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DISC OURSES
ON
THE LORD'S PRAYER.
BY E. H. CHAPIN.
BOSTOIN:
N. E. UNIVERSALIST PUBLISHING HOUES,
No. 37 CORNHILL.
1866.




Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1850,
BY A. TOMPKINS,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts.




TO
THE SOCIETY AND CONGREGATION
BEFORE WH9VU
THESE DISCOURSES WERE DELIVERED,,
THIS BOOBK
IS AFFECTIONATELY- INSCRIBED
BY
THE AUTHOR.








CONTENTS.
DISCOURSE I.
Our Father which art in heaven."-Matthew vi. 9........... 11
DISCOURSE II.
" Hallowed be thy name." —Matthew vi. 9..................... 29
DISCOURSE III.' Thy Kingdom come." —Matthew vi. 10..................... 47
DISCOURSE IV.
"' Thy will be done in earth as it is in heaven."-Matthew vi. 10. 71
DISCOURSE V.
" Give us this day our daily bread."-Matthew vi. 11....   91
DISCOURSE VI.'And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors."-Matthew vi. 12............................................... 113




Viii.                  CONTENTS.
DISCOURSE VII.
" And lead us not into temptation."-Matthew vi. 13...,....... 139
DISCOURSE VIII.
" But deliver us from evil."-Matthew vi. 13................. 163
DISCOURSE IX.
" For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, forever.
Amen." —-Matthew vi. 13.................................. 185




PREFACE 
THE plan and purpose of this series are stated in the preliminary
remarks in the first discourse. It has not been my object to give a
critical exposition of the Lord's Prayer, but to draw from it those
practical suggestions which may at once enable us to repeat it with
a more intelligent and devout spirit, and to act out the great truths
which it involves in our daily work and conversation. In short, the
great result which I aim at in these discourses is that state of heart
and conduct in which we shall utter this prayer both with our lips
and with our lives. The reader of this book, then, need not expect
to find in it anything new in thought or interpretation, but I trust
that whoever may take it up for the purpose of quickening his religious affections, and animating him in the Christian life, may not be
disappointed-may find some help and profit.
I am conscious, however, that but little is said here compared with
what might be, upon this pregnant and beautiful formula. Like all
our Savior's teachings, we detect in it new suggestions each time
that we examine it-we find in it truths that cannot be exhausted,
and meanings that cannot be expressed. But my labors such as
they are, and with the object which I have stated, are here presented. May they be blessed of Him to whom so may ages and conditions of humanity have lifted and will lift this prayer, and may they
contribute something to the advancement of his cause who taught
us to utter it.                                  E. H. C.
NEW-YORK,  Dec. 11th, 1849.








DISC OURSES
ON THE
LORD' S PRAYER.
DISCOURSE I,
"Our Father which art in heaven."-Matthew vi: 9.
I INVITE your attention for a few Sabbath evenings,
to a series of discourses upon the Lord's Prayer. It is
not my purpose to enter into any critical disquisition upon
this great Formula. Some of its general characteristics,
and some reflections pertaining to it as a whole, I reserve
for my concluding remarks. But I propose to make each
sentence the text of a sermon, and to draw from the truth
it affirms, or suggests, its practical applications to the
workings of Christianity and the condition of the world,
to human life, and to the individual heart. At the same
time it will be my endeavor to excite that sentiment of
devotion which this Prayer is intended to assist, and to
explain its several passages. - Thus, in fact, I shall aim
to induce the end of all real prayer, which consists both
of action and aspiration, of inward communion and of




12      OUR FATHER WHICH ART IN HEAVEN.
outward conduct-which is, essentially, a desire, a worship, and a work. The clearer our apprehension of truth
-the more intense and personal our experience of itthe richer and the deeper will be our devotion. While,
on the other hand, the more fervent and habitual our
devotion, the quicker shall we detect, the more shall we
know, the better shall we obey, the truth. The man who
merely says the Lord's Prayer, as a prescribed routine
of words, evidently does not feel the sentiments which
it breathes, nor see the great doctrines which it affirms.
I shall consider it in these discourses, then, both as a
Series of Truths, and a Form of Devotion, and if thus,
to any degree, I may be instrumental in producing the
two-fold result which has been spoken of, I shall indeed
be glad, and upon that endeavor I now humbly invoke
the Blessing of God.
The Lord's Prayer appropriately commences with the
words of the text. God, who is the object of all true
worship, is the primary Idea of all being. His existence
alone explains the existence of anything. Atheism is
not only irreligious, it is absurd. It not only denies the
great postulate of faith and of devotion, but it breaks the
whole chain of physical causation and of material necessity. For there must be a Cause, else whence all these
effects?  There must be an independent Power, else
upon what do all these things rely? —that Power must be




OUR FATHER WHICH ART IN HEAVEN.         13
intelligent, else whence come this mutual correspondence,
this order, and this harmony? Therefore, if the universe
is a mere machine, if matter is the only reality, still its
beginning and its end must be God.
But matter is not the only reality. There is a class of
facts which a mere intellectual Force, or pantheistic Essence, does not satisfy. The moral nature of man-the
region of conscience and the will-requires something
more than the abstract Deity of the philosopher. The
existence of the will, indicates the existence of a Sovereignty which the will should obey. The motions of conscience demonstrate a Law of which conscience is the
suggestion. The God of the physical universe is also a
moral Being, else our moral nature is inexplicable. He
is the Source of virtue and the Sanction of duty.
But God is the source of virtue, and the sanction of
duty, because He is the best Being. Duty is binding,
and virtue supreme, because these meet and mingle in
the character of Infinite Goodness. God, considered
only as a King and a Lawgiver, does not fill the whole
sphere of being. There is still a class of facts not accounted for by the existence of One who only ordains
conscience and commands the will, any more than these
moral faculties are accounted'for by a mere Intellectual
Force that constructs the flower and moves the planet.
In our nature there are quenchless affections, yearning
2




14      OUR FATHER WHICH ART IN HEAVEN.
sympathies and eager desires. These call for something
more than God the Creator, or God the Ruler. Stirred
by these, we ask the all-important question-" What is
this Infinite Being by whose fiat we exist, and whose law
we are commanded to obey? What is His disposition
toward us?  What are our relations to Him?"  We
cannot escape His presence-we are nothing before His
power. He wraps us about more intimately than the
light, or the air. He holds us in the hollow of His hand.
One motion of his will, and we appear-flakes of being
drifting across the abyss of eternity! One breath of His
nostrils, and we pass away! How inevitable is our
condition! We cannot alter its great circumstances.
The irresistible current of existence bears us along. We
cannot deny life, nor hinder death. We cannot climb
beyond the bars of our earthly dwelling-place, nor change
our own essential nature. And what a wonderful and
awful thought is the bare idea of being! How startling,
when we stop and seriously think of it! And what a
strange existence is this in which we are involved,-made
up of permanence and mutation, crossed with good and
evil. And here we are, thus ordained, thus controlled,
surrounded by these lights and shadows, swinging among
these glittering islands and these gulfs of mystery! And,
I repeat, all is not satisfied when we learn that these
skillful forms about us had a Maker, and that these sanc



OUR FATHER WHICH ART IN HEAVEN.         15
tions within us have a Source. The affections, the clinging sympathies, the mounting desires of every man, cry
out-" What is God? How does He regard me? What
are the ties between us? What are His purposes concerning me?" These sentiments find rest, and these
questions are answered, when we ascertain that God is
ood; that goodness is His essential nature; that this is
the soul of all His attributes, and the spring of all His
purposes; that this prompted His creative work, and
dictates His moral rule-and thus, in this expression of
God, the whole circle of being is accounted for, and satisfied.
And yet, in order that we may consistently apprehend
this truth, in order that it may have a fixed and clear
expression for us, something more is needed than a mental conception of God.  Though reason may find out
His nature, and the soul acknowledge it, we cannot thus
grasp the idea of Infinity, or intensely realize His relation
to us. Though His character flashes out in every sunbeam and His presence is felt in every breath of wind,
yet, while having no clue but nature, man forms confused and partial notions of Him, sinking king into the grossness of idolatry, or soaring among the mazes of philosophy; making God a mighty abstraction, or a deformed
embodiment; with a beautiful Pantheism, conceiving
Him as the universal and inseparable essence of nature,




16      OUR FATHER WHICH ART IN HEAVEN.
or, with a hideous devotion, carving His image in wood
and stone.
We need an objective representation, a personal expression of God. We need some name that shall signify
the complete qualities of His Nature-that shall combine
our sublimest, devoutest, and tenderest ideas of Him.
We want an image of' the Deity that this finite intellect
can steadily see, that this wandering will and insufficient
conscience can intelligently represent and obey, that this
yearning and agitated heart can rest upon and love; and
we want one epithet which shall express all these characteristics at the same time-which shall tell their essential
unity and speak their highest meaning. My friends, that
Image has been given us in Jesus Christ. That epithet
he has taught us in that word expressive at once of the
giving of life, the claims of authority, and the quality of
goodness-that name of cause, and veneration, and love
-the name of Father.
This, then, is why I said that the Lord's Prayer appropriately begins as it does, not only with God, who is the
object of all devotion, but with a name significant of His
full nature, of His peculiar relations to us. Not only
with a name which even the old Pagan might use, but
with a name which Christ alone has taught us, and which
he alone has illustrated. And this great truth —the Paternity of God-which he has bid us remember in the




OUR FATHER WHICH ART IN HEAVEN.            17
solemn act of prayer, is, as it seems to me, the vital truth
of the Gospel. I need not tell you that the term in the
text is not a solitary-one. It was frequent on the lips of
Christ. He came especially to exhibit the great fact
which it affirms. Nor can I believe that it is used in
any sense which forbids its universal application.  Ail
may employ it. It expresses God's relation to all. %/Whatever may be the limitation ofthe term  under peculiar
circumstances, its essential interpretation is exhibited in
the very spirit of Christianity; its' broad scope, its mighty
oeaning, is illustrated in the parable of the Prodigal Son.
But let us consider more specifically this truth of God's
Paternity, and thus, while we detect its essential signifi-ance, we shall find further evidence of its application
to all men  In what sense, then, is God our Father?
We have often used this epithet; —do we really understand it? It may be a cardinal article of our faith, but
is it only a trite and unconsidered proposition with us?
Is it the sincere expression of our moral nature, the conviction of our reason and the testimony of our experience? God is not our Father simply, as the Author
of our existence. If so, then is He Father to the clod
of the valley, and the drop of dew. But this title expresses a quality different from mere creative energy. It
declares a relation which the Deity does not sustain to
all things.  Not in the sense in which He is the former




18      OUR FATHER WHICH ART IN HEAVEN.
of our bodies is he the Father of our spirits. Nor, again,
is God our Father simply as our Benefactor. For then
He would be Father to the beast of the field and the
bird of the air. But something more is implied in the
relationship we are now considering than mere Goodness
-the Benevolence that appears in the adaptations and
provides for the wants of every sentient being. Nor
should we conceive the Paternity of God as the overflow
of an indiscriminate Good-will. We should not dishonor
it, by attributing to it any weakness or incongruity. It
is perfectly compatible with justice and sovereignty, with
chastisement and discipline, with pain and sorrow.
God is our Father in a spiritual sense. He is our
Father, because we alone, of all earthly existences, bear
His image. Because, in finite degree, we have a nature
like His own. As man was the crowning act of His
creation, so was he distinguished from the rest of His
works. Those He called into being by a word; this He
molded with peculiar care, and into it He breathed a
living soul. He evinces His Paternal relation to us,
not merely through the general bounties of nature, but
by the special gifts of Revelation-not alone by the benignant privilege, but by the solicitous discipline of life.
Not only does He bestow upon us animal comforts, but
He seeks to impart to us more of His own character.
In one word, like the good earthly parent, He educates




OUR FATHER WHICH ART IN HEAVEN.         19
us. And this education is to be attained not by easy indulgence and perpetual enjoyment, but by unstinted exertion, through conflicts, trials, bitter experiences. All
that tends to make us spiritually pure, strong and free,
exhibits more clearly the relation between God and man
and shows that it is a peculiar relation.
It is obvious, then, that the Paternity of God is not
limited to any class of men, because every man has the
spiritual peculiarities to which that relation is attached.
The most feeble and degraded of our race is separated
by a broad line from all other creatures.  There is a
moral deep in him, a spiritual power, which, obscured as
it is, is not the possession of any other earthly being, and
is a dim image of the eternal. Under the cloud of sin
and the corruptions of sensualism, there is embosomed
an essence _which reflects the overshadowing of its Infinite Original, and sparkles in response to the uncreated
Light. His are unlimited capacities and an independent
will. His are ceaseless aspirations, and immortal longings. His is a divine birth-right, depraved but not wholly
obliterated-a nature not intrinsically mean, but alienated and discrowned. Yes, of the most ignorant savage,
of the vilest wretch we spurn, we may say all this. He
is a child of the Infinite Spirit. God is his Father. His
Father, not in any abstract and metaphorical sense, but
in a relation whose scope and intensity, whose grandeur




20      OUR FATHER WHICH ART IN HEAVEN.
and tenderness, overwhelm our thoughts and far exceed
our expression.
And yet, while God is thus essentially the Father of
all men, there is a practical sense in which He is specially the Father of some. He was the Father of Christ
in a respect in which He is not our Father, and He is
the Father of the good, in a sense in which He is not
the Father of the bad. This maybe termed not so much
a change in Him, as a peculiarity of condition in us.
Just in proportion as we realize our spiritual nature,
we realize our relation to Him. We perceive Him to
be our. Father in the degree in which we perceive the
grounds of that Paternity. Essentially, I repeat, He is
the Father of all men; but practically,'subjectively, He
is not the Father-of -the man who forgets His existence,
overlooks His Providence, disregards His requirements,
and in fact, lives "without God in the world." For there
are no filial'aspirations' in the heart of such a man.- He
has no child-like'trust, or communion.  To him, there is
no spiritual life in the motions of the universe, no expression' of infinite tenderness upon its face. Worshipping the objects of sense, he does not notice the intense
longings of his own soul. Swept in the sounding tide
of passion, he hears not "the still, small voice," inviting
to a holier and serener course. God's love is over him,
and God's mercy waits on him; but, in his sensualism




OUR FATHER WHICH ART IN HEAVEN.          21
and sin, he does not see the Father. He does not realize
his relationship to God, and, therefore, so far as it depends
upon his action, that relationship is as though it were not.
Here, too, is the man of mere intellect, who sees only
with the acute but narrow vision of logic; whose head
has no arterial connection with  his heart; whose dry
light of reason retains no glow from the affections.  He
sees nothing in the transfigured aspect of beauty, or
through the atmosphere of love. To him, the unrolled
ocean suggests only depth and quantity, and the heavens
sparkle merely with mathematical diagrams.  He constructs nicely-balanced theories, but they are as cold as
they are clear, and untrue because they are partial. He
sees only with the intellect.  He rests upon no basis
profounder than the intellect. He lacks sympathy, he
lacks moral enthusiasm, he lacks religious life.  Having
no affectionate affinities, he does not feel or see the Pa.
ternity of God. To him, the Deity is merely a First
Cause,- an abstract Intelligence.
But, to the man of spiritual aims and devout sentiment, of pure affections and of right reason, there is no
truth so great, so central, so apparent, as this of the Paternity of God.  The Gospel is full of it. It appears in
every lineament of the, universe.  It is the meaning of
creation; the explanation. of human history, the horizon
of reconciliation that broods around all the mystery of




