Handfuls of Pasture: Volume 1

There are few exercises more valuable or healthful for the Christian than self-judgment. I do not mean by this the unhappy practice of looking in upon oneself for evidences of life and security in Christ. This is terrible work to be at. To be looking at a worthless self, instead of at a risen Christ, is as deplorable an occupation as we can well conceive. The idea which many Christians seem to entertain, in reference to what is called self-examination, is truly depressing. They look upon it as an exercise which may end in their discovering that they are not Christians at all. This, I repeat it, is most terrible work.

No doubt it is well for those who have been building upon a sandy foundation, to have their eyes opened to see the dangerous delusion. It is well for such as have been complacently wrapping themselves up in pharisaic robes, to have those robes stripped off. It is well for those who have been sleeping in a house on fire, to be roused from their slumbers. It is well for such as have been walking, blindfold, to the brink of some frightful precipice, to have the bandage removed from their eyes, so that they may see their danger, and retreat. No intelligent and well-regulated mind would think of calling in question the rightness of all this. But then, fully admitting the above, the question of true self-judgment remains wholly untouched. The Christian is never once taught, in the word of God, to examine himself with the idea of finding out that he is not a Christian. The very reverse is the case, as I shall endeavor to show.

There are two passages, in the New Testament, which are sadly misinterpreted. The first is in reference to the celebration of the Lord's supper: “Let a man examine himself, and so let him eat of this bread, and drink of this cup; for he that eateth and drinketh unworthily, eateth and drinketh judgment to himself, not discerning the Lord's body." (1 Cor. 11:28, 29.) Now, it is usual to apply the term "unworthily," in this passage, to persons doing the act, whereas, it really refers to the manner of doing it. The apostle never thought of calling in question the Christianity of the Corinthians: nay, in the opening address of his epistle, he looks at them as “the church of God which is in Corinth, sanctified in Christ Jesus, called saints" (or saints by calling). How could he use this language, in the first chapter, and, in the eleventh chapter, call in question the worthiness of these saints to take their seat at the Lord's supper? Impossible. He looked upon them as saints, and, as such, he exhorted them to celebrate the Lord's supper in a worthy manner. The question of any but true Christians being there, is never raised; so that it is utterly impossible that the word “unworthily" could apply to persons. Its application is entirely to the manner. The persons were worthy, but their manner was not; and they were called, as saints, to judge themselves as to their ways, else the Lord might judge them in their persons, as was already the ease. In a word, it was as true Christians they were called to judge themselves. If they were in doubt as to that, they were utterly unable to judge anything. I never think of setting my child to judge as to whether he is my child or not; but I expect him to judge himself, as to his habits, else if he do not, I may have to do, by chastening, what he ought to do by self-judgment. It is because I look upon him as my child, that I will not allow him to sit at my table with soiled garments and disorderly manners.

The second passage occurs in 2 Cor. 13. "Since ye seek a proof of Christ speaking in me examine yourselves." (Verses 3-5.) The rest of the passage is parenthetic. The real point is this. The apostle appeals to the Corinthians themselves as the clear proof that his apostleship was divine—that Christ had spoken in him—that his commission was from heaven. He looked upon them as true Christians, notwithstanding all their confusion; but, inasmuch as they were seals to his ministry, that ministry must be divine, and, hence, they ought not to listen to the false apostles who were speaking against him. Their Christianity and his apostleship were so intimately connected, that to question the one was to question the other. It is, therefore, plain that the apostle did not call upon the Corinthians to examine themselves with any such idea as that the examination might issue in the sad discovery that they were not Christians at all. Quite the reverse. In truth, it is as if I were to produce a real watch to a person, and say, "Since you seek a proof that the man who made this is a watchmaker, examine it."

Thus, then, it seems plain, that neither of the above passages affords any warrant for that kind of self-examination for which some contend, which is really based upon a system of doubts and fears, and has no warrant whatever in the Word of God. The self-judgment to which I would call the reader's attention is a totally different thing. It is a sacred Christian exercise, of the most salutary character. It is based upon the most unclouded confidence as to our salvation and acceptance in Christ. The Christian is called to judge self, because he is, and not to see if he be, a Christian. This makes all the difference. Were I to examine self for a thousand years, I should never find it to be aught else than a worthless, ruined, vile thing—a thing which God has set aside, and which I am called to reckon as "dead." How could I ever expect to get any comfortable evidences by such an examination? Impossible. The Christian's evidences are not to be found in his ruined self, but in God's risen Christ; and the more he can get done with the former and occupied with the latter, the happier and holier he will be. The Christian judges himself, judges his ways, judges his habits, judges his thoughts, words, and actions, because he believes he is a Christian, not because he doubts it. If he doubts, he is not fit to judge anything. It is as knowing and enjoying the eternal stability of God’s grace, the divine efficacy of the blood of Jesus, the all-prevailing power of His advocacy, the unalterable authority of the Word, the divine security of the very feeblest of Christ's sheep—it is as entering, by the teaching of God the Holy Ghost, into these priceless realities, that the true believer judges himself. The human idea of self-examination is founded upon unbelief. The divine idea of self-judgment is founded upon confidence.

But, let us never forget that we are called to judge ourselves. If we lose sight of this, nature will soon get ahead of us, and we shall make sorry work of it. The most devoted Christians have a mass of things which need to be judged, and, if they are not habitually judged, they will assuredly cut out abundance of bitter work for them. If there be irritability or levity, pride or vanity, natural indolence or natural impetuosity—whatever there be that belongs to our fallen nature, we must, as Christians, judge and subdue that thing. That which is abidingly judged will never get upon the conscience. Self-judgment keeps all our matters right and square; but, if nature be not judged, there is no knowing how, when, or where it may break out, and produce keen anguish of soul, and bring gross dishonor upon the Lord's name. The most grievous cases of failure and declension may be traced to the neglect of self-judgment in little things. There are three distinct stages of judgment, namely, self-judgment, church judgment, and divine judgment. If a man judges himself, the assembly is kept clear. If he fails to do so, evil will break out in some shape or form, and then the assembly is involved; and if the assembly fails to judge the evil, then God must deal with the assembly. If Achan had judged the covetous thought, the assembly would not have become involved. (Josh. 7) If the Corinthians had judged themselves in secret, the Lord would not to have had to judge the assembly in public. 1 Cor. 11

All this is deeply practical and soul-subduing. May all the Lord's people learn to walk in the cloudless sunshine of His favor, in the holy enjoyment of their relationship, and in the habitual exercise of a spirit of self-judgment!

Provision for Perilous Times

It is of the very last importance, for the servant of Christ, in all ages, to have a clear, deep, abiding, influential sense of his position, his path, his portion, and his prospects—a divinely wrought apprehension of the ground which he is called to occupy; the sphere of action which is thrown open to him; the divine provision made for his comfort and encouragement, his strength and guidance; and the brilliant hopes held out to him. There is uncommon danger of our being allured into a mere region of theory and speculation, of opinion and sentiment, of dogmas and principles. The freshness of first love is frequently lost by contact with the men and things of what may be called u the religious world." The lovely verdure of early personal Christianity is often destroyed by a wrong use of the machinery of religion, if we may be allowed to use such a term.

In the kingdom of nature, it frequently happens that some stray seed has dropped into the ground, taken root, and sprung up into a tender plant. The hand of man had nothing to do with it. God planted it, watered it, and made it grow. He assigned it its position, gave it its strength, and covered it with beauteous verdure. By and by, man intruded upon its solitude and transplanted it to his own artificial enclosure, there to wither and droop. Thus it is too often, alas! with the plants of God's spiritual kingdom. They are often injured by man's rude hand. They would be far better, if left to the sole management of the Hand that planted them. Young Christians frequently suffer immensely from not being left to the exclusive training of the Holy Ghost, and the exclusive teaching of Holy Scripture. Human management is almost sure to stunt the growth of God's spiritual plants. It is not, by any means, that God may not use men as His instruments in watering, culturing, and caring for, His precious plants.

He assuredly may and does.; but, then, it is God's culture and care, not man's. This makes all the difference. The Christian is God's plant. The seed which produced him was divine. It was directed and planted by God's own hand, and that same hand must be allowed to train it.

Now, what is true of the individual believer is equally true of the Church, as a whole. In the First Epistle to Timothy, the Church is looked at in its original order and glory. It is there viewed as “The house of God "—" The church of the living God"—"The pillar and. ground of the truth." Its office-bearers, its functions, and its responsibilities, are there minutely and formally described. The servant of Christ is instructed as to the mode in which he is to conduct himself in the midst of such a hallowed and dignified sphere.. Such is the character, such the scope and object of Paul's First Epistle to Timothy.

But, in the Second Epistle, we have something quite different. The scene is entirely changed. The house which, in the first epistle, was looked at in its rule, is here contemplated in its ruin. The church, as an economy set up on the earth, had, like every other economy, utterly failed. Man fails in everything. He failed amid the beauty and order of Paradise. He failed in that favored land "that flowed with milk and honey, the glory of all lands." He failed amid the rare privileges of the gospel dispensation; and he will fail amid the bright beams of millennial glory. (Comp. Genesis in., Judg. 2 Acts 20:29, 3 John 1:9, Rev. 1: 2., Rev. 20:7-9.)

The remembrance of this will help us in the understanding of 2 Timothy. It may, very properly, be termed, “a divine provision for perilous times." The apostle seems, as it were, to be weeping over the ruins of that once beautiful structure. Like the weeping prophet, he beholds "the stones of the sanctuary poured out in the top of every street." He calls to remembrance the tears of his beloved Timothy. He is glad to have even one sympathizing bosom into which to pour his sorrows. All that were in Asia had turned away from him. He was left to stand alone before Caesar's judgment seat. Demas forsook him. Alexander,, the coppersmith, did him much evil. All around him, so far as man was concerned, looked gloomy and dark. He begs of his beloved Timothy to bring him his cloak, his books, and his parchments. All is strongly marked. Perilous times “are anticipated." “A form of godliness without the power"—the mantle of profession thrown over the grossest abominations of the human heart—men not able to endure sound doctrine—heaping to themselves teachers after their own lusts, having itching ears which must needs be tickled by the fabulous and baseless absurdities of the human mind Such are the features of the Second Epistle to Timothy. Who can fail to notice them? Who can fail to see that our lot is cast in the very midst of the evils and dangers here contemplated? And is it not well to have a clear perception of these things? Why should we desire to blind our eyes as to the truth? Why deceive ourselves with vain dreams of increasing light and spiritual prosperity? Is it not better far to look the true condition of things straight in the face? Assuredly; and, the rather when the selfsame epistle which so faithfully points out “the perilous times" fully unfolds the divine provision. Why should we imagine that man, under the Christian dispensation, would prove a single whit better than man under all the dispensations which have gone before, or under the millennial dispensation which is yet to follow? Would not analogy, even in the absence of direct and positive proof, lead us to expect failure under this one economy as well as under all the others? If we, without exception, find judgment at the close of all the other dispensations, why should, we look for aught else at the close of this? Let my reader ponder these things, and then accompany me, for a few moments, while I seek, by the grace of God, to unfold some of the divine provisions far

I do not attempt to expound this most touching and interesting epistle in detail. This would he impossible in an article like the present. I shall merely single out one point from each of the four chapters into which the epistle has been divided. These are, first, “unfeigned faith." (ch. i. 5.) Secondly, “the sure foundation." (chap. ii. 19.) Thirdly, “the holy scriptures." (chap. iii. 15.) Fourthly, “the crown of righteousness." (chap. iv. 8.) The man who knows aught of the power of these things, is divinely provided for “perilous times."

I. And, first, as to “the unfeigned faith"—that priceless possession, the apostle says, “I thank God, whom I serve from my forefathers with pure conscience, that without ceasing I have remembrance of thee in my prayers night and day; greatly desiring to see thee, being mindful of thy tears, that I may be filled with joy; when I call to remembrance the unfeigned faith that is in thee, which dwelt first in thy grandmother Lois and thy mother Eunice; and I am persuaded that in thee also." Here, then, we have something above and beyond everything ecclesiastical—something which one must have, ere he is introduced to the church, and which will stand good though the church were in ruins around him. This unfeigned faith connects the soul immediately with Christ, in the power of a link which must, of necessity, be anterior to all ecclesiastical associations how important soever they may be, in their due place-a link which shall endure when all earthly associations, shall have been dissolved forever. We do not get to Christ through the church. We get to Christ first, and then to the church. Christ is our life, not the church. No doubt, church fellowship is most valuable; but there is something above and beyond it, and it is of that something that “unfeigned faith" takes possession. Timothy had this faith dwelling in him before ever he entered the house of God. He was connected with the God of the house previous to his manifested association with the house of God.

It is well to be clear as to this. We must never surrender the intense individuality which characterizes “unfeigned faith." We must carry it with us through all the scenes and circumstances, the links and associations of our Christian life and service. We must not traffic in mere church position, or build upon religious machinery, or be upborne by a routine of duty, or cling to the worthless props of sectarian sympathy or denominational predilection. Let us cultivate those fresh, vivid, and powerful, affections which were created in our hearts when first we knew the Lord. Let the beauteous blossom of our spring-time be succeeded, not by barrenness and sterility, but by those mellow clusters which spring from realized connection with the root. Too often, alas! it is otherwise. Too often the earnest, zealous, simple-hearted young Christian is lost in the bigoted, narrow-minded member of a sect, or the intolerant defender of some peculiar opinion. The freshness, softness, simplicity, tenderness, and earnest affection of our young days, are rarely carried forward into the advanced stages of vigorous manhood, and mature old age. Very frequently, one finds a depth of tone, a richness of experience, a moral elevation, in the early stages of the Christian life which too soon gives place to a chilling formalism in one's personal ways; or a mere energy in the defense of some barren system of theology. How rarely are those words of the Psalmist realized, “They shall bring forth fruit in old age; they shall be fat and flourishing." Psalm 92:14.

The truth is, we all want to cultivate, more diligently, an “unfeigned faith." We want to enter, with more spiritual vigor, into the power of the link which binds us, individually, to Christ. This would render us “fat and flourishing," even in old age. “The righteous shall flourish 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 the courts of our God." We suffer materially by allowing what is called Christian intercourse to interfere with our personal connection and communion with Christ. We are far too prone to substitute intercourse with man for intercourse with God-to walk in the footsteps of our fellow, rather than in the footsteps of Christ -to look around, rather than upward, for sympathy, support, and encouragement. These are not the fruits of ''unfeigned faith.'' Quite the opposite. That faith is as blooming and vigorous amid the solitudes of a desert as in the bosom of an assembly. Its immediate, its all engrossing business is with God Himself. “It endures as seeing Him who is invisible." It fixes its earnest gaze upon things unseen and eternal. "It enters into that within the veil." It lives amid the unseen realities of an eternal world. Having conducted the soul to the feet of Jesus, there to get a full and final forgiveness of all its sins, through His most precious blood, it bears it majestically onward through all the windings and labyrinths of desert life, and enables it to bask in the bright beams of millennial glory.

Thus much as to this first precious item in the divine provision for "perilous times"-this "unfeigned faith." No one can ever get on without it, let the times be peaceful or perilous, easy or difficult, rough or smooth, dark or bright. If a man be destitute of this faith, deeply implanted and diligently cultivated in his soul, he must, sooner or later, break down. He may be urged on, for a time, by the impulses of surrounding circumstances and their influence. He may be propped up and borne along by his coreligionists. He may float down along the stream of religious profession. But, most assuredly, if he be not possessed of "unfeigned faith," the time is rapidly approaching when it will be all over with him forever. The “perilous times" will soon rise to a head, and then will come the awful crisis of judgment, from which none can escape save the happy possessors of "unfeigned faith." God grant my reader may be one of these! If so, all is eternally safe.

II. We shall, now, consider, in the second place, “The sure foundation." "Nevertheless the foundation of God standeth sure, having this seal, the Lord knoweth them that are his. And let every one that nameth the name of Christ depart from iniquity." (Chap. ii. 19.) In the midst of all the “trouble," the "hardness," the "striving about words," the “profane and vain babblings," the errors of "Hymenaeus and Philetus î-in the midst of all these varied features of the “perilous times," how ineffably precious to fall back upon God's sure foundation. The soul that is built upon this, in the divine energy of "unfeigned faith," is able to resist the rapidly rising tide of evil-is divinely furnished for the most appalling times. There is a fine moral link between the unfeigned faith in the heart of man, and the sure foundation laid by the hand of God. All may go to ruin. The church may go to pieces, and all who love that church may have to sit down and weep over its ruins; but there stands that imperishable foundation, laid by God's own hand, against which the surging tide of error and evil may roll with all its fury, and have no effect, save to prove the eternal stability of that rock and of all who are built thereon.

"The Lord knoweth them that are his." There is abundance of false profession, but the eye of Jehovah rests on all those who belong to Him. Not one of them is, or ever can be forgotten by Him. Their names are engraven on His heart. They are as precious to Him as the price He paid for them, and that is nothing less than the "precious blood” of His own dear Son. No evil can befall them. No weapon formed against them can prosper. "The eternal God is their refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms." What rich, what ample provision for “perilous times!'' Why should we fear? Why should we be anxious? Having "unfeigned faith within, and God's foundation beneath, it is our happy privilege to pursue, with tranquillized hearts, our upward and onward way, in the assurance that all is and shall be well.

''I know my sheep," He cries,

" My soul approves them well:

Vain is the treacherous world's disguise,

And vain the rage of hell."

It has been well remarked that the seal on God's foundation has two sides: one, bearing the inscription, “The Lord knoweth them that are his;'' and the other, “Let every one that nameth the name of Christ depart from iniquity." The former is as peace-giving as the latter is practical. Let the strife and confusion be ever so great-let the storm rage and the billows arise-let the darkness thicken-let all the powers of earth and hell combine, "the Lord knoweth them that are his." He has sealed them for Himself. The assurance of this is eminently calculated to maintain the heart in profound repose, let the "times" be ever so "perilous."

But, let us never forget that each one who "names the name of Christ," is solemnly responsible to “depart from iniquity wherever he finds it. This is applicable to all true christians. The moment I see anything that deserves the epithet of “iniquity," be it what or where it may, I am called upon to “depart from" that thing. I am not to wait till others see with me, for what may seem to be “iniquity" to one, may not seem to be so, at all, to another. Hence, it is entirely a personal question. "Let every one." The language used in this epistle is very personal, very strong, very intense. "If a man purge himself.” "Flee also youthful lusts." "From such turn away:” "Continue thou." "I charge thee." "Watch thou in all things, endure afflictions." "Of whom be thou ware also." These are solemn, earnest, weighty words-words which prove, very distinctly, that our lot is cast in times when we must not lean upon the arm or gaze upon the countenance of our fellow. We must be sustained by the energy of an "unfeigned faith," and by our personal connection with the "sure foundation." Thus shall we be able, let others do or think as they will, to "depart from iniquity"—to "flee youthful lusts''—to "turn away" from the adherents of a powerless "form of godliness," wherever we find them, and to "beware" of every "Alexander the coppersmith." If we suffer our feet to be moved from the rock-if we surrender ourselves to the impulse of surrounding circumstances and influences, we shall never be able to make head against the special forms of evil and error in these “perilous times."

III. This introduces us, naturally, to our third point, namely, "The holy scriptures',-that precious portion of every "man of God." "But continue thou in the things which thou hast learned and hast been assured of, knowing of whom thou hast learned them; and that from a child thou hast known the holy scriptures, which are able to make thee wise unto salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus. All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness; that the man of God may be perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works." (chap. iii. 14-17.) Here, then, we have rich provision for “perilous times." A thorough knowledge of the One from “whom we have learned"—an accurate, personal, experimental acquaintance with “holy scripture"—that pure fountain of divine authority-that changeless source of heavenly wisdom, which even a child may possess, and without which a sage must err. If a man be not able to refer all his thoughts, all his convictions, all his principles, to God as their living source-to Christ as their living center, and to "the holy scriptures" as their divine authority, he will never be able to get on through "perilous times." A second-hand faith will never do. We must hold truth directly from God, through the medium, and on the authority of "the holy scriptures." God may use a man to show me certain things in the word; but I do not bold them from man, but from God. It is, " knowing of whom thou hast learned; and when this is the case I am able, through grace, to get on through the thickest darkness, and through all the devious paths of this wilderness world. Inspirations heavenly lamp emits a light so clear, so full, so steady, that its brightness is only made the more distinctly manifest by the surrounding gloom. " The man of God" is not left to drink of the muddy streams that flow along the channel of human tradition; but with the vessel of " unfeigned faith," he sits beside the limpid and ever-gushing fountain of "holy scripture," there to drink of its refreshing waters, to the full satisfaction of his thirsty soul.

