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 BV 4811 .G68 1865 
 Goulburn, Edward Meyrick, 
 
 1818-1897. 
 Thoughts on personal 
 

THOUGHTS 
 
 PERSONAL RELIGION, 
 
 BEING A TEEATISE 
 
 THE CHEISTIAN LIFE 
 
 TWO CHIEF ELEMENTS, DEVOTION AND PRACTICE. 
 
 BY , 
 
 EDWAED MEYPvIOK GOULBUPvK, D.D., 
 
 PEBBENDAEY OP ST, PATTL'S, CHAPLAIN TO THE BISHOP OF OXFOED,_&.ND ONE 
 OP HER majesty's CHAPLAINS IN OEDINAKY. 
 
 THIRD AMEEICAIT FKOM THE FIFTH LONDON EDITION. 
 
 WITH A PEEFATORY NOTE, 
 
 BY 
 
 GEORGE H. HOUGHTON, D.D,, 
 
 RHOTOE OP THE OHUECH OP THE TRANSFIGTJEATION IN THE 
 CITY OP NEW YOEK. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, 
 
 443 & 445 BROADWAY. 
 18G5. 
 
TO 
 
 WILLIAM GIBBS, ESQ., 
 
 OF TYNTESFIELD, 
 
 THE KIND FRIEND OF THE POOR, 
 
 THE MUNIFICENT PATRON OF ALL GOOD WORKS, 
 
 AND 
 
 A LOYAL SON OF THE ENGLISH CHURCH, 
 
 WITH REVERENCE, GRATITUDE, AND AFFECTION. 
 
21, Sussex Gardens, Hyde Pakk, ) 
 October 17, 1S61. J 
 
 My dear Mr. Gibbs, 
 
 You have kindly permitted me to inscribe to you this 
 little treatise on the Christian Life, Most heartily do I wish that 
 I had some worthier tribute of respect and affection for one, who 
 has shown me such unceasing kindness, and has been the instru- 
 ment of such incalculable blessings to my flock. But I know you 
 will believe that my acknowledgement of all that I owe to you is, 
 if not of any great value, at any rate sincere. 
 
 We have laboured much and happily together in the cause of 
 the New Church, which your munificence has enabled us to com- 
 plete and to endow. Perhaps this little book may serve as a me- 
 morial of the happy hours so spent in one another's company, — 
 hours which, I can assure you, have been some of the pleasuntest 
 of my life. 
 
 The leading thoughts of my treatise are so well expressed by 
 a passage from a work which you gave me. that I should like to 
 adopt it as my motto : 
 
 " The oftener I read Jeremy Taylor, the more I am satisfied of the ex- 
 cellence of his method of recommending holiness to the heart and imagina- 
 tion, as well as to the understanding of frail man by dwelling on the infinite 
 love and condescension of our gracious Father in taking so much pains to 
 make it attainable, if not easy ; and by mixing it v/p with every act and 
 duty of ordinary life, so as to make every hour spent in the world, as well 
 as in the closet, when, sanctified by its motive, an act of religion and 
 obedience. I have often wished to hear Christianity inculcated from the 
 pulpit on this principle."— <Sir Johii Eichardson, as quoted in the Life of 
 Mr. Joshua Watson. Vol. ii.p. 10. 
 
 You will, I think, see that these three thoughts, — the power 
 of attaining, under God's Grace, a real, though gradual, growth in 
 sanctity ; the possibility of making the homeliest acts of common 
 life contribute to this growth ; and the expediency of giving to 
 such topics as these much more room than they generally occupy 
 in Christian Teaching, — have been more or less present to my 
 
vi Epistle Dedicatory. 
 
 mind throughout my argument. I have to thank you for giving 
 me the opportunity of here stating the fundamental prmciples of 
 my little book so tersely and clearly. 
 
 There is one point connected with this treatise on which an ex- 
 planation seems necessary. By those who know what an all-im- 
 portant position the Holy Scriptures hold in the Economy of Grace, 
 it will be remarked as a grievous omission, that in that part of the 
 work, which professedly treats of Devotional Exercises, there should 
 not be a chapter devoted to the study of Scripture. My answer is, 
 that a single chapter could not do justice to a subject so wide and 
 important, and that I have already published a small volume upon 
 it, which has met with a fair circulation and a kind reception. I 
 do not wish to repeat myself in print. 
 
 It only remains to add, by way of explaining some peculiarities 
 of the style, that these pages, before they were thrown into the 
 shape of a treatise, have been orally delivered, some of them in 
 your own hearing, in the form of Sermons ; but that the subject 
 of them has been upon my mind for seven or eight years, and in 
 the course of that period most of the chapters have been recon- 
 sidered and written afresh. Faults, no doubt, many will be found 
 in them ; but I trust that on topics of such transcendent import- 
 ance I have not allowed myself to put forth any crude or pre- 
 cipitate views. 
 
 You will join with me, my dear Mr. Gibbs, in the prayer that, 
 so far as it exhibits His Truth, God's Blessing may rest upon this 
 little work, and that what is erroneous in it may be forgiven to me, 
 and neutralized to the reader, through the Grace of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ. 
 
 I remain, my dear Mr. Gibbs, 
 
 Your affectionate friend, 
 
 Edwakd Metrick Goulburn. 
 
 "William Gibbs, Esq., 
 •kc, &c., &c. 
 
PREFATORY NOTE TO THE AMERICAN EDFITON. 
 
 Dk. Gouletjen, the autlior of the following 
 Treatise on the Christian Life, is one of the lead- 
 ing divines of our mother Church of England. 
 To his pen is she indebted for a number of the 
 most useful religious works tliat, of late years, 
 have issued from the press; among which may 
 be named: "Lectures on the Office of the 
 Holy Communion ; " " Intkoduction to the De- 
 votional Study of the Holy Sckiptures ; " 
 "The Idle Word, or Short Religious Essays 
 on the Gift of Speech ; " " Sermons preached 
 during the last Twenty Years;" "Sermons 
 AT the Baj^ipton Lecture in 1850 ; " " Answer 
 TO the Essay on the Education of the World." 
 
viii Prefcdory Note. 
 
 To those of our own Clmrcli who may be 
 familiar with any of these works, his " Thoughts 
 ON Personal Reltgion," if not already known 
 to them, will need no word of introduction or 
 commendation. To others, however, it may not 
 be improper to say, that there are few, if any 
 Treatises of the kind, of superior, if of equal 
 merit. It is a treatise marked by great compre- 
 hensiveness of subject ; strong, practical sense ; 
 vigour and beauty of style ; fulness and felicity 
 of illustration ; and thorough warmth and spirit- 
 uality of tone. Its words are, most truly, whole- 
 some words — even the words of our Lord Jesus 
 Cheist ; and its doctrine — so sound and moderate 
 withal — is according to godliness (1 Tim. vi. 3). 
 There is nothing in it that is dry, uninteresting, 
 unreal, extravagant, impracticable, or beyond 
 ordinary reach and compass. It is full of stimu- 
 lus and full of encouragement. It is a manual, 
 not so much, perhaps, for those who have abun- 
 dant leisure and lead a retired life, as for those, 
 especially, who are engaged in the ordinary 
 avocations of the world. It will teach them 
 how, while living in the world — amid its cares 
 and perplexities — to live above the world ; while 
 
Prefatory Note, ix 
 
 not slotliful ill business, to be fervent in spirit, 
 serving the Lord ; in one word, bow to sanctify 
 the -secular, all-engrossing pursuit, and the daily 
 toil. 
 
 What is thus said, is said not without a 
 thorough knowledge and trial of the book. Soon 
 after its first publication in England in 1861, I 
 procured it for my own private use, and its 
 frequent perusal during the past two years, has 
 not been, I trust, without advantage. I have 
 read it in place of a weekly lecture, to a consider- 
 able number of my parishioners, and, I believe, to 
 their lasting benefit. I have added it as an ap- 
 proved book to our Parish Library. I have 
 placed several copies of it, and to their great 
 satisfaction, in the hands of intelligent and ear- 
 nest-minded friends. In one case, during a length- 
 ened sickness, it proved' a source of much comfort 
 and instruction — its chapter on the Magnificence 
 of Prayer, solacing almost the dying hour. 
 
 Li the present edition a few verbal changes 
 have been made, in order that it might be the 
 better adapted for the use of American church- 
 men ; a reference to a verse in one of the Psalms 
 has been introduced ; and two liturgical works, 
 
X Prefatory Note. 
 
 by. divines of our own Cliiirch, have been named 
 in addition to those recommended by De. Goul- 
 
 BUEN. 
 
 May the blessing of God rest npon the author, 
 and His grace be given to the reader. 
 Laus Deo ! 
 
 G. H. H. 
 
 Lent, 1864 
 
COE"TE]^TS, 
 
 PART I. 
 INTBOD UGTORY, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ON THE LOW STANDARD OF PERSONAL RELIGION NOW 
 PREVALENT, AND THE CAUSES OF IT. 
 
 " A certain man drew a how at a venture^ arvd smote the king 
 of Israel between the joints of the harness^ — 1 Kings 
 xxii. 34. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 Religion -vddely diffused, but of a low type in individuals— the 
 immense motive powers of Christianity should secure larger rest %a 
 — Analogy between knowledge and piety in respect of their diffusion 
 over a wide area and their shallowness in individuals — Is there any 
 defect in the means employed, which may account for this residt ?— 
 The Ministry the great means of forming in man the saintly charac- 
 ter — The guidance of the conscience (as distinct from its awakening) 
 too often neglected in our Ministry— our aim to make good impres- 
 sions, but not to follow them up by systematic teaching — Popular 
 Lectures as a means of diffusing knowledge compared with populai 
 Sermons as a means of diffusing Religion — Neglect of ministerial 
 guidance of the conscience due (1) to a reaction from the confessional, 
 (2) to a reaction from the drj- moral sermons of half a centurj' ago — 
 Earnest desire of holiness tho state of mind contemplated in the 
 reader — This desire is the rudiment out of which the spiritual crea- 
 tion may be, step by step, built up 3 
 
xii Contents. 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 ON THE CHIEF CHARACTERISTIC OF PERSONAL 
 RELIGION. 
 
 " Orow in graced — 2 Pet. iii. 18. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 Accurate notion of the nature of Personal Religion, desirable in 
 the outset — It involves, as its chief characteristic, growth in grace 
 —the essential connexion between growth and life in Nature— no 
 spiritual life without growth in grace— the distinction between 
 spiritual life and spiritual impulses illustrated by the difference 
 between the operations of life and those of galvanism — individual- 
 izing scrutiny of the character at the Day of Judgment — the 
 question of our Religion being personal will resolve itself into the 
 question, Is it a growing Religion ? — this (and no other) the critical 
 question for each of us — Is growth consistent with relapses ? Yes, if 
 the fall have been one of infirmity — the occasional strong impulse of 
 penitent love— the Christian's progress, like that of the tide, is move- 
 ment upon the ic/iofe— Growth in Grace, as in Nature, is by many 
 fresh starts— aU healthy growth gradual — no comfort in these reflec- 
 tions for the indolent and formal — if we are not advancing, we must 
 be falling back— formation of the character, either for good or evil, 
 continually in progress 14 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 OF THE ENTIRE DEPENDENCE OF SANCTITY ON CHRIST, 
 AND OF THE RELATION WHICH THE MEANS OF 
 GRACE HOLD TO HIM. 
 
 ^^ Abide in Me^ and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit 
 of itself except it abide in the vine ; no more can ye, except 
 ye abide in Me. 
 
 " / am the vine, ye are the branches : he that abideth in Me^ 
 and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit : for with- 
 out Me ye can do nothing.'*'' — St. John xv. 4, 5. 
 
 A clear notion of the nature of Christian Holiness essential— 
 The difference of meaning between " Without Me " and " Apart 
 from Me " — the fruits of the Spirit enumerated in detail in Gal. v. 
 22, 23.— Dependence of Justification on Christ generally recognized 
 — Sauctification not an accumulation of righteous acts and ordi- 
 nances, but a momentary receiving out of the fulness of Christ — the 
 
Contents. xiii 
 
 PAOR 
 
 circulating sap, whicli is the life of the vine-branch, not from the 
 "branch, but from the Stock — all graces inhere in Christ, as colours in 
 the Sunlight ; and independently of Christ, the heart has no grace, 
 even as, independently of the Sun, a landscape has no colour — the 
 secret of sanctity, then, is mutual indwelling of the Christian in 
 Christ, of Christ in the Christian — We abide in Him by faith in Him, 
 as being made to us Sanctification — Could we doubt His willingness 
 to sanctify us, even if we had no promise to that effect? — May not 
 our very struggles to be holy be, in a certain sense, a token of want 
 of faith 7 — yet He will not (and cannot) sanctify us, unless we yield 
 up the soul into His hands — and this implies yielding up the will — 
 Christ abides in the Christian by Ordinance, and specially by the Holy 
 Communion — ^how the allegory before us implies that even this Sacra- 
 ment will be profitless without faith— Ordinances are merely chan- 
 nels by which the Virtue of Christ is conveyed into the souls of faith- 
 ful recipients — illustration from the story of the woman of Samaria — 
 Christ the Well ; the Ordinanoe, the Pitcher ; Faith, the muscular 
 action, which lifts the pitcher 24 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 PERSONAL RELIGION BOTH ACTIVE AND CONTEM- 
 PLATIVE. 
 
 " In the year that King Uzziah died I saw also the Lord sitting upon 
 a throne^ high and lifted up^ and his train filled the temple. 
 
 "Above it stood the Seraphims : each one had six wings: vnih 
 twain he covered his face ^ and with twain he covered hisfeet^ a7id 
 with twain he did fly.'''' — Isa. vi. 1, 2. 
 
 The subject falls into two great divisions— The angelic life the 
 model of the Christian— Adoration and Service the elements of the 
 angelic life— Monastlcism discards the latter of these elements— 
 the active services of holy Angels — necessity for work in the consti- 
 tution of our nature— each of us has a stewardship, and a work an- 
 nexed to it, in the great social system— the "business" of the child 
 and of the slave— the two chief scenes, in which angels are seen en- 
 gaged in Worship — the barrenness and weariness of acti\ity, if not 
 fed from the springs of devotion— defective devotion the snare of these 
 busy times— The angelic life has been led upon earth, under the pres- 
 sure of physical infirmities, by Christ— His persistent activity and 
 unwearied devotion— Service and Prayer must interpenetrate one an- 
 other—prayer the spot of God's children— are we men of prayer? . 87 
 
 B 
 
xiv Contents. 
 
 PAET II. 
 THE CONTEMPLATIVE LIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 OF THE MAaNIFICENCE OF PEAYEE, AND THE PRAC- 
 TICAL DEDUCTIONS FEOM THAT DOGTEINE. 
 
 '■'■He that cometh to God.^^ — Heb. xi. 6. 
 
 PAGH 
 
 An effort necessaiy to grasp the idea of prayer— Gradual ascent 
 as necessary to the mind in reaching a great idea as to the body in 
 reaching a great height — Prayer a coming to God — we "will seek to 
 realize the grandeur of this idea — supposed privilege of consulting 
 in our difficulties the wisest and best man upon earth — of consult- 
 ing a departed parent or friend — of consulting our guardian-angel 
 — proof that such intercourse between this world and another 
 would be largely practised, if it were feasible — these hypotheses 
 help us to realize the idea of coming to God, which however must 
 always transcend our powers— God permits, invites, commands 
 our approach — But may not the consciousness of our guilt debar 
 us from access ? — were it not for Christ, it must be soothe syna- 
 bolism of the surplice — difficulty of rescuing prayer from formality 
 — design of this chapter to help us in such difficulties — the exer- 
 cise however demands time — which might perhaps be gained by 
 self-discipline— a little well done better than much done superficially 
 — the end of stated Prayers (as well as the entrance into them) 
 should bo made the subject of attention— we must watch against sub- 
 eequent levity 51 
 
Contents. xv 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 OF THE TWOFOLD ASPECT OF PEAYEE, AND THE NE- 
 CESSITY OF PEACTISING IT IN BOTH ASPECTS. 
 
 " Let my prayer be set forth before thee as incense : and the 
 lifting up of my hands as the evening sacrificed — Psalm 
 cxli. 2. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 Prayer introduced in two different connexions in the Sermon on 
 the Mount — Prayer a means of supplying our wants and also an act 
 of homage to God — the Christian a priest — his sacrifice of the hody 
 — his sacrifi.ce of alms — his sacrifice of prayer — incense a type of 
 prayer — the Altar on which these sacrifices must be made— prayer 
 as a tax upon our time compared to alms as a tax upon our substance 
 — think of yourself as a priest when you offer prayer — how these 
 thoughts may help us against the temptation to leave off, when prayer 
 promises to be dry and barren— we pray for God's honour, not ex- 
 clusively for our own comfort— when you cannot pray as you 
 would, pray as you can — perseverance in prayer under discourage- 
 ments the most acceptable offering— an illustration of this from 
 the writings of St. Francois de Sales— necessity of redeeming our 
 Prayers from selfishness, by (1) mixing intercession with them — 
 (2) and by mixing praise with them— Praise often quickens a tor- 
 pid heart 61 
 
 : CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE SECEET OF SUCCESS IN PEAYEE. 
 
 *' And in the morning as they passed by^ they saw the fig-tree 
 dried up from the roots. And Peter calling to remembrance 
 saith unto him, 3faster, behold, the fig-tree which thou cursedst is 
 withered away. And Jesus answering saith mito them, Have 
 faith in God. For verily I say unto you. That whosoever shall 
 say ureto this mountain. Be thou removed, and be thou cast into the 
 sea : and shall not doubt in his heart, but shall believe that those 
 things which he saith shall come to pass ; he shall have whatsoever 
 he saith.''— Mark xi. 20—23. 
 
 Our Lord's comments on incidents which pass before Him not 
 always what we should havo anticipated— the lesson Ho draws 
 
xvi Contents. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 from the blighted fig-tree not what we ehould have expected— the 
 withering of the tree led St. Peter to reflect on the power of his 
 Master's words— Our Lord replies that His followers should say- 
 words of power like His, if only they will pray in faith and Ipve — 
 the small effect of the prayers of religious persons — may it not he due 
 to their not expecting an answer ?— would they not be surprised if an 
 answer should come? — Our despondency as regards any fruits of 
 sanctity in ourselves— necessity of honouring God while we pray, by 
 believing that He will be true to His promise — asls for definite 
 graces, and expect definite results — A promise to prayer which con- 
 templates in the petitioner nothing but asliing— sublimity and free- 
 dom of this promise .72 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 OF SELF-EXAMINATION. 
 
 " And the Lord sent Nathan unto David. And he came unto him^ 
 and said unto him, There were two men in one dty: the one rich, 
 and the other poor. The rich man had exceeding many flocks 
 and herds ; hut the poor man had nothing, save one little ewe 
 lamb, which he had bought and nourished up ; and it grew up 
 together with him, and with his children: it did eat of his own 
 meat, and drank of his own cup, and lay in his bosom, and was 
 unto him as a daughter. And there came a traveller unto the 
 rich man, and he spared to taJce of his own flock, and of his oion 
 herd, to dress for the wayfaring man that was come unto him : 
 but took the poor man's lamb, and dressed it for the man that 
 was come to him. And Davids anger was greatly khidled 
 against the man ; and he said to Nathan, As the Lord liveth, the 
 manthat hath done this thing shall surely die: and he shall restore 
 the lamb fourfold, because he did this thing, and because he had 
 no pity. And Nathan sa^to David, Thou art the man. — 2 
 Sam. 3di. 1 — Y. 
 
 David in disguise brought before his own judgment-seat— "We 
 never judge ourselves as severely as we judge an abstract case — evil 
 never admitted by the will without some palliation — it is self-exami- 
 nation which makes religion a personal thing— special necessity of 
 pressing it on members of the reformed churches— proncness of self- 
 
xvu 
 
 PAGE 
 
 examination to lapse into formality— necessity of it arises from the 
 deceitfulness of the heart^Warm characters like David and St. 
 Peter specially liable to self-deception, and why — dangerousness of 
 trusting to some fair-spoken but dishonest man in a great mercantile 
 speculation — the trust -which we naturally place in our own hearts 
 —self-love conspires to make dupes of us— Means to be used in coun- 
 teracting the deceitfulness of the heart— As we cannot ourselves give 
 a fair judgment on our own sins, might we not sometimes call in an- 
 other to judge them?— or ask ourselves how such an one would re- 
 gard it, if we communicated it to him ? — the better as well as the 
 worst parts of our conduct need self-examination— suspect your own 
 motives — part of our religion due to custom — part of it a homage to 
 public opinion— part of it due to the love of keeping up appearances 
 — part to natural activity of mind — dift'erence between an innocent, 
 and a gracious motive — secret prayer more or less a test of personal 
 religion— dissatisfaction with ourselves of no avail unless it leads to 
 satisfaction with Christ 83 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 •OF INTEECESSOKT PEATEE. 
 
 " They made the breastplate: .... and they set in it four rows 
 of stones : .... And the stones were according to the names 
 of the children of Israel, twelve, according to their names, 
 like the engravings of a signet, every one with his name 
 according to the twelve tribes. ^^ — Exod. xxxix. 9, 10, 14. 
 
 The symboUsm of the High Priest's breastplate — the Christian 
 as a priest must offer intercession— intercession and self-examination 
 necessary to keep one another in check — instances of intercessory 
 prayer in Scripture — how intercession is woven into the texture of the 
 Lord's Prayer — testimony of the Prayer Book to this duty — grounds 
 of the duty— we are members one of another, and our interests bound 
 up with those of other men — the interest we have in the rulers of our 
 country— systematic neglect of intercession for any but the members 
 of our own family — grounds of the disinclination to it— (1) it appears 
 presumptuous— answer to this— (2) supposed impotency of interces- 
 sory prayer— reflect that in offering it we co-operate with the whole 
 Church— (3) want of interest in others— selfishness hinders the suc- 
 cess of our prayers — the ground of this explained — hints as to the par- 
 ticular blessings which wc may ask for our friends . . . .96 
 
xviii Contents. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 OF DEVOTIONAL EEADINa. 
 
 " And Elisha died, and they buried him. And the hands of the 
 Moabites invaded the land at the coming in of the year. 
 
 ^^And it came to pass, as they were burying a man, that, behold, 
 they spied a band of men ; and they cast the man into the 
 sepulchre of Elisha; and when the man was let down, and 
 touched the bones of Elisha, he revived, and stood up on his 
 feet:'— 2 Kings xiii. 20, 21. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 In what sense Protestants may "believe in relics— advantage of 
 association with the wise and good— in society circumstances may 
 nullify this advantage— the best mind of an author mirrored in his 
 devotional works —bad books a powerful agency for evil — spiritual 
 reading has to a certain extent taken the place of preaching, and 
 therefore ought to be regarded in the light of a Divine ordinance- 
 particular writers serviceable to particular minds— great variety of 
 the inspired literature — corresponding variety in Devotional works — 
 select what suits you — Roman devotional works not to be used by 
 those who have Romish tendencies — read as a devotional exercise — 
 thinking of the author (if deceased) as a Saint in Paradise— avoid 
 dissipation in reading— recourse to the favourite spiritual author will 
 often revive our own hearts in a period of deadness .... 106 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 ON FREQUENTING THE HOLT COMMUNION. 
 
 " Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do 
 all to the glory of God.'''' — 1 Gor. x. 31. 
 
 Modern convictions on the desirableness of frequent Communion 
 -Necessity hence arising for a change in the manuals of preparation 
 -Rare Communion would bo desirable if the Eucharist were merely 
 
Contents. xix 
 
 PAGE 
 
 a commemorative Rite — but it is also the highest means of grace — 
 and seems from the Acts of the Apostles to have been of equally 
 frequent occurrence with other means — difterence between liveliness 
 of feeling, and strengthening of principle— it is the latter, not the 
 former, we should seek in the means of grace — Old-fashioned feeling 
 in favour of rare Communion analysed — its good element — and its 
 bad — to make frequent Communion available our lives must be con- 
 formed to the ordinance — this conformity stands in sanctifying our 
 common and necessary actions, by supernatural motives — how this 
 sanctification of common actions is expressed in the ordinance — objec- 
 tion arising from the desirableness of having stated periods for a sol- 
 emn self-scrutiny— why should not the three great Communions be 
 reserved for this special scrutiny ? — frequent Communion not Fopish 
 — Adolphe Monod's death-bed testimony to the expediency of fre- 
 quent Communion 118 
 
 CHAPTER VIJI. 
 
 OP THE PUBLIC SERVICE OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 ** If two of you shall agree on earth as touching any thing that 
 they shall asic, it shall be done for them of my Father which is 
 in heaveny — Matt, xviii. 19. 
 
 The Charter of Public Worship contained in Matt, xviii. 19— 
 functions of Public "Worship devolved both by Dissenters and Ro- 
 manists on the Clergy — Public Prayer in the Church of Rome re- 
 solves itself into a number of private prayers said in public— Pri- 
 vate prayer and public essentially different — their respective char- 
 ters examined — cordial agreement as to what should be asked an es- 
 sential of public prayer — difficulty of securing this agreement with- 
 out a Liturgy— defective practice of our Church while her theory is 
 perfect— coldness of the service notwithstanding the beauty of the 
 Liturgy — way to remedy this coldness— study the Services with a 
 view of understanding them— specially the Psalms— set yourself 
 against the tendency to think of nothing but your own wants in pub- 
 lic worship— great importance of making the responses audibly and 
 heartily — strive to realize the presence of the incarnate God, which is 
 covenanted in the Charter of Public Worship 128 
 
XX Contents. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ON SELF-EEC0LLECTEDNE8S AND EJACULATOET 
 PEAYEE. 
 
 '■'' Pray loithout ceasing. '''' — 1 Thess. Y. 13. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 How we are to reconcile St. Luke's notice of our Lord's having 
 ceased to pray with St. Paul's precept, Pray without ceasing — Prayer 
 the Christian's breath of life — consists in (1) recollecting the mind, 
 and (2) aspiring towards God— God ever present in the depth of our 
 spirits — the refreshment of drawing ourselves into His presence from 
 outward things— ejaculatory prayer — why called ejaculatory— illus- 
 tration of the subject from the arrow which, fetches down a bird- 
 instance of the success of ejaculatory prayer in the history of Nehe- 
 miah — recognition of ejaculatory prayer in our Liturgy — Materials 
 for ejaculatory prayer on ordinary occasions — our daily portion of 
 Scripture— the Psalms — stated prayers cannot be dispensed with, 
 even where ejaculatory is practised — this shown from the example of 
 our Lord, and from the comparison of prayers to respiration— en- 
 couragement, at the close of the second part, for those who are striv- 
 ing after a life of sanctity and conscious of failure .... 140 
 
Contents. xxi 
 
 PAET III. 
 THE PBAGTIGAL LIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 •WHAT HOLDS US BACK. 
 
 " Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling. For it m 
 God which worTceth in you both to will and to do of his good 
 pleasure.'''' — Phil. ii. 12, 13. 
 
 PAGK 
 
 Practical character of the work— the Reader interrogated as to 
 his progress — ^What holds us back — necessity of recognizing the 
 agency of the human will in the work of salvation — necessity of re- 
 cognizing that sanctification is by grace— illustration from the proba- 
 ble causes of continued illness under a competent physician — two con- 
 ditions which might defeat the progress of a rowing boat— necessity 
 both of self-surrender and of trust in Christ— true faith embraces 
 God's commands with obedience — this shown from the history of 
 Abraham— impossibility of sanctifying ourselves as great as that of 
 justifying ourselves— means of Grace will disappoint us if we regard 
 them as sources of Grace— in what sense the righteousness of sancti- 
 fication is inherent in us, and in what sense not — illustration of the 
 doctrine of this Chapter from the Baptismal Covenant— vow of self- 
 Burrender in Baptism— the free gift in Baptism 153 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 DO ALL FOE GOD. 
 
 •' And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not 
 unto men.''' — Col. iii. 23. 
 
 The Christian's practical life comprises three elements, working, 
 acting, and suffering— how to work devoutly— destiny of man, as an 
 
Contents. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 immortal being, contrasted with the earthliness of his pursuits— ap- 
 parent inconsistency between secular pursuits and a heavenly calling 
 — how monasticisna arose from the feeling of this inconsistency — how 
 the idea of this inconsistency is often insinuated in conversation, and 
 at religious meetings — hj^othesis of its being God's will that all 
 Christians should have a directly spiritual pursuit— absurdity to 
 which the assumption leads— the only other alternative — abide with 
 God in your calling — how this is to be done — intention gives a moral 
 character to actions— various intentions in secular pursuits enumerated 
 — livelihood — distinction — natural distastefulness of a want of occupa- 
 tion— motive of duty— mechanical activity— the supernatural motive, 
 Do it heartily as to the Lord — original reference of this precept to the 
 duties of slaves — wisdom of this particular reference — inference from 
 it — thoughts to be entertained before entering upon our daily work — 
 renewal of our good intention at intervals — our lesser actions to be 
 brought under the control of Christian principle— yet without indulg- 
 ing scruples of conscience — religious considerations which give elas- 
 ticity of mind 165 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 ON MAINTAINING THE CONSCIOUSNESS OF GOD^S PEESENCE 
 IN THE WOEKS OF CUE CALLING. 
 
 " The Lord appeared to Abram, and said unto him, I am the Al- 
 mighty God; walk before Me, and be thou perfect.'''' — Gen. 
 xvii. 1. 
 
 Realization of the Divine Presence, the nucleus round which the 
 spiritual character forms itself— how may God's presence be retained 
 on the mind when our work itself is mental?— undivided attention 
 necessary to do any work well— proof that the consciousness of God's 
 Presence need not interfere with active mental work — the mind ac- 
 tively engaged in an extempore address— yet in such an address the 
 Speaker is never unconscious of the presence of his audience — means 
 of cultivating a consciousness of the Divine Presence— Secret prayer 
 at intervals during the day— three different conceptions under which 
 God's Presence will present itself to different minds— habit of culti- 
 vating this consciousness gradually formed— quotation from St. Fran- 
 fois de Sales— helps to realizing God's presence in a rural walk — why 
 nature impresses us so slightly— how thoughts of God's Presence may 
 be realized in the city— how the Incarnation connects the thoughts of 
 God with human Society— lesson to be learnt from the original pursuit 
 of St. Matthew 17T 
 
Contents, 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 OF INTEEEITPTIONS IN OUE WOEK, AND THE WAY TO DEAL 
 "WITH THEM. 
 
 " We cure created m Christ Jesus unto good works, which God 
 hath before ordained that we should walk in themy — Eph 
 ii. 10. 
 
 PAQIl 
 
 The doing work earnestly for God and in Q-od will make interrup- 
 tions very harassing — subject of the chapter proposed — when troubled 
 by interruptions, we must copy the mind of Christ, as it transpires (1) 
 in His discourses— which are not set and formal, but take their rise 
 from some object of nature or incident which He comes across — the 
 contexture of our Lord's discourses not systematic in the usual senso 
 of the word— the intellectual method and the method of charity— (2) in 
 His life— apparent want of plan in it— this illustrated from Matthew ix. 
 —God has a plan of life for each one of us, and occasions of doing or 
 receiving good mapped out for each in His Eternal Counsels — little 
 incidents, as well as great rises of life, are under the control of God's 
 Providence — Events have a voice for us, if we will listen to it — Let us 
 view our interruptions as part of God's plan for us— We may receive 
 good, oven where we cannot do good — It is self-will which weds us so 
 to our own plans, and makes us resent interference with them — the 
 true notion of God's Providence illustrated— Let us endeavour to sub- 
 eerve His designs for us 188 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 FIGHT WISELY. 
 " 8o fight /, not as one that heateth the air.'''' — 1 Cor. ix. 26. 
 
 Second element in the Christian's practical life, his resistance to 
 temptations— Satan's policy must be opposed by policy— want of defi- 
 nite aim in resisting temptations a cause of failure— the besetting sin 
 and its deceitfulness— Vanity masked by an affected humility— uuder 
 honourable emulation— Indolence masked under some more super- 
 ficial sin— usual sensitiveness of men on tbo weak points of their 
 moral character — in strong characters the ruling passion is more ob- 
 vious—hints for discovering besetting sin— in what direction do the 
 
xxiv Contents. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 results of self-examination point ?— "What occurrences give us pain and 
 pleasure 7 — having found the besetting sin, hend the whole strength of 
 your "vrtll against it— the noiseless current of the bosom sin is always 
 setting on a shoal — A glimpse of God's love and grace necessary to 
 counteract the depression which results from self-knowledge . . 200 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 OF THE NATURE OF TEMPTATION. 
 " Then was Jesus. . . . tempted of the deviV — Matt. iv. 1. 
 
 Brightness and cheerfulness of mind necessary to spiritual con- 
 quests — depression under temptation often arises from misapprehen- 
 sion of its nature — the eagle training her young to fly, an emblem of 
 the way in which God disciplines His children— typical character of 
 Israel's pilgrimage in the wilderness^the beginner in religion baffled 
 by a host of temptations— special temptation which besets prayer— 
 and Holy Communion— our non-abandonment of the struggle an au- 
 gury that God has not forsaken us — discomfort arising from mistakes 
 on the nature of temptation — temptation cannot become sin tUl the 
 will consents to it — nor is it always a sign of a sinful nature— this 
 proved by our Lord's temptation— and by the trial of Abraham's 
 faith — guilt arising from the corruption of our nature removed by 
 Baptism— the doctrine of this chapter applied to temptations in prayer 
 — ^honour put by Christ upon prayer under discouragement — heavi- 
 ness resulting from the consciousness of many sinful inclinations— 
 the blessedness and dignity of manifold temptations— God offers to a 
 Botil beset by them an eminence in the Divine Life . . . .210 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 FIGHT WITH DISTEUST IN SELF AND TKUST IN 
 CHEIST. 
 
 ''And in the fourth watch of the night Jesus went unto them, 
 walking on the sea. And when the disciples saw him, 
 walking on the sea they were troubled, saying, It is a 
 spirit : aiid they cried out for fear. But straightway Jesus 
 spake unto them, saying. Be of good cheer ; it is I: he not 
 afraid. And Peter answered him and said, Lord, if it be 
 
Contents. xxv 
 
 thoUf hid me come unto thee on the water. And he said, 
 Come. And when Feter was come down out of the ship, 
 he walked on the water to go to Jesus. But when he savi 
 the wind boisterous, he was afraid ; and beginning to sink, 
 he cried saying. Lord, save me. And immediately Jesus 
 stretched forth his hand, and caught him, and said unto him, 
 thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt ? " — Matt. 
 xiv. 25—31. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 Harmony of Scripture characters witli themselves, and argument 
 thence arising in favour of their authenticity — Rehearsal before- 
 hand of St. Peter's trial and fall— critical temptations occur hut sel- 
 dom—small ones not to be despised, as being a previous rehearsal of 
 great ones— little temptations an excellent discipline of humility — in- 
 stances in which great Saints have broken down in their characteris- 
 tic grace, and the moral discipline of humility likely to be brought 
 out of such failures— self-trust a certain source of failure — it often 
 lurks under disgust with self— how the abnegation of self-trust is con- 
 nected with elasticity of mind in the spiritual combat — how trust in 
 Christ is taught in the narrative before us — never look temptations 
 full in the face— look away from them to Christ, who is to conquer in 
 you — weaken the aflectionfor sin by filling the mind with the thought, 
 and the heart with the love, of Christ— Satan's strongest assault pos- 
 sibly reserved for the last— terrors of the last conflict parallel with 
 those of the disciples in the boat — let us nerve ourselves by fivithful- 
 ness in lesser trials for this last conflict 221 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 FIGHT WATCHFULLY 
 
 " Keep thy heart with all diligence : for out of it are the issuei 
 of ^^/e."— Prot. iv. 23. 
 
 The great force of the expression, Keep thy heart alove ail keep- 
 ing — necessity for keeping the heart, arising from the fact that it is 
 the key of the spiritual position — the traitors within the fortress — 
 the immense fertility of our thoughts and feelings a reason for watch- 
 fulness—variety of emotions in conversation — solitude ofi'ers as many 
 temptations as company— let us pause at intervals, and make our 
 thoughts give up their passport — what must be done when derange- 
 ments of the heart are discovered — spiritual life carried on by many 
 fresh starts — The necessity of resisting evil when first presented to 
 the Imagination — prayer must be mixed with watchfulness in order 
 to success- prayer the expression of our entire dependence upon 
 
xxvi Contents, 
 
 PAOB 
 
 God— great difficulty of keeping the heart should teach us this de- 
 pendence—the peace which results from Christ's indwelling in the 
 heart— The peace in the stable of the inn of Bethlehem . . .232 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE HIGH PEEEOGATIVE OF SUFFEEING. 
 
 " Verily^ verily^ I say unto thee^ When thou wast young ^ thou 
 girdedst thyself^ and walkedst whither thou wouldest : but when 
 thou shalt be old, thou shalt stretch forth thy hands, and another 
 shall gird thee, and carry thee whither thou wouldest not. This 
 spake he, signifying by what death he should glorify God. And 
 when he had spoken this, he saith unto him, Follow me." — John 
 xxi. 18, 19. 
 
 Oar Lord's prediction of the manner of St. Peter's death— how 
 the words may be applied generally as a parable of human life in 
 youth and old age — suffering the third element in the practical hfe of 
 the Christian— regard suffering as a vocation— even when plans of re- 
 ligious usefulness are disconcerted by it — illustration from a wise gen- 
 eral's conduct of a campaign — what has been said applies to the lit- 
 tle plans of daily life as well as to our prospects on a large scale- 
 trial of interruptions— example of our Lord when interrupted— suf 
 fering the highest of all vocations, as being (usually) the last— St. 
 Peter's death the time when he specially glorified God— death the 
 climax of sufferings— Even in natural character trial brings out un- 
 suspected graces— Suffering conforms us to Christ— His virtues em- 
 phatically the passive ones— death of Christ expresses more of His 
 Divine Character than His life— In what sense He was made perfect 
 through sufferings— Christ's call to us to follow Him— the meaning 
 of the words, " Take up the Cross "—Do not despise little daily 
 crosses 241 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 OF EECEEATION. 
 
 " Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to 
 the glory of God.''— I Cok. x. 31. 
 
 An anecdote of St. John the Evangelist— every true representa- 
 tion of life must embrace its lighter as well as its more sombre pas- 
 
Contents. xxvii 
 
 PAGB 
 
 sages— religion designed to leaven onr whole life— analogy between 
 Recreation and Sleep— we cannot afford to lose a single waking mo- 
 ment of our time— no waking moment morally indifferent— admission 
 that recreation must be an unbending— recreation may be, and must 
 be, directed by our minds to the glory of God — a passage of Scripture 
 which implies this — "What should be our intention in taking recrea- 
 tion, expressed in words — As to their form. Recreations must be inno- 
 cent (not necessarily useful)- and innocent to «s— experimental knowl- 
 edge of our own moral temperament — amusements should be amus- 
 ing — burdensomeness of many (so-called) amusements — ordinary dul- 
 ness of conversation — what remedies can be applied ? — every mind 
 has an interest somewhere — occasional toilsomeness of foreign travel 
 — and its cause — even in variety we should seek a unity of plan — a 
 good education should comprise some lighter subjects of study — re- 
 freshment to the mind of even a slight knowledge of Nature — " Con- 
 elder the lilies of the field" — avoid excess in recreations — long periods 
 of leisure should pay the tax of additional devotion— general impor- 
 tance of the subject of recreation, from its influence on the mind . 254 
 
xxviii Contents. 
 
 PAET lY. 
 S UPPLEMENTAL 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ON THE WISDOM AND COMFOET OF LOOKING NO FUE- 
 THEE THAN THE PEESENT DAT IN OUE SEEVICE OF 
 GOD. 
 
 " He that is faithful in that which is least is faithful also in muchj'^ 
 — Luke xvi. 10. 
 
 PAQB 
 
 "Wisdom of limiting the field of research in the pursuit of knowl- 
 edge — wisdom of beginning from one centre in the practical life of 
 the Christian— the general principle applied to our time— the natural 
 divisions of time — the day the least of them — the day a miniature of 
 the whole life— illustration from a convex mirror— passages of Scrip- 
 ture implying that the day is the rudiment of the life— our provisions 
 meted out by the day — our anxieties to be limited by the day — fore- 
 thought allowed within the horizon of the day — our purposes to be 
 limited by the same horizon — difficulty of so limiting them — the morn- 
 ing a miniature of youth— how much depends upon the way in 'whicli 
 the morning hour is spent — entrance upon the business of the day 
 compared to entrance upon the business of life — little crosses of the 
 day compared to the great trials of life- consolatory prospect of the 
 evening hour of devotion, if we maintain patience and watchfulness 
 —Resemblance of Sleep to Death— and of rising to Resurrection- 
 Look to it that the days be well spent ; for they make up our life — 
 But if we have thrown away (for all spiritual purposes) many days, 
 Btill there is a possibility of redeeming the time — how this may be 
 done— let to-morrow begin a new era with ua 267 
 
Contents. xxix 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 OIT UNITY OF EFFOET IN THE SEEVICE OF GOD. 
 
 *'■ Tliou art careful and troubled aboiit many things; ha one 
 thing is needful." — Luke x. 41, 42. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 Simplicity and depth of the -words of our Lord illustr.-xted by the 
 depth of a pellucid stream— necessity of peace in endeavour, as well 
 as of peace in the consciousness of acceptance — desirableness of hav- 
 ing one single principle at the foundation of our spiritual character 
 — how is this to be reconciled with the obligation of fulfilling all God's 
 commandments? — the way in which Christian virtues hang together 
 — prominence of a particular feature in aU natural characters, 
 and of a particular grace in all spiritual characters — growth in 
 Nature proceeds from one nucleus— application of the principle — 
 bend your eftbrts to the eradication of the bosom sin — other 
 graces will form themselves while this process goes on— Choose one 
 maxim as the foundation of the spiritual character — " Hallowed be 
 thy Name " — what God's Name includes—" Blessed are the poor in 
 spirit" — the principle chosen should not be too narrow, so as to give 
 rare scope for acting upon it— nor too broad, so as to include (vir- 
 tually) many principles— it should lie in a line of thought to which 
 we are naturally drawn — Cultivate quietness of mind as a great se- 
 cret of success in spiritual endeavour — how this quietness may be 
 had even under the consciousness of falls 278 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 OF THE WAT IN WHICH WE SHOULD SEEK TO 
 EDIFY OTHERS. 
 
 " Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your 
 good . works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.''''—* 
 Matt. v. 16. 
 
 A desire to do good to others is the very spot of God's children— 
 this desire oflen directed in wrong channels— the history of schism- 
 misdirected desire to edify— its mischievous results— fundamental 
 passage on which the duty of Edification is built— Sermon on the 
 Mount a perfect code of Christian duty— danger of applying indis- 
 criminately words spoken to the Apostles, or to individuals under pe- 
 culiar circumstances—" Let ycnr light shine before men" explained 
 from the context— do nothing to hide your Christian profession— our 
 
XXX Contents. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 Lord speaks of edification by example— and does not recommend 
 even this for the sake of edification— everj light must shine unless 
 you cover it up— dangers of indiscriminate religious admonition— as 
 an assumption (which may be groundless) of religious superiority— as 
 being most often a failure in point of result— as being a display of 
 spiritual feeling, which may be mischievous to this delicate plant- 
 How we may edify others— Live close to God, and strive to do all ac- 
 tions as unto Him — never lower your principles to the world's stand- 
 ard—aim at appearing just what you are, neither better, nor worse- 
 eschew affectation in every form 28S 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 m WHAT THE SPIEITUAL LIFE CONSISTS. 
 
 ^^ And he opened his mouth, and taught them, saying, Blessed 
 are the poor in spirit : for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 
 Blessed are they that mourn : for they shall he comforted. 
 Blessed are the meek : for they shall inherit the earth. 
 Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness : 
 for they shall he filled. Blessed are the merciful : for they shall 
 obtain mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart : for they shall see 
 God. Blessed are the peacemaker s : for they shall he called the 
 children of God. Blessed are they which are persecuted for right 
 eousness' sake : for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.'''' — Matt. 
 V. 2—10. 
 
 The author's excuse for introducing this subject at so late a pe- 
 riod of the work— In what the Spiritual life does not consist— Not in 
 ordinances— ordinances the means of kindling the flame or of feeding 
 it, but not the flame— the gardener's tools not the life of the tree — 
 our unhappy tendency to confound means with ends— Monasticism 
 assumes that the Spiritual Life consists in ordinances — Scripture, 
 where it touches on the vitals of religion, omits all mention of ordi- 
 nance—the Spiritual life does not consist of actions — the fruit is not 
 the life — View of religion as mere usefulness congenial to the English 
 mind— Spiritual life does not consist in activities — religious activity 
 of the present day — we all catch the spirit of it — our natural zest for 
 work quickened by the disgust of young and earnest minds with the 
 controversial extravagances of the day — the mischievous tendency of 
 this result — Christian practice supposed to be separable from Chris- 
 tian doctrine — in what the Spiritual life does consist ?— answers from 
 Scripture— it is internal — not even private prayer is the spiritual life, 
 
Contents, xxxi 
 
 PAGE 
 
 independently of the mind with which it is offered— it is supernatural 
 — the application of this teiin justified — it is developed amid trial and 
 opposition — this illustrated hy the beatitudes of meekness and mercy 
 — the first beatitude gives the fundamental grace of the Christian 
 character — application of these various criteria in self-examination . 299 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THAT OUE STUDY OF GOD'S TEUTH MUST BE WITH THE 
 HEAET. 
 
 ^^But even unto this day^ when Moses is read, the vail is upon their 
 heart. Nevertheless when it shall turn to the Lord, the vail shall 
 he taken awayy — 2 Cor. iii. 15, 16. 
 
 Jewish blindness resulted from a predisposition not to believe — 
 In what form the truth is recognized that a man's judgment is liable 
 to be prejudiced by his inclinations— non-recognition of this truth in 
 the attempt of heathen philosophers to persuade men to virtue— the 
 method of Socrates — historically Christianity began with an appeal 
 to the affections — the doctrine of the Gospel makes the same appeal 
 — Moral effect which the story of Christ's death is likely to produce 
 —justifying faith shown to be an operation of the heart— every for- 
 ward step in the spiritual life must be made with the heart — the ne- 
 cessity of ^^ unction" to effective preaching — study of Scripture too 
 often drops into a mere intellectual exercise — snare of the interest 
 which attaches to Scripture in a literary point of view— the saving 
 truths are the simplest— study chiefly Christ crucified, who is the 
 centre of God's revelation 310 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 ON LIVING BY EULE. 
 
 " Upon the first day of the week let every one of you lay hy him in 
 store as God hath prospered him, that there he no gatherings when 
 I comey — 1 Cor. xvi. 2. 
 
 Discrepancy between the general tone of New Testament precept, 
 and the passage at the head of the Chapter— wisdom of St, Paul's 
 rule on the subject of almsgiving— impossibility of adapting the rule 
 
xxxii Contents. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 to all circumstances — general dearth of rules in the New Testament 
 pointed out, and accounted for— morning and evening private prayer, 
 and public worship on Sunday regarded as a sort of law of conscience 
 — nature furnishes materials for all the arts of life— as Scripture fur- 
 nishes principles for all rules of holy living— this analogy worked 
 out — each Gliristian to frame rules for himself— grave responsibility 
 of keeping the soul — and the necessity thence arising for a wise rule 
 and method of life — rules must be adapted to our temperament and 
 circumstances — rules urgently required in the matter of almsgiving- 
 specific resolutions recommended, framed on a foresight of the trials 
 of the day— rules should be made a help, not a penance . . . 321 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 OF THE MISCHIEF AND DANGER OF EXAGGERATIONS IN 
 RELIGION. 
 
 " Let us prophesy according to the proportion offaith.''^ 
 
 Rom. xii. 6. 
 
 A comparison from the writings of Lord Bacon— morbid tendency 
 of the human mind to caricature the truths presented to it— all heresy 
 a caricature of truth — this instanced in the erroneous views of the 
 Quaker— and in those of some modern divines, who magnify God's 
 Justice at the expense of His Love— spiritual writers often put a 
 strain upon favourite precepts of the Gospel— an instance in which 
 St. Frangois de Sales caricatured the grace of resignation — natural- 
 ness of character in the scriptural Saints— traces of it in St. Paul— in 
 order to keep the mind free from exaggerations, read Scripture co- 
 piously—candidly—and giving full weight to those parts which do 
 not naturally attract you — imbue the mind with it . , . .335 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 OF THE GREAT VARIETY OF MEN'S CHARACTERS IN THE 
 CHURCH OF CHRIST. 
 
 " As the body is one, and hath many members, and all the members 
 of that one body, being many, are one body ; so also is Christ.''''— 
 1 Cor. xii. 12. 
 
 The various extraordinary gifts of the early Church came from 
 the same author, and work together to the same end— variety in unity 
 
Contents. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 the law of nature — agency of the same laws of nature in distinct 
 spheres — great variety in Holy Scriptures — the unity of Holy Scrip- 
 ture traced from its earlier to its later books — same feature of variety 
 in unity to be expected in the Church of Christ— the supernatural 
 gifts have most of them some natural endowment which corresponds 
 with them — difference of character and endowments in St. Peter, St. 
 Paul, St. John, and other scriptural Saints — religious experience of 
 different Christians widely different— conversions of a wholly differ- 
 ent kind recorded on the same page of Scripture— our method of 
 serving God will differ with our capacities and position — lesson of 
 charity towards those who take a different line of religious thought 
 from ourselves— each Christian designed to be an original specimen of 
 redeeming love and grace . . 343 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 OF THE IDEA OF SACPJFICE, AS PEEYADING THE 
 CHRISTIAN'S LIFE. 
 
 " An holy priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices, acceptable to 
 God by Jesus Christy — 1 Pet. ii. 5. 
 
 All forms of religion have involved the idea of sacrifice — this per- 
 haps traceable to the lingering tradition of Noah's sacrifice after the 
 flood — instinct of the human heart which instigates men to sacrifice 
 analyzed — hold which the idea has of the mind, shown by the system 
 W Romanism— the sacrifice of Christ, which is the central doctrine 
 5Jf our religion, comprehends the sweet-savour offering of His Life, 
 and the sin-offering of His Death— fundamental difference of these 
 two offerings explained — Christ our altar — God still requires from 
 Christians the sweet-savour though not the sin-offering— the offering 
 of the body as a living sacrifice — of praise — of alms — how all these 
 three offerings are recognized in the Communion Service — possibility 
 of offering an acceptable sacrifice an encouraging thought — privilege 
 of being allowed to please God by an acceptable tribute— self-obha- 
 tion should form part of our morning's devotion, and the spirit of it 
 should pervade our common actions— materials of an acceptable offer- 
 ing always at hand — but no offering can be acceptable independently 
 of the mediation and intercession of Christ, "Who is the true altar . 355 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 OF ALLOWING IN OUR MINDS A PREPONDERANCE TO 
 TRIFLES. 
 
 "TFbe unto you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites ! for ye pay tithe 
 of mint and anise and cummin, and have omitted the weight- 
 
xxxiv Contents. 
 
 ier matters of the laio^ judgment, mercy, and faith: these 
 ought ye to have done, and not to leave the other undone.''"' — 
 Matt. xxii. 23. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Attention to little duties continually recommended in this treatise 
 — and why — ordinary life made up of little things — great crises occur 
 comparatively seldom— Even duties not moral but ceremonial (such 
 as reverent postures in prayer) have their importance— making the 
 responses— attention to little things may degenerate into scrupulosity 
 — case of the Pharisees — two opposite habits of mind as regards little 
 things imported by men into their religion — punctiliousness in small 
 matters quite consistent with the neglect of greater— the comparative 
 insignificance of ritual and antiquarian controversies, and of the deco- 
 ration of Churches— formalities often adhered to by those who pro- 
 fess to disregard forms— how the spirit of Rehgion may be allowed to 
 evaporate, v/hile formal regulations are observed — formal restraints 
 as to amusement— formal observance of Sunday— While you use rules 
 as a help, keep your eye fixed on the spirit and principle of them — 
 Love to Q-od and man the fulfilling of the whole Law— view all other 
 things as they stand related to these two great objects • . . . 365 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 OF IMPEOYING OUR TALENTS. 
 
 " For the kingdom of heaven is as a man travelling into a far 
 country, who called his own servants, and delivered unto them hi^ 
 goods. And unto one he gave five talents, to another two, and to 
 another one : to every man according to his several ability : and 
 straightway took his journey. 
 
 " TJien he which had received the one talent came and said, Lord, 1 
 knew thee that thou art an hard man, reaping where thou hast 
 not sown, and gathering where thou heist not strawed : and I was 
 afraid, and went and hid thy talent in the earth : lo, there thou 
 hast thai is thine. His lord answered and said unto him. Thou 
 wicked and slothful servant, thou knewest that I reaped where I 
 sowed not, and gather where I have not strawed: thou oughtest 
 therefore to have put my money to the exchangers, and then at mif 
 coming I should have received mine own with usury. ^^ — Matt, xxv 
 14, 15—24, 25, 26, 27. 
 
 Misapprehensions which might arise from the moral of the Para- 
 ble of the Virgins— how the Parable of the Talents corrects them— 
 
Contents. xxxv 
 
 PAGB 
 
 the character indicated by the slothful servant— shrinking from the 
 pastoral responsibility in those qualified for it— ordination by con- 
 straint ill the early Church— scantiness of endowments a plea for not 
 improving them — the phrase " according to his ability " explained — 
 St. Paul endowed with ten talents — his improvement of tliem — St. 
 Barnabas's one talent — his improvement of it — how St. Barnabas 
 might have acted like the slothful servant— men largely endowed are 
 not generally slothful, and why — the majority mediocre — what mo- 
 tives induce the slenderly endowed to be slothful — What is the one 
 talent entrusted to me ?— conjectures as to what it may be— How may 
 I gain from it the largest interest ?— hard thoughts of God lie at the 
 root of unfruitfulness in religion— He never calls us to a standard of 
 duty for which He is not ready to qualify us— in proportion to the 
 burden laid upon us He gives more grace 875 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 OF THE INTEEIOE LIFE. 
 
 " Then shall the kingdom of heaven he likened unto ten virgins^ 
 which took their lamps, and loent forth to meet the bridegroom. 
 And five of them were wise, and five were foolish. They that 
 were foolish took their lamps, and took no oil with them : hut the 
 wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps. While the hride- 
 groom tarried, they all slumhered and slept. And at midnight 
 there was a cry made. Behold, the bridegroom cometh : go ye out 
 to meet him. Then all those virgins arose, and trimmed their 
 lamps. And the foolish said unto the wise. Give us of your 
 oil : for our lamps are gone out. But the wise answered saying. 
 Not so : lest there he not enough for us and you : but go ye rather 
 to them that sell, and buy for yourselves. And while they went 
 to buy, the bridegroom came : and they that were ready went in 
 with him to the marriage : and the door was shut. Afterwards 
 came also the other virgins, saying. Lord, Lord, open to us. But 
 he answered and said, Verily I say unto you, I know you not. 
 Watch therefore for ye know neither the day nor the hour wherein 
 the Son of man cometh." — Matt. xxv. 1 — 13. 
 
 We recur in this chapter to the fundamental idea of the treatise — 
 the Prophecy on the Mount— solemn period of its delivery- the tetral- 
 ogy of Parables, which closes the Prophecy— the Virgins are thoso 
 
Contents. 
 
 PAOB 
 
 who correspond fervently witli the grace originally bestowed on them 
 — the liame of hope and earnest expectation — what kept it burning in 
 the early Church— delay of the Second Advent, and discrimination 
 of character resulting therefrom— religion passes into a matter of 
 principle— modern Christians often go on upon the stock of their 
 early religions impressions— decay in them of the interior life of 
 faith— how defectivoness in the Sermons of the day may contribute 
 to such decay — conversion (not edification) regarded as the business 
 of the pulpit — the emblems of the light and the oil explained — so 
 much grace expended on the outward life of the Christian, just as so 
 much oil is expended in keeping a light burning— Prayer the means 
 of securing a reserve of oil— Yet not stated prayer, but that which 
 mixes itself up with all our actions — how in the midst of active ser- 
 vice we may secure fresh supplies of grace— necessity of spiritual in- 
 dustry in order to perseverance — our treatise a protest in favour of the 
 interior life 388 
 
PART I. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 ON THE LOW STANDARD OF PERSONAL RELIGION NOW 
 PREVALENT, AND THE CAUSES OF IT, 
 
 •' A certain man drew a bow at a venture^ and smote the king 
 of Israel between the joints of the harness^ — 1 Kiugs 
 xxii. 34, 
 
 No one, however well satisfied he may be with the 
 intellectual and moral progress of the age in which we 
 live, can look abroad upon the state of the Church in 
 this country, without gathering from the survey a 
 painful impression that the standard of Personal Re- 
 ligion among us is miserably low. Doubtless there is 
 a great deal of talk upon the subject of religion. And 
 doubtless, also, as the candid observer will not hesitate 
 to confess, there is something better and deeper than 
 talk, — a certain excitement of the public mind, a 
 general sensation on the subject, which indeed is the 
 reason of its being so much discussed. The interest of 
 all classes is alive about religion ; a delightful contrast 
 indeed with the torpid state of things which Wesley 
 and Whitefield found, when they were first visited with 
 serious convictions, and from which they were God's 
 instruments for recovering both the Church and the 
 sects. But this general interest in the- many is quite 
 consistent with a very low standard of religious attain- 
 
4 On the Loiv Standard of Personal Religion [paet 
 
 ment in individuals, — low, I mean, in comparison of 
 what might be expected from the motive power which 
 the Gospel brings to bear upon the heart. 
 
 Let it be considered that God cannot be guilty of 
 the folly of employing a stupendous machinery to 
 achieve an insignificant result, or a result which might 
 be achieved, and has been achieved in another manner. 
 And then let it be observed how stupendous the 
 machinery is, which Christianity brings to bear upon 
 the human heart ; that the force employed to sanctify 
 that heart is, if I may say so, the whole force of God, — 
 the force of motive derived from the Incarnation and 
 Eesurrection, the force of principle derived from the 
 descent of the Holy Ghost. Let it be remembered 
 that it is the repeatedly declared design of this ex 
 penditure of power to make men meet for the inhe- 
 ritance of the saints in light, — in other words, to 
 sanctify or make saints of them. And then let us 
 turn, and look about us, and ask where are the saints ? 
 Is Christianity producing among us the fruits, which 
 God, when He planted it in the soil of the earth, 
 designed it to produce 1 To many questions respecting 
 our moral condition, we can perhaps give a satisfactory 
 answer. If you ask where is integrity, where is 
 amiability, wdiere is social worth, whe];e is attendance 
 uj)on the ordinances of religion, where are almsdeeds 
 and charitable institutions, we can produce our in- 
 • stances. But be it remembered that many, if not all, 
 of these fruits can be borne by unregenerate human 
 nature. The annals of heathenism record numerous 
 instances of integrity and even ascetic self-denial among 
 the philosophers, and many others of a high moral tone 
 and a brilliant disinterestedness among the people at 
 large. Nay, is it not notorious that there were among 
 
I.] now i^revalent, and the Causes of it. 5 
 
 the heathen, men in whom the religious instinct was 
 strongly awakened, men of earnest minds who looked 
 forward with vague apprehension, not however un- 
 mixed with hopes of release, to that future life, of 
 which they caught a glimpse ever and anon from the 
 flickering and uncertain ray of the light of Nature ? 
 But Christian saintliness must surely go beyond this, 
 as being the product of much higher agencies. And 
 where is Christian saintliness among us 1 Without 
 denying its existence, it may be yet said that none of 
 the instances we can show of it are of a high caste. 
 
 Indeed, is it not the case that there is a singular 
 analogy between the present state of knowledge and 
 of piety, — that in this age literature and religion fare 
 much alike? In what were called the dark ages, 
 literature was the monopoly of the few ; gross igno- 
 rance was the condition of the many. There were some 
 monks and priests who represented all the erudition 
 of their times, and were great luminaries of learning. 
 And much later than the dark ages, while printing was 
 in its childhood, and the helps to knowledge few or 
 none, you meet with men who were great repositories 
 of the literature of the day, giants of intellectual re- 
 source. It is not so any longer. Every one knows 
 a little ; few know much ; and fewer still know pro- 
 foundly ; they have drawn what they know, not from 
 the fountain-head, but from commentaries, and ab- 
 stracts, and summaries, and indices, and other books 
 whose province is to make the attainment of know- 
 ledge, cheap and easy. Is it not the same with piety ? 
 The great saints of primitive (nay of mediasval) times 
 stand out like stars in the firmament of the Church, 
 all the brifjhter for the darkness of heathenism or of 
 superstition which surrounds them. But the tendency 
 
6 On the Low Standard of Pergonal Religion [part 
 
 of modern times has been to diffuse among many the 
 piety which was once concentrated in the few. The 
 public are religious as a public, but in individuals the 
 salt has lost its savour. Every body can speak volubly 
 upon controversial subjects ; but where are the men, 
 upon whose heart the Truth, which is at stake in con- 
 troversies, is making every day, by means of prayer 
 and meditation, a deeper imprint ? 
 
 If any remedy is to be applied to this state of 
 things, it is plain that we must first set ourselves to 
 inquire into its causes. And in conducting this in- 
 quiry, it is natural to turn our eyes in the first place 
 to the Christian ministry, as at present exercised in 
 this country. If the results of the Gospel are not 
 -what they should be, it is probable that there are some 
 defects in the instrumentality which it condescends to 
 employ. If saints be not made by the great system, 
 may it not be that the means of working it are out of 
 order 1 Now we are distinctly told that God's great 
 instrumentality for the sanctification and salvation of 
 souls is the ministry of the Word ; " He gave some. 
 Apostles ; and some, prophets ; and some, evangelists ; 
 and some, pastors and teachers ; " ( for what end 1 ) 
 "/or the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the 
 ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ : till 
 we all come in the unity of the faith, and of the 
 knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man^ unto 
 the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ." 
 Stripping this passage of its beautiful insj^ired phraseo- 
 logy, and dropping its reference to those miraculous 
 gifts which have now passed away, its gist and upshot 
 is this, that the ministry of God's Word is the great 
 appointed means for the perfecting of the saintly or 
 Christ-like character in man. Is there then any flaw 
 
I.] now prevalent^ and the Causes of it. 7 
 
 in our ministry, which may in some measure account 
 for the low standard of Personal Eeligion, on which 
 we have been commenting ? We fear there is. We 
 believe that the Christian Ministry having, by God's 
 design and constitution, two arms wherewith to do its 
 work, one of these arms has become paralysed by in- 
 activity. We believe that its office ( as regards the 
 Word of God ) being twofold, to rouse consciences, and 
 to guide them, we have for a long time past in the 
 Church (and probably it is the same with the sects) 
 contented ourselves with rousing, while we have 
 done scarcely any thing to guide them. The one 
 object of all our teaching, whether in formal sermons or 
 in books, has been to make impressions, not to give 
 them a right direction, when made. The sermon is 
 thrown every Sunday into the midst of the people, 
 very much as the arrow which found out King Ahab 
 was darted into the host of Israel, to take its chance 
 amid the thousand arrows which on that day were 
 winging their flight to and fro. Often, no doubt, the 
 grace and providence of God directs the shaft to the 
 right quarter, causes it to reach some sinner's con- 
 science, throu gh the joints of a harness of insensibility 
 and indiflference, and to rankle there in real and abiding 
 conviction. But the misfortune is, that where such 
 an effect is really produced, both minister and people 
 seem to think, judging from their conduct, that the 
 work in that particular case has gone quite far enough. 
 The impression having been made is thenceforth left to 
 itself; the working power being there, it is assumed 
 that it will work, without any further pains on our 
 part. The minister prepares a similar stirring appeal 
 for other consciences ; and the people acquiesce in a 
 religion of good emotions, as if these emotions were 
 
8 On the Low Standard of Personal Religion [paet 
 
 sanctity itself, and not rather something to begin and go 
 on upon, — the primary impulse in the life-long pursuit 
 of sanctity. And thus the good impressions are allowed 
 te run to waste, and no real ground is gained by them. 
 
 We have said that a low standard and a wide 
 diffusion seem to be the law to which both religion 
 and education are subjected in the present day. And 
 perhaps there may be, when we come to look closely, 
 a similar defect in the instrumentality employed by 
 both. Popular lectures are one of the great agencies 
 employed in the spread of knowledge. It is the 
 object of these lectures to put in a lively and attractive 
 form so much of the subject as is agreeable and 
 entertaining, and to hide away all the abstruse re- 
 search, or the abstruse reasoning, by which the results 
 are arrived at. The lecturer is considered to have 
 gained his point if he has skilfully dressed a rather 
 spare dish of knowledge with the garniture of amuse- 
 ment, and sent away his audience pleased and tickled 
 with the conceit of having caught a cursory insight 
 into the bearings of his subject. But as they have 
 never grappled with the elements of the study, the 
 new facts or ideas conveyed to them are forgotten 
 almost as soon as acquired. Whatever advantages 
 such a system may have, it is certain that no scholar 
 was ever made by it. For even now (notwithstanding 
 our intellectual advance) there is no royal road to 
 knowledge ; and those who would really and truly 
 know must still submit to the condition of laborious 
 and gradual discipline ; " line upon line, precept upon 
 precept, here a little, and there a little." 
 
 But do not the great majority even of good and 
 useful sermons resemble in their principles and objects 
 these popular lectures? Do not those sermons 
 
I.] now prevalent, and the Causes of it. 9 
 
 especially resemble them, which it is now the fashion 
 to preach to the masses, and from which we expect 
 some great results, as if they were the one religious 
 agency of the clay ? If we were to define modern 
 sermons as "popular expositions of Holy Scripture, 
 with a warm and stirring application to men's con- 
 sciences," should we go far wrong ? They are de- 
 signed to make, and often (under Grace) they dc 
 make, wholesome impressions of a spiritual character, 
 and the people who are touched by them go away 
 pleased, thinking "they have got good." And good 
 they have got, no doubt ; but then it is good which is 
 not followed up. If the good should go in some cases 
 as far as real conversion, or change of will, there seems 
 to be no provision for edification, that is, for building 
 on the foundation thus laid. They have been exhorted 
 to religion ; but they have not been instructed in it. 
 There is in our exercise of the ministry no systematic 
 plan on which people are taught, and brought on 
 gradually towards " the measure of the stature of the 
 fulness of Christ." And the results are most mis- 
 chievous. Piety degenerates into a series of shallow 
 emotions, which evaporate in the absence of stirring 
 appeals to the conscience. The souls of our people 
 become like Bethesda's pool. Periodically they are 
 impregnated with an healing influence ; " an angel 
 goeth down into the pool, and troubleth the water." 
 But, alas ! the virtue of the stirring is but momen- 
 tary ; the dregs quickly fall again to the bottom, and 
 the water becomes dead, stagnant, and un2:)rofitable as 
 before. 
 
 Thus we seem to have found that one of the causes 
 of the low standard of Personal Religion among us, is 
 probably the want of any definite direction of con- 
 1* 
 
10 0)1 the Low Standard of Personal Iieligio7i [pakt 
 
 science, after it has been once awakened. If we carry 
 our inquiry still farther back, and ask the reasons why 
 this part of the ministerial work has been neglected, 
 we shall probably find that it is owing to reactions 
 from a state of things wrong in itself. Before the 
 Reformation, the confessional existed as a living power 
 in the church ; it exists still in the communion of the 
 Church of Rome. Frightful as ^re the evils and 
 abuses inseparably connected with the system of 
 regular compulsory confession, there was at least this 
 advantage connected with it, that under such a system 
 the minister could not forget the duty imposed upon 
 him of directing the awakened conscience. Counsel he 
 must perforce give, counsel practical and definite for 
 the eradication of those sins, the avowal of which was 
 poured weekly into his ear. The Protestant clergy- 
 man on the other hand, confined to the pulpit, is 
 thereby, of course, thrown back to a much greater 
 distance from the minds of his flock. He does not 
 know, and cannot know, except in those very rare 
 cases, where a revelation of such things is voluntarily 
 tendered to him, what is the nature of their difficulties, 
 or the quarter in which their trials lie. Hence arises 
 a temptation (though surely not a necessity) to do as 
 the certain man in the passage above referred to did, 
 to let fly his word of counsel without any definite aim, 
 to be general and vague both in doctrine and exhorta- 
 tion. And it is well if the generality and vagueness 
 do not go so far as to become unreality, if the por- 
 traitures of the believer and unbeliever are not so 
 overcharged as that no man really resembles either of 
 them, and if consequently the discourse, being meant 
 for nobody in particular, does not fare worse than the 
 death-shaft of Ahab, and hit nobody in particular. 
 
I.] noio prevalent^ and the Causes of it, 11 
 
 But why, because we rightly reject the odious system 
 of the confessional, are we to abandon the attempt to 
 direct the human conscience from the pulpit, or from 
 the press "? The Apostles had no confessionals. And 
 yet were not the Apostles ever making such attempts 
 as we speak of? What is the nature of the Apostolic 
 Epistles ? Are they not all addresses to believers in 
 Christ, whose consciences had already received the 
 primary impulse of true religion, with the view of 
 guiding them in their perplexities, confirming them in 
 their convictions, forewarning them against their tempt- 
 ations, encouraging them in their troubles, explaining 
 to them their difficulties, and generally building them 
 up in their most holy faith ? And are not the 
 Apostolic Epistles the great model of what stated 
 Christian teaching in a Christian country should be ? — 
 a process, be it observed, widely different from the 
 evangelizing of the heathen, and recognized as different 
 in the great baptismal commission given by our Lord 
 in the last verses of St. Matthew's Gospel, where He 
 bids His Apostles first " teach " as a preliminary to 
 baptism, — teach with the view of making disciples, — 
 and subsequently to bapiisni ^Heach^^ the converts so 
 made " to observe all things, whatsoever He had 
 commanded." Those two teachings are quite distinct. 
 The object of the one was to arouse the conscience of 
 the heathen ; the object of the other was to direct the 
 conscience of the Christian. 
 
 The state of things on which we have been animad- 
 verting is also probably due in part to a reaction from 
 the hard and dry style of preaching, which was in 
 fashion some half century ago. Some of us can 
 remember the time when sermons were nothing more 
 than moral essays, setting forth some duty, or some 
 
12 On the Low Standard of Personal Religion [pakt 
 
 grace of the Christian character, with little or no 
 reference to those evangelical motives from which alone 
 an acceptable obedience can spring, and no suggestions 
 of any value as to the method in which the particular 
 grace recommended might be obtained. You were 
 told that humility, and self denial, and contentment 
 were excellent things, and worthy of being pursued by 
 all men ; but as to the considerations which alone can 
 move to the pursuit, and as to any practical method of 
 maintaining them under difficulties, you were left in 
 ignorance. But when it pleased God to quicken the 
 dry bones of the Church with new life, men began to 
 see that to divorce the moral code of Christ from His 
 constraining love, which alone can enable us to keep it, 
 was an unhallowed act, upon which God's blessing can 
 never rest, and that the exhortations of the Christian 
 preacher should be something warmer, and more genial, 
 and more persuasive than the moralizings of Seneca. 
 Since that time, with the usual precipitancy of men to 
 extremes, our divines have chiefly busied themselves 
 with doctrine, and relinquished (or but feebly occupied) 
 the ground of precept. The impression has been that 
 people know every thing about Christian duty, and 
 have no need to be enlightened on that head. And if 
 by Christian duty be meant simply the moral law of 
 God, in its outward, literal aspect, perhaps the impres- 
 sion is more or less correct, at least as regards the 
 educated classes. But if by Christian duty be meant 
 sanctity of life and character, and a growing conformity 
 to the image of the Lord Jesus, we must be pardoned 
 for expressing our conviction that our best and most 
 respectable congregations have very little insight into 
 the thing itself, and still less into the method of its 
 attainment. 
 
I.] now prevalent, and the Causes of it. 13 
 
 We devote these pages, then, to giving some sug- 
 gestions on the nature of Personal Religion, and the 
 method of cultivating it, — a subject for the treatment 
 of which by the ministers of Christ it appears to us 
 that the circumstances of the time urgently call. We 
 address our remarks more especially to those who per- 
 ceive the hollowness of a religion of merely good 
 impressions, and who feel that, if there be vitality in 
 the Christian principle within them, they ought, as 
 years roll on, to be making progress. The mere earnest 
 desire for a holier life, which is often found in such 
 souls, is something, — nay, it is much, — it is the fruit of 
 grace, it is the workmg in the inner man of the instinct 
 which Baptism implanted. Take courage, brother ! 
 Earnest desire of holiness is holiness in the germ thereof. 
 Soon shalt thou know, if only thou wilt folloiu on to 
 know, the Lord. But take one short and plain caution 
 before we start. Sanctity is not the work of a day, but 
 of a life. Growth in grace is subject to the same law of 
 gradual and imperceptible advance as growth in nature. 
 God's natural creation, Moses tells us, was built up step 
 by step, out of its first rudiments. Who could have 
 believed that the germs of all the fair objects which we 
 behold in nature were in that void, and darlv, and 
 formless earth, over whose waters the Spirit of God 
 spread His fostering wing ? And who could have be- 
 lieved that in this heart of ours, — such a medley of 
 passions, vanities, pettiness, ignorance, as now it is, — . 
 there should be the germs of every grace which can 
 bloom in the garden of God — of child-like humility, 
 yea, and of heroic self-sacrifice 1 Yet so it is. Be but 
 true to your convictions. Do but follow the instigations 
 of that Spirit who hovered over the waters of your 
 Baptism. Follow Him in darkness and light, through 
 
14 On the Chief Characteristic [part 
 
 honor and' dishonor, through evil report and good 
 report, and in due time the new creation shall dawn 
 within thee, and the fair fabric of God's spiritual king- 
 dom shall be built up step by step, — " righteousness, 
 and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost." 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 ON THE CHIEF CHAEACTERISTIC OF PERSONAL 
 RELIGION. 
 
 " Grow in ffracey~2 Pet, iii. 18. 
 
 In our first Chapter we spoke of the low standard 
 of Personal Religion now prevalent, and of the causes 
 of it. We assumed that every one of our hearers 
 would form a more or less correct idea of what was 
 meant by Personal Religion, and thus that there was 
 no need, — at all events at that early stage of the 
 argument, — of any formal definition. The words spoke 
 for themselves sufficiently to enable us to follow the 
 line of thought, along which our minds were then 
 travelling. We shall gain, as we proceed, a more 
 distinct and more highly chiselled notion in connexion 
 with them ; and such a notion, we trust, the present 
 Chapter will convey. 
 
 What is Personal Religion? What has been said 
 already will have taught us that it is something more 
 than a mere partaking in those sensations and in that 
 general interest about religion, which are now so widely 
 diffused among the public. We have also seen that it 
 is something distinct from good impressions on the 
 mind of the individual, which too often terminate upon 
 
I.] of Personal Religion. 15 
 
 themselves. These, however, are rather negative than 
 positive features of it ; and, having intimated what it 
 is not, we are now inquiring what it is. One positive 
 characteristic, then, of Personal Eeligion — perhaps its 
 chief positive characteristic — is, spiritual growth — the 
 growth of the individual soul "unto a perfect man, 
 unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of 
 Christ." Personal Religion involves growth in grace ; 
 so that where there is growth, there is Personal Reli- 
 gion ; and where there is no growth, although there 
 may be interest in religious subjects, and keenness 
 about controversies, and a perception of the importance 
 of Divine truth, and a warm defence of orthodoxy, 
 there Personal Religion is unknown. 
 
 Now to say that Personal Religion is characterized 
 by growth, is only another form of saying that the 
 man who has it is spiritually alive. Growth in the 
 animal and vegetable worlds is the sure sign, and the 
 only sure sign of life. If a branch does not sprout, 
 and put forth leaf and blossom in the spring, we know 
 that it is a dead branch, — the sap which is the life of 
 the tree does not reach it, is not circulating through it. 
 If an infont lives, it grows, — increases in stature daily, 
 while its features fill out gradually into that definite 
 shape which they are to wear through life. But we 
 need not restrict the remark to infiints. The bodies 
 of adults grow as really, though not as sensibly, as 
 those of children. Particles of matter are continually 
 flying off from our bodies, and being replaced by 
 others ; so that, according to a very old and often- 
 quoted computation, the whole mass of the human 
 body undergoes an entire ehange, — becomes, in fact, a 
 new body, — once in every seven years. This constant 
 discharge of old particles, and accretion of new ones, 
 
16 On the Chief Characteristic [pakt 
 
 though accompanied with no change of feature or 
 stature, is growth ; and it is a sign of the vitality of 
 the body. A dead body lacks the principle of life, by 
 which alone nourishment can be taken in from air and 
 food, and transmuted into the substance of the human 
 frame. 
 
 Now we know that nature is every where a parable 
 of grace. Its being so is the basis of all those beau- 
 tiful illustrations which are called the parables of our 
 Lord. And in the case before us, nature furnishes a 
 most important parable of religious truth. There is no 
 organic life without growth in nature ; and there is no 
 spiritual life without growth in grace. I say, no spiritual 
 life, — no continuous state of life. Spiritual impulses 
 there may be many. Impulsies, however, are not life, 
 though they may originate or restore life. Here again 
 we resort to nature for an illustration. There is an 
 agency connected with life called galvanism. You may 
 galvanize a paralysed limb, and by galvanism may 
 restore the circulation, and so restore life, to it. But 
 the galvanism is not the life; it only rouses the 
 dormant powers of life. Galvanism is a certain develop- 
 ment of electricity, the same mysterious agent which 
 in another form, darts to and fro among the clouds of 
 heaven. The life of the limb, on the other hand, con- 
 sists in its answering the purposes for which it was 
 made, in its habitual subservience to the will, in the 
 power of contracting and relaxing its muscles, when 
 the will gives it notice to do so. Now the professing 
 Christian, wdio is not spiritually alive, is a paralysed 
 member of the Body of Christ. Impulses from a 
 heavenly agent, the Holy Gthost, are ever and anon sent 
 through the medium of God's ordinances into the 
 Body of Christ, and impart a convulsive, fitful motion 
 
I.] of Personal Religion. 17 
 
 even to those limbs which are paralysed. It does not, 
 however, follow that the paralysed limbs are restored. 
 In some cases they may be ; in some they may not. 
 At all events, the fitful movement of the limb is one 
 thing, its permanent vitality another. That glowing 
 impression which you carried away from such a sermon, 
 that seriousness which such a warning or such a bereave- 
 ment left on your mind, may, after a convulsive move- 
 ment of the soul — after saddening you for a week, or 
 wringing a few tears from you — pass away for ever, 
 and leave you still in a state of spiritual paralysis. 
 Or it may really rouse the powers of life in your soul, 
 may succeed in enlisting the whole machinery of the 
 inner man, — understanding, affections, will, in Christ's 
 service, — ^may act as the first impulse in a career of 
 holiness. Do not confound God's grace, its motions, in- 
 fluences, instigations, inspirations, with spiritual life. 
 It is on account of this confusion of thought that well- 
 meaning persons often suppose all to be right with them 
 because they are the subjects of so many good impres- 
 sions. God's grace comes to us from without, in order 
 to quicken spiritual life in us ; but the life itself is some- 
 thing internal. The grace resembles the angel who 
 troubled Bethesda's pool, and for a moment conveyed 
 to it a healing virtue. The life of the water would have 
 consisted in its being changed permanently from a 
 stagnant pool into a living spring, which as a fact was 
 never done. 
 
 To resume, then, our argument at the point from 
 which we have slightly digressed. The question whether 
 any of us has Personal Religion, resolves itself into a 
 question whether he has in him a principle of spiritual 
 growth ; and spiritual growth implies spiritual life. Per- 
 sonal Religion therefore is, in fact, one and the samo 
 
18 On the Chief Characteristic [paet 
 
 thing with the spiritual life of the individual soul. — And 
 now let us turn, at this early period of the discussion, 
 to examine our own consciences upon the truth which we 
 have already gained. It must, I suppose, stand to 
 reason that nothing but a Personal Religion will stand 
 us in stead at the last day. The individual will then Le 
 the object of the Divine scrutiny ; not the society in 
 which he has moved, and whose sentiments, habits, and 
 circumstances have perhaps reflected upon him a super- 
 ficial tinge of piety. Society is made up of individuals ; 
 and the sentiments of society are ultimately formed and 
 determined by the sentiments of individuals ; and there- 
 fore God, who searches all deep things, will examine at 
 that day microscopically the little world of the in- 
 dividual's mind. " And when the king came in to see the 
 guests," says our Saviour, " he saw there a man which 
 had not on a wedding garment." He saw there a man ; 
 one man, — singular ; — not that there will not be found 
 at the last day hundreds of thousands of souls in the same 
 sad plight as this poor man ; but to teach us forcibly, by 
 the selection of a single specimen, that no one shall pass 
 muster in the crowd, that not only all, but each must be 
 judged, — that upon each soul in that awful crisis the full 
 glare of Divine Omniscience must be turned in — that the 
 religion which alone will then abide must be personal, 
 deep, individual. Is ours then at present a Personal 
 Religion % Is it a growing one ? Is there a principle 
 of growth in it ? Does it wax stronger against tempt- 
 ations, more stedfast in faith, more constant and more 
 fervent in prayer, as years roll on ? Are our views of 
 God and of Christ gradually enlarging and clearing, and 
 becoming more adequate % Are they more humbling to 
 ourselves, but at the same time more inwardly satis* 
 factory and consolatory than they used to be ? Are be* 
 
1.] of Personal Religion. 19. 
 
 setting sins more resolutely and successfully mortified 
 than they used to be ? Are our souls, though sometimes 
 stirred by spiritual emotions, like Bethesda's pool? or 
 is the Spirit's agency in them deep, profound, eternal — 
 " a well of water springing up into everlasting life ?" 
 
 Reader, seeing that on the answer to these questions 
 our all is suspended, it behoves us to be very careful in 
 answering them. Is my religion a growing one 1 In 
 that word "growing" the decision of the whole ques- 
 tion is wrapped up. Mark the point, I pray you, and 
 keep to it. The point is not whether I have very 
 lively feelings, very warm emotions in connexion with 
 religion (those are often constitutional and dependent 
 on physical temperament), but whether I am growing 1 
 The point is not, whether I fulfil certain duties, social 
 and religious, with commendable regularity (a reflec- 
 tion satisfactory enough as far as it goes, but not 
 bearing on the present question), but, whether I am 
 growing ? And again the point is not (God forbid 
 that it should be ! ) whether I am coming up to the 
 standard of character and conduct, which I have set 
 before myself? whether 1 am satisfied with my own 
 lifel whether I am as yet near to the mind and 
 image of Christ 1 whether I am in sight of the goal 
 of perfection 1 — not this, but simply, " Am I grow- 
 ing 1" This one little word is the test, which, faith- 
 fully applied, shall reveal to' us our state. But how to 
 apply if? how to be sure that we are applying it 
 right % Methinks I hear some reader ask whether this 
 growth is consistent with frequent relapses, with the 
 backslidings (some of them very serious) of which he is 
 only too conscious % To which we answer, with some 
 assurance, " Yes, if the fall have been one of infirmity ; 
 if the will has (so to say) picked itself up afterwards, 
 
20 On the Chief Characteristic [part 
 
 and, though bruised and bleeding, gone manfully 
 forward, giving its hand once again to the Lord Jesus, 
 and consenting heartily (as before) to His guidance.'* 
 There may be health and vitality in a constitution 
 plagued with sickness ; and if there be such a vitality, 
 it will enable the constitution to throw the sickness ofF._ 
 We do not for a moment desire to excuse sin ; but at 
 the same time God's people should be instructed, for 
 their comfort, that there is a wonderful economy in His 
 Kingdom of Grace, by which He sometimes brings 
 even out of relapses (as in the case of the fall of St. 
 Peter) a burst of penitent love and zeal, Avhich gives 
 the soul a most powerful forward impulse. The 
 Apostle had denied Christ in a moment of weakness ; 
 but he rises from the denial at once, when his Master's 
 look recalled him to himself, and goes out and weeps 
 bitterly. Soon afterwards we discover that he has 
 grown in grace. We see him throwing himself into 
 the water, and wading ashore to meet the L-ord, — a 
 mute but very touching way of saying that his affection 
 is now more zealous than ever. As an illustration of 
 this law in the Kingdom of Grace, consider the move- 
 ment of the tide when it is coming in. It is movement 
 upon the whole. The water is sure to cover that dry 
 beach in two or three hours' time, and to float that 
 stranded sea-weed ; hut it is not a movement without 
 rehjjses. Each wave, I suppose, gains a little ground, 
 but each wave falls back as soon as it has plashed upon 
 the shore. Even so in the Christian life, there may be 
 a forward movement on the whole, consistently with 
 many relapses, though this assertion requires to be 
 guarded by the observation that the relapses must be 
 such as proceed from infirmity, and not from malice 
 prepense. Deliberate, habitual sin, cannot possibly 
 
I."] of Personal Religion, 21 
 
 consist with spiritual growth ; but the shaking of a 
 man's stedfastness by a sudden tornado of temptation 
 (which was 'St. Peter's case) may do so. The great 
 question is whether, after every such fall, the will 
 recovers its spring and elasticity, and makes a fresh 
 start with new and more fervent prayer and resolve 
 Indeed, the making many fresh starts after relapses of 
 infirmity is a hopeful sign of growth. In order to any 
 great attainment in spiritual life, there must be an 
 indomitable resolve -to try and try again, and still- to 
 begin anew amidst much failure and discouragement. 
 On warm dewy mornings in the spring vegetation 
 makes a shoot ; and when we rise, and throw open the 
 window, we mark that the May is blossoming in the 
 hedgerows. And those periods when a man can say, 
 " I lost myself sadly yesterday in temper or in talk ; 
 but I know that my crucified Lord took upon Him 
 those sins and answered for them, and to-day I will 
 earnestly strive against them in the strength of His 
 Spirit, invoked into my soul by earnest prayer :" these 
 are the warm dewy mornings of the soul, when the 
 spiritual life within us sprouts and blossoms apace. 
 
 Again, it should be remembered, lest any whom the 
 Lord hath not made sad should be put out of heart by 
 the application of the test, that all real growth is very 
 slow, and its actual progress imperceptible. The seed 
 sown on stony ground, which forthwith sprang up, 
 because it had no dee^Dness of earth, proved a failure. 
 Jonah's gourd, which came up in a night, perished also 
 in a night. We never see plants actually growing; 
 we only take notice that they have grown. He who 
 would form a sound judgment of his spiritual progress 
 must throw his eye over long, not short, intervals of 
 time. He must compare the self of this year with the 
 
22 On t\e Chief Characteristic [part 
 
 self of last ; not the self of to-day with the self of 
 yesterday. Enough if amid the divers and shifting 
 experiences of the world, and the manifold internal 
 self-communings arising thereupon, that delicate plant, 
 spiritual life, has grappled its fibre a little deeper into 
 the soil than it seemed to have done in an earlier stage 
 of our pilgrimage, now fairly past. 
 
 Let those characters, for whom they are designed, 
 take to themselves the comfort of these considerations. 
 But let not the indolent and formal derive from them 
 the slightest encouragement. Again we say, that the 
 one sign of vital Personal Religion is growth. There 
 is no growth in a life of spiritual routine, in a 
 mechanical performance of duties, however important, 
 or a mechanical attendance upon ordinances, however 
 sacred. There is no growth without zeal and fervor, 
 and that sort of enthusiastic interest in religion, with 
 which a man must take up any thing if he wishes to 
 succeed in it. There is no growth in the deliberate 
 adoption of a low standard, in the attempt to keep 
 back a moiety of the heart from Christ, in consenting 
 to go with God thus far only, and no further. There 
 is no growth in contenting ourselves with respectability, 
 and declining the pursuit of holiness. There is no 
 growth without fervent prayer, "in spirit and in 
 truth." And, finally, there is no growth (whatever be 
 the hopes with which we may be flattering ourselves) 
 without continual and sincere effort. 
 