22      OUR FATHER WHICH ART IN HEAVEN.
life. The man who believes this great truth, always
holds in his bosom a conscious joy and an everlasting
spring of hope. He is never alone. Nothing to him appears empty, or desolate. The solitary chamber, the
savage desert, for him is filled with a Being whom he
loves and adores. He throws open his window to the
night-sky, and, while all is still and slumbering below,
above him, farther than eye can reach or thought ascend
kindles the outspread glory of the Father. He rejoices
to come with filial trust in all perplexities, and shelter
himself under this brooding Paternity.  He feels the
heart of infinite Love beating close to his heart, and
throbbing through all the pulses of the universe. Nor is
this the emotion of diluted sentiment. God's essential
Paternity lends glory to all His attributes; His Wisdom,
Justice, Truth and Power-it kindles in the soul a loftier
and serener spirit of devotion, touches the spring of penitence, and makes us good because He is good. Evil
men may proclaim the Fatherhood of God with their
lips. But it is not the bad and the weak, who really
comprehend its meaning. The deeper our moral life and
the keener our spiritual vision, the clearer appears this
truth. The more we are like Christ, the more do we
realize it, the more confidingly do we rest under it, the
closer does it make our communion, with more pro



OUR FATHER WHICH ART IN HEAVEN.        23
found significance do we say —" Our Father which art in
heaven!"
Such is the sense in which God is our Father, and the
Father of all men. He is our Father and theirs, because
we are all spiritual beings. And, yet, this relation, comparatively, is as though it were not, until we realize it.
We realize it as we become more and more like Him.
In bringing these remarks to a close, then, let me urge
upon you the importance of realizing this truth, that you
may understand the words with which you commence
this prayer, that you may strive for that spiritual condition in which only you can truly know Him whom you
address.
First, then, it is important we should realize that God
is our Father, in order that we may have right views of
Religion. How essential such views are to our conduct and our peace,-I need not say. We do not all
live as we believe-we do not carry out practically the
utmost inferences of our creed. Some of us are worse,
it may be some of us are better than our faith. But yet
in some degree our faith affects our character-to a great
extent, it colors our view of life. If God is the beginning of all things, He is, in a peculiar sense, the beginning of our religion. Our highest endeavors after virtue
will be attempts to imitate Him. Our decision upon
specific questions of right and wrong will be governed




24      OUR FATHER WHICH ATR IN HEAVEN.
by our conceptions of the Divine nature. We shall religiously cherish those sentiments of which He is the absolute Expression. The view which we entertain of
Him, affects the whole spirit of the New-Testament.
This is the radical interpretation of texts and doctrines. Should God appear as a different Being from
what He does now, the whole burden of the Gospel
would be changed to us. On the other hand, he who
has been wandering in the maze of false conceptions,
and upon whom, at length, has burst the truth of God's
Paternity, opens his Bible as a new book. Christianity
spreads around him a firmament of sudden glory, and
reveals to his eye unexpected riches.
Again, it is important we should realize the truth of
God's Paternity, because of its consolations. I have
just said that it reconciles the mysteries of life. To the
purpose of the great Father we must often refer these
mysteries.  "That God has some good end in view," is
the conviction that enables us to bear up under them.
Our reason cannot penetrate them. All evil, in fact the
very existence of evil, is inexplicable until we refer to
the Paternity of God. It hangs a huge blot in the universe, until the orb of Divine Love rises behind it. In
that apposition we detect its meaning. It appears to us
but a finite shadow as it passes across the disc of Infinite
light. It is not necessary for me to specify the instances




OUR FATHER WHICH ART IN HEAVEN.       25
in which the truth of " God our Father," brings strength
and peace to the human soul. How deeply is it illustrated in the experience of many a heart beating around
me! Without any God, how awful would be the course of
life! We should be drifting across the sea of time, without an end and without a meaning. Again, without the
knowledge of God's character, our journey though guided
would still be overshadowed with changeful uncertainties. But now, knowing that He is our Father, through
the storm and the night we may trustingly proceed, for
the star of His compassion never sets, and He spans our
voyage with a zodiac of promises.
Once more; this great truth furnishes us with the profoundest motives to obedience. The basis of all genuine
service is love. He who demands the surrender of our will,
and the devotion of our hearts, beams upon us with all
the claims of his character. How can we turn from
such a service? What bliss in that loyal acquiescence,
in that conscious communion! What agony, what loss,
in that alienation and neglect! What motive to repentance stronger than God's Paternity? What encouragement to rise from our sins, more inspiring than His grace?
What sanction mightier to bind us to His law, than the
Love that was manifested for us in the bleeding sacrifice
of the cross?  What sting of retribution keener than
the thought of His abused mercies and His slighted prof



26      OUR FATHER WHICH ART IN HEAVEN.
fers? Oh! the doctrine of God's Paternity, in its full
glory, in its solemn sweetness, is anything but a weakening influence in the soul-is anything but an incitement
to sin. If we would only realize it, we should burst
these fetters of self-will; we should leap from this apathy
and indulgence; with unsealed hearts, with a keen and
joyful shame, we should cry —" Our Father which art in
heaven!"
Thus have I endeavored to lead you to some considerations suggested by the Text. In this light, then, consider the first sentence of the Lord's Prayer. "In this
manner," says the Savior, "therefore pray ye."  As
though assuredly we would pray. As though we would
do that which he taught both by precept and example.
As though we might be perplexed about the method, but
did not lack in disposition. And, yet, how many do lack
in the disposition! How many slight this high privilege
of devotion; rush from their chambers in the morning,
drop into the silence of slumber at night, mingle with
the temptations, and sins, and cares of the world, without a single uplifting of the heart to God, without once
seeking communion with Him whom angels worship, and
who graciously waits to hear! Yes, in this course of
weakness and uncertainty, of human need below and
Divine help above, there are those who never pray-or




OUR FATHER WHICH ART IN HEAVEN.        27
with whom prayer is the last resort in calamity and
dismay.
Yet we should pray, and prayer should be with us an
habitual reality of the soul, a supreme delight in the
happiest hours of life, as well as a resource in its
troubled seasons. And when we pray, let us say, "Our
Father which art in heaven."  "Our Father."  The
Father of all men. The Religion of Christ is individual
in its requirements, but general in its applications. It
demands the solitary discipline and the social work, and
even in our most secret devotions we must not indulge
the limitations of selfishness, but remember all with
whom God has linked us, and for whom we should labor; remember all, kindred, friends, enemies, the world.
" Which art," now even as of old, then manifest on
the mountain and in the thunder, but now breathing into
our souls the suggestions of His spirit, and the strength
of His help. "Which art in heaven."  In the region of
spiritual life, everywhere where the heart will seek and
the thought ascend.
With these conceptions, let us come and say —" Our
FATHER!" Yes, thus is the majesty of God brought
down to us. Thus is His Infinity personified. Thus is
His exhaustless Love tenderly expressed. Without this,
how awful, how overwhelming, would be the act of devotion! Science is daily revealing to us a wider scope and
3




28      OUR FATHER WHICH ART IN HEAVEN.
a loftier grandeur in the universe. To the exploring eye
it opens new vistas of creation, and pours upon its dazzled vision the brightness of innumerable suns. And,
among these, dimly swings this atom of a world, and far
beyond all reaches the Infinity of God! How could we
have confidence to look up to Him, through all these
countless myriads and this intolerable splendor? And,
again, when we consider His Holiness and our impurity,
the awfulness of God and the insignificance of man, were
it not for His own help, we should not dare to approach
Him. But this revelation of "The FATHER" has swept
away all the barriers of distance, it has streamed into
our souls through all the glories of the universe, it has
touched us with the intimate nearness, the infinite condescension of God, and gathered into that one name all
that is venerable with all that is lovely. Let us habitually avail ourselves, then, of the privilege made known
to us. In every experience of life, let us bring to His
footstool hearts of reverence and of penitence, of holy
desire and of filial trust.




DISCOURSE II.
"Hallowed be thy name." —Matthew vi: 9.
IN the preceding discourse we considered the meaning
of the term  "Father," as applied to God. Standing at
the commencement of this formula, that term fixes our
minds upon the nature of Him whom we approach. It
defines the great object of our supplication and our worship. The sentence-r" Our Father which art in heaven,"
being, therefore, a form  of address, the text constitutes
the first desire, or petition, of the Lord's Prayer.
The connection between this and the preceding clause,
however, is not accidental but essential. In the natural
order of things, we cannot pray "Hallowed be thy name,"
until we know what that name is; and, when we do
know it, we cannot refrain from this as the next and immediate expression. It is the outbursting flame of a
kindled heart. It is the spontaneous utterance of a soul
rapt with'the excellence of God, and postponing its personal requests in a general desire.
I hlave said that these words constitute the first petition




30          HALLOWED BE THY NAME.
in the Lord's Prayer. But, in fact, they are not wholly
a petition. The sentiment which breathes through them,
combines both petition and adoration. It mingles the
incense of homage with the earnestness of a wish. It
is what we say to God alone, of ourselves, upon the revelation of His Fatherhood, and with our thoughts fixed in
contemplation of His attributes. It is a lyrical exclamation, an irrepressible hallelujah. And yet, I repeat, it is
a prayer also. We ask as well as say-"- Hallowed be
thy name." The very fact that we sincerely adore that
Name, implies a desire in our hearts that others also may
render homage to it, and that we ourselves may honor it
better. As a prayer then, breaking out from the centre
of a devout worship, as a prayer that ourselves and others
may be more devout, I propose chiefly to consider it in
this discourse.
The form of expression in the text may be treated in
two ways. We may thus pray that God would hallow
His own Name, or that we, His children, may hallow it.
This two-fold petition, then, will separate my remarks
under two heads.
I. In breathing this prayer, we ask that God would
hallow Hlis own Name, or cause it to be hallowed. The
amount of this petition, the condition of its fulfillment,
is, simply, this-that our Father in heaven would make
Himself known, would more and more reveal Himself




HALLOWED BE THY NAME.             31
unto us and unto all men. This clear knowledge is the
only contingent in the case; certainly it is an essential
contingent. Surely, a full and steady perception of God,
would melt every heart in homage before Him. For
what is it to hallow God's name? It is to reverence it.
And what is reverence?  Upon what does it depend?
To what does it attach itself? I answer, in the first
place, that it is not the tribute which we pay to mere
power and magnitude, even though these should dilate to
infinity. We cannot reverence these unmingled with
other qualities. Nature appears to us in forms of greatness, and with manifestations of power. We are thrilled
with admiration, we crouch in awe, before its revelations.
We are lifted up with emotions of sublimity. But we
do not reverence any of these. We never apply this
term in regard to the material universe, filled as it is
with irresistible forces, and immeasurable magnitudes.
Neither do we reverence mere power, when exhibited by
man. We may be astonished or terrified at the dominion of a monarch, or the triumphs of a warrior. But
we do not reverence the mere greatness that is symbolized by a throne, or the success that is crowned with
reeking laurels. Nor can we reverence even a great intellect, separated from every other quality. True, intellectual energy is immensely superior to the physical force
of nature, or the circumstantial power of the king and




32           EHALLOWED BE THY NAME.
the hero. Far better than the tribute that we render in
palaces, or pay to victorious soldiers, is the sentiment
with which we honor that master-power beneath which
all material laws are plastic, which searches the secrets
of the universe, and binds us in its chain of demonstration. But call this sentiment wonder, admiration, enthusiasm, what we will, it is not that peculiar, that mingled
feeling which we term reverence. This sentiment, I repeat, is not rendered to mere power, or greatness, nay
not even to moral power-where the qualities displayed
are merely persistence and energy.
But, on the other hand, neither do we reverence mere
kindness, amiability, affection. These qualities win our
esteem and our love. They may even glorify a character that is deficient in other respects. They may compensate for many deformities. They may, at times. impart their innate energy to dullness, indolence, and timidity. But, after all, they are not sufficient to stir up that
profound and peculiar feeling which we are now considering. Sometimes degenerating into weakness, and absolute vice, even in their best estate they lack that intrinsic dignity which always abides in the object we truly
reverence.
Reverence, my friends, is a sentiment of combined
awe and love, of filial trust and obedient homage. There
are few to whom it can be rendered, and these must




HALLOWED BE THY NAME.               33
blend in their nature both power and tenderness, greatness and sympathy, authority and affection. In one
word, they must be good, not in the sentimental and
hackneyed, but in the simplest and high-toned sense. None
can so justly claim it on earth as they who really fulfil
the parental relation, and, therefore, in ascribing the
name of Father to the Infinite One, we also ascribe to
Him those qualities that demand our reverence magnified
to infinite extent. God is to be reverenced, for in Him
Power and Love, Authority and Condescension, mingle
in perfect harmony. And just in proportion as His nature breaks out upon us in all its fullness, we shall perceive its demands upon us, and it will be hallowed.
Now the importance of a full knowledge of God, in
order that He may be truly reverenced, truly worshiped
and hallowed, is seen in the existence of two great errors,
each resting upon a religious basis. The first of these,
is superstition. They who are misled by its influence,
are, perhaps, more than any, so far as mere professions
go, strenuous for the worship of God, and the sanctions
of religion. In fact, it generally passes under the name
of religion, and it is animated by a solicitous reference
to the Deity. In one form or another, God is besought,
God is invoked. Temples are decorated to His honor,
and altars steam with His worship. The Druid smears
his robes with human blood, and the Fakir cuts himself




34            HALLOWED BE THY NAME.
with knives. In all this there is worship-but it is an
awful worship.  There is a deep sense of God —but He
is a God pavilioned in thunder, and clothed with dreadful flame. The Deity is seen as Greatness and Power,
but His Love and His Mercy are obscured. Or, if the
light of Revelation has modified these savage conceptions, and dispelled these gross externals, in how many
instances do men act not from the sentiment of reverence
but from that of terror, and worship God, essentially, as
only infinite Greatness, or absolute Power!  To such,
Religion is not a fresh reality, but a tradition and a form.
Duty is not the absolute Right, but an arbitrary routine.
Faith is not rational, but imperative. They speak of
"the love of God," and of its inward experience, yet
how often is this a strained and wavering emotion, sometimes overflowing in a bigoted zeal, sometimes wrapped
in a feverish mysticism. It is not a spontaneous emotion. Its interior spring is terror, and its expression is
constrained and fearful.  The joy of true love is not in
it. It does not spring up, like living water, everlastingly.
About this kind of religion-if we should term it religion-there is a cloistered narrowness and unreality.
The ample air and the glad light are not in it. God's
benignity does not overarch the universe. His benevolence does not animate the lineaments of nature.  His
loving-kindness does not consecrate the mysteries of lifte.




