/Uex&^rHeX^c **"V. CAMBRIDGE SERMONS BY < ALEXANDER McKENZIE BOSTON D. LOTHROP AND COMPANY 32 FRANKLIN STREET Copyright, 1883. d. lothrop and compant. These sermons are, for the most part, printed from reports made by Mr. H. W. Gleason. CONTENTS. I, — The one Life .... 7 II. — Who loved Me 31 Ill, — Choose whom ye will serve 49 IV, — Looking toward the Sea 70 V, — The good Merchant 83 VI.- — Why stand ye gazing 102 VIL- — Xot by might, but by Spirit 122 VIII, — Grieving the Holy Spirit 142 IX.- — Turning Northward 162 X.- — What must I do 183 XI.- — The Love of God manifested . 183 XII.- -We shall be like Him 222 XIII.- — The unchanging Christ 240 XIV- — The wayside Seed . 263 XV.- -Truth commending Itself 283 XVI.- - The Power of an endless Life 303 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. I. THE ONE LIFE. Scripture Lesson : Revelation, Chapter xxii. Text : And I, even I only, am left ; and they seek my life, to take it away. — I ICings, xix : 10. I EVEN I only, am left." "What a chance he had, the only man in Israel who loved God, and whom God approved ! What a communion must have been given him as the Spirit of God dwelt with him ! What an opportunity for use- fulness ! He was not bearing to the people a common thing ; he was not standing as a wit- ness to that which everybody knew, and offer- ing to men that which others could give to them ; he was the only man who could make the people see God ; who was authorized to speak for him ; to whom men might point and say, " Behold the servant of God." Our influence is so much curtailed, and our opportunities to bless the world, because there are so many others who have the same kind of goods to sell, the same kind of spirit to illustrate, the same sort of influence to exert, that when one finds himself standing alone, holding a great treasure, 7 8 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. or representing some great truth, it is then that his opportunity has come. It sometimes hap- pens that there is one only of a family who loves Christ. What an opportunity is his ! There may be only one in a circle of friends who serves God ; there may be only one in a class, one among the clerks in a store, one in a firm of merchants, one in any of the associations of life. Almost everybody we know may be a stranger to God. What a divine opportunity, to be promptly and heartily improved ! It was a misconception on this man's part, that he was alone in his fidel- ity ; yet the influence of seven thousand who had not bowed the knee to Baal, and whose lips had not kissed him, went for very little so long as they chose to be concealed. No one wishes to deny the value of secret piety -, but no man ever read in his New Testament that secret piety was enough. It is not more plainly required of us that we believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, than that we let the world know that we believe on him. The word of the Gos- pel which we have read this morning, which bids whosoever will to come to him, with equal emphasis bids whosoever comes to repeat the word, that it may pass from man to man, and land to land, until, all through the earth, the other sheep which are not of this fold are brought into the one flock under the one shepherd. Nobly had this man Elijah used his oppor- THE ONE LIFE. 9 tunity. When lie was called upon to stand alone, he stood alone. " I, I only remain a prophet of the Lord ; but Baal's prophets are four hundred and fifty men." He matched himself against them all; he denied nothing; he concealed nothing; he withheld nothing. He stood out in that simple personality, one man here and four hundred and fifty there ; one man with God and the hundreds with Baal ; and this one man with God outnumbered and subdued them all. Then there came that reac- tion which comes so often; a reaction which is needed. It is scarcely possible that with such success and such wonderful achievements as marked the life of Elijah, he should be able to bear this pressure and to live in this exalted state. It was almost inevitable that, when the excitement was withdrawn, when no longer there were hundreds of men to resist him, and he stood alone, the conqueror — it was almost inevitable that his heart should fail him. It was necessary that he should have this recalling to himself. God gives it to us ; he gave it to Elijah ; he gave it to St. Paul afterwards. Lest he should be exalted out of measure hy the abundance of the revelation, lest he should be exalted in his own thoughts and be separated from his work, God gave to St. Paul a thorn in the flesh. He gave to Elijah that woman Jezebel to bring him to humility, that he might 10 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. feel it was God alone who was great, even though he was the prophet of God. There was a falling back into dismay and disappointment ; there was a halting, because of the fear which oppressed his soul. Then there came those grand lessons. One brought him down from the comfort of the proud seclusion in which he lived. He was reminded that there were seven thousand who were like himself; seven thousand faithful hearts. It was not altogether a pleasant thought for a man who was boast- ing himself in his peculiar goodness. As if that was not enough, he was reminded that it was not very essential that he should live ; for there was a farmer's boy following the oxen along the plains of Abel-meholah, who would be ready to stand in his place and take up his work ; so that for the world it mattered very little whether Elijah lived or not. How much there was to make this man find his place ; not to take away anything which he had wrought or anything from his willingness to do, but to bring him to the level of other men, until he found in his own heart that which the Scrip- ture has been frank enough to write concern- ing him, that " Elijah was a man subject to like passions as we are," so that he needed the same discipline that he might keep the faith. But Elijah lived, went to Beersheba, left his ser- vant behind him, plunged into the wilderness THE ONE LIFE. 11 and there laid him down in his despair and prayed that he might die. Then there came that which God so often gives, and which works so wonderfully for our relief, a good night's sleep. It is marvellous how the still, dark hours of the night will clear one's thoughts and bring him to his place ; how often the dejection of evening is banished when the sun rises ; how many mysteries and uncertainties have flown when the day comes back again. Elijah lay down to sleep and found that truth which is written in the Psalm, that God giveth to his beloved while they sleep. He gave to this man, for Elijah was his beloved. As he slept the angel touched him and spoke to him, and when he was awake he fed him. Twice he touched him, twice he roused him, and gave him bread and drink, and the man went forty days and nights on the strength of this ministry of mercy and of bread. We find no more the wish that he might die, no more the desire to be rid of the world, no more of the terrible despondency which made his earthly future full of terror. He went his way to the place where a greater than he had been commissioned, where Moses had found God, where God had found Moses. In the shad- ows and among the very cliffs of Horeb did this man wait until he should hear God ; and he heard God. Men always hear God when they listen. He heard God, not in the wind which 12 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. broke the rocks in pieces, not in the earth- quake which shook the mountains to their base, not in the fire which blazed from cliff to cliff and lighted up the deep gorges ; not in these. There had been enough of tumult, enough of storm and tempest. They had exhausted their power on this man's heart. God came closer to him, and when he had made quietness he spoke to him in a still small voice which Elijah heard. Now what is Elijah's complaint ? "I only am left, and they seek my life to take it away." What is the remedy ? God did that which another had purposed to clo ; he took the man's life away ; not the breath out of his body, but his life. He took Elijah's life up into his own hands, and Elijah consented to have it taken up into the hands of God. I pray that it may be marked, because it is a lesson in which we need very much to be instructed, that God came to this despondent man, not with words of mere comfort, not with that worn and unsatisfying solace which we so often speak, not weeping with him, not weeping over him ; but with that comfort wherewith men are comforted of God. He came to him with something to do. What did he say to this man who felt that his life was in peril, that he only was left and that men were about to take away his life? He did not point him to the glory which shall be forever ; he did not say, " Well, Elijah, everybody must THE ONE LIFE. 13 die, and it matters very little whether it is to-day or to-morrow, whether it is in this way or in that." He did not say, " You have rendered a very good service ; you have outlived your use- fulness." He said nothing like that. O, men, there is something here, in the way in which God came to Elijah, that is full of comfort and wis- dom for you and me. For I notice this : That when God comforts a man, it is very often by giving him work. He does not content himself with soothing and quieting men as if they had no strength and were simply like crying children needing to be fondled and indulged. God re- spects the manhood of a man. What does he say to Elijah's complaint — " I, even I only am left, and they seek my life to take it away?" " Go, return on thy way to the wilderness of Damascus i and when thou comest, anoint Hazael to be king over Syria ; and Jehu the son of Nim- shi shalt thou anoint to be king over Israel ; and Elisha the son of Shaphat of Abel-meholah shalt thou anoint to be prophet in thy room." That was God's comfort, something to do. When a man is busy for God he has comfort. Our de- spondent hours are the hours when we are not at work, or not at work for God. With a man's hands pouring oil upon Hazael and Jehu, and dropping the mantle upon Elisha, there is very little time to think about Jezebel. The calmness of God comes to the obedient child of God. 14 CAMBRIDGE SEBMONS. Then God took his life. It is very singular that this man, who had such a great fear that his life was to be taken away, that he was to die a death of violence, did not die a death of violence ; did not die any death, not even on his bed. There came a chariot of fire and horses of fire when they were ready, and the prophet went up into the glory of God. The Lord had sought his life and had taken it away. How grand the con- trast is ! Let nine hundred years pass by. He was in the wilderness, this prophet strong and severe, clothed in his garment of camel's hair, feeding upon locusts and wild honey, the prophet of a rugged time committing his way unto God. Next yon see him at Hermon, far in the north. This lonely man, who has found Moses somewhere beyond the clouds, comes down with Moses to the transfiguration of the Lord, no longer stern in spirit, or clad in coarse apparel. These two prophets of the ancient time appeared in glory and talked with the Lord " of his decease which he should accomplish at Jerusalem." Let us mark that the turning point of Elijah's life was not when he conquered the four hundred and fifty prophets of Baal, nor when he ascended in a chariot of fire into heaven ; the turning point of this man's life was when, among the peaks of Horeb, he heard the voice of God and obeyed it, and putting his fears into the cave, went down to anoint Hazael to be king over Syria, and Elisha THE ONE LIFE. 15 to be prophet in his room. It is not strange that ever afterwards the people were expecting Elijah to come back. You find it running all through their history. When Jesus came, it was Elijah, some said. Some declared that John the Baptist was indeed Elijah. The prophet so stamped himself upon the minds and hearts of the people that they looked for his return. If he ever had come — and he did in his time — it would have been because in the rock he heard the voice of God and did what God told him to do. I have brought this to your notice this morning, not that I may speak upon this illustrious man, but because there are certain points here which, so far from being exceptional, are a common heritage for us. I wish to take one or two things out of this man's life, that we may see how our lives are to gather the inspiration for which this word is written. These two things are to be noticed, and they are the points about which all I shall say will arrange itself; first, that this man had a life, just one life, and he had it all to himself there in the mountain. There were seven thousand other men who had seven thousand other lives, but he had this life and it was all his own; it was all the life he had. It was worth a great deal to him. He justly thought that it was worth a great deal to the world, to God ; and he wanted to keep that 16 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. life and make the most of it. Then the other thought immediately connected with this is, that he kept this life and made the most of it by finding God and linking his life with God's life ; his plan with God's plan. If there are any two truths in the whole circle of truth which may be called universal, I think they are these : that every man has one life, and that every man shall make the most of that life by joining it with God's life and God's thought. This is true of every one of us, that every man has his life, one life, and that life is fast slipping awa}' from his grasp. How rapidly it is passing, year after year, and day after day ! How little time it takes to make the hair white and the step feeble ! How soon it comes, and our friends begin to say that we are get- ting old, and a little after we feel it ourselves, and by and by we give up one thing and another, and see that life is passing gradually away, until at last they carry us out and round the sods over us. Another thing is true. We have but this one life and this life is fast escaping; but we are to remember that this life is the mak- ing of the endless years beyond. I have said here a great many times, that there is but one life, and that time and eternity are one. But I wish this morning to take up our common method of speech. Let us speak as if life came to a great change in that which we call death. THE OXE LIFE. 17 This life, or the part of our life this side of death, reaches forward into that which is to come. We might expect this. It is after the analogy of nature. Life everywhere is after this plan. In the field there is the seed time, and after that the harvest. Following that analogy which the Scripture takes up and illustrates and enforces, this life is the seed time and after it comes the harvest ; so that clearly this life finds its great value as it reaches on into the years which are before us. The Scripture teaches us in many places, that for the deeds we are doing here in the body we shall give account when we stand at the judgment seat of Christ. There is one other thing at this point : that life is not merely a sys- tem of existence, a series of days and nights flowing the one into the other, but that it comes to us with a certain meaning, a character of its own. One word must be taken as the expres- sion of this meaning. The true character of life is well summed up in the word duty : it is that which we express by our word ought — what men ought to do. Duty is the meaning of life. The reason you live is that jou have duty. Do 3'our duty and you are following the law of your life ; neglect your duty and you are wasting your life. So that a man finds this which joins him to himself, and to his fellow-men, so far as his duty touches them, and 18 CAMBRIDGE SEBMONS. by this word duty, or ought, joins himself to God from whom the duty has come. I am bringing you not a lesson of death, but a lesson of life. I want to have the great les- son not something which shall make us afraid of the end, but that which shall make us calm in view of the end, as we look upon any great work which is required of us and are not afraid of it because we know that we are equal to it. We should take up life in this hearty way, and think of it as something which we are wise enough to receive and manly enough to use