 But it is now time to conclude this chapter. And 
 we will do so by remarking that if an examination of 
 conscience should show that we are not growing in 
 grace, there is but one alternative, which is that we are 
 falling back. An awful truth ; but one as infallibly 
 certain as any other phenomenon of our moral state. 
 
i.l of Personal .Religion, 23 
 
 Neither in mind nor body does man ever " continue in 
 one stay." . His body, as we have seen, is constantly 
 throwing off old particles of matter, and appropriating 
 new ones. Every breath he breathes, every exertion of 
 his muscles and limbs, every particle of food he 
 swallows, makes some minute change in the bodily 
 framework, so that it is never entirely the same. Of 
 each individual among us it may be said with truth at 
 any given moment, that he is either rising to, or de- 
 clining from, the prime of life and the maturity of his 
 physical powers. And the mind no less than the body 
 is in a continual flux. It too has its moral element, 
 the society in which it lives, — it too has its nourish- 
 ment, which it is constantly imbibing, — the influences 
 of the world and the lower nature, or those of the 
 Spirit of God. One or other of these influences is 
 always imperceptibly passing into the mind and 
 effecting a gradual change. And the awful thought is, 
 that if the change is not for the better, it must be for 
 the worse ; if the mind is not appropriating the higher, 
 it must be appropriating the lower influences ; if there 
 is no growth in grace, there must be a growth in 
 worldliness and sin. Strictly speaking, nothing is 
 morally indifferent ; every moral action leaves its 
 impress upon moral character. Our fireside conver- 
 sations, our thoughts as we pass along the streets 
 to our daily work, our spirit in the transaction of 
 business, all have some amount, small though it be, of 
 moral value ; all are tending more or less remotely to 
 form the character ; amid all, and through all, we are 
 cither making spiritual progress or falling back from 
 the mark. With what solemnity do these thoughts 
 invest even the most trifling incidents of life ! It is 
 impossible to pass through them and come out the 
 
S4 Of the entire dependence [pakt 
 
 same ; — we are changed either for the better or for the 
 worse. We will look to it, then, that in future at 
 ^east it shall be for the better. If it have been hithertc 
 ibr the worse, we will this very hour embrace thf.t 
 already purchased pardon, which obliterates in an 
 instant the guilt of a whole past career of sin, and 
 that grace, proffered by Christ no less gratuitously, 
 which renews the will unto newness of life. And to- 
 morrow we will, m the strength of that grace, make a 
 new beginning, taking up this anthem into our mouths : 
 " All my fresh springs shall be in Thee." 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 OF THE ENTIEE DEPENDENCE OF SANCTITY ON CHRIST, 
 AND OF THE EELATION WHICH THE MEANS OF 
 GEACE HOLD TO HIM. 
 
 ^^ Abide in 3fe, and lin you. As the branch cannot bear fruit 
 of itself except it abide in the vine ; no more can ye, except 
 ye abide in Me. 
 
 " / am the vine, ye are the brancyes : he that abideth in Me^ 
 and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit : for with- 
 out Me ye can do nothing,'''* — St. John xv. 4, 5. 
 
 The subject of this treatise is Personal Eeligion, or in 
 other words, that " holiness, without which no man 
 shall see the Lord." It is evident that we shall be 
 liable to misapprehend the subject fundamentally, unless 
 we have at the outset a clear notion of the nature of 
 Christian holiness. It is to give the reader this clear 
 notion that the present chapter will be devoted. 
 
 In the passage which f tands at the head of it, there 
 
I.] of Sanctity on Christ. 25 
 
 is a slight inaccuracy of translation, which requires to 
 be set right before the force of Our Lord's words can be 
 thoroughly appreciated. "- Without Me ye can do no- 
 thing," should rather be rendered, ^^ Apart from Me,'' 
 " separate from Me," " in a state of independence on 
 Me, ye can do nothing." " Apart from Me," by no 
 means conveys the same idea as " Without Me." The 
 latter would imply merely that unless Christ concurred 
 with His people in their efforts, they could do nothing. 
 " Apart from Me," goes beyond this. It implies that 
 He is the alone originating source of all sanctity in 
 them. " Without " the concurrence and assistance of a 
 strong person, a weak one cannot lift a heavy weight ; 
 but the dependence of the weak person on the strong 
 in order to lift the weight, is not the dependence which 
 the word here employed indicates. " Apart from " the 
 soul (or principle of life) the body is motionless, and 
 cannot stir a finger. This is the sort of dependence 
 indicated in the passage before us. Christ is to the 
 Christian the alone source of sanctification or spiritual 
 life, just as the soul is to the body the alone source of 
 natural life. 
 
 I do not know that any other prefiitory observation 
 is needecl, except that " the fruit " mentioned in this 
 ^passage generically is specifically, and in detail, those 
 fruits of the Spirit which are enumerated by St. Paul 
 in Gal. v., " Love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, 
 goodness, faith, meekness, temperance." The fruit 
 consists in certain holy tempers and affections of 
 heart, the possession of which will uniformly ensure 
 right conduct, but which are much more easily seen to 
 be absolutely dependent upon Christ's working than 
 right conduct itself is. If a man be commanded by 
 God to do any action whatsoever, he can string up his 
 2 
 
26 Of the entire dependence [part 
 
 will to do it. But when certain sentiments and dispo- 
 sitions are required of him, which involve a thorough 
 change of the heart's "natural propensities, that is 
 another matter. The affections are far less under the 
 will's control than the actions are. — That these gracious 
 sentiments and dispositions are called by the Apostle, 
 fruits of the Spirit, and by His Divine Master, fruit 
 proceeding from himself, the true Vine, need not cause 
 any difficulty. In Christ dwelleth all the fulness of the 
 Godhead bodily. He is the smitten Rock of the 
 wilderness, through whom alone the living waters force 
 their passage to polluted man. His glorified humanity 
 is the appointed receptacle of Grace, from which Gracf 
 emanates into all the moral universe. Hence the Spirit 
 is called the Spirit of God's Son. 
 
 The great subject brought before us by the passage 
 
 is, that THE SANCTIFICATION OF THE CHRISTIAN, LIKE 
 
 his justification, is entirely dependent upon our 
 Lord. 
 
 As regards our Justification, this is clearly seen (at 
 least in the Reformed Churches) and generally admitted. 
 That Christ alone can atone for sin; that His Blood 
 and nothing else can procure the pardon of it ; that on 
 the ground of His merit exclusively we can find accept- 
 ance with God, reinstatement in his favour, and admis- 
 sion to His Presence ; that " all our righteousnesses are 
 as filthy rags," and that therefore we must look out of 
 ourselves for a righteousness which can stand the 
 scrutiny of God's judgment, and that such a righteous 
 ness, white as the driven snow, is to be found in Christ 
 only, — all this, whatever reception such a doctrine 
 might have met with half a century ago, is now so 
 thoroughly established, and has gained such a footing m 
 
I.] of Sanctity on Christ, 27 
 
 the minds of religious people, that to prove it from 
 Holy Scriptm-e to persons of ordinary religious ac- 
 quirements would be altogether superfluous. 
 
 But it is thought that, unlike Justification, (which is 
 something that passes on the sinner externally to him, 
 a sentence of acquittal pronounced on him by God, in 
 consideration of Our Lord's merits,) Sanctification is a 
 process within us (which no doubt is true); and hence 
 it is erroneously inferred that it is carried on much 
 more independently of Christ than Justification is; 
 that human will, effort, and exertion contribute very 
 mainly to it, and that Christ is not the all in all of it, 
 not " our strength " in the same way and to the same 
 extent as He is '' our righteousness." And hence a 
 false notion of holiness springs up in many minds, and 
 finds such a lodgment that it is very difficult to dis- 
 possess it. Holiness is supposed to be an achievement 
 mastered at length — much as a lesson is mastered — by 
 a variety of exercises, prayers, fastings, meditations, 
 almsdeeds, self-discipline, Sacraments ; and when mas- 
 tered, a sort of permanent acquisition, which goes on 
 increasing as the stock of these spiritual exercises ac- 
 cumulates. It is not regarded in its true light as a 
 momentary receiving out of Christ's fulness grace for 
 grace, as the result of His inworking in a hea/t, which 
 finds the task of self-renewal hopeless, and makes itself 
 over to Him, to be moulded by His plastic hands, re- 
 signing, of course, its will to Him in all things, without 
 which resignation such a surrender would be a horrible 
 hypocrisy. 
 
 Now let us take up the illustrations of this truth; 
 and first His own illustration, the wisest, profoundest, 
 and most beautiful of all. "As the branch cannot 
 bear fruit of itself, exceptfit abide in the vine ; no more 
 
28 Of the entire dependence [part 
 
 can ye, except ye abide in Me ;" " Apart from Me ye 
 can do nothing." The circulating sap, which is the life 
 of the tree, is indeed in the vine-branch, so long as it holds 
 on the stem ; but in no sense whatever is it from the 
 vine-branch. Cut off the branch from the stem, and it 
 ceases instantaneously to live, for it has no independent 
 life. Even so the fruits of the Spirit, while of course 
 our hearts are the sphere of their manifestation, are in 
 no sense from our hearts ; they are not the result of 
 the energizing of our own will ; they are not a right- 
 eousness of our own, built up by a series of endeavours, 
 or a laborious process of self-discipline, but a righteous- 
 ness outflowing continually from the fulness of Grace 
 which is in Christ. 
 
 Another illustration may perhaps help to impress 
 the truth. When we walk abroad on a beautiful day, 
 and survey a landscape lit up by the beams of a sum- 
 mer sun, our eye catches a variety of colours lying on 
 the surface of this landscape, — there is the yellow of 
 the golden grain, the green of the pasture-land, the 
 dark brown of those thick-planted copses, the silver 
 gleam of the stream which winds through them, the 
 faint blue of distant hills seen in perspective, the more 
 intense blue of the sky, the purple tinge of yonder 
 sheet of *Nvater ; but none of these colours reside in the 
 landscape, they are not the properties of the material 
 objects on which they rest. All colours are wrapped 
 up in the sunlight, which, as is well known, may be 
 seen resolved into its elementary colours in the prism 
 or the rainbow. Apart from the sunlight no object 
 has any colour ; as is shown by the fact that, as soon as 
 Light is withdrawn from the landscape, the colours 
 fade from the robe of Nature. The difference of colour 
 in different objects, while the sun is shining, is produced 
 
T.] of Sanctity on Christ. 29 
 
 by some subtle differences of texture or superficies, 
 which makes each object absorb certain rays, and 
 reflect certain other rays, in different proportions. 
 Now Christ is the Sun of Righteousness, in Whom 
 dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bodily, — the 
 fair colour of every grace and Christian virtue. When 
 Christ is shining upon the heart, then these virtues 
 are manifested there by one Christian grace of one 
 description, by another of another, according to their 
 different receptivity and natural temperament, just as, 
 when the sun is shining, colours are thrown upon a 
 landscape, and reflected by the different objects in dif- 
 ferent proportions. But as no part of the landscape 
 has any colour in the absence of the sun, nor can 
 acquire any independently of the sun, so Christians 
 have no grace except from Christ, nor hold any virtue 
 independently of Him. 
 
 Let it be clearly understood, then, that the great 
 secret of bringing forth much fruit, or, in other words, 
 of all advance in grace and holiness, is according to 
 the profound teaching of Our Lord Himself, a constant 
 kee|>ing open (and if possible, enlarging) the avenues 
 of the soul towards Him. If a vine-branch is to sprout 
 and throw out new suckers and shoots, the tube by 
 tvhich it communicates with the stock of the tree must 
 adhere tightly to the stem, and be well open for the 
 passage of the sap. If you desire to see the colours of 
 furniture in this room, whose shutters are closed, throw 
 open the shutters, and admit the full flood of sunlight. 
 And if you desire to see the dead heart put forth the 
 energies of spiritual life, and the dark heart illumined 
 by the fair colours of spiritual grace, throw wide open 
 the passage of communication between Christ and it, 
 and allow the Life which is in Ilim, and the Light 
 
30 Of the entire dependence [part 
 
 which is in Him, to circulate freely through it. — But 
 how to do this ? in other words, how to fulfil His own 
 precept, " Abide in Me, and I in you ?' Ah ! vitally 
 important question, — question upon which the whole 
 of our sanctification (and thus the whole of our sal- 
 vation) is suspended! Let us address ourselves to 
 answer it, with the earnest prayer that God would 
 ^uide us into all truth. 
 
 Observe that our Lord prescribes mutual indwell- 
 ing, as the secret of spiritual fertility. Take heed that 
 ye " abide in Me, and I in you." Here is not one idea 
 only, but two ; the dwelling of the Christian in Christ, 
 as the body dwells in an atmosphere, and the dwell- 
 ing of Christ in the Christian, as the soul dwells in 
 the body. 
 
 I. Take heed, first, that " ye abide in Me." This is 
 done by faith. As we first consciously entered into 
 fellowship with Christ by faith (I say consciously 
 entered into fellowship with him, for when we were 
 baptised as infants, we entered unconsciously into His 
 fellowship), so there is no other way to abide in Him, 
 than by repeated exercises of the same faith. The 
 fliith which enables the soul to abide in Christ is 
 nothing else than an assured trust and confidence on 
 our part, that, as He has already wrought out for us 
 our acceptance with God, so He will work in us every 
 gracious disposition (be it repenta.nce, or faith itself, 
 or humility, or hope, or love) which is necessary to 
 qualify us for glory. It is not enough to supplicate 
 these graces ; we must lean upon Him for them, and 
 fix the eye of expectation upon the promise of His new 
 Covenant ; " I will put My laws into their mind, and 
 write them in their hearts:" being well assured that 
 He will fulfil to us the terms thereof. There is a pro- 
 
I.] of Sanctity on Christ. 31 
 
 mise, I say, that He will fulfil in us all the work of 
 Sanctification ; and it is well that it is so, by way 
 of making assurance doubly sure, and giving to the 
 doubtful heart a stronger consolation. But even were 
 there no promise, could it be a question as to whether 
 He would form in us those tempers and frames of mind, 
 which He Himself requires of us 1 Do we seriously 
 believe that He loved us so intensely as to abdicate His 
 throne in Heaven for our sakes, to empty Himself of 
 all the glory wiiich He had with the Father before the 
 world was, to confine Himself within the limits of man's 
 feeble faculties, and feebler body, to expose Himself to 
 shame, and spitting, and obloquy, and a death most 
 cruel and ignominious ? If we do not believe as much 
 as this, we are clearly no Christians. And if we do 
 believe thus much, is it conceivable that He who has 
 gone to the utmost verge of self-sacrifice in ransoming 
 our souls, should be wanting to us in what will cost 
 Him no sacrifice, but yet is necessary to complete our 
 salvation ? If the soul has the least scintillation of a 
 desire to be holy ; much more, if it is bent on being 
 holy, as far as its power goes ; still more if it is striving 
 and struggling to be holy, and beating against the cage 
 of its corruptions in a great longing for spiritual free- 
 dom, as a poor imprisoned bird beats, who sees outside 
 the bright sun and the green trees, and other birds 
 flitting to and fro in the blue ether, — is it conceivable 
 that the Incarnate Love, the Love which bled, and 
 agonized, and poured itself out in death for the objects 
 on which it had fastened, should not meet that desire, 
 that longing, that striving, and visit the soul M'ith 
 power? As without holiness no man shall (or can) 
 see the Lord, must not Christ be much more earnestly 
 anxious to make us holy, than we can be to be made 
 
32 Of the entire dependence [pakt 
 
 so? If we do not believe in this earnest anxiety 
 of His, do we believe in His love at all % Have we 
 ever really apprehended it ; or has it been merely a tale 
 recited to our ears, which we do not care indeed to con- 
 tradict, but which has never at all taken hold of, or 
 touched, our hearts? 
 
 Ah ! what if these struggles to be holy should them- 
 -selves be in a certain sense a token of unbelief? What if 
 the poor bird imprisoned in the cage should be thinking 
 that, if it is ever to gain its liberty, it must be by its 
 own exertions, and by vigorous and frequent strokes of 
 its wings against the bars ? If it did so, it would ere 
 long fall back breathless and exhausted, fliint and sore, 
 and despairing. And the soul will have a similar ex- 
 perience, which thinks that Christ has indeed won par- 
 don and acceptance for her, but tl^at Sanctification she 
 must win for herself, and under this delusion beats 
 herself sore in vain efforts to correct the propensities 
 of a heart which the Word of God pronounces to be 
 "desperately" wicked. That heart, — you can make 
 nothing of it yourself; — leave it to Christ, in quiet 
 dependence upon His grace. Suffer Him to open the 
 prison-doors for you, and then you shall fly out and 
 hide yourself in your Lord's Bosom, and there find rest. 
 Yield up the soul to Him, and place it in His hands ; 
 and you shall at once begin to have the delightful ex- 
 perience of His power in sanctifying. 
 
 '* Yield up the soul," we say. And in saying so, 
 we of course imply (though it needs to be expressed, 
 as well as implied) that you yield up your will with- 
 out reserve. There is no such thing as yielding up the 
 sold, without yielding up the will ; for the will is the 
 chief power of the soul. Christ Himself cannot sanc- 
 tify a moral agent, whose will holds persistently to his 
 
I.] of Sanctity on Christ. 3S 
 
 corruptions. Even a man cannot liberate a bird from 
 its cage, which likes to stay there, refuses to move when 
 the door is opened, and flies back when it is taken out 
 God has given us a free will, the exercise of which 
 cannot indeed change our hearts or renew .our moral 
 nature, but which can say " Nay " to the world, to the 
 flesh, and the devil ; which shows that it can say 
 " Nay," by saying it sometimes, when worldly interests 
 are concerned. And this " Nay " it must say, if the 
 soul is to be sanctified and bring forth fruit. 
 
 II. But our blessed Lord said not only " Abide 
 in Me," but also " Let Me, or take heed that I, abide 
 in you." He thus teaches us that Ordinance, as well 
 as Faith, forms part of the system of His religion, and 
 especially that Ordinance, in which indeed all others are 
 included, by which He communicates Himself to the 
 faithful soul. In order to the fruitfalness of the vine- 
 branch, two conditions have to be fulfilled ; the first 
 that the branch shall adhere closely to the stem, and 
 offer an open tube for the passage of the sap, — this is 
 the abiding of the branch in the vine ;" the second, that 
 the sap shall rise ever and anon from the vine-stock, 
 and pass into the branch, — this is the abiding of the 
 vine in the branch. Similarly in the case of the 
 Christian. The first condition of his spiritual fruitful- 
 ness is that he shall adhere by a close trust to Christ, 
 and keep open towards Him the avenues of faith, 
 hope, and expectation. This is, " Abide in Me." The 
 second is, that Christ shall continually send up into his 
 heart a current of holy inspirations, new loves, good 
 impulses, devout hopes. Or, more accurately, that Ilcr 
 shall communicate Himself to the soul by the continual 
 influx of the Holy Ghost. This is, " And I in you." 
 And this communication of Himself is made specially 
 
 9* 
 
34 Of the entire dependence [paki 
 
 (where that Sacrament may be had) in the Supper of 
 the Lord ; He comes at those seasons into the opened 
 avenue of the faithful communicant's soul, comes to 
 cement by His own passage into the inner man the 
 union in which our faith cleaves to Him ; and the 
 result is " the strengthening and refreshing of our 
 souls by the Body and Blood of Christ, as our bodies 
 are by the Bread and Wine." 
 
 Thus a devout and frequent use of the Sacrament 
 appointed for spiritual growth, and as the instrument of 
 Christ's indwelling, is, though not literally expressed in 
 this passage, clearly implied. And it should be observed 
 that the Divine allegory quite precludes the supposition 
 that without faith in the recipient the Holy Supper 
 wdll avail any thing for sanctification and growth in 
 grace. The vine-stock may push upwards its sap in 
 strong current, at the first outburst of the genial 
 spring; but w^hat will that avail the branch, w^hich 
 does not hold closely to the tree, which is half broken 
 off from the stem, and the fracture filled up with dust, 
 or corroded by insects ? Christ may offer Himself to 
 us in the Lord's Supper ; but, if the soul cleaves not to 
 Him, if the avenues of the heart are not open towards 
 Him, how can He enter % 
 
 Finally ; it is particularly important in speaking of 
 Christ's communication with us by Ordinances, to 
 recognize the exact position which the Ordinance holds, 
 so as not to estimate it unduly, or erect it into the 
 place which is due only to the Lord of the Ordinance. 
 Be it clearly understood, then, that no Ordinance (not 
 even Holy Communion itself) is otherwise valuable 
 than as a channel or vehicle of communication with 
 tlie Church's Lord. They are all (even the highest 
 and holiest) so many tubes, through which the sap of . 
 
I.] ' of Sanctity on Christ. 35 
 
 grace rises from the vine-stock into the branches. For 
 which reason, in advocating the devout use of Ordi 
 nances, we do not in the slightest degree derogate 
 from our Lord's honour, nor direct the eye of the mind 
 to another point of sight than Him. It is not to be 
 imagined for a moment that a man by prayers, and 
 fastings, and meditations, and Sacraments, lays in a 
 stock of holiness, which becomes to him so much 
 realized spiritual gain, upon which he may draw in 
 case a spiritual bankruptcy should threaten him at the 
 hour of death or the day of judgment. Away with 
 such ideas, which are a modern form of Pharisaism ! 
 These Ordinances are precious and blessed for no other 
 reason than that they bring us into relation, by His 
 own institution of them, with the great Head of the 
 Church; and except we stand in such relation, and 
 except such relation is from time to time renewed, and 
 cemented, and strengthened, there is no life in us. Of 
 faith itself the same remark might be made. There 
 is no intrinsic merit in trusting to Christ, just as there 
 is no intrinsic merit in praying and communicating ; 
 but faith is the ordained inward means, as Prayers and 
 Sacraments are the ordained outward means, of com- 
 munication with the One Source of Life and Sanctity. 
 
 An illustration may sometimes serve a good turn in 
 keeping truth distinctly before the mind. I therefore 
 offer the following illustration of the mutual relations 
 between Christ, our faith, and Christian Ordinances. 
 A woman, like the Samaritan in the Gospel, comes 
 with a pitcher to draw water at a well. Her object is 
 to reach and procure the water ; and she does this by 
 letting down the pitcher into the well, and drawing it 
 up again. It is at once understood that the pitcher is 
 not the same thing as the muscular action, by which it 
 
36 Of the entire dependence of Sanctity on Christ, [part 
 
 is let down and drawn up. Both must contribute to 
 the result; for without either pitcher or muscular 
 action no water could be obtained ; but the pitcher is 
 external to the person, the -muscular action a move- 
 ment of the person. It is also clearly seen that neither 
 pitcher nor muscular action are water, — that the arm 
 might put itself forth for ever, and the pitcher be let 
 down continually, but that if it were a dry pit into 
 which the vessel were lowered, no refreshment could be 
 had thereby. The figure is easy of application. Christ 
 is the Well of the Water of Life, from Whom alone can 
 be drawn those streams of Grace, which refresh, and 
 quicken, and fertilize the soul. It is by faith that the 
 soul reaches out after this living water ; faith is the 
 soul's muscular action, by which the water is drawn up 
 and brought into use. But faith needs as an implement 
 those means which Christ has appointed, and parti- 
 cularly the mean of means, which He instituted for the 
 conveyance of Himself to faithful souls. These means 
 are the pitcher, in which the water is conveyed. Faith 
 is not a Chi'ist ; neither are Sacraments a Christ ; but 
 faith (under all circumstances) and Sacraments, where 
 they may be had, are necessary to the appropriation 
 and enjoyment of Christ. 
 
 Oh for more faith, m; re of the principle which 
 cleaves closely in trust, and affiance, and self-surrender, 
 to the Lord ! It is not in the use of means, generally 
 speaking, that religious persons are deficient ; but it 
 is in that believing use of them, which recognizes Him 
 as the only Source of Grace and Life, and having done 
 His will with simplicity, assures itself of the blessing. 
 O True Vine, let us cleave to Thee with such a faith, 
 so that the virtue which is in Thee may pass into our 
 souls, and that we may bring forth much fruit, to the 
 glory of God the Father ! Amen. 
 
I.] Personal Relif/ion both Active and Contemplative. 37 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 PEESONAL KELIGION BOTH ACTIVE AND CONTEMrLATlVE. 
 
 " In the year that King Uzziah died I saw also the Lord sitting vpon 
 a throne^ high and lifted up^ and his train JiUed the temple. 
 " Above it stood the Seraphims : each one had six wings : with 
 twain he covered his face, and with twain he covered his feet, and 
 with twain he did fly.'''' — Isa. vi. 1, 2. 
 
 We are speaking of Personal Religion, which has been 
 explained to be one and the same thing with the life of 
 God in the individual soul. In this Chapter we propose 
 to trace out the two great divisions of the subject. 
 
 We are taught by our Lord Himself to pray that 
 God's will may be done " upon earth, as it is in heaven." 
 The persons by whom it is done in heaven, are, of 
 course, the holy angels. Our Lord, therefore, in 
 bidding us offer this petition, proposes to us the 
 anirelic life as the model of the Christian life. And 
 this throws us back upon the inquiry what the life of 
 angels is ; for manifestly we cannot form our life upon 
 their model, unless we have some sufficient idea of their 
 pursuits and occupations. Accordingly, the Scripture 
 furnishes such an idea. The veil is drawn aside by tlie 
 prophet Isaiah, and a glimpse is given us of the life of 
 Seraphim, or "burning ones" (for such is the meaning 
 of the Hebrew word), an order of angels who in all 
 probability take their name from the fervent zeal and 
 burning love with which they arc animated. The 
 prophet sees in a vision these shining creatures standing 
 
38 Personal Religion [pabt 
 
 above the throne of Christ (for it was He, St. John 
 informs us, whose glory Isaiah saw on this occasion) ; 
 and their occupations were twofold : first, contemplative 
 devotion ; secondly, quick and active service. " Each 
 one had six wings ; with twain he covered his face, and 
 with twain he covered his feet ;" — this is the Seraphim's 
 life of devotion. " And with twain he did fly ;" — this 
 is his life of active service. If, then, God's will is to 
 be done by His people on earth, as it is by His angels in 
 Heaven, there must enter into the spiritual life upon 
 earth two great elements, devotion towards God, and 
 work for God. We will take a general view of each of 
 these. Subsequent Chapters will prosecute the subject 
 in detail under these two heads. 
 
 I. The spiritual or angelic life upon earth consists 
 not only of devotion; To suppose that the spiritual 
 life is devotion, and nothing else, is the mistake of the 
 recluse, the ascetic, and the monk. One round of 
 religious service, one long peal of the organ from 
 matins to evensong, one prayer unbroken, except by 
 the actual necessities of the body, and by these as little 
 as may be, — this is the idea of conventual life, though 
 it may be an idea never realized to the full extent. 
 And quite apart from the conventual system, wherever 
 there are multiplied religious services (a great help, of 
 course, if used in a certain' way), and leisure and the 
 will to attend on them, there is always a tendency, 
 against which the devout man must be on his guard, to 
 wrap up the whole of religion in attendance upon the 
 means of grace. But the Seraph himself, though indeed 
 the spirit of adoration is upon him always, is not 
 always engaged in direct acts of praise. " With twain 
 of his wings he doth fly," — speed forth, like lightning, 
 upon the eyrands on which God sends him. Gabriel, 
 
I.] both Active and Contcmiylative. 30 
 
 who stands in the presence of God, must come down to 
 the earth, and enter beneath a humble roof in Nazareth, 
 to salute a pure maiden as mother of the Son of God. 
 Another angel has it in charge to descend periodically 
 into the pool of Bethesda, and impart to the waters a 
 healing efficacy, sufficient for one patient. Another is 
 sent to roll back the stone from the Holy Sepulchre, 
 and sit upon it, inspiring the Roman guard with terror, 
 and the holy women with an assurance of the resur- 
 rection. Another must pass into St. Peter's prison- 
 house, and lead him out through bolt, and bar, and 
 iron grating, "to freedom and cool moonlight air." 
 Another must shoot down, like a falling star, into the 
 cabin of a ship tossed with the waves of the stormy 
 Adriatic, and announce to St. Paul that despite all 
 the fury of the elements, he and all the crew, of which 
 he formed a part, w^ere safe in life and limb ; while 
 another is commissioned to salute by name a praying- 
 centurion of the Italian band^ and to assure him that 
 his prayers and his alms had come up as a memorial 
 before God. Thus one and all of them are, not merely 
 adoring spirits, but also " ministering spirits, sent forth 
 to minister for those who shall be heirs of salvation." 
 Praise is not their only occupation ; they have active 
 work to do for God. 
 
 Reader, there is a deep-seated necessity for Avork in 
 the constitution of our nature. In the absence of 
 regular and active occupation, the mind is apt to grow 
 morbid, stagnant, and what is worse than either — 
 selfish. One of the greatest thinkers of antiquity 
 defined happiness to be " an energy of the soul." And 
 is it not true"? Only watch the avidity with which 
 men, even in extreme old age, when one would think 
 that the interests of :;his life were on the wane for 
 
40 Personal Religion [part 
 
 them, catch at some exciting pursuit, like politics. 
 The lesson, which as Christians we should draw from 
 this observation, is that most unquestionably God has 
 made man for activity, as well as for contemplation. 
 The reason why the activity fails in numberless in- 
 stances to secure happiness, is that it is separated from 
 God, that it is not in His service and interests. This 
 being the case, it too often engrosses, hampers, en- 
 tangles, impedes, — is as a dead weight to the soul, 
 instead of, as it might be, a wing, and a means of fur- 
 therance. 
 
 Let every one, therefore, who studies Personal Ee- 
 ligion, seriously consider, first, in what quarter lies the 
 work which God has given him to do ; and next, how 
 he may execute that work in a happy and a holy frame 
 of mind. I need not say that the services on which 
 God condescends to employ men are almost infinitely 
 various. Each one of us has a stewardship somewhere 
 in the great social system, and some gift qualifying 
 him for it ; and if he w^ill but consult faithfully the 
 intimations of God's providence, he will not be long 
 before he discovers what it is. It may be that we are 
 called to very humble duties, duties very low down in 
 the social scale: Still even they are held from God, and 
 constitute a stewardship ; and the one talent which 
 qualifies us for them will have to be accounted for as 
 much as if it were ten talents. To regard the business 
 attaching to any station of life as insignificant, is as 
 unreasonable as it is unscriptural. St. Paul says of the 
 human body, that God has "given honour to those 
 members which lacked." The same may be said of 
 society. Its whole fabric and framework is built up of 
 humble duties accurately fulfilled by persons in humble 
 stations. What would become of society, and how 
 
I.] both Active and ContemiAadve. 4l 
 
 could its well-being and progress be secured, if all the 
 subordinates in every department of life, all those who 
 have to play the more mechanical parts, were to throw 
 up their callings on the excuse that they were not 
 sufficiently dignified % How would it fare with the 
 plans of the architect, if the builders and masons. 
 throughout the country were to suspend their labours ? 
 But we need not reason upon the subject, where the 
 Word of God has spoken so explicitly. The Scripture, 
 with that wonderful penetration into the thoughts of 
 man which characterizes its every page, has taken care 
 to set the seal of dignity and sacredness upon those 
 callings and employments which are lowest in the 
 social scale. Our Blessed Lord, when learning of the 
 doctors in the Temple, and through their instruction 
 growing in wisdom, teaches us that to be engaged thus 
 in childhood is to be about our Father's business. We 
 naturally look down upon a child learning a lesson, and 
 think that it is no great matter whether the lesson be 
 learned or not. Christ opens a widely different view of 
 the subject, when he connects even a child's growth in 
 wisdom with its relation to God. " Wist ye not that I 
 must be in the things of my rather?" {kvroi^ rov 
 Trarpo^ fxov.) 
 
 Bat still more remarkable, perhaps, in its bearing on 
 our present subject, is the treatment of the duties of 
 servants in the New Testament. These servants were 
 slaves, and mostly slaves to heathen masters. If ever 
 duty took a degrading form, it ^tnust have done so 
 frequently in their case. If ever of any calling one 
 might say, " There is no divine stewardship in it," this 
 might have been said surely of slavery among the 
 heathens. Yet it is recognized in the strongest way, 
 'jhat even the slave's duties may be sanctified by im 
 
42 Personal Religion [pari 
 
 porting into them a Christian motive, and that when 
 such a motive is imported into them, the service is 
 really done not to the human master, but (marvellous 
 condescension !) to the great Head of the Church Him- 
 self. " Servants, obey in all things your masters 
 according to the flesh : not with eye-service, as men- 
 pleasers ; but in singleness of heart, fearing God : and 
 whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and 
 not unto men; knowing that of the Lord ye shall 
 receive the reward of the inheritance : for ye serve the 
 Lord Christy No less truly, then, than quaintly did 
 good George Herbert sing : 
 
 "All may of Thes partake: 
 Nothing can be so mean, 
 Which with this tincture (for Thy sake) 
 Will not grow bright and clean. 
 
 " A servant with this clause 
 Makes drudgery divine. 
 Who sweeps a room, as for Thy laws, 
 Makes that and the action fine." 
 
 Now if both a child's education, and a slave's 
 drudgery find their place in the vast system of God's 
 service, what lawful calling can we suppose to be ex- 
 cluded from a place in that system % 
 
 IL But we remark, secondly, that there is a con- 
 templative element in the service of the Seraphim, — 
 that their activity is fed from the springs of their 
 devotion. There are two chief passages of Holy Scrip- 
 ture (one in the OM and one in the New Testament) 
 in which we obtain a glimpse of angels engaged in 
 worship. One is that before us, in which the prophet 
 sees the Seraphim, with veiled faces and feet, crying 
 one to another before the throne, " Holy, holy, holy, is 
 the Lord of hosts ; the whole earth is full of His glory." 
 
I.] both Active and Contemplative. 43 
 
 This was a heavenly scene. It was enacted in the 
 Temple, which represented Heaven. But in the New 
 Testament we find the Seraphim domesticating -them- 
 selves upon earth, in the outlying field of a village 
 where cattle were penned. When the Lord of Heaven, 
 laying aside the robe of light and the tiara of ttie 
 rainbow, appeared among us in the form of an infant 
 cradled in a manger. He drew an escort of the Seraphim 
 after Him : '• And suddenly there was with the angel 
 a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and 
 saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth 
 peace, good will toward men." 
 
 The ministry of angels then, is only half their life. 
 The other half, which indeed makes their ministry 
 glow with zeal, is their worship. And so it must be 
 with God's human servants. 
 
 The activity which flows from ambition, the dili- 
 gence which is purely mechanical and the result of 
 habit, is not angelic diligence and activity. To 
 attempt to lead the spiritual life without devotion is 
 even a greater mistake than to go apart from our 
 duties in order to lead it. Our flying on God's 
 errands will be an unhallowed flight, if we do not first 
 secretly adore Him in our hearts. A prayerless day of 
 hard work, consecrated by no holy meditation, oh, 
 what a dull, plodding, tramping day is it ! How do 
 we spend money in such a day for that which is not 
 bread, and our labour for that which satisfieth not ! 
 How docs God in such a day deal with us, as with the 
 Egyptians of old, taking off" the chariot-wheels from 
 our work, so that we drive it heavily ! How, if we 
 turn our mind to better things in the stillness of the 
 night, docs the Lord seem to stand over the bed, and 
 reprove all that godless toil and turmoil, which in a 
 
44 Personal Religion [paet 
 
 spiritual point of view has run to waste, with this 
 loving irony : " It is but lost labour that ye haste to 
 rise up early, and so late take rest, and eat the bread 
 of carefulness , for so He giveth His beloved sleep !" 
 And in these times and this country the danger of the 
 vast majority of men — your danger, perchance, reader 
 ■ — lies in this direction. Activity is now, if it ever 
 was, the order of the day with all classes. Competi- 
 tion, and the cry for qualified persons in every depart- 
 ment of industry, are driving all drones out of the 
 social hive. No one has a moment to spare. The 
 strain and stress of occupation frequently proves too 
 great for feeble bodies and sensitive minds. And with 
 those who are physically and intellectually equal to 
 cope with the pressure of multiplied and urgent 
 business, the mind too often burrows and is buried in 
 its work, and scarcely ever comxcs out to sun itself in 
 the light of Heaven. With a fatal facility we dispense 
 ourselves from prayer, and meditation, and self-exami- 
 nation, on the ground of fatigue, or pressing avocations, 
 or necessity of refreshment. Yet secret devotion is 
 the source, not of strength only, but of comfort, and 
 even of success, in any high acceptation of the word. 
 Success is no success, if it makes not a happy mind, 
 and the mind which is not holy cannot be happy. A 
 good author, writing before the invention of the 
 compass, says, — Even when your affiiirs be of such 
 importance as to require your whole attention, you 
 should look mentally towards God from time to time, 
 as mariners do, who, to arrive at the port for which 
 they are bound, look more up towards Heaven than 
 down on the sea on which they sail ; thus will God 
 work with you, in you, and for you : and all your 
 labour shall be accompanied with consolation." 
 
l] both Active and Contem^plative. 45 
 
 Hitherto we have been founding our remarks on a 
 passage of Holy Scripture, which represents to us the 
 employment of angels. And it may be thought by 
 some that the nature of angels being probably exempt 
 from those infirmities which beset ours, and not ex- 
 posed to the pressure of weariness or the urgencies of 
 appetite, they are in truth no suitable model for us, or 
 at all events a model which, from the disparity of their 
 circumstances, can only put us out of heart. But have 
 we no instance of life, both eminently practical and 
 eminently devout, led in the flesh, and under the 
 constant pressure of physical infirmities? Has man 
 never yet attained to live the angelic life upon earth 1 
 Indeed he has done so; and the record of his having 
 done so is in the Gospels. There was One " tempted 
 in all points like as we are, yet without sin," who 
 followed up days of active benevolence, in which He 
 spent and was spent for the people, by nights of prayer. 
 Consider only that touching passage of His history, in 
 which, after receiving the announcement of the Bap- 
 tist's death, our Lord expresses a natural desire for 
 privacy and repose. The multitudes, however, track 
 Him to His place of retirement, and throng around 
 Him there with the clamour of their necessities, as 
 heretofore. Fallen human nature could hardly have 
 done otherwise than vent a slight irritability at having 
 its purpose thus rudely crossed ; but from the depths 
 of that most pure and loving heart there struggled up 
 no other feeling than that of compassion, as He looked 
 forth upon the sea of human heads. Human misery 
 called the Good Shepherd, and He at once responded 
 to the call. He healed all the sick whom they had 
 brought, and " began to teach them many things," until 
 the day wore away. Having fed their minds with Divine 
 
46 Personal Religion [pakt 
 
 truth, He proceeded to feed their bodies miraculously 
 before He dismissed them, " lest they should faint by 
 the way." And this being done, one might have 
 thought that at the close of so laborious a day, He 
 would at length have sought repose. But He does 
 not so. The pouring out of His soul before the 
 Father has been delayed ; but it shall not be precluded. 
 That His solitude might be entire, He compels His 
 disciples to get into the ship, and go before unto the 
 other side, while He Himself upon the mountain offers 
 His evening orison late into the night. And though, 
 of course, no flillen creature has ever maintained the 
 same nicely-adjusted balance between devotion and 
 active service, which is observable in the mind and life 
 of Christ, — though some saints have been (like St. 
 John) characterized rather by devout contemplative- 
 ness, and others (like St. Paul) by zealous activity, — 
 yet all His true people have preserved in different 
 proportions the twofold character ; — all have been 
 men of service, and all have been likewise men of 
 prayer. 
 
 We have spoken of service and prayer separately, as it 
 is necessary to do in a disquisition. Yet we ought not to 
 think of them as independent things, but rather as closely 
 related and interpenetrating one another. Service and 
 prayer are the web and woof of the Christian life, of 
 which every part of it is composed. Both are in the 
 groundwork of the stuff. Not even in point of time must 
 they be too rigidly sundered from one another. Prayer at 
 stated seasons is good and necessary ; but a man aiming 
 at sanctity in ever so low a degree, will find it impossible 
 to confine his prayers to stated seasons. He will soon 
 discover that prayer is literally, and not merely in a 
 figure, " the Christian's breath of life ;" and that to 
 
I.] both Active and Contemplative. 4*? 
 
 attempt to carry on the spiritual life without more prayer 
 than the recital of a form on rising, and retiring to rest, 
 is about the same absurdity as it would be for a man to 
 open his casement morning and evening, and inhale 
 the fresh air for a few minutes, and then say to himself 
 on closing it, that that amount of breathing must suf- 
 fice him for the rest of the day. The analogy suggested 
 by this image is, I believe, a perfectly true one, and will 
 hold good if examined. The air from the casement is 
 very delicious, very healthful, very refreshing, very invi- 
 gorating ; it is a good thing to stand at the casement and 
 inhale it ; but there must be air in the shop, in the fac- 
 tory, in the office, as well as at the casement, if the 
 man, as he works, is to survive. Under this view of it? 
 ejaculatory prayer is seen to be even a more essential 
 thing than stated prayer. Both are necessary to the 
 well-beitig of the Christian life ; but the momentary 
 lifting the heart to God, — the mcmientary realization of 
 His presence amidst business or under temptation, — is 
 necessary to its very being. The life is no more, when 
 this work is suspended. For which reason probably it 
 is that the great a])ostolic prayer-precept is given with a 
 breadth which excludes all limitations of time and place, 
 — " Pray without ceasing." Ejaculatory prayer, how- 
 ever, must by and by form the subject of a distinct 
 Chapter, which we will not now a!nticipate. 
 
 Reader, our subject assumes, as we progress with it, 
 a more definite shape in our minds. Personal Religion, 
 as we saw in our last Chapter, involves growth. Per- 
 sonal Religion, as we now see, involves prayer, — in- 
 cluding under that term all the exercises of devotion, 
 both public and private. Then are we men of prayer 1 
 Let the conscience take home this question and answer 
 it faithfully. Let the conscience of men, and of men of 
 
48 Personal Religion both Active and Contemplative. 
 
 business, take it home. It is a man's question, and a 
 busy man's question, rather than a woman's. Women as 
 a general rule have more leisure than men, and have 
 certainly more of that constitutional temperament, 
 which, when God's grace visits it, inclines to devotion. 
 It is in a hard, busy, bustling life, a life which asks an 
 active and unimaginative mind, and which chills all 
 approach to sentiment, — in short it is in the life of a man 
 of business habits that the temptation to live without 
 prayer is felt. How then, in your case and in mine, can 
 the searching question be mot ? Widely as in different 
 ages and in different countries the experiences of the 
 children of God have differed, this has been the one 
 universal experience, the one common characteristic 
 without a single exception, — hoary-headed elders, and 
 brave martyrs, and wise teachers, and weak women, 
 and servants, and even little children, "the great 
 multitude which no man could number, of all nations, 
 .and kindreds, and people, and tongues," — all have been 
 people of prayer. Prayer is the very spot of His chil- 
 dren ; and the more we know of the power of Personal 
 Religion, the more distinctly will the spot come out, as 
 it were, upon the surface of the skin. Is the spot upon 
 us ? Do we enter often into the closet of the dwelling, 
 oftener still into the closet of the heart, to commune 
 with our Father which seeth in secret ? Unless this be 
 our case, all our interest in religion is superficial, not 
 personal, and will appear to be so, to our confusion, in 
 the day when God shall judge the secrets of men by 
 Jesus Christ according to the Gospel. 
 
PART A. 
 
 THE C0NTE5IPLATIVE LIFE. 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 OF THE MAGNIFICENCE OF PEAYEE, AND THE PEAC- 
 TICAL DEDUCTIONS FEOM THAT DOCTEINE. 
 
 "^e that Cometh to Gody — Heb. xi. 6. 
 
 The Christian life, as we saw in our last Chapter, 
 branches out like the life of the Seraphim, into the two 
 divisions of Devotion and Action. "We shall speak first 
 of Devotion, endeavouring to furnish some thoughts 
 which may be practically useful to the reader in his 
 efforts to maintain communion with God ; and then of 
 Active Life, — the spirit in which its duties should be 
 fulfilled and its difficulties surmounted. And as ejacu- 
 latory prayer is, in fact, the intermingling of devotion 
 with action,. — as it is the meeting-point of prayer and 
 service, — we shall give' it a middle place between the 
 two, and use it as a bridge, whereby to pass from the 
 first to the second division of our subject. 
 
 First, then, to speak of Devotion, which for our 
 present purpose may be all summed up in one word, 
 Prayer. There would be less of formality in prayer, and 
 far more of strength and enjoyment in it, if men did but 
 grasp the idea of what prayer is. But simple as the 
 idea is, it requires an effort of the mind to master it • 
 and while we are willing enough to pay mechanically 
 our daily tribute of homage at the Throne of Grace, 
 
52 Of the Magnificence of Prayer, and the [part 
 
 natural slothfulness alway s recalcitrates against an effort 
 of mind. Gradual ascent is as necessary to the mind, 
 in order to its reaching a great idea, as it is to the body 
 in order to its reaching a great height. We cannot as- 
 cend to the pinnacle of a cathedral, which towers aloft 
 in air, without either steps or an inclined plane. We 
 cannot reach the summit of a mountain without first 
 toiling up its base, then traversing its breast, and then, 
 successively, crossing the limits where verdure passes 
 into crag, and crag into a wilderness of snow. Even 
 when we have gained the highest point, we are still, it 
 is true, at an infinite distance from the blue vault of the 
 firmament which stretches above our heads. Still we 
 have a better and more exalted view of what that fir- 
 mament is : we have at least risen above the fogs and 
 mists which obscure its glory ; and the air which en- 
 compasses us is transparent to the eye, and invigorating 
 to the frame. Now the law of man's bodily progress 
 is also the law of his mental progress. Both must 
 be gradual. No grand idea can be realized except 
 by successive steps and stages, which the mind must 
 use as landing-places in its ascent. But what if the 
 mind, after all its toil, should prove unable fully to 
 master the idea, as must be the case where the idea 
 to be mastered is connected with God and things 
 divine 1 It does not at all follow that therefore our 
 labour has been lost. We have, at all events, risen to a 
 higher level, where our view is more transparent, more 
 elevating, more sublime, and where the play of the 
 thoughts is invigorating to the inner man. And now 
 let us apply these reflections to the subject in hand. 
 
 Prayer is nothing more or less than a " coming to 
 God." Now the bare conception of this thing, " coming 
 to God," is sublime and ennobling to the highest de- 
 
II.] Practical Deductions from that Doctrine. 53 
 
 gree. But we are familiar with the idea, and our very 
 familiarity with it — the currency of it among religious 
 persons and in religious books — has worn off the sharp 
 edges of it, until it has ceased to have any definite im- 
 press. Let us seek and pray that the idea may revive 
 with some power in our minds. And this we will do 
 by a series of hypotheses, which shall be as landing- 
 places for the mind in its ascent. 
 
 1. Let us suppose as the first step that we enjoyed 
 the privilege of opening our minds to, and consulting 
 in our every difficulty and trial, the very wisest, and 
 best, and most powerful man upon earth. Suppose 
 that such a person resided in our immediate neighbour- 
 hood, so as to be at all times easily accessible to us. 
 Suppose that his doors stood open day and night, and 
 that he had left instructions with his servant never to 
 deny him to us. Suppose that, from his repeated 
 invitations, coupled with the well-known sincerity of 
 hi^ character, we were perfectly assured that he would 
 give his whole mind to any case which we might lay 
 before him, and consult for us to the best of his ability, 
 and with the keenest interest in our welfare. Can 
 there be any doubt that the doors of this wisest, and 
 best, and most powerful of all men would be besieged 
 with applications for admission to his presence, and 
 that even where persons in distress were not imme- 
 diately extricated by his advice, it would be a great 
 relief to their minds to hear him say, "This is an 
 intricate case, and will require a great deal of manage- 
 ment ; but be assured I will bear it in mind, and take 
 such measures in it as are most for your welfare ? " 
 
 2. But the judgment of even the wisest and best 
 men, while in the body, is liable to be disturbed by 
 many influences, which death will set aside. Mixed 
 
54 Of the Magnificence of Prayer^ and the [part 
 
 up inevitably with earthly interests, and looking at 
 things more or less through the medium of public 
 opinion, they are not now as impartial judges of truth 
 and right as they will be, when separated altogether 
 from the world. Let us imagine then this great 
 separation to have taken place, — the just man to have 
 been " made perfect," and to be now lying in Abraham's 
 bosom, his mind stocked not only with the experiences 
 of life, but with the thousand additional lessons which 
 death will convey. Imagine his spirit to be accessible 
 after death (as some foolishly and wickedly pretend 
 that disembodied spirits are accessible) to those in 
 whom he felt, while living, the strongest interest. 
 Let us suppose, to make the image more definite still, 
 that he is a father, who has always had, during life, a 
 word of counsel and sympathy, and a hand of succour 
 for his children ; and that it has so come to pass that 
 death has-not cut them off from this resort. Doubt- 
 less, they would avail themselves of the privilege with 
 great eagerness ; the difference between the consulta- 
 tions with the living and the departed parent being 
 chiefly this, that a certain awe would rest upon their 
 minds in the latter case, from the reflection that they 
 had to do with the inhabitant of another world, and 
 that the advice given would be doubly valued, coming 
 (as, on the hypothesis, it does) from a sphere where all 
 errors of judgment are thought to be corrected. 
 
 3. And now for another step in our ascent. The 
 Scriptures speak largely of angels, a class of beings 
 whose fliculties transcend ours in our present state; 
 and certain words of our Blessed Lord are upon record, 
 which, though they cannot be said to prove, yet 
 certainly, favour the popular idea of the Jews, that to 
 each person is assigned a guardian-angel. Assuming, 
 
II.] Practical Deductions from that Doctrine, 55 
 
 then, for the Scake of argument, that such guardian- 
 angels exist, let us suppose that each of them feels a 
 special loving interest in the particular soul under his 
 guardianship, trembles for it as in the mad phrenzy of 
 transgression it hangs upon the brink of eternal ruin, 
 and rejoices for it, and with it, as it is plucked away 
 from that brink by the arm of the good Shepherd, and 
 brought back to the fold from which it had strayed. 
 Suppose, again, in this case that we had each of us 
 some power of access to this guardian-angel, that we 
 could summon him to our aid, — lay our difficulties 
 before him, unburden our minds to him, with the 
 assurance of receiving from him both sympathy and 
 succour. Can it be supposed that we should not avail 
 ourselves of such a privilege, as opportunity offered % 
 that we should never call him to our councils, or 
 submit to him our cares 1 
 
 The truth is, that both with regard to angels and 
 to the spirits of departed saints, the very questionable 
 notion that they are accessible to us has been greedily 
 caught at and acted upon by the Roman Church. In 
 defiance of Holy Scripture, which gives no intimation 
 whatever of the possibility of such intercourse, and 
 which, even if it were possible, v»^ould exclude it, as 
 having a tendency to idolatry, and as being a perver- 
 sion of the religious instinct, the Romanist still calls 
 on the Virgin, the saints, the- holy Apostles Peter and 
 Paul, his own patron saint, and his own guardian- 
 angel, to help him in his troubles. A clear proof this, 
 that, if such intercourse between this world and the 
 other were feasible and sanctioned, it would be abun- 
 dantly practised by all men, that the wisdom and 
 power of creatures above us in the scale of nature 
 
56 Of the Magnificence of Prayer^ and the [paet 
 
 would be called in aid of our ignorance and feebleness 
 at almost every hour of our existence. 
 
 4. But we have now climbed by gradual stages to 
 the summit of the mountain, and are left to contem- 
 plate a privilege, which not only might be, but which 
 is our own, and yet of which (partly from its very 
 cheapness and commonness) we either do not avail 
 ourselves at all, or avail ourselves in a formal and 
 mechanical manner. " He that cometh to God." In^ 
 asmuch as God is the Infinite One, we can never by 
 any- reach of the mind gi^asp entirely the idea of coming 
 to Him ; but have we not derived some help, some 
 clearness of view, some apprehension of the magnifi- 
 cence of prayer from the train of thought which we 
 have been pursuing? Created power, wisdom, love, 
 all have their limits, beyond which they cannot help, 
 counsel, or sympathize : our difficulties, our perplexities, 
 our sins, might easily outrun them ; and access to them 
 might not be nearly of so much value as we are apt to 
 imagine. But, " he that cometh to God " — what shall 
 1 say of this privilege 1 The tameness of human lan- 
 guage is disappointing when we attempt to describe it. 
 Throw into one great sum total all that you have ever 
 experienced, or can conceive, of wisdom and power, the 
 most far-sighted discernment of results, with the most 
 absolute control over them, — the keenest intuition into 
 character, with every conceivable influence for moulding 
 it, — think of a providence not of this earth, which no 
 opposition can surprise, and» no device counterplot, 
 calmly and serenely evolving its own designs frorn the 
 perverse agencies of man, and turning the very arm 
 which is raised to defeat it into a minister of its 
 will, — imagine a Being so wonderfully endowed that 
 
II,] Practical Deductions from that Doctrine. 57 
 
 the whole keyboard of Nature, Providence and tha 
 human heart lies under His hand, and, smitten by His 
 mystic fingers, gives forth the harmony which pleases 
 Him ; and then invest Him in your conception with 
 an intensity of love, which is not discouraged by the 
 deepest moral degradation in its objects, and which 
 clings to the person of the sinner with unchilled devo- 
 tion even while it condemns his sin with an abhorrence 
 no less than infinite, — imagine such a Being, and 
 imagine Him accessible to man, and you imagine One, 
 to whom in their hour of L.eed all the world, unless 
 indeed the spell of some deadly fascination were laid 
 upon them, would be resorting continually for guidance, 
 help, and comfort. But this is no imagination. It is 
 a reality. God is such a Being as we have laboured to 
 describe. He not only permits, but invites ; not only 
 invites, but commands, the approach to Him of every 
 comer. And if there be no promise that every prayer 
 shall be heard according to the exact tenor of its pre- 
 scription, yet assuredly there is a promise to all who 
 ask, — most simple, — most express, — most universal, of 
 that nourishment of grace for the human spirit, which 
 is the alone support of spiritual life : " If ye then, 
 being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your 
 children, how much more shall your Father which is in 
 heaven give the Holy Spirit to them that ask Him 1 " 
 
 But miglit we not be reasonably barred from this 
 access to God by a deep feeling of His purity, coupled 
 with the consciousness of our own sin? Indeed it 
 might most justly be so. The Scriptures, and our own 
 hearts re echoing the Scriptures, assure us that in God 
 there is, by the very necessity of His nature, a deep- 
 Beated moral antipathy to evil. " He is of purer eyes 
 than to behold iniquity." In His holiness He is a 
 
58 Of the Magnificence of Prayer^ and the [paei 
 
 consuming fire to the unholy creature. The rays of 
 the sun, concentrated in a burning-glass, cause any 
 combustible material, upon which they are so brought 
 to bear, to become sere, to shrivel, to crumple, to ignite, 
 and finally to pulverize. Something analogous would 
 be the fate of the sinner who, without mediation, 
 should presum.e to draw upon him the full notice of the 
 holy God by venturing into His presence. But we 
 know well that God has provided for the removal of 
 this barrier. We know well that the obedience of the 
 Lord Jesus was such that the holiness of God can 
 detect in it no flaw ; that His Death and Passion were 
 the endurance by the Righteous One of God's curse 
 upon sin ; and that the earliest message of the Gospel 
 is, that both the obedience and the death of Christ are 
 available for every member of the human family, who, 
 without an attempt at self-justification, simply throws 
 himself upon that plea. The way to come to God, and 
 the only way to come so as not to meet with rejection, 
 is Christ. " I am the way : no man cometh unto the 
 Father but by Me." In other words, when the soul is 
 to be lifted up in prayer, it must be in dependence 
 upon His merits and blood-shedding. It was to sym- 
 bolize this -precious and fundamental truth, that the 
 primitive Christians wore a white garment in divine 
 worship (which still survives among us under the name 
 of the surplice), thus giving a lesson, as they were fond 
 of doing, through the eye, that no soul of man could 
 appear before God in its native deformity ; but that 
 before we draw near to the throne of grace, we must 
 put on the robe of righteousness, which the Lord Jesus 
 wove, and now offers gratuitously to all who sincerely 
 confess their spiritual nakedness and shame. 
 
 But it is now time to exhibit the bearing of these 
 
II.] Practical Deductions from that' Doctrine. 59 
 
 remarks upon our general argument. Prayer is the 
 source and secret of the strength in which the Christian 
 must cope with the duties and difficulties of life. And 
 one most obvious danger besetting the constantly- 
 repeated prayers of persons in active life, is formality. 
 Such persons, while too conscientious to abandon the 
 habit of stated prayer, soon find that there is every 
 temptation to satisfy the conscience with the attentive 
 repetition of a form, which takes no hold of the mind, 
 and exerts no moral or spiritual influence on the 
 temper. Every real Christian is well aware that thus 
 to reduce prayer to a form, is to drain away from the 
 exercise all its virtue, until it becomes a broken vessel, 
 empty of power and comfort. But how to prevent, 
 even with the best disposed, its lapsing into a form 1 
 The thing is by no means easy, or to be accomplished 
 without effort. This is just one of those struggles 
 which beset real Personal Religion, and which baffle 
 and often make sad the Christian who cannot acquiesce 
 in mere respectability, and feels that God has called 
 him to saintliness. The design of this treatise being 
 to aff'ord help and counsel to such persons, and to lead 
 them gradually onward, let me recommend that special 
 attention be paid to the beginning and end of stated 
 prayers. " Before thou pray est," says the wise man, 
 " prepare thyself." Let the mind, as much as may be, 
 be solemnized, calmed, toned down, by taking in the 
 thought of the presence of God, and the sublime idea 
 of coming to Him. It has been our purpose in this 
 Chapter to indicate the path along which the mind 
 may travel with interest and profit on such an occasion. 
 Endeavour to recall these thoughts, or such as these, 
 with a secret aspiration that by grace you may be 
 enabled to realize them. Lift iip the mind gradually, 
 
60 Of the Magnificence of Prayer, dx. [part 
 
 and by stages, to some apprehension, however dim and 
 unworthy, of the majesty, the might, the wisdom, the 
 holiness, the love of God ; and when, to use the 
 Psalmist's expression, " the fire kindles, then speak 
 with your tongue." The ready excuse for not com- 
 plying with this advice, which springs to every lip, is 
 " Time ; the sort of prayer you describe asks time ; 
 and my occupations drive me into a corner for time." 
 To which the answer is two-fold ; first, that time might 
 probably be gained by a very little of that self-disci- 
 pline, which surely no man should grudge to bestow 
 on the work of his salvation. Let conscience answer 
 whether, despite all this pressure of occupation, time is 
 not continually made for engagements of an agreeable 
 nature? and if made for them, why not for more 
 serious engagements ? Secondly ; that as in other 
 things, so in prayer, — a little done well is vastly better 
 than more done superficially. Let it be remembered 
 too, that both the precept and the model which Our 
 Lord has given us, rather discountenance long prayers. 
 We are expressly counselled by Him against using vain 
 repetitions, and thinking that we shall be heard for our 
 much speaking, while the compression of thought and 
 brevity of the Lord's Prayer is such, as to make it 
 desirable that the petitioner should pause a little upon 
 each clause, and slightly expand for himself the mean- 
 ing, as he goes along. 
 
 The end of stated Prayers should also be made the 
 subject of some attention and care. It is surprising 
 how little this principle has been recognized in books 
 of devotion. In manuals of preparation for the Holy 
 Communion, for example, how little emphasis is laid, 
 as a general rule, on the regulation of the heart and 
 conduct, subsequently to the Ordinance ! The natural 
 
II.] Of the Twofold Aspect of Prayer^ dr. 61 
 
 recoil from the strain which real prayer always puts 
 upon the mind is levity. Against this levity the devout 
 man should watch and strive. When we have with- 
 drawn into ourselves for awhile for Communion with 
 God, the glare of the world should be let in gradually 
 on the mind again, as an oculist opens the shutters by 
 degrees upon his restored patient. The impression of 
 having had an interview with the King of kings, amid 
 the ministries of Cherubim and Seraphim should not be 
 rudely tossed off, but gently and thoughtfully cher- 
 ished. And it shall be as a nosegay of fresh flowers, 
 which a man gathers before he leaves some fair and 
 quiet garden, a refreshment amidst the dust and tur- 
 moil of earthly pursuits. 
 
 Make experiment of this advice, remembering that in 
 spiritual, as in intellectual discipline, early efforts are for 
 the most part clumsy failures, and that repeated trials 
 are the uniform condition of success ; and you shall 
 find, under the blessing of God, that your prayers will 
 grow in life and interest, and will give that bright and 
 happy tone to the mind, without which no one ever 
 encountered successfully the duties and temptations of 
 active life. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 OF THE TWOFOLD ASPECT OF PRAYER, AND THE NE- 
 CESSITY OF PRACTISING IT IN BOTH ASPECTS. 
 
 " Zd my prayer he set forth before thee as incense : and the 
 lifting up of my hands as the evening sacrifice."— Fsalm 
 csli. 2. 
 
 It is observable that our Blessed Lord, in His Sermon 
 on the Mount, takes up the subject of prayer twice; 
 
62 Of the Twofold Aspect of Prayer, and the [part 
 
 once in the sixth, and again in a totally different con- 
 nexion, in the seventh chapter of St. Matthew's 
 Gospel. Why, it may be asked, when He was on the 
 subject of prayer in the sixth chapter, did He not then 
 and there exhaust all that was to be said upon it ? It 
 is possible that the answer to this question may be 
 found in the twofold aspect of Prayer, which will form 
 the subject of this Chapter. Prayer is a means of 
 supplying man's necessities ; this is its human aspect 
 its face towards man. Under this aspect our Lord 
 regards it in the seventh chapter, where He gives the 
 consolatory assurance that all our real wants shall be 
 supplied by it : " Ask, and it shall be given you ; seek, 
 and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto 
 you." But Prayer has another quite distinct aspect. 
 It is an act of homage done to the Majesty of God. 
 Accordingly it is to be performed with the utmost re- 
 verence and solemnity; there is to be no babbling in it, 
 no familiar glibness of the tongue, no running of words 
 to waste, but simple, grave, short, sound, well-considered 
 speech. So had King Solomon said long centuries 
 ago : " Be not rash with thy mouth, and let not thine 
 heart be hasty to utter any thing before God : for God 
 is in heaven, and thou upon earth: therefore let thy 
 words be few." And so says One greater and wiser 
 than Solomon, even Christ, " the Power of God, and the 
 Wisdom of God." These are His words in the sixth 
 chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel : " But when ye pray, 
 use not vain repetitions, as the heathen do : for they 
 think that they shall be heard for their much speaking." 
 " Be not ye therefore like unto them." In the same 
 paragraph. He says that the homage is not to be 
 ostentatiously offered, but in the privacy of the closet. 
 Privately as it may be paid, the Father will acknow- 
 
II.] Necessity of inactismg it in both Asj^ects. 63 
 
 ledge it openly. Observe how the promise runs in this 
 section of the Sermon. He says not, " the Father will 
 give you the thing asked for;" for that was not exactly 
 the aspect under which He was then viewing Prayer ; 
 but " He shall reward thee openly," — acknowledge 
 thee as a true worshipper in the face of men and 
 angels. The secret homage of the Saints is to be 
 owned at the Day of Judgment. Their wants are to be 
 supplied in the present life. Both these benefits are 
 the crown and meed of real believing prayer. But they 
 are entirely distinct subjects of thought. 
 
 In our last Chapter we rather looked at Prayer in 
 the former of these two views, as a means of supplying 
 man's wants. We regarded it as a pouring out of the 
 heart with all its felt necessities, trials, and burdens, 
 before God. This it is. But it is something more 
 than this. And unless we hold before the eyes of our 
 minds this second aspect of it, not only will our view- 
 be theoretically incomplete, (which of itself would 
 signify little,) but practical errors will be insinuated 
 into our minds, against which it behoves every devout 
 man to be upon his guard. 
 
 Let us turn, then, to consider this second aspect of 
 Prayer a little more closely. In the passage which 
 stands at the head of this Chapter, the Psalmist very 
 beautifully compares Prayer to the things which indeed 
 were types of it under the Old Dispensation, Incense and 
 Sacrifice. " Let my prayer be set forth in Thy sight as 
 incense, and the lifting up of my hands as the evening 
 sacrifice." With this we connect the words of St. John 
 in the Revelation, — " Jesus Christ hath made us kings 
 and priests unto God and his Father." Every Christian 
 is really and truly a priest, consecrated in Baptism and 
 Confirmation, (not indeed to minister in the congre- 
 
64 Of the Twofold Aspect of Prayer^ and the [pari 
 
 gation, but) to offer up spiritual sacrifices, acceptable 
 to God by Jesus Christ. If it be asked what these 
 sacrifices are, the Scriptural answer w^ould be, — first, 
 our own bodies, which we are bidden by St. Paul to 
 present as " a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, 
 which is our reasonable service :" secondly, our alms- 
 givings, which the same Apostle declares to be "an 
 odour of a sweet smell, a sacrifice acceptable, well- 
 pleasing to God ;" and last, not least, our prayers (in- 
 cluding under this generic term all the exercises of 
 devotion, — confession, intercession, thanksgiving, praise, 
 no less than direct petitions for ourselves). As the 
 ■ fragrant incense-cloud went up from the kindled coal in 
 the censor; as the sweet savour w^ent up from the 
 burnt offering, when it was roast with the fire of the 
 altar ; so true believing Prayer, coming from a kindled 
 heart, rises of necessity to God, and steak into His 
 immediate presence in the Upper Sanctuary. We may 
 complete the imagery by observing that the Altar upon 
 which these sacrifices must be laid, — the only Altar 
 which sanctifieth the gift, and renders it acceptable, — 
 is our Lord Jesus Christ Himself, in the faith of whose 
 meritorious Cross and Eighteousness every prayer and 
 spiritual oblation must be made. 
 
 Now is not the view of Prayer which we have thus 
 sketched out very distinct, and very important in its 
 practical bearings 1 Prayer is designed not only to be 
 serviceable to man, but honourable to God. It is a 
 tax (redounding indeed with unspeakable benefits to 
 the tax-payer, but still it is a tax laid upon our time ; 
 just as almsgiving is a tax laid upon our substance; 
 and if we would render unto God the things that are 
 God's, the tribute-money must be faithfully and punc- 
 tually paid. This indeed is the inner principle and 
 
II.] Necessity of inaciising it in both Aspects, 65 
 
 spirit of the fourth Commandment. God says we must 
 keep a certain portion of our time clear from secular 
 occupations. That time is to be devoted to the ob- 
 servance of His ordinances, and to attendance upon His 
 Worship. It is true we reap priceless blessings from 
 this observance and attendance. But the blessings are 
 not the sole point to be considered. All our time from 
 the cradle to the grave is due to God. Every day is the 
 gift of His mercy through Jesus Christ. Therefore one 
 day in each week, — and, on precisely the same principle, 
 a certain portion of our leisure each day, — must be 
 fenced around from the intrusion of secular cares and 
 secular business, and reserved for devotion, in acknow- 
 ledgment that we hold all from Him. Upon this princij)le 
 the stated private prayers of morning and evening should 
 be offered punctually, as well as under the other view 
 already dwelt upon, that we need something of God, 
 and must go and ask it. Think of yourself before you 
 kneel down, not simply as a suppliant for help, but as 
 a priest addressing himself to offer sacrifice and to burn 
 incense. The time of the morning or evening oblation 
 is come ; the Altar is ready ; the incense is at hand ; 
 the sacerdotal robe of Christ's Eighteousness waits to 
 be put on ; array thyself in it, and go into the sanc- 
 tuary of thy heart, and do the priestly ministration. 
 
 Now let us consider of what practical service these 
 reflections may be to us, in resisting those temptations, 
 and overcoming those difficulties which beset all earnest 
 Prayer. 
 
 Prayer, like ftiith (of which it is the voice and 
 expression), is a thing perfectly simple in idea, but 
 exceedingly difficult of execution. If you can pray 
 aright, you have mastered the great secret of the 
 spiritual life; but easy as it is to understand theo- 
 
66 Of the Twofold Asjpeci of Prayer^ and the [paut 
 
 retically what right prayer is, it is far from easy to 
 practise it. The difficulties, if traced to their origin, 
 arise, no doubt, very much from the fact that our 
 adversary the Devil is fully aware of the power of real 
 prayer, and therefore sets in operation all his devices to 
 harass, distract, and disquiet every earnest petitioner. 
 So long as a man's prayers are dead and lifeless exer- 
 cises, and act as an opiate to the conscience, without 
 exercising any sanctifying influence on the character, 
 of course it meets with no opposition from this quarter ; 
 but let it once pass out of the domain of form into that 
 of real communion with God, and it is sure of dis- 
 turbance in one shape or another, — sure of falling far 
 below the mark which the petitioner sets before him. 
 Consider what perfect trifles to the Christian even the 
 worst trials of life would become, and with what ease 
 the most formidable temptations would be mastered, if 
 Prayer always opened to him the gate of Heaven, as 
 perhaps it has seemed to do on some favoured days ; as 
 it might do always, if there were not certain disturbing 
 influences, constantly drawing it down, as with the 
 force of gravitation, to a lower level. One of the 
 earliest of these disturbing influences, of which the 
 awakened soul becomes conscious, is the temptation to 
 leave oflT, when the exercise promises to be dry and 
 barren, and when the mind is much harassed by dis- 
 tractions. When we fail to derive from Prayer comfort 
 and satisfaction, we become cowards, and run away 
 from the faldstool. We give up the attempt, because 
 it meets with discouragement at the outset. Now this, 
 like most other defects of practice, is traceable ulti- 
 mately to an error of principle. We have forgotten 
 that Prayer (I am now speaking of stated Prayer) 
 is an act of homage to Almighty God; we regard it 
 
II.] Necessity of practising it in both Asjjects. 67 
 
 simply in its bearing on the spiritual welfare of man, — 
 on his inward peace, light, strength, and comfort. We 
 become utilitarians as to Prayer, and secretly think 
 that where no sensible benefit is derived from it, it 
 need not be pursued any further. And if Prayer were 
 only valuable for its effect upon the mind of man, — if 
 it had no higher significance than this, — the reasoning 
 would be just. But if Prayer be truly a sacrificial act, 
 an act of ministry on the part of the Christian, a 
 homage rendered to the Majesty of Heaven, then to 
 abandon it in disgust, because it cannot be performed 
 with entire comfort and satisfaction to our own minds, 
 instead of being regarded as a recognition of the spir- 
 ituality of prayer (which is the light we are apt to 
 view it in), ought to be regarded as a dereliction of 
 duty. It is a peevish indulgence of self, by which God 
 is robbed of His incense. — Nay, — let the rule invaria- 
 bly be this : ivhere you cannot pray as you ivould, pray 
 as you can. It was the quaint but excellent saying of 
 an old saint, that a man should deal with distractions in 
 Prayer as he would deal with dogs, who run out and 
 bark at him when he goes along the street, — walk on 
 fast and straightforward, and take no notice of them. 
 Persevere in presenting yourself to God durmg the 
 period for which the Prayer ought to last, and would 
 last under happier circumstances. He loves to draw 
 out perseverance in prayer, loves the indication thus 
 given that, amidst all discouragements, the soul clings 
 obstinately to Himself; and very early in the world's 
 history He signified His approval of this temper of 
 mind by rewarding and crowning, as He did, Jacob's 
 struggle with the Jehovah- Angel. Soniething obscure 
 and mysterious will always hang over that passage of 
 Old Testament history. But we cannot err in regard* 
 
68 Of the Twofold Aspect of Prayer^ and the [paet 
 
 ing the Patriarch's words, " I will not let thee go, ex- 
 cept thou bless me," as designed to teach us a lesson 
 of perseverance and resolute determination in our inter- 
 course with God, amidst all the difficulties by which 
 earnest Prayer is beset. 
 
 It must be remembered that this quiet resolute pa- 
 tience, even amidst the disorders and distractions of 
 our own spirit, is probably the most acceptable offer- 
 ing which can be made to the Most High. It is an easy 
 thing to pray, when our prayer soars to Heaven on 
 the wings of a warm emotion, and when the Holy Spirit, 
 like a favouring gale, seems to swell the sails which 
 the mind spreads to catch His blessed influence. Pray- 
 er is then a matter of feeling rather than of principle. 
 But when we have to woo the gale, and yet the gale 
 comes not, when the vessel has constantly to be set on 
 different tacks, and yet seems to make little or no way 
 towards the shore, it is then that our fidelity in paying 
 our homage to God is-^tested and approved. And let 
 us be sure that it will not be long tested and approved, 
 before it is rewarded. We shall not long wait on the 
 Lord, without renewing our strength. We shall not 
 long persevere in asking, amid repulses, before He will 
 turn and open to us the treasury of His bounty, and 
 say to us, as to the Syrophoenician of old, " Great is 
 thy fliith ; be it unto thee even as thou wilt." Yet if 
 the blessing come not in the shape of sensible comfort, 
 resign thy will to God's Will, and that resignation it- 
 self shall be an acceptable sacrifice.. Thou worshippest 
 Him not for the mere comfort of worshipping Him, but 
 because He is infinitely worthy of homage from every 
 knee and lip. " How many courtiers be there," says 
 an excellent writer on devotion, " that go an hundred 
 times a year into the prince's chamber, without hope of 
 
n.] Necessity of practising it in loth As2yects. 69 
 
 once speaking with him, bnt only to be seen of him. 
 So must we, my dear Philothea, come to the exercise 
 of Prayer purely and merely to do our duty, and to 
 testify our fidelity. If it please His Divine Majesty to 
 speak, and discourse with us by His holy inspirations 
 and interior consolations, it will be doubtless an inesti- 
 mable honor to us, and a pleasure above all pleasures ; 
 but if it please Him not to do us this favour, leaving us 
 without so much as speaking to us, as if He saw us not, 
 or as if we were not in His Presence, we must not for 
 all that go our way, but continue with decent and de- 
 vout behaviour in the Presence of His Sovereign Good- 
 ness ; and then infallibly our patience will be acceptable 
 to Him, and He will take notice of our diligence and 
 perseverance ; so that another time, when we shall come 
 before him. He will favour us, and pass His time w^ith 
 us in heavenly consolations, and make us see the beau- 
 ty of holy Prayer ^" 
 
 We have been exhibiting Prayer under its aspect 
 of homage, — the aspect in which it has reference to 
 God's glory rather than man's w^ants. We are confi- 
 dent that by many excellent and devout people this 
 aspect of it is altogether dropped out of sight. And 
 we are sure also that this defective view leads frequent- 
 ly to a degenerate style of prayer. Robbed of its char- 
 acter of homage, prayer soon becomes an entirely selfish 
 thing ; and the petitioner, when engaged in it, soon comes 
 to regard every thing as beside the mark, which has no 
 reference to his own immediate necessities. It is very 
 desirable to redeem prayer from this exclusively selfish \ 
 character ; to give it a wider scope and a grander bearing ; 
 and the keeping in mind what has been said of it as an act 
 
 * S. Francois de Sales, Introduction k la Vie devote. 
 
70 Of the Twofold Aspect of Prayer^ and the [paPwT 
 
 of homage and priestly service will perhaps help us in 
 achieving this desirable end. But definite practical rules 
 may be given, which will not be long acted upon, with- 
 out giving a better tone to our devotions. There are 
 parts of Prayer which cannot be selfish, which directly 
 seek either the interests of others, or the glory of God ; 
 — see that these parts be not absent from your prayers. 
 First ; intercede for others, and acquire the habit 
 of interceding. Consider their wants, trials, and diffi- 
 culties, and bear them upon your heart, as you bear 
 your own, before the Throne of Grace. Intercession is 
 a priestly service. Christ, the great High Priest, inter- 
 cedes for us all above. And we, if we would prove 
 ourselves members of God's Royal Priesthood upon 
 earth, and perform with fidelity those spiritual sacrifices 
 which we were consecrated in Baptism to present, must 
 intercede for others. It is truly lamentable to think 
 how defective in this point of view are the devotions 
 of the best Christians, — how thoroughly well content 
 they are that the half-hour daily spent in intercourse 
 with God, should be devoted entirely to their own strug- 
 gles, their own trials, their own wants. So little pro- 
 ficient are they in Charity, and so little — so very little 
 — can they realize the constant " our " and " us " of the 
 Lord's Prayer, — whereby Christ teaches us, in a way 
 more emphatic than many sermons, that we should pray 
 as members of a family, — with the wants, sins, tempta- 
 tions, burdens of the whole family continually upon our 
 hearts. Until we can in some measure do this, we do 
 not pray after the Lord's model. 
 
 Secondly ; let Praise — I say not merely thanksgiving, 
 but Praise — always* form an iilgredient of thy prayers. 
 We thank God for what He is to us ; for the benefits 
 which He confers, and the blessings with which He 
 
II.] Necessity of practisijig it in both Asj^ecis. 71 
 
 visits us. But we praise Him for what He is in Him- 
 self, — for His glorious excellences and perfections, in- 
 dependently of their bearing on the welfare of the 
 creature. In Praise the thought of self vanishes from, 
 and is extinguished in, the mind ; and therefore to be 
 large and fervent in Praise counteracts the natural 
 tendency to selfishness which is found in mere Prayer. 
 
 Think not, O man, whosoever thou art, that God 
 will dispense with this tribute of Praise from thee! 
 Remember that, merely as a man, thou art the High 
 Priest of all creation, a little miniature of the Universe 
 in thyself, representing the Angels in virtue of thy 
 immortal spirit, the lower creatures in virtue of thy 
 sensations and appetites, and matter in virtue of thy 
 body. Thus, when thou singest praise, all Creation (in 
 a manner) sings in thee and with thee. 
 
 And it shall often happen that when thy heart is 
 numb and torpid, and yields not to the action of 
 Prayer, it shall begin to thaw, and at last burst, like 
 streams under the breath of spring, from its icy prison, 
 with the warm and genial exercise of Praise. The 
 deadness, the distractions thou deplorest, shall flee 
 away as the harp is taken down from the willow, and 
 strung to celebrate the Divine perfections. For how 
 much is there to kindle the heart in the very thought 
 of Praise! Praise is the religious exercisee — the on 
 religious exercise — of Heaven. Angels are offering it 
 ceaselessly, resting not night or day. Saints are offer- 
 ing it ceaselessly in Paradise. Nature in her every 
 district is offering it ceaselessly. From the Heavens, 
 which declare the glory of God, and the firmament, 
 which showeth His handiwork, down to tlie dewdrop 
 which sparkles with the colours of the rainbow, and 
 the lark, who tunes her cheerful carol as she salutes 
 
72 The Secret of Success in Prayer. [paet 
 
 the rising sun, the whole Creation sends up one grand 
 chorus of Praise to the Throne of God. Thou shalt 
 feel that thou art not alone in offering it, that every 
 act of true praise is social, and, as it were, choral, 
 though offered in solitude. " All saints far on earth, 
 and in Paradise, feel without knowing it the impulse 
 of each other's adoration, and join in with it, like 
 strings that vibrate to the same tone, without touching 
 each other'^." And the sense of sympathy in the exer- 
 cise shall kindle life in thee, and the soul shall recover 
 its benumbed energies, and Prayer shall be no more a 
 painful wrestling with thy own mind, but a solace, and 
 a strength, and a light, and a healing. - 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE SECEET OF SUCCESS IN PEAYEE. 
 
 " And in the morning as they passed by, they saw the fig-tree 
 dried up from the roots. And Feter calling to remembrance 
 saith unto him, Master, behold, the fig-tree which thou cursedst is 
 withered away. And Jesus answering saith wnto them, Have 
 faith in God. For verily I say unto you. That whosoever shall 
 say unto this mountain, Be thou removed, and be thou cast into the 
 sea : and shall not doubt in his heart, but shall believe that those 
 things which he saith shall come to pass ; he shall have whatsoever 
 he saith.''— Mark xi. 20—23. 
 
 It is very observable that the remarks which Our 
 Blessed Lord makes on the incidents presented to Him, 
 and His comments on the sayings which were dropped 
 
 2 Rev. Charles Mamott, Thoughts on Private Devotion. 
 
n."| The Secret of Success in Prayer. 73 
 
 in His presence, do not at all meet our natural antici- 
 pations of what the occasion required. Merely human 
 comments on what is said or done in society are almost 
 always obvious; and they are so because they are 
 shallow, caught up rapidly from the surface of the 
 subject, and flung abroad at random upon the appre- 
 hension of the hearers. But infinite wisdom — and our 
 Lord is the Infinite Wisdom personified — explores the 
 depths of every subject which is brought before it, and 
 dives into the heart of every speaker, and answers not 
 according to tHe superficial bearing of the subject, not 
 according to the literal expression of the lips, but 
 according to the hidden harmony, which it requires 
 thought and prayer to bring to light, and according to 
 the intent of the heart. 
 
 As an illustration of this, take the words w^hich 
 stand at the head of this Chapter, with the circum- 
 stances which gave rise to them. Our Lord on finding 
 a fig-tree barren, which had made a great show of 
 leaves, had pronounced on it a solemn curse. In con- 
 sequence of the curse the fig-tree had withered. The 
 disciples seeing it dried up from the roots, call the 
 attention of their Master to the fact. And He replies, 
 " Have faith in God," — and so forth. 
 
 Now, the question is. What remark would a mere 
 wise man, — one wiser than his fellows, if you will, but 
 still a mere man, — have made under such circum- 
 stances? Supposing we ourselves were great teachers 
 of moral truth ; — what comment would have risen to 
 our lips on having our attention called to the sere and 
 blighted tree ? Possibly we might have drawn from 
 the circumstances its obvious moral—thus : " That fig- 
 tree is the Jewish nation. Its show of leaves is the 
 profession which they make of godliness — ' We are 
 4 
 
74 The Secret of Success in Prayer. [part 
 
 instructors of the foolish ; lights of them that sit in 
 darkness ; guides of the blind ; teachers of the babes,' 
 &c. Its want of fruit is their spiritual barrenness, — 
 their want of practice, while they have so much pro- 
 fession. Its present withered state foreshows their 
 future doom, — which is to stand a blighted monument 
 of wrath on God's highway." But whatever our com- 
 ment on the occasion might -have been, this, I think, is 
 certain, that it would not have been, " Have faith in 
 God." That is not obvious enough. We know that it 
 must be exactly to the point, the precise word for the 
 occasion, — because the Infinite Wisdom said it, — but 
 it requires a great deal of consideration to see how it is 
 to the point. Faith, and prayer, and forgiveness, are, 
 no doubt, matters of vast importance ; but what have 
 they to do, how are they connected with, the cursing 
 and withering of a fig-tree 1 On the surface we can 
 trace no connexion whatever. And we conclude that 
 we must dive beneath the surface by meditation, and 
 prayer for the Light of God's Spirit, if we would catch 
 the silver tliread, on which are strung these beautiful 
 diamonds of holy instruction. 
 
 The outline of the connexion is probably this : — 
 St. Peter's expression was, " Master, behold the fig- 
 tree which thou cursedst is withered away." — That 
 was his language. What was the thought- of his heart 
 which spoke itself out in that language 1 Probably of 
 this kind. " What words of power are thine, O Master ! 
 Thou spakest yesterday a few simple words, ' No fruit 
 grow on thee hereafter for ever.' Thou spakest them 
 quietly, as thou ever speakest. No immediate sign 
 followed. The earth did not tremble, at thine utter- 
 ance. The vault of heaven did not echo it back in 
 thunder. All things seemed unchanged around us. 
 
II.] The Secret of Success in Prayer. 75 
 
 The insect hummed upon his way in the morning sun, 
 and the waggoner trolled his song, as he drove past us 
 with his market stores — and we dropped the word out 
 of our memory. But it has not fallen to the earth. 
 Fallen to the earth ! no, it was a power-word. No 
 sooner said than done. The word sped to its accom- 
 plishment, as an arrow speeds to the mark. The 
 imprecation yesterday; — to-day, in visible and due 
 development, the blight! — '^Behold! the fig-tree that" 
 thou cursedst is withered away.' " " And Jesus an- 
 swering, said unto them" — possibly, as if to answer 
 his thoughts, He fixed His wonderful eye upon the 
 speaker, in the assurance that He explored his inmost 
 soul—" Have faith in 'God." As if He had said, " My 
 words are power-words indeed. They take effect — 
 immediate effect. They are not spoken in the air ; 
 they achieve something. Little children, ye shall be 
 as your Master. I will teach you to speak power-words 
 like mine. Your prayers for good shall speed to their 
 accomplishment, as surely and as fast as my prayer for 
 evil upon the fig-tree. Ask, and ye shall have. Ask- 
 ing and having shall be linked together as c*losely as 
 the cursing and the withering of the fig-tree, — if only 
 ye will ask in faith,: — if only, on the ground of God's 
 promise made to prayer, you will believe, while ye ask, 
 that you receive the object of your petitions. This and\ 
 another condition — that you forgive injuries, — that }ou| 
 pray in love as well as in faith, — this shall ensure the 
 success of your Prayers. You, like your Heavenly 
 Father, shall speak, and it shall be done — you, like 
 Him, shall command, and it shall stand fast." 
 
 Such is the connexion of thought between our Lord's 
 words, and the occasion which gave rise to them. Let 
 us now learn from them the secret of successful prayer. 
 
76 The Secret of Success in Prayer. [paet 
 
 Prayer is, without doubt, the great means of advance 
 in Personal Religion and the spiritual life. But it is 
 surprising, and most disheartening, how very little pro- 
 portion the progress of religious persons bears to their 
 prayers. Were the prayers formal, — that is, were they 
 said without seriousness and attention, and without any 
 corresponding effort to amend the life, of course the 
 account of this barrenness would be obvious. But this 
 is by no means the case. The petitioner, in the case 
 which we are supposing, seriously and earnestly desires 
 spiritual blessings. He gives serious and close atten- 
 tion to the words which he employs in prayer. He 
 strives to realize, when he employs them, the awful 
 Presence of God. Yet somehow or other the prayer is 
 not so successful as it should be. It may calm his 
 mind, quiet his spirit, spread a general sensation of 
 happiness over his soul ; these are what I may call the 
 natural influences of Prayer ; but it does not seem that 
 he is substantially the better for it. There is a great 
 mass of Prayer, and very little sensible improvement, — 
 very little growth in grace. Years roll on ; and his 
 character is still very stagnant in any spiritual view of 
 it ; excellent, upright, and devout as far a§ man can 
 mark, he has not made much progress in Divine things. 
 The many, many words of Prayer seem spoken in the 
 air ; they are sent forth into the vast world of spirits, 
 like Noah's raven from the ark, never to return again. 
 