HALLOWED BE THY NAME.               35
His Presence is not a consoling and uplifting idea in the
soul. He is the Deity of the Law, not of the Gospel —
the Sovereign who spoke through the thick cloud and
he trumpet-blast, not the Father who beamed in Jesus
Christ. He is to be served only in one circle of duty,
in one sphere of action, not in various forms of conduct.
He is found only in vaulted churches, or in a "dim, religious light," of retirement; not in the scenery of nature
and on the face of the outward world, in the pomp of
the heavens and the festival of the flowers, in the realities of history and the open communions of daily life.
Now this idea of religion, this idea of God, whatever
its symbols or its name, is superstitious. It is partial. It
conceives only a Deity of absolute Power and infinite
Authority. Its terror is not reverence. God is worshiped. but His name is not truly hallowed.
The other religious error to which I referred, as indi.
cating a partial knowledge of God, and in which, therefore, His name is not truly hallowed, may be called an
Epicurean laxity, or un-moral sentimentalism.  In this
view, the Deity is virtually regarded as merely a goodnatured Being, too gracious to punish sin, and too tender
to inflict pain. According to this system, evil itself is
very often defined as an unsubstantial negation, the reverse side of goodness, and sin as a necessity, or misfortune on the part of man. The benevolence of God, as




36            HALLOWED BE THY NAME.
it appears in the department of natural theology, is much
dwelt upon. In the volume of Revealed Religion, the
promises of the Gospel almost exclusively occupy the
attention. Now, out of this arise many amiable and
noble conceptions. The heart is frequently warmed with
generous incentives, and swept by gushes of devout rapture. The universe throbs with perpetual gladness, and
life is lighted up with everlasting hope. But, after all,
this theory is defective. It is exclusive and superficial.
It lacks moral depth and stringency. The great sanctions of duty, the dignity and responsibility of free-agency, the profoundest definitions and the highest ends of
goodness, the excellence and necessity of holiness, do
not appear in it-or appear but faintly. It does not contain that which prostrates a man with humility, and
smites him with contrition; which sends him in to search
his own heart, and to wrestle earnestly with his own nature, his passions, and motives, and principles of life. The
guilt of sin is not sufficiently felt and pondered. It presents too few incentives to prayer, to deep, personal meditation. Virtue is regarded rather as mere innocence
than an athletic attainment, demanding all the powers,
and comprehending the highest results of the soul.
It induces no course of spiritual discipline, of inner
life and growth. Nor is this to be explained merely
by saying, that those who occupy this position have




HALLOWED BE THY NAME.              37
adopted religion as a set of opinions and a code of moralities, rather than a principle of personal and spiritual
life-as a view of truth, rather than an experimental application of it. This is true; but it is also true that the
error has sprung from a partial conception of God. He
has been considered as a kind and merciful Being, but
not sufficiently in His moral nature and His majesty.
And this partial conception exists, perhaps, because men
have not entered enough into their own moral natures,
but have looked too much upon the surface of things.
Yet, whatever may be the original processes of this error, I repeat it subsists upon a partial conception of God.
He is not only a tender Benefactor, but a moral Ruler,
to whom virtue, rectitude, holiness, is supreme. He  is
the best Being. He is truly " the Father of our spirits,"
because in Him justice blends with mercy, righteousness
with kindness, purity with condescension, and His benignity is one with infinite power and infinite authority.
He is supremely good, but goodness, my friends, is not
indiscriminating affection-is not a sentiment which
would dictate the bestowal of immediate ease regardless
of ends-but, for the sake of permanent, righteous and
blessed ends, it often prevents immediate ease. And in
nothing is the goodness of God more evident than in the
fact that He has precipitated man upon the balance of
free-agency, that by his own choice and by the efforts of
8




38           HALLOWED Bh THY NAME.
his own will, he might attain not only the bliss but the
intrinsic life and power of virtue. In nothing is the
goodness of God more evident than in the fact that, as
man is a free-agent, he has been made subject to moral
sanctions, and placed in a world of discipline, for only
by spiritual struggles within, and impediments of evil
without, could he attain the end and the glory of freeagency. This system, therefore, which insists only upon
the exterior benevolence of God, and holds this only as
a perception, or as the agent of fitful emotion, and which
takes but feebly into the account-if at all-His righteousness, His justice, His inward requirements, I term
un-moral, and merely sentimental; and affirm that it does
not represent the fullness, it does not completely define
the goodness of God. It does not over-rate the Love
of God-its power, extent, endurance; God himself is
Love; —but it does not fully show how that Love manifests itself, what is its end, and what is its process. By
this theory, God's name is acknowledged but not hallowed-He is worshiped in gladness but not in reverence.
Thus, when we pray-" Hallowed be thy name," we
may ask that God would manifest himself more fully
For we see that the gravest errors issue from undue conceptions of Him; error itself is the partial perception
rather than the total ignorance of truth. In breathing
this petition, we desire that God would reveal Himself




HALLOWED BE THY NAME.             39
as He is, and, thus dispel our false images of Him. For
too much we fashion God after our own hearts, and project an idea of Him from among the lights and shadows
of our own souls. In saying-" Hallowed be thy name,"
we pray that God would beam out in the blended qualities of His nature. So, everywhere, shall the altars of
superstition crumble, its fearful rites cease, its mental
clouds disperse in that great light. So, everywhere, shall
a superficial morality and a nerveless sentimentalism, be
changed to a strenuous virtue and a devout life.
II. But I pass to the second division of my discourse,
and remark that, with these same words, we can also
pray that we, that all men; may hallow the name of God.
Nay, my friends, virtually, we do make this petition,
or else we use the words in mockery. We do not
really desire that God's name may be hallowed, unless we resolve ourselves to reverence it.  That is
no prayer which does not join conduct to aspiration.
We say —" Our Father which art in heaven, hallowed be
thy name," but the pointed question presses home upon
us-do we hallow it?-do we mean to hallow it? Or
does it signify nothing with us? Is it merely a form that
we learned in childhood? A familiar petition, that we
mutter without regard to - what it implies or requires?
If, on the other hand, this is a sincere prayer with us,
then will we resolve and endeavor to consecrate- this




40           HALLOWED BE THY NAME.
great Name on our lips, in our lives, and in our hearts.
To these three points I propose to devote the concluding
portion of my discourse.
First, then, if we would use this prayer sincerely, we
must hallow God's name upon our lips. It will never be
a light word there. It will never drop out in jest, or ring
in blasphemy. I wish to touch this point earnestly. I
would speak strongly against the common sin of Profaneness. Are there any before me who are accustomed to
use God's name as an expletive, and to bandy it as a byword? Who employ it in all kinds of conversation, and
throw it about in every place? Perhaps, in their hearts,
they consider this habit as an accomplishment! think it
manly and brave to swear! Let me say, then, that profaneness is a brutal vice. He who indulges it is no
gentleman. I care not what his stamp may be in society.
I care not what clothes he wears, or what culture he
boasts. Despite all his refinement, the light and habitual
taking of God's name, betrays a coarse nature, and a
brutal will.- Nay, he tacitly admits that it is ungentlemanly. He restrains his oaths in the presence of ladies;
and he who fears not to rush into the chancery of heaven
and swear by the Majesty there, is decently observant
in the drawing-room and the parlor. But, again, Profaneness is an unmanly and silly vice. It certainly is
not a grace in conversation, and it adds no strength to




HALLOWE'D BE THY NAME,           41
it. There is no organic symmetry in the narrative that
is ingrained with oaths; and the blasphemy that bolb
sters an opinion does not make it any more correct. Our
mother-English has variety enough to make a story
sparkle, and to give point to wit; it has toughness and
vehemence enough to furnish the sinews for a debate and
to drive home a conviction; without degrading the holy
epithets of Jehovah. Nay, the use of these expletives,
argues a limited range of ideas, and a consciousness of
being on the wrong side. And if we can find no other
phrases through which to vent our choking passion, we
had better repress that passion. And, again, Profaneness is a mean vice.  It indicates the grossest ingratitude. According to general estimation, he who repays kindness with contumely, he who abuses his friend
and benefactor, is deemed pitiful and wretched. And yet,
oh profane man! whose name is it you handle so lightly?
It is that of your best Benefactor! You, whose blood
would boil to hear the venerable names of your earthly
parents hurled about in scoffs and jests, abuse, without
compunction and without thought, the name of your
heavenly Father! Finally, Profaneness is an awful vice.
Once more I ask, Whose name is it you so lightly use?
That name of GOD!-have you ever pondered its meaning? Have you ever thought what it is that you mingle
thus with your passion and your wit? It is the name ol




42           HALLOWED BE THY NAME.
Him whom the angels worship, and Whom the heaven
of heavens cannot contain!
Surely, then, we cannot sincerely breathe the petition
of the text, if we do not consecrate God's name upon
our lips. That Prayer cannot consistently accompany
Profaneness. The one will never escape the doors of
the mouth, if we utter the other from the heart. Profane
man, though habit be ever so stringent with you, when
the word of mockery and of blasphemy is about to leap
from your lips, think of the considerations just suggested
-think of God-and, instead of that rude oath, cry out
in reverent prayer " Hallowed be thy name!"
But, in the second place, I would say that, in order to
utter this Prayer sincerely, we must hallow God's name
in our lives-in our habitual conduct. Many a man
whose lips are clean from oaths, and who never uses
God's name lightly, may live without any reference to
His claims. Every man does live so who has some object that is, practically, higher than God, and that stands
in the place of God. How common is the sin of Idolatry! Not the worship of graven images, but a pursuit
of aims and an application of means showing that men
render supreme homage to something else than the true
Deity-that His is not the name they habitually honor
and hallow. It is not that they have some great temporal object in view which they seek with strenuous effort,




HALLOWED BE THY NAME.              43
but that to this purpose they warp all moral considerations, and sacrifice all religious claims. Where God, by
the voice of-conscience, or by the written word, indicates one path, they for the sake of their darling object
turn into another. While He claims their affections
they surrender them  to this temporal end, and He is
neglected. This, let it appear in what form it will, is
idolatry. The man who is bent on the gratification of
his appetites, whose eyes turn restlessly in quest of delight and whose pulses bound with continual desire, is an
idolator. He worships sensual good-the flower-crowned
and voluptuous image of pleasure, whose ritual is the
tinkling cymbal and the circling wine-cup. The monitions of duty and the voice that calls him to higher aims,
are unheeded. His energies and his time are exhausted
for this one end. The man whose main object is popular fame and popular power, is prone to idolatry. His
standard of action is the whim of the multitude, his principles are plastic to their prejudices. Or if he controls
them, and plays with cunning upon their passions, his
moral code is always level to policy, and works in the
traces of an unsanctified ambition. He may endeavor
to cheat conscience, and to call his obliquities by a good
name, but evidently, he worships reputation and success
more than he worships God. The absorbed wealth-seeker
is an idolator. His god is gold. No fasts are too pain



44            HALLOWED BE THY NAME.
ful, no vigils too late, no pilgrimages too remote to secure
its favor. He endures willingly and eagerly torrid heat
and polar cold, the festering miasma of one climate and
the deadly chill of another, the dangers of the wilderness
and the ocean. Would he do as much as this for the
highest calls of duty?'Would he serve the true God,
with as much energy and patience?  These illustrations,
which might be greatly multiplied, are sufficient to show
us the necessity of hallowing God's name in daily life,
in every pursuit and in every aim.
Finally; we must hallow God's name in our hearts.
We must cherish reverent thoughts of Him  in the inmost recesses of our souls. We must feel His Presence
about us, and within us. We must think and act in the
awe of that Presence. It must be the greatest of all
Realities to us. Without this there can be no true hallowing of His name. Without this we cannot consecrate it in our lives, or respect it with our lips. Without
this we shall possess no spring of moral life, no consistency of moral action, no lofty and sacred aim.
We need at the present day, more than anything else,
a sense of God. On the whole, ours is an irreverent
age. There is a thirst for innovation, an impatience of
authority, a contempt for the old and the past, that leaps
far beyond the medium-line of truth, and over-steps the
limits of honesty as well, as of modesty. In the crash of




HALLOWED BE TRlY NAME.              45
revolutions and the decisions of criticism, in the zeal for
reform and the desire for progress, tet us not forget that
there are some things always venerable.  The sentiment
of reverence is one of the noblest in human nature, and
the heart that is empty of it, is empty of all that ensures
the permanence of any morality. And especially, I say,
nust the sense of God be alive and constant in our souls.
Without it we lose the sanctions and the ends of life.
Without it we do not truly live. It is this that is lacking in the hearts of those to whose idolatry I have just
alluded. Theirs is not merely misdirected activity, but
a partial activity-an activity that leaves the deepest
channel of humanity dry. They do not live in a sense
of God, and, therefore, spiritually, they do not live at all.
Certainiy, there are many like these whom the Bible
pronounces not alive —not alive to their highest interests, not living their best life. In this way a community
wrapped up in secularity and sin, with all its gay variety
and all its bustle, -regarded by a vision of spiritual discernment, seems dead and desolate. Yes, those diligent
forms appear as lifeless as the embalmed nations who
people the catacombs of Thebes, and the appeals of religion, the incentives to higher life, the moving Presence
of God, is as unfelt amid this waste of worldliness, as
the wind that sighs over the unconscious sands of the
desert.




46           HALLOWED BE THY NAME.
The great answer, then, that we require to this petition,
is that God's name may be hallowed, that His Presence
may be realized, in our hearts. With this consciousness,
therefore, let us utter it. With the thought of Him as
the Infinite whose scope comprehends the universe, and
who dwells in the humblest soul; with the thought of
Him as the Good, whose bounties are poured continually
around us; with the thought of Him as the Holy, whom
seraphs perpetually adore; let us pray "Hallowed be
thy name!'" Oh God! hallow it. Let us see thee more
clearly in our joy and our sorrow, in change and immutability, in all the facts of the inner and the outer universe. And in all our agency, in all the action of the
world, in its busy marts and its secret chambers, in its
seasons of toil and its seasons of devotion, at every period and in every place, in lip, and life, and heart, grant
that we may hallow it.




DISCOURSE  III.
" Thy Kingdom come."-Matthew vi: 10.
WE have seen that the first two sentences of the Lord's
Prayer have an organic connection. The same relation
exists between the words of the text and the preceding
clause. When God's name is everywhere hallowed,
His kingdom  will have come. He will not be truly
worshiped, until every land and every heart shall have
rendered Him  its allegiance. But while the realization
of the desire expressed in the text is necessary to the
fulfillment of the foregoing petition; on the other hand,
the perception of God's character and of true worship,
is essential to that spiritual fraternity which is so profound an element, and to that human brotherhood which
is so prominent a feature in the consummation called
"the Kingdom of God."  There is no bond of union so
vital As a common worship. There is no cause of separation so effectual as different ideas of Religion. This
is sufficiently illustrated in the sectarian affinities and antipathies immediately about us. And, in looking through




48              THY KINGDOM COME.
the world, this fact becomes more apparent, as religious
differences and resemblances are more or less radical.
Therefore, I repeat, in praying for the Reign of Heaven,
we comprehend the universal knowledge ana universal
worship of the Father.
Having thus considered the relative nature of this petition, let us now proceed to discuss its burden and its
object. In endeavoring to do this, I shall distribute my
remarks under three heads.
I. Let us observe the fact that this consummate blessing
is to come. However correctly, in some instances, the
phrase " Kingdom of God," or " Kingdom of Heaven,"
may be applied to the setting up of the christian dispensa
tion, or to the blessedness of the immortal world, no doubt
the original term should frequently be translated "Reign,"
instead of "Kingdom,"-" Reign of God," ";Reign of
Heaven." It indicates a principle, rather than a.form;
a progressive force, and not a fixed dominion. In this
sense it is employed in the Lord's Prayer, and, therefore,
the text should be rendered —" thy Reign come." But,
however we render the term, it certainly signifies a consummation not yet attained. The petition "thy Kingdomr come!" is as proper now as it was in the days of
Jesus. It pertains to a Result that sweeps immeasurably
beyond the limits of the Jewish polity-it reaches into
iages far remote from the primitive era of the Gospel.