even to its great fulfllmemt. This word of the prophet at Horeb describes in its two parts the position of every one of us. We may see where he is, and what he feels. He is alone in the mountain, he and his life together, and he feels this : " I am the only one to take care of my life. I have no brother to care for it. I have no servant here to defend it. There is no prophet, there is nobody in all Israel, who feels as I do, or cares whether I live or not. I stand alone, keeping my life. That is, in some measure, the position of every one of us. We are alone. We have our kindred, we have our neighbors and our friends ; but every one stands by him- self, he and his life together. Every one besides, of the hundreds now in this house, might die THE ONE LIFE. 19 before noon, and you live, my friend. They all might be happy and you sad ; they all might be sad and you happy; they all might be right and you wrong; they all might be wrong and you right ; God might approve every one of them and not you. God might be pleased with you and with no one besides. Thus separate does a man stand, with his own body, with his own breath, with his own duty, with his own need, with Iris own record on high and the destiny which follows the opening of the book. This is a commonplace truth, yet it may serve us well. Once for all we have a chance to live. The eternal years are committed to us, with one opportunity, ex- tended by God's grace, to see if we will do God's will ; and if that gracious opportunity is lost, there is no return. The cold waves rush in upon the gray rocks, and break against them, whoever lives, whoever dies , — But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come hack to me. Then there is the other point. " The}' seek my life to take it away." One woman mad and revengeful, sought the prophet's life. How easy it was to flee from her to Horeb ! But a thousand seek our life ; there is no Horeb where we may shield ourselves. There is no wilderness into which we may plunge and escape from — not Jezebel from whom we could hide, but that which we call death. It 20 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. follows us everywhere ; there is no escape for us ; the law of nature is pronounced ; the forces of the world are working against us ; our powers are becoming enfeebled ; steadily we are growing old ; with steady step we are approaching that last hour. The powers of nature and the ordinance of God are seeking our life to take it away. Brethren, there is no help for us. The archers are ready, the bows are drawn, the shaft is pointed ; it is certain that they who are seeking our life will presently take it away. I ask that these things may be accepted not as terrors, but as simple veri- ties upon which we are to fashion our lives. What shall we do, then ? Some have said " If this be so, let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die." Others throw themselves upon despair and say, " What is the use of living?" One often brings up that satire in theory, though seldom in practice, " What is the use of my saving money ? I cannot carry it with me into another world. I must die penniless, like the beggar. What is the use of my trying to get any position ? I have no sooner gained it than I am dead. What is the use of my trying to enjoy life? What matters it ? Presently it will all be over, and I shall go away with my empty hands. More than I have gained I must leave. You tell me that I ought to be industrious and prudent and saving : THE ONE LIFE. 21 will you tell me what is the use of my heap- ing up treasure knowing not who shall gather it, or trying to be anything, or clo anything in the world which to-morrow may forget that I ever lived? The saddest grave That ever tears kept green must sink at last ' Unto the common level of the world ; Then o'er it runs a road. What is the use?" I think there is much to be said on the side of the old preacher who had been a common man and a king, and had touched Hfe on every side, and who wrote, " Vanity of vani- ties, all is vanity." But the Scripture comes to us with quite a different lesson from that, and it speaks to us after this wise: "You are to-morrow to die ; be very careful, therefore, what you eat and drink. You are to-morrow to go out of the world : be very careful, therefore, what you do while you are in the world. To-mor- row you are to give account of that which you are doing here : therefore be very careful, and as this is the only life, the only opportu- nity, guard its moments well. Treasure them; let not life run to waste ; let not any part of life run to waste. It is all the life you have ; it is hurrying away ; guard it ; watch it day and night ; watch it at every point, for it is your o\\\y life, and they are seeking to take 22 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. it away." It is in view of these truths that the grandeur of life comes in. You will notice this ; that a great man's life is great in some emergency, at some special point, or in the presence of a great work. A man who simply goes on his way and does easy things passably well, and is reasonably content, is not one who really masters the world. There comes to every one of us in our different places, and in different degrees according to our strength, some times when we must concentrate all we have upon one issue. And it is in this solitary oppor- tunity that the force of our life comes out, and we put our manhood to the proof, and settle it with ourselves whether we are able and willing to live. It is in this way that it comes to us now; if you feel that you have here many years, and that at any time you can recover the past, and gather up your life and make up for lost time, }^ou will never do very much. The meaning of all this is, that you are standing at a critical point. This may be the turning point of the battle. Lose Waterloo, and it is St. Helena. Fail in this enter- prise, and it is bankruptcy. Be broken down in this work, and it is defeat. Let this one life fail, and it is all over, it is all gone. There is no second chance. Life will never come back. You stand alone with your life. That supreme moment comes when you must determine whether you THE ONE LIFE. 23 can face the one occasion, and in one life win eternity. It calls for all your reason, and all your conscience, and all your strength. If a man is a man, he gains the day as Elijah did. If he is careless and weak, he drifts though life until he drifts to the judgment of the ages that are to come. We are inconsistent. Our views of life do not accord with our practices in life. Thus we sa}^ very truly that the most valuable thing we have is our life. "Millions of money for an inch of time," — it was not one woman only who said that ; ten thousand men and women have said it. Part with everything rather than die — of course everything but honor. It was a remark of one who knew men well, because he had searched them out in malice and cunning, who had gone up and down the earth with his shrewd, envious eyes, when he brought his testimony and laid it before God — " All that a man hath will he give for his life." And our Lord Jesus Christ, when he wished to express the greatest thing which a man would do, said: " Greater love hath no man than this : that a man lay down his life." That is the value of life ; and when Jesus wanted to speak of that great gift of his own, he could find no better word than that, and said : '* I give unto them eternal life." We value life because we enjoy it, and are in the habit of esteeming it highly, 24 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. and hope for future good, and because there is a dread of the unknown. It is a part of our character that there should be this shrinking from the thought of change. A good old man once said to me, "I am not afraid of being dead, but I am afraid of dying." So it comes about in many ways that we think, and think truly, that nothing which we have is so valuable as life. Now see the inconsistency. What do we do with life? This best thing very many utterly waste. They never think upon its value, or upon its meaning, or upon what they are to do with it. They simply let the whole of it run away : it goes to waste. Still more marked is the wasting of parts of it. To think of wasting one of these invaluable days, one hour of the few and fleeting hours of life, when we have not fortune enough in all our house to buy back a single moment! We let the moments go as if we had them in plenty, or could get all we want in the market-place. We part the most easily with that which we value most, and which never can be recovered. It was a most expressive illustration of the matchless English preacher, that men suffer life to slip through their hands as water slips through a marble fountain. He drew a picture of the marble image you have so often seen at the fountain, standing " steadfast, serene, immova- ble," with the water flowing through its lips. THE ONE LIFE. 25 It flows and flows, and the marble never thinks that it is flowing, never seeks to check it, never seeks to govern it. It flows on, and the marble hands never can take it back. So, he says — and how truly, how forcibly — we stand and let our time slip away. An hour and an hour, a day and a day,- a year, and ten years, and twenty } r ears, and fifty years, and sevent3 r years, slip through the marble image which is a marble image still. Is not that true? Where is your yesterday? Did you clutch every moment as it came ? Did you hold it as it sought to get away from you, making sure } T ou had the whole of it, and that it was serving you well ? What has become of your years ? Have they gone as the water through the marble lips ? Let me change the illustration, and say that life should come to us and pass from us as life comes to the growing grain which, springing from the seed, reaches up and takes every moment, takes every breath of air, all the sunshine and rain, all the dewclrops, covetous, eager, watching all the day and sleeping never at night, putting out its hands everywhere, that it may draw in out of time all the merit of time that the husband- man may reap the golden grain which shall reward his pains. Life comes to us somewhat in that way, to be taken up into our thoughts, made a part of ourselves, and put to those high uses wherein it may serve us forever. 26 CAMBRIDGE SERMOMS. What shall I say, then? Allow me to say these things ! What shall I do in life, seeing that I have but one life, and they are seek- ing that to take it away ? I will do these three things : First. I will find the meaning of life. Life is more than a stream of water, or a stream of moments. Conscience and life belong together. What is my life to-day in its relation to my con- science ? I am here with all my powers. What does life mean as it touches my powers ? I am here among my fellow-men. What does my life mean in its relations to my fellow-men? I am here before God and his judgment. W T hat does life mean in its relation to God and the judgment? I must find what it is, what is in it, what is the intent of it, what is the use to be made of it. I must know the meaning of my years. I may have no opinion about currency, about law, about anything else ; but the one thing which I must know is, what it means to me that I am living to-day> and that these hours are slipping through my hands. Secondly, I must take life up and put it to those uses wherein it serves me best. There comes that serious moment winch finds us all, yet is not improved by us all, when a man makes choice of that which he will do in life ; when he chooses, as we say, his profession. Some men choose their profession ; I believe in many cases THE ONE LIFE. 27 the professions choose the men. There are some men who are larger than life and greater than the world, who say, "I will not ask the world what it will let me do ; I will ask myself, I will ask God, what I am made for, and I will choose m}^ work according to my will and the will of God." It is a serious moment when a man makes up his mind whether his seventy years shall be spent here or abroad, whether in getting or giv- ing ; whether in getting a living or in making other people live ; whether they shall be nsed in the service of self, or shall be spent in the service of God. It becomes a weighty matter, and the wise man must determine for himself what he shall do with the grand current of his life and with special parts of it. What shall I do to- day? These hours are winged, and are moving forward. These moments of your time which I am now occupying never will return. I feel the responsibility ; perhaps you do. We must make something out of this hour. Do not be marble statues and let this Sunday forenoon run through your hands. Lay hold of it. Take it and use it. And, then, look on with life. We do not make the most of our college life, for instance, if we think that the day of graduation is all there is. We are studying for the future, reaching on, perhaps with definite plans, perhaps with gen- eral plans ; but still with the future in our mind. All our life is to go forward beyond this 2§ CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. graduation into the endless years. So Christ teaches us. Lay up your treasure in heaven, he sa} T s. " To him that overcometh will I grant to sit with me in my throne." " In my Father's house are many mansions. I will come again and receive you unto myself." There comes finally this other thought, that what we are to do really in this one life of ours is to find God, or let God find us. I wish to say a word to the little children who are here. It is too simple for anybody else to listen to. Will the others think of what I have said while I say this word to the children ? That man who knows best what a watch is good for is the man who made it, and the one who knows best what a life is good for is the One who made it. God made your life. God gives you your time, your thought. What you ought to do God knows best. Do you want to know what to think, what to choose, and how to make the most out of your years ? Do you want to know what you are made for? Well, ask the Maker. Ask God. He will tell you what he wants you to be, what he meant when he gave you this life, and what lie will have you do with it. Oh, God is so good ! lie likes to take us by the hand, and say, " My dear boy ; I want you to do this." When God teaches us. then we get very wise, and when God helps us we are strong, and when God keeps us we are safe. THE ONE LIFE. 29 I ask, then, all who are not too old to be children, to come to God and find the mean- ing of life, and the strength to live it. You will hear a voice calling you ; it will not be in the wind which moves along the streets, and bears the wisdom of this world ; it will not be in the earthquake, which seems to shake society ; it will not be in the fires which men are kindling on the lull-tops. The voice of God comes to us, still, small, reaching our heart, and then whispering steadily, always the same word, " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God ; thou shalt do the things which are pleasing in his sight." Over against this oneness of our life stands the oneness of our God ; and over against this singular, solitary responsibility stands the singu- lar grace of God. Our thoughts are not to be divided, our trust is not to be parted. There is only one name under heaven given among men whereby we can be saved. There is only one law for our life, only one duty ; there is only one Saviour. We need not waste a mo- ment choosing between God and Mammon, be- tween Christ and the world, between Christ and ourselves. Life is too hurried, life is too pre- cious for us to have two Redeemers between whom our wandering thoughts must roam. We have one God, one life, one Saviour, one Judge, one eternity. Among these special and singular days do we make up our thoughts and plans ; 30 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. and when we commit our life to God, lie takes our purposes into his purposes ; he takes our life in to his keeping and guides us by his counsel. I hear this morning the moving of the chariot wheels of God, the chariot of fire and the horses of fire. They are coming this way. They stopped in the last week at one of our homes, and a saintly spirit went up into the rest of God. The chariot of fire and the horses of fire, they will stop at the door of the men