecration, alittle love. Even our poor offering may be an 'odour of a sweetsmell,' ministering fragrance that is a delight to Him, if it isoffered with the much incense of the great Sacrifice and through themediation of the great High Priest.

The world forgot Amasiah, or never knew him, an obscure soldier in anobscure kingdom, but God did not forget, and here is his epitaph, andthis is his memorial to all generations. Men's chronicles have no roomfor all the names that their wearers are eager to have inscribed ontheir crumbling and crowded pages, 'but the Lamb's Book of Life' hasample space on its radiant pages for all who desire to set their namesthere, and if ours are there, we need not envy the proudest whosetitles and deeds fill the most conspicuous pages in the world'srecords. 'Then shall every man have praise of Christ,' and he who winsthat guerdon needs nothing more, and can have nothing more to swellhis blessedness.

'A MIRROR FOR MAGISTRATES'

'And Jehoshaphat the king of Judah returned to his house in peace toJerusalem. 2. And Jehu the son of Hanani the seer went out to meethim, and said to king Jehoshaphat, Shouldest thou help the ungodly,and love them that hate the Lord? therefore is wrath upon thee frombefore the Lord. 3. Nevertheless there are good things found in thee,in that thou hast taken away the groves out of the land, and hastprepared thine heart to seek God. 4. And Jehoshaphat dwelt atJerusalem: and he went out again through the people from Beer-sheba tomount Ephraim, and brought them back unto the Lord God of theirfathers. 5. And he set judges in the land throughout all the fencedcities of Judah, city by city. 6. And said to the judges, Take heedwhat ye do: for ye judge not for man, but for the Lord, who is withyou in the judgment. 7. Wherefore now let the fear of the Lord be uponyou; take heed and do it: for there is no iniquity with the Lord ourGod, nor respect of persons, nor taking of gifts. 8. Moreover inJerusalem did Jehoshaphat set of the Levites, and of the priests, andof the chief of the fathers of Israel, for the judgment of the Lord,and for controversies, when they returned to Jerusalem. 9. And hecharged them, saying, Thus shall ye do in the fear of the Lord,faithfully, and with a perfect heart. 10. And what cause soever shallcome to you of your brethren that dwell in their cities, between bloodand blood, between law and commandment, statutes and judgments, yeshall even warn them that they trespass not against the Lord, and sowrath come upon you, and upon your brethren: this do, and ye shall nottrespass. 11. And, behold, Amariah the chief priest is over you in allmatters of the Lord; and Zebadiah the son of Ishmael, the ruler of thehouse of Judah, for all the king's matters: also the Levites shall beofficers before you. Deal courageously, and the Lord shall be with thegood.'—2 CHRON. XIX. 1-11.

Jehoshaphat is distinguished by two measures for his people's good:one, his sending out travelling preachers through the land (2 Chron.xvii. 7-9); another, this provision of local judges and a centralcourt in Jerusalem. The former was begun as early as the third year ofhis reign, but was probably interrupted, like other good things, byhis ill-omened alliance with Ahab. The prophet Jehu's plain speakingseems to have brought the king back to his better self, and its fruitwas his going 'among the people,' from south to north, as amissionary, 'to bring them back to Jehovah.' The religious reformationwas accompanied by his setting judges throughout the land. Our modernway of distinguishing between religious and civil concerns is foreignto Eastern thought, and was especially out of the question in atheocracy. Jehovah was the King of Judah; therefore the things thatare Caesar's and the things that are God's coalesced, and these twoobjects of Jehoshaphat's journeyings were pursued simultaneously. Wehave travelled far from his simple institutions, and our course hasnot been all progress. His supreme concern was to deal out even-handedjustice between man and man; is not ours rather to give ample doses oflaw? To him the judicial function was a copy of God's, and itsexercise a true act of worship, done in His fear, and modelled afterHis pattern. The first impression made in one of our courts isscarcely that judge and counsel are engaged in worship.

There had been local judges before Jehoshaphat—elders in thevillages, the 'heads of the fathers' houses' in the tribes. We do notknow whether the great secession had flung the simple old machinerysomewhat out of gear, or whether Jehoshaphat's action was simply tosystematise and make universal the existing arrangements. But whatconcerns us most is to note that all the charge which he gives tothese peasant magistrates bears on the religious aspect of theirduties. They are to think themselves as acting for Jehovah and withJehovah. If they recognise the former, they may be confident of thelatter. They are to 'let the fear of Jehovah be upon you,' for thatawe resting on a spirit will, like a burden or water-jar on a woman'sshoulder, make the carriage upright and the steps firm. They are notonly to act for and with Jehovah, but to do like Him, avoidinginjustice, favouritism, and corruption, the plague-spots of Easternlaw-courts. In such a state of society, the cases to be adjudicatedwere mostly such as mother-wit, honesty and the fear of God couldsolve; other times call for other qualifications. But still, let uslearn from this charge that even in our necessarily complicated legalsystems and political life, there is room and sore need for theapplication of the same principles. What a different world it would beif our judges and representatives carried some tincture ofJehoshaphat's simple and devout wisdom into their duties! Civic andpolitical life ought to be as holy as that of cloister and cell. Tojudge righteously, to vote honestly, is as much worship as to pray. Apolitician may be 'a priest of the Most High God.'

And for us all the spirit of Jehoshaphat's charge is binding, andevery trivial and secular task is to be discharged for God, with God,in the fear of God. 'On the bells of the horses shall be Holiness untoJehovah.' If our religion does not drive the wheels of daily life, somuch the worse for our life and our religion. But, above all, thischarge reminds us that the secret of right living is to imitate God.These peasants were to find direction, as well as inspiration, ingazing on Jehovah's character, and trying to copy it. And we are to be'imitators of God, as beloved children,' though our best efforts mayonly produce poor results. A masterpiece may be copied in somewretched little newspaper blotch, but the great artist will own it fora copy, and correct it into complete likeness.

The second step was to establish a 'supreme court' in Jerusalem, whichhad two divisions, ecclesiastical and civil, as we should say, theformer presided over by the chief priest, and the latter by 'the rulerof the house of Judah.' Murder cases and the graver questionsinvolving interpretation of the law were sent up thither, while thevillage judges had probably to decide only points that shrewdness andintegrity could settle. But these superior judges, too, receivedcharges as to moral, rather than intellectual or learnedqualifications. Religiously, uprightly, 'with a perfect heart,'courageously, they were to act, 'and Jehovah be with the good!' Thatmay be a prayer, like the old invocation with which heralds sentknights to tilt at each other, and with which, in some legalproceedings, the pleas are begun, 'God defend the right!' But moreprobably it is an assurance that God will guide the judges to favourthe good cause, if they on their parts will bring the aforesaidqualities to their decisions. And are not these qualities just such aswill, for the most part, give similar results to us, if in our variousactivities we exercise them? And may we not see a sequence worth ourpractically putting to the proof in these characteristics enjoined onJehoshaphat's supreme court? Begin with 'the fear of the Lord'; thatwill help us to 'faithfulness and a perfect heart'; and these again bytaking away occasions of ignoble fear, and knitting together the elsetremulous and distracted nature, will make the fearful brave and theweak strong.

But another thought is suggested by Jehoshaphat's language. Note howthis court does not seem to have inflicted punishments, but to havehad only counsels and warnings to wield. It was a board ofconciliation rather than a penal tribunal. Two things it had to do—topress upon the parties the weighty consideration that crimes againstmen were sins against God, and that the criminal drew down wrath onthe community. This remarkable provision brings out strongly thoughtsthat modern society will be the better for incorporating. The best wayto deal with men is to get at their hearts and consciences. The deeperaspect of civil crimes or wrongs to men should be pressed on the doer;namely, that they are sins against God. Again, all such acts are sinsagainst the mystical sacred bond of brotherhood. Again, the solidarityof a nation makes it inevitable that 'one sinner destroyeth muchgood,' and pulls down with him, when God smites him, a multitude ofinnocents. So finely woven is the web of the national life that, if athread run in any part of it, a great rent gapes. If one member sins,all the members suffer with it. And lastly, the cruellest thing thatwe can do is to be dumb when we see sin being committed. It is notpublic men, judges and the like, alone, who are called on thus to warnevil-doers, but all of us in our degree. If we do not, we are guiltyalong with a guilty nation; and it is only when, to the utmost of ourpower, we have warned our brethren as to national sins, that we canwash our hands in innocency, 'This do, and ye shall not be guilty.'

A STRANGE BATTLE

'We have no might against this great company that cometh against us;neither know we what to do: but our eyes are upon Thee.'—2 CHRON xx.12.

A formidable combination of neighbouring nations, of which Moab andAmmon, the ancestral enemies of Judah, were the chief, was threateningJudah. Jehoshaphat, the king, was panic-stricken when he heard of theheavy war-cloud that was rolling on, ready to burst in thunder on hislittle kingdom. His first act was to muster the nation, not as amilitary levy but as suppliants, 'to seek help of the Lord.' The enemywas camping down by the banks of the Dead Sea, almost within strikingdistance of Jerusalem. It seemed a time for fighting, not for praying,but even at that critical moment, the king and the men, whom it mighthave appeared that plain duty called to arms, were gathered in theTemple, and, hampered by their wives and children, were praying. Wouldthey not have done better if they had been sturdily marching throughthe wilderness of Judah to front their foes? Our text is the close andthe climax of Jehoshaphat's prayer, and, as the event proved, it wasthe most powerful weapon that could have been employed, for the restof the chapter tells the strangest story of a campaign that was everwritten. No sword was drawn. The army was marshalled, but Levites withtheir instruments of music, not fighters with their spears, led thevan, and as 'they began to sing and to praise,' sudden panic laid holdon the invading force, who turned their arms against each other. Sowhen Judah came to some rising ground, on which stood a watch-towercommanding a view over the savage grimness of 'the wilderness,' it sawa field of corpses, stark and stiff and silent. Three days were spentin securing the booty, and on the fourth, Jehoshaphat and his men'assembled themselves in the Valley of Blessing,' and thence returneda joyous multitude praising God for the victory which had been won forthem without their having struck a blow. The whole story may yieldlarge lessons, seasonable at all times. We deal with it, rather thanwith the fragment of the narrative which we have taken as our text.

I. We see here the confidence of despair.

Jehoshaphat's prayer had stayed itself on God's self-revelation inhistory, and on His gift of the land to their fathers. It had pleadedthat the enemy's hostility was a poor 'reward' for Israel's ancientforbearance, and now, with a burst of agony, it casts down before God,as it were, Judah's desperate plight as outnumbered by the swarm ofinvaders and brought to their last shifts—'we have no might againstthis great company … neither know we what to do.' But the very depthof despair sets them to climb to the height of trust. That is a mighty'But,' which buckles into one sentence two such antitheses as confrontus here. 'We know not what to do, but our eyes are upon Thee'—blessedis the desperation which catches at God's hand; firm is the trustwhich leaps from despair!

The helplessness is always a fact, though most of us manage to getalong for the most part without discovering it. We are all outnumberedand overborne by the claims, duties, hindrances, sorrows, andentanglements of life. He is not the wisest of men who, facing allthat life may bring and take away, all that it must bring and takeaway, knows no quiver of nameless fear, but jauntily professes himselfready for all that life can inflict. But there come moments in everylife when the false security in which shallow souls wrap themselvesignobly is broken up, and then often a paroxysm of terror or miserygrips a man, for which he has no anodyne, and his despair is asunreasonable as his security. The meaning of all circ*mstances thatforce our helplessness on us is to open to us Jehoshaphat's refuge inhis—'our eyes are upon Thee.' We need to be driven by the crowds offoes and dangers around to look upwards. Our props are struck awaythat we may cling to God. The tree has its lateral branches hewed offthat it may shoot up heavenward. When the valley is filled with mistand swathed in evening gloom, it is the time to lift our gaze to thepeaks that glow in perpetual sunshine. Wise and happy shall we be ifthe sense of helplessness begets in us the energy of a desperatefaith. For these two, distrust of self and glad confidence in God, arenot opposites, as naked distrust and trust are, but are complementary.He does not turn his eyes to God who has not turned them on himself,and seen there nothing to which to cling, nothing on which to lean.Astronomers tell us that there are double stars revolving round oneaxis and forming a unity, of which the one is black and the otherbrilliant. Self-distrust and trust in God are thus knit together andare really one.

II. We see here the peaceful assurance of victory that attends onfaith.

A flash of inspiration came to one of the Levitical singers who had,no doubt, been deeply moved and had unconsciously fitted himself forreceiving it. Divinely breathed confidence illuminated his waitingspirit, and a great message of encouragement poured from his lips. Hiswords heartened the host more than a hundred trumpets braying in theirears. How much one man who has drunk in God's assurance of victory cando to send a thrill of his own courage through more timorous hearts!Courage is no less contagious than panic. This Levite becomes thecommander of the army, and Jehoshaphat and his captains 'bow theirheads' and accept his plan for to-morrow, hearing in his ringingaccents a message from Jehovah. The instructions given and at onceaccepted are as unlike those of ordinary warfare as is the wholeincident; for there is to be no sword drawn nor blow struck, but theyare to 'stand still and see the salvation of the Lord.' They are toldwhere to find the enemy and are bid to go forth in order of battleagainst them, and they are assured 'that the battle is not theirs, butGod's.' No wonder that the message was hailed as from heaven, and putnew heart into the host, or that, when the messenger's voice ceased,his brother Levites broke into shrill praise as for a victory alreadywon. With what calm, triumphant hearts the camp would sleep thatnight!

May we not take that inspired Levite's message as one to ourselves inthe midst of our many conflicts both in the outward life and in theinward? If we have truly grasped God's hands, and are fighting forwhat is accordant with His will, we have a right to feel that 'thebattle is not ours but God's,' and to be sure that therefore we shallconquer. Of course we are not to say to ourselves, 'God will fight forus, and we need not strike a blow,' Jehoshaphat's example does not fitour case in that respect, and we may thank God that it does not. Wehave a better lot than to 'stand still and see the salvation of God,'for we are honoured by being allowed to share the stress of conflictand the glow of battle as well as in the shout of victory. But even inthe struggles of outward life, and much more in those of our spiritualnature, every man who watches his own career will many a time have torecognise God's hand, unaided by any act of his own, striking for himand giving him victory; and in the spiritual life every Christian manknows that his best moments have come from the initiation of theSpirit who 'bloweth where He listeth.' How often we have beensurprised by God's help; how often we have been quickened by God'sinbreathed Spirit, and have been taught that the passivity of faithdraws to us greater blessings than the activity of effort! 'They alsoserve who only stand and wait,' and they also conquer who in quietnessand confidence keep themselves still and let God work for them and inthem. The first great blessing of trust in God is that we may be atpeace on the eve of battle, and the second is that in every battle itis, in truth, not we that fight, but God who fights for and in us.

III. We learn here the best preparation for the conflict.

When the morning dawned, the array was set in order and the marchbegun, and a strange array it was. In the van marched the Templesingers singing words that are music to us still: 'Give thanks untothe Lord, for His mercy endureth for ever,' and behind them came theranks of Judah, no doubt swelling the volume of melody, that startledthe wild creatures of the wilderness, and perhaps travelled throughthe still morning as far as the camp of the enemy. The singers had noarmour nor weapons. They were clad in 'the beauty of holiness,' thepriestly dress, and for sword and spear they carried harps andtimbrels. Our best weapons are like their equipment.

We are most likely to conquer if we lift up the voice of thanks forvictory in advance, and go into the battle expecting to triumph,because we trust in God. The world's expectation of success is toooften a dream, a will-o'-the-wisp that tempts to bogs where thebeguiled victim is choked, though even in the world it is often true;'screw your courage to the sticking point, and we'll not fail.' Butfaith, that is the expectation of success based on God's help andinspiring to struggles for things dear to His heart, is wont to fulfilitself, and by bringing God into the fray, to secure the victory. Athankful heart not seldom brings into existence that for which it isthankful.

IV. We see here the victory and the praise for it.

The panic that laid hold on the enemy, and turned their swords againsteach other, was more natural in an undisciplined horde such as theseirregular levies of ancient times, than it would be in a modern army.Once started, the infection would spread, so we need not wonder thatby the time that Judah arrived on the field all was over. How often alike experience attends us! We quiver with apprehension of troublesthat never attack us. We dread some impending battlefield, and when wereach it, Jehoshaphat's surprise is repeated, 'and, behold they weredead bodies, fallen to the earth.' Delivered from foes and fears,Judah's first impulse was to secure the booty, for they were keenafter wealth, and their 'faith' was not very pure or elevating. Buttheir last act was worthier, and fitly ended the strange campaign.They gathered in some wady among the grim cliffs of the wilderness ofJudah, which broke the dreariness of that savage stretch of countrywith perhaps verdure and a brook, and there they 'blessed the Lord.'The chronicler gives a piece of popular etymology, in deriving thename, 'the valley of blessing,' from that morning's worship. Perhapsthe name was older than that, and was given from a feeling of thecontrast between the waste wilderness, which in its gaunt sterilityseemed an accursed land, and the glen which with its trees and streamwas indeed a 'valley of blessing.' If so, the name would be doublyappropriate after that day's experience. Be that as it may, here wehave in vivid form the truth that all our struggles and fightings mayend in a valley of blessing, which will ring with the praise of theGod who fights for us. If we begin our warfare with an appeal to God,and with prayerful acknowledgment of our own impotence, we shall endit with thankful acknowledgment that we are 'more than conquerorsthrough Him that loved us' and fought for us, and our choral song ofpraise will echo through the true Valley of Blessing, where no soundof enemies shall ever break the settled stillness, and the host of theredeemed, like that army of Judah, shall bear 'psalteries and harpsand trumpets,' and shall need spear and sword no more at all for ever.

HOLDING FAST AND HELD FAST

'As they went forth Jehoshaphat stood and said, Believe in the Lordyour God, so shall ye be established.'—2 CHRON. xx. 20.

Certainly no stronger army ever went forth to victory than these Jews,who poured out of Jerusalem that morning with no weapon in all theirranks, and having for their van, not their picked men, but singers who'praised the beauty of holiness,' and chanted the old hymn, 'Givethanks unto the Lord, for His mercy endureth for ever.' That was allthat men had to do in the battle, for as the shrill song rose in themorning air 'the Lord set liers in wait for the foe,' and they turnedtheir swords against one another, so that when Jehoshaphat and histroops came in sight of the enemy the battle was over and the fieldstrewn with corpses—so great and swift is the power of devoutrecognition of God's goodness and trust in His enduring mercy, even inthe hour of extremest peril.

The exhortation in our text which is Jehoshaphat's final word to hisarmy, has, in the original, a beauty and emphasis that are incapableof being preserved in translation. There is a play of words whichcannot be reproduced in another language, though the sentiment of itmay be explained. The two expressions for 'believing' and 'beingestablished' are two varying forms of the same root-word; and althoughwe can only imitate the original clumsily in our language, we mighttranslate in some such way as this: 'Hold fast by the Lord your God,and you will be held fast,' or 'stay yourselves on Him and you will bestable.' These attempts at reproducing the similarity of sound betweenthe two verbs in the two clauses of our text, rude as they are,preserve what is lost, so far as regards form, in the Englishtranslation, though that is correct as to the meaning of the commandand promise. If we note this connection of the two clauses we justcome to the general principle which lies here, that the true source ofsteadfastness in character and conduct, of victory over temptation,and of standing fast in slippery places, is simple reliance, or, touse the New Testament word, 'faith,' 'Believe and ye shall beestablished.' Put out your hand and clasp Him, and He puts out Hishand and steadies you. But all the steadfastness and strength comefrom the mighty Hand that is outstretched, not from the tremulous onethat grasps it.

So, then, keeping to the words of my text, let me suggest to you thelarge lessons that this saying teaches us, in regard to three things,which I may put as being the object, the nature, and the issues offaith; or, in other words, to whom we are to cling, how we are tocling, and what the consequence of the clinging is.

I. To whom we must cling.

'Stay yourselves on the Lord your God,' Well, then, faith is notbelieving a number of theological articles, nor is it even acceptingthe truth of the Gospel as it lies in Jesus Christ, but it isaccepting the Christ whom the truth of the Gospel reveals to us. And,although we have to come to Him through the word that declares what Heis, and what He has done for us, the act of believing on Him issomething that lies beyond the mere understanding of, or givingcredence to, the message that tells us who He is and what He has done.A man may have not the ghost of a doubt or hesitation about one tittleof revealed truth, and if you were to cross-question him, could answersatisfactorily all the questions of an orthodox inquisitor, and yetthere may not be one faintest flicker of faith in that man's wholebeing, for all the correctness of his creed, and the comprehensivenessof it, too. Trust is more than assent. If it is a Person on whom ourfaith leans, then from that there follows clearly enough that the bondwhich binds us to Him must be something far warmer, far deeper, andfar more under the control of our own will than the mere consent orassent of our brains to a set of revealed truths. 'The Lord your God,'and not even the Bible that tells you about Him; 'the Lord your God,'and not even the revealed truths that manifest Him, but Him asrevealed by the truths—it is He that is the Object to which our faithclings.

Jehoshaphat, in the same breath in which he exhorted his people to'believe in the Lord, that they might be established,' also said,'Believe His prophets, so shall ye prosper.' The immediate reference,of course, was to the man who the day before had assured them ofvictory. But the wider truth suggested is, that the only way to get toGod is through the word that speaks of Him, and which has come fromthe lips either of prophets or of the Son who has spoken more, andmore sweetly and clearly, than all the prophets put together. If weare to believe God, we must believe the prophets that tell us of Him.

And then there is another suggestion that may be made. The Object offaith proposed to Judah is not only 'the Lord,' but 'the Lordyour God.' I do not say that there can be no faith without the'appropriating' action which takes the whole Godhead for mine, but Idoubt very much whether there is any. And it seems to me that to avery large extent the difference between mere nominal, formalChristians and men who really are living by the power of faith in Godas revealed in Jesus Christ, lies in that one little word, 'the Lordyour God.' That a man shall put out a grasping hand, and say, 'I takefor my own—for my very own—the universal blessing, I claim as mypossession that God of the spirits of all flesh, I believe that Hedoes stand in a real individualising relation to me, and I to Him,' issurely of the very essence of faith. There is no presumption, but thetruest wisdom and lowliness in enclosing, if I may so say, a part ofthis great common for ours, and putting a hedge about it, as it were,and saying, 'That is mine.' We shall not have understood the sweetnessand the power of the Gospel of Jesus Christ until we have pointed andcondensed the general declaration, 'He so loved the world,' into theindividualising and appropriating one, 'He loved me, and gave Himselffor me.' Oh! if we could only apply that process thoroughly to all thebroad glorious words and promises of Scripture, and feel that thewhole incidence of them was meant to fall upon us, one by one, andthat just as the sun, up in the heavens there, sends all his beamsinto the tiniest daisy on the grass, as if there was nothing else inthe whole world, but only its little petals to be smoothed out andopened, I think our Christianity would be more real, and we shouldhave more blessings in our hands. God in Christ and I, the only twobeings in the universe, and all His fullness mine, and all my weaknesssupported and supplemented by Him—that is the view that we shouldsometimes take. We should set ourselves apart from all mankind, andclaim Him as our very own, and so be filled with the fullness of God.

This, then, is the Object of faith, a Person who is all mine and allyours too. The beam of light that falls on my eye falls on yours, andno man makes a sunbeam the smaller because he sees by it; and in likemanner we may each possess the whole of God for our very own property.

II. How we cling.

The metaphor, I suppose, is more eloquent than all explanations of it.'Believe in the Lord'; hold fast by Him with a tight grip, continuallyrenewed when it tends to slacken, as it surely will, and then you willbe established.

We might run out into any number of figurative illustrations. Look atthat little child beginning to learn to walk, how it fastens itslittle dimpled hands into its mother's apron, and so the tinytottering feet get a kind of steadfastness into them. Look at that manlying at the door of the Temple, who never had walked since hismother's womb, and had lain there for forty years, with his poor weakankles all atrophied by reason of their disuse. 'He held Peterand John.' Would not his grasp be tight? Would he not clasp theirhands as his only stay? He had not become accustomed to the astoundingmiracle of walking, nor learned to balance himself and accomplish thestill more astounding feat of standing steady. So he clutched at thetwo Apostles and was 'established.' Look at that man walking by aslippery path which he does not know, holding by the hand the guidewho is able to direct and keep him up. See this other in some wildstorm, with an arm round a steadfast tree-stem, to keep him from beingblown over the precipice, how he clings like a limpet to a rock. Andthat is how we are to hold on to God, with what would be despair if itwere not the perfection of confidence, with the clear sense that theonly thing between us and ruin is the strong Hand that we clasp.

And what do we mean by clasping God? I mean making daily efforts torivet our love on Him, and not to let the world, with all its delusiveand cloying sweets, draw us away from Him. I mean continual andstrenuous efforts to fix our thoughts upon Him, and not toallow the trivialities of life, or the claims of culture, or thenecessities of our daily position so to absorb our minds as thatthoughts of God are comparative strangers there, except, perhaps,sometimes on a Sunday, and now and then at the sleepy end, or thehalf-awake beginning, of a day. I mean continually repeated andstrenuous efforts to cleave to Him by the submission of ourwill, letting Him 'do what seemeth Him good,' and not liftingourselves up against Him, or perking our own inclinations, desires,and fancies in His face, as if we would induce Him to take them forHis guides! And I mean that we should try to commit our wayunto the Lord, 'to rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for Him.' Thesubmissive will which cleaves to God's commandments, the waiting heartthat clings to His love, the regulated thoughts that embrace Histruth, and the childlike confidence that commits its path toHim—these are the elements of that steadfast adherence to the Lordwhich shall not be in vain.

III. The blessed effects of this clinging to God.

'So shall ye be established.' That follows, as a matter of course. Theonly way to make light things stable is to fasten them to somethingthat is stable. And the only way to put any kind of calmness andfixedness, and yet progress—stability in the midst of progress, andprogress in the midst of stability—into our lives, is by keeping firmhold of God. If we grasp His hand, then a calm serenity will be ours.In the midst of changes, sorrows, losses, disappointments, we shallnot be blown about here and there by furious winds of fortune, norwill the heavy currents of the river of life sweep us away. We shallhave a holdfast and a mooring. And although, like some light-shipanchored in the Channel, we may heave up and down with the waves, weshall keep in the same place, and be steadfast in the midst ofmobility, and wholesomely mobile although anchored in the one spotwhere there is safety. As the issue of faith, of this throwing theresponsibility for ourselves upon God, there will be quietness ofheart, and continuance and persistence in righteousness, andsteadfastness of purpose and continuity of advancement in the divinelife. 'The law of the Lord is in his heart,' says one of the Psalms,'none of his steps shall slide.' The man who walks holding God's handcan put down a firm foot, even when he is walking in slippery places.There will be decision, and strength, and persistence of continuousadvance, in a life that derives its impulse and its motive power fromcommunion with God in Jesus Christ.

There will be victory, not indeed after the fashion of that in thisstory before us. In it, of course, men had to do nothing but 'standstill and see the salvation of God.' That is the law for us, in regardto the initial blessings of acceptance, and forgiveness, and thecommunication of the divine life from above. We have to be simplerecipients, and we have no co-operating share in that part of the workof our own salvation. But for the rest we have to help God. 'Work outyour own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God that workethin you.' But none the less, 'This is the victory that over-cometh theworld, even our faith,' and if we give heed to Jehoshaphat'scommandment, and go out to battle as his people did, with the love andtrust of God in our hearts, then we shall come back as they did, ladenwith spoil, and shall name the place which was the field of conflict'the valley of blessing,' and return to Jerusalem 'with psalteries,and harps, and trumpets,' and 'God will give us rest from all ourenemies round about us.'

JOASH

'And Joash did that which was right in the sight of the Lord all thedays of Jehoiada the priest…. 17. Now after the death of Jehoiadacame the princes of Judah, and made obeisance to the king. Then theking hearkened unto them.'—2 CHRON. xxiv. 2, 17.

Here we have the tragedy of a soul. Joash begins life well and for thegreater part of it remains faithful to his conscience and to his duty,and then, when outward circ*mstances change, he casts all behind him,forgets the past and commits moral suicide. It is the sad old story, abright commencement, an early promise all scattered to the winds. Itis a strange story, too. This seven-year-old king had been saved whenhis father had been killed, and that true daughter of Jezebel, as wellby nature as by blood, Athaliah, had murdered all his brothers andsisters, and made herself queen. He had been saved by the courage of awoman who might worthily stand by the side of Deborah and other Jewishheroines. By this woman, who was his aunt, he was hidden and broughtup in the Temple until, whilst yet a mere boy, he came to the throne,the High Priest Jehoiada, the husband of his aunt, being his guardianduring his nonage. He reigns well till the lad of seven becomes amature man of thirty or thereabouts, and then Jehoiada dies, full ofyears and honours, and they fitly lay him among the kings of Judah, aworthy resting-place for one who had 'done good in Israel.' And nowthe weakling on the throne is left alone without the strong arm toguide him and keep him right, and we read that 'the princes of Judahcame and made obeisance to him.' They take him on his weak side, and Idare say Jehoiada had been too true and too noble to do that, andthough we are not told what means they took to flatter and coax him,we see very plainly what they were conspiring to do, for we read that'they left the house of the Lord their God, the God of their fathers,and served groves and idols,' the groves here mentioned being symbolsof Ashtaroth the goddess of the Sidonians. And so all the past iswiped out and Joash takes his place amongst the apostates. The storyhas solemn lessons.

I. Note the change from loyal adhesion to apostasy.

The strong man on whom Joash used to lean was away, and the poor, weakking went just where the wicked princes led him. It was probably outof sheer imbecility that he passed from the worship of God to theacknowledgment and service of idols.

The first point that I would insist upon is a well-worn and familiarone, as I am well aware, but I urge it upon you, and especially uponthe younger portion of my audience. It is this, that there is notelling the amount of mischief that pure weakness of character maylead into. The worst men we come across in the Bible are not those whobegin with a deliberate intention of doing evil. They are weakcreatures, 'reeds shaken by the wind,' who have no power of resistingthe force of circ*mstances. It is a truth which every one's experienceconfirms, that the mother of all possible badness is weakness, andthat, not only as Milton's Satan puts it, 'To be weak is to bemiserable,' but that weakness is wickedness sooner or later. The manwho does not bar the doors and windows of his senses and his soulagainst temptation, is sure to make shipwreck of his life and in theend to become 'a fool.' There is so much wickedness lying round us inthis world that any man who lets himself be shaped and coloured bythat with which he comes in contact, is sure to go to the bad in thelong run. Where a man lays himself open to the accidents of time andcirc*mstances, the majority of these influences will be contrary towhat is right and good. Therefore, he must gather himself together andlearn to say 'No!' There is no foretelling the profound abysses intowhich a 'good, easy' nature, with plenty of high and pure impulses,perhaps, but which are written in water, may fall. 'Thou, therefore,young man! be strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus.' Learn tosay No! or else you will be sure to say Yes! in the wrong place, andthen down you will go, like this Joash whose goodness depended onJehoiada, and when he died, all the virtue that had characterised thislife hitherto was laid with him in the dust.

Let us learn from this story in the next place, how little power ofcontinuance there is in a merely traditional religion. Many of youcall yourselves Christian people mainly because other people do thesame. It is customary to respect and regard Christianity. You havebeen brought up in the midst of it. Our country is always considered aChristian land, and so, naturally, you tacitly accept the truth of areligion which is so influential. The lowest phase of this attitude isthat which seeks some advantage from a church connection, like thefoolish man in the Old Testament who thought he would do well becausehe had a Levite for his priest. Religion is the most personal thingabout a man. To become a Christian is the most personal act one canperform. It is a thing that a man has to do for himself, and howeverfriends and guides may help us in other matters, in trials andperplexities and difficulties, by their sympathy and experience, theyare useless here. A man has here to act as if there were no otherbeings in the universe but a solitary God and himself, and unless wehave ourselves done that act in the depths of our own personality, wehave not done it at all. If you young people are good, just becauseyou have pious parents who make you go to church or chapel on aSunday, and keep you out of mischief during the week, your goodness isa sham. One great result of personal Christianity is to make aminister, a teacher, a guide, superfluous, and when such an onebecomes so, his work has been successful and not till then. Unless youput forth for yourself the hand of faith and for yourself yield up thedevotion and love of your own heart, your religion is nought.

However much active effort about the outside of religion there may be,it is of itself useless. It is without bottom and without reality.Here we have Joash busy with the externals of worship and actuallydeceiving himself thereby. It was a great deal easier to make thatchest for contributions to a Temple Repairing Fund, and to get it wellfilled, and to patch up the house of the Lord, than for him to getdown on his knees and pray, and he may have thought that to be busyabout the house of God was to be devout. So it may be with manySunday-school teachers and Church workers. Their religion may be asmerely superficial and as little personal as this man's was. It is notfor me to say so about A, B, or C. It is for you to ask of yourselvesif it is so as to you. But I do say that there is nothing that maskshis own soul from a man more than setting him to do something forChristianity and God's Church, while in his inmost self he has not yetyielded himself to God.

I look around and I see the devil slaying his thousands by settingthem to work in Christian associations and leaving them no time tothink about their own Christianity. My brother! if the cap fits, gohome and put it on.

We see in Joash's life for how long a time a man may go on in thisself-delusion of external and barren service and never know it. Joashcame to the throne at the age of seven. Up till that age he had livedin the Temple in concealment. Until he was one and thirty he went onin a steady, upright course, never knowing that there was anythinghollow in his life. Apparently, Jehoiada's long life of one hundredand thirty years extended over the greater part of Joash's reign,during most of which he had Jehoiada to direct him and keep him right,and all this tragedy comes at the tag end of it.

So he went on apparently all right, like a tree that has become quitehollow, till during some storm it is blown down and falls with acrash, and it is seen that for years it has been only the skin of atree, bark outside, and inside—emptiness.

II. We come now to the second stage in the later life of Joash: Hisresistance to the divine pleading.

'And they left the house of the Lord God of their fathers, and servedgroves and idols, and wrath came upon Judah and Jerusalem for theirtrespass, yet He sent prophets to them to bring them again unto theLord.' He sent with endless pity, with long-suffering patience. Hewould not be put away, and as they increased the distance between Himand them, He increased His energies to bring them back. But theylifted themselves up, Joash and his princes, and with that strange,awful power of resisting the attraction of the divine pleading, andhardening their hearts against the divine patience—'they would not.'And then comes the affecting episode of the death of the high priestZechariah, who had succeeded to his father's place and likewise to hisheroism, and who, with the Spirit of God upon him, stands up andpointing out his wickedness, rebukes the fallen monarch for hisapostasy. Joash, doubtless stung to the quick by Zechariah's justreproaches, allowed the truculent princes to slay him in the court ofthe Temple, even between the very shrine and the altar.

What a picture we have here of the divine love which follows everywanderer with its pleadings and beseechings! It came to this manthrough the lips of a prophet. It comes to us all in daily blessings,sometimes in messages, like these poor words of mine. God will not letus ruin ourselves without pleading with us and wooing us to love Himand cling to Him. 'He rises up early' and daily sends us His messages,sometimes rebukes and voices in our conscience, sometimes sunset glowsand starry heavens lifting our thoughts above this low earth,sometimes sorrows that are meant to 'drive us to His breast,' andabove all, the 'Gospel of our salvation' in Christ, ever, in such aland as ours, sounding in our ears.

Still further, we see in Joash what a strange, awful strength ofobstinate resistance, a character weak as regards its resistance toman, can put forth against God. He never attempted to say 'No!' to theprinces of Judah, but he could say it again and again to his Father inheaven. He could not but yield to the temptations which were levelwith his eyes, and this poor creature, easily swayed by humanallurements and influences, could gather himself together, standing,as it were, on his little pin point, and say to God, 'Thou dost calland I refuse.' What a paradox, and yet repetitions of it are sittingin these pews, only half aware that it is about them that I amspeaking!

The ever-deepening evil which began with forsaking the house of theLord and serving Ashtaroth, ends with Joash steeping his hands inblood. The murder of Zechariah was beyond the common count of crimes,for it was a foul desecration of the Temple, an act of the blackestingratitude to the man who had saved his infant life, and put him onthe throne, an outrage on the claims of family connections, for Joashand Zechariah were probably blood relations. My brother! once get yourfoot upon that steep incline of evil, once forsake the path of what isgood and right and true, and you are very much like a climber whomisses his footing up among the mountain peaks, and down he slidestill he reaches the edge of the precipice and then in an instant isdashed to pieces at the bottom. Once put your foot on that slipperyslope and you know not where you may fall to.

III. Last comes the final scene: The retribution.

We have that picture of Zechariah, solemnly lifting up his eyes toheaven and committing his cause to God. 'The Lord look upon it andrequire it,' says the martyr priest in the spirit of the old Law. Thedying appeal was soon answered in the invasion of the Syrian army, acomparatively small company, into whose hands the Lord delivered avery great host of the Israelites. The defeat was complete, andpossibly Joash's 'great diseases,' of which the narrative speaks,refer to wounds received in the fight. The end soon comes, for two ofhis servants, neither of them Hebrews, one being the son of anAmmonitess and the other the son of a Moabitess, who were truer to hisreligion than he had been, and resolved to revenge Zechariah's death,entered the room, of the wounded king in the fortress whither he hadretired to hide himself after the fight, and 'slew him on his bed.'Imagine the grim scene—the two men stealing in, the sick man there onthe bed helpless, the short ghastly struggle and the swift end. Whatan end for a life with such a beginning!

Now I am not going to dwell on this retribution, inflicted on Joash,or on that which comes to us if we are like him, through a loud-voicedconscience, and a memory which, though it may be dulled and hushed tosleep at present, is sure to wake some day here or yonder. But Ibeseech you to ask yourselves what your outlook is. 'Be not deceived,God is not mocked; for whatsoever a man soweth that shall he alsoreap.' Is that all? Zechariah said, 'The Lord look upon it and requireit.' The great doctrine of retribution is true for ever. Yes; but ourZechariah lifts up his eyes to heaven and he says, 'Father! forgivethem, for they know not what they do.' And so, dear brother! you andI, trusting to that dear Lord, may have all our apostasy forgiven, andbe brought near by the blood of Christ. Let us say with the ApostlePeter, 'Lord, to whom shall we go but to Thee? Thou hast the words ofeternal life.'

GLAD GIVERS AND FAITHFUL WORKERS

'And it came to pass after this, that Joash was minded to repair thehouse of the Lord. 5. And he gathered together the priests and theLevites, and said to them, go out unto the cities of Judah, and gatherof all Israel money to repair the house of your God from year to year,and see that ye hasten the matter. Howbeit the Levites hastened itnot. 6. And the king called for Jehoiada the chief, and said unto him,Why hast thou not required of the Levites to bring in out of Judah andout of Jerusalem the collection, according to the commandment of Mosesthe servant of the Lord, and of the congregation of Israel, for thetabernacle of witness' 7. For the sons of Athaliah, that wicked woman,had broken up the house of God: and also all the dedicated things ofthe house of the Lord did they bestow upon Baalim. 8. And at theking's commandment they made a chest, and set it without at the gateof the house of the Lord. 9. And they made a proclamation throughJudah and Jerusalem, to bring in to the Lord the collection that Mosesthe servant of God laid upon Israel in the wilderness. 10. And all theprinces and all the people rejoiced, and brought in, and cast into thechest, until they had made an end. 11. Now it came to pass, that atwhat time the chest was brought unto the king's office by the hand ofthe Levites, and when they saw that there was much money, the king'sscribe and the high priest's officer came and emptied the chest, andtook it, and carried it to his place again. Thus they did day by day,and gathered money in abundance. 12. And the king and Jehoiada gave itto such as did the work of the service of the house of the Lord, andhired masons and carpenters to repair the house of the Lord, and alsosuch as wrought iron and brass to mend the house of the Lord. 13. Sothe workmen wrought, and the work was perfected by them, and they setthe house of God in his state, and strengthened it. 11. And when theyhad finished it, they brought the rest of the money before the kingand Jehoiada, whereof were made vessels for the house of the Lord,even vessels to minister, and to offer withal, and spoons, and vesselsof gold and silver. And they offered burnt offerings in the house ofthe Lord continually all the days of Jehoiada.'—2 CHRON. xxiv. 4-14.

Joash owed his life and his throne to the high-priest Jehoiada, whowas his uncle by marriage with the sister of Ahaziah, his father.Rescued by his aunt when an infant, he 'was with them, hid in thehouse of God six years,' and, when seven years old, was made king byJehoiada's daring revolt against 'that wicked woman,' Athaliah.Jehoiada's influence was naturally paramount, and was as wholesome asstrong. It is remarkable, however, that this impulse to repair theTemple seems to have originated with the king, not with thehigh-priest, though no doubt the spirit which conceived the impulsewas largely moulded by the latter. The king, whose childhood had founda safe asylum in the Temple, might well desire its restoration, evenapart from considerations of religion.

I. The story first brings into strong contrast the eager king, full ofhis purpose, and the sluggards to whom he had to entrust itsexecution. We can only guess the point in his reign at which Joashsummoned the priests to his help. It was after his marriage (ver. 3),and considerably before the twenty-third year of his reign, at whichtime his patience was exhausted (2 Kings xii. 6). Some years wereapparently wasted by the dawdling sluggishness of the priests, who,for some reason or other, did not go into the proposed restorationheartily. Joash seems to have suspected that they would push the worklanguidly; for there is a distinct tinge of suspicion and 'whippingup' in his injunction to 'hasten the matter.'

The first intention was to raise the funds by sending out the priestsand Levites to collect locally the statutory half-shekel, as well asother contributions mentioned in 2 Kings xii. There we learn that eachcollector was to go to 'his acquaintance.' The subscription was to bespread over some years, and for a while Joash waited quietly; but inthe twenty-third year of his reign (see 2 Kings), he could stand delayno longer. Whether the priests had been diligent in collecting or not,they had done nothing towards repairing. Perhaps they found itdifficult to determine the proportion of the money which was neededfor the ordinary expenses of worship, and for the restoration fund;and, as the former included their own dues and support, they would notbe likely to set it down too low. Perhaps they did not much care tocarry out a scheme which had not begun with themselves; for priestsare not usually eager to promote ecclesiastical renovations suggestedby laymen. Perhaps they did not care as much about the renovation asthe king did, and smiled at his earnestness as a pious imagining.Possibly there was even deliberate embezzlement. But, at any rate,there was half-heartedness, and that always means languid work, andthat always means failure. The earnest people are fretted continuallyby the indifferent. Every good scheme is held back, like a ship with afoul bottom, by the barnacles that stick to its keel and bring downits speed. Professional ecclesiastics in all ages have succumbed tothe temptation of thinking that 'church property' was first of all tobe used for their advantage, and, secondarily, for behoof of God'shouse. Eager zeal has in all ages to be yoked to torpid indifference,and to drag its unwilling companion along, like two dogs in a leash.Direct opposition is easier to bear than apparent assistance whichtries to slow down to half speed.

Joash's command is imperative on all workers for God. 'See that yehasten the matter,' for time is short, the fruit great, the eveningshadows lengthening, the interests at stake all-important, and theLord of the harvest will soon come to count our sheaves. Whatever workmay be done without haste, God's cannot be, and a heavy curse falls onhim who 'does the work of the Lord negligently.' The runner who keepswell on this side of fatigue, panting, and sweat, has little chance ofthe crown.

II. The next step is the withdrawal of the work from the sluggards.They are relieved both of the collection and expenditure of the money.Apparently (2 Kings xii. 9) the contributors handed their donations tothe doorkeepers, who put them into the chest with 'a hole in the lidof it,' in the sight of the donors. The arrangement was not flatteringto the hierarchy, but as appearances were saved by Jehoiada's makingthe chest (see 2 Kings) they had to submit with the best grace theycould. In our own times, we have seen the same thing often enough.When clergy have maladministered church property, Parliament hasappointed ecclesiastical commissioners. Common sense prescribes takingslovenly work out of lazy hands. The more rigidly that principle iscarried out in the church and the nation, at whatever cost ofindividual humiliation, the better for both. 'The tools to the handsthat can use them' is the ideal for both. God's dealings follow thesame law, both in withdrawing opportunities of service and in givingmore of such. The reward for work is more work, and the punishment forsloth is compulsory idleness.

III. We are next shown the glad givers. Probably suspicion had beenexcited in others than the king, and had checked liberality. Peoplewill not give freely if the expenses of the collectors' supportswallow up the funds. It is hard to get help for a vague scheme, whichunites two objects, and only gives the balance, after the first isprovided for, to the second and more important. So the whole nation,both high and low, was glad when the new arrangement brought a clearissue, and secured the right appropriation of the money.

No doubt, too, Joash's earnestness kindled others. Chronicles speaksonly of the 'tax,'—that is, the half-shekel,—but Kings mentions twoother sources, one of which is purely spontaneous gifts, and these areimplied by the tone of verse 10, which lays stress on the gladness ofthe offerers. That is the incense which adds fragrance to our gifts.Grudging service is no service, and money given for ever so religiousa purpose, without gladness because of the opportunity of giving, isnot, in the deepest sense, given at all. Love is a longing to give tothe beloved, and whoever truly loves God will know no keener delightthan surrender for His dear sake. Pecuniary contributions forreligious purposes afford a rough but real test of the depth of aman's religion; but it is one available only for himself, since themotive, and not the amount, is the determining element. We all need tobring our hearts more under the Influence of God's love to us, thatour love to Him may be increased, and then to administer possessions,under the impulse to glad giving which enkindled love will alwaysexcite. Super-heated steam has most expansive power and driving force.These glad givers may remind us not only of the one condition ofacceptable giving, but also of the need for clear and worthy objects,and of obvious disinterestedness in those who seek for money to helpgood causes. The smallest opening for suspicion that some of it sticksto the collector's fingers is fatal, as it should be.

IV. Joash was evidently a business-like king. We next hear of theprecautions he took to secure the public confidence. There was a roughbut sufficient audit. When the chest grew heavy, and sounded full, twoofficials received it at the 'king's office.' The Levites carried itthere, but were not allowed to handle the contents. The two tellersrepresented the king and the chief priest, and thus both the civil andreligious authorities were satisfied, and each officer was a check onthe other. Public money should never be handled by a man alone; and anhonest one will always wish, like Paul, to have a brother associatedwith him, that no man may blame him in his administration of it. If wetake 'day by day' literally, we have a measure of the liberality whichfilled the chest daily; but, more probably, the expression simplymeans 'from time to time,' when occasion required.

V. The application of the money is next narrated. In this Jehoiada isassociated with Joash, the king probably desiring to smooth over anyslight that might seem to have been put on the priests, as well asbeing still under the influence of the high-priest's strong characterand early kindness. Together they passed over the results of thecontribution to the contractors, who in turn paid it in wages to theworkmen who repaired the fabric, such as masons and carpenters, and toother artisans who restored other details, such as brass and ironwork. The Second Book of Kings tells us that Joash's cautiousprovision against misappropriation seems to have deserted him at thisstage; for no account was required of the workmen, 'for they dealtfaithfully.' That is an indication of their goodwill. The humblecraftsmen were more reliable than the priests. They had, no doubt,given their half-shekel like others, and now they gladly gave theirwork, and were not hirelings, though they were hired. We, too, have togive our money and our labour; and if our hearts are right, we shallgive both with the same conscientious cheerfulness, and, if we arepaid in coin for our work, will still do it for higher reasons andlooking for other wages. These Temple workmen may stand as patterns ofwhat religion should do for those of us whose lot is to work with ourhands,—and not less for others who have to toil with their brains,and the sweat of whose brow is inside their heads. A Christian workmanshould be a 'faithful' workman, and will be so if he is full of faith.

Joash knew when to trust and when to keep a sharp eye on men. Hisexperience with the priests had not soured him into suspectingeverybody. Cynical disbelief in honesty is more foolish and hurtful toourselves than even excessive trust. These workmen wrought all themore faithfully because they knew that they were trusted, and in ninecases out of ten men will try to live up to our valuation of them. TheRugby boys used to say, 'It's a shame to tell Arnold a lie, he alwaysbelieves us.' Better to be cheated once than to treat the nine asrogues,—better for them and better for ourselves.

'Faithful' work is prosperous work. As verse 13 picturesquely says,'Healing went up upon the work'; and the Temple was restored to itsold fair proportions, and stood strong as before. Where there isconscientious effort, God's blessing is not withheld. Labour 'in theLord' can never be empty labour, though even a prophet may often betempted, in a moment of weary despondency, to complain, 'I havelaboured in vain.' We may not see the results, nor have the workmen'sjoy of beholding the building rise, course by course, under our hands,but we shall see it one day, though now we have to work in the dark.

There seems a discrepancy between the statements in Chronicles andKings as to the source from which the cost of the sacrificial vesselswas defrayed, since, according to the former, it was from therestoration fund, which is expressly denied by the latter. Theexplanation seems reasonable, that, as Chronicles says, it was fromthe balance remaining after all restoration charges were liquidated,that this other expenditure was met. First, the whole amount wassacredly devoted to the purpose for which it had been asked, and then,when the honest overseers repaid the uncounted surplus, which theymight have kept, it was found sufficient to meet the extra cost offurnishing. God blesses the faithful steward of his gifts with morethan enough for the immediate service, and the best use of the surplusis to do more with it for Him. 'God is able to make all grace aboundunto you; that ye, having always all sufficiency in every thing, mayabound unto every good work, … being enriched in every thing untoall liberality.'

PRUDENCE AND FAITH

'And Amaziah said to the man of God, But what shall we do for thehundred talents which I have given to the army of Israel? And the manof God answered, The Lord is able to give thee much more thanthis.'—2 CHRON. xxv. 9.

The character of this Amaziah, one of the Kings of Judah, is summed upby the chronicler in a damning epigram: 'He did that which was rightin the sight of the Lord, but not with a perfect heart.' He was one ofyour half-and-half people, or, as Hosea says, 'a cake not turned,'burnt black on one side, and raw dough on the other. So when he cameto the throne, in the buoyancy and insolence of youth, he immediatelybegan to aim at conquests in the neighbouring little states; and inorder to strengthen himself he hired 'a hundred thousand mighty men ofvalour' out of Israel for a hundred talents of silver. To seek helpfrom Israel was, in a prophet's eyes, equivalent to flinging off helpfrom God. So a man of God comes to him, and warns him that the Lord isnot with Israel, and that the alliance is not permissible for him.But, instead of yielding to the prophet's advice, he parries it withthis misplaced question, 'But what shall we do for the hundred talentsthat I have given to the army of Israel?' He does not care to askwhether the counsel that he is receiving is right or wrong, or whetherwhat he is intending to do is in conformity with, or in opposition to,the will of God, but, passing by all such questions, at once hefastens on the lower consideration of expediency—'What is to becomeof me if I do as this prophet would have me do? What a heavy loss onehundred talents will be! It is too much to sacrifice to a scruple ofthat sort. It cannot be done.'

A great many of us may take a lesson from this man. There are twothings in my text—a misplaced question and a triumphant answer: 'Whatshall we do for the hundred talents?' 'The Lord is able to give theemuch more than this.' Now, remarkably enough, both question and answermay be either very right or very wrong, according as they are taken,and I purpose to look at those two aspects of each.

I. A misplaced question.

I call it misplaced because Amaziah's fault, and the fault of a greatmany of us, was, not that he took consequences into account, but thathe took them into account at the wrong time. The question should havecome second, not first. Amaziah's first business should have been tosee clearly what was duty; and then, and not till then, the nextbusiness should have been to consider consequences.

Consider the right place and way of putting this question. Many of usmake shipwreck of our lives because, with our eyes shut, we determineupon some grand design, and fall under the condemnation of the manthat 'began to build, and was not able to finish.' He drew a greatplan of a stately mansion; and then found that he had neither money inthe bank, nor stones in his quarry, to finish it, and so it stood—aruin. All through our Lord's life He was engaged rather in repressingvolunteers than in soliciting recruits, and He from time to timepoured a douche of cold water upon swiftly effervescing desires to goafter Him. When the multitudes followed Him, He turned and said tothem, 'If you are counting on being My disciples, understand what itmeans: take up the cross and follow Me.' When an enthusiastic man, whohad not looked consequences in the face, came rushing to Him and said:'Lord, I will follow Thee whithersoever Thou goest,' His answer to himwas another pull at the string of the shower bath: 'The Son of Manhath not where to lay His head.' When the two disciples came to himand said: 'Grant that we may sit, the one on Thy right hand and theother on Thy left, when Thou comest into Thy kingdom,' He said: 'Areye able to drink of the cup that I drink of, and to be baptized withthe baptism that I am baptized withal?' Look the facts in the facebefore you make your election. Jesus Christ will enlist no man underfalse pretences. Recruiting-sergeants tell country bumpkins or citylouts wonderful stories of what they will get if they take theshilling and put on the king's uniform; but Jesus Christ does notrecruit His soldiers in that fashion. If a man does not open his eyesto a clear vision of the consequences of his actions, his life will goto water in all directions. And there is no region in which such clearinsight into what is going to follow upon my determinations and thepart that I take is more necessary than in the Christian life. It isjust because in certain types of character, 'the word is received withjoy,' and springs up immediately, that when 'the sun is risen with aburning heat'—that is, as Christ explains, when the pinch ofdifficulty comes—'immediately they fall away,' and all their grandresolutions go to nothing. 'Lightly come, lightly go.' Let us face thefacts of what is involved, in the way of sacrifice, surrender, loss,if we determine to be on Christ's side; and then, when the anticipateddifficulties come, we shall neither be perplexed nor swept away, butbe able quietly to say, 'I discounted it all beforehand; I knew it wascoming.' The storm catches the ship that is carrying full sail andexpecting nothing but light and favourable breezes; while the captainthat looked into the weather quarter and saw the black cloud beginningto rise above the horizon, and took in his sails and made his vesselsnug and tight, rides out the gale. It is wisdom that becomes a man,to ask this question, if first of all he has asked, 'What ought I todo?'

But we have here an instance of a right thing in a wrong place. It wasright to ask the question, but wrong to ask it at that point. Amaziahthought nothing about duty. There sprang up in his mind at once thecowardly and ignoble thought: 'I cannot afford to do what is right,because it will cost me a hundred talents,' and that was his sin.Consequences may be, must be, faced in anticipation, or a man is afool. He that allows the clearest perception of disagreeableconsequences, such as pain, loss of ease, loss of reputation, loss ofmoney, or any other harmful results that may follow, to frighten himout of the road that he knows he ought to take, is a worse fool still,for he is a coward and recreant to his own conscience.

We have to look into our own hearts for the most solemn and pressingillustrations of this sin, and I daresay we all of us can rememberclear duties that we have neglected, because we did not like to facewhat would come from them. A man in business will say, 'I cannotafford to have such a high standard of morality; I shall be hopelesslyrun over in the race with my competitors if I do not do as they do,'or he will say, 'I durst not take a stand as an out-and-out Christian;I shall lose connections, I shall lose position. People will laugh atme. What am I to do for the hundred talents?'

But we can find the same thing in Churches. I do not mean to enterupon controversial questions, but as an instance, I may remind youthat one great argument that our friends who believe in an EstablishedChurch are always bringing forward, is just a modern form of Amaziah'squestion, 'What shall we do for the hundred talents? How could theChurch be maintained, how could its ministrations be continued, if itsState-provided revenues were withdrawn or given up?' But it is notonly Anglicans who put the consideration of the consequences ofobedience in the wrong place. All the Churches are but too apt to lettheir eyes wander from reading the plain precepts of the New Testamentto looking for the damaging results to be expected from keeping them.Do we not sometimes hear, as answer to would-be reformers, 'We cannotafford to give up this, that, or the other practice? We should not beable to hold our ground, unless we did so-and-so and so-and-so.'

But not only individuals or Churches are guilty in this matter. Thenation takes a leaf out of Amaziah's book, and puts aside many plainduties, for no better reason than that it would cost too much to dothem. 'What is the use of talking about suppressing the liquor trafficor housing the poor? Think of the cost.' The 'hundred talents' blockthe way and bribe the national conscience. For instance, the opiumtraffic; how is it defended? Some attempt is made to prove either thatwe did not force it upon China, or that the talk about the evils ofopium is missionary fanaticism, but the sheet-anchor is: 'How are weever to raise the Indian revenue if we give up the traffic?' That isexactly Amaziah over again, come from the dead, and resurrected in avery ugly shape.

So national policy and Church action, and—what is of far moreimportance to you and me than either the one or the other,—our ownpersonal relation to Jesus Christ and discipleship to Him, have beenhampered, and are being hampered, just by that persistent and unworthyattitude of looking at the consequences of doing plain duties, andpermitting ourselves to be frightened from the duties because theconsequences are unwelcome to us.

Prudence is all right, but when prudence takes command and presumes toguide conscience, then it is all wrong. In some courts of law and incertain cases, the judge has an assessor sitting beside him, an expertabout some of the questions that are involved. Conscience is thejudge, prudence the assessor. But if the assessor ventures up on thejudgment-seat, and begins to give the decisions which it is not hisbusiness to give—for his only business is to give advice—thenthe only thing to do with the assessor is to tell him to hold histongue and let the judge speak. It is no answer to the prophet'sprohibition to say, 'But what shall I do for the hundred talents?' Ayet better answer than the prophet gave Amaziah would have been,'Never mind about the hundred talents; do what is right, and leave therest to God.' However, that was not the answer.

II. The triumphant answer.

'The Lord is able to give thee much more than this.' Now, this answer,like the question, may be right or wrong, according as it is taken. Inwhat aspect is it wrong? In what sense is it not true? I suppose thisprophet did not mean more than the undeniable truth that God was ableto give Amaziah more than a hundred talents. He was not thinking ofthe loftier meanings which we necessarily, as Christian people, at alater stage of Revelation, and with a clearer vision of many things,attach to the words. He simply meant, 'You will very likely get morethan the hundred talents that you have lost, if you do what pleasesGod.' He was speaking from the point of view of the Old Testament;though even in the Old Testament we have instances enough thatprosperity did not always attend righteousness. In the Old Testamentwe find the Book of Job, and the Book of Ecclesiastes, and many apsalm, all of which were written in order to grapple with thequestion, 'How is it that God does not give the good man more than thehundred talents that he has lost for the sake of being good?' It isnot true, and it is a dangerous mistake to suggest that it is true,that a man in this world never loses by being a good, honest,consistent Christian. He often does lose a great deal, as far as thisworld is concerned; and he has to make up his mind to lose it, and itwould be a very poor thing to say to him, 'Now, live like a Christianman, and if you are flinging away money or anything else because ofyour Christianity, you will get it back.' No; you will not, in a goodmany cases. Sometimes you will, and sometimes you will not. It doesnot matter whether you do or do not.

But the sense in which the triumphant answer of the prophet is true isa far higher one. 'The Lord is able to give thee much more thanthis,'—what is 'more'? a thousand talents? No; the 'much more' thatChristianity has educated us to understand is meant in the depths ofsuch a promise as this is, first of all, character. Every man thatsacrifices anything to convictions of duty gains more than he losesthereby, because he gains an inward nobleness and strength, to saynothing of the genial warmth of an approving conscience. And whilstthat is true in all regions of life, it is most especially true inregard to sacrifices made from Christian principle. No matter howdisastrous may be the results externally, the inward results offaithfulness are so much greater and sweeter and nobler than all theexternal evil consequences that may follow, that it is 'good policy'for a man to beggar himself for Christ's sake, for the sake of thedurable riches—which our Lord Himself explains to be synonymous withrighteousness—which will come thereby. He that wins strength andChrist-likeness of character by sacrificing for Christ has won farmore than he can ever lose.

He wins not only character, but a fuller capacity for a fullerpossession of Jesus Christ Himself, and that is infinitely more thananything that any man has ever sacrificed for the sake of that dearLord. Do you remember when it was that there was granted to theApostle John the vision of the throned Christ, and that he felt laidupon him the touch of the vivifying Hand from Heaven? It was 'when Iwas in Patmos for the Word of God, and for the testimony of Jesus.' Helost Ephesus; he gained an open heaven and a visible Christ. Do youremember who it was that said, 'I have suffered the loss of allthings, and do count them but dung, that I may win Christ'? It was agood bargain, Paul! The balance-sheet showed a heavy balance to yourcredit. Debit, 'all things'; credit, 'Christ.' 'The Lord is able togive thee much more than this.'

Remember the old prophecy: 'For brass I will bring gold; and for iron,silver.' The brass and the iron may be worth something, but if webarter them away and get instead gold and silver, we are gainers bythe transaction. Fling out the ballast if you wish the balloon torise. Let the hundred talents go if you wish to get 'the more thanthis.' And listen to the New Testament variation of this man of God'spromise, 'If thou wilt have treasure in heaven, go and sell all thatthou hast, and follow Me.'

JOTHAM

'So Jotham became mighty, because he prepared his ways before the Lordhis God.'—2 CHRON. xxvii 6.

This King Jotham is one of the obscurer of the Jewish monarchs, and weknow next to nothing about him. The most memorable event in his reignis that 'in the year when King Uzziah,' his father, 'died,' andconsequently in Jotham's first year, Isaiah saw the Lord sitting inthe Temple on the empty throne, and had the lips which were to utterso many immortal words touched with fire from the altar. Whether itwere the effect of the prophet's words, or from other causes, thelittle that is told of him is good, and he is eulogised as havingimitated his father's God-pleasing acts, and not having stainedhimself by repeating his father's sin. The rest that we hear of him inChronicles is a mere sketch of campaigns, buildings, and victories,and then he and his reign are summed up in the words of our text,which is the analysis of the man and the disclosure of the secret ofhis prosperity: 'He became mighty, because he prepared his ways'—and,more than that, 'he prepared them before the Lord his God.'

So then, if we begin, as it were, at the bottom, as we ought to do, instudying a character, taking the deepest thing first, and laying holdupon the seminal and germinal principle of the whole, this textreminds us that—The secret of true strength lies in the continualrecognition that life is lived 'Before the Lord our God.'

Now to say, 'Walk thou before Me,' the command given toAbraham, suggests a somewhat different modification of the idea fromthe apparently parallel phrase, 'to walk with God' which isdeclared to have been the life's habit of Enoch. The one expressionsuggests simple companionship and communion; the other suggests ratherthe vivid and continual realisation of the thought that we are 'everin the great Taskmaster's eye.' To walk before God is to feelthrillingly and continually, and yet without being abased or crushedor discomposed, but rather being encouraged and quickened and calmedand ennobled and gladdened thereby: 'Thou God seest me.' It seems tome that one of the plainest pieces of Christian duty, and, alas! oneof the most neglected of them, is the cultivation, definitely andconsciously, by effort and by self-discipline, of that consciousnessas a present factor in all our lives, and an influencing motive ineverything that we do. If once we could bring before the eye of ourminds that great, blazing, white throne, and Him that sits upon it, weshould want nothing else to burn up the commonplaces of life, and toflash its insignificance into splendour and awfulness. We should wantnothing else to lift us to a 'solemn scorn of ills,' and to deliver usfrom the false sweetnesses and fading delights that grow on the lowlevels of a sense-bound life! Brethren! our whole life would betransformed and glorified, and we should be different men and women ifwe ordered our ways as 'before the Lord our God.' What meannesscould live when we knew that it was seen by those pure Eyes? How weshould be ashamed of ourselves, of our complaints, of our murmurings,of our reluctance to do our duty, of our puerile regrets for vanishedblessings, and of all the low cares and desires that beset and spoilour lives, if once this thought, 'before God,' were habitual with us,and we walked in it as in an atmosphere!

Why is it not? and might it not be? and if it might not, ought it notto be? And what are we to say to Him whom we profess to love as ourSupreme Good, if all the day long the thought of Him seldom comes intoour minds, and if any triviality, held near the eye, is large enoughand bright enough to shut Him out from our sight? With deep ethicalsignificance and accuracy was the command given to Abraham as thesole, all-sufficient direction for both inward and outward life: 'Walkbefore Me and (so) be thou perfect.' For indeed the fullrealisation—adequate and constant and solid enough to be a motive—of'Thou God seest me,' would be found to contain practical directions inregard to all moral difficulties, and would unfailingly detect theevil, howsoever wrapped up, and would carry in itself not only motivebut impulse, not only law but power to fulfil it. The Master's eyemakes diligent servants. How schoolboys bend themselves over theirslates and quicken their effort when the teacher is walking behind thebenches! And how a gang of idle labourers will buckle to the spade andtax their muscles in an altogether different fashion when the overseerappears upon the field! If we realised, as we should do, the presencein all our little daily life of that great, sovereign Lord, therewould be less skulking, less superficially performed tasks, less jerrywork put into our building; more of our strength cast into all ourwork, and less of ourselves in any of it.

Remember, too, how connected with this is another piece of effortneedful in the religious life, and suggested by the last words of thistext, 'Before the Lord his God.' Cultivate the habit ofnarrowing down the general truths of religion to their relation toyourselves. Do not be content with 'the Lord our God,' or 'theLord the God of the whole earth,' but put a 'my' in, and realise notonly the presence of a divine Inspector, but the closeness of thepersonal bond that unites to Him; and the individual responsibility,in all its width and depth and unshiftableness—if I may use such aword—which results therefrom. You cannot shake off or step out of thetasks that 'the Lord your God' lays upon you. You and He are asif alone in the world. Make Him your God by choice, by your ownpersonal acceptance of His authority and dependence upon His power,and try to translate into daily life the great truth, 'Thou God seestme,' and bring it to bear upon the veriest trifles and smallestdetails.

Now the text follows the order of observation, so to speak, andmentions the outward facts of Jotham's success before it goes deeperand accounts for them. We have reversed the process and dealt firstwith the cause. The spring of all lay in his conscious recognition ofhis relation to God and God's to him. From that, of course, followedthat he 'prepared,' according to the Authorised Version, or 'ordered,'according to the Revised Version, 'his ways.' There is an alternativerendering of the word rendered 'prepared' or 'ordered' given in themargin of the Authorised Version, which reads, 'established his ways.'Both the ideas of ordering and establishing are contained in the word.

Now that fact, that the same word means both these, conveys a piece ofpractical wisdom, which it will do us all good to note clearly andtake to heart. For it teaches us that whatever is 'ordered' is firm,and whatever is disorderly, haphazard, done without the exercise ofone's mind on the act, being chaotic, is necessarily short-lived.

The ordered life is the established life. The life of impulse, chance,passion, the life that is lived without choice and plan, withoutreflection and consideration of consequences, the following of nature,which some people tell us is the highest law, and which is woefullylikely to degenerate into following the lower nature, whichought not to be followed, but covered and kept under hatches—such alife is sure to be a topsy-turvy life, which, being based upon thenarrowest point, must, by the laws of equilibrium, topple over sooneror later. If you would have your lives established, they must beordered. You must bring your brains to bear upon them, and you mustbring more than brain, you must bring to bear on every part of themthe spiritual instincts that are quickened by contact with the thoughtof the All-seeing God, and let these have the ordering of them. Suchlives, and only such, will endure 'when all that seems shall suffershock.' 'He that doeth the will of God abideth for ever.'

But the lesson that is pressed upon us by this word, understood in theother meanings of 'prepared' or 'ordered,' is that all our 'ways,'that is, our practical life, our acts, direction of mind, habits,should be regulated by continual consciousness of, and reference to,the All-discerning Eye that looks down upon us, and 'the God in whosehands our breath is, and whose are'—whether we make them so ornot—'all our ways.' To translate that into less picturesque, and lessforcible, but more modern words, it is just this: You Christian peopleought to make it a point of duty to cultivate the habit of referringeverything that you do to the will and judgment of God. Take Him intoaccount in everything great or small, and in nothing say, 'Thus Iwill, thus I command. My will shall stand instead of all otherreasons'; but say, 'Lord! by Thee and for Thee I try to do this'; andhaving done it, say, 'Lord! the seed is sown in Thy name; bless Thouthe springing thereof.' Works thus begun, continued and ended, willnever be put to confusion, and 'ways' thus ordered will beestablished. A path of righteousness like that can no more fail to bea way of peace than can God's throne ever totter or fall. An orderedlife in which He is consulted, and which is all shaped at His bidding,and by His strength, and for His dear name, will 'stand four-square toall the winds that blow,' and, being founded upon a rock, will neverfall.

But we may also note that in the strength of that thought, that we arebefore the Lord our God, we shall best establish our ways in the sensethat we shall keep on steadily and doggedly on the path. Well begunmay be half ended, but there is often a long dreary grind before it iswholly ended, and the last half of the march is the wearisome half.The Bible has a great deal to say about the need of obstinatepersistence on the right road. 'Ye did run well, what did hinder you?''Cast not away your confidence, which hath great recompense ofreward.' 'We are made partakers of Christ if we hold fast thebeginning of our confidence firm unto the end.' 'He that overcomethand keepeth My words unto the end, to him will I give authority.'Lives which derive their impulse from communion with God will not cometo a dead stop half-way on their road, like a motor the fuel of whichfails; and it will be impossible for any man to 'endure unto the end'and so to be heir of the promise—'the same shall be saved,' unless hedraws his persistency from Him who 'fainteth not, neither is weary'and who 'reneweth strength to them that have no might' so that in allthe monotonous levels they shall 'walk and not faint,' and in all thecrises, demanding brief spurts of energy, 'they shall run and not beweary,' and at last 'shall mount up with wings as eagles.' A pathordered and a path persisted in ought to be the path of everyChristian man.

The text finally tells of the prosperity and growing power whichattends such a course. 'Jotham became mighty.' That was simple outwardblessing. His kingdom prospered, and, according to the theocraticconstitution of Judah, faithfulness to God and material well-beingwent together. You cannot apply these words, of course, to the outwardlives of Christians. It is no doubt true that 'Godliness isprofitable for all things,' but there are a great many other thingsbesides the godliness of the man that does them which determinewhether a man's undertakings shall prosper in the world's sense ornot. It would be a pitiable thing if the full revelation of God inChrist did not teach us Christians more about the meaning and theworth of outward success and inward prosperity than the Old Testamentcould teach. I hope we have learned that lesson; at least, it is notthe fault of our lesson book if we have not. Although it is true thatreligion does make the best of both worlds, it does not do so bytaking the world's estimate of what its best for to-day is, and givinga religious man that. Sometimes it does, and sometimes it doesnot, and whether it does or no depends on other considerations thanthe reality of the man's devotion. Good men are often made better bybeing made sad and unsuccessful. And if they are not bettered byadversity, it is not the fault of the discipline but of the people whoundergo it.

But though the husk of my text falls away—and we should thank Godthat it has fallen away—the kernel of it is ever true. Whosoever willthus root his life in the living thought of a loving, divine Eye beingperpetually upon him, and make that thought a motive for holiness andloving obedience and effort after service, will find that the truesuccess, the only success and the only strength that are worth a man'sambition to desire or his effort to secure, will assuredly be his. Hemay be voted a failure as regards the world's prizes. But a man that'orders his ways,' and perseveres in ways thus ordered, 'before theLord' will for reward get more power to order his ways, and a purerand more thrilling, less interrupted and more childlike vision of theFace that looks upon him. God's 'eyes behold the upright,' and theupright behold His eyes, and in the interchange of glances there ispower; and in that power is the highest reward for ordered lives. Weshall get power to do, power to bear, power to think aright, power tolove, power to will, power to behold, power to deny ourselves, 'powerto become sons of God.' This is the success of life, when out of allits changes, and by reason of all its efforts, we realise more fullyour filial possession of our Father, and our Father's changeless loveto us. We shall become mighty with the might that is born of obedienceand faith if we order our ways before the Lord our God. 'The path ofthe just is as the shining light, that shineth more and more until thenoontide of the day.'

COSTLY AND FATAL HELP

'He sacrificed unto the gods of Damascus, which smote him: and hesaid, Because the gods of the kings of Syria help them, therefore willI sacrifice to them, that they may help me. But they were the ruin ofhim, and of all Israel.'—2 CHRON. xxviii. 23.

Ahaz came to the throne when a youth of twenty. From the beginning hereversed the policy of his father, and threw himself into the arms ofthe heathen party. In a comparatively short reign of sixteen years hestamped out the worship of God, and nearly ruined the kingdom.

He did not plunge into idolatry for want of good advice. The greatestof the prophets stood beside him. Isaiah addressed to himremonstrances which might have made the most reckless pause, andpromises which might have kindled hope and courage in the bosom ofdespair. Hosea in the northern kingdom, Micah in Judah, and other lessbrilliant names were amongst the stars which shone even in that darknight. But their light was all in vain. The foolish lad had got thebit between his teeth, and, like many another young man, thought toshow his 'breadth' and his 'spirit' by neglecting his father'scounsellors, and abandoning his father's faith. He was ready toworship anything that called itself a god, always excepting Jehovah.He welcomed Baal, Moloch, Rimmon, and many more with an indiscriminateeagerness that would have been ludicrous if it had not been tragical.The more he multiplied his gods the more he multiplied his sorrows,and the more he multiplied his sorrows the more he multiplied hisgods.

From all sides the invaders came. From north, northeast, east,south-east, south, they swarmed in upon him. They tore away thefringes of his kingdom; and hostile armies flaunted their bannersbeneath the very walls of Jerusalem.

And then, in his despair, like a scorpion in a circle of fire, heinflicted a deadly wound on himself by calling in the fatal help ofAssyria. Nothing loth, that warlike power responded, scattered hisless formidable foes, and then swallowed the prey which it had draggedfrom between the teeth of the Israelites and Syrians. The result ofAhaz's frantic appeals to false gods and faithless men may still beread on the cuneiform inscriptions, where, amidst a long list ofunknown tributary kings, stands, with a Philistine on one side of himand an Ammonite on the other, the shameful record, 'Ahaz of Judah.'

That was what came of forsaking the God of his fathers. It is a typeof what always has come, and always must come, of a godless life. Thatis the point of view from which I wish to look at the story, and atthese words of my text which gather the whole spirit of it into onesentence.

I. First, then, let me ask you to notice how this narrativeillustrates for us the crowd of vain helpers to which a man has totake when he turns his back upon God.

If we compare the narrative in our chapter with the parallel in theSecond Book of Kings, we get a very vivid picture of the strangemedley of idolatries which they introduced. Amongst Ahaz's new godsare, for instance, the golden calves of Israel and the ferociousMoloch of Ammon, to whom he sacrificed, passing through the fire atleast one of his own children. The ancient sacred places of theCanaanites, on every high hill and beneath every conspicuous tree,again smoked with incense to half-forgotten local deities. In everyopen space in Jerusalem he planted a brand-new altar with a brand-newworship attendant upon it. In the Temple, he brushed aside the altarthat Solomon had made and put up a new one, copied from one which hehad seen at Damascus. The importation of the Damascene altar, Isuppose, meant, as our text tells us, the importation of the Damascenegods along with it.

Side by side with that multiplication of false deities went the almostentire neglect of the worship of Jehovah, until at last, as his reignadvanced and he floundered deeper into his troubles, the Temple wasspoiled, everything in it that could be laid hands upon was sent tothe melting-pot, to pay the Assyrian tribute; and then the doors wereshut, the lamps extinguished, the fire quenched on the cold altars,and the silent Temple left to the bats and—the Shekinah; forGod still abode in the deserted house.

Further, side by side with this appealing all round the horizon towhatsoever obscene and foul shape seemed to promise some help, therewent the foolish appeal to the northern invaders to come and aid him,which they did, to his destruction. His whole career is that of agodless and desperate man who will grasp at anything that offersdeliverance, and will worship any god or devil who will extricate himfrom his troubles.

Is the breed extinct, think you? Is there any one among us who, if hecannot get what he wants by fair ways, will try to get it by foul? Donone of you ever bow down to Satan for a slice of the kingdoms of thisworld? Ahaz has still plenty of brothers and sisters in all ourchurches and chapels.

This story illustrates for us what, alas! is only too true, both onthe broad scale, as to the generation in which we live, and on thenarrower field of our own individual lives. Look at the so-calledcultured classes of Europe to-day; turning away, as so many of themare, from the Lord God of their fathers; what sort of gods are theyworshipping instead? Scraps from Buddhism, the Vedas, any sacred booksbut the Bible; quackeries, and charlatanism, arid dreams, andfragmentary philosophies all pieced together, to try and make up awhole, instead of the old-fashioned whole that they have left behindthem. There are men and women in many congregations who, in modernfashion, are doing precisely the thing that Ahaz did—having abandonedChristianity, they are trying to make up for it by hastily stitchingtogether shreds and patches that they have found in other systems.'The garment is narrower than that a man can wrap himself in it,' anda creed patched together so will never make a seamless whole which canbe trusted not to rend.

But look, further, how the same thing is true as to the individuallives of godless men.

Many of us are trying to make up for not having the One by seeking tostay our hearts on the many. But no accumulation of insufficiencieswill ever make a sufficiency. You may fill the heaven all over withstars, bright and thickly set as those in the whitest spot in thegalaxy, and it will be night still. Day needs the sun, and the sun isone, and when it comes the twinkling lights are forgotten. You cannotmake up for God by any extended series of creatures, any more than arow of figures that stretched from here to Sirius and backagain would approximate to infinitude.

The very fact of the multitude of helpers is a sign that none of themis sufficient. There is no end of 'cures' for toothache, that is tosay there is none. There is no end of helps for men that haveabandoned God, that is to say, every one in turn when it is tried, andthe stress of the soul rests upon it, gives, and is found to be abroken staff that pierces the hand that leans upon it.

Consult your own experience. What is the meaning of the unrest anddistraction that mark the lives of most of the men in this generation?Why is it that you hurry from business to pleasure, from pleasure tobusiness, until it is scarcely possible to get a quiet breathing timefor thought at all? Why is it but because one after another of yourgods have proved insufficient, and so fresh altars must be built forfresh idolatries, and new experiments made, of which we can safelyprophesy the result will be the old one. We have not got beyond St.Augustine's saying:—'Oh, God! my heart was made for Thee, and in Theeonly doth it find repose.' The many idols, though you multiply thembeyond count, all put together will never make the One God. You areseeking what you will never find. The many pearls that you seek willnever be enough for you. The true wealth is One, 'One pearl of greatprice.'

II. So notice again how this story teaches the heavy cost of thesehelpers' help.

Ahaz had, as he thought, two strings to his bow. He had the gods ofDamascus and of other lands on one hand, he had the king of Assyria onanother. They both of them exacted onerous terms before they wouldstir a foot to his aid. As for the northern conqueror, all the wealthof the king and of the princes and of the Temple was sent to Assyriaas the price of his hurtful help. As for the gods, his helpers, one ofhis sons at least went into the furnace to secure their favour; andwhat other sacrifices he may have made besides the sacrifice of hisconscience and his soul, history does not tell us. These wereconsiderable subsidies to have to be paid down before any aid wasgranted.

Do you buy this world's help any cheaper, my brother? You getnothing for nothing in that market. It is a big price that you have topay before these mercenaries will come to fight on your side. Here isa man that 'succeeds in life,' as we call it. What does it cost him?Well! it has cost him the suppression, the atrophy by disuse, of manycapacities in his soul which were far higher and nobler than thosethat have been exercised in his success. It has cost him all his days;it has possibly cost him the dying out of generous sympathies and thestimulating of unwholesome selfishness. Ah! he has bought hisprosperity very dear. Political economists have much to say about the'appreciation of gold.' I think if people would estimate what they payfor it, in an immense majority of cases, in treasure that cannot beweighed and stamped, they would find it to be about the dearest thingin God's universe; and that there are few men who make worse bargainsthan the men who give themselves for worldly success, even whenthey receive what they give themselves for.

There are some of you who know how much what you call enjoyment hascost you. Some of us have bought pleasure at the price of innocence,of moral dignity, of stained memories, of polluted imaginations, of anincapacity to rise above the flesh: and some of us have bought it atthe price of health. The world has a way of getting more out of youthan it gives to you.

At the best, if you are not Christian men and women, whether you aremen of business, votaries of pleasure, seekers after culture andrefinement or anything else, you have given Heaven to get earth. Isthat a good bargain? Is it much wiser than that of a horde of nakedsavages that sell a great tract of fair country, with gold-bearingreefs in it, for a bottle of rum, and a yard or two of calico? What isthe difference? You have been fooled out of the inheritance which Godmeant for you; and you have got for it transient satisfaction, andpartial as it is transient. If you are not Christian people, you haveto buy this world's wealth and goods at the price of God and of yourown souls. And I ask you if that is an investment which recommendsitself to your common sense. Oh! my brother; 'what shall it profit aman if he gain the whole world, and lose himself?' Answer thequestion.

III. Lastly, we may gather from this story an illustration of thefatal falsehood of the world's help.

Ahaz pauperised himself to buy the hireling swords of Assyria, and hegot them; but, as it says in the narrative, 'the king came unto him,and distressed him, but strengthened him not.' He helped Ahaz atfirst. He scattered the armies of which the king of Judah was afraidlike chaff, with his fierce and disciplined onset. And then, havingdriven them off the bleeding prey, he put his own paw upon it, andgrowled 'Mine!' And where he struck his claws there was little morehope of life for the prostrate creature below him.

Ay! and that is what this world always does. In the case before usthere was providential guidance of the politics of the Eastern nationsin order to bring about these results; and we do not look for anythingof that sort. No! But there are natural laws at work today which areGod's laws, and which ensure the worthlessness of the help bought sodear.

A godless life has at the best only partial satisfaction, and thatpartial satisfaction soon diminishes. 'Even in laughter the heart issorrowful, and the end of that mirth is heaviness.'

That is the experience of all men, and I need not dwell upon thethreadbare commonplaces which have survived from generation togeneration, because each generation in turn has found them sopiteously true, about the incompleteness and the fleetingness of allthe joys and treasures of this life. The awful power of habit, ifthere were no other reason, takes the edge off all gratificationexcept in so far as God is in it. Nothing fully retains its power tosatisfy. Nothing has that power absolutely at any moment; but evenwhat measure of it any of our possessions or pursuits may have for atime, soon, or at all events by degrees, passes away. The greater partof life is but like drinking out of empty cups, and the cups drop fromour hands. What one of our purest and peacefullest poets said in hishaste about all his kind is true in spirit of all godless lives:—

'We poets, in our youth, begin in gladness,
But thereof cometh, in the end, despondency and madness.'

'Vanity of vanities! saith'—not the Preacher only, but the inmostheart of every godless man and woman—'vanity of vanities! all isvanity!'

And do not forget that, partial and transient as these satisfactionsof which I have been speaking are, they derive what power of helpingand satisfying is in them only from the silence of our consciences,and our success in being able to shut out realities. One word, theysay, spoken too loud, brings down the avalanche, and beneath itswhite, cold death, the active form is motionless and the beating heartlies still. One word from conscience, one touch of an awakenedreflectiveness, one glance at the end—the coffin and the shroud andwhat comes after these—slay your worldly satisfactions as surely asthat falling snow would crush some light-winged, gauzy butterfly thathad been dancing at the cliff's foot. Your jewellery is all imitation.It is well enough for candle-light. Would you like to try the testingacid upon it? Here is a drop of it. 'Know thou that for all thesethings God will bring thee into judgment.' Does it smoke? or does itstand the test? Here is another drop. 'This night thy soul shall berequired of thee.' Does it stand that test? My brother! do not beafraid to take in all the facts of your earthly life, and do notpretend to satisfy yourselves with satisfactions which dare not facerealities, and shrivel up at their presence.

These fatal helpers come as friends and allies, and they remain asmasters. Ahaz and a hundred other weak princes have tried the policyof sending for a strong foreign power to scatter their enemies, and ithas always turned out one way. The foreigner has come and he hasstopped. The auxiliary has become the lord, and he that called him tohis aid becomes his tributary. Ay! and so it is with all the things ofthis world. Here is some pleasant indulgence that I call to my helplightly and thoughtlessly. It is very agreeable and does what I wantedwith it, and I try it again. Still it answers to my call. And thenafter a while I say, 'I am going to give that up,' and I cannot, Ihave brought in a master when I thought I was only bringing in an allythat I could dismiss when I liked. The sides of the pit are veryslippery; it is gay travelling down them, but when the animal istrapped at the bottom there is no possibility of getting up again. Sosome of you, dear friends! have got masters in your delights, mastersin your pursuits, masters in your habits. These are your gods, theseare your tyrants, and you will find out that they are so, if ever, inyour own strength, you try to break away from them.

So let me plead with you. With some of you, perhaps, my voice, as afamiliar voice, that in some measure, however undeservedly, you trust,may have influence. Let me plead with you—do not run after thesewill-o'-the-wisps that will only lure you into destruction, but followthe light of life which is Jesus Christ Himself. Do not take thesetyrants for your helpers, who will master you under pretence of aidingyou; and work their will of you instead of lightening your burden. Thesame unwise and hopeless mode of life, which we have been describingthis evening by one symbolic illustration, as calling vain helpers toour aid, was presented by Ahaz's great contemporary Isaiah, in wordswhich Ahaz himself may have heard, as 'striking a covenant with death,and making lies our refuge.' Some of us, alas! have been doing thatall our lives. Let such hearken to the solemn words which may haverung in the ears of this unworthy king. 'Judgment also will I lay tothe line, and righteousness to the plummet, and the hail shall sweepaway the refuge of lies.' I come to you, dear friends! to press onyour acceptance the true Guide and Helper—even Jesus Christ yourBrother, in whose single Self you will find all that you have vainlysought dispersed 'at sundry times and in divers manners'—amongcreatures. Take Him for your Saviour by trusting your whole selves toHim. He is the Sacrifice by whose blood all our sins are washed away,and the Indweller, by whose Spirit all our spirits are ennobled andgladdened. I ask you to take Him for your Helper, who will neverdeceive you; to call whom to our aid is to be secure and victoriousfor ever. 'Behold! I lay in Zion for a foundation a stone, a triedstone, a precious cornerstone, a sure foundation: he that believethshall not make haste.'

A GODLY REFORMATION

'Hezekiah began to reign when he was five and twenty years old, and hereigned nine and twenty years in Jerusalem. And his mother's name wasAbijah, the daughter of Zechariah. 2. And he did that which was rightin the sight of the Lord, according to all that David his father haddone. 3. He in the first year of his reign, in the first mouth, openedthe doors of the house of the Lord, and repaired them. 4. And hebrought in the priests and the Levites, and gathered them togetherinto the east street, 5. And said unto them, Hear me, ye Levites;Sanctify now yourselves, and sanctify the house of the Lord God ofyour fathers, and carry forth the filthiness out of the holy place. 6.For our fathers have trespassed, and done that which was evil in theeyes of the Lord our God, and have forsaken Him, and have turned awaytheir faces from the habitation of the Lord, and turned their backs.7. Also they have shut up the doors of the porch, and put out thelamps, and have not burnt incense, nor offered burnt-offerings in theholy place unto the God of Israel. 8. Wherefore the wrath of the Lordwas upon Judah and Jerusalem, and He hath delivered them to trouble,to astonishment, and to hissing, as ye see with your eyes. 9. For, lo,our fathers have fallen by the sword; and our sons and our daughtersand our wives are in captivity for this. 10. Now it is in mine heartto make a covenant with the Lord God of Israel, that His fierce wrathmay turn away from us. 11. My sons, be not now negligent: for the Lordhath chosen you to stand before Him, to serve Him, and that ye shouldminister unto Him, and burn incense.'—2 CHRON. xxix. 1-11.

Hezekiah, the best of the later kings, had the worst for his father,and another almost as bad for his son. His own piety was probablydeepened by the mad extravagance of his father's boundless idolatry,which brought the kingdom to the verge of ruin. Action and reactionare equal and contrary. Saints grown amidst fashionable and deepcorruption are generally strong, and reformers usually arise from themidst of the systems which they overthrow. Hezekiah came to atottering throne and an all but beggared nation, ringed around bytriumphant enemies. His brave young heart did not quail. He sought'first the kingdom of God, and His righteousness,' and of the twopressing needs for Judah, political peace and religious purity, hebegan with the last. The Book of Kings tells at most length the civilhistory; the Book of Chronicles, as usual, lays most stress on theecclesiastical. The two complete each other. The present passage givesa beautiful picture of the vigorous, devout young king setting aboutthe work of reformation.

We may note, first, his prompt action. Joash had to whip up thereluctant priests with his 'See that ye hasten the matter!' Hezekiahlets no grass grow under his feet, but begins his reforms with hisreign. 'The first month' (ver. 3) possibly, indeed, means the firstmonth of the calendar, not of Hezekiah, who may have come to thethrone in the later part of the Jewish year; but, in any case, no timewas lost. The statement in verse 3 may be taken as a generalresume of what follows in detail, but this vigorous speech tothe priests was clearly among the new king's first acts. No doubt hispurpose had slowly grown while his father was affronting Heaven withhis mania for idols. Such decisive, swift action does not come withoutprotracted, previous brooding. The hidden fires gather slowly in thesilent crater, however rapidly they burst out at last.

We can never begin good things too early, and when we come into newpositions, it is always prudence as well as bravery to show ourcolours unmistakably from the first. Many a young man, launched amongfresh associations, has been ruined because of beginning withtemporising timidity. It is easier to take the right standing at firstthan to shift to it afterwards. Hezekiah might have been excused if hehad thought that the wretched state of political affairs left by Ahazneeded his first attention. Edomites on the east, Philistines on thewest and south, Syrians and Assyrians on the north, 'compassed himabout like bees,' and worldly prudence would have said, 'Look afterthese enemies today, and the Temple tomorrow.' He was wiser than that,knowing that these were effects of the religious corruption, and so hewent at that first. It is useless trying to mend a nation's fortunesunless you mend its morals and religion.

And there are some things which are best done quickly, both inindividual and national life. Leaving off bad habits by degrees is nothopeful. The only thing to be done is to break with them utterly andat once. One strong, swift blow, right through the heart, kills thewild beast. Slighter cuts may make him bleed to death, but he may killyou first. The existing state was undeniably sinful. There was no needfor deliberation as to that. Therefore there was no reason for delay.Let us learn the lesson that, where conscience has no doubts, weshould have no dawdling. 'I made haste, and delayed not to keep thycommandment.'

Note, too, in Hezekiah's speech, the true order of religiousreformation. The priests and Levites were not foremost in it, asindeed is only too often the case with ecclesiastics in all ages.Probably many of them had been content to serve Ahaz as priests of hismultiform idolatry. At all events, they needed 'sanctifying,' thoughno doubt the word is here used in reference to merely ceremonialuncleanness. Still the requirement that they should cleanse themselvesbefore they cleansed the Temple has more than ceremonial significance.Impure hands are not fit for the work of religious reformation, thoughthey have often been employed in it. What was the weakness of theReformation but that the passions of princes and nobles were so soonand generally enlisted for it, and marred it? He that enters into theholy place, especially if his errand be to cleanse it, must have'clean hands, and a pure heart.' The hands that wielded the whip ofsmall cords, and drove out the money-changers, were stainless, andtherefore strong. Some of us are very fond of trying to set churchesto rights. Let us begin with ourselves, lest, like careless servants,we leave dirty finger-marks where we have been 'cleaning.'

The next point in the speech is the profound and painful sense ofexisting corruption. Note the long-drawn-out enumeration of evils inverses 6 and 7, starting with the general recognition of the fathers'trespass, advancing to the more specific sin of forsaking Him and Hishouse, and dwelling, finally, as with fascinated horror, on all thedetails of closed shrine and quenched lamps and cold altars. Thehistorical truth of the picture is confirmed by the close of theprevious chapter, and its vividness shows how deeply Hezekiah had feltthe shame and sin of Ahaz. It is not easy to keep clear of theinfluence of prevailing corruptions of religion. Familiarity weakensabhorrence, and the stained embodiments of the ideal hide its purityfrom most eyes. But no man will be God's instrument to make society,the church, or the home, better, unless he feels keenly the existingevils. We do not need to cherish a censorious spirit, but we do needto guard against an unthinking acquiescence in the present state ofthings, and a self-complacent reluctance to admit their departure fromthe divine purpose for the church. There is need to-day for a likeprofound consciousness of evil, and like efforts after new purity. Ifwe individually lived nearer God, we should be less acclimatised tothe Church's imperfections. No doubt Hezekiah's clear sight of thesinfulness of the idolatry so universal round him was largely owing toIsaiah's influence. Eyes which have caught sight of the true King ofIsrael, and of the pure light of His kingdom, will be purged todiscern the sore need for purifying the Lord's house.

The clear insight into the national sin gives as clear understandingof the national suffering. Hezekiah speaks, in verses 8 and 9, as theLaw and the Prophets had been speaking for centuries, and as God'sprovidence had been uttering in act all through the national history.But so slow are men to learn familiar truths that Ahaz had grasped atidol after idol to rescue him; 'but they were the ruin of him, and ofall Israel.' How difficult it is to hammer plain truths, even with themallet of troubles, into men's heads! How blind we all are to thecausal connection between sin and sorrow! Hezekiah saw the iron linkuniting them, and his whole policy was based upon that 'wherefore.' Ofcourse, if we accept the Biblical statements as to the divine dealingwith Israel and Judah, obedience and disobedience were there followedby reward and suffering more certainly and directly than is now thecase in either national or individual life. But it still remains truethat it is a 'bitter' as well as an 'evil' thing to depart from theliving God. If we would find the cause of our own or of a nation'ssorrows, we had better begin our search among our or its sins.

That phrase 'an astonishment, and an hissing' (ver. 8) is new. Itappears for the first time in Micah (Micah vi. 16), and he, we know,exercised influence on Hezekiah (Jer. xxvi. 18, 19). Perhaps the kingis here quoting the prophet.

The exposition of the sin and its fruit is followed by the king'sresolve for himself, and, so far as may be, for his people. The phrase'it is in my heart' expresses fixed determination, not mere wish. Itis used by David and of him, in reference to his resolve to build theTemple. 'To make a covenant' probably means to renew the covenant,made long ago at Sinai, but broken by sin. The king has made up hismind, and announces his determination. He does not consult priests orpeople, but expects their acquiescence. So, in the early days ofChristianity, the 'conversion' of a king meant that of his people. Ofcourse, the power of the kings of Israel and Judah to change thenational religion at their pleasure shows how slightly any religionhad penetrated, and how much, at the best, it was a matter of mereceremonial worship with the masses. People who worshipped Ahaz'srabble of gods and godlings to-day because he bade them, andHezekiah's God to-morrow, had little worship for either, and were muchthe same through all changes.

Hezekiah was in earnest, and his resolve was none the less rightbecause it was moved by a desire to turn away the fierce anger of theLord. Dread of sin's consequences and a desire to escape these is nounworthy motive, however some superfine moralists nowadays may call itso. It is becoming unfashionable to preach 'the terror of the Lord.'The more is the pity, and the less is the likelihood of persuadingmen. But, however kindled, the firm determination (which does not waitfor others to concur) that 'As for me, I will serve the Lord,' is thegrand thing for us all to imitate. That strong young heart showeditself kingly in its resolve, as it had shown itself sensitive to eviland tender in contemplating the widespread sorrow. If we would braceour feeble wills, and screw them to the sticking-point of immovabledetermination to make a covenant with God, let us meditate on ourdepartures from Him, the Lover and Benefactor of our souls, and on thedreadfulness of His anger and the misery of those who forsake Him.

Once more the king turns to the priests. He began and he finishes withthem, as if he were not sure of their reliableness. His tone iskindly, 'My sons,' but yet monitory. They would not have been warnedagainst 'negligence' unless they had obviously needed it, nor wouldthey have been stimulated to their duties by reminding them of theirprerogatives, unless they had been apt to slight these. Officials,whose business is concerned with the things of God, are often apt todrop into an easy-going pace. Negligent work may suit unimportantoffices, but is hideously inconsistent with the tasks and aims ofGod's servants. If there is any work which has to be done 'with bothhands, earnestly,' it is theirs. Unless we put all our strength intoit, we shall get no good for ourselves or others out of it. The utmosttension of all powers, the utmost husbanding of every moment, isabsolutely demanded by the greatness of the task; and the voice of thegreat Master says to all His servants, 'My sons, be not nownegligent.' Ungirt loins and unlit lamps are fatal.

We should meditate, too, on the prerogatives and lofty offices towhich Christ calls those who love Him; not to minister toself-complacency, as if we were so much better than other men, but todeepen our sense of responsibility, and stir us to strenuous effortsto be what we are called to be. If Christian people thought moreearnestly on what Jesus Christ means them to be to the world, theywould not so often counterwork His purpose and shirk their own duties.Crowns are heavy to wear. Gifts are calls to service. If we are chosento be His ministers, we have solemn responsibilities. If we are toburn incense before Him, our censers need to be bright and free fromstrange fire. If we are the lights of the world, our business is toshine.

SACRIFICE RENEWED

'Then they went in to Hezekiah the king, and said, We have cleansedall the house of the Lord, and the altar of burnt-offering, with allthe vessels thereof, and the shew-bread table, with all the vesselsthereof. 19. Moreover, all the vessels, which king Ahaz in his reigndid cast away in his transgression, have we prepared and sanctified,and, behold, they are before the altar of the Lord. 20. Then Hezekiahthe king rose early, and gathered the rulers of the city, and went upto the house of the Lord. 21. And they brought seven bullocks, andseven rams, and seven lambs, and seven he goats, for a sin-offeringfor the kingdom, and for the sanctuary, and for Judah. And hecommanded the priests, the sons of Aaron, to offer them on the altarof the Lord. 22. So they killed the bullocks, and the priests receivedthe blood, and sprinkled it on the altar: likewise, when they hadkilled the rams, they sprinkled the blood upon the altar: they killedalso the lambs, and they sprinkled the blood upon the altar. 23. Andthey brought forth the he goats for the sin-offering before the kingand the congregation; and they laid their hands upon them. 24. And thepriests killed them, and they made reconciliation with their bloodupon the altar, to make an atonement for all Israel: for the kingcommanded that the burnt-offering and the sin-offering should be madefor all Israel. 25. And he set the Levites in the house of the Lordwith cymbals, with psalteries, and with harps, according to thecommandment of David, and of Gad the king's seer, and Nathan theprophet: for so was the commandment of the Lord by His prophets. 26.And the Levites stood with the instruments of David, and the priestswith the trumpets. 27. And Hezekiah commanded to offer theburnt-offering upon the altar. And when the burnt-offering began, thesong of the Lord began also with the trumpets, and with theinstruments ordained by David king of Israel. 28. And all thecongregation worshipped, and the singers sang, and the trumpeterssounded: and all this continued until the burnt-offering was finished.29. And when they had made an end of offering, the king and all thatwere present with him bowed themselves, and worshipped. 30. Moreover,Hezekiah the king and the princes commanded the Levites to singpraises unto the Lord with the words of David, and of Asaph the seer.And they sang praises with gladness, and they bowed their heads andworshipped. 31. Then Hezekiah answered and said, Now ye haveconsecrated yourselves unto the Lord, come near, and bring sacrificesand thank-offerings into the house of the Lord. And the congregationbrought in sacrifices and thank-offerings; and as many as were of afree heart burnt offerings.—2 CHRON. xxix. 18-31.

Ahaz, Hezekiah's father, had wallowed in idolatry, worshipping any andevery god but Jehovah. He had shut up the Temple, defiled the sacredvessels, and 'made him altars in every corner of Jerusalem.' And theresult was that he brought the kingdom very near ruin, was not allowedto be buried in the tombs of the kings, and left his son a heavy taskto patch up the mischief he had wrought. Hezekiah began at the rightend of his task. 'In the first year of his reign, in the first month,'he set about restoring the worship of Jehovah. The relations withSyria and Damascus would come right if the relations with Judah's Godwere right. 'First things first' was his motto, and perhaps hediscerned the true sequence more accurately than some great politicalpundits do nowadays. So neglected had the Temple been that a strongforce of priests and Levites took a fortnight to 'carry forth thefilthiness out of the holy place to the brook Kidron,' and to cleanseand ceremonially sanctify the sacred vessels. Then followed at oncethe re-establishment of the Temple worship, which is narrated in thepassage.

The first thing to be noted is that the whole movement back to Jehovahwas a one-man movement. It was Hezekiah's doing and his only. Nopriest is named as prominent in it, and the slowness of the wholeorder is especially branded in verse 34. No prophet is named; wasthere any one prompting the king? Perhaps Isaiah did, though hischapter i. with its scathing repudiation of 'the burnt offerings oframs and the fat of fed beasts,' suggests that he did not think therestoration of sacrifice so important as that the nation should 'ceaseto do evil and learn to do well.' The people acquiesced in the king'sworship of Jehovah, as they had acquiesced in other kings' worship ofBaal or Moloch or Hadad. When kings take to being religious reformers,they make swift converts, but their work is as slight as it is speedy,and as short-lived as it is rapid. Manasseh was Hezekiah's successor,and swept away all his work after twenty-nine years, and apparentlythe mass of his people followed him just as they had followedHezekiah. Religion must be a matter of personal conviction andindividual choice. Imposed from without, or adopted because otherpeople adopt it, it is worthless.

Another point to notice is that Hezekiah's reformation was mainlydirected to ritual, and does not seem to have included either theologyor ethics. Was be quite right in his estimate of what was the firstthing? Isaiah, in the passage already referred to, does not seem tothink so. To him, as to all the prophets, foul hands could not bringacceptable sacrifices, and worship was an abomination unless precededby obedience to the command: 'Put away the evil of your doings frombefore Mine eyes.' The filth in the hearts of the men of Judah wasmore 'rank, and smelt to heaven' more offensively, than that in theTemple, which took sixteen days to shovel into Kidron. No doubtceremonial bulked more largely in the days of the Old Covenant than itdoes in those of the New, and both the then stage of revelation andthe then spiritual stature of the recipients of revelation requiredthat it should do so. But the true religious reformers, the prophets,were never weary of insisting that, even in those days, moral andspiritual reformation should come first, and that unless it did,ritual worship, though it were nominally offered to Jehovah, was asabhorrent to Him as if it had been avowedly offered to Baal. Not alittle so-called Christian worship today, judged by the same test, isas truly heathen superstition as if it had been paid to Mumbo-Jumbo.

But when all deductions have been made, the scene depicted in thepassage is not only an affecting, but an instructive one. Strangelyunlike our notions of worship, and to us almost repulsive, must havebeen the slaying of three hundred and seventy animals and the offeringof them as burnt offerings. Try to picture the rivers of blood, thecontortions of the dumb brutes, the priests bedaubed with gore, thesmell of the burnt flesh, the blare of the trumpets, the shouts of theworshippers, the clashing cymbals, and realise what a world parts itfrom 'They went up into the upper chamber where they were abiding …these all with one accord continued steadfastly in prayer, with thewomen, and Mary, the mother of Jesus, and with His brethren'!Sacrifice has been the essential feature in all religions beforeChrist. It has dropped out of worship wherever Christ has beenaccepted. Why? Because it spoke of a deep, permanent, universal need,and because Christ was recognised as having met the need. People whodeny the need, and people who deny that Jesus on the Cross hassatisfied it, may be invited to explain these two facts, written largeon the history of humanity.

That brings us to the most important aspect of Hezekiah's greatsacrifice. It sets forth the stages by which men can approach to God.It is symbolic of spiritual facts, and prophetic of Christ's work andof our way of coming to God through Him. The first requisite forJudah's return to Jehovah, whom they had forsaken, was thepresentation of a 'sin offering.' The king and the congregation laidtheir hands on the heads of the goats, thereby, as it were,transferring their own sinful personality to them. Thus laden with thenation's sins, they were slain, and in their death the nation, as itwere, bore the penalty of its sin. Representation and substitutionwere dramatised in the sacrifice. The blood sprinkled on the altar(which had previously been 'sanctified' by sprinkling of blood, and somade capable of presenting what touched it to Jehovah), made'atonement for all Israel.' We note in passing the emphasis of'Israel' here, extending the benefit of the sacrifice to the separatedtribes of the Northern Kingdom, in a gush of yearning love and desirethat they, too, might be reconciled to Jehovah. And is not this thefirst step towards any man's reconciliation with God? Is not

'My faith would lay her hand
On that dear head of Thine,'

the true expression of the first requisite for us all? Jesus is thesin-offering for the world. In His death He bears the world's sin. Hisblood is presented to God, and if we have associated ourselves withHim by faith, that blood sprinkled on the altar covers all our sins.

Then followed in this parabolic ceremonial the burnt offering. Andthat is the second stage of our return to God, for it expresses theconsecration of our forgiven selves, as being consumed by the holy andblessed fire of a self-devotion, kindled by the 'unspeakable gift,'which fire, burning away all foulness, will make us tenfold ourselves.That fire will burn up only our bonds, and we shall walk at liberty init. And that burnt-offering will always be accompanied with 'the songof Jehovah,' and the joyful sound of the trumpets and 'the instrumentsof David.' The treasures of Christian poetry have always been inspiredby the Cross, and the consequent rapture of self-surrender. Calvary isthe true fountain of song.

The last stage in Hezekiah's great sacrifice was 'thank-offerings,'brought by 'as many as were of a willing heart.' And will not theself-devotion, kindled by the fire of love, speak in daily life bypractical service, and the whole activities of the redeemed man be along thank-offering for the Lamb who 'bears away the sins of theworld'? And if we do not thus offer our whole lives to God, how shallwe profess to have taken the priceless benefit of Christ's death?Hezekiah followed the order laid down in the Law, and it is the onlyorder that leads to the goal. First, the atoning sacrifice of theslain Lamb; next, our identification with Him and it by faith; thenthe burnt-offering of a surrendered self, with the song of praisesounding ever through it; and last, the life of service, offering allour works to God, and so reaching the perfection of life on earth andantedating the felicities of heaven.

A LOVING CALL TO REUNION

'And Hezekiah sent to all Israel and Judah, and wrote letters also toEphraim and Manasseh, that they should come to the house of the Lordat Jerusalem, to keep the passover unto the Lord God of Israel. 2. Forthe king had taken counsel, and his princes, and all the congregationin Jerusalem, to keep the passover in the second month. 3. For theycould not keep it at that time, because the priests had not sanctifiedthemselves sufficiently, neither had the people gathered themselvestogether to Jerusalem. 4. And the thing pleased the king and all thecongregation. 5. So they established a decree to make proclamationthroughout all Israel, from Beersheba even to Dan, that they shouldcome to keep the passover unto the Lord God of Israel at Jerusalem:for they had not done it of a long time in such sort as it waswritten. 6. So the posts went with the letters from the king and hisprinces throughout all Israel and Judah, and according to thecommandment of the king, saying, Ye children of Israel, turn againunto the Lord God of Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, and he will return tothe remnant of you, that are escaped out of the hand of the kings ofAssyria. 7. And be not ye like your fathers, and like your brethren,which trespassed against the Lord God of their fathers, who thereforegave them up to desolation, as ye see. 8. Now, be ye not stiffnecked,as your fathers were, but yield yourselves unto the Lord, and enterinto His sanctuary, which He hath sanctified for ever: and serve theLord your God, that the fierceness of His wrath may turn away fromyou. 9. For if ye turn again unto the Lord, your brethren and yourchildren shall find compassion before them that lead them captive, sothat they shall come again into this land: for the Lord your God isgracious and merciful, and will not turn away His face from you, if yereturn unto Him. 10. So the posts passed from city to city through thecountry of Ephraim and Manasseh, even unto Zebulun: but they laughedthem to scorn, and mocked them. 11. Nevertheless divers of Asher andManasseh and of Zebulun humbled themselves, and came to Jerusalem. 12.Also in Judah the hand of God was to give them one heart to do thecommandment of the king and of the princes, by the word of the Lord.13. And there assembled at Jerusalem much people to keep the feast ofunleavened bread in the second month, a very great congregation.'—2CHRON. xxx. 1-13.

The date of Hezekiah's passover is uncertain, for, while the immediateconnection of this narrative with the preceding account of hiscleansing the Temple and restoring the sacrificial worship suggeststhat the passover followed directly on those events, which took placeat the beginning of the reign, the language employed in the message tothe northern tribes (vers. 6,7, 9) seems to imply the previous fall ofthe kingdom of Israel, If so, this passover did not occur till after721 B.C., the date of the capture of Samaria, six years afterHezekiah's accession.

The sending of messengers from Jerusalem on such an errand wouldscarcely have been possible if the northern kingdom had still beenindependent. Perhaps its fall was thought by Hezekiah to open the doorto drawing 'the remnant that were escaped' back to the ancient unityof worship, at all events, if not of polity. No doubt a large numberhad been left in the northern territory, and Hezekiah may have hopedthat calamity had softened their enmity to his kingdom, and perhapstouched them with longings for the old worship. At all events, like agood man, he will stretch out a hand to the alienated brethren, nowthat evil days have fallen on them. The hour of an enemy's calamityshould be our opportunity for seeking to help and profferingreconciliation. We may find that trouble inclines wanderers to comeback to God.

The alteration of the time of keeping the passover from the thirteenthday of the first month to the same day of the second was in accordancewith the liberty granted in Numbers ix. 10, 11, to persons unclean bycontact with a dead body or 'in a journey afar off.' The decision tohave the passover was not taken in time to allow of the necessaryremoval of uncleanness from the priests nor of the assembling of thepeople, and therefore the permission to defer it for a month was takenadvantage of, in order to allow full time for the despatch of themessengers and the journeys of the farthest northern tribes. It is tobe observed that Hezekiah took his subjects into counsel, since thestep intended was much too great for him to venture on of his own meremotion. So the overtures went out clothed with the authority of thewhole kingdom of Judah. It was the voice of a nation that sought towoo back the secessionists.

The messengers were instructed to supplement the official letters ofinvitation with earnest entreaties as from the king, of which the gistis given in verses 6-9. With the skill born of intense desire to drawthe long-parted kingdoms together, the message touches on ancestralmemories, recent bitter experiences, yearnings for the captivekinsfolk, the instinct of self-preservation, and rises at last intothe clear light of full faith in, and insight into, God's infiniteheart of pardoning pity.

Note the very first words, 'Ye children of Israel,' and consider theeffect of this frank recognition of the northern kingdom as part ofthe undivided Israel. Such recognition might have been misunderstoodor spurned when Samaria was gay and prosperous; but when its palaceswere desolate, the effect of the old name, recalling happier days,must have been as if the elder brother had come out from the father'shouse and entreated the prodigal to come back to his place at thefireside. The battle would be more than half won if the appeal thatwas couched in the very name of Israel was heeded.

Note further how firmly and yet lovingly the sin of the northernkingdom is touched on. The name of Jehovah as the God of Abraham,Isaac, and Israel, recalls the ancient days when the undivided peopleworshipped Him, and the still more ancient, and, to hearers andspeakers alike, more sacred, days when the patriarchs receivedwondrous tokens that He was their God, and they were His people; whilethe recurrence of 'Israel' as the name of Jacob adds force to itsprevious use as the name of all His descendants. The possiblerejection of the invitation, on the ground which the men of the north,like the Samaritan woman, might have taken, that they were true totheir fathers' worship, is cut away by the reminder that that worshipwas an innovation, since the fathers of the present generation hadbeen apostate from the God of their fathers. The appeal toantiquity often lands men in a bog because it is not carried farenough back. 'The fathers' may lead astray, but if the antiquity towhich we appeal is that of which the New Testament is the record, themore conservative we are, the nearer the truth shall we be.

Again, the message touched on a chord that might easily have given ajarring note; namely, the misfortunes of the kingdom. But it was donewith so delicate a hand, and so entirely without a trace of rejoicingin a neighbour's calamities, that no susceptibilities could beruffled, while yet the solemn lesson is unfalteringly pointed. 'Hegave them up to desolation, as ye see.' Behind Assyria was Jehovah,and Israel's fall was not wholly explained by the disparity betweenits strength and the conquerors'. Under and through the play ofcriminal ambition, cruelty, and earthly politics, the unseen Handwrought; and the teaching of all the Old Testament history iscondensed into that one sad sentence, which points to facts as plainas tragical. In deepest truth it applies to each of us; for, if wetrespass against God, we draw down evil on our heads with both hands,and shall find that sin brings the worst desolation—that which shedsgloom over a godless soul.

We note further the deep true insight into God's character and waysexpressed in this message. There is a very striking variation in thethree designations of Jehovah as 'the God of Abraham, Isaac, andIsrael' (ver. 6), 'the god of their [that is, the precedinggeneration] fathers' (ver. 7), and 'your God' (ver. 8). The relationwhich had subsisted from of old had not been broken by man's apostasy,Jehovah still was, in a true sense, their God, even if His relation tothem only bound Him not to leave them unpunished. So their verysufferings proved them His, for 'What son is he whom the fatherchasteneth not?' But strong, sunny confidence in God shines from thewhole message, and reaches its climax in the closing assurance that Heis merciful and gracious. The evil results of rebellion are notomitted, but they are not dwelt on. The true magnet to draw wanderersback to God is the loving proclamation of His love. Unless we are surethat He has a heart tender with all pity, and 'open as day to meltingcharity,' we shall not turn to Him with our hearts.

The message puts the response which it sought in a variety of ways;namely, turning to Jehovah, not being stiff-necked, yielding selves toJehovah, entering into His sanctuary. More than outward participationin the passover ceremonial is involved. Submission of will,abandonment of former courses of action, docility of spirit ready tobe directed anywhere, the habit of abiding with God by communion—allthese, the standing characteristics of the religious life, are atleast suggested by the invitations here. We are all summoned thus toyield ourselves to God, and especially to do so by surrendering ourwills to Him, and to 'enter into His sanctuary,' by keeping up suchcommunion with Him as that, however and wherever occupied, we shallstill 'dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of our lives.'