THY KINGDOM COME.               49
And, although a perfect realization of the Ideal comprehended in that Kingdom may never be accomplished in
this world, even for this world it suggests a better condition than any that has yet been experienced.
A great'good to come, then-a better era for the individual and for the race —this is the first suggestion of
the text. The vision of Christianity is prospective; Unlike Paganism, its " golden age " is in the future. Whatever theory we may entertain concerning primeval time,
with whatever innocence it may have been peopled, with
whatever glory adorned, it is not for us to sigh over its
lost loveliness, or to cast back wistful glances upon its
glimmering gates. The Gospel requires of us diligent
hands, prayerful hearts, and a forward look. It urges
self-sacrifice, but it holds out a glorious expectancy. Humanity is in neither a state of decay, nor of stagnation.
It is moving, and moving for the better. Continents of
time and mountains of difficulty may stretch between us
and that glad era,- but a serene light streams down from
heaven upon the destinies of the race, and an auroral
promise tints the horizon of the future.
But I refer to this prospective attitude of Christianity,
because it thus exhibits two characteristics especially
wolrthy our notice. First, it is in accordance with the
general working of God. Progress is the law of universal being. Everything that can be considered as a




50              THY KINGDOM COME.
permanent whole, at least, is constantly developing. In
the physical world, for instance, isolated forms of matter
may have their cycles, passing through periods of decline
as well as growth. But the material universe, considered as a whole, appears to be always unfolding higher
conditions. The operation of this law is manifest in the
history of the earth and in the movements of the stars.
The conquests of progress are marked in hoary strata,
and commemorated by medallions set in solid rock. The
firmament over our heads, suggests an uncompleted purpose; and that its sparkling worlds are only the blossoms
of creation.
I need not say that progress is also the law of the
human soul. Whatever may be the limitations of mind
in other stages of being, we know that here its essential
characteristic, and, indeed, one great proof of its immortality, is an ever-unfolding power, retained amid the
decay of the body, and plucked from the withering garniture of age.
With this general law of progress, I repeat, Christianity is in beautiful accordance. It is not a fixed system.
An everlasting Principle in itself, it has no unchangeable
and universal forms. With infinite depths of truth, and
an incessant spring of spiritual life, it cannot be limited
to any time, or petrified in any shape. It is fluent and
eternal. The reconciling element of the world, it goes




THY KINGDOM COME.               51
forth into every age, and responds to the deepest tone of
want in every posture of humanity. In fact, for every
new epoch it is a new Revelation. It ever demands a
present and cannot be confined to a past interpretation.
There is always an original meaning —a meaning adapted to the times-in the Miracles and the Teachings, the
Cross and the Sepulchre, the Personality and the Life of
Jesus. Not that the Gospel essentially changes, but it
adjusts itself to the vision of man, or, rather, man sees
it from different points of view; not that a jot of its familiar truth grows stale, but each filament unfolds new
relations, and assumes a new expression. Now Christianity is a primitive congregation, and now a magnificent
hierarchy; now it is Catholic, and now Protestant; now
it shelters its life in a conservative monasticism, now it
bursts upon the world in the multiform forces of modern
civilization; now, as a lax and wilful individualism prevails, it is crowned with Divine authority; now, as
mankind are hindered and crushed by a centralizing despotism, it opens with an intense humanity. In one word,
Christianity, although introduced by miracle, has fallen
into the ordinary current of Providence. Not by external ruptures, and sudden shocks, but with an inner life,
it gradually fills every pore and artery. It is adjusted to
the conditions of a progressive race. And yet, this adjustment is not a servile compliance, but a condescend



52              THY KINGDOM COME,
ing and uplifting sympathy. Mingling thus with the
conditions of one age, it induces the better estate of another, and creates those yet deeper wants which it alone
can satisfy. It exalts humanity by accompanying it,
and, ever creating higher ideals, it always appears in the
van as the only help and interpretation. It not only
awaits man as a glorious kingdom to come; it goes with
him, andprepares him for that kingdom. It is not only
the object of his best hopes, and his devout desires, but
it is his guide through the tangled journey of the present. And, while thus we find that it is not a fixed religion, we also see that it did not break at once upon the
world with all its power and blessedness. It reserved
its consummation for a happier future, which mankind
can attain only by prayer and toil. And, no doubt, although now, and ever since its advent, men have found
in it inexpressible riches of truth and love, the more
exalted natures and the purer vision of that better time,
shall detect in it still deeper meanings, and know that it
contains an excellence which we can hardly conceive.
The other characteristic presented by Christianity in
this prospective attitude, is indicated in the wise benevolence of such a position. By proclaiming a better era,
it gives to individuals and to the race, the loftiest inspiration of hope. And how essential this sentiment is, I
need not say. It is the life of all enterprise and all irm




THY KINGDOM COMRE              53
provement. Fix man in one posture, or shift him into a
retrograde condition, and every noble faculty would be
paralyzed. What is true here of the individual, is true
of the race. It is possible that there are some so intensely selfish that human good in general, seems of no
importance to them. But every true man is interested
in the prospects of the race; in the condition of future
generations. Every one, to some degree, looks forward
beyond his own earthly period, and does something that
will not affect himself so much as those who will come
after him. We cannot forget our interest in this common earth. Though in a few years, at the farthest, its
springing life will be nothing to us, and we can engage
in its busy schemes no more, though soon it shall hide us
in its bosom and unknown multitudes will trample upon
our dust, yet, with affectionate curiosity, we ask what
shall be upon this planet whose sweet light we have enjoyed so much; with an irrepressible sympathy we mix
our thoughts and feelings with those-'of unborn ages. I
cannot think there is any man to whom the certainty of
a fixed condition for the human race no better than the
present would not be disheartening, even though he -will
soon pass out from it. There is no good heart that would
not sink with despair to know that mankind is growing
worse, and that the future would be' more vile than the
present, even though that future were thousands of years




54              THY KINGDOM COME.
ahead. Therefore each generation, though living far
from its consummation, rejoices to believe that there is
a Kingdom to come —a Kingdom of Holiness, Truth,
and Love. And each generation, realizing that it is not
contributing to a circuitous, or short-lived result, puts
forth a more sacred diligence, and builds up a more solid
fabric. The best things that men have done, have been
those acts of self-sacrifice and of love, which refer, chiefly, to the future. All that inspires the mission of teachers, and the attempts of reformers, all that has nerved philanthropists to toil and martyrs to die, is the prospect of
a good argued from the present, but lighting up the summits of distant ages. And, often, when the vision has
been too intensely confined to the present; often, when
the atmosphere of sensualism wraps itself around us;
when the pit of sin yawns open and exposes all its
hideous shapes; when Famine staggers unheeded through
fields of plenty, and Virtue is stricken down with contemptuous laughter, when Oppression rears his impudent
front, and Corruption runs through the streets, the promise implied in this petition-" Thy Kingdom come,"
murmuring under all the mass of evil, steadies the wavering trust and nerves the drooping arm.
In the fact that this Kingdom is to come, then, we see
an evidence of its Divine authenticity. In its adjustment
to the law of progress, in its ministration to the uplifting




THY KINGDOM COME.               55
sentiment of hope, we have an answer to the troubled
faith, or the skeptical sneer, which asks-why Christianity did not come at once in its full glory, and why, even
yet, it has accomplished so little of its work.
II. Let us, in the next place, consider some of the
indications of that coming. As we have just considered the gradual nature of this coming, we cannot expect
to discover a great advancement within any narrow
scope of time. Our decision as to the success or defeat
of any great cause, will depend very much upon our
scale of measurement. If we measure by years, or by
generations even, it may appear to have gained nothing;
nay, owing to the limitation of our vision, it may seem
to retrograde, instead of moving, as it really does, steadily onward, as the stars seem to turn backward when
we forget the motion of the earth, and mistake it for a
fixed centre. In studying the fact of human progress,
as affected by Christianity, then, we must employ a
standard equal to the magnitude of the movement. We
must not consider merely the access or recess in isolated
instances. We must examine the tide-water marks of
centuries, and then we shall find that the great deep, as
a whole, has been heaved up to a higher level. In thirty,
or even a hundred years, Christianity may have accomplished comparatively but little-but see what it has
done in eighteen-hundred years! There is no need of




56               THY KINGDOM COME.
detailed illustrations of this truth; but let us refresh our
consciousness by referring to two or three general instances.
That the Kingdom of God is coming, I would observe,
in the first place, is indicated by the fact that the most
civilized communities of the world are in a far better
condition now, than the same class of communities were
before the advent of Jesus.  Whatever seasons of corruption may have intervened, there has never been, since
then, any absolute decline in society. The pulse of improvement has beat steadily through the most stagnant
periods. The darkest ages were- lighted by a higher intelligence, and animated by a profounder morality, than
Egypt, or Greece, or Rome, in their best estate. Of
course, I do not speak now of the sublime and chosen
few, but I contrast the masses of one epoch with the
masses of another. And I would bear upon this, as a
main point-that the general operation of Christianity is
to be compared with the general operation:of elements
which existed before it, and that its progressive influence
is to be detected in general results. I say, then, that the
moment Christianity struck the earth, it was evident
that a new and astonishing force was in the world-a
force affecting the mass of humanity, and not merely a
few individuals, a sect, or a nation. Yes, a new force it
was that burst as it were from the very core of the




THY KINGDOM COME.               57
world, breaking the old order of things in pieces, dashing down its marble superstitions, injecting- a distinct
peculiarity among its granitic customs, and leaving a
chasm  between ancient and modern history.  That
dividing-line which no eye can miss, is the threshold
whence the Kingdom of God began its march through
the earth. Since then it has been evident that a moral
Power is among men, accomplishing vast and blessed
changes. Whatever may have been the specific differences between Athens and Rome for instance, they bear
a common resemblance indicating the operation of common ideas. But go forward as many years from the
preaching of the Apostles, as backward previous to their
mission, and see what a revolution had been wrought in
the very heart of society. We may find, perhaps,-a less
refined literature, less graceful manners, and, on the
whole, a ruder civilization-but a far healthier one. A
civilization, too, containing a spring of progress, the energy of which we feel to day, and the limit of which we
dare not prophecy. We shall find the uncultivated
masses, bound by sanctions which the great men of Paganism could not fix, and lifted by a faith which they
could not obtain.*
And see what ideas have come down to us since the
*See this argument forcibly illustrated in Volume xiv of " Small
Books on Great Subjects," entitled " The state of man before the pro,
mulgation of Christianity," p. 3-5.




58              THY KINGDOM COME.
coming of Christ; ideas whose very familiarity constitutes the argument I am now urging. The great doctrine of human brotherhood, of the worth of a man;
that he is not to be trod upon as a footstool, or dashed
in pieces as a worthless vessel; and the doctrines that
grow out of this, the doctrines of popular liberty,
education and reform, all these have become. active
and every-day truths only under the influence of Christianity.
Consider, too, those ideas of religion which breathe
around us in the atmosphere of every Sabbath, which
consecrate and lift up the humblest congregation-the
conceptions of God, of human life, of immortality. How
changed is the attitude of men respecting spiritual things!
How has this material sphere burst into infinite relations,
and the grave lost its terror. How are the guilt and
privation of life girdled about with institutions of philanthropy, and its afflictions spanned by the midnight
firmament of faith!
But, contrast the general moral aspects of humanity
before and since the advent of Christianity, and, moreover, select the most unfavorable point for modern movality. It is a perplexing question whether, as nations
tdvance in refinement, they do not inevitably decline in.heir moral life..We may inquire, therefore, whether'hristianity itself has a conservative influence sufficient



THY KINGDOM COME.               59
ly vigorous to prevent its communities from sliding into
the worst abominations of Pompeii, or Corinth. In one
word, let us take the problem presented by great cities
-Paris, London, New-York, and we shall detect, I
think, even in such societies, the indications of a moral
life far better than the best results of ancient civilization.
Think of the brutality of those ancient times. Contrast the feelings with which grave senators and chaste
women thronged the bloody amphitheatre, with the disgust and indignation which so generally follow the least
imitation of such spectacles, at the present day. Well
has it been observed, too, that " Christianity has expurgated the literature of Greece and Rome."  While now
immorality is introduced by stealth among the productions of the pen, and these are productions of the meanest
sort, how unblushingly did the best minds of old, not
only by permission, but by expectation, blot their pages
with filth and vice. If such things are done now, they
are not done openly by writers like Catullus or Juvenal. Again, consider how vice now, even when practised, hides itself, is protested against, is repudiated even
by the hypocrite who indulges it. Certainly, the respected and the wise condemn it, and such a, protest is
essential to both their wisdom and their reputation. No
one dares approve it, like Cato in the street, or Cicero
in the forum. But, above all, our religion confronts such




60              THY KINGDOM COME.
iniquity, wars against it, and moves us to overcome it
Can we say this of the religions of antiquity? Can we
say this of those who attended a Lupercalian or a Bacchic festival? Even when corruption in modern society
is deep, and seems deepening, the true conception
remains. There is a moral ideal, a popular standard
of virtue, that rebukes this corruption, and that furnishes
a recuperative influence.
These, I know, are familiar instances, but I repeat, in
the very fact that they are familiar there is a profound
indication of the progress which the world has made
under the influence of the christian religion. Their familiarity may sometimes deaden their reality to us, and
it is well when some local evil, some temporary declension, induces us to despond, to refresh our consciousness
of these familiar facts, these general and unmistakeable
lineaments of improvement. Thus we shall cherish with
new strength our faith in human progress. Amid much
evil, mystery, and confusion, we shall detect the calm
working of God, and hear the steady march of His
Kingdom  in the earth, beating like the beating of the
world's heart, full of prophecy and full of hope.
III. Let us, finally, turn to consider the essential
nature of this Kingdom. This point has been somewhat anticipated. I ha.ve said that the word "Kingdom," as used in the Lord's Prayer, should be transla



THY KINGDOM COME.                61
ted "Reign," and that it indicates a principle rather
than a form, a spiritual force rather than a fixed and
local dominion.  But this should not lead us into the
error of supposing it to be a mere abstraction, a diffused
and unorganized influence, a mere sentiment, or philosophy. The Kingdom of God has two characteristics, the
one external, the other internal.
Considered externally, it is an Historical Fact, and
it has an organized Form.  It is vitally connected
with the Life and Personality of Jesus.'It is a progressive principle, but it is not the mere "principle of
progress," in the ordinary use of that phrase. It harmonizes with that law of development by which the
flower unfolds and the tree grows; it coalesces with that
method through which the intellect of man attains its
excellence; but it is distinguished from these; it is something more than these. It is not what we usually term
a natural law. It springs from a fixed point, it starts
from a known era in the world's history, it streams out
from the central Personage of the Gospels.  I do not
mean to say that there were no preparations for it.
There were-in the world at large, as well as in the
Jewish economy. But I do say that these preparations
owe their significance to Christ's coming. By his comrn..
ing, we learn that they were preparations. I do say that
by him these preliminary elements were first systemati6




62              THY KINGDOM COME.
zed  By him they were first concentrated and became
a peculiar force, as they were not while isolated. At his
coming they were drawn to a focus, brought to bear
upon the world, and produced an effect in the world, as
never before. As a special law of progress, then-as
"the Kingdom of God,"-this spiritual force dates as an
historical fact; and from the life and the teachings of
Christ, it first begins to leaven the earth and to change
its complexion.
Nor should we have built up these great results of the
present, by our own unaided effort, and in the natural
course of things. This spiritual force, this progressive
element, comes to us as a help from God-as a special
Revelation. We pray to the Father, saying-" Thy
Kingdom come!" Not ours-not a deliverance we
can achieve, an ideal we have wrought. A " Kingdom
of heaven." Not something we can project from our
unguided intuitions, or pluck from the suggestions of
science, or from systems of philosophy. Before the advent of Jesus, something was needed by humanity, and
sought for, which it could not obtain of itself. It is this
desire, this want, that sighs wistfully from the great heart
of Heathenism. It is this that heaves up in broken longings from among the symbols of a declining worship. It
is this that clouds with dissatisfaction the glory of the
oracle, and strips the veil from the beautiful deceits of




TIHY KINGDOM COME.             63
mythology. It is this that breathes in snatches of fragmentary music, wandering as if in search of the full
harmony. It was because of this that Philosophy struggled but could not attain, and the wisest intellects groped
among strange splendors and awful shadows. It was
this that made the world look at the time Christ came,
like a world in eclipse, an exhausted world, a world of
orphanage. He filled a great want which until then was
unsatisfied. He realized an Ideal, which until then was
incomplete. He imparted a power to the soul, which
until -then it did not possess. Now there is no reason
for maintaining that the experience of the past would
not be the experience of the present, if Christianity had
not appeared. Until its advent there existed this want
-at its advent this want is supplied, and new life and
new hope inspire mankind. Whatever, therefore, might
have been the natural progress of the soul by this time, to
that Historical era I point as indicating the period of a
special influence-a time to which men once looked forward and to which they now defer. Judging by the
past, I contend that without that Revelation we should
not stand on the high ground we now occupy. And, if
I am told that the present stage of human progress is a
natural development, I say-not so. There has evidently
been a wonderful and peculiar crisis in the history of the
race. If intellect and affection, if intuition and senti



64  THY KINGDOM COME.
ment could have achieved this profound moral life and
this firm, transcendant faith, why did they not do so before Christ? Were there not then as noble hearts,
and as colossal intellects as now?  Did not these
intuitions work as curiously, did not reason seek as ardently for truth? Did not the moral nature gravitate
as spontaneously towards an ideal virtue? Did not
Love mourn as tenderly over the graves of the dead?
If, then, this high faith, this spiritual life, are merely
natural developments, why not known before? But am
I referred to our advantages, that did not surround those
ancient minds? Yet, whence the spring of all these advantages?  Yes, we have advantages that the good and
the wise of old had not-even that living WORD that
was made known to the world, eighteen hundred years
ago. Or, once more, is it said that Christianity itself,
although a great propelling force, is a natural product of
circumstances-that the very wants and desires to which
T have alluded, engendered it? With more reason
should we say, that it was an adaptation to those wants
-that it did not spring from them, but descended to
meet them. I repeat, then, that, while I do not deny the
kindly helps of nature, and the intrinsic revelations of
the human soul, Christianity is something more than
these, and the Kingdom of God could not have been
built up without its peculiarity. It is an Historical Re



