Things New and Old: Volume 3

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 Tightness 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 sapper: “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 does 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!

A Present Salvation

During the late and present revivals, many truths, of great and vital importance, have been brought prominently before the professing Church. For the acknowledgment and maintenance of these, the Church is now responsible. If the light which God has powerfully and practically brought in, be rejected, judgment must follow! Light always brings responsibility. This is the solemn position in which the Church is now placed. The revival has greatly increased her responsibilities. And not only as to truth, but also as to the increase of “lambs” and “sheep,” which need constant pastoral care. While we have much to be truly thankful for, we have much, very much to be accountable for. The Church is God’s witness on the earth; “the pillar and ground of the truth,” and the channel of grace and truth to souls. It is also spoken of as a “candlestick,”— a light-bearer. Hence, it is always a solemn thing to trifle with, or reject, the light which God vouchsafes to give, either in the case of an individual, or in

the case of the professing Church at large. “He that hath an ear, let him hear what the Spirit saith unto the churches.” (Rev. 2; 3)

The following truths appear to us to have been graciously revived, in many quarters of late. What may have been formerly held and taught doctrinally, have been lately manifested amongst us, in living power and blessed reality. Glory be to God!

I. The truth as to the presence and power of the Holy Ghost on the earth, has been convincingly displayed, in numberless cases of happy conversion, without the intervention of human instrumentality. Who could fail to be convinced that the Holy Ghost Himself is present and acting in divine power? Souls have been brought, in spirit to Christ in heaven, by the working of the Holy Ghost on the earth. Oh! that His presence, hereafter, may be duly acknowledged, and His sovereign rule and authority fully submitted to. See John 14; 15; 16; Acts 2.

2. The blessed Lord Jesus, as the risen Man in glory, has been seen and enjoyed, as the one object of the soul’s confidence and delight. He has been revealed by the Holy Ghost as such, to many hearts. Hence, we do not now hear, as we once did, merely of such an one having made a profession of religion, but of such an one having been brought to Jesus, made happy in Him, and bearing the first fruits of the Spirit, which are “love, joy, and peace.” This is a glorious truth! occupation with a heavenly Object is the only way of making us heavenly in our thoughts, affections, and practical ways. Phil. 3.

3. The knowledge of a present salvation, to all who believe in Jesus. Not merely a hope that all may end well, if the best endeavors are put forth, but the happy assurance that all is now well, and shall be well forever, by the pure grace of God.

4. The power and various uses of prayer, and prayer-meetings. These have been multiplied in some quarters, nearly a hundred-fold. What a reviving! May we never witness a falling away! “Pray without ceasing.’’ (1 Thess. 5:17.)

5. Many who had lost sight of the solemn, yet cheering truth of the Lord’s coming, are now, “Looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ.” (Titus 2) How often have we heard of late, such expressions as, “Surely the time is short. The coming of the Lord draweth nigh. Is not the Lord rapidly gathering out His own? Surely, He will, ere long, be here Himself.” May this blessed truth be maintained in living power, in our hearts, until we are wrapt in clouds to meet the Lord in the air. (1 Thess. 4:14, 18. 1 Cor. 15:51, 58.)

Surely the revival of such deeply precious truths, is a rich blessing to the Church, from its exalted Head in glory. It is like a fresh trust committed unto her. And we have not been called to learn them from the lips of some great teachers whom the Lord might have sent, as He has done in former times; but from the practical exhibition of His living grace in thousands of precious souls. Our lesson is to be learned, in their present and eternal blessing. And they remain before us, as the Epistle of Christ, written not with ink, but with the Spirit of the living God; not in tables of stone, but in fleshly tables of the heart. (2 Cor. 3:3.) May the epistle never become blotted and difficult to read, and may the Church be true and faithful to her new, and increased responsibilities.

But we must also bear in mind, that those truths which have been most graciously revived in many quarters; and which have come home to many hearts with all the freshness and power of something quite new, are, nevertheless? abundantly taught in the Holy Scriptures. There they are to be met with, richly strewed on every page. If they were not previously seen and enjoyed, the fault is not in Scripture. Take, for example, the everywhere needed, yet much overlooked truth, of a present salvation to the believer in Jesus. No truth is less enjoyed by a large majority of christians, and yet, no truth is more plainly, or frequently taught in Scripture. We will conclude these reflections, by referring to one or two passages on this point.

Turn with me, in the first place, to John 5:24. “Verily, verily, I say unto you, he that heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation, but is passed from death unto life.” This is the Lord’s own declaration as to the present condition of those who believe the gospel-the truth here presented. Nothing could be more pointed and solemn. He begins with a, “Verily, verily, I say unto you.” It is only the voice of Jesus that can speak peace to a troubled soul, and give the full assurance of a present salvation. Only let the weary and heavy-laden listen unto Him, and it shall be so. “I say unto you.” This is the voice of Jesus. “He that heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me.” This is the truth to be believed— the gospel of the grace of God. It has its source in God, and “God is love.” It flows from the heart of God, the fountain of redeeming love, and Jesus is the channel of that love to us. It is elsewhere called, “the gospel of God.... concerning his Son Jesus Christ our Lord.” (Rom. 1:1-3.)

Now, my dear reader, this is what Jesus would have you and me firmly to believe. Namely, that every blessing to the sinner, flows from the heart of God as its source, and comes to us, in the Person, and through the work, of the Lord Jesus Christ. When we truly believe this, we are drawn to God in Christ, as to the One who loves us, and sent His only begotten Son to die for us, that we might not only be saved, but brought back to Himself, and made happy in His love forever. (See John 3:14-18. 1 John 4:8, 19. 1 Pet. 3:18.) This truth, when believed, wins the confidence of our hearts, and we trust in Jesus, as our Saviour, knowing that God is glorified, and has His own joy in our salvation.

And now, mark the three grand consequences of faith in the word of Jesus. First, the possession of everlasting life. It is a present reality. “Hath everlasting life.” Not, observe, may, at some future period, have it, but “hath” it now, at this present time. Secondly, “And shall not come into condemnation.” The believer is now, completely, and forever justified. He can never again, even stand in judgment. He stands in Christ, and with Christ. And he is just as safe as Christ Himself, being, by faith, one with Him. Thirdly, “But is passed from death unto life.” The state of the believer is entirely and forever changed. He has passed from a condition of death of trespasses and sins, into one of life, forgiveness, and complete justification. This is the present condition of every believer in Christ Jesus, without one exception. Surely this is a present salvation, and an everlasting salvation. The life, standing, and condition of the soul, are all completely changed. Christ Himself is the life, standing, and condition of the believer in the sight of God. To know this, is light to the eyes, peace to the conscience, and joy to the heart. But oh! my dear reader, hear it, learn it, believe it, from the lips of Christ Himself.

Turn now, to Luke 7:36-50. Here, we find a poor, distressed soul at the feet of Jesus. The only right place for such. But Jesus is much engaged with Simon and his friends. Will He attend to this poor, disreputable sinner at once, and before them all? Oh, yes! He will; He does. And His loving, gracious, tender heart is so filled with her case, that He seems to pay no more attention either to Simon or his friends, save to show them, how much he values her weeping love, above all that self-righteousness can do. The poor woman’s tears and kisses, were a richer feast, and more refreshing to His heart, than anything Simon had set before Him.

But mark, especially, the three blessings, which he said were now hers. First, “And he said unto her, thy sins are forgiven.” It was not something, you perceive, yet to be done, but something already done. It was an accomplished, a present reality. “Thy sins are forgiven.” Secondly, “Thy faith hath saved thee,” she was already saved. It was done. Thy faith-thy confidence in me as thy Saviour, “hath saved thee.” Not, observe, her tears, her kisses, or her ointment, precious as these were to the heart of Jesus.; but her “faith.” This is encouraging; for such humility is often wanting. Few come up to the measure of this poor woman. But, blessed be God, wherever there is simple faith, there is a present salvation. Thirdly, “Go in peace.” All is now peace to the soul, and peace with God. The voice of Jesus speaks peace to herself. Everything that was against her has been put away, on the ground of the sacrifice of Christ. Such are God’s ways of wondrous grace, with every sinner that falls at the feet of Jesus for mercy.

But someone who reads this paper may say, “This is just where I am, I know. And none but the Lord Himself knows the depths of distress I have passed through in my soul, and the tears I have shed. But I cannot feel that the heavy burden of my sins is removed, and I am still an utter stranger to peace. Why is this?” Only one reason, beloved reader, can be given for the continuance of such a state of soul. And that is, you are not listening to, and believing what Jesus is saying to you. You are listening to the suggestions of your own mind, and guided by the feelings of your own heart. Shut your ears against every voice but that of Jesus, and you will soon be happy. You have yet to learn this all-important principle, namely, that you must believe a thing, before you can feel it. You must believe that your sins are forgiven before you can feel it—you must believe that you are saved before you can feel it—you must believe that you have peace, before you can feel it. If, as you say, you are at the feet of Jesus, in earnest about your soul, and looking to Him alone for salvation, then, believe, oh, believe His word. He is saying to you, as plainly as words can say anything, “thy sins are forgiven, thy faith hath saved thee, go in peace.” “Only believe,” and you will be quite happy, and rejoicing. How could you be otherwise, if you believed His word? But how can you expect to find rest to your soul, before you believe the truth that declares you have peace? And let there be no half work, believe it fully, allow no doubt or question to arise in your mind. Hear Christ Himself saying these precious words to you. What would you have thought, if, when Jesus, in such love and tenderness, said to this poor woman at His feet, “thy sins are forgiven,” she had said to Him, ‘Well, I hope they are.’ Could anything have been more wounding to the heart of Jesus? Well, and what have you been doing all this time? And what are thousands of His dear ones doing? Though it may be in ignorance, and in much tenderness of soul, still, they are wounding His patient, loving heart, with their unworthy doubts and fears. Surely when He says, thy sins are forgiven, you ought implicitly, and with all your heart, to believe it, and doubt no more forever. His word never changes, and your condition never can, in His sight. You may experience many changes of mind and feeling within yourself, but your life, standing, and condition in Christ are like Himself, unchangeable.

May your soul get a firm hold of the precious words of Jesus, in all their divine fullness and simplicity, and rejoice before Him in the happy assurance of your own perfect and present salvation.

Who trust unto the Lamb,

Whom we in heaven see,

Are cleans’d by blood from guilt and shame.

From condemnation free.

This union ne’er shall break,

Though earth’s strong columns bow,

The strong, the tempted, and the weak,

Are one in Jesus now.

Jehovah's Tender Care

(an extract.)

“And, now, as to the second class of statutes contained in our section, namely, those which so touchingly bring out divine tenderness and care. Take the following, “And when ye reap the harvest of your land, thou shalt not wholly reap the corners of thy field, neither shalt thou gather the gleanings of thy harvest. And thou shalt not glean thy vineyard, neither shalt thou gather every grape of thy vineyard, thou shalt leave them for the poor and stranger; I am the Lord your God.” (chap. 19:9, 10.) This ordinance will meet us again in chap, 23; but there we shall see it in its dispensational bearing. Here we contemplate it morally, as unfolding the precious grace of Israel’s God. He would think of “the poor and stranger,” and He would have His people think of them likewise. When the golden sheaves were being reaped, and the mellow clusters gathered, “the poor and stranger” were to be remembered by the Israel of God, because Jehovah was the God of Israel. The reaper and the grape-gatherer were not to be governed by a spirit of grasping covetousness, which would bare the corners of the field, and strip the branches of the vine; but rather by a spirit of large-hearted, generous benevolence, which would leave a sheaf and a cluster, for “the poor and stranger,” that they, too, might rejoice in the unbounded goodness of Him whose paths drop fatness, and on whose open hand all the sons of want may confidently wait.

The book of Ruth furnishes a fine example of one who fully acted out this most benevolent statute. “And Boaz said unto her, (Ruth) At meal time come thou hither, and eat of the bread, and dip thy morsel in the vinegar. And she sat beside the reapers, and he reached her parched corn, and she did eat, and was sufficed and left. And when she was risen up to glean, Boaz commanded his young men, saying, Let her glean even among the sheaves, and reproach her not: and let fall some of the handfuls of purpose for her; and leave them, that she may glean them, and rebuke her not.” (Ruth 2:14-16.) Most touching and beautiful grace! Truly it is good for our poor, cold, selfish hearts, to be brought in contact with such principles and such practices. Nothing can surpass the exquisite refinement of the words, “let fall also some of the handfuls of purpose for her.” It was evidently the desire of this noble Israelite that “the stranger” might have abundance, and have it, too, rather as the fruit of her own gleaning than of his benevolence. This was the very essence of refinement. It was putting her in immediate connection with, and dependence upon, the God of Israel, who had fully recognized and provided for “the gleaner.” Boaz was merely acting out that gracious ordinance, of which Ruth was reaping the benefit. The same grace that had given him the field, gave her the gleanings. They were both debtors to grace. She was the happy recipient of Jehovah’s goodness. He was the honored exponent of Jehovah’s most gracious institution. All was in most lovely moral order. The creature was blessed and God was glorified. Who would not own that it is good for us to be allowed to breathe such an atmosphere?

Let us now turn to another statute of our section. “Thou shalt not defraud thy neighbor, neither rob him; the wages of him that is hired shall not abide with thee all night until the morning” (chap. 19:13.) What tender care is here! The high and mighty One that inhabiteth eternity can take knowledge of the thoughts and feelings that spring up in the heart of a poor laborer. He knows, and takes into account, the expectations of such a one in reference to the fruit of his day’s toil. The wages will naturally be looked for. The laborers heart counts upon them—the family meal depends upon them. Oh! let them not be held back. Send not the laborer home with a heavy heart to make the heart of his wife and family heavy likewise. By all means give him that for which he has wrought, to which he has a right, and on which his heart is set. He is a husband; he is a father; and he has borne the burden and heat of the day, that his wife and children may not go hungry to bed. Disappoint him not. Give him his due.

Thus does our God take notice of the very throbbings of the laborers heart, and make provision for his rising expectations. Precious grace! Most tender, thoughtful, touching, condescending love! The bare contemplation of such statutes is sufficient to throw one into a flood of tenderness. Could anyone read such passages, and not be melted? Could anyone read them, and thoughtlessly dismiss a poor laborer, not knowing whether he and his family have wherewithal to meet the cravings of hunger. Nothing can be more painful to a tender heart than the lack of kindly consideration for the poor, so often manifested by the rich. These latter can sit down to their sumptuous repast, after dismissing from their door some poor industrious fellow creature, who had come seeking the just reward of his honest labor. They think not of the aching heart with which that man returns to his family, to tell them of the disappointment to himself and to them. Oh! it is terrible. It is most offensive to God, and to all who have drank in any measure into His grace. If we would know what God thinks of such acting, we have only to hearken to the following accents of holy indignation: “Behold the hire of the laborers who have reaped down your fields, which is of you kept back by fraud, crieth; and the cries of them which have reaped are entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth.” (Jas. 5:4.) “The Lord of Sabaoth” hears the cry of the aggrieved and disappointed laborer. His tender love tells itself forth in the institutions of His moral government, and even though the heart should not be melted by the grace of those institutions, the conduct should at least be governed by the righteousness thereof. God will not suffer the claims of the poor to be heartlessly tossed aside, by those who are so hardened by the influence of wealth as to be insensible to the appeals of tenderness, and who are so far removed beyond the region of personal need as to be incapable of feeling for those whose lot it is to spend their days amid exhausting toil or pinching poverty. The poor are the special objects of God’s care. Again and again He makes provision for them in the statutes of His moral administration; and it is particularly declared of Him who shall, ere long, assume in manifested glory the reins of government, that “He shall deliver the needy when he crieth; the poor also, and him that hath no helper. He shall spare the poor and needy, and shall save the souls of the needy; He shall redeem their souls from deceit and violence, and precious shall their blood be in His sight.” Ps. 62:12-14.

May we profit by the review of those precious and deeply practical truths! May our hearts be affected, and our conduct influenced by them! We live in a heartless world; and there is a vast amount of selfishness in our own hearts. We are not sufficiently affected by the thought of the need of others. We are apt to forget the poor in the midst of our abundance. We often forget that the very persons whose labor ministers to our personal comforts are living, it may be, in the deepest poverty. Let us think of these things; let us beware of “grinding the faces of the poor.” If the Jews of old were taught by the statutes and ordinances of the Mosaic economy to entertain kindly feelings towards the poor, and to deal tenderly and graciously with the sons of toil, how much more ought the higher and more spiritual ethics of the gospel dispensation produce in the hearts and lives of Christians a large-hearted benevolence toward every form of human need.

True, there is urgent need of prudence and caution, lest we take a man out of the honorable position in which he was designed and fitted to move, namely, a position of dependence upon the fruits—the precious fruits of honest industry. This would be a grievous injury, instead of a benefit. The example of Boaz should instruct us in this matter. He allowed Ruth to glean; but he took care to make her gleaning profitable. This is a very safe and a very simple principle. God intends that man should work at something or another; and we run counter to Him when we draw our fellow out of the place of dependence upon the results of patient industry, into that of dependence upon the results of a false benevolence. The former is as honorable and elevating as the latter is contemptible and demoralizing. There is no bread so sweet to the taste as that which is nobly earned; but then those who earn their bread should get enough. A man will feed and care for his horses; how much more his fellow, who yields him the labor of his hands from Monday morning to Saturday night. But some will say, “There are two sides to this question.” Unquestionably there are; and no doubt, one meets with a great deal amongst the poor which is calculated to dry up the springs of benevolence and genuine sympathy. There is much which tends to steel the heart and close the hand; but one thing is certain, it is better to be deceived in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, than to shut up the bowels of compassion against a single worthy object. Our heavenly Father causes His sun to shine upon the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain upon the just and upon the unjust, &c. The same sunbeams that gladden the heart of some devoted servant of Christ are poured upon the path of some ungodly sinner; and the self-same shower that falls upon the tillage of a true believer, enriches also the furrows of some blaspheming infidel. This is to be our model, “Be ye, therefore, perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.” (Matt. 5:4, 8.) It is only as we set the Lord before us, and walk in the power of His grace, that we shall be able to go on from day to day, meeting with a tender heart and an open hand every possible form of human misery. It is only as we ourselves are drinking at the exhaustless fountain of divine love and tenderness, that we shall be able to go on ministering to human need, unchecked by the oft-repeated manifestations of human depravity. Our tiny springs would soon be dried up, were they not maintained in unbroken connection with that ever-gushing source. —From MS. of “Notes on Leviticus.”

The Divine Anathema

“If any man love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be Anathema Maranatha.” 1 Cor. 16:22.

The position which this solemn anathema occupies is truly remarkable. In the course of his lengthened epistle, the apostle had to rebuke and correct many practical evils, and doctrinal errors. There were divisions amongst the Corinthians. They were puffed up for one against another. There was fornication amongst them. They went to law one with another. There was gross disorder at the Lord’s Supper. Some of them called in question the grand foundation truth of the resurrection of the dead.

These were grave errors and formidable evils-errors and evils which called forth the sharp and stern reproof of the inspired apostle. But, be it carefully noted, that when, at the close, he pronounces his solemn “Anathema Maranatha,” it is not directed against those who had introduced the errors or practiced the evils, but against “any man who loves not the Lord Jesus Christ.” This, surely, is well worthy of serious thought. The only security against all manner of error and evil is genuine love to the Lord Jesus Christ. A man may be so strictly moral, as that no one could put the word “Anathema” signifies anything devoted to death; and “Maranatha” signifies the Lord cometh to judgment. His finger upon a single blot in his character—a single stain in his reputation, and, underneath that strict morality, there may be a heart as cold as ice, so far as the Lord Jesus is concerned. Again, a man may be so marked by a spirit of noble benevolence, that his influence is felt throughout the entire sphere in which he moves; and, all the while, his heart may not have a single pulsation of love to Christ. Finally, a man may possess, in the region of his understanding, a perfectly orthodox creed, and he may be devotedly attached to the ordinances and observances of traditionary religion, and be wholly without affection for the adorable Person of the Lord Jesus Christ. It may even happen that all these things, namely, lofty morality, noble benevolence, sound orthodoxy, and devoted attachment to religious forms, exist in one and the same individual, and that individual be wholly void of a single spark of genuine affection for the Lord Jesus Christ, and, as a solemn and startling consequence, stand exposed to the burning Anathema of God the Holy Ghost. I may be moral, through love to self. I may be benevolent through love to my fellow. I may be orthodox, through a love of dogmas. I may be religious, through a love of sect. But none of these things can shield me from the merited judgment which is denounced by the Holy Ghost against “any man” no matter who or what, who “loves not the Lord Jesus Christ.”

This is a deeply solemn and most seasonable word for the present moment. Let the reader deeply ponder it. Let him remember that the only basis for true morality—the only basis for genuine benevolence—the only basis for divine orthodoxy—the only basis for “pure religion” is love to the Lord Jesus Christ, and where this love exists not, all is cold, sterile, and worthless—all exposed to death and judgment by the “Anathema Maranatha” of the Holy Ghost. If the heart be really touched with the vital spark of love to Jesus, then every effort after pure morality, every struggle against our hateful lusts, passions, and tempers, every opening of the hand of genuine benevolence, every sound and truthful principle, every act of devotion, every pious aspiration, every fervent breathing, every outgoing of the soul, is precious to the Father—precious to the Son—precious to the Holy Ghost—all is fragrant with the perfume of that dear Name which is the theme of heaven’s wonder—the center of heaven’s joy, the object of heaven’s worship.

And, my beloved reader, should we not “love the Lord Jesus Christ? “Should we not hold Him dearer to our heart than all beside? Should we not be ready to surrender all for Him? Should not our bosoms swell with emotions of sincere attachment to His Person, in heaven, and His cause on earth? How could we trace Him from the bosom of the Father to the manger of Bethlehem—from the manger of Bethlehem to the cross of Calvary—and from the cross of Calvary to the throne of the majesty in the heavens—how could we “consider” Him as “the Apostle and High Priest of our profession,” and not have our whole moral being brought under the mighty constraining influence of His love?

May the Holy Ghost so unfold to our souls His matchless glories and peerless excellencies, that we may “count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus our Lord.’’

“ Jesus, I love thy charming name;

‘Tis music to mine ear,

Fain would I sound it out so loud,

That earth and heaven should hear.

Yes, thou art precious to my soul,

My transport and my trust:

Jewels to thee are gaudy toys,

And gold is sordid dust.

All my capacious powers can wish,

In thee doth richly meet:

Nor, to mine eyes, is light so dear,

Νor friendship half so sweet.

Thy grace still dwells upon my heart,

And sheds its fragrance there;

The noblest balm of all its wounds,

The cordial of its care.”

I Looked, And, Lo, a Lamb

“The next day John seeth Jesus coining unto him, and saith, Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world.”—John 1:29.

“And I looked, and, lo, a Lamb stood on the mount Sion, and with him an hundred forty and four thousand, having his Father’s name written in their foreheads.”—Rev. 14:1.

I looked, and, lo, a Lamb—oh, wondrous sight!

And can it be

That I, too, soon shall rise to regions bright,

The Lamb to see?

That in His face of love—His own dear face,

I, too, shall gaze,

And shout aloud the wonders of His grace

In ceaseless lays?

Oh! ‘twill be joy to hear that very voice

Whose whisper here

Can bid the heavy—laden one rejoice,

Can still each fear.

And then, to see those wounds—the nail-pierced hands.

And riven side—

While, there, the purchase of such love shall stand,

His blood-bought bride.

Oh! what a thought, she, now, despised of men,

Shall triumph there;

And all His poor rejected ones shall then.

That triumph share!

They shall no more go out! in Him their rest,

Their home shall be.

In seeing, hearing, knowing Him, be blest

Eternally.

Philemon

Though a profound stranger among men, meeting nothing to attract Him, but everything to force His spirit continually to retire, yet was the Lord most accessible and full of activity; and this glorifies His life, or sets it off in great moral beauty—that, though forced, through purity, to be a lonely One, He was ever, in grace, an active One. These activities of His were spent on all kinds of persons, and therefore assumed all kinds of forms. He was brought into contact with adversaries of different characters—with the fickle multitude, with a body of disciples who (in a sense separated from the people) companied with Him, with the twelve, and with individuals. This kept Him not only in constant, but in very various activity, and He had to know (as I need not say He did to perfection) “how to answer every man.”

Individuals, who either claimed Him and sought Him, or were sought and found by Him, give us the most precious view of His activity, for they show us His dealing with the soul. It is the question of life and eternity that is discussed and settled on such occasions. It is something more than answering adversaries with fitting wisdom, or meeting the multitude in their need, or warning disciples who followed Him, or talking in the intimacy of friendship with the twelve. It is the soul that is concerned immediately and personally. Andrew and his companion seek Him—Philip is found of Him, and so is the Samaritan, and so the blind beggar outside the camp—Zacchaeus seeks Him—Matthew is called by Him; but in all these individual cases it is the soul in its quickening for eternity we see, and this gives these cases the dearest, deepest character. We hang over them with an interest which tells us we ourselves have part in them.

At Bethany, we see the Lord adopting a family scene. There He admitted such fellowship as would not have been consistent with a disallowance of the scene. He could not have been at Bethany, as we see He was, had He disallowed the affection that suits a family circle. He was as a well-known friend there, finding, as we still say among ourselves, a home in that loved house. “Now Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus.” These are words which bespeak this. He was not there merely as an invited guest—nay, nor merely as a Saviour, nor as one that had won for Himself a welcome by His sweet and profitable words. Such was seen in the house of Simon the Pharisee, in the village of the Samaritans, and at the table at Emmaus; but here, at Bethany, Jesus was as one well known—a loved and honored visitor, whose title to all that was there was understood and felt. But, though it were thus, Jesus did not interfere with the arrangements of the house. As having the title of an intimate friend, He knew His welcome at all times; yet the order of the family was not at His discretion. Martha may still be the busy one—the housekeeper. Jesus leaves things as He finds them. It was not for Him to meddle. As He could not enter the house of another unbidden, so, having entered, He would not interfere with the order He finds there. All this is perfection in its place. But, if one of the family, instead of carrying herself in her family place, will step out and be a teacher in His presence, He will then resume His higher character and set things divinely right, though He would not touch them, as I may speak, domestically.

What various and exquisite beauty! —what an archetype of all moral perfectness may be traced in this Son of man!

It is, however, happy to see kindredness in the personal beauty of the Lord and in the inwrought beauty of the saints. It is indeed true that this moral perfectness belongs to Him. It is His own—His personally; while it is theirs in and by the Spirit only. This gives, in one sense, an infinite distance between Him and them—the distance that there is between the Sanctifier and the sanctified, which is infinite. Still it is blessed to see how the workmanship of the Spirit, or the fruit of the renewed mind in a saint, is after the model or original of a mind that was in Christ; and we may see a sample of this in St. Paul, according to that which we have now been looking at in the Lord.

Paul, in his ministry, like his Master, had to do with a great variety of persons. In his preaching, he was debtor, as he tells us, “both to the wise and to the unwise, to the Greek and to the barbarian, the bondman and the freeman; and he was willing to be all things to all men, that he might by all means save some.” In his care of the churches, he had to watch all the devices of the enemy in corrupting the truth or in ensnaring the saints—to feed the soul—to warn and to exhort—to rejoice and to be sorry, according to the condition of things he found among them, and to meet all this in the grace of Him who had gone before him in this extended experience of what man was, and what the ways of the great enemy.

And Paul had his narrower circle, as Jesus had before him. He had his dear son Timothy, whose tears he called to mind, and in recollection of whom, and of his dear family, his heart could indulge itself; and he had also his loved Philippians, for whom he could “thank God upon every remembrance of them.”

And, further, like His Lord, he had his disappointments where he might have expected comforts-his discouragements when he might have looked for supports. They of Asia deserted him, and “at his first answer in the presence of the power no man stood with him.”

All this was a large field of ministerial experience, among men or in the world-among disciples or in the churches— from false brethren, or at least unfaithful ones—from the deep and various subtleties of Satan, as well as from the personal grace and fellowship of a few who were his comfort to the end.

Beyond all this, however, we see the apostle in a certain connection with a family scene, as we have already looked at the Lord at Bethany. I mean in his intercourse with Philemon; and we see him ordering himself in that intercourse in a way which may still remind us of his Master.

In his epistle to that beloved fellow-disciple, we listen to the voice of an apostle, a suitor, and a brother in Christ. St. Paul had to sustain all these characters; and he does so, not sacrificing one of them to another of them; and this is beautiful—the workmanship of the Spirit in him, as it were, after the model of Jesus at Bethany.

In the first ten verses of this lovely epistle, we hear the voice of an apostle. Paul addresses Philemon in conscious authority, as having a higher relationship to him in the faith or in the order of the house of God. He salutes him, thanks God for him, and then prays for him—as he does, ordinarily, in all his epistles, for the churches—expressing likewise his joy in the grace that was in him, as he would rejoice in the grace that was in them, as, for instance, in his dear Philippians.

Then, to the 19th verse, we hear the suitor; and in such a character Paul stands in the acknowledgment of Philemon’s rights, as a master in his own house and owner of his own possessions, as simply and as fully as if he were not an apostle. His desire as a suitor, is not allowed to take advantage of his apostleship; and this is beautiful. He who charges servants not to despise their masters because they are brethren, will not presume on the worldly rights of a brother because he is an apostle (see 1 Tim. 6). Paul makes his requests of Philemon touching Philemon’s servant Onesimus, under the sense of his title as a master, as much as any stranger, any citizen of the world could have done; and again, I say, this is beautiful. As Jesus would not interfere with family order, His servant would not trespass on family rights and possessions. He knows when to be an apostle and when to be a suitor, and how to be both in season, in the spirit of his Lord, who knew when to be the Teacher, the divine authoritative Teacher, and when to be the family Friend. The Spirit of the Master guided the servants in the steps of the Master, and we may follow Paul as he followed Christ. There is something lovely in this. The character of a suitor is not lost in that of the apostle. Apostleship is not allowed to trespass on civil rights. Paul skillfully uses his materials, and plies his reasons. That is so; but that is just what an interested suitor would do, and every suitor should be interested. This is only the perfection of the new character in which he was now speaking. He also lets Philemon know that his compliance would be obedience. This was but the integrity of a suitor to a Christian like Philemon. Paul’s skill or art in plying his reasons would have been but cunning had it not been accompanied by such integrity as this. I may, therefore, say his way as a suitor is beautiful.

And then, to the end, we listen to the words of a brother—the breathings of one who knew the grace that was in a fellow-disciple, and with confidence could count upon it and use it. “But withal,” says he, “prepare me also a lodging, for I trust that through your prayers I shall be given unto you.” Here it is Philemon’s love in the Spirit that he reckons upon, as before it had been his rights in the world he was acknowledging.

Surely, there is something excellent in all this. And one other thought on the whole epistle I would suggest s that Paul, the prisoner, in no measure grudges Philemon, the master, his comforts and possessions and liberty. No. What he had in Christ was too paramount in his heart—too commanding and occupying there—to leave room for such a feeling. But it is blessed to see this. Nay, he knew the dignity of suffering for Christ. To him it was “given in the behalf of Christ not only to believe on Him, but to suffer for His sake.”

The Lamp and the Ticket

There is something solemn and suggestive in seeing the guard of a train enter your carriage at night for the purpose of examining the passengers’ tickets. He has in his hand a very brilliant lamp, which he brings to bear upon each ticket, in order that nothing false may escape him. His object is not to examine the countenance, the dress, or the luggage, but, simply, the ticket. The appearance and circumstances of passengers may differ widely; but the object of the guard is to examine into the genuineness of the title on which each one holds his seat in the carriage. To this one point he directs his attention; on this he concentrates all the light which his well-polished reflector can throw out. This is very solemn and very suggestive to a thoughtful mind.

If it should happen that some impostor, someone without a ticket, or someone with a spurious ticket, has found his way into the carriage, such an one will, assuredly, dread the approach of the brilliant lamp, he will seek to avoid its concentrated beams. He will seek to skulk into a corner, or hide under a seat, or in some way or another, shirk its dreaded scrutiny. But in vain. That penetrating light illuminates every corner, makes everything manifest, detects every impostor.

On the other hand, the honest man who holds in his hand a genuine ticket, shrinks not from the light, yea, he rather courts it, and delights in its brilliance, inasmuch as, the brighter it is, the more fully and speedily it makes manifest his unquestionable title to be where he is. “For every one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved. But he that doeth truth cometh to the light, that his deeds may he made manifest, that they are wrought in God.” (John 3:20, 21.) A false title cannot stand the light; but a true one is thereby made manifest.

The application of this is, at once, plain and instructive. We must possess a title so divinely clear and genuine that it will stand the strictest scrutiny of “the light.” All must be brought to that light, sooner or later. The lamp of God must shine on every one’s title; and when our title is sure, we delight in having it, examined. If we are building on our efforts after righteousness, or our struggles after holiness; upon our strivings, our doings, or our feelings; upon ordinances, upon creeds, or upon churches; if our title is furnished by any of these things, or by all of them put together, it will be proved to be spurious when that bright lamp of divine holiness is brought to bear upon it. No title can be admitted as genuine save that which is furnished by “the blood of the Lamb.” This is the, grand, the only, the all-sufficient title. Some build upon their morality, some upon their charity, some upon their religion, some upon their experience, some upon their appropriation, application or realization, some upon the remarkable circumstances of their conversion. None of these will do. We must get to the very end of all these things, and take Christ as our only title. As in the days of the flood, there was but one solitary object to be seen floating over the wild watery waste, and that object was the ark, the only place of safety; so, now, that this world is under judgment, the only place of safety is in Christ. It was not the ark and something else; but the ark alone. It is not Christ and something else; but Christ alone. If, in the most hidden corner of the heart, we are adding the weight of a feather to Christ, we must get rid of that feather, before we can taste of true gospel peace. We must turn the scale upside down, and empty out the very dust of our own righteousness, and put Christ and Christ alone in the place of all. Then shall we have peace—settled peace—profound peace—eternal peace—a peace which nothing can ever disturb.

Why is it so many complain of a lack of settled peace? Because they have not come to the end of self and the world and made Christ their all. Depend upon it, reader, this is the secret of the matter. Can Christ not give settled peace? To be sure He can, if He is trusted. But He is not trusted, so long as something else, no matter what, is added to Him. If a man has not settled peace, it is because he has not accepted Christ alone as his peace, for assuredly Christ is a settled peace to all who really have Him. It is easy to profess to have Him, and, at the same time, to have fifty things as well. How can there be settled peace when this is the case? Impossible. As well might Noah have expected to be safe with one foot on the ark and the other on some floating carcass.

And, be it well remembered, it is heart-work we are speaking of. It is not head-work, or lip-work, creed-work, or sect-work. It is to have Christ in the heart, and naught in the heart but Christ. This is the true title-this, the true rest. To all who have this title, this rest, “there is not a cloud above, not a spot within,” There are no fears, no doubts, no misgivings, no inward shrinkings, no hidden anxieties, no vague hopes, no shadowy expectations. All is as sure and solid as Christ Himself. Heart and flesh may fail; earth and all its belongings may pass away; but Christ is a rock, and all who build on Him partake of His eternal stability.

Reader, what say you, now, to these things? Are you ready to have your ticket examined by the light of the lamp? Is your ticket genuine? Is your heart—your inmost heart—deeply and thoroughly assured that all is well? Have you a single misgiving as to your personal safety? Be honest. Get the matter settled, now. If you have so much as a single doubt, it is because you are not wholly done with self and occupied with Christ. Take Christ as your whole, your only title, and, then, you will enjoy perfect repose. Hundreds fail in this. They learn their lesson superficially. They get a partial view of their own ruin, and a partial view of Christ. They are, then, propped up, sustained, and carried forward, by ordinances, meetings, religiousness, Christian friends, active employment— all good enough things in their right place; but when some crisis comes, heavy illness or the near approach of death, the soul is filled with horror. It finds itself in deep waters, where the floods overflow it; in a region of cloudiness and gloom, where neither sun nor stars appear. Then, at last, it is forced to lay hold on Christ, in reality, as its whole salvation, and unutterable peace is the result.

Hence, the importance of beginning right—of “digging deep,” and finding “the Rock.” Many christians make a goal of the starting post, and, as a consequence, they are superficial and fluctuating all their journey through. Occasional gleams of sunshine, it may be, break through their ordinary gloom. While reading a good gospel tract, or hearkening to a good gospel sermon, they are lifted up and think

“They can read their title clear

To mansions in the skies.”

But, ere long, they experience the heavings and tossings of indwelling sin, and begin to doubt if they were ever really converted at all; they think they have been deceiving themselves all along, and that hell will be their portion, at the end. All this is the result of not getting thoroughly done with self, and making Christ their Alpha and their Omega in everything. Yes; it must be in everything. It is not in one thing, or two things, or three things; but in everything. It is not at this stage, or the other stage, but all the journey through. Christ must be ALL—self NOTHING. Let this lesson be thoroughly learned, and, then my reader will be able to understand and appreciate the familiar, yet solemn and suggestive illustration of “the lamp and the ticket.”

The Two Appearings

(Heb. 9:26-28.)

The blessed object of the Saviour’s first appearing in our world, is here distinctly stated. “But now once in the end of the world hath he appeared, to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself.” He who had long been shadowed forth by Jewish sacrifices, appeared, in due time, Himself, to accomplish that which was impossible for them to do, namely, to make a full end of sin. The passage is most definite. It is the statement of Christ’s own perfect work, for the sinner, on the cross. The sinless one died for sinners. Oh! what love, grace, and goodness! “God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” (Rom. 5:8.) To these glad tidings, faith’s answer is, “That’s me, that’s just what I am—a sinner. But God loves me—a sinner—Christ died for me—a sinner. God’s word says it, I believe it; then, oh! then, I am saved—saved through death, and happy in God’s redeeming love.” Surely this is not presumption. Oh, no! Being included in the condemnation, “all have sinned,” I am entitled to the work of grace for sinners. Hence, in place of it being presumption! it is God-honoring, Christ-exalting, soul-saving faith.

Many, at this moment, amidst the general awakening in many places, are passing through deep distress of soul about their sins. When the soul has been led to see the hatefulness of sin, in the light, and by the quickening power of God’s Spirit, it then, for the first time, gets a taste of its bitterness. It is a terrible thing to be searched by the candle of the Lord, and at the same time, to be in darkness as to the rich provisions of grace for all its need. Several cases of this kind we have lately witnessed. But, oh! who could describe the agony of a soul in this state, especially when accompanied by the stinging anguish of self-reproach. The piteous cries of such sound long in one’s ears. Oh! what an evil and malignant thing sin is.

Should this paper fall into the hands of any one who is distressed about their soul’s eternal welfare, and anxiously inquiring, “Oh! how shall I get rid of sin?” We can only reply, dear reader, that the text before us, and others of a similar nature, furnish the true answer to this important question. Christ put away sin, for us, on the cross, by the sacrifice of Himself. It was got rid of there for us, by Him, when He shed His precious blood, and we are forgiven through faith in that blood. “To him give all the prophets witness, that through his name whosoever believeth in Him shall receive remission of sins.” (Acts 10:43.) The moment you have faith in Christ, as the Saviour, you are forgiven. “We have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of His grace.” (Eph. 1:7.) This is true now, at this present time, of all them that believe.