 Is this true as a general description, if not to the 
 full extent, of any one who reads these lines 1 Then 
 let me invite such a person to consider the secret of 
 successful Prayer, as explained by our Lord Himself. 
 May it not be that your words are not words of power, 
 because they are not words of Faith 1 You pray rather 
 as a duty, than in the definite expectation of any thing 
 
II,] The Secret of Success in Prayer. 77 
 
 to be gained by it. You pray attentively, seriously, 
 devoutly ; and you go your way with a feeling of satis- 
 faction that you have done well upon the whole, and 
 there the matter ends. In the ancient augury by birds, 
 as soon as the augur had made the preliminary arrange- 
 ments, — covered his head, marked out the heavens with 
 his staff, and uttered his prayer, — he stayed on the spot, 
 watching for the first appearance of the birds, — he was 
 on the look out for the result. But this is just what 
 many Christians fail to do in regard of their prayers ; 
 they have no expectation of being benefited by them ; 
 they do not look for the blessing to which, in virtue 
 of God's promise in Christ Jesus, the prayer entitles 
 them. If, some day, after praying for the Light of 
 God's Spirit, they were to find in the study of His 
 Word a wonderful clearing up of things which had been 
 dark before, and a lucid apprehension of Divine Truth, 
 they would be inwardly surprised, from the mental habit 
 of disconnecting Prayer with its effect, and would say, 
 '* What do I owe this to ? " Now what would this 
 surprise argue? What does the want of expectation 
 that good will result to us from our prayers prove 
 respecting our state of mind 1 Surely that we have no 
 definite belief that the blessing will be granted, — in a 
 word, no faith in God's promise, which connects Prayer 
 with the answer to Prayer, — the word with the power. 
 The Scriptures lead us to suppose that there is no 
 height of holiness to which, in the might of God's 
 Spirit, we cannot attain. There is no reason why we 
 should not be so full of love and zeal, — why our souls 
 should not be so penetrated at all times with a sense of 
 Christ's Love and Presence, that we should breathe 
 habitually the element of praise, and that every meal 
 should become a Sacrament. I say there is no reason, 
 
78 The Secret of Success in Prayer. [paet 
 
 except such as resides in ourselves. And the difficulties 
 which reside in ourselves, and result from our corrupt 
 nature, hard heart, stubborn will, and so forth, the 
 Spirit of God has overcome in numberless instances of 
 saints of old, and maij overcome in us. " Is the Lord's 
 arm shortened, that it cannot save ; or his ear heavy, 
 that it cannot hear f " The power that worketh in 
 us " is, as we read, " able to do exceeding abundantly 
 above all that we ask or think." This is admitted in 
 theory by all. But now, when we come to pray, and 
 to set before us this high standard of holiness as an 
 object of ambition, a subtle unbelief rises and spreads 
 like leaven in the heart. We have no notion (the 
 truth had better be told candidly) that God either 
 will or can make us eminent saints. Perhaps He may 
 help us a little to overcome this evil temper, to rid 
 ourselves of that bad habit, and may make us, very 
 gradually indeed, fair average Christians ; but as for 
 any great progress, any high pinnacle of virtue, that is 
 out of the question with our temptations and under our 
 circumstances. We have not leisure enough. We 
 have not time enough for prayer ; and we cannot get 
 time. Our passions are strong and in their heyday. 
 The least cross turn of things in the day upsets our 
 temper. We are men hurried with engagements, all 
 hot with a thousand secular interests ; or we have a 
 mighty passion for human praise and the laurels of 
 earthly distinction ; you cannot make saints out of 
 that material. It is an impossibility. You might as 
 well advance to the brink of one of the lakes that lie 
 embosomed in Alpine scenery, and command the 
 enormous granite mountains that tower above you to 
 descend and cast themselves into the sea. They would 
 not answer you. There would be neither voice nor 
 
 J 
 
II.] The Secret of Success in Prayer. 79 
 
 hearing. And the evil tempers and corrupt inclinations 
 will not answer us, when in the might of Prayer we 
 command them to come out. Something like this is 
 too often the secret process of our hearts, when we 
 kneel down to pray. Now I am not going to plead for 
 a fanatical view of answers to Prayer. I have no great 
 faith in sudden revolutions of feeling, or instantaneous 
 conversions. I know full well that growth in Grace, as 
 in Nature, may be so rapid as to be unhealthily rapid, 
 as to indicate shallowness and want' of depth. But 
 one thing I do believe, — to disbelieve w^iich were the 
 most unreasonable of all follies, — to believe which is 
 the dictate of the calmest, soberest, purest, highest 
 reason. One thing I do believe, — more surely than 
 the evidence of the senses, for they may be imposed 
 upon; — more surely than those self-evident axioms, 
 upon which mathematical truth is built, for those 
 axioms are only spun out of the human mind, and 
 not external to it. I do believe that God is true. I 
 do believe that whenever God makes a promise. He 
 will assuredly fulfil it. I do believe that if you or I 
 come under the terms of the promise. He will fulfil it 
 to us. I see that He has promised the Holy Spirit to 
 them that ask Him ; and it were blasphemous not to 
 believe that the Holy Spirit is able to surmount any 
 and every difficulty. 
 
 Therefore if I have ever secretly reasoned as above, 
 if such has ever been the secret process of my heart, 1 
 stand convicted of unbelief. It is no marvel that God 
 has withheld the blessing, if I so dishonoured Him in 
 my heart as never seriously to believe that He could or 
 would bestow it. And, in future, if I would meet with 
 success, I must come to the Throne of Grace with an 
 undouhtbig 7nind. Having launched ray petition into 
 
80 The Secret of Success in Prayer. [paet 
 
 the world of spirits, I must stand (like good Habak- 
 kuk) upon the watch, and set me upon the tower, and 
 must watch to see what He will say to me. Having 
 prayed " Show me a token for good," I must wait, like 
 the augurs, looking up to Heaven until the token comes. 
 I must in the depth of my inmost heart expect to re- 
 ceive what I ask for.* And then if, besides this, my 
 prayer be a prayer of Love, — if, while I breathe it, my 
 heart goes forth on an errand of forgiveness towards 
 the man who has thwarted or striven to injure me, — 
 then the answer cannot long tarry. The prayer-word 
 must in that case be a power-word. The effect must 
 be in that case as surely linked to the. petition as the 
 blighting of the fig-tree was linked to the Saviour's 
 malediction. " Through it tarry, wait for it ; because 
 it will surely come, it will not tarry." 
 
 Before concluding this Chapter, we will give one 
 simple piece of advice, by way of rendering more prac- 
 tical what has been said. 
 
 Strive to acquire the habit of asking definitely for 
 particular graces of which you stand in need, and of 
 expecting a definite result. For example ; what point 
 of character was it in which you found yourself most 
 deficient in the examination which preceded your last 
 Communion % Until the next Communion comes round, 
 let that particular grace, whether it was purity, or hu- 
 mility, or patience, or zeal, or love, be made the sub- 
 ject of a distinct petition in your prayers. Do not for- 
 get the petition ; always have it in your mind's eye ; 
 try to expect the result, — to assure yourself, on grounds 
 
 * " My voice shalt Thou hear betimes, Lord ; early in the 
 morning will I direct my prayer unto Thee and will look upj'' i.Ct 
 OS a watchman^ according to the Hebrew. 
 
ri.] . The Secret of Success in Prayer, 81 
 
 of simple reason, that, as you have sown, so you will, 
 in due season, reap. 
 
 Some may ask, and it is well that they should have 
 a distinct and unequivocal answer, — "Where is my 
 warrant for believing thaf?" There are many war- 
 rants. We will take that which seems least capable of 
 being evaded. It occurs in Luke xi. 13. Read it over 
 before you make your daily petition, and remember 
 that, whatever else may be false, this must be true. 
 
 " If ye then, being evil, know how to give good 
 
 GIFTS unto your CHILDREN; HOW MUCH MORE SHALL 
 YOUR HEAVENLY FatHER G;VE THE HoLY SpiRIT TO THEM 
 
 THAT ASK Him 1 " 
 
 It will be admitted that if, after saying that^ God 
 were to withhold the Holy Spirit from those that ask 
 Him, He would be raising expectations which would 
 be disappointed, — a thing plainly abhorrent to His 
 character. ♦I must also call particular attention to the 
 fact, that the one only condition which this promise 
 contemplates, in the persons to whom it is addressed, 
 — is the asking. If you ask, then, clearly and beyond 
 the shadow of a doubt, you are entitled to receive. 
 You may be very sinful at present, very weak, very 
 different in many respects from what you wish to be ; 
 that is all beside the mark. The terms of the promise 
 under which you must come, if you desire its fulfilment, 
 are not that you shall be holy, but onhj that you shall 
 he an asJcer. 
 
 Glorious promise ! so sublime ! " If ye, being evil, 
 know how to give good gifts to your children " (why, 
 vve know that the tenderness and love of human parents 
 is proverbial) : " how much more shall your heavenly 
 Father give " — Give what ? Health, and freedom from 
 pain, and a sound mind in a sound body ? Good things 
 4* 
 
82 The Secret of Success in Prayer. [part 
 
 these ; but He will give something better. What then 1 
 Long life, and many days ? Ah ! it might be only a 
 grief of heart to thee ; — no, something better. Large 
 store of silver and gold, flocks and herds, and great 
 worldly well-being ? — Ah ! the canker of self-indulgence- 
 might convert it all into a curse ; no, something better. 
 Lofty distinction, high posts, crowns, and empires, and 
 a great name, — all the kingdoms of the world and the 
 glory of them % Nay, better, much better. " The 
 Holy Spirit," to be the soul of thy soul, to new-create 
 thy moral nature in the Lnage of God, to dwell in thee 
 and walk in thee, making thy heart His shrine ; a pres- 
 ent stream of joy, and strength, and consolation, spring- 
 ing up into everlasting life ; — " how much more shall 
 your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them 
 that ask Him *? " Glorious promise ! so free ! Free as 
 the air of heaven to those who will but come forth and 
 breathe it. Free as the rivers of the earth to those 
 who will but dip a cup in them, and slake their thirst. 
 Then come forthwith, and claim this mighty Boon. 
 Come with strong desire. Let the heart speak, rather 
 than the mouth. Come in stedfast faith, fastening the 
 whole soul upon that solemn asseveration, — *' Yea, let 
 God be true, and every man a liar ! " And lo ! your 
 word is a word of power. It has unlocked Heaven. 
 Before you call, He answers ; and while you are yet 
 speaking. He hears. 
 
II.] Of Self -Examination, - 93 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 OF SELF-EXAMINATION. 
 
 ** And the Lord sent Nathan unto David. And he came unto him^ 
 and saidunto him, There were two men in one city: the one rich} 
 and the other poor. The rich man had exceeding many flocks 
 and herds ; hut the poor man had nothing, save one little ewe 
 lamb, which he had bought and nourished up : and it grew up 
 together with him, and with his children : it did eat of his own 
 meat, and drank of his own cxip, and lay in his bosom, and was 
 unto him as a daughter. And there came a traveller unto the 
 rich man, and he spared to take of his own flock, and of his own 
 herd, to dress for the waxjfaring man that was come unto him : 
 but took the poor man's lamb, and dressed it for the man that 
 was come ^(,nto him. And David^s anger was greatly kindled 
 against the man ; and he said to Nathan, As the Lord liveth, the 
 manthat hath done this thing shall surely die: and he shall restore 
 the lamb fourfold, because he did this thing, and because he had 
 no pity. And Nathan said to David, Thou art the man. — 2 
 Sam. xii. 1 — 1. 
 
 In this striking passage of Holy Scripture we see 
 King David in disguise brought before his own judg- 
 ment seat. His judgment, as chief magistrate of Ms 
 realm, is demanded upon an imaginary case of wanton 
 and cruel oppression, the exact counterpart of that 
 which he had himself committed. David, not recog- 
 nizing himself under the disguise which the prophet 
 'had thrown over him, passes sentence of death and 
 fourfold restitution upon the imaginary offender. No 
 sooner had the sentence gone out of the king's mouth 
 than the prophet unmasks the muffled and mysterious 
 figure which stood at the bar, tears away the disguise, 
 and shows to the astonished king himself: " TIiou art 
 
84 Of Self-Examination [paet 
 
 the man." How came it to pass that David was so 
 incensed with cruelty and oppression in a supposed 
 case, though he had remained so long (since his child 
 was born when Nathan came, to him, it cannot have 
 been much short of a year) insensible to the far more 
 heinous cruelty and oppression of his own conduct? 
 The reason is, ■ of course, that we never judge of our 
 own conduct in any affair, as we do of an abstract 
 case in which we are not ourselves mixed up, and 
 in which our feelings, passions, and prejudices are not 
 interested. Moralists have questioned, and there seems 
 every reason to question, whether a man can do a bad 
 action without justifying it to his own conscience as at 
 least excusable under the circumstances, — or, in other 
 words, whether evil, without a certain colour, pretext, 
 and palliation, can ever be accepted by the human will ; 
 but the colours and pretexts which serve for our own 
 conduct are never available for that of other men. We 
 judge them, as David judged the imaginary offender in 
 the parable, nakedly, truly, and severely enough. 
 
 It is the object of these pages to give some thoughts, 
 which may be practically useful on the subject of Per- 
 sonal Religion, Now the chief devotional exercise 
 which turns Religion into a personal thing, which brings 
 it home to men's business and bosom, is Self-examina- 
 tion. A man's religion cannot well be one of merely 
 good impressions, — the staple of it cannot well be an 
 evaporating sentiment, if he have acquired the habit 
 of honestly and candidly looking within. The subject,' 
 therefore, which we treat to-day, has the closest bearing 
 upon the general argument of the work. 
 
 Self examination may be called an arraignment of 
 ourselves at our own bar, according to that word of our 
 Eucharistic Service : " Judge therefore yourselves, 
 
[I.] Of Self' Examination. 85 
 
 s 
 
 brethren, that ye be not judged of the Lord." It is an 
 exercise most essential to our spiritual health ; and the 
 more earnestly to be pressed on all Protestants, because 
 there exists in the Reformed Churches no security but 
 that of right principle for its ever being practised. In 
 the Roman Chui-ch you are aware it is otherwise. The 
 system of the confessional, with all its evils and abomi- 
 nations, may at least fairly lay claim to the advantage 
 of exacting a certain amount of introspection from those 
 who honestly conform to it. We who have not this 
 check, and among whom the work of probing the con- 
 science with the Word of God is done from the pulpit, 
 must at least see to it that we make such work per- 
 sonal, by applying to ourselves in Self-examination the 
 Sermons which we hear and read. 
 
 It is easy, — fatally easy, — with Self-examination as 
 with Prayer, to allow the exercise to be drawn down 
 from its high moral and spiritual aim to the level of a 
 form. A string of questions put to the conscience 
 every evening before our evening prayer, never varying 
 with the circumstances of the day, turning principally 
 upon outward conduct, and answered almost mechan- 
 ically — this, if the truth must be confessed, is what the 
 Self-examination of devout and well-intentioned people 
 too often reduces itself to. Not that we at all counsel 
 the abandonment of such a practice, where it is done 
 with real seriousness and attention. It is almost a 
 principle of the spiritual life that ground is never 
 gained, always lost, by giving up forms through a dread 
 of formality ; the way to gain ground is to quicken and 
 vitalize the forms. Nightly examination of the con- 
 science is any how a safeguard for the performance of 
 the duty, and a most excellent preparative for evening 
 prayer. But while we continue it, let us strive to 
 
86 Of Self -Examination, [paet 
 
 throw reality and life into it by regarding the great 
 duty on a large, comprehensive, and spiritual scale. 
 
 Consider, first, the necessity for all of us, in respect 
 both of our sins and of our good works, of an exercise 
 like Self examination. This necessity arises from the 
 fact, so distinctly stated in Scripture, that " the heart is 
 deceitful above all things," and that " he that trusteth 
 in his own heart," — in its dictates respecting him- 
 self and his own spiritual condition, — " is a fool." It 
 has pleased God to illustrate this cardinal truth by two 
 grand examples, one in the Old and one in the New 
 Testament. It must have been by trust in the subtle 
 evasions and plausible shifts of his own heart, that 
 David, after committing two of the w^orst crimes of 
 which our nature is capable, so long contrived to keep 
 his conscience quiet, but at length was convicted of the 
 desperate folly of severely condemning in another man 
 the very faults, which, in an infinitely aggravated form, 
 he had been palliating and excusing in himself. And 
 it was by trusting in the assurances which his heart 
 gave him of his own strong attachment to his Master, 
 that St. Peter, secure of himself, was betrayed into the 
 weakness and folly of denying Christ. 
 
 May we say that, while all characters are liable to 
 the snare of self-deception, those are more particularly 
 exposed to it, who, like St. Peter and David, are persons 
 of keen sensibilities, warm temperaments, quick affec- 
 tions ? Probably we may ; for affectionateness of 
 disposition readily commends itself to the conscience as 
 a thing which cannot be WTong, and secretly whispers 
 to one, who is conscious of possessing it, " This gene- 
 rous trait in you will cover and excuse many sins." 
 An acrid, soured character cannot flatter itself that it is 
 right with half the facility of a warm and genial cha- 
 
II.] Of Self -Examination. 87 
 
 racter. A man, who sins by passions the reverse of 
 malignant, is apt to thank God secretly that he is not 
 malignant, totally forgetting that, although not malig- 
 nant, he follows his own impulses as entirely, and so is 
 as purely selfish as the malignant man. 
 
 But how shall we bring home to ourselves the dan- 
 gerousness of trusting, without due examination, to the 
 verdict of our own hearts ? We will do so by sup- 
 posing a parallel case in a matter, where we are all 
 peculiarly apt to be cautious and suspicious, — the goods 
 of this world. Suppose then (and, in a commercial 
 country like this, the supposition has been not unfre- 
 quently realized) that the chief agent in some great 
 speculation is a man, who, though most untrustworthy, 
 has all the art of conciliating trust. Suppose him to 
 be fluent, fair-spoken, prepossessing in manners and 
 appearance, and to be especially plausible in glossing 
 over a financii^l difficulty. Advance one more step in 
 the hypothesis, arid suppose him to be a private friend 
 of many of those who are embarked with him in the 
 same speculation ; allied to some of them by marriage, 
 and more or less, in habits of intimacy with all. If 
 such a person is at the head of affairs, and entrusted 
 with the administration of the funds contributed by all, 
 it is evident that he might impose upon the contrib- 
 utors to almost any extent. His artful representa- 
 tions would quiet their little panics, when such arose; 
 and he would have it in his power to keep them still, 
 Avhile embezzling their resources, until the great crash 
 comes, which announces to many of them, as with a 
 clap of thunder, that they are bankrupts. Now the 
 peril of such trust in worldly matters supplies a very 
 fair image of the peril of a still more foolish and 
 groundless trust in spiritual things. Our hearts are 
 
88 Of Self- Examination, [paet 
 
 notoriously most untrustworthy informants in any case 
 where we are ourselves interested. It is not only 
 Scripture which assevers this. We confess it ourselves, 
 and re-echo the verdict of Scripture, when we say of 
 any slight matter, with which we happen to be mixed 
 up, " I am an interested party, and therefore I had 
 better not be a judge." But while our hearts are thus, 
 by our own confession, untrustworthy, there is no one 
 in whose assertions we habitually place more trust. 
 We think we cannot be deceived respecting ourselves ; 
 we know at all events our own motives and intentions, 
 if we know any thing. The unkind, the insincere, the 
 ungenerous, the ungrateful, never, we think, had any 
 affinity with our nature ; for we have never, as I ob- 
 served above, admitted these forms of evil, without 
 first palliating and disguising them, and making them 
 look respectable to our own consciences. Faults there 
 may have been, no doubt, in our temper and our con- 
 duct; — feelings (and transactions, too) for which we 
 feel that we are in account with God ; but we leave 
 our own heart to manage and superintend the account ; 
 and it soothes us w^ith the assurance that w^e never had 
 any very bad intention, and so the whole affair will 
 turn out well in the end, — we need not fear the ul- 
 timate exposure. Self-love conspires with trust in 
 our own hearts, to make dupes of us as regards our 
 spiritual account. Proverbially, and in the verdict of 
 all experience, love is blind ; and if love be blind, self- 
 love, being the strongest, the most subtle, the most 
 clinging, the most ineradicable of all loves, is blinder 
 still. Self-love will not see, as self-trust cannot see, 
 anything against us. With these strong partialities 
 to self in our own heart ever operative within us, and 
 never probably capable, even in the best men, of being 
 
II.] Of Self-Examination. 89 
 
 entirely detached from us, to what an extent may we 
 be imposed upon, in that which most vitally and nearly 
 concerns us, if we do not from time to time call in and 
 examine the accounts! What frightful arrears may 
 we be running up, unawares to ourselves, if we do not 
 sharply check and suspiciously watch this heart, who 
 administers for us the account between us and God ! 
 And how may this accumulated arrears of guilt burst 
 upon our minds with an overwhelming force when God 
 judges the secrets of men by Jesus Christ according to 
 the Gospel, — when the divine sentence unmasks our 
 sin of those excuses, with which we have been pal- 
 liating it, and brings it home to us with a " Thou art 
 the man !" 
 
 The first step in real self-examination is to be fully 
 aware of the deceitfulness of the heart, and to pray 
 against it, watch against it, and use every possible 
 method of counteracting it. But what means can we 
 use "? We offer a few practical suggestions in answer 
 to this question. 
 
 First ; as regards our acJcnowledged sins. We must 
 remember that their hatefulness, and aggravations, if 
 they Avere publicly confessed, might very probably be 
 recognized by every one but ourselves, the perpetrators. 
 There are certain loathsome diseases, which are offensive 
 and repulsive in the highest degree to every one but 
 the patient. And there is a close analogy between the 
 spiritual frame of man and his natural ; if the moral 
 disease be your own, — rooted in your character, cling- 
 ing to your own heart, it never can affect you with the 
 same disgust as if it were another man's. vEvery step 
 therefore must be taken to stand as clear as may be of 
 the sin, while we sit in judgment upon it. In the 
 first place, in the case of exceptional and grievous sins, 
 
90 Of Self- Examination. [paet 
 
 might not another sometimes be called in to sit in 
 judgment, and so a fairer sentence secured than we are 
 competent to give ourselves ? If there be the moral 
 courage equal to a perfectly candid avowal, — such an 
 avowal as keeps back no aggravating circumstance, — 
 and if an adviser is to be had at once holy, discreet, and 
 considerate, — why should it not be related to such an 
 adviser, that his counsel, prayers, and sympathy may 
 be sought 1 Surely the Scriptural rule has a founda- 
 tion of wisdom ; " Confess your sins one to another, 
 and pray for one another, that ye may be healed." If 
 however we are aware that such an exposure could not 
 be made by us in our present state of moral attainment 
 with perfect integrity, — that we should be casting about 
 in it to regain by palliating touches the forfeited esteem 
 of him, on whom we threw ourselves thus confidentially, 
 — or, in other words, that we are not men enough to 
 make ourselves as vile in the eyes of our fellow- 
 creatures as we are in God's eyes, — then until such 
 moral courage is attained by us, (and surely we may 
 lawfully pray for its attainment,) we must attempt to 
 secure the same end — a fair judgment upon our sin — in 
 another way. To stop short of the whole mischief in 
 confession to a fellow-creature, would only be to deceive 
 him as well as ourselves, and to entangle our con- 
 sciences more effectually in the snares of hypocrisy. 
 We must take another method, and this method will 
 apply to the more usual and common as well as to the 
 grosser sins, of forming an impartial estimate of the 
 evil which is in us. Let us only su2-)pose, by an effort 
 of the imagination, that we confessed it frankly to such 
 and such a person, known for wisdom and goodness, — 
 how would he regard us 1 what is the measure of our 
 sin in his esteem 1 because doubtless that should be 
 
n.] Of Self -Examination. 91 
 
 the measure of it in ours also. Would there not be a 
 shrinking from revealing to such an one, not merely 
 sins of a gross or glaring character, but such as the 
 world calls trifles, — omissions of private prayer, little 
 acts of dishonesty in trade or in respect of an employ- 
 er's property, falsehoods which have slipped from us in 
 the ordinary intercourse of life, impure or sensual 
 thoughts, allusions in conversation which might lead the 
 mind of others in a wrong direction, conceit of accom- 
 plishments and abilities, not merely suggested (for no 
 man is accountable for the suggestions which the Devil 
 makes to him), but secretly fondled and nourished in the 
 chamber of the heart 1 If we shrink from making such 
 disclosures to a wise and good man, tvhy do we shrink ? 
 Because we feel that they would lower us in his esteem, 
 and we have such a regard of man's esteem that we 
 cannot bear to be placed lower in it. If a person to 
 whom we had long given credit for a blameless and 
 pious life should come to us, and confess the very sins 
 to which we ourselves have recently given way, should 
 assure us with evident sincerity that, however good the 
 character he maintained, yet he had lived for such and 
 such days without prayer, had practised or blinked at 
 little dishonesties, or had seriously distorted truth on 
 such and such occasions, we might (and, no doubt, 
 should) sympathize with the distress of mind which the 
 confession evinced, but we could hardly help saying 
 within ourselves, " I should never have expected this 
 from him. I should have thought that he would be 
 true to principle, when the stress of trial came." 
 Then, if this be the estimate which we should form of 
 another, who had committed our sins, should it not be 
 the estimate which we should form of ourselves ? and 
 is not the comparatively lenient view which we take of 
 
92 Of Self -Examination. [PAET 
 
 our own case due to that self-partiality which leavens 
 and vitiates our whole nature % This light in which we 
 see the sin, as it exists in our neighbour, is the true 
 light in which we shall see it at the last day ; and to 
 see it now in that light, while at the same time we be- 
 lieve that the Blood of Christ has entirely cancelled it, 
 is the great end of Self-examination, and the true ful- 
 filment of the precept : " Judge therefore yourselves, 
 brethren, that ye be not judged of the Lord." 
 
 But the probe of Self-examination needs to be ap- 
 plied to the better, as well as to the worse parts of our 
 conduct. The natural heart is an adept in flatteries, 
 not only suggesting excuses for the evil, but also height- 
 ening the colours of the good which, by God's grace, is 
 in us. When conduct stands the test of Self-examin- 
 ation, the motives of it should be called in question. 
 We must do in regard of ourselves what we may never 
 do in regard of others, — suspect that an unsound mo- 
 tive may underlie a fair conduct. It is something to 
 be possessed with the knowledge that our actions take 
 their whole moral colouring from the motives which 
 prompt them. And to apply this knowledge practical- 
 ly to our own good actions, and thus to discriminate 
 what is hollovr and spurious in them from what is gen- 
 uine, is the second branch of the great duty of Self- 
 examination. By way of giving some serviceable hints 
 for this investigation of our motives, it may be brief- 
 ly remarked that of the religious conduct of religious 
 persons a good part is usually due to custom. By al- 
 most all of us, to a certain extent, the Ordinances of 
 religion are attended mechanically, without repulsion 
 on the one hand, but at the same time without any 
 effort or definite aim on the other. Again; certain 
 proprieties and regularities of behavior, whether devo- 
 
n.] Of Self-JExamination. 03 
 
 tional or moral, are secured by deference to the prevail- 
 ing opinions and habits of society, as is shown some- 
 times by the fact that, when we are m foreign parts, 
 and no longer under this restraint, those proprieties and 
 regularities are not so carefully maintained. Again ; 
 many good actions are done, more or less, because they 
 are in keeping with a man's position, conciliate credit 
 to him, gain him the praise of others. Again ; works 
 of usefulness and social (and even religious) improve- 
 ment may be undertaken, more or less, from that ac- 
 tivity of mind which is inherent in some characters, 
 because naturally we cannot bear to be standing still, 
 and are constitutionally unfitted for a studious, con- 
 templative life. In a real work of benevolence a man 
 cannot but find a very pure pleasure, and it is quite 
 possible that this pleasure, and not any thought of 
 Christ's service or God's glory, may be the main mo- 
 tive which actuates him in doing it. And perhaps some 
 one will ask whether such pleasure is not, at all events, 
 an innocent motive of action 1 To which the answer 
 is, " Perfectly innocent ; while at the same time it does 
 not go the length of being gracious or supernatural." 
 Nature can produce such a motive ; it is no necessary 
 mark or token of the grace of God. Gracious or su- 
 pernatural motives must at the least have respect to 
 God and Christ, and the world to come, and the wel- 
 flire of the soul. The highest of them, defined accord- 
 ing to its principle, is the love of Christ, and, accord- 
 ing to its end, the glory of God. But it is probable, 
 alas ! that very few actions, even of the best men, are 
 prompted exclusively by this motive, unalloyed with 
 any sentiment of a baser kind. Nay, generally speak- 
 ing, few indeed are the actions which are done from un- 
 mixed motives, whether purely good or purely bad ; 
 
94 Of Self-Examination. [pakt 
 
 and our wisdom is not to be discouraged if we find, 
 upon close Self-examination, as we shall assuredly find, 
 that much which looks well before men is hollow and 
 defective when tried by the touchstone of God's Word. 
 Suffice it, if with trembling confidence we are able to 
 make out, that we are under the lead of Grace, and fol- 
 lowing that lead. Motives more defecated from the 
 dregs of nature, more purely and exclusively gracious, 
 will come, if we press towards the mark, with a greater 
 measure of spiritual attainment. If our conscience 
 should affirm upon the whole the presence in us of ear- 
 nest secret prayer, that is a great point for humble 
 thankfulness ; because it is hard to see how secret 
 prayer can be prompted by any but a religious motive, 
 or how it can fail to be due to the supernatural Grace 
 of God. 
 
 But we must hasten to bring these thoughts to a 
 close. And let the close of a Chapter, whose great 
 scope has been to render the reader dissatisfied with 
 himself, be devoted to assure him that this dissatisfac- 
 tion will avail him nothing, except as it leads him to a 
 perfect, joyful, and loving satisfaction with his Saviour. 
 To have probed their own wounds, and pored over their 
 own inflamed and envenomed frames, would have 
 availed the poisoned Israelites nothing, unless, after 
 such a survey of their misery, they had lifted their 
 eyes to the brazen serpent. " Look unto Him," there- 
 fore, " and be ye healed." Judged by the criterion of 
 the highest motive, nothing can be more miserably 
 defective that the best righteousness of the best man. 
 It flows indeed from the Holy Spirit within him; 
 but even the influences of the Spirit derive an admix- 
 ture of infirmity from flowing through the taint- 
 ed channels of the human will and affections. It 
 
n.] Of Intercessory Prayer. 95 
 
 was not so with the Lord Jesus. The nature which 
 He took of the pure Virgin was subject to all the 
 physical, but none of the moral, infirmities of our 
 nature. His heart always beat true to God's glory and 
 man's salvation ; — a magnetic needle ever pointing to 
 that great pole, not shaken even for a moment from its 
 stedfastness by the vacillation of lower and less perfect 
 motives. And His singleness of aim, His piety and 
 benevolence of conduct is ours, — God be praised, — not 
 only to copy, but also to appropriate. Take it. Chris- 
 tian ; it is thine. Delight in it, as God delights in it, 
 and thou shalt be agreed with God, and shalt stand 
 before Him at the last day in the white robe, pure as 
 driven snow ; not having thine own righteousness 
 which is of the law, but that which is by the faith of 
 Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 OF INTERCESSOET PEAYEE. 
 
 " They made the breastplate: .... and they set in it four rows 
 
 of stones : .... And the stones were according to the names 
 
 of the children of Israel^ twelve, according to their names^ 
 
 . like the engravings of a signet, every one with his name 
 
 according to the twelve tribes.'''' — Exod. xxxix. 9, 10, 14. 
 
 The Spouse in the Canticles, who represents the 
 Church, cries to the heavenly Bridegroom, " Set me as 
 a seal upon thine heart." Christ answers this prayer 
 by interceding for each of His people in Heaven, by 
 bearing upon His heart the wants, trials, troubles, sins 
 of each, and by pleading for each the merits of his 
 
96 Of Intercessory Prmjer. [part 
 
 most precious Death and Passion. In the seventeenth 
 chapter of St. John's Gospel, which contains the great 
 high-priestly prayer of Our Lord, we find Him com- 
 mencing this office of Intercession. " I pi'ay for them," 
 says He of His disciples. The Intercession then com- 
 menced ; but it has been continuing ever since ; it is 
 prolonged through all time ; it embraces not the 
 Apostles only, but every soul of the redeemed. Of this 
 Intercession the breastplate of the Jewish high priest 
 supplies a beautiful figure. In the breastplate there 
 were twelve precious stones, arranged in four rows of 
 three, upon each of which was written the name of one 
 of the twelve tribes. The breastplate, of course, when 
 worn, would rest upon the priest's heart, — would rise 
 and sink with every palpitation of the breast. When 
 he appeared before God in his full sacerdotal attire, 
 there would be the twelve names upon his heart, 
 indicative of his love and care for the whole people of 
 Israel. Names I the names of those with whom we are 
 well acquainted, how much they imply! how true to 
 nature is that Scripture idiom, or phraseology, which 
 makes the name stand for the whole character ! Let 
 but the name of a person familiar to us be mentioned 
 in our hearing, and what an instantaneous rush takes 
 place into the mind of the personality of the man, — of 
 his temperament, manners, features, way of thinking 
 and acting, in short of all his physical and mental 
 peculiarities I The names upon the high priest's breast- 
 plate betoken the individuality of Christ's Intercession 
 for his people. Not a sparrow is forgotten before 
 God. And not a single want or woe of a single soul is 
 forgotten by the God-man, when He intercedes. 
 
 It was observed, in a recent Chapter, that every 
 Christian is in a certain important sense a priest, con- 
 
IL] Of Intercessory Praijer. 97 
 
 secrated in Baptism and Confirmation to offer up 
 spiritual sacrifices to God. Accordingly every Christian 
 must intercede, because Intercession is one of the 
 priestly functions. The Intercession of the great High 
 Priest for the whole Church is ever rising, like a cloud 
 of fragrant incense, to the Throne of Grace. And it 
 should be our ambition to throw, each one for himself, 
 our little grain of incense into His censer. The prayer, 
 which is offered by the Head in Heaven for the whole 
 Body, should be re-echoed by the members here on 
 earth. 
 
 The consideration of Intercessory Prayer properly 
 follows that of Self-examination. They are at the 
 opposite poles of the Christian's devotional exercises. 
 Self-examination is the most interior, as Intercession is 
 the most exterior, of those exercises. The one is a 
 retiring into oneself and shutting out the whole world ; 
 the other is a going forth in sympathy and love towards 
 other men, — an association of oneself with their wants, 
 wishes, and trials. Hence these exercises are very 
 necessary to keep one another in check. The healthy 
 action of the mind requires that both shall continually 
 be practised. By undue and overstrained self-inspection 
 the mind is apt to become morbid and depressed, and 
 to breed scruples, which tease and harass without 
 producing any real fruit. The man becomes a vale- 
 tudinarian in ' religion, full of himself, his symptoms, 
 his ailijients, the delicacy of his moral health ; and 
 valetudinarians are always a plague, not only to them- 
 selves, but to every body connected with them. One 
 tonic adapted to remedy this desponding, timid, nervous 
 state of mind, is an active sympathy, such as comes 
 out in Intercessory Prayer, with the wants and trials of 
 otliers, a sympatliy based upon that precept of the holy 
 5 
 
98 Of Intercessory Prayer. [part 
 
 Apostle's, " Look not every man on his own things, but 
 every man also on the things of others." 
 
 ObseiVe, first, the great importance attached to this 
 duty in Holy Scripture, and in that which is a faithful 
 uninspired echo of Holy Scripture, the Prayer Book. 
 In the Old Testament you find Abraham winning by 
 Intercession the preservation of the cities of the plain, 
 on condition — a condition, alas ! not fulfilled — that ten 
 righteous were found therein. In the New Testament 
 you find the early Church winning by Intercessory 
 Prayer the preservation of the life of St. Peter from the 
 sword of Herod, on which life was suspended, humanly 
 speaking, the existence of the infant community. But 
 let us come at once to the Lord's Prayer, as containing 
 by implication the most striking of all precepts on the 
 subject. If the Lord's Prayer is to be the great model 
 of Prayer, as it surely is, how much Intercession ought 
 not our Prayers to contain ! This extraordinary 
 Prayer is so constructed, that it is impossible to use it, 
 without praying for all other Christians as well as 
 ourselves. Intercession, instead of being a clause added 
 on to it, is woven into its very texture. Break off the 
 minutest fragment you please, and you will find inter- 
 cession in it. Oil and water will not coalesce ; pour 
 them together, and the one will remain on the surface 
 of the other. But wine and water interpenetrate one 
 another ; in every drop of the mixed liquid there are 
 both elements. When we pray for others, we usually 
 add some paragraphs at the close of our ordinary 
 prayers, distinct from them, as oil, though placed upon 
 water, remains distinct. But in the Lord's own model 
 Prayer, the Intercession and the petitions for self inter- 
 penetrate one another ; the petitioner, who uses it ver- 
 batim et literatim,, never employs the singular number. 
 
n.] Of Intercessory Prayer. 99 
 
 A wonderful contrivance indeed, by which the Author 
 secures a more important end than we perhaps are apt 
 to think of. The prayer, it must be remembered, was 
 given as a kind of watchword for Christians, by the 
 adoption and use of which they should be distinguished 
 from the disciples of other Rabbis, such as John the 
 •Baptist, — " as a sign of profession, and mark of dif- 
 ference," to accommodate the language of our Articles 
 to the purpose, " whereby Christian "men might be 
 discerned from, others that be not christened." Now 
 this sign or watchword must necessarily have Love 
 woven into its very texture ; for what was the appointed 
 note, whereby the world was to know disciples of Jesus 
 from those who were not His disciples 1 His own 
 words answer that question very pointedly : " By this 
 shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have 
 love one to another. ^^ Then in the very watchword of 
 the Disci] )les* there must be Love. And this could not 
 be more strikingly contrived than by drawing up the 
 watchword in such terms that no man could use it as a 
 prayer for himself, without at the same time interceding 
 for his brother Christians. 
 
 Of the testimony of our Liturgy to the duty of In- 
 tercessory Prayer we need only say that, after the 
 penitential introduction of Morning and Evening 
 PrayerJ there are, as a general rule, only three collects 
 which supplicate blessings for the congregation then 
 worshipping; — all that follows except the prayer of 
 St. Chrysostom is Intercession. The latter and longer 
 half of the Litany is intercessory ; and the Communion 
 Service, after the Offertory, passes on to the " Pray- 
 er for the whole state of Christ's Church militant here 
 on earth." It appears that the compilers kept care- 
 fully in view the inspired precept given for the guidance 
 
100 Of Intercessory Prayer. [pakt 
 
 of public Prayers, " I exhort that first of all," (it may 
 mean first in point of order, or first in point of impor- 
 tance, or both, but, any how, " first of all,") " supplica- 
 tions, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks, be 
 made for all men ; for kings, and for all that are in 
 authority ; that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life 
 in all godliness and honesty." 
 
 Thus plain, then, is the duty of Intercessory Prayer. 
 And the grounds of it are equally plain. The duty is 
 based upon the fact that men are one body, and 
 members one of another. Whether in Nature or in 
 Grace, a man is essentially the member of a family. In 
 his moral nature he has certain affections, such as bene- 
 volence and compassion, which have reference to others, 
 and show clearly that, in the design of the Creator, he 
 is no isolated creature. And in his spiritual nature too, 
 — in his constitution by Grace and in Christ, — there 
 are brotherly kindness and charity, which show that in 
 the new creature also man is one Body. And if this be 
 so, the weal and the woe of other men, of other 
 Christians, must be, to a certain extent, our weal and 
 woe, cannot fail ultimately to reach us. The different 
 parts of the living frame of man have a wonderful sym- 
 pathy with one another : " Whether one member suffer, 
 all the members suffer with it; or one member be 
 honoured, all the members rejoice with it." And so, if 
 a blow is struck at the body politic either of the State 
 or of the Church, in some extremity of that body which 
 is very remote from ourselves, the blow cannot fail to 
 vibrate through the whole frame, until it reaches even 
 us in our distant corner. Few prayers of the Liturgy 
 are regarded with such general indifference, — few, 1 
 fear, would be more readily dispensed with by the 
 worshippers, — than those for all in civil authority 
 
II.] Of Intercessory Prayer, 101 
 
 and the clergy ; but let any reasonable person ask him 
 self, if he desire to see the necessity of such prayers, 
 whether he really thinks that a general abandonment 
 of these exalted functionaries by the Providence and 
 Grace of God would prove in the end indifferent to 
 himself. Suppose the whole body of our rulers in 
 Church and State, to be utterly godless, (and godless 
 they must be without the Grace of God,) could such a 
 state of things be -of little moment to me, because I 
 happen to be at the lower extremity of the social 
 scale % Would not the ungodliness in high places 
 reach me, though in a low place, through a thou- 
 sand avenues'? If in no other way, would not God 
 send judgments upon the nation and the Church, 
 for the ungodliness of their rulers? If then each of 
 us has a real interest in the moral and spiritual wel- 
 fare of the community, it must be expedient for our- 
 selves that we should pray for the whole community, 
 and especially for those who before God are its Repre- 
 sentatives. But, expediency altogether apart, if a 
 man's relations to others are, as we have shown, bound 
 up in his own nature, he must surely bring his rela- 
 tions and sympathies with him, .when he appears be- 
 fore God. Otherwise, what does he do but virtually 
 say to God, '' Thou didst create me a member of a 
 flimily, to love and to care for my brethren ; but here 
 r stand before Thee in all the isolation of my own 
 selfishness 1 " 
 
 And yet, though both the duty of Intercessory 
 Prayer and the grounds of it are thus clear, there is 
 perhaps no part of devotion which good Christians more 
 systematically neglect. May it not be said that com- 
 monly even devout persons feel very little interest in 
 any Intercessions, except such as touch their own im- 
 
102 Of Intercessory Prayer. [part 
 
 mediate circle of family and friends ? While perhaps 
 there are some, who of set purpose hug a sort of 
 spiritual selfishness, and would not hesitate to avow 
 that for them the personal question of their own sal- 
 vation is indeed the whole of religion. 
 
 Now can we analyse this feeling of disinclination to 
 a religious exercise, at once so reasonable and so scrip- 
 tural 1 It seems to be a mixed feeling, having in it a 
 good and a bad element. Some, no doubt, shrink from 
 Intercessory Prayer, under a feeling that, as coming 
 from them, it would be presumptuous. " What am I, 
 that I should plead the cause of others, — I, who have 
 so much to ask for myself, and who have no native 
 right to ask at all 1 Or how can I think that prayers 
 from me, like those from righteous Abraham, can win 
 any thing from God for my brethren 1" The feeling 
 is good, but mistaken in its application. In the first 
 place, what God expressly commands us to do, it can 
 never be a presumption to do. If by His holy Apostle 
 He has taught us to make prayers and supplications, 
 and to give thanks for all men, His command surely is 
 enough to exempt such prayers from the charge of pre- 
 sumptuousness. Had He not commanded them, such 
 a scruple might reasonably find place. Prayers for the 
 dead are not commanded, — nay, they are implicitly dis- 
 couraged by the suggestions made in Holy Scripture 
 that the state of the dead admits of no change ; and 
 therefore to offer such prayers is presumption, because 
 they are beyond the warrant of God's express will and 
 Word. But prayers for the living are, as we have seen, 
 made obligatory upon the disciples of Jesus Christ, by 
 the very form of the model Prayer which he gave us 
 to use. 
 
 Next, as regards the imagined feebleness and impo- 
 
n.] Of Intercessory Prayer. ' 103 
 
 tency of our prayers for others, — a feeling which looks 
 humble and plausible enough on the surface, — we must 
 inquire how far it may possibly resolve itself into a 
 half-sceptical question as to the efficacy of Prayer alto- 
 gether. And if there be in our minds no doubt on this 
 head, we should then remember that our intercessions 
 do not stand alone, but that in offering them, we co- 
 operate with the whole Church, and, above all, with 
 Christ the Head of the Church. Do not omit to cal- 
 culate the power of combination. Many very slight 
 muscular efforts, put forth imperceptibly, will create, 
 it is said, force enough to turn a heavy piece of furni- 
 ture. The smallest contributions made by a vast num- 
 ber of people would soon fill a monarch's treasury. 
 Let, then, thy feeble intercession be put forth to move 
 the will of God to show mercy to others. Other inter- 
 cessions shall meet it at the throne of grace, which shall 
 convert it into a strong force. Yea, His shall certainly 
 meet it, which is singly and by itself the strongest of 
 all forces with God, — powerful at all times to bend His 
 Will, and to impetratc from Him the highest blessings. 
 Rhoda, the damsel who admitted St. Peter to the house 
 of Mary the mother of Mark, was one of those who 
 were gathered together praying for the Apostle's deliv- 
 erance. Her prayer was one of those which won from 
 God the preservation of this chief Apostle. 
 
 But in our reluctance to Intercessory Prayer we 
 must acknowledge, if we be candid with ourselves, the 
 presence of a bad feeling, a great want of sympathy 
 with others, — or, in other words, a lack of love. We 
 feel no interest in them, and therefore do not care to 
 pray for them. Now, so far as this is the case with us, 
 we must consider, first, that such selfishness invalidates 
 and empties of efficacy our prayers for ourselves. Our 
 
104 Of Intercessory Prayer. [part 
 
 Saviour in His comments on the cursing of the fig-tree, 
 lays down, you will find, two great conditions of success 
 in Prayer, — the first, that we shall pray in faith ; the 
 second, that we shall pray in love. How does he pray 
 in love, who in his prayer looks only on his own things, 
 and not on those of others ? Can he hope to win any 
 thing from God, while he is in a mind so different from 
 that of God ? It is a great truth, reader, that if we de- 
 sire to gain any thing from the Most High, our minds 
 must be set more or less to the same key as His. If 
 two harps be strung to the same key, but not other- 
 wise, when one of them is struck, the other gives a 
 responsive sound. There must be some secret affinity 
 in nature between the lightning of heaven and the con- 
 ductor which draws it down, — between the steel and* 
 the magnet which attracts it, — between the light sub- 
 stances and the chafed glass or sealing-wax, towards 
 which they leap up and cling. And in Grace there 
 must be a secret affinity between God and the soul (this 
 affinity itself being the eflfect of Grace) before the soul 
 can lay hold of God's Will, and draw out a blessing 
 from Him, yea, draw God Himself into it. 
 
 This affinity stands in Love. God, the great Father, 
 loves all men. He will have all men to be saved, and 
 to come to the knowledge of the truth. He sent His 
 Son to save all, — Redemption being, as far as Flis will 
 and intention are concerned, co-extensive with the hu- 
 man race. Therefore he who prays with the largest 
 sympathy, he who embraces in his prayer the widest 
 circle of his fellow-creatures, is most in sympathy with 
 the mind of God, when he prays, — has the key of God's 
 heart, and therefore the key of God's treasury. And 
 as for him who prays in the total absence of this sym- 
 pathy, does it not stand to reason that God must re- 
 
II.] Of Intercessory Prayer. 105 
 
 main mute to such a man % Suppose an entire absence 
 from a petitioner's mind of the fraternal feeling towards 
 fellow-men and fellow-Christians; and what does it 
 seem to imply, but an absence of filial feeling % Is not 
 the filial feeling the correlative of the fraternal, accord- 
 ing to that word of the Apostle ; " Every one that 
 loveth Him that begat, loveth him also, that is begotten 
 of Him % " Thus are the two first words of the Prayer 
 of Prayers bound together in an indissoluble wedlock ; 
 and he who cannot in sympathy and love say " Our," 
 cannot, in faith and trust, say " Father." 
 
 Then pray for others, if you have not yet done so, 
 uniting with your prayers, where it is possible to do so 
 and opportunity offers, that kindly interest in their con- 
 cerns, which attests the sincerity of your intercessions. 
 Pray particularly for those who have done you wrong ; 
 nothing tends more to engender that frame of mind 
 w^hich is essential to success. Do not be baffled by 
 the thought that explicitness of request is always neces- 
 sary. The mention of the name, the thought of the 
 person before the Throne of Grace, the simple com- 
 mendation of him by Prayer to God's mercy and bless- 
 ing, is a great point gained, and in numerous cases is 
 all that can be done. If we much desire explicitness, 
 and yet not know exactly into what form to throw the 
 petition, the Holy Spirit, the Gift of gifts, which in- 
 volves holiness and happiness both here and hereafter, 
 may always be petitioned for on behalf of all. But, 
 after all, there is much in that beautiful word of our 
 Prayer for all Conditions of Men, " that it may please 
 Thee to comfort and relieve them according to their 
 several necessiiies.^^ God understands those necessities 
 perfectly ; and we may safely ask Him to supply them 
 all, according to th.j understanding which He has of 
 
106 • Of Devotional Reading. [part 
 
 them in His Infinite Mind. You niay do for your 
 friend, or your relative, the same kind office which those 
 interested in the poor paralytic in the Gospel did for 
 him, — bring him in the arms of Prayer, and lay him 
 down in his helplessness before Jesus, thus silently 
 commending him to the pity and sympathy of the In- 
 finite Love. You may have many thus to commend, 
 parents, brothers, sisters, colleagues, helpmates, friends, 
 children and godchildren, masters, servants, pastors, 
 parishioners, and may commend them all by the sim- 
 ple, quiet, devout recitation of their names. Yes, thou 
 mystical Aaron, washed for thy sacred functions in the 
 laver of regeneration, and clothed in the Righteousness 
 of Christ, forget not to wear thy breastplate, when thou 
 goest in to offer up a spiritual sacrifice, — neglect not to 
 exhibit silently before God, graven upon thy heart, the 
 names of all thou lovest ; yea, be an intercessor, as 
 far as in thee lies, for all the people ; for of what mem- 
 ber of the human family can it be said that he has 
 no claim whatever upon thy sympathy and kind 
 offices ? 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 OF DEVOTIONAL EEADING. 
 
 *■'' And Elisha died^ and they buried him. And the hands of tlie 
 Moahites invaded the land at the coming in of the year. 
 
 ^'- And it came to pass, as they were burying a man, that, behold, 
 they spied a band of men ; and they cast the man into the 
 sepulchre of Elisha; and when the man ivas let down, and 
 touched the bones of Elisha, he revived, and stood up on his 
 feet:'— 2 KixNGS xiii. 20, 21. 
 
 We Protestants do not attach virtue to relics, in the 
 ordinary sense of that term ; but there is a sense, in 
 
II. J Of Devotional Reading. 107 
 
 which we may reasonably enough do so. Eelics are 
 remains ; and while we believe that no virtue resides in 
 the material remains of a good man, we do not there* 
 fore exempt from efficacy his mental or spiritual remains. 
 If he has left behind him in writing the effusions of a 
 devout mind, we believe that these writings, by which 
 " he being dead yet speaketh," often exercise an influ- 
 ence for good upon readers, long after he himself has 
 passed away, and that thus the miracle wrought by the 
 bones of Elisha is continually repeating itself in the 
 experience of the Church. Souls are being quickened 
 and edified by the instrumentality of books, which 
 books are all that remain of their authors. A holy 
 man, who lives in habitual communion with God, has a 
 living influence on his generation, and also, if he be a 
 writer, an influence on posterity. His living influence 
 may be compared to the miracles wrought by the 
 shadow of St. Peter, or by the handkerchiefs and aprons 
 brought to the sick from the body of St. Paul. The 
 influence exercised by his writings after death, may be 
 fitly compared to the posthumous miracle recorded in 
 the text, a miracle which stands alone in Holy Scrip- 
 ture, and in which it is clearly desirable to find some 
 moral significance. 
 
 We shall speak first of the power of devotional 
 reading, and then give some practical suggestions for 
 the conduct of this exercise. 
 
 I. (1) The power of devotional reading maybe seen 
 from considering the effect, which constant association 
 with the wise and good would naturally exert upon the 
 mind. It is an axiomatic truth which has passed into 
 an inspired proverb : " He that walketh with wise men 
 shall be wise." Mere common intercourse with wise 
 men, however, — the merely being thrown with them in 
 
108 Of Devotional Reading. [paet 
 
 ordinary society, — might not, for various reasons, be 
 productive of much good. The time might pass in 
 remarks upon those trite and superficial topics, which 
 are the necessary introduction to something deeper 
 and better. We might not be able to get at the 
 wise man's mind. He might be reserved in communi- 
 eating his sentiments, or we might be awkward, and 
 wanting in the tact to draw them out. Comparatively 
 few persons have the gift, for a gift it is, of lively table- 
 talk on subjects of secular interest. How much fewer 
 possess such a gift on religious and spiritual topics ! 
 There are nine chances to one against your coming into 
 contact with the mind of a devout person by merely 
 being thrown with him in company. To see him in 
 society is a different thing from seeing him in his 
 closet, pursuing his meditations, and mixing Prayer 
 with them. The nearest approach you can make to 
 seeing him thus, and it is a very near approach indeed,, 
 is by reading his works of piety. In them is mirrored 
 his best mind at his best moments. Words committed 
 to the press are maturely considered and pruned of all 
 excrescences, whereas in conversation there is ne- 
 cessarily much that is extemporaneous, and still 
 more that is redundant. Suppose now that we 
 were made privy to much of the interior life of men 
 eminent for piety, — that they communicated to us the 
 counsel, which was the result of thier experience in 
 religion, gave us their fresh thoughts upon the Holy 
 Scriptures, threw out suggestions to us to help us in 
 leading a holy life, made in our hearing remarks which 
 had a certain heavenly savour and gave a relish for 
 spiritual things, — suppose that they were constantly by 
 our sides with these counsels, thoughts, suggestions, 
 and remarks, — could we fail of deriving benefit from 
 
II.] Of Devotional Reading. 109 
 
 our association with them? — must not our minds, 
 almost according to their natural constitution and inde 
 pendently of the operation of Divine Grace, insensibly 
 take a tinge from theirs % Shall it not be that some 
 glowing sentiment of theirs, thrown out like a hot 
 ember from the fire of their zeal, shall light upon com- 
 bustible material in our hearts, and kindle there the 
 flame of Divine love? Often has the opposite effect 
 been produced by tales and poems, which have had a 
 malignant tendency to stimulate the worst passions. 
 If bad books are a very powerful engine in the hands 
 of the Devil, as there can be no doubt that they are, 
 shall not good and holy books be an equally powerful 
 agency in the Economy of Grace ? No one who has 
 really studied inrsonal religion, who has cultivated the 
 piety of the closet as distinct from that of the platform, 
 will hesitate to acknowledge that they are so. 
 
 (2) But the power of good books may be seen from 
 another very important consideration respecting them. 
 Spiritual reading has to, a certain extent — more entirely 
 for some minds than for others, but to a certain extent 
 for all minds — taken the place of preaching : this has 
 come about in the order of God's Providence, which has 
 ordained the diflfusion of literature through the press, 
 just as it has ordained many less important movements. 
 Without at all denying that oral teaching has still cer- 
 tain great prerogatives over teaching by books, that in 
 voice, and manner, and generally in the influences 
 which go to make up public speaking, there is some- 
 thing electric and sympathetic, wiiich no mere dead 
 letter can ever supply, — and without denying also that 
 the form of Christian teaching, which is closest to the 
 primitive and Apostolic model, is more likely to have 
 God's blessing upon it than a mere modern form, — it 
 
110 Of Devotional Reading, [part 
 
 would yet be preposterous in the highest degree to say 
 that we are as dependent for religious instruction upon 
 oral teaching, as the early Church was. We see no- 
 thing derogatory to the Christian Pulpit in acknow- 
 ledging that God, in modern times, causes some, 
 though not all, of its work to be done by religious 
 literature. Such an acknowledgment, if rightly under- 
 stood, does not degrade the pulpit, but exalts the 
 literature. And here we come across a thought which 
 must reappear presently in the shape of practical advice. 
 The reading of spiritual books may be regarded, and 
 ought to be regarded, more or less, in the light of a 
 Divine Ordinance. That Preaching is an ordinance 
 would be generally admitted by Protestants, and indeed 
 must be admitted by all who take the New Testament 
 as their guide. The only error which is sometimes 
 allowed to cloud a little the clearness of the truth so 
 admitted, is the narrowing the meaning of the word 
 Preaching to a formal discourse delivered by a minister 
 in the course of Divine worship. Instead of imposing 
 upon the word this somewhat technical and cramped 
 sense, take Preaching as being the communication of 
 Divine knowledge to men through the instrumentality 
 of men ; and then Preaching is in the fullest sense an 
 Ordinance, yea, one of the chiefest Ordinances of the 
 Gospel. " Faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by 
 the Word of God." It is an Ordinance for the illus- 
 tration, exposition, and application of Holy Scripture to 
 the conscience. Instruction of this kind is essential to 
 vital religion ; it is the oil of the spiritual lamp, which 
 keeps Prayer burning. Only admit that the power of 
 Preaching may come to some — nay, to all, more or less, 
 — through a written, as well as through a spoken word. 
 Only admit that there may be a hearing in the closet 
 
II.] Of Devotional Reading. Ill 
 
 with the inward, as in the Church with the outward ear. 
 But then this admission involves the duty, which we 
 are all so slow to fulfil, of reading, no less than hear- 
 ing, with all the solemnity of a devotional exercise. If 
 it is wrong to be otherwise than seriously attentive to 
 Preaching in Church, where the preacher is a living 
 man, it is equally wrong to be otherwise than seriously 
 attentive to Preaching in the closet, where the preacher 
 is perhaps a dead one. And we doubt not that if good 
 Christians were persuaded that some of the power and 
 dignity of Preaching now rests upon the reading of 
 good books, and if accordingly they read them with the 
 same seriousness of spirit, and desire of edification, with 
 which they listen, or try to listen, to formal Sermons, 
 such books would be largely blessed to quicken in them 
 the spiritual life, and to advance the Kingdom of God 
 in their hearts. 
 
 II. But what suggestions may be given as to the 
 conduct of this exercise ? First, a discrimination must 
 be used in the choice of books. All good books are 
 not equally attractive, and therefore not equally pro- 
 fitable, to all minds. It is with spiritual very much 
 as it is with bodily food. A man by a little experience, 
 by a few trials, and by a short insight into his own 
 constitution, soon gets to know that this or that is bad 
 for him, that this or that, on the other hand, is for 
 him digestible and wholesome. I say, for him. 
 Probably it would be a mistake in medicine to assert 
 that, independently of the constitution, circumstances, 
 and temperament of the patient, any particular food 
 was digestible or the reverse. And certainly it is a 
 grand mistake in Theology to suppose that all the pro- 
 ductions of devout writers are equally serviceable to 
 every class of minds. It is notoriously the reverse. 
 In His Holy Scriptures, which are the great fontal 
 
112 Of Devotional Beading. [part 
 
 abyss from which every work of piety and devotion 
 must be drawn, the Lord has given us an infinite varie- 
 ty of Inspired Literature. What literature is there 
 which does not find itself represented in the Holy Scrip- 
 ture, — poetry, history, biography, proverbs, letters, fa- 
 bles, allegories % There never w as a book sa little 
 monotonous as the Bible, so continually changing its 
 key, if so be that some, at all events, may be charmed 
 by the voice of the Heavenly Charmer. The same 
 Spirit, who inspired the Holy Scriptures, gave great 
 diversity of gifts to the early Christian teachers. All 
 were not Apostles, nor all prophets, nor all teachers, 
 nor did all speak with tongues, nor all interpret. And 
 now that the supernatural gifts have died out of the 
 Church, the same Spirit observes the same rule of va- 
 riety in the different mental endowments, which He 
 distributes to different teachers of Divine Truth. All 
 men's writings have not the same power over all men's 
 minds. Is there not a plain testimony to this in the 
 avowal which we hear so often made ; " I know I ought 
 to like such and such a book, which all the world agrees 
 in praising ; but I cannot do it ? " What the com- 
 plaint really means is, that the book does not suit you, 
 that the general strain of the author's mind has not 
 that harmony with the general strain of yours, which 
 will give him an influence over you for good. That 
 being the case, leave him alone, — without however 
 doubting or denying the power which he may have over 
 other minds. Even in the Holy Scriptures themselves 
 we think ourselves quite warranted in selecting those 
 passages which are most suitable to the circumstances, 
 intelligence, and character of the reader. No one would 
 think of recommending a peasant to engage himself 
 much with the Book of the Revelation, or a child to 
 study the eighth chapter to the Romans. Much more, 
 
II.] Of Devotional Beading. 113 
 
 then may we exercise a similar discretion with those 
 works, which, however pious and edifying, do not come 
 to us on the authority of Inspiration. Choose, then, 
 those books to which, from a cursory knowledge of 
 their contents, you find yourself most drawn. There 
 are several which have attained the rank of standard 
 works, from their possessing excellences of various 
 kinds. Such are the Saint's Rest, the Pilgrim's Pro- 
 gress (which all know a little of, but very few have 
 studied), the Imitation of Christ by Thomas a Kempis, 
 Taylor's Holy Living and Dying, Cecil's Remains, the 
 Thoughts of Adam, Pascal's Thoughts on Religion, 
 Bishop Hall's Contemplations, Edwards on the Reli- 
 gious Affections, Leighton's Commentary on St. Peter, 
 Foster's Sermons, the Christian Year, and several 
 others which will at once suggest themselves to all 
 who are commonly acquainted with our religious lit- 
 erature. 1 may here add that the Roman Church hav- 
 ing made devotion much more of a systematic study 
 than Protestants have done, many of their books, if 
 used with discretion, may be found extremely useful.* 
 On no account, however, should they be resorted to by 
 those whose minds are not fully made up on the un- 
 scriptural or rather anti-scriptural tenets of Romanists, 
 in those points on which Protestants are at issue with 
 them. Such books are the great lure which have en- 
 ticed into that corrupt Communion a number of excel- 
 lent persons, whose devotion has outstripped their 
 judgment, and who have consented to hold their reason 
 in abeyance, while they have given the full swing to 
 their imagination and affections. As you value Scrip- 
 tural truth, and the fairness and impartiality of your 
 own mind, let there be no meddling with such books, 
 unless the mind has come to regard it as a closed 
 
 * See note ou p. 399. 
 
114 , Of Devotional Reading, [paet 
 
 question that Romanism, in many of its principal fea- 
 tures, is expressly contrary to the Word of God. We 
 shall be poorly compensated for a warmer and more 
 genial form of religion, if we have been enticed into 
 positive doctrinal error. To throw ourselves in the 
 way of seduction by such error, is to run pre- 
 sumptuously into temptation ; and God preserves 
 no one from temptation, who runs into it pre- 
 sumptuously. 
 
 But suppose our book chosen, and chosen well and 
 wisely. In what manner shall we read it *? The an- 
 swer to this question has implicitly been given already. 
 Read it as a devotional exercise, mixing Prayer, or at 
 least devout aspirations, with the reading. Every 
 thing that can be said on the subject is really wrapped 
 up in this, — that the reading shall be devotional. Yet 
 we will expand the thought a very little. 
 
 Think of the author as now a member of the Church 
 triumphant, one who is with Christ in Paradise, and 
 for aught you know, looking down upon your struggles 
 and trials from a sphere where sin and sorrow are un- 
 known. Regard this book as a sort of letter sent from 
 him to you, to encourage you on your heavenward pil- 
 grimage, and to stir in you a livelier hope of the in- 
 heritance to which he has (by Grace) attained. By de- 
 grees you shall feel attracted in a strange way, though 
 you have never seen him, towards his mind, as it is mir- 
 rored in his writings, and shall realize something of the 
 sentiments described in that beautiful passage of the 
 Christian Year : — 
 
 Meanwhile with every son and saint of Thine, 
 
 Along the glorious line, 
 Sitting by turns beneath Thy sacred feet, 
 
 We'll hold communion sweet, 
 
II.] Of Devotional Beading. 115 
 
 Know them by look aud voice, and thank them all 
 
 For helping us in thrall, 
 For words of hope, and bright ensamples given, 
 To show through moonless skies that there is light in 
 
 Heaven." 
 
 The recollection that you read for edification, and not 
 for curiosity, or to serve a controversial purpose, will 
 suggest many wholesome rules. Carefully eschew all 
 dissipation in the method of reading. Dissipation is 
 the great snare of all study, whether secular or religious, 
 in the present day. There is so much to read, — such 
 profusion of matter in every department of literature, 
 nay even in the public journals, — that insensibly the 
 habit is formed of skipping the dull, and sipping the 
 interesting, and never honouring any book with a fair 
 and thorough perusal. We must set ourselves in 
 opposition to this habit, if we wish to profit by devo- 
 tional reading. Books must be read through from end 
 to end, if it were only as a corrective to that discursive 
 habit of mind, which the literature of the day fosters, 
 and which is so particularly inimical to devotion. 
 Generally speaking, a second book of devotion should 
 not be taken up, till the first is finished. If the time 
 which we can spare for such reading is short, books of 
 thoughts, more or less sententiously expressed (such as 
 some of those I have mentioned, and to which I may 
 here add " Selections from the Writings of Payson"), 
 will be found very serviceable. The eye soon runs 
 over a few lines, which convey a weighty sentiment ; 
 and, when the sentiment is caught, the mind may recur 
 to it at spare moments during the rest of the day. 
 
 We have already said that good and holy sentiments 
 are the oil which feeds the lamp of Prayer. They are 
 emphatically so. And this suggests an occasional use 
 
116 On Frequenting the Holy Communion, [paet 
 
 of good books, over and above their regular and normal 
 use. There are seasons known to every devout person, 
 vrhen the vessel of the heart seems to run dry, and the 
 flame of Prayer burns low m the socket. You may 
 then often replenish the vessel by reading the favourite 
 spiritual author. Pass your eye once more over that 
 marked passage, — over those words which glow with 
 such a fervour of devout sentiment ; and the oil will 
 flow again, drop by drop, into the vessel. Particularly 
 may this be done with Christian poetry. Poetry is the 
 voice of the affections ; and, therefore, has a peculiar 
 tendency to quicken the affections. The music of 
 David's harp chased away from Saul the evil spirit of 
 moody sullenness. Elisha's minstrel, playing with his 
 hand, laid such a spell upon the prophet's mind, that 
 the hand of the Lord came upon him, and he pro- 
 phesied. And the minstrelsy of psalms and hymns, 
 and spiritual songs, has often brought the Christian out 
 of a state of mind, in which Prayer seemed a labour 
 and a drudgery, if not an impossibility, into that calm 
 and holy frame, in which he could again put forth 
 spiritual energies, and has found himself able to renew 
 his interrupted converse with God. Give the specific a 
 trial, and you shall ere long know its virtue for your- 
 self. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 ON FREQUENTING THE HOLY COMMUNION. 
 
 " Whether tlierefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do 
 all to the glory of God." — 1 Cor. x. 31. 
 
 It is curious to observe how religious ideas are con- 
 tinually in a state of flux and change. Not only do 
 
II.] On Frequenting the Holy Communion. 11 "7 
 
 outward fashions alter, but habits of thought are 
 different from what they once were. Controversies 
 have shifted their ground; and the theological com- 
 batants have gone off to a different part of the field. 
 Time was when many a controversial lance was broken 
 in our Church on the question at issue between 
 Calvinists and Arminians. The keen interest once 
 taken in that debate has entirely collapsed ; and think- 
 ing men on both sides would probably admit that there 
 is much precious truth in both Calvinism and Armi- 
 nianism, — which is only another form of saying that 
 Holy Scripture makes statements which favour both. 
 To pass from doctrines to practices (not that the two 
 can ever be severed except in idea, for practice must 
 ever be based upon doctrine), there is now in progress 
 a revolution in our habits of thought on the subject 
 of frequently communicating. Serious Christians are 
 coming round gradually, it is presumed by the force of 
 conviction, to the habit of communicating much 
 oftener than they used to do. More frequent oppor- 
 tunities of receiving the holy Supper are given by the 
 Clergy ; an index in itself of a changed state of thought 
 and feeling on the subject ; for where there is no de- 
 mand, there is usually no supply. • And, accordingly, 
 the old manuals of preparation for the Holy Commu- 
 nion, excellent as several of them are, and containing, 
 as many of them do, much valuable material for edifi- 
 cation, are becoming, to a great extent, obsolete. They 
 need to be thrown into a new form, adapted to a 
 weekly or fortnightly recurrence of the Ordinance. 
 For that the copious meditations and self-examinations, 
 which most of them contain and recommend, should be 
 gone through weekly, fortnightly, — nay, even monthly, 
 — by persons engaged in the active business of life, is of 
 
118 0)1 Frequenting the Holy Communion, [part 
 
 course out of the question, — a simple impossibility. A 
 ^volume of preparatory devotions, (and several of these 
 manuals are volumes,) implies that the Ordinance 
 recurs but rarely, at great and solemn periods. 
 
 Is the old method of rare Communion, or the new- 
 method of frequent Communion, the best 1 We believe 
 the new method to be so, because it is based upon a 
 truer view of the Ordinance. The frequency or rarity 
 of celebration would be in itself of comparatively little 
 moment, if it were a mere outward fashion, if there 
 were no principle involved in it. But a principle there 
 is, underlying, and giving rise to, the change of prac- 
 tice ; and we rejoice to think that this principle is 
 more freely and generally recognized than it has 
 hitherto been. 
 
 If the Eucharist were merely, as Zwingle most 
 erroneously thought, a commemorative rite, — if the 
 whole design of the Ordinance were to affect us with a 
 picture of our Saviour's Passion, this design would 
 doubtless be carried out more effectively by a rare than 
 by a frequent Communion. For it is a law of the 
 mind, from the operation of which we shall strive in 
 vain to exempt ourselves, that the impression which is 
 constantly repeated gradually loses its force. But the 
 Lord's Supper is not merely a commemoration, but an 
 actual channel or vehicle of Grace to the soul. It stands 
 on the same footing in this respect with Prayer, reading 
 of Scripture, public worship, and sermons ; only we be- 
 lieve that it takes precedence of them all, as the instru- 
 ment of a higher Grace, and a means of a closer commu- 
 nion with God. Observe that by the Word of God itself, 
 the Eucharist is placed in the same category with the 
 other means of Grace, and that it seems to be intimated 
 that the early Christians were equally frequent in the 
 
n.] On Frequenting the Holy Communion. 119 
 
 observance of all of them. " And they continued sted- 
 fast in the Ajmstles' doctrine and felloiv ship ^^ (they con- 
 stantly attended the teaching of the Apostles, and did 
 not forsake the assembling of themselves together with 
 them in the name of Christ), " and in breaking of 
 bread, and in prayers." There is no hint here that the 
 doctrine and the prayers were to be of frequent recur- 
 rence, but the breaking of Bread to be reserved, as I 
 may say, for state occasions. If all are means of 
 Grace, and if the " breaking of Bread," as being the 
 distinctly Christian Ordinance, — yea, as communicating 
 to the soul, not indeed by a carnal transubstantiation, 
 but " after an heavenly and spiritual manner," the very 
 Body and Blood of our crucified Redeemer, — is the 
 highest means of Grace, why should not all recur with 
 equal frequency ? Do we allege that the liveliness of 
 our feelings respecting the Lord's Supper will wear off 
 with the frequent repetition of it ? Nay ; but it is not 
 liveliness of feeling which in any Ordinance we should 
 seek, but the strengthening of principle. The two ob- 
 jects are quite distinct. Feeling occasionally runs very 
 high, when principle is at its lowest ebb. Church his- 
 tory supplies instances in abundance of spiritual ecsta- 
 sies (mere Satanic delusions, of course), where there 
 was no real submission of the will to God. And on 
 the other hand, principle may be in its full strength, 
 and faith may be really clinging to God with all the 
 force of moral determination, while feeling seems to 
 have ebbed away altogether out of the soul. Thus Our 
 Lord cries out upon the cross that God has forsaken 
 Him, while He is really tightening His hold upon the 
 Father, and indicating this firmness of grasp by the 
 little word expressive of so much clinging, " My," — • 
 " My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? " 
 
120 Oil Frequenting the Holy Communion, [paet 
 
 If superficial liveliness of feeling were what we 
 ought to seek in the Ordinances of religion, there could 
 be no question that, too frequent repetition in any of 
 them would be a mistake, calculated to counteract their 
 influence. If for the next two years we shut up our 
 Bibles, and thus divested our minds in some measure 
 of their glib fomiliarity with the phraseology of Scrip- 
 ture, and at the end of the period opened them at one 
 of the more pathetic or sublime passages, that passage 
 would stir in our minds a far more vivid emotion, than 
 Scripture ever communicates under our present circum- 
 stances. At the first outbreak of the Reformation, 
 when the Sacred Volume was scarce, and the people 
 sunk in gross ignorance of its truths, men had a much 
 keener appreciation of it, a much livelier feeling of its 
 preciousness than now, when it lies on the shelf of every 
 cottage, and its comparatively fresh-looking binding 
 shows the neglect in which spiritual blessings are held, 
 as L-oon as they have become cheap, and easy of access. 
 But in order that we might again have those vivid im- 
 pressions respecting God's truth which men had in those 
 old days, when they gathered round the chained Bible 
 in the parish church, and appointed one of their party 
 to read it aloud to them, it would be a strange method 
 of proceeding, and one based on a false logic, to unlearn 
 as much of this blessed Book as we possibly could, in 
 the hope of thus coming fresh to the perusal of it. 
 Then why is not the same reasoning, which holds good 
 in the case of the Holy Scriptures, to be applicable to 
 other means of Grace % If all we sought in the Eu- 
 charist were a certain natural sensibility to the Death 
 of Christ, which Death the Ordinance is appointed to- 
 show forth, then indeed might we go once a year 
 only, like the Scottish peasants, over hill and dale, 
 
n.] On Frequenting the Holy Communion, 121 
 
 to partake of the Heavenly Banquet: — then indeed 
 might we enjoy the artlessness with which the rite is 
 there celebrated, as being a nearer approach to the 
 original, institution m the way of ■picture. But I seek 
 much more in the Eucharist than to look at a picture 
 and be touched by it. I seek to be fed in that holy 
 Ordinance ; to be spiritually nourished, through the 
 elements of Bread and Wine, with that Flesh which 
 is meat indeed, and that Blood which is drink indeed. 
 And if the things of the body furnish any sufficient 
 analogy to the things of the soul, I should fear that 
 the receiving this Heavenly Food only once a year 
 would be something very much resembling spiritual 
 starvation. 
 
 Yet, argue as we may, our arguments will go for 
 nothing against instinct. And in devout minds which 
 have been reared under the old system of things, there 
 is an instinct adverse to very frequent Communions, 
 which it is difficult, if not impossible, to supplant. We 
 believe that in this instinct there is an element of rea- 
 son and reverence, however false may be the conclusions 
 to which it leads ; and that at all events our forefathers 
 had hold of a truth, for w^hich it behoves us to find 
 some place in the modern system. Let us endeavor 
 to analyse the feeling of reluctance which many good 
 persons still entertain to a frequent (say a weekly) 
 Communion. 
 
 Unquestionably, reverence towards the Ordinance 
 has some share in engendering the reluctance. It is 
 felt, and very justly felt, that in order to make so fre- 
 quent a Communion of real value to us, there must be 
 a general correspondence between the Ordinance and 
 our lives. There is somethin^x dreadful in the thought 
 of so high an Ordinance degenerating into formality ; 
 6 
 
122 On Frequenting the Holy Communion, [paet 
 
 and degenerate into formality it must, unless, contem- 
 poraneously with this frequent celebration, there should 
 be a general raising of the tone of the recipient's char- 
 acter and conduct. This is all true, just, and sound, — 
 right in feeling ; right in principle. But why should 
 we implicitly reject the other branch of the alter- 
 native ? Why is there not to be a general raising of 
 the tone of our character and conduct? Why should 
 we resolve to acquiesce in respectability, and virtually 
 decline to aim at sanctity 1 Ah, sluggish will, thou 
 art in fault ! Frequent Communions demand higher 
 aspirations ; and higher aspirations involve stronger ef- 
 forts and harder struggles. And these efforts and 
 struggles are a tax upon the will, which the will per- 
 haps is not quite ready to pay. Is this the secret 
 cause of our reluctance? I believe it is frequently 
 one cause. For if a man be honestly bent, not 
 merely on reaching a very fair average standard of 
 excellence, but on " perfecting holiness in the fear of 
 the Lord," the reluctance* very soon vanishes. Fre- 
 quent Communion is then willingly embraced as a 
 help, not declined out of a false homage to the 
 Ordinance. 
 
 But what, it may be asked, constitutes conformity 
 of life to the Ordinance of the Holy Communion ? 
 What is that habitual state, the living in which (more 
 or less) establishes that correspondence between us and 
 the Ordinance, which makes a very frequent reception 
 available % Let the text which stands at the head of this 
 Chapter furnish us with an answer to this question. 
 
 It is a great mystery, which teaches us many valu- 
 able lessons, that God has consecrated our reception of 
 food into the highest Ordinance of religion. What may 
 this circumstance be designed to teach us? The 
 
II.] On Frequenting the Holy Communion. 123 
 
 lesson expressly stated in the text, " Whether there- 
 fore ye ecat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the 
 glory of God." The reception of food is a common 
 action, — homely, trivial, having nothing dignified or 
 sublime about it, as is intimated by the words, "what- 
 s(Jever ye do," following upon the specification of it, — 
 " Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye 
 do, do all to the glory of God." And again, the re- 
 ception of food is a necessary action, — it is what we 
 must do, in order to maintain our lives. The implica- 
 tion of the text, then, is that in our common and trivial 
 actions, even in those which are bound upon us by 
 necessity, and which we cannot any how escape from 
 doing, — there is room and scope for glorifying Almighty 
 God. On the one hand, we may do them mechanically 
 and in a spirit of routine, or from the low motive of the 
 pleasure which is to be had from them, or from the 
 wrong motive of human praise. Or, on the other hand, 
 we may do them, or strive to do them, in a religious 
 spirit, fixing the eye of the mind, while we do them, 
 on the great end of God's Service and Kingdom. In 
 one word, Ave may either go through comnion life in a 
 common way, tying up our religion to Public Worship 
 on Sundays, and private prayer on week-days, or we may 
 go through common life with an uncommon motive, 
 — the thought of God, and the desire of pleasing and 
 serving Him in all things. Now if a man should be 
 going through common life thus, — if he sanctifies and 
 elevates it, or even strives, as much as he can, to 
 sanctify and elevate it, by importing into it a Christian 
 motive, there is between him and the Holy Communion 
 a certain correspondence, which is easily perceived. 
 What were the materials out of which Christ framed 
 the highest rite. of His holy Religion? Did He pre- 
 scribe a costly sacrifice, such as it would be a tax upon 
 
124 On Frequenting the Holy Communion, [pabt 
 
 human resources to furnish 1 No such thing. He 
 blessed a common meal, and consecrated it into a 
 Sacrament, and made it the means, by a marvellous 
 mystery of Grace, of communicating Himself to man's 
 soul. What did He mean by so doing % Many things 
 of grave import, some things, possibly, beyond our 
 reach; but this most assuredly, — that the genius of 
 His Religion, as expressed in its highest Ordinance, 
 is to sanctify all the actions of human life, even down 
 to the humblest and most necessary. To do this is, 
 if I may so say, to breathe the atmosphere of the 
 Holy Communion, and to have such a congeniality 
 with it, as shall never make it match ill or show 
 unsuitably upon the general groundwork of our lives. 
 Reader, are you and. I striving thus to sanctify, — ^not 
 only holy seasons and holy exercises, — but all the 
 common actions of daily life? Then shall we feel 
 attracted towards a frequent reception of the Holy 
 Communion, as one great means of furthering our 
 object. 
 
 But in the feeling of reluctance to frequent Com- 
 munion, there is one decidedly good element, which we 
 must not pass over without notice. Persons think it 
 beneficial to have certain solemn and stated periods, at 
 which they may look into the affairs of their souls 
 more narrowly, wind up their s^^iritual accounts more 
 at leisure, and make a fresh start, as it were, upon their 
 Christian course. These periods have been with them 
 hitherto their Communions ; each of which has thus 
 become a sort of era in their inner life. But, if tHey 
 are now to communicate every week or every fortnight, 
 this solemn scrutiny and preparation, if it be not an 
 actual impossibility, will become an unreality. Special 
 devotional exercises are good at special seasons, but 
 the mind cannot profitably be under such a strain every 
 
II ] On Frequenting the Holy Communion. 125 
 
 week or every fortnight. Sundays are great helps to a 
 holy life ; but only one day in every seven is appointed 
 to be a Sunday. 
 
 In all this there is great force and reason. And he 
 who is minded to live the Devout Life must on no 
 account abandon the excellent practice of periodically 
 examining his conscience on every department of duty, 
 and seeking from God in prayer, and retirement from 
 the world, that fresh spring of holy energy which is to 
 be found for all of us in the Blood and Grace of Jesus 
 Christ. But why must this necessarily be done before 
 every Communion 1 Why might it not be done only 
 before the three great Communions of Christmas, 
 Easter, and Whit-Sunday 1 Or if even this be found 
 impracticable, as with persons heavily engaged will very 
 likely be the case, why should not these special devo- 
 tions be limited to one Communion in the year, that of 
 Christmas or that of Easter 1 Assuredly, a thorough 
 and sifting Self-examination, once satisfactorily per- 
 formed, is better than three or four cursory inspections 
 of the conscience ; Self-examination being a matter in 
 which to be cursory and superficial is usually to deceive 
 oneself. Then for ordinary Communions, assuming, of 
 course, — and I am assuming all through, — that the 
 conscience is kept clear of wilful sin — our usual evening 
 retrospect of the day, with some very trifling addition 
 to our evening prayer on Eriday and Saturday, the 
 eighty-fourth Psalm, for example, and the prayer of 
 access in the Communion Office, " We do not presume 
 to come to this Thy Table," &c., would abundantly 
 suffice. 
 
 Have we now reached and met in any mind the 
 objections which are felt to a frequent Communion ? 
 Or does there remain still a lurking mistrust of such 
 
126 On Frequenting the Holy Communion, [part 
 
 a practice, under the suspicion, perhaps, that it is 
 popish % . Such a suspicion is, in the first place, not 
 borne out by the facts. Romanists, as a general rule, 
 although they constantly assist at the Mass, (that is, 
 are present at the celebration, and follow- what is being 
 done mentally,) communicate much seldomer than 
 English Churchmen. Their unscriptural tenet of Tran- 
 substantiation, giving as it does a talse awfalness and a 
 superstitious mysteriousness to the Ordinance, frightens 
 them away, and holds them back from frequent Com- 
 munion. So much for the real state of the case among 
 them. And as regards the theory of frequent Com- 
 munion, by way of showing that it is by no means 
 exclusively Romanist, let me close this Chapter with 
 an extract from those touching and edifying addresses 
 which have been lately published under the title of the 
 Adieux of Adolphe Monod. The speaker was a French 
 Protestant Pastor, eminent for piety and for his extra- 
 ordinary abilities as a preacher. The pulpit from which 
 he spoke, — and it is sometimes the most effective of all 
 pulpits, — was a death-bed, around which, Sunday by 
 Sunday, (for he lingered long,) he gathered as many 
 members of his little. flock as the sick-room would hold, 
 and received with them the Ploly Communion, and 
 spoke to them of such subjects as the " Regrets of a 
 Dying Man." One of these addresses is headed " Fre- 
 quent Communion." While guarding myself against 
 being understood to recommend, as he does, a daily 
 Communion, I willingly quote him as an advocate of 
 frequent celebrations. Thus he speaks to the little 
 flock at his bed-side, the words being taken down from 
 his lips by his children : — " My dear friends, I wish 
 you to know that in the frequent reception of the 
 Communion during my illness I find much comfort. 
 
II.] On Frequenting the Holy Communion. 127 
 
 and I hope also much fruit. It is a great evil that the 
 Communion should be celebrated so rarely in oui 
 Church, an evil which people on all sides are now 
 applying themselves to remedy. Our Reformers, in 
 establishing this order of things, have taken care to 
 explain that they did it only for a tjme, and to prevent 
 certain very grave abuses, which had crept into the 
 primitive Church. But what they did as a temporary 
 precaution has remained for ages in the greater number 
 of our churches. At length we reach the time when 
 we may expect to have frequent Communion restored 
 to us. Calvin says somewhere, that the Communion 
 ought to be celebrated at least every Sunday. Remark 
 this at least. If it should be every Sunday at least, 
 what should it be at most? At moH must be, to take 
 it as the early Christians did, according to Calvin (and 
 that comes out, too, clearly enough from the Acts of 
 the Apostles), every day, from, house to house, at the 
 close of the family repast. Each of you may have 
 remarked that rare Communion gives I know not what 
 strange and extraordinary idea of the Communion, — of 
 the preparation which ought to precede, and of the 
 emotions which follow it. On the contrary, frequent 
 Communion makes us understand much better the true 
 character of this Sacrament ; and it is impossible that 
 daily Communion should fail to put us in perfect 
 possession of that true character ; for it teaches us to 
 connect the Communion with all that there is most 
 simple in Christian life, just as a repast is one of the 
 simplest things in ordinary life. But whether there 
 should be a daily celebration or not, certainly in seeing 
 in the Communion the simplest expression of our faith, 
 we shall profit by it most, we shall gather from it the 
 greatest fruit, and it is thus that it will nourish our 
 
128 Of the Public Service of the Church. [part 
 
 souls most effectually with the Flesh and with the 
 Blood of Jesus Christ." 
 
 CHAPTER VIJI. 
 
 OF THE PUBLIC SERVICE OF THE CHUECH. 
 
 " If two of you shall agree on earth as touching any thing that 
 they shall ask, it shall be done for them of my Father which is 
 in heaven.^'' — Matt, xviii. 19. 
 
 It would be well if, in considering the various Ordi- 
 nances of Religion, we began by narrowly examining 
 their charter, as it exists in God's Holy Word. How 
 shall we ascertain their true character ? how shall we 
 know what we may expect from them, and what we 
 may not expect ? how, in short, shall we secure our- 
 selves against a false estimate of them, otherwise than 
 by looking into their original constitution *? The exact 
 limits of a patent or prerogative, granted by the gov- 
 ernment of a country to any individual, can only be 
 ascertained by consulting the terms of the patent. 
 Let the holder abstract from the public records, and 
 hide away the parchment on which those terms are 
 written, and there are then no powers which he may 
 not assume, on the general ^?^gue representation that 
 the patent is his. 
 
 The passage which stands at the head of this Lecture 
 contains the charter of Public Worship. The Church 
 has given to Public Worship divers forms of its own 
 devising ; but here we have, if I may so say, the raw 
 material, out of which all forms are manufactured. 
 Now from the examination of this charter, we will 
 seek, first, to ascertain the true theory of Public Wor- 
 
II.] Of the Public Service of the Church. 129 
 
 ship ; and then draw from that theory some practical 
 hints for the conduct of this devotional exercise. 
 
 It is not with any controversial object, for con 
 troversy is seldom edifying, but by way of clearly 
 defining the idea, that we say, at the outset, that in 
 the practice both of the Church of Eome, and of the 
 Protestant sects in this country, we trace a degeneracy 
 from the Scriptural theory of Public Worship. Ex- 
 tremes continually meet ; and it is not a little remark- 
 able that both by Romanists and Dissenters the 
 functions of Public Worship are all devolved upon the 
 clergy, — whether priest or officiating minister, — and 
 the people take, I do not say no part, but no common 
 part with him; The Mass is the chief office of the 
 Roman Church ; at which even those who do not com- 
 municate assist, as it is called, every Sunday. In what 
 does this assistance consist^ The question may be 
 answered by examining the books of devotion recom- 
 mended and used at the Mass. It will be found, on 
 looking into such books, that the idea of the con- 
 gregation's praying as one body, — using the minister 
 as their mouthpiece, and signifying their assent to him 
 by occasional responds, — is, if not eliminated, very 
 much obscured. The priest is doing one act, supposed 
 to be sacrificial, to the effectiveness of which the con- 
 gregation can contribute nothing; and, while he is 
 doing it, the people are furnished with separate de- 
 votions appropriate to the several stages of it, which 
 each person recites secretly. The priest and they are 
 not asking the same thing at the same time ; and the 
 only agreement which there is in their petitions stands 
 in place and time, — in the fact that they are offered in 
 the sa^e church at the same hour. Nay it might 
 happen that several of the worshippers should use 
 
130 Of the Public Service of the Church. [paet 
 
 different books of devotions on the Mass, even as with 
 us different members of the congregation bring with 
 them different books of devotion on the Holy Com- 
 munion ; and that thus two persons, kneeling side by 
 side, might be so far fi'om agreeing in what they ask, 
 as to be offering two different petitions at the same 
 moment. If the principle were carried out to an ex- 
 treme, no two members of the congregation would be 
 praying for exactly the same thing ; and Public Prayer 
 M'^OLild resolve itself into a series of private prayers 
 said secretly in 2yublic. But the truth is, that Private 
 Prayer and Public Prayer are wholly different things, 
 separated from one another by a much deeper dis- 
 tinction than the mere accident that the one is offered 
 in the chamber, the other in the face of the Church. 
 Their scriptural charters proclaim that they are Ordi- 
 nances differently constituted. The charter of Private 
 Prayer runs thus : " Thou, when thou pray est, enter 
 into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door," — 
 exclusion of the world from the thoughts, if not from 
 the place, is an essential, — "pray to thy Father which 
 is in secret ; and thy Father, which seeth in secret, 
 shall reward thee openly." The charter of Public 
 Prayer, on the other hand, runs thus : " If two of you 
 shall agree on earth as touching any thing that they 
 shall ask, it shall be done for them of my Father w^hich 
 is in heaven." Agreement in the petition (not neces- 
 sarily, as I understand it, agreement in the place or 
 time of offering the petition, though that is both natu- 
 ral and proper) is an essential of this sort of prayer, 
 so that if you remove this agreement, the prayer ceases 
 to be Public Prayer at all. It ' is not the resorting to 
 the same House of Prayer, it is not the being side by 
 side with one's neighbour in bodily presence, but it is 
 
II.] Of the Public Service of the Church. 131 
 
 the mental and cordial agreement with him as to what 
 we shall ask, which constitutes the prayer public. De- 
 velope this idea a little further, and you will arrive at 
 the conclusion, which is as rational as it is scriptural, 
 that Private Prayer touches and deals with the relations 
 of the individual to God, those relations to which no 
 other heart than his own is privy, his secret sins, trials, 
 struggles, success ; whereas Public Prayer embraces 
 his relations as a member of the Church, not only to 
 the Head of the Church, but also to the other members. 
 In the one, there can usually be no agreement, by rea- 
 son of the diversity of characters and wants. In the 
 other we approach God as a Society, incorporated by 
 the royal charter of His Son, having an understanding 
 with other members as to our wants and petitions, and 
 framing them in language so general as to meet the ne- 
 cessities of all. To use an illustration, Private Prayer 
 is the exhibition of a biography to God ; Public Pray- 
 er, the exhibition of a history. A biography is a dis- 
 tinct thing from a history. The one presents the indi- 
 vidual in the private sentiments which actuate him ; the 
 other in his public enterprises, as a member of the body 
 politic. And on account of this difference of character, 
 no collection of biographies of any period would form 
 a history of the period, any more than the aggregate 
 of private devotions said in public constitutes public 
 devotion. At the same time it must be admitted that, 
 just as biograj^ies mention occasionally the public ex- 
 ploits of their subjects, and histories sometimes delineate 
 the private characters of public men, so Public Prayer 
 and Private Prayer will occasionally trench upon the 
 strict provinces of one another, — as when in his closet 
 a man intercedes for the whole Church, or as when in 
 the congregation some passage of the Liturgy comes 
 
132 Of the Public Service of the Church. [paet 
 
 home to our own present wants with a peculiar force 
 and appropriateness. Suffice it that, generally speak 
 ing, the provinces of the two are distinct. We may 
 not press any distinction too hard. 
 