who love God and have used this one life worthily, and lie who is ready shall ascend into the chariot and rise into the city of God which is forever, unto the everlasting youth, into the eternal years ; for God has taken his life that he may give it to him in the glories of immortality. II. WHO LOVED ME. Scripture Lesson : Romans viii : 14-39. Text : Who loved me, and gave himself for me. Galatians, ii : 20. THERE was an apostle who delighted to speak of himself as " that disciple whom Jesus loved. "' It was not that man who wrote the words which have now been read to you. Yet quite as much as his brother did St. Paul exult in the love which Christ had for him. Indeed, these words are a better expression of love than those which are used by the beloved disciple. St. John seems almost to shut out others ; " that disciple," he says, as if there were no others whom Jesus loved. This apostle is broader in his thought. He draws in the love of God to himself; he feels how much more it is to him than it is to the world ; he takes it to himself as if he stood alone ; yet he does not shut out the world from the affection which Christ offers to all for whom he gives himself. The words of St. Paul are broader, again, in that they 31 32 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. contain the method in which this love of Christ manifests itself. When St. John called himself " that disciple whom Jesus loved," or at the period in which he places those words, the great manifestation of the love of Christ had not been made. When St. Paul wrote, Christ had given himself to the cross, and the love had mani- fested itself in its own way. Therefore he wrote more fully as he rejoiced to write, " Who loved me and gave himself for me." Indeed, the expres- sions which St. Paul uses touching the love of Christ are all of the strongest character. He finds words insufficient as he rises into the vast regions which are beyond language, and beyond thought even. Thus, in his mind, the love of Christ while it is something to be known, " pass- etli knowledge," and reaches infinitely far away. Again, this love of Christ which comes to him is not something which touches his life, and with which he has no communion ; but it is something to which his own heart is so bound that it is not possible for anything in this world, or in any world, to part the two asunder. Again, this love which Christ gives to him is a love which not only brings him the victory, but, going beyond that, bestows more than the victory, for, " we are more than conquerors through him that loved us." And again, this love which Christ has for him is not only a love which incites him to good deeds, and inclines him to do those tilings which please WHO LOVED ME. 33 Christ, but it comes with its constraining and compelling force, until he feels himself taken in hand by a strong power, and carried on to that which Christ requires of him. We have but to read these thoughts wherewith St. Paul expands the love of Christ, this sentence in which he declares that Christ loved him, to find how marvel- lous is this conception, how profoundly it is settled in his soul, and how wonderfully it is governing his life. If we ask when it was that this love was given to him, the thought rises yet more in our minds as we remember that this love of Christ was before Christ died for him, and when this apostle was not his friend. The man was indifferent to him ; the indifference grew into hostility ; the hostility broke into violence of the most cruel and relentless kind. Yet Christ gave himself for one who did not love him, and continued to give himself, and give his affection, when St. Paul had become the violent persecutor. We find this affection coming to him, and working out for him this help through the cross, at a time when, if we are to trust our own thoughts, he might be reached in some other way. For St. Paul was an honest and amiable man, an upright man, and a religious man after the cus- tom of his fathers, and very devout and very scrupulous in his religion; and it was when he was religious, and when he was honest, that Christ loved him and gave himself for him. His 34 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. life had turned aside; lie was misunderstanding Christ. What was needed more than that the Spirit should come to him and inform him in a quiet way who Christ was, and, working within the recesses of his soul, turn his thoughts towards " Christ, and his life into the service of Christ? We are somewhat startled when we find that the want of this religious man is not met but by the Christ ; that the want of this upright man is not met by any instruction or any spiritual power, but only by the compassion of Christ who loved him. 11 1, who am careful in my religion beyond all men — a Hebrew of the Hebrews — I claim this mercy of the Christ, who, that he might save me, loved me and gave himself for me." I think we can make a creed out of these words, and a very large creed, and a very deep and rich creed, whose articles might run somewhat in this way : I believe in the Lord Jesus Christ who is strong enough to give himself for me. I believe in my necessity that the Son of God should give himself for me. I believe in the love of Christ which impelled him to give himself for me. I believe in a godly life which can be lived by the faith of the Son of God " who loved me and gave himself for me." I believe in a destiny of everlast- ing wealth and eternal blessedness which will be given to me for the sake of him " who loved me and gave himself for me." How large a confession it is ; how profound an utterance of his acknowl- WHO LOVED ME. 35 edgment! What an expression of his reverence, of his faith, of his contrition, of his hope, of his rejoicing ! The whole expansion of his thought, the whole love of Christ, is condensed into this sin- gle sentence which spreads before us like the light of heaven, " Who loved me, and gave himself for me." It was very natural that the working out of this principle in the mind of the apostle should be what it was. Even without reading his history we know what must come of this which he has here told us. These three things must come, certainly. It must come to pass, first, that he will love the one who has loved him and given himself for him. There is but one thing which the loving heart is content with giving, and that is love. There is but one thing which the loving heart is content to receive, and that is love. It is an absurdity to offer anything less : it is an injustice to receive anything less. Even in our common relationships here there is but one thing which matches love, and that is love. A marriage between love on the one hand and money on the other is an abomination in the sight of God and man. Friendship which is between affection on the one hand and service on the other is a mockery and a shame. Piety which is between God's love on the one hand and a man's regard for the commandments on the other is not rational ; is not acceptable to the man's conscience, and is not received in the court of Heaven. But 36 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. one thing fits to love ; but one thing contents love, either in the receiving or in the giving, and that is love itself. It is not until one comes to give this answer that he is very deeply conscious of that to which he is making his response. I suppose the reason that St. John applies to him- self the words which, so far as we have any record, no one else applied to him, " that disciple whom Jesus loved," was that he had a constant convic- tion that he was that disciple who loved Jesus. How much Peter loved he did not know; how much Andrew and Thomas loved he could not tell ; but he knew by every beating of his heart, by all the force of his thought and his love, that he loved Christ, and by that token he knew that he was the disciple whom Jesus loved. For it is inevitable when this man comes into the conscious- ness that Christ loves him, that his love should flow out as nothing else could draw it; that he should know there is nothing less that he can give ; there is nothing less that Christ will receive. Then there will come from this, in the second place, a trusting. It is impossible that one should know Christ and love him without trusting him, because he seeks to be depended upon according to that which he comes to do, and that which he promises to do, and that which we need to have him do. We cannot feel that he will fail us. The teaching of the apostle comes with force, and always awakens one response : u God who WHO LOVED ME. 37 gave his Son for ns will give us everything that we need. Christ who gives himself for us will not withhold anything we need. It is enough that he beholds the necessity. Even there our Lord him- self left it : " Your Father knoweth ; " that is enough. Your Father loveth; that is enough. Therefore the man trusts him for the present and for the future. It is out of this consciousness of a common love that he comes into that sublime confidence : " I know whom I have believed." Well, what is he, who is he ? Who is this whom you believe ? "I believe in him who loved me and gave himself for me ; and I know that I shall receive a crown of righteousness in that day, for he who will give me the crown has already given me himself." He knows there can be no wasting of this love. Feeling within that his love for Christ can never change, he is yet more persuaded that the love of Christ can never change. Indeed, he might write out his own thought in the words of that English woman who has sung so well of the permanence of the love of Christ, the continuance of his affection for us : " Oh, never is Loved oxce, Thy word, thou Victim-Christ, misprized friend; Thy cross and curse may rend ; But having loved, Thou lovest to the end! " And he would make answer, still in the words of this sweet singer : CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. " Those never loved, Who dream that they loved once." I think that by all which is true in the sacred affections of our hearts, we believe that if there is anything about us which will last, it is our love for that which is lovely. The old doctrine, so pleasant even in the sound of its words, of the perseverance of the saints is nothing but the doctrine of the permanence of love. As long as Christ's love is true and fresh, they who love him once love him forever. You ask the assurance that we shall enjoy his presence forever : it is that we love him here to-day. I know that it seems sometimes as if love had passed away. It may be because it never existed; it was a mere emotion not worthy of that God-word, love. It may be that it is merely obscured, as sometimes that which is recent comes in to cover that which is dearer to our hearts. Still, the singer is true, and the Christ is true, and your hearts are true: " Those never loved who dream that they loved once." They who feel within them the assurance of an unchanging love for Christ need no argu- ment to prove to them the unchanging love of Christ for them; and upon that they rest their hope in quiet trust. Then there follows a third thing, of course, and that is, the pleasing Christ. For the love at once seeks to do that which will gratify the one who is loved, recognizing this out of its own expe- WHO LOVED ME. 39 rience, that there is nothing so exacting as love; that we always demand the most of those we love the best; that wc are always the most solicitous for the welfare of those who are dearest to ns. You are more anxious that 3-our child should do his best than that my child should do his best. You always hold up the highest standard before him who is nearest to you, and expect from him the most truthfulness, the most kindness, and the most devotion. Yet on the other hand there is noth- ing so small, if it be heartily given, that it is not dear to you — the flower which your child has picked from the wayside, the bright stone which he brings in out of the road, the simple utterance of his affec- tion, the simple clasping of his arms about your neck. There is nothing too small for love to take, there is nothing too great for love to ask. One who knows this, finding it in the love of Christ for him and his love for Christ, at once feels that nothing can be too great that he shall do ; that he can count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus his Lord, and count all things easy which shall please him who pleased not himself. The apostle has come here upon the law of life. The one principle of life is stated in the strong and precious words before us. First, this is in God's life, for God is love. God is more than love ; God is light also. God's love is not centred and restrained within his own heart; it 40 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. must go out, or it is not love ; it must give itself, or it is not love. He is not content with living and moving eternally in the sphere of his own affection, but his love must reach out to men, to every one who lives. Hence, if God loves men he must go out to men ; he must meet them where they are ; he must meet them in their necessities and do for them what love requires. If at any time it becomes necessary, he must put himself in sacrifice for men. I wish that we might see the marvellous reaching out of this simple truth. It was the fine saying of a man whom we all delight to honor, who never stood with more majesty than when recently among missionaries and the friends of missions he declared the sufficiency of the love of God, and uttered that sentence which might well be committed to our memory as a fact of history and a prophecy for all that is to be. " Christianity proclaims," he said, " in three words, of one syllable each, the grandest discovery ever made, the sublimest truth ever uttered." There are but three words in the lan- guage which answer that description. There are but three words in the Bible which can come to your minds in that connection — the grand, divine, eternal truth that k< God is love." It is God's love that is his life. Take it away, and you have taken away so much from God ; you have taken God from God. The principle of God's life within himself, the principle of God's life among the WHO LOVED ME. 41 angels and among men, is the principle of a love which goes out and finds men, and blesses them according to their need. Hence, if one asks in Gethsemane why it is not possible that the sac- rifice may pass away, there is but one answer. If it is a matter of will, it can pass away. Why can- not the cup pass unless it be drained by the Christ? Simply because those whom God loves need to have it drained. Love will stop at noth- ing. If men can be blessed by seeing the grapes upon the vine, let it be so ; if they can be blessed with maxims of ethics and philosophy, let it be so. The time has come when those whom God loves can only be blessed in that cup ; therefore it is not possible that the cup should pass away until it has been drained. And the reason it is not pos- sible is, that God is love. We come again upon this principle of life in our Lord. Jesus Christ, who is here in the world as the embodiment of the thought : " God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son." Christ so loved the world that he came into it, and went about with ministries of mercy, until at last he stretched out his hands upon the cross, lov- ing men and giving himself for men. Take away the love from Christ and what have you left ? Possibly the teaching, perhaps the purity of his life ; perhaps an example white as marble, and moral maxims cold as snowflakes and as little nourishing to the heart. The one thing which 4-2 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. makes Christ clear to you, the Saviour, the Com- forter, the Helper, is that the life of Christ is love. Hence, obviously, when you come to the Chris- tian life the principle is the same. There is but one life in Heaven and in earth, and that is God's life. The life that we live in the flesh is the life of God in us ; and when we come to the Christian life, it is the life of Christ. There never was but one Christian life, and that is Christ's life. I will not play with words. If one chooses to .say that this is a Christian nation, and that men can be Chris- tians though they do not believe in Christ, very well. They are not the Christians of the New Testament. You know the