The light of God having broken in upon your once benighted soul, you now see the sin for which the blessed Jesus died, and which He put away on Calvary. You are actually groaning beneath the burden of that which has no place in the sight of God; Christ, by His one perfect sacrifice, having put it all and forever away. “For by one offering he hath perfected forever them that are sanctified.” On the ground of this one offering, God says of believers, “their sins and iniquities will I remember no more.” (Heb. 10:14, 17.) Sin is a forgiven and a forgotten thing in the case of all who trust in Jesus. True, as children, the Father deals with them, and chastens them about their sins; but they can never be judged as sinners, Christ having been judged for them. Sin could only be got rid of by death; and the blessed Jesus, in the greatness of His love, died the sinner’s death, and thereby made a full end of his sin. This makes the matter quite plain as to how sin was completely abolished. It was by the work of Christ alone—by the sacrifice of Himself. “When he had by himself purged our sins, he sat down on the right hand of the majesty on high.” (Heb. 1-3.) Christ risen from the dead and gone up on high, is the eternal witness, that sin, and sins, root and branch, have been put away, according to the demands of the glory of God, and the entire need of the sinner. This is God’s answer to the question, and ought to satisfy every conscience, as to how sin is to be got rid of. It is done! Believe it, and let your heart be surrendered to Jesus, in love, gratitude, and praise, forever.

And now, observe, the only way for a sin-burdened soul to get relief, is through faith in the work of Christ for us. There is now, blessed be God, a work of grace in you. But the only “true ground of peace,” is the work of Christ, on the cross, for you. It is also the only ground of the work of grace in us, for how could the Spirit work in us, had not Christ died for us? The only ground of the Spirit’s work in us, is the work of Christ for us. Still, it is only through believing, that the conscience finds rest and relief—through believing what Christ is to us, and what He has done for us. Nothing but the work of Christ, will ever satisfy the conscience in the presence of God about sin. If the soul should slip into something like relief or rest, on any other ground, it will not be lasting. Its sorrows may return, and be deeper than ever, because, in such a case, it may accuse itself of hypocrisy.

But although Christ has appeared, and appeared as the putter-away of sin—as the accomplisher of the great work of grace and love for man—nevertheless, man is not forgiven, he is not saved, until he believes in the Lord himself, and has faith in His finished work. The blood of Christ is the only remedy for sin. If that remedy be neglected, the two dark clouds of death and judgment bang frowning over the sinner’s head. “It is appointed unto men once to die, and after that the judgment.” Awful indeed will be the doom of those, on whom they burst forth in their unmitigated fury, and hurl into endless woe. He who rejects the sacrifice mentioned in the 26th verse, falls back, as a matter of course, on the original appointment in the 27th verse. “The wages of sin is death,” but after that the judgment. Should death come to the sinner, before he comes to the Saviour, a still more awful death awaits him, called “the second death,” or, eternal banishment from the presence of the living God, in the gulf of hopeless despair. But, oh! how changed and different everything is to the man of faith. He is associated with Christ, who has passed through death and judgment for him. He stands with Him on the rock of resurrection, in the power of resurrection-life. Death and judgment are behind him. In Christ, he has passed from death unto life. Nothing now fills the prospect to faith, but Christ Himself, and coming glory. “Unto them that look for him shall he appear the second time, without sin unto salvation.”

Mark the expression, dear reader, in this verse, “them that look for him.” Does not this passage clearly teach us, that the true and proper position of the Christian, is to be looking for the Lord Himself. Not, certainly, for natural death, or for any other predicted event that is coming upon the earth. True, death may come before the Lord, but we are not to be looking for it. Christ Himself is our “blessed hope.” “We should allow nothing to come between the heart and Him. Then mark the happy assurance which the word here gives to the heart, “And unto them that look for him shall he appear.” They will not be disappointed. He will certainly come for them, whether they are sleeping or waking, and He will appear with them. “I will come again, and receive you unto myself, so that where I am, there ye may be also.” (John 14) Again, “When Christ who is our life, shall appear, then shall ye also appear with him in glory.” (Col. 3:4.) His first appearing was in lowly grace, as the obedient servant, the doer of His Father’s will, and the accomplisher of the great work of redemption. His second appearing will be in divine majesty, and brightest glory, and all His saints with Him. Then, He will have nothing to say to sin, having made an end of it at His first appearing.

The Spirit of God here contrasts the future prospects of the man of the world, and the man of faith. The former, alas! has nothing to look forward to but death and judgment; the latter is waiting for the full salvation of God. To which of those two classes does my dear reader belong? the world or Christ? Oh! solemn, solemn question! Let it have your immediate-your undivided attention. If a single doubt clouds your mind, rest not until it is removed. Be sure that you belong, by faith, to Jesus. Are you really resting on His finished—His accepted work? Be not misled by mere appearance. So far as present appearances go, the difference between the two classes may be very little. They may live in the same house, sit at the same table, and often converse happily together on the same subjects. But notwithstanding all that, there is, in reality, a wide difference between them—a difference as wide as heaven and earth. And were the Lord to come while that difference exists, it would be widened to infinity, and the separation would be eternal. The one would be caught up to Christ and glory, the other would fall beneath the crushing stroke of the terrible judgments that are coming on the earth, after the Church has been caught away. Overwhelming thought to the affectionate Christian now! And, oh! who can tell at what moment the Lord may come? His own word is, “Surely I come quickly.” Oh! that the thoughtless, careless one, may be led to think on these eternal realities, ere it be too late. Oh! that he may be led to embrace the blessed Saviour now. To come by faith to Jesus now. He is still saying, in love, to those who are outside, “Come unto me....I will give you rest;” “Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out.” Oh! then, flee at once to the arms of Jesus. Take refuge in Himself. Delay not: enter by the new and living way into the rest of God; you are welcome—welcome to the bosom of His love. He will rejoice over you with singing, and set you in His own presence, robed and jeweled according to the perfect love of His own heart, the infinite dignity of Christ, the eternal efficacy of His sacrifice, and the boundless glories of His grace.

“Stricken, smitten, and afflicted,”

See Him dying on the tree!

Tis the Christ by man rejected!

Yes, my soul, ‘tis He, tis He!

Mark the sacrifice appointed;

See who bears the awful load!

Tis the Word, the Lord’s Anointed,

Son of man, and Son of God.

Here we have a firm foundation;

Here’s the refuge of the lost;

Christ’s the rock of our salvation—

His the name of which we boast.

Lamb of God! for sinners, wounded,

Sacrifice to cancel guilt,

None shall ever be confounded

Who on thee their hope have built.

He From Within

(Luke 11:7.)

The word of God judges, with perfect accuracy, the human heart, and discloses all its most secret springs of thought and action. Indeed, this is one special way in which we may know that it is the word of God. The poor Samaritan woman could say, “Come, see a man that told me all things that ever I did: is not this the Christ?” She judged that a man that could lay bare before her the deep secrets of her heart and of her life, must needs be the long expected Messiah; and she judged rightly. In like manner, we may say, “Come, see a book that told me all things that ever I did: is not this the word of God?” No one can read the heart but God. No book can disclose the human heart but God’s book; wherefore, inasmuch as the Bible doth perfectly disclose the human heart, we may know, even had we no other mode of judging, that the Bible is the word of God.

Such an argument may be utterly contemned by an infidel, a skeptic, or a rationalist, who must, therefore, be met on other grounds; but it is impossible for any upright mind to ponder the simple fact that the Bible perfectly unfolds man’s very nature, his thoughts, his feelings, his desires, his affections, his imaginations, the most secret chambers of his moral being, and not be convinced that the Bible is nothing less than the very word of God, which is “ quick and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.” Heb. 4:12.

Nor is it, merely, in the word of God, as a whole, that we observe this intense power of “discerning the thoughts and intents of the heart,” but also in detached passages, in brief sentences, in a verse or clause of a verse. Look, for instance, at the three words which appear at the head of this article. What a revelation of the selfishness of the human heart do these words contain! What an expression of the narrow enclosure within which it retires! What a brief, pointed, pithy commentary upon man’s reluctance to be intruded upon, when he has made arrangements for his personal ease! Who can read them, and not see in them a perfect mirror in which the very pulsations of his own heart are reflected? We do not like to be intruded upon, when we have retired, from the scene around us, into the narrow circle of our personal or domestic enjoyment. When we have drawn the curtains, made ready the fire, opened the desk or the book, we do not like to have to respond to a call from without It is at such times, we can enter into the words, “He from within” They really contain a volume of profound moral truth. They graphically and vividly set forth an attitude of heart in which we are all far too frequently to be found. We are all too ready, when a call comes, to send forth our answer “ from within.” We are too prone to say, “Dear me! this is a most untoward moment for that person to call, just when I am so particularly engaged.” All this is precisely the attitude of heart set forth in the words—the selfish words, “He from within.”

And, let us inquire, what answer is sure to be returned from the one who speaks “from within?” Just what might be expected. “Trouble me not.” The man who has retired into the narrow circle of his own personal ease and enjoyment, closed his door, and drawn his curtains around him, does not like to be troubled” by any one. Such an one is sure to say, even though appealed to as a “friend,” “I cannot rise.” And why could he not “rise?” Because “the door was shut, and his children were with him in bed.” In a word, his reasons for not rising were all selfish, and when he did rise, it was only from a selfish desire to avoid further trouble. “Importunity” prevailed over a selfishness which was proof against the appeals of friendship.

How unlike all this was the blessed Lord Jesus Christ! His door was never shut. He never answered “from within.” He ever had a ready response to every needy applicant. He had not time to eat bread, or take rest, so occupied was He with human need. He could say, “I forget to eat my meat,” so entirely was He given up to the service of others. He never murmured on account of the ceaseless intrusion of needy humanity. He kept no record of all he had to do, nor did he ever complain of it. “He went about doing good.” “His meat and his drink were to do the will of him that sent him, and to finish his work.” To Him the poor and the needy, the heavy-laden and the heart-broken, the outcast and the wretched, the homeless and the stranger, the widow and the orphan, the diseased and the desolate, might all flock, in the full assurance of finding in Him a fountain ever flowing over, and sending forth, in all directions, the copious streams of living sympathy, toward every possible form of human need. The door of His heart was always wide open.. He never said to any son of want, or child of sorrow, “I cannot rise and give thee.” He was ready to “arise and go” with every needy applicant, and His gracious word ever was, “Give.”

Such was Jesus when down here; and He is still “the very same, whose glory fills all heaven above” His door stands open, so that the vilest, the guiltiest, and the neediest of sinners are welcome. They can have their crimson and scarlet sins washed away in His atoning blood. They can have pardon and peace, life and righteousness, heaven and its eternal weight of glory, all as the free gift of grace divine; and, while on their way from grace to glory, they can have all the love of His heart and the strength of His shoulder—that heart which told forth its deathless affection on the cross, and that shoulder which shall bear up the pillars of divine government forever.

And, now, Christian reader, suffer the word of exhortation. Remember that Christ is your life, and that Christianity is nothing less than the living exhibition of Christ in your daily walk. Christianity is not a set of opinions to be defended, or a set of ordinances to be observed. It is far more than these. It expresses itself thus, “To me to live is Christ.” This is Christianity. May we know and manifest its power! May we be more occupied with Him who is our life! Then we too shall keep the door of the heart open to the sorrows, the miseries, the wants, and the woes of fallen and suffering humanity. We shall be ready to “rise and give” to every case of real need. If we cannot give “three loaves” or the price of them, we shall, at least, give the look of love, the word of kindness, the tear of sympathy, the accents of fervent intercession; and, in no case, shall we suffer ourselves to get into the attitude of intense selfishness expressed in the words, “He from within.” “For ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that, though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, that ye through his poverty might be rich.”

Inside the Veil! Outside the Camp!

Thro’ thy precious body broken

“Inside the veil”

Oh, what words to sinners spoken

“Inside the veil!”

Precious as the blood that bought us,

Perfect as the love that sought us,

Holy as the Lamb that brought us,

“Inside the veil”

When we see thy love unshaken,

“Outside the camp!”

Scorned of man, by God forsaken,

“Outside the camp!”

Thy loved cross alone can charm us,

Shame doth now no more alarm us,

Glad we follow, naught can harm us,

“Outside the camp!”

“Unto thee,” the homeless stranger,

“Outside the camp!”

Forth we hasten, fear no danger,

“Outside the camp!”

Thy reproach far greater treasure,

Than all Egypt’s boasted pleasure,

Drawn, by love that knows no measure,

“Outside the camp!”

Soon thy saints shall all be gathered,

“Inside the veil!”

All at home, no more be scattered,

“Inside the veil!”

Naught from thee our hearts shall sever,

We shall see thee, grieve thee never,

“Praise the Lamb,” shall sound forever,.

“Inside the veil!”

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 for I do not attempt to expound this most touching and interesting epistle in detail. This would be 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. 1:5.) Secondly, “the sure foundation.” (chap. 2:19.) Thirdly, “the holy scriptures.” (chap. 3:15.) Fourthly, “the crown of righteousness.” (chap. 4:8.) The man who knows aught of the power of these things, is divinely provided for “perilous times.”

1. 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 so ever 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 up borne 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.

2. 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. 2:19.) In the midst of all the “trouble,” the “hardness,” the “striving about words,” the “profane and vain babblings,” the errors of “Hymenaeus and Philetus 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 engrave 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 everyone.” 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.”

3. 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. 3:14-17.) 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 scriptures”—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. 2:22.)

All this is plain, and has its due place and value; but 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.

4. 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. 4:6-8.) 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!

The Midnight Cry

Matt. 25:1-13.

There is something both striking and interesting, to the reflecting mind, in the general movement, at present amongst all classes of Christians. The change which has been wrought, throughout all Christendom, since 1807, is truly astonishing; but especially so, since the early part of 1859. All seem to be more or less aroused. The awakening from a previous sleepy, inactive state, is now very general.

In September, 1857, a City Missionary, was led, doubtless, by God’s Spirit, to commence, in Fulton Street, New York, a noon-day meeting for prayer. It soon became an interesting meeting, and led to many more of a similar character. A great and blessed Revival soon followed. Many thousands of precious souls have been brought, by faith, to Jesus, since then, and made happy in His “great salvation.” In the same month, of the same year, as if by concert, four young men, near Connor, county Antrim, in Ireland, were led, by the same blessed Spirit, to commence, what was termed “The Believers’ Fellowship Meeting.” This humble beginning, like the other, was much owned of God. “The power of prayer” was soon felt in the neighborhood, souls were converted, and the spirit of prayer so prevailed, that in the following year, 1858, prayer meetings were almost innumerable. There were known to be, in one district, on an average, sixteen meetings for prayer every night in the week. Thus the foundations of the great Revival, in the North of Ireland, were strengthening and deepening, through innumerable prayer meetings, for about eighteen months, before it burst forth to public view, and rose to such a glorious height in 1859. A similar, unpretending, humble agency was employed, by the same spirit of prayer, in beginning the work of Revival in Scotland.

But now, in 1860, has the spirit of prayer, or the effects of the Revival, passed away? Far from it. The Lord be praised! Let the second week in January answer. Such a week of prayer! The call from Lodiana was responded to by all parts of Christendom. Never, in the history of the Church, has there been such a week of prayer. And, from all that can be learned, the response was a hearty one. It was a week of real, earnest prayer to God, from every quarter of the globe, for abundant showers of blessing to fall on the Church, and on perishing souls. And, doubtless, an abundant answer has been, and still will be, graciously vouchsafed. Many are now rejoicing in the increased spirit of prayer which still abides, and in witnessing many taking their places, as the true priests of God, in His own house. O, that the work of God, in the uplifting of the hearts of His people, and in the salvation of precious souls, may abound, and increase, a thousand fold!

But what voice—what language—has the present universal movement in Christendom, to the ear of faith? Why all this stir? What has aroused from center to circumference, the professing Church—the once-slumbering and sleeping virgins? Have ministers at home, or missionaries abroad, done it? O, no! All have been taken by surprise, as if suddenly awakened out of sleep. The Master himself, who neither slumbers nor sleeps, has done it. Everything has been moving with Divine rapidity. The time is short. In the riches of His grace, He is sending forth, we verily believe, the solemn midnight cry, “BEHOLD THE BRIDEGROOM COMETH!” The effect of this cry on the slumbering virgins, is distinctly stated. “And at midnight there was a cry made, Behold the Bridegroom cometh; go ye out to meet Him. Then ALL those virgins arose, and trimmed their lamps.” Both wise and foolish are, unexpectedly, awakened by the midnight cry, and turn out.

The “ten virgins” represent professing Christians, in their individual responsibility to Christ, during His absence. They all, professedly, take a position of moral separation from the world, and go out from it, to meet the Bridegroom —to wait, with lighted lamps, for His promised return, and light Him to His house. “They are not of the world,” says Christ, “even as I am not of the world.” (John 17) Their measure of separation is His own. And that, we know, is by death, resurrection, and ascension. This is the believer’s true position, and the virgins profess to take it. “Then shall the kingdom of heaven be likened unto ten virgins, which took their lamps, and went forth to meet the bridegroom.” This, we find, from the epistles, was actually the case in the days of the apostles.

In almost every epistle, and in every chapter of some epistles, we have the most plain and pointed references to the coming of the Lord as the true hope of the Church. The apostle Paul so fully realized this blessed truth, in his own soul, that he repeatedly speaks of it, as if it would take place in his own life-time. Morally, it was near to him, because dear to his heart. Take a few passages, as a sample of numbers that might be given. “Then we, which are alive and remain, shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air, and so shall we ever be with the Lord.” “For they themselves show of us what manner of entering in we had unto you, and how ye turned to God from idols, to serve the living and true God; and to wait for his Son from heaven, whom he raised from the dead, even Jesus, which delivered us from the wrath to come.” “So that ye come behind in no gift; waiting for the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.” “Now we beseech you, brethren, by the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, and by our gathering together unto him.” “And the Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him that heareth say, Come.......He which testifieth these things saith, Surely I come quickly. Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus.” (1 Thess. 1:4; 1 Cor. 1:7; 2 Thess. 2:1; Rev. 22) In this last quoted passage, we are taught, that whenever the sinner has heard the life-giving word of Jesus, he is entitled to say, Come. “And let him that heareth say, Come.” This is the blessed privilege of every newly converted soul.

Thus, we learn, that the “wise virgins”—the faithful followers of the Lamb, were characterized in the early days of the Church, by coming out from the world, in heart and spirit, and really looking for their Lord’s return. But He tarries, and they all slumber and sleep. The whole professing Church falls into this state: the “wise” as well as the “foolish.” The truth of the Bridegroom’s coming is lost sight of. Historically, we know, all this has taken place. But the midnight cry is again raised, which announces the near approach of the Bridegroom, and awakens the drowsy virgins. Still, although near at hand, in adorable grace, He yet lingers, and allows some time to elapse between the awakening cry and His arrival. Oh, precious, momentous hour! The eternal destiny of millions hangs upon it! Every moment is more precious than the gold of Ophir, and all rubies! And, oh, dear reader, is not the present that deeply solemn time? Is not the universal cry, Awake, awake! Arise, arise! Unite, unite! Put on strength! Put on activity! the deeply solemn midnight cry of “Behold the Bridegroom cometh; go ye out to meet him.” It is sounding aloud, both near home, and afar off. It is heard and re-echoed throughout all lands.

While the Bridegroom thus delays, the real condition of the virgins is made manifest. “Then all those virgins arose, and trimmed their lamps. And the foolish said unto the wise, “Give us of your oil, for our lamps are gone out.” The bright beams of divine Christianity, and the false light of human religiousness, are proved to be widely different things, when the Master’s footsteps are heard. The “wise,” though they had been taking their ease, have oil in their vessels, so that their lamps are soon trimmed and burn brightly. Only those who had lighted lamps could join the Bridegroom, and accompany Him to His house. The light of the Spirit and companionship with Jesus, are the true features of the faithful. But “the foolish” have no oil in their vessels. They lack the very thing that is needed, namely, a personal knowledge of Christ-personal faith in Him, and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. There is sad ignorance of Christ Himself. Hence they apply to those for oil with whom they have been keeping company. “Give us of your oil,” they say, “for our lamps are gone out.” This the wise could not do, but they direct them to the fountain. Many, very many, blessed be God, have been awakened, since the general arising, not merely to the interest of the movement, but to a deep sense of their own need as sinners. Their first appeal may be to those around them, in whom they have confidence, “give us of your oil.” “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?” The faithful, with joyful hearts, and ready lips, will direct them to the living, overflowing fountain of water. The most devoted evangelist cannot communicate, to the objects of his burning zeal, the grace he has himself received. But he can point them, in a fervent manner, to the heart of God, the native fountain of saving grace, which is free to all. A Christian parent may bend over a graceless child, in the most earnest, entreating manner— he may pray over him—weep over him—but he cannot communicate to his beloved child, one particle of the grace that fills and overflows his own heart. His confidence must be in God alone for the communication of living grace. He only can give life.

But, oh! my dear reader, there is One, to the heights of whose love, no parents can ever rise. One, whose love is infinite—whose grace is boundless—whose tender sympathies are a refuge for the troubled soul—whose heart is the hiding place of all who flee to Him. This One-this peerless, matchless, “only One,” says, in sweetest grace, to all, and to every weary, thirsty soul, “He, every one that come ye, buy, and eat; yea, come, buy wine and milk, without money and without price.” “If any man thirst, let him come unto me and drink.” (Isa. 4:1; John 7:37.) Mark the freeness of the invitation— “every one,” “any man.” It is as wide as the human family— “every one,” “any man.” Blessed grace! And then mark the One to whom the thirsty sinner is invited to come: “Come unto ME,” the blessed Jesus, in whom all fullness dwells. God has sounded the deepest depths of the sinner’s need, and met it all in Christ. “It pleased the Father that in him should all fullness dwell.” All our need is met in Jesus: only believe it, and you must be perfectly and forever satisfied. This is what we are invited to do. “Come unto me, and drink.” Drink freely, drink deeply, drink abundantly. Drink in the truth of the Saviour’s love—His grace—His finished work for sinners—His resurrection from the dead—His glory at the right hand of God—and His coming again to receive us unto Himself. Drink in, also, the blessed truth of the forgiveness of all your sins, through faith in Jesus, your complete justification, and acceptance in the Beloved. Oh, what a full fountain to drink at!

But may any sinner venture, someone may ask, to drink of these living waters? Surely! most surely! “Every one,” “any man,” are the Saviour’s own words. And again, He repeats, “I will give to him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely.” (Rev. 21:6.) He is patiently waiting that you may come to Himself. “The long-suffering of our Lord is salvation.” Oh! then come! Come at once! Come as you are! Come to Jesus, that you may be filled with the holy oil of His Spirit, and be ready to welcome Him at His coming. Oh! it is the heart of Christ we want you to know, and not the mere forms of Christianity— the heart that entreats you to be blessed with His blessedness—to be made happy with His happiness—and to share His bright millennial glory.

Nothing short of this, Ο foolish virgin, Ο careless sinner, will make you ready to join the Bridegroom, and enter with Him into the joys of the wedding feast. Oh! be not careless—do not delay—trifle no longer! The coming of the Lord draweth nigh, and you are still unpardoned— unsaved. There is the sound of judgment in the warning midnight cry. It will indeed be a time of judgment, for all who have rejected the Saviour, or only in name professed to receive Him. It will be a day of darkness and gloominess, a day of clouds and thick darkness. Oh! can you still remain at ease in your sins, as if there were no sin-avenging Judge! Oh! be warned. “Approaching judgments” are no fables, the “iron rod” is no fable—the mouth of hell is no fable—the worm that dieth not is no fable! Ο foolish virgins—Ο formal professors, can you slumber on when the midnight cry is sounding in your ears! “Behold the judge standeth before the door.’’ (Jas. 5) Oh! rebel sinner, against earth’s mighty King, does the sound of coming judgment cause thee no alarm? Canst thou hear of it without a pang—without a shudder? and just go on in thy sins, and with thy pleasures, as if a day of reckoning would never come? Beware, oh, beware! How awful will be the shudder should hell open at thy feet, gaping for thy guilty soul, and thy piercing wail reach no ear of mercy. But now—just now, glory be to God, there is grace for thee. The rich favors of the King may yet be thine, if thou wilt only turn to Him, even at the eleventh hour. Oh! then, at once, with all thy heart turn to Him in faith. Believe God’s word, drop every weapon of thy rebellion, fall at His feet, let Him hear thy cry for mercy; drink no longer at the world’s broken cisterns, but drink at the living fountain of waters, which proceedeth “out of the throne of God and of the Lamb.” So shall thy vessel be filled with fresh oil, and thou shalt be ready at any moment, with lighted lamp and girded loins, to welcome the stately steps of the Bridegroom, join the happy train, and enter into “the joy of thy Lord.”

The Morning Cry

Hark! ‘tis the Watchman’s cry—

“Wake, brethren, wake!”

Jesus, Himself, is nigh,

Wake, brethren, wake!

Sleep is for sons of night;

Ye are children of the light;

Yours is the glory bright;

Wake, brethren, wake!

Call to each wak’ning band,

Watch, brethren, watch!

Clear is our Lord’s command,

Watch, brethren, watch!

Be ye as men that wait

Always at their Master’s gate,

E’en though he tarry late,

Watch, brethren, watch!

Heed we the Steward’s call,

Work, brethren, work!

There’s room enough for all;

Work, brethren, work!

This vineyard of the Lord,

Constant labor will afford,

He will your work reward,

Work, brethren, work!

Hear we the Shepherd’s voice,

Pray, brethren, pray!

Would ye His heart rejoice,

Pray, brethren, pray!

Sin calls for ceaseless fear,

Weakness needs the strong One near.

Long as ye struggle here,

Pray, brethren, pray!

Sound now the final chord,

Praise, brethren, praise!

Thrice holy is the Lord;

Praise, brethren, praise!

What more befits the tongues,

Soon to lead the angels’ songs,

Whilst heaven the note prolongs?

Praise, brethren, praise.

Christ and His Yoke

“Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

In this precious and well-known passage we have two points which are very distinct, and yet intimately connected, namely, Christ and His yoke. We have, first, coming to Christ, and its results; and secondly, taking His yoke, and its results. “Come unto me, and I will give you rest.” “Take my yoke, and ye shall find rest.” These things, being distinct, should never be confounded; and, being intimately connected, should never be separated. To confound them, is to dim the luster of divine grace; to separate them, is to infringe upon the claims of divine holiness. Both these evils should be carefully guarded against.

Many there are who hold up before the eye of the “heavy laden” sinner, the yoke of Christ as something which he must “take on” ere his burdened heart can taste of that blessed rest which Christ “gives” to “all” who simply “come unto him,” just as they are. The passage before us does not teach this. It puts Christ first, and His yoke afterward. It does not hide Christ behind His yoke, but rather places Him, in all His attractive grace, before the heart, as the One who can meet every need, remove every weight, hush every guilty fear, fill up every blank, satisfy every longing desire; in a word, who is able to do as He says He will, even to-”“give rest” There are no conditions proposed, no demands made, no barriers erected. The simple, touching, melting, subduing, inviting, winning word is, “Come” It is not, “Go;” “Do;” “Give;” “Bring;” “Feel;” “Realize.” No it is, “Come.” And how are we to “Come?” Just as we are. To whom are we to “Come?” To Jesus. When are we to “Come?” “Now.”

Observe, then, we are to come just as we are. We are not to wait for the purpose of altering a single jot or tittle of our state, condition, or character. To do this, would he to “come” to some alteration or improvement in ourselves; whereas Christ distinctly and emphatically says, “Come unto me.” Many souls err on this point. They think they must amend their ways, alter their course, or improve their moral condition, ere they come to Christ; whereas, in point of fact, until they really do come to Christ they cannot amend, or alter, or improve anything. There is no warrant whatever for anyone to believe that he will be a single whit better, an hour, a day, a month, or a year hence, than he is this moment. And even were he better, he would not, on that account, be a whit more welcome to Christ than he is now. There is no such thing as an offer of salvation, tomorrow. The word is, “Today, if ye will hear his voice, harden not your hearts.” (Heb. 3:15.) “Behold now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.” 2 Cor. 6:2.

There is nothing more certain than that all who have ever tried the self-improvement plan have found it an utter failure. They have begun in darkness, continued in misery, and ended in despair. And yet, strange to say, in view of the numberless beacons which are ranged before us, in terrible array, to warn us of the folly and danger of traveling that road, we are sure, at the first, to adopt it. In some way or another, self is looked to, and wrought upon in order to procure a warrant to come to Christ. “They, being ignorant of God’s righteousness, and going about to establish their own righteousness, have not submitted themselves unto the righteousness of God.” (Rom. 10:3.) Nothing can possibly be a more dreary, depressing, hopeless task, than “going about to establish one’s own righteousness.” Indeed, the dreariness of the task must ever be commensurate with the earnestness and sincerity of the soul that undertakes it. Such an one will, assuredly, have, sooner or later, to give utterance to the cry, “Ο wretched man that I am! and also to ask the question, “Who shall deliver me?” (Rom. 7:21.) There can be no exception. All with whom the Spirit of God has ever wrought, have, in one way or another, been constrained to own the hopelessness of seeking to work out a righteousness for themselves. Christ must be all; self, nothing. This doctrine is easily stated; but oh, the experience!

The same is true, in reference to the grand reality of sanctification. Many who have come to Christ for righteousness have not practically and experimentally laid hold of Him as their sanctification. Whereas He is made of God, unto us, the one as well as the other. “But of him are ye in Christ Jesus, who of God is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification and redemption: that” —how deeply important, how cogent the reason! “according as it is written, He that glorieth, let him glory in the Lord.” (Cor. 1:30, 31.) The believer is just as powerless in the work of sanctification as in the work of righteousness. If it were not so, some flesh might glory in the divine presence. I could no more subdue a single lust, or trample underfoot a single passion, or gain the mastery over a single temper, than I could open the kingdom of heaven, or establish my own righteousness before God. This is not sufficiently understood; and hence it is that many true Christians constantly suffer the most humiliating defeats in their practical career. They know that Christ is their righteousness, that their sins are forgiven, that they are children of God; but, then, they are sorely put about by their constant failure in personal holiness, in practical sanctification. Again and again, they enter the lists with some unhallowed desire or unsanctified temper; and, again and again, they are compelled to retire with shame and confusion of face. A person or a circumstance crossed their path yesterday, and caused them to lose their temper, and, having to meet the same today, they resolve to do better; but, alas! they are again forced to retreat in disappointment and humiliation.

Now, it is not that such persons may not pray earnestly for the grace of the Holy Spirit to enable them to conquer both themselves and the influences which surround them. This is not the point. They have not yet learned practically, and, oh! how worthless the mere theory! that they are as completely “without strength” in the matter of “sanctification” as they are in the matter of “righteousness,” and, that as regards both the one and the other, Christ must be all; self, nothing. In a word, they have not yet entered into the meaning of the words, “Come unto me, and I will give you rest.” Here lies the source of their failure. They are as thoroughly powerless in the most trivial matter connected with practical sanctification, as they are in the entire question of their standing before God; and they must be brought to believe this, ere they can know the fullness of the “rest” which Christ gives. It is impossible that I can enjoy rest amid incessant defeats in my practical, daily life.

True, I can come, over and over again, and pour into my Heavenly Father’s ear the humiliating tale of my failure and overthrow. I can confess my sins and find Him ever “faithful and just to forgive me my sins, and to cleanse me from all unrighteousness.” (1 John 1:9.) But, then, we must learn Christ as the Lord our sanctification, as well as “The Lord our righteousness;” and, moreover, it is by faith and not by effort, we are to enter into both the one and the other. We look to Christ for righteousness, because we have none of our own; and we look to Christ for practical sanctification, because we have none of our own. It needed no personal effort on our part to get righteousness, because Christ is our righteousness; and it needs no personal effort on our part to get sanctification, because Christ is our sanctification.

It seems strange that, while the inspired apostle distinctly tells us that Christ is “made of God unto us wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption,” we, nevertheless, should attach the idea of personal effort to one out of the four things which he enumerates. Can we guide ourselves in the ten thousand difficulties and details of our Christian course by our own wisdom or sagacity? Surely not. Ought we to make an effort? By no means. Why not? Because God has made Christ to be our “wisdom,” and therefore it is our precious privilege, having been brought to our “wits’ end,” to look to Christ for wisdom. In other words, when Christ says, “Come unto me,” He means that we are to come unto Him for wisdom as well as for all else; and, clearly, we cannot come to Christ, and to our own efforts, at the same time. Nay, so long as we are making efforts, we must be strangers to “rest.”

The same holds good with respect to righteousness. Can we work out a righteousness for ourselves? Surely not. Ought we not to make an effort? By no means. Why not? Because God has made Christ to be unto us “righteousness,” and that righteousness is “to him that worketh not.” Rom. 4:5.

So also in the matter of “redemption,” which is put last in 1 Cor. 1:30, because it includes the final deliverance of the body of the believer from under the power of death. Could we, by personal effort, deliver our bodies from the dominion of mortality? Surely not. Ought we not to try? The thought was monstrous, yea impious. Why? Because God has made Christ to be unto us “redemption,” as regards both soul and body, and He who has already applied, by the power of His Spirit, that glorious redemption to our souls, will, ere long, apply it to our bodies.

Why, then, let me ask, should “sanctification” be singled out from the precious category, and saddled with the legal and depressing idea of personal effort? If we cannot by our own efforts, get “wisdom, righteousness, and redemption,” are we a whit more likely to succeed in getting “sanctification?” Clearly not. And have we not proved this, times without number? Have not our closet walls witnessed our tears and groans evoked by the painful sense of failure after failure in our own efforts to tread with steady step and erect carriage, the lofty walks of personal sanctity? Will the reader deny this? I trust not. I would fain hope he has responded to the call of Jesus, “Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” It is vain to “labor” in our own strength, after sanctification. We must come to Jesus for that as well as for everything else. And, having come to Jesus, we shall find that there is no lust which He cannot slay, no temper that He cannot subdue, no passion that He cannot overcome. The self-same hand that has canceled our sins, that guides us in our difficulties, and that will, by and by, deliver our bodies from the power of death, can give us complete victory over all our personal infirmities and besetments, and fill our hearts with His sacred rest.

It is, I believe, immensely important to have a clear understanding of the question of sanctification. Hundreds have gone on “laboring and heavy laden” for years, endeavoring to work out in one way or another, their sanctification; and, not having succeeded to their satisfaction—for whoever did, or ever could? —they have been tempted to question if they were ever converted at all. Many, were they to tell out “all the truth,” could adopt as their own, the mournful lines of the poet,

“‘Tis a point I long to know,

Oft it causeth anxious thought,

Do I love the Lord or no?

Am I His or am I not?”

Such persons have clear views of gospel truth. They could, with scriptural accuracy, tell an inquirer after righteousness how, where, and when he could get it. And yet, if that self-same inquirer were to ask them, about their own real state of heart before God, they could give but a sorry answer. Why is this? Simply because they have not laid hold of Christ as their sanctification, as well as their righteousness. They have been endeavoring, partly in their own strength, and partly by praying for the influences of the Holy Spirit, to stumble along the path of sanctification. They would, doubtless, deem a person very ignorant of what is called “the plan of salvation,” if they found him “going about to establish his own righteousness but they do not see that they themselves exhibit, in another way, ignorance of that “plan” by going about to establish their own sanctification. And truly if, in the one case, it is a sorry righteousness which is wrought out, so, in the other case, it is a lame sanctification. For if it be true that “all our righteousnesses are as filthy rags,” it is equally true that all our sanctifications are as filthy rags. Whatever has the word “our” attached to it must be altogether imperfect. Christ is God’s righteousness, and Christ is God’s sanctification. Both the one and the other are to be had by simply coming, looking, clinging, trusting to Christ. I need hardly say, it is by the power of the Spirit, and through the Holy Scriptures that Christ is applied to us, both as our righteousness and oar sanctification. But all this only takes the matter more and more out of our hands, and leaves us nothing to glory in. If we could conquer an evil temper, we might indeed think ourselves clever; but as we are not asked to pick up a feather in order to add to our righteousness, or our wisdom, or our redemption, so neither are we asked to pick up a feather in order to add to our sanctification. In this, as in those, Christ is all: self, nothing. This doctrine is easily stated; but oh, the experience!

And, now, will anyone say that the writer of this article is doing away with sanctification? If so, he may just as well say that he is doing away with “righteousness,” “wisdom” or “redemption.” Who will contend for self-righteousness, self-wisdom or self-redemption? Who but the man that contends for self-sanctification? Who is likely to attain and exhibit the more elevated standard of personal sanctity? Is it the man who is perpetually floundering amid his own imperfect struggles and cobweb-resolutions, or he who is daily, hourly, and momentarily clinging to Christ as his sanctification? The answer is simple. The sanctification which we get in Christ is as perfect as the righteousness, the wisdom, and the redemption. Am I doing away with “wisdom,” because I say I am foolish? Am I doing away with “righteousness,” because I say, I am guilty? Am I doing away with “redemption,” because I say, I am mortal? Am I doing away with “sanctification,” because I say, I am vile? Yes, I am doing away with all these things so far as “I” am concerned, in order that I may find them all in Christ. This is the point. All—all in Christ!

Oh! when shall we learn to get to the end of self, and cling simply to Christ? When shall we enter into the depth and power of those words “Come unto me?” He does not say, “come unto my yoke.” No; but, “come unto me.” We must cease from our own works, in every shape and form, and come to Christ, —come, just as we are—come, now. We come to Christ and get rest from and in Him before ever we hear a word about the “yoke.” To put the yoke first is to displace everything. If a “heavy laden” sinner thinks of the yoke, he must be overwhelmed by the thought of his own total inability to take it upon him or carry it. But when he comes to Jesus and enters into His precious rest, he finds the “yoke is easy and the burden light.”

2. This conducts us to the second point in our subject, namely, “the yoke.” It has been already observed that we must keep the two things distinct. To confound them, is to tarnish the heavenly luster of the grace of Christ, and to put a yoke upon the sinner’s neck and a burden upon his shoulder which he, as being “without strength,” is wholly unable to bear. But, then, they are morally connected. All who come to Christ, must take His yoke upon them and learn of Him, if they would “find rest unto their souls “To come to Christ is one thing; to walk with Him, or learn of Him, is quite another. Christ was “meek and lowly in heart.” He could meet the most adverse and discouraging circumstances with an “even so, Father.” The Baptist’s heart might fail amid the heavy clouds which gathered around him in Herod’s dungeon; the men of that generation might refuse the double testimony of righteousness and grace, as furnished by the ministry of John and of our Lord Himself; Bethsaida, Chorazin, and Capernaum might refuse the testimony of His mighty works-a torrent of evidence which one might suppose would sweep away every opposing barrier; all these things, and many more might cross the path of the Divine Workman; but, being “meek and lowly in heart,” He could say, “I thank thee, Ο Father—even so, Father, for so it seemed good in thy sight.” His “rest” in the Father’s counsels was profound and perfect; and He invites us to take His yoke, to learn of Him, to drink into His spirit, to know the practical results of a subject mind, that so we may find rest unto our souls.” A broken will is the real ground of the rest which we are to “find,” after we have come to Christ. If God wills one thing, and we will another, we cannot find rest in that. It matters not what the scene or circumstance may be. We may swell a list of things, to any imaginable extent, in which our will may run counter to the will of God; but, in whatever it is, we cannot find rest so long as our will is unbroken. We must get to the end of self in the matter of will, as well as in the matter of “wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, or redemption,” else we shall not “find rest.”

