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 BX 7233 .M25 C3 
 
 McKenzie, Alexander, 1830 
 
 1914. 
 Cambridge sermons 
 
CAMBRIDGE SERMONS 
 
 BY 
 
 ALEXANDER "'McKENZIE 
 
 BOSTON 
 D. LOTHROP AND COMPANY 
 
 32 FRANKLIN STREET 
 
COPYKIGHT, 1883. 
 D. LOTHBOP AND COMrAXf. 
 
These sermons are, for tlie most part, printed from 
 reports made by Mr. H. W. Gleason. 
 
CONTENTS. ''^^^,<^- 
 
 I.- 
 
 — The one Life .... 
 
 7 
 
 II. 
 
 — Who loved Me ... 
 
 31 
 
 • III.- 
 
 — Choose whom ye will serve 
 
 49 
 
 ly.- 
 
 — Looking toward the Sea 
 
 70 
 
 V.- 
 
 — The good Merchant 
 
 83 
 
 >VI.- 
 
 — Wliy stand ye gazing 
 
 102 
 
 YIL- 
 
 — Not by might, but by Spirit . 
 
 122 
 
 ^VIIL- 
 
 — Grieving the Holy Spirit 
 
 142 
 
 ^ IX.- 
 
 — Turning Northward 
 
 162 
 
 X.- 
 
 — What must I do 
 
 183 
 
 XI.- 
 
 — The Love of God maniiL'sted . 
 
 . am 
 
 -. XII.- 
 
 -We shall be like Him 
 
 222 
 
 > XIII.- 
 
 — The unchanging Christ 
 
 240 
 
 XIV.- 
 
 — The wayside Seed . . . . 
 
 263 
 
 XV.- 
 
 — Truth commending Itself 
 
 283 
 
 XVL- 
 
 -The Power of an endless Life 
 
 303 
 
CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 Scripture Lesson 
 
 Text : And I, even I only, am left ; and they seek my life, to 
 take it away. — I Kings, xix : lo. 
 
 I EVEN I only, am left." What a chance he 
 had, the only man in Israel who loved God, 
 and whom God approved ! What a communion 
 must have been given him as the Spirit of God 
 dwelt with him ! What an opportunit}^ for use- 
 fulness ! He was not bearing to the people a 
 common thing ; he was not standing as a wit- 
 ness to that which everybody knew, and offer- 
 ing to men that which others could give to 
 them ; he was the only man who could make 
 the people see God ; who was authorized to speak 
 for him; to whom men might point ^ and say, 
 " Behold the servant of God." Our influence 
 is so much curtailed, and our opportunities to 
 bless the world, because there are so many 
 others who have the same kind of goods to sell, 
 the same kind of spirit to illustrate, the same 
 sort of influence to exert, that when one finds 
 himself standing alone, holding a great treasure, 
 
 7 
 
8 CAMBBIDGE SERMONS, 
 
 or repveseDting some great truth, it is then that 
 his opportunity has come. It sometimes hap- 
 pens that there is one only of a family who 
 loves Christ. What an opportunity is his ! There 
 may be only one in a circle of friends who serves 
 God ; there may be only one in a class, one among 
 the clerks in a store, one in a firm of merchants, 
 one in any of the associations of life. Almost 
 everybody we know may be a stranger to God. 
 What a divine opportunity, to be promptly and 
 heartily improved ! It was a misconception on 
 this man's part, that he was alone in his fidel- 
 ity ; yet the influence of seven thousand who 
 had not bowed the knee to Baal, and whose 
 lips had not kissed him, went for very little 
 so long as they chose to be concealed. No one 
 wishes to deny the value of secret piety ; but 
 no man ever read in his New Testament that 
 secret piety was enough. It is not more plainly 
 required of us that we believe on the Lord 
 Jesus Christ, than that we let the world know 
 that we believe on him. The word of the Gos- 
 pel which we have read this morning, which 
 bids whosoever will to come to him, with equal 
 emphasis bids whosoever comes to repeat the 
 word, that it may pass from man to man, and 
 land to land, until, all through the earth, the 
 other sheep which are not of this fold are brought 
 into the one flock under the one shepherd. 
 
 Nobly had this man Elijah used his oppor- 
 
TUB ONE LIFE. 9 
 
 tiiiiity. When he was called uj^on to stand 
 alone, he stood alone. " I, I only remain a 
 prophet of the Lord ; but Baal's prophets are 
 four hundred and fifty men." He matched 
 himself against them all ; he denied nothing ; 
 he concealed nothing; he withheld nothing. 
 He stood out in that simple personality, one 
 man here and four hundred and fifty there ; 
 one man with God and the hundreds with Baal ; 
 and this one man wdth God outnumbered and 
 subdued them all. Then there came that reac- 
 tion which comes so often; a reaction which 
 is needed. It is scarcely possible that with such 
 success and such wonderful achievements as 
 marked the life of Elijah, he should be able 
 to bear this pressure and to live in this exalted 
 state. It was almost inevitable that, when 
 the excitement was withdrawn, when no longer 
 there were hundreds of men to resist him, and 
 he stood alone, the conqueror — it was almost 
 inevitable that his heart should fail him. It was 
 necessary that he should have this recalling to 
 himself. God gives it to us ; he gave it to 
 Elijah; he gave it to St. Paul afterwards. Lest 
 he should be exalted out of measure by the 
 abundance of the revelation, lest he should be 
 exalted in his own thoughts and be separated 
 from his work, God gave to St. Paul a thorn 
 in the flesh. He gave to Elijah that woman 
 Jezebel to bring him to humility, that he might 
 
10 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 feel it was God alone wlio was great, even 
 tlioiigli he was the prophet of God. There was 
 a fallmg back into dismay and disappointment ; 
 there was a halting, becanse of the fear which 
 oppressed his soul. Then there came those 
 grand lessons. One brought him down from 
 the comfort of the proud seclusion in which 
 he lived. He w\as reminded that there were 
 seven thousand v/ho were like himself; seven 
 thousand faithful hearts. It was not altogether 
 a pleasant thought for a man who Avas boast- 
 ing himself in his peculiar goodness. As if 
 that was not enough, he was reminded that it 
 was not very essential that he should live ; for 
 there was a farmer's boy following the oxen 
 along the plains of Abel-meholah, who would 
 be ready to stand in his place and take up his 
 work ; so that for the world it mattered very 
 little whether Elijah lived or not. How much 
 there was to make this man find his place ; 
 not to take away anything which he had wrought 
 or anything from his willingness to do, but to 
 bring him to the level of other men, until he 
 found in his own heart that which the Scrip- 
 ture has been frank enough to write concern- 
 ing him, that " Elijah was a man subject to like 
 passions as we are," so that he needed the same 
 discipline that he might keep the faith. But 
 Elijah lived, went to Beersheba, left his ser- 
 vant behind him, plunged into the wilderness 
 
THE ONE LIFE. H 
 
 and there laid him down in his despair and 
 prayed that he might die. Then there came 
 that which God so often gives, and which works 
 so wonderfully for our relief, a good night's 
 sleep. It is marvellous how the still, dark hours 
 of the night will clear one's thoughts and bring 
 him to his place ; how often the dejection of 
 evening is banished when the sun rises ; how 
 many mysteries and uncertainties have flown 
 when the day comes back again. Elijah lay 
 down to sleep and found that truth which is 
 written in the Psalm, that God giveth to his 
 beloved while they sleep. He gave to this man, 
 for Elijah was his beloved. As he slept the angel 
 touched him and spoke to him, and when he 
 was aAvake he fed him. Twice he touched him, 
 twice he roused him, and gave him bread and 
 drink, and the man went forty days and nights 
 on the strength of this ministry of mercy and 
 of bread. We find no more the wish that he 
 might die, no more the desire to be rid of the 
 world, no more of the terrible despondency which 
 made his earthly future full of terror. He went 
 his way to the place where a greater than he 
 had been commissioned, where Moses had found 
 God, where God had found Moses. In the shad- 
 ows and among the very cliffs of Horeb did this 
 man w^ait until he should hear God ; and he 
 heard God. Men always hear God when they 
 listen. He heard God, not in the wind which 
 
12 CAMBIUBGE SEBMONS. 
 
 broke the rocks in pieces, not in the earth- 
 quake which shook the mountains to their base, 
 not in the fire which blazed from cliff to cliff 
 and lighted up the deep gorges ; not in these. 
 There had been enough of tumult, enough of 
 storm and tempest. They had exhausted their 
 power on this man's heart. God came closer 
 to him, and when he had made quietness he 
 spoke to him in a still small voice which Elijah 
 heard. Now what is Elijah's complaint? "I 
 only am left, and they seek my life to take it 
 away." What is the remedy ? God did that 
 which another had purposed to do ; he took 
 the man's life away ; not the breath out of his 
 body, but his life. He took Elijah's life up 
 into his own hands, and Elijah consented to 
 have it taken up into the hands of God. I pray 
 that it may be marked, because it is a lesson 
 in which we need very much to be instructed, 
 that God came to this despondent man, not with 
 words of mere comfort, not with that worn and 
 unsatisfying solace which we so often speak, not 
 weeping with him, not weeping over him ; but 
 with that comfort wherewith men are comforted 
 of God. He came to him with something to do. 
 What did he say to this man who felt that his 
 life Avas in peril, that he only was left and that 
 men were about to take away his life? He did 
 not point him to the glory which shall be forever ; 
 he did not say, " Well, Elijah, everybody must 
 
THE ONE LIFE. 13 
 
 die, and it matters very little wlietlier it is to-day 
 or to-moiTO\y, whether it is in this way or in 
 that." He did not say, " You have rendered a 
 very good service ; you have outlived your use- 
 fulness." He said nothing like tliat. O, men, 
 tiiere is something here, in the way in which God 
 came to Elijah, that is full of comfort and wis- 
 dom for you and me. For I notice this : That 
 wlien God comforts a man, it is very often by 
 giving him work. He does not content himself 
 with soothing and quieting men as if they had no 
 strength and were simply like crying children 
 needing to be fondled and indulged. God re- 
 spects the manhood of a man. What does he 
 say to Elijah's complaint — '^ I, even I only am 
 left, and they seek my life to take it away ? " 
 " Go, return on thy way to the wilderness of 
 Damascus j and when thou comest, anoint Hazael 
 to be king over Syria ; and Jehu the son of Nim- 
 shi shalt thou anoint to be king over Israel ; and 
 Elisha the son of Sliaphat of Abel-meholali shalt 
 thou anohit to be prophet in thy room." That 
 was God's comfort, sometliing to do. When a 
 man is busy for God he has comfort. Our de- 
 spondent hours are the hours when we are not at 
 work, or not at work for God. With a man's 
 hands pouring oil upon Hazael and Jehu, and 
 dropping the mantle upon Elisha, there is very 
 little time to think about Jezebel. The calmness 
 of God comes to the obedient child of God. 
 
14 CAMBEIDGE SEBMONS, 
 
 Then God took his life. Ifc is very singular 
 that this man, who had such a great fear that his 
 life was to be taken away, that he was to die a 
 death of violence, did not die a death of violence ; 
 did not die any death, not even on his bed. 
 There came a chariot of fire and horses of fire 
 when they were ready, and the prophet went up 
 into the glory of God. The Lord had sought his 
 life and had taken it away. How grand the con- 
 trast is I Let nine hundred years pass by. He 
 was in the wilderness, this prophet strong and 
 severe, clothed in his garment of camel's hair, 
 feeding upon locusts and wild honey, the prophet 
 of a rugged time committing his way unto God. 
 Next you see him at Hermon, far in the north. 
 This lonely man, who has found Moses somewhere 
 beyond the clouds, comes down with Moses to the 
 transfiguration of the Lord, no longer stern in 
 spirit, or clad in coarse apparel. These two 
 prophets of the ancient time appeared in glory 
 and talked with the Lord " of his decease which 
 he should accomplish at Jerusalem." Let us mark 
 that the turning point of Elijah's life was not 
 when he conquered the four hundred and fifty 
 prophets of Baal, nor when he ascended in a 
 chariot of fire into heaven ; the turning point of 
 this man's life was when, among the peaks of 
 Horeb, he heard the voice of God and obeyed it, 
 and putting his fears into the cave, went down to 
 anoint Hazael to be king over S3^ria, and Elisha 
 
TUE ONE LIFE. 15 
 
 to be prophet in Iiis room. It is not strange 
 that ever afterwards the people were expecting 
 Elijah to come back. You find it running all 
 through their history. When Jesus came, it was 
 Elijah, some said. Some declared that John the 
 Baptist was indeed Elijah. The prophet so 
 stamped himself upon the minds and hearts of 
 the people that they looked for his return. If he 
 ever had come — and he did in his time — it 
 would have been because in the rock he heard 
 the voice of God and did what God told him to do. 
 
 I have brought this to your notice this 
 morning, not that I may speak upon this 
 illustrious man, but because there arc certain 
 points here which, so far from being exceptional, 
 are a common heritage for us. I wish to take 
 one or two things out of this man's life, that 
 we may see how our lives are to gather the 
 inspiration for which this word is written. 
 
 These two things are to be noticed, and' 
 they are the points about which all I shall 
 say will arrange itself; first, that this man 
 had a life, just one life, and he had it all to 
 himself there in the mountain. There were 
 seven thousand other men who had seven 
 thousand other lives, but lie had this life and 
 it was all his own ; it was all the life he had. 
 It Avas worth a great deal to him. lie justly 
 thought that it was wortli a great deal to 
 the world, to God ; and he wanted to keep tli:it 
 
16 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 life and make the most of it. Then the other 
 thought immediately connected with this is, that 
 he kept this life and made the most of it by 
 finding God and linking his life with God's life ; 
 his plan with God's plan. If there are any two 
 truths in the whole circle of truth which may 
 be called universal, I think they are these : that 
 every man has one life, and that every man 
 shall make the most of that life by joining it 
 with God's life and God's thought. 
 
 This is true of every one of us, that every 
 man has his life, one life, and that life is fast 
 slipping away from his grasp. How rapidly it 
 is passing, year after year, and day after day ! 
 How little time it takes to make the hair 
 white and the step feeble ! How soon it comes, 
 and our friends begin to say that we are get- 
 ting old, and a little after we feel it ourselves, 
 and by and by we give up one thing and 
 another, and see that life is passing gradually 
 away, until at last they carry us out and round 
 the sods over us. Another thing is true. We 
 have but this one life and this life is fast escaping; 
 but we are to remember that this life is the mak- 
 ing of th^ endless years beyond. I have said 
 here a great many times, that there is but one 
 life, and that time and eternity are one. But I 
 wish this morning to take up our common method 
 of speech. Let us speak as if life came to a 
 great change in that which we call death. 
 
THE ONE LIFE. 17 
 
 This life, or the part of our life this side of 
 death, reaehes forward into that wliicli is to come. 
 We might expect this. It is after the analogy of 
 nature. Life ever}^ where is after this plan. In 
 the field there is the seed time, and after that 
 the harvest. Following that analogy which the 
 Scripture takes up and illustrates and enforces, 
 this life is the seedi time and after it comes the 
 harvest ; so that clearly this life finds its great 
 value as it reaches on into the years which 
 are before us. The Scripture teaches us in many 
 places, that for the deeds we are doing here in 
 the body we shall give account when we stand at 
 the judgment seat of Christ. There is one other 
 thing at this point : that life is not merely a sys- 
 tem of existence, a series of days and nights 
 flowing the one into the other, but that it comes 
 to us with a certain menfiiing, a character of its 
 own. One word must be taken as the expres- 
 sion of this meaning. The true character of life 
 is well summed up in the word duty : it is that 
 which we express by our word ought — what 
 men ouo-ht to do. Dutv is the meaninor of 
 life. The reason you live is that 3'ou have 
 duty. Do your duty and you are following 
 the law of your life ; neglect your duty and 
 you are wasting your life. So that a man finds 
 this which joins him to himself, and to In's 
 fellow-men, so far as his dut}- touches them, and 
 
18 ' CAMBRIDGE SER3I0NS. 
 
 by this word duty, or ouglit, joins himself to 
 God from whom the duty has come. 
 
 I am bringing you not a lesson of death, but 
 a lesson of life. I want to have the great les- 
 son not something v/hich shall make us afraid 
 of the end, but that which shall make us calm 
 in view of the end, as we look upon any great 
 work which is required of us and are not 
 afraid of it because we know that we are equal 
 to it. We should take up life in this hearty way, 
 and think of it as somethino^ which we are wise 
 enough to receive and manly enough to use even 
 to its great fulfilmemt. 
 
 This word of the prophet at Horeb describes 
 in its two parts the position of every one of 
 us. We ma}^ see where he is, and what he feels. 
 He is alone in the mountain, he and his life 
 together, and he feels tliis : " I am the only 
 one to take care of my life. I have no 
 brother to care for it. I have no servant 
 here to defend it. There is no prophet, there 
 is nobody in all Israel, who feels as I do, or 
 cares whether I live or not. I stand alone, 
 keeping my life. That is, in some measure, 
 the position of every one of us. We are alone. 
 We have our kindred, we have our neighbors 
 and our friends ; but every one stands by him- 
 self, he and his life together. Every one besides, 
 of the hundreds now in this house, might die 
 
THE ONE LIFE. 19 
 
 before noon, and you live, my friend. They all 
 miglit be happy and you sad ; they all might 
 be sad and you happy ; they all might be riglit 
 and you wrong; they all might be wrong and 
 you right; God might approve every one of them 
 and not you. God might be pleased with you 
 and with no one besides. Thus separate does a 
 man stand, with his own body, with his own breath, 
 with his own duty, with his own need, with his 
 own record on high and the destiny which follows 
 the opening of the book. This is a commonplace 
 truth, yet it may serve us well. Once for all 
 we have a chance to live. The eternal j^ears 
 are committed to us, with one opportunity, ex- 
 tended by God's grace, to see if we will do 
 God's will ; and if that gracious opportunity 
 is lost, there is no return. The cold waves 
 rush in upon the gray rocks, and break against 
 them, whoever lives, whoever dies, — 
 
 But the tender grace of a day that is dead 
 Will never come back to me. 
 
 Then there is the other point. '* They seek 
 
 my life to take it away." One woman mad 
 
 and revengeful, sought the prophet's life. 
 
 How easy it was to flee from her to Horeb ! 
 
 But a thousand seek our life ; there is no 
 
 Horeb where we may shield ourselves. There 
 
 is no wilderness into which we* may plunge 
 
 and escape from — not Jezebel from whom we 
 
 could hide, but that which wc call death. It 
 
20 CAMBRIDGE SEllMONS. 
 
 follows us everywhere ; there is no escape for 
 "US ; the law of nature is pronounced ; the 
 forces of the world are working against us ; 
 our powers are becoming enfeebled ; steadily 
 we are growing old ; with steady step we are 
 approaching that last hour. The powers of nature 
 and the ordinance of God are seeking our life 
 to take it away. Brethren, there is no help 
 for us. The archers are ready, the bows are 
 drawn, the shaft is pointed ; it is certain that 
 they who are seeking our life will presently 
 take it away. I ask thai these things may 
 be accepted not as terrors, but as simple veri- 
 ties upon which we are to fashion our lives. 
 What shall we do, then ? 
 
 Some have said " If this be so, let us eat 
 and drink, for to-morrow we die." Others 
 throw tl:iemselves upon despair and say, " What 
 is the use of living ? " One often brings up that 
 satire in theory, though seldom in practice, 
 " What is the use of my saving money ? I 
 cannot carry it with me into another world. 
 I must die penniless, like the beggar. What is the 
 use of my trying to get any position ? I have no 
 sooner gained it than I am dead. What is 
 the use of my trying to enjoy life? What matters 
 it? Presently it will all be over, and I shall 
 go away with my empty hands. More than I 
 have gained I must leave. You tell me that I 
 ought to be industrious and prudent and saving : 
 
THE ONE LIFE. 21 
 
 will you tell me what is the use of my heap- 
 ing up treasure knowing not who shall gather 
 it, or trying to be anything, or clo anything 
 in the world which to-morrow may forget that 
 I ever lived? 
 
 The sadilest grave 
 
 That ever tears kept green must sink at last 
 Unto the common level of the world ; 
 Then o'er it runs a road. 
 
 What is the use?" I think there is much to be 
 said on the side of the old preacher who had been 
 a common man and a king, and had touched life 
 on every side, and who wrote, " Vanity of vani- 
 ties, all is vanity." 
 
 But the Scripture comes to us with quite 
 a different lesson from that, and it speaks to 
 us after this wise : " You are to-morrow to 
 die ; be very careful, therefore, what you eat 
 and drink. You are to-morrow to go out of 
 the world : be very careful, therefore, what 
 you do while you are in the world. To-mor- 
 row you are to give account of that which you 
 are doing here : therefore be very careful, and 
 as this is the only life, the only opportu- 
 nity, guard its moments well. Treasure them; 
 let not life run to waste ; let not any part of 
 life run to waste. It is all the life you have ; 
 it is hurrying away ; guard it ; watch it day 
 and night ; watch it at every point, for it is 
 your onl}^ life, and the}' are seeking to take 
 
22 CAMBBIDGE SEBMONS. 
 
 it away." It is in view of these truths that the 
 grandeur of life comes in. You will notice 
 this ; that a great man's life is great in some 
 emergency, at some special point, or in the 
 presence of a great work. A man who simply 
 goes on his way and does easy things passably 
 well, and is reasonably content, is not One who 
 really masters the world. There comes to every 
 one of us in our different places, and in different 
 degrees according to our strength, some times 
 when we must concentrate all we have upon 
 one issue. And it is in this solitary oppor- 
 tunity that the force of our life comes out, and 
 we put our manhood to the proof, and settle 
 it with ourselves whether we are able and 
 willing to live. 
 
 It is in this way that it comes to us now; if 
 you feel that you have here many years, and that 
 at any time you can recover the past, and gather 
 up your life and make up for lost time, jou 
 will never do very much. The meaning of all 
 this is, that you are standing at a critical point. 
 This may be the turning point of the battle. Lose 
 Waterloo, and it is St. Helena. Fail in this enter- 
 prise, and it is bankruptcy. Be broken down in 
 this work, and it is defeat. Let this one life fail, 
 and it is all over, it is all gone. There is no 
 second chance. Life will never come back. You 
 stand alone with your life. That supreme moment 
 comes when you must determine whether you 
 
TUE ONE LIFE. 23 
 
 cau face the one occasion, and in one life win 
 eternity. It calls for all your reason, and all 
 your conscience, and all 3'Our strength. If a man 
 is a man, he gains the day as Elijah did. If he 
 is careless and weak, he drifts though life until 
 he drifts to the judgment of the ages that are 
 to come. 
 
 We are inconsistent. Our views of life do 
 not accord with our practices in life. Thus 
 Ave say very truly that the most valuable 
 thing we have is our life. "Millions of money 
 for an inch of time," — it w^as not one woman 
 only who said that ; ten thousand men and women 
 have said it. Part with everything rather than 
 die — of course everything but honor. It was 
 a remark of one who knew men well, because 
 he had searched them out in malice and cunnino- 
 who had gone up and down the earth with 
 his shrewd, envious ca'cs, when he brought his 
 testimony and laid it before God — '' All that a 
 man hath will he give for his life." And our 
 Lord Jesus Christ, when he wished to express the 
 greatest thing which a man would do, said: 
 " Greater love hath no man than this : that a 
 man lay down his life." That is tlie value of 
 life ; and wlien Jesus wanted to speak of that 
 great gift of his own, he could find no better 
 Avord than that, and said: ''I give unto them 
 eternal life." We value life because we enjoy 
 it, and are in the habit of esteeming it highly, 
 
24 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 and hope for future good, and because there is a 
 dread of the unknown. It is a part of our 
 character that there should be this shrinking from 
 the thought of change. A good old man once 
 said to me, "I am not afraid of being dead, 
 but I am afraid of d3^ing." So it comes about 
 in many waj^s that we think, and think truly, 
 that nothing which we have is so valuable as 
 life. Now see the inconsistenc}^ What do 
 we do with life? This best thing very many 
 utterly waste. They never think upon its value, 
 or upon its meaning, or upon what they are to 
 do with it. They simply let the whole of it 
 run away : it goes to waste. Still more marked 
 is the wasting of parts of it. To think of wasting 
 one of these invaluable days, one hour of the few 
 and fleeting hours of life, when we have not 
 fortune enough in all our house to buy back 
 a single moment! We let the moments go as 
 if we had them in plenty, or could get all w^e 
 want in the market-place. We part the most 
 easily with that which we value most, and 
 which never can be recovered. 
 
 It was a most expressive illustration of the 
 matchless English preacher, that men suffer life 
 to slip through their hands as water slij)S through 
 a marble fountain. He drew a picture of the 
 marble image you have so often seen at the 
 fountain, standing " steadfast, serene, immova- 
 ble," with the water flowing through its lips. 
 
THE ONE LIFE. . 25 
 
 It flows and flows, and the marble never thinks 
 that it is flowing, never seeks to check it, never 
 seeks to govern it. It flows on, and the marble 
 hands never can take it back. So, he saj^s — 
 and how trul}', how forcibly — we stand and let 
 oar time slip away. An hour and an hour, a 
 day and a day, a year, and ten years, and 
 twenty years, and fifty j^ears, and sevent}^ 3"ears, 
 slip through the marble image Avhich is a marble 
 image still. Is not that true ? Where is your 
 yesterday? Did you clutch every moment as 
 it came ? Did you hold it as it sought to 
 get away from you, making sure you had the 
 whole of it, and that it was serving you well ? 
 AVhat has become of your years ? Have they gone 
 as the water through the marble lips ? Let me 
 change the illustration, and say that life should 
 come to LIS and pass from us as life comes to 
 the growing grain which, springing from the seed, 
 reaches up and takes every moment, takes every 
 breath of air, all the sunshine and rain, all the 
 dewdrops, covetous, eager, watching all the day 
 and sleeping never at night, putting out its 
 hands everywhere, that it may draw in out of 
 time all the merit of time that the husband- 
 man may reap the golden grain Avhich shall 
 reward his pains. Life comes to us somewhat 
 in that wa}-, to be taken up into our thoughts, 
 made a part of ourselves, and put to those high 
 uses wherein it may serve us forever. 
 
26 CAMBRIDGE SEBMOMS. 
 
 What shall I say, then? Allow me to say 
 these things ! AVhat shall I do in life, seeing 
 that I have but one life, and they are seek- 
 ing that to take it away ? I will do these three 
 things : 
 
 First I will find the meaning of life. Life 
 is more than a stream of water, or a stream of 
 moments. Conscience and life belong together. 
 What is my life to-day in its relation to my con- 
 science ? I am here with all my powers. What 
 does life mean as it touches my powers ? I am 
 here among my fellow-men. What does my life 
 mean in its relations to my fellow-men? I am 
 here before God and his judgment. What does 
 life mean in its relation to God and the judgment? 
 I must find what it is, what is in it, what is 
 the intent of it, what is the use to be made of it. 
 I must know the meaning of my years. I may 
 have no opinion about currency, about law, about 
 anything else ; but the one thing which I must 
 know is, what it means to me that I am living 
 to-dayj and that these hours are slipping through 
 my hands. 
 
 Secondly^ I must take life up and put it to 
 those uses wherein it serves me best. There 
 comes that serious moment which finds us all, 
 yet is not improved by us all, when a man makes 
 choice of that which he will do in life ; when 
 he chooses, as we say, his profession. Some men 
 choose their profession ; I believe in many cases 
 
THE ONE LIFE. 27 
 
 the professions choose the men. There are some 
 men Avho are larger than life and greater than 
 the world, who say, "I will not ask the world 
 what it will let me do ; I will ask mj'self, I will 
 ask God, what I am made for, and I will choose 
 my work according to my will and the will of 
 God." It is a serious moment when a man makes 
 up his mind whether his seventy years shall be 
 spent here or abroad, whether in getting or giv- 
 ing ; whetlier in getting a living or in making 
 other people live ; whether they shall be used in 
 the service of self, or shall be spent in the service 
 of God. It becomes a weighty matter, and the 
 Avise man must determine for himself what he 
 shall do with the grand current of his life and 
 with special parts of it. What shall I do to- 
 day? These hours are winged, and are moving 
 forward. These moments of your time which 
 I am now occupying never will return. I feel 
 the responsibility ; perhaps you do. We must 
 make something out of this hour. Do not be 
 marble statues and let this Sunday forenoon run 
 through your hands. Lay hold of it. Take it 
 and use it. And, then, look on with life. We do 
 not make the most of our college life, for instance, 
 if we think that the day of graduation is all there 
 is. We are stud3dng for the future, reaching 
 on, perliaps with definite plans, perhaps with gen- 
 eral plans ; but still with the future in our 
 mind. All our life is to go forward beyond this 
 
2§ CAMBBIBGE SERMONS. 
 
 graduation into the endless j^ears. So Christ 
 teaches us. Lay up your treasure in heaven, 
 he says. " To him that overcometh will I grant 
 to sit with me in my throne." '' In my Father's 
 house are many mansions. I will come again 
 and receive you unto myself." 
 
 There comes finally this other thought, that 
 what we are to do really in this one life of ours 
 is to find God, or let God find us. I wish to 
 say a word to the little children who are here. 
 It is too simple for anybody else to listen to. 
 Will the otliers think of what I have said while 
 I say this word to the children ? That man who 
 knows best what a watch is good for is the man 
 who made it, and the one who knows best what 
 a life is good for is the One who made it. God 
 made your life. God gives you your time, your 
 thought. What you ought to do God knows best. 
 Do you want to know what to think, what to 
 choose, and how to make the most out of j^our 
 years ? Do you want to know what you are 
 made for? Well, ask the Maker. Ask God. He 
 will tell you what he wants you to be, what he 
 meant when he gave you this life, and what 
 he will have you do with it. Oh, God is so good ! 
 He likes to take us by the hand, and say, "My 
 dear boy ; I want you to do this." When God 
 teaches us, then we get very wise, and when God 
 helps us we are strong, and when God keeps us 
 we are safe. 
 
THE ONE LIFE. 29 
 
 I ask, then, all who are not too old to be 
 children, to come to God and find the mean- 
 ing of life, and the strength to live it. You 
 will hear a voice calling you ; it will not be 
 in the wind which moves along the streets, 
 and bears the wisdom of this world ; it will not 
 be in the earthquake, which seems to shake 
 society ; it will not be in the fires which men 
 are kindling on the hill-tops. Tlie voice of God 
 comes to us, still, small, reaching our heart, and 
 then whisperiug steadily, always the same word, 
 "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God; thou shalt 
 do the things which are pleasing in his sight." 
 Over against this oneness of our life stands 
 the oneness of our God ; and over against this 
 singular, solitary responsibility stands the singu- 
 lar grace of God. Our thoughts are not to be 
 divided, our trust is not to be parted. There 
 is only one name under heaven given among 
 men whereby we can be saved. There is only 
 one law for our life, only one duty ; there is 
 only one Saviour. We need not waste a mo- 
 ment choosing between God and Mammon, be- 
 tween Christ and the world, between Christ and 
 ourselves. Life is too hurried, life is too pre- 
 cious for us to have two Redeemers between 
 whom our wandering thoughts must roam. We 
 have one God, one life, one Saviour, one Judge, 
 one eternity. Among these special and singular 
 days do we make up our thoughts and plans; 
 
30 CAMBRIDGE SEBMONS. 
 
 and when we commit our life to God, he takes 
 our purposes into his purposes ; he takes our life 
 into his keeping and guides us by his counsel. 
 I hear this morning the moving of the 
 chariot wheels of God, the chariot of fire and 
 tlie horses of fire. They are coming this way. 
 They stopped in the last week at one of our 
 homes, and a saintly spirit went up into the rest 
 of God. The chariot of fire and the horses of 
 fire, they will stop at the door of the men 
 who love God and have used this one life 
 worthily, and he who is ready shall ascend 
 into the chariot and rise into the city of God 
 which is forever, unto the everlasting youth, 
 into the eternal years ; for God has taken his 
 life that he may give it to him in the glories of 
 immortalitv. 
 
II. 
 
 WHO LOVED ME. 
 
 Scripture Lesson : Romans viii : 14-39. 
 
 Text : Who loved me, and gave himself for me. Galatians, 
 ii : 20. 
 
 THERE was an apostle who delighted to speak 
 of himself as " that disciple whom Jesus 
 loved." It was not that man who wrote the words 
 which have now been read to you. Yet quite as 
 much as his brother did St. Paul exult in the love 
 which Christ had for him. Indeed, these words 
 are a better expression of love than those which 
 are used by the beloved disciple. St. John seems 
 almost to shut out others ; " that disciple," he says, 
 as if there were no others whom Jesus loved. 
 This apostle is broader in his thought. He draws 
 in the love of God to himself; he feels how much 
 more it is to him than it is to the world ; he takes 
 it to himself as if he stood alone ; yet he does not 
 shut out the world from the affection which Christ 
 offers to all for Avliom he gives himself. The 
 words of St. Paul arc broader, again, in that they 
 
32 CAMBBIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 contain the metliod in wlucli this love of Christ 
 manifests itself. When St. John called himself 
 " that disciple whom Jesus loved," or at the 
 period in which he jjlaces those words, the great 
 manifestation of the love of Christ had not 
 been made. When St. Paul wrote, Christ had 
 given himself to the cross, and the love had mani- 
 fested itself in its own way. Therefore he wrote 
 more fully as he rejoiced to v/rite, " Who loved me 
 and gave himself for me." Indeed, the expres- 
 sions which St. Paul uses touching the love of 
 Christ are all of the strongest character. Pie 
 finds words insufficient as he rises into the vast 
 regions which are beyond language, and beyond 
 thought even. Thus, in his mind, the love of 
 Christ while it is something to be known, '' pass- 
 eth knowledg;e," and reaches infinitely far away. 
 Again, this love of Christ which comes to him 
 is not something which touches his life, and with 
 which he has no communion ; but it is something 
 to which his own heart is so bound that it is not 
 possible for anything in this world, or in any 
 world, to part the two asunder. Again, tliis love 
 which Christ gives to him is a love wliich not only 
 brings him the victory, but, going beyond that, 
 bestows more than the victory, for, " we are more 
 than conquerors through him that loved us." 
 And again, this love which Christ has for him is 
 not only a love which incites liim to good deeds, 
 and inclines him to do those tilings which please 
 
WHO LOVED ME. 33 
 
 Christ, but it comes with its constraining and 
 compelling force, until he feels himself taken 
 in hand by a strong power, and carried on to that 
 which Christ requires of him. We have but to 
 read these thoughts wherewith St. Paul expands 
 the love of Christ, this sentence in which he 
 declares that Christ loved him, to find how marvel- 
 lous is this conception, how profoundly it is settled 
 in his soul, and how wonderfully it is governing 
 his life. 
 
 If we ask when it was that this love was given 
 to him, the thought rises yet more in our minds 
 as we remember that this love of Christ was before 
 Christ died for him, and when this apostle was not 
 his friend. The man was indifferent to him ; the 
 indifference grew into hostility ; the hostility broke 
 into violence of the most cruel and relentless kind. 
 Yet Christ gave himself for one who did not love 
 him, and continued to give himself, and give his 
 affection, when St. Paul had become the violent 
 persecutor. We find this affection coming to him, 
 and working out for him this help through the 
 cross, at a time when, if we are to trust our own 
 thoughts, he might be reached in some other way. 
 For St. Paul was an honest and amiable man, 
 an upright man, and a religious man after the cus- 
 tom of his fathers, and very devout and very 
 scrupulous in his religion; and it was when he 
 was religious, and when he was honest, that 
 Christ loved him and gave himself for him. His 
 
34 CAMBRIDGE SEEMONS. 
 
 life had turned aside; he was misunderstanding 
 Christ. What was needed more than that the 
 Spirit should come to him and inform him in a 
 quiet way who Christ was, and, working within the 
 recesses of his soul, turn his thoughts towards 
 Christ, and his life into the service of Christ? 
 We are somewhat startled when we find that the 
 want of this religious man is not met but by the 
 Christ ; that the want of this upright man is not 
 met by any instruction or any spiritual power, but 
 only by the compassion of Christ who loved him. 
 " I, who am careful in my religion beyond all 
 men — a Hebrew of the Hebrews — I claim this 
 mercy of the Christ, who, that he might save me, 
 loved me and gave himself for me." 
 
 I think we can make a creed out of these words, 
 and a very large creed, and a very deep and rich 
 creed, whose articles might run somewhat in this 
 way : I believe in the Lord Jesus Christ who is 
 strong enough to give himself for me. I believe 
 in my necessity that the Son of God should give 
 himself for me. I believe in the love of Christ 
 which impelled him to give himself for me. I 
 believe in a godly life which can be lived by the 
 faith of the Son of God " who loved me and gave 
 himself for me." I believe in a destiny of everlast- 
 ing wealth and eternal blessedness which will be 
 given to me for the sake of him ''who loved me and 
 gave himself for me." How large a confession it 
 is; how profound an utterance of his acknowl- 
 
WHO LOVED ME. 35 
 
 edgraent! What an expression of his reverence, 
 of his faith, of his contrition, of his hope, of his 
 rejoicing ! The Avhole expansion of his thought, 
 the whole love of Christ, is condensed into this sin- 
 gle sentence which spreads before us like the light of 
 heaven, " Who loved me, and gave himself for me." 
 
 It was very natural that the working out of this 
 principle in the mind of the apostle should be 
 what it was. Even without reading his history 
 we know what must come of this v/hich he has 
 here told us. These three things must come, 
 certainly. 
 
 It must come to pass, first, that he will love the 
 one who has loved him and given himself for him. 
 There is but one thinc^ which the lovinfT heart is 
 content with giving, and that is love. There is but 
 one thing which the loving heart is content to 
 receive, and that is love. It is an absurdity to offer 
 an^^thing less : it is an injustice to receive anything 
 less. Even in our common relationships here there 
 is but one thing Avhich matches love, and that is 
 love. A marriaire between love on the one hand 
 and money on the other is an abomination in the 
 sight of God and man. Friendship which is between 
 affection on the one hand and service on the other 
 is a mockery and a shame. Piety which is 
 between God's love on the one hand and a man's 
 regard for the commandments on the other is not 
 rational; is not acceptable to the man's conscience, 
 and is not received in the court of Heaven. But 
 
36 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 one thing fits to love ; but one thing contents 
 love, either in the receiving or in the giving, and 
 that is love itself. It is not until one comes to 
 give this answer that he is very deeply conscious 
 of that to which he is making his response. I 
 suppose the reason that St. John applies to him- 
 self the words which, so far as we have any record, 
 no one else applied to him, '' that disciple whom 
 Jesus loved," was that he had a constant convic- 
 tion that he was that disciple who loved Jesus. 
 How much Peter loved he did not know; how 
 much Andrew and Thomas loved he could not 
 tell ; but he knew by every beating of his heart, 
 by all the force of his thought and his love, tliat 
 he loved Christ, and by that token he knew that 
 he was the disciple whom Jesus loved. For it is 
 inevitable when this man comes into the conscious- 
 ness that Christ loves him, that his love should 
 flow out as nothing else could draw it; that he 
 should know there is nothing less that he can give ; 
 there is nothing less that Christ will receive. 
 
 Then there will come from this, in the second 
 place, a trusting. It is impossible that one should 
 know Christ and love him without trusting him, 
 because he seeks to be depended upon according 
 to that which he comes to do, and that which he 
 promises to do, and that which we need to have 
 him do. We cannot feel that he will fail us. 
 The teaching of the apostle comes with force, 
 and always awakens one response : '^ God who 
 
WHO LOVED ME. 37 
 
 gave his Son for us will give us everything that 
 we need. Christ who gives himself for us will not 
 withhold anything we need. It is enough that he 
 beholds the necessity. Even there our Lord him- 
 self lel't it: "Your Father knoweth;" that is 
 enough. Your Father loveth; that is enough. 
 Therefore the man trusts him for the present and 
 for the future. It is out of this consciousness of a 
 common love that he comes into that sublime 
 confidence : " I know whom I have believed." 
 Well, what is he, who is he ? Who is this whom 
 you believe ? ''I believe in him who loved me 
 and gave himself for me ; and I know that I shall 
 receive a crown of righteousness in that day, for 
 he who will give me the crown has already given 
 me himself.'' He knows there can be no wasting 
 of this love. Feeling within that his love for Christ 
 can never change, he is yet more persuaded that 
 the love of Christ can never change. Indeed, he 
 might write out his own thought in the words of 
 that Enorlish woman who has suno^ so well of the 
 permanence of the love of Christ, the continuance 
 of his affection for us : 
 
 "Oh, never is Loved OXCE, 
 
 Thy word, thou Victim-Christ, misprized friend; 
 Thy cross and curse may rend; 
 
 But having loved, Thou lovest to the end ! " 
 
 And he would make answer, still in the words of 
 this sweet singer : 
 
38 CAMBllIBGE SERMONS, 
 
 *' Those never loved, 
 
 "Who dream that they loved once." 
 
 I think that by all which is true in the sacred 
 affections of our hearts, we believe that if there is 
 anything about us which will last, it is our love 
 for that which is lovely. The old doctrine, so 
 pleasant even in the sound of its words, of the 
 perseverance of the saints is nothing but the 
 doctrine of the permanence of love. As long as 
 Christ's love is true and fresh, they who love him 
 once love him forever. You ask tlie assurance 
 that we shall enjoy his presence forever : it is 
 that we love him here to-day. I know that it seems 
 sometimes as if love had passed away. It may be 
 because it never existed; it was a mere emotion 
 not worthy of that God-word, love. It may be 
 that it is merely obscured, as sometimes that 
 which is recent comes in to cover that which is 
 dearer to our hearts. Still, tlie singer is true, and 
 the Christ is true, and your hearts are true: 
 " Those never loved who dream that they loved 
 once." They who feel within them the assurance 
 of an unchanging love for Christ need no argu- 
 ment to prove to them the unchanging love of 
 Christ for them ; and npon that they rest their 
 hope in quiet trust. 
 
 Then there follows a third thing, of course, and 
 that is, the pleasing Christ. For the love at once 
 seeks to do that which will gratify the one who 
 is loved, recognizing this out of its own expe- 
 
WHO LOVED ME. 39 
 
 rience, that there is nothing so exacting as love; 
 that we always demand the most of those we love 
 the best; that wc are always the most solicitous 
 for the welfare of those who are dearest to us. 
 You are more anxious that your child should do 
 his best than that my child should do his best. 
 You always hold up the highest standard before 
 liim who is nearest to you, and expect from him 
 the most truthfulness, the most kindness, and the 
 most devotion. Yet on the other hand there is noth- 
 ing so small, if it be heartily given, that it is not dear 
 to you — the flower which your child has picked 
 from the wayside, the bright stone which he brings 
 in out of the road, the simple utterance of his affec- 
 tion, the simple clasping of his arms about your 
 neck. There is nothing too small for love to take, 
 there is nothing too great for love to ask. One 
 who knows this, finding it in the love of Christ for 
 him and his love for Christ, at once feels that 
 nothing can be too great tliat he shall do ; that he 
 can count all things but loss for the excellency of 
 the knowledge of Christ Jesus his Lord, and count 
 all things easy which shall please him wlio pleased 
 not himself. 
 
 The apostle has come here upon the law of 
 life. The one principle of life is stated in the 
 strong and precious words before us. First, 
 this is in God's life, for God is love. God is more 
 than love ; God is light also. God's love is not 
 centred and restrained within his own heart; it 
 
40 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 must go out, or it is not love ; it must give itself, 
 or it is not love. He is not content with living 
 and moving eternally in the sphere of his own 
 affection, but his love must reach out to men, to 
 every one who lives. Hence, if God loves men he 
 must go out to men ; he must meet them where 
 they are ; he must meet them in their necessities 
 and do for them what love requires. If at any 
 time it becomes necessary, he must put himself in 
 sacrifice for men. I wish that we might see the 
 marvellous reaching out of this simple truth. It 
 was the fine saying of a man whom we all delight 
 to honor, who never stood with more majesty than 
 when recently among missionaries and the friends 
 of missions he declared the sufficiency of the 
 love of God, and uttered that sentence which 
 might well be committed to our memory as a 
 fact of history and a prophecy for all that is 
 to be. " Christianity proclaims," he said, " in 
 three words, of one syllable each, the grandest 
 discovery ever made, the sublimest truth ever 
 uttered." There are but three words in the lan- 
 guage which answer that description. There are 
 but three words in the Bible which can come to 
 your minds in that connection — the grand, divine, 
 eternal truth that "' God is love." It is God's 
 love that is his life. Take it away, and you have 
 taken away so much from God ; you have taken 
 God from God. The principle of God's life within 
 himself, the principle of God's life among the 
 
WHO LOVED ME. 41 
 
 angels and among men, is the principle of a love 
 which goes out and finds men, and blesses them 
 according to their need. Hence, if one asks in 
 Gethsemane why it is not possible that the sac- 
 rifice may pass away, there is but one answer. If 
 it is a matter of will, it can pass away. Why can- 
 not the cup pass unless it be drained by the 
 Christ? Simply because those whom God loves 
 need to have it drained. Love will stop at noth- 
 ing. If men can be blessed by seeing the grapes 
 upon the vine, let it be so ; if they can be blessed 
 with maxims of ethics and philosophy, let it be 
 so. The time has come when those whom God 
 loves can only be blessed in that cup ; therefore it 
 is not possible that the cup should pass away until 
 it has been drained. And the reason it is not pos- 
 sible is, that God is love. 
 
 We come again upon this principle of life 
 in our Lord. Jesus Christ, who is here in the 
 world as the embodiment of the thought ; " God 
 so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten 
 Son." Christ so loved the world that he came into 
 it, and went about with ministries of mercy, until at 
 last he stretched out his hands upon the cross, lov- 
 ing men and giving himself for men. Take away 
 the love from Christ and what have you left ? 
 Possibly the teaching, perhaps the purity of his 
 life ; perhaps an example white as marble, and 
 moral maxims cold as snowflakes and as little 
 nourishing to the heart. The one thing which 
 
42 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 makes Christ clear to you, the Saviour, the Com- 
 forter, the Plelper, is that the life of Christ is love. 
 Hence, obviously, when you come to the Chris- 
 tian life the principle is the same. There is but one 
 life in Heaven and in earth, and that is God's life. 
 The life that we live in the flesh is the life of God 
 in us ; and when we come to the Christian life, it 
 is the life of Christ. There never was but one 
 Christian life, and that is Christ's life. I will not 
 play Avith words. If one chooses to say that this 
 is a Christian nation, and that men can be Chris- 
 tians though they do not believe in Christ, very 
 well. They are not the Christians of the New 
 Testament. You know the testimony of the poor 
 Chinaman at the West who found himself abused, 
 insulted in the streets, beaten and stoned, and who 
 wrote back the piteous tale in his simplicity : "The 
 men who did it are Christians, but they are not 
 Jesus-Christians." Now the only "Jesus-Chris- 
 ' tians " in the world are the Christians in whom 
 Jesus is. It is only as Christ is in us that we are 
 Christians ; it is only as Christ's life is in us that 
 we have the Christian life. Even as it flowed out 
 from the hands and the lips and the spirit of Jesus 
 of Nazareth must it flow out in our lives, in all 
 that we do and in all that we are, as we go our 
 way through the world. It comes to take us up 
 and control us and exalt us forever — the one 
 Christian life. I can come to Christ as the 
 greatest of teachers and sit calmly down to receive 
 
WHO LOVED ME. _ 43 
 
 his instructions ; I can come to him and mark the 
 purit}' and simplicity of his example ; I can follow 
 him until I am attracted by the charity and benev- 
 olence of his spirit; but I have not found the 
 Christ. No man whose heart was ever full of 
 the love of Christ was content to say, " Who 
 loved me and taught me the Sermon on the 
 Mount ; " " Who loved me and healed the sick and 
 raised the dead ; " " Who loved men and taught 
 them by a holy example tliat he could do what 
 they could never do." No Christian heart talks 
 in this way. It is the heart far away from him 
 which says it ; it is the Christian, perhaps, but it is 
 not the "' Jesus-Christian." " Thou shalt call his 
 name Jesus, for he shall teach men to pay their 
 debts," — who said it ? Never tlie Christ, never 
 the disciple, never the man whom Jesus loved. 
 " Tliou shalt call his name Jesus, for he shall save 
 his people from their sins." Now we know what 
 St. Paul means: "Who loved me and gave " — 
 not his words, not his miracles, — " who gave him- 
 self for me." I gather up his teachings and all 
 which is matchless and precious in his life, in this 
 one gift ; for when I have my friend, I have my 
 friend's house, I have his words, I have his ex- 
 ample, I have liis love ; I get all when I get him ; 
 I get everything which any one else gets, and I 
 get more when I get the Christ v/ho gave him- 
 self. Taking himself in his hands, he gave him- 
 self over to me and became mine, my own, my 
 
44 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 own Saviour. I do not believe that I shall ever 
 learn, even from the Sermon on the Mount, the 
 spirit which will make mQ kneel down before my 
 Judas and wash his feet. If ever in God's grace I 
 become able to do that, it will be because there 
 stands before me the Christ girded with a towel, 
 and with a basin of water in his hands, and love 
 in his heart. I do not believe that I can ever go in 
 self-forgetful devotion through the world because 
 I know that Christ fed the multitudes and taught 
 sweet lessons of charity. I do not believe that I 
 can ever lose my life for Christ's sake while I content 
 myself with gathering up his parables and taking 
 their blessed lessons to my heart. But at the 
 cross there is this spirit ; in the cross I seek it ; 
 from the cross I take it. "I can do all things," 
 do you say, " for I know that Christ stilled the 
 tempest on the sea of Galilee, and I know that he 
 said we should render unto Ciesar the things that are 
 Caesar's, and unto God the things that are God's ? " 
 Oh ! do it if you can. If I am ever able, I believe 
 if you are ever able, to make up a Christian life 
 in the world, it will be under the constraint of 
 that word which this man wrote : " I can do all 
 things through Christ," " who loved me and give 
 himself for me." 
 
 I think we have found many instances besides 
 those which are recorded in Holy Scripture 
 where this principle rules. We need not go out 
 of our own homes to find the controlling power of 
 
WHO LOVED ME. 45 
 
 love, if not the freshness and the strength of it ; the 
 love which makes a man toil unto old age for 
 those whom he loves ; which makes a mother 
 watch through the weary nights, nor mark the 
 hours, for those she loves ; the pure sparks from 
 the glowing heart of God's affection. If we look 
 at those who have stood out with marked lives 
 of usefulness and devotion, we find this principle. 
 That missionary mother separating from her chil- 
 dren on a foreign shore, sending them away from 
 her home that they might receive the nurture of 
 her native land, and as the boat pushes out which 
 is never to come back, lifting up her heart to 
 say, " I do this for thee, Jesus," has a love like the 
 love of Christ ; " I do this for thee, Jesus, for 
 thou hast left thy Father's house for me," that is 
 her thought. Then there are those words of 
 that noble man who wrote to his children in 
 England, out of the heart of Africa, " Tell them I 
 have left them for the love of Jesus, and they 
 must love him too." Hear his cr}^, " O divine 
 Love, I have not loved Thee strongly, deeply, 
 warmly enough." " O Jesus, fill me with Thy love 
 ngw, and, I beseech Thee, accept me, and use mo 
 a little for Thy glory." There is but one force 
 which can do this ; there is but one power 
 which bears men into tliis divine usefulness; 
 and the power lies within this brief sentence : "I 
 do this for him who loved me and gave himself for 
 me." 
 
