THE
SPIRITUAL GARDEN;
OR,
TRAITS OF CHRISTIAN CHARACTER DELINEATED
BY
HAMILTON, BURDER AND M'CHEYNE,
PHILADELPHIA:
PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION,








CONTEN TS.
I, THE VINE, BY THE REV JAMES HAMILTON.
II. THE CEDAR,      "9  "6       %
III. THE PALM,       I'    "       "
IV. THE OLIVE,;"  "i'  "
V. THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE,    "6
vtI. THE GOVERNMENT OF THE THOUGHTS, BY THE REV
H. F. BURDER, D.D.
VII. THE GOVERNMENT OF THE. TONGUE, BY THE REr
H. F. BURDER, D.D.
VIII. REMEMBER ELI, A SOLEMN CALL TO PARENTS, BY
THE REV. R. M. M'CHEYNE.








THE VINE
BY
THE REV. JAMES HAMILTON,
MT.NISTER OF THE FREE CHURCH, REGENT SQUARE,
LONDON.
C "I am the True Vine." —JoHN xv. 1.
PHILADELPHIA:
PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION.








THE VINE.
WERE you going early in the year to the
banks of the Rhine, you would see the people on every slope, busied about some important plant. To your nearer view it looks
little better than a wooden peg, a dead and
sapless pin. But return in September, and
you will find that the wintry peg has shot
into a pillar of verdure, and from purple
bunches is pouring fatness and fragrance on
the soil. The shout of the vintage and the
brimming vat explain the labours of the
spring.
On the hills of Palestine the Heavenly
Husbandman planted a goodly vine. But at
first it had no form nor comeliness, and promised little. It was a root out of a dry
ground, and few expected that it would come
to any thing. And when its heavenly origin
was hinted, in a rage the men of Nazareth cast
it over their vineyard wall, anct soon afterwards the men of Jerusalem took the tender
Plant, and having bruised and trampled it




4             THE VINE.
under their indignant feet, they hoped that
they had destroyed It for ever. But the
Heavenly Husbandman did not lose sight of
it. He planted it again. This time, however, he concealed it from view. He so contrived that though the branches were seen,
the vine-stock should no longer be visible.
Grafts might be joined to it and fruit might
be gathered, but the stem itself was hidden.
A few weeks passed on, and a warm rain
fell. A sweet and springy odour filled the
air. It was the budding of the invisible
Vine. It was the tender grape appearing.
There were thousands of blossoms; and from
year to year thereafter there was many a
glorious vintage. And though rude days
have followed; though the passengers have
plucked it, and the persecutor has often
scorched and torn the boughs, the Lord of
Hosts will ere long return and visit this his
Vine. He will cast out the heathen and
plant it. He will prepare room before it,
and cause it to take deep root and fill the
earth. The hills of the Millennium will be
covered with its shade, and the boughs
thereof will be like the goodly cedars.
This earth was the land of the curse-it
was the world of sin, death, and sorrow —
when God sent his Son. He freighted the
Mediator's person with life, righteousness,
peace of conscience, and every mercy that a
sinner needs. " As the Father hath life in
himself, so did he give to the Son to have
life in himself," (John v. 26;) and thus fur



THE VINE.                 5
nished with an abulndance of life, he sent thel
Only-Beg'otlen into  the  world.  But the
world hated him.  It saw nothing attractive
in him.  It rejected the Saviour'.  It slew
hinm. But God raised him  again, and withdrew him out of mortal sight.  Thouogh now
hidden from  our view, he remains what he
was during the dcays of his visible Incarnation.   He is still the Saviour.  He is still the
sole Repository of heavenly blessings for our
guilty and necessitous race.  Though invisible, he is the great Vine-stock in which all
merit and spiritual vitality reside.  It is firom
his fulness that salvation is derived, and only
friom the grace that is in him that we can get
any thing gracious.  Though himself unseen,
his members are visible.  Believers are the
branches of this wondrous Vine.  At Pentecost they were freshest and fairest. They
are, perhaps, equally numerous, but more
sparse and straggling now.  But to see the
goodly Vine in its glory, we must wait till
the present winter is past, and the summer
of the earth is come; till for pardon and
peace willing millions resort to Imumanuel,
and the rejected Root has become the Plant
of Renown.
Those whom  Christ originally addressed
were fond of parables, and best understood
such truths as were embodied in emblems
and figures.  But perhaps your mind has no
turn for metaphor. You are rather confused
than assisted by it. You have difficulty in
following an allegory where people are corn
X, 




6               THE VINE.
pared to the branches of a Vine; and when
Christ speaks of a believer being a branch c in
him," and of "' abiding in him,"9` you do not
clearly apprehend it.  But if you consider a
little, you will easily nake oullt the main
idea,  Christ compares himself to a Vine,
and when you relmember what a glad and
lifesonne tree it is, the tree through which
vegetative lifo pours the fastest and most
freely, and the tree with whichn the most refreshful and exulting associations were connected; and when you farther recollect thzat
it was to bring abundance of life and felicity that Jesus came into the world, you can
see how  naturally in this tree of life Jesus
found the embleml of himself.  But this vine
sapling which I hold in my hand —how is it
to be made partaker of the life and fatness
of the living vine?  By creating the closest
connexion possible.  You engraft it.  You
take this leafless rod-perhaps severed from
a zwJild vine —and you insert it in the quick
vine-stock, and speedily the graft has taken.
Fibre by fibre, and vein by vein the sapling
clings and coheres, till the life of the tree is
the life of this adopted branch, and the 8raft
bnuds and blossoms and matures its clusterse
from  the flowing juices of the vine.  And
Jesus has life in. himself; he is now a man
of joys, he knows that the Father loves
See -John xv. 1-10, a passage which it wo-ld be
well to read over twice, so as filly to understand thi.
ract.




THE VINE.               7
him, and having completed the work given
him  to do, he rests again in the Father's
bosom, secure in the Father's complacency,
and most blessed for evermore. But here is
a dead and sapless soul, here is a spirit to
which holy joy is a stranger, and to which
God is still unknown as a reconciled God
and a loving Father. How is this dead and
dreary soul to be made partaker of Christ's
life and joy? By creating the closest possible connexion.  That sapless twig lives
when united to the Vine. That sinner lives
when united to the Saviour. But what is
the closest possible connexion between the
sinner and the Saviour? It is such a connexion as joins soul to soul. It is such a
connexion as joins the feeble and finite soul
of the sinner, to the holy and Divine soul of
the Saviour. It is such a union as confidence, and love, congeniality, and dependence, create.  It is confidence-for Jesus
died that he might bring us unto God, and
when a soul is persuaded that Jesus is able
to save to the uttermost, and resigns itself
entirely to him as a sufficient Saviour-the
soul which thus clings to Christ for salvation
is by God regarded as one with Christ. A
soul which trusts in the Surety will never
come into condemnation, for the Surety
would thereby be condemned; and a soul
which cleaves to the Lord Jesus for pardon
is justified already, for it is now part of that
Substitute who was justified long ago. And
it is love. You speak of souls that are knit




8              THE VINE.
together when they are affectionately at
tached to one another; and Christ and the
Christian are joined by an intense, mutuallypervading, and death-surviving love. Accordingly, he himself calls this union a "'continuance in his love." And it is congeniality. When tastes are identical, when persons love the same things and hate the same
things, when desires move in concert, when
the one treasures up the other's words and
tries to anticipate the other's wishes, you say
that hearts in such harmony are one spirit.
And it is one spirit which fills Christ and the
Christian-Christ's " words abide in him"
(ver. 7.) There is many an endeared saying
of his Lord hidden in his fondest memory
And these sayings of Christ do not merely
alight on him like rain on the vineyard, but
live and abide in him like vital sap in the
Vine. And these loved sayings and abiding
words come out in new obedience, (ver. 10,)
"c If ye keep my commandments, ye shall
abide in my love." And it is dependence.
Where parties are united in any way to one
another, one of whom is greatly superior in
strength, or wisdom, or skill, it becomes
natural and inevitable for the inferior to depend on the strength, or wisdom or skill of
that other. Now the believer finds himself
so weak, and ignorant, and sinful, that he is
compelled to look to his Lord, in whom all
these resources abound. Without Christ he
can do nothing. But he has learned to lean
on him. who of God is made to him wis



THE VINE.                9
dom, righteousness, and sanctification. Without Christ he cannot pacify an offended God;
without Christ he cannot escape the curse of
a broken law; without Christ he can do nothing to deliver himself from hell, nor secure
his persevering progress to heaven; without
Christ he cannot subdue a single sin nor
overcome a single temptation. He discovers
that it needs an Almighty power to sanctify.
m"It needs the same power to enlighten his
understanding as gave sight to blind Bartimeus; it needs the same power to quiet his
conscience, as said to the tempest, Peace, be
still; it needs the same power to soften his
hard and stony heart, as melted rivers from
the rock; the same power to convert his carnal affections into spiritual, as changed the
water into wine; the same to subdue his
rebellious passions, as expelled the devils
from the man possessed; and the same
power to make him pure of heart and fit for
glory, as made the leper clean." * And for
all holy obedience, he verifies the saying of
Jesus, 4 As the branch cannot bear fruit of
itself, except it abide in the vine, no more
can ye, except ye abide in me."
Wherever a soul believes in Jesus, loves
him, is made one spirit with him, and depends
on him for wisdom, strength, and righteousness, that soul is united to Jesus. That soul
is in the Saviour, even as the branch' is in
the Vine; that soul is dear to God., It is ac~ Clarkson's Sermons.




10              THE VINE.
cepted in the Beloved, and becomes an ob
ject of the Father's solicitude and care. And
it will experience the benefits of this union.
It will be fruitful; it will be purified; it wilh
be powerful in prayer; for if union to Jesus
be salvation, productiveness, sanctification,
and prevalency in prayer are effects of this
union which he himself has specified.*
1. The living branch is fruitful. The chenist who can analyze the fruit of the vine,
finds many ingredients there. Of these, no
single one, nor any two together, would form
the juice of the grape; but the combination
of all yields the polished and delicious berry.
which every one knows so well. In different
climates, and even in different seasons, the
proportion and blending of these constituents
may vary; but that is not a good cluster
where any is wanting. The fruit of the true
Vine has also been analyzed, and in the best
specimens the nine following ingredients are
found.  (Gal. v. 22.)
LOVE,                GENTLENE SS,
JOY,                 GOODNESS,
PEACE,               FAITH,
LONG-SUFFE RING,    MEE KNESS,
TEMPERANCE.
In poor samples there is a deficiency of one
or other of these elements. A dry and diminutier sort is lacking in peace and joy.  A
tart!:ind, which sets the teeth on edge, owes
e John xv. 5, 2, 7.




THE VINE.              11
its austerity to its scanty infusion of gentleness, goodness, and meekness. There is a
watery deliquescent sort, which for the want
of long-suffering is not easily preserved; and
there is a flat variety, which having no body
of faith or temperance, answers few useful
purposes.  Love is the essential principle
which is in no case entirely absent; and by
the glistening fulness and glad aroma which
its plentifil presence creates, you can recognize the freshest and most generous clusters;
whilst the predominance of some other elerment gives to each its distinguishing flavour,
and marks the growth of Eshcol, Sibmah, or
Lebanon.
(1.) Wherever there is union to Christ,
there is love. This, as we have said, is the
essential principle. Whatever else there be,
if there be not love, it profits nothing, it
proves nothing. Love to God and our neighbour is the essence of piety.  It is the body,
the basis, the staple element; and if the great
commandment, and the next greatest be absent, whatever else there be, there is not
Christianity.  Brethren, have you got it?
To Christ's question, "Lovest thou ned?"
is it your answer, 6Lord, thou knowest all
things, thou kno west that I love thee?"
Then, if you love Jesus, you will love him
whose express image Jesus is. To God in
Christ, your soul will be attached in gratitude, submission, and complacency. You
will not wish him less holy, less righteous,
less true. Awed by his glorious majesty, and
F




12              THE VINE.
melted by his ineffable mercy, all that is dust
and ashes in you will be humbled, and all
that is filial will be inflamed. If nothingness
and sin bid you be silent, the sight of your
laviour gone back to the bosom of his God
and your God, awakens a cry of relenting
tenderness, and adoring astonishment. Boldest where you are most abased, from the foot
of the cross, the view of a reconciled God
elicits the cry, Abba, Father. You love Him,
who first loved you, and "' feeling it sweet to
be accepted of God on any grounds, to be
accepted in his own beloved Son, you feel is
sweeter far." *
(2.) And joy. The essence of love is attachment.  Joy is the happiness of love.  It
is love exulting. It is love aware of its own
felicity, and rioting in riches which it has no
fear of exhausting. It is love taking a look
of its treasure and surrendering itself to bliss
without foreboding. " God's promises appear
so strong, so solid, so substantial, more so
than the rocks and everlasting hills; and his
perfections, what shall I say of them? When
I think of one, I wish to dwell upon it forever; but another, and another equally glorious, claims a share of admiration; and
when I begin to praise, I wish never to cease,
but to find it the commencement of that song
which will never end.  Very often have I
felt as if I could that moment throw off the')ody, without first going to bid them fare-, Nevins' Remains, p. 27*




THE VINE.               13
well that are at home in my house.  Let
who will be rich, or admired, or prosperous,
it is enough for me that there is such a God
as Jehovah, such a Saviour as Jesus, and
that they are infinitely and unchangeably glorious and happy!" "M And in a similar frame
another felt, c"Were the universe destroyed,
and I the only being in it besides God, Hie is
fully adequate to my complete happiness; and
had I been in an African wood, surrounded
by venomous serpents, and devouring beasts,
and savage men, in such a frame I should be
the subject of perfect peace and exalted
joy.t "
(3.) Peace. If joy be love exulting, peace
is love reposing. It is love on the green pastures, it is love beside the still waters.  It is
that great calm which comes over the conscience, when it sees the atonement sufficient,
and the Saviour willing. It is unclouded
azure in a lake of glass. It is the soul, which
Christ has pacified, spread out in serenity and
simple faith, and the Lord God, merciful and
gracious, smiling over it.
(4.) Long-suffering. This is love enduring.
If the trial come direct from God, it is enough.
It is correction.  It is his heavenly Father's
hand, and with Luther, the disciple cries,
" Strike, Lord, strike.  But, oh  do not forsake me." If the trial come from Christian
brethren, till it be seven-fold seventy times
* Payson's Life, chap. 19.
~ Memoirs of Rev. S. Pearce.
2




14               9 THE VINE o
repeated, love to Jesus demands forgiveness.
If it come fromn worldly men, it is the occasion
for that mtngnanimity which recompenses evil
with good. And in every case, it is an opportunity for following a Saviour, whom sufferings made perfect.  That Saviour never
loved the Father more intensely, than when
his Father's face was hid, and when the bitter cup proclaimed his justice terrible, and
his truth s&vere.  One apostle denied  him-n,
and all the disciples forsook hium; but Jesus
prayed f-or Peter, whilst Peter was cursing,
and his love followed the rest, even whven
they were runi.ino, away.  Jerusalem  killed
him; but in fobresight of the guilty deed it
was over Jerusalem  trhat Jesus wept, and
when the deed. was done, in publishiing pardon and the peace of God, it was at Jerusalem that evangelists were directed to begin.
(5.) Gentleness, or affectionateness (sphuro.,B),
This is love in society,  It is love holding intercourse with those around it.  It is that
cordiality of aspect, and that soul of speech,
which assure us that kind and earnest hearts
miay still be met with here below.  It is that
quiet influence which, like the scented flame
of' an alabaster lamp, fills many a hoime wvith
ligiht, and warmthn and firagrance all itoetheio
It is the carpet, soft and deep, whiChn  whilSt
it diffuses a look of ample comfort, deadens
many a crealing sounld.  It is the curtain
which forni many a beloved form, wards ofT
at once the summler's glow, and the winter's
wind. I;t is the pillow on which sickness lays




THE VINE.               15
its head and forgets half its misery, and to
which death comes in a balmier dream.  It
is considerateness.  It is tenderness of feeling. It is warmth of affection. It is promptitude of sympathy. It is love in all its depth,
and all its delicacy. It is every melting thing
included in that matchless grace, " the GENTLENESS of Christ."  (2 Cor. x. 1.)
(6.) Goodness or beneficence.  Love in
action, love with its hand at the plough, love
with the burden on its back. It is love carrying medicine to the sick, and food to the
famished. It is love reading the Bible to the
blind, and explaining the Gospel to the felon
in his cell. It is love at the Sunday class, or
in the Ragged school. It is love at the hovel
door, or sailing far away in the missionary
ship.  But whatever task it undertakes, it is
still the same,-Love following his footsteps,
" who went about continually doing good."
(7.) Faith.  Whether it means trust in
God, or fidelity to principle and duty, Faith
is love in the battle field. It is constancy following hard after God, when the world drags
downward, and the flesh cries, c "Halt."  It
is zeal holding fast sound words when fervour is costly and sound words are obnoxious. It is firmness marching through fire
and through water to the post where duty
calls and the captain waits. It is Elijah before Ahab. It is Stephen before the Sanhedrim. It is Luther at Worms. It is the martyr in the flames.  Oh, no! It is Jesus in
the desert. (Matt. iv. 1-11.) It is Jesus
F 2




1t6             THE VINE.
in Gethsemane.  It is Jesus on the cross.
And it is whosoever pursuing the path, or
finishing the work which God has given him,
like the great forerunner, does not fear to die.
(8.) Meekness is love at school-love at
the Saviour's school. It is Christian loxwlihood.
It is the disciple learning to know himself;
learning to fear, and distrust, and abhor himself. It is the disciple practising the sweet
but self-emptying lesson of putting on the
Lord Jesus, and finding all his righteousness
in that righteous other. It is the disciple
learning the defects of his own character,
and taking hints from  hostile as well as
friendly monitors. It is the disciple praying
and watching for the improvement of his
talents, the mellowing of his temper, and the
amelioration of his character.  It is the loving Christian at the Saviour's feet, learning
of him who is meek and lowly, and finding
rest for his own soul.
(9.) Temperance — love taking exercise,
love enduring hardness, love seeking to become healthful and athletic, love striving for
the mastery in all things, and bringing the
body under. It is superiority to sensual delights, and it is the power of applying resolutely to irksome duties for the Master's
sake. It is self-denial and self-control. Fearful lest it should subside to gross carnality, or
waste away into shadowy and hectic sentiment, temperance is love alert and timeously
astir; sometimes rising before day for prayer,
sometimes spending that day on tasks which




THE VINE.               17
laziness or daintiness declines. It is love
with girt loins, and dusty feet, and blistered
hands. It is love with the empty scrip but
the glowing cheek-love subsisting on pulse
and water, but grown so healthful and so
hardy, that it c" beareth all tilings, believeth
all things, hopeth all things, endureth all
things."
Reader, if you abide in Jesus-if His
words abide in you, you will be neither barren nor unfruitful.  Graces such as these will
be in you, and abound.  Is it so?  The
great vine-principle, the main element of the
Christian character, holy love, does it abound
in you?  And blending with it, colouring it
and sweetened by it, can you detect from
time to time, joy in God, peace of conscience,
patience in suffering, and forgiveness of injury, affectionateness, beneficence, trust in
God, and trustworthiness in your place and
calling, a lowly willingness to learn and readiness to take up the cross and deny yourself? When Christians live close to Christ
his mind is transfused into theirs. " Purity
and love shine forth in their character; meekness and truth guide their footsteps. Nay,
in the experience of some, so great has been
the change, that the very expression of their
countenance has altered. Thus was it with
Moses and Stephen. These blessed saints
were full of God; Christ was in them of a
truth; and his likeness was thus by them
peculiarly reflected. Nor is it wonderful that
such should sometimes be the case with be2 *




18             THE VINE.
iievers; for, when he thus fills their hearts
with his presence, when his peace dwells
there; when the calmn joy which he felt
when rejoicing in spirit, reigns there; there
must needs be gentleness in their manners,
and heavenliness in their talk, and meekness in their eye, and angelic serenity and
conscious elevation in their whole countenance." e
2. Every fruitful branch is purged. "o The
husbandman purgeth it that it may bring forth
more fruit."  It is the propensity of even
fruitful branches to wanton into excessive
foliage. But besides spoiling the appearance
of the vine, the sap spent on the leaves is
stolen from the grapes, and the excessive
shade keeps out the sun. The husbandman
prunes these shoots and suckers away, and
while he makes the branch'more sightly, he
lets the noon-beams freely in, and makes the
clusters richer.  So is it with the sincerest
Christians. In prosperous weather, when all
goes well with them, they are apt to flaunt
out in worldliness, and luxury, and pride.
They grow selfish. They study their own
ease.  They seek great things for themselves. And the Husbandman, watchful and
considerate, consulting  his own glory and
the fruitfulness of the vine, the Husbandman comes, and with the pruning shears of
some afflictive providence, lops the deforming shoots away.
* "Thoughts on Union to Christ," by Sosthenes.




THE VINE.              19
"Man's chief end is to glorify God, and
enjoy him for ever." This was the thought
which conveyed reproof and new quickening to a most amiable Christian," after her
greatest bereavement. "I felt that for the
last twelve vears I had misunderstood the
great object for which I was made; that, if
not my chief, a very high end with me had
been to be happy in my husband, and make
him happy in me. But now I felt that the
highest happiness of a rational mind ought
to arise, from answering the purpose for
which God made it; and therefore that I
ought to be happy in glorifying God, and
not in enjoying myself." And it is to this
result that every trial with which God visits
his people is tending. It is to shut them up
to His service as their chief end, and to Himself as their chiefest joy. It is not to hurt
but to heal the tree that the Husbandman
handles the pruning-hook. In deep dejection
of spirit, Mr. Cecil was pacing to and fro in
the Botanic Garden at Oxford, when he observed a fine specimen of the pomegranate
almost cut through the stem. On asking the
gardener the reason, he got an answer which
explained the wounds of his own bleeding
spirit. c" Sir, this tree used to shoot so strong,
that it bore nothing but leaves.  I was,
therefore, obliged to cut it in this manner,
and when it was almost cut through, then it
began to bear plenty of fruit."  Ye suffering
Mrs. Susan Huntington.




20             THE VINE.
members of Christ, be thankful for every
sorrow which weakens a lust or strengthens
a grace. Though it should be a cut to the
heart, be thankful for every sin and idol
shorn away.  Be thankful for whatever
makes your conscience more tender, your
thought more spiritual, and your character
more consistent. Be thankful that it was
the pruning knife and not the weeding hook
which you felt: for if you suffer in Christ,
you suffer with him; and if with him you
suffer, with him you shall also reign. (2 Tim.;i. 12.)
3. A third consequence of abiding in Jesus
is prevalency in prayer. " If ye abide in
mle, and my words abide in you, ye shall
ask what ye will, and it shall be done unto
you." One reason is that Christ's mind and
the Father's agree, and Christ's mind is in
the constant Christian. His will is merged
in Christ's will; and instead of the petulant
and unreasonable requests which worldly or
divided hearts are apt to urge, a holy solicitude for God's glory predominates in his
prayers. The first petition which his Master
taught him, covers and qualifies all the rest;
and whatsoever he may ask, he will not revoke the primary behest, "' Our Father which
art in heaven, hallowed be thy name." The
believer who abides in Jesus, obtains answers to his prayers, because his sanctified
will is apt to desire things according to the
will of God. But more than this, abiding in
Jesus is nearness to God. The man who




THE VINE.              21
knows not how to use the Mediator's name,
may pray from a sense of duty, or under the
urgency of present distress.  But if mere
duty compel him, there is no comfort nor enlargement in the formal exercise; or if distress constrain him, coming as a stranger,
there is ne confidence in his approach, and
he has no security that God has heard him.
He stands in the empty vestibule, and without obtaining a glance of the Sovereign, at
last leaves his petition, uncertain whether it
shall ever reach its destination. The sinner
who comes in the name of Jesus, is ushered
at once to the Throne of Grace, and obtains
the propitious ear of an all-sufficient God.
And the sinner who abides in Jesus, who
habitually comes in the Intercessor's name,
finds in prayer, not only entrance to the palace of the King, but access to that Father
whom Christ has taught him to regard with
the affectionate security and tender reverence
of a child. Prayer is his daily visit to his
heavenly Father's dwelling-the hallowed
chamber whose door the name of Jesus
opens-the sweet and endeared closet where
day by day he has told his griefs and fears,
and wants and sins, and from which he has
oft departed, rich in daily grace, and radiant
in his heavenly Father's smiles.
Reader, beloved and longed for, have you
understood these things? Do you not allow
that your own soul is naturally fruitless and
lifeless? Do you not confess that you have
no more right to immortality, and no more




22             THE VINE.
power for holiness, than the severed sapling
has power to blossom and bear fruit, so long
as it abides alone? But do you equally perceive that Jesus is the true vine? Are you
persuaded that there is so much life in Him
that if you could only share his life, you
would live also? so much merit in Him, that
if it could only be made your own, you
would be righteous also? so much holy
energy in Him, that could it only be imparted to you, you too would have a spiritual
mind, and delight in doing the will of God?
Do you perceive that Christ Jesus is the
great repository of justifying righteousness
and sanctifying grace? Do you distinctly
realize these two things-that you yourself
are empty, and that in the Lord Jesus all
fulness dwells?
But how is the empty scion to profit by
the teeming Vine?  How is a connexion to
be created between the Mediator's fulness
and your own vacuity?  How is it that
Christ and you shall become so truly one,
that His beauty shall be on you and His
spirit within you? We have already said
that'it is by believing him, loving him, copying from hinm, and depending on him. A
shorter answer is his own. It is by letting
Christ's word enter and abide. The disciples
were made genuine, "clean," they got the
real Vine-nature from the moment when
they admitted Christ's words into willing
hearts. And you too will be clean, the
graft will strike, from the moment when you




THE VINE.             23
credit the word of Jesus. Should you credit
that saying of Jesus, " God so loved the world
that he gave his only begotten Son, that
whosoever believeth in Him should not
perish, but have everlasting life;" or should
you comply with that other saying of Jesus,'Come unto me, all ye that labour and are
heavy laden, and I will give you rest;"
should you abandon yourself to all the blessedness of believing what the True Witness
says; should you suffer your weary soul
this day to sink into the arms of that Saviour
who rejoices to pardon and is mighty to
save-the first entrance of such a word, and
the first response of such a faith, would be
the date of your better life; and the commencement of your union to Christ.
-The graft has taken. At first the juncture may be very slight, a single thread or
fibre; and it is not till you try to part them
that you find that they are knit togetherthat their life is one-and that the force
which plucks away the graft must also
wound the vine. And your faith may yet
be no more than a single filament. It may
be only one point of attachment by which
you have got joined to the Lord Jesus. It
may be only one solitary sentence - one
isolated invitation or promise, of which
you have got undoubting hold. But hold it
fast. If it be the word of Jesus, cling to it.
There is life in it, and, held fast, it will be
life to you. One promise of Jesus credited,
one invitation of Jesus accepted, is enough to
G




24             THIE VINE.
make such union between Him and you,
that the violence which sunders, if' death to
you, would be a bleeding heart to Him.
Hold fast the faithful saying then, and as
you cling to it, you will draw closer and
closer to the living Vine. The surface of
quick contact will enlarge, and as thread
by thread, and vein by vein it widens, as
word by word, and line by line the sayings
of Jesus get hidden in your heart, the
tokens of vitality will become to yourself
and others, joyfully distinct. And though
you may fear to-day that you have no
interest in Christ-think no more of' that;
think of what He says. Believe him boldly;
and as sure as He came into the world to
save sinners, He will save you. Cleave to
His assurances in all their breadth, and
though you may feel yourself little better
than a reprobate to day, you will be a saint
in glory yet. And though you see no fruits
of the Spirit yet, let Christ's word abide in
you, and you will see them  anon. And
though you dread lest the faint hold you
have got may end in a falling away, hold on
till the feeble contact of this moment grow
into a complete coalescence, and in joyful
assurance of oneness with a sin-pardonillg
and sanctifying Saviour, you be able to exclaim, Who shall separate us from the love
of Christ?