testimony of the poor Chinaman at the West who found himself abused, insulted in the streets, beaten and stoned, and who wrote back the piteous tale in his simplicity : "The men who did it are Christians, but they are not Jesus-Christians." Now the only " Jesus-Chris- tians " in the world are the Christians in whom Jesus is. It is only as Christ is in us that we are Christians ; it is only as Christ's life is in us that we have the Christian life. Even as it flowed out from the hands and the lips and the spirit of Jesus of Nazareth must it flow out in our lives, in all that we do and in all that we are, as we go our way through the world. It comes to take us up and control us and exalt us forever — the one Christian life. I can come to Christ as the greatest of teachers and sit calmly down to receive WHO LOVED ME. 43 his instructions ; I can come to him and mark the purity and simplicity of his example ; I can follow him until I am attracted by the charity and benev- olence of his spirit; but I have not found the Christ. No man whose heart was ever full of the love of Christ was content to say, " Who loved me and taught me the Sermon on the Mount ; " " Who loved me and healed the sick and raised the dead ; " " Who loved men and taught them by a holy example that he could do what they could never do." No Christian heart talks in this way. It is the heart far away from him which says it ; it is the Christian, perhaps, but it is not the " Jesus-Christian." " Thou shalt call his name Jesus, for he shall teach men to pay their debts," — who said it ? Never the Christ, never the disciple, never the man whom Jesus loved. u Thou shalt call his name Jesus, for he shall save his people from their sins." Now we know what St. Paul means: "Who loved me and gave " — not his words, not his miracles, — " who gave him- self for me." I gather up his teachings and all which is matchless and precious in his life, in this one gift ; for when I have my friend, I have my friend's house, I have his words, I have his ex- ample, I have his love ; I get all when I get him ; I get everything which any one else gets, and I get more when I get the Christ who gave him- self. Taking himself in his hands, he gave him- self over to me and became mine, my own, my 44 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. own Saviour. I do not believe that I shall ever learn, even from the Sermon on the Mount, the spirit which will make me kneel down before my Judas and wash his feet. If ever in God's grace I become able to do that, it will be because there stands before me the Christ girded with a towel, and with a basin of water in his hands, and love in his heart. I do not believe that I can ever go in self-forgetful devotion through the world because I know that Christ fed the multitudes and taught sweet lessons of charity. I do not believe that I can ever lose my life for Christ's sake while I content myself with gathering up his parables and taking their blessed lessons to my heart. But at the cross there is this spirit ; in the cross I seek it ; from the cross I take it. " I can do all things," do you say, " for I know that Christ stilled the tempest on the sea of Galilee, and I know that he said we should render unto Ctesar the things that are Caesar's, and unto God the things that are God's ? " Oh ! do it if you can. If I am ever able, I believe if you are ever able, to make up a Christian life in the world, it will be under the constraint of that word which this man wrote :. " I can do all things through Christ," " who loved me and gave himself for me." I think we have found many instances besides those which are recorded in Holy Scripture where this principle rules. We need not go out of our own homes to find the controlling power of WHO LOVED ME. 45 love, if not the freshness and the strength of it ; the love which makes a man toil unto old age for those whom he loves ; which makes a mother watch through the weary nights, nor mark the hours, for those she loves ; the pure sparks from the glowing heart of God's affection. If we look at those who have stood out with marked lives of usefulness and devotion, we find this principle. That missionary mother separating from her chil- dren on a foreign shore, sending them away from her home that they might receive the nurture of her native land, and as the boat pushes out which is never to come back, lifting up her heart to say, "I do this for thee, Jesus," has a love like the love of Christ ; "I do this for thee, Jesus, for thou hast left thy Father's house for me," that is her thought. Then there are those words of that noble man who wrote to his children in England, out of the heart of Africa, " Tell them I have left them for the love of Jesus, and they must love him too." Hear his cry, " O divine Love, I have not loved Thee strongly, deeply, warmly enough." " O Jesus, fill me with Thy love now, and, I beseech Thee, accept me, and use me a little for Thy glory." There is but one force which can do this ; there is but one power which bears men into this divine usefulness; and the power lies within this brief sentence : " I do this for him who loved me and gave himself for me." 46 VAMjiiiijJijrJii oAtltJ&VJX 8, Friends, the lesson for every one of us is this — not for those without the Church more than for those within the Church ; it is the great lesson for all men : — that if we are to live the life which is worthy of us, it must be as we receive the life of the Christ, and the Christ at his best. When your life moving up blends with his life, when the love of Christ comes into } T our heart to take possession of it, there can be but one result. It will save you, for Christ gives him- self to save sinners ; it will bring you up into the Christly life, for Christ comes, the vine, to give his life unto the branches ; it will govern your thoughts, your purposes, your steps ; it will exalt your life and sanctify and glorify your spirit ; it will bring you at last into that grand fulfilment which the beloved disciple saw and could not de- scribe : " We shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is." Whosoever sees Christ as he is, sees Christ loving him and giving himself for him. Oh ! see it, friends ; look until you see it ; look until the sun goes down ; look until the morning comes ; wait, gaze, look, look with longing eyes until you see it ! When that thought becomes your thought, when it takes hold upon you as a part of your life, then will God be glorified in you, and you will live in the faith of the Son of God who loved you and gave himself for you. Let me turn as I close to the teaching of Christ himself — uttered not in Syriac syllables, nor WHO LOVED ME. 47 in English sentences, which we might not under- stand, and whose power and beauty we might not perceive — the words of Christ spoken in this body of Christ which is here set forth again before us. There is Christ. Do you want to come close to him? You will find him there. He said that we must eat his flesh to have life ; we must drink his blood to have life ; we have not seen him until we have seen him on the cross ; we have not found his love until we have found his love cruci- fying itself ; we have not entered into his grace until his pierced hands have held us against the bosom of his divine, redeeming love. They say sometimes in Scotland, in their quaint phrase, that the Lord's table is tt fenced." You do not see the fence here ; there is none — not a wall, not a door open or shut. There is but one guard around that table : a circle of light stream- ing out from the bread and from the wine, a circle of light around it, made of these divine words : " Who loved me, and gave himself for me." You must not think to step over it, to pass under it, to re- move it. You draw near, and stooping down, you lift it in your hands, you hold it to your heart, and thus you come to the Lord's table, which is the table of your Saviour, and he gives you to eat and drink with him. There is no fence about the Church. On its threshold lies a single line : " Who loved me, and gave himself for me." Take it up in your hands and hold it in your heart and the 48 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. Church is open. The door of Heaven is always open. Across the threshold of Heaven there lies one line of light. You take it into your life and pass on with it to the throne, carrying it in your rejoicing, "Who loved me, and gave himself for Oh, dearly, dearly has he loved, And we must love him too, And trust in his redeeming blood, And try his works to do. III. CHOOSE WHOM YE WILL SERVE. Scripture Lesson : S. Matt, vii : 13-29. Text : Choose you this day whom ye will serve." Joshua xxiv : 15. I MUST ask you to read the last two chapters of this Book of Joshua, to recall to your minds the circumstances under which these words were spoken. Joshua was an old man ; his life as a chieftain and a statesman was about to end. He was giving his last words to the people. He did not carry them through the details of the life which they were to live ; he did not give them commandments arranged in systematic order; he brought them rather to one point where they were to stand, and, standing there, or moving from that point towards God, they were to make up their life. He did not mean that they were to choose between one God and another, although the form of his words might suggest that. He knew there was not a man among them who would choose the gods of the Amorites, or the gods en the other side of the river, instead of 49 50 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. Jehovah. What he did was to state in a strong way their duty and privilege ; that they should choose as he had done ; that they should choose the Lord to be their God. Moses had been placed in somewhat similar circumstances on the day of the worship of the golden calf, when, standing before the people, he cried with a voice of indignation and reverence, " Who is on the Lord's side? Let him come unto me." Later than this, in the days of Baal, Elijah cried with the same spirit: "How long halt ye between two opinions ? If the Lord be God, follow him." It is evident that this mode of presenting the claim which God makes upon us is somewhat dif- ferent from that in which it is usually presented. This form of words has very much passed our of use, and the thought which lies within the words has been in a measure superseded. We are not saying to-day, " Choose you whom ye will serve ; " we are saying, " choose you whom ye will trust." We have passed over from this idea of a life which is to be lived for God to a life in which God is to take us up and carry us on, promising us Heaven, alluring us with pleasures all the way, and indulging our wishes at every point, if so be, in our condescension, we will consent to be saved. I think that it is for lack of the strong element which the Scriptures always present, that it is man's duty to obey God, our piety has fallen so much upon inefficiency ; that it lacks nerve ;* that even CHOOSE WHOM YE WILL SERVE. 51 our belief of the truth grows feeble and our obedi- ence of the truth feebler ; that our devotion to God is an uncertain thing, and our service almost as variable as our states of mind. We need to have breathed into our thoughts a feeling of duty ; a sense of something which we must do ; of a life which we are to live. I gather it all up into this saying of the old Hebrew statesman in which we are called upon to choose whom we will serve ; to choose God and to serve him continually. While the thought of trusting Christ and the offers of his grace appear so much in the New Testament, this thought of serving God is the underlying principle throughout. Our Lord never, in all his offer of rest and peace and mercy, lost sight of this. What was his most common idea of that life into which he called men ? It was life in a kingdom. " The kingdom of God," "The kingdom of heaven," were his common phrases. Men are to live under the eye of a king and to obey him to the end. So, when he presented the kingdom of heaven with all its delights under the image of a marriage feast, it was not a feast spread by the wayside where men were working ; it was not a table laid in the thickets where they might be reclining; it was a feast within the gates of the king's house. If any man ate of the feast, he came up out of the highways, passed through the door, entered into the place where the table was spread, and there took his place. Christ knew 50 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. nothing of any joy for a man outside of the king's house. So it was with the parable of the prodigal son, in which our Lord did not promise certain joys to be had by remaining in the " f ar coun- try ; " he did not teach that there were for this wretch a robe, and a ring, and a kiss, and a fatted calf, and all the blessings of life, while he was by his own act an exile and wanderer, or that there was one of them anywhere but where his father was. If he was to be blessed as he wished, he must go home, and within his father's house he would find what was there alone — his father's blessing and his grace. Indeed, the whole thought of the redemption of Christ rests upon this. The cross of Christ springs indeed out of God's love, but it holds fast to this idea of the obedience of the soul to God. Christ bids men leave their boats and follow him — leave their lives and follow him. The order of events is like this : First, God and his will ; then men obeying God's will and living in happiness and holiness ; then men breaking with God's will and passing into sinfulness ; then God coming to ransom men out of this state of sin and misery, and to bring them back into, the state in which they were before, establishing them again in integrity that they might have the blessing of God. If we view this life, as we sometimes do, as a road, men have stepped off the road and wandered away from it. When God comes to them he does not point CHOOSE WHOM YE WILL SERVE. 53 to a new path, or make a new highway for them ; he brings them back into the old road, that, walking thereon, they may go to the end to which they would have gone if they had never turned away. This truth of obedience is in entire harmony with the tender thoughts applied to God. If we speak of God as love, we have asserted the strongest of all reasons why we should serve him. If we call God our father, we have declared at once the very reason why we ought to obey him and seek his pleasure in all things. If we speak of the love we have for God, w^e have declared the very principle which will make us do his will. The soul of obedience is love, and the body of love is obedience. Passing from these primary considerations, let us notice a few things. In the first place, this : that the law of God, which is given to us to be obej'ed, is the expression of the nature of God. There is a great difference between the law of God and the law of men. The law of God is a necessary law ; it is simply his own nature opening itself out. It may very well happen, that a king may come to the throne and find the constitution and legislation all prepared. He may not like the constitution, but he must administer it ; he may not approve the laws, but he must administer the laws. He is held to this although his own life and his own spirit may be at variance with the laws all the way through. It is not at all so with 54 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. God. God is before all constitutions and all statutes and all principles of life ; and these prin- ciples are but the expression of himself. God is love : God's love utters itself. God is holiness ; this holiness makes itself known in holy desires and holy commandments for the children of men. It is very much like the sun and its light. The sun gives light because it is the sun; it is the nature of it to shine ; and God gives command- ments because it is his nature to give them. Do you not, even as earthly fathers and mothers, tell your children what you know they ought to do? That is a little of the same principle which makes God tell you and me what we ought to do, because this is the right thing to do ; because this is the pleasant thing to do; because this is the profitable thing to do, but above all because this is the right thing to do. So long as God is God he must tell us what to do ; so long as God is hol} r , he will tell us holy things to do ; so long as he is God, we ought to do those things which he gives us to do. Indeed, it is simply out of the question that we should have God without having his commandments. To return to the figure of the sun, you do not get the benefit of the sun un- less you get its light. Without that the orb yonder in the heavens is little to you. They have been reckoning up its distance, whether it be ninety- two or ninety-five millions of miles away. It might be a million times further than it is ; it is CHOOSE WHOM YE WILL SERVE. 