46 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS, 
 
 Friends, the lesson for every one of us is tins 
 — not for those without the Church more than for 
 those within the Church ; it is the great lesson for 
 all men : — that if we are to live the life which 
 is worthy of us, it must be as we receive the' 
 life of the Christ, and the Christ at his best. 
 When your life moving up blends with his life, 
 when the love of Christ comes into your heart 
 to take possession of it, there can be but one 
 result. It will save you, for Christ gives him- 
 self to save sinners ; it will bring you up into the 
 Christly life, for Christ comes, the vine, to give his 
 life unto the branches ; it will govern your 
 thoughts, your purposes, jomy steps ; it will exalt 
 your life and sanctify and glorify your spirit ; it 
 will bring you at last into that grand fulfilment 
 which the beloved disciple saw and could not de- 
 scribe : '' We shall be like him, for we shall see 
 him as he is." Whosoever sees Christ as he is, 
 sees Christ loving him and giving himself for him. 
 Oh! see it, friends; look until you see it; look 
 until the sun goes down ; look until the morning 
 comes ; wait, gaze, look, look with longing eyes 
 until you see it ! When that thought becomes 
 your thought, when it takes hold upon you as 
 a part of your life, then will God be glorified in 
 you, and you will live in the faith of the Son of 
 God who loved you and gave himself for you. 
 
 Let me turn as I close to the teaching of Christ 
 himself — uttered not in Syriac syllables, nor 
 
WHO LOVED ME. 47 
 
 in English sentences, which \\q might not nnder- 
 stancl, and whose power and beauty we might not 
 perceive — the words of Christ spoken in this 
 body of Christ which is here set forth again before 
 us. There is Christ. Do you want to come close 
 to him? You will find him there. He said that 
 we must eat his flesh to have life ; we must drink 
 his blood to have life ; we have not seen him 
 until we have seen him on the cross ; v/e have not 
 found his love until we have found his love cruci- 
 fying itself; we have not entered into his grace 
 until liis pierced hands have held us against the 
 bosom of his divine, redeeming love. 
 
 They sa}^ sometimes in Scotland, in their quaint 
 phrase, that the Lord's table is " fenced." You 
 do not see the fence hero; there is none — not a 
 wall, not a door open or shut. There is but one 
 guard around that table : a circle of light stream- 
 ing out from the bread and from the wine, a circle of 
 light around it, made of these divine words : " Who 
 loved me, and gave himself for me." You nnist 
 not think to step over it, to pass under it, to re- 
 move it. You draw near, and stooping down, you 
 lift it in your hands, you hold it to your heart, 
 and thus you come to the Lord's table, Avhich is 
 the table of your Saviour, and he gives you to eat 
 and drink with him. There is no fence about the 
 Church. On its threshold lies a single line : '' Wlio 
 loved me, and gave himself for me." Take it up 
 in your hands and hold it in your heart and the 
 
48 CAMBRIDGE SEEMONS. 
 
 Church is open. The door of Heaven is always 
 open. Across the threshold of Heaven there lies 
 one line of light. You take it into your life and 
 pass on with it to the throne, carrying it in your 
 rejoicing, "Who loved me, and gave himself for 
 me." 
 
 Oh, dearly, dearly has he loved. 
 
 And we must love him too, 
 And trust in his redeeming blood, 
 
 And try his works to do. 
 
III. 
 
 CHOOSE WHOM YE WILL SERVE. 
 
 Scripture Lesson : S. Matt, vii : 13-29. 
 
 Text: Choose you this day whom ye will serve." JosJnca 
 xxiv : 15. 
 
 I MUST ask you to read the last two chapters 
 of this Book of Joshua, to recall to your 
 minds the circumstances under which these words 
 were spoken. Joshua was an old man ; his life as 
 a chieftain and a statesman was about to end. 
 He was giving- liis last words to the people. He 
 did not cany them througli the details of the life 
 which they were to live ; he did not give them 
 commandments arranged in systematic order; he 
 brought them rather to one point where they 
 were to stand, and, standing there, or moving 
 from that point towards God, they were to make 
 up their life. He did not mean that they were to 
 choose between one God and another, although 
 the form of his words mig^ht suc^crest that. He 
 knew there was not a man among them who 
 would choose the gods of the Amorites, or the 
 gods en the other side of the river, instead of 
 
 49 
 
50 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 Jehovah. What he did was to state in a strong 
 way their duty and privilege ; that they should 
 choose as he had done ; that they should choose 
 the Lord to be their God. Moses had been 
 placed in somewhat similar circumstances on the 
 day of the worship of the golden calf, when, 
 standing before the people, he cried Avith a voice 
 of indignation and reverence, '' Who is on the 
 Lord's side? Let him come unto me." Later 
 than this, in the days of Baal, Elijah cried with 
 the same spirit: "How long halt ye between two 
 opinions ? If the Lord be God, follow him." 
 
 It is evident that this mode of presenting the 
 claim which God makes upon us is somewhat dif- 
 ferefit from that in which it is usually presented. 
 This form of words has very much passed out of 
 use, and the thought which lies within the words 
 has been in a measure superseded. We are not 
 saying to-day, " Choose you whom ye will serve ; " 
 we are saying, " choose you whom ye will trust." 
 We have passed over from this idea of a life 
 which is to be lived for God to a life in which God 
 is to take us up and carry us on, promising us 
 Heaven, alluring us with pleasures all the way, and 
 indulging our wishes at every point, if so be, in 
 our condescension, we will consent to be saved. I 
 think that it is for lack of the strong element which 
 the Scriptures always present, that it is man's 
 duty to obey God, our piety has fallen so much 
 upon inefficiency ; that it lacks nerve; that even 
 
CHOOSE WHOM YE WILL SERVE. 51 
 
 our belief of the truth grows feeble and our obedi- 
 ence of the truth feebler ; that our devotion to 
 God is an uncertain thing, and our service ahnost 
 as variable as our states of mind. We need to 
 have breathed into our thoughts a feeling of duty ; 
 a sense of something which we must do ; of a life 
 which we are to live. I gather it all up into this 
 saying of the old Hebrew statesman in which we 
 are called upon to choose whom we will serve ; to 
 choose God and to serve him continually. 
 
 While the thought of trusting Christ and the 
 offers of his grace appear so much in the New 
 Testament, this thought of serving God is the 
 underlying principle throughout. Our Lord 
 never, in all his offer of rest and peace and mercj', 
 lost sight of this. What was his most common 
 idea of that life into which he called men ? It was 
 life in a kingdom. " The kingdom of God," "The 
 kingdom of heaven," were his common phrases. 
 Men are to live under the eye of a king and to 
 obey him to the end. So, when he presented the 
 kingdom of heaven with all its delights under the 
 image of a marriage feast, it was not a feast 
 spread by the wayside where men were working ; 
 it was not a table laid in the thickets where they 
 might be reclining; it was a feast within the gates 
 of the king's house. If any man ate of the feast, 
 he came up out of the highways, passed through the 
 door, entered into the place where the table was 
 spread, and there took his place. Christ knew 
 
52 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 nothing of any joy for a man ontsicle of the king's 
 house. So it was with the parable of the prodigal 
 son, in which our Lord did not promise certain 
 joys to be had by remaining in the " far coun- 
 try ; " he did not teacli that there were for this 
 wretch a robe, and a ring, and a kiss, and a fatted 
 calf, and all the blessings of life, while he was by 
 his own act an exile and wanderer, or that there 
 was one of them anywhere but where his father 
 was. If he was to be blessed as he wished, he 
 must go home, and within his father's house' 
 he would find what was there alone — his father's 
 blessing and his grace. Indeed, the whole thought 
 of the redemption of Christ rests upon this. 
 The cross of Christ springs indeed out of God's- 
 love, but it holds fast to this idea of the obedience 
 of the soul to God. Christ bids men leave their 
 boats and follow him — leave their lives and 
 follow him. The order of events is like 
 this : First, God and his will ; then men obeying 
 God's will and living in happiness and holiness : 
 then men breaking Avith God's will and passing 
 into sinfulness ; then God coming to ransom men 
 out of this state of sin and misery, and to bring 
 them back into the state in which they were 
 before, establishing them again in integrity that 
 they might have the blessing of God. If we view 
 this life, as we sometimes do, as a road, men have 
 stepped off the road and wandered away from 
 it. When God comes to them he does not point 
 
CHOOSE WHOM YE WILL SERVE. 53 
 
 to a newpiitli, or make a new highway for them ; 
 he brmgs them back into the old road, that, walking 
 thereon, they may go to the end to which they 
 would have gone if they liad never turned away. 
 Tiiis truth of obedience is in entire harmony with 
 the tender thoughts applied to God. If we speak 
 of God as love, we have asserted the strongest of 
 all reasons why we should serve him. If w^e 
 call God our father, we have declared at once the 
 very reason why we ought to obey him and 
 seek his pleasure in all things. If we speak of the 
 love we have for God, we have declared the very 
 principle Avhich will make us do his will. The 
 soul of obedience is love, and the body of love 
 is obedience. 
 
 Passing from these primary considerations, let 
 us notice a few things. In the first place, this : 
 that the law of God, which is given to us to be 
 obeyed, is the expression of the nature of God. 
 There is a great difference between the law of 
 God and the law of men. The law of God is a 
 necessary law ; it is simply his own nature opening 
 itself out. It may very well happen, that a king 
 may come to the throne and find the constitution 
 and legislation all prepared. He may not like the 
 constitution, but he must administer it ; he may 
 not approve the laws, but he must administer 
 the laws. He is held to this althouc^h his own life 
 and his own spirit may be at variance with the 
 laws all the way through. It is not at all so with 
 
54 CAMBRIDGE SEBMONS. 
 
 Gocl. God is before all constitutions and all 
 statutes and all principles of life ; and these prin- 
 ciples are but the expression of himself. God is 
 love : God's love utters itself. God is holiness ; 
 this holiness makes itself known in holy desires 
 and holy commandments for the children of men. 
 It is very much like the sun and its light. The 
 sun gives light because it is the sun; it is the 
 nature of it to shine ; and God gives command- 
 ments because it is his nature to give them. Do 
 you not, even as earthly fathers and mothers, tell 
 your children what you know they ought to 
 do? That is a little of the same principle which 
 makes God tell you and me what we ought to do, 
 because this is the right thing to do ; because this 
 is the pleasant thing to do; because this is the 
 profitable thing to do, but above all because this 
 is the right thing to do. So long as God is 
 God he must tell us what to do ; so long as God is 
 hol}^ he will tell us holy things to do ; so long as 
 he is God, we ought to do those things which 
 he gives us to do. Indeed, it is simply out of the 
 question that we should have God without having 
 his commandments. To return to the figure of 
 the sun, you do not get the benefit of the sun un- 
 less you get its light. Without that the orb yonder 
 in the heavens is little to you. They have been 
 reckoning up its distance, whether it be ninety- 
 two or ninety-five millions of miles away. It 
 might be a million times further than it is ; it is 
 
CHOOSE WHOM YE WILL SERVE. 55 
 
 nothing to you, unless it gives you something and 
 you tiike that something. It is little to you that 
 there is a God yonder, unless something comes 
 down from liim so that you can take hold of it ; un- 
 less his law comes down, and you know what to do ; 
 unless his strength comes down, and you are able 
 to do it. Without the gift, it is to small purpose 
 that yonder shines the sun, or yonder reigns 
 the God. God gives these laws which are a part 
 of himself. He speaks, and it is commandment ; 
 he looks, and it is statute ; he wishes, and it 
 is law ; he brings his great desires and counsels 
 among men that we may take them and make our 
 life out of them. It is simply God out of his own 
 nature breathing his nature, as the perfume comes 
 from the flower, as light comes from the sun, 
 as fruit comes from the tree, as goodness comes 
 from the good, breathing his own nature in com- 
 mandments down among the children of men. 
 " Choose you," says this old Hebrew statesman, 
 " choose you to take the light of the sun ; choose 
 you to take the fruit of the tree ; choose you 
 to take the nature of God which along these lines 
 of light comes down to 3'Ou for your guidance and 
 your comfort." It is not meant, again let me say, 
 that we should choose between God and another. 
 I suppose that to none of us does this choice 
 present itself to-day in any tangible shape. How- 
 ever men may reason it out, whatever we may say 
 in our homilies and exhortations, I presume it 
 
56 CAMBBIDGE SEE^WNS. 
 
 is not true of any one here to-day that he has 
 chosen deliberately to serve any one except God. 
 He may be serving some one else, but that ever he 
 has said to any one else in heaven or earth, 
 '' Thou art my God and I will serve thee," is not 
 to be believed. Yet it may come to pass prac- 
 tically that a man does serve another. We are 
 not to consider here the relative value of this 
 or that which he serves. My only interest to-day, 
 brethren, is to beg you to choose God and to serve 
 him. Whether it be Baal, or Ashtaroth, or the 
 gods of the Amorites, is comparatively a small 
 matter. Take any one according to your fancy, 
 if from among these you are to make your choice. 
 But with all earnestness I pray you to choose the 
 only one whose right it is to reign ; the only one 
 whom you have a right to serve. 
 
 The choice of a principle and method of life 
 may be made by a natural and simple process. I 
 may consult simply my own pleasure. I may say, 
 '' I will do those things which I wish to do." 
 I am very likely to do this carelessly, floating on 
 from day to day, planning to-day Avhat I want 
 to do to-day, waking to-morrow morning and 
 planning again what I want to do in that day. 
 In all I stand up as the object of my own thought 
 and care. I may do this wilfully, or I may do it 
 without a conscious volition. 
 
 I may choose to do what other men wish to have 
 me do ; I may do this deliberately, or I may do it 
 
CHOOSE WHOM YE WILL SERVE. 57 
 
 out of an easy good nature which tries from liour 
 to hour to j)lease my friends. I may choose to 
 do Avhat others are doing; I may do this delib- 
 erately, or I may do it by that force of imitation 
 which makes me, in my amiability, follow in 
 the steps of others. I may combine these. On 
 some days I may serve myself and on some my 
 fellows. I may vary these methods, or unite them 
 into one, so that I can hardly tell whether I 
 am living for myself or for humanity. There 
 are many varieties of this idolatry. Against all of 
 them stands out the one who alone is God, and 
 the exhortation of the preacher is, " Choose the 
 Lord God and serve him." 
 
 When a man has done this it is very evident 
 that he stands in the way of righteousness and of 
 blessing. I have said little thus far of that which 
 we term Christianity ; I have said nothing about 
 coming to Christ to be saved. Yet I wish to 
 recall this single point, and I pray that this 
 may be noticed now, before we pass to anything 
 else. Choose God, Jehovah, the maker of heaven 
 and earth, your maker, jonr father ; choose him 
 and serve him. Determine with yourself this : 
 " Whatever God asks, whatever is his command- 
 ment, I will obe3\ Heaven and earth may pass 
 away, I will be true to this. Come sunshine or 
 storm, come wealth or poverty, come life or death, 
 I will be true to God." They said to Napoleon 
 when he was before a certain castle, "Sire, if you 
 
68 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. . 
 
 attempt to take this castle it will cost you tlie 
 lives of ten thousand men." " Then I will give 
 the lives of ten thousand men." So choose God. 
 Men will tell you that it will change jowv life : 
 very well. They will tell 3'ou that it will make 
 you pray : that it will bring 3^ou into the church : 
 very well. If it cost you ten thousand lives, pay 
 them for your own life ten thousand times over. 
 It is this for which I plead. Choose God always 
 to be served, wherever he leads, whatever he 
 forbids, whatever he requires. The man who shall 
 do this stands with Ids face towards God, and with 
 his life towards God; he stands in the way in 
 which he shall be blessed. Very certain is it that 
 God will come to this man ; that God's grace will 
 find him. He may never have heard of Christ, 
 but he will find Christ, or Christ will find him. 
 The love of God looking upon him wher^ he 
 stands, will come flowing out of the heavens until 
 it gathers about his feet and takes him up and he 
 is borne away on the grace of Christ. There can 
 be nothing which will commend a man more to 
 the grace of God than the single purpose to do the 
 will of God. The man who stands facing God 
 will be found of God. I believe the great reason 
 why men do not find God is because they are not 
 looking for him. They say, "I will find his 
 mercy; I will find blessing at his hands; and after 
 a time I will determine to serve him ; as if they 
 said, " I will take a voyage to Europe after I have 
 
CnOOSE WHOM YE WILL SERVE. 59 
 
 wandered over the mountains of Switzerland." 
 There is but one thing first in any right life ; 
 there is but one thing first in any Christian career ; 
 and that is to choose God and pledge the life 
 to him. Then God comes to help and save the 
 man. The good shepherd seeketli the sheep upon 
 the mountains to bring him down to the fold. If 
 the shepherd be going one way, and the sheep, 
 even with the purpose to find the fold, be going 
 another way, they may never meet. If the shep- 
 herd is seeking the sheep, and the sheep is seeking 
 the fold, and seeking the fold is going directly 
 towards the shepherd, they will meet; they are 
 sure to meet. If Christ goes out from God to find 
 a man, and the man is coming towards God, 
 the}^ will come together. Two trains going in 
 opposite directions on the same track are certain 
 to meet. Christ coming from God and man going 
 towards God are sure to meet. Therefore I 
 say, set your face towards God and you are facing 
 the approaching Christ. Indeed, if we take 
 Christ's work itself, we find that the object of his 
 life in the world was to brine: nien into this obedi- 
 ence to God. We have not estimated his work at 
 all correctly or thoroughly unless we see that tlie 
 outcome of it all was to bring men to God. It is 
 a thoroughly false idea that Christ came into the 
 world simply to make men happy, or simplv to 
 put men in one place rather than another. Christ 
 came into the world to bring men back where 
 
60 CAMBRIDGE SEEMONS. 
 
 they always ought to have been ; and he will 
 never be content till he has clone this ; and he 
 will never have saved a man until he brings 
 him there. "You may throw yourself into the 
 water and drown, trying to save a drowning man ; 
 but all your pains go for nothing so long as 
 the man remains under the water. I say it rever- 
 ently, the Son of God may die for sinners, but 
 so long as men continue in their sin he has died 
 in vain. Tiie redemption of Christ may be able 
 to save men from sin unto the uttermost, but 
 so long as men will continue to sin they are 
 not saved. It is only as we come wdiere we are 
 right with God that we are saved ; and when 
 we are there, nothing can harm us. Do you not 
 mark that the shepherd when he goes forth for 
 the sheep, and finds him upon the mountains, does 
 not there pity him, weep over him, tearing his own 
 hands upon the thorns to make a pretty little fold 
 for him, and shelter him and feed him with the 
 scant herbage which grows in that frigid clime, 
 trying to make the sheep happy there ? I believe 
 that is the idea which a great many people have 
 of Christ's work : that he comes down into this 
 poor, broken world and tries to make us contented 
 here ; tries to take off a little of the cold, the sin, 
 the unrighteousness and unbelief; whereas Christ 
 never stays upon the mountain longer than is 
 necessary ; he will not leave the lamb upon the 
 mountain, but take ]iim in liis arms or on his 
 
CHOOSE WnOM YE WILL SERVE. 61 
 
 shoulder and cany him down into the fold, and 
 never stop until he is there. He is no friend 
 to tlie prodigal, who, finding liim down in the 
 " far country," says, '* Oh ! man, this is a hard 
 life ; this feeding swine is unprofitable ; I will 
 give you a more comfortable situation near by ; I 
 will give you better wages. You are clothed 
 with rags : I will give you good clothing ; you are 
 hungry: I will feed you" — he is no friend who 
 says that. The only one who can befriend the 
 prodigal is he who says, " Oh ! man, come home. 
 No matter what 3^ou do here ; no matter how you 
 fare here ; no matter whether you are in rags and 
 hungry, or not ; you are wretched ; you are wrong 
 here ; the only kindness I can do you is to carry 
 you home to your father's house." That is the 
 work of the Lord Jesus Christ. 
 
 I think you know that I believe in the kind- 
 ness and love of Christ for men ; but to make 
 men contented in disobedience is not his kind- 
 ness. To make a man happy before he has chosen 
 to serve God, it is not right ; it is not kind. It 
 would be almost working against God liimself 
 if Christ tried to make us contented before we 
 have chosen God that we may serve him. If 
 Christ makes our homes happy witliout God, that 
 we may be contented in tliem ; if he soothes our 
 sin, and takes off the grosser form of it, so that 
 our conscience may not trouble us ; he is no 
 longer kind, for he is keeping us away- from 
 
 
 THSGLOC 
 
62 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 God; keeping ns still guilty; leaving us still lost. 
 He is not kind until, dying for us, he takes us to 
 bring us back to God. The work of Christ is 
 that you and I may choose God and serve him. 
 
 What shall we do, then, we who know Christ's 
 name to-day ? I have spoken of those who might 
 come to God not knowing Christ. We know 
 Christ : what are we to do ? Manifestly, we are 
 to use what we know. If 3^ou know where a man 
 is, then act as if you knew where he is. There 
 are times when you want to find some one and 
 you do not know where he is. You look for him 
 in one house and another, one town and another, 
 one country and another ; but if you know where 
 the man is, you go directly there. If you do not 
 know where God is, search the heavens and 
 earth until 3^ou find him. Suppose you want to 
 find what a man's will is : you conjecture, you 
 inquire, you ask in vain in a hundred places ; but 
 if you can find the man, by asking him you 
 find what his will is. That is the right thing 
 to do. We want to come to God using what we 
 know ; not setting aside our knowledge of Christ 
 and his truth; not setting aside the Gospel as if 
 we were to come to God without the Gospel. We 
 take what we know. And what do we know? 
 Wh}^, we know that God is a great deal nearer to 
 us than the stars are ; we know that God is here 
 in Christ his Son seeking to reconcile us unto 
 himself. We want to find God, we who know 
 
CHOOSE WHOM YE WILL SERVE. G3 
 
 Christ. Then wliat shall we do? Why, "come 
 where God is closest to us, and that is in Christ. 
 Find God where he is. Suppose I want to find 
 you at this moment, because I have a message 
 which I must give to you at once. Should I not 
 be foolish if I should go to your house and call 
 for you tiiere, when I know all the time that you 
 are here? Should I not be more foolish, if, try- 
 ing to find God, I pass away from God when he 
 is here, in Christ his Son, and look far away 
 for him, wandering over the long path and seek- 
 ing him at the distant door of Heaven ? We 
 shall find God where he is nearest. 
 
 I Avant to know the will of God because I want 
 to do it : where shall I find it ? Christ declares 
 the will of God and illustrates it in his life. I 
 come to him and learn it from him. Or, I want 
 to find the grace of God ; I want to know wliether 
 I, who have wandered away, can come back ; 
 whether I, who have done Avrong, can be forgiven. 
 I ask the astronomers on their nightly watch- 
 towers to tell me what the Pleiades say, or what 
 is written on the bands of Orion. Why should I 
 not reverence the astronomer? But Avhat are the 
 stars telling ? What can any one say of the grace 
 of God save God himself? God comes with his 
 grace and Christ declares it, and I come to him 
 because he knows, and I want to know, whether I 
 can be forgiven, and how I can be forgiven. 
 Knowing Christ I come to Christ, because in 
 
64 CAMBBIBGE SEEMONS. 
 
 Christ God is nearest, because in Christ God's 
 will is most plainly declared, because in Christ 
 alone God's grace is manifest, and finding him I 
 find God. This, then, becomes for us who are 
 intelligent men to-day, who know of Christ and 
 have his gospel, the one thing to do : to choose to 
 serve God, and to choose God who comes to us in 
 Christ, whose will is declared by Christ, whose 
 grace in Christ works out our redemption. 
 
 But let me ask you to notice again, that this 
 redemption in itself is not the place where we are 
 to stop. It is to bear us on to something else. 
 It is not the final stage ; it is not our rest ; it 
 carries us on to something beyond it. Christ came 
 to bring men to God ; and not until he has brought 
 them to God and given them to God — God's ran- 
 somed children, who are henceforth to live with 
 him and obey him — has he done his work. I know 
 that beautiful line of the hymn ; I would not take 
 a note from its divine and blessed melody. It is 
 true, but, like most single lines, it is but a fragment 
 of the truth : — 
 
 Simply to thy cross I cling. 
 
 Yes ; with the arms of a clinging faith. I shrink 
 from going on, lest any one should think I do not 
 make enough of that which is the heart and life of 
 piety, the simple trust in Christ and him crucified. 
 But what did Christ ever say, what did the apos- 
 tles ever teach, which warrants you in saying, 
 
CHOOSE WHOM YE WILL SERVE. 05 
 
 " All I have to do is to cling to the cross ? " 
 What did Jesus say about the cross? He said, 
 "Take it up and go about obeying the will of 
 God." Cling to the cross, not as one who is 
 weary and is there finding rest alone ; not merely 
 as one who is guilty and is there finding pardon 
 alone. Cling to it, doing the will of God. Where 
 would the world have been to-day if John, and 
 Peter, and Paul had been content to cling to the 
 cross and do nothing more? You have God to 
 serve, and a man cannot do all the will of God 
 sitting in a sanctuary, kneeling in a closet, clasp- 
 ing his arms around a sacred tree, or laying his 
 cheek against the wood that is red with the blood 
 of the Christ of God. By Christ alone are we 
 saved, and Christ we are to follow. Cling to the 
 cross, but not " simpl}^" Cling to the cross, but 
 go about clinging to it. Cling to the cross, but 
 obey God while you cling, following his command- 
 ments with your deeds, glorifjdng him upon the 
 earth, finishing the work which he has given you 
 to do. Cling to the cross until the eternal glory 
 comes ; but while you cling, follow Christ whither- 
 soever he leads you. 
 
 If we are not to rest upon redemption, but to 
 go through it to that which is be^^ond, still less are 
 we to rest upon virtue. Let us pause long enough 
 to pay a tribute of sincerest respect to honesty, 
 truth-telling, charity, virtue. But should a man 
 rest in these ? Is it enough for a man that he be 
 
66 CAMBIilDGE SEEMONS. 
 
 honest with all the men who live on streets running 
 east and west, though he be not honest with -men 
 living on streets running north and south? Is it 
 honest for a man to do what he ought with his 
 neighbor, and not to do what he ought with his 
 God ? Is it right for a man to love his mother and 
 not his father ? Is it right for a man to love his 
 father here and not his Father there ? What is 
 honesty? It is a poor, bruised, disfigured image 
 of honesty which men bow down before, when all 
 their life through they are dishonest because they 
 do not serve God with their heart and with their 
 life. There is no reason why a man should do 
 the will of men which does not hold him to the will 
 of God. The reasons which bind a man to love his 
 father, hold him to the love of God. Why, then, 
 rest in this which is almost sure to slip into vanity 
 and self praise, the feeling that we are honest, 
 paying our debts, dealing justly, and that this is 
 enough? Poor father, I pity you if you have a 
 thankless child ! Sometimes I want to pity God 
 for thankless children ; for honest men who never 
 pray, virtuous men who never love him, truth- 
 telling men who never choose to serve him. 
 
 How beautiful are those Psalms, and the 
 other passages of the old and new Scriptures 
 which describe the life of a good man ! How 
 wonderfull}^ have they been abused; as if one 
 should take the jewels from the king's crown and 
 tread them in the dust. The fifteenth Psalm; 
 
CHOOSE WHOM YE WILL SERVE. 67 
 
 " Lord, who shall abide in thy tabernacle, wlio 
 shall dwell in thy holy hill? He that walketh 
 uprightly, and worketh righteousness." Strange 
 as it seems, men have even used tliat Psalm as a 
 reason for not being Christians. They repeat its 
 words and keep away from Christ. And that 
 other verse : " What dotli the Lord require of 
 thee, but to do justly, and' to love mercy, and to 
 walk humbly with thy God." Men have even 
 taken that as a reason for not loving Christ. 
 "Fear God, and keep his commandments; for this 
 is the whole duty of man " — " therefore we need 
 not be Christians," some have said. Oh, the wrong, 
 the injustice, the cruelty of it I These passages of 
 Scripture all describe truly the estate of men when 
 God is pleased with them, but they describe an 
 estate into which we are to enter. Christ's work 
 in the world is to enable us to enter into it. He 
 comes that the fifteenth Psalm may be true of us. 
 Change the prophet's question. What doth the 
 Lord require of thee in order that thou shouldst 
 see the mountains and valleys of Switzerland? 
 To go out in the morning and walk through val- 
 leys and over mountains with open eyes ; that is 
 all. Do it to-morrow morning, and will you see 
 the Alps? What doth the Lord require of a man 
 who wants to see the mountains but to look ? 
 Why, there is a small matter of getting to Switz- 
 erland which ought not to be neglected. " Lord, 
 who shall abide in thy tabernacle ? " — there is a 
 
68 CAMBRIDGE SER3WNS. 
 
 little matter of getting into the tabernacle before 
 you abide there. We enter by Christ's work. "He 
 that hath clean hands," we say calmly ; but let us 
 remember that Christ has come to make our hands 
 clean. " Blessed are the pure in heart." Christ 
 came to make us pure in heart. When Christ's 
 work is done in us, then the Psalm becomes the 
 glad reality of our life. Let us never mistake the 
 end for the means, or the means for the end. God 
 Avould bring us into this righteousness, but the 
 way to come into it is by the choice of God, and 
 Christ the Son of God, our Saviour. 
 
 As I have thouglit upon these things there has 
 come to me again and again that incident in 
 Elijah's life, when he stood by the river through 
 whose parted waters he liad just walked, and was 
 to be taken awa3^ There appeared a chariot of 
 fire and horses of fire, and the Lord took the 
 prophet in the chariot, and carried him up into 
 the glory. I read it now as a parable ; the 
 chariot of fire and the horses of fire remind us 
 of our Lord Jesus Christ who has come where we 
 are. The chariot is not heaven, but the horses 
 can take us up into heaven. " The cliariot of 
 fire and the horses of fire" are from God, and are to 
 take us to God. We come to Christ, we enter 
 into Christ, and Christ bears us up to our Fatlier's 
 house. Read that sentence of our Lord's own 
 words : " No man cometh unto the Father but 
 by me;" and this other sentence, which is less 
 
CHOOSE WHOM YE WILL SERVE. G9 
 
 familiar, " No man can come to me except tlie 
 Father which liatli sent me draw liim." We 
 have Gocl seeking us, bringing us to Christ the 
 Saviour, and then Christ taking us up into the 
 tabernacle and temple of our God. 
 
 What do I beg for to-day, then? That with 
 one act we will choose God, bringing our will 
 to bear upon this act, using our thought and our 
 life until we choose God and find him and dwell 
 in his grace. 
 
 Can we do this? Can we not agree so far as 
 this: that we wdll take the Lord to be our God? 
 Can w^e agree upon this to-day, brethren, and 
 then pass on to the study of God's will and to 
 the results of it? Here, this morning, I speak to 
 you and I speak to my own heart. Can we cov- 
 enant with God so far as this, that we will serve 
 him with all our heart and with all our life ? He 
 who shall come so far as that shall hnd the mercy 
 of God bearing him up into the glory. 
 
 Now, as we go away, shall Ave sing a loyal 
 hymn, the hymn of a loyal people, the hymn of 
 true hearts singing unto their Lord ? 
 
 All hail the power of Jesus' name. 
 
IV. 
 LOOKING TOWARD THE SEA. 
 
 Scripture Lesson : Acis, xxvii. 
 
 Text : Go up now, look toward the sea : / Kings, xviii : 48. 
 
 THE prophet was waiting for rain. The cloud 
 which was to bring it in abundance would 
 come by the way of the sea. He sent his servant 
 seven times that he might know if the cloud was 
 coming. '' Elijah went up to the top of Carmel ; 
 and he cast himself down upon the earth, and put 
 his face between his knees, and said to his servant, 
 Go up now, look toward the sea." 
 
 It is with a similar intention that men have 
 commonly looked toward the sea. They have 
 sought something from it. They have looked for 
 benefits which must pass over it to reach them. 
 They have taken its treasures. They have made 
 it a highway for the ships which have carried their 
 merchandise from land to land, and exchanged the 
 products of separated climes. They have jour- 
 neyed over it that they might visit lands of historic 
 interest, or study the living institutions of the 
 world. The shores of our own land were sought 
 
LOOKING TOWARD THE SEA. 71 
 
 in ships which pressed their wa}^ across the 
 sea, bearing the men who looked beyond the wide 
 waters for a liaven for their liberty and purity. 
 This church, this college, this nation, came by the 
 way of the sea. 
 
 Our greatest enterprises make an alliance with 
 the sea and the men who belong to it. Ships 
 must carry our missionaries to the ends of the 
 earth, that they may erect in every land the cross 
 of the Redeemer and the throne of the Kinof. Our 
 Lord himself preached from a fisher's boat, and 
 called from the sea the men who were to be his 
 first disciples and apostles. Men have been using 
 the sea for their own purposes, always seeking and 
 getting. The sea, the seamen, and the ships are 
 the common benefactors of civilization and relig- 
 ion. Even now, as the summer days draw on, 
 we are looking toward the sea for renewed liealth 
 and enlarged resources of mind and heart. 
 
 It is time that we possessed and exercised a 
 more generous spirit : that we asked if we cannot 
 give where we have received so much ; if we can- 
 not respond to these good offices with our own 
 thoughtful and liberal benefactions. With this 
 thought and purpose in our minds, let us go up 
 now and look toward the sea. 
 
 Looking off from this height, what do we 
 behold? The vast expanse of waters, uniting the 
 lands which they seem to keep apart, and making 
 the lands a safe and pleasant dwelling-place for 
 
72 CAMBRIDGE SERjMONS. 
 
 men ; the seat of great nations ; tlie abode of an 
 advancing civilization. But it concerns us much 
 more to observe that there are three millions of 
 men whose dwelling is npon the sea. They are 
 separated from their families, and from the com- 
 fort and security of their homes, from the enjoy- 
 ments of friendly society, and from the ministra- 
 tions of the church. 
 
 On the other hand, they are thrown into the 
 severest hardships. Their work is hard, their peril 
 is constant. Whether upon sliip or on sliore, they 
 are in danger. Their calling and their training 
 make them an easy prey. The lifetime of the 
 sailor is twenty -eight years, and his sea life eleven 
 years. The monotonous story of shipwrecks is the 
 saddest reading of the winter months. Along 
 much of the seaboard the old prophecy scarcely 
 fails of fulfilment, that the women of Colias shall 
 roast their corn with oars. 
 
 This is for us. The sailor is the indispensable 
 man. Should he retire from service the world 
 would almost stand still. Look at the manifold 
 influence of Greece npon the world. , The book 
 which is the heart of the world's life, under whose 
 sway humanity is to attain to its renown, was 
 written by divine appointment in the language of 
 Greece. But Greece lies within the seas, its wind- 
 ing coast breaking into harbors for the ships of the 
 great sea. Greece was fitly likened to a ship, and 
 Corinth, " the city of the two seas, " was the prow 
 
LOOKING TOWARD THE SEA. 73 
 
 and stern of tlie ship. In allegory, Corinth was a 
 woman upon a rock between two otlier figures, 
 each of which held a rudder. The s^nnbol is well 
 chosen. In the history of the world the ship and 
 the sailor hold a conspicuous place. 
 
 These sailors are men like ourselves. They are 
 brave, bold, generous, impulsive, open-handed and 
 open-hearted jnen. They are the children of Our 
 Father. Our duty is their duty. Before them 
 stretch the endless years. The gospel of to-day 
 and the judgment of the great day are for them. 
 For them Christ died and rose again. They have 
 minds which can be instructed, and souls which 
 can be saved, and lives which can be set in highest 
 service. 
 
 To the fishermen of Galilee the Saviour ex- 
 tended his personal ministry. A part of his going 
 about doing good was on tlie sea. He trod its 
 waves that he might help the weary rowers when 
 tlie wind was contrar3^ He woke from his sleep 
 to still the tempest and save the affrighted men in 
 whose ship he was crossing the sea. He rescued 
 one sinking man. He filled the nets which the 
 niglit's toiling had left empty. Tlie first to hear 
 the good news which he brought, and the first to 
 tell it to the world, were sailors. The Lord liim- 
 self leads us to the sea, directs our gaze to the 
 wandering ships, bids us give to them as freely as 
 we receive from him, teaches us that we can make 
 them the messengers of his grace around the world. 
 
74 CAMBBIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 What can we do for the seamen ? We can 
 place them in good ships, properly built and 
 honestly loaded. That man has a title to royal 
 distinction who has drawn around the ship the 
 safety line which bears his name. We can give to 
 them the protection of the law, that they may be 
 fairly paid for their hazardous life, and that their 
 earnings may be safe from the hands which would 
 steal them. We can have our coast thoroughly 
 surveyed, audits perils brought to light, that ships 
 may go securely on their way. We can maintain 
 lighthouses and lightships wherever they can be 
 a warning and a guide. We can sustain our life- 
 saving service, and let it do its w^ork through all 
 the year, seeing that storm and shipwreck cannot 
 be regulated by the calendar. 
 
 We can give the sailors a home when they are 
 on shore, and a friendly hand, and a genial compan- 
 ionship, which shall make their stay pleasant and 
 safe. We can remember that to most of our 
 seamen this is a foreign land, where they should 
 receive from us the same attention which we are 
 to provide for our own men when they are abroad. 
 The sailor on shore, especially in a strange land, 
 should find waiting for him a friend, a home, a 
 church, a savings-bank, and whatever will supply 
 his varied wants. We have but to think how 
 greatly we are his debtor to be moved to repay 
 him out of the abundance of our comfort. 
 
 We can put Bibles on every ship ; a Bible for a 
 
LOOKING TOWARD THE SEA, 75 
 
 mini. It is the "book which he needs, even as we 
 need it. The godliness which it teaches is profit- 
 able for his life, as it is for our own. God and his 
 law, Christ and his redemption, the future and 
 all which it contains, should be in his thoughts, 
 and should be set there, kept there, enlarged 
 there, by the Word which is a lamp and a light 
 for men at sea and on shore. It is interesting 
 to observe how much of the imagery of the Bible 
 is drawn from the sea, and would naturally be 
 most appreciated by seamen. Our days pass 
 away as the swift ships. The virtuous woman is 
 like the merchants' ships. The true hope in God 
 is as an anchor of the soul. A man's life is 
 influenced as great ships are turned about with a 
 very small helm. " Deep calleth unto deep at 
 the noise of thy waterspouts : all thy waves and 
 thy billows are gone over me," cries the burdened 
 and hopeful Psalmist. " When thou passest 
 through the waters I will be with thee," is the 
 Lord's promise. " When the enemy shall come in 
 like a flood, the Spirit of the Lord shall lift up a 
 standard against him." " The wicked are like 
 the troubled sea, when it cannot rest." To the 
 obedient his peace shall be as a river, and his 
 righteousness as the waves of the sea. When St. 
 John was a prisoner upon a rock in the midst of 
 the sea, he saw the Son of Man in his glory, and 
 his voice was as the sound of many waters ; and 
 the new song which he heard before the throne. 
 
76 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 the song of the redeemed from the earth, was in a 
 voice "as the voice of many waters." 
 
 The hymn which so clearly expresses in melo- 
 dious form the grace of the Saviour and the trust of 
 the soul in him, among the dearest of all our 
 Christian songs, carries our thoughts at once out 
 upon the sea. It seems almost to have been writ- 
 ten for sailors — 
 
 Jesus, Lover of my soul, 
 
 Let me to tby bosom fly, 
 While the waters near me roll, 
 ' "While the tempest still is high: 
 Hide me, O my Saviour, hide. 
 
 Till the storm of life is past ; 
 Safe into the haven guide : 
 
 Oh, receive my soul at last ! 
 
 But we are able to give to the sailor other 
 books. There is scarcely a limit to our ability in 
 this direction. There are few good books which 
 are read in our homes which would not be suitable 
 on board the ship. In some respects a man has 
 the advantage of a book as a companion and 
 instructor. In other important respects the advan- 
 tage is with the book. The book has its wit and 
 wisdom in a condensed form. It is patient. It 
 will tarry the sailor's leisure, and speak whenever 
 he is disposed to listen. It will repeat its words as 
 often as it is asked. It will not crowd him in his 
 house, nor be in his way on deck. It will eat 
 none of the ship's bread and demand none of its 
 
LOOKING TOWARD THE ^EA. 77 
 
 favors. The good book will be the good friend, 
 suited to all climes, adapted to all the conditions 
 of life. Like the sea-gull it will be at home in the 
 calm, and will beat up against the gale. 
 
 This book we can furnish and ship in profusion 
 and variet3\ Books of travel and history, of geog- 
 raphy and biography, of science and art ; stories 
 wdiich are worth reading ; poetr}^ Avhich will be a 
 delight ; books wliich teach virtue and religion — 
 one and the same book which we use and prize, 
 which we buy for our homes and place in our j^ub- 
 lic libraries — these we can give to those who go 
 down to the sea in ships, away from public libra- 
 ries, and book-stores, and newspapers, with the 
 leisure of a long voyage, with the intervals 
 between the storms, with the weary days when a 
 new face, and a fresh voice, and a novel thought 
 will be welcomed and cherished. 
 
 In the work of civilization, the man and the 
 book go through the world together. We should 
 keep them together when we can. There should 
 be chaplains at all seaports. But we cannot pro- 
 vide twenty-five thousand chaplains that each of 
 our ships may be furnished. They would not be 
 received if Ave could provide the men. There is 
 no difficulty in furnishing twenty-five thousand 
 libraries, that each ship may have one. The 
 American Seaman's Friend Society, through which 
 our part of this work is to be done, has already sent 
 out more than seventy-five hundred libraries, con- 
 
78 CAMBBIBGE SERMONS. 
 
 taining more than five hundred thousand volumes. 
 It had phiced at the last report nine hundred and 
 thirty five libraries in the ships of the navy and in 
 naval hospitals, and one at each of our life-saving 
 stations. The work is as simple as it is sensible and 
 useful. I have been told that it was a woman's 
 thought, and I can readily believe it. Twenty 
 dollars sends a library to sea ; not on one voyage 
 only, but on a series of voyages. It may be 
 exchanged for another in some distant port, or 
 on the hicrh seas. It mav return to be recruited, 
 that it may again go abroad. For the price of a 
 book you or I can go on this voyage of helpfuhiess, 
 to be the sailor's companion and assistant, to cheer 
 him in his loneliness, to shield him in his peril, 
 to bind him to his home, to point him to the Fath- 
 er's house, and attend him on the upward way. It is 
 an opportunity to be heartily seized. What work 
 in which we engage promises so large a return for 
 so small an outlay ! So wide an influence with so 
 little exertion ! We can stay at home, and send 
 our line out through all the earth, and our words 
 to the end of the world. It is a magnificent 
 enterprise, simple as it is. All which commends 
 it to us as we think upon it is enhanced when we 
 see the eagerness with which these books are 
 sought, the care which they receive, the signs of 
 faithful reading which they bring back from their 
 wandering. It would be hard for a generous man 
 to look upon a returned library, to take the books 
 
LOOKING TOWARD THE SEA, 79 
 
 in his hand, to catch the aroma which is breathed 
 out from the case and the books, and not desire to 
 go upon ii voyage so easily made, and to have 
 a sailor's library for a part of his own life. 
 
 The results which have attended this unostenta- 
 tious service confirm all which has been said. The 
 testimony is abundant and continuous. Men have 
 been cheered and helped. They have been pro- 
 tected when among enemies. They have been 
 taught the way of righteousness. Mau}^ have 
 become doers of the word of life, and confessing 
 Christ as their Saviour have entered upon his ser- 
 vice with heartiness and have been efficient 
 laborers iu his name. Sailors say that in coming 
 around Cape Horn, or the Cape of Good Hope, the 
 first land they make is the North Star. On many 
 a sea and from many a ship sailors have seen the 
 Star in the East which has led them to the place 
 where the young child lay who was afterward to 
 call men from their boats into his service. 
 
 There is a special significance in the Christian 
 life of a sailor because he is a wanderer on the 
 earth. He visits many lands where he can be tho 
 living witness to the power and principle of the 
 truth which he teaches with his lips and illustrates 
 in his life. Before Paganism and its vices he can 
 show forth the better way of pure and undefiled 
 religion. Himself a missionary, he can stay up the 
 hands and strengthen the heart and enlarge the 
 success of those who have gone into strange lands 
 
80 CAMBEIBGE SEBMONS. 
 
 only that they might preach the unsearchable 
 riches of Christ who loved them, and loved all 
 men, and gave himself for the world. 
 
 For the special enterprise which we are consid- 
 ering to-day, we may draw incentive and example 
 from other work which is done for seamen. Not 
 for them alone, but for ourselves when we are 
 sharing their perils. The government erects light- 
 houses and guards them with generous care. We 
 can hold the himp of life along the shore, and out 
 on the sea, and in foreign ports, that men may 
 reach the haven which they should desire. We 
 can meet the sailor wherever he goes with the 
 light of the world. We can make him a light to 
 lighten the Gentiles. By his help we can make 
 the world bright with the glory of God, and the 
 Lamb shall be the light thereof. Our life-saving 
 service is well named, and, while it is not yet per- 
 fected, is an honor to the land. Wonderful is the 
 efficiency of its one hundred and six stations. Think 
 of two thousand lives saved in a single year, and a 
 million and a half dollars worth of property pre- 
 served. What work is grander and more humane 
 than that which is done by the hardy and resolute 
 men to whom this mercy is intrusted ? It was not 
 many months ago that men whose time was out 
 and whose pay was stopped saved thirty passengers, 
 with the sailors of the P/my, which had presumed 
 to be wrecked at the wrong season. A life-saving 
 service which shall extend its watch and its labors 
 
LOOKING TOWARD THE SEA. 81 
 
 to the souls of men, that they may not perish, but 
 have everlasting life, is demanded by humanity and 
 Christianity. It is organized. It needs more men 
 and more money for its work. It appeals to every 
 kind and noble impulse. The very luxuries on 
 our table urge us to the payment of our debt to 
 sailors. The books which we enjoy plead for lib- 
 erty to go out and bless others. The storms of 
 winter bear to our retreat the cry of the needy 
 whose hold on life is frail. He whose friends we 
 are bids us walk the sea after him, that we may do 
 good. 
 
 I am sure that you will let a sailor's son plead 
 with you in the sailors' behalf. I pray you to 
 carry them in yonr hearts, to pray for them, to 
 share with them the blessings which gladden your 
 life — the blessings which have come to you 
 through their hands. The opportunity is as invit- 
 ing as it is large. 
 
 " We are as near to heaven by sea as by land," 
 were the words of Sir Humpln^ey Gilbert as 
 his bark entered the darkness of the night, to be 
 seen no more. The way to heaven proves shorter 
 than the way by land. Heaven is near to bless 
 the wanderer with grace, to guide him witli 
 divine counsel that he may be received into 
 glory. The promises of the Lord's kingdom 
 include the sea. At last there shall be no more 
 sea : no more will it part friend from friend. It 
 will imperil no life. It will take no man into 
 
82 CAMBBIBGE SEBMONS. 
 
 its dark depths. When the graves are opened, 
 the great sepulchre will render up its dead, and 
 roll away forever. Before that day the Lord 
 will have his own. It is written, and it shall be 
 fulfilled, that the abundance of the sea shall be 
 converted unto him. Our faith and our work 
 are to be as broad as the promise. When we 
 pray and when we give, we should stand with one 
 foot on the land and one foot on the sea, sure that 
 when time shall be no more, the endless years 
 shall still be ours ; ours and theirs who are in our 
 mind and on our heart to-day. With a long vis- 
 ion, with a controlling faith, with generous pur- 
 poses, let us go up now and look toward the sea. 
 
V. 
 
 THE GOOD MERCHANT. 
 
 IN MEMORY OF MK. JAMES P. MELLEDGE. 
 
 Text : Happy is the man that findeth wisdom, and the man 
 that gctteth miderstanding. 
 
 For the merchandise of it is better than the merchandise of 
 silver, and the gain thereof than fine gold. 
 
 She is more precious than rubies : and all the things thou 
 canst desire are not to be compared unto her. 
 
 Length of days is in her right hand ; and in her left hand 
 riches and honor. 
 
 Her ways arc ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are 
 peace. 
 
 She is a tree of life to them that lay hold upon her: and 
 happy is every one that retaineth her. Proverbs iii: 13-18. 
 
 THERE luiYc been many among us who have 
 found these sayings true, and have ilhis- 
 trated their truth before men. Of these some re- 
 main, honored and trusted, serving Christ and the 
 Church, wearing meekly the homage which belongs 
 to usefulness. Others have gone from us, entering 
 into their rest, advancing in their reward, yet 
 
 83 
 
84 CAMBRIDGE SER3I0NS. 
 
 leaving with us blessed memories vvliicli we delight 
 to cherish, and a gracious influence for which we 
 give thanks at every thought of them. The life 
 of a good man is a present and permanent good. 
 It is helpful to the strong and the true. It is 
 profitable to the weak and the wavering. It gives 
 hope to the old, who are soon to intrust their work 
 to other hands. It gives wisdom to the young, 
 calling them to noble lives and quickening every 
 manly endeavor. This is especially true when 
 the life has been made up within the common 
 bounds, and out of ordinary material, so that it 
 can stand as a pattern for other lives. This is of 
 the greater service if the life has been seen day 
 by day, as deed has been joined to deed ; where 
 purpose and principle and effort and result could 
 all be observed and intelligently considered. There 
 is one thing which is evident, that the good life 
 may be lived in any part of the world, in any age, 
 with any outward estate, with any position among 
 men. It is evident, also, that it can be engaged in 
 any kind of honest work. The good man may be 
 a prophet or apostle ; he may be the minister of 
 the Church, to teach the Gospel of the grace of 
 God. He may be a lawyer, concerned with divine 
 justice and righteousness as they are to be ap- 
 plied to the affairs of men for their guidance. He 
 may be a physician, carrying the Gospel of God's 
 healing into the homes of men, that their days 
 may be prolonged in the earth. He may be a 
 
THE GOOD MEECUANT, 85 
 
 teacher opening the world of God's truth and 
 order before tlie expectant eyes which wait for the 
 revelation. He may be a nieclianic, framing the 
 wood and stone which God has made into houses 
 and ships, that households may live in comfort, 
 and climes exchange their products, and nations be- 
 come neighbors. Our thoughts add another to 
 the brief list. The good man may be a merchant. 
 He may have to do with merchandise, with buy- 
 ing and selling, with finance and economy ; stand- 
 ing between the earth and her children, in the 
 name of the Lord, to bring out the treasures of 
 tlie land and the sea, the forest and the mine, and 
 lay them at the feet of those who need them. It 
 is most appropriate to-day that in our study of a 
 good life we keep a mercliant in mind. Instructed 
 by our recollection and affection we are certain to 
 do this. AVe are glad and grateful that we can 
 do it Avith an ample confidence. Yet no sooner do 
 we seek thus to confine our thoughts than they 
 reach away beyond the name we liave chosen and 
 the life which it describes. The good man may 
 be a merchant, but he must be more. His business 
 may be upon a vast scale, but his life must be 
 more vast. He has relations and corresponding 
 duties towards his father and mother, while they 
 are here, and towards their home. If he has a 
 family of his own, he has peculiar and sacred obli- 
 gations towards tliose who bear liis name and look 
 to him for support and counsel. He has duties 
 
86 CAMBBIDGE SER3fONS. 
 
 to the community with which he is connected, 
 whose interests he must regard. Above all he must 
 remember his Creator, and give to God reverent 
 obedience and affection. He must make up a 
 Christian career, true in doctrine, just in conduct, 
 devoted in purpose, humane, charitable, beneficent. 
 