This, my beloved reader, is deep, real, earnest, personal work. Moreover, it is a daily thing. It is a continual taking of Christ’s yoke upon us, and learning of Him. It is not that we take the yoke in order to come to Christ. No; but we come to Christ first, and then, when His love fills and satisfies our souls, when His rest refreshes our spirits, when we can gaze, by faith, upon His gracious countenance, and see Him stooping down to confer upon us the high and holy privilege of wearing His yoke and learning His lesson, we find that His yoke is indeed easy, and His burden light. Unsubdued, unjudged, unmortified nature could never wear that yoke or bear that burden. The first thing is, “Come unto me, and I will give you rest.” The second thing is, “Take my yoke upon you, and ye shall find rest.”

We must never reverse these things—never confound them—never displace them—never separate them. To call upon a sinner to take Christ’s yoke before he has gotten Christ’s rest, is to place Christ on the top of Mount Sinai, the sinner at the foot of that Mount, and a dark impenetrable cloud between. This must not be done. Christ stands, in all His matchless grace, before the sinner’s eye, and pours forth his touching invitation, “Come,” and adds His heart-assuring promise, “I will give.” There is no condition, no demand, “no servile work.” All is the purest, freest, richest grace. Just, “come, and I will give you rest.” And what then? Is it bondage, doubt, and fear? Ah! no ‘‘Take my yoke upon you.” How marvelously near this brings us to the One who has already given us rest! What a high honor to wear the same yoke with Him! It is not that He puts a grievous yoke upon our neck and a heavy burden upon our shoulder, which we have to carry up the rugged sides of you fiery Mount. This is not Christ’s way. It is not thus He deals with the weary and heavy laden that come unto Him. He gives them rest. He gives them part of His yoke, and a share of His burden. In other words, He calls them into fellowship with Himself, and in proportion as they enter into this fellowship, they find still deeper and deeper rest in Him and in His blessed ways; and, at the close, He will conduct them into that eternal rest which remains for the people of God.

May the Lord enable us to enter, more fully, into the power of all these divine realities, that so His joy may remain in us, and our joy may be full. There is an urgent need of a full, unreserved surrender of the heart to Christ, and a full, unreserved acceptance of Him, in all His precious adaptation to our every need. We want the whole heart, the single eye, the mortified mind, the broken will. Where these exist, there will be little complaining of doubts and fears, ups and downs, heavy days, vacant hours, restless moments, dullness and stupor, wandering and barrenness. When one has got to the end of himself, as regards wisdom, righteousness, holiness, and all beside, and when he has really found Christ as God’s provision for ALL, then, but not until then, he will know the depth and power of that word, “REST.”

“ Now, then, my Lord, my Way, my Life,

Henceforth, let trouble, doubt, and strife,

Drop off as Autumn leaves:

Henceforth, as privileged by Thee,

Simple and undistracted be,

My soul which to thy scepter cleaves

At all times, to my spirit bear

An inward witness, soft and clear,

Of Thy redeeming power:

This will instruct thy child, and fit,

Will sparkle forth whate’er is meet,

For exigence of every hour.

Thus, all the sequel is well weighed;

I cast myself upon Thine aid,

A sea where none can sink,

Yea, in that sphere I stand, poor worm,

Where Thou wilt for Thy name perform

Above whate’er I ask or think.”

The Young Convert's First Mission

My DEAR C—

The tidings of the Lord’s goodness, in speaking peace to your troubled soul, has filled my heart with joy and thanksgiving. I can truly rejoice in your joy, and be glad in the gladness of your heart. The Lord alone be praised for all His love and grace. What a reality the work of God’s Spirit in the soul is! He wounds that He may heal—He breaks down in power, that He may build up in grace. You have learned much in a short time, under your Divine Teacher. I trust you will diligently employ what you now know, for the Master’s glory, and the good of precious souls. You can now speak of the reality of peace, after trouble of conscience—of rest, after laboring under the weight and burden of sin—of joy, after passing through anguish of spirit. How often, of late, one has seen souls in all these conditions. The Lord is indeed working wondrously in many places, and in many, many souls. His name be praised.

There is another truth of great importance, which I trust you have been divinely taught, namely, that it is when we believe, and not before we believe, that we find peace. “Now the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing.” Mark the expression, “in believing.” As one has well observed, “Not for believing, as a price, or after believing, as a fulfilled condition, but in believing: the news itself making us glad as we believe it.” See that you have this simple truth, clearly, and firmly fixed in your mind. It must always be true. We are so constituted, that, in believing, a result is produced answering to the truth believed. If you receive a letter containing good news, what is the result produced on your mind? You are made glad. If containing sad news, what then? You are made sorry. Hence it is, that the moment the distressed soul is enabled to look to Jesus, in faith, it finds immediate relief. Why? because it believes that in Him, all its need is fully and eternally met. While looking to Him it never doubts. It sees the forgiveness of sins, through His precious blood— eternal life, and every blessing, through faith in His blessed name. In short, it finds all in Him, and in believing this, it has—it must have—perfect rest. It seeks to go no farther. Like the Psalmist, it now says, “This is my rest forever, here will I dwell; for I have desired it.” (Psalm 132:14.)

“I rest in Christ, the Son of God,

Who took the servant’s form;

By faith I flee to Jesu’s cross,

My covert from the storm.”

He is Himself the only worthy object in the whole universe for your heart. Did you possess every other, but not Him, there would be an aching void within, and a dreary blank without. But possessing Him, the blessed Christ of God, the heart is full to over-flowing, and everything around is seen in the light of His countenance, over which no cloud can ever pass. This is the sunshine of the soul: without it all is darkness. His presence is the only sanctuary for the sinner’s soul, and His love the fullness and consummation of its blessedness.

And now, my dear C. that you are “perfectly happy in Jesus”—that you know Him as the Saviour of your soul; what use should you make of this knowledge? Should you keep it to yourself? Should you conceal it from others? Surely, no! While it would be quite wrong to assume anything like a superiority over others, because we are christians; or be unwisely speaking about the truth, so as to irritate others, still, we must be true witnesses for Christ as the Saviour, and bear decided testimony for the truth, as it is in Him. The proper season must be watched for, and it must be done in meekness, gentleness, and love. Seek to convince those that you speak to, that you humbly desire their good. Avoid everything that would be like a display of yourself. An unconverted person is easily irritated by the testimony of a young christian. It requires to be done with great humility, and in a spirit of prayerful dependence on Christ. But, in the first place, begin to speak with those more like yourself, as to age and circumstances; such as the members of your own family, and your own former acquaintances.

We have, in the case of “Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother,” a beautiful, and instructive example, as to how service for Christ and souls may be commenced. “He first findeth his own brother Simon, and saith unto him, we have found the Messias, which is, being interpreted, the Christ. And he brought him to Jesus.” (John 1:41, 42.) Now, my dear C, do you go and do likewise. Let this be, in the name of the Lord, your first mission. First find your own brother, tell him what you have found, and seek to bring him to Jesus. How simple! how natural! yet, how well fitted to gain the end. You will observe, that he simply states what he, himself, had found. When this is done in a happy spirit, it will tell home in power. It is not attempting to teach, or to preach to others, but the simple statement of a fact which now fills your own heart with new and heavenly joy. When done at a proper time, and with an evident desire for your brother’s good, he cannot be offended. He will see that it is the genuine flow of a full and a happy heart. You may be surprised to find how little he seems to care for what you think so precious and important. But be not discouraged. Remember what you were yourself, count upon God, persevere, and watch for his soul. Nothing is so well fitted, as this watching for your brother’s soul, to keep your own soul right. Because you will be anxious to live according to your profession. Inconsistency would soon weaken your testimony, and prove a stumbling-block to him. Now, all this is true and applicable, whether the object be one’s own brother, one’s own relative, one’s own friend, or one’s own neighbor. Everyone is our “own brother” in a gospel sense; and our work of loving service is never finished, so long as we find one who refuses to come to Jesus. But above all things, be much in prayer for your own unconverted brother, relative, friend, and neighbor. I do not believe that we are ever really interested in a person, until we pray for him. In prayer we become linked with the person that we pray for, before God, and in His presence, and this leads us to walk before the person, as we would before God. Oh! the innumerable advantages of prayer! They are infinite!

Allow me also to suggest, that you avoid everything like reasoning and argument; the enemy will seek to drag you into this, but, “the servant of the Lord must not strive.” (Look carefully at 2 Tim. 2:22-26.) You would soon make enemies to yourself by argument and get unhappy in your own soul. Follow the example before you, “we have found the Messias.” This simple testimony when uttered from the heart, will have great power. It was enough for Simon. Through God’s blessing he was brought to Christ. Speak humbly; but firmly, of what you have found. That is, of what you know, possess; and enjoy. Avoid going beyond your depth. As opportunity occurs, you can speak of having found forgiveness, peace, joy, happiness, and full salvation.

The following extract will illustrate what I say. It was written by a little girl at school, to one very near and very dear to her heart, though personally far, far away. “I believe in Jesus, I have found Jesus, I know that Jesus loved me, and gave himself for me.” And now I know that I am saved. I am going to pray every day at— for you dear—, and for you dear—, and for others beside, that Jesus may bless you all. Oh! who can tell the effect of such an appeal, on the heart, it may be of a fond father, or a tender-hearted mother? especially when they see at the bottom of such a sweet letter, the familiar name of one so dear to them.

But now, my dear C, to conclude my long letter, let me press home upon your heart, the latter part of the example before us, namely, “And he brought him to Jesus!” Seek with all your heart to do this. Oh! be earnest. Give your whole heart to it. Let nothing divert you from your purpose. Make every other thing bend to this one point. It is a matter of life or death, heaven or hell. Oh! think! Can you think of your “own brother” on the broad road to destruction, and not strain every nerve to save him? Oh, be faithful—prayerful—watchful. Would any sacrifice of time, labor, or money be too great to save a beloved brother from endless woe? Have you done your utmost? You may be brought to feel as if the last arrow from your quiver had been spent in vain. Trust in God. His quiver is yet full of arrows. Burn before Him with consuming desire for your brothers’—your relatives’—your friends’—your neighbors’ conversion. And continue to burn as a living sacrifice before Him, until your own brother and every other brother are brought to Jesus. Oh! then, let the one great thought of your remaining days upon earth be, to bring sinners to Jesus; that His great name may be glorified in their salvation. Seek to bring them to the meetings, where they may hear about Jesus. As a noble-hearted evangelist lately said to me, “This I feel to be my grand commission, for the rest of my days, namely, to press upon sinners to come to Christ, and to press upon Christians to walk in Christ.” “As ye have received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk ye in him.”

May your first mission be taken, your first service performed, and your first letter written, in the true spirit and power of your own joy in having found Jesus, and in burning zeal to bring others to Him.

So prays, ever, most affectionately,

Yours, in Jesus, until He come,

Oh, speak of Jesus! of that love

Passing all bounds of human thought,

Which made Him quit His throne above,

With God-like, deep compassion fraught;

To save from death our ruin’d race,

Our guilt to purge, our path to trace.

Yes, speak of Jesus! of His grace,

Receiving, pardoning, blessing all

His holy, spotless life retrace—

His words, His miracles recall;

The words He spoke, the truths He taught,

With life-eternal life, are fraught.

Oh, speak of Jesus! of His death;

For sinners, such as me, He died:

“‘Tis finish’d,” with His latest breath,

The Lord, Jehovah Jesus, cried;

That death of shame and agony,

Open’d the way of life to me.

Courtesy of BibleTruthPublishers.com. Most likely this text has not been proofread. Any suggestions for spelling or punctuation corrections would be warmly received. Please email them to: BTPmail@bibletruthpublishers.com.

The Compass

There are few who have not seen a mariner’s compass with its needle pointing to the North. The invention of this little instrument effected a mighty change in the art of navigation. Previous to its discovery, the boldest and most experienced mariners could only venture out of port during the summer months, and even then they had to keep as near as possible to the shore. Now, on the contrary, they can make their way, with most marvelous precision, from hemisphere to hemisphere, all by the aid of the compass and its little tremulous needle.

The reader who does not know the history of this most important instrument—the time of its discovery—the name of its discoverer, together with its various properties and powers, can easily lay his hand on some volume containing all needed information. Our object in referring to it is simply to use it as an illustration, and for this purpose all we require to notice is one remarkable fact with respect to the needle-a fact set forth in the following lines,

“The ship may be tossed by the waves and the winds,

But the magnet still points to the North.”

This simple fact teaches the Christian a sweet and holy lesson. It reminds him that it becomes him, however tossed on the billows of life’s ocean, or beaten by the angry tempest, to set his affection on things above. The needle of his heart’s affections, however tremulous, should ever point to the North—ever trend upward toward that place where Jesus sitteth at the right hand of God. Let him think of this, whenever his eye rests on a mariner’s compass. Let that most interesting and valuable instrument ever exhibit to his view this inscription, “Set your affection on things above”

It is instructive, too, and admonitory, to think of the difficulty felt in adjusting the compass on board of iron ships. This is entirely owing to the powerful influence which the iron exerts upon the needle of the compass. Where iron is not employed, the needle is governed by one thing, namely, its divinely appointed law or principle. But where the instrument is surrounded on all sides by disturbing influences, the difficulty in adjusting it is very great.

How like is this to the needle of the heart’s affections! How many are the disturbing and distracting influences all around! How difficult the work of proper adjustment! Difficult, did I say? Impossible—wholly impossible for us. The Holy Ghost alone can accomplish it. He perfectly understands the action and influence of surrounding circumstances. And, as the regulator of the compass on board an iron ship, seeks to effect an adjustment by placing magnets in such a manner as to counteract the influence of the iron, and leave the needle free to act on its proper, native law; so does the Divine Regulator seek to surround our poor fickle, susceptible hearts, by the powerful attractions of Christ, that they may be kept free from every deranging force and allowed to point, with unswerving decision, ever and only upward.

Oh! may our compass be ever adjusted by the skillful hand of God the Holy Ghost, that so we may pursue our steady course across the trackless ocean, with the head of the vessel kept ever bearing toward the haven of eternal rest, where we shall very soon drop our anchor, and enter upon the enjoyment of the ineffable charms of our heavenly home.

“Secure within the veil,

Christ is our anchor strong;

While power supreme and love divine

Still guide us safe along.

And should the surges rise,

Should sore temptations come,

Blest is the sorrow, kind the storm,

That brings us nearer home.’’

Jesus Here

Thou treasure, inexhaustible,

Thou source of true delight,

What care I for the world’s applause,

Or for its diamonds bright?

More prized by far, one smile from Thee,

Than all earth holds most dear;

I want for nothing man can give,

For I have Jesus here.

Yes, yes, this lov’d one is my own,

Could any richer be,

When all He has, and all He is—

All, all, belong to me?

In Him is bread that can sustain,

And living wine to cheer;

And there’s a heart that beats for me,

For I have Jesus here.

‘Tis sweet to linger by His side,

To listen to His voice,

For, oh! He speaks in melting tones,

Which make my heart rejoice.

And when His name, His own dear name,

Resounds upon my ear,

I can but weep for very joy,

For I have Jesus here.

And often now I love to sit,

And watch for His return,

For though in spirit He is here,

I still His absence mourn;

But soon shall dawn that brightest day,

Soon, soon, He shall appear.

And, oh! I must be with Him then,

For I have Jesus here.

The Grapes of Eshcol

(Numb, 13)

The grand principle of the divine life is faith—simple, earnest, whole-hearted faith—faith that just takes and enjoys all that God has given—faith that puts the soul in possession of eternal realities, and maintains it therein habitually. This is true in reference to the people of God in all ages. “According to your faith, so be it unto you,” is ever the divine motto. There is no limit. All that God reveals, faith may have; and all that faith can grasp, the soul may abidingly enjoy.

It is well to remember this. We all live far, very far below our privileges. We are satisfied, many of us, to move at a great distance from the blessed Center of all our joys. We are content with merely knowing salvation, while, at the same time, we taste but little of holy communion with the Person of the Saviour. We are satisfied with merely knowing that a relationship exists, without earnestly and jealously cultivating the affections belonging thereto. This is the cause of much of our coldness and barrenness. As, in the solar system, the further a planet is from the sun the colder its climate and the slower its movement; so in the spiritual system, the further one moves from Christ, the colder will be the state of his heart toward Christ, and the slower his movement for Christ. On the contrary, fervor and rapidity will ever be the result of felt nearness to that central Sun—the great Fountain of heat and light.

The more we enter into the power of the love of Christ, and the more we realize His abiding presence with us, the more intolerable we shall feel it to be one moment away from Him. Everything will be dreaded and avoided which would tend to withdraw our hearts from Him, or hide from our souls the light of His blessed countenance. The heart, that has really learned aught of the love of Christ, cannot live without it; yea, it can part with all for it. When away from Him, naught is felt save the gloom of midnight and the chilling breath of winter; but in His presence, the soul can mount upward like the lark, as he rises into the bright blue heavens to salute, with his cheerful song, the sun’s morning beams.

Nothing exhibits more the deep-seated unbelief of our hearts than the fact that, while our God would have us enjoying communion with the very highest truths, few of us ever think of aspiring beyond the mere alphabet. Our hearts do not sigh, as they should, after the higher walks of spiritual scholarship. We are satisfied with having the foundation laid, and are not as anxious as we should be, to add layer after layer to the spiritual superstructure. Not that we can ever do without the alphabet or the foundation. This would be, obviously, impossible. The most advanced scholar must carry the alphabet along with him, and the higher the building is raised, the more the need of a solid foundation is felt.

But, let us look at Israel’s case. Their history is full of rich instruction for us. It is “written for our admonition.” (1 Cor. 10:11.) We must contemplate them in three distinct positions, namely, as sheltered by the blood; as victorious over Amalek; and as introduced into the land of Canaan.

Now, clearly, an Israelite in the land of Canaan had lost nothing of the value of the first two points. He was not the less shielded from judgment, or delivered from the sword of Amalek, because he was in the land of Canaan. Nay, the milk and honey, the grapes, figs, and pomegranates of that goodly land would but enhance the value of that precious blood which had preserved them from the sword of the destroyer, and afford the most unquestionable evidence of their having passed beyond the cruel grasp of Amalek.

Still, surely, no one would say that an Israelite ought to have sought nothing beyond the blood-stained lintel. It is plain he ought to have fixed his steady gaze on the vine-clad hills of the promised land, and said, “There lies my destined inheritance, and by the grace of Abraham’s God, I shall never rest satisfied until I plant my foot triumphantly thereon.” The blood-stained lintel was the starting post; the land of promise, the goal. It was Israel’s high privilege not only to have the assurance of full deliverance from the hand of Pharaoh, and the sword of Amalek, but also to cross the Jordan and pluck the mellow grapes of Eshcol. It was their sin and their shame that with the clusters of Eshcol before them, they could ever long after “the leeks, the onions, and the garlick” of Egypt.

But how was this? What kept them back? Just that hateful thing which, from day to day, and hour to hour, robs us of the precious privilege of treading the very highest stages of the divine life. And what is that? UNBELIEF! “So we see that they could not enter in because of unbelief.” (Heb. 3:19.) This it was which caused Israel to wander in the desert for forty tedious years. Instead of looking at Jehovah’s power to bring them into the land, they looked at the enemy’s power to keep them out of it. Thus they failed. In vain did the spies, whom they themselves proposed to send, (Deut. 1:22.) bring back a most attractive report of the character of the land. In vain did they display in their view a cluster of the grapes of Eshcol, so luxuriant that two men had to hear it upon a staff. All was useless. The spirit of unbelief had taken possession of their hearts. It was one thing to admire the grapes of Eshcol when brought to their tent doors by the energy of others; and quite another to move onward, in the energy of personal faith, and pluck those grapes for themselves.

And if “twelve men” could get to Eshcol, why not six hundred thousand? Could not the same hand that shielded the one, shield the other likewise? Faith says “Yes.” But unbelief shrinks from responsibility, and quails before difficulty. The people were no more willing to advance after the spies returned, than before they set out, they were in a state of unbelief, first and last. And what was the issue? Why, that out of six hundred thousand, which came up out of Egypt, only two had sufficient energy to plant their foot in the land of Canaan? This tells a tale. It utters a voice. It teaches a lesson. May we have ears to hear, and hearts to understand!

It may, perhaps, be said by some, that the time had not yet arrived for Israel’s entrance into the land of Canaan, inasmuch as “the iniquity of the Amorites was not yet full.” This is but a one-sided view of the subject, and we must look at both sides. The apostle expressly declares that Israel “could not enter in because of unbelief.” He does not assign as a reason “the iniquity of the Amorites,” or any secret counsel of God with respect to the Amorites. He simply gives as a reason, the unbelief of the people. They might have got in if they would. Nothing can be more unwarrantable than to make use of the unsearchable counsels and decrees of God, in order to throw overboard man’s solemn responsibility. It will never do. Are we to fold our arms and lie back in the culpable indolence of unbelief, because of God’s eternal decrees about which we know nothing? To say so can only be viewed as a piece of monstrous extravagance, the sure result of pushing one truth to such an extreme as to interfere with the range and action of some other truth equally important. We must give each and every truth its due place. We should not run one truth to seed while some other truth is not even allowed to take root. We know that unless God bless the labors of the husbandman there will be no crop at the time of harvest; does this prevent the diligent use of the plow and the harrow? Surely not, for the same God who has appointed the crop as the end, has appointed patient labor as the means.

Thus it is also in the spiritual world. God’s appointed end must never be separated from God’s appointed means. Had Israel trusted God and gone up, the whole assembly might have regaled themselves on Eshcol’s luxuriant clusters. This they did not do. The grapes were lovely, no doubt. This was obvious to all. The spies were constrained to admit that the land flowed with milk and honey. But there was sure to be a “nevertheless.” Why? Because they were not trusting in God. He had already declared to Moses the character of the land, and His testimony ought to have been amply sufficient. He had said, in the most unqualified manner, “I am come down to deliver them out of the hand of the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land unto a good land and a large, unto a land flowing with milk and honey.” (Exod. 3:8.) Should not this have sufficed? Was not Jehovah’s description much more trustworthy than man’s? Yes, to faith; but not to unbelief. This latter can never be satisfied with divine testimony, it must have the testimony of the senses. God had said it was “a land flowing with milk and honey.” This the spies admitted. But, then, hearken to the additions. “Nevertheless the people be strong that dwell in the land, and the cities are walled and very great; and, moreover, we saw the children of Anak there......and there we saw the giants, the sons of Anak, which come of the giants; and we were in our own sight as grasshoppers, and so were we in their sight.” Numb. 14:28.

Thus it was with them. They only “saw” the frowning walls and towering giants. They did not see Jehovah, because they looked with the eye of sense and not with the eye of faith. God was shut out. He never gets a place in the calculations of unbelief. It can see walls and giants; but it cannot see God. It is only faith that can “endure as seeing him who is invisible.” The spies could declare what they were in their own sight, and in the sight of the giants, but not a word about what they were in God’s sight. They never thought of this. The land was all that could be desired; but the difficulties were too great for them, and they had not faith to trust God. The mission of the spies proved a failure. Israel “despised the pleasant land,” and, “in their hearts, turned back again into Egypt.”

This is the sum of the matter. Unbelief kept Israel from plucking the grapes of Eshcol, and sent them back to wander for forty years in the wilderness; and these things, be it remembered, “were written for our admonition.” May we deeply and prayerfully ponder the lesson! Out of six hundred thousand that came up out of Egypt, only two planted their foot on the fruitful hills of Palestine! They passed the lied Sea, triumphed over Amalek, but quailed and retreated before “the sons of Anak,” though these latter were no more to Jehovah than the former.

Now, let the Christian reader ponder all this. The special object of this paper is to encourage him to arise, and, in the energy of a full, unqualified trust in Christ, tread the very highest stages of the life of faith. Having our solid foundation laid in the blood of the cross, it is our privilege not only to be victorious over Amalek, or indwelling sin, but also to taste of the old corn of the land of Canaan, to pluck the grapes of Eshcol, and delight ourselves in its flowing tide of milk and honey; or, in other words, to enter into the living and elevated experiences which flow from habitual fellowship with arisen Christ, with whom we are linked in the power of an endless life. It is one thing to know that our sins are canceled by the blood of Christ. It is another thing to know that Christ has destroyed the power of indwelling sin. And it is a still higher thing to live in unbroken fellowship with Himself. It is not that we lose the sense of the two former when living in the power of the latter. Quite the opposite. The more closely I walk with Christ—the more I have Him dwelling in my heart by faith, the more I shall value all He has done for me, both in the putting away of my sins, and in the entire subjugation of my evil nature. The higher the superstructure rises the more I shall value the solid foundation beneath. It is a great mistake to suppose that those who move in the higher spheres of spiritual life could ever undervalue the title by which they do so. Oh! no; the language of those who have passed into the innermost circle of the upper sanctuary is, “Unto him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood.” They talk of the love of Christ’s heart and the blood of His cross. The nearer they approach to the throne, the more they enter into the value of that which placed them on such a sublime elevation. And so with us; the more we breathe the air of the divine presence-the more we tread, in spirit, the courts of the heavenly sanctuary, the more highly shall we estimate the riches of redeeming love. It is as we pluck the grapes of Eshcol in the heavenly Canaan, that we have the deepest sense of the value of that precious blood which shielded us from the sword of the destroyer.

Let us not, therefore, be deterred from aiming after a higher consecration of heart to Christ by a false fear of undervaluing those precious truths which filled our hearts with heavenly peace when first we started on our Christian career. The enemy will use anything and everything to keep the spiritual Israel from planting the foot of faith in the spiritual Canaan. He will seek to keep them occupied with themselves and with the difficulties which attend upon their upward and onward course. He knows that when one has really eaten of the grapes of Eshcol, it is no longer a question of escaping from Pharaoh or Amalek, and hence he sets before them the walls and the giants, and their own nothingness, weakness, and unworthiness. But the answer is simple and conclusive. It is this, trust! trust! trust! Yes, from the blood-stained lintel in Egypt, to the rare and exquisite clusters of Eshcol, it is all simple, unqualified, unquestioning trust in Christ. “ By faith they kept the passover, and the sprinkling of blood;” and, “by faith the walls of Jericho fell down.” (Heb. 11) From the starting post to the goal, and at every intermediate stage, “The just shall live by faith.”

But, let us never forget that this faith involves the full surrender of the heart to Christ, as well as the full acceptance of Christ for the heart. Reader, let us ponder this deeply. It must be wholly Christ for the heart and the heart wholly for Christ. To separate these things is, as someone has remarked, to be “like a boat with one side oar, which goes round and round, but makes no progress, only drifts with the stream, whirling as it drifts. Or like a bird with a broken wing, whirling over and over, and falling as it whirls.” This is too much lost sight of, and hence, the uncertain course and fluctuating experience. There is no progress. People cannot expect to get on with Christ in one hand and the world in the other. We can never feast on “the grapes of Eshcol” while our hearts are longing after “the flesh pots of Egypt.”

May the Lord grant us a whole heart—a single eye—an upright mind. May the one commanding object of our souls be to mount upward and onward. Having all divinely and eternally settled, by the blood of the cross, may we press forward, with holy energy and decision, “toward the mark, for the prize of our high calling of God in Christ Jesus.”

“ Ο wondrous grace! Ο love divine!

To give us such a home;

Let us the present things resign,

And seek the rest to come;

And gazing on our Saviour’s cross,

Esteem all else but dung and dross:

Press forward till the race be run;

Fight till the crown of life he won.”

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 anyone 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.

1. 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. Someone, 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.

2. 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!

3. 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 Saviour Jesus Christ.”

Signs of a Revival

The signs of a revival, whether in an individual soul, in an assembly, or in a neighborhood, will be found to be substantially the same. A revival of true, vital godliness in the souls of believers, or an increased number of conversions, is the work of God’s Spirit. Strictly speaking, He is the only Revivalist. To apply the term to any of the servants of Christ is a mistake. Hence the signs and fruits of a genuine revival must be in accordance with truth and holiness, for He is “the Spirit of truth,” and “the Holy Spirit.” All that is contrary thereto, must be attributed to man’s faultiness in the details of the work.

1. The first sign, or indication, of a reviving of the Lord’s work in a neighborhood, we believe to be afresh quickening of His own people in that place. Like the fire that has become set and dull, it needs to be stirred up, so that its energies may be renewed, and that they may spread forth on all sides. In like manner, with the Lord’s own people who may have become dull and inactive, they need stirring up. But when the divine life in the soul has been stirred up by the Spirit of God, then it will manifest fresh life, and fresh energy. A heavenly freshness will pervade the soul, as if it had received new life. This blessed work may begin, and for some time be manifest, in only one or two individuals; but where the Spirit of God is, there is gathering power, and their numbers must soon increase. By this means, the people of God are brought into sympathy and fellowship with His mind and purpose. Now they can work together. The love of the world in its many forms, will immediately and greatly decline. Obedience to its exorbitant demands will be refused. And on the other hand, love to Christ, and true subjection of heart to His claims will greatly and rapidly increase. To meet the desires of His heart will now be the delight of each newly invigorated soul.

2. The second sign will be manifested in a revived spirit of prayer. The tender sensibilities of the renewed mind, will soon be made to feel the coldness and deadness that prevails around. This will lead to an earnest desire for prayer on the behalf of such. Time and place will be found. Difficulties hitherto insurmountable will be overcome. In some places there are now prayer-meetings between five and six o’clock in the morning, to accommodate those who commence work at six. This sign is now so generally received as a token for good, that persons are in the habit of saying, “I have no doubt that the Lord is about to work there; the people are coming together for prayer.” Still, there may be an increase as to the number of prayer-meetings, without much increase as to the spirit of prayer. An effort may be made to “get up” prayer-meetings in one place, because they have been made a blessing in another; or because they are becoming general. In some instances, this may be little better than imitation. But where the work has been begun by the Spirit of God, there will be a real, earnest spirit of prayer. There will be such felt need, and such conscious weakness, that prayer will be eagerly desired. Any hour, any place, that affords the desired opportunity, will be heartily welcomed. The less display, the more congenial to the heart. There is a wonderful difference between merely coming to a prayer-meeting, and coming in the true spirit of prayer. The one may be a formality, the other is a living reality; the former may be gone through in a dull, sleepy state, but the latter will be manifested in the stirring energies of life- in a spirit of real waiting upon God, and earnest crying unto Him.

3. The third sign may be, an increased love for precious souls. The spiritual vision of the revived ones is now so bright and clear, that the fearful condition of unbelievers, and the solemn realities of the future, are vividly before them, and greatly affect them. Hence, the eternal welfare of the unconverted becomes a subject of the deepest interest. They will think much about them, affectionately entreat them, and constantly pray to the Lord about them. Their love for precious, immortal souls will grow exceedingly. The love of Christ, Himself, for them, is seen in a new light. His glory in their salvation, and His dishonor through their unbelief, are differently felt. The perishing soul is now, as it were, seen in His light, and loved with His love. Oh! what a change! what a happy change, as to their love for precious souls. When things are in a low state within the Church, souls that are outside are but little cared for.

4. There will now be efforts made answering to this love. We have observed, in such times of refreshing, that there is not only a difference in praying, but also in preaching. What plainness—what earnestness—what beseeching—what depth of feeling, is exhibited; and how intensely bent the preacher is upon one thing, namely, to win souls to Christ. The Church has been awakened, aroused, blessed, and has caught the sacred fire. Everyone is seeking to do something for the glory of the Lord, the building up of the Church, and the ingathering of precious souls. Attention and kindness are shown to strangers. Children are cared for. The salvation of their souls is earnestly desired. The thoughtless, outside, are thought of, and efforts are made to bring them in. Tract distribution, in various ways, is attended to, with the most lively and hopeful interest. All are at work, and all are earnest and happy in their work. A revived, healthy, vigorous, elevated tone, and self-denying effort, now characterize the assembly of God.

5. Another happy feature of a true Revival is an enlarged expectation of blessing. Not only is blessing prayed for, and efforts made to obtain it, but it is expected. God is trusted. His grace to meet every need is counted upon. Answers to prayer are looked for. Blessing to souls in connection with the preaching is searched for, and prayer is made that the search may not be in vain. It is no longer the mere routine of service, the use of means as it is called, and leaving the results with God, without being concerned as to what these results are. But now, in the improved state of things, diligent search is made as to what ground the seed has fallen upon, and where it has taken root. At such times, and on some occasions, it has pleased that Lord to give special faith to some of His servants in expecting blessing. So much so, that they have been led to pray for it, not only with expectation, but with certainty. And through them the faith of others has been strengthened, and encouraged to look to the Lord in the fullness of expectation, and in the confident assurance that showers of blessing would be poured down. Such faith can never be disappointed. Numbers of conversions must follow—the blessing must extend. The power of God is now manifest in the assembly, even if His special servants are absent. The work cannot stand still; it moves on steadily and surely. Conversions bear the special seal of God. Unbelievers are more thoroughly overpowered by the character of the work, than by the power of preaching. There is no room for criticism in such remarkable cases of blessing. God is present of a truth. His power is felt, and numbers of the most unlikely, and the least expected, bow before Him, confessing their sins, and worshipping Him as the Saviour-God. O, what a blessed, happy, God-honoring state for an assembly to be in. To be brought into such close communion with God—such real fellowship with Him in His work of grace —such blessed nearness, as to make the praying ones feel as if they were “inside the veil.” O, who would not earnestly breathe after such a state of things? Who would not seek to be blessed with the bright beams of such wondrous grace? Who would not fervently cry to the Lord, that He would so revive His work amongst us, and give us to taste and see such floods of blessing?

May the above thoughts, which have been suggested by such scenes, lead many, who may read this paper, solemnly to judge themselves before the Lord, as to how far their souls are in the present current of the Holy Spirit, and whether they are now praying and looking for such seasons of blessing, in this the day of His most marvelous grace.

A Note of Joy

Joyfully, joyfully, onward we move,

Bound for the land of bright spirits above;

Jesus, the Saviour, invites us to come;

Joyfully, joyfully, hasten we home.

Soon will our pilgrimage end here below;

Soon to the presence of Christ we shall go;

And if our hearts have to Jesus been given.

Joyfully, joyfully, rest we in heaven.

Voice of archangel, and trumpet of God,

Joyfully summon the quick and the dead;

Bright in His glory shall Jesus appear,

Upward in clouds shall we meet Him in air.

Partings all over, and sorrows all gone,

Blest in His presence eternally one;

Like Him, and with Him, forever to be,

Joyfully, joyfully, welcome the day.

Crowns may encircle our radiant brow,

Joyful we’ll cast them before Him and bow;

Harps of the harpers shall gladden the throne,

Joyful to tell He is worthy alone:

Angels in chorus their anthem shall raise,

Only to give Him all honor and praise;

And every creature around and above,

Joyfully, joyfully, rests in His love.

Saul of Tarsus

In contemplating the character of this most remarkable man, we may gather up some fine principles of gospel truth. He seems to have been peculiarly fitted to show forth, in the first place, what the grace of God can do; and, in the second place, what the greatest amount of legal effort cannot do. If ever there was a man upon this earth whose history illustrates the truth, that “salvation is by grace, without works of law,” Saul of Tarsus was that man. Indeed, it would seem as though God had specially designed to present, in the person of Saul, a living example, first, of the depth to which a sinner can descend; and, secondly, of the height to which a legalist can attain. He was, at once, the very worst, and the very best of men-the chief of sinners, and the chief of legalists. He traveled down to the lowest point of human wickedness, and climbed to the loftiest summit of human righteousness. He was a sinner of the sinners, and a Pharisee of the Pharisees.

Let us, then, in the first place, contemplate him as

THE CHIEF OF SINNERS.

“This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners; of whom I am chief” (1 Tim. 1:15.) Now, let the reader note, particularly, that the Spirit of God declares, concerning Saul of Tarsus, that he was the chief of sinners. It is not the expression of Paul’s humility, though, no doubt, he was humble under the sense of what he had been. We are not to be occupied with the feelings of an inspired writer, but with the statements of the Holy Ghost who inspired him. It is well to see this. Very many persons speak of the feelings of the various inspired writers in a way calculated to weaken the sense of that precious truth, the plenary inspiration of holy scripture. They may not mean to do so; but, then, at a time like the present, when there is so much mental activity, so much of reason, so much of human speculation, we cannot be too guarded against aught that might, even in appearance, militate against the integrity of the word of God. We are anxious that our readers should entertain the very highest thoughts respecting the inspired volume; that they should treasure it in their heart’s affections, not as the expression of human feelings, however pious and praiseworthy, but as the depository of the thoughts of God. “For the prophecy came not in old time by the will of man: but holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost.” 2 Pet. 1:21.

Hence, therefore, in reading 1 Tim. 1:15, we are not to think of the feelings of man, but of the record of God, and this record declares that Paul was the chief of sinners. It is never once stated that anyone else was the chief of sinners. No doubt, in a secondary sense, each convicted heart will feel and own itself the vilest heart within its entire range of intelligence; but this is quite another matter. The Holy Ghost has declared of Paul, and of none other, that he was the chief of sinners; nor does the fact that He has told us this by the pen of Paul himself, interfere with, or weaken, in the smallest degree, the truth and value of the statement. Paul was the chief of sinners. No matter how bad any one may be, Paul could say, “I am chief.” No matter how low any one may feel himself to be—no matter how deeply sunk in the pit of ruin—a voice rises to his ear from a deeper point still, “I am chief.” There cannot be two chiefs, for if there were, it could only be said that Paul was one of them; whereas, it is most distinctly declared that he was “chief.”

But let us mark the object of all this dealing with the chief of sinners. “Howbeit for this cause I obtained mercy, that in me first Jesus Christ might show forth all long-suffering, for a pattern to them who should hereafter believe on him to life everlasting.” The chief of sinners is in heaven. How did he get there? Simply by the blood of Jesus; and, moreover, he is Christ’s “pattern” man. All may look at him and see how they, too, are to be saved, for, in such wise as the “chief” was saved, must all the subordinate be saved. The grace that reached the chief can reach all. The blood that cleansed the chief can cleanse all. The title by which the chief entered heaven is the title for all. The vilest sinner under the canopy of heaven may hearken to Paul saying, “I am chief, and yet I obtained mercy. Behold in me a pattern of Christ’s long-suffering.” There is not a sinner at this side the portal of hell, be he backslider or aught else, beyond the reach of the love of God, the blood of Christ, or the testimony of the Holy Ghost.

We shall now turn to the other side of Saul’s character, and contemplate him as

THE CHIEF OF LEGALISTS

“Though I might also have confidence in the flesh. If any other man thinketh that he hath whereof he might trust in the flesh, I more” (Phil. 3:4.) Here we have a most valuable point. Saul of Tarsus stood, as it were, on the very loftiest crag of the hill of legal righteousness. He reached the topmost step of the ladder of human religion. He would suffer no man to get above him. His religious attainments were of the very highest order. (See Gal. 1:14.) No one ever got beyond him in the matter of working out a self-righteousness. “If any other man thinketh that he hath whereof he might trust in the flesh, I more.” Is “any” man “trusting” in his temperance? Paul could say, “I more.” Is “any” man “trusting” in his morality? Paul could say, “I more.” Is “any” man “trusting” in ordinances, sacraments, religious services, or pious observances? Paul could say, “I more” Is “any” man proudly wrapping himself up in the pompous robes of orthodoxy, and “trusting” therein? Paul could say, “I more.” In a word, let a man mount up the hill of legal righteousness as high as the most towering ambition or fervid zeal can carry him, and he will hear a voice falling upon his ear, from a loftier height still, “I more.”