 Turning now to the Protestant sects ; does their 
 practice realize better the true ideal of Public Worship 
 than that of Romanists % We hold it to be at least a 
 nearer approach to the true idea ; for the theory of all 
 Protestant Worship certainly is, that there shall be 
 agreement as to the things asked for, that minister and 
 people shall join in the same petitions. But how can 
 such agreement be effectually secured in the absence of 
 a Liturgy, or form previously prepared, unless the pas- 
 tor and congregation should meet before Divine Ser- 
 vice, and come to some understanding as to the substance 
 of their petitions ; a course which, if not impractica- 
 ble, has probably never been attempted ? In extem- 
 pore prayer it is out of the question that the people 
 can know what the minister is about to pray for : when 
 he has uttered his petition, they may, of course, give 
 their mental and cordial assent to it, and doubtless 
 devout Dissenters, of which there are numbers, endeav- 
 our to do so ; but before this mental process, which 
 consists of first taking in the petition with the mind, 
 and then assimilating it with the will, is well finished, 
 the minister has passed on to another petition, faster 
 than the worshipper can follow, and the latter soon 
 finds that there is no way of really joinitig, but by lis- 
 tening, as he would to a Sermon, and giving a genei-al 
 assert to the contents of the prayer by means of the 
 Amen at the end. On the other hand, a Liturgy, if 
 seriously and intelligently used, nccessai-ily secures ex- 
 act agreement among the worshippers as to the things 
 sued for ; nay, determines even the form in which each 
 
II.] Of the Public Service of the Church. 133 
 
 supplication shall present itself to the minds of all. 
 There are, we believe, many other advantages accruing 
 to a Liturgy like ours, which are beside the purpose of 
 the present argument. We prize our Prayer Book for 
 its intrinsic beauty, for its chaste fervour, for its primi- 
 tive simplicity, for its close harmony with Scripture, for 
 the way in which it fences us against false doctrine ; but 
 the fundamental advantage of a Liturgy, merely as a 
 Liturgy, is this, that it secures, far more than any ex- 
 tempore prayer can do, that agreement in the things 
 asked for, which is part of the charter of Public Prayer, 
 and so grounds the act of worship on Christ's own 
 Word of Promise : " If two of you shall agree on 
 earth as touching any thing that they shall ask, it shall 
 be done for them of my Father which is in heaven." 
 
 We have canvassed freely the defective theories of 
 Public Worship, maintained by those who are opposed 
 to us on either side ; but it is in no spirit of boastful- 
 ness that we have done so, nor with any desire to con- 
 ceal our own faults, which are both patent and abun- 
 dant. The truer and more Scriptural our Church's theory 
 of Public Worship is, the more cause have we for hu- 
 miliation, that \n practice wo, so grievously fall short of 
 it. It is true that we have every security, which mere 
 rule and system can give us, for agreement in the sub- 
 stance of our petitions ; but agreement is after all a 
 matter of the mind and heart, and cannot be prescrib- 
 ed by rule or system. Without such cordial agree- 
 ment, the most beautiful Liturgy in the world soon de- 
 generates into a dreary and formal recitation, lacking 
 both the reality of the Eoman's secret devotion, and 
 the vivacity and freshness of the Dissenter's extempore 
 prayer. We might, if we duly prized and properly 
 
134 Of the Public Service of the Church. [paet 
 
 used our advantages, make our churches the very gate 
 of Heaven to every devout soul ; as it is, the felt for- 
 malism of the Service in many of them, (for forma- 
 lism is a thing felt by instinct,) rather chills and throws 
 back the energies of spiritual life. Where is the rem- 
 edy to be sought 1 In the efforts of individuals to bring 
 about a better state of things. In vain do we declaim 
 against the Church of our day in the abstract. The 
 Church is composed of individual members, upon each 
 of whom rests his own portion of the blame and re- 
 sponsibility ; it is I, and you, Eeader, who are in fault. 
 If we are minded for the future to do justice to the 
 system of our Church, and bring out the beauty of its 
 theory, let us resolve first, each one for himself, to do 
 'what in us lies to contribute to such a result. And let 
 us consider whether the following hints, all founded on 
 the charter of Public Prayer already quoted, may not 
 be of service to us. 
 
 1. Let us seek to imcler stand the Liturgy of the 
 Church. If agreement in our petitions is to be secured 
 by the use of it, it is evident that the worshippers 
 must, each one for himself, bring some considerable 
 portion of their minds to it, before they come to Church. 
 The Morning and Evening Prayer, indeed, are more or 
 less familiarized to our ears by constant repetition ; but 
 then familiarity with the sound is a totally different 
 thing (as a child's knowledge of the Catechism proves) 
 from intelligent appreciation of the sense — nay, is prob- 
 ably more or less of a hindrance to that intelligent ap- 
 preciation. Words got by heart are foolishly sup- 
 posed to be thoroughly mastered, whereas all that 
 we have secured of them is the rhythm and the 
 run of the style, and the meaning, proteus-like, has 
 given us the slip. How many Churchmen have ever 
 
n.] Of the Public Service of the Church. 135 
 
 made the various petitions of the Morning and Even- 
 ing Prayer a subject of thought, — who yet know 
 the Service quite well enough superficially, to catch 
 up and fling abroad certain captious popular objec- 
 tions to parts of it 1 And in the Occasional Services, 
 the Christening, the Wedding, or the Burial, though 
 the first of these have all the dignity and all the 
 efficacy of a sacrament, and the two last are of a na- 
 ture to enlist peculiarly our personal feelings ; where 
 is the man who seriously asks himself, before he goes 
 to Church, what are the blessings for which he is about 
 to sue ? Yet surely we must at least ask ourselves this 
 question, if we would avail ourselves of the opportunity 
 of agreement which our Liturgy affords, and so avail 
 ourselves of our Lord's Promise to united Prayer. We 
 must think about our Prayer Books, as well as about 
 our Bibles, if we are to profit by them. The real 
 action of a man's own mind upon the Liturgy would be 
 worth a great deal of book learning. However, if 
 explanation and comment be • required, by those who 
 wish to study the subject chiefly in its devotional 
 aspect, Dean Comber supplies plentiful and wholesome 
 matter ; and for those who desire something less prolix 
 and less expensive than the works of Comber, Shepherd 
 on the Common Prayer may be found suitable.* It 
 would be one great point (and I mention it, because in 
 all studies a definite and circumscribed aim is of great 
 importance) to make the Psalms thoroughly available 
 in Public Devotion, — to say them, or sing them, with 
 more of understanding, as well as more of spirit, than 
 heretofore. With persons who are only moderately 
 
 * Also Hallam on the Morning Prayer, and Coxc's Thoughts on 
 the Services. 
 
ioG Of the Public Service of the Church. [part 
 
 acquainted with Divinity, some commentary will pro- 
 bably be found necessary for this purpose, and Bishop 
 Home's is perhaps the best that can be recommended. 
 I may add that it is a great clue to the right devo- 
 tional use of those Psalms, which manifestly refer to 
 Christ, to remember, while saying or singing them, 
 that we are one with Him ; and that we repeat them 
 in Church as being identified with Him in God's sight 
 ■ — " members of His Body, of His Flesh, and of His 
 Bones ;" not as if we were .reading mere instructive 
 lessons. 
 
 2. Do not allow Public Worship to degenerate into 
 a mere saying of your private prayers in Church. Set 
 yourselves against this selfish and narrowing tendency • 
 for it rather defeats the end of the Ordinance. Think 
 of the many others who are around you at Public 
 Worship, of their sins, trials, wants, wishes, mercies, — 
 trying to throw yourself into their case. Be you pray- 
 ing and giving thanks for them, while they are pray- 
 ing and giving thanks ^r you ; this will constitute a 
 sweet agreement, a beautiful symphony, in the ears of 
 the Most High. Too many Christians, good and pious 
 in the main, go to Church with this idea working in 
 their minds : " I go to ask for what I myself want, and 
 to' give thanks for what I myself have received, and I 
 do not busy myself with other people." Then you 
 might nearly as well stay at home. The closet is the 
 place for pouring out the heart before God, and laying 
 down the secret burdens at the Throne of Grace. The 
 Church is the place for the intercommunion of Saints 
 with one another, and of all with God. Hence the 
 great comprehensiveness of the terms in which our 
 Confession and Thanksgiving are drawn up. They are 
 expressly framed to cover all cases. 
 
II.] Of the Public Service of the Church. 137 
 
 3. Let not the outward expression of agreement be 
 wanting ; or, or in other words, be careful to make in an 
 audible voice all the responses prescribed by the Church. 
 This may seem a slight matter in itself; but it really 
 rests upon profounder principles than we are apt to im- 
 agine. In the first place, the audible respond is a val- 
 uable protest in favour of the undoubted scriptural truth, 
 that all Christians are, in virtue of their Baptism, priests, 
 and that all therefore are bound to join and bear their 
 part in the spiritual sacrifices which are offered to God 
 in His Church. The practice of Romanists and Dissen- 
 ters, by which the clergy or officials recite the whole Of- 
 fice, obscures this precious and important truth ; our 
 practice as Churchmen ought to bear testimony to it. 
 But besides this, there is in us, our nature being com- 
 posite, a strange mysterious sympathy between the 
 outward and the inward, which makes us dependent 
 for the life and energy of our spirits upon the little 
 outward symptoms and accidents of our position. Our 
 bodies expand or contract according to the temperature 
 of the atmosphere which surrounds them ; and our 
 minds in a spiritual atmosphere, which makes itself 
 felt in just the same subtle and delicate way as the 
 natural atmosphere, observe the same law. If persons 
 around us in the congregation are merely silent auditors 
 of the Service, not active participitators in it : much 
 more, if they are careless, slovenly, and indevout, our 
 own devotion is instantaneously chilled, and, as it were, 
 thrown inward. If, on the other hand, they have all 
 the appearance of earnest worshippers, devotion soon 
 stirs and wakens up in our own heart, much as a frozen 
 snake will move, and uncoil itself, and rear its crest, 
 when brought near the fire. Throw, then, your con- 
 tribution of heart, and soul, and sympathy into the 
 
138 Of the Public Service of the Church, [pakt 
 
 Service of the Church, by making the responses simply, 
 and sincerely, in your natural voice. Berridge seems 
 to have understood well the great charm of congre- 
 gational worship, when he thus writes respecting the 
 mutual salutation of the priest and people, as given in 
 his own little Church at Everton : 
 
 " When I say, ' The Lord be with you,' I love to 
 hear their murmur of response breaking forth from 
 all corners of the Church, ' And with thy spirit.' It 
 reminds me of those words of the Revelation descrip- 
 tive of the worship of the redeemed at the marriage 
 supper of the Lamb : ' I heard as it were the voice of a 
 great multitude, and as the voice of many waters, and 
 as the voice of many thunderings, saying, Alleluia ! for 
 the Lord God omnipotent reigneth.' The Dissenters 
 have nothing to compare with it." 
 
 It should be our ambition to bring the worship of 
 the Church Militant into as close a resemblance with 
 that of the Church Triumphant as our circumstances 
 will admit. To this great result each one may con- 
 tribute something by bringing to Church a thoughtful 
 and prepared mind, a devout heart, and a humble voice. 
 Let but a few worshippers do this, and oftener than we 
 think we shall seem to intercept an echo of that sinless 
 and perfect Worship which is ever carried on above. 
 
 We-have spoken of the agreement of the members 
 of Christ's Body, and that which gives its character to 
 Public Worship. But what are the members without 
 the Head ? Only so many bricks of an arch without 
 a key-stone. There can be no agreement without the 
 Head: for it is the Head which holds the members 
 together, not in unity only, but in existence. Not 
 therefore without a very profound connection of thought 
 does Our Lord thus complete the passage, upon which 
 
n.] Of the Public Service of the Church. 139 
 
 ^ve have been founding our remarks : "If two of you 
 shall agree on earth as touching any thing that they 
 shall ask, it shall be done for them of My Father which 
 is in Heaven. For where two or three are gathered 
 together in My Name, there am I in the midst of 
 them." 
 
 There is great significance in the " For." He would 
 have us to understand that it is His Presence in the 
 midst of the two or three gathered together in His 
 Name, which lends all the efficacy to their petitions. 
 The High Priest, He would say, is in the midst of the 
 worshippers, whose functions of Atonement and Inter- 
 cession are the alone procuring cause of the acceptance 
 of their prayers. Then our last practical recommenda- 
 tion shall be that, as in Private Prayer our thoughts 
 are turned to that God who seeth in secret, so in Public 
 Worship we should seek to realize a rather more de- 
 finite conception of the Presence of the Incarnate God. 
 The human presence visibly around us in the Church 
 is the pledge, the token, the Sacrament of His. He is 
 among them in all the sympathies of His Humanity, 
 in all the glories of His Divinity, in all the precious 
 virtues of His Mediatorial Work. " And it will be found 
 useful, before the commencement of the Service, and at 
 any of the necessary breaks which occur in the course 
 of it, to occupy the mind with the thought of His 
 Presence. The apprehension of it, and nothing short 
 of the apprehension of it, will impart to public Worship) 
 a mingled sweetness and solemnity, which will con- 
 strain us to exclaim. with the Psalmist: " How amiable 
 are Thy tabernacles, O Lord of Hosts ! My soul 
 longeth, yea, even fainteth for the courts of the Lord. 
 Blessed are they that d^vell in Thy house : they will be 
 still praising Thee." 
 
140 On Self-Recollectedness [paet 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ON SELF-EECOLLEGTEDNESS AND EJACULATOEY 
 PEAYEE. 
 
 '■'■ Pray without ceasing.^'' — 1 TiiESS. Y. 13. 
 
 The Apostle bids us " pray without ceasing." Yet of 
 our Blessed Lord, the great model, as of every other 
 virtue, so also of Prayer, it is expressly said by the 
 Evangelist St. Luke that, " as He was praying in a 
 certain place, He ceased^ The precept and the example 
 are capable of an easy reconciliation. When it is said 
 that Christ ceased from prayer, it is meant that He 
 ceased from stated prayer, from prayer offered probably 
 upon his knees. When St. Paul exhorts us to " pray 
 without ceasing" he means that we should maintain 
 unbroken the soul's communion with God. 
 
 Prayer is to be regarded not only as a distinct 
 exercise of Religion, for which its own time must be 
 set apart, but as a process woven into the texture 
 of the Christian's mind, and extending through the 
 length and breadth of his life. Like the golden thread 
 in a tissue, it frequently disappears beneath the com- 
 mon threads. It disappears, and is hidden from the 
 eye ; yet nevertheless, it is substantially there, like a 
 stream running underground for a certain period of its 
 course. Suddenly, the thread emerges into sight again 
 on the upper surface of the tissue, and suddenly again 
 disappears ; and thus it penetrates the whole texture, 
 although occasionally hidden. This is a very just illus- 
 tration of the matter in hand. Look from without 
 upon the Christian's life, and you will see divers dccu- 
 
II.] and Ejaculatory Prayer. 141 
 
 pations and employments, many of which, it may be, 
 call for the exercise of his mind. But beneath the 
 mind's surface there is an undercurrent, a golden thread 
 of Prayer, always there, though often latent and fre- 
 quently rising up to view not only in stated acts of 
 worship, but in holy ejaculations. We are now passing 
 from the consideration of the devotional life of the 
 Christian to that of his practical life, and we make 
 Ejaculatory Prayer the bridge to the latter part of our 
 great subject, because it is the exercise by which busi- 
 ness and devotion are interlaced one with another. 
 
 Prayer has been truly called the Christian's breath 
 ol life. The image applies to prayer in that broad sense 
 of the word in which the Apostle bids us pray without 
 ceasing, and we cannot gain a better insight into the 
 meaning of the precept, than by developing it a little. 
 Let us consider, then, the process of natural life. Ij; 
 is carried on by an unintermitted series of inhalations 
 and exhalations. The air is drawn inwards first, and 
 fills the lungs, and then thrown out again that fresh 
 may be taken in. 
 
 Similarly, Mental Prayer consists of two processes ; 
 recollecting or gathering up the mind, and breathing it 
 out towards God. The first is to enter into the closet 
 of the heart, and shut the door upon all but God. The 
 second is to pray to our Father, which is in secret. 
 
 1. To recollect or gather up the mind, is to summon 
 . it from its wanderings (as a shepherd drives home to 
 the fold a stray sheep), and to place it consciously in 
 Qod's Presence. God, though present every where, has 
 His special residence, as being a pure Spirit, in oui 
 minds. " In Him we live, and move, and have our 
 being." He is somewhere in the recesses of the soul, in 
 the springs of our existence, in that mysterious, dark, 
 
142 On Self-Recollectedness [pakt 
 
 cavernous region of our nature, where the wishes, 
 feelings, thoughts, emotions, take their earliest rise. I 
 say, it is a dark region this spirit of ours, or rather this 
 depth of our spirit ; even as the Holy of Holies, the 
 heart of the Temple, was perfectly dark, and not lighted 
 by a single window. Yet was there the majesty of the 
 Divine Presence in that small dark chamber, between 
 the outspread wings of the Cherubim. And, similarly, 
 the mind is a sanctuary, in the centre of which the Lord 
 sits enthroned, the lamp of the consciousness burning 
 before Him. All this is the case M'ith our minds, 
 whether we turn our thoughts to it or not. That we 
 should turn our thoughts to it, — that the mind should 
 ever and anon, both amid business and recreation, be 
 called home for a second or two to the Presence of God 
 dwelling in its dark recesses ; this is the meaning of 
 recollectedness of spirit. In days of hard and drudging 
 work, in days of boisterous merriment, in days of ex- 
 citement and anticipation, it is wonderfully refreshing 
 thus to recollect the mind, and place it consciously 
 under the eye of the Divine Majesty. It is like a 
 breath of sweet air coming across us in a foul and 
 crowded alley ; or a strain of sweet music stealing up 
 to our window, amid the din and discord of a populous 
 city. Pleasant it is upon the mountains to hear the 
 horn blow, as a signal to the lowing and bleating 
 cattle to withdraw from pasture, and be safely folded 
 for the night. We associate repose and security with 
 that strange wild blai»e of the rudely manufactured 
 trumpet ; and the association is most fascinating. And 
 when the Good Shepherd, by the inward whispers of 
 His voice, calls us to come back from the wanderings of 
 our thoughts and the excitements of our passions, into 
 our own spirits, there to be alone with God, and 
 
II.] and Ejaculatory Prayer. 143 
 
 consciously under His eye, can there fliil of being repose 
 and a halcyon calm in that call ? 
 
 2. The second process in the maintenance of animal 
 life is exhalation : the throwing out of the breath which 
 has been inhaled. 
 
 This corresponds in nature to what divines have 
 called JEjaculatory Prayer in the spiritual world. Ejac- 
 ulatory Prayer is Prayer darted up from the heart to 
 God, not at stated intervals, but in the course of our 
 daily occupations and amusements. The word " ejacu- 
 latory " is derived from the Latin word for* a dart or ar- 
 row, and there is an idea in it which one would be loath 
 indeed to forfeit. Imagine an English archer, strolling 
 through a forest in the old times of Crecy and Agin- 
 court, when the yeomen of this island were trained to 
 deliver their arrows with the same unfailing precision 
 as " a left-handed Gibeonite " discharging a stone bullet 
 from his sling. A bird rises in the brushwood under 
 his feet, a bird of gorgeous plumage or savoury flesh. 
 He takes an arrow from his quiver, draws his bow to 
 its full stretch, and sends the shaft after the bird with 
 the speed of lightning. Scarcely an instant elapses be- 
 fore his prey is at his feet. It has been struck with un- 
 erring aim in the critical part^and drops on the instant. 
 Very similar in the spiritual world is the force of what 
 is called Ejaculatory Prayer. ^The Christian catches 
 suddenly a glimpse of some blessing, deliverance, re- 
 lief, a longing after which is induced by the circum- 
 stances into which he is thrown. Presently it shall be 
 his. As the archer first draws the bow in towards 
 himself, so the Christian retires, by a momentary act of 
 recollection, into his own mind, and there realizes the 
 Presence of God; Then he launches one short, fervent 
 petition into the ear of that Awful Presence, throwing 
 
144 On Self-Recollecledness [paet 
 
 his whole soul into the request. And, lo, it is done ! 
 The blessing descends, prosecuted, overtaken, pierced, 
 fetched, down from the vault of Heaven by the winged 
 arrow of Prayer. Do you require Scriptural proof that 
 sucli immediate answers are occasionally vouchsafed, 
 even as regards mere earthly blessings, to " the effectual 
 fervent prayer of a righteous man % " The proof is ready 
 to our hand. Nehemiah, the cup-bearer, stood with a 
 sad countenance before Artaxerxes the king. The king 
 seemed offended by his sadness, unexplained as it was 
 by any cause wdth which the king could sympathize. 
 Nehemiah knew what Solomon had written long ago, 
 that " the king's wrath is as the roaring of a lion," — 
 that to oflend an oriental despot is all one with having 
 the scimitar suspended over one's head, or the bow- 
 string slung around one's neck. So " he was very sore 
 afraid." The king asked him expressly what would 
 content him. This made the case worse, for Nehemiah 
 had a large request to make, which might seem to the 
 king extravagant and presumptuous. The cup-bearer 
 was in a great strait. What did he do ? He entered 
 into the closet of his heart, and shut his door, and 
 prayed to his Father which was in secret. " I prayed," 
 says he, "to the God of heaven." To offer prayer un- 
 der such circumstances evinces command of mind. Not 
 mdny seconds can elaf>se between a question in conver- 
 sation and the answer to it ; and when one feels that 
 every thing is ^ispended on the success of the answer, 
 anxiety and excitement would conijbine to prevent the 
 offering of prayer in that brief interval. But Nehemiah 
 had disciplined his mind to watch and pray, and he 
 made the most of the interval, such as it was. It is 
 hardly conceivable that he can have said more mentally 
 than " Lord, help me according to my need ; " but then 
 
n.] • and Ejaculatory Prayer. 145 
 
 he said it with such a fervour of heart, and such an en- 
 tire faith that God would help him, that it was as suc- 
 cessful as if he had spent a whole night in prayer. He 
 candidly explained his wishes, in answer to the king ; 
 and down came the blessing immediately. The king's 
 cloudy brow cleared all of a sudden, like a storm in an 
 April day. He took the request very graciously, and 
 the all-important crisis for Nehemiah, and for the city 
 of his fathers, passed off well. " So it pleased the king 
 to send me." One short act of the mind, one strong 
 shaft of Prayer, had won the restoration of the Holy 
 City, the joy of the whole earth. 
 
 But Ejaculatory Prayer is to be used not simply in 
 difficulties, and when our affairs are in a critical posture, 
 though such circumstances most especially call for it, but 
 from time to time, all along the course of the day. But 
 here some difficulty will be felt by those who strive to 
 adopt the practice. 
 
 When the mind is under the pressure of anxiety of 
 alarm, then, of course, there is a ready supply of 
 materials for our petitions, and the only difficulty is the 
 attainment of sufficient presence of mind to offer them. 
 The compilers of our Liturgy, as feeling, I suppose, 
 that in extraordinary emergencies this presence of mind 
 soon deserts ordinary men, and that in such a case 
 forms might steady the mind, and help it forward in 
 the direction in which it wished to travel, have supplied 
 in " The Forms of Prayer to be used at Sea," certain 
 ejaculations for individuals, under the circumstances of 
 a sea-fight or a storm, which, like all other parts of the 
 Liturgy, are simple and appropriate, and which should 
 be mentioned here, because they form our Church's 
 testimony to the value and importance of Ejaculatory 
 Prayer ; but in common and uneventful life the mind 
 
146 On Self-Recollectedness • [paet 
 
 will often experience a want of topics for this sort of 
 prayer, and without a store of such topics it will be 
 barren, and feel no spontaneity or freedom in the exer- 
 cise. A passage of Scripture, selected from our morn- 
 ing's reading, or some one event in the history of Our 
 Lord, particularly in the history of His passion, may 
 often prove serviceable in supplying this need. On 
 turning over at leisure moments the incident or the pas- 
 sage in our minds, the fire will kindle, and we shall 
 speak, if not with our tongues,- yet with our hearts, to 
 God. One great master of devotion recommends us, 
 after our morning meditation, to select some one thought 
 which has most pleased and interested us, and to carry 
 it away with us for our spiritual refreshment in the in- 
 tervals of business ; "as a man," he says, " does not 
 quit a pleasant garden, until he has gathered a nose- 
 gay, with the scent of which he may refresh himself 
 during the day." It should be added that the great 
 repertory for ejaculations, to which every servant of 
 God has resorted for ages, sure to find something there 
 congenial to his wants, and coming home with peculiar 
 power to his heart, is the Psalter, or Book of Psalms. 
 Those who are ambitious of leading the devout life 
 should have a large portion of the Psalms at the dispo- 
 sal of their memory. 
 
 It may be asked, in conclusion, whether, if constant 
 mental Prayer be faithfully maintained, stated Prayer 
 might not be altogether dispensed with. Looking at 
 .our great Exemplar, we answer somewhat positively, 
 No. Our Blessed Lord's human soul breathed the 
 atmosphere of habitual Prayer. He prayed without 
 ceasing, in the length and breadth of that precept. Yet 
 did He not dispense with stated seasons of Prayer. 
 Dispense with them ! He continued one whole night in 
 
n.] and Ejaculatory Prayer. 147 
 
 prayer to God. Though His human heart was with 
 God through all the busiest day, yet at the close of 
 that day, when He had dismissed the multitudes. He 
 retired to the mountain-summit to engage in solitary 
 stated prayer, afar from the hum of men and the tur- 
 moils of the earth. What does such an example prove, 
 but that we may not exonerate ourselves from direct 
 acts of worship, on the plea that both mind and heart 
 have been seeking God all day long 1 We have said, 
 indeed, and say again, that Prayer is the act of spiri- 
 tual respiration ; — that true Prayer can no more be 
 limited to certain hours, than respiration can. Yet 
 even the image itself does not warrant us in thinking 
 lightly of the virtue of stated Prayer. It is true, 
 indeed, that life can be supported even in the populous 
 market, in the crowded street, nay, in the worst ven- 
 tilated alleys, so long as respiration continues ; but 
 what a source of health and strength would the poor 
 overwrought artisan find, if he could resort now and 
 then to the transparent air of the open country, unde- 
 filed by smoke, to the purple-heathered down, where 
 sweet gales fan the cheek, or to the margin of the 
 ocean, over whose surface careers the invigorating 
 wind ! In spots like these we not only breathe, but 
 breathe easily, freely, and spontaneously ; the mere 
 process of animal life is a delight to us, and with every 
 breath we drink in health. Such is the effect of an 
 hour of stated Prayer after a day busily, yet devoutly 
 spent. That hour wonderfully recruits the energies of 
 the soul which human infirmity has caused, to flag ; and 
 if we cannot say with truth, that such an hour is abso- 
 lutely necessary to spiritual existence, yet we can say 
 thait it is absolutely necessary to spiritual health and 
 well-being. 
 
148 On Self'Recollectedness [paet 
 
 In concluding the second part of our Thoughts on 
 Personal Religion, which has been occupied with the 
 devotional exercises of the Christian, we venture to ex- 
 press the hope that there has been a real endeavour on 
 the part of some at least of our readers to turn these 
 counsels into practice. We set out with the observa- 
 tion that modern preaching addresses itself almost ex- 
 clusively to stimulate the conscience, and overlooks the 
 humbler but equally necessary work of guiding it, — so 
 that the quiet edification of well-disposed Christians, 
 the bringing them on to the measure of the stature of 
 the fulness of Christ, is often sacrificed to the conver- 
 sion of evil livers. In these pages we have been at- 
 tempting (in a humble way) a movement in the oppo- 
 site direction. It is plain, however, that the movement 
 must fail, unless the readers co-operate with the writer, 
 not so much by passively submitting themselves to im- 
 pressions, as by active concurrence with his advice. 
 It has been our purpose, and we hope we have made it 
 apparent that it is our purpose, not so much to give 
 thoughts which may arouse, as to make recommenda- 
 tions which may be tried. My reader, have you tried 
 them? And if so, are you already, it may be, dis- 
 pirited by a sense of failure 1 Take courage, in the 
 name of Jesus Christ, and once again assault the great 
 task of spirituality of mind. AVas any solid and grand 
 attainment ever yet made without repeated failures ? 
 Did ever any one climb to the pinnacle of human am- 
 bition without repeated checks, and hindrances, and 
 disappointments, and manifold changes of worldly tac- 
 tics 1 And is it to be imagined that a man can climb 
 the Jacob's ladder of sanctity, whereupon angels are 
 continually passing one another on Divine errands, add- 
 ing " to his fliith virtue, and to virtue knowledge, and 
 
n.] and Ejaculatory Prayer. 149 
 
 to knowledge temperance, and to temperance patience, 
 and to patience godliness, and to godliness brotherly 
 kindness, and to brotherly kindness charity," without a 
 resolute energy of will, and a buoyancy of spirit which 
 is determined to succeed ? JFor what other purpose 
 was the Saviour's Blood shed, and the Saviour's Grace 
 poured forth, but to create such an energy % Forward, 
 then, warriors of the Cross, in the courage which is 
 ministered by that Blood and that Grace. Where the 
 will is stedfast, and the heart is whole with God, ground 
 is gained unconsciously to ourselves. This one thing 
 do, " forgetting those things which are behind, and 
 reaching forth unto those things which are before, press 
 towards the mark for the prize of the high calling of 
 God in Christ Jesus." And be your motto that of 
 Gideon's wearied but undaunted fcoop, — " Faint, yet 
 
PART III. 
 THE PEACTICAL LIFE. 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 WHAT HOLDS US BACK. 
 
 " Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling. For it is 
 God which worketh in you both to will and to do of his good 
 pleasured — Phil. ii. 12, 13. 
 
 The present little Treatise, upon the third part of 
 which we are now about to enter, is occupied with 
 giving certain practical directions to those who, not 
 content with passively receiving religious impressions, 
 desire to grow in grace and in the knowledge of our 
 Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. We are making an 
 extended comment upon that exhortation of St. Peter : 
 " And beside this," (beside that purifying faith in 
 God's " exceeding great and precious promises," which 
 lies at the root of all true religion,) " giving all dili- 
 gence, add to your faith virtue ; and to virtue know- 
 ledge ; and to knowledge temperance ; and to tempe- 
 rance patience ; and to patience godliness ; and to god- 
 liness brotherly kindness ; and to brotherly kindness 
 charity." 
 
 Anxious for the success of what is being said, and 
 knowing that this success is entirely of a practical and 
 experimental character, we feel disposed at intervals to 
 turn round to our readers, and ask of them how they 
 are progressing % And if the answer should be, as in 
 some cases doubtless it will be, that they are making 
 no sensible progress at all, and that their efforts in 
 7* 
 
154 WTiat holds us back. [paet 
 
 the pursuit of holiness are continually baffled, and 
 meet with disappointment, we wish to take that confes- 
 sion as a symptom, — if the trial has had a fair space 
 of time allotted to it, — that something is wrong with 
 them, and to stop on our journey, and ask what that 
 wrong thing is. 
 
 Let this Chapter then be devoted to the inquiry. 
 What is it which often holds back those, who appear to 
 be earnest in " working out their own salvation ? " 
 And may God throw upon our minds that inward light 
 which alone can expose the error to our consciences, 
 and bring us into the path of truth. 
 
 Now the celebrated passage to the Philippians, to 
 which I have just referred, contains in itself the detec- 
 tion and exposure of the error. " Work out your own 
 salvation," writes the Apostle, " with fear and trem- 
 bling ; " intimating most assuredly, wiiatever Calvin 
 may say to the contrary, that the human will has a 
 certain part to play in the matter of salvation, and that 
 it must be played with all earnestness, yea, even with 
 an agonizing earnestness, " with fear and trembling ; " 
 but then he immediately subjoins, ^^for it is God that 
 worketh in you," intimating most assuredly, whatever 
 Arminius may say to the contrary, that we cannot 
 ourselves work in ourselves, or produce from our- 
 selves, a single one of the dispositions that constitute 
 holiness, — that the origin, progress, and maturity of 
 those dispositions is all of. free grace, just as entirely 
 as the forgiveness of sins is. It is, then, on this ground 
 we will look for our error, if so be we may find it. It 
 is more than likely, if we are hanging back in the 
 Christian course, either that we are not surrendering 
 our will honestly and unreservedly to God, to be and 
 to do as He bids us, and virtually saying, " I will not 
 
III.] What holds us back. 155 
 
 work at all, because it is God that worketh in me ;" 
 or, secondly, that, from a mistake as to the" nature 
 of sanctification, we are really looking to our own 
 miserable efforts to sanctify us — putting a round of 
 ordinances, and duties, and performances, into the place 
 of the Lord Jesus, and virtually saying, " It is I Avho 
 work in myself both to will and to do of God's good 
 pleasure." 
 
 By way of illustrating these contrary errors more 
 clearly, let us imagine the case of a patient placed under 
 a physician of most eminent skill, who has closely 
 studied similar cases, and heretofore infallibly restored 
 them by his treatment, — making no progress. Ee- 
 covery seems to be on the whole as far as when he 
 first consulted the physician ; and even if one day 
 there seems to be a little improvement, the next day 
 the hopes, to which that improvement gave rise, are 
 thrown back ; if symptoms are somewhat repressed, 
 there is every reason to believe that the malady is still 
 there. Now, supposing the physician's skill to be 
 abundantly competent to a radical cure, it is evident 
 that the non-recovery must spring from the patient's 
 never having fairly surrendered himself into the 
 physician's hands. And this want of an entire sur- 
 render may take one of two forms. Either the patient 
 may not implicitly follow the physician's orders ; or, 
 not having a full trust in him, and being persuaded of 
 the efficacy of certain other systems of medecine, he 
 may be giving those systems a trial side by side with 
 the course which physicians prescribe, and thereby 
 nullifying the efficacy of that course. The not follow- 
 ing the physician's prescriptions, or the following his 
 own theories as well, both may equally defeat his 
 recovery. 
 
156 What holds us back. [part 
 
 Another illustration, which, from the nature of it, is 
 even clearer still. — What are the conditions, which 
 alone could frustrate the progress upon a river of a 
 strong man and an expert rower, placed in a good and 
 swift boat, and furnished with oars *? Such an one 
 might either not use the oars at all, or use only one of 
 them. And the result in each case would be practically 
 much the same. In both cases the boat would drift 
 with the stream ; and the only difference would be, 
 that, when one oar was vigorously applied, the boat, in 
 addition to drifting, would move round and round in a 
 circle, and might perhaps for a while mock the rower 
 by the semblance of progress. In spiritual things 
 there are those who are utterly careless and godless — 
 dead alike to the claims of Religion, and to its hopes. 
 These are they who, launched upon the stream of life, 
 quietly drift down it, giving no thought to the life 
 which is to come after, and seeking only to gather the 
 few perishable flowers which grow upon the brink. 
 And, among persons of more serious mind, there are 
 those, who are willing indeed that Christ should do all 
 for them, but have never surrendered themselves to 
 Him to be and do all He requires. And there are 
 those, on the other hand, who have surrendered the 
 will to Christ, and are making efforts to obey Him : 
 but because they perceive not this simple truth, that 
 they cannot sanctify themselves, — that sanctification, 
 from first to last, like justification, must be wrought 
 for us by Him, — are constantly met by failures and 
 disappointments, which a simple trust in Him to do all 
 for them can alone remedy. Both these last are they 
 who are rowing with one oar, moving indeed, but 
 moving in a circle, and coming round always to the 
 same point from which they started, — deluding them- 
 
III.] What holds us back. 157 
 
 selves for a while, by the very fact of their motion, 
 with the idea that they are progressing ; and often 
 bitterly complaining, as soon as they are undeceived, 
 that they are making no way. And finally there are 
 those who are equally well contented to give all to 
 Christ which they have to give, (that is, their will,) 
 and to take all from Him which He has to give, 
 sanctification, and wisdom, as well as righteousness, 
 — ^who in one and the same act of faith have re- 
 nounced both self-will and self- trust. These are they 
 who are rowing with two oars, and so realizing a 
 true progress towards that haven where they would be. 
 Show me a man w^ho is both giving to Christ all he 
 has to give, that is, his will, and at the same time 
 taking from Christ all Christ has to give, which is, 
 a perfect salvation from sin's guilt, power, and con- 
 sequences ; or, as the Apostle expresses it, " wisdom, 
 and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemp- 
 tion;" and I will show you a man w^ho is growing 
 in grace, and advancing daily in meetness for the in- 
 heritance of the saints in light. And if we find our- 
 selves not thus growing and advancing, and yet are cer- 
 tainly well-disposed persons of some seriousness of 
 mind, it is, no doubt, that we are endeavouring to push 
 the boat forward with only one of the oars, to reach 
 that holiness without which no man shall see the Lord, 
 with trust in Christ alone, or with self-surrender alone. 
 Apply the other oar simultaneously, and the bark shall 
 at once begin to cleave the w\ater, as an arrow cleaves 
 the air, straightforward. 
 
 What I have said reduces itself to two very simple 
 axiomatic ^positions, practically, experimentally, and 
 really consistent with one another, even if in this life 
 we can never see their precise speculative adjustment. 
 
158 What holds us back. [pakt 
 
 1. We must give ourselves up to God, to be 
 sanctified. 
 
 2. We can by no possibility, — by no efforts, striv- 
 ings, prayers, penances whatever, — sanctify ourselves. 
 
 1. We must give ourselves ui^ to God, to be sanc- 
 tified. Have we ever done this 1 Have we done it 
 honestly and without reserving a single corner of the 
 heart ? or are we keeping back part of the price of the 
 land, like Ananias and Sapphira, and bringing only a 
 certain part, and laying it down at the feet of our 
 Heavenly Master, as if it were the whole 1 Ah ! He 
 sees through all disguises ; and His eyes, which are as 
 a flame of fire, immediately detect the insincerity of 
 our souls. And the awful punishment will be, that 
 He will not take us under His efficacious treatment, 
 unless we submit ourselves to Him unreservedly ; and 
 unless the Divine Physician treats us for sin, we shall 
 never recover of sin ; and unless we recover of sin, 
 unless the moral malady be stanched in us by the 
 Blood and Grace of Christ, — salvation is for us out of 
 the question. Indeed, salvation is mainly and essen- 
 tially from sin, — from sin itself in its guilt and power, 
 — and only accidentally from sin's consequences. 
 
 Ah, how many are there who content themselves 
 with lop-sided fiiith — trust without surrender ! But 
 the truth is, that a lop-sided faith is no faith at all. 
 The disposition called faith embraces God's commands 
 with obedience, as well as His promises with trust. 
 Abraham is the great Scriptural pattern of faith ; and 
 Abraham's faith appears no less in his obeying than in 
 his believing God. Where God's will takes the form 
 of a precept, Abraham docs it without a» moment's 
 hesitation ; where it takes the form of a promise, he 
 rests assured that there will be a fulfilment. God bids 
 
III.] What holds us back. 159 
 
 him leave his country and his kindred ; he leaves them. 
 God bids him slay his son ; he would have slain his 
 son, had not God interposed. God tells him that his 
 seed should be as the stars of heaven, when not only 
 had he no child, but when it was contrary to the course 
 of nature that he should be blest with offspring ; and 
 Abraham rests assured that it will be as God says. 
 God tells him that in Isaac shall his seed be called, and 
 Abraham believes it, even when called to offer up Isaac, 
 accounting (oh ! grand reach of faith, under that very 
 twilight dispensation !) that God was able to raise him 
 up even from the dead. That is the whole-hear tedness 
 both towards precept and promise, which God so much 
 approves, and which is called Faith. Is there, then, 
 aught which keeps us from an unreserved putting 
 ourselves at Christ's disposal ? Is it the fear of ridicule 
 or contempt from an irreligious circle? the fear of 
 being accounted over-strict, methodistical, puritanical, 
 or what not 1 Is the love of any sin so strong in us 
 that we cannot fairly put ourselves in Christ's hands 
 for treatment, saying, "Here am I, Lord, to do as 
 regards this sin whatsoever by Thy Spirit in my 
 conscience Thou shalt suggest ? " Is the surrender of 
 our substance a hard saying to us, as to the rich young 
 man in the Gospel 1 While we are willing to do many 
 things for Christ, and hear sermons gladly, are we 
 strongly disinclined to relinquish our grasp upon that 
 proportion of our income, to which an enlightened 
 conscience tells us that Christ has a fair claim"? Is 
 indolence mingled with cowardice an obstacle to effort, 
 as of old in the wilderness, when the people cried, 
 "The cities are great and walled up to heaven ; and, 
 moreover, we have seen the sons of the Anakims 
 there 1" Are we willing to have religious impressions 
 made upon us, but not willing to gird up our loins for 
 
160 What holds us back. [paet 
 
 an earnest wrestling-match with the powers of dark- 
 ness, not willing to apply our shoulder to the wheel 
 and move it out of the old cart-rut of bad habits 1 
 Probe your consciences with these and similar ques- 
 tions. To surrender himself from the very ground of 
 his heart to sanctification, is all that man can do in the 
 matter. Have you ever done it ? 
 
 2ndly, We entreat you to take with you through 
 this whole treatise, this other axiomatic and funda- 
 mental truth, thai man can by no possibility sanctify 
 himself. 
 
 We devoted a Chapter to this subject (Chap. III. 
 Part I.) in the Introductory Part of this work ; but it 
 is of such transcendent importance, and, in the active 
 pursuit of Holiness, so liable to be dropped out of mind, 
 that the reader must excuse us, if we here briefly re- 
 capitulate the argument of that Chapter. It was there 
 observed that men recognize, indeed, the Atonement as 
 being exclusively Christ's work, and the Forgiveness 
 of sins as His procuring and His free gift ; but they 
 entertain a notion that, after forgiveness, they are to 
 go and work out sanctification for themselves inde- 
 pendently of Christ's working in them, and, in the 
 ground of their heart, look to be sanctified by their 
 prayers, and their communions, and their watchfulness, 
 and their self-discipline, and their self-denials, and their 
 cultivation of good habits, which is just as great an 
 error as looking to be justified by these things. In 
 short, they have never understood the force of those 
 words; "Christ Jesus of God is made unto us not 
 righteousness only, but sanctification." W^e are justi 
 fied or forgiven simply by throwing ourselves upon 
 Christ for forgiveness, renouncing all merit in ourselves, 
 and looking to His Agony and Bloody Sweat, His 
 Cross and Passion. And in exactly the same way we 
 
III.] WTiai holds us back. 161 
 
 are sanctified by simple dependence upon Christ to 
 work in us by the Spirit every grace we need, by aban- 
 doning the treatment of ourselves for sin, and looking 
 to the good Physician out of His fulness to supply 
 such remedies and such virtues as will effectually make 
 us whole. It is most true indeed that heartfelt surren- 
 der of our.wills to the will of God, involves human ef- 
 fort in every shape which effort can scrip turally take; 
 but it is equall y true that human effort is no saviour, 
 and true also that the Saviour will not give to it, or 
 have us give to it, that honour which is exclusively 
 His. Blessed things are Prayer, and Sacraments, and 
 watchfulness, and rules of life, and self-discipline, and 
 self-denial, when they occupy their right place in the 
 spiritual system, as means, channels, and instruments ; 
 but if they be unduly magnified, so as to cover the 
 whole field of view ; if we for a moment allow our 
 minds to regard them as sources of Grace, and trust to 
 them to work in us sanctity, we shall be as utterly dis- 
 appointed in them, as the poor woman who had the is- 
 sue of blood was with the many physicians, from whom 
 she had suffered many things, but never brought away 
 a cure. Mark me, reader, our sanctification is in Christ, 
 not independent of Him, and therefore not to be had 
 independently. Touch his sacred Person in simple 
 fiiith that in Him doth all fulness dwell, — fulness 'of 
 light and love, of holy tempers, holy impulses, and of 
 all the fruits of the Spirit, — and the virtue which is in 
 Ilim shall instantly begin to flow, through the channel 
 which faith has opened, into your soul. This is His 
 own teaching, not ours, " Abide in me, and I in you. 
 As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, except it 
 abide in the vine ; no more can ye, except ye abide in 
 me. I am the vine, ye are the branches ; he that 
 
162 . What holds us back. [pari 
 
 abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth 
 much fruit : for without me " (separated from me) 
 '" ye can do nothing." " Ye can do nothing," — not ad- 
 vance a step in love, joy, or peace, or in any grace 
 which qualifies for Heaven. The righteousness of 
 sanctification is technically said by divines to be inher- 
 ent in us ; and the term is useful, as servincr to draw a 
 distinction between this and the righteousness of justi- 
 fication, which is imputed, and outside of us, — laid to 
 our account, without being in any sense ours ; but we 
 must not so understand the phrase as if righteousness 
 were inherent in us independently or apart from Christ. 
 The sap circulates through the living branch of the 
 vine, but not independently or apart from the root and 
 stock of the tree. Separated from the tree, the branch 
 has no life whatever, and is unable to put forth a sin- 
 gle bud or blossom. The sap in the branch is not from 
 or of the branch, it is only derivative, — drawn from 
 the living energies of the root and stem. And so the 
 Christian's holiness ; it is never held independently, but 
 derived from the fountain-head of holiness, and that 
 fountain-head is Christ. And what we have to do is to 
 keep open continually the communication between 
 Christ and the soul, by repeated exercises of the same 
 simple faith (or trust) in Him, which at first was the 
 instrument of our justification. We stretched forth 
 the hand of faith, and received out of Christ the forgive- 
 ness which He purchased for us ; we must stretch it 
 forth again, and again, and again, to receive that meet- 
 ness for glory which He gradually imparts. Without 
 holding this fundamental truth before our eyes, without 
 the most entire trust in Christ to work in us every 
 grace of the Christian character, and utter renunciation 
 of trust in ourselves, all our efforts in the pursuit of 
 
in.] What holds us back. 1G3 
 
 holiness will be only an unblessed toiling and moiling^ 
 — so much work, and worry, and fruitless striving, 
 without any appreciable result. Has your error lain 
 in this quarter 1 It is so with many really devoted 
 people, who have a character for knowledge in the 
 things of God. Many are the followers after holi- 
 ness, the secret of whose failure is all wrapped up in 
 those few words of the Apostle, " Not holding the 
 Head," and who need to be taken back to the first 
 rudiments of religious knowledge, and told by the Cat- 
 echist, " My good child, know that thou art not able to 
 do these things of thyself j nor to walk in the com- 
 mandments of God, and to serve Him, without His 
 special grace.'''' 
 
 We cannot bring this Chapter to a close without 
 pointing to the confirmation which the doctrine of it 
 derives from the Baptismal Covenant. 
 
 Observe, then, that Baptism is a covenant, in which 
 there are two contracting parties, God and the Cate- 
 chumen, both pledging themselves to certain conditions, 
 and both having a certain part of their own to perform. 
 This is very forcibly brought out by our Formularies, 
 both for the Baptism of Infants, and of Adults. In the 
 first place, on the part of the Catechumen, there is self-de- 
 dication, implying complete surrender of the will, nay, 
 of the man's whole self to God. He renounces (i.e. 
 declares war against) all sin, from whatsoever avenue 
 it may make its assault j he avows implicit belief of 
 all God says, and he puts himself entirely at God's bid- 
 ding, to " keep his holy will and commandments, and 
 walk in the same all the days of his life." It is very 
 important to remark, that it is not simply belief, but 
 also a preparedness of the wll, which he, if an adult, in 
 
164 What holds us bach. [pakt 
 
 his own person, if an infant, by his sureties, is required 
 to profess. The terms are by no means to be con- 
 strued as a promise that he will never sin, which would 
 be a rash and unwarrantable vow indeed ; but are ex- 
 actly equivalent to an act of self-surrender, and might 
 scripturally be represented thus : " I present my body 
 (this body, on which the seal of Holy Baptism is now 
 to be impressed) a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to 
 God, vrhich is my reasonable service." It is the Chris- 
 tian offering himself as a victim at God's altar, " Lo, I 
 come to do thy will, O God ! " 
 
 But is that the whole of Baptism ? By no means, 
 nor even the chief part of it. The victim must not 
 only be presented, but fire must fall from Heaven upon 
 it : there is God's part as well as man's part to be con- 
 sidered. There is a gift to be bestowed, as well as a 
 vow to be made, and the candidate himself cannot pos- 
 sibly do God's part ; it must be done for him, and up- 
 on him. No man ever heard of a person's baptizing 
 himself; that would be indeed an absurd impossibility ; 
 he may dedicate himself to God by an act of self-sur- 
 render, which some suppose to be the whole of Bap- 
 tisiji, but to be born of water and of the Spirit, " to be 
 received into Christ's holy Church, and be made a lively 
 member of the same," this is far above out of his reach. 
 The Church of his day, or rather Christ acting through 
 the Church, confers upon him Baptism, with its grace 
 and its gift, howsoever that gift may be defined. If he is 
 an infant at the time of receiving it, as we all were, 
 and Baptism is to be of the smallest avail to him ulti- 
 mately, he must realize his Baptism experimen- 
 tally, and that as to both parts of the contract : he 
 must now by his own act and deed surrender himself 
 utterly and unreservedly to God, which is the teaching 
 
Til.] Do all for God. 1G5 
 
 of Confirmation, although thousands of confirmed per- 
 sons have never done it ; and for his sanctification, his 
 growth in grace, his spiritual fruitfulness, his interior 
 qualifications for glory, he must look to Christ and 
 Christ alone, in whom by the Father's appointment 
 " all fulness dwells," using diligently the means, of 
 course, because Christ enjoins them, but not putting 
 the means in Christ's place. If he will not dedicate 
 himself, the Lord will not send down the fiery Baptism 
 of the Holy Ghost upon him : if he will dedicate him- 
 self, and will expect from the act of dedication the gift 
 of the Holy Ghost, he will find himself bitterly disap- 
 pointed ; but if he will both dedicate himself, and at 
 the same time look to Christ's fulness for the progres- 
 sive work ( f "sanctification, as well as for the completed 
 work of justification, then of Christ's fulness shall that 
 man receive, and " grace for grace." Holding the 
 Head, he shall have nourishment ministered through 
 the joints and bands of the appointed means, and in- 
 crease with the increase of God. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 DO ALL FOE GOD. 
 
 " And iohatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not 
 unto men.^^ — Col. iii. 23. 
 
 The practical life of the Christian, upon the considera- 
 tion of which we enter in this Chapter, comprehends 
 three distinct elements, on each of which distinct re- 
 commendations are needed, working, fighting, and suf- 
 fering. We have to do the will of God in our business ; 
 this is working. We have to oppose our bosom sin 
 and to resist tempt<ation ; this is fighting. We have, 
 
166 Do all for God. [pakt 
 
 finally, to endure with cheerfulness and submission 
 whatever cross the Lord Jesus pleases to lay upon us ; 
 this is suffering. And to be right in the practical de- 
 partment of the Christian life is summed up in these 
 three things, to work devoutly, to fight manfully, and 
 to suffer patiently. 
 
 Our present subject is, then, how we may work 
 devoutly. 
 
 When we remember that our destiny, as immortal 
 beings, is to live with our Lord, and with glorified 
 saints, and holy angels for ever; and that, in con- 
 sequence, any work which does not fit us for this 
 society must be a great impertinence, and comlteract 
 the main end of our existence, it is at first sight a very 
 alarming and distressing thought that the great bulk 
 of the things which most men do daily, are of the 
 earth, earthy. For example, how many pursuits and 
 professions, in a commercial country like this, have 
 reference to money,— that is to say, substituting the 
 Scripture phraseology for our common parlance, to 
 " the gold which perisheth " and to the " Mammon of 
 unrighteousness 1" But is it not true of all pursuits, 
 regular and irregular, with the exception only of 
 devotion, that they are of the earth, earthy 1 Does it 
 not hold good even of the pastoral work, so far as that 
 work has reference to the sin and ignorance which is in 
 fallen man 1 Must not every existing pursuit be in- 
 compatible with the heavenly state, for this simple 
 reason, that every one of them has reference to an im- 
 perfect state of things, largely alloyed with sin, igno- 
 rance, and sorrow 1 All professions and trades are in 
 fact remedial, destined to supply the defects of the 
 existing order ; and therefore, when that existing order 
 is no more, and when the order which supersedes it 
 
in.] Bo all for God. 167 
 
 proves to have no defects whatever, and excludes all 
 sin, all ignorance, and all sorrow, — the various occupa- 
 tions of this life must necessarily come to an end, must 
 die a natural death. And is there not something which 
 seems inappropriate, to say the least of it, in the cir- 
 cumstance that one, who is called by Baptism to the 
 kingdom and glcry of Almighty God, should, during 
 his short span of threescore years and ten, be either 
 preparing for, or engaged in, work which has no 
 reference to or bearing upon his Eternity, and which 
 will be swept away for ever, like so much litter, when 
 the Kingdom of Christ is finally and for ever set up 1 
 
 This inconsistency between worldly pursuits and a 
 heavenly calling has been deeply felt at all times by 
 the human mind. 
 
 It was just this feeling which, among other deep- 
 seated instincts of our nature, gave rise to Monasticism. 
 In their speculations on the eternal, future, men as- 
 sumed (what certainly we have no right to assume, and 
 what probably is false, judging from what we hear of 
 the angels) that there will be in the heavenly state no 
 occupation save that of Prayer and Praise. Then, 
 knowing from God's Word that the life of Heaven 
 ought to be begun, as indeed it ought, upon earth, 
 they concluded that the religious life upon earth (the 
 conventual life was always called " religious ") consisted 
 in a constant round of religious services, and directly 
 spiritual employments. Hymns, and prayers, and good 
 reading, and deep meditation were to be the business 
 of the day ; and all else, if any thing else were at- 
 tempted, (as it often was in the way of almsgiving, and 
 writing or illuminating manuscripts,) was to be a by- 
 work. Let us not rail at their mistake. It is by no 
 means so certain that we stand clear of it ourselves. 
 
168 Do all for Ood. [part 
 
 Have we never thrown out words on the same false 
 assumption, that a secular pursuit is an obstacle to 
 a heavenly mind ? What remark is more commonly 
 heard in conversation, than that such a young man, 
 being more seriously disposed than his brothers, is the 
 one pointed out for the Church, — meaning the Mi- 
 nistry ? And what does such a remark imply in the 
 mind of the person making it, but this very feeling, 
 that nothing but a sacred occupation sits suitably" on a 
 person who contemplates with seriousness the end for 
 which he was created 1 And we have heard the feeling 
 take more foolish and unguarded shapes than this. We 
 have heard well-meant addresses at Missionary meet- 
 ings, which, — from the undoubtedly true position that 
 the work of a Missionary, as being nearest to that of 
 an Apostle, is the highest upon earth, — really almost 
 infer, or, at all events, leave upon the minds of the 
 hearers the impression, that every one should abandon 
 his present calling, and go forth to preach the Kingdom 
 of God in the dark places of the earth. 
 
 As the pushing a false theory to its extreme point 
 is one way of exhibiting its fallacy, let us for a moment 
 suppose it to be God's will that all Christians should 
 have a directly spiritual pursuit. The system of society 
 must in that case be brought to a dead lock ; for who 
 knows not that the system is founded upon division of 
 labour ; and upon the very simple principle that one 
 man shall produce what his neighbour wants, and take 
 in exchange what his neighbour produces? The fair 
 fabric of civilization is all built upon this principle, as 
 its fundamental law. Take away the variety of voca- 
 tions, reduce all callings to those of the monk, the 
 priest, or the missionary, and you undermine civiliza- 
 tion, or, in other words, society lapses again into 
 
III.] Do all for God. 169 
 
 barbarism. And this assuredly cannot be the will of 
 Him, who has implanted in the human mind those 
 instincts which develope themselves in civilization. 
 But if this cannot be the will of God, if common 
 sense, without calling in the aid of Scripture, repu- 
 diates such an hypothesis, then it must be His will 
 (for there is no alternative) that different men should 
 follow different pursuits, according to the station in 
 which they are born, the gifts they possess, the cir- 
 cumstances in which they find themselves. Bring 
 it down to individual cases, and the truth still holds. 
 It is still the will of God that this man should ply 
 a humble craft ; that this other should have the 
 duties entailed by broad acres and large property ; 
 that a third should go to the desk, and sit behind a 
 counter all his days; that a fourth should give his time 
 to the restoration of sick patients ; that a fifth should 
 fight the battles of his country. Now if this is God's 
 will in each individual case, no good, but the greatest 
 harm, would ensue from an individual's infringing 
 that will ; from his thrusting himself out of his own 
 vocation into one which seems to be higher and more 
 dignified. Each man's wisdom and happiness must 
 consist in doing, as well as his faculties will admit, the 
 work which God sets him. So thought and so wrote 
 (both thinking and writing by immediate Inspiration) 
 the great Apostle of the Gentiles. He did not counsel 
 his converts to join himself and St. Barnabas in their 
 missionary tours; but while reminding them ever and 
 anon that the great system of Society would ere long 
 run down and come to an end, — ringing? ever and anon 
 the great funeral knell of the world, " the fashion of this 
 world passeth away," — he told them distinctly and 
 emphatically that so long as the system still worked 
 8 
 
170 Do all for God. [pakt 
 
 on, each one was to retain his position in it. " Let 
 every man abide in the same calling, wherein he was 
 called. " Brethren, let every man, wherein he is called, 
 therein abide with God." 
 
 Ah ! " with God." Those words wrap up the secret 
 of which we are in search, the secret by which we may 
 do God service in our daily business, and convert the 
 most secular occupation, so long as it be an innocent 
 one, into fine gold of the altar. 
 
 How then may we abide with God in the work of 
 our calling 1 The answer (or rather that portion of it, 
 for which alone we can find space in this Chapter) is, 
 by throwing into the work an holy and pure intention. 
 
 It is clear that intention is to our actions what the 
 soul is to the body ; and that, just as it is the soul and 
 not the body which makes us moral agents, so it is the 
 motive or intention, with which a thing is done, which 
 gives to the action a moral character. To kill a man 
 in wrath or malice prepense, is murder ; but to kill 
 him accidentally by an action which w^e could not 
 possibly foresee w^ould do him harm, and which we 
 meant to benefit him (as where one might administer 
 poison to his friend by mistake for medicine), is so far 
 from being murder, that it is no sin at all. Again, a 
 good and holy work, such as Prayer, becomes hypocrisy, 
 if done in a false Pharisaical spirit, to have praise of 
 men. 
 
 This point then being admitted, — that it is the in- 
 I tention which constitutes an action good or bad, — we 
 / proceed to remark that the great bulk of work done in 
 this busy bustling life is not done with any intention 
 whatever of complying with the Will, or furthering the 
 Service of Almighty God. The many who run to and 
 fro from morning to evening in the work of their calling 
 
III.] Do all for God. 171 
 
 think nothing of subserving His designs, and are even 
 unconscious, in many cases, of the place which they 
 hold in His system. 
 
 The intention of some persons in their work is sim- 
 ply to gain a livelihood by it. To render this livelihood 
 more abundant and more independent, they rise up 
 early, hite take rest, and eat the bread of carefulness. 
 A perfectly innocent motive ; nay, in a merely moral 
 and social point of view, a commendable one, but not a 
 spiritual motive, such as glorifies the work and redeems 
 it from earthliness. 
 
 Others in a higher class of life, labour unremittingly 
 with the view of winning eminence in their particular 
 pursuit or profession. The effects of work done in this 
 spirit, if it does not meet with tiie success which it 
 seeks, are very sad to witness. That elasticity of mind 
 which is the spring and nerve of duty, is gone from a 
 disappointed man. He is a stranger to the bright 
 cheerfulness of mind which characterizes the Christian, 
 who knows that no one ever sought to please our 
 Heavenly Master without succeeding and being over- 
 abundantly recompensed. 
 
 Others work merely from what is called energy of 
 mind. They would be miserable if idle ; and accord- 
 ingly, wherever they are, they create occupations for 
 themselves, if there are none to which they seem es- 
 pecially called. Indeed, to every one among us work is 
 in a greater or less degree a necessity of nature. But 
 that activity which results from a mere natural instinct 
 has, of course, nothing of a spiritual character. Per- 
 haps Pascal is right, though his thoughts on the subject 
 are a little sombre and overstrained, when he tells us 
 that this kind of activity is only a relief from the con- 
 templation of self, which we are afraid to be alone with, 
 
172 Do all for God. [part 
 
 from an instinctive feeling of discontent with it. As a 
 debtor shuns looking into his accounts, so we shun look- 
 ing into self, and for the same reason. Self and the 
 accounts are both unsatisfiictory, and in frightful dis- 
 order. 
 
 Again the better class of men, in whose hearts a 
 supernatural motive has not yet found place, work 
 from the high and elevating motive of duty. This 
 motive exalts the character to the very highest pitch 
 to which a mere natural character can attain. " It is 
 my work," says the man, " and 1 shall not shrink from 
 it, however much of danger and hardship it may in- 
 volve." It is a fine mind which so speaks ; perhaps 
 we may admit that the owner of such a mind is "not 
 far from the kingdom of God ;" but if the intention 
 have no reference to God's appointment, God's Will 
 and Service, truth forbids us to say that it is a spiritual 
 or supernatural mind. Cicero and Seneca might have 
 worked from a sense of duty ; but Cicero and Seneca 
 knew nothing of the living and loving Lord, who ap- 
 points labourers to various parts of His vineyard, en- 
 dows them with various talents, and rewards them 
 according to their diligence in improving those talents. 
 God must enter the mind, before our motives can be 
 supernaturalized. 
 
 Finally, a great mass of human activity is really des- 
 titute of any intention at all, and so runs to waste in 
 a spiritual point of view. Multitudes of men work 
 mechanically and by the same instinct of routine which 
 causes a horse to go round in a mill. They throw 
 themselves into their pursuit in the morning, with 
 about as much reflection and thought as the poor 
 dumb animal, when he submits himself afresh to the 
 harness, and thriists his neck once again into the well- 
 
III.] Do all for God, 173 
 
 known collar. But man is surely made for something 
 nobler than to work by mere force of habit. Look at 
 him. What powerful and stormy affections, what lively 
 intelligence, what strength of purpose and of moral 
 choice, is latent in that human heart 1 God did not 
 intend that creature for a piece of clockwork, to run 
 down when it is wound up, without any consciousness 
 of the design which it subserves. He must have meant 
 man surely to act with foresight, with design, with 
 purpose, with intelligence, with affection, even as He 
 Himself works ! 
 
 Such, then, are the views and motives with which 
 the majority pursue their vocations. And now what is 
 the true motive, the supernatural motive, which lifts up 
 the humblest duties into a higher atmosphere, and 
 refines away their earthliness, and glorifies them 1 
 " Whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and 
 not unto men ; knowing that of the Lord ye shall 
 receive the reward of the inheritance : for ye serve the 
 Lord Christ." It will be seen by consulting the con- 
 text, that this precept, and the corresponding one in 
 the Ephesians, have a primary reference to the duties 
 of slaves. Now no duty can be imagined lower in the 
 social scale than those of a slave in a heathen family, — 
 a position in which many members of the early 
 Christian community found themselves. The duties of 
 the slave were bound upon him by the most galling 
 necessity ; if he neglected or evaded them, he did so at 
 the risk of the lash, the brand and the treadmill ; yet 
 the Apostle intimates that even these duties may be 
 ennobled and sanctified by importing into them a 
 Christian intention. Let the slave look behind and 
 beyond his earthly master, to the gracious and glorious 
 form of the Lord Jesus, who stands in the background,. 
 
174 Do all for God. [paet 
 
 requiring service of him. Let him yield that service 
 heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men, and it shall 
 be owned, blessed, accepted, rcAvarded. Now we can- 
 not but think that there is a deep wisdom in this parti- 
 cular arrangement of the Word of God, by which a 
 precept so universal in its character as that of the con- 
 secration of secular duties to the Lord, is connected in 
 the first instance with the business of slaves. The a 
 fortiori inference is so abundantly evident that, if the 
 humble drudgery of a slave admits of such a consecra- 
 tion, much more does any nobler form of human busi- 
 ness. No man after this can say, " My duties are so 
 very common-place, and so very petty, that they cannot 
 have a religious dignity and value ; or so bound upon 
 me by necessity that there can be no spontaneity in ren- 
 dering them." Your duty, whatever it be, is at least as 
 noble intrinsically as that of the bond servants of anti- 
 quity, whom their masters regarded merely as species 
 of live stock. And therefore, if the duties of those bond- 
 servants admitted of being done heartily, as to the Lord, 
 much more do yours. Then that you should strive so 
 to do them, is our first practical counsel to you res- 
 pecting your work. First, before you go forth to your • 
 daily task, establish your mind thoroughly in the 
 truth, that all the lawful and necessary pursuits of the 
 world are so many departments of God's great harvest- 
 field, in which He has called Christians to go forth and 
 labour for Him. Let us regard them all as, at least, 
 if nothing more, wheels of the great world-system, 
 whose revolutions are bringing on the Second Advent 
 and Kingdom of Christ. Then, imagining yourself 
 for a moment under no worldly obligation to pursue 
 your particular calling, undertake it with the deliberate 
 and conscious intention of furthering His Work and 
 
ni.] Do all for God, 175 
 
 Will. Choose it with your whole will, as the path in 
 which He would have you to f(>llow Him, and the task 
 to which He has called you. Consecrate it to Him by 
 a few moments of secret prayer, imploring Him to 
 take it up into the great scheme of His Service, and to 
 make it all humble, weak, and sinful as it is, instrument- 
 al in furthering His designs. Then put your hand to 
 it bravely, endeavouring to keep before the mind the 
 aim of pleasing Him by diligence and zeal. Imagine 
 Jesus examining your work, as He will do at the last 
 day ; and strive that there may be no flaw in it, that it 
 may be thoroughly well executed both in its outer man- 
 ner and inner spirit. 
 
 At the beginning and end of every considerable 
 action, renew the holy intention of the morning. 
 
 As to the smaller duties of life, — the mint, anise, and 
 cummin of God's Worship, there should be an honest 
 attempt to bring them too under the control of the 
 ruling principle. The Scripture exempts nothing from 
 the compass of God's Service : " Whether therefore ye 
 eat or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of 
 God." " Whatsoever ye do, in word or in deed, do all 
 in the name of the Lord Jesus." But a word or two 
 of caution is here necessary for weak and scrupulous 
 minds. The Scripture shows its divine perfection by 
 setting up an ideal standard of duty, which was never 
 yet actually reached except by the Lord Jesus Himself. 
 God speaks in the Scripture ; and God must require 
 perfection, cannot require any thing less or lower. 
 Perfection, therefore, must be the aim of all, and this 
 in small things as well as great. But eschew, as being 
 particularly adverse to real progress, all little unworthy 
 scrupulosity, such as would be counted absurd by 
 strong common sense. If you are conscious in the 
 
176 Do all for God. [part 
 
 main of an intention to serve God in all things, small 
 and great, put foolish scruples and questions of casuistry 
 out of court without an hearing. God will have the 
 service which comes of a sound mind and a joyous 
 heart ; and nothing more impedes and impairs soundness 
 of mind and joyousness of heart than petty scruples. 
 The Devil is the author of scruples, both in the mind 
 of the hypocrite and of the Christian. He allows them 
 in the hypocrite, as the one thing having the semblance 
 of religious duty, by which he compounds with him for 
 laxity and licentiousness in the weightier matters of the 
 law. He originates them in the Christian, as being a 
 fertile source of downheartedness, timidity and despair. 
 Now the best way to resist the Devil on all occasions is 
 to turn a deaf ear to him. Let us make sure of con- 
 secrating to God by prayer, and a good intention, the 
 more considerable duties of the day. Let us strive, at 
 all periods, whether of work or refreshment, to realize 
 His presence, and the great end for which we are, or 
 ought to be, living. We shall find by degrees that the 
 main business of the day, if done with pure intention, 
 will lead the smaller duties in tow, like long-boats fol- 
 lowing in the wake of a man-of-war. 
 
 For the rest, let us make a wise and holy use of the 
 efficacy of Christ's Blood and Grace. That doctrine, if 
 rightly and deeply received, will give the mind a spring 
 of elasticity, of indomitable cheerfulness, courage, and 
 hope. Nothing which we do will for a moment bear 
 the scrutiny of Almighty God as a judge. Be it so; 
 but Our Lord's Work will endure that scrutiny, and 
 come triumphant out of the ordeal ; and His Work is 
 by faith ours, as entirely as if we were the doers of it. 
 Our own efforts after sanctity are always breaking down 
 and giving way under us. True; but in Him doth all 
 
ni.] Bo all in God. 177 
 
 fulness dwell ; and out of that fulness will we look tc 
 receive grace for grace, so that more and more visibly, 
 if only our wills be true to Him, the lineaments of His 
 Blessed Image may be reproduced in us by the power 
 of His Spirit. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 ON MAINTAINING THE CONSCIOUSNESS OF GOD'S PEESENCE 
 IN THE WORKS OE OUR CALLING. 
 
 " The Lord appeared to Ahram^ and said unto him^ I am the al- 
 mighty God; walk before Me^ and he thou perfect.'''' — Gen. 
 xvii. 1. 
 
 In a certain sense we all must walk before God, 
 whether in solitude or among the haunts of men. 
 " He is about our path, and about our bed, and spieth 
 out all our ways." But it is open to us to realize His 
 Presence, or to dismiss it from our minds. And it is 
 the first of these courses which God counsels Abraham 
 to adopt when He says, " Walk before Me, and be thou 
 perfect." The words seem to imply that the realiza- 
 tion of the Divine Presence in all things is the great 
 secret of perfection ; that is, of course, of such perfec- 
 tion (most imperfect at best) as man can by grace at* 
 tain unto. Animal and vegetable life both form round 
 a nucleus, or centre, which is at first a mere point or 
 speck undiscernible except by the microscope, but 
 which contains in it the germ of the animal or plant 
 which is to be formed by expansion from it. And in 
 some eminent servants of God the spiritual life has all 
 formed itself from this one centre, developed itself from 
 8* 
 
178 Do all in God, [part 
 
 this one nucleus, the realization of the Presence of 
 God. 
 
 We are still engaged upon the question how the 
 work of our calling may be done devoutly. The first 
 part of the answer was given in the last chapter : " Do 
 all /or God." The second part remains to be given: 
 " Do all in God " by habitual mindfulness of His 
 Presence. 
 
 It is an easy thing to see and to say that men should 
 be mindful of God's Presence while engaged in their 
 daily work. But it is not so easy to see how, with 
 any of the higher forms of work, such advice can really 
 be put in practice. The consideration of this point will 
 serve to bring out in sharper relief the meaning of the 
 precept. 
 
 The counsel, then, to be mindful of God's Presence 
 in the midst of our daily secular occupations, might 
 seem to be quite practicable for those who have to work 
 merely with their, hands. It might seem as if the 
 peasant who turns up the soil with his spade, the lace- 
 woman who plies her bobbins with busy finger, the boy 
 set in the fields to scare the birds from the crops, could 
 have no difficulty in turning the mind to the Presence 
 of Almighty God, inasmuch as with them the mind has 
 no other engagement. But all work which is not 2^urely 
 mechanical (and even the pursuits I have named can 
 scarcely be called mechanical altogether), all work 
 which involves attention, — much more all work which 
 involves thought, seems to preclude the realization of 
 the Divine Presence at the moment of its being done. 
 For the human mind is so constituted that it cannot be 
 given to two subjects simultaneously, any more than 
 the eye can be fixed upon two objects simultaneously, 
 Where men are said to have the gift of attending to 
 
in.] Do all in God. 179 
 
 two matters at once, this is only a fij^ure of speech, 
 indicating the power of rapid transition from one 
 matter to another. It would seem then that, while en* 
 gaged in any work which asks for an exercise of mind, 
 — reading, or writing, or computing, or conversing, as 
 the case may be, — men cannot think of God's Presence, 
 and that therefore it would be unreal to exhort them to 
 do so. 
 
 Before answering this objection, let me call attention 
 (and, as we are giving counsels upon work, it will not 
 be wandering from the point to do so) to the element 
 of truth and reason which there is in it. It is a moral 
 lesson, which quite deserves the rank of a spiritual 
 counsel, that undivided attention to one thing at a time 
 is necessary to do any work well. Such attention is at 
 once a duty to the work, and a duty to the mind engag- 
 ed in the work. Exclude for the time all thought of 
 other matters, as carefully as if they did not exist. If 
 other business presses, there is no help for it, — it must 
 wait till the first is transacted. Where persons are 
 heavily engaged, there is a certain feverish fidgetiness 
 to take up several tasks at once, which greatly inter- 
 feres with quietness and thoughtfulness of mind, and 
 so with progress. Let the aim of such persons be to 
 do the thing well, rather than to get through it flist. 
 A saint of old inculcated this precept very well, though 
 very quaintly, when he said that " Christians often 
 need to be reminded that with only one pair of hands 
 they cannot thread two needles at the same time." 
 And a wiser man than he, speaking as the organ of the 
 Spirit of God, said, " Whatsoever thy hand findeth to 
 do, do it with thy might." 
 
 But in answer to the objection respecting the im- 
 possibility of realizing the Divine Presence, while en- 
 
180 Do all in God. [paet 
 
 gaged in any work which calls for mental effort, it is 
 to be observed that what we recommend, and what is 
 surely attainable is, the mere consciousness that God's 
 eye is upon us. 
 
 That this consciousness need not interfere with the 
 most active exercise of the powers of the mind, is clear 
 from the following consideration: — 
 
 A man's mind is never more actively engaged than 
 when he is making an extempore address. Under such 
 circumstances he must think, remember, judge, imagine, 
 institute comparisons, all within the space of time 
 allotted to his speech; and all not in a disjointed, 
 aimless way, but with the view of proving one point 
 and persuading to one conclusion : thought, memory, 
 judgment, imagination, comparison, must all be gath- 
 ered (if the speech is to be an effective one) like so 
 many rays of the sun into one burning-glass, and made 
 to concentrate their forces on a single point. Probably 
 there is no exercise in the world which so calls out the 
 whole mind simultaneously as that of extempore 
 speech. 
 
 Yet, what speaker for a moment forgets, or can 
 forget that the eyes of his audience are upon him % 
 It is just their intense consciousness of the human 
 presence, of its reality, and of the impossibility of es- 
 caping from it, that makes the speaking with many 
 able men so difficult a thing. They might express 
 themselves fluently enough in solitude, but in public 
 their consciousness of the human presence is too much 
 for the mind, paralyzes it for the time being. He who 
 proposes to become a speaker must acquire the habit 
 of so holding under this consciousness, as that free play 
 may be allowed to the exercise of the mind. Of 
 holding it under, I say, — for it is impossible that any 
 
III.] Bo all in God, 181 
 
 speaker should ever entirely suppress it. So fiir from 
 suppressing it, most men, when speaking, are unusually 
 sensitive of impressions from the upturned countenances 
 which are fixed upon them. The feelings of the audi- 
 ence communicate themselves to the mind of the person 
 addressing them by a curious, almost electric, sym- 
 pathy : if their features evince interest, he takes heart 
 and goes on swimmingly ; if their attention flags, he is 
 discouraged ; if they seem perplexed, he feels that he 
 must somewhat expand his matter, and explain himself ; 
 if they are very animated, and have fairly embarked 
 with him on the full current of his argument, he 
 feels that he is master of their minds, and can sway 
 them to and fro, as the wind sways the trees of 
 the wood. But any how, consciousness of their pre- 
 sence forms, if I may so say, the very groundwork of 
 his mind. 
 
 It is abundantly clear, then, that consciousness of a 
 presence need not interfere with the most active opera- 
 tions of mind. And if consciousness of the presence 
 of man need not do so, why need consciousnes of the 
 Presence of God % All that the precept, " Walk be- 
 fore m.e, and be thou perfect, " implies is, that we 
 should acquire and maintain such a consciousness. 
 But how is this done 1 Our senses give us assurance 
 of the human presence, and the senses are in all of us 
 sufficiently keen and alive. But how shall we obtain 
 an habitual assurance of a truth whereof our senses 
 give us no notice whatever 1 — how shall we walk before 
 God, as seeing Him who is invisible'? In the same 
 way by which all other results in the spiritual life are 
 obtained, — by trustful, expectant, sanguine prayer, and 
 eflbrt. It is obvious that this very grace— mindfulness 
 or consciousness of God's Presence — may be made the 
 
182 Bo all in God. [part 
 
 subject of special Prayer, an answer to which, as in the 
 case of every spiritual blessing which we petition for, 
 should be looked for with confidence, on the ground of 
 God's promise to prayer. But then there is, besides 
 this, the doing what in us lies to attain the end. And 
 what in us lies is this, — to call the attention definitely 
 to God's Presence, as occasion offers, at the necessary 
 breaks or periods in our work, and the occasional 
 mingling with the act of recollection two or three 
 words of secret prayer which may suggest themselves 
 on the moment; such as, "Thou, God, seest me," — 
 " Have I also here looked after Him that seeth me 1" 
 — " Thou art about my path " (in the daytime), "and 
 about my bed " (in the silent watches of the night). 
 
 The conception of God's Presence will take different 
 shapes in diflferent minds. We may regard Him as 
 locally present every where, the veil of matter screen- 
 ing Him from our view, just as a king might really be 
 moving up and down in the midst of a company of 
 blind persons ; or we may regard Him as having a 
 certain intimate connexion with our own minds, as 
 upholding momentarily in us the powers of life and 
 thought, according to that word of St. Paul's, " In him 
 we live, and move, and have our being ; " or, lastly, we 
 may think of Our Lord in human form looking down 
 upon our probation from the Heavenly Throne, just as 
 He appeared at the martyrdom of St. Stephen. All 
 other modes of viewing the subject resolve themselves 
 ijito the primary ones, in which, as you will see, there 
 is a reference to the three Persons of the Blessed 
 Trinity. Even the most earnest work would not be 
 materially impeded, and certainly it would be done in a 
 brighter and happier, as well as a holier state of mind, 
 if these little efforts of attention were made during its 
 
m.] Do all in God. 183 
 
 progress. And it will be found in course of time, that 
 the constant recurrence of the thoughts to God will 
 pass into an instinctive consciousness of His Presence 
 and that the mind will acquire a tendency to gravitate 
 towards tlim at all times, which will operate easily and 
 naturally as soon as it is relieved of the strain which 
 worldly affairs put upon it. An excellent writer on 
 devotion, whom we have quoted previously, speaking on 
 the topic of secular affairs, and showing how they must 
 be despatched with earnestness, and yet without soli- 
 citude, says, — " Do as little children do, who with one 
 hand hold fast by their father, and with the other 
 gather hips and haws or blackberries along the hedges ; 
 so you, gathering and managing with one hand the 
 things of this world, must w'ith the other always hold 
 fast the hand of your Heavenly Father, turning your- 
 self towards Him from time to time, to see if your 
 actions or occupations be pleasing to Him ; but above 
 all things take heed that you never let go His protecting 
 hand, thinking to gather more ; for should He forsake 
 you, you will not be able to go a step without falling 
 to the ground. My meaning is, that amidst those or- 
 dinary affairs which require not so earnest an attention, 
 you shall look moi-e on God than on them ; and when 
 they are of such importance as to require your whole 
 attention, that then also you should look from time to 
 time towards God, like mariners of the olden time, 
 who, to arrive at the port to which they were bound, 
 looked more up towards heaven than down on the sea 
 on which they sailed: thus will God work with you, in 
 you and for you ; and all your labours shall be accom- 
 panied with consolations." 
 
 In cultivating the consciousness of the Divine 
 Presence, we shall find it useful to catch at every help 
 
184 Do all in God. [paet 
 
 which our circumstances afford. Let us just glance at 
 some of these circumstances, and at the account to 
 which they may be turned. 
 
 It is not hard to see how a rural walk, even through 
 the plainest country, may suggest devout musings. As 
 we mark the sprouting leaf, or blossoming flower, we 
 may call to mind that God is silently, but powerfully 
 putting forth His activities in our immediate neighbour- 
 hood ; as we brush by the hedge, and make the little 
 bird dart up from it in the palpitation of sudden feai*, 
 we are on the field of his operations. Why, when 
 standing upon such ground, are we impressed so slightly 
 with aw^e of His power and His skill? Mechanism of 
 human contrivance generally strikes awe into the mind 
 of the unsophisticated beholder. In the great bell- 
 tower or clock-tower of a cathedral, where the huge 
 rafters, which form the case of the machinery, cross 
 each other above our heads and under our feet, or in 
 the engine-house of some great manufactory, where 
 cranks and pistons sough, and wheels whirr on all sides 
 of us, and we are warned that, if part of the machinery 
 caught our dress, we should be drawn in and crushed 
 to pieces by one revolution of the engine, with as little 
 power to resist as the mouse who is under the paw of 
 the lion; in such places a nervous shuddering thrills 
 through the frame, and the consciousness of so tremen- 
 dous a force so near at hand is apt to shake and dismay 
 the mind. How is it that we feel little or no awe when 
 in the neighborhood of a Power, whose operations are 
 irresistible, — a Power who holds our breath in His 
 hand, and by closing His hand upon it at any moment 
 might stop instantaneously that palpitation of the 
 heart, and that circulation of the blood, which we call 
 by the mysterious name " Life?' It is partly because 
 
III.] Do all in God. 185 
 
 God works so silently, without any display of His 
 machinery, — because the peep of the dawn, and the 
 opening of the blossom are done by the evolution of 
 gentle, but most effectual, influence ; God eschewing 
 in his operations that horrid clank and whirr, which 
 announces itself as powerful, and terrifies by the an- 
 nouncement, — partly also because, almost unconscious- 
 ly to ourselves, we entertain a secret disbelief in the Om- 
 nipresence of a personal God ; and cover Him up from 
 our own regards in an abstraction meaningless, power- 
 less, passionless, devotionless, to which we give the 
 chilling name of " Nature." 
 
 But does the walk through the streets of the 
 crowded city suggest no thoughts of God's nearness ? 
 Are not the activities of His Providence busy with 
 every one of the individuals whose path intersects ours *? 
 If we could know the life of each of them, is there not 
 a providential drama, which is working itself out in 
 their fortunes, gradually developing its catastrophe in 
 the subordinate incidents of their career ? And amidst 
 all the many counsels, schemes, and devices, which each 
 of them is forming, and in virtue of which they seem 
 to be the ultimate masters of their own destiny, is 
 there not a Power behind the scenes, " directing their 
 steps," — " a Divinity that shapes their ends, rough hew 
 ~fhem how they will?" Is it not a solemn thing to be 
 in the immediate neighbourhood of a Power 
 unrolling inch by inch the ground-plan of many 
 man lives ? 
 
 But another reflection may usefully come to our aid 
 m our efforts to realize the Presence of God amid the 
 throng and hum of men. The Incarnation of the Son 
 of God, and His covenanted Presence among the two 
 or three gathered together in His Name, lead us to 
 
 ng to be \ 
 which is ^V', 
 lany hu- f 
 
180 Bo all in God. [part 
 
 connect the thought of God with human society in a 
 manner, which before the Incarnation would have been 
 impossible. The abstract God we associate in our 
 minds with the lone places of nature; we hear His 
 whisper in the breeze which stirs the leaves of the se- 
 questered glen, His louder utterance in the thunder, 
 the avalanche, and the wild wind which churns the 
 ocean into fury. But the Eternal Wisdom of God, 
 Who for our sukes became incarnate, describes Him- 
 self as " rejoicing in the habitable part of the earth, 
 and having his delights among the sons of men." Christ 
 walked up and down in the midst of us, trode our 
 streets, sat by our hearths, ministered at the sick beds 
 of men, was the invited Guest at their marriages, and 
 the great Comforter at their funerals, to teach this 
 among other lessons, that we may iind the footprints 
 of our God, if we will only look for them, in human 
 society. The human face with all its power of expres- 
 siveness, both in sorrow and in joy, is a sort of sacra- 
 ment of His Presence ; and a true faith will enable us 
 to pierce the veil, under which He conceals Himself 
 from the bodily eye, and to find Him still mixed up 
 with the interests and concerns of men, forbearing, for- 
 giving, warning, counselling, comforting. The peculiar 
 value of this last reflection lies in the fact that, for rea- 
 sons connected with the constitution of the mind, it is 
 fiir more easy to realize the Presence of God in soli- 
 tude than in company. There is something in us which 
 immediately responds to the words of Christ, when He 
 counsels privacy for the purpose of devotion, " Thou, 
 when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when 
 thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is 
 in secret." An instinct, deeply implanted in our spiri- 
 tual nature, assures us that we must shut out the world, 
 
m.] Do all in God. 187 
 
 if we would realize the Divine Presence. And this is 
 eminently true as far as our hearts are concerned. To 
 disencumber them qf earthly cares, earthly interests, 
 and the debasing, corroding influence of worldly affairs, 
 is an absolutely essential condition of our drawing nigh 
 to God. But the mere company of others need not be 
 a hindrance, nay, may be rather a help to this detach- 
 ment, if we learn to connect society with the thought 
 of Christ, and Christ with the thought of society. If 
 He condescended to join Himself to human life, to 
 take an experimental interest in every stage and in 
 every phase of it, is not that sufficient to sanctify its 
 every stage and phase 1 If He was essentially a man 
 of the city, and not, like His forerunner, a man of the 
 wilderness, may not men of the city hope to find His 
 footprints by the side of their daily life, and take occa- 
 sion even from that life, to think of Him much, and 
 thus spiritualize their earthly citizenship "? Few stars 
 in the firmament of the Church shine brighter than that 
 of St. Matthew, one of the twelve Apostles, and the 
 Evangelist of what may be called the mother Gospel. 
 And what was St. Matthew originally 1 A man con- 
 versant not with rural, but with city life, — not with 
 contemplation, but with business. Not an unsophisti- 
 cated fisherman, like the rest of his colleagues, but a 
 collector of taxes for the Roman Government, one who 
 sat daily at the receipt of custom, driving a trade essen- 
 tially secular. Yet God Incarnate crossed his path, 
 and singled him out of the throng as one who should 
 draw many souls, minted anew with the image and su- 
 perscription of the Heavenly King, into the treasury 
 of God, and sat at meat in his house in company with 
 many publicans and sinners, and set him upon one of 
 the twelve thrones, which Apostles shall visibly occupy 
 
188 Of Interruptions in our Work, [part 
 
 in the regeneration of all things, and placed around his 
 brow, as a coronet, the Pentecostal tongue of fire. It 
 is a great lesson that, if only our^ hearts are right and 
 true, Ave may find Christ, — or rather may be found of 
 Him, — in the traffic of secular affiiirs. May we so 
 learn this lesson, as to know it, not in theory only, but 
 by experience ! » 
 
 " There are in this loud stunning tide 
 Of human care and crime, 
 With whom the melodies abide 
 
 Of the everlasting chime ; 
 Who carry music in their heart, 
 Through dusky lane and wrangling mart ; 
 Plying their d:ily task with busier feet, 
 Because their secret souls a holy strain repeat." 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 OF INTERRUPTIONS IN OUR WORK, AND THE WAY TO DEAL 
 WITH THEM. 
 