THE CEDAR
BY
THE REV. JAMES HAMILTON,
MINISTER OF THE FREE CHURCH, RPEiNT SQUALRE
LONDON.'The Righteous shall grow like i Cedar in L/adr.lon."PSAL1 xcii. 12.
PHILADELPHIA:
PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION.








THE CEDAR.
LEBANON has sometimes been regarded as
a type of Jesus Christ. Among surrounding
mountains the loftiest and fairest, it may
suggest to a devout and willing mind that
Mighty One, who is fairer than all his fellows.* Its roots of everlasting rock, on the
one side struck deep in Palestine, and on the
other side reaching far into the Pagan lands,
are like that righteousness, i"great as the
mountains," which the Son of God wrought
out for the Jews and Gentiles,t and like the
Rock of Ages himself, amidst his supremacy
of power and wisdorim, still partaker with his
brethren.  The streams of water trickling
down its slopes, and gushing through its fragrant glens, may be a hint of heavenly influences, and of the Holy Spirit. through the Saviour's wounded side, flowing down to redeemed souls and onward to a widening
Church. Its coronet of snow, glancing in
* Psa. xlv. 2.  t Psa. xxxvi. 6.; Rom. i. 17.
G2




4             THE CEDAR.
the sunny sky, is like that snowy hair — the
halo of enshrined Divinity, which marks the
Son of Man in heaven-whilst its verdant
ladder, linking heaven to earth, brings to remembrance the incarnation and Immanuel,
" God with us."  The corn which gilds its
ample skirts, the vines which empurple its
royal robe, and the starry blossoms which
spangle it all over, may shadow the various
joys which have sprung up the memorial of
Messiah's advent. But it is not the corn nor
the vine, nor the lily which is the glory of
Lebanon. It is Lebanon growing and waving and scattering fragrance in the cedar-it
is the vegetating rock-the arborescent mountain-it is this which is Lebanon's glory.
And it is not European civilization and the
march of liberty and the diffusion of refinement and learning, nor is it the incidental
benefits resulting from  his advent which
brings the brightest lustre to the name of
Jesus. But it is his Spirit embodied-his
hidden life again appearing in some beneficent, resolute, lofty believer —it is the Christlike Christian who is the glory of Christ.
The first thing that strikes us in the cedar
is the firmness of its root. It is not content
to drop a few slack fibres into the yielding
loam; but it thrusts its sturdy wedge into
the cloven rock, and pushes far below the
brushwood in search of stronger moorings;
and so, when the tempest comes down, it
* Rev. i. 140




THE CEDAR.               5
springs elastic to the ihulricatles on its buttress of subterraneous boughs, and amid all
the veerings of the blast, finds gallant purchase in its network of cables.  The cedar
has a root. The Christian has faith. He
knows whom to believe, and he knows that
he believes him.  He is well persuaded that
Jesus is the Son of God, and the Saviour
of sinners. He is fully assured that Christ's
blood cleanseth from all sin, and has efficacy
enough to cleanse his own.  He knows that
Christ offers to be a Saviour to hinm, and
he thankfully consents that he shall. And
as his mind is made up on the sin-atoning
efficacy and God-glorifying tendency of the
decease accomplished at Jerusalem, he is
equally persuaded of the surpassing loveliness and peerless claims of Immanuel himself.  He has discovered so much of grace
and truth, so much of Divine glory and transforming goodness in the Beloved of the
Father, and is so affected by finding that this
Saviour is willing to be his guide through
life, and his portion in eternity, that his
choice is fixed and his heart is won. For
him to live will be Christ. And so, brethren,
the beginning of all blessedness is to possess
clear views, and a conclusive faith.  Some
deprecate distinct ideas.  They prefer music
without words-the goodly sound of the
Gospel without its significance.  And if they
have faith. it is faith in confusion-faith
without solid foundation.  If they be cedars,
they are cedars planted in mud-cedars in
1 *




6             THE CEDAR.
the sand. The cedars of Lebanon are rooted
in the turfy sod, and riveted in the mountain rock. Know what to believe, and why.
Read and hear and think and pray till your
realizations be vivid, and your convictions
sure and steadfast. Never rest till you know
beyond all controversy, if you do not know
it already, that the Bible is God's book-nor
till you exactly understand and can easily
state the one way of salvation. Never rest
till you be able to intrust your everlasting
interests to Jesus Christ, nor till you have
some clear evidence that you are born again,
and so made meet for the kingdom of heaven. Never rest till you know that your
Redeemer liveth, nor till you feel that because he liveth you shall live also. "Your
case will be very trying if ever called to part
with all for Christ. and not sure of him
either." And your departure from time will
be dismal, if it be only the fbrce of sickness
that drives you away, and not the face of
Jesus that draws you-if you see plainly the
grisly hand and the leveled shaft of the destroyer to fly from, but not the open arms
and smiling embrace of the Saviour to leap
into.
The cedar is a thirsty tree. It is distinguished from many of its kindred by its avarice of water. We once saw two of them
at Chelsea, which were said to have grown
rapidly for a hundred years, till two ponds in
the garden were filled with rubbish-after
which they grew no more. And we remem



THE CEDAR.             7
bered the words of Ezekiel, "'Behold, the
Assyrian was a cedar in Lebanon, with fair
branches, and a shadowing shroud. The
waters made him great, the deep set him up
on high. His boughs were multiplied, and
his branches became long, because of the
multitude of waters. All the fowls of heaven made their nests in his boughs, and under his branches did the beasts of the field
bring forth their young, and under his shadow dwelt great nations. Thus fair was his
grandeur, for his root was by great waters.
The cedars in the garden of God could
not hide him, the fir trees were not like
him, all the trees of Eden envied him."*
And so there are Christians planted by the
rivers-believers of stately growth and luxuriant shadow-so tall that, even in the garden of God, and among the cedars, they cannot be hid. For clear eyed, time-penetrating
faith, such an overtopping saint was Abraham, who athwart the expanse of nineteen
centuries could see Christ's day, and exult
with a disciple's joy. For prompt gratitude
and ecstatic adoration, such an exalted saint
was David, whose " glorying" slept so
lightly that the softest touch awoke it,t and
whose palpitating psaltery was so accustomed to Hallelujahs, that sorrow struck
them out as readily as joy, and, oft as he
changed the chords the loyal harp, would only
sing the praises of Jehovah. ti.r high-hearted
c v. otion to his God, such tr  -l!evated sair' Ezek. xxxi. 3-9.       Pa. lvii. 8.




8             THE CEDAR.
was Daniel, whose lofty statesmanship, and
spotless career, and lovely bearing to his
brethren, were but the various expressions
of the self-same thing, to which he owed his
miraculous escapes and his frequent revelations; "0 O man greatly beloved, thy prayer is
heard." And for burning love to Jesus
Christ, self-forgetful, self-consuming, such a
pre-eminent saint was Paul, to whom the
beloved image of his Master shone in every
type and shadow of the old economy, who
could trace the myrrh-dropping fingers on
the tongs and snuffers of the tabernacle;
who could hear the voice of Jesus through
the roar of the Adriatic, and lean upon his
arm before Nero's judgment-seat; to whom
the affliction in which Christ came was more
welcome than an angel visitor, and as the
summons to Christ's presence, death itself the
object of desire. Such noble and commanding characters have there been, that none
could hide them, and none were like them,
and under the awe or the attraction of theii
goodness, good men wished to resemble
them. "cThe trees of Eden envied them."
It is not only Secretary Cecil who could have
changed the palace for the preacher's cottage, rightly declaring, "There  dwells as
much happiness as can be known on earth;"
but men of God have been provoked to
press forward by the higher attainments of
their brethren. c"In one I have been animated by ardent activity for the glory of
Christ, and the salvation of souls. In an



THE CEDAR.               9
other I was pleased and softened by conspicuous meekness and gentleness of spirit. In
a third, I was excited to love and good works
by the fervent charity and brotherly kindness I beheld; and in a fourth, I was led to
abase myself, and confess the pride of my
heart, from the humility and brokenness of
spirit which struck me." But when you
come to look closely into the matter, and inquire to what secret cause these lofty cedars
owe their growth; whence is it that their influential and impressive characters have derived their admirable grace, you always find
that communion with God is the comprehensive source of their pre-eminent piety. They
are abundant in religious exercises. They
are mighty in the Scriptures.  They are
men of prayer. They are frequenters of the
sanctuary. They are lovers of Christian fellowship. They are delighted observers of
the Sabbath. But, after all, ordinances are
to them but avenues or audience chambers.
It is a Bible in which God speaks, a closet in
which God hearkens, a sanctuary in which
God's countenance shines, which they desire
of the Lord, and seek to attain. And finding these, they find the living God himself.
Their fellowship is with the Father and the
Son. They grow into the knowledge of the
Divine perfections. They grow in reverence,
and trust, and love. They grow in perceptions of their own infinite vileness, and- consequently in appreciation of the blood which
pardons, and the Spirit who cleanses. They




10            THE CEDAR.
grow in self-distrust, and in dependence on
God. They grow in self-condemnation, and
in longings for that world where they will
sin no more. And whilst they are solidly
growing in these inward experiences, the)
have, unawares to themselves, expanded the
long branches, and shadowing shroud of a
great cedar. They have become the admiration and resort of others. The affections
of many nestle in their boughs, and under
their shadow dwell those who seek to profit
by their counsel and their company. And
just as there is growth in the multitude of
waters, so there is decrepitude and decay
where the waters fail. Like the Chelsea,cedars, you will meet with professors who.
for many years together, have not grown an
inch. The rubbish of secularity or idleness
has filled up the two pools of.Bible reading
and secret prayer; and aE form of' godliness,
and a few evangelical phrases still remembered; a stunted top, and a bundle of scrubby
branches, are all that remains a memorial of
their better days.
Another thing notable in the cedar is the
vigour of its goodly boughs. Some trees,
especially trees of the forest, growing in
groups, have fragile boughs, and cannot
abide in bleak and windy places. But the
cedar is not more remarkable for the depth of
its roots than for the strength of its branches.
Not grafted on nor jointed in, but the brawny
limbs deep rooted in the massy bole, presenting a broad surface to the sun, and a thin




THE CEDAR.             11
edge to the tempest, too elastic to snap, and
too sturdily set in their socket to flutter in the
breeze, these boughs are the very emblem
of graceful strength and vigorous majesty.
The Christian is a tnan of faith, and therefore
a man of principle. His creed is principle.
His practice is the same. Roots and branches
make one tree; and faith and practice make
one Christian. And those are the.noblest
and most serviceable Christians whose convictions are so firm, and whose characters
are so strong, that nothing can affright them
from their faith, and nothing deter them from
their duty. In this respect, that father of the
Church was a goodly cedar, who, when nearly
the whole of Christendom had yielded to the
God-denying heresy, lifted up in banishment
his solitary voice, proclaiming the Saviour's
Deity, "et thanasius against the world!"
And they were goodly cedars, those Waldensian worthies, who, amid the rocks and
snows of Piedmont, through five-and-thirty
persecutions, held fast the faith of Jesus, and
though gashed by the Savoyard spear, and
scorched by the Romish faggot, carried down
from earliest time to the present hour Christ's
pure Gospel. And he was a goodly cedar,
that Knox, who never feared the face of
man. The fire of surrounding martyrdoms
but warmed his roots, and gave a rush of
quicker zeal to his fervent spirit; and whilst
the axe of tyrants threatened, he firmly
stood his ground till the idols fell, and the
evangel flourished, and Scotland was free
H




12             THE CEDAR.
And so was that Saxon Luther, whom the
Emperor and his legions tried to terrify, but
in the strength of' God he came on them so
mighty, that men and devils were dismayed,
— that Luther whom the Pope's emissary
tried to bribe, but was obliged to write back
to his master, 4'This German beast has no
regard for gold."  And so were those goodly
cedars,-Huss, and Jerome, and Ridley, and
Patrick Hamilton, and many more, who
counted their lives not dear that they might
keep the testimony of Jesus; and amidst
flames and torture finished their joyful course
-goodly cedars, which burning were not
consumed. And not to multiply instances
of confessor courage and martyr-heroism, it
is the self-same holy energy and decision of
Christian character, which have developed in
self-denying services and costly sacrifices.
Francke devoting all his time and all his fortune to his Orphan Hospital; —Vanderkernp,
labouring as a brickmaker that he might be
better fitted for his mission to the Hottentots;
-the 4"Apostle of the Indians," wringing
the rain water from his clothes, and lying all
night in the forest with nothing but a tree to
shelter him;-Richard Baxter, refusing a
bishopric; John Wesley, preferring active labour to the preparation of a pamphlet in his
own defence, "Brother, when I devoted to
God my ease, my time, my life, did I except
my reputation?"-those in whom Christian
principle has been so strong, that at its bid.
ding they have abandoned lucrative situa



THE CEDAR.                1 $
tions and tempting prospects, that they might
k-eep hooiy the Sabbath, that they mlight preserve inviolate hotnesty, truthfulness, and integrity, that they mnight mRaintail a conlscielnce
void o ooffence;  all these have put fbrth in
their day the strength of the goodly cedar..
The cedar "' grows" frorm  year to year.
The solid timber  of its trunk grows denser,
and nmore compact, and new layers are added
to its girth, so that when it is eventually fellk
ed, you can almost say, by countilng the concentric r1ings, how mlany summers it has seen.
A. lving  Christian,growso.i's character cotl
firms. Dauties  which when. first performined
were a crucifixion of the flesh. and a tritumph
of faith,  become easy and fmarniliar habits.
Promnises, the fulfilment of' which he at first
credited on the mere authority of God, have
now received the yea and amlen of a long experience.  IH  the homely words of Robert
Bruce, 66 WThen   r was young the Lord comin
pelled me to live by faith, but now he feeds
his old servant with- great morsels of sense."'
Religion has become his better and  more
beauteous nature.  lHe is past the danger of
being ashamed of Christ. The awvkwardness
and fear of man which made hirn once so
fobnd of obscurity, and so afraid of the Jews,
have passed away, and he is no longer averse
to be rankied among' the pecu liar people, and
regarded as a disciple of Jesus.  There are
apologies which he has ceased to make, and
diftficulties which lh has cease- to feel.  The
lions of his youth have disapv- eared fi'om  the
9,




14             THE CEDARo
street, and the grasshopper, which was a burden to his early faith, is no disturbance to his
maturer piety.  There are sins which uo
longer beset him, and fears wvhich no longer
distress him. l  e has outgrown the spirit of
speculation and controversy, and in meek docility, sits down at the Master's feet, listening
to — Thus saith the Lord."  He has lost the
desire for theological novelties and religious
curiosities, and is only anxious for such new
things as come out of the old Bible treasuryo
He has outlived the dogmatism  and harsh
judging of his sanguine prime, and no longer
calls for fire from  heaven on the Sarnaritanls,
He has left behind him  the vanity which
gave an air of flippancy and self-conceit to
hiis earlier efforts, and raised  a prejudice
against himself, if' not a distaste at religion.
And, perhaps, he has outlived the fear of
dying.  At one time there was something
ghastly in the look of the last enemy~ but
now, looking unto Jesus, he has learned to
look beyond it. "r There is something in the
heart of Christ, and something in my own,
which will not be at rest till I be set downt
upon Mount Zion.  My eyes are turning
gladly towards death, as the only sure period
of his absence, and of' these agonies of' separation01' 2:Brethren, would you know  whether you
are growing il grace-improving and ad-,
vancing in personal Christianity?  Then tell; Letters of Dr. John Loveo




THE CEDAR.             15
IS, Is your faith more firm? Have the truths
to which you once consented strengthened
into settled convictions? Have they become
first principles, and  do they instinctively
prompt you to corresponding action?  Is
your piety more pervasive? Does it decide
your conduct, and give the casting vote in
doubtful conjunctures of your history? " Does
it regulate your daily demeanour as a husband, wife, parent, child, master, servant?
Does it come abroad with you, out of your
closets into your houses, your shops, your
fields? Does it journey with you, and buy
and sell for you?" Does it stand at your
elbow, and keep watch at the door of your
lips?  Is your heart larger?  Instead of
looking merely on your own things, have you
learned to look on the things of others? Do
you love the brotherhood? And however
much you may prize your own denomination,
do you rejoice to hear that godliness revives
and religion spreads in other communions?
Have you a public spirit?-a missionary
spirit?-a spirit of zeal? In the efforts made
to protect the Sabbath,-to rescue missionary
stations from  Romish intrigue and warlike
rapacity; —in the efforts to educate the ignorant, and reclaim the vicious, and ameliorate
the condition of the working classes, do your
whole souls accord? Have these present
objects of philanthropy your suffrage, your
sympathy, your prayers? But, above all,
does your love to the Lord Jesus grow?
Whether it be in this world or another that
H 2




16              THE CEDAR.
you first expect to see him as he is, do you
desire the sight?  Do you distinctly feel that
the same Saviour who was such a disappointment to the Pharisees, and who, after he had
been so long time with them, was so little
known by Philip and Thomas and the restare you sure that he is just the Saviour whom
you desire, the very one whose presence will
make, in any place, your heaven? Have
you beheld his glory, full of grace and truth;
and has that glory so inflamed your spirit
that, like the ship to its haven, like the needle to its magnet, like the dove to its window, your soul will only reach its final rest
when it comes home to Him to depart no
more?
The Maronites ascribe a singular faculty
to the cedar. They say that on the approach
of snowy weather, it bends its branches upwards, so as to receive the falling flakes on
the sides of a slender pyramid.* Prepared
for the tempest, it only looks more graceful
under it, and the storm which could not rend
its boughs, soon melts in irrigation round its
roots. And though the cedar's power to predict the tempest may exist only in the imagination of these sons of the mountain, the lesA French traveller of last century relates this, and
apparently believes it. The cedar does not retain its
self protecting instinct in this country. There was a
noble specimen in the Royal Gardens at Kew, on
which, a few winters ago, the snow lay so heavy, that
one windy night its great branches fractured, with a
report so loud that the villagers mistook it for the
firing of guns.




THE CEDAR.             17
son is to us not the less instructive. It is in
a way somewhat similar that the Lord prepares his people for trial. Sometimes they
have a presentiment of approaching calamity,
and are led to cry, " Be not far from me, for
trouble is near."- But often, and still more
mercifully, the coming evil is hid, and all
their preparation is unwonted heavenlymindedness. Like the cedar lifting up its
boughs, they lift up their hearts, and know
not that it is their Lord putting them in an
attitude to bear the storm. They feel a joy
unspeakable to-day, and find the explanation
in the grief of the morrow. But still the joy
of the Lord has strengthened them, the selfdevotion and ascending affections of these
preparatory moments, have put them in the
posture on which the tempest comes down
most lightly. " On Easter Sunday, 1824,"
writes one," I rose before six in the morning,
earlier than I had been able to do for a month
before, on account of indisposition. I kneeled
down a minute or two after I had risen, and
completely resigned myself to God, giving
myself up to him  in a way which I had
never been able to do before. I rose from
my knees with a sacred feeling that I was
not my own, being'bought with a price,'
but the actual property of another, who I
was perfectly wilting should do what he
pleased with his own. 1 had a peculiarly
calm and composed state of mind all the day.
In the evening I coughed twice, and broke
X Psalm xxii. 11.




18             THE CEDAR.
a blood vessel."* And this was the beginning of the illness from which she never
finally recovered, but during which, divine
consolations never forsook her. In the Journal of Mrs. Fletcher. one entry closes, c" Certainly I have now scarce any cross. Thou
hast made my cup to run over. Yea, thou
hast made me to forget all my sorrows.
There is not a comfort I can wish for, which
i have not; but, Lord, I want more grace."
The next begins, "c When I wrote last, I was
arrived at the summit of human felicity.
But; O! how shall I write it!-On the 14th
of August, the dreadful moment came. The
sun of' my earthly joys forever set, and the
cloud arose which casts the sable on all my
future life. At half-past ten that Sabbath
night, I closed the eyes of my beloved."
But from  another passage it appears that
just before the attack which ended his
earthly labours, Mr. Fletcher and herself
had been led to a very express devotement
of themselves to God; and the consequence
was, that her startled spirit soon found its
quiet rest again. A thankful sense of her
mercies made one pang the less in losing
them; and the self-dedication in which she
had joined, prepared her for the elevated and
beneficent life worthy of one who had found
a Husband'in her Maker.  And as the Lord
secretly prepares his people for trial, so he
supports them  under it. Like the snow
* Memorials of Two Sisters,




THE CEDAR.             19
which shapes the cedar into a new  and
graceful figure, sorrow gives the Christian a
new  aspect of loveliness.  It brings out
the meekness, the endurance, and elasticity
of the better nature within him; and evinces
how invulnerable is his hidden life. It was
the cheerful remark of Mr. Wilberforce,
when his wealth took wing, "1 know not
why my life is spared so long, except it be
to show that a man can be as happy without
a fortune as with one." Dr. Arnold had a
sister, who, during twenty years of sickness,
made it a rule never once to allude to her
sufferings; and there have been many of
God's servants, whom his Spirit has so
mightily strengthened, that it was a great
sight, it was treading ground which God's
presence made holy, when called to witness
their patient endurance and joyful constancy.
And like the cedar, ready for trial, and supported under it, the believer is the better for
it when it has passed away. What is spring
but winter melted? What is the sap which
now gushes vital in these branches, but the
snow which lately covered them with its
frosty load? And what is vigorous piety,
but temptation vanquished?  What is expe.
rience, but tribulation thawed by patience?
And what is heaven itself, but light affliction
transformed to exceeding glory?*
We might mention other properties of the
cedar,  Like the palm, it is evergreen.
Rom. v. 3, 4. 2 Cor. iv. 17.




20            THE CEDAR.
Though a native of the mountains, and used
to wintry weather, it never sheds its leaves.
And these leaves, as well as its bark and
wood, are aromatic. Even when the snow
is loading its branches, the cedar is fragrant;
but it is in those blessed and vernal days
when snows are melting, when the April
sun is lavishing his light and heat to the
balmly air, and the whole life of the mountain
is gushing through the opening flowers and
carolling birds and leaping lambs-it is then
that in the bursting of fiesh foliage and in
the flow of beaded gums, the cedar loads the
air with incense, and flings afar 6" the smell
of Lebanon." And so a gracious soul is
ever fresh,; ever vital, ever green. But there
are times when the winter is past, and the
Sun of Righteousness shines, the April season
of the soul; times when a whole tide of
happy life flows into the dilating spirit, and
the joy of Jesus circulates expansive and reviving through every opening faculty, and enlarging grace. And it is then —then, when
every twig of the cedar is tufted with new
softness and beauty, and when the nestling
birds are singing in the branches-it is then,
when the love of the Spirit circulates anew,
and the soul exults in God its Saviour; it is
then that it is good to be near the happy and
fresh-filled believer. In such society, and at
such a season, the atmosphere is odour.
The south wind wakes, and the spices flow.
Heaven has opened, and the winter fled.
God smiles, and the soul expands. The




THE CEDAR.              21
Holy Spirit stirs within, and verdure manties to the topmost bough. And in the
wafted gladness and delicious air, every alert
disciple feels it is surely good to be here.
We might have added, the cedar is sound
to the last; and the believer perseveres to
the end, " to show that the Lord is upright;
he is a rock, and there is no unrighteousness
with him."  But we only mention one particuiar farther.  The palm is most productive
at the last.  It brings forth in old age its
largest, richest fruit.  The cedar is most useful when dead.  It is most productive when
its place knows it no more. There is no
timber like it. Firm in the grain, and capable of the finest polish, the tooth of no insect
will touch it, and time himself can hardly
destroy it. Diffusing a perpetual fragrance
through the chambers which it ceils, the
worm will not corrode the book which it
protects, nor the moth corrupt the garment
which it guards.  All but immortal itself, it
transfuses its amaranthine qualities to the
objects around it; and however stately in
the forest, or brave on the mountain's brow,
it is more serviceable in Solomon's palace,
and more sanctified when set up as pillars in
the Temple, and carved into door-posts and
lintels for the House of the Lord. Every
Christian is useful in his life, but the goodly
cedars are most useful afterwards. Joseph,
while he lived, saved much people alive, and
his own lofty goodness was an impressive
and elevating pattern to his relenting and ad



22             THE CEDAR.
miring brethren. But as an instance of special providence, and an example of untarnished excellence amidst terrible temptations,
Joseph dead has spoken to more than Joseph
living. The sweet singer of Israel, while he
lived, taught many to handle the harp, and
infected not a few with his thankful, adoring
spirit. But David being dead, yet singeth;
and you can hardly name the psalm, or hymn,
or spiritual song, of which the lesson was
not learnt from the son of Jesse.  Paul, in
his living day, preached many a sermon, and
made many a convert to the faith of Jesus.
But Paul being dead, yet preacheth, and
they were sermons from his sepulchre which
converted Luther, and Zuingle, and most of
our modern evangelists.  And  Luther is
dead, but the Reformation lives. Calvin is
dead, but his vindication of God's free and
sovereign grace will never die. Knox, Melville, and Henderson are dead, but Scotland
still retains a Sabbath and a Christian peasantry, a Bible in every house, and a school
in every parish. Bunyan is dead, but his
bright spirit still walks the earth in its c" Pilgrim's Progress."  Baxter is dead, but souls
are still quickened by the c" Saint's Rest,"'
and the c" Call to the Unconverted." Cowper
is dead, but the "golden apples" are still as
fresh as when newly gathered in the c" silver
basket" of the Olney Hymns. Eliot is dead,
but the missionary  enterprise is young.
Henry Martyn is dead, but who can count
the apostolic spirits, who, phcenix-wise, have




'HE CEDAR.
started from  his fi:tneral pile P  Ho ward is
dead, but modern philanthlropy is only cormn
mencing its career, Raikes is dead, but the
Sabbatthschools go on.  Wilberforce is dead,
but the negro will finld for ages, a protector
in his memory.
And though you, Christian brother, may
not occupy a place of prominence, you may
fill a place of useribluess,  If not a cedar of
the mountain, you may be a cedar of the
vale,  Seel a clear understanding of scriptural trutho  Be  fully  persuaded in your
mind.  See to it that a living Saviour be ini
deed the sun of your affections and the centre
of your desires.  Cultivate a strenuous piety.
Alike conmbat intellect'al laziness and spiritual lethargyo  Be ready for every good
work.  Be ready to give a reason for'the
hope that is in you. Aind pray that the
Lord would maintain you ever ready for his
providential will.  Instead  of yielding  to
every passing influence, seek a character so
consistent, so rmeekly resolute, so cheerfiully
devout, that sin will find no sanction in your
silence, and  irreliu~ion no excuse in your
glooni.  And more especially armonlg familiar
friends and inl your house at home, strive to
walk. wisely in a perfect way.  Begin and
end the day  with  God.  Let salt season
your speech, and lIet Ckhristian elevation peivade your denieanour. Let the peace of
GCod Lrule in your heart, and let its power at
once to strengthen and soften be seen in that
arajestic principle  with wlicrh  worldliness
i



24           THE CEDAR.
dares not to tamper, and that continual benignity which makes even worldliness wistful.
And thus, when you yourself " grow" here
no longer, even the irreligious will think of
something very lofty and lovely when they
think of you.