55 nothing to you, unless it gives you something and you take that something. It is little to you that there is a God yonder, unless something comes down from him so that you can take hold of it ; un- less his law comes down, and you know what to do ; unless his strength comes down, and you are able to do it. Without the gift, it is to small purpose that yonder shines the sun, or yonder reigns the God. God gives these laws which are a part of himself. He speaks, and it is commandment ; he looks, and it is statute ; he wishes, and it is law; he brings his great desires and counsels among men that we may take them and make our life out of them. It is simply God out of his own nature breathing his nature, as the perfume comes from the flower, as light comes from the sun, as fruit comes from the tree, as goodness comes from the good, breathing his own nature in com- mandments down among the children of men. " Choose you," says this old Hebrew statesman, " choose you to take the light of the sun; choose you to take the fruit of the tree ; choose you to take the nature of God which along these lines of light comes down to you for your guidance and your comfort." It is not meant, again let me say, that we should choose between God and another. I suppose that to none of us does this choice present itself to-day in any tangible shape. How- ever men may reason it out, whatever we may say in our homilies and exhortations, I presume it 56 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. is not true of any one here to-day that he has chosen deliberately to serve any one except God. He may be serving some one else, but that ever he has said to any one else in heaven or earth, " Thou art my God and I will serve thee," is not to be believed. Yet it may come to pass prac- tically that a man does serve another. We are not to consider here the relative value of this or that which he serves. My only interest to-day, brethren, is to beg you to choose God and to serve him. Whether it be Baal, or Ashtaroth, or the gods of the Amorites, is comparatively a small matter. Take any one according to }^our fancy, if from among these you are to make your choice. But with all earnestness I pray you to choose the only one whose right it is to reign ; the only one whom you have a right to serve. The choice of a principle and method of life ma}' be made by a natural and simple process. I may consult simply my own pleasure. I may say, " I will do those things which I wish to do." I am very likely to do this carelessly, floating on from day to daj r , planning to-clay what I want to do to-day, waking to-morrow morning and planning again what I want to do in that day. In all I stand up as the object of my own thought and care. I may do this wilfully, or I may do it without a conscious volition. I may choose to do what other men wish to have me do ; I may do this deliberately, or I may do it CHOOSE WHOM YE WILL SERVE. 57 out of an easy good nature which tries from hour to hour to please my friends. I may choose to do what others are doing; J may do this delib- erately, or I may do it by that force of imitation which makes me, in my amiability, follow in the steps of others. I may combine these. On some days I may serve myself and on some my fellows. I may vary these methods, or unite them into one, so that I can hardly tell whether I am living for myself or for humanity. There are many varieties of this idolatry. Against all of them stands out the one who alone is God, and the exhortation of the preacher is, " Choose the Lord God and serve him." When a man has done this it is very evident that he stands in the way of righteousness and of blessing. I have said little thus far of that which we term Christianity ; I have said nothing about coming to Christ to be saved. Yet I wish to recall this single point, and I pray that this may be noticed now, before we pass to anything else. Choose God, Jehovah, the maker of heaven and earth, your maker, your father ; choose him and serve him. Determine with yourself this : " Whatever God asks, whatever is his command- ment, I will obe}*. Heaven and earth may pass away, I will be true to this. Come sunshine or storm, come wealth or poverty, come life or death, I will be true to God." They said to Napoleon when he was before a certain castle, "Sire, if you 58 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. attempt to take this castle it will cost you the lives of ten thousand men." " Then I will give the lives of ten thousand men." So choose God. Men will tell you that it will change your life : very well. They will tell you that it will make you pray : that it Avill bring you into the church : very well. If it cost you ten thousand lives, pay them for your own life ten thousand times over. It is this for which I plead. Choose God always to be served, wherever he leads, whatever he forbids, whatever he requires. The man who shall do this stands with his face towards God, and with his life towards God; he stands in the way in which he shall be blessed. Very certain is it that God will come to this man ; that God's grace will find him. He may never have heard of Christ, but he will find Christ, or Christ will find him. The love of God looking upon him where he stands, will come flowing out of the heavens until it gathers about his feet and takes him up and he is borne away on the grace of Christ. There can be nothing which will commend a man more to the grace of God than the single purpose to do the will of God. The man who stands facing God will be found of God. I believe the great reason why men do not find God is because they are not looking for him. They say, "I will find his mercy; I will find blessing at his hands; and after a time I will determine to serve him ; as if they said, " I will take a voyage to Europe after I have CHOOSE WHOM YE WILL SERVE. 59 wandered over the mountains of Switzerland." There is bat one thing first in any right life ; there is but one thing first in any Christian career ; and that is to choose God and pledge the life to him. Then God comes to help and save the man. The good shepherd seeketh the sheep upon the mountains to bring him down to the fold. If the shepherd be going one way, and the sheep, even with the purpose to find the fold, be going another way, they may never meet. If the shep- herd is seeking the sheep, and the sheep is seeking the fold, and seeking the fold is going directly towards the shepherd, they will meet; they are sure to meet. If Christ goes out from God to find a man, and the man is coming towards God, they will come together. Two trains going in opposite directions on the same track are certain to meet. Christ coming from God and man going towards God are sure to meet. Therefore I say, set your face towards God and you are facing the approaching Christ. Indeed, if we take Christ's work itself, we find that the object of his life in the world was to bring men into this obedi- ence to God. We have not estimated his work at all correctly or thoroughly unless we see that the outcome of it all was to bring men to God. It is a thoroughly false idea that Christ came into the world simply to make men happy, or siniplj- to put men in one place rather than another. Christ came into the world to bring men back where CO CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. they always ought to have beeu ; and he will never be content till he has done this ; and he will never have saved a man until he brings him there. You may throw yourself into the water and drown, trying to save a drowning man ; but all your pains go for nothing so long as the man remains under the water. I say it rever- ently, the Son of God may die for sinners, but so long as men continue in their sin he has died in vain. The redemption of Christ may be able to save men from sin unto the uttermost, but so long as men will continue to sin they are not saved. It is only as we come where we are right with God that we are saved ; and when we are there, nothing can harm us. Do you not mark that the shepherd when he goes forth for the sheep, and finds him upon the mountains, does not there pity him, weep over him, tearing his own hands upon the thorns to make a pretty little fold for him, and shelter him and feed him with the scant herbage which grows in that frigid clime, trying to make the sheep happy there ? I believe that is the idea which a great many people have of Christ's work : that he comes down into this poor, broken world and tries to make us contented here ; tries to take off a little of the cold, the sin, the unrighteousness and unbelief; whereas Christ never stays upon the mountain longer than is necessary ; he will not leave the lamb upon the mountain, but lake him in his arms or on ,his CHOOSE WHOM YE WILL SERVE. 61 shoulder and carry him down into the fold, and never stop until he is there. He is no friend to the prodigal, who, finding him down in the " far country," says, " Oh ! man, this is a hard life ; this feeding swine . is unprofitable ; I will give you a more comfortable situation near hy ; I will give you better wages. You are clothed with rags : I will give you good clothing ; you are hungry : I will feed you " — he is no friend who says that. The only one who can befriend the prodigal is he who says, " Oh ! man, come home. No matter what you do here ; no matter how you fare here ; no matter whether you are in rags and hungry, or not ; you are wretched ; you are wrong here ; the only kindness I can do you is to carry you home to your father's house." That is the work of the Lord Jesus Christ. I think you know that I believe in the kind- ness and love of Christ for men ; but to make men contented in disobedience is not his kind- ness. To make a man happy before he has chosen to serve God, it is not right; it is not kind. It would be almost working against God himself if Christ tried to make us contented before we have chosen God that we may serve him. If Christ makes our homes happy without God, that we may be contented in them ; if he soothes our sin, and takes off the grosser form of it, so that our conscience may not trouble us ; he is no longer kind, for he is keeping us away from 62 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. God; keeping us still guilty; leaving us still lost. He is not kind until, dying for us, he takes us to bring us back to God. The work of Christ is that you and I may choose God and serve him. What shall we do, then, we who know Christ's name to-day ? I have spoken of those who might come to God not knowing Christ. We know Christ : what are we to do ? Manifestly, we are to use what we know. If } r ou know where a man is, then act as if you knew where he is. There are times when you want to find some one and you do not know where he is. You look for him in one house and another, one town and another, one country and another ; but if you know where the man is, you go directly there. If you do not know where God is, search the heavens and earth until you find him. Suppose you want to find what a man's will is : you conjecture, you inquire, you ask in vain in a hundred places ; but if you can find the man, by asking him you find what his will is. That is the right thing to do. We want to come to God using what we know ; not setting aside our knowledge of Christ and his truth; not setting aside the Gospel as if we were to come to God without the Gospel. We take what we know. And what do we know? Why, we know that God is a great deal nearer to us than the stars are ; we know that God is here in Christ his Son seeking to reconcile us unto himself. We want to find God, we who know CHOOSE WHOM YE WILL SERVE. 63 Christ. Then what shall we do ? Why, "come where God is closest to us, and that is in Christ. Find God where he is. Suppose I want to find you at this moment, because I have a message which I must give to you at once. Should I not be foolish if I should go to your house and call for you tnere, when I know all the time that you are here? Should I not be more foolish, if, try- ing to find God, I pass away from God when he is here, in Christ his Son, and look far away for him, wandering over the long path and seek- ing him at the distant door of Heaven ? We shall find God where he is nearest. I want to know the will of God because I want to do it : where shall I find it ? Christ declares the will of God and illustrates it in his life. I come to him and learn it from him. Or, I want to find the grace of God ; I want to know whether I, who have wandered away, can come back ; whether I, who have done wrong, can be forgiven. I ask the astronomers on their nightly watch- towers to tell me what the Pleiades say, or what is written on the bands of Orion. Why should I not reverence the astronomer? But what are the stars telling ? What can any one say of the grace of God save God himself? God comes with his grace and Christ declares it, and I come to him because he knows, and I want to know, whether I can be forgiven, and how I can be forgiven. Knowing Christ I come to Christ, because in 64 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. Christ God is nearest, because in Christ God's will is most plainly declared, because in Christ alone God's grace is manifest, and finding him I find God. This, then, becomes for us who are intelligent men to-day, who know of Christ and have his gospel, the one thing to do : to choose to serve God, and to choose God who comes to us in Christ, whose will is declared by Christ, whose grace in Christ works out our redemption. But let me ask you to notice again, that this redemption in itself is not the place where we are to stop. It is to bear us on to something else. It is not the final stage ; it is not our rest ; it carries us on to something beyond it. Christ came to bring men to God ; and not until he has brought them to God and given them to God — God's ran- somed children, who are henceforth to live with him and obey him — has he done his work. I know that beautiful line of the hymn ; I would not take a note from its divine and blessed melody. It is true, but, like most single lines, it is but a fragment of the truth : — Simply to thy cross I cling. Yes ; with the arms of a clinging faith. I shrink from going on, lest any one should think I do not make enough of that which is the heart and life of piety, the simple trust in Christ and him crucified. But what did Christ ever say, what did the apos- tles ever teach, which warrants you in saying, CHOOSE WHOM YE WILL SERVE. 