 Whatever be the special occupation by which 
 a man is known, he has these broad relationships 
 in which he must be found faithful. A good 
 life is not a point, nor is it a line. It is a circle 
 whose circumference encloses many different 
 tilings, compassing them in a regular and unbroken 
 curve. Herein lies the glory of manhood, that it 
 is large and generous ; that it is complete and right. 
 Have I said more than we have seen in the lives 
 of men ? More than one name could be written 
 underneath the picture ; one name your tender 
 thought has been speaking. 
 
 Look now more closely and more fully at some 
 of the things which properly find a place in the 
 life of a good merchant. 
 
 I. First, then, it is of great value to a man to 
 be well born. One cannot secure this for himself. 
 No man is forbidden to be great for the want of 
 it ; no man is assured of a noble life because of 
 it. Yet happy is he who possesses it. Manhood 
 descends. If character be personal, the forces 
 which make up character are in a good measure 
 inherited. It is the solemn law working grandly 
 when the inheritance is grand. It enlarges 
 
THE GOOD MERCHANT. 87 
 
 human life. It makes it possible for a man to 
 improve upon himself and to give to his sons a 
 better start than was given to him. Working 
 normally, it secures an advance by generations. 
 The father and mother may give to their child 
 disposition, taste, tendency, Avith opinions, mo- 
 tives, powers. The birthright is long in their 
 keeping as the child's guardian, that he may have 
 his own with usur}^, through their watchfulness, 
 influence, training. This is according to the 
 divine ordinance. The good parent, says an 
 old English writer, "beginneth his care for his 
 children at their birth, giving them to God to be, 
 if not his chaplains, at least his servants. This 
 care he continueth till the day of his death, in 
 their infancy, youth, and man's estate." Mani- 
 festly it is a great advantage to a boy to have 
 such parentage : to be born of those who have a 
 complete view of life and a thorough conception 
 of duty ; to begin his career in a house where 
 God is loved and served ; to be brought up from 
 his infancy in the knowledge of his other and 
 greater Father : of his commandment, his provi- 
 dence, his mercy ; and to have his spiritual nature 
 trained for the )^ears and the ages which are 
 before it. It is a great help to a boy to have for ' 
 his father an honest man ; upright, frugal, indus- 
 trious : whose days of strength are given to prof- 
 itable work, and whose riper years are hallowed 
 witli an active charity; to grow up in a house 
 
88 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 whose hospitality finds its most frequent guest in 
 a godly man, an angel entertained not unawares : 
 a disciple lodged for the Master's sake. 
 
 Be his 
 
 My special thanks, whose even-balanced soul, 
 From first youth tested up to extreme old age, 
 Business conld not make dull, nor passion wild; 
 Who saw life steadily, and saw it whole. 
 
 With such parents, in such a home, a boy may 
 be spirited, fond of adventure, full of enterprise j 
 a leader in the heroic sports of youth. He may 
 be quiet, content with home and school, marked 
 in his work and play by gentleness and courtesy. 
 Either boy may be truthful, reverent, manly, 
 and give promise of a creditable life. I have in 
 mind to-day the quiet, courteous boy ; whose 
 ardor Avas tempered with gentleness; whose 
 strength rejoiced in beauty of spirit and behavior. 
 What will the man be out of this beginning ? 
 
 II. In answering this I remark, secondly, that 
 it belongs to the good merchant to have a wise 
 choice of his calling. Not all good men are 
 suited to one method of life. One spirit may be in 
 them all, while they have diversities of gifts which 
 should find diversities of operations. It would 
 not have been strange if from the associations of his 
 boyhood this young man had chosen to be a minis- 
 ter, and doubtless he would have been wise as a 
 winner of souls. With his kind heart and care- 
 
THE GOOD MERCHANT, 89 
 
 ful hands he would probably have been a skilful 
 physician. In either profession he would have 
 found a wide field for goodness and strength. 
 
 It was most natural that he should choose his 
 father's calling: and the result has justified the 
 choice. What department of business should he 
 select? Brought up by an established mercantile 
 house, he turned from that special kind of business 
 to another which offered to the 3'oung merchant 
 an opening into a free and remunerative service. 
 He chose that for which he was fitted : therefore 
 he chose well. Yet making a wise selection of a 
 career is but one part of the good merchant's 
 choice. He must also determine what manner of 
 man he will be in his work. Some things seem 
 settled for him. According to his temperament 
 and education, he may be stirring, enterprising, 
 pushing into new countries, finding strange aven- 
 ues for trade; or he may mingle great prudence 
 with his zeal, regard new enterprises with caution, 
 and let his diligence satisfy itself in paths wliere 
 he is familiar with the way. This man was zeal- 
 ous and careful : diligent and wise. Whatever 
 his character in this respect, he has to choose in 
 what way he will regard his business ; whether it 
 sliall be for narrow or broad results ; whether it shall 
 be content with temporal or seek, also, eternal 
 reward ; whether it shall be of the earth earthy, or 
 be in its intent spiritual like himself; whether his 
 business shall be master of him, or he shall be the 
 
90 CAMBRIDGE SEBMONS. 
 
 master; whether he shall follow the maxims of 
 the world, or work under the commandment of 
 God. One may be a merchant on either plan. The 
 good merchant will elect the better plan. He 
 will dignify his business with the lofty temper 
 which he takes into it. He will make it the means 
 of his spiritual culture. He will order it after his 
 own will, under the statutes beneath which he 
 lives. Realizing how large a part of his time and 
 strength he is giving to his business, he will make 
 sure that he is not separating so much of his life 
 from its chief end and worthy method. He will 
 refuse to divide his manhood according to days 
 or places. He will be himself because in liimself 
 he is at his best. A man divided is like a house 
 divided. The best everywhere, will be his rule. 
 The merchandise of wisdom '' is better than the 
 merchandise of silver, and the gain thereof than 
 fine gold ! " Therefore he will get wisdom and not 
 sell it. He will work in " a land whose stones are 
 iron and out of wdiose hills thou mayest dig 
 silver." In his daily life, in all its common 
 concerns, he will keep his integrity, and preserve 
 the graces of his character and manners, carrying 
 *' high erected thoughts seated in the heart of 
 courtesy." I will conclude and adorn this 
 account with words written more than two hun- 
 dred years ago — " The good merchant is one who, by 
 his trading, claspeth the islands to the continent, 
 and one country to another ; an excellent gardener 
 
THE GOOD MERCHANT. 91 
 
 wlio makes England bear wine, and oil, and spices ; 
 yea, herein goes beyond nature in causing that 
 omnis fert omnia tellus. He wrongs not tlie 
 buyer in number, weight, or measure. These 
 are the landmarks of all trading, which must not 
 be removed. God is the principal clerk of the 
 market ; " all the weights of the bag are his 
 work!" Sometimes *Hhe seller's conscience is all 
 the buyer's skill." Men have a touchstone whereby 
 to try gold ; but gold is the touchstone whereby to 
 try men." And this is fitting here : " The true 
 gentleman " *' is courteous and affable to his 
 neighbors. As the sword of the best tempered 
 metal is most flexible, so the truly generous are 
 most pliant and courteous in their behavior to 
 their inferiors." Is all this true of the merchant 
 who is most in our minds ? Is it not true ? What 
 honor it is thus to have borne himself honorably, 
 trusty in his calling, faithful to himself, always 
 remembering that before he was a merchant he 
 was a man : and that when he should cease to be 
 a merchant, he would still be a man ! To hold 
 this in his thought was to make his work pros- 
 perous, and his gains lasting. This enlarges 
 courage, lengthens patience, and uplifts the life. It 
 increases and improves the man. He needs to 
 let his best assert itself. He is more than his pow- 
 ers, and more tlian his life. He is spirit. Eternal 
 years are on him. Tliis true and abiding nature, 
 the real man., wins or loses life. A man's treasure 
 
92 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 is his character. If that is rich, he is rich. He 
 is so much that he can be more ; so high that he 
 can be higher. 
 
 He can be good, and have his goodness solid and 
 round. I wish to pay this grateful tribute to the 
 men who make us all their debtors, as they keep 
 society alive, uphold government, found schools, 
 build churches, send missionaries through the 
 lands. I have revered them as boy and man, and 
 lived upon their bounty. I know how great their 
 own rules would make tliem, if they would take 
 their rules into the limitless years and along the 
 uppermost walks of life. 
 
 Still doth the soul, from its lone fastness high, 
 Upon our life a ruling effluence send ; 
 
 And when it fails, fight as we will, we die, 
 And while it lasts, we cannot wholly end. 
 
 in. This leads me to remark, thirdly, that the 
 good merchant will be good towards God. He may 
 be a merchant without this ; honest and honorable, 
 strong and wealthy. But surely these are not the 
 highest things to be said of a man. The mer- 
 chant can surpass all this. Seeing that he is 
 wrong with God, he will become right ; confessing 
 the wrong, seeking forgiveness, praying for strength 
 to do those things which are pleasing in his sight. 
 The qualities whicli make the merchant success- 
 ful in the esteem of men, if carried to their proper 
 end, will make him great in goodness. The wise 
 
THE GOOD MERCHANT. 93 
 
 merchant looks before him and as far he can. He 
 does not bound his vision by seventy days ; nor 
 does he stop at seventy years if he can see beyond 
 — and he can see beyond. Indeed, the years after 
 the threescore and ten are more certain than 
 those upon this side. He is a man of faith. He 
 confides in men, enters upon projects in which ab- 
 solute certainty is impossible ; he sends his ships 
 beyond his sight ; invests money for a future 
 return ; anticipates results and works with his 
 expectations. He should not be kept from a godly 
 life because he does not know everything about it, 
 and has never seen the Lord face to face Nor 
 should he refuse to heed the teachings of God be- 
 cause in part they concern unseen things and 
 reach into the world beyond the earth. He should 
 pass on from what he knows to what he ought to 
 know, and let his reason have free course. He is 
 an honorable man; dealing fairly by all, paying 
 that which he ought to pay, meeting men in a 
 liberal and manly spirit. The same sense of 
 honor will make him just towards God, desirous 
 to meet his duties to him, carrying himself in a 
 manful and becoming manner towards his Cre- 
 ator and his Father. It is most becoming that he 
 should be a man of God in a large and generous 
 way. The wise merchant seeks the best, or that 
 which is best for his purposes, and shrewdly 
 conducts his business with reference to the largest 
 gains. He should not stop when the gain becomes 
 
91 CxiMBBIBGE SEBMONS, 
 
 very large and the good things perfect. Religion 
 in itself, and its return, "is more precious than 
 rubies," said a man who knew something both of 
 rubies and religion ; " and all the things thou 
 canst desire are not to be compared unto her." 
 Our Lord himself sought to extend the approved 
 methods of business, and he taught men how 
 far they reach. "The kingdom of heaven is 
 like unto a merchantman seeking goodly pearls ; 
 who, when he had found one pearl of great price, 
 went and sold all that he had, and bought it." 
 The wise merchant is an economist. He does not 
 work for pleasure, but for gain. From loss he 
 turns away. Hence the question of the Gospel 
 appeals to him and impresses him ; a question 
 profound enough for him, and simple enough for 
 his office boy, " What shall it profit a man if he 
 shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul ? or 
 what shall a man give in exchange for his soul? " 
 He seeks moreover for permanence. He prides 
 himself on the stability of his business — " an old 
 established house," he likes to say. So that 
 he can appreciate the force of Christ's appeal ; 
 " Whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, and 
 doeth them, I will liken him unto a wise man, which 
 built his house upon a rock." The shrewd mer- 
 chant makes himself know^n; chooses a place 
 among men, puts up his sign, advertises his goods, 
 lets himself be recognized by buyers and sellers, 
 by producers and consumers, as one engaged in his 
 
THE GOOD MERCHANT. 95 
 
 line of trade. Hence he will approve the command 
 of Christ, that the Christian shall let his light so 
 shine before men that the light may produce the 
 best effect. He knows the advantage of associa- 
 tion for counsel and helpfulness ; he has his 
 Exchange and his Board of Trade, to which he 
 gives, from which he seeks. He sees therefore the 
 wisdom of Christ in bringing Christians together 
 in the fellowship of the Church for the furtherance 
 of the Christian design and for the advantage 
 of all. 
 
 With what force, then, does Christ address him- 
 self to the wise merchant, when he asks him to 
 extend his practical maxims and usages, and let 
 his wisdom carry him as far as it can. This mer- 
 chant who is with us to-day looked very far 
 before him ; he saw the invisible ; he cherished a 
 sense of honor which brought him to God ; he 
 strove to do his duty before him, that God might 
 be glorified ; walking with God, he sought to 
 secure the highest and most permanent gains, and 
 what he received was still the Lord's. More than 
 this, he knew his weakness, his failures, his faults. 
 In a fc-imple truthfulness he confessed his sins and 
 sought the mercy of his God. To the Lord wlio had 
 redeemed him, he gave his life. Two and thirty 
 years old, he stood before men in the Cluircli and 
 made confession of his Lord and Saviour, and 
 joined himself to others of like character and pur- 
 pose. He sought what the Church had to give. 
 
96 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 He gave what the Church sought and he had 
 to give. His piety was real ; more, it was 
 effective. It owed much of its effectiveness to the 
 fact that it was known. He opened his mouth and 
 quietly said, " I am a Christian." Therefore the 
 good which he did and the good which he was 
 became a tribute to his Lord. Men thought 
 better of Christ and the Church because he had 
 told them that he was following Christ, and they 
 saw that he was in the Church and of it. This 
 was the business man carrying his business habits 
 further on. This was the wise merchant become 
 the good merchant. 
 
 IV. I add, therefore, fourthly, that the 
 good merchant will make for himself a Chris- 
 tian life. It will be long, stretching down 
 the centuries, and it will begin here. It Avill be a 
 life of obedience. The eternal rules of righteous- 
 ness will be its law. The Lord will be its master. 
 He will realize that he has no more power over 
 right and wrong than he has over the life which 
 rustles in his grain, or the winds Avhich drive his 
 ships across the sea. He will no more tamper 
 with the laws of God than with the coin of the 
 realm. It is for him to obey. He will do this 
 cheerfully, because he knows that it is right, and 
 that the rule of Christ is the rule of the best. 
 Thus honor and honesty are secure. He will be 
 conservative towards the eternal right. Methods 
 of business may change, steam and lightning may 
 
THE GOOD MERCHANT. 97 
 
 become factors in it, its competitions may grow 
 more fierce, its demands more extortionate. But 
 in his mind truth will remain truth ; right, right ; 
 honor, honor. Novelt3Miiay play upon the surface 
 of his business ; underneath will be the old vigor- 
 ous rules of righteousness. 
 
 Thus he will have a life of purity. His con- 
 science will sit at his desk and stand by his 
 scales. His mother might be his active partner 
 and his father audit his acounts. He will be 
 orderly and accurate : intelligent and sound. 
 This will give him calmness. He may be full of 
 enterprise, but he will behave as a man who has 
 himself well in hand, and is prepared against sur- 
 prises. He will enjoy the quiet 
 
 Of toil unsevered from tranquility ; 
 Of labor, that in lasting fruit outgrows 
 Far noisier schemes, acconiplish'd in repose, 
 Too great for haste, too high for rivalry. 
 
 Such a life must be generous. It will be put to 
 the proof. Its patience will be tried, its passion 
 tested. Forbearance and charity will often be 
 needed. Broad opportunities of usefulness will 
 open on every hand. Many claimants will ask a 
 share of his gains. He will need all his discre- 
 tion. But he will know that business is not an 
 end unto itself, and that the value of money is in 
 that which can be done with it. He will give by 
 principle and with a free hand. The main course 
 
98 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 of his life will be for the common good. But 
 many subordinate interests will also be regarded. 
 He will sow his rich fields for the large harvest; 
 and from his overflowing hand some seed will fall 
 at the wayside for the birds. 
 
 Under such training, wherein he trains himself, 
 he will increase in goodness. His life will rise as it 
 lengthens. He will grow into the image of his 
 Redeemer, and his Lord, and share his life. Wis- 
 dom will endow him. For " length of days is in 
 her right hand ; and in her left hand riches and 
 honor." He will enjoy life. For " her ways are 
 ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace." 
 He will increase in strength. For " she is a tree 
 of life to all that lay hold upon her." He will be 
 received on high when he goes hence. " For 
 whosoever shall confess me before men, him will I 
 also confess before my Father whicli is in heaven." 
 Is the picture which my unskilful hand has 
 drawn, and embellished with touches from the 
 king's fingers, — is it like the man ? 
 
 Obedient, the law of the Lord was his law, 
 and the statutes of God were his song. He 
 learned obedience in his boyhood ; and with it he 
 made his manhood strong. His was the soul of 
 honor. His nature was large and his principles 
 were free, but you knew where you would find 
 him. He loved truth the better because it was 
 old, and ancestral piety was dear to him. What 
 we call conservatism, it is better in him to call 
 
THE GOOD MERCHANT. 99 
 
 truthfulness : loyalty to the right — the unaltera- 
 ble right. He was one man. He had his house, his 
 business, his society ; but lie was the same man in 
 all : the Christian gentleman. He planned a full 
 life, and went on to construct it. The centre 
 was Christ : the circle held his children, his 
 neighbors, his associates and the Church. He 
 said not over much; but what he said was with 
 power from the man behind it. He spoke often 
 enough to make men sure that he was a Christian, 
 then he went forward with Christian deeds. 
 Nature had been generous, but the man had been 
 just. There was more than nature in his calm- 
 ness and courtesy. Let us do credit to his con- 
 science and his Avill. The winds passed over him 
 as over other men, and sometimes the sea was 
 rough. Yet he went steadily on and safely. 
 There was a man in the sliip. One of our New 
 England writers has remarked, " When I see a man 
 with serene countenance, it looks like a great 
 leisure that he enjoys ; but in realit}^ he sails on 
 no summer's sea. Tliis steady sailing comes of a 
 heavy hand on the tiller," There was delibera- 
 tion in his life. He knew what he would do and 
 how he meant to do it. A calm assurance of sub- 
 stantial things made him firm and robust. The 
 results are in keeping with the design. Given such 
 purposes and principles, and the life is the natu- 
 ral consequence. He illustrates Avhat another 
 has written : " Sow an act, and you reap a liabit. 
 
100 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 Sow a IiaLit, and you rea^^ a character. Sow a 
 character, and you reap a destiny." 
 
 But the divine part of this life is its distinctive 
 feature. Once more let us assert it. This man was 
 born of God. The author of his faith and charity 
 is divine. He knew his Father. He loved him. 
 He delighted to please him. His Father delighted 
 in him and advanced him in wisdom and honor. 
 " Happy is the man that findeth wisdom, and the 
 man that getteth understanding ; " " That friend 
 of mine who lives in God." 
 
 He trusted in the grace of God. He bowed at the 
 manger with his gold and franldncense. He knelt 
 at the cross with his penitence and faith. He 
 stood at the open sepulchre with his love and his 
 life. He received the Holy Ghost, the Com- 
 forter. He walked with Christ and went pre- 
 pared unto the place prepared. Therefore while 
 we are sad, the voice from out the skies is saying, 
 'Blessed" — "Blessed are the dead which die in 
 the Lord." For they are not dead ; " they rest." 
 They have not parted from their business ; " their 
 works do follow them." We speak our loving 
 praise. We whisper our lament. We strain our 
 ej^es to look uip the glittering path and through 
 the radiant door into the brightness and blessed- 
 ness which are forever. There are glory and honor 
 and immortality. 
 
 There they stand, true men who have gone up 
 from the earth, and they are pillars in the temple 
 
THE GOOD MEBCIIANT. IQl 
 
 of God. They behold their Lord and are like 
 him, for they see him as he is. 
 
 Saints in gloiy, we together, 
 Know the song that ceases never ; 
 Song of songs, Thou art, O Saviour, 
 All that endless day. 
 
 O the unsearchable Redeemer ! 
 Shoreless Ocean, sounded never ! 
 Yesterday, to-day, forever, 
 Jesus Christ, the same ! 
 
VI. 
 WHY STAND YE GAZING? 
 
 Scripture Lesson : Revelation i. 
 
 Text: Why stand ye gazing up into heaven ? Acts i : 2. 
 
 THE answer was obvious. These men had 
 come from Jerusalem to the mount called 
 Olivet, with one who had led them all the way, 
 and who, while he was talking with them, stretched 
 his hands over them in blessing, and while he 
 blessed them, suddenly rose from the ground and 
 ascended until a cloud received him out of their 
 sight. The}' gazed after him as long as they could 
 see him ; and when he had vanished, naturally 
 their eyes remained fixed upon the cloud into 
 which he had entered. " Why stand ye gazing 
 up into heaven ? " One woukl think that the 
 angel who asked the question might have allowed 
 them a few minutes of rapturous longing as they 
 looked after him who was more than all the world 
 to them. Yet it seems, when we read the New 
 Testament, as if it were not meant that the disci- 
 ples should enjoy these rare visions. Three of 
 these men had gone up a mountain at the north, 
 
 102 
 
WIIV STAND YE GAZING? 103 
 
 led by the same One, and a glory exceeding bright 
 had shone around about him, and there had come 
 two men in the glory to talk with him. The dis- 
 ciples at last were brought to the very gate of 
 heaven. It was worth while to be a disciple if 
 this could be the reward. While they looked and 
 enjoyed, and desired that they might build three 
 tents and remain there, suddenly a cloud shut out 
 the whole vision from their gaze ; they heard a 
 voice speaking out of the cloud ; they fell upon 
 their faces afraid, and presently they were led 
 down out of the brightness into the darkness and 
 misery of the world. Does it mean that God will 
 not let us see the glory before the time ? Does it 
 mean that heaven is fearful lest we should have 
 too much of its delight while we possess the earth 
 which is now our dwelling-place ? 
 
 Angels hold men to their place and work. When 
 the women come to anoint the Lord with spices 
 and embalm him with the last act of their devotion 
 for his long slumber, looking forward out of the 
 sorrow of the night to the few moments which 
 they might have with him in the sacred solitude 
 of the garden, before they began the holy offices 
 which they were to perform, angels interrupted the 
 course of their loving thoughts — " Why seek ye 
 the living among the dead? Go quickl}-, and tell 
 his disciples that he is risen from the dead." 
 Truly, there were surrounding the friends of our 
 Lord the guardian angels of God's presence, 
 
104 CAMBEIBGE SEBMONS. 
 
 coming to tliem from time to time to help tliem, 
 certainly coming to them when there was much 
 danger that they would be unduly exalted and 
 forget that they belonged in this world, that their 
 life was here, that they were to look down into 
 the wants of the world, and to do the work which 
 God had given them. Perhaps we find in this 
 coming, more than anywhere else, the meaning of 
 that phrase which is so familiar to our thoughts 
 and so precious in our hopes, " ministering spirits/' 
 
 When these men come down from the Mount, 
 they are not the men who went up. Thej^ are not 
 so rich, it may be said, for they have lost their 
 great teacher, their leader, their master. They 
 are richer, it were better to say, because he who was 
 their Lord has gone up on high, and has taken to 
 himself his greater power. Life never can be the 
 same to them again, because one who is their life 
 has gone to his own place, a place full of blessed- 
 ness and of life. To have one's best friend in 
 heaven sanctifies the earth. To have one's Lord 
 at the throne makes it easier to obey here. To 
 have the Intercessor there makes it easier to pray 
 here. To have one there who is able to give the 
 Comforter to men makes it easier to bear the 
 trouble of this life, and to strengthen ourselves for 
 the service which is required at our hands. 
 
 These disciples needed to be instructed in the 
 meaning of the ascension of the Lord. "Why 
 stand ye gazing " recalled them to the true sig- 
 
WHY STAND YE GAZING f 105 
 
 nificance of this act which consummates our Lord's 
 earthl}' life. It was tlie gaze of Avoiider ; they 
 were surprised tliat he had gone up. Let them 
 remember that he had just said, '' I am to ascend." 
 " I ascend unto my Father and your Father, and 
 to my God and your God." It was the look of 
 bereavement; yet it need not have been. Rather 
 it should have been one of gladness to find that 
 Christ had gone out of his humiliation into his 
 glory. They should have recalled his word of 
 promise, that he would be with his disciples, even 
 unto the end of the world ; and that other word, 
 tliat he would give the Hol}^ Spirit to abide with 
 men even while they were in this world. It was 
 a look of longing ; they wanted him back again. 
 There was that strange confusion of faith and 
 desire which is so common; which makes us long 
 with a longing that cannot be expressed for the 
 presence, for the voice, of those who have gone 
 out of our sight ; yet makes us give thanks every 
 morning and night for the rest and the bliss which 
 have come to them. The desire of these disciples 
 changes into confidence when they recall the 
 promise of the Lord as it is repeated by the angel : 
 '-'• This same Jesus which is taken up from you 
 into heaven, shall so come in like manner as ye 
 have seen him go into heaven." 
 
 This would almost seem a reason why the men 
 should stand gazing up into heaven, watching for 
 his return. What is the reason, then, of this inter- 
 
106 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 ruptioii ? Why are they not alloAved to look up 
 into the place out of which their Lord shall pres- 
 ently come ? Because the Lord is not to come 
 presently. One da}^ is as a thousand years with 
 him, and a thousand years are as one day. They 
 are not able to stand waiting and looking until 
 he shall come. Phj^sical necessities, the very 
 weariness of their bodies, the very hunger which 
 would oppress them, must soon draw their gaze 
 down from the clouds and send them back into 
 the world. They are not able to stay upon the 
 mountain ; let them come down, not of necessity, 
 but of their own will. 
 
 Again, they are not to stand gazing up into 
 heaven, because the work which they are to do 
 lies not in heaven, but below them, in the world. 
 These facts which have entered into their experi- 
 ence have been given that they might become the 
 possession of the world. It is interesting to see 
 how often the smallest causes which work in our 
 life move hand in hand with the greatest causes 
 and the highest obligations which enter into our 
 career. Common hunger and vulgar weariness 
 would send men from the mountain into the world, 
 and the command of Christ, with the grandest 
 commission ever given to men, would have the 
 same result. It recalls to mind, although it is not 
 strictly analogous, that it was out of the necessi- 
 ties of men that Christ wrought his great works of 
 mercy. He fed the multitudes by divine power 
 
WHY STAND YE GAZING? 107 
 
 because they were hungry ; and tlie need of men 
 as really worked for their relief as the power of 
 God. He raised men from the dead because they 
 were dead ; and the death of men becanie one of 
 the forces as really as the power which called them 
 from their long sleep. So here, the common duties 
 and wants of men, which would carry them back 
 into the world in which they belonged, would 
 work together with that command of Christ which 
 was their commission and the warrant of their 
 discipleship. 
 
 The sight of their ascending Lord would 
 strengthen his disciples for their work, his work. 
 It has been often seen that, when God has called 
 men to great service, he has given them a vision 
 of himself and let them hear his voice. He spoke 
 to ]Moses out of tlie bush, and to Paul at the gate of 
 Damascus. He has given men a sight of his glory, 
 that they might glorify the world with the special 
 revelation which had been made to them. 
 
 Let us mark, then, the order of service ; for it is 
 of importance that we preserve it. We look upon 
 the disciples as exceptional men, with an excep- 
 tional work. We scarcely dare to think of their 
 work or experience as like our own. They had 
 marvellous revelations, and a remarkable furnish- 
 ing. But they received power in connection with 
 certain grand facts which were to be the strength 
 of their lives. Li this how far below them do we 
 stand? For we have the same facts and the same 
 
108 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 Holy Spirit. It is to be noted that mucli of the 
 strength with which Christ furnishes men is the 
 power of external facts, with which they have 
 nothing to do as causing them, or deserving them, 
 or expecting them ; but certain great verities 
 which are wrought out by God, and which they 
 are to take, and by means of them make their will, 
 their conscience, and their life strong and efficient. 
 Thus, if you take this fact of our Lord's ascension, 
 it becomes a power in these men's lives, because 
 they think of the glory of him who has gone ; and 
 it gives a wonderful authority to his words ; it gives 
 a new force to the love which they have for him. 
 Everything which he did is magnified before them 
 by this glory, which sheds its brightness upon his 
 whole life. For Ave join with this all our Lord's 
 life. His ascension is simply one in a series of 
 facts. It does not seem the most important ; yet 
 it is important as belonging to a system of events, 
 beginning with the incarnation, running through 
 the display of his divine power in miracle, and 
 quite as much in his instruction and promise, in- 
 cluding the height and depth of divine grace when 
 he gave himself in sacrifice and entered the sepul- 
 chre, to come forth in power when he burst the 
 bands of death and the grave, and stood alive 
 among men ; taking ns at last to the Mount of 
 Olives, when he rises into the clouds of heaven. 
 
 These are not things which we have done, or 
 which God accomplishes within our heart ; they 
 
WHY STAND YE GAZING? 109 
 
 are things which God works outside of us — out of 
 doors, if I may say so — things which we are to look 
 upon and to take as the material out of which we 
 are to build up our thought and life. It is to be 
 to us a verity that Christ rose from the dead, and 
 that verity is to control our life ; it is to become a 
 part of our mind, and of our moral faculties ; it is 
 to enter into our reason ; it is to touch our hands, 
 and our feet, and our lips ; and we are to be differ- 
 ent in the commonest things which we do, from the 
 fact that Christ died for us and rose from the 
 dead. 
 
 In this way God instructs men. For the work 
 of the disciples, it may not seem to be essential that 
 they should see Christ mount into the clouds of 
 heaven. But it was essential that they should see 
 him, and that ail the fabric of their thought and 
 life should be affected by that fact. They might, 
 indeed, repeat the story of Christ's life ; they miglit 
 tell of his miracles ; they might renew his teachings 
 among men ; they might be honest and truthful, 
 and fill up the measure of a good man's career in 
 the world ; but tiie life which tliey were to live, 
 the work wliich they were to do, tliey could not 
 live and they could not do, except as these facts 
 entered into tlieir thoughts, and were absorbed into 
 their feeling, that Clirist had ascended into his 
 glory; that Clirist had risen from tlie dead; tliat 
 Christ had died for them ; that Christ had become 
 incarnate for them. It is impossible that these 
 
110 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 things should become a part of the staple of any 
 man's life, and the whole life not be affected, and 
 elevated, and the man strengthened to live by the 
 power of these divine truths. 
 
 This was the method of our Lord's instruction 
 to men. Certainly so much as this was true, that 
 he was not satisfied to teach them merely with the 
 word of his lips or by an inspiration in their 
 minds. He taught them, as he teaches you and 
 me, by events. Hence he let them behold his 
 incarnation; he let them see divine power raising 
 the dead; he let them see him coming forth out 
 of the sepulchre alive ; he let them, with their 
 own eyes, see him ascend into the clouds of 
 heaven ; that, taking these things, they might out 
 of them learn who he was and why he was here, 
 and what it was to be his disciples, and what the 
 gift was which he gave to them and which through 
 them he was to give to the world. 
 
 We stand related to these facts precisely as the 
 disciples stood. We stand in the same place. 
 We stand in that interval of God's providence 
 which has not been closed since the day of Christ's 
 ascension ; that period which was often described 
 by our Lord, and in many different ways, as the 
 time between his vanishing from the world and his 
 returning to the world ; an interval wherein we 
 are to take these things of Christ and to use them 
 for the world's good. The question which the 
 angels asked of the disciples on the mount of the 
 
WHY STAND YE GAZING? HI 
 
 Ascension, and which I liave brought to your 
 notice this morning, reminds us that it is not 
 enough for any man to gaze at these facts ; it is 
 not enough for us to believe them, to think about 
 them, to enjoy them. It is not enough in our 
 common work for a man to gaze at his store, to 
 gaze at the opportunities which are before him, at 
 the books wdiich he might read, and the world 
 which he might study, and the duties which he 
 might perform. All this comes to nothing, and 
 we weary of the dreamers, the visionary men who 
 have a great prospect of something to which they 
 never attain, and who, stirred by vain hopes, are 
 unwilling to put their hands to the common things 
 which lie at tlieir feet. We say to a man — and 
 how often and how truly we say it — you will 
 never do the distant thing until yoii do the near; 
 you never will attain unto the upper glory unless 
 you are willing to stand here upon tliis common 
 rough,and rugged earth, and do the first duty, and 
 on that first duty mount to something higher. 
 Gazing at duty and dreaming and singing and 
 hoping and believing, all come to nothing, unless 
 one puts his hand to the work and takes up, in 
 substantial earnest, that which God has given him 
 to do. There come times in life when success 
 depends not onl}^ upon the recognition of this 
 principle, but upon the speedy apprehension of it. 
 There are men who work out their success — and 
 perhaps all men work out their success in this way 
 
112 CA2IBRIDGE SEBMONS. 
 
 who have it at all — by a certain ability, which is 
 almost genius, to recognize the right thing to do ; 
 the facts which they are to take into their life ; and 
 then quickly to take them up. I almost think jon 
 could describe the difference between a successful 
 man and an unsuccessful man at that single point. 
 The successful man is a man who does not gaze, 
 but who does. Still, that does not quite closely 
 enough define him. I should say that the success- 
 ful man is a man who not only does, but does 
 quickly. He makes up his mind readily ; and 
 having once made it up, he cleaves to his purpose, 
 not gazing back, wishing he had made another 
 choice, but keeping to that which he has made 
 with a certain dogged perseverance which fastens 
 the whole force of his hands and of his heart upon 
 his work, and leaves him no leisure for idle dream- 
 ing or useless regrets. 
 
 One of the shrewdest business men I ever knew 
 told me that when a transaction had passed out of 
 his hands, though it might appear that he liad lost 
 by the method in which he had made it, he never 
 mourned over it, or wished that he had waited 
 another day ; he simply accepted it as a fact behind 
 him which it was of no profit for him to gaze upon, 
 and went on to make up in to-da}^ and to-morrow 
 for the losses of yesterday. It is a wise principle, 
 not to gaze backwards and wish we had done 
 something else, not to gaze forward and wish we 
 had something else, but to put ourselves in this 
 
WHY STAND YE GAZING? 113 
 
 interval where we stand to the doing of that which 
 is our present duty. 
 
 The present duty of men is to do the will of God ; 
 and the will of God comes to us, not in a voice out 
 of heaven merely ; not in a voice from our own 
 hearts merely ; but the will of God comes to us in 
 resounding syllables which every man can read. 
 You can make out the letters one by one until you 
 have the word ; and these are the letters of the 
 will of God which men are to hear and which men 
 are to do to-day : " Incarnation," '' Life," '' Death," 
 " Resurrection," " Ascension ; " and these letters 
 spell out the divine thought and the everlasting 
 purpose of every truly successful man. But it will 
 not serve us to gaze at these things ; to wonder 
 at the glories of the manger and where it was ; to 
 cross the seas that we may place our devotion in 
 the sepulchre which we cannot find. But we are 
 to take the facts and to do our business in the 
 power of them ; to carry the resurrection of Christ 
 into our daily work ; to take the ascension of 
 Christ down into our studying and housekeeping, 
 and all which engages our life, until we make up our 
 thoughts and our purposes with these stupendous 
 and divine factors which are the everlastincr veri- 
 ties. 
 
 No man has made himself strong for his work 
 who has not looked up into the heavens ; and no 
 man has looked up into the heavens to much pur- 
 pose who has not come down from his gazing to 
 
114 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 his work in this world. We are permitted to see 
 the risen Christ and to believe in him; and then, 
 believing him, to follow him. 
 
 If you read the Lord's parables, you will find 
 that again and- again he refers to this interval in 
 which we are living. Look, for instance, at his 
 parable of the talents, or the parable of the pounds. 
 A certain man takes his money and calls his ser- 
 vants, and talks with them concerning it ; he puts 
 the money into their hands, and goes into a far 
 country to return. They know he is to return ; 
 they understand that his money is to be used. 
 Perhaps they watch his receding form, and stare 
 after him when lie is lost to sight. They wonder 
 where he has gone, and when he will come back, 
 and they go home to talk about his goodness and 
 kindness, and they turn the money over and over. 
 Presently they begin to sing songs to this absent 
 friend ; to praise him, the most generous of all men. 
 One man, finally, taking liis pound which is so 
 precious, wraps it in a napkin that no harm may 
 come to it, and that it may be ready when the 
 Lord shall return. Another, fearful of such secu- 
 rity, digs a hole in the ground and buries his 
 money, that it may be safe when the Lord comes 
 back. Is that the way to watch for the coming of 
 the Lord ? Is that the meaning of this trust of 
 talents and of jDOunds ? 
 
 But what are the talents and the pounds? The 
 opportunities of life, the privileges of life; our 
 
WHY STAND YE GAZING? 115 
 
 time and our ability. Yes, but there are other 
 treasures. The real talents and the real pounds 
 are these : The incarnation of God ; the crucifixion 
 of Christ ; the resurrection of Christ ; the ascension 
 of Christ ; the coming of the Holy Ghost to take of 
 the things of Christ and show them unto us. 
 These are talents and pounds which we are to use 
 until the Lord comes back to reckon with us. 
 Have we nothing to show him in that day but a 
 little more character which we have gained, a little 
 more influence we have acquired ? He may well 
 ask, '' What have you done with my resurrection? 
 Is that truth larger by that which you have done 
 Avitli it? Show me where my resurrection has 
 gone down into your study and pervaded it. Show 
 me where my ascension has entered into your 
 thoughts and borne them up to higher and holier 
 things." 
 
 So it was when the lord planted a vineyard and 
 let it out to liusbandmen, and went his way into a 
 far country to receive for himself a kingdom and 
 to return. It was a fine vineyard. He had built 
 a tower in it, and a wine-press ; he had prepared 
 everything for the vintage. Then he went liis 
 way. Tiiere were the husbandmen with liis inter- 
 ests in their charge. Had they nothing to do but 
 to walk to and fro and see what a beautiful vine- 
 yard it was ; to comment upon the architecture of 
 the tower and the nature of its foundation ; to 
 form elaborate calculations how long it would last, 
 
116 CA2I BRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 and how many men would probabl}" be killed if it 
 should fall? To speculate upon the prospect of 
 fruitage if the men did nothing but trust to the 
 sun and rain ? Is that the way in which the hus- 
 bandmen are to use the vineyard ? They do so, I 
 know. Such a method has higli practical commen- 
 dation. There are many men who seem to be 
 doing nothing in God's vinej^ard except to admire 
 it and to theorize upon it. Surel}', the wise hus- 
 bandmen are those who use the grounds, enlarge 
 the quantity of the grapes, and bring forth the 
 wine in its season. This is the preparation for the 
 owner ; not the gazing, but the doing. What is 
 the vineyard to-day? What is it we are to do? 
 We are to be more prudent and industrious ; we 
 are to study harder ; we are to elevate our thought, 
 and to be more rational and conscientious — cer- 
 tainly we are to do these things. But will men 
 bring forth the abounding fruits of the vineyard 
 by that process? Nay; the powers by which w^e 
 are to do the work in the vinej^ard until the Lord 
 comes, are such truths as I have named: Christ's 
 life among men ; Christ's redemption of men ; his 
 resurrection and his ascension. If we work these 
 into our thoughts, and into our motives, and into 
 our lives, by and by the heavy clusters shall hang 
 upon the vine, and the Lord of the vineyard 
 returning, shall greet us with his "good and faith- 
 ful." 
 
 I want to present this to you to-day, and to my 
 
WHY tiTANB YE GAZING f WJ 
 
 own heart, as a lesson of encouragement. Life is 
 too liarcl for any man to make it harder tlian is 
 necessary ; and the duties which are upon us are 
 too exacting for any man to try to do them with 
 insufficient strength and imperfect appliances. 
 We are not asked to make up a Christian life in 
 our own strength, or in the strength of the Church. 
 God is better than that. lie gives us the very 
 presence of himself in the world, that we may be 
 Christians ; he gives us the very redemption of 
 his Son ; he grants us the resurrection of his Son 
 and his ascension — the divinest powers which ever 
 wrought in the universe, so far as we have any 
 knowledge — to the end that we may be God's 
 children, and may do the work of God. I pray 
 3-0 u to see, that as long as we stand gazing at 
 these things they do us very little good. There 
 are, I suppose, men who make a merit of believing 
 that Christ rose from the dead : they might as 
 well make a merit of believing in the transit of 
 Venus. It is of small consequence whether you 
 believe that Christ rose from the dead or not, 
 unless you take that fact down into your heart; 
 take it into your will and make your will stronger 
 by it ; take it into your life and live by it from 
 day to day. It is only as the resurrection becomes 
 a power within our own power that it works out 
 within us the peaceable fruits of God's purposes in 
 man's righteousness. 
 
 This is what the world needs of us, brethren. 
 
118 CA3IB RIDGE SEIiMONS. 
 
 It is what we need, first of all, to receive these 
 truths into onr own thought and life, penitently, 
 humbly, obediently ; to receive the risen and 
 ascended Christ as our Lord and our Saviour; 
 to take strong and personal hold upon the divine 
 and everlasting verities of his life, and then in 
 the power of them, to go forth and do our work. 
 I say this is what the world wants at our hands. 
 So far as I can see, it is almost the only thing 
 the world needs very much. I fail to see any- 
 thing that the world wants to-day, which is any 
 great necessity compared with its need of these 
 truths which God gave to men that they might 
 be God's men. You can give the world the bene- 
 fit of your study ; you can add the result of your 
 invention and discovery; you can give your 
 industry and the service of your daily life ; and 
 undoubtedly all that would do good. But there 
 are many men doing the same thing, and there 
 always will be. The world is not very poor 
 from lack of learning to-day ; nor from lack of 
 mechanics, and merchants, and professional men of 
 all kinds. It is not a very great gift to the world 
 when one gives to it another commonplace and 
 earthly life. The great thing the world wants, 
 again, is not a change in our mechanism ; new 
 appliances, new organizations in the Church and 
 in society; new methods which shall be filled with 
 more energy. I grant that all these things may 
 do good — I would not underrate them ; but they 
 
WUY STAND YE GAZING? 119 
 
 never can do the grand work. The world can roll 
 on quite well without them. The great thing the 
 world wants to-day is the resurrection of Christ as 
 a power in our streets, in our homes, and in all 
 our work. It needs the glory of the ascension 
 of Christ, until men trade with a bright cloud 
 over their heads. We are to bear the troubles of 
 life and indulge in its hopes, and live and die, car- 
 ried up and carried forward on the wings of these 
 grand realities, saying, "I have a Saviour, I have 
 a Lord, who bears me on his heart before the 
 throne of God; who is my keeper, my shepherd, 
 and who presently, in an hour when I may not 
 think of it, shall come to ask what I have done 
 with the talent of the Resurrection, with the 
 poundof the Ascension; what I have done in the 
 vineyard which he planted with a cross." 
 
 Brethren, if I speak of what the world wants, 
 may I not speak also of what heaven wants? 
 Heaven seems to need such men as Christ would 
 make. It is a mistake to suppose that heaven 
 needs to be peopled. We cannot count the mul- 
 titudes of it. Heaven needs but one thing:: it 
 needs those who are prepared for it. Heaven 
 must be inhabited by men within whom there is 
 incarnate the ascension of Clirist ; who have made 
 up their lives around the truth that Christ died 
 for them and rose and ascended ; a truth which in 
 the hands of the Holy Spirit takes away sin and 
 breaks the power of tlie world, and renews and 
 
120 CAMBRIDGE SEB^dOXS. 
 
 sanctifies and glorifies the heart. We overesti- 
 mate ourselves if we think heaven will be impov- 
 erished without us. Still heaven wants us, and at 
 our best ; and no man is at his best until he has 
 made up his character with the divine truths. 
 
 These things come to us in this world where we 
 have need of them. It doubtless is true that we need 
 them here as much as anywhere. It is in this world 
 that these things have been wrought out, and that 
 means that it is in this world they are to be used. 
 Christ did not rise and ascend in heaven ; he rose 
 and ascended here. They make an earthly fact, an 
 every-day truth. They furnish one of the com- 
 monplaces of God's government for this common- 
 place world. Let us take the facts here ; then let 
 us consent to the discipline of the world while 
 they come to help us ; to be a part of our training 
 in patience, in charity, in faith, in all devotion. I 
 know it seems hard to wait for the glory of the 
 Lord; but the marble may well be content to tarry 
 in the studio of the sculptor until he has touched 
 it again and again ; and the statue will be willing to 
 wait, if it knows that presently the last rough and the 
 final tender touch shall be given, and after that — 
 not always kept under the chisel and the hammer; 
 not always in this rude workshop, with the broken 
 stone and scattered dust upon the floor ; not always 
 waiting among these masks and models — pres- 
 ently it shall stand out in its place of honor, 
 where men shall look up to catch the thought that 
 
WHY STAXD YE GAZING ? 121 
 
 is incarnate in the marble, and the lips shall speak 
 and the face shall reflect the thought of Him out 
 of whom the creation has sprung ; a living thought 
 for a world that needs to be made alive. 
 
 Why stand we gazing into heaven? Let us 
 take the truths of heaven and go down and live 
 them out. The Lord is gone, but he is liere. It 
 is not the repeating of his name, it is the doing 
 of his will which is to avail. He is here ; not 
 in the far country alone, but watching us here. 
 When McGregor led his clan into the battle of 
 Prestonpans, and the chief was wounded and fell 
 bleeding upon the ground, his men, dismaj'ed and 
 disheartened, began to waver, until the wounded 
 chieftain, raising himself upon his elbow, while the 
 blood flowed from his wounds, cried out, " I am 
 not dead, my children ; I am looking at you, to see 
 5'-ou do your duty." They rallied and rushed on 
 to that whereunto he had called them to the field. 
 Christ lives. He is here ; he is looking at us. 
 He is here, not to be met with our wondering eyes, 
 but with our obedient life. " Blessed is that ser- 
 vant whom his Lord, when he cometh, shall find so 
 doing." " He that doeth the will of God abideth 
 forever." 
 
 If any man will serve, 
 
 Then let him foUovv' me ; 
 For where T am, be thou right sure. 
 There shall my servant be. 
 
VII. 
 NOT BY MIGHT, BUT BY SPIRIT. 
 
 SciiiPTURE Lesson : 1 Cor. ii. 
 
 Text : Not by might nor by power, but by my spirit, salth 
 the Lord of hosts. Zech. iv : 6. 
 
 THIS was one of the instances in which might 
 and power, that is, a control by force, would 
 be thought to have its place. It was a question 
 between two nations, two peoples. The Jews had 
 been trying for a long time to rebuild their temple. 
 They had been carried into captivity. To gain 
 the right to rebuild the temple would be the occa- 
 sion for revolt. Let them conquer their oppressors, 
 go back to their own country, and raise again the 
 house which had been destro3''ed. But the record 
 of the rebuilding is this : " The Lord stirred up 
 the spirit of Cyrus." Cyrus was a Pagan and 
 cared nothing for the temple ; but the Lord stirred 
 up his spirit to incite the Jews to build their house, 
 and the}' began it. Then came those long periods 
 of opposition, when Ahasuerus and Artaxerxes 
 occupied the throne of Persia, and the Samaritans 
 were continually hindering these temple-builders. 
 
 122 
 
NOT BY MIGHT, BUT BY SPIBIT. 123 
 
 That was a time for them to rise against the 
 Samaritans ; it was a time for God to make bare 
 his arm, as he liad done against Pharaoh and liis 
 host. Instead of that, the Lord pnt it into the 
 heart of Darius, the king, to search the records of 
 the kingdom, where he found the okl decree wliich 
 God had inclined Cyrus to make. Renewing that 
 decree, he rebuked the Samaritans, and required 
 them to aid those whom they had been opposing. 
 The temple rose to its completion, not by the 
 might of arms, not by the power of revolution, but 
 " by my spirit, saith the Lord of hosts." It 
 became, then, in the highest sense, a house that was 
 not made with hands. 
 
 This is to be accepted as God's ordinary way of 
 w^orking in the world. He does exercise power ; 
 he does come witli judgment ; he does put forth 
 his omnipotent force and control men and nations ; 
 but his common way is quiet and gentle, in the 
 hearts of men ; and when he uses more violent 
 and evident methods, in tliem and after them may 
 be found this silent working of his spirit. The 
 wind rends the mountains and breaks the rocks in 
 pieces; the earthquake makes the hills tremble; 
 the fire flashes from cliff to cliff, and lights the deep 
 gorges ; but God is not in wind, or earthquake, or 
 fire. He comes ^' not by might, nor by power." 
 But there is '' after the fire a still, small voice." 
 
 This method of God's working commends itself 
 to us. It is more majestic ; it is grander. The 
 
124 CAMBIUDGE SERMONS, 
 
 great forces of God work quietly, as in light and 
 life. It is more rational ; it is the recognition of 
 God's spiritual nature and of man's, and of that 
 liberty which God has given to man so that he is 
 not to be compelled, but to be persuaded. It is 
 direct; for it goes to the seat of man's thoughts 
 and actions. It is more lasting, for what is done 
 upon a man in the way of outward act, controlling 
 his conduct, will be much less permanent than 
 that which is done in his character, sinking down 
 into his will and wish and purpose, where it is likely 
 to abide. As we come to measure the methods of 
 men and to arrange the ways of our own working 
 in the world, we find, as we see when we look upon 
 the course of God's providence, that the great 
 forces are those which work quietly and spiritually, 
 and not the ph3'sical and material forces. Thus it 
 is with us personally. The men who influence us 
 most are not those who try to drive us to do their 
 will. We always resist, by virtue of all that 
 makes us men, when any one tries to compel us. 
 One can do almost what he will with us, except 
 force us into a way in which we do not wish to 
 walk. By his spirit, by his reasoning, by his per- 
 suasion, by the force of his example, by the sweet 
 benignity of his character and presence, he can 
 win us to himself. So, when we go out to work 
 upon others, we come back disappointed and vexed 
 if we have tried to force a man ; but we often 
 have success when we try to win him. The old 
 
NOT BY MIGHT, BUT BY SPIRIT. 125 
 
 fable is true pliilosophy ; it is not the Avind, it is 
 the sun which brings the traveller to its OAvn terms. 
 In the family, in tlie school, and even in the care 
 of the criminal and the insane, we find still that 
 with the passing away of that which is violent, and 
 the bringing in of gentler methods, Ave are caring 
 for children and men in a better way. It is so 
 when Ave look abroad upon those who go out into 
 the earth and gain poAver over savages and bar- 
 barians. Livingstone drew men to himself by his 
 gentleness and kindness, and he became a father 
 to them. This is the great force of history. The 
 history of our oAvn land is Avritten in a single Averse 
 by one of our poets : 
 
 The voice of the Lord by night 
 
 To the "vvatcliing pilgrims came, 
 As tliey sat by the seaside, 
 And filled their hearts with flame. 
 