And the summons to return unto God is addressed to us all even moreurgently than to Israel. God Himself invites us by the voice of Hisprovidences, by His voice within, and by the voice of Jesus Himself,who is ever saying to each of us, by His death and passion, by Hisresurrection and ascension, 'Turn ye! turn ye! why will ye die?' andwho has more than endorsed Hezekiah's messengers' assurance that'Jehovah will not turn away His face from' us by His own graciouspromise, 'Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out.'

The king's message met a mingled reception. Some mocked, some weremoved and accepted. So, alas! is it with the better message, which iseither 'a savour of life unto life or of death unto death.' The samefire melts wax and hardens clay. May it be with all of us as it was inJudah—that we 'have one heart, to do the commandment' and to acceptthe merciful summons to the great passover!

A STRANGE REWARD FOR FAITHFULNESS

'After these things, and the establishment thereof, Sennacherib, kingof Assyria, came.'—2 CHRON. XXXII. 1.

The Revised Version gives a much more accurate and significantrendering of a part of these words. It reads: 'After these things andthis faithfulness, Sennacherib, king of Assyria, came.' Whatare 'these things' and 'this faithfulness'? The former are the wholeof the events connected with the religious reformation in Judah, whichKing Hezekiah inaugurated and carried through so brilliantly andsuccessfully. This 'faithfulness' directly refers to a word in acouple of verses before the text: 'Thus did Hezekiah throughout allJudah; and he wrought that which was good and right andfaithfulness before the Lord his God.' And, after these things,the re-establishment of religion and this 'faithfulness,' thoughHezekiah was perfect before God in all ritual observances and inpractical righteousness, and though he was seeking the Lord his Godwith all his heart, here is what came of it:—'After this faithfulnesscame' not blessings or prosperity, but 'Sennacherib, king of Assyria'!The chronicler not only tells this as singular, but one can feel thathe is staggered by it. There is a tone of perplexity and wonder in hisvoice as he records that this was what followed the faithfulrighteousness and heart-devotion of the best king that ever sat on thethrone of Judah. I think that this royal martyr's experience is reallya mirror of the experience of devout men in all ages and a revelationof the great law and constant processes of the Divine Providence. Andfrom that point of view I wish to speak now, not only on the words Ihave read, but on what follows them.

I. We have here the statement of the mystery.

It is the standing puzzle of the Old Testament, how good men come tobe troubled, and how bad men come to be prosperous. And although weChristian men and women are a great deal too apt to suppose that wehave outlived that rudimentary puzzle of the religious mind, yet I donot think by any means that we have. For we hear men, when the rodfalls upon themselves, saying, 'What have I done that I should besmitten thus?' or when their friends suffer, saying, 'What amarvellous thing it is that such a good man as A, B, or C should haveso much trouble!' or, when widespread calamities strike a community,standing aghast at the broad and dark shadows that fall upon a nationor a continent, and wondering what the meaning of all this heapedmisery is, and why the world is thus allowed to run along its coursesurrounded by an atmosphere made up of the breath of sighs, andswathed in clouds which are moist with tears.

My text gives us an illustration in the sharpest form of the mystery.'After these things and this faithfulness, Sennacherib came'—and healways comes in one shape or another. For, to begin with, a good man'sgoodness does not lift him out of the ordinary associations andcontingencies and laws of life. If he has inherited a diseasedconstitution, his devotion will not make him a healthy man. If he haslittle common sense, his godliness will not make him prosper inworldly affairs. If he is tied to unfortunate connections, he willhave to suffer. If he happens to be in a decaying branch of business,his prayers will not make him prosperous. If he falls in the way ofpoisonous gas from a sewer, his godliness will not exempt him from anattack of fever. So all round the horizon we see this: that the godlyman is involved like any other man in the ordinary contingencies andpossible evils of life. Then, have we to say that God has nothing todo with these?

Again, Hezekiah's story teaches us how second causes are God'sinstruments, and He is at the back of everything. There are twosources of our knowledge of the history of Judah in the time withwhich we are concerned. One is the Bible, the other is the Assyrianmonuments; and it is a most curious contrast to read the twonarratives of the same events, agreeing about the facts, butdisagreeing utterly in the spirit. Why? Because the one tells thestory from the world's point of view, and the other tells it fromGod's point of view. So when you take the one narrative, it is simplythis: 'There was a conspiracy down in the south against the politicalsupremacy of Assyria, and a lot of little confederate kingletsgathered themselves; and Hezekiah, of Judah, was one, along withSo-and-So of such-and-such a petty land, and they leaned upon Egypt;and I, Sennacherib, came down among them, and they tumbled to pieces,and that is all.' Then the Bible comes in, and it says that Godordered all those political complications, and that they were all theworking out of His purposes, and that 'the axe in His hand' as Isaiahhas it so picturesquely, was this proud king of Assyria, with hisboastful mouth and vainglorious words.

Now, that is the principle by which we have to estimate all the eventsthat befall us. There are two ways of looking at them. You may look atthem from the under side or from the top side. You may see them asthey appear to men who cannot look beyond their noses and only haveconcern with the visible cranks and shafting, or you may look at themfrom the engine-room and take account of the invisible power thatdrives them all. In the one case you will regard it as a mystery thatgood men should have to suffer so; in the other case, you will say,'It is the Lord, let Him do'—even when He does it through Sennacheriband his like, 'let Him do what seemeth Him good.'

Then there is another thing to be taken into account—that is, thatthe better a man is, the more faithful he is and the more closely hecleaves to God, and seeks, like this king, to do, with all his heart,all his work in the service of the House of God and to seek his God,the more sure is he to bring down upon himself certain forms oftrouble and trial. The rebellion which, from the Assyrian side of theriver, seemed to be a mere political revolt, from the Jordan side ofthe river seemed to be closely connected with the religiousreformation. And it was just because Hezekiah and his people came backto God that they rebelled against the King of Assyria and served himnot. If you provoke Sennacherib, Sennacherib will be down upon youvery quickly. That is to say, being translated, if you will live likeChristian men and women and fling down the gage of battle to the worldand to the evil that lies in every one of us, and say, 'No, I havenothing to do with you. My law is not your law, and, God helping me,my practice shall not be your practice,' then you will find out thatthe power that you have defied has a very long arm and a very tightgrasp, and you will have to make up your minds that, in some shape orother, the old law will be fulfilled about you. Through muchtribulation we must enter the Kingdom.

II. Now, secondly, my text and its context solve the mystery which itraises.

The chronicler, as I said, wishes us to notice the sequence, strangeas it is, and to wonder at it for a moment, in order that we may beprepared the better to take in the grand explanation that follows. Andthe explanation lies in the facts that ensue.

Did Sennacherib come to destroy? By no means! Here were the results:first, a stirring to wholesome energy and activity. If annoyances andtroubles and sorrows, great or small, do nothing else for us, theywould be clear and simple gain if they woke us up, for the half of menpass half of their lives half-asleep. And anybody that has ever comethrough a great sorrow and can remember what deep fountains wereopened in his heart that he knew nothing about before, and how powersthat were all unsuspected by himself suddenly came to him, and howlife, instead of being a trivial succession of nothings, all at oncebecame significant and solemn—any man who can remember that, willfeel that if there were nothing else that his troubles did for himthan to shake him out of torpor and rouse him to a tension ofwholesome activity, so that he cried out:

'Call forth thy powers, my soul! and dare
The conflict of unequal war,'

he would have occasion to bless God for the roughest handling. Thetropics are very pleasant for lazy people, but they sap theconstitution and make work impossible; and after a man has lived for awhile in their perpetual summer, he begins to long for damp and mistand frost and east winds which bring bracing to the system and makehim fit to work. God takes us often into very ungenial climates, andthe vindication of it is that we may be set to active service. Thatwas the first good thing that Sennacherib's coming did.

The next was that his invasion increased dependence upon God. You willremember the story of the insolent taunts and vulgar vaunting by himand his servants, and the one answer that was given: 'Hezekiah, theking, and Isaiah the son of Amoz the prophet, prayed and cried toGod.' Ah! dear brethren, any thing that drives us to His breast isblessing. We may call it evil when we speak from the point of view ofthe foolish senses and the quivering heart, but if it blows us intoHis arms, any wind, the roughest and the fiercest, is to be welcomedmore than lazy calms or gentle zephyrs. If, realising our own weaknessand impotence, we are made to hang more completely upon Him, then letus be thankful for whatever has been the means of such a blessedissue. That was the second good thing that Sennacherib did.

The third good thing that he—not exactly did—but that was donethrough him, was that experience of God's delivering power wasenriched. You remember the miracle of the destruction of the army. Ineed not dilate upon it. A man who can look back and say, 'Thou hastbeen with me in six troubles,' need never be afraid of the seventh;and he who has hung upon that strong rope when he has been swingingaway down in the darkness and asphyxiating atmosphere of the pit, andhas been drawn up into the sunshine again, will trust it for allcoming time. If there were no other explanation, the enlarged anddeepened experience of the realities of God's Gospel and of God'sgrace, which are bought only by sorrow, would be a sufficientexplanation of any sorrow that any of us have ever had to carry.

'Well roars the storm to him who hears
A deeper voice across the storm.'

There are large tracts of Scripture which have no meaning, noblessedness to us until they have been interpreted to us by losses andsorrows. We never know the worth of the lighthouse until the Novemberdarkness and the howling winds come down upon us, and then weappreciate its preciousness.

So, dear friends! the upshot of the whole is just that old teaching,that if we realised what life is for, we should wonder less at thesorrows that are in it. For life is meant to make us partakers of Hisholiness, not to make us happy. Our happiness is a secondary purpose,not out of view of the Divine love, but it is not the primary one. Andthe direct intention and mission of sorrow, like the direct intentionand mission of joy, are to further that great purpose, that we 'shouldbe partakers of His holiness.' 'Every branch in Me that beareth fruit,He purgeth it, that it may bring forth more fruit.'

III. Lastly, my text suggests a warning against letting prosperityundo adversity's work.

Hezekiah came bravely through his trials. They did exactly what Godwanted them to do; they drove him to God, they forced him down uponhis knees. When Sennacherib's letter came, he took it to the Templeand spread it before God, and said, 'O Lord! it is Thy business. It isaddressed to me, but it is meant for Thee; do Thou answer it.' And sohe received the help that he wanted. But he broke down after that. Hewas 'exalted'; and the allies, his neighbours, that had not lifted afinger to help him when he needed their help, sent him presents whichwould have been a great deal more seasonable when he was strugglingfor his life with Sennacherib. What 'came after (God's) faithfulness'?This—'his heart was lifted up, and he rendered not according to thebenefit rendered to him.' Therefore the blow had to come down again. Agreat many people take refuge in archways when it rains, and run outas soon as it holds up, and a great many people take religion as anumbrella, to put down when the sunshine comes. We cross the bridge andforget it, and when the leprosy is out of us we do not care to go backand give thanks. Sometimes too, we begin to think, 'After all, it waswe that killed Sennacherib's army, and not the angel.' And so, likedull scholars, we need the lesson repeated once, twice, thrice, 'herea little and there a little, precept upon precept, line upon line.'There is none of us that has so laid to heart our past difficultiesand trials that it is safe for God to burn the rod as long as we arein this life.

Dear friends! do not let it be said of us, 'In vain have I smitten thychildren. They have received no correction'; but rather let us keepclose to Him, and seek to learn the sweet and loving meaning of Hissharpest strokes. Then the little book, 'written within and withoutwith lamentation and woe,' which we all in our turn have to absorb andmake our own, may be 'bitter in the mouth,' but will be 'sweet ashoney' thereafter.

MANASSEH'S SIN AND REPENTANCE

'So Manasseh made Judah and the inhabitants of Jerusalem to err, andto do worse than the heathen, whom the Lord had destroyed before thechildren of Israel. 10. And the Lord spake to Manasseh, and to hispeople: but they would not hearken. 11. Wherefore the Lord broughtupon them the captains of the host of the king of Assyria, which tookManasseh among the thorns, and bound him with fetters, and carried himto Babylon. 12. And when he was in affliction, he besought the Lordhis God, and humbled himself greatly before the God of his fathers,13. And prayed unto him: and he was intreated of him, and heard hissupplication, and brought him again to Jerusalem into his kingdom.Then Manasseh knew that the Lord He was God. 14. Now after this hebuilt a wall without the city of David, on the west side of Gihon, inthe valley, even to the entering in at the fish gate, and compassedabout Ophel, and raised it up a very great height, and put captains ofwar in all the fenced cities of Judah. 15. And he took away thestrange gods, and the idol out of the house of the Lord, and all thealtars that he had built in the mount of the house of the Lord, and inJerusalem, and cast them out of the city. 16. And he repaired thealtar of the Lord, and sacrificed thereon peace offerings and thankofferings, and commanded Judah to serve the Lord God of Israel.'—2CHRON. xxxiii. 9-16.

The story of Manasseh's sin and repentance may stand as a typicalexample. Its historical authenticity is denied on the ground that itappears only in this Book of Chronicles. I must leave others todiscuss that matter; my purpose is to bring out the teaching containedin the story.

The first point in it is the stern indictment against Manasseh and hispeople. The experience which has saddened many a humbler home wasrepeated in the royal house, where a Hezekiah was followed by aManasseh, who scorned all that his father had worshipped, andworshipped all that his father had loathed. Happily the father's eyeswere closed long before the idolatrous bias of his son could havedisclosed itself. Succeeding to the throne at twelve years of age, hecould not have begun his evil ways at once, and probably would havebeen preserved from them if his father had lived long enough to mouldhis character. A child of twelve, flung on to a throne, was likely tocatch the infection of any sin that was in the atmosphere. Thenarrative specifies two points in which, as he matured in years, andwas confirmed in his course of conduct, he went wrong: first, in hisidolatry; and second, in his contempt of remonstrances and warnings.As to the former, the preceding context gives a terrible picture. Hewas smitten with a very delirium of idolatry, and wallowed in any andevery sort of false worship. No matter what strange god was presented,there were hospitality, an altar, and an offering for him. Baal,Moloch, 'the host of heaven,' wizards, enchanters, anybody whopretended to have any sort of black art, all were welcome, and themore the better. No doubt, this eager acceptance of a miscellaneousmultitude of deities was partly reaction from the monotheism of theformer reign, but also it was the natural result of being surroundedby the worshippers of these various gods; and it was an unconsciousconfession of the insufficiency of each and all of them to fill thevoid in the heart, and satisfy the needs of the spirit. There are'gods many, and lords many,' because they are insufficient; 'the Lordour God is one Lord,' because He, in His single Self, is more than allthese, and is enough for any and every man.

We may note, too, that at the beginning of the chapter Manasseh issaid to have done 'like unto the abominations of the heathen,'while in verse 9 he is said to have done 'evil more than didthe nations.' When a worshipper of Jehovah does like theheathen, he does worse than they. An apostate Christian is moreguilty than one who has never 'tasted the good word of God,' and islikely to push his sins to a more flagrant wickedness. 'The corruptionof the best is the worst.' We cannot do what the world does withoutbeing more deeply guilty than they.

The narrative lays stress on the fact that the king's inclination toidolatry was agreeable to the people. The kings, who fought againstit, had to resist the popular current, but at the least encouragementfrom those in high places the nation was ready to slide back. Rulerswho wish to lower the standard of morality or religion have an easytask; but the people who follow their lead are not free from guilt,though they can plead that they only followed. The second count in theindictment is the refusal of king and people to listen to God'sremonstrances. 2 Kings, chap, xxi., gives the prophets' warnings atgreater length. 'They would not hearken'—can anything madder andsadder be said of any of us than that? Is it not the very sin of sins,and the climax of suicidal folly, that God should call and men stoptheir ears? And yet how many of us pay no more regard to His voice, inHis providences, in our own consciences, in history, in Scripture,and, most penetrating and beseeching of all, in Christ, than to idlewind whistling through an archway! Our own evil deeds stop our ears,and the stopped ears make further evil deeds more easy.

The second step in this typical story is merciful chastisem*nt, meantto secure a hearing for God's voice. 2 Kings tells the threat, but notthe fulfilment; Chronicles tells the fulfilment, but not the threat.We note how emphatically God's hand is recognised behind the politicalcomplications which brought the Assyrians to Jerusalem, and howparticularly it is stated that the invasion was not headed byEsarhaddon, but by his generals. The place of Manasseh's captivityalso is specified, not as Nineveh, as might have been expected, but asBabylon. These details, especially the last, look like genuinehistory. It is history which carries a lesson. Here is one conspicuousinstance of the divine method, which is working to-day as it did then.God's hand is behind the secondary causes of events. Our sorrows and'misfortunes' are sent to us by Him, not hurled at us by human handsonly, or occurring by the working of impersonal laws. They are meantto make us bethink ourselves, and drop evil things from our hands andhearts. It is best to be guided by His eye, and not need 'bit andbridle'; but if we make ourselves stubborn as 'the mule, which has nounderstanding,' it is second best that we should taste the whip, thatit may bring us to run in harness on the road which He wills. If wehabitually looked at calamities as His loving chastisem*nt, intendedto draw us to Himself, we should not have to stand perplexed so oftenat what we call the mysteries of His providence.

The next step in the story is the yielding of the sinful heart whensmitten. The worst affliction is an affliction wasted, which does usno good. And God has often to lament, 'In vain have I smitten yourchildren; they received no correction.' Sorrow has in itself no powerto effect the purpose for which it is sent; but all depends on how wetake it. It sometimes makes us hard, bitter, obstinate in clinging toevil. A heart that has been disciplined by it, and still isundisciplined, is like iron hammered on an anvil, and made the moreclose-grained thereby. But this king took his chastisem*nt wisely. Anaccepted sorrow is an angel in disguise, and nothing which drives usto God is a calamity. Manasseh praying was freer in his chains thanever he had been in his prosperity. Manasseh humbling himself greatlybefore God was higher than when, in the pride of his heart, he shutGod out from it.

Affliction should clear our sight, that we may see ourselves as weare; and, if we do, there will be an end of high looks, and we shall'take the lowest room.' Thus humbled, we shall pray as theself-confident and outwardly prosperous cannot do. Sorrow has done itsbest on us when, like some strong hand on our shoulders, it hasbrought us to our knees. No affliction has yielded its full blessingto us unless it has thus set us by Manasseh's side.

The next step in the story is the loving answer to the humbled heart,and the restoration to the kingdom. 'He was entreated of him.' Nodoubt, political circ*mstances brought about Manasseh's reinstatement,as they had brought about his captivity, but it was God that 'broughthim again to his kingdom.' We may not receive again lost good things,but we may be quite sure that God never fails to hear the cry of thehumble, and that, if there is one voice that more surely reaches Hisear and moves His heart than another, it is the voice of His chastenedchildren, who cry to Him out of the depths, and there have learnedtheir own sin and sore need. He will be entreated of them, and,whether He gives back lost good or not, He will give Himself, in whomall good is comprehended. Manasseh's experience may be repeated in us.

And the best part of it was, not that he received back his kingdom,but that 'then Manasseh knew that the Lord He was God.' The name hadbeen but a name to him, but now it had become a reality. Ourtraditional, second-hand belief in God is superficial and largelyunreal till it is deepened and vivified by experience. If we havecried to Him, and been lightened, then we have a ground of convictionthat cannot be shaken. Formerly we could at most say, 'I believe inGod,' or, 'I think there is a God,' but now we can say, 'I know,' andno criticism nor contradiction can shake that. Such knowledge is notthe knowledge won by the understanding alone, but it is acquaintancewith a living Person, like the knowledge which loving souls have ofeach other; and he who has that knowledge as the issue of his ownexperience may smile at doubts and questionings, and say with theApostle of Love, 'We know that we are of God, … and we know that theSon of God is come, and hath given us an understanding, that we mayknow Him that is true.' Then, if we have that knowledge, we shalllisten to the same Apostle's commandment, 'Keep yourselves fromidols,' even as the issue of Manasseh's knowledge of God was that 'hetook away the strange gods, and the idol out of the house of theLord.'

JOSIAH

'Josiah was eight years old when he began to reign, and he reigned inJerusalem one and thirty years. 2. And he did that which was right inthe sight of the Lord, and walked in the ways of David his father, anddeclined neither to the right hand, nor to the left. 3. For in theeighth year of his reign, while he was yet young, he began to seekafter the God of David his father: and in the twelfth year he began topurge Judah and Jerusalem from the high places, and the groves, andthe carved images, and the molten images. 4. And they brake down thealtars of Baalim in his presence; and the images, that were on highabove them, he cut down; and the groves, and the carved images, andthe molten images, he brake in pieces, and made dust of them, andstrowed it upon the graves of them that had sacrificed unto them. 5.And he burnt the bones of the priests upon their altars, and cleansedJudah and Jerusalem. 6. And so did he in the cities of Manasseh, andEphraim, and Simeon, even unto Naphtali, with their mattocks roundabout. 7. And when he had broken down the altars and the groves, andhad beaten the graven images into powder, and cut down all the idolsthroughout all the land of Israel, he returned to Jerusalem. 8. Now inthe eighteenth year of his reign, when he had purged the land, and thehouse, he sent Shaphan the son of Azaliah, and Maaseiah the governorof the city, and Joah the son of Joahaz the recorder, to repair thehouse of the Lord his God. 9. And when they came to Hilkiah the highpriest, they delivered the money that was brought into the house ofGod, which the Levites that kept the doors had gathered of the hand ofManasseh and Ephraim, and of all the remnant of Israel, and of allJudah and Benjamin; and they returned to Jerusalem. 10. And they putit in the hand of the workmen that had the oversight of the house ofthe Lord, and they gave it to the workmen that wrought in the house ofthe Lord, to repair and amend the house: 11. Even to the artificersand builders gave they it, to buy hewn stone, and timber forcouplings, and to floor the houses which the kings of Judah haddestroyed. 12. And the men did the work faithfully: and the overseersof them were Jahath and Obadiah, the Levites, of the sons of Merari;and Zechariah and Meshullam, of the sons of the Kohathites, to set itforward; and other of the Levites, all that could skill of instrumentsof musick. 13. Also they were over the bearers of burdens, and wereoverseers of all that wrought the work in any manner of service: andof the Levites there were scribes, and officers, and porters.'—2CHRON. xxxiv. 1-13.

Another boy king, even younger than his grandfather Manasseh had beenat his accession, and another reversal of the father's religion! Thesevibrations from idolatry to Jehovah-worship, at the pleasure of theking, sadly tell how little the people cared whom they worshipped, andhow purely a matter of ceremonies and names both their idolatry andtheir Jehovah-worship were. The religion of the court was the religionof the nation, only idolatry was more congenial than the service ofGod. How far the child monarch Josiah had a deeper sense of what thatservice meant we cannot decide, but the little outline sketch of himin verses 2 and 3 is at least suggestive of his having it, and maywell stand as a fair portrait of early godliness.

A child eight years old, who had been lifted on to the throne of amurdered father, must have had a strong will and a love of goodness tohave resisted the corrupting influences of royalty in a land full ofidols. Here again we see that, great as may be the power ofcirc*mstances, they do not determine character; for it is always opento us either to determine whether we yield to them or resist them. Theprevailing idolatry influenced the boy, but it influenced him to hateit with all his heart. So out of the nettle danger we may pluck theflower safety. The men who have smitten down some evil institutionhave generally been brought up so as to feel its full force.

'He did that which was right in the eyes of Jehovah'—that may meansimply that he worshipped Jehovah by outward ceremonies, but itprobably means more; namely, that his life was pure and God-pleasing,or, as we should say, clean and moral, free from the foul vices whichsolicit a young prince. 'He walked in the ways of David hisfather'—not being one of the 'emancipated' youths who think it manlyto throw off the restraints of their fathers' faith and morals. He'turned not aside to the right hand or to the left'—but marched rightonwards on the road that conscience traced out for him, thoughtempting voices called to him from many a side-alley that seemed tolead to pleasant places. 'While he was yet young, he began to seekafter the God of David his father'—at the critical age of sixteen,when Easterns are older than we, in the flush of early manhood, heawoke to deeper experiences and felt the need for a closer touch ofGod. A career thus begun will generally prelude a life pure,strenuous, and blessed with a clearer and clearer vision of the Godwho is always found of them that seek Him. Such a childhood,blossoming into such a boyhood, and flowering in such a manhood, ispossible to every child among us. It will 'still bring forth fruit inold age.'

The two incidents which the passage narrates, the purging of the landand the repair of the Temple, are told in inverted order in 2 Kings,but the order here is probably the more accurate, as dates are given,whereas in 2 Kings, though the purging is related after the Templerestoration, it is not said to have occurred after. But the order isof small consequence. What is important is the fiery energy of Josiahin the work of destruction of the idols. Here, there, everywhere, heflames and consumes. He darts a flash even into the desolate ruins ofthe Israelitish kingdom, where the idols had survived their devoteesand still bewitched the scanty fragments of Israel that remained. Thealtars of stone were thrown down, the wooden sun-pillars were cut topieces, the metal images were broken and ground to powder. A cleansweep was made.

A dash of ferocity mingled with contempt appears in Josiah'sscattering the 'dust' of the images on the graves of theirworshippers, as if he said: 'There you lie together, pounded idols anddead worshippers, neither able to help the other!' The same feelingsprompted digging up the skeletons of priests and burning the bones onthe very altars that they had served, thus defiling the altars andexecuting judgment on the priests. No doubt there were much violenceand a strong strain of the 'wrath of man' in all this. Iconoclasts arewont to be 'violent'; and men without convictions, or who arepartisans of what the iconoclasts are rooting out, are horrified attheir want of 'moderation.' But though violence is always unchristian,indifference to rampant evils is not conspicuously more Christian,and, on the whole, you cannot throttle snakes in a graceful attitudeor without using some force to compress the sinuous neck.

The restoration of the Temple comes after the cleansing of the land,in Chronicles, and naturally in the order of events, for the castingout of idols must always precede the building or repairing of theTemple of God. Destructive work is very poor unless it is for thepurpose of clearing a space to build the Temple on. Happy the man orthe age which is able to do both! Josiah and Joash worked at restoringthe Temple in much the same fashion, but Josiah had a priesthood moreinterested than Joash had.

But we may note one or two points in his restoration. He had put hispersonal effort into the preparatory extirpation of idols, but he didnot need to do so now. He could work this time by deputy. And it isnoteworthy that he chose 'laymen' to carry out the restoration.Perhaps he knew how Joash had been balked by the knavery of thepriests who were diligent in collecting money, but slow in spending iton the Temple. At all events, he delegated the work to threehighly-placed officials, the secretary of state, the governor ofJerusalem, and the official historian.

It appears that for some time a collection had been going on forTemple repairs; probably it had been begun six years before, when the'purging' of the land began. It had been carried on by the Levites,and had been contributed to even by 'the remnant of Israel' in thenorthern kingdom, who, in their forlorn weakness, had begun to feelthe drawings of ancient brotherhood and the tie of a common worship.This fund was in the keeping of the high priest, and the threecommissioners were instructed to require it from him. Here 2 Kings isclearer than our passage, and shows that what the three officials hadmainly to do was to get the money from Hilkiah, and to hand it over tothe superintendents of the works.

There are two remarkable points in the narrative; one is theobservation that 'the men did the work faithfully,' which comes inrather enigmatically here, but in 2 Kings is given as the reason whyno accounts were kept. Not an example to be imitated, and the sure wayto lead subordinates sooner or later to deal unfaithfully; but apleasant indication of the spirit animating all concerned.

Surely these men worked 'as ever in the great Taskmaster's eye.' Thatis what makes us work faithfully, whether we have any earthly overseeror audit or no. Another noteworthy matter is that not only were thesuperintendents of the work—the 'contractors,' as we mightsay—Levites, but so were also the inferior superintendents, or, as wemight say, 'foremen.'

And not only so, but they were those that 'were skilful withinstruments of music.' What were musicians doing there? Did thebuilding rise

'with the sound Of dulcet symphonies and voices sweet?'

May we not gather from this singular notice the great thought that forall rearing of the true Temple, harps of praise are no less necessarythan swords or trowels, and that we shall do no right work for God orman unless we do it as with melody in our hearts? Our lives must befull of music if we are to lay even one stone in the Temple.

JOSIAH AND THE NEWLY FOUND LAW

'And when they brought out the money that was brought into the houseof the Lord, Hilkiah the priest found a book of the law of the Lordgiven by Moses. 15. And Hilkiah answered and said to Shaphan thescribe, I have found the book of the law in the house of the Lord. AndHilkiah delivered the book to Shaphan. 16 And Shaphan carried the bookto the king, and brought the king word back again, saying, All thatwas committed to thy servants, they do it. 17. And they have gatheredtogether the money that was found in the house of the Lord, and havedelivered it into the hand of the overseers, and to the hand of theworkmen. 18. Then Shaphan the scribe told the king, saying, Hilkiahthe priest hath given me a book. And Shaphan read it before the king.19. And it came to pass, when the king had heard the words of the law,that he rent his clothes. 20. And the king commanded Hilkiah, andAhikam the son of Shaphan, and Abdon the son of Micah, and Shaphan thescribe, and Asaiah a servant of the king's, saying, 21. Go, enquire ofthe Lord for me, and for them that are left in Israel and in Judah,concerning the words of the book that is found: for great is the wrathof the Lord that is poured out upon us, because our fathers have notkept the word of the Lord, to do after all that is written in thisbook. 22. And Hilkiah, and they that the king had appointed, went toHuldah the prophetess, the wife of Shallum the son of Tikvath, the sonof Hasrah, keeper of the wardrobe; (now she dwelt in Jerusalem in thecollege;) and they spake to her to that effect. 23. And she answeredthem, Thus saith the Lord God of Israel, Tell ye the man that sent youto me. 24. Thus saith the Lord, Behold, I will bring evil upon thisplace, and upon the inhabitants thereof, even all the curses that arewritten in the book which they have read before the king of Judah: 25.Because they have forsaken Me, and have burned incense unto othergods, that they might provoke Me to anger with all the works of theirhands; therefore My wrath shall be poured out upon this place, andshall not be quenched. 26. And as for the king of Judah, who sent youto enquire of the Lord, so shall ye say unto him, Thus saith the LordGod of Israel concerning the words which thou hast heard; 27. Becausethine heart was tender, and thou didst humble thyself before God, whenthou heardest His words against this place, and against theinhabitants thereof, and humbledst thyself before Me, and did rendstthy clothes, and weep before Me; I have even heard thee also, saiththe Lord. 28. Behold, I will gather thee to thy fathers, and thoushalt be gathered to thy grave in peace, neither shall thine eyes seeall the evil that I will bring upon this place, and upon theinhabitants of the same. So they brought the king word again.'—2CHRON. xxxiv. 14-28.

About one hundred years separated Hezekiah's restoration fromJosiah's. Neither was more than a momentary arrest of the strong tiderunning in the opposite direction; and Josiah's was too near the edgeof the cataract to last, or to avert the plunge. There is nothing moretragical than the working of the law which often sets the children'steeth on edge by reason of the fathers' eating of sour grapes.

I. The first point in this passage is the discovery of the book of the
Law.

The book had been lost before it was found. For how long we do notknow, but the fact that it had been so carelessly kept is eloquent ofthe indifference of priests and kings, its appointed guardians.Lawbreakers have a direct interest in getting rid of lawbooks, just asshopkeepers who use short yardsticks and light weights are not anxiousthe standards should be easily accessible. If we do not make God's lawour guide, we shall wish to put it out of sight, that it may not beour accuser. What more sad or certain sign of evil can there be thanthat we had rather not 'hear what God the Lord will speak'?

The straightforward story of our passage gives a most naturalexplanation of the find. Hilkiah was likely to have had dark cornerscleared out in preparation for repairs and in storing thesubscriptions, and many a mislaid thing would turn up. If it bepossible that the book of the Law should have been neglected (and thereligious corruption of the last hundred years makes that only toocertain), its discovery in some dusty recess is very intelligible, andwould not have been doubted but for the exigencies of a theory.'Reading between the lines' is fascinating, but risky; for the readeris very likely unconsciously to do what Hilkiah is said to havedone—namely, to invent what he thinks he finds.

Accepting the narrative as it stands, we may see in it a strikinginstance of the indestructibleness of God's Word. His law isimperishable, and its written embodiment seems as if it, too, had acharmed life. When we consider the perils attending the transmissionof ancient manuscripts, the necessary scarcity of copies before theinvention of printing, the scattering of the Jewish people, it doesappear as if a divine hand had guarded the venerable book. How camethis strange people, who never kept their Law, to swim through alltheir troubles, like Caesar with his commentaries between his teeth,bearing aloft and dry, the Word which they obeyed so badly? 'Write it… in a book, that it may be for the time to come for ever and ever.'The permanence of the written Word, the providence that has watchedover it, the romantic history of its preservation through ages ofneglect, and the imperishable gift to the world of an objectivestandard of duty, remaining the same from age to age, are allsuggested by this reappearance of the forgotten Law.

It may suggest, too, that honest efforts after reformation are usuallyrewarded by clearer knowledge of God's will. If Hilkiah had not beenbusy in setting wrong things right, he would not have found the bookin its dark hiding-place. We are told that the coincidence of thediscovery at the nick of time is suspicious. So it is, if you do notbelieve in Providence. If you do, the coincidence is but one instanceof His sending gifts of the right sort at the right moment. It is notthe first time nor the last that the attempt to keep God's law has ledto larger knowledge of the law. It is not the first time nor the lastthat God has sent to His faithful servants an opportune gift. What theworld calls accidental coincidence deeper wisdom discerns to be thetouch of God's hand.

Again, the discovery reminds us that the true basis of all religiousreform is the Word of God. Josiah had begun to restore the Temple, buthe did not know till he heard the Law read how great the task waswhich he had taken in hand. That recovered book gave impulse anddirection to his efforts. The nearest parallel is the rediscovery ofthe Bible in the sixteenth century, or, if we may take one incident asa symbol of the whole, Luther's finding the dusty Latin Bible amongthe neglected convent books. The only reformation for an effete orsecularised church is in its return to the Bible. Faded flowers willlift up their heads when plunged in water. The old Bible, discoveredand applied anew, must underlie all real renovation of dead ormoribund Christianity.

II. The next point here is the effect of the rediscovered Law. Shaphanwas closely connected with Josiah, as his office made him a confidant.It is ordinarily taken for granted that he and the other persons namedin this lesson formed a little knot of earnest Jehovah worshippers,fully sympathising with the Reformation, and that among them lay theauthorship of the book. But we know nothing about them except what istold here and in the parallel in Kings. One of them, Ahikam, was afriend and protector of Jeremiah, and Shaphan the scribe was thefather of another of Jeremiah's friends. They may all have been inaccord with the king, or they may not.

At all events, Shaphan took the book to Josiah. We can picture thescene—the deepening awe of both men as the whole extent of thenation's departure from God became clearer and clearer, the tremuloustones of the reader, and the silent, fixed attention of the listeneras the solemn threatenings came from Shaphan's reluctant, pallid lips.There was enough in them to touch a harder heart than Josiah's. Wecannot suppose that, knowing the history of the past, and beingsufficiently enlightened to 'seek after the God of David his father,'he did not know in a general way that sin meant sorrow, and nationaldisobedience national death. But we all have the faculty of bluntingthe cutting edge of truth, especially if it has been familiar, so thatsome novelty in the manner of its presentation, or even its repetitionwithout novelty sometimes, may turn commonplace and impotent truthinto a mighty instrument to shake and melt.

So it seems to have been with Josiah. Whether new or old, the Wordfound him as it had never done before. The venerable copy from whichShaphan read, the coincidence of its discovery just then, thedishonour done to it for so long, may all have helped the impression.However it arose, it was made. If a man will give God's Word a fairhearing, and be honest with himself, it will bring him to his knees.No man rightly uses God's law who is not convinced by it of his sin,and impelled to that self-abased sorrow of which the rent royal robeswere the passionate expression. Josiah was wise when he did not turnhis thoughts to other people's sins, but began with his own, evenwhilst he included others. The first function of the law is to arousethe knowledge of sin, as Paul profoundly teaches. Without thatpenitent knowledge religion is superficial, and reformation merelyexternal. Unless we 'abhor ourselves, and repent in dust and ashes,'Scripture has not done its work on us, and all our reading of it is invain. Nor is there any good reason why familiarity with it shouldweaken its power. But, alas! it too often does. How many of us wouldstand in awe of God's judgments if we heard them for the first time,but listen to them unmoved, as to thunder without lightning, merelybecause wo know them so well! That is a reason for attending to them,not for neglecting.

Josiah's sense of sin led him to long for a further word from God; andso he called these attendants named in verse 20, and sent them to'enquire of the Lord … concerning the words of the book.' What moredid he wish to know? The words were plain enough, and theirapplication to Israel and him indubitable. Clearly, he could only wishto know whether there was any possibility of averting the judgments,and, if so, what was the means. The awakened conscience instinctivelyfeels that threatenings cannot be God's last words to it, but musthave been given that they might not need to be fulfilled. We do notrightly sorrow for sin unless it quickens in us a desire for a wordfrom God to tell us how to escape. The Law prepares for the Gospel,and is incomplete without it. 'The soul that sinneth, it shall die,'cannot be all which a God of pity and love has to say. A faint promiseof life lies in the very fact of threatening death, faint indeed, butsufficient to awaken earnest desire for yet another word from theLord. We rightly use the solemn revelations of God's law when we aredriven by them to cry, 'What must I do to be saved?'

III. So we come to the last point, the double-edged message of theprophetess. Josiah does not seem to have told his messengers where togo; but they knew, and went straight to a very unlikely person, thewife of an obscure man, only known as his father's son. Where wasJeremiah of Anathoth? Perhaps not in the city at the time. There hadbeen prophetesses in Israel before. Miriam, Deborah, the wife ofIsaiah, are instances of 'your daughters' prophesying; and thisembassy to Huldah is in full accord with the high position which womenheld in that state, of which the framework was shaped by God Himself.In Christ Jesus 'there is neither male nor female,' and Judaismapproximated much more closely to that ideal than other lands did.

Huldah's message has two parts: one the confirmation of thethreatenings of the Law; one the assurance to Josiah of acceptance ofhis repentance and gracious promise of escape from the coming storm.These two are precisely equivalent to the double aspect of the Gospel,which completes the Law, endorsing its sentence and pointing the wayof escape.

Note that the former part addresses Josiah as 'the man that sent you,'but the latter names him. The embassy had probably not disclosed hisname, and Huldah at first keeps up the veil, since the personality ofthe sender had nothing to do with her answer; but when she comes tospeak of pardon and God's favour, there must be no vagueness in thedestination of the message, and the penitent heart must be tenderlybound up by a word from God straight to itself. The threatenings aregeneral, but each single soul that is sorry for sin may take as itsvery own the promise of forgiveness. God's great 'Whosoever' is for meas certainly as if my name stood on the page.

The terrible message of the inevitableness of the destruction hangingover Jerusalem is precisely parallel with the burden of all Jeremiah'steaching. It was too late to avert the fall. The external judgmentsmust come now, for the emphasis of the prophecy is in its last words,it 'shall not be quenched.' But that did not mean that repentance wastoo late to alter the whole character of the punishment, which wouldbe fatherly chastisem*nt if meekly accepted. So, too, Jeremiah taught,when he exhorted submission to the 'Chaldees.' It is never too late toseek mercy, though it may be too late to hope for averting the outwardconsequences of sin.

As for Josiah, his penitence was accepted, and he was assured that hewould be gathered to his fathers. That expression, as is clear fromthe places where it occurs, is not a synonym for either death orburial, from both of which it is distinguished, but is a dim promiseof being united, beyond the grave, with the fathers, who, in some onecondition, which we may call a place, are gathered into a restfulcompany, and wander no more as pilgrims and sojourners in this lonelyand changeful life.

Josiah died in battle. Was that going to his grave in peace? Surelyyes! if, dying, he felt God's presence, and in the darkness saw agreat light. He who thus dies, though it be in the thick of battle,and with his heart's blood pouring from an arrow-wound down on thefloor of the chariot, dies in peace, and into peace.

THE FALL OF JUDAH

'Zedekiah was one and twenty years old when he began to reign, andreigned eleven years in Jerusalem. 12. And he did that which was evilin the sight of the Lord his God, and humbled not himself beforeJeremiah the prophet speaking from the mouth of the Lord. 13. And healso rebelled against king Nebuchadnezzar, who had made him swear byGod: but he stiffened his neck, and hardened his heart from turningunto the Lord God of Israel. 14. Moreover all the chief of thepriests, and the people, transgressed very much after all theabominations of the heathen; and polluted the house of the Lord whichhe had hallowed in Jerusalem. 15. And the Lord God of their fatherssent to them by His messengers, rising up betimes, and sending;because He had compassion on His people, and on His dwelling-place:16. But they mocked the messengers of God, and despised His words, andmisused His prophets, until the wrath of the Lord arose against Hispeople, till there was no remedy. 17. Therefore he brought upon themthe king of the Chaldees, who slew their young men with the sword inthe house of their sanctuary, and had no compassion upon young man ormaiden, old man, or him that stooped for age: he gave them all intohis hand. 18. And all the vessels of the house of God, great andsmall, and the treasures of the house of the Lord, and the treasuresof the king, and of his princes; all these he brought to Babylon. 19.And they burnt the house of God, and brake down the wall of Jerusalem,and burnt all the palaces thereof with fire, and destroyed all thegoodly vessels thereof. 20. And them that had escaped from the swordcarried he away to Babylon; where they were servants to him and hissons until the reign of the kingdom of Persia: 21. To fulfil the wordof the Lord by the mouth of Jeremiah, until the land had enjoyed hersabbaths; for as long as she lay desolate she kept sabbath, to fulfilthreescore and ten years.'—2 CHRON. xxxvi 11-21.

Bigness is not greatness, nor littleness smallness. Nebuchadnezzar'sconquest of Judah was, in his eyes, one of the least important of hismany victories, but it is the only one of them which survives in theworld's memory and keeps his name as a household word. The Jews were amere handful, and their country a narrow strip of land between thedesert and the sea; but little Judaea, like little Greece, has taughtthe world. The tragedy of its fall has importance quitedisproportioned to its apparent magnitude. Our passage brings togetherJudah's sin and Judah's punishment, and we shall best gather thelessons of its fall by following the order of the text.

Consider the sin. There is nothing more remarkable than the tone inwhich the chronicler, like all the Old Testament writers, deals withthe national sin. Patriotic historians make it a point of pride andduty to gloss over their country's faults, but these singularnarrators paint them as strongly as they can. Their love of theircountry impels them to 'make known to Israel its transgression and toJudah its sin.' There are tears in their eyes, as who can doubt? Butthere is no faltering in their voices as they speak. A higher feelingthan misguided 'patriotism' moves them. Loyalty to Israel's God forcesthem to deal honestly with Israel's sin. That is the highest kind oflove of country, and might well be commended to loudmouthed 'patriots'in modern lands.

Look at the piled-up clauses of the long indictment of Judah in verses12 to 16. Slow, passionless, unsparing, the catalogue enumerates thewhole black list. It is like the long-drawn blast of the angel ofjudgment's trumpet. Any trace of heated emotion would have weakenedthe impression. The nation's sin was so crimson as to need noheightening of colour. With like judicial calmness, with likecompleteness, omitting nothing, does 'the book,' which will one day beopened, set down every man's deeds, and he will be 'judged accordingto the things that are written in this book.' Some of us will find ourpage sad reading.

But the points brought out in this indictment are instructive. Judah'sidolatry and 'trespass after all the abominations of the heathen' is,of course, prominent, but the spirit which led to their idolatry,rather than the idolatry itself, is dwelt on. Zedekiah's doing 'evilin the sight of the Lord' is regarded as aggravated by his nothumbling himself before Jeremiah, and the head and front of hisoffending is that 'he stiffened his neck and hardened his heart fromturning unto the Lord.' Similarly, the people's sin reaches its climaxin their 'mocking' and 'scoffing' at the prophets and 'despising'God's words by them. So then, an evil life has its roots in analienated heart, and the source of all sin is an obstinate self-will.That is the sulphur-spring from which nothing but unwholesome streamscan flow, and the greatest of all sins is refusing to hear God's voicewhen He speaks to us.

Further, this indictment brings out the patient love of God seeking,in spite of all their deafness, to find a way to the sinners' ears andhearts. In a bold transference to Him of men's ways, He is said tohave 'risen early' to send the prophets. Surely that means earnesteffort. The depths of God's heart are disclosed when we are bidden tothink of His compassion as the motive for the prophet's messages andthreatenings. What a wonderful and heart-melting revelation of God'splacableness, wistful hoping against hope, and reluctance to abandonthe most indurated sinner, is given in that centuries-long conflict ofthe patient God with treacherous Israel! That divine charity sufferedlong and was kind, endured all things and hoped all things.

Consider the punishment. The tragic details of the punishment areenumerated with the same completeness and suppression of emotion asthose of the sin. The fact that all these were divine judgments bringsthe chronicler to the Psalmist's attitude. 'I was dumb, I opened notmy mouth because Thou didst it.' Sorrow and pity have their place, butthe awed recognition of God's hand outstretched in righteousretribution must come first. Modern sentimentalists, who are sotenderhearted as to be shocked at the Christian teachings of judgment,might learn a lesson here.

The first point to note is that a time arrives when even God can hopefor no amendment and is driven to change His methods. His patience isnot exhausted, but man's obstinacy makes another treatment inevitable.God lavished benefits and pleadings for long years in vain, till Hesaw that there was 'no remedy.' Only then did He, as if reluctantlyforced, do 'His work, His strange work.' Behold, therefore, the'goodness and severity' of God, goodness in His long delay, severityin the final blow, and learn that His purpose is the same though Hismethods are opposite.

To the chronicler God is the true Actor in human affairs.Nebuchadnezzar thought of his conquest as won by his own arm. Secularhistorians treat the fall of Zedekiah as simply the result of thepolitical conditions of the time, and sometimes seem to think that itcould not be a divine judgment because it was brought about by naturalcauses. But this old chronicler sees deeper, and to him, as to us, ifwe are wise, 'the history of the world is the judgment of the world.'The Nebuchadnezzars are God's axes with which He hews down fruitlesstrees. They are responsible for their acts, but they are Hisinstruments, and it is His hand that wields them.

The iron band that binds sin and suffering is disclosed in Judah'sfall. We cannot allege that the same close connection betweengodlessness and national disaster is exemplified now as it was inIsrael. Nor can we contend that for individuals suffering is alwaysthe fruit of sin. But it is still true that 'righteousness exalteth anation,' and that 'by the soul only are the nations great,' in thetrue sense of the word. To depart from God is always 'a bitter and anevil thing' for communities and individuals, however sweet draughts ofoutward prosperity may for a time mask the bitterness. Not armies norfleets, not ships, colonies and commerce, not millionaires and trusts,not politicians and diplomatists, but the fear of the Lord and thekeeping of His commandments, are the true life of a nation. IfChristian men lived up to the ideal set them by Jesus, 'Ye are thesalt of the land,' and sought more earnestly and wisely to leaventheir nation, they would be doing more than any others to guaranteeits perpetual prosperity.

The closing words of this chapter, not included in the passage, aresignificant. They are the first words of the Book of Ezra. Whoever putthem here perhaps wished to show a far-off dawn following the stormysunset. He opens a 'door of hope' in 'the valley of trouble.' It is anOld Testament version of 'God hath not cast away His people whom Heforeknew.' It throws a beam of light on the black last page of thechronicle, and reveals that God's chastisem*nt was in love, that itwas meant for discipline, not for destruction, that it waseducational, and that the rod was burned when the lesson had beenlearned. It was learned, for the Captivity cured the nation ofhankering after idolatry, and whatever defects it brought back fromBabylon, it brought back a passionate abhorrence of all the gods ofthe nations.

EZRA

THE EVE OF THE RESTORATION

'Now in the first year of Cyrus king of Persia, that the word of theLord by the mouth of Jeremiah might be fulfilled, the Lord stirred upthe spirit of Cyrus king of Persia, that he made a proclamationthroughout all his kingdom, and put it also in writing, saying, 2.Thus saith Cyrus king of Persia, The Lord God of heaven hath given meall the kingdoms of the earth; and He hath charged me to build Him ahouse at Jerusalem, which is in Judah. 3. Who is there among you ofall His people? his God be with him, and let him go up to Jerusalem,which is in Judah, and build the house of the Lord God of Israel (Heis the God), which is in Jerusalem. 4. And whosoever remaineth in anyplace where he sojourneth, let the men of his place help him withsilver, and with gold, and with goods, and with beasts, besides thefreewill offering for the house of God that is in Jerusalem. 5. Thenrose up the chief of the fathers of Judah and Benjamin, and thepriests, and the Levites, with all them whose spirit God had raised,to go up to build the house of the Lord which is in Jerusalem. 6. Andall they that were about them strengthened their hands with vessels ofsilver, with gold, with goods, and with beasts, and with preciousthings, besides all that was willingly offered. 7. Also Cyrus the kingbrought forth the vessels of the house of the Lord, whichNebuchadnezzar had brought forth out of Jerusalem, and had put them inthe house of his gods; 8. Even those did Cyrus king of Persia bringforth by the hand of Mithredath the treasurer, and numbered them untoSheshbazzar, the prince of Judah. 9. And this is the number of them:thirty chargers of gold, a thousand chargers of silver, nine andtwenty knives, 10. Thirty basons of gold, silver basons of a secondsort four hundred and ten, and other vessels a thousand. 11. All thevessels of gold and of silver were five thousand and four hundred. Allthese did Sheshbazzar bring up with them of the captivity that werebrought up from Babylon unto Jerusalem.'—EZRA i. 1-11.

Cyrus captured Babylon 538 B.C., and the 'first year' here is thefirst after that event. The predicted seventy years' captivity hadnearly run out, having in part done their work on the exiles. Coloursburned in on china are permanent; and the furnace of bondage had, atleast, effected this, that it fixed monotheism for ever in the inmostsubstance of the Jewish people. But the bulk of them seem to have hadlittle of either religious or patriotic enthusiasm, and preferredBabylonia to Judea. We are here told of the beginning of the return ofa portion of the exiles—forty-two thousand, in round numbers.

'The Lord stirred up the spirit of Cyrus.' That unveils the deepestcause of what fell into place, to the superficial observers, as oneamong many political events of similar complexion. We find among theinscriptions a cylinder written by order of Cyrus, which shows that hereversed the Babylonian policy of deporting conquered nations. 'Alltheir peoples,' says he, in reference to a number of nations of whomhe found members in exile in Babylonia, 'I assembled and restored totheir lands and the gods … whom Nabonidos … had brought intoBabylon, I settled in peace in their sanctuaries' (Sayce, FreshLight from the Ancient Monuments, p. 148). It was, then, part of awider movement, which sent back Zerubbabel and his people toJerusalem, and began the rebuilding of the Temple. No doubt, Cyrus hadseen that the old plan simply brought an element of possible rebellioninto the midst of the country, and acted on grounds of politicalprudence.

But our passage digs deeper to find the true cause. Cyrus was God'sinstrument, and the statesman's insight was the result of God'sillumination. The divine causality moves men, when they movethemselves. It was not only in the history of the chosen people thatGod's purpose is wrought out by more or less conscious and willinginstruments. The principle laid down by the writer of this book is ofuniversal application, and the true 'philosophy of history' mustrecognise as underlying all other so-called causes and forces the oneuncaused Cause, of whose purposes kings and politicians are theexecutants, even while they freely act according to their ownjudgments, and, it may be, in utter unconsciousness of Him. Itconcerns our tranquillity and hopefulness, in the contemplation of thebewildering maze and often heart-breaking tragedy of mundane affairs,to hold fast by the conviction that God's unseen Hand moves the pieceson the board, and presides over all the complications. The differencebetween 'sacred' and 'profane' history is not that one is under Hisdirect control, and the other is not. What was true of Cyrus and hispolicy is as true of England. Would that politicians and all menrecognised the fact as clearly as this historian did!

I. Cyrus's proclamation sounds as if he were a Jehovah-worshipper, butit is to be feared that his religion was of a very accommodating kind.It used to be said that, as a Persian, he was a monotheist, and wouldconsequently be in sympathy with the Jews; but the same cylinderalready quoted shatters that idea, and shows him to have been apolytheist, ready to worship the gods of Babylon. He there ascribeshis conquest to 'Merodach, the great lord,' and distinctly callshimself that god's 'worshipper.' Like other polytheists, he had roomin his pantheon for the gods of other nations, and admitted into itthe deities of the conquered peoples.

The use of the name 'Jehovah' would, no doubt, be most simplyaccounted for by the supposition that Cyrus recognised the soledivinity of the God of Israel; but that solution conflicts with allthat is known of him, and with his characterisation in Isaiah xlv. as'not knowing' Jehovah. More probably, his confession of Jehovah as theGod of heaven was consistent in his mind with a similar confession asto Bel-Merodach or the supreme god of any other of the conquerednations. There is, however no improbability in the supposition thatthe prophecies concerning him in Isaiah xlv, may have been brought tohis knowledge, and be referred to in the proclamation as the 'charge'given to him to build Jehovah's Temple. But we must not exaggerate thedepth or exclusiveness of his belief in the God of the Jews.

Cyrus's profession of faith, then, is an example of official andskin-deep religion, of which public and individual life affordplentiful instances in all ages and faiths. If we are to take theirown word for it, most great conquerors have been very religious men,and have asked a blessing over many a bloody feast. All religions areequally true to cynical politicians, who are ready to join inworshipping 'Jehovah, Jove, or Lord,' as may suit their policy. Nor isit only in high places that such loosely worn professions are found.Perhaps there is no region of life in which insincerity, which isoften quite unconscious, is so rife as in regard to religious belief.But unless my religion is everything, it is nothing. 'All in all, ornot at all,' is the requirement of the great Lover of souls. What awinnowing of chaff from wheat there would be, if that test couldvisibly separate the mass which is gathered on His threshing-floor,the Church!

Cyrus's belief in Jehovah illustrates the attitude which was naturalto a polytheist, and is so difficult for us to enter into. A vaguebelief in One Supreme, above all other gods, and variously named bydifferent nations, is buried beneath mountains of myths about lessergods, but sometimes comes to light in many pagan minds. This blindcreed, if creed it can be called, is joined with the recognition ofdeities belonging to each nation, whose worship is to be co-extensivewith the race of which they are patrons, and who may be absorbed intothe pantheon of a conqueror, just as a vanquished king may be allowedan honourable captivity at the victor's capital. Thus Cyrus could in asense worship Jehovah, the God of Israel, without thereby beingrebellious to Merodach.

There are people, even among so-called Christians, who try the sameimmoral and impossible division of what must in its very nature bewholly given to One Supreme. To 'serve God and mammon' is demonstrablyan absurd attempt. The love and trust and obedience which are worthyof Him must be wholehearted, whole-souled, whole-willed. It is asimpossible to love God with part of one's self as it is for a husbandto love his wife with half his heart, and another woman with the rest.To divide love is to slay it. Cyrus had some kind of belief inJehovah; but his own words, so wonderfully recovered in theinscription already referred to, proved that he had not listened tothe command, 'Him only shalt thou serve.' That command grips us asclosely as it did the Jews, and is as truly broken by thousandscalling themselves Christians as by any idolaters.

The substance of the proclamation is a permission to return to any onewho wished to do so, a sanction of the rebuilding of the Temple, andan order to the native inhabitants to render help in money, goods, andbeasts. A further contribution towards the building was suggested as'a free-will offering.' The return, then, was not to be at the expenseof the king, nor was any tax laid on for it; but neighbourly goodwill,born of seventy years of association, was invoked, and, as we find,not in vain. God had given the people favour in the eyes of those whohad carried them captive.

II. The long years of residence in Babylonia had weakened thehomesickness which the first generation of captives had, no doubt,painfully experienced, and but a small part of them cared to availthemselves of the opportunity of return. One reason is frankly givenby Josephus: 'Many remained in Babylon, not wishing to leave theirpossessions behind them.' 'The heads of the fathers' houses [who mayhave exercised some sort of government among the captives], thepriests and Levites,' made the bulk of the emigrants; but in eachclass it was only those 'whose spirit God had stirred up' (as he haddone Cyrus') that were devout or patriotic enough to face the wrenchof removal and the difficulties of repeopling a wasted land. There wasnothing to tempt any others, and the brave little band had need of alltheir fortitude. But no heart in which the flame of devotion burned,or in which were felt the drawings of that passionate love of the cityand soil where God dwelt (which in the best days of the nation wasinseparable from devotion), could remain behind. The departingcontingent, then, were the best part of the whole; and the lingererswere held back by love of ease, faint-heartedness, love of wealth, andthe like ignoble motives.

How many of us have had great opportunities offered for service, whichwe have let slip in like manner! To have doors opened which we are toolazy, too cowardly, too much afraid of self-denial, to enter, is thetragedy and the crime of many a life. It is easier to live among thelow levels of the plain of Babylon, than to take to the dangers andprivations of the weary tramp across the desert. The ruins ofJerusalem are a much less comfortable abode than the well-furnishedhouses which have to be left. Prudence says, 'Be content where youare, and let other people take the trouble of such mad schemes asrebuilding the Temple.' A thousand excuses sing in our ears, and welet the moment in which alone some noble resolve is possible slidepast us, and the rest of life is empty of another such. Neglectedopportunities, unobeyed calls to high deeds, we all have in our lives.The saddest of all words is, 'It might have been.' How much wiser,happier, nobler, were the daring souls that rose to the occasion, andflung ease and wealth and companionship behind them, because theyheard the divine command couched in the royal permission, and humblyanswered, 'Here am I; send me'!

III. The third point in the passage is singular—the inventory of theTemple vessels returned by Cyrus. As to its particulars, we need onlynote that Sheshbazzar is the same as Zerubbabel; that the exacttranslation of some of the names of the vessels is doubtful; and thatthe numbers given under each head do not correspond with the sumtotal, the discrepancy indicating error somewhere in the numbers.

But is not this dry enumeration a strange item to come in theforefront of the narrative of such an event? We might have expectedsome kind of production of the enthusiasm of the returning exiles,some account of how they were sent on their journey, something whichwe should have felt worthier of the occasion than a list of bowls andnine-and-twenty knives. But it is of a piece with the whole of thefirst part of this Book of Ezra, which is mostly taken up with asimilar catalogue of the members of the expedition. The list hereindicates the pride and joy with which the long hidden and oftendesecrated vessels were received. We can see the priests and Levitesgazing at them as they were brought forth, their hearts, and perhapstheir eyes, filling with sacred memories. The Lord had 'turned againthe captivity of Zion,' and these sacred vessels lay there, glitteringbefore them, to assure them that they were not as 'them that dream.'Small things become great when they are the witnesses of a greatthing.

We must remember, too, how strong a hold the externals of worship hadon the devout Jew. His faith was much more tied to form than oursought to be, and the restoration of the sacrificial implements as apledge of the re-establishment of the Temple worship would seem thebeginning of a new epoch of closer relation to Jehovah. It is almostwithin the lifetime of living men that all Scotland was thrilled withemotion by the discovery, in a neglected chamber, of a chest in whichlay, forgotten, the crown and sceptre of the Stuarts. A like wave offeeling passed over the exiles as they had given back to their custodythese Temple vessels. Sacreder ones are given into our hands, to carryacross a more dangerous desert. Let us hear the charge, 'Be ye clean,that bear the vessels of the Lord,' and see that we carry them,untarnished and unlost, to 'the house of the Lord which is inJerusalem.'

ALTAR AND TEMPLE

'And when the seventh month was come, and the children of Israel werein the cities, the people gathered themselves together as one man toJerusalem. 2. Then stood up Jeshua the son of Jozadak, and hisbrethren the priests, and Zerubbabel the son of Shealtiel, and hisbrethren, and builded the altar of the God of Israel, to offer burntofferings thereon, as it is written in the law of Moses the man ofGod. 3. And they set the altar upon his bases; for fear was upon thembecause of the people of those countries; and they offered burntofferings thereon unto the Lord, even burnt offerings morning andevening. 4. They kept also the feast of tabernacles, as it is written,and offered the daily burnt offerings by number, according to thecustom, as the duty of every day required; 5. And afterward offeredthe continual burnt offering, both of the new moons, and of all theset feasts of the Lord that were consecrated, and of every one thatwillingly offered a freewill offering unto the Lord. 6. From the firstday of the seventh month began they to offer burnt offerings unto theLord. But the foundation of the Temple of the Lord was not yet laid.7. They gave money also unto the masons, and to the carpenters; andmeat, and drink, and oil, unto them of Zidon, and to them of Tyre, tobring cedar trees from Lebanon to the sea of Joppa, according to thegrant that they had of Cyrus king of Persia. 8. Now in the second yearof their coming unto the house of God at Jerusalem, in the secondmonth, began Zerubbabel the son of Shealtiel, and Jeshua the son ofJozadak, and the remnant of their brethren the priests and theLevites, and all they that were come out of the captivity untoJerusalem; and appointed the Levites, from twenty years old andupward, to set forward the work of the house of the Lord. 9. Thenstood Jeshua with his sons and his brethren, Kadmiel and his sons, thesons of Judah, together, to set forward the workmen in the house ofGod: the sons of Henadad, with their sons and their brethren theLevites. 10. And when the builders laid the foundation of the Templeof the Lord, they set the priests in their apparel with trumpets, andthe Levites, the sons of Asaph, with cymbals, to praise the Lord,after the ordinance of David king of Israel. 11. And they sangtogether by course in praising and giving thanks unto the Lord;because He is good, for His mercy endureth for ever toward Israel. Andall the people shouted with a great shout, when they praised the Lord,because the foundation of the house of the Lord was laid. 12. But manyof the priests and Levites and chief of the fathers, who were ancientmen, that had seen the first house, when the foundation of this housewas laid before their eyes, wept with a loud voice; and many shoutedaloud for joy: 13. So that the people could not discern the noise ofthe shout of joy from the noise of the weeping of the people: for thepeople shouted with a loud shout, and the noise was heard afaroff.'—EZRA iii. 1-13.

What an opportunity of 'picturesque' writing the author of this bookhas missed by his silence about the incidents of the march across thedreary levels from Babylon to the verge of Syria! But the very silenceis eloquent. It reveals the purpose of the book, which is to tell ofthe re-establishment of the Temple and its worship. No doubt the toneof the whole is somewhat prosaic, and indicative of an age in whichthe externals of worship bulked largely; but still the central pointof the narrative was really the centre-point of the events. Theaustere simplicity of biblical history shows the real points ofimportance better than more artistic elaboration would do.

This passage has two main incidents—the renewal of the sacrifices,and the beginning of rebuilding the Temple.

The date given in verse 1 is significant. The first day of the seventhmonth was the commencement of the great festival of tabernacles, themost joyous feast of the year, crowded with reminiscences from theremote antiquity of the Exodus, and from the dedication of Solomon'sTemple. How long had passed since Cyrus' decree had been issued we donot know, nor whether his 'first year' was reckoned by the samechronology as the Jewish year, of which we here arrive at the seventhmonth. But the journey across the desert must have taken some months,and the previous preparations could not have been suddenly gotthrough, so that there can have been but a short time between thearrival in Judea and the gathering together 'as one man to Jerusalem.'

There was barely interval enough for the returning exiles to takepossession of their ancestral fields before they were called to leavethem unguarded and hasten to the desolate city. Surely their glad andunanimous obedience to the summons, or, as it may even have been,their spontaneous assemblage unsummoned, is no small token of theirardour of devotion, even if they were somewhat slavishly tied toexternals. It would take a good deal to draw a band of new settlers inour days to leave their lots and set to putting up a church beforethey had built themselves houses.

The leaders of the band of returned exiles demand a brief notice. Theyare Jeshua, or Joshua, and Zerubbabel. In verse 2 the ecclesiasticaldignitary comes first, but in verse 8 the civil. Similarly in Ezra ii.2, Zerubbabel precedes Jeshua. In Haggai, the priest is pre-eminent;in Zechariah the prince. The truth seems to be that each was supremein his own department, and that they understood each other cordially,or, Zechariah says, 'the counsel of peace' was 'between them both.' Itis sometimes bad for the people when priests and rulers lay theirheads together; but it is even worse when they pull different ways,and subjects are torn in two by conflicting obligations.

Jeshua was the grandson of Seraiah, the unfortunate high-priest whoseeyes Nebuchadnezzar put out after the fall of Jerusalem. His sonJozadak succeeded to the dignity, though there could be no sacrificesin Babylon, and after him his son Jeshua. He cannot have been a youngman at the date of the return; but age had not dimmed his enthusiasm,and the high-priest was where he ought to have been, in the forefrontof the returning exiles. His name recalls the other Joshua, likewise aleader from captivity and the desert; and, if we appreciate thesignificance attached to names in Scripture, we shall scarcely supposeit accidental that these two, who had similar work to do, bore thesame name as the solitary third, of whom they were pale shadows, thegreater Joshua, who brings His people from bondage into His own landof peace, and builds the Temple.

Zerubbabel ('Sown in Babylon') belonged to a collateral branch of theroyal family. The direct Davidic line through Solomon died with thewretched Zedekiah and Jeconiah, but the descendants of another son ofDavid's, Nathan, still survived. Their representative was oneSalathiel, who, on the failure of the direct line, was regarded as the'son of Jeconiah' (1 Chron. iii. 17). He seems to have had no son, andZerubbabel, who was really his nephew (1 Chron. iii. 19), was legallyadopted as his son. In this makeshift fashion, some shadow of theancient royalty still presided over the restored people. We seeZerubbabel better in Haggai and Zechariah than in Ezra, and candiscern the outline of a strong, bold, prompt nature. He had a hardtask, and he did it like a man. Patient, yet vigorous, glowing withenthusiasm, yet clear-eyed, self-forgetful, and brave, he has hadscant justice done him, and ought to be a very much more familiar andhonoured figure than he is. 'Who art thou, O great mountain? BeforeZerubbabel thou shalt become a plain.' Great mountains only becomeplains before men of strong wills and fixed faith.

There is something very pathetic in the picture of the assembledpeople groping amid the ruins on the Temple hill, to find 'the bases,'the half-obliterated outlines, of the foundations of the old altar ofburnt offerings. What memories of Araunah's threshing-floor, and ofthe hovering angel of destruction, and of the glories of Solomon'sdedication, and of the long centuries during which the column of smokehad gone up continually from that spot, and of the tragical day whenthe fire was quenched, and of the fifty years of extinction, must havefilled their hearts! What a conflict of gladness and sorrow must havetroubled their spirits as the flame again shot upwards from the hearthof God, cold for so long!

But the reason for their so quickly rearing the altar is noteworthy.It was because 'fear was upon them because of the people of thecountries.' The state of the Holy Land at the return must be clearlycomprehended. Samaria and the central district were in the hands ofbitter enemies. Across Jordan in the east, down on the Philistineplain in the west, and in the south where Edom bore sway, eagerenemies sulkily watched the small beginnings of a movement which theywere interested in thwarting. There was only the territory of Judahand Benjamin left free for the exiles, and they had reason for theirfears; for their neighbours knew that if restitution was to be theorder of the day, they would have to disgorge a good deal. What wasthe defence against such foes which these frightened men thought mostimpregnable? That altar!

No doubt, much superstition mingled with their religion. Haggai leavesus under no illusions as to their moral and spiritual condition. Theywere no patterns of devoutness or of morality. But still, what theydid carries an eternal truth; and they were reverting to the originalterms of Israel's tenure of their land when they acted on theconviction that their worship of Jehovah according to His commandmentwas their surest way of finding shelter from all their enemies. Thereare differences plain enough between their condition and ours; but itis as true for us as ever it was for them, that our safety is in God,and that, if we want to find shelter from impending dangers, we shallbe wiser to betake ourselves to the altar and sit suppliant there thanto make defences for ourselves. The ruined Jerusalem was betterguarded by that altar than if its fallen walls had been rebuilt.

The whole ritual was restored, as the narrative tells with obvioussatisfaction in the enumeration. To us this punctilious attention tothe minutiae of sacrificial worship sounds trivial. But we equally errif we try to bring such externalities into the worship of theChristian Church, and if we are blind to their worth at an earlierstage.

There cannot be a temple without an altar, but there may be an altarwithout a temple. God meets men at the place of sacrifice, even thoughthere be no house for His name. The order of events here teaches uswhat is essential for communion with God. It is the altar. Sacrificelaid there is accepted, whether it stand on a bare hill-top, or haveround it the courts of the Lord's house.

The second part of the passage narrates the laying of the foundationsof the Temple. There had been contracts entered into with masons andcarpenters, and arrangements made with the Phoenicians for timber, assoon as the exiles had returned; but of course some time elapsedbefore the stone and timber were sufficient to make a beginning with.Note in verse 7 the reference to Cyrus' grant as enabling the peopleto get these stores together. Whether the whole preparations, or onlythe transport of cedar wood, is intended to be traced to the influenceof that decree, there seems to be a tacit contrast, in the writer'smind, with the glorious days when no heathen king had to be consulted,and Hiram and Solomon worked together like brothers. Now, so fallenare we, that Tyre and Sidon will not look at us unless we bring Cyrus'rescript in our hands!

If the 'years' in verses 1 and 8 are calculated from the samebeginning, some seven months were spent in preparation, and then thefoundation was laid. Two things are noted—the humble attempt atmaking some kind of a display on the occasion, and the conflict offeeling in the onlookers. They had managed to get some copies of theprescribed vestments; and the narrator emphasises the fact that thepriests were 'in their apparel,' and that the Levites had cymbals, sothat some approach to the pomp of Solomon's dedication was possible.They did their best to adhere to the ancient prescriptions, and it wasno mere narrow love of ritual that influenced them. However we maybreathe a freer air of worship, we cannot but sympathise with thatearnest attempt to do everything 'according to the order of David kingof Israel.' Not only punctiliousness as to ritual, but the magnetismof glorious memories, prescribed the reproduction of that past. Riteslong proscribed become very sacred, and the downtrodden successors ofmighty men will cling with firm grasp to what the greater fathers did.

The ancient strain which still rings from Christian lips, and bidsfair to be as eternal as the mercies which it hymns, rose with strangepathos from the lips of the crowd on the desolate Temple mountain,ringed about by the waste solitudes of the city: 'For He is good, forHis mercy endureth for ever toward Israel.' It needed some faith tosing that song then, even with the glow of return upon them. What ofall the weary years? What of the empty homesteads, and the surroundingenemies, and the brethren still in Babylon? No doubt some at least ofthe rejoicing multitude had learned what the captivity was meant toteach, and had come to bless God, both for the long years of exile,which had burned away much dross, and for the incomplete work ofrestoration, surrounded though they were with foes, and little as wastheir strength to fight. The trustful heart finds occasion forunmingled praise in the most mingled cup of joy and sorrow.

There can have been very few in that crowd who had seen the formerTemple, and their memories of its splendour must have been very dim.But partly remembrance and partly hearsay made the contrast of thepast glories and the present poverty painful. Hence that pathetic andprofoundly significant incident of the blended shouts of the young andtears of the old. One can fancy that each sound jarred on the ears ofthose who uttered the other. But each was wholly natural to the yearsof the two classes. Sad memories gather, like evening mists, roundaged lives, and the temptation of the old is unduly to exalt the past,and unduly to depreciate the present. Welcoming shouts for the newbefit young lips, and they care little about the ruins that have to becarted off the ground for the foundations of the temple which they areto have a hand in building. However imperfect, it is better to themthan the old house where the fathers worshipped.

But each class should try to understand the other's feelings. Thefriends of the old should not give a churlish welcome to the new, northose of the new forget the old. It is hard to blend the two, eitherin individual life or in a wider sphere of thought or act. The seniorsthink the juniors revolutionary and irreverent; the juniors think theseniors fossils. It is possible to unite the shout of joy and theweeping. Unless a spirit of reverent regard for the past presides overthe progressive movements of this or any day, they will not lay asolid foundation for the temple of the future. We want the old and theyoung to work side by side, if the work is to last and the sanctuaryis to be ample enough to embrace all shades of character andtendencies of thought. If either the grey beards of Solomon's court orthe hot heads of Rehoboam's get the reins in their hands, they willupset the chariot. That mingled sound of weeping and joy from theTemple hill tells a more excellent way.

BUILDING IN TROUBLOUS TIMES

'Now when the adversaries of Judah and Benjamin heard that thechildren of the captivity builded the temple unto the Lord God ofIsrael; 2. Then they came to Zerubbabel, and to the chief of thefathers, and said unto them, Let us build with you: for we seek yourGod, as ye do; and we do sacrifice unto Him since the days ofEsar-haddon king of Assur, which brought us up hither. 3. ButZerubbabel, and Joshua, and the rest of the chief of the fathers ofIsrael, said unto them, Ye have nothing to do with us to build anhouse unto our God; but we ourselves together will build unto the LordGod of Israel, as king Cyrus the king of Persia hath commanded us. 4.Then the people of the land weakened the hands of the people of Judah,and troubled them in building, 5. And hired counsellors against them,to frustrate their purpose, all the days of Cyrus king of Persia, evenuntil the reign of Darius king of Persia.'—EZRA iv. 1-5.

Opposition began as soon as the foundations were laid, as is usuallythe case with all great attempts to build God's house. It came fromthe Samaritans, the mingled people who were partly descendants of theancient remnant of the northern kingdom, left behind after the removalby deportation of the bulk of its population, and partly thedescendants of successive layers of immigrants, planted in the emptyterritory by successive Assyrian and Babylonian kings. Esar-haddon wasthe first who had sent colonists, about one hundred and thirty yearsbefore the return. The writer calls the Samaritans 'the adversaries,'though they began by offers of friendship and alliance. The nameimplies that these offers were perfidious, and a move in the struggle.

One can easily understand that the Samaritans looked with suspicion onthe new arrivals, the ancient possessors of the land, coming under theauspices of the new dynasty, and likely to interfere with theirposition if not reduced to inferiority or neutralised somehow. Theproposal to unite in building the Temple was a political move; for, inold-world ideas, co-operation in Temple-building was incorporation innational unity. The calculation, no doubt, was that if the returningexiles could be united with the much more numerous Samaritans, theywould soon be absorbed in them. The only chance for the smaller bodywas to keep itself apart, and to run the risk of its isolation.

The insincere request was based on an untruth, for the Samaritans didnot worship Jehovah as the Jews, but along with their own gods (2Kings xvii. 25-41). To divide His dominion with others was to dethroneHim altogether. It therefore became an act of faithfulness to Jehovahto reject the entangling alliance. To have accepted it would have beentantamount to frustrating the very purpose of the return, andconsenting to be muzzled about the sin of idolatry. But the chieflesson which exile had burned in on the Jewish mind was a loathing ofidolatry, which is in remarkable contrast to the inclination to itthat had marked their previous history. So one answer only waspossible, and it was given with unwelcome plainness of speech, whichmight have been more courteous, and not less firm. It flatly deniedany common ground; it claimed exclusive relation to 'our God,' whichmeant, 'not yours'; it underscored the claim by reiterating thatJehovah was the 'God of Israel'; it put forward the decree of Cyrus,as leaving no option but to confine the builders to the people whom ithad empowered to build.

Now, it is easy to represent this as a piece of impolitic narrowness,and to say that its surly bigotry was rightly punished by the evilsthat it brought down on the returning exiles. The temper of muchflaccid Christianity at present delights to expand in a lazy andfoolish 'liberality,' which will welcome anybody to come and take ahand at the building, and accepts any profession of unity in worship.But there is no surer way of taking the earnestness out of Christianwork and workers than drafting into it a mass of non-Christians,whatever their motives may be. Cold water poured into a boiling potwill soon stop its bubbling, and bring down its temperature. Thechurches are clogged and impeded, and their whole tone lowered andchilled, by a mass of worldly men and women. Nothing is gained, andmuch is in danger of being lost, by obliterating the lines between thechurch and the world. The Jew who thought little of the differencebetween the Samaritan worship with its polytheism, and his ownmonotheism, was in peril of dropping to the Samaritan level. TheSamaritan who was accepted as a true worshipper of Jehovah, though hehad a bevy of other gods in addition, would have been confirmed in hisbelief that the differences were unimportant. So both would have beenharmed by what called itself 'liberality,' and was in realityindifference.

No doubt, Zerubbabel had counted the cost of faithfulness, and he soonhad to pay it. The would-be friends threw off the mask, and, as theycould not hinder by pretending to help, took a plainer way to stopprogress. All the weapons that Eastern subtlety and intrigue could usewere persistently employed to 'weaken the hands' of the builders, andthe most potent of all methods, bribery to Persian officials, wasfreely used. The opponents triumphed, and the little community beganto taste the bitterness of high hopes disappointed and nobleenterprises frustrated. How differently things had turned out from theexpectations with which the company had set forth from Babylon! Therough awakening to realities disillusions us all when we come to turndreams into facts. The beginning of laying the Temple foundations isput in 536 B.C.; the first year of Darius was 522. How soon after thecommencement of the work the Samaritan tricks succeeded we do notknow, but it must have been some time before the death of Cyrus in529. For weary years then the sanguine band had to wait idly, and nodoubt enthusiasm died out: they had enough to do in keeping themselvesalive, and in holding their own amidst enemies. They needed, as we alldo, patience, and a willingness to wait for God's own time to fulfilHis own promise.

THE NEW TEMPLE AND ITS WORSHIP

'And the elders of the Jews builded, and they prospered through theprophesying of Haggai the prophet and Zechariah the son of Iddo: andthey builded, and finished it, according to the commandment of the Godof Israel, and according to the commandment of Cyrus, and Darius, andArtaxerxes king of Persia. 15. And this house was finished on thethird day of the month Adar, which was in the sixth year of the reignof Darius the king. 16. And the children of Israel, the priests, andthe Levites, and the rest of the children of the captivity, kept thededication of this house of God with joy, 17. And offered at thededication of this house of God an hundred bullocks, two hundred rams,four hundred lambs; and for a sin offering for all Israel, twelvehe-goats, according to the number of the tribes of Israel. 18. Andthey set the priests in their divisions, and the Levites in theircourses, for the service of God, which is at Jerusalem; as it iswritten in the book of Moses. 19. And the children of the captivitykept the passover upon the fourteenth day of the first month. 20. Forthe priests and the Levites were purified together, all of them werepure, and killed the passover for all the children of the captivity,and for their brethren the priests, and for themselves. 21. And thechildren of Israel, which were come again out of captivity, and allsuch as had separated themselves unto them from the filthiness of theheathen of the land, to seek the Lord God of Israel, did eat, 22. Andkept the feast of unleavened bread seven days with joy: for the Lordhad made them joyful, and turned the heart of the king of Assyria untothem, to strengthen their hands in the work of the house of God, theGod of Israel.'—EZRA. vi. 14-22.

There are three events recorded in this passage,—the completion ofthe Temple, its dedication, and the keeping of the passover some weeksthereafter. Four years intervene between the resumption of buildingand its successful finish, much of which time had been occupied by theinterference of the Persian governor, which compelled a reference toDarius, and resulted in his confirmation of Cyrus' charter. The king'sstringent orders silenced opposition, and seem to have been loyally,however unwillingly, obeyed. About twenty-three years passed betweenthe return of the exiles and the completion of the Temple.

I. The prosperous close of the long task (vers. 14, 15). The narrativeenumerates three points in reference to the completion of the Templewhich are very significant, and, taken together, set forth thestimulus and law and helps of work for God.

It is expressive of deep truth that first in order is named, as thecause of success, 'the prophesying of Haggai and Zechariah.''Practical men,' no doubt, then as always, set little store by the twoprophets' fiery words, and thought that a couple of masons would havedone more for the building than they did. The contempt for 'ideas' isthe mark of shallow and vulgar minds. Nothing is more practical thanprinciples and motives which underlie and inform work, and these twoprophets did more for building the Temple by their words than an armyof labourers with their hands. 'There are diversities of operations,'and it is not given to every man to handle a trowel; but no good workwill be prosperously accomplished unless there be engaged in itprophets who rouse and rebuke and hearten, and toilers who by theirwords are encouraged and saved from forgetting the sacred motives andgreat ends of their work in the monotony and multiplicity of details.

Still more important is the next point mentioned. The work was done'according to the commandment of the God of Israel.' There is peculiarbeauty and pathos in that name, which is common in Ezra. It speaks ofthe sense of unity in the nation, though but a fragment of it had comeback. There was still an Israel, after all the dreary years, and inspite of present separation. God was still its God, though He hadhidden His face for so long. An inextinguishable faith, wistful butassured, in His unalterable promise, throbs in that name, so littlewarranted by a superficial view of circ*mstances, but so amplyvindicated by a deeper insight. His 'commandment' is at once thewarrant and the standard for the work of building. In His service weare to be sure that He bids, and then to carry out His will whoeveropposes.

We are to make certain that our building is 'according to the patternshowed in the mount,' and, if so, to stick to it in every point. Thereis no room for more than one architect in rearing the temple. Theworking drawings must come from Him. We are only His workmen. Andthough we may know no more of the general plan of the structure thanthe day-labourer who carries a hod does, we must be sure that we haveHis orders for our little bit of work, and then we may be at rest evenwhile we toil. They who build according to His commandment build foreternity, and their work shall stand the trial by fire. That motiveturns what without it were but 'wood, hay, stubble,' into 'gold andsilver and precious stones.'

The last point is that the work was done according to the commandmentof the heathen kings. We need not discuss the chronological difficultyarising from the mention of Artaxerxes here. The only king of thatname who can be meant reigned fifty years after the events herenarrated. The mention of him here has been explained by 'theconsideration that he contributed to the maintenance, though not tothe building, of the Temple.' Whatever is the solution, the intentionof the mention of the names of the friendly monarchs is plain. 'Theking's heart is in the hand of the Lord as the watercourses; Heturneth it whithersoever He will.' The wonderful providence,surpassing all hopes, which gave the people 'favour in the eyes ofthem that carried them captive,' animates the writer's thankfulness,while he recounts that miracle that the commandment of God wasre-echoed by such lips. The repetition of the word in both clausesunderscores, as it were, the remarkable concurrence.

II. The dedication of the Temple (vers. 16-18). How long thededication was after the completion is not specified. The month Adarwas the last of the Jewish year, and corresponded nearly with ourMarch. Probably the ceremonial of dedication followed immediately onthe completion of the building. Probably few, if any, of the aged men,who had wept at the founding, survived to see the completion of theTemple. A new generation had no such sad contrasts of presentlowliness and former glory to shade their gladness. So many dangerssurmounted, so many long years of toil interrupted and hope deferred,gave keener edge to joy in the fair result of them all.

We may cherish the expectation that our long tasks, and oftendisappointments, will have like ending if they have been met and donein like spirit, having been stimulated by prophets and commanded byGod. It is not wholesome nor grateful to depreciate present blessingsby contrasting them with vanished good. Let us take what God givesto-day, and not embitter it by remembering yesterday with vain regret.There is a remembrance of the former more splendid Temple in the nameof the new one, which is thrice repeated in the passage,—'thishouse.' But that phrase expresses gratitude quite as much as, or morethan, regret. The former house is gone, but there is still 'thishouse,' and it is as truly God's as the other was. Let us grasp theblessings we have, and be sure that in them is continued the substanceof those we have lost.

The offerings were poor, if compared with Solomon's 'two and twentythousand oxen, and an hundred and twenty thousand sheep' (1 Kingsviii. 63), and no doubt the despisers of the 'day of small things,'whom Zechariah had rebuked, would be at their depreciating work again.But 'if there be first a willing mind, it is accepted according tothat a man hath, and not according to that he hath not.' Thethankfulness of the offerers, not the number of their bullocks andrams, made the sacrifice well pleasing. But it would not have been soif the exiles' resources had been equal to the great King's. How manycattle had they in their stalls at home, not how many they brought tothe Temple, was the important question. The man who says, 'Oh! Godaccepts small offerings,' and gives a mite while he keeps talents,might as well keep his mite too; for certainly God will not have it.

A significant part of the offerings was the 'twelve he-goats,according to the number of the tribes of Israel.' These spoke of thesame confidence as we have already noticed as being expressed by thedesignation of 'the God of Israel.' Possibly scattered members of allthe tribes had come back, and so there was a kind of skeletonframework of the nation present at the dedication; but, whether thatbe so or not, that handful of people was not Israel. Thousands oftheir brethren still lingered in exile, and the hope of their returnmust have been faint. Yet God's promise remained, and Israel wasimmortal. The tribes were still twelve, and the sacrifices were stilltheirs. A thrill of emotion must have touched many hearts as thetwelve goats were led up to the altar. So an Englishman feels as helooks at the crosses on the Union Jack.

But there was more than patriotism in that sacrifice. It witnessed tounshaken faith. And there was still more expressed in it than theofferers dreamed; for it prophesied of that transformation of thenational into the spiritual Israel, in virtue of which the promisesremain true, and are inherited by the Church of Christ in all lands.

The re-establishment of the Temple worship with the appointment ofpriests and Levites, according to the ancient ordinance, naturallyfollowed on the dedication.

III. The celebration of the Passover (vers. 19-22). It took place onthe fourteenth day of the first month, and probably, therefore, verysoon after the dedication. They 'kept the feast, … for the priestsand Levites were purified together.' The zeal of the sacerdotal classin attending to the prescriptions for ceremonial purity made itpossible that the feast should be observed. How much of real devotion,and how much of mere eagerness to secure their official position,mingled with this zeal, cannot be determined. Probably there was atouch of both. Scrupulous observance of ritual is easy religion,especially if one's position is improved by it. But the connectionpointed out by the writer is capable of wide applications. The truepurity and earnestness of preachers and teachers of all degrees hasmuch to do with their hearers' and scholars' participation in theblessings of the Gospel. If priests are not pure, they cannot kill thepassover. Earnest teachers make earnest scholars. Foul hands cannotdispense the bread of life.

There is a slight deviation from the law in the ritual as here stated,since it was prescribed that each householder should kill the passoverlamb for his house. But from the time of Hezekiah the Levites seem tohave done it for the congregation (2 Chron. xxx. 17), and afterwardsfor the priests also (2 Chron. xxxv. 11, 14).

Verse 21 tells that not only the returned exiles, but also 'all suchas had separated themselves unto them from the filthiness of theheathen of the land, to seek the Lord God of Israel,' ate thepassover. It may be questioned whether these latter were Israelites,the descendants of the residue who had not been deported, but who hadfallen into idolatry during the exile, or heathens of the mixedpopulations who had been settled in the vacant country. The emphasisput on their turning to Israel and Israel's God seems to favour thelatter supposition. But in any case, the fact presents us with anillustration of the proper effect of the presence anywhere of acompany of God's true worshippers. If we purify ourselves, and keepthe feast of the true passover with joy as well as purity, we shallnot want for outsiders who will separate themselves from the moresubtle and not less dangerous idolatries of modern life, to seek theLord God of Israel. If His Israel is what it ought to be, it willattract. A bit of scrap-iron in contact with a magnet is a magnet.They who live in touch with Him who said, 'I will draw all men untoMe' will share His attractive power in the measure of their union withHim.

The week after the passover feast was, according to the ritual,observed as the feast of unleavened bread. The narrative toucheslightly on the ceremonial, and dwells in conclusion on the joy of theworshippers and its cause. They do well to be glad whom God makesglad. All other joy bears in it the seeds of death. It is, in oneaspect, the end of God's dealings, that we should be glad in Him. Wisem*n will not regard that as a less noble end than making us pure; infact, the two are united. The 'blessed God' is glad in our gladnesswhen it is His gladness.

Notice the exulting wonder with which God's miracle of mercy isreported in its source and its glorious result. The heart of the kingwas turned to them, and no power but God's could have done that. Theissue of that divine intervention was the completed Temple, in whichonce more the God of that Israel which He had so marvellously restoreddwelt in the midst of His people.

GOD THE JOY-BRINGER

'They kept the feast … seven days with joy; for the Lord had madethem joyful.'—EZRA vi. 22.

Twenty years of hard work and many disappointments and dangers had atlast, for the Israelites returning from the captivity, been crowned bythe completion of the Temple. It was a poor affair as compared withthe magnificent house that had stood upon Zion; and so some of them'despised the day of small things.' They were ringed about by enemies;they were feeble in themselves; there was a great deal to darken theirprospects and to sadden their hearts; and yet, when memories of theancient days came back, and once more they saw the sacrificial smokerising from the long cold and ruined altar, they rejoiced in God, andthey kept the passover amid the ruins, as my text tells us, for the'seven days' of the statutory period 'with joy,' because, in spite ofall, 'the Lord had made them joyful.'

I think if we take this simple saying we get two or three thoughts,not altogether irrelevant to universal experience, about the true andthe counterfeit gladnesses possible to us all.

I. Look at that great and wonderful thought—God the joy-maker.

We do not often realise how glad God is when we are glad, and howworthy an object of much that He does is simply the prosperity and theblessedness of human hearts. The poorest creature that lives has aright to ask from God the satisfaction of its instincts, and every manhas a claim on God—because he is God's creature—to make him glad.God honours all cheques legitimately drawn on Him, and answers allclaims, and regards Himself as occupied in a manner entirely congruouswith His magnificence and His infinitude, when He stoops to put somekind of vibrating gladness into the wings of a gnat that dances for anhour in the sunshine, and into the heart of a man that lives his timefor only a very little longer.

God is the Joy-maker. There are far more magnificent and sublimethoughts about Him than that; but I do not know that there is any thatought to come nearer to our hearts, and to silence more of ourgrumblings and of our distrust, than the belief that the gladness ofHis children is an end contemplated by Him in all that He does.Whether we think it of small importance or no, He does not think itso, that all mankind should rejoice in Himself. And this is amarvellous revelation to break out of the very heart of thatcomparatively hard system of ancient Judaism. 'The Lord hath made themjoyful.'

Turning away from the immediate connection of these words, let meremind you of the great outlines of the divine provision forgladdening men's hearts. I was going to say that God had only one wayof making us glad; and perhaps that is in the deepest sense true. Thatway is by putting Himself into us. He gives us Himself to make usglad; for nothing else will do it—or, at least, though there may bemany subordinate sources of joy, if there be in the innermost shrineof our spirits an empty place, where the Shekinah ought to shine, noother joys will suffice to settle and to rejoice the soul. The secretof all true human well-being is close communion with God; and when Helooks at the poorest of us, desiring to make us blessed, He can butsay, 'I will give Myself to that poor man; to that ignorant creature;to that wayward and prodigal child; to that harlot in her corruption;to that worldling in his narrow godlessness; I will give Myself, ifthey will have Me.' And thus, and only thus, does He make us truly,perfectly, and for ever glad.

Besides that, or rather as a sequel and consequence of that, therecome such other God-given blessings as these to which my text refers.What were the outward reasons for the restored exiles' gladness? 'TheLord had made them joyful, and turned the heart of the king … untothem to strengthen their hands in the work of the house of God, theGod of Israel.'

So, then, He pours into men's lives by His providences the secondaryand lower gifts which men, according to changing circ*mstances, need;and He also satisfies the permanent physical necessities of all ordersof beings to whom He has given life. He gives Himself for the spirit;He gives whatever is contributory to any kind of gladness; and if weare wise we shall trace all to Him. He is the Joy-giver; and that manhas not yet understood either the sanctity of life or the fullsweetness of its sweetest things unless he sees, written over everyone of them, the name of God, their giver. Your common mercies are Hislove tokens, and they all come to us, just as the gifts of parents totheir children do, with this on the fly-leaf, 'With a father's love.'Whatever comes to God's child with that inscription, surely it oughtto kindle a thrill of gladness. That 'the king of Assyria's heart isturned'; shall we thank the king of Assyria? Yes and No! For it wasGod who 'turned' it. Oh! to carry the quiet confidence of that thoughtinto all our daily life, and see His name written upon everything thatcontributes to make us blessed. God is the true Source and Maker ofevery joy.

And by the side of that we must put this other thought—there aresources of joy with which He has nothing to do. There are people whoare joyful—and there are some of them listening now—not because Godmade them joyful, but because 'the world, the devil, and the flesh'have given them ghastly caricatures of the true gladness. And theserival sources of blessedness, the existence of which my text suggests,are the enemies of all that is good and noble in us and in our joys.God made these men joyful, and so their gladness was wholesome.

II. Note the consequent obligation and wisdom of taking our God-givenjoys.

'They kept the feast with joy, for the Lord had made them joyful.'Then it is our obligation to accept and use what it is His blessednessto give. Be sure you take Him. When He is waiting to pour all His loveinto your heart, and all His sweetness into your sensitive spirit, tocalm your anxieties, to deepen your blessedness, to strengtheneverything that is good in you, to be to you a stay in the midst ofcrumbling prosperity, and a Light in the midst of gathering darkness,be sure that you take the joy that waits your acceptance. Do not letit be said that, when the Lord Christ has come down from heaven, andlived upon earth, and gone back to heaven, and sent His Spirit todwell in you, you lock the door against the entrance of thejoy-bringing Messenger, and are sad and restless and discontentedbecause you have shut out the God who desires to abide in your hearts.

'They kept the feast with joy, because the Lord had made them joyful.'Oh! how many Christian men and women there are, who in the midst ofthe abundant and wonderful provision for continual cheerfulness andbuoyancy of spirit given to them in the promises of the Gospel, in thegifts of Christ, in the indwelling of the Divine Spirit, do yet gothrough life creeping and sad, burdened and anxious, perplexed and attheir wits' end, just because they will not have the God who yearns tocome to them, or at least will not have Him in anything like thefullness and the completeness in which He desires to bestow Himself.If God gives, surely we are bound to receive. It is an obligation uponChristian men and women, which they do not sufficiently realise, to beglad, and it is a commandment needing to be reiterated. 'Rejoice inthe Lord always; and again I say, rejoice.' Would that Christianexperience in this generation was more alive to the obligation and theblessedness of perpetual joy arising from perpetual communion withHim.

Further, another obligation is to recognise Him in all common mercies,because He is at the back of them all. Let them always proclaim Him tous. Oh! if we did not go through the world blinded to the real Powerthat underlies all its motions, we should feel that everything wasvocal to us of the loving-kindness of our Father in heaven. Link Him,dear friend! with everything that makes your heart glad; witheverything pleasant that comes to you. There is nothing good or sweetbut it flows from Him. There is no common delight of flesh or sense,of sight or taste or smell, no little enjoyment that makes the momentpass more brightly, no drop of oil that eases the friction of thewheels of life, but it may be elevated into greatness and nobleness,and will then first be understood in its true significance, if it isconnected with Him. God does not desire to be put away high up on apedestal above our lives, as if He regulated the great things and thetrifles regulated themselves; but He seeks to come, as air into thelungs, into every particle of the mass of life, and to fill it allwith His own purifying presence.

Recognise Him in common joys. If, when we sit down to partake of them,we would say to ourselves, 'The Lord has made us joyful,' all our homedelights, all our social pleasures, all our intellectual and all oursensuous ones—rest and food and drink and all other goods for thebody—they would all be felt to be great, as they indeed are. Enjoyedin Him, the smallest is great; without Him, the greatest is small.'The Lord made them joyful'; and what is large enough for Him to giveought not to be too small for us to receive with recognition of Hishand.

Another piece of wholesome counsel in this matter is—Be sure that youuse the joys which God does give. Many good people seem to think thatit is somehow devout and becoming to pitch most of their songs in aminor key, and to be habitually talking about trials anddisappointments, and 'a desert land,' and 'Brief life is here ourportion,' and so on, and so on. There are two ways in which you canlook at the world and at everything that befalls you. There is enoughin everybody's life to make him sad if he sulkily selects these thingsto dwell upon. There is enough in everybody's life to make himcontinually glad if he wisely picks out these to think about. Itdepends altogether on the angle at which you look at your life whatyou see in it. For instance, you know how children do when they get abit of a willow wand into their possession. They cut off rings ofbark, and get the switch alternately white and black, white and black,and so on right away to the tip. Whether will you look at the whiterings or the black ones? They are both there. But if you rightly lookat the black you will find out that there is white below it, and itonly needs a very little stripping off of a film to make it into whitetoo. Or, to put it into simpler words, no Christian man has the rightto regard anything that God's Providence brings to him as suchunmingled evil that it ought to make him sad. We are bound to 'rejoicein the Lord always.'

I know how hard it is, but sure am I that it is possible for a man, ifhe keeps near Jesus Christ, to reproduce Paul's paradox of being'sorrowful yet always rejoicing,' and even in the midst of darknessand losses and sorrows and blighted hopes and disappointed aims torejoice in the Lord, and to 'keep the feast with gladness, because theLord has made him joyful.' Nor do we discharge our duty, unless sideby side with the sorrow which is legitimate, which is blessed,strengthening, purifying, calming, moderating, there is also 'joyunspeakable and full of glory.'

Again, be sure that you limit your delights to God-made joys. Too manyof us have what parts of our nature recognise as satisfaction, and areglad to have, apart from Him. There is nothing sadder than the joysthat come into a life, and do not come from God. Oh! let us see to itthat we do not fill our cisterns with poisonous sewage when God iswaiting to fill them with the pure 'river of the water of life.' Donot let us draw our blessedness from the world and its evils. Does myjoy help me to come near to God? Does it interfere with my communionwith Him? Does it aid me in the consecration of myself? Does myconscience go with it when my conscience is most awake? Do I recogniseHim as the Giver of the thing that is so blessed? If we can say Yes!to these questions, we can venture to believe that our blessednesscomes from God, and leads to God, however homely, however sensuous andmaterial may be its immediate occasion. But if not, then the less wehave to do with such sham gladness the better. 'Even in laughter theheart is sorrowful, and the end of that mirth is heaviness.' Thealternative presented for the choice of each of us is whether we willhave surface joy and a centre of dark discontent, or surface sorrowand a centre of calm blessedness. The film of stagnant water on a pondfull of rottenness simulates the glories of the rainbow, in which puresunshine falls upon the pure drops, but it is only painted corruptionafter all, a sign of rotting; and if a man puts his lips to it it willkill him. Such is the joy which is apart from God. It is the'crackling of thorns under a pot'—the more fiercely they burn thesooner they are ashes. And, on the other hand, 'these things have Ispoken unto you that My joy might remain in you, and that your joymight be full.'

It is not 'for seven days' that we 'keep the feast' if God has 'madeus joyful,' but for all the rest of the days of time, and for theendless years of the calm gladnesses of the heavens.

HEROIC FAITH

'I was ashamed to require of the king a band of soldiers and horsem*nto help us against the enemy in the way: because we had spoken untothe king, saying, The hand of our God is upon them all for good thatseek Him…. 23. So we fasted and besought our God for this…. 31.The hand of our God was upon us, and He delivered us from the hand ofthe enemy, and of such as lay in wait by the way. 32. And we came toJerusalem.'—EZRA viii. 22, 23, 31, 32.

The memory of Ezra the scribe has scarcely had fairplay amongBible-reading people. True, neither his character nor the incidents ofhis life reach the height of interest or of grandeur belonging to theearlier men and their times. He is no hero, or prophet; only a scribe;and there is a certain narrowness as well as a prosaic turn about hismind, and altogether one feels that he is a smaller man than theElijahs and Davids of the older days. But the homely garb of thescribe covered a very brave devout heart, and the story of his lifedeserves to be more familiar to us than it is.

This scrap from the account of his preparations for the march fromBabylon to Jerusalem gives us a glimpse of a high-toned faith, and anoble strain of feeling. He and his company had a long weary journeyof four months before them. They had had little experience of arms andwarfare, or of hardships and desert marches, in their Babylonianhomes. Their caravan was made unwieldy and feeble by the presence of alarge proportion of women and children. They had much valuableproperty with them. The stony desert, which stretches unbroken fromthe Euphrates to the uplands on the east of Jordan, was infested thenas now by wild bands of marauders, who might easily swoop down on theencumbered march of Ezra and his men, and make a clean sweep of allwhich they had. And he knew that he had but to ask and have an escortfrom the king that would ensure their safety till they saw Jerusalem.Artaxerxes' surname, 'the long-handed,' may have described a physicalpeculiarity, but it also expressed the reach of his power; his armcould reach these wandering plunderers, and if Ezra and his troop werevisibly under his protection, they could march secure. So it was not asmall exercise of trust in a higher Hand that is told us here sosimply. It took some strength of principle to abstain from asking whatit would have been so natural to ask, so easy to get, so comfortableto have. But, as he says, he remembered how confidently he has spokenof God's defence, and he feels that he must be true to his professedcreed, even if it deprives him of the king's guards. He halts hisfollowers for three days at the last station before the desert, andthere, with fasting and prayer, they put themselves in God's hand; andthen the band, with their wives and little ones, and theirsubstance,—a heavily-loaded and feeble caravan,—fling themselvesinto the dangers of the long, dreary, robber-haunted march. Did notthe scribe's robe cover as brave a heart as ever beat beneath abreastplate?

That symbolic phrase, 'the hand of our God,' as expressive of thedivine protection, occurs with remarkable frequency in the books ofEzra and Nehemiah, and though not peculiar to them, is yet strikinglycharacteristic of them. It has a certain beauty and force of its own.The hand is of course the seat of active power. It is on or over a manlike some great shield held aloft above him, below which there is safehiding. So that great Hand bends itself over us, and we are securebeneath its hollow. As a child sometimes carries a tender-wingedbutterfly in the globe of its two hands that the bloom on the wingsmay not be ruffled by fluttering, so He carries our feeble, unarmouredsouls enclosed in the covert of His Almighty hand. 'Who hath measuredthe waters in the hollow of His hand?' 'Who hath gathered the wind inHis fists?' In that curved palm where all the seas lie as a verylittle thing, we are held; the grasp that keeps back the tempests fromtheir wild rush, keeps us, too, from being smitten by their blast. Asa father may lay his own large muscular hand on his child's tinyfingers to help him, or as 'Elisha put his hands on the king's hands,'that the contact might strengthen him to shoot the 'arrow of theLord's deliverance,' so the hand of our God is upon us to impart poweras well as protection; and our 'bow abides in strength,' when 'thearms of our hands are made strong by the hands of the mighty God ofJacob.' That was Ezra's faith, and that should be ours.

Note Ezra's sensitive shrinking from anything like inconsistencybetween his creed and his practice. It was easy to talk about God'sprotection when he was safe behind the walls of Babylon; but now thepinch had come. There was a real danger before him and his unwarlikefollowers. No doubt, too, there were plenty of people who would havebeen delighted to catch him tripping; and he felt that his cheekswould have tingled with shame if they had been able to say, 'Ah! thatis what all his fine professions come to, is it? He wants a convoy,does he? We thought as much. It is always so with these people whotalk in that style. They are just like the rest of us when the pinchcomes.' So, with a high and keen sense of what was required by hisavowed principles, he will have no guards for the road. Therewas a man whose religion was at any rate not a fair-weather religion.It did not go off in fine speeches about trusting to the protection ofGod, spoken from behind the skirts of the king, or from the middle ofa phalanx of his soldiers. He clearly meant what he said, and believedevery word of it as a prose fact, which was solid enough to buildconduct on.

I am afraid a great many of us would rather have tried to reconcileour asking for a band of horsem*n with our professed trust in God'shand; and there would have been plenty of excuses very ready aboutusing means as well as exercising faith, and not being called upon toabandon advantages, and not pushing a good principle to Quixoticlengths, and so on, and so on. But whatever truth there is in suchconsiderations, at any rate we may well learn the lesson of thisstory—to be true to our professed principles; to beware of making ourreligion a matter of words; to live, when the time for putting theminto practice comes, by the maxims which we have been forward toproclaim when there was no risk in applying them; and to try sometimesto look at our lives with the eyes of people who do not share ourfaith, that we may bring our actions up to the mark of what theyexpect of us. If 'the Church' would oftener think of what 'the world'looks for from it, it would seldomer have cause to be ashamed of theterrible gap between its words and its deeds.

Especially in regard to this matter of trust in an unseen Hand, andreliance on visible helps, we all need to be very rigid in ourself-inspection. Faith in the good hand of God upon us for good shouldoften lead to the abandonment, and always to the subordination, ofmaterial aids. It is a question of detail, which each man must settlefor himself as each occasion arises, whether in any given caseabandonment or subordination is our duty. This is not the place toenter on so large and difficult a question. But, at all events, let usremember, and try to work into our own lives, that principle which theeasy-going Christianity of this day has honeycombed with so manyexceptions, that it scarcely has any whole surface left at all; thatthe absolute surrender and forsaking of external helps and goods issometimes essential to the preservation and due expression of relianceon God.

There is very little fear of any of us pushing that principle toQuixotic lengths. The danger is all the other way. So it is worthwhile to notice that we have here an instance of a man's being carriedby a certain lofty enthusiasm further than the mere law of duty wouldtake him. There would have been no harm in Ezra's asking an escort,seeing that his whole enterprise was made possible by the king'ssupport. He would not have been 'leaning on an arm of flesh' byavailing himself of the royal troops, any more than when he used theroyal firman. But a true man often feels that he cannot do the thingswhich he might without sin do. 'All things are lawful for me, but allthings are not expedient,' said Paul. The same Apostle eagerlycontended that he had a perfect right to money support from theGentile Churches; and then, in the next breath, flamed up into, 'Ihave used none of these things, for it were better for me to die, thanthat any man should make my glorying void.' A sensitive spirit, or oneprofoundly stirred by religious emotion, will, like the apostle whosefeet were moved by love, far outrun the slower soul, whose steps areonly impelled by the thought of duty. Better that the cup should runover than that it should not be full. Where we delight to do His will,there will often be more than a scrupulously regulated enough; andwhere there is not sometimes that 'more,' there will never be enough.

'Give all thou canst; high Heaven rejects the lore
Of nicely calculated less or more.'

What shall we say of people who profess that God is their portion, andare as eager in the scramble for money as anybody? What kind of acommentary will sharp-sighted, sharp-tongued observers have a right tomake on us, whose creed is so unlike theirs, while our lives areidentical? Do you believe, friends! that 'the hand of our God is uponall them for good that seek Him'? Then, do you not think that racingafter the prizes of this world, with flushed cheeks and labouringbreath, or longing, with a gnawing hunger of heart, for any earthlygood, or lamenting over the removal of creatural defences and joys, asif heaven were empty because some one's place here is, or as if Godwere dead because dear ones die, may well be a shame to us, and ataunt on the lips of our enemies? Let us learn again the lesson fromthis old story,—that if our faith in God is not the veriest sham, itdemands and will produce, the abandonment sometimes and thesubordination always, of external helps and material good.

Notice, too, Ezra's preparation for receiving the divine help. There,by the river Ahava, he halts his company like a prudent leader, torepair omissions, and put the last touches to their organisationbefore facing the wilderness. But he has another purpose also. 'Iproclaimed a fast there, to seek of God a right way for us.' There wasno foolhardiness in his courage; he was well aware of all the possibledangers on the road; and whilst he is confident of the divineprotection, he knows that, in his own quiet, matter-of-fact words, itis given 'to all them that seek Him.' So his faith not onlyimpels him to the renunciation of the Babylonian guard, but to earnestsupplication for the defence in which he is so confident. He is sureit will be given—so sure, that he will have no other shield; and yethe fasts and prays that he and his company may receive it. He praysbecause he is sure that he will receive it, and does receive itbecause he prays and is sure.

So for us, the condition and preparation on and by which we aresheltered by that great Hand, is the faith that asks, and the askingof faith. We must forsake the earthly props, but we must alsobelievingly desire to be upheld by the heavenly arms. We make Godresponsible for our safety when we abandon other defence, and commitourselves to Him. With eyes open to our dangers, and fullconsciousness of our own unarmed and unwarlike weakness, let ussolemnly commend ourselves to Him, rolling all our burden on Hisstrong arms, knowing that He is able to keep that which we havecommitted to Him. He will accept the trust, and set His guards aboutus. As the song of the returning exiles, which may have been sung bythe river Ahava, has it: 'My help cometh from the Lord. The Lord isthy keeper. The Lord is thy shade upon thy right hand.'

So our story ends with the triumphant vindication of this Quixoticfaith. A flash of joyful feeling breaks through the simple narrative,as it tells how the words spoken before the king came true in theexperience of the weaponless pilgrims: 'The hand of our God wasupon us, and He delivered us from the hand of the enemy, and of suchas lay in wait by the way; and we came to Jerusalem.' It was no rashventure that we made. He was all that we hoped and asked. Through allthe weary march He led us. From the wild, desert-born robbers, thatwatched us from afar, ready to come down on us, from ambushes andhidden perils, He kept us, because we had none other help, and all ourhope was in Him. The ventures of faith are ever rewarded. We cannotset our expectations from God too high. What we dare scarcely hope nowwe shall one day remember. When we come to tell the completed story ofour lives, we shall have to record the fulfilment of all God'spromises, and the accomplishment of all our prayers that were built onthese. Here let us cry, 'Be Thy hand upon us.' Here let us trust, Thyhand will be upon us. Then we shall have to say, 'The hand of our Godwas upon us,' and as we look from the watch-towers of the city, on thedesert that stretches to its very walls, and remember all the way bywhich He led us, we shall rejoice over His vindication of our poorfaith, and praise Him that 'not one thing hath failed of all thethings which the Lord our God spake concerning us.'

THE CHARGE OF THE PILGRIM PRIESTS

'Watch ye, and keep them, until ye weigh them … at Jerusalem, in thechambers of the house of the Lord.'—EZRA viii. 29.

The little band of Jews, seventeen hundred in number, returning fromBabylon, had just started on that long pilgrimage, and made a briefhalt in order to get everything in order for their transit across thedesert; when their leader Ezra, taking count of his men, discoversthat amongst them there are none of the priests or Levites. He thentakes measures to reinforce his little army with a contingent ofthese, and entrusts to their special care a very valuable treasure ingold, and silver, and sacred vessels, which had been given to them foruse in the house of the Lord. The words which I have taken as text area portion of the charge which he gave to those twelve priestlyguardians of the precious things, that were to be used in worship whenthey got back to the Temple. 'Watch and keep them, until ye weigh themin the chambers of the house of the Lord.'

So I think I may venture, without being unduly fanciful, to take thesewords as a type of the injunctions which are given to us Christianpeople; and to see in them a striking and picturesque representationof the duties that devolve upon us in the course of our journey acrossthe desert to the Temple-Home above.

And to begin with, let me remind you, for a moment or two, what theprecious treasure is which is thus entrusted to our keeping and care.We can scarcely, in such a connection and with such a metaphor, forgetthe words of our Lord about a certain king that went to receive hiskingdom, and to return; who called together his servants, and gave toeach of them according to their several ability, with the injunctionto trade upon that until he came. The same metaphor which our Masteremployed lies in this story before us—in the one case, sacrificialvessels and sacred treasures; in the other case, the talents out ofthe rich possessions of the departing king.

Nor can we forget either the other phase of the same figure which theApostle employs when he says to his 'own son' and substitute, Timothy:'That good thing which was committed unto thee, keep by the Holy Ghostwhich dwelleth in us,' nor that other word to the same Timothy, whichsays: 'O Timothy! keep that which was committed to thy trust, andavoid profane and vain babblings, and oppositions of science, falselyso called.' In these quotations, the treasure, and the rich deposit,is the faith once delivered to the saints; the solemn message of loveand peace in Jesus Christ, which was entrusted, first of all to thosepreachers, but as truly to every one of Christ's disciples.

So, then, the metaphor is capable of two applications. The first is tothe rich treasure and solemn trust of our own nature, of our ownsouls; the faculties and capacities, precious beyond all count, richbeyond all else that a man has ever received. Nothing that you have ishalf so much as that which you are. The possession of a soul thatknows and loves, and can obey; that trusts and desires; that can yearnand reach out to Jesus Christ, and to God in Christ; of a consciencethat can yield to His command; and faculties of comprehending andunderstanding what comes to them from Jesus Christ—that is more thanany other possession, treasure, or trust. That which you and I carrywith us—the infinite possibilities of these awful spirits ofours—the tremendous faculties which are given to every human soul,and which, like a candle plunged into oxygen, are meant to burn farmore brightly under the stimulus of Christian faith and the possessionof God's truth, are the rich deposit committed to our charge. Youpriests of the living God, you men and women, you say that you areChrist's, and therefore are consecrated to a nobler priesthood thanany other—to you is given this solemn charge: 'That good thing whichis committed unto thee, keep by the Holy Ghost that dwelleth in you.'The precious treasure of your own natures, your own hearts, your ownunderstandings, wills, consciences, desires—keep these, until theyare weighed in the house of the Lord in Jerusalem.

And in like manner, taking the other aspect of the metaphor—we havegiven to us, in order that we may do something with it, that greatdeposit and treasure of truth, which is all embodied and incarnated inJesus Christ our Lord. It is bestowed upon us that we may use it forourselves, and in order that we may carry it triumphantly all throughthe world. Possession involves responsibility always. The word ofsalvation is given to us. If we go tampering with it, by erroneousapprehension, by unfair usage, by failing to apply it to our own dailylife; then it will fade and disappear from our grasp. It is given tous in order that we may keep it safe, and carry it high up across thedesert, as becomes the priests of the most high God.

The treasure is first—our own selves—with all that we are and maybe, under the stimulating and quickening influence of His grace andSpirit. The treasure is next—His great word of salvation, oncedelivered unto the saints, and to be handed on, without diminution oralteration in its fair perspective and manifold harmonies, to thegenerations that are to come. So, think of yourselves as the priestsof God, journeying through the wilderness, with the treasures of theTemple and the vessels of the sacrifice for your special deposit andcharge.