All this imparts a peculiar interest to the history of Saul of Tarsus. He lay at the very bottom of the pit of ruin, and he stood on the very summit of the hill of self-righteousness. Deep as any sinner may have sunk, Paul was deeper still. High as any legalist may have stood, Paul stood higher still. He combined, in his own person, the very worst and the very best of men. In him we see, at one view, the power of the blood of Christ, and the utter worthlessness of the fairest robe of self-righteousness that ever decked the person of a legalist. Looking at him, no sinner need despair; looking at him no legalist can boast, If the chief of sinners is in heaven, I can get there too. If the greatest religionist, legalist, and doer, that ever lived had to come down from the ladder of self-righteousness, it is of no use for me to go up. Saul of Tarsus came up from the depths, and down from the heights, and found his place at the pierced feet of Jesus of Nazareth. His guilt was no hindrance and his righteousness no use. The former was washed away by the blood, and the latter turned into dung and dross, by the moral glory of Christ. It mattered not whether it was “I chief” or “I more.” The cross was the only remedy. God forbid,” says this chief of sinners and prince of legalists, “that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world.” (Gal. 6:14.) Paul had just as little idea of trusting in his righteousness as in his crimes. He was permitted to win the laurel of victory in the grand legal struggle with his “equals in his own nation,” only that he might fling it, as a withered, worthless thing, at the foot of the cross. He was permitted to outstrip all in the dark career of guilt, only that he might exemplify the power of the love of God and the efficacy of the blood of Christ. The gospel has a double voice. It calls to the slave of vice who lies wallowing in the mire of moral pollution, and says, “Come up” It calls to the busy, self-complacent religionist, who is vainly endeavoring to clamber up the steep sides of Mount Sinai, and says, “Come down.” Saul was no nearer to Christ as the chief of legalists, then he was as the chief of sinners. There was no more justifying merit in his noblest efforts in the school of legalism, than in his wildest acts of opposition to the name of Christ. He was saved by grace, saved by blood, saved by faith. There is no other way for sinner or legalist.

Thus much as to Saul of Tarsus, in his twofold character as chief of sinners and chief of legalists. There is one other point in his history at which we must briefly glance, in order to show the practical results of the grace of Christ wherever that grace is known. This will present him to our notice as

THE MOST LABORIOUS OF APOSTLES

If Paul learned to cease working for righteousness, he also learned to begin working for Christ. When we behold, on the road leading to Damascus, the shattered fragments of the worst and best of men—when we hear those pathetic accents emanating from the depths of a broken heart, “Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?”—when we see that man who had just left Jerusalem, in all the mad fury of a persecuting zealot, now stretching forth the hand of blind helplessness, to be led like a little child into Damascus, we are led to form the very highest expectations as to his future career; nor are we disappointed. Mark the progress of that most remarkable man; behold his gigantic labors in the vineyard of Christ; see his tears, his toils, his travels, his perils, his struggles; see him as he bears his golden sheaves into the heavenly garner, and lays them down at the Master’s feet; see him wearing the noble bonds of the gospel, and finally laying his head on a martyr’s block, and say if the gospel of God’s free grace—the gospel of Christ’s free salvation, does away with good works. Nay, my reader, that precious gospel is the only true basis on which the superstructure of good works can ever be erected. Morality, without Christ, is an icy morality. Benevolence, without Christ, is a worthless benevolence. Ordinances, without Christ, are powerless and valueless. Orthodoxy, without Christ, is heartless and fruitless. We must get to the end of self, whether it be a guilty self or a religious self, and find Christ as the satisfying portion of our hearts, now and forever. Then we shall be able to say, with truth,

“Thou, Ο Christ, art all I want,

More than all in Thee I find.”

Thus it was with Saul of Tarsus. He got rid of himself and found his all in Christ, and hence, as we hang over the impressive page of his history, we hear, from the most profound depths of moral ruin, the words, “I am chief”— from the most elevated point in the legal system, the words, “I more”—and from amid the golden fields of apostolic labor, the words, “I labored more abundantly than they all.”

The Observatory

It is not only allowable, but praiseworthy and profitable, to learn from the various objects which meet our view from day to day. Our blessed Lord, when down here, was constantly in the habit of drawing some of His sublime and heavenly lessons from the scenes of nature, and from the everyday circumstances of human life.

This style of teaching has two advantages. It not only illustrates truth in a clear and forcible manner, which is of the utmost importance, but it so links the truth with the object which has been used to illustrate it, that we can hardly ever see that object without thinking of the truth.

Now, it may be that the reader of these few lines has, somewhere, seen an observatory, with its telescope pointing to the skies. This is a most instructive object. It is often to be seen on the roof of a house, and is sometimes made use of for taking observations of the heavenly bodies, in order to regulate watches, clocks, and chronometers. We all know how time-pieces vary, and how difficult it is to get them to keep the same time. Charles V. Emperor of Germany, after vainly trying to get men to agree in their religious opinions, abdicated the throne, and occupied himself in endeavoring to make a few clocks keep time. But alas! he found the one as impossible as the other. Men could not be forced to agree, in reference to eternity, nor could clocks be forced to agree, in reference to time.

However, though clocks and watches, if left to themselves, will never agree, yet, an intelligent watchmaker who, by means of his observatory and telescope, has access to the heavens, can so regulate each one as to make it keep tolerably accurate time. He will daily mount up to his lofty viewing place, and there, far removed from the din and bustle of the world, in the profound solitude of his observatory, and assisted by that powerful instrument which brings heavenly things near to mortal vision, he will scan the vault above—get absorbed in his sublime contemplations, and come down from his elevated position laden with accurate intelligence by which to regulate the things of time. He has been occupied with a scene where all is order, precision, and regularity. There is no clashing or confusion up yonder. To the very moment of its divinely-appointed time, will each celestial body arrive at its meridian; and you might see the watchmaker, with the watch or chronometer beside him, in order to compare its movement with some heavenly body, and thus ascertain its usual variation. All, up there, is order. All, down here, is confusion. The former is the only true test by which to judge of the latter; and hence, when the watchmaker descends from his observatory to his workshop, he is, in no wise, confounded when he looks around him and sees, it may be, no two clocks giving the same time. He has been occupied with the heavens and he knows all about it. He knows that man’s clumsy and imperfect machinery can never be brought to keep pace with the orbs of heaven. Earth’s most perfect chronometer will vary more or less; and it is only by constant attention to the movements of the celestial guide, a constant comparison of his time-piece therewith, and a constant adjustment thereto, that the watchmaker can gain even a measure of approximation. He must constantly betake himself to his observatory and his telescope. The more he studies the things above—the more enlarged and accurate his knowledge of the heavens, the more accuracy and certainty he will attain in his operations below. There must be constant intercourse kept up between his observatory and his workshop—his viewing-place and his working-place.

From all this, the Christian may, surely, gather up some refreshing and elevating thoughts. He, too, will need to have his observatory with its telescope pointing upwards to yonder place, where all is peace, harmony, and order. He will continually require to get up above the strife and confusion of this lower world, and, there, shut in with Christ, and with the aid of faith’s powerful lens, drink in to his very soul that solid truth which will give precision and stability to his movements, down here. The Christian who is much in his observatory will not be affected by the conflicting opinions which meet him down below. He will be able to put them all down to the proper account. He will attribute them to the fact that man’s movements are not in conformity with the laws and ways of heaven-that the prayer, “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven” has not yet been fully answered. But, then, he will seek to regulate his own ways, by communion with “things above.” This will be his constant, earnest, honest aim.

And, be it remembered, the Christian is never to leave his observatory, or lay down his telescope. For the abiding refreshment and joy of his own soul, for the deep and settled peace of his heart, for habitual personal holiness, and practical sanctification, for the due ordering of all his thoughts, words, and habits, he must be continually abiding in Christ-walking by faith. If this be forgotten, all must go wrong. If we do not literally live in our observatory, we shall be tossed about like a cork on the waters of strife and confusion. We not only get into that observatory by faith, but abide there and work there by faith. It is all by faith, that mighty principle which brings heavenly realities within the full, clear range of the soul’s vision-faith which is “the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” (Heb. 11:1.)

May the Holy Spirit awaken in our hearts a more intense desire after a closer walk with God, and more habitual elevation above the things of time! Should the foregoing lines have, in any measure, the effect of leading the soul in an upward direction, we shall not regret our visit to the observatory.

“Far from these narrow scenes of night,

Unbounded glories rise;

And realms of infinite delight,

Unseen by mortal eyes

Oh! may the heavenly vision fire

Our souls with ardent love;

Till wings of faith and strong desire

Bear every thought above.”

That Beautiful Eye

Such were the words of a dying saint, happy in the thought that however feebly her eye could discern Jesus, His eye rested on her with infinite love.

That beautiful eye! that beautiful eye!

It beams on me brightly from out the far sky;

Once closed for my sins, in the death on the tree,

It has opened forever, and opened on me.

It saw me in ruin, and wand’ring astray,

The captive of Satan, where he led the way:

The paths of the wicked were trodden with glee;

Ah! little I knew that His eye was on me.

It tracked me with mercy, no vengeance shone there;

It beamed with a love that in pity could spare;

‘Twas pity indeed, for I cannot tell why

Such love should shine forth from that beautiful eye.

But a vail on my heart, and blinded my eye,

I cast not a glance toward the far sky;

Till God, who commanded ‘mid darkness to shine

The light to illumine such dark hearts as mine,

First drew me to Jesus, and trembling with dread,

His gentle hand raised up my sin-stricken head,

To look on the Saviour, who died on the tree,

And feel the dear gaze of His eye upon me.

That beautiful eye! that beautiful eye!

Beneath its full beams forever I’d lie;

Though darkness may cover and gloom may surround,

That eye shall still follow to whither I’m bound.

When loudly shall sound the trumpet of God,

That summons the saints from beneath the dark cloud,

And calls up the living to meet in the air,

The Saviour who loved them, His glory to share,

No more through a glass, but then face to face,

I shall look on Himself! I shall tell of His grace;

Forever I’ll dwell in His home in the sky,

And live in the light of that beautiful eye.

That Beautiful Tree

Added the same dying saint, as she thought of the Cross— “it’s a beautiful tree for me to pick from.”

That beautiful tree! that beautiful tree!

Its fruit, oh how sweet to a sinner like me;

The fruit of the tree where the Saviour bled,

Prom the wounds in His side, His hands, and His head.

Of this tree I may pluck, no barrier around,

No wall of partition, though holy the ground;

No fierce flaming sword, no cherubim here,

But the soft voice of love whispers “nothing to fear.”

In safety I rest ‘neath the shade of the tree,

A blood-sprinkled cover is spread over me;

Though bitter the thought, ‘twas for all that I am,

I’ve joy as I feed on my passover Lamb.

Thus sorrow and joy are poured into my soul,

And deep streams of peace as a broad river roll;

And love passing knowledge, that reaches to me,

I drink as it streams from that beautiful tree.

Though waters of Marah abound in the waste,

That beautiful tree can sweeten their taste;

The burden of sin, or sufferings and loss,

They vanish and fall at the foot of the cross.

Oh, beautiful tree! oh beautiful tree!

Unsearchable riches are treasured in thee:

The heights and the depths we shall never explore

Till the garner of Jesus is full of thy store.

And then shall I know even as I am known;

No stammering lips thy blessings shall own,

But bursting at once from a blood-ransom’d throng,

Shall roll a full tide of eternal song.

Worthy the Lamb! that bought us with blood,

All glory to Thee, thou blest Son of God!

And blessing, and honor, and praise unto

Thee, Who hast died for our sins on that beautiful tree!

God's Provision for Man's Need: A Sacrifice, a Priest and a Place of Worship

In the Book of Leviticus, we find most fully unfolded, what we may call, “God’s provision for man’s need;” or a Sacrifice, a Priest, and a Place of Worship. These are essentially necessary in drawing near unto God, as this book most abundantly proves. But everything therewith connected was appointed by God, and established by his law. Nothing was left to be supplied by man’s fertile imagination, or his prudential arrangement. “ So Aaron and his sons did all things which the Lord commanded by the hand of Moses.” (8:36; 9:6, 7.) Without the word of the Lord, neither priest nor people could take a single step in the right direction. It is so still. There is not a single ray of light in this dark world, but that which is shed from Holy Scripture. “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.” (Psalm 119:105.) It is truly happy when the children of God so honor His word as to be guided by it in all things. We need now, as much as the Jew did then, divine direction and divine guidance for acceptable worship. “But the hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth: for the Father seeketh such to worship him.” (John 4:23, 24.) More than sincerity or devoutness of feeling is required in the children’s worship. It must be in the unction of the Spirit, and according to the truth of God. But we have all, blessed be His name, in the Person and work of our blessed Lord Jesus! He is both our sacrifice and priest, and our right of entrance into the holiest of all. Oh! to be kept near to His wounded side, and in the abiding sense, that He is the ground, the material, and the sweet incense of all our worship.

Let us now briefly notice the three points already mentioned.

1. In the first place, we would observe, that sacrifice is the basis of worship. Acceptable worship to God must be based on a sacrifice acceptable to Him. Man, being in himself guilty and unclean, he needs a sacrifice—to remove his guilt, cleanse him from his defilements, and fit him for the holy presence of God. “Without shedding of blood is no remission.” And without remission, and the knowledge of remission, there can be no happy worship: no real, hearty praise, adoration, and thanksgiving. Going to what is called “a place of worship,” and worshipping God, are widely different things. God is holy, and man must approach Him in His own way, and according to what He is. As Moses said unto Aaron, on the solemn occasion of the sin of Nadab and Abihu, “This is it that the Lord spake, saying, I will be sanctified in them that come nigh me, and before all the people I will be glorified.” The Lord alone could give directions as to how the people were to draw nigh unto Him. This is the great subject of the Book of Leviticus.

It was on the ground of offered and accepted sacrifice that the children of Israel were constituted the worshipping people of God. It is on the same ground, namely, offered and accepted sacrifice, that believers in Jesus are constituted the worshipping people of God now. (Read carefully Lev. 16 Heb. 9: 10.) They have taken Israel’s place, but after a much higher order, whether we look at the sacrifice, the priest, or the place of worship. The contrast between them is great, and strongly marked in Scripture, especially in the Epistle to the Hebrews. The Jewish sacrifices never reached the conscience of the offerer, and the Jewish priest never could pronounce him “clean every whit.” The gifts and sacrifices which were offered under the law, as the apostle tells us, “could not make him that did the service perfect, as pertaining to the conscience.” The conscience, observe, always being the reflection of the sacrifice, it could not be perfect, seeing the sacrifice was not perfect. “For it is not possible that the blood of bulls and of goats should take away sins.” Hence, Jewish worship was connected with inefficient sacrifices, a burdensome ritual, and an unpurged conscience, which gendered in the worshipper a spirit of bondage and fear.

But now, mark the contrast to all this in the once-offered and accepted sacrifice of Christ. He “put away sin by the sacrifice of himself.” All is done. Having “by himself purged our sins, he sat down on the right hand of the majesty on high.” When the worshipper comes before God on the ground of this sacrifice, he finds that he has nothing to do save, as a priest, to show forth the praises of Him “who hath called us out of darkness into his marvelous light.” Even Christ has nothing more to do as regards our justification and acceptance. “For by one offering he hath perfected forever them that are sanctified.” The Jew, by his sacrifice, was merely ceremonially clean, and that only for a moment, as it were; but the Christian, through the sacrifice of Christ, is really so, and that forever. Oh! that sweet word, “FOREVER.” It is the common privilege of all believers to be perfected as worshippers before God, “through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all.” On this deeply-important point the testimony of Scripture is most full and explicit. For the worshippers once purged should have “no more conscience of sins.” “The blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin.” “And their sins and iniquities will I remember no more.” (1 John 1:7; Heb. 10) By the work of Christ for us our sins were all put away. And, now, by faith in God’s word, we know that they are all forgiven and forgotten. Hence, we can draw near to God, and stand in his holy presence, in the happy assurance that God’s provision for man’s need there is neither sin nor stain upon us. Our great High Priest has pronounced us “clean every whit.” (John 13) Believing this, the sense of guilt is taken away; we have “NO MORE CONSCIENCE OF SINS.”

This deeply-precious truth, observe, does not mean that there is no more consciousness of sins. Far from it. Or that we may not get a bad conscience through failure—or that we need not be exercised “to have a conscience void of offense toward God and toward man.” Not at all. It simply means that Christ, by the one, perfect, finished sacrifice of Himself, has forever put away all our sins, root and branch. And having been led to know and believe this, how can there be sins on the conscience? Christ has put them all away. The precious blood of our once-offered and accepted sacrifice has cleansed us from every spot and stain of sin. There may be the deepest sense of indwelling sin, and of many sins and shortcomings in our every-day life, and the painful confession of them all to God. Still, there is the full assurance that Christ died for our sins, put them all away, and that none of them can ever be laid to our charge. This is indeed a most wonderful truth; but it is the great, the needed truth for a worshipper. How could we stand in God’s presence, where all is perfection, if we were not as clean as He would have us to be? We must be clean enough for the eye of Infinite Holiness. But, blessed be God, all who believe in Jesus, and rest on His finished sacrifice, are forgiven and justified. They have eternal life, righteousness, and peace. The first cry of the guilty sinner for mercy, is answered by the blood of the sacrifice. It penetrates to the deepest depths of his need—it raises him to the highest heights of heaven, and fits him to be there, a happy worshipper, in the immediate presence of the throne of God. “For Christ also hath once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God.” “For if the blood of bulls and of goats, and the ashes of an heifer, sprinkling the unclean, sanctifieth to the purifying of the fleshy how much more shall the blood of Christ, who, through the eternal Spirit, offered himself without spot to God, purge your conscience from dead works to serve the living God.” 1 Pet. 3:18; 5 Heb. 9:13, 14.

2. In the second place, we have, in the rich provisions of God’s grace, the Lord Jesus Christ as our great High Priest in the presence of God for us. He ministers there for us. “We have such an High Priest, who is set on the right hand of the throne of the Majesty in the heavens, A minister of the sanctuary, and of the true tabernacle,, which the Lord pitched, and not man.” (Heb. 8:1, 2.) His work of sacrifice having been fully completed, He sat down. Aaron is represented as being always in a standing position. His work was never finished. He stood “daily ministering, and offering oftentimes the same sacrifices which can never take away sin. But this man, after he had offered one sacrifice for sins, forever sat down on the right hand of God.” Immediately after the law of the Lord had been given as to sacrifice, the priesthood was established. The saints have both in Christ. He is our sacrifice and our priest, He appeared once on the cross for us. He now appears in heaven for us. Ere long He will appear in glory with us. To know what He accomplished on the cross, and what He is now doing in the sanctuary above, will nourish in our hearts the hope of his coming, and lead us to long for his appearing in glory.

In the New Testament we only read of two orders of priests-namely, Christ as the great High Priest in heaven, and the common priesthood of all believers on the earth. “Ye also, as lively stones, are built up a spiritual house, a holy priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices, acceptable to God by Jesus Christ.” (1 Pet. 2:5.) And, again, “Unto him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God and his Father.” (Rev. 1:5, 6.) These passages clearly prove the common standing of all believers as priests unto God. There is no mention in the New Testament of any peculiar class, or order of Christians, who hold the office of priests, as distinct from other Christians. Christ is the great High Priest, over the house of God, and all His people are, in virtue of their connection with Him, priests, and privileged to enter, as once-purged worshippers, into the holiest of all. Even the apostles never took the place of priests, as distinct from, or superior to, the humblest child of God. They might know their privileges better than many, and enjoy them more. Their gifts and callings, as to the ministry of the word, were distinct and special; but as worshippers they stood on the same ground as all others, and, together with them, worshipped God through Jesus Christ, the great High Priest of all His people.

In the priestly ministry of our blessed Lord there are many points of special interest; we only notice the two following:

1. As our great High Priest, He represents us in the sanctuary above. And, oh! what a Representative! God’s beloved Son, the glorified Man, whose name is above every name. “For Christ is not entered into the holy places made with hands, which are the figures of the true, but into heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God for us.” (Heb. 9:24.) Oh! what dignity! what nearness to God is ours! Oh! that our hearts appreciated it more! When Aaron appeared before the Lord, in his garments of glory and beauty, he represented the children of Israel. Their names were engraven in precious stones in the beautiful breastplate. Blessed type of our real and everlasting place—in the heart of Christ, who appears, not annually, like Aaron of old, but continually in the presence of God for us. The name of each believer is kept continually before the eye of God, in all the glory and beauty of Christ, His well-beloved Son. We stand in His righteousness, possess His life, enjoy His peace, are filled with His joy, and radiate His glory. Although without right, title, or privilege in ourselves, we have all in Him. He is there for us and as us. His name be forever praised.

“He stands in heaven their great High Priest,

And bears their names upon His breast.”

It is by His continual intercession in heaven that saints on earth are succored and sustained in their wilderness journey, and, at the same time, upheld as worshippers within the veil, in all the sweet fragrance of His own divine excellencies. And neither their ignorance, nor their lack of enjoyment of these things, alters or affects their blessed, glorious, and eternal reality. “Seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for them.’’ Heb. 7:25.

2. As our great High Priest, He presents to God the gifts and sacrifices of His worshipping people. Under the law the worshipper brought his offering to the priest, and by him it was presented to the Lord, on His own altar. Everything was arranged by the priest, according to the word of the Lord. How perfectly all this is done for the worshipper now by his High Priest in heaven! Our prayers, praises, and thanksgiving, all pass through His hands before they reach the throne of God. What a wonderful mercy this is, when we think of our confused and mixed services! So much that is of the flesh mingles with that which is of the Spirit. But the blessed Lord knows how to divide and separate between them. That which is of the flesh must be rejected and consumed as wood, hay, and stubble, while that which is of the Spirit is precious, preserved, and presented to God in the value and sweet savor of His own perfect sacrifice. “By Him therefore let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually, that is, the fruit of our lips, giving thanks unto His name.” (Heb. 13:15.) The kindness of the Philippians to Paul was “an odor of a sweet smell, a sacrifice acceptable, well pleasing to God.” Hence the importance of the exhortation, “Whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God and the Father by him.” Col. 3:17.

3. In the third place, we observe that the Christian’s only place of worship is inside the veil, “whither the forerunner is for us entered.” Outside the camp is his place as a witness; inside the veil is his place as a worshipper. In both positions Christ is surely with him. “Let us go forth therefore unto him without the camp, bearing his reproach” “Having therefore, brethren, boldness to enter into the holiest by the blood of Jesus.” (Heb. 13:13; 10:19.) To know these two positions in communion with Christ Himself, through the teaching of the Spirit, is unspeakable blessedness. The Church has no divinely-consecrated place of worship on earth. Our place is in heaven, in virtue of the sacrifice and of the priestly ministry of Christ there for us. Whatever may be the character of the building, in which Christians are gathered together in the name of the Lord Jesus, their true and only sphere of worship is the heavenly sanctuary. Through faith in God’s word, and by the power of His Holy Spirit, they worship Him in “the true tabernacle, which the Lord pitched and not man.”

Israel had “a worldly sanctuary,” and, accordingly, the character of their worship was worldly, “the way into the holiest of all was not yet made manifest, while as the first tabernacle was yet standing.” But the way has been opened up by the blood of Jesus. The same stroke that slew the Lamb rent the veil from top to bottom. The way into the holiest of all was then laid open, and Christ, with all His blood-washed ones, entered into the immediate presence of God without a veil. There is no outer court-worship now for the people, and temple-worship for the priest, as under the law. These distinctions are unknown in the Church of the living God. It is all priestly worship and temple worship now. All are equally near—all have equal liberty—all are equally acceptable, through the presence and intervention of the Great High Priest of His people. The same precious blood that cleansed us from all sin, has brought us near to God as children, and as worshipping priests. And if we really know the wondrous efficacy and power of that blood in the heavenly places, we shall be at home and happy there in all the liberty and dignity of sonship, and in all the official nearness and standing of once-purged worshippers, in the most holy place.

Oh! that our hearts may be kept in the sweet remembrance, knowledge, and power of the rich provisions of God’s grace for all our need! Oh! that we may never lose sight of the blood on the mercy-seat, the minister of the sanctuary, and of our holy, heavenly, and eternal place of worship. (From the preface to “Notes on Leviticus”)

“And hast made us unto our God, kings and priests.”—Rev. 5:10.

Sing hallelujah! praise the Lord!

Sing with a cheerful voice;

Exalt our God with one accord,

And in His name rejoice.

Ne’er cease to sing, thou ransom’d host;

Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,

Until in realms of endless light,

Your praises shall unite.

There we to all eternity

Shall join th’ angelic lays;

And sing in perfect harmony,

To God, our Saviour’s praise: “

He hath redeem’d us by His blood,

And made us kings and priests to God;’’

For us—for us the Lamb was slain.

Praise ye the Lord! Amen.

The New Creation: Part 1

It would effectually deliver the mind from a thousand perplexities, could we only get a clear sense of what is meant by that one expression, “A new creation” It would, at once, serve to show us the utter fruitlessness of attempting to mend the world, or to mend the old Adam nature. No one who had really entered into the sublime and precious doctrine involved in a new creation, could ever speak of “making the best of both worlds.” We might just as well speak of making the best of “an old garment” and “a new piece.” The two things are wholly incompatible; and, hence, the “best” you can “make” of them is but to “make the rent worse.” Man, in his religious wisdom, his pious philosophy, thinks he can combine the two; but Christ declares that to attempt to combine them, is to make the rent worse. Christ did not come to mend the old world, but to die and find a grave in it, that, by dying and rising again, He might take us clean out of the old world into the new. To make use of Christ and His gospel for the purpose of mending the old world or the old Adam nature, is one of Satan’s most crafty and subtle devices. It is a fatal snare into which thousands are, at this moment, falling.

I would ask my reader to open his Bible, at the third chapter of Genesis, and ponder these words, “So he drove out the man; and he placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life.” (ver. 24.) Here we find the old Adam nature driven clean out of Paradise, and not only so, but “every way” of returning thither closed against him. Old Adam could never eat of the tree of life. Old Adam could not make the best of both worlds. He had lost one altogether, and he had neither title nor capacity for another. By sin he was ruined as belonging to the old creation, and naught save death and resurrection could introduce him into the new. “If any man be in Christ he is a new creation” (2 Cor. 5) “In Christ Jesus, neither circumcision availeth anything, nor uncircumcision, but a new creation.” (Gal. 6) True Christianity presents “a new man” moving in “a new creation.” Spurious or false Christianity attempts to improve the old man and the old creation. In other words, it attempts to “put a new piece upon an old garment;” and, even though that “newpiece” be the profession of Christianity, yet do the words of Christ hold true, that “the rent is made worse.” Indeed, it will ever be found that, the newer or better the “piece,” the worse “the rent.” The worst “rent” that has ever yet been made is the result of tacking the name of Christ upon the old Adam nature. Satan’s masterpiece is to take up each “new piece” of divine revelation, and place it as a patch upon old Adam.

There is great power in the words, “turned every way.” There is no way in which the old nature can get life. It must die out of the old creation, and be quickened into the new. “God forbid that I should glory save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world.” (Gal. 6:14.) “Every way” is sedulously closed against fallen humanity. It must die. So the word of God declares. But the father of lies has, from the very outset, been seeking to set this simple truth aside. He knows what a potent instrument it is, and has therefore ever sought to hinder its action, by all means in his power. He is never better pleased than when he sees men, and particularly Christian men, digging and delving, in order to open a way for old Adam to get back to the tree of life. He has no objection to morality, to philanthropy, to religion. In a word, he will allow the very name of Christ to be tacked on to the old nature, in order to quash the grand truth of a “new creation.”

But it is all in vain. “The hand of God placed a flaming sword to turn a every way;” and the Holy Ghost, by the apostle, has set the sharp edge of His sword, for the same purpose, when He declares that, “Neither circumcision availeth anything, nor uncircumcision, but a new creation.” God’s “rule” for the old creation, and all pertaining thereto is, “death and resurrection.” Wherefore, it follows, that no work can be more fruitless than seeking to mend the world, or to mend the old nature. It cannot be done. The cross of Christ was not designed to mend the world or the flesh, but to crucify both the one and the other. When the Lord Jesus Christ lay in the silent tomb, there was an end of the old creation; and when He rose, it was as “the beginning, the first-begotten from among the dead”—the Head of the new creation.

Now, when Christ died, all the redeemed died with Him; when He was buried, all the redeemed were buried with Him; when He rose, all the redeemed rose with Him. Thus, it was in God’s view. The Head and members are one, and can never be separated. They belong to the new creation, in which “all things are of God.” There is not a single atom of the old Adam or his world, in the new creation, for if there were, it could not be said that “all things are of God.” It is not possible, therefore, to make the best of both worlds, seeing that, in the new world, there is not so much as a jot or tittle belonging—to the old; nor is there aught in the old world belonging to the new. The only question is, ‘Which shall we have?’ My reader is, at this moment, attached either to that world of which Satan is the god, or to that of which Christ is the Head. To make the best of the two is as impossible as to combine the sun’s meridian splendor with midnight’s gloom.

And, be it remembered, there is no middle ground. We cannot be half in the old creation, and half in the new. We must be wholly in the one or wholly in the other. If we are in the old creation, we have death and judgment before us. If we are in the new creation, we have death and judgment behind us. The old Adam must meet death and judgment. The flaming sword shuts him out from life, and shuts him up to death and judgment.

But my reader may feel disposed to ask, “How am I to pass out of the old creation into the new? “The answer is, by believing on the Lord Jesus Christ. “Verily, verily, I say unto you, he that heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation; but is passed from death unto life.” (John 5:24.) This is the way to pass into the new creation. It is done in a moment. Faith in God’s word connects the soul with Christ, and being connected with Christ, we are part and parcel of the new creation. A tree planted in Eden was part of the old creation; a soul planted in Christ, by faith, is part of the new.

This is very simple; and it is as precious as it is simple. There is not a single spot or stain of sin in the new creation. There is no wrath or judgment in the new creation. Satan’s arrows cannot reach us, nor his snares be laid, in the new creation. The grave is the boundary of Satan’s power; but the new creation begins at the other side of the grave. All our blessings, all our joys, all our dignities, all our privileges are in the new creation, and, therefore, lie far beyond the range of the enemy’s power. The Lord be praised for this blessed assurance! What full emancipation it gives from the things of earth and nature—from the old creation and all its belongings! Moreover, it gives such liberty and elevation, such holy fixedness and repose. To be able to say, “I belong to that new creation, wherein all things are of God,” is to know one’s entire deliverance from everything that could be against us. There is naught but absolute, divine, and eternal perfection in the new creation, and the very weakest believer is part and parcel thereof.

True it is, we are “Here in the body pent,” and “we that are in this tabernacle do groan, being burdened.” We bear about with us a body of sin and death, which is allied to the old creation, and must either crumble into dust, or be changed in a moment, at the coming of Christ; but this in no wise affects our position in the new creation. We may have to endure bodily pain, together with toil and conflict, in this wilderness world; but our standing is in the new creation. We are linked with One “who is the beginning” of all God’s ways in that new sphere in which we are called to “live, and move, and have our being.”

And, now, if it be asked, “What are the practical results of all this truth?” the apostle gives the answer; “If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God. Set your affection on things above not on things on the earth. For ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God.” (Col. 3:1-3.) Here, then, is the practical result. We are to “seek,” and “ set our affection upon things above.” How much is involved in the expression, “things above!” It furnishes us with a very simple rule, by which to measure everything that may be presented to us. We have only to ask, “Does this thing range itself under the head of ‘ things above?” Does it belong to the new creation? If not, I shall not seek or set my affection upon it. The apostle does not say, “Seeing now, that ye are saved, endeavor to make the best of both worlds.” Ah! no; Paul had no such idea as this. To him the cross of Christ was the boundary of the old creation, and a risen Christ the beginning of the new.

Thus it should be with each true believer. There is no exception. “Ye are dead.” Here is the end of the old creation. “Your life is hid with Christ in God.” Here is the beginning of the new. The rule is very simple where the heart is true to Christ; but, where the affection is set on “things on the earth,” a man will reason, and argue, and quote scripture in abundance, in defense of the most worldly practices and covetous designs. The Bible, alas! is often used to defend the practices of old Adam in the old world, and also to justify the Christian in his vain attempts to mend the old nature and the old creation. But, I repeat it, where the eye is single, the rule of “the new creation” is as simple as possible.

But some will say, “Must we not attend to our various callings?” Unquestionably. We have our new creation duties as well as our new creation privileges. The remainder of the Epistle to the Colossians sets forth the relationships and responsibilities connected with our new creation standing. Husbands and wives, parents and children, masters and servants are all recognized and instructed. We can discharge the functions belonging to these several positions in the fullest harmony with our new standing in a risen Christ. We have ample guidance for every relationship in which, as Christians, we stand; nor should we be found in any position for which the Holy Ghost has not furnished us with instructions as to our conduct. The fact of His not having mentioned this or that position should be quite enough to show us that He never intended us to be found therein.

May the Lord lead us to understand this sublime and practical truth of the new creation, and give us power, in the Spirit to walk as those who belong to that high and holy sphere of being.

Christ and the Door

The question here raised is one of deep, personal importance to the sinner, namely, that of salvation. “Lord, are there few that be saved? “The Lord Jesus had spoken of the certainty of coming judgments on impenitent sinners, and on mere professors in the kingdom, however flourishing in appearance: “Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish.” (Luke 13:18, 19, 1-10.) This is truly solemn as coming from the lips of their own Messiah. “Ye shall.” If impenitency and mere formality be persisted in, there is no hope for the future: the soul must “perish.” What a dreadful thought is conveyed by that dreadful word “perish.” It means all is lost-forever lost! the soul perished—hope perished—all forever perished—body, soul, and spirit, in the place of woe. Oh! that careless sinners and mere professors would think on such things now, ere it is too late— ere the Master be risen up, and the door shut.

It is to such the gospel is preached, and preached by the same Jesus. “God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” (John 3:16.) Here the mere worldling is represented as perishing—, but not yet perished. Glorious Gospel! It perfectly meets the case; only listen to its voice, and believe its message of love, to thee, oh! perishing sinner. God loves the sinner; Christ died for the sinner—whosoever believes it, shall not perish, but have everlasting life. “God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” (Rom. 5:8.) Thus saith the word of the Lord!

The question here put, “Lord, are there few that be saved?” seems to be a merely curious or idle question, on the part of the one that asked it; such as unconverted men will sometimes ask about the doctrine of election. But the Lord, in His usual way, so answered it as to turn it into a serious one. What a lesson for us. He replied, so as to meet, not the question, but the real state of the man’s soul. As if the Lord said, Few or many, do you “strive to enter in at the strait gate.” That is your personal, all-important matter. “For many, I say unto you, will seek to enter in, and shall not be able.” “When once the master of the house is risen up, and hath shut to the door, and ye begin to stand without, and to knock at the door, saying, Lord, Lord, open unto us; and he shall answer and say unto you, I know you not whence ye are; then shall ye begin to say, We have eaten and drunk in thy presence, and thou hast taught in our streets. But he shall say, I tell you I know you not whence ye are; depart from me, all ye workers of iniquity.

Surely this is a solemn and searching reply, and well fitted to turn the curious into an anxious enquirer. The Lord, in His rich mercy, grant that it may do so in the case of many into whose hands this paper may fall. There are many who are still merely curious enquirers, whom we desire to see deeply anxious and earnest ones. Surely the salvation of the soul is of all others the most personal matter possible. The door is still open—the invitation is to all: “Come, for all things are now ready.” Enter while there is room. The Master is patiently waiting; Oh, delay not! “Strive to enter in at the strait gate.”

The connection, and strict interpretation, of this passage refer to the Jews. Christ was speaking to Jews, and of their then present privileges, and future miseries, because they were rejecting Him. He plainly showed them, that although their privileges had been great, such as eating and drinking in His presence, and hearing Him preach the gospel in their streets, still there was no salvation for them, and no entering the kingdom, while they refused to own Himself—receive Him as the true Messiah, and the only Saviour of sinners. He would at last say, “I know you not whence ye are: depart from me, all ye workers of iniquity.” Observe, He does not deny, that they enjoyed their privileges; but He repeats this awfully-solemn truth, “I know you not whence ye are.” They had never made themselves known to Him. They had never come to Himself, individually, as sinners to a Saviour. They knew their privileges, and boasted in them, but they refused Christ. “Ο Jerusalem, Jerusalem, which killest the prophets, and stonest them that are sent unto thee; how often would I have gathered thy children together, as a hen doth gather her brood under her wings, and ye would not.” Christ Himself was rejected. Israel would have none of Him. Therefore they were left desolate, like chickens without the sheltering wing, and the “fox” in the midst of them. Oh, what a picture of utter helplessness and certain destruction.

But although this portion of scripture, strictly speaking, refers to the Jews, it has, nevertheless, a most solemn voice to us. And, morally, it strikingly illustrates our own present position, and the condition of things all around.

Let us now look at the subject in its application to our own time. When Christ had finished the great work of redemption on the cross, He ascended up on high, and sat down at the right hand of God in heaven. His work being finished He sat down. “When he had by himself purged our sins, he sat down on the right hand of the Majesty on high.” (Heb. 1:3.) The sacrifice for sinners was offered and accepted, by which their need was fully met. God was glorified. The rights of His throne were vindicated, by the blood of the sacrifice sprinkled on the mercy-seat. All the perfections of His character were displayed in their full glory, and the principles of His moral government maintained. All being done,—perfectly, and forever done—the door of mercy is thrown wide open to the chief of sinners. The way into the holiest of all is made manifest. And the voice of gracious invitation goes forth into all the world—to every creature—whosoever will let him come and drink at the fountain of the water of life freely-given. God is free to receive to Himself, and pardon with overflowing love, all who come to Him by faith in the finished work of His dear Son. Thus we have, glory be to God, at this present moment,

A SEATED CHRIST,—AN OPEN DOOR.

And whosoever will may come to Him, in the full confidence of the Father’s perfect love, and the Son’s finished work for them. All in heaven is favorable to the sinner who thus comes.

There need be no doubts, no fears, no trembling. To enter the open door in the faith of Christ,—simply trusting to the work which He has accomplished for us, is to enter heaven,—how? In what condition, think you? O, wondrous truth! It is to enter heaven in the full credit of Christ Himself. It is to cross the threshold-pass through the pearly gates-walk up the golden street, right to the throne of God; and stand in the pure light of that throne, in all the perfectness, and acceptableness of Christ Himself. To find fault with the believing sinner there, would be to find fault with Him who sits upon the throne. He stands there, not in his own right or title, but in the rights and titles of Christ. “Today,” said the dying Jesus to the believing thief, “shalt thou be with me in paradise.” Not only, observe, in paradise, but “with me.” O, that precious, “with me,” It defines, so sweetly, where the departed spirit is—where heaven is,—and what heaven is. It is just to be with Christ. Now, we are by faith “in Christ Jesus;” by and by we shall be personally “with Him.” In our bodies of glory we shall be forever with the Lord. 1 Thess. 4:17.