It is worthy of remark that, although the inspired apostle was fully aware, when writing his first epistle, of Timothy's " unfeigned faith " and of his knowledge, from childhood's earliest dawn, of "the holy scriptures," yet he does not allude to these things until, in his second epistle, he contemplates the appalling features of the " perilous times.'' The reason is obvious. It is in the very midst of the perils of ''the last days," that one has the most urgent need of ' unfeigned faith " and " the holy scriptures." We cannot get on without them. When all around is fresh and vigorous-when all are borne onward as by one common impulse of genuine devotedness-when every heart is full to overflowing of deep and earnest attachment to the Person and cause of Christ-when every countenance beams with heavenly joy-then, indeed, it is comparatively easy to get on. But the condition of things contemplated in the Second Epistle to Timothy is the very reverse of all this. It is such, that unless one is walking closely with God, in the habitual exercise of "unfeigned faith"-in the abiding realization of the link which connects him, indissolubly, with " the foundation of God "-and in clear, unquestionable, accurate knowledge of "the holy scriptures,'' he must, assuredly, make shipwreck. This is a deeply solemn consideration, well worthy of my reader's undivided, prayerful attention. The time has, verily, arrived in the which each one must follow the Lord, according to his measure. "What is that to thee? Follow thou me." These words fall on the ear with peculiar power as one seeks to make his way amid the ruins of everything ecclesiastical.

But, let me not be misunderstood. It is not that I would detract, in the smallest degree, from the value of true church fellowship, or from the divine institution of the assembly and all the privileges and responsibilities attaching thereto. Far be the thought. I believe, most fully, that christians are called to seek the maintenance of the very highest principles of communion; and moreover, we are warranted, from the epistle which now lies open before us to expect that, in the darkest times, the " purged vessel "will be able to " follow righteousness, faith, charity, peace, with them that call on the Lord out of a pure heart." (chap. ii. 22.)

All this is plain, and has its due place and value; hut it, in no wise, interferes with the fact that each one is responsible to pursue a path of holy independence, without waiting for the countenance, the sympathy, the support, or the company of his fellow. True, we are to be deeply thankful for brotherly fellowship, when we can get it on true ground. Of such fellowship no words can tell the worth. Would that we knew more of it! The Lord increase it to us a hundred fold! But let us never stoop to purchase fellowship at the heavy price of all that is "lovely and of good report." May the name of Jesus be more precious to our hearts than all beside; and with all those who truly love His name may our happy lot be east on earth, as it shall be, throughout eternity, in the regions of unfading light and purity, above.

IV. And, now, one closing word as to "the crown of righteousness." " For I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day; and not to me only, but unto all them also who love his appearing." (chap. iv. 6-8.) Here, the venerable pilgrim takes his stand on the summit of the spiritual Pisgah, and, with undimmed eye, surveys the bright plains of glory. He sees the crown of righteousness glittering in the Master's hand. He looks back over the course which he had run, and over the battle-field whereon he had fought-he stands on the confines of earth, and in the very midst of the ruins of that church whose rise and progress he had watched with such intense solicitude, and over whose decline and fall he had poured forth the tears of tender though disappointed affection-he fixes his eye on the goal of immortality which no power of the enemy can prevent his reaching, in triumph; and whether it were by Caesar's ax that he was to reach that goal, or by any other means, it mattered not to one who was able to say, " I am ready." What true sublimity! What moral grandeur! What noble elevation is here! And yet there was nothing of the ascetic in this incomparable servant, for though his vision was filled with the crown of righteousness-though he is ready to step like a conqueror into his triumphal chariot-he, nevertheless, feels it perfectly right to give minute directions about his cloak and books. This is divinely perfect. It teaches us that the more vividly we enter into the glories of heaven, the more faithfully shall we discharge the functions of earth-the more we realize the nearness of eternity, the more effectively shall we order the things of time.

Such, then, beloved reader, is the ample provision made, by the grace of God, for "the perilous times" through which you and I are now passing. " Unfeigned faith"- "The sure foundation"-"The holy scriptures"-and "The crown of righteousness." May the Holy Ghost lead us into a deep sense of the importance and value of these things May we love the appearing of Jesus, and earnestly look out for that cloudless morning when "the righteous judge" shall place a diadem of glory upon the brow of each one who really loves His advent!

Self-Control

The word " temperance," in 2 Pet. 1:6, means a great deal more than what is usually understood by that term. It is customary to apply the expression " temperance" to a habit of moderation in reference to eating and drinking. No doubt it fully involves this, but it involves very much more. Indeed, the Greek word used by the inspired apostle, may, with strict propriety, be rendered " self-control." It gives the idea of one who has self habitually well reined in.

This is a rare and admirable grace, diffusing its hallowed influence over the entire course, character, and conduct. It not only bears directly upon one, or two, or twenty selfish habits, but upon self in all the length and breadth of that comprehensive and most odious term. Many a one who would look, with proud disdain, upon a glutton or a drunkard, may himself fail, every hour, in exhibiting the grace of self-control. True it is that gluttony and drunkenness should be ranged with the very vilest and most demoralizing forms of selfishness. They must be regarded as amongst the most bitter clusters that grow on that wide-spreading tree. But, then, self is a tree, and not a mere branch of a tree, or a cluster on a branch; and we should not only judge self when it works, but control it that it may not work.

Some, however, may ask, "How can we control self?" The answer is blessedly simple: " I can do all things through Christ that strengtheneth me." (Phil. 4.) Have we not gotten salvation in Christ? Yes, blessed be God, we have. And what does this wondrous word include? Is it mere deliverance from the wrath to come? Is it merely the pardon of our sins, and the assurance of exemption from the lake that burneth with fire and brimstone? It is far more than these, precious and priceless though they be. In a word, then, "salvation" implies a full and hearty acceptance of Christ as my " wisdom," to guide me out of folly's dark and devious paths, into paths of heavenly light and peace; as my "righteousness," to justify me in the sight of a holy God; as my "sanctification," to make me practically holy in all my ways; and as my "redemption," to give me final deliverance from all the power of death, and entrance upon the eternal fields of glory.

Hence, therefore, it is evident that " self-control" is included in the salvation which we have in Christ. It is a result of that practical sanctification with which divine grace has endowed us. We should carefully guard against the habit of taking a narrow view of salvation. We should seek to enter into all its fullness. It is a word which stretches from everlasting to everlasting, and takes in, in its mighty sweep, all the practical details of daily life. I have no right to talk of salvation, as regards my soul, in the future, while I refuse to know and exhibit its practical bearing upon my conduct, in the present. We are saved, not only from the guilt and condemnation of sin, but also, and as fully, from the power, the practice, and the love of it. These things should never be separated, nor will they by any one who has been divinely taught the meaning, the extent, and the power of that precious word " salvation."

Now, in presenting to my reader a few practical sentences on the subject of self-control, I shall contemplate it under the three following divisions, namely-the thoughts, the tongue, and the temper. I take it for granted that I am addressing a saved person. If my reader be not that, I can only direct him to the one true and living way, " Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved, and thy house." (Acts 16) Put your whole trust in Him, and you shall be as safe as He is Himself. This grand theme is largely dwelt upon, and variously illustrated, throughout the pages of this magazine, and to them I would refer the unconverted sinner, or the anxious inquirer, while I proceed to deal with the practical and much-needed subject of self-control.

I. And, first, as to our thoughts, and the habitual government thereof. I suppose there are few Christians who have not suffered from evil thoughts-those troublesome intruders upon our most profound retirement-those constant disturbers of our mental repose, that so frequently darken the atmosphere around us, and prevent us from getting a full, clear view upward into the bright heaven above. The-Psalmist could say, " I hate vain thoughts." No wonder." They are truly hateful, and should be judged, condemned, and expelled. Some one, in speaking of the subject of evil thoughts, has said, " I cannot prevent birds from flying over me, but I can prevent their alighting upon me. In like' manner, I cannot prevent evil thoughts being suggested to my mind, but I can refuse them a lodgment therein."

But how can we control our thoughts? No more than we could blot out our sins, or create a world. What are we to do? Look to Christ. This is the true secret of self-control. He can keep us, not only from the lodgment, but also from the suggestion of the evil thoughts. We could no more prevent the one than the other. He can prevent both. He can keep the vile intruders, not only from getting in, but even from knocking at the door. When the divine life is in energy-when the current of spiritual thought and feeling is deep and rapid-when the heart's affections are intensely occupied with the Person of Christ, vain thoughts do not trouble us. It is only when spiritual indolence creeps over us that evil thoughts-vile and horrible progeny!-come in upon us, like a flood; and then our only resource it to look straight to Jesus. We might as well attempt to cope with the marshaled hosts of hell, as with a horde of evil thoughts. Our refuge is in Christ. He is made unto us sanctification. We can do all things through Him. We have just to bring the name of Jesus to bear upon the flood of evil thoughts, and He will, most assuredly, give full and immediate deliverance.

However, the more excellent way is, to be preserved from the suggestions of evil, by the power of pre-occupation with good. When the channel of thought is decidedly up-ward, when it is deep and well formed, free from all curves and indentations, then the current of imagination and feeling, as it gushes up from the deep fountains of the soul, will naturally flow onward in the bed of that channel. This, I repeat, is, unquestionably, the more excellent way. May we prove it in our own experience. " Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are venerable, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report, if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things. Those things which ye have both learned and received, and heard and seen in me, do; and the God of peace shall be with you." (Phil. 4:8, 9.) When the heart is fully engrossed with Christ, the living embodiment of all those things enumerated in verse 8, we enjoy profound peace, unruffled by evil thoughts. This is true self-control.

II. And, now, as to the tongue, that influential member, so fruitful in good, so fruitful in evil-the instrument whereby we can either give forth accents of soft and soothing sympathy, or words of bitter sarcasm and burning indignation. How deeply important is the grace of self-control in its application to such a member! Mischief, which years cannot repair, may be done by the tongue in a moment. Words, which we would give the world, if we had it, to recall, may be uttered by the tongue in an unguarded hour. Hear what the inspired apostle saith on this subject: " If any man offend not in word, the same is a perfect man, and able also to bridle the whole body. Behold, we put bits in the horses' mouths, that they may obey us; and we turn about their whole body. Behold also the ships, which though they be so great, and are driven of fierce winds, yet are they turned about with a very small helm, whithersoever the governor listeth. Even so the tongue is a little member and boasted great things. Behold, how great a matter a little fire kindleth! And the tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity: so is the tongue among our members, that it defileth the whole body, and setteth on fire the course of nature; and it is set on fire of hell. For every kind of beasts, and of birds, and of serpents, and of things in the sea is tamed, and hath been tamed of mankind. But the tongue can no man tame; it is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison." (Jas. 3:2-8.)

Who, then, can control the tongue? "No man" can do it; but Christ can; and we have only to look to Him, in simple faith which implies, at once, the sense of our own utter helplessness and His all-sufficiency. It is utterly impossible that we could control the tongue. As well might we attempt to stem the ocean's tide, the mountain torrent, or the Alpine avalanche. How often, when suffering under the effects of some egregious blunder of the tongue, have we resolved to command that unruly member somewhat better next time; but, alas! our resolution proved to be like the morning cloud that passeth away, and we had only to retire and weep over our lamentable failure in the matter of self-control. Now, why was this? Simply because we undertook the matter in our own strength, or, at least, without a sufficiently deep consciousness of our own weakness. This is the cause of constant failure. We must cling to Christ as the babe clings to its mother. Not that our clinging is of any value; still we must cling. Thus, and thus alone, can we successfully bridle the tongue. And oh! let us remember, at all times, the solemn searching words of the same apostle, James, " If any one (man, woman, or child) among you seem to be religious, and bridleth not his tongue, but deceiveth his own heart, this man's religion is vain." (chap. 1: 26.) These are wholesome words for a day like the present, when there are so many unruly tongues abroad. May we have grace to attend to these words! May their holy influence appear in our ways!

III. The last point to be considered is the temper, which is intimately connected with both the tongue and the thoughts. Indeed, all three are very closely linked. When the spring of thought is spiritual, and the current heavenly, the tongue is only the active agent for good, and the temper is calm and unruffled. Christ dwelling in the heart by faith regulates everything. Without Him, all is worse than worthless. I may possess and exhibit the self-command of a Franklin or a Socrates, and, all the while, be wholly ignorant of the " self-control" of 2 Pet. 1:6. The latter is founded on " faith;" the former on philosophy, two totally different things. We must remember that the word is " Add to your faith." This puts faith first, as the only link to connect the heart with Christ, the living source of all power. Having Christ, and abiding in Him, we are enabled to add "courage, knowledge, self-control, patience, godliness, brotherly kindness, charity." Such are the precious fruits that now from abiding in Christ. But I can no more control my temper than my tongue or my thoughts; and if I set about it, I shall be sure to break down every hour. A mere philosopher, without Christ, may exhibit more self-control as to tongue and temper, than a Christian, if he abides not in Christ. This ought not to be, and would not be, if the Christian simply looked to Jesus. It is when he fails in this that the enemy gains the advantage. The philosopher, without Christ, seems to succeed in the great business of self-control, only that he may be the more effectually blinded as to the truth of his condition, and carried headlong to eternal ruin. But Satan delights to make a Christian stumble and fall, only that he may thereby blaspheme the precious name of Christ.

Christian reader, let us remember these things. Let us look to Christ to control our thoughts, our tongue, and our temper. Let us " give all diligence." Let us think how much is involved. " If these things be in you and abound, they make you that ye shall neither be barren nor unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. But he that lacketh these things is blind, and cannot see afar off, and hath forgotten that he was purged from his old sins." This is deeply solemn. How easy it is to drop into a state of spiritual blindness and forgetfulness! No amount of knowledge, either of doctrine or the letter of Scripture, will preserve the soul from this awful condition. Nothing but " the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ will avail; and this knowledge is to be increased in the soul by "giving all diligence to add to our faith" the various graces to which the apostle refers in the above eminently practical and soul-stir ring passage. " Wherefore the rather, brethren, give diligence to make your calling and election sure: for if ye do these things ye shall never fall: for so an entrance shall be ministered unto you abundantly into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ."

Jesus Girded

(John 13:1-10.)

The attitude in which our blessed Lord Jesus appears in this scripture is one of infinite grace. We behold Him furnished with a basin, girded with a towel, and stooping down to wash and wipe his disciples' feet. Yes; Jesus, the Son of God, the Creator and Sustainer of the universe, is here seen laying His holy hands upon the defiled feet of His followers, in order to wash away every soil which, even unknown to themselves, they might have contracted. The dignity and glory of the Person magnify the grace of the act. There could be nothing higher than the place from which Christ bad come; and there could be nothing on earth lower than the defiled feet of a sinner; but such is the glory of Christ's Person that He fills up all the space between. He can lay one hand on the throne of God, and the other on the feet of His saints, and form, in Himself, the mysterious precious link between the two. "Jesus knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he was come from God and went to God; he riseth from supper, and laid aside his garments; and took a towel and girded himself. After that he poureth water into a basin, and began to wash the disciples' feet, and to wipe them with the towel wherewith he was girded."

Observe this. Jesus, knowing that all things were in His hands—knowing whence He had come and whither He was going, enters upon the deeply significant work of washing His disciples' feet. What marvelous grace! What full provision is here! How true it is that Jesus meets us, at every stage of our spiritual history, with the very thing we need. He meets us at the first, when bowed down beneath the crushing load of guilt, and, by His precious blood, removes the load and casts it into the mighty waters of divine forgetfulness. He meets us day by day, as we pass along through a defiling scene, and with the basin and towel removes the defilement which we unavoidably contract, so that we may ever appear before God " clean every whit," and tread the courts of the sanctuary with feet as clean as Jesus can make them. He cleanses our conscience by His blood, and He cleanses our ways by His word.

This gives immense relief to the heart. Jesus has made us clean; and Jesus keeps us clean. There is not a soil on the conscience, not a soil on the feet of the very weakest member of the household of faith. Both the one and the other are cleansed according to the lofty demands of the sanctuary. All that God saw on my conscience has been washed away by the blood; and all that He sees in my ways is washed away by the word, so that I am "clean every whit." This is what Christ declares; it is founded upon His perfect work; and it maintains the heart in unruffled repose. The action of the basin and the towel never ceases for one moment. As we pass from the bath to the robing-room- from the fountain where our sins were washed away to the place where we shall put on our robes of immortality, our feet necessarily contract defilement; and if we did not know upon divine authority, that all that defilement was removed by a divine action continually going on, what should we do? We should either be in a most wretched state of soul, fearing all was not right, or else we should have a very low apprehension of the holiness of our position and path. But when, by the eye of faith, we see Jesus girded—when we gaze upon that mysterious basin—when, in the light of divine revelation, we interpret the whole mystic scene in John 13:1-10, then, while we have the most elevated view of the purity of that position in which the blood of Jesus has set us, our hearts enjoy profound peace, because we know that the One who was nailed to the cross to bring us thereinto, is girded for the gracious purpose of keeping us therein.

Nor need we, for one moment question the full application of all this to our own souls, for as surely as Christ washed the feet of those who sat around Him at the last supper, so surely is He washing our feet, yea, and will continue to wash the feet of His saints until we all stand upon the golden pavement of the upper sanctuary. " Having loved His own which were in the world, he loved them unto the end." Yes, right through and through to the very end of time, through all the changes of this ever changing scene, His love endures. The love of Jesus is not a love for a day, a month, or a year; it is a love for eternity. What He did over eighteen hundred years ago, He is doing now, and He will continue to do until we shall no longer need to have it done, and then " He will gird Himself, and come forth and serve us" in the glory of the kingdom. We are bound to Him forever, not only by our deep necessities, but by the powerful attractions of His Person.

Yes, my beloved Christian reader, you are as surely in-eluded in the mystic action of John 13 as you are in the powerful intercession of John 17 Of the latter, you are assured by His own words of thoughtful, tender love, when He said, " Neither pray I for these alone, but for them also which shall believe on me through their word;" and of the former you are assured by the comprehensive expression, "His own....unto the end." Wherefore remember, for the abiding peace and consolation of your heart, Jesus is ever washing your feet. He has washed you already, so that you need not be washed over again; but your feet, your ways, need to be cleansed, and that He is doing for you, without any interruption, morning, noon, eventide, and midnight. He is always doing it, because you always need it to be done. It is not merely when you have committed some sin of which your conscience takes cognizance, but at all times your feet need to be washed, and this Jesus is doing for you, else you would have no part in Him.

Peter, like many in our day, did not quite understand the meaning or object of Christ's gracious act. He evidently thought it demeaning for His blessed Master to perform such an office, whereas it was but a beauteous outshining of His moral glory. In one sense, the mount of transfiguration itself had not yielded a brighter testimony to the glory of Christ, than that afforded by the basin and towel in John 13 But the ardent Peter did not apprehend this, and hence he refused to allow Jesus to wash his feet; and when told of the terrible consequences of such a refusal, he said, " Lord, not my feet only, but also my hands and my head." This, as we know, was another mistake, for poor Peter was often mistaken, though his heart was right after all. The grand truth is this—the moment a person believes in Jesus, he is as clean as the blood of Jesus can make him- " clean every whit;" and, as a consequence, he does not need to come again and again and be washed. " The worshippers once purged, should have no more conscience of sin." (Heb. 10) The idea of repeated washing would lower the blood of Christ to the level of " the blood of bulls and goats." To be washed in the blood of Jesus is to be rendered perfectly and eternally clean—clean enough for God. What more is needed? Jesus replies, nothing more, " save to wash his feet." And what makes this needful? Because the believer is, in himself, a poor, feeble, failing creature; and, moreover, he is passing through a defiled and defiling place; and hence the unspeakable blessedness of knowing that the Lord Jesus is ever girded on his behalf, in order to wash away every soil which he contracts in his daily walk, 80 that he may ever be maintained practically in the integrity of the position into which the blood has introduced him. The Lord be praised for such ample provision! Well may we say, " Thou, O, Christ, art all I want."

May we enter into the truth and value of all this, and thus be able to follow the blessed example set before us in this chapter. "I have given you," says our Lord, "an example that ye should do as I have done to you." How are we to do this? By walking in communion with Christ, we shall be able to cleanse each others ways through the action of the word of God. If I see a brother pursuing a wrong course, adopting a wrong habit, or standing in an unclean association, I should bring the word to bear upon him so that he may be fully delivered from the evil thing.

Absent From the Body: Part 1

We are often, it may be, disposed to wonder at how little is said, in the New Testament, in reference to the state of the spirit, from the moment in which it leaves the body, until the morning of the resurrection. And yet, when we look more closely at it, we are struck with how much is said of it. True, there are but four passages which can properly be said to apply to that interesting interval; but oh! how much does any one of these four passages involve! If my reader will just turn with me, for a few moments, to the word, he will find this subject presented in its application to four distinct phases of the christian life. He will see the ransomed spirit passing into the presence of Christ from four distinct conditions. He will see one departing simply as a sinner saved by grace. He will see another making his exit as a martyr. He will hearken to the groanings of a burdened spirit desiring to be " absent from the body and present with the Lord." Finally, he will mark the earnest breathings of a laborer longing to be at rest forever in the Master's presence.