Further, I touch on the command, the guardianship that is here setforth. 'Watch ye, and keep them.' That is to say, I suppose, accordingto the ordinary idiom of the Old Testament, 'Watch, in order that youmay keep.' Or to translate it into other words: The treasure which isgiven into our hands requires, for its safe preservation, unceasingvigilance. Take the picture of my text: These Jews were four months,according to the narrative, in travelling from their first stationupon their journey to Jerusalem across the desert. There were enemieslying in wait for them by the way. With noble self-restraint and grandchivalry, the leader of the little band says: 'I was ashamed torequire of the king a band of soldiers and horsem*n, to help usagainst the enemy in the way; because we had spoken unto the king,saying, The hand of our God is upon all them for good that seek Him;but His power and His wrath is against all that forsake Him.' And sothey would not go to him, cap in hand, and ask him to give them aguard to take care of them; but 'We fasted and besought our God forthis; and He was intreated of us.'

Thus the little company, without arms, without protection, withnothing but a prayer and a trust to make them strong, flung themselvesinto the pathless desert with all those precious things in theirpossession; and all the precaution which Ezra took was to lay hold ofthe priests in the little party, and to say: 'Here! all through themarch do you stick by these precious things. Whoever sleeps, do youwatch. Whoever is careless, be you vigilant. Take these for yourcharge, and remember I weigh them here before we start, and they willbe all weighed again when we get there. So be alert.'

And is not that exactly what Christ says to us? 'Watch; keep them; bevigilant, that ye may keep; and keep them, because they will beweighed and registered when you arrive there.'

I cannot do more than touch upon two or three of the ways in whichthis charge may be worked out, in its application for ourselves,beginning with that first one which is implied in the words of thetext—unslumbering vigilance; then trust, like the trustwhich is glorified in the context, depending only on 'the good hand ofour God upon us'; then purity, because, as Ezra said, 'Ye areholy unto the Lord. The vessels are holy also'; and therefore ye arethe fit persons to guard them. And besides these, there is, in ourkeeping our trust, a method which does not apply to the incidentbefore us; namely, use, in order to their preservation.

That is to say, first of all, no slumber; not a moment's relaxation;or some of those who lie in wait for us on the way will be down uponus, and some of the precious things will go. While all the rest of thewearied camp slept, the guardians of the treasure had to outwatch thestars. While others might straggle on the march, lingering here orthere, or resting on some patch of green, they had to close up roundtheir precious charge; others might let their eyes wander from thepath, they had ever to look to their charge. For them the journey hada double burden, and unslumbering vigilance was their constant duty.

We likewise have unslumberingly and ceaselessly to watch over thatwhich is committed to our charge. For, depend upon it, if for aninstant we turn away our heads, the thievish birds that flutter overus will be down upon the precious seed that is in our basket, or thatwe have sown in the furrows, and it will be gone. Watch, that ye maykeep.

And then, still further, see how in this story before us there arebrought out very picturesquely, and very simply, deeper lessons still.It is not enough that a man shall be for ever keeping his eye upon hisown character and his own faculties, and seeking sedulously tocultivate and improve them, as he that must give an account. Theremust be another look than that. Ezra said, in effect, 'Not all thecohorts of Babylon can help us; and we do not want them. We have onestrong hand that will keep us safe'; and so he, and his men, with allthis mass of wealth, so tempting to the wild robbers that haunted theroad, flung themselves into the desert, knowing that all along itthere were, as he says, 'such as lay in wait for them.' His confidencewas: 'God will bring us all safe out to the end there; and we shallcarry every glittering piece of the precious things that we broughtout of Babylon right into the Temple of Jerusalem.' Yet he says,'Watch ye and keep them.'

What does that come to in reference to our religious experience? Whythis: 'Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; for it isGod that worketh in you, both to will and to do of His own goodpleasure.' You do not need these external helps. Fling yourself whollyupon His keeping hand, and also watch and keep yourselves. 'I know inwhom I have believed, and that He is able to keep that which I havecommitted unto Him against that day,' is the complement of the otherwords, 'That good thing which was committed unto thee, keep by theHoly Ghost.'

So guardianship is, first, unceasing vigilance; and then it is lowlytrust. And besides that, it is punctilious purity. 'I said untothem, Ye are holy unto the Lord; the vessels are holy unto the Lord.Watch ye, and keep them.'

It was fitting that priests should carry the things that belonged tothe Temple. No other hands but consecrated hands had a right to touchthem. To none other guardianship but the guardianship of thepossessors of a symbolic and ceremonial purity, could the vessels of asymbolic and ceremonial worship be entrusted; and to none others butthe possessors of real and spiritual holiness can the treasures of thetrue Temple, of an inward and spiritual worship, be entrusted. 'Be yeclean that bear the vessels of the Lord,' said Isaiah using a kindredmetaphor. The only way to keep our treasure undiminished anduntarnished, is to keep ourselves pure and clean.

And, lastly, we have to exercise a guardianship which not only meansunslumbering vigilance, lowly trust, punctilious purity, but alsorequires the constant use of the treasure.

'Watch ye, and keep them.' Although the vessels which those priestsbore through the desert were used for no service during all the wearymarch, they weighed just the same when they got to the end as at thebeginning; though, no doubt, even their fine gold had become dim andtarnished through disuse. But if we do not use the vessels that areentrusted to our care, they will not weigh the same. Theman that wrapped up his talent in the napkin, and said, 'Lo, therethou hast that is thine,' was too sanguine. There was never an unusedtalent rolled up in a handkerchief yet, but when it was taken out andput into the scales it was lighter than when it was committed to thekeeping of the earth. Gifts that are used fructify. Capacities thatare strained to the uttermost increase. Service strengthens the powerfor service; and just as the reward for work is more work, the way formaking ourselves fit for bigger things is to do the things that arelying by us. The blacksmith's arm, the sailor's eye, the organs of anypiece of handicraft, as we all know, are strengthened by exercise; andso it is in this higher region.

And so, dear brethren, take these four words—vigilance, trust,purity, exercise. 'Watch ye, and keep them, until they are weighed inthe chambers of the House of the Lord.'

And, lastly, think of that weighing in the House of the Lord. Cannotyou see the picture of the little band when they finally reach thegoal of their pilgrimage; and three days after they arrived, as thenarrative tells us, went up into the Temple, and there, by number andby weight, rendered up their charge, and were clear of theirresponsibility? 'And the first came and said, Lord, thy pound hathgained ten pounds. And he said, Well, thou good servant, because thouhast been faithful in a very little, have thou authority over tencities.'

Oh! how that thought of the day when they would empty out the richtreasure upon the marble pavement, and clash the golden vessels intothe scales, must have filled their hearts with vigilance during allthe weary watches, when desert stars looked down upon the slumberingencampment, and they paced wakeful all the night. And how the thought,too, must have filled their hearts with joy, when they tried topicture to themselves the sigh of satisfaction, and the sense ofrelief with which, after all the perils, their 'feet would standwithin thy gates, O Jerusalem,' and they would be able to say, 'Thatwhich thou hast given us, we have kept, and nothing of it is lost.'

A lifetime would be a small expenditure to secure that; and though itcannot be that you and I will meet the trial and the weighing of thatgreat day without many failures and much loss, yet we may say: 'I knowin whom I have believed, and that He is able to keep mydeposit—whether it be in the sense of that which I have committedunto Him, or in the sense of that which He has committed untome—against that day.' We may hope that, by His gracious help and Hispitying acceptance, even such careless stewards and negligent watchersas we are, may lay ourselves down in peace at the last, saying, 'Ihave kept the faith,' and may be awakened by the word, 'Well done!good and faithful servant.'

THE BOOK OF NEHEMIAH

A REFORMER'S SCHOOLING

'The words of Nehemiah the son of Hachaliah. And it came to pass inthe month Chislev, in the twentieth year, as I was in Shushan thepalace, 2. That Hanani, one of my brethren, came, he and certain menof Judah; and I asked them concerning the Jews that had escaped, whichwere left of the captivity, and concerning Jerusalem. 3. And they saidunto me, The remnant that are left of the captivity there in theprovince are in great affliction and reproach: the wall of Jerusalemalso is broken down, and the gates thereof are burned with fire. 4.And it came to pass, when I heard these words, that I sat down andwept, and mourned certain days, and fasted, and prayed before the Godof heaven, 5. And said, I beseech Thee, O Lord God of heaven, thegreat and terrible God, that keepeth covenant and mercy for them thatlove Him and observe His commandments: 6. Let Thine ear now beattentive, and Thine eyes open, that Thou mayest hear the prayer ofThy servant, which I pray before Thee now, day and night, for thechildren of Israel Thy servants, and confess the sins of the childrenof Israel, which we have sinned against Thee: both I and my father'shouse have sinned. 7. We have dealt very corruptly against Thee, andhave not kept the commandments, nor the statutes, nor the judgments,which Thou commandedst Thy servant Moses. 8. Remember, I beseech Thee,the word that Thou commandedst Thy servant Moses, saying, If yetransgress, I will scatter you abroad among the nations: 9. But if yeturn unto Me, and keep My commandments, and do them; though there wereof you cast out unto the uttermost part of the heaven, yet will Igather them from thence, and will bring them unto the place that Ihave chosen to set My name there. 10. Now these are Thy servants andThy people, whom Thou hast redeemed by Thy great power, and by Thystrong hand. 11. O Lord, I beseech Thee, let now Thine ear beattentive to the prayer of Thy servant, and to the prayer of Thyservants, who desire to fear Thy name: and prosper, I pray Thee, Thyservant this day, and grant him mercy in the sight of this man. For Iwas the king's cupbearer.'—NEH. i. 1-11.

The date of the completion of the Temple is 516 B.C.; that ofNehemiah's arrival 445 B.C. The colony of returned exiles seems tohave made little progress during that long period. Its members settleddown, and much of their enthusiasm cooled, as we see from the reformswhich Ezra had to inaugurate fourteen years before Nehemiah. Themajority of men, even if touched by spiritual fervour, find it hard tokeep on the high levels for long. Breathing is easier lower down. Asis often the case, a brighter flame of zeal burned in the bosoms ofsympathisers at a distance than in those of the actual workers, whosecontact with hard realities and petty details disenchanted them. Thusthe impulse to nobler action came, not from one of the colony, butfrom a Jew in the court of the Persian king.

This passage tells us how God prepared a man for a great work, and howthe man prepared himself.

I. Sad tidings and their effect on a devout servant of God (vs. 1-4).The time and place are precisely given. 'The month Chislev'corresponds to the end of November and beginning of December. 'Thetwentieth year' is that of Artaxerxes (Neh. ii. 1). 'Shushan,' orSusa, was the royal winter residence, and 'the palace' was 'a distinctquarter of the city, occupying an artificial eminence.' Note theabsence of the name of the king. Nehemiah is so familiar with hisgreatness that he takes for granted that every reader can fill thegaps. But, though the omission shows how large a space the courtoccupied in his thoughts, a true Jewish heart beat below thecourtier's robe. That flexibility which enabled them to stand astrusted servants of the kings of many lands, and yet that inflexibleadherence to, and undying love of, Israel, has always been a nationalcharacteristic. We can think of this youthful cup-bearer as yearningfor one glimpse of the 'mountains round about Jerusalem' while hefilled his post in Shushan.

His longings were kindled into resolve by intercourse with a littleparty of Jews from Judaea, among whom was his own brother. They hadbeen to see how things went there, and the fact that one of them was amember of Nehemiah's family seems to imply that the same sentimentsbelonged to the whole household. Eager questions brought out sorrowfulanswers. The condition of the 'remnant' was one of 'great afflictionand reproach,' and the ground of the reproach was probably (Neh. ii.17; iv. 2-4) the still ruined fortifications.

It has been supposed that the breaking down of the walls and burningof the gates, mentioned in verse 3, were recent, and subsequent to theevents recorded in Ezra; but it is more probable that the project forrebuilding the defences, which had been stopped by superior orders(Ezra iv. 12-16), had not been resumed, and that the melancholy ruinswere those which had met the eyes of Zerubbabel nearly a hundred yearsbefore. Communication between Shushan and Jerusalem cannot have beenso infrequent that the facts now borne in on Nehemiah might not havebeen known before. But the impression made by facts depends largely ontheir narrator, and not a little on the mood of the hearer. It was onething to hear general statements, and another to sit with one'sbrother, and see through his eyes the dismal failure of the 'remnant'to carry out the purpose of their return. So the story, whether freshor repeated with fresh force, made a deep dint in the youngcupbearer's heart, and changed his life's outlook. God prepares Hisservants for their work by laying on their souls a sorrowfulrealisation of the miseries which other men regard, and theythemselves have often regarded, very lightly. The men who have beenraised up to do great work for God and men, have always to begin bygreatly and sadly feeling the weight of the sins and sorrows whichthey are destined to remove. No man will do worthy work at rebuildingthe walls who has not wept over the ruins.

So Nehemiah prepared himself for his work by brooding over the tidingswith tears, by fasting and by prayer. There is no other way ofpreparation. Without the sad sense of men's sorrows, there will be noearnestness in alleviating them, nor self-sacrificing devotion; andwithout much prayer there will be little consciousness of weakness ordependence on divine help.

Note the grand and apparently immediate resolution to throw upbrilliant prospects and face a life of danger and suffering and toil.Nehemiah was evidently a favourite with the king, and had the ball athis foot. But the ruins on Zion were more attractive to him than thesplendours of Shushan, and he willingly flung away his chances of agreat career to take his share of 'affliction and reproach.' He hasnever had justice done him in popular estimation. He is not one of thewell-known biblical examples of heroic self-abandonment; but he didjust what Moses did, and the eulogium of the Epistle to the Hebrewsfits him as well as the lawgiver; for he too chose 'rather to sufferwith the people of God than to enjoy pleasures for a season.' So mustwe all, in our several ways, do, if we would have a share in buildingthe walls of the city of God.

II. The prayer (vs. 5-11). The course of thought in this prayer isvery instructive. It begins with solemnly laying before God His owngreat name, as the mightiest plea with Him, and the strongestencouragement to the suppliant. That commencement is no mere properinvocation, conventionally regarded as the right way of beginning, butit expresses the petitioner's effort to lay hold on God's character asthe ground of his hope of answer. The terms employed remarkably blendwhat Nehemiah had learned from Persian religion and what from a bettersource. He calls upon Jehovah, the great name which was the specialpossession of Israel. He also uses the characteristic Persiandesignation of 'the God of heaven,' and identifies the bearer of thatname, not with the god to whom it was originally applied, but withIsrael's Jehovah. He takes the crown from the head of the false deity,and lays it at the feet of the God of his fathers. Whatsoever namesfor the Supreme Excellence any tongues have coined, they all belong toour God, in so far as they are true and noble. The modern 'science ofcomparative religion' yields many treasures which should be laid up inJehovah's Temple.

But the rest of the designations are taken from the Old Testament, aswas fitting. The prayer throughout is full of allusions andquotations, and shows how this cupbearer of Artaxerxes had fed hisyoung soul on God's word, and drawn thence the true nourishment ofhigh and holy thoughts and strenuous resolutions and self-sacrificingdeeds. Prayers which are cast in the mould of God's own revelation ofHimself will not fail of answer. True prayer catches up the promisesthat flutter down to us, and flings them up again like arrows.

The prayer here is all built, then, on that name of Jehovah, and onwhat the name involves, chiefly on the thought of God as keepingcovenant and mercy. He has bound Himself in solemn, irrefragablecompact, to a certain line of action. Men 'know where to have Him,' ifwe may venture on the familiar expression. He has given us a chart ofHis course, and He will adhere to it. Therefore we can go to Him withour prayers, so long as we keep these within the ample space of Hiscovenant, and ourselves within its terms, by loving obedience.

The petition that God's ears might be sharpened and His eyes open tothe prayer is cast in a familiar mould. It boldly transfers to Him notonly the semblance of man's form, but also the likeness of Hisprocesses of action. Hearing the cry for help precedes activeintervention in the case of men's help, and the strong imagery of theprayer conceives of similar sequence in God. But the figure istransparent, and the 'anthropomorphism' so plain that no mistakes canarise in its interpretation.

Note, too, the light touch with which the suppliant's relation to God('Thy servant') and his long-continued cry ('day and night') are butjust brought in for a moment as pleas for a gracious hearing. Theprayer is 'for Thy servants the children of Israel,' in whichdesignation, as the next clauses show, the relation established byGod, and not the conduct of men, is pleaded as a reason for an answer.

The mention of that relation brings at once to Nehemiah's mind theterrible unfaithfulness to it which had marked, and still continued tomark, the whole nation. So lowly confession follows (vs. 6, 7).Unprofitable servants they had indeed been. The more loftily we thinkof our privileges, the more clearly should we discern our sins.Nothing leads a true heart to such self-ashamed penitence asreflection on God's mercy. If a man thinks that God has taken him fora servant, the thought should bow him with conscious unworthiness, notlift him in self-satisfaction. Nehemiah's confession not only sprungfrom the thought of Israel's vocation, so poorly fulfilled, but italso laid the groundwork for further petitions. It is useless to askGod to help us to repair the wastes if we do not cast out the sinswhich have made them. The beginning of all true healing of sorrow isconfession of sins. Many promising schemes for the alleviation ofnational and other distresses have come to nothing because, unlikeNehemiah's, they did not begin with prayer, or prayed for help withoutacknowledging sin.

And the man who is to do work for God and to get God to bless his workmust not be content with acknowledging other people's sins, but mustalways say, 'We have sinned,' and not seldom say, 'I have sinned.'That penitent consciousness of evil is indispensible to all who wouldmake their fellows happier. God works with bruised reeds. The sense ofindividual transgression gives wonderful tenderness, patience amidgainsaying, submission in failure, dependence on God in difficulty,and lowliness in success. Without it we shall do little for ourselvesor for anybody else.

The prayer next reminds God of His own words (vs. 8,9), freely quotedand combined from several passages (Lev. xxvi. 33-45; Deut. iv. 25-31,etc.). The application of these passages to the then condition ofthings is at first sight somewhat loose, since part of the people werealready restored; and the purport of the prayer is not the restorationof the remainder, but the deliverance of those already in the landfrom their distresses. Still, the promise gives encouragement to theprayer and is powerful with God, inasmuch as it could not be said tohave been fulfilled by so incomplete a restoration as that as that atpresent realised. What God does must be perfectly done; and His greatword is not exhausted so long as any fuller accomplishment of it canbe imagined.

The reminder of the promise is clinched (v. 10) by the same appeal asformerly to the relation to Himself into which God had been pleased tobring the nation, with an added reference to former deeds, such as theExodus, in which His strong hand had delivered them. We are alwayssure of an answer if we ask God not to contradict Himself. Since Hehas begun He will make an end. It will never be said of Him that He'began to build and was not able to finish.' His past is a mirror inwhich we can read His future. The return from Babylon is implied inthe Exodus.

A reiteration of earlier words follows, with the addition thatNehemiah now binds, as it were, his single prayer in a bundle withthose of the like-minded in Israel. He gathers single ears into asheaf, which he brings as a 'wave-offering.' And then, in one humblelittle sentence at the end, he puts his only personal request. Themodesty of the man is lovely. His prayer has been all for the people.Remarkably enough, there is no definite petition in it. He never oncesays right out what he so earnestly desires, and the absence ofspecific requests might be laid hold of by sceptical critics as anargument against the genuineness of the prayer. But it is rather asubtle trait, on which no forger would have been likely to hit.Sometimes silence is the very result of entire occupation of mind witha thought. He says nothing about the particular nature of his request,just because he is so full of it. But he does ask for favour in theeyes of 'this man,' and that he may be prospered 'this day.'

So this was his morning prayer on that eventful day, which was tosettle his life's work. The certain days of solitary meditation on hisnation's griefs had led to a resolution. He says nothing about hislong brooding, his slow decision, his conflicts with lower projects ofpersonal ambition. He 'burns his own smoke,' as we all should learn todo. But he asks that the capricious and potent will of the king may beinclined to grant his request. If our morning supplication is 'ProsperThy servant this day,' and our purposes are for God's glory, we neednot fear facing anybody. However powerful Artaxerxes was, he was but'this man,' not God. The phrase does not indicate contempt orundervaluing of the solid reality of his absolute power over Nehemiah,but simply expresses the conviction that the king, too, was a subjectof God's, and that his heart was in the hand of Jehovah, to mould asHe would. The consciousness of dependence on God and the habit ofcommunion with Him give a man a clear sight of the limitations ofearthly dignities, and a modest boldness which is equally remote fromrudeness and servility.

Thus prepared for whatever might be the issue of that eventful day,the young cupbearer rose from his knees, drew a long breath, and wentto his work. Well for us if we go to ours, whether it be a day ofcrisis or of commonplace, in like fashion! Then we shall have likedefence and like calmness of heart.

THE CHURCH AND SOCIAL EVILS

'It came to pass, when I heard these words, that I sat down and wept,and mourned certain days, and fasted, and prayed before the God ofheaven.'—NEH. i. 4.

Ninety years had passed since the returning exiles had arrived atJerusalem. They had encountered many difficulties which had marredtheir progress and cooled their enthusiasm. The Temple, indeed, wasrebuilt, but Jerusalem lay in ruins, and its walls remained as theyhad been left, by Nebuchadnezzar's siege, some century and a halfbefore. A little party of pious pilgrims had gone from Persia to thecity, and had come back to Shushan with a sad story of weakness anddespondency, affliction and hostility. One of the travellers had abrother, a youth named Nehemiah, who was a cup-bearer in the court ofthe Persian king. Living in a palace, and surrounded with luxury, hisheart was with his brethren; and the ruins of Jerusalem were dearer tohim than the pomp of Shushan.

My text tells how the young cupbearer was affected by the tidings, andhow he wept and prayed before God. The accurate dates given in thisbook show that this period of brooding contemplation of the miseriesof his brethren lasted for four months. Then he took a greatresolution, flung up brilliant prospects, identified himself with theafflicted colony, and asked for leave to go and share, and, if itmight be, to redress, the sorrows which had made so deep a dint uponhis heart.

Now, I think that this vivid description, drawn by himself, of theemotions excited in Nehemiah by his countrymen's sorrows, whichinfluenced his whole future, contains some very plain lessons forChristian people, the observance of which is every day becoming moreimperative by reason of the drift of public opinion, and the newprominence which is being given to so-called 'social questions.' Iwish to gather up one or two of these lessons for you now.

I. First, then, note the plain Christian duty of sympatheticcontemplation of surrounding sorrows. Nehemiah might have made a greatmany very good excuses for treating lightly the tidings that hisbrother had brought him. He might have said: 'Jerusalem is a long wayoff. I have my own work to do; it is no part of my business to rebuildthe walls of Jerusalem. I am the King's cupbearer. They went withtheir eyes open, and experience has shown that the people who knewwhen they were well off, and stayed where they were, were a great dealwiser.' These were not his excuses. He let the tidings fill his heart,and burn there.

Now, the first condition of sympathy is knowledge; and the second isattending to what we do know. Nehemiah had probably known, in a kindof vague way, for many a day how things were going in Palestine.Communications between it and Persia were not so difficult but thatthere would come plenty of Government despatches; and a man atheadquarters who had the ear of the monarch, was not likely to beignorant of what was going on in that part of his dominions. But thereis all the difference between hearing vague general reports, andsitting and hearing your own brother tell you what he had seen withhis own eyes. So the impression which had existed before was allinoperative until it was kindled by attention to the facts which allthe time had been, in some degree, known.

Now, how many of us are there that know—and don't know—what is goingon round about us in the slums and back courts of this city? How manyof us are there who are habitually ignorant of what we actually know,because we never, as we say, 'give heed' to it. 'I did not think ofthat,' is a very poor excuse about matters concerning which there isknowledge, whether there is thought or not. And so I want to pressupon all you Christian people the plain duty of knowing what you doknow, and of giving an ample place in your thoughts to the starkstaring facts around us.

Why! loads of people at present seem to think that the miseries, andhideous vices, and sodden immorality, and utter heathenism, which arefound down amongst the foundations of every civic community are asindispensable to progress as the noise of the wheels of a train is toits advancement, or as the bilge-water in a wooden ship is to keep itsseams tight. So we prate about 'civilisation,' which means turning meninto cities. If agglomerating people into these great communities,which makes so awful a feature of modern life, be necessarily attendedby such abominations as we live amongst and never think about, then,better that there had never been civilisation in such a sense at all.Every consideration of communion with and conformity to Jesus Christ,of loyalty to His words, of a true sense of brotherhood and of lowerthings—such as self-interest—every consideration demands thatChristian people shall take to their hearts, in a fashion that thechurches have never done yet, 'the condition of England question,' andshall ask, 'Lord! what wouldst Thou have me to do?'

I do not care to enter upon controversy raised by recent utterances,the motive of which may be worthy of admiration, though the expressioncannot be acquitted of the charge of exaggeration, to the effect thatthe Christian churches as a whole have been careless of the conditionof the people. It is not true in its absolute sense. I suppose that,taking the country over, the majority of the members of, at all eventsthe Nonconformist churches and congregations, are in receipt of weeklywages or belong to the upper ranks of the working-classes, and thatthe lever which has lifted them to these upper ranks has been God'sGospel. I suppose it will be admitted that the past indifference withwhich we are charged belonged to the whole community, and that the newsense of responsibility which has marked, and blessedly marked, recentyears, is largely owing to political and other causes which havelately come into operation. I suppose it will not be denied that, to avery large extent, any efforts which have been made in the past forthe social, intellectual, and moral, and religious elevation of thepeople have had their impulse, and to a large extent their support,both pecuniary and active, from Christian churches and individuals.All that is perfectly true and, I believe, undeniable. But it is alsotrue that there remains an enormous, shameful, dead mass of inertnessin our churches, and that, unless we can break up that, the omens arebad, bad for society, worse for the church. If cholera is raging inthe slums, the suburbs will not escape. If the hovels are infected,the mansions will have to pay their tribute to the disease. If we donot recognise the brotherhood of the suffering and the sinful, in anyother fashion—'Then,' as a great teacher told us a generation agonow, and nobody paid any attention to him, 'then they will begin andshow you that they are your brethren by killing some of you.' And soself-preservation conjoins with loftier motives to make thissympathetic observation of the surrounding sorrows the plainest ofChristian duties.

II. Secondly, such a realisation of the dark facts is indispensable toall true work for alleviating them.

There is no way of helping men out by bearing what they bear. No manwill ever lighten a sorrow of which he has not himself felt thepressure. Jesus Christ's Cross, to which we are ever appealing as theground of our redemption and the anchor of our hope, is these, thankGod! But it is more than these. It is the pattern for our lives, andit lays down, with stringent accuracy and completeness, the enduringconditions of helping the sinful and the sorrowful. The 'saviours ofsociety' have still, in lower fashion, to be crucified. Jesus Christwould never have been 'the Lamb of God that bore away the sins of theworld' unless He Himself had 'taken our infirmities and borne oursicknesses.' No work of any real use will be done except by thosewhose hearts have bled with the feeling of the miseries which they setthemselves to cure.

Oh! we all want a far fuller realisation of that sympathetic spirit ofthe pitying Christ, if we are ever to be of any use in the world, orto help the miseries of any of our brethren. Such a sorrowful andparticipating contemplation of men's sorrows springing from men's sinswill give tenderness to our words, will give patience, will soften ourwhole bearing. Help that is flung to people, as you might fling a boneto a dog, hurts those whom it tries to help, and patronising help ishelp that does little good, and lecturing help does little more. Youmust take blind beggars by the hand if you are going to make them see;and you must not be afraid to lay your white, clean fingers upon thefeculent masses of corruption in the leper's glistening whiteness ifyou are going to make him whole. Go down in order to lift, andremember that without sympathy there is no sufficient help, andwithout communion with Christ there is no sufficient sympathy.

III. Thirdly, such realisation of surrounding sorrows should drive tocommunion with God.

Nehemiah wept and mourned, and that was well. But between his weepingand mourning and his practical work there had to be still another linkof connection. 'He wept and mourned,' and because he was sad he turnedto God, 'and I fasted and prayed certain days.' There he got at oncecomfort for his sorrows, his sympathies, and deepening of hissympathies, and thence he drew inspiration that made him a hero and amartyr. So all true service for the world must begin with closecommunion with God.

There was a book published several years since which made a greatnoise in its little day, and called itself The Service of Man,which service it proposed to substitute for the effete conception ofworship as the service of God. The service of man is, then, best donewhen it is the service of God. I suppose nowadays it is'old-fashioned' and 'narrow,' which is the sin of sins at present, butI for my part have very little faith in the persistence and wideoperation of any philanthropic motives except the highest—namely,compassion caught from Jesus Christ. I do not believe that you willget men, year in and year out, to devote themselves in anyconsiderable numbers to the service of man unless you appeal to thishighest of motives. You may enlist a little corps—and God forbid thatI should deny such a plain fact—of selecter spirits to do purelysecular alleviative work, with an entire ignoring of Christianmotives, but you will never get the army of workers that is needed tograpple with the facts of our present condition, unless you touch thevery deepest springs of conduct, and these are to be found incommunion with God. All the rest is surface drainage. Get down to thelove of God, and the love of men therefrom, and you have got anArtesian well which will bubble up unfailingly.

And I have not much faith in remedies which ignore religion, and arebrought, without communion with God, as sufficient for the disease. Ido not want to say one word that might seem to depreciate what aregood and valid and noble efforts in their several spheres. There is noneed for antagonism—rather, Christian men are bound by everyconsideration to help to the utmost of their power, even in theincomplete attempts that are made to grapple with social problems.There is room enough for us all. But sure I am that until grapes andwaterbeds cure smallpox, and a spoonful of cold water puts outVesuvius, you will not cure the evils of the body politic by anylesser means than the application of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

We hear a great deal to-day about a 'social gospel,' and I am glad ofthe conception, and of the favour which it receives. Only let usremember that the Gospel is social second, and individualfirst. And that if you get the love of God and obedience toJesus Christ into a man's heart it will be like putting gas into aballoon, it will go up, and the man will get out of the slums fastenough; and he will not be a slave to the vices of the world muchlonger, and you will have done more for him and for the wide circlethat he may influence than by any other means. I do not want todepreciate any helpers, but I say it is the work of the Christianchurch to carry to the world the only thing that will make men deeplyand abidingly happy, because it will make them good.

IV. And so, lastly, such sympathy should be the parent of a noble,self-sacrificing life. Look at the man in our text. He had the ball athis feet. He had the entree of a court, and the ear of a king.Brilliant prospects were opening before him, but his brethren'ssufferings drew him, and with a noble resolution of self-sacrifice, heshut himself out from the former and went into the wilderness. He isone of the Scripture characters that never have had due honour—ahero, a saint, a martyr, a reformer. He did, though in a smallersphere, the very same thing that the writer of the Epistle to theHebrews magnified with his splendid eloquence, in reference to thegreat Lawgiver, 'And chose rather to suffer affliction with the peopleof God,' and to turn his back upon the dazzlements of a court, than to'enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season,' whilst his brethren weresuffering.

Now, dear friends! the letter of the example may be put aside; thespirit of it must be observed. If Christians are to do the work thatthey can do, and that Christ has put them into this world that theymay do, there must be self-sacrifice with it. There is no shirkingthat obligation, and there is no discharging our duty without it. Youand I, in our several ways, are as much under the sway of thatabsolute law, that 'if a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die,it brings forth fruit,' as ever was Jesus Christ or His Apostles. Ihave nothing to say about the manner of the sacrifice. It is no partof my business to prescribe to you details of duty. It is my businessto insist on the principles which must regulate these, and of theseprinciples in application to Christian service there is none morestringent than—'I will not offer unto my God burnt-offering of thatwhich doth cost me nothing.'

I am sure that, under God, the great remedy for social evils liesmainly here, that the bulk of professing Christians shall recogniseand discharge their responsibilities. It is not ministers, citymissionaries, Bible-women, or any other paid people that can do thework. It is by Christian men and by Christian women, and, if I mightuse a very vulgar distinction which has a meaning in the presentconnection, very specially by Christian ladies, taking their part inthe work amongst the degraded and the outcasts, that our sorestdifficulties and problems will be solved. If a church does not facethese, well, all I can say is, its light will go out; and the soonerthe better. 'If thou forbear to deliver them that are appointed todeath, and say, Behold! I knew it not, shall not He that weigheth thehearts consider it, and shall He not render to every man according tohis work?' And, on the other hand, there are no blessings more rich,select, sweet, and abiding, than are to be found in sharing the sorrowof the Man of Sorrows, and carrying the message of His pity and Hisredemption to an outcast world. 'If thou draw out thy soul to thehungry, and satisfy the afflicted soul, the Lord shall satisfy thysoul; and thou shalt be as a watered garden, and as a spring of waterwhose waters fail not.'

'OVER AGAINST HIS HOUSE'

'The priests repaired every one over against his house.'—NEH. iii.28.

The condition of our great cities has lately been forced upon publicattention, and all kinds of men have been offering their panaceas. Iam not about to enter upon that discussion, but I am glad to seize theopportunity of saying one or two things which I think very much needto be said to individual Christian people about their duty in thematter. 'Every man over against his house' is the principle I desireto commend to you as going a long way to solve the problem of how tosweeten the foul life of our modern cities.

The story from which my text is taken does not need to detain us long.Nehemiah and his little band of exiles have come back to a ruinedJerusalem. Their first care is to provide for their safety, and thefirst step is to know the exact extent of their defencelessness. So wehave the account of Nehemiah's midnight ride amongst the ruins of thebroken walls. And then we read of the co-operation of all classes inthe work of reconstruction. 'Many hands made light work.' Men andwomen, priests and nobles, goldsmiths, apothecaries, merchants, allseized trowel or spade, and wheeled and piled. One man puts up a longlength of wall, another can only manage a little bit; anotherundertakes the locks, bolts, and bars for the gates. Roughly andhastily the work is done. The result, of course, is very unlike thestately structures of Solomon's or of Herod's time, but it is enoughfor shelter. We can imagine the sigh of relief with which the workerslooked upon the completed circle of their rude fortifications.

The principle of division of labour in our text is repeated severaltimes in this list of the builders. It was a natural one; a man wouldwork all the better when he saw his own roof mutely appealing to bedefended, and thought of the dear ones that were there. But I takethese words mainly as suggesting some thoughts applicable to theduties of Christian people in view of the spiritual wants of our greatcities.

I. I need not do more than say a word or two about the ruins whichneed repair. If I dwell rather upon the dark side than on the brightside of city life I shall not be understood, as forgetting that thevery causes which intensify the evil of a great city quicken thegood—the friction of multitudes and the impetus thereby given to allkinds of mental activity. Here amongst us there is much that isadmirable and noble—much public spirit, much wise and benevolentexpenditure of thought and toil for the general good, much conjointaction by men of different parties, earnest antagonism and earnestco-operation, and a free, bracing intellectual atmosphere, whichstimulates activity. All that is true, though, on the other hand, itis not good to live always within hearing of the clatter of machineryand the strife of tongues; and the wisdom that is born of solitarymeditation and quiet thought is less frequently met with in citiesthan is the cleverness that is born of intercourse with men, andnewspaper reading.

But there is a tragic other side to all that, which mostly we make upour minds to say little about and to forget. The indifference whichhas made that ignorance possible, and has in its turn been fed by theignorance, is in some respects a more shocking phenomenon than thevicious life which it has allowed to rot and to reek unheeded.

Most of us have got so familiarised with the evils that stare us inthe face every time we go out upon the pavements, that we have come tothink of them as being inseparable from our modern life, like thenoise of a carriage wheel from its rotation. And is it so then? Is itindeed inevitable that within a stone's throw of our churches andchapels there should be thousands of men and women that have neverbeen inside a place of worship since they were christened; and have nomore religion than a horse? Must it be that the shining structure ofour modern society, like an old Mexican temple, must be built upon alayer of living men, flung in for a foundation? Can it not be helpedthat there should be streets in our cities into which it is unfit fora decent woman to go by day alone, and unsafe for a brave man toventure after nightfall? Must men and women huddle together in denswhere decency is as impossible as it is for swine in a sty? Is it anindispensable part of our material progress and wonderful civilisationthat vice and crime and utter irreligion and hopeless squalor shouldgo with it? Can all that bilge water really not be pumped out of theship? If it be so, then I venture to say that, to a very large extent,progress is a delusion, and that the simple life of agriculturalcommunities is better than this unwholesome aggregation of men.

The beginning of Nehemiah's work of repair was that sad midnight rideround the ruined walls. So there is a solemn obligation laid onChristian people to acquaint themselves with the awful facts, and thento meditate on them, till sacred, Christ-like compassion, pressingagainst the flood-gates of the heart, flings them open, and lets out astream of helpful pity and saving deeds.

II. So much for my first point. My second is—the ruin is to berepaired mainly by the old Gospel of Jesus Christ. Far be it from meto pit remedies against each other. The causes are complicated, andthe cure must be as manifold as the causes. For my own part I believethat, in regard to the condition of the lowest of our outcastpopulation, drink and lust have done it almost all, and that for allbut an infinitesimal portion of it, intemperance is directly orindirectly the cause. That has to be fought by the distinct preachingof abstinence, and by the invoking of legislative restrictions uponthe traffic. Wretched homes have to be dealt with by sanitary reform,which may require municipal and parliamentary action. Domesticdiscomfort has to be dealt with by teaching wives the principles ofdomestic economy. The gracious influence of art and music, picturesand window-gardening, and the like, will lend their aid to soften andrefine. Coffee taverns, baths and wash-houses, workmen's clubs, andmany other agencies are doing real and good work. I for one say, 'Godspeed to them all,' and willingly help them so far as I can.

But, as a Christian man, I believe that I know a thing that if lodgedin a man's heart will do pretty nearly all which they aspire to do;and whilst I rejoice in the multiplied agencies for social elevation,I believe that I shall best serve my generation, and I believe thatninety-nine out of a hundred of you will do so too, by trying to getmen to love and fear Jesus Christ the Saviour. If you can get His loveinto a man's heart, that will produce new tastes and new inclinations,which will reform, and sweeten, and purify faster than anything elsedoes.

They tell us that Nonconformist ministers are never seen in the slums;well, that is a libel! But I should like to ask why it is that theRoman Catholic priest is seen there more than the Nonconformistminister? Because the one man's congregation is there, and the otherman's is not—which, being translated into other words, is this: thereligion of Jesus Christ mostly keeps people out of the slums, andcertainly it will take a man out of them if once it gets into hisheart, more certainly and quickly than anything else will.

So, dear friends! if we have in our hearts and in our hands this greatmessage of God's love, we have in our possession the germ out of whichall things that are lovely and of good report will grow. It willpurify, elevate, and sweeten society, because it will make individualspure and strong, and homes holy and happy. We do not need to drawcomparisons between this and other means of reparation, and still lessto feel any antagonism to them or the benevolent men who work them;but we should fix it in our minds that the principles of Christ'sGospel adhered to by individuals, and therefore by communities, wouldhave rendered such a condition of things impossible, and that the truerepair of the ruin wrought by evil and ignorance, in the single soul,in the family, the city, the nation, the world, is to be found inbuilding anew on the One Foundation which God has laid, even JesusChrist, the Living Stone, whose pure life passes into all that aregrounded and founded on Him.

III. Lastly, this remedy is to be applied by the individual action of
Christian men and women on the people nearest them.

'The priests repaired every one over against his house.' We are alwaystempted, in the face of large disasters, to look for heroic and largeremedies, and to invoke corporate action of some sort, which is agreat deal easier for most of us than the personal effort that isrequired. When a great scandal and danger like this of the conditionof the lower layers of our civic population is presented before men,for one man that says, 'What can I do?' there are twenty whosay, 'Somebody should do something. Government should do something.The Corporation should do something. This, that, or the otheraggregate of men should do something.' And the individual calmly andcomfortably slips his neck out of the collar and leaves it on theshoulders of these abstractions.

As I have said, there are plenty of things that need to be done bythese somebodies. But what they do (they will be a long time in doingit), when they do get to work will only touch the fringe of thequestion, and the substance and the centre of it you can set to workupon this very day if you like, and not wait for anybody either to setyou the example or to show you the way.

If you want to do people good you can; but you must pay the price forit. That price is personal sacrifice and effort. The example of JesusChrist is the all-instructive one in the case. People talk about Himbeing their Pattern, but they often forget that whatever more therewas in Christ's Cross and Passion there was this in it:—theexemplification for all time of the one law by which any reformationcan be wrought on men—that a sympathising man shall give himself todo it, and that by personal influence alone men will be drawn and wonfrom out of the darkness and filth. A loving heart and a sympatheticword, the exhibition of a Christian life and conduct, the fact ofgoing down into the midst of evil and trying to lift men out of it,are the old-fashioned and only magnets by which men are drawn to purerand higher life. That is God's way of saving the world—by the actionof single souls on single souls. Masses of men can neither save nor besaved. Not in groups, but one by one, particle by particle, soul bysoul, Christ draws men to Himself, and He does His work in the worldthrough single souls on fire with His love, and tender with pitylearned of Him.

So, dear friends! do not think that any organisation, any corporateactivity, any substitution of vicarious service, will solve theproblem. It will not. There is only one way of doing it, the old waythat we must tread if we are going to do anything for God and ourfellows: 'The priests repaired every one over against his house.'

Let me briefly point out some very plain and obvious things which bearupon this matter of individual action. Let me remind you that if youare a Christian man you have in your possession the thing which willcure the world's woe, and possession involves responsibility. Whatwould you think of a man that had a specific for some pestilence thatwas raging in a city, and was contented to keep it for his own use, orat most for his family's use, when his brethren were dying by thethousand, and their corpses polluting the air? And what shall we sayof men and women who call themselves Christians, who have some faithin that great Lord and His mighty sacrifice; who know that the menthey meet with every day of their lives are dying for want of it, andwho yet themselves do absolutely nothing to spread His name, and toheal men's hurts? What shall we say? God forbid that we should saythey are not Christians! but God forbid that anybody should flatterthem with the notion that they are anything but most inconsistentChristians!

Still further, need I remind you that if we have found anything inJesus Christ which has been peace and rest for ourselves, Christ hasthereby called us to this work? He has found and saved us, not onlyfor our own personal good. That, of course, is the prime purpose ofour salvation, but not its exclusive purpose. He has saved us, too, inorder that the Word may be spread through us to those beyond. 'TheKingdom of Heaven is like leaven, which a woman took and hid in threemeasures of meal until the whole was leavened,' and every little bitof the dough, as it received into itself the leaven, and wastransformed, became a medium for transmitting the transformation tothe next particle beyond it and so the whole was at last permeated bythe power. We get the grace for ourselves that we may pass it on; andas the Apostle says: 'God hath shined into our hearts that we mightgive the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face ofJesus Christ.'

And you can do it, you Christian men and women, every one of you, andpreach Him to somebody. The possession of His love gives thecommission; ay! and it gives the power. There is nothing so mighty asthe confession of personal experience. Do not you think that when thatfirst of Christian converts, and first of Christian preachers went tohis brother, all full of what he had discovered, his simple saying,'We have found the Messias,' was a better sermon than a far moreelaborate proclamation would have been? My brother! if you have foundHim, you can say so; and if you can say so, and your character andyour life confirm the words of your lips, you will have done more tospread His name than much eloquence and many an orator. All can preachwho can say, 'We have found the Christ.'

The last word I have to say is this: there is no other body that cando it but you. They say:—'What an awful thing it is that there are nochurches or chapels in these outcast districts!' If there were theywould be what the churches and chapels are now—half empty. Bricks andmortar built up into ecclesiastical forms are not the way toevangelise this or any other country. It is a very easy thing to buildchurches and chapels. It is not such an easy thing—I believe it is animpossible thing (and that the sooner the Christian church gives upthe attempt the better)—to get the godless classes into any church orchapel. Conducted on the principles upon which churches and chapelsmust needs at present be conducted, they are for another classaltogether; and we had better recognise it, because then we shall feelthat no multiplication of buildings like this in which we now are, forinstance, is any direct contribution to the evangelisation of thewaste spots of the country, except in so far as from a centre likethis there ought to go out much influence which will originate directmissionary action in places and fashions adapted to the outlyingcommunity.

Professional work is not what we want. Any man, be he minister,clergyman, Bible-reader, city missionary, who goes among our godlesspopulation with the suspicion of pay about him is the weaker for that.What is needed besides is that ladies and gentlemen that are a littlehigher up in the social scale than these poor creatures, should go tothem themselves; and excavate and work. Preach, if you like, in thetechnical sense; have meetings, I suppose, necessarily; but thepersonal contact is the thing, the familiar talk, the simpleexhibition of a loving Christian heart, and the unconventionalproclamation in free conversation of the broad message of the love ofGod in Jesus Christ. Why, if all the people in this chapel who can dothat would do it, and keep on doing it, who can tell what an influencewould come from some hundreds of new workers for Christ? And whyshould the existence of a church in which the workers are as numerousas the Christians be an Utopian dream? It is simply the dream thatperhaps a church might be conceived to exist, all the members of whichhad found out their plainest, most imperative duty, and were reallytrying to do it.

No carelessness, no indolence, no plea of timidity or business shiftthe obligation from your shoulders if you are a Christian. It is yourbusiness, and no paid agents can represent you. You cannot buyyourselves substitutes in Christ's army, as they used to do in themilitia, by a guinea subscription. We are thankful for the money,because there are kinds of work to be done that unpaid effort will notdo. But men ask for your money; Jesus Christ asks for yourself, foryour work, and will not let you off as having done your duty becauseyou have paid your subscription. No doubt there are some of you who,from various circ*mstances, cannot yourselves do work amongst themasses of the outcast population. Well, but you have got people byyour side whom you can help. The question which I wish to ask of myChristian brethren and sisters now is this: Is there a man, woman, orchild living to whom you ever spoke a word about Jesus Christ? Isthere? If not, do not you think it is time that you began?

There are people in your houses, people that sit by you in yourcounting-house, on your college benches, who work by your side in millor factory or warehouse, who cross your path in a hundred ways, andGod has given them to you that you may bring them to Him. Do you setyourself, dear brother, to work and try to bring them. Oh! if youlived nearer Jesus Christ you would catch the sacred fire from Him;and like a bit of cold iron lying beside a magnet, touching Him, youwould yourselves become magnetic and draw men out of their evil and upto God.

Let me commend to you the old pattern: 'The priests repaired every oneover against his house'; and beseech you to take the trowel and spade,or anything that comes handiest, and build, in the bit nearest you,some living stones on the true Foundation.

DISCOURAGEMENTS AND COURAGE

'Nevertheless we made our prayer unto our God, and set a watch againstthem day and night, because of them. 10. And Judah said, The strengthof the bearers of burdens is decayed, and there is much rubbish; sothat we are not able to build the wall. 11. And our adversaries said,They shall not know, neither see, till we come in the midst amongthem, and slay them, and cause the work to cease. 12. And it came topass, that when the Jews which dwelt by them came, they said unto usten times, From all places whence ye shall return unto us they will beupon you. 13. Therefore set I in the lower places behind the wall, andon the higher places, I even set the people after their families withtheir swords, their spears, and their bows. 14. And I looked and roseup, and said unto the nobles, and to the rulers, and to the rest ofthe people, Be not ye afraid of them: remember the Lord, which isgreat and terrible, and fight for your brethren, your sons, and yourdaughters, your wives, and your houses. 15. And it came to pass, whenour enemies heard that it was known unto us, and God had brought theircounsel to nought, that we returned all of us to the wall, every oneunto his work. 16. And it came to pass from that time forth, that thehalf of my servants wrought in the work, and the other half of themheld both the spears, the shields, and the bows, and the habergeons;and the rulers were behind all the house of Judah. 17. They whichbuilded on the wall, and they that bare burdens, with those thatladed, every one with one of his hands wrought in the work, and withthe other hand held a weapon. 18. For the builders, every one had hissword girded by his side, and so builded. And he that sounded thetrumpet was by me. 19. And I said unto the nobles, and to the rulers,and to the rest of the people, The work is great and large, and we areseparated upon the wall, one far from another. 20. In what placetherefore ye hear the sound of the trumpet, resort ye thither unto us:our God shall fight for us. 21. So we laboured in the work: and halfof them held the spears from the rising of the morning till the starsappeared.'—Neh. iv. 9-21.

Common hatred has a wonderful power of uniting former foes.Samaritans, wild Arabs of the desert, Ammonites, and inhabitants ofAshdod in the Philistine plain would have been brought together for nonoble work, but mischief and malice fused them for a time into one.God's work is attacked from all sides. Herod and Pilate can shakehands over their joint antagonism.

This passage paints vividly the discouragements which are apt to dogall good work, and the courage which refuses to be discouraged, andconquers by bold persistence. The first verse (v. 9) may stand as asummary of the whole, though it refers to the preceding, not to thefollowing, verses. The true way to meet opposition is twofold—prayerand prudent watchfulness. 'Pray to God, and keep your powder dry,' isnot a bad compendium of the duty of a Christian soldier. The union ofappeal to God with the full use of common sense, watchfulness, andprudence, would dissipate many hindrances to successful service.

I. In verses 10-12 Nehemiah tells, in his simple way, of thedifficulties from three several quarters which threatened to stop hiswork. He had trouble from the workmen, from the enemies, and from themass of Jews not resident in Jerusalem. The enthusiasm of the buildershad cooled, and the magnitude of their task began to frighten them.Verse 6 tells us that the wall was completed 'unto the half of it';that is, to one-half the height, and half-way through is just thecritical time in all protracted work. The fervour of beginning haspassed; the animation from seeing the end at hand has not sprung up.There is a dreary stretch in the centre, where it takes much faith andself-command to plod on unfainting. Half-way to Australia from Englandis the region of sickening calms. It is easier to work in the freshmorning or in the cool evening than at midday. So in every greatmovement there are short-winded people who sit down and pant verysoon, and their prudence croaks out undeniable facts. No doubtstrength does become exhausted; no doubt there is 'much rubbish'(literally 'dust'). What then? The conclusion drawn is not sounquestionable as the premises. 'We cannot build the wall' Why not?Have you not built half of it? And was not the first half moreembarrassed by rubbish than the second will be?

It is a great piece of Christian duty to recognise difficulties, andnot be cowed by them. The true inference from the facts would havebeen, 'so that we must put all our strength into the work, and trustin our God to help us.' We may not be responsible for discouragementssuggesting themselves, but we are responsible for letting them becomedissuasives. Our one question should be, Has God appointed the work?If so, it has to be done, however little our strength, and howevermountainous the accumulations of rubbish.

The second part in the trio was taken by the enemies—Sanballat andTobiah and the rest. They laid their plans for a sudden swoop down onJerusalem, and calculated that, if they could surprise the builders attheir work, they would have no weapons to show fight with, and sowould be easily despatched. Killing the builders was but a means; thedesired end is significantly put last (v. 11), as being the stoppingof the abhorred work. But killing the workmen does not cause the workto cease when it is God's work, as the history of the Church in allages shows. Conspirators should hold their tongues. It was not ahopeful way of beginning an attack, of which the essence was secrecyand suddenness, to talk about it. 'A bird of the air carries thematter.'

The third voice is that of the Jews in other parts of the land, andespecially those living on the borders of Samaria, next door toSanballat. Verse 12 is probably best taken as in the Revised Version,which makes 'Ye must return to us' the imperative and often-repeatedsummons from these to the contingents from their respective places ofabode, who had gone up to Jerusalem to help in building. Alarms ofinvasion made the scattered villagers wish to have all their mencapable of bearing arms back again to defend their own homes. It was amost natural demand, but in this case, as so often, audacity is truestprudence; and in all high causes there come times when men have totrust their homes and dear ones to God's protection. The necessity isheartrending, and we may well pray that we may not be exposed to it;but if it clearly arises, a devout man can have no doubt of his duty.How many American citizens had to face it in the great Civil War! Andhow character is ennobled by even so severe a sacrifice!

II. The calm heroism of Nehemiah and his wise action in the emergencyare told in verses 13-15. He made a demonstration in force, which atonce showed that the scheme of a surprise was blown to pieces. It isdifficult to make out the exact localities in which he planted hismen. 'The lower places behind the wall' probably means the points atwhich the new fortifications were lowest, which would be the mostexposed to assault; and the 'higher places' (Auth. Ver.), or 'openplaces' (Rev. Ver.), describes the same places from another point ofview. They afforded room for posting troops because they were withoutbuildings. At any rate, the walls were manned, and the enemy wouldhave to deal, not with unarmed labourers, but with prepared soldiers.The work was stopped, and trowel and spade exchanged for sword andspear. 'And I looked,' says Nehemiah. His careful eye travelled overthe lines, and, seeing all in order, he cheered the little army withringing words. He had prayed (Neh. i. 5) to 'the great and terribleGod,' and now he bids his men remember Him, and thence draw strengthand courage. The only real antagonist of fear is faith. If we cangrasp God, we shall not dread Sanballat and his crew. Unless we do,the world is full of dangers which it is not folly to fear.

Note, too, that the people are animated for the fight by remindingthem of the dear ones whose lives and honour hung on the issue.Nothing is said about fighting for God and His Temple and city, butthe motives adduced are not less sacred. Family love is God's best ofearthly gifts, and, though it is sometimes duty to 'forget thine ownpeople, and thy father's house,' as we have just seen, nothing shortof these highest obligations can supersede the sweet one of strainingevery nerve for the well-being of dear ones in the hallowed circle ofhome.

So the plan of a sudden rush came to nothing. It does not appear thatthe enemy was in sight; but the news of the demonstration soon reachedthem, and was effectual. Prompt preparation against possible dangersis often the means of turning them aside. Watchfulness isindispensable to vigour of Christian character and efficiency of work.Suspicion is hateful and weakening; but a man who tries to serve Godin such a world as this had need to be like the living creatures inthe Revelation, having 'eyes all over.' 'Blessed is the man that [inthat sense] feareth always.'

The upshot of the alarm is very beautifully told: 'We returned all ofus to the wall, every one unto his work.' No time was wasted injubilation. The work was the main thing, and the moment theinterruption was ended, back to it they all went. It is a fineillustration of persistent discharge of duty, and of that mostvaluable quality, the ability and inclination to keep up the mainpurpose of a life continuous through interruptions, like a stream ofsweet water running through a bog.

III. The remainder of the passage tells us of the standingarrangements made in consequence of the alarm (vs. 16-21). First wehear what Nehemiah did with his own special 'servants,' whether thesewere slaves who had accompanied him from Shushan (as Stanleysupposes), or his body-guard as a Persian official. He divided theminto two parts—one to work, one to watch. But he did not carry outthis plan with the mass of the people, probably because it would havetoo largely diminished the number of builders. So he armed them all.The labourers who carried stones, mortar, and the like, could do theirwork after a fashion with one hand, and so they had a weapon in theother. If they worked in pairs, that would be all the easier. Theactual builders needed both hands, and so they had swords stuck intheir girdles. No doubt such arrangements hindered progress, but theywere necessary. The lesson often drawn from them is no doubt true,that God's workers must be prepared for warfare as well as building.There have been epochs in which that necessity was realised in a verysad manner; and the Church on earth will always have to be the Churchmilitant. But it is well to remember that building is the end, andfighting is but the means. The trowel, not the sword, is the naturalinstrument. Controversy is second best—a necessity, no doubt, but anunwelcome one, and only permissible as a subsidiary help to doing thetrue work, rearing the walls of the city of God.

'He that soundeth the trumpet was by me.' The gallant leader waseverywhere, animating by his presence. He meant to be in the thick ofthe fight, if it should come. And so he kept the trumpeter by hisside, and gave orders that when he sounded all should hurry to theplace; for there the enemy would be, and Nehemiah would be where theywere. 'The work is great and large, and we are separated … one farfrom another.' How naturally the words lend themselves to the oldlesson so often drawn from them! God's servants are widely parted, bydistance, by time, and, alas! by less justifiable causes. Unless theydraw together they will be overwhelmed, taken in detail, and crushed.They must rally to help each other against the common foe.

Thank God! the longing for manifest Christian unity is deeper to-daythan ever it was. But much remains to be done before it is adequatelyfulfilled in the recognition of the common bond of brotherhood, whichbinds us all in one family, if we have one Father. English andAmerican Christians are bound to seek the tightening of the bondsbetween them and to set themselves against politicians who may seek tokeep apart those who both in the flesh and in the spirit are brothers.All Christians have one great Captain; and He will be in the forefrontof every battle. His clear trumpet-call should gather all His servantsto His side.

The closing verse tells again how Nehemiah's immediate dependantsdivided work and watching, and adds to the picture the continuousnessof their toil from the first grey of morning till darkness showed thestars and ended another day of toil. Happy they who thus 'from morntill noon, from noon till dewy eve,' labour in the work of the Lord!For them, every new morning will dawn with new strength, and everyevening be calm with the consciousness of 'something attempted,something done.'

AN ANCIENT NONCONFORMIST

'… So did not I, because of the fear of God.'—Neh. v. 15.

I do not suppose that the ordinary Bible-reader knows very much aboutNehemiah. He is one of the neglected great men of Scripture. He was noprophet, he had no glowing words, he had no lofty visions, he had nospecial commission, he did not live in the heroic age. There was acertain harshness and dryness; a tendency towards what, when it wasmore fully developed, became Pharisaism, in the man, which somewhatcovers the essential nobleness of his character. But he was brave,cautious, circ*mspect, disinterested; and he had Jerusalem in hisheart.

The words that I have read are a little fragment of his autobiographywhich deal with a prosaic enough matter, but carry in them largeprinciples. When he was appointed governor of the little colony ofreturned exiles in Palestine, he found that his predecessors, likeTurkish pashas and Chinese mandarins to-day, had been in the habit of'squeezing' the people of their Government, and that they hadrequisitioned sufficient supplies of provisions to keep the governor'stable well spread. It was the custom. Nobody would have wondered ifNehemiah had conformed to it; but he felt that he must have his handsclean. Why did he not do what everybody else had done in likecirc*mstances? His answer is beautifully simple: 'Because of the fearof God.' His religion went down into the little duties of common life,and imposed upon him a standard far above the maxims that wereprevalent round about him. And so, if you will take these words, anddisengage them from the small matter concerning which they wereoriginally spoken, I think you will find in them thoughts as to theattitude which we should take to prevalent practices, the motive whichshould impel us to a sturdy non-compliance, and the power which willenable us to walk on a solitary road. 'So did not I, because of thefear of God.' Now, then, these are my three points:—

I. The attitude to prevalent practices.

Nehemiah would not conform. And unless you can say 'No!' and do itvery often, your life will be shattered from the beginning. Thatnon-compliance with customary maxims and practices is the beginning,or, at least, one of the foundation-stones, of all nobleness andstrength, of all blessedness and power. Of course it is utterlyimpossible for a man to denude himself of the influences that arebrought to bear upon him by the circ*mstances in which he lives, andthe trend of opinion, and the maxims and practices of the world, inthe corner, and at the time, in which his lot is cast. But, on theother hand, be sure of this, that unless you are in a very deep andnot at all a technical sense of the word, 'Nonconformists,' you willcome to no good. None! It is so easy to do as others do, partlybecause of laziness, partly because of cowardice, partly because ofthe instinctive imitation which is in us all. Men are gregarious. Onegreat teacher has drawn an illustration from a flock of sheep, andsays that if we hold up a stick, and the first of the flock jumps overit, and then if we take away the stick, all the rest of the flock willjump when they come to the point where the first did so. A great manyof us adopt our creeds and opinions, and shape our lives for no betterreason than because people round us are thinking in a certaindirection, and living in a certain way. It saves a great deal oftrouble, and it gratifies a certain strange instinct that is in usall, and it avoids dangers and conflicts that we should, when we areat Rome, do as the Romans do. 'So did not I, because of the fear ofGod.'

Now, brethren! I ask you to take this plain principle of the necessityof non-compliance (which I suppose I do not need to do much toestablish, because, theoretically, we most of us admit it), and applyit all round the circumference of your lives. Apply it to youropinions. There is no tyranny like the tyranny of a majority in ademocratic country like ours. It is quite as harsh as the tyranny ofthe old-fashioned despots. Unless you resolve steadfastly to see withyour own eyes, to use your own brains, to stand on your own feet, tobe a voice and not an echo, you will be helplessly enslaved by thefashion of the hour, and the opinions that prevail.

'What everybody says'—perhaps—'is true.' What most people say, atany given time, is very likely to be false. Truth has always livedwith minorities, so do not let the current of widespread opinion sweepyou away, but try to have a mind of your own, and not to bebrow-beaten or overborne because the majority of the people roundabout you are giving utterance, and it may be unmeasured utterance, toany opinions.

Now, there is one direction in which I wish to urge thatespecially—and now I speak mainly to the young men in mycongregation—and that is, in regard to the attitude that so manyamongst us are taking to Christian truth. If you have honestly thoughtout the subject to the best of your ability, and have come toconclusions diverse from those which men like me hold dearer thantheir lives, that is another matter. But I know that very widely thereis spread to-day the fashion of unbelief. So many influential men,leaders of opinion, teachers and preachers, are giving up theold-fashioned Evangelical faith, that it takes a strong man to saythat he sticks by it. It is a poor reason to give for your attitude,that unbelief is in the air, and nobody believes those old doctrinesnow. That may be. There are currents of opinion that are transitory,and that is one of them, depend upon it. But at all events do not befooled out of your faith, as some of you are tending to be, for nobetter reason than because other people have given it up. An iceberglowers the temperature all round it, and the iceberg of unbelief isamongst us to-day, and it has chilled a great many people who couldnot tell why they have lost the fervour of their faith.

On the other hand, let me remind you that a mere traditional religion,which is only orthodox because other people are so, and has notverified its beliefs by personal experience, is quite as deleteriousas an imitative unbelief. Doubtless, I speak to some who plumethemselves on 'never having been affected by these currents of popularopinion,' but whose unblemished and unquestioned orthodoxy has no morevitality in it than the other people's heterodoxy. The one man hassaid, 'What is everywhere always, and by all believed, I believe'; andthe other man has said, 'What the select spirits of this daydisbelieve, I disbelieve,' and the belief of one and the unbelief ofthe other are equally worthless, and really identical.

But it is not only, nor mainly, in reference to opinion that I wouldurge upon you this nonconformity with prevalent practices as themeasure of most that is noble in us. I dare not talk to you as if Iknew much about the details of Manchester commercial life, but I cansay this much, that it is no excuse for shady practices in your tradeto say, 'It is the custom of the trade, and everybody does it.'Nehemiah might have said: 'There never was a governor yet but took hisforty shekels a day's worth'—about L. 1,800 of our money—'ofprovisions from these poor people, and I am not going to give it upbecause of a scruple. It is the custom, and because it is the custom Ican do it.' I am not going into details. It is commonly understoodthat preachers know nothing about business; that may be true, or itmay not. But this, I am sure, is a word in season for some of myfriends this evening—do not hide behind the trade. Come out into theopen, and deal with the questions of morality involved in yourcommercial life, as you will have to deal with them hereafter, byyourself. Never mind about other people. 'Oh,' but you say, 'thatinvolves loss.' Very likely! Nehemiah was a poorer man because he fedall these one hundred and fifty Jews at his table, but he did not mindthat. It may involve loss, but you will keep God, and that is gain.

Turn this searchlight in another direction. I see a number of youngpeople in my congregation at this moment, young men who are perhapsjust beginning their career in this city, and who possibly have beenstartled when they heard the kind of talk that was going on at thenext desk, or from the man that sits beside them on the benches atCollege. Do not be tempted to follow that multitude to do evil. Unlessyou are prepared to say 'No!' to a great deal that will be pushed intoyour face in this great city, as sure as you are living you will makeshipwreck of your lives. Do you think that in the forty years and morethat I have stood here I have not seen successive generations of youngmen come into Manchester? I could people many of these pews with thefaces of such, who came here buoyant, full of hope, full of highresolves, and with a mother's benediction hanging over their heads,and who got into a bad set, and had not the strength to say 'No,' andthey went down and down and down, and then presently somebody asked,'Where is so-and-so?' 'Oh! his health broke down, and he has gone hometo die.' 'His bones are full of the iniquity of his youth'—and hemade shipwreck of prospects and of life, because he did not pullhimself together when the temptation came, and say, 'So did not I,because of the fear of God.'

II. Now let me ask you to turn with me to the second thought that mytext suggests to me; that is,

The motive that impels to this sturdy non-compliance.

Nehemiah puts it in Old Testament phraseology, 'the fear of God'; theNew Testament equivalent is 'the love of Christ.' And if you want totake the power and the life out of both phrases, in order to find amodern conventional equivalent, you will say 'religion.' I prefer theold-fashioned language. 'The love of Christ' impels to thisnon-compliance. Now, my point is this, that Jesus Christ requires fromeach of us that we shall abstain, restrict ourselves, refuse to do agreat many things that are being done round us.

I need not remind you of how continually He spoke about taking up thecross. I need not do more than just remind you of His parable of thetwo ways, but ask you, whilst you think of it, to note that all thecharacteristics of each of the ways which He sets forth are given byHim as reasons for refusing the one and walking in the other. Forexample, 'Enter ye in at the strait gate, for strait is thegate'—that is a reason for going in; 'and narrow is the way'—that isa reason for going in; 'and few there be that find it'—that is areason for going in. 'Wide is the gate'—that is a reason for stoppingout; 'and broad is the way'—that is a reason for stopping out; 'andmany there be that go in thereat'—that is a reason for stopping out.Is not that what I said, that the minority is generally right and themajority wrong? Just because there are so many people on the path,suspect it, and expect that the path with fewer travellers is probablythe better and the higher.

But to pass from that, what did Jesus Christ mean by His continualcontrast between His disciples and the world? What did He mean by 'theworld'? This fair universe, with all its possibilities of help andblessing, and all its educational influences? By no means. He meant by'the world' the aggregate of things and men considered as separatefrom God. And when He applied the term to men only, He meant by itvery much what we mean when we talk about society. Society is notorganised on Christian principles; we all know that, and until it is,if a man is going to be a Christian he must not conform to the world.'Know ye not that whosoever is a friend of the world is an enemy ofGod.'

I would press upon you, dear friends! that our Christianity is nothingunless it leads us to a standard, and a course of conduct inconformity with that standard, which will be in diametrical oppositionto a great deal of what is patted on the back, and petted and praisedby society. Now, there is an easy-going kind of Christianity whichdoes not recognise that, and which is in great favour with many peopleto-day, and is called 'liberality' and 'breadth,' and 'conciliatingand commending Christianity to outsiders,' and I know not whatbesides. Well, Christ's words seem to me to come down like a hammerupon that sort of thing. Depend upon it, 'the world'—I mean by thatthe aggregate of godless men organised as they are in society—doesnot think much of these trimmers. It may dislike an out-and-outChristian, but it knows him when it sees him, and it has a kind ofhostile respect for him which the other people will never get. Youremember the story of the man that was seeking for a coachman, andwhose question to each applicant was, 'How near can you drive to theedge of a precipice?' He took the man who said: 'I would keep awayfrom it as far as I could.' And the so-called Christian people thatseem to be bent on showing how much their lives can be made toassimilate to the lives of men that have no sympathy with theircreeds, are like the rash Jehus that tried to go as near the edge asthey could. But the consistent Christian will keep as far away from itas he can. There are some of us who seem as if we were most anxious toshow that we, whose creed is absolutely inconsistent with the world'spractices, can live lives which are all but identical with thesepractices. Jesus Christ says, through the lips of His Apostle, what Heoften said in other language by His own lips when He was here onearth: 'Be ye not conformed to the world.'

Surely such a command as that, just because it involves difficulty,self-restraint, self-denial, and sometimes self-crucifixion, ought toappeal, and does appeal, to all that is noble in humanity, in afashion that that smooth, easy-going gospel of living on the level ofthe people round us never can do. For remember that Christ'scommandment not to be conformed to the world is the consequence of Hiscommandment to be conformed to Himself. 'Thus did not I' comes second;'This one thing I do' comes first. You will misunderstand the wholegenius of the Gospel if you suppose that, as a law of life, it isperpetually pulling men short up, and saying: Don't, don't, don't!There is a Christianity of that sort which is mainly prohibition andrestriction, but it is not Christ's Christianity. He begins byenjoining: 'This do in remembrance of Me,' and the man that hasaccepted that commandment must necessarily say, as he looks out on theworld, and its practices: 'So did not I, because of the fear of God.'

III. And now one last word—my text not only suggests the motive whichimpels to this non-compliance, but also the power which enables us toexercise it.

'The fear of God,' or, taking the New Testament equivalent, 'the loveof Christ,' makes it possible for a man, with all his weakness anddependence on surroundings, with all his instinctive desire to be likethe folk that are near him, to take that brave attitude, and to refuseto be one of the crowd that runs after evil and lies. I have no timeto dwell upon this aspect of my subject, as I should be glad to havedone. Let me sum up in a sentence or two what I would have said.Christ will enable you to take this necessary attitude because, inHimself He gives you the Example which it is always safe to follow.The instinct of imitation is planted in us for a good end, and becauseit is in us, examples of nobility appeal to us. And because it is inus Jesus Christ has lived the life that it is possible for, andtherefore incumbent on, us to live. It is safe to imitate Him, and itis easy not to do as men do, if once our main idea is to do as Christdid.

He makes it possible for us, because He gives the strongest possiblemotive for the life that He prescribes. As the Apostle puts it, 'Yeare bought with a price, be not the servants of men.' There is nothingthat will so deliver us from the tyranny of majorities, and of what wecall general opinion and ordinary custom, as to feel that we belong toHim because He died for us. Men become very insignificant when Christspeaks, and the charter of our freedom from them lies in ourredemption by the blood of Jesus Christ.

Jesus Christ being our Redeemer is our Judge, and moment by moment Heis estimating our conduct, and judging our actions as they are done.'With me it is a very small matter to be judged of you or of man'sjudgment. He that judgeth me is the Lord.' Never mind what the peopleround you say; you do not take your orders from them, and you do notanswer to them. Like some official abroad, appointed by the Crown, youdo not report to the local authorities; you report to headquarters,and what He thinks about you is the only important thing. So 'the fearof man which bringeth a snare' dwindles down into very minutedimensions when we think of the Pattern, the Redeemer and the Judge towhom we give account.

And so, dear friends! if we will only open our hearts, by quiet humblefaith, for the coming of Jesus Christ into our lives, then we shall beable to resist, to refuse compliance, to stand firm, though alone. Theservant of Christ is the master of all men. 'All things are yours,whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas—all are yours, and ye areChrist's.'

READING THE LAW WITH TEARS AND JOY

'And all the people gathered themselves together as one man into thestreet that was before the water gate; and they spake unto Ezra thescribe to bring the book of the law of Moses, which the Lord hadcommanded to Israel. 2. And Ezra the priest brought the law before thecongregation both of men and women, and all that could hear withunderstanding, upon the first day of the seventh month. 3. And he readtherein before the street that was before the water gate, from themorning until midday, before the men and the women, and those thatcould understand; and the ears of all the people were attentive untothe book of the law. 4. And Ezra the scribe stood upon a pulpit ofwood, which they had made for the purpose; and beside him stoodMattithiah, and Shema, and Anaiah, and Urijah, and Hilkiah, andMaaseiah, on his right hand; and on his left hand Pedaiah, andMishael, and Malchiah, and Hashum, and Hashbadana, Zechariah, andMeshullam. 5. And Ezra opened the book in the sight of all the people;(for he was above all the people); and when he opened it, all thepeople stood up: 6. And Ezra blessed the Lord, the great God. And allthe people answered, Amen, Amen, with lifting up their hands: and theybowed their heads, and worshipped the Lord with their faces to theground. 7. Also Jeshua, and Bani, and Sherebiah, Jemin, Akkub,Shabbethai, Hodijah, Maaseiah, Kelita, Azariah, Jozabad, Hanan,Pelaiah, and the Levites, caused the people to understand the law: andthe people stood in their place. 8. So they read in the book in thelaw of God distinctly, and gave the sense, and caused them tounderstand the reading. 9. And Nehemiah, which is the Tirashatha, andEzra the priest the scribe, and the Levites that taught the people,said unto all the people, This day is holy unto the Lord your God;mourn not, nor weep. For all the people wept, when they heard thewords of the law. 10. Then he said unto them, Go your way, eat thefat, and drink the sweet, and send portions unto them for whom nothingis prepared: for this day is holy unto our Lord: neither be ye sorry;for the joy of the Lord is your strength. 11. So the Levites stilledall the people, saying, Hold your peace, for the day is holy; neitherbe ye grieved. 12. And all the people went their way to eat, and todrink, and to send portions, and to make great mirth, because they hadunderstood the words that were declared unto them.'—Neh. viii. 1-12.

The wall was finished on the twenty-fifth day of the month Elul, whichwas the sixth month. The events recorded in this passage took place onthe first day of the seventh month. The year is not given, but thenatural inference is that it was the same as that of the finishing ofthe wall; namely, the twentieth of Artaxerxes. If so, the completionof the fortifications to which Nehemiah had set himself, wasimmediately followed by this reading of the law, in which Ezra takesthe lead. The two men stand in a similar relative position to that ofZerubbabel and Joshua, the one representing the civil and the otherthe religious authority.

According to Ezra vii. 9, Ezra had gone to Jerusalem about thirteenyears before Nehemiah, and had had a weary time of fighting againstthe corruptions which had crept in among the returned captives. Thearrival of Nehemiah would be hailed as bringing fresh, youngenthusiasm, none the less welcome and powerful because it had theking's authority entrusted to it. Evidently the two men thoroughlyunderstood one another, and pulled together heartily. We heard nothingabout Ezra while the wall was being built. But now he is the principalfigure, and Nehemiah is barely mentioned. The reasons for Ezra'staking the prominent part in the reading of the law are given in thetwo titles by which he is designated in two successive verses (vers.1,2). He was 'the scribe' and also 'the priest,' and in bothcapacities was the natural person for such a work.

The seventh month was the festival month of the year, its first daybeing that of the Feast of trumpets, and the great Feast oftabernacles as well as the solemn day of atonement occurring in it.Possibly, the prospect of the coming of the times for thesecelebrations may have led to the people's wish to hear the law, thatthey might duly observe the appointed ceremonial. At all events, thefirst thing to note is that it was in consequence of the people's wishthat the law was read in their hearing. Neither Ezra nor Nehemiahoriginated the gathering together. They obeyed a popular impulse whichthey had not created. We must not, indeed, give the multitude creditfor much more than the wish to have their ceremonial right. But therewas at least that wish, and possibly something deeper and morespiritual. The walls were completed; but the true defence of Israelwas in God, and the condition of His defending was Israel's obedienceto His law. The people were, in some measure, beginning to realisethat condition with new clearness, in consequence of the new fervourwhich Nehemiah had brought.

It is singular that, during his thirteen years of residence, Ezra isnot recorded to have promulgated the law, though it lay at the basisof the drastic reforms which he was able to carry through. Probably hehad not been silent, but the solemn public recitation of the law wasfelt to be appropriate on occasion of completing the wall. Whether thepeople had heard it before, or, as seems implied, it was strange tothem, their desire to hear it may stand as a pattern for us of thatearnest wish to know God's will which is never cherished in vain. Hewho does not intend to obey does not wish to know the law. If we haveno longing to know what the will of the Lord is, we may be very surethat we prefer our own to His. If we desire to know it, we shalldesire to understand the Book which contains so much of it. Any truereligion in the heart will make us eager to perceive, and willing tobe guided by, the will of God, revealed mainly in Scripture, in thePerson, works, and words of Jesus, and also in waiting hearts by theSpirit, and in those things which the world calls 'circ*mstances' andfaith names 'providences.'

II. Verses 2-8 appear to tell the same incidents twice over—first,more generally in verses 2 and 8, and then more minutely. Suchexpanded repetition is characteristic of the Old Testament historicalstyle. It is somewhat difficult to make sure of the realcirc*mstances. Clearly enough there was a solemn assembly of men,women, and children in a great open space outside one of the gates,and there, from dawn till noon, the law was read and explained. Butwhether Ezra read it all, while the Levites named in verse 7 explainedor paraphrased or translated it, or whether they all read in turns, orwhether there were a number of groups, each of which had a teacher whoboth read and expounded, is hard to determine. At all events, Ezra wasthe principal figure, and began the reading.

It was a picturesque scene. The sun, rising over the slopes of Olivet,would fall on the gathered crowd, if the water-gate was, as isprobable, on the east or south-east side of the city. Beneath thefresh fortifications probably, which would act as a sounding-board forthe reader, was set up a scaffold high above the crowd, large enoughto hold Ezra and thirteen supporters—principal men, no doubt—sevenon one side of him and six on the other. Probably a name has droppedout, and the numbers were equal. There, in the morning light, with thenew walls for a background, stood Ezra on his rostrum, and amidreverent silence, lifted high the sacred roll. A common impulse swayedthe crowd, and brought them all to their feet—token at once ofrespect and obedient attention. Probably many of them had never seen asacred roll. To them all it was comparatively unfamiliar. No wonderthat, as Ezra's voice rose in prayer, the whole assembly fell on theirfaces in adoration, and every lip responded 'Amen! amen!'

Much superstition may have mingled with the reverence. No doubt, therewas then what we are often solemnly warned against now, bibliolatry.But in this time of critical investigation it is not the divineelement in Scripture which is likely to be exaggerated; and few arelikely to go wrong in the direction of paying too much reverence tothe Book in which, as is still believed, God has revealed His will andHimself. While welcoming all investigations which throw light on itsorigin or its meaning, and perfectly recognising the human element init, we should learn the lesson taught by that waiting crowd prone ontheir faces, and blessing God for His word. Such attitude must everprecede reading it, if we are to read aright.

Hour after hour the recitation went on. We must let the question ofthe precise form of the events remain undetermined. It is somewhatsingular that thirteen names are enumerated as of the men who stood byEzra, and thirteen as those of the readers or expounders. It may bethe case that the former number is complete, though uneven, and thatthere was some reason unknown for dividing the audience into just somany sections. The second set of thirteen was not composed of the samemen as the first. They seem to have been Levites, whose office ofassisting at the menial parts of the sacrifices was now elevated intothat of setting forth the law. Probably the portions read were such asbore especially on ritual, though the tears of the listeners aresufficient proof that they had heard some things that went deeper thanthat.

The word rendered 'distinctly' in the Revised Version (margin,with an interpretation) is ambiguous, and may eithermean that the Levites explained or that they translated the words. Theformer is the more probable, as there is no reason to suppose that theaudience, most of whom had been born in the land, were ignorant ofHebrew. But if the ritual had been irregularly observed, and thecircle of ideas in the law become unfamiliar, many explanations wouldbe necessary. It strikes one as touching and strange that such anassembly should be needed after so many centuries of nationalexistence. It sums up in one vivid picture the sin and suffering ofthe nation. To observe that law had been the condition of theirprosperity. To bind it on their hearts should have been their delightand would have been their life; and here, after all these generations,the best of the nation are assembled, so ignorant of it that theycannot even understand it when they hear it. Absorption with worldlythings has an awful power of dulling spiritual apprehension. Neglectof God's law weakens the power of understanding it.

This scene was in the truest sense a 'revival.' We may learn the trueway of bringing men back to God; namely, the faithful exposition andenforcement of God's will and word. We may learn, too, what should bethe aim of public teachers of religion; namely, first and foremost,the clear setting forth of God's truth. Their first business is to'give the sense, so that they understand the reading'; and that, notfor merely intellectual purposes, but that, like the crowd outside thewater-gate on that hot noonday, men may be moved to penitence, andthen lifted to the joy of the Lord.

The first day of the seventh month was the Feast of trumpets; and whenthe reading was over, and its effects of tears and sorrow fordisobedience were seen, the preachers changed their tone, to bringconsolation and exhort to gladness. Nehemiah had taken no part inreading the law, as Ezra the priest and his Levites were moreappropriately set to that. But he joins them in exhorting the peopleto dry their tears, and go joyfully to the feast. These exhortationscontain many thoughts universally applicable. They teach that eventhose who are most conscious of sin and breaches of God's law shouldweep indeed, but should swiftly pass from tears to joy. They do notteach how that passage is to be effected; and in so far they areimperfect, and need to be supplemented by the New Testament teachingof forgiveness through the sacrifice of Jesus Christ. But in theirclear discernment that sorrow is not meant to be a permanentcharacteristic of religion, and that gladness is a more acceptableoffering than tears, they teach a valuable lesson, needed always bymen who fancy that they must atone for their sins by their ownsadness, and that religion is gloomy, harsh, and crabbed.

Further, these exhortations to festal gladness breathe thecharacteristic Old Testament tone of wholesome enjoyment of materialgood as a part of religion. The way of looking at eating and drinkingand the like, as capable of being made acts of worship, has been toooften forgotten by two kinds of men—saints who have sought sanctityin asceticism; and sensualists who have taken deep draughts of suchpleasures without calling on the name of the Lord, and so have failedto find His gifts a cup of salvation. It is possible to 'eat and drinkand see God' as the elders of Israel did on Sinai.

Further, the plain duty of remembering the needy while we enjoy God'sgifts is beautifully enjoined here. The principle underlying thecommandment to 'send portions to them for whom nothing isprovided'—that is, for whom no feast has been dressed—is that allgifts are held in trust, that nothing is bestowed on us for our owngood only, but that we are in all things stewards. The law extends tothe smallest and to the greatest possessions. We have no right tofeast on anything unless we share it, whether it be festal dainties orthe bread that came down from heaven. To divide our portion withothers is the way to make our portion greater as well as sweeter.

Further, 'the joy of the Lord is your strength.' By strengthhere seems to be meant a stronghold. If we fix our desires onGod, and have trained our hearts to find sweeter delights in communionwith Him than in any earthly good, our religion will have lifted usabove mists and clouds into clear air above, where sorrows and changeswill have little power to affect us. If we are to rejoice in the Lord,it will be possible for us to 'rejoice always,' and that joy will beas a refuge from all the ills that flesh is heir to. Dwelling in God,we shall dwell safely, and be far from the fear of evil.

THE JOY OF THE LORD

'The joy of the Lord is your strength.'—Neh. viii. 10.

Judaism, in its formal and ceremonial aspect, was a religion ofgladness. The feast was the great act of worship. It is not to bewondered at, that Christianity, the perfecting of that ancient system,has been less markedly felt to be a religion of joy; for it bringswith it far deeper and more solemn views about man in his nature,condition, responsibilities, destinies, than ever prevailed before,under any system of worship. And yet all deep religion ought to bejoyful, and all strong religion assuredly will be so.

Here, in the incident before us, there has come a time in Nehemiah'sgreat enterprise, when the law, long forgotten, long broken by thecaptives, is now to be established again as the rule of thenewly-founded commonwealth. Naturally enough there comes a remembranceof many sins in the past history of the people; and tears notunnaturally mingle with the thankfulness that again they are a nation,having a divine worship and a divine law in their midst. The leader ofthem, knowing for one thing that if the spirits of his people oncebegan to flag, they could not face nor conquer the difficulties oftheir position, said to them, 'This day is holy unto the Lord: thisfeast that we are keeping is a day of devout worship; therefore mournnot, nor weep: go your way; eat the fat, and drink the sweet, and sendportions unto them for whom nothing is prepared; neither be ye sorry,for the joy of the Lord is your strength.' You will make nothing of itby indulgence in lamentation and in mourning. You will have no morepower for obedience, you will not be fit for your work, if you fallinto a desponding state. Be thankful and glad; and remember that thepurest worship is the worship of God-fixed joy, 'the joy of the Lordis your strength.' And that is as true, brethren! with regard to us,as it ever was in these old times; and we, I think, need the lessoncontained in this saying of Nehemiah's, because of some prevalenttendencies amongst us, no less than these Jews did. Take some simplethoughts suggested by this text which are both important in themselvesand needful to be made emphatic because so often forgotten in theordinary type of Christian character. They are these. Religious Joy isthe natural result of faith. It is a Christian duty. It is animportant element in Christian strength.

I. Joy in the Lord is the natural result of Christian Faith.

There is a natural adaptation or provision in the Gospel, both by whatit brings to us and by what it takes away from us, to make a calm, andsettled, and deep gladness, the prevalent temper of the Christianspirit. In what it gives us, I say, and in what it takes away from us.It gives us what we call well a sense of acceptance with God, it givesus God for the rest of our spirits, it gives us the communion with Himwhich in proportion as it is real, will be still, and in proportion asit is still, will be all bright and joyful. It takes away from us thefear that lies before us, the strifes that lie within us, thedesperate conflict that is waged between a man's conscience and hisinclinations, between his will and his passions, which tears the heartasunder, and always makes sorrow and tumult wherever it comes. Ittakes away the sense of sin. It gives us, instead of the torpidconscience, or the angrily-stinging conscience—a conscience all calmfrom its accusations, with all the sting drawn out of it:—for quietpeace lies in the heart of the man that is trusting in the Lord. TheGospel works joy, because the soul is at rest in God; joy, becauseevery function of the spiritual nature has found now its haven and itsobject; joy, because health has come, and the healthy working of thebody or of the spirit is itself a gladness; joy, because the dimfuture is painted (where it is painted at all) with shapes of lightand beauty, and because the very vagueness of these is an element inthe greatness of its revelation. The joy that is in Christ is deep andabiding. Faith in Him naturally works gladness.

I do not forget that, on the other side, it is equally true that theChristian faith has as marked and almost as strong an adaptation toproduce a solemn sorrow—solemn, manly, noble, and strong. 'Assorrowful, yet always rejoicing,' is the rule of the Christian life.If we think of what our faith does; of the light that it casts uponour condition, upon our nature, upon our responsibilities, upon oursins, and upon our destinies, we can easily see how, if gladness beone part of its operation, no less really and truly is sadnessanother. Brethren! all great thoughts have a solemn quiet in them,which not unfrequently merges into a still sorrow. There is nothingmore contemptible in itself, and there is no more sure mark of atrivial nature and a trivial round of occupations, than unshadedgladness, that rests on no deep foundations of quiet, patient grief;grief, because I know what I am and what I ought to be; grief, becauseI have learnt the 'exceeding sinfulness of sin'; grief, because,looking out upon the world, I see, as other men do not see, hell-fireburning at the back of the mirth and the laughter, and know what it isthat men are hurrying to! Do you remember who it was that stood by theside of the one poor dumb man, whose tongue He was going to loose, andlooking up to heaven, sighed before He could say, 'Be opened'?Do you remember that of Him it is said, 'God hath anointed Thee withthe oil of gladness above Thy fellows'; and also, 'a Man of sorrows,and acquainted with grief'? And do you not think that both thesecharacteristics are to be repeated in the operations of His Gospelupon every heart that receives it? And if, by the hopes it breathesinto us, by the fears that it takes away from us, by the union withGod that it accomplishes for us, by the fellowship that it implants inus, it indeed anoints us all 'with the oil of gladness'; yet, on theother hand, by the sense of mine own sin that it teaches me; by theconflict with weakness which it makes to be the law of my life; by theclear vision which it gives me of 'the law of my members warringagainst the law of my mind, and bringing me into subjection'; by theintensity which it breathes into all my nature, and by the thoughtsthat it presents of what sin leads to, and what the world at presentis, the Gospel, wheresoever it comes, will infuse a wise, valiantsadness as the very foundation of character. Yes, joy, but sorrow too!the joy of the Lord, but sorrow as we look on our own sin and theworld's woe! the head anointed with the oil of gladness, but alsocrowned with thorns!

These two are not contradictory. These two states of mind, both ofthem the natural operations of any deep faith, may co-exist and blendinto one another, so as that the gladness is sobered, and chastened,and made manly and noble; and that the sorrow is like somethundercloud, all streaked with bars of sunshine, that pierce into itsdeepest depths. The joy lives in the midst of the sorrow; the sorrowsprings from the same root as the gladness. The two do not clashagainst each other, or reduce the emotion to a neutral indifference,but they blend into one another; just as, in the Arctic regions, deepdown beneath the cold snow, with its white desolation and its barrendeath, you will find the budding of the early spring flowers and thefresh green grass; just as some kinds of fire burn below the water;just as, in the midst of the barren and undrinkable sea, there may bewelling up some little fountain of fresh water that comes from adeeper depth than the great ocean around it, and pours its sweetstreams along the surface of the salt waste. Gladness, because I love,for love is gladness; gladness, because I trust, for trustis gladness; gladness, because I obey, for obedience is a meatthat others know not of, and light comes when we do His will! Butsorrow, because still I am wrestling with sin; sorrow, because still Ihave not perfect fellowship; sorrow, because mine eye, purified by myliving with God, sees earth, and sin, and life, and death, and thegenerations of men, and the darkness beyond, in some measure as Godsees them! And yet, the sorrow is surface, and the joy is central; thesorrow springs from circ*mstance, and the gladness from the essence ofthe thing;—and therefore the sorrow is transitory, and the gladnessis perennial. For the Christian life is all like one of those sweetspring showers in early April, when the rain-drops weave for us a mistthat hides the sunshine; and yet the hidden sun is in every sparklingdrop, and they are all saturated and steeped in its light. 'The joy ofthe Lord' is the natural result and offspring of all Christian faith.

II. And now, secondly, the 'joy of the Lord' or rejoicing in God, is amatter of Christian duty.

It is a commandment here, and it is a command in the New Testament aswell. 'Neither be ye sorry, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.'I need not quote to you the frequent repetitions of the sameinjunction which the Apostle Paul gives us, 'Rejoice in the Lordalways, and again I say, Rejoice'; 'Rejoice evermore,' and the like.The fact that this joy is enjoined us suggests to us a thought or two,worth looking at.

You may say with truth, 'My emotions of joy and sorrow are not undermy own control: I cannot help being glad and sad as circ*mstancesdictate.' But yet here it lies, a commandment. It is a duty, a thingthat the Apostle enjoins; in which, of course, is implied, thatsomehow or other it is to a large extent within one's own power, andthat even the indulgence in this emotion, and the degree to which aChristian life shall be a cheerful life, is dependent in a largemeasure on our own volitions, and stands on the same footing as ourobedience to God's other commandments.

We can to a very great extent control even our own emotions;but then, besides, we can do more than that. It may be quite true,that you cannot help feeling sorrowful in the presence of sorrowfulthoughts, and glad in the presence of thoughts that naturally kindlegladness. But I will tell you what you can do or refrain fromdoing—you can either go and stand in the light, or you can go andstand in the shadow. You can either fix your attention upon, and makethe predominant subject of your religious contemplations, a truthwhich shall make you glad and strong, or a half-truth, which shallmake you sorrowful, and therefore weak. Your meditations may eithercentre mainly upon your own selves, your faults and failings, and thelike; or they may centre mainly upon God and His love, Christ and Hisgrace, the Holy Spirit and His communion. You may either fill yoursoul with joyful thoughts, or though a true Christian, a real, devout,God-accepted believer, you may be so misapprehending the nature of theGospel, and your relation to it, its promises and precepts, its dutiesand predictions, as that the prevalent tinge and cast of your religionshall be solemn and almost gloomy, and not lighted up and irradiatedwith the felt sense of God's presence—with the strong, healthyconsciousness that you are a forgiven and justified man, and that youare going to be a glorified one.

And thus far (and it is a long way) by the selection or the rejectionof the appropriate and proper subjects which shall make the mainportion of our religious contemplation, and shall be the food of ourdevout thoughts, we can determine the complexion of our religiouslife. Just as you inject colouring matter into the fibres of someanatomical preparation; so a Christian may, as it were, inject intoall the veins of his religious character and life, either the brighttints of gladness or the dark ones of self-despondency; and the resultwill be according to the thing that he has put into them. If yourthoughts are chiefly occupied with God, and what He has done and isfor you, then you will have peaceful joy. If, on the other hand, theyare bent ever on yourself and your own unbelief, then you will alwaysbe sad. You can make your choice.

Christian men, the joy of the Lord is a duty. It is so because, as wehave seen, it is the natural effect of faith, because we can do muchto regulate our emotions directly, and much more to determine them bydetermining what set of thoughts shall engage us. A wise and strongfaith is our duty. To keep our emotional nature well under control ofreason and will is our duty. To lose thoughts of ourselves in God'struth about Himself is our duty. If we do these things, we cannot failto have Christ's joy remaining in us, and making ours full. If we havenot that blessed possession abiding with us, which He lived and diedto give us, there is something wrong in us somewhere.

It seems to me that this is a truth which we have great need, myfriends, to lay to heart. It is of no great consequence that we shouldpractically confute the impotent old sneer about religion as being agloomy thing. One does not need to mind much what some people say onthat matter. The world would call 'the joy of the Lord' gloom, just asmuch as it calls 'godly sorrow' gloom. But we are losing for ourselvesa power and an energy of which we have no conception, unless we feelthat joy is a duty, and unless we believe that not to be joyful in theLord is, therefore, more than a misfortune, it is a fault.

I do not forget that the comparative absence of this happy, peacefulsense of acceptance, harmony, oneness with God, springs sometimes fromtemperament, and depends on our natural disposition. Of course thenatural character determines to a large extent the perspective of ourconceptions of Christian truth, and the colouring of our innerreligious life. I do not mean to say, for a moment, that there is oneuniform type to which all must be conformed, or they sin. There isindeed one type, the perfect manhood of Jesus, but it is allcomprehensive, and each variety of our fragmentary manhood finds itsown perfecting, and not its transmutation to another fashion of man,in being conformed to Him. Some of us are naturally fainthearted,timid, sceptical of any success, grave, melancholy, or hard to stir toany emotion. To such there will be an added difficulty in making quietconfident joy any very familiar guest in their home or in their placeof prayer. But even such should remember that the 'powers of the worldto come,' the energies of the Gospel, are given to us for the veryexpress purpose of overcoming, as well as of hallowing, naturaldispositions. If it be our duty to rejoice in the Lord, it is nosufficient excuse to urge for not responding to the reiterated call,'I myself am disposed to sadness.'

Whilst making all allowances for the diversities of character, whichwill always operate to diversify the cast of the inner life in eachindividual, we think that, in the great majority of instances, thereare two things, both faults, which have a great deal more to do withthe absence of joy from much Christian experience, than anyunfortunate natural tendency to the dark side of things. The one is,an actual deficiency in the depth and reality of our faith; and theother is, a misapprehension of the position which we have a right totake and are bound to take.

There is an actual deficiency in our faith. Oh, brethren! it is not tobe wondered at that Christians do not find that the Lord with them isthe Lord their strength and joy, as well as the Lord 'theirrighteousness'; when the amount of their fellowship with Him is sosmall, and the depth of it so shallow, as we usually find it. Thefirst true vision that a sinful soul has of God, the imperfectbeginnings of religion, usually are accompanied with intenseself-abhorrence, and sorrowing tears of penitence. A further closervision of the love of God in Jesus Christ brings with it 'joy andpeace in believing.' But the prolongation of these throughout liferequires the steadfast continuousness of gaze towards Him. It is onlywhere there is much faith and consequent love that there is much joy.Let us search our own hearts. If there is but little heat around thebulb of the thermometer, no wonder that the mercury marks a lowdegree. If there is but small faith, there will not be much gladness.The road into Giant Despair's castle is through doubt, which doubtcomes from an absence, a sinful absence, in our own experience, of thefelt presence of God, and the felt force of the verities of HisGospel.

But then, besides that, there is another fault: not a fault in thesense of crime or sin, but a fault (and a great one) in the sense oferror and misapprehension. We as Christians do not take the positionwhich we have a right to take and that we are bound to take. Menventure themselves upon God's word as they do on doubtful ice, timidlyputting a light foot out, to feel if it will bear them, and alwayshaving the tacit fear, 'Now, it is going to crack!' You must castyourselves on God's Gospel with all your weight, without any hangingback, without any doubt, without even the shadow of a suspicion thatit will give—that the firm, pure floor will give, and let youthrough into the water! A Christian shrink from saying what theApostle said, 'I know in whom I have believed, and am persuadedthat He is able to keep that which I have committed to Him until thatday'! A Christian fancy that salvation is a future thing, and forgetthat it is a present thing! A Christian tremble to profess 'assuranceof hope,' forgetting that there is no hope strong enough to bear thestress of a life's sorrows, which is not a conviction certain as one'sown existence! Brethren! understand that the Gospel is a Gospel whichbrings a present salvation; and try to feel that it is notpresumption, but simply acting out the very fundamental principle ofit, when you are not afraid to say, 'I know that my Redeemer isyonder, and I know that He loves me!' Try to feel, I say, thatby faith you have a right to take that position, 'Now, we knowthat we are the sons of God'; that you have a right to claim foryourselves, and that you are falling beneath the loftiness of the giftthat is given to you unless you do claim for yourselves, the place ofsons, accepted, loved, sure to be glorified at God's right hand. Am Iteaching presumption? am I teaching carelessness, or a dispensing withself-examination? No, but I am saying this: If a man have once felt,and feel, in however small and feeble a degree, and depressed bywhatsoever sense of daily transgressions, if he feel, faint like thefirst movement of an imprisoned bird in its egg, the feeble pulse ofan almost imperceptible and fluttering faith beat—then that man has aright to say, 'God is mine!'

As one of our great teachers, little remembered now said, 'Let me takemy personal salvation for granted'—and what? and 'be idle?' No; 'andwork from it.' Ay, brethren! a Christian is not to be for everasking himself, 'Am I a Christian?' He is not to be for ever lookinginto himself for marks and signs that he is. He is to look intohimself to discover sins, that he may by God's help cast them out, todiscover sins that shall teach him to say with greater thankfulness,'What a redemption this is which I possess!' but he is to base hisconvictions that he is God's child upon something other than his owncharacteristics and the feebleness of his own strength. He is to have'joy in the Lord' whatever may be his sorrow from outward things. AndI believe that if Christian people would lay that thought to heart,they would understand better how the natural operation of the Gospelis to make them glad, and how rejoicing in the Lord is a Christianduty.

III. And now with regard to the other thought that still remains to beconsidered, namely, that rejoicing in the Lord is a source ofstrength,—I have already anticipated, fragmentarily, nearly all thatI could have said here in a more systematic form. All gladness hassomething to do with our efficiency; for it is the prerogative of manthat his force comes from his mind, and not from his body. That oldsong about a sad heart tiring in a mile, is as true in regard to theGospel, and the works of Christian people, as in any other case. If wehave hearts full of light, and souls at rest in Christ, and the wealthand blessedness of a tranquil gladness lying there, and filling ourbeing; work will be easy, endurance will be easy, sorrow will bebearable, trials will not be so very hard, and above all temptationswe shall be lifted, and set upon a rock. If the soul is full, and fullof joy, what side of it will be exposed to the assault of anytemptation? If the appeal be to fear, the gladness that is there is ananswer. If the appeal be to passion, desire, wish for pleasure of anysort, there is no need for any more-the heart is full. And sothe gladness which rests in Christ will be a gladness which will fitus for all service and for all endurance, which will be unbroken byany sorrow, and, like the magic shield of the old legends, invisible,impenetrable, in its crystalline purity will stand before the temptedheart, and will repel all the 'fiery darts of the wicked.'

'The joy of the Lord is your strength,' my brother! Nothing else is.No vehement resolutions, no sense of his own sinfulness, nor evencontrite remembrance of past failures, ever yet made a man strong. Itmade him weak that he might become strong, and when it had done thatit had done its work. For strength there must be hope, for strengththere must be joy. If the arm is to smite with vigour, it must smiteat the bidding of a calm and light heart. Christian work is of such asort as that the most dangerous opponent to it is simple despondencyand simple sorrow. 'The joy of the Lord is your strength.'

Well, then! there are two questions: How comes it that so much of theworld's joy is weakness? and how comes it that so much of the world'snotion of religion is gloom and sadness? Answer them for yourselves,and remember: you are weak unless you are glad; you are not glad andstrong unless your faith and hope are fixed in Christ, and unless youare working from and not towards the sense of pardon, from and nottowards the conviction of acceptance with God!

SABBATH OBSERVANCE

'In those days saw I in Judah some treading wine presses on thesabbath, and bringing in sheaves, and lading asses; as also wine,grapes, and figs, and all manner of burdens, which they brought intoJerusalem on the sabbath day: and I testified against them in the daywherein they sold victuals. 16. There dwelt men of Tyre also therein,which brought fish, and all manner of ware, and sold on the sabbathunto the children of Judah, and in Jerusalem. 17. Then I contendedwith the nobles of Judah, and said unto them, What evil thing is thisthat ye do, and profane the sabbath day? 18. Did not your fathersthus, and did not our God bring all this evil upon us, and upon thiscity? yet ye bring more wrath upon Israel by profaning the sabbath,19. And it came to pass, that when the gates of Jerusalem began to bedark before the sabbath, I commanded that the gates should be shut,and charged that they should not be opened till after the sabbath: andsome of my servants set I at the gates, that there should no burden bebrought in on the sabbath day. 20. So the merchants and sellers of allkind of ware lodged without Jerusalem once or twice. 21. Then Itestified against them, and said unto them, Why lodge ye about thewall? if ye do so again, I will lay hands on you. From that time forthcame they no more on the sabbath. 22. And I commanded the Levites thatthey should cleanse themselves, and that they should come and keep thegates, to sanctify the sabbath day. Remember me, O my God, concerningthis also, and spare me according to the greatness of Thymercy.'—NEH. xiii. 15-22.

Many religious and moral reformations depend for their vitality on oneman, and droop if his influence be withdrawn. It was so withNehemiah's work. He toiled for twelve years in Jerusalem, and thenreturned for 'certain days' to the king at Babylon. The length of hisabsence is not given; but it was long enough to let much of his workbe undone, and to give him much trouble to restore it to the conditionin which he had left it. This last chapter of his book is but a sadclose for a record which began with such high hope, and tells of suchstrenuous, self-sacrificing effort. The last page of many a reformer'shistory has been, like Nehemiah's, a sad account of efforts to stemthe ebbing tide of enthusiasm and the flowing tide of worldliness. Theheavy stone is rolled a little way up hill, and, as soon as one stronghand is withdrawn, down it tumbles again to its old place. Theevanescence of great men's work makes much of the tragedy of history.

Our passage is particularly concerned with Nehemiah's efforts toenforce Sabbath observance. The rest of the chapter is occupied withsimilar efforts to set right other irregularities of a ceremonialcharacter, such as the exclusion of Gentiles from the Temple, theexaction of the 'portions of the Levites,' and the like. The passagefalls into three parts—the abuse (vs. 15, 16), the vigorous remedies(vs. 17-22), and the prayer (v. 22).

I. The abuse consisted in Sabbath work and trading. Nehemiah found, onhis return, that the people 'in Judaea'—that is, in the countrydistricts—carried on their farm labour and also brought their produceto market to Jerusalem on the Sabbath. So he 'testified against themin the day wherein they sold victuals'; that is, probably meaning thathe warned them either in person or by messengers before taking furthersteps. Not only did Jews break the sacred day, but they let heathen doso too. The narrative tells, with a kind of horror, the manyaggravations of this piece of wickedness. 'They'—Gentiles with whomcontact defiled—'sold on the Sabbath'—the day of rest—'to thechildren of Judah'—God's people—'in Jerusalem'—the Holy City. Itwas a many-barrelled crime. Tyre was far from Jerusalem, and one doesnot see how fish could have been brought in good condition. Perhapstheir perishableness was the excuse for allowing their sale on theSabbath, as is sometimes the case in fishing-villages even inSabbath-keeping Scotland. Such was the abuse with which Nehemiahstruggled.

It is easy to pooh-pooh his crusade against Sabbath labour as merescrupulousness about externals. But it is a blunder and an injusticeto a noble character if we forget that the stage of revelation atwhich he stood necessarily made him more dependent on externals thanChristians are or should be. But his vindication does not need suchconsiderations. He had a truer insight into what active men needed forvigorous working days, and what devout men needed for healthyreligion, than many moderns who smile at his eagerness about 'mereexternalisms.'

It is easy to ridicule the Jewish Sabbath and 'the Puritan Sunday.' Nodoubt there have been and are well-meant but mistaken efforts toinsist on too rigid observance. No doubt it has been often forgottenby good people that the Christian Lord's Day is not the JewishSabbath. Of course the religious observance of the day is not a fitsubject for legislation. But the need for a seventh day of rest isimpressed on our physical and intellectual nature; and devout heartswill joyfully find their best rest in Christian worship and service.The vigour of religious life demands special seasons set apart forworship. Unless there be such reservoirs along the road, there will bebut a thin trickle of a brook by the way. It is all very well to talkabout religion diffused through the life, but it will not be sodiffused unless it is concentrated at certain times.

They are no benefactors to the community who seek to break down andrelax the stringency of the prohibition of labour. If once the ideathat Sunday is a day of amusem*nt take root, the amusem*nt of somewill require the hard work of others, and the custom of work will tendto extend, till rest becomes the exception, and work the rule. Therenever was a time when men lived so furiously fast as now. The pace ofmodern life demands Sunday rest more than ever. If a railway car isrun continually it will wear out sooner than if it were laid aside fora day or two occasionally; and if it is run at express speed it willneed the rest more. We are all going at top speed; and there would bemore breakdowns if it were not for that blessed institution which somepeople think they are promoting the public good by destroying—aseventh day of rest.

Our great trading centres in England have the same foreign element tocomplicate matters as Nehemiah had to deal with. The Tyrianfishmongers knew and cared nothing for Israel's Jehovah or Sabbath,and their presence would increase the tendency to disregard the day.So with us, foreigners of many nationalities, but alike in theirdisregard of our religious observances, leaven the society, and helpto mould the opinions and practices, of our great cities. That is avery real source of danger in regard to Sabbath observance and manyother things; and Christian people should be on their guard againstit.

II. The vigorous remedies applied by Nehemiah were administered firstto the rulers. He sent for the nobles, and laid the blame at theirdoors. 'Ye profane the day,' said he. Men in authority are responsiblefor crimes which they could check, but prefer to wink at. Nehemiahseems to trace all the national calamities to the breach of theSabbath; but of course he is simply laying stress on the sin aboutwhich he is speaking, as any man who sets himself earnestly to work tofight any form of evil is apt to do. Then the men who are not inearnest cry out about 'exaggeration.' Many other sins besidesSabbath-breaking had a share in sending Israel into captivity; and ifNehemiah had been fighting with idolatrous tendencies he would haveisolated idolatry as the cause of its calamities, just as, whenfighting against Sabbath-breaking, he emphasises that sin.

Nehemiah was governor for the Persian king, and so had a right to ratethese nobles. In this day the people have the same right, and thereare many social sins for which they should arraign civic and otherauthorities. Christian principles unflinchingly insisted on byChristian people, and brought to bear, by ballot-boxes and otherpersuasive ways, on what stands for conscience in some high places,would make a wonderful difference on many of the abominations of ourcities. Go to the 'nobles' first, and lay the burden on the backs thatought to carry it.

Then Nehemiah took practical measures by shutting the city gates onthe eve of the Sabbath, and putting some of his own servants as awatch. The thing seems to have been done without any notice; so whenthe country folk came in, as usual, on the Sabbath, they could not getinto the city, and camped outside, making a visible temptation to thecitizens, to slip out and do a little business, if they could manageto elude the guards. Once or twice this happened; and then Nehemiahhimself seems to have taken them in hand, with a very plain andsufficiently emphatic warning: 'If ye do so again, I will lay hands onyou.'

Of course, 'from that time they came no more on the Sabbath,' as wasnatural after such a volley. A man with a good strong will is apt toget his own way, even when he is not clothed with the authority of agovernor. Then Nehemiah strengthened the guard, or perhaps withdrewhis own servants and substituted for them Levites, whose officialposition would put them in full sympathy with his efforts. Thatpriestly guard would be inflexible, and with its appointment the abuseappears to have been crushed.

The example of Nehemiah's enforcing Sabbath observance is not to betaken as a pattern for Christian communities, without manylimitations. But it appears to the present writer that it is perfectlylegitimate for the civil power to insist upon, and if necessary toenforce, the observance of Sunday as a day of rest; and that, sincelegitimate, it is for the well-being of the community that it shoulddo so. Tyrians might believe anything they chose, and use the day ofrest as they thought proper, so long as they did not sell fish on it.We do not interfere with religious convictions when we enjoin Sundayobservance. Nehemiah's argument has sometimes to be used, even aboutsuch a matter: 'If ye do so again, I will lay hands on you.'

The methods adopted may yield suggestions for all who would aim atreforming abuses or public immoralities. One most necessary step is tocut off, as far as possible, opportunities for the sin. There will beno trade if you shut the gates the night before. There will be littledrunkenness if there are no liquor shops. It is quite true that peoplecannot be made virtuous by legislation, but it is also true that theymay be saved from temptations to become vicious by it.

Another hint comes from Nehemiah's vigorous word to the country folkoutside the wall. There is need for very strong determination and muchsanctified obstinacy in fighting popular abuses. They die hard. It ispermissible to invoke the aid of the lawful authority. But a man withstrong convictions and earnest purpose will be able to impress hisconvictions on a mass, even if he have no guards at his back. The onething needful for Christian reformers is, not the power to appeal toforce, but the force which they can carry within them. And it isbetter when the traders love the Sabbath too well to wish to drivebargains on it, than when they are hindered from doing as they wish byNehemiah's strong will or formidable threats.

Once more, the guard of Levites may suggest that the execution ofmeasures for the reformation of manners or morals is best entrusted tothose who are in sympathy with them. Levites made faithful watchmen.Many a promising measure for reformation has come to nothing becausecommitted to the hands of functionaries who did not care for itssuccess. The instruments are almost as important as the measures whichthey carry out.

III. Nehemiah's prayer occurs thrice in this chapter, at the close ofeach section recounting his reforming acts. In the first instance (v.14) it is most full, and puts very plainly the merit of good deeds asa plea with God. The same thing is implied in its form in verse 22.But while, no doubt, the tone of the prayer is startling to us, and isnot such as should be offered now by Christians, it but echoes theprinciple of retribution which underlies the law. 'This do, and thoushalt live,' was the very foundation of Nehemiah's form of God'srevelation. We do not plead our own merits, because we are not underthe law, but under grace, and the principle underlying the gospel islife by impartation of unmerited mercy and divine life. But the law ofretribution still remains valid for Christians in so far as that Godwill never forget any of their works, and will give them fullrecompense for their work of faith and labour of love. Eternal lifehere and hereafter is wholly the gift of God; but that fact does notexclude the notion of 'the recompense of reward' from the Christianconception of the future. It becomes not us to present our good deedsbefore the Judge, since they are stained and imperfect, and thegoodness in them is His gift. But it becomes Him to crown them withHis gracious approbation, and to proportion the cities ruled in thatfuture world to the talents faithfully used here. We need not beafraid of obscuring the truth that we are saved 'not of works, lestany man should boast,' though we insist that a Christian man isrewarded according to his works.

Nehemiah had no false notion of his own goodness; for, while he askedfor recompense for these good deeds of his, he could not but add,'Spare me according to the greatness of Thy mercy.' He who asks to be'spared' must know himself in peril of destruction; and he who invokes'mercy' must think that, if he were dealt with according to justice,he would be in evil case. So the consciousness of weakness and sin isan integral part of this prayer, and that takes all the apparentself-righteousness out of the previous petition. However worthy of andsure of reward a Christian man's acts of love and efforts for thespread of God's honour may be, the doer of them must still be 'lookingfor the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life.'

THE BOOK OF ESTHER

THE NET SPREAD

'After these things did king Ahasuerus promote Haman the son ofHammedatha the Agagite, and advanced him, and set his seat above allthe princes that were with him. 2. And all the king's servants, thatwere in the king's gate, bowed, and reverenced Haman: for the king hadso commanded concerning him. But Mordecai bowed not, nor did himreverence. 3. Then the king's servants which were in the king's gate,said unto Mordecai, Why transgressest thou the king's commandment? 4.Now it came to pass, when they spake daily unto him, and he hearkenednot unto them, that they told Haman, to see whether Mordecai's matterswould stand: for he had told them that he was a Jew. 5. And when Hamansaw that Mordecai bowed not, nor did him reverence, then was Hamanfull of wrath. 6. And he thought scorn to lay hands on Mordecai alone;for they had showed him the people of Mordecai: wherefore Haman soughtto destroy all the Jews that were throughout the whole kingdom ofAhasuerus, even the people of Mordecai. 7. In the first month, thatis, the month Nisan, in the twelfth year of king Ahasuerus, they castPur, that is, the lot, before Haman from day to day, and from month tomonth, to the twelfth month, that is, the month Adar. 8. And Hamansaid unto king Ahasuerus, There is a certain people scattered abroadand dispersed among the people in all the provinces of thy kingdom;and their laws are diverse from all people; neither keep they theking's laws: therefore it is not for the king's profit to suffer them.9. If it please the king, let it be written that they may bedestroyed: and I will pay ten thousand talents of silver to the handsof those that have the charge of the business, to bring it into theking's treasuries. 10. And the king took his ring from his hand, andgave it unto Haman the son of Hammedatha the Agagite, the Jews' enemy.11. And the king said unto Haman, The silver is given to thee, thepeople also, to do with them as it seemeth good to thee.'—ESTHER iii.1-11.

The stage of this passage is filled by three strongly marked andstrongly contrasted figures: Mordecai, Haman, and Ahasuerus; a sturdynonconformist, an arrogant and vindictive minister of state, and adespotic and careless king. These three are the visible persons, butbehind them is an unseen and unnamed Presence, the God of Israel, whostill protects His exiled people.