 Whatever may be done by the great movements 
 of armies and nations, the moving force underneath 
 these has been this mighty AA^orking of God's spirit 
 through the human Avill. 
 
 Often among men it has been the gentlest, most 
 quiet ministrations Avhich have produced the greatest 
 results. When Edward had starved Calais into 
 surrender, and held the city Avhich he had so long 
 besieged, it was in his poAver to destroy it ; but 
 the people preserved their city and preserved their 
 lives, ''not by might." He said that he Avould 
 
126 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 spare the city if six of the citizens would give 
 themselves into his hands ; and six of the leading 
 men came out, stripped of their raiment, every 
 man with a halter about his neck. They bore the 
 keys of the city ; they threw themselves at the 
 king's feet ; they gave themselves unreservedly 
 into his hands, and asked for his mercy. They 
 were answered with a call for the executioner. 
 There were his knights, and there was the great 
 army, but they had no power over him. He was 
 the monarch, and all power was with him. Then 
 Philippa knelt at his feet and cried, " Ah, gentle 
 sire, now pray I, and beseech you, with folded 
 hands, for the love of our Ladj^'s son to have mercy 
 upon them ! " 
 
 And the king answered, " Lady, I would rather 
 you had been otherwhere. You pray so tenderly 
 that I dare not refuse you; and though I do it 
 against my will, I give them to you." So the lives 
 of the men were spared, the peace of the city was 
 saved, and the honor of the king and the English 
 people was preserved; "Not by might, nor by 
 power," but by the spirit of a woman's prayer. 
 
 Or if we look upon the rulers of the world, in 
 the various departments of life, we find the same 
 principle at work. Great armies do not of them- 
 selves win the victory. It is the silent counsel 
 of the men at the head of the army. Great 
 statesmen are not by their open deeds controlling 
 men ; it is more by the thought wrought out in 
 
NOT BY MIGHT, BUT BY SPIRIT. 127 
 
 their chambers. Great artists are not artists by 
 force of physical power, but by a certain spiritual 
 clmracter which belongs to them, Avhich never can 
 be imitated, and into which no training can ever 
 bring a man. An English painter said, '* I mix 
 my paint with brains." Guido said of Rubens, 
 "He mixes his paint with blood." Surely it is 
 this genius which, Avorking within a man, makes 
 him able to control others through that which 
 he does before their eyes. 
 
 Again the force which works in woman, which 
 gives her that marvellous influence which is 
 scarcely second to anything in the world to-day, 
 is a force which is not gained by noise or by 
 pushing forward into prominence. But in her 
 own place, with her voice, with her example, with 
 her training of children, with all that is beautiful 
 and strong in her character, she gains control of 
 the thought and method of those whose work is 
 more manifest and more resounding through the 
 world. The whole march of civilization is upon 
 this line. Every gain we make is a gain of 
 spiritual over material force. It is the putting 
 away of armies, the forces of war ; it is the with- 
 holding of physical control ; it is bringing out 
 reason, conscience, and those immaterial and 
 invisible forces which have their seat in the heart 
 of man, and have tlie field of their working in the 
 hearts of other men. As civilization goes on from 
 this immature state towards its completion, more 
 
128 CAMBBILGE SERMONS. 
 
 and more shall we find the working not of might, 
 nor power, but of spiritual energy, of spiritual 
 influence over the hearts of men. 
 
 If this be so within this little domain of ours, 
 where we have this influence one over another, 
 still more is it true when we reach out into the 
 eternal working of God and seek to find in what 
 way he will bring his own purposes to pass. It is 
 not by great, astounding works — b}^ the thunder 
 of his voice, by the roar of his tempests, by the 
 flashing of his lightning — that God seeks to con- 
 trol men. It is by the Virgin's child, born in a 
 little village, in an obscure province, the spirit of 
 whose life is, " He shall not strive nor cry ; 
 neither shall any man hear his voice in the streets ; " 
 who is ordained for his ministry by the descent of 
 a dove upon him, and who finds his work in the 
 world when John the Baptist, with his loud voice, 
 has receded ; when he baptizes men not with the 
 water of the Jordan, which they could see, and 
 whose flowing, falling drops they could watch, but 
 with the Spirit of the living God in their hearts. 
 Even this is not to be continued. This visible 
 presence must be withdrawn. St. Paul says, 
 "Though I have known Christ after the flesh, yet 
 now henceforth know I him no more." He would 
 not know any one whom he could see ; he would not 
 hear any one whose voice fell upon his ear. Only 
 spiritual vision should control him ; only spiritual 
 utterances sliould guide him ; for there had come, 
 
NOT BY MIGHT, BUT BY SPIRIT. 129 
 
 when the Christ had vanished from the earth, as it 
 was expedient that he shonld do, the reign of the 
 Spirit, the Holy Spirit, who should, because he 
 is Spirit, control the spirits of men who control 
 themselves and who govern the world. 
 
 Hence when we come to this spiritual era we 
 come into an advance, a sudden and marked 
 advance, of this spiritual, unseen agency. That 
 day which stands out from all the days of Pente- 
 cost as the Day of Pentecost is not thus distin- 
 guished by the "sound as of the rushing of a 
 mighty wind," for there liad been a rushing, mighty 
 wind ever since there had been a wind to blow. 
 The grand distinguisliang peculiarity which sepa- 
 rates and signalizes the Day of Pentecost is the 
 coming of a spiritual power, unseen and mysteri- 
 ous, which, descending out of heaven, finds its 
 way into the spirits of men and there works its 
 holy and divine pleasure ; and that which is still 
 the highest in all Scripture, as in all human 
 thought, is this spiritual presence. 
 
 Brethren, we have come to the beginning of 
 the end. We shall change our place, but shall 
 not advance beyond this period that we are living 
 in. The spiritual reign of God to-day is the be- 
 ffinnino: of the everlastincf reio^n of God. It is the 
 eternal reign of spirit and of truth in that kingdom 
 which is no longer at Jerusalem ; which is not army 
 nor government, palace nor cathedral ; which is 
 "righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost." 
 
130 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 If we pass for a moment to the examination of 
 those things which it is necessary to have done in 
 the world, as our Lord himself has described them 
 — and the catalogue is neither brief nor narrow — 
 we find that every one of them must necessarily 
 be done by the Spirit, if it is done at all. There 
 are certain things which a man can do by outward 
 force. He can fell the tree; he can break the 
 rock ; he can shut men in prison ; he can drive 
 them by his whip ; he can take away their exist- 
 ence in this world, and after that he has no more 
 that he can do. The grand things which must be 
 done must be done by the Spirit of God in the 
 spirit of men. Let us look at the list for a moment. 
 
 If a man is to enter upon the life of the sons 
 of God, he must enter upon it in the only 
 way in which life is ever entered upon, and that is 
 by birth. If he is to come into the household of 
 God and be God's child, he must be born into it. 
 There are no orphans in God's house ; there are 
 no strangers there. None dwell with God on earth 
 or in heaven except the children of God, and no 
 one becomes God's child except by birth. Hence 
 there comes this need of the new birth. " Ye 
 must be born again," is our first step in righteous- 
 ness and eternal life. Surely that is a spiritual 
 work. You cannot by any outward demonstration 
 create a man's thoughts over again, renew his pur- 
 poses, change the current of his life. It must be 
 done within him ; and the only thing which can 
 
NOT BY MIGHT, BUT BY SPIRIT. 131 
 
 work within him is the Spirit whicli can enter into 
 a man. 
 
 Again, it is necessary that men shoukl be con- 
 vinced of sin, and of righteousness, and of judg- 
 ment ; and this can only be done by the Spirit of 
 God. It is necessary that some one shoukl take 
 of the things of Christ and show them unto men, 
 and guide men into all trutli; and this can only be 
 done by the Spirit. Again, it is necessary that 
 there should be a continual abiding of God with 
 men. Everywhere, in all the homes of men, there 
 must be this divine presence which can only be a 
 spiritual presence. This is to give the witness to 
 us that we are God's children ; this is to give us 
 the assurance whereby we can say, "Abba, Father," 
 and look up into the face of Jehovah of hosts. 
 The Spirit comes to us, again, to give us that 
 which is described in the large word of the New 
 Testament, " Comfort." The Comforter must be 
 in the heart of us. You cannot comfort a man 
 when he is in trouble b}- building him a larger 
 house, or b}^ pouring wealth into his lap. Com- 
 fort must find the troubled heart ; and the only 
 Comforter of the world is the divine Comforter, 
 who, with all consolation in his hand, bears his 
 solace into the troubled hearts of the children of 
 men. 
 
 It is a beautiful suggestion Avhich the Psalmist 
 made long ago. And how many of these old verses 
 of the Psalmists and of the Prophets come out 
 
132 CAMBRIDGE SEBMONS. 
 
 with new light and enlargement when we read 
 them witli the New Testament in our hands ! The 
 Holy Spirit descended npon our Lord in bodily 
 form as a dove, and he Avas the Comforter. The 
 emblem of the Holy Spiiit in the New Testament 
 is the dove resting upon humanity in the Son of 
 Man. NoAv read the words of David : " Oh, that I 
 had wings like a dove ! " But such wings would 
 not be strong enough to bear us above the trouble 
 and weariness of this world. Read that verse now 
 with the New Testament open before you, and how 
 full of strength it becomes ; how full of reality, sat- 
 isfaction, and power! The devout and longing 
 soul breathes forth a better aspiration : " Oh, that I 
 had the wings of the dove, the Holy Ghost, the 
 Comforter ; then would I fly away, borne up on 
 these almighty pinions, into the everlasting rest." 
 If we take that work which is yet to be done 
 in the world, to win the Avorld unto the love of 
 Christ, still it is the same spiritual work, bringing 
 men into new lives, that they may have a new 
 destin}^ of righteousness and of eternal life. 
 Truly, as one reads it again, there comes a fresh 
 interpretation of an old Scripture. So many say 
 nowadays that the Old Testament is harsh and 
 unkind. I suppose they say so because they do 
 not read it. You can say what you please about a 
 man whom you do not know. One who knows 
 the Old Testament will not say that. But how 
 beautiful, how enlarged, how strong, how precious, 
 
NOT BY MIGHT, BUT BY SPIIilT. 133 
 
 becomes the Old Testament thought in the light 
 of the New. For it was an Old Testament saint 
 who said, " Thy gentleness," thy quietness, thy 
 patience, thy love, not thy might nor thy power, 
 " thy gentleness hath made me great." 
 
 Thus it must be always ; and we are not sur- 
 prised at this the moment we think who the Holy 
 Spirit is. It is not the wind, it is not light. It 
 is the spirit of God entering into the spirit of man. 
 The Holy Spirit is God. If any one shall sa}' the 
 Holy Spirit seems sometimes to be spoken of as 
 an influence proceeding into the world, still it is 
 God's influence. There have been persons who 
 have doubted the divinity of Christ ; I believe no 
 one doubts the divinity of the Holy Spirit. It is 
 God's influence, if it is an influence. Rather it 
 is God having influence, Avho is the Holy Spirit. 
 When one thinks how great God is, and how near 
 he can come to us because we are spirit as he 
 is spirit, then he finds the provision for all this 
 that shall come. 
 
 Hence we find, passing again from the Old 
 Testament to the New, how a word which there 
 is set aside in the sentence of the Prophet, comes 
 from the lips of the Christ with all its force 
 strengthened, and becomes one of the telling and 
 inspiring words of the Gospel truth. '' Not by 
 power," said the Prophet ; and Jesus said, " Ye 
 shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost 
 is come upon you." '' Not by God's hand," said 
 
134 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 the Prophet; "By my spirit," said the Christ. 
 " Not by what shall be done outwardly upon men, 
 but by what shall be done in the hearts of men," 
 said the Prophet. " Ye shall receive power over the 
 hearts of men," Jesus taught, when on the Mount 
 of the Ascension he gave his last promise to the 
 disciples whom he was to leave in the world. The 
 power is that which makes human efficiency and 
 accomplishment. 
 
 Knowledge is said to be power. Knowledge is 
 power in the same sense that wood is fuel. Wood 
 on fire is fuel; knowledge on fire is power. There 
 is no more power in knowledge than there is in 
 the stones or stars which you know, unless there 
 be a spirit and life in tlie knowledge which give 
 it its energy. In proportion as men have this 
 spiritual power do they become strong in the 
 world. If I may borrow the illustration from one 
 of our own writers ; when Eric starts from Green- 
 land in robust health he will steer west, and his 
 ships will reach Newfoundland. But take out Eric 
 and put in Biorne or Thorfin, and with just as 
 much ease the ship will find New England. The 
 difference between Eric and Biorno is a difference 
 of spirit. The difference between Peter on the 
 day of Pentecost and Peter before is a difference 
 of spiritual power. Hear his last question before 
 he comes to the Ascension : " Lord, and what shall 
 this man do? " Hear his question on the Mount 
 of the Ascension : " Wilt thou at this time restore 
 
NOT BY MIGHT, BUT BY SPIRIT. 135 
 
 again the kingdom to Israel ? " Hear his words 
 when the Spirit of God has descended upon him ; 
 words which have never ceased ; which have brouglit 
 men by the tliousands into the new life by the 
 cross. Take Saul of Tarsus with all his madness ; 
 he learns no new philosophy at Damascus, gains 
 nothino' of that which is accounted knowledg-e. 
 There comes upon him, after he has gone into the 
 city, the Holy Ghost, and St. Paul from that hour 
 outstrips all others in the greatness of his accom- 
 plishment in the hearts and lives of men. 
 
 Power comes to knowledge to give it efficiency. 
 Knowledge without power is like the heir-apparent 
 to the throne. He is of royal blood, but he has 
 no autliority. Knowledge with power is the 
 prhice on the throne, with the crown and sceptre. 
 Power comes to good resolution to give it effi- 
 ciency. This is weak; it is worthless in itself. "I 
 will arise and go to my father," is a purpose, and 
 the man is as hungry and as ragged after it as he 
 was before. " I arise and go to my father ; " that 
 is resolution with power in it. Duty comes to us 
 as something hard, and we shrink from it. No 
 one is a large man if he does not feel that his 
 duty is larger than himself. Our ideas of duty are 
 too petty, and too low, if Ave are able of ourselves 
 to change them into the deeds. It never was 
 meant that a man by himself should do his work. 
 The Sermon on the Mount is beyond every one of 
 us. But with the Sermon on the Mount comes 
 
136 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 the promise of power by which we can meet its 
 duties ; and when we take the commandment 
 with the power which accompanies it, then we 
 can do our duty. God who gives the duty gives 
 himself to make us strong for the duty. " When 
 religion ceases to demand the impossible, it ceases 
 to be religion," some one has said, and it is a 
 simple and profound truth. So in our way of 
 attainment. We look at these visions of Christian 
 character, and how far beyond us they seem as they 
 are presented in the New Testament ? And who 
 can ever come up to this excellency of heart and 
 of life, to be perfect, to be holy ? We do well to 
 despair and say, " It is a dream, this thought of 
 being so great. It may be for apostles ; it may be 
 for pious women ; it is not for business men." It 
 is for business men. Business men are to be saints. 
 Business is to be as holy as praying, or we have no 
 right to touch it with one of our fingers ; and our 
 common occupations are to be as holy as the work 
 of the angels. Can it ever be? Of course it can 
 never be. Let us abandon all hope of it. Then 
 let us make it true. For Jesus says, when he sets 
 before us this lofty ideal, I will give you power ; 
 I will bear your thoughts up ; I will inspire your 
 purposes ; I will attend you through all the strain 
 and stress of life, and you shall be clean, for I will 
 make you pure. When Christ keeps a man, there 
 is not pollution enough in the world to stain his 
 garments ; there is not heat enough in the fur- 
 
NOT BY MIGHT, BUT BY HFIEIT. 137 
 
 nace to put the smell of fire even upon liis robes. 
 
 Or, if we tliiiilc of Christian worlv wliich we are 
 to do for men as ministers of God's grace, again 
 w^e shrink from it. How can we bring men to 
 the Saviour ? " It is of no use for me to speak to 
 my neighbor," a man says. " There is very little 
 comes from preaching the gospel," men 'say. 
 " There is very little good comes from the Sab- 
 bath-school," some think. There is truth in these 
 words and thoughts. Not by the might of words, 
 not by the power of preaching, when a man's lips 
 utter the truth to liuman ears, can the work be 
 done. But when the school becomes filled with 
 the Spirit of God ; when in every teacher's heart 
 is the Holy Spirit speaking through his lips ; when 
 the Spirit of God gives you truth to utter, and 
 prepares the heart of the one to whom you sliall 
 speak it, and when you obey the Spirit, then your 
 ministry becomes a power in the world. 
 
 It is not strange that our lives seem to us so 
 weak. There are some of you who are wont 
 to express your discontent with life and its 
 results. You are discontented and it Avill grow 
 worse and worse. You will go througli a series 
 of disappointments, and on your dying bed you 
 will say that life is a failure, and it may be you 
 will tell the truth. It may be a failure. It is 
 a pity to work hard fifty years and then die with 
 little done. But we do. We are not equal to 
 life ; we cannot bear its temptations ; we cannot 
 
138 CAMBRIDGE SER3fONS. 
 
 meet its duties ; we cannot fulfil our purposes ; 
 and it is in vain that we rely upon might and 
 power. " But have I not all my years attended 
 church? " one may ask. "Do I not try very hard 
 to do right?" Very likely. ''Not by might" 
 do men do right ; " not by power " do men fulfil 
 the end of their being, "but by my spirit, saith 
 the Lord of hosts." Only God is as great as a 
 human life. A man is not large enough for that 
 which God requires of him, since sin has shrunken 
 him to small proportions. If you will let the 
 Spirit of God come into your heart and make 
 your thoughts ; if you will let him mark out your 
 path day by day, and then tread it; if you will 
 listen to his suggestions and obe}^ his word, to-day 
 will be successful, to-morrow will be prosperous. 
 Men will praise you, and, better than that, your 
 heart will commend you. Then, and never until 
 then, will the voice of the Christ say " Well done, 
 good and faithful servant." 
 
 I would save you, and I would save myself, 
 from narrow and earthly living. I would come 
 with you into these high and holy purposes which 
 shall accomplish great results. But it is not by 
 external means ; it is not by the struggle of our 
 spirits ; it is not b}^ the force of our will ; it is only 
 as the great, wise, and loving will of the Spirit of 
 God enters into our spirit, that we become great 
 enough. I read only last week the instruction 
 of an actor touching those things which are requi- 
 
NOT BY MIGHT, BUT BY SPIBIT. 139 
 
 site for success in his calling. This writer said 
 that there are three things necessary : talent, train- 
 ing — but these two would not accomplish much; 
 there must also be what was called "inspiration." 
 I said, " Saul also is among the prophets." If to 
 personate somebody else ; if to go through an 
 hour's mimicry for the entertainment of a throng ; 
 if to amuse without much prospect of improving ; 
 if this demands more than talent and more than 
 training, even a spirit within, then to be real men 
 and to do a real work which shall make the 
 streets safer, which shall make life happier, Avhich 
 shall bring the kingdom of God nearer, this 
 demands more than mio-ht — the mio^ht of liuman 
 strength ; more than power — the power of a trained 
 will. It demands '' M}^ spirit, saith the Lord 
 of hosts." I suppose that we get as much return 
 from life as we have any right to expect. Our 
 might can only repeat the poverty of the recom- 
 pense, till our failing breath shall say, "Vanity of 
 vanities." Where is our wisdom to-day, but in 
 opening our hearts to the strength which never 
 fails ; to the incoming of the. life which is the 
 beginning of immortality ! Then shall we reign : 
 then shall we do our daily work in the power and 
 glory of it. Then shall man be served, and God 
 be glorified. 
 
 It is this — let me say again — it is this which the 
 world needs. They tell us the Church has lost its 
 power in the world. It is not true. But the 
 
140 CAMBBIDGE SEEMONS. 
 
 Church will enlarge its influence when it has 
 enlarged its spirit. The greatest gift which you 
 can give to your profession, to your house, to the 
 community, is the gift of a man who lives by the 
 power of God's Spirit teaching him, directing him, 
 employing him, and who shall carry down into all 
 the sordidness and earthiness of the world a spir- 
 itual character, spiritual utterances, spiritual vision ; 
 a life that is made up by the power of the endless 
 years. 
 
 I turn from this subject with regret. As I stand 
 with you to-day and see hoAV life promises to 
 repeat its inefficiency, and that many of us are 
 likely to lie down at last defeated, and perhaps in 
 the grave of the wicked, I cannot cease from say- 
 ing to you and to myself, that there is but one 
 thing which can save us ; but one way in which we 
 can glorify God in our heart and our life ; and that 
 is, not by simply trying to be good ; not by working 
 hard to do good; it is by receiving the Spirit into 
 our spirit ; praying God to come to us and take us ; 
 to teach us, to guide us, to use us. Then God's 
 success shall be our success ; life shall be glorified, 
 and God shall be honored. 
 
 There stands the organ, as it has stood through 
 these minutes in which I have been speaking to 
 you. Unless it falls in pieces, it may stand there 
 for many years, silent as at this moment. There 
 is no voice in its pipes ; no sound issues 
 from it. It is dumb ; it is dead. If the skilled 
 
NOT BY MIGHT, BUT BY S PIE IT. 141 
 
 hands of the phayer touch the keys, 5^011 will liear 
 the rattle, but there will be no music. Handel 
 jiimself might come and la}' his fingers, heavy with 
 melod}', upon the keys; there would be the same 
 rattle which a boy could make. Dumb organ, 
 dead, let the sexton bury it out of our sight. 
 There is only one thing which can save it : a 
 breath from without ; a spirit which shall come as 
 the wind comes. The air which is in this great 
 outer world must be breathed into its pipes, and 
 answer to the hands of a man, pouring out its obe- 
 dient harmon3\ It will wake to music, and to 
 thought, and life, and worship, only as the breath 
 of the living God moves through its silence. If it 
 be true of an organ, it is true of a man. Only as 
 God breathes through our reason and conscience ; 
 breathes through these lips and out of this life of 
 ours, only then shall we utter the melody which 
 will enlarge the harmony of the world and blend 
 with the eternal minstrelsy of the supernal courts. 
 
 Come, Holy Spirit, heavenly dove, 
 With all thy quickening powers. 
 
 Brethren, it is your last hope. But it is a liope. 
 
VIII. 
 GRIEVING THE HOLY SPIRIT. 
 
 Scripture Lesson : Bomans viii : 14-39. 
 
 Text : Grieve not the Holy Spirit of God. Fph. iv : 30. 
 
 THIS brings the Holy Spirit very near to us. 
 We must be in intimate relations witli him, 
 if we can grieve him. He is no longer afar off; he 
 is not indifferent to our words or our will ; lie is 
 close to us, tenderly regarding us, intimately inter- 
 ested ill us, if Avhat we can do can grieve the Spirit 
 of God, who is the spirit of blessedness. 
 
 We are reminded again by this teaching of the 
 personality of the Spirit. You cannot grieve a 
 thing; you cannot grieve an influence; nothing 
 can be grieved but that which has a heart, and a 
 will, and a life — a person. The Holy Spirit is 
 the Spirit of God ; God is spirit ; God is the Holy 
 Spirit ; the Holy Spirit is God. 
 
 It is clear that it is a matter of extreme concern 
 that, if God be so near to us, we who would 
 receive his blessing should be submissive to his 
 will; should be governed by his guidance ; should 
 
 142 
 
GRIEVING THE HOLY SPIRIT. 143 
 
 let him pour upon us the riches of his grace. It 
 must be a sad tiling if one, for any reason, shuts 
 himself out from the blessing and grace of God ; 
 if he grieves God so that he withdraws his pres- 
 ence and the man fails of those things which the 
 lavish mercy would bestow upon him — the 
 exceeding richness of his grace. 
 
 The Spirit coming into the world to bless us 
 does not come on an independent mission. Let us 
 notice, first of all, the precise position of the work 
 of the Spirit of God. '' God so loved the world, 
 that he gave his only-begotten Son, that wdioso- 
 ever believeth in him should not perish, but have 
 everlasting life." The Son of God so loved the 
 world that he gave himself, that men might have 
 everlasting life. The Father and the Son so loved 
 the world that they gave the Holy Spirit that men 
 mifrht have everlastinn; life. BetAveen the love 
 which is in the heart of God and that love posses- 
 sing the heart of a man, ruling it and blessing it, 
 stands the cross of Christ who is the incarnate 
 and crucified love of God. The work of the Holy 
 Spirit is to bring this love which is in God's heart, 
 and which Avorks so wondrously and graciously in 
 the cross of the Son of God, into our lives, to 
 make it effective there, that the highest purpose 
 of God may be accomplished ; that the greatest 
 thought of the love of God may fulfil itself within 
 the lives of men. This is the work of the Spirit 
 of God which we are to recoo-nize and to think 
 
144 CAMBRIDGE SERIfOJSrS. 
 
 upon. He comes to us to do nothing of himself. 
 Most expressive is that word of tlie blessed Lord : 
 ^' The Holy Spirit shall not speak of himself." 
 Precisely as Jesus asserted his oneness with the 
 Father when he said, I am so united with the 
 Father that it is not possible I should do anything 
 as separate from him ; I can only do that which I 
 do in union with him ; so does he say of the 
 spirit, apart from the Father and apart from 
 me, he can do nothing. It is by the Spirit of 
 God, taking the love of God and the redemption 
 of Christ and carrying them into the spirit of men, 
 that the first and the last thought of God is accom- 
 plished in the hearts of his children. 
 
 We have but to turn to those things which 
 Christ said concerning the Spirit if we would find 
 the special work which he is to do. We may 
 divide it, in a general way, into three parts. 
 There are three things, or three classes of things, 
 which our Lord has told us that the Holy Spirit 
 will do. In the first place, '• He shall glorify me ; " 
 that is, he shall show me to the world ; he shall 
 make my glory to shine before men. What a tes- 
 timony it is to our Lord Jesus Christ, that God 
 comes into the world to glorify him ! Of what 
 man could it be said, of what angel could it be 
 said, that the great work of God in the world 
 is to glorify him? Yet our Lord said, that the 
 work of the Holy Ghost in the world is to make 
 Christ glorious. " He shall glorify me." " He 
 
GlilEVING THE UOLY SPIIilT. 145 
 
 sliall testify of me ; he shall take of mine and 
 sluill show it unto you;" that is, he shall stand 
 in the stead of Christ that men may see Christ. 
 
 Secondly. " He shall guide you into all truth ; " 
 not through all truth, but into all truth; not 
 into all departments of truth, the scientific, and 
 philosophical, and historical, but into, within, 
 all that truth which is concerned in tlie love and 
 in the redemption of God. " He shall show you 
 things to come." ^ 
 
 Thirdly. He shall work within the spirit of 
 a man, that the will of God may be done there. 
 Since the evil in man is his departure from God, 
 the Holy Spirit shall bring him back to God. 
 Since man is fallen from his divine nature, the 
 Spirit shall restore him to the divine nature, that 
 he may begin again in life ; that, with the old 
 become new, he may make up a new life. To 
 this end he shall make men feel their need of 
 Christ, by reproving them of sin. He shall make 
 tliem feel the power of Christ, by showing them 
 liis redemption which is crowned by his resurrec- 
 tion. He shall make them feel the eternal separa- 
 tion between right and wrong, which is called the 
 judgment, by revealing to them the essential dif- 
 ference and the everlasting difference between one 
 who serves God and one who does not serve God. 
 
 Thus, if we take these three departments of 
 life — the glorifying Christ, the guiding into the 
 truth, and the niMking the truth practically effec- 
 
146 CAMBEIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 tive within the minds of men — we get, in a 
 general way, the work which the Holy Spirit is 
 to do in the world. He is to bring men to Christ 
 personally, and unite them to him, and then he is 
 to guide them along the Christian life. Hence 
 you find that he is spoken of under various terms, 
 all implying this enlightenment and this elevation 
 of the life. He is the "Holy Spirit." He is the 
 " spirit of grace." He is the " spirit of glory." 
 He is the "spirit of promise." He is the "spirit 
 of God." He is the " spirit of Christ." He is 
 the Holy Spirit — holy in himself, being the very 
 nature of God, and so doing a holy v^ork in the 
 hearts of the children of men. As many as are 
 led by him, they are the sons of God; and as 
 many as have the witness of the Spirit in their 
 spirit that they are born of God, are able, out of 
 the heart, to repeat the words which any one can 
 say with his lips, " Abba Father." 
 
 If it be asked in what way this Spirit in our 
 hearts does this work, how this will of God is 
 accomplished by the Spirit, it is evident, at tlie 
 outset, that we must say he does it by a spirit- 
 ual presence and a spiritual power. The work 
 is not something which can be described in the 
 terms of our ordinary language, because our ordi- 
 nary terms are separate from it. It comes by the 
 influence of the Spirit which we are like and of 
 which we are born, upon our spirits which are born 
 of him. Sometimes men may be called by an 
 
GRIEVING THE HOLY SPIRIT. 147 
 
 outward demonstration of might or of power ; but 
 the work of tlie Spirit is the work of God upon the 
 hearts of men. Hence you are not to look for 
 anything surprising in the external world. There 
 will be no new star in the heavens; there may be 
 no great commotion in society ; there may be no 
 revolution in your own house. If God does any- 
 thing for you, he will do it quietly and gently and 
 simply in the heart of you, giving it a new thought, 
 or a stronger thought, a new impulse, a new 
 impression ; a changed direction ; something of 
 which the Avorld will know nothing at the time ; 
 of which you may know little, perhaps, unless you 
 are sensitive to the touch of a friend, sensitive to 
 the influence of a spirit upon your spirit. The 
 propliet is roused by the wind and by the fire ; bat 
 God is not in the wind nor the fire. These are to 
 awaken him ; then God speaks to his attentive 
 ear, and the man wraps his face in his mantle and 
 stands at the entering in of the cave and hears the 
 command and comfort of God. God often rouses 
 us by these outward demonstrations of his power, 
 that we may listen to the quiet speaking of his 
 voice. 
 
 Tlie work of the Holy Spirit in us will employ 
 various methods. In the first place, it will be a 
 direct spiritual influence upon our hearts ; tlie 
 Spirit of God coming into contact with our spirit, 
 touching it, affecting it, as light flows into light, 
 as air flows into air, as water flows into water, 
 
148 CAMBRIDGE SER3T0NS. 
 
 simply passing through our spirit, as light passes 
 through a crystal, which is one of the illustrations 
 that have been given. Again, the Spirit will 
 oftentimes come to us through our conscience, 
 quickening it, making it speak with a more author- 
 itative voice. He will come again through our 
 reason, guiding us by our processes of thought to 
 certain conclusions which are in accordance with 
 the will of God. Again, he will come to us 
 through our experience, teaching us the lessons of 
 our own life and impressing them upon us until we 
 are wiser by that through which we have passed. 
 Again, he will come to us through the opportuni- 
 ties of life, Avhich is one of his favorite ways of 
 approach, showing us what we may do, and what 
 we ought to do, only that he may reveal to us the 
 will of God, and may bring us up into that which 
 is higher and holier in life. Again, and more 
 especially, he will come to us through the truth of 
 God. If holy men as they were moved by God 
 have written the Scriptures, men are to read the 
 Hol}^ Scriptures as they are moved by him. He 
 will take the word out of the lips of prophet and 
 apostle ; he will take the word of Christ, which 
 to-day to us may have no meaning ; and he will 
 repeat the word, and make us think upon it, and feel 
 it, until the word becomes light and life to our soul. 
 He will speak to us through the truth uttered by 
 the preacher's voice, by the teacher's, by the 
 father's or mother's, oftentimes by words which 
 
GRIEVING THE HOLY SPIRIT. 149 
 
 have gained power because the lips Avhich uttorecl 
 them have turned to dust. How many of the 
 memories of life, repeating the truths which those 
 have spoken who have fallen upon sleep, are sim- 
 ply the way which the Holy Spirit takes, uttering 
 his truth in language from which we cannot turn 
 away, in a voice whose tones have become sweeter 
 to us because we have lost sight of the face whicli 
 Avas before us when they were spoken ; taking the 
 words of a sainted father or of a holy mother, and 
 in their language, in the very tones of their voice, 
 trving to repeat to us the thought of God. You 
 say it is your father speaking to you; it is the 
 Holy Ghost speaking through a father's voice. 
 You say you have tender memories of your 
 mother; the Holy Spirit comes through those 
 recollections, thinking that now^ he has the word 
 which you cannot resist, that at least you will 
 hear her who was the dearest to you, and that he 
 may persuade you into the ways of God. He will 
 come ag^ain throuq;h the Church and its ordi- 
 nances and its sacraments, which have no grace by 
 virtue of their nature, but which are made the 
 vehicle of the grace of God to men. 
 
 It is evident that in all these ways it is the pur- 
 pose of God to find our hearts, and it is t\^ 
 method of God to enter into our hearts, that there 
 lie may control us. The Spirit of God does not 
 come to add a cubit to our stature. He does not 
 make one hair white or black. He may not 
 
150 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 enlarge our resources. He may not strengthen 
 our intellect — yet I suppose he does. If I am 
 not mistaken, a man has a stronger mind and 
 stronger reasoning faculties, lie has a larger intel- 
 lect, when God is in his mind. A man's power to 
 study and grasp truth, all the truth of God, in 
 nature, in religion, in science and in philosophy, 
 is greatest when the man's mind and heart are full 
 of the Spirit of the living God. 
 
 But it will be asked, how, if these things are to 
 be discerned spiritually, and are to be the spirit- 
 ual woTking of God in us, can we bring him to us 
 that this power shall become a reality in our 
 experience? If it were a man, we might call 
 him ; if it were a school, we might enter it ; if 
 it were a book, we might read it. But if it be 
 the coming of spirit into spirit, what can we 
 who are in the flesh do, that he may enter into 
 ■QS ? The question indicates a common mistake. 
 Strange that men should think that there is some- 
 thing we must do in order to bring God near 
 to us, when God is as close to us as our own life ; 
 when within God we are living and moving. 
 They cannot have read the Bible if they think 
 that in some way they must search the heavens 
 to bring God clown, or descend into the dejDths 
 to bring God up. He is near our hearts to-day. 
 What is the whole representation of Scripture ? 
 That God is speaking to us, and is so near that 
 we can hear his voice. What is the promise to 
 
GRIEVING THE HOLY SPIRIT. 151 
 
 pra3^er? That God's ear is so near that he hears 
 us, even when we do not lisp the words. How 
 sliall God be nearer to a man than tliat ? Is he 
 not always calling us, not waiting* to be called of 
 us ? Is he not always pleading with us, entreat- 
 ing us, warning us, that he may bring us to him- 
 self? How vivid is that language of Scripture : 
 " Behold, I stand at the door and knock." Let 
 me warn you against the error, that, staying 
 within your bolted doors, you must wait for God 
 to come down out of the heavens ; lifting up your 
 voice, beseeching him to come, that you may feel 
 his presence. If you would stop talking long 
 enough, 3'ou would hear his knock at the door ; 
 if you would be still long enough, you would find 
 his finger at the latch ; if you would only open 
 your heart, you would find him within the heart. 
 
 Yet are we not told in the Scriptures that we 
 must ask for the Holy Spirit ? Is it not said that 
 God will give the Holy Spirit to them that ask 
 him? Yes; but in what connection is it said? 
 It is said that God will give the Holy Spirit as a 
 loving father will give bread to his children — 
 bread, the staff of life; tlie spirit, the staff of life. 
 But how does the father give to his child? Are 
 your cliildren in the habit of begging you for 
 bread? Do they go to bed at niglit anxious lest 
 there should be no food for them ? Do you not 
 provide the bread, and place it upon the table, and 
 summon tlieni to eat, perhaps oftentimes compel 
 
152 CAMBBIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 them to go in? The askin<; of a child for bread 
 is answered before it is heard. Your child has 
 not prayed for his dail}^ bread for this noon and this 
 evening, but you have it ready. He may ask, but 
 tliere is no need of begging. The prayer for the 
 Holy Sj)irit will be the natural expression of 
 desire. We should ask out of a heart which 
 knows that it will have the blessing as it is sure 
 of the Father's love and has the Father's promise, 
 and his presence. We must open the heart, open 
 the nature, open the spirit, and let the Spirit 
 come in. 
 
 The light as it shines out of the heavens falls 
 upon the marble, j)lays upon its surface, brightens 
 it for a moment, but does not pass within it. The 
 marble is not open to the light. The same light 
 falls upon the diamond, harder than marble, passes 
 into it, and there divides its own brightness, its 
 purple and its gold, and flashes it out before 
 the e3'es of men. Be not the marble, and let 
 the Spirit of God lie upon the stony heart. Be 
 the diamond, and let the Spirit of God enter 
 into the heart to enlighten it, to linger in it, to 
 make it bright and beautiful, until men shall 
 behold its glory as it is illumined with the glory 
 of God. But for this it is necessary to put far 
 from us all alien things — the unholy thing, that 
 we may have holiness ; the selfish thing, that we 
 may have charity ; the earthly thing, that we 
 may have the heavenly. We must give all we 
 
GRIEVING THE HOLY SPIRIT. 153 
 
 have ; part with all our pearls for a better one, 
 sell A,ll our land for a field with a treasure in it ; 
 give up ourselves to find God ; give up this world 
 to find heaven ; give up our sin to find righteous- 
 ness ; give up to-day to find the endless 3^ears. 
 
 We are to obey Christ if we would have the 
 Holy Spirit. He said, " If ye love me, heep my 
 commandments, and I will pray the Father, and 
 he sliall give you another Comforter, that he may 
 abide with 3^ou forever." Do the will of the Christ, 
 and you shall have the Spirit of the Christ. 
 
 Perhaps it will be said that these methods which 
 I have sketclied are rather the result ; that they 
 are the things to be obtained through the Spirit, 
 rather tlian the method by which we may receive 
 the Spirit. I think the j)oint is well taken ; yet 
 one falls naturally into this way of speaking. 
 Before you open your heart to the Spirit, tlie 
 Spirit must enter your heart himself, that is true. 
 Before 3'ou obey Christ, the Spirit of Christ must 
 come to you. 
 
 Suppose, then, we change the thought for a 
 moment. What am I to do that I may receive 
 the Holy Spirit ? A man can have the Spirit of 
 God by consenting to his influence. Yield to him 
 and he will stay with you ; consent to his control 
 and he will control you ; be willing to be holy and 
 he will make }'0U hoi}'. This whole matter of 
 bringing the Holy Spirit into the control of our 
 life and into the sanctifying of our body and of 
 
154 cambhibge sermons. 
 
 our spirit \\\^j be set in a single word ; and that 
 word is obedience. He wlio will obey God's Spirit 
 sluill have God's Spirit ; shall be guided by him, 
 and that forevermore. There is no royal road but 
 this. If you want the Spirit of God to control 
 you, he will. 
 
 I think that there is nothing told us in the New 
 Testament of the method in which we are to bring 
 the Holy Spirit to us. God seems to have taken 
 that entirely into liis own hands. You will find 
 these promises repeated : " The Father will send 
 the Spirit," " The Spirit will come to you." We 
 are dependent. Let God choose the method of his 
 own work. He promises that the spirit shall abide 
 with us, if we want him ; not as a stranger or a 
 guest, or a servant, but as a friend. We are to 
 want him, and be sensitive to his presence, and we 
 shall have the Spirit of God. 
 
 We can make this a little more distinct, perhaps, 
 by recalling the things which the Holy Spirit is to 
 do. He has three departments of work: first, he 
 is to glorify Christ. The Spirit of God when 
 he comes to you will seek to glorify Christ. 
 If he points to Christ, you are to look to 
 Christ. If he repeats the words of Christ, 
 you are to hear them. If he lays down the 
 commands of Christ, 5^ou are to receive them. 
 He seeks to make Christ great and glorious in 
 your e3^es ; and if you will let Christ be glorified, 
 then the Holy Spirit will intensify the glory for- 
 
GRIEVING THE HOLY SPIRIT. 155 
 
 ever. Secondly, he is to guide into all truth. 
 If you want to be guided into all truth, then enter 
 into all truth. Take the Word of God ; open it 
 before you ; let the Spirit of God interpret it ; and 
 when you have found a truth, believe it ; when 
 you have found a promise, trust it ; when you 
 have found a command, do it. Yield to this touch 
 whicli comes up through the words of .Scripture, 
 and the Holy Spirit will bless the truth to you. 
 If he tells you that this is the path to walk in, 
 walk in it, and he will lead you to the end. Then 
 thirdly, if he is to regenerate us, if he is to bring 
 us out of unrighteousness into holiness, let us 
 consent to take up the new plans of life ; to take 
 out of our life everything that is unholy ; to con- 
 sent to do right and to be wholly right with God ; 
 to consent to have our spirit sanctified and to have 
 the earnest of that sanctifying which is to make 
 even this vile body a spiritual body like our Lord's. 
 It was a very striking remark, an interesting 
 thought, of one of my predecessors in this minis- 
 try. He made a vo^'age around the world a few 
 years ago, and in his leisure he wrote a sermon. 
 He tells us how much he was impressed by one 
 thing on shipboard ; and that was the man at the 
 wheel. Summer and winter, all through the 
 voyage, there stood that man. The captain 
 might be away ; the crew might be absent ; 
 everybody else but this one man and the ofQcer 
 of the deck might be asleep, might be at worship. 
 
156 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 might be engaged in any of the affairs of the ship, 
 but there, through day and night, was that con- 
 stant man at the wheeL The touch of his hand 
 governed the ship, ordered the sails, guarded the 
 treasure of merchandise and men. The ship was 
 in the control, under the captain, of that man's 
 will, of his virtue, of his power, — of that man's 
 spirit. Now the remark to wliich I alluded was 
 this: Doctor Adams says, "The suggestions of 
 the Holy Spirit are the man at the wheel in our 
 souls." I will leave you to think it out. 
 
 I have not forgotten the Avords which I read as 
 the text. This which I have said is an illustra- 
 tion, an unfolding of that word of the apostle, 
 " Grieve not the Holy Spirit of God." If any one 
 shall ask how may I grieve the Holy Spirit, I can 
 only say by failing to do this which I have de- 
 scribed. Neglecting him, that is grieving him. Re- 
 fuse to listen, that is grieving him ; refuse to obey, 
 that is grieving him. Make him know that you 
 do not want him, and after a time he will go his 
 v/ay and you will be left to yourself. There is 
 but one way to possess him permanently, and that 
 is to obey him. There is but one way to grieve 
 him, and that is to neglect him. The ship answers 
 to her helm, and the will of the man is done. 
 The life answers to the Spirit, and the will of the 
 Spirit is done. We think his thoughts, we are 
 governed by his purposes, and thus we honor him 
 and have his power. We leave him, and he leaves 
 
GRIEVING THE HOLY SPIRIT. 157 
 
 US. There are otlier words beside these. St. Paul 
 was fond of tlie tender words. There are differ- 
 ent words which describe the same thing. Thus, 
 Isaiah speaks of "wearjdng" God. Do you sup- 
 pose you could stand and knock at a man's door 
 as long as God has knocked at yours, and not be 
 tired of it ? Ezekiel uses anothor word ; he speaks 
 of " fretting " God. It is a strange word. You 
 know what it means ; to be annoyed and hin- 
 dered ; not to be struck or denounced, only to be 
 worried. We may do this by thinking of the Spirit 
 and then forgetting liim ; going a little way with 
 him, and then turning back ; professing great 
 things on Sunday, and on Monday denying them. 
 It is an admirable word. It would fret you to 
 have your child do so ; and Ezekiel says that God 
 is fretted, speaking after the manner of men. 
 Then the author of the Epistle to the He- 
 brews says, that we ma}^ "do despite," malice, 
 wrong, cruelty, unto the Spirit of God. Perhaps 
 the strongest use of the word which here is trans- 
 lated "grieve," is in the account of our Lord's 
 suffering in Gethsemane, where it is said that he 
 became " exceeding sorrowful." The word for 
 " sorrowful " is this word "grieve." I do not like 
 to say it, but it seems like making a Gethsemane 
 in our hearts, to resist the Holy Spirit. Jesus 
 entered into the garden and began to be " exceed- 
 ing sorrowful." Do not make the Holy Spirit 
 " exceeding sorrowful." God is trying all the 
 
158 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 time to help you, all the while to teach 3^011 and to 
 save you, to exalt you, and if you are persistently 
 slighting, wounding, bruising him, until the soul 
 becomes the garden Avith the olive-trees, then is 
 the Saviour, the Comforter of men, "exceeding 
 sorrowful.'' Grieve not the Holy Spirit of God. 
 There is another spirit; it is the spirit of the 
 world. It is a spirit in men and women ; St. 
 Paul called it " the course of this world," and " the 
 prince of the power of the air." It works against 
 the Spirit of God, and it strives to draw us away 
 from Christ and the things of Christ ; and often 
 it succeeds. I have seen this spirit of the world 
 come to men. The Spirit of God had been trying 
 to win them to Christ the Saviour. They were 
 almost persuaded, until there came this other 
 spirit, touching their thoughts and turning them 
 the other way ; touching the affections and turning 
 them from God. It comes like an angel of light, 
 of course ; it has wings which shine in the partial 
 light, and it wins men from God ; they turn away 
 from Christ ; they think less uj)on him ; they 
 give up their good purposes ; they become more 
 and more earthy, until their spiritual nature 
 hardens and shrinks. The spirit of the world 
 binds men hand and foot. Still the Spirit of God 
 will break the bands if men will let him ; but the 
 bands are tight and strong, and many a man is 
 dragged to his death by the unholy spirit, the spirit 
 of this world, the prilice of the power of the air. 
 
GRIEVING THE HOLY SPIIilT. 159 
 
 I wish that were the whole ; but sometimes this 
 spirit of the workl comes even into a heart into 
 which the Spirit of God has entered. A man 
 makes his confession of Christ and enters the 
 Church. He becomes zealous for the good of 
 others. He runs well for a time, as St. Paul 
 said, and you picture for him a noble career, until 
 presently he becomes inconstant ; drops a service 
 here and there ; has less and less interest in divine 
 things. He sa3^s his business requires it, which is 
 not true. He says the necessities of this world 
 require it, though the}^ never do. The spirit of 
 the world tells him, " You cannot afford to be an 
 earnest Christian man. Give that over to people 
 of leisure. You, with your peculiar temperament, 
 were never made to be useful ; with your circum- 
 stances it was never expected that you would be a 
 witness for Christ. You, with the society 3'ou 
 move in, with your associates, with your 
 pleasures — how hopeless it is for you to try 
 to be a Christian." It is said that it is 
 hard to be a Christian in these days. If it is, 
 it is not because the Spirit of God is not here, but 
 because the spirit of this world is liere ; and many 
 a Christian heart gives up its faith, casts away its 
 joy and its strength, sinks into uselessness, and 
 makes itself more and more tlie centre of itself, 
 until the Spirit of God is grieved. I will not say 
 how far a man may go in doing despite to the 
 Spirit of God and yet attain to heaven at last. 
 
160 cambhidge sermons. 
 
 But it is so sad that a man should go to heaven 
 alone, and that all the path which he treads should 
 be filled with a grieving of the Holy Spirit. 
 
 What is the remedy ? Why, simply yielding to 
 the Holy Spirit. If he inspires you with any new 
 thought, take it ; if he tells you there is some- 
 thing to be done, do it ; if it is impressed upon 
 you that there is something to say, say it; if he 
 comes with prohibition, let the prohibited thing 
 alone. Expect nothing but the gentle touch upon 
 your heart. If anything interferes with your 
 spiritual welfare, leave it. The Holy Spirit means 
 to use your work and your play ; to use your 
 learning and your life. You are not to cut ofp 
 the right hand unless it offends ; you are not to 
 spare it if it does offend you. 
 
 This subject is one of extreme solemnity. But 
 I have to leave you, as it is always best for a 
 preacher to do, unto the divine guidance ; and I 
 do it with this word. If there is borne in upon 
 your thought and mind to-day the feeling of 
 anything which you ought to do, obey the im- 
 pulse. Trust God and move on. The first step 
 in the spiritual life is the first step towards the 
 eternal glory. It is not difiicult to understand 
 that sin against the Holy Ghost which hath no 
 forgiveness. It is the final parting of the soul 
 from God. When God the Father comes, if he is 
 rejected, there remain the Son and the S[)irit. 
 When God the Son comes, if he is rejected, there 
 
GRIEVING TUE UOLY SPIRIT. 161 
 
 remains still the Spirit. Christ may bring a man 
 to the Father, the Spirit may bring a man to the 
 Son, and so to the Father ; but when one has 
 despised tlie Holy Spirit, there is nothing beyond. 
 
 If I may use such an expression, a man has 
 three chances in life. He can make up his life 
 under God the Father, If he 'loses that, he may 
 perhaps make it up under the Son. If he loses 
 that he may perhaps make it up under the Spirit. 
 But if he loses the Spirit of God, there is nothing 
 afterwards ; no covenant merc}^ no encouragement. 
 A man has nothing to hope for, if the love of God 
 has not held him, and the cross of Christ has not 
 won him, and the Spirit of God cannot persuade 
 him. 
 
 The unpardonable sin against the light is to put 
 out the eyes. The unpardonable sin against food 
 is to refuse to eat. The unpardonable sin against 
 God is not to let God govern us and save us. 
 The unpardonable sin is to throw away tlic last 
 of a man's three chances of life ; to refuse tliat 
 Spirit which, moving in our spirits, would bring 
 us to Christ the Saviour, and to God the Father 
 of us all. 
 
 O Spirit, beautiful and dread! 
 
 My heart is fit to break 
 With love of all thy tenderness 
 
 For us poor sinners' sake. 
 
IX. 
 
 TURNING NORTHWARD. 
 
 [a kew year's sermon.] 
 
 Scripture Lesson : Phil. Chapter iii. 
 Text: Ye have compassed this mountain long enough; 
 turn you northward. Deut ii: 3. 
 