I. Our first reference shall be to Luke 23: "And one of the malefactors which were hanged railed on Him, saying, If thou be Christ, save thyself and us. But the other answering, rebuked him, saying, Dost not thou fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation? And we indeed justly; for we receive the due reward of our deeds: but this man hath done nothing amiss. And he said unto Jesus, Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom. And Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, Today shalt thou be with me in Paradise." Ver. 36-43.

It is not my purpose, at present, to dwell upon this lovely passage, or to unfold, in detail, its rich evangelic teaching. I merely quote it in order that my reader may have the testimony of holy scripture fully and clearly before him.

We here see the case of one who entered Paradise in the simple character of a sinner saved by grace. He was a condemned malefactor, in the morning—a railing blasphemer, in the course of the day—a ransomed spirit in heaven, ere the day closed. " Today shalt thou be with me in Paradise." He had been led to cast himself on Christ, as a justly-condemned sinner, and he went to heaven with Christ as a blood-bought saint. He was not called to wear a martyr's crown. He was not permitted to bear any golden sheaves into the Master's garner. His was not a long and checkered christian course. But he was a sinner saved by grace. And, what is more, he was enabled by grace to bear testimony to the sinless humanity of our blessed Lord, at a moment when the great religious leaders of the people had given Him up to the secular power as a malefactor. And further, he was led to own Him as Lord, and speak of His coming kingdom, at a moment when, to mortal vision, not a trace of lordship or royalty was discernible. These were good works. To confess Christ, and flatly contradict a Christ-rejecting world, are works of the very first order—works that shed forth the sweetest perfume, and shine with the brightest luster. One of our own poets has beautifully and strikingly said, "Talk they of morals? Ο thou bleeding Lamb, The great morality is love to thee."

The dying thief exhibited this "great morality." He owned Christ when a hostile world had cast Him out, and when terror-stricken disciples had forsaken Him. " Lord, remember me," said he. "when thou comest into thy kingdom." Sweet were these words, as they fell upon the heart of the dying Savior; and sweeter still the response which fell upon the heart of the dying thief, " Today shalt thou be with me in paradise." This went far beyond the thief's expectations. The gracious Savior was about to do " exceeding abundantly, above all that" the thief " could ask or think." The thief asked to be remembered in the time of the kingdom. The Savior said, " I shall have you with me today" And, hence, when the Roman soldiers, in the discharge of their brutal functions, came to break the legs of this dying saint, he could smile and say, " Ah! these men are just coming to send me straight to heaven!"

Yes, my reader, the thief went to heaven to be with that very One who had hung beside him on the cursed tree, and spoken words of soothing power to his stricken heart. There was nothing dark, vague, or uncertain about this. The thief had never met such a friend as Jesus. No one had ever loved him like Jesus, or comforted his heart like Jesus. The grace of Jesus had poured a flood of heavenly light around that awful cross to which the thief was nailed for his crimes, and now he was going to heaven to be with that gracious One forever. This was a blessed reality. Heaven would be no strange place to him, seeing that Jesus was there.

" There no stranger-God shall meet thee—Stranger thou in courts above; He who to His rest shall greet thee, Greets thee with a well-known love."

It is happy to think of this. Heaven is much nearer, much more familiar, than we, at times, suppose. Moreover, it is the very home of that love which sheds its bright and blessed beams upon this dreary scene through which we are passing. To be with Jesus secures everything. To be in the company of the "one who loved me and gave himself for me " will make me feel quite at home in heaven. "We need not ask where is heaven? What kind of a place is it? What are its occupations? " With Jesus, "answers all these, and many more such like questions. Where the tender affections of a Father's heart flow forth in divine purity and never-varying strength—where the love of a Bridegroom glows with unabating intensity—where the fellowship of a Brother's heart, and the sympathy of a Friend are tasted in all their divine freshness and power, there is heaven, thither went the thief from his cross. " Today shalt thou be with me in paradise.'" Well may we say, " What must it be to be there?" True, the thief left his poor body behind him, until the bright morning of the resurrection, when it will be raised in incorruption, immortality, glory, and power. True it is that he, in company with all those who have fallen asleep in Jesus, waits for that happy moment. Yet it is equally true that Christ said unto him, " Today shalt thou be with me in Paradise." What a thought! To pass from the cross—the ignominious cross of a malefactor, into the paradise of God—from a scene of blasphemy, mockery, and cruelty, into the presence of Jesus. Such was the happy lot of the dying thief, not for any merit of his own, but simply through the precious sacrifice of Christ, who " entered in once into the holy place, by his own blood," and took the thief along with Him.

II. I shall now quote for my reader, the second passage in the New Testament, which bears upon our subject. It occurs in the Acts of the Apostles. "And they stoned Stephen, calling upon God, and saying, Lord Jesus, receive my spirit! And he kneeled down, and cried with a loud voice, Lord, lay not this sin to their charge. And when he had said this, he fell asleep." Chap. vii. 59, 60.

Here we have the case of a martyr—the very first of that "noble army" who have yielded up their lives for the name of Jesus. Stephen was not merely a sinner saved by grace, but also a sufferer for the cause of Christ—a sufferer even unto death. He passed from amid the stones of his murderers into the presence of his Lord, who had so recently gone before, and now stood ready to receive the spirit of His martyred servant. What an exchange! What a contrast! And be it observed that Stephen was favored with a very vivid view of the scene into which he was about to enter. " He being full of the Holy Ghost, looked up steadfastly into heaven, and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing on the right hand of God. And he said, Behold, I see the heavens opened, and the Son of man standing on the right hand of God." Wondrous sight! Heaven would be no strange place to Stephen. "The Son of man" was there, so that he should feel quite at home there. He did not, like the thief, see Jesus hanging beside him; but he saw Him up in heaven before him. He did not, like the thief, see Him dying; but he saw Him risen and glorified—crowned with glory and honor, at the right hand of the Majesty in the heavens.

Thus, then, if the thief could think of heaven as the home of that blessed One who was nailed to the cross, Stephen could look at it as the home of that One who had gone before him into glory. It was the same heaven and the same Jesus to both the one and the other. It was no vague or far off region to either. It was the happy home of the crucified and glorified Jesus. The dying malefactor might look at it from one point of view, and the dying martyr might look at it from another; but it was the same attractive, happy home to both. True it is that the martyr as well as the malefactor had to leave his poor body behind him, to sleep in the dust until the morning of the resurrection. True it is that he, too, waits for that long-expected, blissful moment. Still his spirit has been with Jesus ever since. Yes; the malefactor and the martyr have both been up yonder with their Lord, for the last eighteen hundred years. What a happy eighteen hundred years it has been to them! Not a cloud, not a ripple, not a single interruption to their communion. Their condition is one of expectancy; but it is also one of perfect repose. No conflict, no sin, no sorrow, no change. All these things are over forever with them; so that, although they are not " more secure," they are far "more happy," than we. There is something peculiarly attractive in the thought of the unbroken repose which the spirit enjoys in the presence of the crucified and glorified Jesus. To be done with a world of sin, selfishness, and sorrow—done with the ceaseless tossings and heavings of a corrupt nature—done with the ten thousand snares and devices of a subtle foe, to be forever at rest in the bosom of Jesus! What deep unutterable blessedness! Well may the spirit long to taste it.

(To be continued.)

Absent From the Body: Part 2

This leads us, naturally enough, to our third reference, which occurs in the second epistle to the Corinthians, "For we that are in this tabernacle do groan, being burdened; not that we would be unclothed, but clothed upon, that mortality might be swallowed up of life. Now he that hath wrought us for the self-same thing is God, who also hath given unto us the earnest of the Spirit Therefore we are always confident, knowing that, whilst we are at home in the body, we are absent from the Lord. (For we walk by faith not by sight.) We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord." Chap. v. 4-8.

Here, then, we have the case of any poor, groaning, burdened saint, looking forth from a crumbling, dissolving tabernacle, and sighing to get away. Not that the unclothed state is the proper object of hope. Let no one imagine this. The believer looks to the moment in which he shall be clothed upon with a glorified body like the body of Jesus. In other words, he waits for the glorious appearing of the Son from heaven. Still, it would be happy, at any moment, to lay aside a body of death, and be present with the Lord. It is far happier to wait for the day of glory, in the bosom of our loving Lord, than in this dark and dreary world. Hence, the apostle says, " We are willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord." That moment which, to an unconverted man, is death, with all its terrors, is, to the saint, simply a laying aside of all that hinders his communion with Christ. It is just getting rid of all that is mortal. What very different work the Roman soldiers did for the two thieves! They sent one to be with Jesus, and the other to that place where hope never comes. How deeply important it is for each of us to possess the confidence that, in our case, to be ' absent from the body," is to be " present with the Lord!" How truly appalling—how unspeakably dreadful—the condition of those who, when absent from the body, must be present with the devil and his angels!

IV. Let us, in conclusion, look at our fourth and last quotation, which we shall find in that lovely epistle to the Philippians: "For I am in a strait betwixt two, having a desire to depart and to be with Christ, which is far better." (Chap. 1. 23.) Here, a laborious workman looks up from amid his golden fields of labor, and breathes forth his ardent desire to get away into his Master's presence. He is in a strait. His spirit longs to depart, but he casts his affectionate eye upon those who would so sorely feel his loss, and the thought of them checks his desire. " Nevertheless, to abide in the flesh," he says to his beloved Philippians, " is more needful for you. And having this confidence, I know that I shall abide and continue with you all, for your furtherance and joy of faith." What thorough devotedness! He longs to be in heaven, but he is needed en earth, and therefore he is ready to remain. So far as he is concerned, it was " far better" to depart; but so far as others were concerned, it was " more needful" to remain; and hence, he, being full of the spirit of Christ, was ready to sacrifice himself for their profit.

Now, if my reader will just group these four scriptures together, he will not only have before his mind all that is given in the New Testament in reference to the souls of those who have departed in the faith of Christ; but he will also see that the Holy Ghost has presented the subject in such a way as to meet every possible condition in which a Christian can be found—every aspect in which he can be contemplated. In Luke 23 we see one just saved and forthwith taken to heaven. In Acts 7 we see one who was permitted to suffer martyrdom for the name of Jesus. In 2 Cor. 5 we see a groaning, burdened Christian, longing to lay aside his poor crumbling tabernacle, and be present with the Lord. In Philip, 1. we see a laborious workman, with many precious sheaves around him, looking up and sighing to find his place at his Master's feet.*

This gives great fullness, completeness, and beauty to this most interesting theme. And let my reader note, distinctly, that there is not a shadow of foundation for the idea entertained by some, that the soul is in a state of sleep while the body is in the grave. Indeed, one might reasonably suppose that, even though we had not such an overwhelming body of scripture evidence on the point, this strange idea would carry with it its own refutation. Who could admit aught so monstrous as the notion of a spirit asleep? Ah! no; the Lord Jesus did not say to the thief, " Today shalt thou be asleep." Stephen did not commit his spirit to sleep, but into the hands of his Lord. The apostle does not say, " We are willing rather to be asleep;" or, " Having a desire to be asleep, which is far better." One can only wonder how such an idea could have found a place in any rational mind. Blessed be God, His word teaches us, most clearly, that, should it be His holy will that we leave this world previous to the glorious advent of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, our place will be with Himself, in that bright and blessed world above, where sin and sorrow are unknown, there to enjoy uninterrupted communion with the One who loved us and washed us from our sins in His own blood, and there to await that moment when "the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed."

Three Grand Realities

(Read Psalm 32)

In this lovely psalm we have God presented to us in three ways. First, we have Him as our Justifier; secondly, as our Hiding-place; thirdly, as our Guide. These surely are " Three Grand Realities." Nor is it merely that God provides us with justification, security, and guidance, though even this were rich and abundant mercy and goodness; but there is far more than this, He Himself has become our Justifier, our Hiding-place, and our Guide. Wondrous provision! Such is the moral grandeur of redemption—such the way in which the God of all grace has met all our need. If God Himself is my Justifier, I must be perfectly justified. If He is my Hiding-place, I must be perfectly hidden. If He is my Guide, I must be perfectly guided.

Let us then, as guided by the light of Holy Scripture and in dependence upon the teaching of the Holy Spirit, proceed to consider, in the first place, GOD OUR JUSTIFIER.

" Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered. Blessed is the man to whom the Lord imputeth not iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no guile." " Oh! the blessedness! Transgression forgiven—sin covered." There is deeply imbedded in man's religious mind the thought that he has to meet God as a Judge—that he, as a sinner, has, in some way or another, to satisfy the claims of a righteous Judge who will deal with him about his sins, and exact the very last farthing. As the dying gypsy exclaimed, when told that he was standing at the very portal of the eternal world, " What! must I gang afore the Judge wi' a' my sins upon me!" Tremendous inquiry! If I have to meet God as a Judge, it is all over with me. "Enter not into judgment with thy servant: for in thy sight shall no man living he justified." (Psalm 143:2.) Hence, therefore, a soul, looking at God as a Judge, must be filled with terror, inasmuch as he cannot answer Him one of a thousand. " Wherewith shall I come before the Lord, and bow myself before the high God? Shall I come before him with burnt-offerings, with calves of a year old? Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, or with ten thousands of rivers of oil? Shall I give my first-born for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?" You cannot meet God as a Judge. Condemnation must be the issue of a meeting between a righteous Judge and a guilty sinner.

But, thanks be to God, He wears another character now. He is a righteous Justifier. Yes, a Justifier of such as cannot meet Him as a Judge. God must be righteous in whatever sphere He displays Himself. Whether as a Judge or a Justifier, He must be just. But, in this day of grace, during the acceptable year, the day of salvation, He is revealing Himself as "A just God and a Savior"—A righteous Savior-God. What a character! What a stupendous triumph of redeeming love! What an answer to Satan! What a balm for the convicted conscience and stricken heart! A Savior-God! It is the very title which suits a lost sinner. It brings God near to me in the very condition and character in which I find myself. If God is a Savior, it is precisely what suits me as lost. If God is a Justifier, it is exactly what I need as guilty. None but a lost sinner can have to do with a Savior-God. None but a guilty sinner can have to do with God as a righteous Justifier. Nothing can be simpler. It places salvation and justification on a basis as simple as it is solid, and as solid as it is simple. God reveals Himself as a Savior; the believing sinner walks in the light of that revelation, and is saved. God reveals Himself as a Justifier; the believing sinner walks in the light of that revelation, and is justified. He is saved and justified according to the perfect standard of God's revelation of Himself. It is impossible to stand on more solid ground, or occupy a more unassailable position than this. To touch the believer's salvation and justification is to mar the integrity of God's revelation.

And let the anxious reader remember who it is that God justifies, for this point is only second in importance to the question of who is the Justifier. Who, then, does God justify? Is it good people? Where are they? Is it those who have done their duty? Are any such to be found? Is it those who have fulfilled the law? Such would not need His justification, seeing that " the man that doeth these things shall live in them." If, therefore, a man could fulfill the law, he should have no transgression to be forgiven, no sin to be covered, and hence a Savior-God—a righteous Justifier, is not for him. This is obvious. A man who has wrought out a legal righteousness does not want an evangelical one. " If righteousness come by law, Christ has died in vain." There was no use in His dying to get us righteousness, if it could be had some other way.

Who, then, does God justify? Hear it, anxious inquirer! He justifies the ungodly. Yes; such is the veritable language of Holy Scripture. " Now to him that worketh is the reward not reckoned of grace but of debt. But to him that worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness. Even as David also describeth the blessedness of the man unto whom God imputeth righteousness without works, saying, Blessed are they whose iniquities are forgiven, and whose sins are covered. Blessed is the man to whom the Lord will not impute sin." Rom. 4:4-8.

Here then we get our answer, full, clear, distinct, and conclusive. Two characters are placed in contrast, namely, "him that worketh," and "him that worketh not," and this contrast completely upsets all man's thoughts. It never could have entered into man's mind to conceive that righteousness was to be had without working for it—that God could justify the ungodly. And yet this is the very doctrine of Scripture. If man could get righteousness by working for it, then clearly it would not be divine righteousness, for the simplest of all reasons, that this latter is to " him that worketh not." If God reveals Himself as the Justifier of the ungodly, then is it a sheer denial of the revelation for man to come before Him in any other character. If I, as a sinner, bring my duties to God, I must meet Him as a Judge, for surely He must judge my duties to see if they are all right. But if I bring my sins to Him, He meets me as a Justifier with a full and free forgiveness and an everlasting righteousness. The peculiar glory of the gospel is that it reveals God as the righteous Justifier of poor ungodly sinners.

This is a marvelous truth. And if it be asked, as surely it must, by every exercised conscience, on what ground does this grand reality hold good? The answer is as clear and satisfactory as the most anxious soul can possibly desire. It is this—God, as a Judge, dealt with my sins at the cross, in order that God as a Justifier might deal with me at heaven's side of the empty tomb of Jesus. The death of Christ, therefore, forms the ground on which God can righteously justify the ungodly. A righteous Judge condemned sin on the cross, that a righteous Justifier might pardon and justify the guilty. What a profound mystery! Well may angels desire to look into it,· and well may sinners, whom it so blessedly concerns, bless and praise Him who has counseled, revealed, and wrought it all for them through the accomplished atonement of Christ.

And here we would pause a moment in order to put a plain, pointed question to the reader. Dear friend, do you know God as your Justifier? Or, are you still thinking of meeting Him as a Judge? Are you looking forward to the judgment-seat as the place where the question of your justification is to be settled? If so, you must be miserable. You can never enjoy true peace until you know and believe that God as a Judge has nothing against you as a sinner j nay more, that He Himself is your Justifier; that, in the death and resurrection of Christ, He has revealed Himself as a just God and a Savior to you, an ungodly sinner. This is the solid and unassailable ground of peace; and we most earnestly pray you to ponder it. If you are really anxious about your soul's salvation, you need not lay down this paper until you possess divine certainty that you are justified, and that God is your Justifier. Blessed certainty! May you know it now, through simply believing on Him who justifieth the ungodly, and you will then be able to follow us, with intelligence and comfort, while we dwell, in the second place, on

GOD OUR HIDING-PLACE.

It is a remarkable fact, that so long as the sinner is at enmity with God, he is at peace with himself; at peace with the world; at peace with the devil; but the moment he is brought into full peace with God, he is at war with himself, with the world, and with the devil. Hence, no sooner do I know God as my Justifier than I have to cope with a host of spiritual enemies, within and around. This makes me conscious of another need; I want a hiding-place into which I may retreat at all times, nay, rather out of which I may never venture to show myself. Now, God is this Hiding-place. " Thou art my hiding-place; thou shalt preserve me from trouble; thou shalt compass me about with songs of deliverance." What a difference between the condition of the soul here and in the third and fourth verses! "When I kept silence, my bones waxed old through my roaring all the day long. For day and night thy hand was heavy upon me: my moisture is turned into the drought of summer." What a contrast between the "roaring" of a sin-burdened soul-fearing judgment, and the " songs of deliverance" of a justified soul, hidden in God! And yet it is far better to roar in disquietude of spirit, than to cry, Peace, peace, where there is no peace. True anxiety is vastly to be preferred to a false peace. But the believer has neither the one nor the other. His anxiety has been hushed into truthful repose by the knowledge of God as his Justifier and his Hiding-place; and therefore instead of the roarings of disquietude, he can sing songs of deliverance. Blessed exchange! Instead of crying out, " Oh! the wretchedness!" he can sing aloud, " Oh! the blessedness!" " Thou shalt compass me about with songs of deliverance." " If God be for us, who can be against us?" " Thanks be to God who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." " Now thanks be to God which always causeth us to triumph in Christ, and maketh manifest the savor of his knowledge by us in every place."

These are some of the " songs of deliverance" with which a Savior-God doth compass about His justified and hidden ones. Would that we were more filled with them! Alas! that we should be more characterized by murmurings and complainings, than by songs of triumph. Surely, if we would but ponder our mercies and blessings more deeply, our songs would be more abundant. Who have such reason to be glad as those who are justified by, and perfectly hidden in, God?

But we must close this paper by a brief reference to the third point in this lovely scripture, namely, GOD OUR GUIDE.

This we may truly say is a grand reality. Yes, and we want it as we pass along through the labyrinths of this wilderness-world, in this day of perplexity and confusion. We want a Guide, and God has undertaken to fill that office for us. " I will instruct thee, and teach thee in the way which thou shalt go: I will guide thee with mine eye." What precious grace! It is as though our God would meet us at each stage of our path, and manifest Himself in the very character in which we need Him. When bowed down with guilt, and roaring in disquietude, our bones waxing old, and our moisture dried up, He shines before us as our Justifier—our Savior-God—pardoning our transgressions, and covering our sins. When surrounded by hosts of spiritual enemies, who would crush us in a moment, He opens His bosom to us, and invites us (o find, in Himself, a retreat and a hiding-place from them all; so that, instead of feeling ourselves compassed with foes, we are compassed with songs. And, finally, when called to pass through scenes of confusion and perplexity, He, in infinite grace, stands before us and says, " I will guide thee." What grace! What nearness! What intimacy!