We note, first, the sturdy nonconformist. 'The reverence' which theking had commanded his servants to show to Haman was not simply a signof respect, but an act of worship. Eastern adulation regarded amonarch as in some sense a god, and we know that divine honours werein later times paid to Roman emperors, and many Christians martyredfor refusing to render them. The command indicates that Ahasuerusdesired Haman to be regarded as his representative, and possessing atleast some reflection of godhead from him. European ambassadors toEastern courts have often refused to prostrate themselves before themonarch on the ground of its being degradation to their dignity; butMordecai stood erect while the crowd of servants lay flat on theirfaces, as the great man passed through the gate, because he would haveno share in an act of worship to any but Jehovah. He might havecompromised with conscience, and found some plausible excuses if hehad wished. He could have put his own private interpretation on theprostration, and said to himself, 'I have nothing to do with themeaning that others attach to bowing before Haman. I mean by it onlydue honour to the second man in the kingdom.' But the monotheism ofhis race was too deeply ingrained in him, and so he kept 'a stiffbackbone' and 'bowed not down.'

That his refusal was based on religious scruples is the naturalinference from his having told his fellow-porters that he was a Jew.That fact would explain his attitude, but would also isolate him stillmore. His obstinacy piqued them, and they reported his contumacy tothe great man, thus at once gratifying personal dislike, racialhatred, and religious antagonism, and recommending themselves to Hamanas solicitous for his dignity. We too are sometimes placed incirc*mstances where we are tempted to take part in what may be calledconstructive idolatry. There arise, in our necessary co-operation withthose who do not share in our faith, occasions when we are expected tounite in acts which we are thought very straitlaced for refusing todo, but which, conscience tells us, cannot be done without practicaldisloyalty to Jesus Christ. Whenever that inner voice says 'Don't,' wemust disregard the persistent solicitations of others, and be ready tobe singular, and run any risk rather than comply. 'So did not I,because of the fear of God,' has to be our motto, whateverfellow-servants may say. The gate of Ahasuerus's palace was not afavourable soil for the growth of a devout soul, but flowers can bloomon dunghills, and there have been 'saints' in 'Caesar's household.'

Haman is a sharp contrast to Mordecai. He is the type of the unworthycharacters that climb or crawl to power in a despotic monarchy,vindictive, arrogant, cunning, totally oblivious of the good of thesubjects, using his position for his own advantage, and ferociouslycruel. He had naturally not noticed the one erect figure among thecrowd of abject ones, but the insignificant Jew became important whenpointed out. If he had bowed, he would have been one more nobody, buthis not bowing made him somebody who had to be crushed. The childishburst of passion is very characteristic, and not less true to life isthe extension of the anger and thirst for vengeance to 'all the Jewsthat were throughout the whole kingdom of Ahasuerus.' They were 'thepeople of Mordecai,' and that was enough. 'He thought scorn to layhands on Mordecai alone.' What a perverted notion of personal dignitywhich thought the sacrifice of the one offender beneath it, and couldonly be satisfied by a blood-bath into which a nation should beplunged! Such an extreme of frantic lust for murder is only possiblein such a state as Ahasuerus's Persia, but the prostitution of publicposition to personal ends, and the adoption of political measures atthe bidding of wounded vanity, and to gratify blind hatred of a race,is possible still, and it becomes all Christian men to use theirinfluence that the public acts of their nation shall be clear of thattaint.

Haman was as superstitious as cruel, and so he sought for auguriesfrom heaven for his hellish purpose, and cast the lot to find thefavourable day for bringing it about. He is not the only one who hassought divine approval for wicked public acts. Religion has been usedto varnish many a crime, and Te Deums sung for many a victorywhich was little better than Haman's plot.

The crafty denunciation of the Jews to the king is a good specimen ofthe way in which a despot is hoodwinked by his favourites, and madetheir tool. It was no doubt true that the Jews' laws were 'diversefrom those of every people,' but it was not true that they did not'keep the king's laws,' except in so far as these required worship ofother gods. In all their long dispersion they have been remarkable fortwo things,—their tenacious adherence to the Law, so far as possiblein exile, and their obedience to the law of the country of theirsojourn. No doubt, the exiles in Persian territory presented the samecharacteristics. But Haman has had many followers in resenting thedistinctiveness of the Jew, and charging on them crimes of which theywere innocent. From Mordecai onwards it has been so, and Europe isto-day disgraced by a crusade against them less excusable thanHaman's. Hatred still masks itself under the disguise of politicalexpediency, and says, 'It is not for the king's profit to sufferthem.'

But the true half of the charge was a eulogium, for it implied thatthe scattered exiles were faithful to God's laws, and were marked offby their lives. That ought to be true of professing Christians. Theyshould obviously be living by other principles than the world adopts.The enemy's charge 'shall turn unto you for a testimony.' Happy shallwe be if observers are prompted to say of us that 'our laws arediverse' from those of ungodly men around us!

The great bribe which Haman offered to the king is variously estimatedas equal to from three to four millions sterling. He, no doubt,reckoned on making more than that out of the confiscation of Jewishproperty. That such an offer should have been made by the chiefminister to the king, and that for such a purpose, reveals a depth ofcorruption which would be incredible if similar horrors were notrecorded of other Eastern despots. But with Turkey still astonishingthe world, no one can call Haman's offer too atrocious to be true.

Ahasuerus is the vain-glorious king known to us as Xerxes. His conductin the affair corresponds well enough with his known character. Thelives of thousands of law-abiding subjects are tossed to the favouritewithout inquiry or hesitation. He does not even ask the name of the'certain people,' much less require proof of the charge against them.The insanity of weakening his empire by killing so many of itsinhabitants does not strike him, nor does he ever seem to think thathe has duties to those under his rule. Careless of the sanctity ofhuman life, too indolent to take trouble to see things with his owneyes, apparently without the rudiments of the idea of justice, hewallowed in a sty of self-indulgence, and, while greedy of adulationand the semblance of power, let the reality slip from his hands intothose of the favourite, who played on his vices as on an instrument,and pulled the strings that moved the puppet. We do not produce kingsof that sort nowadays, but King Demos has his own vices, and is aseasily blinded and swayed as Ahasuerus. In every form of government,monarchy or republic, there will be would-be leaders, who seek to gaininfluence and carry their objects by tickling vanity, operating onvices, calumniating innocent men, and the other arts of the demagogue.Where the power is in the hands of the people, the people is very aptto take its responsibilities as lightly as Ahasuerus did his, and tolet itself be led blindfold by men with personal ends to serve, andhiding them under the veil of eager desire for the public good.Christians should 'play the citizen as it becomes the gospel ofChrist,' and take care that they are not beguiled into nationalenmities and public injustice by the specious talk of modern Hamans.

ESTHER'S VENTURE

'Again Esther spake unto Hatach, and gave him commandment untoMordecai: 11. All the king's servants, and the people of the king'sprovinces, do know, that whosoever, whether man or woman, shall comeunto the king into the inner court, who is not called, there is onelaw of his to put him to death, except such to whom the king shallhold out the golden sceptre, that he may live: but I have not beencalled to come in unto the king these thirty days. 12. And they toldto Mordecai Esther's words. 13. Then Mordecai commanded to answerEsther, Think not with thyself that thou shalt escape in the king'shouse, more than all the Jews. 14. For if thou altogether holdest thypeace at this time, then shall there enlargement and deliverance ariseto the Jews from another place; but thou and thy father's house shallbe destroyed: and who knoweth whether thou art come to the kingdom forsuch a time as this? 15. Then Esther bade them return Mordecai thisanswer, 16. Go, gather together all the Jews that are present inShushan, and fast ye for me, and neither eat nor drink three days,night or day: I also and my maidens will fast likewise; and so will Igo in unto the king, which is not according to the law: and if Iperish, I perish. 17. So Mordecai went his way, and did according toall that Esther had commanded him. 'Now it came to pass on the thirdday, that Esther put on her royal apparel, and stood in the innercourt of the king's house, over against the king's house: and the kingsat upon his royal throne in the royal house, over against the gate ofthe house. 2. And it was so, when the king saw Esther the queenstanding in the court, that she obtained favour in his sight: and theking held out to Esther the golden sceptre that was in his hand. SoEsther drew near, and touched the top of the sceptre. 3. Then said theking unto her, What wilt thou, queen Esther? and what is thy request?it shall be even given thee to the half of the kingdom.'-ESTHER iv.10-17; v. 1-3.

Patriotism is more evident than religion in the Book of Esther. Toturn to it after the fervours of prophets and the continualrecognition of God in history which marks the other historical books,is like coming down from heaven to earth, as Ewald says. But thatdifference in tone probably accurately represents the differencebetween the saints and heroes of an earlier age and the Jews inPersia, in whom national feeling was stronger than devotion. Thepicture of their characteristics deducible from this Book shows manyof the traits which have marked them ever since,—accommodatingflexibility, strangely united with unbending tenacity; a capacity forsecuring the favour of influential people, and willingness to stretchconscience in securing it; reticence and diplomacy; and, beneath all,unquenchable devotion to Israel, which burns alike in the politicMordecai and the lovely Esther.

There is not much audible religion in either, but in this lessonMordecai impressively enforces his assurance that Israel cannotperish, and his belief in Providence setting people in their placesfor great unselfish ends; and Esther is ready to die, if need be, intrying to save her people, and thinks that fasting and prayer willhelp her in her daring attempt. These two cousins, unlike in so much,were alike in their devotion to Israel; and though they said littleabout their religion, they acted it, which is better.

It is very like Jews that the relationship between Mordecai and Esthershould have been kept dark. Nobody but one or two trusted servantsknew that the porter was the queen's cousin, and probably her Jewishbirth was also unknown. Secrecy is, no doubt, the armour of oppressednations; but it is peculiarly agreeable to the descendants of Jacob,who was a master of the art. There must have been wonderfulself-command on both sides to keep such a secret, and true affection,to preserve intercourse through apparent indifference.

Our passage begins in the middle of Esther's conversation with theconfidential go-between, who told her of the insane decree for thedestruction of the Jews, and of Mordecai's request that she shouldappeal to the king. She reminds him of what he knew well enough, thelaw that unsummoned intruders into the presence are liable to death;and adds what, of course, he did not know, that she had not beensummoned for a month. We need not dwell on this ridiculously arrogantlaw, but may remark that the substantial accuracy of the statement isconfirmed by classical and other authors, and may pause for a momentto note the glimpse given here of the delirium of self-importance inwhich these Persian kings lived, and to see in it no small cause oftheir vices and disasters. What chance of knowing facts or of living awholesome life had a man shut off thus from all but lickspittles andslaves? No wonder that the victims of such dignity beat the sea withrods, when it was rude enough to wreck their ships! No wonder thatthey wallowed in sensuality, and lost pith and manhood! No wonder thatGreece crushed their unwieldy armies and fleets!

And what a glimpse into their heart-emptiness and degradation ofsacred ties is given in the fact that Esther the queen had not seenAhasuerus for a month, though living in the same palace, and hisfavourite wife! No doubt, the experiences of exile had something to doin later ages with the decided preference of the Jew for monogamy.

But, passing from this, we need only observe how clearly Esther seesand how calmly she tells Mordecai the tremendous risk which followinghis counsel would bring. Note that she does not refuse. She simplyputs the case plainly, as if she invited further communication. 'Thisis how things stand. Do you still wish me to run the risk?' That ispoor courage which has to shut its eyes in order to keep itself up tothe mark. Unfortunately, the temperament which clearly sees dangersand that which dares them are not often found together in dueproportion, and so men are over-rash and over-cautious. This youngqueen with her clear eyes saw, and with her brave heart was ready toface, peril to her life. Unless we fully realise difficulties anddangers beforehand, our enthusiasm for great causes will ooze out atour fingers' ends at the first rude assault of these. So let us countthe cost before we take up arms, and let us take up arms after we havecounted the cost. Cautious courage, courageous caution, are goodguides. Either alone is a bad one.

Mordecai's grand message is a condensed statement of the great reasonswhich always exist for self-sacrificing efforts for others' good. Hiswords are none the less saturated with devout thought because they donot name God. This porter at the palace gate had not the tongue of apsalmist or of a prophet. He was a plain man, not uninfluenced by hispagan surroundings, and perhaps he was careful to adapt his message tothe lips of the Gentile messenger, and therefore did not moredefinitely use the sacred name.

It is very striking that Mordecai makes no attempt to minimiseEsther's peril in doing as he wished. He knew that she would take herlife in her hand, and he expects her to be willing to do it, as hewould have been willing. It is grand when love exhorts loved ones to acourse which may bring death to them, and lifelong loneliness andquenched hopes to it. Think of Mordecai's years of care over and pridein his fair young cousin, and how many joys and soaring visions wouldperish with her, and then estimate the heroic self-sacrifice heexercised in urging her to her course.

His first appeal is on the lowest ground. Pure selfishness should sendher to the king; for, if she did not go, she would not escape thecommon ruin. So, on the one hand, she had to face certain destruction;and, on the other, there were possible success and escape. It may seemunlikely that the general massacre should include the favourite queen,and especially as her nationality was apparently a secret. But when amob has once tasted blood, its appetite is great and its scent keen,and there are always informers at hand to point to hidden victims. Theargument holds in reference to many forms of conflict with nationaland social evils. If Christian people allow vice and godlessness toriot unchecked, they will not escape the contagion, in some form orother. How many good men's sons have been swept away by theimmoralities of great cities! How few families there are in whichthere is not 'one dead,' the victim of drink and dissipation! How thegodliness of the Church is cooled down by the low temperature around!At the very lowest, self-preservation should enlist all good men in asacred war against the sins which are slaying their countrymen. Ifsmallpox breaks out in the slums, it will come uptown into the grandhouses, and the outcasts will prove that they are the rich man'sbrethren by infecting him, and perhaps killing him.

Mordecai goes back to the same argument in the later part of hisanswer, when he foretells the destruction of Esther and her father'shouse. There he puts it, however, in a rather different light. Thedestruction is not now, as before, her participation in the commontragedy, but her exceptional ruin while Israel is preserved. Theunfaithful one, who could have intervened to save, and did not, willhave a special infliction of punishment. That is true in manyapplications. Certainly, neglect to do what we can do for others doesalways bring some penalty on the slothful coward; and there is no moreshort-sighted policy than that which shirks plain duties ofbeneficence from regard to self.

But higher considerations than selfish ones are appealed to. Mordecaiis sure that deliverance will come. He does not know whence, but comeit will. How did he arrive at that serene confidence? Certainlybecause he trusted God's ancient promises, and believed in theindestructibility of the nation which a divine hand protected. Howdoes such a confidence agree with fear of 'destruction'? The two partsof Mordecai's message sound contradictory; but he might well dread thethreatened catastrophe, and yet be sure that through any disasterIsrael as a nation would pass, cast down, no doubt, but not destroyed.

How did it agree with his earnestness in trying to secure Esther'shelp? If he was certain of the issue, why should he have troubled heror himself? Just for the same reason that the discernment of God'spurposes and absolute reliance on these stimulate, and do notparalyse, devout activity in helping to carry them out. If we are surethat a given course, however full of peril and inconvenience, is inthe line of God's purposes, that is a reason for strenuous effort tocarry it out. Since some men are to be honoured to be His instruments,shall not we be willing to offer ourselves? There is a holy and nobleambition which covets the dignity of being used by Him. They whobelieve that their work helps forward what is dear to God's heart maywell do with their might what they find to do, and not be too carefulto keep on the safe side in doing it. The honour is more than thedanger. 'Here am I; take me,' should be the Christian feeling aboutall such work.

The last argument in this noble summary of motives for self-sacrificefor others' good is the thought of God's purpose in giving Esther herposition. It carries large truth applicable to us all. The source ofall endowments of position, possessions, or capacities, is God. Hispurpose in them all goes far beyond the happiness of the receiver.Dignities and gifts of every sort are ours for use in carrying out Hisgreat designs of good to our fellows. Esther was made queen, not thatshe might live in luxury and be the plaything of a king, but that shemight serve Israel. Power is duty. Responsibility is measured bycapacity. Obligation attends advantages. Gifts are burdens. All menare stewards, and God gives His servants their 'talents,' not forselfish squandering or hoarding, but to trade with, and to pay theprofits to Him. This penetrating insight into the source and intentionof all which we have, carries a solemn lesson for us all.

The fair young heroine's soul rose to the occasion, and responded witha swift determination to her older cousin's lofty words. Her patheticrequest for the prayers of the people for whose sake she was facingdeath was surely more than superstition. Little as she says about herfaith in God, it obviously underlay her courage. A soul that daresdeath in obedience to His will and in dependence on His aid,demonstrates its godliness more forcibly in silence than by manyprofessions.

'If I perish, I perish!' Think of the fair, soft lips set to utterthat grand surrender, and of all the flowery and silken cords whichbound the young heart to life, so bright and desirable as was assuredto her. Note the resolute calmness, the Spartan brevity, the clearsight of the possible fatal issue, the absolute submission. No higherstrain has ever come from human lips. This womanly soul was of thesame stock as a Miriam, a Deborah, Jephthah's daughter; and the samefire burned in her,—utter devotion to Israel because entireconsecration to Israel's God. Religion and patriotism were to herinseparable. What was her individual life compared with her people'sweal and her God's will? She was ready without a murmur to lay heryoung radiant life down. Such ecstasy of willing self-sacrifice raisesits subject above all fears and dissolves all hindrances. It may bewrought out in uneventful details of our small lives, and mayilluminate these as truly as it sheds imperishable lustre over thelovely figure standing in the palace court, and waiting for life ordeath at the will of a sensual tyrant.

The scene there need not detain us. We can fancy Esther's beatingheart putting fire in her cheek, and her subdued excitement making herbeauty more splendid as she stood. What a contrast between her and thearrogant king on his throne! He was a voluptuary, ruined morally byunchecked licence,—a monster, as he could hardly help being, of lust,self will, and caprice. She was at that moment an incarnation ofself-sacrifice and pure enthusiasm. The blind world thought that hewas the greater; but how ludicrous his condescension, how vulgar hispomp, how coarse his kindness, how gross his prodigal promises by theside of the heroine of faith, whose life he held in his capricioushand!

How amazed the king would have been if he had been told that one ofhis chief titles to be remembered would be that moment's interview!Ahasuerus is the type of swollen self-indulgence, which alwaysdegrades and coarsens; Esther is the type of self-sacrifice which asuniformly refines, elevates, and arrays with new beauty and power. Ifwe would reach the highest nobleness possible to us, we must standwith Esther at the gate, and not envy or imitate Ahasuerus on hisgaudy throne. 'He that loveth his life shall lose it; and he thatloseth his life for My sake and the gospel's, the same shall find it.'

MORDECAI AND ESTHER

'For if thou altogether holdest thy peace at this time, then shallthere enlargement and deliverance arise to the Jews from anotherplace; but thou and thy father's house shall be destroyed: and whoknoweth whether thou art come to the kingdom for such a time asthis?'—ESTHER iv. 14.

All Christians are agreed in holding the principles which underlie ourmissionary operations. They all believe that the world is a fallenworld, that without Christ the fallen world is a lost world, that thepreaching of the Gospel is the way to bring Christ to those who needHim, that to the Church is committed the ministry of reconciliation.

These are the grand truths from which the grand missionary enterprisehas sprung. It is not my intention to enlarge on them now. But in thisand in all cases, there are secondary motives besides, and inferior tothose which are derived from the real fundamental principles. We arestimulated to action not only because we hold certain greatprinciples, but because they are reinforced by certain subordinateconsiderations.

It is the duty of all Christians to promote the missionary cause onthe lofty grounds already referred to. Besides that, it may be in aspecial way our duty for some additional reasons drawn frompeculiarities in our condition. Circ*mstances do not make duties, butthey may bring a special weight of obligation on us to do them. Timesagain do not make duties, but they too make a thing a special dutynow. The consideration of consequences may not decide us in matters ofconscience, but it may allowably come in to deter us from what is onhigher grounds a sin to be avoided, or a good deed to be done. Successor failure is an alternative that must not be thought of when we areasking ourselves, 'Ought I to do this?' but when we have answered thatquestion, we may go to work with a lighter heart and a firmer hand ifwe are sure that we are not going to fail.

All these are inferior considerations which do not avail to determineduty and do not go deep enough to constitute the real foundation ofour obligation. They are considerations which can scarcely be shutout, and should be taken in determining the weight of our obligation,in shaping the selection of our duties, in stimulating the zeal andsedulousness with which we do what we know to be right.

To a consideration of some of these secondary reasons for energy inthe work of missions I ask your attention. The verse which I haveselected for my text is spoken by Mordecai to Esther, when urging herto her perilous patriotism. It singularly blends the statesman and thebeliever. He sees that if she selfishly refuses to identify herselfwith her people, in their calamity, the wave that sweeps them awaywill not be stayed outside her royal dwelling; he knows too much ofcourts to think that she can stand against that burst of popular furyshould it break out. But he looks on as a devout man believing God'spromises, and seeing past all instruments; he warns her that'deliverance and enlargement shall arise.' He is no fatalist; hebelieves in man's work, therefore he urges her to let herself be theinstrument by which God's work shall be done. He is no atheist; hebelieves in God's sovereign power and unchangeable faithfulness,therefore he looks without dismay to the possibility of her failure.He knows that if she is idle, all the evil will come on her head, whohas been unfaithful, and that in spite of that God's faithfulnessshall not be made of none effect. He believes that she has been raisedto her position for God's sake, for her brethren's sake, not her own.

'Who knoweth whether thou art come to the kingdom for such a time asthis?' There speaks the devout statesman, the court-experiencedbeliever. He has seen favourites tended and tossed aside, vizierspowerful and beheaded, kings half deified and deserted in their utmostneed. Sitting at the gate there, he has seen generations of Hamans goout and in; he has seen the craft, the cruelty, the lusts which havebeen the apparent causes of the puppets' rise and fall, and he haslooked beyond it all and believed in a Hand that pulled the wires, ina King of Kings who raiseth up one and setteth down another. So hebelieves that his Esther has come to the kingdom by God's appointment,to do God's work at God's time. And these convictions keep him calmand stir her.

We may find here a series of considerations having a special bearingon this missionary work. To them I ask your attention.

I. God gives us our position that we may use it for His cause, for thespread of the Gospel.

In most general terms.

(a) No man has anything for his own sake—no man liveth to himself. Wecome to the kingdom for others. Here we touch the foundation of allauthority; we learn the awful burden of all talents, the dreadfulweight of every gift.

(b) No man receives the Gospel for his own sake. We are notnon-conductors, but stand all linked hand in hand. We are members ofthe body that the blood may flow freely through us. For no loftierreason did God light the candle than that it might give light. We arebeacons kindled to transmit, till every sister light flashes back theray.

(c) We especially have received a position in the world for theconversion of the world. Our national character and position unitethat of the Jew in his two stages—we are set to be the 'light of theworld,' and we are 'tribes of the wandering foot.' Our history, all,has tended to this function, our local position, our laws, ourcommerce. We are citizens of a nation which 'as a nest has found theriches' of the peoples. In every land our people dwell.

Think of our colonies. Think that we are brought into contact withheathen, whether we will or not. We cannot help influencing them.'Through you the name of God is blasphemed amongst the Gentiles.'Think of our sailors. Why this position? What is plainer than that allthis is in order that the Gospel might be spread? God has ever let theGospel follow in the tracks made for it by commercial law.

This object does not exclude others. Our language, our literature, ourother rich spiritual treasures, we hold them all that we may impart.But remember that all these other good things that England has willspread themselves with little effort, people will be glad to get them.But the Gospel will not be spread so. It must be taken to those who donot want it. It must be held forth with outstretched hands to 'adisobedient and gainsaying people.' It is found of them that seek itnot.

Like the Lord we must go to the wanderers, we must find them as theylie panting and thirsty in the wild wilderness. Therefore Christianmen must make special earnest efforts or the work will not be done.They must be as the 'dew that tarrieth not for man, nor waiteth forthe sons of men.'

And again, such action does not involve approval of the means by whichsuch a position has become ours. Mordecai knew what vile passions hadbeen at work to put Esther there, and did not forget poor Vashti, andwe have no need to hide conviction that England's place has often beenwon by wrong, been kept by violence and fraud, that, as she has strodeto empire, her foot has trodden on many a venerable throne unjustlythrown down, and her skirts have been dabbled with 'the blood of poorinnocents,' splashed there with her armed hoof. Be it so!—Still!'Thou makest the wrath of man to praise Thee.' Still—'we are debtorsboth to the Greek and barbarian,' and all the more debtors because ofills inflicted. God has laid on us a solemn responsibility. Over allthe dust of base intrigues, and the smoke of bloody battles, and thehubbub of busy commerce, His hand has been working, and though we havebeen sinful, He has given us a place and a power, mighty and awful. Wehave received these not for our own glory, not that we should boast ofour dominion, not that we should gather tribute of gain and glory fromsubject peoples, not even that we should carry to them the greatthough lesser blessings of language, united order, peaceful commerce,sway over brute nature, but that we should give them what will makethem men—Christ.

We have a work to do, an awful work. To us all as Christians, to usespecially as citizens of this land and members of this race, to usand to our brethren across the Atlantic the message comes, by ourhistory, our manners, etc., as plainly as if it were written in everywave that beats around our coast. 'Ye are my witnesses, saith theLord.'

II. God lays upon us special missionary work by the specialcharacteristics of the times.

'Such a time as this!' Was there ever such a time?

Look at the condition of heathenism. It is everywhere tottering. 'Theidols are on the beasts, Bel boweth down.' The grim gods sit halffamished already. There is a crack in every temple wall.Mahommedanism, Buddhism, Brahminism—they are none of themprogressive. They are none of them vital. Think how only the Gospeloutleaps space and time. How all these systems are of time anddevoured by it, as Saturn eats his own children. They are of thethings that can be shaken, and their being shaken makes more certainthe remaining of the things that cannot be shaken.

Look at the fields open. India, China, Japan, Africa, in a word, 'Thefield is the world' in a degree in which it never was before. 'Such atime'—a time of seething, and we can determine the cosmos; a plastictime, and we can mould it; it is a deluge, push the ark boldly out andransom some.

III. If we neglect the voice of God's providence, harm comes on us.

The gifts unimproved are apt to be lost. One knows not all theconditions on which England holds her sway, nor do we fathom thestrange way in which spiritual characteristics are inwrought withmaterial interests. But we believe in a providential government of theworld, and of this we may be very sure, that all advantages not usedfor God are held by a very precarious tenure.

The fact is that selfishness is the ruin of any people. When you havea 'Christian' nation not using their position for God's glory, theyare using it for their own sakes; and that indicates a state of mindwhich will lead to numberless other evils in their relation to men,many of which have a direct tendency to rob them of their advantages.For instance, a selfish nation will never hold conquests with a firmgrasp. If we do not bind subject peoples to us by benefits, we shallrepel them by hatreds. Think of India and its lessons, or of SouthAfrica and its. We have seen the tide of material prosperity ebb awayfrom many a nation and land, and I for my part believe in the Hand ofGod in history, and believe that the tide follows the motions of theheavens.

The history of the Jewish people is not an exception to the laws ofGod's government of the world, but a specimen of it. They who weremade a hearth in which the embers of divine truth were kept in a darkworld, when they began to think that they had the truth in order thatthey might be different from other people, and forgot that they weredifferent from others in order that they might first preserve and thenimpart the truth to all, lost the light and heat of it, stiffened intoformal hypocrisy and malice and all uncharitableness, and then theRoman sword smote their national life in twain.

Whatever is not used for God becomes a snare first, then injures thepossessors, and tends to destroy the possessors. The march ofProvidence goes on. Its purposes will be effected. Whatever stands inthe way will be mowed remorselessly down, if need be. Helps that havebecome hindrances will go. The kingdoms of this world will have tofall; and if we are not helping and hasting the coming of the Lord weshall be destroyed by the brightness of His coming. The chariot rollson. For men and for nations there is only the choice of yokingthemselves to the car, and finding themselves borne along rather thanbearing it, and partaking the triumph, or of being crushed beneath itsawful wheels as they bound along their certain road, bearing Him whorides 'forth prosperously because of truth and meekness andrighteousness.'

IV. Though we be unfaithful, God's purpose of mercy to the world shallbe accomplished.

'Deliverance and enlargement shall arise from another place.' So it iscertain that God from eternity has willed that all flesh should seeHis salvation. He loves the heathen better than we do. Christ has diednot for our sins only, but for the sins of the whole world. God hathmade of one blood all nations of men. The race is one in its need. Therace is one in its goal. The Gospel is fit for all men. The Gospel ispreached to all men. The Gospel shall yet be received by a world, andfrom every corner of a believing earth will rise one roll of praise toone Father, and the race shall be one in its hopes, one in its Lord,one in faith, one in baptism, one in one God and Father of us all.That grand unity shall certainly come. That true unity and fraternityshall be realised. The blissful wave of the knowledge of the Lordshall cover and hide and flow rejoicingly over all nationaldistinctions. 'In that day Israel shall be the third with Egypt andwith Assyria, a blessing in the midst of the earth.'

This is as certain as the efficacy of a Saviour's blood can make it,as certain as the universal adaptation and design of a preached Gospelcan make it, as certain as the oneness of human nature can make it, ascertain as the power of a Comforter who shall convince the world ofsin, of righteousness, and judgment can make it, as certain as themisery of man can make it, as certain as the promises of God whocannot lie can make it, as certain as His faithfulness who hangs therainbow in the heavens and enters into an everlasting covenant withall the earth can make it.

And this accumulation of certainties does not depend on thefaithfulness of men. In the width of that mighty result the failure ofsome single agent may be eliminated. Nay, more, though all men failed,God hath instruments, and will use them Himself, if need were.

Only we may share the triumph and partake of the blessed result.Decide for yourself, what share you will have in that marvellous day.Let your work be such as that it shall abide. Stonehenge, cathedrals,temples stand when all else has passed away. Work for God abides andoutlasts everything beside, and the smallest service for Him is onlymade to flash forth light by the glorifying and revealing fires ofthat awful day which will burn up the wood, the hay, and the stubble,and flow with beautifying brightness and be flashed back with doublesplendour from 'the gold, the silver, and the precious stones,' theabiding workmanship of devout hearts in that everlasting tabernaclewhich shall not be taken down, the ransomed souls builded together,ransomed by our preaching, and 'builded up together for a temple ofGod by the Spirit.'

THE NET BROKEN

'And Esther spake yet again before the king, and fell down at hisfeet, and besought him with tears to put away the mischief of Hamanthe Agagite, and his device that he had devised against the Jews. 4.Then the king held out the golden sceptre toward Esther. So Estherarose, and stood before the king, 5. And said, If it please the king,and if I have found favour in his sight, and the thing seem rightbefore the king, and I be pleasing in his eyes, let it be written toreverse the letters devised by Haman the son of Hammedatha theAgagite, which he wrote to destroy the Jews which are in all theking's provinces: 6. For how can I endure to see the evil that shallcome unto my people? or how can I endure to see the destruction of mykindred? 7. Then the king Ahasuerus said unto Esther the queen, and toMordecai the Jew, Behold, I have given Esther the house of Haman, andhim they have hanged upon the gallows, because he laid his hand uponthe Jews. 8. Write ye also for the Jews, as it liketh you, in theking's name, and seal it with the king's ring: for the writing whichis written in the king's name, and sealed with the king's ring, may noman reverse. 15. And Mordecai went out from the presence of the kingin royal apparel of blue and white, and with a great crown of gold,and with a garment of fine linen and purple: and the city of Shushanrejoiced and was glad. 16. The Jews had light, and gladness, and joy,and honour. 17. And in every province, and in every city,whithersoever the king's commandment and his decree came, the Jews hadjoy and gladness, a feast and a good day. And many of the people ofthe land became Jews; for the fear of the Jews fell uponthem.'—ESTHER viii. 3-8,15-17.

The spirit of this passage may perhaps be best caught by taking thethree persons appearing in it, and the One who does not appear, butacts unseen through them all.

I. The heroine of the whole book and of this chapter is Esther, one ofthe sweetest and noblest of the women of Scripture. The orphan girlwho had grown up into beauty under the care of her uncle Mordecai, andwas lifted suddenly from sheltered obscurity into the 'fierce lightthat beats upon a throne,' like some flower culled in a shady nook andset in a king's bosom, was true to her childhood's protector and toher people, and kept her sweet, brave gentleness unspoiled by therapid elevation which ruins so many characters. Her Jewish name ofHadassah ('myrtle') well befits her, for she is clothed withunostentatious beauty, pure and fragrant as the blossoms that bridestwine in their hair. But, withal, she has a true woman's courage whichis always ready to endure any evil and dare any danger at the biddingof her heart. She took her life in her hand when she sought anaudience of Ahasuerus uninvited, and she knew that she did. Nothing inliterature is nobler than her quiet words, which measure her dangerwithout shrinking, and front it without heroics: 'If I perish, Iperish!'

The danger was not past, though she was queen and beloved; for adespot's love is a shifting sand-bank, which may yield anchorageto-day, and to-morrow may be washed away. So she counted not her lifedear unto herself when, for the second time, as in our passage, sheventured, uninvited, into the king's presence. The womanly couragethat risks life for love's sake is nobler than the soldier's thatfeels the lust of battle maddening him.

Esther's words to the king are full of tact. She begins with whatseems to have been the form of address prescribed by custom, for it isused by her in her former requests (chap. v. 8; vii. 3). But she addsa variation of the formula, tinged with more personal reference to theking's feeling towards her, as well as breathing entire submission tohis estimate of what was fitting. 'If the thing seem right before theking,' appeals to the sense of justice that lay dormant beneath themonarch's arbitrary will; 'and I be pleasing in his eyes,' drew him bythe charm of her beauty. She avoided making the king responsible forthe plot, and laid it at the door of the dead and discredited Haman.It was his device, and since he had fallen, his policy could bereversed without hurting the king's dignity. And then with fine tact,as well as with a burst of genuine feeling, she flings all herpersonal influence into the scale, and seeks to move the king, not byappeals to his justice or royal duty, but to his love for her, whichsurely could not bear to see her suffer. One may say that it was a lowmotive to appeal to, to ask the despot to save a people in order tokeep one woman from sorrow; and so it was. It was Ahasuerus's faultthat such a reason had more weight with him than nobler ones. It wasnot Esther's that she used her power over him to carry her point. Sheused the weapons that she had, and that she knew would be efficacious.The purpose for which she used them is her justification.

Esther may well teach her sisters to-day to be brave and gentle, touse their influence over men for high purposes of public good, to bethe inspirers of their husbands, lovers, brothers, for all noblethinking and doing; to make the cause of the oppressed their own, tobe the apostles of mercy and the hinderers of wrong, to keep true totheir early associations if prosperity comes to them, and to cherishsympathy with their nation so deep that they cannot 'endure to see theevil that shall come unto them' without using all their womanlyinfluence to avert it.

II. Ahasuerus plays a sorry part beside Esther. He knows no law buthis own will, and that is moved, not by conscience or reason, but byignoble passions and sensual desires. He tosses his subjects' lives astrivial gifts to any who ask for them. Haman's wife knew that he hadonly to 'speak to the king,' and Mordecai would be hanged; Haman hadno difficulty in securing the royal mandate for the murder of all theJews. Sated with the indulgence of low desires, he let all power slipfrom his idle hands, and his manhood was rotted away by wallowing inthe pigsty of voluptuousness. But he was tenacious of the semblance ofauthority, and demanded the appearance of abject submission from the'servants' who were his masters. He yielded to Esther's prayer aslightly as to Haman's plot. Whether the Jews were wiped out or notmattered nothing to him, so long as he had no trouble in the affair.

To shift all responsibility off his own shoulders on to somebodyelse's was his one aim. He was as untrue to his duty when he gave hissignet to Mordecai, and bade him and Esther do as they liked, as whenhe had given it to Haman. And with all this slothful indifference tohis duty, he was sensitive to etiquette, and its cobwebs held him whomthe cords of his royal obligations could not hold. It mattered not tohim that the edict which he allowed Mordecai to promulgate practicallylit the flames of civil war. He had washed his hands of the wholebusiness.

It is a hideous picture of an Eastern despot, and has been said to beunhistorical and unbelievable. But the world has seen many examples ofrulers whom the possession of unlimited and irresponsible power hascorrupted in like fashion. And others than rulers may take the warningthat to live to self is the mother of all sins and crimes; that no mancan safely make his own will and his own passions his guides; thatthere is no slavery so abject as that of the man who is tyrannised byhis lower nature; that there is a temptation besetting us all to takethe advantages and neglect the duties of our position, and that toyield to it is sure to end in moral ruin. We are all kings, even ifour kingdom be only our own selves, and we shall rule wisely only ifwe rule as God's viceroys, and think more of duty than of delight.

III. Mordecai is a kind of duplicate of Joseph, and embodies valuablelessons. Contented acceptance of obscurity and neglect of hisservices, faithfulness to his people and his God in the foulatmosphere of such a court, wise reticence, patient discharge of smallduties, undoubting hope when things looked blackest fed by stedfastfaith in God, unchangedness of character and purpose when lifted tosupreme dignity, the use of influence and place, not for himself, butfor his people,—all these are traits which may be imitated in anylife. We should be the same men, whether we sit unnoticed among thelackeys at the gate, or are bearing the brunt of the hatred ofpowerful foes, or are clothed 'in royal apparel of blue and white, andwith a great crown of gold.' These gauds were nothing to Mordecai, andearthly honours should never turn our heads. He valued power becauseit enabled him to save his brethren, and we should cultivate the samespirit. The political world, with its fierce struggles for personalends, its often disregard of the public good, and its use of place andpower for 'making a pile' or helping relations up, would be much thebetter for some infusion of the spirit of Mordecai.

IV. But we must not look only at the visible persons and forces. Thisbook of Esther does not say much about God, but His presence broodsover it all, and is the real spring that moves the movers that areseen. It is all a lesson of how God works out His purposes through menthat seem to themselves to be working out theirs. The king's criminalabandonment to lust and luxury, Haman's meanly personal pique,Esther's beauty, the fall of the favourite, the long past services ofMordecai, even the king's sleepless night, are all threads in the web,and God is the weaver. The story raises the whole question of thestanding miracle of the co-existence and co-operation of the divineand the human. Man is free and responsible, God is sovereign andall-pervading. He 'makes the wrath of man to praise Him, and with theremainder thereof He girdeth Himself.' To-day, as then, He is workingout His deep designs through men whom He has raised up, though theyhave not known Him. Amid the clash of contending interests and worldlypassions His solemn purpose steadily advances to its end, like theirresistible ocean current, which persists through all storms thatagitate the surface, and draws them into the drift of its silenttrend. Ahasuerus, Haman, Esther, Mordecai, are His instruments, andyet each of them is the doer of his or her deed, and has to answer toHim for it.

THE BOOK OF JOB

SORROW THAT WORSHIPS

'Naked came I out of my mother's womb, and naked shall I returnthither: the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be thename of the Lord.'—JOB i. 21.

This book of Job wrestles with the problem of the meaning of themystery of sorrow. Whether history or a parable, its worth is thesame, as tortured hearts have felt for countless centuries, and willfeel to the end. Perhaps no picture that was ever painted is granderand more touching than that of the man of Uz, in the antique wealthand happiness of his brighter days, rich, joyful, with his childrenround him, living in men's honour, and walking upright before God.Then come the dramatic completeness and suddenness of his greattrials. One day strips him of all, and stripped of all he rises to aloftier dignity, for there is a majesty as well as an isolation in hissorrow.

How many spirits tossed by afflictions have found peace in thesewords! How many quivering lips have tried to utter their grave, calmaccents! To how many of us are they hallowed by memories of times whenthey stood between us and despair!

They seem to me to say everything that can be said about our trialsand losses, to set forth the whole truth of the facts, and to presentthe whole series of feelings with which good men may and should beexercised.

I. The vindication of sorrow.

He 'rent his clothes'—the signs and tokens of inward desolation andloss.

It is worth our while to stay for one moment with the thought that weare meant to feel grief. God sends sorrows in order that they maypain. Sorrow has its manifold uses in our lives and on our hearts. Itis natural. That is enough. God set the fountain of tears in oursouls. We are bidden not to 'despise the chastening of the Lord.' Itis they who are 'exercised' thereby to whom the chastisem*nt isblessed.

It is sanctioned by Christ. He wept. He bade the women of Jerusalemweep for themselves and for their children.

Religion does not destroy the natural emotions—sorrow as little asany other. It guides, controls, curbs, comforts, and brings blessingsout of it. So do not aim at an impossible stoicism, but permit natureto have its way, and look at the picture of this manly sorrow ofJob's—calm, silent, unless when stung by the undeserved reproaches ofthese three 'orthodox liars for God,' and going to God andworshipping.

II. The recognition of loss and sorrow as the law of life.

'Naked came I out of my mother's womb.'

We need not dwell on the figure 'mother,' suggesting the grave as thekindly mother's bosom that gathers us all in, and the thought thatperhaps gleams forth that death, too, is a kind of birth.

But the truth picturesquely set forth is just the old and simpleone—that all possessions are transient.

The naked self gets clothed and lapped round with possessions, butthey are all outside of it, apart from its individuality. It has beenwithout them. It will be without them. Death at the end will rob us ofthem all.

The inevitable law of loss is fixed and certain. We are losingsomething every moment—not only possessions, but all our dearest tiesare knit but for a time, and sure to be snapped. They go, and thenafter a while we go.

The independence of each soul of all its possessions and relations isas certain as the loss of them. They may go and we are made naked, butstill we exist all the same. We have to learn the hard lesson whichsounds so unfeeling, that we can live on in spite of all losses.Nothing, no one, is necessary to us.

All this is very cold and miserable; it is the standing point of lawand necessity. An atheist could say it. It is the beginning of theChristian contemplation of life, but only the beginning.

III. The recognition of God in the law.

'The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away.' That is a step farbeyond the former. To bring in the thought of the Lord makes aworld of difference.

The tendency is to look only at the second cause. In Job's case therewere two classes of agencies, men, Chaldeans and Sabeans, and naturalcauses, fire and wind, but he did not stop with these.

The grand corrective of that tendency lies in the full theistic idea,that God is the sole cause of all. The immanence of Deity in allthings and events is our refuge from the soul-crushing tyranny of thereign of law.

That devout recognition of God in law is eminently to be made inregard to death, as Job does in the text: 'The number of his months iswith Thee.' Death is not any more nor any less under His control thanall other human incidents are. It has no special sanctity, norabnormally close connection with His will, but it no more is exemptfrom such connection than all the other events of life. The connectionis real. He opens the gate of the grave and no man shuts. He shuts,and no man opens.

Job did not forget the Lord's gifts even while he was writhing underthe stroke of His withdrawings. Alas! that it should so often needsorrow to bear into our hearts that we owe all to Him, but even then,if not before, it is well to remember how much good we have receivedof the Lord, and the remembrance should not be 'a sorrow's crown ofsorrow,' but a thankful one.

IV. The thankful resignation to God's loving administration of thelaw.

The preceding words might be said with mere submission to anirresistible power, but this last sentence climbs to the highest ofthe true Christian idea. It recognises in loss and sorrow a reason forpraise.

Why?

Because we may be sure that all loss is for our good.

Because we may be sure that all loss is from a loving God. In loss ofdear ones, our gain is in drawing nearer to God, in beingtaught more to long for heaven. In our relation to them, a loftierlove, a hallowing of all the past. Their gain is in theirentrance to heaven, and all the glory that they have reached.

This blessing of God for loss is not inconsistent with sorrow, butanticipates the future when we shall know all and bless Him for all.

THE PEACEABLE FRUITS OF SORROWS RIGHTLY BORNE

'Behold, happy is the man whom God correcteth: therefore despise notthou the chastening of the Almighty: 18. For He maketh sore, andbindeth up: He woundeth, and His hands make whole. 19. He shalldeliver thee in six troubles: yea, in seven there shall no evil touchthee. 20. In famine He shall redeem thee from death: and in war fromthe power of the sword. 21. Thou shalt be hid from the scourge of thetongue: neither shalt thou be afraid of destruction when it cometh.22. At destruction and famine thou shalt laugh: neither shalt thou beafraid of the beasts of the earth. 23. For thou shalt be in leaguewith the stones of the field: and the beasts of the field shall be atpeace with thee. 24. And thou shalt know that thy tabernacle shall bein peace; and thou shalt visit thy habitation, and shalt not sin. 25.Thou shalt know also that thy seed shall be great, and thine offspringas the grass of the earth. 26. Thou shalt come to thy grave in a fullage, like as a shock of corn cometh in in his season. 27. Lo this, wehave searched it, so it is; hear it, and know thou it for thygood.'—JOB v. 17-27.

The close of the Book of Job shows that his friends' speeches weredefective, and in part erroneous. They all proceeded on the assumptionthat suffering was the fruit of sin—a principle which, though true ingeneral, is not to be unconditionally applied to specific cases. Theyall forgot that good men might be exposed to it, not as punishment,nor even as correction, but as trial, to 'know what was in theirhearts.'

Eliphaz is the best of the three friends, and his speeches embody muchpermanent truth, and rise, as in this passage, to a high level ofliterary and artistic beauty. There are few lovelier passages inScripture than this glowing description of the prosperity of the manwho accepts God's chastisem*nts; and, on the whole, the picture istrue. But the underlying belief in the uniform coincidence of inwardgoodness and outward good needs to be modified by the deeper teachingof the New Testament before it can be regarded as covering all thefacts of life.

Eliphaz is gathering up, in our passage, the threads of his speech. Hebases upon all that he has been saying the exhortation to Job to bethankful for his sorrows. With a grand paradox, he declares the manwho is afflicted to be happy. And therein he strikes an eternally truenote. It is good to be made to drink a cup of sorrow. Flesh calls painevil, but spirit knows it to be good. The list of our blessings is notonly written in bright inks, but many are inscribed in black. And thereason why the sad heart should be a happy heart is because, asEliphaz believed, sadness is God's fatherly correction, intended tobetter the subject of it. 'Whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth,' saysthe Epistle to the Hebrews, in full accord with Eliphaz.

But his well-meant and true words flew wide of their mark, for tworeasons. They were chillingly didactic, and it is vinegar upon nitreto stand over an agonised soul and preach platitudes in anunsympathetic voice. And they assumed unusual sin in Job as theexplanation of his unparalleled pains, while the prologue tells usthat his sufferings were not fruits of his sin, but trials of hisrighteousness. He was horrified at Job's words, which seemed to himfull of rebellion and irreverence; and he made no allowance for thewild cries of an agonised heart when he solemnly warned the suffereragainst 'despising' God's chastening. A more sympathetic ear wouldhave detected the accent of faith in the groans.

The collocation, in verse 18, of making sore and binding up, does notmerely express sequence, but also purpose. The wounding is in order tohealing. The wounds are merciful surgery; and their intention ishealth, like the cuts that lay open an ulcer, or the scratches forvaccination. The view of suffering in these two verses is notcomplete, but it goes far toward completeness in tracing it to God, inasserting its disciplinary intention, in pointing to the divinehealing which is meant to follow, and in exhorting to submission. Wemay recall the beautiful expansion of that exhortation in Hebrews,where 'faint not' is added to 'despise not,' so including the twoopposite and yet closely connected forms of misuse of sorrow,according as we stiffen our wills against it, and try to make light ofit, or yield so utterly to it as to collapse. Either extreme equallymisses the corrective purpose of the grief.

On this general statement follows a charming picture of theblessedness which attends the man who has taken his chastisem*ntrightly. After the thunderstorm come sunshine and blue, and the songof birds. But, lovely as it is, and capable of application in manypoints to the life of every man who trustfully yields to God's will,it must not be taken as a literally and absolutely true statement ofGod's dealings with His children. If so regarded, it would hopelesslybe shattered against facts; for the world is full of instances ofsaintly men and women who have not experienced in their outward livessuch sunny calm and prosperity stretching to old age as are herepromised. Eliphaz is not meant to be the interpreter of the mysteriesof Providence, and his solution is decisively rejected at the close.But still there is much in this picture which finds fulfilment in alldevout lives in a higher sense than his intended meaning.

The first point is that the devout soul is exempt from calamitieswhich assail those around it. These are such as are ordinarily inScripture recognised as God's judgments upon a people. Famine and wardevastate, but the devout soul abides in peace, and is satisfied. Nowit is not true that faith and submission make a wall round a man, sothat he escapes from such calamities. In the supernatural system ofthe Old Testament such exemptions were more usual than with us, thoughthis very Book of Job and many a psalm show that devout hearts hadeven then to wrestle with the problem of the prosperity of the wickedand the indiscriminate fall of widespread calamities on the good andbad.

But in its deepest sense (which, however, is not Eliphaz's sense) thefaithful man is saved from the evils which he, in common with hisfaithless neighbour, experiences. Two men are smitten down by the samedisease, or lie dying on a battlefield, shattered by the same shell,and the one receives the fulfilment of the promise, 'there shall noevil touch thee,' and the other does not. For the evil in the evil isall sucked out of it, and the poison is wiped off the arrow whichstrikes him who is united to God by faith and submission. Two womenare grinding at the same millstone, and the same blow kills them both;but the one is delivered, and the other is not. They who pass throughan evil, and are not drawn away from God by it, but brought nearer toHim, are hid from its power. To die may be our deliverance from death.

Eliphaz's promises rise still higher in verses 22 and 23, in which isset forth a truth that in its deepest meaning is of universalapplication. The wild beasts of the earth and the stones of the fieldwill be in league with the man who submits to God's will. Of coursethe beasts come into view as destructive, and the stones as injuringthe fertility of the fields. There is, probably, allusion to the storyof Paradise and the Fall. Man's relation to nature was disturbed bysin; it will be rectified by his return to God. Such a doctrine of theeffects of sin in perverting man's relation to creatures runs allthrough Scripture, and is not to be put aside as mere symbolism.

But the large truth underlying the words here is that, if we areservants of God, we are masters of everything. 'All things worktogether for good to them that love God.' All things serve the soulthat serves God; as, on the other hand, all are against him that doesnot, and 'the stars in their courses fight against' those who fightagainst Him. All things are ours, if we are Christ's. The manymediaeval legends of saints attended by animals, from St. Jeromeand his lion downwards to St. Francis preaching to the birds, echo thethoughts here. A gentle, pure soul, living in amity with dumbcreatures, has wonderful power to attract them. They who are at peacewith God can scarcely be at war with any of God's creatures.Gentleness is stronger than iron bands. 'Cords of love' draw mostsurely.

Peace and prosperity in home and possessions are the next blessingspromised (ver. 24). 'Thou shalt visit [look over] thy household, andshalt miss nothing.' No cattle have strayed or been devoured by evilbeasts, or stolen, as all Job's had been. Alas! Eliphaz knew nothingabout commercial crises, and the great system of credit by which onescoundrel's fall may bring down hundreds of good men and patientwidows, who look over their possessions and find nothing but worthlessshares. Yet even for those who find all at once that the herd is cutoff from the stall, their tabernacle may still be in peace, and thoughthe fold be empty they may miss nothing, if in the empty place theyfind God. That is what Christians may make out of the words; but it isnot what was originally meant by them.

In like manner the next blessing, that of a numerous posterity, doesnot depend on moral or religious condition, as Eliphaz would make out,and in modern days is not always regarded as a blessing. But note thesingular heartlessness betrayed in telling Job, all whose flocks andherds had been carried off, and his children laid dead in theirfestival chamber, that abundant possessions and offspring were thetoken of God's favour. The speaker seems serenely unconscious that hewas saying anything that could drive a knife into the tortured man. Heis so carried along on the waves of his own eloquence, and so absorbedin stringing together the elements of an artistic whole, that heforgets the very sorrows which he came to comfort. There are not a fewpious exhorters of bleeding hearts who are chargeable with the samesin. The only hand that will bind up without hurting is a hand that issympathetic to the finger-tips. No eloquence or poetic beauty orpresentation of undeniable truths will do as substitutes for that.

The last blessing promised is that which the Old Testament places sohigh in the list of good things—long life. The lovely metaphor inwhich that promise is couched has become familiar to us all. The ripecorn gathered into a sheaf at harvest-time suggests festival ratherthan sadness. It speaks of growth accomplished, of fruit matured, ofthe ministries of sun and rain received and used, and of a joyfulgathering into the great storehouse. There is no reference in thespeech to the uses of the sheaf after it is harvested, but we canscarcely avoid following its history a little farther than the 'grave'which to Eliphaz seems the garner. Are all these matured powers tohave no field for action? Were all these miracles of vegetation set inmotion only in order to grow a crop which should be reaped, and therean end? What is to be done with the precious fruit which has taken solong time and so much cultivation to grow? Surely it is not theintention of the Lord of the harvest to let it rot when it has beengathered. Surely we are grown here and ripened and carried hence forsomething.

But that is not in our passage. This, however, may be drawn fromit—that maturity does not depend on length of days; and, howeverEliphaz meant to promise long life, the reality is that the devoutsoul may reckon on complete life, whether it be long or short. Godwill not call His children home till their schooling is done; and,however green and young the corn may seem to our eyes, He knows whichheads in the great harvest-field are ready for removal, and gathersonly these. The child whose little coffin may be carried under a boy'sarm may be ripe for harvesting. Not length of days, but likeness toGod, makes maturity; and if we die according to the will of God, itcannot but be that we shall come to our grave in a full age, whateverbe the number of years carved on our tombstones.

The speech ends with a somewhat self-complacent exhortation to thepoor, tortured man: 'We have searched it, so it is.' We wise menpledge our wisdom and our reputation that this is true. Great isauthority. An ounce of sympathy would have done more to commend thedoctrine than a ton of dogmatic self-confidence. 'Hear it, and knowthou it for thyself.' Take it into thy mind. Take it into thy mind andheart, and take it for thy good. It was a frosty ending, exasperatingin its air of patronage, of superior wisdom, and in its lack of anynote of feeling. So, of course, it set Job's impatience alight, andhis next speech is more desperate than his former. When willwell-meaning comforters learn not to rub salt into wounds while theyseem to be dressing them?

TWO KINDS OF HOPE

'Whose hope shall be cut off, and whose trust shall be a spider'sweb.'—JOB viii. 14.

'And hope maketh not ashamed.'—ROMANS v. 5.

These two texts take opposite sides. Bildad was not the wisest ofJob's friends, and he gives utterance to solemn commonplaces withpartial truth in them. In the rough it is true that the hope of theungodly perishes, and the limits of the truth are concealed by thesplendour of the imagery and the perfection of artistic form in whichthe well-worn platitude is draped. The spider's web stretchedglittering in the dewy morning on the plants, shaking its threadedtears in the wind, the flag in the dry bed of a nullah withering whileyet green, the wall on which leaning a man will fall, are vividillustrations of hopes that collapse and fail. But my other text hasto do with hopes that do not fail. Paul thinks that he knows of hopethat maketh not ashamed, that is, which never disappoints. Bildad wasright if he was thinking, as he was, of hopes fixed on earth; theApostle was right, for he was thinking of hopes set on God. It is acommonplace that 'hope springs immortal in the human breast'; it isequally a commonplace that hopes are disappointed. What is theconclusion from these two universal experiences? Is it the cynical onethat it is all illusion, or is it that somewhere there must be anobject on which hope may twine its tendrils without fear? God hasgiven the faculty, and we may be sure that it is not given to be forever balked. We must hope. Our hope may be our worst enemy; it may andshould be our purest joy.

Let us then simply consider these two sorts of hope, the earthly andthe heavenly, in their working in the three great realms of life,death, and eternity.

I. In life.

The faculty is inseparable from man's consciousness of immortality andof an indefinitely expansible nature which ever makes him discontentedwith the present. It has great purposes to perform in strengtheninghim for work, in helping him over sorrows, in making him buoyant andelastic, in painting for him the walls of the dungeon, and hiding forhim the weight of the fetters.

But for what did he receive this great gift? Mainly that he might passbeyond the temporal and hold converse with the skies. Its true sphereis the unseen future which is at God's right hand.

We may run a series of antitheses, e.g.—

Earthly hope is so uncertain that its larger part is often fear.

Heavenly hope is fixed and sure. It is as certain as history.

Earthly hope realised is always less blessed than we expected. Howuniversal the experience that there is little to choose between agratified and a frustrated hope! The wonders inside the caravan arenever so wonderful as the canvas pictures outside.

Heavenly hopes ever surpass the most rapturous anticipation. 'The halfhath not been told.'

Earthly hopes are necessarily short-winged. They are settled one wayor another, and sink hull down below our horizon.

Heavenly hope sets its object far off, and because a lifetime onlyattains it in part, it blesses a lifetime and outlasts it.

II. Hope in death.

That last hour ends for us all alike our earthly joys and relations.The slow years slip away, and each bears with it hopes that have beenoutlived, whether fulfilled or disappointed. One by one the lightsthat we kindle in our hall flicker out, and death quenches the last ofthem. But there is one light that burns on clear through the articleof death, like the lamp in the magician's tomb. 'The righteous hathhope in his death.' We can each settle for ourselves whether we shallcarry that radiant angel with her white wings into the great darkness,or shall sadly part with her before we part with life. To the earthlysoul that last earthly hour is a black wall beyond which it cannotlook. To the God-trusting soul the darkness is peopled withbright-faced hopes.

III. Hope in eternity.

It is not for our tongues to speak of what must, in the naturalworking out of consequences, be the ultimate condition of a soul whichhas not set its hopes on the God who alone is the right Object of theblessed but yet awful capacity of hoping, when all the fleetingobjects which it sought as solace and mask of its own true poverty areclean gone from its grasp. Dante's tremendous words are more thanenough to move wholesome horror in any thinking soul: 'Leave hopebehind, all ye who enter here.' They are said to be unfeeling, grim,and mediaeval, incredible in this enlightened age; but is there anyway out of them, if we take into account what our nature is moulded toneed and cling to, and what 'godless' men have done with it?

But let us turn to the brighter of these texts. 'Hope maketh notashamed.' There will be an internal increase of blessedness, power,purity in that future, a fuller possession of God, a reaching outafter completer likeness to Him. So if we can think of days in thatcalm state where time will be no more, 'to-morrow shall be as this dayand much more abundant,' and the angel Hope, who kept us companythrough all the weary marches of earth, will attend on us still, onlyhaving laid aside the uncertainty that sometime veiled her smiles, butretaining all the buoyant eagerness for the ever unfolding wonderswhich gave us courage and cheer in the days of our flesh.

JOB'S QUESTION, JESUS' ANSWER

'If a man die, shall he live again?'—JOB xiv. 14.

'… I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in Me,though he were dead, yet shall he live: 26. And whosoever liveth andbelieveth in Me shall never die.'—JOHN xi. 25, 26.

Job's question waited long for an answer. Weary centuries rolled away;but at last the doubting, almost despairing, cry put into the mouth ofthe man of sorrows of the Old Testament is answered by the Man ofSorrows of the New. The answer in words is this second text which mayalmost be supposed to allude to the ancient question. The answer, infact, is the resurrection of Christ. Apart from this answer there isnone.

So we may take these two texts to help us to grasp more clearly andfeel more profoundly what the world owes to that great fact which weare naturally led to think of to-day.

I. The ancient and ever returning question.

The Book of Job is probably a late part of the Old Testament. It dealswith problems which indicate some advance in religious thought. Solemnand magnificent, and for the most part sad; it is like a Titanstruggling with large problems, and seldom attaining to positiveconclusions in which the heart or the head can rest in peace. Here allJob's mind is clouded with a doubt. He has just given utterance to anintense longing for a life beyond the grave. His abode in Sheol isthought of as in some sense a breach in the continuity of hisconsciousness, but even that would be tolerable, if only he could besure that, after many days, God would remember him. Then that longinggives way before the torturing question of the text, which dashesaside the tremulous hope with its insistent interrogation. It is notdenial, but it is a doubt which palsies hope. But though he has nocertainty, he cannot part with the possibility, and so goes on toimagine how blessed it would be if his longing were fulfilled. Hethinks that such a renewed life would be like the 'release' of asentry who had long stood on guard; he thinks of it as his swift,joyous 'answer' to God's summons, which would draw him out from thesad crowd of pale shadows and bring him back to warmth and reality.His hope takes a more daring flight still, and he thinks of God asyearning for His creature, as His creature yearns for Him, and having'a desire to the work of His hands,' as if His heaven would beincomplete without His servant. But the rapture and the vision pass,and the rest of the chapter is all clouded over, and the devout hopeloses its light. Once again it gathers brightness in the twenty-firstchapter, where the possibility flashes out starlike, that 'after myskin hath been thus destroyed, yet from my flesh shall I see God.'

These fluctuations of hope and doubt reveal to us the attitude ofdevout souls in Israel at a late era of the national life. And if theyshow us their high-water mark, we need not suppose that similar soulsoutside the Old Testament circle had solid certainty where these hadbut a variable hope. We know how large a development the doctrine of afuture life had in Assyria and in Egypt, and I suppose we are entitledto say that men have always had the idea of a future. They have alwayshad the thought, sometimes as a fear, sometimes as a hope, but neveras a certainty. It has lacked not only certainty but distinctness. Ithas lacked solidity also, the power to hold its own and sustain itselfa*gainst the weighty pressure of intrusive things seen and temporal.

But we need not go to the ends of the earth or to past generations forexamples of a doubting, superficial hold of the truth that man livesthrough death and after it. We have only to look around us, and, alas!we have only to look within us. This age is asking the question again,and answering it in many tones, sometimes of indifferent disregard,sometimes flaunting a stark negative without reasoned foundation,sometimes with affirmatives with as little reason as these negatives.The modern world is caught in the rush and whirl of life, has its ownsorrows to front, its own battles to fight, and large sections of ithave never come as near an answer to Job's question as Job did.

II. Christ's all-sufficing answer.

He gave it there, by the grave of Lazarus, to that weeping sister, butHe spoke these great words of calm assurance to all the world. Onecannot but note the difference between His attitude in the presence ofthe great Mystery and that of all other teachers. How calmly,certainly, and confidently He speaks!

Mark that Jesus, even at that hour of agony, turns Martha's thoughtsto Himself. What He is is the all-important thing for her to know. Ifshe understands Him, life and death will have no insoluble problemsnor any hopelessness for her. 'I am the Resurrection and the Life.'She had risen in her grief to a lofty height in believing that 'evennow'—at this moment when help is vain and hope is dead—'whatsoeverthou wilt ask of God, God will give it thee,' but Jesus offers to hera loftier conception of Him when He lays a sovereign hand onresurrection and life, and discloses that both inhere in Him, and fromHim flow to all who shall possess them. He claims to have in Himselfthe fountain of life, in all possible senses of the word, as well asin the special sense relevant at that sad hour. Further, He tellsMartha that by faith in Him any and all may possess that life. Andthen He majestically goes on to declare that the life which He givesis immune from, and untouched by, death. The believer shall livethough he dies, the living believer shall never die. It is clear that,in these two great statements, to die is used in two differentmeanings, referring in the former case to the physical fact, and inthe latter carrying a heavier weight of significance, namely thepregnant sense which it usually has in this Gospel, of separation fromGod and consequently from the true life of the soul. Physical death isnot the termination of human life. The grim fact touches only thesurface life, and has nothing to do with the essential, personalbeing. He that believes on Jesus, and he only, truly lives, and hisunion with Jesus secures his possession of that eternal life, whichvictoriously persists through the apparent, superficial change whichmen call death. Nothing dies but the death which surrounds thefaithful soul. For it to die is to live more fully, more triumphantly,more blessedly. So though the act of physical death remains, its wholecharacter is changed. Hence the New Testament euphemisms for death aremuch more than euphemisms. Men christen it by names which drape itsugliness, because they fear it so much, but Faith can play withLeviathan, because it fears it not at all. Hence such names as'sleep,' 'exodus,' are tokens of the victory won for all believers byJesus. He will show Martha the hope for all His followers which beginsto dawn even in the calling of her brother back from the grip ofdeath. And He shows us the great truth that His being the 'Life'necessarily involved His being also the 'Resurrection,' for Hislife-communicating work could not be accomplished till Hisall-quickening vitality had flowed over into, and flooded with its ownconquering tides, not only the spirit which believes but its humblecompanion, the soul, and its yet humbler, the body. A bodily life isessential to perfect manhood, and Jesus will not stay His hand tillevery believer is full-summed in all his powers, and is perfect inbody, soul, and spirit, after the image of Him who redeemed Him.

III. The pledge for the truth of the answer.

The words of Jesus are only words. These precious words, spoken tothat one weeping sister in a little Jewish village, and which havebrought hope to millions ever since, are as baseless as all the otherdreams and longings of the heart, unless Jesus confirms them by fact.If He did not rise from the dead, they are but another of the noble,exalted, but futile delusions of which the world has many others. IfChrist be not risen, His words of consolation are swelling words ofemptiness; His whole claims are ended, and the age-old question whichJob asked is unanswered still, and will always remain unanswered. IfChrist be not risen, the hopeless colloquy between Jehovah and theprophet sums up all that can be said of the future life: 'Son of man,can these bones live?' And I answered, 'O Lord God, Thou knowest!'

But Christ's resurrection is a fact which, taken in connection withHis words while on earth, endorses these and establishes His claims tobe the Declarer of the name of God, the Saviour of the world. It givesus demonstration of the continuity of life through and after death.Taken along with His ascension, which is but, so to speak, theprolongation of the point into a line, it declares that a glorifiedbody and an abode in a heavenly home are waiting for all who by faithbecome here partakers in Jesus and are quickened by sharing in Hislife.

So in despite of sense and doubt and fear, notwithstanding teacherswho, like the supercilious philosophers on Mars Hill, mock when theyhear of a resurrection from the dead, we should rejoice in the greatlight which has shined into the region of the shadow of death, weshould clasp His divine and most faithful answer to that old,despairing question, as the anchor of our souls, and lift up ourhearts in thanksgiving in the triumphant challenge, 'O death! where isthy sting? O grave! where is thy victory?'

KNOWLEDGE AND PEACE

'Acquaint now thyself with Him, and be at peace: thereby good shallcome unto thee.'—JOB xxii. 21.

In the sense in which the speaker meant them, these words are nottrue. They mean little more than 'It pays to be religious.' What kindof notion of acquaintance with God Eliphaz may have had, one scarcelyknows, but at any rate, the whole meaning of the text on his lips ispoor and selfish.

The peace promised is evidently only outward tranquillity and freedomfrom trouble, and the good that is to come to Job is plainly mereworldly prosperity. This strain of thought is expressed even moreclearly in that extraordinary bit of bathos, which with solemn ironythe great dramatist who wrote this book makes this Eliphaz utterimmediately after the text, 'The Almighty shall be thy defenceand—thou shalt have plenty of silver!' It has not been left forcommercial Englishmen to recommend religion on the ground that itproduces successful merchants and makes the best of both worlds.

These friends of Job's all err in believing that suffering is alwaysand only the measure of sin, and that you can tell a man's great guiltby observing his great sorrows. And so they have two main subjects onwhich they preach at their poor friend, pouring vitriol into hiswounds: first, how wicked he must be to be so haunted by sorrows;second, how surely he will be delivered if he will only be religiousafter their pattern, that is, speak platitudes of conventionaldevotion and say, I submit.

This is the meaning of our text as it stands. But we may surely find ahigher sense in which it is true and take that to heart.

I. What is acquainting oneself with God?

The first thing to note is that this acquaintance depends on us. Sothen there must have been a previous objective manifestation on Hispart. Of course there must be a God to know, and there must be a wayof knowing Him. For us Jesus Christ is the Revealer. What men know ofGod apart from Him is dim, shadowy, indistinct; it lacks certainty,and so is not knowledge. I venture to say that there is nothingbetween cultivated men and the loss of certain knowledge of God andconviction of His Being, but the historical revelation of JesusChrist. The Christ reveals the inmost character of God, and that notin words but in deeds. Without Him no man knows God; 'No man knoweththe Father save the Son, and he to whom the Son will reveal Him.'

So then the objective revelation having been made, we must on our partembrace that revelation as ours. The act of so accepting begins withthe familiar act of faith, which includes both an exercise of theunderstanding, as it embraces the facts of Christ's revelation of theFather, and of the will as it casts itself upon and submits to Him.But that exercise of faith is but the point which has to be drawn outinto a golden line, woven into the whole length of a life. And it isin the continuity of that line that the average Christian so sadlyfails, and because of that failure his acquaintance with God is sodistant. How little time or thought we give to the character of God asrevealed in Jesus Christ! We must be on intimate terms with Him. Toknow God, as to know a man, we must 'live with' Him, must summer andwinter with Him, must bring Him into the pettinesses of daily life,must let our love set to Him, must be in sympathy with Him, our willsbeing tuned to make harmony with His, our whole nature being in accordwith His. That is work more than enough for a lifetime, enough to taskit, enough to bless it.

II. The peace of acquaintance with God.

Eliphaz meant nothing more than mere earthly tranquillity andexemption from trouble, but his words are true in a far loftierregion.

Knowledge of God as He really is brings peace, because His heart isfull of love. We do but need to know the actual state of the heart ofGod towards us to be lapped and folded in peace that nothing outsideof God and ourselves can destroy. If we lived under the constantbenediction of the deepest truth in the universe, 'God is love,' ourpeace would be full. That is enough, if we believe it to bring peace.The thought of God which alarms and terrifies cannot be a truethought. But, alas! in proportion as we know ourselves, it becomesdifficult to believe that God is love. The stings of conscience hissprophecies to us of that in God which cannot but be antagonistic tothat in us which conscience condemns. Only when our thought of God isdrawn from the revelation of Him in Jesus Christ, does it becomepossible for any man to grasp in one act of his consciousness theconviction, I am a sinner, and the conquering conviction, God is Love,and only Love to me. So the old exhortation, 'Acquaint thyself withGod and be at peace,' comes to be in Christian language: 'Behold Godin Jesus, and thou shalt possess the peace of God to keep thy heartand mind.'

Knowledge of God gives peace, because in it we find the satisfactionof our whole nature. Thereby we are freed from the unrest oftumultuous passions and storms of self-will. The internecine warbetween the better and the worse selves within ceases to rage, andwhen we have become God's friends, that in us which is meant to rulerules, and that in us which is meant to serve serves, and the innerkingdom is no longer torn asunder but is harmonised with itself.

Knowledge of God brings peace amid all changes, for he who has God forhis continual Companion draws little of his supplies from without, andcan be tranquil when the seas roar and are troubled and the mountainsare cast into the midst of the sea. He bears all his treasures withhim, and need fear no loss of any real good. And at last the angel ofpeace will lead us through the momentary darkness and guide us, aftera passing shadow on our path, into 'the land of peace wherein wetrusted,' while yet in the land of warfare. Jesus still whispers theancient salutation with which He greeted the company in the upper roomon the evening of the day of resurrection, as He comes to His servantshere, and it will be His welcome to them when He receives them above.

III. The true good from acquaintance with God.

As we have already said, Eliphaz was only thinking, on Old Testamentlines, that prosperity in material things was the theocratic reward ofallegiance to Jehovah. He was rubbing vitriol into Job's sores, andavowedly regarding him as a fear-inspiring instance of the converseprinciple. But we have a better meaning breathed into his words, sinceJesus has taught us what is the true good for a man all the days ofhis life. Acquaintance with God is, not merely procures, good. To knowHim, to clasp Him to our hearts as our Friend, our Infinite Lover, ourSource of all peace and joy, to mould our wills to His and let Himdominate our whole selves, to seek our wellbeing in Him alone—whatelse or more can a soul need to be filled with all good? Acquaintancewith God brings Him in all His sufficiency to inhabit else emptyhearts. It changes the worst, according to the judgment of sense, intothe best, transforming sorrow into loving discipline, interpreting itsmeaning, fitting us to 'bear it, and securing to us its blessings. Tohim that is a friend of God,

'All is right that seems most wrong
If it be His sweet will.'

To be acquainted with God is the quintessence of good. 'This is lifeeternal, to know Thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom Thouhast sent.'

WHAT LIFE MAY BE MADE

'For then shalt thou have thy delight in the Almighty, and shalt liftup thy face unto God. 27. Thou shalt make thy prayer unto Him, and Heshall hear thee, and thou shalt pay thy vows. 28. Thou shalt alsodecree a thing, and it shall be established unto thee: and the lightshall shine upon thy ways. 29. When men are cast down, then thou shaltsay, … lifting up; and He shall save the humble person.'—JOB xxii.26-29.

These words are a fragment of one of the speeches of Job's friends, inwhich the speaker has been harping on the old theme that affliction isthe consequence and evidence of sin. He has much ado to square histheory with facts, and especially with the fact which brought him toJob's dunghill. But he gets over the difficulty by the simple methodof assuming that, since his theory must be true, there must be unknownfacts which vindicate it in Job's case; and since affliction is a signof sin, Job's afflictions are proof that he has been a sinner. So hecharges him with grossest crimes, without a shadow of other reason;and after having poured this oil of vitriol into his wounds by way ofconsolation, he advises him to be good, on the decidedly low andselfish ground that it will pay.

His often-quoted exhortation, 'Acquaint thyself with God, and be atpeace: thereby good shall come unto thee,' is, in his meaning of it,an undisguised appeal to purely selfish considerations, and itspromise is not in accordance with facts. Whether that saying is nobleand true or ignoble and false, depends on the meanings attached to'peace' and 'good.' A similar flaw mars the words of our text, asunderstood by the speaker. But they can be raised to a higher levelthan that on which he placed them, and regarded as describing thesweet and wonderful prerogatives of the devout life. So understood,they may rebuke and stimulate and encourage us to make our livesconformed to the ideal here.

I. I note, first, that life may be full of delight and confidence in
God.

'Then shalt thou delight thyself in the Almighty, and shalt lift upthy face unto God.' Now when we 'delight' in a thing or a person, werecognise that that thing, or person, fits into a cleft in our hearts,and corresponds to some need in our natures. We not only recognise itsgood, sweetness, and adaptation to ourselves, but we actually possessin real fruition the sweetness that we recognise, and the good whichwe apprehend in it. And so these things, the recognition of thesupreme sweetness and all-perfect adaptation and sufficiency of God toall that I need; the suppression of tastes and desires which mayconflict with that sweetness, and the actual enjoyment and fruition ofthe sweetness and preciousness which I apprehend—these things are thevery heart of a man's religion. Without delight in God, there is noreal religion.

The bulk of men are so sunken and embruted in animal tastes andsensuous desires and fleeting delights, that they have no care for thepure and calm joys which come to those who live near God. But abovethese stand the men, of whom there are a good many amongst us, whosereligion is a matter of fear or of duty or of effort. And above themthere stand the men who serve because they trust God, but whosereligion is seeking rather than finding, and either from deficientconsecration or from false conceptions of Him and of their relation toHim, is overshadowed by an unnatural and unwholesome gloom. And allthese kinds of religion, the religion of fear, of duty, of effort, ofseeking, and of doubt fighting with faith, are at the best wofullyimperfect, and are, some of them, radically erroneous types of thereligious life. He is the truly devout man who not only knows God tobe great and holy, but feels Him to be sweet and sufficient; who notonly fears, but loves; who not only seeks and longs, but possesses;or, in one word, true religion is delighting in God.

So herein is supplied a very sharp test for us. Do our tastes andinclinations set towards Him, and is He better to us than anythingbeside? Is God to me my dearest faith, the very home of my heart, towhich I instinctively turn? Is the brightness of my day the light ofHis face? Is He the gladness of my joy? Is my Christianity amill-horse round of service that I am not glad to render? Do I worshipbecause I think it is duty, and are my prayers compulsory andmechanical; or do I worship because my heart goes out to Him? And ismy life calm and sweet because I 'delight in the Lord'?

The next words of my text will help us to answer. 'Thou shalt lift upthy face unto God.' That is a clear enough metaphor to express frankconfidence of approach to Him. The head hangs down in theconsciousness of demerit and sin. 'Mine iniquities have taken holdupon me,' wailed the Psalmist, 'so that I am not able to look up.' Butit is possible for men to go into God's presence with a sense ofpeace, and to hold up their heads before their Judge and look Him inthe eyes and not be afraid. And unless we have that confidence in Him,not because of our merits, but because of His certain love, there willbe no 'delight in the Lord.' And there will be no such confidence inHim unless we have 'access with confidence by faith' in that Christwho has taken away our sins, and prepared the way for us into theFather's presence, and by whose death and sacrifice, and by it alone,we sinful men, with open face and uplifted foreheads, can stand toreceive upon our visage the full beams of His light, and expatiate andbe glad therein. There is no religion worth naming, of which theinmost characteristic is not delight in God. There is no 'delightingin God' possible for sinful men unless they can come to Him with frankconfidence, and there is no such confidence possible for us unless weapprehend by faith, and thereby make our own, the great work of JesusChrist our Lord.

II. So, secondly, note, such a life of delighting in God will beblessed by the frankest intercourse with Him.

'Thou shalt make thy prayer unto Him, and He shall hear thee, and thoushalt pay thy vows.' These are three stages of this blessed communionthat is possible for men. And note, prayer is not regarded in thisaspect as duty, nor is it even dwelt upon as privilege, but as beingthe natural outcome and issue of that delighting in God and confidentaccess to Him which have preceded. That is to say, if a man really hasset his heart on God, and knows that in Him is all that he needs,then, of course, he will tell Him everything. As surely as thesunshine draws out the odours from the opening petals of the flowers,will the warmth of the felt divine light and love draw from our heartsthe sweet confidence, which it is impossible not to give to Him inwhom we delight.

If you have to be driven to prayer by a sense of duty, and if there beno impulse in your heart whispering ever to you, 'Tell your Love aboutit!' you have much need to examine into the reality, and certainlyinto the depth of your religion. For as surely as instinctive impulse,which needs no spurring from conscience or will, leads us to breatheour confidences to those that we love best, and makes us restlesswhilst we have a secret hid from them, so surely will a true love toGod make it the most natural thing in the world to put all ourcirc*mstances, wants, and feeling into the shape of prayers. They maybe in briefest words. They may scarcely be vocalised at all, but therewill be, if there be a true love to Him, an instinctive turning to Himin every circ*mstance; and the single-worded cry, if it be no more,for help is sufficient. The arrow may be shot towards Heaven, thoughit be but slender and short, and it will reach its goal.

For my text goes on to the second stage, 'He shall hear thee.' Thatwas not true as Eliphaz meant it. But it is true if we remember thepreceding conditions. The fundamental passage, which I supposeunderlies part, at least, of our text, is that great word in thepsalm, 'Delight thyself in the Lord, and He shall give thee thedesires of thine heart.' Does that mean that if a man loves God he mayget everything he wants? Yes! and No! If it is supposed to mean thatour religion is a kind of key to God's storehouse, enabling us to goin there and rifle it at our pleasure, then it is not true; if itmeans that a man who delights himself in God will have his supremedesire set upon God, and so will be sure to get it, then it is true.Fulfil the conditions and you are sure of the promise. If our prayerin its deepest essence be 'Not my will, but Thine,' it will beanswered. When the desires of our heart are for God, and forconformity to His will, as they will be when we 'delight ourselves inHim,' then we get our heart's desires. There is no promise of ourbeing able to impose our wills upon God, which would be a calamity,and not a blessing, but a promise that they who make Him their joy andtheir desire will never be defrauded of their desire nor robbed oftheir joy.

And so the third stage of this frank intercourse comes. 'Thou shaltpay thy vows.' All life may become a thank-offering to God for thebenefits that have flowed unceasing from His hands. First a prayer,then the answer, then the rendered thank-offering. Thus, in swiftalternation and reciprocity, is carried on the commerce between Heavenand earth, between man and God. The desires rise to Heaven, but Heavencomes down to earth first; and prayer is not the initial stage, butthe second, in the process. God first gives His promise, and the bestprayer is the catching up of God's promise and tossing it back againwhence it came. Then comes the second downward motion, which is theanswer to prayer, in blessing, and on it follows, finally, thereflection upwards, in thankful surrender and service, of the lovethat has descended on us, in answer to our desires. So like sunbeamsfrom a mirror, or heat from polished metal, backwards and forwards, incontinual alternation and reciprocation of influence and of love,flash and travel bright gleams between the soul and God. 'Truthsprings out of the earth, and righteousness looks down from Heaven.Our God shall give that which is good, and the earth shall yield herincrease.' Is there any other life of which such alternation is theprivilege and the joy?

III. Then thirdly, such a life will neither know failure nor darkness.

'Thou shalt also decree a thing, and it shall be established untothee, and the light shall shine upon thy ways.' Then is my will to beomnipotent, and am I to be delivered from the experiences ofdisappointments and failures and frustrated plans that are common toall humanity, and an essential part of its discipline, because I am aChristian man? Eliphaz may have meant that, but we know something farnobler. Again, I say, remember the conditions precedent. First of all,there must be the delight in God, and the desire towards Him, thesubmission of the will to Him, and the waiting before Him forguidance. I decree a thing—if I am a true Christian, and in themeasure in which I am—only when I am quite sure that God has decreedit. And it is only His decrees, registered in the chancery of my will,of which I may be certain that they shall be established. There willbe no failures to the man whose life's purpose is to serve God, and togrow like Him; but if our purpose is anything less than that, or if wego arbitrarily and self-willedly resolving and saying, 'Thus I will;thus I command; let my will stand instead of all reason,' we shallhave our contemptuous 'decrees' disestablished many a time. If we runour heads against stone walls in that fashion, the walls will stand,and our heads will be broken. To serve Him and to fall into the lineof His purpose, and to determine nothing, nor obstinately wantanything until we are sure that it is His will—that is the secret ofnever failing in what we undertake.

We must understand a little more deeply than we are apt to do what ismeant by 'success,' before we predict unfailing success for any man.But if we have obeyed the commandment from the psalm already quoted,which may be again alluded to in the words of my text—'Commit thy wayunto the Lord; trust also in Him'—we shall inherit the ancientpromise, 'and He shall bring it to pass.' 'All things work togetherfor good to them that love God,' and in the measure of our love to Himare our discernment and realisation of what is truly good. Religiongives no screen to keep the weather off us, but it gives us an insightinto the truth that storms and rain are good for the only crop that isworth growing here. If we understand what we are here for, we shall bevery slow to call sorrow evil, and to crown joy with the exclusivetitle of blessing and good; and we shall have a deeper canon ofinterpretation for the words of my text than he who is represented asspeaking them ever dreamed of.

So with the promise of light to shine upon our paths. It is 'the lightwhich never was on sea or land,' and not the material light whichsense-bound eyes can see. That may all go. But if we have God in ourhearts, there will be a light upon our way 'which knows novariableness, neither shadow of turning.' The Arctic winter, sunlessthough it be, has a bright heaven radiant with myriad stars, andflashing with strange lights born of no material or visible orb. Andso you and I, if we delight ourselves 'in the Lord,' will have anunsetting sun to light our paths; 'and at eventide,' and in themirkest midnight, 'there will be light' in the darkness.

IV. Lastly, such a life will be always hopeful, and finally crownedwith deliverance.

'When they'—that is, the ways that he has been speaking about—'whenthey are cast down, thou shalt say, Lifting up.' That is anexclamation or a prayer, and we might simply render, 'thou shalt say,Up!' Even in so blessed a life as has been described, times will comewhen the path plunges downwards into some 'valley of the shadow ofdeath.' But even then the traveller will bate no jot of hope. He willin his heart say 'Up!' even while sense says 'Down!' either asexpressing indomitable confidence and good cheer in the face ofdepressing circ*mstances, or as pouring out a prayer to Him who 'hasshowed him great and sore troubles' that He would 'bring him up againfrom the depths of the earth.' The devout life is largely independentof circ*mstances, and is upheld and calmed by a quiet certainty thatthe general trend of its path is upward, which enables it to trudgehopefully down an occasional dip in the road.

Such an obstinate hopefulness and cheery confidence are the naturalresult of the experiences already described in the text. If we delightin God, hold communion with Him and have known Him as answeringprayer, prospering our purposes and illuminating our paths, how shallwe not hope? Nothing need depress nor perturb those whose joys andtreasures are safe above the region of change and loss. If our richesare there where neither moth, rust, nor thieves can reach, our heartswill be there also, and an inward voice will keep singing, 'Lift upyour heart.' It is the prerogative of experience to light up thefuture. It is the privilege of Christian experience to make hopecertainty. If we live the life outlined in these verses we shall beable to bring June into December, and feel the future warmth whilstour bones are chilled with the present cold. 'When the paths are madelow, thou shalt say, Up!'

And the end will vindicate such confidence. For the issue of all willbe, 'He will save the humble person'; namely, the man who is of thecharacter described, and who is 'lowly of eyes' in consciousunworthiness, even while he lifts up his face to God in confidence inhis Father's love. The 'saving' meant here is, of course, temporaryand temporal deliverance from passing outward peril. But we maypermissibly give it wider and deeper meaning. Continuous partialdeliverances lead on to and bring about final full salvation.

We read that into the words, of course. But nothing less than acomplete and conclusive deliverance can be the legitimate end of theexperience of the Christian life here. Absurdity can no further gothan to suppose that a soul which has delighted itself in God, andlooked in His face with frank confidence, and poured out his desiresto Him, and been the recipient of numberless answers, and the seat ofnumberless thank-offerings, has travelled along life's common way incheerful godliness, has had the light of heaven shining on the path,and has found an immortal hope springing as the natural result ofpresent experience, shall at the last be frustrated of all, and liedown in unconscious sleep, which is nothingness. If that were the endof a Christian life, then 'the pillared firmament were rottenness, andearth's base built on stubble.' No, no! A heaven of endlessblessedness and close communion with God is the only possible endingto the facts of the devout life on earth.

We have such a life offered to us all and made possible through faithin Jesus Christ, in whom we may delight ourselves in the Lord, by whomwe have 'access with confidence,' who is Himself the light of ourhope, the answer of our prayers, the joy of our hearts, and who will'deliver us from every evil work' as we travel along the road; 'andsave us' at last 'into His heavenly kingdom,' where we shall be joinedto the Delight of our souls, and drink for evermore of the fountain oflife.

'THE END OF THE LORD'

'Then Job answered the Lord, and said, 2. I know that Thou canst doevery thing, and that no thought can he withholden from Thee. 3. Whois he that hideth counsel without knowledge? therefore have I utteredthat I understood not; things too wonderful for me, which I knew not.4. Hear, I beseech Thee, and I will speak: I will demand of Thee, anddeclare Thou unto me. 5. I have heard of Thee by the hearing of theear: but now mine eye seeth Thee. 6. Wherefore I abhor myself, andrepent in dust and ashes. 7. And it was so, that after the Lord hadspoken these words unto Job, the Lord said to Eliphaz the Temanite, Mywrath is kindled against thee, and against thy two friends: for yehave not spoken of Me the thing that is right, as My servant Job hath.8. Therefore take unto you now seven bullocks and seven rams, and goto My servant Job, and offer up for yourselves a burnt offering; andMy servant Job shall pray for you: for him will I accept: lest I dealwith you after your folly, in that ye have not spoken of Me the thingwhich is right, like My servant Job. 9. So Eliphaz the Temanite andBildad the Shuhite and Zophar the Naamathite went, and did accordingas the Lord commanded them: the Lord also accepted Job. 10. And theLord turned the captivity of Job, when he prayed for his friends: alsothe Lord gave Job twice as much as he had before.'—JOB xlii. 1-10.

The close of the Book of Job must be taken in connection with itsprologue, in order to get the full view of its solution of the mysteryof pain and suffering. Indeed the prologue is more completely thesolution than the ending is; for it shows the purpose of Job's trialsas being, not his punishment, but his testing. The whole theory thatindividual sorrows were the result of individual sins, in the supportof which Job's friends poured out so many eloquent and heartlesscommonplaces, is discredited from the beginning. The magnificentprologue shows the source and purpose of sorrow. The epilogue in thislast chapter shows the effect of it in a good man's character, andafterwards in his life.

So we have the grim thing lighted up, as it were, at the two ends.Suffering comes with the mission of trying what stuff a man is madeof, and it leads to closer knowledge of God, which is blessed; tolowlier self-estimation, which is also blessed; and to renewed outwardblessings, which hide the old scars and gladden the tortured heart.

Job's final word to God is in beautiful contrast with much of hisformer unmeasured utterances. It breathes lowliness, submission, andcontented acquiescence in a providence partially understood. It doesnot put into Job's mouth a solution of the problem, but shows how itspressure is lightened by getting closer to God. Each verse presents adistinct element of thought and feeling.

First comes, remarkably enough, not what might have been expected,namely, a recognition of God's righteousness, which had been theattribute impugned by Job's hasty words, but of His omnipotence. God'can do everything,' and none of His 'thoughts' or purposes can be'restrained' (Rev. Ver.). There had been frequent recognitions of thatattribute in the earlier speeches, but these had lacked the element ofsubmission, and been complaint rather than adoration. Now, the sameconviction has different companions in Job's mind, and so hasdifferent effects, and is really different in itself. The Titan on hisrock, with the vulture tearing at his liver, sullenly recognisedJove's power, but was a rebel still. Such had been Job's earlierattitude, but now that thought comes to him along with submission, andso is blessed. Its recurrence here, as in a very real sense a newconviction, teaches us how old beliefs may flash out into newsignificance when seen from a fresh point of view, and how the verysame thought of God may be an argument for arraigning and forvindicating His providence.

The prominence given, both in the magnificent chapters in which Godanswers Job out of the whirlwind and in this final confession, topower instead of goodness, rests upon the unspoken principle that 'thedivine nature is not a segment, but a circle. Any one divine attributeimplies all others. Omnipotence cannot exist apart from righteousness'(Davidson's Job, Cambridge Bible for Schools). A mere nakedomnipotence is not God. If we rightly understand His power, we canrest upon it as a Hand sustaining, not crushing, us. 'He doeth allthings well' is a conviction as closely connected with 'I know thatThou canst do all things' as light is with heat.

The second step in Job's confession is the acknowledgment of theincompleteness of his and all men's materials and capacities forjudging God's providence. Verse 3 begins with quoting God's rebuke(Job xxxviii 2). It had cut deep, and now Job makes it his ownconfession. We should thus appropriate as our own God's mercifulindictments, and when He asks, 'Who is it?' should answer withlowliness, 'Lord, it is I.' Job had been a critic; he is a worshipper.He had tried to fathom the bottomless, and been angry because hisshort measuring-line had not reached the depths. But now heacknowledges that he had been talking about what passed hiscomprehension, and also that his words had been foolish in theirrashness.

Is then the solution of the whole only that old commonplace of theunsearchableness of the divine judgments? Not altogether; for theprologue gives, if not a complete, yet a real, key to them. But still,after all partial solutions, there remains the inscrutable element inthem. The mystery of pain and suffering is still a mystery; and whilegeneral principles, taught us even more clearly in the New Testamentthan in this book, do lighten the 'weight of all this unintelligibleworld,' we have still to take Job's language as the last word on thematter, and say, 'How unsearchable are His judgments, and His wayspast finding out!'

For individuals, and on the wider field of the world, God's way is inthe sea; but that does not bewilder those who also know that it isalso in the sanctuary. Job's confession as to his rash speeches is thebest estimate of many elaborate attempts to 'vindicate the ways of Godto man.' It is better to trust than to criticise, better to wait thanto seek prematurely to understand.

Verse 4, like verse 3, quotes the words of God (Job xxxviii. 3; xl.7). They yield a good meaning, if regarded as a repetition of God'schallenge, for the purpose of disclaiming any such presumptuouscontest. But they are perhaps better understood as expressing Job'slonging, in his new condition of humility, for fuller light, and hisnew recognition of the way to pierce to a deeper understanding of themystery, by illumination from God granted in answer to his prayer. Hehad tried to solve his problem by much, and sometimes barely reverent,thinking. He had racked brain and heart in the effort, but he haslearned a more excellent way, as the Psalmist had, who said, 'When Ithought, in order to know this, it was too painful for me, until Iwent into the sanctuary of God; then understood I.' Prayer will domore for clearing mysteries than speculation, however acute, and itwill change the aspect of the mysteries which it does not clear frombeing awful to being solemn—veils covering depths of love, not cloudsobscuring the sun.

The centre of all Job's confession is in verse 5, which contrasts hisformer and present knowledge of God, as being mere hearsay before, andeyesight now. A clearer understanding, but still more, a sense of Hisnearness, and an acquaintance at first hand, are implied in the boldwords, which must not be interpreted of any outward revelation tosense, but of the direct, full, thrilling consciousness of God whichmakes all men's words about Him seem poor. That change was the mastertransformation in Job's case, as it is for us all. Get closer to God,realise His presence, live beneath His eye and with your eyes fixed onHim, and ancient puzzles will puzzle no longer, and wounds will ceaseto smart, and instead of angry expostulation or bewildered attempts atconstruing His dealings, there will come submission, and withsubmission, peace.

The cure for questionings of His providence is experience of Hisnearness, and blessedness therein. Things that loomed large dwindle,and dangers melt away. The landscape is the same in shadow andsunshine; but when the sun comes out, even snow and ice sparkle, andtender beauty starts into visibility in grim things. So, if we seeGod, the black places of life are lighted; and we cease to feel thepressure of many difficulties of speculation and practice, both asregards His general providence and His revelation in law and gospel.

The end of the whole matter is Job's retractation of his words and hisrepentance. 'I abhor' has no object expressed, and is better taken asreferring to the previous speeches than to 'myself.' He means therebyto withdraw them all. The next clause, 'I repent in dust and ashes,'carries the confession a step farther. He recognises guilt in his rashspeeches, and bows before his God confessing his sin. Where are hisassertions of innocence gone? One sight of God has scattered them, asit ever does. A man who has learned his own sinfulness will find fewdifficulties and no occasions for complaint in God's dealings withhim. If we would see aright the meaning of our sorrows, we must lookat them on our knees. Get near to God in heart-knowledge of Him, andthat will teach our sinfulness, and the two knowledges will combine toexplain much of the meaning of sorrow, and to make the unexplainedresidue not hard to endure.

The epilogue in prose which follows Job's confession, tells of thedivine estimate of the three friends, of Job's sacrifice for them, andof his renewed outward prosperity. The men who had tried to vindicateGod's righteousness are charged with not having spoken that which isright; the man who has passionately impugned it is declared to havethus spoken. No doubt, Eliphaz and his colleagues had said a greatmany most excellent, pious things, and Job as many wild and untrueones. But their foundation principle was not a true representation ofGod's providence, since it was the uniform connection of sin withsorrow, and the accurate proportion which these bore to each other.

Job, on the other hand, had spoken truth in his denials of theseprinciples, and in his longings to have the righteousness of God setin clear relation to his own afflictions. We must remember, too, thatthe friends were talking commonplaces learned by rote, while Job'swords came scalding hot from his heart. Most excellent truth may be sospoken as to be wrong; and it is so, if spoken heartlessly, regardlessof sympathy, and flung at sufferers like a stone, rather than laid ontheir hearts as a balm. God lets a true heart dare much in speech; forHe knows that the sputter and foam prove that 'the heart's deeps boilin earnest.'

Job is put in the place of intercessor for the three—a profoundhumiliation for them and an honour for him. They obeyed at once,showing that they have learned their lesson, as well as Job his. Anincidental lesson from that final picture of the sufferer become thepriest requiting accusations with intercession, is the duty ofcherishing kind feelings and doing kind acts to those who say hardthings of us. It would be harder for some of us to offer sacrificesfor our Eliphazes than to argue with them. And yet another is thatsorrow has for one of its purposes to make the heart more tender, bothfor the sorrows and the faults of others.

Note, too, that it was 'when Job prayed for his friends' that the Lordturned his captivity. That is a proverbial expression, bearingwitness, probably, to the deep traces left by the Exodus, forreversing calamity. The turning-point was not merely the confession,but the act, of beneficence. So, in ministering to others, one's owngriefs may be soothed.

The restoration of outward good in double measure is not meant as thestatement of a universal law of Providence, and still less as asolution of the problem of the book. But it is putting the truth thatsorrows, rightly borne, yield peaceable fruit at the last, in the formappropriate to the stage of revelation which the whole bookrepresents; that is, one in which the doctrine of immortality, thoughit sometimes rises before Job's mind as an aspiration of faith, is notset in full light.

To us, living in the blaze of light which Jesus Christ has let intothe darkness of the future, the 'end of the Lord' is that heavenshould crown the sorrows of His children on earth. We can speak oflight, transitory affliction working out an eternal weight of glory.The book of Job is expressing substantially the same expectation, whenit paints the calm after the storm and the restoration in doubleportion of vanished blessings. Many desolate yet trusting sufferersknow how little such an issue is possible for their grief, but if theyhave more of God in clearer sight of Him, they will find empty placesin their hearts and homes filled.

THE PROVERBS

A YOUNG MAN'S BEST COUNSELLOR

'The proverbs of Solomon the son of David, king of Israel; 2. To knowwisdom and instruction; to perceive the words of understanding; 3. Toreceive the instruction of wisdom, justice, and judgment, and equity;4. To give subtilty to the simple, to the young man knowledge anddiscretion, 5. A wise man will hear, and will increase learning; and aman of understanding shall attain unto wise counsels: 6. To understanda proverb, and the interpretation; the words of the wise, and theirdark sayings. 7. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge:but fools despise wisdom and instruction. 8. My son, hear theinstruction of thy father, and forsake not the law of thy mother: 9.For they shall be an ornament of grace unto thy head, and chains aboutthy neck. 10. My son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou not. 11. Ifthey say, Come with us, let us lay wait for blood, let us lurk privilyfor the innocent without cause: 12. Let us swallow them up alive asthe grave; and whole, as those that go down into the pit: 13. We shallfind all precious substance, we shall fill our houses with spoil: 14.Cast in thy lot among us; let us all have one purse: 15. My son, walknot thou in the way with them; refrain thy foot from their path: 16.For their feet run to evil, and make haste to shed blood. 17. (Surelyin vain the net is spread in the sight of any bird:) 18. And they laywait for their own blood; they lurk privily for their own lives. 19.So are the ways of every one that is greedy of gain; which taketh awaythe life of the owners thereof.'—PROV. i. 1-19.

This passage contains the general introduction to the book ofProverbs. It falls into three parts—a statement of the purpose of thebook (vs. 1-6); a summary of its foundation principles, and of theteachings to which men ought to listen (vs. 7-9); and an antitheticstatement of the voices to which they should be deaf (vs. 10-19).

I. The aim of the book is stated to be twofold—to enable men,especially the young, to 'know wisdom,' and to help them to 'discernthe words of understanding'; that is, to familiarise, by the study ofthe book, with the characteristics of wise teachings, so that theremay be no mistaking seducing words of folly for these. These two aimsare expanded in the remaining verses, the latter of them being resumedin verse 6, while the former occupies the other verses.

We note how emphatically the field in which this wisdom is to beexercised is declared to be the moral conduct of life. 'Righteousnessand judgment and equity' are 'wise dealing,' and the end of truewisdom is to practise these. The wider horizon of modern science andspeculation includes much in the notion of wisdom which has no bearingon conduct. But the intellectual progress (and conceit) of to-day willbe none the worse for the reminder that a man may take in knowledgetill he is ignorant, and that, however enriched with science andphilosophy, if he does not practise righteousness, he is a fool.

We note also the special destination of the book—for the young.Youth, by reason of hot blood and inexperience, needs such portablemedicines as are packed in these proverbs, many of them thecondensation into a vivid sentence of world-wide truths. There are fewbetter guides for a young man than this book of homely sagacity, whichis wisdom about the world without being tainted by the bad sort ofworldly wisdom. But unfortunately those who need it most relish itleast, and we have for the most part to rediscover its truths forourselves by our own, often bitter, experience.

We note, further, the clear statement of the way by which incipient'wisdom' will grow, and of the certainty of its growth if it is real.It is the 'wise man' who will 'increase in learning,' the 'man ofunderstanding' who 'attains unto sound counsels.' The treasures arethrown away on him who has no heart for them. You may lavish wisdom onthe 'fool,' and it will run off him like water off a rock, fertilisingnothing, and stopping outside him.

The Bible would not have met all our needs, nor gone with us into allregions of our experience, if it had not had this book of shrewd,practical common-sense. Christianity is the perfection of commonsense. 'Godliness hath promise of the life which now is.' The wisdomof the serpent, which Jesus enjoins, has none of the serpent's venomin it. It is no sign of spirituality of mind to be above such mundaneconsiderations as this book urges. If we hold our heads too high tolook to our road and our feet, we are sure to fall into a pit.

II. Verses 7-9 may be regarded as a summary statement of the principleon which the whole book is based, and of the duty which it enjoins.The principle is that true wisdom is based on religion, and the dutyis to listen to parental instruction. 'My son,' is the address of ateacher to his disciples, rather than of a father to his child. Thecharacteristic Old Testament designation of religion as 'the fear ofJehovah' corresponds to the Old Testament revelation of Him as theHoly One,—that is, as Him who is infinitely separated from creaturalbeing and limitations. Therefore is He 'to be had in reverence of all'who would be 'about Him'; that fear of reverential awe in which noslavish dread mingles, and which is perfectly consistent withaspiration, trust, and love. The Old Testament reveals Him as separatefrom men; the New Testament reveals Him as united to men in the divineman, Christ Jesus. Therefore its keynote is the designation ofreligion as 'the love of God'; but that name is no contradiction ofthe earlier, but the completion of it.

That fear is the beginning or basis of wisdom, because wisdom isconceived of as God's gift, and the surest way to get it is to 'ask ofGod' (Jas. i. 5). Religion is, further, the foundation of wisdom,inasmuch as irreligion is the supreme folly of creatures so dependenton God, and so hungering after Him in the depths of their being, as weare. In whatever directions a godless man may be wise, in the mostimportant matter of all, his relations to God, he is unwise, and theepitaph for all such is 'Thou fool!'

Further, religion is the fountain of wisdom, in the sense of the wordin which this book uses it, since it opens out into principles ofaction, motives, and communicated powers, which lead to rightapprehension and willing discharge of the duties of life. Godless menmay be scientists, philosophers, encyclopaedias of knowledge, but forwant of religion, they blunder in the direction of their lives, andlack wisdom enough to keep them from wrecking the ship on the rocks.

The Israelitish parent was enjoined to teach his or her children thelaw of the Lord. Here the children are enjoined to listen to theinstruction. Reverence for traditional wisdom was characteristic ofthat state of society, and since a divine revelation stood at thebeginning of the nation's history, it was not unreasonable to lookback for light. Nowadays, a belief's being our fathers' is with many areason for not making it ours. But perhaps that is no more rationalthan the blind adherence to the old with which this emancipatedgeneration reproaches its predecessors. Possibly there are some 'oldlamps' better than the new ones now hawked about the streets by somany loud-voiced vendors. The youth of this day have much need of theexhortation to listen to the 'instruction' (by which is meant, notonly teaching by word, but discipline by act) of their fathers, and tothe gentler voice of the mother telling of law in accents of love.These precepts obeyed will be fairer ornaments than jewelled necklacesand wreathed chaplets.

III. On one side of the young man are those who would point him to thefear of Jehovah; on the other are seducing whispers, tempting him tosin. That is the position in which we all stand. It is not enough tolisten to the nobler voice. We have resolutely to stop our ears to thebaser, which is often the louder. Facile yielding to the cunninginducements which strew every path, and especially that of the young,is fatal. If we cannot say 'No' to the base, we shall not say 'Yes' tothe noble voice. To be weak is generally to be wicked; for in thisworld the tempters are more numerous, and to sense and flesh, morepotent than those who invite to good.

The example selected of such enticers is not of the kind that most ofus are in danger from. But the sort of inducements held out are in allcases substantially the same. 'Precious substance' of one sort oranother is dangled before dazzled eyes; jovial companionship drawsyoung hearts. The right or wrong of the thing is not mentioned, andeven murder and robbery are presented as rather pleasant excitement,and worth doing for the sake of what is got thereby. Are the desirableconsequences so sure? Is there no chance of being caught red-handed,and stoned then and there, as a murderer? The tempters are discreetlysilent about that possibility, as all tempters are. Sin alwaysdeceives, and its baits artfully hide the hook; but the cruel barb isthere, below the gay silk and coloured dressing, and it—not the falseappearance of food which lured the fish—is what sticks in thebleeding mouth.

The teacher goes on, in verses 15 to 19, to supply the truth which thetempters tried to ignore. He does so in three weighty sentences, whichstrip the tinsel off the temptation, and show its real ugliness. Theflowery way to which they coax is a way of 'evil'; that should beenough to settle the question. The first thing to ask about any courseis not whether it is agreeable or disagreeable, but Is it right orwrong? Verse 17 is ambiguous, but probably the 'net' means thetempters' speech in verses 11 to 14, and the 'bird' is the young mansupposed to be addressed. The sense will then be, 'Surely you are notfoolish enough to fly right into the meshes, and to go with your eyesopen into so transparent sin!'

Verse 18 points to the grim possibility already referred to, that thewould-be murderers will be caught and executed. But its lesson iswider than that one case, and declares the great solemn truth that allsin is suicide. Who ever breaks God's law slays himself.

What is true about 'covetousness,' as verse 19 tells, is true aboutall kinds of sin—that it takes away the life of those who yield toit, even though it may also fill their purses, or in other ways maygratify their desires. Surely it is folly to pursue a course which,however it may succeed in its immediate aims, brings real death, byseparation from God, along with it. He is not a very wise man who tieshis gold round him when the ship founders. He is not parted from histreasure certainly, but it helps to sink him. We may get what we wantby sinning, but we get also what we did not want or reckon on—thatis, eternal death. 'This their way is their folly.' Yet, strange totell, their posterity 'approve their sayings,' and follow theirdoings.

WISDOM'S CALL

'Wisdom crieth without; she uttereth her voice in the streets: 21. Shecrieth in the chief place of concourse, in the openings of the gates:in the city she uttereth her words, saying, 22. How long, ye simpleones, will ye love simplicity? and the scorners delight in theirscorning, and fools hate knowledge? 23. Turn you at my reproof:behold, I will pour out my Spirit unto you, I will make known my wordsunto you. 24. Because I have called, and ye refused; I have stretchedout my hand, and no man regarded; 25. But ye have set at nought all mycounsel, and would none of my reproof: 26. I also will laugh at yourcalamity; I will mock when your fear cometh; 27. When your fear comethas desolation, and your destruction cometh as a whirlwind; whendistress and anguish cometh upon you. 28. Then shall they call uponme, but I will not answer; they shall seek me early, but they shallnot find me: 29. For that they hated knowledge, and did not choose thefear of the Lord: 30. They would none of my counsel; they despised allmy reproof. 31. Therefore shall they eat of the fruit of their ownway, and be filled with their own devices. 32. For the turning away ofthe simple shall slay them, and the prosperity of fools shall destroythem. 33. But whoso hearkeneth unto me shall dwell safely, and shallbe quiet from fear of evil.'—PROVERBS i. 20-33.

Our passage begins with a striking picture. A fair and queenly womanstands in the crowded resorts of men, and lifts up a voice of sweetentreaty—authoritative as well as sweet. Her name is Wisdom. The wordis in the plural in the Hebrew, as if to teach that in this serene andlovely form all manifold wisdoms are gathered and made one. Who thenis she? It is easy to say 'a poetical personification,' but that doesnot add much to our understanding. It is clear that this book meansmuch more by Wisdom than a human quality merely; for august and divineattributes are given to her, and she is the co-eternal associate ofGod Himself. Dwelling in His bosom, she thence comes forth to inspireall human good deeds, to plead evermore with men, to enrich those wholisten to her with choicest gifts. Intellectual clearness, moralgoodness, religious devotion, are all combined in the idea of Wisdomas belonging to men.

The divine source of all, and the correspondence between the human andthe divine nature, are taught in the residence of this personifiedWisdom with God before she dwelt with men. The whole of the manifoldrevelations, by which God makes known any part of His will to men, areher voice. Especially the call contained in the Old Testamentrevelation is the summons of Wisdom. But whether the writer of thisbook had any inkling of deeper truth still, or not, we cannot butconnect the incomplete personification of divine Wisdom here with itscomplete incarnation in a Person who is 'the power of God and thewisdom of God,' and who embodies the lineaments of the grand pictureof a Wisdom crying in the streets, even while it is true of Him that'He does not strive nor cry, nor cause His voice to be heard in thestreets'; for the crying, which is denied to be His, is ostentatiousand noisy, and the crying which is asserted to be hers is the plain,clear, universal appeal of divine love as well as wisdom. The light ofChrist 'lighteth every man that cometh into the world.'

The call of Wisdom in this passage begins with remonstrance and plainspeech, giving their right names to men who neglect her voice. Thefirst step in delivering men from evil—that is, from foolish—coursesis to put very clearly before them the true character of their acts,and still more of their inclinations. Gracious offers and richpromises come after; but the initial message of Wisdom to such men aswe are must be the accusation of folly. 'When she is come, she willconvict the world of sin.'

The three designations of men in verse 22 are probably arranged so asto make a climax. First come 'the simple,' or, as the word means,'open.' There is a sancta simplicitas, a holy ignorance ofevil, which is sister to the highest wisdom. It is well to be ignorantas well as 'innocent of much transgression'; and there is no moremistaken and usually insincere excuse for going into foul places thanthe plea that it is best to know the evil and so choose the good. Thatknowledge comes surely and soon enough without our seeking it. Butthere is a fatal simplicity, open-eared, like Eve, to the Tempter'swhisper, which believes the false promises of sin, and as Bunyan hastaught us, is companion of sloth and presumption.

Next come 'scorners,' who mock at good. A man must have gone a longway down hill before he begins to gibe at virtue and godliness. Butthe descent is steep, though the distance is long; and the 'simple'who begins to do what is wrong will come to sneer at what is right.

Then last comes the 'fool,' the name which, in Proverbs, is shorthandfor mental stupidity, moral obstinacy, and dogged godlessness,—a foulcompound, but one which is realised oftener than we think. A greatmany very superior intellects, cultivated ladies and gentlemen,university graduates, and the like, would be unceremoniously set downby divine wisdom as fools; and surely if account is taken of the wholecompass and duration of our being, and of all our relations to thingsand persons seen and unseen, nothing can be more stupid thangodlessness, however cultured. The word literally means coarse orthick, and may suggest the idea of stolid insensibility as the laststage in the downward progress.

But note that the charge is directed, not against deeds, butdispositions. Perverted love and perverted hatred underlie acts. Thesimple love simplicity, preferring to be unwarned against evil; thescorner finds delight in letting his rank tongue blossom into speech;and the false direction given to love gives a fatal twist to itscorresponding hate, so that the fool detests 'knowledge' as a thiefthe policeman's lantern. You cannot love what you should loathe,without loathing what you should love. Inner longings and revulsionssettle character and acts.

Verse 23 passes into entreaty; for it is vain to rouse conscience byplain speech, unless something is offered to make better lifepossible. The divine Wisdom comes with a rod, but also with gifts; butif the rod is kissed, the rewards are possessed. The relation ofclauses in verse 23 is that the first is the condition of thefulfilment of the second and third. If we turn at her reproof, twogreat gifts will be bestowed. Her spirit within will make us quick tohear and receive her words sounding without. Whatever other goodfollows on yielding to the call of divine Wisdom (and the remainingearly chapters of Proverbs magnificently detail the many rich giftsthat do follow), chief of all are spirits swift to hear and docile toobey her voice, and then actual communications to purged ears. Outwardrevelation without prepared hearts is water spilt upon rock. Preparedhearts without a message to them would be but multiplication of vainlongings; and God never stultifies Himself, or gives mouths withoutsending meat to fill them. To the submissive spirit, there will notlack either disposition to hear or clear utterance of His will.

But now comes a pause. Wisdom has made her offers in the crowdedstreets, and amid all the noise and bustle her voice has rung out.What is the result? Nothing. Not a head has been turned, nor an eyelifted. The bustle goes on as before. 'They bought, they sold,' as ifno voice had spoken. So, after the disappointed waiting of Wisdom, hervoice peals out again, but this time with severity in its tones. Notehow, in verses 24 and 25, the sin of sins against the pleading Wisdomof God is represented as being simple indifference. 'Ye refused,' 'noman regarded,' 'set at nought,' 'would none of'—these are the thingswhich bring down the heavy judgments. It does not need violentopposition or black crime to wreck a soul. Simply doing nothing whenGod speaks is enough to effect destruction. There is no need to liftup angry arms in hostility. If we keep them hanging listless by oursides, it is sufficient. The gift escapes us, if we simply keep ourhands shut or held behind our backs. Alas, for ears which have notheard, for seeing eyes which have not seen because they loved evilsimplicity and hated knowledge!

Then note the terrible retribution. That is an awful picture of themocking laughter of Wisdom, accompanying the rush of the whirlwind andthe groans of anguish and shrieks of terror. It is even more solemnand dreadful than the parallel representations in Psalm ii., for therethe laughter indicates God's knowledge that the schemes of opponentsare vain, but here it figures pleasure in calamities. Of course it isto be remembered that the Wisdom thus represented is not to beidentified with God; but still the imagery is startling, and needs tobe taken along with declarations that God has 'no pleasure in thedeath of the sinner,' and to be interpreted as indicating, with daringanthropomorphism, the inevitable character of the 'destruction,' andthe uselessness of appeals to the Wisdom once despised. But wejoyfully remember that the Incarnate Wisdom, fairer than the ancientpersonification, wept over the city which He knew must perish.