THY KINGDOM COME.               65
ligion-an organized system'of Truth-a Personal embodiment of Righteousness, which Kings and Prophets
desired to see, but did not; which we see, and which
gives a specific definition and a concrete character to
the Kingdom of heaven.
But this Kingdom is also internal, and, having sufficiently guarded against misapprehension, I observe, that
chiefly, essentially, it is spiritual, and is in the human soul.
Christ emphatically declared that "it comes not with
observation." The Jew was waiting for some outward
display. He expected a material revelation of this kingdom. That it would come as with a whirlwind, breaking the cedars of Lebanon-that it would advance as
with the tramp of armies, shaking Cesar on his thronethat it would descend manifestly from heaven-that it
would hover in mystic glory above the temple. And
yet, even while the Scribes and Pharisees were looking
for it, lo! it had come, and he who introduced it told
them it was among them. It was felt rather than seen,
and yet to a discerning eye it was manifest in the
absorbed attention of the multitude, and the new powers
of the disciples.  It had come in a strange energy,
breathing over the sea of Galilee and among the leaves
of Olivet. He did not strive nor cry, and yet when his
cross was reared its throne was already set up; when
his Apostles went forth with their message its dominion




66               THY KINGDOM COME.
had commenced. No custom had yielded, no institution
was abolished, yet calmly that force was developing itself
which should change the world's aspect, and regenerate
the world's heart-before which idolatries should crumble and empires pass away. It was a spiritual power.
Its seat was in the human heart-its conquest was over
the human soul.
Yet, even now, it is to be apprehended, that men but
crudely understand the spiritual nature of this Kingdom
-that still they too much regard it as outward and
future, too little as present and universal. Let me say,
then, that this Kingdom of heaven for which we pray,
is neither a ceremonial nor a territory, it is not mere deliverance from social wrongs or from outward evils, it is
not merely the blessedness of the immortal world, or the
millenial epoch. It is all these-it comprehends these;
it may be manifested in these various phases-but primarily, essentially, it is not these. It is simply Holiness,
Truth, and Love; and when we pray "Thy Kingdom
come!" we pray that it may descend into, regenerate,
and dwell in our hearts and in all hearts. It is not meat
and drink, but "' righteousness, and peace, and joy in the
Holy Ghost." I would that we might realize this truth,
for it would prevent many errors in thought and conduct.
It would teach us how and where to look for its indica.
tions. It would impress us with a sense of our indivi




THY KINGDOM COME.              67
dual agency and our individual responsibility, in regard
to this Kingdom. When our own hearts come under
the control of Divine affections, and are moved by holy
aspirations; when Divine truth is clear to our minds,
and we are obedient to its dictates, then is that prayer
answered for ourselves-then for us has that Kingdom
come.
And as to the advancement of that Kingdom through
the world, letus cherish no conceptions which are calculated to discourage our exertions, or to induce an indolent fatalism. Let us not expect that it will come
suddenly and irresistibly, without patience and labor.
Let us not dwell too much upon the social aspects and
the material splendors of this Kingdom. Nor should
we obscure the true idea of this consummation even
with the glories of heaven. It is true, we cannot fix a
limit to the whole idea which is involved in the prayer
of the text. We cannot say how much is external, and
how much is internal in that desired condition, or to
what degree the blessedness of heaven mingles with the
possibilities of earth. But again I say, let us remember
that however, or wherever that consummation may appear, it is essentially a state of the soul-it expresses the
bliss and excellence of holy and loving spirits, and no
material figures can adequately symbolize it.
And now, my friends, as I bring these remarks to a




68               THY KINGDOM COME.
close, I cannot help observing the peculiar appropriateness of our theme to the present condition of the world.
It is a time of universal agitation, and of momentous interest. It is an age of gigantic materialism.. On every
hand, science is penetrating the domain of matter, and
subduing its essence to the human will; while the lust
of gold is fed by the discovery of treasure richer than
the dreams of fiction. It is an age, too, of controversy
and experiment, of the profoundest questionings and the
most critical issues.  The genius of Reform, whether we
call it by a good, or a bad name, wrestles with established power, the spirit of innovation stirs the most sluggish
veins, and the torch of investigation flares in the face
of all authority.  In fine, as never before, it seems as
if the great conflict between good and evil, the trial
whether material or spiritual interests shall predominate,
were, for a long time to come at least, to be decided.
Who, then, can be indifferent to the decision?  Who
amid this upspringing of material interests, this fall of
dynasties, this activity of intellectual and moral forces,
will not continually utter the prayer of the text? If,
then, we understand its meaning; if we are honestly
conscious that it is to be fulfilled by our labor as well as
our supplications; if we would realize it in our own
souls and have it extend to the souls of others; if we
trust in the glorious promise which it implies; if we




THY KINGDOM COME.               69
heartily desire that great consummation; let us wrestle
with it in the secrecy of the closet, let us lift it amid the
busy and contending principles of the world; let us
breathe it through the dead formalities; of religion —for
never was it needed more!








DISCOURSE IV.
" Thy will be done in earth as it is in heaven?'-Matthew vi: 10.
THE Christian conception of man's relation to God,
involves two ideas-Dependence and Obedience. We
live, move, and have our being, in an all-comprehending
Spirit, apart from which we could no more exist than
drops separated from the fountain. He who controls
the mechanism of nature, touches all the springs of our
life. His constant force sustains us, and His irresistible
ordinances engird us. We are the creatures of Infinite
Power and the pensioners of exhaustless Goodness.
Thus, human nature, considered by itself, appears incompetent. It instinctively leans upon something higher.
And in the consciousness of dependence, thus manifest,
in the soul, philosophers detect a universal intuition of
the Deity.
Yet, with this consciousness, mingles another —that of
spiritual affinity to-the Creator. We know that we are
not merely His creatures, but His offspring. We share
his nature.  And the glory of that nature is moral




72 THY WILL BE DONE IN EARTH AS IT IS IN HEAVEN.
freedom-power to act or to resist, to choose or to reject. So, although as finite existences we hang upon the
Infinite, although as material creatures we are held in
an irresistible control, as spiritual beings we have a
sphere of our own, a realm of voluntary action. Into
this circle, God does not intrude His absolute Power, but
His intrinsic Righteousness. He does not force it, but
He appeals to it. He does not bind its service as the
Omnipotent Maker, but demands its free allegiance as
the Moral Governor. And if, as we have seen, on the
one hand, the human soul assumes the attitude of incompleteness and reliance; on this, it evinces a consciousness of liberty, a conviction of power, a feeling of
obligation. And if, moreover, the general instinct of
dependence proves the existence of a God, as profound
a proof appears in this universal moral sense-this idea
of obedience. And these ideas, I repeat, Christianity
blends. If we are truly imbued with its spirit, we cannot separate them.' They form one conception; and
the sentiment with which we regard the Deity is at once
one of reverence and of love, of prayer and homage,
of responsibility and resignation.
I speak now of the practical conclusion to which
Christianity brings us. Back of this, there is a question
of immemorial controversy-the question between God's
sovereignty and man's agency. But, I repeat, the prac



THY WILL BE DONE IN EARTH AS IT IS IN HEAVEN. 73
tical conclusion to which our Religion brings us-the
conclusion upon which we spontaneously act, and from
which we live every day-the mood of mind, in short,
with which we breathe the prayer of the text, is not
prevented by this question. Whatever logical inconsistency may be detected in our sentiments, and debated
upon at other times, when we come before God, we combine the ideas of dependence and obedience. Feeling
that there is a wide sphere in which He acts irresistibly,
we also feel that there is a wide sphere in which He is
not served; and so, with a- mingled desire, we pray"Thy Will be done!"
And yet, though, while using the general expressions
of the prayer, we combine these sentiments, there are
special seasons when one will be more prominent in our
souls than another, and may even for a time glow exclusively there; and for either we shall find the language
of the text a proper vehicle. We may utter it as a
sentiment of Resignation, or as a sentiment of Responsibility. A consideration of these two conditions will
naturally distribute my remarks under two heads.
I. I observe, then, that there are circumstances which
peculiarly quicken our sense of dependence. When we
go out into the material universe, and consider its manifestations of infinite Power, a Power which, being central and diffusive, ordains both variety and harmony,




74 THY WILL BE DONE IN EARTH AS IT IS IN HEAVEN.
projects these enormous forces, and secures this beauti.
ful order; when we consider the range of its influence
and the minuteness of its, touch-how sublimely great
masses obey its dictates, and with what alacrity each
little pipe and valve fulfils its part, and yet, while tides
change and planets turn, how calmly the great circle
spins its diligent task; and then, when we consider that
our being also hangs upon the fiat of this universal Controller-that the Eye which looks through all this complexity, numbers the hairs of our head-that the Presence which shows itself in this great accordance, glances upon us in the light and wraps us with the wind; in
such a mood of the soul, feeling peculiarly the pressure
of the Divine Power, and yet ardently conscious, also,
that it is a Power of Order, Beneficence, and Beauty,
we think of nothing but our dependence as a part of the
stupendous mechanism; we lean back upon the mighty
whole; we utter a devout ejaculation in harmony with
the general current of things; we pour, as it were, our
glad consent in among these fluent necessities of nature,
and exclaim-" Thy Will be done!"
Again, there are times when theielements around us
break out in appalling manifestations. The earthquake
overturns the dwellings of men, and the volcano blasts
their vineyards. The ship goes down at. sea, and the
agonized cry of hundreds is unheard amid the roar of




THY WILL BE DONE IN EARTH AS IT IS IN HEAVEN. 75
the tempest and the dash of the billows. The Pestilence
marches across the earth like an invisible host, beleagures
nations and decimates cities. Famine haunts the hearthstone and the threshold, and broods in the empty cornfields! The very forces whose serene order inspires us
with admiration, and whose bountiful provisions supply
our wants, thus become agents of ruin and dismay. We
are overtaken by a conviction of weakness. Evidently,
a Hand far stronger than our own, is unbinding the secret powers or checking the ordinary currents of nature.
We can neither command nor escape them. Our art is
baffled, and we must yield. And then, if our faith is
firm and clear, the ejaculation in the text will appropriately leap from our hearts.
Or some more private affliction has smitten us. Some
well-wrought plan has been disappointed. Our promise
is killed, our hope is put out. We find that we have
leaned upon a reed, and it has broken and pierced us.
Sickness, perhaps, has surprised us in the midst of many
cares. Or, notwithstanding all our diligence, poverty
has come upon us "like an armed man."  Or our tenderest affections have been touched and torn. We have
stood by some new-made grave. We have consigned
some dear form to the dust. We have returned to the
house of mourning, and for the first time have realized
the emptiness and the desolation of our home. And




'76 THY WILL BE DONE IN EARTHI AS IT IS IN HEAVEN.
again we are oppressed by a sense of utter weaknessof a mysterious Power that disposes of us and our circumstances-a Power that we cannot hinder. And, if
the depth of our grief is qualified by genuine submission,
if our agony is wrung from a filial heart, there are no
words so fitted for us as the words now before us.
Here, then, or in other conditions of human life that
might be suggested, there is forced upon us a profound
sense of dependence, and of dependence upon God alone.
For the things in which we usually trust, and upon which
we confidingly lean, are plucked from us. Our skill is
baffled, our power is as a straw, and those in whom we
had garnered our affections, and who seemed to us a
shelter from the inclemency of the world, are cut down
and leave us alone. Dependence, I repeat, and dependence upon the Infinite only, is the great conviction which
oversweeps us, and we may well say-what else can we
say?_-" Thy Will be done!"
But, I remark further, if we breathe this prayer intelligently, we do not contemplate mere Power; we do not
separate the Omnipotence of God from the rest of His
Attributes.  We consider to Whose will we submit.
Nor must we confound His Will with His Sovereignty.
His sovereignty is His absolute control. His will is the
disposition with which He wields that control. Power
is but the instrument, Will is the intention which wields




THY WILL BE DONE IN EARTH AS IT IS IN HEAVEN.'77
the instrument. Power is not a moral quality. As has
been shown in a previous discourse, it may command
our awe and our admiration, but of itself it cannot claim
our worship. When we pray —" Thy Will be done,"
then, we must have reference to the character of the
Deity; to His Wisdom, Justice, and Goodness, as well
as His Power. Otherwise, the ejaculation is slavishness not true worship. It is a forced acquiescence, not
a devout desire. The Christian always regards the moral
significance unfolded in every display of God's supremacy, and in all His workings. In one word, he recognizes God in all. But the man who sees only the power
and not the intention; who says " Thy Will be done,"
because he must, without discrimination as to whose
will it is, or what it is, hardly feels, in any sense, the
sentiment of the text. He would express the same acquiescence if there were no God-if he were chained to
the wheel of destiny, and driven by the blind forces of
nature.
In close connection- with this error, and, in fact a
modification of the same principle, is that fatalism
which translates " Thy Will be done," into an excuse
for indolence and neglect. Doubtless, there are many
who assume the attitude of pious resignation without
the sentiment.  They cast upon Providence the burden
of their own follies and sins. The sluggard mourns over




78 THY WILL BE DONE IN EARTH AS IT IS IN HEAVEN.
his barren fields, and says —" Thy Will be done!" " Thy
Will be done!" exclaims the improvident man entangled among the miseries of poverty. And he who has
carelessly strained the laws of his physical being, and
lies wasting to death, utters the same devout language.
But let us understand that fatalism, whether it assume
the form of torpid acquiescence, or of inconsiderate reliance, is not resignation. It is right to recognize an
overruling Providence, but it is a Providence that works
with us, not for us. The impatience with which we
beat the walls of difficulty and heave against misfortune,
is not an impious discontent, but a spring of noble enterprise, which God encourages, for which He has opened a wide sphere of action, and by which alone we can
achieve success. To suppose that He prevents this
effort, is,to suppose that He infringes His own ordinances established for the wisest and most benevolent ends.
To attribute calamity to Him without making this effort,
is to confound faith with folly,and religion with laziness.
Only by the diligent exertion of our own will, can we
realize the Will of God mysteriously working with us.
Only when we have reached the boundary of our extremest effort, can we see the superior purpose which
encircles us. Only when we have done all we can, and
plainly perceive that the current of a mightier, a wiser
and a better Will sets against ours and sways things oth



THY WILL BE DONE IN EARTH AS IT IS IN HEAVEN. 79
erwise, only then springs up within us a vivid consciousnence of dependence, only then breaks from our lips a
sincere prayer of resignation.
We see, then, that under a consciousness of human
weakness, it is a great thing to say-" Thy Will be done!"
To say it not in sullen acquiescence, not in indolent reliance, not in formal mockery. To say it when our best
hopes are breaking, when the dearest objects are plucked
away, when our hearts are wrung with loss, and disappointment, and suspense. A great thing to say it profoundly, out from depths of our nature that are stirred
with wonder and with agony. To say it with the full
force of our souls. To say it while our tears are falling
in the light of religious trust. It is a great thing, too, to
know why we say it, and what we mean by it; nay, we
cannot truly utter it without we do know. We cannot
rightly say it without an intelligent perception of God.
Only when the expressions that stand before it in the.
Lord's Prayer, are known by us not as an accidental
succession of sentences in a formula but as the natural
unfolding of a spiritual experience, can we really breathe
the sentiment of the text. Only when with an understanding mind, and a heartfelt desire, we have said"Our Father which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name,
thy Kingdom come;" only then can we sincerely say" Thy Will be done."