But as to the immediate results—the present condition of all who believe in Jesus, the following passage is clear and decided, “For Christ also hath once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God.” (1 Pet. 3:18.) This is the full gospel of the grace of God. There is no missing link in this gospel. The believer, in virtue of the sufferings and death of Christ, is brought to God in Him. Not only to the cross, but to the throne. Not merely into a place, but unto a person. He can never get better, —he can never get higher than this. Oh! wondrous truth! Brought to God, in the condition of Christ! In the condition of His life—righteousness—peace—preciousness—perfectness—and glory! “Because as he is, so are we in this world.” (1 John 4:17.) This passage clearly expresses the believer’s vital union,—real oneness, with Christ, and that he stands, even now, at this present time, in all His completeness, in the presence of God. And is it, my reader may ask, to all this blessedness, that the open door leads? Yes, dear reader, to all this wondrous, present blessedness! And while Christ is seated at God’s right hand, the door stands wide open night and day. Entering in by the strait gate, simply means, coming in faith to Jesus—conversion—reconciliation to God, through faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. Oh, then, enter now! Tomorrow may be too late—the Master may be risen up, and the door shut against you forever.

Alas! that any should prefer present things to coming to Jesus! —that any should need to be entreated to come to Him. What can be more encouraging—more inviting than—a seated Christ—an open door? The present position of Christ, assures the sinner that the work is finished. There is no ground for perplexity. The work required by God, and needed by the sinner, is done—perfectly done, and accepted by God for the sinner. The divine proof of this, is, a seated Christ—an open door. There, the blessed Jesus waits in patient love, to receive to Himself all who come by faith. And this glorious word, “Him that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out,” He has sent forth into all the ends of the earth, that every doubt may be dispelled. Oh, then, tell me, ye trembling, troubled, doubting— unhappy ones— where is there the smallest ground for all your fears, as to your acceptance? Certainly, it is not in the love of God—the work of Christ— the witness of the Holy Ghost—the open door—or, in the patient, waiting One. It can only be in the unbelief of your own hearts. For, surely, the work of Christ is finished—God is satisfied, and well pleased in Him—sin has been put away—the power of Satan destroyed—death vanquished—the grave spoiled—and Christ, the mighty Victor, seated in triumph on the right hand of heaven’s Majesty, waiting for sinners to be gathered to Him, that they may adorn His crown, and reflect his glory, throughout the countless ages of eternity. “Now, the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that ye may abound in hope through the power of the Holy Ghost.” Rom. 15:13.

We will now glance, very briefly, at the second part of our subject, namely,

A RISEN CHRIST—Α SHUT DOOR.

The Lord solemnly assures us, that the moment His position is changed, the door is shut; and that there would be no hope for those who were outside, who had refused to enter by the strait gate. The position of the door depends entirely upon the position of the Master. While He is seated, the door is open; but when He is risen up, the door is shut. “When once the master of the house is risen up, and hath shut to the door, and ye begin to stand without, and to knock at the door, saying, Lord, Lord, open to us; and he shall answer and say unto you, I know you not whence ye are.” It was those who had enjoyed the greatest privileges, such as eating and drinking in the Lord’s presence, and hearing Him teach, that were hopelessly shut out. They might seek to get in at the shut door, but there was no admittance for them. “For many, I say unto you, shall seek to enter in, and shall not be able.” The seeking here, and the not being able to enter, do not refer to the strait gate, but entirely to the shut door. So it may have been in the days of Noah. Those who refused to enter the ark through the preaching of Noah, could not get in after the door was shut. They might seek, and seek earnestly, pleadingly, and touchingly, as they saw the waters rising on the earth, but it was too late, God had shut the door and none could open it. They had despised the day of His long-suffering grace, although He had waited a hundred and twenty years for them, but a day of solemn reckoning came at last, and there was no escaping. They might see the ark of God’s salvation rising securely on the swelling deep, but there was no refuge for them. Some might flee from one summit to another, but the raging billows pursued after them, until the highest summit was reached, and every mountain swept by the black waters of judgment.

Surely, dear reader, there is something peculiarly and especially solemn, in the truth “here stated by the Lord. Does it not plainly teach us, that the doom of all would be sealed forever, who have refused to come to Him by the open door, were He, at this moment, to change His position? Assuredly it does. “When once the master of the house is risen up, and hath shut to the door,” &c. All depends upon this. How solemn! Were He to arise today, where would you be? on which side of the door? The question is not, ‘I am young, in good health, and may live many years.’ Oh, no! but in a moment when we think not, the master may rise up, shut the door, and what then? If outside the door, amongst those who have deliberately refused to come in, all hope is lost. He is “the master of the house;” “he openeth and no man shutteth, and shutteth and no man openeth.”

And now, in conclusion, let me faithfully and affectionately warn my dear reader, not to rest in privileges. Privileges, however great, are not Christ. These can never save the soul. He only can. Have you—oh, have you, come to Himself! Have you ever spoken to Himself about your condition as a sinner, and His grace and love as the Saviour, in dying for you? Oh! let me again ask you, have you come to Himself? Have you had to do with Himself, in the secret of His own presence? Your precious opportunities may be near an end. Who can tell how soon the Master may rise up. Is He not now gathering souls in great numbers, and filling His house rapidly? May it not be nearly full? Oh, delay not while the door is open, enter in, and be at rest. “The master calleth thee” and every poor blinded sinner. Why refuse? “Come unto me,” are His own words of gracious invitation, and His sure promise is, “ I will give you rest.” Do, then, oh, do, come to Jesus. “Strive to break away from everything that would hinder thee coming. “Strive to enter in by the strait gate.” Oh, let nothing hinder thee. Come to Jesus. He is worth more to thy soul, than the whole world a thousand times over. Only think, then, of the precious Jesus. Oh, how precious He is, and at once come to Him. The companionship of Jesus, the fellowship of the holy, the bright glories of heaven, and the unutterable torments of hell are set before thee. Oh! which is it to be? Canst thou hesitate for a moment? Choose, oh! choose at once, as the portion of thy heart, that blessed One who has waited so long, and so patiently for thee. Rest on His finished work for thee. Let Him have thy whole heart, and be eternally happy in His changeless love.

Jerusalem and Cyprus

(Acts 13:13 and 15: 38, 39.)

The four gospels furnish a narrative of the acts of the Lord Jesus Christ; and, in the Acts of the Apostles, we have a narrative of the acts of God the Holy Ghost who came down on the day of Pentecost, and has been laboring here ever since. The Lord Jesus acted in His own immediate Person: the Holy Ghost acted in the Apostles and others; and, in this way, we have, frequently to bear in mind, as we pass along the inspired missionary record, the infirmity and failure of the various instruments who, though used of God, were, in themselves, feeble men. And not only have we to take into account the infirmity of man, but also the hostile influence of surrounding circumstances, as used of Satan, for the purpose of hindering the work, and cramping and ensnaring the workmen. Thus, the study of the Acts is most interesting and practical. In it, we have men and things, localities and their influences looked at, and presented by the Holy Ghost, with direct reference to the great work which He was, at that time, and still is carrying on.

At the close of the twelfth chapter of Acts, we read, “And Barnabas and Saul returned from Jerusalem, when they had fulfilled their ministry, and took with them John whose surname was Mark.” In the next chapter, we find this same John Mark accompanying Paul and Barnabas, on a mission, and continuing with them, during their sojourn in the Island of Cyprus; but on their leaving that and proceeding “to Perga in Pamphylia,” we read that “John departing from them returned unto Jerusalem.” (Chap. 13:13.) Home influences, as well as religious privileges, would, no doubt, attract the heart of John Mark, and induce him to abandon the arduous path of missionary labor. In chap. 12 we read of “the house of Mary, the mother of John, whose surname was Mark; where many were gathered together praying.”

Here, we have the two things, namely, the power of natural affection, and the rare spiritual attraction of Christian fellowship. Need we wonder that John Mark vastly preferred a prayer meeting in his mother’s house at Jerusalem, to the hardships of a mission in Pamphylia or Pisidia? Ah! my dear reader, the heart is but too well able to understand the preference. There was a vast difference between a comfortable home—regular habits—a mother’s love and care—the peaceful charms of well-ordered domestic life, and all the roughness, severity, and hardship of a precarious missionary tour. Furthermore, there was a striking contrast, indeed, between an assembly of loving and united Christian friends gathered for prayer, in the city of Jerusalem, and a synagogue of bigoted Jews, at Antioch, or a fickle mob at Lystra of Lycaonia.

However, the judgment which we form of the actings of John Mark will entirely depend on the point of view from which we contemplate them. In the judgment of mere nature, in its amiability or even in its religiousness, there was nothing reprehensible but in the judgment of a well-girt, single-eyed servant of Christ, he was all wrong. It is very evident that Barnabas and Paul looked at Mark’s conduct from those opposite points. A passage in Acts 15 proves this very clearly. “And some days after, Paul said unto Barnabas, Let us go again and visit our brethren in every city where we have preached the word of the Lord, and see how they do. And Barnabas determined to take with them John, whose surname was Mark. But Paul thought not good to take him with them, who departed from them from Pamphylia, and went not with them to the work. And the contention was so sharp between them, that they departed asunder one from the other: and so Barnabas took Mark, and sailed unto Cyprus.” Thus we see that Mark, by yielding to the attractive influences of his home at Jerusalem, not only abandoned the work, but also snapped the link between two workmen.

But whether was Paul or Barnabas in the right? The sequel answers. “Paul chose Silas and departed, being recommended by the brethren unto the grace of God. And he went through Syria and Cilicia, confirming the churches.” We hear nothing of Barnabas being recommended to the grace of God, or of his confirming the churches. In fact, his name never again appears in the inspired missionary record. He took his nephew (Col. 4:10.) with him and sailed to Cyprus, where, upon his first starting on the Christian course, he had sold his land. (Acts 4:36.) All this is full of meaning—full of deep and solemn instruction—replete with salutary warning for everyone, who desires to pursue a path of thorough devotedness to Christ and His service. The voice which it utters is distinctly this— “Beware how you allow home influences, nature’s soft and enervating attractions, or even spiritual advantages, to draw you off from the stern realities of active labor in the vineyard of Christ.” Jerusalem and Cyprus had charms for John Mark and his uncle Barnabas—charms sufficiently powerful to allure them from the side of that ever earnest, ever harnessed workman, Paul.

But some may say, “Could not Barnabas and Mark serve the Lord at Jerusalem or Cyprus as well as at Perga or Antioch?” Assuredly. Paul himself, as we know, served in both these places. But was it the service of Christ that led Mark back to Jerusalem, or “Barnabas back to Cyprus? This is the question. Let the spiritual reader answer it, in the light of the Acts of the Apostles. One thing is plain—they both traveled out of the current of the Spirit’s action, and their names never again appear in the inspired annals of missionary labor. True, they were both children of God and servants of Christ. Barnabas “was a good man, and full of the Holy Ghost and of faith;” and, as to Mark, we find some touching allusions to him in Paul’s epistles, which would warrant the conclusion that he had somewhat regained his place in the apostle’s heart. “Aristarchus, my fellow-prisoner, saluteth you, and Marcus, sister’s son to Barnabas, (touching whom ye received commandments,) if he come unto you receive him.” (Col. 4:10.) And again, “Take Mark and bring him with thee, for he is profitable unto me for the ministry.” 2 Tim. 4:11.

It is also well worthy of notice, that the Holy Ghost should have selected Mark as His instrument to write that Gospel, which so especially presents Christ as the true Workman—the faithful Minister—the self-denying Servant —the One whom no influence whatever could move a single hair’s breadth from the straight line of devotedness to God and His work. Doubtless, a more enlarged communion with that only perfect Servant, had rendered Mark “profitable for the ministry,” so that Paul could say to his devoted son Timothy, “Take Mark, and bring him with thee.” Lovely picture! Precious fruit of divine grace on all sides! The Lord had raised up Timothy to be a faithful yokefellow for Paul when both Mark and Barnabas bad forsaken him; and now Timothy is commanded to take this Mark and bring him to Paul, as a profitable help in the ministry. Such are the marvelous ways of grace!

Ο for deeper and more abiding communion with the blessed Master! May we live near to Him! May we drink into His spirit, and walk in His footsteps! Then shall we be raised above every influence that would tend to withdraw us from His service, whether that influence arise from Jerusalem or Cyprus. May we be enabled, by the grace of the Holy Spirit, to gird on the harness, and go forth in whole-hearted devotedness to Christ, and His cause! The Lord, in His great mercy, grant it! May we be “profitable for the ministry,” in some small degree! Let us aim at a higher character of devotedness than ever we have exhibited, Jesus is worthy of the supreme place in our heart’s affections. If, therefore, His service calls us to endure hardness and roughness, privation and trial, let us not sigh after the attractions of Jerusalem or Cyprus. Let neither nature nor earth entangle us; but may our language ever be-

“Were the whole realm of nature mine,

That were an offering far too small,

Love so amazing, so divine,

Demands my heart, my life, my all.”

A Profitable Mixture

“The word preached did not profit them, not being mixed with faith in them that heard.” Heb. 4:2.

We feel it very needful, just now, to press upon the attention of our readers the authority and value of the word of God, together with the efficacy of faith in that word, apart from, and above, all human thoughts and feelings, reasonings and speculations, traditions and dogmas. We do not know that we could more effectually serve the souls of men than by seeking to raise in their estimation the pure word of God, as that which alone can give divine fixedness to all their convictions, and stability to their character and course. There is not, in all the world, a more precious and profitable mixture, than that which is made up of faith and the word of God. Very many seem to put feeling in the place of faith. This is a mistake. The apostle does not speak of mixing the word of God with feeling, but with faith. The word of God is sufficient of itself, if simply believed, to give peace to the heart. If I must add feeling to that word, in order to make it efficacious, then, instead of making it efficacious, I make it null and void.

Take an example. God has declared (Gen. 9) that He will not again destroy the earth by a flood. Do I need to add feeling to this, in order to assure me of its truth? Is not the divine statement quite sufficient, when believed, to set the heart at rest, with respect to another deluge? Assuredly it is; and hence, were it to rain in torrents for months together, the heart would never be troubled with a single anxious thought on the subject. Well, “the same word” that assures me that the world will never again be “overflowed with water,” declares that it is “reserved unto fire.” The one is as true as the other. Human feelings have nothing whatever to do with either. The word of God is the authority for both, and that word only needs to be “mixed with faith” in order that it may “profit” the soul.

Thus it is, in reference to “every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of the Lord.” It only needs to be “mixed with faith.” It does not need our feelings in order to make it true; it is true in itself. Every word of God is true, and faith receives it as such. Feeling is not the foundation of faith. The word of God is the foundation, and feeling is merely a fruit. God tells me I am a lost sinner; I believe. God tells me that Christ came to save such; I believe. God tells me that Christ died and rose again the third day; I believe. God tells me that all who believe that Christ died and rose again “have eternal life,” and “are justified from all things;” (John 5:24; Acts 13:39.) I believe. God tells me that being justified by faith, I have peace; (Rom. 5:1.) I believe. God tells me that “if any man be in Christ he is a new creation;” (2 Cor. 5:17.) I believe. God tells me that I am crucified, dead, buried, and risen with Christ; (Eph. 2:5, 6; Col. 2:11-13; 3:1-3.) I believe. What more do I want? Shall I look in upon my poor faltering heart and fluctuating feelings, in order to find something which will confirm, substantiate, and render efficacious, the word of the living and true God? Alas! this is precisely what thousands are doing, and herein lies the secret of the sickly Christianity so prevalent on all hands. The precious mixture of Heb. 4:2, has been tampered with. One of the ingredients has been removed, and a spurious material put in its place. “The word preached” is “mixed with” feeling instead of “faith” and hence it cannot “profit.”

Perfect Peace

“Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee.” Isa. 26:3.

A mind at “perfect peace” with God;—

Ο what a word is this!

A sinner reconciled through blood;—

This, this indeed is peace!

So nigh, so very nigh to God,

I cannot nearer be;

For, in the person of His Son,

I am as near as He.

So dear, so very dear to God,

More dear I cannot be;

The love wherewith He loves the Son;—

Such is His love to me!

Why should I ever careful be,

Since such a God is mine?

He watches o’er me night and day,

And tells me “mine is thine.”

Self-Emptiness

The fullness of God ever waits upon an empty vessel. This is a grand practical truth, very easily stated, but involving a great deal more than one might, at first sight, imagine. The entire Book of God illustrates this truth. The history of the people of God illustrates it; and the experience of each believer illustrates it. Whether we study the Book of God, or the ways of God—His ways with all—His ways with each, we have this most precious truth, that “the fullness of God ever waits on an empty vessel.”

This holds good with respect to the sinner, in his first coming to Christ; and it holds good with respect to the believer, at every stage of his career, from the starting post to the goal.

1. In the first place, as regards the sinner in his first coming to Christ, what is this but the fullness of God, in redeeming love and pardoning mercy, waiting upon an empty vessel? The real matter is to get the sinner to take the place of an empty vessel. Once there, the whole question is settled. But, ah! what exercise, what struggling, what toil, what conflict, what fruitless efforts, what ups and downs, what vows and resolutions, in hundreds and thousands of cases, ere the sinner is really brought to take the place of an empty vessel, and he filled with God’s salvation! How marvelously difficult it is to get the poor legal heart emptied of its legality, that it may be filled with Christ! It will have something of its own to lean upon and cling to. Here lies the root of the difficulty. We can never “draw water from the wells of salvation” until we come thither with empty vessels.

This is difficult work. Many spend years of legal effort ere they reach the grand moral point of self-emptiness, even in its reference to the simple question of righteousness before God. When once they have reached that point, the matter is found to be so simple that the wonder is how they could have spent so long in getting hold of it, and why they had never got hold of it before. There is never any difficulty found, when the sinner really takes the ground of self-emptiness. The question, “Who shall deliver me?” is sure to be followed immediately by the reply, “I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord.” Rom. 7.

Now, it will always be found that the more completely the sinner gets emptied of himself, the more settled his peace will be. If self and its doings, its feelings and its reasonings, be not emptied out, there will assuredly be doubts and fears, ups and downs, wavering and fluctuation, seasons of darkness and cloudiness afterward. Hence the vital importance of seeking to make a clean riddance of self, so that Christ, “the fullness of the Godhead bodily,” may be known and enjoyed. It is the one who can most truthfully and experimentally say,

“I’m a poor sinner and nothing at all,”

that can also adopt as his own that additional line,

“But Jesus Christ is my all in all.”

It is ever thus. A full Christ is for an empty sinner, and an empty sinner for a full Christ. They are morally fitted to each other; and the more I experience the emptiness, the more I shall enjoy the fullness. So long as I am full of self-confidence, so long as I am full of trust in my morality, my benevolence, my amiability, my religiousness, my righteousness, I have no room for Christ. All these things must be thrown overboard, ere a full Christ can be apprehended. It cannot be partly self and partly Christ. It must be either the one or the other; and one reason why so many are tossed up and down “in dark uncertainty” is, because they are still cleaving to some little bit of self. It may be a very little bit. They may not, perhaps, be trusting in any works of righteousness that they have done; but still there is something of self-retained and trusted in. It may be the very smallest possible atom of the creature-its state, its feelings, its mode of appropriating, its experiences, something or other of the creature kept in which keeps Christ out. In short, it must be so, for if a full Christ were received, a full peace would be enjoyed; and if a full peace be not enjoyed, it is only because a full Christ has not been received. This makes the matter as simple as possible.

Reader, do you fully understand this? Have you, as an empty sinner, come to Christ to be filled with His fullness, to be satisfied with His all-sufficiency, to find the solid rest of your heart and conscience in Him alone? Say, are you, now, fully satisfied with Christ? I earnestly pray you to get this point settled, now. Is Christ enough for your heart, enough for your conscience, enough for your whole moral being? See that you make earnest, real, hearty work of it now. Are you resting wholly in Christ? Which is it, Christ alone, or Christ and something else? Are you, in some secret chamber of your heart, hiding a little fragment of legality—some little atom of creature confidence—some element of self-righteousness? If so, you cannot enjoy true gospel peace. It cannot be. Gospel peace is the result of receiving a full Christ into a heart that has learned its own emptiness. Christ is our peace. True peace is not a mere feeling in the mind. It is found in a divine, living, real Person, even Christ Himself, who, having made peace by the blood of His cross, has become oar peace in the presence of God. This peace can never be disturbed, inasmuch as He who is our peace, is “the same, yesterday, today, and forever.” (Heb. 13) Were it a mere feeling in the mind, it would prove as variable as the mercury in a barometer. If I am occupied with my feelings, I am not self-emptied, and, as a consequence, I cannot know the joy and peace which flow from being occupied only with Christ, for the fullness of God ever waits upon an empty vessel.

Thus much as to the application of our thesis to the case of a sinner in his first coming to Christ.

2. Let us, now, see how it applies to a believer at every stage of his career. This is a deeply practical branch of the subject. We have very little idea at times of bow full we are of self and the world. Hence it is that in one way or another, we have to be emptied from vessel to vessel. Like Jacob of old, we struggle hard, and hold fast our confidence in the flesh, until at length the source of our strength is dried up, and the ground of our confidence swept from under us, and then we are constrained to cry out,

“Other refuge have I none,

Clings my helpless soul to Thee.”

There can be no greater barrier to our peace and habitual enjoyment of God than our being filled with self-confidence. “We must be emptied and humbled. God cannot divide the house with the creature. It is vain to expect it. Jacob had the hollow of his thigh touched, in order that he might learn to lean upon God. The halting Jacob found his sure resource in Jehovah, who only empties us of nature that we may be filled with Himself. He knows that just in so far as we are filled with self-confidence, or creature-confidence, we are robbed of the deep blessedness of being filled with His fullness. Hence, in His great grace and mercy, He empties us out, that we may learn to cling, in childlike confidence, to Him. This is our only place of strength, of victory, and repose.

Someone has said, “I never was truly happy until I ceased to wish to be great.” This is a fine moral truth. “When we cease to wish to be anything, when we are content to be nothing, then it is we taste what true greatness—true elevation—true happiness—true peace, really is. The restless desire to be something or somebody, is destructive of the soul’s tranquility. The proud heart and ambitious spirit may pronounce this a poor, low, mean, contemptible sentiment; but ah! when we have taken our place on the forms of the school of Christ-when we have begun to learn of Him who was meek and lowly in heart-when we have drunk, in any measure, into the spirit of Him who made Himself of no reputation, we then see things quite differently. “He that humbleth himself shall be exalted.” The way to get up is to go down. This is the doctrine of Christ, the doctrine which fell from His lips and is inscribed on His life. “And Jesus called a little child unto him, and set him in the midst of them, and said, verily, I say unto you, except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven. Whosoever, therefore, shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” (Matt. 18:2-4.) This is the doctrine of heaven—the doctrine of self-emptiness. How unlike to all that obtains down here in this scene of self-seeking and self-exaltation!

We have, in the person of John the Baptist, a fine example of one who entered, in some degree, into the real meaning of self-emptiness. The Jews sent priests and Levites from Jerusalem to ask him, “Who art thou? What sayest thou of thyself?” What was his reply? A self-emptied one. He said he was just “a voice.” This was taking his true place. “A voice” had not much to glory in. He did not say, “I am one crying in the wilderness.” No; he was merely “the voice of one.” He had no ambition to be anything more. This was self-emptiness. And, observe the result. He found his engrossing object in Christ. “Again the next day after John stood, and two of his disciples; and looking upon Jesus as he walked, he saith, Behold the Lamb of God!” What was all this, but the fullness of God waiting on an empty vessel! John was nothing, Christ was all; and hence, when John’s disciples left his side to follow Jesus, we may feel assured that no murmuring word, no accent of disappointed ambition or wounded pride escaped his lips. There is no envy or jealousy in a self-emptied heart. There is nothing touchy, nothing tenacious, about one who has learned to take his true place. Had John been seeking his own things, he might have complained when he saw himself abandoned; but, ah! my reader, when a man has found his satisfying object in “the Lamb of God,” he does not care much about losing a few disciples.

We have a further exhibition of the Baptist’s self-emptied spirit in the third chapter of John. “And they came unto John, and said unto him, Rabbi, he that was with thee beyond Jordan, to whom thou barest witness, behold, the same baptizeth, and all come to him.” Here was a communication quite calculated to draw out the envy and jealousy of the poor human heart. But mark the reply, the noble reply, of the Baptist: “A man can receive nothing, except it be given him from heaven......He must increase, but I must decrease. He that cometh from above is above all; he that is of the earth is earthly, and speaketh of the earth: he that cometh from heaven is ABOVE ALL.” Precious testimony this! A testimony to his own utter nothingness, and Christ’s fullness, glory, and peerless excellence! “A voice” was “nothing.” Christ was “high over all.”

Oh! for a self-emptied spirit— “A heart at leisure from itself” — a mind delivered from all anxiety about one’s own things! May we be more thoroughly delivered from self in all its detestable windings and workings! Then could the Master use us, own us, and bless us. Hearken to His testimony to John—the one who said of himself that he was nothing but a voice. “Verily I say unto you, among them that are born of women there hath not risen a greater than John the Baptist.” (Matt. 11:11.) How much better to hear this from the Master than from the servant! John said, “I am a voice.” Christ said he was the greatest of prophets. Simon Magus “gave out that himself was some great one.” Such is the way of the world-the manner of man. John the Baptist, the greatest of prophets, gave out that himself was nothing-that Christ was “above all,” What a contrast!

May we be kept lowly and self-emptied, that we be continually filled with Christ. This is true—true blessedness. May the language of our hearts, and the distinct utterance of our lives ever be, “Behold the Lamb of God.”

The Work of God Amongst Children

In substance, the following appeal has been made to us from different quarters. “You have ceased, of late, to take any notice of the Revival. We do wish that you would give, at times, some account of the Lord’s work. These accounts do so stir us up.” In reply to the above appeal, we would observe that nothing, save a deep sense of real service to the Lord and blessing to his people, and to others through them, would lead us to comply with the request. But believing that these ends may be served now, as of old, (see Luke 8:38, 39, 47) by publishing the great goodness of the Lord to precious souls, we give our impression of what we believe to be the present aspect of the work of God amongst us.

In the back numbers, or in the volume for 1859, a very full statement will be found of the leading features and fruits of the work of God’s Spirit in Ireland during that period. Since then, the work has been more widely spread, and somewhat different in its appearance. Still, blessed be God, the work goes on. Beyond all question, there is a real, deep, and blessed work of God’s Spirit going on, amongst all classes, at this present time in many parts of Christendom; and in many places in our own country, at this moment, a large number of souls are, as it were, waiting, and ready to be brought in through the preaching of the gospel. The evangelist has only to enter the field, sustained by the faith and prayers of God’s people, and a large ingathering must be the result. Many a locality, we believe, is in precisely this state. “The fields are white for the harvest.” Oh! for more laborers! May the Lord increase the faith and expectations of His people—the number and devotion of His evangelists!

Since we last referred to the Revival, we have observed a very distinct and special work of God’s Spirit amongst children and young people, chiefly from the age of nine to sixteen; but, in some cases as young as six. Let us take, for example, the first six months of the present year; and, oh! what a blessed change has been wrought in many families and schools during that period. Many a large family in England, and many a school which commenced this year with scarcely one of their number truly converted, are now, with very few exceptions, savingly brought to Jesus and made happy in Him. We know many blessed instances of His precious grace. The Lord alone be praised!

For the strengthening of the faith, and for the encouraging of the hearts, of those who are interested in children and young people, we give a few instances of the Lord’s marvelous grace and goodness to such; and may many be led thereby to count upon Him in faith, “nothing wavering.” He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things.” (Rom. 8:32.) Let this precious promise be, as it were, our motto, and the foundation of our faith. It is divine reasoning. He who has given the greater will surely give the lesser blessing. He who, in love, gave up His Son for us, will, in due time, make good His promise and more than answer the prayer of faith. What the human mind intensely desires, it is apt to become impatient to obtain. In the things of God, this spirit is inconsistent with faith in Him. As an affectionate mother has observed, “When feeling particularly anxious and depressed in spirit, on one occasion, about one who was everything to me but the main thing, that word came with great power to my heart, ‘Why art thou cast down, Ο my soul? and why art thou disquieted within me? Hope thou in God, for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance and my God’s (Psalm 43:5.) Oh! that word, ‘I shall yet praise him,’ was sweet and comforting to my soul. Every doubt vanished, and I could praise the Lord even then.” “Have you faith?” we asked a godly man lately, when desiring prayer for a near and dear, but unconverted one. “Oh, yes! I have no doubt,” was his instant reply, “the thirty-seventh psalm stays my heart.” “Delight thyself also in the Lord, and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart. Commit thy way unto the Lord; trust also in him, and he shall bring it to pass.” That word, “And he shall bring it to pass, is enough, He will bring it to pass.” This is God-honoring faith. May it be given to many at this present time!

One of the happy features of God’s present work amongst the young, is its general, as well as its special, character. Not infrequently, when one or two in a family, or in a school, have been blessed, the blessing has spread throughout the circle into which it entered. This has been so generally the case that, when we see two, three, or more affected, especially in a school, where they are all nearly one age, we quite count upon the entire school being immediately impressed, and if there has been any difference in this respect between boys’ and girls’ schools, we would say it has been most manifest in boys. This same diffusive power of the Holy Spirit has been manifested in Sunday Schools also, where there is less knowledge of each other, and less sympathy, than either in families or boarding schools. Take one example, as proof that there is more in this aspect of the work than the mere sympathies of kindred and affectionate hearts.

In a country town, some distance from London, the teacher, who had the eldest boys in his class, was feeling much depressed, one Lord’s day afternoon, because of the dull and lifeless state of things in the school. Having heard what was doing elsewhere, he spoke very solemnly to his own class as to their careless, dangerous state. He then called upon them to repent and to turn to the Lord just now, and He would have mercy upon them. While thus earnestly addressing them, he observed some of them much moved and in tears. In a short time, the whole class was in deep concern about their sins. They turned round, fell on their knees weeping, and cried for mercy. All this, observe, was confined to the one class; the other classes were going on as usual; but the blessed Spirit of God was at work throughout the school, and in a little while the whole school was in a state of great emotion. Many were weeping, praying, and crying aloud for mercy; so much so that their cries were heard outside the school, and people who were passing by drew near to learn what was the matter. About eighteen found peace in believing that afternoon. Amongst the number were three boys, brothers, the sons of a widowed mother. Being a Christian, she felt the difficulty and responsibility of her charge; but the Lord thus wonderfully appeared both for her and them. As she said herself, “They left me, as usual, after dinner for the school, careless and thoughtless about their souls, but they returned to me before tea-time saved by grace and rejoicing in the Lord Jesus as their Saviour. The eldest is about fifteen.” The good work continued, more were converted, and some happy fruits followed to the Lord’s glory.

Take one other family example of the spreading power of the Holy Spirit in blessing. On the Friday evening, the eldest of seven attended the preaching of the gospel. She had been a believer before that time, but not quite happy. The Lord gave full liberty to her soul, that evening, through the knowledge of the work of Christ for her. A younger member of the family also was present, and got blessing. They both left the building happy in Jesus. This new joy in the Lord, and the knowledge of a present salvation, were carried by these living witnesses into the family. On the following evening, other members of the family were present at a meeting, and became decided for Christ. They left, trusting in him. On Lord’s-day afternoon, when the young were addressed, another of the family was brought to the knowledge of Christ, and went home rejoicing. In the evening, the seven were present. They all remained to the prayer meeting after the preaching. At the close of the meeting, we found that five out of the seven had found peace with God, and were quite happy in Him. But, the other two, what about them? There they stood, both young, and evidently concerned, but had not yet seen Jesus as the Lover and Saviour of their souls. What was to be done? Were they to be left outside, as it were, unhappy? “Oh, no,” said a brother, “let us continue in prayer, and cry to the Lord for these two dear boys, and He will give us the whole seven. We must have the perfect number.” Prayer was recommenced. The five were exhorted to plead in silence for the two. We all kneeled down. It was a touching scene, never to be forgotten. There was much deep feeling and earnestness. Much might be said about it; but, enough. The Lord heard and answered prayer. The complete number confessed their faith in Christ, amidst much joy of heart and praise to the Lord. To His name alone be all the glory!

We shall now look at some instances of the same character of grace to schools. Several young person’s belonging to one school were much impressed one Lord’s day afternoon under an address to the young, but did not show much feeling at the time. There was no opportunity for prayer and conversation after the address, and they left without giving expression to what was passing within; but the work was of God. Their impressions deepened. On Monday morning, when all were assembled, nearly thirty in number, two or three gave way to their feelings. They could suppress them no longer. Much weeping and the confession of sin commenced. The chords of many hearts were easily touched; and so general was the awakening, that in a short time the whole school was in a state of deep emotion. Nearly all of them were weeping and praying to the Lord for the forgiveness of their sins and the salvation of their souls. About fifteen confessed to have found peace the same morning. On conversing with them individually twenty-four hours after this scene, nearly the whole school confessed to be resting in Christ alone for salvation. Six or seven of the number were believers before this, but even to them it was like a second conversion. Such are God’s ways in grace and love amongst the young at this present time. Oh! for more faith to count upon Him for their conversion and more believing prayer when we lead our children and young people to hear the gospel, or to the place where prayer is made for them.

On another, and a similar occasion, when several schools and families were congregated in a large Town-hall to hear an address to the young, it was observed that many were affected. Several, both boys and girls, belonging to different establishments were weeping, and in concern about their souls. Being in the afternoon on a Lord’s day, and having very little time for conversation, it was proposed to leave that until the following day. The most convenient time having been named, the various establishments were visited. Jesus—His love—His grace—His cross—His salvation—His glory, was the theme of conversation; and just as we had seen it elsewhere, the work was not partial, but general. Nearly every individual in the entire circle, including teachers in some instances, and the entire household in others. All impressed—all concerned—some rejoicing in the knowledge of Christ and the forgiveness of their sins, others peacefully resting in Him, some seeking—but all, more or less, interested. So deep and real was the work in many hearts, that an earnest desire was expressed for individual, private conversation about the things of God. In the course of the day, about fifty were conversed with in this way, besides many who were spoken to in the presence of others; and of all that we spoke with we desire to cherish a good hope before God. The good work has been begun in many hearts; and, although it may be through any ups and downs, yet of this we are sure, that “Finish, He will, the work begun, and grace in glory end.”

There can be no question, we think, but that the Lord is at present doing a great and blessed work amongst children. As a whole, the work is a real one. Of course, there will be questionable cases everywhere, but that has always been so in connection with every great work of God’s Spirit. The following extracts are encouraging, and may serve as a stimulus to many boys. They are taken from a letter written by a resident teacher in one of the schools where there had been a blessed work:— “The work is marked in all; most manifest in several, their conduct in every particular evincing it. Every boy, too, confesses Christ as the One who has put all his sins away forever.... They met at an early hour for prayer amongst themselves. It has been continued every morning since.....The change in the house is marked by all. Each is so steady, so free from excitement, so happy, so ready to obey. At play, all so free from everything boisterous or unkind that, leaving everything else out of the question, it is a perfect pleasure to be in their company.”

Many details might be given, of the most touching and interesting character, but we forbear. Merely the broad facts are given, that the Lord’s name alone may be exalted, and that the faith of many parents, teachers, and others, may be encouraged, increased, and strengthened.

May the Lord’s own people be kept from either carelessness or unbelief in this matter. Most blessed indeed is the work that He is doing. We may well ask, why is God gathering children so young to Himself now, and in such numbers? We have seen little boys of five and six years crying and sobbing about their sins, and anxious to know if Jesus had saved them. “It seems,” observed one who has been many years in the Lord’s vineyard, “as if the Lord were coming so soon, that He could not wait until the little ones grew up, and He is taking them just as they are.” Blessed Lord! may not a hoof be left behind! AMEN AND AMEN.

O Death! Where Is Thy Sting?

A memorial of the last days of G. S., who fell asleep in Jesus, at the age of 17.

In the Spring of 1858, a youth of 15, by nature bright and buoyant, but now feeling much the emptiness of everything and with a craving for something which could fill and satisfy his heart, was led (surely by the hand of God) to a small meeting-room at D-h, where the gospel was simply set forth by one, poor as to this world, but rich in faith; whose earnest words and fervent manner, more especially in prayer, arrested the boy’s attention, as evincing that he possessed something—some inward spring of happiness which he himself had not.

He left the room and walked to the station in order to return to Ε-r that night, and while waiting on the platform, one, much interested in his eternal welfare, said to him, “What is to hinder you from believing on the Lord Jesus this very night?” These words sunk into his heart. He returned to school, retired to his room, and “prayed with his whole heart as he had never prayed before,” (as he expressed it) for power to believe on the Lord Jesus Christ as the atonement for his sins. When did such a cry ever remain unanswered? G. S. was to be another of the many thousand witnesses to the truth of those words, “Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out.” The Lord showed him not only his sin, but how it had been borne and put away by His blessed Son; and he arose a new creature in Christ Jesus.

The first desire of this dear youth, on being thus made a partaker of the riches of grace, was to go to that Lord who had purchased his soul and satisfied his heart; the next, was to serve Him. The breathings of his soul he expresses thus:

“Oh Lamb of God, I come! receive me to Thy breast;

Now take me to my home; I long to be at rest.

My home is not on earth, nor can I rest below;

Since Christ has given me birth, oh, how I long to go!”

As to his second desire, he writes, “I sometimes picture to myself being permitted to do something for the Lord, by and by. How I wish to occupy the little time I am here to the best possible advantage. It is but a little while, and all things shall have passed away. What a blessed thought! We have not much longer to wait,” &c., &c.

But the time had not yet come for either of these desires to be granted. A brief march in the wilderness was necessary, in God’s ordering “to humble and to prove” him, as well as to deepen the work now wrought in his soul.

Two years rolled on, and as they rolled, many a time did Satan strive to steal that young heart from Christ. At one time presenting the attractions of the world to it— at another, the difficulties of the way—at another, the self-will of nature; but though sometimes allured for a moment and sometimes discouraged, the good Shepherd guarded it, and never allowed it to doubt His love. No one was able to pluck it out of the Father’s hand. The foundation was laid on the Rock, and the winds and the floods could not overturn it. What this Bock was, G. expresses thus: “Simple faith in His love and promise is my ground, and on this I seek to go onwards and upwards. Christ died for me, rose again for my justification; and now, being washed from all sin, I am accepted by the Father. This is enough for me; and this, by the help of God, will I go by.”

But the time was coming when the corn was to be gathered in, and it began rapidly to ripen for the sickle. While still in health, dear G. had a spiritual instinct that he was hastening toward that home which he so longed for. “Oh, to see HIS face!” was now his frequent exclamation. About a few weeks before his illness, when the Lord’s coming for the Church was spoken of, and the question arose as to the probability of being caught up to meet Him, or passing through death before we see Him, G. said, with a glow never to be forgotten, “Well, whichever way it be, I am ready. The sooner I go the better pleased I shall be; for I feel no attraction here, and every possible attraction there.”