Verses 28-31 carry on the picture of too late repentance andinevitable retribution. They who let Wisdom cry, and paid no heed,shall cry to her in their turn, and be unnoticed. They whom she vainlysought shall vainly seek for her. Actions have their consequences,which are not annihilated because the doers do not like them. Thoughtshave theirs; for the foolish not only eat of the fruit of their waysor doings, but are filled with their own devices or counsels.'Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.' That inexorablelaw works, deaf to all cries, in the field of earthly life, both asregards condition and character; and that field of its operation isall that the writer of this book has in view. He is not denying thepossibility of forgiveness, nor the efficacy of repentance, nor is heasserting that a penitent soul ever seeks God in vain; but he isdeclaring that it is too late to cry out for deliverance fromconsequences of folly when the consequences have us in their grip, andthat wishes for deliverance are vain, though sighs of repentance arenot. We cannot reap where we have not sowed. We must reap what wehave. If we are such sluggards that we will 'not plough in winter byreason of the cold,' we shall 'beg in harvest and have nothing.'

But though the writer had probably only this life in view, JesusChrist has extended the teaching to the next, when He has told ofthose who will seek to enter in and not be able. The experience of thefruits of their godlessness will make godless men wish to escapeeating the fruits—and that wish shall be vain. It is not for us toenlarge on such words, but it is for us all to lay them to heart, andto take heed that we listen now to the beseeching call of the heavenlyWisdom in its tenderest and noblest form, as it appeared in Christ,the Incarnate Word.

Verses 32 and 33 generalise the preceding promises and warnings in agreat antithesis. 'The backsliding [or, turning away] of the simpleslays them.' There is allusion to Wisdom's call in verse 23. Thesimple had turned, but in the wrong direction—away from and nottowards her. To turn away from heavenly Wisdom is to set one's facetoward destruction. It cannot be too earnestly reiterated that we mustmake our choice of one of two directions for ourselves—either towardsGod, to seek whom is life, to find whom is heaven; or away from Him,to turn our backs on whom is to embrace unrest, and to be separatefrom whom is death. 'The security of fools,' by which is meant, nottheir safety, but their fancy that they are safe, 'destroys them.' Noman is in such danger as the careless man of the world who thinks thathe is all right. A traveller along the edge of a precipice in thenight, who goes on as if he walked a broad road and takes no heed tohis footing, will soon repent his rashness at the bottom, mangled andbruised. A man who in this changing world fancies that he sits as aking, and sees no sorrow, will have a rude wakening. A moment's heedsaves hours of pain.

The alternative to this suicidal folly is in listening to Wisdom'scall. Whoever does that will 'dwell safely,' not in fancied but realsecurity; and in his quiet heart there need be no unrest from fearedevils, for he will have hold of a charm which turns evils into good,and with such a guide he cannot go astray, nor with such adefender be wounded to death, nor with such a companion ever besolitary. If Christ be our Light, we shall not walk in darkness. If Hebe our Wisdom, we shall not err. If He be our Life, we shall never seedeath. If He is our Good, we shall fear no evil.

THE SECRET OF WELL-BEING

'My son, forget not my law; but let thine heart keep my commandments.2. For length of days, and long life, and peace, shall they add tothee. 3. Let not mercy and truth forsake thee: bind them about thyneck; write them upon the table of thine heart: 4. So shalt thou findfavour and good understanding in the sight of God and man. 5. Trust inthe Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine ownunderstanding. 6. In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall directthy paths. 7. Be not wise in thine own eyes: fear the Lord, and departfrom evil. 8. It shall be health to thy navel, and marrow to thybones. 9. Honour the Lord with thy substance, and with the firstfruitsof all thine increase: 10. So shall thy barns be filled with plenty,and thy presses shall burst out with new wine.'—PROVERBS iii. 1-10.

The first ten verses of this passage form a series of five couplets,which enforce on the young various phases of goodness by theirtendency to secure happiness or blessedness of various sorts. Theunderlying axiom is that, in a world ruled by a good Being, obediencemust lead to well-being; but while that is in the general true,exceptions do occur, and good men do encounter evil times. Thereforethe glowing promises of these verses are followed by two verses whichdeal with the explanation of good men's afflictions, as being resultsand tokens of God's fatherly love.

The first couplet is general in character. It inculcates obedience tothe precepts of the teacher, and gives as reason the assurance thatthereby long life and peace will be secured. True to the Old Testamentconception of revelation as a law, the teacher sets obedience in theforefront. He is sure that his teaching contains the sufficient guidefor conduct, and coincides with the divine will. He calls, in thefirst instance, for inward willing acceptance of His commandments; forit is the heart, not primarily the hands, which he desires should'keep' them. The mother of all graces of conduct is the bowing of thewill to divine authority. The will is the man, and where it ceases tolift itself up in self-sacrificing and self-determining rebellion, anddissolves into running waters of submission, these will flow throughthe life and make it pure. To obey self is sin, to obey God isrighteousness. The issues of such obedience are 'length of days …and peace.'

Even if we allow for the difference between the Old and the NewTestaments, it remains true that a life conformed to God's will tendsto longevity, and that many forms of sin do shorten men's days.Passion and indulged appetites eat away the very flesh, and many aman's 'bones are full of the sin of his youth.' The profligate hasusually 'a short life,' whether he succeeds in making it 'merry' ornot.

'Peace' is a wide word, including all well-being. Ease-lovingOrientals, especially when living in warlike times, naturally used thephrase as a shorthand expression for all good. Busy Westerns, torn bythe distractions and rapid movement of modern life, echo the sigh forrepose which breathes in the word. 'There is no joy but calm,' and thesure way to deepest peace is to give up self-will and live inobedience.

The second couplet deals with our relations to one another, and putsforward the two virtues of 'loving-kindness and truth'—that is truth,or faithfulness—as all-inclusive. They are the two which are oftenjointly ascribed to God, especially in the Psalms. Our attitude to oneanother should be moulded in God's to us all. The tiniest crystal hasthe same facets and angles as the largest. The giant hexagonal pillarsof basalt, like our Scottish Staffa, are identical in form with themicroscopic crystals of the same substance. God is our Pattern;goodness is likeness to Him.

These graces are to be bound about the neck, perhaps as an ornament,but more probably as a yoke by which the harnessed ox draws itsburden. If we have them, they will fit us to bear one another'sburdens, and will lead to all human duties to our fellows.

These graces are also to be written on the 'table of the heart'; thatis, are to be objects of habitual meditation with aspiration. If so,they will come to sight in life. He who practises them will 'findfavour with God and man,' for God looks with complacency on those whodisplay the right attitude to men; and men for the most part treat usas we treat them. There are surly natures which are not won bykindness, like black tarns among the hills, that are gloomy even insunshine, and requite evil for good; but the most of men reflect ourfeelings to them.

'Good understanding' is another result. It is 'found' when it isattributed to us, so that the expression substantially means that thepossessors of these graces will win the reputation of being reallywise, not only in the fallible judgment of men, but before the pureeyes of the all-seeing God. Really wise policy coincides withloving-kindness and truth.

The remaining couplets refer to our relations to God. The NewTestament is significantly anticipated in the pre-eminence given totrust; that is, faith. Nor less significant and profound is theassociation of self-distrust with trust in the Lord. The two thingsare inseparable. They are but the under and upper sides of one thing,or like the two growths that come from a seed—one striking downwardsbecomes the root; one piercing upwards becomes the stalk. The doubleattitude of trust and distrust finds expression in acknowledging Himin all our ways; that is, ordering our conduct under a constantconsciousness of His presence, in accordance with His will, and independence on His help.

Such a relation to God will certainly, and with no exceptions, issuein His 'directing our paths,' by which is meant that He will be notonly our Guide, but also our Roadmaker, showing us the way andclearing obstacles from it. Calm certitude follows on willingness toaccept God's will, and whoever seeks only to go where God sends himwill neither be left doubtful whither he should go, nor find his roadblocked.

The fourth couplet is, in its first part, in inverted parallelism withthe third; for it begins with self-distrust, and proceeds thence to'fear of the Lord,' which corresponds to, and is, in fact, but onephase of, trust in Him. It is the reverent awe which has no torment,and is then purest when faith is strongest. It necessarily leads todeparting from evil. Morality has its roots in religion. There is nosuch magnet to draw men from sin as the happy fear of God, which islikewise faith. Whoever separates devoutness from purity of life, thisteacher does not. He knows nothing of religion which permitsassociation with iniquity. Such conduct will tend to physicalwell-being, and in a deeper sense will secure soundness of life.Godlessness is the true sickness. He only is healthy who has ahealthy, because healed, soul.

The fifth couplet appears at first as being a drop to a lower region.A regulation of the Mosaic law may strike some as out of place here.But it is to be remembered that our modern distinction of ceremonialand moral law was non-existent for Israel, and that the command has awider application than to Jewish tithes. To 'honour God with oursubstance' is not necessarily to give it away for religious purposes,but to use it devoutly and as He approves.

Christianity has more to say about the distribution, as well as theacquisition, of wealth, than professing Christians, especially incommercial communities, practically recognise. This precept grips ustight, and is much more than a ceremonial regulation. Many causesbesides the devout use of property tend to wealth in our highlyartificial state of society. The world tries to get it by shrewdness,unscrupulousness, and by many other vices which are elevated to therank of virtues; but he who honours the Lord in getting and spendingwill generally have as much as his true needs and regulated desiresrequire.

THE GIFTS OF HEAVENLY WISDOM

'My son, despise not the chastening of the Lord; neither be weary ofHis correction: 12. For whom the Lord loveth He correcteth; even as afather the son in whom he delighteth. 13. Happy is the man thatfindeth wisdom, and the man that getteth understanding. 14. For themerchandise of it is better than the merchandise of silver, and thegain thereof than fine gold. 15. She is more precious than rubies: andall the things thou canst desire are not to be compared unto her. 16.Length of days is in her right hand; and in her left hand riches andhonour. 17. Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths arepeace. 18. She is a tree of life to them that lay hold upon her: andhappy is every one that retaineth her. 19. The Lord by wisdom hathfounded the earth; by understanding hath He established the heavens.20. By His knowledge the depths are broken up, and the clouds dropdown the dew. 21. My son, let not them depart from thine eyes: keepsound wisdom and discretion: 22. So shall they be life unto thy soul,and grace to thy neck. 23. Then shalt thou walk in thy way safely, andthy foot shall not stumble. 24. When thou liest down, thou shalt notbe afraid: yea, thou shalt lie down, and thy sleep shall besweet.'—PROVERBS iii. 11-24.

The repetition of the words 'my son' at the beginning of this passagemarks a new section, which extends to verse 20, inclusively, anothersection being similarly marked as commencing in verse 21. The fatherlycounsels of these early chapters are largely reiterations of the sameideas, being line upon line. 'To write the same things to you, to meindeed is not grievous, but for you it is safe.' Many strokes drivethe nail home. Exhortations to get Wisdom, based upon the blessingsshe brings, are the staple of the whole. If we look carefully at thesection (vers. 11-20), we find in it a central core (vers. 13-18),setting forth the blessings which Wisdom gives, preceded by twoverses, inculcating the right acceptance of God's chastisem*nts whichare one chief means of attaining Wisdom, and followed by two verses(vers. 19, 20), which exalt her as being divine as well as human. Sothe portraiture of her working in humanity is framed by a prologue andepilogue, setting forth two aspects of her relation to God; namely,that she is imparted by Him through the discipline of trouble, andthat she dwells in His bosom and is the agent of His creative work.

The prologue, then, points to sorrow and trouble, rightly accepted, asone chief means by which we acquire heavenly Wisdom. Note the profoundinsight into the meaning of sorrows. They are 'instruction' and'reproof.' The thought of the Book of Job is here fully incorporatedand assimilated. Griefs and pains are not tokens of anger, norpunishments of sin, but love-gifts meant to help to the acquisition ofwisdom. They do not come because the sufferers are wicked, but inorder to make them good or better. Tempests are meant to blow us intoport. The lights are lowered in the theatre that fairer scenes maybecome visible on the thin screen between us and eternity. Othersupports are struck away that we may lean hard on God. The voice ofall experience of earthly loss and bitterness is, 'Wisdom is theprincipal thing; therefore get Wisdom.' God himself becomes ourSchoolmaster, and through the voice of the human teacher we hear Hisdeeper tones saying, 'My son, despise not the chastening.'

Note, too, the assurance that all discipline is the fruit of Fatherlylove. How many sad hearts in all ages these few words have calmed andbraced! How sharp a test of our childlike spirit our acceptance ofthem, when our own hearts are sore, is! How deep the peace which theybring when really believed! How far they go to solve the mystery ofpain, and turn darkness into a solemn light!

Note, further, that the words 'despise' and 'be weary' both implyrather rejection with loathing, and thus express unsubmissiveimpatience which gets no good from discipline. The beautiful renderingof the Septuagint, which has been made familiar by its adoption inHebrews, makes the two words express two opposite faults. They'despise' who steel their wills against the rod, and make as if theydid not feel the pain; they 'faint' who collapse beneath the blows,which they feel so much that they lose sight of their purpose. Doggedinsensibility and utter prostration are equally harmful. He who meetslife's teachings, which are a Father's correction, with either, haslittle prospect of getting Wisdom.

Then follows the main part of this section (vers. 13-18),—the praiseof Wisdom as in herself most precious, and as bestowing highest good.'The man that findeth Wisdom' reminds us of the peasant in Christ'sparable, who found treasure hidden in a field, and the 'merchandise'in verse 14, of the trader seeking goodly pearls. But the finding inverse 13 is not like the rustic's in the parable, who was seekingnothing when a chance stroke of his plough or kick of his heel laidbare the glittering gold. It is the finding which rewards seeking. Thefigure of acquiring by trading, like that of the pearl-merchant in thecompanion parable, implies pains, effort, willingness to part withsomething in order to attain.

The nature of the price is not here in question. We know who has said,'I counsel thee to buy of Me gold tried in the fire.' We buy heavenlyWisdom when we surrender ourselves. The price is desire to possess,and willingness to accept as an undeserved, unearned gift. But thatdoes not come into view in our lesson. Only this is strongly put init—that this heavenly Wisdom outshines all jewels, outweighs allwealth, and is indeed the only true riches. 'Rubies' is probablyrather to be taken as 'corals,' which seem to have been very highlyprized by the Jews, and, no doubt, found their way to them from theIndian Ocean via the Red Sea. The word rendered 'things thou canstdesire' is better taken as meaning 'jewels.'

This noble and conclusive depreciation of material wealth incomparison with Wisdom, which is not merely intellectual, but rests onthe fear of the Lord, and is goodness as well as understanding, neverneeded preaching with more emphasis than in our day, when more andmore the commercial spirit invades every region of life, and rich menare the aristocrats and envied types of success. When will England andAmerica believe the religion which they profess, and adjust theirestimates of the best things accordingly? How many so-called Christianparents would think their son mad if he said, 'I do not care aboutgetting rich; my goal is to be wise with God's Wisdom'? How few of usorder our lives on the footing of this old teacher's lesson, and actout the belief that Wisdom is more than wealth! The man who heapsmillions together, and masses it, fails in life, however a vulgarworld and a nominal church may admire and glorify him. The man whowins Wisdom succeeds, however bare may be his cupboard, and howeverpeople may pity him for having failed in life, because he has notdrawn prizes in the Devil's lottery. His blank is a prize, and theirprizes are blanks. This decisive subordination of material tospiritual good is too plainly duty and common sense to need beingdwelt upon; but, alas! like a great many other most obvious, acceptedtruths, it is disregarded as universally as believed.

The inseparable accompaniments of Wisdom are next eloquentlydescribed. The picture is the poetical clothing of the idea that allmaterial good will come to him who despises it all and clasps Wisdomto his heart. Some things flow from Wisdom possessed as usualconsequences; some are inseparable from her. The gift in her righthand is length of days; that in her left, which, by its position, issuggested as inferior to the former, is wealth and honour—two goodswhich will attend the long life. No doubt such promises are to betaken with limitations; but there need be no doubt that, on the whole,loyal devotion to and real possession of heavenly Wisdom do tend inthe direction of lengthening lives, which are by it delivered fromvices and anxieties which cut many a career short, and of gatheringround silver hairs reverence and troops of friends.

These are the usual consequences, and may be fairly brought into viewas secondary encouragements to seek Wisdom. But if she is sought forthe sake of getting these attendant blessings, she will not be found.She must be loved for herself, not for her dowry, or she will not bewon. At the same time, the overstrained and fantastic morality, whichstigmatises regard to the blessed results of a religious life asselfishness, finds no support in Scripture, as it has none in commonsense. Would there were more of such selfishness!

Sometimes Wisdom's hands do not hold these outward gifts. But theconnection between her and the next blessings spoken of isinseparable. Her ways are pleasantness and peace. 'In keeping'—notfor keeping—'her commandments is great reward.' Inward delightand deep tranquillity of heart attend every step taken in obedience toWisdom. The course of conduct so prescribed will often involve painfulcrucifying of the lower nature, but its pleasure far outweighs itspain. It will often be strewn with sharp flints, or may even havered-hot ploughshares laid on it, as in old ordeal trials; but still itwill be pleasant to the true self. Sin is a blunder as well as acrime, and enlightened self-interest would point out the same courseas the highest law of Wisdom. In reality, duty and delight areco-extensive. They are two names for one thing—one taken fromconsideration of its obligation; the other, from observation of itsissues. 'Calm pleasures there abide.' The only complete peace, whichfills and quiets the whole man, comes from obeying Wisdom, or what isthe same thing, from following Christ. There is no other way ofbringing all our nature into accord with itself, ending the warbetween conscience and inclination, between flesh and spirit. There isno other way of bringing us into amity with all circ*mstances, so thatfortunate or adverse shall be recognised as good, and nothing be ableto agitate us very much. Peace with ourselves, the world, and God, isalways the consequence of listening to Wisdom.

The whole fair picture is summed up in verse 18: 'She is a tree oflife to them that lay hold upon her.' This is a distinct allusion tothe narrative of Genesis. The flaming sword of the cherub guard issheathed, and access to the tree, which gives immortal life to thosewho eat, is open to us. Mark how that great word 'life' is heregathering to itself at least the beginnings of higher conceptions thanthose of simple existence. It is swelling like a bud, and preparing toopen and disclose the perfect flower, the life which stands in theknowledge of God and the Christ whom He has sent. Jesus, the incarnateWisdom, is Himself 'the Tree of Life in the midst of the paradise ofGod.' The condition of access to it is 'laying hold' by theoutstretched hand of faith, and keeping hold with holy obstinacy ofgrip, in spite of all temptations to slack our grasp. That retainingis the condition of true blessedness.

Verses 19 and 20 invest the idea of Wisdom with still loftiersublimity, since they declare that it is an attribute of God Himselfby which creation came into being. The meaning of the writer isinadequately grasped if we take it to be only that creation showsGod's Wisdom. This personified Wisdom dwells with God, is the agent ofcreation, comes with invitations to men, may be possessed by them, andshowers blessings on them. The planet Neptune was divined before itwas discovered, by reason of perturbations in the movements of theexterior members of the system, unaccountable unless some great globeof light, hitherto unseen, were swaying them in their orbits. Do wenot see here like influence streaming from the unrisen light ofChrist? Personification prepares for Incarnation. There is One who hasbeen with the Father from the beginning, by whom all things came intobeing, whose voice sounds to all, who is the Tree of Life, whom we mayall possess, and with whose own peace we may be peaceful and blessedfor evermore.

Verses 21-24 belong to the next section of the great discourse orhymn. They add little to the preceding. But we may observe the earnestexhortation to let wisdom and understanding be ever in sight. Eyes areapt to stray and clouds to hide the sun. Effort is needed tocounteract the tendency to slide out of consciousness, which ourweakness imposes on the most certain and important truths. A Wisdomwhich we do not think about is as good or as bad as non-existent forus. One prime condition of healthy spiritual life is the habit ofmeditation, thereby renewing our gaze upon the facts of God'srevelation and the bearing of these on our conduct.

The blessings flowing from Wisdom are again dilated on, from asomewhat different point of view. She is the giver of life. And thenshe adorns the life she gives. One has seen homely faces so refinedand glorified by the fair soul that shone through them as to be, 'asit were, the face of an angel.' Gracefulness should be the outwardtoken of inward grace. Some good people forget that they are bound to'adorn the doctrine.' But they who have drunk most deeply of thefountain of Wisdom will find that, like the fabled spring, its watersconfer strange loveliness. Lives spent in communion with Jesus will belovely, however homely their surroundings, and however vulgar eyes,taught only to admire staring colours, may find them dull. The worldsaw 'no beauty that they should desire Him,' in Him whom holy soulsand heavenly angels and the divine Father deemed 'fairer than the sonsof men'!

Safety and firm footing in active life will be ours if we walk inWisdom's ways. He who follows Christ's footsteps will tread surely,and not fear foes. Quiet repose in hours of rest will be his. A dayfilled with happy service will be followed by a night full of calmslumber, 'Whether we sleep or wake, we live' with Him; and, if we doboth, sleeping and waking will be blessed, and our lives will move ongently to the time when days and nights shall melt into one, and therewill be no need for repose; for there will be no work that wearies andno hands that droop. The last lying down in the grave will be attendedwith no terrors. The last sleep there shall be sweet; for it willreally be awaking to the full possession of the personal Wisdom, whois our Christ, our Life in death, our Heaven in heaven.

THE TWO PATHS

'Hear, O my son, and receive my sayings; and the years of thy lifeshall be many. 11. I have taught thee in the way of wisdom; I have ledthee in right paths. 12. When thou goest, thy steps shall not bestraitened; and when thou runnest, thou shalt not stumble. 13. Takefast hold of instruction; let her not go: keep her; for she is thylife. 14. Enter not into the path of the wicked, and go not in the wayof evil men. 15. Avoid it, pass not by it, turn from it, and passaway. 16. For they sleep not, except they have done mischief; andtheir sleep is taken away, unless they cause some to fall. 17. Forthey eat the bread of wickedness, and drink the wine of violence. 18.But the path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth moreand more unto the perfect day. 19. The way of the wicked is asdarkness; they know not at what they stumble.'—PROVERBS iv. 10-19.

This passage includes much more than temperance or any other singlevirtue. It is a perfectly general exhortation to that practical wisdomwhich walks in the path of righteousness. The principles laid downhere are true in regard to drunkenness and abstinence, but they areintended to receive a wider application, and to that wider applicationwe must first look. The theme is the old, familiar one of the twopaths, and the aim is to recommend the better way by setting forth thecontrasted effects of walking in it and in the other.

The general call to listen in verse 10 is characteristically enforcedby the Old Testament assurance that obedience prolongs life. That is aNew Testament truth as well; for there is nothing more certain thanthat a life in conformity with God's will, which is the same thing asa life in conformity with physical laws, tends to longevity. Theexperience of any doctor will show that. Here in England we havestatistics which prove that total abstainers are a long-lived people,and some insurance offices construct their tables accordingly.

After that general call to listen comes, in verse 11, the descriptionof the path in which long life is to be found. It is 'the way ofWisdom'—that is, that which Wisdom prescribes, and in which thereforeit is wise to walk. It is always foolish to do wrong. The rough titleof an old play is The Devil is an Ass, and if that is not trueabout him, it is absolutely true about those who listen to his lies.Sin is the stupidest thing in the universe, for it ignores theplainest facts, and never gets what it flings away so much to secure.

Another aspect of the path is presented in the designation 'paths ofuprightness,' which seems to be equivalent to those which belong to,or perhaps which consist of, uprightness. The idea of straightness orevenness is the primary meaning of the word, and is, of course,appropriate to the image of a path. In the moral view, it suggests howmuch more simple and easy a course of rectitude is than one of sin.The one goes straight and unswerving to its end; the other is crooked,devious, intricate, and wanders from the true goal. A crooked road isa long road, and an up-and-down road is a tiring road. Wisdom's way isstraight, level, and steadily approaches its aim.

In verse 13 the image of the path is dropped for the moment, and thepicture of the way of uprightness and its travellers is translatedinto the plain exhortation to keep fast hold of 'instruction,' whichis substantially equivalent to the queenly Wisdom of these earlychapters of Proverbs. The earnestness of the repeated exhortationsimplies the strength of the forces that tend to sweep us, especiallythose of us who are young, from our grasp of that Wisdom. Hands becomeslack, and many a good gift drops from nerveless fingers; thievesabound who will filch away 'instruction,' if we do not resolutely holdtight by it. Who would walk through the slums of a city holding jewelswith a careless grasp, and never looking at them? How many would hehave left if he did? We do not need to do anything to loseinstruction. If we will only do nothing to keep it, the world and ourown hearts will make sure that we lose it. And if we lose it, we loseourselves; for 'she is thy life,' and the mere bodily life, that islived without her, is not worth calling the life of a man.

Verses 14 to 17 give the picture of the other path, in terriblecontrast with the preceding. It is noteworthy that, while in theformer the designation was the 'path of uprightness' or of 'wisdom,'and the description therefore was mainly of the characteristics of thepath, here the designation is 'the path of the wicked,' and thedescription is mainly of the travellers on it. Righteousness was dealtwith, as it were, in the abstract; but wickedness is too awful anddark to be painted thus, and is only set forth in the concrete, asseen in its doers. Now, it is significant that the first exhortationhere is of a negative character. In contrast with the reiteratedexhortations to keep wisdom, here are reiterated counsels to steerclear of evil. It is all about us, and we have to make a strong effortto keep it at arm's-length. 'Whom resist' is imperative. True,negative virtue is incomplete, but there will be no positive virtuewithout it. We must be accustomed to say 'No,' or we shall come tolittle good. An outer belt of firs is sometimes planted round a centreof more tender and valuable wood to shelter the young trees; so wehave to make a fence of abstinences round our plantation of positivevirtues. The decalogue is mostly prohibitions. 'So did not I,because of the fear of God' must be our motto. In this light, entireabstinence from intoxicants is seen to be part of the 'way of Wisdom.'It is one, and, in the present state of England and America, perhapsthe most important, of the ways by which we can 'turn from' the pathof the wicked and 'pass on.'

The picture of the wicked in verses 16 and 17 is that of very grosslycriminal sinners. They are only content when they have done harm, anddelight in making others as bad as themselves. But, diabolical as sucha disposition is, one sees it only too often in full operation. Howmany a drunkard or impure man finds a fiendish pleasure in gettinghold of some innocent lad, and 'putting him up to a thing or two,'which means teaching him the vices from which the teacher has ceasedto get much pleasure, and which he has to spice with the condiment ofseeing an unaccustomed sinner's eagerness! Such people infest ourstreets, and there is only one way for a young man to be safe fromthem,—'avoid, pass not by, turn from, and pass on.' The reference to'bread' and 'wine' in verse 17 seems simply to mean that the wickedmen's living is won by their 'wickedness,' which procures bread, andby their 'violence,' which brings them wine. It is the way by whichthese are obtained that is culpable. We may contrast this foul sourceof a degraded living with verse 13, where 'instruction' is set forthas 'the life' of the upright.

Verses 18 and 19 bring more closely together the two paths, and setthem in final, forcible contrast. The phrase 'the perfect day' mightbe rendered, vividly though clumsily, 'the steady of the day'—thatis, noon, when the sun seems to stand still in the meridian. So theimage compares the path of the just to the growing brightness ofmorning dawn, becoming more and more fervid and lustrous, till theclimax of an Eastern midday. No more sublime figure of the continuousprogress in goodness, brightness, and joy, which is the best reward ofwalking in the paths of uprightness, can be imagined; and it is astrue as it is sublime. Blessed they who in the morning of their daysbegin to walk in the way of wisdom; for, in most cases, years willstrengthen their uprightness, and to that progress there will be notermination, nor will the midday sun have to decline westward todiminishing splendour or dismal setting, but that noontide glory willbe enhanced, and made eternal in a new heaven. The brighter the light,the darker the shadow. That blaze of growing glory, possible for usall, makes the tragic gloom to which evil men condemn themselves thethicker and more doleful, as some dungeon in an Eastern prison seemspitch dark to one coming in from the blaze outside. 'How great is thatdarkness!' It is the darkness of sin, of ignorance, of sorrow, andwhat adds deeper gloom to it is that every soul that sits in thatshadow of death might have been shining, a sun, in the spacious heavenof God's love.

MONOTONY AND CRISES

'When thou goest, thy steps shall not be straitened; and when thourunnest, thou shalt not stumble.'—PROVERBS iv. 12.

The old metaphor likening life to a path has many felicities in it. Itsuggests constant change, it suggests continuous progress in onedirection, and that all our days are linked together, and are notisolated fragments; and it suggests an aim and an end. So we find itperpetually in this Book of Proverbs. Here the 'way' has a specificdesignation, 'the way of Wisdom'—that is to say, the way which Wisdomteaches, and the way on which Wisdom accompanies us, and the way whichleads to Wisdom. Now, these two clauses of my text are not merely aninstance of the peculiar feature of Hebrew poetry called parallelism,in which two clauses, substantially the same, occur, but with a littlepleasing difference. 'When thou goest'—that is, the monotonous tramp,tramp, tramp of slow walking along the path of an uneventful dailylife, the humdrum 'one foot up and another foot down' which makes themost of our days. 'When thou runnest'—that points to the crises, thesudden spurts, the necessarily brief bursts of more than usual energyand effort and difficulty. And about both of them, the humdrum and theexciting, the monotonous and the startling, the promise comes that ifwe walk in the path of Wisdom we shall not get disgusted with the oneand we shall not be overwhelmed by the other. 'When thou walkest, thysteps shall not be straitened; when thou runnest, thou shalt notstumble.'

But before I deal with these two clauses specifically, let me recallto you the condition, and the sole condition, upon which either ofthem can be fulfilled in our daily lives. The book from which my textis taken is probably one of the very latest in the Old Testament, andyou catch in it a very significant and marvellous development of theOld Testament thought. For there rises up, out of these early chaptersof the Book of Proverbs, that august and serene figure of the queenlyWisdom, which is more than a personification and is less than a personand a prophecy. It means more than the wise man that spoke it saw; itmeans for us Christ, 'the Power of God and the Wisdom of God.' And soinstead of keeping ourselves merely to the word of the Book ofProverbs, we must grasp the thing that shines through the word, andrealise that the writer's visions can only become realities when theserene and august Wisdom that he saw shimmering through the darknesstook to itself a human Form, and 'the Word became flesh, and dweltamong us.'

With that heightening of the meaning of the phrase, 'the path ofWisdom' assumes a heightened meaning too, for it is the path of thepersonal Wisdom, the Incarnate Wisdom, Christ Himself. And what doesit then come to be to obey this command to walk in the way ofWisdom? Put it into three sentences. Let the Christ who is not onlywise, but Wisdom, choose your path, and be sure that by the submissionof your will all your paths are His, and not only yours. Make His pathyours by following in His steps, and do in your place what you thinkChrist would have done if He had been there. Keep company with Him onthe road. If we will do these three things—if we will say to Him,'Lord, when Thou sayest go, I go; when Thou biddest me come, I come; Iam Thy slave, and I rejoice in the bondage more than in all licentiousliberty, and what Thou biddest me do, I do'—if you will further say,'As Thou art, so am I in the world'—and if you will further say,'Leave me not alone, and let me cling to Thee on the road, as a littlechild holds on by her mother's skirt or her father's hand,' then, andonly then, will you walk in the path of Wisdom.

Now, then, these three things—submission of will, conformity ofconduct, closeness of companionship—these three things beingunderstood, let us look for a moment at the blessings that this textpromises, and first at the promise for long uneventful stretches ofour daily life. That, of course, is mainly the largest proportion ofall our lives. Perhaps nine-tenths at least of all our days and yearsfall under the terms of this first promise, 'When thou walkest.' Formany miles there comes nothing particular, nothing at all exciting,nothing new, nothing to break the plod, plod, plod along the road.Everything is as it was yesterday, and the day before that, and as itwill be to-morrow, and the day after that, in all probability. 'Thetrivial round, the common task' make up by far the largest percentageof our lives. It is as in wine, the immense proportion of it isnothing but water, and only a small proportion of alcohol is diffusedthrough the great mass of the tamer liquid.

Now, then, if Jesus Christ is not to help us in the monotony of ourdaily lives, what, in the name of common sense, is His help good for?If it is not true that He will be with us, not only in the moments ofcrisis, but in the long commonplace hours, we may as well have noChrist at all, for all that I can see. Unless the trivial is Hisfield, there is very little field for Him, in your life or mine. Andso it should come to all of us who have to take up this daily burdenof small, monotonous, constantly recurring, and therefore oftenwearisome, duties, as even a more blessed promise than the other one,that 'when thou walkest, thy steps shall not be straitened.'

I remember hearing of a man that got so disgusted with having to dressand undress himself every day that he committed suicide to escape fromthe necessity. That is a very extreme form of the feeling that comesover us all sometimes, when we wake in a morning and look before usalong the stretch of dead level, which is a great deal more wearisomewhen it lasts long than are the cheerful vicissitudes of up hill anddown dale. We all know the deadening influence of a habit. We all knowthe sense of disgust that comes over us at times, and of utterweariness, just because we have been doing the same things day afterday for so long. I know only one infallible way of preventing thecommon from becoming commonplace, of preventing the small frombecoming trivial, of preventing the familiar from becomingcontemptible, and it is to link it all to Jesus Christ, and to say,'For Thy sake, and unto Thee, I do this'; then, not only will therough places become plain, and the crooked things straight, and notonly will the mountains be brought low, but the valleys of thecommonplace will be exalted. 'Thy steps shall not be straitened.' 'Iwill make his feet as hind's feet,' says one of the old prophets. Whata picture of light, buoyant, graceful movement that is! And each of usmay have that, instead of the grind, grind, grind! tramp, tramp,tramp! along the level and commonplace road of our daily lives, if wewill. Walk in the path of Christ, with Christ, towards Christ, and'thy steps shall not be straitened.'

Now, there is another aspect of this same promise—viz. if we thus arein the path of Incarnate Wisdom, we shall not feel the restrictions ofthe road to be restraints. 'Thy steps shall not be straitened';although there is a wall on either side, and the road is the narrowway that leads to life, it is broad enough for the sober man, becausehe goes in a straight line, and does not need half the road to rollabout in. The limits which love imposes, and the limits which loveaccepts, are not narrowing. 'I will walk at liberty, for—I do as Ilike.' No! that is slavery; but, 'I will walk at liberty, for I keepThy precepts'; and I do not want to go vagrantising at large, butlimit myself thankfully to the way which Thou dost mark out. 'Thysteps shall not be straitened.' So much for the first of thesepromises.

Now what about the other one? 'When thou runnest, thou shalt notstumble.'

As I have said, the former promise applies to the hours and the yearsof life. The latter applies to but a few moments of each man's life.Cast your thoughts back over your own days, and however changeful,eventful, perhaps adventurous, and as we people call it, romantic,some parts of our lives may have been, yet for all that you can putthe turning-points, the crises that have called for great efforts, andthe gathering of yourselves up, and the calling forth of all yourpowers to do and to dare, you can put them all inside of a week, inmost cases. 'When thou runnest, thou shalt not stumble.' The greaterthe speed, the greater the risk of stumbling over some obstacle in theway. We all know how many men there are that do very well in theuneventful commonplaces of life, but bring them face to face with somegreat difficulty or some great trial, and there is a dismal failure.Jesus Christ is ready to make us fit for anything in the way ofdifficulty, in the way of trial, that can come storming upon us fromout of the dark. And He will make us so fit if we follow theinjunctions to which I have already been referring. Without His helpit is almost certain that when we have to run, our ankles will give,or there will be a stone in the road that we never thought of, and theexcitement will sweep us away from principle, and we shall lose ourhold on Him; and then it is all up with us.

There is a wonderful saying in one of the prophets, which uses thissame metaphor of my text with a difference, where it speaks of thedivine guidance of Israel as being like that of a horse in thewilderness. Fancy the poor, nervous, tremulous creature trying to keepits footing upon the smooth granite slabs of Sinai. Travellers darenot take their horses on mountain journeys, because they are highlynervous and are not sure-footed enough. And, so says the old prophet,that gracious Hand will be laid on the bridle, and hold the nervouscreature's head up as it goes sliding over the slippery rocks, and soHe will bring it down to rest in the valley. 'Now unto Him that isable to keep us from stumbling,' as is the true rendering, 'and topresent us faultless … be glory.' Trust Him, keep near Him, let Himchoose your way, and try to be like Him in it; and whatever greatoccasions may arise in your lives, either of sorrow or of duty, youwill be equal to them.

But remember the virtue that comes out victorious in the crisis musthave been nourished and cultivated in the humdrum moments. For it isno time to make one's first acquaintance with Jesus Christ when theeyeballs of some ravenous wild beast are staring into ours, and itsmouth is open to swallow us. Unless He has kept our feet from beingstraitened in the quiet walk, He will not be able to keep us fromstumbling in the vehement run.

One word more. This same distinction is drawn by one of the prophets,who adds another clause to it. Isaiah, or the author of the secondportion of the book which goes by his name, puts in wonderfulconnection the two thoughts of my text with analogous thoughts inregard to God, when he says, 'Hast thou not known, hast thou notheard, that the everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends ofthe earth, fainteth not, neither is weary?' and immediately goes on tosay, 'They that wait on the Lord shall renew their strength. Theyshall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.' So it isfrom God, the unfainting and the unwearied, that the strength comeswhich makes our steps buoyant with energy amidst the commonplace, andsteadfast and established at the crises of our lives. But before thesetwo great promises is put another one: 'They shall mount up with wingsas eagles,' and therefore both the other become possible. That is tosay, fellowship with God in the heavens, which is made possible onearth by communion with Christ, is the condition both of the unweariedrunning and of unfainting walking. If we will keep in the path ofChrist, He will take care of the commonplace dreary tracts and of thebrief moments of strain and effort, and will bring us at last where Hehas gone, if, looking unto Him, we 'run with patience the race,' andwalk with cheerfulness the road, 'that is set before us.'

FROM DAWN TO NOON

'The path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth more andmore unto the perfect day.'—PROVERBS iv. 18.

'Then shall the righteous shine forth as the sun in the kingdom oftheir father.—MATT. xiii. 43.

The metaphor common to both these texts is not infrequent throughoutScripture. In one of the oldest parts of the Old Testament, Deborah'striumphal song, we find, 'Let all them that love Thee be as the sunwhen he goeth forth in his might.' In one of the latest parts of theOld Testament, Daniel's prophecy, we read, 'They that be wise shallshine as the brightness of the firmament; and they that turn many torighteousness as the stars for ever and ever.' Then in the NewTestament we have Christ's comparison of His servants to light, andthe great promise which I have read as my second text. The upshot ofthem all is this—the most radiant thing on earth is the character ofa good man. The world calls men of genius and intellectual force itslights. The divine estimate, which is the true one, confers the nameon righteousness.

But my first text follows out another analogy; not only brightness,but progressive brightness, is the characteristic of the righteousman.

We are to think of the strong Eastern sun, whose blinding lightsteadily increases till the noontide. 'The perfect day' is a somewhatunfortunate translation. What is meant is the point of time at whichthe day culminates, and for a moment, the sun seems to stand steady,up in those southern lands, in the very zenith, raying down 'thearrows that fly by noonday.' The text does not go any further, it doesnot talk about the sad diminution of the afternoon. The parallel doesnot hold; though, if we consult appearance and sense alone, it seemsto hold only too well. For, sadder than the setting of the suns, whichrise again to-morrow, is the sinking into darkness of death, fromwhich there seems to be no emerging. But my second text comes in totell us that death is but as the shadow of eclipse which passes, andwith it pass obscuring clouds and envious mists, and 'then shall therighteous blaze forth like the sun in their Heavenly Father'skingdom.'

And so the two texts speak to us of the progressive brightness, andthe ultimate, which is also the progressive, radiance of therighteous.

I. In looking at them together, then, I would notice, first, what a
Christian life is meant to be.

I must not linger on the lovely thoughts that are suggested by thatattractive metaphor of life. It must be enough, for our presentpurpose, to say that the light of the Christian life, like its type inthe heavens, may be analysed into three beams—purity, knowledge,blessedness. And these three, blended together, make the purewhiteness of a Christian soul.

But what I wish rather to dwell upon is the other thought, theintention that every Christian life should be a life of increasinglustre, uninterrupted, and the natural result of increasing communionwith, and conformity to, the very fountain itself of heavenlyradiance.

Remember how emphatically, in all sorts of ways, progress is laid downin Scripture as the mark of a religious life. There is the emblem ofmy text. There is our Lord's beautiful one of vegetable growth: 'Firstthe blade, then the ear, then the full corn in the ear.' There is theother metaphor of the stages of human life, 'babes in Christ,' youngmen in Him, old men and fathers. There is the metaphor of the growthof the body. There is the metaphor of the gradual building up of astructure. We are to 'edify ourselves together,' and to 'buildourselves up on our most holy faith.' There is the other emblem of arace—continual advance as the result of continual exertion, and theuse of the powers bestowed upon us.

And so in all these ways, and in many others that I need not now touchupon, Scripture lays it down as a rule that life in the highestregion, like life in the lowest, is marked by continual growth. It isso in regard to all other things. Continuity in any kind of practicegives increasing power in the art. The artisan, the blacksmith withhis hammer, the skilled artificer at his trade, the student at hissubject, the good man in his course of life, and the bad man in his,do equally show that use becomes second nature. And so, in passing,let me say what incalculable importance there is in our getting habit,with all its mystical power to mould life, on the side ofrighteousness, and of becoming accustomed to do good, and so beingunfamiliar with evil.

Let me remind you, too, how this intention of continuous growth ismarked by the gifts that are bestowed upon us in Jesus Christ. Hegives us—and it is by no means the least of the gifts that Hebestows—an absolutely unattainable aim as the object of our efforts.For He bids us not only be 'perfect, as our Father in Heaven isperfect,' but He bids us be entirely conformed to His own Self. Themisery of men is that they pursue aims so narrow and so shabby thatthey can be attained, and are therefore left behind, to sink hull downon the backward horizon. But to have before us an aim which isabsolutely unreachable, instead of being, as ignorant people say, anoccasion of despair and of idleness, is, on the contrary, the verysalt of life. It keeps us young, it makes hope immortal, itemancipates from lower pursuits, it diminishes the weight of sorrows,it administers an anaesthetic to every pain. If you want to keeplife fresh, seek for that which you can never fully find.

Christ gives us infinite powers to reach that unattainable aim, for Hegives us access to all His own fullness, and there is more in Hisstorehouses than we can ever take, not to say more than we can everhope to exhaust. And therefore, because of the aim that is set beforeus, and because of the powers that are bestowed upon us to reach it,there is stamped upon every Christian life unmistakably as God'spurpose and ideal concerning it, that it should for ever and for everbe growing nearer and nearer, as some ascending spiral that evercircles closer and closer, and yet never absolutely unites with thegreat central Perfection which is Himself.

So, brethren, for every one of us, if we are Christian people at all,'this is the will of God, even your perfection.'

II. Consider the sad contrast of too many Christian lives.

I would not speak in terms that might seem to be reproach andscolding. The matter is far too serious, the disease far toowidespread, to need or to warrant any exaggeration. But, dearbrethren, there are many so-called and, in a fashion, really Christianpeople to whom Christ and His work are mainly, if not exclusively, themeans of escaping the consequences of sin—a kind of 'fire-escape.'And to very many it comes as a new thought, in so far as theirpractical lives are concerned, that these ought to be lives ofsteadily increasing deliverance from the love and the power of sin,and steadily increasing appropriation and manifestation of Christ'sgranted righteousness. There are, I think, many of us from whom thevery notion of progress has faded away. I am sure there are some of uswho were a great deal farther on on the path of the Christian lifeyears ago, when we first felt that Christ was anything to us, than weare to-day. 'When for the time ye ought to be teachers, ye have needthat one teach you which be the first principles of the oracles ofGod.'

There is an old saying of one of the prophets that a child would die ahundred years old, which in a very sad sense is true about very manyfolk within the pale of the Christian Church who are seventy-year-oldbabes still, and will die so. Suns 'growing brighter and brighteruntil the noonday!' Ah! there are many of us who are a great deal morelike those strange variable stars that sometimes burst out in theheavens into a great blaze, that brings them up to the brightness ofstars of the first magnitude, for a day or two; and then they dwindleuntil they become little specks of light that the telescope can hardlysee.

And there are hosts of us who are instances, if not of arrested, atany rate of unsymmetrical, development. The head, perhaps, iscultivated; the intellectual apprehension of Christianity increases,while the emotional, and the moral, and the practical part of it areall neglected. Or the converse may be the case; and we may be full ofgush and of good emotion, and of fervour when we come to worship or topray, and our lives may not be a hair the better for it all. Or theremay be a disproportion because of an exclusive attention to conductand the practical side of Christianity, while the rational side of it,which should be the basis of all, and the emotional side of it, whichshould be the driving power of all, are comparatively neglected.

So, dear brethren! what with interruptions, what with growing by fitsand starts, and long, dreary winters like the Arctic winters, comingin between the two or three days of rapid, and therefore brief andunwholesome, development, we must all, I think, take to heart thecondemnation suggested by this text when we compare the reality of ourlives with the divine intention concerning them. Let us ask ourselves,'Have I more command over myself than I had twenty years ago? Do Ilive nearer Jesus Christ today than I did yesterday? Have I more ofHis Spirit in me? Am I growing? Would the people that know me best saythat I am growing in the grace and knowledge of my Lord and Saviour?'Astronomers tell us that there are dark suns, that have burntthemselves out, and are wandering unseen through the skies. I wonderif there are any extinguished suns of that sort listening to me atthis moment.

III. How the divine purpose concerning us may be realised by us.

Now the Alpha and the Omega of this, the one means whichincludes all other, is laid down by Jesus Christ Himself in anothermetaphor when He said, 'Abide in Me, and I in you; so shall ye bringforth much fruit.' Our path will brighten, not because of any radiancein ourselves, but in proportion as we draw nearer and nearer to theFountain of heavenly radiance.

The planets that move round the sun, further away than we are onearth, get less of its light and heat; and those that circle around itwithin the limits of our orbit, get proportionately more. The nearerwe are to Him, the more we shall shine. The sun shines by its ownlight, drawn indeed from the shrinkage of its mass, so that it givesaway its very life in warming and illuminating its subject-worlds. Butwe shine only by reflected light, and therefore the nearer we keep toHim the more shall we be radiant.

That keeping in touch with Jesus Christ is mainly to be secured by thedirection of thought, and love, and trust to Him. If we follow closeupon Him we shall not walk in darkness. It is to be secured andmaintained very largely by what I am afraid is much neglected byChristian people of all sorts nowadays, and that is the devotional useof their Bibles. That is the food by which we grow. It is to be securedand maintained still more largely by that which I, again, am afraid isbut very imperfectly attained to by Christian people now, and that is,the habit of prayer. It is to be secured and maintained, again, by thehonest conforming of our lives, day by day, to the present amount of ourknowledge of Him and of His will. Whosoever will make all his life themanifestation of his belief, and turn all his creed into principles ofaction, will grow both in the comprehensiveness, and in the depths ofhis Christian character. 'Ye are the light in the Lord.' Keep in Him,and you will become brighter and brighter. So shall we 'go from strengthto strength, till we appear before God in Zion.'

IV. Lastly, what brighter rising will follow the earthly setting?

My second text comes in here. Beauty, intellect, power, goodness; allgo down into the dark. The sun sets, and there is left a sad andfading glow in the darkening pensive sky, which may recall thevanished light for a little while to a few faithful hearts, butsteadily passes into the ashen grey of forgetfulness.

But 'then shall the righteous blaze forth like the sun, in theirHeavenly Father's kingdom.' The momentary setting is but apparent. Andere it is well accomplished, a new sun swims into the 'ampler ether,the diviner air' of that future life, 'and with new spangled beams,flames in the forehead of the morning sky.'

The reason for that inherent brightness suggested in our second textis that the soul of the righteous man passes from earth into a regionout of which we 'gather all things that offend, and them that doiniquity.' There are other reasons for it, but that is the one whichour Lord dwells on. Or, to put it into modern scientific language,environment corresponds to character. So, when the clouds have rolledaway, and no more mists from the undrained swamps of selfishness andsin and animal nature rise up to hide the radiance, there shall be afuller flood of light poured from the re-created sun.

That brightness thus promised has for its highest and most blessedcharacter that it is conformity to the Lord Himself. For, as you mayremember, the last use of this emblem that we find in Scripture refersnot to the servant but to the Master, whom His beloved disciple inApocalyptic vision saw, with His 'countenance as the sun shining inhis strength.' Thus 'we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as Heis.' And therefore that radiance of the sainted dead is progressive,too. For it has an infinite fulness to draw upon, and the soul that isjoined to Jesus Christ, and derives its lustre from Him, cannot dieuntil it has outgrown Jesus and emptied God. The sun will one day be adark, cold ball. We shall outlast it.

But, brethren, remember that it is only those who here on earth haveprogressively appropriated the brightness that Christ bestows who havea right to reckon on that better rising. It is contrary to allprobability to believe that the passage from life can change theingrained direction and set of a man's nature. We know nothing thatwarrants us in affirming that death can revolutionise character. Donot trust your future to such a dim peradventure. Here is a plaintruth. They who on earth are as 'the shining light that shineth moreand more unto the perfect day,' shall, beyond the shadow of eclipse,shine on as the sun does, behind the opaque, intervening body, allunconscious of what looks to mortal eyes on earth an eclipse, and'shall blaze out like the sun in their Heavenly Father's kingdom.' Forall that we know and are taught by experience, religious and moraldistinctions are eternal. 'He that is righteous, let him be righteousstill; and he that is filthy, let him be filthy still.'

KEEPING AND KEPT

'Keep thy heart with all diligence; for out of it are the issues oflife.'—PROVERBS iv. 23.

'Kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation.'—1 PETER 1.5.

The former of these texts imposes a stringent duty, the latterpromises divine help to perform it. The relation between them is thatbetween the Law and the Gospel. The Law commands, the Gospel givespower to obey. The Law pays no attention to man's weakness, and pointsno finger to the source of strength. Its office is to set clearlyforth what we ought to be, not to aid us in becoming so. 'Here is yourduty, do it' is, doubtless, a needful message, but it is a chilly one,and it may well be doubted if it ever rouses a soul to right action.Moralists have hammered away at preaching self-restraint and a closewatch over the fountain of actions within from the beginning, buttheir exhortations have little effect unless they can add to their icyinjunctions the warmth of the promise of our second text, and point toa divine Keeper who will make duty possible. We must be kept by God,if we are ever to succeed in keeping our wayward hearts.

I. Without our guarding our hearts, no noble life is possible.

The Old Testament psychology differs from our popular allocation ofcertain faculties to bodily organs. We use head and heart, roughlyspeaking, as being respectively the seats of thought and of emotion.But the Old Testament locates in the heart the centre of personalbeing. It is not merely the home of the affections, but the seat ofwill, moral purpose. As this text says, 'the issues of life' flow fromit in all the multitudinous variety of their forms. The stream partsinto many heads, but it has one fountain. To the Hebrew thinkers theheart was the indivisible, central unity which manifested itself inthe whole of the outward life. 'As a man thinketh in his heart, so ishe.' The heart is the man. And that personal centre has a moralcharacter which comes to light in, and gives unity and character to,all his deeds.

That solemn thought that every one of us has a definite moralcharacter, and that our deeds are not an accidental set of outwardactions but flow from an inner fountain, needs to be driven home toour consciences, for most of the actions of most men are done somechanically, and reflected on so little by the doers, that theconviction of their having any moral character at all, or of ourincurring any responsibility for them, is almost extinct in us, unlesswhen something startles conscience into protest.

It is this shrouded inner self to which supreme care is to bedirected. All noble ethical teaching concurs in this—that a man whoseeks to be right must keep, in the sense both of watching and ofguarding, his inner self. Conduct is more easily regulated thancharacter—and less worth regulating. It avails little to plantwatchers on the stream half way to the sea. Control must be exercisedat the source, if it is to be effectual. The counsel of our first textis a commonplace of all wholesome moral teaching since the beginningof the world. The phrase 'with all diligence' is literally 'above allguarding,' and energetically expresses the supremacy of this keeping.It should be the foremost, all-pervading aim of every wise man whowould not let his life run to waste. It may be turned into more modernlanguage, meaning just what this ancient sage meant, if we put it as,'Guard thy character with more carefulness than thou dost thy mostprecious possessions, for it needs continual watchfulness, and,untended, will go to rack and ruin.' The exhortation finds a responsein every heart, and may seem too familiar and trite to bear dwellingon, but we may be allowed to touch lightly on one or two of the plainreasons which enforce it on every man who is not what Proverbs veryunpolitely calls 'a fool.'

That guarding is plainly imposed as necessary, by the veryconstitution of our manhood. Our nature is evidently not a republic,but a monarchy. It is full of blind impulses, and hungry desires,which take no heed of any law but their own satisfaction. If the reinsare thrown on the necks of these untamed horses, they will drag theman to destruction. They are only safe when they are curbed andbitted, and held well in. Then there are tastes and inclinations whichneed guidance and are plainly meant to be subordinate. The will is togovern all the lower self, and conscience is to govern the will.Unmistakably there are parts of every man's nature which are meant toserve, and parts which are appointed to rule, and to let the servantsusurp the place of the rulers is to bring about as wild a confusionwithin as the Ecclesiast lamented that he had seen in the anarchictimes when he wrote—princes walking and beggars on horseback. AsGeorge Herbert has it—

'Give not thy humours way;
God gave them to thee under lock and key.'

Then, further, that guarding is plainly imperative, because there isan outer world which appeals to our needs and desires, irrespectivealtogether of right and wrong and of the moral consequences ofgratifying these. Put a loaf before a starving man and his impulsewill be to clutch and devour it, without regard to whether it is hisor no. Show any of our animal propensities its appropriate food, andit asks no questions as to right or wrong, but is stirred to grasp itsnatural food. And even the higher and nobler parts of our nature arebut too apt to seek their gratification without having the license ofconscience for doing so, and sometimes in defiance of its plainprohibitions. It is never safe to trust the guidance of life totastes, inclinations, or to anything but clear reason, set in motionby calm will, and acting under the approbation of 'the Lord ChiefJustice, Conscience.'

But again, seeing that the world has more evil than good in it, thekeeping of the heart will always consist rather in repellingsolicitations to yielding to evil. In short, the power and the habitof sternly saying 'No' to the whole crowd of tempters is always themain secret of a noble life. 'He that hath no rule over his own spiritis like a city broken down and without walls.'

II. There is no effectual guarding unless God guards.

The counsel in Proverbs is not mere toothless moral commonplace, butis associated, in the preceding chapter, with fatherly advice to 'letthine heart keep my commandments' and to 'trust in the Lord with allthine heart.' The heart that so trusts will be safely guarded, andonly such a heart will be. The inherent weakness of all attempts atself-keeping is that keeper and kept being one and the samepersonality, the more we need to be kept the less able we are toeffect it. If in the very garrison are traitors, how shall thefortress be defended? If, then, we are to exercise an effectual guardover our characters and control over our natures, we must have anoutward standard of right and wrong which shall not be deflected byvariations in our temperature. We need a fixed light to steer towards,which is stable on the stable shore, and is not tossing up and down onour decks. We shall cleanse our way only when we 'take heed thereto,according to Thy word.' For even God's viceroy within, the sovereignconscience, can be warped, perverted, silenced, and is not immune fromthe spreading infection of evil. When it turns to God, as a mirror tothe sun, it is irradiated and flashes bright illumination into darkcorners, but its power depends on its being thus lit by radiationsfrom the very Light of Life. And if we are ever to have a coercivepower over the rebellious powers within, we must have God's powerbreathed into us, giving grip and energy to all the good within,quickening every lofty desire, satisfying every aspiration that feelsafter Him, cowing all our evil and being the very self of ourselves.

We need an outward motive which will stimulate and stir to effort. Ourwills are lamed for good, and the world has strong charms that appealto us. And if we are not to yield to these, there must be somewhere astronger motive than any that the sorceress world has in its stores,that shall constrainingly draw us to ways that, because they tendupward, and yield no pabulum for the lower self, are difficult forsluggish feet. To the writer of this Book of Proverbs the name of Godbore in it such a motive. To us the name of Jesus, which is Love,bears a yet mightier appeal, and the motive which lies in His deathfor us is strong enough, and it alone is strong enough, to fire ourwhole selves with enthusiastic, grateful love, which will burn up oursloth, and sweep our evil out of our hearts, and make us swift andglad to do all that may please Him. If there must be freshreinforcements thrown into the town of Mansoul, as there must be if itis not to be captured, there is one sure way of securing these. Oursecond text tells us whence the relieving force must come. If we areto keep our hearts with all diligence, we must be 'kept by the powerof God,' and that power is not merely to make diversion outside thebeleaguered fortress which may force the besiegers to retreat and giveup their effort, but is to enter in and possess the soul which itwills to defend. It is when the enemy sees that new succours have, insome mysterious way, been introduced, that he gives up his siege. Itis God in us that is our security.

III. There is no keeping by God without faith.

Peter was an expert in such matters, for he had had a bitterexperience to teach him how soon and surely self-confidence becameself-despair. 'Though all should forsake Thee, yet will not I,' wassaid but a few hours before he denied Jesus. His faith failed, andthen the divine guard that was keeping his soul passed thence, and,left alone, he fell.

That divine Power is exerted for our keeping on condition of ourtrusting ourselves to Him and trusting Him for ourselves. And thatcondition is no arbitrary one, but is prescribed by the very nature ofdivine help and of human faith. If God could keep our souls withoutour trust in Him He would. He does so keep them as far as is possible,but for all the choicer blessings of His giving, and especially forthat of keeping us free from the domination of our lower selves, theremust be in us faith if there is to be in God help. The hand that layshold on God in Christ must be stretched out and must grasp His warm,gentle, and strong hand, if the tingling touch of it is to infusestrength. If the relieving force is victoriously to enter our hearts,we must throw open the gates and welcome it. Faith is but the opendoor for God's entrance. It has no efficacy in itself any more than adoor has, but all its blessedness depends on what it admits into thehidden chambers of the heart.

I reiterate what I have tried to show in these poor words. There is nonoble life without our guarding our hearts; there is no effectualguarding unless God guards; there is no divine guarding unless throughour faith. It is vain to preach self-governing and self-keeping.Unless we can tell the beleaguered heart, 'The Lord is thy Keeper; Hewill keep thee from all evil; He will keep thy soul,' we only add onemore impossible command to a man's burden. And we do not apprehend norexperience the divine keeping in its most blessed and fullest reality,unless we find it in Jesus, who is 'able to keep us from falling, andto present us faultless before the presence of His glory withexceeding joy.'

THE CORDS OF SIN

'His own iniquities shall take the wicked himself, and he shall beholden with the cords of his sins.'—PROVERBS v. 22.

In Hosea's tender picture of the divine training of Israel which,alas! failed of its effect, we read, 'I drew them with cords of aman,' which is further explained as being 'with bands of love.' Themetaphor in the prophet's mind is probably that of a child being'taught to go' and upheld in its first tottering steps byleading-strings. God drew Israel, though Israel did not yield to thedrawing. But if these gentle, attractive influences, which ever areraying out from Him, are resisted, another set of cords, not nowsustaining and attracting, but hampering and fettering, twinethemselves round the rebellious life, and the man is like a wildcreature snared in the hunter's toils, enmeshed in a net, and with itsonce free limbs restrained. The choice is open to us all, whether wewill let God draw us to Himself with the sweet manlike cords of Hiseducative and forbearing love, or, flinging off these, which onlyfoolish self-will construes into limitations, shall condemn ourselvesto be prisoned within the narrow room of our own sins. We may choosewhich condition shall be ours, but one or other of them must be ours.We may either be drawn by the silken cord of God's love or we may be'holden by the cords' of our sins.

In both clauses of our text evil deeds done are regarded as having astrange, solemn life apart from the doer of them, by which they becomeinfluential factors in his subsequent life. Their issues on others maybe important, but their issues on him are the most important of all.The recoil of the gun on the shoulder of him who fired it is certain,whether the cartridge that flew from its muzzle wounded anything ornot. 'His own iniquities shall take the wicked'—they ring him round,a grim company to whom he has given an independent being, and who havenow 'taken' him prisoner and laid violent hands on him. A long sinceforgotten novel told of the fate of 'a modern Prometheus,' who madeand put life into a dreadful creature in man's shape, that became thecurse of its creator's life. That tragedy is repeated over and overagain. We have not done with our evil deeds when we have done them,but they, in a very terrible sense, begin to be when they are done. Wesow the seeds broadcast, and the seed springs up dragon's teeth.

The view of human experience set forth, especially in the secondclause of this text, directs our gaze into dark places, into which itis not pleasant to look, and many of you will accuse me of preachinggloomily if I try to turn a reflective eye inwards upon them, but noone will be able to accuse me of not preaching truly. It is impossibleto enumerate all the cords that make up the net in which our own evildoings hold us meshed, but let me point out some of these.

I. Our evil deeds become evil habits.

We all know that anything once done becomes easier to do again. Thatis true about both good and bad actions, but 'ill weeds grow apace,'and it is infinitely easier to form a bad habit than a good one. Theyoung shoot is green and flexible at first, but it soon becomes woodyand grows high and strikes deep. We can all verify the statement ofour text by recalling the tremors of conscience, the self-disgust, thedread of discovery which accompanied the first commission of some evildeed, and the silence of undisturbed, almost unconscious facility,that accompanied later repetitions of it. Sins of sense and animalpassion afford the most conspicuous instances of this, but it is by nomeans confined to these. We have but to look steadily at our own livesto be aware of the working of this solemn law in them, however clearwe may be of the grosser forms of evil deeds. For us all it is truethat custom presses on us 'with a weight, heavy as frost and deepalmost as life,' and that it is as hard for the Ethiopian to changehis skin or the leopard his spots as for those who 'are accustomed todo evil' to 'do good.'

But experience teaches not only that evil deeds quickly consolidateinto evil habits, but that as the habit grips us faster, the poorpleasure for the sake of which the acts are done diminishes. The zestwhich partially concealed the bitter taste of the once eagerlyswallowed morsel is all but gone, but the morsel is still sought andswallowed. Impulses wax as motives wane, the victim is like an oxtempted on the road to the slaughter-house at first by succulentfodder held before it, and at last driven into it by pricking goadsand heavy blows. Many a man is so completely wrapped in the net whichhis own evil deeds have made for him, that he commits the sin oncemore, not because he finds any pleasure in it, but for no betterreason than that he has already committed it often, and the habit ishis master.

There are many forms of evil which compel us to repeat them for otherreasons than the force of habit. For instance, a fraudulentbook-keeper has to go on making false entries in his employer's booksin order to hide his peculations. Whoever steps on to the steeplysloping road to which self-pleasing invites us, soon finds that he ison an inclined plane well greased, and that compulsion is on him to goon, though he may recoil from the descent, and be shudderingly awareof what the end must be. Let no man say, 'I will do this doubtfulthing once only, and never again.' Sin is like an octopus, and if theloathly thing gets the tip of one slender filament round a man, itwill envelop him altogether and drag him down to the cruel beak.

Let us then remember how swiftly deeds become habits, and how thefetters, which were silken at first, rapidly are exchanged for ironchains, and how the craving increases as fast as the pleasure fromgratifying it diminishes. Let us remember that there are many kinds ofevil which seem to force their own repetition, in order to escapetheir consequences and to hide the sin. Let us remember that no mancan venture to say, 'This once only will I do this thing.' Let usremember that acts become habits with dreadful swiftness, and let usbeware that we do not forge chains of darkness for ourselves out ofour own godless deeds.

II. Our evil deeds imprison us for good.

The tragedy of human life is that we weave for ourselves manacles thatfetter us from following and securing the one good for which we aremade. Our evil past holds us in a firm grip. The cords which confineour limbs are of our own spinning. What but ourselves is the reasonwhy so many of us do not yield to God's merciful drawings of us toHimself? We have riveted the chains and twined the net that holds uscaptive, by our own acts. It is we ourselves who have paralysed ourwills, so that we see the light of God but as a faint gleam far away,and dare not move to follow the gleam. It is we who have smothered orsilenced our conscience and perverted our tastes, and done violence toall in us that 'thirsteth for God, even the living God.' Alas! howmany of us have let some strong evil habit gain such a grip of us thatit has overborne our higher impulses, and silenced the voice within usthat cries out for the living God! We are kept back from Him by ourworse selves, and whoever lets that which is lowest in him keep himfrom following after God, who is his 'being's end and aim,' is caughtand prisoned by the cords woven and knitted out of his sins. Are therenone of us who know, when they are honest with themselves, that theywould have been true Christians long since, had it not been for onedarling evil that they cannot make up their minds to cast off? Willsdisabled from strongly willing the good, consciences silenced as whenthe tongue is taken out of a bell-buoy on a shoal, tastes pervertedand set seeking amid the transitory treasures of earth for what Godonly can give them, these are the 'cords' out of which are knotted thenets that hold so many of us captive, and hinder our feet fromfollowing after God, even the living God, in following and possessingwhom is the only liberty of soul, the one real joy of life.

III. Our evil deeds work their own punishment.

I do not venture to speak of the issues beyond the grave. It is notfor a man to press these on his brethren. But even from the standpointof this Book of Proverbs, it is certain that 'the righteous shall berecompensed in the earth, much more the wicked and the sinner.'Probably it was the earthly consequences of wrongdoing that were inthe mind of the proverb-maker. And we are not to let our Christianenlightenment as to the future rob us of the certainty, written largeon human life here and now, that with whatever apparent exceptions inregard to prosperous sin and tried righteousness, it is yet true that'every transgression and disobedience receives its just recompense ofreward.' Life is full of consequences of evil-doing. Even here and nowwe reap as we have sown. Every sin is a mistake, even if we confineour view to the consequences sought for in this life by it, and theconsequences actually encountered. 'A rogue is a roundabout fool.'True, we believe that there is a future reaping so complete that itmakes the partial harvests gathered here seem of small account. Butthe framer of this proverb, who had little knowledge of that future,had seen enough in the meditative survey of this present to make himsure that the consequences of evil-doing were certain, and in a verytrue sense, penal. And leaving out of sight all that lies in the darkbeyond, surely if we sum up the lamed aspirations, the pervertedtastes, the ossifying of noble emotions, the destruction of thebalance of the nature, the blinding of the eye of the soul, thelowering and narrowing of the whole nature, and many another wound tothe best in man that come as the sure issue of evil deeds, we do notneed to doubt that every sinful man is miserably 'holden with thecords of his sin.' Life is the time for sowing, but it is a time forreaping too, and we do not need to wait for death to experience thetruth of the solemn warning that 'he who soweth to the flesh shall ofthe flesh reap corruption.' Let us, then, do no deeds without askingourselves, What will the harvest be? and if from any deeds that wehave done we have to reap sorrow or inward darkness, let us bethankful that by experience our Father is teaching us how bitter aswell as evil a thing it is to forsake Him, and cast off His fear fromour wayward spirits.

IV. The cords can be loosened.

Bitter experience teaches that the imprisoning net clings too tightlyto be stripped from our limbs by our own efforts. Nay rather, the netand the captive are one, and he who tries to cast off the oppressionwhich hinders him from following that which is good is trying to castoff himself. The desperate problem that fronts every effort atself-emendation has two bristling impossibilities in it: one, how toannihilate the past; one, how to extirpate the evil that is part of myvery self, and yet to keep the self entire. The very terms of theproblem show it to be insoluble, and the climax of all honest effortsat making a clean thing of an unclean by means within reach of theunclean thing itself, is the despairing cry, 'O wretched man that Iam! who shall deliver me out of the body of this death?'

But to men writhing in the grip of a sinful past, or paralysed beyondwrithing, and indifferent, because hopeless, or because they have cometo like their captivity, comes one whose name is 'the Breaker,' whosemission it is to proclaim liberty to the captives, and whose hand laidon the cords that bind a soul, causes them to drop harmless from thelimbs and sets the bondsman free. Many tongues praise Jesus for manygreat gifts, but His proper work, and that peculiar to Himself alone,is His work on the sin and the sins of the world. He deals with thatwhich no man can deal with for himself or by his own power. He cancancel our past, so that it shall not govern our future. He can givenew power to fight the old habits. He can give a new life which owesnothing to the former self, and is free from taint from it. He canbreak the entail of sin, the 'law of the spirit of life in ChristJesus' can make any of us, even him who is most tied and bound by thechain of his sins, 'free from the law of sin and death.' We cannotbreak the chains that fetter us, and our own struggles, like theplungings of a wild beast caught in the toils, but draw the bondstighter. But the chains that cannot be broken can be melted, and itmay befall each of us as it befell the three Hebrews in the furnace,when the king 'was astonished' and asked, 'Did not we cast three menbound into the midst of the fire?' and wonderingly declared, 'Lo, Isee four men loose walking in the midst of the fire, and the aspect ofthe fourth is like a son of the gods.'

WISDOM'S GIFT

'That I may cause those that love me to inherit substance.'—PROVERBSviii. 21.

The word here rendered 'substance' is peculiar. Indeed, it is used ina unique construction in this passage. It means 'being' or'existence,' and seems to have been laid hold of by the Hebrewthinkers, from whom the books commonly called 'the Wisdom Books' come,as one of their almost technical expressions. 'Substance' may be usedin our translation in its philosophical meaning as the supposedreality underlying appearances, but if we observe that in the parallelfollowing clause we find 'treasures,' it seems more likely that in thetext, it is to be taken in its secondary, and much debased meaning ofwealth, material possessions. But the prize held out here to thelovers of heavenly wisdom is much more than worldly good. In deepesttruth, the being which is theirs is God Himself. They who love andseek the wisdom of this book possess Him, and in possessing Him becomepossessed of their own true being. They are owners and lords ofthemselves, and have in their hearts a fountain of life, because theyhave God dwelling with and in them.

I. The quest which always finds.

'Those who love wisdom' might be a Hebrew translation of'philosopher,' and possibly the Jewish teachers of wisdom wereinfluenced by Greece, but their conception of wisdom has a deepersource than the Greek had, and what they meant by loving it was awidely different attitude of mind and heart from that of the Greekphilosopher. It could never be said of the disciples of a Plato thattheir quest was sure to end in finding what they sought. Many a manthen, and many a man since, and many a man to-day, has 'followedknowledge, like a sinking star,' and has only caught a glimmer of afar-off and dubious light. There is only one search which is certainalways to find what it seeks, and that is the search which knows wherethe object of it is, and seeks not as for something the locality ofwhich is unknown, but as for that which the place of which is certain.The manifold voices of human aims cry, 'Who will show us any good?'The seeker who is sure to find is he who prays, 'Lord, lift Thou upthe light of Thy countenance upon us.' The heart that truly andsupremely affects God is never condemned to seek in vain. The Wisdomof this book herself is presented as proclaiming, 'They that seek meearnestly shall find me,' and humble souls in every age since thenhave set to their seal that the word is true to their experience. Forthere are two seekers in every such case, God and man. 'The Fatherseeketh such to worship Him,' and His love goes through the world,yearning and searching for hearts that will turn to Him. The shepherdseeks for the lost sheep, and lays it on his shoulders to bear it backto the fold. Jesus Christ is the incarnation of the seeking love ofGod. And the human seeker finds God, or rather is found by God, for noaspiration after Him is vain, no longing unresponded to, no effort tofind Him unresponded to. We have as much of God as we wish, as much asour desires have fitted us to receive. The all-penetrating atmosphereenters every chink open to it, and no seeking soul has ever had tosay, 'I sought Him but found Him not.'

Is there any other quest of which the same can be said? Are not allpaths of human effort strewed with the skeletons of men who havefretted and toiled away their lives in vain attempts to grasp aimsthat have eluded their grip? Do we not all know the sickness ofdisappointed effort, or the sadder sickness of successful effort,which has secured the apparent good and found it not so good afterall? The Christian life is, amid all the failures of human effort, theonly life in which the seeking after good is but a little less blessedthan the finding of it is, and in which it is always true that 'hethat seeketh findeth.' Nor does such finding deaden the spirit ofseeking, for in every finding there is a fresh discovery of new depthsin God, and a consequent quickening of desire to press further intothe abyss of His Being, so that aspiration and fruition ever begeteach other, and the upward, Godward progress of the soul is eternal.

II. The finding that is always blessed.

We have seen that being is the gift promised to the lovers of wisdom,and that the promise may either be referred to the possession of God,who is the fountain of all being, or to the true possession ofourselves, which is a consequence of our possession of Him. In eitheraspect, that possession is blessedness. If we have God, we have reallife. We truly own ourselves when we have God. We really live when Godlives in us, the life of our lives. We are ourselves, when we haveceased to be ourselves, and have taken God to be the Self ofourselves.

Such a life, God-possessing, brings the one good which corresponds toour whole nature. All other good is fragmentary, and being fragmentaryis inadequate, as men's restless search after various forms of goodbut too sadly proves. Why does the merchantman wander over sea andland seeking for many goodly pearls? Because he has not found one ofgreat price, but tries to make up by their number for theinsufficiency of each. But the soul is made, not to find its wealth inthe manifold but in the one, and no aggregation of incompletenesseswill make up completeness, nor any number of partial satisfactions ofthis and the other appetite or desire make a man feel that he hasenough and more than enough. We must have all good in one Person, ifwe are ever to know the rest of full satisfaction. It will be fatal toour blessedness if we have to resort to a hundred different sourcesfor different supplies. The true blessedness is simple and yetinfinitely complex, for it comes from possessing the one Person inwhom dwell for us all forms of good, whether good be understood asintellectual or moral or emotional. That which cannot be everything tothe soul that seeks is scarcely worth the seeking, and certainly isnot wisely proposed as the object of a life's search, for such a lifewill be a failure if it fails to find its object, and scarcely lesstragically, though perhaps less conspicuously, a failure if it findsit. All other good is but apparent; God is the one real object thatmeets all man's desires and needs, and makes him blessed with realblessedness, and fills the cup of life with the draught that slakesthirst and satisfies the thirstiest.

III. The blessedness that always lasts.

He who finds God, as every one of us may find Him, in Christ, hasfound a Good that cannot change, pass, or grow stale. His blessednesswill always last, as long as he keeps fast hold of that which he has,and lets no man take his crown.

For the Christian's good is the only one that does not intend to growold and pall. We can never exhaust God. We need never grow weary ofHim. Possession robs other wealth of its glamour, and other pleasuresof their poignant sweetness. We grow weary of most good things, andthose which we have long had, we generally find get somewhat faded andstale. Habit is a fatal enemy to enjoyment. But it only adds to thejoy which springs from the possession of God in Christ. Swedenborgsaid that the oldest angels look the youngest, and they who havelongest experience of the joy of fellowship with God are they whoenjoy each instance of it most. We can never drink the chalice of Hislove to the dregs, and it will be fresh and sparkling as long as wehave lips that can absorb it. He keeps the good wine till the last.

The Christian's good is the only good which cannot be taken away. Lossand change beggars the millionaire sometimes, and the possibility ofloss shadows all earthly good with pale foreboding. Everything that isoutside the substance of the soul can be withdrawn, but the possessionof God in Christ is so intimate and inward, so interwoven with thevery deepest roots of the Christian's personal being, that it cannotbe taken out from these by any shocks of time or change. There is butone hand that can end that possession and that is his own. He canwithdraw himself from God, by giving himself over to sin and theworld. He can empty the shrine and compel the indwelling deity to say,as the legend told was heard in the Temple the night before Romansoldiers desecrated the Holy of Holies: Let us depart. But besideshimself, 'neither things present, nor things to come, nor height nordepth, nor any other creature' has power to take away that faithfulGod to whom a poor soul clings, and in whom whoso thus clings findsits unchangeable good.

The Christian's good is the only one from which we cannot be taken. Agrim psalm paints for us the life and end of men 'who trust in themultitude of their possessions,' and whose 'inward thought is thatthey have founded families that will last.' It tells how 'this theirway is folly,' and yet is approved with acclamations by the crowd. Itlets us see the founder of a family, the possessor of broad acres,going down to the grave, carrying nothing away, stripped of his gloryand with Death for his shepherd, who has driven his flock frompleasant pastures here into the dreariness of Sheol. But that shepherdhas a double office. Some he separates from all their possessions,hopes, and joys. Some he, stern though his aspect and harsh though hisguidance, leads up to the green pastures of God, and as the lastmessenger of the love of God in Christ, unites the souls that foundGod amid the distractions of earth with the God whom they will knowbetter and possess more fully and blessedly, amid the unendingfelicities and progressive blessednesses of Heaven.

WISDOM AND CHRIST

'Then I was by him, as one brought up with him: and I was daily hisdelight, rejoicing always before him; 31. Rejoicing in the habitablepart of his earth; and my delights were with the sons ofmen.'—PROVERBS viii. 30, 31.

There is a singular difference between the two portions of this Bookof Proverbs. The bulk of it, beginning with chapter x., contains acollection of isolated maxims which may be described as the product ofsanctified common sense. They are shrewd and homely, but notremarkably spiritual or elevated. To these is prefixed thisintroductory portion, continuous, lofty in style, and in itspersonification of divine wisdom, rising to great sublimity both ofthought and of expression. It seems as if the main body of the bookhad been fitted with an introduction by another hand than that of thecompilers of the various sets of proverbial sayings. It is apparentlydue to an intellectual movement, perhaps not uninfluenced by Greekthought, and chronologically the latest of the elements composing theOld Testament scriptures. In place of the lyric fervour of prophets,and the devout intuition of psalmists, we have the praise of Wisdom.But that noble portrait is no copy of the Greek conception, butcontains features peculiar to itself. She stands opposed to blatant,meretricious Folly, and seeks to draw men to herself by lofty motivesand offering pure delights. She is not a person, but she is apersonification of an aspect of the divine nature, and seeing that sheis held forth as willing to bestow herself on men, that queenly figureshadows the great truth of God's self-communication as being the endand climax of all His revelation.

We are on the wrong tack when we look for more or less completeresemblances between the 'Wisdom' of Proverbs and the 'Sophia' ofGreek thinkers. It is much rather an anticipation, imperfect but real,of Jesus than a pale reflection of Greek thought. The way for theperfect revelation of God in the incarnation was prepared by prophetand psalmist. Was it not also prepared by this vision of a Wisdomwhich was always with God, and yet had its delights with the sons ofmen, and whilst 'rejoicing always before Him,' yet rejoiced in thehabitable parts of the earth?

Let us then look, however imperfect our gaze may be, at theself-revelation in Proverbs of the personified divine Wisdom, andcompare it with the revelation of the incarnate divine Word.

I. The Self-revelation of Wisdom.

The words translated in Authorised Version, 'As one brought up withhim,' are rendered in Revised Version, 'as a master workman,' and seemintended to represent Wisdom—that is, of course, the divineWisdom—as having been God's agent in the creative act. In thepreceding context, she triumphantly proclaims her existence before His'works of old,' and that she was with God, 'or ever the earth was.'Before the everlasting mountains she was, before fountains flashed inthe light and refreshed the earth, her waters flowed. But thatpresence is not all, Wisdom was the divine agent in creation. Thatthought goes beyond the ancient one: 'He spake and it was done.'Genesis regards the divine command as the cause of creatural being.God said, 'Let there be—and there was': the forthputting of His willwas the impulse to which creatures sprang into existence at response.That is a great thought, but the meditative thinker in our text haspondered over the facts of creation, and notwithstanding all theirapparent incompletenesses and errors, has risen to the conclusion thatthey can all be vindicated as 'very good.' To him, this wonderfuluniverse is not only the product of a sovereign will, but of oneguided in its operations by all-seeing Wisdom.

Then the relation of this divine Wisdom to God is represented as beinga continual delight and a childlike rejoicing in Him, or as the wordliterally means, a 'sporting' in Him. Whatever energy of creativeaction is suggested by the preceding figure of a 'master workman,'that energy had no effort. To the divine Wisdom creation was an easytask. She was not so occupied with it as to interrupt her delight incontemplating God, and her task gave her infinite satisfaction, forshe 'rejoiced always' before Him, and she rejoiced in His habitableearth. The writer does not shrink from ascribing to the agent ofcreation something like the glow of satisfaction that we feel over apiece of well-done work, the poet's or the painter's rapture as hesees his thoughts bodied forth in melody or glowing on canvas.

But there is a greater thought than these here, for the writer adds,'and my delight was with the sons of men.' It is noteworthy that thesame word is used in the preceding verse. The 'delight of the heavenlyWisdom in God' is not unlike that directed to man. 'The sons of men'are the last, noblest work of Creation, and on them, as the shiningapex, her delight settles. The words describe not only what was truewhen man came into being, as the utmost possible climax of creaturalexcellence, but are the revelation of what still remains true.

One cannot but feel how in all this most striking disclosure of thedepths of God, a deeper mystery is on the verge of revelation. Thereis here, as we have said, a personification, but there seems to be aPerson shining through, or dimly discerned moving behind, the curtain.Wisdom is the agent of creation. She creates with ease, and increating delights in God as well as in her work, which calls for noeffort in doing, and done, is all very good. She delights most of allin the sons of men, and that delight is permanent. Does not thisunknown Jewish thinker, too, belong, as well as prophet and psalmist,to those who went before crying, Hosanna to Him that cometh in thename of the Lord? Let us turn to the New Testament and find an answerto the question.

II. The higher revelation of the divine Word.

There can be no doubt that the New Testament is committed to theteaching that the Eternal Word of God, who was incarnate in Jesus, wasthe agent of creation. John, in his profound prologue to the Gospel,utters the deepest truths in brief sentences of monosyllables, andutters them without a trace of feeling that they needed proof. To himthey are axiomatic and self evident. 'All things were made by Him.'The words are the words of a child; the thought takes a flight beyondthe furthest reach of the mind of men. Paul, too, adds his Amen whenhe proclaims that 'All things have been created through Him and untoHim, and He is before all things, and in Him all things holdtogether.' The writer of Hebrews declares a Son 'through whom also Hemade the worlds, and who upholds all things by the word of His power'and does not scruple at transferring to Jesus the grand poetry of thePsalmist who hymned 'Thou, Lord, in the beginning, hast laid thefoundation of the earth, and the heavens are the work of Thy hands.'We speak of things too deep for us when we speak of persons in theGodhead, but yet we know that the Eternal Word, which was from thebeginning, was made flesh and dwelt among us. The personified Wisdomof Proverbs is the personal Word of John's prologue. John almostquotes the former when he says 'the same was in the beginning withGod.' for his word recalls the grand declaration, 'The Lord possessedme in the beginning of His way … I was set up in the beginning orever the earth was.' Then there are two beginnings, one lost in thedepths of timeless being, one, the commencement of creative activity,and that Word was with God in the remotest, as in the nearer,beginning.

But the ancient vision of the Jewish thinker anticipated the perfectrevelation of the New Testament still further, in its thought of anunbroken communion between the personified Wisdom and God. That dimthought of perfect communion and interchange of delights flashes intowondrous clearness when we think of Him who spake of 'the glory whichI had with Thee before the foundation of the world,' and calmlydeclared: 'Thou lovedst me before the foundation of the world.' Intothat depth of mutual love we cannot look, and our eyes are toodim-sighted to bear the blaze of that flashing interchange of glory,but we shall rob the earthly life of Jesus of its pathos and savingpower, if we do not recognise that in Him the personification ofProverbs has become a person, and that when He became flesh, He notonly took on Him the garment of mortality, but laid aside 'the visiblerobes of His imperial majesty,' and that His being found in fashion asa man was humbling Himself beyond all humiliation that afterwards wasHis.

But still further, the Gospel reality fills out and completes thepersonification of Proverbs in that it shows us a divine person who soturned to 'the sons of men' that He took on Him their nature andHimself bore their sicknesses. The Jewish writer had great thoughts ofthe divine condescension, and was sure that God's love still rested onmen, sinful as they were, but not even he could foresee the miracle oflong-suffering love in the Incarnate Jesus, and he had no power ofinsight into the depths of the heart of God, that enabled him toforesee the sufferings and death of Jesus. Till that supremeself-sacrifice was a fact, it was inconceivable. Alas, now that it isa fact, to how many hearts that need it most is it still incredible.But passing all anticipation as it is, it is the root of all joy, theground of all hope, and to millions of sinful souls it is their onlyrefuge, and their sovereign example and pattern of life.

The Jewish thinker had a glimpse of a divine wisdom which delighted inman, but he did not dream of the divine stooping to share in man'ssorrows, or of its so loving humanity as to take on itself itslimitations, not only to pity these as God's images, but to take partof the same and to die. That man should minister to the divine delightis wonderful, but that God should participate in man's grief passeswonder. Thereby a new tenderness is given to the ancientpersonification, and the august form of the divine Wisdom softens andmelts into the yet more august and tender likeness of the divine Love.Nor is there only an adumbration of the redeeming love of Jesus as Hedwells among us here, but we have to remember that Jesus delights inthe sons of men when they love Him back again. All the sweet mysteriesof our loving communion with Him, and of His joy in our faith, love,and obedience, all the secret treasures of His self-impartation to,and abiding in, souls that open themselves to His entrance, aresuggested in that thought. We can minister to the joy of Jesus, andwhen He is welcomed into any heart, and any man's love answers His, Hesees of the travail of His soul and is satisfied.

III. The call of the personal Word to each of us.

The Wisdom of Proverbs is portrayed in her queenly dignity, as callingmen to herself, and promising them the satisfaction of all theirneeds. She describes herself that the description may draw men to her.The self-revelation of God is His mightiest means of attracting men toHim. We but need to know Him as He really is, in order to love Him andcling to Him. A fairer form than hers has drawn near to us, and callsus with tenderer invitations and better promises. The divine Wisdomhas become Man with 'sweet human hands and lips and eyes.' Such wasHis delight in the sons of men that He emptied Himself of His glory,and finished a greater work than that over which he presided when themountains were settled and the hills brought forth. Now He calls us,and His summons is tenderer, and gives promise of loftier blessingsthan the call of Wisdom was and did. She called to the simple, 'Comeeat ye of my bread, and drink of the wine which I have mingled.' Heinvites us: 'If any man thirst, let him come unto Me and drink,' andHe furnishes a table for us, and calls us to eat of the bread which isHis body broken for us, and to drink of the wine which is His bloodshed for many for the remission of sins. She promises 'riches andhonour, yea, durable riches and righteousness.' His voice vibrateswith sympathy, and calls the weary and heavy laden, of whom shescarcely thinks, and offers to them a gift, which may seem humbleenough beside her more dazzling offers of fruit, better than gold andrevenues, better than choice silver, but which come closer touniversal wants, the gift of rest, which is really what all men longfor, and none but they who take His yoke upon them possess. 'See thatye refuse not Him that speaketh,' for if they escaped not when theyrefused her that spake through the Jewish thinker's lips of old, 'muchmore shall not we escape, if we turn away from Him that beseecheth usfrom heaven.' Jesus is the power of God and the wisdom of God, and itis in Him crucified that our weakness and our folly are made strongand wise, and Wisdom's ancient promise is fulfilled: 'Whoso findeth mefindeth life, and shall obtain favour of the Lord.'

THE TWO-FOLD ASPECT OF THE DIVINE WORKING

'The way of the Lord is strength to the upright: but destruction shallbe to the workers of iniquity.'—PROVERBS x. 29.

You observe that the words 'shall be,' in the last clause, are asupplement. They are quite unnecessary, and in fact they rather hinderthe sense. They destroy the completeness of the antithesis between thetwo halves of the verse. If you leave them out, and suppose that the'way of the Lord' is what is spoken of in both clauses, you get a fardeeper and fuller meaning. 'The way of the Lord is strength to theupright; but destruction to the workers of iniquity.' It is the sameway which is strength to one man and ruin to another, and the moralnature of the man determines which it shall be to him. That is apenetrating word, which goes deep down. The unknown thinkers, to whosekeen insight into the facts of human life we are indebted for thisBook of Proverbs, had pondered for many an hour over the perplexed andcomplicated fates of men, and they crystallised their reflections atlast in this thought. They have in it struck upon a principle whichexplains a great many things, and teaches us a great many solemnlessons. Let us try to get a hold of what is meant, and then to lookat some applications and illustrations of the principle.

I. First, then, let me just try to put clearly the meaning and bearingof these words. 'The way of the Lord' means, sometimes in the OldTestament and sometimes in the New, religion, considered as the way inwhich God desires a man to walk. So we read in the New Testament of'the way' as the designation of the profession and practice ofChristianity; and 'the way of the Lord' is often used in the Psalmsfor the path which He traces for man by His sovereign will.

But that, of course, is not the meaning here. Here it means, not theroad in which God prescribes that we should walk, but that road inwhich He Himself walks; or, in other words, the sum of the divineaction, the solemn footsteps of God through creation, providence, andhistory. 'His goings forth are from everlasting.' 'His way is in thesea.' 'His way is in the sanctuary.' Modern language has a whole setof phrases which mean the same thing as the Jew meant by 'the way ofthe Lord,' only that God is left out. They talk about the 'current ofevents,' 'the general tendency of things,' 'the laws of humanaffairs,' and so on. I, for my part, prefer the old-fashioned'Hebraism.' To many modern thinkers the whole drift and tendency ofhuman affairs affords no sign of a person directing these. They hearthe clashing and grinding of opposing forces, the thunder as offalling avalanches, and the moaning as of a homeless wind, but theyhear the sounds of no footfalls echoing down the ages. This ancientteacher had keener ears. Well for us if we share his faith, and see inall the else distracting mysteries of life and history, 'the way ofthe Lord!'

But not only does the expression point to the operation of a personaldivine Will in human affairs, but it conceives of that operation asone, a uniform and consistent whole. However complicated, andsometimes apparently contradictory, the individual events were, therewas a unity in them, and they all converged on one result. The writerdoes not speak of 'ways,' but of 'the way,' as a grand unity. It isall one continuous, connected, consistent mode of operation frombeginning to end.

The author of this proverb believed something more about the way ofthe Lord. He believed that although it is higher than our way, still,a man can know something about it; and that whatever may beenigmatical, and sometimes almost heart-breaking, in it, one thing issure—that as we have been taught of late years in another dialect, it'makes for righteousness.' 'Clouds and darkness are round about Him,'but the Old Testament writers never falter in the conviction, whichwas the soul of all their heroism and the life blood of theirreligion, that in the hearts of the clouds and darkness, 'Justice andjudgment are the foundations of His throne.' The way of the Lord, saysthis old thinker, is hard to understand, very complicated, fullof all manner of perplexities and difficulties, and yet on the wholethe clear drift and tendency of the whole thing is discernible, and itis this: it is all on the side of good. Everything that is good, andeverything that does good, is an ally of God's, and may be sure of thedivine favour and of the divine blessing resting upon it.

And just because that is so clear, the other side is as true; the sameway, the same set of facts, the same continuous stream of tendency,which is all with and for every form of good, is all against everyform of evil. Or, as one of the Psalmists puts the same idea, 'Theeyes of the Lord are upon the righteous, and His ears are open untotheir cry. The face of the Lord is against them that do evil.' Thesame eye that beams in lambent love on 'the righteous' burns terriblyto the evil doer. 'The face of the Lord' means the side of the divinenature which is turned to us, and is manifested by His self-revealingactivity, so that the expression comes near in meaning to 'the way ofthe Lord,' and the thought in both cases is the same, that by theeternal law of His being, God's actions must all be for the good andagainst the evil.

They do not change, but a man's character determines whichaspect of them he sees and has to experience. God's way has a brightside and a dark. You may take which you like. You can lay hold of thething by whichever handle you choose. On the one side it is convex, onthe other concave. You can approach it from either side, as youplease. 'The way of the Lord' must touch your 'way.' Your cannotalter that necessity. Your path must either run parallel in the samedirection with His, and then all His power will be an impulse to bearyou onward; or it must run in the opposite direction, and then all Hispower will be for your ruin, and the collision with it will crush youas a ship is crushed like an egg-shell, when it strikes an iceberg.You can choose which of these shall befall you.

And there is a still more striking beauty about the saying, if we givethe full literal meaning to the word 'strength.' It is used by ourtranslators, I suppose, in a somewhat archaic and peculiarsignification, namely, that of a stronghold. At all events the Hebrewmeans a fortress, a place where men may live safe and secure; and ifwe take that meaning, the passage gains greatly in force and beauty.This 'way of the Lord' is like a castle for the shelter of theshelterless good man, and behind those strong bulwarks he dwellsimpregnable and safe. Just as a fortress is a security to thegarrison, and a frowning menace to the besiegers or enemies, so the'name of the Lord is a strong tower,' and the 'way of the Lord' is afortress. If you choose to take shelter within it, its massive wallsare your security and your joy. If you do not, they frown down grimlyupon you, a menace and a terror. How differently, eight hundred yearsago, Normans and Saxons looked at the square towers that were builtall over England to bridle the inhabitants! To the one they were thesign of the security of their dominion; to the other they were thesign of their slavery and submission. Torture and prison-houses theymight become; frowning portents they necessarily were. 'The way of theLord' is a castle fortress to the man that does good, and to the manthat does evil it is a threatening prison, which may become a hell oftorture. It is 'ruin to the workers of iniquity.' I pray you, settlefor yourself which of these it is to be to you.

II. And now let me say a word or two by way of application, orillustration, of these principles that are here.

First, let me remind you how the order of the universe is such thatrighteousness is life and sin is death. This universe and the fortunesof men are complicated and strange. It is hard to trace any laws,except purely physical ones, at work. Still, on the whole, things dowork so that goodness is blessedness, and badness is ruin. That is, ofcourse, not always true in regard of outward things, but even aboutthem it is more often and obviously true than we sometimes recognise.Hence all nations have their proverbs, embodying the generalisedexperience of centuries, and asserting that, on the whole, 'honesty isthe best policy,' and that it is always a blunder to do wrong. Whatmodern phraseology calls 'laws of nature,' the Bible calls 'the way ofthe Lord'; and the manner in which these help a man who conforms tothem, and hurt or kill him if he does not, is an illustration on alower level of the principle of our text. This tremendous congeries ofpowers in the midst of which we live does not care whether we go withit or against it, only if we do the one we shall prosper, and if we dothe other we shall very likely be made an end of. Try to stop a train,and it will run over you and murder you; get into it, and it willcarry you smoothly along. Our lives are surrounded with powers, whichwill carry our messages and be our slaves if we know how to commandnature by obeying it, or will impassively strike us dead if we do not.

Again, in our physical life, as a rule, virtue makes strength, sinbrings punishment. 'Riotous living' makes diseased bodies. Sins in theflesh are avenged in the flesh, and there is no need for a miracle tobring it about that he who sows to the flesh shall 'of the flesh reapcorruption.' God entrusts the punishment of the breach of the laws oftemperance and morality in the body to the 'natural' operation of suchbreach. The inevitable connection between sins against the body anddisease in the body, is an instance of the way of the Lord—the sameset of principles and facts—being strength to one man and destructionto another. Hundreds of young men in Manchester—some of whom arelistening to me now, no doubt—are killing themselves, or at least areruining their health, by flying in the face of the plain laws ofpurity and self-control. They think that they must 'have their fling,'and 'obey their instincts,' and so on. Well, if they must, thenanother 'must' will insist upon coming into play—and they must reapas they have sown, and drink as they have brewed, and the grim sayingof this book about profligate young men will be fulfilled in many ofthem. 'His bones are full of the iniquity of his youth, which shalllie down with him in the grave.' Be not deceived, God is not mocked,and His way avenges bodily transgressions by bodily sufferings.

And then, in higher regions, on the whole, goodness makes blessedness,and evil brings ruin. All the powers of God's universe, and all thetenderness of God's heart are on the side of the man that does right.The stars in their courses fight against the man that fights againstHim; and on the other side, in yielding thyself to the will of God andfollowing the dictates of His commandments, 'Thou shalt make a leaguewith the beasts of the field, and the stones of the field shall be atpeace with thee.' All things serve the soul that serves God, and allwar against him who wars against his Maker. The way of the Lord cannotbut further and help all who love and serve Him. For them all thingsmust work together for good. By the very laws of God's own being,which necessarily shape all His actions, the whole 'stream of tendencywithout us makes for righteousness.' In the one course of life we gowith the stream of divine activity which pours from the throne of God.In the other we are like men trying to row a boat up Niagara.All the rush of the mighty torrent will batter us back. Our work willbe doomed to destruction, and ourselves to shame. For ever and ever tobe good is to be well. An eternal truth lies in the facts that thesame word 'good' means pleasant and right, and that sin and sorrow areboth called 'evil.' All sin is self-inflicted sorrow, and every 'rogueis a roundabout fool.' So ask yourselves the question: 'Is my life inharmony with, or opposed to, these omnipotent laws which rule thewhole field of life?'

Still further, this same fact of the two-fold aspect and operation ofthe one way of the Lord will be made yet more evident in the future.It becomes us to speak very reverently and reticently about thematter, but I can conceive it possible that the one manifestation ofGod in a future life may be in substance the same, and yet that it mayproduce opposite effects upon oppositely disposed souls. According tothe old mystical illustration, the same heat that melts wax hardensclay, and the same apocalypse of the divine nature in another worldmay to one man be life and joy, and to another man may be terror anddespair. I do not dwell upon that; it is far too awful a thing for usto speak about to one another, but it is worth your taking to heartwhen you are indulging in easy anticipations that of course God ismerciful and will bless and save everybody after he dies. Perhaps—Ido not go any further than a perhaps—perhaps God cannot, and perhapsif a man has got himself into such a condition as it is possible for aman to get into, perhaps, like light upon a diseased eye, the purestbeam may be the most exquisite pain, and the natural instinct may beto 'call upon the rocks and the hills to fall upon them' and coverthem up in a more genial darkness from that Face, to see which shouldbe life and blessedness.

People speak of future rewards and punishments as if they were givenand inflicted by simple and divine volition, and did not stand in anynecessary connection with holiness on the one hand or with sin on theother. I do not deny that some portion of both bliss and sorrow may beof such a character. But there is a very important and wide region inwhich our actions here must automatically bring consequences hereafterof joy or sorrow, without any special retributive action of God's.

We have only to keep in view one or two things about the future whichwe know to be true, and we shall see this. Suppose a man with hismemory of all his past life perfect, and his conscience stimulated togreater sensitiveness and clearer judgment, and all opportunitiesended of gratifying tastes and appetites, whose food is in this world,while yet the soul has become dependent on them for ease and comfort,What more is needed to make a hell? And the supposition is but thestatement of a fact. We seem to forget much; but when the waters aredrained off all the lost things will be found at the bottom.Conscience gets dulled and sophisticated here. But the icy cold ofdeath will wake it up, and the new position will give new insight intothe true character of our actions. You see how often a man at the endof life has his eyes cleared to see his faults. But how much more willthat be the case hereafter! When the rush of passion is past, and youare far enough from your life to view it as a whole, holding it atarm's length, you will see better what it looks like. There is nothingimprobable in supposing that inclinations and tastes which have beennourished for a lifetime may survive the possibility of indulging themin another life, as they often do in this; and what can be worse thansuch a thirst for one drop of water, which never can be tasted more?These things are certain, and no more is needed to make sin produce,by necessary consequence, misery, and ruin; while similarly, goodnessbrings joy, peace, and blessing.

But again, the self-revelation of God has this same double aspect.

'The way of the Lord' may mean His process by which He reveals Hischaracter. Every truth concerning Him may be either a joy or a terrorto men. All His 'attributes' are builded into 'a strong tower, intowhich the righteous runneth, and is safe,' or else they are buildedinto a prison and torture-house. So the thought of God may either be ahappy and strengthening one, or an unwelcome one. 'I remembered God,and was troubled' says one Psalmist. What an awful confession—thatthe thought of God disturbed him! The thought of God to some of us isa very unwelcome one, as unwelcome as the thought of a detective to acompany of thieves. Is not that dreadful? Music is a torture to someears: and there are people who have so alienated their hearts andwills from God that the Name which should be 'their dearest faith' isnot only their 'ghastliest doubt,' but their greatest pain. Obrethren, the thought of God and all that wonderful complex of mightyattributes and beauties which make His Name should be our delight, thekey to all treasures, the end of all sorrows, our light in darkness,our life in death, our all in all. It is either that to us, or it issomething that we would fain forget. Which is it to you?

Especially the Gospel has this double aspect. Our text speaks of thedistinction between the righteous and evil doers; but how to pass fromthe one class to the other, it does not tell us. The Gospel is theanswer to that question. It tells us that though we are all 'workersof iniquity,' and must, therefore, if such a text as this were thelast word to be spoken on the matter, share in the ruin which smitesthe opponent of the divine will, we may pass from that class; and bysimple faith in Him who died on the Cross for all workers of iniquity,may become of those righteous on whose side God works in all His way,who have all His attributes drawn up like an embattled army in theirdefence, and have His mighty name for their refuge.

As the very crown of the ways of God, the work of Christ and therecord of it in the Gospel have most eminently this double aspect. Godmeant nothing but the salvation of the whole world when He sent usthis Gospel. His 'way' therein was pure, unmingled, universal love. Wecan make that great message untroubled blessing by simply acceptingit. Nothing more is needed but to take God at His word, and to closewith His sincere and earnest invitation. Then Christ's work becomesthe fortress in which we are guarded from sin and guilt, from thearrows of conscience, and the fiery darts of temptation. But if notaccepted, then it is not passive, it is not nothing. If rejected, itdoes more harm to a man than anything else can, just because, ifaccepted, it would have done him more good. The brighter the light,the darker the shadow. The pillar which symbolised the presence of Godsent down influences on either side; to the trembling crowd of theIsraelites on the one hand, to the pursuing ranks of the Egyptians onthe other; and though the pillar was one, opposite effects streamedfrom it, and it was 'a cloud and darkness to them, but it gave lightby night to these.' Everything depends on which side of the pillar youchoose to see. The ark of God, which brought dismay and death amongfalse gods and their worshippers, brought blessing into the humblehouse of Obed Edom, the man of Gath, with whom it rested for threemonths before it was set in its place in the city of David. That whichis meant to be the savour of life unto life must either be that or thesavour of death unto death.

Jesus Christ is something to each of us. For you who have heardHis name ever since you were children, your relation to Him settlesyour condition and your prospects, and moulds your character. EitherHe is for you the tried corner-stone, the sure foundation, on whichwhosoever builds will not be confounded, or He is the stone ofstumbling, against which whosoever stumbles will be broken, and whichwill crush to powder whomsoever it falls upon, 'This Child is set forthe rise' or for the fall of all who hear His name. He leaves no manat the level at which He found him, but either lifts him up nearer toGod, and purity and joy, or sinks him into an ever-descending pit ofdarkening separation from all these. Which is He to you? Something Hemust be—your strength or your ruin. If you commit your souls to Himin humble faith, He will be your peace, your life, your Heaven. If youturn from His offered grace, He will be your pain, your death, yourtorture. 'What maketh Heaven, that maketh hell.' Which do you chooseHim to be?

THE MANY-SIDED CONTRAST OF WISDOM AND FOLLY

'Whoso loveth instruction loveth knowledge: but he that hateth reproofis brutish. 2. A good man obtaineth favour of the Lord: but a man ofwicked devices will he condemn. 3. A man shall not be established bywickedness; but the root of the righteous shall not be moved. 4. Avirtuous woman is a crown to her husband: but she that maketh ashamedis as rottenness in his bones. 5. The thoughts of the righteous areright: but the counsels of the wicked are deceit. 6. The words of thewicked are to lie in wait for blood: but the mouth of the uprightshall deliver them. 7. The wicked are overthrown, and are not: but thehouse of the righteous shall stand. 8. A man shall be commendedaccording to his wisdom: but he that is of a perverse heart shall bedespised. 9. He that is despised, and hath a servant, is better thanhe that honoureth himself, and lacketh bread. 10. A righteous manregardeth the life of his beast: but the tender mercies of the wickedare cruel. 11. He that tilleth his land shall be satisfied with bread:but he that followeth vain persons is void of understanding. 12. Thewicked desireth the net of evil men: but the root of the righteousyieldeth fruit. 13. The wicked is snared by the transgression of hislips: but the just shall come out of trouble. 14. A man shall besatisfied with good by the fruit of his mouth; and the recompence of aman's hands shall be rendered unto him. 15. The way of a fool is rightin his own eyes: but he that hearkeneth unto counsel iswise.'—PROVERBS xii. 1-15.

The verses of the present passage are a specimen of the main body ofthe Book of Proverbs. They are not a building, but a heap. The stonesseldom have any mortar between them, and connection or progress is forthe most part sought in vain. But one great antithesis runs throughthe whole—the contrast of wisdom or righteousness with folly orwickedness. The compiler or author is never weary of setting out thatopposition in all possible lights. It is, in his view, the onedifference worth noting between men, and it determines their wholecharacter and fortunes. The book traverses with keen observation allthe realm of life, and everywhere finds confirmation of its greatprinciple that goodness is wisdom and sin folly.

There is something extremely impressive in this continual reiterationof that contrast. As we read, we feel as if, after all, there werenothing in the world but it and its results. That profound sense ofthe existence and far-reaching scope of the division of men into twoclasses is not the least of the benefits which a thoughtful study ofProverbs brings to us. In this lesson it is useless to attempt toclassify the verses. Slight traces of grouping appear here and there;but, on the whole, we have a set of miscellaneous aphorisms turning onthe great contrast, and setting in various lights the characters andfates of the righteous and the wicked.

The first mark of difference is the opposite feeling about discipline.If a man is wise, he will love 'knowledge'; and if he loves knowledge,he will love the means to it, and therefore will not kick againstcorrection. That is another view of trials from the one whichinculcates devout submission to a Father. It regards only the benefitsto ourselves. If we want to be taught anything, we shall not flinchfrom the rod. There must be pains undergone in order to win knowledgeof any sort, and the man who rebels against these shows that he hadrather be comfortable and ignorant than wise. A pupil who will notstand having his exercises corrected will not learn his faults. On theother hand, hating reproof is 'brutish' in the most literal sense; forit is the characteristic of animals that they do not understand thepurpose of pain, and never advance because they do not. Men can growbecause they can submit to discipline; beasts cannot improve because,except partially and in a few cases, they cannot accept correction.

The first proverb deals with wisdom or goodness in its inner source;namely, a docile disposition. The two next deal with its consequences.It secures God's favour, while its opposite is condemned; and then, asa consequence of this, the good man is established and the wickedswept away. The manifestations of God's favour and its opposite arenot to be thrown forward to a future life. Continuously the sunshineof divine love falls on the one man, and already the other iscondemned. It needs some strength of faith to look through the showsof prosperity often attending plain wickedness, and believe that it isalways a blunder to do wrong.

But a moderate experience of life will supply many instances ofprosperous villainy in trade and politics which melted away like mist.The shore is strewn with wrecks, dashed to pieces becauserighteousness did not steer. Every exchange gives examples in plenty.How many seemingly solid structures built on wrong every man has seenin his lifetime crumble like the cloud masses which the wind piles inthe sky and then dissipates! The root of the righteous is in God, andtherefore he is firm. The contrast is like that of Psalm i.—betweenthe tree with strong roots and waving greenery, and the chaff,rootless, and therefore whirled out of the threshing-floor.

The universal contrast is next applied to women; and in accordancewith the subordinate position they held in old days, the bearing ofher goodness is principally regarded as affecting her husband. Thatdoes not cover the whole ground, of course. But wherever there is atrue marriage, the wife will not think that woman's rights areinfringed because one chief issue of her beauty of virtue is thehonour and joy it reflects upon him who has her heart. 'A virtuouswoman' is not only one who possesses the one virtue to which thephrase has been so miserably confined, but who is 'a woman ofstrength'—no doll or plaything, but

'A perfect woman, nobly planned
To warn, to comfort, and command.'

The gnawing misery of being fastened like two dogs in a leash to onewho 'causes shame' is vividly portrayed by that strong figure, thatshe is like 'rottenness in his bones,' eating away strength, andinflicting disfigurement and torture.

Then come a pair of verses describing the inward and outward work ofthe two kinds of men as these affect others. The former verses dealtwith their effects on the actors; the present, with their bearing onothers. Inwardly, the good man has thoughts which scrupulously keepthe balance true and are just to his fellows, while the wicked plansto deceive for his own profit. When thoughts are translated intospeech, deceit bears fruit in words which are like ambushes ofmurderers, laying traps to destroy, while the righteous man's wordsare like angels of deliverance to the unsuspecting who are ready tofall into the snare. Selfishness, which is the root of wickedness,will be cruelty and injustice when necessary for its ends. The man whois wise because God is his centre and aim will be merciful andhelpful. The basis of philanthropy is religion. The solemn importanceattached to speech is observable. Words can slay as truly as swords.Now that the press has multiplied the power of speech, and the worldis buzzing with the clatter of tongues, we all need to lay to heartthe responsibilities and magic power of spoken and printed words, and'to set a watch on the door of our lips.'

Then follow a couple of verses dealing with the consequences to menthemselves of their contrasted characters. The first of these (verse7) recurs to the thought of verse 3, but with a difference. Not onlythe righteous himself, but his house, shall be established. Thesolidarity of the family and the entail of goodness are stronglyinsisted on in the Old Testament, though limitations are fullyrecognised. If a good man's son continues his father's character, hewill prolong his father's blessings; and in normal conditions, aparent's wisdom passes on to his children. Something is wrong when, asis so often the case, it does not; and it is not always the children'sfault.

The overthrow of the wicked is set in striking contrast with theirplots to overthrow others. Their mischief comes back, like anAustralian boomerang, to the hand that flings it; and contrariwise,delivering others is a sure way of establishing one's self. Exceptionsthere are, for the world-scheme is too complicated to be condensedinto a formula; but all proverbs speak of the average usual results ofvirtue and vice, and those of this book do the same. Verse 8 assertsthat, on the whole, honour attends goodness, and contempt wickedness.Of course, companions in dissipation extol each other's vices, andlaunch the old threadbare sneers at goodness. But if wisdom were notset uppermost in men's secret judgment, there would be no hypocrites,and their existence proves the truth of the proverb.

Verse 9 seems suggested by 'despised' in verse 8. There are two kindsof contempt—one which brands sin deservedly, one which vulgarlydespises everybody who is not rich. A man need not mind, though hismodest household is treated with contempt, if quiet righteousnessreigns in it. It is better to be contented with little, and humble ina lowly place, than to be proud and hungry, as many were in thewriter's time and since. A foolish world set on wealth may despise,but its contempt breaks no bones. Self-conceit is poor diet.

This seems to be the first of a little cluster of proverbs bearing ondomestic life. It prefers modest mediocrity of station, such as Agurdesired. Its successor shows how the contrasted qualities come out inthe two men's relation to their domestic animals. Goodness sweeps awide circle touching the throne of God and the stall of the cattle. Itwas not Coleridge who found out that 'He prayeth best who loveth best'but this old proverb-maker; and he could speak the thought without thepoet's exaggeration, which robs his expression of it of half itsvalue. The original says 'knoweth the soul' which may indeed mean,'regardeth the life' but rather seems to suggest sympathetic interestin leading to an understanding of the dumb creature, which mustprecede all wise care for its well-being. It is a part of religion totry to enter into the mysterious feelings of our humble dependants infarmyard and stable. On the other hand, for want of such sympatheticinterest, even when the 'wicked' means to be kind, he does harm; orthe word rendered 'tender mercies' may here mean the feelings(literally, 'bowels') which, in their intense selfishness, are crueleven to animals.

Verse 11 has no connection with the preceding, unless the link iscommon reference to home life and business. It contrasts the sureresults of honest industry with the folly of speculation. The RevisedVersion margin 'vain things' is better than the text 'vain persons,'which would give no antithesis to the patient tilling of the firstclause. That verse would make an admirable motto to be stretchedacross the Stock Exchange, and like places on both sides of theAtlantic. How many ruined homes and heart-broken wives witness inAmerica and England to its truth! The vulgar English proverb, 'Whatcomes over the Devil's back goes under his belly,' says the samething. The only way to get honest wealth is to work for it. Gamblingin all its forms is rank folly.

So the next proverb (verse 12) continues the same thought, and puts itin a somewhat difficult phrase. It goes a little deeper than theformer, showing that the covetousness which follows after vain things,is really wicked lusting for unrighteous gain. 'The net of evildoers'is better taken as in the margin (Rev. Ver.) 'prey' or 'spoil,' andthe meaning seems to be as just stated. Such hankering for riches, nomatter how obtained, or such envying of the booty which admittedly hasbeen won by roguery, is a mark of the wicked. How many professingchurch members have known that feeling in thinking of the millions ofsome railway king! Would they like the proverb to be applied to them?

The contrast to this is 'the root of the righteous yields fruit,' or'shoots forth,' We have heard (verse 3) that it shall never be moved,being fixed in God; now we are told that it will produce all that isneedful. A life rooted in God will unfold into all necessary good,which will be better than the spoil of the wicked. There are two waysof getting on—to struggle and fight and trample down rivals; one, tokeep near God and wait for him. 'Ye fight and war; ye have not,because ye ask not.'

The next two proverbs have in common a reference to the effect ofspeech upon the speaker. 'In the transgression of the lips is an evilsnare'; that is, sinful words ensnare their utterer, and whoever elsehe harms, he himself is harmed most. The reflex influence on characterof our utterances is not present to us, as it should be. They leavestains on lips and heart. Thoughts expressed are more definite andpermanent thereby. A vicious thought clothed in speech has new powerover the speaker. If we would escape from that danger, we mustbe righteous, and speak righteousness; and then the samecause will deepen our convictions of 'whatsoever things are lovely andof good report.'