 THIS was Mount Seir. The children of 
 Israel had come thus far on their way 
 towards the land which they were to possess. They 
 tarried- around the mountain. It was not Egypt, 
 with its bondage, its idolatry, and its despair; 
 but it was not the land of promise, with its 
 wealth, its opportunity, and its blessings. It 
 was not here in the wilderness that they were to 
 build the city of God, to raise up the prophets and 
 apostles of the world, and to form a State and 
 Church which would represent the kingdom of 
 God upon the earth. Yet they lingered ; they 
 compassed the mountain many days, until at 
 last the word of him who had called them out of 
 Egypt found them : " Ye have compassed this 
 mountain long enough; turn you northward." 
 
 162 
 
TURNING NORTHWARD. 163 
 
 It comes to us very often Jn life to need the 
 summons which came to these our bretliren. We 
 are inclined to remain where we are. We become 
 engrossed with certain pursuits and pleasures, and 
 come to think that life has found its limits and 
 henceforth must be little but repetition ; until the 
 voice of God comes to us, sometimes speaking in 
 our conscience, sometimes through a world Avhich 
 calls us to higher duty, sometimes directly by the 
 Spirit of God in our spirit, sometimes through the 
 providence which tears us away from our place, 
 or removes those things which have detained us. 
 Thus are we made to take up again the way and 
 the work of life that we may finish that whereunto 
 we are created. There are two movements in this 
 world. They have been aptly described as the 
 circular and the onward movement. The one is 
 that movement by which a man goes the round of 
 his daily duties from week to week and from year 
 to year, repeating over and over those things 
 which it is well for him to do, yet making no 
 advance. There is another movement wherein a 
 man, fulfilling the course of his ordinary duties, 
 still makes an advance, going farther and farther 
 from the place where he started and towards tliat 
 which is to be the crown and reward and rest of 
 his life. A very obvious illustration is in the 
 motion of the earth, with its circular movement 
 upon its axis, yet with that which is its larger 
 movement by which it pushes on continually^ day 
 
164 CAMBIUDGE SEllMONS. 
 
 by day, in a larger orbit around the point which 
 is the centre of its life. Or, if this be too con- 
 tracted an illustration, this whole system to 
 which we belong preserves its circular movement ; 
 it compasses the mountain, yet all the wliile, 
 through centuries which are unnumbered, it is 
 pressing on its way around some remote sun 
 which no man's eyes have ever yet beheld, 
 in an orbit Avhich only tlie cycles of the ages 
 can complete. Our life is to be after this 
 double pattern. We are to repeat those things 
 which eacit day demands; yet, as we do them, we 
 are to press our way around some distant centre 
 in an endless course. There are certain things 
 which must be done day after day, ns long as we 
 live. The necessities of life are continually recur- 
 ring and with very little change ; and there comes 
 to us a great economy of time because we acquire 
 great facility in execution, through this continual 
 repetition, until they demand very little thought, 
 and to do them becomes almost a second nature, 
 or the instinctive work of life. The great danger 
 is not tliat we shall neglect these things, though 
 possibly we need a word of admonition at that 
 point, and to be reminded that we are not to 
 despise the things which are small, the common 
 daily duties, those things without which life would 
 be out of joint, and nothing great could be accom- 
 plished. The very monotony of life marks the 
 stability of purpose and method which we have 
 
TUBNING NORTIIWABD. 165 
 
 learned of God. But the greater danger is, that 
 we shall mistake this continual movement for an 
 advance, and shall think that we are doing all 
 which really is required of us, and all that we can 
 do for ourselves, if we are continually busy. If 
 all the while we are doing something, and that 
 something is a useful thing, we may assume that 
 we are fulfilling the great end of life. So we 
 shall settle down into that which is simple and 
 monotonous, and never advance, however much 
 the years may come within our reach ; reading as 
 we have read, feeling as we have felt, going 
 through life with the same design, and filling up 
 the life that comes to us out of the same methods 
 with the life that has passed from us. 
 
 I think we hear to-da}', as the je^r closes, the 
 voice of God speaking to us, not as the children 
 of Israel, not as any special men and women in 
 any special time, but speaking that which men all 
 the ages through have needed to hear ; the sum- 
 mons of God to something more, bidding us press 
 on to that which is still beyond us, if so be we 
 may make life greater than it is. It is unques- 
 tionably true that we have trodden the rounds of 
 another twelvemonth, every one of us. It is cer- 
 tainly true that we have slept and waked, we have 
 been eating and drinking, we have gone forth to 
 our work in the morning, and we have come home 
 at night, we have filled up the months, and we 
 think we have been very much engaged. It is a 
 
16G CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 doubtful matter, at the best, whether we have 
 simply been treading round and round in the same 
 little circle, or whether we have succeeded in tak- 
 ing one step beyond our past. This is the last 
 day of the year — of what year? This year of 
 grace which we call 1S82. Is it also the last day 
 of 1881, 1880, 1879, 1859? Is it the same old end- 
 ing of a year which finds us still tracing the same 
 circle ? If we are not wiser than we were a year 
 ago, if we are not stronger for God and ourselves, 
 this is not the close of 1882 much more than it is 
 the close of 1881, or 1880 ; and so far as advance 
 and profit is concerned, we might almost as well 
 have slept through the months, to have been 
 aroused by the new year's bell, which tells that 
 the train is pushing on from another station along 
 the same dull track. It is such a different thing 
 to exist and to breathe, and to reckon tlie days by 
 the calendar, and to "grow old,'' as we say, from 
 what it is to grow better and stronger, to make 
 the world feel your presence, and to win the favor 
 of Heaven, that it comes as a word of benediction 
 while it is a word of summons to our spirits : " Ye 
 have compassed this mountain long enough ; you 
 have done these things long enough; you have 
 had these methods, and hopes, and desires long 
 enough ; you are too old to keep them ; life is too 
 great for you to maintain them ; turn you north- 
 ward into something better than you have done, 
 and into something greater than you are." 
 
TURNING NORTHWARD. 167 
 
 If I may indicate one or two points in which 
 this advance may be made, merely touching them, 
 it is that w^e may see liow it is possible to enhirge 
 our life. First, in the way of knowledge. We 
 ought, in this coming year — for it is of the year 
 to come, and not of the year that has gone, that 
 I speak — to enlarge our knowledge. We 
 shall be reading : we ought to read better books, 
 a higher grade of books ; as our children will pass 
 on to books which are more advanced, so ought 
 we who are older. There are books which will task 
 the energies of any one of us. We ought to grow 
 w^iser by that which we read. If it is simply read- 
 ing the paper which is no more to-day than it was 
 yesterday ; if it is reading the current gossip which 
 does not change in character from year to year, if 
 it is not taking hold of something which will en- 
 large the substance of our knowledge, then we 
 shall read to very little purpose. We enlarge our 
 knowledge, too, by talking with men. We ought 
 to associate with better men, if we can, than those 
 who have surrounded us. We certainly can asso- 
 ciate with the wisest men, and wdien they are at 
 their best, if we will take their books, if we will 
 take the influence of their lives as it comes to us 
 through their works. Out of this will come in 
 that which shall strengthen our own knowledge, 
 enlarge our own minds. To think how many good 
 men are waiting for us if we will break from 
 frivolous companions; to think how many grand 
 
168 CAMBRIDGE SER3I0NS. 
 
 books are waiting patiently for us that we may 
 take tliem up and take their wisdom into us ; this 
 should make us feel that there is something to be 
 learned, and something which we ought to learn. 
 
 But passing from knowledge to work, we can 
 enlarge our work. Very likely we can enlarge our 
 common work ; enlarge the volume of it. It is 
 almost certain that we can enlarge the character 
 of it, taking on some things which are higher, and 
 in advance of those which we have done. We 
 can enlarge our charitable work as it reaches out 
 to bless the world, if we have gained that secret 
 of all true living, that we are in the world and 
 taught of God that we may bless the world ; and 
 that the gains of life come to us not to be kept, 
 but to be shared with others. 
 
 Again, take the matter of character. We can 
 keep the character we have to-day, which is reason- 
 ably honest, and amiable, and pleasant, which 
 does not very much reproach us, or draw to us the 
 reproach of others ; or we can strengthen that 
 character. We can enlarge our conscience, we 
 can broaden our reason, we can get a stronger and 
 fuller grasp upon truth, we can get a higher and 
 holier sense of duty, we can get hold of the very 
 meaning of life, we can ask and answer the pro- 
 found inquiries,'' Why am I here? Why has God 
 in his mercy kept me out of my grave for an- 
 other year ? Why do I look with bold eyes down 
 these opening months ? " We can enlarge 
 
TURNING NOBTUWARD. 109 
 
 the purposes of life, tlie motives which shall con- 
 trol life. We can enlarge the desire of life ; that 
 which shall give its support and its charac- 
 ter to the very soul and heart which lies behind 
 that which we are doing before men. Thus our 
 manhood shall grow by the continual accession of 
 truth, and the continual performance of duty. 
 
 Finally, we can enlarge our religion, on the side 
 of its worship and on the side of its work. It is 
 not enough to tread the round of Sabbaths and to 
 come and go through the gates of the sanctuary; 
 it is not enough to have stated hours of prayer 
 and holy communion, and to be content with these. 
 We can enUirge religious experience until it is 
 deeper and broader. We can enlarge religious 
 work until it tells more for good upon the world. 
 Prayer should be to us what it has never been, and 
 the Bible more than it ever has been; these varied 
 means of grace, wliich are the summons to duty, 
 should give to us that largeness of spirit and that 
 greatness of religious accomplishment w^hich shall 
 make us more like the Son of God and the 
 Saviour of men. We ought to outgrow that 
 weakness which makes our religion chiefly regard 
 ourselves. That momentous question which is 
 asked so often, and for which sometimes we claim 
 merit, was the question of a frightened Pagan. We 
 oueht to have outo^rown it. There is no one of us 
 who should not have left it behind him years ago : 
 " What must I do to be saved ? " Have we not 
 
170 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 answered that, and taken the answer practically 
 into our lives ? Tliat question should be changed 
 into the affirmation of the Son of God, which 
 reaches be3^ond the question which looks to our 
 own salvation, and teaches the divine motive of 
 all worthy living, " Father, I have glorified thee 
 upon the earth : I have finished the work which 
 thou gavest me to do." 
 
 It is evident that in these four respects which T 
 have named, we can gain accessions of that which 
 is valuable to us without making any advance. 
 Thus, we can enlarge our knowledge without 
 enlarging our manhood. We may be just as 
 selfish after we have doubled our learning as we 
 were before ; and unless we grow less selfish, we 
 do not grow more manly. Manhood is not high 
 learning ; the tree of knowledge never has been, 
 and never can be, the tree of life. He who thinks 
 he is fulfilling his life by increasing his knowledge, 
 has made the fearful mistake of supposing that 
 the value of things is in their bulk. The value of 
 things is in their character, not their size. So, 
 passing from knowledge into work, we still ma}^ 
 enlarge our work without growing any greater or 
 making any advance. That work may still keep 
 its old centre, the self. I may increase my busi- 
 ness because I shall get more profit ; I may 
 increase my benevolence because it ministers more 
 to my pleasure. Thus I have enlarged my life, 
 but I have not enlarged myself; I have moved no 
 
TURNING NORTUWARD. 171 
 
 nearer to God. Indeed, it is possible for benevo- 
 lence itself to make us selfish, centring our 
 thoughts more on ourselves, until we admire that 
 which we are doing, when we should be looking 
 up to Him who is the giver of all grace. It is the 
 same with character itself. We may get a knowl- 
 edge of truth ; we may nourish our conscience and 
 our virtuous life, and still not break with that 
 centre ; still it may be all for ourselves. To say, " I 
 must be better in order that I may be happier," is 
 as selfish as to say, " I must be richer in order to 
 be happier." Character must look on beyond it- 
 self ; I must advance, breaking with this little 
 circle, or I have not grown much in character. It 
 is very much the same, strange as it may seem, 
 even with religion. The centre of my religion 
 may still be my heart and my happiness j and as 
 long as I keep it there I have not made any great 
 advance. Indeed, I may pray more, " Lord bless 
 me ; " I may learn to emphasize the '^ me ; " I 
 may grow willing even to repeat the "me " oftener 
 than I have ; and m}^ prayer be as selfish as it was 
 before, and I not a better man. It is when I can 
 break with tliis, and look to something beyond, 
 getting another centre for this widening circumfer- 
 ence of my life, that I have made an advance. 
 
 Thus the call of God here by his prophet to-day 
 is, " Turn you northward. You have compassed 
 this mountain long enough ; you have stopped 
 on these things which you are doing and this way 
 
172 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS, 
 
 of doing things long enough ; you have had this 
 measure of experience long enough; you have 
 been as good as you are quite long enough. Now 
 turn northward." Well, brethren, where is north- 
 ward ? It is an interesting fact, physically, that 
 northward is always up — at least, in all our rep- 
 resentations of it — from the time the boy looks 
 to find the north upon liis map and finds it at the 
 top of the map, to the time when the man looks 
 up into the heavens for the North Star. Upward, 
 Godward ; that is north. The only north is where 
 the immovable throne of God stands. The}^ tell us 
 that the star which we call the North Star is contin- 
 ually changing, and that the time is coming when 
 the mariner must take another star. The un- 
 changing star which marks the true north is the 
 star which stands over the place where He is 
 enthroned who was tlie little child beneath the 
 star which led the wise men to his manger. 
 
 It is a call of wonderful power, this which tells us 
 that we may go on to something greater than we 
 are. We are to do this; we are to go on nearer to 
 God — nearer to God in our thought, in our pur- 
 pose, in our life. Or, if that seems too general, we 
 are to go on to that which God has designed for 
 us. It is not very much to say, but it is a stupen- 
 dous thing to do. We are to fill up the measure of 
 manhood ; not to be gods, not to be angels, but to 
 be men ; to do that which we were made to do, 
 the whole of it; to know all that we can know, to 
 
TURNING NORTHWARD. 173 
 
 do all that we can do, to be all that we can be, 
 Cfoino' on until we attain unto the measure of the 
 stature of the fulness of the Christ. 
 
 In what way does this thought appeal to us this 
 morning? If you will tell me, I will tell you how 
 old you are. If this thouglit of being a great deal 
 more than you are oppresses you, then you are 
 old, no matter wliat the family record may say. 
 If you have no tliought of going on beyond where 
 you are to-day, then the years are upon you. If, 
 on the other hand, you are receiving with gratifi- 
 cation the thought that you can be more ; if you 
 feel stirred by it ; if already in the midst of this 
 service you find a new purpose coming up ; — "I 
 will be more, I will do more in the year to come," 
 your hair may be gray, but you are a young man. 
 The only measure of age is heart, and the measure 
 of heart is hope. When hope is dead, a man is 
 old; when hope is alive, a man is young. So 
 taught tlie prophet when he said, " They that 
 wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength ; 
 they shall mount up with wings as eagles, they 
 shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and 
 not faint." There is something, if we are .young 
 enough for it, which is quickening, ennobling, stim- 
 ulating, and most pleasant to us in this thought. 
 We feel the power of it ; we are moved to greater 
 action. There is perhaps no great movement of 
 life which is not toward some great ideal, or under 
 some large influence. To keep the store tliis year 
 
174 CAMBBIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 as we did the last is too jDetty a thing for any 
 man's ambition. To go through the rounds of 
 professional life this year as last, is a dull thing for 
 anybody to do. To read the papers this year as 
 last; to read the same books, or the same kind of 
 books, over and over ; to go and come among 
 the same associa°tes, having the same grade of con- 
 versation; and to be, when another year ends, un- 
 certain whether it is the end of that year, or the 
 last year, it is dry and hard. No Avonder a man 
 says, " Life is vanity of vanities, and what is the 
 use of living ? ■' No wonder men say sometimes 
 under their breath, " I wish I was dead." What 
 is there to live for when there is no hope, and 
 where is the hope if it is not in the thought of being 
 more to-morrow than we are to-day? 
 
 The king asked the artist who liad taught him to 
 play, and Ole Bull answered, " The mountains of 
 Norway, your Majesty." The mountains of 
 Norwa}^ poured their spirit into his willing spirit ; 
 the voices of Norway, rolUng from its cliffs and 
 sounding from its valleys, whispering in its pines, 
 and murmuring in its seas, ran sounding and thrill- 
 ing along the strings he" touched, until the heart of 
 the world answered to his heart. Who teaches a 
 man to be great? A great thought of God. 
 What makes him diligent in service? I ask a 
 man, and he answers: A great thought of charac- 
 ter taught me how much I can be ; a magnificent 
 thought of service showed me how much I can do> 
 
TURNING NORTHWARD. 175 
 
 I was waked to it ; I was summoned by it; I 
 heard it in God's providence ; I listened to it in 
 God's house ; that I might break with m3^self, — 
 break the very centre of my life ; that I miglit push 
 on to higher employments and greater accomplish- 
 ments ; that I might have a more profound and 
 blessed experience. When I heard God say how 
 great I might be, and how great things I might do 
 for liim ; how large a manhood I might fulfil and 
 hoAV much of divinity I might possess, then the 
 " mountains of Norway " taught me to live, and I 
 live in the life that evermore grows into the 
 stature of the divine fulness. It was thus that 
 St. Paul became great. It was a continual en- 
 largement of his life. Not content with treading 
 the streets of Tarsus, from school to school, he 
 pressed his way to Jerusalem ; not satisfied with 
 the added schools of Jerusalem, or to wander 
 through the intricacies and subtilties of Hebrew 
 jurisprudence, he pressed on his way still, keeping 
 all of good which he had learned, until he heard 
 God's voice before the gate of Damascus : " O, 
 Saul, Saul, thou hast trodden this petty round long 
 enough ; turn northward ; " and he went out to 
 that magnificent career. It was so with jMoses. 
 After his long years in Pharaoh's palace, going 
 round within the halls, he pressed on into the wil- 
 derness; he was forty years in the wilderness 
 keeping sheep, until at last the voice of God came 
 to him, speaking out of the bush that burned and 
 
176 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 was not consumed, " Thou hast compassed this 
 mountain long enough, turn northward -, " and he 
 went down to become one of the leading statesmen 
 of the world. It was so with our Lord's disciples ; 
 fishermen from their youth, fishing this year quite 
 as well as last, next year as well as this, until the 
 voice of the Lord found them ; " Simon, son of 
 Jonas, John, James, Andrew, Thomas — you have 
 compassed the Sea of Galilee with your boats long 
 enough: turn northward, follow me and I will 
 make you fishers." — "But, Lord, we are already 
 fishermen ; we do not think we can learn skill in 
 fishing from a carpenter." " Follow me, and I 
 will make you fishers of men ; turn northward, 
 beyond the Sea of Galilee, beyond the hsh that 
 swim in their multitudes through its depths, and 
 you shall gather men." 
 
 This is the summons of Christ to us. The 
 beginning of it must be as we hear his voice, and 
 answer to it — Christ's voice, calling and inspiring 
 us for higher and holier things. If any one asks 
 "• What am I to do ? " there is always but one 
 answer ; " You are to "begin, and to begin as you 
 ought to begin." One great reason why we never 
 advance wisely, is because we never begin wisely. 
 
 Begin with God; give yourself to God here, to 
 Christ here. " Lord, I take thee," that is right. 
 " I take thee for my Saviour," that is one thing 
 never to be given up. " I take thee for my 
 Master," — that is an endless beginning; then 
 
TURNING NOBTIlWAllI). 177 
 
 in obedience to him, press on. "I love him, I 
 serve him, I follow where he leads me." It is 
 thus that we go on to a high and holy living, and 
 to the eternal reward. 
 
 There are one or two thouglits touching this 
 life that we are living wliich I should like to add to 
 what I have already said. We need to-day, per- 
 haps we need every day, to get a juster view of 
 life. We are very familiar with it, and yet how 
 little we know about it. It is such a simple thing 
 to live, to keep going and coming, and coming and 
 going. More rational, intelligent views of life 
 will certainly very greatly change our lives. We 
 ought to look upon life as full of opportunity. 
 We say we are entering upon a new year, and a 
 new year is a great thing. I know how brief a 
 year seems as we look back upon it ; but there is 
 a great deal of time in a year. It is most superfi- 
 cial to say that a year is a very small piece of life ; 
 it is a large piece of life. Three hundred days and 
 more*, three hundred days wherein we can be mak- 
 ing our will stronger for God ; three hundred days 
 in which we can be doing good in the world ; serv- 
 ing Christ, loving Christ ; three hundred days with 
 their hours over God's word, in the closet and in 
 the sanctuary ; three hundred days with their 
 Sabbaths for the church, and the ministry and the 
 work of the church ! Why, it is a grand thing, a 
 sublime thing to have so much time. Time is to 
 be regarded as opportunity ; not as something 
 
178 CAMBBIDQE SERMONS. 
 
 which we are to receive simply as a matter with 
 which we have nothing to do, but to let it come to 
 us as the wind comes blowing about us. We are 
 to take it rather as the wind comes to the sailor 
 who finds he has a use for it ; who cares very much 
 whether the wind blows or not, and which way it 
 blows. They tell us sometimes that life is like 
 a stream. It seems a very apt comparison, these 
 years are passing on so rapidly. But we are not to 
 stand upon the bank of this stream and look out 
 upon it, and think of the waves, and the rapidity 
 of the current, and whither the waters are hurry- 
 ing so fast. We are to feel that we are to enter 
 upon this stream and to use it. We are not to be 
 taken up by it, as the stream takes up the tree which 
 has fallen upon its bank and carries it on whither- 
 soever it will. We are not to go upon it as the 
 raft goes, a few timbers hastily fastened together 
 to last a few days until something else shall be 
 found, or we shall strike some island beyond. We 
 are not to go upon it as the boat goes, simply to 
 be drifted down as the tide runs ; nor as the ferry- 
 boat, which sails equally well in all directions, and, 
 with a continual movement, never makes much of 
 a voyage. I think we are rather to go as the ship 
 goes, which looses from its moorings and turns its 
 prow towards the distant port, with a strong hand 
 at the helm, the chart spread out and the compass 
 lighted day and night, while it seeks boldly its 
 way across the wide seas to its appointed haven. 
 
TURNING NORTHWARD. 179 
 
 They tell us that life is a vapor. So it is. 
 That means more than it did when St. James 
 wrote the word. Almost the mightiest force in the 
 world to-day is vapor. Condense it, heat it, and 
 it makes the ship fly from shore to shore. Put it 
 in its place, and it turns the ponderous machinery 
 of the factory and clothes the land. Life is 
 vapor; thin, transparent; passing away into the 
 clouds. The good man's life is vapor held, 
 heated, used ; made a power that makes the world 
 move. The value of life is to be found in what we 
 do with it. As I have intimated already, the 
 measure of life is in that which we do in life. 
 There is nothing that is more futile and deceptive 
 than the attempt to measure life by years. It was 
 one of the profound remarks of a wise man, that 
 " Time is not the measure of life, but life is the 
 measure of time." He taught the students how 
 to make the sun stand still by putting the work of 
 two days into one. " By crowding the year with 
 generous purposes, virtuous efforts and noble sac- 
 rifices." The only hours of the last year which 
 are of mucli account are those in which we 
 advanced ; the moments in which we moved for- 
 ward ; the days in which we learned something ; 
 the days in which you did something are the real 
 time. The rest has vanished like the morning 
 cloud. 
 
 Do I ask, then, that there may come to us a 
 higher and a holier life, and that there may be 
 
180 CAMBBIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 taken upon ns more work and better work? I 
 know the res]3onse at once ; that we are over- 
 worked already. The answer is too easily made. 
 It is somewhat significant that the men who talk 
 the most about our overAVork, do not appear to be 
 very much overworked themselves. It is the 
 overwork of somebody else, usually, which they 
 are talking about. It is too often the case that 
 the people who are afraid of too much work are 
 those who are fond of their beds. I do not find 
 the best working men of our day complaining that 
 there is too much to do, and that men are wearing 
 out too fast. They believe that God gives a man 
 strength for duty, and that when a man can no 
 longer work, he has no longer any need to live. 
 God gives us what we can do, and we are to take 
 it and do it. Still, are we not very busy, are we 
 not engaged every moment, so that there seems no 
 room to put in anything else? Very likely; I 
 think it is so with most of us ; but I do not see 
 that this has much to do with the question before 
 us. Suppose we do not enlarge the volume of our 
 work, but only the character of it. Can you not 
 drop some things which you are doing and take 
 on better things ? St. Paul said, " When I was a 
 child, I tliought as a child, I spake as a child ;" but 
 when he became a man, lie found that he had not 
 room enough for childish things and manly things 
 too, and he gave up childish things, and took on 
 those which suited his years. When he was to 
 
TURNING NOBTHWARD. 181 
 
 run a race, he forgot the things which were behind; 
 he pat off the things that troubled and beset him ; 
 not because his raiment was not good, but because 
 he could not run with it. I have no doubt tluit 
 every one of us is carrying many things which are 
 taking up his time, but which he might well 
 enough let alone, because he has outgrown them. 
 What are the engrossing demands of my life, is a 
 simple question for every one to ask. Are there 
 not things which have taken hours of the last 
 year for which we are too old, which we ought to 
 have left behind us while we turned to something 
 better ; tlnngs which somebody else who was 
 3'ounger, who had not been taught of God so 
 long, could do just as well? I think that it is so, 
 and I believe that we can be continually dropping 
 the easier and the smaller things to our children, 
 to young men and to young women, while we 
 take up those which are more fitting our years, 
 and go on and do them steadfastly to the end. 
 The glory of our life will be just there ; it is when 
 we do something we have never done before, and 
 something better than we have done before, that 
 we are making an advance. 
 
 It was asked concerning a great artist once, 
 " Wherein is it that he excels ? " The reply was, 
 " He begins where other people end." We cannot 
 all do that, for tlicre are some men who never seem 
 to end their advance. But every man can begin 
 where he himself had ended. We can begin where 
 
182 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 we have already stopped. There is something more 
 which we can do for the world ; something more 
 for God ; something more for our own life. It 
 may require giving up some things which are tak- 
 ing our time ; but our vows to the Church, and our 
 duties in the Church, and our duties to God and 
 to the world, we can meet by laying aside the 
 poorer things for the better ones ; by compassing 
 the mountain no longer ; by taking up that which 
 is real and pressing our way forward. 
 
 This is my greeting to-day. Once again do I 
 wish you sincerely a '' Happy New Year." Per- 
 haps we have compassed these words long enough. 
 Let me put my wish into other words ; and they 
 shall be two sentences from two great men. The 
 one speaks the word of God out of the Old 
 Scriptures, and the other out of the New. This, 
 brethren beloved, is my wish for the New Year : 
 
 " Ye have compassed this mountain long 
 enough ; turn you northward." 
 
 "If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those 
 things which are above." 
 
X. 
 
 WHAT MUST I DO? 
 
 Scripture Lesson : Acts viii : 26-40. 
 
 Text : What must I do to be saved ? Acts xvi : 30. 
 
 IT is a question of interest to us all. It con- 
 cerns any who are not saved ; it concerns all 
 who are saved, because it is our duty to save 
 others. The question asked in a prison has 
 been repeated througli the world. The answer 
 joined to it has gaiued nothing, lost nothing, 
 as the years have passed by, and it has done 
 its work of mercy, "blessing him who gives 
 and him who takes." There is but one answer to 
 the question. The apostle and his companion had 
 been pursuing their work in Philippi, that Mace- 
 donian, Grecian, Roman city. They had stirred 
 up the anger of the people and the avarice of 
 those who were gaining gold by an unlawful ser- 
 vice. They had been seized by the mob, dragged 
 to the market-place and delivered to the mag- 
 istrates, who stripped them of their robes, beat 
 them with rods, and committed them to the 
 
 183 
 
184 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 care of the jailer who thrust them into the inner 
 prison and made their feet fast in the stocks. At 
 midnight they prayed and sang their praises unto 
 God. They sang, as it were, a " new song ; " it 
 was new to them, for this was a new experience. 
 They sang one of the songs in the night. The 
 book of Psahns, with which they were familiar 
 from their cliildhood, abounds in hymns which would 
 be appropriate at such a time. We are at a loss 
 to know what they selected for their worship and 
 prayer. It may be that they sang the song of 
 Asaph, as it is in the seventy-ninth Psalm : " Let 
 the sighing of the prisoner come before thee ; ac- 
 cording to the greatness of thy power preserve 
 thou those who are appointed to die." The pris- 
 oners were hearing them, and the Lord heard them ; 
 and the prison walls were shaken and the doors 
 opened ; every man's bands were loosed ; and the 
 keeper awoke and drew his sword, and would have 
 killed himself had not the apostle preserved his 
 life ; when the man, calling for lights, plunged into 
 the darkness which had been bright enough for 
 better men, and, falling at the feet of his captives, 
 said, " Lords, what must I do to be saved ? " " Be- 
 lieve on the Lord," answered St. Paul, " and thou 
 shalt be saved." And he believed and committed 
 himself to God's mercy ; he listened to the word 
 of the apostle ; he was baptized ; he washed the 
 stripes of his prisoners ; " he set meat before them, 
 and rejoiced, believing in God with all his house." 
 
WHAT MUST I BO f 185 
 
 It was a famous place. On the broad plains of 
 Philippi had been fought the battle upon "whose 
 issue hung the empire of the world. There Bru- 
 tus and Cassius had sought to restore the common- 
 wealth, building it on the bleeding corse of Ca3sar. 
 There the dream of a republic had ended, and 
 Roman liberty had itself been slain. It is not 
 strange that in that defeat, that destruction of all 
 his hopes, the last of the Romans killed himself by 
 the hand of his freedman, and that Brutus fell on 
 Strato's sword. The evil genius of Brutus, which 
 had promised aforetime to meet him at Philippi, 
 had met him there, and there had come the final 
 destruction of his hope. The only remedy for 
 despair was suicide. It is not strange that this 
 jailer, familiar with this remedy of greater men in 
 their desperation, sought through the gate which 
 it opened deliverance from the terrors which envi- 
 roned him. But a better genius than that of Bru- 
 tus was there. The apostle of Christ was there ; 
 the Spirit of God was there, in the heart of the 
 apostle, in the heart of the jailer ; and it meant 
 not death, but life ; not defeat, but victory. His 
 character and his hope were erected into the 
 stately fabric of everlasting life. 
 
 We are impressed here with the temperate man- 
 ner of the greatest of men ; with the calmness of 
 his demeanor ; with the masterful spirit which is 
 in him. Tliis is the same man wlio, a little later, 
 kept a frightened ship's crew in subjection, and 
 
186 CAMBRIDGE SEBMONS. 
 
 controlled tlie soldiers who were carrying him to 
 his death. This man, with the prison doors 
 opened and the prisoners startled and ready to flee, 
 in all the tumult of that midnight hour held them, 
 we may believe, by the dignity of his presence, by 
 the authority of his voice, by the supremacy of 
 his will, asserting that manhood, which, though 
 cast down, is not destroyed, and when thrown 
 into perplexity never sinks into despair ; wearing 
 that royalty which nothing can take away ; the 
 royalty wherewith he had been crowned by Him 
 who makes men kings and priests. 
 
 Not all the water in the rough rude sea, 
 Can wash the balm from an annointed kins. 
 
 This question of the jailer was admirably put. 
 We can hardly imagine the various constituents 
 which must enter into such an inquiry better 
 arranged than in these words which were driven 
 from him in the excitement of that hour. He had 
 brought the question to the right place. He 
 might have searched the "world over and never 
 found a man to whom the question could be so 
 fittingly addressed as it came from the heart 
 which asked it to the heart which could answer it. 
 How common experiences bring us to a level! 
 What matter what one's age, or estate, or condi- 
 tion in life, in a sinking ship, in a burning house, a 
 shattered prison ; in the presence of God, Jehovah 
 of hosts ! It was but seventeen years before, 
 when the man who heard this question, himself 
 
WHAT MUST I DO? 187 
 
 affrighted, thrown to the ground, confronted with 
 the Lord who stood before this jailer, uttered the 
 same inquiry. Wliat Saul of Tarsus had asked at 
 the gate of Damascus, this jailer asked within the 
 prison of Philippi. What the Lord had answered 
 to Saul of Tarsus, the Lord answered to the jailer; 
 and he who had spoken to the apostle, gave him 
 the grace to repeat the answer which needed no 
 enlargement, which falls with all its power from 
 human lips, because it is the word of the Christ, 
 and not the man. This man was able to repeat 
 that which had come to him, and to point his 
 brother, his fellow-sinner, to the redemption which 
 had availed for him, and which, through the years 
 since, he had been ministering unto others, as he 
 was to do through the years to come, until he laid 
 his head upon the block. It is one of the instruc- 
 tive coincidences of Holy Scripture, that a ques- 
 tion which Saul of Tarsus had asked so long 
 before, and whose answer ]ic had received and 
 acted upon ever afterAvards, should be asked of 
 him by this Pagan, and should be answered by him 
 as it was answered to him, " an Hebrew of the 
 Hebrews." There is but one answer. He who would 
 be saved must believe on the Lord Jesus Christ. 
 The eternities shall roll away, but that direction 
 will remain ; and no man shall be saved, but by 
 the grace of God which is in Jesus Christ his Son. 
 Who to-day intrusts himself to it, to-day is saved. 
 But the question itself, if we separate it word 
 
188 CAMBBIBGE SERMONS. 
 
 from word, brings together those elements which 
 should enter into the inquiry: "What must I 
 do ; " not these prisoners, not the rulers, not the 
 emperor ; " what must I do ? " One has not come 
 seriously to look at any duty until he stands alone 
 with God. I have not seen my duty until I have 
 seen it as my duty, and do not know other men 
 in it. " What must I do ? " Not what should I 
 prefer to do ; but what is it necessary that I should 
 do ? Among the divine and everlasting truths of 
 God which move on forever, what is the way to 
 which I must conform my life, if I would be 
 saved ? " What must I do ? " Not, in what way 
 may I drift into life ? Not, how long may I live 
 before, like a broken ship thrown upon the waves, 
 I am dashed upon some island in the sea ? Not, 
 when shall the mercy of God, without any cov- 
 enant, through the slow wearing on of the ages, 
 move me into salvation? What must I do in 
 order that I maybe saved ? "What must I do to he 
 sa2;e<i I"' Not, to save myself, but to be saved; to 
 come into that condition in which I shall be saved 
 by another, — I, who cannot save myself. 
 
 With what force this man asks this question. 
 It seems a strange inquiry to come from such a 
 man, at such a time, with such surroundings. It 
 is very plain that he did not mean, " What shall 
 I do to be saved from this terror, this present 
 peril ? " He knew the rigor of Roman law. 
 But surely he could not feel himself to blame 
 
WHA T MUST I DO? 189 
 
 because there had been an earthquake shiikiiig the 
 prison. He could not accuse himself of deserting 
 his trust, for his prisoners were all there. If there 
 were anything to result from that excitement it 
 would seem to be his advancement. A jailer who, 
 under those circumstances, could keep his prison- 
 ers safe, and the next morning show them to the 
 authorities, miglit expect promotion under the 
 government, if promotion follows merit. But he 
 had seen God and was troubled ; what should he 
 do? 
 
 This word salvation had become familiar in 
 Philippi. A damsel, filled with a spirit of divina- 
 tion, day by day had followed Paul and Silas as 
 they went to prayer, and cried out after them 
 with the spirit of a prophetess, " These men are 
 the servants of the most high God, which show 
 unto us the way of salvation, and this did she 
 many days." Day after day, " salvation," " salva- 
 tion ; " " which show unto us the way of salvation," 
 went ringing along the streets of Philippi until 
 St. Paul commanded the spirit to come out of her. 
 Then her masters caused her deliverers to be 
 beaten and imprisoned. It may be that this man 
 had heard the frenzied girl. He knew what she 
 had said. He saw the men whom she fol- 
 lowed, and her masters accused, rescued by their 
 God, wlien he had made their feet fast in tlie 
 stocks. Salvation as a word liad become familiar 
 to him. In the presence of God it became a neces- 
 
190 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 sity as a fact. We are not to think of this man 
 as rough and rude beyond liis fellows. Doubtless 
 he was of good repute. He would not have been 
 intrusted with so responsible a position as this, in 
 a place of so great account, had he not been a man 
 of intelligence and honesty and ability. He had 
 not beaten Paul and Silas ; he had thrust them 
 into the inner prison because he was so commanded. 
 There is no sign of any harshness on his part to- 
 wards them, save as he obeyed the orders of his 
 superiors. What is a man to do when the court 
 delivers a prisoner to his keeping, but to obey the 
 behest of the court. May we not think, too, that 
 this man, intelligent as he was, who seems, as he 
 appears at last as the head of a family, to have 
 had those gentler qualities which commend our 
 common human nature, perhaps had the thought 
 of God in his mind before ? There has been found 
 now and then — sad that it has been so seldom — 
 a man among the heathen in whom God has 
 kept his witness; who has the thought of 
 God, who has the desire for a better life, 
 who would fain be at peace with him who 
 rules in the armies of heaven and among the 
 inhabitants of the earth. There is no intima- 
 tion that this was such a man. But it is 
 clear that he knew that the great God was there 
 in the prison. He had come to rescue his men. 
 What should the jailer do in the presence of one 
 at whose tread the stones rattled in the wall? 
 
WfIA T MUST I DO? 191 
 
 Plainly there was but one thing for him to do, and 
 that was Avhat the apostles pointed out to him. 
 " What must I do to be saved " from this God who 
 is here ; this God of power, in whose hands I am ? 
 You arc reminded of that incident in St. Peter's 
 life when, brouglit face to face with the power of 
 God, and startled by the miracle of Cln-ist, feeling 
 his own unworthiness, afraid to stand in such a 
 presence, he cried, " Depart from me ; for I am a 
 sinftd man, O Lord." " For he was astonished, 
 and all that were with him." This man was 
 amazed, and affrighted; he saw God and his might. 
 God was there, sliaking the very foundations of 
 his prison, and taking his prisoners out of his 
 hand. He was afraid ; afraid in the presence of the 
 Almighty, whose breath might remove him from 
 the earth. 
 
 Now, what answer must the apostle give to 
 a question like this ? " What shall I do that I 
 may be saved and brought into the favor of God 
 who is here ? " There is but one answer. If this 
 man is to be saved, he must in some way become 
 rig] it with God. He must submit his life to God, 
 and enter the company of those who obey 
 him and on whom liis approval rests and abides 
 forever. The apostle summoned him to God. 
 Let us mark the simplicity of that which the 
 apostle said. He called tlio man to the obedience 
 of God. We often discuss this question of salva- 
 tion on side issues, and oftentimes very blindly. 
 
192 CAMBBIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 We reason as if God is there, with his justice 
 and law, and Christ is here with his redemption ; 
 so that if one has gone away from God and dis- 
 obeyed him, he must find the mercy of Christ and 
 trust himself to that. But where are righteous- 
 ness and piety on this plan ? The apostle called 
 this man back to God himself. He must submit 
 to God and take up his duty from the hands 
 of God. There is no salvation without that. But 
 if he comes to God, in what attitude shall he find 
 him ? Must he come to the law-giver ? But he 
 had broken the commands. Must he come to a 
 God who is simply almighty? But that power 
 was likely to destroy him. If he found favor with 
 God at all, it must be because God was merciful 
 towards him. God in mercy is the God whom he 
 must find. First he must find God; secondly, 
 he must find God in mercy, willing to forgive and 
 to restore; willing to take liim into his service 
 again ; and thirdly, having found God in mercy, 
 he must take up the commands of God and go 
 steadfastly and patiently on, doing the will of 
 God. 
 
 May I repeat these three things ? This man, if 
 he is to be saved, must come to God, and give 
 himself to him. Secondly, lie must come to God 
 as he is in mercy ; and thirdly, he must come 
 to God in mercy to render to him the obedience 
 and devotion of his life. Why, then, did the 
 apostle say, " Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ ? " 
 
WUAT 3IUST I DO? 193 
 
 Because tlie Lord Jesus Christ is the mercy of 
 God. Tlie name of God's mercy on the earth is 
 Christ. That fine line of Faber may come to 
 your mind : 
 
 Jesus, God's love, is crucified. 
 
 This is mercy. God's love beyond the heavens 
 can do nothing for us unless it reaches where Ave 
 are ; and when God's love reaches where we are it 
 is mercy; and God's mercy where we are is named 
 Jesus Christ, his Son. You find the mercy when 
 you find him ; you find him when you find the 
 mercy. 
 
 Let us then feel that this answers the question ; 
 that we come into the mercy of God as it is in 
 Christ Jesus our Lord ; and then, having come 
 into the mercy, we take our duty from Christ's 
 lips and go on to follow him to the end. 
 
 Dropping all that is local and temporal, passing 
 away from Philippi and its prison which has 
 become the school for so many penitent hearts, we 
 will notice these things, which have no limitation 
 of time or of place, but which come in all their 
 reality to us to-day. What must a man do to 
 be saved ? Suffer me to answer it once more as I 
 have already. A man to be saved, must come into 
 the approval of God. When God says you are 
 right, then you are saved ; as long as God says 
 you are wrong, you are lost. When God's mercy 
 
194 CAMBBIBGE SERMONS. 
 
 covers you, you are saved ; when you are without 
 that mere}', you are lost. When you are doing 
 God's will, you are saved ; when it is not the law 
 of your life to do God's will, you are lost. There 
 is no salvation for a man except in doing the will 
 of God ; and " he that doeth the will of God 
 abide th forever." This is the essential thing:. 
 
 When the thought is borne in upon us, as it 
 often is, that there must be something done for our 
 salvation, there are three courses^ which we may 
 take. The first^^course, and perhaps the rarer, is 
 despair. " There is no hope, no ; for I have loved 
 strangers, and after them will I go." One may 
 say, " I have done wrong and there is no forgive- 
 ness for me ; I am surrounded by the world, I am 
 entangled in its toils ; there is no help for me." I 
 think that is not very common. A second course, 
 much more common, perhaps more perilous, is to 
 attempt, by some sort of compromise, to effect that 
 which can only be effected by obedience. This 
 method is old. Mr. Fronde says, that when relig- 
 ion had subsided to an opinion at Rome, the peo- 
 ple built more elegant temples than ever, and 
 devoted themselves more scrupulously to tlie 
 ceremonial. It has been quite a common experi- 
 ence, that, when faith has declined, a regard for 
 the forms of religion, and for the external duties 
 which it enjoins, has increased; men who have 
 broken with God and Avill not return to him, take 
 up, as a compromise, the doing of certain things 
 
WHAT MUST I DO? 195 
 
 which all acknowledge to be excellent, in the hope 
 that this may be accepted in the place of obedi- 
 ence. That is, when I owe you money and will 
 not pay you, if I am kind to your children, you 
 will forgive me the debt. When I have a note at 
 your bank, and, with money in my hands, refuse to 
 pay it, if in other respects I am well-behaved, you 
 will send me my note cancelled when it becomes 
 due. If I am amiable and pleasant among men, 
 that will balance my lack of integrity. Is this a 
 caricature ? I see something like it every day. 
 Men say when this thought of unrighteousness is 
 pressed home upon them, " I will try to do better ; 
 I will read my Bible more." But reading the 
 Bible is not fully obeying God. "I will attend 
 church more faithfully." But attending church is 
 not obeying God. " I will be more careful about 
 my prayers." But being carefal about your prayers 
 is not obeying God. " I will try to be more gentle 
 and kind and friendly with men." Admirable ! 
 But being all this is not obeying God, This is on 
 a lower plane, and is no substitute for the obedi- 
 ence of God. It is only by doing God's Avill that 
 a man ever can have life ; and one is grieved to 
 the heart when he finds that men are trj'ing to 
 substitute good wishes and prayers and reading 
 the Bible and attending church and speaking well 
 of religion, for the simple-hearted obedience of 
 God. I would not speak lightly — Oh, that I 
 might speak with more than human eloquence of 
 
196 CAMBRIDGE SEBMONS. 
 
 the value of virtue and morality in the earth ! I 
 would exalt reading the Bible and prayer and the 
 reverence of God in the sanctuary, and honor and 
 sincerity and truthfulness among men. All these 
 God requires. But when all this is done, it may 
 be that we have not found God. It was the 
 shrewd and sharp saying of some one upon the 
 "Charge of the Six Hundred," when they rushed 
 " into the jaws of death, into the mouth of hell," 
 throwing away their lives to accomplish nothing, 
 " This is magnificent, but it is not war." Some- 
 thing like that may be said of all the forms of vir- 
 tue and decorum : " These are magnificent, but they 
 are not religion." There is no religion without 
 God, and a man is not religious until he thinks of 
 God. Morality is not religious until a man is 
 moral because God requires it, and he renders his 
 morality to him. The circle must have a centre, 
 or it is not a circle ; and the centre of religion is 
 God. The needle of the compass must find the 
 north ; and the north of morality is God. When 
 morality points to him, then it is religion. Why 
 should we not do right to please God, and for his 
 sake possess the virtues ? Why should we think 
 that adorning the prison and softening the fetters 
 and loosening the stocks for men is a worthy sub- 
 stitute for the belief on tlie Lord Jesus Christ 
 which alone can save man ? 
 
 We can come to this thought of the necessity 
 of our submitting ourselves to God in obedience, 
 
WHAT MUST I DO? 197 
 
 if we think upon the rehition which we are to bear 
 to him forever. We might, perhaps, otherwise 
 come into a state in which we should be reason- 
 abl}^ content, if it were not for the fact that God 
 is love. Friends, I do not know how it impresses 
 you, but the most serious truth which I have to 
 confront in questions of duty is that God is love. 
 I should have an easier conscience if it were not 
 for that. I should care less for his treatment of 
 me, if he did not love me. It is little to you that 
 the stranger on the street does not notice you; but 
 if your friend passes you by ! It is little to this 
 man that the boys do not speak to him; but if his 
 own children will not speak to him ! It is a small 
 matter to the boys that the men whom they meet 
 do not smile upon them ; but if their father or 
 mother will not look kindly on them ! I can 
 think of nothincT which shall be harder for the lost 
 than to see the averted face of the love of God. 
 To look at him from the golden streets, while I 
 walk beneath the trees which yield their fruit 
 every month ; to look up to God and find him turn- 
 ing away ; and to think tliat he cannot look 
 approvingly upon me, but tliat I am spending my 
 years under his disapproval, knowing that he is 
 dissatisfied with me, displeased with my motives, 
 discontented with my life, might well make me 
 desire to depart from heaven and be at peace. 
 The man was not driven away by the soldiers, 
 nor by the girl who frightened him. He stood his 
 
198 CAMBBIBGE SEBMONS. 
 
 ground ; he kept by the fire and warmed himself, 
 that Galilean fisherman. But at last, when no 
 one was speaking, no hand was uplifted, no threat 
 had reached him, suddenly this stout man went 
 out, and in the darkness wept bitterly, for " the 
 Lord turned and looked upon Peter." The hard- 
 est look to bear is the sorrowful look of a friend. 
 His anger you could endure, but his sorrow 
 crushes the heart. " Peter went out " — of course 
 he went out. The world was not wide enouQ^h to 
 give him a place where he could stand and bear 
 the sight of those sorrowful eyes. The years were 
 not brief enough for him to pass through them and 
 lose sight of that tearful, pleading gaze, when 
 "the Lord turned and looked upon Peter." How 
 could a man live forever under the sad eyes, and 
 before the broken heart of the only friend he ever 
 had ? Call it heaven, if you will, but do not call 
 •it blessedness. There is no salvation until Christ 
 smiles upon us ; until God approves us. When 
 God is pleased, we are saved ; when God is con- 
 tented, we are right ; when the face of the Son of 
 God looks approvingly upon us, here in these 
 streets, or yonder in the celestial courts, we are in 
 heaven. 
 
 Brethren, I am not speaking to-day of the 
 delights of Paradise. I am asking simply this : 
 that 3^0 u and I may be right. Let us once for all 
 be done with the delusion that God is so good we 
 may wrong him, and that because God is love it 
 
WHA T MUST I DO ? 199 
 
 does not matter what he thinks of us. We do care 
 what he tliinks of us ; and we care all the more, 
 and we shall always care tlie more, because God is 
 love. Tliere is nothing tliat persuades me more 
 into the necessity that I must be right if I would 
 find heaven, than that God's love summons me to 
 this obedience. 
 
 This is the word which God's Spirit brings to us 
 this morning. We must regard this question 
 which is before us. Let us be rio-ht in the 
 righteousness of it. Our duty is plain. Shall we 
 do it? We shall be saved when God knows that 
 the secret spring of our life is true to him. That 
 was a fine sentence in one of the papers last week. 
 Some one, writing of Mr. Gladstone, who had 
 been obliged to give up a visit to his constituents 
 on account of his health, said, "When Mr. Glad- 
 stone says that he regards it as an obligation 
 to have an interview with the electors of Mid- 
 lothian, that is the same thing as saying it will be 
 performed." That, I suppose, may be taken 
 as the leading characteristic of the grandest Eng- 
 lishman of our day. It makes any life grand, and 
 anv life is feeble without it. To see that a tinner 
 ought to be done, and to have this equivalent 
 to seeing that it is done, makes up a heroic life. 
 We see our duty ; we confess it. Is that the 
 pledge that we will do it ? 
 
 I plead to-day simply for the right. A man 
 ought to love God. Shall we submit our life 
 
200 CAMBRIDGE SEBMOJSfS. 
 
 to God? We must come to God's mercy, because 
 we are guilty. The mercy of God is Jesus Christ, 
 his Son. There before this incarnate, redeemingr 
 mercy, we will say, " Here, Lord, I give myself 
 away. I take thy will and it shall govern me ; I 
 take thy word, and it shall teach me." "But shall 
 I not fail ? How can I know the will of God ? " 
 one asks. He shall guide you into all truth. 
 "How can I do the will of God? " He shall keep 
 you from falling, and present you faultless before 
 the presence of his glory with exceeding joy. 
 "Can I come up out of this inconstant and guilty 
 life into the grace of God, forever to abide within 
 his compassion ? " " The Spirit and the Bride say, 
 come ; " and the mercy of God saith " Come, all 
 ye that labor and are heavy laden ; Come unto me, 
 for I am God's mercy, and I Avill give you rest." 
 
 Three things, then, beloved : First, to devote our 
 life from this hour steadfastly unto obedience 
 to God ; secondly, to intrust ourselves steadfastly 
 unto God in mercy, which is Christ; thirdly, from 
 this hour to go our way doing those things which 
 will please Christ. 
 
 I leave this word with you with these sentences 
 of Holy Scripture, which teach us that, if a man 
 return to God he shall be saved ; that, if a man out 
 of his broken life will come back and begin life 
 again at the mercy of God, he shall be saved ; and 
 that the power that shall save him is the mercy of 
 God in Jesus Christ his Son. 
 
WHAT MUST I no ? 201 
 
 " Tliis is a faithful saying, and worthy of all 
 acceptation, that Jesus Christ came into the world 
 to save sinners." 
 
 " Tliere is none other name under heaven given 
 among men, whereby we must be saved." 
 
 " He is able to save them to the uttermost that 
 come unto God by him." 
 