And mark the way He guides. " I will guide thee with mine eye" This, as we know, is the most tender, delicate, and affectionate description of guidance. We must be very intimate with a person, and very near him, in order to be guided by the movement of his eye. It is a far more refined and exquisite sort of guidance than the movement of the hand, or the sound of the voice. I must be gazing directly into a person's face in order to catch the glance of his eye; and I must be intimately acquainted with his wishes and his ways, in order to interpret the glance and act upon it.

Ο that we entered more fully into all this! Would that the guidance of our Father's eye were ever sufficient for us! Would that we could just place our hand in His, and, gazing up into His countenance, be ever guided by the movement of His eye! Then would our path be clear and safe, simple and happy. We should not, like the impetuous " horse," or the obstinate " mule," require the " bit and bridle" of circumstances; but through communion with His mind we should know His will. How often are we at a loss as to our path! How often are we ill at ease! And why? Because the guidance of the eye is not under stood We ask God for guidance in reference to movements which He does not want us to make, and as to paths in which He does not want us to tread. " I don't know which way to turn," said some one lately to a Christian friend. What was the reply? A very simple one. " Don't turn at all." Just so. If you don't see your way as to moving, it is very obvious you should stand still.

May all the people of God be enabled, by His Spirit, to walk as justified ones, to abide in their hiding-place, and follow their Guide!

Alone With Jesus

(Road John 8:1-11.)

The more closely and prayerfully we study the four gospels, the more clearly do we see the distinct design of the Holy Ghost in each, and the perfect way in which He has pursued and carried out that design, even in the most minute details. The grand theme of each is Christ; but in no two of the gospels is He presented in the same way. In Matthew, we have Him as the Messiah—Son of Abraham, Son of David—a Jew—Heir of the promises made to the fathers—Heir of the throne of David—Fulfiller of the prophecies—presented to Israel, according to their own scriptures, and deliberately rejected.

Such is the distinct object of the Holy Ghost in Matthew—such His marked design. This He pursues throughout, with unswerving faithfulness. To this end everything is made subservient. With a view to this He culls, groups, and arranges His materials. For this, chronological order is set aside without hesitation and without apology. Scenes and circumstances, separated by many months, are grouped together, by the skilful hand of the Holy Ghost, for the specific purpose of presenting His subject in perfect keeping with the scope and design of the entire gospel, from which He never diverges the breadth of a hair. In a word, Matthew groups for dispensational ends. His is what we may venture to call the great dispensational gospel. Thus much as to Matthew.

In Mark, we have our blessed Lord as the Servant the perfect Workman—the divine Minister—the indefatigable Preacher and Teacher, whose days were given to work, and His nights to prayer—who could hardly find time to eat or sleep—the most laborious Worker that ever wrought in God's great harvest held. Mark tells us, by the Holy Ghost, what the Savior did and how He did it. His gospel is a marvelous record of work, from first to last. We have no record of our Lord's birth—no genealogical chain stretching away back to David, to Abraham, or to Adam. There was no need to trace the pedigree of One who came to serve—to work—to toil night and day. The question in Mark is not so much who He was, as what He did. We are simply told that He was " Jesus Christ, the Son of God," and forthwith the inspired penman plunges into his subject, and gives us a rapid survey of a life of unparalleled labor—a path of service pursued with tin-flinching decision, from the manger of Bethlehem to the cross of Calvary—resumed in resurrection and carried on from the right hand of the Majesty in the heavens. See Mark 16:19, 20.

Thus much as to Mark, who, we may further add, observes throughout the strict historical order. It is important for the reader to note this, as it will enable him to see the instances in which both Matthew and Luke depart from strict chronological sequence.

Luke gives us " The man Christ Jesus." Such is preeminently his theme. Hence he gives us the pedigree traced up, not merely to David and Abraham, but to Adam and to God. It is not the Messiah, nor the Jew nor the worker, but the man. All that is exquisitely human we have in Luke, just as we have all that is purely Jewish in Matthew, all that is directly ministerial in Mark. Luke groups for moral ends, as Matthew for dispensational purposes. Mark does not group; he simply records, in historic order, the facts of our Lord's marvelous ministry.

Now, before turning to that gospel from which the subject of this paper is selected, we would request the reader's earnest attention to what we have stated in reference to the three synoptical gospels, as they have been called. We would ask him to study the gospels for himself; to compare the passages diligently; to seek to understand why Matthew or Luke departs, in any given case, from the exact order of time; to ask God to teach him, by His Holy Spirit, the true reason for every such departure. In this way, we feel persuaded, he will reap a rich harvest of blessing. He will obtain a deeper insight into the infinite wisdom that dictated those peerless documents. He will rise from his study with a more profound faith in the plenary inspiration of these wonderful narratives.

Furthermore, he will see that those very passages in which the rationalist, the skeptic, or the infidel has sought to find flaws and discrepancies, present the most striking and exquisite proofs of divine wisdom and marked design. He will be convinced that there is no standing-ground between these two conclusions, that the evangelists were either divinely inspired, or they were the most senseless narrators that ever put pen to paper. That they were divinely inspired is proved in every page, in every paragraph, in every line. The internal evidence is perfectly irresistible; and hence it follows that these inspired writers could no more clash one with another than two heavenly bodies, while pursuing their divinely appointed orbits, could come in collision. If, therefore, there seem to be a discrepancy, it is simply because of our ignorance. Let us devoutly own this, and wait for further light.

We shall now proceed with our immediate theme.

The Gospel of John has a character peculiarly its own. In it the Holy Ghost unfolds to our view the Person of the Son of God—the Word—the Eternal Life—the true God. It is not the Messiah, as in Matthew—not the Minister, as in Mark—not the social Man, as in Luke; but the Son, what He was in Himself from all eternity; what He was, though rejected by Israel and the world at large; what He was to any poor way-worn, heavy laden, sin-burdened creature who crossed His blessed path.

Such is the lofty theme of the divinely inspired John. And what is so peculiarly touching is, that while he gives us the very highest possible view of the Blessed One—the most glorious revelation of the Person of the Son—he, nevertheless, continually shows Him to us alone with the sinner. This surely is a fact full of sweetness, comfort, and divine power for us.

Let us look at the opening paragraph of John 8—a paragraph that bears upon its every clause the stamp of divine inspiration. Our blessed Lord, having spent His night on the lonely mountain top, is found, early in the morning, at His post, teaching the people in the temple. Into His holy and gracious presence, the scribes and Pharisees bring a poor convicted sinner—one respecting whom there could be no possible mistake—one who had openly and flagrantly broken the law of Moses. They quote the law against her. " Moses in the law commanded us that such should be stoned; but what sayest thou?"

Here then was a case. These men, no doubt, thought to involve our Lord in a dilemma. They wanted to bring Him into collision with Moses—to make it appear that He was throwing the law overboard. This might seem very clever; but ah! what is cleverness in the presence of God? Still their purpose was obvious. If He had said, " Stone her," they might pronounce Him no better than Moses. If, on the other hand, He had said, " You must not stone her," then He was making void the law. But He said neither. " The law was given by Moses," and the Lord allows it to stand in all its majesty, in all its stringency, in all its force. He came not to destroy the law, but to magnify it in the very highest possible manner, both in His life and in His death.

It is a very grave error indeed to suppose that the law is set aside. So far from this, the apostle, in his first epistle to Timothy, declares that, " The law is good if a man use it lawfully." If the law were dead or set aside, it could not be said to be good for anything, for that which is dead is good for nothing. What then is the law good for? Not for justification, but for conviction—not as a rule of life, but as a rule of death.

It is thus our Lord uses it in the scene now before us. He turns the sharp edge of the law right back against the men who had quoted it against a poor fellow sinner. With those men He could have no sympathy whatever. They had conducted this woman into His presence in order to have judgment pronounced and executed upon her. But He had not come to judge, but to save. And yet, as He says, at verse 16, if He judged, His judgment was true—oh! how true in the case of the scribes and Pharisees! They had accused the sinner, and they would fain accuse the Savior; but He makes them accuse themselves. "Jesus stooped down, and with his finger wrote on the ground." There He was the great Lawgiver Himself, the very One whose finger had written the first set of tables. How little they knew this! They were quoting the law against a fellow sinner, in order to find occasion against the Lawgiver. What a position for men to find themselves in! In the presence of the Lawgiver, quoting the law, themselves guilty before Him!

There is something awfully interesting here. Indeed there is not such a scene anywhere else in the sacred canon. It is perfectly unique. Little did these men know what they were doing for the poor convicted one, and for untold millions besides, when they led her into the presence of Jesus. Her very best friends could not have done better for her.

But let us pursue the marvelous narrative. " So, when they continued asking him, he lifted up himself, and said unto them, He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her." They were determined to have an answer, and truly He let them have one If they would place Him, before the time, in the judgment seat, He must judge all. He could not give a partial judgment. He could not judge one and let another pass. In point of fact, He judged no man. The object of His blessed mission to a world of sinners was not judgment, but salvation. He came not to cast a stone at a poor, guilty sinner. They could never get Him to engage in such work, blessed forever be His glorious name. How could a divine Savior cast the stone of judgment at a lost convicted sinner? Impossible. If there was a sinless one among them, let him proceed to do the work of judgment. No doubt the sinner was guilty, and moreover, the sentence of Moses was as distinct as possible; but where was the executioner? This was the puzzling question. Who could dare to lift the first stone?

What a complete turning of the tables is here! What becomes of all the cleverness? What an intensely interesting moment! What principle was at stake! There is the sinner—there is the law—there too is the Lawgiver; but who will presume, in His presence, to execute the sentence? This is the point? "And again he stooped down, and wrote on the ground." Does this remind us of the writing of the second set of tables that were enclosed in the ark and covered with the mercy seat? Is there anything significant, anything suggestive, in these two writings on the ground? One thing is clear, namely, that conscience was set to work. " They which heard it, being convicted by their own conscience, went out one by one, beginning at the eldest, unto the last: and Jesus was left alone, and the woman standing in the midst."

Nothing can exceed the moral power of all this. These Scribes and Pharisees are driven out by the intense power of the light that was shining upon them. They could not stand it. Neither human cleverness nor human righteousness can stand the test of the divine presence. These men were wrapped up in the cloak of their own fancied sanctity, and hence they could not endure the light. In order to be able to abide in the presence of God, we must take our true place as utterly lost, guilty, and undone—no cloak—no righteousness—no holiness—no wisdom—not one jot or tittle of anything good in ourselves. But the scribes and Pharisees were not on this ground at all. They were men of character—men of weight—men of reputation, in the world; and the light of what God is—God in Christ—was shining, in full blaze upon them, and they dare not say they were without sin, and all that remained was for them to make their escape as speedily as possible from the action of a light that was reading them through and through.

But why did they begin with the eldest? Why was he the first to retreat? Because he had the greatest reputation to maintain—the character of highest standing to support. No one who has a reputation to maintain—a name or a character to keep up, amongst his fellows, can stand for a moment in the light of the presence of God. Such an one can do well enough in the presence of his fellows; he can get on in the world inasmuch as there such are highly esteemed. A man of character is respected amongst men. But let us remember these solemn and salutary words, " That which is highly esteemed among men is abomination in the sight of God." God values a broken heart, a contrite spirit, a lowly mind. " To this man will I look, even to him who is of a broken and contrite spirit, and trembleth at my word." Now the scribes and Pharisees were the direct opposite of all this, and hence they could find no place in the presence of Jesus.

" They went out," not in a crowd, not promiscuous^', but " one by one." Conscience is an individual thing. Had they remained, they must strip off their cloaks, and cry out, "Just as I am, without one plea." For this they were not prepared. They were thoroughly confounded, and sent about their business. The Light of the world was shining in the full luster of His heavenly beams, and these muffled men could not endure His brightness, and so they went out and left the poor sinner alone with Jesus.

Blessed moment for her! The whole scene cleared. No answer, no sentence—no executioner—not a single stone of judgment. How was this? Was she not a sinner? Yes, a flagrant one. Was not the law against her? No doubt. How was it then? Jesus was there—the divine embodiment of "grace and truth," and He was not going to stone a poor convicted sinner. It was not for such an object that He had left that bright and blessed world above. Had it been only a question of stoning the sinner, Moses could have managed that. There was no need for Moses' Master to come down into this world.

But oh! there was grace in the heart of Jesus—yes, grace and truth, and truth and grace. Both shine out, with peculiar luster, in this truly inimitable scene. "Truth," in its mighty moral force, had driven the accusers from the scene; and now "grace," in all its sweetness and soothing power, rises with healing in its wings upon the soul of the poor trembling sinner, and sounds in her ears these precious words, "Neither do I condemn thee." Precious accents! sweet, ineffably sweet, to a broken heart and contrite spirit! gladdening beyond expression to one who had, a moment before, been expecting the stones of judgment to fall thick upon her guilty head. Mercy rejoices over judgment; and grace reigns through righteousness, unto eternal life, by Jesus Christ our Lord.

Yes, that blessed One knew what it was to cost Him to speak such words in the ear of a sinner. It was to cost Him His life. That woman deserved to die. There could be no question about that. " The soul that sinneth shall die" was the stern sentence of God's law—the solemn enactment of His government. Was Jesus going to reverse this sentence? Nay; but He was going to bear it in the sinner's stead. He, the sinless One who alone had the right to cast the stone at the sinner, was to expose Himself to the stroke of justice, and have the stone cast at Him.

Such is the solid basis on which the glorious ministry of reconciliation rests—the atoning death of Christ—His giving Himself the just for the unjust. It will perhaps be said that there is nothing about atonement in John 8 True; the great subject of the entire Gospel of John is the Person, not the atoning work of the Son. But it is needful, nay essential, for us to know the ground on which our blessed Lord could speak those words of balm and consolation in a sinner's ear, " Neither do I condemn thee." That ground is, unquestionably, His sacrificial atoning death. In no other way—on no other ground, could sin be passed, remitted, or blotted out. " Without shedding of blood is no remission." Solemn yet glorious words! Solemn, as letting us know what sin is. Glorious, as letting us know what remission is.

But let us carefully mark the authority on which the woman knew she was not condemned. What was it? Simply the word of Jesus. She knew it because He said it. Blessed authority—nothing like it—none other but it. Christ's work the basis—His word the authority. How simple! How solid! How satisfactory! Nothing can touch it. All the powers of earth and hell—men and devils, cannot shake this foundation—the foundation of a divine work, a divine word—a foundation on which the reader who needs and desires it, may rest this moment, and rest forever.

The scribes and Pharisees knew nothing of this ground or this authority. If they had met the woman on her way out from the Lord's presence, and questioned her as to the issue of her interview, how they would have scorned the idea of " no condemnation!" They would have sent her to a reformatory or a penitentiary, and after some years of moral reform they might begin to admit that there was some faint hope for such a wretched creature. But ah! what a sorry basis is moral reform!—what a poor authority is a human certificate! No, reader; it will never do—never stand—never suit either for God or for thy precious soul. It must be all divine. And so it is, blessed be God! Christ did the work—God speaks the word—faith behaves and fills the heart with peace and joy. Nor this only. The same grace that fills the heart with peace, gives power over sin in all its workings. For let it never be forgotten that an indissoluble link binds together these two utterances, "No condemnation"—"Sin no more." Grace shines in the one; holiness breathes in the other.

The Closing Scenes of Malachi and Jude

In comparing these two inspired writings, we find many points of similarity, and many points of contrast. Both the prophet and apostle portray scenes of ruin, corruption, and apostasy. The former is occupied with the ruin of Judaism; the latter with the ruin of Christendom. The prophet Malachi, in his very opening sentences, gives, with uncommon vividness, the source of Israel's blessing, and the secret of their fall. "I have loved you, saith the Lord." Here was the grand source of all their blessedness, all their glory, all their dignity. Jehovah's love accounts for all the bright glory of Israel's past, and all the brighter glories of Israel's future. While, on the other hand, their bold and infidel challenge, "Wherein hast thou loved us?" accounts for the deepest depths of Israel's present degradation. To put such a question, after all that Jehovah had done for them, from the days of Moses to the days of Solomon, proved a condition of heart insensible to the very last degree. Those who, with the marvelous history of Jehovah's actings before their eyes, could say, " Wherein hast thou loved us?" were beyond the reach of all moral appeal. Hence, therefore, we need not be surprised at the prophet's burning words. We are prepared for such sentences as the following: "If then I be a father, where is mine honor? and if I be a master, where is my fear? saith the Lord of hosts unto you, Ο priests, that despise my name. And ye say, Wherein have we despised thy name?" There was the most thorough insensibility both as to the Lord's love, and as to their own evil ways. There was the hardness of heart that could say, "Wherein hast thou loved us?" and •'Wherein have we wronged thee?" And all this with the history of a thousand years before then• eyes—a history overlapped by the unexampled grace, mercy, and patience of God—a history stained, from first to last, with the record of their unfaithfulness, folly, and sin.

But let us hearken to the prophet's further utterances, or rather to the touching remonstrances of the aggrieved and offended God of Israel. " Ye offer polluted bread upon mine altar; and ye say, Wherein have we polluted thee? In that ye say, The table of the Lord is contemptible. And if ye offer the blind for sacrifice, is it not evil? and if ye offer the lame and sick, is it not evil? offer it now unto thy governor; will he be pleased with thee, or accept thy person? saith the Lord of hosts... who is there even among you that would shut the doors for naught? neither do ye kindle fire on mine altar for naught. I have no pleasure in you, saith the Lord of hosts, neither will I accept an offering at your hand. For from the rising of the sun even unto the going down of the same, my name shall be great among the Gentiles; and in every place incense shall be offered unto my name, and a pure offering; for my name shall be great among the heathen, saith the Lord of hosts. But ye have profaned it, in that ye say, The table of the Lord is polluted; and the fruit thereof, even his meat, is contemptible. Ye said also, Behold, what a weariness is it! and ye have snuffed at it, saith the Lord of hosts; and ye brought that which was torn, and the lame, and the sick; thus ye brought an offering: should I accept this of your hand? saith the Lord."

Here then we have a sad and dreary picture of Israel's moral condition. The public worship of God had fallen into utter contempt. His altar was insulted; His service despised. As to the priests, it was a mere question of filthy lucre; and as to the people, the whole thing had become a perfect weariness—an empty formality—a dull and heartless routine. There was no heart for God. There was plenty of heart for gain. Any sacrifice, however maimed and torn, was deemed good enough for the altar of God.

The lame, the blind, and the sick, the very worst that could be had, such as they would not dare to offer to a human governor, was laid on the altar of God. And if a door was to be opened, or a fire kindled, it must be paid for. No pay, no work. Such was the lamentable condition of things in the days of Malachi. It makes the heart sick to contemplate it.

But, thanks and praise be to God, there is another side of the picture. There were some rare and lovely exceptions to the gloomy rule—some striking and beautiful forms standing out in relief from the dark background. It is truly refreshing, in the midst of all this venality and corruption, coldness and hollowness. barrenness and heartlessness, pride and stoutness of heart, to read such words as these: "Then they that feared the Lord spake often one to another; and the Lord hearkened, and heard it, and a book of remembrance was written before him for them that feared the Lord, and that thought upon his name."

How precious is this brief record! How delightful to contemplate this remnant in the midst of the moral ruin! There is no pretension, or assumption; no attempt to set up anything; no effort to reconstruct the fallen economy; no affected display of power. There is felt weakness, and looking to Jehovah; and this—be it observed and ever remembered—is the true secret of all real power. We need never be afraid of conscious weakness. It is affected strength that we have to dread and shrink from. " When I am weak, then am I strong " is ever the rule for the people of God—a blessed rule, most surely. God is to be counted upon always; and we may lay it down as a great root principle, that, no matter what may be the actual state of the professing body, individual faith can enjoy communion with God according to the very highest truth of the dispensation.

This is a grand principle to grasp and hold fast. Let the ostensible people of God be ever so sunk, individuals who judge and humble themselves before God can enjoy His presence and blessing, without let or limit. Witness the Daniels, the Mordecais, the Ezras, the Nehemiahs, the Josiahs, and Hezekiahs, and scores of others who walked with God, carried out the highest principles and enjoyed the rarest privileges of the dispensation, when all lay in hopeless ruin around them. There was a passover celebrated in the days of Josiah such as had not been known from the days of Samuel the prophet. (2 Chron. 35:18.) The feeble remnant, on their return from Babylon, celebrated the feast of tabernacles, a privilege which had not been tasted since the days of Joshua the son of Nun. (Neh. 8:17.) Mordecai, without ever striking a blow, gained as splendid a victory over Amalek as that achieved by Joshua in the days of Exod. 17 (Esther 6:11, 12.) In the book of Daniel we see earth's proudest monarch prostrate at the feet of a captive Jew.

What do all these cases teach us? What lesson do they tell out in our ears? Simply that the humble, believing, and obedient soul is permitted to enjoy the very deepest and richest communion with God, spite of the failure and ruin of God's professing people, and the departed glory of the dispensation in which his lot is cast.