80 THY WILL BE DONE IN EARTH AS IT IS IN HEAVEN.
II. But, passing to the second division of my discourse, I remark, that we may employ the words of the
text when quickened by the sense of Responsibility.
The prayer is not merely one of resigned acquiescence, but
of earnest desire. To repeat what I said in the outset, we
utter this petition feeling that not only is there a wide
sphere in which God acts irresistibly, but also there is a
wide sphere in which He is not served. It is in reference
to the last, that I speak under this head. Turning from the
field of nature, where God's control is so apparent; turning
from those resistless mysteries of life that mingle with the
experience of us all and fill us with a vivid consciousness of dependence; we find a world in which His Will
is not completely done. It is the world of man's moral
nature, and of his moral action. I do not intend to embarass myself with the controversy to which I alluded
in the commencement of this discourse-the question
between the sovereignty of God and the free-agency of
man. Mere logic cannot settle the dispute; for it demonstr;.tes one side just as much as the other; or at
least, in the controversy, logic is met by an authority
equally legitimate. That authority is our own moral
sense. We are conscious of a will, independent and
personal. In this we find a strong demonstration of the
existence of a God. For the experience of a will in ourselves, renders us capable of detecting the indications of




THY WILL BE DONE IN EARTH AS IT IS IN HEAVEN. 81
another and a Divine Will in the works of the universe.
The experience of the independent personality of our
own will, enables us to confirm the independent personality of God's Will-that He is not one with his creation-that we are separate beings from  Him. The
existence of His sovereignty, too, of His infinite will, is
proved by a process of argument that legitimates our
own sovereignty, however limited that sovereignty may
be-its freedom in a certain sphere, however narrow
that sphere. Knowing that He is a mind from the fact
that we are minds,-we also know that a distinguishing
characteristic of mind is moral freedom, power of choice
and action, a sense of right and wrong. This separates it from matter-this separates man from the brute.
If, then, we have the essential prerogatives of mind, and
if we are separate minds from the Deity, we may act
counter to God's Will.
But not only does consciousness suggest that we may
act counter to God's will, it assures us that we do thus
act. No man, however logically he may have arrived
at the conclusion that he sins-by God's adamantine decree, that he is fated to be wicked, fails to feel rebuked
when he does sin. Conscience mutters its thunder
against the wrong, and a sense of retribution opens in
his soul. But why the indignant remonstrance, why the
foreboding fear, if he has done only what he was obliged




82 THY WILL BE DONE IN EARTH AS IT IS IN HEAVEN.
to do? Say what he will, his moral nature, as authene
tic and as infallible as his intellect, assures him by its
rebuke that he had a power of choice, and that having
freely chosen the wrong he must pay the penalty of his
election.
But, not protracting discussion, I assume from the
language of the text, that God's will is not done, offering
the views which I have just given as an interpretation
of that language. In the moral world, in the world of
man's own power and action, however we may explain
it, evidently there is a profound sense in which that will
is not obeyed. I have spoken of the occasional outbreak
of material elements-of the tempest, the pestilence, and
the volcano. But, after all, from whence come the worst
desolations in the earth?-what are the most fearful
wrecks we see? Are not man's passions more fierce
than the elements? Are not the ruin and dismay they
cause, more dreadful? Are not the spectacles which
sicken our souls the most; which most trouble the faith
of the Christian, and perplex the labors of the philanthropist; those which have come from the workings of
the human will, and out from the doors of the human
heart?
While, in bowing to the irresistible evils of our lot,
the human soul frequently illustrates its dignity, in yielding to evils that it might resist, and that spring from its




THY WILL BE DONE IN EARTH AS IT IS IN HEAVEN. 83
own depths, it exposes its weakness and its shame. And
while from the desolations of the material universefrom the torn mountain, the earthquake's wrinkles, the
scars.of the tempest-come rich suggestions of sublimity and beauty, how striking, often, is the contrast
between the aspects of nature and the world that man
makes! Sunny lands overspread with indolence and
vice; fair cities, whose splendors are tarnished by
steams of corruption; while the morning and the night
look down upon crimes that mock their loveliness and
insult their purity. See how another force, different
from and counter to that power upon which we all depend, prevails in the earth! That human form, so skillfully fashioned but now marred by intemperance; the
loathsome flesh, the trembling limbs, the silly stare, the
unhinged reason, the gibbering speech, the imbruited
man-this is not the work of nature, this is no irresistible fatality; it is the expression of a human will that
has surrendered to appetite, and that is consumed by lust.
Enter some haunt of infamy, and looking with pure and
sad eyes below all the tawdry glitter, the sensual show,
ponder the wreck and desolation there! Humanity,
garnished with its own shame, and laughing at its own
sacrifice! Jaded beauty bronzed too hard to blush; art
lending the blushes that abused nature will not give!
The crown of womanhood cast down, and the wealth




84 THY WILL BE DONE IN EARTH AS IT IS IN HEAVEN.
of her affections transmuted to iniquity and deceit. And
yet, beneath those frivolous blandishments, what broken
memories of good still linger, what a dreary sense of
loss, what utter misery! And, if we could uncoil the
windings of the heart that first projected this result; if
we could read the soul of the tempter who betrayed confiding love, and balanced virtue against needed gold, or
bread; truly, my friends, we should realize that there is
a will in the world, working fearfully, which is not God's
Will!
Or if, turning from forms of evil which open upon us
in saloons and cellars, we look out upon wider theatres
of human action, how appalling are the spectacles that
meet us! I will detain you, however, for illustration, with
only one, and this I cannot forego. It is so familiar anld
yet so striking; it shows so forcibly how much man's
passions have marred man's condition, and, as I have
said, how deep is the contrast, often, between the work
he does, and the universe in which he lives.
Stand, then, in imagination, of a summer's morning,
upon a field of battle. Earth and sky melt together in
light and harmony. The air is rich with fragrance, and
sweet with the song of birds. But, suddenly, breaks in
the sound of fiercer music, and the measured tramp of
thousands.  Eager squadrons shake the earth with thunder, and files of bristling steel kindle in the sun. And




THY WILL BE DONE IN EARTH AS IT IS IN HEAVEN. 85
opposed to each other, line to line, face to face, are now
arrayed men whom God has made in the same likeness,
and whose nature He has touched to the same issues.
The same heart beats in all. In the momentary hush,
like a swift mist sweep before them images of home.
Voices of children prattle in their ears, Memories of
affection stir among their silent prayers. They cherish
the same sanctities, too. They have read from the same
Book. It is to them the same charter of life and salvation. They have been taught to observe its beautiful
lessons of love. Their hearts have been touched alike
with the meek Example of Jesus.  But a moment
-and all these affinities are broken, trampled under foot,
swept away by the shock and the shouting. Confusion
rends the air. The simmering bomb ploughs up the
earth. The iron hail cuts the quivering flesh. The steel
bites to the bone. The cannon-shot crashes through serried ranks. And under a cloud of smoke that hides both
earth and heaven, the desperate struggle goes on. The
day wanes, and the strife ceases. On the one side there
is a victory, on the other a defeat. The triumphant city
is lighted with jubilee, the streets roll out their tides of
acclamation, and the organ heaves from its groaning
breast the peal of thanksgiving. But. under that tumul.
tuous joy, there are bleeding bosoms and inconsolable
tears. And, whether in triumphant or defeated lands, a
8




86 THY WILL BE DONE IN EARTH AS IT IS IN HEAVEN.
shudder of orphanage and widowhood, a chill of wo and
death runs far and wide through the world. The meek
moon breaks the dissipating vail of the conflict, and rolls
its calm  splendor above the dead. And see now how
much wo man has mingled with the inevitable evils of
the universe! See now the fierceness of his passioin,
the folly of his wickedness, witnessed by the torn standards, the broken wheels, the pools of clotted blood, the
charred earth, the festering heaps of slain. Nature did
not make these horrors, and, when those fattening bones
shall have mouldered in the soil, she will spread out luxuriant harvests, to hide those horrors forever.
No, my friends, the moral world, the world of man's
action, is not in harmony with the Will of God. The
earth, like a huge whispering-gallery, reverberates with
echoes of unnecessary wo. There peal the sighs of unrelieved want, the protests of abused confidence, the
prayer that bursts from the middle-passage of the slaveship, the clank of chains rising from fields of oppression.
Reason as we will, there is that within us that shrinks
from attributing this to the desire of the infinite Father.
At least, there is that which urges us with a strong conviction of need-with a strong conviction of discord and evil
-to breathe earnestly the prayer —" Thy Will be done!"
This, then, I conceive to be another mode of applying the words of the text. With a sense of responsibil



THY WILL BE DONE IN EARTH AS IT Ir IN HEAVEN. 87
ity resting in man, we pray that the moral evils in the
world may pass away, that humanity may be changed
to peace and holiness-may become one with God.
Looking out upon the wide earth, with the glorious prospect of what it may be contrasted with what it is-of
light and harmony, of righteousness and joy, taking the
place of all this sin and wo, we lift the fervent petition
before us.
And yet, while implicating ourselves with all this, we
likewise refer to something out'of ourselves. We distinctly recognize a Will working with us. We feel that a
Power far mightier than our own, mingles with the issues
of the moral world. I would not present the arena of
human action in too gloomy an aspect. I would not
hide the horizon of promise that glows around it. If
God does not ordain evil He resists it, and in the conflict the good is stronger than the bad. Nor would I
urge any doctrine which makes the mortal universe a
chaos and an uncertainty. Let us cherish faith in an
overruling Providence in history, and in individual circumstances. Those men who have accomplished the
most; who have left their mark in the world, and given
an impulse. to future ages, have always cherished this
high faith in a sovereign rule and an appointed destiny.
But I cto urge that we should likewise be true to our
own consfiousness which asserts our free-agency, and




88 THY WILL BE DONE IN EARTH AS IT IS IN HEAVEN.
that we find that point in moral action where the indications of an overruling Providence harmonize with the
idea of human responsibility. And especially do I ask
you to consider the individual application of this prayer.
We pray that God's will may be done. But do we do it
— do you and I strive to accomplish it? Let us not
confine our attention to the aspects of the world at large.
Let each look into his own heart. How is that? Is
there no moral dislocation —no resistance to God's will
there?  Are we reconciled to Him?  If not, then we
shall, of all things, strive and pray, seeking for His
spiritual help, His working in us, until our will becomes
one with His. This, indeed, is the most intense, the
most necessary application of all. Without this, whatever else we may profess or do, our prayer is insincere.
I have now shown how the Prayer of the text is appropriate for either of the conceptions involved in our
relations to God-appropriate as an expression of dependence, and as a desire for obedience. But while I
have exhibited the accordance of the petition with these
two facts; or, rather, have shown that these two facts
are harmonized in the prayer; let me remind you, in
closing, that in the text itself we have an interpretation
of its meaning. "Thy will be done in earth as it is
in heaven!  To what do we refer here by the term
" Heaven?"  Do we mean the material firmament, the




THY WILL BE DONE IN EARTH AS IT IS IN HEAVEN. 89
starry canopy above our heads?  The reference is
appropriate even if this is our meaning. For how
beautifully is God's Will done by those revolving
spheres, those bright and circling systems? A common influence binds them; and how  diligent their
obedience, how peaceful their motions, how calmly
the eternal law shines out from them through all
the changing years! And do we pray that thus we and
all men, may move in harmony each with each, and all
with God? That thus we may obey, and feel the beating of his influence, the current of His consent mingling
eternally with ours? So may it be then, if we take
this material order merely as an illustration. But if we
mean more than this-if we would see not only an illustration but the result itself, then, when we say "as in
heaven," we must look higher. For, surely, we are
not mere masses of matter; machines moved only by a
foreign touch, and propelled upon the orbit of an inflexible destiny. We are spirits, we are moral, we are
free! And if we would behold the ideal result of this
prayer, then we must look into the spiritual heaven, the
abode of angelic hosts, and of "the just made perfect."
" Let thy will be done, O God!" we should say, " as it
is there-in the heaven of spiritual order but of voluntary obedience; where every will is free, yet is in unison with thine." That heaven whose glory is the con



90 THY WILL BE DONE. IN EARTH AS IT IS IN HEAVEN.
sciousness in each of a self-balanced power gravitating
to the Infinite Centre of all. Where the bliss of each
is to be like the will that each does. Let thy will be
done, 0 God! harmoniously, as in the material, freely,
as in the spiritual heaven. The convulsed and groaning
earth sends up the cry-our erring, guilty hearts send
up the cry-" Let thy will be done in earth, as it is done
far above these sins and sorrows, in the realm of obedience and joy, of perpetual worship and perpetual action, of boundless peace and boundless love!"




DISCOURSE V.
"c Give us this day our daily bread."-Matthew vi: 11.
ALTHOUGH, as has been shown, individual reference is
implied in preceding sentences of this Prayer, the text
is the.. first in which personal supplication is actually
expressed. The foregoing petitions are more largely
qualified by the sentiment of homage, this contains more
specially the sentiment of desire. When we pray that
God's Name may be hallowed, or His Kingdom come,
or His Will be done, we virtually pray that we may
hallow His name, that His kingdom may be established
in our souls; that His will may be accomplished through
the harmonious consent of our natures with His. Yet,
these may be uttered as ejaculations, breathed in the
posture of worship, general aspirations kindled by a contemplation of God's glory, and only after reflection,
drawn down and applied to our personal wants and duties. But the prayer of the text, is, as it were, forced
out by the pressure of immediate necessities, and lifted
as a stringent desire. In the consciousness not only of




92.     GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD.
God's Power and Excellence, but of our human weakness and solicitous need, we cry-" Give us this day our
daily bread!"
As another introductory remark, it may be well to say
that the main points involved in the last discourse are
again brought before us by the text, although here they
have a different reference. If, then, this fact should
occasion some similarity of ideas, I trust that these ideas
may be more vividly impressed upon your minds by variety of illustration.
With these preliminary considerations, let us now
proceed to discuss the spirit of this petition, the meaning
which we should attach to it, the way in which we can
consistently use it. In other words, let us dwell upon
some suggestions which spring from the language of the
text.
I. The words before us, show that earthly interests
and animal wants have an appropriate place in our
prayers. Perhaps it is not too much to say, that, among
religionists of almost every class, there is a tendency to
undervalue, and even to despise, our material existence,
and the facts with which it is peculiarly connected.
There is" a habit of speaking of the earth in which we
live, and the body through which we act, that, as a mere
expression of the comparative value of sensual and
spiritual things, is not justifiable.  Though "spiritual




GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD.        93
interests are real and supreme," material interests are
not entirely unworthy. But, while there are some in
whom the opposite tendency breaks out with a manichean hatred of the flesh, or in ascetic mortifications,
now a few who regard these extremes as superstitious,
nay, who would repudiate the very tendency to which I
now allude, still seem to fancy that it is peculiarly religious to contemn our animal nature, to paint this mortal
scene in hues of gloom and vanity, and to contemplate
death with ardent desire and with rapturous welcome.
This sentiment unconsciously influences their religious
feelings, and colors their religious views. But this sentiment, it seems to me, indicates confused spiritual perceptions, and positively injures spiritual interests. We
not only give an undue exaltation to the appetites when
we yield them a blind service, but when we concentrate
upon them a microscopic surveillance. It is a grave
idea of heaven to conceive it as one set of external circumstances, which we attain by escaping from another
set here below. It is a crude religiousness which seeks
to glorify the future life by depreciating.this, or that villifies the body in order to exalt the soul. It is a great
mistake to confound exstatic feelings, and super-mundane
moods, with essential righteousness. And, after all, the
man who realizes the supremacy of spiritual things, is
he who perceives the value of material things, and who,