THE PALM
BY
THE REV. JAMES HAMILTON,
MINISTER OF THE FREE CHURCH, REGENT SQUARE,
LONDON.,' The Righteous shall flourish like the Palm tree."PSALMS XCii. 12.
PHILADELPHIA:
PRESBYTERI N BOARD OF PUBLICATION








THE PALM.
DEAR READER,-YOU have named the name
of Jesus. You have been led to avow yourself the Saviour's disciple. And, if sincere
and intelligent in your profession, you are
very different from the multitude, and from
what you yourself once were.  To you
Christ is now a real person. You are persuaded that he is the, Son of God and the
Saviour of sinners. You believe that 1800
years ago, he poured out his precious blood
on a cross at Jerusalem, as an atonement for
sin, and by his obedience to death brought in
everlasting righteousness. You are assured
that he is now at the Father's right hand, a
Prince and a Saviour, bestowing repentance
and the remission of sins. Your own hope
is in Christ. You know not another name
to which you can trust your eternal interests,
but Christ Jesus you can and do rely on.
And since you ascertained Christ's ability
and willingness to save, there has been a
change in your affections and hoPes, vour
I.2




4              THE PALM.
principles and habits.  Your temperament
may be cold; nevertheless, by you Christ is
loved and adored. Your faith may be feeble
and your prospects confused; still you have
learned to recognize a Friend in Immanuel
and a home in heaven. Your motives may
be mixed and unstable; still your obedience
is new, and you often find a holy impulse, a
filial instinct, the joy or the love of Christ
constraining you. Your character may be
very defective; but still you can perceive
that it is altered —for now you love to pray
and read the Bible. You are happy among
the excellent of the earth. The meditation
of God is sweet, the day of God is welcome,
and the house of God is dear. If a Christian at all, your case will be another fulfilment of the universal rule, "4 If any man be
in Christ, he is a new creature."
But along with the hope of sincerity, you
may have a painful sense of deficiency.
You feel that you are neither so happy nor
so holy as a Christian might be. You would
like to reach a character more explicit, a
faith more firm, and an experience more
vivid than are sought by ambiguous and
commonplace professors. You perceive that
it is a high mark which the Gospel sets before you, and that the consistent Christian is
not only a new but a noble creature. But
if such completeness and consistency of character be the objects of your desire, you
should make them the subject of earnest
thought and prayerful effort. With the Bible




THE PALSMo 
for a directory, and the Holy Spirit for a
teacher, there is nothing augLust and nothing
amiable in vital Christianity which you mlay
not long and hope to see developed in yourself.  The Father is glorified when disciples
are fruitful.  The Church is strong, when its
members are:mutual supports and incitements; and the Gospel spreads when living
epistles commend ito  Selecting as mottoes
two scriptural emblems, the palm  and the
cedar-the one representing personal religion
in its gracefulness, the other piety in its granr
deur; the one, the beauty of true holiness —
the othler, its majesty: and both together the
blessedness of its possessor, and the benefits
which he confers on others-we humbly and
affectionately offer to our brethren the hints
which have been suggested to ourselves.
There is something instructive in the very
place where the palm  tree grows.  It is not
ini the sheltered depths of the forest, nor with
its roots struck deep in the fertile loam.  It
grows in the desert. All round the ridgy
sand is burning, and often its pillar of verdure springs direct from  the scorching dust.
And it is in the desert that trees of righteousness grow.   This earth  is a land of
emptiness.  Its mould is not the soil friom
which  you would  expect aught spiritual
or holy to spring.  And when in a world
like this-a world so sensual and depraved,
and so embittered against the living Godwhen in such a world yolw alight on a man
of blameless life, and devout disposition, and




6              THE PALM.
heavenly aspirations, it is the same surprise
as encountering the bright and laden palm
on the dusty edge of the desert. You may
feel that your own abode is not the favourable
place for cultivating personal piety. Your
abode is not a cottage imbedded in the calm
of rural Sabbaths, and, by the soft voice of
silent monitors, inviting you, Eden-wise, to
communion with God. Your lot is not cast
under the protective shadow of a domestic
sanctuary, or amid the innocent safeguards
and virtuous inspiration of a hallowed and
godly home. You live in a city where the
dust of business is drifting all the week, and
the din of occupation disturbs the day of
rest. You are planted in a lonely lodging,
or a prayerless household. And if your soul
is to thrive at all, it must learn to " flourish "
among strangers and scoffers. You must be
a man of principle in the midst of profligacy,
and a man of faith while surrounded with
infidelity. "cThou, God, seest me!" must
be inscribed in the dingy counting-room, and
must move before you in letters of endearing light through the glare of the gas-lit
mart. You must carry Bible rules into scenes
of trickery and tumult, and must not suffer
cunning men to beguile you of your simplicity, or knavish men to rob you of your
equanimity. You must learn to be holy and
narnmless though in daily contact with duplicity, and must strive to lead Enoch's life:
for, were Enoch living now, he would walk
with God in the streets of London.




THE PALM.              7
Though the palm starts bolt up from'the
burning sand, the sand is not its sustenance.
The dust may have swept hot and stifling
round its stem;-but clear that dust away.
The sand grows humid as you dig, and, by
the time you reach the white fibres of the
tap, the veins of water flow. And as, by
and by, you gaze on the fringy rootlets floating in the well, you discern the secret of its
joyous growth. No matter that the sky is
brass and the desert dust, when crystal life
is throbbing plentiful below. Doubtless this
is a dry and thirsty land; but it is the land
where ever and anon the eye is gladdened
by some goodly palm. In strange and unexpected places you meet with fresh and lofty
Christians. You wonder how they thrive.
They do not grow as the lily; for the lily is
found in green pastures, and they do not belong to a lifesome communion. Nor do they
spring as the willow; for it springs by the
water-courses, and they have not the benefit
of the purest ordinances and the most refreshful ministrations. They are trees of the
desert, like Enoch among the giant sinners
of an early world; like Joseph among the
wizards and beast-worshippers of Egypt;
like Daniel in voluptuous Babylon; like
David Brainerd among Indian savages;
like Henry Martyn in stony-hearted Persia.
Their life is hid. So pure amidst depravity,
so loyal to God amidst idolatry, so devout
and fervent amidst atheism and blasphemy,
their heavenly-mindedness is a miracle. But




8              THE PALM.
beneath the dusty surface of this godless
world, there is a well of water springing up
to everlasting life. There is no spot so barren, and no soil so burning, no situation so
adverse, but faith can find the Holy Spirit
there. It needs only faith's penetrating root
descending beneath the things which do appear,j to fetch up spiritual refreshment and invigoration where others pine and die. From
a secret source the believer in Jesus draws his
life. The morning portion of the word, the
morning prayer, the morning meditation;
these are the "stolen waters " which keep
him green all day; and even in the desert there
is a dew which, descending on his branches
over night, brings him forth fragrant and
lively to the morrow.  You, my friends,
who lead lives of secularity or drudgery,
you who are often sighing —" Lord, what a
wretched land is this;" remember that it is
the land of the Bible, the land of prayer, the
land of the promises, and, above all, the land
of the Comforter's presence and power. To
say nothing of periodic rains and weekly
showers, the affluent irrigation of sanctified
Sabbaths and communion feasts-a daily text
and daily prayer, with the whole heart in
them, would make you flourish like the palm.
You would realize something of the life of
God in your own soul, and your shining
healthful aspect would awake the exclama* Heb. xi. 1.




THE PALM.               9
tion, " 0 Lord of Hosts, blessed is the man
whose strength is in thee."*
The palm is a tree of remarkable beauty.
Apart from all its associations there is something in its slim  uprightness, its verdant
canopy, and the silvery flashes of its waving
plumes which glads the eye that gazes.
And so is there in a person truly gracious.
If your character be completely Christian, if
there be in it so much of grace that the gracious has all grown natural, if your affections be brought obedient to Christ Jesws, if
your maxims of conduct be scriptural, and
your motives in acting be Christian, there will
be instruction and joy in beholding you.
Your growth will be erect and aspiring. The
ivy creeps and the bramble trails, but the
palm, in its perpendicular uprightness, dwells
on high, and seeks the things above. And
the fairest Christians are those whose pure
and lofty affections lift them sublimely above
all that is low and debasing, and whose heaven-pointing demeanour betokens an upgoing heart. Whosoever is anxious to become
a consistent and conspicuous Christian, must
keep aloof from the mean enjoyments and
paltry expedients, the tattling curiosity and
malignant constructions, of a world incredulous of the highest goodness, because incapable of exerting it; and, aware that no permanent motive to well-doing can be found
here below, he must seek it in that Savioui
~ Psalm lxxxiv. 5.




10             THE PALM.
wThose smile it elicits, and in that heaven
where it all will be found again. Some trees
are crooked, but the palm is straight, and,
standing forth in its unbending altitude,
spreads all its foliage to the sun. And, if
yours be a flourishing Christianity, there will
be no crooks nor zigzags in it. A conscience
void of offence will give a gay security to
your goings out and comings in.  Never
meeting the neighbour whom you have injured, nor the man who has aught ignominious to allege against you; haunted by no
sense of hollowness, and no forebodings for
the future; harbouring no bitter feelings, and
hiding no sinister designs, you will readily
come to the light, and never fear that it will
make your deeds too manifest. And just as
your frank explicit character will declare you
a child of day, your evenly sense and the
sweetness of your disposition, will justify you
as one of Wisdom's children. There are
trees which have knots of' weakness in their
substance, and gnarled projections on their
surface. But the palm is not only erect and
tall; its stem is fair and even. From the
root to the topmost tuft, it springs round,
elegant, and equal, with neither galls nor
disfiguring bunches. There are crotchetty
Christians; but they are not palms. There
are professors so peculiar that you can never
count on themn; what they are to-day is no
presumption for what they shall be to-morrow. They may have many good points
and noble qualities; but their fellowship is




THE PALM.               11
marred, and their usefulness frustrated, by
whims which no sagacity can predict, and
caprices to which not even 4" the patience of
the saints " can conform. Do you, brethren,
cultivate a meek and quiet spirit; that inagnanimity which is calm and considerate, and
which tries to look at this day's grievances
in to-morrow's light; that elastic and happy
temper which, being the growth of grace,
shall be independent of the weather-that
serenity which, whether in fog, or sickness,
or hunger, or in sunshine, and health, and
bodily comfort, "is not easily provoked;"
that "charity which suffereth long and is
kind, which hopeth all things, endureth all
things." And if this grace be in you-if
your spirit be so ruled that men find you the
same yesterday and to-day-your heart fixed
amidst vexations, and amidst all its trials
your temper tranquil, they will perceive that
the religion from above is full of good fruits,
and will admire its peacefuil fruits in you.
Nor must we forget that foliage which is
one chief glory of the palm. Each several
frond in its graceful arching, and its long and
taper leaflets, with the gloss of unfadilng verdure, is such a natural symbol of hope and
joy, and exultation, that the palm  branch
has stood for ages the emblem of victory.
It was twisted into the verdant booths at the
Feast of Tabernacles; it was borne aloft by
the multitude when they escorted Messiah to
his coronation in Jerusalem.   "And lo! before the throne in heaven, and before the
K




12             THE PALM.
Lamb, a great multitude, clothed with white
robes, and palms in their hands." * And
every believer should flourish like the palm.
Not only should "his leaf never fade," t it
should not even sully.  Some leaves are so
viscid and clammy, that the dust settles and
adheres. And some professors, who perhaps
are genuine, are so powdered over with a
constant secularity that their leaf is always
dingy. They are wayfaring trees; and if
the shower of some special ordinance or
solemnizing dispensation should wash their
foliage into a momentary freshness, the cares
of this life soon deface it again. But in the
heart of the desert the palm contrives to cast
the dust quick as it alights, and keeps its
slender leaflets pure.  And so, Christian
brethren, be it your endeavour to maintain
not only a blameless, but a beauteous character, the full circulation and the fresh attire
of a flourishing Christianity. You must go
into the world to-morrow. You must do
many dull and irksome tilings, or many things
apparently remote from religion. But if you
have found out the secret of spiritual-mindedness, you will come home fit for the
prayer meeting, or for the Christian friend, or
the family worship. In the midst of all the
secularities which have been floating around,
you will keep your garments clean. The
palm has no holiday clothing. Its branch is
equally green, whether an emperor or an
* Rev vii. 9.        I Psalm i. 3.




THI PALM.               3
outlaw pass under it. Summer and winter
it is a'lways the same. And so a beauteous
Christianity is that which loses none of its
loveliness to the eye that oftenest views it.
If you be respectable in public —if you be
serious and fervent in the sanctuary — if
your conversation be rational or religious in
society-but if you be commonplace at home
-if you be cross and censorious, frivolous
and silly, worldly and wearisome at your
own fireside-if you be one of those trees
which need brushing before they are fit to be
seen, such dusty affinities prove that your
nature is not that of' the palm. If full of sap,
your leaf will be evergreen; and those who
know you best will love you most, and be
the best persuaded of your simplicity and
godly sincerity. And to crown the whole;
if yours be a palmy growth, yours will be a
religion of happiness and praise.  A fair
sight it is when the breeze flits by, and every
ray of the feathery coronet twinkles to the
morning sun-the desert's anthem-the palm
tree's orison. Nature gave the hint to man,
and to God's glory waved her verdant plumes
before the victor learned to wave them to his
own. And so, dear friend, if yours be the
right religion, it will be imbued with blessedness and clothed with praise. You " will be
fat and flourishing," " to show that the Lord
is upright." Through the greatness of his
work your heart will be made right glad.
His greatest work redemption, will often
swell in upon your spirit with new surprise,




14             THE PALM.
and the Christ that is yours, and the Coniforter that is yours, and the heaven which is
soon to be yours, will bear back your waking glory into astonished silence and heartmurmured adoration; and lesser gifts, less,
but most precious, will be a sweet relief to
the overmastering emotion; and, by giving
outlet to the gratitude, you will sanctify the
gift, and seal it in sacredness and sweet memorial on your own soul. Habitual faith
will give perennial cheerfulness. If "fat"
you will be "flourishing."  The peace of
God within will force off the withered twigs
of care and foreboding and worldly-mindedness, and give you the daily freshness of one
careful for nothing. "I am now," writes one,
", near the end of my warfare. I never had
such a variety of affairs to manage as a man
in so much business as yourself, but I had a
large young family very dear to me, and not
enough for their maintenance from year to
year; and, in case of my death, they were
to be destitute. I was, however, wonderfully free and cheerfull in my heart. I think
I should not have been more so, if I had
been without a child. My preservative was
wholly this:'He that hath the Son hath
life.' A full and powerful conviction of this
truth was attended with constant prayer for
them and myself, that we might have this
one thing needful, which by this means grew
in price and value. Was Christ enough for
peace, comfort, and joy to the first Christians; and is He not now the same?  Will




THE PALM.               15
he not be enough for me and my children?"
And to like purport writes another: "c Yesterday I was much taken up in house affairs.
Various things occurred which would at
some tiales have been a burden, but every
thing seemed blest. These words were all
day the language of my heart:"With thee conversing I forget
All tinme, and toil, and care;
Labour is rest, and toil is sweet,
If thou, my God, be there."
Few trees can equal the palm in absolute
usefulness.  Its shadow refreshes the weary
traveller. Its sweet and abundant fruit restores his strength. And when his soul faileth hint for thirst, its welcome telegraph announces, Here is water. The light-house of
the wilderness, nature's simple hostelry, its
beacon has darted life into many a glassy eye,
and has forwarded to his home, which he
hardly hoped to see again, many a sinking
wanderer;-so that glad associations and
grateful offices have gone far to enhance its
beauty. And in the tender merey of God
there are distributed through the Church of
Christ, and consequently, through the world,
many persons who, in beneficence, flourish
like the palm. To do good and communicate they never forget. They cannot avoid
it. It is now  spontaneous with them, for
God gave them the disposition when he gave
them their new nature. Like a cool shadow
in a scorching day, their counsel revives the
E. 2




16             THE PALM.
perplexed, and their sympathy cheers the
sad. Like the clustering dates ungrudging
ly showered on the passenger, their generosity and hospitality are a boon to all who need
them. And like the palm tree pointing to
the hidden well, their sure direction guides
the weary seeker to the Fountain where he
drinks and lives forever. Such a one was
Barnabas, the Son of Consolation, in whose
large heart and tender wisdom, afflicted consciences and wounded spirits found the balm
which healed them, "4a good man, and full
of the Holy Ghost." And such were Gaius,
and Aquila, and Lydia, and Dorcas, whose
willing roof and untiring bounty made
churches their debtors, and who found in the
prayers of the poor their payment. And
such was Philip the Evangelist, who put the
timely question to the Ethiopian, and business-like and brother-like sat downt in the
chariot beside him, and pointed out so plain
that way to heaven which the earnest stranger was so fain to find. And such in later
times have been many of the Church Universal's worthies: Bernard Gilpin, whose
open hand and inviting door softened towards
the Gospel the rude heart of Northumberland; John Thornton, of whorn it was remarked, "' Were there but a thousand loving
Christians of great opulence likeminded with
him, the nation would be convinced of the
good operation of the Gospel;" William
Wilberforce, who, in addition to countless
acts of considerate philanthropy, sought out




THE PALM.              17
and sent to college young men of principle
and promise, and saw his liberality rewarded
when they became judges of the land, and
distinguished ministers of the Gospel; Howell
Harris, who filled his Trevecca mansion with
scores of disabled and destitute Christians,
and, amidst the tears of a hundred adopted
children, passed away to that beloved Saviour
whom hungry he fed, and a stranger he had
taken in;' Mrs. Fletcher, of Madeley, who
devoted her long widowhood to prayer and
active kindness, and re-peopled her desolate
home with orphans and the pious poor; John
Newton, whose dusky Coleman-street chamber shone with a heavenly radiance in many
a memory, for there, amid his affectionate explanations, the cross stood out to their tearful
view, and for the first time they learned to
find in a Saviour's side the double refuge
froml sin and from sorrow. And such in your
place and your measure may each ot you
who are Christians at all aspire to become.
", Herein is the Father glorified that ye bear
much fruit."  Kind looks, kind words, kind
deeds, advice thoughtfully and honestly given,
trouble cheerfully taken, visits to the sick and
the mourning, when your heart goes with
you and you are in a mood for prayer, gifts
of your substance, large enough to make you
interested in the cause to which you contribute, and intercessions as earnest as these
gifts are cordial: such are true fruits of right* Matt. xxv. 35, 40.
C1 a~




18             THE PALM.
eousness; such are the genuine produce of a
thriving palm.
And not to enlarge too much, we merely notice the circumstance that this interesting tree
is productive to the last, and brings forth its
best fruit in old age. The best dates are said
to be gathered when it has reached a hundred
years. So is it with eminent Christians: the
older the better; the older the more beautiful; nay, the older the more useful; and, dif:
ferent from worldlings, the older the happier.
The best Christians are those who improve
to the end, who grow in grace and in the
knowledge of Jesus Christ to the very close
of life. They loved him  at first, but now
they love him more. At first they were
selfish, and only sought to escape from wrath;
now they are jealous of the Saviour's honour,
and long to be saved from sin. At first they
only thought of the Priest; now they perceive
the Priest upon a throne, and love not only
the Saviour's cross, but the Saviour's yoke,
and the Saviour's laws. One Jesus is their
King.  And they grow  in knowledge of
themselves. The truth to which they once
assented becomes a deep-wrought experience.
"In me, that is, in my flesh, dwelleth no good
thing."  And the discovery of this depravity, the knowledge how debased and worthless their nature has become, instead of making them morose and bitter towards their fellow-sharers in the fall, makes them  lenient
and considerate. They know themselves too
well, to expect perfection in their friends, and




THE PALM.             19
find brethren to whom they can stick close in
the face of obvious failings; and even when
they hear of awful wickedness, indignation
is chastened by shame and self-consciousness.
It is something of the old Reformer's feeling
when he saw the malefactor led to prison:"c There, but for the grace of God, goes John
Bradford."  And they grow  in wisdom.
Long experience, and still more the secret of
the Lord, dispassionate observation and heavenly-mindedness, have given them. sagacity;
and sometimes in homely adages, sometimes
in direct and sober counsel, they deal forth
that mellow wisdom. And they grow in
spirituality. We have seen those aged pilgrims to whom earthly things at last grew
insipid; they had no curiosity for the news
of the day, and little taste for fresh and entertaining books. They stuck to God's testimonies, and you never went in to see them
but the ample Bible lay open on the table or
the counterpane; and they could tell the
portion which had been that morning's food,
or the meditation of the previous night.
T'he word of God dwelt in them so richly,
that you could see they were becoming fit to
dwell with God; for when a mind has become thoroughly scriptural, it wants but
another step to make it celestial. And the
last harvest came, and the last gleanings of
their precious words, and when next we
went that way, their place knew them no
longer. They were flourishing in the countv
of God's house on high, and we should &




20             THE PALM.
under their shadow and be regaled by their
goodness no more. But when we recollected how fair their Christian profession
was, how  beneficent and serviceable they
had ever been, and remembered that their
last days were their brightest, and their last
fruits their fairest, we said over to ourselves,
"4 The righteous shall flourish like the palm
tree.  Those that be planted in the house of
the Lord shall flourish in the courts of our
God. They shall bring forth fruit in old
age; they shall be fat and flourishing; to
show that the Lord is upright; he is my
Rock, and there is no unrighteousness with
him."
Dear Christian reader, when your own ear
cannot hear it, may this be your eulogy;
when your own eye cannot read it, may this
be your epitaph.  In the meanwhile, for the
sake of that Saviour who is dishonoured by
proud and selfish and unlovely disciples, do
you strive and pray for consistency. And
for your own soul's sake, which is dulled by
defective views, and depressed by each besetting sin, do you seek a serene and lofty
faith, do you covet earnestly a blameless conversation. Let your triumphs over self, and
your high-hearted zeal for the Saviour, let the
largeness of your spirit and your heavenly
elevation, let the exuberance of your goodness and the multitude of its special acts,
let the fulness of your affections and the
freshness of your feelings, and the abundance
of your beneficence, make the Christian




THE PALM.             21
manifest and unmistakable. Let your happy
piety be the far-eyed signal announcing an
oasis in the desert, and pray that your
church or congregation may  become to
weary pilgrims another Elim, where when
they came they found " twelve wells of
water, and threescore and ten palm trees."
When speaking of "the Vine,"' we tried
to indicate the true source of religious vitality. " The Cedar" we took as an emblem
of the Christian character in its strength;
and " the Palmi" as a type of its beauty.
And though the sketch has been rapid, we
fondly hope that in some'reader it has
awakened the desire to share this life, and to
behold this fair and lofty character his own.
The main thing is to begin where God
himself begins. At this moment you may
feel yourself so vile, that you do not see how
you can ever become holy. You perceive
in the past such guilt, and in the present such
sin and confusion, that you cannot imagine
how you can ever commence a career of
piety. But begin where God begins. His first
announcement is peace and good will.* His
aspect towards you is compassion and kindest entreaty. In Christ he is reconciling you
to hirnself;t and in order to enjoy the instant
friendship of the Most High, you have only
* Luke ii. 14.            t 2 Cor. v. 19.




22              THE rPALM.
to exchange the frown of aversion or distrust
for the smile of confidence and complacency.
To see a propitious God, you have only to
look up with a believing eye; and to receive
his great gift of pardon, you have only to
open  an  empty  hand.   This  is God's
method;' and if made divinely wise, you
will reciprocate  this method.  You  will
avail yourself of that atonement which cancels the past, and you will receive that proffered righteousness, which, the moment it is
yours, renders you as safe as if you were
personally and absolutely innocent. There
may be a dim devotion and an ascetic scrupulosity in which there is little of Gospel
joy; but that piety is the healthiest and
most prosperous, which from pardon accepted
dates its distinct beginning, and which from
the peace of God admitted, derives its serene
and sunny strength. Therefore, if you are
desirous of holiness, begin by accepting forgiveness.
It is in resorting to the Saviour direct and
in receiving from his divine fulness, that spiritual life begins; and it is by communion
that this life is sustained. As they sing in
the Lutheran hymn, " I live where'er I
love;"t -  if Jesus be rightly loved, tile
thoughts will be much with him, and the
life will be moulded by him. The secret of
eminent piety lies here. The Apostle had
* Rom. iii. 22, 24-26; v. 18. 1 Cor. i. 30. 1 John v. 11
t" t~ eCe Weo idc tieeC."




THE PALM.              23
fully attained it when he wrote, " I live, and
yet I live not: it is Christ who lives in me-"*
And, dear reader, the more that the thought
of the Lord Jesus mingles with your other
thoughts; the more things that you try to
do in his strength and name; the more exultingly that you realize your relation to
him; and the more vehemently that his love
constrains you, the more radiant will your
character become, and the more of heaven
will you carry with you through the world.
*Gal. ii. 20.








THE OLIVE
BY
THE REV. JAMES HAMILTON,
MINISTER OF THE FREE CHURCH, REGENT SQUARE,
LONDON.'The Lord called thy name, A green olive tree, fair, and of
goodly fruit."-JER. Xi. 16.
PHILADELPHIA:
PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION.