Verse 14 insists on this opposite side of the truth. Good words willbring forth fruit, which will satisfy the speaker, because, whatevereffects his words may have on others, they will leave strengthenedgoodness and love of it in himself. 'If the house be worthy, yourpeace shall rest upon it; if not, it shall return to you again.' Thatreaction of words on oneself is but one case of the universal law ofconsequences coming back on us. We are the architects of our owndestinies. Every deed has an immortal life, and returns, either like araven or a dove, to the man who sent it out on its flight. It comesback either croaking with blood on its beak, or cooing with an olivebranch in its mouth. All life is at once sowing and reaping. A harvestcomes in which retribution will be even more entire and accurate.

The last proverb of the passage gives a familiar antithesis, andpartially returns to the thought of verse 1. The fool has no standardof conduct but his own notions, and is absurdly complacent as to allhis doings. The wise seeks better guidance than his own, and isdocile, because he is not so ridiculously sure of his infallibility.No type of weak wickedness is more abominable to the proverbialistthan that of pert self-conceit, which knows so little that it thinksit knows everything, and is 'as untameable as a fly.' But in thewisest sense, it is true that a mark of folly isself-opinionativeness; that a man who has himself for teacher has afool for scholar; that the test of wisdom is willingness to be taught;and, especially, that to bring a docile, humble spirit to the Sourceof all wisdom, and to ask counsel of God, is the beginning of trueinsight, and that the self-sufficiency which is the essence of sin, isnever more fatal than when it is ignorant of guilt, and thereforespurns a Saviour.

THE POOR RICH AND THE RICH POOR

'There is that maketh himself rich, yet hath nothing; there is thatmaketh himself poor, yet hath great riches.'—PROVERBS xiii. 7.

Two singularly-contrasted characters are set in opposition here. One,that of a man who lives like a millionaire and is a pauper; another,that of a man who lives like a pauper and is rich. The lattercharacter, that of a man who hides and hoards his wealth, was,perhaps, more common in the days when this collection of Proverbs wasput together, because in all ill-governed countries, to show wealth isa short way to get rid of it. But they have their modernrepresentatives. We who live in a commercial community have seen manya blown-out bubble soaring and glittering, and then collapsing into adrop of soapsuds, and on the other hand, we are always hearing ofnotes and bank-books being found stowed away in some wretched hovelwhere a miser has died.

Now, I do not suppose that the author of this proverb attached anykind of moral to it in his own mind. It is simply a jotting of anobservation drawn from a wide experience; and if he meant to teach anylesson by it, I suppose it was nothing more than that in regard tomoney, as to other things, we should avoid extremes, and should try toshow what we are, and to be what we seem. But whilst thus I do nottake it that there is any kind of moral or religious lesson in thewriter's mind, I may venture, perhaps, to take this saying as being apicturesque illustration, putting in vivid fashion certain greattruths which apply in all regions of life, and which find theirhighest application in regard to Christianity, and our relation toJesus Christ. There, too, 'there is that maketh himself rich, and yethath nothing; and there is that maketh himself poor, and yet'—or onemight, perhaps, say therefore—'hath great riches.' It is fromthat point of view that I wish to look at the words at this time. Imust begin with recalling to your mind,

I. Our universal poverty.

Whatever a man may think about himself, however he may estimatehimself and conceit himself, there stand out two salient facts, thefact of universal dependence, and the fact of universal sinfulness,which ought to bear into every heart the consciousness of thispoverty. A word or two about each of these two facts.

First, the fact of universal dependence. Now, wise men and deepthinkers have found a very hard problem in the question of how it ispossible that there should be an infinite God and a finite universestanding, as it were, over against Him. I am not going to trouble youwith the all-but-just-succeeding answers to that great problem whichthe various systems of thinking have given. These lie apart from mypresent purpose. But what I would point out is that, whatever else maybe dark and difficult about the co-existence of these two, theinfinite God and the finite universe, this at least is sun-clear, thatthe creature depends absolutely for everything on that infiniteCreator. People talk sometimes, and we are all too apt to think, as ifGod had made the world and left it. And we are all too apt to thinkthat, however we may owe the origination of our own personal existenceto a divine act, the act was done when we began to be, and the lifewas given as a gift that could be separated from the Bestower. Butthat is not the state of the case at all. The real fact is that lifeis only continued because of the continued operation on every livingthing, just as being is only continued by reason of the continuedoperation on every existing thing, of the Divine Power. 'In Him welive,' and the life is the result of the perpetual impartation fromHimself 'in whom all things consist,' according to the profound wordof the Apostle. Their being depends on their union with Him. If itwere possible to cut a sunbeam in two, so that the further half of itshould be separated from its vital union with the great central firefrom which it rushed long, long ago, that further half would pale intodarkness. And if you cut the connection between God and the creature,the creature shrivels into nothing. By Him the spring buds around usunfold themselves; by Him all things are. So, at the very foundationof our being there lies absolute dependence.

In like manner, all that we call faculties, capacities, and the like,are, in a far deeper sense than the conventional use of the word'gift' implies, bestowments from Him. The Old Testament goes to theroot of the matter when, speaking of the artistic and aesthetic skillof the workers in the fine arts in the Tabernacle, it says, 'theSpirit of the Lord' taught Bezaleel; and when, even in regard to thebrute strength of Samson—surely the strangest hero of faith that everexisted—it says that when 'the Spirit of the Lord came upon him,'into his giant hands there was infused the strength by which he torethe lion's jaws asunder. In like manner, all the faculties that menpossess they have simply because He has given them. 'What hast thouthat thou hast not received? If thou hast received, why dost thouboast thyself?' So there is a great psalm that gathers everything thatmakes up human life, and traces it all to God, when it says, 'Theyshall be abundantly satisfied with the fatness of Thy house,' for fromGod comes all that sustains us; 'Thou shalt make them drink of theriver of Thy pleasures,' for from God comes all that gladdens us;'with Thee is the fountain of life,' for from Him flow all the tinystreams that make the life of all that live; 'in Thy light shall wesee light,' for every power of perceiving, and all grace and lustre ofpurity, owe their source to Him. As well, then, might the pitcherboast itself of the sparkling water that it only holds, as well mightthe earthen jar plume itself on the treasure that has been depositedin it, as we make ourselves rich because of the riches that we havereceived. 'Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom, neither let themighty man glory in his strength. Let not the rich man glory in hisriches; but he that glorieth, let him glory in the Lord.'

Then, turn for a moment to the second of the facts on which thisuniversal poverty depends, and that is the fact of universalsinfulness. Ah! there is one thing that is our own—

'If any power we have, it is to will.'

We have that strange faculty, which nobody has ever thoroughlyexplained yet, but which we all know to exist, of wrenching ourselvesso far away from God, 'in whom we live and move and have our being,'that we can make our thoughts and ways, not merely lower than, butcontradictory of, and antagonistic to, His thoughts, and His ways.Conscience tells us, and we all know it, that we are the causes of ourown actions, though from Him come the powers by which we do them. Theelectricity comes from the central powerstation, but it depends on uswhat sort of wheels we make it drive, and what kind of work we set itto do. Make all allowances you like for circ*mstances—what they callnowadays 'environment,' by which formidable word some people seem tothink that they have explained away a great many difficulties—makeall allowances you like for inheritance—what they now call'heredity,' by which other magic word people seem to think that theymay largely obliterate the sense of responsibility and sin—allow asmuch as you like, in reason, for these, and there remains theindestructible consciousness in every man, 'I did it, and it was myfault that I did it; and the moral guilt remains.'

So, then, there are these two things, universal dependence anduniversal sinfulness, and on them is built the declaration ofuniversal poverty. Duty is debt. Everybody knows that the two wordscome from the same root. What we ought is what we owe. We all owe anobedience which none of us has rendered. Ten thousand talents is thedebt and—'they had nothing to pay.' We are like bankrupts that beginbusiness with a borrowed capital, by reason of our absolutedependence; and so manage their concerns as to find themselvesinextricably entangled in a labyrinth of obligations which they cannotdischarge. We are all paupers. And so I come to the second point, andthat is—

II. The poor rich man.

'There is that maketh himself rich, and yet hath nothing.' Thatdescribes accurately the type of man of whom there are thousands; ofwhom there are dozens listening to me at this moment; who ignoresdependence and is not conscious of sin, and so struts about inself-complacent satisfaction with himself, and knows nothing of histrue condition. There is nothing more tragic—and so it would be seento be if it were not so common—than that a man, laden, as we each ofus are, with a burden of evil that we cannot get rid of, should yetconceit himself to possess merits, virtues, graces, that ought tosecure for him the admiration of his fellows, or, at least, to exempthim from their censure, and which he thinks, when he thinks about itat all, may perhaps secure for him the approbation of God. 'Thedeceitfulness of sin' is one of its mightiest powers. There is nothingthat so blinds a man to the real moral character of actions as thatobstinate self-complacency which approves of a thing because it ismine. You condemn in other people the very things you do yourself. Yousee all their ugliness in them; you do not recognise it when it isyour deed. Many of you have never ventured upon a careful examinationand appraisem*nt of your own moral and religious character. You durstnot, for you are afraid that it would turn out badly. So, like someinsolvent who has not the courage to face the facts, you take refugein defective bookkeeping, and think that that is as good as beingsolvent. Then you have far too low a standard, and one of the mainreasons why you have so low a standard is just because the sins thatyou do have dulled your consciences, and like the Styrian peasantsthat eat arsenic, the poison does not poison you, and you do not feelyourself any the worse for it. Dear brethren! these are very rudethings for me to say to you. I am saying them to myself as much as toyou, and I would to God that you would listen to them, not because Isay them, but because they are true. The great bulk of us know our ownmoral characters just as little as we know the sound of our ownvoices. I suppose if you could hear yourself speak you would say, 'Inever knew that my voice sounded like that.' And I am quite sure thatmany of you, if the curtain could be drawn aside which is largelywoven out of the black yarn of your own evil thoughts, and you couldsee yourselves as in a mirror, you would say, 'I had no notion that Ilooked like that.' 'There is that maketh himself rich, and yet hathnothing.'

Ay! and more than that. The making of yourself rich is the sure way toprevent yourself from ever being so. We see that in all other regionsof life. If a student says to himself, 'Oh! I know all that subject,'the chances are that he will not get it up any more; and the furtherchance is that he will be 'ploughed' when the examination-day comes.If the artist stands before the picture, and says to himself, 'Welldone, that is the realisation of my ideal!' he will paint no moreanything worth looking at. And in any department, when a man says 'Lo!I have attained,' then he ceases to advance.

Now, bring all that to bear upon religion, upon Christ and Hissalvation, upon our own spiritual and religious and moral condition.The sense of imperfection is the salt of approximation to perfection.And the man that says 'I am rich' is condemning himself to poverty andpauperism. If you do not know your need, you will not go to look forthe supply of it. If you fancy yourselves to be quite well, though amortal disease has gripped you, you will take no medicine, nor haverecourse to any physician. If you think that you have enough good toshow for man's judgment and for God's, and have not been convinced ofyour dependence and your sinfulness, then Jesus Christ will be verylittle to you, and His great work as the Redeemer and Saviour of Hispeople from their sins will be nothing to you. And so you will condemnyourselves to have nothing unto the very end.

I believe that this generation needs few things more than it needs adeepened consciousness of the reality of sin and of the depth anddamnable nature of it. It is because people feel so little of theburden of their transgression that they care so little for that gentleHand that lifts away their burden. It is because from much of popularreligion—and, alas! that I should have to say it, from much ofpopular preaching—there has vanished the deep wholesome sense ofpoverty, that, from so much of popular religion, and preaching too,there has faded away the central light of the Gospel, the proclamationof the Cross by which is taken away the sin of the whole world.

So, lastly, my text brings before us—

III. The rich poor man.

'There is that maketh himself poor and yet'—or, as varied, theexpression is, 'therefore hath great riches.' Jesus Christ has liftedthe thoughts in my text into the very region into which I am trying tobring them, when in the first of all the Beatitudes, as they arecalled, 'He opened His mouth and said, Blessed are the poor in spirit,for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.' Poor, and therefore an owner ofa kingdom! Now I need not, at this stage of my sermon, insist upon thefact that that consciousness of poverty is the only fitting attitudefor any of us to take up in view of the two facts with which Istarted, the fact of our dependence and the fact of our sinfulness.What absurdity it seems for a man about whom these two things aretrue, that, as I said, he began with a borrowed capital, and has onlyincurred greater debts in his transactions, there should be anyfoothold left in his own estimation on which he can stand and claim tobe anything but the pauper that he is. Oh! brethren, of all thehallucinations that we put upon ourselves in trying to believe thatthings are as we wish, there is none more subtle, more obstinate, moredeeply dangerous than this, that a man full of evil should be soignorant of his evil as to say, like that Pharisee in our Lord'sparable, 'I thank Thee that I am not as other men are. I give tithes… I pray … I am this, that, and the other thing; not like thatwretched publican over there.' Yes, this is the fit attitude forus,—'He would not so much as lift up his eyes to heaven.'

Then let me remind you that this wholesome recognition of facts aboutourselves as they are is the sure way to possess the wealth. Ofcourse, it is possible for a man by some mighty influence or otherbrought to bear upon him, to see himself as God sees him, and then, ifthere is nothing more than that, he is tortured with 'the sorrow thatworketh death.' Judas 'went out and hanged himself'; Peter 'went outand wept bitterly.' The one was sent 'to his own place,' wherever thatwas; the other was sent foremost of the Twelve. If you see yourpoverty, let self-distrust be the nadir, the lowest point, and letfaith be the complementary high point, the zenith. The rebound fromself-distrust to trust in Christ is that which makes the consciousnessof poverty the condition of receiving wealth.

And what wealth it is!—the wealth of a peaceful conscience, of aquiet heart, of lofty aims, of a pure mind, of strength according toour need, of an immortal hope, of a treasure in the heavens thatfaileth not, 'where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt; where thievesdo not break through nor steal.' Blessed be God! the more we have theriches of glory in Christ Jesus, the more shall we feel that we havenothing, and that all is His, and none of it ours. And so, as therivers run in the valleys, and the high mountain-tops are dry andbarren, the grace which makes us rich will run in the low ground ofour conscious humiliation and nothingness.

Dear brother! do you estimate yourself as you are? Have you takenstock of yourself? Have you got away from the hallucination ofpossessing wealth? Has your sense of need led you to cease from trustin yourself, and to put all your trust in Jesus Christ? Have you takenthe wealth which He freely gives to all who sue in formapauperis? He does not ask you to bring anything but debts andsins, emptiness and weakness, and penitent faith. He will strengthenthe weakness, fill the emptiness, forgive the sins, cancel the debts,and make you 'rich toward God.' I beseech you to listen to Him,speaking from heaven, and taking up the strain of this text: 'Becausethou sayest I am rich, and increased with goods, and have need ofnothing; and knowest not that thou art wretched, and miserable, andpoor, and blind, and naked, I counsel thee to buy of Me gold tried inthe fire, that thou mayest be rich.' And then you will be of thoseblessed poor ones who are 'rich through faith, and heirs of theKingdom.'

THE TILLAGE OF THE POOR

'Much food is in the tillage of the poor.'—PROVERBS xiii. 23.

Palestine was a land of small peasant proprietors, and the institutionof the Jubilee was intended to prevent the acquisition of largeestates by any Israelite. The consequence, as intended, was a level ofmodest prosperity. It was 'the tillage of the poor,' the careful,diligent husbandry of the man who had only a little patch of land tolook after, that filled the storehouses of the Holy Land. Hence theproverb of our text arose. It preserves the picture of the economicalconditions in which it originated, and it is capable of, and isintended to have, an application to all forms and fields of work. Inall it is true that the bulk of the harvested results are due, not tothe large labours of the few, but to the minute, unnoticed toils ofthe many. Small service is true service, and the aggregate of suchproduces large crops. Spade husbandry gets most out of the ground. Thelabourer's allotment of half an acre is generally more prolific thanthe average of the squire's estate. Much may be made of slender gifts,small resources, and limited opportunities if carefully cultivated, asthey should be, and as their very slenderness should stimulate theirbeing.

One of the psalms accuses 'the children of Ephraim' because, 'beingarmed and carrying bows, they turned back in the day of battle.' Thatsaying deduces obligation from equipment, and preaches a stringentcode of duty to those who are in any direction largely gifted. Powerto its last particle is duty, and not small is the crime of those who,with great capacities, have small desire to use them, and leave thebrunt of the battle to half-trained soldiers, badly armed.

But the imagery of the fight is not sufficient to include all aspectsof Christian effort. The peaceful toil of the 'husbandman thatlabours' stands, in one of Paul's letters, side by side with theheroism of the 'man that warreth.' Our text gives us the former image,and so supplements that other.

It completes the lesson of the psalm in another respect, as insistingon the importance, not of the well endowed, but of the slenderlyfurnished, who are immensely in the majority. This text is a messageto ordinary, mediocre people, without much ability or influence.

I. It teaches, first, the responsibility of small gifts.

It is no mere accident that in our Lord's great parable He representsthe man with the one talent as the hider of his gift. There isa certain pleasure in doing what we can do, or fancy we can do, well.There is a certain pleasure in the exercise of any kind of gift, be itof body or mind; but when we know that we are but very slightly giftedby Him, there is a temptation to say, 'Oh! it does not matter muchwhether I contribute my share to this, that, or the other work or no.I am but a poor man. My half-crown will make but a small difference inthe total. I am possessed of very little leisure. The few minutes thatI can spare for individual cultivation, or for benevolent work, willnot matter at all. I am only an insignificant unit; nobody pays anyattention to my opinion. It does not in the least signify whether Imake my influence felt in regard of social, religious, or politicalquestions, and the like. I can leave all that to the more influentialmen. My littleness at least has the prerogative of immunity. My littlefinger would produce such a slight impact on the scale that it isindifferent whether I apply it or not. It is a good deal easier for meto wrap up my talent—which, after all, is only a threepenny bit, andnot a talent—and put it away and do nothing.'

Yes, but then you forget, dear friend! that responsibility does notdiminish with the size of the gifts, but that there is as greatresponsibility for the use of the smallest as for the use of thelargest, and that although it does not matter very much to anybody butyourself what you do, it matters all the world to you.

But then, besides that, my text tells us that it does matter whetherthe poor man sets himself to make the most of his little patch ofground or not. 'There is much food in the tillage of the poor.' Theslenderly endowed are the immense majority. There is a genius or twohere and there, dotted along the line of the world's and the Church'shistory. The great men and wise men and mighty men and wealthy men maybe counted by units, but the men that are not very much of anythingare to be counted by millions. And unless we can find some stringentlaw of responsibility that applies to them, the bulk of the human racewill be under no obligation to do anything either for God or for theirfellows, or for themselves. If I am absolved from the task of bringingmy weight to bear on the side of right because my weight isinfinitesimal, and I am only one in a million, suppose all the millionwere to plead the same excuse; what then? Then there would not be anyweight on the side of the right at all. The barns in Palestine werenot filled by farming on a great scale like that pursued away out onthe western prairies, where one man will own, and his servants willplough a furrow for miles long, but they were filled by the smallindustries of the owners of tiny patches.

The 'tillage of the poor,' meaning thereby not the mendicant, but thepeasant owner of a little plot, yielded the bulk of the 'food.' Thewholesome old proverb, 'many littles make a mickle,' is as true aboutthe influence brought to bear in the world to arrest evil and tosweeten corruption as it is about anything besides. Christ has a greatdeal more need of the cultivation of the small patches that He givesto the most of us than He has even of the cultivation of the largeestates that He bestows on a few. Responsibility is not to be measuredby amount of gift, but is equally stringent, entire, and absolutewhatsoever be the magnitude of the endowments from which it arises.

Let me remind you, too, how the same virtues and excellences can bepractised in the administering of the smallest as in that of thegreatest gifts. Men say—I dare say some of you have said—'Oh! if Iwere eloquent like So-and-so; rich like somebody else; a man of weightand importance like some other, how I would consecrate my powers tothe Master! But I am slow of speech, or nobody minds me, or I have butvery little that I can give.' Yes! 'He that is faithful in that whichis least is faithful also in much.' If you do not utilise the capacitypossessed, to increase the estate would only be to increase the cropof weeds from its uncultivated clods. We never palm off a greaterdeception on ourselves than when we try to hoodwink conscience bypleading bounded gifts as an excuse for boundless indolence, and topersuade ourselves that if we could do more we should be less inclinedto do nothing. The most largely endowed has no more obligation and nofairer field than the most slenderly gifted lies under and possesses.

All service coming from the same motive and tending to the same end isthe same with God. Not the magnitude of the act, but the motivethereof, determines the whole character of the life of which it is apart. The same graces of obedience, consecration, quick sympathy,self-denying effort may be cultivated and manifested in the spendingof a halfpenny as in the administration of millions. The smallestrainbow in the tiniest drop that hangs from some sooty eave andcatches the sunlight has precisely the same lines, in the same order,as the great arch that strides across half the sky. If you go to theGiant's Causeway, or to the other end of it amongst the ScotchHebrides, you will find the hexagonal basaltic pillars all ofidentically the same pattern and shape, whether their height bemeasured by feet or by tenths of an inch. Big or little, they obeyexactly the same law. There is 'much food in the tillage of the poor.'

II. But now, note, again, how there must be a diligent cultivation ofthe small gifts.

The inventor of this proverb had looked carefully and sympatheticallyat the way in which the little peasant proprietors worked; and he sawin that a pattern for all life. It is not always the case, of course,that a little holding means good husbandry, but it is generally so;and you will find few waste corners and few unweeded patches on theground of a man whose whole ground is measured by rods instead of bymiles. There will usually be little waste time, and few neglectedopportunities of working in the case of the peasant whose subsistence,with that of his family, depends on the diligent and wise cropping ofthe little patch that does belong to him.

And so, dear brethren! if you and I have to take our place in theranks of the one-talented men, the commonplace run of ordinary people,the more reason for us to enlarge our gifts by a sedulous diligence,by an unwearied perseverance, by a keen look-out for all opportunitiesof service, and above all by a prayerful dependence upon Him from whomalone comes the power to toil, and who alone gives the increase. Theless we are conscious of large gifts the more we should be bowed independence on Him from whom cometh 'every good and perfect gift'; andwho gives according to His wisdom; and the more earnestly should weuse that slender possession which God may have given us. Industryapplied to small natural capacity will do far more than larger powerrusted away by sloth. You all know that it is so in regard of dailylife, and common business, and the acquisition of mundane sciences andarts. It is just as true in regard to the Christian race, and to theChristian Church's work of witness.

Who are they who have done the most in this world for God and for men?The largely endowed men? 'Not many wise, not many mighty, not manynoble are called.' The coral insect is microscopic, but it will buildup from the profoundest depth of the ocean a reef against which thewhole Pacific may dash in vain. It is the small gifts that, after all,are the important ones. So let us cultivate them the more earnestlythe more humbly we think of our own capacity. 'Play well thy part;there all the honour lies.' God, who has builded up some of thetowering Alps out of mica-flakes, builds up His Church out ofinfinitesimally small particles—slenderly endowed men touched by theconsecration of His love.

III. Lastly, let me remind you of the harvest reaped from theseslender gifts when sedulously tilled.

Two great results of such conscientious cultivation and use of smallresources and opportunities may be suggested as included in thatabundant 'food' of which the text speaks.

The faithfully used faculty increases. 'To him that hath shall begiven.' 'Oh! if I had a wider sphere how I would flame in it, and fillit!' Then twinkle your best in your little sphere, and that will bringa wider one some time or other. For, as a rule, and in the general,though with exceptions, opportunities come to the man that can usethem; and roughly, but yet substantially, men are set in this worldwhere they can shine to the most advantage to God. Fill your place;and if you, like Paul, have borne witness for the Master in littleJerusalem, He will not keep you there, but carry you to bear witnessfor Him in imperial Rome itself.

The old fable of the man who told his children to dig all over thefield and they would find treasure, has its true application in regardto Christian effort and faithful stewardship of the gifts bestowedupon us. The sons found no gold, but they improved the field, andsecured its bearing golden harvests, and they strengthened their ownmuscles, which was better than gold. So if we want larger endowmentslet us honestly use what we possess, and use will make growth.

The other issue, about which I need not say more than a word, is thatthe final reward of all faithful service—'Enter thou into the joy ofthy Lord' is said, not to the brilliant, but to the 'faithful'servant. In that great parable, which is the very text-book of thiswhole subject of gifts and responsibilities and recompense, the menwho were entrusted with unequal sums used these unequal sums withequal diligence, as is manifest by the fact that they realised anequal rate of increase. He that got two talents made two more out ofthem, and he that had five did no more; for he, too, but doubled hiscapital. So, because the poorer servant with his two, and the richerwith his ten, had equally cultivated their diversely-measured estates,they were identical in reward; and to each of them the same thing issaid: 'Enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.' It matters little whetherwe copy some great picture upon a canvas as big as the side of ahouse, or upon a thumbnail; the main thing is that we copy it. If wetruly employ whatsoever gifts God has given to us, then we shall beaccepted according to that we have, and not according to that we havenot.

SIN THE MOCKER

'Fools make a mock at sin; but among the righteous there isfavour.'—Proverbs xiv, 9.

The wisdom of this Book of Proverbs is not simply intellectual, but ithas its roots in reverence and obedience to God, and for itsaccompaniment, righteousness. The wise man is the good man, and thegood man is the godly man. And as is wisdom, so its opposite, folly,is not only intellectual feebleness—the bad man is a fool, and thegodless is a bad man. The greatest amount of brain-power cultivated tothe highest degree does not make a man wise, and about many a studentand thinker God pronounces the sentence 'Thou fool!'

That does not mean that all sin is ignorance, as we sometimes hear itsaid with a great show of tolerant profundity. There is some ignorancein all sin, but the essence of sin is the aversion of the will from alaw and from a Person, not the defect of the understanding. So farfrom all sin being but ignorance, and therefore blameless, there is nosin without knowledge, and the measure of ignorance is the measure ofblamelessness; unless the ignorance be itself, as it often is,criminal. Ignorance is one thing, folly is another.

One more remark by way of introduction must be made on the language ofour text. The margin of the Revised Version correctly turns itcompletely round, and for 'the foolish make a mock at guilt,' wouldread, 'guilt mocketh at the foolish.' In the original the verb in ourtext is in the singular, and the only singular noun to go with it is'guilt.' The thought then here is, that sin tempts men into itsclutches, and then gibes and taunts them. It is a solemn and painfulsubject, but perhaps this text rightly pondered may help to save someof us from hearing the mocking laugh which echoes through the emptychambers of many an empty soul.

I. Sin mocks us by its broken promises.

The object immediately sought by any wrong act may be attained. Insins of sense, the appetite is gratified; in other sins, the desirethat urged to them attains its end. But what then? The temptation layin the imagination that, the wrong thing being done, an inward goodwould result, and it does not; for even if the immediate object besecured, other results, all unforeseen, force themselves on us whichspoil the hoped for good. The sickle cuts down tares as well as wheat,and the reaper's hands are filled with poisonous growths as well aswith corn. There is a revulsion of feeling from the thing that beforethe sin was done attracted. The hideous story of the sin of David'sson, Amnon, puts in ugliest shape the universal experience of men whoare tempted to sin and are victims of the revulsion that follows—He'hated her exceedingly, so that the hatred wherewith he hated her wasgreater than the love wherewith he had loved her.' Conscience, whichwas overpowered and unheard amid the loud cries of desire, speaks. Wefind out the narrow limits of satisfaction. The satisfied appetite hasno further driving power, but lies down to sleep off its debauch, andceases to be a factor for the time. Inward discord, the schism betweenduty and inclination, sets up strife in the very sanctuary of thesoul. We are dimly conscious of the evil done as robbing us of powerto do right. We cannot pray, and would be glad to forget God. And aself thus racked, impoverished, and weakened, is what a man gains bythe sin that promised him so much and hid so much from him.

Or if these consequences are in any measure silenced and stifled, astill more melancholy mockery betrays him, in the continuance of theillusion that he is happy and all is well, when all the while he isdriving headlong to destruction. Many a man orders his life so that itis like a ship that sails with huzzas and bedizened with flags while afavouring breeze fills its sails, but comes back to port battered andall but waterlogged, with its canvas 'lean, rent, and beggared by thestrumpet wind.' It is always a mistake to try to buy happiness bydoing wrong. The price is rigorously demanded, but the quid proquo is not given, or if it seems to be so, there is something elsegiven too, which takes all the savour out of the composite whole. The'Folly' of the earlier half of this book woos men by her sweetinvitations, and promises the sweetness of stolen waters and thepleasantness of bread eaten in secret, but she hides the fact, whichthe listener to her seducing voice has to find out for himself afterhe has drunk of the stolen waters and tasted the maddeningpleasantness of her bread eaten in secret, that 'her guests are in thedepths of Sheol.' The temptations that seek to win us to do wrong anddazzle us by fair visions are but 'juggling fiends that keep the wordof promise to the ear, and break it to the hope.'

II. Sin mocks fools by making them its slaves.

There is not only a revulsion of feeling from the evil thing done thatwas so tempting before, but there is a dreadful change in the voice ofthe temptress. Before her victim had done the sin, she whispered hintsof how little a thing it was. 'Don't make such a mountain of amolehill. It is a very small matter. You can easily give it up whenyou like.' But when the deed is done, then her mocking laugh ringsout, 'I have got you now and you cannot get away.' The prey is seducedinto the trap by a carefully prepared bait, and as soon as itshesitating foot steps on to the slippery floor, down falls the doorand escape is impossible, We are tempted to sin by the delusion thatwe are shaking off restraints that fetter our manhood, and that it isspirited to do as we like, and as soon as we have sinned we discoverthat we were pleasing not ourselves but a taskmaster, and that whilethe voice said, 'Show yourself a man, beyond these petty,old-fashioned maxims'; the meaning of it was, 'Become my slave.'

Sin grows in accordance with an awful necessity, so that it is neverin a sinner's power to promise himself 'It is only this one time thatI will do the wrong thing. Let me have one lapse and I will abjure theevil for ever after.' We have to reckon with the tremendous power ofhabit, and to bethink ourselves that a man may never commit a givensin, but that if he has committed it once, it is all but impossiblethat he will stop there. The incline is too slippery and the ice toosmooth to risk a foot on it. Habit dominates, outward circ*mstancespress, there springs up a need for repeating the draught, and for itsbeing more highly spiced. Sin begets sin as fast as the green flieswhich infest rose-bushes. One has heard of slavers on the Africancoast speaking negroes fair, and tempting them on board by wonderfulpromises, but once the poor creatures are in the ship, then on withthe hatches and, if need be, the chains.

III. Sin mocks fools by unforeseen consequences.

These are carefully concealed or madly disregarded, while we are inthe stage of merely being tempted, but when we have done the evil,they are unmasked, like a battery against a detachment that has beentrapped. The previous denial that anything will come of the sin, andthe subsequent proclamation that this ugly issue has come of it, areboth parts of sin's mockery, and one knows not which is the morefiendish, the laugh with which she promises impunity or that withwhich she tells of the certainty of retribution. We may be mocked, but'God is not mocked. Whatever a man soweth, that'—and not some othergrowth—'shall he also reap.' We dwell in an all-related order ofthings, in which no act but has its appropriate consequences, and inwhich it is only fools who say to themselves, 'I did not think itwould matter much.' Each act of ours is at once sowing and reaping; asowing, inasmuch as it sets in motion a train the issues of which maynot be realised by us till the act has long been forgotten; a reaping,inasmuch as what we are and do to-day is the product of what we wereand did in a forgotten past. We are what we are, because we were longago what we were. As in these composite photographs, which areproduced by laying one individual likeness on another, our presentselves have our past selves preserved in them. We do not need to bringin a divine Judge into human life in order to be sure that, by theplay of the natural laws of cause and effect, 'every transgression anddisobedience receives its just recompense of reward.' Given the worldas it is, and the continuous identity of a man, and you have all thatis needed for an Iliad of woes flowing from every life that makesterms with sin. If we gather into one dismal pile the weakening ofpower for good, the strengthening of impulses to evil, the inwardpoverty, the unrest, the gnawings of conscience or its silence, theslavery under evil often loathed even while it is being obeyed, thedreary sense of inability to mend oneself, and often the wreck ofoutward life which dog our sins like sleuth-hounds, surely we shallnot need to imagine a future tribunal in order to be sure that sin isa murderess, or to hear her laugh as she mocks her helpless victims.

But as surely as there are in this present world experiences whichmust be regarded as consequences of sin, so surely do they all assumea more dreadful character and take on the office of prophets of afuture. If man lives beyond the grave, there is nothing to suggestthat he will there put off character as he puts off the bodily life.He will be there what he has made himself here. Only he will be somore intensely, more completely. The judgments of earth foretell andforeshadow a judgment beyond earth.

There is but one more word that I would say, and it is this. Jesus hascome to set the captives of sin free from its mockery, its tyranny,its worst consequences. He breaks the power of past evil to domineerover us. He gives us a new life within, which has no heritage of evilto pervert it, no memories of evil to discourage it, no bias towardsevil to lead it astray. As for the sins that we have done, He is readyto forgive, to seal to us God's forgiveness, and to take from our ownself-condemnation all its bitterness and much of its hopelessness. Forthe past, His blood has taken away its guilt and power. For the futureit sets us free from the mockery of our sin, and assures us of afuture which will not be weakened or pained by remembrances of asinful past. Sin mocks at fools, but they who have Christ for theirRedeemer, their Righteousness, and their Life can smile at herimpotent rage, and mock at her and her impotent attempts to terrifythem and assert her lost power with vain threats.

HOLLOW LAUGHTER, SOLID JOY

'Even in laughter the heart is sorrowful; and the end of that mirth isheaviness.'—PROVERBS xiv. 13.

'These things have I spoken unto you, that My joy may be in you, andthat your joy may be fulfilled.'—JOHN xv. 11 (R.V.).

A poet, who used to be more fashionable than he is now, pronounces'happiness' to be our being's end and aim. That is not true, exceptunder great limitations and with many explanations. It may be regardedas God's end, but it is ruinous to make it man's aim. It is by nomeans the highest conception of the Gospel to say that it makes menhappy, however true it may be. The highest is that it makes them good.I put these two texts together, not only because they bring out thecontrast between the laughter which is hollow and fleeting and the joywhich is perfect and perpetual, but also because they suggest to usthe difference in kind and object between earthly and heavenly joys;which difference underlies the other between the boisterous laughterin which is no mirth and no continuance and the joy which is deep andabiding.

In the comparison which I desire to make between these two texts wemust begin with that which is deepest, and consider—

I. The respective objects of earthly and heavenly joy.

Our Lord's wonderful words suggest that they who accept His sayings,that they who have His word abiding in them, have in a very deep senseHis joy implanted in their hearts, to brighten and elevate their joysas the sunshine flashes into silver the ripples of the lake. What thenwere the sources of the calm joys of 'the Man of Sorrows'? Surely Hiswas the perfect instance of 'rejoicing in the Lord always'—anunbroken communion with the Father. The consciousness that the divinepleasure ever rested on Him, and that all His thoughts, emotions,purposes, and acts were in perfect harmony with the perfect will ofthe perfect God, filled His humanity up to the very brim with gladnesswhich the world could not take away, and which remains for us for everas a type to which all our gladness must be conformed if it is to beworthy of Him and of us. As one of the Psalmists says, God is to be'the gladness of our joy.' It is in Him, gazed upon by the faith andlove of an obedient spirit, sought after by aspiration and possessedinwardly in peaceful communion, confirmed by union with Him in theacts of daily obedience, that the true joy of every human life is tobe realised. They who have drunk of this deep fountain of gladnesswill not express their joy in boisterous laughter, which is thehollower the louder it is, and the less lasting the more noisy, butwill manifest itself 'in the depth and not the tumult of the soul.'

Nor must we forget that 'My joy' co-existed with a profound experienceof sorrow to which no human sorrow was ever like. Let us not forgetthat, while His joy filled His soul to the brim, He was 'acquaintedwith grief'; and let us not wonder if the strange surfacecontradiction is repeated in ourselves. It is more Christlike to haveinexpressibly deep joy with surface sorrow, than to have a shallowlaughter masking a hurtful sorrow.

We have to set the sources of earthly gladness side by side with thoseof Christ's joy to be aware of a contrast. His sprang from within, theworld's is drawn from without. His came from union with the Father,the world's largely depends on ignoring God. His needed no suppliesfrom the gratifications ministered by sense, and so independent of thepresence or absence of such; the world's need the constantcontributions of outward good, and when these are cut off they droopand die. He who depends on outward circ*mstances for his joy is theslave of externals and the sport of time and chance.

II. The Christian's joy is full, the world's partial.

All human joys touch but part of our nature, the divine fills andsatisfies all. In the former there is always some portion of usunsatisfied, like the deep pits on the moon's surface into which nolight shines, and which show black on the silver face. No human joyswait to still conscience, which sits at the banquet like the skeletonthat Egyptian feasters set at their tables. The old story told of amagician's palace blazing with lighted windows, but there was alwaysone dark;—what shrouded figure sat behind it? Is there not always asurly 'elder brother' who will not come in however the musicians maypipe and the servants dance? Appetite may be satisfied, but what ofconscience, and reason, and the higher aspirations of the soul? Thelaughter that echoes through the soul is the hollower the louder itis, and reverberates most through empty spaces.

But when Christ's joy remains in us our joy will be full. Its flowingtide will rush into and placidly occupy all the else oozy shallows ofour hearts, even into the narrowest crannies its penetrating waterswill pass, and everywhere will bring a flashing surface that willreflect in our hearts the calm blue above. We need nothing else if wehave Christ and His joy within us. If we have everything else, we needHis joy within us, else ours will never be full.

III. The heavenly joys are perpetual, the earthly joys transient.

Many of our earthly joys die in the very act of being enjoyed. Thosewhich depend on the gratification of some appetite expire in fruition,and at each recurrence are less and less complete. The influence ofhabit works in two ways to rob all such joys of their power tominister to us—it increases the appetite and decreases the power ofthe object to satisfy. Some are followed by swift revulsion andremorse; all soon become stale; some are followed by quick remorse;some are necessarily left behind as we go on in life. To the old manthe pleasures of youth are but like children's toys long sinceoutgrown and left behind. All are at the mercy of externals. Thosewhich we have not left we have to leave. The saddest lives are thoseof pleasure-seekers, and the saddest deaths are those of the men whosought for joy where it was not to be found, and sought for theirgratification in a world which leaves them, and which they have toleave.

There is a realm where abide 'fullness of joy and pleasures for evermore.' Surely they order their lives most wisely who look for theirjoys to nothing that earth holds, and have taken for their own theancient vow: 'Though the fig-tree shall not blossom, neither shallfruit be in the vine…. Yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy inthe God of my salvation.' If 'My joy' abides in us in its calm andchangeless depth, our joy will be 'full' whatever our circ*mstancesmay be; and we shall hear at last the welcome: 'Enter thou into thejoy of thy Lord.'

SATISFIED FROM SELF

'… A good man shall be satisfied from himself.'—PROVERBS xiv. 14.

At first sight this saying strikes one as somewhat unlike the ordinaryScripture tone, and savouring rather of a Stoical self-complacency;but we recall parallel sayings, such as Christ's words, 'The waterthat I shall give him shall be in him a well of water'; and theApostle's, 'Then shall he have rejoicing in himself alone.' We furthernote that the text has an antithetic parallel in the preceding clause,where the picture is drawn of 'a backslider in heart,' as 'filled withhis own ways'; so that both clauses set forth the familiar but solemnthought that a man's deeds react upon the doer, and apart from allthoughts of divine judgment, themselves bring certain retribution. Tograsp the inwardness of this saying we must note that—

I. Goodness comes from godliness.

There is no more striking proof that most men are bad than the notionwhich they have of what is good. The word has been degraded to mean incommon speech little more than amiability, and is applied with littlediscrimination to characters of which little more can be said thanthat they are facile and indulgent of evil. 'A good fellow' may be avery bad man. At the highest the epithet connotes merely more or lessadmirable motives and more or less admirable deeds as their results,whilst often its use is no more than a piece of unmeaning politeness.That was what the young ruler meant by addressing Christ as 'GoodMaster'; and Christ's answer to him set him, and should set us, onasking ourselves why we call very ordinary men and very ordinaryactions 'good.' The scriptural notion is immensely deeper, and thescriptural employment of the word is immensely more restricted. It ismore inward: it means that motives should be right before it calls anyaction good; it means that our central and all-influencing motiveshould be love to God and regard to His will. That is the OldTestament point of view as well as the New. Or to put it in otherwords, the 'good man' of the Bible is a man in whom outwardrighteousness flows from inward devotion and love to God. These twoelements make up the character: godliness is an inseparable part ofgoodness, is the inseparable foundation of goodness, and the solecondition on which it is possible. But from this conception follows,that a man may be truly called good, although not perfect. He may beso and yet have many failures. The direction of his aspirations, notthe degree to which these are fulfilled, determines his character, andhis right to be reckoned a good man. Why was David called 'a man afterGod's own heart,' notwithstanding his frightful fall? Was it notbecause that sin was contrary to the main direction of his life, andbecause he had struggled to his feet again, and with tears andself-abasem*nt, yet with unconquerable desire and hope, 'pressedtoward the mark for the prize of his high calling'? David in the OldTestament and Peter in the New bid us be of good cheer, and warn usagainst the too common error of thinking that goodness meansperfection. 'The new moon with a ragged edge' is even in itsimperfections beautiful, and in its thinnest circlet prophesies theperfect round.

Remembering this inseparable connection between godliness and goodnesswe further note that—

II. Godliness brings satisfaction.

There is a grim contrast between the two halves of this verse. Theformer shows us the backslider in heart as filled 'with his own ways.'He gets weary with satiety; with his doings he 'will be sick of them';and the things which at first delighted will finally disgust and bedone without zest. There is nothing sadder than the gloomy faces oftenseen in the world's festivals. But, on the other hand, the godly manwill be satisfied from within. This is no Stoical proclamation ofself-sufficingness. Self by itself satisfies no man, but self, becomethe abiding-place of God, does satisfy. A man alone is like 'the chaffwhich the wind driveth away'; but, rooted in God, he is 'like a treeplanted by the rivers of water, whose leaf does not wither.' He hasfound all that he needs. God is no longer without him but within; andhe who can say, 'I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me,' haswithin him the secret of peace and the source of satisfaction whichcan never say 'I thirst.' Such an inward self, in which God dwells andthrough which His sweet presence manifests itself in the renewednature, sets man free from all dependence for blessedness onexternals. We hang on them and are in despair if we lose them, becausewe have not the life of God within us. He who has such an indwelling,and he only, can truly say, 'All my possessions I carry with me.' Takehim and strip from him, film after film, possessions, reputation,friends; hack him limb from limb, and as long as there is body enoughleft to keep life in him, he can say, 'I have all and abound.' 'Yetook joyfully the spoiling of your possessions, knowing that ye haveyour own selves for a better possession.'

III. Godly goodness brings inward satisfaction.

No man is satisfied with himself until he has subjugated himself. Whatmakes men restless and discontented is their tossing, anarchicaldesires. To live by impulse, or passion, or by anything but love toGod, is to make ourselves our own tormentors. It is always true thathe 'who loveth his life shall lose it,' and loses it by the very actof loving it. Most men's lives are like the troubled sea, 'whichcannot rest,' and whose tossing surges, alas! 'cast up mire and dirt,'for their restless lives bring to the surface much that was meant tolie undisturbed in the depths.

But he who has subdued himself is like some still lake which 'hearethnot the loud winds when they call,' and mirrors the silent heavens onits calm surface. But further, goodness brings satisfaction, because,as the Psalmist says, 'in keeping Thy commandments there is greatreward.' There is a glow accompanying even partial obedience whichdiffuses itself with grateful warmth through the whole being of a man.And such goodness tends to the preservation of health of soul asnatural, simple living to the health of the body. And that generalsense of well-being brings with it a satisfaction compared with whichall the feverish bliss of the voluptuary is poor indeed.

But we must not forget that satisfaction from one's self is notsatisfaction with one's self. There will always be theimperfection which will always prevent self-righteousness. The goodman after the Bible pattern most deeply knows his faults, and in thatvery consciousness is there a deep joy. To be ever aspiring onwards,and to know that our aspiration is no vain dream, this is joy. Stillto press 'toward the mark,' still to have 'the yet untroubled worldwhich gleams before us as we move,' and to know that we shall attainif we follow on, this is the highest bliss. Not the accomplishment ofour ideal, but the cherishing of it, is the true delight of life.

Such self-satisfying goodness comes only through Christ. He makes itpossible for us to love God and to trust Him. Only when we know 'thelove wherewith He has loved us,' shall we love with a love which willbe the motive power of our lives. He makes it possible to live outwardlives of obedience, which, imperfect as it is, has 'great reward.' Hemakes it possible for us to attain the yet unattained, and to be surethat we 'shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is.' He hassaid, 'The water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of waterspringing up unto everlasting life.' Only when we can say, 'I live,yet not I, but Christ liveth in me,' will it be true of us in itsfullest sense, 'A good man shall be satisfied from himself.'

WHAT I THINK OF MYSELF AND WHAT GOD THINKS OF ME

'All the ways of a man are clean in his own eyes; but the Lordweigheth the spirits.'—PROVERBS xvi. 2.

'All the ways of a man'—then there is no such thing as beingconscious of having gone wrong, and having got into miry and foulways? Of course there is; and equally of course a broad statement suchas this of my text is not to be pressed into literal accuracy, but isa simple, general assertion of what we all know to be true, that wehave a strange power of blinding ourselves as to what is wrong inourselves and in our actions. Part of the cure for that lies in thethought in the second clause of the text—'But the Lord weigheth thespirits.' He weighs them in a balance, or as a man might take upsomething and poise it on his palm, moving his hand up and down tillhis muscles by their resistance gave him some inkling of its weight.But what is it that God weighs? 'The spirits.' We too often contentourselves with looking at our ways; God looks at ourselves. He takesthe inner man into account, estimates actions by motives, and so veryoften differs from our judgment of ourselves and of one another.

Now so far the verse of my text carries me, and as a rule we have tokeep ourselves within the limits of each verse in reading this Book ofProverbs, for two adjoining verses have very seldom anything to dowith each other. But in the present case they have, for here is whatfollows: 'Commit thy works unto the Lord, and thy thoughts' (aboutthyself and everything else) 'shall be established.' That is to say,since we make such terrible blunders about the moral character of ourown works, and since side by side with these erroneous estimates thereis God's absolutely correct and all-penetrating one, common sensesays: 'Put yourself into His hands, and then it will be all right.' Sowe consider now these very well-worn and familiar thoughts as to ourstrange blunders about ourselves, as to the contemporaneous divineestimate, which is absolutely correct, and as to the practical issuesthat come from two facts.

I. Our strange power of blinding ourselves.

It is difficult to make so threadbare a commonplace at all impressive.But yet if we would only take this thought, 'All the ways of aman'—that is me—'are right in his own eyes'—that is, my eyes—andapply it directly to our own personal experience and thoughts ofourselves, we should find that, like every other commonplace ofmorality and religion, the apparently toothless generality has sharpenough teeth, and that the trite truth flashes up into strange beauty,and has power to purify and guide our lives. Some one says that'recognised truths lie bedridden in the dormitory of the soul, side byside with exploded errors.' And I am afraid that that is true of thisthought, that we cannot truly estimate ourselves.

'All the ways of a man are right in his own eyes.' For to begin with,we all know that there is nothing that we so habitually neglect as thebringing of conscience to bear right through all our lives. Sometimesit is because there is a temptation that appeals very strongly,perhaps to sense, perhaps to some strong inclination which has beenstrengthened by indulgence. And when the craving arises, that is notime to begin asking, 'Is it right, or is it wrong to yield?' Thatquestion stands small chance of being wisely considered at a momentwhen, under the goading of roused desire, a man is like a mad bullwhen it charges. It drops its head and shuts its eyes, and goes rightforward, and no matter whether it smashes its horns against an irongate, and damages them and itself, or not, on it will go. So whengreat temptations rise—and we all know such times in our lives—weare in no condition to discuss that question with ourselves. Sometimesthe craving is so vehement that if we could not get this thing that wewant without putting our hands through the sulphurous smoke of thebottomless pit, we should thrust them out to grasp it. But in regardto the smaller commonplace matters of daily life, too, we all knowthat there are whole regions of our lives which seem to us to be sosmall that it is hardly worth while summoning the august thought of'right or wrong?' to decide them. Yes, and a thousand smugglers thatgo across a frontier, each with a little package of contraband goodsthat does not pay any duty, make a large aggregate at the year's end.It is the trifles of life that shape life, and it is to them that weso frequently fail in applying, honestly and rigidly, the test, 'Isthis right or wrong?' 'He that is faithful in that which is least,'and conscientious down to the smallest things, 'is faithful also inmuch.' The legal maxim has it, 'The law does not care about the verysmallest matters.' What that precisely means, as a legal maxim, I donot profess to know, but it is rank heresy in regard to conduct andmorality. Look after the pennies, and the pounds will look afterthemselves. Get the habit of bringing conscience to bear on littlethings, or you will never be able to bring it to bear when greattemptations come and the crises emerge in your lives. Thus, by reasonof that deficiency in the habitual application of conscience to burlives, we slide through, and take for granted that all our ways areright in our eyes.

Then there is another thing: we not only neglect the rigid applicationof conscience to all our lives, but we have a double standard, and thenotion of right and wrong which we apply to our neighbours is verydifferent from that which we apply to ourselves. No wonder that thecriminal is acquitted, and goes away from the tribunal 'without astain on his character,' when he is his own judge and jury. 'All theways of a man are right in his own eyes,' but the very same 'ways'that you allow to pass muster and condone in yourselves, you visitwith sharp and unfailing censure in others. That strangeself-complacency which we have, which is perfectly undisturbed by themost general confessions of sinfulness, and only shies when it isbrought up to particular details of faults, we all know is very deepin ourselves.

Then there is another thing to be remembered, and that is—theenormous and the tragical influence of habit in dulling the mirror ofour souls, on which our deeds are reflected in their true image. Thereare places in Europe where the peasantry have become so accustomed tominute and constantly repeated doses of arsenic that it is actually aminister of health to them, and what would poison you is food forthem. We all know that we may sit in a hall like this, packed full andsteaming, while the condensed breath is running down the windows, andnever be aware of the foulness of the odours and the air. But when wego out and feel the sweet, pure breath of the unpolluted atmosphere,then we know how habit has dulled the lungs. And so habit dulls theconscience. According to the old saying, the man that began bycarrying a calf can carry an ox at the end, and feel no burden. Whatwe are accustomed to do we scarcely ever recognise to be wrong, and itis these things which pass because they are habitual that do more towreck lives than occasional outbursts of far worse evils, according tothe world's estimate of them. Habit dulls the eye.

Yes; and more than that, the conscience needs educating just as muchas any other faculty. A man says, 'My conscience acquits me'; then thequestion is, 'And what sort of a conscience have you got, if itacquits you?' All that your conscience says is, 'It is right to dowhat is right, it is wrong to do what is wrong.' But for theexplanation of what is wrong and what is right you have to gosomewhere else than to your consciences. You have to go to yourreason, and your judgment, and your common sense, and a hundred othersources. And then, when you have found out what is right and what iswrong, you will hear the voice saying, 'Do that, and do not do this.'Every one of us has faults that we know nothing about, and that webring up to the tribunal of our consciences, and wipe our mouths andsay, 'We have done no harm.' 'I thought within myself that I verilyought to do many things contrary to the name of Jesus of Nazareth.''They think that they do God service.' Many things that seem to usvirtues are vices.

And as for the individual so for the community. The perception of whatis right and what is wrong needs long educating. When I was a boy thewhole Christian Church of America, with one voice, declared that'slavery was a patriarchal institution appointed by God.' TheChristian Church of to-day has not awakened either to the sin of waror of drink. And I have not the smallest doubt that there are hosts ofthings which public opinion, and Christian public opinion, regardsto-day as perfectly allowable and innocent, and, perhaps, evenpraiseworthy, and over which it will ask God's blessing, at which, ina hundred years our descendants will hold up their hands in wonder,and say, 'How did good people—and good people they no doubtwere—tolerate such a condition of things for a moment?' 'All a man'sways are right in his own eyes,' and he needs a great deal of teachingbefore he comes to understand what, according to God's will, really,is right and what is wrong.

Now let me turn for a moment to the contrasted picture, with which Ican only deal in a sentence or two.

II. The divine estimate.

I have already pointed out the two emphatic thoughts that lie in thatclause, 'God weigheth,' and 'weigheth the spirits.' I need not repeatwhat I said, in the introduction to these remarks, upon this subject.Just let us take with us these two thoughts, that the same actionswhich we sometimes test, in our very defective and loaded balances,have also to go into the infallible scales, and that the actions gowith their interpretation in their motive. 'God weighs the spirits.'He reads what we do by His knowledge of what we are. We reveal to oneanother what we are by what we do, and, as is a commonplace, none ofus can penetrate, except very superficially and often inaccurately, tothe motives that actuate. But the motive is three-fourths of theaction. God does not go from without, as it were, inwards; from ouractions to estimate our characters; but He starts with the characterand the motive—the habitual character and the occasional motive—andby these He reads the deed. He weighs, ponders, penetrates to theheart of the thing, and He weighs the spirits.

So on the one hand, 'I obtained mercy, because I did it ignorantly inunbelief,' and many a deed which the world would condemn, and in whichwe onlookers would see evil, God does not wholly condemn, because He,being the Inlooker as well as the Onlooker, sees the albeit mistakenyet pure motives that underlay it. So it is conceivable that theinquisitor, and the heretic that he sent to the stake, may stand sideby side in God's estimate; the one if he were actuated by pure zealfor the truth, the other because he was actuated by self-sacrifice inloyalty to his Lord. And, on the other hand, many a deed that goesflaunting through the world in 'purple and fine linen' will bestripped of its gauds, and stand naked and ugly before the eyes of'Him with whom we have to do.' He 'weighs the spirits.'

Lastly, a word about—

III. The practical issues of these thoughts.

'Commit thy works unto the Lord'—that is to say, do not be too surethat you are right because you do not think you are wrong. We shouldbe very distrustful of our own judgments of ourselves, especially whenthat judgment permits us to do certain things. 'I know nothing againstmyself,' said the Apostle, 'yet am I not hereby justified.' And again,still more emphatically, he lays down the principle that I would haveliked to have enlarged upon if I had had time. 'Happy is he thatcondemneth not himself in the things which he alloweth.' You may havemade the glove too easy by stretching. It is possible that you maythink that something is permissible and right which a wiser and morerigid and Christlike judgment of yourself would have taught you waswrong. Look under the stones for the reptiles, and remember theprayer, 'Cleanse thou me from secret faults,' and distrust apermitting and easy conscience.

Then, again, let us seek the divine strengthening and illumination. Wehave to seek that in some very plain ways. Seek it by prayer. There isnothing so powerful in stripping off from our besetting sins theirdisguises and masks as to go to God with the honest petition: 'Searchme … and try me … and see if there be any wicked way in me, andlead me in the way everlasting.' Brethren! if we will do that, weshall get answers that will startle us, that will humble us, but thatwill be blessed beyond all other blessedness, and will bring to lightthe 'hidden things of darkness.' Then, after they are brought to lightand cast out, 'then shall every man have praise of God.'

We ought to keep ourselves in very close union with Jesus Christ,because if we cling to Him in simple faith, He will come into ourhearts, and we shall be saved from walking in darkness, and have thelight of life shining down upon our deeds. Christ is the conscience ofthe Christian man's conscience, who, by His voice in the hearts thatwait upon Him, says, 'Do this,' and they do it. It is when He is inour spirits that our estimate of ourselves is set right, and that wehear the voice saying, 'This is the way, walk ye in it'; and notmerely do we hear the voice, but we get help to our feet in running inthe way of His commandments, with enlarged and confirmed hearts.Brethren! for the discovery of our faults, which we ought all to longfor, and for the conquest of these discovered faults, which, if we areChristians, we do long for, our confidence is in Him. And if you trustHim, 'the blood of Christ will cleanse'—because it comes into ourlife's blood—'from all sin.'

And the last thing that I would say is this. We must punctiliouslyobey every dictate that speaks in our own consciences, especially whenit urges us to unwelcome duties or restrains us from too welcome sins.'To him that hath shall be given'—and the sure way to condemnourselves to utter blindness as to our true selves is to pay noattention to the glimmers of light that we have, whilst, on the otherhand, the sure way to be led into fuller illumination is to followfaithfully whatsoever sparkles of light may shine upon our hearts. 'Dothe duty that lies nearest thee.' Put thy trust in Jesus Christ.Distrust thine own approbation or condonation of thine actions, andever turn to Him and say, 'Show me what to do, and make me willing andfit to do it.' Then there will be little contrariety between yourestimate of your ways and God's judgments of your spirits.

A BUNDLE OF PROVERBS

'Understanding is a wellspring of life unto him that hath it: but theinstruction of fools is folly. 23. The heart of the wise teacheth hismouth, and addeth learning to his lips. 24. Pleasant words are as anhoneycomb, sweet to the soul, and health to the bones. 25. There is away that seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways ofdeath. 26. He that laboureth laboureth for himself; for his mouthcraveth it of him. 27. An ungodly man diggeth up evil: and in his lipsthere is as a burning fire. 28. A froward man soweth strife: and awhisperer separateth chief friends. 29. A violent man enticeth hisneighbour, and leadeth him into the way that is not good. 30. Heshutteth his eyes to devise froward things: moving his lips hebringeth evil to pass. 31. The hoary head is a crown of glory, if itbe found in the way of righteousness. 32. He that is slow to anger isbetter than the mighty; and he that ruleth his spirit than he thattaketh a city. 33. The lot is cast into the lap; but the wholedisposing thereof is of the Lord.'—PROVERBS xvi. 22-33.

A slight thread of connection may be traced in some of the proverbs inthis passage. Verse 22, with its praise of 'Wisdom,' introduces oneinstance of Wisdom's excellence in verse 23, and that again, with itsreference to speech, leads on to verse 24 and its commendation of'pleasant words.' Similarly, verses 27-30 give four pictures of vice,three of them beginning with 'a man.' We may note, too, that, startingwith verse 26, every verse till verse 30 refers to some work of 'themouth' or 'lips.'

The passage begins with one phase of the contrast between Wisdom andFolly, which this book is never weary of emphasising and underscoring.We shall miss the force of its most characteristic teaching unless wekeep well in mind that the two opposites of Wisdom and Folly do notrefer only or chiefly to intellectual distinctions. The very basis of'Wisdom,' as this book conceives it, is the 'fear of the Lord,'without which the man of biggest, clearest brain, and most richlystored mind, is, in its judgment, 'a fool.' Such 'understanding,'which apprehends and rightly deals with the deepest fact of life, ourrelation to God and to His law, is a 'well-spring of life.' The figurespeaks still more eloquently to Easterns than to us. In those hotlands the cool spring, bursting through the baked rocks or burningsand, makes the difference between barrenness and fertility, the deathof all green things and life. So where true Wisdom is deep in a heart,it will come flashing up into sunshine, and will quicken the seeds ofall good as it flows through the deeds. 'Everything livethwhithersoever the river cometh.' Productiveness, refreshment, thebeauty of the sparkling wavelets, the music of their ripples againstthe stones, and all the other blessings and delights of a perpetualfountain, have better things corresponding to them in the life of theman who is wise with the true Wisdom which begins with the fear ofGod. Just as it is active in the life, so is Folly. But itsactivity is not blessing and gladdening, but punitive. For all sinautomatically works its own chastisem*nt, and the curse of Folly isthat, while it corrects, it prevents the 'fool' from profiting by thecorrection. Since it punishes itself, one might expect that it wouldcure itself, but experience shows that, while it wields a rod, itssubjects 'receive no correction.' That insensibility is the paradoxand the Nemesis of 'Folly.'

The Old Testament ethics are remarkable for their solemn sense of theimportance of words, and Proverbs shares in that sense to the full. Insome aspects, speech is a more perfect self-revelation than act. Sothe outflow of the fountain in words comes next. Wise heart makes wisespeech. That may be looked at in two ways. It may point to theutterance by word as the most precious, and incumbent on itspossessor, of all the ways of manifesting Wisdom; or it may point tothe only source of real 'learning,'—namely, a wise heart. In theformer view, it teaches us our solemn obligation not to hide our lightunder a bushel, but to speak boldly and lovingly all the truth whichGod has taught us. A dumb Christian is a monstrosity. We are bound togive voice to our 'Wisdom.' In the other aspect, it reminds us thatthere is a better way of getting Wisdom than by many books,—namely,by filling our hearts, through communion with God, with His own will.Then, whether we have worldly 'learning' or no, we shall be able toinstruct many, and lead them to the light which has shone on us.

There are many kinds of pleasant words, some of which are not like'honey,' but like poison hid in jam. Insincere compliments, flatterieswhen rebukes would be fitting, and all the brood of civilconventionalities, are not the words meant here. Truly pleasant onesare those which come from true Wisdom, and may often have a surface ofbitterness like the prophet's roll, but have a core of sweetness. Itis a great thing to be able to speak necessary and unwelcome truthswith lips into which grace is poured. A spoonful of honey catches moreflies than a hogshead of vinegar.

Verse 25 has no connection with its context. It teaches two solemntruths, according to the possible double meaning of 'right.' If thatword means ethically right, then the saying sets forth the terriblepossibility of conscience being wrongly instructed, and sanctioninggross sin. If it means only straight, or level—that is,successful and easy—the saying enforces the not less solemn truththat sin deceives as to its results, and that the path of wrong-doing,which is flowery and smooth at first, grows rapidly thorny, and goesfast downhill, and ends at last in a cul-de-sac, of which deathis the only outlet. We are not to trust our own consciences, except asenlightened by God's Word. We are not to listen to sin's lies, but tofix it well in our minds that there is only one way which leads tolife and peace, the narrow way of faith and obedience.

The Revised Version's rendering of verse 26 gives the right idea. 'Theappetite,' or hunger, 'of the labourer labours for him' (that is, theneed of food is the mainspring of work), and it lightens the work towhich it impels. So hunger is a blessing. That is true in regard tothe body. The manifold material industries of men are, at bottom,prompted by the need to earn something to eat. The craving whichdrives to such results is a thing to be thankful for. It is better tolive where toil is needful to sustain life than in lazy lands where anhour's work will provide food for a week. But the saying reaches tospiritual desires, and anticipates the beatitude on those who 'hungerand thirst after righteousness.' Happy they who feel that craving, andare driven by it to the labour for the bread which comes down fromheaven! 'This is the work of God, that ye believe on Him whom He hathsent.'

The next three proverbs (vs. 27-29) give three pictures of differenttypes of bad men. First, we have 'the worthless man' (Rev. Ver.),literally 'a man of Belial,' which last word probably meansworthlessness. His work is 'digging evil'; his words are likescorching fire. To dig evil seems to have a wider sense than hasdigging a pit for others (Ps. vii. 15), which is usually taken as aparallel. The man is not merely malicious toward others, but his wholeactivity goes to further evil. It is the material in which he delightsto work. What mistaken spade husbandry it is to spend labour on such asoil! What can it grow but thistles and poisonous plants? His wordsare as bad as his deeds. No honey drops from his lips, butscorching fire, which burns up not only reputations but tries toconsume all that is good. As James says, such a tongue is 'set on fireof hell.' The picture is that of a man bad through and through. Butthere may be indefinitely close approximations to it, and no man cansay, 'Thus far will I go in evil ways, and no further.'

The second picture is of a more specific kind. The 'froward man' hereseems to be the same as the slanderer in the next clause. He uttersperverse things, and so soweth strife and parts friends. There arepeople whose mouths are as full of malicious whispers as a sower'sbasket is of seed, and who have a base delight in flinging thembroadcast. Sometimes they do not think of what the harvest will be,but often they chuckle to see it springing in the mistrust andalienation of former friends. A loose tongue often does as much harmas a bitter one, and delight in dwelling on people's faults is notinnocent because the tattler did not think of the mischief he wassetting agoing.

In verse 29 another type of evil-doer is outlined—the opposite, insome respects, of the preceding. The slanderer works secretly; thismischief-maker goes the plain way to work. He uses physical force or'violence.' But how does that fit in with 'enticeth'? It may be thatthe enticement of his victim into a place suitable for robbing ormurder is meant, but more probably there is here the same combinationof force and craft as in chapter i. 10-14. Criminals have a wickeddelight in tempting innocent people to join their gangs. A lawlessdesperado is a hotbed of infection.

Verse 30 draws a portrait of a bad man. It is a bit of homelyphysiognomical observation. A man with a trick of closing his eyes hassomething working in his head; and, if he is one of these types ofmen, one may be sure that he is brewing mischief. Compressed lips meanconcentrated effort, or fixed resolve, or suppressed feeling, and inany of these cases are as a danger signal, warning that the man is atwork on some evil deed.

Two sayings follow, which contrast goodness with the evils justdescribed. The 'if' in verse 31 weakens the strong assertion of theproverb. 'The hoary head is a crown of glory; it is found in the wayof righteousness.' That is but putting into picturesque form the OldTestament promise of long life to the righteous—a promise which isnot repeated in the new dispensation, but which is still oftenrealised. 'Whom the gods love, die young,' is a heathen proverb; butthere is a natural tendency in the manner of life which Christianityproduces to prolong a man's days. A heart at peace, because stayed onGod, passions held well in hand, an avoidance of excesses which eataway strength, do tend to length of life, and the opposites of thesedo tend to shorten it. How many young men go home from our greatcities every year, with their 'bones full of the iniquities of theiryouth,' to die!

If we are to tread the way of righteousness, and so come to 'reverenceand the silver hair,' we must govern ourselves. So the next proverbextols the ruler of his own spirit as 'more than conquerors,' whosetriumphs are won in such vulgar fields as battles and sieges, Oursorest fights and our noblest victories are within.

'Unless above himself he can
Erect himself, how poor a thing is man!'

Verse 31 takes the casting of the lot as one instance of thelimitation of all human effort, in all which we can but use theappropriate means, while the whole issue must be left in God's hands.The Jewish law did not enjoin the lot, but its use seems to have beenfrequent. The proverb presents in the sharpest relief a principlewhich is true of all our activity. The old proverb-maker knew nothingof chance. To him there were but two real moving forces in theworld—man and God. To the one belonged sowing the seed, doing hispart, whether casting the lot or toiling at his task. His force wasreal, but derived and limited. Efforts and attempts are ours; resultsare God's. We sow; He 'gives it a body as it pleases Him.' Nothinghappens by accident. Man's little province is bounded on all sides byGod's, and the two touch. There is no neutral territory between, wheregodless chance rules.

TWO FORTRESSES

'The name of the Lord is a strong tower: the righteous runneth intoit, and is safe. 11. The rich man's wealth is his strong city, and asan high wall in his own conceit'—PROVERBS xviii. 10,11.

The mere reading of these two verses shows that, contrary to the usualrule in the Book of Proverbs, they have a bearing on each other. Theyare intended to suggest a very strong contrast, and that contrast iseven more emphatic in the original than in our translation; because,as the margin of your Bibles will tell you, the last word of theformer verse might be more correctly rendered, 'the righteous runnethinto it, and is set on high.' It is the same word which isemployed in the next verse—'a high wall.'

So we have 'the strong tower' and 'the strong city'; the man lifted upabove danger on the battlements of the one, and the man fancyinghimself to be high above it (and only fancying himself) in theimaginary safety of the other.

I. Consider then, first, the two fortresses.

One need only name them side by side to feel the full force of theintended contrast. On the one hand, the name of the Lord with all itsdepths and glories, with its blaze of lustrous purity, and infinitudesof inexhaustible power; and on the other, 'the rich man's wealth.'What contempt is expressed in putting the two side by side! It is asif the author had said, 'Look on this picture and on that!' Twofortresses! Yes! The one is like Gibraltar, inexpugnable on its rock,and the other is like a painted castle on the stage; flimsy canvasthat you could put your foot through—solidity by the side ofnothingness. For even the poor appearance of solidity is an illusion,as our text says with bitter emphasis—'a high wall in his ownconceit.'

'The name of the Lord,' of course, is the Biblical expression for thewhole character of God, as He has made it known to us, or in otherwords, for God Himself, as He has been pleased to reveal Himself tomankind. The syllables of that name are all the deeds by which He hastaught us what He is; every act of power, of wisdom, of tenderness, ofgrace that has manifested these qualities and led us to believe thatthey are all infinite. In the name, in its narrower sense, the name ofJehovah, there is much of 'the name' in its wider sense. For that name'Jehovah,' both by its signification and by the circ*mstances underwhich it was originally employed, tells us a great deal about God. Ittells us, for instance, by virtue of its signification, that He isself-existent, depending upon no other creature. 'I AM THAT I AM!' Noother being can say that. All the rest of us have to say, 'I am thatwhich God made me.' Circ*mstances and a hundred other things have mademe; God finds the law of His being and the fountain of His beingwithin Himself.

'He sits on no precarious throne,
Nor borrows leave to be.'

His name proclaims Him to be self-existent, and as self-existent,eternal; and as eternal, changeless; and as self-existent, eternal,changeless, infinite in all the qualities by which He makes Himselfknown. This boundless Being, all full of wisdom, power, andtenderness, with whom we can enter into relations of amity andconcord, surely He is 'a strong tower into which we may run and besafe.'

But far beyond even the sweep of that great name, Jehovah, is theknowledge of God's deepest heart and character which we learn in Himwho said, 'I have declared Thy name unto My brethren, and will declareit.' Christ in His life and death, in His meekness, sweetness,gentleness, calm wisdom, infinite patience, attractiveness; yearningover sinful hearts, weeping over rebels, in the graciousness of Hislife, in the sacredness and the power of His Cross, is the Revealer toour hearts of the heart of God. If I may so say, He has builded 'thestrong tower' broader, has expanded its area and widened its gate, andlifted its summit yet nearer the heavens, and made the name of God awider name and a mightier name, and a name of surer defence andblessing than ever it was before.

And so, dear brethren! it all comes to this, the name that is 'thestrong tower' is the name 'My Father!' a Father of infinite tendernessand wisdom and power. Oh! where can the child rest more quietly thanon the mother's breast, where can the child be safer than in thecircle of the father's arms? 'The name of the Lord is a strong tower.'

Now turn to the other for a moment: 'The rich man's wealth is' (withgreat emphasis on the next little word) 'his strong city, andas a high wall in his own conceit.' Of course we have not to deal hereonly with wealth in the shape of money, but all external and materialgoods, the whole mass of the 'things seen and temporal,' are gatheredtogether here in this phrase.

Men use their imaginations in very strange fashion, and make, or fancythey make, for themselves out of the things of the present life adefence and a strength. Like some poor lunatic, out upon a moor, thatfancies himself ensconced in a castle; like some barbarous tribesbehind their stockades or crowding at the back of a little turf wall,or in some old tumble-down fort that the first shot will bringrattling down about their ears, fancying themselves perfectly secureand defended—so do men deal with these outward things that are giventhem for another purpose altogether: they make of them defences andfortresses.

It is difficult for a man to have them and not to trust them. So Jesussaid to His disciples once: 'How hardly shall they that have richesenter into the Kingdom'; and when they were astonished at His words,He repeated them with the significant variation, 'How hard is it forthem that trust in riches to enter into the Kingdom of God.' So Hewould teach that the misuse and not the possession of wealth is thebarrier, but so, too, He would warn us that, nine times out of ten,the possession of them in more than a very modest measure, tempts aman into confidence in them.

The illusion is one that besets us all. We are all tempted to make adefence of the things that we can see and handle. Is it not strange,and is it not sad, that most of us just turn the truth round about andsuppose that the real defence is the imaginary, and that the imaginaryone is the real? How many men are there in this chapel who, if theyspoke out of their deepest convictions, would say: 'Oh yes! thepromises of God are all very well, but I would rather have the cashdown. I suppose that I may trust that He will provide bread and water,and all the things that I need, but I would rather have a good solidbalance at the banker's.' How many of you would rather honestly, andat the bottom of your hearts, have that than God's word for yourdefence? How many of you think that to trust in a living God is butgrasping at a very airy and unsubstantial kind of support; and thatthe real solid defence is the defence made of the things that you cansee?

My brother! it is exactly the opposite way. Turn it clean round, andyou get the truth. The unsubstantial shadows are the material thingsthat you can see and handle; illusory as a dream, and as little ableto ward off the blows of fate as a soap bubble. The real is the unseenbeyond—'the things that are,' and He who alone really is, andin His boundless and absolute Being is our only defence.

In one aspect or another, that false imagination with which my lasttext deals is the besetting sin of Manchester. Not the rich man only,but the poor man just as much, is in danger of it. The poor man whothinks that everything would be right if only he were rich, and therich man who thinks that everything is right because he isrich, are exactly the same man. The circ*mstances differ, but the oneman is but the other turned inside out. And all round about us we seethe fierce fight to get more and more of these things, the tight gripof them when we have got them, the overestimate of the value of them,the contempt for the people who have less of them than ourselves. Ouraristocracy is an aristocracy of wealth; in some respects, one by nomeans to be despised, because there often go a great many goodqualities to the making and the stewardship of wealth; but still it isan evil that men should be so largely estimated by their money as theyare here. It is not a sound state of opinion which has made 'what ishe worth?' mean 'how much of it has he?' We are taughthere to look upon the prizes of life as being mainly wealth. To winthat is 'success'—'prosperity'—and it is very hard for us all not tobe influenced by the prevailing tone.

I would urge you, young men, especially to lay this to heart—that ofall delusions that can beset you in your course, none will work moredisastrously than the notion that the summum bonum, the shieldand stay of a man, is the 'abundance of the things that he possesses.'I fancy I see more listless, discontented, unhappy faces looking outof carriages than I see upon the pavement. And I am sure of this, atany rate, that all which is noble and sweet and good in life can bewrought out and possessed upon as much bread and water as will keepbody and soul together, and as much furniture as will enable a man tosit at his meal and lie down at night. And as for the rest, it hasmany advantages and blessings, but oh! it is all illusory as a defenceagainst the evils that will come, sooner or later, to every life.

II. Consider next how to get into the true Refuge.

'The righteous runneth into it and is safe,' says my text. You may getinto the illusory one very easily. Imagination will take you there.There is no difficulty at all about that. And yet the way by which aman makes this world his defence may teach you a lesson as to how youcan make God your defence. How does a man make this world hisdefence? By trusting to it. He that says to the fine gold, 'Thou artmy confidence,' has made it his fortress—and that is how you willmake God your fortress—by trusting to Him. The very sameemotion, the very same act of mind, heart, and will, may be turnedeither upwards or downwards, as you can turn the beam from a lanternwhich way you please. Direct it earthwards, and you 'trust in theuncertainty of riches.' Flash it heavenwards, and you 'trust in theliving God.'

And that same lesson is taught by the words of our text, 'Therighteous runneth into it.' I do not dwell upon the word 'righteous.'That is the Old Testament point of view, which could not conceive itpossible that any man could have deep and close communion with God,except on condition of a pure character. I will not speak of that atpresent, but point to the picturesque metaphor, which will tell us agreat deal more about what faith is than many a philosophicaldissertation. Many a man who would be perplexed by a theologian's talkwill understand this: 'The righteous runneth into the name of theLord.'

The metaphor brings out the idea of eager haste in betaking oneself tothe shelter, as when an invading army comes into a country, and theunarmed peasants take their portable belongings and their cattle, andcatch up their children in their arms, and set their wives upon theirmules, and make all haste to some fortified place; or as when themanslayer in Israel fled to the city of refuge, or as when Lot hurriedfor his life out of Sodom. There would be no dawdling then; but withevery muscle strained, men would run into the stronghold, countingevery minute a year till they were inside its walls, and heard theheavy door close between them and the pursuer. No matter how rough theroad, or how overpowering the heat—no time to stop to gather flowers,or even diamonds on the road, when a moment's delay might mean theenemy's sword in your heart!

Now that metaphor is frequently used to express the resolved and swiftact by which, recognising in Jesus Christ, who declares the name ofthe Lord, our hiding-place, we shelter ourselves in Him, and restsecure. One of the picturesque words by which the Old Testamentexpresses 'trust' means literally 'to flee to a refuge.' The OldTestament trust is the New Testament faith, even as theOld Testament 'Name of the Lord' answers to the New Testament'Name of Jesus.' And so we run into this sure hiding-place andstrong fortress of the name of the Lord, when we betake ourselves toJesus and put our trust in Him as our defence.

Such a faith—the trust of mind, heart, and will—laying hold of thename of the Lord, makes us 'righteous,' and so capable of 'dwellingwith the devouring fire' of God's perfect purity. The Old Testamentpoint of view was righteousness, in order to abiding in God. The NewTestament begins, as it were, at an earlier stage in the religiouslife, and tells us how to get the righteousness, without which, itholds as strongly as the Old Testament, 'no man shall see the Lord.'It shows us that our faith, by which we run into that fortress, fitsus to enter the fortress, because it makes us partakers of Christ'spurity.

So my earnest question to you all is—Have you 'fled for refuge to layhold' on that Saviour in whom God has set His name? Like Lot out ofSodom, like the manslayer to the city of refuge, like the unwarlikepeasants to the baron's tower, before the border thieves, have yougone thither for shelter from all the sorrows and guilt and dangersthat are marching terrible against you? Can you take up as yours theold grand words of exuberant trust in which the Psalmist heapstogether the names of the Lord, as if walking about the city of hisdefence, and telling the towers thereof, 'The Lord is my rock, and myfortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust;my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower'? If youhave, then 'because you have made the Lord your refuge, there shall noevil befall you.'

III. So we have, lastly, what comes of sheltering in these tworefuges.

As to the former of them, I said at the beginning of these remarksthat the words 'is safe' were more accurately as well as picturesquelyrendered by 'is set aloft.' They remind us of the psalm which has manypoints of resemblance with this text, and which gives the very samethought when it says, 'I will set him on high, because he hath knownMy name.' The fugitive is taken within the safe walls of the strongtower, and is set up high on the battlements, looking down upon thebaffled pursuers, and far beyond the reach of their arrows. To standupon that tower lifts a man above the region where temptations fly,above the region where sorrow strikes; lifts him above sin and guiltand condemnation and fear, and calumny and slander, and sickness, andseparation and loneliness and death; 'and all the ills that flesh isheir to.'

Or, as one of the old Puritan commentators has it: 'The tower is sodeep that no pioneer can undermine it, so thick that no cannon canbreach it, so high that no ladder can scale it.' 'The righteousrunneth into it,' and is perched up there; and can look down like Learfrom his cliff, and all the troubles that afflict the lower levelsshall 'show scarce so gross as beetles' from the height where hestands, safe and high, hidden in the name of the Lord.

I say little about the other side. Brethren! the world in any of itsforms, the good things of this life in any shape, whether that ofmoney or any other, can do a great deal for us. They can keep a greatmany inconveniences from us, they can keep a great many cares andpains and sorrows from us. I was going to say, to carry out themetaphor, they can keep the rifle-bullets from us. But, ah! when thebig siege-guns get into position and begin to play; when the greattrials that every life must have, sooner or later, come to open fireat us, then the defence that anything in this outer world can givecomes rattling about our ears very quickly. It is like the pasteboardhelmet which looked as good as if it had been steel, and did admirablyas long as no sword struck it.

There is only one thing that will keep us peaceful and unharmed, andthat is to trust our poor shelterless lives and sinful souls to theSaviour who has died for us. In Him we find the hiding-place, in whichsecure, as beneath the shadow of a great rock, dreaded evils will passus by, as impotent to hurt as savages before a castle fortified bymodern skill. All the bitterness of outward calamities will be takenfrom them before they reach us. Their arrows will still wound, but Hewill have wiped the poison off before He lets them be shot at us. Theforce of temptation will be weakened, for if we live near Him we shallhave other tastes and desires. The bony fingers of the skeleton Death,who drags men from all other homes, will not dislodge us from ourfortress-dwelling. Hid in Him we shall neither fear going down to thegrave, nor coming up from it, nor judgment, nor eternity. Then, Ibeseech you, make no delay. Escape! flee for your life! A growing hostof evil marches swift against you. Take Christ for your defence andcry to Him,

'Lo! from sin and grief and shame,
Hide me, Jesus! in Thy name.'

A STRING OF PEARLS

'Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging: and whosoever is deceivedthereby is not wise. 2. The fear of a king is as the roaring of alion: whoso provoketh him to anger sinneth against his own soul. 3. Itis an honour for a man to cease from strife: but every fool will bemeddling. 4. The sluggard will not plough by reason of the cold;therefore shall he beg in harvest, and have nothing. 5. Counsel in theheart of man is like deep water; but a man of understanding will drawit out. 6. Most men will proclaim every one his own goodness: but afaithful man who can find? 7. The just man walketh in his integrity:his children are blessed after him.'—PROVERBS xx. 1-7.

The connection between the verses of this passage is only in theircommon purpose to set forth some details of a righteous life, and tobrand the opposite vices. A slight affinity may be doubtfully tracedin one or two adjacent proverbs, but that is all.

First comes temperance, enforced by the picture of a drunkard. Wineand strong drink are, as it were, personified, and their effects onmen are painted as their own characters. And an ugly picture it is,which should hang in the gallery of every young man and woman. 'Wineis a mocker.' Intemperance delights in scoffing at all pure, lofty,sacred things. It is the ally of wild profanity, which sends up itstipsy and clumsy ridicule against Heaven itself. If a man wants tolose his sense of reverence, his susceptibility for what is noble, lethim take to drink, and the thing is done. If he would fain keep thesefresh and quick, let him eschew what is sure to deaden them. Of coursethere are other roads to the same end, but there is no other end tothis road. Nobody ever knew a drunkard who did not scoff at thingsthat should be reverenced, and that because he knew that he was actingin defiance of them.

'A brawler,' or, as Delitzsch renders it, 'boisterous'—look into aliquor-store if you want to verify that, or listen to a drunken partycoming back from an excursion and making night hideous with theirbellowings, or go to any police court on a Monday morning. We inEngland are familiar with the combination on police charge-sheets,'drunk and disorderly.' So does the old proverb-maker seem to havebeen. Drink takes off the brake, and every impulse has its own way,and makes as much noise as it can.

The word rendered in Authorised Version 'is deceived,' and in RevisedVersion 'erreth,' is literally 'staggers' or 'reels,' and it is moregraphic to keep that meaning. There is a world of quiet irony in theunexpectedly gentle close of the sentence, 'is not wise.' How muchstronger the assertion might have been! Look at the drunkard as hestaggers along, scoffing at everything purer and higher than himself,and ready to fight with his own shadow, and incapable of self-control.He has made himself the ugly spectacle you see. Will anybody callhim wise?

The next proverb applies directly to a state of things which mostnations have outgrown. Kings who can give full scope to their anger,and who inspire mainly terror, are anomalies in civilised countriesnow. The proverb warns that it is no trifle to rouse the lion from hislair, and that when he begins to growl there is danger. The man whostirs him 'forfeits his own life,' or, at all events, imperils it.

The word rendered 'sins' has for its original meaning 'misses,' andseems to be so used here, as also in Proverbs viii. 36. 'Against' is asupplement. The maxim inculcates the wisdom of avoiding conduct whichmight rouse an anger so sure to destroy its object. And that is a goodmaxim for ordinary times in all lands, monarchies or republics. Forthere is in constitutional kingdoms and in republics an uncrownedmonarch, to the full as irresponsible, as easily provoked, and asrelentless in hunting its opponents to destruction, as any old-worldtyrant. Its name is Public Opinion. It is not well to provoke it. If aman does, let him well understand that he takes his life, or what issometimes dearer than life, in his hand. Not only self-preservation,which the proverb and Scripture recognise as a legitimate motive, buthigher considerations, dictate compliance with the ruling forces ofour times, as far as may be. Conscience only has the right to limitthis precept, and to say, 'Let the brute roar, and never mind if youdo forfeit your life. It is your duty to say "No," though allthe world should be saying "Yes."'

A slight thread of connection may be established between the secondand third proverbs. The latter, like the former, commends peacefulnessand condemns pugnacity. Men talk of 'glory' as the warrior's meed, andthe so-called Christian world has not got beyond the semi-barbarousstage which regards 'honour' as mainly secured by fighting. But thisancient proverb-maker had learned a better conception of what 'honour'or 'glory' was, and where it grew.

'Peace hath her victories
No less renowned than war,'

said Milton. But our proverb goes farther than 'no less,' and givesgreater glory to the man who never takes up arms, or who laysthem down. The saying is true, not only about warfare, but in allregions of life. Fighting is generally wasted time. Controversialistsof all sorts, porcupine-like people, who go through the world allsharp quills sticking out to pierce, are less to be admired thanpeace-loving souls. Any fool can 'show his teeth,' as the word for'quarrelling' means. But it takes a wise man, and a man whose spirithas been made meek by dwelling near God in Christ, to withhold theangry word, the quick retort. It is generally best to let the gloveflung down lie where it is. There are better things to do than tosquabble.

Verse 4 is a parable as well as a proverb. If a man sits by thefireside because the north wind is blowing, when he ought to be out inthe field holding the plough with frost-nipped fingers, he will beg(or, perhaps, seek for a crop) in harvest, and will findnothing, when others are rejoicing in the slow result of wintershowers and of their toilsome hours. So, in all life, if the fittingmoments for preparation are neglected, late repentance avails nothing.The student who dawdles when he should be working, will be sure tofail when the examination comes on. It is useless to begin ploughingwhen your neighbours are driving their reaping machines into thefields. 'There is a time to sow, and a time to reap.' The law isinexorable for this life, and not less certainly so for the life tocome. The virgins who cried in vain, 'Lord, Lord, open to us!' andwere answered, 'Too late, too late, ye cannot enter now!' are sistersof the man who was hindered from ploughing because it was cold, andasked in vain for bread when harvest time had come. 'To-day, if yewill to hear His voice, harden not your hearts.'

The next proverb is a piece of shrewd common sense. It sets before ustwo men, one reticent, and the other skilful in worming out designswhich he wishes to penetrate. The former is like a deep draw-well; thelatter is like a man who lets down a bucket into it, and winds it upfull. 'Still waters are deep.' The faculty of reading men may beabused to bad ends, but is worth cultivating, and may be allied tohigh aims, and serve to help in accomplishing these. It may aid goodmen in detecting evil, in knowing how to present God's truth to heartsthat need it, in pouring comfort into closely shut spirits. Not onlyastute business men or politicians need it, but all who would helptheir fellows to love God and serve Him—preachers, teachers, and thelike. And there would be more happy homes if parents and childrentried to understand one another. We seldom dislike a man when we cometo know him thoroughly. We cannot help him till we do.

The proverb in verse 6 is susceptible of different renderings in thefirst clause. Delitzsch and others would translate, 'Almost every manmeets a man who is gracious to him.' The contrast will then be betweenpartial 'grace' or kindness, and thoroughgoing reliableness ortrustworthiness. The rendering of the Authorised and Revised Versions,on the other hand, makes the contrast between talk and reality,professions of goodwill and acts which come up to these. In eithercase, the saying is the bitter fruit of experience. Even charity,which 'believeth all things,' cannot but admit that soft words aremore abundant than deeds which verify them. It is no breach of the lawof love to open one's eyes to facts, and so to save oneself fromtaking paper money for gold, except at a heavy discount. Perhaps thereticence, noted in the previous proverb, led to the thought of aloose-tongued profession of kindliness as a contrast. Neither the onenor the other is admirable. The practical conclusion from the facts inthis proverb is double—do not take much heed of men's eulogiums ontheir own benevolence; do not trumpet your own praises. Caution andmodesty are parts of Christian perfection.

The last saying points to the hereditary goodness which sometimes, forour comfort, we do see, as well as to the halo from a saintly parentwhich often surrounds his children. Note that there may be more thanmere succession in time conveyed by the expression 'after him.' It maymean following in his footsteps. Such children are blessed, both inmen's benedictions and in their own peaceful hearts. Weightyresponsibilities lie upon the children of parents who have transmittedto them a revered name. A Christian's children are doubly bound tocontinue the parental tradition, and are doubly criminal if theydepart from it. There is no sadder sight than that of a godly fatherwailing over an ungodly son, unless it be that of the ungodly son whomakes him wail. Absalom hanging by his curls in the oak-tree, andDavid groaning, 'My son, my son!' touch all hearts. Alas that thetragedy should be so often repeated in our homes to-day!

THE SLUGGARD IN HARVEST

'The sluggard will not plow by reason of the cold; therefore shall hebeg in harvest, and have nothing.'—PROVERBS xx. 4.

Like all the sayings of this book, this is simply a piece of plain,practical common sense, intended to inculcate the lesson that menshould diligently seize the opportunity whilst it is theirs. Thesluggard is one of the pet aversions of the Book of Proverbs, which,unlike most other manuals of Eastern wisdom, has a profound reverencefor honest work.

He is a great drone, for he prefers the chimney-corner to the field,even although it cannot have been very cold if the weather was openenough to admit of ploughing. And he is a great fool, too, for he buyshis comfort at a very dear price, as do all men who live for to-day,and let to-morrow look out for itself.

But like most of the other sayings of this book, my text containsprinciples which are true in the highest regions of human life, forthe laws which rule up there are not different from those whichregulate the motions of its lower phases. Religion recognises the samepractical common-sense principles that daily business does. I ventureto take this as my text now, in addressing young people, because theyhave special need of, and special facilities for, the wisdom which itenjoins; and because the words only want to be turned with their facesheavenwards in order to enforce the great appeal, the only one whichit is worth my while to make, and worth your while to come here tolisten to; the appeal to each of you, 'I beseech you, by the merciesof God, that ye yield yourselves to God' now.

My object, then, will be perhaps best accomplished if I simply ask youto look, first, at the principles involved in this quaint proverb;and, secondly, to apply them in one or two directions.

I. First, then, let us try to bring out the principles which arecrystallised in this picturesque saying.

The first thought evidently is: present conduct determines futureconditions. Life is a series of epochs, each of which has its destinedwork, and that being done, all is well; and that being left undone,all is ill.

Now, of course, in regard to many of the accidents of a man'scondition, his conduct is only one, and by no means the most powerful,of the factors which settle them. The position which a man fills, thetasks which he has to perform, and the whole host of things which makeup the externals of his life, depend upon far other conditions thanany that he brings to them. But yet on the whole it is true that whata man does, and is, settles how he fares. And this is the mysticalimportance and awful solemnity of the most undistinguished moments andmost trivial acts of this awful life of ours, that each of them has aninfluence on all that comes after, and may deflect our whole courseinto altogether different paths. It is not only the moments that wevulgarly and blindly call great which settle our condition, but it isthe accumulation of the tiny ones; the small deeds, the unnoticedacts, which make up so large a portion of every man's life. It isthese, after all, that are the most powerful in settling what we shallbe. There come to each of us supreme moments in our lives. Yes! and ifin all the subordinate and insignificant moments we have not beengetting ready for them, but have been nurturing dispositions andacquiring habits, and cultivating ways of acting and thinking whichcondemn us to fail beneath the requirements of the supreme moment,then it passes us by, and we gain nothing from it. Tiny mica flakeshave built up the Matterhorn, and the minute acts of life after all,by their multiplicity, make up life to be what it is. 'Sand is heavy,'says this wise book of Proverbs. The aggregation of the minutestgrains, singly so light that they would not affect the most delicatebalance, weighs upon us with a weight 'heavy as frost, and deep almostas life.' The mystic significance of the trivialities of life is thatin them we largely make destiny, and that in them we wholly makecharacter.

And now, whilst this is true about all life, it is especially trueabout youth. You have facilities for moulding your being which some ofus older men would give a great deal to have again for a moment, withour present knowledge and bitter experience. The lava that hassolidified into hard rock with us is yet molten and plastic with you.You can, I was going to say, be anything you make up your minds to;and, within reasonable limits, the bold saying is true. 'Ask what thouwilt and it shall be given to thee' is what nature and Providence,almost as really as grace and Christ, say to every young man andwoman, because you are the arbiters, not wholly, indeed, of yourdestiny, and are the architects, altogether, of your character, whichis more.

And so I desire to lay upon your hearts this threadbare old truth,because you are living in the ploughing time, and the harvest ismonths ahead. Whilst it is true that every day is the child of all theyesterdays, and the parent of all the to-morrows, it is also true thatlife has its predominant colouring, varying at different epochs, andthat for you, though you are largely inheriting, even now, the resultsof your past, brief as it is, still more largely is the future, theplastic future, in your hands, to be shaped into such forms as youwill. 'The child is father of the man,' and the youth has the blessedprerogative of standing before the mouldable to-morrow, and possessinga nature still capable of being cast into an almost infinite varietyof form.

But then, not only do you stand with special advantages for makingyourselves what you will, but you specially need to be reminded of theterrible importance and significance of each moment. For this is thevery irony of human life, that we seldom awake to the sense of itsimportance till it is nearly ended, and that the period whenreflection would avail the most is precisely the period when it is theleast strong and habitual. What is the use of an old man like methinking about what he could make of life if he had it to do overagain, as compared with the advantage of your doing it? Yet I dare saythat for once that you think thus, my contemporaries do it fiftytimes. So, not to abate one jot of your buoyancy, not to cast anyshadow over joys and hopes, but to lift you to a sense of the blessedpossibilities of your position, I want to lay this principle of mytext upon your consciences, and to beseech you to try to keep itoperatively in mind—you are making yourselves, and settling yourdestiny, by every day of your plastic youth.

There is another principle as clear in my text—viz., the easy road isgenerally the wrong one. The sluggard was warmer at the fireside thanhe would be in the field with his plough in the north wind, and so hestopped there. There are always obstacles in the way of noble life. Itis always easier, as flesh judges, to live ignobly than to live asJesus Christ would have us live. 'Endure hardness' is the commandmentto all who would be soldiers of any great cause, and would not flingaway their lives in low self-indulgence. If a man is going to beanything worth being, or to do anything worth doing, he must startwith, and adhere to this, 'to scorn delights and live laborious days.'And only then has he a chance of rising above the fat dull weed thatrots in Lethe's stream, and of living anything like the life that itbecomes him to live.

Be sure of this, dear young friends, that self-denial and rigidself-control, in its two forms, of stopping your ears to theattractions of lower pleasures, and of cheerily encounteringdifficulties, is an indispensable condition of any life which shall atthe last yield a harvest worth the gathering, and not destined to be

'Cast as rubbish to the void,
When God hath made the pile complete.'

Never allow yourselves to be turned away from the plain path of dutyby any difficulties. Never allow yourselves to be guided in yourchoice of a road by the consideration that the turf is smooth, and theflowers by the side of it sweet. Remember, the sluggard would havebeen warmer, with a wholesome warmth, at the ploughtail than coweringin the chimney corner. And the things that seem to be difficulties andhardships only need to be fronted to yield, like the east wind in itsseason, good results in bracing and hardening. Fix it in your mindsthat nothing worth doing is done but at the cost of difficulty andtoil.

That is a lesson that this generation wants, even more than some thathave lived. I suppose it is one of the temptations of older men tolook askance upon the amusem*nts of younger ones, but I cannot helplifting up here one word of earnest appeal to the young men and womenof this congregation, and beseeching them, as they value the noblenessof their own lives, and their power of doing any real good, to bewareof what seems to me the altogether extravagant and excessive love, andfollowing after, of mere amusem*nt which characterises this day to solarge an extent. Better toil than such devotion to mere relaxation.

The last principle here is that the season let slip is gone for ever.Whether my text, in its second picture, intends us to think of thesluggard when the harvest came as 'begging' from his neighbours; orwhether, as is possibly the construction of the Hebrew, it simplymeans to describe him as going out into his field, and looking at it,and asking for the harvest and seeing nothing there but weeds, thelesson it conveys is the same—the old, old lesson, so threadbare thatI should be almost ashamed of taking up your time with it unless Ibelieved that you did not lay it to heart as you should. Opportunityis bald behind, and must be grasped by the forelock. Life is full oftragic might-have-beens. No regret, no remorse, noself-accusation, no clear recognition that I was a fool will avail onejot. The time for ploughing is past; you cannot stick the share intothe ground when you should be wielding the sickle. 'Too late' is thesaddest of human words. And, my brother, as the stages of our livesroll on, unless each is filled as it passes with the discharge of theduties, and the appropriation of the benefits which it brings, then,to all eternity, that moment will never return, and the sluggard maybeg in harvest, that he may have the chance to plough once more, andhave none. The student that has spent the term in indolence, perhapsdissipation, has no time to get up his subject when he is in theexamination-room, with the paper before him. And life, and nature, andGod's law, which is the Christian expression for the heathen one ofnature, are stern taskmasters, and demand that the duty shallbe done in its season or left undone for ever.

II. In the second place, let me, just in a few words, carry the lampof these principles of my text and flash its rays upon one or twosubjects.

Let me say a word, first, about the lowest sphere to which my textapplies. I referred at the beginning of this discourse to this proverbas simply an inculcation of the duty of honest work, and of thenecessity of being wide awake to opportunities in our daily work. Now,the most of you young men, and many of you young women, are destinedfor ordinary trades, professions, walks in commerce; and I do notsuppose it to be beneath the dignity of the pulpit to say this: Do nottrust to any way of getting on by dodges or speculation, or favour, oranything but downright hard work. Don't shirk difficulties, don't tryto put the weight of the work upon some colleague or other, that youmay have an easier life of it. Set your backs to your tasks, andremember that 'in all labour there is profit'; and whether the profitcomes to you in the shape of advancement, position, promotion in youroffices, partnerships perhaps, wealth, and the like, or no, the profitlies in the work. Honest toil is the key to pleasure.

Then, let me apply the text in a somewhat higher direction. Carrythese principles with you in the cultivation of that important part ofyourself—your intellects. What would some of us old students give ifwe had the flexibility, the power of assimilating new truth, theretentive memories, that you young people have? Some of you, perhaps,are students by profession; I should like all of you to make aconscience of making the best of your brains, as God has given them toyou, a trust. 'The sluggard will not plough by reason of the cold.'The dawdler will read no books that tax his intellect, therefore shallhe beg in harvest and have nothing. Amidst all the flood of feeble,foolish, flaccid literature with which we are afflicted at this day, Iwonder how many of you young men and women ever set yourselves to somegreat book or subject that you cannot understand without effort.Unless you do you are not faithful stewards of the supreme gift of Godto you of that great faculty which apprehends and lives upon truth. Soremember the sluggard by his fireside; and do you get out with yourplough.

Again I say, apply these principles to a higher work still—that ofthe formation of character. Nothing will come to you noble, great,elevating, in that direction, unless it is sought, and sought withtoil.

'In woods, in waves, in wars, she wont to dwell,
And will be found with peril and with pain;
Before her gate high Heaven did sweat ordain,
And wakeful watches ever to abide.'

Wisdom and truth, and all their elevating effects upon humancharacter, require absolutely for their acquirement effort and toil.You have the opportunity still. As I said a moment ago—you may mouldyourselves into noble forms. But in the making of character we have towork as a painter in fresco does, with a swift brush on the plasterwhile it is wet. It sets and hardens in an hour. And men drift intohabits which become tyrannies and dominant before they know where theyare. Don't let yourselves be shaped by accident, by circ*mstance.Remember that you can build yourselves up into forms of beauty by thehelp of the grace of God, and that for such building there must be thediligent labour and the wise clutching at opportunity andunderstanding of the times which my text suggests.

And, lastly, let these principles applied to religion teach us thewisdom and necessity of beginning the Christian life at the earliestmoment. I am by no means prepared to say that the extreme tragedy ofmy text can ever be wrought out in regard to the religious experienceof any man here on earth, for I believe that at any moment in hiscareer, however faultful and stained his past has been, and howeverlong and obstinate has been his continuance in evil, a man may turnhimself to Jesus Christ, and beg, and not in vain, nor ever find'nothing' there.

But whilst all that is quite true, I want you, dear young friends, tolay this to heart, that if you do not yield yourselves to Jesus Christnow, in your early days, and take Him for your Saviour, and rest yoursouls upon Him, and then take Him for your Captain and Commander, foryour Pattern and Example, for your Companion and your Aim, you willlose what you can never make up by any future course. You lose yearsof blessedness, of peaceful society with Him, of illumination andinspiration. You lose all the sweetness of the days which you spendaway from Him. And if at the end you did come to Him, you would haveone regret, deep and permanent, that you had not gone to Him before.If you put off, as some of you are putting off, what you know youought to do—namely, give your hearts to Jesus Christ and becomeHis—think of what you are laying up for yourselves thereby. You getmuch that it would be gain to lose—bitter memories, defiledimaginations, stings of conscience, habits that it will be very hardto break, and the sense of having wasted the best part of your lives,and having but the fa*g end to bring to Him. And if you put off, assome of you are disposed to do, think of the risk you run. It is veryunlikely that susceptibilities will remain if they are trifled with.You remember that Felix trembled once, and sent for Paul often; but wenever hear that he trembled any more. And it is quite possible, andquite likely, more likely than not, that you will never be as nearbeing a Christian again as you are now, if you turn away from theimpressions that are made upon you at this moment, and stifle thehalf-formed resolution.

But there is a more solemn thought still. This life as a whole is tothe future life as the ploughing time is to the harvest, and there areawful words in Scripture which seem to point in the same direction inreference to the irrevocable and irreversible issue of neglectedopportunities on earth, as this proverb does in regard to theploughing and harvests of this life.

I dare not conceal what seems to me the New Testament confirmation anddeepening of the solemn words of our text, 'He shall beg in harvestand have nothing,' by the Master's words, 'Many shall say to me inthat day, Lord! Lord I and I will say, I never knew you.' The fivevirgins who rubbed their sleepy eyes and asked for oil when the masterwas at hand got none, and when they besought, 'Lord! Lord! open tous,' all the answer was, 'Too late! too late! ye cannot enter now.'Now, while it is called day, harden not your hearts.

BREAD AND GRAVEL

'"Bread of deceit" is sweet to a man; but afterwards his mouth shallbe filled with gravel.'—PROVERBS xx. 17.

'Bread of deceit' is a somewhat ambiguous phrase, which may meaneither of two things, and perhaps means both. It may either mean anygood obtained by deceit, or good which deceives in its possession. Inthe former signification it would appear to have reference primarilyto unjustly gotten gain, while in the latter it has a wider meaningand applies to all the worthless treasures and lying delights of life.The metaphor is full of homely vigour, and the contrast between thesweet bread and the gravel that fills the mouth and breaks the teeth,carries a solemn lesson which is perpetually insisted upon in thisbook of Proverbs, and confirmed in every man's experience.

I. The first lesson here taught is the perpetuity of the mosttransient actions.

We are tempted to think that a deed done is done with, and to grasp atmomentary pleasure, and ignore its abiding consequences. But of allthe delusions by which men are blinded to the true solemnity of lifenone is more fatal than that which ignores the solemn 'afterwards'that has to be taken into account. For, whatever issues in outwardlife our actions may have, they have all a very real influence ontheir doers; each of them tends to modify character, to form habits,to drag after itself a whole trail of consequences. Each strikesinwards and works outwards. The whole of a life may be set forth inthe pregnant figure, 'A sower went forth to sow,' and 'Whatsoever aman soweth, that shall he also reap.' The seed may lie long dormant,but the green shoots will appear in due time, and pass through all thestages of 'first the blade, and then the ear, and after that the fullcorn in the ear.' The sower has to become the reaper, and the reaperhas to eat of the bread made from the product of the long past sowing.Shall we have to reap a harvest of poisonous tares, or ofwholesome wheat? 'If 'twere done when 'tis done, 'twere well it weredone quickly'; but since it begins to do when 'tis done, it were oftenbetter that it were not done at all. A momentary pause to askourselves when tempted to evil, 'And what then?' would burst not a fewof the painted bubbles after which we often chase.

Is there any reason to suppose that these permanent consequences ofour transient actions are confined in their operation to this life?Does not such a present, which is mainly the continuous result of thewhole past, seem at least to prophesy and guarantee a similar future?Most of us, I suppose, believe in the life continuous through andafter death retributive in a greater degree than life here. Whateverchanges may be involved in the laying aside of the 'earthly house ofthis tabernacle,' it seems folly to suppose that in it we lay asidethe consequences of our past inwrought into our very selves. Surelywisdom suggests that we try to take into view the whole scope of ouractions, and to carry our vision as far as the consequences reach. Weshould all be wiser and better if we thought more of the 'afterwards,'whether in its partial form in the present, or in its solemncompletion in the future beyond.

II. The bitterness of what is sweet and wrong.

There is no need to deny that 'bread of deceit is sweet to a man.'There is a certain pleasure in a lie, and the taste of the breadpurchased by it is not embittered because it has been bought bydeceit. If we succeed in getting the good which any strong desirehungers after, the gratification of the desire ministers pleasure. Ifa man is hungry, it matters not to his hunger how he has procured thebread which he devours. And so with all forms of good which appeal tosense. The sweetness of the thing desired and obtained is more subtle,but not less real, if it nourishes some inclination or taste of ahigher nature. But such sweetness in its very essence is momentary,and even, whilst being masticated, 'bread of deceit' turns intogravel; and a mouthful of it breaks the teeth, excoriates the gums,interferes with breathing, and ministers no nourishment. The metaphorhas but too familiar illustrations in the experience of us all. Howoften have we flattered ourselves with the thought, 'If I could butget this or that, how happy I should be'? How often when we got ithave we been as happy as we expected? We had forgotten the voice ofconscience, which may be overborne for a moment, but begins to speakmore threateningly when its prohibitions have been neglected; we hadforgotten that there is no satisfying our hungry desires with 'breadof deceit,' but that they grow much faster than it can be presented tothem; we had forgotten the evil that was strengthened in us when ithas been fed; we had forgotten that the remembrance of past delightsoften becomes a present sorrow and shame; we had forgotten avengingconsequences of many sorts which follow surely in the train of sweetsatisfactions which are wrong.

So, even in this life nothing keeps its sweetness which is wrong, andnothing which is sweet and wrong avoids a tang of intensestbitterness 'afterwards.' And all that bitterness will be increased inanother world, if there is another, when God gives us to read the bookof our lives which we ourselves have written. Many a page that recordspast sweetness will then be felt to be written, 'within and without,'with lamentation and woe.

All bitterness of what is sweet and wrong makes it certain that sin isthe stupidest, as well as the wickedest, thing that a man can do.

III. The abiding sweetness of true bread.

In a subordinate sense, the true bread may be taken as meaning our owndeeds inspired by love of God and approved by conscience. They mayoften be painful to do, but the pain merges into calm pleasure, andconscience whispers a foretaste of heaven's 'Well done! good andfaithful servant.' The roll may be bitter to the lips, but, eaten,becomes sweet as honey; whereas the world's bread is sweet at firstbut bitter at last. The highest wisdom and the most exactingconscience absolutely coincide in that which they prescribe, andScripture has the warrant of universal experience in proclaiming thatsin in its subtler and more refined forms, as well as in its grosser,is a gigantic mistake, and the true wisdom and reasonable regard forone's own interest alike point in the same direction,—to a life basedon the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord, as being the life whichyields the happiest results today and perpetual bliss hereafter. Butlet us not forget that in the highest sense Christ Himself is the'true bread that cometh down from heaven.' He may be bitter at first,being eaten with tears of penitence and painful efforts at conqueringsin, but even in the first bitterness there is sweetness beyond allthe earth can give. He 'spreads a table before us in the presence ofour enemies,' and the bread which He gives tastes as the manna of olddid, like wafers made of honey. Only perverted appetites loathe thislight bread and prefer the strong-favoured leeks and garlics of Egypt.They who sit at the table in the wilderness will finally sit at thetable prepared in the kingdom of the heavens.

A CONDENSED GUIDE FOR LIFE

'My son, if thine heart be wise, my heart shall rejoice, even mine.16. Yea, my reins shall rejoice, when thy lips speak right things. 17.Let not thine heart envy sinners: but be thou in the fear of the Lordall the day long. 18. For surely there is an end; and thineexpectation shall not be cut off. 19. Hear thou, my son, and be wise,and guide thine heart in the way. 20. Be not among winebibbers; amongriotous eaters of flesh: 21. For the drunkard and the glutton shallcome to poverty: and drowsiness shall clothe a man with rags. 22.Hearken unto thy father that begat thee, and despise not thy motherwhen she is old. 23. Buy the truth and sell it not; also wisdom, andinstruction, and understanding.'—PROVERBS xxiii. 15-23.

The precepts of this passage may be said to sum up the teaching of thewhole Book of Proverbs. The essentials of moral character aresubstantially the same in all ages, and these ancient advices fit veryclose to the young lives of this generation. The gospel has, no doubt,raised the standard of morals, and, in many respects, altered theconception and perspective of virtues; but its great distinction lies,not so much in the novelty of its commandments as in the new motivesand powers to obey them. Reverence for parents and teachers, thehabitual 'fear of the Lord,' temperance, eager efforts to win andretain 'the truth,' have always been recognised as duties; but thereis a long weary distance between recognition and practice, and he whodraws inspiration from Jesus Christ will have strength to traverse it,and to do and be what he knows that he should.

The passage may be broken up into four parts, which, taken together,are a young life's directory of conduct which is certain to lead topeace.

I. There is, first, an appeal to filial affection, and an unveiling ofpaternal sympathy (verses 15, 16). The paternal tone characteristic ofthe Book of Proverbs is most probably regarded as that of a teacheraddressing his disciples as his children. But the glimpse of theteacher's heart here given may well apply to parents too, and ought tobe true of all who can influence other and especially young hearts.Little power attends advices which are not sweetened by manifest love.Many a son has been kept back from evil by thinking, 'What would mymother say?' and many a sound admonition has been nothing but sound,because the tone of it betrayed that the giver did not much carewhether it was taken or not.

A true teacher must have his heart engaged in his lessons, and mustimpress his scholars with the conviction that their failure drives aknife into it, and their acceptance of them brings him purest joy. Onthe other hand, the disciple, and still more the child, must have asingularly cold nature who does not respond to loving solicitude anddoes not care whether he wounds or gladdens the heart which pours outit* love and solicitude over him. May we not see shining through thisloving appeal a truth in reference to the heart of the great Fatherand Teacher, who, in the depths of His divine blessedness, has nogreater joy than that His children should walk in the truth? God'sheart is glad when man's is wise.

Note, also, the wide general expression for goodness—a wise heart,lips speaking right things. The former is source, the latter stream.Only a pure fountain will send forth sweet waters. 'If thy heartbecome wise' is the more correct rendering, implying that there is noinborn wisdom, but that it must be made ours by effort. We arefoolish; we become wise.

What the writer means by wisdom he will tell us presently. Here helets us see that it is a good to be attained by appropriate means. Itis the foundation of 'right' speech. Nothing is more remarkable thanthe solemn importance which Scripture attaches to words, even more, wemight almost say than to deeds, therein reversing the usual estimateof their relative value. Putting aside the cases of insincerity,falsehood, and the like, a man's speech is a truer transcript ofhimself than his deeds, because less hindered and limited byexternals. The most precious wine drips from the grapes by their ownweight in the vat, without a turn of the screw. 'By thy words thoushalt be justified, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned.' 'God'sgreat gift of speech abused' is one of the commonest, leastconsidered, and most deadly sins.

II. We have next the one broad precept with its sure reward, whichunderlies all goodness (verses 17, 18). The supplement 'be thou,' inthe second clause of verse 17, obscures the close connection ofclauses. It is better to regard the verb of the first clause ascontinued in the second. Thus the one precept is set forth negativelyand positively: 'Strive not after [that is, seek not to imitate or beassociated with] sinners, but after the fear of the Lord.' The heartso striving becomes wise. So, then, wisdom is not the result ofcultivating the intellect, but of educating the desires andaspirations. It is moral and religious, rather than simplyintellectual. The magnificent personification of Wisdom at thebeginning of the book influences the subsequent parts, and the key tounderstanding that great conception is, 'The fear of the Lord is thebeginning of Wisdom.' The Greek goddess of Wisdom, noble as she is, isof the earth earthy when contrasted with that sovereign figure. PallasAthene, with her clear eyes and shining armour, is poor beside theWisdom of the Book of Proverbs, who dwelt with God 'or ever the earthwas,' and comes to men with loving voice and hands laden with thegifts of 'durable riches and righteousness.'

He is the wise man who fears God with the fear which has no tormentand is compact of love and reverence. He is on the way to become wisewhose seeking heart turns away from evil and evil men, and feels afterGod, as the vine tendrils after a stay, or as the sunflower turns tothe light. For such wholehearted desire after the one supreme goodthere must be resolute averting of desire from 'sinners.' In thisworld full of evil there will be no vigorous longing for good and God,unless there be determined abstention from the opposite. We have but alimited quantity of energy, and if it is frittered away onmultifarious creatures, none will be left to consecrate to God. Thereare lakes which discharge their waters at both ends, sending onestream east to the Atlantic and one west to the Pacific; but the heartcannot direct its issues of life in that fashion. They must be bankedup if they are to run deep and strong. 'All the current of my being'must 'set to thee' if my tiny trickle is to reach the great ocean, tobe lost in which is blessedness.