 " We are created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God 
 hath before ordained that we should walk in them." — Eph. 
 ii. 10. 
 
 We have spoken in the two foregoing Chapters of the 
 work which God has allotted to us, and of the spirit 
 which must be thrown into it, if we would convert it 
 into a sacrifice. He who tries to infuse this spirit into 
 his daily work will do it earnestly. He will throw all 
 his powers of heart and soul into it ; and whereas before 
 much of his duty has been done mechanically, his nobler 
 faculties will now be called into exercise in the doing of 
 
III.] a7id the way to deal with them. 189 
 
 it. It will all be done thou;^htfully and seriously, and 
 mixed with prayer, the highest effort of which the mind 
 is capable. 
 
 And the very earnestness with which the work is 
 now done may bring with it a snare. When the mind 
 is intently bent upon one action, and that action is felt 
 to be a serious one, it is greatly embarrassed and annoy- 
 ed by interruptions. Other things making a claim upon 
 the attention, distract and harass us. Of course it is 
 not so with the man who hangs about upon life with 
 no serious pursuit. Interruptions are to him a pleasing 
 variety ; nor can he at all appreciate the trial of which 
 we speak. But in proportion to the seriousness with 
 which the Christian does his work will be, if I may so 
 say, his sensitiveness to interruptions. And as this 
 sensitiveness is very apt to disturb his peace, (and in 
 doing so to retard his progress,) we will in this Chapter 
 show the manner in which interruptions should be met, 
 and the spirit with which they should be encountered. 
 
 The great remedy, then, for the sensitiveness to 
 which I have alluded, is a closer study of the mind that 
 was in Christ, as that mind transpires in His recorded 
 conduct. The point in the life of our Lord to which 
 I wish to call attention, is the apparent want of what 
 may be called method or plan in His life, — I mean 
 method or plan of His own devising, — the fact that His 
 good works were not in pursuance of some scheme laid 
 down by Himself, but such as entered into God's scheme 
 for Him, such as the Father had prepared for Him to 
 walk in. 
 
 I. And, first, notice His discourses, both in their 
 occasions, and in their contexture. 
 
 (1) They most often take their rise from some object 
 which is thrown across His path in nature, from some 
 
190 Of Interruptions in our Work, [part 
 
 occurrence which takes place under His eyes, or from 
 some question which is put to Him. For the wonderful 
 discourse in John vi. upon the Living Bread, we are 
 entirely indebted to the circumstance that after the 
 miracle of the loaves the carnal multitude sought Him, 
 in anxiety to have their natural wants once again satis- 
 fied by miracle. It was not that Jesus had previously 
 prepared for them such a discourse ; but this was the 
 discourse which their conduct drew from Him. — He 
 meets a Samaritan woman at Jacob's well, and op- 
 pressed with the noontide heat, asks her for water from 
 her bucket. Her answer leads on to a close dealing 
 with the woman's conscience, and to the announcement 
 of certain great truths respecting that living Water, 
 whereof whosoever drinketh shall never thirst. But 
 here again the words rise spontaneously from the occa- 
 sion. — The murmurs of the Pharisees and Scribes, be- 
 cause Jesus received sinners and ate with them, elicited 
 for our everlasting consolation the noble parables of the 
 lost sheep, the lost coin, and the prodigal son. — An ob- 
 servation falling from a guest at table, a mere devout 
 sentiment casually dropped in His hearing, " Blessed 
 is he that shall eat bread in the kingdom of God," drew 
 from His lips the parable of the great Supper. — A cer- 
 tain man asked Him to undertake an arbitration between 
 himself and his brother as to their respective shares of 
 their hereditary property. This suggested to our Lord 
 the topic of covetousness, and the parable of the rich 
 fool, illustrative of that topic. 
 
 All the above are instances in which Scripture itself 
 explicitly traces the connexion between certain occasions 
 and the discourses of Our Lord. And divines have 
 recognized many others, where the connexion, though 
 not expressed, is not obscurely implied. 
 
III.] and the way to deal loith them, 191 
 
 (2) But a similar remark holcis good respecting the 
 contexture of these wonderful discourses. Jesus spake 
 as "never man spake," as never wise man after the 
 flesh had any idea of speaking. For Our Lord's great 
 discourses are not constructed upon any such method 
 or plan, as the human intellect recognizes. Pascal 
 somewhere remarks that there are two orders of dis- 
 course, — one which he calls the order of the intellect, 
 the other the order of love. The order of the intellect 
 is to have an exordium, a series of arguments bearing 
 on the matter in hand, a series of illustrations, and what 
 is called a peroration or close. This order does not ad- 
 mit of divergences or digressions ; any interruptions of 
 the plan are to the mere intellect impertinences, and the 
 pruning-knife of a merely intellectual critic would cut 
 them unsparingly away. The order of love, on the 
 other hand, says this truly spiritual writer, is to have a 
 heart so penetrated with the subject, as to be impatient 
 of the restraints of intellectual method, and to burst 
 away in pursuit of favourite topics, as the mind within 
 suggests. This, says he, is the only order observed in 
 the writings of St. Augustine and St. Paul, and in the 
 discourses of their Divine Master, Jesus Christ. And 
 the remark is pre-eminently true. Take the Sermon on 
 the Mount, and try to analyse it. You will find that 
 it defies methodical analysis. "While no head of Chris- 
 tian precept is left untouched, there is no such sys- 
 tematic arrangement as we can easily put upon paper. 
 There was no doubt an undercurrent of thought in the 
 mind of the Divine Preacher, welding together the 
 different sections of the great Sermon, and leading Ilim 
 on fluently from topic to topic ; but nothing can less 
 wear the aspect of a discourse framed upon a dry pre- 
 conceived plan. Doubtless it was as the swallow caught 
 
192 Of Tnterruptions 171 our Work, [paet 
 
 His eye, skimming along to its nest with food for its 
 young, and as the lily or blue-bell of Palestine waved 
 before Him on the hill-side, that He took occasion to 
 illustrate His precepts against worldly carefulness by 
 those wonderful sections, beginning, " Behold the fowls 
 of the air," " Consider the lilies of the field." This is 
 the only plan observable in the discourse, — the plan of 
 a loving heart pouring itself out, as occasion serves, for 
 the edification of mankind. 
 
 II. But the absence of mere human plan, or rather 
 strict faithfulness to the plan of God, as hourly devel- 
 oped by the movements of His Providence, charac- 
 terized the life of our Lord even more than His dis- 
 courses. His object throughout is not to carry out 
 schemes preconceived by Himself, but to study God's 
 guidings, and to be true to God's occasions and God's 
 inspirations. Take only that portion of His life re- 
 corded in a single chapter, — the ninth of St. Matthew. 
 Jesus is interrupted in the midst of a discourse which 
 He was holding in the house, by the appearance of a 
 couch with a palsied man upon it, lowered into the 
 midst of the court under His eyes. So far from ac- 
 counting the interruption unseasonable. He first ab- 
 solves, and then heals the patient, and thus secures 
 glory to God from the multitude. The miracle 
 performed. He passes out into the oj^en air, perhaps 
 for refreshment, and His eye catches Matthew sit- 
 ting at the receipt of custom. He calls him, and 
 Matthew follows. Matthew invites our Lord to a 
 meal, and our Lord accepts the invitation ; sits down 
 with publicans and sinners, and profits by the occasion 
 to speak of the freeness of His Grace. — In connex- 
 ion probably with His appearance at a festival, tho 
 disciples of John ask Him why His disciples did not 
 
III.] and the ivay to deal with them. 193 
 
 fast. He explains why. — Jairus comes to solicit His 
 merciful interference in behalf of a dying daughter. 
 Jesus follows him forthwith to his house, when, lo and 
 behold, another interruption, which to the feelings of 
 Jairus, all impatient to have the great Healer under 
 his roof, must have been extremely galling. The wo- 
 man with an issue of blood steals a cure from Him on 
 the road. Jesus stops to draw from her an acknow- 
 ledgment of the benefit, and to dismiss her with a word 
 of consolation and blessing. Then He resumes His 
 former errand of love, arrives at Jairus' house, and 
 raises the dead maiden. — Coming out, probably on His 
 return to His own abode, the blind men follow Him 
 into the house, and receive their cure.^— They have 
 scarcely gone out, when the man possessed with a 
 dumb devil is brought to Him, and restored ; and thus 
 ends the detailed portion of the chapter, what follows 
 being a general and summary survey. 
 
 This is a good specimen of Our Lord's whole w'ay 
 of life, and of how^ He went about doing good, not on 
 a rigid, unbending, preconcerted plan, but as the Father, 
 in the course of His Providence, ministered to Him the 
 occasiorK 
 
 Now, as God ordained beforehand certain good 
 works in w^hich the Son of His Love, was to w^alk, so 
 He deals with each follower of His Son, according to 
 the humble capacity of that follower, on a similar prin- 
 ciple. Christian, whoever you are, whatever your 
 sphere, whatever your gifts, whatever your station, God 
 has a plan of life for you. More than this. He has a 
 plan of useful life for you, a plan of doing good, — cer- 
 tain occasions and opportunities of doing good all map- 
 ped out for you in His eternal counsels. These occa- 
 sions and opportunities are to arise day by day upon 
 
194 Of Interruptions in our Work, [paet 
 
 you, as you pursue your beaten path of life, just as 
 while the globe turns round upon its axis, the sun in 
 course of time rises upon those parts of it which before 
 were dark. Now this, perhaps, is a novel view to some 
 of my readers. They are accustomed to think of the 
 place which Our Lord has prepared for His followers, 
 — of the "joys which God has prepared for those who 
 unfeignedly love Him ; — but they. think comparatively 
 little of the sphere of good works, which is just as 
 much prepared for them to occupy here as is the sphere 
 of glory hereafter. Yet this is a certain and infallible 
 truth. If God have before ordained certain persons to 
 eternal life, He hath also before ordained good works 
 for those individuals to walk in. 
 
 Reader, are you a firm believer in the Providence 
 of God 1 because the whole doctrine which we are 
 setting forth is really wrapped up in God's Pro- 
 vidence. Do you believe that the whole of your 
 affairs — trivial as well as great, irregular as well as in 
 the ordiiTary course — are under His absolute, daily, 
 hourly supervision and control? that nothing can 
 possibly arise to you or any other, which is not foreseen 
 by Him, arranged for by Him, brought by Him within 
 the circle of His great plan? that the little incidents 
 of each day, as well as the solemn crises of life, are 
 His ordering? Then you virtually concede all that 
 the Apostle asserts in this verse. For you admit that 
 the occurrences of each day, however unlooked for, 
 however <jontrary to expectation, are God-sent, and 
 those which affect you, sent specially and with discrim- 
 ination to yourself. 
 
 Now it cannot be thought that God sends events to 
 a living soul, in order that the soul may be simply 
 passive under the events. If God sends you an event. 
 
in.] and the way to deal with them. 195 
 
 it must have a meaning ; it must be a sign to you that 
 you are to do something, to brace yourself up to some 
 action or to some state of feeling. All that God sends 
 to a human spirit must be significant. God has sent 
 us His Word. We know that He designs us n6t simply 
 to hear it, but to embrace it with a living faith and a 
 loving obedience. We are to meditate upon it, to ap- 
 ply it to our consciences, mould our character and con- 
 duct in conformity to it. Now the same God who has 
 sent us His Word equally sends us the daily occur- 
 rences of life, the chief difference being that, whereas 
 the Word has a general voice for all, in which each is 
 to find his own case represented, the occurrences are 
 charged with a more specific message to individuals. 
 Now there is many a man who says, "I will conform 
 myself to the general indications of God's Will made 
 to me by His Word ; " -comparatively few who say, 
 " I will conform myself to the special indications of 
 God's Will made to me by His Providence." But why 
 so few 1 Does not God come home to us m6re closely, 
 more searchingly, more personally by His Providence 
 than even by His Word ? Does not His finger rest 
 upon each of us more particularly in the government 
 of affairs than even in Revelation 1 And why are we 
 to imagine, as many seem to imagine, that no other 
 events but such as are afflictive and calamitous have a 
 voice for us % Why not every event ? Why is not 
 the ordinary intercourse of life to be regarded as fur- 
 nishing in God's design and intention opportunities of 
 either doing or receiving good ? I say of doing or i-e- 
 ceiving good. Surely either one or the other is a thing 
 greatly to be coveted. In nine cases out of ten wc 
 may fail of doing good ; but if in those cases wc have 
 received good, and received it too in the course of His 
 
196 Of Interruptions in our Work, [part 
 
 plan for us, and in the way of His Providence, surely 
 the occurrence which has called us off from our ordinary 
 pursuit is not to be regretted. 
 
 Here, then, lies the real remedy for the uneasiness 
 of mind which is- caused by interruptions. View them 
 as part of God's loving and wise plan for your day, and 
 try to mahe out His meaning in sending them. When 
 in your hour of morning devotion you distribute your 
 time beforehand (as it is in every way wise and proper 
 to do), let it always be with the proviso that the said 
 arrangement shall be subject to modifications by God's 
 plan for you, as that plan shall unfold itself hour by 
 hour to your apprehensions. When you have entered 
 upon the day, observe narrowly the quarter in which 
 His finger points, and be true to that direction. There 
 lies thy prepared task. There are the good works, not 
 which thou hast devised, but which God hath before or- 
 dained that thou shouldst walk in them. Break not 
 away for an instant from the guidance of His Provi- 
 dence ; for remember that thou art a child walking 
 among pitfalls and stumbling-blocks, and no sooner 
 shalt thou release thy grasp than thou shalt be broken, 
 and snared, and taken. A case of distress is flung in 
 your way as you are bound upon your daily occupa- 
 tions. The spirit of the age says, " Dismiss it, — you 
 have no time to spare, — leave it to the alms-house or 
 to the Society for the relief of the poor, and pass on." 
 Or it is suggested, in the midst of your avocations, that 
 there is some word of sympathy to be said or to 
 be written to a friend in trouble, — only a cup of cold 
 water in point of intrinsic value, but still a very re- 
 freshing one to a man in the furnace of affliction. 
 " But you are too much occupied," says the busy, 
 bustling, hard spirit of the age ; " you have no time 
 
iii.l and the way to deal with them. 19*7 
 
 for sympathies or sentimentalities.; you must go for- 
 ward ; if you desire to be successful in life, you cannot 
 afford to stop on the way." Now without denying that 
 in particular cases such counsel may admit of palliation 
 in a greater or less degree, Truth compels us to say 
 that this was not the mind which was in Christ Jesus. 
 His ear was never inaccessible to human suffering, and 
 His mind was never unobservant of God's plans. He 
 does not pass over the woman with the issue of blood, 
 He does not leave her without her lesson and without 
 her consolation, because He is bound on an errand of 
 love to the house of Jairus. He does not make oc- 
 casions bend to Him ; but, knowing that occasions are 
 the Father's call, He addresses Himself to serve occa- 
 sions. He is constantly (according to the advice which 
 He Himself inspired His Apostle to give us) ''^re- 
 deeming the O'pioortunity r 
 
 But supposing that during the day no opportunity 
 occurs of doing good. Supposing, for example, iliat 
 the case of distress into which we have patiently ex- 
 amined turns out, as it very frequently will, to be a 
 gross imposture, — have we therefore lost our labour in 
 a spiritual point of view ? Not surely, if we have con- 
 formed our will to God's design for us. There is no 
 interruption in the world, however futile and apparently 
 perverse, which we may not address olirselves to meet 
 luith a spirit of patience and condescensio7i borrowed 
 from our Master ; and to have made a step in advance 
 in conforming to the mind of Christ will be quite as 
 great a gain (jjrobably a far greater) than if we had 
 been engaged in our pursuit. For, after all, we may 
 be too intent upon our business, or rather intent in a 
 wrong way. The radical fault of our nature, be it 
 remembered, is Self-will; and we little suspect how 
 
198 Of Interruptions in our Work, [paet 
 
 largely Self-will and Self-pleasing may be at the bottom 
 of plans and pursuits, which still have God's glory and 
 the furtherance of His Service for their professed end. 
 
 Reader, the path which we have indicated is the 
 path not of sanctity only, but of peace also. We shall 
 never serve God with a quiet mind, unless we more or 
 less tread in this path. It is a miserable thing to be 
 the sport and prey of interruptions ; it wastes the 
 energies of the human spirit, and excites fretfulness, 
 and so leads us into temptation, as it is written, " Fret 
 not thyself; else shalt thou be moved to do evil." 
 But suppose the mind to be well grounded in the truth 
 that God's foresight and fore-arrangement embraces all 
 which seems to us an interruption, — that in this inter- 
 ruption lies awaiting us a good work in which it is 
 part of His Eternal counsel that we should walk, or 
 a good frame of mind which He wishes us to cultivate ; 
 then we are forearmed against surprises and' contra- 
 diofcions ; we have found an alchemy which converts 
 each unforeseen and untoward occurrence into gold ; 
 and the balm of peace distils upon our heart, even 
 though we be disappointed of the end which we had 
 proposed to ourselves. For which is better, safer, 
 sweeter, — to walk in the works which God hath before 
 ordained, or to walk in the way of our own hearts and 
 in the sight of Our eyes ? 
 
 Ah, reader ! let us seek to grasp the true notion of 
 Providence ; for in it there is peace and deep repose of 
 soul. Life has often been compared to a Drama. Now 
 in a good drama there is one plot, variously evolved by 
 incidents of different kinds, which until the last act 
 present entanglement and confusion. Vice has its 
 temporary triumphs, virtue its temporary depressions. 
 What of that 1 You kjiow it will come right in the 
 
III.] and the way to deal with them. 199 
 
 end. You know there is an organizing mind which 
 unfolds the story and that the poet will certainly bring 
 the whole to a climax by the ultimate vindication of 
 righteousness and the doing of poetical justice upon 
 malefactors. To this end every shifting of the scene, 
 every movement of the actors, every by-plot and under- 
 plot is made to contribute. Wheel within wheel is 
 working together towards this result. Well, Life is 
 God's great Drama. It was thought out and composed 
 in the Eternal mind before the mountains were brought 
 forth, or ever the earth and the world were made. In 
 time God made a theatre for it, called the Earth ; and 
 now the great Drama is being acted thereon. It 
 is on a gigantic scale, this Drama. The scenes are 
 shifting every hour. One set of characters drops off 
 the stage, and new ones come on, to play much the 
 same part as the first, only in new dresses. There 
 seem to be entanglements, perplexities, interruptions, 
 confusions, contradictions without end ; but you may 
 be sure there is one ruling thought, one master-design, 
 to which all these are subordinate. Every incident, 
 every character, however apparently adverse, contrib- 
 utes to work out that ruling thought. Think you 
 that the Divine Dramatist will leave any thing out of 
 the scope of his plot ? Nay, the circumference of that 
 plot embraces within its vast sweep every incident 
 which Time ever brought to birth. 
 
 Thou knowest that the mind which organized this 
 Drama is Wisdom. Thou knowest more : thou knowest 
 that it is Love. Then of its ending grandly, wisely, 
 nobly, lovingly, infinitely well for them who love God, 
 there can be no doubt. But remember you are an 
 actor in it ; not a puppet worked by wires, but an 
 actor. It is yours to study the plot as it unfolds itself, 
 
200 Fight wisely, [part 
 
 to throw yourself into it intelligently, warmly, zeal- 
 ously. Be sure to learn your part well, and to recite 
 it manfully. Be not clamorous for another or more 
 dignified character than that which is allotted you, — 
 be it your sole aim to conspire with the Author, and to 
 subserve His grand and wise conception. 
 
 Thus shall you cease from your own wisdom. Thus 
 shall you find peace in submitting yourself to the 
 wisdom which is of God. And thus, finally, shall He 
 pronounce you a good and- faithful servant, and summon 
 you to enter into the joy of your Lord. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 FIGHT WISELY. 
 " So fight /, not as one that heateth the airy — 1 CoK. ix. 26. 
 
 The three elements which enter into the composition 
 of the Spiritual Life, are Acting, Fighting, and Suffer- 
 ing. Of the first of these we have spoken ; and now, 
 from the consideration of the Christian in his duties, we 
 pass to the consideration of him in his temptations^ or, 
 in other words, we proceed to consider him as fighting. 
 Two of the main sources whence temptations arise are 
 the Devil and the flesh ; or, in other words, our great 
 spiritual adversary, and the traitorous correspondence 
 which he meets with from the heart of man. Now the 
 heart being, according to the sure testimony of God's 
 Word, deceitful above all things, and Satan's method 
 of operation, too, being by stratagem rather than open 
 violence, the first method, therefore, of meeting 
 temptation aright must be to meet it wisely. Policy 
 
m."| Fight wisely. 201 
 
 must be opposed by policy according to the warning of 
 the Holy Apostle : " Lest Satan should get an advan- 
 tage over us ; for \re are not ignorant of his devices." 
 
 How then shall we fight wisely ? This is our ques- 
 tion in the present Chapter. 
 
 Now to fight wisely is not to fight at a venture, but 
 with a definite aim. " So fight I," says the Apostle, 
 "not as one that beateth the air." In which words he 
 is drawing an image from the boxing-match in the 
 Isthmian games, and declares that in the spiritual com- 
 bat, he does not wear out his strength by vain flour- 
 ishes of his hands in the air, but plants each blow cer- 
 tainly and with a telling aim [ovtcd TrvKxeuco ws ovk aipa 
 depwv). 
 
 We read indeed that King Ahab was shot by an 
 arrow sent at a venture, that is, without deliberate aim : 
 but this is told us to magnify the Providence of 
 Almighty God, who in His designs of wrath, can direct 
 the aimless shaft whithersoever it pleases Him ; not 
 surely to teach us that aimless shafts are likely on com- 
 mon occasions to be successful. Yet what is the warfare 
 of many earnest and well-intentioned Christians but the 
 sending of shafls at a venture 1 They have a certain 
 notion that they must resist the evil within and without 
 them ; but then this evil presents itself in so many 
 forms, that they are bewildered and confounded, and 
 know not where to begin. And so it often comes to 
 pass that their time and labour is thrown away in re- 
 pressing symptoms, where they should be applying 
 their whole energy to the seat of the disorder. 
 
 On the other hand, the first work of the politic 
 spiritual warrior will be to discover his besetting sin, or 
 sins, and having discovered it, to concentrate all his 
 disposable force before this fortress. 
 9* 
 
202 Fight wisely. [paet 
 
 Just as each individual has a certain personal con- 
 figuration, distinguishing him from all other men at 
 first sight; just as his hair has a certain colour, his 
 limbs a certain make, his features a certain cast ; or 
 just as each of us is said to be born into the Avorld 
 with some one defective organ, be it heart, liver, or 
 lungs ; so in the moral constitution of each individual 
 there is some sin or sins, which more than others is 
 comformable to his temperament, and therefore more 
 easily developed by his circumstances, — which expresses 
 far more of his character than others. This bosom sin 
 has eminently the attribute which the Apostle ascribes 
 to all sin ; it is eminently deceitful. Its especial pro- 
 perty is to lurk : sometimes it puts on the mask of a 
 a virtue or a grace, not unfrequently that of some other 
 sin ; but naasked somehow or other it loves to be, and 
 the longer Satan can keep it masked, the better it 
 serves his purpose. 
 
 Let us give some examples of a bosom sin thus 
 masking itself. With a very large proportion of man- 
 kind, the besetting sin is vanity. Who knows not 
 how this detestable sin frequently apes humility, so as 
 really to impress its possessor with the notion that he 
 is humble'? Intensely self-satisfied in his heart of 
 hearts, he depreciates himself, his talents, his successes, 
 his efforts in conversation. What follows 1 A natural 
 reaction of public sentiment in his favour. Men say 
 to him, as in the Parable, " Go up higher." He has 
 been fishing for compliments, and compliments have 
 risen to the hook. Is it not so ? For would he not 
 have bitterly resented it in the inner man, had any of 
 the company taken him at his w^ord, and coolly 
 answered to his self-depreciation, " What you say about 
 the inferiority of your talents, and the paucity of your 
 
ni.] Fight wisely. 203 
 
 successes, is no doubt perfectly true?" True the 
 words may have been ; but he did not say them 
 because they were true, but because his lust of com- 
 mendation craved some smooth word which might 
 pamper it. Here is the bosom-adder of vanity coiled 
 up in the violet-tuft of humility. To take another 
 case. It is pait of some men's character, as their 
 friends would phrase it for them, that they cannot bear 
 to be second. Whatever they do must be done (I do 
 not say commendably well, for all things that are 
 worth doing ought to be done commendably well), but 
 superlatively well, brilliantly, so as to throw into the 
 shade all competitors. Accordingly, they are disposed 
 to decline or abandon all pursuits in which they feel 
 that they can never excel. Now what is this feeling, 
 when we bring it into the court of conscience, and 
 come to examine and scrutinize its ground % The 
 world dignifies it with the name of honourable emula- 
 tion, and accepts it as a token of a fine character. 
 And thus much is true, and may not be denied, that 
 there is usually some stuff in the characters, whose 
 leading principle is such as I have described. In that 
 singular way in which one principle hangs together 
 with another, like bees clustering on a flower, or limpets 
 on a wee4y rock, this emulation as it is called, is 
 somehow connected and intertwined with that energy 
 and resolve which are the raw material from which 
 earthly greatness is manufactured. But, judged by the 
 mind of our Lord Jesus, which is the" one standard of 
 saintlincss, how does the sentiment sound, " Because I 
 cannot be brilliant, so as to outshine all rivals, therefore 
 I will be nothing'?" It jars strangely, I think, with 
 the music of those words, "The kings of the Gentiles 
 exercise lordship over them: and they that exercise 
 
204 » Fight wisely. [part 
 
 authority upon them are called benefactors. But ye 
 shall not be so : but he that is greatest among you, let 
 him be as the younger, and he that is chief as he that 
 doth serve." And again with those ; " Let nothing be 
 done through strife or vain glory ; but in lowliness of 
 mind let each esteem other better than himself." And 
 again with that touching expression of our Lord's 
 humility, prophetically foreseen and predicted by the 
 Psalmist, long years before His coming in the flesh : 
 " Lord, I am not high-minded ; I have no proud looks. 
 I do not exercise myself in great matters which are too 
 high for me ; but I refrain my soul and keep it low, 
 like as a child that is weaned from his mother ; yea, 
 my soul is even as a weaned child." Alas ! when we 
 apply to this feeling the Ithuriel spear of God's Word 
 and Christ's Example, we find it to be the bosom-adder 
 of vanity again, lurking under the marigold of honour- 
 able emulation. 
 
 Again ; a bosom sin, that it may be the more easily 
 escape detection and eradication, will wear to a super- 
 ficial observer the mask of another sin. Indolence, for 
 example, is a sin which carries with it in its train many 
 omissions of duty, and specially of religious duty. 
 Prayer or Scripture reading is omitted or thrust away 
 into a corner, and gone through perfunctori^^, because 
 we have not risen sufficiently early to give room for it. 
 Things go cross during the day in consequence ; irrita- 
 bility of temper not soothed by God's Blessing, or 
 calmed by His Presence, throws our affairs into a 
 tangle. We trace it all up to the omission of Prayer, 
 of which we accuse ourselves. But the fault lies 
 deeper. It was not really an indisposition to Prayer 
 which kept us from it. It was indolence which really 
 caused the mischief. 
 
III.] Fight wisely. 205 
 
 One of the first properties, then, of the bosom sin 
 with which it behoves ns to be well acquainted, as the 
 first step in the management of our spiritual warfare, 
 is its property of concealing itself. In consequence of 
 this property, it often happens that a man, when 
 touched upon his weak point, answers that whatever 
 other faults he may have, this fault at least is no part 
 of his character. This circumstance, then, may furnish 
 one clue to the discovery ; of whatever fault you feel 
 that, if accused of it, you would be stung ajid nettled 
 by the apparent injustice of the charge, suspect your- 
 self of that fault, — in that quarter very probably lies 
 the black spot of the bosom sin. If the skin is in any 
 part sensitive to pressure, there is probably mischief 
 below the surface. 
 
 What has been said, however, requires a little 
 modification. In very strong characters, where the 
 bias of the will is very decided, the ruling passion can 
 hardly help disclosing itself to its possessor and to 
 those around him. Sensuality, for example, and an 
 insatiable ambition proclaim themselves aloud in the 
 ears of the conscience, and this is St. Paul's meaning 
 when he says, " Some men's sins are open beforehand, 
 going before to judgment." But the far more usual 
 case is that described in the wor(Js which follow, " And 
 some men they follow after." Tlieir sins, their weak 
 points, do not transpire till after a long and familiar 
 acquaintance with them ; they are subtle and evasive, 
 and sometimes intertwined with the fibres of what is 
 good in them. 
 
 It is to aid in brinj^ing to lis^ht these secret sins that 
 we make the following suggestions. 
 
 First, then, praying heartily for the light of God's 
 
206 Fight wisely. [part 
 
 Spirit to know thine own heart, observe and reason 
 upon the results of Self-examination. When this most 
 salutary exercise has been pursued for a certain time, 
 you will observe that the same failures are constantly 
 recurring, just as in Prayer the same wants daily re- 
 cur ; so that though the words of our prayers may be 
 a little varied, (and it is more free and pleasant to vary 
 them a little,) the things that we pray for are always 
 substantially the same. The conclusion is almost in- 
 evitable that there is something serious beneath these 
 constantly recurring failures. What is it? In what 
 one direction do all the phenomena point % To selfish- 
 ness % or to indolence 1 or to vanity 1 or to want of sin- 
 cerity and simplicity of character 1 or to the fear of 
 man and human respect ? or to discontent ? or to world- 
 ly anxiety ? Remember always, that in the symptom, 
 and on the surface, it may look like none of these sins, 
 and yet be really and fundamentally one of them. Say 
 , often while engaged in the search, " Blessed Spirit^ it is 
 Thy office to convince of sin. Help me to seek the^ 
 ' ground of my heart, and to drag into the light of day \ 
 my hidden corruptions, for Jesus Christ's sake;" and\ 
 your search, if conducted in this method and spirit, will / 
 not long be fruitless. 
 
 Another plan may just be mentioned as helpful in 
 the discovery of our bosom sin. Let us have our eye 
 upon the occurrences which specially give us pain or 
 pleasure : they will often be veriest trifles, — an expres- 
 sion of opinion, or sneer, a mere passing breath of hu- 
 man praise or censure, which goeth away, and cometh 
 not again ; but yet, be it what it may, if it touches us 
 to the quick, the probabilities are, that by tracing it to 
 its source we shall get to the quick of our character, to 
 that sensitive quarter of it where the bosom-adder lies 
 
ni.] Fight ivisely. 207 
 
 coiled up. Whence those tears of vexation*? whence 
 that pang of annoyance % whence that gleam of sunshine 
 shooting across the heart on an otherwise gusty day ? 
 Let us trace them to the principles from which they arosa, 
 and we shall have made some advance towards the de- 
 sired discovery. 
 
 When the discovery is made, the path of the spiri- 
 tual combatant becomes clear, however arduous. Your 
 fighting is to be no longer a flourishing of the arms in 
 the air ; it is to assume a definite form, it is to be a 
 combat with the bosom sin. Appropriate mortifica- 
 tions must be adopted, such as common sense will sug- 
 gest, varying with the nature of the sin, and combined 
 always with a heartfelt acknowledgment of our utter 
 weakness, and with a silent but fervent prayer for the 
 Grace of Almighty God. If indolence be the beset- 
 ting sin, we must watch against slovenliness in little 
 things, which is the mild form of the complaint ; if 
 selfishness, we must lay ourselves out to consider and 
 gratify the wishes of others ; if vanity, we must se- 
 cretly bless God in our heart for all mortifications of 
 it, and particularly avoid the snare of speaking hum- 
 bly of ourselves ; if discontent, we must review, in 
 our seasons of devotion, the many bright points of our 
 position, and seek our happiness in our work ; if hu- 
 man respect, we must habituate ourselves to look at our 
 actions as we shall look at them when the judgment of 
 God upon them will be the only matter of importance ; 
 if sensuality, the discipline of fasting and abstinence 
 from some innocent enjoyments must be used as far as 
 health permits. Our Lord having implied this in the 
 strongest possible manner when He said of a certain 
 kind of evil spirits, " This kind gocth not out but by 
 prayer and fasting.'" 
 
208 Fight wisely. [pakt 
 
 But the great matter to be attended to in each case 
 is, that the whole forces of the will should be concen- 
 trated for a time in that one part of the field, in which 
 the besetting sin has intrenched itself. Thus point and 
 definiteness will be given to Christian effort, the impor- 
 tance of which has been already shown ; we shall not 
 lose our time, or waste our strength, as those who in 
 fighting beat the air ; and we shall find doubtless, that 
 in supplanting the besetting sin, we shall be also weak- 
 ening the vitality of subordinate faults of character, 
 which cluster together round that one nucleus. 
 
 Let me say finally, that for each one of us, no busi- 
 ness can be of more pressing moment, of more ur- 
 gent importance, than this discovery of our besetting 
 sin. The bosom sin in Grace exactly resembles a 
 strong current in nature, which is setting full upon dan- 
 gerous shoals and quicksands. If in your spiritual 
 computation you do not calculate upon your besetting 
 sin, upon its force, its ceaseless operation, and its art- 
 .fulness, it will sweep you on noiselessly, and with 
 every appearance of calm, but surely and effectually, to 
 your ruin. So may we see a gallant ship leave the 
 dock, fairly and bravely rigged, and with all her pen- 
 nons flying ; and the, high sea, when she has cleft her 
 way into it, is unwrinkled as the brow of childhood, 
 and seems to laugh with many a twinkling smile ; and 
 when night falls, the moonbeam dances upon the wave, 
 and the brightness of the day has left a delicious balm- 
 iness behind it in the air, and the ship is anchored neg- 
 ligently and feebly, and all is then still save the gentle 
 drowsy gurgling which tells that water is the element 
 in which she floats ; but in the dead of the night, 
 the anchor loses its holds, and then the current^ 
 deep and powerful, bears her noiselessly whither it will ; 
 
m.] Fight ivisely. 209 
 
 and in the morning the wail of desperation rises from 
 her decks, for she has flillen on the shoal, and the dis- 
 consolateness of the dreary twilight, as the breeze 
 springs with the daybreak, and with rude impact dashes 
 her planks angrily against the rock, contrasts strangely 
 with the comfort and peacefulness of the past eve- 
 ning. Such was the doom of Judas Iscariot. Blessed 
 with the companionship of Our Lord Himself, dignified 
 with the Apostleship, and adorned with all the high 
 graces which that vocation involved, he was blinded to 
 the undercurrent of his character, which set in the di- 
 rection of the Mammon of unrighteousness, and which 
 eventually ensured for him an irretrievable fall. 
 
 In conclusion, he who prays (as we should all do), 
 " Show me myself, Lord," should take good care to 
 add, lest self-knowledge plunge him into despair, " Show 
 me also Thyself" The course recommended in this 
 chapter, if honestly adopted, will probably lead us to 
 the conclusion that our heart, which showed so fliir 
 without, is but a whited sepulchre, an Augean stable, 
 full of corruptions and disorders, which it requires a 
 moral Hercules to cleanse ; but, blessed be God, the 
 Love of Christ, and the Blood of Christ, and the Grace 
 of Christ are stronger than ten thousand depravities 
 and corruptions, though riveted down to the soul by 
 the chain of evil habit. And when God exhibits to the 
 soul His Love, as mirrored in those bleeding Wounds, 
 and the omnipotence of His free Grace, the energy 
 which is felt there is great enough to crush any and 
 every foe. The gentlest touch of God's finger upon 
 the soul is like the touch of the dawn upon the dark 
 horizon. Birds waken and trill their notes, and leaves 
 flutter in the fresh breeze, and there is an electric thrill 
 of joy and hope through the whole domain of nature. 
 
210 Of the Nature of Temptation, [paet 
 
 My reader, thy whole soul shall leap up at that touch ; 
 holy affections shall lift up their hymn of praise with 
 thee, and thy heart shall flutter with mingled awe 
 mid joy, and thou shalt know that thou hast found thy 
 Lord. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 OF THE NATURE OF TEMPTATION. 
 " Then was Jems. . . . tempted of the devils — ^Matt. iv. 1. 
 
 A Devotional writer of the present day, in answer to 
 the question, " How are we to overcome temptations 1 " 
 says, " Cheerfulness is the first thing, cheerfulness is 
 the second, and cheerfulness is the third." It is very 
 true. Faint heart never won any thing that was worth 
 winning, — least of all a spiritual battle. Whereas vic- 
 tories have often been won against fearful odds by some 
 news which have raised the spirits of the troops. 
 Lightness and brightness of heart, and an unfailing 
 elasticity of spirit, must characterize the good soldier 
 of Jesus Christ, if he is to break his Way to the heavenly 
 country through the serried ranks of his spiritual foes. 
 
 Having considered, then, in our last Chapter how we 
 may meet temptation wisely, the question now arises, 
 an answer to which is scarcely necessary to success, how 
 we may meet it cheerfully. And it will be found, I 
 apprehend, that a want of cheerfulness in meeting tempt- 
 ation is due to a misapprehension either of its nature, 
 or of the support which may be expected in it, or of its 
 salutary effects. 
 
 We shall speak in this Chapter of its nature. 
 
in.] Of the Nature of Temptation. 211 
 
 It has been said of the eagle, — and if natural history 
 will not bear it out, the piety with which the fable has 
 been applied serves to reconcile us to the fiction, — that 
 the parent bird practises the young to fly by dropping 
 them, when half-fledged, from her wings; and that, 
 when the breeze is proving too strong for them, and 
 their little pinions begin to flag and waver amid the 
 resistance of the air, she swoops underneath them, hav- 
 ing indeed never lost sight of them for an instant, and 
 receives them again upon her own person, and sails on 
 with them majestically as before. And the circum- 
 stance, real or imagined, has been called in to illustrate 
 that exquisite passage in the song of Moses : " As an 
 eagle stirreth up her nest, fluttereth over her young, 
 spreadeth abroad her wings, taketh them, beareth them 
 on her wings ; so the Lord alone did lead him, and there 
 was no strange god with him." 
 
 At all events, whether the eagle disciplines her 
 young or no in the exact manner described above, — and 
 the text does not go the length of saying this, — we have 
 in the supposed fact a most true representation of the 
 way in which God proves His children, while they are 
 yet spiritually fledgelings, and of the sense of danger, 
 utter dismay, piteous cries for help, which such proba- 
 tion involves. At the beginning of the spiritual life, 
 when the first fervours of conversion are upon a man, 
 when he has fully declared for Christ in his own mind, 
 or, in other words, has realized in his own experience 
 the conditions on which Baptism was granted, he is al- 
 most sure to dream of Heaven at once, and to overlook 
 that long period of struggle, discomfort, and uncertain- 
 ty through which he must pass on this side the' grave^ 
 before he can attain a meetness for glory. It is just as 
 if an Israelite had dreamed of entering into the land 
 
212 Of the Nature of Temptation. [part 
 
 flowing with milk and honey immediately after the 
 Exodus, and had overlooked "the waste, howling 
 wilderness " lying between Egypt and Canaan. That 
 history is w^onderfully typical; and beginners in re- 
 ligion will do well to bear in mind the arrangement of 
 its several parts. Egypt is a figure of the world, which 
 lies under the dominion of Satan, the spiritual Pharaoh. 
 The passage of the Red Sea is a figure of Baptism, 
 which stands at the threshold of spiritual life. The 
 passage of Jordan is a figure of death ; and the earthly 
 Canaan is a figure of the heavenly. Of what, then, is 
 the wilderness, with its arid sand, its barren sun- 
 smitten crags, its fiery serpents, a picture % Of the 
 Christian's pilgrimage through the regions of manifold 
 temptations, — temptations which for the first time 
 awake in all their power, like winds blowing from all 
 the four quarters of heaven, as soon as he becomes an 
 earnest Christian, or, as I have phrased it in other 
 words, as soon as he realizes his Baptism. So long as 
 he moved in the groove of formalism, and contented 
 himself with a religion of stated ordinances, opposition 
 was comparatively asleep ; but now, when he stirs him- 
 self energetically in the right direction, it seems as if 
 God had given His summons to the winds to sweep 
 over the garden of the soul : " Awake, O north wind ; 
 and come, thou south ; blow upon my garden." We 
 are much distressed, like the eagle's fledgelings, when 
 she drops them. At every step, w^e discover some new 
 corruption of the heart, some new force of sinful pas- 
 sion, or habit, which baffles and beats us back. One 
 besetting sin ! we flattered ourselves w^e had but one ; 
 but, lo ! their name is legion. The effort which it is 
 necessary to make, in order to maintain w^atchfulncss 
 for a day, fatigues us, — is quite too much for our 
 
III.] Of the Nature of Temi^tation. 213 
 
 strength. A crop of little trials spring up, which there 
 is no sort of dignity in resisting or conquering, resulting 
 perhaps from un evenness of temper in ourselves and 
 those we live with, — teasing trials, though of no mag- 
 nitude, just as flies tease us in the warm weather ; they 
 make us lose our equilibrium, and all for a trifle, which 
 is very humbling. Then we secretly hoped to find a 
 resource in Prayer, and looked perhaps to the evening 
 hour of devotion as a period when we would sound the 
 trumpet, and rally our scattered forces. But, alas ! we 
 cannot pray without such distractions as render the 
 prayer barren, dry, and apparently profitless. In 
 meditation, we find it impossible to fisten our mind to 
 the point, and seem to waste a greal deal of time in 
 making the effort. And then comes the thought, so 
 perfectly familiar to all who have ever sought sincerely 
 to give themselves unto Prayer, — a thought suspected, 
 while admitted, like a foreigner upon whose movements 
 the police are charged to have their eye, but still 
 admitted — that if Prayer cannot be offered with fluency 
 and glow of feeling and satisfaction to our own minds, 
 it had better not be offered at all. And when the faldstool 
 is abandoned in a fit of peevishness and disgust, the 
 struggle is over for the day ; it is as when the weak 
 pinion of the young bird drops motionless by its side, 
 and a steady descent thenceforth commences. The 
 same feelings of disappointment and despondency, on a 
 larger scale, corresponding to the magnitude of the 
 occasion, beset us frequently after receiving the Holy 
 Communion. We looked for the strengthening and 
 refreshing of our souls, and really wound ourselves up 
 to as much devotion as we were capable of; but, on the 
 contrary, the whole of our inner man seems to collapse 
 with the eff()rt, and to lie open more than ever to the 
 
214 Of the Nature of Temptation. • [paet 
 
 assaults of indolence, softness, levity and dissipation of 
 mind. In a word, we are made to discover that the 
 harder we struggle against the Devil, and the flesh, the 
 harder they struggle against us ; according to that pro- 
 found word of the Apostle's, " The flesh lusteth against 
 the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh." 
 
 Now it is not the business of the present Chapter to 
 discuss at length the supports of the tempted soul. 
 These are matters for after consideration. Yet I can- 
 not help so far forestalling this part of the subject, as to 
 remark that the eagle, w^atching her young with keen 
 eye, and sweeping beneath them with outstretched 
 wing, as she sees them faint with exhaustion, — that our 
 Lord walking on the waters, and stretching forth His 
 hand to Peter when He saw him sinking, — that these 
 similitudes give the exactly true idea of the relations 
 between Christ and the tempted soul. If thou hast not 
 yet finally abandoned the struggle ; if thou hast again 
 picked up thy resolve, and taken heart for a new 
 resistance, — why is it ? This recovery, this pause in 
 the downward career, was not of thyself. It was the 
 Divine Eagle, swooping beneath her young, as, drooping 
 and baffled, they commenced a downward course ; it 
 was the Lord stretching forth His saving hand, and* 
 catching the poor disciple before he was altogether 
 engulphed. The mere fact, than which nothing can be 
 more certain, that He is looking on with keenest 
 interest, while humbling thee, and proving thee, to see 
 what is in thine heart ; — that he is near at hand to 
 give succour when He sees the right moment to have 
 arrived, a little above thee in the sky, or close at thy 
 side upon the billow ; — that His Omnipotence, His Love, 
 His Wisdom, are all engaged in administering the 
 temptation, in meting it out, in adjusting it to thy 
 
m.] Of the Nature of Temptation. 215 
 
 strength, in not allowing it to proceed to undue lengths 
 — this of itself should prov^ a cordial to thy heart, and 
 invigorate thee to pursue the course on which thou hast 
 entered. 
 
 But a great deal of the distress, wdiich many persons 
 under temptations" experience, arises from their not 
 understanding the nature of temptation. In the early 
 stages of spiritual life, more especially, persons often 
 flounder from having crude and ill-defined notions on 
 the subject. They have a certain vague idea that peace 
 and quietness of mind are essential to a right state ; 
 and as temptation, of course, destroys peace and quiet- 
 ness, and makes turbid the waters of the soul, they 
 conblude that temptation indicates a wrong state. 
 Hence they have a feeling of guilt connected with 
 temptation, which adds very muph to the ordinary dis- 
 comforts of it. They need to be instructed that tempta- 
 tion is not sin ; and that not until the will consents 
 to it, — not until it is wilfully entertained and cherished, 
 — does temptation become sin. Nay, we may go further. 
 Temptation is not always even a sign of a sinful nature. 
 It is quite possible that its appeal may be made to 
 feelings, which in themselves are perfectly pure and 
 innocent. Our Lord's temptation is a proof of this. 
 We are told, "on the one hand, that He was " tempted 
 in all points like as we are ," and we are told, on the 
 other; that He was " without sin ; " — not merely with- 
 out sins^ but " without sin^ that is without the sinful 
 tendency or principle. Yet that His trials both in the 
 wilderness, at the commencement of His ministry, and 
 in the Garden of Gethsemane at its close, were most 
 agonizing, there can be no question. There was a will 
 in Our Blessed Lord, as there is in us, which shrunk 
 from every form of physical and mental suffering. 
 
216 Oj the Nature of Temptation. [paet 
 
 Satan had access to His imagination, and filled it with 
 pictures of the ease, comfort, dignity, power which He 
 might enjoy, if He would only abandon the great 
 project of Human Redemption, sketched out before the 
 world began in the counsels of the Eternal Three. 
 There was an inward voice which seconded Peter's 
 words, when he dissuaded from suffering and death, and 
 counselled softer things. Oar Lord knew whose voice 
 it was, and that Peter was only the mouthpiece who 
 gave it articulation ; and accordingly, He turns upon 
 the Apostle with the sternest word of reproof which 
 ever escaped His lips, " Get thee behind me, Satan ; thou 
 art an offence" (snare, stumbling-block) "unto me; for 
 thou savourest not the things that be of God, but those 
 that be of men." 
 
 But it is doubted \yhether, with sinful men like our- 
 selves, temptations can be addressed to us, which shall 
 not correspond with any corrupt and depraved feeling, 
 but shall fasten only upon some innocent principle ? 
 The trial of Abraham's faith is a case in point. . He 
 was commanded by God to slay his son. The tempta- 
 tion was severe just in proportion as Abraham's 
 parental affection was strong ; it was this affection, a 
 pure and innocent one surely, which was made the in- 
 strument of the temptation. And, to come down to 
 our own circumstances, there is no difficulty in imagin- 
 ing the case of a man tempted by hunger to steal food, 
 or pressed to do the same thing by the necessities of 
 those dependent on him ; or of another, tempted by his 
 very faith in God's love and goodness to presumption. 
 Temptation then, and our accessibility to it, is not 
 always a proof even of a sinful nature. Sometimes, of 
 course, it does prove this ; for such disorders have crept 
 into the human heart with the Fall, that its great 
 
III.] Of the Nature of Temptation, 217 
 
 original affections have to a great extent lost their 
 character by fastening upon wrong ends ; — anger has 
 become irritability and peevishness, fear has degenerat- 
 ed into human respect, forethought has corrupted into 
 anxiety, and generous emulation has soured into dis- 
 content ; and though anger, fear, forethought, and 
 emulation be in their raio material no sins, we cannot 
 say as much of their degeneracies. Still, even where a 
 man is tempted by means of these corrupt and degen- 
 erate feelings, though it may be an evidence of that 
 " infection of nature, which doth remain, yea in them 
 that are regenerated ; " yea, though he may be hedged 
 in and sore beset by them on all sides, he still commits 
 no sin, unless his will in some meas-ure consents to or 
 encourages them. And as to the guilt arising from 
 the corruption of our nature, it has been the constant 
 doctrine of the Church, that it is removed by the 
 Sacrament of Baptism, when that Sacrament has been 
 realized, in the individual's experience, by Faith. 
 " There is now no condemnation," says our Ninth 
 Article, " for them that believe and are baptized," 
 though " the Apostle doth Confess that concupiscence 
 and lust hath of itself the nature of sin." 
 
 See now, tempted soul, whether this consideration, 
 applied to thine own case, may not somewhat lighten 
 thy burden. You are beset by distractions in Prayer 
 and Meditation. Well ; distractions are no sin ; nay, 
 if struggled against patiently and cheerfully, they shall 
 be a jewel in thy crown. Did you go through with 
 the religious exercise as well as you could, not willing- 
 ly harbouring the distraction or consenting to it ? In 
 this case, the prayer was quite as acceptable, as if it 
 had been accompanied with those high-floNvn feelings of 
 10 
 
218 Of the Nature of Temptation. [paet 
 
 fervour and sensible delight which God sometimes gives, 
 and sometimes, for our better discipline and humilia- 
 tion, withholds. Nay, may we. not say, that it was 
 much more acceptable 1 Do not the Scriptures give 
 us reason to think that prayer, persevering amidst 
 difficulties and humiliations, prayer clinging close to 
 Christ, despite His rebuffs, is more acceptable than the 
 prayer which has its way smooth before it, and whose 
 wings are filled by the favouring gale 1 What else are 
 we to learn from the acceptance of Bartimseus's peti- 
 tion, who cried so much the more, when the multitude 
 rebuked him that he should hold his peace ? What 
 else from the commendation and recompense of the 
 Syrophoenician's faith 1 Wouldst thou know the 
 avenue to the Saviour's heart, when thou art driven 
 from His footstool by manifold discouragements, by 
 deadness, numbness, insensibility, — and He Himself 
 seems to cover Himself with a cloud, so that thy prayer 
 may not pass through ? Confess thyself a dog, and 
 plead for such crumbs as are the dog's allowed and 
 recognized portion. Call to mind the many times 
 when thou hast turned a deaf ear to Christ's expos- 
 tulations with thee through thy conscience. Eeflect 
 that thou hast deserved nothing but repulses, and to 
 have all thy drafts upon Him dishonoured ; and yet 
 cling to His Sacred Feet, while thou sinkest thus low 
 before Him, resolving not to let Him go, except He 
 bless thee ; and this act of humility and perseverance 
 shall make thy lame and halting prayer far more 
 acceptable to the Divine Majesty than if it sailed to 
 Heaven, with all the fluency of conscious inspiration, 
 like Balaam's prophecy of old, which was prefaced, un- 
 happy soul ! by the assertion of his gifts. 
 
Tn.] Of the Nature of Temiotat'wn. 219 
 
 Again ; mere feelings of irritability, indolence, im- 
 purity, collapse, weariness, partisanship, unkindness, 
 suspiciousness, and so forth, are not in themselves sins. 
 They must be consented to and harboured before they 
 can become so. Just as musicians prelude their pieces 
 by a flourish, so Satan occasionally runs his fingers 
 over the key-board of the mind, awakening all these 
 feelings, in their turn, and confounding us by the con- 
 sciousness of the amount of evil which there is within. 
 But there is still no sin, so long as we reject and re- 
 nounce these feelings, and thrust them out by prayer 
 and instant application to some useful work. Our 
 minds may be rendered uncomfortable by them, or, 
 as the Apostle Peter phrases, we may be " in heaviness 
 through manifold temptations;" but heaviness and 
 discomfort are no sins. Nay, heaviness of spirit, 
 resulting from temptation, is the Cross of the Garden 
 laid on us by Him who bore it in Gethsemane ; and it 
 is a great honour and privilege to be called upon, like 
 the three chosen ones of the chosen, to come and watch 
 with Him for one short hour. 
 
 Yes ! multitudinous temptations are, indeed, a great 
 dignity, as helping to assimilate us to the image of 
 Christ ; and, if we comport ourselves well under them, 
 a great means of spiritual advancement. When a hard 
 winter sets in, and the earth is covered with a mantle 
 of snow, and each little knot and spray in the hedgerow 
 is encrusted with icicles, vegetation seems to be killed, 
 and every green thing blighted. But it is not so. The 
 genial forces of the earth are" driven inward, and work- 
 ing deep in her bosom. The snoV mantle is doing for 
 her what the fur mantle docs for the human frame, — 
 concentrating and preserving the vital heat within. So 
 
220 Of the Nature of Temptation. [part 
 
 it is in Temptation : the time of temptation is a 
 cheerless and dreary hour, when everything seems at 
 a standstill, and the spiritual pulse can no longer be 
 heard, it beats so faintly to the outward touch : but if 
 the will is faithful and true, and the soul patient, the 
 life is really concentrating itself, and rallying its forces 
 within. The cheerless outward aspect is nothing ; — 
 there are hidden agencies at work, which in due time 
 shlill bring out the full bloom and redolence of a 
 spiritual spring. There have been moderate Christians, 
 there have been shallow Christians, without very much 
 temptation ; but there never yet was a saintly Chris- 
 tian, never yet one who pressed to the higher sum- 
 mits of the spiritual life, never one, whose banner 
 bore the strange device '' Excelsior," who wajs not made 
 the victim of manifold temptations. There are many 
 good men in the world who seem to live in a continual 
 light gaiety and sunshine of heart, and yet whom it 
 would be quite wrong and wide of the mark to reckon 
 irreligious men ; they pay a very unfeigned attention 
 to the concerns of Religion, are in high esteem both for 
 kindness and prudence, are counted examples in their 
 social circle, and are in their way devout, — and all 
 this without seeming to find much difficulty and im- 
 pediment. If they are what they appear to be, they 
 are not deep men ; and while we may not for a mo- 
 ment judge them otherwise than charitably, we need 
 not for a moment envy them. When God besets the 
 soul with temptations, He is calling it to something 
 high in spiritual enterprise, and great in spiritual 
 attainment. Let us recognize it as being so, and pray 
 earnestly not to frustrate the vocation by the per- 
 versity and sluggishness of our own wills. 
 
III.] Fight loith Distrust in Self, dx. 22? 
 
 "My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into 
 divers temptations ; knowing this, that the trying of 
 your faith worketh patience. But let patience have 
 her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, 
 wanting nothing." 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 FIGHT WITH DISTEUST IN SELF AND TEUST IN 
 CHEI8T, 
 
 "And in the fourth watch of the night Jesus went unto them^ 
 ibalking on the sea. And when the disciples saw him, 
 walking on the sea they were troubled^ saying^ It is a 
 spirit: and they cried out for fear. But straightway Jesus 
 spake unto them, saying, Be of good cheer ; it is I: he not 
 afraid. And Peter answered him and said, Lord, if it be 
 thou, bid me come unto thee on the water. And he said, 
 Come. And when Peter was come down out of the ship, 
 he walked on the water, to go to Jesus. But when he saw 
 the wind boisterous, he was afraid; and beginning to sink, 
 he cried, saying. Lord, save me. And immediately Jesui 
 stretched forth his hand, and caught him, and said unto him^ 
 thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt ? " — Matt. 
 xiv. 25—31. 
 
 The harmony with themselves of the characters de- 
 scribed in Scripture is a proof that these characters 
 really existed, — an internal evidence in favour of the 
 authenticity of the Bible. It would be very difficult 
 for an impostor, for example, to frame two such in- 
 cidents as St. Peter's failure in his attempt to walk 
 upon the waters, and St. Peter's denial of his Master, 
 
222 Fight with Distrust in Self [paet 
 
 both exhibiting precisely the same weak point in the 
 Apostle's character under circumstances totally differ- 
 ent. Or, had he framed them, he would not have thrown 
 them out, as St. Matthew has done, far apart from one 
 another in the narrative without any remark to connect 
 them ; but would have given his reader some hint that, 
 if compared and set side by side, they would be seen to 
 have, under great diversities, a similarity of principle. 
 As it is, the coincidence is too subtle to have been de- 
 signed : and we cannot otherwise account for it, than by 
 supposing St. Peter to have been an actually existing 
 man, whose sayings and doings are recorded ; and the 
 same points of character are constantly coming out in 
 the same man, whatever the variety of circumstances 
 in which he is placed. 
 
 But when pointed out, the coincidence is full of in- 
 terest. It is interesting to see St. Peter's boast of 
 attachment to Christ, and St. Peter's fall both rehearsed 
 beforehand, as it were, to a private audience, when 
 comparatively little was at stake. The Apostle was 
 enthusiastically attached to his Master, and conscious 
 of the strength of his attachment. He was also bold 
 with all the boldness of cliivalry, presumptuous, and 
 self-reliant. These latter qualities procured for him a 
 tremendous fall in the great crisis of the apprehension 
 of Christ ; but they had procured for him already a fall 
 in a previous lesser crisis. Then, too, as just before his 
 denial, he had virtually professed his faith in Christ, 
 and his attachment to Christ, and had challenged a trial 
 of that faith and that attachment : " Lord, if it be Thou, 
 bid me come unto Thee on the water." Then, too, he 
 had gone on well, and in pursuance of his professions, 
 up to a certain time, walking on the waters for a few 
 paces, just as on the latter occasion he drew his sword 
 
III.] and Trust in Christ. 223 
 
 and smote a servant of the High Priest, and cut off his 
 ear. Then, too, he had failed after the expiration of a 
 time, and exposed himself to the remarks of his less 
 enterprising colleagues, as being unable to go through 
 with that which he had begun : when he saw the wind 
 boisterous, his heart failed him, and he was afraid, and 
 began to sink. Thus both his trial, and his short- 
 coming in trial, had been practised, if I may so say, 
 beforehand. 
 
 Now here at once a thought meets us, very necessary 
 to be dwelt upon, in discussing the subject of Tempta- 
 tions. Temptations, then, are not always of the same 
 magnitude, or on the same scale. Occasionally only, in 
 the course of a lifetime, some great crisis comes to 
 approve the steadfastness of our Christian Principle. 
 There are inducements to form a connexion which is 
 doubtful, or to desert a right cause which is becoming 
 unpopular, or to be lenient in condemning evil, or to 
 hazard a crooked policy for a great gain or a high dis- 
 tinction. These great opportunities, however, occur but 
 seldom. Days and days wear away, each of them 
 formative of our character, — each of them leaving upon 
 that character the visible stamp and impress of the 
 way in which it has been spent, — which are unmarked 
 by any momentous trial, and when our conduct is in no 
 sense before Society. These days furnish nothing more 
 than^the petty temptations to indolence, vanity, temper, 
 selfishness, loquacity, and so forth, which are never at 
 any time absent from us, and from which no sort of 
 life, whether public or private, can claim exemption. 
 Yet think not, disciple of Christ, that these petty 
 temptations are to be despised. It is in these miniature 
 trials that God rehearses His actors behind the scenes, 
 before He brings them forward on the public stage, 
 
224 Fight with Distrust in Self [part 
 
 thoroughly trained and fitted to play their parts. Pe- 
 ter's part was rehearsed upon the waves, under the eyes 
 of his kind Master and his colleagues, before he was 
 called to play it in the High Priest's palace, under hos- 
 tile criticism, and amidst the retainers of the party 
 then in power ; and had not Peter failed in his rehearsal, 
 he would probably not have failed on the more critical 
 occasion. It is a mark of a shallow or superficial mind 
 to think lightly of little temptations or of little sins. 
 Even judging according to mere magnitude, the stress 
 of many little trials, constantly harassing us day after 
 day, may be as severe an exercise of Christian patience 
 as one tremendous trial, whose duration and intensity 
 are limited. A shower of needle arrows — such as those 
 with which the Lilliputians assailed Gulliver in the fa- 
 ble — steadily poured in upon us day by day would be 
 more trying than one hour's exposure to darts of an 
 ordinary size. And to do battle all day long for years 
 with temper or vanity may argue, in the sight of God, 
 as great stedfastness of principle, as the endurance of 
 the agonies of a martyr, which run their course, and 
 are terminated before sundown. But character trans- 
 pires in all circumstances, small as well as great ; and 
 if by God's grace, character takes a good shape in the 
 minor circumstances of life, it is likely to retain that 
 shape when it is more keenly sifted. Never yet was a 
 man true to Christian principle in his own little circle, 
 who became untrue to it when placed in a position of 
 trust. 
 
 And there is yet one other reason which should 
 make us highly esteem our daily small temptations, and 
 very much study our conduct in them. They are a far 
 better discipline of humility than sublimer trials. We 
 get no credit for meeting them well. No 'One but 
 
ni.] and Trust in Christ. 225 
 
 those most intimate with us— and not always ever 
 they — know how we meet them. It flatters our 
 vanity to demean ourselves well in a great crisis ; but 
 there is no dignity in resisting sins of temper or of the 
 tongue. And yet, while there is no dignity in the 
 thing achieved, there is great difficulty in the achieve- 
 ment. Now humility, if genuine, is the sweetest flower 
 which grows in the garden of God ; and any oppor- 
 tunities of cultivating it should be highly prized and 
 carefully improved. Welcome, then, little Temptations, 
 if they discipline us in this lovely grace ! These, if 
 met in faith and love, are all that is needed to mature 
 our characters for glory, — ■ 
 
 " The trivial round, the common task, 
 Will furnish all we ought to ask. 
 Room to deny ourselves, — a road 
 To bring us daily nearer God." 
 
 We have spoken of humility. The incident of St. 
 Peter's history on which we have been commenting, 
 brings out strongly his want oi it, and his failure in 
 consequence. He failed on this as on the later oc- 
 casion, just because he felt strong in himself. He 
 was conscious of his faith in Christ, and love for Christ, 
 and felt that they were strong enough to carry him 
 through any thing. It is very remarkable too — and 
 we shall miss much of the instruction conveyed by the 
 incident if we fail to remark — that the grace in which 
 he breaks down is his own characteristic grace. St. 
 Peter was a bold man, an enterprising man, a chivalrous 
 man, a generous man ; it was his boldness, enterprise, 
 chivalry, and generosity, which, sanctified by Grace, 
 were hereafter to carry him through fire and water, in 
 the service of his Master. Yet in both cases, strange 
 to say, his fall exhibits him as timorous and pusillani- 
 10" 
 
226 Fight with Distrust in Self [paut 
 
 mous, — characteristics quite opposite to those which he 
 really had. He, a hardy Galilsean fisherman, quails at 
 the bluster of the elements ; he is cowed, and lowers 
 his colours at a question from a maid-servant who kept 
 the door. It was the same with other eminent saints 
 and servants of God. Moses, who was very meek 
 above all the men that were upon the face of the earth, 
 was yet debarred from entering Canaan, because on one 
 occasion he lost his equanimity and spake unadvisedly 
 with his lips. Abraham, the father of the faithful, 
 could not believe that God would protect him at 
 Pharaoh's court, 'if he took the straightforward path of 
 confessing that Sarah was his wife. St. John, the 
 Apostle of Love, was for calling down fire from heaven 
 upon Samaritans who refused a reception to his Master. 
 All these broke down in their strong points, not in 
 their weak ones. 
 
 And the lesson which we derive from the failures of 
 all is one and the same — the extreme brittleness and 
 frailty of the human will, even in those points in which 
 it seemed most' to be relied upon. St. Peter was not 
 aware of this brittleness ; he had to be instructed in it 
 by very painful and humbling falls. He felt strong in 
 himself, able to walk upon the waves, able to do and 
 dare in his Master's service ; and consciousness of our 
 own strength is a sure forerunner of a grievous fall. 
 It was this consciousness which made him desirous to 
 approve his faith and love, by walking upon the waters 
 to meet his Master, — which made him court trial. 
 And to court trial is always a symptom which indicates 
 something unsound in the heart of the person courting 
 it, some self-reliance which mars his faith. We are 
 taught to pray, " Lead us not into temptation," — a 
 prayer which can only be offered sincerely by those who 
 
III.] and Trust in Christ. 227 
 
 feel their own utter weakness. But those, who, like 
 St. Peter, long for an opportunity of approving the 
 stedfastness of their faith, virtually pray, " Lead us 
 into temptation." And then, when led into it, and 
 w^hen it pleases God to make experiment of them, the;y 
 fail. 
 
 Then here we come across the first thought, which 
 we desire to impress upon our readers in this Chapter, 
 in connexion with Temptations. Self-trust, in however 
 small a degree, is a sure secret of failure : and if 
 hitherto we have failed again and again in meeting 
 Temptation, if our best resolves hitherto have been 
 baffled and beaten back, it will be well to examine 
 whether there be not some particle of self-reliance 
 lurking at the bottom of our hearts. It may lurk 
 there when we least suspect it. Very often it requires 
 some time and consideration to bring it to light ; very 
 often it assumes a specious and plausible shape. For 
 instance, after our falls we find that we are bitterly 
 disappointed with ourselves, disgusted with our own 
 folly and weakness, and thrown out of heart altogether 
 for future efforts. There is something in this which 
 looks well, but it will not bear probing. Why should 
 we be disappointed with self, unless we expected some- 
 thing from self, — thought secretly that self might be in 
 a measure depended upon 1 God is teaching us by our 
 falls ; but oh, how slow We are to leaj-n the lesson that 
 no amount of evil in ourselves ought to surprise us, 
 that we ought to be prepared for any thing in that 
 quarter, for any shortcoming in Grace, for any outbreak 
 of sin ! The heart is a running issue of evil ; and it is 
 not to be wondered at that the issue bursts forth 
 occasionally. If a man secretly says in himself, " I am 
 not yet as bad as that," — " I have it not in me to be 
 
228 Fight with Distrust in Self [part 
 
 so untrue to grace, so faithless to Christ as that :" — " Is 
 thj servant a dog, that he should do this great thing 1 " 
 he still thinks he has a certain reserve or stronghold of 
 virtue in his own bosom, on which he can fall back. 
 This is self-reliance, and he must be beaten out of it 
 before he can succeed against temptation, according to 
 that glorious Christian paradox of the Apostle, " When 
 I am weak " (that is thoroughly imbued with a sense 
 of my own weakness), then am I strong : " and it is 
 wonderful how this profound humility connects itself 
 with that elasticity and joyousness of spirit without 
 which a successful warfare against temptation is out of 
 the question. Constant disappointment is very wear- 
 ing to the mind, and sure to break the energies of a 
 man ; but if he has flung himself down so low that he 
 cannot be disappointed, if he has fairly given up his 
 own heart as incorrigible — which indeed it is — and is 
 looking in quite another quarter for the requisite 
 strength, it is surprising with what cheerfulness and 
 alacrity he picks himself up after he falls, wonderful 
 what a bound and buoyancy there is in the spirit which 
 can truly say to Christ, and only to Him, "All my 
 fresh springs are in Thee." 
 
 Yes ; " All my fresh springs are in Thee ! " Self- 
 distrust alone, though we must always fail without it, 
 will never by itself secure victory ; the soul M'hich 
 has made the discovery that it has nothing in itself to 
 hang upon, must hang upon Christ. This is strongly 
 and strikingly brought out in the narrative on which 
 we have been commenting. It was not till St. Peter's 
 eye was caught by the fury of the elements, by the 
 raving wind, by the boisterous surge ; it was not until 
 his attention was diverted from the Saviour, that he 
 began to sink. Had he steadily kept Christ in sight 
 
iir.] and Trust in Christ. 229 
 
 all through, it might heave gone well with him to the 
 end. So long as he was in the ship, his thoughts were 
 engaged with the majesty and power of his Lord, who 
 could even walk on the waves ; now that he is in the 
 midst of the trial which he had courted, his mind wan- 
 ders to his own danger, and his faith is shaken. 
 
 Now here comes out another point of holy policy in 
 the combat with temptations. It is wise, especially 
 when they are at their height, never to look them full 
 in the face. To consider their suggestions, to debate 
 with them, to fight it out with them inch by inch in a 
 listed field, is generally speaking, a sure way to fail. 
 Turn the mind to Christ at the first assault, and keep 
 it fixed there with pertinacity, until this tyranny 
 be overpast. Consider Him, if thou wilt, after the 
 picture here presented to us. Think of Him as One 
 who walked amidst Temptations without ever being 
 submerged by them, as of one who by His Grace can 
 enable His followers to do the same. Think of Him as 
 calm, serene, firm, majestic amidst the most furious 
 agitations and turbulences of nature, and as One who 
 can endue thy heart with a similar stedfastness. 
 Think of Him as interceding for His Church on the 
 Mount of Glory, as watching them while they toil in 
 rowing against the adverse influences which beset them 
 round about upon the sea of life, as descending on the 
 wings of love to their relief. Think of Him as stand- 
 ing close by thee in thy immediate neighbourhood, 
 with a hand outstretched for thy support as soon as 
 ever thou lookest towards Him. Remember that it is 
 not you who are to conquer ^ but He who is to conquer 
 in you ; and accordingly, " even as the eyes of servants 
 wait upon the hand of their masters, and as the eyes of 
 a maiden upon the hand of her mistress, even so let 
 
230 . Fight with Distrust in Self [paet 
 
 your eyes wait upon Him, until He have mercy upon 
 you." No man ever fell in this attitude of expectant 
 faith : he falls because he allows himself to look at the 
 temptation, to be fascinated by its attractiveness, or 
 terrified by its strength. One of the greatest Sermons 
 in our language is on the expulsive power of a new 
 affection, and the principle laid down in that Sermon 
 admits of apj^lication to the circumstances of which we 
 are speaking. There can be, of course, no temptation 
 without a certain correspondence of the inner man 
 with the immediate occasion of the trial. Now do you 
 desire to weaken this correspondence, to cut it off, and 
 make i^ cease 1 Fill the mind and heart with another 
 affection, and let it be the affection for Christ crucified. 
 Thus will the energies of tlie soul, which will not 
 suffice for two strong actions at the same time, be 
 drawn off into another quarter ; and besides, the great 
 Enemy, seeing that his assaults only provoke you to a 
 continuous exercise of Faith, will soon lay down his 
 arms ; and you shall know experimentally the truth of 
 those words, " Above all, taking the shield of faith, 
 wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery 
 darts of the wicked one." There can be no doubt 
 that this counsel of looking only upon Christ in the 
 hour of temptation will be most needed (if our con- 
 sciousness and mind be spared us to the end) in the 
 critical hour when flesh and heart are failing, and when 
 Satan for the last time is permitted to assault our 
 faith. We can well imagine that in that hour doubts 
 will be busily instilled of Christ's love and power, 
 suggestions of our own unfaithfulness to Him in 
 'times past, and questions as to whether He will now 
 receive us. The soul will then possibly be scared by 
 terrors, as the disciples in the boat were scared with 
 
III.] and Trust in Christ. 231 
 
 the thoughts of a phantom, and will tremble in appre 
 hension of being thrust out from the frail bark of the 
 body into the darkness, uncertainty, insecurity of the 
 new and untried element. If such should be the 
 experience of any one who reads these pages, let him 
 take with him this one counsel of safety, to look only 
 to Christ, and to perish, if he perishes, at His feet ; 
 let us refuse to look in any other quarter, let us 
 steadily turn away our eyes from the doubts, the 
 painful recollections, the alarming anticipations which 
 the enemy is instilling. We are not proposing to 
 be saved on the ground of any righteousness in our- 
 selves, or in any other way than by free Grace, as 
 undone sinners ; then let those words be the motto 
 of the tempest-tossed soul, " My soul hangeth upon 
 thee ; thy right hand hath upholden me ;" ay, and 
 let it be the motto noiu, in hours when lesser trials 
 assault us. Let us make proof even now of the 
 invincibility of the shield of faith, that we may bring 
 it forth in that hour with greater confidence in its 
 power to shield us. And the hand of an Infinite 
 Love shall uphold us in the last, as it has done in 
 previous ordeals, and the prayer shall be answered, 
 which we have offered so often over the grave of de- 
 parted friends : 
 
 " Thou knowest. Lord, the secrets of our hearts ; 
 shut not Thy merciful ears to our prayer ; but spare 
 us, Lord most holy, O God most mighty, O holy and 
 merciful Saviour, Thou most worthy Judge eternal, 
 suflTer us not, at our last hour, for any pains of death, 
 to fall from Thee." " My flesh and my heart fliileth ; 
 but God is the strength of my heart, and my portion 
 for ever." " thou of little faith, wherefore didst 
 thou doubt % " 
 
232 Fight watchfully. [pakt 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 FIGHT WATCHFULLY 
 
 " Keep thy heart with all diligence : for out of it are the issites 
 of life:'— Proy. iv. 23. 
 
 Our translators of the Bible, in their attempt to 
 maintain idiom, have sometimes sacrificed vigour. 
 " Keep thy heart with all diligence " is a feeble 
 expression in comparison of that which you find in the 
 margin : " Keep thy heart above all keeping." — 
 " Above all keeping." If you would keep the apple 
 of the eye from injury, not only as a most sensitive 
 part of the frame and one most liable to derangenient, 
 but as the organ of the highest of all the senses, a 
 sense for the loss of which not thousands of gold and 
 silver could compensate ; much more keep thy heart, 
 so delicate a thing as it is, so susceptible of complete 
 disorganization from the mere dust of an evil thought, 
 so precious too, as being that organ of the moral 
 nature, by which you discern and apprehend Divine 
 truth. If you would keep in a casket, under lock and 
 key, a jewel fit for a monarch's diadem, on the purchase 
 of which a nation's wealth has been expended ; much 
 more keep thy heart, for whose allegiance such an 
 infinite price was paid, whose sympathies and affections 
 the Son of God bled, and agonized, and died to win, 
 and which is destined to be a jewel in His Redemption- 
 crown. If you would keep as a most sacred deposit 
 the last token of a dying parent's love; much more 
 keep thy heart. Which Christ, the Everlasting Father, 
 
III.] Fight watchfully. 233 
 
 having purchased it with His own Blood, bequeathed 
 to thee for thy custody. If thou wouldst keep some 
 outlying fortress, which is the key of a beleaguered 
 position, placing sentinels at every approach, and 
 bidding them challenge every one who passes in and 
 out ; much more keep thy heart, which is the key of 
 the character and conduct, and between which and the 
 outer world a busy correspondence is continually being 
 kept up. Finally, — for our precept is so worded that 
 it might be a medical, as well as a mOral one, — if thou 
 wouldst keep thy bodily heart, as the centre of the 
 system of the body, as the source of motion and 
 animation to the whole frame, as the golden bowl 
 which sends forth the living jets of the blood to the 
 extremities, whence with freshening, recreating force 
 they fall again into the basin ; — if thou wouldst shield 
 this part in war, covering it with the breastplate, or 
 with hauberk's twisted mail ; much more keep thy 
 moral or spiritual heart, which is the source of moral 
 life and whence the impulses, affections, sympathies, 
 desires, go forth towards the objects or persons around 
 thee, and return again with new life into thy bosom. 
 Ay, if there be a thing in this world, which should be 
 kept, — w^hich should be the object of unsleeping, 
 anxious guardianship, it is this heart ; — " Keep thy 
 heart above all keeping ; for out of it are the issues of 
 life." 
 
 We are now upon the subject of the resistance 
 which the Christian, in his daily life, has to offer to 
 Temptation. We have seen in previous Chapters 
 that he must • meet Temptation wisely, cheerfully, 
 self-distrustfully, and with trust in Christ. And wo 
 now come to a counsel no less necessary in order to 
 
234 Fight watchfully. [paki 
 
 ensure success, namely, that he must meet it watch- 
 fully. " Watch and pray," says our Blessed Lord 
 Himself, " that ye enter not into temptation." 
 
 • It must be evident, even to Reason, that wit-hout 
 this precaution of watchfulness over the heart, every 
 other counsel for resisting temptation must be of no 
 avail. This will be seen in a moment from one of 
 the illustrations which has been already employed. 
 The heart is the key of the entire spiritual position. 
 Carry the heart, and you carry the man. Not however 
 that the dangers of the heart are merely external, like 
 the dangers of a fortress. The world and the Devil 
 would not be such formidable foes, if they had nothing 
 to correspond with from within ; but our Saviour 
 teaches us that there are many traitors in the camp, 
 with whom they can and do correspond. " From with- 
 in, out of the heart of men, proceed evil thoughts, adul- 
 teries, fornications, murders, thefts, covetousness, wick- 
 edness, deceit, lasciviousness, an evil eye, blasphemy, 
 pride, foolishness : all these evil things come from 
 within, and defile the man." 
 
 It is also to be noticed, in forming' an estimate 
 of our danger, that the exports and imports of the 
 heart are exceedingly numerous. What a fertility 
 of thought, sentiment, impression, feeling, is there 
 in the heart of a single man ! It is like an inn or 
 hostelry ; — there are every instant fresh arrivals and 
 fresh departures. There are a thousand doors of access 
 to the heart, — conversation, books, incidents, means of 
 grace, all the five senses ; and passengers are busily 
 thronging in and passing out at every door. Some 
 of these passengers are bent on doing mischief, on 
 soiling the chambers, and throwing them into disorder ; 
 some on doing good, and setting things to right : 
 
in.] Fight ivatchfulhj. 235 
 
 some are quesjtionable ; some, though much fewer 
 than is generally supposed, indifferent. Now will any 
 precaution, short of watchfulness over the persons 
 allowed to enter, avail to keep such a house in order 1 
 No ! we . must require testimonials that those who 
 claim admittance are respectable. The sentinels must 
 be at their posts in the fortress, and demand the 
 password from all who cross their beat ; or the gen- 
 eral will lay his schemes in vain, and the garrison 
 will be well victualled in vain, and the poor soldiers 
 will fight and bleed in vain. Bravery, and wisdom, 
 and good supplies, will all be of no avail, unless active 
 steps are taken, to see that traitors are not prowling 
 about the camp, ready to fire the fortress, to open 
 the gates, or to suggest treacherous counsel. As a 
 matter of course, to dismiss the figure, unless we 
 keep a guard and narrow outlook upon our hearts, 
 we may find at any moment that we have " entered 
 into temptation," that is, have entertained it with 
 the will, that we are fairly launched on the slippery 
 incline which leads, it may be, to a very grievous fall. 
 What various and rapid movements take place in 
 our minds in the midst of a warm and animated 
 conversation ! Can there be any security for us unless 
 we watch and question them as they arise ? This 
 moment our vanity is piqued ; at another a desire 
 to say something smart at the expense of charity, or 
 something witty at the expense of reverence, or some- 
 thing entertaining at the expense of truth, or some- 
 thing coarse at the expense of purity, runs away with 
 us, and we are far on our road towards sin, — if indeed 
 we have not already arrived there, — before we can 
 pick up the rein and check the steed. Then we are 
 provoked not to be fair in argument, but factious ; 
 
236 Fight watchfully. [part 
 
 then, perhaps, to worldly compliance with the opinion 
 of the great, the popular, the many ; then, on the 
 other hand, we are prompted to speak the truth 
 ungraciously, without courtesy or consideration for 
 others, apologizing to ourselves and our friends for it, 
 by saying that " we cannot be hypocrites," that " we 
 always say what we think." How shall we keep our 
 foot free of so many snares % 
 
 But is solitude less dangerous, in our spiritual war- 
 fare, than company ? It might be so, doubtless, if the 
 world were the only source of temptations, if they did 
 not arise equally from self and from the Devil. But it 
 is clear that, from the two latter foes, who beset .the 
 Christian no less than the former, we cannot be safe 
 any more in solitude than in company. Self is with us, 
 and the Devil may be with us too, in the closet, as well 
 as in the social gathering. Castle-building, with all its 
 odious train of self-flatteries and self-complacencies ; the 
 fretting over any little wound which our vanity may 
 have received, until it begins to fester and look serious ; 
 the mental aggravation of a slight or insult, by allow- 
 ing the thoughts to dwell on it, until it fills the field of 
 view in a manner perfectly absurd ; the discomposure 
 about worldly cares, which is alvrays increased by soli- 
 tary pondering of them ; and last, not least, the vain 
 conceit that because prayer has been offered quietly, 
 and temper has been dormant, and the tongue closed, 
 that therefore a great victory has been won over the 
 inner man, or, in other words, that sin has been over- 
 come, because it has been latent : all these, together 
 with many coarser and baser thoughts which I need 
 not mention, are the temptations of solitude ; and the 
 moment we pass out of the sight and hearing of men, 
 we enter into this new circle of snares. 
 
III.] Fight watchfully. 237 
 
 The remedy, and, under God's Grace, the only 
 remedy, whether in solitude or company, is to " watch," 
 — to " guard," as far as in us lies, " the first springs of 
 thought and will." Let us pray and strive for the habit 
 of challenging our sentiments, and making them give 
 up their passport ; eyeing them wistfully when tViey ap- 
 ply for admittance, and seeking to unmask those which 
 have a questionable appearance. We shall find it useful 
 to have one or two periods of the day for distinct re- 
 collection of the secrets of the inner man, when the 
 question, after seeking light of the Lord, will be, 
 " What have been the derangements of the heart, and 
 what has been the cause of them ? " Whatever they 
 may have been, we must not for a moment be discour- 
 aged by them, but simply saying to the Lord, that such 
 falls were to be expected from us, and that they would 
 have been much worse, had not His Grace upheld us, 
 we must ask Him once more to do that which belongs 
 to Him, forgive our sins, and raise us up again, and 
 give us grace no more to offend His Divine Majesty. 
 After which we must begin our course anew, as if we 
 had never fallen, with this anthem in our mouths, "All 
 my fresh springs shall be in Thee." The oftener we 
 can manage to make these retirements into our own 
 hearts, and these renewals of our good intentions, the 
 more spiritually prosperous will our course be. For 
 be it remembered that it is by a constant series of new 
 starts that the spiritual life is carried on within us. 
 The waste of animal life is repaired, not once for all, 
 but continually, by food and sleep ; an(f the spiritual 
 life, a far more delicate thing, must perforce waste and 
 decay under the exposure to many adverse influences, 
 to which it is subjected in the world. It too requires 
 therefore continually to repair its forces. It is not 
 
238 Fight watchfully. [part 
 
 hereby meant that the true Christian is constantly fall- 
 ing into grievous or outward sin. We are speaking of 
 the spiritual, not of the carnal man. And by every 
 spiritual man an attempt is made to bring the region 
 of the heart, — the motives, desires, affections, — under 
 the sceptre of Christ. And he who makes this at- 
 tempt sincerely, soon finds that where there has been 
 nothing faulty in the conduct, the fine glass of the 
 conscience has either taken a tarnish from the vapours 
 of our natural corruption, or that the blacks of the 
 world have settled down upon it. The only counsel 
 under such circumstances is, " Rub it bright again with 
 the Blood and Spirit of Christ, and proceed with san- 
 guine energy." 
 
 It will be found that all the more grievous falls of 
 the tempted soul come from this, — that the keeping of the 
 heart has been neglected, that the evil has not been nip- 
 ped in the bud. We have allowed matters to advance 
 to a question of conduct, — " Shall I say this, or not say 
 it f " " Do this, or not do it ? " Whereas the stand 
 should have been made higher up, and the ground dis- 
 puted in the inner man. As if the mere restraint upon 
 outward conduct, without the homage of the heart to 
 God's Law, could avail us aught, or be any thing else 
 than an offensive hypocrisy in the eyes of the Heart- 
 searcher ! As if Balaam's refraining from the maledic- 
 tion of the lips, while his heart was going after his cov- 
 etousness, could be acceptable to the Almighty ! 
 Balaam, being an inspired and divinely-commissioned 
 man, dared not disobey ; for he knew too well what 
 would be the result of such an abuse of his supernatural 
 gifts. But we, if, like Balaam, we have allowed to evil 
 a free range over our hearts, are sure to disobey when it 
 comes to a question of conduct^ not being restrained by 
 
III.] Fight ivatchfulhj. 239 
 
 the fear of miraculous punishment, which alone held 
 him back. There is therefore no safety for us except 
 in making our stand at the avenues of the will, and re- 
 jecting at once every questionable impulse. And this, 
 it is obvious, cannot be done without watchfulness and 
 self-recollection, — without a continual bearing m mind 
 where, and what we are, and that we have a treasure in 
 our keeping, of which our foes seek to rob us. Endeav- 
 our to make your heart a little sanctuary, in which you 
 may continually realize the Presence of God, and from 
 which unhallowed thoughts, and even vain thoughts, 
 must carefully be excluded. 
 
 But can our own endeavours, essential though they 
 be to success, bring about of themselves this most de- 
 sirable consummation ? Our Saviour teaches us better. 
 " Watch," says He, " lest ye enter into temptation ; " 
 biu ends not the precious counsel here. He gives to 
 His Word on this occasion, that many-sidedness of* 
 truth, for which all His words are so remarkably dis- 
 tinguished, and which so contrasts with the one-sided- 
 ness of mere human teaching : " Watch and pray ^ that 
 ye enter not into temptation." The sentinel must be 
 at his post, no doubt, and must be wakeful at his post 
 if the city is to be kept ; but, nevertheless, " except the 
 Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain." 
 Man must give his exertion, no doubt ; but he must 
 never lean upon it ; for that would be leaning upon the 
 staflf of a bruised reed. Now Prayer is, or ought to 
 be, the expression of human dependence upon God, — 
 the throwing ourselves upon His protecting Wisdom, 
 and Power, and Love. And therefore, when Our Sav- 
 iour counsels us to unite prayer with watching. He 
 counsels us to throw ourselves upon God, under a sense 
 of our own weakness and total insufficiency. And sure- 
 
240 Fight watchfully. [paet 
 
 ly there is enough in what has been said respectin g the 
 difficulty of keeping the heart, to engender such a sense 
 of weakness. This throng of thoughts which is contin- 
 ually passing in and out, how shall we dream of exam- 
 ining, trying, judging them all except by a special Di- 
 vine interference in our behalf? Divine Power can 
 qualify a man for any thing ; but nothing short of Di- 
 vine Power can qualify him for a task 'so onerous as this. 
 To God, then,- let us commit the keeping of our souls, 
 in the most absolute self-distrust. And if this self-dis- 
 trust is any thing short of absolute, we may expect 
 that constant falls will attend our best endeavours, 
 whose effect, if God bless them, shall be to beat us 
 thoroughly out of this fault. It is a great attainment 
 to be able honestly to say to the Lord, really and deep- 
 ly meaning what we say : " Lord, I am quite unable 
 to keep my heart myself, and have proved myself so 
 by many humbling falls, in which my adversary has 
 made me bite the dust ; but Thou art able to keep me 
 from falling, and to present me faultless before the pre- 
 sence of Thy Glory with exceeding joy ; and to Thee 
 therefore I commit the keeping of my soul, simply 
 watching, as Thou hast bidden me, and leaving all the 
 rest to Thee." 
 