THE OLIVE.
THERE are two kinds of olive trees to which
reference is made in the word of God,the wild, and the cultivated. In some respects, the one may be said to bear a close
resemblance to the other, insomuch that a
superficial observer, at an early period of
the year, might not be able to discriminate
between the two. Looking merely at the
foliage, or the blossoms, or the branches, and
forming his judgment accordingly, it would
not, perhaps, be surprising if he came at once
to the conclusion, that the one was by no
means inferior to the other. But there is
one point in which they are very different.
The one is altogether sterile, or the fruit
which it produces is entirely useless, if not
positively deleterious. The other is pro-.L 2




4              THE OLIVE.
ductive of fruit,-fruit that is exceedingly
valuable,-fruit that is capable of being applied to many useful purposes. And hence
the importance of the test which the Bible
furnishes, —' By their fruits ye shall know
them."
By the same criterion we are to judge of
the religious character of men. If they are
Christians in deed and in truth, there must be
fruit. But the fruit in every case may not
be equally abundant.  In some it may be
thirty-fold; in others it may be sixty-fold;
and in others still it may be an hundred-fold.
For there are different degrees in the attainments of different Christians. They are not
all of them precisely alike. In various respects they differ from each other.  Nevertheless there is one point in which they all
agree. They come to maturity; they bring
forth fruit. That is the great test of Christian character; and unless. we can stand that
test, all our assumption of the Christian
name, all our observance of religious ordinances, all our profession of attachment to
the cause of Christ, will be of no avail. For
it is not by men's professions, but by theii
fruits that we are to know them.  By their
fruits! Not by their position in the vineyard of God. They may be planted by the
rivers of water, and fostered by the genial
influences of heaven; and yet there may
be no fruit. The tree itself may be corrupt. Not by the verdure of the foliage,not by the luxuriance of the blossoms.




THE OLIVE.              5
These may be fraught with the odour of a
sweet fragrancy, and very beautiful to look
upon; but the frost of a single night may
nip them in the bud, and the violence of a
single blast may scatter them to the winds
of heaven; and when the gathering of the
harvest comes, there may be no fruit. By
their fruits ye shall know them, not by their
appearances; the appearances may be very
good; the promises may be very fair; and
these, in due time, may be followed by the
fruit. But we are not to judge by the appearances; we are to judge by the fruit.
The fruit is the test of the goodness of the
tree.
But is there any way by which the wild
olive can be converted into the fruitful; or
any process in the natural world which demonstrates the possibility of such a change?
Most assuredly there is.  And how?  It is
not by subjecting the wild olive to the pruning-knife of' the husbandman; nor by transplanting it into a soil richly cultivated; nor
by making the fertilizing influences of heaven to descend upon it. Its natural condition,
or its essential qualities will never be materially altered by any appliances of that kind,
however carefully observed, and however,
long continued. And though the fruit may
be rendered more abundant than before, it
will still be the fruit of a corrupt tree. It is
contrary to the laws of the physical world
that it can be otherwise.
But if you take a branch, and cut it off
I *




6               THE OLIVE.
from the wild olive, and engraft it into a good
olive tree,-a tree which is distinguished for
its fatness, and which brings forth precious
fruit, then what is the result? To adopt the
significant language of the Bible, it is regenerated. It becomes like a new creation. Old
things are passed away, and all things become new. And though it may retain somewhat of its ancient and original characteristics, nevertheless it is a different kind of
sap that is now flowing through its veins, —
a different kind of blossom that is bursting
forth from  its foliage, —a different kind of
fruit that is gathered from its branches. In
fact, there is a species of conversion. The
noxious is turned into the fruitful, and that
which, by itself, or in its own nature, was
useless, or worse than useless, which was
positively pernicious, by being incorporated
with a precious or a fruit-bearing tree, is
transformed into its likeness, and imbibes its
virtuous qualities, and is productive of its
very fruit.
So it is with the regeneration of the sinner. By himself, or so long as he remains
in his natural condition, he is like a wild
olive tree. He brings forth iniquity, and
nothing else; for such is his nature; and
that nature can never be altered by anything
which he canl do for himself. He may lop
off some of the straggling branches, or devote himself to the accomplishment of something like an external reformation. But
that will never change the nature of the tree,




THE OLIVE.               7
or make any alteration in the quality of the
fruit. But when he is engrafted into Christ,
he acquires a new nature, and so becomes
fruitful in good works,-fruitful, not because
of any virtue that is inherent in himself, but because of the virtue which appertains to Christ,
in whom it hath pleased the Father that all
fulness should dwell, and which, being drawn
forth and imbibed through the exercise of a
true faith, transforms him into the likeness
of the Divine image, and converts him into a
tree of righteousness, the planting of the
Lord, that he might be glorified.
But how is it that the wild olive and the
fruit bearing are brought into contact? This
is done by the hand of the husbandman, and
the material which he employs is a lump of
dead clay. The clay is very important; it
is absolutely indispensable: but in the clay
itself there is no life, no warmth, no vitality.
It does not even convey the virtue from the
precious to the vile,-from  the good olive
tree to the wild and sterile. It only binds
them close together, and prevents them from
being severed by the rains and the tempests
of heaven. So it is with faith. Its province
is to unite the soul unto Christ, and when
that end is accomplished, its office is fulfilled.
Yet men are apt to think of it as something
altogether different from this,-as something
in itself so vital, that, instead of shutting
them up into Christ, they allow it to interpose between them, and thereby they frustrate the very object it is intended to serve.




8              THE OLIVE.
Faith itself they put in the place which ought
to be occupied by Christ; and instead of
cleaving to the living Saviour, they clasp
the dead clay, and their souls remain without
life; they experience no comfort; they produce no fruit. The object for which the
clay is used in the process of engrafting, is
not to interpose between the wild olive and
the fruitful. It is to bind them  together.
When it does that, it accomplishes the end
for which it is employed; and the vital
essence, meeting with no obstruction from
the dead clay, flows freely from the precious
into the vile. So it is with faith. Faith
does not constitute the very thing on which
we are warranted to rest as the ground of
our acceptance, or to which we are at liberty
to look as the source of our vitality.  That
is a grievous mistake, into which many fall,
and which interposes the mightiest obstacles
in the way of their salvation, and which it is
exceedingly difficult for any of us to avoid.
We are far more apt to occupy ourselves
with the operations of our own faith, than
with the living and all-sufficient Saviour,
towards whom our faith is invited to look:
the consequence of which is, that we seek to
find a Saviour to ourselves, not in Christ
bearing the burden of our iniquities in his
own body on the tree, but a Saviour, mainly
if not exclusively, in the exercises of our
own faith; and thus, though we ourselves
may nct he, aware of it, we are really going




THE OLIVE.                9
about for the establishment of a righteousness of our own.
There is no virtue, no power, no vitality,
no saving efficacy in faith itself. The efficacy,
and the power, and the virtue are in Christ.
It was faith, for example, that led the
wounded Israelite to lift his dying eye to the
brazen serpent that Moses erected in the
wilderness, and that under the conviction
that by simply looking to the uplifted ensign,
his mortal malady would be healed.  It was
faith that prompted the wretched and abandoned- prodigal to arise and return to his
father, being assured that in his father's
house there was enough and to spare for the
satisfying of all ~his wants, and that in his
father's heart there was enough and to spare
for the forgiveness of all his sins. It was
faith that induced the woman with the issue
of blood to mingle with the dense multitude
that were following upon the footsteps of the
Divine Redeemer, and without the speaking
of a single word. or the presenting of an
audible petition, to stretch forth her emaciated
hand, and to touch the hem -of his garment.
And it was faith that taught the dying male..
factor on the cross, to address the prayer of
his departing spirit to the Man of Sorrows,
whose last agonies were embittered by the
railings of his infidel associate, and around
whose cross the savage and infuriated mob
were lifting up their horrid yells of Lkasphemy; and that faith comprehended these
two things:-first, the deep and thorough




10            THE OLIVE.
conviction that he was a miserable sinner,
suffering the just punishment of his crimes
and verging on the very brink of eternal perdition;-and second, the deep and thorough
conviction, that Christ, even though brought
down to the lowest point in the scale of humiliation, with the rough nails in his hands
and in his feet, and the lacerations of the
crown of thorns on his brow, was nevertheless invested with the prerogatives of a King,
-a King who was not only able to save him
from going down to the pit, but who could
set him at his own right hand, when he was
come to his kingdom and was sitting upon
his throne. But neither in the case of the
wounded Israelite, nor in the case of the
abandoned prodigal, nor in the case of the
woman with the issue of blood, nor in the
case of the dying malefactor on the cross,
was there ought of merit or vitality in the
faith which they put forth, saving and excepting that only which flowed from the
living Saviour on whom it was fixed. Faith
unquestionably there was, bringing the soul
in its emptiness and misery into close contact
with Christ, and shutting it up into him in
whom all fulness dwells. But the faith
itself was not possessed of any inherent
power, nor was it wrought up and elaborated in the soul by means of the tears and
the penances of a dark protracted night of
sorrow. It was the act of a moment,
springing from the conviction, that in themselves they were lost, but that Christ was




THE OJLIVEo              11
abie and read-y to save them;-the act of a
moment, which  found  expression  in the
glance of a sintner's closing eye, or in the
touch of a sinner's treimlbling hand, or in the
brief petition of' a sinner's  last expiring
breath.
Observe, next, where it is that the olive
tree flourishes and brings forth fruit abundantly.   Cou -uight tihink that this would be
the case, in an eninent degree, when it was
defended i:otm the violence of every blast,
and planted in the richest soil. Yet this does
not seem  to be indispensable to the growth
or the frulitfulness of' such a tree.  On the
contrary, it is often found, spreading forth its
branches towards heaven, and laden with
the richest fruit, in places where least of all
it might have been expected, striking its
roots into the clefts of the everlasting rocks,
and  pouring  down  fatnless  on the very
ground that is covered with the stones of
emptiness, and niarked with the bleakness
of desolation.  Other trees may thrive well,
and may bring forth fruit abundantly, when
planted in a deep soil, aind sheltered fromn the
stormy blast.  But tile fatness of the olive
seems to be more dependent upon the genial
influences of hea-ven, coming  dowrn from
above, and fi-iding access to its vital parts,
through its green leaves and its expanding
blossoms, than upon the nourishment which
it receives through the instrumentality of its
spreading roots, or the rich juices which it
gathers underneath tihe ground.  It is a tres
M




12              THE OLIVE.
which rejoices in the bright sunshine, as if i
drew its sustenance firom the elements of hea
Ven, and therefore tiough all aroullld and beneath it may present the aspect of a dry and
thirsty land, where there is neither fertility
of soil, nor foulltains abounding with living
water, nevertheless, even there it is fat, and
full of sap, and flourishing.
Is it the case that the olive tree thus thrives
amtid the waste places of the wilderuness, deriving the main elements of its vitalit-y from.
above, and imnbibing oil apparently even out
of the flinty rock?  So is it with the saint
whose soul is truly united unto Christ, and
whose conversation or whose citizenship is
in heaven. His vitality is not dependent,
mainly or exclusively, on the soil that is beneath his feet,-on the nourishment,which
he derives from earth, or from earthly thilngs,
— on the materials which he gathers amid
the occupations and the enjoyrnelts of this
lower \world.  His spirit within him is nourished and sustained by the hidden manna,by the heavenlly influences that conme down
to him. in silence and witllout observation
from  tihe sanctuary that is above — by the
spiritual bread, of which if a man eat he
shall never hungler,-by the livinig water, of
which if a man drink he shall never thirst,
but which shall be in him as a well of water,
springing up  into  everiasting  life.   And
hence, his fruitfulness is not most apparent
when all things outwardly are going well
with hinm  and he seems to be walking utnder




THE OLIVE.             13
the sunshine of great worldly prosperity.
At such seasons the graces of the Spirit are
rather apt to languish and decay, and leanness and meagreness to enter into his soul.
It is when the bleakness of the wilderness is
around him, and the roots under ground are
obstructed by the hard and flinty rock, that
he spreads forth his branches overhead, and
regales himself with the dews and the genial
influences that come down upon him from
above. In fact, he is in a measure independent of the temporal and adventitious advantages to which worldly men are looking for
the main elements of their felicity. He has
food to eat which the world knows not of,
and joys with which a stranger cannot interrneddle; and these, for the most part, the
richest and the most abundant when all
other joys are gone, —light shining out of the
dark cloud, —sweetness mingled with the
bitter cup,-the oil of gladness oozing out of
the flinty rock,-the door of hope set open
in the valley of Achor,-the vision of guardian angels amid the gloom of the sepulchre,
-the lights of a glorious immortality swallowing up the dark shadows of death.
" Although the fig-tree shall not blossom,
neither shall fruit be in the vines; the labour
of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall
yield no meat; the flock shall be cut off from
the fold, and there' shall be no herd in the
stalls: yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will
joy in the God of my salvation."*
* Habakkuk iii. 17, 18.
2




14             THE OLIVE.
Observe still farther the purposes to which
the fruit of the olive tree was applied. A
rich oil was extracted out of it, which,
besides being used for common purposes,
was likewise employed for the consecration
of the priests under the law, and for imparting a sweet smelling odour to the oblations
which were presented on the altar, and also,
and more especially, for feeding the lamps of
the golden candlestick, and thereby lighting
up the dark tabernacle with the lustre of a
brilliant illumination.
Now this applies, first of all, to Christ
himself, the consecrated one, who was anointed with the oil of gladness above his
fellows, and whose name is like ointment
poured forth. He is the great High Priest
who holds the stars in his right hand, and
who walks amid the lustre of the golden
candlestick. And hence the meaning of the
vision which was seen by the prophet Zechariah:-, And the angel that talked with
me came again, and waked me, as a man
that is wakened out of his sleep, and said
unto me, What seest thou?  And I said, I
have looked, and behold a candlestick all of
gold, with a bowl upon the top of it, and his
seven lamps thereon, and seven pipes to the
seven lamps, which are upon the top thereof:
and two olive trees by it, one upon the right
side of' the bowl, and the other upon the left
side thereof... Then answered I, and said
unto him, What are these two olive trees
upon the right side of the candlestick, and




THE OLIVE.              15
upon the left side thereof?... And what
be these two olive branches which through
the two golden pipes empty the golden oil
out of themselves?... Then  said  he,
These are the two anointed ones, that stand
by the Lord of the whole eartlh."*
Now, without stopping to inquire into the
primary application of this vision, if we suppose that the two anointed ones, which the
olive trees represent, are descriptive of Christ,
and of the Holy Spirit that proceeds from
him, then it suggests this interesting and important idea, that all the light that shines
through the sanctuary, and all the fragrant
incense that is mingled with the services of
the saints, and all the rich and everlasting
consolations which are to be found in the ordinances of God's appointment, are not necessarily connected with the services themselves,
but flow forth, in heavenly influences, or
through channels of gold, from the fulness of a
living Saviour, and from  the plentiful effusions of his blessed Spirit.  Let the olive
trees be cut down, let the golden pipes be
broken, let the supplies of the sacred oil be
stopped; and straightway the lamps of the
tabernacle would be extinguished, and Ichabod might be inscribed on the gates of every
sanctuary, and on the horns of every altar;
for henceforth the light and the glory are
away. It is the presence of the anointed
ones that gives to the Bible all its vitality,
* Zech. iv. 1-14.
M2




16             THE OLIVE.
and to the promises all their sweetness, and
to the Gospel all its efficacy, and to the ordinances of the sanctuary all their preciousness
and all their power. And hence the language
of Christ himself: —" The Spirit of the Lord
God is upon me; because the Lord hath
anointed me to preach good tidings unto the
meek; he hath sent me to bind up the
broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the
captives, and the opening of the prison to
them that are bound; to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all that
mourn; to appoint unto them that mourn in
Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the
oil of joy for mourning, the garment of
praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they
might be called trees of righteousness, the
planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified."-*
But if Christ is the source and the channel
of all heavenly influences if it is from him,
and the Spirit that proceeds from him, that
there cometh down every good and every
perfect gift, it comles next to be an interesting inquiry, What was the process which
Christ himself' had to undergo, before it was
competent for these vital influences to flow
forth to us?
This brings us back again to the olive tree,
which filrnishes the materials for a striking
and memorable illustration. The illustration
0 Isaiah lxi. 1-3.




THE OLIVE.              17
is this: When the olive berries were fully
ripe, it was the practice in ancient times to
shake them off from the tree, or to beat them
down with rods. They were then gathered
together, and trodden under foot as in a
winepress, or bruised and sore broken by the
action of machinery, the result of which was
that the oil, being extracted out of the berry,
was treasured up in earthen vessels which
were sunk into the earth, and which remained
there till the sediment fell to the bottom, and
the oil, purified and refined, was in a fit
condition to be used.
Need we observe how faithfully this process has been exemplified in the case of
Christ? He himself exclaims, " I am feeble
and sore broken." "' Thy hand presseth me
sore."  "I am poured out like water, and
all my bones are out of joint."  "My strength
is dried up like a potsherd."  "M My tongue
cleaveth to my jaws."'"I am like a broken
vessel." c" And thou hast brought me unto
the dust of death."* And because he was
thus wounded for our transgressions, and
bruised for our iniquities, the oil of joy is not
only provided in rich and plentiful abundance,
but is actually poured forth into earthen vessels, and vessels of wrath that were fit only
for perdition, turning them, first of all, into
vessels of mercy, and hereafter into vessels
of everlasting glory.
But whilst this was the case in an eminent
* Psalms xxii., xxxi., xxxviii.
fZ)Y




18             THE OLIVE.
degree with Christ himself, it is so also,
though in a subordinate sense, with the members of his body.  God does not leave them
altogether unto themselves, even when they
are bringing forth fruit.  The olive berries
must be crushed and broken to pieces, not
with the view of destroying them, but for
the purpose of separating the pure oil from
the grosser elements with which it is mingled,
and thereby making it ready for the Master's
use. It may seem to be a stern process.
But it is needful; and, as it is with many
other things, a blessing comes out of it. It
is the broken rock that sends forth streams
of' living water through the wilderness. It
is the broken ground that opens its bosom for
the reception of the incorruptible seed which
springs up and which brings forth fruit abundantly. It is the broken cloud that discharges
itself in showers that usher in the spring, and
cheer the thirsty ground.  It is the broken
alabaster wherewith the poor penitent anoints
the feet of the Saviour, and which fills the
whole house with the odour of the precious
spikenard. It is the broken body which the
nails of the cross and the spear of' a niortal
enemy have pierced, that furnishes the blood
that cleanses the soul from all sin.  It is the
broken veil that opens into the holiest of all,
and gives to the believing soul bright glimpses
into the glory that is yet to be revealed.  It
is the broken grave that announces the reality of the resurrection, and proclaims to the
unbelieving disciple that the Saviour is risen




THE OLIVE.             19
indeed. It is the broken corn that is separated from the chaff, and laid up in the garner
of the husbandman, or changed into the
bread of life. And it is the broken berries
which the millstones of the olive press have
crushed, that give forth the precious oil which
fills the dark tabernacle with the radiance of
a clear and tranquillizing light.
So it is with vital Christians. It is by
means of the sifting and the crushing processes to which they are subjected by the
providence of God, that they become like the
salt of the earth-like the lamps of the tabernacle-like the lights of the world.  The
holy oil, the sacred influences they derive
from Christ. These are not inherent in themselves.  They come down c" from the Father
of lights, with whom is no variableness
neither shadow of turning." Nevertheless
they are the instruments, as in the case of a
candlestick, by which the light is diffused, by
which it is scattered abroad; and when they
are found holding forth the word of righteousness in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, amongst whom  they are
called to shine as lights in the world, they
are the means of doing much good, even
during the course of this brief and mortal
life, or while occupied with the ordinances of
the Tabernacle upon earth.
Thus much for the oil with which the fruit
of the Olive tree abounds. Even though
used for a temporary purpose, it was of great
value; for it fed the lamps of the golden can



20             THE OLIVE.
dlestick, and thereby served to bring into visible manifestation both the officiating priest
and the provisions of the table of she w-bread,
with the sacred utensils, and the rich furniture, with which the Tabernacle was adorned.
But the Tabernacle was not meant to be
permanent.  It was a temporary erection,
adapted to the circumstances of God's people,
while they were passing through the wilderness. There was another edifice which was
at once figurative of better things to come,
and destined to be more enduring; we mean
the Temple which was built at Jerusalem, or
within the precincts of the promised land.
Now it is deserving of notice that the fruit
which the Olive tree produces was not only
used in the service of the Tabernacle, which
could be done while the tree itself was yet
growing; but after the tree was cut down,
when the vitality was gone out of it, when
it was incapable of bringing forth fruit any
more, still even in that state it was not
thrown aside, as if it were altogether useless,
but being subjected to the tools of the cunning artificer, and carved into figures of exquisite beauty, it formed a part, and a most
important part, in the splendid. and magnificent Temple, where the name of God was
recorded, and unto which the tribes of Israel
went up; insomuch that it was impossible for
any one to enter into the Temple at all, or
into the most holy place, without passing
between the side-posts, or the pillars, that
were cut out of the Olive tree, and carved




THE OLIVE.            21 
into the figures of the cherubim, that were
overlaid with gold.
And wherefore was it that this kind of
wood was employed for this special purpose?
The reason probably was this. The Olive
tree, from time immemorial, has been recognized as the ensign of peace, or of reconciliation, or of good-will; and this it is by no
means unlikely may have arisen fromn the
fact, that it was a leaf of the Olive tree
plucked off which the dove brought as the
messenger of good tidings to the ark, and
which seemed to intimate to the prisoners of
hope that were within, that the wrath of
Almighty God was appeased, and that the
waters were abated from off the face of the
whole earth. And when the materials of
the same tree were made use of, both at the
outer door of the Temple and at the entrance
to the holy oracle, it seemed to intimate that
a way of access has not only been opened
into the holiest of all, but that this is emphatically a way of peace, or of reconciliation. For this is the language of an apostle,
applicable to the case of all true believers,
Gentiles as well as Jews:-" Now, in Christ
Jesus, ye who sometimes were far off; are
made nigh by the blood of Christ. For he
is our peace, who hath made both one, and
hath broken down the middle wall of partition between'us; having abolished in his
flesh the enmity, even the law of commandments contained in ordinances; for to make
in himself of twain one new man, so making




22            THIE OLIVE
peace; and that he might reconcile both unto
God in one body by the cross, having slain
the enmity thereby; and came and preached
peace to you which were afar off, and to
them that were nigh. For through him we
both have access by one Spirit unto the
Father.  Now  therefore ye are no more
strangers and foreigners, but fellow-citizens
with the saints, and of the household of God;
and are built upon the foundation of the
apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself
being the chief corner-stone; in whom all the
building fitly framed together groweth unto
an holy temple in the Lord: in whom ye also
are builded together for an habitation of God
through the Spirit." *
Therefore, if you are vital Christians,
bringing forth ripened fruit, you will not only
be the instruments of shedding floods of light
-through the tabernacle on earth, which is
meant to be temporary, but even after you
are dead, you will enter into the holiest of
all through the rent veil of the Redeemer's
flesh, and may yourselves be formed into
side-posts or pillars in the heavenly temple,
which is illuminated with the glory of God
and the Lamb-pillars that shall go no more
out, that shall never be removed like the
stakes of the temporary Tabernacle, but
which shall stand forever as monuments of
the Divine mercy, inscribed'with the name
of the living God, and overshadowed with' Eph. ii. 13-22.




THE OLIVE.             23
the cherubim who rest not day ard night,
crying unto one another, " Holy, holy, holy
is the Lord of Hosts; the heavens and the
earth are full of his glory."
It is a great matter to be lights shining in
the tabernacle that is on earth: it is a greater
matter to be pillars in the temple of God that
is in heaven. The one as well as the other
we may be through Christ, the good Olive
tree, into whom all true believers are en
grafted by faith, and on whom they are dependent for the enjoyment of all their present privileges, and for the prospect and the
realization of the coming glory.
Are you then united unto Christ, or are
you standing isolated and apart by yourselves?  If apart by yourselves you can
neither be productive of good fruit in the
present life, nor will you be found hereafter,
either as pillars embellishing the celestial
temple, or as brilliant jewels in the Saviour's
blood bought crown. Separated from Christ
you are without life, without hope, without
fruit-useless, or worse than useless-positively pernicious, fit only to be cut down as
cumberers of the ground, and cast into the
fire and burned.
But if you are engrafted into Christ you
cannot be destroyed. You can never perish.
You may be trodden as in a wine-press, or
crushed by the pressure of many heavy trials.
The axe, the hammer, the chisel, the plane,
the fire, may be all brought to bear upon
you. But these will be the instruments of
N




24            THE OLIVE.
doing you no real harm. They will only rid
you of your imperfections, and mould you
into the likeness of the Divine image, and
bring you into conformity with the heavenly
pattern, and prepare you for being pillars
amid the glories of that celestial temple,
which is paved with transparent gold, and
garnished from the walls to the very foundations with all manner of most precious stones,
and where they need no candle, neither light
of the sun nor of the moon to shine in it: for
the glory of God doth lighten it, and the
Lamb is the light thereof.




THE
CHURCH IN THE HOUSE.
REV. JAMES HAMILTON,
MINISTER OF. THE FREE CHURCH, REGENT SQUARE, LONDON
-Wherever I have a Tent, there God shall have at,
Altar."-John Howard.
PHILADELPHIA:
PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION.




Greet the Church that is in their house.-Rom. xvi. 5.
Again I say unto yo'l that if two of you shall agree
oil earth as touching any thing that they shall ask, it
shall be done for them of my Father which is in heaven.
For where two or three are gathered together in my
name, there am I in the midst of them —Matt. xviii.
19, 20.
Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom: teaching and admonishing one another in psalms,
and hymns, and spiritual songs, singing with grace in
your hearts, to the Lord.-Col. iii. 16.
I know him (Abraham) that he will command his
children and his household after him, and they shall
keen the way of the Lord.-Gen. xviii. 19.
1'ne voice of rejoicing and salvation is in the tabernacles of the righteous.-Psalm cxviii. 15.




TIlE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE.
IN Greenland, when a stranger knocks at the
door, he asks, "' Is God in this house?" And
if they answer, "c Yes;" he enters. Reader,
this little messenger knocks at your dooi
with the Greenland salutation. Is GOD IN
THIS HOUSE?  Were you like Abraham,
entertaining an angel unawares, what would
be the report he would take back to heaven?
Would he find you commanding your children and your household, and teaching them
the way of the Lord? Would he find an
altar in your dwelling? Do you worship
God with your children? Is there a Church
in your house?
If not, then God is not in your house. A
prayerless family is a godless family. It is
worse. It is a family on which Jehovah
frowns. He will pour out his fury upon it
some day. "0  Lord, pour out thy fury upon
the heathen that know thee not, and upon
the families that call not on thy name."' A
prayerless family and a heathen family are
here accounted the same.
I cannot mention all the reasons in favour
*Jer. x. 25.
3




4     THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE.
of family worship; but if you ponder them,
the four following should suffice:1. The godly householders mentioned in
Scripture practised it. Would you desire to
be like Abraham the friend of God? Wherever he pitched his tent, he builded an
altar, and called on the name of the Lord;*
and Jehovah declared, concerning him, " I
know Abraham, that he will command his
children and his household after him, and
they will keep the way of the Lord." t
Would you like to resemble Job, " the perfect and upright man, one that feared God
and eschewed evil?"  He used to bring
his children together, and rose early in
the morning, and offered a sacrifice of as
many victims as he had sons and daughters, teaching us how express and special
our intercession for our families should be,
and this he did "continually."$  Would
you resemble David, the man after God's
own heart? At the close of a busy day, we
find him going "home to bless his household."~   Do you envy Cornelius, whose
prayers were heard, and to whom the Lord
sent a special messenger to teach him the
way of salvation? He was c" a devout man,
one who feared God with all his house, and
prayed to God always;" and who was so
anxious for the salvation of his family, that
he got together his kinsmen and near friends
* Gen. xii. 7, 8 xiii. 4, 8.  t Gen. xviii. 19
* Job i. 5, 8.      ~ 1 Chron. xvi. 43.




THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE. o
that they mlight be ready to hear the apostle
when he arrived, and share with himself the
benefit.: Do you admire Aquila and Priscilla, Paulgs 66 helpers in Christ Jesus," and
who were so skilit in the Scriptures, that
they were able to teach a young minister
the way of God more perfectly?  You will
find that one reason for their familiarity
with Seriptture was, that they had 6" a Church
in their house."9-I  in the Bible you find ins
stances of fanmily devotion in all ranks of life,
from  the king to the artisan, from  David's
palace to the tent of Aquila; to teach you
that whatever be your situation in life, you
should still have a Church in your house.  I
have sometimes seen family worship in great
houses; but I have felt that God was quite
as near whenl  I knelt with a praying family
on the earthen floor of their cottage.  I have
known of family worship among the reapers in
a barn.  It used to be conimmnon in the fisling.
boats upon the friths and lakes of Scotland.
I have heard of its being observed in the
depths of a coal-pit. I scarcely know the situp
tion in life in which a willing family might
not contrive to pray together.  If you live in
a scoffing unpgodly neighbourhood, so much
the better.  Aibrahaml  built his altar whilst
heathen Canaanites looked on.  He lifted up
a testimony for God, and God honoured him
so that Abimelech, his neighbour was conA Acts x. 2, 24, 31, 33.
[ Acts.xviii. 26; Romn. xvi 5.
I -I'-1




6 THE CHURCH IN THE 1 USE,
strained to say, -6 God is with thee in all that
thou doest."2. VVlnerever religion revives, family wor
ship abounds.  When the Spirit is poured
out Upon the house of' David, "the land shall
mourn, every famnily apart."t  I can re
member no instance of a great revival, of
which this was not an attendant sign. Listen
to the account which Mr. Baxter gives of
Kiddermiinster during his nministry.  9" On
the Lord's day there was no disorder to be
seen in the streets, but you might hear a hunm
dred families singing psalms and repeating
sermons, as you passed. through the streetso
When I came thither first, there was about
one family in a street that worshipped God
and called on his name, and when I came
away, there were some streets, where there
was not above one family in the side of a,
street that did not so; and that did not by
professing serious godliness give us some
hopes of their sincerity: and those families
which were the worst, being inns and alehouses, usually some persons in each did
seem to be religious.  Some of the poor men
did competently understand the body of di
vinity, and were able to judge in diffecult:controversies.  Some of them  were so able in
prayer -that very few ministers did match
them in order, and fuilness and apt expres
sions, and holy oratory with fervency-. Abun
dance of them were able to pray very laud' C-eno xxi. 22,     t Zech, x. 12.




THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE.       7
ably with their families, or with others. The
temper of their minds and the innocency of
their lives was much more laudable than
their parts."  When the Spirit is poured
upon us, our cities will all present a similar
aspect.
3. It would make your home much happier if you had a church in your house. It
has been said with much truth, " Family
prayer is the oil which removes friction and
causes all the complicated wheels of the
family to move smoothly and noiselessly."
It is one way, and the very best, for bringing
all the members of a family together, and
for promoting that harmony of feeling so
essential to domestic enjoyment. Some farnilies are held together by hardly any bond,
except that they lodge under the same roof,
and assemble round the same board. But
when they meet, it is not to fulfil one another's joy. They are selfish and sullen;
cross words, peevish answers, and angry recriminations make up all their intercourse.
The customary meal is despatched in a gloomy
silence, or embittered by fretful words. I
have known families so little a home with
one another, that it was quite a relief when
any casual visiter dropped in to break the
irksomeness of their own society. I have
seen brothers and sisters so ill-assorted in the
families in which God had planted them
together, that they had no subject of common interest and no mutual love nor confidence. They could converse and be happy




8      THE CDURCH IN THE IHOUSEU
with st-rangers, but not -withl one another
And I have seen this in fanlilies where there
was a form of family Nworship, —a pretence,
a semblance of prayer-but never wrhere
there was the reality,  If yours be such a
fa.mily, before peace and affection visit it,
you must  say, 66 Come and let us seek the
Lord.":  If you. would see the dawn of
blander dcays onl that clouded and lowering circle you mnlus cry, 6G Lord lift thou iup the light
of thy countenance upon us, and so we shall
be glad."  If- you could only persuade them
to take into their hands the volume that
speaks good will to man, and as they sit together to read by- turns its messages of kilnd
ness; and then as they bowed  before the
mlercy-seat, if in their common name, you
said, Ou? FatC,/er', and confessed their commorn siuns, retlurned thanks for any mzercies
which the day hlad brought, and asked such
blessings as all need, this process could not
be long persisted in, till you would see its
softening and haarmonizing influence.  The
dew of'i ernionl would begin to come downi
and you would exclain as you saw -the differ-.
elce  B6 1ehold 10how good and how pleasant
it is for brethreni to dwTell together in un.ity."'"
But perhaps your fanmily dwells in unity —
but it is not a holy unity.  It is not sanctified
by the word of God and by prayer. You
are happy in one another.  You are never
at a loss for the materials of a cheerful intera
" Psalm exxxiii




THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE.        9
course. But amidst all tle sprightliness, and
cordiality, and kind feeling which encompass
your fireside, one ingredient of gladness is
wanting.  God is forgotten. In the morning you meet and give one another a joyous
greeting, and, the morning meal despatched,
rush away to the day's engagements without
a word of acknowledgment to that God whose
sleepless eye guarded your midnight pillow
-without one word of prayer to bespeak his
upholding and guidance in this day's untrodden path. And when the evening hour
of intercourse is over, and you have discussed the pleasant or prosperous incidents
of the day, you hie away, cheerful but unthankful, to a prayerless slumber, perhaps to
awake in death's dark valley, and find that
the Lord is not with you. Your family is
united-but it is a short-lived union. Yohir
family-love-God is not in it, and therefore
heaven does not follow after it. How  it
would give tone and intensity to the affection
of your smiling circle, if you could be brought
to love one another in the Lord!  With
what new eyes you would learn to look upon
yourselves, if you came to regard one another as brethren for eternity! And how it
would heighten bliss, and take the sharpness
out of, sorrow, if "for ever with the Lord,"
were the thought which joy and grief most
readily suggested!  Were it manifest of
all the members of a family that God is their
Father, Christ their elder Brother, and the
Holy Spirit their Comforter, such a family




10    THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE.
would possess a joy which the removal of no
member could take away. That joy has
often come into households through the channel of domestic devotion. For,
4. Family worship is an ordinance which
God has often blessed to the saving of souls.
In houses where it is conducted with life and
feeling, it has often proved a converting ordinance. A few years ago, an English gentleman visited America, and spent some days
with a pious friend.  He was a man of
talent and accomplishments, but an infidel.
Four years afterwards he returned to the
same house, a Christian. They wondered
at the change, but little suspected when and
where it had originated. He told them that
when he was present at their family worship,
on the first evening of his former visit, and
when after the chapter was read, they all
knelt down to pray-the recollection of such
scenes in his father's house long years ago,
rushed in on his memory, so that he did not
hear a single word.  But the occurrence
made him think, and his thoughtfulness
ended in his leaving the howling wilderness
of infidelity, and finding a quiet rest in the
salvation wrought out by Jesus Christ. In
his Fireside, Mr. Abbot tells us of a gay
young lady who paid a visit of a week in
the family of a minister, an eminently holy
man. His fervent intercessions for his children and the other inmates of his dwelling,
went to this thoughtless heart: they were
the Spirit's arrow, and upon that family




TH E CHURCHY IN THE HOUSE.,    It
aitar, his visiter was enabled to present herself a living sacnrifice  t-o God.  It is with the
Church in the houtse as viilh t he clinrch in
the village.  Tlie wavyirer many get a word
in passing, whilich he never can forget.  The
stran:ger that turlns aside to tarry for a night
may hear at vyol -jllily worship a word
that Awill save his SOd1.   Some years ago, an
Irish wandererT lit  ife alnd his sister, asked
a night's shelter in  the cabin of a pious
schoolmiaster.  Witili the characteristic hospitality of his nation, the schooln-)aster rmade
theni welcomte.  It vwas his hour for evenling
Nworship, and wrhen the strangers were seated,
he began by readinj slowly an3d solemnly,
the second  chapter of' the Epistle -to the
Ephesians.  The younlg man sat astonished.
The expressions, - dead in trespasses and
sins," G ch ildren of wrath,"  66 walking after
the course of' this world"i 9 were new to himn
He sought an explaUationo  He was told that
this is God's aconui-t of the state of mana by
nature.  HIe felt that it wasit   as  eactly his own
state.  -" In1 this way I have walked from my
childhood.   In the service of the god of this
world we have  cotn  to your house."'  -He
was on the wtNay to a iair,'where'he intended
to pass a qunltity of counteribit rmoney. Biut
God's wvord had foo,_nd him out.  He prodnced his store of coinfo    anld begged his host to
cast in into the fire  and asked anxiously it
fhe could not obtain the word of God fbor
himself.  His request was complied  with,
and next morning, with the neow  treasure,




1. 2   THiE CHIURCH IN THE HOUSE.
the party, who had aow nlo errand to the
fair, returned to theiDr own homie.  Perhaps,
by this tilme, ihe p)iotis schoolmaster has met
his gttest wiit-in the gaates of the citvr outside
of  whicch are thieves, anld \Vlhatoe,Ter imaketh
a lie.  aBut I acllo  enImerate all the conversions wvi ich haxte occurred at the Church
in tte house.  Mlany servants have been
awakened  there~   Children ha-e often heard
there.truths,  whicih  when the SpTirit brought
them  to remTiemibrance  in after days-perhaps, inl days of' profiigacy,  and. when f;ar
frorni their laLIn'ler's mutise —have sent honme
the p odig al. i it is rnot only of Zion's solemn
assemnblies' buA t of Jacob's humn le dwxellings
-the  iittle -fireside sanctuaries -- that the
Lord shall coulrnt, when he writeth up the
people 6This mat -uas borin there."  fIn
vour house there have beenl nperlhaps, several
iimmortal spirits born into the workld   Have
there been any born agnain?
Pra-yerlress anrentss   Your irireligion may
prove  your chidiren's damnnation~  They
mioht have  been wit hin the fold of' the
Saxvio-ur by this tine lehad not you 11i-ndered
them  when entering in.  That t    nimne w vhen
God visiten ycour fa(mnily w xithl- a heaxv  stroke,
they were thoughttf -li Fa season, but there
x-vas no Chrrehl in Vour o louse to omve a h1envenily direction to thta thoo'-hltiuliess, and it
soon died away.  Th-at even.ilw V-ilheal they
came home from thle Sabbath- School so seriOus, if you had been a pious father or
nmother, you would have taken your boy




THE CHUICTH IN THE HOTJSE.        ]3
aside, and spoken tenderly to him, and asked
what his teaclh-er hLad been- telling him, and
you would have prayed with him, and tried
to deepen the im pression.  But your children came in fiom the Church or school, and
fournd no Church in their faither's house.
Their hearts were softe-ned, but your woridminess soon hardened theLnm  The seed of the
kingdom  was just spingil-nig in their souls
and by this timie mingaht have been a rich haer
-rest of salvation; bu111t inl the atmosphere of
your  unmlodiy house, the tender blade with
ered ilstantl.yo  Yo  r idle tallk, your frivolity
your Sunlday visitels, your pranyerless even
iDg, ruiled all. Your children-  weie coming
to Christ, and you stffered them- not.  And
you will niot need to hinder them long. The
carnal mind is enrynity against God; but no
enmlity so deep as theirs who were almost:
reconciled and then drew back.  You drove
your children bachk. You hardened themri.
They may never more.be moved.  They
-may grow  ulp as prayerless and ungodly
as yourself,  If' God should change you,
they may soon be too hard for your own
tears and entreaties. If you die as you are,
their evil. works will follow you to the world
of woe, and pour new inlgredients into your
own cup of' wratlh.  Oh! think of these
things.  A  prayerless louse is not onlly a
cheerless onle, biut it is a guilty one; fo3r
where God is niot, -stiere Satan is.
But I knl'ow   ot w1hy   shlould multiplyp'words to prove a diltvy u'Mhil nature teaches.?




14     THE CHUIRCH IN THE HOIUSE.
The poor Pag'an, with his household gods
and family altar, will rise in the judgment
agcainst some of this generation and will condemna theme.  instead, therefore, of' saying
more on the obligation and advantages of
this most reasonlable service, I shall eldeavour
to give some plain directions to those into
whose hearts the Lord has put the desire to
begin it.
1. Can you sing? or is there any one in
the house who can? You will find it enliven
the service wonderfully if you can make " a
joyful noise uvlto the Lord."  The psalm
or hymrn is a part of thle service which the
youngest enjoy, and in which they will gladly
take a share.
2. There is the reading of' the word of
God. You rmay go straight through, or you
may select a coulrse of subjects. For instance,
Vuo  mig'ht read the parables as one series,
and the miracles of Christ as another.  You
might select the biographical portions, and
read the lives of APdam, Noah-,  braham,
Peter, Paul, &c; or youll   ight read the
Epistles in connection with the history of the
Churches or ildividuals to whom  they are
addressed.  Thus you rmight compare Ephep
sians wi-h Acts xviii.-xx., antd with Rev. ii.
1 -8  or Thessalonians with Acts xvii. 11; andlC you migt compare the Psalms with
the per'iod in David's history when each was
written, and the Prophecies with those passages which record their fulfilmnent-a com-,
paiison, which a Bible, with good marginal




THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE.          15
references, will enable you to make. Or you
may select passages appropriate to particular
seasons. On the morning of a Lord's day,
you might read Psalm xlviii., lxiii., lxxxiv.,
xcii., cxviii.; John xx.; Rev. i., &c.  On a
sacramental Sabbath, Psalm xxii., xlv.; Isa.
liii.; Matt. xxvi.; John vi., &c.  It might
help to keep attention awake, if each read a
verse in rotation.  At other times there
might be more solemnity if the same person
read the whole continuously. It would make
it more impressive and more'memorable, if
you occasionally asked a question, or made a
few remarks on the passage read. For instance, you read the nineteenth of Luke, and
this is your commentary as you go along.
1. "And Jesus entered and passed through Jericho.
2. " And behold there was a man named Zaccheus,
which was the chief among the publicans (or taxgatherers,) and he was rich.
3. " And he sought to see Jesus, who he was: and
could not for the press, because he was little of
stature."
This was the last time that Jesus passed
through'Jericho.  He had often passed quietly through it before; but now his time was
fully come, and he could not be hid.  The
road was full of passengers at this season at
any rate; for it was Passover time, and they
were all going up to Jerusalem. Besides,
the sensation in Jericho was increased by the
miracle which Jesus had just wrought on the
blind beggar, and which we read in the last
chapter yesterday. The crowd was so great




1.6    THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE.
that Zaccheus could get no opening to push
through, and he was so little that he could
not see over other people's shoulders.
4. "And he ran before, and climbed up into a sycamore tree to see him: for he was to pass that way.
5. "And when Jesus came to the place he looked
up, and saw him, and said unto him, Zaccheus, make
haste, and come down; for to-day I must abide at thy
house."
How surprised he must have been!  Up
in the leafy sycamore, he never expected to
be noticed. But see! Jesus stands still and
looks at him as if he were about to speak.
Perhaps Zaccheus expected to get a rebuke
before the multitude for his villanies, when
Jesus, in his own gentle way, just says,
4" Zaccheus, make haste, and come down;
for to-day I must abide at thy house." Grace
went with the word.
6. " And he made haste, and came down, and received him joyfully.
7. " And when they saw it, they all murmured, saying, That he was gone to be guest with a man that is
a sinner."
There were many who felt that they had
a better right to this distinction than the
mean, grasping tax-gatherer.  Many of them
felt as if they were not SINNERS. It lowered
their opinion of Christ, that he would condescend to become the guest of such a man.
They little knew the reason.
8. " And Zaccheus stood, and said unto the Lord,
Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor:




THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE.           17
and if I have taken ally thing from any man by false
accusation, I restore him fourfbld."
How glad he must have been!  A happy
heart devises liberal things-and so happy
had this visit made him, that his greedy soul
had no longer love for money.  He stood up
like one on whom  a sudden thought had
come, or who wished to give solemnity to
what he said, and declared that he would
make it all up to those whom he had wrongs
ed, and give half his substance to the poor.
This was  the  effect of receiving  Jesus.
Where the love of' Christ enters, the love of
the world goes out.  What would the murmnurers think whena they saw  this change
upon the "; sinner?"
9. "6 And Jesus said unto him, This day is salvation
come to this house, forasrmuch as he also is a son of
Abraham."
It was his "6joyfiul receiving99 of Jesus
which made him  a son of Abrahama.  It
nade him  more.  It made hitm  one of the
sons of God.   - Hiave we received Christ?
Has his voice ever nmade us joyful?  Have
we ever parted with c" goods," or any thing
else from gratitude to Him?  Now let us remember the nextversefor it is one of' Christ's
own faithfu l sayings.
10.'6 For the Son of Man is come to seek and to
save that which was lost."
This is one way.  Another, and perhaps
* John i. 12.
2 o'




18     THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE.
better way, is to make the members of the
f~,amily supply the commentary themselves.
This evening, before it is so late that you are
all sleepy, you sit round the table, each with
his Bible open before himn; and the passage
selected is the forty-fifth of Isaiah.
1. " Thus saith the Lord to his anointed, to Cyrus,
whose right hand I have holden, to subdue nations befbre himt and I will loose the loins of kings to open
before him the two-leaved gates; and the gates shall
not be shut."
Fat/her. The prophet has been foretelling
the fall of Babylon, and here he names its
conqueror.  AMary, what is his name?
MCar.y. Cyrus.
Fatcler. Does any one know  how  loing
after this it was before Cyrus made his appearance? —Cain no one tell?  George, your
Bible has got the date on its margin.  Can
you tell when Isaiah uttered this prophecy?
George. About 712 years before Christ.
Father,. Now if you will look to the beginninog of' Ezra, you will see the first year
of Cyrus set down there.
George. Before Christ 536.
FalzZer. Then  how  long before had the
Lord called Cyrus by his name?
George. N early 200 years.
Faclher. It is not very long since John and
reiry finished the s Life of Cyru.s."  Do you.remember any facts which illustrate this prophecy?
Henry. The Lord says, c I have holden
nis right hand to subdue nations before him."




THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE.    }9
Cyrus subdued the Lydians with their rich,
King Crcesus, the Phrygians, the Phceniclans, and mnaty more, as well as the Babylonians.
John. Yes; and when he took Babylon,
"the gates were not shut.7"  For the people
were all drinking and diverting themselves,
when he dried up the river; and had forgot
to shut the gates at the end of the streets
which open into the river-so that Cyrus
had nothing to do but march down the dry
channel, and then climb up the banks into
the city.
Father. Very true-but do you remin.ember
nothingr more about 6" opening the two-leaved
gates?99
Henry. Oh, yes! When the king of' BabyIon heard the uproar in the city, he sent to
find out what was the matter, and when they
were opening the palace gates to let out the
king's messenger, the Persians rushed in and
killed the king.
Try to bring out some lesson that may be
needed that very day. You read at morning
worship that verse,. Cor. x. 31.
"Whether, therefore, ye eat or drink, or whatsoever
ye do, do all to the glory of God."
Father. %What does that mean?
John. That every thing, however little, we
are to do so as to please God.
Father. Quite so. It means that you,
children, when learning your lessons or at
play —that Sarah down stairs, and your father




20      THE T CHURCH IN THE HOUSE.
in his countingl roonm, should all remember
that we have a Father in Heaven, and should
do every thii'g, the little things and the great
things, in the wary that pleases Him..Mother. This was the principle on which
Oberlin acted.  Here is a passage which I
marked, when I read his life not long ago.
"The views of religion which Oberlin entertained,
made him bring the greatest principles to the minutest
operation.  lHe would take a stone out of the road, if
it were likely to incommode a traveller, on the principle of love to his neighbour; and in this manner he
argued respecting all the duties in which mankind are
engaged.  Take, for instance, a direction to his people on planting trees.  This, with other men, would
be an affiir of convenience; with him, in his circumstances, it was a religious duty. He thus addressed
his parishioners:"Novezmber 18th, 1803.
",,)EAR FRIENDS,
" Satan the enemy of mankind, rejoices when we
demolish and destrovy. Our Lord Jesus Christ, on the
contrary, rejoices when wve labour fir the pmublic good.
You all desire to be saved by him, and hope to become
partakers of his glory. Please Him, then, by every
possible means, duringo the remainder of the time
you may have to live in this world. He is pleased,
when, from the principle of love, you plant trees for
the public benefit. Noow is the season.  Be willing.
then, to plant them.  Plant then also in the best possible manner.  Remember you do it to please him.
Put all your roads into good condition; ornament
them; employ some of your trees for this purpose, and
attend to their growth,'"
Father. \WTell, let us do like Oberlin.  Let
us be kind, and obliging, and useful; and




THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE.    21
remember that nothing is so little, but that
we may do it to the glory of God.
The passage which you mean to read
with your family, read carefully over beforehand; and conlsider what are its most striking points and  -ost useful lessons: and a
little practice wvill maake you a good family
expositor.
3. The'last and most important part of
family worship is united prayer. By prayer,
I mean the outnrouring  of an earnes't heart in
the name of Jesus. It is not prayer when
you merely read or repeat a heartless form.
You do not ask a blessing on your daily
bread, wxven you irerel.y nmtutter over it a
charm-a fewi inarticulate words for custom's
sake.  Nor do you pray when you bend the
knee, and read or say a few petittiols which
you do not feel, and wlich v you forget as
soon as you have uttered. It is praye,  when
you ask fromll God blessings wuliChL you are
really anxious to obtain, and whenn in a conviction of' your own unlvorth-iness, you ask
therm for the sake of Him  who indeed is
worthy, the well belovedl Son of God.  It is
prayer, when you ask so earnestly that you
remember afterwards what you sought, and
so believingly, that, looking up, you expect
an answer.  Be earnest.  Better no prayer,
than give your family a distaste at prayer,
by your dulness and formality.  Be honest.
Deal truly with the God of Truth.  Do not
mock the Searcher of hearts.  Give yourself to the Lord-then set up his worship.




22     THE CHURCH IN TITE HOUSEo
Go to the Lord Jesus yourself, and then seek
to bring ybur children with you.
n. family prayer you may be more miinute
and specific than it is possible to be in more
public services.  Tf you have a deep reverence. of God upon your mind, there is no fear
that particulariit y will degenerate into an unholy farniliarity.  if any of' your friends are
in afflictiou pra)y for them. If your children
are at schoo!' or at a Sabbath-class, pray for
their teacher.  Pray for your brethren in
church-fellowship, that the beauty of the
Lord may be upon thlenm, and that they rnay
dwell in love. Pray for the office-bearers
of your Churlach; pray for your minister.
Endeavour to interest your family in the extension of thle Redeeimer's kingdom, and pray
for faithl-ful minisiers and missionaries, especially in those places in which you feel most
interested.  Every -morning commait -your
way to God.  -Bespeak his presence in all
the duties and temptations of the day-his
blessing on your intercourse; and especially
on any means of grace, which you hope to
enjoy. Every niig1t commnlend yourselves to
his watchful keeping, that you may sleep and
wake with himn.  Pray over the Scriptures
you have read. And abound in thantlkslgii
ing.  Cultivate a chleerful and a gratefftl
spirit: think if there be any mercies you have
lately received, and acknowledge therm. Has
any one arrived froim  a journey safi  and
well?  Is a sick member of the family restored?  Have you heard good news from




THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE,         3
the far country, tidings from  the Atbsenlt
brother? Were you at church or at thLe prayer meeting this evenin'g, and did you find it
refreshing?  Have you read in your 66 Missionary  Macazine"  the conversion  of a
heathen or a Jew?  Have you heard that
God is pouring out his Spirit on some cornei
of our own country?  Have you got an answer to a former prayer?  Praise the Lord,
for it is pleasant.
It will depend on the age of your family
and the amount of your leisure, how long
the service should be.  Some hurry it over
in a way which shows that they have no
heart in it themselves.  Others prolong it so,
that every one else is -wearied. Ten minutes
of a formal service will look longer than
twice the time when the whole soul is in it.
Be consistent.  " Behave yourself wisely
in a perfect way. VWalk within your house
with a perfect heart.""9   If you be devout
in prayer, and unholy in practice; if you be
heavenly-minded at the hour of worship,
and frivolous or proud, or passionate all the
day; if you teach your children in the morning, " Be not conformed to this world," and
if half' the day's lessons be designed to conform them to the world as nearly as possible;
if you pray for your household that you may
be all meek, and gentle, and kinrdly-affectioned one to another, and then treat your
servants as haughtily as if they were your
* Psalm ciL 2




24     THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE.
slaves or your enels.ies; your contradictory
prayers and practices will be a terrible stumbling-block itn their way, to the kirlgdom. Gfod
may convert them; but your conduct will
make that miracle of grace more surprising
still.
Reader, I do not know whether by this
time you are almost persuaded or have actually determined to begin.  ~When I think
what you are losing who are strangers to
this delightful exercise, and when I further
think on the blessed results which might flow
from your now begilnming it, I am  loath to
leave off-though it is time we were done.
Do you still hesitate? What is your excuse?
6  never saw the advantages you describe.
It has alwayTs been a dull service wherever
I have seen it."  But ytou need not make it
dull.  Throw your whole heart and soul into
it, and it will be lively enough.  It is often
dull because it is a mere form. Do you make
it a living service, and it will not be dull.
It is often dull because it is tedious.  Do not
spin it out. Better one paragraph of Scripture, feelingly and intelligently read, than a
whole chapter listlessly draNwled over.  Better a prayer ino longer than the publican's,:
if the whole soul be in it, than a weary fortm
without feeling.  Be fervent, and you will
not be dull.  Familv prayer has often been
so conducted, that instead of wearying at it,
children felt it a punishment to be excluded.
" Luke xviii. 13,




THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE.    25
I was once told of a cottage patriarch who
was born in those days, when Scotland had
a Church in almost every house. There was
one in his father's dwelling; and when he
pitched a tent for himself he builded an altar.
Round that altar a goodly number of olive
plants grew up, but, one by one they were
either planted out in families of their own, or
God took them, till he and his old partner
found themselves, just as at their first outset
in life, alone. But their family worship continlued as of old. At last his fellow traveller
left him. Still he carried on the family worship by himself. So sweet was the memory
of it in his father's house, and so pleasant
had he found it in his own, that he could not
give it up. But as he sat in his silent habitation, morning and evening, his quivering
voice was overheard singing the old psalmtune, reading aloud the chapter, and praying
as if others still worshipped by his side. He
had not found it dull.
"I have no time."  If you really value
time, famnily prayer is good husbandry of
time. What you do with God's blessing is
much better and faster done, than what you
do without it, and is not so likely to need
doing over again. You will find it here as
Sir Matthew Hale found- it with the Sabbath.
What you take from God, he can easily take
from you. If other things were equal, I
should expect far more to be accomplished
in a day, by the man whose spirit had been
tranquillized, his resolution fortified, and his
3




26    THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE.
activity quickened by morning prayer, than
from the man who impiously hurried out to
do it all without asking God's presence.
Philip Henry, who was an excellent economist of time, when early out of bed to hasten
the preparations for a day's travel, as he
called his children together, used to say to
them, "Prayer and provender hinder no
man's journey." Try his homely maxim and
you will find it true.
" Our family is so small."  How many
are there of you? Are there two? Then,
"Wheresoever two," (see Matt. xviii. 19, 20.)
John Howard and his valet, as they journeyed from place, used to have family worship by themselves, if they could get no one
else to join them.  c "Wherever I have a
tent," he would say, "c there God shall have
an altar." If there be two of you-though
it should be but a Ruth and a Naomi, a
mother and her daughter, your family is large
enough to worship God, and to get the blessing of those who worship him.
4"My family is so large. There are so
many servants, and often so many visiters,
that I have not courage to begin." If your
family be large, the obligation to begin is all
the greater. Many suffer by your neglect.
And if your congregation be numerous, the
likelihood that some good will be done is the
greater; for there are more to share the
benefit. And why want courage?  Should
not the very fact that you are acknowledging
God encourage you? " Them that honour




THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE.    27
me, I will honour."  Begin it believingly,
and in the very attempt courage will come.
" Blut I have no gift of prayer. I cannot
lead tne devotions of my fabmily." Prayer
is the gift of the Holy Spirit.* Before you
begin, ask God to give you his Spirit to teach
you.t  I have heard of stammering men
who were eloquent in prayer, for the Spirit
of God spake by them. When you pray,
remember that God is listening. You have
called on him to hearken. You have asked
him to lend you an attentive ear, for you are
about to ask mercies for yourself and your
dearest friends. Remember that God is listening, and you will forget that men are
hearkening. And they in their turn when
they find that you are really praying, will
have no time to criticise-for they will be
constrained to join you in your prayer.
But perhaps I have not after all touched
your real objection. You refuse to pray in
your family, because you know that you
do not pray in your closet. You evade it,
because you know that your life is such that
family worship would, in your case, be a
mockery, and would only add hypocrisy to
sin. Or you are under the influence of that
false shame which will be felt to be the
most shamefiul of all things, when the now
affronted Son of God comes again in his
glory.1 Is it so? And are you about to
throw away this tract with your purpose un* Rom. viii. 26. t Luke xi. 13. t Mark viii. 38.