65 " All I have to do is to cling to the cross ? " What did Jesus say about the cross? He said, "Take it up and go about obeying the will of God." Cling to the cross, not as one who is weary and is there finding rest alone ; not merely as one who is guilty and is there finding pardon alone. Cling to it, doing the will of God. Where would the world have been to-day if John, and Peter, and Paul had been content to cling to the cross and do nothing more? You have God to serve, and a man cannot do all the will of God sitting in a sanctuary, kneeling in a closet, clasp- ing his arms around a sacred tree, or laying his cheek against the wood that is red with the blood of the Christ of God. By Christ alone are we saved, and Christ we are to follow. Cling to the cross, but not " simply." Cling to the cross, but go about clinging to it. Cling to the cross, but obey God while you cling, following his command- ments with your deeds, glorifying him upon the earth, finishing the work which he has given you to do. Cling to the cross until the eternal glory comes ; but while you cling, follow Christ whither- soever he leads you. If we are not to rest upon redemption, but to go through it to that which is beyond, still less are we to rest upon virtue. Let us pause long enough to pay a tribute of sincerest respect to honesty, truth-telling, charity, virtue. But should a man rest in these ? Is it enough for a man that he be 66 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. honest with all the men who live on streets running east and west, though he be not honest with men living on streets running north and south? Is it honest for a man to do what he ought with his neighbor, and not to do what he ought with his God? Is it right for a man to love his mother and not his father ? Is it right for a man to love his father here and not his Father there ? What is honesty ? It is a poor, bruised, disfigured image of honesty which men bow down before, when all their life through they are dishonest because they do not serve God with their heart and with their life. There is no reason why a man should do the will of men which does not hold him to the will of God. The reasons which bind a man to love his father, hold him to the love of God. Why, then, rest in this which is almost sure to slip into vanity and self praise, the feeling that we are honest, paying our debts, dealing justly, and that this is enough ? Poor father, I pity you if you have a thankless child ! Sometimes I want to pity God for thankless children ; for honest men who never pray, virtuous men who never love him, truth- telling men who never choose to serve him. How beautiful are those Psalms, and the other passages of the old and new Scriptures which describe the life of a good man ! How wonderfully have they been abused; as if one should take the jewels from the king's crown and tread them in the dust. The fifteenth Psalm : CHOOSE WHOM YE WILL SERVE. 67 "Lord, who shall abide in thy tabernacle, who shall dwell in thy holy hill? He that walketh uprightly, and worketh righteousness." Strange as it seems, men have even used that Psalm as a reason for not being Christians. They repeat its words and keep away from Christ. And that other verse : " What doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God." Men have even taken that as a reason for not loving Christ. "Fear God, and keep his commandments; for this is the whole duty of man " — " therefore we need not be Christians," some have said. Oh, the wrong, the injustice, the cruelty of it ! These passages of Scripture all describe truly the estate of men when God is pleased with them, but they describe an estate into which we are to enter. Christ's work in the world is to enable us to enter into it. He comes that the fifteenth Psalm may be true of us. Change the prophet's question. What doth the Lord require of thee in order that thou shoulclst see the mountains and valleys of Switzerland? To go out in the morning and walk through val- leys and over mountains with open eyes ; that is all. Do it to-morrow morning, and will you see the Alps? What doth the Lord require of a man who wants to see the mountains but to look ? Why, there is a small matter of getting to Switz- erland which ought not to be neglected. " Lord, who shall abide in thy tabernacle ? " — there is a 68 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. little matter of getting into the tabernacle before you abide there. We enter by Christ's work. "He that hath clean hands," we say calmly ; but let us remember that Christ has come to make our hands clean. "Blessed are the pure in heart." Christ came to make us pure in heart. When Christ's work is done in us, then the Psalm becomes the glad reality of our life. Let us never mistake the end for the means, or the means for the end. God would bring us into this righteousness, but the way to come into it is by the choice of God, and Christ the Son of God, our Saviour. As I have thought upon these things there has come to me again and again that incident in Elijah's life, when he stood by the river through whose parted waters he had just walked, and was to be taken away. There appeared a chariot of fire and horses of fire, and the Lord took the prophet in the chariot, and carried him up into the glory. I read it now as a parable ; the chariot of fire and the horses of fire remind us of our Lord Jesus Christ who has come where we are. The chariot is not heaven, but the horses can take us up into heaven. " The chariot of fire and the horses of fire " are from God, and are to take us to God. We come to Christ, we enter into Christ, and Christ bears us up to our Father's house. Read that sentence of our Lord's own words : " No man cometh unto the Father but by me ; " and this other sentence, which is less CHOOSE WHOM YE WILL SERVE. 69 familiar, " No man can come to me except the Father which hath sent me draw him." We have God seeking us, bringing us to Christ the Saviour, and then Christ taking us up into the tabernacle and temple of our God. What do I beg for to-day, then? That with one act we will choose God, bringing our will to bear upon this act, using our thought and our life until we choose God and find him and dwell in his grace. Can we do this? Can we not agree so far as this : that we will take the Lord to be our God ? Can we agree upon this to-day, brethren, and then pass on to the study of God's will and to the results of it? Here, this morning, I speak to you and I speak to my own heart. Can we cov- enant with God so far as this, that we will serve him with all our heart and with all our life ? He who shall come so far as that shall find the mercy of God bearing him up into the glory. Now, as we go away, shall we sing a loyal hymn, the hymn of a loyal people, the hymn of true hearts singing unto their Lord ? All hail the power of Jesus' name. IV. LOOKING TOWARD THE SEA. Scripture Lesson : Acts, xxvii. Text : Go up now, look toward the sea : I Kings, xviii : 48. THE prophet was waiting for rain. The cloud which was to bring it in abundance would come by the way of the sea. He sent his servant seven times that he might know if the cloud was coming. " Elijah went up to the top of Carmel ; and he cast himself down upon the earth, and put his face between his knees, and said to his servant, Go up now, look toward the sea." It is with a similar intention that men have commonly looked toward the sea. They have sought something from it. They have looked for benefits which must pass over it to reach them. They have taken its treasures. They have made it a highway for the ships which have carried their merchandise from land to land, and exchanged the products of separated climes. They have jour- neyed over it that they might visit lands of historic interest, or study the living institutions of the world. The shores of our own land were sought o 70 LOOKING TOWARD THE SEA. 71 in ships which pressed their way across the sea, bearing the men who looked beyond the wide waters for a haven for their liberty and purity. This church, this college, this nation, came by the way of the sea. Our greatest enterprises make an alliance with the sea and the men who belong to it. Ships must carry our missionaries to the ends of the earth, that they may erect in every land the cross of the Redeemer and the throne of the King. Our Lord himself preached from a fisher's boat, and called from the sea the men who were to be his first disciples and apostles. Men have been using the sea for their own purposes, always seeking and getting. The sea, the seamen, and the ships are the common benefactors of civilization and relig- ion. Even now, as the summer days draw on, we are looking toward the sea for renewed health and enlarged resources of mind and heart. It is time that we possessed and exercised a more generous spirit : that we asked if we cannot give where we have received so much ; if we can- not respond to these good offices with our own thoughtful and liberal benefactions. With this thought and purpose in our minds, let us go up now and look toward the sea. Looking off from this height, what do we behold? The vast expanse of waters, uniting the lands which they seem to keep apart, and making the lands a safe and pleasant dwelling-place for 72 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. men ; the seat of great nations ; the abode of an advancing civilization. But it concerns us much more to observe that there are three millions of men whose dwelling is upon the sea. They are separated from their families, and from the com- fort and security of their homes, from the enjoy- ments of friendly society, and from the ministra- tions of the church. On the other hand, they are thrown into the severest hardships. Their work is hard, their peril is constant. Whether upon ship or on shore, they are in danger. Their calling and their training make them an easy prey. The lifetime of the sailor is twenty -eight years, and his sea life eleven years. The monotonous story of shipwrecks is the saddest reading of the winter months. Along much of the seaboard the old prophecy scarcely fails of fulfilment, that the women of Colias shall roast their corn with oars. This is for us. The sailor is the indispensable man. Should he retire from service the world would almost stand still. Look at the manifold influence of Greece upon the world. The book which is the heart of the world's life, under whose sway humanity is to attain to its renown, was written by divine appointment in the language of Greece. But Greece lies within the seas, its wind- ing coast breaking into harbors for the ships of the great sea. Greece was fitly likened to a ship, and Corinth, " the city of the two seas, " was the prow LOOKING TOWARD THE SEA. 73 and stern of the ship. In allegory, Corinth was a woman upon a rock between two other figures, each of which held a rudder. The symbol is well chosen. In the history of the world the ship and the sailor hold a conspicuous place. These sailors are men like ourselves. They are brave, bold, generous, impulsive, open-handed and open-hearted men. They are the children of Our Father. Our duty is their duty. Before them stretch the endless years. The gospel of to-day and the judgment of the great day are for them. For them Christ died and rose again. They have minds which can be instructed, and souls which can be saved, and lives which can be set in highest service. To the fishermen of Galilee the Saviour ex- tended his personal ministry. A part of his going about doing good was on the sea. He trod its waves that he might help the weary rowers when the wind was contrary. He woke from his sleep to still the tempest and save the affrighted men in whose ship he was crossing the sea. He rescued one sinking man. He filled the nets which the night's toiling had left empty. The first to hear the good news which he brought, and the first to tell it to the world, were sailors. The Lord him- self leads us to the sea, directs our gaze to the wandering ships, bids us give to them as freely as we receive from him, teaches us that we can make them the messengers of his grace around the world. 74 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. What can we do for tlie seamen ? We can place them in good ships, properly built and honestly loaded. That man has a title to royal distinction who has drawn around the ship the safety line which bears his name. We can give to them the protection of the law, that they may be fairly paid for their hazardous life, and that their earnings may be safe from the hands which would steal them. We can have our coast thoroughly surveyed, and its perils brought to light, that ships may go securely on their way. We can maintain lighthouses and lightships wherever they can be a warning and a guide. We can sustain our life- saving service, and let it do its work through all the year, seeing that storm and shipwreck cannot be regulated by the calendar. We can give the sailors a home when they are on shore, and a friendly hand, and a genial compan- ionship, which shall make their stay pleasant and safe. We can remember that to most of our seamen this is a foreign land, where they should receive from us the same attention which we are to provide for our own men when they are abroad. The sailor on shore, especially in a strange land, should find waiting for him a friend, a home, a church, a savings-bank, and whatever will supply his varied wants. We have but to think how greatly we are his debtor to be moved to repay him out of the abundance of our comfort. We can put Bibles on every ship ; a Bible for a LOOKING TOW ABB THE SEA. 75 man. It is the book which he needs, even as we need it. The godliness which it teaches is profit- able for his life, as it is for our own. God and his law, Christ and his redemption, the future and all which it contains, should be in his thoughts, and should be set there, kept there, enlarged there, by the Word which is a lamp and a light for men at sea and on shore. It is interesting to observe how much of the imagery of the Bible is drawn from the sea, and would naturally be most appreciated by seamen. Our days pass away as the swift ships. The virtuous woman is like the merchants' ships. The true hope in God is as an anchor of the soul. A man's life is influenced as great ships are turned about with a very small helm. "Deep calleth unto deep at the noise of thy waterspouts : all thy waves and thy billows are gone over me," cries the burdened and hopeful Psalmist. " When thou passest through the waters I will be with thee," is the Lord's promise. " When the enemy shall come in like a flood, the Spirit of the Lord shall lift up a standard against him." "The wicked are like the troubled sea, when it cannot rest." To the obedient his peace shall be as a river, and his righteousness as the waves of the sea. When St. John was a prisoner upon a rock in the midst of the sea, he saw the Son of Man in his glory, and his voice was as the sound of many waters ; and the new song which he heard before the throne, 76 CAMBRIDGE SEBMONS. the song of the redeemed from the earth, was in a voice u as the voice of many waters." The hymn which so clearly expresses in melo- dious form the grace of the Saviour and the trust of the soul in him, among the dearest of all our Christian songs, carries our thoughts at once out upon the sea. It seems almost to have been writ- ten for sailors — Jesus, Lover of my soul, Let me to thy bosom fly, While the waters near me roll, While the tempest still is high: Hide me, O my Saviour, hide, Till the storm of life is past ; Safe into the haven guide : Oh, receive my soul at last 1 But we are able to give to the sailor other books. There is scarcely a limit to our ability in this direction. There are few good books which are read in our homes which would not be suitable on board the ship. In some respects a man has the advantage of a book as a companion and instructor. In other important respects the advan- tage is with the book. The book has its wit and wisdom in a condensed form. It is patient. It will tarry the sailor's leisure, and speak whenever he is disposed to listen. It will repeat its words as often as it is asked. It will not crowd him in his house, nor be in his way on deck. It will eat none of the ship's bread and demand none of its LOOKING TOWARD THE SEA. 77 favors. The good book will be the good friend, suited to all climes, adapted to all the conditions of life. Like the sea-gull it will be at home in the calm, and will beat up against the gale. This book we can furnish and ship in profusion and variety. Books of travel and history, of geog- raphy and biography, of science and art ; stories which are worth reading ; poetry which will be a delight ; books which teach virtue and religion — one and the same book which we use and prize, which we buy for our homes and place in our pub- lic libraries — these we can give to those who go down to the sea in ships, away from public libra- ries, and book-stores, and newspapers, with the leisure of a long voyage, with the intervals between the storms, with the weary days when a new face, and a fresh voice, and a novel thought will be welcomed and cherished. In the work of civilization, the man and the book go through the world together. We should keep them together when we can. There should be chaplains at all seaports. But Ave cannot pro- vide twenty-five thousand chaplains that each of our ships may be furnished. They would not be received if we conld provide the men. There is no difficulty in furnishing twenty-five thousand libraries, that each ship may have one. The American Seaman's Friend Society, through which our part of this work is to be done, has already sent out more than seventy -five hundred libraries, con- 73 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. taining more than five hundred thousand volumes. It had placed at the last report nine hundred and thirty-five libraries in the ships of the navy and in naval hospitals, and one at each of our life-saving stations. The work is as simple as it is sensible and useful. I have been told that it was a woman's thought, and I can readily believe it. Twenty dollars sends a library to sea ; not on one voyage only, but on a series of voyages. It may be exchanged for another in some distant port, or on the high seas. It may return to be recruited, that it may again go abroad. For the price of a book you or I can go on this voyage of helpfulness, to be the sailor's companion and assistant, to cheer him in his loneliness, to shield him in his peril, to bind him to his home, to point him to the Fath- er's house, and attend him on the upward way. It is an opportunity to be heartily seized. What work in which we engage promises so large a return for so small an outlay ! So wide an influence with so little exertion ! We can stay at home, and send our line out through all the earth, and our words to the end of the world. It is a magnificent enterprise, simple as it is. All which commends it to us as we think upon it is enhanced when we see the eagerness with which these books are sought, the care which they receive, the signs of faithful reading which they bring back from their wandering. It would be hard for a generous man to look upon a returned library, to take the books LOOKING TOWARD THE SEA. 79 in his hand, to catch the aroma which is breathed out from the case and the books, and not desire to go upon a voyage so easily made, and to have a sailor's library for a part of his own life. The results which have attended this unostenta- tious service confirm all which has been said. The testimony is abundant and continuous. Men have been cheered and helped. They have been pro- tected when among enemies. They have been taught the way of righteousness. Man}?