And such energy of desire and direction is not to be occasional, but'all the day long.' It is possible to make life an unbroken seekingafter and communion with God, even while plunged in common tasks andsmall cares. It is possible to approximate indefinitely to that idealof continually 'dwelling in the house of the Lord'; and without somesuch approximation there will be little realising of the Lord, soughtby fits and starts, and then forgotten in the hurry of business orpleasure. A photographic plate exposed for hours will receive thepicture of far-off stars which would never show on one exposed for afew minutes.

The writer is sure that such desires will be satisfied, and in verse18 says so. The 'reward' (Rev. Ver.) of which he is sure is theoutcome of the life of such seekers after God. It does not necessarilyrefer to the future after death, though that may be included in it.But what is meant is that no seeking after the fear of the Lord shallbe in vain. There is a tacit emphasis on 'thy,' contrasting the surefulfilment of hopes set on God with the as sure 'cutting of' of thosemistakenly fixed upon creatures and vanities. Psalm xxxvii. 38, hasthe same word here rendered 'reward' and declares that 'the future [orreward] of the wicked shall be cut off.' The great fulfilment of thisassurance is reserved for the life beyond; but even here among alldisappointments and hopes of which fulfilment is so oftendisappointment also, it remains true that the one striving whichcannot be fruitless is striving for more of God, and the one hopewhich is sure to be realised, and is better when realised thanexpected, is the hope set on Him. Surely, then, the certainty that ifwe delight ourselves in God He will give us the desires of our hearts,is a good argument, and should be with us an operative motive fordirecting desire and effort away from earth and towards Him.

III. Special precepts as to the control of the animal nature follow inverses 19-21. First, note that general one of verse 19, 'Guide thineheart in the way.' In most general terms, the necessity ofself-government is laid down. There is a 'way' in which we should becontent to travel. It is a definite path, and feet have to be keptfrom straying aside to wide wastes on either hand. Limitation, thefirm suppression of appetites, the coercing of these if they seek todraw aside, are implied in the very conception of 'the way.' And a manmust take the upper hand of himself, and, after all other guidance,must be his own guide; for God guides us by enabling us to guideourselves.

Temperance in the wider sense of the word is prominent among thevirtues flowing from fear of the Lord, and is the most elementaryinstance of 'guiding the heart.' Other forms of self-restraint inregard to animal appetites are spoken of in the context, but here thetwo of drunkenness and gluttony are bracketed together. They aresimilarly coupled in Deuteronomy xxi. 20, in the formula of accusationwhich parents are to bring against a degenerate son. Allusion to thatpassage is probable here, especially as the other crime mentioned init—namely, refusal to 'hear' parental reproof—is warned against inverse 22. The picture, then, here is that of a prodigal son, and wehave echoes of it in the great parable which paints first riotousliving, and then poverty and misery.

Drunkenness had obviously not reached the dimensions of a nationalcurse in the date when this lesson was written. We should not putover-eating side by side with it. But its ruinous consequences wereplain then, and the bitter experience of England and America repeatson a larger scale the old lesson that the most productive source ofpoverty, wretchedness, rags, and vice, is drink. Judges and socialreformers of all sorts concur in that now, though it has taken fiftyyears to hammer it into the public conscience. Perhaps in anotherfifty or so society may have succeeded in drawing the not very obscureinference that total abstinence and prohibition are wise. At any rate,they who seek after the fear of the Lord should draw it, and act onit.

IV. The last part is in verses 22 and 23. The appeal to filial dutycannot here refer to disciple and teacher, but to child and parents.It does not stand as an isolated precept, but as underscoring theimportant one which follows. But a word must be spared for it. Thehabits of ancient days gave a place to the father and mother whichmodern family life woefully lacks, and suffers in many ways for wantof. Many a parent in these days of slack control and precociousindependence might say, 'If I be a father, where is mine honour?'There was perhaps not enough of confidence between parent and child informer days, and authority on the one hand and submission on the othertoo much took the place of love; but nowadays the danger is all theother way—and it is a very real danger.

But the main point here is the earnest exhortation of verse 23, which,like that to the fear of the Lord, sums up all duty in one. The'truth' is, like 'wisdom,' moral and religious, and not merelyintellectual. 'Wisdom' is subjective, the quality or characteristic ofthe devout soul; 'truth' is objective, and may also be defined as thedeclared will of God. The possession of truth is wisdom. 'The entranceof Thy words giveth light.' It makes wise the simple. There is, then,such a thing as 'the truth' accessible to us. We can know it, and arenot to be for ever groping amid more or less likely guesses, but mayrest in the certitude that we have hold of foundation facts. For us,the truth is incarnate in Jesus, as He has solemnly asserted. Thattruth we shall, if we are wise, 'buy,' by shunning no effort,sacrifice, or trouble needed to secure it.

In the lower meanings of the word, our passage should fire us all, andespecially the young, to strain every muscle of the soul in order tomake truth for the intellect our own. The exhortation is needed inthis day of adoration of money and material good. Nobler and wiser farthe young man who lays himself out to know than he who is engrossedwith the hungry desire to have! But in the highest region of truth,the buying is 'without money and without price,' and all that we cangive in exchange is ourselves. We buy the truth when we know that wecannot earn it, and forsaking self-trust and self-pleasing, consent toreceive it as a free gift. 'Sell it not,'—let no material good oradvantage, no ease, slothfulness, or worldly success, tempt you tocast it away; for its 'fruit is better than gold,' and its 'revenuethan choice silver.' We shall make a bad bargain if we sell it foranything beneath the stars; for 'wisdom is better than rubies,' and hehas been cheated in the transaction who has given up 'the truth' andgot instead 'the whole world.'

THE AFTERWARDS AND OUR HOPE

'Be thou in the fear of the Lord all the day long. 18. For surelythere is an end and thine expectation shall not be cut off.'—PROVERBSxxiii. 17, 18.

The Book of Proverbs seldom looks beyond the limits of the temporal,but now and then the mists lift and a wider horizon is disclosed. Ourtext is one of these exceptional instances, and is remarkable, notonly as expressing confidence in the future, but as expressing it in avery striking way. 'Surely there is an end,' says our AuthorisedVersion, substituting in the margin, for end, 'reward.' The latterword is placed in the text of the Revised Version. But neither 'end'nor 'reward' conveys the precise idea. The word so translatedliterally means 'something that comes after.' So it is the veryopposite of 'end', it is really that which lies beyond the end—the'sequel,' or the 'future'—as the margin of the Revised Version givesalternatively, or, more simply still, the afterwards. Surely there isan afterwards behind the end. And then the proverb goes on to specifyone aspect of that afterwards: 'Thine expectation'—or, better,because more simply, thy hope—shall not be cut off. And then, uponthese two convictions that there is, if I might so say, an afterclap,and that it is the time and the sphere in which the fairest hopes thata man can paint to himself shall be surpassed by the reality, itbuilds the plain partial exhortation: 'Be thou in the fear of the Lordall the day long.'

So then, we have three things here, the certainty of the afterwards,the immortality of hope consequent thereon, and the bearing of thesefacts on the present.

I. The certainty of the hereafter.

Now, this Book of Proverbs, as I have said in the great collection ofpopular sayings which makes the bulk of it, has no enthusiasm, nopoetry, no mysticism. It has religion, and it has a very pure andlofty morality, but, for the most part, it deals with maxims ofworldly prudence, and sometimes with cynical ones, and represents, onthe whole, the wisdom of the market-place, and the 'man in thestreet.' But now and then, as I have said, we hear strains of a highermood. My text, of course, might be watered down and narrowed so as topoint only to sequels to deeds realised in this life. And then itwould be teaching us simply the very much needed lessons that even inthis life, 'Whatever a man soweth that shall he also reap.' But itseems to me that we are entitled to see here, as in one or two otherplaces in the Book of Proverbs, a dim anticipation of a future lifebeyond the grave. I need not trouble you with quoting parallelpassages which are sown thinly up and down the book, but I venture totake the words in the wider sense to which I have referred.

Now, the question comes to be, where did the coiners of Proverbs,whose main interest was in the obvious maxims of a prudentialmorality, get this conviction? They did not get it from any loftyexperience of communion with God, like that which in the seventy-thirdPsalm marks the very high-water mark of Old Testament faith in regardto a future life, where the Psalmist finds himself so completelyblessed and well in present fellowship with God, that he must needspostulate its eternal continuance, and just because he has made Godthe portion of his heart, and is holding fellowship with Him, is surethat nothing can intervene to break that sweet communion. They did notget it from any clear definite revelation, such as we have in theresurrection of Jesus Christ, which has made that future life far morethan an inference for us, but they got it from thinking over the factsof this present life as they appeared to them, looked at from thestandpoint of a belief in God, and in righteousness. And so theyrepresent to us the impression that is made upon a man's mind, if hehas the 'eye that hath kept watch o'er man's mortality,' that is madeby the facts of this earthly life—viz. that it is so full ofonward-looking, prophetic aspect, so manifestly and tragically, andyet wonderfully and hopefully. Incomplete and fragmentary in itself,that there must be something beyond in order to explain, in order tovindicate, the life that now is. And that aspect of fragmentaryincompleteness is what I would insist upon for a moment now.

You sometimes see a row of houses, the end one of them has, in itsouter gable wall, bricks protruding here and there, and holes forchimney-pieces that are yet to be put in. And just as surely as thatexternal wall says that the row is half built, and there are some moretenements to be added to it, so surely does the life that we now livehere, in all its aspects almost, bear upon itself the stamp that it,too, is but initial and preparatory. You sometimes see, in thebookseller's catalogue, a book put down 'volume one; all that ispublished.' That is our present life—volume one, all that ispublished. Surely there is going to be a sequel, volume two. Volumetwo is due, and will come, and it will be the continuation of volumeone.

What is the meaning of the fact that of all the creatures on the faceof the earth only you and I, and our brethren and sisters, do not findin our environment enough for our powers? What is the meaning of thefact that, whilst 'foxes have holes' where they curl themselves up,and they are at rest, 'and the birds of the air have roosting-places,'where they tuck their heads beneath their wings and sleep, the 'son ofman' hath not where to lay his head, but looks round upon the earthand says, 'The earth, O Lord, is full of Thy mercy. I am a stranger onthe earth.' What is the meaning of it? Here is the meaning of it:'Surely there is a hereafter.'

What is the meaning of the fact that lodged in men's natures therelies that strange power of painting to themselves things that are notas though they were? So that minds and hearts go out wandering throughEternity, and having longings and possibilities which nothing beneaththe stars can satisfy, or can develop? The meaning of it is this:Surely there is a hereafter. The man that wrote the book ofEcclesiastes, in his sceptical moment ere he had attained to his lastconclusion, says, in a verse that is mistranslated in our rendering,'He hath set Eternity in their hearts, therefore the misery of man isgreat upon him.' That is true, because the root of all our unrest anddissatisfaction is that we need God, and God in Eternity, in orderthat we may be at rest. But whilst on the one hand 'therefore themisery of man is great upon him,' on the other hand, because Eternityis in our hearts, therefore there is the answer to the longings, theadequate sphere for the capacities in that great future, and in theGod that fills it. You go into the quarries left by reason of somegreat convulsion or disaster, by forgotten races, and you will findthere half excavated and rounded pillars still adhering to the matrixof the rock from which they were being hewn. Such unfinished abortionsare all human lives if, when Death drops its curtain, there is an end.

But, brethren, God does not so clumsily disproportion His creaturesand their place. God does not so cruelly put into men longings thathave no satisfaction, and desires which never can be filled, as thatthere should not be, beyond the gulf, the fair land of the hereafter.Every human life obviously has in it, up to the very end, the capacityfor progress. Every human life, up to the very end, has been educatedand trained, and that, surely, for something. There may be masters inworkshops who take apprentices, and teach them their trade during theyears that are needed, and then turn round and say, 'I have no workfor you, so you must go and look for it somewhere else.' That is nothow God does. When He has trained His apprentices He gives them workto do. Surely there is a hereafter,

But that is only part of what is involved in this thought. It is notonly a state subsequent to the present, but it is a state consequenton the present, and the outcome of it. The analogy of our earthly lifeavails here. To-day is the child of all the yesterdays, and theyesterdays and to-day are the parent of tomorrow. The past, our past,has made us what we are in the present, and what we are in the presentis making us what we shall be in the future. And when we pass out ofthis life we pass out, notwithstanding all changes, the same men as wewere. There may be much on the surface changed, there will be muchtaken away, thank God! dropped, necessarily, by the cessation of thecorporeal frame, and the connection into which it brings us withthings of sense. There will be much added, God only knows how much,but the core of the man will remain untouched. 'We all are changed bystill degrees,' and suddenly at last 'All but the basis of the evil.'And so we carry ourselves with us into that future life, and, 'what aman soweth, that shall he also reap.' Oh that they were wise, thatthey understood this, that they would consider their afterward!

II. Now, secondly, my text suggests the immortality of hope. 'Thineexpectation'—or rather, as I said, 'thy hope'—'shall not be cutoff.' This is a characteristic of that hereafter. What a wonderfulsaying that is which also occurs in this Book of Proverbs, 'Therighteous hath hope in his death.' Ah! we all know how swiftly, asyears increase, the things to hope for diminish, and how, as weapproach the end, less and less do our imaginations go out into thepossibilities of the sorrowing future. And when the end comes, ifthere is no afterwards, the dying man's hopes must necessarily diebefore he does. If when we pass into the darkness we are going into acave with no outlet at the other end, then there is no hope, and youmay write over it Dante's grim word: 'All hope abandon, ye who enterhere.' But let in that thought, 'surely there is an afterwards,' andthe enclosed cave becomes a rock-passage, in which one can see thearch of light at the far end of the tunnel; and as one passes throughthe gloom, the eye can travel on to the pale radiance beyond, andanticipate the ampler ether, the diviner air, 'the brighterconstellations burning, mellow moons and happy stars,' that await usthere. 'The righteous hath hope in his death.' 'Thine expectationshall not be cut off.'

But, further, that conviction of the afterward opens up for us acondition in which imagination is surpassed by the wondrous reality.Here, I suppose, nobody ever had all the satisfaction out of afulfilled hope that he expected. The fish is always a great deallarger and heavier when we see it in the water than when it is liftedout and scaled. And I suppose that, on the whole, perhaps as much painas pleasure comes from the hopes which are illusions far more oftenthan they are realities. They serve their purpose in whirling us alongthe path of life and in stimulating effort, but they do not do muchmore.

But there does come a time, if you believe that there is anafterwards, when all we desired and painted to ourselves of possiblegood for our craving spirits shall be felt to be but a pale reflex ofthe reality, like the light of some unrisen sun on the snowfields, andwe shall have to say 'the half was not told to us.'

And, further, if that afterwards is of the sort that we, through JesusChrist and His resurrection and glory, know to be, then all throughthe timeless eternity hope will be our guide. For after each freshinflux of blessedness and knowledge we shall have to say 'it doth notyet appear what we shall be.' 'Thus now abideth'—and not only now,but then and eternally—'these three—faith, hope, and charity,' andhope will never be cut off through all the stretch of that greatafterwards.

III. And now, finally, notice the bearing of all this on the dailypresent.

'Be thou in the fear of the Lord all the day long.' The conviction ofthe hereafter, and the blessed vision of hopes fulfilled, are not theonly reasons for that exhortation. A great deal of harm has been done,I am afraid, by well-meaning preachers who have drawn the bulk oftheir strongest arguments to persuade men to Christian faith from thethought of a future life. Why, if there were no future, it would bejust as wise, just as blessed, just as incumbent upon us to 'be in thefear of the Lord all the day long.' But seeing that there is thatfuture, and seeing that only in it will hope rise to fruition, and yetsubsist as longing, surely there comes to us a solemn appeal to 'be inthe fear of the Lord all the day long,' which being turned intoChristian language, is to live by habitual faith, in communion with,and love and obedience to, our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.

Surely, surely the very climax and bad eminence of folly is shuttingthe eyes to that future that we all have to face; and to live here, assome of you are doing, ignoring it and God, and cribbing, cabining,and confining all our thoughts within the narrow limits of the thingspresent and visible. For to live so, as our text enjoins, is the sureway, and the only way, to make these great hopes realities forourselves.

Brethren, that afterwards has two sides to it. The prophet Malachi, inalmost his last words, has a magnificent apocalypse of what he calls'the day of the Lord,' which he sets forth as having a double aspect.On the one hand, it is lurid as a furnace, and burns up the wickedroot and branch. I saw a forest fire this last autumn, and the greatpine-trees stood there for a moment pyramids of flame, and then camedown with a crash. So that hereafter will be to godless men. And onthe other side, that 'day of the Lord' in the prophet's vision wasradiant with the freshness and dew and beauty of morning, and the Sunof Righteousness arose with healing in his wings. Which of the two isit going to be to us? We have all to face it. We cannot alter thatfact, but we can settle how we shall face it. It will be to either thefulfilment of blessed hope, the 'appearance of the glory of the greatGod and our Saviour,' or else, as is said in this same Book ofProverbs: 'The hope of the godless' shall be like one of those waterplants, the papyrus or the flag, which, when the water is taken away,'withereth up before any other herb.' It is for us to determinewhether the afterwards that we must enter upon shall be the land inwhich our hopes shall blossom and fruit, and blossom again immortally,or whether we shall leave behind us, with all the rest that we wouldfain keep, the possibility of anticipating any good. 'Surely there isan afterwards,' and if thou wilt 'be in the fear of the Lord all theday long,' then for evermore 'thy hope shall not be cut off.'

THE PORTRAIT OF A DRUNKYARD

'Who hath woe? who hath sorrow? who hath contentions? who hathbabbling? who hath wounds without cause? who hath redness of eyes? 30.They that tarry long at the wine; they that go to seek mixed wine. 31.Look not thou upon the wine when it is red, when it giveth his colourin the cup, when it moveth itself aright. 32. At the last it bitethlike a serpent, and stingeth like an adder. 33. Thine eyes shallbehold strange women, and thine heart shall utter perverse things. 34.Yea, thou shalt be as he that lieth down in the midst of the sea, oras he that lieth upon the top of a mast. 35. They have stricken me,shalt thou say, and I was not sick; they have beaten me, and I felt itnot: when shall I awake! I will seek it yet again.'—PROVERBS xxiii.29-35.

This vivid picture of the effects of drunkenness leaves its sinfulnessand its wider consequences out of sight, and fixes attention on thesorry spectacle which a man makes of himself in body and mind when he'puts an enemy into his mouth to steal away his brains.' Disgust andridicule are both expressed. The writer would warn his 'son' byimpressing the ugliness and ludicrousness of drunkenness. The argumentis legitimate, though not the highest.

The vehement questions poured out on each other's heels in verse 29are hot with both loathing and grim laughter. The two words rendered'woe' and 'sorrow' are unmeaning exclamations, very like each other insound, and imitating the senseless noises of the drunkard. Theyexpress discomfort as a dog might express it. They are howls ratherthan words. That is one of the prerogatives won by drunkenness,—tocome down to the beasts' level, and to lose the power of articulatespeech. The quarrelsomeness which goes along with certain stages ofintoxication, and the unmeaning maudlin misery and whimpering intowhich it generally passes, are next coupled together.

Then come a pair of effects on the body. The tipsy man cannot takecare of himself, and reeling against obstacles, or falling over them,wounds himself, and does not know where the scratches and blood camefrom. 'Redness of eyes' is, perhaps, rather 'darkness,' meaningthereby dim sight, or possibly 'black eyes,' as we say,—a frequentaccompaniment of drunkenness, and corresponding to the wounds in theprevious clause. It is a hideous picture, and one that should beburned in on the imagination of every young man and woman. Theliquor-sodden, miserable wrecks that are found in thousands in ourgreat cities, of whom this is a picture, were, most of them, inSunday-schools in their day. The next generation of such poorcreatures are, many of them, in Sunday-schools now, and may be readingthis passage to-day.

The answer to these questions has a touch of irony in it. The peoplewho win as their possessions these six precious things have to sit uplate to earn them. What a noble cause in which to sacrifice sleep, andturn night into day! And they pride themselves on being connoisseursin the several vintages; they 'know a good glass of wine when they seeit.' What a noble field for investigation! What a worthy use of thefaculties of comparison and judgment! And how desirable the prizes wonby such trained taste and delicate discrimination!

In verses 31 and 32 weighty warning and dehortation follow, based inpart on the preceding picture. The writer thinks that the only way ofsure escape from the danger is to turn away even the eyes from thetemptation. He is not contented with saying 'taste not,' but he goesthe whole length of 'look not'; and that because the very sparkle andcolour may attract. 'When it is red' might perhaps better be rendered'when it reddens itself,' suggesting the play of colour, as if putforth by the wine itself. The word rendered in the Authorised Versionand Revised Version 'colour' is literally 'eye,' and probably meansthe beaded bubbles winking on the surface. 'Moveth itself aright'(Authorised Version) is not so near the meaning as 'goeth downsmoothly' (Revised Version). The whole paints the attractiveness tosense of the wine-cup in colour, effervescence, and taste.

And then comes in, with startling abruptness, the end of all thisfascination,—a serpent's bite and a basilisk's sting. The kind ofpoisonous snake meant in the last clause of verse 32 is doubtful, butcertainly is one much more formidable than an adder. The serpent'slithe gracefulness and painted skin hide a fatal poison; and so theattractive wine-cup is sure to ruin those who look on it. The evilconsequences are pursued in more detail in what follows.

But here we must note two points. The advice given is to keep entirelyaway from the temptation. 'Look not' is safe policy in regard of manyof the snares for young lives that abound in our modern society. It isnot at all needful to 'see life,' or to know the secrets ofwickedness, in order to be wise and good. 'Simple concerning evil' isa happier state than to have eaten the fruit of the tree of knowledge.Many a young man has been ruined, body and soul, by a prurientcuriosity to know what sort of life dissipated men and women led, orwhat sort of books they were against which he was warned, or what kindof a place a theatre was, and so on. Eyes are greedy, and there is avery quick telephone from them to the desires. 'The lust of the eye'soon fans the 'lust of the flesh' into a glow. There are plenty ofdepths of Satan gaping for young feet; and on the whole, it is saferand happier not to know them, and so not to have defiling memories,nor run the risk of falling into fatal sins. Whether the writer ofthis stern picture of a drunkard was a total abstainer or not, thespirit of his counsel not to 'look on the wine' is in full accord withthat practice. It is very clear that if a man is a total abstainer, hecan never be a drunkard. As much cannot be said of the moderate man.

Note too, how in all regions of life, the ultimate results of anyconduct are the important ones. Consequences are hard to calculate,and they do not afford a good guidance for action. But there are manylines of conduct of which the consequences are not hard to calculate,but absolutely certain. It is childish to take a course because of amoment's gratification at the beginning, to be followed by protracteddiscomfort afterwards. To live for present satisfaction of desires,and to shut one's eyes tight against known and assured results of anopposite sort, cannot be the part of a sensible man, to say nothing ofa religious one. So moralists have been preaching ever since there wassuch a thing as temptation in the world; and men have assented to thecommon sense of the teaching, and then have gone straight away anddone the exact opposite.

'What shall the end be?' ought to be the question at every beginning.If we would cultivate the habit of holding present satisfactions insuspense, and of giving no weight to present advantages until we sawright along the road to the end of the journey, there would be fewerfailures, and fewer weary, disenchanted old men and women, to lamentthat the harvest they had to reap and feed on was so bitter. There areother and higher reasons against any kind of fleshly indulgence thanthat at the last it bites like a serpent, and with a worse poison thanserpent's sting ever darted; but that is a reason, and young hearts,which are by their very youth blessedly unused to look forward, willbe all the happier to-day, and all the surer of to-morrow's good, ifthey will learn to say, 'And afterwards—what?'

The passage passes to a renewed description of the effects ofintoxication, in which the disgusting and the ludicrous aspects of itare both made prominent. Verse 33 seems to describe the excitedimagination of the drunkard, whose senses are no longer under hiscontrol, but play him tricks that make him a laughingstock to soberpeople. One might almost take the verse to be a description ofdelirium tremens. 'Strange things' are seen, and perverse things (thatis, unreal, or ridiculous) are stammered out. The writer has a keensense of the humiliation to a man of being thus the fool of his ownbewildered senses, and as keen a one of the absurd spectacle hepresents; and he warns his 'son' against coming down to such a depthof degradation.

It may be questioned whether the boasted quickening and brighteningeffects of alcohol are not always, in a less degree, that samebeguiling of sense and exciting of imagination which, in their extremeform, make a man such a pitiable and ridiculous sight. It is better tobe dull and see things as they are, than to be brilliant and seethings larger, brighter, or any way other than they are, because wesee them through a mist. Imagination set agoing by such stimulus, willnot work to as much purpose as if aroused by truth. God's world, seenby sober eyes, is better than rosy dreams of it. If we need to drawour inspiration from alcohol, we had better remain uninspired. If wedesire to know the naked truth of things, the less we have to do withstrong drink the better. Clear eyesight and self-command are in somedegree impaired by it always. The earlier stages are supposed to beexhilaration, increased brilliancy of fancy and imagination, expandedgood-fellowship, and so on. The latter stages are these in ourpassage, when strange things dance before cheated eyes, and strangewords speak themselves out of lips which their owner no longercontrols. Is that a condition to be sought after? If not, do not geton to the road that leads to it.

Verse 34 adds another disgusting and ridiculous trait. A man whoshould try to lie down and go to sleep in the heart of the sea or onthe masthead of a ship would be a manifest fool, and would not keeplife in him for long. One has seen drunken men laying themselves downto sleep in places as exposed and as ridiculous as these; and oneknows the look of the heavy lump of insensibility lying helpless onpublic roads, or on railway tracks, or anywhere where the fancy tookhim. The point of the verse seems to be the drunken man's utter lossof sense of fitness, and complete incapacity to take care of himself.He cannot estimate dangers. The very instinct of self-preservation hasforsaken him. There he lies, though as sure to be drowned as if hewere in the depth of the sea, though on as uncomfortable a bed as ifhe were rocking on a masthead, where he could not balance himself.

The torpor of verse 34 follows on the unnatural excitement of verse33, as, in fact, the bursts of uncontrolled energy in which the mansees and says strange things, are succeeded by a collapse. One momentraging in excitement caused by imaginary sights, the next huddledtogether in sleep like death,—what a sight the man is! The teacherhere would have his 'son' consider that he may come to that, if helooks on the wine-cup. 'Thou shalt be' so and so. It is veryimpolite, but very necessary, to press home the individual applicationof pictures like this, and to bid bright young men and women look atthe wretched creatures they may see hanging about liquor shops, andremember that they may come to be such as these.

Verse 35 finishes the picture. The tipsy man's soliloquy puts thecopestone on his degradation. He has been beaten, and never felt it.Apparently he is beginning to stir in his sleep, though not fullyawake; and the first thing he discovers when he begins to feel himselfover is that he has been beaten and wounded, and remembers nothingabout it. A degrading anaesthetic is drink. Better to bear all illsthan to drown them by drowning consciousness. There is no blow which aman cannot bear better if he holds fast by God's hand and keepshimself fully exposed to the stroke, than if he sought a cowardlyalleviation of it, softer the drunkard's fashion.

But the pains of his beating and the discomforts of his waking do notdeter the drunkard. 'When shall I awake?' He is not fully awake yet,so as to be able to get up and go for another drink. He is in thestage of feeling sorry for himself, and examining his bruises, but hewishes he were able to shake off the remaining drowsiness, that hemight 'seek yet again' for his curse. The tyranny of desire, whichwakes into full activity before the rest of the man does, and theenfeebled will, which, in spite of all bruises and discomforts, yieldsat once to the overmastering desire, make the tragedy of a drunkard'slife. There comes a point in lives of fleshly indulgence in which thecraving seems to escape from the control of the will altogether.Doctors tell us that the necessity for drink becomes a physicaldisease. Yes; but it is a disease manufactured by the patient, and heis responsible for getting himself into such a state.

This tragic picture proves that there were many originals of it in thedays when it was painted. Probably there are far more, in proportionto population, in our times. The warning it peals out was never moreneeded than now. Would that all preachers, parents, and children laidit to heart and took the advice not even to 'look upon the wine'!

THE CRIME OF NEGLIGENCE

'If thou forbear to deliver them that are drawn unto death, and thosethat are ready to be slain; 12. If thou sayest, Behold, we knew itnot; doth not he that pondereth the heart consider it? and he thatkeepeth thy soul, doth not he render to every man according to hisworks?'—PROVERBS xxiv. 11, 12.

What is called the missionary spirit is nothing else than theChristian church working in a particular direction. If a man has aconviction, the health of his own soul, his reverence for the truth hehas learnt to love, his necessary connection with other men, make it aduty, a necessity, and a joy to tell what he has heard, and to speakwhat he believes. On these common grounds rests the whole obligationof Christ's followers to speak the Gospel which they have received;only the obligation presses on them with greater force because of thehigher worth of the word and the deeper misery of men without it. Thetext contains nothing specially bearing on Christian missions, but itdeals with the fault which besets us all in our relations and in life:and the wholesome truths which it utters apply to our duties in regardto Christian missions because they apply to our duties in regard toevery misery within our reach. They speak of the murderous cruelty andblack sin of negligence to save any whom we can help from any sort ofmisery which threatens them. They appear to me to suggest fourthoughts which I would now deal with:—

I. The crime of negligence.

Not to use any power is a sin; to omit to do anything that we can dois a crime: to withhold a help that we can render is to participate inthe authorship of all the misery that we have failed to relieve. Hewho neglects to save a life, kills. There are more murderers thanthose who lift violent hands with malice aforethought against a hatedlife. Rulers or communities who leave people uncared for to die, whosuffer swarming millions to live where the air is poison and the lightis murky, and first the soul and then the body, are dwarfed and die;the incompetent men in high places, and the indolent ones in low,whose selfishness brings, and whose blundering blindness allows tocontinue, the conditions that are fatal to life—on these the guilt ofblood lies. Violence slays its thousands, but supine negligence slaysits tens of thousands.

And when we pass from these merely physical conditions to think of theworld and of the Church in the world, where shall we find wordsweighty and burning enough to tell what fatal cruelty lies in theunthinking negligence so characteristic of large portions of Christ'sprofessed followers? There is nothing which the ordinary type ofChristian, so called, more needs than to be aroused to a living senseof personal responsibility for all the unalleviated misery of theworld. For every one who has laid the sorrows of humanity on hisheart, and has felt them in any measure as his own, there are ahundred to whom these make no appeal and give no pang. Within ear-shotof our churches and chapels there are squalid aggregations of stuntedand festering manhood, of whom it is only too true that they are'drawn unto death' and 'ready to be slain,' and yet it would be anexaggeration to say that the bulk of our congregations cast even alanguid eye of compassion upon those, to say nothing of stretching outa hand to help. It needs to be dinned, far more than it is at present,into every professing Christian that each of us has an obligationwhich cannot be ignored or shuffled off, to acquaint ourselves withthe glaring facts that force themselves upon all thoughtful men, andthat the measure of our power is the measure of our obligation. Thequestion, Has the church done its best to deliver these? needs to besharpened to the point of 'Have I done my best?' And the vision ofmultitudes perishing in the slums of a great city needs to be expandedinto the vision of dim millions perishing in the wide world.

II. The excuse of negligence.

The shuffling plea, 'Behold we knew it not,' is a cowardly lie. Itadmits the responsibility to knowledge and pretends an ignorance whichit knows to be partly a false excuse, and in so far as it is true, tobe our own fault. We are bound to know, and the most ignorant of usdoes know, and cannot help knowing, enough to condemn our negligence.How many of us have ever tried to find out how the pariahs ofcivilisation live who live beside us? Our ignorance so far as it isreal is the result of a sinful indolence. And there is a sadder formof it in an ignorance which is the result of familiarity. We all knowhow custom dulls our impressions. It is well that it should be so, fora surgeon would be fit for little if he trembled and was shaken at thesight of the tumour he had to work to remove, as we should be; but hisfamiliarity with misery does not harden him, because he seeks toremove the suffering with which he has become familiar. But that samefamiliarity does harden and injure the whole nature of the onlookerwho does nothing to alleviate it. Then there is an ignorance of othersuffering which is the result of selfish absorption in one's ownconcerns. The man who is caring for himself only, and whose thoughtsand feelings all flow in the direction of his own success, may seespread before him the most poignant sorrows without feeling one throbof brotherly compassion and without even being aware of what his eyessee. So, in so far as the excuse 'we knew it not' is true, it is noexcuse, but an indictment. It lays bare the true reason of thecriminal negligence as being a yet more criminal callousness as to thewoe and loss in which such crowds of men whom we ought to recognise asbrethren are sunken.

III. The condemnation of negligence.

The great example of God is put forward in the text as the contrast toall this selfish negligence. Note the twofold description of Him givenhere, 'He that pondereth the heart,' and 'He that keepeth thy soul.'The former of these presents to us God's sedulous watching of thehearts of men, in contrast to our indolent and superficial looks; andin this divine attitude we find the awful condemnation of ourdisregard of our fellows. God 'takes pain,' so to speak, to see afterHis children. Are they not bound to look lovingly on each other? Godseeks to know them. Are they not bound to know one another? Loftydisregard of human suffering is not God's way. Is it ours? He'looks down from the height of His sanctuary to hear the crying of theprisoner.' Should not we stoop from our mole-hill to see it? God hasnot too many concerns on His hands to mark the obscurest sorrow and beready to help it. And shall we plead that we are too busy with pettypersonal concerns to take interest in helping the sorrows and fightingagainst the sins of the world?

No less eloquently does the other name which is here applied to Godrebuke our negligence. 'He preserveth thy soul.' By His divine careand communication of life, we live; and surely the soul thus preservedis thereby bound to be a minister of preservation to all that are'ready to be slain.' The strongest motive for seeking to save othersis that God has saved us. Thus this name for God touches closely uponthe great Christian thought, 'Christ has given Himself for me.' And inthat thought we find the true condemnation of a Christianity which hasnot caught from Him the enthusiasm for self-surrender, and the passionfor saving the outcast and forlorn. If to be a Christian is to imitateChrist, then the name has little application to those who see 'themthat are drawn to death,' and turn from them unconcerned andunconscious of responsibility.

IV. The judgment of negligence.

'Doth not He render to every man according to his works?' There issuch a judgment both in the present and in the future for Christianmen as for others. And not only what they do, but what theyinconsistently fail to do, comes into the category of their works, andinfluences their position. It does so in the present, for no man cancherish such a maimed Christian life as makes such negligence possiblewithout robbing himself of much that would tend to his own growth ingrace and likeness to Jesus Christ. The unfaithful servant is poorerby the pound hidden in the napkin which might all the while have beenlaid out at interest with the money-changers, which would haveincreased the income whilst the lord was absent. We rob ourselves ofblessed sympathies and of the still more blessed joy of service, andof the yet more blessed joy of successful effort, by our indolence andour negligence. Let us not forget that our works do follow us in thislife as in the life to come, and that it is here as well as hereafter,that he that goeth forth with a full basket and scatters the preciousseed with weeping, and yet with joy, shall doubtless come againbringing his sheaves with him. And if we stretch our view to take inthe life beyond, what gladness can match that of the man who shallenter there with some who will be his joy and crown of rejoicing inthat day, and of whom he shall be able to say, 'Behold I and thechildren whom Thou hast given me!'

I venture earnestly to appeal to all my hearers for more faithfuldischarge of this duty. I pray you to open your ears to hear, and youreyes to see, and your hearts to feel, and last of all, your hands tohelp, the miseries of the world. Solemn duties wait upon greatprivileges. It is an awful trust to have Christ and His gospelcommitted to our care. We get it because from One who lived no life ofluxurious ease, but felt all the woes of humanity which He redeemed,and forbore not to deliver us from death, though at the cost of Hisown. We get it for no life of silken indolence or selfish disregard ofthe sorrows of our brethren. If there is one tear we could have driedand didn't, or one wound we could have healed and didn't, that is asin; if we could have lightened the great heap of sorrow by one grainand didn't, that is a sin; and if there be one soul that perisheswhich we might have saved and didn't, the negligence is not merely theomission of a duty, but the doing of a deed which will be 'rendered tous according to our works.'

THE SLUGGARD'S GARDEN

'I went by the field of the slothful, and by the vineyard of the manvoid of understanding; 31. And, lo, it was all grown over with thorns,and nettles had covered the face thereof, and the stone wall thereofwas broken down.'—PROVERBS xxiv. 30, 31.

This picture of the sluggard's garden seems to be intended as aparable. No doubt its direct simple meaning is full of homely wisdomin full accord with the whole tone of the Book of Proverbs; but weshall scarcely do justice to this saying of the wise if we do not seein 'the ground grown over with thorns,' and 'the stone wall thereofbroken down,' an apologue of the condition of a soul whose owner hasneglected to cultivate and tend it.

I. Note first who the slothful man is.

The first plain meaning of the word is to be kept in view. The wholeBook of Proverbs brands laziness as the most prolific source ofpoverty. Honest toil is to it the law of life. It is never weary ofreiterating 'In the sweat of thy brow thou shalt eat bread'; and itcondemns all swift modes of getting riches without labour. No doubtthe primitive simplicity of life as set forth in this book seems farbehind the many ingenuities by which in our days the law is evaded.How much of Stock Exchange speculation and 'Company promoters'gambling would survive the application of the homely old law?

But it is truer in the inward life than in the outward that 'the handof the diligent maketh rich.' After all, the differences between menwho truly 'succeed' and the human failures, which are so frequent, aremore moral than intellectual. It has been said that genius is, afterall, 'the capacity for taking infinite pains'; and although that is anexaggerated statement, and an incomplete analysis, there is a greattruth in it, and it is the homely virtue of hard work which tells inthe long run, and without which the most brilliant talents effect butlittle. However gifted a man may be, he will be a failure if he hasnot learned the great secret of dogged persistence in often unwelcomedtoil. No character worth building up is built without continuouseffort. If a man does not labour to be good, he will surely becomebad. It is an old axiom that no man attains superlative wickedness allat once, and most certainly no man leaps to the height of the goodnesspossible to his nature by one spring. He has laboriously, and step bystep, to climb the hill. Progress in moral character is secured bylong-continued walking upwards, not by a jump.

We note that in our text 'the slothful' is paralleled by 'the man voidof understanding'; and the parallel suggests the stupidity in such aworld as this of letting ourselves develop according to whims, orinclinations, or passions; and also teaches that 'understanding' ismeant to be rigidly and continuously brought to bear on actions asdirector and restrainer. If the ship is not to be wrecked on the rocksor to founder at sea, Wisdom's hand must hold the helm. Diligencealone is not enough unless directed by 'understanding.'

II. What comes of sloth.

The description of the sluggard's garden brings into view two things,the abundant, because unchecked, growth of profitless weeds, and thebroken down stone wall. Both of these results are but too sadly andevidently true in regard to every life where rigid and continuouscontrol has not been exercised. It is a familiar experience known,alas! to too many of us, that evil things, of which the seeds are inus all, grow up unchecked if there be not constant supervision andself-command. If we do not carefully cultivate our little plot ofgarden ground, it will soon be overgrown by weeds. 'Ill weeds growapace' as the homely wisdom of common experience crystallises into asignificant proverb. And Jesus has taught the sadder truth that'thorns spring up and choke the word and it becometh unfruitful.' Inthe slothful man's soul evil will drive out good as surely as in thestruggle for existence the thorns and nettles will cover the face ofthe slothful man's garden. In country places we sometimes come acrossa ruined house with what was a garden round it, and here and therestill springs up a flower seeking for air and light in the midst of asmothering mass of weeds. They needed no kindly gardener's handto make them grow luxuriantly; can barely put out a pale petal unlesscared for and guarded.

But not only is there this unchecked growth, but 'the stone wallthereof was broken down.' The soul was unfenced. The solemn imperativeof duty ceases to restrain or to impel in proportion as a man yieldsslothfully to the baser impulses of his nature. Nothing is hinderedfrom going out of, nor for coming into, an unfenced soul, and he that'hath no rule over his own spirit,' but is like a 'city broken downwithout walls,' is certain sooner or later to let much go forth fromthat spirit that should have bean rigidly shut up, and to let many anenemy come in that will capture the city. It is not yet safe to letany of the fortifications fall into disrepair, and they can only bekept in their massive strength by continuous vigilance.

III. How sloth excuses itself.

Our text is followed at the distance of one verse with what seemed tobe the words of the sluggard in answer to the attempt to awake him:'Yet a little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the handsto sleep.' They are a quotation from an earlier chapter (ch. vi.)where 'His Laziness' is sent to 'consider the ways of the ant and bewise.' They are a drowsy petition which does not dispute the wisdom ofthe call to awake, but simply craves for a little more luxuriouslaziness from which he has unwillingly been aroused. And is it nottrue that we admit too late the force of the summons and yet shrinkfrom answering it? Do we not cheat ourselves and try to deceive Godwith the promise that we will set about amendment soon? This indolentsleeper asks only for a little: 'A little sleep, a littleslumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep.' Do we not all knowthat mood of mind which confesses our slothfulness and promises to bewide awake tomorrow but would fain bargain to be left undisturbedtoday? The call 'Awake thou that sleepest and arise from the dead!'rings from Christ's lips in the ears of every man, and he who answers,'I will presently, but must sleep a little longer,' may seem tohimself to have complied with the call, but has really refused it. The'little more' generally becomes much more; and the answer'presently' alas! too often becomes the answer 'never.' When a man isroused so as to be half awake, the only safety for him isimmediately to rise and clothe himself; the head that drowsilydroops back on the pillow after he has heard the morning's call, islikely to lie there long. Now, not 'by-and-by' is the time to shakeoff the bonds of sloth to cultivate our garden.

IV. How sloth ends.

The sleeper's slumber is dramatically represented as being awakened byarmed robbers who bring a grim awakening. 'Poverty' and 'want' breakin on his 'folding hands to sleep.' That is true as regards theoutward life, where indulgence in literal slothfulness brings want,and the whole drift of things executes on the sluggard the sentencethat if 'any man will not work, neither shall he eat.'

But the picture is more sadly and fatally true concerning the man whohas made his earthly life 'a little sleep' as concerns heavenlythings, and in spite of his beseechings, is roused to life andconsciousness of himself and of God by death. That man's 'poverty' inhis lack of all that is counted as wealth in the world of realities towhich he goes will indeed come as a robber. I would press upon you allthe plain question, Is this fatal slothfulness characteristic of me?It may co-exist with, and indeed is often the consequence of vehementenergy and continuous work to secure wealth, or wisdom, or materialgood; and the contrast between a man who is all eagerness in regard tothe things that don't matter, and all carelessness in regard to thethings that do, is the tragedy of life amongst us. My friend! ifyour garden has been suffered by you to be overgrown withweeds, be sure of this, that one day you will be awakened from theslumber that you would fain continue, and will find yourself in a lifewhere your 'poverty' will come as a robber and your want of all whichthere is counted treasure 'as an armed man.'

One word more. Christ's parable of the sower may be brought intorelationship with this parable. He sows the true seed in our hearts,but when sown, it, too, has to be cared for and tended. If it is sownin the sluggard's garden, it will bring forth few ears, and the tareswill choke the wheat.

AN UNWALLED CITY

'He that hath no rule over his own spirit is like a city that isbroken down, and without walls.'—PROVERBS xxv. 28.

The text gives us a picture of a state of society when an unwalledcity is no place for men to dwell in. In the Europe of today there arestill fortified places, but for the most part, battlements are turnedinto promenades; the gateways are gateless; the sweet flowers bloomingwhere armed feet used to tread; and men live securely without boltsand bars. But their spirits cannot yet afford to raise their defencesand fling themselves open to all comers.

We may see here three points: the city defenceless, or human nature asit is; the city defended, human nature as it may be in Christ; thecity needing no defence, human nature as it will be in heaven.

I. The city defenceless, or human nature as it is.

Here we are in a state of warfare which calls for constant shuttingout of enemies. Temptations are everywhere; our foes compass us likebees; evils of many sorts seduce. We can picture to ourselves somelittle garrison holding a lonely outpost against lurking savages readyto attack if ever the defenders slacken their vigilance for a moment.And that is the truer picture of human nature as it is than the one bywhich most men are deluded. Life is not a playground, but an arena ofgrim, earnest fighting. No man does right in his sleep; no man doesright without a struggle.

The need for continual vigilance and self-control comes from the verymake of our souls, for our nature is not a democracy, but a kingdom.In us all there are passions, desires, affections, all of which maylead to vice or to virtue: and all of which evidently call out fordirection, for cultivation, and often for repression. Then there arepeculiarities of individual character which need watching lest theybecome excessive and sinful. Further, there are qualities which needcareful cultivation and stimulus to bring them into due proportion. Weeach of us receive, as it were, an undeveloped self, and haveentrusted to us potential germs which come to nothing, or shoot upwith a luxuriance that stifles unless we exercise a controlling power.Besides all this, we all carry in us tendencies which are positively,and only, sinful. There would be no temptation if there were no such.

But the slightest inspection of our own selves clearly points out, notonly what in us needs to be controlled, but that in us which ismeant to control. The will is regal; conscience is meant togovern the will, and its voice is but the echo of God's law.

But, while all this is true, it is too sadly true that theaccomplishment of this ideal is impossible in our own strength. Ourown sad experience tells us that we cannot govern ourselves; and ourobservations of our brethren but too surely indicate that they too arethe prey of rebellious, anarchical powers within, and of temptations,against the rush of which they and we are as powerless as a voyager ina bark-canoe, caught in the fatal drift of Niagara. Conscience has avoice, but no hands; it can speak, but if its voice fails, it cannothold us back. From its chair it can bid the waves breaking at our feetroll back, as the Saxon king did, but their tossing surges are deaf.As helpless as the mud walls of some Indian hill-fort against modernartillery, is the defence, in one's own strength, of one's own selfa*gainst the world. We would gladly admit that the feeblest may do muchto 'keep himself unspotted from the world'; but we must, if werecognise facts, confess that the strongest cannot do all. No man canalone completely control his own nature; no man, unenlightened by God,has a clear, full view of duty, nor a clear view of himself. Alwaysthere is some unguarded place:

'Unless above himself he can
Erect himself, how mean a thing is man!'

but no man can so lift himself so as that self will not drag him down.The walls are broken down and the troops of the spoilers sack thecity.

II. The defended city, or human nature as it may be in Christ.

If our previous remarks are true, they give us material for judginghow far the counsels of some very popular moral teachers should befollowed. It is a very old advice, 'know thyself; and it is a verymodern one that

'Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control
Lead life to sovereign power.'

But if these counsels are taken absolutely and without reference toChrist and His work, they are 'counsels of despair,' demanding what wecannot give, and promising what they cannot bestow. When we knowChrist, we shall know ourselves; when He is the self of ourselves,then, and only then, shall we reverence and can we control the innerman. The city of Mansoul will then be defended when 'the peace of Godkeeps our hearts and minds in Jesus.'

He who submits himself to Christ is lord of himself as none else are.He has a light within which teaches him what is sin. He has a lovewithin which puts out the flame of temptation, as the sun does a coalfire. He has a motive to resist; he has power for resistance; he hashope in resisting. Only thus are the walls broken down rebuilded. Andas Christ builds our city on firmer foundations, He will appear in Hisglory, and will 'lay the windows in agates, and all thy borders inprecious stones.' The sure way to bring our ruined earth, 'withoutform and void,' into a cosmos of light and beauty, is to open ourspirit for the Spirit of God to 'brood upon the face of the waters.'Otherwise the attempts to rule over our own spirit will surely fail;but if we let Christ rule over our spirit, then it will rule itself.

But let us ever remember that he who thus submits to Christ, and cantruly say, 'I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me,' stillneeds defence. The strife does not thereby cease; the enemies stillswarm; sin is not removed. There will be war to the end, and war forever; but He will 'keep our heads in the day of battle'; and thoughoften we may be driven from the walls, and outposts may be lost, andgaping breaches made, yet the citadel shall be safe. If only we see toit that 'He is the glory in the midst of us,' He will be 'awall of fire round about us.' Our nature as it may be in Christ is awalled city as needing defence, and as possessing the defence which itneeds.

III. The city defenceless, and needing no defence; that is, humannature as it will be hereafter.

'The gates shall not be shut day nor night,' for 'every thing thatdefileth' is without. We know but little of that future, what we knowwill, surely, be theirs who here have been 'guarded by the power ofGod, through faith, unto salvation.' That salvation will bring with itthe end for the need of guardianship; though it leaves untouched theblessed dependence, we shall stand secure when it is impossible tofall. And that impossibility will be realised, partly, as we know,from change in surroundings, partly from the dropping away of flesh,partly from the entire harmony of our souls with the will of God. Ourignorance of that future is great, but our knowledge of it is greater,and our certainty of it is greatest of all.

This is what we may become. Dear friends! toil no longer at theendless, hopeless task of ruling those turbulent souls of yours; youcan never rebuild the walls already fallen. Give up toiling to attaincalmness, peace, self-command. Let Christ do all for you, and let Himin to dwell in you and be all to you. Builded on the true Rock, weshall stand stately and safe amid the din of war. He will watch overus and dwell in us, and we shall be as 'a city set on a hill,'impregnable, a virgin city. So may it be with each of us while strifeshall last, and hereafter we may quietly hope to be as a city withoutwalls, and needing none; for they that hated us shall be far away, forbetween us and them is 'a great gulf fixed,' so that they cannot crossit to disturb us any more; and we shall dwell in the city of God, ofwhich the name is Salem, the city of peace, whose King is Himself, itsDefender and its Rock, its Fortress and its high Tower.

THE WEIGHT OF SAND

'The sand is weighty.'—PROVERBS, xxvii. 3.

This Book of Proverbs has a very wholesome horror of the characterwhich it calls 'a fool'; meaning thereby, not so much intellectualfeebleness as moral and religious obliquity, which are the stupidestthings that a man can be guilty of. My text comes from a verypicturesque and vivid description, by way of comparison, of the fataleffects of such a man's passion. The proverb-maker compares two heavythings, stones and sand, and says that they are feathers in comparisonwith the immense lead-like weight of such a man's wrath.

Now I have nothing more to do with the immediate application of mytext. I want to make a parable out of it. What is lighter than a grainof sand? What is heavier than a bagful of it? As the grains fall oneby one, how easily they can be blown away! Let them gather, and theybury temples, and crush the solid masonry of pyramids. 'Sand isweighty.' The accumulation of light things is overwhelminglyponderous. Are there any such things in our lives? If there are, whatought we to do? So you get the point of view from which I want to lookat the words of our text.

I. The first suggestion that I make is that they remind us of thesupreme importance of trifles.

If trivial acts are unimportant, what signifies the life of man? Forninety-nine and a half per cent. of every man's life is made up ofthese light nothings; and unless there is potential greatness in them,and they are of importance, then life is all 'a tale told by an idiot,full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.' Small things make life;and if are small, then it is so too.

But remember, too, that the supreme importance of so-called trivialactions is seen in this, that there may be every bit as much of thenoblest things that belong to humanity condensed in, and brought tobear upon, the veriest trifle that a man can do, as on the greatestthings that he can perform. We are very poor judges of what is greatand what is little. We have a very vulgar estimate that noise andnotoriety and the securing of, not great but 'big,' results ofa material kind make the deeds by which they are secured, great ones.And we think that it is the quiet things, those that do not telloutside at all, that are the small ones.

Well! here is a picture for you. Half-a-dozen shabby, travel-stainedJews, sitting by a river-side upon the grass, talking to a handful ofwomen outside the gates of a great city. Years before that, there hadbeen what the world calls a great event, almost on the same ground—asanguinary fight, that had settled the emperorship of the thencivilised world, for a time. I want to know whether the firstpreaching of the Gospel in Europe by the Apostle Paul, or the battleof Philippi, was the great event, and which of the two was the littleone. I vote for the Jews on the grass, and let all the noise of thefight, though it reverberated through the world for a bit, die away,as 'a little dust that rises up, and is lightly laid again.' Not thenoisy events are the great ones; and as much true greatness may bemanifested in a poor woman stitching in her garret as in some of thethings that have rung through the world and excited all manner ofvulgar applause. Trifles may be, and often are, the great things inlife.

And then remember, too, how the most trivial actions have a strangeknack of all at once leading on to large results, beyond what couldhave been expected. A man shifts his seat in a railway carriage, fromsome passing whim, and five minutes afterwards there comes acollision, and the bench where he had been sitting is splintered up,and the place where he is sitting is untouched, and the accidentalmove has saved his life. According to the old story a boy, failing inapplying for a situation, stoops down in the courtyard and picks up apin, and the millionaire sees him through the window, and it makes hisfortune. We cannot tell what may come of anything; and since we do notknow the far end of our deeds, let us be quite sure that we have gotthe near end of them right. Whatever may be the issue, let us lookafter the motive, and then all will be right. Small seeds grow to begreat trees, and in this strange and inexplicable network of thingswhich men call circ*mstances, and Christians call Providence, the onlything certain is that 'great' and 'small' all but cease to be atenable, and certainly altogether cease to be an importantdistinction.

Then another thing which I would have you remember is, that it isthese trivial actions which, in their accumulated force, makecharacter. Men are not made by crises. The crises reveal what we havemade ourselves by the trifles. The way in which we do the littlethings forms the character according to which we shall act when thegreat things come. If the crew of a man-of-war were not exercised atboat and fire drill during many a calm day, when all was safe, whatwould become of them when tempests were raging, or flames breakingthrough the bulk-heads? It is no time to learn drill then. And we mustmake our characters by the way in which, day out and day in, we dolittle things, and find in them fields for the great virtues whichwill enable us to front the crises of our fate unblenching, and tomaster whatsoever difficulties come in our path. Geologists nowadaysdistrust, for the most part, theories which have to invoke greatforces in order to mould the face of a country. They tell us that thevalley, with its deep sides and wide opening to the sky, may have beenmade by the slow operation of a tiny brooklet that trickles now downat its base, and by erosion of the atmosphere. So we shapeourselves—and that is a great thing—by the way we do small things.

Therefore, I say to you, dear friends! think solemnly and reverentlyof this awful life of ours. Clear your minds of the notion thatanything is small which offers to you the alternative of being done ina right way or in a wrong; and recognise this as a fact—'sand isweighty,' trifles are of supreme importance.

II. Now, secondly, let me ask you to take this saying as suggestingthe overwhelming weight of small sins.

That is only an application in one direction of the general principlethat I have been trying to lay down; but it is one of such greatimportance that I wish to deal with it separately. And my point isthis, that the accumulated pressure upon a man of a multitude ofperfectly trivial faults and transgressions makes up a tremendousaggregate that weighs upon him with awful ponderousness.

Let me remind you, to begin with, that, properly speaking, the words'great' and 'small' should not be applied in reference to things aboutwhich 'right' or 'wrong' are the proper words to employ. Or, to put itinto plainer language, it is as absurd to talk about the 'size' of asin, as it is to take the superficial area of a picture as a test ofits greatness. The magnitude of a transgression does not depend on thegreatness of the act which transgresses—according to humanstandards—but on the intensity with which the sinful element isworking in it. For acts make crimes, but motives make sins. If youtake a bit of prussic acid, and bruise it down, every littlemicroscopic fragment will have the poisonous principle in it; and itis very irrelevant to ask whether it is as big as a mountain or smallas a grain of dust, it is poison all the same. So to talk aboutmagnitude in regard to sins, is rather to introduce a foreignconsideration. But still, recognising that there is a reality in thedistinction that people make between great sins and small ones, thoughit is a superficial distinction, and does not go down to the bottom ofthings, let us deal with it now.

I say, then, that small sins, by reason of their numerousness, have aterrible accumulative power. They are like the green flies on ourrose-bushes, or the microbes that our medical friends talk so muchabout nowadays. Like them, their power of mischief does not in theleast degree depend on their magnitude, and like them, they have atremendous capacity of reproduction. It would be easier to find a manthat had not done any one sin than to find out a man that had onlydone it once. And it would be easier to find a man that had done noevil than a man who had not been obliged to make the second edition ofhis sin an enlarged one. For this is the present Nemesis of all evil,that it requires repetition, partly to still conscience, partly tosatisfy excited tastes and desires; so that animal indulgence in drinkand the like is a type of what goes on in the inner life of every man,in so far as the second dose has to be stronger than the first inorder to produce an equivalent effect; and so on ad infinitum.

And then remember that all our evil doings, however insignificant theymay be, have a strange affinity with one another, so that you willfind that to go wrong in one direction almost inevitably leads to awhole series of consequential transgressions of one sort or another.You remember the old story about the soldier that was smuggled into afortress concealed in a hay cart, and opened the gates of a virgincitadel to his allies outside. Every evil thing, great or small, thatwe admit into our lives, still more into our hearts, is charged withthe same errand as he had:—' Set wide the door when you are inside,and let us all come in after you.' 'He taketh with him seven otherspirits worse than himself, and they dwell there.' 'None of them,'says one of the prophets, describing the doleful creatures that hauntthe ruins of a deserted city, 'shall by any means want its mate,' andthe satyrs of the islands and of the woods join together! and holdhigh carnival in the city. And so, brethren! our little transgressionsopen the door for great ones, and every sin makes us more accessibleto the assaults of every other.

So let me remind you how here, in these little unnumbered acts oftrivial transgression which scarcely produce any effect on conscienceor on memory, but make up so large a portion of so many of our lives,lies one of the most powerful instruments for making us what we are.If we indulge in slight acts of transgression be sure of this, that weshall pass from them to far greater ones. For one man that leaps orfalls all at once into sin which the world calls gross, there are athousand that slide into it. The storm only blows down the trees whosehearts have been eaten out and their roots loosened. And when you seea man having a reputation for wisdom and honour all at once comingcrash down and disclosing his baseness, be sure that he began withsmall deflections from the path of right. The evil works underground;and if we yield to little temptations, when great ones come we shallfall their victims.

Let me remind you, too, that there is another sense in which 'sand isweighty.' You may as well be crushed under a sandhill as under amountain of marble. It matters not which. The accumulated weight ofthe one is as great as that of the other. And I wish to lay upon theconsciences of all that are listening to me now this thought, that anoverwhelming weight of guilt results from the accumulation of littlesins. Dear friends! I do not desire to preach a gospel of fear, but Icannot help feeling that, very largely, in this day, the ministrationof the Christian Church is defective in that it does not givesufficient, though sad and sympathetic, prominence to the plainteaching of Christ and of the New Testament as to future retributionfor present sin. We shall 'every one of us give account of himself toGod'; and if the account is long enough it will foot up to an enormoussum, though each item may be only halfpence. The weight of a lifetimeof little sins will be enough to crush a man down with guilt andresponsibility when he stands before that Judge. That is all true, andyou know it, and I beseech you, take it to your hearts, 'Sand isweighty.' Little sins have to be accounted for, and may crush.

III. And now, lastly, let me ask you to consider one or two of theplain, practical issues of such thoughts as these.

And, first, I would say that these considerations set in a very clearlight the absolute necessity for all-round and ever-wakefulwatchfulness over ourselves. A man in the tropics does not say,'Mosquitoes are so small that it does not matter if two or three ofthem get inside my bed-curtains.' He takes care that not one is therebefore he lays himself down to sleep. There seems to be nothing moresad than the complacent, easy-going way in which men allow themselvesto keep their higher moral principles and their more rigidself-examination for the 'great' things, as they suppose, and let thelittle things often take care of themselves. What would you think ofthe captain of a steamer who in calm weather sailed by rule of thumb,only getting out his sextant when storms began to blow? And what abouta man that lets the myriad trivialities that make up a day pass in andout of his heart as they will, and never arrests any of them at thegate with a 'How camest thou in hither?' 'Look after the pence, andthe pounds will look after themselves.' Look after your trivial acts,and, take my word for it, the great ones will be as they ought to be.

Again, may not this thought somehow take down our easy-going andself-complacent estimate of ourselves? I have no doubt that there area number of people in my audience just now who have been more or lessconsciously saying to themselves whilst I have been going on, 'Whathave I to do with all this talk about sin, sin, sin? I am adecent kind of a man. I do all the duties of my daily life, and nobodycan say that the white of my eyes is black. I have done no greattransgressions. What is it all about? It has nothing to do with me.'

Well, my friend! it has this to do with you—that in your life thereare a whole host of things which only a very superficial estimatehinders you from recognising to be what they are—small deeds, butgreat sins. Is it a small thing to go, as some of you do go on fromyear to year, with your conduct and your thoughts and your loves andyour desires utterly unaffected by the fact that there is a God inheaven, and that Jesus Christ died for you? Is that a small thing? Itmanifests itself in a great many insignificant actions. That I grantyou; and you are a most respectable man, and you keep the commandmentsas well as you can. But 'the God in whose hand thy breath is, andwhose are all thy ways, hast thou not glorified.' I say that that isnot a small sin.

So, dear brethren! I beseech you judge yourselves by this standard. Icharge none of you with gross iniquities. I know nothing about that.But I do appeal to you all, as I do to myself, whether we must notrecognise the fact that an accumulated multitude of transgressionswhich are only superficially small, in their aggregate weigh upon uswith 'a weight heavy as frost, and deep almost as life.'

Last of all, this being the case, should we not all turn ourselveswith lowly hearts, with recognition of our transgressions,acknowledging that whether it be five hundred or fifty pence that weowe, we have nothing to pay, and betake ourselves to Him who alone candeliver us from the habit and power of these small accumulated faults,and who alone can lift the burden of guilt and responsibility from offour shoulders? If you irrigate the sand it becomes fruitful soil.Christ brings to us the river of the water of life; the inspiring, thequickening, the fructifying power of the new life that He bestows, andthe sand may become soil, and the wilderness blossom as the rose. Aheavy burden lies on our shoulders. Ah! yes! but 'Behold the Lamb ofGod that beareth away the sins of the world!' What was it that crushedHim down beneath the olives of Gethsemane? What was it that made Himcry, 'My God! Why hast Thou forsaken me?' I know no answer but one,for which the world's gratitude is all too small. 'The Lord hath laidon Him the iniquity of us all.'

'Sand is weighty,' but Christ has borne the burden, 'Cast thy burdenupon the Lord,' and it will drop from your emancipated shoulders, andthey will henceforth bear only the light burden of His love.

PORTRAIT OF A MATRON

'Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies. 11.The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shallhave no need of spoil. 12. She will do him good, and not evil, all thedays of her life. 13. She seeketh wool, and flax, and workethwillingly with her hands. 14. She is like the merchants' ships; shebringeth her food from afar. 15. She riseth also while it is yetnight, and giveth meat to her household, and a portion to her maidens.16. She considereth a field, and buyeth it: with the fruit of herhands she planteth a vineyard. 17. She girdeth her loins withstrength, and strengtheneth her arms. 18. She perceiveth that hermerchandise is good: her candle goeth not out by night. 19. She layethher hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff. 20. Shestretcheth out her hand to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her handsto the needy. 21. She is not afraid of the snow for her household: forall her household are clothed with scarlet. 22. She maketh herselfcoverings of tapestry; her clothing is silk and purple. 23. Herhusband is known in the gates, when he sitteth among the elders of theland. 24. She maketh fine linen, and selleth it; and deliverethgirdles unto the merchant. 25. Strength and honour are her clothing;and she shall rejoice in time to come. 26. She openeth her mouth withwisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness. 27. She looketh wellto the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness.28. Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, andhe praiseth her. 29. Many daughters have done virtuously, but thouexcellest them all. 30. Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but awoman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised. 31. Give her of thefruit of her hands; and let her own works praise her in thegates.'-PROVERBS xxxi 10-31.

This description of a good 'house-mother' attests the honourableposition of woman in Israel. It would have been impossible in Easterncountries, where she was regarded only as a plaything and a bettersort of slave. The picture is about equally far removed from old-worldand from modern ideas of her place. This 'virtuous woman' is neither adoll nor a graduate nor a public character. Her kingdom is the home.Her works 'praise her in the gates'; but it is her husband, and notshe, that 'sits' there among the elders. There is no sentiment orlight of wedded love in the picture. It is neither the ideal woman norwife that is painted, but the ideal head of a household, on whosemanagement, as much as on her husband's work, its well-being depends.

There is plenty of room for modern ideals by the side of this old one,but they are very incomplete without it. If we take the 'oracle whichhis mother taught' King Lemuel to include this picture, the artist isa woman, and her motive may be to sketch the sort of wife her sonshould choose. In any case, it is significant that the book whichbegan with the magnificent picture of Wisdom as a fair woman, and hungbeside it the ugly likeness of Folly, should end with this charmingportrait. It is an acrostic, and the fetters of alphabetic sequenceare not favourable to progress or continuity of thought.

But I venture to suggest a certain advance in the representation whichremoves the apparent disjointed character and needless repetition.There are, first, three verses forming a kind of prologue orintroduction (vers. 10-12). Then follows the picture proper, which isbrought into unity if we suppose that it describes the growingmaterial success of the diligent housekeeper, beginning with her ownwilling work, and gradually extending till she and her family are wellto do and among the magnates of her town (vers. 13-29), Then followtwo verses of epilogue or conclusion (vers. 30, 31).

The rendering 'virtuous' is unsatisfactory; for what is meant is notmoral excellence, either in the wider sense or in the narrower towhich, in reference to woman, that great word has been unfortunatelynarrowed. Our colloquialism 'a woman of faculty' would fairly conveythe idea, which is that of ability and general capacity. We have saidthat there was no light of wedded love in the picture. That is true ofthe main body of it; but no deeper, terser expression of the inmostblessedness of happy marriage was ever spoken than in the quiet words,'The heart of her husband trusteth in her,' with the repose ofsatisfaction, with the tranquillity of perfect assurance. The bonduniting husband and wife in a true marriage is not unlike that unitingus with God. Happy are they who by their trust in one another and thepeaceful joys which it brings are led to united trust in a yet deeperlove, mirrored to them in their own! True, the picture here is mainlythat of confidence that the wife is no squanderer of her husband'sgoods, but the sweet thought goes far beyond the immediateapplication. So with the other general feature in verse 12. A truewife is a fountain of good, and good only, all the days of herlife—ay, and beyond them too, when her remembrance shines like thecalm west after a cloudless sunset. This being, as it were, theoverture, next follows the main body of the piece.

It starts with a description of diligence in a comparatively humblesphere. Note that in verse 13 the woman is working alone. She toils'willingly,' or, as the literal rendering is, 'with the pleasure ofher hands.' There is no profit in unwilling work. Love makes toildelightful, and delighted toil is successful. Throughout its pages theBible reverences diligence. It is the condition of prosperity inmaterial and spiritual things. Vainly do men and women try to dodgethe law which makes the 'sweat of the brow' the indispensablerequisite for 'eating bread.' When commerce becomes speculation, whichis the polite name for gambling, which, again, is a synonym forstealing, it may yield much more dainty fare than bread to some for atime, but is sure to bring want sooner or later to individuals andcommunities. The foundation of this good woman's fortune was that sheworked with a will. There is no other foundation, either for fortuneor any other good, or for self-respect, or for progress in knowledgeor goodness or religion.

Then her horizon widened, and she saw a way of increasing her store.'She is like the merchants' ships; she bringeth her food from afar.'She looks afield, and sees opportunities for profitable exchange.Promptly she avails herself of these, and is at work while it is yetdark. She has a household now, and does not neglect their comfort, anymore than she does their employment. Their food and their tasks areboth set them in the early morning, and their mistress is up as soonas they. Her toil brings in wealth, and so verse 16 shows another stepin advance. 'She considereth a field, and buyeth it,' and has mademoney enough to stock it with vines, and so add a new source ofrevenue, and acquire a new position as owning land.

But prosperity does not make her relax her efforts so we are toldagain in verses 17-19 of her abridging the hours of sleep, and toilingwith wool and flax, which would be useless tautology if there were notsome new circ*mstances to account for the repetition. Encouraged bysuccess, she 'girdeth her loins with strength,' and, since she seesthat 'her merchandise is profitable,' she is the more induced tolabour. She still works with her own hands (ver. 19). But the handsthat are busy with distaff and spindle are also stretched out withalms in the open palm, and are extended in readiness to help theneedy. A woman made unfeeling by wealth is a monster. Prosperity oftenleads men to nigg*rdliness in charitable gifts; but if it does thesame for a woman, it is doubly cursed. Pity and charity have theirhome in women's hearts. If they are so busy holding the distaff or thepen that they become hard and insensible to the cry of misery, theyhave lost their glory.

Then follow a series of verses describing how increased wealth bringsgood to her household and herself. The advantages are of a purelymaterial sort, Her children are 'clothed with scarlet,' which was notonly the name of the dye, but of the stuff. Evidently thick materialonly was dyed of that hue, and so was fit for winter clothing, even ifthe weather was so severe for Palestine that snow fell. Her house wasfurnished with 'carpets,' or rather 'cushions' or 'pillows,' which aremore important pieces of furniture where people recline on divans thanwhere they sit on chairs. Her own costume is that of a rich woman.'Purple and fine linen' are tokens of wealth, and she is woman enoughto like to wear these. There is nothing unbecoming in assuming thestyle of living appropriate to one's position. Her children andherself thus share in the advantages of her industry; and the husband,who does not appear to have much business of his own, gets his sharein that he sits among the wealthy and honoured inhabitants of thetown, 'in the gates,' the chief place of meeting for business andgossip.

Verse 24 recurs to the subject of the woman's diligence. She has gotinto a 'shipping business,' making for the export trade with the'merchants'—literally, 'Canaanites' or Phoenicians, the great tradersof the East, from whom, no doubt, she got the 'purple' of her clothingin exchange for her manufacture. But she had a better dress than anywoven in looms or bought with goods. 'Strength and dignity' clotheher. 'She laugheth at the time to come'; that is, she is able to lookforward without dread of poverty, because she has realised a competentsum. Such looking forward may be like that of the rich man in theparable, a piece of presumption, but it may also be compatible withdevout recognition of God's providence. As in verse 20, beneficencewas coupled with diligence, so in verse 26 gentler qualities areblended with strength and dignity, and calm anticipation of thefuture.

A glimpse into 'the very pulse' of the woman's nature is given. A truewoman's strength is always gentle, and her dignity attractive andgracious. Prosperity has not turned her head. 'Wisdom,' theheaven-descended virgin, the deep music of whose call we heardsounding in the earlier chapters of Proverbs, dwells with this verypractical woman. The collocation points the lesson that heavenlyWisdom has a field for its display in the common duties of a busylife, does not dwell in hermitages, or cloisters, or studies, but mayguide and inspire a careful housekeeper in her task of wisely keepingher husband's goods together. The old legend of the descending deitywho took service as a goat-herd, is true of the heavenly Wisdom, whichwill come and live in kitchens and shops.

But the ideal woman has not only wisdom in act and word, but 'the lawof kindness is on her tongue.' Prosperity should not rob her of hergracious demeanour. Her words should be glowing with the calm flame oflove which stoops to lowly and undeserving objects. If wealth leads topresumptuous reckoning on the future, and because we have 'much goodslaid up for many years,' we see no other use of leisure than to eatand drink and be merry, we fatally mistake our happiness and our duty.But if gentle compassion and helpfulness are on our lips and in ourhearts and deeds, prosperity will be blessed.

Nor does this ideal woman relax in her diligence, though she hasprospered. Verse 27 seems very needless repetition of what has beenabundantly said already, unless we suppose, as before, newcirc*mstances to account for the reintroduction of a formercharacteristic. These are, as it seems to me, the increased wealth ofthe heroine, which might have led her to relax her watchfulness. Someslacking off might have been expected and excused; but at the end, asat the beginning, she looks after her household and is herselfdiligent. The picture refers only to outward things. But we mayremember that the same law applies to all, and that any good, eitherof worldly wealth or of intellectual, moral, or religious kind, isonly preserved by the continuous exercise of the same energies whichwon it at first.

Verses 28 and 29 give the eulogium pronounced by children and husband.The former 'rise up' as in reverence; the latter declares hersuperiority to all women, with the hyperbolical language natural tolove. Happy the man who, after long years of wedded life, can repeatthe estimate of his early love with the calm certitude born ofexperience!

The epilogue in verses 30 and 31 is not the continuation of thehusband's speech. It at once points the lesson from the whole picturefor King Lemuel, and unveils the root of the excellences described.Beauty is skin deep. Let young men look deeper than a fair face. Letyoung women seek for that beauty which does not fade. The fear of theLord lies at the bottom of all goodness that will last through thetear and wear of wedded life, and of all domestic diligence which isnot mere sordid selfishness or slavish toil. The narrow arena ofdomestic life affords a fit theatre for the exercise of the highestgifts and graces; and the woman who has made a home bright, and haswon and kept a husband's love and children's reverence, may let whowill grasp at the more conspicuous prizes which women are so eagerafter nowadays. She has chosen the better part, which shall not betaken from her. She shall receive 'of the fruit of her hands' both nowand hereafter, if the fear of the Lord has been the root from whichthat fruit has grown; and 'her works shall praise her in the gate,'though she sits quietly in her home. It is well when our deeds are thetrumpeters of our fame, and when to tell them is to praise us.

The whole passage is the hallowing of domestic life, a directory forwives and mothers, a beautiful ideal of how noble a thing a busymother's life may be, an exhibition to young men of what they shouldseek, and of young women of what they should aim at. It were well forthe next generation if the young women of this one were as solicitousto make cages as nets, to cultivate qualities which would keep love inthe home as to cultivate attractions which lure him to their feet.

ECCLESIASTES; OR, THE PREACHER

WHAT PASSES AND WHAT ABIDES

'One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh: but theearth abideth for ever.'—ECCLES. i. 4.

'And the world passeth away, and the lust thereof; but he that doeththe will of God abideth for ever.'—1 JOHN ii. 17.

A great river may run through more than one kingdom, and bear morethan one name, but its flow is unbroken. The river of time runscontinuously, taking no heed of dates and calendars. The importancethat we attach to the beginnings or endings of years and centuries isa sentimental illusion, but even an illusion that rouses us to aconsciousness of the stealthy gliding of the river may do us good, andwe need all the helps we can find to wise retrospect and soberanticipation. So we must let the season colour our thoughts, evenwhilst we feel that in yielding to that impulse we are imagining whathas no reality in the passing from the last day of one century to thefirst day of another.

I do not mean to discuss in this sermon either the old century or thenew in their wider social and other aspects. That has been doneabundantly. We shall best do our parts in making the days, and theyears, and the century what they should be, if we let the truths thatcome from these combined texts sink into and influence our individuallives. I have put them together, because they are so strikinglyantithetical, both true, and yet looking at the same facts fromopposite points of view, But the antithesis is not really so completeas it sounds at first hearing, because what the Preacher means by 'theearth' that 'abideth for ever' is not quite the same as what theApostle means by the 'world' that 'passes' and the 'generations' thatcome and go are not exactly the same as the men that 'abide for ever.'But still the antithesis is real and impressive. The bitter melancholyof the Preacher saw but the surface; the joyous faith of the Apostlewent a great deal deeper, and putting the two sets of thoughts andways of looking at man and his dwelling-place together, we get lessonsthat may well shape our individual lives.

So let me ask you to look, in the first place, at—

I. The sad and superficial teaching of the Preacher.

Now in reading this Book of Ecclesiastes—which I am afraid a greatmany people do not read at all—we have always to remember that thewild things and the bitter things which the Preacher is saying soabundantly through its course do not represent his ultimateconvictions, but thoughts that he took up in his progress from errorto truth. His first word is: 'All is vanity!' That conviction had beenset vibrating in his heart, as it is set vibrating in the heart ofevery man who does as he did, viz., seeks for solid good away fromGod. That is his starting-point. It is not true. All is not vanity,except to some blase cynic, made cynical by the failure ofhis voluptuousness, and to whom 'all things here are out of joint,'and everything looks yellow because his own biliary system is out oforder. That is the beginning of the book, and there are hosts of otherthings in the course of it as one-sided, as cynically bitter, andtherefore superficial. But the end of it is: 'Let us hear theconclusion of the whole matter; fear God, and keep His commandments:for this is the whole duty of man.' In his journey from the one pointto the other my text is the first step, 'One generation goeth, andanother cometh: the earth abideth for ever.'

He looks out upon humanity, and sees that in one aspect the world isfull of births, and in another full of deaths. Coffins and cradlesseem the main furniture, and he hears the tramp, tramp, tramp of thegenerations passing over a soil honeycombed with tombs, and thereforeringing hollow to their tread. All depends on the point of view. Thestrange history of humanity is like a piece of shot silk; hold it atone angle, and you see dark purple, hold at another, and you seebright golden tints. Look from one point of view, and it seems a longhistory of vanishing generations. Look to the rear of the procession,and it seems a buoyant spectacle of eager, young faces pressingforwards on the march, and of strong feet treading the new road. Butyet the total effect of that endless procession is to impress on theobserver the transiency of humanity. And that wholesome thought ismade more poignant still by the comparison which the writer here drawsbetween the fleeting generations and the abiding earth. Man is thelord of earth, and can mould it to his purpose, but it remains and hepasses. He is but a lodger in an old house that has had generations oftenants, each of whom has said for a while, 'It is mine'; and they allhave drifted away, and the house stands. The Alps, over which Hannibalstormed, over which the Goths poured down on the fertile plains ofLombardy, through whose passes mediaeval emperors led their forces,over whose summits Napoleon brought his men, through whose bowels thisgeneration has burrowed its tunnels, stand the same, and smile thesame amid their snows, at the transient creatures that have crawledacross them. The primrose on the rock blooms in the same place yearafter year, and nature and it are faithful to their covenant, but thepoet's eyes that fell upon them are sealed with dust. Generations havegone, the transient flower remains. 'One generation cometh and anothergoeth,' and the tragedy is made more tragical because the stage standsunaltered, and 'the earth abides for ever.' That is what sense has tosay—'the foolish senses'—and that is all that sense has to say. Isit all that can be said? If it is, then the Preacher's bitterconclusion is true, and 'all is vanity and chasing after wind.'

He immediately proceeds to draw from this undeniable, but, as Imaintain, partial fact, the broad conclusion which cannot be rebutted,if you accept what he has said in my text as being the sufficient andcomplete account of man and his dwelling-place. If, says he, it istrue that one generation comes and another goes, and the earth abidesfor ever, and if that is all that has to be said, then all things arefull of labour. There is immense activity, and there is no progress;it is all rotary motion round and round and round, and the sameobjects reappear duly and punctually as the wheel revolves, and lifeis futile. Yes; so it is unless there is something more to be said,and the life that is thus futile is also, as it seems to me,inexplicable if you believe in God at all. If man, being what he is,is wholly subject to that law of mutation and decay, then not only ishe made 'a little lower than the angels for the suffering of death,'but he is also inferior to that persistent, old mother-earth fromwhose bosom he has come. If all that you have to say of him is, 'Dustthou art, and unto dust shalt thou return,' then life is futile, andGod is not vindicated for having produced it.

And there is another consequence that follows, if this is all that wehave got to say. If the cynical wisdom of Ecclesiastes is the ultimateword, then I do not assert that morality is destroyed, because rightand wrong are not dependent either upon the belief in a God, or on thebelief in immortality. But I do say that to declare that the fleeting,transient life of earth is all does strike a staggering blow at allnoble ethics and paralyses a great deal of the highest forms of humanactivity, and that, as has historically been the case, so on the largescale, and, speaking generally, it will be the case, that the manwhose creed is only 'To-morrow we die' will very speedily draw theconclusion, 'Let us eat and drink,' and sensuous delights and thelower side of his nature will become dominant.

So, then, the Preacher had not got at the bottom of all things, eitherin his initial conviction that all was vanity, or in that which helaid down as the first step towards establishing that, that man passesand the earth abides. There is more to be said; the sad, superficialteaching of the Preacher needs to be supplemented.

Now turn for a moment to what does supplement it.

II. The joyous and profounder teaching of the Apostle.

The cynic never sees the depths; that is reserved for the mystical eyeof the lover. So John says: 'No, no; that is not all. Here is the truestate of affairs: "The world passeth away, and the lust thereof: buthe that doeth the will of God abideth for ever."' The doctrine of thepassing generations and the abiding earth is fronted squarely in mysecond text by the not contradictory, but complementary doctrine ofthe passing world and the abiding men. I do not suppose that John hadthis verse of Ecclesiastes in his mind, for the word 'abide' is one ofhis favourite expressions, and is always cropping up. But even thoughhe had not, we find in his utterance the necessary correction to thefirst text. As I have said, and now need not do more than repeat in asentence, the antithesis is not so complete as it seems. John's'world' is not the Preacher's 'earth,' but he means thereby, as we allknow, the aggregate of created things, including men, considered apartfrom God, and in so far as it includes voluntary agents set inopposition to God and the will of God. He means the earth rent awayfrom God, and turned to be what it was not meant to be, a minister ofevil, and he means men, in so far as they have parted themselves fromGod and make up an alien, if not a positively antagonistic company.

Perhaps he was referring, in the words of our text, to the break-up ofthe existing order of things which he discerned as impending andalready begun to take effect in consequence of the coming of JesusChrist, the shining of the true Light. For you may remember that in aprevious part of the epistle he uses precisely the same expression,with a significant variation. Here, in our text, he says, 'The worldpasseth away'; there he says, 'The darkness has passed and the truelight now shineth.' He sees a process installed and going on, in whichthe whole solid-seeming fabric of a godless society is being dissolvedand melted away. And says he, in the midst of all this change there isone who stands unchanged, the man that does God's will.

But just for a moment we may take the lower point of view, and seehere a flat contradiction of the Preacher. He said, 'Men go, and theworld abides.' 'No,' says John; 'your own psalmists might have taughtyou better: "As a vesture shalt Thou change them, and they shall bechanged."' The world, the earth, which seems so solid and permanent,is all the while in perpetual flux, as our later science has taughtus, in a sense of which neither Preacher nor Apostle could dream. Forjust as from the beginning forces were at work which out of thefire-mist shaped sun and planets, so the same forces, continuing inoperation, are tending towards the end of the system which they began;and a contracting sun and a diminished light and a lowered temperatureand the narrower orbits in which the planets shall revolve, prophesythat 'the elements shall melt with fervent heat,' and that all thingswhich have been made must one day cease to be. Nature is the truePenelope's web, ever being woven and ever being unravelled, and in themost purely physical and scientific sense the world is passing away.But then, because you and I belong, in a segment of our being, to thatwhich thus is passing away, we come under the same laws, and all thathas been born must die. So the generations come, and in their verycoming bear the prophecy of their going. But, on the other hand, thereis an inner nucleus of our being, of which the material is but thetransient envelope and periphery, which holds nought of the material,but of the spiritual, and that 'abides for ever.'

But let us lift the thought rather into the region of the trueantithesis which John was contemplating, which is not so much thecrumbling away of the material, and the endurance of the spiritual, asthe essential transiency of everything that is antagonism to the willof God, and the essential eternity of everything which is inconformity with that will. And so, says he, 'The world is passing, andthe lust thereof.' The desires that grasp it perish with it, orperhaps, more truly still, the object of the desire perishes, and withit the possibility of their gratification ceases, but the desireitself remains. But what of the man whose life has been devoted to thethings seen and temporal, when he finds himself in a condition ofbeing where none of these have accompanied him? Nothing to slake hislusts, if he be a sensualist. No money-bags, ledgers, or cheque-booksif he be a plutocrat or a capitalist or a miser. No books ordictionaries if he be a mere student. Nothing of his vocations if helived for 'the world.' But yet the appetite is abiding. Will that notbe a thirst that cannot be slaked?

'The world is passing and the lust thereof,' and all that isantagonistic to God, or separated from Him, is essentially as 'avapour that appeareth for a little time, and then vanishes away,'whereas the man who does the will of God abideth for ever, in that heis steadfast in the midst of change.

'His hand the good man fastens on the skies,
And lets earth roll, nor heeds its idle whirl.'

He shall 'abide for ever,' in the sense that his work is perpetual. Inone very deep and solemn sense, nothing human ever dies, but inanother all that is not running in the same direction as, and bornealong by the impulse of, the will of God, is destined to beneutralised and brought to nothing at last. There may be a row offigures as long as to reach from here to the fixed stars, but if thereis not in front of them the significant digit, which comes fromobedience to the will of God, all is but a string of ciphers, andtheir net result is nothing. And he 'abideth for ever,' in the mostblessed and profound sense, in that through his faith, which haskindled his love, and his love which has set in motion his practicalobedience, he becomes participant of the very eternity of the livingGod. 'This is eternal life,' not merely to know, but 'to do the will'of our Father. Nothing else will last, and nothing else will prosper,any more than a bit of driftwood can stem Niagara. Unite yourself withthe will of God, and you abide.

And now let me, as briefly as I can, throw together—

III. The plain, practical lessons that come from both these texts.

May I say, without seeming to be morbid or unpractical, one lesson isthat we should cultivate a sense of the transiency of this outwardlife? One of our old authors says somewhere, that it is wholesome tosmell at a piece of turf from a churchyard. I know that much harm hasbeen done by representing Christianity as mainly a scheme which is tosecure man a peaceful death, and that many morbid forms of piety havegiven far too large a place to the contemplation of skulls andcross-bones. But for all that, the remembrance of death present in ourlives will often lay a cool hand upon a throbbing brow; and, like abit of ice used by a skilful physician, will bring down thetemperature, and stay the too tumultuous beating of the heart. 'Soteach us to number our days that we may apply our hearts to wisdom.'It will minister energy, and lead us to say, like our Lord, 'We mustwork the works of Him that sent Me while it is day; the night cometh.'

Let me say again—a very plain, practical lesson is to dig deep downfor our foundations below the rubbish that has accumulated. If a manwishes to build a house in Rome or in Jerusalem he has to go fifty orsixty feet down, through potsherds and broken tiles and trituratedmarbles, and the dust of ancient palaces and temples. We have to drivea shaft clear down through all the superficial strata, and to lay thefirst stones on the Rock of Ages. Do not build on that which quiversand shakes beneath you. Do not try to make your life's path across theweeds, or as they call it in Egypt, the 'sudd,' that floats on thesurface of the Nile, compacted for many a mile, and yet only a film onthe surface of the river, to be swept away some day. Build on God.

And the last lesson is, let us see to it that our wills are in harmonywith His, and the work of our hands His work. We can do that will inall the secularities of our daily life. The difference between thework that shrivels up and disappears and the work that abides is notso much in its external character, or in the materials on which it isexpended, as in the motive from which it comes. So that, if I might sosay, if two women are sitting at the same millstone face to face, andturning round the same handle, one of them for one half thecircumference, and the other for the other, and grinding out the samecorn, the one's work may be 'gold, silver, precious stones,' whichshall abide the trying fire; and the other's may be 'wood, hay,stubble,' which shall be burnt up. 'He that doeth the will of Godabideth for ever.'

So let us set ourselves, dear friends! to our several tasks for thiscoming year. Never mind about the century, it will take care ofitself. Do your little work in your little corner, and be sure ofthis, that amidst changes you will stand unchanged, amidst tumults youmay stand calm, in death you will be entering on a fuller life, andthat what to others is the end will be to you the beginning. 'If anyman's work abide, he shall receive a reward,' and he himself shallabide with the abiding God.

The bitter cynic said half the truth when he said, 'One generationgoeth, and another cometh; but the earth abides.' The mystic Apostlesaw the truth steadily, and saw it whole when he said, 'Lo! the worldpasseth away, and the lust thereof; but he that doeth the will of Godabideth for ever.'

THE PAST AND THE FUTURE

'The thing that hath been, it is that which shall he; and that whichis done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing underthe sun.'—ECCLES. i. 9.

'That he no longer should live the rest of his time in the flesh tothe lusts of men, but to the will of God. 3. For the time past of ourlife may suffice us to have wrought the will of the Gentiles.'—lPETER iv. 2, 3.

If you will look at these two passages carefully you will, I think,see that they imply two different, and in some respects contradictory,thoughts about the future in its relation to the past. The first ofthem is the somewhat exaggerated utterance of a dreary and depressingphilosophy, which tells us that, as in the outer world, so in regardto man's life, there is an enormous activity and no advance, that itis all moving round like the scenes in some circular panorama, thatafter it has gone the round back it comes again, that it is the samething over and over again, that life is a treadmill, so to speak, withan immense deal of working of muscles; but it all comes to nothingover again. 'The rivers run into the sea and the sea is not full, andwhere the rivers come from they go back to; and the wind goes to thesouth, turns to the north, and whirls about continually. Everything isfull of labour, and it has all been done before, and there is nothingfresh; everything is flat, stale, and unprofitable.'

Well that is not true altogether, but though it be not truealtogether—though it be an exaggeration, and though the inferencethat is built upon it is not altogether satisfactory and profound—yetthe thought itself is one that has a great deal in it that is true andimportant, and may be very helpful and profitable to us now; for thereis a religious way, as well as an irreligious way, of saying there isnothing new under the sun. It may be the utterance of a material,blase, unprofitable, spurious philosophy, or it may be theutterance of the profoundest, and the happiest, and the most peacefulreligious trust and confidence.

The other passage implies the opposite notion of man's life, thathowever much in my future may be just the same as what my past hasbeen, there is a region in which it is quite possible to maketo-morrow unlike to-day, and so to resolve and so to work as that 'thetime past of our lives' may be different from 'the rest of our time inthe flesh'; that a great revolution may come upon a man, and thatwhilst the outward life is continuous and the same, and the tasks tobe done are the same, and the joys the same, there may be such aprofound and radical difference in the spirit and motive in which theyare done as that the thing that has been is not that whichshall be, and for us there may be a new thing under the sun.

And so just now I think we may take these two passages in theirconnection—their opposition, and in their parallelism—as suggestingto us two very helpful, mutually completing thoughts about the unknownfuture that stretches before us—first, the substantial identity ofthe future with the past; second, the possible total unlikeness of thefuture and the past.

First then, let us try to get the impress from the first phrase ofthat conviction, so far as it is true, as to the sameness of thethings that are going to be with the things that have been. Theimmediate connection in which the words are spoken is in regard,mainly, to the outer world, the physical universe, and onlysecondarily and subordinately in regard to man's life. And I need notremind you how that thought of the absolute sameness and continuousrepetition of the past and the future has gained by the advance ofphysical science in modern times. It seems to be contradicted no doubtby the continual emergence of new things here and there, but they tellus that the novelty is only a matter of arrangement, that the atomshave never had an addition to them since the beginning of things, thatall stand just as they were from the very commencement and foundationof all things, and that all that seems new is only a new arrangement,so that the thing which has been is that which shall be. And thenthere comes up the other thought, upon which I need not dwell for amoment, that the present condition of things round about us is theresult of the uniform forces that have been working straight on fromthe very beginning. And yet, whilst all that is quite true, we come toour own human lives, and we find there the true application of suchwords as these: to-morrow is to be like yesterday. There is one veryimportant sense in which the opposite of that is true, and noto-morrow can ever be like any yesterday for however much the eventsmay be the same, we are so different that, in regard even to the mostwell trodden and beaten of our paths of daily life, we may all say,'We have not passed this way before!' We cannot bring back that whichis gone—that which is gone is gone for good or evil, irrevocable asthe snow or the perfume of last year's flowers. I dare say there aremany here before me who are saying to themselves, 'No! life can neveragain be what life has been for me, and the only thing that I am quitesure about in regard to to-morrow is that it is utterly impossiblethat it should ever be as yesterday was!' Notwithstanding, the word ofmy text is a true word, the thing that hath been is that which shallbe. I need not dwell on the grounds upon which the certainty rests,such, for instance, as that the powers which shape to-morrow are thesame as the powers which shaped yesterday; that you and I, in ournature, are the same, and that the mighty Hand up there that ismoulding it is the same; that every to-morrow is the child of all theyesterdays; that the same general impression will pervade the futureas has pervaded the past. Though events may be different the generalstamp and characteristics of them will be the same, and when we passinto a new region of human life we shall find that we are not walkingin a place where no footprints have been before us, but that all aboutus the ground is trodden down smooth.

'That which hath been is that which shall be.' Thus, while this isproximately true in regard to the future, let me just for a moment ortwo give you one or two of the plain, simple pieces of well-wornwisdom which are built upon such a thought. And first of all let megive you this, 'Well, then, let us learn to tone down our expectationsof what may be coming to us.' Especially I speak now to the youngerportion of my congregation, to whom life is beginning, and to whom itis naturally tinted with roseate hue, and who have a great dealstretching before them which is new to them, new duties, newrelationships, new joys. But whilst that is especially true for themit is true for all. It is a strange illusion under which we all liveto the very end of our lives, unless by reflection and effort webecome masters of it and see things in the plain daylight of commonsense, that the future is going somehow or other to be brighter,better, fuller of resources, fuller of blessings, freer from sorrowthan the past has been. We turn over each new leaf that marks a newyear, and we cannot help thinking: 'Well! perhaps hidden away in itsstorehouses there may be something brighter and better in store forme.' It is well, perhaps, that we should have that thought, for if wewere not so drawn on, even though it be by an illusion, I do not knowthat we should be able to live on as we do. But don't let us forget inthe hours of quiet that there is no reason at all to expect that anyof these arbitrary, and conventional, and unreal distinctions ofcalendars and dates make any difference in that uniform strand of ourlife which just runs the same, which is reeled off the great drum ofthe future and on to the great drum of the past, and that is all spunout of one fibre and is one gauge, and one sort of stuff from thebeginning to the end. And so let us be contented where we are, and notfancy that when I get that thing that I am looking forward to, when Iget into that position I am waiting for, things will be much differentfrom what they are to-day. Life is all one piece, the future and thepast, the pattern runs right through from the beginning to the end,and the stuff is the same stuff. So don't you be too enthusiastic, youpeople who have an eager ambition for social and politicaladvancement. Things will be very much as they are used to be, withperhaps some slow, gradual, infinitesimal approximation to a higherideal and a nobler standard; but there will be no jump, no breaks, nospasmodic advance. We must be contented to accept the law, that thereis no new thing under the sun. As you would lay a piece of healing iceupon the heated forehead, lay that law upon the feverish anticipationssome of you have in regard to the future, and let the heart beat morequietly, and with the more contentment for the recognition of thatlaw.

And then I may say, at the same time, though I won't dwell upon it formore than a moment, let us take the same thought to teach us tomoderate our fears. Don't be afraid that anything whatever may comethat will destroy the substantial likeness between the past and thefuture; and so leave all those jarring and terrifying thoughts thatmingle with all our anticipations of the time to come, leave them veryquietly on one side and say, 'Thou hast been my Help leave me not,neither forsake me, O God of my salvation.'

And then there are one or two other points I mean to touch upon, andlet me just name them. Do not let us so exaggerate that thought of thesubstantial sameness of the future and the past as to flatten life andmake it dreary and profitless and insignificant. Let us rather feel,as I shall have to say presently, that whilst the framework remainsthe same, whilst the general characteristics will not be muchdifferent, there is room within that uniformity for all possible playof variety and interest, and earnestness and enthusiasm, and hope.They make the worst possible use of this fixity and steadfastness ofthings who say, as the dreary man at the beginning of the Book ofEcclesiastes is represented as saying, that because things are thesame as they will and have been, all is vanity. It is not true. Don'tlet the uniformity of life flatten your interest in the great miracleof every fresh day, with its fresh continuation of ancient blessingsand the steadfast mercies of our Lord.

And let us hold firmly to the far deeper truth that the future will bethe same as the past, because God is the same. God's yesterday isGod's to-morrow—the same love, the same resources, the same wisdom,the same power, the same sustaining Hand, the same encompassingPresence. 'A thousand years are as one day, and one day as a thousandyears'; and when we say there is no new thing under the sun let usfeel that the deepest way of expressing that thought is, 'Thou art thesame, and Thy steadfast purposes know no alteration.'

Turn to the other side of the thought suggested by the second passageof the text. It speaks to us, as I have said, of the possible entireunlikeness between the future and the past. To-morrow is the child ofyesterday—granted; 'whatsoever a man soweth, that shall hereap'—certainly; there is a persistent uniformity of nature, and thesame causes working make the future much of the same general structureas all the past has been—be it so; and yet within the limits of thatidentity there may be breathed into the self-sameness of to-morrowsuch an entire difference of disposition, temper, motive, direction oflife, that my whole life may be revolutionised, my whole being, I wasgoing to say, cleft in twain, my old life buried and forgotten, and anew life may emerge from chaos and from the dead. Of course, thequestion, Is such an alteration possible? rises up very solemnly tomen, to most of them, for I suppose we all of us know what it is tohave been beaten time after time in the attempt to shake off thedominion of some habit or evil, and to alter the bearing and thedirection of the whole life, and we have to say, 'It is no good tryingany longer my life must run on in the channel which I have carved forit; I have made my bed and I must lie on it; I cannot get rid of thesethings.' And, no doubt, in certain aspects, change is impossible.There are certain limitations of natural disposition which I never canovercome. For instance, if I have no musical ear I cannot turn myselfinto a musician. If I have no mathematical faculty it is no goodporing over Euclid, for, with the best intentions in the world, Ishall make nothing of it. We must work within the limits of ournatural disposition, and cut our coat according to our cloth. In thatrespect to-morrow will be as yesterday, and there cannot be anychange. And it is quite true that character, which is the greatprecipitate from the waters of conduct, gets rocky, that habits becomepersistent, and man's will gets feeble by long indulgence in anycourse of life. But for all that, admitting to the full all that, I amhere now to say to every man and woman in this place, 'Friend, you maymake your life from this moment so unlike the blotted, stained,faultful, imperfect, sinful past that no words other than the words ofthe New Testament will be large enough to express the fact. "If anyman be in Christ he is a new creature, old things are passed away."'For we all know how into any life the coming of some large convictionnot believed in or perceived before, may alter the whole bias,current, and direction of it; how into any life the coming of a newlove not cherished and entertained before, may ennoble and transfigurethe whole of its nature; how into any life the coming of new motives,not yielded to and recognised before, may make all things new anddifferent. These three plain principles, the power of conviction, thepower of affection, the power of motive, are broad enough to admit ofbuilding upon them this great and helpful and hopeful promise to usall—'The time past of our life may suffice us to have wrought thewill of the Gentiles,' that 'henceforth we may live the rest of ourtime in the flesh according to the will of God.'

To you who have been living in the past with little regard to thesupreme powers and principles of Christ's love and God's Gospel inHim, I bring the offer of a radical revolution; and I tell you that ifyou like you may this day begin a life which, though it shall be likeyesterday in outward things, in the continuity of some habits, in thecontinuance of character, shall be all under the influence of anentirely new, and innovating, and renovating power. I ask you whetheryou don't think that you have had enough, to use the language of mytext, in the part of obeying the will of the flesh; and I beseech youthat you will let these great principles, these grand convictionswhich cluster round and explain the cross of Jesus Christ, influenceyour mind, character, habits, desires, thoughts, actions; that youwill yield yourself to the new power of the Spirit of life in Christ,which is granted to us if only we submit ourselves to it and humblydesire it. And to you who have in some measure lived by this mightyinfluence I come with the message for you and for myself that the timeto come may, if we will, be filled very much fuller than it is;'To-morrow may be as this day, and much more abundant.' I believe in apatient, reflecting, abundant examination of the past. The old proverbsays that 'Every man by the time he is forty is either a fool or aphysician'; and any man or woman by the time they get ten years shortof that age, ought to know where they are weakest, and ought to beable to guard against the weak places in their character. I do notbelieve in self-examination for the purpose of finding in a man's owncharacter reasons for answering the question, 'Am I a Christian?' ButI do believe that no people will avail themselves fully of the powerGod has given them for making the future brighter and better than thepast who have not a very clear, accurate, comprehensive, andpenetrating knowledge of their faults and their failures in the past.I suppose if the Tay Bridge is to be built again, it won't be built ofthe same pattern as that which was blown into the water last week; andyou and I ought to learn by experience the places in our souls thatgive in the tempests, where there is most need for strengthening thebulwarks and defending our natures. And so I say, begin with theabundant recognition of the past, and then a brave confidence in thepossibilities of the future. Let us put ourselves under that greatrenovating Power which is conviction and affection and motive all inone. 'He loved me and gave Himself for me.' And so while we front thefuture we can feel that, God being in us, and Christ being in us, weshall make it a far brighter and fairer thing than the blurred andblotted past which to-day is buried, and life may go on with grandblessedness and power until we shall hear the great voice from theThrone say, 'There shall be no more death, no more sorrow, no morecrying, no more pain, for the former things are passed away, 'Behold!I make all things new.'

TWO VIEWS OF LIFE

'This sore travail hath God given to the sons of man, to be exercisedtherewith.—ECCLES. i. 13.

'He for our profit, that we might be partakers of Hisholiness.'—HEBREWS xii. 10.

These two texts set before us human life as it looks to two observers.The former admits that God shapes it; but to him it seems soretravail, the expenditure of much trouble and efforts; the results ofwhich seem to be nothing beyond profitless exercise. There is animmense activity and nothing to show for it at the end but weariedlimbs. The other observer sees, at least, as much of sorrow andtrouble as the former, but he believes in the 'Father of spirits,' andin a hereafter; and these, of course, bring a meaning and a widerpurpose into the 'sore travail,' and make it, not futile but,profitable to our highest good.

I. Note first the Preacher's gloomy half-truth.

The word rendered in our text 'travail' is a favourite one with thewriter. It means occupation which costs effort and causes trouble. Thephrase 'to be exercised therewith,' rather means to fatiguethemselves, so that life as looked upon by the Preacher consistsof effort without result but weariness.

If he knew it at all, it was very imperfectly and dimly; and whatevermay be thought of teaching on that subject which appears in the formalconclusion of the book, the belief in a future state certainlyexercises no influence on its earlier portions. These represent phasesthrough which the writer passes on his way to his conclusion. He doesbelieve in 'God,' but, very significantly, he never uses the sacredname 'Lord.' He has shaken himself free, or he wishes to represent acharacter who has shaken himself free from Revelation, and is fightingthe problem of life, its meaning and worth, without any help from Law,or Prophet, or Psalm. He does retain belief in what he calls 'God,'but his pure Theism, with little, if any, faith in a future life, is acreed which has no power of unravelling the perplexed mysteries oflife, and of answering the question, 'What does it all mean?' Withkeen and cynical vision he looks out not only over men, as in thisfirst chapter, but over nature; and what mainly strikes him is theenormous amount of work that is being done, and the tragical povertyof its results. The question with which he begins his book is, 'Whatprofit hath a man of all his labour wherein he laboureth under thesun?' And for answer he looks at the sun rising and going down, andbeing in the same place after its journey through the heavens; and hehears the wind continually howling and yet returning again to itscircuits; and the waters now running as rivers into the sea and againdrawn up in vapours, and once more falling in rain and running aswaters. This wearisome monotony of intense activity in nature isparalleled by all that is done by man under heaven, and the net resultof all is 'Vanity and a strife after wind.'

The writer proceeds to confirm his dreary conclusion by a piece ofautobiography put into the mouth of Solomon. He is represented asflinging himself into mirth and pleasure, into luxury and debauchery,and as satisfying every hunger for any joy, and as being pulled upshort in the midst of his rioting by the conviction, like a funeralbell, tolling in his mind that all was vanity. 'He gave himself towisdom, and madness, and folly'; and in all he found but oneresult—enormous effort and no profit. There seemed to be a time foreverything, and a kind of demonic power in men compelling them to toilas with equal energy, now at building up, and now at destroying. Butto every purpose he saw that there was 'time and judgment,' andtherefore, 'the misery of man was great upon him.' To his jaundicedeye the effort of life appeared like the play of the wind in thedesert, always busy, but sometime busy in heaping the sands inhillocks, and sometimes as busy in levelling them to a plain.

We may regard such a view of humanity as grotesquely pessimistic; butthere is no doubt that many of us do make of life little more thanwhat the Preacher thought it. It is not only the victims ofcivilisation who are forced to wearisome monotony of toil which barelyyields daily bread; but we see all around us men and women wearing outtheir lives in the race after a false happiness, gaining nothing bythe race but weariness. What shall we say of the man who, in thedesire to win wealth, or reputation, lives laborious days of crampingeffort in one direction, and allows all the better part of his natureto be atrophied, and die, and passes, untasted, brooks by the way, themodest joys and delights that run through the dustiest lives. What isthe difference between a squirrel in the cage who only makes hisprison go round the faster by his swift race, and the man who livestoilsome days for transitory objects which he may never attain? In theold days every prison was furnished with a tread-mill, on which theprisoner being set was bound to step up on each tread of the revolvingwheel, not in order to rise, but in order to prevent him from breakinghis legs. How many men around us are on such a mill, and how many ofthem have fastened themselves on it, and by their own misreading andmisuse of life have turned it into a dreary monotony of resultlesstoil. The Preacher may be more ingenious than sound in his pessimism,but let us not forget that every godless man does make of life 'Vanityand strife after wind.'

II. The higher truth which completes the Preacher's.

Of course the fragmentary sentence in our second text needs to becompleted from the context, and so completed will stand, 'God chastensus for our profit, that we should be partakers of His holiness.' Nowlet us consider for a moment the thought that the true meaning of lifeis discipline. I say discipline rather than 'chastening,' forchastening simply implies the fact of pain, whereas disciplineincludes the wholesome purpose of pain. The true meaning oflife is not to be found by estimating its sorrows or its joys, but bytrying to estimate the effects of either upon us. The true value oflife, and the meaning of all its tears and of all its joys, is what itmakes us. If the enormous effort which struck the Preacher issues instrengthened muscles and braced limbs, it is not 'vanity.' He whocarries away with him out of life a character moulded as God wouldhave it, does not go in all points 'naked as he came.' He bears adeveloped self, and that is the greatest treasure that a man can carryout of multitudinous toils of the busiest life. If we would think lessof our hard work and of our heavy sorrows, and more of the lovingpurpose which appoints them all, we should find life less difficult,less toilsome, less mysterious. That one thought taken to our hearts,and honestly applied to everything that befalls us, would untie many ariddle, would wipe away many a tear, would bring peace and patienceinto many a heart, and would make still brighter many a gladness.Without it our lives are a chaos; with it they would become an orderedworld.

But the recognition of the hand that ministers the discipline isneeded to complete the peacefulness of faith. It would be a drearyworld if we could only think of some inscrutable or impersonal powerthat inflicted the discipline; but if in its sharpest pangs we give'reverence to the Father of spirits,' we shall 'live.' Of course, aloving father sees to his children's education, and a loving childcannot but believe that the father's single purpose in all hisdiscipline is his good. The good that is sought to be attained by thesharpest chastisem*nt is better than the good that is given by weakindulgence. When the father's hand wields the rod, and a loving childreceives the strokes, they may sting, but they do not wound. The'fathers of our flesh chasten us after their own pleasure,' and theremay be error and arbitrariness in their action; and the child maysometimes nourish a right sense of injustice, but 'the Father ofspirits' makes no mistakes, and never strikes too hard. 'He for ourprofit' carries with it the declaration that the deep heart of Goddoth not willingly afflict, and seeks in afflicting for nothing butHis children's good.

Nor are these all the truths by which the New Testament completes andsupersedes the Preacher's pessimism, for our text closes by unveilingthe highest profit which discipline is meant to secure to us as beingthat we should be 'partakers of His holiness.' The Biblical conceptionof holiness in God is that of separation from and elevation above thecreature. Man's holiness is separation from the world and dedicationto God. He is separated from the world by moral perfection yet morethan by His other attributes, and men who have yielded themselves toHim will share in that characteristic. This assimilation to His natureis the highest 'profit' to which we can attain, and all the purpose ofHis chastening is to make us more completely like Himself. 'Thefathers of our flesh' chasten with a view to the brief earthly life,but His chastening looks onwards beyond the days of 'strife andvanity' to a calm eternity.

Thus, then, the immortality which glimmered doubtfully in the end ofhis book before the eyes of the Preacher is the natural inference forthe Christian thought of moral discipline as the great purpose oflife. No doubt it might be possible for a man to believe in thesupreme importance of character, and in all the discipline of life assubsidiary to its development, and yet not believe in another world,where all that was tendency, often thwarted, should be accomplishedresult, and the schooling ended the rod should be broken. But such aposition will be very rare and very absurd. To recognise moraldiscipline as the greatest purpose of life, gives quite overwhelmingprobability to a future. Surely God does not take such pains with usin order to make no more of us than He makes of us in this world.Surely human life becomes 'confusion worse confounded' if it iscarefully, sedulously, continuously tended, checked, inspired,developed by all the various experiences of sorrow and joy, and then,at death, broken short off, as a man might break a stick across hisknee, and the fragments tossed aside and forgotten. If we can say, 'Hefor our profit that we might be partakers of His holiness,' we havethe right to say 'We shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as Heis.'

'A TIME TO PLANT'

'A time to plant.'—Eccles. iii. 2.

The writer enumerates in this context a number of opposite courses ofconduct arranged in pairs, each of which is right at the right time.The view thus presented seems to him to be depressing, and to makelife difficult to understand, and aimless. We always appear to bebuilding up with one hand and pulling down with the other. The shipnever heads for two miles together in the same direction. The historyof human affairs appears to be as purposeless as the play of the windon the desert sands, which it sometimes piles into huge mounds andthen scatters.

So he concludes that only God, who appoints the seasons that demandopposite courses of conduct, can understand what it all means. Theengine-driver knows why he reverses his engine, and not the wheelsthat are running in opposite directions in consecutive momentsaccording to his will.

Now that is a one-sided view, of course, for it is to be rememberedthat the Book of Ecclesiastes is the logbook of a voyager after truth,and tells us all the wanderings and errors of his thinking until hehas arrived at the haven of the conclusion that he announces in thefinal word: 'Hear the sum of the whole matter: Fear God, and keep Hiscommandments, for this is the whole duty of man.'

I have nothing to do just now with the conclusion which he arrives at,but the facts from which he starts are significant and important.There are things in life, God has so arranged it, which can only bedone fittingly, and for the most part of all, at certain seasons; andthe secret of success is the discernment of present duty, and theprompt performance of it.

And this is especially true about your time of life, my young friends.There are things, very important things, which, unless you do themnow, the overwhelming probability is that you will never do at all;and the certainty is that you will not do them half as well. And so Iwant to ask you to look at these words, which, by a legitimateextension of the writer's meaning, and taking them in a kind ofparabolic way, may sum up for us the whole of the special duties ofyouth. 'A time to plant.'

I. Now, my first remark is this: that you are now in the planting timeof your lives.

No wise forester will try to shift shrubs or to put them into hisgardens or woods, except in late autumn or early spring. And our livesare as really under the dominion of the law of seasons as the greenworld of the forest and the fields. Speaking generally, and admittingthe existence of many exceptions, the years between childhood and,say, two or three-and-twenty, for a young man or woman, for the mostpart settle the main outline of their character, and thereby determinetheir history, which, after all, is mainly the outcome of theircharacter.

You have wide possibilities before you, of moulding your charactersinto beauty, and purity, holiness, and strength.

For one thing, you have got no past, or next to none written all over,which it is hard to erase. You have substantially a clean sheet onwhich to write what you like. Your stage of life predisposes you infavour of novelty. New things are glad things to you, whereas to usolder people a new thought coming into some of our brains is like anew bit of furniture coming into a crowded room. All the other piecesneed to be arranged, and it is more of a trouble than anything else.You are flexible and plastic as yet, like the iron running out of theblast furnace in a molten stream, which in half an hour's time will bea rigid bar that no man can bend.

You have all these things in your favour, and so, dear young friends,whether you think of it or not, whether voluntarily or not, I want youto remember that this awful process is going on inevitably andconstantly in every one of you. You are planting, whether yourecognise the fact or no. What are you planting?

Well, for one thing, you are making habits, which are butactions hardened, like the juice that exudes from the pine-tree,liquid, or all but liquid, when it comes out, and when exposed to theair, is solidified and tenacious. The old legend of the man in thetower who got a slim thread up to his window, to which was attachedone thicker and then thicker, and so on ever increasing until hehauled in a cable, is a true parable of what goes on in every humanlife. Some one deed, a thin film like a spider's thread, draws afterit a thicker, by that inevitable law that a thing done once tends tobe done twice, and that the second time it is easier than the firsttime. A man makes a track with great difficulty across the snow in amorning, but every time that he travels it, it is a little harder, andthe track is a little broader, and it is easier walking. You play withthe tiger's whelp of some pleasant, questionable enjoyment, and youthink that it will always keep so innocent, with its budding claws notable to draw blood, but it grows—it grows. And it growsaccording to its kind, and what was a plaything one day is afull-grown and ravening wild beast in a while. You are making habits,whatever else you are making, and you are planting in your heartsseeds that will spring and bear fruit according to their kind.

Then remember, you are planting belief.—Most of us, I amafraid, get our opinions by haphazard; like the child in thewell-known story, whose only account of herself was that 'she expectedshe growed.' That is the way by which most of you come to what youdignify by the name of your opinions. They come in upon you, you donot know how. Youth is receptive of anything new. You can learn a vastdeal more easily than many of us older people can. Set down a man whohas never learned the alphabet, to learn his letters, and see what atask it is for him. Or if he takes a pen in his hand for the firsttime, look how difficult the stiff wrist and thick knuckles find it tobend. Yours is the time for forming your opinions, for forming somerational and intelligent account of yourself and the world about you.See to it, that you plant truth in your hearts, under which you maylive sheltered for many days.