Thus it was, as we may see, in the closing scenes of Malachi. All was in hopeless ruin; but that did not hinder those who loved and feared the Lord getting together to speak about Him and to muse upon His precious name. True, that feeble remnant was not like the great congregation which assembled in the days of Solomon, from Dan to Beersheba; but it had a glory peculiar to itself. It had the divine presence in a way no less marvelous though not so striking. We are not told of any " book of remembrance" in the days of Solomon. We are not told of Jehovah's hearkening and hearing. Perhaps it may he said, there was no need. Be it so; but that does not dim the luster of the grace that shone upon the little band in the days of Malachi. We may boldly affirm that Jehovah's heart was as refreshed by the loving breathings of that little band as by the splendid sacrifice in the days of Solomon's dedication. Their love shines out all the brighter in contrast with the heartless formalism of the professing body, and the venal corruption of the priests.

" And they shall be mine, saith the Lord of hosts, in that day when I make up my jewels; and I will spare them, as a man spareth his own son that serveth him. Then shall ye return, and discern between the righteous and the wicked, between him that serveth God and him that serveth him not. For, behold, the day cometh, that shall burn as an oven; and all the proud, yea, and all that do wickedly, shall be stubble; and the day that cometh shall burn them up, saith the Lord of hosts, that it shall leave them neither root nor branch. But unto you that fear my name shall the Sun of righteousness arise with healing in his wings; and ye shall go forth, and grow up as calves of the stall. And ye shall tread down the wicked; for they shall be ashes under the soles of your feet in the day that I shall do this, saith the Lord of hosts."

We shall now give a hasty glance at the epistle of Jude. Here we have a still more appalling picture of apostasy and corruption. It is a familiar saying amongst us, that the corruption of the best tiling is the worst corruption; and hence it is that the Apostle Jude spreads before us a page so very much darker and more awful than that presented by the prophet Malachi. It is the record of man's utter failure and ruin under the very highest and richest privileges which could be conferred upon him.

In the opening of his solemn address, the apostle lets us know that it was laid upon His heart " to write unto us of the common salvation." This would have been his far more delightful task. It would have been his joy and his refreshment to expatiate upon the present privileges and future glories wrapped up in the comprehensive folds of that precious word "salvation." But he felt it " needful" to turn from this more congenial work in order to fortify our souls against the rising tide of error and evil which threatened the very foundations of Christianity. " Beloved, when I gave all diligence to write unto you of the common salvation, it was needful for me to write unto you, and exhort you that ye should earnestly contend for the faith which was once delivered unto the saints." All that was vital and fundamental was at stake. It was a question of earnestly contending for the faith itself. " For there are certain men crept in unawares, who were before of old ordained to this condemnation; ungodly men, turning the grace of our God into lasciviousness, and denying the only Lord God, and our Lord Jesus Christ."

This is for worse than anything we have in Malachi. There it was a question of the law; as we read, " Remember ye the law of Moses my servant, which I commanded unto him in Horeb for all Israel, with the statutes and judgments." But in Jude it is not a question of forgetting the law, but of actually turning into lasciviousness the pure and precious grace of God, and denying the Lordship of Christ. Hence, therefore, instead of dwelling upon the salvation of God, the apostle seeks to fortify us against the wickedness and lawlessness of men. " I will therefore," he says, " put you in remembrance, though ye once knew this, how that the Lord, having saved the people out of the land of Egypt, afterward destroyed them that believed not. And the angels which kept not their first estate, but left their own habitation, he hath reserved in everlasting chains under darkness unto the judgment of the great day."

All this is most solemn; but we cannot dwell upon the dark features of this scene, space does not admit of our so doing; and besides, we rather desire to present to the Christian reader the charming picture of the Christian remnant given in the closing lines of this most searching scripture. As in Malachi we have, amid the helpless ruin of Judaism, a devoted band of Jewish worshippers who loved and feared the Lord and took sweet counsel together, so in the epistle of Jude, amid the more appalling ruins of christian profession, the Holy Ghost introduces to our notice a company whom He addresses as " Beloved." These are " sanctified by God the Father, and preserved in Jesus Christ, and called." These He solemnly warns against the varied forms of error and evil which were already beginning to make their appearance, but have since assumed such awfully formidable proportions. To these He turns, with the most exquisite grace, and addresses the following exhortation, " But ye, beloved, building up yourselves on your most holy faith, praying in the Holy Ghost, keep yourselves in the love of God, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life."

Here, then, we have divine security against all the dark and terrible forms of apostasy—"the way of Cain, the error of Balaam, the gainsaying of Core"—" the murmurers and complainers"—"the great swelling words"- "the raging waves"- "the wandering stars"—"having men's persons in admiration because of advantage." The "beloved" are to "build themselves up on their most holy faith."

Let the reader note this. There is not a syllable here about an order of men to succeed the apostles; not a word about gifted men of any sort. It is well to see this, and to bear it ever in mind. We hear a great deal of our lack of gift and power, of our not having pastors and teachers. How could we expect to have much gift and power? Do we deserve them? Alas! we have failed, and sinned, and come short. Let us own this, and cast ourselves upon the living God who never fails a trusting heart.

Look at Paul's touching address to the elders of Ephesus, in Acts 20 To whom does he there commend us, in view of the passing away of apostolic ministry? Is there a word about successors to the apostles? Not one, unless indeed it be the " grievous wolves" of which he speaks, or those men who were to arise in the very bosom of the Church, speaking perverse things to draw away disciples after them. What then is the resource of the faithful? " I commend you to God, and to the word of his grace, which is able to build you up, and to give you an inheritance among all them which are sanctified."

What a precious resource! Not a word about gifted men, valuable as such may be in their right place. God forbid we should, in any way, depreciate the gifts which, spite of all the failure and sin, our gracious Lord may see fit to bestow upon His Church. But still it holds good that the blessed apostle, in taking leave of the Church, commends us not to gifted men, but to God Himself and the word of His grace. And hence it follows that, let our weakness be ever so great, we have God to look to and to lean upon. He never fails those who trust Him; and there is no limit whatsoever to the blessing which our souls may taste, if only we look to God, in humility of mind and childlike confidence.

Here lies the secret of all true blessedness and spiritual power—humility of mind, and simple confidence. There must, on the one hand, be no assumption of power; and on the other, we must not, in the unbelief of our hearts, limit the goodness and faithfulness of our God. He can and does bestow gifts for the edification of His people. He would bestow much more if we were not so ready to manage for ourselves. If the Church would but look more to Christ her living Head and loving Lord, instead of to the arrangements of men, and the appliances of this world, she would have a very different tale to tell. But if we, by our unbelieving plans, and our restless efforts to provide a machinery for ourselves, quench, and hinder, and grieve the Holy Ghost, need we marvel if we are left to prove the barrenness and emptiness, the desolation and confusion of all such things? Christ is sufficient: but He must be proved; He must be trusted; He must be allowed to act. The platform must be left perfectly clear for the Holy Ghost to display thereon the preciousness, the fullness, the all-sufficiency of Christ.

But it is precisely in this very thing we so signally fail. "We try to hide our weakness instead of owning it. We seek to cover our nakedness by a drapery of our own providing, instead of confiding simply and entirely in Christ for all we need. We grow weary of the attitude of humble patient waiting, and we are in haste to put on an appearance of strength. This is our folly and our grievous loss. If we could only be induced to believe it, our real strength is to know our weakness, and cling to Christ, in artless faith, from day to day.

It is to this most excellent way that the apostle Jude exhorts the christian remnant in his closing lines. " Ye, beloved, building up yourselves in your most holy faith." These words evidently set forth the responsibility of all true Christians to be found together instead of being divided and scattered. We are to help one another in love, according to the measure of grace bestowed, and the nature of the gift communicated. It is a mutual thing—"building up yourselves." It is not looking to an order of men; nor is it complaining of our lack of gifts; but simply doing each what we can to promote the common blessing and profit of all.

The reader will notice the four things which we are exhorted to do, namely, "Building"—"Praying"—"Keeping" " Looking." What blessed work is here! Yes, and it is work for all. There is not one true Christian on the face of the earth who cannot fulfill any or all of these branches of ministry; indeed every one is responsible so to do. We can build ourselves up on our most holy faith; we can pray in the Holy Ghost; we can keep ourselves in the love of God; and, while doing these things, we can look out for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ.

But, it maybe asked, "Who arc the 'beloved?' to whom does the term apply?" Our answer is, " To whomsoever it may concern." Let us see to it that we are on the ground of those to whom the precious title applies. It is not assuming the title, but occupying the true moral ground. It is not empty profession, but real possession. It is not affecting the name, but being the thing.

Nor does the responsibility of the christian remnant end here. It is not merely of themselves they have to think. They are to cast a loving look and stretch forth a helping hand beyond the circumference of their own circle. " And of some have compassion, making a difference: and others save with fear, pulling them out of the fire; hating even the garment spotted by the flesh." Who are the "some?" and who are the " others?" Is there not the same beautiful undefinedness about these as there is about the "Beloved?" These latter will be at no loss to find out the former. There are precious souls scattered υρ and down amid the appalling ruins of Christendom, " some" of them to be looked upon with tender compassion, " others" to be saved with godly fear, lest the " beloved" should become involved in the defilement.

It is a fatal mistake to suppose that, in order to pluck people out of the fire, we must go into the fire ourselves. This would never do. The best way to deliver people from an evil position is to be thoroughly out of that position myself. How can I best pull a man out of a morass? Surely not by going into the morass, but by standing on firm ground and from thence lending him a helping hand. I cannot pull a man out of anything unless I am out myself. If we want to help the people of God who are mixed up with the surrounding ruin, the first thing for ourselves is to be in thorough and decided separation; and the next thing is to have our hearts brimful and flowing over with tender and fervent love to all who bear the precious name of Jesus.

Here we must close; and in doing so we shall quote for the reader that blessed doxology with which the apostle sums up his solemn and weighty address. " Now unto him that is able to keep you from falling, and to present you faultless before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy, to the only wise God our Savior, be glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and ever. Amen." We have a great deal about " falling" in this epistle—Israel, falling—angels, falling—cities, falling; but, blessed be God, there is One who is able to keep us from falling, and it is to His holy keeping we are committed.

Authority and Power

If ever there was a moment, in the history of the professing church, in which it behooved people to have divine authority for their path, and divine power to pursue it, this is the moment. There are so many conflicting opinions, so many jarring voices, so many opposing schools, so many contending parties, that we are in danger, at all points, of losing our balance and being carried we know not whither. We find the very best of men ranged on opposite sides of the same question—men who, so far as we can judge, seem to have a single eye to the glory of Christ, and to take the word of God as their sole authority in all things.

What, then, is a simple soul to do? How is one to get on, in the face of all this? Is there no peaceful haven in the which to anchor one's tiny barque, away from the wild tossing of the stormy ocean of human opinion? Yes, blessed be God there is; and the reader may know the deep blessedness of casting anchor there this very moment. It is the sweet privilege of the very simplest child of God, the merest babe in Christ, to have divine authority for his path and divine power to pursue it—authority for his position, and power to occupy it—authority for his work, and power to do it.

What is it! Where is it! The authority is found in the divine word; the power is found in the divine presence. Thus it is, blessed be God; and each and all may know it—ought to know it, for the stability of their path and the joy of their heart.

In contemplating the present condition of professing christians generally, one is struck with this very painful fact, that so few, so very few, are prepared to face scripture, on all points and in all matters, personal, domestic, commercial and ecclesiastical. If the question of the soul's salvation be settled—and alas! how rarely it is settled—then, verily, people consider themselves at liberty to break away from the sacred domain of scripture, and launch forth upon the wild watery waste of human opinion and human will, where each one may think for himself, and choose for himself, and act for himself.

Now, nothing is more certain than this, that, where it is merely a question of human opinion, human will, or human judgment, there is not a shadow of authority- not a particle of power. No human opinion has any authority over the conscience; nor can it impart any power to the soul. It may go for what it is worth; but it has neither authority nor power for me. I must have God's word and God's presence, else I cannot get on. If aught, no matter what, comes in between my conscience and the word of God, I know not where I am, what to do, or whither to turn. And if aught, no matter what, comes in between my heart and the presence of God, I am perfectly powerless. The word of my Lord is my only directory; His dwelling in me and with me, my only power. " Have not I commanded thee? Lo, I am with thee."

But, it may be the reader feels disposed to inquire, " Is it really true that the word of God contains ample guidance for all the details of life? Does it tell me, for instance, where I am to go on Lord's day; and what I am to do from Monday morning till Saturday night? Does it direct me in my personal path; in my domestic relationships; in my commercial position; in my religious associations and opinions? "

Most assuredly. The word of God furnishes you thoroughly to all good works, and any work for which it does not furnish you is not good but bad. Hence, if you cannot find authority for where you go on Lord's day—no matter where it is—you must, at once, give up going. And if you cannot find authority for what you do on Monday, you must, at once, cease to do it. "To obey is better than sacrifice; and to hearken, than the fat of rams." Let us honestly face scripture. Let us bow down to its holy authority in all things. Let us humbly and reverently yield ourselves to its heavenly guidance. Let us give up every habit, every practice, every association, be it what it may, or be it sanctioned by whom it may, for which we have not the direct authority of God's word, and in which we cannot enjoy the sense of His presence—the life of His appreciating countenance.

This is a point of the very gravest moment. Indeed it would be impossible for human language to set forth with due force or in adequate terms, the vast importance of absolute and complete submission to the authority of scripture in all things—yes, we would say, and with emphasis—all things.

One of our greatest practical difficulties, in dealing with souls, arises from the fact that they do not seem to have any idea of submitting in all things to scripture. They will not face the word of God, or consent to be taught exclusively from its sacred pages. Creeds and confessions; religious formularies; the commandments, the doctrines, and the traditions of men—these things will be heard and yielded to. Our own will, our own judgment, our own views of things will be allowed to bear sway. Expediency, position, reputation, personal influence; usefulness; the opinion of friends; the thoughts and example of good and great men; the fear of grieving or giving offense to those whom we love and esteem, and with whom we may have been long associated in our religious life and service; the dread of being thought presumptuous; intense shrinking from the appearance of judging or condemning many at whose feet we would willingly sit—all these things operate and exert a most pernicious influence upon the soul, and hinder full surrender of ourselves to the paramount authority of God's word.

May the Lord graciously stir up our hearts in reference to this weighty subject! May He lead us, by His Holy Spirit, to see the true place and the real value and power of His word! May that word be set up in our souls as the one all-sufficient rule, so that everything—no matter what—may be unhesitatingly and utterly rejected that is not based upon its authority. Then we may expect to make progress. Then shall our path be as the path of the just, like a shining light that shineth more and more unto the perfect day. May we never rest satisfied until, in reference to all our habits, all our ways, all our associations, our religious position and service, all we do and all we do not do; where we go and where we do, not go, we can truly say we have the sanction of God's word and the light of His presence. Here, and here alone, lies the deep and precious secret Of AUTHORITY AND POWER.

Obedience and Dependence

In our December issue we ventured to call the attention of our readers to the weighty fact, that our God has, in His infinite mercy, provided for His people in this dark and evil world both authority and power—the authority of His word and the power of His Spirit—for the path which they are called to tread, and the work they are called to do. We have ample guidance in the word, and we have the power of God to count upon for all the difficulties. and demands of the scene through which we have to pass home to our eternal rest above. We have authority and power for all.

But we must remember, that if God has furnished us with authority, we must be obedient. And if He has provided the power, we must be dependent. Of what use is authority if we do not obey it? I may give my servant the plainest and fullest directions as to where he is to go, and what he is to do, and what he is to say; but if, instead of acting simply upon my directions, he begins to reason, and think, and draw con-elusions, to use his own judgment, and act according to his own will, of what use are my directions? None whatever, except it be to show how entirely he has departed from them. Clearly, the business of a servant is to obey, not to reason—to act according to his master's directions, not according to his own will or judgment. If he only does exactly what his master tells him, he is not responsible for the consequences.

The one grand business of a servant is to obey. This is the moral perfection of a servant. Alas! how rare! There has been but one absolutely obedient and perfectly dependent servant, in the entire history of this world—the man Christ Jesus. His meat and His drink were to obey. He found His joy in obedience. " Sacrifice and offering thou didst not desire; mine ears hast thou opened: burnt-offering and sin-offering hast thou not required. Then said I, Lo, I come: in the volume of the book it is written of me, I delight to do thy will, Ο my God: yea, thy law is within my heart.5' Psalm 40

Our blessed Lord Jesus found in the will of God His only motive for action. There was nothing in Him that needed to be restrained by the authority of God. His will was perfect, and His every movement was of necessity—the very necessity of His perfect nature—in the current of the divine will. "Thy law is within my heart;" "I delight to do thy will;" "I came down from heaven, not to do mine own will, but the will of him that sent me."

Now, what could Satan do with such a Man as this? Absolutely nothing. He tried to withdraw Him from the path of obedience and the place of dependence; but in vain. "If thou be the Son of God, command these stones to be made bread." Surely God would give His Son bread. No doubt; but the perfect Man refuses to make bread for Himself. He had no command, no authority, and therefore no motive for action. "It is written, Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of the Lord." So throughout the entire temptation., Nothing could withdraw the blessed One from the path of simple obedience. " It is written," was His one unvarying answer. He would not, could not, act without a motive, and His only motive was found in the will of God. " I delight to do thy will, Ο my God; yea, thy law is within my heart."

Such was the obedience of Jesus Christ—an obedience perfect, from first to last. And not only was He perfectly obedient, but perfectly dependent. Though God over all, blessed forever, yet, having taken His place as a man in this world, He lived a life of perfect dependence on God. He could say, "I clothe the heavens with blatekness, and I make sackcloth their covering. The Lord God hath given me the tongue of the learned, that I should know how to speak a word in season to him that is weary: he wakeneth morning by morning, he wakeneth mine ear to hear as the learned. The Lord God hath opened mine ear, and I was not rebellious, neither turned away back. I gave my back to the smiters, and my cheeks to them that plucked off the hair: I hid not my face from shame and spitting. For the Lord God will help me; therefore shall I not be confounded: therefore have I set my face like a flint, and I know that I shall not be ashamed." (Isa. 1) And again, " Preserve me, Ο God, for in thee do I put my trust." And again, " I was cast upon thee from the womb." He was wholly and continually cast upon God, from the manger of Bethlehem to the cross of Calvary; and when He had finished all, He surrendered His spirit into the Father's hand, and His flesh rested in hope. His obedience and dependence were divinely perfect throughout.

But we must now ask the reader to turn with us, for a few moments, to two examples of the very opposite of all this—two cases in the which, through lack of obedience and dependence, the most disastrous results followed.

Let us, in the first place, turn to the thirteenth chapter of the First Book of Kings. Doubtless, the case is familiar to us: but let us look at it in connection with our present theme.

" And, behold, there came a man of God out of Judah, by the word of the Lord, unto Bethel: and Jeroboam stood by the altar to burn incense. And he cried against the altar in the word of the Lord." Thus far all was right. He spoke by the word of God, and the power of God accompanied the testimony, and the spirit of the king was humbled and subdued for the moment.

But more than this. The man of God was enabled to refuse the king's invitation to come home with him and refresh himself, and receive a reward. " And the man of God said unto the king, If thou wilt give me half thine house, I will not go in with thee, neither will I eat bread nor drink water in this place. For so it was charged vie by the word of the Lord, saying, Eat no bread, nor drink water, nor turn again by the same way that thou earnest."

All this was lovely—perfectly delightful to dwell upon. The feet of the man of God stand firm in the bright and blessed path of obedience, and all is victory. The offers of the king are flung aside without a moment's hesitation. Half the royal house cannot tempt him off the narrow, holy, happy path of obedience. He rejects every overture, and turns to pursue the straight path opened before him by the word of the Lord. There is no reasoning, no questioning, no hesitation. The word of the Lord settles everything. He has but to obey, regardless of consequences. And so far he does, and all is well.

But mark the sequel. "Now there dwelt an old prophet in Bethel"—reader, beware of old prophets!—And this old prophet followed the man of God, and said unto him, " Come home with me, and eat bread." This was the devil in a new shape. What the word of a king had failed to do, the word' of a prophet might accomplish. It was a wile of Satan, for which the man of God was evidently unprepared. The garb of a prophet deceived him, and threw him completely off his guard: we can at once perceive his altered tone. When replying to the king lie speaks with vividness, force, and bold decision—"If thou wilt give me half thine house, I will not go in with thee." And then he adds, with equal force, his reason for refusing: " For so was it charged me by the word of the Lord."

But, in his reply to the prophet, there is manifest decline in the way of energy, boldness, and decision. He says, "I may not return with thee nor go in with thee." And in assigning the reason, instead of the forcible word " charged, "'we have the feeble word, " It was said to me."