- have become doers of the word of life, and confessing Christ as their Saviour have entered upon his ser- vice with heartiness and have been efficient laborers in his name. Sailors say that in coming around Cape Horn, or the Cape of Good Hope, the first land they make is the North Star. On many a sea and from many a ship sailors have seen the Star in the East which has led them to the place where the young child lay who was afterward to call men from their boats into his service. There is a special significance in the Christian life of a sailor because he is a wanderer on the earth. He visits many lands where he can be the living witness to the power and principle of the truth which he teaches with his lips and illustrates in his life. Before Paganism and its vices he can show forth the better way of pure and undefiled religion. Himself a missionary, he can stay up the hands and strengthen the heart and enlarge the success of those who have gone into strange lands 80 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. only that they might preach the unsearchable riches of Christ who loved them, and loved all men, and gave himself for the world. For the special enterprise which we are consid- ering to-day, we may draw incentive and example from other work which is done for seamen. Not for them alone, but for ourselves when we are sharing their perils. The government erects light- houses and guards them with generous care. We can hold the lamp of life along the shore, and out on the sea, and in foreign ports, that men may reach the haven which they should desire. We can meet the sailor wherever he goes with the light of the world. We can make him a light to lighten the Gentiles. By his help we can make the world bright with the glory of God, and the Lamb shall be the light thereof. Our life-saving service is well named, and, while it is not yet per- fected, is an honor to the land. Wonderful is the efficiency of its one hundred and six stations. Think of two thousand lives saved in a single year, and a million and a half dollars worth of property pre- served. What work is grander and more humane than that which is done by the hardy and resolute men to whom this mercy is intrusted ? It was not many months ago that men whose time was out and whose pay was stopped saved thirty passengers, with the sailors of the Pliny, which had presumed to be wrecked at the wrong season. A life-saving service which shall extend its watch and its labors LOOKING TOWABD THE SEA. 81 to the souls of men, that they may not perish, but have everlasting life, is demanded by humanity and Christianity. It is organized. It needs more men and more money for its work. It appeals to every kind and noble impulse. The very luxuries on our table urge us to the payment of our debt to sailors. The books which we enjoy plead for lib- erty to go out and bless others. The storms of winter bear to our retreat the cry of the needy whose hold on life is frail. He whose friends we are bids us walk the sea after him, that we may do good. I am sure that you will let a sailor's son plead with you in the sailors' behalf. I pray 3*011 to carry them in your hearts, to pray for them, to share with them the blessings which gladden your life — the blessings which have come to you through their hands. The opportunity is as invit- ing as it is large. " We are as near to heaven by sea as by land," were the words of Sir Humphrey Gilbert as his bark entered the darkness of the night, to be seen no more. The way to heaven proves shorter than the way by land. Heaven is near to bless the wanderer with grace, to guide him with divine counsel that he may be received into glory. The promises of the Lord's kingdom include the sea. At last there shall be no more sea : no more will it part friend from friend. It will imperil no life. It will take no man into 82 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. its dark depths. When the graves are opened, the great sepulchre will render up its dead, and roll away forever. Before that day the Lord will have his own. It is written, and it shall be fulfilled, that the abundance of the sea shall be converted unto him. Our faith and our work are to be as broad as the promise. When we pray and when we give, we should stand with one foot on the land and one foot on the sea, sure that when time shall be no more, the endless years shall still be ours ; ours and theirs who are in our mind and on our heart to-day. With a long vis- ion, with a controlling faith, with generous pur- poses, let us go up now and look toward the sea. V. THE GOOD MERCHANT. IN MEMORY OF MR. JAMES P. MELLEDGE. ScRiPTUKE Lesson : Romans, xii. Text : Happy is the man that findeth wisdom, and the man that getteth understanding. For the merchandise of it is better than the merchandise of silver, and the gain thereof than fine gold. She is more precious than rubies : and all the things thou canst desire are not to be compared unto her. Length of days is in her right hand ; and in her left hand riches and honor. Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace. She is a tree of life to them that lay hold upon her: and happy is every one that retaineth her. Proverbs iii: 13-18. THERE have been many among us who have found these sayings true, and have illus- trated their truth before men. Of these some re- main, honored and trusted, serving Christ and the Church, wearing meekly the homage which belongs to usefulness. Others have gone from us, entering into their rest, advancing in their reward, yet 83 84 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. leaving with us blessed memories which we delight to cherish, and a gracious influence for which we give thanks at every thought of them. The life of a good man is a present and permanent good. It is helpful to the strong and the true. It is profitable to the weak and the wavering. It gives hope to the old, who are soon to intrust their work to other hands. It gives wisdom to the young, calling them to noble lives and quickening every manly endeavor. This is especially true when the life has been made up within the common bounds, and out of ordinary material, so that it can stand as a pattern for other lives. This is of the greater service if the life has been seen day b}^ day, as deed has been joined to deed ; where purpose and principle and effort and result could all be observed and intelligently considered. There is one thing which is evident, that the good life may be lived in any part of the world, in any age, with any outward estate, with any position among men. It is evident, also, that it can be engaged in any kind of honest work. The good man may be a prophet or apostle ; he may be the minister of the Church, to teach the Gospel of the grace of God. He may be a lawyer, concerned with divine justice and righteousness as they are to be ap- plied to the affairs of men for their guidance. He may be a physician, carrying the Gospel of God's healing into the homes of men, that their days may be prolonged in the earth. He may be a THE GOOD MERCHANT. 85 teacher opening the world of God's truth and order before the expectant eyes which wait for the revelation. He may be a mechanic, framing the wood and stone which God has made into houses and ships, that households may live in comfort, and climes exchange their products, and nations be- come neighbors. Our thoughts add another to the brief list. The good man may be a merchant. He may have to do with merchandise, with buy- ing and selling, with finance and economy ; stand- ing between the earth and her children, in the name of the Lord, to bring out the treasures of the land and the sea, the forest and the mine, and lay them at the feet of those who need them. It is most appropriate to-day that in our study of a good life we keep a merchant in mind. Instructed by our recollection and affection we are certain to do this. We are glad and grateful that we can do it with an ample confidence. Yet no sooner do we seek thus to confine our thoughts than they reach away beyond the name we have chosen and the life which it describes. The good man may be a merchant, but he must be more. His business may be upon a vast scale, but his life must be more vast. He has relations and corresponding duties towards his father and mother, while they are here, and towards their home. If he has a family of his own, he has peculiar and sacred obli- gations towards those who bear his name and look to him for support and counsel. He has duties 86 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. to the community with which he is connected, whose interests he must regard. Above all he must remember his Creator, and give to God reverent obedience and affection. He must make up a Christian career, true in doctrine, just in conduct, devoted in purpose, humane, charitable, beneficent. Whatever be the special occupation by which a man is known, he has these broad relationships in which he must be found faithful. A good life is not a point, nor is it a line. It is a circle whose circumference encloses many different tilings, compassing them in a regular and unbroken curve. Herein lies the glory of manhood, that it is large and generous ; that it is complete and right. Have I said more than we have seen in the lives of men ? More than one name could be written underneath the picture ; one name your tender thought has been speaking. Look now more closely and more fully at some of the things which properly find a place in the life of a good merchant. I. First, then, it is of great value to a man to be well born. One cannot secure this for himself. No man is forbidden to be great for the want of it ; no man is assured of a noble life because of it. Yet happy is he who possesses it. Manhood descends. If character be personal, the forces which make up character are in a good measure inherited. It is the solemn law working grandly when the inheritance is grand. It enlarges THE GOOD MERCHANT. 87 human life. It makes it possible for a man to improve upon himself and to give to his sons a better start than was given to him. Working normally, it secures an advance by generations. The father and mother may give to their child disposition, taste, tendency, with opinions, mo- tives, powers. The birthright is long in their keeping as the child's guardian, that he may have his own with usury, through their watchfulness, influence, training. This is according to the divine ordinance. The good parent, says an old English writer, "beginneth his care for his children at their birth, giving them to God to be, if not his chaplains, at least his servants. This care he continueth till the day of his death, in their infancy, youth, and man's estate." Mani- festly it is a great advantage to a boy to have such parentage : to be born of those who have a complete view of life and a thorough conception of duty ; to begin his career in a house where God is loved and served ; to be brought up from his infancy in the knowledge of his other and greater Father : of his commandment, his provi- dence, his mercy; and to have his spiritual nature trained for the years and the ages which are before it. It is a great help to a boy to have for his father an honest man : upright, frugal, indus- trious: whose days of strength are given to prof- itable work, and whose riper years are hallowed with an active charity ; to grow up in a house 88 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. whose hospitality finds its most frequent guest in a godly man, an angel entertained not unawares : a disciple lodged for the Master's sake. Be his My special thanks, whose even-balanced soul, From first youth tested up to extreme old age, Business conld not make dull, nor passion wild; Who saw life steadily, and saw it whole. With such parents, in such a home, a boy may be spirited, fond of adventure, full of enterprise \ a leader in the heroic sports of youth. He may be quiet, content with home and school, marked in his work and play by gentleness and courtesy. Either boy may be truthful, reverent, manly, and give promise of a creditable life. I have in mind to-day the quiet, courteous boy ; whose ardor was tempered with gentleness; whose strength rejoiced in beauty of spirit and behavior. What will the man be out of this beginning ? II. In answering this I remark, secondly, that it belongs to the good merchant to have a wise choice of his calling. Not all good men are suited to one method of life. One spirit may be in them all, while they have diversities of gifts which should find diversities of operations. It would not have been strange if from the associations of his boyhood this young man had chosen to be a minis- ter, and doubtless he would have been wise as a winner of souls. With his kind heart and care- THE GOOD MERCHANT. 89 fill hands he would probably have been a skilful physician. In either profession he would have found a wide field for goodness and strength. It was most natural that he should choose his father's calling: and the result has justified the choice. What department of business should he select? Brought up by an established mercantile house, he turned from that special kind of business to another which offered to the young merchant an opening into a free and remunerative service. He chose that for which he was fitted : therefore he chose well. Yet making a wise selection of a career is but one part of the good merchant's choice. He must also determine what manner of man he will be in his work. Some things seem settled for him. According to his temperament and education, he may be stirring, enterprising, pushing into new countries, finding strange aven- ues for trade; or he may mingle great prudence with his zeal, regard new enterprises with caution, and let his diligence satisfy itself in paths where he is familiar with the way. This man was zeal- ous and careful : diligent and wise. Whatever his character in this respect, he has to choose in what way he will regard his business ; whether it shall be for narrow or broad results ; whether it shall be content with temporal or seek, also, eternal reward ; whether it shall be of the earth earthy, or be in its intent spiritual like himself; whether his business shall be master of him, or he shall be the 90 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. master; whether he shall follow the maxims of the world, or work under the commandment of God. One may be a merchant on either plan. The good merchant will elect the better plan. He will dignify his business with the lofty temper which he takes into it. He will make it the means of his spiritual culture. He will order it after his own will, under the statutes beneath which he lives. Realizing how large a part of his time and strength he is giving to his business, he will make sure that he is not separating so much of his life from its chief end and worthy method. He will refuse to divide his manhood according to days or places. He will be himself because in himself he is at his best. A man divided is like a house divided. The best everywhere, will be his rule. The merchandise of wisdom " is better than the merchandise of silver, and the gain thereof than fine gold ! " Therefore he will get wisdom and not sell it. He will work in " a land whose stones are iron and out of whose hills thou mayest dig silver." In his daily life, in all its common concerns, he will keep his integrity, and preserve the graces of his character and manners, carrying " high erected thoughts seated in the heart of courtesy." I will conclude and adorn this account with words written more than two hun- dred years ago — " The good merchant is one who, by his trading, claspeth the islands to the continent, and one country to another ; an excellent gardener THE GOOD MERCHANT. 