 He who can say this shall have Christ dwelling in 
 his heart by faith ; and this indwelling shall be a sure 
 preservative against evil thoughts ; and in that heart, 
 though agitated on the surface, there shall be a peace 
 which it has never known before. 
 
 In the inn of Bethlehem there were many going to 
 and fro, and much hurry and disquietude, while car- 
 avans were unlading or making up their complement 
 of passengers, and the divan presented a spectacle of 
 many costumes, and resounded with wrangling, and 
 
ni.] The high Prerogative of Suffering. 241 
 
 barter, and merriment. But in a stable hard by there 
 was a tender joy too deep for words, and a stilhiess of 
 adoration which seemed to shut out the outer world ; 
 for Mary had brought forth her Firstborn Son and laid 
 Him in the manger, and her heart and that of Joseph 
 were full to overflowing, and angels were gazing down 
 from above on the mystery of the Holy Incarnation. 
 
 The soul of man is a noisy hostelry, full of turmoil 
 and disquietude, and giving entertainment to every 
 vain and passing thought which seeks admittance there. 
 But when Christ comes, and takes up His abode in the 
 heart. He reduces it to order and peace ; and though 
 it may move amid the excitements and confusions of 
 life, yet hath it an inner stillness which they cannot 
 disturb or destroy ; for the King of Peace is there, and 
 Peace is the purchase of His Cross, and the last legacy 
 of His Love and His ancient promise to His people ; 
 for so it is written, — " He hath made peace through the 
 Blood of His Cross ; " " Peace I leave with you ; my 
 peace I give unto you ; " — " Thou wilt keep him in 
 perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on Thee, because 
 he trustcth in Thee." 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE HIGH PEEEOGATIVE OF SUFFEEING. 
 
 " Verily^ verily, I say unto tliee, When thou wast young ^ thou 
 girdcdst thyself, and ivalkedst whither thou wouldest : hit when 
 thou shalt he old, thou shalt stretch forth thy hands, and another 
 shall gird thee, and carry thee tvhither thou looiddest not. This 
 spake he, signifying by what death he should glorify God. And 
 when he had spoken this, he saith unto him. Follow nic.l'' — John 
 xxi. 18, 19. 
 
 In these words our Lord predicts the death of St. Peter. 
 In his old age the Apostle was to be crucified, made to 
 11 
 
242 The high Prerogative of Suffering, [part 
 
 stretch forth his liands upon the transverse beam of 
 the cross, and girded (or lashed round the waist) to the 
 instrument of torture by a cord. Tradition says that 
 he was crucified, at his own request, with his head 
 downwards ; in that case, the girding, or tying tightly, 
 to the cross would probably be necessary, by way of 
 keeping the body of the sufferer in its right position. 
 In the ordinary mode" of crucifixion, to which Our 
 Blessed Lord was subjected, the body rested, not, as is 
 often erroneously supposed, upon the hands and feet, 
 but upon a seat projecting from the middle of the cross ; 
 but when the cross was inverted, the body would have 
 no such rest, and it would then become necessary to fix 
 it in another manner by a tight ligament. This is in 
 all probability the reference of the words, " another 
 shall gird thee," though perhaps some will prefer to see 
 in them nothiug more than an allusion to the binding 
 of the Apostle previously to his being led away to 
 execution. 
 
 But putting aside their original and literal meaning, 
 the words lend themselves very well to a secondary 
 application. They may be regarded as a striking 
 parable of human life in its two great periods of youth 
 and old age. Youth is full of enterprise, energy, hope, 
 vigour ; prompt in forming schemes, and active in car- 
 rying them into execution ; when emancipated from 
 the restraints of boyhood, it exults in its independence, 
 and feels that it is the master of its own destiny : 
 " When thou wast young, thou girdedst thyself, and 
 walkedst whither thou wouldest." But old age is the 
 season i^f helplessness and dependence; — "another" is 
 called in to perform the most necessary offices, and to 
 supply our lack of service towards our own failing 
 frames ; the very old have to be led, fed, apparelled by 
 
ai.] The high Prerogative of Suffering. 243 
 
 others, and the end is, that they are carried whither 
 (according to the flesh) man ca^mot but shrink from 
 going, and laid, in all the weakness and dishonour of 
 death, in the plot of consecrated earth which lies around 
 the church. " But when thou shalt be old, thou shalt 
 stretch forth thy hands, and another shall gird thee, and 
 carry thee whither thou wouldest not." 
 
 We are now considering the Christian life in its 
 practical, as distinct from its devotional aspect ; the 
 phases of that aspect of it are, as we have seen, three : 
 — acting, fighting, suffering. We have given some 
 counsels on the Christian's work, and on the Christian's 
 temptations, and our plan now requires that we should 
 say something of those occasions, on which his great 
 duty is to lie passive in the hands of God. 
 
 1. We remark, first, that sufl^ering in all its forms is, 
 and should he looked upon as being, a vocation. There 
 are many, and these real Christians, persons interested 
 in God's Service, who regard suffering in a shallow, 
 superficial point of view, as an interference with their 
 vocations, and consequently miss all the golden oppor- 
 tunities of growth in grace and knowledge which it holds 
 out. Their plan of life is put out of joint, and, as it 
 appears, their usefulness impeded, by some accident or 
 some grievous sickness ; their activity is at an end, or 
 at an end for a time, — quietness is imposed upon them 
 as a condition of life, or of recovery ; they chafe and 
 fret at a restraint, because, as they themselves put it, 
 they are precluded from actively doing good. Now 
 what does this fretting indicate 1 What but this, that 
 they love not the Will of God, but merely the satis- 
 faction which accrues in the natural order of things 
 from the consciousness of doing good to others ? and to 
 eling to this satisfaction is only a higher form of self* 
 
244 The high Prerogative of Suffering. [part 
 
 love, — not the love of God. The truth is that God, in 
 sending them the sickness or the accident, has been 
 pleased in His Wisdom and Love to change their 
 vocation, and, if minded to be really loyal to His Will, 
 they must accommodate and familiarize themselves to 
 the idea, not that their occupation is gone, but simply 
 that it is altered. As an illustration, let us imagine 
 the conduct of a campaign by the commander-in-chief 
 of the forces of an empire. No one but he himself is 
 in full possession of his plans : he has laid his schemes 
 with deep foresight, and with the most correct cal- 
 culation of contingencies, but communicates the whole 
 of them to no subordinate. Advices from home, and 
 from the generals of detachments are arriving all day 
 long at head-quarters, and despatches are as continually 
 going out ; but no one knows any more of the contents 
 than concerns his own position and duties. Many 
 lookers on, who cannot see the whole game, misjudge 
 the commander. There is an outcry that he risked 
 unfairly, in an enterprise almost desperate, the lives of 
 a small party : but the real truth is, as men would see 
 if they could but know the whole, that this risk was 
 absolutely essential to the safety of the entire force, and 
 that by the exposure of a score of men to fearful odds 
 the lives of twenty thousand have been secured. Let 
 us now suppose that suddenly some officer is com- 
 manded to hold himself and his troop in readiness to 
 undertake some important manoeuvre, — to go up into 
 a breach, or to storm a fortress, or to meet and cut off 
 an enemy's supplies : suppose that this enterprise 
 exactly suits both the capacities and inclination of the 
 man on whom it is devolved ; that there is room in it 
 for the display of powers which he is conscious of pos- 
 sessing ; that it gives him just the opportunity which 
 
III.] The high Prerogative of Suffering. 245 
 
 he coveted, of achieving distinction. He is making his 
 preparations with all sanguineness, and anticipating the 
 final order to depart, when, lo ! the order arrives, but it 
 peremptorily alters his destination ; he is not to be of 
 the storming party, he is to go into a secluded dingle 
 with his men, far out of the way of the operations, and 
 there lie still, and send out scouts to make observations 
 of the country, and report. It is a hard trial to one who 
 was girding himself for active service, and longing for 
 an opportunity for displaying prowess and forethought ; 
 and it is difficult to bear, just in proportion as there is 
 room to doubt the wisdom of the commander's general 
 arrangements, and his considerateness for the individual 
 officer whose destination he thus arbitrarily changes. 
 But supposing these to be beyond all question : sup- 
 posing that hitherto the most consummate skill had 
 been shown in every arrangement of the campaign, and 
 that on many previous occasions the general had shown 
 the very kindest, and even the most affectionate regard 
 to the interests of this particular officer ? Would it 
 then be found impossible, or even difficult, to reconcile 
 the mind to such a disposition of things ? Surely not, 
 when once cool reflection had succeeded to the sting of 
 the disappointment. And when our Heavenly Father 
 changes our whole plan of life by His providential 
 despatches, and virtually sends us the order, " Lie still ; 
 and let another gird and carry thee instead of thy 
 girding thyself, and walking on Mine errands * whither 
 thou wouldest ; ' " shall we venture even to remonstrate, 
 when we are assured by the testimony of His Word 
 that both His Wisdom and His care for us are un- 
 bounded ? and when our own experience of life, brief as 
 it has been, re-echoes this testimony ? Ah ! to love God 
 
246 The high Prerogative of Suffering, [part 
 
 is to embrace His Will when it runs counter to our 
 inclinations, as well as when it jumps with them. 
 
 What has been said applies quite as much to those 
 thousand trifling occasions of every-day life on which 
 our little plans a^e disconcerted, as to the serious 
 interference which sickness makes in larger schemes. 
 We are too much wedded to our plans, whether they 
 be plans for a life, or plans for a day or an hour ; — 
 too little loyal at heart to the Will of God. And 
 hence arises great uneasiness and discomposure of 
 mind, which, from whatever source it arises, cannot 
 fail to be prejudicial, and a hindrance to the spiritual 
 life. We have set apart, it may be, such an hour 
 of the day for the purpose of devotion or study. But 
 . just as we were about to spend it so, some call of 
 necessity or charity arises in another direction. In 
 either case, whether it be of necessity or charity, 
 it is God's call ; and not our duty only, but our 
 happiness, lies in responding to it cheerfully and 
 lovingly. We must be ready to go out of our way, 
 if God calls us out of our way, or, in other words, 
 to have our little plans so modified and corrected, 
 as to be brought into the scheme of His great 
 and all-wise plan. It is every way better to do what 
 God intends for us, than what we intend for ourselves. 
 Our Blessed Lord on a certain occasion was stedfastly 
 bent upon raising the dead ; but as He was passing to 
 the house where the deceased maid lay, an interruption 
 arose. A poor woman with an issue of blood crept 
 up behind Him, and, touching the hem of His garment, 
 stole from Him a cure. Willingly and graciously 
 does Our Lord stop upon His way, and take up the 
 episode into the marvellous poem of His Life He 
 
£11.] The high Prerogative of Suffering. 247 
 
 makes the poor woman discover herself, and draws 
 from her a public acknowledgment of her cure. And 
 not until He has dismissed her with a gracious word 
 of encouragement does He pass on to fulfil His original 
 intention. It is a great lesson as to the spirit which 
 we should cultivate, when it pleases God to disconcert 
 or interrupt our designs. 
 
 But to recur to the point. Regard suffering, even 
 in its slighter forms, as a vocation, having its special 
 duties, and offering its special grace. Say secretly of 
 it, — " Here for the present lies thy allotted task, O my 
 soul ; consider how much may be made of this period : 
 how largely it may be improved to God's Service and 
 thy salvation. It is the post to which thou art appoint- 
 ed: seek to occupy it faithfully and bravely; and more 
 good shall accrue to thee from it than from what thou 
 didst propose to thyself as the line of service of thine 
 own choosing." 
 
 But may we not say something more of suffering 
 than merely that it is a vocation *? May we not say 
 of it, that it is the highest of all vocations 1 We 
 might augur thus much from the fact, that under 
 ordinary circumstances, the close of the Christian 
 life rather than its beginning is characterized by 
 suffering. As a general rule, the sick bed is the 
 scene upon which the curtain falls. And we might 
 naturally expect that God would reserve to the last 
 that dispensation by which the character of His 
 children is to be most highly purified and exalted ; — 
 that He would call them to the sublimest and most 
 elevating of trials at the end of their career, when, 
 having been proved in lesser matters, they had been 
 found faithful. We find in our text an intimation 
 that this was the case with St. Peter. If any one 
 
248 The high Prerogatvoe of Suffering. [part 
 
 ever glorified God by active service, undertaken with 
 love and zeal, surely it was St. Peter and his great 
 colleague, the Apostle of the Gentiles. St. Peter was 
 the chief pillar of the early Church ; his energy and 
 his gift of government were the main props of her 
 administration, before St. Paul appeared. He was 
 God's prime agent in the spread of the Gospel among 
 the people of the circumcision. Yet not one word 
 is here said of the glorification of God, in connexion 
 with St. Peter's active days. The spread of Christ's 
 Kingdom through his preaching and his rule is passed 
 over in silence. The Evangelist speaks of his cruci- 
 fixion — when those limbs, once so full of vigour, so 
 prompt to move in the Master's Service, were fettered ; 
 and when his body was bound fast to the accursed tree, 
 as the period, when God reaped from the Apostle a great 
 harvest of glory ; — " this spake he, signifying hy what 
 death he should glorify God." 
 
 During the lifetime of God's people, the graces 
 with which He endows them are always a sweet 
 savour to Him, through the Intercession of Christ. 
 But in a holy death there is something specially 
 acceptable, over and above that which there is in a holy 
 life ; and therefore with a marked emphasis it is 
 written : " Right dear in the sight of the Lord is the 
 death of His saints." Now what is Death but the 
 crown and climax of human sufferings'? It is the 
 trial of trials, — the deepest shadow which in this life of 
 shadows falls athwart the soul. Can a man acquiesce 
 lovingly in this trial, — cling fast to God when this 
 most chill of all shadows falls across his heart, and 
 believe still that he shall be brought out into the 
 sunlight % Then this is a glorious test of the faith and 
 of the grace that is in him. God delights to see 
 
III.] The high Prerogative of Suffering, 249 
 
 grace in us at all times ; but He loves not to see it la 
 tent. He desire sit to be in exercise. And, in order to 
 bring it into exercise, He uses the instrumentality of 
 suffering. The leaves of the aromatic plant shed but a 
 fliint odour, as they wave in the air. The gold shines 
 scarcely at all, as it lies hid in the ore. The rugged 
 crust of the pebble conceals from the eye its interior 
 beauty. But let the aromatic leaf be crushed ; let the 
 ore be submitted to the furnace ; let the pebble be cut 
 and polished ; and the fragrance, the splendour, the fair 
 colours are then brought out :— 
 
 '' This leaf? This stone ? It is thy heart : 
 It must be crushed by pain and smart, 
 It must be cleansed by sorrow's art — 
 Ere it will yield a fragrance sweet, 
 Ere it will shine, a jewel meet 
 To lay before thy dear Lord's feet." 
 
 The same law is observable in spiritual character, 
 which rules the formation of natural. How often in 
 a smooth and easy life do men, who have something far 
 better beneath, appear selfish, effeminate, and trifling ! 
 Suddenly they are thrown into some position of high 
 trust, great responsibility, or serious danger; — are 
 called upon to face an enemy, or submit to the hard- 
 ships of the campaign ; — and lo ! the character shows 
 a stuff and a fibre, — ay, and a tenderness for others, — 
 which no one ever gave it credit for. Resolute 
 will, dauntless selfsacrifice, considerateness, show 
 themselves, where before we could see nothing but 
 what was pliant and self-indulgent. Trial has unmask- 
 ed latent graces of character; and although spiritual 
 character is a thing of a higher order than natural, 
 yet it is developed according to the same laws of the 
 mind. 
 
 11* 
 
250 The high Prerogative of Suffering. [paei 
 
 But the chief reason why suffering is the highest of 
 all vocations, is that in suffering so close a conformity 
 may be attained to Him, who is the highest exemplifi- 
 cation of human virtue. The heroes of Paganism ex- 
 emplified the heroism of enterprise. Patriotism, chiv- 
 alrous deeds of valour, high-souled aspirations after 
 glory, stern justice taking its course in their hands, while 
 natural feeling was held in abeyance, — this was the line 
 in which they shone. Our Blessed Lord illustrated all 
 virtues indeed, but most especially the passive ones. 
 His heroism took its colouring from endurance. Wo- 
 men, though inferior to men in enterprise, usually come 
 out better than men in suffering ; and it is always to 
 be remembered that Our Blessed Lord held His Hu- 
 manity, not of the stronger, but of the weaker sex. 
 The leading idea of Him is the patient sufferer, " the 
 lamb dumb before its shearers ; " — not till after His 
 ascension into Heaven is He represented to us as 
 " the Lion of the tribe of Judah." And it is for this 
 among other reasons, that, while the Evangelists notice 
 different parts of our Lord's History, — while two of 
 them are wholly silent respecting His Infancy and 
 Childhood, — and one almost silent respecting the 
 Ministry in Galilee ; — they all agree in portraying 
 His Death with great minuteness. Not only was this 
 Death the propitiation for the sins of the whole 
 world, and therefore the most important of all events 
 to us, but also, viewing Christ merely as an Example, 
 His Death expresses far more of His Divine Character 
 than His Life. What should we know of Christ com- 
 paratively — how very imperfectly should we conceive 
 of Him — if the narratives of the Cross were torn out 
 of the Book of the Gospels ? It was the Cross which 
 (to use an expression we should not dare to use, unless 
 
m.] The high Prerogative of Suffering, 251 
 
 an Apostle had led the way) perfected the human 
 character of Our Lord ; for God made the " Captain 
 of our Salvation perfect through sufferings," — not 
 perfect in the sense of sinless, for that He was from 
 His Infancy upwards, but perfect in the sense in 
 which no one can be perfect, who has not submitted 
 to the discipline of trial. The spotless block of white 
 marble may be perfect, in the sense of being with- 
 out a flaw; but it acquires a perfection of another 
 sort, when, after being shaped and chiselled, it is con- 
 verted into a beautiful vase, fit for the palace of a 
 monarch. The Lord, in virtue of His Humanity, had 
 a will which shrunk from a deprecated suffering, — 
 a will which we see in operation, when those words 
 flow from Him in the garden ; " Father, if it be pos- 
 sible, let this cup pass from Me." This will, however, 
 was gradually brought round into complete acquies- 
 cence with the higher will, — an acquiescence which ex- 
 presses itself in that second cry, as recorded by St. 
 Matthew : " Father, if this cup may not pass from 
 Me, except I drink it. Thy will be done." It was this ac- 
 quiescence which gave to the human character of Christ, 
 sinless all along, an exquisitely finished perfection, 
 and a certain beauty of maturity, which it had not 
 before. 
 
 It is to conformity with Him in this high acquies- 
 cence that He called His disciple, St. Peter, when He 
 said to him, " Follow Me." He had told him that he 
 should have scope to follow, in a suffering similar to 
 His own, (for St. Peter too should stretch forth his 
 hands upon the transverse beam of the cross,) and now 
 He tells him to copy His spirit in suffering, — " Follow 
 Me." 
 
 And does He not tell us the same also 1 If the 
 
252 The high Prerogative of Suffering^ [part 
 
 words " Follow Me " were addressed specifically to 
 St. Peter, are there not words of precisely similar im- 
 port addressed to all disciples to the end of time? 
 Do we not read, " If any man will come after Me, le*j 
 him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and fol- 
 low Me ? " 
 
 Ah ! there is the word ot which we are in search, to 
 express the agency of the sufferer in this matter, — 
 " tciTce up his cross." It might not be very clear what 
 the agency of a sufferer, pinned down perhaps to a bed 
 of pain, — upon whom, possibly, silence is imposed, — 
 could be. Such an one can do nothing in man's 
 estimation, who looketh only on the outward appear- 
 ance ; but in God's estimation, who looketh on the 
 heart, he can do much. He has a moral choice left 
 him, — a will. This will may affirm God's will, or 
 reject it. While no option is lefl us as to bearing the 
 cross, we may either talce it vp, or strive to push it off. 
 We may, on the one hand, harbour the thought that 
 we are hardly dealt with ; or, on the other, we may, by 
 enforcing upon ourselves such considerations as that 
 God is a tender Father, and never chastens but for our 
 profit ; that suffering is a medicine, remedial, though 
 bitter ; that we have deserved infinitely more than is 
 ever laid upon us ; and that there is no real satisfaction 
 for man except in conformity to the Divine Will, — 
 bring round the mind to say sincerely (the highest 
 point of perfection this, which human character can 
 reach) : 
 
 "0 Lord, my God, do Thou Thy holy Will ! 
 
 I will lie still : 
 I will not stir, lest I forsake Thine arm, 
 
 And break the charm, 
 Which lulls nie, clingiug to my Father's breast, 
 
 In perfect rest." 
 
III.] The high Prerogative of Suffering. 253 
 
 Are we striving to bring our minds to this point, 
 when, and as, God calls us to suffer ? Are we daily 
 practising resignation as opportunity offers % By a 
 patient and loving endurance of annoyances, are we 
 preparing ourselves gradually for the discipline of 
 trials 1 Christ comes to us morning by morning to 
 present to us, for the day then opening, divers little 
 crosses, thwartings of our own will, interferences with 
 our plans, disappointments of our little pleasures. Do 
 we kiss them, and take them up, and follow in His 
 rear, like Simon the Cyrenian ? Or do we toss them 
 from us scornfully because they are so little ; and 
 wait for some great affliction to approve our patience 
 and our resignation to His Will ? Ah, how might we 
 accommodate to the small matters of religion generally 
 those words of the Lord respecting the children, " Take 
 heed that ye despise not one of these little ones 1 " 
 Despise not little sins ; they have ruined many a soul. 
 Despise not little duties ; they have been to many a 
 saved man an excellent discipline of humility. Despise 
 not little temptations; rightly met they have often 
 nerved the character for some fiery trial. And despise 
 not little crosses; for w^hen taken up, and lovingly 
 accepted at the Lord's hand, they have made men meet 
 for a great crown, even the crown of righteousness and 
 life, which the Lord hath promised to them that love 
 Him. 
 
254 Of Recreation, [pari 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 OF EECPvEATION. 
 
 " Whether therefore ye eat^ or drink^ or whatsoever ye do, do all to 
 the glory of God.'' — 1 Cor. x. 31. 
 
 " St. John the Evangelist, as Cassian relates, amusing 
 " himself one clay with a tame parti'idge on his hand, 
 " was asked by an huntsman, How such a man as he 
 " could spend his time in so unprofitable a manner ? 
 " to whom St. John replied. Why dost thou not carry 
 *' thy bow always bent 1 Because, answered the hunts- 
 " man, if it were always bent, I fear it would lose its 
 " spring, and become useless. Be not surprised then, 
 " replied the Apostle, that I should sometimes remit a 
 "little of my close attention of spirit to enjoy a little 
 " recreation, that I may afterwards employ myself more 
 "fervently in Divine contemplation \" 
 
 Some persons might be disposed to think Recreation 
 too light a subject to be treated in a work on Personal 
 Religion. But let it be considered that in the broad 
 sense of the term (in which it embraces every species 
 of refreshment bodily and mental) Recreation must 
 form an integral part of human life. Human life, as a 
 matter of fact, is made up of graver and lighter 
 passages. There is no true portraiture of it which 
 does not present its relief and recreations alongside of 
 its burdensome pressure and cares. Man's mind is so 
 constituted, that even in the most afflictive circum- 
 stances it cannot be always on the strain; such a 
 strain would ultimately break the mind. So it seeks 
 
 S. Fran(;ois de Sales, Yie Devote. 
 
III.] Of Recreation. 255 
 
 and finds a safety-valve in the lighter pass»ages of life, 
 through which its natural elasticity (for it is wonder- 
 fully elastic) vents itself. But then, if this be the 
 constitution of the human mind, and therefore of 
 human 4ife, which is but the development and expres- 
 sion of the human mind, our reliefs, no less than our 
 burdens, must come within the scope of true religion. 
 For there is no truth more certain than this, that reli- 
 gion is designed to leaven our ivliole life ; that no dis- 
 trict of life, not a single waking hour, is to be excluded 
 from its sanctifying influences. If Recreation is a 
 constituent part of life. Recreation must be capable of 
 being sanctified. 
 
 We do not give Recreation too prominent a place 
 in the religious system, when we say that it is for the 
 mind what sleep is for the body of man. No man's 
 body could long endure the stress and burden of daily 
 life without sleep. And no man's mind could, as I 
 have said, long endure any mental pressure without 
 Recreation. It is wonderful what the body gains in 
 sleep, far more than we are apt to suspect ; what 
 gentle healing influences are ministered to the animal 
 functions of this dull and heavy frame by that " soft 
 nurse of nature," as our great poet so beautifully calls 
 it. It is often said of infants and young children, that 
 they grow much faster in an hour of sleep than in 
 several waking hours, — the truth being, I suppose, 
 that sleep is an imbibing of energy, and waking ex- 
 istence a waste or expenditure of it. And surely it 
 is no less wonderful how much the mind, I do not say 
 does, but may gain in Recreation, — how rapid a 
 growth in Grace it may achieve when the harness of a 
 regular puirsuit is for a while lifted from oflf* its neck, 
 and leisure is given to it to unbend itself at will. 
 
256 Of Recreation. [paet 
 
 That Recreation is frequently and cruelly abused, and 
 leisure allowed to degenerate into licence, is no argu- 
 ment whatever against its possible utility. Sleep itself 
 is not beneficial, but mischievous, if it be not well 
 regulated. A man may easily have too much^of it, — 
 more than is good for him ; and the excess is not 
 indifferent, — it is absolutely prejudicial. Recreation, 
 like sleep, must be carefully regulated with a view to 
 the great end which it is designed to subserve. There 
 must be some amount of forethought as to the conduct 
 of it, and of restriction upon its freaks and licences, if 
 it is to be attended with wholesome effects. Perhaps 
 there are some of my readers who altogether resent the 
 idea of such restriction ; who wish altogether to exempt 
 Recreation from the interference of religious principle ; 
 who look to the little intervals and interstices of work 
 as so much time which may be freely wasted, trifled 
 away, frittered away, sinned away without compunc- 
 tion, flung recklessly into the great gulf of unredeemed 
 possibilities. 
 
 In censuring thoughts of this kind which may arise 
 upon the subject, it is necessary to disentangle what is 
 true and just in them from what is radically false and 
 vicious. 
 
 It is absolutely certain, then, that there is no single 
 waking moment of our life which we can afford to lose. 
 Never Wxas truer line written by any poet than that of 
 Young. 
 
 " the man 
 
 Is yet unborn who duly weighs an hour," 
 
 Probably there is no such thing as an indifferent 
 moment, — a moment in which our characters are not 
 being secretly shaped by the bias of the will, either for 
 
III.] Of Recreation, 2-57 
 
 good or evil. It is a great mystery, tut so it is, thai 
 our Eternity is suspended upon the manner in which we 
 pass through a very short span of time. And, analo- 
 gously, this very short span of time takes its complexion 
 from the- moments which go to make it up. If life it- 
 self be of such tremendous import, its constituent hours 
 and mmutes cannot be insignificant. All minutes must 
 be made available ; not indeed available in one particu- 
 lar form, not available in the way of work, but all 
 available in the Service of God, to which both work and 
 diversion may contribute. 
 
 But it is possible that what is meant by resisting 
 the interference of religious principle with Recreation, 
 may be merely this, that Recreation will cease to be 
 Recreation, if too much seriousness of thought be thrown 
 4nto it. And there is some amount of truth here, which 
 we shall presently notice. Unbending no doubt must 
 be unbending, if it is to answer its object. 
 
 Let us first say something of the principle by which 
 alone any Recreation can be sanctified, and then offer 
 some advice on the forms which Recreation may take. 
 
 First, then, Recreation, like work, is to be engaged 
 in with a view to God's glory : we are not to separate 
 it even in idea from Him, but to bring it within the 
 great scope of His service. This principle is distinctly 
 enunciated in the words of the Apostle, — " Whether 
 therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all 
 to the glory of God." Eating and drinking, the taking 
 of nourishment, is a species of Recreation, when that 
 word is understood in its widest sense. To take nour- 
 ishment is to refresh the body, even as to take Recrea- 
 tion is to refresh the mind. If then the taking of 
 nourishment may be made conducive to God's Glory, 
 and brought within the scope of His Service, so also, 
 
258 Of Recreation, [part 
 
 without doubt, may the taking of Recreation. Let it 
 be well settled in the mind then, as the first step, that 
 our periods of relaxation may have a religious signifi- 
 cance and a religious value j may be a means of reli- 
 gious improvement and of progress in the spiritual life, 
 whose law is progress ; and this apprehension is of it- 
 self a point gained, although it be only an apprehension 
 of the understanding, and not as yet the choice of the 
 will. 
 
 The great point, however, is that choice of the will, 
 or intention of the heart ; — that we should be able to 
 say mentally and cordially these words, or their equiva- 
 lent : — " I have chosen the Service of Almighty God, 
 in whatever position He pleases to place me, as the one 
 object of my life. To this great object I have determined 
 to devote all my faculties of body and soul. But then 
 neither body nor soul can be sound or healthy without 
 innocent Recreation. Innocent Recreation, therefore, 
 I will have, — I take it as a matter of deliberate choice, 
 not merely because it gratifies me, but chiefly because 
 it is subservient to my end." This is the only 
 principle which can sanctify any action, be it grave or 
 trivial. 
 
 As to the different forms of Recreation, the follow- 
 ing suggestions may be offered. 
 
 * 1. First, of course, care must be taken that there 
 may be nothing in them contrary to the Will and Word 
 of God, — nothing which His Law condemns. Their 
 being useful (in the ordinary sense of usefulness) is not 
 here the question. It would be absurd to require of 
 every kind of Recreation that it shall do some definite 
 good to the minds and bodies of others. It is quite 
 sufficiently useful, if it refreshes our own minds and 
 bodies, and renders them more efficient instruments of 
 
ul| Of Recreation. 259 
 
 the Divine Service. All besides this that can be re- 
 quired is, that it shall be innocent, — a form of diversion 
 on which Holy Scripture lays no ban. 
 
 2. But secondly, it does not follow that because it 
 is abstractedly innocent, and because, therefore, we may 
 not presume to judge others for resorting to it, it is 
 therefore allowable for ourselves. There are many 
 amusements, which to the pure are pure, but which 
 with persons whose imaginations have been fouled by 
 evil, and evil which, it may be, they have not yet 
 thoroughly outgrown, would stimulate bad passions, or 
 at least throw serious temptations in their way. Let 
 no man or woman for the sake of a paltry amusement 
 venture within arm's length of a temptation. To do so 
 were to turn into a mockery the daily petition which 
 Our Lord puts into our lips, — " Lead us not into tempta- 
 tion." By the slightest experience of the spiritual life, 
 we gain some amount of knowledge of our moral tem- 
 perament, just as by the experience of physical life we 
 gain a knowledge of the kinds of food wholesome and 
 unwholesome for us. Then this knowledge of our own 
 moral temperament must be called into exercise, and 
 acted upon, in judging what amusements are for our- 
 selves permissible. In the spiritual life, as in the phys- 
 ical, the unwholesome must be avoided. Each Chris- 
 tian must be fully persuaded in his own mind of the 
 innocence of those forms of Recreation in which he in- 
 dulges, not only to the world at large, but to himself 
 in particular. If the circumstantials of any amuse- 
 ment are such as effectually to preclude secret Prayer, 
 the realization of God's Presence and the thought of 
 Our Lord's Passion, to us such amusement is forbidden, 
 though Scripture may be silent upon it. Yet it is quite 
 possible that our neighbour, whose mind is possessed 
 
200 Of Recreation. [part 
 
 of more recollectedness and self-control than ours, raay 
 partake of it innocently. It is very necessary to re- 
 member this, because religious persons are very apt to 
 judge and set at nought their brethren for not being 
 equally strict with themselves in regard to amusements. 
 If God's Word has not spoken on the subject, this is 
 nothing more or less than sacrificing love to a Pharisaic 
 feeling of self-gratulation that " we are not as other 
 men are." 
 
 It may seem a truism to say, and yet it certainly 
 needs to be said, that the more amusing amusements 
 are the better. Busy lives have not time for many ; 
 let such as are taken, then, be thoroughly refreshing. 
 Yet what a perfect burden are many forms of so-called 
 amusement ! or how do we turn them into a burden by 
 thoughtlessness, and negligence, and the evil habit of 
 letting amusement shift for itself, as if it were a thing 
 not worth caring for in a religious point of view ! The 
 ordinary Recreation of ordinary persons very much 
 resolves itself into conversation with friends or casual 
 acquaintance ; and there can be no doubt that by taking 
 a little pains with it, directing it in interesting channels, 
 and by unselfish efforts to make it vivacious, conversa- 
 tion may be made to brighten the mind very con- 
 siderably, and to relieve the pressure of the burdens of 
 life. " Iron sharpeneth iron ; so a man sharpeneth the 
 countenance of his friend." Yet how miserably stale, 
 flat, and unprofitable?, how utterly devoid of the salt of 
 wit and wisdom are the conversations which often fill 
 up the interstices of our time ! The two minds brought 
 together for half an hour are like two circles, which 
 just touch in one point, and then fly ofl' each in its own 
 orbit ; there is no manner of intersection, sympathy, or 
 fellowship ; and the result is that what should be a 
 
ni.] Of Recreation. 261 
 
 relief becomes instantly a drudgery. What can be 
 done under such circumstances, \A^here the persons across 
 whom we are thrown are hopelessly dull, irresponsive, 
 formal, or, it may be, vain, impertinent, or otherwise 
 actively offensive ? Matters perhaps may be somewhat 
 mended by good humour ; and if not, this must be 
 taken as one of the petty trials of every-day life, which, 
 like serious trials, gives scope for the exercise of Christ- 
 like patience and sweetness, and so for the elevation of 
 our oTvn spiritual character. That may seem to be a 
 mind wholly inaccessible to our view of things ; but it 
 is well to remember that every human mind has some- 
 where within it a source of sympathy, if we did but 
 know where to look for it, and an' interest, if we could 
 but find the clue to it. Possibly, as often happens in 
 our intercourse with foreigners, it may be our oiun 
 peculiarities which chill, and offend, and drive inward 
 those whom we meet with. At all events an attempt 
 to copy the mind of Christ and fulfil the Scriptural 
 precept, " Be patient towards all men," cannot fail of 
 drawing down a blessing upon our own spirit — a far 
 greater relief than that which could be found in the 
 liveliest conversation. 
 
 But to return to our immediate topic. How often 
 is foreign travel, one of the best and most intelli- 
 gent forms of Recreation, turned from a pleasure into a 
 burden by the silly scrambling way in which it is 
 embarked upon ! No forethought is exercised on the 
 subject; there is no attempt at unity of method ; and 
 both mind and bod^ are exhausted instead of refreshed, 
 by flying about all day long from cathedrals to cateracts, 
 from museums to mountains, and from picture galleries 
 to pinnacles of temples. Such Recreation to a great 
 extent defeats its own end. Variety is, no doubt, one 
 
262 Of Recreationji [part 
 
 secret of mental relief; but then even in the variety- 
 there should be a sort of method and unity of plan, lest 
 it degenerate into mere distraction. And* all distrac- 
 tion, that of pleasure as well as of business, is a burden 
 to the mind. 
 
 Lastly, although no doubt any thing like severe 
 application of the mind would interfere with the end of 
 Recreation, it is very much to be wished that a good 
 education embraced some superficial and elementary 
 knowledge of those lighter subjects of study, which, as 
 they turn upon Nature, can be taken up and pursued 
 wherever Nature is found. It is easy to speak con- 
 temptuously of superficial knowledge, and if such 
 knowledge flatters the owner into a conceit of his own 
 wisdom, it is contemptible ; but a very slight intelli- 
 gence on natural subjects — flowers, shells, trees, the 
 habits of birds, the habits of animals, the habits of 
 insects, — may be at once a great relief to the mind and 
 a rational interest. One of the saddest conditions of a 
 human creature is to read God's Word with a veil upon 
 the heart, to pass blindfolded through all the wondrous 
 testimonies of Redeeming Love and Grace which the 
 Holy Scriptures contain. And it is sad, also, if not 
 actually censurable, to pass blindfolded through the 
 works of God, to live in a world of flowers, and stars, 
 and sunsets, and a thousand glorious objects of Nature, 
 and never to have a passing interest awakened by any 
 one of them. It is a precept of the Divine Master's, 
 occurring in the Sermon on the Mount, and therefore 
 obligatory upon all His disciples, that we should " con- 
 sider the lilies of the field." If Christians qualified 
 themselves more for an interest in Nature by that 
 which is essential to such interest, a slight knowledge 
 of Nature, there would be among them much more 
 
III.] Of Recreation, 263 
 
 purity, and therefore much more brightness and 
 joyousness of mind. For Nature is God's pure work, 
 unsullied by sin ; and therefore the study of it is a 
 pure delight to those who love him. 
 
 Two obvious counsels may be given in conclusion. 
 
 a. All excess in recreations must be avoided. They 
 are not, and must not be, regarded as the earnest 
 business of life. The sign of the Cross, — the mark of 
 self-denial and self-renunciation, — should be made upon 
 each and all of them. Indeed this is as essential to the 
 enjoying them as it is to their sanctification. An 
 amusement indulged too far soon cloys. It has not the 
 spring in it which earnest work has. 
 
 h< Secondly ; our longer periods of leisure should 
 always be made to pay to God the tax of additional 
 devotion. It is a heavenly thrift, and a great gain in 
 the way of refreshment of mind*, to make an hour of 
 leisure an hour of communion with Our Lord. 'We 
 should see to it that, as our alms are proportioned to 
 our superfluous substance, so our prayers should be 
 proportioned to our superfluous time. 
 
 Finally ; let none think lightly of the subject we 
 have treated in this Chapter. We have been really 
 dealing with the question how the human mind may be 
 preserved in health, vigour, and efficiency. What 
 careful, discriminating, delicate treatment does this 
 mind require at our hand, seeing that God puts upon it 
 such overwhelming honour ! Does he not propose to 
 make it the Temple of His Holy Spirit, a house for 
 His special indwelling, a spiritual sanctuary fragrant 
 with the incense of Prayer % If the constitution which 
 He has given it is never thoughtfully studied, if from 
 neglect or thoughtlessness we violate the laws which 
 He has impressed upon it, may we not seriously injure 
 
264 Of Recreation. [part 
 
 that which is destined to be an instrument of His 
 Service and Glory? Lord, make us to hallow Thy 
 House of Prayer. Make us jealous of the purity, 
 vigour, energy of our own minds. And oh ! let recre- 
 ation, as well as business, be so ordered, as to further 
 instead of interrupting our communion with Thee. 
 Teach us to turn it into fine gold of the altar by the 
 purity of our intention in taking it, and to offer it 
 unto Thee, (for so only can any work of ours be ac- 
 ceptable,) in the union of Thy Son's Merits and 
 Passion. 
 
PART lY. 
 SUPPLEMENTAL 
 
 12 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 ON THE WISDOM AND COMFOET OF LOOKING NO FUR- 
 THER THAN THE PRESENT DAY IN OUR SERVICE OF 
 GOD. 
 
 " He that is faithful in that which is least is faithful also in much.'''* 
 — Luke xvi. 10. 
 
 The principle laid down in these words admits of many 
 applications. One of them Avill form the subject of the 
 present Chapter. 
 
 We had occasion to remark recently that all growth 
 proceeds from one nucleus, — forms round one centre. 
 It is so in Nature, it is so in Grace, and it is so in study 
 and the pursuit of knowledge. The first thing to be 
 done by a person bent upon studying any^arge subject 
 of human knowledge, such as History, or Jurisprudence, 
 or Philosophy, or Divinity, is to limit the field of his 
 researches, and draw a circle round it. In History, for 
 example, the attacking universal History in all its parts 
 would make us miserable sciolists ; we should take any 
 well-defined period, to which we happen to be particu- 
 larly drawn, and make all our studies gather round that 
 pQriod as their centre. Thence our researches may 
 extend themselves into adjacent periods systematically 
 and on principle ; and the knowledge so acquired shall 
 be sound, not discursive. 
 
 Now in so far as the practical life of Christianity 
 is, or ought to be, the study of all of us, it is subject to 
 
268 On the Wisdom, c&c, of looking no further [paet 
 
 the same laws as other studies. Here, too, he who 
 would make a solid progress will do well in a certain 
 sense to limit the field. In a certain sense, of course, 
 it admits of no limitation. The Service of God must 
 be co-extensive with our whole life, and reach oter our 
 whole compass of duties, without a single exception. 
 Still, in trying to fill this vast area, we shall do well to 
 begin from a centre, and work outward. In Devotion 
 and in Duty address yourself first to what is manage- 
 able, and distract not the mind, whose quietness is es- 
 sential to progress, with too many calls at once. Col- 
 lect all your energies in one quarter of the field, — 
 whether it be the conflict with the besetting sin, or the 
 realization of the Presence of God, or of any other re- 
 ligious truth which has taken a strong hold upon the 
 mind ; and try to occupy that corner effectively. Be 
 faithful in that which is least ; and gradually the area 
 of God's Service shall for thee extend itself, and thou 
 shalt be faithful also in much. 
 
 Now it shall be the object of the present Chapter to 
 show how thi« principle is capable of application to our 
 Time. 
 
 God has divided for us our Time into periods. Our 
 life has by His appointment, something like the hands 
 of a clock, or the stroke of a bell, to mark its progress. 
 I am not speaking of artificial divisions of Time, like 
 the hour or the week. The hour is an arbitrary divi- 
 sion of man's making. The day might be divided into 
 three hours, or four, or nine, as easily as into twelve. 
 The week, or rather the seven-day week, is indeed of 
 Divine appointment ; but it too, like the hour, is arbi- 
 trary and artificial, — and has nothing in Nature cor- 
 responding to it. The Romans had eight-day weeks, 
 and other nations may have divided their month after 
 
IV.] than the Present Day in our Service of God. 269 
 
 other fashions, into sets of six days, or four days, or 
 three. But I am speaking now of the natural divisions 
 of Time, marked by the movements of the heavenly 
 bodies, — by the circuit of the earth round the sun, the 
 moon round the earth, and by the earth's revolution on 
 its own axis. The year, the month, and the day are 
 God's divisions of Time, and they are divisions inher- 
 ent in the constitution of the world, — divisions having 
 an outward visible sign on the face of Nature to mark 
 them. 
 
 Now of these periods, — the day, the month, the year, 
 which enter into the composition of every man's life- 
 time, — the day is the least. The day is the least in 
 point of duration ; but it may be also said with truth of 
 the day that it is the rudiment of the whole. The day 
 is a life in little, a miniature life. Let a convex mirror 
 be suspended overhead in a room, so as to form a small 
 angle with the wall ; you will see all the whole room 
 in it, wide as it may be, with all the details of the fur- 
 niture, and all the company. And how is this ? Every 
 object is, of course, greatly reduced in size, so that 
 every square yard of space in the room appears as a 
 square inch of space, or less, on the mirror. Still there 
 is nothing which finds its place in the room, which does 
 not also find a proportionate place on the mirror. So 
 it is with the day and the lifetime. The day is the 
 convex mirror of the life. Do you desire a summary 
 estimate of a man's whole character, as it will appear 
 upon a calm review after he is laid in his cofiin? 
 Study him for a day only, from his rising to his lying 
 down ; and it is enough : the germs of the life are in 
 the day ; and that microscopic view, aided by a little 
 effort of imagination, puts you in possession of the 
 whole truth respecting him. Is it not written, " He 
 
270 On the Wisdom, c£t., of looking no further [part 
 
 that is faitliful in that which is least is faithful also in 
 much : and he that is unjust in the least is unjust also 
 in much?" 
 
 But before I enter more in detail into the miniature 
 character of the day, and the help which we may derive 
 from the due consideration of this character, I will point 
 to those passages of Holy Scripture, which imply that, 
 in God's design, the day is the rudiment of the whole 
 life, — a little life in itself. 
 
 First, then, the Christian's store of provisions for his 
 journey is meted out to him day by day ; which implies 
 that in God's estimate a day is a complete cycle, a little 
 life in itself. On what principle does our Lord teach 
 us to pray, " Give us day by day our daily bread ? " 
 Why are we implicitly directed to come again another 
 morning, and yet another and another, for our supplies ? 
 Why not pray compendiously and once for all. Give me 
 bread, Lord, during the term of my life? Why, but 
 because another day is not so much another stage in the 
 pilgrimage, as actually' another pilgrimage, in itself 
 complete, without any consideration of what went before, 
 or what is to follow after ? I know not whether I may 
 live to see another day. If therefore bread for a whole 
 lifetime were to be given me to-day, it might be super- 
 fluous, it might be more than was needed. And to pray 
 for more than we need, would be inconsistent with the 
 sobriety which should characterize prayer. 
 
 ■ Again ; — as the Christian's provisions are meted out 
 by the day, so his thoughts are to have the same limit, 
 — his anxieties (blessed be God !) are to be bounded by 
 the horizon of nightfall. Sweet and solemn are those 
 words, — I know not whether more sweet, or more 
 solemn, — "Take no thought for the morrow, for the 
 morrow shall take thought for the things of itself ; suf- 
 
rv.] than the Present Day in our Service of God. 271 
 
 ficient unto the day is the evil thereof." Observe that, 
 our Lord does not tell us to take no thought for this 
 day ; rather perhaps He implies that we should do so. 
 Certainly it "would be well to do so in matters spiritual. 
 It would be well if, in the freshness of the morning 
 hour, we were to arrange our engagements, as far as 
 possible, with a little forethought and discretion, and 
 make up the plan of our day till bed-time. " Such a 
 quarter of an hour in the course of to-day may be gained 
 for the highest of all purposes ; — I must work hard 
 beforehand to gain it. I shall have to encounter such 
 and such a temptation, — I must be on the watch for it. 
 This hour I shall be alone, — I must guard my thoughts ; 
 the next I shall be in company, — I must guard my 
 tongue. A little contrivance and arrangement here and 
 there may redeem time, — I must see whether the ar- 
 rangement cannot be made." All this is consideration 
 beforehand, — is thoughtfulness ; but it is not the 
 thoughtfulness which the Lord forbids, — for it lies 
 within the horizon of to-day. What He does forbid,, 
 and what unhappily it is very hard to check in oneself,' 
 is the previous contemplation and adjustment of dif 
 Acuities, which stretch into that unknown to-morrow, 
 which belong not to the cycle of the present day. We 
 are always for flying off mentally to contingencies, 
 things which are to happen by and by, and may never 
 happen ; Christ is always for recalling us to that which 
 lies under our hands. 
 
 Again. Our purposes are to be limited by the same 
 horizon, which determines our duties, our provisions, 
 and our anxieties ; or rather, if we listen to the literal 
 wording of Scripture, by an horizon still more limited. 
 *' Go to now, ye that say, To-day or io-morroio we will 
 go into such a city, and continue there a year, and buy, 
 
272 On the Wisdom, dc, of looking no further [paet ' 
 
 and sell, and get gain : whereas ye know not what shall 
 be on the morrow. For what is your life ? It is even 
 a vapour, which appeareth for a little time, and then 
 vanisheth away. For that ye ought to say. If the Lord 
 will, we shall live, and do this or that." A precept 
 than which scarc^y any may be more cheaply fulfilled 
 in the letter, while it is perhaps the most arduous of all 
 God's precepts to fulfil in spirit and in truth. Surely it 
 is not to be fulfilled by the mere use of the words, 
 " please God," or of the letters D. V., when we speak 
 of our future projects ; but by a deep inner consciousness 
 that the future is wrapped in utter uncertainty, — that 
 we can see no further than to what lies under our hand, 
 — and that even the cycle of the present day embraces 
 more time than we have any right to calculate upon. 
 There may be trials awaiting me in the vista of the \ 
 future, trials threatening to come to-morrow, or the day ; 
 after to-morrow, or a week hence, or a month hence, — 
 I have simply nothing to do with them at present. 
 God requires my services day by day, and will gra-l 
 ciously recompense me day by day, if I am true to ; 
 Him, and lead me on day by day, and give me the' 
 support of a day in its day, and the grace of a day in itsj 
 day. And surely a day is not a long time to endure, — ' 
 there are not so many hours between rising up and 
 lying down, but that I could manage, if I really prayed ■ 
 and really strove, to be watchful, and pure, and self-; 
 denying, and zealous in my work, and punctual in my 
 devotions. Come now, does not it look very practicable ; 
 really a thing that may be done, and done by the hum- 
 blest 1 Then why should we not begin to-morrow ? 
 Why should we not spend to-morrow better than we 
 have ever spent a day in our life 1 Why should we 
 not lay our plans for doing so this evening ? 
 
IV.] than the Present Day in our Service of God. 273 
 
 Thus it has been shown from Holy Scripture that 
 the day is the divinely-con-stituted element of the life 
 of man, — the element for which he is furnished, and 
 beyond which he need look no further. In short, a day 
 is, as I said before, a miniature life. And now let us 
 draw out this position in detail. 
 
 First ; The morning hour is a miniature of youth. 
 We know how much depends on the shape and com 
 plexion, which the human character takes in youth, — 
 how comparatively exceptional a case it is that a godless 
 and irreligious youth is succeeded by piety in mature 
 age, — how all-important it is that the influences of 
 Divine Grace should be fused into the character when 
 it is plastic, and before it has crystallized. Nor can 
 the importance of the morning hour be overrated. 
 That the period immediately after rising should be 
 scrupulously consecrated to God, — that the earliest 
 thoughts of the day should be filled with God, — that 
 the" homage of self-dedication should be renewed before 
 starting on another pilgrimage, — that we should listen 
 to His small voice of warning and encouragements as it 
 issues from the pages of His written Word, — all this is 
 so essentially bound up with the peace and holiness of 
 the day, that one might almost say the two are inse- 
 parable. The tone of sentiment and feeling maintained 
 throughout the day is sure to take its colom'ing from 
 that morning hour. 
 
 Secondly. Youth passes away, and the earnest work 
 of life begins ; the profession or trade is entered upon. 
 And, in like manner, the morning prime comes to a 
 close ; the worship of God is completed, and the service 
 of God, — that is, work, the work of our calling, — 
 begins. Do it with all tliy might, O man, for it is the 
 business which thy Father hath given thee to do. Do 
 12* 
 
274 On the Wisdom, Sc, of looking no further [pakt 
 
 it with all thy might ; for thou must work the work 
 of Him that sent thee while it is day ; the night 
 Cometh when no man can work. Thou art to be in thy 
 work a /xt/xT^rr/s ©eoi), — copyist, imitator of God. Now 
 whatever God does, He does perfectly. If it be but 
 the creation of a leaf or a flower, it is done in such a 
 manner as that the most minute and microscopic ex- 
 amination only serves to bring out fresh beauties. 
 Strive to do thy work in such a manner. Let it be 
 thy earnest effort, that he who looks into it shall find 
 no flaw. Let the thing not only be done, but be done 
 gracefully and ornamentally, as far as may be. It is a 
 great and precious thought that God may be pleased 
 by service done with the whole soul, and with strict 
 punctuality and conscientiousness. 
 
 Thirdly. The age of man passes on, and real trials 
 have to be grappled with, when life is mounting now 
 to its noontide. Narrow circumstances, sickness, be- 
 reavement, — the "manifold snares of the great world, 
 the lures of ambition, or sensuality, or covetousness, — 
 beset the man on all sides. These great trials of faith 
 and patience find themselves represented in miniature 
 in the little crosses, ruggednesses, unpleasant collisions 
 of one day's walk. Temptations in the heat of con- 
 versation to overstate things, or to use acrimonious 
 language, or to throw out (for the sake of amusement) 
 words bordering on the profime, — temptations to lose 
 one's temper, — to indulge appetite in eating, — to resign 
 oneself to calls of ease and sloth, or to harbour thoughts 
 of impurity ; — all this is the miniature crucible, iy 
 which day by day the faith and patience of God's 
 children are tried and approved. Often the noontide 
 sun waxes hot upon them. The bright promise of the 
 morning is overclouded. There are fightings without. 
 
IV.] than the Present Day in our Service of God. 275 
 
 and fears within, oppositions, vexations, annoyances, 
 anxieties, apprehensions. It is painful to thwart natural 
 inclinations, as a Christian must do several times in 
 each day : it is called in Scripture " crucifixion of the 
 flesh ;" and crucifixion cannot but be painful. But com- 
 fort thee, faithful soul 1 — the night is coming, when, 
 if thou wilt endure patiently at present, the fever-fit of 
 passion, or excitement, or anxiety shall have worn off*, 
 and the Saviour shall fold thee under His wing, and 
 thou shalt sit down under His shadow with great 
 delight. 
 
 " Be the day weary, or be the day long, 
 At length it ringeth to Evensong." 
 
 So sang the Fathers of the Reformation in a time of 
 sore distress, when the fires of persecution raged fiercely 
 around them, and God's Truth in their persons was 
 hated, hunted down, and trodden under foot. A sweet 
 strain, and which well may have nerved a Christian 
 man to dare and do all things. Fierce glows the 
 noontide sun of persecution ; but man's power has a 
 limit ; and suff*ering, however protracted, must have a 
 limit, and even martyrdom itself is but light affliction, 
 when set in the balance against " the rest that re- 
 maineth for the people of God." And as at the close 
 of the most wearisome day is heard the musical 
 tinkling bell, which calls Christians to Prayer, and the 
 Evensong is poured forth at the Saviour's feet, and He 
 bestows His vesper blessing " ere repose our spirits 
 seal," — so it shall be yet a little while, and then we 
 shall hear His voice calling us to His Bosom with a 
 ' Come, ye blessed," and shall answer in accents of 
 well-grounded hope and lofty praise, and shall share the 
 rest of tliose who sleep in Jesus. 
 
276 On the Wisdom, dc, of looking no further [paei 
 
 Well, the prospect of the evening hour of communion 
 with God may equally serve to nerve us to a manful 
 endurance. A holy calm will hover round that evening 
 hour, — light and music will then break out upon the 
 soul, if the testimony of conscience be such, that upon 
 the whole we can rejoice in it. Have I endured to-day 
 in the hour of temptation % have I worshipped God in 
 my closet 1 served Him in my work 1 obeyed Him in 
 my trials % If not altogether as might be wished, still 
 perhaps a shade better than yesterday, — at all events, 
 there is His boundless Love in Christ ; waiting to bless 
 me without money, and without price, and to blot out 
 all transgressions. So, saith the Lord of the Vineyard, 
 " call the labourer and give him his hire." Let his 
 hire be the peace which passeth understanding, which 
 the world can neither give nor take away. Let him be 
 sealed with the Saviour's Blessing, and sleep under His 
 wing. 
 
 Lastly. Death ; — It is an old tale, how Death is 
 miniatured in sleep. Both are a lying down shrouded 
 in a darkened chamber, where the stir of life is hushed, 
 and the light of life does not penetrate. And from 
 both there shall be an awakening ; — for " I believe in the 
 Resurrection of the Body." I believe. that, as the stir 
 in the house begins again with the dawn, — so, when 
 the present economy shall have run its course, those 
 dreary abodes which the cypress and the yew over- 
 shadow, shall be peopled with life, and resound with 
 Hallelujahs. 
 
 Such is the analogy between Human Life and the day, 
 which results from the fact that one is the rudiment of 
 the other. Now let us avail ourselves of this fact in the 
 conduct of our spiritual life. In place of that constant 
 
IV.] than the Present Day in our Service of God. 277 
 
 reaching forward into the future of Time which cha- 
 racterizes the natural man, let us devote ourselves to 
 doing in the faith and fear of God the duties which call 
 for immediate discharge, and to meeting in His strength 
 the temptations which to-day are- imminent. Let our 
 horizon of forethought and care in things spiritual, as 
 well as in things natural, be nightfall. To coin afresh 
 an old proverb, which is homely to vulgarity, — a- 
 coinage, by which it would gain much in moral value, 
 as well as in gracefulness,—^" Let us take care of the 
 days ; and the years will take care of themselves." 
 
 But, alas ! in the minds of many readers there rises 
 up the discouraging thought, so paralysing to effort, 
 that already numerous days have dropped away into the 
 gulf of unreclaimed possibilities, like the autumn leaves 
 of trees which grow on the brink of a deep and dark 
 ravine ; and that on each of them, even though they 
 have been spent in secular activities, and in eager run 
 ning to and fro in quest of worldly wealth or worldly 
 distinction, might be inscribed (like oracles upon the 
 Sibylline leaves) the motto which poor Hugh Grotius 
 deemed appropriate to his whole life : " I have wasted 
 my life in laboriously doing nothing at all." Nothing 
 have we done for God in those days, nothing in the 
 work of our salvation ; and all beside that man can do 
 is vanity. Be it so. But the Gospel, the Good News 
 from Heaven, is not without hope for us, nor without 
 that which is inseparable from hope, a new spring of 
 energy. Although in the system of the Natural Life 
 of man, Time past can never be recalled, there is such 
 a thing in the Economy of Grace as " redeeming the 
 time." "When our works are done with a full faith in 
 the pardoning, restoring Love of Christ, with an ardent 
 enthusiastic desire to please Him, and yield Him all the 
 
278 Oil Unity of Effort [paet 
 
 little miserable tribute that we can, — ^^when consciousness 
 of past falls and neglected opportunities redoubles our 
 energy, — when, like Peter, plunging into the water to 
 meet his Lord, we burn with desire to show Him that 
 we love Him more than those, who have not wounded 
 Him so deeply, — then in those days of vigorous Chris- 
 tian impulse we redeem the time, and God restores to us 
 the years which the locust of self-indulgence or irreli- 
 gious toil has eaten. 
 
 Lift up, then, the hands that hang down, and the 
 feeble knees ! God gives us more days still, — gives 
 therii surely that they may be redeemed, not that they 
 may follow their predecessors into the dark ravine of 
 unreclaimed opportunities. If He lightens our darkness 
 once again, a fresh dawn to-morrow will suffuse itself 
 over the face of Nature. My reader, why should it not 
 be a dawn of spiritual life, and hope, and energy in thy 
 breast, — a dawn which shall shine more and more unto 
 the perfect day, — the day of consummated holiness and 
 endless enjoyment 1 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 ON UNITY OF EFFOET IN TEE SERVICE OF GOD. 
 
 *' Tliou art careful and troubled about many tilings ; but one 
 thing is need/id.^'' — Luke x. 41, 42. 
 
 What a depth is there, combined with what a simpli- 
 city, in the words of Our Blessed Lord ! On a very 
 fair and bright day, we sometimes see the sea at the 
 distance of a few boat's-lengths from the shore 
 so perfectly clear, that we can literally count the 
 
IV.] in the Service of God, 279 
 
 pebbles at the bottom. If we were to throw ourselves 
 out of the boat, \^ 3 should find that we were strangely 
 deceived as to the depth of that water. Its crystal 
 clearness has made us think it much shallower than in 
 truth it is, and we should find ourselves, to our 
 surprise, far out of our depth in it. So it is with the 
 maxims of Holy Scripture in general ; but specially 
 with those gracious sayings, which fell from the lips of 
 the Incarnate Wisdom.- So simple that a child can 
 understand them, they are at the same time so profound, 
 that the intellect of the most highly gifted and higli- 
 ly cultivated philosopher cannot flithom them. The 
 principles asserted in them, while they are perfectly 
 plain and intelligible, admit of an infinite variety of 
 applications to the conduct of life ; applications which 
 the vspiritual mind is instructed by God to make for 
 itself. 
 
 One great secret of success in the Christian warfare - 
 is quietness of mind. Without interior peace, there is 
 no such thing as true Religion. The peace, which by ^ 
 simple faith in Christ the conscience obtains, is the first? 
 step in Sanctification. All Christian virtue is built \ 
 upon that foundation, — "Therefore being justified by | 
 faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus 
 Christ." And still through our whole course, Christ's 
 Blood of Atonement and His Life of perfect Righteous- 
 ness are the great fountains of peace which travel with 
 us, just as the stream, which flowed from the smitten 
 Rock, followed Israel in the pilgrimage. But, if we are 
 to have success in the pursuit of holiness and in meet- 
 ing our spiritual foes, there must be peaces not only in 
 the consciousness of our acceptance, but peace also in 
 eflfort and endeavour. The area of holiness is a very 
 wide area; and by attempting to fill it at once, we may 
 
280 On Unity of Effort [paet 
 
 overtax our resources, waste our strength, and throw 
 ourselves out of heart. 
 
 We will, therefore, in this Chapter offer some re- 
 marks on the principle of spiritual policy which we 
 should adopt, if we desire successfully to meet that dis- 
 couragement which results from distraction of mind. 
 The principle is thus given us by Our Blessed Lord, — 
 " One thing is needful." And this, among various other 
 applications of it, all equally wholesome and wise, we 
 interpret to mean, — " Let there be one idea at the foun- 
 dation of your spiritual character, round which that 
 character forms itself: let one single principle be the 
 foundation of all your obedience to God's command- 
 ments. You will never succeed, while you are paying 
 equal attention at one and the same time to every de- 
 partment of the Divine Law." A speculative difficulty 
 will perhaps be felt here, which it is well to encounter 
 at the outset. 
 
 Are we not bound, it may be asked, to strive after, 
 the fulfilment of all God's commandments'? Does not 
 the holy Psalmist say, " Then shall I not be ashamed, 
 when I have respect unto all Thy commandments % " 
 If therefore any one should advise us to fasten our atten- 
 tion principally upon one of these commandments, is 
 he not relaxing the stringency of the Divine Law, and 
 imposing upon us a single obligation, where God has 
 imposed upon us many ? This reasoning is very plau- 
 sible, but not really sound. 
 
 The heathen philosopher, Aristotle, speaking of mere 
 natural virtues, points out that they are so linked to- 
 gether, that if a man possessed one virtue in absolute 
 perfection, he must perforce possess the rest. And a 
 similar remark may be made respecting the graces of 
 the Christian character. They hang together more or 
 
rv.] in the Service of God. . 281 
 
 less, and one draws another in its train. We may see 
 an instance of this in St. Paul's inspired panegyric on 
 Charity. Read carefully through all the features of 
 Charity, \Yhich he portrays in that grand chapter, and 
 you will find yourself often crying out, " Why, this is 
 not charity at all, which he is describing, but some 
 other grace, to w^iich we give a distinct name." For 
 instance, " Charity is not puffed up." This seems rather 
 an attribute of Humility than of Charity. Again; 
 " Charity doth not behave itself unseemly ; " i. e. shows 
 taste and tact in finer points of conduct. This sounds 
 rather like Courtesy than like Charity. But yet the 
 inspired Apostle is not wandering from his point. 
 Love has the closest connexion with humility and cour- 
 tesy, so that perfect love can never exist without either. 
 Every breach of love in the world is due more or less 
 to pride. Whence come all wranglings, jars, and dis- 
 cords, but from a secret feeling that a certain precedence 
 and certain rights are our due, and a determination al- 
 ways to stand upon those rights, and never to waive 
 that precedence 1 Strike at the root of this feeling in 
 the heart, and you strike at the root of every quarrel ; 
 or, in other words, secure humility in any mind of man, 
 and you secure love, at least on its negative side. The 
 case is the same with courtesy. Perfect love would 
 involve perfect courtesy, that is to say, a nice sense of 
 propriety in our intercourse with others, and a delicacy 
 of feeling towards them. So fiir as any one is defective 
 in this perfect courtesy, he wants one of the finer fea- 
 tures of love. 
 
 Again •, it is the law of the natural characters of all 
 of us that one particular feature or class of features 
 stands out pfominently, and gives its complexion to 
 the whole character. We may be quite sure that our 
 
282 On Unity of Effort [part 
 
 spiritual characters will form themselves in the same 
 way. They will have a pervading colour, they will 
 manifest a particular leaning, whether we wish it or 
 not. Our minds are so constituted that each feature 
 of them cannot be equally developed. Nor indeed is it 
 consistent with God's design in regard to His Church 
 that it should be so. That design includes variety of 
 mind. As each stone has its place in an arch, and no 
 one stone will fit into the place of another, so the mind 
 of each Christian, with its various moral and in- 
 tellectual endowments, has its peculiar place and its ap- 
 propriate functions in the vast Temple of the Church 
 of Christ. 
 
 St. Peter, St. Paul, and St. John, were equally good 
 Christians ; but the mind of the first did not adapt it- 
 self easily to the evangelization of the Gentiles ; that 
 of the second was not contemplative ; that of the third 
 had no high gifts of administration and rule, though it 
 was endowed with a marvellous insight. It is the 
 Lord's design now, as it was then, that His different 
 servants should exhibit different graces of the Christian 
 character ; and we shall do well in framing our minds 
 to the holiness which He requires, to frame them with 
 reference to His design, and with the eye constantly 
 fixed upon it. 
 
 But again ; and this has a most important bearing 
 on the question at issue ; — all growth proceeds upon 
 the principle which we are recommending. Natural 
 growth means the gathering together of particles of 
 matter round a single nucleus, which nucleus appro- 
 priates and assimilates those particles. If we take a 
 Bmall fragment of the blossom of a flower, and examine 
 it with a powerful microscope, we shall see that it 
 consists of a series of colour-cells, ranged in perfect 
 
IV.] in the Service of God. 283 
 
 order, (like the cells in a honeycomb, or the stones in a 
 tessellated pavement,) which contain the pigment of 
 the flower. Originally there was but one single cell, 
 containing the vital principle of the whole flower ; but 
 as the germ was fed by the dews and rains of heaven, 
 and by the moisture of the earth, it gathered to itself 
 particles from the elements w^hich surrounded it, and 
 gradually formed a neighbour cell, and then another, 
 •and another, until the whole resulted at length in this 
 magnificent mosaic of cells, so far superior to any 
 pavement which King Solomon had in his palace, or 
 even in his temple. Well, spiritual growth proceeds 
 by the same rule as natural ; it is for the most part a 
 development out of one sentiment, an accretion round 
 the nucleus of one idea. It is our part to watch this 
 law of our minds, and to endeavour by prayer and 
 forethought, and wise eflbrt, to turn it to account. 
 
 Now, practically, how is this to be 1 
 
 1. There can be no doubt that the besetting sin 
 or fault, if any one is prominent, should be the first 
 quarter in which the Christian should turn his 
 thoughts, and prayers, and efforts. His particular 
 shortcoming is an indication by God in w^hat part of 
 the field his work lies. Having ascertained, then, his 
 besetting sin (and we gave directions for doing this in 
 a preceding Chapter), let him set himself as his main 
 business, dismissing other matters for the present, 
 however interesting to his curiosity, or attractive to his 
 tastes, to adopt a course of life wholly contrary to it in 
 thought, word, and deed. Let the main tenor of his 
 life be a continual prayer and struggle in God's 
 strength against this one sin. And he will find ere 
 long that other graces are forming in his mind, besides 
 that which he has set himself specially to cultivate. 
 
284 On mUy of Effort [paet 
 
 This perhaps may be the explanation of the pheno- 
 menon, which puzzles us in many Scripture characters, 
 — that they fail signally in the very grace which they 
 most especially illustrate. The truth may be, that 
 this was originally the very weak" point of their 
 character, — that Moses, for example, was by nature 
 impatient and irritable ; but that waging special war 
 against this sin, he became by grace the meekest of 
 men, though nature broke out again when he was tried 
 with unusual severity at Meribah. 
 
 At all events it is certain that " the one tiling 
 needful " for those beset with any moral and spiritual 
 infirmity, is to rid themselves of it, rooting it, as far as 
 possible, out of their hearts, with loathing and abhor- 
 rence. Until this is achieved, there is no business for 
 them of equal importance. 
 
 2. But supposing that, on a survey of our character, 
 it should not appear that any one fault or sin has a 
 greater prominence than another, (though this will 
 rarely be the case,) we may then set ourselves to 
 choose, according to our own inclinations, some broad 
 Scriptural principle which may be made the foundation 
 of our whole spiritual character. We may devote our 
 life, or at all events some period of it, to the cultiva- 
 tion and illustration of one particular grace. Let me 
 give one or two examples. " Hallowed be thy Name," 
 is the earliest petition of the Lord's Prayer. We 
 conclude that the hallowing of the Name of God is the 
 object which should lie nearest to the heart of a true 
 Christian. Now let us take this to ourselves as our 
 rule of life, — devote ourselves steadily, for a longer or 
 shorter period, to the fulfilment of this duty as the 
 *' one thing needful.' Let us set ourselves to hallow 
 God's Word by never introducing it lightly in conver- 
 
IV.] in the Service of God. 285 
 
 sation, or using it to point a jest however innocent, 
 and by always lifting up our heart for divine illumi- 
 nation while we read it, thus practically placing a 
 difference between it and other books. Let us set 
 ourselves to hallow the congregation of Christ's Church, 
 by never joining in Public Worship without calling 
 seriously to mind that He is in the midst of us. Let 
 us set ourselves to hallow God's Temple, which is our 
 body, by thinking much of the consecration which it 
 (no less than the soul) has received in Baptism, and 
 by carefully separating it, by means of abstinence, if 
 need be, from all approaches to impurity. And finally 
 let us set ourselves to counteract in our own minds the 
 mischief, incident to a controversial age, of discussing 
 religious subjects of the gravest moment with a certain 
 flippant fluency. The practice of interlarding conver- 
 sation with oaths is now happily almost extinct ; but 
 the levity and irreverence which gave rise to it may 
 show itself in other forms, and often does show itself 
 even among religious people. We may bandy the 
 Sacred Name about in a theological argument, and 
 discuss topics, into which angels fear to intrude, in 
 the rash and hasty way in which Uzzah handled the 
 ark, and with as little awe upon our spirits. Other 
 details in the application of the principle will suggest 
 themselves, into which I need not enter. 
 
 Or we might attempt to make poverty of spirit — 
 the subject of the first Beatitude — the leading thought 
 of our religious character. We might set ourselves 
 to cultivate this grace as the " one thing needful," by 
 meditating frequently on our misery and wretchedness, 
 on our shameful and numerous falls, on the repeated 
 failurj3 of our resolutions, on the subtle and powerful 
 enemies, by which we are surrounded, watched and 
 opposed, and on the far greater progress in grace which 
 
286 On Unity of Effort [part 
 
 others have made, with advantages much inferior to 
 our own. Also, by welcoming humiliations, and mor- 
 tifications of our vanity, whether great or small, and 
 blessing God for them, as bitter but wholesome medi 
 cines, suitable tq our malady. By frankly confessing 
 to our intimate friends, where it can be done discreetly 
 and without risk of harm to them, the more flagrant 
 evils of our life, with an entire willingness to lie as low 
 in their eyes as we do in God's. By constantly calling 
 to mind and acknowledging before God that as for the 
 gifts which we hold of Him, they are but gifts, and 
 entail responsibilities without giving any cause for 
 glorying ; and that the grace which is in us is grace, 
 that is, free favour shown to the undeserving, and 
 that our very correspondence to grace comes of this 
 free favour, and not of any good thing which dwelleth 
 in us. 
 
 Having chosen our principle, w^hatever it be, it will 
 be part of the business of every morning to anticipate 
 the occasions on which it maybe brought into exercise, 
 and to seek the help of Our Lord, that we may be 
 faithful when those occasions arise ; and it will be part 
 of the business of every evening to examine our con- 
 sciences in reference to this one needful thing, and 
 ascertain by a searching inquiry how the resolution has 
 been kept. 
 
 It will be well to say, in conclusion, one word of 
 advice as to the sort of principle which it is desirable to 
 choose for the purpose of building upon it a holy life. 
 Choose not, then, too narrow a principle, — by which I 
 mean one which gives no scope for exercise or trial, ex- 
 cept on rare occasions. Suppose, for example, that 
 submission to the will of God under the loss of friends 
 were chosen as the principle. There is not here room 
 enough for every-day practice. Bereavement, much as 
 
IV.] in the Service of God. 287 
 
 it behoves us to conduct ourselves well when it does 
 come, is of rare occurrence. 
 
 On the other hand, too broad a principle will destroy 
 the unity of aim and endeavour, which is recommended. 
 Too broad a principle is in fact more principles than 
 one, and so defeats the end. Eor which reason, if the 
 principle fixed upon be very broad, it will be wise to 
 narrow it a little in the earlier stages of the spiritual 
 life, that our attention may not be distracted and our 
 resolve enfeebled, by multiplicity of detail. Not of 
 course that we may excuse ourselves from the obliga- 
 tion of any part of God's Law ; but that unity of effort 
 in striving after its observance, the setting before us 
 one thing as for the time supremely needful, is the true 
 secret of keeping it at all. 
 
 Finally, choose a principle to w^hich your mind is 
 naturally drawn when in a right frame. We are all 
 attracted by different lines of thought in religion, and 
 no man has a right to impose upon his neighbour his 
 own line. If you read the Scriptures daily with prayer, 
 simplicity, and thoughtfulness, it cannot fail that some 
 of the thoughts which arise upon them will be made to 
 breathe and burn in your heart. So came home the 
 words of Jesus to the disciples on the road to Emmaus, 
 while He talked with them by the way, and while He 
 opened to them the Scriptures. Consider, when you 
 receive, these inspirations, w^hether they may not be 
 given for some special purpose ; whether they may not 
 take shape in some definite practical resolve. 
 
 We have pointed out one method of obviating those 
 distractions which are so baffling to Christian progress, 
 and we will end by a general counsel to cultivate quiet- 
 ness of mind in all other ways as well as in this. 
 Never shall we attain to holiness, so long as we are 
 
288 On Unity of Effort, [part 
 
 careful and troubled about many things. Cares and 
 anxieties, even of a spiritual character, must be thrown 
 upon God ; the mind must be absolutely unburdened of 
 them ; and we must leave our Father to provide for 
 them, when the need arises. If business presses, one 
 thing must be done at a time, well rather than rapidly, 
 and whatsoever affair is not immediately imminent, must 
 be left to settle itself as best it may. Scruples of con- 
 science, those great foes of progress, must be overcome 
 by taking a healthy and manly view of the duties of 
 religion, by fixing our minds upon its great essentials, 
 and sometimes by communicating the case to a discreet 
 and pious adviser. But sins, — actual and humbling 
 falls, — may not these legitimately distress and harass 
 the mind, and make the hands hang down, and palsy 
 the knees 1 No ; not if the true policy in such cases 
 is rightly understood. Take the fall as another im- 
 pressive lesson of the utter vanity of self-reliance, and 
 the uttter depravity of thy own nature. Go straight 
 to the Good Physician, whose doors are always open, 
 and ask Him to heal thy guilt with His Blood, thy fall- 
 en will with His Grace. Never did .petitioner apply 
 to Him for bodily healing who failed to obtain it. Is it 
 conceivable that He will be less gracious, when we come 
 to Him to sue for the supply of our spiritual wants ? 
 Who put it into our hearts to sue 1 Who draws us to 
 His footstool ? Who but Himself? And will He reject 
 the prayer of His own instigation % 
 
 " How shall our Divine Shepherd, who followed 
 after His lost sheep for three and thirty years with 
 loud and bitter cries through that painful and thorny 
 way, wherein He spilt His heart's blood and laid 
 down His life, — how shall He refuse to turn His 
 quickening glance upon the poor sheep which now follow 
 
IV.] Of the Way, dc. 289 
 
 Him with a desire, though sometimes faint and feeble, 
 to obey Him ? If He ceased not to search most 
 diligently for the blind and deaf sinner, the lost piece of 
 money of the Gospel, till He found Him ; can He aban 
 don one, who, like a lost sheep, cries and calls piteously 
 upon his Shepherd ? If the Lord knocks continually at 
 the heart of man, desiring to enter in and sup there, 
 and to communicate to it His gifts, who can believe that 
 when that heart opens and invites Him to enter, He will 
 turn a deaf ear to the invitation, and refuse to come 
 
 in ^ r ' 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 OF THE WAT IN" WniGII WE SHOULD SEEK TO 
 EDIFY OTHERS. 
 
 " Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your 
 good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.''^ — 
 Matt. v. 15. 
 
 Nothing is a more sure and regular indication of the 
 birth of true religion in the heart, than the presence 
 there of a desire to do good. Desire to d© good is " the 
 spot of God's children," — the spot which the inward 
 operation of His Grace throws out upon the surfiice of 
 the moral constitution. No devout man evBr lacked 
 altof^ether this uniform mark of a devout mind. For 
 did not Our Lord go about doing good ? And is He 
 not our great Exemplar? And must not Christian 
 men seek in some way or other to do good, if they 
 
 ' The Spiritual Combat, chap. iii. 
 13 
 
290 Of the Way in ivhich [part 
 
 would at all conform themselves to this Exemplar % 
 Such is the implicit reasoning of every mind, almost on 
 the first moment of its taking up earnestly with Per- 
 sonal Religion. And who shall find a flaw in it, or say 
 it is incorrect 1 
 
 Yet tills desire, from not being always directed in the 
 right channel, has led good men into mistakes, which 
 have not only laid waste their own spiritual life, and 
 corrupted the fountains of piety within them, but have 
 also rent the seamless vest of Christ, and introduced 
 schism into that Jerusalem, which was originally built 
 as a city that is at unity in itself. Instances of the 
 latter result are unhappily of frequent occurrence 
 among the middle and lower classes of this country. 
 A man hitherto licentious, or at all events utterly 
 thoughtless and godless, receives his first religious 
 impressions from some sermon which he has casually 
 heard, or some startling dispensation of God's Pro- 
 vidence. The religious instinct is newly created in him, 
 and operates (partly from its very strangeness to the 
 man's ordinary habits) with wonderful freshness and 
 vigour. Unhappily for him, neither he, nor any one 
 else who has influence with him, perceives that this 
 instinct needs guidance. It is a strong motive power, 
 like steam in the natural world, and like steam it may 
 produce an explosion and do mischief as well as convey 
 passengers along a road or across an ocean. Unguided, 
 and abandoned to its natural operation, it too often 
 does the former. The man feels, (and remember that 
 'it is part of the instinct of Grace within him that he 
 should feel,) "I must do good to my neighbours." 
 Then comes in the Mlacy, — the fundamental mistake, 
 — that this good can be done in no other way than by 
 preaching, or, in other words, by direct religious ad- 
 
IV.] we should seek to edify Others. 291 
 
 monition, designed and intended to edify. Our Lord 
 preached ; and before He ascended, He said, " Go ye 
 and preach : " accordingly the Apostles preached : St. 
 Paul preached ; and why, this new convert thinks, 
 should not he ? So preach he will ; and if his circum- 
 stances are such that he cannot preach in the church, 
 he will preach in a meeting-house, and become a little 
 focus at once of spiritual, or I should rather say 
 fanatical, excitements and parochial discontents. So he 
 gets together his knot of disciples, and the plain brick 
 building of studied ugliness is reared, and the good old 
 church, with its solemn and reverend services and un- 
 exciting doctrine, is forsaken by some who indeed never 
 yielded to it any rational or intelligent allegiance, and 
 the schismatic begins, as he conceives, to edify. Now 
 it is quite clear that this result is wrong ; as clear as 
 that the main motive which led to it is good. We are 
 driven, therefore, to infer that there has been some mis- 
 take as to the true method of edifying others, which has 
 vitiated the conclusion. 
 
 Let us examine in this Chapter the nature of the 
 duty of edification, and ask how it is to be fulfilled by 
 persons in general. 
 
 The fundamental passage, on which the duty of 
 Edification is built, is found in the fifth chapter of 
 St. Matthew, — " Let your light so shine before men, 
 that they may see your good works, and glorify your 
 Father which is in heaven." It should be remarked, in 
 reference to this text, that the Sermon on the Mount, 
 from which it is taken, is a perfect code of Christian 
 Duty ; so that nothing can claim to be a general duty, 
 binding on all disciples, but what can find and show you 
 its place in that Sermon. I say binding on all disciples ; 
 for to the disciples, not exclusively to the Apostles, was 
 
292 Of the Way in which [part 
 
 it spoken. And we may observe, in passing, that griev- 
 ous mistakes are occasionally made, by the indiscrimi- 
 nate application to all Christians, of what was said to the 
 Apostles of Christ in their Apostolic characters. Thus, 
 the words, " Go ye into all the world, and preach the 
 Gospel to every creature," are often ignorantly quoted, as 
 if they made the literal and direct evangelization of the 
 world the duty of every private Christian. Quite as 
 reasonably might it be maintained that all Christians 
 have the power of remitting and retaining sins, because 
 to the Eleven it was said, *' Whose soever sins ye 
 remit, they are remitted ; and whose soever sins ye 
 retain, they are retained." Those words were ad- 
 dressed to a particular body of men, raised up to per- 
 form a particular work, whose gifts, qualifying them for 
 this work, were peculiar, and died with them, never to 
 revive ; while their functions are, in all essential points, 
 continued in the great Office of the Christian Ministry. 
 The glorious Sermon on the Mount is of no such limited 
 scope, but embraces within the compass of its require- 
 ments the infant of days who was baptized yesterday, 
 quite as much as the hearers who sat on the windy hill- 
 side listening to it, and thrilled with the sweetness and 
 the solemnity of the Divine Discourse. Here, then, we 
 are to seek for, and hence we are to gather, that duty 
 of Edification which is incumbent upon all alike ; and 
 thus it runs, — " Let your light shine before men." 
 
 It will be seen, by referring to the context, what is 
 the precise force and significance of this precept. The 
 temptation of the primitive disciples, who lived in the 
 days when persecution was abroad, would be to wrap up 
 in their own bosoms their Christian Profession, so that it 
 should not transpire and involve them in trouble. Is it 
 not enough, they would think, to believe in Christ with 
 
IV.] we should seek to edify Others, 293 
 
 my heart, without the confession of the lips, without 
 apprising a scornful and malignant world of my con- 
 . victions ? In reply to all w^hich corrupt reasonings, Our 
 Lord tells them that it is unlawful for them in any way 
 to hide or obscure their profession. Freely allow it to 
 transpire, says He, — for such is his sentiment, clothed 
 in a modern dress, — ye are the light of the world, and 
 God has not kindled this light of grace in the midst 
 of a crooked and perverse generation, in order that it 
 should be covered up or hid. " Men do not light a 
 candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick, 
 and it giveth light unto all that are in the house. Let 
 your light so shine before men, that they may see 
 your good works, and glorify your Father which is in 
 heaven." Now what is there in the passage, thus un- 
 derstood, to prove that Christians generally are under 
 the obligation of giving direct religious admonition to 
 their neighbours 1 Edification by example, and not by 
 admonition, is what the Lord is speaking of; for He 
 says distinctly, " Let your light so shine before men, 
 that they may," — not hear your good words, — but " see 
 your good workSf and glorify your Father which is in 
 heaven." Nor does He prescribe Edification by 
 example for the sake of edification. He does not bid 
 us do anything, which otherwise we would not have 
 done, for the sole purpose of edifying another man. 
 He does not say, " Strive to fix attention on your good 
 works, and to make them arrest observation ; " He does 
 not say, "Wave the light about, and flourish it in the 
 air, and say to all the world. Take notice, brother, here 
 is a light ; " but what He says is simply, Aa/xi/^arw, Let 
 it shine. Every light will and must shine as a mat- 
 ter of course, and must enlighten all that arc in the 
 chamber, unless there is an intervening obstacle in tlie 
 
294 Of the Way in which [paet 
 
 way ; and what our Lord forbids, is the placing such 
 an obstacle in the way through moral cowardice and 
 fear of man's censure. Christian, come out and be 
 seen ! No slinking there into a dusky corner, in order 
 that your world-opposed ways may escape a sneer. Let 
 men see you evidently conducting yourself on super- 
 natural principles, living above the world, quietly and 
 unostentatiously serving God in your vocation. Be 
 much in Communion with God ; strive to adorn your 
 profession with every grace ; while at the same time 
 you do not shun the world's eye or make the smallest 
 compromise of principle. 
 
 You see that all this falls far short of, or rather is 
 an entirely different thing from, a general exhortation 
 to edify by admonition. Without denying that, under 
 certain circumstances, such admonition may be a part 
 of our duty towards our neighbour, it is certain that 
 (even under such circumstances) it is a delicate and 
 difficult task, and not without certain dangers for both 
 parties concerned. 
 
 It may be of use briefly to point out some of the 
 dangers. 
 
 First. The religious admonition of others, where we 
 have no definite call to the work, proceeds upon an 
 assumption of superiority in the person admonish- 
 ing, the acting upon which is likely to develope and 
 strengthen spiritual pride. Surely the assumption 
 that I am better than the man whom I propose to 
 admonish, might prove to be baseless, if I knew more. 
 We are wholly ignorant of another's inner life; we 
 can never look deeper than the outward appearance. 
 He may be dry, and cold, and hard (to all appearance), 
 and irresponsive to religious appeals ; and yet it is 
 possible that that irresponsiveness may come from 
 
IV.] we should seek to edify Others. 295 
 
 intensity of reverence, and from the fact that, while 
 mine is a shallow character, his is a deep one. And this 
 is certain, that I am conscious of far more evil in my- 
 self, than ever has transpired to my knowledge as exist 
 ing in him. Of course, the case is wholly different, if 
 I have a commission to instruct him, or if our relative 
 positions in society, as in the case of master and ser- 
 vant, teacher and scholar, make it my duty to do so. 
 The admonition then rests upon the commission, or upon 
 my position in Society, both which are quite indepen- 
 dent of my own religious attainments. But when I have 
 nothing but those religious attainments to rest it upon, 
 I should surely be rather chary of admonition than 
 otherwise, unless it is a very clear case that my religious 
 attainments are superior to his. 
 
 Secondly. Such admonition is almost always a fail- 
 ure. The feeling that he is to be lectured, and that too 
 by one who cannot found any claim upon his position, 
 generally sets a man's bristles up, and puts him at once 
 into an attitude of hostility to truth, which drives out 
 the little grace that there may be in him. No ; if we 
 wish (as every Christian must wish) to do good to 
 others, let us pave the way by little acts of help, kind- 
 ness, and self sacrifice shown to our neighbour when in 
 in a difficulty. Let' us live hard by him in such a man- 
 ner that the most careless observer cannot help observ- 
 ing that we are conducting ourselves upon Christian 
 principles. A time will come, perhaps, when he will 
 say of us, under distress and convictions, " 1 believe 
 that his religion is something more than talk ; for I have 
 seen his light shining before men ; and I shall go to him 
 and ask his advice." Then, acting on the same princi- 
 ple which we have hitherto observed towards him, we 
 may give him all the help we can in the way of advice, 
 
296 Of the Way in which [part 
 
 but still without parade, or pretence to more than we 
 really know or have felt, — without flashing the light in 
 his eyes. 
 
 Thirdly. The diffusion of spiritual feeling — its 
 being allowed to come abroad too freely (and it must 
 more or less come abroad in religious conversation) — is 
 any thing but healthy for this delicate plant. If any 
 man questions this, I say, " Go and try." Take a very 
 intimate and confidential friend ; and divulge freely to 
 him, by letter or otherwise, what are called your reli- 
 gious experiences, your feelings in prayer and medi- 
 tation, your delight in certain parts of the Holy 
 Scriptures, and so forth. Of course, admonition may 
 be given much short of this ; but yet such an effusion 
 of the heart is the direction in which admonition is 
 tending, for it always implies, and almost always 
 expresses, something of spiritual feeling in the ad- 
 monisher. Well ; are you any the better for it, when 
 it is done % Is prayer more or less easy, when you have 
 thus unburdened your heart 1 Has not the odour of 
 devotion lost something of its fragrance and freshness, 
 by being allowed too freely to come abroad % It is sure 
 to transpire any how, if you will simply let it alone ; 
 but you cannot force vents for it, without ' doing it 
 mischief. 
 
 We have said enough to counteract the mistaJ^en no- 
 tion of the way in which the Edification of others should 
 be carried on, and will just exhibit in conclusion the 
 positive side of this duty. 
 
 In a word, then, we are not so much to aim at the 
 edification of others, as to set a wholesome example, and 
 to see that there are no obstructions in the way of our 
 edifying. 
 
 Kesolve to know much of the inward life of Religioa 
 
rv.] we should seek to edify Others. 297 
 
 Cultivate in every possible way a spirit of private 
 devotion. Determine to know the power of Prayer, as 
 distinct from its form. Practise more and more in all 
 companies, and under all circumstances, the thought of 
 the Presence of God. Seek more and more to throw a 
 spiritual meaning and significance into your pursuit ; to 
 do it more simply and exclusively from the motive of 
 pleasing God, and less from all other motives. Try, by 
 a holy intention, to give even to the more trifling actions 
 of the day a religious value. This will be feeding the 
 light with oil. 
 