In short, the whole tone is lower. The word of God was losing its true place and power in his soul. No change had passed over that word. "Forever, Ο Lord, thy word is settled in heaven;" and had that word been hidden in the heart of the man of God, had it been dwelling richly in his soul, his answer to the prophet would have been as distinct and decided as his answer to the king. " By the words of thy lips, I have kept me from the paths of the destroyer." The spirit of obedience is the great moral safeguard against every scheme and every snare of the enemy. The enemy may shift his ground; he may change his tactics, he may vary his agency; but obedience to the plain and simple word of God preserves the soul from all his wicked schemes and crafty devices. The devil can do nothing with a man who is absolutely ruled by the word of God, and refuses to move the breadth of a hair without divine authority.

But note how the enemy urges his point with the man of God. " He said unto him, I am a prophet also as thou art: and an angel spake unto me by the word of the Lord, saying, Bring him back with thee into thine house."

Now, what should the man of God have said to this? If the word of his Lord had been abiding in him, he would at once have said, "If ten thousand prophets, and ten thousand angels, were to say, Bring him back, I should regard them all as liars and emissaries of the devil, sent forth to allure me from the holy, happy, path of obedience." This would have been a sublime reply. It would have the same heavenly ring about it as is exhibited in these glowing words of the apostle: "Though we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other gospel unto you than that which we have preached, let him be anathema."

But, alas! alas! the man of God stepped off the path of obedience; and the very man whom Satan had used to draw him off, became the mouthpiece of Jehovah to announce in his ears the terrible consequence. He lied when Satan used him. He spoke truth when God used him. The erring man of God was slain by a lion, because he disobeyed the word of the Lord. Yes; he stepped off the narrow path of obedience into the wide field of his own will, and there he was slain.

Reader, let us beware of old prophets, and angels of light! Let us, in the true spirit of obedience, keep close, very close, to the word of our God. We shall find the path of obedience both safe and pleasant, holy and happy.

And now, for a moment, ere we close, let us glance at the ninth chapter of Joshua, which records for our admonition the manner in which even Joshua himself was ensnared through lack of simple dependence upon God. We do not quote the passage, or enter into any detail. The reader can turn to the chapter, and ponder its contents.

Why was Israel beguiled by the craft of the Gibeonites? Because they leaned to their own understanding, and judged by the sight of their eyes, instead of waiting upon God for guidance and counsel. He knew all about the Gibeonites. He was not deceived by their tattered rags and moldy bread; and neither would they, had they only looked to Him.

But here they failed. They did not wait on God. Ηθ would have guided them. He would have told them who these crafty strangers were. He would have made all clear for them, had they simply waited on Him in the sense of their own ignorance and feebleness. But no; they would think for themselves, and judge for themselves, and reason from what they saw, and draw their own conclusions. All these things they would do; and hence the tattered garments of the Gibeonites accomplished what the frowning bulwarks of Jericho had failed to do.

Now, we may be quite sure that Israel had no thought of making a league with any of the Canaanites. Nay, they were in terrible indignation when they discovered that they had done so. But they did it, and had to abide by it. It is easier to make a mistake than to rectify it, and so the Gibeonites remained as a striking memorial of the evil of not waiting on God for counsel and guidance.

May the Holy Spirit teach us, from all that has passed before us, the solemn importance of "obedience and dependence."

Have Faith in God

How prone we are, in moments of pressure and difficulty, to turn the eye to some creature resource! Our hearts are full of creature confidence, human hopes, and earthly expectations. We know comparatively little of the deep blessedness of looking simply to God. We are ready to look anywhere and everywhere rather than unto Him. We run to any broken cistern, and lean on any broken reed, although we have an exhaust-less Fountain and the Rock of ages ever near.

And yet we have proved, times without number, that " creature streams are dry." Man is sure to disappoint us when we look to him. " Cease ye from man whose breath is in his nostrils; for wherein is he to be accounted of?" And again, "Cursed is the man that trusteth in man, and maketh flesh his arm, and whose heart departeth from the Lord. For he shall be like the heath in the desert, and shall not see when good cometh; but shall inhabit the parched places in the wilderness, in a salt land, and not inhabited." Isa. 17

Such is the sad result of leaning upon the creature—barrenness, desolation, disappointment. Like the heath in the desert. No refreshing showers—no dew from heaven—no good—nothing but drought and sterility. How can it be otherwise, when the heart is turned away from the Lord, the only source of blessing? It lies not within the range of the creature to satisfy the heart. God alone can do this. He can meet our every need, and satisfy our every desire. He never fails a trusting heart.

But He must be trusted, in reality. " What doth it profit, my brethren, though a man say" he trusts God, if he does not really do so? A sham faith will not do. It will not do to trust in word, neither in tongue. It must be in deed and in truth. Of what use is a faith with one eye on the Creator, and another on the creature? Can God and the creature occupy the same platform? Impossible. It must be God or—what? The creature, and the curse that ever follows creature confidence.

Mark the contrast. " Blessed is the man that trusteth in the Lord, and whose hope the Lord is. For he shall be as a tree planted by the waters, and that spreadeth out her roots by the river, and shall not see when heat cometh, but her leaf shall be green; and shall not be careful in the year of drought, neither shall cease from yielding fruit."

How blessed! How bright! How beautiful! Who would not put his trust in such a God? How delightful to find oneself wholly and absolutely cast upon Him! To be shut up to Him. To have Him filling the entire range of the soul's vision. To find all our springs in Him. To be able to say, "My soul, wait thou only upon God; for my expectation is from him. He only is my rock and my salvation; he is my defense; I shall not be moved.'

Note the little word, " only." It is very searching. It will not do to say we are trusting in God, while the eye is all the while askance upon the creature. It is much to be feared that we frequently talk about looking to the Lord, while, in reality, we are expecting our fellow-man to help us. " The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked; who can know it? I the Lord search the heart, I try the reins, even to give every man according to his ways, and according to the fruit of his doings.'

How needful to have the heart's deepest motive springs judged in the presence of God! We are so apt to deceive ourselves by the use of certain phrases which, so far as we are concerned, have no force, no value, no truth, whatever. The language of faith is on our lips, but the heart is full of creature confidence. We talk to men about our faith in God, in order that they may help us out of our difficulties.

Let us be honest. Let us walk in the clear light of God's presence, where everything is seen as it really is. Let us not rob God of His glory, and our own souls of abundant blessing, by an empty profession of dependence upon Him, while the heart is secretly going out after some creature stream. Let us not miss the deep joy, peace, and blessing, the strength, stability, and victory, that faith ever finds in the living God, in the living Christ of God, and in the living word of God. Oh! let us " have faith in God."

Deliverance

IT is a fact obvious, of course, to all, that when a Christian dies and goes to heaven he is completely delivered from the power of sin. It is manifestly impossible that sin can have any power or authority over a dead man then it is not so readily seen or admitted that the believer, even now, is as thoroughly delivered from the power of sin as though he were dead and gone to heaven. Sin has no more dominion over a Christian than over a man who is actually dead and buried.

We speak of the power of sin; not of its presence. Let the reader carefully note this. There is as regards the question of sin this material difference between a Christian here and hereafter. Here lie is delivered only from the power of sin; hereafter, he will be freed from its presence. In his present condition sin dwells in him; but it is not to reign. By-and-by, it will not even dwell. The reign of sin is over and gone. The reign of grace has begun. " Sin shall not have dominion over you; for ye are not under law, but under grace."

And, be it carefully observed, the apostle is not speaking, in Rom. 6, of the forgiveness of sins. This he treats in chapter iii. Blessed be God, our sins are all forgiven—blotted out—eternally canceled. But, in chapter vi., the theme is not forgiveness of sins, but complete deliverance from site as a ruling power or principle.

How do we obtain this immense boon? By death. We have died to sin—died in the death of Christ. Is this true of every believer? Yes, of every believer beneath the canopy of heaven. Is it not a matter of attainment? By no means. It belongs to every child of God, every true believer. It is the common standing of all. Blessed, holy standing! All praise to Him who has earned it for us, and brought us into it. We live under the glorious reign of grace—" grace which reigns through righteousness, unto eternal life, by Jesus Christ our Lord."

This enfranchising truth is little understood by the Lord's people. Very few, comparatively, get beyond the forgiveness of sins, if they have even got so far. They do not see their full deliverance from the power of sin. They feel its pressure, and arguing from their painful feeling instead of reckoning themselves to Le wind God tells them they are, they are plunged in doubt and fear as to their conversion. They are occupied with their own inward self-consciousness instead of with Christ. They are looking at their State in order to get peace and comfort, and hence they are, and must be, miserable. We shall never get peace if we seek it in our spiritual state or condition. The way to get peace is to believe that we died with Christ, were buried with Him, were raised with Him, are justified in Him, accepted in Him. In short that, " As lie is so are we in this world." 1 John 4:17.

This is the solid basis of peace. And not only so, but it is the only divine secret of a holy life. We are dead to sin. We are not called to make ourselves dead. We are so in Christ. A monk, an ascetic, or an ardent striver after sinless perfection, may 'try to put sin to death by various bodily exercises. What is the inevitable result? Misery. Yes, misery in proportion to the earnestness. How different is Christianity! We start with the blessed knowledge find we are dead to sin; and in the blessed faith of this, we '' mortify" not the body, but its " deeds."

May the reader enter, by faith, into the power of this " deliverance!"

A Word to Our Readers: The Authority of the Scriptures

Dearly beloved in the Lord, Ere closing our volume for the year 1875, we desire to offer you a few earnest words on a subject which we deem to be of commanding interest and importance; it is this: The divine sufficiency and supreme authority of holy scripture; and the urgent need of submitting ourselves absolutely to its guidance in all things.

And, in thus stating our thesis, we would not have you to suppose, for a moment, that we undervalue human writings, in their proper place. Nothing is further from our thoughts. Indeed it would ill become us, as the conductors of a monthly magazine, to speak disparagingly of a branch of christian ministry so largely used of God in all ages of His church's history, and specially in this our own day.

No, beloved, we prize human writings more than we can attempt to say. We receive them as streams from the fountain head. And, further, we would add that we have rarely met anyone who affected to despise christian writings, on the pica of reading nothing but the Bible, that was not crude, shallow, and contracted. We might just as well say that we would not listen to a brother speaking to us in the assembly, as refuse to read what God had given him to write, provided we had time to do so. How often has a book or tract been made a rich blessing to the soul, either in bringing one to Christ, or building up or helping on in Him! How often may we have read some passage of scripture and seen nothing in it until the Lord had used some paragraph in a human writing to unlock its treasures to our hearts I We are, none of us, self-sufficient. We are dependent one on another. We grow by that which every joint supplieth. We need all the "helps" which God has set in the body for our common profit and blessing.

But having said thus much to guard against misunderstanding, and to put human writings in their right place, we return to our special object in this brief address.

There is but one supreme and paramount authority, and that is the word of God. All human writings are interesting as references, valuable as aids, but they are worthless, yea mischievous as authority. Scripture is all-sufficient. We want absolutely nothing, in the way of guidance and authority, beyond what we possess in the sacred canon of scripture. No doubt, it is only by the Holy Ghost we can understand, appreciate, or be guided by scripture; and, moreover, God may use a human voice or a human pen to help us; but scripture is divinely sufficient. It can make a child wise unto salvation; and it can make a man perfect unto all good works. See 2 Tim. 3:15—17.

Now, having such a guide, such an authority, what becomes us as Christians—as children of God and servants of Christ? Why, clearly, to submit ourselves absolutely and unreservedly to its teaching, in all things, We are bound, by every argument and every motive which can possibly sway the heart, to test everything in which we are engaged, or with which we stand associated, by the holy standard of the word of God; and, if we find aught, no matter what, which will not stand that test, to abandon it at once and forever.

And it is precisely here that we feel there is such serious failure in the professing church. As a rule, we do not find the conscience under the immediate action and government of the word. Human opinions bear sway. Human creeds and confessions of faith govern the heart and form the religious character. Human traditions and habits of thought are allowed a formative influence over the soul. If it be merely a question of personal salvation, profit, or blessing, scripture will be listened to. People are glad and thankful to her how they can he saved and blessed. Everything that bears upon the individual condition and destiny will meet a welcome.

But the moment it becomes a question of Christ's authority over us, in spirit, soul, and body; when the word of God is brought to bear upon our entire practical career, upon our personal habits, our domestic arrangements, our commercial pursuits, our religious associations, our ecclesiastical position, then, alas! it becomes apparent how completely the authority of holy scripture is virtually thrown overboard. In point of fact, the enemy seems to succeed as completely in robbing professing Christians of the real value, power, and authority of the word of God, as when, during that long and dreary period of the middle ages, it was wrapped in the shroud of a dead language, and buried in the dark cloisters of Rome. It is perfectly appalling, when one comes in contact with the actual condition of things amongst professing Christians, to observe the ignorance of scripture and the carelessness about it. Nor can any thoughtful person doubt hat that the latter is the producing cause of the former. "If any man wilt do his will, he shall know of the doctrine." But if the word of God be neglected and practically ignored, as an authority, need we marvel when we find people ignorant of its precious contents?

We have been much struck, of late, in our intercourse with Christian professors, in noticing the little moral weight which scripture seems to possess. You will rarely meet with anyone who is prepared to start with this one grand point, that the voice of the Holy Ghost in scripture is absolutely conclusive, that it admits of no appeal, that it closes all discussion. We speak not now of man's interpretation of scripture—of anything in winch it can be said, " That is your opinion." We speak only of the written word of God which we possess, and to which we are individually responsible to submit ourselves, in all things. God has put His word into our hands, and He has put His Spirit into our hearts, and by that Spirit we can understand the word; and we are solemnly bound to be guided and governed by that word, in all the details of our practical career.

It is this we feel imperatively called upon to press home upon the hearts and consciences of our readers, in tins our closing address. We have been earnestly waiting upon the Lord for a message, as we feel bound to do at all times. Indeed our constant cry is, " Lord, when the magazine ceases to be Thy messenger, let it cease to be altogether. Let it never outlive its freshness and usefulness." In looking then to Him for the very theme, we got this answer, " Press upon your readers, the sufficiency and authority of holy scripture; and the necessity of absolute subjection to it in all things." This we have sought to do, according to our poor ability; and now we leave it with our readers to consider as before the Lord, their personal responsibility in this weighty matter. We would entreat them, as they love the Lord Jesus Christ, to examine, in the light of scripture, their entire position and path; and, by the grace of God, and for His glory, to abandon, at once and forever, all that is not in perfect accordance with that holy standard. Thus shall their path be as the shining light that shineth more and more unto the perfect day. Oh! may the true language of all our hearts be, " Speak, Lord; for thy servant heareth." " Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?" God grant it, for Christ's sake.

Questions: and How to Meet Them

July, 1876

My beloved Friend,

I have been very much interested of late in looking at the excellent way in which John the Baptist met the various questions which came before him; for, alas! there were questions in his day, as there are in ours.

What I specially refer to now is presented to us in chapters 1 and 3 of John's Gospel.

The first question which this dear and honored servant of Christ was called to answer had respect to himself, and of this he makes very short work indeed. "This is the record of John, when the Jews sent priests and Levites from Jerusalem to ask him, Who art thou?"

It is ever unwelcome to any right-minded person to be asked to speak about himself. So, I doubt not, John found it. He readily told them that he was not the Messiah, that he was not Elias; yea, that he was not even the prophet. But they would have a positive answer. " They said unto him, Who art thou? that we may give an answer to them that sent us. What sayest thou of thyself?" Little indeed had he to say of himself. "I" had a very small place in John's thoughts. "A voice." Was this all? Yes; this was all. The Spirit in the prophet had spoken; John quotes the words, and there he leaves it. Blessed servant! Honored witness! Would we had more of thy excellent spirit!—more of thy method of answering questions!

But these Pharisees were not satisfied. John's self-biding spirit was entirely beyond them. "They asked him, and said unto him, Why baptizest thou then, if thou be not the Christ, nor Elias, neither the prophet?"

Here again the Baptist makes short work. " John answered them, saying, I baptize with water; but there standeth one among you whom ye know not. He it is who, coming after me, is preferred before me, whose shoe's latchet I am not worthy to unloose."

Thus, as to himself, he was merely a voice. And, as to his work, he baptized with water, and he was only too glad to retire behind that blessed One whose shoe's latchet he felt himself utterly unworthy to unloose.

This is uncommonly fine. I feel assured, my beloved friend, that the lovely spirit displayed by this most illustrious servant of Christ is what you earnestly covet for yourself. And I think I am one with you herein. I do long to know more and more of this self-hiding—this losing sight of self and its doings—this retiring spirit. Truly it is much needed in this day of egotistical boast and pretension.

But turn with me for a moment to John 3 Here we have another kind of question. It is not now about himself or his work, but about purifying. " There arose a question among some of John's disciples and the Jews about purifying. And they came to John, and said unto him, Rabbi, he that was with thee beyond Jordan, to whom thou bearest witness, behold, the same baptizeth, and all come to him."

Now this was a mistake, for " Jesus himself baptized not, but his disciples." But this is not the point here. What strikes me is John's mode of settling all questions, right or wrong. He finds a perfect solution for all in the presence of his Lord. " John answered and said, A man can receive nothing except it be given him from heaven."

How true! How simple! How perfectly obvious! What a complete settlement of every question! If a man has anything at all, whence did it, whence could it, come? Surely only from heaven. What a perfect cure for strife, envy, jealousy, and emulation! "Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights." What a tale this tells of earth and of man! What a record it bears to heaven and to God! Not one atom of good on earth but what comes from heaven. Not an atom of good in man but what comes from God. Why, then, should any one boast, or be jealous, or envious? If all goodness is from above, let there be an end of all strife, and let all hearts go up in praise to " the Father of lights."

Thus it was the Baptist met the questions of his day. He let all the questioners know that their questions had but little interest for him. And, more than that, he let them know where all his interests lay. This blessed servant found all his springs in the Lamb of God, in His precious work—in His glorious Person. The voice of the Bridegroom was enough for him, and, having heard that, his joy was full. The question of purifying might be interesting enough in its place, and no doubt, like all other questions, it had its right and its wrong side; but for John, the Bridegroom's voice was enough. In His presence he found a divine answer to every question—a divine solution of every difficulty. He looked up to heaven, and saw every good thing coming from thence. He looked into the Bridegroom's face, and saw every moral glory centered there. This was enough for him. Why trouble him with questions of any kind—questions about himself or his work, or about purifying? He lived far beyond the region of questions in the blessed presence of his Lord, and there he found all his heart could ever need.

Now, my much loved friend, it seems to me that you and I would do well to take a leaf out of John's book as regards all this. I need not remind you that in this our day there are questions agitating men's minds. Yes, and some of us are called to account for not expressing ourselves more decidedly on some at least of these questions. But, for my part, I believe the devil is doing his utmost to alienate our hearts from Christ and from one another by questions. We ought not to be ignorant of his devices. He does not come openly, and say, " I am the devil, and I want to divide and scatter you by questions." Yet this is precisely what he is seeking to do.

Now, it matters not whether the question be right or wrong in itself; the devil can make use of a right question just as effectively as of a wrong one, provided he can succeed in raising that question into undue prominence, and causing it to come between our souls and Christ, and between us and our brethren. I can understand a difference in judgment, on various minor questions. Christians have differed about such for many long centuries, and they will continue to differ until the end of time. It is human weakness. But when any question is allowed to assume undue prominence, it ceases to be mere human weakness, and becomes a wile of Satan. I may have a very decided judgment on any given point, and so may you. But what I long for now is a thorough sinking of all questions, and a rejoicing together in hearing the Bridegroom's voice, and going on together in the light of His blessed countenance. This will confound the enemy. It will effectually deliver us from prejudice and partiality, from cliques and coteries. We shall then measure one another, not by our views of any particular question, but by our appreciation of the Person of Christ, and our devotion to His cause.

In a word, my beloved and valued friend, what I long for is that you and I, and all our dear brethren throughout the whole world, may be characterized by a deep-toned, thorough, devotion to the name, and truth, and cause of Christ. I long to cultivate broad sympathies, that can take in every true lover of Christ, even though we see not eye to eye on all minor questions. At best "we know but in part and we can never expect people to agree with us about questions. But if Christ be our one absorbing object, all other things will assume their right place, their relative value, their proper proportions. " Let us, therefore, as many as be perfect (as many as have Christ for their one object), be thus minded: and if in anything ye be otherwise (or differently, ἑτερως) minded, God shall reveal even this unto you. Nevertheless, whereto we have already attained, let us walk by the same rule (Christ), and mind the same thing' (Christ). The moment anything else but Christ is introduced as a rule to walk by, it is simply the work of the devil. Of this I am as sure as that I hold this pen in my hand.

May the Lord keep us all close to Himself, walking together, not in sectarianism, but in true brotherly love, seeking the blessing and prosperity of all who belong to Christ, and promoting in every possible way His blessed cause, until He come!

Ever most affectionately yours,

C. Η. M.

The Dew of Hermon

The expression at the head of this paper has, it seems, long proved " a geographical puzzle" to some. But to one who has the mind of Christ it is no puzzle, but a most striking and beautiful figure. Hermon is the very loftiest peak in all the land of Palestine, and from its snowy cap, when all the surrounding country is parched, the refreshing dew descends upon the mountains of Zion; and this is one of the figures used by the Holy Ghost to illustrate the beauty and pleasantness of brethren dwelling together in unity. Let us quote the entire psalm.