91 who makes England bear wine, and oil, and spices ; yea, herein goes beyond nature in causing that omnis fert omnia tellus. He wrongs not the bivver in number, weight, or measure. These are the landmarks of all trading, which must not be removed. God is the principal clerk of the market ; " all the weights of the bag are his work!" Sometimes "the seller's conscience is all the buyer's skill." Men have a touchstone whereby to try gold ; but gold is the touchstone whereby to try men." And this is fitting here : " The true gentleman " " is courteous and affable to his neighbors. As the sword of the best tempered metal is most flexible, so the truly generous are most pliant and courteous in their behavior to their inferiors." Is all this true of the merchant who is most in our minds ? Is it not true ? What honor it is thus to have borne himself honorably, trusty in his calling, faithful to himself, always remembering that before he was a merchant he was a man : and that when he should cease to be a merchant, he would still be a man ! To hold this in his thought was to make his work pros- perous, and his gains lasting. This enlarges courage, lengthens patience, and uplifts the life. It increases and improves the man. He needs to let his best assert itself. He is more than his pow- ers, and more than his life. He is spirit. Eternal 3^ears are on him. This true and abiding nature, the real man, wins or loses life. A man's treasure 92 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. is his character. If that is rich, he is rich. He is so much that he can be more ; so high that he can be higher. He can be good, and have his goodness solid and round. I wish to pay this grateful tribute to the men who make us all their debtors, as they keep society alive, uphold government, found schools, build churches, send missionaries through the lands. I have revered them as boy and man, and lived upon their bounty. I know how great their own rules would make them, if they would take their rules into the limitless years and along the uppermost walks of life. Still doth the soul, from its lone fastness high, Upon our life a ruling effluence send ; And when it fails, fight as we will, we die, And while it lasts, we cannot wholly end. III. This leads me to remark, thirdly, that the good merchant will be good towards God. He may be a merchant without this ; honest and honorable, strong and wealthy. But surely these are not the highest things to be said of a man. The mer- chant can surpass all this. Seeing that he is wrong with God, he will become right ; confessing the wrong, seeking forgiveness, praying for strength to do those things which are pleasing in his sight. The qualities which make the merchant success- ful in the esteem of men, if carried to their proper end, will make him great in goodness. The wise THE GOOD MERCHANT. 93 merchant looks before him and as far he can. He does not bound his vision by seventy days ; nor does he stop at seventy years if he can see beyond — and he can see beyond. Indeed, the years after the threescore and ten are more certain than those upon this side. He is a man of faith. He confides in men, enters upon projects in which ab- solute certainty is impossible ; he sends his ships beyond his sight ; invests money for a future return ; anticipates results and works with his expectations. He should not be kept from a godly life because he does not know evervthino- about it, and has never seen the Lord face to face Nor should he refuse to heed the teachings of God be- cause in part they concern unseen things and reach into the world beyond the earth. He should pass on from what he knows to what he ought to know, and let his reason have free course. He is an honorable man; dealing fairly by all, paying that which he ought to pa}', meeting men in a liberal and manly spirit. The same sense of honor will make him just towards God, desirous to meet his duties to him, carrying himself in a manful and becoming manner towards his Cre- ator and his Father. It is most becoming that he should be a man of God in a large and generous way. The wise merchant seeks the best, or that which is best for his purposes, and shrewdly conducts his business with reference to the largest gains. He should not stop when the gain becomes 91 CAMB1UDGE SERMONS, very large and the good things perfect. Religion in itself, and its return, "is more precious than rubies," said a man who knew something both of rubies and religion ; " and all the things thou canst desire are not to be compared unto her." Our Lord himself sought to extend the approved methods of business, and he taught men how far they reach. u The kingdom of heaven is like unto a merchantman seeking goodly pearls ; who, when he had found one pearl of great price, went and sold all that he had, and bought it." The wise merchant is an economist. He does not work for pleasure, but for gain. From loss he turns away. Hence the question of the Gospel appeals to him and impresses him ; a question profound enough for him, and simple enough for his office boy, " What shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul ? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul? " He seeks moreover for permanence. He prides himself on the stability of his business — "an old established house," he likes to say. So that he can appreciate the force of Christ's appeal ; " Whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them, I will liken him unto a wise man, which built his house upon a rock." The shreAvd mer- chant makes himself known ; chooses a place among men, puts up his sign, advertises his goods, lets himself be recognized by buyers and sellers, by producers and consumers, as one engaged in his THE GOOD MERCHANT. 95 line of trade. Hence he will approve the command of Christ, that the Christian shall let his light so shine before men that the light may produce the best effect. He knows the advantage of associa- tion for counsel and helpfulness; he has his Exchange and his Board of Trade, to which he gives, from which he seeks. He sees therefore the wisdom of Christ in bringing Christians together in the fellowship of the Church for the furtherance of the Christian design and for the advantage of all. With what force, then, does Christ address him- self to the wise merchant, when he asks him to extend his practical maxims and usages, and let his wisdom cany him as far as it can. This mer- chant who is with us to-day looked very far before him ; he saw the invisible ; he cherished a sense of honor which brought him to God ; he strove to do his duty before him, that God might be glorified ; walking with God, he sought to secure the highest and most permanent gains, and what he received was still the Lord's. More than this, he knew his weakness, his failures, his faults. In a simple truthfulness he confessed his sins and sought the mercy of his God. To the Lord who had redeemed him, he gave his life. Two and thirty years old, he stood before men in the Church and made confession of his Lord and Saviour, and joined himself to others of like character and pur- pose. He sought what the Church had to give. 96 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. He gave what the Church sought and he had to give. His piety was real ; more, it was effective. It owed much of its effectiveness to the fact that it was known. He opened his mouth and quietly said, " I am a Christian." Therefore the good which he did and the good which he was became a tribute to his Lord. Men thought better of Christ and the Church because he had told them that lie was following Christ* and they saw that he was in the Church and of it. Tins was the business man carrying his business habits further on. This was the wise merchant become the good merchant. IV. I add, therefore, fourthly, that the good merchant will make for himself a Chris- tian life. It will be long, stretching down the centuries, and it will begin here. It will be a life of obedience. The eternal rules of righteous- ness will be its law. The Lord will be its master. He will realize that he has no more power over right and wrong than he has over the life which rustles in his grain, or the winds which drive his ships across the sea. He will no more tamper with the laws of God than with the coin of the realm. It is for him to obey. He will do this cheerfully, because he knows that it is right, and that the rule of Christ is the rule of the best. Thus honor and honesty are secure. He will be conservative towards the eternal right. Methods of business may change, steam and lightning may THE GOOD MERCHANT. 97 become factors in it, its competitions may grow more fierce, its demands more extortionate. But in his mind truth will remain truth ; right, right ; honor, honor. Novelt}Miiay play upon the surface of his business ; underneath will be the old vigor- ous rules of righteousness. Thus he will have a life of purity. His con- science will sit at his desk and stand by his scales. His mother might be his active partner and his father audit his acounts. He will be orderly and accurate : intelligent and sound. This will give him calmness. He may be full of enterprise, but he will behave as a man who has himself well in hand, and is prepared against sur- prises, He will enjoy the quiet Of toil unsevered from tranquility ; Of labor, that in lasting fruit outgroTrs Far noisier schemes, accomplish'd in repose, Too great for haste, too high for rivalry. Such a life must be generous. It will be put to the proof. Its patience will be tried, its passion tested. Forbearance and charity will often be needed. Broad opportunities of usefulness will open on every hand. Many claimants will ask a share of his gains. He will need all his discre- tion. But he will know that business is not an end unto itself, and that the value of money is in that which can be done with it. He will give by principle and with a free hand. The main course 98 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. of his life will be for the common good. But many subordinate interests will also be regarded. He will sow his rich fields for the large harvest; and from his overflowing hand some seed will fall at the wayside for the birds. Under such training, wherein he trains himself, he will increase in goodness. His life will rise as it lengthens. He will grow into the image of his Redeemer, and his Lord, and share his life. Wis- dom will endow him. For " length of days is in her right hand ; and in her left hand riches and honor." He will enjoy life. For " her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace." He will increase in strength. For " she is a tree of life to all that lay hold upon her." He will be received on high when he goes hence. " For whosoever shall confess me before men, him will I also confess before my Father which is in heaven." Is the picture which my unskilful hand has drawn, and embellished with touches from the king's fingers, — is it like the man ? Obedient, the law of the Lord was his law, and the statutes of God were his song. He learned obedience in his boyhood; and with it he made his manhood strong. His was the soul of honor. His nature was large and his principles were free, but you knew where you would find him. He loved truth the better because it was old, and ancestral piety was dear to him. What we call conservatism, it is better in him to call THE GOOD MERCHANT. 99 truthfulness : loyalty to the right — the unaltera- ble right. He was one man. He had his house, his business, his society ; but he was the same man in all : the Christian gentleman. He planned a full life, and went on to construct it. The centre was Christ : the circle held his children, his neighbors, his associates and the Church. He said not over much; but what he said was with power from the man behind it. He spoke often enough to make men sure that he was a Christian, then he went forward with Christian deeds. Nature had been generous, but the man had been just. There was more than nature in his calm- ness and courtesy. Let us do credit to his con- science and his will. The winds passed over him as over other men, and sometimes the sea was rough. Yet he went steadily on and safely. There was a man in the ship. One of our New England writers has remarked, " When I see a man with serene countenance, it looks like a great leisure that he enjoys ; but in reality he sails on no summer's sea. This steady sailing comes of a heavy hand on the tiller." There was delibera- tion in his life. He knew what he would do and how he meant to do it. A calm assurance of sub- stantial things made him firm and robust. The results are in keeping with the design. Given such purposes and principles, and the life is the natu- ral consequence. He illustrates what another has written : " Sow an act, and you reap a habit. 100 CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. Sow a habit, and you reap a character. Sow a character, and you reap a destiny." But the divine part of this life is its distinctive feature. Once more let us assert it. This man was born of God. The author of his faith and charity is divine. He knew his Father. He loved him. He delighted to please him. His Father delighted in him and advanced him in wisdom and honor. " Happy is the man that findeth wisdom, and the man that getteth understanding ; " " That friend of mine who lives in God." He trusted in the grace of God. He bowed at the manger with his gold and frankincense. He knelt at the cross with his penitence and faith. Pie stood at the open sepulchre with his love and his life. He received the Holy Ghost, the Com- forter. He walked with Christ and went pre- pared unto the place prepared. Therefore while we are sad, the voice from out the skies is saying, ' Blessed " — " Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord." For they are not dead ; " they rest." They have not parted from their business ; " their works do follow them." We speak our loving praise. We whisper our lament. We strain our ej r es to look up the glittering path and through the radiant door into the brightness and blessed- ness which are forever. There are glory and honor and immortality. There the} r stand, true men who have gone up from the earth, and they are pillars in the temple THE GOOD MERCHANT. 101 of God. They behold their Lord and are like him, for they see him as he is. Saints in glory, we together, Know the song that ceases never ; Song of songs, Thou art, O Saviour, All that endless day. O the unsearchable Redeemer ! Shoreless Ocean, sounded never ! Yesterday, to-day, forever, Jesus Christ, the same ! VI. WHY STAND YE GAZING? Scripture Lesson : Revelation i. Text: Why stand ye gazing up into heaven ? Acts i : 2. THE answer was obvious. These men had come from Jerusalem to the mount called Olivet, with one who had led them all the way, and who, while he was talking with them, stretched his hands over them in blessing, and while he blessed them, suddenly rose from the ground and ascended until a cloud received him out of their sight. They gazed after him as long as they could see him ; and when he had vanished, naturally their e}