 " The blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth 
 us from all sin." 
 
 " The precious blood of Christ." 
 
XI. 
 
 THE LOVE OF GOD MANIFESTED. 
 
 ScRiPTUEE Lesson : / John. Chapter iv. 
 
 Text: In this was manifested the love of God toward us, 
 because that God sent his only begotten Son into the world, 
 that we might live through him. Herein is love ; not that Ave 
 loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the 
 propitiation for our sins. / John iv : 9 and 10. 
 
 WE may acid to this the fourteenth verse : 
 " We have seen and do testify that the 
 Father sent the Son to be the Saviour of the 
 workl." There is, then, a grand truth which lies 
 before all wliich God, our Father, has done for us, 
 in the love which he has for us. God is love, 
 and God loves us. There can be no question 
 more important than this : What is the feeling of 
 God towards men, as they are really living and 
 working in the world ? The answer of our 
 Lord is, that when men needed to be saved, God 
 loved the world. 
 
 We have this precedent fact of the love of God ; 
 we have the love of God giving his Son for men ; 
 we have the love of God following the gift of his 
 
 202 
 
THE LOVE OF GOD 2IAXIFESTED. 203 
 
 Son with those calls which bid us to eternal life. 
 When we read the story of Christ's life as it is 
 written in the Old Scriptures, we find this move- 
 ment of God's love through all his work and 
 in his words. God is seen reasoning with men, 
 bidding them to reason with him, though their 
 sins be as scarlet ; calling them to himself, though 
 they are going away to death — "Turn 3'e, turn 
 ye, for why will ye die ? " God is found talking 
 with himself and calling himself to account, lest 
 in anything his love has come short ; going as the 
 vine-dresser among his vines, looking up through 
 the leaves and parting them here and there, that 
 he may see if anywhere there is a ripened cluster ; 
 at last dropping his hands in despair and crying 
 out in that sad and anxious sentence, " What 
 could have been done more to my vineyard, that I 
 have not done in it ? " We are to lay this down 
 as the grand truth ; the grand fact never to be 
 questioned — against which our reasoning and our 
 feeling are never to prevail ; whicli nothing in 
 law or judgment is to destroy — the love that 
 God has for men ; for men in their guilt, 
 for men in their death. We are able to re- 
 peat, and, with our voice rising as we say the 
 words, we do repeat those spirited lines of the 
 English preacher and singer, when he seems 
 to throw all his force into his song, lest some one 
 should question it, or as if somewhere he had 
 heard some whisper of doubt concerning it : 
 
204 CAMBRIDGE SEBMONS. \ 
 
 I say to thee, do thou repeat 
 
 To the first man thou mayest meet, 
 In lane, highway, or open street — 
 
 That he, and we, and all men move 
 Under a canopy of Love 
 
 As broad as the blue sky above. 
 ******* 
 And one thing further make him know, 
 
 That to believe these things are so, 
 This firm faith never to forego — 
 
 Despite of all which seems at strife 
 With blessing, and with curses rife — 
 
 That this is blessing, this is life. 
 
 From this fact of God's love, pass nov/ to the 
 manifesting of God's love ; for it is obvious that 
 if it be love it must show itself. A mere emotion 
 beyond the heavens, in the breast of God, avails 
 us nothingr-. It is not love unless it lives. There 
 is no such thing as dead love, and " They never 
 loved who dream that they loved once." God's 
 love must move because it is living ; it must seek 
 those towards whom it looks, that it may bless 
 them out of its own wealth and streno^th. 
 
 An Italian writer not long ago, speaking of one 
 of the most famous of modern Spanish painters, 
 whose works he had been examining, said, " It 
 is the last point whicii painting can reach 
 before being translated into action." The 
 painter could only drop his brush and do the 
 things which he had depicted ; that was all which 
 was beyond ; but that was a wonderful thing be- 
 yond. It is a great step from the thought to 
 
TUB LOVE OF GOD MANIFESTED. 205 
 
 the deed ; from the man upon the canvas to the 
 man upon the street ; from the love looking from 
 out the painted eyes to the love dropping from out 
 the living hands. God's love coming from the 
 divine eternal repose into a life Avherewith it 
 seeks to bring men to itself, this is love doing the 
 one thing which makes love perfect. 
 
 God's love shows itself to men before Christ 
 comes. It is in his favor and his providence ; 
 it is in his long-suffering patience, and compas- 
 sion ; it is in his exceeding great and precious 
 promises ; it is in liis communion with men, bear- 
 ing them up as a shepherd bears his sheep ; carry- 
 ing them as an eagle carries her young ; keeping 
 them as one keeps the flock in the green pastures 
 and by the still waters. God's love moves through 
 all. It is in great events ; when he calls Abraham 
 to be the leader of humanity ; when he raises 
 ]\Ioses from the bulrushes to be the world's law- 
 giver ; when he sends the prophets to instruct the 
 world in morals and religion, until he whose day 
 the prophets heralded shall come. This is the love 
 of God. 
 
 But all this has not availed to accomplish God's 
 purposes. On the night when Christ was born, 
 the world did not know that Jehovah was God. 
 A few Jews in Jerusalem and Juda, and scattered 
 here and there through the lands, knew ; but the 
 world in its despair bowed before its idols, 
 and Pag^anism ilself was breakinor to its fall. 
 
206 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 There was one thing more that God could do. 
 He could come into the world himself ; not send, 
 but come. We are brought, then, to the thought 
 which the apostle here presents to us as we gather 
 up these teachings to-day with the other teachings 
 out of the heart of this same man, who was '^ that 
 disciple whom Jesus loved," and we see God's 
 love alive, in the world, at its best and doing 
 its best for men. It seems a singular thinof as we 
 make up the merit of men, and the desert of 
 actions, that this which is done by the Son of 
 God in the earth, with which we are familiar, 
 should be ascribed to God. I think it almost the 
 strangest verse in the Bible, when you take it by 
 itself, that which St. Paul wrote to the Romans : 
 " God commendeth his love toward us, in that 
 Christ died for us." I ask you to admire my 
 patriotism and devotion, for I know a man who 
 went out and died for his country. You sa}^, " I 
 should think it was that man's devotion which 
 was to be admired, rather than yours." God com- 
 mendeth his love because somebody else died for 
 us. One would think it should be that Christ 
 commendeth his love because he died for us. I 
 could readily understand that ; the other is not so 
 clear. But you say it is marvellous love when 
 God gives his Son to the world that he may bear 
 our burdens, and suffer and die for us. That is 
 true. But does not the chief love belong to him 
 who comes ? Is it love which, taking sorrow from us, 
 
TUE LOVE OF GOD MANIFESTED. 207 
 
 lays it upon another ? We may call it loving us, but 
 what will the Son say ? We may call it a manifes- 
 tation of love on the one hand helping ^ls ; what 
 shall we say of that on the other hand, crushing 
 Mm .- 
 
 I have no solution of tins mystery, except that 
 which our Lord himself gave, which was this : *' I 
 and my Father are one. The Son can do nothing 
 of himself." He was so thoroughly one with the 
 Father, that he could not think, or love, or act 
 apart from him. They could not be separated. The 
 love of the Son was the love of God. I see, then, 
 how God may commend his love when the Son of 
 God dies, for the Father and the Son are one. 
 God comes to us, enters into our humanity, loving 
 us and putting his love into exercise for us, under 
 this name of the Son ; under the name of Jesus the 
 Saviour ; under that other name Immanuel, which 
 is, being interpreted by him who alone can inter- 
 pret his names ; who alone can translate his life 
 into our thought : which is, being interpreted, 
 "God with us." 
 
 " O Lamb of God, was ever pain, was ever love 
 like thine ! " 
 
 We have, then, these facts : we have Christ 
 giving himself for us; God sending his Son, as 
 the Scripture teaches ; Christ coming into the 
 world, as he said of himself, and thus redeeming 
 us ; giving himself, as the text says this morning, 
 first as " the propitiation for our sins ; " secondly, 
 
208 CAMBIilDGE SER3fONS, 
 
 "that we might live through him;" and thirdly, 
 as it is described in that larger phrase, '' to be the 
 Saviour of the world." 
 
 We are not to look upon this act of God in 
 giving his son as a singular act, separate from the 
 whole spirit of his life ; a new law which has 
 entered into the world. Christ is but fulfilling an 
 eternal law in this, that he gives himself for men. 
 There are three expressions to which I will call 
 your attention particularly now, that you may see 
 how this life of Christ in the world is carr^dng 
 out a grand, broad principle which is working all 
 the time among men. This law has three state- 
 ments. First, it is in this, and it is Christ's state- 
 ment: "Except a corn of wheat fall into the 
 ground and die, it abideth alone " ; but if it give 
 up its life, if it die, then other grains, and many 
 grains, spring from it, and it is glorified in this 
 multiplying and ennobling of its life. The sec- 
 ond statement is this : "I am the bread of life ; " 
 ye are to eat this bread and live forever. Bread is 
 this grain of wheat sprung up and multiplied ; and 
 then this new grain is itself bruised, crushed, made 
 into bread, which, again, is of no service until it is 
 dead. No ; not until you consume the bread does 
 it do you any good. But when the bread has 
 given itself for you, then it enters into your vir- 
 tue and knowledge ; into the immortality which 
 comes here in its beginning. It becomes a part of 
 you. It is not a poor loaf upon the shelf, but its 
 
' THE LOVE OF GOD MANIFESTED. 209 
 
 strength is in yon, tliat yon may live by means of 
 it. The third and only other illnstration which 
 I will mention, is this : " I am the good shep- 
 herd ; " I am " come to seek and to save that 
 which was lost," as the shepherd goes after the one 
 sheep which has wandered from the ninety and 
 nine; goes np into the cold mountain, finds him, 
 and brincTS him down into the fold at his own cost. 
 Nay, " I am the good shepherd," who, finding the 
 sheep in great peril, throws himself between the 
 sheep and the peril, and gives his life for the 
 sheep. Then the sheep live, and he lives in 
 them. For Christ rising from the dead becomes 
 more than ever the shepherd of the sheep ; receiv- 
 ing more from them in their affection and their 
 service, while he is glorified in that which he has 
 done for them. There is, perhaps, no more vivid 
 portraiture of the work of Christ than this, as he 
 paints it out upon the Judan background ; the 
 sheep and the wolves, and the Christ between. It is 
 a strong picture and full of meaning. But there is 
 one tiling more than the beauty of the words ; it is 
 the beauty of the deed, when the living Christ 
 gives his life for the sheep. 
 
 We have considered the fact and the method; 
 shall we look now at the reason of the fact? 
 Why is it that Christ gives himself for the sheep ? 
 Why is it that, being the bread of life, he consents 
 to be eaten ? Why is it that, being the grain of 
 living wheat, he consents to die ? 
 
210 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 First, lie does not die because he is guilty. We 
 associate suffering with guilt. He is not guilty; 
 he is holy. He does not die because he is weak. 
 He is three and thirt}^ years old, and all his 
 strength is in him ; he has a multitude attending 
 him ; lie has the world open before him ; yet he 
 goes steadfastly to the cross. He does not die 
 because he is compelled. If he does, there is no 
 patriot soldier who does not exceed him in devo- 
 tion. "I lay down my life of myself; no man 
 taketh it from me." He does not die, agaiu, be- 
 cause he is under obligation; it is his free and 
 gracious act. He does not die reluctantly ; he 
 talked but little of his dying, though in that little 
 he said wonderful things. When Jesus came to 
 his death he said this : " The hour is come, that 
 the Son of man should be glorified." It was the 
 glory of dying to redeem, which, in his thought, 
 surpassed the death itself. 
 
 Or, again, to change the list a little ; he does 
 not come into the world and give himself for men 
 because God is angry with men, and needs to be 
 persuaded and appeased ; for even then God loves 
 men. He does not die for men because he is bear- 
 ing their punishment, being himself holy. No 
 one can bear the punishment of another. Guilt 
 cannot be transferred, and no man can be pun- 
 ished for anything but his own offences. He does 
 not give himself for men because there is a defi- 
 ciency in that which God has done which he 
 
TUE LOVE OF GOD MANIFESTED. 211 
 
 wishes to fill out ; because of a sudden purpose of 
 love springing up in God's mind. The love of 
 God was in his law, making every syllable of it, 
 as truly as it was in his redemjition, bringing men 
 back to it. He does not die, fourthly, that he 
 may reconcile justice and mercy. God's justice is 
 merciful and God's mercy is just. It is reconcil- 
 ing a thing unto itself to speak of reconciling the 
 two sides of the one thought of God. Neither, 
 finally, does he die as if this were his last estate, 
 simply to perish, one more victim, one more man 
 giving himself that others may live while he 
 remains dead. He gives himself to rise from the 
 grave, and to bear humanity redeemed up into his 
 own glory, and to live and reign forever where 
 the saints of God render their homage and their 
 worship unto him who sitteth upon the throne and 
 unto the Lamb. 
 
 I am asked, then, passing from these negative 
 considerations, why it is that God's love takes 
 this especial form. We notice these three things: 
 In the first place, that men need to be saved. 
 Secondly, that Christ could save men if he would. 
 Thirdly, that Christ loves men enough to save 
 them. Men need, Christ is able, Christ is willing ; 
 there you have the atonement. You need it ; it 
 is possible for it to become real. There is love 
 enough to make it real. The whole truth is 
 comprehended in those three statements. We 
 are standing upon holy ground. ]\Ien have formed 
 
212 CAMBRIDGE SEJIMONS. 
 
 upon these facts various explanations, and some 
 of tliem are admirable. It is good to see how 
 vigorous and glowing are the thoughts of men 
 touching this fact of the redeeming love of Christ. 
 The3^have studied it, turned it to tl:iie light, sought 
 the reason for it, followed out the methods of its 
 working, and made to themselves the plans in 
 which all the parts find a place. Their studies 
 make excellent reading. Yet it will be noticed 
 that in these explanations there is one simple 
 truth. From different ways of looking at life, 
 men come to different conclusions upon almost 
 every subject. There is this noteworthy thing in 
 regard to the various studies upon the redemption 
 of Christ, that, however men may pursue the 
 theme, they come back to one great truth. From 
 the highest sacrificial theory which makes Christ 
 bear the burden of our guilt, to the humbler idea 
 which makes him simply one who appeals to our 
 conscience and affection, they agree in this sub- 
 stantial and central fact : that Christ gave him- 
 self to save men, and that because Christ gave 
 himself, men can be saved. With many points of 
 difference they agree in that. It is very in- 
 structive that the study of the history of Christ's 
 life, as it is recorded in the Scriptures, shows him 
 as the shepherd between the sheep and the 
 wolves. 
 
 If we can see Christ in that position, we have 
 seen the very heart of it all. If we can under- 
 
THE LOVE OF GOB MANIFESTED. 213 
 
 stand this, and receive it heartily, we have 
 received Christ as he gives himself for men. 
 
 I delight to read what men say about this. 
 Often have I read it, patiently have I studied it. 
 I shall continue to read with an open mind. But 
 I always come back to the New Testament, and 
 always must do so, for it is there alone that I find 
 the explanation of Christ's work which satisfies me. 
 I am deeply impressed with the conviction that 
 if there is any privilege which should be accorded 
 to everybody, it is the privilege of telling why he 
 does a thing. I claim that right. ]\Iy action may 
 be foolish ; it may seem to you irrational ; but I 
 assert my right as against the world, to explain my 
 conduct. What I ask for myself I give to others ; 
 and most of all to the Christ of God. To him 
 belongs the right to tell why he came into the 
 world, why he gave his life for men, what he 
 expected to accomplish by the offering of himself, 
 what he thinks men ought to do to avail them- 
 selves of it. I come back from my rambling to 
 say, " O my SavioHr, thou hast the right to give 
 thine own account of thy life and death, and I am 
 silent until thou hast spoken, and when thou hast 
 spoken." 
 
 Now what does Christ say ? Let us put away, 
 for this time, at least, the words of men, and our 
 own thouglits, and listen to him. I will only ask 
 you to take these two or three sentences of his 
 own words. " The Son of Man is come to seek 
 
214 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 and to save that which was lost." " This is my 
 body which is broken for you." " This is my 
 blood which is shed for many for the remission 
 of sins." " God so loved the world that he gave 
 his only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in 
 him, should not perish, but have everlasting life." 
 " I am the good shepherd ; the good shepherd 
 giveth his life for the sheep." This is simply 
 letting him tell his own story. It is not much to 
 allow him to make his own representation of his 
 works, and picture it, if he will. " I am the good 
 shepherd ; the good shepherd giveth his life." He 
 does not hint that this is to set the sheep an 
 example or to stir up in them a new love for the 
 shepherd. What they required was to be saved 
 from the wolves. Nothing could be plainer than 
 this presentation of his work. We see the sheep 
 and the wolves, and the Christ. " The good 
 shepherd giveth his life for the sheep." 
 
 Now, dear friends, that is the atonement. It is 
 a brief statement, but it is wonderfully clear and 
 satisfying. I ought to say to 3^ou candidly that 
 the deepest thouglit which I ever have upon the 
 atonement comes from such simple sentences as I 
 have now read to you. More and more do I find 
 content in the plain words of Christ himself and 
 the men whom he instructed. The matter is a vital 
 one to me, for my own sake and as your minister. 
 I rejoice to rest my faith, and build my preaching on 
 the truth which Christ taught concerning himself. 
 
THE LOVE OF GOD MANIFESTED. 215 
 
 The sheep, the wolves, tlie Christ between — I can 
 understand that as a fact. We may goon a little 
 farther, still keeping in the light of the holy Scrip- 
 tures. When Christ came into the world there 
 were two principles at work. The one was that 
 principle which makes the men who do good 
 blessed. God himself, supremely good, is 
 supremely blessed, and all goodness tends to 
 happiness. Then you find a principle of evil in 
 the world, coming out in lameness and blindness 
 and death, and continually producing unhappiness. 
 On the one side goodness tends to all which we 
 mean by life ; and on the other side wickedness 
 tends to all which we mean by death. These two 
 laws prevail ; and we find in the Scriptures, as we 
 find in our daily papers and daily walks, that the 
 current thought of the world is away from God ; 
 that the ruling passion of men is selfisluiess and 
 not godliness, and we know that the result can 
 only be unhappiness. With these two forces at 
 work, Christ comes into the world. You Avill 
 mark that this which I have now described is not 
 a statute, but a necessary relation of cause and 
 effect. It is not God saying, " I command this, 
 that ever}' good man shall be happy, and that every 
 bad man shall be unhappy," giving a law which 
 he may easily reverse. It is not a commandment. 
 It is simply a fact, which is as necessary as the 
 being of God himself, that goodness shall tend to 
 blessedness and to the elevating and the glorify- 
 
216 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 ing of the whole character and heart of man. 
 This comes out of the nature of God, and is not 
 the mere command of God. We make a great 
 mistake sometimes when we think we have to deal 
 simply with a code of statutes, which the one 
 adaiinistering the law may at any time modify, or 
 repeal. The statutes are as unrepealable as the 
 nature of God. If they should be repealed, you 
 could no longer be certain that God is good, or 
 that he is blessed. I put this down as an ever- 
 lasting and inevitable truth, that out of goodness 
 comes blessedness, and all which we mean by life. 
 Into these facts God came with his Spirit and 
 his own nature. With these two principles work- 
 ing among men, God came down and was incar- 
 nate in our humanity. He saw men going through 
 their wickedness into their despair. He threw him- 
 self in their path. He let this pain and suffering 
 and wrong assail him. He was not made guilty, 
 or he would have been a sufferer merely, and not 
 a deliverer, standing with all the power of his 
 divinity. But, standing with the sympathy of his 
 pure humanity, he let this sorrow, this pain, the 
 malice of sin, fall upon him and overpower him. 
 In doing that he brought in not a new laAv, but a 
 new working of the law of God. The old princi- 
 ple remained, " The wages of sin is death," and 
 unto this he bowed; but he asserted this new 
 principle : "• The free gift of God is eternal life 
 through Jesus Christ our Lord." So that those 
 
THE LOVE OF GOD MANIFESTED. 217 
 
 who had done wrong and to whom sorrow was the 
 inevitable destiny, could be brought out of that 
 course, because the sorrow had fallen upon him. 
 He was not punished, nor compelled, but he took 
 upon himself that which the very nature of things 
 made necessary ; the pain which belongs with sin. 
 Christ does this that he may save men. These 
 are the facts. If I were to frame an explanation of 
 them, I would call it the "parental theory." It is 
 God being the Father. If you are a good father, 
 30U alwa3's insist upon it that only goodness shall 
 have its reward. You tell your child, if you are a 
 Christian mother, from the first time he can under- 
 stand you, that righteousness tends to happiness, 
 and unrighteousness away from happiness ; and 
 you hold your child, by all the force which is in 
 you, to the doing of that which is right. Yet, 
 rather than that 3'our child should suffer for his 
 misdeeds, you would do anything to lead him back 
 and save him. You insist upon it that he must do 
 right. There is not a day in the year when you 
 would not suffer to have him do right, and every 
 day you are giving yourself to this intent. I call 
 it the "mother theory," the "father theory." I 
 write it in with the Lord's prayer: "Our Father 
 who art in heaven ; forgive us. Thy kingdom 
 come. Thy will be done on earth" — on this part 
 of the earth where I stand. 
 
 I have said all that I wish to say. I should be 
 glad to end here ; yet I know the questions which 
 
218 CAMBBIDGE SEBMONS. 
 
 come to yonr mind. Men say, "If God is love, 
 why is it not enough for a man to turn from the 
 wrong to the right ? " It is enough. That is 
 what I have been saying all these years. That is 
 what has been said ever since Christ came into 
 the world. It is enough, if a man turns from the 
 wrong to the right. But what is the right? 
 Right is obedience. There is no turning to the 
 right until you turn to God ; and there is no 
 reception there until it is God in mercy to whom 
 you turn ; and God in mercy is God in Christ. 
 If 3^ou will consistently carr}^ out the turning from 
 the wrong to the right, you will find yourself 
 turning to the grace of God which is in Jesus 
 Christ, his Son. But why is Christ necessary? 
 Why cannot God forgive us just as well without a 
 Saviour ? Why cannot we go to God without 
 any thought of Christ? In reply, I say three 
 things ; First, we do not have to go to God with- 
 out Christ. There is no need of it. Why should 
 we seek him by a long path, as if he were afar 
 off, when we can go to him here ? Hear Christ's 
 word again : " No man cometh unto the Father 
 but by me." Secondly, it is necessary that God 
 should make an expression of his character, of his 
 nature ; and that he should let it work itself out 
 as against all unrighteousness and evil, lest we 
 should feel that sin is such a trifling matter that, 
 whenever we choose to make new resolves every- 
 thing will be changed in our relation to God. 
 
THE LOVE OF GOD MANIFESTED. 219 
 
 The third and hist thing, which will be to you, as 
 it is to nic, the most imperative, is this : God him- 
 self appoints the way. He calls us to himself by 
 Christ. Would he have given his Son to the cross 
 if it had not been necessary? You and I may 
 not know why ; God knew. Do you say that God 
 is love, and therefore we do not need a Saviour? 
 God loved Christ quite as much as he did men, 
 and he gave him for us and he calls us to him. It 
 is God's way ; let us be content, grateful and obe- 
 dient. 
 
 There may come another question : Why is it 
 necessary for us to do an}' thing ? Why may we not 
 float upon this tide of God's love into Paradise ? 
 I give again three answers : First, we do not need 
 to do this. We can have divine help, we 
 can come to Christ ; we can, therefore w^e should. 
 Secondly, we are free. Character must be made 
 up by our own hands ; we have gone away from 
 God of our own will; we must come back to God 
 of our own will. There is no obedience but will- 
 ing obedience. The third and last reason is 
 this: Christ calls us to believe. " Whosoever be- 
 lieveth," he said. If any man believeth, he 
 shall be saved. AVhen the Holy Spirit comes, fol- 
 lowing the work of Christ with his divine 
 efficiency, it is not to foster our strengtli ; to make 
 us feel how good we are ; it is to glorify Christ : 
 to take of the things of Christ and show them unto 
 us, that we may be saved by him. 
 
220 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 There are these two things which the text this 
 morning teaches ns. One is, that Christ has 
 given himself for our sins. Let us believe that 
 fact ; believe it is a fact, and rest in it and love it. 
 Christ says that he has given himself for us, and 
 that there is no need that we should die in our 
 sins. The other teaching is this : that we are to 
 live through him ; we are to take his will and do 
 it; to go steadily on in obedience to God who 
 teaches and calls us through Jesus Christ his 
 Son. 
 
 That is a beautiful little incident which Doctor 
 Livingstone records concerning his mother. He 
 heard of her death when he was away. He 
 hastened home, and found that death had come to 
 her suddenly. An hour and a half before they 
 thought she was going, her daughter Agnes, 
 sitting by her bedside, said to her, " The Saviour 
 has come for you, mother. You can lippen yourself 
 to him ? " Of course she said *' Yes ; " it was David 
 Livingstone's mother. You know them by their 
 fruits. I think there would be more David 
 Livingstones if there were more such women. 
 She had the natural mother feeling, and had said 
 she would like to have one of her laddies lay her 
 head in the grave ; but if none was there, she 
 wished William Logan would do it. David came 
 home in time for that filial office. But there was 
 the simple faith of mother, and daughter, and son, 
 expressed in that Scotch phrase, "You can lippen 
 
THE LOVE OF GOD MANIFESTED. 221 
 
 yourself to him, mother ? " You can trust liim ; 
 you can liold to liim, and can rest in his promise as 
 you go your new way. 
 
 So I come away from men ; and first of all, I 
 come away from myself — out of this poor, incon- 
 stant will and way of mine ; out of it all to him ; 
 not to what he did merely, but to him. There is 
 one Saviour, and that is the Christ himself. Oh, 
 friends, let us " lippen " to Him. 
 
XII. 
 
 WE SHALL BE LIKE HIM. 
 
 ScEiPTUEE Lesson : Bomans viii : 14-39. 
 
 Text : Beloved, now are we the sons of God ; and it doth 
 not yet appear what we shall be ; but we know that when he 
 shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he 
 is. John iii : 2. 
 
 IT cloth not yet appear what we shall be." 
 We know as little as this disciple when he 
 wrote these words. He knows more ; and many 
 who have gone from our side have gained that 
 great access of knowledge, for they have seen the 
 Lord. Bat to ns it remains true that "it doth not 
 yet appear what we shall be." Hence we gather up 
 with eagerness every hint of the holy Scriptures 
 touching this wliich is certainly before us, this 
 land upon whose confines we are standing, and 
 into which so many are entering day by day, if 
 we may form to ourselves any conception of that 
 which is coming to us and has come to them. In 
 all the Scriptures there is perhaps no teaching 
 clearer regarding our future life, more level to our 
 comprehension, commending itself more heartily 
 
 222 
 
WE SHALL BE LIKE UUI. 223 
 
 to our thought, than this : in that world which is 
 above us and beyond us, tliat world of light and 
 love towards whicli we are looking, the supreme 
 delight, the highest glor}', will be this : " We 
 shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is." 
 
 But "it dotli not yet appear" where we shall bo 
 in that vast world ; nor with what body we shall 
 stand ; nor what employment we shall have where 
 still and forever it will be " more blessed to give 
 than to receive " ; nor to what glory, what heights 
 of advancement, we shall rise through the eternal 
 training of God, in the endless years. All this 
 "doth not yet appear." It is concealed from our 
 eyes, because it is not possible that it should be 
 written in words. Words cannot describe a sun- 
 rise, or a symphony. Words cannot tell what 
 home is, what love is, what life is. If there were 
 words formed, if there were pictures drawn, to 
 make it clear to us what this must be, we should 
 not be able to comprehend the revelation until it 
 had become a part of our own experience. There 
 are certain things which a man can never know 
 until he feels them ; until his life enters into them, 
 and is taken up by them. Michael A ngelo drawing 
 figures upon the wall and upon the floor, cannot 
 understand what he shall be in that grand career 
 opening before liim. David, keeping his flocks, 
 has small notion of the royalty which shall be his ; 
 and as he plays his tuneful reeds, he cannot con- 
 ceive of himself as leading the worship of the 
 
224 CAMBBIDGE SER3WNS. 
 
 saints on earth, perhaps in heaven. We have to 
 enter into these lives and find Avhat love is by 
 loving; what home is by having a home ; what life 
 is b}^ living. It is only in this way that we can 
 rise into the conception of that to which we are 
 coming. 
 
 This limitation of our powers is for our help. 
 If we could see the glory that is to come, we 
 might be weary of to-day ; it might seem harder 
 to do that which we must do — to dig in the 
 ground, to build houses, to handle our gold, to 
 write our books, to give our instruction, to trans- 
 act our business. This might become intolerable 
 to us; our eyes might not be able to see the 
 implements of our common industry if from the 
 upper world the glory should smite us on the face. 
 We are kept waiting in promise and in hope. 
 It is made certain to us that we are going hence ; 
 we are assured that it shall be well for those who 
 depart hence to be with Christ ; but what we shall 
 be, in what form of glory we shall spend our 
 eternity, '4t doth not yet appear." Yet it is a 
 marked excellence of religion that it turns our 
 thoughts forward. 
 
 The Bible, sometimes criticized because it does 
 not deal more thoroughly with the past, with 
 Avhich we have nothing to do, deals thoroughly 
 with the present and the future wdth which we 
 have everything to do. However much the mul- 
 titude of books may surpass it in the history 
 
WE SHALL BE LIKE HIM. 225 
 
 of that which has been, it stands solitary in this 
 preeminence, that it tells us of that which is to 
 be ; and that which is our present duty and 
 our hope is the practical truth which beyond 
 everything else it becomes us to know. I claim 
 this for the Bible, that it is the most practical of 
 books ; and I claim this for religion, that it con- 
 cerns that to which our interests are most utterly 
 committed ; not the past, into which we cannot 
 return, but the future, into which we are sure to 
 enter. 
 
 As we read these words of the apostle this morn- 
 ing, we mark a limitation in them. They are set 
 into this present time. " Beloved, noiv,'' says the 
 apostle ; not yesterday, not in the primeval ages; 
 I am speaking to you of that which is now. In 
 this fact of the present stands that which is the 
 promise of all which is to be. " Beloved, now 
 are we the sons of God" — find out, if you can, 
 what you were a myriad 3^ears ago; — '-''noiu are 
 we the sons of God." From this present fact 
 comes this future glory. Because we are now the 
 sons of God, we shall be like him presently, "for 
 we shall see him as he is." 
 
 Take, then, this fact first : we are now the sons 
 of God. The good men who have given us our 
 revised version of the New Testament have 
 changed in two respects these words, and for the 
 better. They teach us to read: "Beloved, now 
 are we children of God." They strike out the 
 
226 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 article which limits it. It is no longer " the 
 sons," but " children." We are children of God 
 bj virtue of our nature ; we are born of God. 
 We are spirit as God is spirit. We are born 
 again by the Spirit of God, regenerated by him, 
 so that we partake of the divine nature. We re- 
 ceive from God that affection which a father gives 
 his sons, and Ave return to him that affection which 
 children give their father. We receive that pro- 
 tection, that instruction, that guidance which a 
 father gives his children. We return that obedi- 
 ence, that trust, that submission, which children 
 render to their father. We have our home with 
 him here, and our heaven is to be with God in 
 that which is described by our Lord as our 
 Father's house. 
 
 If we take that more restricted use of this term 
 in which it is applied to our Lord himself, the Son 
 of God and the Son of Man, who is the " only be- 
 gotten Son" of the Father, we find still, in the 
 most wonderful way, the assertion of this fellow- 
 sliip with him. Thus, Jesus himself said, speak- 
 ing to men : " My Father and your Father." His 
 greatest apostle said that he was " the first-born 
 among many brethern:" the eldest son. In the 
 epistle to the Hebrews it is written that he is not 
 ashamed to call us brethren. When we find these 
 terms applied on the one hand to God as the 
 Father, and on the other to us as his children, we 
 are not to think of them in some loose application, 
 
WE SHALL BE LIKE IIUL 227 
 
 as if the}^ went beyond the fact. The truth is, they 
 do not equal the fact. The words are not hirge 
 enough. God is our Father in tlie largest way, 
 and all which we know of fatherhood here is but 
 the likeness to his. The image of fatherhood is 
 in our liouse ; the reality of fatherhood is in God. 
 We imitate fatherhood which has its reality with 
 God. We call ourselves children of our father 
 and mother; the reality is when we are the chil- 
 dren of God. The literal is the eternal ; the di- 
 vine is the real ; the true fatherhood is in God ; 
 the true childhood is the childhood of men to 
 God. 
 
 We are not surprised at the use of this name, 
 father, as we feel how tenderly the word readies 
 lis in our lives here ; how it comprehends our in- 
 fancy and blesses us all our days ; that we never 
 can become separated from it, and that no man 
 ever gets so old or strong that he does not need his 
 father's counsel and his mother's love ; and that 
 the tenderest thoughts, which we keep till the 
 last, are the thoughts of our childhood in the 
 father's house, by our mother's side. And when 
 we are taught to elevate all which is filial and 
 sacred into our thoughts of God, we should be 
 able to rise in faith, and see that this which we 
 know is but the beg^innino^ of that which is for- 
 ever. When one of the missionaries in India was 
 translating this epistle b}^ the aid of a Hindoo 
 youth, he found the young man unwilling to write 
 
228 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 this sentence. He had written an avowal of 
 God's love, and of the grace which God has shown to 
 men ; but when he was told to write, '- now are 
 we the sons of God," he wanted to write instead 
 of that, " now we are permitted to kiss his feet." 
 
 From this comes, secondly, that revelation of 
 glory which the apostle here brings to our atten- 
 tion. We shall be like God, and therefore like 
 Christ, the Son of God, who is the image of the 
 Father. We are already like him in nature ; we 
 shall be like him in character, and in glory. The 
 apostle teaches us that " beholding as in a glass the 
 glory of the Lord, we are changed into the same 
 image from glory to glory." We shall be like him 
 in taste, enjoying what he enjoys, turning away 
 from that which he dislikes. We shall be like him 
 in life and work, finding in his purposes our own 
 law and life, and delighting to do liis bidding and 
 to share his work as he is striving to bless men in 
 all places and through all the years. We shall be 
 like God; we shall not be God; we shall not be 
 equal to God ; we shall be like him ; our righteous- 
 ness shall resemble his ; our glory, our spirit, our 
 taste, our occupation shall resemble his. 
 
 This is to come, again, because '* we shall see 
 him as he is." The very place where we shall see 
 liiiii is favorable to this resemblance of our heart 
 and life to his. Taken away from all that hinders 
 us here, we shall have all the favorable conditious 
 which shall tend to make us like him ; all incite- 
 
WE SHALL BE LIKE HIM. 229 
 
 ments to evil shall be removed ; there will be no 
 inclination to selfishness, or earthiness ; we shall 
 be broken from tlie bondage of the flesh, and our 
 very body itself shall be spiritual like the Lord's. 
 "VVe shall stand with a renewed heart where the 
 Holy Spirit shall find us, and the light shall shine 
 through the uncurtained windows of the soul and 
 illuminate our body and our spirit. This putting 
 our weakness away from us and receiving within 
 us the divine strength shall carry us on to the fulfil- 
 ment of that word, and we shall be like the Lord. 
 We shall be like him because we shall see him. 
 Our Lord's face we shall behold ; the tones of his 
 voice we shall hear ; we shall keep company with 
 him; in his presence we shall be incited to right- 
 eousness. In the presence and power of his will 
 we shall choose to will like him and be holy. 
 Then shall the Lord's Prayer be uttered in the 
 deep sincerity with which we are taught it : "Thy 
 will be done, by me, be done here, in heaven, 
 to-day, as it has been done in heaven by the saints 
 in the past." We shall behold the face of Christ 
 in the light which the Spirit of God shall throw 
 upon it. Then shall his promise be carried fur- 
 ther : "The Holy Spirit shall glorify me." He 
 shall hold up in the clear light of heaven the deeds 
 of Christ. " He shall testify of me ; " then shall 
 the mystery of the incarnation become plainer, and 
 those deep and weighty truths of redemption be- 
 come clearer; then shall we be moved to holy 
 
230 CAMBEIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 living by the sight of that Avhich lie has done for 
 us, when it is no longer one afar off, and never 
 seen, whom we are loving, but one whom we see 
 face to face, and of whose love we are continually 
 reminded by the continual manifesting of the same 
 affection. The sight of God — is there anything 
 in all the visions of the future which can surpass 
 this in potency? Is there anything in the future 
 to which we look forward, which is more glorious 
 than to see him as he is? I call to mind those 
 simple words of Laura Bridgman, written in an- 
 ticipation of that which was before her: "By the 
 linger of God my eyes and ears shall be opened. 
 The string of my tongue shall be loosed. AVith 
 sweeter joys in heaven I shall hear and speak and 
 see/' She has not seen a human face since she was a 
 little child. For fifty years not once has she looked 
 upon a friend. And I said, it is almost worth 
 while to be blind, if the first face which one shall 
 see is the face of Christ. Would you not like to 
 be near that woman when, for the first time, she 
 sees a friendly face and that face is Christ's? It is 
 for us, too. Out of this world we shall rise ; out of 
 its darkness into that light; out of its sinfulness 
 into that righteousness ; and our eyes blurred 
 with the dust, and dazzled with the glitter, and 
 dimmed with the tears of this world, shall behold 
 the face of God. And we shall be like him when 
 we shall see him as he is. 
 
 You will mark, again, that these words have in 
 
WE SHALL BE LIKE IIUL 231 
 
 them a twofold limitation. It should be frankly 
 confessed, that great as they are, and vast in their 
 expansion, they do restrict the glories of heaven. 
 They limit those who are to enter heaven. The 
 sons of God, the children of God, are to have 
 this delight. They limit again tlie blessedness 
 of heaven. It consists not in being there, but in 
 being like God. To this twofold limitation we 
 must attend ; first, that all who are in heaven are 
 children of God ; and, secondly, that the delight 
 of heaven is in being like God. If one, then, is 
 not a child of God, manifestly he is not prepared for 
 this blessedness ; and if a man cannot find happi- 
 ness in being like God, then manifestly he must 
 find that this happines is not for him. And this 
 limitation runs through the Scriptures. Heaven 
 is never spoken of as a broad plain, but as a city — 
 a walled cit}', a city with its gates and with a path 
 leading to it. Its walls are jewelled, but they are 
 still walls. Every gate is a pearl, but still it is a 
 gate. The door is open, but still it is a door. The 
 path can be trodden, but still it is a path. One 
 comes over the path through the door, into the 
 city ; and standing there the child of God, able to 
 enjoy what God enjoys, he has found heaven. 
 
 If there be any profit in it, it is very easy to 
 enlarge this. Let us be liberal to-day. The num- 
 ber of those who shall enjoy heaven can be in- 
 creased b}^ lessening the quality of the happiness, 
 so that more people shall be capable of enjoying 
 
232 CAMBEIDGE SEB3I0NS. 
 
 it. We can enlarge our college on this plan. 
 Simply degrade it to a grammar school, bring in 
 the studies which are pursued in the lowest schools, 
 and we can multiply our students indefinitely. 
 We can enlarge the number of musicians in the 
 same way. Simply make music include beating a 
 drum, or ringing a bell, and w^e have increased the 
 number of musical artists. Make science include 
 paving the street with stones, and we can all be 
 scientific men. 
 
 What enlargement we can readily make ! Yet 
 we say it is better that these professions and in- 
 stitutions should maintain their high standing, 
 and that men should be trained to enter them and 
 enjoy their advantages. That is, instead of de- 
 grading the college to a primary school, we may 
 offer to every one who wishes it the opportunity 
 to enter college and pursue liberal studies. 
 
 We hold that it is better that music retain its 
 nobility, and that we be trained to appreciate that 
 which is highest and, according to the measure of 
 our ability, really enlarge the melody and harmony 
 of the world. Is it not better that heaven should 
 remain just what it is, and that we should be pre- 
 pared to enjoy it as it is, than that we should re- 
 main as we are and heaven be brought down to 
 us? As it is to-day, no man enters God's heaven 
 who does not love God. Bring down heaven so 
 that everybody is in it, and you have made a place 
 abounding in selfishness. It is this world over 
 
WE SHALL BE LIKE HIM. 233 
 
 again. It is not worth while for a man to take 
 the trouble to die. As well stay here, if heaven is 
 simply an extension of this world, and men there 
 are loving or not loving God, as it "may happen; 
 and one trusts him and another does not, and one 
 is kind and another is not, and one worships and 
 another does not. If it is simply the confusion 
 and misrule of this world continued, pray, what 
 have we gained by going to heaven ? Is it not 
 rational that we should desire to stay where we 
 are? We may change our idea of heaven. We 
 may broaden the common conception of it. We 
 may make it receive and retain all classes and con- 
 ditions of men. We can write heaven where we 
 will. But the Bible method is the true one. Let 
 God's heaveii remain. Take not a jewel from the 
 walls, not a pearl from the gates ; let nothing w^hich 
 defileth pass the threshold ; let no earthiness or 
 selfishness enter in ; let there be no man there 
 who does not love God and the Saviour, Christ the 
 Lord. Let heaven stand ; then train men up for 
 it, teach men to enjoy it, cultivate their taste for 
 it, make them God's children, deliver them from 
 themselves, that they may be worthy of heaven, 
 and thus prepare them for God's heaven. It is 
 nobler and kinder than to degrade heaven into the 
 dust of this world. 
 
 The poor boy in the streets of London, watch- 
 ing the royal procession, moved by the glitter of 
 the pageant, says, " This is fine ; some day I shall 
 
234 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 ride in the royal carriage, I shall have the guards 
 about me ; I shall be sovereign of England. I am 
 good ; I want to be king of England ; the queen 
 is kind ; she will appoint me king." You tell him 
 that he cannot be king of England because he is 
 not in the royal family. It is the queen's eldest 
 son who is to be king. But what if there were 
 two kings, as in Siam; wliat if there were a thou- 
 sand kings, as among the African tribes ? Still, 
 one must have royalty to come to the regal estate. 
 It is possible to-day for a man to become God's 
 child; then he has the benefits and blessings of 
 God's children. You say that God calls every- 
 body his child and loves everybody. It is true ; 
 more true than you think. But the true child 
 loves as well as receives love. Childhood needs 
 the answering heart of man if it is to have the 
 child's blessing. We can be God's children in the 
 high and true sense. It is written, " As many as 
 received him, to them gave he the right to become 
 children of God." Would you rather that were 
 written in this way : " He gave a selfish man the 
 right to enjoy heaven ? " It is better to change 
 the man and let the heaven remain. Or take our 
 Lord's assurance that we must be — that is, we 
 may be — "born of the Spirit of God." To be 
 born of God is to be his child and his heir. Or 
 recall these words, " The Son of Man is come to 
 seek and to save that which was lost." Or these, 
 " I give unto my sheep eternal life, and they shall 
 
WE SHALL BE LIKE UUL 235 
 
 never perish, neither shall any man pluck them 
 out of my hand." The whole burden of the Gos- 
 pel is this : " Tlicrc is a glorious heaven, full of all 
 delight, of supreme and everlasting blessedness ; 
 and I am here to prepare 3'ou to enter it." Shall 
 we cry, " Lord, bring lieaven down to us ? " No ; 
 he will bring us up to lieaven. " Lord, change 
 heaven so that a selfish man can enjoy it? " No ; 
 he will change the selfish man so that he can enjoy 
 the lieaven which is. " Lord, change heaven so 
 that a man can enjoy it who never loved the Lord 
 and Saviour ? " No ; he will let heaven stay pre- 
 cisely as it is, and change us so that we shall love 
 and trust and serve the Lord of heaven. 
 
 This is the method of the Gospel. It is a 
 grand, broad hope ; it is the larger hope ; it 
 leaves heaven on the heights and with its 
 glories unharmed ; it offers to every child of 
 man, the world over, the opportunity of entering 
 into it. It withholds no man ; it makes it too 
 difficult for no man. It does not stretch out the 
 walls of heaven until they enclose this earth with 
 all its earthiness : it lets the walls remain. It 
 does not take away the door, as Samson carried 
 the gates of Gaza, but it opens the door, and 
 leaves it standing open. It does not drive us in, 
 or force heaven around us, as the waters rising 
 make an island of a man's house, but it stands at 
 the open door of God's heaven and cries, " Whoso- 
 ever will — without money and without price — 
 
236 CAMBRIDGE SEBMONS. 
 
 whosoever will, wherever he is, let him come. 
 Every joy of heaven is his, all the wealth of heaven 
 is his ; the summons is free to everlasting glory. 
 Behold, I have set before you an open door into 
 God's enduring grace." Surely we are gainers 
 by this method. Let heaven stand. It is for all 
 men, in the Father's love for all men. The Father 
 calls all men ; Christ gave himself for all men ; 
 " the Spirit and the Bride say come." The wealth 
 of God and the pure joys of his heaven are of- 
 fered to us for the taking. Let us promptly and 
 gratefully accept the grace of God, that we may 
 enjoy the riches of his love in his heaven. 
 
 Let us mark the breadth of this, and feel, first, that 
 heaven is very great and good, and then, that it is 
 offered to every one of us. Every man is asked to 
 become the child of God ; every man who will can 
 be the child of God. " Ye will not come to me," 
 Jesus said. It may be that we shall fail of heaven. 
 But we shall not fail of God's heaven because 
 there is a door, for the door is open ; nor because 
 we are not called, nor because we cannot come. 
 If we fail of God's heaven it is because we will not 
 be the children of God. 
 
 Perhaps we shall get a clearer idea if we re- 
 member that this heaven which is above us is 
 Christ's heaven. He has made it, he will enjoy it. 
 It is such a heaven as is pleasant to him. If, now, 
 we are to enjoy the same heaven, then we must be 
 like him, and able to enjoy what Christ enjoys. 
 
WE SHALL BE LIKE IIUL 237 
 
 Whenever we come it must be witli a preparation 
 to enjoy the things of Christ, There are visions of 
 the future Avhich many are cherishing, that some- 
 where, beyond this world, down tlie ages, all men 
 will enter into the kingdom of heaven. If it is so, 
 they must come in the one way. A million years 
 hence heaven will be as it is to-day. No man can 
 ever enjoy heaven until he is qualified to enjoy 
 what Christ enjoys. No man can ever enter 
 heaven, ages and ages hence, but through that 
 which Christ has done. No man will ever be 
 fitted to enjoy Christ's heaven until tiie Spirit of 
 God has made him a child of God. Time has 
 nothino' to do with that. There is no clianf^e o^ 
 method. If Ave ever find our way into the city, it 
 vrill be through that open door, and the door will 
 be there forever and forever. 
 
 If this be true, should we not find the beginning 
 of heaven here, by choosing here what Christ likes? 
 If we can enjoy the things of Christ now, then we 
 shall have the enjoyment of his presence here. 
 We can have the siglit of his face which shall fill us 
 with joy. It was a pleasant remark of the woman 
 through whose guidance so many are "stepping 
 heavenward," when speaking of her scholars and 
 their trivial ways and words, slje exclaimed, " Oh, 
 but this is such a nice world, and the girls do not 
 know it! " Yes, this is a good world, and we do 
 not know how good it is. But the greatest joy 
 which comes to men in this life is the joy of being 
 
238 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 like Christ; having his will, his character, his 
 spirit, his confidence in the Father, his anticipation 
 of the glory to come. These we can have here 
 to-day. He said many things touching heaven. 
 Sometimes a man goes out at the dawn, and look- 
 ing up at the star which heralds the day, admires 
 its beauty, and there comes a voice out of the ex- 
 cellent glory : " To that man, who, rising early, 
 comes forth to serve me througli the day, I will 
 give the morning star." He looks up to the sk}^ 
 which is above him, and thinks of the temple of 
 God with its roof glittering with the light which is 
 celestial and eternal; and he wonders what shall 
 hold up the everlasting beauty ! " That man who 
 comes forth to his work loving me and doing my 
 will from day to day, I will make him a pillar in 
 the temple of my God." Who shall rule there, 
 and what shall be the sj)irit and the law of heaven, 
 where the throne of God and of the Lamb is set ? 
 " That man who, kneeling here, devotes his life to 
 me in this world, makes himself pure of heart and 
 does the deeds which are pleasing in my siglit, I 
 will grant to him to sit with me in my throne." 
 
 But oh, beloved, to own the morning star, to be 
 a pillar in the temple, to sit upon the throne, can- 
 not allure and comfort us and draw our thought 
 and life upward and onw^ard as does this simple 
 word which we have read to-day. Here in this 
 weakness and this sin ; here with this poor vision 
 and these faltering hopes ; here with these disap- 
 
WE SHALL BE LIKE HIM. 239 
 
 pointments and defeats, the great comfort which 
 comes to a man is that there is a day when he 
 shall be like Him. With glad voice he cries, " I 
 shall be like Him, for I shall see Him ; I shall see 
 Him as he is." 
 
XIII. 
 THE UNCHANGING CHRIST. 
 
 ScRiPTUKE Lesson : Hebrews, i. 
 
 Text : Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and to-day, and 
 forever. Hebrews xiii : 8. 
 
 JESUS CHRIST is the same yesterday and 
 to-day, yea, and forever." It is in this way 
 that the new version teaches us to read the sen- 
 tence. There is here the assertion of two facts : 
 first, that our Lord has eternal life ; his eternal 
 yesterday, his endless years; and secondly, that 
 through this eternity he has been, and ever more 
 shall be, the same. 
 
 We are accustomed to make a threefold division 
 of Christ's life, though not always in these words. 
 We think of the part preceding his entrance into 
 the world, then of the time which he spent among 
 us ; and then of the years in which he now is 
 living. It is not difficult for us to feel — indeed, 
 it is our common thought — that during the long 
 periods before and since his incarnation, our Lord 
 is the same. We regard his life here, perhaps, as 
 240 
 
THE UNCHANGING CHRIST. 241 
 
 a break in liis career, a change in his condition, 
 while the parts before it and after it hold him in 
 the sameness of his character. 
 
 Let us look, for a moment, at the fact that 
 Christ is the same 3'esterday and forever. We do 
 not need to dwell npon it. I remind you simply of 
 these sayings of Scripture regarding liim. First, 
 " In the beginning was the Word, and the Word 
 was with God, and the Word was God." " The 
 Word became flesh, and dwelt among us." Then, 
 upon the other hand, for the future, " Unto the 
 Son he saith. Thy throne, O God, is forever and 
 ever." Or take this saying of our Lord's, when, 
 looking forward, he prayed to the Father : " Glorify 
 thou me with thine own self with the glory which 
 I had with thee before the world was ; " thus 
 bringing his past into his future and asking for 
 the endless ages only that which in the unbegotten 
 eternity he had enjoyed. 
 