" Behold how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity! It is like the precious ointment upon the head, that ran down upon the beard, even Aaron's beard, that went down to the skirts of his garments. As the dew of Hermon that descended upon the mountains of Zion; for there the Lord commanded the blessing, even life for evermore."

Here we have two lovely illustrations of unity among brethren. It is like ointment descending from the head of the high priest to the skirts of his garment; and it is like the dew descending, in refreshing power, from Hermon's snowy top.

How truly delightful! And yet they are but figures used to set forth the divine idea of unity among brethren. But how is the unity to be promoted? By living sufficiently near to our great priestly Head to catch the fragrant ointment as it descends from Him—to be living so near the Man in the glory as that the refreshing dew of His grace may drop upon our souls, thus rendering us fragrant and fruitful to His praise.

This is the way to dwell in unity with our brethren. It is one thing to talk about unity, and another thing altogether to dwell in it. We may profess to hold " the unity of the body," and " the unity of the Spirit"—most precious and glorious truths surely—and all the while be really full of selfish strife, party spirit, and sectarian feeling, all of which are entirely destructive of practical unity. If brethren are to dwell together in unity, they must be receiving the ointment from the Head, the refreshing showers from the true Hermon. They must live in the very presence of Christ, so that all their points and angles may be molded off, all their selfishness judged and subdued, all their own peculiar notions set aside, all their cues and crotchets flung to the winds. Thus there will be largeness of heart, breadth of mind, and depth of sympathy. Thus we shall learn to bear and forbear. It will not then be loving those who think with us and feel with us as to some pet theory or other. It will be loving and embracing " all who love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity."

The blessed Head loves all His members, and if we are drinking into His Spirit, if we are learning of Him, we shall love all likewise. No doubt, those who keep His commandments enjoy His special love—the love of complacency; and so we cannot but specially love those in whom we trace most of His blessed Spirit. But this is a totally different thing from loving people because they adopt our line of truth, or our peculiar views. It is Christ, and not self; and this is what we want, if we are to " dwell together in unity.''

Look at that charming picture presented in Phil. 2 There truly we see, first of all, the divine Head Himself, and from Him the ointment descending to the skirts of His garments. Where did Paul get the grace to enable him to be ready to be poured out as a drink-offering upon the sacrifice of his brethren? What was it that made Timothy care for other people? What led Epaphroditus to put his life in his hand to supply his brethren's lack? What is the one grand answer to all these questions? Simply this: these beloved servants of Christ lived so in their Master's presence, and drank so deeply into His Spirit, they dwelt so near the Man in the glory, that the fragrant ointment, and the refreshing dew, fell upon their souls abundantly, and made them channels of blessing to others.

This, beloved christian reader, be assured of it, is the grand secret of getting on together. If brethren are to dwell together in unity, they must have the "ointment" and the "dew" dropping continually upon them. They must live close to Christ, and be occupied with Him, so that they may show forth His virtues, and reflect His blessed image.

And then, what joy to be enabled, in any little measure, to refresh the heart of God! He delights to see His children walking in love. It is He who says, " Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity!" Surely this ought to stir our hearts to seek in every possible way to promote this lovely unity. It should lead us to sink self and all its belongings, to surrender everything that might tend in any measure to alienate our hearts from Christ, or from one another. The Holy Ghost exhorts us to " endeavor to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace." Let us remember this. It is the unity of the Spirit, not the unity of the body, we are to keep in the uniting bond of peace. This will cost us something. The word " endeavoring" shows that it cannot be done without sacrifice. But the One who so graciously exhorts us to the service will ever supply the needed grace. The ointment and the dew will flow down from Him in refreshing power, knitting our hearts together in holy love, and enabling us to deny ourselves, and surrender everything which might tend to hinder that true unity which we are imperatively called upon to maintain.

The Seal and the Earnest

" Grieve not the holy Spirit of God, whereby ye are sealed unto the day of redemption." Eph. 4:30.

"In whom also, after that ye believed, ye were sealed with that holy Spirit of promise, which is the earnest of our inheritance, until the redemption of the par-chased possession." Eph. 1:13, 14.

In these verses we have the Spirit of God presented to us in two distinct ways, namely, first, as the seal which God puts upon all those who believe in the Lord Jesus Christ; and, secondly, as the earnest of the inheritance which the sealed heirs shall possess ere long.

All true believers are sealed with the Holy Ghost. We must, of course, distinguish between being quickened and sealed. The Holy Spirit quickens dead souls; He seals living believers; that is, He is Himself the seal. God does not seal sinners dead in trespasses and sins; He quickens them, leads them to repentance; and when, through grace, they believe on the name of the Lord Jesus Christ—crucified, risen, and glorified at the right hand of the Majesty in the heavens—then He seals them by giving the Holy Spirit to dwell in them. Thus He sets His blessed mark on them, until the day of redemption.

It is very important to be clear as to the difference between quickening and sealing. Many persons find difficulty here, but scripture is as plain as possible on the subject. Take, for example, the opening paragraph of Acts 19: "It came to pass, that while Apollos was at Corinth, Paul, having passed through the upper coasts, came to Ephesus; and finding certain disciples, lie said unto them, Have ye received the Holy Ghost since ye believed? And they said unto him, We have not so much as heard whether there be any Holy Ghost"—or rather, "We did not even hear if the Holy Spirit was come." "And he said unto them, Unto what, then, were ye baptized? And they said, Unto John's baptism. Then said Paul, John verily baptized with the baptism of repentance, saying unto the people that they should believe on him who should come after, that is, on Christ Jesus. When they heard this, they were baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus. And when Paul had laid his hands upon them, the Holy Ghost came on them; and they spake with tongues, and prophesied."

Here, then, we have, with great clearness and force, the distinction between quickening and sealing. Hero were twelve men, who evidently were disciples, and who had received a measure of truth, but not the full truth of accomplished redemption, of a risen and glorified Savior, and of the Holy Ghost as the witness of these grand and glorious facts.

We are not to suppose that these disciples had never heard of the existence of the Holy Ghost. In this our Authorized Version is manifestly defective. What they had not heard was whether the Holy Ghost had come down as the witness and solid proof of the exaltation and glory of the Lord Jesus Christ. John the Baptist, whose disciples they were, knew and spoke of the Holy Spirit, so that they must have known of that divine Person; but he did not, could not, know, and therefore could not speak of Him as the seal put upon all true believers.

And yet they were true disciples, really quickened souls, but not sealed. They were practically in the condition of Old Testament believers, or of the disciples during our Lord's life on earth. There was this difference, that the Holy Ghost had come on the day of Pentecost, and had been working for years, not only hi quickening, but in sealing. Thousands of Jews at Jerusalem, many of the Samaritans, the household of Cornelius, had all received the Holy Ghost; and yet the twelve disciples at Ephesus had not even heard of His descent.

Hence, then, it is plain that persons may be quickened, but not sealed. What was true of those Ephesians, years after the day of Pentecost, may be equally true of souls now. How many of the Lord's beloved people, throughout the wide field of christian profession, are in this condition! They do not know what it is to be linked by the indwelling Spirit to a risen and glorified Head in heaven. They are virtually under the law; they do not know the blessedness of settled peace with God; they enjoy not the liberty wherewith Christ makes His people free; they are in bondage, filled with doubts and fears. Many go on in this sad condition all their days, and perhaps on their death• bed, for the first time, they get a full view of a risen and glorified Christ, and, believing on Him, are there and then sealed, and brought into the glorious liberty of the gospel of God. They have been robbed all their lifetime of their precious privilege. Through legality, bad teaching, or some other cause, they have been kept in ignorance of " the things which are freely given to us of God;" and thus they have been groping on in darkness and distance, instead of enjoying that blessed nearness to God which is the portion of all those who simply believe in the name of His Son Jesus Christ.

However, we shall not dwell farther just now on the important and interesting distinction between quickening and sealing—the former being the work of the Spirit, the latter His personal indwelling—but shall, ere closing this very brief article, call the serious attention of the christian reader to the weighty word of exhortation quoted above, " Grieve not the holy Spirit of God, whereby ye are sealed unto the day of redemption."

This word assumes that the Christian knows himself to be a sealed one. All christian exhortation is based on the fact of our being in the enjoyment of christian position and privilege. We could not grieve the Holy Spirit, if He were not in us; but when we know what it is to have such an One as the Holy Spirit of God dwelling in us, making our body His temple, what a powerful motive to holy living! How careful we should be not to grieve Him! How we should watch against every thought, word, and act that would be offensive to the divine Guest who has taken up His abode in us! All lightness and frivolity, all unhallowed conversation, all evil speaking, all unkindness, moroseness, and irritability, all selfish ways, all worldly-mindedness, must be judged according to the standard of the Holy One by whom we arc sealed unto the day of redemption. It is no longer a question of what is suitable or consistent for us, but for Him. This makes all the difference. Many a thing might be suitable for us which would be very grievous to Him. Our constant inquiry should be, " Will this thing grieve the Holy Spirit who dwells in me?" If so, let us, by the grace of God, judge and reject it with holy decision.

May the Lord enable us to bend our earnest attention to His most precious word of exhortation, that so His holy name may be more fully glorified in our daily life!

And, now, a very few words on the subject of " the Earnest." This is a most precious aspect of the Spirit's office and work. " He is the earnest of the inheritance until the redemption of the purchased possession." The inheritance is purchased; the price has been paid. But it is not yet redeemed; for this latter we wait; and while waiting, our God has, most graciously, given us the earnest of His Spirit, so that we are as sure of the inheritance as though we were already in possession of it. The earnest is apart of what we are to get. " Now he which stablisheth us with you is Christ"—most precious words!—" and hath anointed us in God; who hath also sealed us, and given the earnest of the Spirit in our hearts." 2 Cor. 1:21, 22.

We must carefully distinguish between purchase and redemption. Many confound them and thus suffer serious loss. Our Lord Christ has purchased the whole universe. He has paid the redemption price for the inheritance; but He has not yet laid His mighty hand, in redeeming power, thereupon. Redemption by price is one thing; redemption by power, quite another. In the year 1834, the British Legislature voted 20 millions of money to redeem the slaves in our Colonies. This was redemption by price. But then, notwithstanding the payment of this redemption price, some poor slaves might be found huddled together in a slave ship. What was needed in their case? Redemption by power in virtue of the price. British man of war might seize the slave ship and let go all the poor captives. This may, in some feeble manner, illustrate the difference between purchase and redemption.

In Rom. 8 we have a splendid passage which we must quote for the reader. " As many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God. For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear; but ye have received the spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father. The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God. And if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ; if so be that we suffer with him, that we may be also glorified together. For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us. For the earnest expectation of the creation waiteth for the manifestation of the sons of God. For the creation was made subject to vanity, not willingly, but by reason of him who subjected it in hope that the creation itself also shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the liberty of the glory of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now. And not only it, but ourselves also, which have the first-fruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting for the adoption, the redemption of our body"

As regards the body of the believer, as in respect to the inheritance, the redemption price has been paid, but it is not yet redeemed, " we groan within ourselves."

We sigh for the redemption. We wait for the moment of deliverance. " We look for the Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ: who shall change the body of our humiliation, that it may be fashioned like unto the body of his glory, according to the working whereby he is able even to subdue all things unto himself." Phil. 3:20, 21.

Glorious prospect! How precious for the weary suffering pilgrim who feels the burden of his poor crumbling tabernacle! The Lord is at hand. The voice of the archangel and the trump of God will soon be heard, and then mortality shall be swallowed up of life. Till then we are sealed with that blessed Spirit of God who is the earnest—not of His love which we possess, but—of the inheritance for which we wait.

Obedience: What Is It? and Are We Yielding It?

It is of the very last possible importance for the Christian to have a clear apprehension of the true character of christian obedience. It is, of course, perfectly evident that I must be a Christian before ever I can yield christian obedience. A child can understand this. I must be in a position in order to discharge the duties which belong to it. I must be in a relationship ere I can know, feel, or display the affections which flow out of it.

If we keep this simple principle in our minds, it will prevent our attaching a legal idea to the word obedience. There is not, and cannot be, a single trace of legality in the obedience to which we are called as Christians, seeing that, ere we can take a step in that most blessed path, we must have divine life. And how do we get this life? ''Not by works of righteousness," surely; not by legal efforts of any kind whatsoever, but by the free gift of God—all praise and thanks to His holy name! " The gift of God is eternal life, through Jesus Christ our Lord." And how is this life communicated? How are we quickened, or born again? By the word and Spirit of God, and in no other way. We are by nature " dead in trespasses and sins." There is not in any son or daughter of Adam a single pulsation of divine life. Take the very fairest specimen of mere nature—take the most refined, cultivated, moral, and amiable person in the very highest circle of social life; take the most religious and devout person in mere nature, and there is not so much as one spark of divine or spiritual life.

This, no doubt, is very humbling to the human heart, but it is the plain truth of holy scripture, which must be constantly maintained and faithfully set forth. We are by nature alienated from God, enemies in our minds by wicked works, and hence we have neither the will nor the power to obey. There must be a new life, a new nature, before a single step can be taken in the blessed pathway of obedience; and this new life is communicated to us by the free grace of God, through the operation of the Spirit, who quickens us by the word.

A passage or two of holy scripture will set this matter clearly before the mind of the reader. In John 3 we read, " Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God." Here we have the word presented under the figure of water, as we read in Eph. 5 of " the washing of water by the word." Again, in Jas. 1 we read, « Of his own will begat he us, by the word of truth." It is not possible to conceive anything more entirely independent of human effort than the new birth as here set forth. It is wholly of God, of His own will, and by His own power. What has a man to do with his natural birth? Surely nothing. What, then, can he have to do with his spiritual birth? It is of God exclusively, from first to last. All praise to Him that it is so!

Take one more uncommonly fine passage on this great subject. In 1 Pet. 1:23, we read, "Being born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, by the word of God, which liveth and abideth forever. For all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass. The grass withereth, and the flower thereof falleth away. But the word of the Lord endureth forever. And this is the word which by the gospel is preached unto you."

Nothing can be more precious than this. When the glad tidings of salvation fall with power upon the heart that is the birth moment. The word is the seed of divine life, deposited in the soul by the Holy Ghost. Thus we are born again. We are renewed in the very deepest springs of our moral being., We are introduced into the blessed relationship of sons, as we read in Gal. 4 " When the fullness of the time was come, God sent forth his Son"—marvelous grace!—" made of a woman, made under the law, to redeem them that were under the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons. And because ye are sons, God hath sent forth the Spirit of His Son into your hearts, crying, Abba, Father. Wherefore thou art no more a servant, but a son; and if a son, then an heir of God through Christ."

Here, then, we have the true ground of obedience clearly and fully set before us. It is eternal life possessed, and eternal relationship enjoyed. There can be no legality here. We are no more servants on legal ground, but sons, on the blessed and elevated ground of divine love.

But we must remember that we are called to obedience. "Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?" is the very first breathing of a new-born soul. It was the question which emanated from the broken and penitent heart of Saul of Tarsus, when smitten to the ground by the manifested glory of the Son of God. Up to that moment, he had lived in rebellion against that blessed One; but now he was called to yield himself, body, soul, and spirit, to a life of unqualified obedience. Was there aught of the legal element in this? Not a trace, from beginning to end. " The love of Christ," he says, "constraineth us; because we thus judge, that if one died for all, then were all dead. And that he died for all, that they which live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto him which died for them, and rose again." 2 Cor. 5

Here, beloved christian reader, lies the grand motive-spring of all christian obedience. Life is the ground; love the spring. "If ye love me, keep my commandments." And again, "He that hath my commandments, and keepeth them, he it is that loveth me; and he that loveth me shall be loved of my Father, and I will love him, and will manifest myself to him." How precious! Who can adequately set forth the blessedness of this manifestation of Christ to the obedient heart? Should we not earnestly long to know more of it? Can we expect it if we are living in the habitual neglect of His holy commandments? It is " he that hath my commandments, and keepeth them, he it is that loveth me." Have we His commandments? And are we keeping them? How utterly worthless is mere lip profession! It is like the son in the parable, who said, "I go, sir, and went not." It is empty, hollow, contemptible mockery. What father would care for loud profession of affection on the part of a son who cared not to carry out his wishes? Could such a son expect to enjoy much of his father's company or confidence? Surely not; indeed it is more than questionable if he could value either the one or the other. He might be ready enough to accept all that the father's hand could bestow to meet his personal wants; but there is a very wide difference indeed between receiving gifts from a father's hand, and enjoying fellowship with that father's heart.

It is this latter we should ever seek, and it is the precious fruit of loving obedience to our Father's words. "If a man love me, he will keep my words; and my Father will love him, and we will come unto him, and make our abode with him. He that loveth me not, keepeth not my sayings." Can aught, this side of heaven, be more precious than to have the Father and the Son coming to us, and making their mansion with us? Do we know what it means? Do we enjoy it? Is it common to all? By no means! It is known only to those who know, and have, and keep the words of Jesus. He speaks of "his commandments" and "his words." What is the difference? The former set forth our holy duty; the latter are the expression of His holy will. If I give my child a commandment, it is his duty to obey, and if he loves me, he will delight to obey. But supposing he has heard me saying, " I like so-and-so," and that he does that thing, without being directly commanded to do it, he gives me a much more touching proof of his love, and of his affectionate interest in all my wishes; and this, we may rest assured, is most grateful to a loving father's heart, and he will respond to this loving obedience by making the obedient child his companion, and the depositary of his thoughts.

But there is more than this. In John 15 we read, " If ye abide in me, and my words abide in you, ye shall ask what ye will, and it shall be done unto you. Herein is my Father glorified, that ye bear much fruit; so shall ye be my disciples. As the Father hath loved me, so have I loved you."—Amazing truth!—" Continue [or abide] ye in my love." How is this to be done? " If ye keep my commandments, ye shall continue [or abide] in my love; even as I have kept my Father's commandments, and abide in his love."

Here we learn the wondrous truth that we are called to the very same kind of obedience as that which our adorable Lord and Savior rendered to the Father, when He walked as a man on this earth. We are brought into full fellowship with Himself, both in the love wherewith we are loved, and the obedience which we are privileged to render. This is most blessedly confirmed by the Spirit in the First Epistle of Peter, where Christians are spoken of as "Elect according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through sanctification of the Spirit, unto obedience, and sprinkling of the blood of Jesus Christ." Chapter 1:2.

Let the reader carefully note this. We are elected of the Father, and sanctified by the Spirit to obey as Jesus obeyed. Such is the plain teaching of the passage. That blessed One found His meat and drink in doing the Father's will. His only motive for acting was the Father's will. " I delight to do thy will, Ο my God." There was no opposing element in Him, as there is, alas! in us. But, blessed be His name! He has linked us with Himself, and called us into blessed fellowship, both in the Father's love to Him, and in His obedience to the Father.

Marvelous privilege! Would that we appreciated it more! Oh, that we rendered a more loving obedience to all His precious commandments and sayings, that so He might manifest Himself to us, and make His abode with us. Blessed Lord, do make us more obedient in all things!

The Sympathy and Grace of Jesus

Read Matt. 14:1-21; Mark 6:30-44

In these two parallel scriptures we are presented with two distinct conditions of heart, which both find their answer in the sympathy and grace of Jesus. Let us look closely at them, and may the Holy Ghost enable us to gather up and bear away their precious teaching!

It was, no doubt, a moment of deep sorrow to John's disciples when their master had fallen by the sword of Herod -when the one on whom they had been accustomed to lean, and from whose lips they had been wont to drink instruction, was taken from them after such a fashion. This, we may well believe, was indeed a moment of gloom and desolation to the followers of John.

But there was One to whom they could come in their sorrow, and into whose ear they could pour their tale of grief—One of whom their master had spoken, to whom he had pointed, and of whom he had said, "He must increase, but I must decrease." To Him the bereaved disciples betook themselves, as we read, they "came, and took up the body, and buried it, and went and told Jesus." Matt. 14:12. This was the very best thing they could have done. There was not another heart on earth in which they could have found such a response as in the heart-the tender, loving heart—of Jesus. His sympathy was perfect. He knew all about their sorrow. He knew their loss and how they were feeling it. Wherefore, they acted wisely when they "went and told Jesus." His ear was ever open, and His heart ever at leisure to soothe and sympathize. He perfectly exemplified the precept afterward embodied in the words of the Holy Ghost, "Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with them that weep." Rom. 12:15.