28    THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE.
changed? Then I can only say, that the
day is coming, when you will wish that you
never had any brethren (Luke xvi. 27)that the Lord had written you childless-that
you had been a poor outcast with no roof
to shelter you, rather than the ungodly husband and father and master, which you this
day are-for then you had been free from
blood-guiltiness in the case of others' souls.
The considerations by which I have tried
to urge you to a discharge of this duty are,
the obligations which you owe to yourselves,
to your children, and to God: to yourselves,
who will never have the same inward happiness, nor the same satisfaction in your family
circle, till once the voice of rejoicing, the
melody and praise which are heard in the
tabernacles of the righteous, be heard in
your own: to your children, who will rise
up and call you blessed, if you guide their
feet into the way of peace: to God, who
offers to become the never slumbering keeper
of you and yours, and to uphold your going
out and coming in from this time forth for
ever. These are the considerations I have
used. Some of you may think that I would
have succeeded better if I had dwelt on the
beautiful and picturesque of family religion;
if I had carried you back to the time when
the glory of domestic piety had her habitation in our land, when villages and towns
presented a look of Sabbath quietness at the
hour of morning prayer, and when night
succeeding night repeated the praises of God




THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE.    29
from the lonely upland cottage, to the hamlet
on the plain. I might have done this; and
I might have planted you amidst the wor
shipping household, and invited you to listen
to the cordial music of their psalm, and the
pathos and fervour of their prayer. But
one thing hinders me. I know that all that
is beautiful and picturesque in domestic devotion, has not only been witnessed but described by those whom its loveliness could
never win to an imitation. It is one thing
for a heart full of sensibility to be touched by
contemplating the beauty and the joys of
true devotion, and quite another thing for a
renewed heart to feel these joys. Hundreds
have been melted by the matchless poem, in
which the bard of Scotland describes the
worship of a cottage patriarch; but the Cottar's Saturday Night never taught any
man to pray. It is told of Sir Walter Scott,
that sometimes of an evening he took his
guests to an arbour on his lawn, and let them
hear the distant music of a sacred tune. It
came from the cottage of one of his dependents, and fell touchingly on the ear of the
great minstrel himself-but it only touched
the ear. He and his visiters went back to
the drawing-room. at Abbotsford, but it was
not to raise with their better skill an evening
hymn of thanksgiving to the God of all their
mercies. The distant cadence of a covenanting melody was somewhat romantic, but
nearer hand it would have blended ill with
the dance and the tabret. They all agreed




30      THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE.
that the voice of psalms from a cottage was
picturesque-but that in the mansion, the
harp and the viol'would be more appropriate.`  If higher considerations have no
weight, I am sure that a little picture work
will not prevail upon you.
Fathers and brethren, some of you are the
heads of happy families to-day. All that I
ask is, that you would make them happier
still —happy, not only in your love, but in
the love of God the Saviour, happy for time
and through eternity. The happiest family
will not be always so.  The most smiling
circle will be in tears some day. All that I
ask is, that you would secure for yourselves
and your children, a friend in that blessed
Redeemer, who will wipe all tears from all
* These merry halls were soon after silent, and. " the
voice of harpers, and musicians, and of pipers," has
never since been heard in them. The "psalm-singing"
servant was a brother. born for adversity, and on the
breaking-up of the establishment, refused to leave his
master, and rather than leave him offered to serve for
nothing. In his new post of ploughman, it affected the
poor Baronet to hear " Old Peep " whistling to his team,
as he trod the fresh-turned furrows.  It was a change
to both; but it would seem that the one possessed a
source of perennial joy which outward calamities could
not dry up nor trouble. And after all, in an angel's eye,
which is the greater genius-the sublimer spirit-the
poet on his Pegasus, or the peasant, who in the hour
of calamity can take the wings of a dove, and fly away
and be at rest? Who that has read the latter days of
Robert Burns, does not wish that he had been his own
Cottar?  He sometimes wished it himself. The son
of Bosor is not the only man whom the sight of Jacob's
goodly tents has made to sigh, " Let me die the death of
the righteous."




THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE.    31
faces. Your families may soon. be scattered,
and familiar voices may cease to echo within
your walls. They may go each to his own,
and some of them may go far away. 0 see
to it, that the God of Bethel goes with them,
that they set up an altar, even on a distant
shore, and sing the Lord's song in that foreign
land.  They may be taken from  this earth
altogether, and leave you alone.' 0 see to
it, that as one after another goes, it may be
to their Father's house above, and to sing
with heavenly voices, and to a heavenly
harp, the song which they first learned from
you, and with you often sang together here
-the song of Moses and the Lamb.  And
if you be taken, and some of them be left,
see to it that you leave them the thankful
assurance that you are gone to their Father,
and your Father, their God, and your God.
And, in the meanwhile, let your united worship be so frequent and so fervent, that when
you are taken from their head, the one
whose sad office it is to supply your place, as
priest of that household, shall not be able to
select a chapter or a psalm, with which your
living image and voice are not associated,
and in which you, though dead, are not yet
speaking to them. And thus my heart's wish
for you all,
When soon or late you reach that coast,
O'er life's rough ocean driven;
May you rejoice, no wanderer lost,
A family in heaven.
National Scotch Church, Regent-square,
January 1st, 1842.




EXTRACT FROM ~C THOUGHTS ON FAMILY WORSHIP," BY THE REV. JAMES W. ALEXANDER,
OF NEW YORK, PUBLISHED BY THE PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION.
EVERY portion of what has preceded has
tended to the single point of inducing the
reader to maintain the worship of God in his
house, but it is desirable to make the appeal
even more closely, and as it were personally,
to the heart and conscience. Laying aside,
therefore, all more ceremonious modes of
approach, I would respectfully and affectionately address myself to the individual professor of religion.
You are, by Providence, set at the head of
a faimily, to support it, instruct it, guard it,
and in every way care for its temporal and
eternal good. We offer to you a simple
means of contributing to the greatest of these
objects; and we have, at some length, dwelt
upon its excellencies and fruits. Our plea is
for those whom you love the best, for your
own flesh and blood. No human language
can well go beyond the importance of the
domestic relation. On this point you require
no prompting. When you return from the
toils and distractions of the day, and sit at
home, amidst the little quiet circle, you feel
that you are among your chief wealth. This
32




PAMILY WORSHIP.              33
is your treasure.  The law  makes it your
castle, and religion may make it your sanctuary. As your eye rests on the wife of
your bosom, and the pledges of your mutual
love, you silently give thanks to God, and
sometimes your heart overflows in earnest
wishes for the good of each beloved object.
Withhold not a single defence or ornament
from that Christian home, which is already
the source of so many virtues and enjoyments.
" Domestic happiness, thou only bliss
Of Paradise that has survived the fall!
Though few now taste thee unimpaired and pure,
Or tasting, long enjoy thee! too infirm,
Or too incautious, to preserve thy sweets
Unmixed with drops of bitter, which neglect
Or temper sheds into thy crystal cup;
Thou art the nurse of Virtue, in thine arms
She smiles, appearing, as in truth she is,
Heaven-born, and destined to the skies again." 
If you would "Cpreserve these swe-ets,"
connect them with heaven. Have you no
desire to honour God, in the midst of these
his favours? Or do you see no seemliness in
recognising the religion of Christ in your
family  capacity?   Even  supposing  that
there were no injunction of such a service as
this, one might expect it to grow up spontaneously in Christian households. Prayer is
a duty of natural religion.  The Mohammedan, wherever he journeys, prays to God
five times a day, at his stated hours. The
*Cowper.




34           FAMILY WORSHIP.
very heathen, in their families, call on their
gods, "v which are yet no gods."' Shall a
Christian house be void of all tokens of its
relation to God? One might claim of you,
as a follower of the Redeemer, to hold forth
some such sign, that as for you and your
house, you fear the Lord.t If God had given
no indications of his good pleasure in this
ordinance, it is one of so great value and
blessedness, that we mnight all reasonably
join in asking it at his hands as a special
boon. But he gives it to us freely; and yet
the heavenly gift is spurned by thousands!
Suppose it were revealed to us that we were
forbidden to worship God in our families!
T'hough all other means should remain undiminished, it would be a fearful interdict; a
portentous curfew  to our domestic fires.
The parent and the child could no longer
press around the feet of divine mercy, clinging the more closely because the rest of the
world is shut out.  Yet multitudes deny
themselves all this blessing, of their own free
choice; and parents and children grow up
and hve, and separate, and appear in judgment, without having ever met, even once,
in an act of common household supplication.
It is amazing, and all but incredible, that
any nman who loves Christ, should be willing
to preside over a family in which, from year
to year, there is nothing to signalize it as belonging to the Lord.'Jeremiah ii. I1.    t Joshua xxiv. 15.




FAMILY WORSHIP.           35
0 Christian parent! "suffer the word of
exhortation."  Be persuaded not to deny
yourself a service which will heighten all
your comforts. The principle is undoubted.
that we have tenfold pleasure in that which
we enjoy in company with those whom we
love.  That is not a father's heart, which
does not experience it every day. We realize
it in our common meals. our recreations, our
readings, our excarsions, our visits; why
should you not realize it in your religion?
Family Worship is a coming to God, not
singly, but hand-in-hand with your children
and family; and from this, its peculiar aspect,
it has delights and advantages which are all
its own.
The family, as such. has its wants and dangers, and sorrows anm sIns, which it is, therefore, reasonable to lay before God in a special devotion. No human community stands
out from the mass in such substantive and
prominent individuality. The circle which
bounds it is clear, and sharply marked, and
has been described by the hand of God himself. There is a community of interest: no
persons on earth are so much bound together.
Nothing can befall any one, without reaching the whole circle. You are invited to
present your household, as a household, before the infinite Giver of all good. Be assured he will make a difference between
those who fear him, and those who fear him
not. It was with a dreadful reference to this
very family-tie, that God said, c "Them that




36          FAMILY WORSHIP.
hontour me I will honour, and they that de
spise me shall be lightly esteemed."*  Youi
habitation will be more safe, and its inmates
more prosperous, by reason of God's answer
to the petitions which you put up together.
* 1 Samuel ii. 30.
TIE END.




THE
GOVERN Mi ENT
OF THE THOUGHTS.
BY TIHE
REV. HENRY FORSTER BURDER, D.1D.
PHILADELPHIA:
PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION.








THE
GOVERNMENT
OF THE THOUGHTS.
As the right regulation ot the thoughts enters
deeply and essentially into the nature of personai holiness and happiness, it is important
to consider,
First, The importance of the right government of the thoughts; and,
Secondly, The most effectual means of secu1ing this important object.
First, Let me direct your regard to the imnportance of acquiring and maintaining the due
government of the thoughts.
First, then, let it be considered, that the
absence of good thoughts is itself a sufficient
ground of condemnation at the bar of God.
Of the unrighteous and unholy it is said,
c" God is not in all their thoughts:" and is
not this ample evidence of the prevailing
character of their minds and hearts? Must it
not be a "c carnal mind," and must it not be
a hardened heart, in which the thought of
God can find no place?  Must not the love
w2              3




4           GOVERNMENT OF
of God be altogether absent from that heart
which gives no entertainment, no dwellingplace, even to the thought of his character
and his claims? Is it possible for a man to
love God, and yet spend day after day without cherishing any thoughts of God? What
ideas are we to form of the man who spends
his days without any grateful recollections
of the Divine goodness, without any admiring
delight in the Divine perfections, without any
solicitude to enjoy the Divine favour, and
without any desire to promote the Divine
glory? That the love of the blessed God
dwells not in his heart, is absolutely certain
The God in whose hands his breath is, and
in whom are all his springs of existence, and
capacity, and enjoyment, he has not glorified,
even in thought, or purpose, or desire! Let
every one, then, listen to the voice of con
science, while summoned to answer the question,-Is it I, whose mental character, whose
prevailing habits of thought, have been thus
convicted of a radical and most alarming
defect?
Let it be considered,
Secondly, That the human mind, while
unrenewed, is habitually disposed to the
indulgence of thoughts positively vain and
evil.
In every human mind which continues unrenewed, not receiving, because not desiring,
the control of the sanctifying Spirit, vain and
evil thoughts exert an entire ascendency.
Thus it was in the world before the flood;




THE TIOUGHTS So
and the record of human depravity at that
early period might be adopted by the historian of the age in which we live:  66And
God saw that the wickedness of man was
great in the earth, and that every imagination of the thoughts of' his heart was only evil
continually."  It is to the heart that the
scrutinizing and all-pervading eye of the
omniscient God is chiefly directed.  "6 The
Lord searcheth all hearts, and understandeth
all the imaginations of the thoughts."  "M6 Aan
looketh on the outward  appearance," and
the reason is sufficiently clear; he cannot
look beyondo  He can form  his judgment,
only by external indications.'The man of
most profound sagacity can do no more. He
_may nmarlk, with quickness of discernment,
the unstudied actionl, or the casual word, or
the expressive eye, or the voiceless lip, which
betrays an emotion in part suppressed. He
imay deduce, by his acuteness of observa-.tion,
many an inference which may not mlislead 
and he may obtain, not unfrequently, an insight into character, which he knows how to
value, and how to improve.  But the observer, althlough of most penetrating glance,
and most colmmanding intellect, and most
deeply versed in ethe knowledge of human
nature, may be, and often is, deceived.  It is
probable that even the subtle spirit that "c deceiveth the whole world," by the ever-varying artifices of' seduction, is som-etimes himself deceived; and, extensive as must be his
knowledge of' the human heart, he can have,
I.,




I<-      (4rO ERNMENS T OF
I conceive, no power at all of ascertaining its
thoughts and -fheelings, except in so far as they
are expressed or betrayed by certain intelli..
gible indications~  Omniscience is no attribute of hatan, nor of any being but Jehovah.
In language wehich no creature can appro —
priate, does the Father of' spirits say, 6 I the
Lord search the heart.   Anld he who uttered these words said also, 6 The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wticked: who can know it?"  What, then, must
the eye of God discern in every unrenewed
heart?  What must there be presented to the
eye of the Omniscient in the compass of one
single day, in the interior of an unregenerate
mind?' Say, or rather think, what has been
sometimtes the history of your thoughts withe
in the space of a single hour? Of what character were the subjects on which they were
employed?  Of what nature were the ideas
suggested, cherished, pursued?  What was
their tendency? and had they been embodied
in action, or even expressed in words, what
would have been the sentiments awakened
in the minds of those to whose approbation
you attach a value?  Consider, then, that
your heart was, at the very mo ment, 6 nalked
and open to the sight of Himn with whom you
lhave to do."
Let it be observed,
Thi'rdly, That it is the characteristic of the
renewed rmind to cherish good thoughts,
66 "Let the wicked forsake his way, and the
unrighteous man his thoughts:" such is the




THE THOUGHTS.             7
requirement of Him  who "cwaiteth to be
gracious. and delighteth in mercy," but who
cannot behold impurity of thought without
holy and indignant displeasure. What is the
repentance required of the man who would
become a recipient of forgiving mercy, but a
change of mind, of which the very first element is a change of thought?  The very
first step of the sinner's return to God, is described with equal simplicity and correctness
in such words as these  " I thought on my
ways, and turned my feet unto thy testimonies." The next gradation of progress may
be exhibited in these stronger terms: "I hate
vain thoughts, nor can I endure that any
longer they should lodge within me."  A
stage of still greater advancement appears
indicated by such expressions as these: "I
thought of thy loving-kindness in the midst
of thy temple."  And if this be regarded as
the representation of a state of mind at one
particular period, and not a direct assertion
in reference to the prevailing habit of thought,
we have at least an interesting and characteristic specimen of a mind truly renewed, in
those words of the psalmist, " In the multitude of my thoughts within me, thy comforts
delight my soul."  Oh, this is indeed the
language of a spiritual mind;, of a heart right
with God! Who can estimate the value, who
can describe the delight of this spirituality of
mind?  "They that are after the flesh do
mind the things of the flesh; but they that
are after the Spirit, the things of the Spirit.




8            GOVERNMENT OF
i,il to be carnally minded is death; but tc
Lee spiritually minded is life and peace."
Let it be considered,
Fourthly, That it is in the thoughts of the
mintd that both dispositions and actions originate.
"' As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he"
in the course and character of his life. The
thoughts of the mind have been justly compared to the blossoms which appear on a tree
in the vernal season of the year.  Many of
these blossoms prematurely fall off; but from
those which remain springs all the fruit which
the tree yields: so are there many thoughts
which transiently occupy the mind, without
leaving any permanent trace; but from the
thoughts which are cherished and retained
spring all the dispositions of the heart, a. I the
words of the lips, and all the actions of the
life. It was worthy, then, of the wisest of
men, and worthy of the Spirit of wisdom
under whose dictation he wrote, most urgently to enforce the safe keeping, of the
heart: "Keep thy heart with all diligence;"
(or, s" above all keeping;") " for out of it are
the issues of life." There is no member of
our body, there is no organ of sensation, there
is no faculty of intellect, there is no avenue
of feeling, over which it is not important to
exercise a watchful care; but more important
still is the guardianship of the heart, whence
are all the issues of life. Have you studied
the history of the inner man? Have you,
with the eye of self-inspection, carefully




THE THOUGHTS.              9
traced the process which commences with a
rising thought, and terminates in an important action? Have you watched the influence
of the suggestion, the incentive, the anticipation of consequences, the suspense, and the
final resolve' If you are familiar with processes such as these, and with the correspondent results, it is unnecessary for me to
make any further demand on your mind, with
a view to demonstrate the importance of the
right government of the thoughts.
Let your attention be now transferred,
Secondly, To the most effectual means of
attaining and preserving the due government
of the thoughts.
First, There must be the attainment and
the exercise of a good conscience.
The conscience is designed to be the keeper
of the mind and heart. Its appointed office
is that of a sentinel, to guard the avenues of'
approach, and to sound the alarm at the first
advances of' an enemy. But never can the
conscience of sinful and degenerate man be
competent for such an office, unless the disqualifying influence of guilt be removed, by
the efficacy of " the blood which cleanseth
from all sin."  The heart must remain an
impure fountain, whence can issue only
polluted streams, unless it be purified by the
virtue of atoning blood.  It is when "the
heart is sprinkled from an evil conscience,"
as it regards the sins which are past, that we
are prepared and disposed so to "exercise
ourselves as to have always a conscience




10          GOVERNMENT OF
void of offence towards God and towards
mran."  The serene repose of spirit which
arises from faith in the great propitiation, is
conducive to the delicate sensibility which
recoils from the contact of defilement, even
in the images of thought. Let the language
of the verse which has been cited remind us,
that if it be our desire to guard against the
intrusion of vain and evil thoughts, our hearts
must be cleansed from the guilt and pollution
of sin.  i WVash thine heart fis3m wickedness,
that thou mayest be saved. How long shall
thy vain thoughts lodge within thee?"
Secondly, The mind must habitually derive
from the word of God its best materials of
thought.
" I hate vain thoughts," said the psalmist,
" but thy law do I love."  He knew too
much of the tendencies of his own mind, and
too rnuch of the universal laws of intellectual
being, to wish that the expulsion of vain
thoughts should be followed by an uninteresting vacuity of thought. This, were it
possible, would be undesirable. It would be
a dull and dreary blank in existence.  It
would be, in the lowest sense, existence; it
would not deserve the name of life. But the
desire of the man after God's own heart was,
that the place vacated by thoughts which
were vain, might be filled by thoughts of
substantial excellence. This is indeed the
best and the only preservative from thoughts
deci3edly evil. Could the mind be rendered simply vacant, soon would the tempter




THE THOUGHTS.             1 1
pour in a strong and  rapid  tide of his
own impure suggestions.  The absence of
thoughts which are good he regards as the
state most favourable to the entrance of
thoughts which are evil; so that without any
perversion of the meaning of Scripture, we
may apply to such a state of mind oui
Saviour's description of the inductments
presented to the evil spirit, to occupy the
residence into which he anticipates an
unresisting facility of admission: s" When the
unclean spirit is gone out of a man. he
wandereth over parched deserts in search of
a resting place.*  And not finding any, he
saith, I will return to my house whence I
came, and being come, he findeth it empty,
swept and furnished;" (as if it directly in
vited his entrance, and was even prepared
for his occupation;) "' whereupon he goeth
and bringeth with him  seven other spirits,
more wicked than himself; and having
entered, there they dwell."  "The heart,"
says an eloquent preacher, " will not consent
to be desolated.  Though the room which is
in it may change one inmate for another, it
cannot be left void, without the,)ain of most
intolerable suffering.  It could not beai to be.
left in a state of waste and cheerless insipidity.
It would revolt against its own emptiness.
Such is the grasping tendency of the human
heart, that it must have a something to lay
hold of, and which, if wrested away without
the substitution of another something in its
* Dr. Campbell's Translation.
x




12          GOVERNMENT OF
place, would leave a void and a vacancy as
painful to the mind, as hunger is to the natural system. It may be dispossessed of one
object, but it cannot be desolated of all. A
mnan will no more consent to the misery of
being without an object, because that object
is a trifle, or of being without a pur~uit,
because that pursuit terminates in some
frivolous or fugitive acquirement, than he
will voluntarily submit,himself to the torture,
because that torture is to be of short duration." X
How much of wisdom, then, was there in
the method resorted to by the psalmist, with a
view to the right government of his thoughts;
and how exquisite is the beauty of expression, with which he has described the intellectuial and devotional habits of his mlnd, in
the hundred and thirty-ininth Psalm; —" How
precious are thy thoughts unto me, 0 God!
how great is the sum  of them!"  Let us
pause a moment, before we proceed to the
verse which follows.  What can  present
such admirable and delightful materials, to
occupy the thoughts of matn, as the book
which contains the thoughts of God? Might
not the Bible be entitled, —" The Thoughts
of God?"  Is it not replete with the contemplations of the Eternal Mind? And what
are the lofty and the glorious subjects which
they present to our regard?  They are the
attributes of his own nature; the laws which
" Dr. Chalmerso




THE THOUGHTS.           13
take their origin from his own rectitude the
purposes of mercy emanating from his own
love, and extending to rebels against his
throne; the rlediatorial scheme of redemption, illustrating, in full-orbed glory, the perfections of his own adorable character; the
revelations of a future and eternal world of
blessedness!  Having obtained on these
subjects (though less clearly and less fully
than we of the gospel-day) the thoughts of
God, we wonder not that the psalmist should
have exclaimed, —" How precious also are
thy thoughts unto me, 0 God! how great is
the sum of them! If I should count them,
they are more in number than the sand:
when I awake, I am still with thee!" With
the thoughts and counsels of Jehovah in his
mind, 4he lay down at night to rest, and
when he awoke in the morning, his thoughts
naturally recurred to the pleasing theme;
he began where he had left off, and found
himself in heart and soul still present with
God, still ruminating on him and his works.
The mercies of Heaven, in the redemption
of the church, by the sufferings and exaltation of the true David —how precious are
they to believers! How great is the sum,
how far exceeding all human arithmetic to
number them! Let them  be to us the
constant subjects of contemplation, admiration, and thanksgiving, day and night;
and let death find us engaged in an employment, which, when we awake, and arise front
9.