 Then as to not obstructing it. Never lower your 
 principles to the world's standard. Never let sin, how- 
 ever popular it may be, have any sanction or counte- 
 nance from you, even by a smile. The manly confes- 
 sion of Christ, when His cause is unpopular, is made 
 by Himself the condition of His confessing us before 
 men. If people find out that we are earnestly religious, 
 as they soon will, if the light is shining, let us make 
 them heartily welcome to the intelligence, and allow 
 them to talk and criticize as much as they please. And 
 then, again, in order that the lights may shine without 
 obstruction, in order that it may easily transpire what 
 we are, we must be simple, and study simplicity. This 
 is by no means so easy as it at first sight appears ; for 
 in this highly artificial and pretentious age all Society 
 is overlaid with numerous affectations. Detest affecta- 
 tion, as the contrary of truth, and as hypocrisy on a 
 small scale ; and allow yourself freely to be seen by 
 those around you in your true colours. There is an 
 affectation of indifference to all things, and of a lack of 
 general sensibility, which is becoming very prevalent 
 in this age, and which is the sworn foe to all simpli- 
 city of character. The persons who labour under this 
 13* 
 
298 Of the Way, dx. [part 
 
 moral disorder pretend to have lost their freshness 
 of interest in every thing; for them as they would 
 have it believed, there is no surprise and no enthusiasm. 
 Without assuming that they are really the unimpres- 
 sionable creatures which they would make themselves 
 out to be, we may warn them that the wilful dissem- 
 bling of a generous emotion is the way to suppress it. 
 As Christians, we must eschew untruth in every form ; 
 we must labour to seem just what we are, neither bet- 
 ter nor worse. To be true to God and to the thought 
 of His Presence all day long, and to let self occupy as 
 little as possible of our thoughts ; to care much for 
 His approval, and comparatively little for the impres- 
 sion we are making on others ; — to feed the inward 
 light with oil, and then freely to allow it to shine, — this 
 is the great secret of Edification. May He indoctrinate 
 us into it, and dispose and enable us to illustrate it in 
 our practice ! 
 
IV.] In what the Sjnritual Life consists. 299 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 IN WHAT THE SPIRITUAL LIFE CONSISTS 
 
 ** And he. opened his mouth, and taught them, saying, Blessed 
 are the poor in spirit : for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 
 Blessed are they that mourn : for they shall he comforted. 
 Blessed are the meek : for they shall inherit the earth. 
 Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness : 
 for they shall be filed. Blessed are the merciful : for they shall 
 obtain mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart : for they shall see 
 God. Blessed are the peacemakers : for they shall be called the 
 children of God. Blessed are they which are persecuted for right- 
 eousness' sake : for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.^'' — Matt. 
 V. 2—10. 
 
 It may seem somewhat singular, at or towards the end 
 of a work, which has been devoted to the subject of 
 Personal Religion to give an answer to the question, 
 " In what does the Spiritual Life consist '?" This defi- 
 nition, lying as it does at the foundation of the whole 
 subject, should have been made, it would appear, rather 
 at the outset than the close. To this I can only reply 
 that, if not formally made hitherto, it has all along 
 been presupposed, implied, and often explicitly referred 
 to ; and that it is far from useless at the close of any 
 systematic course of teaching to bring out into full 
 prominence the fundamental idea or ideas of the whole 
 course, before finally bidding adieu to the subject. This 
 must be my justification for introducing this question 
 at so late a period. 
 
 In what then does the Scriptural Life consist ? Unless 
 the answer to this question is very clearly defined in 
 our o\\ii minds, we shall assuredly never make any 
 solid attainment, but shall be always building and 
 
300 In what the Spiritual Life consists » [part 
 
 unbuilding, " ever learning and never able to come to 
 the knowledge of the Truth," — aild all from a funda- 
 mental blunder or eonfusedness of thought. 
 
 First, then, by way of clearing away popular and 
 prevalent errors, we may broadly assert these negative 
 positions, that the Spiritual Life consists neither in 
 ordinances, nor in actions, not yet, as some seem to 
 imagine, in activities. Let not the assertion be mis- 
 understood. The Scriptural Life is closely connected 
 with ordinances, actions, and activities, — but it no more 
 stands in these things — it is no more ordinance, or ac- 
 tion or activity — than the life of a tree is the fruit of 
 the tree, or the means for cultivating the tree. 
 
 1. It does not consist in Ordinances^ many or few. 
 It does not stand in many prayers, ejaculatory or stated, 
 nor in hearing many Sermons, nor in studying many 
 chapters of the Bible, nor in many acts of Public 
 Worship, nor even in many Communions. These are 
 means, in God's Hand, of kindling the Spiritual Life 
 in the soul of man, or means of feeding the flames when 
 kindled ; but they are not the flame itself, they are not 
 the life. It may be very necessary for a fruit-tree, in 
 order to its bearing fruit, that its roots should be stirred 
 with the spade, overlaid with the manure, moistened 
 with the watering-pot ; but nothing can be clearer 
 than that the spade, the manure, and the watering-pot 
 are distinct things from the life of the tree. Yet so 
 apt are we (at least in spiritual subjects) to confound 
 means with ends, and to erect the means into an end, — 
 an intellectual perplexity, indeed, but one which some- 
 times appears to me to bear a trace of the Fall, and to 
 be due ultimately to the corruption of our nature, — 
 that even religious people often find it hard to conceive 
 of a devout life in the absence of an apparatus of ordi- 
 
IV.] In what the Spiritual Life consists. 301 
 
 nances : whereas it is quite clear that such might exist 
 where, for some reason or other, the ordinances could 
 not be had ; in which case God, who is independent of 
 ordinances, would no doubt supply their virtue imme- 
 diately to the soul. The whole system of Monasticism 
 is an exaggeration of this fundamental error. If a man 
 has once brought himself to believe that vital religion 
 is not only much helped by (which is true), but actually 
 stands in, the study and meditation of God's Word, 
 and stated acts of w^orship, private and public, — of 
 course it is only the logical sequence from such a 
 view that, dismissing secular affairs altogether, and re- 
 tiring from Society, he should abandon himself wholly 
 to these exercises of Religion. But if, on the other 
 hand, it is perceived and acknowledged that ordinances 
 exist for the sake of living w^ell, that is, devoutly and 
 spiritually, it is then seen to be a mistake and an inver- 
 sion of the reasonable method of proceeding to live for 
 Ordinances, which is precisely the principle of mon- 
 astic life. It is a very pregnant saying of our Blessed 
 Lord's, " that the Sabbath was made for man, and not 
 man for the Sabbath." We may apply it not merely 
 to the observance of Sunday, but to all those ordinances 
 which the seventh day of rest represents, and with 
 which it is associated in our minds. These ordinances 
 are made for you, not you for them. They are de- 
 signed to bless your inner spirit with love, and joy, and 
 peace ; not designed to be an iron frame, a Procrustean 
 bed, to the measure of which that inner spirit is pain- 
 fully to cramp itself. Accordingly, wherever Our Lord 
 and His Apostles touch upon the essence and vitals of 
 true religion, there is an ominous silence as to ordinance, 
 however explicitly ordinances may be recommended in 
 other connexions. The beginninfir of the Divine Ser- 
 
302 In ivhat the Spiritual Life consists. [part 
 
 mon on the Mount goes to the root of the matter, and 
 answers the fundamental question, — " In what does 
 true religion stand 1 " Our Lord is there describing 
 not the furniture, food, and clothing of the Spiritual 
 Life, but the very life itself, which is more than meat, 
 and the very body, which is more than raiment. 
 And not a single ordinance is mentioned from beginning 
 to end of the Beatitudes. Where St. Paul details the 
 fruits of the Spirit, the same silence is observable. 
 And his compendious and noble description of the 
 kingdom of God in the human soul runs thus : " The 
 kingdom of God is not meat and drink," — it stands not 
 in outward institutions, but in interior affections, — 
 *' but righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy 
 Ghost." 
 
 2. The Spiritual Life does not consist in actions. 
 The actions are the result, the fruit, but they are not 
 the life of the tree. Yet how frequently, in the pojDular 
 estimate of the subject, are the tw^o confounded. How 
 gladly w^ould many accept this definition as perfectly 
 adequate, and as exhausting the subject — " The life of 
 true religion is a life of usefulness, full of good works 
 and almsdeeds which are done ! " There is, of course, no 
 question that where the life of true religion exists, it 
 produces these. " Every good tree," says Our Lord, 
 " bringeth forth good fruit. But though the circula- 
 tion of the sap secures the production of the fruit, the 
 fruit is not the same thing as the circulation of the sap. 
 Minds which recoil from the idea of a life devoted 
 exclusively to ordinances, are often apt to flill into this 
 opposite error. The sum and substance of true religion 
 in their view is merely the going about doing good. 
 If the good is done, if the hungry are fed, the ignorant 
 educated, the miserable relieved, they look no deeper 
 
IV.] In what the Spiritual Life consists. 303 
 
 nor ask anything more ; this they think is true, deep, 
 practical religion. But suppose the case of a man, 
 entirely destitute of resources and abilities, labouring on 
 perseveringly for the good of his fellow-creatures in a 
 very humble sphere, yet blessed with no visible success, 
 because he has none of the instrumentality necessary to 
 secure success, — they might rather hesitate to put him 
 on a level with the supporter, patron, and advocate of 
 many charities, whereas it is quite conceivable that in 
 the eyes of God he stands on a far higher level. The 
 tendency of our mind, which seeks every where 
 for definite and tangible results, strongly inclines us 
 to estimate character by outward usefulness. We take 
 instinctively a hard external view of the fruits of the 
 Spirit, looking at the thing done rather than at the 
 mind of the doer. Whereas the Apostle Paul, in his 
 enumeration of those fruits, does not mention a single 
 action, but merely a series of tempers, — " love, joy, 
 peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meek- 
 ness, temperance." 
 
 3. We said, lastly, that the Spiritual Life does notcon- 
 :5ist in activities, that is, in intensified action. And we 
 think the warning particularly needed in our own Church 
 at the present day. From one cause or another we have 
 a great deal of religious activity among us. This activity, 
 however, is by no means exclusively due to religion ; 
 religion, like every thing else, takes its colouring from 
 the spirit of the age. Now the spirit of the age is to 
 be stirring, to hate and abolish sinecures, to let no man 
 rest upon his oars. We all of us catch something of 
 this spirit, v/hich is about in the air just now, and our 
 religion, like every other part of our character, takes a 
 certain tone from it. We discover (what is awfully 
 true) that th<»re is a vast mags of misery and sin lying 
 
304 In what the Spiritual Life consists. [pakt 
 
 at our very doors. So we say, " Let us be busy, and 
 mend matters to the best of our ability." The national 
 genius here comes in to swell the tide of practical 
 enthusiasm. We are always indisposed to specuLv 
 tion, always prompt to action. What an apparatus 
 of philanthropy has been created by the spirit of 
 religious enterprise, — special services', special sermons, 
 schools of all sorts and for all classes, refuges and re- 
 formatories, hospitals and houses of mercy, meetings, 
 addresses from platforms, — ^like a forest of masts crowd- 
 ing upon the' eye in some busy, noisy dock ! Eeligious 
 people are working in earnest, and with great zest. 
 And shall I say that the zest is in some cases increased 
 by the miserable controversies of the times, on which 
 we have fallen 1 I do really believe it is so. There 
 are many worthy people, young men entering the 
 Ministry more especially, who have been sickened by 
 controversies of religious doctrines altogether. They 
 are shocked by the extravagances which they have wit- 
 nessed on one side and the other ; and they cry out 
 with Pilate, "What is truth?" Then follows the 
 mischievous inference, " The less we look into the spe- 
 culative questions of religion altogether, the less we 
 seek any definiteness of view on doctrinal subjects, the 
 happier will be our minds and the greater our useful- 
 ness. Eeligion has another side, the practical ; and to 
 that side we will give our whole minds ; we will bury 
 ourselves in our work, and thank God there is enough 
 of it to divert us effectually from speculation." If this 
 tendency should operate much more extensively among 
 us, we shall soon lose all dogma, that is, all precise 
 statements of Christian doctrine, — and as Christian 
 practice is no sejmrable thing from Christian doctrine, 
 but dependent upon it for its vitality, it may easily be, 
 
rv..] In what the Spiritual Life consists. 305 
 
 conceived that we are approximating to a very sad 
 state of things. Positive sceptical tendencies operate 
 in the same direction ; the insinuation of miodern scep- 
 tics being that the duties of Christianity are its only 
 essential part, and that, if the fulfilment of these 
 duties be secured, the end is answered ; its facts, — the 
 Incarnation, Crucifixion, and Resurrection, — need not 
 be supposed to be historical events at all, but may be 
 relegated to the domain of allegory, and looked upon as 
 pious and edifying myths. Perplexed by these wicked 
 doubts, seeing that they are wicked, and yet unable 
 satisfactorily to resolve them, — there is many an ex- 
 cellent man now-a-days, who is taking refuge in his 
 work, and feels that, while he is doing all the good in 
 his power, his foot is planted upon an impregnable rock, 
 from which it cannot be moved. Hence at this period 
 of the religious history of our country more especially, 
 the people of God need to be warned that the Spiritual 
 Life does not stand in religions activities, however in- 
 tense and fervent, but in something more internal. 
 
 II. In what then, — this is our next point, — does it 
 stand ? Our Lord and His Apostles give one very 
 unequivocal answer. *' The kingdom of God," says 
 Paul, " is righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy 
 Ghost." " Giving all diligence," says Peter, as to the 
 one thing needful, *' add to your fiiith, virtue ; and to 
 virtue, knowledge ; and to knowledge, temperance ; and 
 to temperance, patience ; and to patience, godliness ; 
 and to godliness, brotherly kindness ; and to brotherly 
 kindness, charity." It is the Master, however, who 
 gives the fullest and most methodical description of the 
 graces which constitute the Spiritual Life. And in 
 this description we recognize three points, first, that 
 the Spiritual Life is internal ; secondly, that it is super- 
 
306 In ivhat the Spiritual Life consists. [pari 
 
 natural; and, thirdly, that it is developed amid the 
 trials and antagonisms of daily life. 
 
 First ; it is internal. It consists in a series of dis- 
 positions wrought in the heart by the power of the 
 Holy Ghost. Any life, therefore, which is not more or 
 less interior, is certainly not the life of the Spirit. Any 
 life which is so busy as to leave no room for medita- 
 tion and devout affection, any life which spends all its 
 energies in external work, without ever rallying or re- 
 collecting itself at its source, is certainly not the life of 
 the Spirit. Any Martha's life, cumbered about much 
 serving, but neglectful of sitting at the feet of the 
 Divine Master, is certainly not the life of the Spirit. 
 But we must say more. Not even are private religious 
 exercises, independently of the mind with which they 
 are performed, the life of the Spirit. Confession of sin, 
 without a deep and humbling sense of it, is not Spiritual 
 Life. And what must we say of a deep and humbling 
 sense of it which does not literally take the outward 
 form of confession 1 We must say that with God it is 
 confession, although the mouth may have uttered no 
 sounds, and the mind framed no words. The asking of 
 God certain graces, without a longing to be holier, is 
 not Spiritual Life. And what of the longing to^ be 
 holier, if it should not find occasion to burst forth m 
 actual prayer 1 It is prayer in God's eyes, and no 
 prayer is so, which docs not involve a movement of 
 desire in the heart. 
 
 Secondly. The Sinritual Life is supernatural. We 
 are accustomed to confine this term merely to the 
 sphere of the senses ; we mean by the supernatural 
 such an inversion of the order of nature, as is visible to 
 the eye or ear. But there miracles of the inner, as 
 well as of the outer man ; and the spiritual life is such 
 
rv.] In what the Binritua] Life consists. 307 
 
 a miracle. There are heathen virtues, which are quite 
 in the order of nature, quite on nature's level, and ^Yhich 
 nature, with the ordinary assistances of reason and the 
 moral sense, has produced. Aristides was just; and 
 Alexander was generous ; and Diogenes was temperate ; 
 and Pliny was amiable ; and Leonidas was brave. But 
 poverty of spirit, and meekness under insults and op- 
 pressions, and the rejoicing under persecutions, and the 
 glory in tribulation, and the mourning over sin, these 
 things belong to a different system of things altogether, 
 — a system which reverses the order of nature in the 
 heart of man. It is against nature to take a slight 
 humbly, or to accept an injury sweetly and gently. 
 And because it is against nature, you might educate a 
 heathen most carefully, and train him most diligently 
 from his childhood upwards in all good habits, and yet 
 never bring him up to this point. This effect is due to 
 a Power above nature, a certain thread let down into 
 the soul from the Eisen Humanity of Christ, — " the 
 power," as St. Paul calls it, " which worketh in us," 
 and which, on the day of Pentecost, descended to take 
 up His abode in the Church. 
 
 Thirdly. The Spiritual Life, by the very definition 
 of it, is developed amid trial and antagonism. We see 
 this in several of the particulars. " Blessed are the 
 meek ; for they shall inherit the earth." Who are the 
 meek 1 When is meekness seen ? When is there scope 
 for manifesting it 1 There is no scope, except in cir- 
 cumstances of irritation or provocation. There is no 
 room for meekness in a hermitage, where the will can 
 never be thwarted, and where there are none of the jars 
 and collisions of daily life. There is no such thing as 
 meekness without antagonism, either from men or cir- 
 cumstances. To feel kindly and philanthropically dis- 
 
308 In loliat the Spiritual Life consists, [paet 
 
 posed, when all men speak well of us, and no cross 
 word is thrown in our teeth, and no cross incident har- 
 asses us, is not meekness at all, but natural benevolence, 
 or, if you will, natural amiability. " Blessed are the 
 merciful ; for they shall obtain mercy." Mercy is not 
 merely goodness ; but goodness in the face of demerit. 
 To relieve the deserving poor, or to relieve them with- 
 out any remarkable indesert on their part, is not neces- 
 sarily to be merciful. Mercy presupposes wrong done 
 against the agent, of which he might take advantage to 
 punish us, but does not. Mercy is towards the unthank- 
 ful and evil, and can only manifest itself when it comes 
 into collision with such. 
 
 We make also one more remark, in casting our eye 
 over these Beatitudes. The first of them is fundamen- 
 tal, and pervades all the graces of the spiritual man. 
 It is always present to his mind, and is more or less 
 matured according to his greater or less growth in grace. 
 " Blessed are the poor in spirit ; for theirs is the king- 
 dom of heaven." To be beaten utterly out of conceit 
 with one's own strength, goodness, and wisdom, to 
 feel that apart from God's Grace we are nothing, can do 
 nothing, — to be assured that our best resolves are like 
 water or stubble, — to re-echo, with the full and in- 
 telligent consent of our hearts, the Apostle's confes- 
 sion, " I know that in me, that is, in my flesh, dwelleth 
 no good thing," — to write upon our old nature " In- 
 corrigible," and to depend with great simplicity upon 
 Christ for all things, — this is the grace which lies at 
 the foundation of every other, and which is matured, 
 and confirmed, and deepened in us at every step in 
 advance. 
 
 Apply then, reader, the criteria, which you have 
 just heard, in the examination of your spiritual state. 
 
IV.] In what the Spiritual Life consists. 309 
 
 How far is your Christian life internal, a thing hid with 
 Christ in God, and to be manifested when He shall ap- 
 pear,— a thing of spiritual hopes, and fears, and joys, 
 and aspirations 1 How far is your heart the vineyard 
 of God, fruitful unto Him of holy dispositions, and the 
 diligent cultivation of which is your chief business, 
 your one thing needful % How far is it a little sanc- 
 tuary of worship, screened from the outer world, where 
 the light of a good and single intention aspires towards 
 God continually, and sheds light upon all that is in the 
 house 1 
 
 Again; are we deluding ourselves with the ima- 
 gination of possessing certain graces, simply because 
 we have never been tried? Are we dreaming of a 
 Spiritual Life, without an active manifestation of it 1 
 Do we fancy ourselves contented because we are pros- 
 perous and happy ; or pure, because we are consti- 
 tutionally cold; or forgiving, because we are iiever 
 provoked 1 or peacemakers, because we love our own 
 ease, and keep aloof from the affairs of our fellow- 
 men ? 
 
 And, lastly, if God indeed vouchsafes to us super- 
 natural assistance, should not our virtues correspond to 
 such aids, and have about them a sujoernaturai cast? 
 Shall we content ourselves with the cheap easy-going 
 virtues of men of the world, — amiability, integrity, up- 
 rightness, generosity? Has not our Judge already 
 asked us in His Holy Word, "What do ye more than 
 others ? " And must we not expect Him to repeat the 
 question for each of us individually, when we stand be- 
 fore His judgment-seat at the great Day of Account ? 
 Oh, may He stir within us now that spirit of holy emu- 
 lation, that hunger and thirst after righteousness, which 
 He has promised not to disappoint, that, when He shall 
 
310 That our Study of God's Truth [past 
 
 appear, we may have confidence, and not be ashamed 
 before Him at His coming ! 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THAT CUE STUDY OF GOD'S TEUTH MUST BE WITH THE 
 HEAET. 
 
 " But even unto this day, when Moses is read, iJie vail is upon their 
 heart. ^Nevertheless when it shall turn to the Lord, the vail shall 
 he taken awayy — 2 CoR. iii. 15, 16. 
 
 We purpose to employ our few remaining Chapters in 
 giving certain detached counsels, not falling under any 
 of the heads which we had marked out for our argu- 
 ment, and yet which seem needed in order to give it 
 completeness. 
 
 In the passage which stands at the head of this 
 Chapter, the intellectual blindness of the Jews is 
 traced up to the wrong state of their hearts. And it 
 is distinctly said that, when that state shall become 
 right from having been wrong, — when the nation's 
 heart, which has hitherto been averted from Him, 
 shall " turn to the Lord," — then the intellectual 
 difficulties connected with the reception of Christ shall 
 vanish altogether, — "the vail shall be taken away." 
 Indeed, even without this statement of the Apostle's, 
 we could have gathered that this was the account to be 
 given of Jewish unbelief. The miracles wrought by 
 our Lord and His Apostles were so stupendous and 
 overwhelming, and the agreement of His career with 
 the Predictions of Prophecy so close, that the convic- 
 tions of that generation of Jews must have been 
 
IV.] must be with the Heart. 311 
 
 carried by force, had there not been a predisposition 
 in the heart not to believe. As soon, therefore, as 
 this predisposition shall be removed, says the Apostle 
 in the passage before us, they shall forthwith be con- 
 vinced : " when their heart shall turn to the Lord, the 
 vail shall be taken away." 
 
 We shall make this passage the foundation of some 
 remarks which have an important practical bearing on 
 the spiritual life. 
 
 Men are well av^^are, quite independently of Religion, 
 that the understanding is liable to be prejudiced by the 
 heart. They have embodied this truth, taught them 
 by every day's experience, in the old saw, " Love is 
 blind." We are quite conscious of being partial to 
 the faults and weaknesses of those in whom our hearts 
 are deeply interested. We should exclude from the 
 trial of a man's cause both his warm friends and his 
 bitter foes, because we account strong sympathies or 
 antipathies prejudicial to the judgment. And as, for 
 the most part, we love ourselves better than other 
 people, a man of fair mind would exclude himself from 
 any share of an arbitration in which he is personally 
 interested. But the proverb extends to our judgment 
 of things, quite as much as to our judgment of persons. 
 Consider only this very common case in the experience 
 of all of us. A man, in his cool moments, sees some 
 practice which requires a momentary effort, — say, for 
 the sake of illustration, early rising, — to be healthful 
 and expedient for him. While he is not under the 
 temptation, the practice seems to have all arguments 
 in its favour, nothing against it ; but as soon as ever 
 the will becomes biassed towards a longer indulgence of 
 sleep on a particular morning, what a number of most 
 ingenious arguments spring up in the mind for this 
 
312 That our Study of God's Truth [paet 
 
 longer sleep ! In the raw and chilly morning, the 
 question of early rising seems to wear a wholly new 
 aspect, just as if a case at law, the determination of 
 which, on its being simply stated, seemed a matter of 
 common sense, had been argued before us by a very 
 plausible and specious advocate. In truth, it has been 
 so argued before us, and the advocate has been our 
 own will, propense to indolence, averse to exertion. 
 This is a very humble instance, but though humble, it 
 is one which may come home to all, of the way in 
 which the bias of the will (or, in other words, the 
 heart) affects the view which the mind takes of any 
 subject. In short, the mind of man, — the faculty by 
 which he discerns Truth, — may be com])ared to an eye 
 placed above a fuming caldron, which can see nothing 
 clearly, because the vapours intercept the vision. 
 The heart is the caldron, and sends up the vapours 
 which distort the view. Now in seeking to reform 
 Human Nature, the philosophers of antiquity either 
 did not notice this fact, or (which is the more probable 
 hypothesis) did not see how the difficulty which it 
 presents could be surmounted. At all events, by way 
 of persuading men to virtue, they made their appeal to 
 the understanding, and sought to carry their point by 
 convincing the mind. Socrates, the first and greatest 
 of all the ancient philosophers who dealt with moral 
 truth, adopted this method. He saw (and here he was 
 right) that men were not so fallen, that their moral 
 sense made no response to Truth and Reason. And he 
 thought (and here he was grievously mistaken) that 
 Truth and Reason, if forced upon men powerfully 
 and luminously, might hold their own against the 
 strength of passion. He commenced, therefore, by 
 arguing with all those who encountered him, as to the 
 
IV.] must be with the Heart. 313 
 
 truth and reasonableness of their ways of acting and 
 thinking; he called in question popular sentiments 
 and conduct, and pressed men to defend them, if they 
 could, by sheer argument, from which all superfluous 
 words were to be carefully excluded. If they could 
 not defend their own sentiments and conduct, the 
 implication was, of course, that they must, as reason- 
 able beings, abandon them. As far as the understand- 
 ing went, nothing could be more conclusive, nothing 
 could more shut a man up to follow virtue, than did 
 this method of Socrates's. But what if men do not, 
 as notoriously they do not, conclude moral questions 
 affecting themselves, on the mere verdict of the 
 understanding? What if they set the will on the 
 judgment-seat 1 give him the power of summing up, 
 and reviewing the arguments of the understanding, and 
 finally act, not as they see to be right, but as they 
 wish to act, in moments of temptation 1 Unless you 
 can rectify the will and its prepossessions, you only 
 argue before a corrupted judge, and in the sentence the 
 argument goes for nothing. 
 
 Christianity, in seeking to reform mankind, proceeds 
 on a method entirely the reverse of this. It makes its 
 first appeal to the affections, which are the springs 
 of the will, and through them clears and rectifies the 
 understanding. 
 
 Historically, Christianity commenced thus. It com- 
 menced with the career upon Earth of Our Lord Jesus 
 Christ, — a career which, although He taught spiritual 
 Truth, was by no means one of an ordinary teacher. 
 He was the good Shepherd, who came down from 
 Heaven to seek the stray sheep in the wilderness of 
 the world. No tale has so deep a pathos as the tale of 
 this search after the lost sheep. It cost the Shepherd 
 14 
 
314 That our Study of God's Truth [part 
 
 every species of hardship and endurance ; it cost Him 
 " strong crying and tears ; " it cost Him an agony and 
 blood-sweat ; 'it cost Him a most cruel and shameful 
 death upon the Cross. He went through it all, not 
 willingly only, but with the most joyful alacrity, to 
 serve and to save the sheep. He met with no return 
 from mankind in general, but calumny, vituperation, 
 execration. Often He had no shelter at night, (so 
 inhospitable was the world to Him,) and was obliged 
 to stretch His limbs upon the Mount of Olives, under 
 the canopy of the trees, exposed to the inclemency 
 of the weather. But with infinite forbearance, and 
 amazing condescension. He continued His work of 
 self-sacrifice and love, knocking at the door, now of 
 this heart, now of that, and waiting patiently for the 
 response. He endured all things heroically, — became 
 the very impersonation of heroic endurance, — for our 
 sakes, that His voice might win its way to our hearts. 
 And what did this voice communicate % What may 
 be said to have been the main scope of Our Lord's 
 teaching'? Is not the summary of it to be found in 
 that verse, " God so loved the world, that He gave His 
 only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him 
 should not perish, but have eternal life ? '' Did He 
 not come to reveal " the Father," whose name was so 
 perpetually on His lips 1 Did He not come to declare 
 the Father's Love, the Father's yearning compassion 
 over every prodigal child, the Father's infinite willing- 
 ness to receive such child again to His home 1 Was 
 not that Apostolic exhortation only a prolonging of 
 the echoes of the Saviour's voice : " We pray you, as 
 though God did beseech you by us, be ye reconciled to 
 God % " Now we say that these facts, the facts of the 
 life and sufferings and teaching of Christ, lie at the 
 
rv.] must he with the Heart. 315 
 
 foundation of Christianity, — that these are the imple- 
 ments with which Christianity works, — that this is the 
 method in which God approached men, with the view 
 of achieving their reformation. He came not with an 
 argument, though Apostles illustrated the Truth by 
 argument ; He came not with a dogma, though the 
 Christian Creed, when fully developed, embraces many 
 dogmas ; but He came with the pathos of self-devoted, 
 self-sacrificing Love. The Holy Gospels, which record 
 the history of this coming, are the first, and in every 
 way the most important books, in the canon of the 
 New Testament. Let any one read them with thor- 
 ough simplicity for the first time in his life ; or if 
 not for the first time, yet disenchanting himself, if he 
 can do so, of the effect of familiarity with the contents ; 
 and he cannot fail to be touched by them in a salutary 
 way, especially by the concluding part of the great 
 story. Aristotle tells us that Tragedy, presenting as 
 it does some example of virtue under stress of trial, 
 purifies the passions, and clears them of their dregs. 
 There is no such specific for the production of this 
 effect, as the Tragedy of the Death of Christ. He 
 who has been drawn by the Spirit of Grace to look on 
 that Tragedy, (and those who are not so drawn find 
 nothing in it attractive,) has seen and sympathized 
 with persecuted Goodness. And we do not believe 
 that such an one will find any difficulty in the doctrines 
 of the Gospel, — that of the Atonement, for example, — 
 when formally propounded. If he assaults that doctrine 
 with his intellect in the first place, he will no doubt fall 
 into endless perplexities on the subject. But let him 
 approach it by the avenue of the heart, through the door 
 of the affections and sympathies ; and all its difficulty 
 vanishes. 
 
316 That our Study of God's Truth [paet 
 
 But not only did the history of Christianity com- 
 mence with an appeal to the hearts of men ; but this is 
 the order which Grace observes in its work on each in- 
 dividual soul. 
 
 ■ The Scripture says, " With the heart man believeth 
 unto righteousness." Justifying faith is certainly not 
 a mere intellectual conviction of the truth. That there 
 may be such a conviction, quite independently of 
 justifying faith, is plain from the fact that the evil 
 spirits confessed Our Lord to be the Son of God, and 
 from the explicit reference which St. James makes to 
 this fact, when he tells us that " the devils believe and 
 tremble." We are driven, then, to the conclusion that 
 justifying faith is an operation of the heart, and by 
 consequence of the will, involving a movement of the 
 affections towards the thing or the person which is the 
 object of faith. If any of God's threatenings be the 
 object, faith takes the shape of fear, which is an affec- 
 tion. If any of His promises be the object, faith takes 
 the shape of Hope, which also is an affection; and 
 if Christ be the object of faith, it then takes the 
 shape of trust or love. Any how, it is well for us 
 to understand that the mere satisfaction* derived by 
 the mind from external evidence, — the comfort of con- 
 cluding, after a balance of arguments on either side, 
 that Christianity is of God, — though it may be a very 
 useful auxiliary to vital belief, has nothing to do with 
 the essence of that belief. In all such belief there is 
 a movement of the heart as the fundamental process, 
 although it is quite true that, as the result of this move- 
 ment, the mind is subsequently enlightened. 
 
 All this will be readily admitted, so far as the ear- 
 liest step in the Christian Life is concerned ; but we 
 doubt whether it is sufficiently considered that every 
 
IV.] must be with the Heart, SIT 
 
 forward step in that life must be made on the same 
 principle as the first. We believe that every move- 
 ment of Grace, as well as the first movement, is an 
 impulse of the heart. It is quite as true to say, " with 
 the heart man is edified," as it is to say, " with the 
 heart man believeth." For there is no true edification 
 without faith ; and all growth in grace resolves itself 
 into a growth of faith. 
 
 Now let us somewhat expand and practically de- 
 velope this truth, that edification is through the heart, 
 and not through the mind. Let us mark what bearings 
 it has on the conduct of the spiritual life. 
 
 (1) Observe that testimony is borne to it by the 
 universal experience of Christians. What is that im- 
 palpable something, which if an inferior Sermon has, it 
 succeeds in doing good, but if a superior Sermon lacks, 
 it fails of doing good? We call it '" unction." A 
 Sermon may be very logical without unction, admirably 
 argued, perfect as a composition, original withal, and 
 possessing the great merit of setting old truths in a 
 new light ; and yet as a Sermon it shall be indifl^erent, 
 or at least indifferent in the estimate of spiritual men, 
 because it lacks unction. And what is unction? It 
 is hard to define, no doubt, because it lies more in the 
 manner of saying things than in the things said ; and 
 manner is always hard to define. Shall we err if we 
 say that by unction is meant a fervent w^ay of throw- 
 ing out Divine Truth, corresponding with the fervent 
 character of that Truth ? Unction would be no merit 
 at all, but the reverse, if the Gospel were to be re- 
 ceived by the intellect rather than the afl^ections. In 
 any thing like a scientific demonstration of truth, an 
 appeal to the affections w^ould be absurdly out of place. 
 But the Gospel is primarily and fundamentally an 
 appeal to the affections. And it is naturally felt that 
 
318 That our Study of God's Truth [paet 
 
 for a man to make such an appeal without warmth and 
 fervour in his own spirit, to make it as a by-stander 
 who looks on from without, but is not himself in- 
 terested, or even to make it in over-studied phraseology, 
 picking and choosing the words which are used, is to 
 adopt a style unsuitable to the subject-matter. Men 
 know that the Gospel is designed to meet their sympa- 
 thies ; and if it should be presented to them in such a 
 manner as not to do this, they feel that it is wronged 
 and misrepresented. 
 
 (2) Owing to our not perceiving, or not remember- 
 ing, this truth, that edification is through the heart, 
 religious exercises are sometimes taken to be edify- 
 ing which are not so. Shall I say that much of our 
 ordinary reading of Holy Scripture comes under this 
 head ? that it often resolves itself into a mere mental 
 exercitation, and that not of a very high order — an 
 exercitation in which the only faculties evoked are, 
 Attention, Memory, and Comparison ? We lodge the 
 points of the Chapter in our minds, — we call back one 
 or two texts which convey similar doctrines, or perhaps 
 merely echo back the same phraseology, — we ask our- 
 selves how this or that difficulty is to be explained, 
 and possibly invent some explanation of it ; and there 
 we make an €nd, with a feeling, perhaps, of satisfaction 
 that we have not done amiss. This method of reading 
 may be repeated until we become adepts as textuaries, 
 and have the very words of Holy Writ glibly on our 
 tongue. But oh ! what a misuse of terms is there in 
 the phraseology so often applied to things got by rote, 
 of which we «ay that they are " learned by heart ! " 
 So far from being learned by heart, such things are 
 often not even learned by mind, for sometimes they are 
 most deficiently understood ; and the very utmost that 
 can be said in favour of such learning is that it lodges 
 
IV.] must he with the Heart. 31£^ 
 
 truth ill the memory, which may expand and serve a 
 good purpose at some future time. Has our study of 
 Scripture given any bias to the will in the path of 
 holmessl Has it at all stimulated the affections to 
 the Love of God, or of our neighbour "? Has it nerved 
 us against temptation? supported us under trial? 
 opened to us a door of hope, when we were fainting 1 
 has it prompted a prayer ? or stirred in us a holy 
 ambition ? By these and the like questions must its 
 influence upon the heart be tested ; and unless it has 
 had some influence upon the heart, there has been no 
 edification in it. 
 
 Let the devout man be upon his guard against an 
 interest in Holy Scripture of a false kind. At first 
 sight it might seem as if any and every interest in that 
 Holy Book must be simply good, and deserving of 
 encouragement. Bnt indeed this is not so. And it is 
 very necessary to notice this at a period when great 
 intellectual activity is being attracted towards the 
 Bible. We cannot wonder at the interest which at- 
 taches to the Sacred Volume even in a literary point 
 of view. The earlier part of it is the oldest literature 
 in the world ; and, speaking of the Bible as a composi- 
 tion, there is nothing which can . rival it in simplicity, 
 in grace, in force, in poetry. The very difficulties 
 which it presents are beyond measure interesting to an 
 intelligent mind. But even in the critical study of the 
 Bible, which some are called and bound to pursue, it 
 should be remembered that the great purport of the 
 Volume is moral and spiritual, — that it is given " for 
 doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in 
 righteousness." If it be read without any reference to 
 this its mam object, it must certainly be misconstrued. 
 But if even the sacred critic must not overlook the 
 
320 That our Study of God^s Truth, dc. [part 
 
 moral design of the Volume, how constantly should it 
 be kept in mind by him who reads for education only ! 
 Let such an one hold the mere understanding in check, 
 and learn to restrain with a very sharp curb his curi- 
 osity. Curiosity is the interest of the mind ; and what 
 is needed for edification is the interest of the heart. It 
 will be wasting an hour allotted to devotional reading to 
 spend it on the critical investigation of a difficult pas- 
 sage. The difficult passages are not the most instruc- 
 tive ; and many of them we believe to be altogether 
 inexplicable by human research, — to have been left 
 there purposely, with the view of proving our humility 
 and faith, and to prevent the haughty understanding of 
 man from riding proudly and smoothly over the Word 
 of the Lord. 
 
 The plain things of the Word, which " thou hast 
 known from a child," — which thou hast received from 
 thy grandmother Lois, and thy mother . Eunice, — are 
 the really instructive things. The Creed, the Lord's 
 Prayer, the Ten Commandments, 3nd such like rudi- 
 ments of Faith ; — all saving truths are wrapped up in 
 these ; — labour, and pray, and strive to have thy heart 
 affected with them. 
 
 (3) Finally ; let our studies turn more and more on 
 that which is the core and centre of the Bible. The 
 Bible is a revelation of God ; and the core and centre 
 of God's Revelation is Christ crucified. Many other 
 subjects are treated in the Bible besides this ; but this 
 is really the pith and marrow of all ; this wraps up in 
 itself the whole compass of edification. In the Book 
 of the Revelation we read of *' the Tree of Life, which 
 bare twelve manner of fruits, and the very leaves of 
 which were for the healing of the nations." It is the 
 Passion-Tree, or Cross of the Lord Jesus, which, 
 
IV.] On Living by Rule. 321 
 
 planted by faith in the hearts of His followers, brings 
 forth there all the fruits of the Spirit, and even the 
 leaves of which, — every slight circumstance of it, w^hich 
 apparently might be detached without injury to the^ 
 stem, — are medicinal to the soul. Study then the 
 Passion of Christ in all its details — the apprehension, 
 the binding, the buffeting, the spitting, the scourging, 
 the mockery, the gall, the nails, the crown of thorns, 
 the burning thirst, the exceeding great and bitter cry, 
 the Precious Death which crowns the whole. Study it 
 with fervent prayer and longing desire rather than 
 prying curiosity. Study it side by side with thy sins, 
 which made such a sacrifice necessary. So, under the 
 influence of the Spirit of grace and supplications, shalt 
 thou mourn for Him whom thou hast pierced ; and this 
 tenderness of spirit thou shalt find to be the principle 
 of growth in Grace, — the greatest of all motive powers 
 in the spiritual life. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 ON LIVING BY EULE. 
 
 " Upon the first day of the week let every one of you lay by him in 
 store as God hath prospered him^ that there be no gatherings when 
 I comey — 1 Cor. xvi. 2. 
 
 There is a discrepancy between this passage and the 
 general tone of New Testament precept, which cannot 
 fail to arrest a thoughtful reader ; and we shall en- 
 deavour to turn to some account the inquiry, to which 
 this discrepancy might give rise in his mind. 
 
 St. Paul, the most disenthralled of all the Apostles 
 14* 
 
322 On Living by Bule. [part 
 
 from the bondage of Judaism, here gives a rule to his 
 Corinthian converts on the subject of almsgiving. The 
 rule was that on every first day of the week (or Sun- 
 day) each member of the Church should lay by a part 
 of his substance, varying with the amount of his earnings 
 during the past week, for the relief of the poor Chris- 
 tians at Jerusalem. The wisdom of such a rule of 
 almsgiving is obvious. A considerable sum would thus 
 be gradually accumulated, which though it might not 
 appear formidable in its separate instalments, a man 
 might hesitate to give in one lump. And then, again, 
 such a rule ensured to the givers a gradual discipline in 
 Christian benevolence, which would be far more bene- 
 ficial to them, and a far greater test of character, than 
 one great effort of it. A great effort may be made in a 
 moment of excitement ; but continual little efforts can 
 only be made on principle. Lastly, by adopting this 
 plan, the collection would be over and done before the 
 Apostle visited them, and their minds would be free of 
 the care and responsibility of it, and ready to receive 
 the spiritual benefits of his counsel and ministry. 
 
 There can be no question, then, of the policy of such 
 a rule. Still, a rule it is, and it has all the properties 
 of a rule. It defines the exact method, and the exact 
 period of the duty ; the sum is to be proportionate to 
 the weekly earnings ; it is to be laid by every Sunday. 
 And it has all the narrowness inherent in the nature 
 of rules; that is, it is not adapted to the circum- 
 stances of all men. In the case of incomes not ac- 
 cruing weekly, but yearly, or half-yearly, the rule 
 would require to be recast. The deposit would then 
 have to be made, not on the first day of the week, but 
 whenever the income accrued. And though the Apos- 
 tolic authority made this precise method of almsgiving 
 
IV.] 0)1 Living by Rule. 323 
 
 binding on the Corinthian Church, there is probably no 
 Christian of modern times who thinks himself bound to 
 the literal observance of the rule in question, however 
 much we may be bound, as of course we all are, to the 
 spirit and principle of it. 
 
 But, as I have said, the passage is exceptional ; it is 
 not in accordance with the general tone of the precepts 
 of the New Testament. They do not generally enter 
 so much into particulars. They are not commonly rules 
 at all ; but great principles of duty ; and unless they 
 are apprehended as being such, they will certainly be 
 misconstrued. 
 
 It is even surprising, until we come to consider it, 
 when all the difficulty vanishes, what a dearth of rules 
 there is in the New Testament. Who would not have 
 thought, for example, that Godwould have prescribed to 
 us a certain number of times for prayer daily ? How 
 natural that it should have been said, " Pray when you 
 rise in the morning, and w^hen you lie down at night ; " 
 and again, " Attend Public Worship on the first day of 
 the week or Lord's Day." Whereas instead of any such 
 rules, we have simply the principles laid down for our 
 guidance, " Pray without ceasing." " Not forsaking the 
 assembling of yourselves together." " Where two or 
 three are gathered together in my Name, there am I in 
 the mrdst of them." 
 
 The fact is, that any prescription of stated times for 
 prayer would not have elasticity enough for a New 
 Testament precept, — it would have too much of the 
 letter, too little of the spirit, to be in harmony with the 
 general tenour of the Volume. The subject may be re- 
 garded in this light. No law of Christ may under any 
 circumstances be violated. His laws, therefore, can 
 never be of such a nature, as that men shall be unable, 
 
324 On Living by Rule. [part 
 
 under certain circumstances, to keep them. Had it 
 been said in the New Testament, " Attend Public 
 Worship every Sunday," the primitive Christians, while 
 under the stress of persecution, might have often found 
 it impossible to fulfiLthe precept. And modern Chris- 
 tians, engaged in tending sick persons who cannot 
 be left with safety, must, in the case supposed, have 
 broken the command of Christ. Now Christ's com- 
 mands are no trifles, which may be lightly dispensed 
 with ; the very least of them must be magnified and 
 made honourable by the punctual obedience of each 
 disciple. There these commands steer clear of 
 all circumstances, because circumstances are infinitely 
 variable ; or, to state the same thing in another shape, 
 they are capable of adaptation to all circumstances, 
 because they prescribe the spirit, and not the letter, — 
 the principle, and not the rule. " Not forsaking the 
 assembling of yourselves together." Should you be 
 really and lawfully hindered by works of necessity and 
 love from attending public worship on the Lord's Day, 
 you break no law whatever by absenting yourselves 
 from it ; nay, because God sends the hindrance in the 
 order of His Providence, you are doing His Will in 
 absenting yourself, and shall none the less realize His 
 Presence, and receive His Blessing, in the sanctuary of 
 your heart. Whereas, on the other hand, when *here is 
 no such hindrance, and when opportunities offer, you do 
 forsake the assembling of yourself together with your 
 brethren, if you do not avail yourself of them. The 
 precept is free enough to give dispensation in circum- 
 stances of necessity, while at the same time it is strict 
 enough to secure obedience, where there are no such 
 circumstances. 
 
 Notwithstandinjr what has been said of the absence 
 
rv.] On Living by Rule. 325 
 
 from Scripture of any specific prescription of stated 
 periods of private and Public Worship, there are very 
 few Christians, it may be presumed, who do not regard 
 morning and evening private prayer, and Public Wor- 
 ship on Sundays, as a sort of law of conscience, to the 
 observance of which they are in all ordinary cases 
 bound. It may be said to be a rule framed out of 
 Scriptural principles by the spiritual instincts and com- 
 mon agreement of Christians, that men shall pray on 
 rising and retiring to rest ; and that, as often as the 
 first day of the week comes round, they shall assemble 
 together with their fellow-Christians for united acts of 
 prayer and praise. And these rules have been im- 
 mensely serviceable ; — have secured a large amount of 
 real obedience to the Divine Precepts, which, according 
 to the constitution of the human mind, could not have 
 been secured in any other way. The value and impor- 
 tance of rules, however, is not perceived until we 
 thoroughly understand the relation in which Holy Scrip- 
 ture stands to the spiritual instinct of Christians, and 
 the respective provinces of the two. To this point we 
 will now give our attention. 
 
 The field of Nature, then, presents a remarkable 
 resemblance to the field of Scripture; there are many 
 points of comparison between them. One striking re- 
 semblance is this, that Nature furnishes materials for 
 all the arts of life, even as Scripture furnishes principles 
 for all rules of holy living. There is stone in the quar- 
 ries of Nature ; there is clay in her soils ; there is tim- 
 ber in her* forests,* and coal in her mines ; there is fire 
 in her flints, and the power of steam in her waters ; 
 there is food in her grains, clothing in her flocks, and 
 beverage in her vines. The various arts of life de- 
 velope these resources of Nature for the comfort and 
 
326 On Living by Rule. [paet 
 
 well-being of man. And these arts are of the greatest 
 importance to that comfort. Without architecture we 
 must sleep under the canopy of the sky, and cross the 
 mountain stream by springing across from stone to 
 stone ; without the weaver's art we should be none the 
 better for the sheep's fleece ; and without the industry 
 and ingenuity of man in other forms, corn could not 
 be converted into bread, nor the juice of the grape into 
 wine. 
 
 Now just as Nature furnishes all the materials of 
 life, which art developes and makes up, (if I may so 
 say,) for use, so Holy Scripture furnishes the materials 
 for all rules of holy living, which rules the spiritual in- 
 stinct and experience of the children of God extracts and 
 draws up in form. No rule can be of the least service, 
 whose material, that is, whose fundamental principle, is 
 not found in Scripture. Every rule must be positively 
 vicious and mischievous, whose fundamental principle 
 Scripture contradicts. Thus, if any one should recom- 
 mend, as a rule of holy living, the dwelling entirely 
 apart from human society, on the ground that such, 
 society is often a snare, we should take that man back 
 to Holy Scripture and say, " This is a mischievous and 
 false rule of yours ; for it is the will of our Lord that 
 His disciples should be the antiseptic salt of society, 
 which they cannot be, unless they mix with it. 'I pray 
 not,' said He, * that thou shouldest take them out of 
 the world, but that thou shouldest keep them from the 
 evil.' " The rule, therefore, which shuts men up in 
 the cloister and th6 hermitage, is a§ sure to come to 
 a disastrous end, as is the house which has been con- 
 structed in entire ignorance of the first principles of 
 mechanics ; and whose roof falls in accordingly. You 
 can no more construct a wholesome rule in defiance of a 
 
IV.] On Livincj by Rule. 32T 
 
 law of Scripture, than you can construct a sound build 
 ing in defiance of a law of Nature. 
 
 From this very simple analogy, then, we learn the 
 great importance, as well as the subordinate position, of 
 rules. It was not the scbpe of the Christian Scriptures 
 to do any thing beyond furnishing the principles of duty, 
 just as it was not the scope of the Creator in Nature to 
 do any thing beyond furnishing materials for the supply 
 of man's various wants. Yet we cannot gather from 
 hence that rules are not absolutely necessary (to some 
 extent at least) for a holy life. Man's wants were syrely 
 meant to be regularly and comfortably supplied, though 
 Nature furnishes ; only the materials for supplying 
 them. The mind of man was endowed with art, in 
 order that he might invent, contrive, plan, and execute 
 the different products of civilization, — bread, raiment, 
 dwellings, bridges, and aqueducts. And one of the 
 great ends for which the Church at large, and her indi- 
 vidual members and ministers, have been endowed with 
 the Holy Ghost, is to guide them in framing from the 
 principles of the Inspired Word rules of conduct, which 
 may serve as a material assistance in the attainment 
 of that holiness, without which no man shall see the 
 Lord. 
 
 Accordingly, such rules have been, to a certain extent, 
 framed, as we have seen, by the public opinion and 
 general practice of the Church, which may be said to 
 prescribe, at all events, private prayer morning and 
 evening, and Public Worship on Sundays; and which is 
 adopting, if it has not yet universally adopted, family 
 prayer either once or twice in each day. Further rules 
 are given in books of devotion, — where you will find 
 forms of self-examination and preparation for the IToly 
 Communion, and other forms for an annual examination 
 
328 On Living by Rule. [part 
 
 and renewal of our Christian vows. Other suggestions 
 to the same effect are sometimes made from the pulpit, 
 though (as we have before had occasion to remark) 
 more rarely than they ought to be. But we are now 
 speaking more particularly of the individual member of 
 Chi'ist, and of the part he should take in framing, or 
 adopting, such rules, and embodying them in his daily 
 practice. And on this point we desire to speak with all 
 the earnestness and emphasis, w^hich the importance of 
 the subject demands. 
 
 Let it be considered, then, how grave is the re- 
 sponsibility with which each of us is charged, of keep- 
 ing our own souls, and saving them alive. Let it be 
 considered how the issue of our happiness or misery 
 through all eternity is suspended, in the marvellous 
 arrangements of Divine Providence, on the conduct of 
 threescore years and ten, — on the shape which our 
 characters take in that short span of time. Let it be 
 considered again that, putting Christ and His cove- 
 nanted Grace out of the question, we are utterly 
 unequal to the bearing so great a .burden under so sore 
 an opposition, and must in an instant be crushed by it, 
 if we undertook it in our own strength. Be it remem- 
 bered, too, that this burden cannot possibly be shifted 
 to other shoulders, but must be borne by ourselves 
 alone. And then, from what we know of success, and 
 the means of success in worldly undertakings, let us 
 consider whether we are likely to succeed in adminis- 
 tering this all-important affair, and to bring the conduct 
 of it to a happy issue, without some definite plan and 
 method of proceeding, wisely laid and faithfully exe- 
 cuted. To some, indeed, it may seem as if the placing 
 ourselves under any rules were for a Christian a sort of 
 return to the bondage of the law, and an interference 
 
IV.] On Living hy Rule. 329 
 
 with the liberty of the new and spiritual dispensation. 
 But be it observed, that the adoption of rules is recom- 
 mended to Christians not as a bondage but as a help to 
 the will, and as a discipline for bracing and hardening 
 it. What Christian man of these degenerate days can 
 say with truth that he has risen above the necessity of 
 all such rules ? What Christian man could safely afford 
 to dispense with the obligation of private prayer morn- 
 ing and evening, and of stated Public Worship, although 
 these obligations are bound upon him, not by the explicit 
 letter of Holy Scripture, but by the godly customs-and 
 traditional usages of the Christian Church ? The will 
 of the best of us is lamentably weak and vacillating, and 
 needs all the support and strength which can be given 
 to it. This support and strength can only come from 
 the -Spirit of Christ; but then this Spirit visits us in 
 the diligent use of the means. Now by general pre- 
 cepts, exacting a perfect and universal obedience, the 
 will is not strengthened. The indefiniteness of such 
 precepts as to time and method renders them easy of 
 evasion, and, when the trial comes, the weak will takes 
 the opening which is left to it by the breadth and spiri- 
 tuality of the law. But when the precept takes the 
 shape of a rule, and condescends to particulars as to 
 time, place, and method, the will, obeying it punctually, 
 finds its power strengthened by such obedience ; and 
 submission becomes easier for the future, until at length 
 it is yielded habitually. 
 
 How, then, since rules, if discreetly used, are so 
 serviceable, shall we proceed in the formation or adoption 
 of them % Now, just as a little experience of our own 
 physical constitution puts us into possession of the 
 amount and kind of food, the amount and kind of air 
 and exercise which suits us best, so a slight experience 
 
330 On Living hy Rule. [part 
 
 of the spiritual life, if it be but an earnest one, soon 
 teaches us wlfat restrictions it is important to lay upon 
 ourselves, what should be our leading resolves, and 
 what form and length of devotion is suitable and expe- 
 dient for us. Minds are almost infinitely various ; and 
 according to the character of our own mind must be 
 the discipline we allot to it. Some persons can pro- 
 fitably go through much longer devotions than others ; 
 because some are naturally more recollected, and some 
 more dissipated by external things. Persons in rude 
 health and high spirits will need external mortification 
 in things innocent, to*a degree which might be extreme- 
 ly prejudicial to those in whom the tone of animal 
 life is always feeble. Persons called to much active 
 business must study how they may make their devo- 
 tions very short, very frequent, and very fervent ; those 
 who have leisure will be able to consecrate a larger 
 portion of it to direct acts of worship, and will find 
 their account in doing so. Then, as to the desirable- 
 ness of frequent Communion, this will vary much 
 with the temperament and circumstances of each 
 individual, as well as with his progress in the spiritual 
 life, and the quiet opportunities which he can manage 
 to secure beforehand. Let each man do in this matter 
 as in his conscience he thinks to be best for himself 
 and, according to the Apostolic rule of love, neither 
 judge his brother as a formalist, because he partakes 
 often of that most blessed Sacrament, nor despise him 
 as irreligious, because he finds a rarer celebration more 
 profitable at present. Again, as to the almsgiving, some 
 rule surely must be felt by all of us to be urgently 
 needed ; and here, especially, the form and shape which 
 the duty will take will be almost infinitely various. 
 Let each man only make sure of securing by his practice 
 
rv.] On Living hy Rule. 331 
 
 the principle, which is that God has a claim upon a 
 certain fair proportion of our annual income, which 
 portion is literally not ours but His ; and that to with- 
 hold from Him such a proportion, independently of 
 the dishonour done Him thereby, is as likely to be 
 prejudicial to our spiritual interests as the withholding 
 from Him a portion of our time for the exercises of 
 devotion. Let this principle be deeply settled in the 
 mind ; and then the details adjusted honestly in ac- 
 cordance with it. Though the subject is one which 
 defies, more than any other, all attempts at a general 
 rule, the method prescribed by the Apostle to the 
 Corinthians may perhaps be found serviceable, and in 
 many cases would be quite practicable, that of laying 
 by in reserve a certain portion of money, as our income 
 accrues. The doing this regularly and punctually 
 might very likely free the mind from those perplexing 
 considerations, as to whether we are doing our duty in 
 this matter of almsgiving, which are apt at times to 
 harass all earnest and thoughtful Christians. And to 
 be rid of perplexities is a great point gained towards 
 holy living. It is not easy to grow in grace, while the 
 mind is in a tangle, and the will in a state of hesitation 
 and unsettlement. 
 
 Finally, (and passing over without notice many 
 points which might be touched, but which the mind of 
 the reader must supply,) specific resolutions are of the 
 greatest service in the Spiritual Life. They must be 
 framed upoii the knowledge of our weak points and be- 
 setting sins ; and it is well every morning to draw up 
 one or more of them, after a foresight of the temp- 
 tations to which we are liable to be exposed, and the 
 circumstances by which we are likely to be surrounded. 
 Let it be remembered generally that nothing is sc 
 
332 On Living by Bule. [part 
 
 likely to destroy that recollectedness of mind, which is 
 the very atmosphere of the Spiritual Life, as unexpected 
 incidents for which we are in no wise prepared, and 
 which often stir in us sudden impulses of almost uncon- 
 trollable feeling. We cannot, of course, foresee all such 
 incidents ; but still there are many of them, which, from 
 a survey of the day, we may think likely to arise. Let 
 us arm ourselves for them, when they do come, by a 
 holy resolution, which will take its shape from the 
 peculiar nature of the temptation offered, — a resolution 
 perhaps to busy ourselves in some useful work, and so 
 divert the mind, or to give a soft answer which turns 
 away wrath, or to repeat secretly a verse of some 
 favourite hymn, or only to cast a mental glance on 
 Christ crucified, which indeed is the most sovereign re- 
 medy against temptation known in the spiritual world. 
 In any case let our rules be such as may be easily and 
 cheerfully observed, remembering that we are to serve 
 God in the. newness of the spirit, not in the oldness of 
 the letter. Let the object be to make them a help, not 
 to convert them into a penance. And let their in- 
 feriority and subserviency to the principle on which they 
 are founded be always kept in mind. Let them not be 
 easily dispensed with when once made ; and yet let there 
 be no foolish superstitious scruple about dispensing 
 with them when real necessity arises. Oh, who shall 
 teach the one-sided mind of man the true middle path 
 between the bondage of observances (which is the 
 bondage of Judaism), and that spurious (so-called) free- 
 dom, which affects to disdain self-discipline, and refuses 
 to acknowledge itself under the Law to Christ ! God 
 will show us the path, if we will not lean to our own 
 understanding, but follow, with the simplicity and 
 docility of children, the guidance of His hand. 
 
IV.] Of the Mischief and Danger, d;c. 333 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 OF THE MISCHIEF AND DANGER OF EXAGGEPwATIONS IN 
 EELIGION. 
 
 " Let us prophesy according to the propoi'tion of faiths 
 
 Rom. xii. 6. 
 
 Lord Bacon somewhere compares religion to the sun, 
 which has two contrary effects upon live and dead 
 animal substances. Live animal substances, — the living 
 body of man, for example, — the sun invigorates, and 
 cheers, and promotes the functions of life in them. 
 But in dead animal substances the sun breeds worms, 
 and turns them to corruption. Similarly, he says, 
 religion invigorates a sound mind, and cheers a sound 
 heart, while in a morbid mind it breeds noisome super- 
 stitions, and miserable scruples, and grotesque, and 
 even monstrous, fancies ; the fault however not being 
 in religion, but in the diseased mind, which is subjected 
 to its influences. Such is the thought of the great phi- 
 losopher, if these are not the very words in which he 
 has expressed it. 
 
 We have only to survey the history of Christianity, 
 to see how eminently just this comparison is. The 
 Gospel, as taught by our Lord and His Apostles, is 
 holy, pure, divine, transparently clear, radiant alike 
 with the glory of God and the happiness of man — of 
 that there is no doubt ; yet what twists has the mind 
 of man contrived to give it, so that in some forms of 
 Christianity you can hardly at all recognize the original 
 draught, as it came from the Divine mind ! What 
 follies, flmcies, superstitions, licentious doctrines, have 
 founded themselves — not justly of course, but with a 
 
334 Of the Mischief and Danger [part 
 
 most perverse ingenuity — upon the Scriptures of the 
 Old and New Testament ! 
 
 This has arisen, not from any fault or shortcoming 
 in the Scriptures themselves (God forbid ! His Word 
 is, like Himself, perfect), but from a certain morbid 
 tendency in the human mind to caricature truths pre- 
 sented to it. I believe we cannot express the ten- 
 dency in question more exactly than by calling it a 
 tendency to caricature. A caricature is the likeness of 
 a person, in which the artist has caught some of the 
 leading points of the countenance, but has so unduly 
 exaggerated them as to make the whole likeness absurd 
 and grotesque. There is always a point of resemblance 
 in a caricature, or persons would not know for whom it 
 was meant ; but the point is excessively magnified and 
 thrown out of all proportion to the other lineaments, or 
 people would take it seriously, and it would cease to be 
 a caricature, and become a portrait. Now it would be 
 very interesting to consider every heresy which has 
 hitherto arisen, and see how in each case it has been a 
 caricature of some one point of Christian Truth, — an 
 exaggeration, by w^hich the fair proportion of the Faith 
 (of which St. Paul speaks in the Epistle to the Romans) 
 has been distorted, and a single passage of Scripture or 
 a single class of passages, brought into undue promi- 
 nence. We will take one or more instances from those 
 heresies which are better known. The truth upon 
 which the Quaker founds his whole system, is that the 
 New Dispensation is spiritual. No truth can well be 
 more vital, more important, or more apt, through the 
 subtle encroachments of formalism (a sin which is at all 
 times waylaying us), to be dropt out of sight. It is 
 quite necessary for all of us to turn round every now 
 and then, and ask ourselves whether we are properly 
 
rv.] of Exaggerations in Religion. 335 
 
 awake to it. That the law, under which Christians 
 live, is the law, not of a written table, nor of a written 
 book, but " the law of the Spirit, of life in Christ Jesus," 
 written on the fleshy table of the heart ; that in place 
 of a code prescribing or forbidding actions, our Legis- 
 lator has given us a code of Beatitudes on certahi states 
 of heart and feeling ; that in the Gospel morality what 
 we do goes for comparatively little, and what we are — 
 our motives and intentions — for every thing ; that each 
 movement of the heart is judged by Him who reads 
 the heart ; that' God is a Spirit, and therefore to be 
 worshipped in spirit and in truth, and that, accordingly, 
 to approach him with outward ceremonial, exclusive of 
 the heart, is as much an impossibility in the nature of 
 things, as to endow matter with the properties of mind, 
 and make a stone work a mathematical problem ; all 
 this is not only true, but precious truth, of which we 
 require to be reminded continually ; and the Quakers 
 would have deserved the warmest thanks of Christen- 
 dom, if they had done nothing more than brought 
 it forward prominently, and illustrated it strikingly. 
 But, unhappily, having seized this one feature of the 
 Truth as it is in Jesus, they caricatured it. They pro- 
 ceeded on the theory of a spiritual dispensation to such 
 an absurd extent, as to rob the Church of her Sacra- 
 ments, the repositories and vehicles of that very inward 
 spiritual Grace, of which the Quakers themselves were 
 the stoutest maintainers. If religion is spiritual, they 
 argued, we must have nothing material about it ; so, 
 notwithstanding the Lord's words, " Go ye, baptizing 
 all nations," and " Do this in remembrance of Me," \\q 
 will banish from our meetings the water, the bread, and 
 the wane, and be baptized and communicate in the spirit 
 only. It has always been the opinion of pious and 
 
336 Of the MiscJiief and Danger [paet 
 
 judicious divines in the Church, that because, even in 
 the Sacraments, the inward spiritual grace is the chief 
 matter, Christians shut out from communicating sacra- 
 men tally (by illness or other necessity) may do so 
 spiritually in their closets by uniting their prayers 
 and intercessions with that which is passing in the 
 Church ; but the actual renunciation of the outward 
 visible sign, as the Quakers have renounced it, would 
 never have entered into the head of any one, unless his 
 mind had been possessed with some 'one idea, and he 
 had resolved to make that idea stand for the whole of 
 Christianity. — We offer another and more recent in- 
 stance of a very serious error, which we fear is fast 
 assuming the proportions of a heresy. It is the delight- 
 ful announcement of the Holy Scripture, which should 
 make every heart bound with joy,-^-and it may be said 
 to be the very most fundamental truth of our religion, 
 that " God is Love." His Love He has shown by a 
 Sacrifice which must surely have wrung to the utmost 
 His paternal heart, if a similar sacrifice would have 
 proved to a mere human parent the most acutely pain- 
 ful of all trials, — the sacrifice of His dear Son, Who 
 from all eternity had lain in His bosom. Certain 
 divines of our own day have perceived this truth of 
 God's Love clearly. They cannot perceive it too 
 clearly ; they cannot proclaim it too loudly, — not if 
 they had a hundred tongues, and the lungs of a Stentor. 
 Down with all teaching, which by real logical inference 
 contradicts this fundamental truth ; — it must be false, 
 unscriptural, mischievous. That our God is a hard 
 taskmaster, requiring of us services, which will not 
 ultimately make for our own happiness ; that austerities, 
 as austerities, without any spiritual end, are pleasing 
 to Him and propitiate His wrath (a notion utterly and 
 
rv.] of Exaggerations in Religion. 337 
 
 simply heathen) ; that onlv the Second Person of the 
 Blessed Trinity smiles upon iis with a gracious welcome, 
 and that the brow of the First is always contracted 
 with a gloomy frown towards sinners : — let these sen- 
 timents by all means be demolished with axe and 
 hammer, because they contradict God's own testimony 
 respecting Himself. But to go the length of saying 
 that anger is inconsistent with love, (an assertion which 
 the analogy of parental affection surely enables us flatly 
 to contradict,), or to go the further length of saying 
 that justice is inconsistent with compassion, against all 
 experience of human justice; (for over what offender 
 led out to execution, does not the heart of man relent 
 at the last moment, while yet feeling the justice and 
 necessity of the proceeding X) and to acknowledge no 
 relations with God as a Judge, because He stands to 
 us in the relation of a father, this is a monstrous exag- 
 geration, whereby the Faith once given to the saints is 
 grievously caricatured, and its fair proportions marred. 
 God loves me deeply, purely, intensely ; longs to com- 
 municate Himself to me ; — that is indisputably true, 
 and I may take to myself all the comfort of it without 
 a moment's hesitation. But God hates my sin, detests 
 it, brought Christ to a strict reckoning for it, and will 
 never consent to save me from its guilt, without saving 
 me from the power of it too : — that is equally true, and 
 I may take to myself all the warning of it, without a 
 moment's hesitation. 
 
 These two instances are enough to show that very 
 serious errors and heresies spring from not maintaining 
 what St. Paul calls " the proportion of the faith," — that 
 is, from giving to any one doctrine, however true and im- 
 portant, so great a prominence that it throws into the 
 shade all others wliich counterbalance it. 
 15 
 
338 Of the Mischief and Danger [pabt 
 
 And be it remembered that, where there is no formal 
 or actual heresy, the one-sided tendency of the human 
 mind is nevertheless operative in religious persons, and 
 may lead to a vast amount of unsuspected mischief and 
 error, which shall corrupt their religion, and breed in it 
 many morbid and fanatical fancies. In many spiritual 
 books, which in the main are excellent, — perhaps I 
 might say in every spiritual book, more or less, which 
 is not the Bible, — a strain is put upon certain precepts 
 of the Gospel, which not only caricatures them, and 
 perhaps sets them at issue with other precepts resting 
 on the same authority, but would have the effect of 
 cramping into an unnatural state the mind which 
 should strive after obedience to them. As nothing 
 illustrates with the same effect as an example, T will 
 give one ; and, the better to exhibit the principle, it 
 shall be in an extreme form. St. Francis of Sales is a 
 writer of the Eoman Communion ; but one from whose 
 writings and life Christians of evei;y communion may 
 derive perhaps as much edification as can be had from 
 any other single uninspired writer. There is little 
 distinctively Roman in his works ; and what little 
 there is, seems to have but little hold upon the author's 
 mind. While at the same time there is in all that he 
 writes something so gentle, so tender, so indicative of 
 a mind thoroughly saturated with the Love of Christ, 
 that we do not envy the Christian who can find his 
 writings otherwise than most attractive. When St. 
 Francis was dying, he was attended by a Bishop who 
 was one of his attached disciples, and whom he had had 
 the satisfaction of consecrating with his own hands. As 
 the Bishop leant over him, while he was in the agony 
 of death, Francis gasped out : " Bishop, God has 
 taught me a great secret, and I will tell it you, if you 
 
lY.] of Exaggerations in Religion, 339 
 
 will put your head closer." The Bishop did as be was 
 required, anxious to know what Francis considered as 
 the crowning lesson of a life of holiness. " He has 
 taught me," said the dying man, who was evidently in 
 acute suffering at the moment, "to ask nothing, and to 
 refuse nothing." 
 
 Now perhaps the first sound of such a sentiment 
 may be to some ears attractive. A sentimental pietism 
 might perhaps whisper, on hearing it, " What beautiful 
 resignation ! " But is it beautiful, according to the 
 true canon of beauty in Religion, which is conformity 
 to the Word of God, and the mind of Christ ? We 
 admit that to refuse nothing which comes from our 
 Father's hand, however much our lower will, which 
 shuns pain and suffering, may deprecate it, is the state 
 of mind to which every Christian will labour and pray 
 that he may be brought. But where has God taught 
 His people to ask nothing ? Where has He forbidden 
 them, under suffering, to cry for relief? Did Our Lord, 
 or did He not, pray, " Father, if it be possible, let this 
 cup pass from Me 1" If He did, God evidently had 
 not taught His only-begotten son to " ask for nothing." 
 And His Son's Humanity was spotless in holiness, — 
 He was clearly " void of sin, both in His flesh and in 
 His spirit." Shall we, miserable sinners, presume with 
 a frightful temerity to go further in conformity to 
 the will of God than Jesus Himself went ? Forbid it, 
 Lord ! St. Francis, with all our love for him, and all 
 our obligations to him, shall not lure us into such a 
 grievous departure from the great Exemplar. God 
 helping us, we will pour out our hearts before Him in 
 every trouble, and make known to Him our request for 
 relief, in submission always to His Will ; and having 
 preferred our request, we will leave it there in our 
 
340 Of the Mischief and Danger [part 
 
 ^Father's hands, and account that we have thenceforth 
 nothing more to do with it. But find a vent towards 
 God for our burdened heart we will, because He Him- 
 self has opened such a vent when He says : " Ye people, 
 pour out your hearts before Him." 
 
 Do you not see now how good St. Francis erred by 
 exaggeration; how in his dying sentiment he carica- 
 tured the grace of resignation ? Eesignation no doubt 
 is a heavenly and Christ-like grace; but if you will 
 push it to any and every length, regardless of other 
 precepts of God's Word, and even regardless of common 
 sense, (a very valuable aid in religion,) even resignation 
 might become absolutely mischievous. Thus in coun- 
 tries where the weather is sultry, and the people con- 
 stitutionally indolent, one might conceive a beggar 
 continuing in mendicancy, and doing nothing to raise 
 himself above it, or to improve his condition, on the 
 plea that such was the Will of God, and that men- 
 dicancy w^as the state of life to which he had been 
 called. Eesignatiori is the only precept which such an 
 one recognizes ; and he has forgotten that in another 
 corner of God's Word there is a certain maxim, less 
 chivalrous perhaps than resignation, but equally deserv- 
 ing his attention, — that '^ if any man would not work, 
 neither should he eat." This, of course, is another ex- 
 treme case. I only adduce it, because it illustrates the 
 fault which we are at present exposing and censuring. 
 
 Be it remembered, in pursuing the train of thought 
 which we have thus opened up, that in the lives of the 
 early Scriptural saints, who, next to Our Blessed Lord, 
 are our great models, nothing is so remarkable as their 
 perfect naturalness, and freedom from all affected or 
 overstrained spirituality. The great Apostle of the 
 Gentiles, whose name and fame is in all the churches, 
 
IV.] of Exaggerations in Religion. 341 
 
 immediately after a miraculous escape from shipwreck, 
 bestirs himself to gather a bundle of sticks, and puts 
 them on the fire (for St. Paul was not above feeling 
 cold and wet) ; and when writing under the afflatus of 
 the Holy Ghost, he bids Timothy bring the cloak 
 which he left at Troas with Carpus, in anticipation of 
 an approaching winter, "and the books, but especially 
 the parchments ; " for w^hat studious man — and every 
 minister of Christ must be studious, if his ministry is 
 to be effective — can bear to be vvithout his books and 
 papers ? These particulars have seemed to some too 
 frivolous for Inspiration, but they have a real purpose, 
 and subserve a real end, if they show that even. 
 Inspiration did not destroy the perfect simplicity and 
 naturalness of those who were the subjects of it. 
 Among the early disciples you would have seen nothing 
 overcharged in character or manner ; nay, you would 
 have seen little foibles, (not that these are to be 
 imitated,) of temper, of superstition, of prejudice ; — 
 you might have heard sharp words passing between 
 great Apostles, and a rupture taking place in conse- 
 quence ; you might have heard even St. Peter roundly 
 and publicly reproved for clinging to a prejudice ; and 
 you might have seen a damsel, recently engaged with 
 others in prayer, which received a miraculous answer, 
 in such a joyful trepidation of nerves when the answer 
 arrived, that she opened not the gate for gladness, but 
 ran in and told "how Peter stood before the gate." 
 Most of us would thankfully acquiesce in being as 
 saintly as the primitive Christians ; and surely it is a 
 lesson for us that there is in their sanctity so little 
 over-studied, so little walking on stilts, so little of the 
 forced unnatural attitude, into which modern books of 
 devotion sometimes try to cramp the mind. In ancient 
 
342 Of the Mischief and Danger, <&c. [paet 
 
 « 
 piety there was not a particle of asceticism or of 
 Puritanism, — which two things I mention together, 
 because they are the Roman and Protestant sides of 
 the same fault. 
 
 How, then, shall the devout man keep his mind free 
 from exaggerations both in doctrine and practice, and 
 hold in check its natural one-sidedness 1 An impartial 
 study of the lohole of Scripture is the corrective. Our 
 Church may indicate the remedy. The bulk of the 
 Old Testament is by her read through once, and the 
 bulk of the New Testament three times, in each year. 
 Those who will be at the pains to accompany her in 
 the cycle of the four daily lessons, (a larger portion of 
 Scrij^ture than is read in any schismatical community, 
 Romish or dissenting,) will thus have a fresh current 
 of Scripture always setting in through the mind, and 
 will find that this fresh current has a remarkable 
 tendency to defecate the dregs of the mind, and to 
 clear away those morbid humours which intercept its 
 vision. Adopt either this method, or some other 
 similar to it. Read with real openness of mind, quite 
 willing to renounce any such preconceived views as do 
 not square with the great Canon of Truth. Of set 
 purpose study, and give their fair weight to, those 
 doctrines, or practices, to which your mind is not 
 naturally drawn. Pray for the Bereans' nobleness of 
 mind, in that they brought even the doctrine of 
 Apostles to the test of Inspiration, and searched the 
 Scriptures daily, whether these things were so. How 
 much more, when men are not Apostles, but simply 
 possessors of the mind of Christ, must their doctrine be 
 thus searched and sifted ! Much irreverent nonsense 
 has been talked of late about a verifying faculty, but, 
 (God be praised !) we have some more certain criterion 
 
IV.] Of the great Varietij^ dc. 343 
 
 of Truth in a verifying Book. It is true that there is 
 no error whatever, which may not be bolstered up by 
 an appeal to some part of the Holy Scriptures. 
 Atheism itself, it has been well said, may be proved 
 from the Bible, by simply leaving out the words, 
 " The fool hath said in his heart." But when applied 
 impartially, without favour or prejudice, and in full 
 view of the passages on the other side. Holy Scripture 
 is a thoroughly safe and sound criterion. Do not 
 merely read it, but imbue your minds with it. Do not 
 merely quote it, (a very easy and somewhat poor at- 
 tainment,) but frame your religious sentiments upon 
 it, and then you shall bear a charmed life against error, 
 and heresy, and all manner of morbid fancies and 
 flmaticisms. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 OF THE GREAT VARIETY OP MEN'S CHARACTERS. IN THE 
 CHURCH OF CHRIST. 
 
 ^^ As the body is one, and hath many members, and all the members 
 of that one body, being many, are one body ; so also is Christ.''^— 
 1 Cor. xii. 12. 
 
 These words, and the chapter from which they are 
 taken, teach us that variety in unity is the law of the 
 Church of Christ. The spiritual gifts with which the 
 early believers were endowed were various ; some were 
 enabled to work miracles ; some to speak with tongues ; 
 some to heal the sick ; some to prophesy ; some had a 
 supernatural insight into character ; some interpreted 
 the ecstatic utterances, to which others gave vent. 
 
344 Of the great Variety of Mei\)s Characters [part 
 
 " But all these,''* says the Apostle, " vvorketh that one 
 and the self-same Spirit, dividing to every man 
 severally as he will." And it may be added that not 
 only did the gifts come from the same Author ; but 
 worked together also to the same end, the service of 
 Christ and the glory of God. This is not explicitly 
 stated by the Apostle, but is quite as strongly implied 
 in the image which he employs, as the former truth. 
 In the passage which stands at the head of this 
 Chapter, the Church is compared to the natural body 
 of man. Now, not only is the life of the body one 
 thing, in whichever of the members it operates ; but 
 also the members conspire together to one end. In 
 fetching and reaching any thing, the design is formed 
 by the brain ; the object is seen by the eye; the feet 
 are made to walk in that direction ; the hands subse- 
 quently are raised to grasp the object. Combination 
 for one purj^ose is quite as obvious in the whole pro- 
 cedure, as the interpenetration of the entire body by 
 one life. 
 
 Now, because we are prepared to expect a resem- 
 blance between two children of the same parents, and 
 between two works of the same author, we "conclude 
 that God also, in the different departments of His 
 agency, will observe a similar plan and method of 
 working. The organization of the early Church came 
 immediately from God ; and, therefore, if variety in 
 unity was the law of this organization, we should 
 expect to find variety in unity in other things also, 
 which God has organized. And if in that which is on 
 all hands admitted to be a work of God, we do find 
 variety in unity, this will be an evidence more or less 
 satisfactory to thinking minds that the Church of 
 Christ, which was originally constructed on the same 
 
rv.] in the Church of Christ. 345 
 
 principle, in which even now the same principle of con- 
 struction is discernible, is from God also. 
 
 Now, if we look into Nature, we find that the law 
 which pervades the whole of it is variety in unity .^ 
 Not only are the commonest objects by which we are 
 surrounded totally different in species, colour, shape, 
 material, — not only do they offer phenomena totally 
 different to the senses of sight, and touch, and taste, — 
 but even in the same species, and even in the same 
 individuals of the same species, the diversity seems to 
 be endless. It is said that no two leaves of the same 
 tree, though of course of the same general configura- 
 tion, ever match exactly, so as to lie flat on the table 
 one over another with a perfect correspondence of 
 edges. No two faces, even of twins, so entirely cor- 
 respond, that an eye familiar with them by constant 
 intercourse cannot in a moment detect the dissimi- 
 larity. Indeed, in Nature the variety is far more 
 apparent than the unity. Scie;ice, however, is con- 
 tinually bringing to light an unity and simplicity of 
 type in things which on the surface are most different. 
 What objects can present a greater superficial differ- 
 ence than quadrupeds and fishes, both of which 
 however, being vertebrates, are formed on the same 
 general plan 1 Nor is it merely a resemblance of what 
 may be called ground-plan, but a sameness of agency 
 which we discover in the different works of creation. 
 The same power of gravitation which ties the planets 
 to the sun, and retains them in their orbits, causes the 
 sere and shrivelled autumnal leaf or the over-ripe fruit 
 to fall to the ground. The same power of electricity 
 which rives the strong oak, or shatters the tall spire, 
 attracts light substances towards chafed sealing-wax, 
 and forms the sport of children. The same refraction 
 
346 Of the great Variety of Menh Characters [paet 
 
 of the rays of the sun produces the rainbow m the 
 heavens, and makes the tiny dewdrop under our feet to 
 twinkle with the prismatic colours. Finally we can 
 see tolerably clear indications that the various parts of 
 the Universe are working together for one end. This 
 at all events is the case as regards that part of the 
 domain of Nature with which we are immediately 
 surrounded. Very strong forces are at work in and 
 around the earth ; forces which, if allowed unlimited 
 sway, might peril the planets' existence ; but they play 
 into one another's hands, and hold one another in equi- 
 poise. The matter which is discharged from one part 
 of the system reappears in another under a new form, 
 and there serves some other function ; so that each 
 atom seems to have its vocation and its place, and to 
 fill that place, and correspond to that vocation. 
 
 Such is Nature, — an immense variety, knit together 
 in unity by sameness of plan, sameness of agency, same- 
 ness of object. And to step from the realm of Nature 
 into the realm of Grace, the Word of God presents 
 undoubtedly the same phenomenon. The Holy Scrip- 
 tures are a collection of books written under a great 
 variety of circumstances, and at a great variety of 
 times, the extreme dates between which the different 
 books range being nearly 1600 years asunder. And the 
 Scriptures are as different in kind, as they are in the dates 
 of their publication. In the short volume of the Bible 
 we have histories, biographies, lyrical poems, dramatic 
 poems (the Book of Job belongs to this class), apho- 
 risms, prophecies, rituals, letters. No two compositions 
 in the world can be more widely different in superficial 
 appearance than the Book of Psalms and the Epistle to 
 the Romans, the Prophecy of Isaiah and the Epistle to 
 Philemon, the Book of Euth and the Book of tho 
 
IV.] in the Church of Christ, 347 
 
 Revelation, the Book of Leviticus and the Gospel ac- 
 cording to St. Luke. Yet, in addition to minor fea- 
 tures of resemblance, which concern only style and 
 method of treatment, such as the thorough simplicity 
 of all the narratives, and the entire absence from them 
 all of exaggeration and rhetorical ornament, those who 
 have studied the Scriptures under the light of faith in 
 Christ Jesus, are well aware that, however dissimilar, 
 they are one organic whole, knit together by a certain 
 plan, and certain principles, which underlie the entire 
 book. The prophecy of the Seed of the woman, which 
 should bruise the serpent's head, is manifestly the 
 nucleus, the single cell (to take an image from the form- 
 ation of a flower,) round which the whole Bible has 
 formed itself, of which the whole is a development, on 
 which the whole is a commentary. The great steps 
 of the plan which runs through the Bible are very 
 easy to trace. A nation of teachers is first reared amidst 
 various fortunes, knit together by the endurance of a 
 common bondage, and impressed with marked national 
 characteristics, in order that they may present a strong 
 front to the prevailing idolatries and wickedness of the 
 world ; and in order that they may disseminate amongst 
 other people of the earth the elementary religious no- 
 tions which they had themselves imbibed from the Di- 
 vine teaching. As soon as, through God's wonderful 
 dealings with them, they had been thoroughly imbued 
 with these notions, they were dispersed among the na- 
 tions of the earth, and made to sojourn there. By their 
 instrumentality a class of men called proselytes are 
 raised up in Gentile countries, who, attracted by the 
 elements of truth which there were in the Mosaic re- 
 ligion, adopt it, and become eventually the bridge by 
 which the Gospel passes from the Jewish to the Gentile 
 
348 Of the great Variety of Meti's Characters [pari 
 
 mind. The way having been thus .prepared for Messiah 
 in the hearts of men, the long-promised Deliverer ap- 
 pears at a time of universal peace, and when the union of 
 the civilized world under one empire was favourable to 
 the spread of the tidings of salvation. What remains 
 of the Sacred Volume briefly records the rapid spread 
 of these tidings, gives certain comments upon them, 
 and predicts the complete triumph of the Messiah's 
 cause. Thus there is an uniform plan, running through 
 the whole of Scripture, and cementing together its vari- 
 ous books, inasmuch as the entire Old Testament looks 
 forward to Messiah historically, — represents the stages 
 of discipline by which the Jews, and through the Jews 
 the human race, were prepared for His appearance. 
 And we well know that it looks forward to Messiah in 
 another way, typically and prophetically, and that not 
 only all the ritual of the Jews, and all the predictions 
 of their prophets, but also most narratives of the Old 
 Testament, foreshow His appearance in a glass darkly. 
 Thus in the Bible, though its elements are so various, 
 there is a glorious harmony of design, and, as the whole 
 of it emanates from one Spirit, a harmony of agency 
 also. 
 
 If then, both in the works of God and in the Word 
 of God, we find that variety in unity is the prevail- 
 ing law, shall we not expect to find the same feature in 
 the Church of God, which, quite as much as Nature, 
 quite as much as Scripture, is His workmanship, 
 created anew " in Christ Jesus unto good works ? " 
 And this we do find. The members of the Apostolic 
 Church had various gifts, the phenomena of which 
 were different, some consisting in speaking with tongues, 
 some in healing the sick, but all the results of the 
 agency of one Spirit, and all working together for the 
 
rv.] in the Church of Christ. 349 
 
 glory of one Saviour. But it may be said that the 
 Church of modern times is not furnished with the same 
 organization as the early Church ; that extraordinary 
 and miraculous endowments have altogether ceased. 
 This is true ; but it is truer also that all these super- 
 natural gifts rested on a natural basis, had something in 
 the natural endowments of the possessor's mind cor- 
 responding to them, and serving as the nucleus of them. 
 Thus, for example, corresponding to the gift of tongues, 
 we find in some persons a great facility of acquiring 
 languages ; corresponding to the gift of prophecy, we 
 find in others a natural gift of high and fervid elo- 
 quence ; some persons even nov,r-a-days, though by no 
 means original or brilliant, have such a wonderful art of 
 imparting what they know, that we can hardly be said 
 to have lost the gift of teaching ; others are admirably 
 adapted for government, for the control of other wills 
 and the organization of philanthropic schemes ; while 
 even the gift of miracles itself, the most supernatural 
 of all, rests on the power of mind over matter, of which 
 power we have exemplifications in a natural way eve'n 
 now-a-days. 
 
 But even putting out of the question the capacities 
 and endowments of the human mind, in which we find a 
 variety as great as in the miraculous gifts, this we may 
 certainly say, that the character and moral temperament 
 of each individual Christian is different from that of his 
 neighbour. So it was of old ; and so it is still. In the 
 notices of the Apostles and other early believers, God 
 has sketched for us not only edifying pieces of biogi-aphy, 
 but prototypes of all Christians to the end of time. 
 Thus St. John represents the contemplative and stu- 
 dious disciple. No single miracle is ever recorded as 
 
350 Of the great Varietij of Menh Characters [part 
 
 having been wrought by him; and in the outward 
 spread of the Gospel, although no doubt he did his work, 
 he is not nearly so prominent a figure as St. Peter, and 
 does not for a moment reach the world-wide celebrity of 
 St. Paul. Very thoughtfui men, who live much with 
 themselves, are by no means so influential with others 
 as those who, vividly apprehending certain simple 
 topics, go forth to proclaim them without any profound 
 reflection upon them. St. Peter governs with a firm 
 hand, and with the now chastened and disciplined will, 
 which belongs to an impetuous temper ; he is the great 
 bulwark and rock of the Church, breasting its perils 
 and responsibilities gallantly, before St. Paul appears ; 
 Apollos is an eloquent declaimer who blends to the 
 best effect his knowledge of the Greek rhetoric, with 
 that higher knowledge, in respect of which he is said to 
 have been " mighty in the Scriptures ; " Barnabas sheds 
 around him, wherever he goes, the quiet healing influ- 
 ence of a man felt to be good, and full of faith ; — he 
 has a still small voice of consolation for those upon 
 whom the hand of God is heavy ; Timothy has imbibed 
 the lessons of piety with his mother's milk, and, being 
 trained up as a child in the way he should go, has not 
 departed from it as a young man ; but he is somewhat 
 timid and pliable, and exceedingly apt to Jbe moulded by 
 a superior will ; while Paul, in powers of physical and 
 mental endurance, in the expansiveness of his affections, 
 in his vivid appreciation of his own remarkable ex- 
 perience, is God's chiefest instrument for the diff'usion 
 of the glad tidings. These, if I may so express it, are 
 some of the moulds in which Christian character was 
 cast, when Christianity first appeared, and in which we 
 may expect that it will continue to be cast now-a-days. 
 
rv.] in the Church of Christ, 351 
 
 The types are strong types ; still, although modern 
 days may show somewhat feebler impressions of them, 
 they are still the same, although less marked. 
 