And oh! who can tell the worth of genuine sympathy? Who can declare the value of having one who can really make your joys and sorrows his own? Thank God! we have such a One in the blessed Lord Jesus Christ; and although we cannot see Him with the bodily eye, yet can faith use Him, in all the preciousness and power of His perfect sympathy. We can, if only our faith is simple and childlike, go from the tomb where we have just deposited the remains of some fondly cherished object, to the feet of Jesus, and there pour out the anguish of a bereaved and desolate heart. We shall there meet no rude repulse, no heartless reproof for our folly and weakness in feeling so deeply. No; nor yet any clumsy effort to say something suitable, an awkward effort to put on some expression of condolence. Ah! no; Jesus knows how to sympathize with a heart that is crushed and bowed down beneath the heavy weight of sorrow. His is a perfect human heart. What a thought! What a privilege to have access, at all times, in all places, and under all circumstances, to a perfect, human heart! We may look in vain for this down here. Yes; look in vain, not merely in the world, but even in the Church. There may in many cases be a real desire to sympathize, but a total lack of capacity. I may find myself, in moments of sorrow, in company with one who knows nothing about my sorrow or the source thereof. How could he sympathize? And even though I should tell him, his heart might be so occupied with other things as to have no room and no leisure for me.

Not so with the perfect Man, Christ Jesus. He has both room and leisure for each and for all. No matter when, how, or with what you come, the heart of Jesus is always open. He will never repulse, never fail, never disappoint. If, therefore, we are in sorrow, what should we do? We should just do as the disciples of John did, go and tell Jesus. This, assuredly, is the right thing to do. Let us go straight from the tomb to the feet of Jesus. He will dry up our tears, soothe our sorrows, heal our wounds, and fill up our blanks.

We may now contemplate another condition of heart, as furnished by the twelve apostles on their return from a successful mission. "And the apostles gathered themselves together unto Jesus, and told Him all things, both what they had done, and what they had taught." Mark 6:30. Here we have not a case of sorrow and bereavement, but one of rejoicing and encouragement. The twelve made their way to Jesus to tell him of their success, just as the disciples of John made their way to Him in the moment of their loss. Jesus was equal to both. He could meet the heart that was crushed with sorrow, and He could meet the heart that was flushed with success. He knew how to control, to moderate, and to direct both the one and the other. BLESSINGS FOREVER BE UPON HIS HONORED NAME!

"And He said unto them, Come ye yourselves apart into a desert place, and rest a while: for there were many coming and going, and they had no leisure so much as to eat." Here then we are conducted to a point at which the moral glories of Christ shine out with uncommon luster and correct the selfishness of our poor narrow hearts. Here we are taught with unmistakable clearness that to make Jesus the depositary of our thoughts and feelings will never produce in us a spirit of haughty self sufficiency and independence, or a feeling of contempt for others. Quite the reverse. The more we have to do with Jesus, the more will our hearts be opened to meet the varied forms of human need which may present themselves to our view from day to day. It is when we come to Jesus and empty our whole hearts to Him, tell Him of our sorrows and our joys, and cast our whole burden at His feet, that we really learn how to feel for others.

There is great beauty and power in the words, "Come ye yourselves apart." He does not say, "Go ye." This would never do. There is no use in going apart into a desert place, if Jesus be not there to go to. To go into solitude without Jesus is but to make our cold, narrow hearts colder and narrower still. I may retire from the scene around me in chagrin and disappointment only to wrap myself up in impenetrable selfishness. I may fancy that my fellows have not made enough of me, and I may retire in order to make much of myself. I may make myself the center of my whole being, and thus become a cold-hearted, contracted, miserable creature. But when Jesus says "Come," the case is totally different. Our finest moral lessons are learned alone with Jesus. We cannot breathe the atmosphere of His presence without having our hearts expanded. If the apostles had gone into the desert without Jesus, they would, no doubt, have eaten the loaves and fishes themselves; but having gone with Jesus, they learned differently. He knew how to meet the need of a hungry multitude, as well as that of a company of sorrowing or rejoicing disciples. The sympathy and grace of Jesus are perfect. He can meet all. If one is sorrowful, he can go to Jesus; if he is happy, he can go to Jesus; if he is hungry, he can go to Jesus. We can bring everything to Jesus, for in Him all fullness dwells; and, blessed be His name, He never sends anyone empty away.

Not so, alas! with His poor disciples. How forbidding is their selfishness when viewed in the light of His magnificent grace! "And Jesus, when He came out, saw much people, and was moved with compassion toward them, because they were as sheep not having a shepherd: and He began to teach them many things." He had gone to a desert place to give His disciples rest; but no sooner does human need present itself than the deep flowing tide of compassion rolls forth from His tender heart.

"And when the day was now far spent, His disciples came unto Him, and said, This is a desert place, and now the time is far passed: send them away." What words to drop from the lips of men who had just returned from preaching the gospel! "Send them away." Ah! it is one thing to preach grace, and another thing to act it. No doubt, it is well to preach; but it is also well to act. Indeed, the preaching will be little worth if not combined with acting. It is well to instruct the ignorant, but it is also well to feed the hungry. The latter may involve more self-denial than the former. It may cost us nothing to preach, but it may cost us something to feed; and we do not like to have our private store intruded upon. The heart is ready to put forth its ten thousand objections: "What shall I do for myself? What will become of my family? We must act judiciously." These and similar thoughts the selfish heart can urge when a needy object presents itself.

"Send them away." What made the disciples say this? What was the real source of this selfish request? Simply unbelief. Had they only remembered that they had in their midst the One who of old had fed "six hundred thousand footmen," for forty years in the wilderness, they would have known that He would not send a hungry multitude away. Surely the same hand that had nourished such a host for so long a time could easily furnish a single meal for five thousand. This faith would reason; but, alas! unbelief darkens the understanding and contracts the heart. There is nothing so absurd as unbelief, and nothing which so shuts up the bowels of compassion. Faith and love always go together, and in proportion to the growth of the one is the growth of the other. Faith opens the floodgates of the heart and lets the tide of love flow forth. Thus the Apostle could say to the Thessalonians, "Your faith groweth exceedingly, and the charity [love] of every one of you all toward each other aboundeth." This is the divine rule. A heart that is full of faith can afford to be charitable; an unbelieving heart can afford nothing. Faith places the heart in immediate contact with God's exhaustless treasury, and fills it with the most benevolent affections. Unbelief throws the heart in upon itself and fills it with all manner of selfish fears. Faith conducts us into the soul-expanding atmosphere of heaven. Unbelief leaves us enwrapped in the withering atmosphere of this heartless world. Faith enables us to hearken to Christ's gracious accents, "Give ye them to eat." Unbelief makes us utter our own heartless words, "Send them [the multitude] away." In a word, there is nothing enlarges the heart like simple faith, and nothing so contracting as unbelief. Oh! that our faith may grow exceedingly, so that our love may abound more and more! May we reap much permanent profit from the contemplation of the sympathy and grace of Jesus!

What a striking contrast between "Send them away," and "Give ye them to eat." Thus it is ever. God's ways are not as our ways, and it is by looking at His ways that we learn to judge our ways—by looking at Him that we learn to judge ourselves. Jesus, in this lovely scene, corrects the selfishness of the disciples—first, by making them the channels through which His grace may flow to the multitude—second, by making them gather up "twelve baskets full of the fragments" for themselves.

Nor is this all. Not merely is selfishness rebuked, but the heart is most blessedly instructed. Nature might say, "What need is there of the five loaves and two fishes at all?

Surely the One who can feed such a multitude with, can as easily feed them without, such an instrumentality." Nature might argue thus; but Jesus teaches us that we are not to despise God's creatures. We are to use what we have, with God's blessing. This is a fine moral lesson for the heart. "What hast thou in the house?" is the question. It is just that and nothing else that God will use. It is easy to be liberal with what we have not; but the thing is to bring out what we have, and, with God's blessing, apply it to the present need.

So also in the gathering up of the fragments. The foolish heart might say, "What need of gathering up those scattered crumbs? Surely the One who has wrought such a miracle can have no need of fragments." Yes; but we are not to waste God's creatures. If in the using of the loaves and fishes we are taught not to despise any creature of God, in the gathering up of the fragments we are taught not to waste it. Let human need be liberally met, but let not a single crumb be wasted. How divinely perfect! How unlike us! Sometimes we are penurious, at other times prodigal.

Jesus was never either the one or the other. "Give ye them to eat." But, let "nothing be lost." Perfect grace! Perfect wisdom! May we adore it, and learn from it! May we rejoice in the assurance that the blessed One who manifested all this wisdom and grace is our life. Christ is our life, and it is the manifestation of this life that constitutes practical Christianity. It is not living by rules and regulations, but simply having Christ dwelling in the heart by faith-Christ the source of perfect sympathy and perfect grace.

In closing we might be interested and profit by a reference to our Lord's allusion to the two occasions of feeding the multitude, as given in Mark 8:19-21. "When I brake the five loaves among five thousand, how many baskets full of fragments took ye up? They say unto Him, Twelve. And when the seven among four thousand, how many baskets full of fragments took ye up? And they said, Seven. And He said unto them, How is it that ye do not understand?"

When the multitude was greater and the supply less, they had twelve large baskets of fragments; and, on the other hand, when the multitude was less and the supply greater, they had only seven small baskets. The greater the demand, and the deeper the need, the more the magnificence of divine grace shines out. Eternal and universal homage to the peerless name of our adorable Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ!

Christ for the Heart and the Heart for Christ

In this solemn chapter we have a great many hearts revealed. The hearts of the chief priests, the hearts of the elders, the hearts of the scribes, the heart of Peter, the heart of Judas. But there is one heart in particular unlike all the others, and that is the heart of the woman who brought the alabaster box of very precious ointment to anoint the body of Jesus. This woman had a heart for Christ. She may have been a very great sinner-a very ignorant sinner—but her eyes had been opened to see a beauty in Jesus which led her to judge that nothing was too costly to be spent on Him. In a word, she had a heart for Christ.

Passing over the chief priests, the elders, and the scribes, let us look for a moment at the heart of this woman in contrast with the heart of Judas and the heart of Peter.

1) Judas was a covetous man. He loved money-a very common love in every age. He had preached the gospel. He had walked in company with the Lord Jesus during the days of His public ministry. He had heard His words, seen His ways, experienced His kindness. But, alas, though an apostle, though a companion of Jesus, though a preacher of the gospel, he had no heart for Christ. He had a heart for money. His heart was ever moved by the thought of gain. When money was in question, he was all alive. The deepest depths of his being were stirred by money. "The bag" was his nearest and dearest object. Satan knew this. He knew the special lust of Judas. He was fully aware of the price at which he could be bought. He understood his man, how to tempt him, and how to use him. Solemn thought!

Be it observed, also, that the very position of Judas made him all the more fit for Satan. His acquaintance with the ways of Christ made him a fit person to betray Him into the hands of His enemies. Head knowledge of sacred things, if the heart be not touched, renders a man more awfully callous, profane, and wicked. The chief priests and scribes, in Matthew 2, had a head knowledge of the letter of Scripture, but no heart for Christ. They could at once hand down the prophetic roll and find the place where it was written, "Thou Bethlehem, in the land of Juda, art not the least among the princes of Juda: for out of thee shall come a Governor, that shall rule My people Israel." v. 6. And this was very well, very true, and very beautiful; but then they had no heart for this "Governor"—no eyes to see Him—they did not want Him. They had Scripture at their fingers' ends: They would have felt ashamed, no doubt, had they not been able to answer Herod's question. It would have been a disgrace to men in their position to exhibit ignorance; but they had no heart for Christ, and hence they laid their scriptural knowledge at the feet of an ungodly king who was about to use it, if he could, for the purpose of slaying the true Heir to the throne. So much for head knowledge without heart love.

It is not, however, that we would make little of scriptural knowledge. Far from it. The true knowledge of Scripture must lead the heart to Jesus. But there is such a thing as knowing the letter of Scripture so as to be able to repeat chapter after chapter, verse after verse, yea, so as to be a sort of walking concordance, and, all the while, the heart be cold and callous toward Christ. This knowledge will only throw one more into the hands of Satan, as in the case of the chief priests and scribes. Herod would not have applied to ignorant men for information. The devil never takes up ignorant men, or stupid men, to act against the truth of God. No; he finds other agents to do his work. The learned, the intellectual, the deep-thinking, provided only they have no heart for Christ, will answer him well at all times. What was it saved the "wise men from the east"? Why could not Herod-why could not Satan-enlist them into his service? Oh, reader, mark the reply. They had a heart for Christ. Blessed safeguard! Doubtless, they were ignorant of Scripture-they would have made but a poor hand of searching for a passage in the prophets ; but they were looking for Jesus-earnestly honestly, diligently looking for Jesus. Wherefore, Herod would fain have made use of them if he could, but they were not to be used by him. They found their way to Jesus. They did not know much about the prophet who had spoken of the "Governor"; but they found their way to the "Governor" Himself. They found Him in the Person of the Babe in the manger at Bethlehem; and instead of being tools in the hands of Herod, they were worshipers at the feet of Jesus.

Now it is not that we would commend ignorance of Scripture. By no means. People are sure to err greatly who know not the Scriptures. It was to the praise of Timothy that the Apostle could say to him, "From a child thou hast known the holy Scriptures, which are able to make thee wise unto salvation"; but then he adds, "through faith which is in Christ Jesus." 2 Tim. 3:15. The true knowledge of Scripture will always conduct us to the feet of Jesus; but mere head knowledge of Scripture without heart love for Christ will only render us the more effective agents in the hands of Satan.

Thus, in the case of the hardhearted money-loving Judas, he had knowledge without a spark of affection for Christ, and his very familiarity with that blessed One made him a suitable instrument for the devil. His nearness to Jesus enabled him to be a traitor. The devil knew that thirty pieces of silver could purchase his service in the horrible work of betraying his Master.

Reader, think of this! Here was an apostle-a preacher of the gospel-a high professor; yet, underneath the cloak of profession lay "a heart . . . exercised with covetous practices"—a heart which had a wide place for "thirty pieces of silver," but not a corner for Jesus. What a case! what a picture! what a warning! Oh! all ye heartless professors, think of Judas! think of his course! think of his character! think of his end! He preached the gospel, but he never knew it, never believed it, never felt it. He had painted sunbeams on canvas, but he had never felt their influence. He had plenty of heart for money, but no heart for Christ. As "the son of perdition" "he hanged himself" and "went to his own place."

Professing Christians, beware of head knowledge, lip profession, official piety, mechanical religion-beware of these things, and seek to have a heart for Christ.

2) In Peter we have another warning, though of a different kind. He really loved Jesus, but he feared the cross. He shrank from confessing His name in the midst of the enemy's ranks. He boasted of what he would do, when he should have been self-emptied. He was fast asleep when he ought to have been on his knees. Instead of praying, he was sleeping; and, then, instead of being still, he was drawing his sword. He followed Jesus "afar off," and then warmed himself at the high priest's fire. Finally, he cursed and swore that he did not know his gracious Master. All this was terrible! Who could suppose that the Peter of Matthew 16:16 is the Peter of Matthew 26? Yet, so it is. Man in his best estate is but like a sere autumn leaf. There is none abiding. The highest position, the loudest profession, may all end in following Jesus afar off, and of basely denying His name.

It is very probable, yea, almost certain, that Peter would have spurned the thought of selling Jesus for thirty pieces of silver, and yet he was afraid to confess Him before a servant maid. He might not have betrayed Him to His enemies, but he denied Him before them. He may not have loved money, but he failed to manifest a heart for Christ.

Christian reader, remember Peter's fall, and beware of self-confidence. Cultivate a prayerful spirit. Keep close to Jesus. Keep away from the influence of this world's favor. "Keep thyself pure." Beware of dropping into a sleepy, torpid condition of soul. Be earnest and watchful. Be occupied with Christ. This is the true safeguard.

Do not be satisfied with the mere avoidance of open sin. Do not rest in mere blamelessness of conduct and character. Cherish lively, warm affections toward Christ. One who follows Jesus "afar off" may deny Him before long. Let us think of this. Let us profit by the case of Peter. He himself afterward tells us to "be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour: whom resist steadfast in the faith" (1 Pet. 5:8, 9). These are weighty words, coming as they do from the Holy Ghost, through the pen of one who had suffered so much from lack of "vigilance."

Blessed be the grace that could say to Peter, before his fall, "I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not." Mark, He does not say, "I have prayed for thee that thou mayest not fall." No; but "that thy faith fail not" when thou hast fallen. Precious, matchless grace! This was Peter's resource. He was a debtor to grace from first to last. As a lost sinner, he was a debtor to "the precious blood of Christ"; and as a stumbling saint, he was a debtor to the all-prevailing advocacy of Christ. Thus it was with Peter. The advocacy of Christ was the basis of his happy restoration. Of this advocacy Judas knew nothing. It is only those who are washed in the blood that partake of the advocacy. Judas knew nothing of either. Hence he "went and hanged himself," whereas Peter went forth as a converted or restored soul, to "strengthen" his brethren. There is no one so fit to strengthen his brethren as one who has himself experienced the restoring grace of Christ. Peter was able to stand before the congregation of Israel and say, "Ye denied the Holy One and the Just," the very thing he had done himself. This shows how entirely his conscience was purged by the blood, and his heart restored by the advocacy of Christ.

3) And now, one word as to the woman with the alabaster box. She stands forth in bright and beauteous contrast with all. While the chief priests, elders, and scribes were plotting against Christ in "the palace of the high priest, who was called Caiaphas," she was anointing His body "in the house of Simon the leper." While Judas was covenanting with the chief priests to sell Jesus for thirty pieces of silver, she was pouring the precious contents of her alabaster box upon His Person. Touching contrast! She was wholly absorbed with her Object, and her Object was Christ. Those who knew not His worth and beauty might pronounce her sacrifice a waste. Those who could sell Him for thirty pieces of silver might talk of giving "to the poor"; but she heeded them not. Their surmisings and murmurings were nothing to her. She had found her all in Christ. They might murmur, but she could worship and adore. Jesus was more to her than all the poor in, the world. She felt that nothing was "waste" that was spent on Him. He might only be worth thirty pieces of silver to one who had a heart for money. He was worth ten thousand worlds to her, because she had a heart for Christ. Happy woman! May we imitate her! May we ever find our place at the feet of Jesus, loving, adoring, admiring, and worshiping His blessed Person. May we spend and be spent in His service, even though heartless professors should deem our service a foolish "waste." The time is rapidly approaching when we shall not repent of anything done for His name's sake; yea, if there could be room for a single regret, it will be that we so faintly and feebly served His cause in the world. If, on the "morning without clouds,"- a single blush could mantle the cheek, it will be that we did not, when down here, dedicate ourselves more undividedly to His service.

Reader, let us ponder- these things. And may- the Lord grant us A HEART FOR CHRIST.

Note—There is something perfectly beautiful in the way in which the. Lord vindicates the act of the woman. "When Jesus understood it, He- said unto them, Why trouble ye the woman? for she hath wrought a good work upon Me. For ye have the poor always with you; but Me ye have not always. For in that she hath poured this ointment on my body, she did it for My burial. Verily I say unto you, Wheresoever this gospel shall be preached in the whole world, there shall also this, that this woman hath done, be told for a memorial of her."

Nothing can exceed the grace that- shines in- these most precious words. "This gospel," which reveals Christ for the heart, is here linked-with an act which reveals a heart for Christ, and sent forth to the whole world, to be heard by countless millions. The Lord be praised!

C. H. M.

Reconciliation: What is it?

The testimony of Scripture is as distinct as possible on this great question. It never speaks of God being reconciled to us. "If, when we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of His Son" (Rom. 5:10). It does not say that God was reconciled to us. The death of Christ was essential to the reconciliation; but man was the enemy of God and needed to be reconciled. So we read in Col. 1:21, "And you, that were sometime alienated and enemies in your mind by wicked works, yet now hath He reconciled." The ground of this is stated in the previous verse to be "the blood of His cross." So also in 2 Cor. 5:19, "God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto Himself." It does not say, "reconciling Himself to the world."

Thus, to anyone who bows to Scripture—as everyone ought—the truth is as clear as a sunbeam. "God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son." And not only gave Him, but bruised Him on the cross. "It pleased the LORD [Jehovah] to bruise Him." It is of the utmost importance to maintain the true aspect of God's nature and character in the presentation of the gospel. To say that Christ died to reconcile the Father to us, is to falsify the divine character, as seen in the mission and death of His Son. God was not man's enemy, but his friend. True, sin had to be condemned; God's truth, holiness, and majesty had to be vindicated. All this was done, in a divine way, in the cross, where we read, at once, God's hatred of sin and His love to the sinner.

Atonement is the necessary basis of reconciliation; but it is of the very last importance to see that it is God who reconciles us to Himself. This He does, blessed forever be His holy name, at no less a cost than "the death of His Son." Such was His love to man—His kindness—His goodness—His deep compassion, that, when there was no other possible way—sin being in question—in which man, the guilty enemy and rebel, could be reconciled to God, He gave His Son from His bosom; "made Him to be sin for us"; bruised Him for our iniquities on Calvary's cursed tree. Eternal and universal homage to His name!

Oh! beloved reader, should not all this magnificent display of love and grace draw and bind our hearts to our ever-gracious God in sweetest confidence—banish all our fears and forebodings, and fill our souls with a liberty and peace that not all the power of earth and hell, men and devils, can disturb?

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