14          GOVERNMENT OF
the grave, we shall resume and prosecute to
eternity, in the presence of God!"I
Thlirdly, There must be earnest prayer,
that our thoughts may be guided and controlled by the influences of the Holy Spirit.
" When He, the Spirit of truth, is come,"
said Jesus to his disciples, " he shall teach
you all things, and bring all things to your
remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto
you." Now, the acquisition of knowledge,
and the habitual remembrance of that which
is acquired, are usually the result of those
two leading operations of the intellect, on
which the character of the thoughts chiefly
depends. Consider, then, 0 believer in Jesus,
how much you are authorized to expect, in
relation to the right government of the
thoughts, from  the influence so faithfully
promised. When you take up the Bible,
and read some selected paragraphs, or a
chapter in regular course, ",the Spirit of
wisdom and revelation" can steadily fix
your thoughts (too often apt to wander) on
some truths of vital importance: he can extend, and correct, and elevate your views,
and deepen your impressions of those truths
which you knew but imperfectly before; he
can give a new direction and a wider range
to your ideas, and, a new and glowing impulse to the best affections of your hearts.
When, at the next return of the hour of'
retired devotion, you resume the study of the
sacred book, some other truths, of no inferior
* Bishop Horne's Commentary.




THE THOUGHTS.             15
interest, may be similarly unfolded to your
view, and rendered equally influential in
awakening the purest affections of the soul.
Suppose this to be the history of every day;
anid suppose the truth into which you have
been thus guided, in the commencement of
every day, to  be held  in  remembrance
throughout the course of the day; will there
not be acquired more and more of an invaluable facility in the right government of the
thoughts?  And is the expectation of this
extravagant, or unreasonable? Is it too lofty
an expectation for a mind which has already
become a temple of the Holy Spirit?  And
"know ye not that" (if Christians) "cye are
the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God
dwelleth in you?"  Will not, then, the very
consideration of the character and influence
of the Divine inhabitant, become an incentive
to purity of thought? Surely vain thoughts
cannot be permitted or tolerated in the temple
of the indwelling Deity! Let there be poured
forth, then, in importunate prayer, the most
fervent petitions, that " the thoughts of the
heart may be cleansed by the inspiration of
the Holy Spirit."
FocurIlhly, There must be the diligent culture
of all holy affections.
While it is true, theat the thoughts give
excitement to the affections, it is equally true,
that the affections give excitement to the
thoughts. The affections are the wings on
which the intellect itself is sustained, in the
soaring elevation of its flight, above the
x2




16          GOVERN MENT OF
regions of sense. Even in the pursuits of
literature and of' science, it would be vain to
expect a rapid or a pleasurable progress,
without the stimulus arising from a predilection of taste, and a feeling of' powerful attachment. How  much more is that incentive
required in the application of the mind to
subjects decidedly spiritual!  Would you,
then, acquire an aptitude for the employment
of the thoughts on things unseen and eternal?
Would you obtain an increasing degree of'
facility, in disengaging the powers of thought
from all earth-sprung cares and entanglements? Would you rise, as on the wings of
eagles, to a region more pure and serene,
that you may contemplate, in an unclouded
atmosphere, c" the things which are above?"
Be it your solicitous care to 4"keep your
hearts in the love of God,'" by " praying in
the Holy Ghost."  Be assured, that when
most deeply 1" rooted and grounded in love,"
you will be able to put forth the best energies of your minds, in endeavouring to cormprehend what is the breadth, and length, and
depth, and height; and to know the love of
Christ, which passeth knowledge!
Fifthly, We must habitually realize the
Divine inspection of our thoughts.
Suppose that your unexpressed and most
secret thoughts could be ascertained by a
fellow creature, as soon as they found a place
in your mind. Suppose that some one individual had certain means of knowing your
thoughts, over which you could -exercise nc




THE THOUGHTS.               17
control, what emotions would you feel in his
presence! What intense anxiety would you
betray, as well as feel, to repress thle very
first rising of thoughts, which you mighht
deemi unworthy of' your character, and, inl
his estimation, disgraceful! But are not you,
at every moment, and in every situation,
whether acting, or speaking, or thinking,
inder the inspection of an omniscient and
omnipresent eye?  And is it not with Hili
as " tIhe Judge of all,'9 that, in a sense inapplicable to any human observer, " you have
especially to do?"  Let, then, the emphatic
words of' Hagar dwell for ever in 6 the
imagination ef the thoughts of your hearts"
"Thou, God, seest ne!"  Enter deeply
into the spirit whichl reguilated the thoughts
of the psalmlist:-66  0 Lord, thou hast searched mne, and known me.  Thou knowest my
down-sitting? and mine lp-rising, thou understandest my thoughts alar off.  Thou cornpassest mny p'lthl and my lyinlg down, and
art acquainted with all rny ways."
Last/l, It is requisite that we frequently
take a retrospect of the history of our thoughts,
for the purpose of' self examination.
Withl unifei)gne d silncerity mnay we say to
Himn  who knows thle recesses of our hearts,
far better thiai than cwi e kr-1now  thern ourselves,
i" Search me, 0 Gods and know my heart:
try me, and know   ly thIoughts- and see"
(and enable ime to see) "if there be any
-wicked way in me, and lead me in the way
everlasting."  Awfully hypocritical would it
2;,




8            GCOVERNM'TENT OF
be to offer these petitions, without the miost
determined efforts of scrutinizing self inspect
tion.  At the close of every day, ar.d still
more strenuously at the close of every antpier period of our time, let us call ourselves
to render an account of the employment of
our thoughts.  Let the detection of evil
thoughts produce its proper and legitimate
effects.  Let it humble us in the dust of'
abasement; let it conduct us to the cross of
the Redeemer; let it rouse us to greater
watchfulness int guarding against the intrusion of vain and evil thoughts; and let it
urge us to more earnest prayer that the God
of all grace would effectually control and
sanctify the  thoughts of of our hearts, by,
w" vorking in uas all the good pleasure of his
goodness, and the work of faith with power."'
In conclusion, let me suggest the i[nquiry,
whether the considerations which have been
adduced, ought not to excite in the minds of'
some who have thoughlt but little on the
subject, serious misgivings and apprehensions,
with regard to their character in the sight of
God.  Does n~1ot conscience, at this monment,
bring against you a &most appalling charge?
Does it not charge you with innumerable
iniquities of thought?  Does it not charge
you  vwith the additional guilt of thinking
lightly of those itiquities? You cannot deny,
that sins of thought are the very spring and
fountain of sins in conduct.  You cannot
deny, that maany of your sinful thoughts have
been rapidly nmaturing  into principles of




THE THOUGHTS.            19
action, and have wanted only the force of a
besetting temptation to bring them into practical development.  You cannot deny, that
among the countless multitude of thoughts,
which have crowded the entire space betweeti
the morning and the evening of many a day,
there have been instances in which not one
single thought of God, of Christ, or of eternity, obtained admission. Yet is it not specified, as one of the decided characteristics of
those who are unfit for heaven, and exposed
to endless woe, that " God is not in all their
thoughts?"  And is it not expressly said,
by the authority of Him who searcheth
the heart, that "the wicked shall be turned
into hell, and all the nations" (and therefore
all the individuals) g" that forget God?" Oh,
what must be the accumulation of the guilt
contracted, if, with respect to sins of thought
alone, a charge can be substantiated, of a
nature sufficiently heinous in the sight of
God to require a sentence of eternal banishment from his presence! Hasten, then, to
his throne of grace, lest he summon thee, at
an unexpected hour, to his throne of judgment! Supplicate, in the name of the only
Saviour, deliverance from the wrath to come!
Pray that the thoughts of thine heart, as well
as the sins of' thy life, may be forgiven thee.
And, oh, what an inducement to offer that
prayer, is the assurance, that, with the God
whom  thou  hast insulted and forgotten,
"c there is forgiveness!"-"- Let the wicked
forsake his way, and the unrighteous man




20   GOVERNMENT OF THE THOUGHTS.
his thoughts: and let him return unto the
Lord, and he will have mercy upon him;
and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon."  Let those vain thoughts be for ever
abandoned, which fostered vain hopes, and
delusive expectations.
No longer expose to final condemnation
your immortal soul, by trusting in yourselves,
as though you were righteous, or by neglecting to seek an interest, by faith, in the righteousness of Jesus. Never let it be absent
from your minds, that "he was made sin for
us, though he knew no sin, that we might be
made the righteousness of God in him."
Let, then, c" the word of Christ,"-the glorious gospel which bringeth salvation, —' dwell
in you richly, in all wisdom and spiritual
understanding."  Let it be the purifier of
your heart, the regulator of your thoughts.
Let the treasures of Divine truth be amply
stored within your hearts, and let them be
employed as the materials of pleasurable
thought, " when you are sitting in the house,
and when you are walking by the way, and
when you are lying down, and when you
are rising tup."  Then will "the peace of'
God which passeth all understanding, keep
your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus;"
to whom be glory for ever. Amen.




THE
GOVE RNM]ENT
OF THE TONGUE.
BY THE
REV. HENRY FORSTER BURDER, DID.
PHILADELPHIA:
PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION,,








THE
GOVERNMENT
OF THE TONGUE.
c" THE tongue," affirms the apostle, " can no
man tame."  Animals the most fierce and the
most formidable have been subjected to the
rule of man, and by his sagacity, rendered
tractable and docile. But it transcends all
human power to impose an effectual curb on
the tongue of unregenerate man, or entirely
to counteract the venom emitted from his
lips. Hopeless, however, as might be the
effort to control the tongue of another, not
so is the attempt to control our own. It
is confessedly difficult, but it is indispensably
requisite: for the same apostle has said, C" If
any man ambug you seem to be religious,
and bridleth not his tongue, but deceiveth
his own heart, this man's religion is vain."
The government of the tongue, then, it is
absolutely necessary to attain; and he who
acquires it in the highest degree, is the Christian of most distinguished eminence: — If
any man offend not in word, the same is
Y               3




4           GOVERNMENT OF
a perfect man, and able also to bridle the
whole body." The human body is here
represented, by the apostle, as a complex
system of members and organs, designed to
be subject to the authority, and subservient
to the purposes of the indwelling mind. Of
these organs there is one, over which it is
peculiarly difficult to obtain a due ascendency. If then that control be acquired, much
easier will be the task of duly restraining the
rest; so that the man who has acquired the
government of his tongue, may be supposed
to have attained a correspondent dominion
over all the organs, over all the senses, and
over all the appetites of the corporeal frame.
If any rman, therefore, could be found, who,
since the acquisition of that power, had never
in any instance abused, or failed to improve,
the faculty of speech, he might be regarded
as a perfect mlan: and, in so far as there is
an approach to this exalted attainment, there
is acquired, by the controlling mind, a facility
in bridling and governing the complex system
of" the outward man."
Let me, then, engage your attention,
First, To the peculiar importance of the
government of the tongue; and,
Secondly, To the principles by which this
government is to be acquired and maintained.
First, Let us reflect on the importance of
attaining this control.
First, Consider the dignity and excellence
of the faculty of speech.




THE TONGUE.              5
He who delights to gather materials for
admiration and praise, out of the curious and
wondrous economy of man's living frame,
will find much to repay his researches in the
contemplation of the faculty of speech. Think
of the delicate and difficult articulation which
intelligible speech requires. Think of the
combination of a few simple and elementary
sounds, denoted by a small number of alphabetical characters, so as to form all the thousands of words which we employ in the
conveyance of thought. Think of the power
acquired in early life, of connecting with
these sounds the ideas which they are employed to express; so that even before the
formalities of education have commenced,
there has been an admirable progress made
in the knowledge of the arbitrary symbols of
thought, by means of which we converse.
Think of the power of memory which the
use of language involves. Think of the influence of words in aiding and guiding all our
processes of thought, even when no sentence
escapes our lips.' Who gave us this power
of articulate speech, which raises us so far
above the most sagacious of all the inferior
tribes of animated nature? Who sustains
all the delicate sensibilities of the ear and of
the tongue, required for distinct articulations
Answer such questions as these, and surely
you will not be disposed to unite with those
who say, c Our tongues are our own; who
is Lord over us?'" Surely, if you feel aright,
you will enter into the grateful emotions of
_. 




6           GOVERNMENT OF
him who exclaimed, 4" Awake up, my glory:
my heart is prepared; I will sing and give
praise, even with my glory."
Secondly, Consider the influence which
the tongue is capable of exerting over the
minds and characters of others.
Can you specify the country, or the age,
or the condition of society, in which this
influence has not been powerful? Conceive
of the effects produced, even on a tribe of
savages, by the simple and vehement oratory
of a warlike chief. Conceive, if you are
able, of the effects produced on a democratic
assembly of ancient Greeks by the energies
of Demosthenian eloquence. You have sometimes felt, perhaps, the willing subjugation
of the soul to the fascinating and commanding talents of some master of the power of
speech, who knew well the avenues which
give access to the human heart. And long
before it was possible for you to know what
the word eloquence denotes, you felt the
power of the living, and animating, and soothing voice. You listened to the music of a mother's most endearing accents, and to the joyinspiring tones of a father's voice of love.
And as your capabilities of thought began
to unfold themselves under parental fosterage, you imbibed full many a sentiment, and
received full many an impression, even while
you were only in the act of acquiring the use
of your mother tongue. And what is the
history of all your companionship, but the
history of the reciprocal influences of thought




THE TONGUE.              7
and  feeling, communicated  through  the
medium of speech? The influence which in
your early days you felt, without tracing it
to its source, you have long since begun to
exert, and you are daily in the habit of exerting, over the minds of those around you.
Is that influence, —let me most earnestly and
affectionately inquire,-is that influence of a
character beneficial, or is it of a character
injurious to the dearest interests of your associates?  Would they have been losers, or
would they have been gainers, had they
never listened to your voice?
Thtirdly, Consider the awful responsibility
connected with the employment of the tongue.
Hear the declaration of Him  who will
hereafter occupy that throne, before which
shall be gathered all nations: " I say unto
you, that every idle word that men shall
speak, they shall give account thereof in the
day of judgment. For by thy words thou
shalt be justified, and by thy words thou
shalt be condemned."  It is, I conceive, as
if our Lord had said: " The evidences of thy
character shall be sufficiently gathered from
the words of thy lips; so that, independently
of thine actions, there will be abundant materials for the decisions of the judgment-day."
Even a philosophic heathen could say, s" Such
as a man is, such are his words:" and He
who knew, infinitely better, what is in man,
said, " Out of the abundance of the heart the
mouth speaketh." If the tongue, in one
single conversation, or even in one significant
Y2




8           GOVERNMENT OF
expression, may be regarded as the index to
the heart, what a mass of materials for the
proceedings of the judgment-seat must be
accumulating every day of life, as the words,
Whether thoughtfully or heedlessly, are falling from our lips! What an awakening
consideration should it at all times prove,that every word we speak is heard by Him
whose ear (no less than his eye) is in every
place; and that every utterance of the lips is
recorded in 4" the book of His Temembrance!"
Oh for the blotting out, then, of 4" the handwriting that is against us" in that book! Oh
for an interest in the abundant mercy of Him
who has said, " I, even I, am He that blotteth
out thy transgressions for mine own sake,
and will not remember thy sins!"  Who
that attempts to retrace the history of the
communications of his own lips, will not
acknowledge the necessity of an interest in
the sacrifice of expiation which was offered
on Calvary? What can authorize the feeling of repose and tranquillity in the prospect
of the day of account, but a believing reliance
on the mercy of God through our Lord Jesus
Christ, who was " made sin for us," though
he "'knew no sin, that we might be made
the righteousness of God in himl?"
No doubt, then, it may be presumed, can
remain on your minds, with regard to the
peculiar and inexpressible importance of the
government of the tongue. You are prepared, I trust, to direct your willing attention,




THE TONGUE.               9
Secondly, To the principles on which we
should aim at acquiring that control.
First, Let our chief anxiety be directed to
the fountain of thought and of language.
Hopeless will be the effort to purify the
streams, unless the source be pure. Unreasonable will be the expectation of valuable
fruit, unless the tree be good.  In the discourse of our Saviour, to which I have already
adverted, this subject is placed in the clearest
and the strongest light. "Either make the
tree good, and his fruit good; or else make
the tree corrupt, and his fruit corrupt: for
the tree is known by his fruit.-How can ye,
being evil, speak good things?-A good man
out of the good treasure of the heart bringeth
forth good things: and an evil man out of
the evil treasure bringeth forth evil things."
Who, then, is the good man, whose heart
contains a good treasure of the materials
requisite for edifying discourse?  It is the
man who is prepared to speak of God, and
of Christ, and of heaven, because he delights
to think of God, and of Christ, and of heaven.  It is the man who is " spiritually-minded," being " born of the Spirit," and "6 led by
the Spirit," as one of C" the children of God."
Wonder not, then, that it should have been
said by the Saviour, "Ye must be born
again."
To those who have the hope and the evidence of this renewal of the mind, I would
say:-Let the keeping of the heart be the
care of every day.  Let:t be cight with God




10          GOVERNMENT OF
and let it be right with man. Let the love
of God dwell there, and it will be your delight, with your lips, " to bless his name,
abundantly to utter the memory of his great
goodness, to speak of the glory of his kingdom, to make known his mighty acts, to
testify of his righteousness, and to show forth
his salvation." Let that love of man, also,
which thinketh no evil, dwell there, and evilspeaking will, in no instance, defile your lips.
From those lips shall ever flow the words of
kindness, because the law of love is written
on the heart.
Secondly, Let us avoid and detest all those
abuses of the tongue by which the power of
speech would be perverted, and its utility
counteracted.
These abuses include1. All that is inconsistent with truth.
He who asserts a falsehood, or promotes
deception, or violates the confidence reposed
in him for veracity, does what in him lies to
destroy all the securities of society, to undermine the very basis of its constitution, and
to reduce it to a state of pitiable and wretched barbarism.  If even among men of the
world every species of untruth is considered
despicable and degrading, oh how high
should be the standard of veracity and sincerity among the disciples of that Divine
Master, " in whose lips was found no guile!'
c" Speak ye every one truth to his neighbour;"
-truth  withc ut subterfuge, and  without
equivocationf; truth which will bear the




THE TONGUE.              11
scrutiny of conscience; yes, and of that
Searcher of the heart, 4" whose eyes are as a
flame of fire."
These abuses include2. All that is inconsistent with the feelings
of Christian kini Lness and charity.
On this head I offer, without apology, the
forcible and pungent remarks of Dr. Chal
mers:-"' It is a fault to speak evil one of
another, but the essence of the fault lies in
the want of that charity which thinketh no
evil. Had the heart been filled with this
principle, no such bad thing as slander would
have come out of it.  The forms of evil
speaking, however, break out into manifold
varieties.  There  is the resentful outcry.
There is the manly and indignant disapproval.  There is the invective of vulgar malignity. There is the poignancy of satirical
remark. There is the giddiness of mere
volatility, which spreads its entertaining
levities over a gay and light-hearted party.
These are all so many transgressions of one
and the sanle duty: and you can easily conceive an enlightened Christian sitting in judgment over them all, and taking hold of the
right principle upon which he would condemn
themn all; and which, if brought to bear with
efficacy on the consciences of the different
offenders, would not merely silence the passionate evil-speaker out of his outrageous
exclamations, and restrain the malignant evilspeaker from his deliberate thrusts at the
reputation of the absent; but would rebuke




Ix 2        GOVEWTMENT OF
the humorous evil-speaker out of his fanciful
and amusing sketches, and the gossiping evilspeaker out of his tiresome and never-endingnarratives."
To this vivid and pointed specification by
the Christian preacher, allow me to add a
sentence or two from the pen of a French
moralist; appealing, it is confessed, to principles of an inferior order, yet such as are
well calculated to produce effect:-"- He of
whonl you delight to speak evil, may become
acquainted with what you have said, and he
will be your enemy: or, if he remain in
ignorance of it, you will still have to reproach
yourself with the meanness of attacking one
who had no opportunity of defending himself. If scandal is to be secret, it is the crime
of a coward; if it is to become known, it is
the crime of a madman."
The abuses to be avoided include3. All that is inconsistent with the utmost
delicacy and purity.
Hear the inspired writer of the epistle to
the Ephesians: c" Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, —neither
filthiness, nor foolish talking, nor jesting,
which are not convenient:" or, rather, which
are not to be tolerated; being highly offensive to God, and highly injurious to man.
From the import of the terms employed in
the original, the apostle is supposed to advert
here, to artfully turned expressions, in which
more is meant than meets the ear, and more
than the modest ear could tolerate; —in which,




THE TONGUE.             13
by words of double meaning, there is displayed the execrable wit, that renders termns,
in themselves not indelicate, the vehicle,
when artfully combined, of conveying ideas
indelicate in the highest degree. From uttering and from hearing this language of deep
depravity, may the God of all grace preserve
the young!
Let these hints suffice% in reference to the
many abuses of the tongue, which it is of the
greatest importance to avoid.
Thirdly, Let there be more than ordinary
vigilance, where there is more than ordinary
danger.
Consideration should, in eveiry instance,
precede expression. If we would adopt the
only rational method in which words can be
uttered, we must determine, first to think,
and then to speak. "' Either be silent," said
Pythagoras to his disciples, "or say something that is better than silence." And a
greater than Pythagoras has said; s" In the
multitude of words there wanteth not sin'
but he that refraineth his lips is wise."
6" Seest thou a man that is hasty in his words?
there is more hope of a fool than of him."
But if the habit of consideration be at all
times desirable, how much more requisite
must it be in circumstances of peculiar danger!
That danger may arise. sometimes from
within, and originate in our own hearts
Often it may be imminent, under the impulse
of strong and ardent feeling, and especially
under the excitement of angry and tu:aultu
2




14          GOVERNMENT OF
ouis emotions.  How important, then, is the
exhortation of the apostle Jamnes: 4" Let every
man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to
wrath: for the wrath of man worketh not
the righteousness of God."  If wrath be
rising, if the storm be gathering in thy soul,
summon to thine aid the most effectual principles of self-control. Suspect thyself; dread
-thyself; and look up to Him who is able, in
the moment of peril, " to succour them that.are tempted."
The danger to be apprehended arises sometimes from without, still more than from within. Of this source of peril the psalmist was
ifeelingly aware:-" I said, I will take heed
to my ways, that I sin not with my tongue:
I will keep my mouth with a bridle, while
the wicked is before me. I was dumb with
silence, I held my peace, even from good;
and my sorrow was stirred." If, as in the case
of David, injuries have been received, there
may be danger of uttering, in return, impatient, and impetuous, and resentful, and recriminating, and heart-cutting words.  If
favours have been received, there may be
danger of yielding a sinful assent to the opinions expressed, and the principles maintained.
In the hours of social intercourse, how gradual and easy is often the transition from the
expression of sentiments with which you
may safely accord, to the utterance of sentiments with which it would be culpable to
accord; and, under these circumstances, how
perplexing and entangling does the course




THE TONGUE.:           15
of conversation often become! What a painfill and difficult struggle then commences ill
the mnind, between the fear of offending man,
and the fear of offending God! And although
a holy decision of character will promptly
determine in what manner the struggle shall
terminate, who is there that cannot perceive
the extreme danger of such a situation to the
timid, the modest, and the young?  Nor let
it be forgotten, that silence itself may be sill;
and sin it undoubtedly is, if it proceed from
that " fear of man which bringeth a snare;"
— a fear of boldly avowing the principles of
the gospel, and maintaining the honour of
the cause of Christ. " Whosoever shall be
ashamed of me and of my words," said the
Lord Jesus, " of him also shall the Son of
man be ashamed, when he cofmeth in the
glory of his Father with the holy angels."
Fourth/ly, Let us remember, that it is incumbent upon us to conduct our social intercourse, so as not only to avoid doing evil,
but also to effect all possible good.
Not satisfied with saying merely, " Let no
corrupt communication proceed out of your
mouth;" the apostle added, " but that which
is good to the use of edifying, that it may
minister grace unto the hearers." The Christians of Colosse are also thus exhorted:
" Let your speech be alway with grace, seasoned with salt, that ye may know how ye
ought to answer every man." It is as if the
apostle had said:-"- Let there be in your
conversation a principle of holy vitality
z




16           GOVERNMENT OF
which may prove that your hearts are alive
to God: let there be in it a corrective principle, preventing the tendencies to that which
is corrupt,-too often apparent in social intercourse: let there be in it the virtue of a
powerful stimulant, exciting the minds of
others to all that is pure and salutary, while
it imparts to conversation a zest most gratifyin:g to the spiritual taste." And ought we
to feel at a loss for materials to conduct, on
those principles, the interchange of thought
and sentiment, in the hours of friendly intercourse? What was the subject on which the
two celestial visitants conversed with our
Lord, on the mount which was the scene of
his transfiguration? What was the class of
subjects on which Jesus usually conversed
with his disciples?  W7hat were the subjects
most interesting to the minds of those primitive Christians, who " continued stedfastly in
the apostles' doctrine and fellowship, and in
breaking of bread, and in prayers; and they
did eat their meat with gladness and singleness of heart, praising God, and having favour with all the people?"  No dejection sat
on their countenance; no melancholy brooded over their minds; no moroseness could
be detected in their demeanour; no insipidity
rendered unattractive their conversationl; yet
we cannot doubt that their chief and favourite topics of discourse were connected with
" the decease accomplished at Jerusalen,"
and its wondrous and glorious results. What
other subjects could be in their estimation




THE TONGUE.             17
equally interesting, when, with one mind
and one heart they 4" counted all things but
loss for the excellency of the knowledge of
Christ Jesus their Lord;" and were chiefly
solicitous to live to his glory on earth, and to
dwell eternally in his presence in heaven?
Oh that we could imbibe more of their spirit,
and then it would be easier to imitate, in
some degree, the style and character of their
heavenly conversation! Were this attained,
what incalculable benefits might we not diffuse throughout the sphere of our social intercourse!
Fifthly, Let us connect with our best directed efforts our most earnest prayers for
Divine aid.
A most appropriate prayer is to be found
in the effusion of the inspired psalmist:"Lord, I cry unto thee: make haste unto
me; give ear unto my voice, when I cry
unto thee. Let my prayer be set forth before thee as incense; and the lifting up of
my hands as the evening sacrifice. Set a
watch, 0 Lord, before my mouth; keep the
door of my lips." Our daily prayers, including petitions such as these, should have, as
much as possible, the regularity and the constancy of the morning and the evening sacrifice anciently offered at Jerusalem; and if
offered by faith in Him  of whose atoning
blood those sacrifices were the appointed
symbols, they will rise to heaven as accept
ably as the cloud of odoriferous and emble
matic incense. If we thus lift up our ardent
2 *




18          GOVERNMENT OF
desires to God for communications which He
alone can bestow, we shall not fail to receive
the aid of heavenly grace, in restraining our
lips from evil, and in exciting that spirituality
of mind which is the best preparative for the
hours of social intercourse. If we habitually
converse much with God, we shalt have the
best preparation for conversing well and
profitably with men. It will then also become easy and natural to us to offer such
petitions as the psalmist's, not merely in the
hours of periodical devotion, but at every
moment of solicitude and of danger, when
aid from above may be especially required.
Lastly, Let us examine ourselves frequently, at the bar of conscience, in reference
to the government of the tongue.
Have we not, on this subject, occasion for
very deep regret, and penitential abasement
of spirit? How little have we honoured God
by the improvement of this noble faculty,
his gracious gift! How little have we effected by the power of speech, for the spiritual
benefit of those around us! Were we to be
deprived of this faculty, in any degree, by
the effect of paralyzing disease, how heavy a
burden might our consciences feel, from the
recollections of our misimprovement of this
invaluable gift! Are there not some who,
instead of doing good, have occasioned incalculable evil by the abuse of the tongue?
" The tongue" of some 6" is a fire, a world of
iniquity: so is the tongue among our members, that it defileth the whole body, and