 It is not upon this that I wish to dwell, but rather 
 upon this fact: that our Lord, during the brief 
 interval between the "yesterday" and the to-mor- 
 row, the time which is here called the '^ to-day," 
 was the same as during these years before and 
 after that brief period. We are surprised, perhaps, 
 that this should be so. Our common thought is 
 of a change — the greatest change that could be 
 made; a change which it beggars language to 
 describe. Is it not written of him — and to find 
 it we do not need to turn beyond the simple record 
 
242 CAMBBIDGE SEBMONS. 
 
 of his own life — that the word which was in the 
 beginning became flesh ? Surely no change could 
 be greater than that. He was worshipped by the 
 angels, and yet he was made a little lower than the 
 angels. He was rich, yet for our sake he became 
 poor. Take that sentence of St. Paul's in which the 
 two facts are asserted, that he was "in the form 
 of God," " but emptied himself, taking the form of a 
 servant; and being found in fashion as a man, he 
 humbled himself, becoming obedient even unto 
 death, yea, the death of the cross." Then for the 
 future : " Wherefore also God highly exalted him, 
 and gave unto him the name winch is above every 
 name." Surely as we read from one passage to 
 another and mark these transitions, it is difficult 
 to believe that he is the same in this to-day that 
 he was in the yesterday. 
 
 Or, if we should take the outward circumstances 
 as they are presented to us, and mark the change, 
 we have the coming from heaven to earth ; the 
 exchange of a throne for a manger ; the worship 
 of angels for the rejection of men ; the blessedness 
 of his eternity for the wounding, the smiting, the 
 rejection, which here were visited upon him. It 
 is a giving up of life for death upon the cross. It 
 is coming from that endless brightness into the 
 gloom of the sepulchre. Is there any change con- 
 ceivable greater than this? What, then, means 
 this word of the Scripture which is written in 
 among these marvellous transitions, that Jesus 
 
THE UNCHANGING CHBIST. 243 
 
 Christ to-day, in this world, in all its Avretchedness, 
 and upon its cross, is the same that he is enthroned 
 in heaven, in the endless years which are before 
 and after us ? 
 
 We are familiar with the fact that a man's out- 
 ward condition may change without any change in 
 the man. It is not so common as it ought to be ; 
 yet it is not so rare that we do not often recognize 
 it. We mark one coming from his boyhood into 
 his manhood, taking on the responsibilities of life, 
 doing its work, filling its offices, administering its 
 trust, gathering its treasures, and then passing into 
 a serene old age which bears him on to his immor- 
 tality ; but through all these changes remaining 
 still the same, keeping the simplicity of his boy- 
 hood, retaining his quick and vigorous conscience, 
 never suffering to be obliterated the distinction 
 between right and wrong which he learned at his 
 mother's side ; never forgetting the simple maxims 
 of morality which were taught him in the Sabbath- 
 school, fashioning all his life by the unchanging 
 rules of right, keeping the tenderness and sweetness 
 of his affection. We are familiar with a change 
 which is not the change of the man, even within a 
 single day, as when a strong man rises in the 
 morning, makes his prayer before God, plays with 
 his children, goes out into the stress of life, spends 
 the day upon the exchange, in the court room, in 
 the workshop, comes home at night, to the seclusion 
 of his own fireside, to lay off all the harness of the 
 
2-44 CAMBRIDGE SEBMONS. 
 
 clay and all the cares of life ; and yet from first to 
 last is the same man, moved by the same spirit, as 
 really living for God at noonday as at midnight ; 
 as really living for his children when they are out 
 of his mind and he is only working for them, as 
 when he holds them upon his knee or joins in their 
 childish sports. We saj^ of him, from the morning 
 when he prayed, through the day in which he 
 toiled, in the evening when he rested, that he is 
 the same man. Open his heart : no change has 
 passed upon it ; his purposes have suffered no 
 alteration, his affections have not been modified. 
 From morning to noon, and noon to midnight, he 
 is still the same. 
 
 Now these changes which have come upon 
 Christ's life are changes of condition which do 
 not necessarily involve a change of character. 
 To come from heaven to earth, from the throne to 
 the cross, does not show any change in him. In- 
 deed, it is an attribute of a great nature to be 
 able to come from the throne to the manger, and 
 to be the same in the manger that it was upon the 
 throne. The man who is able in all places to be 
 the same, is the oak and not t]ie orchid; is the man 
 of God and not the man of this world ; and is 
 living by an unchanging law. It is saying a great 
 deal, but it is not saying too much, nor stepping 
 beyond the true conception of his character, to say 
 that in his humiliation there was nothing to 
 change Christ ; that, whether he was worshipped 
 
THE UNCHANGING CHRIST. 245 
 
 by angels, or mocked by men ; whether he was re- 
 ceiving gifts or giving himself, he was the same. 
 It is the ro3^alt3^ of manhood to be independent of 
 conditions ; it is an essential part of the divinity 
 of Christ. 
 
 Yet we stand in wonder and admiration before 
 the chancres in Christ's life. I know of nothino- 
 to wliich they can be closely compared. I have 
 thought of a man at home ; a father, great and 
 rich, whose house is furnished with all luxuries, 
 whose children live in his love. From this father, 
 out of this home, a son wanders away; goes down 
 into the "far country; " wastes his substance, for- 
 gets his home. Then the father, leaving his 
 house, goes after his son. He gives up his busi- 
 ness for the search ; spends his money and his time 
 that he may reclaim his son ; suffers for him ; gives 
 himself in sacrifice; at last finds him and brings 
 him home. It is the father who has done this. 
 He is the same man in the far country that he was 
 in his liome ; the same man in his seeking and sav- 
 ing that he was in the repose of his own dwelling. 
 It is because of a love which is equal to the 
 search, that he goes down to bring back his wan- 
 dering, his lost son. And I said, when God comes 
 down out of heaven and is made flesh, he has not 
 become some one else ; he is the same God, striv- 
 ing to bring us back to himself by his unchanging 
 love. Hence, we read this sentence of the Script- 
 ure : that the Lamb of God who was given for us 
 
246 CAMBBIBGE SEBMONS. 
 
 in sacrifice was " slain from tlie foundation of the 
 world." We read again in the words of the apos- 
 tle that God hath " saved us, and called us with 
 a holy calling; not according to our works, but 
 according to his own purpose and grace, which 
 was given us in Christ Jesus before times eternal, 
 but hath now been manifested by the appearing of 
 our Saviour Christ Jesus." 
 
 If, now, we examine the life of our Lord as it is 
 lived before us here in the world, we shall see that 
 it is not held within the common limits, but is 
 connected with a life which is not bounded by 
 time, nor confined by events. 
 
 From first to last he is living as one whose years 
 here are but a part of a life which began long be- 
 fore, and will continue after he has gone hence. 
 His entrance upon life is not of this world. The Holy 
 Ghost descends ; the power of the Highest over- 
 shadows the Virgin ; and the holy thing which is 
 born of her, is called the Son of God. He bears two 
 names. He is called " Jesus, for it is he that shall 
 save his people from their sins." He is called by the 
 angel "Immanuel, God with us." Of the years 
 which follow we know almost nothing. Thirty 
 3^ears out of the thirty-three lie in obscurity. 
 There is not a legend to be trusted. Not an inci- 
 dent is known except the interview of a boy twelve 
 years old with the doctors in the temple. The 
 years lie in their mystery. They are lost in the 
 brilliancy of the ages before and after them. 
 
THE UNCHANGING CHBIST. 247 
 
 As he moves through life he is clearly in connec- 
 tion with the past. He does not say, " I am here," 
 but '^ I came ; " "I was sent ; " " God loved the 
 world and gave his Son." He is continually in 
 contact with the unseen. The heavens part, and 
 the Holy Ghost descends in bodily form like a dove 
 and abides upon him. He goes among the cliffs of 
 Plermon, and his face becomes dazzling and his 
 garments white, " so as no fuller on earth can white 
 them." Angels herald his coming, succor him in 
 his temptation, minister to him in the garden, 
 watch his sejDulchre, attend him on the mount of 
 his ascension. He had but to lift his pierced hand 
 and more than twelve lections of ano^els who were 
 so near that he could touch them would have res- 
 cued him from his captors. He spends nights 
 upon the mountains in communion with liis father. 
 He hears voices which no man can interpret ; some 
 say it thunders ; others that an angel spake to him. 
 He talks with God as a man with his father. He 
 declares that his kingdom is not of this world. 
 Standing here, in all his humility, he says, " Ye 
 shall see the heaven opened, and the angels of 
 God ascending and descending upon the Son of 
 ]\Ian." Thus he lives, not as belonging in Naza- 
 reth or Bethlehem, in Jerusalem or Samaria, but 
 as one whose home is above. His Father's house 
 is be3^ond the wOrld. He is tarrying here with his 
 glory upon him, and it comes even to his death, of 
 which he says, " Now is the Son of Man glorified." 
 
248 CAMBBIBGE SEBM0N8. 
 
 He lived three and thirty years in Palestine : but 
 there is not a spot in the land which can be con- 
 nected with his presence, save only Jacob's well at 
 Samaria, where in his weariness he rested. He 
 reads his biography from Moses and the prophets. 
 In the time of his transfiguration the Lawgiver 
 and the Prophet come and talk with him of that 
 which was well known in heaven, and would be 
 celebrated here for centuries. Surely he lives in 
 contact with the past and with the years to come ; 
 in communion and fellowship with the unseen. 
 
 His teachings were of the same character. 
 Even the people said that he taught like no other 
 teacher they had known. There was a strange 
 authority about his words. The officers who were 
 sent to bring him to the Sanhedrim, came back with- 
 out him, and said, "Never man so spake." He 
 spoke upon themes of the most vital interest : God, 
 duty, immortality, the grace of God, the gift of 
 God, the judgment and the life to come. Men 
 sometimes had talked of these things, but no one 
 had ever spoken clearly until he declared the truth. 
 He taught with authority which intelligence and 
 honesty could not resist. His words remain to- 
 day, still strong and fresh. The world has no 
 system of ethics like the Sermon on the Mount. 
 The world has not yet risen to the plane of the 
 morality which he taught, and enforced, and illus- 
 trated with tlie wisdom which was his in the eter- 
 nal yesterday. 
 
THE UNCHANGING CUlilST. 249 
 
 If we pass to liis works it is quite the same. 
 No one ever worked like him. Others had wrought 
 miracles by the power of God; he wrought mir- 
 acles by his own power. His miracles had long 
 before been named. They were in the record of 
 the past. You find scarcely anything said of them 
 in the Gospel which was not written in the proph- 
 ets. You have but to fix names and dates to what 
 the prophets said, and you find recorded in the 
 Old Scriptures the works which are the miracles 
 of the New. You can read the Gospel almost as 
 well in Isaiah as in John. There was no reason 
 why his life should not be described centuries be- 
 fore he came into the world, for he was living, with 
 his purposes formed, from the beginning. Our 
 plans may come to nothing. With God to plan is 
 to do. God's intention is God's action. God's 
 purpose is as certain as its accomplishment will be. 
 God's to-morrow is as fixed as his yesterday. 
 Hence Christ had but to live out the endless pur- 
 pose which he had with the Father, and his life 
 would pass into this earthly stage and go on into 
 its glor3\ Indeed, we might say that the very 
 works which such an one must do if he comes here, 
 are these works which he did. It is a wonderful 
 evidence of the truth of the miracles, that no one 
 else has done works like them. It is sometimes 
 said that these miracles cannot be true, because 
 they are not common ; we ought to see other per- 
 sons doing the same thing. But their singularity 
 
250 CAMBRIDGE SER3I0]SfS. ' 
 
 is a witness to their reality. If they were com- 
 mon, they would not be miracles. If others 
 did them, the Christ would not be content with 
 them. It is because no one else ever did them, 
 and no one else ever will do them ; it is because 
 in all human might there is nothing like the mir- 
 acles of Christ, that his miracles are true and the 
 witness to his divinity, to his yesterday, and his 
 to-morrow. For we may be sure that if the Word 
 becomes flesh and dwells among men, it will not be 
 content Avith the duties of the common life, the 
 ordinary work, the customary usefulness of men. 
 He will not content himself in wandering over 
 the hills about Nazareth, and communing with 
 nature, and drawing in its strength and inspira- 
 tion, and using these in the years of his public 
 ministry. If Christ is here, he will do what no 
 one else has done. The blind will receive their 
 sight, the deaf will hear, the lame will leap, the 
 dead will be raised up, and the poor will have the 
 Gospel preached to them. If there have not been 
 done upon the earth such things as never before 
 and never since were wrought, then the Jew is 
 right and the Christ is yet to come. Christ is not 
 yet to come to redeem the world. The Clmst has 
 come ; the everlasting yesterday has become to- 
 day. 
 
 His death was in keeping with his life. No 
 one ever died as he died. The teachings of Script- 
 ure seem to be set aside when they approach his 
 
THE UNCHANGING CHRIST. 251 
 
 death. " Yea, though I walk through the valley 
 of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for 
 thou art with me ; thy rod and th}' staff they 
 comfort me." How many have lived in the faith 
 of these words ? Yet, when he came to his death, 
 forsaken and despised of men, suffering under the 
 darkened heavens, the " rod " was not stretched 
 out for him, and the " staff " did not comfort him. 
 He did not go to his death unwillingly, as one 
 overpowered. He gave his life. " No one taketh 
 it away from me ; but I lay it down of myself," he 
 said. No one else ever claimed for his death such 
 power as he claimed. He claimed for his death 
 more than for his life. " And I, if I be lifted up 
 from the earth will draw all men unto myself!" 
 " I lay down my life for the sheep," for " I am the 
 good sliepherd." Men must feed upon his broken 
 body, and drink his blood, to have the life which he 
 gives, and his blood is shed " unto the remission 
 of sins." It was not possible that he should be 
 holden of death. Stone, seal, soldiers, Jewish 
 malice and Roman might could be of no avail. 
 When upon the dial plate of heaven the moment 
 of the third day had struck, he came out from the 
 sepulchre. Had all the trees of the garden been 
 soldiers, with their spears close as the rustling 
 leaves, it would liave made no difference. When 
 the hour had come, Christ must come. Tliere 
 was the yesterday which nothing in to-day could 
 master. The eternal could not be entombed. 
 
252 CAMBEIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 He rose from the dead ; lie revealed himself to 
 men ; he stood among his disciples and reached 
 his hands over them in blessing, and was parted 
 from them, and received up into his glory. 
 Throucrh all his life what claims he made : " Before 
 Abraham was, I am ; " "I am the resurrection ; " 
 "I am the life:" "I am the way;" "No man 
 Cometh unto the Father but by me;" " No man 
 can come to me except the Father draw him." 
 Recall that grandest of all promises which has 
 nothing to exceed it. " I give unto them eternal 
 life ; " I give eternity ; I give an eternity of life. 
 I have mentioned certain features of our Lord's 
 life, that we may see how closely his to-day is con- 
 nected with the eternal yesterday and to-morrow. 
 If we regard the life as a whole, the same unity 
 appears. The endless proportions entered into his 
 being and character. He had the traits of no na- 
 tion, tlie limitations of no age. He was the Son of 
 Man, of mankind in its every generation, in its early 
 purpose and endless destiny. He had the wisdom 
 of Him who was from eternity. His power, his 
 holiness and justice, his goodness and truth, were 
 not human attributes, born of the present, belong- 
 ing to this world. In their perfection was the 
 witness to his eternity. He amazed the doctors at 
 the temple when he was but a boy. He always 
 surprised men. He is still the wonder. His glory 
 was disclosed at times ; but the concealment of his 
 glory was a part of his humiliation. His words 
 
THE UNCHANGING CHRIST. 253 
 
 were his witness ; and liis silence was in keeping 
 with his words. He displa3^ed his might ; but the 
 withholding of his power is as impressive as his 
 miracles. His commandments dechired liis au- 
 thority, while his gentleness and compassion and 
 patience marked kis control of men, and, like liis 
 authority, Avere not of to-day. He was master 
 when he was servant, and servant when he was 
 master. Among sinfid men he was separate from 
 sinners in his holiness. Between men in their affairs 
 he was just, and he declared his enduring justice. 
 Tempted like men, his goodness and truth v/ere 
 his comfort before his Father when .he was to die 
 for the sins of the world. This is a divine career. 
 Yesterday and forever meet in to-day. Stud}" his 
 life in its details ; examine its majestic prox)ortions ; 
 note its revelations and its concealments ; mark its 
 spirit and its word and deed ; trace it from its 
 opening when the heavens were thronged with 
 angels and the midnight air was filled with their 
 songs, to its close, when the sun was darkened, and 
 angry men denounced him and soldiers cast lots 
 for liis raiment, while he died between the male- 
 factors, and on to tlie hour of his resurrection, 
 when he burst the bands of death and the grave. 
 Continue with him in a quiet, reverent, grateful, 
 loving sympathy : let him breathe upon you ; let 
 him open his heart, and tell his hopes to you, and 
 manifest the love which is be}ond all men's; walk 
 with him, rest with him, live and love with him ; 
 
254 CAMBEIDGE SERMONS, 
 
 let his grace fall upon your life and liis blessing 
 become your own experience ; and it will become 
 clear, more and mare clear, that this precious to- 
 day is not his life : nor this with the eternity which 
 is be^^ond. The past is his. He is the same yes- 
 terday, and to-day, and forever. Such a life is not 
 of the earth earthy. It does not bear the super- 
 scription of time. It needs a past to account for 
 it, and it cannot pass away. Nothing is simpler in 
 the presence of the Christ than that which the 
 Gospel teaches : The Word was in the beginning ; 
 the Word became flesh; the Word shall be for- 
 ever. He is, and was, and is to come, the Al- 
 mighty. To him be the glory and the dominion 
 forever and ever. 
 
 This is the Saviour who comes to us for our homage 
 and trust; who asks not our chance thought, for he 
 gave us no chance thought ; who requires the rul- 
 ing purpose of our life, the devotion of our thought 
 and work to him, that as he lived for us we may 
 live unto him in an unchanging love, the same in 
 the sanctuary and in the world, the same in this 
 world as in heaven, with our to-day making up 
 our to-morrow. 
 
 In the light of this subject, we see, first : The 
 grandeur of tliis redemption in which we stand. 
 It is no thought of man ; it is the great, the end- 
 less thought of God. He has given himself for us. 
 He has come to us, carrying out his purpose, this 
 endless purpose of his grace. Let us not think of 
 
TUE UNCHANGING CUEIST. 255 
 
 God as changing, but as keeping us in his unchang- 
 ing love. 
 
 Secondly, in tlie persistence of our Lord's pur- 
 poses, and tlie constancy of his love, we have great 
 comfort. His ways are long. His plans are not 
 affected by the events which break our years. A 
 thousand 3'ears are one day to him. Wliat we 
 name death is a change in our life, not in his in- 
 tention or promise. We are to keep this in mind, 
 that we may understand him and order our 
 thoughts wisel3^ One of our greatest mistakes is 
 in attempting to confine his promises within the 
 brief spaces of our life. It is not the highest doc- 
 trine, but it is a serviceable principle, the doctrine 
 of waiting. We ask men to suspend their judg- 
 ment till we have completed the work wliich they 
 are examining ; and not to accuse us of breaking 
 our word till the time has passed in which the 
 word can be kept. Let us be honorable with God, 
 and be still while his work is incomplete. 
 
 He brings one into great prosperity, and the 
 man blesses him. He takes away the riches, and 
 the man cries out against God. " For all life is 
 unroofed, and the tempests beat through." Let 
 the man be still, and see what will come after- 
 wards. The plan has not changed. The road 
 which led up the mountain has gone down on the 
 other side. When it has passed through the val- 
 ley, it will ascend again. Meantime there are 
 green pastures and still waters in the valley, and 
 
256 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 the man can look up to the hills. Wait now and 
 see what the Lord will do with you. Trust him 
 and obey, and you shall be content. 
 
 A child is born into the world, and his cradle is 
 made an altar where parental hearts offer their 
 sacrifice of prayer, and say in their confidence, 
 " It is God's child " ; and tliey name him with the 
 name of God. It is right. The child grows into 
 glad and hopeful youth. He will be a man in 
 whom his parents will more than live again, and 
 the world will be stronger for his coming. 
 
 The vision fades. The youth falters, his eye 
 loses its light, his hand its cunning. He has gone. 
 The Lord has taken him. The Lord has changed 
 his place, but has not changed his own design. 
 His plan has advanced, and borne the j-oung man 
 forward with it. In another world, in other em- 
 ployments, he will fulfil his career. Hope has 
 ascended and entered its eternal form. The plan 
 of the Lord for them to whom the surprise and 
 disappointment have come has not changed. He 
 meant it for good when he gave them their 
 delight, and his good thought continues with 
 them, and in his time will bear them on into the 
 world whither their treasure has preceded them. 
 They will be satisfied when they awake in the 
 perfect day. They will be satisfied here even in 
 their sorrow and longing, when they can see the 
 unchanging wisdom, the unalterable love, and the 
 endless purpose of their God. 
 
THE UNCHANGING CHRIST. 257 
 
 Again, it is in this unchanging character of 
 God that we have the ground of our hope of 
 eternal life. The original plan of God regards 
 the guilt of men. When he created the world he 
 meant to redeem it : else he would not have cre- 
 ated it. When he saw that all things were very 
 good, he saw the cross of Christ. Sinai and Cal- 
 vary were before him. He saw the tree of life, 
 and the altar of life. The sin of man is not a 
 surprise to him, creating an emergency for wliich 
 he was not prepared. He made men free, and 
 knew the result in advance. He bestows a love 
 which would last. Man destroys himself, but 
 he does not destroy the love of God. He breaks 
 the commandments, but he does not break the 
 purpose in which the commandments have tlieir 
 place. By his sin man changes himself, changes 
 the world, changes his relation to God, changes 
 his destiny. But the love of God remains. It 
 seeks man in his new estate. It gives itself for 
 him in sacrifice. If the man will turn, will return 
 to God, he will find the love waiting to receive 
 him ; nay, running to him with the kiss of wel- 
 come and forgiveness. Those are majestic words, 
 rich in comfort and hope, which are written as the 
 Old Testament closes: "I am the Lord, I change 
 not ; therefore ye sons of Jacob are not con- 
 sumed." The Saviour whom we trust is not 
 born of this present time. He is the same yester- 
 day, and forever, and to-day. 
 
258 CAMBJRIDGE SEBMONS. 
 
 Hence we see that there is no need that some 
 men, some saints, some glorified spirit should come 
 between us and God. We can come directly to 
 our Father. There is no one nearer than he, no 
 one more loving. We can bring our confession 
 and our prayer directly to him. But does not the 
 Scripture say, " There is one God, one mediator 
 also between God and man, himself man, Christ 
 Jesus?" But who is the "man Christ Jesus?" 
 It is the eternal word become flesh; so that 
 when I come to him, I come to God. Jesus 
 said, "No one cometh unto the Father but by 
 me;" he also said, "No man can come to me 
 except the Father which sent me draw him." He 
 also said that he could do nothing of himself : " I 
 and the Father are one." If I may recur to my 
 illustration, it seems like this : when the father 
 goes out from his house to seek his wayward son 
 and bring him home, he is a mediator between him- 
 self in the house and the son in the country. He 
 is not some one who is neither father nor son. 
 He is the father, only he is the father out of doors. 
 He is the father in sacrifice. It is the unchanging 
 love, working in a new condition. The God who 
 is the mediator is the God incarnate. God in 
 Christ is a mediator between us and God who is 
 not in Christ. God here, teaching, leading, help- 
 ing, saving, is the mediator between us and God 
 who has sent him into the world ; and he that 
 hath seen him hath seen the Father. I do not 
 
THE UNCHANGING CHRIST. 259 
 
 come to Christ that I may come to God ; I come 
 to Christ because God is in Clirist. In him I 
 meet the Father. " Who can forgive sins but God 
 alone ? " Yet " the Son of man hath pow-er on 
 earth to forgive sins." We cannot have a divided 
 allegiance of gratitude for our salvation. One is 
 the Saviour, even he who is "the same 3'esterday 
 and to-day and forever." 
 
 Wc see, finally, the reality of the communion of 
 saints. All men can unite in this love of God. 
 Separate as we are by race, by language, by taste, 
 by a thousand things, we can come together in this. 
 Here, around the Lord's table, the yesterday and 
 the to-morrow meet in the to-day. How shall those 
 born centuries ago understand this which is before 
 us to-day in the communion ? Yet there is nothing 
 in our life which will be more familiar to the saints 
 of the distant times than this table which is before 
 us. Let Abraham stand with us and learn what 
 this meaneth. But that friend of God would say, 
 " This is the promise which was made to me. 
 Your own records trace from me the descent of 
 the Christ. I w\as told that in me all the famiUes 
 of the earth sliould be blessed. I desired to see 
 the day of Christ ; and I saw him and was glad." 
 Let Moses come to sec Iiere the fulfilment of the 
 sacrifices which lie ordained ; he who on Hermon 
 met our Lord and talked with him of his decease 
 which he has accomplished at Jerusalem. Let 
 Isaiah come, and unfold his own scroll and read in 
 
260 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 his own words of this whicli is here set before us ; 
 of him who was " wounded for our transgressions, 
 and bruised for our iniquities." Let David come, 
 with his antique garb, with his strangeness of 
 language and demeanor, to be surprised at many 
 things he would see ; surprised at the plainness of 
 our house and the simplicity of our worship ; jet 
 needing but a moment to bring him into S3mipathy 
 with us when his eyes fall upon the table. As 
 we call it the table of the Lord, and with glad 
 hearts gather around it, he would say, '' I know 
 what this means ; I wrote it long ago. I blessed 
 tlie Lord and sang, ' Thou preparest a table before 
 me.' ' They shall be abundantly satisfied with 
 the fatness of thy house; and thou shalt make them 
 drink of the river of thy pleasures.' " 
 
 But this is the crucifixion of the Messiah ; he of 
 whom you sung as a king was given to the cross. 
 "I said that he should be given to the cross. Did 
 I not write of him, 'I am poured out like water, 
 and all my bones are out of joint'. They pierced 
 my hands and my feet." But when he was upon 
 the cross, they mocked him and cried, " He trust- 
 eth on God, let him deliver him now, if he desir- 
 eth him." "I said that they should do so; you 
 may read in the twenty-second Psalm how they 
 that mocked him cried, 'He trusted on the Lord 
 that he would deliver him ; let him deliver him, 
 seeing he delighted in him.' " The soldiers di- 
 vided his garments among them. "I said that 
 
THE UNCHANGING CHRIST. 261 
 
 they should do so ; ' They part my garments among 
 them, and cast lots upon my vesture.' " Fearful 
 was his suffering upon the cross, and he cried, '' I 
 thirst." "I said that he should thirst," David 
 would make answer: "'My strengtli is dried up 
 like a potsherd ; and my tongue cleaveth to my 
 jaws ; and thou hast brought me into the dust of 
 death.' " But they gave him vinegar to drink. *' I 
 said, * They gave me also gall for my meat, and 
 m my thirst they gave me vinegar to drink.' " He 
 called upon God, as one forsaken in his dying. 
 '' I said that it should be so ; • that he should cry, 
 ' iNIy God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? 
 why art thou so far from helping me ? ' " But he 
 was rescued from the grave. Do not think, David, 
 that he was cast into the sepulchre there to remain 
 forever. " I said that he should not remain in the 
 grave : ''My flesh also shall rest in hope ; for thou 
 wilt not leave my soul in hell ; neither wilt thou 
 suffer thine Holy One to see corruption. Thou 
 wilt show me the path of life; in thy presence is 
 fulness of joy ; at thy right hand there are pleas- 
 ures for evermore'." Let David come. Let all 
 who are able to remember the atoning death of the 
 ]\Iessiah, who is the Son of God, join in this sacra- 
 ment. Of all the goodly fellowship in the house- 
 hold of this ancient church, not one will be more 
 welcome, not one will be more at home, than the 
 saints of the elder time who looked for the Messiah 
 beforehand ; and wrote the story of his redemption 
 
262 CAMBRIDGE SERMOJ^S. 
 
 in promises and songs, whose meaning they little 
 knew, but whose meaning we have come to see. 
 
 Brethren, this is forever. We are going on to 
 behold this unchanging Christ in fellowship with 
 the prophets and with the apostles. It is asked if 
 the Lord will wear forever the body of his humili- 
 ation. I believe that is the common thought. 
 The catechism encourages us to believe that ever- 
 more in heaven we shall see the nail-prints and the 
 thorn-prints and the spear-prints. It maybe so ; I 
 do not know. We shall know soon. But I have 
 this fancy — it is little more than a fancy — that 
 our Lord will not be forever " mortgaged to our 
 humanity," but bringing all our humanity up to the 
 plane of Jesus of Nazareth, will be incarnate in all 
 his ransomed ones ; and that then we shall see 
 more clearly what that word meaneth which 
 teaches us that the church is '' the body of Christ." 
 
 Certainly we shall see him ; whatever form he 
 wears we shall see him and know him. His un- 
 changing love, his gentleness, compassion, forgive- 
 ness, these we shall see. The Christ whom we 
 behold to-morrow is the Christ of the eternal 3^es- 
 terday, the Christ of this to-day. "I am the 
 Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the 
 beginning and the end." Thou art the same, O 
 thou Christ of God, yesterday, to-day, and forever. 
 Glory be unto thee, O Lord, Saviour of men ; " as 
 it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, 
 world without end. Amen." 
 
XIV. 
 THE WAYSIDE SEED. 
 
 Scripture Lesson : Matthew xiii : 1-23. 
 Text : And when he sowed, some seeds fell by the wayside, 
 and the fowls came and devoured them up. Mattheio xiii : 4. 
 
 What though the seed be cast by the wayside, 
 And the birds take it — yet the birds are fed. 
 
 NOT ill vain had the seed fallen from the 
 sower's hand. It brought him nothing in the 
 harvest ; but the fowls were the better for it. He 
 had that comfort, that he had fed those who were 
 not made to sow, or reap, or gather into barns. 
 Two of them might be sold for a farthing ; but 
 " your Heavenly Father feedeth them." Then it 
 was not too small a thing for a man to do. Their 
 title to the seed was tlie same as his. It rested 
 upon finding it ; upon the care of Him who had 
 provided enough •for man and bird. The breeze 
 bore the grains where the sower would not have 
 cast them. But tlie breeze Avas from above, and 
 the sower's toil and treasure were not wasted. It 
 miglit come to pass that the birds should in some 
 way repay his unintentioned care for them. 
 
 2G3 
 
264 CAMBBIBGE SERMONS, 
 
 Meantime it is no slight honor and privilege to 
 be the hand of the Almighty and to care for his 
 smallest ones, dropping his love, which has taken 
 on the form of seed, where they can find it. The 
 other gentle words of our Lord, of the sparrows 
 which cannot fall without your Father, words full 
 of comfort, with their generous revealing of the 
 Providence which watches over us, easily find our 
 heart, to make us trustful, and patient, glad that 
 we know a God so kind and constant, and a Sav- 
 iour who could bestow the strength of his care. 
 There is a quiet evangel in the lessons of the birds 
 and of Him who guards and feeds them. It is 
 good to read together all wdiich our Lord said 
 about them. It is good to find in this morning's 
 parable that we may share with God this ministry 
 of life, and be his visible Providence ; that a part 
 of his thought and purpose and goodness is re- 
 vealed by us who have this fellowship with God, 
 and manifest his nature ; that his kindness can 
 overflow our hands like 
 
 Kivers, to whose falls 
 Melodious birds sing madrigals. 
 
 It is happening to us all to repeat this part of 
 our Lord's parable. We are sowing as we go on. 
 Some seed falls by the wayside. We have our 
 purposes, and invest our efforts in tliem, and look 
 for a return which shall make us richer. Our 
 mind is on the harvest as we scatter the seed. 
 
THE WA YSIDE SEED. 265 
 
 But just beyond our plan, and aside from our 
 thought, our endeavor falls. There is no harvest, 
 or the ingathering is scant. Still something has 
 been done which was worth the doing. At least 
 the birds have been fed. For example, a man in- 
 vests his money in a factory, and means to increase 
 his property by the investment. The year ends 
 and lie has no more than when the year began. 
 He has no more, but the birds have had more. 
 He has lived, and he has given bread to those who 
 have toiled for him, furnished their homes, taught 
 their children, preserved them for better days. 
 
 So in all kinds of business. There may be 
 times when the pecuniary return is very small, 
 even less than nothing, while yet we have lived 
 upon our industry, and others have been supported 
 by the work ; saved from hunger and want ; kept 
 and brought up to be useful in the world by the 
 wayside seed. Every life has this unintentioned 
 usefulness. If we do our work well, it cannot be 
 but that some one will be the better off. The end 
 which we seek may not be gained, but these inci- 
 dental benefits will not be wanting. These may 
 be greater in real worth than the things we sought. 
 Just as a river may do more good by overflowing 
 its banks and watering the adjacent meadows than 
 by sending its swift currents into the deep sea. It 
 was in this wayside flowing that the bread cast 
 upon the waters came back after many days ; not 
 at the mouth of the Nile, but on the fields over 
 
2m CAMBBIDGE SEBMONS. 
 
 which it had passed incidentally, the bread was 
 found. In the family Ave may find this side influ- 
 ence ; the highest parental hopes may not be real- 
 ized, but something will come from the home life. 
 In the school, the pupil may not prove an apt 
 scholar in his regular lessons, while yet he is learn- 
 ing other lessons by the way. In our philanthropy 
 we may not see our desire fulfilled, and yet we 
 may be doing good in some different method. 
 
 In our efforts for our personal good we may not 
 attain to our ideal and become what we meant, 
 but we maybe growing on every side ; building up 
 our character, increasing in all manly grace and 
 strength, proving our right to live. It is possible 
 that in all these ways we may secure better results 
 than we sought, albeit they be not the same. Per- 
 haps feeding the birds may be better than filling 
 our barns. 
 
 Let us take this comfort as wx go on. We have 
 need of encouragement. We lay out our work 
 somewhat in the dark, and plan at a venture. In 
 few lives is the accomplishment like the intention. 
 In most lives it seems less. We come to middle 
 life, and then to old age, with a feeling of discon- 
 tent. How often we say, how deeply we feel, that 
 life has been a failure. The years of promise have 
 come and gone, and what is there to show for 
 them ? What have we done which needed so 
 much time ? It will be some solace, and we have 
 a title to it, that we have done many side things ; 
 
TUE WAYSIDE SEED. 267 
 
 have touched other lives ; have helped to keep the 
 family, the Church, and society ; have dropped 
 good words, given money, bestowed sympathy, 
 visited the sick, lent a helping hand, while our 
 main work has been running on witliout accom- 
 plishing all Ave designed. Tlie birds have been fed, 
 and the birds are our Father's, and the seed was 
 his. 
 
 Xot all who seem to fail, have failed indeed. 
 
 Our lives are intertwined. We dwell together 
 and work in company. No life moves on by 
 itself, complete in its own bounds. Life is not a 
 sluggish canal, but a rapid stream which brings 
 into its current the mountain brooks and the 
 branches which water the meadows, and perhaps 
 becomes itself the branch of a large river. It is a 
 matter of opinion which is the largest river in 
 our land. It would be more difficult to determine 
 which is the most useful stream, or at what point 
 any one is of most service. 
 
 It is not easy to measure lives, or the parts of 
 a life. A great life may take its character more 
 from some undesigned influence, than from the 
 effort which has sought to control it. A life may 
 do more by turning the course of another life which 
 it has not meant to affect than it does with design 
 in the steady round of its vocation. If Ave could 
 all speak, doubtless many Avould acknowledge 
 this indebtedness to men AAdio did not knoAV that 
 
268 CAMBBIBGE SERMONS. 
 
 they were helping them. Perhaps some would 
 confess that they have been most influenced by 
 those who have not tried to order their ways for 
 them. Wliat a blessed thing it is that the Lord 
 who knows all we do will reward those who 
 do good when they do not know that they are 
 doing it ! 
 
 Would it do to leave all things to this inci- 
 dental working; simply to go our way and be 
 busy, and believe that, wittingly or unwittingly, 
 we are doing all the good which can be required 
 of us ? Very much is said of unconscious influ- 
 ence, and said with truth. Shall we, then, simply 
 pursue our daily work, and think that we are 
 helping the world on without any special care 
 or pains of ours? 
 
 It might be answered that the world is not con- 
 tent with our unconscious influence and incidental 
 benevolence, but is very sure to demand our atten- 
 tion and to insist on decided and deliberate 
 action. It intrudes itself into our homes, 
 and states its wants with persistent itera- 
 tion. The birds may be trusted to come to us. 
 If the seed is not on the ground, they will flutter 
 about the granary and even peck at our closed 
 hand. Who shall say it is not their right? 
 Whence comes the instinct of the bird, of the 
 man ? Larger barns have less warrant in the 
 Gospel than larger doors for small barns. 
 
 The Church is constantly calling for direct 
 
THE WAYSIDE SEED. 269 
 
 personal service. With a definite work to do 
 she summons us to thoughtful devotion. She 
 asks of all men time and presence and effort. 
 Would it not be as well for the Church to allow 
 men to work by themselves, and to do good 
 incidentally; if not by divine methods, yet by 
 methods of their own ; if not in the field, yet along 
 the wayside? I think that the Church will con- 
 sent to this as soon as men in their usual occu- 
 pations will agree to it ; when they will be satis- 
 fied with the wayside results ; when they will 
 build factories to support the workmen, and send 
 out ships for the good of the sailors, and pui'sue 
 their business in the interest of their clerks, and 
 keep up their houses that the servants may have 
 homes, and be satisfied though they get no other 
 return for their investments ; when they will care 
 nothing for the harvest, so that the birds are fed ; 
 when it is a general benevolence and not a desire 
 for a fair personal advantage which is the main- 
 spring of their exertion ; and good done is held 
 equivalent to gain secured; then, I think, the 
 Church will be ready to have men spend their 
 strength outside of her field, and do nothing in 
 her pressing work ; to take what she can find as 
 she waits by the wayside ; to receive the leisure 
 moments, and the money which is not otherwise 
 bestowed, and the thoucrht wliich cannot be more 
 pleasantly employed — content while she fails in 
 her direct work, because she is doing good inci- 
 
270 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 dentally. Till others agree to this method, she 
 will continue to ask that religious service be made 
 an essential part of the leading design of life. 
 
 It is evident that if the waj^side work is merely 
 accidental, there is no merit in it. The birds are 
 gainers, and the man a loser. If v/e have done things 
 reluctantly, begrudging the fowls the seed they 
 bore awa}^, we have little right to congratulate 
 ourselves upon that which has been accomplished. 
 Still, there is pleasure in thinking that we have 
 done good in spite of ourselves, and we may make 
 the good our own by rejoicing in it after the deed. 
 But wdiat Ave ought to do is to take this wayside 
 work into our original plan ; to mean to do good 
 incidentally, beyond the main track of life. When 
 we sow the fields for the harvest we ought to 
 throw some seed to the birds, and to save seed 
 and time for this. 
 
 Thyself and thy belongings 
 Are not thine own so proper, as to waste 
 Thyself upon thy virtues, they on thee. 
 Heaven doth with us as we with torches do, 
 Not light them for themselves ; for if our virtues 
 Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike 
 As if we had them not. 
 
 All things come in fittingly when the life is 
 sound and true. The liighest end a man can serve 
 is to please God. To this he should be always 
 and in all things devoted. He can do for himself 
 and for men and birds nothing better than to 
 
TUE WAYSIDE SEED. 271 
 
 please God. In his Providence every way has its 
 wayside. If we cannot spend all our time in 
 giving cups of water to the thirsty, and befriending 
 the friendless, we can spend a part of our time in 
 such emploj^ment. The Master gives us spare 
 hours which belong in the very substance of our life, 
 and are accepted by Him whose are the birds. In 
 all the stress of common life we have now and 
 then a holiday. It Avould indeed be hard if religion 
 gave us no leisure for anything beyond saying our 
 prayers and saving our souls. We shall do most for 
 ourselves when we have others in our plans. There 
 is nothing better for the poor than that our care for 
 them lie within a purpose which moves on to him 
 who was rich and for the poor's sake became poor. 
 
 He has taught us usefulness as a vital part of 
 piety. He has made us with different measures of 
 ability that all kinds of good service may be done. 
 Some have five talents and some one. This is not 
 chance. In its own place the one is as five, for it 
 is complete. Out of their place the five are as one. 
 
 In some places the man of stout arm is better 
 than he of strong brain. The owner of a thousand 
 acres might not feed the birds so well as a farmer's 
 boy. And the birds must be fed. So God makes 
 farmers' boys. They may own the acres at last. 
 The final honors and rewards will be properly 
 bestowed. 
 
 Spirits are not finely touched 
 But to fine issues. 
 
272 CAMBRIDGE SEEMONS. 
 
 He who in the parable did not count the hours 
 of work when he paid the laborers may not make 
 much account of talents in the last award. Every 
 good and faithful servant shall be satisfied when 
 he enters into the joy of his Lord. It is well to 
 know what we can do best and are sent to do, and 
 to do it willingly unto the Lord. When Brunelles- 
 chi surprised and delighted his rival with the 
 crucifix which he had carved, Donatello frankly 
 exclaimed, " I see truly that you are made for 
 Christ's, and my art is fit for nothing more than 
 peasants." The happy thing is, that both could 
 work for Christ. 
 
 It is essential that life be given to the noblest 
 end ; man can do something better than to feed 
 birds, or rather he can include that in a greater 
 work. This he must do. Nothing is large enough 
 for a man except religion. This contains virtue 
 and the virtues. Love, not labor, is the fulfilling 
 of the law. The faith which saves is a faith which 
 works. We want the revolving wheel, but we 
 want also the stream behind it and the loom before 
 it. Religion moving the life to a holy end makes 
 a manly character, which is free and eternal. 
 
 Put the best seed in the best ground for Christ's 
 sake — your best seed in your best ground — and 
 the harvest will come, and there will be seed by 
 the wayside for the birds. More will come to them, 
 take the years together, than if you thought only 
 of the birds, and cast the seed only at the roadside. 
 
THE Vr AY SIDE SEED. 273 
 
 AVe must secure good seed, and sow it carefully, 
 and gather in prudently, or soon there will be no 
 grain for either man or bird. The best material 
 for usefulness God furnishes to the obedient. We 
 need broad and long views, if we are to do our 
 work and bless the world. The greatest interest 
 should not be forgotten because smaller ones are 
 close at hand. It is neither just nor kind ; neither 
 reverent nor benevolent. One of our wise men 
 said ill the college chapel, " My friends, as a gen- 
 eral rule we are not wont to trifle with our important 
 temporal interests ; let us not trifle with our moral 
 and religious interests merely because they are 
 eternal." We are able to bring to the illus- 
 trating of this theme that life which here, with 
 us, has fulfilled its course and met with its tran- 
 sition. 
 
 A good and useful man has been taken from 
 us.* You will say that it is right to commend a 
 career like his ; and the more fitting that it was 
 not remote from the opportunities of other men. 
 It is well that our young men should see the 
 reward which crowns fidelity, honesty, industry, 
 economy ; which from a small beginning makes a 
 large ending. It is well that bus}^ men should see 
 liow one can be very busy and very successful, 
 and still maintain his interest in the church which 
 holds his vows, and reserve time for its service of 
 prayer and devout counsel. His works here were 
 
 * Mr. E. r. Whitman. 
 
274 CAMBBIBGE SEE3I0NS. 
 
 on a liberal scale, and stand conspicuons in the 
 day long to be remembered within these gates, 
 the day of our great rejoicing. The initials of his 
 name are cut on yonder capital. Yet not in such 
 special, deliberate acts of generosity only, but in the 
 dail}^, unrecorded deeds which enrich a life, did he 
 abound. With a wise foresight and a clear pur- 
 pose, he cast good seed into good furrows, and the 
 harvest came in a hundred-fold. But he never 
 forgot the birds. The wayside was parallel to the 
 furrows, and some seed fell there. For many a 
 year the birds will sing sweetly above his grave. 
 "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the 
 least of these" — He did it to the least, and to 
 the most. He rests; but his works follow in the 
 path and along the wayside where he trod. " Be- 
 hold a sower went forth to sow : Whatsoever a 
 man sowetli that shall he also reap." 
 
 This parable of the sower our Lord applied to 
 himself and his own work. " He that soweth the 
 good seed is the Son of Man." His reference to the 
 seed by the wayside was not directly for the pur- 
 pose to which it has been applied this morning. 
 Yet it was preeminently true of his life that it had 
 its twofold influence, the direct and the incidental. 
 He came with a large and divine intent ; with one 
 work to be done in one way. It was a very broad 
 work. He fdled all the land with blessing. He 
 healed the sick and raised the dead. He taught 
 the noblest principles of conduct and exemplified 
 
THE WAYSIDE SEED. 275 
 
 tliem in Ins own life. He sent tlie benison of his 
 presence into conntless homes, and gave his bene- 
 diction to more children than he folded in his 
 arms. He tanglit virtue to the world. He 
 enriched humanity by his incarnation. The glis- 
 tening of liis garments has made the earth briglit. 
 "Take that name out of the world," said Theodore 
 Parker, "that great character out of the Avorld, and 
 all its influence, and what should we be ? I speak 
 within bounds when I say he has advanced the 
 civilization of the world at least a thousand years." 
 He did more than that. He made our civilization, 
 which before liim gave no sign of even being. He 
 makes everything live whither he comes. The 
 blessings which crowd and crown our lives bear 
 the image and superscription of the Christ. Do 
 we think of it, that liberty and peace and home ; 
 intelligence, manhood, happiness, are not Saxon, 
 but Clu'istian? 
 
 Jerusalem is the mother of us all. Above Beth- 
 lehem our fathers saw the great liglit. From the 
 land in which the Christ lived and tauglit, and 
 wrouHit his miracles, and c^avc himself as the Re- 
 deemer of men, has come the light which is light- 
 ing the world. This is history. He wlio traces 
 liberty and humanity to their birthplace comes to 
 what was indeed the Land of Promise. The lan- 
 guage of the prophet lias been, is being, fulfilled 
 in the advance of a pure Christianit}'. " And it 
 shall come to pass, that everything that livetli, 
 
276 CAMBBIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 which moveth, whithersoever the rivers shall come, 
 shall live." The Christ made, and is making, into 
 a living and divine reality, the words of the prophet 
 which he read in the synagogue of Nazareth, with 
 the spirit of the Lord upon him, and good tidings 
 flowing from his lips. 
 
 It might seem that this work was enough for the 
 Son of Man. . Let him accomplish this and receive 
 the homage of the world ! But we know from his 
 own lips that it was not for this he came into the 
 world. This is the birds' portion ; the seed by the 
 wayside. All this is within that which is greater. 
 He came that men might have life, and have life 
 more abundantly. He worked wonders, and his 
 benign influence lias never left the world. But his 
 eye and his heart have been always on something 
 beyond'. Standing among his miracles, he said : " I 
 have a baptism to be baptized with ; and how am 
 I straitened till it be accomplished." It was to re- 
 deem men that he came ; to gi\^ his life a ransom 
 for many. " Christ Jesus came into the world to 
 save sinners." Prophets and apostles, men like 
 Moses and Joshua, like Paul and John ; or if men 
 failed, angels could have taught the world, set a 
 pure example, made homes and schools and 
 churches ; brought liberty and culture. This 
 needed not the incarnation of God, the loug humil- 
 iation, the sacrifice on Calvary. Angels might 
 bring down the celestial torches, and change night 
 into day. But an archangel could not redeem a 
 
THE WAYSIDE SEED. 277 
 
 soul ; could not purchase pardon by the offering of 
 liimself; could not loose llic bands of a double 
 death, and open before the guilty the gates of im- 
 mortality. An angel could teach men ; only 
 Christ could die for men. Only he could be the 
 Redeemer, the Saviour, the i\Iediator. For this 
 he bowed the heavens and came down ; for this he 
 walked the weary way to his cross and sepulchre. 
 He fed the birds as he passed on ; but he passed 
 on, for he had come to die, and he pressed forward 
 to that. He began to tell his disciples that he 
 should suffer and be killed, and one rebuked him : 
 '^ Be it far from thee. Lord ; this shall not be 
 unto thee." He turned to that man and said, 
 '' Get thee behind me, Satan : thou art an offence 
 unto me : for thou savorest not the things that be 
 of God." 
 
 The thought, the love, the sacrifice, blessed men 
 here, but ran far out through the world and beyond 
 it ; beyond the bounds of time ; beyond the burn- 
 ing of the earth, and the flaming heavens shrivel- 
 ing '^ike a parched scroll ; " into the new heaven 
 and the new earth, and adown the endless ages ; 
 and the blessings which he came to make for men, 
 beginning here, were to be there forever. This is 
 the work of Christ in the world : this eternal re- 
 demption, the bestowment of unceasing mercies 
 upon men, by his grace the sons and heirs of God. 
 
 It is in comparison to this, the real intent, 
 the grand accomplishment, that his other work, 
 
278 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 magnificent and gracious as it is, beyond all 
 men's, I have ventured to call incidental, ser- 
 vice by the way, the feeding of the birds. And 
 I believe that in saying this I have the mind of 
 Christ. One thing is certain, that what he 
 enjoined upon us especially to remember, and 
 even embodied in a sacrament that we might keep 
 it in constant and clear remembrance, was — not 
 his miracles, his teachings, his example ; but this 
 — his redemption of the world by the offering up of 
 himself, the Lamb of God. We treasure his words, 
 and we repeat his life ; but he said, " Except ye 
 eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, 
 ye have no life in you." 
 
 I might leave this subject to suggest its own 
 lessons. Yet suffer me to call to your mind two 
 practical thoughts : The first is, that we must be 
 careful fully to teach the reality of his work. His 
 one work, his inclusive work, we must show to 
 men. We must constantly keep in mind for what 
 he came into the world. All that was related to 
 this should be taught so far as we have oppor- 
 tunity; but the chief work must be told, illus- 
 trated, enforced, till it becomes a part of the life 
 and character winch we are shaping. The geog- 
 raphy of Palestine is of small account unless we 
 become followers of Him who brightened snowy 
 Hermon with his presence, honored Nazareth and 
 Capernaum by his residence, hallowed Bethlehem 
 and Bethany, and was at Jerusalem one greater 
 
THE WA YSIDE SEED. 279 
 
 tlian the Temple. The miracles of Christ have but a 
 transient use unless through them we see him who 
 by these signs showed Himself able to do greater 
 things ; Avho is himself the wonder of the ages ; in 
 whose works among men there is no marvel equal 
 to his incarnation and resurrection ; no might to be 
 compared with the strength of his love. We 
 shall repeat his precepts and enjoin obedience. 
 We shall describe the beauty and purity of his 
 life, till words fail us. We shall say that life is to 
 be saved by losing it, and that our highest honor 
 is in ministering to others. While time lasts we 
 shall repeat these things. When philosophy has 
 grown weary of teaching virtue, the Church will 
 continue her lessons, ceasing not before Christ 
 comes again. But in all this we have not taught 
 Christ himself. He was more than this. He did 
 more than this. He is the Saviour, and it is Christ 
 the Saviour whom we must see and show. It is 
 faith in him, and love for him, which we must 
 enjoin, and the life lived b}^ faith and love. 
 