His last illness commenced with a cold which was not thought to signify; and throughout he was so entirely free from bodily pain, that even after he was pronounced by the physician in danger, he had no idea of it himself. Some around him, though fully assured of his safety, desired him to be aware of the Lord’s dealings with him, and resolved to announce it to him. “G., dear, (it was said) do you know how ill you are?” He replied, “I am not very ill.” “Yes, you are, very” she rejoined solemnly. G. paused for a minute, looked at her earnestly, and then evidently divining what was meant to be conveyed, said, “Well, I’m quite ready.” “Is the Lord with you?” she asked. “Oh, yes.” “He is no stranger to you.” “No, indeed.” And then, as if the reality opened on him increasingly, he burst forth, “Quite, quite ready! Oh! how soon I’m ready; Blessed God! I did not think of this yesterday. Ο Lord, I long to go to Thee. Take me—take me! My path has not been bright, but I long to go to Thee.” This, be it remembered, was the language, not of one worn and wearied in the wilderness, and therefore longing for rest; but of one who had hardly tasted of its dreariness; who had not known sorrow; and who had youth, health, prospects, and all that could make life desirable. What was it, then, but the attractiveness of Jesus revealed to that young heart by the Holy Ghost, that could thus magnetize all its longings upward? And what was it but the cleansing virtue of the precious blood of Christ, which could make one, by nature “dead in trespasses and sins,” know itself to be “quite, quite ready” for God’s holy presence, the very moment that its approaching entrance into it was announced? Faith in the work of the Son of God had imparted to that soul a new nature as pure as the place for which it was bound; and the affections of that new nature discerning the moral beauty of Christ—knew Him to be “the chiefest among ten thousand, and the altogether lovely.”

A fountain now seemed to be unsealed in G.’s heart. The prospect presented to him was too bright to be lost sight of, and from that moment, even when afterward he was thought likely to recover, he never turned his eye from it. Repeating the blessed assurance over and over again, he would say, “Quite, quite ready; I have my ticket in my hand;” and then, passing from the contemplation of his title of entrance to the Object of his desires, he would smile and say, “Precious Jesus. I’m going to Jesus. I’m going home.”

As the days passed on, the disease progressed, and the mind sometimes wandered; but, whether wandering or collected, the one subject engrossed it. For three days he took little notice of those around him, but was almost constantly, when awake, engaged in either addressing or presenting Christ. The following are some of his utterances: “Nothing but the blood of Jesus. Our tears and prayers from morning till night, and from night till morning, are of no avail. Nothing but the blood of Jesus. Blessed Lord Jesus! Thy precious blood has made me clean in Thy presence, and all is calm peace within and around.” Sometimes, after repeating numerous passages of Scripture, he would proclaim the glad tidings of salvation thus: “There is redemption in Jesus. It’s eternal life to know Him. Believe on Him whom God hath sent. There it is for you all, if you come to Him. He you believe, (addressing those around him) it’s very easy. If you have Christ, you have the foundation. The first thought-the first desire of man is sin, but the blood of Jesus Christ cleanses from all sin. All scripture, from Genesis to Revelation, speaks of the blood in the presence of God the Father.”

But this was not all, the glory and honor of the Saviour also filled his thoughts and words. “Keep the glory and honor of Christ. If you can keep these two things, and I’m sure you can; it is very easy. Blessed Jesus! Thou wert once clothed in scarlet, but now in pure white. Amen. I desired that Christ had been more set forth. Bring up children before God, and not before man.” These are but fragments of his utterances, for much was too rapid to note down. One who listened to him remarked, that it only reminded her of that passage, “Out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water.”

The last day came; G. knew it well. He said, “This is the last day;” and when the doctor came, he wished him farewell, significantly adding, “The Lord is my support.”

During this day G. was frequently in prayer, and the holy and absorbed expression of his countenance, when thus engaged, it is impossible to describe, as he fervently poured out his soul aloud. On one of these occasions he concluded with these words, “Ο Lord, thou art sufficient—thou, Lord Jesus, art sufficient—into thine hands I commit myself.” Observing the sun shining on the ocean before his window, he exclaimed, raising his hand upwards, “There’s a bright sun up there. All trouble, all anxiety, ceased. Oh! I see them all sitting up there, and I shall soon make one of them.” Again, addressing one in sorrow, he said, “Why do you trouble yourself? I shall be all right when I get up there. I shall soon sing Hallelujah.”

The evening closed in, and night wore on. G. still lived; but, as he approached the valley of death, the light which surrounded him became brighter and brighter, and his spirit seemed to rise higher and higher into the joy before him. Throwing his arms around his father’s neck he said, “My dearest father, I’m going to Jesus, and you will soon come too.” His father said to him, “What is it to be forever with the Lord!” He ejaculated, “Beautiful! beautiful! beautiful!” You are leaving us in sorrow to go to Him.” “Yes, very different, absent from the body, present with the Lord.” “You will see Him before we do.” “Wonderful, wonderful!” “To depart and be with Christ is far better.” “Christ.” As if that word contained his all. At another time his father said to him, “You are going to Christ.” G. replied, “My spirit is, i.e., my spiritual nature, it is with Christ and from Christ.”

The gray morning light poured in, and, as we drew up the blind, lighted up his beloved features, now full of holy expectancy; and out of the fullness of his heart his mouth still spake, as to the value of the blessed Son of God, as well as what is due to Him. “Ah! (he exclaimed) Christ is enough for me. Give your heart to Christ, or it will be fit for nothing. Jesus says, ‘I am strong and mighty.’ What have you done for the glory of God? For anything you may do in the service of Christ you shall have more glory in heaven. The Lord Jesus is coming to gather from the four quarters of the earth, to purify for Himself a people zealous of good works.” In the intervals between these utterances, G. would address the Lord, as if turning from man to the home of his heart. “Precious Lord Jesus! we two or three are gathered to remember Thee, in Thy presence, Lord Jesus. Thou art sufficient!”

We thought he was gone, but he opened his eyes, and fixing them on one who had anxiously watched God’s work in his soul from its commencement, he said, “Are you satisfied?” Meaning, “Are you satisfied with what God has done for me?” and on receiving the reply, “Quite satisfied,” he closed them again. After this he exclaimed with animation, addressing his father in reference to a younger brother lately brought to the Lord, “Father, T. is found;” and then as if imagining him present, “Come, T., Come stand up; and all of you stand round and sing. T., come on, come on, that all may learn to know Jesus.” He then burst forth into his last prayer, and soon after said, “It’s beautiful! I shall not die.” These were his last words; after which he was unconscious, but sweetly peaceful, and slept away into the Lord’s bosom like a child going to rest, his countenance bespeaking the whole state of his blessed experience.

Thus were we permitted to witness his abundant entrance into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour. The “ticket in his hand,” as he expressed it, even the precious work of Christ, had established a full and clear title for his entrance there into. And what wondrous and blessed realities wire unfolded to us, as we watched him enter! Death was there—death of the body; a real thing, but a vanquished one. Life was there-eternal life; a real thing, and a conquering one. Life triumphing over death, robbed it of its sting and power; and the enemy of souls saw this, his last stronghold, so illumined with the presence of Christ that he dared not approach it. Christ was there to claim His own and to bear away the soul, which He had purchased with His blood, to be with Him forever.

LINES BY G. R. S.

(Written before he was 16.)

He, who is the sinner’s Friend,

To the wounded heart doth send

Oil of gladness, balm of health,

To enrich the soul with wealth.

Ye who call this God your Friend,

Oh! how blessed is your end!

Thro’ His vast and boundless love,

Ye shall dwell with Him above-

Mansions He doth now prepare,

And returns to take you there.

Children, whom He sought on earth,

Whom His grace has given new birth,

Soon shall return with Him above,

And ne’er cease to praise His love.

Haste that glorious, happy day,

When we’ll need no more to pray,

But unite His name to praise,

And with hosts our voices raise,

Sing the new song of the Lamb,

Worthy He—once slain for man!

G. B. S.

The New Creation: Part 2

It is profoundly interesting to notice, in the third chapter of the Book of Genesis, that the first man who was called to stand amid the ruins of the old creation, was also the first to hear of, and rejoice in, the glories of the new Adam, like millions of his posterity, tried what the old creation could do for him in the way of finding a hiding-place and a covering. He sewed fig-leaves together, as a covering, and when that failed to satisfy his conscience and hush his fears, he tried to find a covert behind the trees of the garden. But neither was of any use. The old creation could never furnish a covert or a covering. And why? Because all that pertains to the old creation is under the power of the enemy. Do what you will with the old creation, and the old Adam nature, and it must all prove valueless, inasmuch as it must all end in death. The grave is the only terminus for all that pertains to the old creation. Men may weary and labor themselves in the vain attempt to obliterate the traces of death and the curse. They may seek to persuade themselves that this world is a fair and lovely spot, and they may enlist all their energies in the work of decking it out and gilding it over; but, ah! it is “all vanity and vexation of spirit.” The ruin and wretchedness will make their appearance through the thickest gilding and the most elaborate decking. The thorn and the thistle are there. Disease and death, sight and tears, broken hearts and furrowed brows, blighted prospects and blasted hopes, poverty and misery—all these things rise up in terrific array, and proclaim the fruitlessness of every effort to mend the old creation, or improve the old Adam nature.

Now, as we have already said, Adam was the first to hear of all this. “And unto Adam he said, Because thou hast hearkened unto the voice of thy wife, and hast eaten of the tree of which I commanded thee, saying, thou shalt not eat of it; cursed is the ground for thy sake; in sorrow shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life: thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth to thee; and thou shalt eat the herb of the field. In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.” Gen. 3:17-19.

So much for the old creation and the old Adamic nature. “Cursed is the ground;” and “dust thou art.” Do what you will, and you cannot alter either of these solemn declarations. Even though you could mend the world, you are only mending a cursed thing; and even though you could improve old Adamic nature, your improvements must go down to the dust. All—all must end in the tomb—the dark, silent tomb. Let a man pursue the most brilliant career, let him wreathe his brow with laurels, let him adorn his name with the highest titles, let him heap up untold wealth, let him live in luxury and splendor, let him reach the summit of human greatness and earthly glory, let literature and science combine all their powers to enlighten, to refine, and to elevate him; and after all, that prediction must stand out before his eye, “Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.” Thus it is with all. The prince and the peasant, the noble and the beggar, the hoary veteran whose breast is adorned with the medals of many splendid victories, and the raw recruit of yesterday, the tender and delicate lady who could not endure a single soil, and the poor creature whose days have been spent amidst the most squalid misery—all must go down to the grave and mingle with the dust of the earth.

Oh! that men would think of this! It would surely tend to teach them the vanity of all the resources of the old creation, and all the efforts and all the attainments of the old Adam nature. It would prove an immense relief to thousands of earnest spirits who are, at this moment, honestly, but fruitlessly, seeking to prop up the tottering ruin of old Adamic nature upon the sandy foundation of a cursed earth. “Cursed is the ground......dust thou art.” What a commentary! Faith alone can read it aright. “The natural man” cannot understand it. He will seek to mend the world and improve himself. Indeed, one special point of difference, between the way of faith and “the way of Cain,” will be found in this, that the former has to do with the new creation, the latter with the old.

Adam took the first step in the way of faith, when he called his wife’s name, “the mother of all living.” There was uncommon moral grandeur in this utterance. He had just heard the solemn declaration, “Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return;” and one may ask, “Where was there aught of ‘life’ to be looked for amid the ‘dust’ of the old creation?” Surely, no where; but Adam’s faith looked up from all the ruin within and around him, and beheld visions of the new creation breaking forth in celestial brightness, to cheer the heart amid the wreck of the old. There was something beyond the “dust” of death, and faith laid hold thereon. Adam judged that the promise concerning “the seed of the woman” could only find its accomplishment in the new creation; and he judged rightly. His judgment was the judgment of faith.

But, be it remembered, it was from God’s revelation that Adam learned to look beyond himself and beyond the old creation for that life of which he spoke. Before the light of that revelation had shone upon him. he had tried all the resources of the old creation. Like millions of his descendants, he tried what his own efforts could produce, ere he received life, as “the gift of God,” in the new creation. He had to learn, after his peculiar fashion, that,

“If human efforts are in vain,

In Christ it is we stand.”

All must learn this, in one way or another. “The wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.” (Rom. 6) All must take their stand with Adam amid the ruin and desolation of the old creation, and hearken to the solemn decree, “dust thou art;” and, Oh! thrice happy they who, while these accents are falling on their ear, can look up, and with that certainty which faith finds in God’s revelation, speak of life in the midst of death. Happy they who can, with faith’s eagle gaze, look beyond “death’s cold flood” to that fair scene of life and immortality which is found in the new creation.

Reader, this is a present reality. We should not be satisfied with merely saying, as so many do, “I know that dust I am, and unto dust must I return; but I hope to get to heaven when I die.” This will never do. The grand point is, now, to see the end of the old creation—the death and burial of the old Adamic nature—and the new creation in Christ Jesus. This is a sublime truth. Let us seek to get hold of it in simple faith. When Christ lay buried in the silent tomb, old Adam was proved a wreck, and the old creation a ruin. There was no hope from either the one or the other; and hence, everything hinged upon this question, “Is there to be anything beyond that tomb? “Shall there be any movement of life in you silent chamber?” Such was the grand question raised at the tomb of Jesus, while angels and principalities, above and below, waited to hear the reply, and see the issue. Nor had they long to wait. At the appointed moment, forth came the Conqueror, in power and majesty, to set up, on the foundation of His accomplished atonement, the new creation of God. The old creation could furnish no such foundation. Men may dig, and dig for ages, in search of a foundation, but all in vain; for, as they penetrate from depth to depth, they meet just the one material, namely, “dust.” There is nothing but dust, in the old creation, or in the Adamic nature.

Now, it is interesting and instructive to see that this great doctrine of new creation was revealed, in measure, to Adam at the very moment in which the old creation lay in ruins around him, and in which he saw himself a ruin in the midst of ruins. When he called his wife’s name “Eve,” he just stepped from the wreck of the old creation on to the imperishable and immovable rock of the new; and as he stood upon that rock, he could calmly look on and see the wreck descending beneath the dark waters of death, knowing that those waters could never reach to where he stood, and that he should need you wreck no more. There was, I repeat it, uncommon moral grandeur in all this. Adam was able, to let go the whole world, as he passed, in the energy of an artless faith, into that new scene which God’s word had introduced to his heart; and, moreover, he was sustained from day to day, from hour to hour, and from moment to moment, amid the “labor and sorrow” of the whole creation, by the power of that same precious principle; for he had to learn, after his own peculiar fashion, and in his measure, the meaning of that word, “The just shall live by faith.”

Nor was it merely life that Adam obtained, in the new creation, but righteousness likewise; for, “Unto Adam also, and to his wife, did the Lord God make coats of skins, and clothed them.” With the furnishing of this coat Adam had nothing whatever to do. Both the life and the righteousness belonged to the new creation. This one fact made them as free as they were permanent, and as permanent as they were free. Man could not earn them, but God gave them, and Satan could not take them. Man has to earn bread by the sweat of his face, in the old creation; but in the new creation he gets the best bread for nothing. All is free in the new creation. And, blessed be God, the hiss of the old serpent can never be heard throughout the wide and hallowed range of that new creation. This gives great rest to the heart. Satan can never get into, and man can never be thrust out from, the heavenly Paradise. The motto inscribed by the hand of redeeming love, on the portal of that holy and happy enclosure is, “They shall go no more out.” Precious motto! The bare idea that one could ever be put out would destroy all the happiness within. But all is sure, all is solid, all is eternal. The new creation shall endure forever. It can never grow old, and all who belong to it partake of its eternal stability.

Well, beloved Christian reader, you belong to this new creation now. Remember this. You have, in the Person of Christ, passed out of the old creation into the new. This precious truth is at once the basis of your eternal security, and of your present separation from all that appertains to the old world. The morals of the Christian life take their tone and complexion from the sublime truth of the new creation. The question is no longer to be, “What harm is there in this, that, or the other pursuit?” Such a question should never once be raised by one who belongs to the new creation. The grand and all-important inquiry for such an one is, “How can I best promote the glory of Him who has rescued me from the wreck of the old creation, and placed me on the rock of the new?” Oh! that Christ were our absorbing object! Would that, losing sight of self and all its thoughts, feelings, and interests—earth, and all pertaining thereto—human thoughts, opinions, and reasonings, we might be wholly taken up with the Person, the glory, and the cause of Christ! God grant it to us, in His abundant mercy! There is nothing in the old creation worth living for. “Dust thou art” is stamped upon everything. And yet, alas! though we know this upon divine authority, how little we live in the power of it! How prone we are to forget it in the midst of surrounding influences!

May God the Holy Ghost work in us a more earnest, influential, abiding faith in all that most precious truth which connects us with the new creation, so that we may pass along through this world as those who are dead to all below, and whose “life is hid with Christ in God.”

“We’re not of the world that fadeth away,

We’re not of the night, but children of day;

The chains that once bound us, by Jesus are riven;

We’re strangers on earth, and our home is in heaven.”

The Work of God in Ireland

It is with feelings of real interest and pleasure that we, once more, call the attention of our readers to the subject of the work of the Spirit of God in Ireland. Twelve months have passed away since we first adverted, in the pages of this Magazine, to the remarkable awakening in the province of Ulster. Since then, we have carefully marked the progress of matters, the growth or decline of individuals, and the general working of principles; moreover, we have, during the last two months, visited many of the principal scenes of the awakening, for the purpose of observing the present tone and aspect of things, and also of collecting information from authentic sources, as to the walk and conversation of those who were, last year, brought under the convicting and converting power of the Holy Ghost. The effect of all that we have seen and heard, has been to strengthen and deepen the conviction to which we ventured to give expression, last year, namely, that the work was, in the main, of God.

When this marvelous movement commenced, many sought to pour contempt upon it. They spoke of it as a mere piece of excitement and fanaticism, as a bubble on the surface of the stream of time which would speedily burst and be forever forgotten. Many participated in this feeling from whom we should have expected better things. It would have argued more prudence and modesty, on their part, to have paused and allowed time for a fuller development of the real nature and character of the movement. We may always rest satisfied in the assurance that time will test every man and every movement. Whatever is of God must endure. Whatever is not must pass away. God’s work will prove itself. It needs not any apology or defense from us. On the other hand, man’s work comes to naught; it crumbles into dust, like the doer of it, and passes away. Hence, it would be our wisdom, in reference to any special work that may claim attention or awaken interest, to be “swift to hear, slow to speak.” Human judgment cannot alter the real truth of things; and one may often have to recant, with shame and confusion of face, an opinion hastily formed and rashly uttered. Besides, it is better far to be hopeful than suspicious; and the tear which charity drops over a blighted expectation is far more noble than the self-complacent smile of one who sees his dark suspicion realized.

But, then, it is one thing to be hopeful, and quite another to be over-sanguine. Though we should shrink from cold suspicion, we should also be on our guard against a blind credulity. We believe that many sincere and earnest friends of the gospel were far too sanguine about this movement. If, on the one hand, some made or sought to make nothing of it, many, on the other hand, sought to make entirely too much of it. The former could see nothing right, the latter nothing wrong. The truth lay between those two extremes. The work was, unquestionably, of God. It has proved itself. Its origin, its progress, its abiding results, its general characteristics, prove it to be from heaven. But the enemy sought to mar, to thwart, and oppose. And, further, we believe that human error and infirmity have largely mingled themselves with the work of the Spirit of God. No impartial observer will deny this; indeed, it is only what every intelligent and experienced Christian would expect. It has ever been thus in the history of the Church of God; and to look for aught else, is but to deceive ourselves with vain and shadowy expectations.

However, we have neither time, space, nor inclination, to dwell upon Satan’s efforts, or man’s mistakes and failures, in reference to the blessed work of God. Our only object in this brief article, is to give our readers some idea of the present aspect of the work of God in Ireland, and more particularly in the province of Ulster.

It is more than probable, that, were a mere cursory observer or visitor called to report upon the present condition of things in the North of Ireland, he might give it as his opinion, that the wave of blessing had rolled on and left matters very much as they were. This would be a great mistake. It needs one to be a resident in the very midst of the revival in order to form a sound judgment respecting its true character and permanent results. True, the outward aspect of things, so far as public meetings are concerned, is widely different from what it was in the summer of 1859. The meetings are not nearly so large, so frequent, or so exciting; but we have no hesitation in saying that, from what has come under our own immediate observation, there is a tone and character pervading such meetings as are held, far more interesting and encouraging to the truly spiritual and reflecting mind. We have observed an earnest desire, yea, in many cases, an intense thirst for the Word of God. This is a fine evidence of the divine life. The new-born babe” is sure to “desire the sincere milk of the word.” Nothing else can satisfy. The new life must be nourished by God’s pure and eternal word, else there will not be growth, strength, or fruitfulness. The grand want of the present moment is an earnest, fervid, intelligent, spiritual ministry. Divinely qualified pastors and teachers are needed in all quarters. We want divinely gifted and divinely taught men—men of zeal, energy, and self-denial, competent to teach publicly and from house to house. Let us earnestly pray that such men may be raised up and sent forth.

At the commencement of this movement we observed a class of men who took a prominent place in the work, earnest men, we doubt not, who, having been recently converted to Christ, and being filled with a deep sense of the value of immortal souls, sought to press upon others the one or two points of truth of which they themselves had got hold. These men, however they might have been, and assuredly were, used of God, have not proved efficient instruments in the important work of building up souls. They filled a place at a moment when the Spirit of God was striking down; but they do not appear to be available now that He is building up. What we want, just now, is a class of men who have entered, in some degree, into the meaning and power of Paul’s exhortation to Timothy, “Meditate on these things; give thyself wholly to them; that thy profiting may appear to all.” (Tim. 4:15.)

It is a great mistake to suppose that anyone can minister in the word and doctrine, who is not divinely qualified for such work. Nor is it sufficient that a man be qualified, in the way of gift, as an evangelist, a pastor, or teacher; he must also have the habit of meditation upon the Word of God. Timothy had a gift; but he was also exhorted to cultivate the habit of meditation, in order that his profiting or advancement might appear to all. If there be not the divinely imparted gift, all attempt at ministry must prove a ludicrous caricature; and if there be not the cultivated habit of meditation, the ministry must degenerate into a barren and tiresome repetition of one or two points of truth which, so far from promoting edification, can only tend to disgust and irritate those who are obliged to listen to it.

However, we must not forget that our present theme is not ministry, but the work of God in Ireland, and we hasten to assure our readers that there is very much in the present aspect of that work for which the true Christian has to be profoundly thankful to the God of all grace. To say that many who seemed or professed to be affected, during the course of last summer, have not proved to be genuine cases of conversion, is only what the experienced Christian reader would anticipate. But, then, it is an unspeakable mercy to know that, in the main, those who were truly converted to God have gone on steadily, notwithstanding manifold hindrances and disadvantages.

We speak of the work as it stands before us, in its own intrinsic character. We are anxious to keep our own thoughts and the thoughts of our readers entirely free from everything sectarian and denominational. The work of God is our theme, and not the failures or the errors of men. We delight to trace the precious operations of the Spirit of God, and, in so doing, to rise above all the petty strife’s and divisions of men.

“This is our joy, which ne’er can fail,

To see the Saviour’s arm prevail,

And mark His steps of grace;

Now, new-born souls convinced of sin,

His blood revealed to them within,

Extol the Lamb in every place.”

This is literally true of many localities throughout the province of Ulster. Hundreds are now “extolling the Lamb in every place.” The desire for the Word of God is most remarkable. From all quarters, the most earnest invitations reach the evangelist. The difficulty is to respond to them all. The people really love the gospel, and will come miles to hear it. The tone of many of the open-air meetings is truly delightful. Few sights are more soul-stirring than to see hundreds of earnest people gathered on the green sward, beneath the open canopy of heaven, listening with breathless interest, to the glad tidings of a full, free, present, personal, and everlasting salvation, through simple faith in the blood of the Lamb. The heart that would not be moved by such a spectacle must be cold indeed. We speak of what we have actually witnessed, within the last few weeks. Others might receive a different impression from the present aspect of things in this country, but, for our own part, we feel called upon to declare that we have—never felt a more profound interest in the work of evangelization than during the last two months, in the counties of Tyrone, Derry, and Antrim.

The following letter from a fellow-laborer, at Newtown Limavady, will, we doubt not, be read with interest. It may be regarded as a tolerably fair example of the testimony which we have received from several competent witnesses, in different localities.

Newtown Limavady, July 26, 1860.

“In reviewing the effects of the late revival in this district, where so many precious souls have received the knowledge of salvation, there is every reason to praise God for His exceeding mercy. The large majority of those who were stricken, continue in the faith, and the whole valley appears to be impressed with a religious feeling. Some few have not acted up to their profession; but my own experience of the converts is very satisfactory. Their altered habits, and anxiety to hear the Word of God betoken, beyond doubt, the new nature which the Lord has imparted to them. Some few isolated cases of prostration have occurred lately under the ministration of the Word, and many prayer-meetings are constantly carried on; but, up to this date, we have had none of those wondrous manifestations which we beheld last year, when hundreds of souls were brought under conviction.
Yours affectionately,
W. L.”

Very similar to the above is the oral testimony of a dear brother, laboring at Moorefort, Ballymoney, whose position, and intimate knowledge of the people, are such as to enable him to form a sound judgment respecting them. We have also sought information from intelligent persons, in other districts, and the tendency of all is to confirm us in the conviction of the reality and permanence of that blessed work which the Lord has wrought in our midst. No doubt, we have very much to lament as to our own failure in faith and personal devotedness. We might have reaped a far larger harvest, had we entered the field with more self-emptiness and spiritual energy. All this, and much more, is, alas! too true of us; but we have abundant cause of thankfulness in the past and present, and abundant ground of confidence and encouragement as to the future.

May the Lord lead us forth in more whole-hearted consecration to His service, and His name shall have all the praise, world without end.

SONG IN THE DAY OF THE EAST WIND.

“What time I am afraid I will trust in thee.” —Psalm 56:3.

Is God for me? I fear not, though all against me rise;

When I call on Christ my Saviour, the host of evil flies;

My Friend, the Lord Almighty, and He who loves me, God,

What enemy shall harm me, though coming as a flood?

I know it, I believe it, I say it fearlessly.

That God, the Highest, mightiest, forever loveth me.

At all times, in all places, He standeth at my side;

He rules the battle fury, the tempest, and the tide.

A Rock that stands forever, is Christ my Righteousness,

And there I stand unfearing in everlasting bliss;

No earthly thing is needful to this my life from heaven,

And naught of love is worthy, save that which Christ has given;

Christ, all my praise and glory, my light most sweet and fair,

The ship wherein He saileth, is scathless everywhere.

In Him I dare be joyful, as a hero in the war;

The judgment of the sinner affrighteth me no more.

There is no condemnation, there is no hell for me,

The torment and the fire my eyes shall never see;

For me there is no sentence, for me has death no sting,

Because the Lord who loves me shall shield me with His wing,

Above my soul’s dark waters His Spirit hovers still,

He guards me from all sorrows, from terror and from ill,

In me He works, and blesses the life-seed He has sown,

From Him I learn the “Abba,” that prayer of faith alone.

And if in lonely places, a fearful child, I shrink,

He prays the prayers within me, I cannot ask or think,—

The deep unspoken language known only to that love,

Which fathoms the heart’s mystery from the throne of light above

His Spirit to my spirit sweet words of comfort saith,

How God the weak one strengthens who leans on him in faith:

How He hath built a city of love and light and song,

Where the eye at last beholdeth what the heart had loved so long.

And there is mine inheritance, my kingly palace, home:

The leaf may fall and perish, not less the spring will come;

Like wind and rain of winter, our earthly sighs and tears,

Till the golden summer dawneth of the endless year of years.

The world may pass and perish, Thou God wilt not remove

No hatred of all devils, can part me from Thy love;

No hungering nor thirsting, no poverty nor care,

No wrath of mighty princes, can reach my shelter there;

No angel and no heaven, no throne nor power nor might,

No love, no tribulation, no danger, fear, nor fight,

No height, no depth, no creature that has been or can be,

Can drive me from Thy bosom, can sever me from Thee;

My heart in joy upleapeth, grief cannot linger there,

She singeth high in glory amidst the sunshine fair;

The Sun that shines upon me is Jesus, and His love;

The fountain of my singing is deep in heaven above.

Paul Gerhardt.

One Thing Is Needful

The Substance of an Address to a Sunday School.

What does the Lord Jesus mean, dear children, when He says, “One thing is needful?” What is the one thing needful? Salvation. —Truly, salvation is, in a sense, very important to us, the one thing needful; but let us see exactly what Jesus means by it in this passage. In the first place, tell me, where is Mary sitting? At the feet of Jesus. —What is she listening to? His word. —Yes, she was receiving something from Christ, in place of providing something for Him. She honored Him as a Divine Person, as God as well as man. She knew that all fullness dwelt in Jesus, and that, although He was tired and wearied with His journey, He could fill her soul with heavenly things. But was not Martha very kind to Jesus? Yes. —O, yes; she was very kind. She thought of His bodily wants, and we should love Martha for her kindness to Jesus. But, you see, Mary thought of Him as God, and honored Him as God, by sitting at His feet, and drinking in the truth from His lips. Now, which of the two sisters had chosen the better part? Mary—Yes, Mary; and the blessed Jesus says, it should not be taken from her. “Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her.” Is not this very comforting to the heart? Surely it is. When Jesus is the chosen portion of our hearts, we know that He will never be taken away from us.

And now, my dear children, this is just the place we want you all to take this afternoon-to come to Jesus, and, like Mary, to sit at His feet, and hear His loving, gracious words. What is He saying to you now? I mean, just now—this afternoon? Is it not, “Come unto me!”—unto myself? Yes, surely. But who are invited? “ALL ye that labor and are heavy laden.” Everyone is invited, for all are laboring under the heavy burden of sin, whether they are sensible of it or not. Oh! it is a heavy, heavy burden, sin, and will be sure to sink the soul deep in hell, if it is not put away. But you know what puts it all away. “The blood of Jesus Christ, God’s Son, cleanseth us from all sin.” And now tell me, what is His promise to those —who do come to Him? “I will give you rest.” Does He ever refuse any who come to Him? No; “Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out.”

If you do what He bids you, should you not believe what He says to you? Yes, surely. This is the “one thing needful:” to do what He bids you—to believe what He says to you. “Come unto me......I will give you rest.” This is just what Mary did. She came to Himself—she sat at His feet, hearing His word. Is it enough to hear the word of Jesus with the outward ear merely? No. —Ο no, you are all hearing it with the outward ear just now, but how many are hearing it with the ear of the heart? God tries the heart. If you are hearing the word of Jesus this afternoon with the ear of the heart, you will be sure to trust in Him. All who believe with the heart can trust His word. They know that they have rest, just because He says it. Could a sinner have rest if his sins were not all put away? No, certainly not; for even one sin, unforgiven, would be eternal trouble to the soul. Well, now, have you done what Jesus bids you? “Come unto me.” Have you taken your places like little children at His feet? Do you really desire this afternoon to sit at these blessed feet, and listen to the words of grace as they fall from His lips? Well, then, will you believe what He says to you? And can you really trust in Him? How safe will you be, if you trust in Jesus? Quite safe. — Yes, just as safe as He can make you. “Blessed are all they that put their trust in him.” They will surely be blessed with God’s own blessedness, and made happy with God’s own happiness.

Now, then, I will explain to you why this is the “one thing needful,” and why we are so anxious that you should come to Jesus this afternoon—hear His word—believe it— be saved—and be happy in loving Jesus and in serving Him. I will now give you five reasons, which will prove that to sit at Jesus’ feet and hear His word is the “one thing needful.” And I want you to pay particular attention to these five things, that you may remember them afterward, and speak of them to your teachers. Besides, I will ask you a great many questions about them before I have finished.

1. The one thing needful glorifies God. If we refuse to hear what Jesus says, the blessed God is dishonored. Jesus tells us what God is. God is love. We can only know what God is by believing the word of Christ. Does God command us to hear Jesus? Yes. “This is my beloved Son: hear him.” If you refuse to hear the Son, you disobey the Father. He would have all men to honor the Son even as they honor the Father. (John 5:23.) You see how much depends on a little boy or a little girl coming, or refusing to come, to Jesus. Is it not sad to think that some of you will listen to your teachers, to your parents, to your neighbors, and it may be to Satan, and yet refuse to listen to the sweet words of Jesus? Is it not so? Yes. Oh! then, come, come at once—obey God—sit at Jesus’ feet—hear His word. If you choose the good part this afternoon, it shall never be taken from you. Oh! how many of you have been brought to the feet of Jesus since we began to speak? A good many, I hope. Have you? Have you? Have YOU? Are there still some that are careless about coming? Surely not! I hope not. But there may be some who have the desire to come, but they are afraid. Need you be afraid when Jesus Himself says, “Come unto me—I will in no wise cast you out—Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of God.” But this brings us to the second thing, which is;

2. The one thing needful pleases the heart of Christ. Oh! what a precious truth this is. Well now, would you not like to please the heart of that blessed Jesus? Yes. — Yes, and well you may. He loves you. He died that you might live. He shed His precious blood that your sins might be all washed away. He rose again that you might have eternal life. He has gone up to heaven that you might be accepted in Him. And now He is looking down from that heaven, to see how many of your hearts are really desiring to please Him. How many will He see this afternoon? Will He see yours? yours? yours? Oh! does He now see some little heart breathing after Him? Have you made His heart glad by believing in Him? Is it not very wonderful that He, who is surrounded with all the bright and beautiful angels above, should be made glad by any one of you coming to Him as your Saviour, and trusting in Him with all your heart. When a little child, or any person, can say truly, “Jesus loved me, and gave Himself for me,” His heart is made glad. How many of you are saying this in your hearts to Jesus just now? Perhaps you will tell me after, when we are speaking to each other about the blessed Jesus. But you may now tell Him what is in your heart. You will come to Jesus this afternoon, will you not? Would you not like to make Him glad? I think you would—I should. But I think there is none like Jesus. Do you? No—No, there is none like Him. But you could trust in Him now, could you not? Would there be any risk in trusting all to Him? No. —O, no; none, whatever. “Blessed are all they that put their trust in him.”

But now, tell me, are you quite sure that nothing you could do on earth would so much please the heart of Jesus as trusting in Him? Yes. How can you prove it? Mary pleased Christ better than Martha. Quite right; and yet Martha was very kind to Jesus. Do you love Martha for being kind to Jesus? Yes. Is that because you love Him? I hope it is. But now, tell me, what was Mary doing? Was she thinking of the wants of Jesus? No. She thought of her own need, and of Christ’s fullness, and she came to Him in her need, knowing and believing that He could meet it all. She knew He was God as well as man, and that He alone could supply all her wants. Can we do any one thing in this world, that so pleases the heart of Christ, as to come to Him with all our wants, firmly believing that He is able and willing to supply them all? No—no, dear children. A little child, with his heart confiding in Jesus, honors Him more than a great preacher with a doubting heart. Now, then, you will surely please the heart of the blessed Jesus this afternoon—will you not? You can trust in Him now—can you not? I know some of you are ready to tell me, with weeping eyes, that you do love Jesus, and that you can now give your hearts to Him. Oh! love Him more and more, and trust Him more and more. You can trust all to Him now—can you not? Tell Jesus.

But now we must go on to the other three things, and I can do little more than tell you what they are.

3. The one thing needful is grateful to the Holy Spirit. The great thing for which the Holy Spirit is down here, on the earth, is to glorify Jesus, by making Him known to our hearts. When we are taught by the Spirit what Jesus is, we sit at His feet, and own Him as our Lord and Master. Has the Holy Spirit revealed Jesus to your hearts, and brought you to His feet? Would any little boy or girl ever come to Jesus of their own accord? No—oh no, not one! By nature our hearts are dead to Him. Jesus may speak ever so sweetly, but there is no answer in our hearts to Him. Who is it that quickens the dead soul? God. — Yes, God the Holy Ghost? By what means does He quicken it? By the word of Jesus. You see then how important it is to receive the word, and trust in the living God. If there be a true desire in any one of your hearts to come to Jesus, who has put that desire there. The world? No—Satan? No—Has it sprung up in your own hearts? No—How then has it come there? By the Holy Spirit— And what has He used to produce that desire? The word of God. —Yes, quite true. But, tell me, will the Holy Spirit satisfy that desire? Yes. How can He do that? By revealing Christ to our hearts. And when you receive Him, is every desire met? O, yes. —And if you were all to receive Jesus this afternoon, would not that be very grateful to the Holy Spirit? Yes. And will you all receive Jesus now, just now? Do you know the Holy Spirit is here, and sees your hearts? How solemn—yet how blessed! There would be no good in either you or me coming here, were He not present with us. May He give you good desires this afternoon, create in your hearts a thirst, and quench it with the water of life.

4. The one thing needful honors the word. To hear, believe, and obey the word of the Lord, is to honor it. Mary did this. To neglect or to doubt God’s word is to dishonor it. Oh! then, listen to Jesus—come to the Bible—hear Him, as it were, speaking to you. Just see for a moment what blessings came to those who hear and believe the word of Jesus. “Verily, verily, I say unto you, he that heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation, but is passed from death unto life.” (John 5:24.) Could anything be more plain, more sure, more blessed?

5. The one thing needful is salvation to the soul. Oh! my dear children, is not this the one thing needful indeed, for you and for me? Yes. —O, yes! Everything else compared with this is as nothing. And now let me ask you plainly, Are you saved—saved, through believing in Jesus? All who have been brought to Jesus this afternoon are saved. Not will be, or may be, but are saved. The grace of God bringeth salvation; not the hope of it merely, but the thing itself. As our Lord said to Zacchaeus, “This day is salvation come to this house.” It was not a future, but a present salvation.

We will now go over these various points together, and let me hear how you will remember them..........After prayer, we can have individual conversation about, “The one thing needful.”

And may the Lord enable every one of you this afternoon, my dear children, to be decided for Christ.

Jesus, my All in all Thou art,

My rest in toil, my ease in pain;

The medicine of my broken heart;

‘Mid storms my peace; in loss my gain;

My smile beneath the tyrant’s frown;

In shame, my glory and my crown.

In want, my plentiful supply;

In weakness, my almighty power;

In bonds, my perfect liberty:

My refuge in temptation’s hour;

My comfort ‘midst all grief and thrall.

My life in death, my All in all.

Sanctification: What Is It? Part 1

It has been our earnest desire, since we commenced to issue this Magazine, that God would be pleased to make use of it, first, in the conversion of souls; and, secondly, in ministering peace and comfort to those who, though truly converted, have not laid hold of a full Christ, and who, as a consequence, are not enjoying the liberty of the gospel. It is the second of the above objects which we have in view in furnishing our readers with an article on the important and deeply interesting subject of sanctification. We believe that very many of those whose spiritual welfare we desire to promote, suffer materially from defective, or erroneous, ideas on this vital question. Indeed, in some cases, the doctrine of sanctification is so entirely misapprehended as to interfere with the truth of the believer’s perfect justification before God.

For example, we have frequently heard persons speak of sanctification as a progressive work, in virtue of which our old nature is to be made gradually better, and, moreover, that until this process has reached its climax—until fallen and corrupt humanity has become completely sanctified, we are not fit for heaven.