THE TONGUE.              19
setteth on fire the course of nature; and it is
set on fire of hell.9" So let it not be with
any one of us! May pardon be obtained
for past offences, and  past deficiencies,
through the atoning sacrifice of Jesus: and
may there be granted, in answer to prayer,
the effectual aid of the Holy Spirit to control
and sanctify the faculty of speech; that (" not
offending in word," we may attain the perfection referred to in the passage before
quoted, being able to govern, by most effectual discipline, the whole economy of
" the outward man," to the glory of our God,
and the spiritual and eternal benefit of all
within the sphere of our influence.








iREMEMBEIR ELI.
A SOLEMN CALL UPON PARENTS TO REMEM
BER THE ACCOUNT WHICH THEY MUST
GIVE FOR THEIR CHILDREN'S SOULS.
BY THE REV. R. M. M'CHEYNE.
" His sons made themselves vile, and he restrained them
not."-i1 SAM. iii. 13.," And I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God."
— REV. XX. 12.
THERE is a report in heaven, as well as
among us, that many of you are guilty of
your children's blood. It is believed that
many of you allow your children to perish
miserably.  We wish you to inquire whm:ther
or not you be really chargeable with this fearful crime.
Yotl know that every minister and elder
has a twofold account to give at the judgment-seazt of Christ; and so has every father
and mother.  One of these accounts is to be
regarding their own souls; and the other is
to be regarding how they attended to those
under their care.   This last account will
be as strict as the first; for one of the holy
prophets declares that there is an unutterable woe lying upon those who c"feed
themselves, and do not feed the flock," Eze1




2            REMEMBER ELI.
kiel xxxiv. 2. Now, parents, you " feea
yourselves," and fall under this woe, wheLr
you are content with getting meat, and drink,
and clothing, while you let your children become a prey to wolves, that is, to wicked
companions, bad example, temptations to sinful amusements and pleasure, by which their
souls are ruined for ever.
Oh! remember you have to give an account for your own souls! and that will be
fearful enough, and sad enough! God will
open the great book of judgment, and turn
to the page wherein your sins are written.
His bright light will shine on the page, and
you will be forced to come up the steps of
the judgment-seat, and read what is written
against you.  Your conscience will testify
that every word is true; and the devil will
be a witness, for he led you into the mire;
and holy angels will declare how they saw
and shuddered at your sin; and many of
your neighbours will be brought up to tell
how you and they sinned together; and God
himself will speak, and declare it to be all
true! Oh! how awful is the prospect! You
will, on that day, be damned, if all these
things are found in the book! But there is
another account even after all this is done,
namely, the account you have to give for
your children,-for each of your children,
and each of their sitns! You will be reckoned guilty of their sins, if you did not check
them; you will be accounted' chargeable
with their follies and vices, if you agreed to




REMEMBER ELI.              3
let them go on in what way they pleased, 1
Sam. iii. 13. And who will be the witness
against you here? Will it be conscience, and
the devil, and your neighbour, and the Holy
God? Yes, but in addition, your own little
children! Your own children will face you
at the judgment-seat, and condemn you!
Alas, their agonized looks,-their tears, —
their cries, —their gnashing of teeth, will then
awaken your conscience, and you will be
proved before the universe to be murderers
of your own children's souls!
The mother of a little girl used to teach her
to pray, but only at times that suited her own
convenience. One day this little girl looked
in her mother's face, and said, g"Mother,
when I die and go to heaven, and God Almighty asks me,' Didyour mother teach you to
pray?' I will tell him,' yes, except on washing days.' "  Was not this a case where the
child seemed already to be beginning her
office as witness against her parent's sin?
But there was another girl, whose history
was far more awful.  She had once cared
about her soul, and sought a Saviour, till her
father led her away back to the world and
its sins. In the course of a year after he had
succeeded in making his daughter thoughtless and gay, a rapid fever attacked htier. She
called for her father in her last moments, fixed her eyes on him, and was able to utter,
" Father, last year I would have sought
Christ, but now, father, your child is -."
She had not time to finish the sentence, death




4             REMEMBER ELI.
arrested her! but, oh! what a witness she
will be when she meets him  again, and reproaches him with having ruined her soul!
There is a hymn which has often struck us
as being very solemn and alarming, —a hymn
that represents lost children upbraiding their
parents.  They are crying from  the lowest
hell, telling their parents that if they had
taken an interest in their souls, they would
never have come into that place of torment.
c" Father, weep with shame and rueing,
-Weep for thy child's undoing,
For the days when I was young,
And no prayer was taught my tonguedI ran the world's race well,
And find my portion, Hell!
Weep, mother, weep; but know'Twill not shorten endless woe!_
Weep my lost spirit's fate,
But know thy tears too late!
Had they sooner fallen-well,
I had not wept in Hell!"
0 parents! are any of you already stained
with this crimson guilt?  Have any of you
cause to fear that you have sent some of your
children to hell by your conduct? Or have
you reas)n to fear lest you have set them on
the way, although they are still alive? Up,
and flee to the city of refuige! You are like
the ancient man-slayers, (Numbers xxxv.,) the
avenger of blood is at your heels! there is no
remission for your sin, except in the blood




REMEMBER ELI.            5
of Jesus. And Jesus has made so full and
ample an atonement that, on the ground of
it, even a murderer of souls may be forgiven.
Manasseh was a murderer of souls, and he
was forgiven through this precious blood. (2
Chron. xxxiii.) You, too, may be forgiven,
if your blood-stained conscience be washed
in the precious blood of the Lamb. Your
souls may now be sore vexed, and ill at ease;
your peace may be broken up, and remorse
may have well nigh begun that gnawing
which shall never end; but hearken to the
words that bring you glad tidings: " The
chastisement of our peace was laid upon
Him." (Isa. liii. 5.)
We know that if you would bathe in the
blood of Him who "his ownself bare our
sins, in his own body, on the tree," then
would your souls be delivered from the oppressive and intolerable thought of the past,
and you would be refreshed in the future, by
the glorious prospect of bringing those that
remain, to the same Saviour that redeemed
you. It is true you may feel like the South
Sea murderers of their children, who, on being awakened, and taught the power of the
blood of Christ, even then found the consciousness of that sin-the murder of their
children-the last which they could bring to
his atoning blood. Some lamented in agony
over seven, others over seventeen or twenty,
whom they had destroyed. Yet even these
did at last find their souls cleansed in that
full, deep fountain. And you may find the
1 *




6           REMEMBER ELI.
same!  You will then be like pardoned
Manasseh, who, when justified from  all
things by bathing in the ocean of Immanuel's
blood, could walk at evening round Zion,
and look down into the very valley of Hinnomn-the black, gloomy valley where he had
made so many of his children pass through
the fire to Moloch,-and still retain his peace
with God, and say, " Who is he that condemneth?  It is Christ that died."  (Rom.
viii. 34.) If' you would thus try the power
of Chnrist's sacrifice to purify your guilty conscience, you would soon care for and yearn
over your children's souls. You would discover their guilt, and perceive their danger,
and you would long to see them saved and
made " accepted in the Beloved." We know,
also, in regard to those of you that have
sought Christ for yourselves, but have not
been sufficiently careful to fulfil your baptismal promise, and comply with the demand
of the Lord, by bringing your children to
Christ; we know that the cause is to be
found in your meager views and most inadequate feelings of the Saviour's glorious work.
Your sense of the heinousness of the sin
which it purges away, is so dull, and your
apprehension of its infinitely urgent necessity
and overwhelming grace, is so dim, that your
languid feelings are not stirred, though your
offspring are living in the open neglect of the
great salvation. Were you to die in your
prbsent unfaithfulness to your family and be
saved yourselves, " so as by fire," you would




REMEMBER ELI.            7
need to take an eternal farewell of your
children. Like Eli, you might be saved;
but your feelings on reaching glory would be
like his. No doubt he learned in heaven
what he dreaded to think upon on earth, that
his sons, Hophni and Phineas, were cast
away as brands for the burning; and now
all that he could do, as he stood before the
throne-himself saved, but none of his offspring-was first to adore the sovereign grace
that had led himself to wash in the blood of
the Lamb that removed even that sin of crimson and scarlet dye, and next to join the hallelujahs of the company that were praising
the righteous wrath of their God, against the
lost souls of Hophni and Phineas, while they
saw the smoke of their torments rising up for
ever and ever. (Rev. xix. 3.)
Bearing these solemn truths in mind, hear
us when we propose to you that your children should be sent to the SABBATH SCHOOL.
I. You that care about your own and your
children's souls. We believe you are seeking out the best means of benefitting those
under your care. WVe, therefore, do no more
than ask you to consider whether or not it
would be useful to send your children to our
schools. If other circumstances are suitable,
then your example might influence some of
your neighbours; and by your attention to
your children, in preparing them at home for
the Sabbath School, you would have the satisfaction of seeing your children become a
pattern to others.




S           REMEMBER ELI.
II. You that care about your children,
though you are not yourselves converted.
We know that this is no uncommon case;
even infidels have wished their children to
know Christ. Now, if you feel that you
yourselves have got no change of heart, we
entreat you to send your children to the Sabbath School. There, by The blessing of God,
they may be led to Christ. The teacher's
whole aim is to bring them to the cross of
Christ, to carry them to the Shepherd who
gave his life for the sheep, and to bathe them
in the fountain open for sin and uncleanness.
But if you allow them to spend Sabbath
evening, and perhaps all the day too, in
whatever manner they please, you may expect soon to hear them uttering oaths, and
be grieved by their profanity, their contempt
for the ordinances of God, their filthy and
foolish deeds, and other signs of a hardened
heart. But oh! if they were saved, you
would be freed at the great day from the
reproach of their ruin. And perhaps they
might even carry home salvation to you!
What if they should lead you by the hand to
Jesus? What if your experience should be
that of a parent who said, c" I was thirty
years old before I knew that I had a soul.
But one of our boys went out on a Sabbath
to play, and was brought in with his anklebone out of joint. Next Sabbath another of
the boys got himself lamed. I resolved to
send them to school to be out of the way. It




REMEMBER ELL.            9
was there that they learned, and I learned
through them, that I had a soul."
III. You that care neither for your own
nor your children's souls. Whether you care
or not, still it is true that there is a Saviour
standing with open arms, saying, "Suffer
little children to come unto me, and forbid
them not." (Mark x. 14.) Will you allow
us to be kind to them, and lead them to
this Saviour? You would wish them to be
obedient, to be well behaved, to be useful
you would not wish to see them grow up
to be thieves, drunkards, and pests to society. Let us, then, do what we can to lead
them  to Christ.  Do not hinder us from
showing kindness to your children. We
entreat you not to be unmerciful to their
souls. Let not your eye be evil toward the
children of your own bowels. Would you
wish that any of them should yet curse
the day that ever they were born in your
house, and had youfor their parent?
And now that we have ended our few
words of expostulation, we must say to
those of you who agree to put your children under our care for a few hours on
Sabbath, that we do not in any degree free
you from the obligations you yourselves
are under to attend to their souls. No;
we cannot take upon us your responsibility, which became yours at your children's
birth, and was sealed on you at their baptism. We cannot stand in your place at
the judgment-day.  You must yourselves




10            REMEMBER ELI.
at home watch over them, pray for them
and with them, help them  in their lessons
for their classes, and speak to them on their
returning home, as anxiously as if we had
never said a word.  We offer only to help
you. It will prove your more sure condemnation at last, if it be the case that
strangers cared more for your children's souls
than you yourselves do,-the father that begat them, and, the mother that bore them.
But, oh! how blessed, if, led by the Holy
Spirit yourselves, you become the means
of leading. your children to Jesus!   We
will stand by, rejoicing to hear you say,," Behold, Lord, I and the children whom thou
hast given me!"
Suffer me to come to Jesus,
Mother dear, forbid me not;
By his blood from hell he frees us,
Makes us fair, without a spot.
Suffer me, my earthly father,
At his pierced feet to fall;
Why forbid me? help me rather;
Jesus is my all in all.
Suffer me to run unto him;
Gentle sisters, come with me;
Oh that all I love but knew him,
Then my home a heaven would be.
Loving playmates, gay and smiling,
Bid me not forsake the cross;
Hard to bear is your reviling,
Yet for Jesus all is dross.




REMEMBER ELI,              I
Yes, though all the world have chid me,
Father, mother, sister, friendJesus never will forbia me!
Jesus loves me to the end!
Gentle Shepherd, on thy shoulder
Carry me, a sinful lamb;
Give me faith, and make me bolder,
Till with thee in heaven I am.
AN ADDRESS TO PARENTS.
WE feel deeply concerned to be useful to the
souls of your children; and, no doubt, you
feel a strong desire that they may be happy;
but in order that this may be the case, you
must help us to bring them up in the fear of
the Lord; that is, you must pray for them,
and pray with them.  If you answer, " I
never prayed for myself; how, then, am I to
pray for my children?" we ask, how will
you, how can you, answer for this awful neglect at the day of judgment?  Oh begin at
once; begin to-day; kneel down with your
child, and say,'" Lord, pardon my sins for
the sake of Jesus Christ.  Create in me a
clean heart, 0 God; and renew a right spirit
within me."  Pray oni in this way till you
receive an answer. You must be born again,
or die to all eternity.  You often feel very
unhappy, very angry, and wretched; and you
feel so because your heart is wicked, proud,
sinful; opposed to God, to holiness, and your




12        ADDRESS TO PARENTS.
own happiness. Now you will never be right
till you obtain peace with God through our
Lord Jesus Christ.
Again, you must take your children to the
house of God. Many parents allow their
children to run in the streets on the Sabbath,
where they hear all manner of bad words,
and learn to act shamefully, and not like those
that must give account of themselves to God.
It is owing to these sins that we have so many
wicked boys and girls around us, and that
many of the people die in such a miserable
way. You know these things are true; and
you must die in the same hopeless manner,
except you repent and turn to God. You
have had many calls, many seasons of sickness and want; your sufferings have been
great, but they are nothing to the pains of
hell. Shall these warnings be lost upon you?
Do you wish to die in sin, to be shut out of
heaven, and shut up in the bottomless pit for
ever?  You say, " I hope not;" but your
hope will be vain, if you do not turn to God.
Many go on till death, without repenting of
their sins. Do not let Satan deceive you in
this way to your eternal ruin. We want to
do you good; we cannot bear to see you so
wretched. God does not desire the death of
sinners; Christ died for them; the Holy Spirit
strives with them; they may be happy in
this world and in the world to come. Seek
the mercy of the Lord now while it is called
to-day. Lead a new life; and may the Lord
give you his blessing and life for evermore,.




A PASTORYS INQUIRIES
ADDRESSED TO THE
~COM.IaNICNUANTS OF HIS CHARGE.
PHILADELPHIA:
PRESBYTERI!AN BOARD OF PUBLICATION.








A PASTO R' INQaUITRIES
ADDRESSED TO THE
COMMUNICANTS OF HIS 0] HIS CHARGE.
You have, my dear friend, made a solemn
profession of religion; and I trust you are
indeed what that profession implies, a true
Christian. Still, as your spiritual adviser, it
is desirable to have some particular knowledge of your views and feelings, aims and
hopes in a religious life. The reality, in
crease, and proper manifestation of your
piety, are things in which your pastor feels a
deep and fond inlterest. They are things,
also, of infinite importance to you.  If I can.
add to the comfort of your experience, the
usefulness of your life, and the preparation
of your soul for heaven, it will be an unspeakable blessing to you, and afford the
highest gratification to my own feelings.
Will you, then, sit down with me to a free
and confidential interview on these momentP2




4         A PASTORa'S INQUIRIES,
ous topics; and will you answer each of the
following questions according to your best
convictions of the truth?
1. Your hope in Christ is a point of chief
importance, silnce on that every thing, in a
religious experience, depends. Are your imn
pressions respecting that hope comfortable
and encouraging? or do they partake more
of uneasiness and distrust? 1 Pet. iii. 15.
2. Do you believe that you have truly ret
pented of sin, and embraced the Lord Jesus
by faith, as your Saviour?
3. Do you believe that God, for Christ's
sake, has pardoned your sins?
4. After careful examination of your heart
by the word of God, do you think it has
been renewed by grace?  1 John iii. 21,
14, 24.
5, What are your views of Christ? Does
he appear to you a fit and sufficient Saviour?
6. Do you commit your soul with freedom
into his hands, and feel a sweet and simple
trust in his cross?  2 Tim. i. 12.
7. Do you enjoy communion wvith him;
and does he appear precious to your heart?
1 Peto ii. 7.
8. Is he the object of tender and lively
affections?
9. Do you delight to think of God, as
your Father? Rom, viii. 15.
10. Have you the spirit of adoption? are
your feelings filial? have you a child-like




A PASTOR9S INQUIRIES.         5
dependence on him, love to him, and obedience to his will?
11. When is your hope most comfortable?
when you have the most solemn impressions
of religion, or when your mind is less occupied with the subject?
12. Do you feel more assurance of your
interest in Christ, and more settled peace than
you once did? and is it the result of more
earnest inquiry, clearer views, and searching
application of God's word?
13. Do you seek and cherish the influences
of the Holy Spirit, as the means of your
sanctification?
14. How long since you professed Christ?
15. Have you realized the hopes and purposes with which you set out in religion? are
you as happy as you then expected, and as
devoted as you purposed to be?
16. HIave you made any sensible progress
in religion?
17. Would you now feel satisfied to go on
to the end just as you have been thus far; to
have your present attainments and comforts,
and no more?
18. Is it your desire to grow in grace?
19. Have you a settled aim to become,
through Divine grace, all that the gospel is
adapted to make you?
20. Are you striving to advance in piety?
21. What means do you employ? 2 Pet.
i. 5-8.
22. Have you sought for the causes that
I _V"




6         A PASTOR'S INQUIRIES.
have hindered your progress in holiness"?
Heb. xii. 1.
23. Do you read the Bible daily with serious attention?
24. Within what period have you read the
whole?
25. Have you a relish for the word of God?
and do you find its truths and promises
adapted to your own experience and your
personal necessities?
26. Do you think your knowledge of the
scriptures has increased? that you are not
only more familiar with its language, but
better understand its truths?
27. Do you faithfully attend the sanctuary
-not only the Sabbath services, but also as
far as possible those of the week?
28. Do you love the worship and ordinances of God? and do you find comfort and
benefit in them?
29. Do you daily pray in secret?
30. Have you a time, place, and method
of secret devotion?  Matt. vi. 6.
31. Do you enjoy this exercise? or do you
feel a backwardness to the duty?
32. Do you feel nearness to God, and freedom of utterance in prayer? or does a sense
of distance obstruct you in your approach to
the mercy seat?
33. Do you feel the importance of a con,
sistent, exemplary Christian deportment before all men?  1 John ii. 6.
34. Do you suppose the secret conviction




A PASTOR'S INQUIRIES.
of those that know you is, that you are really
a Christian?
35. Would familiar intercourse with you
lead an irreligious person to think better or
worse of religion?
36. Do you cultivate a Christian temper?
Phil. ii. 5; Col. iii. 12.
37. Do you find it easier to bear and to
forgive injuries than you once did?
38. Are you afraid of backsliding? and
does declension appear dreadful to you?
39. Do you neglect any known duty?
40. Are you willing to do whatever God
would have you to do?
41. What are your trials? and how have
you borne them?
42. Do you bring them to God, and plead
his promises to the afflicted? and do you feel
supported by religion?
43. What has been the effect of your sorrows?  Have they chastened your heart,
and weaned it from  earth? or have they
made it more insensible?
44. When you gave yourself to Christ,
was it to be his only, his wholly, and his for
ever?
45. Are you endeavouring to live in the
spirit of that covenant?  I Cor. vi. 19, 20.
46. Is the cause of Christ dear to you?
47. Are you doing all you can to promote
it by your liberality and your efforts?
48. Do you give your means systematically, and in strict proportion to your ability?
49. Do you love the church to which you




8         A PASTOR'S INQUIRIES.
belong, and feel a tender interest in all that
affects its welfare?
50. Are you at peace with your brethren?
51. Do you cherish love and fellowship to
them as Christ's people? 1 Pet. iii. 8.
52. Do you feel a tender interest in their
welfare-long for their holiness-and pray
for them?  James v. 16.
53. Are you tender of their imperfections
and frailties?
54. Do you follow the rule in Matt. xviii.
15, 16?
55. Do you love the souls of men; and
feel a great desire that they may be saved?
56. Do you pray fervently for your minister, that his labours may prove a blessing to
you and others?  1 Thess. iii. 1.
57. Do you do all you can to bring the unconverted under the means of grace?
58. Are you doing all you can in the Sunday school and otherwise, for the conversion
of the young?
59. If all the members of the church were
in precisely the same spiritual frame that you
are, what would be the state of religion in
the church?
60. If they all felt just as you do in reference to the revival of God's work, would
you expect a blessing to come?
61. Are your children dedicated to God in
baptism?
62. Do you reflect upon the import and
solemnity of that transaction-cleave tenderly to the promises of the baptismal cove



A PASTOR'S INQUIRIES.        9
nant, and expect their fulfilment to you and
yours?
63. Have you ever explained the meaning
of that ordinance to your children, and impressed upon their minds the privileges it
confers, and the responsibility it lays upon
them?
64. Do you strive faithfully to perform
your own engagements in that covenant?
65. Do you carefully instruct your children
in the way of salvation-speaking to them
solemnly of their sinfulness and their need
of salvation, and earnestly persuading them
to seek the Saviour?
66. Do you pray for their conversion? in
what manner? Do you expect it? when?
67. Is your example adapted to promote
their conversion?
68. Do you make it a matter of conscience
that they shall keep no company, and engage
in no amusements unfriendly to their spiritual good?
69. If they were now to be taken away
from you by death, and you could have foreseen that, have you done all that you would
have been urged by that foresight to do?
70. If they should never be converted, are
you perfectly sure that the loss of their souls
would not be owing in any degree to your
unfaithfulness?
71. The word of God assigns a prominent
place to the departure and final rest of believers. What is the state of your mind on
this solemn and interesting subject?




10        MARKS OF TRUE SAINTS&
72. Do you live habitually in a state of
preparation for a dying hour? Luke xii.
35, 36.
73. Do you ever make the subject of youi
departure a subject of deliberate meditation?
74. Do you pray for dying grace, a peaceful end, and the Saviour's presence in that
fearful hour when flesh and heart shall fail?
75. Are you in bondage to the fear of
death? or can you anticipate its approach
with a sweet composure?
76. If your last hour were now  come,
would it find your earthly work done, and
your soul meet for heaven?
MARKS OF TRUE SAINTS,
BY
THE REV. J. A. JAMES.
1. When the mind retains its deep solicitude about
salvation, and has it increased by the idea, that a lost
professor is the most awful of all characters:
2. When there is a continued and increasing dread
of sins renounced during concern; and sanctification
in these very particulars is carried on with vigour:
3. When besetting sins are, if not totally eradicated,
yet repressed and kept under, by watchfulness and
prayer:
4. When the idea of being a professor, makes the
thought of sin committed more bitter, and renders us
restless and uneasy, till we have obtained forgiveness,
by renewed faith and repentance:




MARKS OF TRUE SAINTS.                11
5. When the sins of others, and especially of professors, and their low state of piety, cause deep grief, and
make us additionally anxious to attain to higher de.
grees of personal godliness, in order that we may preserve the credit of religion, and prevent dishonour from
being cast on the name of Christ:
6. When we so love God as to feel that our great
business and delight is to obey, serve, and please him;
and to find that no measure of service will satisfy us,
short of absolute perfection:
7. When the motive to obedience, and to all we do in
religion is, so far as we can ascertain it, a prevailing
desire and aim to glorify God:
8. When the sins of other professors are matter of
grief, humiliation, and distress, and the failings of
scripture saints are read with awe, and regarded as
beacons to warn us from the rocks on which they
split:
9. When we are pleased, not only with comforting
preaching, and such as dwells on the doctrines of grace,
and privileges of believers, but also with close, pungent appeals to the conscience, and discourses that
search the heart and lay open its corruptions, and are
ever ready to co-operate with our pastors in promoting
revivals of the church:
10. VWhen we retire from  earthly minded, fashionable, and lukewarm professors, to associate with those
who are eminently holy, consistent and heavenly:
11. When no prospect of gain can induce us to engage in. an unlawful occupation; or to carry on a lawful one by forbidden means; and rather than violate
truth, honesty, justice and generosity, we would be content with poverty and a quiet conscience.
12. When we carry religion with us into the shop, to
regulate all our business, and consider ourselves under
solemn obligation to let our light shine forth before
worldly men in all our transactions; to make the six
days of labour, as well as the one day of rest, a time
for glorifying God; and to consider ourselves his servants at all times and in all places:
13. When we feel not only an obligation, but a pleasure, in practising self-denial, and a willingness to give
Q




122        MARKS OF TRUE SAINTS.
Lp the gratifications of appetite and feeling, for the
sake of Christ
14. When, though diligent in business, and not careless about property, our chief pleasure in accumulation, is that we have more to do good with: and we
avoid luxuries and splendour, that we may have more
to spend for God; and while not unmindful of our
families, consider that God has claims upon us, as well
as they:
15. When we have a tender conscience easily roused,
which will not allow us to engage in doubtful actions:
16. When we are as careful to abstain from  all
angry, resentful and malicious feelings, as we are from
licentious anid dishonest ones:
17. When our religion is not the spirit of fear, and
slavish dread; the service rendered by a slave to a
tyrant; but of power, and love, and of a sound mind;
the service of a child to a father, in whom he confides,
and for whom he has the strongest affection:
18. When there is a strong, steady and laborious desire to do good, especially in the way of converting sinners, by personal exertion, by property, by prayer, so
that we feel it to be a part of our calling, and one great
end of it to aid in saving souls from death; when we
are distressed that little is doing in this way; are willing to make sacrifices to do good; are continually
devising means for this purpose; and rejoice in what
others are doing, even if they belong not to our party
or denomination 
19. When the mind, though not slavishly, or ignorantly anxious about its state, or safety, keeps up a
jealous watchfulness over itself, and frequently examines itself before God:
20. When there is in affliction more anxiety to have
it sanctified than removed, and a prevailing acquiescence in the will of God in painful circumstances:
21, When the soul feels an habitual drawing to heaven, as to its native country and home:
Then may the professor who has such evidences conclude, that he is indeed a true follower of the Lamb,
and not self-deceived.