 Let me take counsel with you, for you know 
 men. I never speak to a man who is not before 
 long to quit the world and find the judgment. 
 What shall I say to men ? Is it incidental or essen- 
 tial mercy wliich will serve them now and to the 
 end? Sometimes the issue is imminent. I 
 stand at the bedside of a dying man. His min- 
 utes are few, and the minister's words must be 
 brief. They must be true words, fitly spoken. 
 
280 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 The fading tapestry of a human life needs apples 
 of gold. Shall I read the Sermon on the Mount 
 to his cold, dull ears, or answer the pleading of 
 his e3'^es with maxims of morality ? Should I not 
 rather follow the divine example, and turn the 
 anxious gaze to God in penitence and love, putting 
 upon his faltering lips the cry of his brother pub- 
 lican — " God be merciful " — "be merciful to me? " 
 Should I not teach him another pra^^er, which 
 brought its answer of mercy — '' Lord remember 
 me ? " From tlie broken and contrite heart let these 
 petitions rise, with mind and heart clinging to him 
 who taught them to men. If he is saved it is 
 Christ himself who saves him ; who died for him 
 — died for him. 
 
 The man who suffered at our Saviour's side, who 
 from the cross followed him that day into Para- 
 dise, had heard little in his wild career of the 
 teachings of Jesus, so pure and blessed ; had seen, 
 it may be, not one of his works of mercy; but in 
 that awful moment he saw Christ ; he knew his 
 righteousness; he proclaimed his royalty; he com- 
 mitted himself to him; he lifted up his voice in 
 confession, — and it was the only voice there which 
 did confess him, — and the lost sheep, bruised, and 
 torn, and bleeding, died on the Shepherd's shoulder 
 and found life. The Christ whom he knew, and the 
 Christ whom he trusted, the Christ who saved, 
 was in literal truth Christ crucified. Wherever 
 this Gospel is preached, and this story is told of a 
 
TUE WAYSIDE SEED. 281 
 
 man who was saved, the world will see that it was 
 Christ on the cross who saved ; it was tlie hands 
 that were made strong by the nails whicli opened 
 the celestial gates to a ransomed soul, who fled 
 from the body of death into tlie embrace of life. 
 The other thouG^ht is kindred to this. We are to 
 have the man's portion of Christ's words ; not the 
 birds' alone. The incidental benefits of our Lord's 
 life are too great for us ; arQ not great enough for 
 us, seeing that he is Christ. It is not the desert 
 of the receiver, but the grace of the giver, which 
 makes the gift. We should be grateful for the 
 crumbs ; yet he calls us to the feast. We are not 
 birds who must needs take what we chance to And, 
 but God's children, in liis house, in his love, way- 
 ward and hungry, but his children still ; and we 
 can choose and take his best gifts. If we open 
 our heart under the sower's hand the choicest 
 wheat will fall and keep falling upon us. The 
 wisdom of Christ was great in his parables ; it was 
 at its height in his death. His power was won- 
 derful in his miracles ; it was at its best in his 
 crucifixion. His grace was large in his patience, 
 his comfort, his S3'mpathy, his help. It was 
 boundless when he gave himself to the cross for 
 our sake. We can have him at his best ; his 
 wisest wisdom, liis strongest strength, his divin- 
 est grace. The larger holds the large ; Christ 
 redeeming is Christ teaching, healing, blessing, 
 enlarged. We can have the best and the whole, 
 
282 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 the Christ who is enthroned above, the temple and 
 the liglit of heaven ; the Toyal Lamb, the Redeemer- 
 King. To Him must we look; to the real Saviour, 
 as he really saves. When we have found him we 
 have found life. From the good ground we are 
 shall spring up the good seed he sows, and our life 
 shall be fruitful; a delight to us, a gladness to the 
 world, a glory to him. 
 
 Thus once again the sower sows the seed. May 
 the birds be the richer for it — the birds and the 
 men. 
 
XV. 
 
 TRUTH COMMENDING ITSELF. 
 
 Scripture Lessor : I. Cor. i: 17-31. 
 
 Text : By manifestation of the truth commending ourselves 
 to every man's conscience in the sight of God. 11. Cor. iv : 2. 
 
 THIS was a noble confidence. It was a personal 
 confidence. This man, called to do a work 
 whicli before his time had not been done in the 
 world, had that assurance which comes from the be- 
 lief that one is doing the will of God, and the addi- 
 tional conviction that he is also approving himself 
 to men ; that lie is not only serving God, but serv- 
 ing men ; that he has the commendation of every 
 man's conscience, when that conscience is in the 
 presence of God. ^Manifestly it was upon this that 
 this man must rely in his work. He could not 
 compel men ; he had no devices by which he could 
 attract them. He could simply tell them the truth 
 as it was committed to him. If it did not com- 
 mend itself to their consciences, it was spoken in 
 vain. If he had been willing by any other meth- 
 ods to attract them — for doubtless he might have 
 
284 CAMBBIBGE SERMONS, 
 
 gathered a school if he would, and have gained 
 many follo\Yers — still he would not have accom- 
 plished his purpose unless he had gained the con- 
 science of those whom he taught, because his work 
 must needs be done in the hearts of men, where 
 their motives, and purposes, and character are made 
 up. 
 
 The apostle is speaking here in words of great 
 strength, which suggest two lines of eomimenda- 
 tion. In the first place, the gospel itself, the sub- 
 stance of it, commends itself to every man's con- 
 science. Secondly, in its method, in the manner 
 of its presentation, the gospel commends itself to 
 the consciences of men. It is upon this latter fact 
 rather than upon the former, that I shall speak 
 to you this morning ; that the method of the gos- 
 pel commends itself to every man's conscience, 
 when that conscience is face to face with God. 
 
 There are three grand words here, around which 
 the life of this man formed itself. God, con- 
 science, truth; God above, conscience within, truth 
 between, touching God on the upper side of it ; 
 touching man on the lower side of it, and 
 in this trinity of God, conscience, truth, God's 
 purposes are accomplished in the world, and man's 
 redemption is secured. 
 
 What do we mean by the gospel ? It is briefly 
 expressed in that evangel which lies within the 
 evangel : " God so loved the world that he gave his 
 Son." Upon this our faith and our preaching rest. 
 
TRUTH COMMENDING ITSELF. 285 
 
 The design of the gospel is so to control men's 
 lives and thoughts that they shall be in right 
 relations with God; that it shall be as true 
 that they are God's children as that he is 
 their father ; that they shall be loving and 
 obedient children, and shall receive liis continual 
 care and all the blessings of his affection ; and the 
 manner in wliich this truth comes to us commends 
 itself to the conscience of men. 
 
 Let me ask j^ou, then, to notice these things. In 
 the first place, if there be any such gospel as this, 
 manifestly the very first thing in it — that which 
 cannot be left out, that which cannot be changed 
 tliough everything else were changed — the first 
 thing is that the gospel shall be from God. It is 
 grace, God's grace ; it is forgiveness, God's for- 
 giveness. It is the restoration to right relations 
 with God, and these God must determine ; it is the 
 entrance of man into God's house and into his 
 heart. Evidently, then, the gospel must be divine ; 
 it must come from above. However much men 
 may think, and desire, and beheve, nothing has 
 any authority until God gives it. The common 
 word " testament " carries this idea. A testament 
 is a will. The value of the will is in the siGrnature. 
 It may be drawn by the best lawyer in tlie land ; 
 it may be filled with the most generous and judi- 
 cious provisions ; it may be engrossed upon the 
 finest parchment by the most skilful penman in 
 the world ; yet it is only worth so much as the 
 
286 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 bare parchment is worth until the man who owns 
 the property signs it. It is so with this New 
 Testament. St. Paul could not make it ; no man, 
 not all men together, could make it ; the thoughts 
 of men are not to be trusted, until God, with his 
 own hand, writes his name. This should be clearly 
 understood, because so often men think that they 
 can make a gospel ; that they can reason it out, or 
 that it can spring up within them. We can deter- 
 mine the kind of will our rich neighbor ought to 
 make, but he does not always make the sort of 
 will we should have written. God makes his own 
 testament, and not until he signs it is it a testa- 
 ment. 
 
 Then, again, it must have its human side. If 
 this is the redemption of men, it must come to 
 men ; it must enter into them and be wrought out 
 among them. We can see how fitting and neces- 
 sary it is that there should be one among men, 
 having their form and estate, living before them 
 the life that God's children ought to lead; 
 illustrating his righteousness, declaring his grace, 
 and proving its power and simplicity in his own 
 open experience. We are convinced that the 
 gospel must have its human as well as its divine 
 side. 
 
 I do not know that we should have thought this 
 out, yet it seems probable that we should have 
 planned it somewhat in this way, because these 
 two ideas have entered into the religious thought 
 
TRUTH COMMENDING ITSELF, 287 
 
 of different natures. They have believed that God 
 has come down among men, and has lived and 
 worked in human form. This gospel which St. 
 Paul preached is divine ; the word that was in the 
 beginning with God and was God, has made it and 
 taught it. It is human ; the divine word was 
 made flesh and dwelt among men, and we have 
 seen his glory. Must a gospel bo divine ? Christ 
 is divine. IMust a gospel be human ? Christ is 
 human. To create and bestow the gospel God 
 was manifest in the flesh. In this the gospel com- 
 mends itself to us. 
 
 But passing from this, it is reasonable to expect 
 that a gospel coming to men will be preached by 
 men ; that it will not be written upon the heavens, 
 or declared by mystic signs among the stars. God 
 works by men. Every nation has its prophet. 
 It seems to be one of the primal and essential 
 thoughts of men that if God ever speaks to the 
 Avorld, he will speak by men. Hence when this 
 gospel comes by men it uses the most natural 
 method. The most simple way in which God can 
 speak to the world, is by speaking to certain men 
 and letting tliem utter the truth to the nations. 
 That is the metliod of the gospel. If we take the 
 life of that apostle who more tlian any other has 
 been the minister of God's gospel to the world, we 
 see how this truth is fulfilled, so tliat the life of 
 St. Paul may be considered a part of the metliod 
 of the gospel. 
 
288 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 If you examine the life of this man you will 
 see how wonderfully suited he was to this work. 
 He belonged in the world. He had a rare advan- 
 tage in that he was of Hebrew parentage while he 
 was a Roman citizen. He was not born in Italy 
 nor in Palestine, but between the two, in the 
 Asiatic province of Cilicia. He was a man of 
 great ability ; a man of learning, trained in all 
 which the schools of Tarsus could teach him, and 
 in that special instruction wliich was given at 
 Jerusalem. A man of great sincerity and fidelity ; 
 of great independence and generosity; a man 
 just and faithful, disposed to give himself in all 
 sacrifice and devotion for men ^ tender, tearful — 
 the tears of St. Paul, which he confesses, are one 
 of his marked characteristics — a man of patriot- 
 ism, witli an unchanging attachment to his own 
 people*, thoroughly, at first narrowly, religious and 
 determined to have a conscience void of offence in 
 the siorht of God and men. 
 
 o 
 
 This is the man who comes to us with the gos- 
 pel of God , a man Avho stood so near to Christ 
 and those who were the closest to him, that he 
 could almost hear his words as they were spoken. 
 A man who had come into this truth by a pro- 
 found personal experience ; who was not called 
 upon to give to others that which he had not felt 
 himself. He came through tliat humbling way by 
 which publicans must come, tearing himself from 
 the associations and hopes of his life, and giving 
 
TRUTH COMMENDING ITSELF 2S9 
 
 Iiinisclf up to one wlio ]iacl no renown, ana upon 
 whose cross there rested not that glory, wliich, 
 looking back, we now can discern. 
 
 This man, with tliese personal traits, and this 
 personal experience, Avent to Corinth, and is going 
 througli the world, declaring the truths of the gos- 
 pel of Clirist. I do not say that the gospel is true 
 because St. Paul preached it, but I do say that it 
 is a very strong testimony to the truth of the gos- 
 pel that St. Paul believed it. The man gives weight 
 to his belief. Tlie value and the validity of a law- 
 yer's, a physician's, a philosoplier's, a mechanic's 
 judgment depends greatly uj)on the character and 
 knowledge of the man. This man, in all the 
 strength and sublimity and simplicity of his char- 
 acter, stands forth as a personal witness to a gos- 
 pel which had satisfied his conscience, had. met 
 the wants of his life, had rewarded him for his 
 sacrifice, had given him assurance in his work, and 
 fortitude and cheerfulness in imprisonment and 
 under the shadow of a cruel death. 
 
 Thus the gospel, coming to us with its divine 
 and human character, and coming to us in this 
 personal method, commends itself to every man's 
 conscience. 
 
 I might add to this the lives of the other apos- 
 tles, who Avere men standing near to Christ and 
 who received the gospel in such a Avay that it 
 changed their life, and made them give their 
 testimony to its truth, even in loss and death. I 
 
290 CAMBRIDGE SEE2I0I^S. 
 
 miglit bring to your notice the list of men in later 
 times — wise and saintly men; confessors and 
 martyrs — who have taken this truth to prove it 
 under all varieties and conditions of life, and who, 
 having satisfied tliemselves of its power, have 
 become the ministers of it to others. 
 
 I might present to you the long catalogue of 
 the noble and the good, the wise and the brave ; 
 the men who have done most to dignify and 
 ennoble humanity ; men whose lives for purity 
 never have been exceeded, whose spirit for nobil- 
 ity never has been excelled ; who confess before ns 
 that the gospel meets all the requirements of their 
 nature, and enables them cheerfully to become its 
 witnesses to the conscience of men through all the 
 world. But npon this I cannot dwell. 
 
 Let me ask you to notice, in the third place, 
 that this gospel comes to us — it is a part of the 
 method of it • — not imposing npon us a bald 
 authority, silencing our questions, bidding us com- 
 mit ourselves blindly to a wisdom which is above 
 ns. It comes answering our questions; even start- 
 ing new questions, that may it answer them. It does 
 not say of any anxious inquiry of the soul, " This 
 is not for you to know , this is for your masters, 
 and for the priests." It solves questions of pro- 
 found import which are answered nowhere else. 
 We stand among mysteries, are full of inquir- 
 ies. A man's relation to God, a man's duty, the 
 way of restoration to God which shall give him 
 
TRUTH COMMENDING ITSELF. 291 
 
 peace and assurance ; a man's destiny and the way 
 to make that destinj^ blessed — upon these themes 
 the world has no clear voice, save where the gos- 
 pel is preached. I wander from man to man 
 with the serious thouorhts which come to me, as I 
 know that in a few years, at the most, I shall 
 go hence. But no man tells me anything much 
 better than I have thought out by myself. I 
 stand among the open graves of your households, 
 to hear you ask, " What is there beyond ? '' And 
 all the schools are silent ; the oracles are dumb. 
 We utter our hope through our tears ; the un- 
 taught centuries have added nothing to the 
 human hopes. Knowledge was never so great as 
 to-day ; the j^^n'^^iit of knowledge was never so 
 vigorous ; but all the study has not added a sylla- 
 ble which answers the questions which we must 
 have answered; for whose answer we would be 
 willing to deny ourselves much Avhich men call 
 knowledgre. 
 
 o 
 
 This silence is siofnificant when knowledoe is so 
 vast and is growing on every hand. Men are 
 bringing tlie heavens down to the earth, and walk- 
 ing along their streets they are wakening the strong 
 forces of forgotten generations, and their life flies 
 through the air and swims through the sea as if it 
 had not been dead for ages. ]\len are studying 
 their own thoughts, and philosophy was never so 
 venturesome, perhaps never so wise, as it is to-day. 
 I can know almost anything that I want to know. 
 
292 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 Nothing is so distant in space or so remote in time 
 that I may not hope to know of it all which I need 
 to know. With this knowledge rising about my 
 feet, until I am half drowned with the mere names 
 of the topics which it presents to me, I ask if 
 there is nothing to be known of the things which 
 are most important. I go through the libraries 
 from shelf to shelf, from book to book, and they 
 tell me almost everything but that which I must 
 know. I press my inquiries and beg for a reply, 
 and the wise men say, " We will teach you every- 
 thing else ; we will tell you what you sprung from ; 
 we will analyze your character ; we will break the 
 light into fragments and lay the stars as a glitter- 
 ing dust at your feet ; but your duty you cannot 
 know; your relation to God you cannot know, 
 what comes after death you cannot know; the way 
 of bringing peace to your conscience and right- 
 eousness to your life you cannot know.'' I say 
 that we can know. In the name of growing, star- 
 eyed science, we can know. In the name of four- 
 teen hundred students in our university, we can 
 know. In the name of our vast libraries, our bold 
 search for truth, our accumulated, teeming, and 
 overwhelming knowledge of everything else, we 
 can know. I know that I can know. God, duty, 
 life, destiny — I am sure that I can know themj 
 and I find the knowledge in this gospel of God, 
 which answers the questions with a voice that does 
 not tremble ; which gratifies this longing of the 
 
TRUTH COMMENDING ITSELF. 293 
 
 heart to whom these are the real, the practical 
 things of life ; and because the gospel comes to 
 me doing \Yhat must be done, telling what I must 
 know, supplementing all the growing knowledge 
 of the Avorld, it commends itself to my conscience 
 in the sight of God. My conscience says that I 
 can know my duty and my destiny. The world 
 sa^'S, " We cannot tell you your duty nor your 
 destiny." The gospel says, " I tell you your duty 
 and your destiny ; " and my conscience smiles 
 upon the revelation and glories in it. 
 
 In its rational method the gospel commends 
 itself to the conscience. It addresses itself at once 
 to- the spirit. It recognizes the spiritual nature 
 of man. That grand sentence, almost the grandest 
 sentence in the Bible, which our Saviour uttered 
 at the well of Samaria, when he said, " God is a 
 spirit," finds its counterpart in another truth im- 
 plied all through the Scriptures. It might be 
 rendered in this Avay : Man is a spirit, and they 
 that help him must help him in spirit and in truth. 
 Some persons, claiming our respect, say, man is a 
 spirit, and they that help him must build him a 
 better house ; they must give him a better social 
 estate j they must provide a better govern- 
 ment ; they must invent a new kind of sepulchre. 
 But the gospel is better ; it goes directly to 
 tlie spirit of man. That word ''conscience" 
 itself is a witness. What other system of 
 religion clearly pronounces the word? What 
 
294 CAMBRIDGE SEBMONS. 
 
 system of learning speaks the ^yo^d " conscience " 
 except as it takes i% from the gospel? To the 
 reason, to the affections, to the will — that is, to 
 the man himself, Scripture appeals. It flashes no 
 sword ; it stretches out no sceptre ; it paints no 
 picture ; it sings no song ; it raises no glittering 
 pageant which may delight and bewilder. It 
 comes with the simple truth to the reason and 
 heart of man. You may hear this truth of God in 
 the stateliest cathedral with all the accompani- 
 ments of architecture and music. You may hear 
 it in the camp of the soldier. The sailor may read 
 it in his forecastle. The wrecked mariner may 
 recall it upon the ocean rock. The prisoner may 
 remember it in the dungeon. The dying man may 
 catch its words from the scroll at the foot of his 
 bed. You may not have the book ; you may recall 
 but a single chapter, a single sentence of it ; and 
 that sentence in its witness to God, and duty, and 
 truth, and redemption, shall be enough to save a 
 man into a righteous life and to give him a glorious 
 hope. In this independence of all things that are 
 without; in this method of finding no heart in our 
 solitude, the gospel commends itself. When you 
 want to think well on a subject, you wish to be 
 alone. You do not ask the architect to make a 
 cathedral so great that its inspiration shall help 
 you in your hard thinking. You do not ask the 
 singers to sing to you a song that shall bring to you 
 a better revelation of your duty in some practical 
 
TRUTH COMMENDING ITSELF. 295 
 
 matter of daily life. You say, leave me alone. 
 Our best thinking, I suppose, is done when the 
 lights are out and the city around us is still. If I 
 am to think upon my duty, I want to think in 
 silence. My reason must be quick ; my conscience 
 must waken; I must not be disturbed; the truth 
 must come to me in such a form that I can take 
 and liold it in my mind without a book, and pon- 
 der it without a preacher. This gospel which 
 brings itself so quietly to my solitude, commends 
 itself to mc. If we cannot be saved until we have 
 trodden the temples of the old world ; if we cannot 
 be saved until the most majestic music bears our 
 worship to the skies, there is little hope for us. 
 But a gospel which you can leach your children, 
 which you can repeat to yourselves as you walk 
 the streets, which in the sanctity and repose of 
 your own minds you can dwell upon and work into 
 your life, is a gospel which commends itself to 
 the good sense of a man in the sight of God. All 
 the record is open ; the Church has not a single 
 secret ; we keep nothing back ; we tell the whole 
 that is given to us for our guidance, and we 
 pray men to search the Scriptures, that they may 
 determine whether their gospel commends itself to 
 every man's conscience in the sight of God. 
 
 The gospel comes to us in this way to give us a 
 standard of life. It does not leave us to evolve 
 out of our own consciousness the principles of 
 duty. It sets before us a rule ; an ideal to which 
 
296 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 we are to attain. It honors conscience in doing 
 this. It honors conscience, again^ because it does 
 not give to us the details of life. It Avould sim- 
 plify duty if a few volumes not much larger than 
 this Bible Avere written, in which all things that 
 men are likely to thiuk of doing could be cata- 
 logued, and numbered, and classified, so that the 
 glance of the eye would show us what to do. 
 
 How simple a thing it would be in the practical 
 questions of ethics, for one to turn to the book, and 
 find the column over which is written the name of 
 that which he is thinking about, and then find at 
 once whether it is right for him to do it or not ! 
 Now, the gospel pursues a different method. It 
 gives to us certain principles which respect our 
 conscience and our reason ; and it leaves reason to 
 judge of these things and to apply them. It 
 leaves conscience to determine how this law 
 shall be laid upon our life. Conscience likes this 
 treatment. A man wants to be out of leading 
 strings. We like to think that God has given us 
 a real liberty, and that he has not told us in pre- 
 cise and minute terms what we are to do between 
 twelve and one o'clock to-day, and between one 
 and two o'clock to-morrow; that he lets us de- 
 cide these matters for ourselves. Conscience likes 
 this, and approves the gospel which leaves to it 
 its proper work. But the gospel gives to us 
 certain general maxims, and these conscience 
 approves. I need not repeat them now. One 
 
 I 
 
TRUTH COMMENDING ITSELF. 297 
 
 or two of them I may mention : " Wliatsoevcr 
 a man soweth, that sluill he also reap," which is 
 one of the fundamental principles of the gospel. 
 Every man says that is right. " He that soweth 
 bountifully shall reap also bountifully ; and he 
 that soweth sparingly shall reap also sparingl}-." 
 And this: "Every man shall give account of 
 himself to God." And this : " It is more blessed 
 to give than to receive." I might enlarge the 
 list; I think that every one of them commends 
 itself to us. We desire to have everyone of them 
 applied by our neighbors, and sometimes consent 
 that they should be applied by ourselves. And if 
 there be any rules which seem to reach above us 
 to-day, we remember that we are going on into a 
 world where these same relations are to hold good. 
 The Sermon on the j\lount, in its essential prin- 
 ciples, is as true in heaven as it is upon earth, 
 and will alwa3^s be true. If we cannot come to 
 the master}' of all its rules to-da}^ perhaps we can 
 to-morrow. 
 
 Then, again, in laying down certain principles 
 which are to govern our life, the gospel enjoins 
 duties which human commandments could not 
 require. No commandment could require you to 
 love your child. It could prevent your abuse of 
 him ; it could require you to instruct him ; but it 
 could not require you to love him. No statute 
 could make you forgive a man who had wronged 
 you. It could prevent your striking him, perhaps, 
 
298 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 but the gospel enjoins love and forgiveness. God 
 administers the gospel upon principles of equity, 
 which are beyond statutes ; and in doing this it 
 commends itself to our conscience. 
 
 But advancing once more, the gospel commends 
 itself to a man's conscience by the way in which it 
 regards a man. We are sensitive, and we ought to 
 be. The gospel treats a man with respect. I 
 should like to repeat that, because this method is 
 not always followed : The gospel treats manhood 
 with great respect. It does not try to drive him ; 
 it does not scold him ; it does not denounce him 
 and call him by opprobrious epithets. It never 
 once forgets that a man is a child of God ; it never 
 overlooks the fact that a man is to live forever. 
 It finds the column of the temple lying in the dust 
 and the sand driven over it. But it does not call 
 it rubbisli ; it calls it a column ; a fallen column. 
 It rebuilds the temple out of this single shaft ; it 
 marks the beaut}^ of the material, the sublimity of 
 the proportions, the very carving and tracery of 
 the shattered capital, and seeks to raise it up and 
 to construct a house around it. The gospel speaks 
 of man as fallen ; but it is man who has fallen ; and 
 fallen man has conscience, and reason, and will, and 
 the love of God, and the endless 3^ears. It calls 
 man dead in trepasses and sins ; but it offers to 
 this man eternal life. It pronounces him guilty ; 
 it proffers to him righteousness. I ask you if all 
 the books of men treat our common manhood with 
 
TRUTH COMMENDING ITSELF. 299 
 
 that respect and dignity with which the gospel 
 always treats it. 
 
 Then it deals impartially with us ; it makes no 
 account of race, or class, or estate. It treats every 
 man in his own personality. It never confuses 
 men one Avith another. It respects conscience 
 with such decrees as this : '* Who art thou that 
 judgest another man's servant? To his own mas- 
 ter he standeth or falleth." We like tliat sentence. 
 We are glad to know that w^hen we stand before 
 God we shall not be judged for the deeds of our 
 ancestors, or the deeds of oar neighbors. Only my 
 own life have I to answer for. For its short- 
 comings I must be judged ; for its repentance I 
 may be accepted. Solitary and alone a man may 
 be in his piety, but he shall have that piety re- 
 membered in the Da}^ Independent individual, 
 free, with his freedom always kept in mind, the 
 man is judged by the law of liberty. I know that 
 I do what I choose to do ; I feel that it is right 
 that God should judge me by that which I choose 
 to do. It is a cardinal principle of the gospel, and 
 conscience pronounces it just. Indeed, conscience 
 wanders along these lines of divine truth, and 
 pausing at every sentence, gives its approval : 
 ** That is right ; that is just ; that is true." From 
 first to last tlie principles of God's government, 
 the principles of God's grace, are just. If I fall 
 beneath them, they are just. If, to give 
 account of the deeds which I am doing is my ruin, 
 
300 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 it is just that I should give an account of tlie 
 deeds which I am doing. The work of the gospel 
 is thorough upon both sides ; thorough upon the 
 side of its law, its assertion of principle ; thorough 
 upon that which it calls us to do. It respects man 
 by making man to bear his part in the work of liis 
 own redemption. Redemption is a common word 
 in the Scriptures, but it is not more common than 
 repentance. We are told that we have gone away 
 from God. We are told of the regeneration of 
 God's Spirit ; but we are bidden to make to our- 
 selves a new heart and a new spirit. We are told 
 of Christ's salvation, but not as if we were to be 
 driven into Paradise because Christ has died. It 
 is as thorough upon this side when it says, " Work 
 out your own salvation, for it is God which 
 worketh in you." The gospel which brings to me 
 the assured truth of God and the assured 
 truth of my own life and duty, commends 
 itself to my conscience. I believe, if I am 
 saved, it is because of Christ's redemption ; 
 I believe, if I am saved by Christ's redemption, it 
 is because I repent of my sins and trust him. I 
 believe that I have the salvation of Clirist ; I be- 
 lieve that I must work out my own salvation. And 
 it is in this thoroughness, this breadth, this large- 
 ness of its assertion, that the gospel commends 
 itself to the conscience of a thouglitful man. 
 
 Brethren, there are many more things which 
 might be presented, upon which I cannot detain 
 
TRUTH COMMEXDIXG ITSELF. 301 
 
 you now. If this which I have said is true, it will 
 be found true wlieu you have gone to your homes, 
 and when you think upon it by the way. If the 
 gospel is that wliich St. Paul chiinied it to be, it 
 will commend itself to your conscience. I do not 
 know what you will do with it. You may not sub- 
 mit your life to it; you may disown it; you may 
 reject its duties and its graces. But if it is God's 
 gospel, your conscience will say that it is right. 
 So kind is it, so helpful, speaking great words of 
 us, and starting great hopes for us. How it raises 
 us up, and makes our manhood vast and eternal, 
 and brings to us the beginning of an endless des- 
 tiny, whose glories we can only dimly see while 
 upon their shadowy confines we are waiting. 
 Brethren, I cannot answer for you; you do not 
 need it, nor wish it. A man must be the judge 
 for himself. One thing I know: It is no hasty 
 thought; it is no narrow opinion, after a brief, 
 contracted, uneventful experience. One thing I 
 know : that the gospel of Christ commends itself 
 to my conscience as I stand here in the sight of 
 God. I could not describe myself so well as the 
 Bible has described me. No one will ever care to 
 write the story of my life ; but no man ever could 
 write it as it is written here. I have lived through 
 ahnost all the Bible, and the rest is not far dis- 
 tant. It tells the truth about me; it answers 
 every question 1 ask which is of great account; 
 it saLislies the lonomos which I have to know; it 
 
302 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 gives me wise counsel for my duty. I never yet 
 liave been sorry when I have done as it told me ; 
 I have been sorry a thousand times when I have 
 not obeyed it. In my most quiet hours, in the 
 hours when I have seen my kindred fall into the 
 grave, in view of all that is before me, I have 
 found it true. I say here in the sight of Al- 
 mighty God, my conscience is satisfied with the 
 gospel of Christ. 
 
XVI. 
 
 THE POWER OF AN ENDLESS LIFE. 
 
 [Preached at Wellesley College.] 
 
 Scripture Lesson : Ilchrews vii: 16. 
 
 Text: Who is made, not after the law of a carnal command- 
 ment, but after the power of an endless life. Hebrews vii: 16. 
 
 THIS was said of the Lord Jesus Christ. 
 When he came into the world to be our 
 great High Priest, he did not make up his life after 
 an earthly standard, suiting himself to the priest- 
 hood, and the priestly service, and the fashion of 
 things which he found among men ; but he had 
 regard to that which was permanent, and set his 
 life into endless proportions. He did not adapt 
 himself to Solomon's temple, but to the temple's 
 Solomon. He knew that in a few years the 
 temple and the city which it adorned would be 
 removed. Men were to be independent of place 
 and time, and were to worship God in spirit and 
 in truth. The worship was to be forever. He 
 saw the endless life of man, and in all his plan 
 and work addressed himself to this, and made 
 
 303 
 
804 CAMBRIDGE SER3I0NS. 
 
 up liis purposes and gave himself to the world 
 as its Redeemer, after the po\A^er of an endless 
 life. It behooved him to do tliis because the life 
 of man is endless. That which is limited in its 
 ability and design cannot meet the requirements 
 of one Avhose years are boundless. He needs an 
 "eternal redemption" and an "everlasting gos- 
 pel." He has all which he needs in the power 
 of the endless life of Christ. 
 
 There is a profound and practical truth here 
 for our own governance. Man is to make up his 
 thought and plan, his purpose and will, and to do 
 his work, not by the lav/ of tliat which is tran- 
 sient, but by the power of that which is eternal. 
 He has an endless life, and in the sight of that 
 fact he is to live. He is not to fit himself to a 
 world which he will presently desert, or to adopt 
 the maxims and methods of a temporary S3''stem, 
 or to set a limit to his 3'ears, and mistake a change 
 of his place for a change of himself. He is to 
 have it constantly in mind that he is to live for 
 uncounted years, and to govern himself in accord- 
 ance with this reality. Not a carnal, earthly, 
 perishing commandment, but the power of an 
 endless life, is to rule his intent and his deed. 
 
 I do not know where these things could be said 
 more fittingly than here. We read the lesson a 
 few months ago in connection with the birthday 
 of the man who founded this college. We read it 
 again on the first anniversary of his translation. 
 
THE POWER OF AN ENDLESS LIFE. 305 
 
 This is his real birthday, so he woiikl liavo said. 
 It is this which we are tauglit in the New Testa- 
 ment, where small account is made of our entrance 
 into this world, and little is said of tliat which we 
 call death, with the knell, the pall, the bier ; but 
 the great event is the going on to Christ when his 
 prayer is answered : " Fatlier, I will that they also 
 whom thou hast given me be with nie where I am." 
 It is rather the beginning than the ending of a life 
 which is in our minds to-night. He was not plan- 
 ning for the years during which he might continue 
 here. He cast his work far in advance. He made 
 it a part of an endless plan. He knew that he 
 was to be, not for seventy years, but for sevent}'' 
 thousand years, and he measured his purposes by 
 that standard. He began a work which was to 
 endure. To erect buildings was merely incidental to 
 his design. He proposed to build characters. He 
 formed a home and a school for those who were to 
 live through the ages, and he arranged the institu- 
 tion around that idea. He brouo-ht tooether teachers 
 who could instruct in the principles of everlasting 
 life, and offered to the scholars wisdom which they 
 could use at once, and use forever. The course of 
 stud}^ covers seventy thousand years, and more. 
 The buildings will fall, the earth itself will pass 
 away, but the lessons will last. Truth is not held 
 to times and things. This He knew well. It 
 entered into his own life. He meant to have it 
 enter the lives of others. In this stands the high 
 
306 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 renown of liis ^^^^iTose. He was wise when lie 
 invested liis endless thought in an endless school. 
 It remains to have this purpose recognized and 
 fulfilled by all who enter these gates bringing in 
 their endless years, that they may be inspired and 
 controlled by the power of an endless life. 
 
 There is but one life in the world — it is the life 
 of God. In him all life has its being. The life 
 of man is at the first in the eternal purpose of the 
 Creator. By that purpose man comes into his 
 personal being Every one's genealogy ends like 
 that given by St. Luke : " Which was the son of 
 Adam, which was the son of God.*' A man is an 
 eternal thought incarnate. The artist's thought 
 precedes the picture and the song. This is after 
 the pattern. One is " before all things, and in 
 him all things consist." Endless life in God is 
 a life of will and purpose. The true life of man 
 contains the same will and intention. " Thy will 
 be done," is not desigued as an afterthought, but 
 as the primal desire of the man. If he sets him- 
 self against God's purposes, he will be destroyed. 
 If he attempts to stand still before them, he will 
 be overwhelmed. If he makes his own purpose 
 move on Avith them, he will have a prosperous 
 career and an everlasting reward. The pagan likes 
 to think of his divinities in repose. Jesus said, 
 " My Father worketh even until now, and I work." 
 He was able to say at length, " I glorified Thee on 
 the earth, having accomplished the work which 
 
THE PO W'ER OF AN ENDLESS LIFE. 307 
 
 Tlioii hast given me to do." We are to do our 
 work, cliaiiging the thought of God into word and 
 deed. It is in tliis that we have failed. The re- 
 sult is not measured by earthly years. To bring 
 us into our phice, to establish us in righteous lives, 
 and make our being a blessing, the Christ lias 
 come and given himself fur us. Henceforth we are 
 to be followers of him, in the power of an endless 
 life. Our thought for ourselves is to rise into 
 Clirist's thought for us. 
 
 Let us notice some thincfs which will result from 
 
 o 
 
 the persistent thought of our endless life. 
 
 I. It will give us a calmness of spirit and behav- 
 ior. The work of the world is not all on us. The 
 Lord reigns. We have our part of his will to do, and 
 only that. There are many others who are work- 
 ing on the same plan. We begin our part of the 
 work, but not the work itself. That begins in 
 God. It is only our part which we end when we 
 end anything ; when we seem to leave our work 
 that we may go hence. Oftentimes we see those 
 into whose labors we are entering, with whom we 
 shall rejoice in the harvest of our common life. We 
 can often appoint those who shall carry forward our 
 endeavor. We can train children and scholars to 
 take our place. Moses was permitted to intrust 
 his work to his friend Joshua. He could do this 
 with great assurance because he knew the man. 
 He could do it with joy, if he knew himself and 
 the events before him. He was buried in a valley 
 
308 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 in the land of Moab, over against Beth-peor, and 
 no man knew his sepulchre. Fifteen centuries 
 went bv, and again he was seen of men among 
 the cliffs of Horeb, still engaged in his old work 
 which was far advanced, when he talked witli the 
 Lord " of his decease which he was about to ac- 
 complish at Jerusalem." The passion of the soul 
 ma}^ well be stilled when a man sees his centuries 
 before him, and beholds the grandeur of his life. 
 He will feel that he has time enough for all which 
 he must do. Days are as many and as long as 
 duties. He moves steadily forward, and finds 
 that, if his wishes outgrow his time, his duty is 
 well clothed upon. One of the wisest of our 
 preachers and philosophers, whose life had been 
 full of enterprise and rich in accomplishment, when 
 he was near the change in his career, so that he 
 could review his hurried past and look down the 
 serene path before him, said, " If I had my life to 
 live over again I would not push." There is little 
 need of competition, and jealousy and jostling, 
 when a man has endless years for his own, and 
 with all other good men, is working out God's 
 thought. 
 
 All our bustling morrows only make 
 The smooth to-day of God. 
 
 In the thoudit of his endless life he has comfort 
 in his weariness and pain. Rest is coming. The 
 good man's trouble is short-lived. 
 
THE POWER OF AN ENDLESS LIFE. 309 
 
 The morning's joy shall end the night of weeping, 
 And life's long shadows break in cloudless sun. 
 
 i\Ien may have killed his body, but after that 
 they have no more which they can do. He escapes 
 their hand, and from the heights looks down on 
 their baffled rage. This independence whicli be- 
 longs with immortality is rich in consolation. It 
 gives courage and patience and triumph. No 
 wonder martyrs sing at the stake, rejoicing that 
 they are *' counted worthy to suffer dishonor for 
 the name." Tlicy know what is before them. It 
 Avas not Wickliffe, but the dust lie had worn, 
 whicli went by the Avon and the Severn to the 
 sea. 
 
 A man can bear all things which have a speedy 
 end. He should be master of himself and of the 
 world. It is a small matter that he is obscure 
 and has no honor of his fellows; that he holds no 
 land in the country through which he is passing, 
 and has no house ; that his work is humble and 
 hard. If in his dark and lowly place he is work- 
 ing on the endless plan which God has com- 
 mitted to him, which soon will lead him into 
 tlie kindly light, it is enough. He is quiet and 
 hopeful. He waits upon the Lord and his will, 
 and trusts the endless years : 
 
 Thus did be live his life, 
 A kind of passive strife, 
 Upon the God within his heart relying; 
 
310 CAMBBIBGE SERMONS. 
 
 Men left liim all alone, 
 Because he was unknown, 
 But lie heard the angels sing when he was dying. 
 
 God judges of a light 
 
 Which baffles mortal sight, 
 And the useless seeming man the crown hath won: 
 
 In his vast world above, 
 
 A world of broader love, 
 God hath some grand employment for his Son. 
 
 II. The power of the endless years will, also, 
 have a stimulating, quickening influence. A large 
 work whose results are of importance, furnishes an 
 incentive to action. We do not wish to exert our- 
 selves for that which is small. In the easy 
 lesson, the simple problem, there is nothing 
 to stir our energy or excite our ambition. The 
 architect will not put his skill into the rude build- 
 ing which will be taken down to-morrow. Set 
 him to the construction of a cathedral, and j^ou 
 engage all the forces of his mind and heart, and 
 the days and nights of years will be given to 
 his work. 
 
 To arrange a school for summer study Avould 
 be the pastime of a leisure evening when the 
 day's work is done. To plan and found a col- 
 lege n-eed the man's highest powers in their best 
 estate, and the devotion will gladly be made. 
 
 To think that our life is endless, and that we 
 are making its character and deed day by day, after 
 the largest measures, starts the blood, gives vigor 
 
THE POWER OF AN ENDLESS LIFE. 311 
 
 to the will and stability to the purpose. All that a 
 man is he consecrates to the sublime accomplish- 
 ment. The teacher's thought enlarges its propor- 
 tions when he sees the encPess lines of his instruc- 
 tion. The scholar presses with eager step and ex- 
 panding heart over the boundless fielfls before him. 
 It is stimulating for a man to remember that his 
 life is leagued with other lives which are advanc- 
 ing, with which his own vision and intention must 
 keep pace. Still more are his desires excited and 
 his designs enlarged by the knowledge that he is 
 working out the endless thought of God ; that his 
 life is a part of God's eternity, and that he is 
 created for a limitless career. To know that he is 
 the child of God, that his life is planned and him- 
 self guided by God , that his work is a part of the 
 eternal fabric which God's omnipotence is construct- 
 ing, this makes a man conscious of the grandeur of 
 being, of the greatness of the thought which is incar- 
 nate in his manhood. Can one think upon his end- 
 less life and bear the strain ? I can understand the 
 burden of one who said, " The thought that this 
 frail beinor is never to end is so overwhelmincr that 
 my only shelter is God's presence." That shelter 
 is denied to no one. Within the calmness of God's 
 eternity the man holds his endless 3'cars. But 
 they are years of life. They are j^ears of grand 
 requisition. It has been truly said that when 
 religion no longer requires that men shall attempt 
 the impossible, it ceases to be religion. God's will 
 
312 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 is a long will. The principles of his government 
 run on forever. His laws are everlasting. Into 
 this stability the man is born. According to his 
 clay his strength shall be. With this provision he 
 is to advance. He is inclined to look back and 
 seek his origin. Divine providence and divine com- 
 mandment bid him go forward. He is promised a 
 spiritual body which shall endure. His spirit is 
 immortal. His works shall follow and attend him. 
 To know this is to be strong. It makes a man 
 great to feel the power of his endless years. 
 
 III. Under this influence he makes his own plans 
 large and long, and works them into a large life. 
 It is doubtful if one can have a generous ambition 
 who does not see an ample future and submit to its 
 control. It is certain that the strong men have 
 looked before them and have worked for the future. 
 Cicero asked, "What will history say of me six 
 hundred years hence ? I am more afraid of that 
 than of the chatter of my contemporaries." " I 
 have had the year two thousand, and even the year 
 three thousand, often in my mind," wrote Macaulay. 
 A greater man than either, Gladstone, said, " The 
 last, the severest, the surest, the most awful 
 judge, is the compensating award of posterity." 
 The power of the future upon character is marked, 
 and the relation of character to the future is evi- 
 dent. " Immortality will come to such as are fit 
 for it ; and he who would be a great soul in future 
 must be a great soul now." The thought of the 
 
TUB POWER OF AN ENDLESS LIFE. 313 
 
 future and its demands is a help in work. Tlie 
 lesson wliicli seems needless may be indispensable 
 at some time. The service that is not rewarded 
 at once may be liberally paid for at a later day. 
 The 3'oung lawyer, Daniel Webster, conducted a 
 suit for a New Hampshire farmer, and his fee was 
 less than the money he expended in his study of 
 the case. Years afterwards the principle involved 
 in it was needed in a cause of large proportions, 
 and his ready application of it brought him his 
 ample reward. He had made up his opinion and 
 learning, not by the dimensions of a trifling dis- 
 pute, but by the power of a long career in the law. 
 In gathering and employing our possessions, 
 the power of the coming years is an advantage. 
 We need to earn to-day more than we can use 
 to-day, and to secure while on the earth more 
 than we shall use upon the earth. If we were 
 always to be here, our investments should be here. 
 It were foolish to place all our goods in a world 
 which we are presently to leave. The instability 
 of wealth comes from putting it in unstable places. 
 The present is continually slipping away. It is 
 the future which stands. The earth vanishes, but 
 the new earth remains. Our Lord pointed past the 
 moth and rust and tliief, and bade men lay up for 
 themselves treasures in Pleaven. They were to send 
 them in advance of their own going. In this security 
 is an incentive to labor for treasure and comfort 
 
S14 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. 
 
 which we can enjoy when onr immediate gains have 
 passed out of our sight. "Riches certainly make 
 themselves wings ; they liy away as an eagle toward 
 Heaven ; " in a sad tone, out of an experience of loss, 
 are the ancient words repeated. Bat wherein lies 
 the sadness ? Can nothing fly but riches ? It is 
 with an exultant voice that the prophet cries, 
 "They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their 
 strength ; they shall mount up with wings as 
 eagles." If the men are flying in tlie same direc- 
 tion with their riches, the parting cannot be long. 
 We can at least determine the direction of the two 
 flights. It will be a help to us, if looking beyond 
 the river, we turn our riches toward the land 
 where we would dwell, and let them rise upon their 
 strong wings, to meet us on the farther shore wlien 
 we alight. To give our treasure into God's keep- 
 ing is to have it through all changes. To use it 
 for him is to enjoy it forever. To think of the 
 permanence of riches will affect us well in our 
 gaining and losing, and getting and giving. 
 
 It is not the thought of the endless years only 
 which is given to us, but of the endless years in 
 which God dwells, where his law rules and his grace 
 abounds; where his children have their home in 
 life and joy ; where the}?- see him, and are like him, 
 because they see him as he is. They call him a 
 pagan who wrote, " It is pleasant to die, if there 
 be gods ; and sad to live, if there be none." Sa3^ 
 " God," and the sentence is sublime and profound 
 in its truth. 
 
THE POWER OF AN ENDLESS LIFE. 315 
 
 The power of the endless years throws our life 
 forward and upward. Time holds us less firmly. 
 We rise into clearer air, and feel the breath from the 
 supernal hills. We find relief from our question- 
 ings; the curious Whence changes to a hopeful 
 Whither, and we hear the answer, see it, aie in- 
 spired by it. We do not set the broken column 
 or the inverted torch over the place \vhere we are 
 to lie. We see our life entering the heavens, and 
 mingling its light with the brightness of the perfect 
 day. We turn away from the deeds of darkness 
 and walk in the light. We come to Him who is 
 " the same yesterday, and to-day and forever," 
 and in his promises find hope, in his mercy life. 
 *' Because I live, ye shall live also,'' he said. 
 Among our graves he spoke : '' I am the resurrec- 
 tion." He gives us more than the succession of 
 years which is our certain birthright. He changes 
 time to life, and transforms being into immortality. 
 He taught his apostle to write, '' The wages of sin 
 is death ; but the free gift of God is eternal life 
 in Christ Jesus our Lord." 
 
 The power of an endless life is designed for us all. 
 It has a marvellous influence upon the young. It 
 teaches them to lay long plans not to be bounded by 
 an earthly commandment, but to reach on for a 
 thousand years. It incites tliem to choose a calling 
 Avhich will serve them through the centuries, in 
 the training it gives them, the spirit it fosters, the 
 good it accomplishes, the gains it secures. It en- 
 
316 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS, 
 
 courages them in study with the assurance that 
 the enlarged mind will be large for the occupation 
 and delights of another world, and that the truths 
 learned here will attend them there. It counsels 
 them to adopt for their guidance here the prin- 
 ciples which will be found in force beyond, 
 where Gabriel and Michael are held by the same 
 twofold law which here declares our duty ; where 
 the reaping is like the sowing ; where it is more 
 blessed to give than to receive ; where all glorify 
 God and accomplish the w^ork which he gives them 
 to do. It is grand, blessed, to be young; to be at 
 the entrance of the years which reach across the 
 world, and in the fullness of hope and promise to 
 go forward in the power of an endless life. '' I 
 have written unto you, young men, because ye 
 are strong." 
 
 To the old, also, is given the power of an end- 
 less life. Their years are not behind them. Their 
 work is not completed. Their faces are not 
 toward the sunset. The light from the long day 
 shines upon their path, and their hope enters the 
 city which hath foundation. This is the golden 
 age of one who has lived by the power of an endless 
 life. Let me read here the words of a good man 
 who in the fullness of his ^^ears went on to God. 
 He quotes the saying of Cicero, " An old man has 
 nothing indeed to hope for ; yet he is in so much 
 the happier state than a young man, since he has 
 already attained what the other only hopes for," 
 
THE POWER OF AN ENDLESS LIFE. C17 
 
 But tills will hardly satisfy," he adds. Then he 
 continues, " There is no ignoring, there is no con- 
 cealing tlie inconveniences, the infirmities, which 
 steal over ns as we descend into the vale of years." 
 We who saw him every day as he moved with 
 labored step and bending form among us, knew 
 ^vlult lie meant. But we saw more than his infirmi- 
 ties. He saw more. " It is a great thing, for an old 
 man to retain his faculties and his natural cheer- 
 fulness to the last. It is a great thing to keep up 
 his interest in good objects, and in his favorite 
 studies and pursuits. It is great thing to be sur- 
 rounded by kind friends, and all the endearments 
 and appliances of a happy home. But greater than 
 all ' to know Christ, and the power of his resurrec- 
 tion,' as a hope full of immortality." 
 
 The last word of Harvard College to her sons as 
 tliey go forth to their work, is the sentence of the 
 Hebrew prophet wliich she has written upon her 
 wall, which she would fain repeat in the cars of 
 her men from day to day, that they may look into 
 the endless years : Qui ante m dociifuerintjfalge- 
 hu7it, — "And tliey that be wise shall shine as the 
 brightness of the firmanent; and they that turn 
 many to righteousness as the stars forever and 
 ever " — in perpetuus alternitates ; God's forever, 
 man's forever. 
 
 Thoughts like these which have been presented 
 were in the heart and in the mind of him whose 
 name and life are now in our minds and hearts, 
 
318 CAMBEIDGE SEUMONS. 
 
 and will long remain in tliis college which he 
 loved so well. He meant that every student here 
 should feel that she is to live forever, and should 
 equip herself for the endless years. He knew that 
 the study of truth in all its branches would be of 
 enduring profit. He sought that by the personal 
 knowledge of Him who is the truth, the student 
 should ffishion her purposes and construct her 
 life. He would have the present the earnest of 
 the future, and the future the fulfilment of the 
 present. He taught the boundless need of the 
 best ministries, and would have that spirit of 
 helpfulness which seeks to confer an endless bene- 
 fit. He would encourage fidelity by the vastness 
 of its results. He would liave it felt that to bring 
 a soul into the obedience of Christ, to strengthen 
 one in the Christian life, to promote piety and 
 holy service, is to accomplish that which will 
 abundantly repay all efforts and sacrifice, in that 
 it will be an eternal good. He saw that it was 
 an endless path which opens where you stand, and 
 that if you will enter it, you shall find God 
 walking with you among the lilies, and leading 
 3^ou where, at length, the stars will be gleaming 
 about your feet. 
 
 He called this Christ's College. He would not 
 have it bear his own name, nor let his face look 
 down upon you from the walls. He meant that you 
 should see the Lord. His last word to the teach- 
 ers was, " Have faith : work and pray : be laborers 
 
THE POWER OF AN ENDLESS LIFE. 319 
 
 together witli God." Ilis last Avord to the stu- 
 dents was, "Work for one another, and try to lead 
 souls to God. Place Christ first, in all things and 
 always." 
 
 This is liis benediction. They who receive it 
 shall live by the power of an endless life. 
 
Press-work by Rockwell t£- Churchill.