 Now in what has been said there is wrapped up 
 both comfort for ourselves, and a lesson of large charity 
 towards others. 
 
 1. Let us not distress ourselves, either that we were 
 not brought to God, or that we are not now serving 
 God, in the same way as some others, who seem to be 
 models of a very exemplary and exalted piety. Certain 
 preachers, and still more certain writers of religious 
 books, construct a sort of Procrustean framework, as a 
 model for all cases of real conversion, and intimate that, 
 if you cannot accommodate your own experience to that 
 stiff frame, — if you have never felt paroxysms of alarm 
 ■at the threatenings of the law, or paroxysms of ecstasy 
 at the announcements of the Gospel, — your heart is not 
 at this moment right with God. Nothing can be more 
 erroneous philosophically, or more untrue scripturally. 
 God's ways of influencing the human mind for good 
 vary infinitely, — vary first, with the original character 
 of the mind, on which the Holy Ghost has to operate ; 
 and, secondly, with the acquired shape which that 
 mind has taken from the circumstances in which it 
 has been thrown, and from its whole history and ex- 
 perience. On the same page of Scripture there is the 
 record of two most remarkable conversions, as different 
 from each other as any two processes of mind, leading 
 to the same result, can by possibility be. Lydia, the 
 purple-seller of Thyatira, became a Christian through 
 the gentle opening of the heart, as by the quiet river- 
 side she attended to the things which were spoken of 
 Paul. The Philippian gaoler is converted, on the other 
 hand, in a manner such as might be expected from the 
 
352 Of the great Variety of Men^s Characters [part 
 
 previous habits of ignorance and vice in which, we may 
 reasonably suppose, he had been sunk. He is shaken 
 with strong alarm, as if over the pit of hell, (nothing 
 else would have broken bonds so firmly riveted,) and 
 " he called for a light, and sprang in, and came trembling, 
 and fell down before Paul and Silas, and said. Sirs, what 
 must I do to be saved ? " Lydia experienced no such 
 alarm, but only a gentle opening of the heart, peaceful 
 as the undulations of the river ; yet was she none the 
 less a disciple of our Lord, and none the less dear to 
 Him. The critical, all-important question for all of us 
 is, whether we be indeed Christ's at present, and are 
 following the lead of His Spirit ; if so, how we were 
 brought to Him, whether by the quiet drawings of 
 gratitude and love, or by the gradual growth of re- 
 flectiveness, and our experience of life's hollowness, or 
 by the trepidations of alarm, is but of little moment. 
 
 And then, again, as to our method of serving Him. 
 This must depend on our capacities, our endowments, 
 the position which we providentially occupy, and the 
 oj^portunities which it gives us. It may not be a high 
 work, or a widely influential work, which we are doing 
 for God, but then it may not be a high work, or a 
 widely influential \vork, to which He has called us. 
 We may^ of course, be working beloio the measure of 
 the gift which God has distributed to us, leaving the 
 talent which our Master left with us unimproved, and 
 not putting it out to the exchangers, so that at His 
 coming He may receive His own with usury. That is 
 a point to be looked to, and carefully considered. But 
 the mere brilliancy of the position occujDied by another, 
 or the brilliancy of the gifts which qualify him for that 
 position, should never make us indulge in an unquicl 
 longing to be or to do what God has not fitted us for, 
 
IV.] ^?l the Church of Christ. 353 
 
 and which, therefore, He will never require from us. 
 If not called, and not fitted, (and the fitness is the 
 evidence of. the call,) we could not undertake such a 
 thing without a most censurable presumption. " I 
 would undertake to govern a hundred empires," said 
 Dr. Payson, " if God called me to it, but I would not 
 undertake to govern a hundred sheep, unless He called 
 me." 
 
 2. But, again, a lesson of large charity to others is to 
 be learned from what has been said. We ought, if 
 rightly minded, to rejoice in the exuberance and variety 
 of the spiritual gifts possessed by Christians, just as we 
 delight in the rich variety of Nature, or in that of the 
 Word of God. There are many lines of thought in 
 Religion, many forms which practical and personal 
 piety takes, although, of course, they are all animated 
 by the same essential principles. St. John and St. Paul 
 were both equally devoted to the cause and Person of 
 our Lord, yet no two men ever existed who manifested 
 this devotion in shapes more different. Both these 
 members .held of the Head by a living union, but they 
 discharged for the Head functions altogether different. 
 Let us not conceive of all genuine religion as moving 
 in one groove of feeling and practice, and refuse to 
 acknowledge any man as a Christian, because he does 
 not run upon our own particular groove. There are 
 several points of view from which Christianity may be 
 surveyed ; and although it be one and the same object^ 
 from whatever point we look, yet eyes placed on dif- 
 ferent levels will see it grouped in different per- 
 spectives. Our own view of it is at best but partial 
 and fragmentary ; let us rejoice in the fact that others 
 see it somewhat differently, and that their view, in- 
 stead of being contradictory to our own, is in flict the 
 
354 Of the great Variety, dc. [part 
 
 complement of it. It seems to be God's plan and 
 purpose that each individual Christian should exhibit, 
 in the peculiarity of his circumstances, education, 
 moral temperament, and mental endowments, a new 
 specimen of redeeming love and grace. By various 
 disci23line here He fits and polishes each living stone for 
 the place which it is destined to occupy in the Spiritual 
 Temple ; and when all the stones are made ready, He 
 will build them together each into its place, and exhibit 
 to men and angels their perfect unity. Aaron has 
 been bred under his paternal roof, and inured to 
 Egyptian servitude from childhood. Moses* has been 
 lapped in royal luxury from his infancy, educated at a 
 court, and then banished into a wilderness. But the 
 time came when these brothers in blood, so dissimilar 
 in training, so opposite in their experience, so different, 
 possibly, in some of the judgments which they had 
 formed of God's ways, met never to part again in this 
 life. " The Lord said unto Aaron, Go into the wilder- 
 ness to meet Moses. And he went, and met him in the 
 Mount of God, and kissed him." So shall it be with 
 all true Christians, whose history, discipline, sentiments, 
 have here taken a course which seemed far enough 
 asunder. A meeting and a greeting is reserved for all 
 of them in the mount of God, — let them " see " to it, 
 as Joseph said to his Brethren, " that they fall not out 
 by the way." 
 
ir.] Of the Idea of Sacrifice, dc, 355 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 OF THE IDEA OF SACEIFICE, AS PEPwVADING THE 
 CHRISTIANAS LIFE. 
 
 " An Jiqly priesthood^ to offer up spiritual sacrifices^ acceptable to 
 God by Jesus Chrisf'' — 1 Pet. ii. 5. 
 
 It is a rule all but universal, if we cannot say that it 
 admits of no exception, that all kno\yn forms of Religion 
 which have existed upon earth, have involved the idea 
 of sacrifice as a leading and principal feature of them. 
 The Jews, we know, practised sacrifice largely by 
 Divine appointment, — practised it in every shape 
 which the idea of sacrifice can assume. They had 
 their sin-oflTerings and their trespass-offerings for the 
 expiation of guilt, their thank-offerings in acknow- 
 ledgment of mercies received, their burnt-offerings and 
 meat-offerings for the acceptance of the worshipper, 
 their free-will offerings, for his spontaneous recognition 
 of God out of the fulness of an adoring heart. In 
 short, theirs was a sacrificial system, minute in all its 
 details, and perfect in all its parts. Among the heathen 
 nations of antiquity, we find floating shadows of these 
 various offerings, looking like portions of the Jewish 
 system disintegrated and broken up among the different 
 tribes of Gentiles. Before meals, the ancients would 
 pour out a drink-offering to one of their gods, they 
 would make a votive offering to them after any great 
 escape or deliverance, and, on occasions of public re- 
 joicing or humiliation, they would expose the images of 
 the gods on couches before tables loaded with dainties. 
 Whence came practices so universal in connexion with 
 religion 1 — a question the more pertinent, because 
 sacrifice does not on the surface approve itself to our 
 
356 ' Of the Idea of Sacrifice^ [paet 
 
 minds as a reasonable form of worship. Independently 
 of God's appointment, we cannot say with truth that 
 the slaughter of a poor animal, or the laying a basket 
 of fruit by the side of an altar, seems likely, in the 
 nature of things, to be a form of homage acceptable to 
 the Supreme Being. No doubt, the appearance of 
 sacrifice in all heathen forms of religion is to be ac- 
 counted for partly by a tradition derived from the first 
 fathers of the human race. The remembrance of Noah's 
 sacrifice after the flood would be carried away by his 
 descendants into the various countries of their dispersion, 
 and there, in lapse of time, degenerate and run wild in 
 a thousand fantastic shapes. Meanwhile the holy seed 
 from Noah to Abraham, from Abraham to Moses, and 
 from Moses onwards, would retain the true idea and the 
 true practice of sacrifice, which was a slip of God's own 
 grafting. We can scarcely, however, think that, even 
 with the help of a primeval tradition, sacrifice would so 
 long have maintained its ground among all the nations 
 of heathendom, had there not been some common sen- 
 timent or instinct of the human heart, instigating men 
 to it. And such an instinct there unquestionably is. 
 In the rudest mind which recognizes a God, there 
 exists a desire to give Him some acknowledgment, 
 which may be acceptable to Him, and a feeling that He 
 has a claim upon us for such an acknowledgment, and 
 will require it of us. Mix up this rude feeling with the 
 universal instinct of guilt, — which is to dread a superior 
 power, and to long to propitiate it, and then view the 
 practice of sacrifice as meeting this longing, and on 
 that account readily adopted ; and we shall probably 
 find here the explanation of its universal -prevalence. 
 
 It is a curious fact, as showing the hold which the 
 idea of sacrifice has upon the human mind, that 
 
IV.] as pervading the Christian's Life, 357 
 
 although all literal sacrifices were abolished or rathei 
 superseded, by Christianity, the great corruption of 
 Christianity, which, alas ! has prevailed more exten 
 sively than its purer forms, still recognizes a literal 
 sacrifice as its centre. The whole system of Roman- 
 ism revolves, if I may so say, round the sacrifice of the 
 Mass, which the priest is supposed to offer for the 
 quick and the dead. The doctrine of such a Sacrifice 
 in the Holy Communion is justly stigmatized in our 
 Thirty -firi^t Article as a " blasphemous fable, and a 
 dangerous deceit ; " — it is one of the many grievous and 
 frightful perversions of what is called the religious in- 
 stinct. We adduce it here merely as an evidence how 
 deeply rooted in men's hearts is the notion of sacrifice 
 in connexion with religion, which shows that there is 
 something in us which longs for sacrifice, and will not 
 be content without doing it in some shape or other, — in 
 an idolatrous and corrupt shape, if not in that which 
 God prescribes. 
 
 It is vain, utterly vain, to seek to rectify errors of 
 this kind by merely decrying them, or enlisting on a 
 crusade against them. Human nature is too strong for 
 us, and defies the eff"ort we make to undo or suppress 
 any part of its original constitution. Let us seek 
 rather to show in what part of pure and true religion 
 such instincts may find their satisfaction ; and then we 
 may hope to draw men off* from error effectually, be- 
 cause we shall be filling the void space in their minds 
 which at present error offers to fill. 
 
 First, then, it is obvious to remark that the Sacrifice 
 of the Life and Death of Christ (for His Life, no less 
 than His Death, was in a most important sense a 
 Sacrifice) is the very core and centre of the Christian 
 Religion. From this centre the whole system borrows 
 
358 Of the Idea of Sacrifice^ [part 
 
 light and vital heat, as the planetary system from the 
 Sun. "He hath given Himself for us," says the 
 Apostle, " an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet- 
 smelling savour," — expressing here, we apprehend, the 
 oblation of the life, thoughts, ways, and sentiments of 
 Christ, which, as being altogether holy, were infinitely 
 acceptable to a holy God. Again ; " He gave Himself 
 for our sins ; " — " He was made sin for us, who knew 
 no sin -; " — " this man after he had oflTered one sacrifice 
 for sins ; " — " He himself bare our sins in his own body 
 on the tree ; " — passages which refer to the Sacrifice of 
 Christ's Death, the only real expiatory sacrifice, which 
 has been, or can be, ever oflTered. By way of explain- 
 ing this distinction, which is of great importance, but 
 which may not be familiar to all minds, it should be 
 observed, that the offerings prescribed by the Levitical 
 Law fell into two entirely distinct classes. The one 
 class were called sweet-savour offerings, and were for 
 the acceptance of the worshipper ; the thought in 
 them was, man giving to God something which God 
 views with complacency. The second class consisted 
 of the sin and trespass offerings, and are never said 
 to be of a sweet savour; in them the thought was 
 man, as a transgressor, enduring the qurse which sin 
 has entailed. Our Blessed Lord endured this curse, 
 when, upon the Cross, He poured out His soul unto 
 death ; as it is said : " Christ hath redeemed us from 
 the curse of the Law, being made a curse for us ; for it 
 it written, Cursed is every one that hangeth on a tree." 
 But before He became our sin and trespass oflfering. He 
 had been our sweet-savour oflfering, presenting to the 
 Father a human heart all aflame, as no human heart 
 but His ever yet was, with heavenly love and zeal, a 
 life wholly devoted to the service of God and man, and 
 
IV.] as pervading the Christianas Life. 350 
 
 the only pure worship which since the days of Eden 
 had ever ascended from the Earth. (I step aside for a 
 moment to remark how utterly without foundation in 
 Scripture are all such incautious expressions as that the 
 Father viewed with complacency the Sufferings and 
 Death of His dear Son ; a totally different position from 
 the undoubtedly true one, that those Sufferings and that 
 Death were demanded by the Divine Justice. Christ 
 in dying was offering the sin-offering, lohich ivas not of 
 a sweet savour, and the idea of which was not man, as a 
 worshipper, giving to God that with which God is well 
 pleased, but man, as a sinner, bearing God's curse. 
 Justice must be had upon maleflictors ; but even 
 among men the execution of the death-sentence is 
 never viewed with complacency or satisfaction. How 
 shall it be supposed that the infinitely loving Father of 
 all finds satisfaction in the course of Justice 1 But to 
 return.) This sacrifice of the life and death of Christ 
 is the essential foundation* of every acceptable offering 
 which can be made to God ; so that we may call Christ 
 in a figurative sense the only true Altar, apart from 
 which our poor miseraljle gifts and services can find no 
 acceptance. 
 
 Observe, however, that it is the certain doctrine of 
 Scripture that God requires from Christians, — not 
 indeed a sin or trespass offering, which we could never 
 render, — but offerings of sweet savour, as a testimony 
 of their love and gratitude. I say emphatically, not a 
 sin-offering. As far as Christ's work was propitiatory, 
 it stands absolutely alone. " He offered one sacrifice 
 for sins ; " " He was once offered, to bear the sins of 
 many." But although no sufferings, no works, no 
 worship of ours can in the least degree propitiate, 
 though we are effectually precluded from joining in the 
 
360 Of the Idea of Sacrifice^ [part 
 
 expiatory part of' Christ's Sacrifice, God still requires 
 from us offerings of another character. These are 
 generally described as " spiritual sacrifices," which we 
 are ordained to offer, — " an holy priesthood, to offer up 
 spiritual sacrifices, acceptable to God by Jesus Christ.'' 
 Christ is said in the Revelation to have made Christians 
 " priests to God and his Father ; " and, if priests, it is 
 of necessity that they should have somewhat to offer. 
 More particularly, w^e are exhorted to the sacrifice of 
 oiir bodies, the thought being that the various mem- 
 bers- of the body should be yielded as instruments of 
 righteousness unto God, — the mouth to proclaim His 
 word, the eyes to gaze on His works, the hands to do 
 Him service, the feet to walk on His errands. " I 
 beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, 
 that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, 
 acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service." 
 Again. Praise is specified as a sacrifice ; — " By him 
 therefore let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God con- 
 tinually, that is, the fruit of our lips, giving thanks to 
 His Name." And as the surrender of what we have 
 will naturally follow, and be the just expression of self- 
 surrender, it is added, — " But to do good, and to com- 
 municate, forget not ; for ivith such sacrifices God is 
 well pleased!''' And the same thought appears in the 
 Epistle to the Philippians, where the sweet-savour 
 offerings are expressly referred to, and shown to be 
 competent to Christians: "I am full, having received 
 of Epaphroditus the things which were sent from you, 
 an odour of a sweet smell, a sacrifice acceptable, well- 
 pleasing to God." 
 
 It is extremely interesting to remark how, while 
 carefully stripping the second Sacrament of the false 
 plumage of an expiation, with which mediaeval super- 
 
iv.] as pervading the Christian'' s Life. 361 
 
 stition had tricked it out, our Reformers have main- 
 tained the doctrine of a threefold sacrifice in the Holy 
 Communion, or culminating act of Christian Worship, — 
 a sacrifice of alms made in the Offertory, and referred 
 to in one of the passages just quoted, — a sacrifice of 
 praise, adverted to in the words, " we entirely desire 
 Thy fatherly goodness mercifully to accept this our 
 sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving ; " and a sacrifice of 
 self referred to in a subsequent part of the same prayer, 
 — " And here we offer and present unto Thee, O Lord, 
 ourselves and souls and bodies^ to be a reasonable, holy 
 and lively sacrifice unto Thee." 
 
 Now out of the many forms in which a devout life 
 may present itself to the mind, there is none perhaps 
 more attractive than that of a constant oblation to 
 God of all that we are, all that we have, and all that 
 we do. Let the thought of Sacrifice be woven into the 
 texture of our lives, let us study to turn not our 
 prayers alone, but our whole daily course and con- 
 versation into an offering ; surely the thought that God 
 will accept it, if offered to Him_ in Union with the 
 merits of His Son, is in the greatest degree encouraging, 
 — a wonderful stimulus to exertion. Some divines so 
 cruelly strain the undoubtedly true and precious doc- 
 trine, that man can do nothing propitiatory, or intrin- 
 sically meritorious, as to leave their readers or hearers 
 under the conclusion that they can do nothing to please 
 God. Because we are not competent to a sin-offering, 
 they would have us believe, forsooth, that no sweet- 
 savour offerings are open to us. A blank prospect, 
 and very depressing to energy ; for what can be more 
 depressing than the belief which is sometimes practically 
 instilled, that by no frame of mind, or course of conduct, 
 can the believer secure the loving approbation of his 
 16 
 
362 Of the Idea of Sacrifice, ■ [part 
 
 Heavenly Father 1 — a tenet in flat opposition to those 
 words : " We beseech you, brethren, and exhort you by 
 the Lord Jesus, that as ye have received of us how ye 
 ought to walk and to please God, so ye would abound 
 more and more." 
 
 " To please God/ — ^what a privilege to lie open to 
 us day by day, and every hour of the day ! What a 
 condescension in our Heavenly Father, when we con- 
 sider the strictness of His justice, the impurity of our 
 hearts, and our many and degrading falls, to allow us to 
 please Him ! That we are suffered to bring a tribute 
 to Him, which, when laid upon the one true Altar, and 
 united with the one true Sacrifice, will be received by 
 Him with complacency and satisfaction, what a dignity 
 for sinful flesh and blood to be heir to I Now if we 
 truly appreciate this dignity, let us show that we do so, 
 by availing ourselves of the many opportunities offered 
 to us of pleasing God, by an acceptable tribute. An 
 act of self-oblation, (couched, perhaps, in the very 
 words already quoted from the Communion Service, or 
 in others equivalent,) may usefully form part of every 
 Morning's Devotion, and remind us of the great 
 thought which should run through the day. Then as 
 to our devotional exercises themselves; the thought 
 that Prayer is an incense, kindled in the censer of the 
 heart by the Holy Spirit, and most fragrant and 
 acceptable to God, if offered through the intercession 
 of Christ, and with faith in His Sacrifice, may surely 
 be a great help to us in oflfering Prayer. But it is the 
 uniform scope and tendency of Grace, as it acquires a 
 greater mastery over the will, to amalgamate the spirit 
 of devotion with our common actions, and more and 
 more to transfer Prayer into our daily employments, 
 so that these too may become a sacrifice. We need not 
 
rv.] as 2^ervading the Christian's Life, 363 
 
 go far to seek the materials of an acceptable offering ; 
 they lie all around us, in the work of our callings, in 
 the little calls which Divine Providence daily makes to 
 us, in the little crosses which God requires us to take 
 lip, nay, in our very recreations. The great point is to 
 have the mind set upon seeing and seeking in all things 
 the service of Christ and the glory of God, and, lo ! 
 every trifling incident v/hich that mind touches, every 
 piece of work which it handles, every dispensation to 
 which it submits, becomes at once a sacrifice. 
 
 " If in our daily course our mind 
 Be set to hallow all we find, 
 New treasures still of countless price, 
 God will provide for sacrifice. 
 We need not bid, for cloister'd cell, 
 Our neighbour and our work farewell, 
 Nor strive to wind ourselves too high 
 For sinful man beneath the sky ; 
 The trivial round, the common task 
 Would furnish all we ought to ask, 
 Room to deny ourselves — a road 
 To bring us daily nearer God." 
 
 If we allow the beauties of Nature to raise our heart 
 to God, we turn them into a sacrifice. If cross inci- 
 dents, which could not be avoided or averted, are taken 
 sweetly and lovingly, out of homage to the loving will 
 of God, this too is a sacrifice. If work be done in the 
 full view of God's assignment of our several tasks and 
 spheres of labour, and under the consciousness of His 
 Presence, however secular in its character, it imme- 
 diately becomes fit for presentation on the Altar. If 
 refreshments and amusements are so moderated, as to 
 help the spirit instead of dissipating it, if they are 
 seasoned with the wholesome salt of self-denial, (for 
 every sacrifice must be seasoned with salt,) they, too, 
 
364 Of the Idea of Sacrifice, (&c, [pakt 
 
 become an holy oblation. If we study even perverse 
 characters, with a loving hope and belief that we shall 
 find something of God and of Christ in them, which 
 may be made the nucleus of better things, and, instead 
 of shutting ourselves up in a narrow sphere of sym- 
 pathy, seek out, and try to develope, the good points 
 of a generally uncongenial spirit ; if we treat men as 
 Christ treated them, accounting that somewhere in 
 every one there is a better mind, and a trace of God*s 
 finger in Creation, we may thus possibly sanctify an hour 
 which else would be one of irksome constraint, and after 
 which we might have been oppressed with the heavy 
 feeling that it had been a wasted one. If a small trifle, 
 destined to purchase some personal luxury or comfort, 
 be diverted to a charitable and religious end, this is the 
 regular and standing sacrifice of alms, recognized by 
 Scripture and the Liturgy. And, finally, if we regard 
 our Time as, next to Christ and the Holy Spirit, the 
 most precious gift of God ; if we gather up the frag- 
 ments and interstices of it in a thrifty and religious 
 manner, and employ them in some exercise of devotion, 
 or some good and useful work, this too becomes a 
 tribute which God will surely accept with complacency, 
 if laid upon His Altar, and united by faith and a 
 devout intention with the one Sacrifice of our dear 
 Lord. 
 
 Yes ; if laid upon His Altar : let us never forget or 
 drop out of sight that proviso. It is the Altar, and the 
 Altar alone, which sanctifieth the gift. Apart from 
 Christ and His perfect Sacrifice, an acceptable gift is 
 an impossibility for man. For at best our gifts have in 
 them the sinfulness of our nature ; they are miserably 
 flawed by defectiveness of motive, duplicity of aim, in- 
 firmity of will. " The prayers of all saints," what 
 
IV.] Of allowing in our Minds ^ d'c. 365 
 
 force of impetration must they have with God, if, as we 
 are assured," the effectual fervent prayer of a" (single) 
 '* righteous man availeth much ! " Yet when St. John 
 saw in a vision " the prayers of all saints" offered by 
 an angel " upon the golden altar which was before the 
 throne," it was in union with that which alone can per- 
 fume the tainted offerings of even regenerate man ; 
 " There was given unto him much incense, that he should 
 offer it ivith the prayers of all saints upon the golden 
 altar which was before the throne." 
 
 The incense is the Intercession of Jesus. Place 
 your offering, — be it prayer, or almsdeed, or work, or 
 submission, — in His hands for presentation ; pray Him, 
 as your only Priest, to transact for you with God, and 
 He will do so. And the sun of God's favour shall 
 shine out upon that offering, and the dew of His bless- 
 ing shall descend upon it, and you shall be gladdened 
 with your Father's smile. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 OF ALLOWING IN OUR MINDS A PREPONDERANCE TO 
 TRIFLES. 
 
 " Woe unto i/ou, Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites ! for ye pay tithe 
 of mint and anise and cummin^ and have omitted the weight- 
 ier matters of the laiOj judgment^ mercy, and faith : these 
 ought ye to have done, and not to leave the other undone.'''' — 
 Matt, xxiii. 23. 
 
 In the course of our thoughts on Personal Religion, 
 attention to what may be called little duties, if not 
 
360 Of allowing in our Minds [part 
 
 always urged explicitly, has been the under-current of 
 our thoughts throughout. Our regular daily life is not 
 marked by noticeable incidents or great crises ; the 
 fluctuations of interest in it are homely and trivial. 
 It is of this average common-place life that we have 
 been endeavouring to show how it furnishes all the 
 materials, out of which, under God's Grace, sanctity 
 may be wrought ; and it is therefore quite in accord- 
 ance with the genius of our subject to consider little 
 duties, little sins, little trials, little self-denials, little 
 cares. For of these little things ordinary life is made 
 up ; the trials of our normal state are merely annoy- 
 ances, not serious trials ; its sins are failures of temper, 
 or of the tongue, or omissions of devotion ; its duties 
 are often little details of business, or little acts of kind- 
 ness, or a routine of correspondence almost mechanically 
 performed ; its pleasures, when the first freshness of 
 youth has worn off, are a smile, or an old association, 
 or a quiet evening at home, or a genial meeting with a 
 genial friend; its cares and responsibilities, though 
 they may press pretty heavily upon ourselves, are such 
 as a prime minister or a grand vizier would think 
 beneath contempt. If Christian principle is to be 
 shown at all by the majority of men, it must be shown 
 in a common-place sphere of this sort ; and it is exactly 
 by showing it on these common-place occasions that we 
 shall, under God's blessing, and by His grace, brace 
 ourselves for the heavier trials and more arduous 
 responsibilities, which He may see fit at any moment 
 to lay upon any one of us. What a dignity does it 
 give to our daily life to remember that by consistent 
 quiet maintenance of Christian principle on these 
 trivial occasions, we may lay in a stock of oil, in other 
 words, nurse, and cherish, and educate a faith and 
 
rv.] a Preponderance to Trifles, 367 
 
 love, which shall burn brightly in the hour of real 
 trial ! Whereas he who despises these small occasions, 
 and waits for a grand opportunity to exhibit Christian 
 principle, as one waits for a gala night to let off a blazo 
 of fireworks, is certain to break down when the stress 
 of trial arrives. And it is because we think, as I have 
 before expressed, that the pulpit too little addresses 
 itself to small duties and homely trials ; that it soars 
 too exclusively among doctrines and the principles of 
 conduct ; that it speaks too exclusively the language of 
 Tragedy, and too little that of common life, that we 
 have been anxious to press home upon our readers, in 
 this little treatise, the cultivation of Personal Religion 
 in that sphere which lies imm;;diately under their hands. 
 And now, in sounding this note for the last time, we 
 still feel how deeply important it is that it should be 
 made to vibrate long and loud in the memory of the 
 reader ; how it is almost impossible that we can attach 
 too much importance to such particulars of duty as im- 
 provement of time, control of temper, watchfulness in 
 conversation, restraint of appetite, even on occasions 
 where it njight innocently be indulged, and gentle bear- 
 ing of disappointments. 
 
 And we may say with truth that duties even lower 
 m the scale than these, duties not moral at all, or not 
 moral in their primary aspect, have yet their impor- 
 tance, and, according to our Lord's admonition in the 
 text, must not be left undone. It is the last touches 
 of the pencil, — the fine finishing strokes, — which give 
 to a drawing its completeness. And the Christian, 
 remembering his Lord's words, that " whosoever shall 
 break one of these least commandments and teach men 
 so, the same shall be called least in the Kingdom of 
 Heaven," will labour to give to his obedience this 
 
368 Of allowing iji our Minds [pakt 
 
 finish and completeness by not neglecting even the 
 finer traits of duty. He will eschew, for example, in 
 every thing that pertains to God, the smallest approach 
 to slovenliness. Slovenliness is irreverence in little 
 things ; and not the smallest approach to irreverence 
 will the Christian tolerate. Thus, for instance, he will 
 pay attention to postures in prayer, whether private, or 
 public. If Daniel kneeled upon his knees in his cham- 
 ber three times a day and prayed ; if St. Paul and the 
 Tyrian Christians kneeled down on the shore to pray ; 
 if our Blessed Lord kneeled when offering prayer in 
 the garden ; the Christian will feel that neither in his 
 closet nor in the house of God is he at liberty to adopt 
 any attitude, which betokens indolence, carelessness, 
 or levity. And of another kindred point he will be 
 observant, — a point trifling in itself, and yet having 
 far more influence upon the general heartiness and 
 effect of Public Worship than many a one which is 
 intrinsically more important. In the service of the 
 House of God he will join audibly in the prescribed 
 responses, not contented without expressing aloud his 
 assent to what is there proceeding. It is one charac- 
 teristic glory of the Church of England, distinguishing 
 her alike from Roman and schismatical communions, 
 that the public prayers which she prescribes are 
 really common prayers, in which the people no less 
 than the minister have a share as well as an interest, — 
 so that the sacerdotal character of all Christians is re- 
 cognized by our Liturgy, inasmuch as all are directed 
 on occasions to join in it. Every right-minded Church- 
 man will love by his practice to bring out this feature 
 of our Prayer Book, and will feel that in doing so he is 
 not merely complying with an ecclesiastical rule, but 
 also doing something to kindle fervour of spirit in others 
 
IV.] a Preponderance to Trifles, 369 
 
 by expressing the fervour of his own spirit. Be it re^ 
 membered of all these lesser duties, that negligence of 
 them is, to say the least, an extremely bad augury of 
 fidelity in higher things ; for he who is careless about 
 the little items of obedience is usually reckless also 
 about its large sums ; and our Master spoke with His 
 usual profound insight into human character, when He 
 said : " He that is faithful in that which is least, is faith- 
 ful also in much ; and he that is unjust in the least, is 
 mijust also in much." 
 
 It is however quite possible that, through the morbid 
 action of the human mind, which seems to corrupt and 
 deprave every good principle which it touches, respect- 
 ful attention to little things may degenerate into a punc- 
 tiliousness and a wretched scrupulosity which shall drain 
 off the energies of the soul from the larger and more 
 spiritual duties of religion. 
 
 This was the case of the Pharisees. While they 
 paid tithe with unfailing accuracy of their smallest 
 garden herbs, they did not seek judgment, or relieve 
 the oppressed, — their sentences were unrighteous, their 
 practices extortionate, and their hearts insensible to 
 the sufferings of others. Men bring with them into 
 religion their natural character; and in natural cha- 
 racter, as in religious, you will find two extremes in 
 regard to little things, — that of those who pay too 
 little attention to them, and that of those who allow 
 their minds to be wholly taken up with them. On the 
 one hand, we have the old proverb already adverted to, 
 warning those, who are careless of small items, that 
 they may sacrifice thereby large sums ; and there are 
 notoriously men who need the warning, — who are 
 quite heedless of small expenditures, and care only for 
 considerable amounts. On the other hand there is to 
 16* 
 
370 Of allowing in our Minds [part 
 
 be seen every day this very common phenomenon, 
 persons of wealth, who will stickle and haggle at every 
 little expense incidental to daily life, and yet be com- 
 paratively careless about money when it is to be given 
 on a large scale ; miserly in small things, and spend- 
 thrifts in great ; their whole care about property being 
 apparently that it shall not go off in drops and driblets, 
 though for the great drains upon it they are not solici- 
 tous. These opposite habits of nind are imported into 
 religion. Some men's religion is all general, and, if 
 I may say so, panoramic ; they love large views of 
 doctrine, broad principles of duty ; like to have a dis- 
 tant spectacle of religion opened to them from the 
 pulpit, but do not much relish admonitions on the mi- 
 nute and humble duties of daily life. Such are not, and 
 cannot be, growing Christians ; life is made up of par- 
 ticulars ; and with the particulars these men will not 
 condescend to deal. Some, on the other hand, are punc- 
 tilious about little things, and forgetful of the great 
 spirit of the law. It seems as if the account to be given 
 of vsuch characters was as follows ; — that we have all 
 only a certain amount of conscientiousness, and that, 
 if this be all expended upon the more ceremonial and 
 formal duties of religion, we have none left for its great 
 moral claims. Let us glance at one or two of the 
 forms in which this Pharisaic habit of mind, so strongly 
 reprobated by our Blessed Redeemer, shows itself now- 
 a-days. 
 
 1. The late revival of a stricter and better discipline 
 in the Church, and of a more reverent feeling towards 
 ecclesiastical antiquity and the arrangements of our own 
 Book of Common Prayer, though a thing to be very 
 thankful for in the main, has given rise to a crop of 
 petty discussions on points purely ritual or antiquarian, 
 
IV.] a Preponderance to Trifles. 371 
 
 which may easily draw off the mind from subjects of 
 graver import, and with many have actually that effect. 
 We have not any of us too much religious zeal ; it is a 
 great pity to spend any of it on such questions as the 
 make of a robe, the shape of a chalice, and whether one 
 or two collects should be said in a case of a concur- 
 rence of Festivals. Generally speaking, such points 
 are hardly worth the energy spent in the discussion of 
 them. If indeed they are regarded simply as questions 
 of antiquarianism or good taste, let them be left to 
 antiquarians, and men of virtu. And if it can be 
 clearly made out that there is a right and wrong, or even 
 a tasteful and untasteful in such matters, let us adopt 
 in Public Worship the right and the tasteful and eschew 
 the wrong and untasteful ; but let not such matters, 
 under the insidious pretence of being matters of Re- 
 ligion, occupy any space whatever in our minds. In 
 matters of Religion we want all our available space 
 for the dear Lord who has bought us with His Blood, 
 and really cannot afford any lodging for rubrics, liow- 
 ever ancient, or ornaments, however decorous. Let our 
 Churches be all fitted up in a style suitable to the 
 wealth of the district in which they stand ; and, as far 
 as possible, to the majesty of Him, whose House of 
 Prayer they are ; but, that being done, let us think 
 no more about the building, but turn our whole atten- 
 tion to the living stones, ourselves amongst the 
 rest, who congregate in it. Those living stones will 
 outlast the fires of the Judgment Day. Not so 
 the pomp of our architecture, the marble shaft, the por- 
 phyry column, the chiselled capital. On all these is 
 written the inexorable sentence of God's Word, " The 
 Earth also, and the works that are therein, shall be 
 burned up." 
 
372 Of allowing in our Minds [pakt 
 
 2. Persons of a very different order of mind from 
 those described above often are, in their way, as great 
 sticklers for formalities. There is no such mistake as 
 to suppose that those who inveigh against forms are 
 themselves free from the power of them. The Quakers, 
 who discard the sacred Forms of Jesus Christ's ap- 
 pointment, are themselves the most formal of man- 
 kind in their dress and in their language. None of us 
 are free from the influence of forms, nor can we be so ; 
 our only care should be to see that we allow not our 
 own favourite forms to degenerate into formality, 
 which they will begin to do as soon as ever our minds 
 are overmuch occupied with them. Catalogues of 
 forbidden amusements, or precise rules as to the 
 method of spending Sunday, are to some people what 
 rubrics and church ornaments are to others ; that is, 
 they are the mint, anise, and cummin, which take up 
 in the mind the space due to the weightier matters of 
 the law. With the best intentions, (and good inten- 
 tions are always worthy of respect,) they lay down 
 certain regulations as safeguards, in their own case, 
 against the sins of dissipation, gossip, vanity, display, 
 and artificial excitements of feeling : — restrictions 
 most excellent and helpful, if regarded in their true 
 light as forms which are only valuable for the spirit 
 which they enshrine, and, like all forms, capable of 
 modification, adjustment, or even repeal, as circum- 
 stances shall dictate. Too often, however, it seems to 
 be assumed that so long as the form is secured the 
 spirit is certainly safe, a fallacy than which there can 
 be none more patent. Because a man has said his 
 prayers, it by no means follows that he has prayed. 
 And on similar principles, because a man has conscien- 
 tiously avoided some public place of entertainment, and 
 
iv.l a Preponderance to Trijies, 373 
 
 confined himself to the society of what is called a few 
 religious friends, it does not follow that he has escaped 
 the snare of dissipation in that society, still less that 
 the few religious friends have bridled their tongues and 
 avoided all tattle, unreal profession, and censoriousness. 
 You may sin by rash judgment at a tea-table as freely 
 as in the gayest and most brilliant circle which can be 
 gathered in a rich metropolis ; and it may be a 
 question whether there is more of artificial stimulant to 
 the feelings in a theatre than in a certain class of 
 novels. We are apt to smile at Romanists on fast- 
 day, when, observing an abstinence from flesh, they 
 are ready to gratify the appetite with every other 
 viand, however delicate and dainty ; but are we not 
 ourselves guilty of exactly the same absurdity, when- 
 ever we maintain the letter of a restriction, while we 
 allow its spirit to evaporate % Are our Sundays 
 well spent, merely because they are quietly spent, — 
 because we have given as little trouble as possible on 
 that day (a most just and admirable rule) to our 
 dependents, and have confined our reading and that of 
 our children to sacred books % Alas ! these restrictions 
 are excellent ; but even they Avill not infalliVjly secure 
 the right observance of the Lord's Day. Has the day 
 been a delight to us, — a real refreshment of the inner 
 man? Or have its sacred hours brought with them a 
 sense of monotony and dulness, which has led us 
 virtually to say tO ourselves, if we have not ventured 
 to put the thought in express words, — " When will the 
 Sabbath be gone % " If so, despite of all outward 
 formalities, must there not have been something wrong 
 somewhere ? 
 
 It has been our part in the foregoing pages to 
 suggest to the reader several practices of devotion 
 
374 Of allowing in our Minds, <&c. [part 
 
 and several rules of life, which, under God's Blessings 
 and if used with discretion, may be serviceable to him. 
 And we cannot more appropriately close them than by 
 reminding him that even rules of holy living may be a 
 snare, and prove burdensome and entangling rather 
 than helpful, if, in admmistering them to ourselves, we 
 do not continually keep our eye fixed on the spirit and 
 principle of them. "The end of the commandment is 
 Love," a growing and ever deepening recognition of 
 God as our tender Father through Christ, and of men 
 as our brethren. To establish this filial and fraternal 
 relation, the Lord Jesus came into the world ; and to 
 maintain, and extend, and consolidate it. His Spirit is 
 now abroad in the hearts of His people. So far as 
 rules of holy living help to form in our minds this 
 view of God and our neighbour, they are estimable 
 and precious ; so far as they neither help nor hinder it, 
 they are useless ; so far as they obscure and perplex it, 
 they are positively mischievous. Let our whole 
 question in Religion be, how we can most grow in 
 the love of Christ and of our neighbour, and in the 
 perception (closely associated with this love) of the 
 importance and value of the human soul. Let us 
 measure that soul by its true gauge, by its likeness 
 to God, in respect of intrinsic worth ; by Eternity, in 
 respect of its duration ; and by the Blood of Christ, in 
 respect of the price which has been paid for it ; and we 
 shall then have no mind for toys and trifles in religion. 
 If we view a painted scene from too near a point, 
 the objects represented are massed together inco- 
 herently with one another, and the eye confounds 
 the distance with the foreground. But retire to the 
 proper point of view, and all things fall into their 
 places ; the distance drops back and seems to lie 
 
rVi] Of Improving our Talents, 375 
 
 beyond the figures, instead of towering over their 
 head. So if, in our survey of Religion, we forget the 
 two cardinal relations of man, which are its principal 
 features, we shall lose the perspective of the picture 
 altogether, and may mistake a remote point for an 
 object in the foreground. But let us, as it were, fall 
 back ever and anon, and view Religion under those 
 grand relations. God, Christ, and the human soul will 
 then appear as the very front and centre of our con- 
 templations ; and every other object will be scanned in 
 the relative proportions which it bears to these three 
 chief actors on the scene. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 OF IMPEOYING CUE TALENTS. 
 
 " For the kingdom of heaven is as a man travelling into a far 
 country^ who called his own servants, and delivered unto them his 
 goods. And unto one he gave five talents, to another two, and to 
 another one : to every man according to his several ability : and 
 straightway took his journey. 
 
 " When he which had received the one talent came and said, Lord, 1 
 knew thee that thou art an hard man, reaping where thou hast 
 not sown, and gathering where thou hast not strawed : and I was 
 afraid, and we7it and hid thy talent in the earth : lo, there thou 
 hast that is thine. His lord answered and said unto him. Thou 
 wicked and slothful servant, thoxi knewest thai I reaped where 1 
 sowed not, and gather where I have not strawed : thou oiightest 
 therefore to have put my money to the exchangers, and then at my 
 coming I shoidd have received mine own with usury.'''' — Matt. xxv. 
 14, 15—24, 25, 26, 27. 
 
 Two parables lie side by side in Matt. xxv. which are 
 the counterpoise of one another. The false deductions, 
 
376 Of Improving our Talents. [pabt 
 
 which, by the perversity of the human mind, might be 
 drawn from either of them, are corrected by the other. 
 The parable of the Virgins, which we shall presently 
 consider, teaches the necessity of a hidden and interior 
 life, (the oil being concealed in the lamp,) and that no 
 amount of outward activity in the service of God, — no 
 display of gifts, however brilliant, no profession, how- 
 ever strict and high, will, without such an interior life, 
 last out for the required period. Shall the Christian, 
 then, it might be asked, live in and for himself, commu- 
 ning with God in his own heart, and allowing the outer 
 world to go its own way and take care of itself, as if 
 there were nothing real but his own consciousness? 
 Such is the principle of the monastic life ; and it is a 
 false principle. It ignores the existence of a neighbour, 
 to whom, as well as to God, we have duties ; and it 
 ignores the gift, by which God qualifies us for outward 
 service towards his cause in the world. To correct such 
 misapprehensions, the Parable of the Talents follows 
 close upon that of the Virgins, and supplies one of the 
 many instances with which the Gospels abound, of the 
 perfectness of our Saviour's discourses. It is as if He 
 had said : " T have told you that you must not lose 
 yourselves in the activities of Religion ; but now I tell 
 you, with equal emphasis, that those activities must not 
 be suffered to collapse. Without secret Prayer, you 
 can do nothing ; but you must not shut yourself up 
 from Service, under the pretext of giving yourself 
 wholly to secret Prayer." 
 
 The great point and warning of this Parable lies in 
 the history of the slothful servant ; and it is his 
 character, therefore, which we will strive to bring 
 before ourselves as a living reality. Let us ask what 
 sort of person Our Lord in the first instance con- 
 
IV.] Of Improving our Talents. ST"? 
 
 templatcd ; and then we shall gain a clearer view how 
 the Parable may be applied to our own circumstances. 
 It is quite possible that, even now-a-days, a man 
 whom God's Providence had really called to the 
 ministry of the Church, and more or less qualified for 
 it, might shrink from undertaking the arduous re- 
 sponsibilities attaching to such an office. The thought 
 of the account which must be rendered by the pastor 
 of the souls for which he watches, might terrify him ; 
 and natural indolence might conspire, as it often does, 
 with pusillanimous fear, to make him decline a life 
 which, to a conscientious Christian, can, less than any 
 other in the world, be a sinecure. A man in this 
 state of mind would be very likely to magnify, or 
 rather to aggravate unduly, the obligations laid upon 
 him, and to represent God to himself as a hard task- 
 master, requiring from us more than He gives us 
 strength to fulfil. But in the Early Church, when 
 persons viewed the work of the ministry less as a 
 profession, and more as a very responsible and ex- 
 tremely arduous calling, the case which I have sup- 
 posed to occur in modern times was of constant 
 occurrence. It was no unfrequent thing for men, who, 
 by the general suffrage of the congregation, were 
 pronounced to be admirably qualified for the govern- 
 ment of the Church and the Episcopal Office, to run 
 away and hide themselves, when it was proposed to 
 confer it upon them. Discovered in their hiding- 
 place, they were dragged out, and consecrated by 
 constraint, — made to serve God and their neighbour in 
 the onerous and honourable position of a Bishop 
 against their wills. Was any such grudgingly-ren- 
 dered service in the thoughts of St. Peter when he 
 wrote : " Feed the flock of God which is among you, 
 
378 Of Improving our Talents. [pakt 
 
 taking the oversight thereof, not by constraint, but 
 willingly ; not for filthy lucre, but of a ready mind 1 " 
 At all events it is in the highest degree probable, if not 
 certain, that such reluctance was often manifested in 
 the Apostolic age, when the emoluments and dignities 
 of the Pastoral Office were little or none, and when it 
 did little else for the holders of it, than set them up on 
 high as a mark for the arrows of persecution. Under 
 such circumstances as those, one can quite understand 
 that a slothful servant of the Lord would be disposed 
 to hide his talent in a napkin, and to use with his 
 own conscience every ingenious and plausible argument, 
 which might seem to excuse such a course. And one 
 argument, which would readily suggest itself, would be, 
 that he was, after all, meanly endowed for tho service 
 of the Ministry ; and that but one talent — " is it not," 
 he would think, " a little one ? " — had fallen to his 
 share. 
 
 And here, perhaps, some explanation may be fitly 
 introduced of a clause in our Parable, which causes at 
 first a little difficulty to a thoughtful reader. In dis- 
 tributing the talents, the master is said to have given 
 " to every man according to his ability.''^ We are to 
 understand from this, probably, that the spiritual gifts 
 of the early Church, of which, primarily, Our Lord is 
 speaking, were distributed with a certain reference to 
 what we should call the natural capacity of the holders, 
 — that natural capacity, however, being itself from God. 
 In the foremost Apostles, who had the greatest spi- 
 ritual gifts, — in Peter, in Paul, in John, — there were 
 remarkable attributes of natural character, which pre- 
 sented a nucleus, if I may use the expression, for those 
 gifts. They were all men of strong and well-defined 
 character, and would no doubt have been men of mark 
 
IV.] Of Improving our Talents. 379 
 
 any where, independently of their vocation to the 
 Apostleship. That strength of character constituted 
 their ability ; and their gifts were the talents dealt out 
 to them "according to their ability." — St. Paul was a 
 wonderfully endowed man, even in respect of natural 
 qualifications and circumstances. If any member of the 
 Christian Churcb ever had great ability, it was he. He 
 had a heart comprehensive enough to embrace mankind, 
 and yet full of an ardent patriotism. His affections 
 were diffusive ; and yet we find them concentrated with 
 great pathos upon his Corinthian and Philippian con- 
 verts, upon Timotheus, his own son in the faith, upon 
 Onesimus, whom he had begotten in his bonds. He 
 was as hard as adamant to all the toils and persecutions 
 of the Apostleship, " ready, not to be bound only, but 
 also to die for the name of the Lord Jesus ; " and yet 
 he was full of sensibility to others, and a man of many 
 tears. As regards intellectual endowments, he was a 
 most acute reasoner ; and though the fervour of his 
 beautiful spirit, which always kindled with his great 
 theme, sometimes is allowed to interrupt the thread of 
 his argument, it is speedily resumed, and prosecuted to 
 its just conclusion. He had been highly educated, and 
 was familiar with the learning and poetry of the 
 Gentiles, as Moses with the wisdom of the Egyptians. 
 In oratory he had that happy gift, which enabled him 
 to take his audience on their own ground,to accommodate 
 himself to their sympathies, and to make their very 
 prejudices the basis of his appeal to them. And as the 
 crown of all his endowments, he had that courtesy and 
 grace of manner, and that fineness of tact, which is 
 partly native in some characters, but partly the result 
 of good breeding, and a generous and wise discipline in 
 youth. And yet this courtesy was not in the least 
 
380 Of Improving our Talents. [pAEt 
 
 degree alloyed with affectation, and consisted with the 
 utmost plainness of speech towards pretenders and 
 hypocrites. In these features of moral and intellectual 
 character stood the ability of St. Paul — itself, be it 
 remarked, like all natural ability, the gift of Almighty 
 God. And in proportion to this ability he was richly 
 dowered with spiritual gifts, and held ten talents of the 
 Master, and made them ten talents more. His Co- 
 rinthian converts were very proud of their gift of 
 speaking with tongues ; " but," says St. Paul, " I thank 
 my God / speak ivith tongues more than you alir He 
 cast out a spirit of Python from a poor crazed girl, the 
 slave and tool of mercenary masters. He shook off 
 from his hand a venomous serpent which had fastened 
 there, and felt no harm. Inspired with a sudden 
 memory of a similar act done by the prophet Elijah, he 
 embraced a corpse ; and the corpse, under his embrace, 
 became warm with life. He struck a sorcerer with 
 blindness. He restored instantaneously to the use of 
 his limbs one who had been a cripple from his mother's 
 womb. Nay, even a handkerchief, which had touched his 
 person, chased away diseases and evil spirits from those 
 who laboured under them at Ephesus. He prophesied 
 with such eflfect that profligates, like Felix, trembled, 
 and could not endure it ; and pious women, like Lydia, 
 seemed to find in his words the dawn of a new light, 
 and the inspirations of a new life. He was familiar 
 with sacred ecstacy ; and was caught up into the third 
 heaven^ where he heard unspeakable words, which it is 
 not lawful for a man to utter. And, finally, " he being 
 dead yet speaketh." He wrote, under Inspiration, with 
 such power, that his writings have been from the 
 earliest days the cordial of every believer's heart, and in 
 the sixteenth century became the alarum, which awoke 
 
r\''.] Of Improving our Talents. 381 
 
 the Church out of the lethargy of mediaeval formalism 
 and superstition. And still, wherever the New Tes- 
 tament is read, his perhaps is the strongest influence 
 which emanates from the Holy Book. Such were 
 the ten talents entrusted to the great Apostle " ac- 
 cording to his ability." — By his side was another 
 Apostle, endowed much less wonderfully, — having per- 
 chance only one talent entrusted to him ; — but equally 
 dear, and equally faithful to their common Lord. 
 St. Barnabas was termed by his colleagues a son of 
 Consolation. He was qualified, doubtless, by natural 
 ability to console. He was deeply attached to his 
 relations ; — a soft and amiable trait of character, which 
 sometimes, however, as it probably did in his case, 
 indisposes us to listen to the stern voice of principle. 
 He loved to promote unity between those who had a 
 common object at heart ; and he appears, accordingly, 
 as the peacemaker between Paul and the original 
 Apostles, who at first, from his antecedents, felt for him 
 some amount of estrangement. He was a retiring man ; 
 and liked to put others forward, and see them filling the 
 post for which God had qualified them. It is a gentle, 
 unobtrusive character, such as this, which has a capacity 
 for comforting; and according to Barnabas' capacity, 
 so was his gift. None can really and spiritually comfort 
 others, however naturally qualified for it, except by the 
 gift of the Comforter. Then, 
 
 " Warm'd underneath the Comforter's safe wing, 
 They spread th' endearing warmth around: 
 
 Mourners, speed here your broken hearts to bring, 
 Here healing dews and balms abound : 
 
 Here are soft hands that cannot bless in vain, 
 By trial taught your pain : 
 
 Here loving hearts, that daily know 
 
 The heavenly consolation they on you bestow." 
 
382 Of Improving our Talents. [pakt 
 
 The Spirit, then, with which Barnabas was endowed 
 became in him, according to his ability, a spirit of con- 
 solation. It might seem to some as if this were but a 
 humble gift : — only one talent out of the many, where- 
 with the chiefest Apostles were endowed. Suppose 
 Barnabas himself had thought so, and reasoned thus : 
 " I am not myself alone fit for any great enterprise ; on 
 such an enterprise I can be only second : all I am 
 suited for is to whisper a word of encouragement to 
 better men, when their hearts are failing, and to raise 
 the drooping spirit of a Christian brother. My gift, if 
 gift it can be called, is a quiet one, and will never make 
 any stir in the world." And suppose that, reasoning 
 thus, Barnabas had resolved to make no use of his 
 talent, because it was a little one, — to decline all 
 apostolic journeys and enterprises, on the plea that he 
 could be but of little use, and that the responsibilities 
 of an Apostle made his heart quake with apprehension ; 
 — his would then have been exactly the case of the 
 wicked and slothful servant in the Parable, who hid his 
 talent in the earth, instead of putting it out to the ex 
 changers, because he falsely reckoned that his lord was 
 a hard taskmaster, who would exact a return for which 
 he had never furnished his servants. 
 
 What has been said paves the way for the appli- 
 cation of the parable to our own circumstances. 
 
 The counterpart of the wicked and slothful servant is 
 to be sought among persons slenderly, not brilliantly, 
 endowed. It is comparatively seldom that you find a 
 man of splendid gifts, and remarkable powers of influ- 
 ence, not displaying such gifts, or putting forth such 
 powers ; for vanity is a strong motive force in the 
 human heart, and generally urges a man to put out what 
 there is in him, if he can at all gain credit thereby. 
 
ly.] Of Improving our Talents. 383 
 
 Whence it comes to pass that those men who stand much 
 above the heads of the crowd are generally not charge- 
 able with indolence, however serious may be their other 
 faults. But when we are entirely on a level with the 
 crowd in point of endowments, then the temptations 
 to bury our talent in the earth arise in their full force. 
 And this must always be the case of the many. The 
 majority of men, (at least in countries where civiliza- 
 tion has long prevailed, and the system of Society has 
 long been running in a regular groove,) will always be 
 mediocre, — mediocre in intelligence, in information, in 
 position, in fortune, in strength of character, in short, 
 in all those points which qualify us for usefulness to 
 others. And the consciousness that they are so, will 
 always be a plea with such persons for being nothing 
 and doing nothing, for hanging about indolently upon 
 life, without any special aim, and therefore without any 
 special energy. There are many elements of feeling 
 which lead to this result. Vanity here, as elsewhere, is 
 on the alert ; if we cannot be in the foremost rank, we 
 will be nothing. Indolence is the next trait; a very 
 subtle sin, as well as an extensively prevalent one, hid- 
 ing itself often under the garb of modesty, and some- 
 times under the still more specious garb of love for a 
 devout, studious, and contemplative life. Then, also, 
 there is a cowardly shrinking from being pushed to 
 greater lengths in Religion than we are prepared to go ; 
 a dread that, if we once put ourselves by our own act 
 into the harness of responsibility, we shall be driven 
 to a greater distance than we bargained for. Then, last, 
 comes the wickedness which, together with the indo- 
 lence, the master in the Parable stigmatizes, — the un- 
 grateful, unfilial, impious aspersion of God, as one who 
 requires from us more than He furnishes us for. And 
 
384 Of Improving our Talents. [part 
 
 so it comes to pass that we have a vast number of pro- 
 fessing Christians, church-goers and communicants,— 
 men perfectly blameless as far as moral character and 
 fair reputation goes, — who have never even seriously 
 inquired what the one talent entrusted to them may be, 
 much less whether they are putting it out to interest, 
 and securing a return from it. 
 
 Reader, if this most important question has never 
 yet been asked, let it form the subject of your next 
 Self-examination. Rest assured of this, that one talent 
 you have, if not many, however deep it may have been 
 buried by your thoughtlessness and indolence, however 
 much, by long want of use and currency, it may have 
 gathered a rust which has eaten away the metal. What 
 is it 1 Is there any one to whom you may be useful in 
 the way of influence, and who is continually thrown 
 across you, but for whose good you have never yet made 
 a single efibrt ? Are you surrendering for objects of 
 Religion and Charity such a proportion of your worldly 
 goods, as a conscience, enlightened by God's Word and 
 Spirit, dictates'? Have you any, and what mental 
 endowments ? And if so, are you cultivating them 
 with an ultimate view, though it may be a distant one, 
 to the Service and Glory of God ? All advance of 
 human knowledge is good and acceptable, if the Father 
 of lights have the glory of it, but contemptible, nay, 
 mischievous, if it terminates upon the gratification of 
 curiosity or of intellectual pride. Have you any leisure 
 hours ? and if so, are they turned to good account 1 A 
 little time spent upon benevolent objects may be of 
 more avail in promoting them than much money. Do 
 we ever spend our spare time so ? Does your position 
 and state of life give you any opportunity of usefulness 
 to others ? And if so, do you avail yourself of such 
 
IV.] Of Improving our Talents. 385 
 
 opportunity ? If you can do nothing else for your fel- 
 low-men, may you not perhaps console them by your 
 presence with them, and by the mere common-place in- 
 timation of your sympathy % May you not say a word of 
 kindness or encouragement, or bring together estranged 
 friends, or persuade able men to the course to which 
 God seems to be calling them 1 The trumpeter who 
 stirs the spirit of the troops by a well-timed blast, con- 
 tributes almost as much to the victory as those whom 
 he animates. 
 
 Generally, in what direction is your natural ability 
 (itself God's gift) pointing you 1 Look narrowly in 
 that direction, and you shall soon see the talent with 
 which God has furnished you. Having discovered it, 
 you are to increase by putting it out to interest. The 
 question must be, not simply how you may use it, but 
 how you may use it in the most profitable manner in 
 which it is capable of being used. Without being too 
 ambitious- -ambitious (to pursue our Lord's own figure 
 a little more into detail) of a higher interest than can 
 be had with security — how may the money be made to 
 fructify most largely ? If there are two good uses which 
 may be made of leisure hours, of superfluous money 
 and redundant luxuries, of natural parts, which of those 
 two good uses is the best ? That is generally speaking 
 the best, which has the nearest reference to the spiritual 
 interests of men, which most immediately subserves the 
 good of souls. This is God's end of ends, and this there- 
 fore should be ours. 
 
 Remark, finally, how hard thoughts of God, such as 
 the slothful servant entertained, lie at the root of all 
 unfruitfulncss in Religion. No soul was ever yet, or 
 ever will be, generous in its dealings with God, which 
 has not first formed a large estimate of God's generosity. 
 \1 
 
386 Of Improving our Talents. [part 
 
 We must perforce be niggards towards Him, so long as 
 we think Him a niggard either of pardon or grace. O 
 for a juster conception of the intensity of His love and 
 tenderness for us, of His unspeakable willingness to give 
 us day by day, and hour by hour, all things which are 
 requisite for the spiritual life ! 
 
 If we have ever so little sincere desire to serve Him 
 and to be His, is it not absolutely certain, from the 
 whole tenour of His words and deeds, that He will meet 
 us more than half-way, and bring us on in the right 
 path with more than a mother's tenderness ? He 
 requires from us a very arduous standard of sentiment 
 .and duty ; — granted. We have not for a moment in 
 the course of these Lectures blinked its arduousness ; 
 rather, we have striven to cry aloud in the ears of 
 all hearers " Excelsior ! " But does He demand any 
 thing which He is not ready out of His Son's fulness to 
 supply 1 Is He a Pharaoh, who, while He requires us 
 to build a Pyramid, bids us go get straw where we can 
 find it ? Avaunt the wicked and derogatory thought ! 
 Tor every responsibility which we have to meet. Pie 
 offers to qualify us. For every height which we have 
 to climb, He furnishes an inward strength. So that, 
 whatever be our faithless forecastings before we fairly 
 come up with our burdens, it is extremely questionable 
 whether, while we are bearing them, the heavier seems 
 more oppressive than the lighter. For the feeling of a 
 burden's oppressiveness must of course be proportioned 
 to our strength. And if with a double burden the Lord 
 supplies a double strength, it is exactly the same to our 
 experience as if with half the burden He left us half the 
 strength. Isaac leads a quiet life ; and it is not 
 recorded that any great revelation was made to him." 
 Jacob is tossed with troubles, and in the midst of them, 
 
rv.] Of Improving our Talents. 887 
 
 he dreams of the great bright ladder, which spanned 
 the distance between heaven and earth, and shadowed 
 forth the one Mediator between God and men, — the 
 man Christ Jesus. The same is the law of the Chris- 
 tian's life; an easy pilgrimage, and no extraordinary 
 support ; a tempest-tost career, and a strong consolation. 
 We need not faint then at any prospect before us. Pro- 
 gress in grace may be arduous, difficult, impossible to 
 flesh and blood, — out of the question, it may be said, 
 while living in the old world ; but to all alleged diffi- 
 culties there is one simple answer, " He Giveth more 
 GRACE." The cruse of Grace abounds, like the widow 
 of Sarepta's cruse, in time of dearth. And so we will 
 march bravely onwards, assured that, if the lastfiiilure 
 of all should begin to overtake us, there will be a pro- 
 portionally large inflowing from that cruse into the 
 inner man. 
 
 " My flesh and my heart faileth ; but God is the 
 strength of my heart, and my portion for ever." " For 
 which cause we faint not; but though our outward 
 man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by 
 day." 
 
388 ( f the later ior Life. [part 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 OF THE INTERIOR LIFE. 
 
 " TJien shall the kingdom of heaven he likened unto ten virgins^ 
 which took their lamps, and went forth to meet the bridegroom. 
 And five of them were wise, and five were foolish. They that 
 were foolish took their lamps, and took no oil with them : but the 
 wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps. While the bride- 
 groom tarried, they all slumbered and slept. And at midnighi 
 there was a cry made, Behold, the bridegroom cometh : go ye out 
 to meet him. Then all those virgins arose, and trimmed their 
 lamps. And the foolish said unto the wise, Give us of your 
 oil: for our lamps are gone out. But the wise ansioered saying, 
 Not so : lest there he not enough for us and you : but go ye rather 
 to thein that sell, and buy for yourselves. And while they went 
 to buy, the bridegroom came : and they that were ready went m 
 with him to the marriage : and the door was shut. Afterwards 
 oarae also the other virgins, saying, Lord, Lord, open to us. Bu^ 
 he answered and said. Verily I say unto you, I know you not. 
 Watch therefore for ye know neither the day nor the hotir wherein 
 the Son of man cometh.'''' — Matt, xxv, 1 — 13. 
 
 In music, the key-note, which rules the strain, also 
 closes it. It should be the same with compositions. 
 Every discourse, every systematic series of discourses, 
 should, after running its round through a variety of 
 propositions and illustrations, at length return to the 
 chord originally struck, or, in other words, gather itself 
 up again into its fundamental idea. We will endeavour 
 to give our Thoughts on Personal Eeligion this cor*- 
 pleteness, by setting before the reader, in rather a 
 different aspect, at their close, the thoughts which origi- 
 nally gave rise to them. 
 
 The 24th and 25th chapters of St. Matthew form 
 but one Prophetic Discourse, (grievously disjointed 
 
IV.] Of the Interior Life. 889 
 
 by the division into Chapters to the great prejudice of 
 the sense,) which may be called the Prophecy on the 
 Mount ; and which corresponds to the great Preceptive 
 Discourse of Christ, called the Sermon on the Mount, 
 which is to be found in the fifth and two following 
 chapters of the same Gospel. This Prophecy was 
 delivered at a most solemn period of our Lord's career. 
 He had closed His public Ministry amongst that " evil 
 and adulterous generation," with eight solemn woes 
 denounced in wrath against them, — but a wrath chas- 
 tened, toned down, beautified with all the tenderness of 
 that parting plaint ; " O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou 
 that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are 
 sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy 
 children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens 
 under her wings, and ye would not ! " Then, calling it 
 their house, to show that it was no longer God's, He 
 suits the action to the word, and passes out of the 
 Temple, as He utters that sentence : " Behold, your 
 house is left unto you desolate." He then ascends the 
 Mount of Olives, from thence to take a parting view of 
 the City and Temple, and, sitting there, pronounces the 
 Prophecy which is before us ; and which, springing from 
 summit to summit in the long perspective of the future, 
 carries us down to that division of the sheep from the 
 goats, which will form the concluding scene of Human 
 History. Our Blessed Lord had always loved to teach 
 by Parables ; and He continues this method in the dis- 
 course before us. The ancient Greek dramatists used to 
 mass together four dramatic pieces in one series, called 
 a tetralogy, — each piece being often connected with the 
 foregoing, and presenting a fresh development of the 
 fortunes of some royal house. Our Blessed Lord here 
 utters, at the close of His Prophecy, a tetralogy of 
 
890 Of the Interior Life. [part 
 
 Parables, that of the evil servant in authority, that of 
 the ten virgins, that of the talents, and that of the 
 separation between the sheep and the goats, — all repre- 
 senting the awful crisis of judgment, as it will be grad- 
 ually unfolded, — ^judgment beginning with the house of 
 God or Christian Church, — taking effect, first, upon " the 
 ministers and stewards of God's mysteries," who 
 are the servants in authority, next upon Christians 
 considered in regard of the interior and spiritual life,who 
 are the virgins ; next upon Christians considered in regard 
 of their exterior life in God's Service, who are the ser- 
 vants entrusted with the talents ; and, finally, passing 
 on to the non-Christian world, all " the nations," or Gen- 
 tiles, who shall be judged by the only law which they 
 have had, — the law of kindness to fellow-men, which is 
 written on the human heart. 
 
 The connexion in which this Parable of the Virgin 
 occurs having thus been exhibited, we will now point 
 out the chief lessons which it conveys. 
 
 The persons here warned, then, are those who have 
 received genuine religious impressions, and have cor- 
 responded with fervour to the grace originally bestowed 
 upon them. Such were the majority of Christians, in 
 the times when the Gospel was first preached with the 
 Holy Ghost sent down from Heaven. All were then 
 earnest in some measure ; for the mere profession of 
 Christianity carried with it persecution, and so involved 
 a test of sincerity, — all were animated in some degree 
 not by faith only, but by zeal and love. A flame of 
 joyful hope and earnest aspiration was kindled upon 
 every heart, — the flame this of the lamp of the virgins. 
 The question was, of course, how long such a state of 
 mind would hold out, — how long such a flame would 
 burn. An expectation prevailed among the members 
 
[V.] Of the Interior Life. 391 
 
 of the Early Church, and even the Apostles seem to 
 have been more or less partakers of it, that the flame 
 would not have to burn very long. From such 
 expressions as, " We which are alive, and remain unto 
 the coming of the Lord ; " " The Judge standeth 
 before the door ; " " Little children, it is the last 
 time ; " " Yet a little while, and he that shall come will 
 come, and will not tarry ; " " 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," they had 
 gathered, not unnaturally, the impression that " the 
 day of Christ was at hand." The Bridegroom would 
 soon return to bring them in from the cold outlying 
 stations of the world to the joyous light and genial 
 warmth of the Weddiug Festival ; — the Lord Jesus 
 would come again, as He had promised, and receive 
 His own unto Himself. But if He tarried, as we 
 know that eventually He did, what then % Why, this 
 tarrying would give great scope for discrimination of 
 character. It would show clearly who could, and 
 who could not, persevere in His absence. Hitherto 
 religion had been very much a matter of impression 
 with Christians ; Heaven had seemed, at their con 
 version, to open to them all its treasures ; the Holy 
 Spirit had seemed, when their Baptism was consum- 
 mated by imposition of hands, to descend upon them, 
 if not in the likeness of fiery tongues, yet in a flame of 
 zeal and love. But this tarrying of the Bridegroom 
 would considerably alter the aspect of religion ; — would 
 reduce it from a matter of impression to a matter of 
 principle. It was easy, enough to kindle into fliith, and 
 hope, and love, when the fervid eloquence of Apostles 
 broke upon their ear, and the elevating example of 
 Apostles was under their eyes ; but when their Apos- 
 
392 Of the Interior Life, [pakt 
 
 tie left them to visit other regions, when he died 
 in cruel torments, witnessing of his Lord, and the 
 tidings reached them of his death ; and yet the Bride- 
 groom gave no signal, and they were left still exposed 
 to all the inclemency and dangers of the dark night, 
 the fliith, and hope, and love, then began to burn a 
 little low in the socket. And then would come out 
 the distinction of character between Christian and Chris- 
 tian. Passive impressions are designed to be the foun- 
 dation of active habits, and some would try to make 
 them so. Others would allow their impressions to col- 
 lapse, without providing for the renewal of them. In- 
 stead of regarding them as something to begin and go 
 on upon, they would let them terminate on themselves, 
 and wear out, as it were, their stock of grace, before 
 the day of reckoning came, without an attempt to re- 
 plenish it. 
 
 And are there no Christians, now-a-days, of exactly 
 the same order ? None who remain satisfied with the 
 stock of grace which they received, when they were 
 first brought under religious, impression % Oh, how 
 brightly would their light have been found shining, had 
 they been called away by death, or, in other words, had 
 the Bridegroom come to them, when the first fervour 
 of those impressions was upon them ! How zealous 
 were they then ! how strict were their lives ! how 
 faithful was their protest against the world, and its 
 corrupt works and ways ! They even talked of being 
 assured of their own salvation, not at all ostentatiously 
 or boastfully, but merely because in those days God's 
 Spirit did so powerfully bear witness with their spirits 
 that they were the children of God. But alas ! their 
 original impressions were not secured, and (if I may so 
 say) stereotyped by activity in the interior life of faith. 
 
IV.] Of the Interior Life. 393 
 
 They did not make the resistance of bosom sins, and 
 the formation of the mind of Christ within them, their 
 one study and pursuit. The indolent, evil thought 
 would still insinuate itself, until it leavened their entire 
 character: "I have been religious once; the oil of 
 grace was poured into the vessel of my heart ; and I 
 can quite afford to go on upon my old stock." Un- 
 happily the ministry of God's Word, as it has been 
 carried on in the Church of England for the last 
 half-century, tended to * foster this miserable delusion. 
 Almost all the good preaching was directed to awaken 
 the conscience, not to guide it ; to make lively impres- 
 sions, not to render them permanent. If men went 
 away from the sermon pricked to the heart, with the 
 arrow of conviction rankling in their conscience, im- 
 pressed once for all with the value of the soul, the 
 danger of sin, the preeiousness of Christ, that was 
 all which, for the most part, either preacher or hearers 
 looked for ; the next Sunday it was sought to do the 
 same work over again upon fresh minds. There being 
 unhappily little or no intercourse on spiritual subjects 
 between the minister and the people, there was nothing 
 but his own religious experience to force upon his 
 notice the fact that the human conscience, after being 
 quickened, urgently needs direction, or, in other words, 
 that Christians need gradual edification, as well as that 
 primary work upon the heart, by which they are turned 
 from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan 
 unto God. And, accordingly, it came to be regarded 
 as the whole business of the ministry to impress ; and 
 the pulpit being unquestionably the great means of 
 doing this, public prayers and Sacraments (the means 
 of edification rather than conversion) were, to the 
 great detriment of true religion, postponed to the 
 
 n* 
 
394 Of the Interior Life. [pakt 
 
 c 
 
 pulpit ; and the hearer, having been worked up to a 
 certain state of feeling on elementary religious truths, 
 (reiterated oftentimes every Sunday, whatever might 
 be the text,) was thenceforth left to fare for himself. 
 If he had made a genuine earnest commencement in 
 religion, if he had lit his lamp of Christian profession 
 with the oil of Divine grace, that was enough ; no 
 pains was taken to have a reserve of oil in the oil- 
 vessel. 
 
 We shall further expand the lesson of the Parable, if 
 we look somewhat more deeply into the emblems of the 
 light and the oil, and consider the relation which exists 
 between them. Observe, then, that the flame of a 
 lamp is continually burning away the oil. Also, that 
 the flame is visible ; and the oil hidden in the vessel. 
 The oil, according to an emblem very usual in Scrip- 
 ture, signifies the Holy Spirit, or divine grace in the 
 inner man of the heart. The light, or flame of the 
 lamp, shall take its interpretation from our Lord's own 
 words ; "Let your light so shine before men, that they 
 may see your good works, and glorify your Father 
 which is in heaven," — a reference which gives consid- 
 erable insight into the consistency of Scripture with 
 Scripture. The flame is, in the broadest sense of those 
 words, that confession of Christ before men which is 
 the external condition of salvation, — the confession 
 which is made for each of us by our representatives in 
 Baptism, renewed in our own persons at Confirmation, 
 virtually repeated whenever we join in an act of 
 Christian worship, repeated more emphatically still 
 whenever we receive the Holy Communion. But the 
 burning of the flame implies something more than the 
 mere nominal profession, which, under the present 
 condition of things, all Christians make. When our 
 
IV.] Of the Interior Life. 395 
 
 Lord bids us let our light shine before men, He 
 means something much more than this merely nominal 
 profession. He expresses the entire example of the 
 Christian life, given both by its external activities, 
 and by its quiet influence. The kind actions, the 
 benevolent philanthropic schemes, the usefidness to 
 others, whether below us or around us, — all these 
 are parts of the flame; in proportion as these are 
 prominent in any man's life, the flame of his lamp 
 burns brightly. But note, now, that it is in the 
 nature of flame to burn away the oil by which it is fed. 
 Christians, if you have spent a busy day in God's 
 Service and in works of love, — if you have stood in 
 the breach, and made a manful protest against worldly 
 sentiments, practices, maxims, — if you have run hither 
 and thither on the errand of mercy to the poor, the 
 sick, the dying, — if your hands have been busy on 
 some work whereby the truth of God may be main- 
 tained, and His glory and the interests of His Church 
 subserved ; this is all good, so far as it goes, and a 
 subject of devout thankfulness ; but still it is external 
 work, and as being external, it necessarily makes a 
 demand upon, and consumes the powers of, the inner 
 life. It is all an outgoing of oil ; and, if there be no 
 incomings thereof, the flame will not burn long. 
 This good work, this kind word of admonition, this act 
 of beneficence, takes up so much grace, — so much 
 grace spends itself in the production of it; and, 
 accordingly, when it has been produced, more grace 
 will be wanted. Now the question is, are you taking 
 measures to have more % And this question carries us 
 beyond the external life altogether into the hidden 
 man of the heart, — it leads us away from the flame 
 into the oil-vessels. " Your life," says St. Paul (4. e. 
 
396 Of the Interior Life. [pabi 
 
 the springs and sources of it), " is hid with Christ in 
 God." What of this hidden life ? How is it thriving ? 
 " When Christ, who is our life, shall appear," will this 
 hidden life, which you have been leading, leap to light, 
 and be made abundantly manifest % Would you know 
 what is the method of nourishing the springs of this 
 hidden life, — of securing a reserve of oil % One word, 
 understood in a broad and spiritual sense, represents 
 the entire method, — Prayer. Man of profession, are 
 you a man of prayer ? Man of work, are you a man of 
 prayer % Man of activity, are you a man of prayer ? 
 If your light is shining before men, are you giving all 
 diligence to have a supply of oil that you may keep it 
 sol 
 
 And yet, because of the sad tendency of the human 
 mind to formalize spiritual things, and to reduce 
 spiritual exercises into an "opus operatum," (as the 
 Romanists reduce the grace of repentance to the 
 imaginary Sacrament of Penance,) it is quite possible 
 that the term Prayer, when it is said that Prayer is the 
 method of feeding the lamp with oil, may need some 
 explanation. By prayer, then, we mean not the mere 
 quarter of an hour, or half an hour, which a man spends 
 on his knees daily, but rather the spirit and temper of 
 mind, in which the Christian aims at going through 
 his day. There may be stated prayer, recurring every 
 morning and evening, without the hidden life. And, 
 conversely, there may be the hidden life under circum- 
 stances, which render stated prayer an impossibility. 
 The prayer we speak of is that which mixes itself up 
 with all our actions and recreations, as a lump of some 
 solid substance, whose nature is to melt in liquid, gives 
 a taste to every drop of the liquid in which it is allowed 
 to stand awhile. But it too often happens that the 
 
rv.] Of the Interior Life. 397 
 
 prayer of stoted periods, though attentively and devoutly 
 said, stands isolated and alone, and never manages to 
 transfuse its sweetness into our ways, character, and 
 conduct. Such prayer is not for a moment to be 
 identified with the hidden life. And, on the other 
 hand, although we have said that the external life of 
 service and profession consumes the grace which is 
 ministered inwardly, this is only true so far as the 
 external life is external. The life of active service maij 
 be so conducted as to secure fresh supplies of grace. 
 If in every part of his active, work for God the Chris- 
 tian sets God before him ; if he is very jealous of the 
 purity of his motives and the rectitude of his intentions, 
 and very self-searching on these points ; if he pauses 
 awhile amidst his occupations, to realize the Presence 
 of God ; if he offers up all the works of his calling to 
 God in the Union of our Lord's Death and Passion ; if 
 he is diligent in ejaculatory prayer; if, even in the 
 little crosses and annoyances of the day, he regards the 
 will of God who sends them, and takes them accordingly 
 with sweetness and buoyancy of spirit ; if he cultivates 
 the habit of allowing the objects of Nature, and passing 
 events, to remind him of spiritual truth, and lead his 
 mind upward ; if, in short, he turns each incident of life 
 into a spiritual exercise, and extracts from each a spiri- 
 tual good, — then he is cultivating the internal life, 
 while he engages in the external ; and while, on the one 
 hand, he is expending the oil of grace, he is, on the 
 other, laying in a fresh stock of it in his oil-vessels. 
 
 The main lesson, then, taught by our Parable, may 
 be said to be that of perseverance unto the' end. In 
 other Scriptures, the doctrine is brought out that God 
 Himself secures the perseverance of those who are 
 truly His own people, — as, for example, to quote on]y 
 
398 Of the Interior Life. [paeI 
 
 the words of Our Lord Himself: "My sheep shall 
 never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of 
 my hand." Here the equally necessary lesson is ad- 
 verted to, that perseverance there can be none without 
 spiritual industry. The wise virgins had taken pains 
 to lay in a reserve of oil ; the foolish ones had taken no 
 such pains. The warning, then, is for those, in whose 
 hearts the flame of the spiritual life has been once 
 kindled, but who, forgetting the law of our moral 
 nature, that the best impressions consume the energies 
 of the soul, and require to be secured in their results 
 by the active cultivation of Christian graces, give no 
 diligence to make their calling and election sure, and 
 so eventually frustrate that calling and election. We 
 believe there are very many such. We believe that 
 where conversion is considered every thing, and edi- 
 fication nothing; where quiet instruction in the 
 lessons of holiness is sacrificed to exciting addresses, 
 which stimulate the understanding, and arouse the 
 feelings; and where religion is apt to resolve itselr 
 into a religious emotion every Sunday, just stirring the 
 torpor of a worldly life with a pleasurable sensation, — 
 there will be many such. And we have devoted this 
 little work, upon which, as we close it, we implore God's 
 Blessing, through our Lord Jesus Christ, to an exposure 
 of the hollowness of such a form of piety, and to a 
 protest in favour of that interior life (or, in other words, 
 that Personal Religion), for the lack of which no bril- 
 liancy of active service done to God can by possibility 
 compensate, 
 
NOTE TO PAGE 113. 
 
 The author, of course, is not here to be understood 
 as recommending — even in this quahfied manner — any 
 of the ordinary Eomish books of devotion, such as, for 
 the most part, are used by members of that communion — 
 or even such as are easily to be obtained. Nor does 
 there seem to be the least occasion that recourse be had 
 to any Eomish books of devotion whatever. For in such 
 -works as the following, surely — and the list might be 
 largely extended — we have all that we should desire. 
 
 Andrewes' Devotions. New Manual of Devotions. 
 
 Priests Prayer-Book. Sacra Privata. 
 
 Hele's Offices. Bright's Ancient Collects. 
 
 Daily Preparation for Death Devotions for the Sick 
 
 and Eternity. Koom. 
 
 Kettle well's Companion for Thoughts for the Sick Poor. 
 
 the Penitent. Manual for Mourners. 
 
 Sherlock's Practical Chris- Family and Closet Devo- 
 
 tian. tions. 
 
 Hobart's Christian Manual. The Book of Praise. 
 
 Patrick's Christian Sacri- Cosin's Hours. 
 
 •fice. Golden Grove. 
 
 Advice. Law's Serious Call. 
 
 Parable. Hook's Every Day in the 
 
 The Altar. Year. 
 
400 
 
 Note. 
 
 Forms of Prayer for the 
 Holy Eucharist. (Mas- 
 ters, London.) 
 
 Devout Communicant. 
 (Bickersteth.) 
 
 Preparation for the Holy 
 Communion. (Sewell.) 
 
 Earnest Communicant. 
 (Oxenden.) 
 
 Daily Steps Toward Heaven. 
 
 Pietas Quotidiaua. 
 
 Hicke's Devotions. 
 
 Nelson's Fasts and Festivals. 
 
 Nelson on Communion. 
 
 Eucharistica. 
 
 The Sheltering Vine. 
 
 Pastor in his Closet. 
 
 Sickness : its Trials and 
 
 Blessings. 
 Words of Peace. (Oxenden.) 
 Charles Wesley's Hymns. 
 Hymns for Church and 
 
 Home. 
 
 G. H. H. 
 
 THE BND. 
 
At^ of these Books sent free hy mail to any address on receipt of Price, 
 
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 Vol. VI. — From the Keign of Nero, a. d. 54, to the Fall of Jerusa- 
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 Vol. VII. — From the Destruction of Jerusalem, a. d. 70, to the 
 Death of M. Aurelius. 
 
 This valuable work terminates at the point where the narrative of Gibbon 
 commences. 
 
 " When we enter an a more searching criticism of the two 
 writers, it must be admitted tbat Merivale has as firm a grasp of his subject as 
 Gibbon, and that liis work is characterized by a greater freedom from preju- 
 dice, and a sounder philosophy. 
 
 " This history must always stand as a splendid monument 
 of his learning, his candor, and his vigorous grasp of intellect. Thongh he 
 is in some respects inferior to Macaulay and Grote, he must still be classed 
 with them, as one of the second great triumvirate of Eugliah historians." — 
 Jfarth American Review, April, 1863. 
 
 Practice in the Executive De- 
 
 partment of the Government, under the Pension, Bounty, and 
 
 Prize Laws of the United States, with Forms and Instructions 
 
 for Collecting Arrears of Pay, Bounty, and Prize Money, and 
 
 for Obtaining Pensions. By Kobert Se^vell, Counsellor at 
 
 Law. 1 vol., 8vo. Sheep. 
 
 " I offer this httle book with confidence to the profession, as certain to 
 Bave lawyers, in one case, if they never have any more, more time and trouble 
 than its cost. To the public generally, the book is oftered as containing a 
 large amount of useful information on a subject now, unfortunately, brought 
 home to half the families in the land. To the otficers and soldiers of the Army 
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 By H. "W. S. Cleveland. 1 vol., 12mo. Illustrated, with au- 
 
 merous Designs of Rifles and Rifle Practice. Cloth. 
 
 •* I offer these hinis as the contribution of an old sporti^man, and if I suo- 
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 Life of Edward Livingston, . 
 
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 artistic excellence." — Tablet. 
 
HISTORY OF THE WORLD, 
 
 By PHILIP SMITH, B. A. 
 
 PLAN OF THE WORK. 
 
 Since Sir Walter Raleigh solaced his imprisonment in the Tower by 
 the composition of his "History of the World," the Literature of 
 England has never achieved the work which he left unfinished. There 
 havQ been "Universal Histories," from the bulk of an encyclopaedia 
 to the most meagre outline, in which the annals of each nation are 
 separately recorded ; but without an attempt to trace the story of 
 Divine Providence and human progress in one connected narrative. 
 It is proposed to supply this want by a work, condensed enough to 
 keep it within a reasonable size, but yet so full as to be free from the 
 dry baldness of an epitome. The Uterature of Germany abounds 
 in histories, — such as those of Miiller, Schlosser, Karl von Rotteck, 
 Duncker, and others, — which at once prove the demand for such a 
 book, and funiish models, in some degree, for its execution. But even 
 those great works are somewhat deficient in that organic unity which 
 is the cliief aim of this "History of the World." 
 
 The story of our whole race, hke that of each separate nation, has 
 " a beginning, a middle, and an end." That story we propose to fol- 
 low, from its beginning in the sacred records, and from the dawn of 
 civilization in the East, — through the successive Oriental Empires, — 
 the rise of hberty and the perfection of heathen polity, arts, and 
 literature in Greece and Rome, — the change which passed over the 
 face of the world when the light of Christianity sprung up, — the 
 origin and first appearance of those barbarian races which overthrew 
 both divisions of the Roman Empire, — the annals of the States which 
 rose on the Empire's ruins, including the picturesque details of 
 medieval history and the steady progress of modern hberty and civili- 
 zation, — and the extension of these influences, by discovery, con- 
 quest, colonization, and Christian missions, to the remotest regions of 
 the earth. In a word, as separate histories reflect the detached scenes 
 of human action and suffering, our aim is to bring into one view the 
 several parts which assuredly form one great whole, moving onwards, 
 under the guidance of Divine Providence, to the unknown end ordain- 
 ed in the Divine purposes. 
 
 Such a work, to be really useful, must be condensed into a moder- 
 ate compass ; else the powers of the writer would be frittered away, 
 and the attention of the reader wearied out by an overwhelming bulk, 
 filled up with microscopic details. The more striking facts of history, 
 — the rise and fall of empires, — the achievements of warriors and 
 heroes, — the struggles of peoples for their rights and freedom, — the 
 conflict between priestcraft and religious hberty, — must needs stand 
 out on the canvas of such a picture with thf prominence they claim 
 in the world itself. But they will not divei't our attention from the 
 more quiet and influential working of science and art, social progrcsa 
 
HISTORY OF THE WORLD. 
 
 and individual thought, — ^the living seed sown, and the fruit borne, in 
 the field broken up by those outward changes. 
 
 While special care will be bestowed on those periods and nations, 
 the history of which is scarcely to be found in any works accessible 
 to the general reader, the more familiar parts of history will be 
 treated in their due proportion to the whole work. It will be found, 
 we trust, by no means the least valuable part of the scheme, — that 
 the pcfrtions of history which are generally looked at by themselves, 
 — those, for example, of Greece and Rome, and of our own country, 
 — ^wiU be regarded from a common point of view with all the rest : a 
 view which may, in some cases, modify the conclusions drawn by 
 classical partiahty and national pride. 
 
 The spirit of the work, — at least if the execution be true to the 
 conception, — will be equally removed from narrow partisanship and 
 affected indifference. The historian, as well as the poet, must be in 
 earnest, 
 
 " Dower'd with the hate of hate, the scorn of scorn, 
 The love of love ;" 
 
 but he must also be able to look beyond the errors, and even the 
 virtues, of his fellow-men, to the great ends which the Supreme Ruler 
 of events works out by their agency : — 
 
 " Yet I doubt not through the ages one increasing purpose runs, 
 And the thoughts of men are widenM with the process of the suns.'" 
 
 No pains will be spared to make this history scholarlike in sub- 
 stance and popular in style. It will be foimded on the best authori- 
 ties, ancient and modern, original and secondary. The vast progress 
 recently made in historical and critical investigations, the results ob- 
 tained from the modem science of comparative philology, and the 
 discoveries which have laid open new sources of information concerning 
 the East, afford such facilities as to make the present a fit epoch for 
 our undertaking. 
 
 The work will be divided into three Periods, each complete in 
 itself, and will form Eight Volumes in Demy Octavo. 
 I. — Ancient History, Sacred and Secular ; from the Creation to the 
 
 Fall of the Western Empire, in A. D. 41Q. Two Volumes. 
 II. — Medieval History, Civil and Ecclesiastical ; from the Fall of the 
 
 Western Empire to the taking of Constantinople by the Turks, 
 
 in A. D 1453. Two Volumes. 
 III. — Modern History ; from the Fall of the Byzantine Empire to 
 
 our own Times. Four Volumes. 
 It will be published in 8 vols., 8vo. Price in cloth $3 50 per vol. 
 Sheep $4 50. Volume 1. now ready. 
 
 NEW YORK: D. APPLETON & CO., Publishers. 
 
1 1012 01250 8091 
 
 
 Date Due 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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