Then again, you are planting character, which is not only habit, butsomething more. You are making yourselves, whatever else youare making. You begin with almost boundless possibilities, and thesenarrow and narrow and narrow, according to your actions, until youhave laid the rails on which you travel—one narrow line that youcannot get off. A man's character is, if I may use a chemical term, a'precipitate' from his actions. Why, it takes acres of roses to make aflask of perfume; and all the long life of a man is represented in hisultimate character. Character is formed like those chalk cliffs in thesouth, built up eight hundred feet, beetling above the stormy sea; andall made up of the relics of microscopic animals. So you build up agreat solid structure—yourself—out of all your deeds. You are makingyour character, your habits, your opinions.—And you are making yourreputation too. And you will not be able to get rid of that. This isthe time for you to make a good record or a bad one, in other people'sopinions.

And so, young men and women, boys and girls, I want you to rememberthe permanent effects of your most fleeting acts. Nothing ever diesthat a man does. Nothing! You go into a museum, and you will seestanding there a slab of red sandstone, and little dints and dimplesupon it. What are they? Marks made by a flying shower that lasted forfive minutes, nobody knows how many millenniums ago. And there theyare, and there they will be until the world is burned up. So ourfleeting deeds are all recorded here, in our permanent character.Everything that we have done is laid up there in the testimony of therocks:—

'Through our soul the echoes roll,
And grow for ever and for ever.'

You are now living in 'a time to plant.'

II. Notice, in the next place, that as surely as now is thetime to plant, then will be a time to reap.

I do not know whether the writer of my text meant the harvest, when heput in antithesis to my text the other clause, 'and a time to pluck upthat which is planted.' Probably, as most of the other pairs areopposites, here, too, we are to see an opposite rather than a result;the destructive action of plucking up, and not the preservative actionof gathering a harvest. But, however that may be, let me remind youthat there stands, irrefragable, for every human soul and every humandeed, this great solemn law of retribution.

Now what lies in that law? Two things—that the results are similar inkind, and more in number. The law of likeness, and the law ofincrease, both of them belong to the working of the law ofretribution. And so, be sure that you will find out that all your pastlives on into your present; and that the present, in fact, is verylittle more than the outcome of the past. What you plant as a youthyou will reap as a man. This mysterious life of ours is all sowing andreaping intermingled, right away on to the very end. Each action is inturn the child of all the preceding and the parent of all thatfollows. But still, though that be true, your time of life ispredominantly the time of sowing; and my time of life, for instance,is predominantly the time of reaping. There are a great many thingsthat I could not do now if I wished. There are a great many things inour past that I, and men of my age, would fain alter; but there theystand, and nothing can do away the marks of that which once has been.We have to reap, and so will you some day.

And I will tell you what you will have to reap, as sure as you aresitting in those pews. You will have the enlarged growth of yourpresent characteristics. A man takes a photograph upon a sensitiveplate, half the size of the palm of my hand; and then he enlarges itto any size he pleases. And that is what life does for all of us. Thepictures, drawn small on the young man's imagination, on the youngwoman's dreaming heart, be they of angels or of beasts, are permanent;and they will get bigger and bigger and bigger, as get older. You donot reap only as much as you sowed, but 'some sixty fold, and some anhundred fold.'

And you will reap the increased dominion of your early habits. Thereis a grim verse in the Book of Proverbs that speaks about a man beingtied and bound by the chains of his sins. And that is just saying thatthe things which you chose to do when you were a boy, many of them youwill have to do when you are a man; because you have lost the power,though sometimes not the will, of doing anything else. There be menthat sow the wind, and they do not reap the wind, but the law ofincrease comes in and they reap the whirlwind. There be men who,according to the old Greek legend, sow dragon's teeth and they reaparmed soldiers. There are some of you that are sowing to the flesh,and as sure as God lives, you will 'of the flesh reap corruption.''Whatsoever a man soweth, that,' even here, 'shall he also reap.'

And let me remind you that that law of inheriting the fruit of ourdoings is by no means exhausted by the experience of life. Wheneverconscience is awakened it at once testifies not only of a broken law,but of a living Law-giver; and not only of retribution here, but ofretribution hereafter. And I for my part believe that the modern formof Christianity and the tendencies of the modern pulpit, influenced bysome theological discussions, about details in the notion ofretribution that have been going on of late years, have operated tomake ministers of the Gospel too chary of preaching, and hearersindisposed to accept, the message of 'the terror of the Lord.' My dearfriends! retribution cannot stop on this side of the grave, and if youare going yonder you are carrying with you the necessity in yourselffor inheriting the results of your life here. I beseech you, do notput away such thoughts as this, with the notion that I am brandishingbefore you some antiquated doctrine, fit only to frighten old womenand children. The writer of the Book of Ecclesiastes was noweak-minded, superstitious fanatic. He was far more disposed toscepticism than to fanaticism. But for all that, with all his sympathyfor young men's breadth and liberality, with his tolerance for allsorts and ways of living, with all his doubts and questionings, hecame to this, and this was his teaching to the young men whom in ideahe had gathered round his chair,—'Rejoice, oh young man, in thyyouth. And let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walkin the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes.' By allmeans, God has put you into a fair world, and meant you to get all thegood out of it. 'But,' and that not as a kill-joy, 'know thou, thatfor all these things God will bring thee into judgment,' and shapeyour characters accordingly.

III. Still further, let me say, these things being so, you especiallyneed to ponder them.

That is so, because you especially are in danger of forgetting them.It is meant that young people should live by impulse much more than byreflection.

'If nature put not forth her power
About the opening of the flower,
Who is there that could live an hour?'

The days of calculation will come soon enough; and I do not want tohurry them. I do not want to put old heads upon young shoulders. Iwould rather see the young ones, a great deal. But I want you not togo down to the level of the beast, living only by instinct and byimpulse. You have got brains, you are meant to use them. You have thegreat divine gift of reason, that looks before and after, and thoughyou have not much experience yet, you can, if you will, reflect uponsuch things as I have just been saying to you, and take them into yourhearts, and live accordingly. My dear young friend! enjoy yourself,live buoyantly, yield to your impulses, be glad for the beautiful lifethat is unfolding around you, and the strong nature that is blossomingwithin you. And then take this other lesson, 'Ponder the path of thyfeet,' and remember that all the while you dance along the flowerypath, you are planting what you will have to reap.

Then, still further, it is especially needful for you that you shouldponder these things, because unless you do you will certainly gowrong. If you do not plant good, somebody else will plant evil. Anuntilled field is not a field that nothing grows in, but it is a fieldfull of weeds; and the world and the flesh and the devil, thetemptations round about you and the evil tendencies in you, unlessthey are well kept down and kept off, are sure to fill your souls fullof all manner of seeds that will spring up to bitterness, and poison,and death. Oh! think, think! for it is the only chance of keeping yourhearts from being full of wickedness—think what you are sowing, andthink what will the harvest be. There are some of you, as I said,sowing to the flesh, young men living impure and wicked lives, and'their bones are full of the sins of their youth.' There are some ofyou letting every wind bring the thistledown of vanities, and scatterthem all across your hearts, that they may spring up prickly, andgifted with a fatal power of self-multiplication. There are some ofyou, young men, and young women too, whose lives are divided betweenManchester business and that ignoble thirst for mere amusem*nt whichis eating all the dignity and the earnestness out of the young men ofthis city. I beseech you, do not slide into habits of frivolity,licentiousness, and sin, for want of looking after yourselves.Remember, if you do not ponder the path of your feet, you are sure totake the turn to the left.

Again, it is needful for you to ponder these things, for if you wastethis time, it will never come back to you any more. It is useless tosow corn in August. There are things in this world that a man can onlyget when he is young, such as sound education, for instance; businesshabits, habits of industry, of application, of concentration, ofself-control, a reputation which may avail in the future. If you donot begin to get these before you are five-and-twenty, you will neverget them.

And although the certainty is not so absolute in regard to spiritualand religious things, the dice are frightfully weighted, and thechances are terribly small that a young man who, like some of you, haspassed his early years in church or chapel, in weekly contact withearnest preaching, and has not accepted the Saviour, will do it whenhe grows old. He may; he may. But it is a great deal more likely thathe will not.

IV. The conclusion of the whole matter is, Begin on the spot, to trustand to serve Jesus Christ.

These are the best things to plant—simple reliance upon His death foryour forgiveness, upon His power to make you pure and clean; simplesubmission to His commandment. Oh! dear young friend; if you havethese in your hearts everything will come right. You will get habit onyour side, and that is much; and you will be saved from a great dealof misery which would be yours if you went wrong first, and then cameright.

If you will plant a cutting of the tree of life in your heart it willyield everything to you when it grows. The people in the South Seas,if they have a palm-tree, can get out of it bread and drink, food,clothing, shelter, light, materials for books, cordage for theirboats, needles to sew with, and everything. If you will take JesusChrist, and plant Him in your hearts, everything will come out ofthat. That Tree 'bears twelve manners of fruits, and yields His fruitevery month.' With Christ in your heart all other fair things will beplanted there; and with Him in your heart, all evil things which youmay already have planted there, will be rooted out. Just as when somestrong exotic is carried to some distant land and there takes root, itexterminates the feebler vegetation of the place to which it comes; sowith Christ in my heart the sins, the evil habits, the passions, thelusts, and all other foul spawn and offspring, will die and disappear.Take Him, then, dear friend! by simple faith, for your Saviour. Hewill plant the good seed in your spirit, and 'instead of the briarshall come up the myrtle.' Your lives will become fruitful of goodnessand of joy, according to that ancient promise: 'The righteous shallflourish like the palm-tree; he shall grow like a cedar in Lebanon.Those that be planted in the house of the Lord shall flourish in thecourts of our God. They shall still bring forth fruit in old age.'

ETERNITY IN THE HEART

'He hath made every thing beautiful in his time: also He hath set theworld in their heart.'—ECCLES. iii. 11.

There is considerable difficulty in understanding what precise meaningis to be attached to these words, and what precise bearing they haveon the general course of the writer's thoughts; but one or two thingsare, at any rate, quite clear.

The Preacher has been enumerating all the various vicissitudes ofprosperity and adversity, of construction and destruction, of societyand solitude, of love and hate, for which there is scope and vergeenough in one short human life; and his conclusion is, as it always isin the earlier part of this book, that because there is such anendless diversity of possible occupation, and each of them lasts butfor a little time, and its opposite has as good a right of existenceas itself; therefore, perhaps, it might be as well that a man shoulddo nothing as do all these opposite things which neutralise eachother, and the net result of which is nothing. If there be a time tobe born and a time to die, nonentity would be the same when all isover. If there be a time to plant and a time to pluck, what is thegood of planting? If there be a time for love and a time for hate, whycherish affections which are transient and may be succeeded by theiropposites?

And then another current of thought passes through his mind, and hegets another glimpse somewhat different, and says in effect, 'No! thatis not all true—God has made all these different changes, andalthough each of them seems contradictory of the other, in its ownplace and at its own time each is beautiful and has a right to exist.'The contexture of life, and even the perplexities and darknesses ofhuman society, and the varieties of earthly condition—if they beconfined within their own proper limits, and regarded as parts of awhole—they are all co-operant to an end. As from wheels turningdifferent ways in some great complicated machine, and yet fitting bytheir cogs into one another, there may be a resultant direct motionproduced even by these apparently antagonistic forces.

But the second clause of our text adds a thought which is in somesense contrasted with this.

The word rendered 'world' is a very frequent one in the Old Testament,and has never but one meaning, and that meaning is eternity.'He hath set eternity in their heart.'

Here, then, are two antagonistic facts. They are transient things, avicissitude which moves within natural limits, temporary events whichare beautiful in their season. But there is also the contrasted fact,that the man who is thus tossed about, as by some great battledorewielded by giant powers in mockery, from one changing thing toanother, has relations to something more lasting than the transient.He lives in a world of fleeting change, but he has 'eternity' in 'hisheart.' So between him and his dwelling-place, between him and hisoccupations, there is a gulf of disproportion. He is subjected tothese alternations, and yet bears within him a repressed but immortalconsciousness that he belongs to another order of things, which knowsno vicissitude and fears no decay. He possesses stifled andmisinterpreted longings which, however starved, do yet survive, afterunchanging Being and eternal Rest, And thus endowed, and by contrastthus situated, his soul is full of the 'blank misgiving of a creaturemoving about in worlds not realised.' Out of these two facts—says ourtext—man's where and man's what, his nature and hisposition, there rises a mist of perplexity and darkness that wraps thewhole course of the divine actions—unless, indeed, we have reachedthat central height of vision above the mists, which this Book ofEcclesiastes puts forth at last as the conclusion of the wholematter—'Fear God, and keep His commandments.' If transitory thingswith their multitudinous and successive waves toss us to solid safetyon the Rock of Ages, then all is well, and many mysteries will beclear. But if not, if we have not found, or rather followed, the oneGod-given way of harmonising these two sets of experiences—life inthe transient, and longings for the eternal—then their antagonismdarkens our thoughts of a wise and loving Providence, and we have lostthe key to the confused riddle which the world then presents. 'He hathmade everything beautiful in his time: also He hath set Eternity intheir heart, so that no man can find out the work that God maketh fromthe beginning to the end.'

Such, then, being a partial but, perhaps, not entirely inadequate viewof the course of thought in the words before us, I may now proceed toexpand the considerations thus brought under our notice in them. Thesemay be gathered up in three principal ones: the consciousness ofEternity in every heart; the disproportion thence resulting betweenthis nature of ours and the order of things in which we dwell; andfinally, the possible satisfying of that longing in men's hearts—apossibility not indeed referred to in our text, but unveiled as thefinal word of this Book of Ecclesiastes, and made clear to us in JesusChrist.

I. Consider that eternity is set in every human heart.

The expression is, of course, somewhat difficult, even if we acceptgenerally the explanation which I have given. It may be either adeclaration of the actual immortality of the soul, or it may mean, asI rather suppose it to do, the consciousness of eternity which is partof human nature.

The former idea is no doubt closely connected with the latter, andwould here yield an appropriate sense. We should then have thecontrast between man's undying existence and the transient trifles onwhich he is tempted to fix his love and hopes. We belong to one set ofexistences by our bodies, and to another by our souls. Though we areparts of the passing material world, yet in that outward frame islodged a personality that has nothing in common with decay and death.A spark of eternity dwells in these fleeting frames. The laws ofphysical growth and accretion and maturity and decay, which rule overall things material, do not apply to my true self. 'In our embers issomething that doth live.' Whatsoever befalls the hairs that get greyand thin, and the hands that become wrinkled and palsied, and theheart that is worn out by much beating, and the blood that clogs andclots at last, and the filmy eye, and all the corruptible frame; yet,as the heathen said, 'I shall not all die,' but deep withinthis transient clay house, that must crack and fall and be resolvedinto the elements out of which it was built up, there dwells animmortal guest, an undying personal self. In the heart, the inmostspiritual being of every man, eternity, in this sense of the word,does dwell.

'Commonplaces,' you say. Yes; commonplaces, which word means twothings—truths that affect us all, and also truths which, because theyare so universal and so entirely believed, are all but powerless.Surely it is not time to stop preaching such truths as long as theyare forgotten by the overwhelming majority of the people whoacknowledge them. Thank God! the staple of the work of us preachers isthe reiteration of commonplaces, which His goodness has made familiar,and our indolence and sin have made stale and powerless.

My brother! you would be a wiser man if, instead of turning the edgeof statements which you know to be true, and which, if true, areinfinitely solemn and important, by commonplace sarcasm about pulpitcommonplaces, you would honestly try to drive the familiar neglectedtruth home to your mind and heart. Strip it of its generality andthink, 'It is true about me. I live for ever. My outward lifewill cease, and my dust will return to dust—but I shalllast undying.' And ask yourselves—What then? 'Am I making "provisionfor the flesh, to fulfil the lusts thereof," in more or less refinedfashion, and forgetting to provide for that which lives for evermore?Eternity is in my heart. What a madness it is to go on, as ifeither I were to continue for ever among the shows of time, or when Ileave them all, to die wholly and be done with altogether!'

But, probably, the other interpretation of these words is the truer.The doctrine of immortality does not seem to be stated in this Book ofEcclesiastes, except in one or two very doubtful expressions. And itis more in accordance with its whole tone to suppose the Preacher hereto be asserting, not that the heart or spirit is immortal, but that,whether it is or no, in the heart is planted the thought, theconsciousness of eternity—and the longing after it.

Let me put that into other words. We, brethren, are the only beings onthis earth who can think the thought and speak the word—Eternity.Other creatures are happy while immersed in time; we have anothernature, and are disturbed by a thought which shines high above theroaring sea of circ*mstance in which we float.

I do not care at present about the metaphysical puzzles that have beengathered round that conception, nor care to ask whether it is positiveor negative, adequate or inadequate. Enough that the word has ameaning, that it corresponds to a thought which dwells in men's minds.It is of no consequence at all for our purpose, whether it is apositive conception, or simply the thinking away of all limitations.'I know what God is, when you do not ask me.' I know what eternity is,though I cannot define the word to satisfy a metaphysician. The littlechild taught by some grandmother Lois, in a cottage, knows what shemeans when she tells him 'you will live for ever,' though both scholarand teacher would be puzzled to put it into other words. When we sayeternity flows round this bank and shoal of time, men know what wemean. Heart answers to heart; and in each heart lies that solemnthought—for ever!

Like all other of the primal thoughts of men's souls, it may beincreased in force and clearness, or it may be neglected and opposed,and all but crushed. The thought of God is natural to man, the thoughtof right and wrong is natural to man—and yet there may be atheistswho have blinded their eyes, and there may be degraded and almostanimal natures who have seared their consciences and called sweetbitter and evil good. Thus men may so plunge themselves into thepresent as to lose the consciousness of the eternal—as a man sweptover Niagara, blinded by the spray and deafened by the rush, would seeor hear nothing outside the green walls of the death that encompassedhim. And yet the blue sky with its peaceful spaces stretches above thehell of waters.

So the thought is in us all—a presentiment and a consciousness; andthat universal presentiment itself goes far to establish the realityof the unseen order of things to which it is directed. The greatplanet that moves on the outmost circle of our system was discoveredbecause that next it wavered in its course in a fashion which wasinexplicable, unless some unknown mass was attracting it from acrossmillions of miles of darkling space. And there are 'perturbations' inour spirits which cannot be understood, unless from them we may divinethat far-off and unseen world, that has power from afar to sway intheir orbits the little lives of mortal men. It draws us toitself—but, alas! the attraction may be resisted and thwarted. Thedead mass of the planet bends to the drawing, but we can repel theconstraint which the eternal world would exercise upon us—and so thatconsciousness which ought to be our nobleness, as it is ourprerogative, may become our shame, our misery, and our sin.

That Eternity which is set in our hearts is not merely the thought ofever-during Being, or of an everlasting order of things to which weare in some way related. But there are connected with it other ideasbesides those of mere duration. Men know what perfection means. Theyunderstand the meaning of perfect goodness; they have the notion ofinfinite Wisdom and boundless Love. These thoughts are the material ofall poetry, the thread from which the imagination creates all herwondrous tapestries. This 'capacity for the Infinite,' as people callit—which is only a fine way of putting the same thought as that inour text—which is the prerogative of human spirits, is likewise thecurse of many spirits. By their misuse of it they make it a fatalgift, and turn it into an unsatisfied desire which gnaws their souls,a famished yearning which 'roars, and suffers hunger.' Knowing whatperfection is, they turn to limited natures and created hearts fortheir rest. Having the haunting thought of an absolute Goodness, aperfect Wisdom, an endless Love, an eternal Life—they try to find thebeing that corresponds to their thought here on earth, and so they areplagued with endless disappointment.

My brother! God has put eternity in your heart. Not only willyou live for ever, but also in your present life you have aconsciousness of that eternal and infinite and all-sufficient Beingthat lives above. You have need of Him, and whether you know it ornot, the tendrils of your spirits, like some climbing plant notfostered by a careful hand but growing wild, are feeling out into thevacancy in order to grasp the stay which they need for their fruitageand their strength.

By the make of our spirits, by the possibilities that dawn dim beforeus, by the thoughts 'whose very sweetness yieldeth proof that theywere born for immortality,'—by all these and a thousand other signsand facts in every human life we say, 'God has set eternity in theirhearts!'

II. And then turn to the second idea that is here. The disproportionbetween this our nature, and the world in which we dwell.

The writer of this book (whether Solomon or no we need not stay todiscuss) looks out upon the world; and in accordance with theprevailing tone of all the earlier parts of his contemplations, findsin this prerogative of man but another reason for saying, 'All isvanity and vexation of spirit.'

Two facts meet him antagonistic to one another: the place that manoccupies, and the nature that man bears. This creature with eternityin his heart, where is he set? what has he got to work upon? what hashe to love and hold by, to trust to, and anchor his life on? A crowdof things, each well enough, but each having a time—and thoughthey be beautiful in their time, yet fading and vanishing when it haselapsed. No multiplication of times will make eternity.And so with that thought in his heart, man is driven out among objectsperfectly insufficient to meet it.

Christ said, 'Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, butthe Son of man hath not where to lay His head'—and while the wordshave their proper and most pathetic meaning in the history of His ownearthly life of travail and toil for our sakes, we may also venture togive them the further application, that all the lower creatures are atrest here, and that the more truly a man is man, the less can he find,among all the shadows of the present, a pillow for his head, a placeof repose for his heart. The animal nature is at home in the materialworld, the human nature is not.

Every other creature presents the most accurate correspondence betweennature and circ*mstances, powers and occupations. Man alone is likesome poor land-bird blown out to sea, and floating half-drowned withclinging plumage on an ocean where the dove 'finds no rest for thesole of her foot,' or like some creature that loves to glance in thesunlight, but is plunged into the deepest recesses of a dark mine. Inthe midst of a universe marked by the nicest adaptations of creaturesto their habitation, man alone, the head of them all, presents theunheard-of anomaly that he is surrounded by conditions which donot fit his whole nature, which are not adequate for all hispowers, on which he cannot feed and nurture his whole being. 'To whatpurpose is this waste?' 'Hast thou made all men in vain?'

Everything is 'beautiful in its time.' Yes, and for that very reason,as this Book of Ecclesiastes says in another verse, 'Because to everypurpose there is time and judgment, therefore the misery of man isgreat upon him.' It was happy when we loved; but the day ofindifference and alienation and separation comes. Our spirits wereglad when we were planting; but the time for plucking up that whichwas planted is sure to draw near. It was blessed to pour out our soulsin the effluence of love, or in the fullness of thought, and the timeto speak was joyous; but the dark day of silence comes on. When wetwined hearts and clasped hands together it was glad, and the timewhen we embraced was blessed; but the time to refrain from embracingis as sure to draw near. It is good for the eyes to behold the sun,but so certainly as it rolls to its bed in the west, and 'leaves theworld to darkness' and to us, do all earthly occupations wane andfade, and all possessions shrivel and dwindle, and all associationssnap and drop and end, and the whirligig of time works round and takesaway everything which it once brought us.

And so man, with eternity in his heart, with the hunger in his spiritafter an unchanging whole, an absolute good, an ideal perfectness, animmortal being—is condemned to the treadmill of transitoryrevolution. Nothing continueth in one stay, 'For all that is inthe world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and thepride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world. And theworld passeth away, and the lust thereof.' It is limited, it ischangeful, it slips from under us as we stand upon it, and therefore,mystery and perplexity stoop down upon the providence of God, andmisery and loneliness enter into the heart of man. These changefulthings, they do not meet our ideal, they do not satisfy our wants,they do not last even our duration.

'The misery of man is great upon him,' said the text quoted a momentago. And is it not? Is this present life enough for you? Sometimes youfancy it is. Many of us habitually act on the understanding that itis, and treat all that I have been saying about the disproportionbetween our nature and our circ*mstances as not true about them. 'Thisworld not enough for me!' you say—'Yes! it is; only let me get alittle more of it, and keep what I get, and I shall be all right.' Sothen—'a little more' is wanted, is it? And that 'little more' willalways be wanted, and besides it, the guarantee of permanence willalways be wanted, and failing these, there will be a hunger thatnothing can fill which belongs to earth. Do you remember the bitterexperience of the poor prodigal, 'he would fain have filled his bellywith the husks'? He tried his best to live upon the horny,innutritious pods, but he could not; and after them he still was'perishing with hunger.' So it is with us all when we try to fill thesoul and satisfy the spirit with earth or aught that holds of it. Itis as impossible to still the hunger of the heart with that, as tostay the hunger of the body with wise sayings or noble sentiments.

I appeal to your real selves, to your own past experience. Is it nottrue that, deep below the surface contentment with the world and thethings of the world, a dormant but slightly slumbering sense of wantand unsatisfied need lies in your souls? Is it not true that it wakessometimes at a touch; that the tender, dying light of sunset, or thecalm abysses of the mighty heavens, or some strain of music, or a linein a book, or a sorrow in your heart, or the solemnity of a great joy,or close contact with sickness and death, or the more direct appealsof Scripture and of Christ, stir a wistful yearning and a painfulsense of emptiness in your hearts, and of insufficiency in all theordinary pursuits of your lives? It cannot but be so; for though it betrue that our natures are in some measure subdued to what we work in,and although it is possible to atrophy the deepest parts of our beingby long neglect or starvation, yet you will never do that sothoroughly but that the deep-seated longing will break forth atintervals, and the cry of its hunger echo through the soul. Many of usdo our best to silence it. But I, for my part, believe that, howeveryou have crushed and hardened your souls by indifference, by ambition,by worldly cares, by frivolous or coarse pleasures, or by any of thethousand other ways in which you can do it—yet there is some responsein your truest self to my poor words when I declare that a soulwithout God is an empty and an aching soul!

These things which, even in their time of beauty, are not enough for aman's soul—have all but a time to be beautiful in, and then they fadeand die. A great botanist made what he called 'a floral clock' to markthe hours of the day by the opening and closing of flowers. It was agraceful and yet a pathetic thought. One after another they spreadtheir petals, and their varying colours glow in the light. But oneafter another they wearily shut their cups, and the night falls, andthe latest of them folds itself together, and all are hidden away inthe dark. So our joys and treasures, were they sufficient did theylast, cannot last. After a summer's day comes a summer's night, andafter a brief space of them comes winter, when all are killed and theleafless trees stand silent.

'Bare, ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.'

We cleave to these temporal possessions and joys, and the natural lawof change sweeps them away from us one by one. Most of them do notlast so long as we do, and they pain us when they pass awayfrom us. Some of them last longer than we do, and they pain uswhen we pass away from them. Either way our hold of them is atransient hold, and one knows not whether is the sadder—the baregarden beds where all have done blowing, and nothing remains but atangle of decay, or the blooming beauty from which a man is summonedaway, leaving others to reap what he has sown. Tragic enough are bothat the best—and certain to befall us all. We live and they fade; wedie and they remain. We live again and they are far away. The factsare so. We may make them a joy or a sorrow as we will.Transiency is stamped on all our possessions, occupations, anddelights. We have the hunger for eternity in our souls, the thought ofeternity in our hearts, the destination for eternity written on ourinmost being, and the need to ally ourselves with eternity proclaimedeven by the most short-lived trifles of time. Either these things willbe the blessing or the curse of our lives. Which do you mean that theyshall be for you?

III. These thoughts lead us to consider the possible satisfying of oursouls.

This Book of Ecclesiastes is rather meant to enforce the truth of theweariness and emptiness of a godless life, than of the blessedness ofa godly one. It is the record of the struggles of a soul—'theconfessions of an inquiring spirit'—feeling and fighting its waythrough many errors, and many partial and unsatisfactory solutions ofthe great problem of life, till he reaches the one in which he canrest. When he has touched that goal his work is done. And so thedevious way is told in the book at full length, while a sentence setsforth the conclusion to which he was working, even when he was mostbewildered. 'The conclusion of the whole matter' is 'Fear God and keepHis commandments.' That is all that a man needs. It is 'the whole ofman.' 'All is' not 'vanity and vexation of spirit'then—but 'all things work together for good to them that loveGod.'

The Preacher in his day learned that it was possible to satisfy thehunger for eternity, which had once seemed to him a questionableblessing. He learned that it was a loving Providence which had mademan's home so little fit for him, that he might seek the 'city whichhath foundations.' He learned that all the pain of passing beauty, andthe fading flowers of man's goodliness, were capable of being turnedinto a solemn joy. Standing at the centre, he saw order instead ofchaos, and when he had come back, after all his search, to the oldsimple faith of peasants and children in Judah, to fear God and keepHis commandments, he understood why God had set eternity in man'sheart, and then flung him out, as if in mockery, amidst the stormywaves of the changeful ocean of time.

And we, who have a further word from God, may have a fuller and yetmore blessed conviction, built upon our own happy experience, if wechoose, that it is possible for us to have that deep thirstslaked, that longing appeased. We have Christ to trust to and to love.He has given Himself for us that all our many sins against the eternallove and our guilty squandering of our hearts upon transitorytreasures may be forgiven. He has come amongst us, the Word in humanflesh, that our poor eyes may see the Eternal walking amidst thethings of time and sense, and may discern a beauty in Him beyond'whatsoever things are lovely.' He has come that we through Him maylay hold on God, even as in Him God lays hold on us. As in mysteriousand transcendent union the divine takes into itself the human in thatperson of Jesus, and Eternity is blended with Time; we, trusting Himand yielding our hearts to Him, receive into our poor lives anincorruptible seed, and for us the soul-satisfying realities thatabide for ever mingle with and are reached through the shadows thatpass away.

Brethren, yield yourselves to Him! In conscious unworthiness, in lowlypenitence, let us cast ourselves on Jesus Christ, our Sacrifice, forpardon and peace! Trust Him and love Him! Live by Him and for Him! Andthen, the loftiest thoughts of our hearts, as they seek after absoluteperfection and changeless love, shall be more than fulfilled in Himwho is more than all that man ever dreamed, because He is theperfection of man, and the Son of God.

Love Christ and live in Him, taking Him for the motive, the spring,and the very atmosphere of your lives, and then no capacities willlanguish for lack of either stimulus or field, and no weariness willcome over you, as if you were a stranger from your home. For if Christbe near us, all things go well with us. If we live for Him, the powerof that motive will make all our nature blossom like the vernal woods,and dry branches break into leafa*ge. If we dwell in Him, we shall beat home wherever we are, like the patriarch who pitched his tent inmany lands, but always had the same tent wherever he went. So we shallhave the one abode, though its place in the desert may vary—and weshall not need to care whether the encampment be beneath thepalm-trees and beside the wells of Elim, or amidst the drought ofMarah, so long as the same covering protects us, and the same pillarof fire burns above us.

Love Christ, and then the eternity in the heart will not be a greataching void, but will be filled with the everlasting life which Christgives, and is. The vicissitude will really become the source offreshness and progress which God meant it to be. Everything which,when made our all-sufficient portion, becomes stale and unprofitable,even in its time, will be apparelled in celestial light. It shall allbe lovely and pleasant while it lasts, and its beauty will not besaddened by the certainty of its decay, nor its empty place a painwhen it has passed away.

Take Christ for Saviour and Friend, your Guide and Support throughtime, and Himself, your Eternity and Joy, then all discords arereconciled—and 'all things are yours—whether the world, or life, ordeath, or things present, or things to come; all are yours, and ye areChrist's, and Christ is God's.'

LESSONS FOR WORSHIP AND FOR WORK

'Keep thy foot when thou goest to the house of God, and be more readyto hear, than to give the sacrifice of fools: for they consider notthat they do evil. 2. Be not rash with thy mouth, and let not thineheart be hasty to utter anything before God: for God is in heaven, andthou upon earth; therefore let thy words be few. 3. For a dream comeththrough the multitude of business; and a fool's voice is known bymultitude of words. 4. When thou vowest a vow unto God, defer not topay it; for He hath no pleasure in fools: pay that which thou hastvowed. 5. Better is it that thou shouldest not vow, than that thoushouldest vow and not pay. 6. Suffer not thy mouth to cause thy fleshto sin; neither say thou before the angel, that it was an error:wherefore should God be angry at thy voice, and destroy the work ofthine hands? 7. For in the multitude of dreams and many words thereare also divers vanities: but fear thou God. 8. If thou seest theoppression of the poor, and violent perverting of judgment and justicein a province, marvel not at the matter: for he that is higher thanthe highest regardeth; and there be higher than they. 9. Moreover, theprofit of the earth is for all: the king himself is served by thefield. 10. He that loveth silver shall not be satisfied with silver;nor he that loveth abundance with increase. This is also vanity. 11.When goods increase, they are increased that eat them: and what goodis there to the owners thereof, saving the beholding of them withtheir eyes? 12. The sleep of a labouring man is sweet, whether he eatlittle or much: but the abundance of the rich will not suffer him tosleep.'—ECCLES. v. 1-12.

This passage is composed of two or perhaps three apparentlydisconnected sections. The faults in worship referred to in verses 1-7have nothing to do with the legalised robbery of verse 8, nor has thedemonstration of the folly of covetousness in verses 10-12 anyconnection with either of the preceding subjects. But they are broughtinto unity, if they are taken as applications in different directionsof the bitter truth which the writer sets himself to prove runsthrough all life. 'All is vanity.' That principle may even beexemplified in worship, and the obscure verse 7 which closes thesection about the faults of worship seems to be equivalent to the morefamiliar close which rings the knell of so many of men's pursuits inthis book, 'This also is vanity.' It stands in the usual form in verse10.

We have in verses 1-7 a warning against the faults in worship whichmake even it to be 'vanity,' unreal and empty and fruitless. These areof three sorts, arranged, as it were, chronologically. The worshipperis first regarded as going to the house of God, then as presenting hisprayers in it, and then as having left it and returned to his ordinarylife. The writer has cautions to give concerning conduct before,during, and after public worship.

Note that, in all three parts of his warnings, his favourite word ofcondemnation appears as describing the vain worship to which heopposes the right manner. They who fall into the faults condemned are'fools.' If that class includes all who mar their worship by sucherrors, the church which holds them had need to be of huge dimensions;for the faults held up in these ancient words flourish in fullluxuriance to-day, and seem to haunt long-established Christianityquite as mischievously as they did long-established Judaism. If wecould banish them from our religious assemblies, there would be fewercomplaints of the poor results of so much apparently Christian prayerand preaching.

Fruitful and acceptable worship begins before it begins. So ourpassage commences with the demeanour of the worshipper on his way tothe house of God. He is to keep his foot; that is, to go deliberately,thoughtfully, with realisation of what he is about to do. He is to'draw near to hear' and to bethink himself, while drawing near, ofwhat his purpose should be. Our forefathers Sunday began on Saturdaynight, and partly for that reason the hallowing influence of it ranover into Monday, at all events. What likelihood is there that muchgood will come of worship to people who talk politics or scandal rightup to the church door? Is reading newspapers in the pews, which theytell us in England is not unknown in America, a good preparation forworshipping God? The heaviest rain runs off parched ground, unless ithas been first softened by a gentle fall of moisture. Hearts that haveno dew of previous meditation to make them receptive are not likely todrink in much of the showers of blessing which may be falling roundthem. The formal worshipper who goes to the house of God because it isthe hour when he has always gone; the curious worshipper (?) who drawsnear to hear indeed, but to hear a man, not God; and all the othersorts of mere outward worshippers who make so large a proportion ofevery Christian congregation—get the lesson they need, to begin with,in this precept.

Note, that right preparation for worship is better than worshipitself, if it is that of 'fools.' Drawing near with the true purposeis better than being near with the wrong one. Note, too, the reasonfor the vanity of the 'sacrifice of fools' is that 'they know not';and why do they not know, but because they did not draw near with thepurpose of hearing? Therefore, as the last clause of the verse says,rightly rendered, 'they do evil.' All hangs together. No matter howmuch we frequent the house of God, if we go with unprepared minds andhearts we shall remain ignorant, and because we are so, our sacrificeswill be 'evil.' If the winnowing fan of this principle were applied toour decorous congregations, who dress their bodies for church muchmore carefully than they do their souls, what a cloud of chaff wouldfly off!

Then comes the direction for conduct in the act of worship. The samethoughtfulness which kept the foot in coming to, should keep the heartwhen in, the house of God. His exaltation and our lowliness shouldcheck hasty words, blurting out uppermost wishes, or in any wayoutrunning the sentiments and emotions of prepared hearts. Not thatthe lesson would check the fervid flow of real desire. There is a typeof calm worship which keeps itself calm because it is cold. Proprietyand sobriety are its watchwords—both admirable things, and both dearto tepid Christians. Other people besides the crowds on Pentecostthink that men whose lips are fired by the Spirit of God are'drunken,' if not with wine, at all events with unwholesomeenthusiasm. But the outpourings of a soul filled, not only with thesense that God is in heaven and we on earth, but also with theassurance that He is near to it, and it to Him, are not rash andhasty, however fervid. What is condemned is words which travel fasterthan thoughts or feelings, or which proceed from hearts that have notbeen brought into patient submission, or from such as lack reverentrealisation of God's majesty; and such faults may attach to the mostcalm worship, and need not infect the most fervent. Those prayers arenot hasty which keep step with the suppliant's desires, when thesetake the time from God's promises. That mouth is not rash which waitsto speak until the ear has heard.

'Let thy words be few.' The heathen 'think that they shall be heardfor much speaking.' It needs not to tell our wants in many words toOne who knows them altogether, any more than a child needs many whenspeaking to a father or mother. But 'few' must be measured by thenumber of needs and desires. The shortest prayer, which is notanimated by a consciousness of need and a throb of desire, is toolong; the longest, which is vitalised by these, is short enough. Whatbecomes of the enormous percentage of public and private prayers,which are mere repetitions, said because they are the right thing tosay, because everybody always has said them, and not because the manpraying really wants the things he asks for, or expects to get themany the more for asking?

Verse 3 gives a reason for the exhortation, 'A dream comes through amultitude of business'—when a man is much occupied with any matter,it is apt to haunt his sleeping as well as his waking thoughts. 'Afool's voice comes through a multitude of words.' The dream is theconsequence of the pressure of business, but the fool's voice is thecause, not the consequence, of the gush of words. What, then, is themeaning? Probably that such a gush of words turns, as it were, thevoice of the utterer, for the time being, into that of a fool. Volubleprayers, more abundant than devout sentiments or emotions, make theofferer as a 'fool' and his prayer unacceptable.

The third direction refers to conduct after worship. It lays down thegeneral principle that vows should be paid, and that swiftly. A keeninsight into human nature suggests the importance of prompt fulfilmentof the vows; for in carrying out resolutions formed under the impulseof the sanctuary, even more than in other departments, delays aredangerous. Many a young heart touched by the truth has resolved tolive a Christian life, and has gone out from the house of God and putoff and put off till days have thickened into months and years, andthe intention has remained unfulfilled for ever. Nothing hardenshearts, stiffens wills, and sears consciences so much as to be broughtto the point of melting, and then to cool down into the old shape. Allgood resolutions and spiritual convictions may be included under thename of vows; and of all it is true that it is better not to haveformed them, than to have formed and not performed them.

Verses 6 and 7 are obscure. The former seems to refer to the case of aman who vows and then asks that he may be absolved from his vow by thepriest or other ecclesiastical authority. His mouth—that is, hisspoken promise—leads him into sin, if he does not fulfil it (comp.Deut. xxiii, 21, 22). He asks release from his promise on the groundthat it is a sin of weakness. The 'angel' is best understood as thepriest (messenger), as in Malachi ii.7. Such a wriggling out of a vowwill bring God's anger; for the 'voice' which promised what the handwill not perform, sins.

Verse 7 is variously rendered. The Revised Version supplies at thebeginning, 'This comes to pass,' and goes on 'through the multitude ofdreams and vanities and many words.' But this scarcely bears upon thecontext, which requires here a reason against rash speech and vows.The meaning seems better given, either by the rearranged text whichDelitzsch suggests, 'In many dreams and many words there are also manyvanities' (so, substantially, the Auth. Ver.), or as Wright, followingHitzig, etc., has it, 'In the multitude of dreams are also vanities,and [in] many words [as well].' The simile of verse 3 is recurred to,and the whirling visions of unsubstantial dreams are likened to therash words of voluble prayers in that both are vanity. Thus the writerreaches his favourite thought, and shows how vanity infects evendevotion. The closing injunction to 'fear God' sets in sharp contrastwith faulty outward worship the inner surrender and devotion, whichwill protect against such empty hypocrisy. If the heart is right, thelips will not be far wrong.

Verses 8 and 9 have no direct connection with the preceding, and theirconnection with the following (vs. 10-12) is slight. Their meaning isdubious. According to the prevailing view now, the abuses ofgovernment in verse 8 are those of the period of the writer; and thelast clauses do not, as might appear at first reading, consolesufferers by the thought that God is above rapacious dignitaries, butbids the readers not be surprised if small officials plunder, sincethe same corruption goes upwards through all grades of functionaries.With such rotten condition of things is contrasted, in verse 9, thehappy state of a people living under a patriarchal government, wherethe king draws his revenues, not from oppression, but fromagriculture. The Revised Version gives in its margin this rendering.The connection of these verses with the following may be that theyteach the vanity of riches under such a state of society as theydescribe. What is the use of scraping wealth together when hungryofficials are 'watching' to pounce on it? How much better to becontented with the modest prosperity of a quiet country life! If thetranslation of verse 9 in the Authorised Version and the RevisedVersion is retained, there is a striking contrast between the rapineof the city, where men live by preying on each other (as they do stillto a large extent, for 'commerce' is often nothing better), and thewholesome natural life of the country, where the kindly earth yieldsfruit, and one man's gain is not another's loss.

Thus the verses may be connected with the wise depreciation of moneywhich follows. That low estimate is based on three grounds, whichgreat trading nations like England and the United States need to havedinned into their ears. First, no man ever gets enough of worldlywealth. The appetite grows faster than the balance at the banker's.That is so because the desire that is turned to outward wealth reallyneeds something else, and has mistaken its object. God, not money ormoney's worth, is the satisfying possession. It is so because allappetites, fed on earthly things, increase by gratification, anddemand ever larger draughts. The jaded palate needs strongerstimulants. The seasoned opium-eater has to increase his doses toproduce the same effects. Second, the race after riches is a raceafter a phantom, because the more one has of them the more peoplethere spring up to share them. The poor man does with one servant; therich man has fifty; and his own portion of his wealth is a very smallitem. His own meal is but a small slice off the immense provisions forwhich he has the trouble of paying. It is so, thirdly, because in thechase he deranges his physical nature; and when he has got his wealth,it only keeps him awake at night thinking how he shall guard it andkeep it safe.

That which costs so much to get, which has so little power to satisfy,which must always be less than the wish of the covetous man, whichcosts so much to keep, which stuffs pillows with thorns, is surelyvanity. Honest work is rewarded by sweet sleep. The old legend told ofunslumbering guards who kept the treasure of the golden fruit. Themillionaire has to live in a barred house, and to be always on thelookout lest some combination of speculators should pull down hisstocks, or some change in the current of population should make hiscity lots worthless. Black care rides behind the successful man ofbusiness. Better to have done a day's work which has earned a night'srepose than to be the slave of one's wealth, as all men are who makeit their aim and their supreme good. Would that these lessons wereprinted deep on the hearts of young Englishmen and Americans!

NAKED OR CLOTHED?

'As he came forth of his mother's womb, naked shall he return to go ashe came, and shall take nothing of his labour, which he may carry awayin his hand.'—ECCLES. v. 15.

'… Their works do follow them.'—REV. xiv. 13.

It is to be observed that these two sharply contrasted texts do notrefer to the same persons. The former is spoken of a rich worldling,the latter of 'the dead who die in the Lord.' The unrelieved gloom ofthe one is as a dark background against which the triumphant assuranceof the other shines out the more brightly, and deepens the gloom whichheightens it. The end of the man who has to go away from earth nakedand empty-handed acquires new tragic force when set against the lot ofthose 'whose works do follow them.' Well-worn and commonplace as bothsets of thought may be, they may perhaps be flashed up into newvividness by juxtaposition; and if in this sermon we have nothing newto say, old truth is not out of place till it has been wrought intoand influenced our daily practice. We shall best gather the lessons ofour text if we consider what we must leave, what we must take, andwhat we may take.

I. What we must leave.

The Preacher in the context presses home a formidable array of thelimitations and insufficiencies of wealth. Possessed, it cannotsatisfy, for the appetite grows with indulgence. Its increase barelykeeps pace with the increase of its consumers. It contributes nothingto the advantage of its so-called owner except 'the beholding of itwith his eyes,' and the need of watching it keeps them open when hewould fain sleep. It is often kept to the owner's hurt, it oftendisappears in unfortunate speculation, and the possessor's heirs arepaupers. But, even if all these possibilities are safely weathered,the man has to die and leave it all behind. 'He shall take nothing ofhis labour which he can carry away in his hand'; that is to say, deathseparates from all with whom the life of the body brings us intoconnection. The things which are no parts of our true selves are oursin a very modified sense even whilst we seem to possess them, and theterm of possession has a definite close. 'Shrouds have no pockets,' asthe stern old proverb says. How many men have lived in the houseswhich we call ours, sat on our seats, walked over our lands, carriedin their purses the money that is in ours! Is 'the game worth thecandle' when we give our labour for so imperfect and brief apossession as at the fullest and the longest we enjoy of all earthlygood? Surely a wise man will set little store by possessions of allwhich a cold, irresistible hand will come to strip him. Surely thelife is wasted which spends its energy in robing itself in garmentswhich will all be stripped from it when the naked self 'returns to goas he came.'

But there are other things than these earthly possessions from whichdeath separates us. It carries us far away from the sound of humanvoices and isolates us from living men. Honour and reputation cease tobe audible. When a prominent man dies, what a clatter of conflictingjudgments contends over his grave! and how utterly he is beyond themall! Praise or blame, blessing or banning are equally powerless toreach the unhearing ear or to agitate the unbeating heart. And whenone of our small selves passes out of life, we hear no more the voiceof censure or of praise, of love or of hate. Is it worth while to toilfor the 'hollow wraith of dying fame,' or even for the clasp of lovinghands which have to be loosened so surely and so soon?

Then again, there are other things which must be left behind asbelonging only to the present order, and connected with bodily life.There will be no scope for material work, and much of all ourknowledge will be antiquated when the light beyond shines in. As weshall have occasion to see presently, there is a permanent element inthe most material work, and if in handling the transient we have beenliving for the eternal, such work will abide; but if we think of thespirit in which a sad majority do their daily tasks, whether of a morematerial or of a more intellectual sort, we must recognise that a verylarge proportion of all the business of life must come to an end here.There is nothing in it that will stand the voyage across the greatdeep, or that can survive in the order of things to which we go. Whatis a man to do in another world, supposing there is another world,where ledgers and mills are out of date? Or what has a scholar orscientist to do in a state of things where there is no place fordictionaries and grammars, for acute criticism, or for a carefulscientific research?

Physical science, linguistic knowledge, political wisdom, will beantiquated. The poetry which glorifies afresh and interprets thepresent will have lost its meaning. Half the problems that torture ushere will cease to have existence, and most of the other half willhave been solved by simple change of position. 'Whether there betongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanishaway'; and it becomes us all to bethink ourselves whether there isanything in our lives that we can carry away when all that is 'of theearth earthy' has sunk into nothingness.

II. What we must take.

We must take ourselves. It is the same 'he' who goes 'naked ashe came'; it is the same 'he' who 'came from his mother's womb,' andis 'born again' as it were into a new life, only 'he' has by hisearthly life been developed and revealed. The plant has flowered andfruited. What was mere potentiality has become fact. There is nowfixed character. The transient possessions, relationships, andoccupations of the earthly life are gone, but the man that they havemade is there. And in the character there are predominant habits whichinsist upon having their sway, and a memory of which, as we maybelieve, there is written indelibly all the past. Whatever death maystrip from us, there is no reason to suppose that it touches theconsciousness and personal identity, or the prevailing set andinclination of our characters. And if we do indeed pass into anotherlife 'not in entire forgetfulness, and not in utter nakedness,' butcarrying a perfected memory and clothed in a garment woven of all ourpast actions, there needs no more to bring about a solemn andcontinuous act of judgment.

III. What we may take.

'Their works do follow them.' These are the words of the Spiritconcerning 'the dead who die in the Lord.' We need not fear marringthe great truth that 'not by works of righteousness but by His mercyHe saved us,' if we firmly grasp the large assurance which this textblessedly contains. A Christian man's works are perpetual in themeasure in which they harmonise with the divine will, in the measurethey have eternal consequences in himself whatever they may have onothers. If we live opening our minds and hearts to the influx of thedivine power 'that worketh in us both to will and to do of His goodpleasure,' then we may be humbly sure that these 'works' are eternal;and though they will never constitute the ground of our acceptance,they will never fail to secure 'a great recompence of reward.' To manya humble saint there will be a moment of wondering thankfulness whenhe sees these his 'children whom God hath given him' clustered roundhim, and has to say, 'Lord, when saw I Thee naked, or in prison, andvisited Thee?' There will be many an apocalypse of grateful surprisein the revelations of the heavens. We remember Milton's nobleexplanation of these great words which may well silence our feebleattempts to enforce them—

'Thy works and alms and all thy good endeavour
Stood not behind, nor in the grave were trod,
But as faith pointed with her golden rod,
Followed them up to joy and bliss for ever.'

So then, life here and yonder will for the Christian soul be onecontinuous whole, only that there, while 'their works do follow them,''they rest from their labours.'

FINIS CORONAT OPUS

'Better is the end of a thing than the beginning.'—ECCLES. vii. 8.

This Book of Ecclesiastes is the record of a quest after the chiefgood. The Preacher tries one thing after another, and tells hisexperiences. Amongst these are many blunders. It is the final lessonwhich he would have us learn, not the errors through which he reachedit. 'The conclusion of the whole matter' is what he would commend tous, and to it he cleaves his way through a number of bitterexaggerations and of partial truths and of unmingled errors. The textis one of a string of paradoxical sayings, some of them very true andbeautiful, some of them doubtful, but all of them the kind of thingswhich used-up men are wont to say—the salt which is left in the poolwhen the tide is gone down. The text is the utterance of a wearied manwho has had so many disappointments, and seen so many fair beginningsoverclouded, and so many ships going out of port with flying flags andfoundering at sea, that he thinks nothing good till it is ended;little worth beginning—rest and freedom from all external cares andduties best; and, best of all, to be dead, and have done with thewhole coil. Obviously, 'the end of a thing' here is the parallel to'the day of death' in verse 1, which is there preferred to 'the day ofone's birth.' That is the godless, worn-out worlding's view of thematter, which is infinitely sad, and absolutely untrue.

But from another point of view there is a truth in these words. Thelife which is lived for God, which is rooted in Christ, a life ofself-denial, of love, of purity, of strenuous 'pressing towards themark,' is better in its 'end' than in its 'beginning.' To such a lifewe are all called, and it is possible for each. May my poor words helpsome of us to make it ours.

I. Then our life has an end.

It is hard for any of us to realise this in the midst of the rush andpressure of daily duty; and it is not altogether wholesome to thinkmuch about it; but it is still more harmful to put it out of oursight, as so many of us do, and to go on habitually as if there wouldnever come a time when we shall cease to be where we have been solong, and when there will no more arise the daily calls to transitoryoccupations. The thought of the certainty and nearness of that end hasoften become a stimulus to wild, sensuous living, as the history ofthe relaxation of morality in pestilences, and in times when warstalked through the land, has abundantly shown. 'Let us eat and drink,for tomorrow we die,' is plainly a way of reasoning that appeals tothe average man. But the entire forgetfulness that there is an end isno less harmful, and is apt to lead to over-indulgence in sensuousdesires as the other extreme. Perhaps the young need more especiallyto be recalled to the thought of the 'end' because they are moreespecially likely to forget it, and because it is specially worththeir while to remember it. They have still the long stretch beforethe 'end' before them, to make of it what they will. Whereas for uswho are further on in the course, there is less time and opportunityto shape our path with a view to its close, and to those of us in oldage, there is but little need to preach remembrance of what has comeso close to us. It is to the young man that the Preacher proffers hisfinal advice, to 'rejoice in his health, and to walk in the ways ofhis heart, and in the sight of his eyes,' but withal to know that 'forthese God will bring him into judgment.'

And in that counsel is involved the thought that 'the end which isbetter than the beginning' is neither old age, with its limitationsand compulsory abstinences, nor death, which is, as the dreary creedof the book in its central portions believes it to be, the close ofall things, but, beyond these, the state in which men will reap asthey have sown, and inherit what they have earned. It is thatcondition which gives all its importance to death—the porter whoopens the door into a future life of recompence.

II. The end will, in many respects, not be better than the beginning.

Put side by side the infant and the old man. Think of the undevelopedstrength, the smooth cheek, the ruddy complexion, the rejoicing inphysical well-being, of the one, with the failing senses, thetottering limbs, the lowered vitality, the many pains and aches, ofthe other. In these respects the end is worse than the beginning. Orgo a step further onwards in life, and think of youth, with its unwornenergy, and the wearied longing for rest which comes at the end; ofyouth, with its quick, open receptiveness for all impressions, and thehorny surface of callousness which has overgrown the mind of the old;of youth, with its undeveloped powers and endless possibilities, whichin the old have become rigid and fixed; of youth, with the rich giftbefore it of a continent of time, which in the old has been washedaway by the ocean, till there is but a crumbling bank still to standon; of youth, with its wealth of hopes, and of the hopes of the old,which are solemn ventures, few and scanty—and then say if the end isnot worse than the beginning.

And if we go further, and think of death as the end, is it not in avery real and terrible sense, loss, loss? It is loss to be taken outof the world, to 'leave the warm precincts and the cheerful day,' tolose friends and lovers, and to be banned into a dreary land. Yet,further, the thought of the end as being a state of retributionstrikes upon all hearts as being solemn and terrible.

III. Yet the end may be better.

The sensuous indulgence which Ecclesiastes preaches in its earlierportions will never lead to such an end. It breeds disgust of life, asthe examples of in all ages, and today, abundantly shows. Epicureanselfishness leads to weariness of all effort and work. If we areunwise enough to make either of these our guides in life, the onlydesirable end will be the utter cessation of being and consciousness.

But there is a better sense in which this paradoxical saying is simpletruth, and that sense is one which it is possible for us all torealise. What sort of end would that be, the brightness of which wouldfar outshine the joy when a man-child is born into the world? Would itnot be a birth into a better life than that which fills and oftendisturbs the 'threescore years and ten' here? Would it not be an endto a course in which all our nature would be fully developed and allopportunities of growth and activity had been used to the full? whichhad secured all that we could possess? which had happy memories andcalm hopes? Would it not be an end which brought with it communionwith the Highest—joys that could never fade, activities that couldnever weary? Surely the Christian heaven is better than earth; andthat heaven may be ours.

That supreme and perfect end will be reached by us through faith inChrist, and through union by faith with Him. If we are joined to theLord and are one with Him, our end in glory will be as much betterthan this our beginning on earth as the full glory of a summer's daytranscends the fogs and frosts of dreary winter. 'The path of the justis as the shining light, which shineth more and more unto the perfectday.'

If the end is not better than the beginning, it will be infinitelyworse. Golden opportunities will be gone; wasted years will beirrevocable. Bright lights will be burnt out; sin will be graven onthe memory; remorse will be bitter; evil habits which cannot begratified will torment; a wearied soul, a darkened understanding, arebellious heart, will make the end awfully, infinitely, always worsethan the beginning. From all these Jesus Christ can save us; and, fullas He fills the cup of life as we travel along the road, He keeps thebest wine till the last, and makes 'the end of a thing better than thebeginning.'

MISUSED RESPITE

'Because sentence against an evil work is not executed speedily,therefore the heart of the sons of men is fully set in them to doevil'—ECCLES. viii. 11.

When the Pharaoh of the Exodus saw there was respite, he hardened hisheart. Abject in his fear before Moses, he was ready to promiseanything; insolent in his pride, he swallows down his promises as soonas fear is eased, his repentance and his retractation of it combinedto add new weights about his neck. He was but a conspicuous example ofa universal fault. Every nation, I suppose, has its proverb scoffingat the contrast between the sick man's vow and the recovered man'ssins. The bitter moralist of the Old Testament was sure not to letsuch an instance of man's inconceivable levity pass unnoticed. Hissettled habit of dragging to light the seamy side of human nature wassure to fall on this illustration of it as congenial food. He haswrapped up here in these curt, bitter words a whole theory of man'scondition, of God's providence, of its abuse, and of the end to whichit all tends.

I. Note the delay in executing sentence.

Every 'evil work' is already sentenced. 'He that believeth not,' saidChrist, 'is condemned already'; and that is one case of a generaltruth. The text writes the sentence as passed, though the execution isfor a time suspended. What is the underlying fact expressed by thismetaphor? God's thorough knowledge of, and displeasure at, every evil.When one sees vile things done on earth, and no bolt coming out of theclear sky, it is not easy to believe that all the foulness is known toGod; but His eye reaches further than He wills to stretch His arm. Hesits a silent Onlooker and beholds; the silence does not argueindifference. The sentence is pronounced, but the execution isdelayed. It is not wholly delayed, for there are consequences whichimmediately dog our evil deeds, and are, as it were, premonitions of ayet more complete penalty. But in the present order of things theconnection between a man's evil-doing and suffering is, on the whole,slight, obscure, and partial. Evil triumphs; goodness not seldomsuffers. If one thinks for a moment of the manifold evils of theworld, which swathe it, as it were, in an atmosphere of woe—the wars,the slavery, the oppressions, the private sorrows—and then thinksthat there is a God who lets all these go on from generation togeneration, we seem to be in the presence of a mystery of mysteries.The Psalmist of old exclaimed in adoring wonder, 'Thy judgments are agreat deep'; but the absence of His judgments seems to open aprofounder abyss into which even the great mountains of Hisrighteousness appear in danger of falling.

II. The reasons for this delay.

It is not only a mystery, but it is a 'mystery of love.' We can seebut a little way into it, but we can see so far as to be sure that theapparent passivity of God, which looks like leaving evil to work itsunhindered will, is the silence of a God who 'doth not willinglyafflict,' and is 'slow to anger,' because He is perfect love.

The ground of necessity for the delay in executing the sentence lies,partly, in the probationary character of this present life. Ifevil-doing was always followed by swift retribution, obedience wouldbe only the obedience of fear, and God does not desire such obedience.It would be impossible that testing could go on at all if at everyinstant the whole of the consequences of our actions were beingrealised. Such a condition of things is unthinkable, and would be asconfusing, in the moral sphere, as if harvest weather and springweather were going on together. Again, the great reason why sentenceagainst an evil work is not executed speedily lies in God's own heart,and His desire to win us to Himself by benefits. He does not seekenforced obedience; He neither desires our being wedded to evil, norour being weighed upon by the consequences of our sin, and so He holdsback His hand. It is to be remembered that He not merely does thusrestrain the forthcoming of His hand of judgment, but, instead of it,puts forth a hand of blessing. He moves around us wooing us toHimself, and, in patience possessing His spirit, marks all our sins,but loves and blesses still. He gives us the vineyard, though we donot give Him the fruit. Still He is not angry, but sends Hismessengers, and we stone them. Still He waits: we go on heaping yearupon year of rebellious forgetfulness, and no lightning flashes fromHis eye, no exclamation of wearied-out patience, comes from His lips,no rush of the sudden arrow from His long-stretched bow. The endlesspatience of God has no explanation but only this, that He loves us toowell to leave any means untried to bring us to Him, and that Helingers round us to win our hearts. O rare and unspeakable love, thepatient love of the patient God!

III. The abuse of this delay.

We have the knack of turning God's pure gifts into poison, andpractise a devilish chemistry by which we distil venom from theflowers of Eden and the roses of the garden of God. I don't supposethat to many men the respite which marks God's dealing with themactually tends to doubts of His righteousness, or of His power, or ofHis being. We have evidence enough of these; and the apparentlycounter evidence, arising from the impunity of evil-doers, is fairlyenough laid aside by our moral instincts and consciousness, and by theconsideration that the mighty sweep of God's providence is too greatfor us to decide on the whole circle by the small portion of thecircumference which we have seen. But what most men do is simply thatthey permit impunity to deaden their sense of right and wrong, and goon in their course without any serious thought of God's blessings, tojostle Him out of their mind; they 'despise the riches of Hislong-suffering goodness,' and never suffer it to 'lead them torepentance.' To the unthinking minds of most of us, the longcontinuance of impunity lulls us into a dream of its perpetuity. Man'sgodless ingratitude is as deep a mystery as is God's loving patience.It is strange that, with such constant failure of His love to win, Godshould still persevere in it. For more than seventy times seven Hepersists in forgiving the rebellious child who sins against Him, andfor more than seventy times seven the child persists in the abuse ofthe Father's love, which still remains-an abuse of sin above all sins.

IV. The end of the delay.

The sentence is passed. It is impossible that it should not beexecuted. When God has done all, and sees that the point ofhopelessness is reached, or when the time has for other reasons come,then He lets the sentence take effect. He kept back the destroyingangels from Sodom, but He sent them forth at last. There is a point inthe history of nations and of men when iniquity is 'full,' and whenGod sees that it is best, on world-wide grounds or personal ones, toend it. So there come for nations and for individuals crises; and thelaw for the divine working is, 'A short work will the Lord make on theearth.' For long years Noah was building the ark, and exposed to thescoffs of a generation whose sentence had been pronounced and not yetexecuted; but the day came when he entered into its covert, and 'theflood came and destroyed them all.' For generations He would fain havegathered the people of Jerusalem to His bosom 'as a hen gathereth herchickens under her wings, and they would not'; but the day came whenthe Roman soldiers cast their torches into the beautiful house wheretheir fathers had praised Him, and sinned against Him, and it was leftunto them desolate. Let us not be high-minded nor victims of ourlevity and inconsiderateness, but fear.

Let us remember too that the intensity of the execution is aggravatedby all the sins committed during the delay. By them we 'treasure wrathagainst the day of wrath.' He says to His angels at last 'Now,' andthe sword falls, and justice is done. 'The mills of God grind slowly,but they grind exceeding small.' The sum of the whole matter is, everyevil of ours is sentenced already; the punishment is delayed for oursins, and because Christ has died. God is wooing our hearts, andtrying to win us to love Him by the holding back of the sentence whichwe are daily abusing. Shall we not accept His forbearance and take Hisgifts as tokens of the patient tenderness of His heart? Or are we tobe like 'the brutes that perish,' knowing neither the hand that feedsthem, nor the hand that kills them. The delay in rendering 'the justrecompence of reward' only aggravates its weight when it falls. As insome levers, the slower the motion, the greater the force of the lift.

FENCES AND SERPENTS

'… Whoso breaketh an hedge, a serpent shall bite him.'—ECCLES. x.8.

What is meant here is, probably, not such a hedge as we are accustomedto see, but a dry-stone wall, or, perhaps, an earthen embankment, inthe crevices of which might lurk a snake to sting the careless hand.The connection and purpose of the text are somewhat obscure. It is oneof a string of proverb-like sayings which all seem to be illustrationsof the one thought that every kind of work has its own appropriate andpeculiar peril. So, says the Preacher, if a man is digging a pit, thesides of it may cave in and he may go down. If he is pulling down awall he may get stung. If he is working in a quarry there may be afall of rock. If he is a woodman the tree he is felling may crush him.What then? Is the inference to be, Sit still and do nothing, becauseyou may get hurt whatever you do? By no means. The writer of this bookhates idleness very nearly as much as he does what he calls 'folly,'and his inference is stated in the next verse—'Wisdom is profitableto direct.' That is to say, since all work has its own dangers, workwarily, and with your brains as well as your muscles, and do not putyour hand into the hollow in the wall, until you have looked to seewhether there are any snakes in it. Is that very wholesome maxim ofprudence all that is meant to be learned? I think not. The previousclause, at all events, embodies a well-known metaphor of the OldTestament. 'He that diggeth a pit shall fall into it,' often occurs asexpressing the retribution in kind that comes down on the cunningplotter against other men's prosperity, and the conclusion that wisdomsuggests in that application of the sentence is, 'Dig judiciously,'but 'Do not dig at all.' And so in my text the 'wall' may stand forthe limitations and boundary-lines of our lives, and the inferencethat wisdom suggests in that application of the saying is not 'Pulldown judiciously,' but 'Keep the fence up, and be sure you keep on theright side of it.' For any attempt to pull it down—which beinginterpreted is, to transgress the laws of life which God hasenjoined—is sure to bring out the hissing snake with its poison.

Now it is in that aspect that I want to look at the words before us.

I. First of all, let us take that thought which underlies mytext—that all life is given us rigidly walled up.

The first thing that the child learns is, that it must not do what itlikes. The last lesson that the old man has to learn is, you must dowhat you ought. And between these two extremes of life we are alwaysmaking attempts to treat the world as an open common, on which we maywander at our will. And before we have gone many steps, some sort ofkeeper or other meets us and says to us, 'Trespassers, back again tothe road!' Life is rigidly hedged in and limited. To live as you likeis the prerogative of a brute. To live as you ought, and to recogniseand command by obeying the laws and limitations stamped upon our verynature and enjoined by our circ*mstances, is the freedom and the gloryof a man. There are limitations, I say—fences on all sides. Men putup their fences; and they are often like the wretched wooden hoardingsthat you sometimes see limiting the breadth of a road. But in regardto these conventional limitations and regulations, which own no higherauthority or lawgiver than society and custom, you must make up yourmind even more certainly than in regard of loftier laws, that if youmeddle with them, there will be plenty of serpents coming out to hissand bite. No man that defies the narrow maxims and petty restrictionsof conventional ways, and sets at nought the opinions of the peopleround about him, but must make up his mind for backbiting and slanderand opposition of all sorts. It is the price that we pay for obeyingat first hand the laws of God and caring nothing for theconventionalities of men.

But apart from that altogether, let me just remind you, in half adozen sentences, of the various limitations or fences which hedge upour lives on every side. There are the obligations which we owe, andthe relations in which we stand, to the outer world, the laws ofphysical life, and all that touches the external and the material.There are the relations in which we stand, and the obligations whichwe owe, to ourselves. And God has so made us as that obviously largetracts of every man's nature are given to him on purpose to berestrained, curbed, coerced, and sometimes utterly crushed andextirpated. God gives us our impulses under lock and key. All ouranimal desires, all our natural tendencies, are held on condition thatwe exercise control over them, and keep them well within the rigidlymarked limits which He has laid down, and which we can easily findout. There are, further, the relations in which we stand, and theobligations and limitations, therefore, under which we come, to thepeople round about us. High above them all, and in some senseincluding them all, but loftier than these, there is theall-comprehending relation in which we stand to God, who is thefountain of all obligations, the source and aim of all duty, whoencompasses us on every side, and whose will makes the boundary wallswithin which alone it is safe for a man to live.

We sometimes foolishly feel that a life thus hedged up, limited bythese high boundaries on either side, must be uninteresting,monotonous, or unfree. It is not so. The walls are blessings, like theparapet on a mountain road, that keeps the travellers from topplingover the face of the cliff. They are training-walls, as ourhydro-graphical engineers talk about, which, built in the bed of ariver, wholesomely confine its waters and make a good scour whichgives life, instead of letting them vaguely wander and stagnate acrossgreat fields of mud. Freedom consists in keeping willingly within thelimits which God has traced, and anything else is not freedom butlicence and rebellion, and at bottom servitude of the most abjecttype.

II. So, secondly, note that every attempt to break down thelimitations brings poison into the life.

We live in a great automatic system which, by its own operation,largely avenges every breach of law. I need not remind you, except ina word, of the way in which the transgression of the plain physicallaws stamped upon our constitutions avenges itself; but the certaintywith which disease dogs all breaches of the laws of health is but atype in the lower and material universe of the far higher and moresolemn certainty with which 'the soul that sinneth, it shall die.'Wherever a man sets himself against any of the laws of this materialuniverse, they make short work of him. We command them, as I said, byobeying them; and the difference between the obedience and the breachof them is the difference between the engineer standing on his engineand the wretch that is caught by it as it rushes over the rails. Butthat is but a parable of the higher thing which I want to speak to youabout.

The grosser forms of transgression of the plain laws of temperance,abstinence, purity, bring with them, in like manner, a visible andpalpable punishment in the majority of cases. Whoso pulls down thewall of temperance, a serpent will bite him. Trembling hands, brokenconstitutions, ruined reputations, vanished ambitions, wasted lives,poverty, shame, and enfeebled will, death—these are the serpents thatbite, in many cases, the transgressor. I have a man in my eye at thismoment that used to sit in one of these pews, who came into Manchestera promising young man, a child of many prayers, with the ball at hisfoot, in one of your great warehouses, the only hope of his house,professedly a Christian. He began to tamper with the wall. First atiny little bit of stone taken out that did not show the daylightthrough; then a little bigger, and a bigger. And the serpent struckits fangs into him, and if you saw him now, he is a shambling wreck,outside of society, and, as we sometimes tremblingly think, beyondhope. Young men! 'whoso breaketh an hedge, a serpent shall bite him.'

In like manner there are other forms of 'sins of the flesh avenged inkind,' which I dare not speak about more plainly here. I see manyyoung men in my congregation, many strangers in this great city,living, I suppose, in lodgings, and therefore without many restraints.If you were to take a pair of compasses and place one leg of them downat the Free Trade Hall, and take a circle of half a mile round there,you would get a cavern of rattlesnakes. You know what I mean. Lowtheatres, low music-halls, casinos, haunts of yet viler sorts—therethe snakes are, hissing and writhing and ready to bite. Do not 'putyour hand on the hole of the asp.' Take care of books, pictures,songs, companions that would lead you astray. Oh for a voice to standat some doors that I know in Manchester, and peal this text into theears of the fools, men and women, that go in there!

I heard only this week of one once in a good position in this city,and in early days, I believe, a member of my own congregation, beggingin rags from door to door. And the reason was, simply, the wall hadbeen pulled down and the serpent had struck. It always does; not withsuch fatal external effects always, but be ye sure of this, 'God isnot mocked; "whatsoever a man," or a woman either, "soweth, that shallhe also reap."' For remember that there are other ways of pulling downwalls than these gross and palpable transgressions with the body; andthere are other sorts of retributions which come with unerringcertainty besides those that can be taken notice of by others. I donot want to dwell upon these at any length, but let me just remind youof one or two of them.

Some serpents' bites inflame, some paralyse; and one or other of thesetwo things—either an inflamed conscience or a palsied conscience—isthe result of all wrongdoing. I do not know which is the worst. Thereare men and women now in this chapel, sitting listening to me, perhapshalf interested, without the smallest suspicion that I am talkingabout them. The serpent's bite has led to the torpor of theirconsciences. Which is the worse—to loathe my sin and yet to find itsslimy coils round about me, so that I cannot break it, or to have gotto like it and to be perfectly comfortable in it, and to have noremonstrance within when I do it? Be sure of this, that everytransgression and disobedience acts immediately upon the conscience ofthe doer, sometimes to stir that conscience into agonies of gnawingremorse, more often to lull it into a fatal slumber.

I do not speak of the retributions which we heap upon ourselves inloading our memories with errors and faults, in polluting them oftenwith vile imaginations, or in laying up there a lifelong series ofactions, none of which have ever had a trace of reference to God inthem. I do not speak, except in a sentence, of the retribution whichcomes from the habit of evil which weighs upon men, and makes it allbut impossible for them ever to shake off their sin. I do not speak,except in a sentence, of the perverted relations to God, theincapacity of knowing Him, the disregard, and even sometimes thedislike, of the thought of Him which steal across the heart of the manthat lives in evil and sin; but I put all into two words—every sinthat I do tells upon myself, inasmuch as its virus passes into myblood as guilt and as habit. And then I remind you ofwhat you say you believe, that beyond this world there lies the solemnjudgment-seat of God, where you and I have to give account of ourdeeds. O brother, be sure of this, 'whoso breaketh an hedge'—here andnow, and yonder also—'a serpent shall bite him'!

That is as far as my text carries me. It has nothing more to say. Am Ito shut the book and have done? There is only one system that hasanything more to say, and that is the gospel of Jesus Christ.

III. And so, passing from my text, I have to say, lastly, All thepoison may be got out of your veins if you like.

Our Lord used this very same metaphor under a different aspect, andwith a different historical application, when He said, 'As Moseslifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man belifted up, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but haveeternal life.'

There is Christ's idea of the condition of this world of ours—a campof men lying bitten by serpents and drawing near to death. What I havebeen speaking about, in perhaps too abstract terms, is the conditionof each one of us. It is hard to get people, when they are gathered bythe hundred to listen to a sermon flung out in generalities, torealise it. If I could get you one by one, and 'buttonhole' you; andinstead of the plural 'you' use the singular 'thou,' perhaps I couldreach you. But let me ask you to try and realise each for himself thatthis serpent bite, as the issue of pulling down the wall, is trueabout each soul in this place, and that Christ endorsed therepresentation. How are we to get this poison out of the blood? Reformyour ways? Yes; I say that too; but reforming the life will deliverfrom the poison in the character, when you cure hydrophobia by washingthe patient's skin, and not till then. It is all very well to repaperyour dining-rooms, but it is very little good doing that if thedrainage is wrong. It is the drainage that is wrong with usall. A man cannot reform himself down to the bottom of his sinfulbeing. If he could, it does not touch the past. That remains the same.If he could, it does not affect his relation to God. Repentance—if itwere possible apart from the softening influence of faith in JesusChrist—repentance alone would not solve the problem. So far as mencan see, and so far as all human systems have declared, 'What I havewritten I have written.' There is no erasing it. The irrevocable paststands stereotyped for ever. Then comes in this message of forgivenessand cleansing, which is the very heart of all that we preachers haveto say, and has been spoken to most of you so often that it is almostimpossible to invest it with any kind of freshness or power. But oncemore I have to preach to you that Christ has received into His owninmost life and self the whole gathered consequences of a world's sin;and by the mystery of His sympathy, and the reality of His mysteriousunion with us men, He, the sinless Son of God, has been made sin forus, that we might be made the righteousness of God in Him. The brazenserpent lifted on the pole was in the likeness of the serpent whosepoison slew, but there was no poison in it. Christ has come, thesinless Son of God, for you and me. He has died on the Cross, theSacrifice for every man's sin, that every man's wound might be healed,and the poison cast out of his veins. He has bruised the malignant,black head of the snake with His wounded heel; and because He has beenwounded, we are healed of our wounds. For sin and death launched theirlast dart at Him, and, like some venomous insect that can sting onceand then must die, they left their sting in His wounded heart, andhave none for them that put their trust in Him.

So, dear brother, here is the simple condition—namely, faith. Onelook of the languid eye of the poisoned man, howsoever bloodshot anddim it might be, and howsoever nearly veiled with the film of death,was enough to make him whole. The look of our consciously sinful soulsto that dear Christ that has died for us will take away the guilt, thepower, the habit, the love of evil; and, instead of blood saturatedwith the venom of sin, there will be in our veins the Spirit of lifein Christ, which will 'make us free from the law of sin and death.''Look unto Him and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth!'

THE WAY TO THE CITY

'The labour of the foolish wearieth every one of them, because heknoweth not how to go to the city.'—ECCLES. x. 15.

On the surface this seems to be merely a piece of homely, practicalsagacity, conjoined with one of the bitter things which Ecclesiastesis fond of saying about those whom he calls 'fools.' It seems torepeat, under another metaphor, the same idea which has been presentedin a previous verse, where we read: 'If the iron be blunt, and he donot whet the edge, then must he put to more strength; but wisdom isprofitable to direct.' That is to say, skill is better than strength;brain saves muscle; better sharpen your axe than put yourself into aperspiration, hitting fierce blows with a blunt one. The prerogativeof wisdom is to guide brute force. And so in my text the same generalidea comes under another figure. Immense effort may end in nothing buttired feet if the traveller does not know his road. A man lost in thewoods may run till he drops, and find himself at night in the placefrom which he started in the morning. The path must be known, and theaim clear, if any good is to come of effort.

That phrase, 'how to go to the city,' seems to be a kind of proverbialcomparison for anything that is very plain and conspicuous, just asour forefathers used to say about any obvious truth, that it was 'asplain as the road to London town.' The road to the capital is sure tobe a well-marked one, and he must be a fool indeed who cannot seethat. So our text, though on the surface, as I say, is simply asarcasm and a piece of homely, practical sagacity, yet, like almostall the sayings in this Book of Ecclesiastes, it has a deeper meaningthan appears on the surface; and may be applied in higher and moreimportant directions. It carries with it large truths, and enshrinesin a vivid metaphor bitter experiences which, I suppose, we can allconfirm.

I. We consider, first, the toil that tires.

'The labour wearies every one of them.' The word translated 'labour'seems to carry with it both the idea of effort and of trouble. Or torecur to a familiar distinction in modern English, the word reallycovers both the ground of work and of worry. And it is a sad andsolemn thought that a word with that double element in it should bethe one which is most truly applicable to the efforts of a largemajority of men. I suppose there never was a time in the world'shistory when life went so fast as it does in these great centres ofcivilisation and commerce in which you and I live. And it is awful tohave to think that the great mass of it all ends in nothing else buttired limbs and exhaustion. That is a truth to be verified byexperience, and I am bold to believe that every man and woman in thischapel now can say more or less distinctly 'Amen!' to the assertionthat every life, except a distinctly and supremely religious one, isworry and work without adequate satisfying result, and with no lastingissue but exhaustion.

Let us begin at the bottom. For instance, take a man who has avowedlyflung aside the restraints of right and wrong and conscience, and doesthings habitually that he knows to be wrong. Every sin is a blunder aswell as a crime. No man who aims at an end through the smoke of hellgets the end that he aims at. Or if he does, he gets something thattakes all the gilt off the gingerbread, and all the sweetness out ofthe success. They put a very evil-tasting ingredient into spirits ofwine to prevent its being drunk. The cup that sin reaches to a man,though the wine moveth itself aright and is very pleasant to look atbefore being tasted, cheats with methylated spirits. Men andwomen take more pains and trouble to damn themselves than ever they doto have their souls saved. The end of all work, which begins withtossing conscience on one side, is simply this—'The labour of thefoolish wearieth every one of them.'

Take a step higher—a respectable, well-to-do Manchester man,successful in business. He has made it his aim to build up a largeconcern, and has succeeded. He has a fine house, carriages,greenhouses; he has 'J.P.' to his name; he stands high in credit andon Change. His name is one that gives respectability to anything thatit is connected with. Has he 'come to the city'? Has he got what hethought he would get when he began his career? He has succeeded in hisimmediate and smaller purpose; has that immediate and smaller purposesucceeded in bringing him what he thought it would bring him? Or hashe fallen a victim to those—

'juggling fiends …
That palter with us in a double sense;
That keep the word of promise to the ear,
And break it to the hope?'

They tell us that if you put down in one column the value of the orethat has been extracted from all the Australian gold-mines, and inanother the amount that it has cost to get it, the latter sum willexceed the former. There are plenty of people in Manchester who haveput more down into the pit from which they dig their wealth than everthey will get out of it. And their labour, too, leaves a very dark andempty aching centre in their lives, 'and wearieth every one of them.'And so I might go the whole round. We students, so long as our pursuitof knowledge has not in it as supreme, directing motive, and ultimateaim and issue, the glory and the service of God, come under the lashof the same condemnation as those grosser and lower forms of life ofwhich I have been speaking. But wherever we look, if there be not inthe heart and in the life a supreme regard to God and a communion withHim, then this characteristic is common to all the courses, that,whilst they may each meet some immediate and partial necessity of ournatures, none of them is adequate for the whole circumference of aman's being, nor any of them able, during the whole duration of thatbeing, to be his satisfaction and his rest. Therefore, I say, alltoil, however successful to the view of a shorter range of vision, andhowever noble—excluding the noblest of all—all toil that ends onlyin securing that which perishes with the using, or that which we leavebehind us here when we pass hence, is condemned for folly and labourthat wearies the men who are fools enough to surrender themselves toit.

I need not remind you of the wonderful variety of metaphor under whichthat threadbare thought, which yet it is so hard for us to believe andmake operative in our lives, is represented to us in Scripture. Justlet me recall one or two of them in the briefest way. 'Why do ye spendyour money for that which is not bread, and your labour for that whichprofiteth not?' 'They have hewn for themselves cisterns, brokencisterns that can hold no water.' 'Their webs shall not becomegarments.' That may want a word of explanation. The metaphor is this.You are all like spiders spinning carefully and diligently your web.There is not substance enough in it to make a coat out of. You willnever cover yourselves with the product of your own brains or your ownefforts. There is no clothing in the spider's webs of a godless life.

Ah! brother, all these earthly aims which some of my friends listeningto me now have for the sole aims of their lives, are as foolishand as inadequate to accomplish that which is sought for by them, asit would be to seek to quench raging thirst by lifting to the lips agolden cup that is empty. Some of us have a whole sideboard full ofsuch, and vary our pursuits according to inclination and task. Some ofus have only one such, but they are all empty, and the lip is parchedafter the cup has been lifted to it as it was before.

II. And so, consider now, secondly, the foolish ignorance that makesthe toil tiresome.

The metaphor of my text says that the reason why the 'fool' is sowearied after the day's march is that he does not in the morningsettle where he is going, and how he is to get there; and so, havingstarted to go nowhither, he has got where he started for. He 'does notknow how to go to the city'—which, being translated into plain andunmetaphorical English, is just this, that many men wreck their livesfor want of a clear sight of their true aim, and of the way to secureit.

There is nothing more tragical than the absence, in the great bulk ofmen, of anything like deliberate, definite views as to their aim inlife, and the course to be taken to secure it. There are two thingsobviously necessary for success in any enterprise. One is, that thereshall be the most definite and clear conception of what is aimed at;and the other, that there shall be a wisely considered plan to get atit. Unless there be these, if you go at random, running a little wayfor a moment in this direction, and then heading about and going inthe other, you cannot expect to get to the goal.

Now, what I want to ask some of my friends here is, Did you ever giveten deliberate minutes to try to face for yourselves, and put intoplain words, what you are living for, and how you mean to secure it?Of course I know that you have given thought and planning in plenty tothe nearer aims, without which material life cannot be lived at all. Ido not suppose that anybody here is chargeable with not having thoughtenough about how to get on in business, or in their chosen walk oflife. It is not that kind of aim which I mean at all; but it is apoint beyond it that I want to press upon you. You are like men whowould carefully victual a ship and take the best information for theirguide as to what course to lie, and had never thought what they weregoing to do when they got to the port. So you say, 'I am going to besuch-and-such a thing.' Well, what then? 'Well, I am going to laymyself out for success.' Be it commercial, be it intellectual, be itsocial, be it in the sphere of the affections, or whatever it may be.Well, what then? 'Well, then I am going to advance in materialprosperity, I hope, or in wisdom, or to be surrounded by loving facesof children and those that are dear to me.' What then? 'Then I amgoing to die.' What then?

It is not till you get to that last question, and have faced it andanswered it, that you can be said to have taken the whole sweep of thecirc*mstances into view, and regulated your course according to thedictates of common sense and right reason. And a terribly large numberof us live with careful adaptation of means to ends in regard of allthe smaller and more immediately to be realised aims of life, but havenever faced the larger question which reduces all these smaller aimsto insignificance. The simple child's interrogation which in thewell-known ballad ripped the tinsel off the skeleton, and showed warin its hideousness, strips many of your lives of all pretence to bereasonable. 'What good came of it at the last?' Can you answer thequestion that the infant lips asked, and say, 'This good will come ofit at last. That I shall have God for my own, and Jesus Christ in myheart'?

Brother! if I could only get you to this point, that you would takehalf an hour now to think over what you ought to be, and to askyourself whether your aims in life correspond to what your aims shouldbe, I should have done more than I am afraid I shall do with some ofyou. The naturalist can tell when he picks up a skeleton something ofthe habits and the element of the creature to which it belonged. If ithas a hollow sternum he knows it is meant to fly. On yournature is impressed unmistakably that your destiny is not to creep,but to soar. Not in vain does the Westminster Catechism lay thefoundation of everything in this, the prime question for all men,'What is the chief end of man?' Ask that, and do not rest till youhave answered it.

Then there is another idea connected with this ignorance of mytext—viz. that it is the result of folly. Now the words 'folly' and'foolish' and 'foolishness,' and their opposites, 'wisdom' and 'wise,'in this Book of Ecclesiastes, as in the Book of Proverbs, do not meanmerely dull stupidity intellectually, which is a thing for which a manis to be pitied rather than to be blamed, but they always carrybesides the idea of intellectual defect, also the idea of moralobliquity. 'The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom'; and,conversely, the absence of that fear is the foundation of that whichthis writer stigmatises as 'folly' He is not merely sneering at menwith small brains and little judgments. There may be plenty of us whoare so, and yet are wise unto salvation and possessed of a far higherwisdom than that of this world. But he tells us that so strangelyintertwined are the intellectual and moral parts of our nature, thatwheresoever there is the obscuration of the latter there is sure to bethe perversion of the former, and the man knows not 'how to go to thecity' because he is 'foolish.'

That is to say, you go wrong in your judgment about your conductbecause you have gone wrong morally. And your blunders about life, andyour ignorance of its true end and aim, and your mistakes as to how tosecure happiness and blessedness, are your own faults, and are owingto the aversion of your nature from that which is highest and noblest,even God and His service. Therefore you are not only to be pitiedbecause you are out of the road, but to be blamed because you havedarkened the eyes of your mind by loving the darkness rather than thelight. And you 'do not know how to go to the city,' because you do notwant to go to the city, and would rather huddle here in thewilderness, and live upon its poor supplies, than pass within thegolden gates. My brethren! the folly which blinds a man to his trueaim and mission in life is a folly which has in it the darker aspectof sin, and is punishable as such.

III. Lastly, note the plain path which the foolish miss.

He 'does not know how to go to the city.' What on earth will he beable to see if he cannot see that broad highway, beaten and white,stretching straight before him, over hill and dale, and going right tothe gates? A man must be a fool who cannot find the way to London.

The principles of moral conduct are trite and obvious. It is plainthat it is better to be good than bad. It is better to be unselfishthan selfish. It is better not to live for things that perish, seeingthat we are going to last for ever. It is better not to make the fleshour master here, seeing that the spirit will have to live without theflesh some day. It is better to get into training for the world tocoma, seeing that we are all drifting thither. All these things areplain and obvious.

Man's destiny for God is unmistakable. 'Whose image and superscriptionhath it?' said Christ about the coin. 'Caesar's!' 'Then give it toCaesar.' Whose image and superscription hath my heart, this restlessheart of mine, this spirit that wanders on through space and time,homeless and comfortless, until it can grasp the Eternal? Who are youmeant for? God! And every fibre of your nature has a voice to say soto you if you listen to it. So, then, a godless life such as some ofyou, my hearers, are contentedly living, ignores facts that are mostpatent to every man's experience. And while before you, huge 'as amountain, open, palpable,' are the commonplaces and undeniableverities which declare that every man who is not a God-fearing man isa fool, you admit them all, and, bowing your heads in reverence, letthem all go over you and produce no effect.

The road is clearer than ever since Jesus Christ came. He has shown usthe city, for He has brought life and immortality to light by theGospel. He has shown us the road, for His life is the pattern of allthat men ought to aim at and to be. The motto of the eternal Son ofGod, if I may venture upon such a metaphor, is like the motto of theheir-apparent of the English throne, 'I serve.' Lo! 'I come to do Thywill'—and that is the only word which will make a human life peacefuland strong and beautiful. In the presence of His radiant and solitaryperfection, men no longer need to wonder, What is the ideal to whichconduct and character should be conformed? And Jesus Christ has cometo make it possible to go to the city, by that cross on which He borethe burden of all sin, and takes away the sin of the world, and bythat Spirit of life which He will impart to our weakness, and whichmakes our sluggish feet run in the way of His commandments, and not beweary, and walk and not faint.

Take that dear Lord for your revelation of duty, for your Pattern ofconduct, for the forgiveness of your sins, for the Inspirer with powerto do His will, and then you will see stretching before you, high upabove the surrounding desert, so that no lion nor ravenous beast shallgo up there, the highway on which the ransomed of the Lord shall walk,'and the wayfaring man, though a fool, shall not err therein.''Blessed are they that wash their robes, that they may enter inthrough the gates into the City.'

A NEW YEARS SERMON TO THE YOUNG

'Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth, and let thy heart cheer thee inthe days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in thesight of thine eyes: but know thou, that for all these things God willbring thee into judgment…. Remember now thy Creator in the days ofthy youth, while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, whenthou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them.'—ECCLES. xi. 9; xii. 1.

This strange, and in some places perplexing Book of Ecclesiastes, isintended to be the picture of a man fighting his way throughperplexities and half-truths to a clear conviction in which he canrest. What he says in his process of coming to that conviction is notalways to be taken as true. Much that is spoken in the earlier portionof the Book is spoken in order to be confuted, and its insufficiency,its exaggerations, its onesidedness, and its half-truths, to bemanifest in the light of the ultimate conclusion to which he comes.Through all these perplexities he goes on 'sounding his dim andperilous way,' with pitfalls on this side of him and bogs on that,till he comes out at last upon the open way, with firm ground underfoot and a clear sky overhead. These phrases which I have taken arethe opening sentences and the final conclusion on which he rests. Howthen are they meant to be understood? Is that saying, 'Rejoice, Oyoung man! in the days of thy youth, and let thy heart cheer thee inthe days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thine heart and in thesight of thine eyes,' to be taken as a bit of fierce irony? Is this aman taking the maxims of the foolish world about him and seeming toapprove of them in order that he may face round at the end with aquick turn and a cynical face and hand them back their maxims alongwith that which will shatter them to pieces—as if he said, 'Oh, yes!go on, talk your fill about making the best of this world, andrejoicing and doing as you like, dancing on the edge of a precipice,and fiddling, like Nero, whilst a worse fire than that of Rome isburning'? Well, I do not think that is the meaning of it. Though thereis irony to be found in the Bible, I do not think that fierce ironylike that which might do for the like of Dean Swift, is the intentionof the Preacher. So I take these words to be said in good faith, as afrank recognition of the fact that, after all we have been hearingabout vanity and vexation of spirit, life is worth living for, andthat God means young people to be glad and to make the best of thefleeting years that will never come back with the same buoyancy andelasticity all their lives long. And then I take it that the wordsadded are not meant to destroy or neutralise the concession of thefirst sentence, but only to purify and ennoble a gladness which,without them, would be apt to be stained by many a corruption, and tomake permanent a joy which, without them, would be sure to die downinto the miserable, peevish, and feeble old age of which the grimpicture follows, and to be quenched at last in death. So there arethree words that I take out of this text of mine, and that I want tobring before my young friends as exhortations which it is wise tofollow. These are Rejoice, Reflect, Remember. Rejoice—the fittinggladness of youth; reflect—the solemn thought that will guard thegladness from stain; remember—the religion which will make thesethings ever last.

First of all 'Rejoice.' Do as you like, for that is the Englishtranslation of the words, 'Walk in the ways of thine heart and in thesight of thine eyes.' Buoyantly and cheerfully follow the inclinationsand the desires which are stamped upon your nature and belong to yourtime of life. All young things are joyful, from the lamb in thepastures upwards, and are meant to be so. The mere bounding sense ofphysical strength which leads so many of you young men astray is agood thing and a blessed thing—a blessing to be thankful for and tocherish. Your smooth cheeks, so unlike those of old age, are only anemblem of the comparative freedom from care which belongs to yourhappy condition. Your memories are not yet like some—a book writtenwithin and without with the records of mourning and disappointment andcrosses. There are in all probability long years stretching beforeyou, instead of a narrow strip of barren sand, before you come to thegreat salt sea that is going to swallow you up, as is the case withsome of us. Christianity looks with complacency on your gladness, anddoes not mean to clip the wing of one white-winged pleasure, or tobreathe one glimmer of blackness on your atmosphere. You are meant tobe glad, but it is gladness in a far higher sense that I want tosecure for you, or rather to make you secure for yourselves. Goddelights in the prosperity and light-hearted buoyancy of His children,especially of His young children. Ah! but I know there are young livesover which poverty or ill-health or sorrows of one kind or anotherhave cast a gloom as incongruous to your time of life as snow in thegarden in the spring, that pinches the crocuses and weighs down younggreen beech-leaves, would be. And if I am speaking to any young man oryoung woman at this time who by reason of painful outwardcirc*mstances has had but a chilling spring and youth, I would say tothem, 'don't lose heart'; a cloudy morning often breaks into a perfectday. It is good for a man to have to 'bear the yoke in his youth,' andif you miss joy, you may get grace and strength and patience, whichwill be a blessing to you all your days. For all that, the ordinarycourse of things is that the young should be glad, and that the younglife should be as the rippling brook in the sunshine. I want to leaveupon your minds this impression, that it is all right and all in theorder of God's providence, who means every one of you to rejoice inthe days of your youth. The text says further, 'Walk in the ways ofthine heart.' That sounds very like the unwholesome teaching, 'Follownature; do as you like; let passions and tastes and inclinations beyour guides.'

Well, that needs to be set round with a good many guards to prevent itbecoming a doctrine of devils. But for all that, I wish you to noticethat that has a great and a religious side to it. You have come intopossession of this mystical life of yours, a possession which requiresthat you must choose what kind of life you will follow. Every one hasthis awful prerogative of being able to walk in the way of theirheart. You have to answer for the kind of way that is, and the kind ofheart out of which it has come. But I want to go to more importantthings, and so with a clear understanding that the joy of youth is allright and legitimate, that you are intended to be glad, and to feelthe physical and intellectual spring and buoyancy of early days, letus go on to the next thing. 'Rejoice,' says my text, and it adds,'Reflect.' It is one of the blessings of your time of life, my youngfriends, that you do not do much of that. It is one of your happyimmunities that you are not yet in the habit of looking at life as awhole, and considering actions and consequences. Keep that spontaneityas long as you can; it is a good thing to keep. But for all that, donot forget this awful thing, that it may turn to exaggeration andexcess, and that it needs, like all other good things, to be guardedand rightly used. And so, 'Rejoice,' and 'walk in the sight of thineeyes'; but—'know that for all these things God will bring theeto judgment.' Well, now, is that thought to come in (I was going tosay, like a mourning-coach driven through a wedding procession) tokill the joys we have been seeming to receive from the former words?Are we taking back all that we have been giving, and giving outinstead something that will make them all cower and be quiet, like thesinging birds that stop their singing and hide in the leaves when theysee the kite in the sky? No, there is no need for anything of thesort. 'For all these things God will bring thee to judgment': that isnot the thought that kills, but that purifies and ennobles. Regardbeing had to the opinions expressed at various points in the earlierportion of this Book, we may be allowed to think of this testimony ashaving reference to the perpetual judgment that is going on in thisworld always over every man's life. A great German thinker has it, inreference to the history of nations, that the history of the world isthe judgment of the world, and although that is not true if it is adenial of a physical day of judgment, it is true in a very profoundand solemn sense with regard to the daily life of every man, thatwhether there be a judgment-seat beyond the grave or not, and whetherthis Preacher knew anything about that or no, there is going onthrough the whole of a man's life, and evolving itself, this solemnconviction, that we are to pass away from this present life. All ourdays are knit together as one whole. Yesterday is the parent of today,and today is the parent of all the tomorrows. The meaning and thedeepest consequence of man's life is that no feeling, no thought thatflits across the mirror of his life and heart dies utterly, leavingnothing behind it. But rather the metaphor of the Apostle is the trueone, 'That which thou sowest, that shalt thou also reap.' All yourlife a seed-time, all your life a harvest-time too, for the seed whichI sow today is the seed which I have reaped from all my formersowings, and so cause and consequence go rolling on in life inextricable entanglement, issuing out in this, that whatever a man doeslives on in him, and that each moment inherits the whole consequenceof his former life. And now, you young men and women, you boys andgirls, mind! this seed-time is the one that will be most powerful inyour lives, and there is a judgment you do not need to die to meet. Ifyou are idle at school, you will never learn Latin when you go tobusiness. If you are frivolous in your youth, if you stain your soulsand soil your lives by outward coarse sin here in Manchester in youryoung days, there will be a taint about you all your lives. You cannotget rid of that brave law that 'Whatever a man sows, that, thirtyfold,sixtyfold, an hundredfold, that shall he also reap'—the same kind,but infinitely multiplied in quantity. Let me therefore name some ofthe ways in which your joys or pleasures, as lads, as boys and girls,as growing young men and women, will bring you to judgment. Health,that is one; position, that is two; reputation, that is three;character, that is four. Did you ever see them build one of thosehouses they make in some parts of the country, with concrete insteadof stones? Take a spadeful of the mud, and put it into a frame on thewall. When it is dry, take away the frame and the supports, and ithardens into rock. You take your single deeds—the mud sometimes,young men!—pop them on the wall, and think no more about it. Ay, butthey stop there and harden there, and lo! a character—a house foryour soul to live in—health, position, memory, capacity, and allthat. If you have not done certain things which you ought to havedone, you will never be able to do them, and there are the materialsfor a judgment. That is going on every moment, and especially is itgoing on in the region of your pleasures. If they are unworthy, youare unworthy; if they are gross, and coarse, and low, and animal, theyare dragging you down; if they are frivolous and foolish, they aremaking you a poor butterfly of a creature that is worth nothing andwill be of no good to anybody; if they are pure, and chaste, andlofty, and virginal and white, they will make your souls good andgracious and tender with the tenderness and beauty of God.

But that is not all. I am not going to travel beyond the limits ofthis present life with any words of mine, but as I read this finalconclusion in this Book of Ecclesiastes, I think I can perceive thatthe doubts and the scepticisms about a future life, and the differencebetween a man and a beast which are spoken of in the earlier chapters,have all been overcome, and the clear conviction of the writer isexpressed in these twofold great sayings: 'The spirit shall returnunto God who gave it, and the words with which He stamps all Hismessage upon our hearts, the final words of His book'; 'God shallbring every work into judgment with every secret thing.' And I come toyou and say, 'I suppose you believe in a state of retribution beyond?'I suppose that most of the young folk I am speaking to now at allevents believe that 'Thou wilt come to be our judge,' as the TeDeum has it; and that it is this same personal self of mine thatis to stand there who is sitting here? God shall bring theeinto judgment. Never mind what is to come of the body, the quivering,palpitating, personal centre. The very same self that I know myself tobe will be carried there. Now, take that with you and lay it to heart,and let it have a bearing on your pleasure. It will kill nothing thatdeserves to live, it will take no real joy out of a man's life. Itwill only strain out the poison that would kill you. You turn thatthought upon your heart, my friends. Is it like a policeman'sbull's-eye turned upon a lot of bad characters hiding under a railwayarch in the corner there? If so, the sooner you get rid of thepleasures and inclinations that slink away when that beam of lightstrikes their ugly faces, the better for yourselves and for yourlives. 'Rejoice in the way of thine heart and, that thy joy may bepure, know that for all this God will bring thee into judgment.'

And now my last word, 'Remember God,' says my text. The former twosayings, if taken by themselves, would make a very imperfect guide tolife. Self-indulgence regulated by the thought of retribution is avery low kind of life after all. There is something better in thisworld, and that is work; something higher, and that is duty; somethingnobler than self-indulgence, and that is self-sacrifice. And so noreligion worthy the name contents itself by saying to a man, 'Be goodand you will be glad'; but, 'Never mind whether you are glad; be goodat any rate, and such gladness as is good for you will come to you,and you can want the rest.' 'Remember thy Creator in the days of thyyouth.' Recall God to your thoughts, and keep Him in your mind all theday long. That is wonderfully unlike your life, is it not? Rememberthy Creator; shift the centre of your life. What I have been sayingmight be true of a man, the centre of whose life was himself, and sucha man is next door to a devil, for, I suppose, the definition of devilis 'self-engrossed still,' and whosoever lives for himself is dead.Don't let the earth be the centre of your system, but the sun. Do notlive to yourselves, or your pleasures will all be ignoble andcreeping, but live to God. 'Remember.' Well, then, you and I know agood deal more about God than the writer of the Book of Ecclesiastesdid—both about what He is and how to remember Him. I am not going tocontent myself by taking his point of view, but I must take a farhigher and a far better one. If he had been here he would have said'Remember God.' He would have said, 'Look at God in Jesus Christ, andtrust Him and love Him; go to Him as your Saviour, and take all theburden of your past sin and lay it upon His merciful shoulders, andfor His dear sake look for forgiveness and cleansing; and then for Hisdear sake live to serve and bless Him. Never mind about yourself, anddo not think much about your gladness. Follow in the footsteps of Himwho has shown us that the highest joy is to give oneself utterly away.Love Jesus Christ and trust Him and serve Him, and that will make allyour gladness permanent.' There is one thing I want to teach you. Lookat that description, or rather read when you go home the descriptionwhich follows my text, of that wretched old man who has got no hope inGod and no joy, feeble in body, going down to the grave, and dying outat last. That is what rejoicing in the days of thy youth, and walkingin the ways of thine own heart, come to when you do not remember God.There is nothing more miserable on the face of this earth than anill-conditioned old man, who is ill-conditioned because he has losthis early joys and early strength, and has got nothing to make up forthem. How many of your joys, my dear young friends, will last when oldage comes to you? How many of them will survive when your eye is nolonger bright, and your hand no longer strong, and your foot no longerfleet? How many of them, young woman! when the light is out of youreye, and the beauty and freshness out of your face and figure, whenyou are no longer able for parties, when it is no longer a pastime toread novels, and when the ballroom is not exactly the place foryou,—how many of your pleasures will survive? Young man! how many ofyours will last when you can no longer go into dissipation, andstomach and system will no longer stand fast living, nor athletics,and the like? Oh! let me beseech thee, go to the ant and consider herways, who in the summer layeth up for the winter; and do ye likewisein the days of your youth, store up for yourselves that which knows nochange and laughs at the decay of flesh and sense. A thousand motivescoincide and press on my memory if I had words and time to speak them.Let me beseech you—especially you young men and women of thiscongregation, of some of whom I may venture to speak as a father tohis children, whom I have seen growing up, as it were, from yourmothers' arms, and the rest of you whom I do not know so well—Oh!carry away with you this beseeching entreaty of mine at the end. LoveJesus Christ and trust to Him as your Saviour; serve Him as yourCaptain and your King in the days of your youth. Do not offer Him thefa*g end of a life—the last inch of the candle that is burning downinto the socket. Do it now, for the moments are flying, and you maynever have Him offered to you any more. If there is any softening, anytouch of conscience in your heart, yield to the impulse and do notstifle it. Take Christ for your Saviour, take Him now—'Now is theaccepted time, now is the day of salvation.'

THE CONCLUSION OF THE MATTER

'Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, while the evildays come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have nopleasure in them; 2. While the sun, or the light, or the moon, or thestars, be not darkened, nor the clouds return after the rain; 3. Inthe day when the keepers of the house shall tremble, and the strongmen shall bow themselves, and the grinders cease because they are few,and those that look out of the windows be darkened, 4. And the doorsshall be shut in the streets, when the sound of the grinding is low,and he shall rise up at the voice of the bird, and all the daughtersof musick shall be brought low; 5. Also when they shall be afraid ofthat which is high, and fears shall be in the way, and the almond treeshall flourish, and the grasshopper shall be a burden, and desireshall fail: because man goeth to his long home, and the mourners goabout the streets: 6. Or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the goldenbowl be broken, or the pitcher be broken at the fountain, or the wheelbroken at the cistern. 7. Then shall the dust return to the earth asit was: and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it…. 13. Letus hear the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God, and keep Hiscommandments: for this is the whole duty of man. 14. For God shallbring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it begood, or whether it be evil.'—ECCLES. xii. 1-7,13,14.

The Preacher has passed in review 'all the works that are done underthe sun,' and has now reached the end of his long investigation. Ithas been a devious path. He has announced many provisionalconclusions, which are not intended for ultimate truths, but ratherrepresent the progress of the soul towards the final, sufficientground and object of belief and aim of all life, even God Himself.'Vanity of vanities' is a cheerless creed and a half-truth. Itscompletion lies in being driven, by recognising vanity as stamped onall creatures, to clasp the one reality. 'All is vanity' apart fromGod, but He is fullness, and possessed and enjoyed and endured in Him,life is not 'a striving after wind.' Leave out this last section, andthis book of so-called 'Wisdom' is one-sided and therefore error, asis modern pessimism, which only says more feebly what the Preacher hadsaid long ago. Take the rest of the book as the autobiography of aseeker after reality, and this last section as his declaration ofwhere he had found it, and all the previous parts fall into theirright places.

Our passage omits the first portion of the closing section, which isneeded in order to set the counsel to remember the Creator in itsright relation. Observe that, properly rendered, the advice in verse 1is 'remember also,' and that takes us back to the end of the precedingchapter. There the young are exhorted to enjoy the bright, briefblossom-time of their youth, withal keeping the consciousness ofresponsibility for its employment. In earlier parts of the booksimilar advice had been given, but based on different grounds. Herereligion and full enjoyment of youthful buoyancy and delight in fresh,unhackneyed, homely pleasures are proclaimed to be perfectlycompatible. The Preacher had no idea that a devout young man or womanwas to avoid pleasures natural to their age. Only he wished their joyto be pure, and the stern law that 'whatsoever a man soweth that shallhe also reap' to be kept in mind. Subject to that limitation, orrather that guiding principle, it is not only allowable, butcommanded, to 'put away sorrow and evil.' Young people are oftenliable to despondent moods, which come over them like morning mists,and these have to be fought against. The duty of joy is the moreimperative on the young because youth flies so fast, or, as thePreacher says,' is vanity.'

Now these advices sound very like the base incitements to sensual andunworthy delight which poets of the meaner sort, and some, alas! ofthe nobler in their meaner moments, have presented. But this writer isno teacher of 'Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,' and wicked trash ofthat sort. Therefore he brings side by side with these advices theother of our passage. That 'also' saves the former from being misused,just as the thought of judgment did.

That possible combination of hearty, youthful glee and true religionis the all-important lesson of this passage. The word for Creator isin the plural number, according to the Hebrew idiom, which therebyexpresses supremacy or excellence. The name of 'Creator' carries usback to Genesis, and suggests one great reason for the injunction. Itis folly to forget Him on whom we depend for being; it is ingratitudeto forget, in the midst of the enjoyments of our bright, early days,Him to whom we owe them all. The advice is specially needed; for youthhas so much, that is delightful in its novelty, to think about, andthe world, on both its innocent and its sinful side, appeals to it sostrongly, that the Creator is only too apt to be crowded out of viewby His works. The temptation of the young is to live in the present.Reflection belongs to older heads; spontaneous action is morecharacteristic of youth. Therefore, they specially need to makeefforts to bring clearly to their thoughts both the unseen future andHim who is invisible. The advice is specially suitable for them; forwhat is begun early is likely to last and be strong.

It is hard for older men, stiffened into habits, and with less powerand love of taking to new courses, to turn to God, if they haveforgotten Him in early days. Conversion is possible at any age, but itis less likely as life goes on. The most of men who are Christianshave become so in the formative period between boyhood and thirty.After that age, the probabilities of radical change diminish rapidly.So, 'Remember … in the days of thy youth,' or the likelihood is thatyou will never remember. To say, 'I mean to have my fling, and I shallturn over a new leaf when I am older,' is to run dreadful risk.Perhaps you will never be older. Probably, if you are, you will notwant to turn the leaf. If you do, what a shame it is to plan to giveGod only the dregs of life! You need Him, quite as much, if not more,now in the flush of youth as in old age. Why should you rob yourselfof years of blessing, and lay up bitter memories of wasted andpolluted moments? If ever you turn to God in your older days, nothingwill be so painful as the remembrance that you forgot Him so long.

The advice is further important, because it presents the only means ofdelivering life from the 'vanity' which the Preacher found in it all.Therefore he sets it at the close of his meditations. This is thepractical outcome of them all. Forget God, and life is a desert.Remember Him, and 'the desert will rejoice and blossom as the rose.'

The verses from the middle of verse 1 to the end of verse 7 enforcethe exhortation by the consideration of what will certainly followyouth, and advise remembrance of the Creator before that future comes.So much is clear, but the question of the precise meaning of theseverses is much too large for discussion here. The older explanationtakes them for an allegory representing the decay of bodily and mentalpowers in old age, whilst others think that in them the advance ofdeath is presented under the image of an approaching storm. Wright, inhis valuable commentary, regards the description of the gradual waningaway of life in old age, in the first verses, as being set forth underimages drawn from the closing days of the Palestinian winter, whichare dreaded as peculiarly unhealthy, while verse 4_b_ and verse 5present the advent of spring, and contrast the new life in animals andplants with the feebleness of the man dying in his chamber and unableto eat. Still another explanation is that the whole is part of adirge, to be taken literally, and describing the mourners in house andgarden. I venture, though with some hesitation, to prefer, on thewhole, the old allegorical theory, for reasons which it would beimpossible to condense here. It is by no means free from difficulty,but is, as I think, less difficult than any of its rivals.

Interpreters who adopt it differ somewhat in the explanation ofparticular details, but, on the whole, one can see in most of thesimiles sufficient correspondence for a poet, however foreign tomodern taste such a long-drawn and minute allegory may be. 'Thekeepers of the house' are naturally the arms; the 'strong men,' thelegs; the 'grinding women,' the teeth; the 'women who look out at thewindows,' the eyes; 'the doors shut towards the street,' either thelips or, more probably, the ears. 'The sound of the grinding,' whichis 'low,' is by some taken to mean the feeble mastication of toothlessgums, in which case the 'doors' are the lips, and the figure of themill is continued. 'Arising at the voice of the bird' may describe thelight sleep or insomnia of old age; but, according to some, with analteration of rendering ('The voice riseth into a sparrow's'), it isthe 'childish treble' of Shakespeare. The former is the more probablerendering and reference. The allegory is dropped in verse 5a,which describes the timid walk of the old, but is resumed in 'thealmond trees shall flourish'; that is, the hair is blanched, as thealmond blossom, which is at first delicate pink, but fades into white.The next clause has an appropriate meaning in the common translation,as vividly expressing the loss of strength, but it is doubtful whetherthe verb here used ever means 'to be a burden.' The other explanationsof the clause are all strained. The next clause is best taken, as inthe Revised Version, as describing the failure of appetite, which thestimulating caper-berry is unable to rouse. All this slow decay isaccounted for, 'because the man is going to his long home,' andalready the poet sees the mourners gathering for the funeralprocession.

The connection of the long-drawn-out picture of senile decay with theadvice to remember the Creator needs no elucidation. That period offailing powers is no time to begin remembering God. How dreary, too,it will be, if God is not the 'strength of the heart,' when 'heart andflesh fail'! Therefore it is plain common sense, in view of thefuture, not to put off to old age what will bless youth, and keep theadvent of old age from being wretched.

Verses 6 and 7 still more stringently enforce the precept by pointing,not to the slow approach, but to the actual arrival of death. If afuture of possible weakness and gradual creeping in on us of death isreason for the exhortation, much more is the certainty that the crashof dissolution will come. The allegory is partially resumed in theseverses. The 'golden bowl' is possibly the head, and, according tosome, the 'silver cord' is the spinal marrow, while others thinkrather of the bowl or lamp as meaning the body, and the cord the soulwhich, as it were, holds it up. The 'pitcher' is the heart, and the'wheel' the organs of respiration. Be this as it may, the generalthought is that death comes, shivering the precious reservoir oflight, and putting an end to drawing of life from the Fountain ofbodily life. Surely these are weighty reasons for the Preacher'sadvice. Surely it is well for young hearts sometimes to remember theend, and to ask, 'What will ye do in the end?' and to do before theend what is so hard to begin doing at the end, and so needful to havedone if the end is not to be worse than 'vanity.'

The collapse of the body is not the end of the man, else the wholeforce of the argument in the preceding verses would disappear. Ifdeath is annihilation, what reason is there for seeking God before itcomes? Therefore verse 7 is no interpolation to bring a sceptical bookinto harmony with orthodox Jewish belief, as some commentators affirm.The 'contradiction' between it and Ecclesiastes iii. 21 is alleged asproof of its having been thus added. But there is no contradiction.The former passage is interrogative, and, like all the earlier part ofthe book, sets forth, not the Preacher's ultimate convictions, but aphase through which he passed on his way to these. It is because manis twofold, and at death the spirit returns to its divine Giver, thatthe exhortation of verse 1 is pressed home with such earnestness.

The closing verses are confidently asserted to be, like verse 7,additions in the interests of Jewish 'orthodoxy.' But Ecclesiastes ismade out to be a 'sceptical book' by expelling these from the text,and then the character thus established is taken to prove that theyare not genuine. It is a remarkably easy but not very logical process.

'The end of the matter' when all is heard, is, to 'fear God and keepHis commandments.' The inward feeling of reverent awe which does notexclude love, and the outward life of conformity to His will, is 'thewhole duty of man,' or 'the duty of every man.' And that plain summaryof all that men need to know for practical guidance is enforced by theconsideration of future judgment, which, by its universal sweep andall-revealing light, must mean the judgment in another life.

Happy they who, through devious mazes of thought and act, havewandered seeking for the vision of any good, and having found all tobe vanity, have been led at last to rest, like the dove in the ark, inthe broad simplicity of the truth that all which any man needs forblessedness in the buoyancy of fresh youthful strength and in thefeebleness of decaying age, in the stress of life, in the darkness ofdeath, and in the day of judgment, is to 'fear God and keep Hiscommandments'!