Now, so far as this view of the question is concerned, we have only to say that both Scripture and the truthful experience of all believers are entirely against it. The word of God never once teaches us that the Holy Ghost has for His object the improvement, either gradual or otherwise, of our old nature—that nature which we inherit, by natural birth, from fallen Adam. The inspired apostle expressly declares that, “The natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him: neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned.” (1 Cor. 2:14.) This one passage is clear and conclusive on the point. If “the natural man” can neither “receive” nor “know” “the things of the Spirit of God,” then, how can that “natural man” be sanctified by the Holy Ghost? Is it not plain that, to speak of “the sanctification of our nature” is opposed to the direct teaching of 1 Cor. 2:14? Other passages might be adduced to prove that the design of the Spirit’s operations is not to improve or sanctify the flesh, but there is no need to multiply quotations. An utterly ruined thing can never be sanctified. Do what you will with it, and it is ruined; and, most assuredly, the Holy Ghost did not come down to sanctify a ruin, but to lead the ruined one to Jesus. So far from any attempt to sanctify the flesh, we read that, “The flesh lusteth against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh: and these are contrary the one to the other.’’ (Gal. 5:17.) Could the Holy Ghost be represented as carrying on a warfare with that which He is gradually improving and sanctifying? Would not the conflict cease so soon as the process of improvement had reached its climax? But does the believer’s conflict ever cease so long as he is in the body?

This leads us to the second objection to the erroneous theory of the progressive sanctification of our nature, namely, the objection drawn from the truthful experience of all believers. Is the reader a true believer? If so, has he found any improvement in his old nature? Is it a single whit better now, than it was when he first started on his Christian course? He may, through grace, be enabled to subdue it more thoroughly; but it is nothing better. If it be not mortified, it is just as ready to spring up and show itself in all its vileness as ever. “The flesh” in a believer is, in no wise, better than “the flesh” in an unbeliever. If this be forgotten, it would be hard to calculate the result. If the Christian does not bear in mind that self must be judged, he will soon learn, by bitter experience, that his old nature is as bad as ever; and, moreover, that it will be the very same to the end.

It is difficult to conceive how anyone who is led to expect a gradual improvement of his nature can enjoy an hour’s peace, inasmuch as he cannot hut see, if only he looks at himself in the light of God’s holy word, that there is not the smallest change in the true character of his own heart, that his heart is as deceitful and desperately wicked as when he walked in the moral darkness of his unconverted state. His own condition and character are, indeed, greatly changed, by the possession of a new, yea, “a divine nature,” and by the indwelling of the Holy Ghost, to give effect to its desires; but the moment the old nature is at work, he finds it as opposite to God as ever. We doubt not but that very much of the gloom and despondency of which so many complain may be justly traced to their misapprehension of this important point of sanctification. They are looking for what they can never find. They are seeking for a ground of peace in a sanctified nature instead of in a perfect sacrifice —in a progressive work of holiness, instead of in a finished work of atonement. They deem it presumptuous to believe that their sins are forgiven until their evil nature is completely sanctified, and, seeing that this end is not reached, they have no settled assurance of pardon, and are therefore miserable. In a word, they are seeking for “a foundation” totally different from that which Jehovah says He has laid, and, therefore, they have no certainty whatever. The only thing that ever seems to give them a ray of comfort is some apparently successful effort in the struggle for personal sanctity. If they have had a good day—if they are favored with a season of comfortable communion—if they happen to enjoy a peaceful, devotional frame, they are ready to cry out, “Thou hast made my mountain to stand strong; I shall never be moved.” Psalm 30.

But ah! these things furnish a sorry foundation for the soul’s peace. They are not Christ; and, until we have Christ, we have nothing; but when we get Him, we get all. The soul that has really got hold of Christ is desirous indeed of holiness; but if intelligent of what Christ is to him, he has done with all thoughts about sanctified nature. He has found His all in Christ, and the paramount desire of his heart is to grow into His likeness. This is true practical sanctification.

It frequently happens that persons in speaking of sanctification mean a right thing, although they do not express themselves according to the teaching of holy Scripture. There are many also, who see one side of the truth as to sanctification, but not the other; and, although we should be sorry to make any one an offender for a word, yet it is always most desirable, in speaking of any point of truth, and especially of so vital a point as that of sanctification, to speak according to the divine integrity of the Word. We shall, therefore, proceed to quote for our readers a few of the leading passages from the New Testament in which this doctrine is unfolded. These passages will teach us two things, namely, what sanctification is, and how it is affected.

The first passage to which we would call attention is 1 Cor. 1:30, “But of him are ye in Christ Jesus, who of God is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption.” Here we learn that Christ “is made unto us” all these four things. God has given us, in Christ, a precious casket, and when we open that casket with the key of faith, the first gem that glitters in our view is “wisdom;” the second is “righteousness;” the third is “sanctification;” and the fourth is “redemption.” We have them all in Christ. As we get one, so we get all. And how do we get one and all? By faith. But why does the apostle name redemption last. Because it takes in the final deliverance of the body of the believer from under the power of mortality, when the voice of the archangel and the trump of God shall either raise it from the tomb, or change it, in the twinkling of an eye. Will this act be progressive? Clearly not. It will be done, “in the twinkling of an eye.” The body is in one state now, and “in a moment” it will be in another. In the brief point of time expressed by the rapid movement of the eyelash, will the body pass from corruption to in corruption; from dishonor to glory; from weakness to power. What a change! It will be immediate, complete, eternal, divine.

But what are we to learn from the fact that “sanctification is placed in the group with redemption?” We learn that what redemption will be to the body, that sanctification is now to the soul. In a word, sanctification, in the sense in which it is here used, is an immediate, a complete, an eternal, a divine work. The one is no more progressive than the other. The one is as immediate as the other. The one is as complete and as independent of man as the other. No doubt, when the body shall have undergone the glorious change, there will be heights of glory to be trodden, depths of glory to be penetrated, wide fields of glory to be explored. All these things shall occupy us throughout eternity. But, then, the work which is to fit us for such scenes will be done in a moment. So also is it, in reference to sanctification, the practical results of the thing will be continually developing themselves; but the thing itself, as spoken of in this passage, is done in a moment.

What an immense relief it would be to thousands of earnest, anxious, struggling souls to get a proper hold of Christ as their sanctification! How many are vainly endeavoring to work out a sanctification for themselves! They have come to Christ for righteousness after many fruitless efforts to get a righteousness of their own; but they are seeking after sanctification in a different way altogether. They have gotten “righteousness without works;” but they imagine that they must get sanctification with works. They have gotten righteousness by faith; but they imagine that they must get sanctification by effort. Thus it is they lose their peace. They do not see that we get sanctification in precisely the same way as we get righteousness, inasmuch as Christ “is made unto us” the one as well as the other. Do we get Christ by effort? No; by faith. It is “to him that worketh not:” (Rom. 4:5.) This applies to all that we get in Christ. We have no warrant whatever to single out from 1 Cor. 1:30, the matter of “sanctification,” and place it upon a different footing from all the other blessings which it unfolds. We have neither wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, nor redemption in ourselves; nor can we procure them by aught that we can do; but God has made Christ to be unto us all these things. In giving us Christ, He gave us all that is in Christ. The fullness of Christ is ours, and Christ is the fullness of God.

Again, in Acts 26:18, the converted Gentiles are spoken of as “receiving forgiveness of sins and an inheritance among them which are sanctified by faith.” Here, faith is the instrument by which we are said to be sanctified, because it connects us with Christ. The very moment the sinner believes on the Lord Jesus Christ he becomes linked to Him. He is made one with Him, complete in Him, accepted in Him. This is true sanctification and justification. It is not a process. It is not a gradual work. It is not progressive. The word is very explicit. It says, “them which are sanctified by faith which is in me.” It does not say, “which shall be sanctified,” or, “which are being sanctified.” If such were the doctrine it would have been so stated.

No doubt, the believer grows in the knowledge of this sanctification, in his sense of its power and value, its practical influence and results, the experience and enjoyment of it. As “the truth” pours its divine light upon his soul, he enters into a more profound apprehension of what is involved in being “set apart” for Christ, in the midst of this evil world. All this is blessedly true; but the more its truth is seen, the more clearly we shall understand that sanctification is not merely a progressive work wrought in us by the Holy Spirit, but that it is one result of our being linked to Christ, by faith, whereby we become partakers of all that He is. This is an immediate, a complete, and an eternal work. “Whatsoever God doeth, it shall be forever: nothing can be put to it, nor anything taken from it.” (Eccles. 3:14.) Whether He justifies or sanctifies, “it shall be forever.” The stamp of eternity is fixed upon every work of God’s hand; “nothing can he put to it,” and, blessed be His name, “nothing can be taken from it.”

There are passages which present the subject in another aspect, and which may require fuller consideration hereafter. In Thess. 5:23, the apostle prays for the saints whom he addressed, “And the very God of peace sanctify you wholly; and I pray God your whole spirit, and soul, and body, be preserved blameless unto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Here, the word is applied to a sanctification admitting of degrees. The Thessalonians had, along with all believers, a perfect sanctification in Christ; but as to the practical enjoyment and display of this, it was only accomplished in part, and the apostle prays that they may be wholly sanctified.

In this passage, it is worthy of notice, that nothing is said of “the flesh.” Our fallen, corrupt nature is always treated as a hopelessly ruined thing. It has been weighed in the balance and found wanting. It has been measured by a divine rule and found short. It has been tried by a perfect plummet and proved crooked. God has set it aside. Its “end has come before him.” He has condemned it and put it to death. It is crucified, dead, and buried. To adduce proofs would demand a volume. Are we, then, to imagine for a moment, that God the Holy Ghost came down from heaven for the purpose of exhuming a condemned, crucified, and buried nature, so that He might sanctify it? The idea has only to be named, to be abandoned forever by everyone who bows to the authority of scripture. The more closely we study the Law, the Prophets, the Psalms, and the entire New Testament, the more clearly we shall see that the flesh is wholly unamendable. It is, absolutely, good for nothing. The Spirit does not sanctify it, but he enables the believer to mortify it. We are told to “put off the old man.” This precept would never have been delivered to us if the object of the Holy Ghost were the sanctification of that old man.”

(To be continued, if the Lord will.)

"Even So; Come, Lord Jesus"

Holy! Holy! Holy Lord!

Eternal Father, Spirit, Word,

To Thee be praise and glory given,

By all on earth and all in heaven.

Let the glad earth commence the song;

Ye angel choirs, the notes prolong:

Join, saints and seraphim, to raise

An anthem of exalted praise.

Come, Saviour! Come, assume thy sway,

Let earth’s remotest realms obey; ‘Tis thine,

Ο Lord, thy blood-bought right,

O’er the dark world to pour the light.

Creation groans, with travail press’d,

Waiting her promised days of rest,

When every power on earth shall bow

Before the Saviour’s kingly brow.

On thy blest brow still, Saviour, wear

The crown thy foes once planted there;

For every thorn shall be a gem

Brighter than earth’s best diadem.

Thy Church, with outstretch’d, longing eyes,

Looks up to see the dawn arise;

And ready waits to bow the knee,

And hail her Lord, Ο Christ, in THEE!

S. T. W.

Things That Differ

(Phil. 1:10.)

PRINCIPLES or precepts which sound as though they did not agree very well together make their demands upon us at times, and we are somewhat at a difficulty to decide between them.

In Matt. 12:1-8, the Lord has such a case before Him. The Sabbath and the hunger of His disciples make their several demands; and then also, the Sabbath and the Temple. But, of course, He finds no difficulty. He answers all. “I will have mercy and not sacrifice,” expresses His wisdom, as well as the judgment of Scripture.

So in Matt. 22; He was challenged, Israelite as He was, to answer the claims of Caesar. It was, apparently, a difficulty; but we know in what perfection of wisdom Ηe silenced those who challenged Him. He was as the remnant, or the returned captives, who, in the days of Ezra, Nehemiah, and Esther, knew how to distinguish between such claimants upon them as the word which God had of old given to them, and the Gentile whom He had lately set over them. For the Persian of that day was as the Caesar of the Lord’s day, it was still the Gentile authority in Jerusalem.

Again, in Matt. 23, the Lord decides as to the comparative claims of such different things as tithes and judgment-money and faith. See ver. 23.

In the course of the Apostle’s teaching, he speaks of the spirit of “liberty,” as in Gal. 5:1, and of the spirit of “reverence,” as in Heb. 12:28. The saint has, therefore, to cherish each of these; but he may often make mistakes, finding a difficulty in giving to each of these holy claimants upon him its due place and measure.

So, in acting on the demands of “charity” and of “strength,” as we read in 1 Cor. 16:13, 14, we may find like difficulty, and often again make mistakes. This latter will he, of course, in our dealings with one another. The former (that of deciding between the claims of “liberty” and “reverence”) will occur in our carrying ourselves with or before God.

In this present day, and with the light of God’s peculiar principles in our minds, we may be painfully perplexed, when we think, for instance, of the claims of purity on the one side, and of largeness on the other. The peculiar holiness of the house of God is to be maintained, and yet the greatness and abounding of divine grace is as surely to he exercised and testified.

Does Scripture afford a direct help in this difficulty, and cast a clear and steady light by which we may distinguish things that differ, and know our answer to each of them? I believe so. I read 1 Cor. 8:10; and there I see that the apostle would sacrifice himself, but not God’s truth, to love. He would not eat meat while the world lasted, if it offended a brother; and yet he would not open the door of God’s house to one who came from an idol’s temple, even though he were a brother. He was ready to sacrifice himself, but not God’s house, to love. The grace or large-heartedness that becomes saints called for the sacrifice in the one case, but holiness refused it in the other.

Again, it appears to me that the same apostle, in his own person and actings, beautifully distinguished things that differed, though apparently they were very kindred to each other, in Acts 16. From the “vision” he assuredly gathered that he was to go into Macedonia; from the “earthquake” he assuredly gathered that he was not to go out of the prison; though, to an unskilled eye, an eye not practiced to exercise itself in the light where God dwells, the one might appear to be a providence fitted to the moment, just as surely and distinctly as the other.

Thus, there are things that differ and appear to be at variance, yet each is to be honored, and there are things that appear to be kindred, yet are to be distinguished. Who is sufficient for these things? We make many blunders; but we must know our relief in One who appears for us in the presence of God as with “Holiness unto the Lord” upon His forehead.

I would further notice this subject as to quantity and quality in service. This may be suggested to us by the parable of “The Laborers in the Vineyard.”

That parable, I judge, instructs us in the fact that the quality as well as the quantity of Christian service is appreciated by the Divine Mind; so that the finer quality of a little service may give it an equal place with the much.

Not that we are to be measuring or comparing ourselves too nicely. This I should dread, and would guard against. It would generate bondage and nourish the legal mind. Still, however, we are to recognize the fact, that service has its quality as well as its quantity.

“God loveth a cheerful giver,” most surely intimates this; and who would part with such a little sentence as that? It rebukes indeed our selfish, calculating mind, but it is an excellent oil that will not break our head, but rather deeply comfort our heart, letting us learn a sweet secret about God Himself through it, even this, that He is a cheerful giver. We are to exhort one another unto love and good works—surely we are; but we are not to do good works either by constraint of others, or in imitation of others. Such qualities would ruin all service. Peter, having listened to the Lord’s notice of the case of the rich young ruler, puts in his claim, and the claim of his fellow-disciples, his companion apostles, on the ground of the quantity of their service, or of the surrender they had made in following Jesus. “We have forsaken all,” said he to his Master, “and have followed thee, what shall we have therefore?”

This was offensive in Peter. We resent it ourselves at once. I somewhat feel as though Peter were more unlike himself at that moment than on any occasion. He was not the free-hearted, earnest, uncalculating Peter then. He spake out, it is true, as he commonly did; for all that is wrong in him shows itself; still, the words offend us. But they only the more illustrate the perfectness of his Divine Master; because, in the full forbearance of grace, as. He resents these words of His servant, He calmly admits the claim which quantity has in the account of services. “Every one,” says He, “that hath forsaken houses, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my name’s sake, shall receive an hundredfold, and shall inherit everlasting life.” But, having said this, He added, “but many that are first shall be last, and the last shall be first;”—words, which tell us that there were rules for measuring the services of different servants which, it would seem, Peter had not apprehended, but which the Lord would have him now to know. And these words introduce to us, and prepare us for, the following parable. See Matt. 19; 20. For, in this parable, “the laborers in the vineyard,” the Lord is seen, as I judge, distinguishing things that differ—that is, quantity and quality in services rendered to Him, or for His sake.

The man who began to labor at the first hour of the day, made a bargain. He agreed with the lord of the vineyard for a penny a day. None of the others did this, but went to their work on the faith of the promise that, whatever was right they would get; and this gave a finer quality to their service (though it was but for one hour) than what theirs, who had borne the burden and heat of the day, possessed. Therefore, they received the like wages. Each of them was given a penny; and yet the Lord of the vineyard did no wrong to those who labored for eleven hours. They got what they bargained for, and if he did what he pleased with that which remained to him after they were paid their due, if he were good in using what was his own, they had no ground of complaint.

We will not refuse to own, that difficulties and perplexities often beset our minds, in the moral path that lies before us, day by day, amid present confusions. But, beloved, there are two consolations: the fault is in ourselves only, and that fault we may take by confession to Him, while the sunshine of the soul, gathered from the grace and salvation of God, suffers no cloud or dimness.

How Are the Converts of Last Year Standing?

Since our return from Ireland, in the month of August, the above question has been asked by many, and asked by some, with an earnestness that indicates deep interest in the answer. This consideration has led us to feel that it deserves a public reply.

Last year, it was the impression of many, but chiefly of those who never were in the work, that what was called the Revival, would soon pass away, and that little fruit of its reality would remain. In this, the Lord be praised, they have been disappointed—happily disappointed, we may say. Having had much personal conversation with many of the young converts themselves, in different places, during a sojourn among them for twelve days, and with others also, who are fully competent to judge, we are truly happy in being able to state, that they are, as a whole, standing well. And not merely standing according to the profession they then made, but many of them are evidently growing in grace.

We say, observe, “as a whole,” for all have not stood. Some have grown cold, others, alas, have gone back; but the proportion, blessed be God, is exceedingly small. And by far the greater part are going on in a way that proves the divine origin, and eternal reality, of the great and glorious work of last year.

We witnessed a freshness about numbers of them, that was truly refreshing to our own hearts. They manifest great desire for the pure word of God, and much tenderness of heart when Christ is preached. Settled peace, through the knowledge of Christ, and the forgiveness of sins, still characterize them. The large meetings of last year, and the excitement connected with them, have passed away, but the reality remains. A blessed work of God’s Spirit goes on. On several occasions, we observed, during the preaching of the word, when the speaker was led to dwell on the love and grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, numbers were bathed in tears. One, we particularly noticed one evening, wept very much. Sometime afterward we had an opportunity of speaking to her, and asked if she was happy in Jesus. “O, yes!” was her instant and joyous reply; “but I cannot hear you speak about Jesus without feeling this way.” You could not doubt the love of His heart, could you? “O, no! no!” Nor the cleansing power of His precious blood? “O, no! sir. It has washed all my sins away. I am quite happy in Him, glory be to His name, but I can’t help feeling.” Ah, dear Christian reader, and who would seek to hinder, or suppress, such sweet tenderness of heart at the mention of the name of Jesus? Would to God that we saw and felt more of it. It has power over the hearts of others. It had over ours.

In passing through the congregation, while they remained in the field, we met with many similar cases. Even some who were lying prostrate, told us they were quite happy. They had been “stricken” last year. An overcoming sense of bodily weakness seems to follow deep spiritual feeling, in this part of the country. Whether of joy or sorrow, it has been fitly termed “physical prostration.” We have not found the same thing, except in a few cases, either in Scotland or England, although we have witnessed scenes of as deep an awakening in both places. Neither has it been the same in the South of Ireland.

As we have again returned to this subject, and as the outward aspect of the work, namely, physical prostration, still continues, in a great measure, peculiar to the North of Ireland, we will give a few details of the evening already referred to. We are anxious that our readers, and especially our city readers, should be able to imagine themselves in a field-preaching scene, and in the midst of a general awakening.

An Evening at Tullyreagh

For several days previously, it had been made known throughout the neighborhood, that there would be a field-preaching at Tullyreagh, a country place, about five miles north of Ballymena. The place selected was close to a farm house, and about a quarter of a mile off the main road. When we arrived, a little past seven o’clock, we found the people gathered, and most orderly seated, in a small sloping field. It was thought that there were present about five hundred. A stranger would be surprised to see so large a congregation in such an out-of-the-way place. There might not be a dozen houses within sight. Many of the poor people had traveled several miles after a hard day’s work. On asking how they could make it so widely known in so short a time, we were informed that one way was to make it known in schools, and the children carried the tidings home. The news of a preaching soon spreads.

In passing down the side of the field to where we were to stand, the sight was very touching. Nearly all have Bibles with them. They look serious and in earnest, like people bent on a purpose. The soul’s preciousness—heaven’s blessedness—hell’s wretchedness, together with the love of Christ—the value of His blood—the grace of God—and a present Holy Ghost: all rush into the mind at such a sight, producing deep exercise, and often real conflict. Relief under such felt-responsibility can only be found in looking up. The work is God’s. He only knows the condition of souls before Him. We are ignorant, and must be cast upon Him for what to say, and how to say it. And if it be really so with us, He will give the word, clothe it with power, and make it effectual in blessing. At the bottom of the field, we found a kind of table, or stage, conveniently placed for the speaker to stand upon, so that he could easily see every corner of the field.

Part of the fortieth Psalm having been sung and prayer offered, the preacher took for his text, Luke 18:37, “Jesus of Nazareth passeth by,” in connection with the cry of the poor blind beggar, “Jesus, thou son of David, have mercy on me.” The willingness and readiness of Christ to hear the cry for mercy, from whatever quarter of the multitude it came, had not been long dwelt upon, when a woman near to the speaker became affected, and began to cry out. Several spoke to her, and she soon became quiet. But in less than half an hour, numbers were weeping—several were stricken in different parts of the field, and crying aloud for mercy. There was now something like a general movement in the congregation. Every affected and stricken one requires attention, but they generally receive more than they require. Their touching, pitiful cry to Jesus for mercy creates a sympathy in others, and melts all hearts around them.

It now became evident that a change in the service should take place. Sometimes a psalm, or a hymn, has the effect of soothing and quieting the distressed ones. The noise and stir are too great for audible prayer. We then sang, with the chorus, the well-known hymn commencing with

“There is a fountain fill’d with blood,

Drawn from Immanuel’s veins;

And sinners, plunged beneath that flood,

Lose all their guilty stains.

I can believe, I do believe,

That Jesus died for me.

Upon the cross, He bowed His head.

Yes, Jesus died for me.”

The effect was what we had anticipated, most happy. A second speaker now addressed the assembly, on the deeply important subject of a present salvation—on believing the truth—receiving Christ—knowing the forgiveness of sins—and rejoicing in a full salvation just now. This is a point of immense importance in preaching the gospel. It has been blessedly revived during the present Revival. “All things are now ready.” There is no need for farther waiting. The first look, or touch, of faith is salvation. The moment that the finger of faith touches the hem of the Redeemer’s garment, divine virtue flows forth from Him and fills the sinner’s soul. There is no virtue in any of us. It is all in Him. So that whosoever toucheth Him, if it be only the touch of faith, it goes to the Saviour’s heart, unlocks its treasures, and immediately a healing, saving, heavenly virtue flows forth, and the fountain of the soul’s disease is dried up. The very source of sin is reached, and every transgression of the life forgiven. All, all-source and stream, root and branch-are forever put away, in virtue of the atoning blood of the heavenly Lamb. “Daughter, be of good comfort, thy faith hath made thee whole: go in peace.” (Luke 8:48.) “To him give all the prophets witness, that through his name whosoever believeth in him shall receive remission of sins.” Acts 10:43.

Numbers of anxious hearers were now gathered closely around the speaker. At some little distance, and in different parts of the field, there were still souls in distress, and praying to the Lord for pardon. The first speaker found his way amongst them, and spoke with them individually. This was deeply interesting work. We heard from their own lips how they were affected both in body and soul. All of them were in a lying position. Some had been stricken before. Some, we found were lamenting, and confessing their past coldness to the Saviour. And so deep were their convictions, that the more tenderly we spoke to them of the unupbraiding love of Jesus, the more deep and piercing were their cries. The heart was like to break. “Oh, I have been ungrateful—ungrateful,” they exclaimed, and, “Oh, my Jesus—my Jesus!” Others were crying for mercy—and some had found it, and were rejoicing.

But in every case, as it was last year, physical prostration seemed to accompany this character of impression. We questioned some particularly, who were not very ill, and they told us, that whenever they were affected, whether when sitting or standing, they were inclined to lie down. Sometimes they fall suddenly. We have observed it begin with rapid loud breathing, the face flushing, the chest heaving very much, the tears flowing plentifully, and, in most cases, with evident internal agony. Some become utterly speechless, and apparently unconscious of all that is passing around. Others express great agony of mind—the hands clasped and raised, and crying earnestly according to what may be experienced within. “Oh, Jesus! Jesus!” precedes almost every utterance of their lips. We observed the same thing both in men and women.

The shadows of the evening had now begun to gather over the field, but the bright beams of God’s boundless grace had gladdened many a heart, and there was no desire to separate. The speaker had concluded his discourse, and all stood up for prayer; towards the close of which, the emotion became more general than before. It was as if a fresh breeze of the Holy Spirit’s power had fanned all hearts into a flame. The speaker’s voice became indistinct. The loud and hearty “Amen” of some—the screams, and the weeping sounds of others, were uppermost. For a few moments we stood silent—overcome, and could only in heart, breathe, “O God, bless this congregation, save every soul in this field by thy grace. Let the balm of Gilead be applied by the Physician there. Let every heart be healed, and all mouths filled with Thy praise.” Two men came forward, and begged of us to give out the fortieth or the twenty-third Psalm, which all the people knew. “By all means,” we said, “if you wish, but we must get in amongst the people.” It was now so dark that we could only distinguish each other when close together.

After speaking with the most of them and giving away a large number of tracts, we parted, reluctantly, with the dear people, about ten o’clock. But, blessed be God, not forever. We shall meet again in heaven, around the person of our Lord, to part no more forever. A bright and cloudless morning will soon dawn. Numbers gathered around the car after we were seated for our journey, and again we joined in praise to God. Eleven long Irish miles now lay between us and home, which we reached, through the good providence of our God, about one o’clock.

This will give our readers some idea of the laborious work of carrying the gospel into these country parts. It can only be done by means of car-traveling at night; the poor people can only be gathered together after their day’s work is over. And the invitations are so numerous and urgent, that those who have a heart for the work will find plenty to do. But the day is near at hand when the Divine Master shall reward “every man according as his work shall be.” “Blessed are those servants, whom the Lord, when he cometh, shall find watching: verily, I say unto you, that he shall gird himself, and make them to sit down to meat, and will come forth and serve them. Luke 12:37.

The following verses, written by a young convert near Moore Fort, after her conversion, in the summer of 1859 will be read with interest, chiefly on account of the circumstances. She fell asleep in Jesus last June.

On My Own Conversion

I was a barren fig tree,

No fruit upon me grew,

But the green leaves of profession,

In number, not a few,

Until the Spirit said to me,

“You fruit must henceforth bring;
I will no longer bear with you, I’ll cut you off in sin.”

These were the words that pierced my heart,

They brought conviction home;

My sins, they lay upon my soul,

Too heavy to be borne.

“You now do see yourself as lost,”

The Saviour said to me;

“I’ll take your sins that many are,
From them I’ll set you free.”

Self-righteousness was then condemned,

I peace and pardon found;

The streams that flowed on Calvary

Have cured me of my wound.

And when both doubts and fears arise,

My Saviour says to me,
“Why do you fear the shadow,
The substance lay on me.”

The heart is a deceitful thing,

I must not look within;

I’ll look to Jesus; and by Him

I’m freed from all my sin.

To God I’ll give the glory.

For what He’s done for me,

In the giving of His only Son,

To bleed and die for me.

Sanctification: What Is It? Part 2

We trust that no one will accuse us of entertaining a desire to lower the standard of personal holiness, or to weaken the soul’s earnest aspirations after a growth in that purity, for which every true believer must ardently long. God forbid! If there is one thing above another which we desire to promote in ourselves and others, it is intense personal purity—an elevated tone of practical sanctity—a whole-hearted separation from moral evil, in every shape and form. For this we long, for this we pray, in this we desire to grow, daily and hourly.

But then we are fully convinced that a superstructure of true, practical holiness can never be erected on a legal basis; and hence it is that we press 1 Cor. 1:30 upon the attention of our readers. It is to be feared that many who have, in some measure, abandoned the legal ground, in the matter of “righteousness,” are yet lingering thereon for “sanctification.” We believe this to be the mistake of thousands, and we are most anxious to see it corrected. The passage before us would, if simply received into the heart by faith, entirely correct this serious mistake.

All intelligent Christians are agreed as to the fundamental truth of “Righteousness without works.” All freely and fully admit that we cannot, by any efforts of our own, work out a righteousness for ourselves before God. But it is not just so clearly seen, that righteousness and sanctification are put upon precisely the same ground in the word of God. We can no more work out a sanctification than we can work out a righteousness. We may try it, but we shall, sooner or later, find out that it is utterly vain. We may vow and resolve; we may labor and struggle; we may cherish the fond hope of doing better tomorrow than we have done today; but, in the end, we must be constrained to see, and feel, and own, that, as regards the matter of sanctification, we are as completely “without strength” as we have already proved ourselves to be in the matter of righteousness.

And, oh! what sweet relief to the one who has been stumbling along the path of personal holiness to find, after years of unsuccessful struggle, that the very thing he longs for is treasured up in Christ, and is ready to his hand this moment, even a complete sanctification to be enjoyed by faith! Such an one may have been battling with his habits, his lusts, his tempers, his passions; he has been making the most laborious efforts to subdue his flesh and grow in inward holiness, but, alas! he has failed. He finds, to his deep sorrow, that he is not holy, and yet he reads that “Without holiness no man can see the Lord.” (Heb. 12) Not, observe, without a certain measure, or attainment, in holiness; but without the thing itself; which every Christian has, from the moment he believes, whether he knows it or not. Perfect sanctification is as fully included in the word “salvation,” as is “wisdom, righteousness, or redemption.” He did not get Christ by effort, but by faith; and when he laid hold on Christ, he received all that is in Christ. Hence, therefore, he has only to look to Jesus by faith, for the subjugation of his lusts, passions, tempers, habits, circumstances, and influences. He must look to Jesus for all. He can no more subdue a single lust than he could cancel the entire catalog of his sins, work out a perfect righteousness, or raise the dead. “Christ is all and in all.” Salvation is a golden chain which stretches from everlasting to everlasting, and every link of that chain is Christ. It is all Christ from first to last.

All this is as simple as possible. The believer’s standing is in Christ, and if in Christ for one thing, he is in Christ for all. I am not in Christ for righteousness, and out of Christ for sanctification. If I am a debtor to Christ for righteousness, I am equally a debtor to Him for sanctification. I am not a debtor to legality for either the one or the other. I get both by grace, through faith, and all in Christ. Yes, all-all in Christ. The moment the sinner comes to Christ, and believes on Him, he is taken completely off the old ground of nature; he loses his old legal standing and all its belongings, and is looked at as in Christ. God only sees him in Christ, and as Christ. He becomes one with Christ forever. “As he is, so are we in this world.” (1 John 4) Such is the absolute standing, the settled and eternal position, of the very feeblest babe in the family of God. There is but one standing for every child of God, every member of Christ. Their knowledge, experience, power, gift, and intelligence may vary; but their standing is one. Whatever of righteousness or sanctification, they possess, they owe it all to their being in Christ; consequently, if they have not gotten a perfect sanctification, neither have they gotten a perfect righteousness. But 1 Cor. 1:30 distinctly teaches, that Christ “is made” both the one and the other to all believers. It does not say that we have righteousness and “a measure of sanctification.” We have just as much Scripture authority for putting the word “measure” before righteousness as before sanctification. The Spirit of God does not put it before either. Both are perfect, and we have both in Christ. God never does anything by halves. There is no such thing as a half justification. Neither is there such a thing as a half sanctification. The idea of a member of the family of God, or of the body of Christ, wholly justified, but only half sanctified, is at once opposed to Scripture and revolting to all the sensibilities of the divine nature.

It is not improbable that very much of the misapprehension which prevails, in reference to sanctification, is justly traceable to the habit of confounding two things which differ very materially, namely, standing and walk, or position and condition. The believers standing is perfect, eternal, unchangeable, divine. His walk is imperfect, fluctuating, and marked with personal infirmity. His position is absolute and unalterable. His practical condition may exhibit manifold imperfections, inasmuch as he is still in the body, and surrounded by various hostile influences, which affect his moral condition, from day to day. If, then, his standing be measured by his walk, his position by his condition, what he is in God’s view by what he is in man’s, the result must be false. If I reason from what I am in myself, instead of from what I am in Christ, I must, of necessity, arrive at a wrong conclusion.

We should look carefully to this. We are very much disposed to reason upwards from ourselves to God, instead of downwards from God to us. We should bear in mind that

“Far as heaven’s resplendent orbs

Beyond earth’s spot extend,

As far my thoughts, as far my ways,

Your ways and thoughts transcend.”

God can only think and speak of his people, and act toward them, too, according to their standing in Christ. He has given them this standing. He has made them what they are. They are His workmanship. Hence, therefore, to speak of them as half justified would be a dishonor cast upon God; and to speak of them as half sanctified would be just the same.

This train of thought conducts us to another weighty proof, drawn from the authoritative and conclusive page of inspiration, namely, 1 Cor. 6:11. In the verses preceding, the apostle draws a fearful picture of fallen humanity, and he plainly tells the Corinthian saints that they had been just like that. “Such were some of you.” This is plain dealing. There are no flattering words-no daubing with untempered mortar—no keeping back the full truth as to nature’s total and irretrievable ruin. “Such were some of you: but ye are washed, but ye are sanctified, but ye are justified, in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God.”

What a striking contrast between the two sides of the apostle’s “but!” On the one side, we have all the moral degradation of man’s condition; and, on the other side, we have all the absolute perfectness of the believer’s standing before God. This, truly, is a marvelous contrast; and, be it remembered, that the soul passes, in the twinkling of an eye, from one side to the other of this “but.” “Such were some of you: but ye are” now, something quite different. The moment in which they received Paul’s gospel, they were “washed, sanctified, and justified.” They were tit for heaven; and, had they not been so, it would have been a slur upon the divine workmanship.

“‘Clean every whit;’ Thou saidst it, Lord;

Shall one suspicion lurk?

Thine, surely, is a faithful word,

And thine a finished work,”

This is divinely true. The most inexperienced believer is “clean every whit,” not as a matter of attainment, but as the necessary result of being in Christ. “We are in him that is true.” (1 John 5) Could anyone be in Christ, and, at the same time, be only hair sanctified? Assuredly not. He will, no doubt, grow in the knowledge and experience of what sanctification really is. He will enter into its practical power; its moral effect upon his habits, thoughts, feelings, affections, and associations; in a word, he will understand and exhibit the mighty influence of divine sanctification upon his entire course, conduct, and character. But, then, he was as completely sanctified, in God’s view, the moment he became linked to Christ by faith, as he will be when he comes to bask in the sunlight of the divine presence, and reflect back the concentrated beams of glory emanating from the throne of God and of the Lamb. He is in Christ now, and he will be in Christ then. His sphere and his circumstances will differ. His feet shall stand upon the golden pavement of the upper sanctuary, instead of standing upon the arid sand of the desert. He will be in a body of glory instead of a body of humiliation; but, as to his standing, his acceptance, his completeness, his justification, and sanctification, all was settled the moment he believed on the name of the only-begotten Son of God— as settled as ever it will be, because as settled as God could make it. All this seems to flow as a necessary and unanswerable inference from 1 Cor. 6:11.

It is of the utmost importance to apprehend, with clearness, the distinction between a truth and the practical application and result of a truth. This distinction is ever maintained in the word of God. “Ye are sanctified.” Here is the absolute truth as to the believer, as viewed in Christ, and as the fruit of an eternally-perfect work. “Christ loved the church, and gave himself for it; that he might sanctify it.” (Eph. 5:25, 26); “And the very God of peace sanctify you wholly.” (1 Thess. 5:20.) Here we have the practical application of the truth to the believer, and its results in the believer.

But how is this application made, and this result reached? By the Holy Ghost, through the written word. Hence, we read, “sanctify them through thy truth.” (John 17) And again, “God hath from the beginning chosen you to salvation, through sanctification of the Spirit and belief of the truth.” (2 Thess. 2:13.) So also, in Peter, “Elect according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through sanctification of the Spirit.” (1 Pet. 1:2.) The Holy Ghost carries on the believer’s practical sanctification on the ground of Christ’s accomplished work; and the mode in which He does so is by applying to the heart and conscience the truth as it is in Jesus. He unfolds the truth as to our perfect standing before God in Christ, and, by energizing the new man in us, He enables us to put away everything incompatible with that perfect standing. A man who is “washed, sanctified, and justified,” ought not to indulge in any unhallowed temper, lust, or passion. He should “cleanse himself from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit.” It is his holy and happy privilege to breathe after the very loftiest heights of personal sanctity. His heart and his habits should be brought and held under the power of that grand truth that he is perfectly “washed, sanctified, and justified.”

This is true practical sanctification. It is not any attempt at the improvement of our old nature. It is not a vain effort to reconstruct an irretrievable ruin. No; it is simply the Holy Ghost, by the powerful application of “the truth” enabling the new man to live, and move, and have his being in that sphere to which he belongs. Here there will, undoubtedly, be progress. There will be growth in the moral power of this precious truth—growth in spiritual ability to subdue and keep under all that pertains to nature—a growing power of separation from the evil around us—a growing meetness for that heaven to which we belong, and toward which we are journeying-a growing capacity for the enjoyment of its holy exercises. All this there will be, through the gracious ministry of the Holy Ghost, who uses the word of God to unfold to our souls the truth as to our standing in Christ, and as to the walk which comports with that standing. But let it be clearly understood that the work of the Holy Ghost in practical sanctification, day by day, is founded upon the fact that believers “are sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once.” (Heb. 10:10.) The object of the Holy Ghost is to lead us into the knowledge, the experience, and the practical exhibition of that which was true of us in Christ, the very moment we believed. As regards this, there is progress, but our standing in Christ is eternally complete.

“Sanctify them through thy truth thy word is truth” (John 17:17). And again, “The very God of peace sanctify you wholly.” (1 Thess. 5:23.) In these passages, we have the grand practical side of this question. Here we see sanctification presented, not merely as something absolutely and eternally true of us in Christ, but also as wrought out in us, daily and hourly, by the Holy Ghost through the Word. Looked at from this point of view, sanctification is, obviously, a progressive thing. I should be more advanced in personal holiness in the year 1860 than I was in the year 1809. I should, through grace, be advancing, day by day, in practical holiness. But what, let me ask, is this? What, but the working out in me of that which was true of me in Christ, the very moment I believed? The basis on which the Holy Ghost carries on the subjective work in the believer, is the objective truth of his eternal completeness in Christ.

Again, “Follow peace with all men, and holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord.” (Heb. 12:14.) Here, holiness is presented as a thing to be “followed after”—to be attained by earnest pursuit—a thing which every true believer will long to cultivate.

May the Lord lead us into the power of these things! May they not dwell as doctrines and dogmas in the region of our intellect, but enter into and abide in the heart, as sacred and powerfully influential realities! May we know the sanctifying power of the truth (John 17:17); the sanctifying power of faith (Acts 26:18); the sanctifying power of the name of Jesus (1 Cor. 1:30; 6:11); the sanctifying power of the Holy Spirit (1 Pet. 1:2); the sanctifying grace of the Father (Jude 1).

And, now, unto the Father, and unto the Son, and unto the Holy Ghost, be honor and glory, might, majesty, and dominion, world without end. Amen.

The Work of God in Scotland

London, 10th October, 1860

My dear Brother,

Since my return, I have heard with pleasure from different persons, that the short account of the Lord’s work in my letter from Μ—, was both interesting and refreshing to many, I believe the feelings produced on hearing of such wondrous grace to sinners, depends much on the state of our own minds at the time. If really in communion with the Lord, and cherishing His unselfish love towards others we will rejoice exceedingly, and like the disciples of old we will lift up our voices with one accord, in praise and thanksgiving to God. I feel as if we had come far short in acknowledging God’s mercy to sinners in the assemblies of His saints. I suppose the joy in heaven over repenting sinners is expressed in singing. (Luke 15) There is often, doubtless, a most becoming silence with respect to many announced cases of conversion, still, when the work is clearly and manifestly of God, it deserves a note of loftiest praise.

The kindred subject, prayer, is also getting a place now, in connection with evangelistic work, which is most cheering and encouraging. A few months ago, the following statement was made to me by one who has been long in the Lord’s service. “I have now been a preacher of the gospel for about thirty years; and during that time I am not aware that I ever preached without first having prayed about it, and generally both in private and public. But I confess I never made it much a matter of prayer afterward. And now, when I witness so much blessing in immediate connection with special prayer after preaching, I feel that I have been wrong on this point, as a preacher, all my life. This, I am sure, is both the experience and sentiment of many. Take another practical case. One evening lately, I hurried from W—, to Μ—, where dear S—was preaching. It was near ten o’clock when I arrived, still, there were small groups to be seen, in close conversation, in different parts of the Hall. I knew the character of the services, and had counted on the Lord for blessing. I asked a well-known friend if there had been much blessing? The following reply was given, which I felt at the time to be most instructive. “We saw none until there was power in prayer. There did not seem much impression produced during the preaching, nor until the second or third prayer after; when God gave great power in prayer. Then numbers were broken down, and some of them have found peace through conversation.” How fully this statement agrees with what has been often witnessed, and shows the importance of waiting on God, and of earnest prayer to Him for the blessing, especially if conversion be the preacher’s object.

We were greatly interested in visiting Kells, and the old school-house in the parish of Connor. The associations are deeply interesting. We saw Wallace and Carlisle, two of the four young men who first met for prayer in the old school-house (M’Quilkin and Meneely were from home), and heard from their own lips the few circumstances that led to their meeting for prayer. These were few and simple, but God was with them. They had been brought into peace with God themselves. Their own hearts had been made to burn with earnest desire for the salvation of others. They agreed together to meet for prayer, and wait on God, not seeing their way clear to act, or knowing how God might use them. The old school-house, just outside of Kells, was the chosen spot, because it stood alone in a quiet place. The meeting was intended to be very private, and confined to believers. After preaching to a very good audience in Kelts, we went to the school-house for prayer. Wallace, Carlisle, Meneely’s father and mother, M’Quilkin’s brother, and several others, who, at an early period of the work were associated with them, were all present, and joined in prayer and praise to God, in remembrance of His great goodness.

As we lingered about the hallowed spot, I could not help gazing and musing on the humble scene which God has chosen for the commencement of His great work. The place—the men, how humble! Yet within these four rough walls the first breath of prayer ascended to heaven, which has since been answered in such showers of blessing: and from whence has issued that stream—nay, those floods of blessing which have filled and fertilized so many souls, not only in Ireland, but in many, and far distant lands. To God alone be all the praise. We felt the place to be dear to our hearts, knowing it was dear to the heart of Christ.

But I must now tell you a little about Scotland. When we arrived in Glasgow, letters were waiting, urging us to come through to the east country; assuring us that there was a great and blessed work of God on the east coast. We went on Thursday and returned again on Saturday. So I must give you a brief account of those two evenings. They will be long remembered by many.

As some of our relations were staying at a place called Cockenzie, for the benefit of the sea-bathing, which is about eight miles south-east of Edinburgh, some arrangement was made with the coast missionary about my taking part in the meeting on Thursday evening. It was his regular week—evening meeting in that place. He is evidently an earnest hearty man, and well fitted to labor amongst the fishing villages along the coast, which, in many places, has been the scene of a most blessed awakening. He has been much used of God in conversion. The meeting was held in the village school-house. It may hold about 120 people. It was well packed, and almost entirely by the fishing population, a class, hitherto, extremely careless about spiritual things. But the Lord has been doing a great work amongst them, ever since the spring of this year.

I addressed them from Christ’s own question to the Pharisees, “What think ye of Christ?” and pressed the immediate and eternal importance of this question of questions. There was great attention, and here and there some were weeping. I felt the atmosphere to be good. It was genial, causing the heart to expand. I felt assured there would be the manifestation of the power of God, During the prayer meeting many were affected, but I observed two women sitting closely together, looking very distressed, yet shedding no tears. They looked like mother and daughter, which I afterward learned they were. My heart was drawn towards them. I first asked the younger, if she was happy in Jesus?

“Oh, no, sir!” she replied, “I am not happy; I am very unhappy.”

“But there is enough in Jesus to make you happy, if you receive Him.”

“I know that, and I have been trying a long time, but I don’t seem to understand the way.”

After saying a few words about God’s way of salvation, I spoke to the mother, when something like the following conversation took place:

“Well, and has God’s grace visited your heart in these blessed times?”

“Oh, no, sir! Mercy seems to come to everybody’s door but mine.” This was said rather despairingly.

“Well, now, tell me, do you believe that Jesus died for you a sinner?”

“Yes, I believe that He died for us sinners.”

“And can you believe that Jesus died for you as a poor lost sinner, and yet say, no mercy has come to my door?”

“I know that, but it has not come to me yet; everybody seems to get blessing but me.”

“Well, if it has not yet come to you, it has come for you, if you will only believe it, and receive it. Can you think of God giving His beloved Son to die for you on the cross, and say there is no mercy in Christ for you? But tell me this, what did Christ shed on the cross?”

“He shed His blood.”

“For what purpose?”

“That our sins might be washed away.”

“And is there power in it to wash all our sins away, if we depend on it?”

“Oh, yes, sir! I do believe that.”

“Well, then, can you trust it? If you do, your sins are all forgiven; mercy has come to you; only believe it. Surely, if Jesus so loved us as to lay down His life for us, and shed His precious blood that our sins might be put away, we should love that blessed Jesus, and put all our trust in Him. Oh, do believe that He loves you now, and died on the cross for you, and give your whole heart to Him.”

The room was very full still, comparatively few had gone away, and conversation was going on in different parts; but the Spirit of God was causing His own blessed truth to burn in the heart of this mother. After a few moments silence, when she could no longer suppress her deep emotion, she fell on her knees, raised her hands, and, with a loud touching voice, prayed to God for mercy. Then she addressed Jesus, as the Lamb, the bleeding Lamb of Calvary. Her appeals to Jesus were enough to melt a heart of stone. Over and over again she exclaimed, with an earnestness of tone and manner that told of a heart within being broken to pieces, “Oh! Thou precious Lamb of God, and didst Thou bleed and die on that accursed tree for me, a poor sinful creature? Oh! Lamb of God! Oh! Thou precious Lamb of God! Come to me this night! Oh! come to me this very night! Put all my sins away, and save my soul.” Such was the burden of her prayer, and she continued for some time. The daughter, as you may imagine, was thoroughly broken, and weeping at the feet of Jesus, and so were many others. But all praise to God, both mother and daughter rose from their knees, confessing they were now happy in Jesus. They believed that the blood of Jesus Christ, God’s Son, had cleansed them from all sin. Other three or four made the same confession. Joy filled our hearts. The missionary then gave out two verses of a hymn in praise to God. It was now near eleven o’clock, and he thought we should send the people away home. He said he had been found fault with for late meetings. So I agreed, and we proposed to separate, but the people were unwilling to go. They then asked me to come back the following evening, which I agreed to do. It was altogether a heart-stirring scene. To see those poor, and hitherto utterly careless, people in such deep concern about their souls, was worth a long journey to witness. And so many of them are happy now, both the fishermen, their wives, and children, are rejoicing in God’s great salvation. We were told that the men hold prayer meetings on board their boats when out at sea. The work here has been much helped on by means of hymns. We were told that the women going about their work, and the children on the streets, may be heard throughout the day singing their favorite hymns. What a change! God has wrought it. The praise alone be His.

Friday evening. The school-house being engaged until nine o’clock, this evening, with a Bible-class of young men, I preached in the open air. The evening was fine, and there was a much larger congregation than we could have had in the school. Many of the sea-bathers were present, who would not have gone into the school-house. But who, think you, were the first to catch my eye, seated on the green? The mother and the daughter, seated in the front row, with the Bible in their hands. I thought they were happy. I spoke to them immediately after the preaching, and found it was so. They assured me that not a doubt remained on their minds as to their forgiveness and acceptance. At this moment, an old woman stepped forward, and said, “I wish I could say so.” The daughter then began to explain to her the gospel, which she herself, through grace, had believed the previous evening. I could only praise God for the wondrous change, and the new evangelist.

We reached the school-house a little before it was ready for us. However, the people stood in groups about the door waiting till it would be opened. I then had an opportunity of speaking with several about their souls, and the previous evening. I found there were great expectations in some minds as to the blessing we would have that evening. An earnest, intelligent Christian said to me, “I have seen six today who found peace last evening, and a great many were deeply impressed. We are counting upon a great blessing tonight.” “That’s right,” I replied, but I questioned if my own heart was up to such expectations. I felt strengthened, however, and lifted up, too. No sooner was the door open than the people rushed in, and filled the place.

The prayer meeting commenced immediately. Several godly, earnest men of the place, and some warm-hearted young converts, were present and took part. One young man prayed with peculiar fervor and unction, many were weeping, another and another prayed, with a word of exhortation and a hymn coming in between. Near ten o’clock while one was praying, a remarkable wave of divine power seemed to roll over the meeting. It was indeed a wave of richest grace, from the shoreless ocean of eternal love; and which carried back to its source the happy fruits of its gracious mission. All hearts were touched. Boys and girls, old and young, began to pray aloud for mercy. The praying brothers, and all around the desk where I stood, were weeping and sobbing heavily. At one moment nearly all that were in the room were overcome. Indeed, I would have pitied the one who was not. Still, it was quite different from the striking and screaming in the north of Ireland. There was no physical prostration. They wept much, and prayed above their breath, some aloud. So you may imagine the thrilling effect of such a scene. I believe it would have awed and silenced the boldest infidel.

After a little while, when the people began to quiet down, and the workmen were able to resume their work, we commenced individual conversation with them. The Lord had indeed been working in hearts, and He soon gave us the joy of gathering fruit into His garner. Upwards of a dozen boys and girls confessed, without a seeming doubt, that they had been brought to God. But the day alone will declare the blessed fruits of that evening. And that will be the best and safest time to know it all. We then sung,

“Salvation! Ο the joyful sound!

What pleasure to our ears! “

with the chorus,

“Glory, honor, praise, and power,

Be unto the Lamb forever;

Jesus Christ is our Redeemer,

Halleluiah, praise ye the Lord.”

It was now half-past eleven, and however unwillingly, it was high time to separate. You must imagine the affectionate good-byes. Some of the poor women had all their children with them, having no servant to leave them in charge of, and we had about a six-mile drive to my brother-in-law’s, which, by the good hand of our God upon us, we reached safely, and I may add, filled with praise and thanksgiving to Him from whom all blessings flow.

We had a very pleasing interview with Mr. Gall, of Edinburgh, on our way back, on Saturday, and heard from his own lips a most interesting history of the revival movement in connection with the Carrubbers Close Mission. It is now published. There is, doubtless, a great and blessed work of God’s Spirit, in connection with that mission. It resembles, in some points of view, the great work in the Wynds in Glasgow, though very different in others. We found that great and glorious work in the Wynds as fresh as ever, and dear Mark M’Coll preaching from his famous stone pulpit, to large congregations every Lord’s day evening. Some say five thousand, some seven. Morally and socially, the poorest of the poor, and the vilest of the vile. Immediately after preaching, the people are invited into the church for the prayer meeting, which holds about 1,500, and is instantly filled. May God deepen and extend that blessed work.

Ever most affectionately yours in Jesus, until He come.

Jesus Is Mine

Now I have found a Friend,

Jesus is mine;

His love shall never end,

Jesus is mine.

Though earthly joys decrease,

Though human friendships cease.

Now I have lasting peace:

Jesus is mine.

When earth shall pass away,

Jesus is mine;

In the great judgment day,

Jesus is mine.

Oh! what a glorious thing,

Then to behold my King,

On tuneful harp to sing,

Jesus is mine!

Farewell, mortality!

Jesus is mine;

Welcome eternity!

Jesus is mine.

He my Redemption is,

Wisdom and Righteousness,

Life, Light, and Holiness,

Jesus is mine.

Father, thy name I bless,

Jesus is mine;

Thine was the sovereign grace,

Jesus is mine.

Spirit of holiness,

Sealing the Father’s grace,

Thou mad’st my soul embrace

Jesus as mine.

A Wise and Safe Thing to Do

“Thy word have I hid in my heart that I might not sin against thee.” Psa 119:11.

This, truly, is a wise and a safe thing to do. Let us ponder it. Let us understand it. Let us imitate it. There are three special points suggested, namely, What have I hid? Where have I hid it? Why have 1 hid it? The reader will easily remember what? where? why?

1. What have I hid? “Thy word.” It is not man’s word, but the word of God, that liveth and abideth forever. This is the thing to hide. It is a treasure worth hiding. No thief can steal it, no moth corrupt it. It increases by being hidden in the way here spoken of. We cannot set too high a value upon the word of God. So the Psalmist thought when he “hid” it. This expression sets forth how intensely he prized the word. “I have hid it.” He placed it out of the reach of everyone and everything that could deprive him of it. May we ponder it—may we understand it—may we imitate it!

2. Where have I hid it? “In my heart.” It was not in his head or in his intellect; but in his heart-the seat of his affections—the center of his moral being—the source of all the influences that swayed his entire career. This is the right place to hide the word. It is not hiding it under a bed, or under a bushel, or in the earth. It is not basely cushioning it, through a slavish dread of men, lest they should sneer at us. or oppose us. No, my reader, this will not do. We must hide the word where the Psalmist hid it, even in the heart. May we ponder this-may we understand it—may we imitate it!

3. Why have I hid it? For a very weighty reason— a most important reason. “That I might not sin against? thee.” It was not that he might have a rich fund of new ideas to talk about and show off upon. Nor yet was it that he might be able to confound in argument all his opposers, and silence them. The Psalmist did not care about any of these things. He had a horror of sin— a holy horror; he knew that the most effectual safeguard against sin was the word of God, and therefore he hid it in his heart. May we ponder this—may we understand it—may we imitate it!

Bright Thoughts

My cheerful soul now all the day

Sits waiting here and sings,

Looks through the ruins of her clay,

And practices her wings.

Faith almost changes into sight,

While from afar she spies

Her fair inheritance in light,

Above created skies.

Had but the prison walls been strong,

And firm without a flaw,

In darkness she had dwelt too long,

And less of glory saw.

But now the everlasting hills

Through every chink appear;

And something of the joy she feels

While she’s a prisoner here.

Some rays from heaven break sweetly in

At all the opening flaws;

Visions of endless bliss are seen,

And native air she draws.

WATTS’S LYRICS.

What Is a Castaway?

“But I keep under my body, and bring it into subjection; lest that, by any means, when I have preached to others, I myself should be a castaway.” 1 Cor. 9:27.

This passage has perplexed and troubled many an earnest heart. Many have argued thus, while pondering the above solemn scripture, “If such a one as Paul was uncertain as to the issue of his course, who, then, can be sure?” But was he uncertain as to the issue? By no means. The verse immediately preceding teaches us the very opposite: “I therefore so run, not as uncertainly; so fight I, not as one that beateth the air” Paul knew quite well how the whole matter was to terminate, so far as he was concerned. He could say, “I know whom (not merely what) I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day.” (2 Tim. 1:12.) And again, “I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Rom. 8:38, 39.

These scriptures are amply sufficient to prove that Paul had not so much as a shadow of a doubt as to his eternal security. “I know”— I am persuaded” There is nothing like doubt or uncertainty in such utterances. Ah, no! Paul knew better. His foundation was as stable as the throne of God. Whatever of certainty Christ could afford, that Paul possessed. He, surely, had not abandoned all that this world could give for a doubtful salvation —a doubtful prospect—a doubtful future. Had he done so, Festus might truly have said, “Paul, thou art beside thyself.” We are fully convinced, that, so far as Paul was concerned, from the moment, in which the scales dropped from his eyes in the city of Damascus, until he was offered up in the city of Rome, his heart never once harbored a single doubt, a single fear, a single misgiving. “He was troubled on every side, yet not distressed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed.” Yea, in the midst of all his conflict and trouble, he could say, “Our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.” 2 Cor. 4:17.

Paul had no doubts or fears, as to the final issue. Neither should anyone, who has truly come to Christ, inasmuch as He Himself has said, “Him that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out.” (John 6:37.) No one, who is really cast upon Christ, will ever be cast away from Him. This is a divine axiom—a fundamental truth—an eternal reality. Christ is responsible for every lamb in the flock. The counsels of God have made Him so—the love of His own heart has made Him so—the Holy Scriptures declare Him to be so. Not one of Christ’s blood-bought lambs can ever be lost, not one can ever be cast away. They are all as safe as He can make them-as safe as Himself.

But what, then, does Paul mean when he says, “Lest I myself should be a castaway?” If he does not mean to convey the idea of uncertainty, as to his personal security in Christ, what then does he mean? I believe the expression applies not to his future prospects, but his present service—not to his heavenly home, but his earthly path—not to his eternal privileges, but his present responsibilities. Paul was a servant as well as a son; and he exercised himself, and kept his body in subjection, “lest that by any means he might be disapproved of.” The body is a good servant, but a bad master; and, if not kept down, will altogether disqualify the servant of Christ for the discharge of his high and holy responsibilities. A person may be a child of God, and yet be “disapproved” as a servant of Christ. To be an efficient servant of Christ involves self-denial, self-judgment, self-emptiness, self-control. I do not become a child of God by these exercises; but, most assuredly, I shall never be a successful servant of Christ without them.

This distinction is very plain and very important. We are too prone to think, that the question of our personal security is the only one of any moment to us. This is a mistake. God has secured that; and He tells us so, in order that, with free hearts, we may run the race, carry on the warfare, fulfill the service We do not run, fight, or work for life; we have gotten life-eternal life, ere we take a single step in the Christian race, strike a blow in the Christian warfare, or perform a single act of Christian service. A dead man could not run a race; but a living man must run “lawfully,” else he cannot be crowned. So, also, in reference to the servant of Christ. He must deny himself; he must keep nature down; he must keep his body in subjection, else he will be disapproved of and set aside, as a servant unfit for the Master’s work, a vessel not “meet for the Master’s use.” A true believer can never, by any possibility, lose his relationship to Christ, or the eternal dignities and privileges connected therewith; but he can lose his present meetness for service. He may so act as to be disapproved of as a workman. Solemn thought!

We have, in the person of John Mark, an illustration of the principle laid down in 1 Cor. 9:27. In Acts 13:5 he was counted worthy to be associated with Paul in the ministry. In Acts 15:38 he was disapproved; and in 2 Tim. 4:11 he was again acknowledged as a profitable servant. Now, John was as truly a child of God, a saved person, a believer in Christ, when Paul rejected him as a co-worker, as when he at first acknowledged him, and finally restored him to confidence. In no case was the question of his personal salvation raised. It was altogether a matter of fitness for service. It is very evident, that the influence of natural affection had been allowed to act on John’s heart, and to unfit him, in Paul’s judgment, for that great work which he, as the steward of Christ, was carrying on.

If my reader will turn to Judg. 7 he will find another example, which strikingly illustrates our principle. What was the great question raised with respect to Gideon’s company? Was it as to whether a man was an Israelite- a son of Abraham-a circumcised member of the congregation? By no means. What then? Simply as to whether he was a fit vessel for the service then in hand. And what was it that rendered a man fit for such service? Confidence in God, and self-denial. (See ver. 3 & 6.) Those who were fearful were rejected (v. 3). And those who consulted their own ease were rejected (v. 7). Now, the thirty-one thousand seven hundred, that were rejected, were as truly Israelites as were the three hundred that were approved; but the former were not fit servants, the latter were.

All this is easily understood. There is no difficulty, if the heart be not careful to make difficulties for itself. Many passages of the Word, which are designed to act on the conscience of the servant, are used to alarm the heart of the child; many that are only intended to admonish us, in reference to our responsibility, are used to make us question our relationship.

May the Lord increase in us the grace of a discerning mind, and enable us to distinguish between things that differ, so that while our hearts enter into the sweetness and tranquillizing power of those words, “Him that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out” our conscience may also feel the solemnity of our position as servants, and recoil from everything that might cause us to be set aside, as an unclean vessel, which the Master cannot take up and use.

May we ever remember that, while as children of God, we are eternally safe, yet as servants of Christ, we may be disapproved of and set aside.

Self-Denial

“If only we exercise a little self-denial every day, we shall get on to heaven very comfortably.” What a volume of wholesome practical truth in this brief utterance! The path of self-denial is the Christian’s true path. “If any man,” says Christ, “will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me.” (Luke 9:23.) Mark, it is not, “let him deny certain things belonging to himself.” No, he must “deny himself;” and this is a “daily” thing. Each morning, as we rise and enter afresh upon the pathway of daily life, we have the same grand and all-important work before us, namely, to deny self.

This hateful self will meet us at every step; for, although we know, through grace, that “our old man is crucified”— that it is dead and buried out of God’s sight, still this is only as regards our standing in Christ, according to God’s view of us. We know, alas! that self has to be denied, judged, and subjugated, every day, every hour, and every moment. The principle of our standing must be wrought out in practice. God sees us perfect in Christ. We are not in the flesh, but the flesh is in us, and it must be denied and kept under by the power of the Spirit.

And, be it remembered, that it is not merely in its grossness that self must be denied, but in its refinement— not merely in its low habits, but in its cultivated tastes— not merely in its roughness and rudeness, but in its most polished and elegant forms. This is not always seen. It too often happens that, like Saul, we spare that which we consider “the best,” and bring the edge of the sword to bear only upon “the vile and refuse.” This will never do. It is self that must be denied. Yes, self, in all the length and breadth of that comprehensive word. Not merely some special branches, but the great parent stem—not merely some accessories of nature, but nature itself. It is a comparatively easy matter to deny certain things pertaining to self, while self is pampered and gratified all the time. I may deny my appetite to feed my religious pride. I may starve myself to minister to my love of money. I may wear shabby clothes while I pride myself in sumptuous furniture and a splendid equipage. Hence, the need of being reminded that we must deny self.

And, oh! who can sum up all that is contained in this weighty word, self-denial? Self acts everywhere. In the closet, in the family, in the shop, in the railway carriage, in the street-everywhere, at all times, and under all circumstances. It has its tastes and its habits, its prejudices and predilections, its likings and its dislikings. It must be denied in all these. We may frequently detect ourselves liking our own image. This must be denied with uncommon decision.

Then again in matters of religion, we like those who suit us, who agree and sympathize with us, who admire our opinions or mode of propounding them. All this must be brought under the sharp edge of the knife of self-denial. If not, we may find ourselves despising some dear and honored Christian, simply because of something which does not suit us; and, on the other hand, we shall laud to the skies some hollow, worthless character, just because of some feature which we like. Indeed, of all the ten thousand shapes, which self assumes, there is not one more hateful than that of religion. Clad in this garb it will make itself the center of a clique, confine its affections within that narrow enclosure, and call that Christian communion. Forth, from this contracted circle, it will diligently expel very one who happens to have a single disagreeable point or angle. It will obstinately refuse to accommodate itself to the scruples and infirmities of others. As to these it will not yield a single hair’s breadth, while, at the same time, it will surrender any amount of truth in order to hold fellowship with its own image. All this is terrible and should be most sedulously guarded against.

If my reader will study carefully 1 Cor. 8-10, he will find a most precious lesson on the subject of self-denial. The heading of this entire section might be thus worded, “Any length in self-denial; not an inch in surrendering truth.” This should ever be the Christian’s motto. If it be merely a question of self, surrender all; if it be a question of truth, surrender nothing. “If meat make my brother to offend, I will eat no flesh while the world standeth, lest I make my brother to offend.” (chap. 8:13.) Noble resolution! May we have grace to carry it out!

Again, “Though I be free from all, yet have I made myself servant unto all, that I might gain the more...... I am made all things to all, that I might by all means save some.” (chap 9:19-22.) “Let no man seek his own” The very thing we are so ready to seek. “But every man another’s wealth.” The very last thing we feel disposed to do.

It is important and very needful to observe that when the apostle declares that he was “made all things to all,” it was entirely a matter of self-denial and not of self-indulgence. He neither indulged himself, nor surrendered a single iota of the truth of God, but made himself servant to all for their good and God’s glory. This is our model. May the Lord endow us with grace to imitate it! We are called to surrender not only our points and angles, prejudices and predilections, but also our personal rights for the profit of others. This is the Christian’s daily business, and it is as he is enabled to discharge it that he will walk in the footsteps of Jesus, and “get on comfortably to heaven.”

The Double Intercession

(Rom. 8:26-34.)

In these verses we are furnished with a truth of the most precious and consolatory nature, namely, the double intercession which is being continually carried on, in our behalf. In verse 26, we have the intercession of the Holy Spirit in us; and in verse 34, we have the intercession of Christ for us. “Likewise the Spirit also helpeth our infirmities: for we know not what we should pray for as we ought. but the Spirit itself maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered.” (v. 26.) Here we have the intercession of the Holy Spirit who dwelleth in us, to help our infirmities and carry on His intercessory work with unutterable groanings. He creates desires in the soul which are too profound for utterance, and cannot be clothed in human language.

But there is more than this. We have not merely the Holy Ghost dwelling and acting in us, down here, but we have also the Lord Jesus Christ living and acting for us up in heaven. “Who is he that condemneth? It is Christ that died, yea rather, that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us.” (v. 34.) What full provision! What abounding consolation! What precious encouragement! What a mercy to know that even in our coldest, darkest, and most barren seasons—when we seem hardly able to utter a single syllable—when our hearts seem as cold and as hard as the very boards we are kneeling upon, how truly blessed, at such times, to remember the solid and soul-sustaining truth, that the Holy Ghost is groaning in us, and that Christ takes those unuttered groans and presents them to the Father, in all the preciousness and acceptableness of the One who produces them, and the One who presents them! The double intercession is continually going on. Morning, noon, eventide, and midnight, the Holy Ghost is, acting in us, and Christ is acting for us. “I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you forever (John 14:16.) “Wherefore he (Jesus) is able also to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by him, seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for them;’ Heb. 7:25.

This double action can never be interrupted for a single moment. The very weakest believer is maintained before God in the divine power of this double intercession—the intercession of the Spirit in him—the intercession of Christ for him. What comfort for the heart in this! What ample provision “for the exigence of every hour!” It frequently happens that the Christian finds himself afflicted, in his seasons of retirement, with excessive barrenness and wandering. He tries to pray, but cannot. He finds it impossible to throw his desires into an intelligible form. He groans, and that groan is the fruit of the Spirit’s mighty operation; it ascends, as such, to the throne of God, and is presented there by that blessed Advocate who ever liveth to make intercession for us. Nothing goes up save that which is of the Spirit. The unutterable groan is produced in us by God the Spirit; it passes up through the priestly hands of God the Son; and is thus presented to God the Father.

The Lord Jesus knows how to separate the precious from the vile, in all our actings and exercises. He casts the vile away and presents the precious to God, in our behalf. We have an illustration of this at the close of the first chapter of the book of Leviticus. There we see the offerer bringing an offering of fowls unto the priest. “And the priest shall bring it unto the altar, and wring off his head, and burn it on the altar, and the blood thereof shall be wrung out at the side of the altar; and he shall pluck away his crop with his feathers, and cast it beside the altar on the east part, by the place of the ashes; and he shall cleave it with the wings thereof, but shall not divide it asunder; and the priest shall burn it upon the altar, upon the wood that is upon the fire; it is a burnt sacrifice, an offering made by fire, of a sweet savor unto the Lord.” (v. 15-17.) The priest’s eye discerned, at once, what parts of the offering were fit for God’s altar, and what for “the place of the ashes.” This was his business. The offerer brought the sacrifice to the priest, and the priest prepared it for the altar. He separated the precious from the vile. The priestly eye and the priestly knife were needful ere the sacrifice was in a fit condition to be presented upon the altar of the God of Israel.

All this is full of meaning—full of instruction—full of comfort for the Christian. In our very best services, and costliest sacrifices, there is abundance answering to “the crop and feathers” of the Levitical ceremonial; but, blessed be God, we have “a great high priest” in whose hand we can place all our offerings, in the fullest assurance that He knows what to do with those offerings, and that when they have passed under His priestly eye, and under the action of His priestly hand, they shall ascend to the throne of God in all the fragrance of His most excellent name. This is eminently calculated to impart confidence to our hearts while we seek, notwithstanding our felt weakness, to respond to the exhortation of the apostle, “By him therefore let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually, that is, the fruit of our lips, giving thanks to his name. But to do good and to communicate, forget not; for with such sacrifices God is well pleased.” (Heb. 13:15, 16.) We Need not be afraid to bring the very smallest offering. “We may not be able to present “a bullock” or “a lamb;” our measure may be only that of “a turtle dove,” or “a young pigeon.” It matters not. If only the Holy Ghost originates the sacrifice, then Christ will assuredly present it, and God will be “well pleased.”

Faith and Forgiveness

Notes of a short address to the anxious ones at a prayer-meeting.

Let me direct your attention, dear friends, to a verse of scripture, which, the Lord grant, may prove a blessing to many souls. You will find it in the 10th chapter of Acts, at the 43rd verse: “To him give all the prophets witness, that through his name whosoever believeth in him shall receive remission of sins.”

About a fortnight or three weeks ago, at the close of one of our prayer-meetings in London, I observed two young women, seated by themselves in a corner of the room, apparently not inclined to move, although the others were all going away. I had seen them before. They were troubled about their souls. They had not peace. I was glad to see them remain, and, desiring to have a quiet word about their state of mind with myself, I asked them if they were still in trouble. They said they were. I then said to them, “How long have you been in trouble about your souls?”

“Five or six weeks,” they replied.

“Now tell me, are you really in earnest about your soul’s salvation?”

“O, yes!”

There was no question about that. It was the one thing their hearts were seeking after. “Well, tell, me do you really, as lost sinners, believe that the Lord Jesus Christ died for you as such?”

“O, yes.” They at once acknowledged, that they believed that Jesus Christ died for them.

Bringing them to the passage which I have read, I asked them if they believed that Christ finished the work He came to do on behalf of lost sinners, and for the glory of God. They had no doubt on that point. Christ, raised up from the dead, proves the completeness of His work. “Now, put your finger on that verse,” I said. “Have you got your finger on it?” Their eyes were gazing on the text. “What does it say? “Whosoever believeth on him shall receive—receive what? the promise of forgiveness at some future time? No, but whosoever believeth shall receive remission of sins.’ Does God speak the truth or not? What then does He say? You confess that you believe that Jesus died and rose again. Well, then, what does Peter say in this verse? ‘Whosoever believeth’—but believeth what? — ‘that Jesus died and rose again,’ having finished the work needed for me, a sinner, God raised Him up. If I believe that, what do I receive? Not merely heaven at last, but present forgiveness. I receive a present forgiveness. I may not know it—I may not believe it—I may not enjoy it. Nevertheless, God is true: whosoever believeth shall receive —God says it—mark the word receive.”

Now, observe, let me speak to souls who may be in a condition similar to that of those two young persons. Can you say it is true, or is it false? You say it is true. Well, but what is true? That we have received remission of sins. Glory be to God, that is faith in the word of the living God Now, tell me, are you looking to your own feelings, or to the word of God? The eyes of these young women were turned away from themselves, and fixed on the sure word of God. One of them said to me, “I can see it clearly now.” The other said, “If I could hear God saying it, I would believe.” “O, come now,” I said; “is not the written word more certain, if possible, than the spoken word? You might say, at some future day, I thought I heard it, but perhaps I was mistaken. O, would you not prefer the written word? You can go back to it again and again.” “I think I would,” she said.

There is the victory, dear friends, to receive the truth without hesitation. But, again, let me ask, what is the truth, dear friends, on this important point? That, through faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, we receive—what? The remission of all our sins. When? The same moment we believe. O, beloved friends, if God be true, follow their simple example. For six weeks these girls were going from one meeting to another, running hither and thither, trying to find peace, and could not; hut the moment their eye was directed to Christ, and His finished work—the moment their souls received God’s word as true, they knew that they had received remission of sins. Receiving the testimony of God about Jesus, and receiving the remission of our sins, are inseparably connected together in Scripture, and why should we seek to separate them, to our own trouble and distress of mind?

And now, beloved friends, those of you, who this night have your eye and your heart turned to Christ, tell me, is it true that Christ died for us sinners? If I be a sinner, has He died for me? Yes! blessed be His name! Oh, I would not give up this descriptive name, sinner, for ten thousand worlds. I am a sinner, God says it; but what does that entitle me to? To the full benefit of the finished work of Christ. Oh, the boundless grace which flows from the heart of God through that channel into my soul—into every soul that believes. “God commendeth his love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” As a sinner, then, I believe this. It is true, is it not? Who questions its reality? Did not Jesus die on the cross for sinners? The word of God plainly states it; but it also states, that He who died for sinners rose again for their justification; and also, that whosoever believeth on him, shall receive remission of sins.” Oh, then, as lost, ruined, hell-deserving sinners, believe God’s testimony about Jesus, His finished work, and His precious grace to you, in the full remission of all your sins, and be happy in His great salvation.

I now said to those two young sisters, “Have you not, think you, some weeks ago received the very thing that you were seeking after?” They now saw that then they had received forgiveness, but from not knowing it, and believing it, they had no peace nor rest to their souls. Now they had peace through the knowledge of forgiveness. Do you now see, and can you now say, beloved friends, that Jesus died for you? Do you believe that He died and rose again, that you might be pardoned and justified before God? May the Lord lead you now in your heart to look to Him, believing this precious truth. The first look of faith brings you the full, perfect, and everlasting forgiveness of all your sins. What God hath thus joined together, as to faith and forgiveness, let no man put asunder. May God enable you to believe—to believe this night in Him who died and rose again. His precious blood alone cleanseth from all sin, and eternal life can only be received from the risen, living Christ in glory. May you now receive the truth about Him without doubting, and give to God all the glory.

Deep Thoughts

The following lines from the pen of Gambold, a Moravian Pastor, may not be generally known. They contain such a fund of precious truth, and so much deep experience, that we are anxious to assign them a permanent place in the pages of “Things New and Old.”

That “I am thine, my Lord and God,

Sprinkled and ransomed by thy blood”—

Repeat that word once more,

With such an energy and light,

That this world’s flattery nor spite

To shake me never may have power.

From various cares my heart retires;

Though deep and boundless its desires,

I’m now to please but One:

He, before whom the elders bow,

With Him is all my business now,

And with the souls that are His own.

This is my joy that ne’er can fail

To see my Saviour’s arm prevail,

To mark the steps of grace:

Now new-born souls, convinced of sin,

His blood revealed to them within,

Extol the Lamb in every place.

With these my happy lot is cast!

Through the world’s deserts rude and waste,

Or through its gardens fair;

Whether the storms of trouble sweep”

Or all in dead supineness sleep,

Still to go on be my whole care.

See! the dear sheep, by Jesus drawn,

In blest simplicity move on;

They trust His Shepherd’s crook.

Beholders many faults may find,

But they can guess at Jesus’ mind

Content, if written in His book.

Ο all ye wise, ye rich, ye just,

Who the blood’s doctrine have discussed,

And judge it weak and slight:

Grant that I may (the rest’s your own)

In shame and poverty sit down,

At this one well-spring of delight.

Indeed, if Jesus ne’er was slain,

Or aught can make His ransom vain,

That now it heals no more:

If His heart’s tenderness is fled,

If of a Church He is not Head,

Nor Lord of all as heretofore;

Then (so refers my state to Him)

Unwarranted I must esteem,

And wretched all I do.

Ah! my heart throbs and seizes fast

The covenant that will ever last;

It knows, it knows these things are true.

No, my dear Lord, in following thee,

And not in dark uncertainty,

This foot obedient moves:

‘Tis with a Brother, and a King,

Who many to His yoke will bring,

Whoever lives, and ever loves.

Now, then, my Way, my Truth, my Life,

Henceforth let sorrow, doubt, and strife,

Drop off like autumn leaves:

Henceforth, as privileged by Thee,

Simple and undistracted be

My soul, which to thy scepter cleaves.

Let me my weary mind recline

On that eternal love of thine,

And human thoughts forget:

Childlike attend what thou wilt say;

Go forth and do it while ‘tis day,

Yet never leave my sweet retreat.

At all times to my spirit bears

An inward witness, soft and clear,

Of thy redeeming power;

This will instruct thy child, and fit,

Will sparkle forth whate’er is meet,

For exigence of every hour.

Thus all the sequel is well weighed;

I cast myself upon thine aid,

A sea where none can sink:

Yea, in that sphere I stand, poor worm,

Where thou wilt for thy name perform

Above whate’er I ask or think.

“But the end of all things is at hand; be ye therefore sober, and watch unto prayer.” 1 Pet. 4:7.

Things New and Old: Volume 3

Things New and Old [Paperback]

Table of Contents

Self-Judgment

A Present Salvation

Jehovah's Tender Care

The Divine Anathema

I Looked, And, Lo, a Lamb

Philemon

The Lamp and the Ticket

The Two Appearings

He From Within

Inside the Veil! Outside the Camp!

Provision for Perilous Times

The Midnight Cry

The Morning Cry

Christ and His Yoke

The Young Convert's First Mission

The Compass

Jesus Here

The Grapes of Eshcol

Self-Control

Signs of a Revival

A Note of Joy

Saul of Tarsus

The Observatory

That Beautiful Eye

That Beautiful Tree

God's Provision for Man's Need: A Sacrifice, a Priest and a Place of Worship

The New Creation: Part 1

Christ and the Door

Jerusalem and Cyprus

A Profitable Mixture

Perfect Peace

Self-Emptiness

The Work of God Amongst Children

O Death! Where Is Thy Sting?

The New Creation: Part 2

The Work of God in Ireland

One Thing Is Needful

Sanctification: What Is It? Part 1

"Even So; Come, Lord Jesus"

Things That Differ

How Are the Converts of Last Year Standing?

An Evening at Tullyreagh

On My Own Conversion

Sanctification: What Is It? Part 2

The Work of God in Scotland

Jesus Is Mine

A Wise and Safe Thing to Do

Bright Thoughts

What Is a Castaway?

Self-Denial

The Double Intercession

Faith and Forgiveness

Deep Thoughts