94      GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD.
by a comprehensive vision and a fresh experience, knows
their mutual offices, and the clear line of demarcation
between the two. The body is not essentially vile: it
is marred by our passions, and, having broken down the
fences of the soul, we yield to evil suggestions which
steal in through its agency. But it is the intricate and
beautiful workmanship of God, the consummate evidence
of His skill, and the instrument of countless blessings.
The earth though often called "a den of wickedness,"
and "a vale of tears," is not wholly so. It is a world
which the Creator has adorned with loveliness and filled
with wonder. If we will, it may prove to us a porch.of
knowledge, a temple of devotion, and a noble theatre of
duty. Life is to be cherished as a sacred thing; health
is to be cared for as a precious gift; in short, the means
of temporal welfare are to be sought and preserved as
a religious duty-for, in our holiest moods, in our prayers, we are instructed to say-" Give us this day our
daily bread."
But, while it may be necessary to say thus much
against an unconscious asceticism, it is,- undoubtedly,
far more necessary to state the proposition I am now
discussing in its application to a tendency exactly the
opposite of this —the tendency to absorption in the
earthly life, and in material interests. This is a result
far more widelv-extended than the other, and, therefore,




GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD.         95
in opposition to this, I repeat-that earthly interests and
animal wants, have an appropriate place in this prayer
— an appropriate place among our highest and most
serious thoughts. Appropriate, my friends, because they
hold a secondary place. The text is the only petition
in the Lord's Prayer in which the desire for temporal
good is directly expressed. The rest is for the coming
of God's Kingdom, and the doing of His Will; for forgiveness of sin, and for deliverance from temptation.
And this small space allotted to earthly aspirations is
appropriate, because thus is expressed the comparative
value of material and spiritual interests. And yet, is
this the practical estimate which men generally set upon
the two?  Is it this that is expressed in the diligence
and solicitude of this busy hive-the world?
But, not to dwell upon the daily pursuits and the ordinary desires of -the many-how is it even with their
prayers? Is not the main current of their petitions a
desire for earthly good? Are not their profoundest regrets stirred by material losses and evils? Are not
their thanksgiving chiefly inspired by sensual ease and
plenty? This thanksgiving, this regret, this petition, is
all well enough, if it only occupies its appropriate place
-if its intensity is duly qualified.  But if spiritual
needs, losses, blessings are forgotten, or faintly mentioned, surely our devotions are not after the model of the




D       r6 GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD.
Lord's Prayer. And surely, my friends, we thus betray
our deepest wishes and our highest ideals. We show
how sensual is our notion of good, and our view of life.
And how many are there here to-night, whose wishes
and conceptions are thus characterized? —who, if they
should wring out the most subtile aspiration of their
hearts, if they should embody the fondest ideal that
brightens over them, if they should delineate the image
that hope and desire paint upon their future, would show
us a representation of mere earthly good; health, ease,
plenty, friends, fame, pleasure; with a nebulous ring of
moral conception encircling all, and a vague notion of
heaven sparkling afar off! How do such regards, I say,
animate the profoundest prayers of the many! This
should not be so, 0 man! This should not be your relative estimate of spiritual and material things. I have
shown that these material interests have their value, and
their office, and a place in our religion; but let them not
have the supreme place, because, comparatively, they
are brief and shallow, while spiritual interests are deep
and permanent. That material ideal, even if realized,
cannot satisfy you. That sensual object, even if attained, will be merely touched by you, and then must
slip from  you forever. "The fashion of this world
passeth away," but, quicker even than that vanishing,
your voice among its multitudes will be still, your foot



GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD.       97
steps will be effaced from its bosom, and its vernal greenness will spring from your very ashes. Ask and seek
for your daily bread, then; but remember that it is " the
bread that perisheth," and that "man shall not live by
bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of
the mouth of God."
II. The next fact which I would dwell upon as suggested by the text, is the truth of our intimate dependence upon God. The light in which I would now
urge this truth, is somewhat different from the illustration employed in the last discourse. I spoke then of
the sense of dependence forced upon us by extraordinary
revelations in nature, and by peculiar crises in life. But
is it not too generally the fact that this consciousness of
dependence is awakened only by unusual circumstances?
Is it not too much the case, that we recognise God only
in the whirlwind and the flame? What I wish to urge
under this head, then, is that we should constantly realize
our dependence upon the Deity-that we should habi.
tually and sincerely acknowledge Him as the source of
all our good. With clear faith and spontaneous emotion, we should own that our most minute and ordinary
blessings, the air, the sunshine, our daily bread, come
from Him. No truth is more trite than this. This,
probably, was one of the first sentences of the Lord's
Prayer that we were able to comprehend. Perhaps the
9




98      GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD.
earliest conception of God that dawned upon our infant
minds, was that of the " Great Giver," who bestows our
shelter, our raiment, our food; and, impressed by this
idea, we have knelt down, and, with our little, childish voices, prayed —" Give us this day our daily bread."
But it is to be feared that we do not carry this
simple faith into our maturer years. Ask almost any
man, if he believes in the existence of a God, and he
says —" Yes." Ask him if he believes that God is the
Creator of all things, and nothing will he more readily
affirm. Ask him if he believes that He is the great
Benefactor, and gratefully will he acknowledge it. And
yet, is it not a fact that, with a vast number, this belief
exists merely as a logical conclusion, a traditional creed,
or a fitful confession of the heart, and that, in reality,
they are practical atheists? Do they not, virtually,
consider something else than God as the source of their
blessings? Is He not lost sight of, is He.not put out of
view-as the Maker who has left the machine, as the'Creator who is hidden by His works?  Nay, plenty
itself, the most profuse evidence of God, is often that
which most shuts us in from Him. In the blasted harvest and the unfruitful year, perhaps, we fall upon our
knees, and think of His agency who retains the shower
and veils the sun. But when the wheels of nature roll
on their accustomed course, when our fields are covered




GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD.        99
with sheaves and our garners groan with abundance, we
may lift a transient offering of gratitude; yet, in the
continuous flow of prosperity, are we not apt to refer
largely to our own enterprise, and bless our "luck?"
Do we not virtually do this, rather than realize that the
Almighty hand has touched all these issues, and that
without His constant action there would be nothing?
In other words, does GOD meet us in all these results?
Do we regard them as fresh creations of His power and
goodness? Do we entertain a vivid sense of an actual
and immediate Providence? I repeat, we are apt to
regard merely secondary causes, to glorify our own power and skill, and, in the customary flow of success, to
feel but faintly our constant dependence upon the great
Giver.
Perhaps science nourishes this error. Revealing to
us the constant operation of material laws, it begets a
tendency to deify those laws, to transmute them  from
theoretical equivalents into absolute realities, to conceive
them as rigid statutes rather than flexible expressions of
the Infinite will. It is hard for us to believe that God
instantly creates; we expect the production gradually,
through some process. Yet, what is that process but a
creation at each point, inspired by His moving spirit and
seized by His intention?  Is the living power of God
absent from the ascending vapor and the bursting seed?




100     GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD.
Does not the up-gathering of the one, the unfolding of
the other, indicate His instant presence and the steady
pressure of His hand, as much as the finished flower,
or the planet? If, then, we erect these natural laws
into rigid forms that intercept God's contact with His
works, if we consider them as God, practically, we are
atheists. And we are perplexed by all the vagueness and
inconsistency of atheism; for we do not account for
these laws themselves-we do not define them. If we
did, we should see that they are but established ways of
God's working, the unseen arteries of His will; the
fluent methods of His Beneficence and His Power;
and that our daily bread, every grain of wheat, whatever its secondary dependencies and introductory processes, is direct from Him.
And yet, there is a repugnance to admit the doctrine
of an instant Providence, not only from a false reverence for natural laws, but because such a notion, as
some think, seems unworthy of the Deity. That He
should create a universe, that He should control the
general concerns of being, appears in some degree fitted
to His Majesty. But that He should touch with His
own hand our daily supplies, and dispose the essentials
of our individual lot, seems too minute for Him. I cannot share this feeling. If my admiration is kindled by
contemplating the scale of God's operation, the vastness




GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD.    101
and splendor of His works, surely my reverence is increased, my love is heightened, when I notice, also, the
extent to which that creation descends, the small details
which it involves, the delicacy as well as the magnitude
of His Government.  To borrow  the illustration of
Chalmers, I lift the telescope, and my wonder is inflamed
when it sweeps the glittering fields of space, and multiplies the starry legions of the firmament. But when I
take up the microscope, and discover the myriad-fold
existence that is hidden from the naked eye, the swarming joy that populates a drop, and find the atom endowed
with eyes to see, and nerves to feel, and surrounded by
its universe of glory too, my wonder deepens to worship, and the conception of an infinite God more clearly
breaks upon me. To realize, then, that He whom  the
angels cannot fully know, mingles His Presence with
our common walks, and hears and answers the widow's
cry for bread, seems to me the most appropriate faith
for a truly devout soul.
But, whatever may be the hindrance to our conception of an ever-present and ever-acting Deity, and to a
vivid sense of our continual dependence upon Him, it
may all be comprehended in this one word —custom.
We are startled into a belief in His Providence by extraordinary.events, but it is hidden from us by usual
circumstances. Our keen sense of Him is muffled by




102    GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD.
familiarity,.In the flow of material things we drift away
from the thought of Him. The obedient operation of
our own faculties, unhinges our faith in the infinite
Power. The intrusiveness of man's works, shuts out
the evidence of God's works. The pomp of scientific
demonstration cheats us. But, if we would abandon
the populous city, the book and the crucible, the implements of labor and the garden of plenty, and go out
into the wilderness, and, in child-like renunciation of
our theories, contemplate some flower that blooms there
all alone; think how it came, what ordained it, and what
secret life courses its tiny veins; ask how it sprung
from the unconscious sod; think of the mystery that
lies at its root, and breathes in its fragrant life —
we may waken to some conception of the mystery
that is also in and around us-of not only the final
but the immediate dependence of all things upon a
higher and all-controlling Power. Nay, if, not waiting
for sickness, or disappointment, or death, in the silence
of meditation we will consider our real dependence;
will ask how and by what we live; who holds the links
of our being and fills the channel of our blessings;
we may feel these sensual scales dropping from our
eyes, we may wake from this -dead custom, we may
be converted from this practical atheism, and inspire
with a meaning we have never realized before, the




GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD.    103
familiar words of our prayer-" Give us this day our
daily bread!"
III. In asking for our daily bread, we virtually ask
for ability and opportunity to obtain it. Nor is this
inconsistent with the truth upon which I have just been
dwelling. For, of course, in saying that we are dependent upon God for our daily bread, I have not intended
to say that it is to be acquired without the use of means.
I have onily urged the fact that God is in the means.
And, therefore, I observe now, that, in this prayer, we
ask God for the means, for those faculties and agencies
by which our food, and all temporal necessaries are to be
secured. No sane man will be apt to run into the extreme of fatalism in regard to these interests. As to
his spiritual welfare, he may sink into an apathetic
and presumptuous reliance upon the work of the
Deity, and may make no effort for righteousness because
he expects all the movement to come from on high.
Nevertheless, he sees clearly that food, raiment, animal
comforts, cannot be possessed without diligent exertion.
But the error to which I now refer, consists in the
fact that we do not go beyond the means; that we do
not sufficiently consider our dependence upon God for
this strength of ours, this ability and wisdom by which
we accomplish and attain. Of course, when we pray
-" Give us this day our daily bread," we do not mean




104     GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD.
-" Let it drop, like manna, from heaven —let it come to
us by some new process."  But, devoutly recognizing
the Providence that is in every law of nature, and that
really gives us these needed blessings, the essential meaning of our petition is —" Give us health, and skill, and
opportunity." Devoutly acknowledging the beneficence
that bursts out in the harvest, do we sufficiently recognize the wonder of the hand that sowed the seed, and
the thought that planned the method? Is not this bodily
organism molded as it is with such symmetry, woven
with such manifold textures, strung with a thousand
chords, a more essential gift than any material work it
accomplishes? Is not reason a more exhaustless capacity than the hammer, the printing-press, or the steamengine?  Do we feel our dependence upon God for our
daily bread, then, and not for the life that animates the
industrious arm, and for the thought that underlies all
human achievement? When we breathe this prayer, it
is not immediately for temporal necessaries that we ask,
so much as for the instruments by which these are to be
acquired; thankfully owning our intimate dependence
for these upon the source of all power and all thought.
And this leads us to consider the blessedness of these
means. My friends, let us appreciate the ordinance by
which it is necessary to use the means before we can
obtain our daily bread, or any temporal good. Consider



GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD.    105
ing the benefit of strenuous thought and diligent exertion, should we not be thankful that bread does not come
spontaneously to our hands? In one word, is not Labor
a wise and glorious ordinance of Providence, an ordinance to be remembered in our prayers and our thanksgivings? To be sure, we can imagine a world in which
there is no work. A world bathed in incessant summer,
whose seed-times and harvests are ever mingling, whose
springing influences perpetually ascend, whose fruitage
perpetually ripens, through all the procession of its golden
year. A world in which man would never feel the sting
of want, and where the felicities of being would unfold
without his effort. But we cannot conceive any such
world, connected with human peculiarities and necessities, one half, one tithe so glorious as our old world of
struggle and of labor. For, wherever God has admitted man's agency, the noblest results, the achievements
of real worth and splendor, are the fruits of patient and
sinewy toil. They have come from  the suggestions
of want and the problems of difficulty; they have been
won in wrestling with the elements; they have been torn
from the womb of nature. Labor, with its coarse raiment and its bare right arm, has gone forth in the earth
achieving the truest conquests, and rearing the most
durable monuments. It has opened the domain of matter, and the empire of mind. The wild beast has fled




106     GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD.
before it, and the wilderness has fallen back.  Tile rock
at its touch has grown plastic, and the stream.obsequious.
It has tilled the soil, and planted cities. Discovery accompanies it with its compass and telescope. Invention
proclaims it with its Press, and heralds it through theearth with its flaming chariot. It is enriched with " the
wealth of nations." It is crowned with the trophies of
intellect. Its music rises in the shout of the mariner,
the song of the husbandman, the hum of multitudes. It
rings in the din of hammers and the roar of wheels. Its
triumphal march is the progress of civilization.  There
are lands of luxurious climate and almost spontaneous
production; yet who looks there for freedom and virtue,
for the bravest hearts and the noblest souls?  But the
elements of liberty, the glories of intelligence, the sanetities of home, and the institutions of religion, abide in
sterner soil and beneath colder skies-where the fisherman feels his way through the mist that wraps the iron
sea-coast, and the reaper snatches his harvest from the
skirts of winter. And wh6 would not pray —"Give
us the manly nerve, the strenuous will, and the busy
thought, rather than golden placers and diamond mines?"
And, instead of a realm  sick with spontaneous plenty
and desolate with riches, who would not prefer the granite fields that grudge their latent bounty, since they induce not only the exertions but the blessings of toil?




GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD.    107
In asking for our daily bread, then, let us consider
that, essentially, we ask for the means of obtaining it,
and let us remember also the blessing involved in the
very effort for acquisition.
IV. As we ask God for our daily bread, the answer
to our prayer should remind us not only of our dependence upon Him, but of the relative dependence of others upon us. My friends; have we, after all, ever
known what it is to lack bread? Have we ever lifted
this cry in the bitterness of intense hunger, and in absolute want? While we have thus prayed, have we not
always been surrounded with plenty, and a plenty which
sometimes induces forgetfulness of God? But if this
usual abundance were removed from us, perhaps, we
should discover that then, for the first time, we had prayed, in sincerity, "Give us this day our daily bread."
And yet, this piercing cry does go up from wasted
fields and famine-smitten nations, from the lanes and
cellars of cities, from homes of destitution all around us.
Nor does this prayer issue merely from the lips of those
who would have their daily bread without exertion, without using the means. A more sad and fearful utterance is
the cry —" Give us work, that we may earn and eat and
live."
Now we cannot use this prayer with any consistency,
if these wants are unheeded by us, or if we merely




108    IGIVE US THIIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD.
touch them with a cold and stingy charity. The call
which we make upon our heavenly Father, rebukes the
central sin of selfishness, the spring of all other sins.
The words —" Give us," forbid all narrow interest, all
personal limitation. We are not sincere in its utterance,
unless our sympathy is as responsive to others, as we would
have God's help to us. We do not comprehend the obligations involved in our constant dependence upon God,
unless we earnestly consider the problems of society,
and act upon the idea of human-brotherhood.
V. Finally, for a practical purpose, I direct your
attention to the proper translation of the language of
the text. Its precise meaning has been differently interpreted, but it appears that the most respectable authorities render the words "daily bread,"-" Bread for subsistence,"*  "Give us bread for subsistence."  Using
the term "bread,"-as I have throughout this discourse
-as an equivalent for all temporal provisions, I draw
from this translation of these words the inference that
we should be careful as to what ends we apply our earthly blessings, and for what purposes we desire them.
"Bread for subsistence," necessary temporal good that
is; not provisions for luxury, ostentation, or pride. Now,
it is not to be supposed that a precise limit is set in this
case —that no end is to be sought in desiring material
*See Maurice on the Lord's Prayer, p. 69.




GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD.    109
good except a bare support. Wealth has its ministry.
Elegance and refinement have their ministries. There
would be no reservoirs of public bounty, no exhibitions
of noble charity, were not suber-abundant means accumulated by some. There would be no great improvements, no large enterprises without this. The capital
of a country is more to it than material riches-than so
much gold and silver. It is the spring of a mighty power, it may minister to the best ends, it contains incalculable possibilities. In a rich country, we find the finest
culture, the most ample elements of civilization. So, a
rich man may not only gratify his own tastes, but help
and improve all with whom he connects himself. In
short, I would not deny that there are many arguments
for wealth and refinement. And yet I maintain that the
language of the text does not warrant us in asking for
anything merely to gratify pride, or love of power, or:
love of ease. All that we are to ask for, in this, is simply needed material good.  Let the great Disposer
bestow wealth and its benefits as He will. If besides
our daily bread these come to us, then how much greater
our responsibilities!
But are there not many who, if they should confine
their petition to this interpretation, would find their
worldly desires much narrowed from their present scope?
Tell me, what animates the eager toil of thousands?
10




110     GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD.
What is the prayer expressed by their action?  Is it
not, evidently, a prayer for the means not merely of
subsistence and comfort, not merely for refinement and
benevolence, but for sensual gratification, display, and
power? Is not hunger after pleasure, the epicurean
lust of luxury, the vanity of ostentation, the rivaly of
fashion, often, at the heart of it?  Nay, is not the love
of earthly good for itself alone, the fire that burns in
the souls of many?  Is not this the reason why the
seeker for wealth is never satisfied?  Why always he
plunges among the cares of business, and never retires
to rest, to think, to pray? Or if he does pray, is there
any consistency between.his prayer —" Give us this day
bread for subsistence," and his thirsty seeking?
While, then, we leave to God the amount of our
earthly good, surely this prayer sincerely uttered can
express no inordinate sensual desire; but a wise supplication and a trustful content. Says the apostle —" Ye
ask, and receive not, because ye ask amiss, that ye may
consume it upon your lusts." Is not this the spirit in
which too many breathe even the simple prayer-" Give
us this day our daily bread?"
Thus have I endeavored to exhibit the significance of
the text, the manner in which we can consistently utter
it, and the practical inferences that may be drawn from
it. I close with two or three general remarks.




GIVE US THIIS -DAY OUR DAILY BREAD.     1  
Consider, then, I beseech you, the force of this word
daily. Is not the petition of the text one that should be
daily lifted up? Are not our wants always new?  Are
not His mercies fresh, every morning and evening?
Again, let the language of the text suggest that deeper
want to which I have alluded; that spiritual need, and
that bread that cometh down from heaven.
And let me close the consideration of the text, by
again referring to the beautiful lesson of Providence
which it teaches. Let our hearts be impressed with the
thought that He whom we ask for our daily bread, is
always round about us, noticing our wants, refreshing
all the springs of bounty, and holding all the issues of
being; for it is a joyful and a sanctifying thought.
Especially is this truth suggested by the present season.* Standing upon the threshold of Spring, we witness, as it were, the developments of a new creation.
An unseen Hand has rolled the earth through the zodiac,
and prepared it for fresh an'd abundant life. The dark
ground gives now but little promise; yet we know that,
already, a marvellous process stirs in its alembics, and
its veins thrill with secret inspiration. A method which
we cannot comprehend, will, in due time, clothe it with
vernal loveliness, and with summer wealth. Touched
anew by the conviction of a Power working far outside
* This discourse was preached March 4th.




112     GIVE US TIIIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD.
the circle of our own agency-a power which furnishes
every morsel of our daily bread-we also detect, in the
mechanism of things about us, the mystic intercourse of
human endeavor and infinite help.  In the unfolding
energies of spring-time, we read not only a call to pray,
but a summons to labor.
So let us believe in this Providence, working for us
and co-operating with us, in all the mazy discipline of
our lot. Let it be a cheerful thought for us in hours of
sadness. Let us lean upon it in our weakness and dismay. Let us filially seek the succor it proffers and love
the communion it opens. Let it fortify us with faith.
Let it animate us to duty. Let us cherish it with devout humility and calm reliance. Content, obedient, let
us both wait and act in the midst of this Divine hospitality, these rich incentives, and that sheltering care.




DISCOURSE VI.
" And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors."-Matthew vi. 12.
THE petition which we considered in the last discource, issues from the depths of our mortality, and betrays our relationship to all the forms of earthly being.
For, more or less, articulately, that desire —" Give us this
day our daily bread," goes up from every material thing.
It rises from the dwellings of men, and the den of the wild
beast; from the bird that beats the trackless air, and
from the herb that waits for the summer rain. All nature
looks up for its food, and we, I repeat, as members of
the great whole, thus express our share in the-common
want.
But the petition at which we have now arrived, springs
from a depth profounder than any animal necessity. It
bespeaks a hunger and thirst which no material good can
satisfy. It shows that the roots of man's being pierce
below the mold of sense, and are involved with the mysteries of the eternal world.  The cry-" Forgive us our
debts, as we forgive our debtors," bursts from a moral




114 FORGIVE OUR DEBTS AS WE FORGIVE. OUR DEBTORS.
being; from a being who is a Child as well as a creature
of God-from a being of free-will, of spiritual experience,
and immortal destiny.
The text expresses both a desire, and its qualification
-" Forgive us our debts" on the one hand; "as we forgive our debtors," on the other. Of itself, then, it is separated into two general divisions, under which I shall
arrange the remarks I have to make at this time.
I. I observe, then, that the words which compose the
first branch of the text, express a consciousness of sin.
Whether we employ the term "debts," or " trespasses,"
we mean essentially the same thing. They are used interchangeably by Jesus. Either conveys the idea of
guilt both in conduct and in obligation; by omission and
commission. And whatever may be the direction
of that guilt, whether manifested against ourselves
and styled vice, or against our fellow-men and called
crime, or especially against God and termed sin —i
is all in reality, sin, for its spirit is resisted by His sanctions, and to Him we must look for absolute pardon.
He is indissolubly mingled with the ideas of Right and
Wrong, and no self-discipline, or restitution, will suffice
unless we are reconciled to Him.
First of all, then, I say, it is a consciousness of sin,
which breathes through these words. This is the conviction which has seized upon our souls, if the prayer




FORGIVE OUR DEBTS AS WE FORGIVE OUR DEBTORS. 115
is a sincere one. Otherwise, it is only form and
mockery.  Let me, therefore, speak more at large
of this sentiment.
The ideas of Right and Wrong, are as universal as
the race. God's unwritten law is known in regions
where His written requirements have never penetrated.
Conscience maintains its oracle in every human soul.
Witnesses to this fact break out under the thickest ignorance, the most degrading sensualism, the most hideous
idolatries, as well as in the confessions of the most sainted minds. Athwart all the lines of custom, beneath all
forms of civilization and religion, broods an uneasy feeling of guilt, alienation, unworthiness, which whether
expressed in sighs or ceremonials, whether it quivers in
sacrificial flames, or murmurs —"God be merciful unto
me i" is, essentially, the same thing. Flashing out from
the personal centre of each, it reveals a yet profounder
centre-the centre of a common consciousness, throbbing with a sense of sin; the axis of man's moral world,
as it were, declined from its true poise and level. And
this universal consciousness, more than any physical resemblance, proves the identical nature and origin of mankind. It matters but little what diversities philosophers
may detect with callipers and dissecting-knife, in configuration or in color, so long as we discover the unbroken
unity of this great moral deep heaving in every breast.




116 FORGIVE OUR DEBTS AS WE FORGIVE OUR DEBTORS.
But consider also the power of this consciousness. It
is true it may brood vaguely in the soul. But when it is
aroused there is no element within us so mighty. There
is no voice so persistent as the voice of offended conscience. There is no burden so heavy as the burden of
guilt. When once a man really feels that he has done
a great wrong, so long as it is unconfessed and unrepent,
ed of he cannot get rid of the feeling. The conviction
sticks in him like an arrow. Nothing clings so closely
to him. " When I kept silence," says the Psalmist, " my
bones waxed old through my roaring." The man in
whom the consciousness of guilt is awake, may journey
through many lands, but he can no more travel away
from the thorny fact than from himself. He may precipitate his whole nature in external activity, and forget this
abiding tenant for a time; it may be silenced for a
little while by the jar of the world. But when he goes
into the chambers of his being the old reality is there,
and fresh yet. Though it may not unhinge his outward
life, or color its facts, worse than the shirt of Nessus that
pierced only to the marrow, this is an issue of inward
torment, that burns along the arteries of memory and of
thought. I might specify, and show, for instance, how
a perjured spirit continually feels its false oath hurled
back upon it from heaven; how fraud spoils the taste of
luxury, and makes ill-gotten wealth a cankering chain,




FORGIVE OUR DEBTS AS WE FORGIVE OUR DEBTORS. ]17
how murder always hears its brother's blood crying from
the ground, making the crowd more solitary than a
wilderness, and the desert more populous than a city,
while, sometimes that pale face hangs in the sunniest
prospects by day, and that awful memory breeds a fountain of stark and ghastly dreams by night. I might show
how these men, all unwhipped of human justice as they
may be, in the heavy consciousness of sin, hear thunders
more deep than the sentence of its judgment-seat, and
are girt with a burning cincture more terrible than its
punishment. Or admit-what in a more protracted discussion I would not admit-that there really can be such
a thing as a conscience worn out, or slain; suppose as
apparently is often the case, that such a man lives without trouble for his wicked deeds, heedless and happy.
After all, his joy is a sickly fancy, not the spontaneous
ease of spiritual health. His carelessness is a strenuous
carelessness. Even if his conscience be dead as a stone
-it is as heavy too. In such a case, we may believe,
that there would be a consciousness of being unconscious
-a sense of life in death.
But, while I have thus endeavored to illustrate the
power there is in a keen consciousness of guilt, and
while, as a universal feeling, this consciousness must in
some degree exist in us, how comes it, as is often the
case, that it is not distinct and strong? Do we say




1 ] 8 FORGIVE OUR DEBTS AS WE FORGIVE OUR DEBTORS.
"because we are not thus grossly guilty?"  Do we
slumber upon the fact of ordinary good conduct, of
respectable conformity, and negative innocence. If this
is our feeling, we can never earnestly breathe the words
-" Forgive us our debts." Perhaps a slight sense of
general unworthiness may animate this petition, when
we employ it at all; or it may burst from our lips upon
the fresh consciousness of some wrong overt act; and
yet we do not feel the vitality of the sentiment expressed in the prayer. Let us remember that an undisturbed
conscience is no proof of innocence. This may result
from spiritual indolence and carelessness; from lack of
self-examination. A man may do wrong every day, and
yet feel no compunction for that wrong, not because he
has no means of knowing better, but because he never
uses those means. He never looks into his own soul.
He never compares it with the standard which he knows
he ought to consult. He never holds it up to the mirror
of truth, nor concentrates upon it the focal light of God's
requirements. He lives to-day as he did yesterday, he
will live in the same way to-morrow; pursuing one beaten round of habit, and, perhaps, never thinking of conscience except in some hasty snatch of thought, or when
he stumbles into some transgression palpable to the most
secular eyes. His conscience is undisturbed, simply because he has never disturbed it. He has this vague




FORGIVE OUR DEBTS AS WE FORGIVE OUR DEBTORS. 119
sense of moral unworthiness, as I have said, but he has
never gone down into its depths, he has never cleft it
open and let God's light in upon it, in order that he
might know the degree of his unworthiness. It is surprising how much habit has to do with what is called " a
quiet conscience." We can realize this sometimes,
when, passing from one set of customs to another —from
one circle where a morality equally conventional, yet
higher in degree exists, to another where a yet lower
ideal prevails. We see men whose disposition is as excellent, whose love of morality in the abstract is as
quick and reverent as our own, yet who do and say
things, as matters of course, that strike us with wonder
and horror.  This is simply the effect of custom.  The.conscience of these men is encrusted by habit.
Men are content too, to live as well as their
neighbors, to conform to the conventional pattern of
respectability, to limit their aspirations to the code of
generally recognized virtues. Therefore, morality, goodness, religion, instead of being an absolute sanction, an
exhaustless life, an infinite attainment, becomes a
fashion. Each country has one of its own, and its
well-meaning citizens would not like to fall below it, and
do not strive much to going beyond it. If one does fall
below it, he sinks into social disrepute. If he does run
beyond it, he risks being called a fanatic.




120 FORGIVE OUR DEBTS AS WE FORGIVE OUR DEBTORS.
There is a morality of trade, and, if one conforms to
that, he and his conscience agree very well. He eats
heartily and sleeps peacefully, without thought of bringing his conscience into the light of prayerful introspection, and of comparing it with the christian code. Or,
if this thought has sometimes occurred to him, he has
put by its suggestion as something disagreeable and impracticable, and relapsed into the consolatory maxim,
that he is as good as his neighbors. There is a morality
of politics-a very plastic morality it is too-yet respectable men, without any qualms of conscience, will
adopt it in an election campaign, while they would not
employ it in the ordinary routine of life; and they actually seem to think that there is a sense in which the
policy of party may over-ride the ordinances of God.
There is a morality of social life, very bland and courteous, nay, sometimes exceedingly virtuous; and yet
though it often lacks heart, and is decorated with a lie,
those who maintain it make no complaints of conscience.
Thus, we perceive that an unconsciousness of sin
may ensue from a lack of personal examination; from
a monotonous and conventional ideal, beyond whose
limits men do not look or aspire. Nay, it must be confessd that systems of theology may sometimes induce
this comparative unconsciousness. While in one set of
tenets God and man have been presented in a manner




FORGIVE OUR DEBTS AS WE FORGIVE OUR DEBTORS. 121
altogether too stern and gloomy, it may be the tendency
of another class to put too much out of sight the evil of
sin, so that, even in our devotions, while we are thankful and prayerful, we but too little feel the malignity of
guilt and the keenness of remorse, and we may be unconscious that this guilt is magnified by the very light
in which we regard the character of God. Thus absorbed in contemplation of what the Deity will do, we
may lose sight of what we ought to do; we may not
sufficiently explore our own hearts and contrast our inner life with the ideal presented by Christ.
But, whatever may be the cause of our unconsciousness of sin, the main point is that that unconsciousness
is no evidence of the absence of sin. If a man will
solicitously ask himself how he lives —from what motives
and to what ends —if he compares himself as he is with
what he knows he should be; if he will do this humblv
and prayerfully, he will find ample need for the petition
now before us. Nay, he may find that his very unconsciousness of sin is itself a great sin, a sign of moral
apathy that should not exist amid the sanctions and
claims that press upon him. He may find that he has
as much cause, or more, for a pungent sense of guilt,
as even the perjured or fraudulent man to whom I alluded; and he may detect a keen personal application in
the words of our Savior —" Those eighteen upon whom
11




122 FORGIVE OUR DEBTS AS WE FORGIVE OUR DEBTORS.
the tower in Siloam fell, and slew them, think ye that
they were sinners above all men that dwelt in Jerusalem?"
Let any one seriously examine himself, let him consider candidly his sins of thought, word, and deed, nay,
let him count up the number of these even in the course
of a single day, and, surely, a strong consciousness of
evil will spring up fresh within him. But let us not confine ourselves to positive faults. Let us not merely consider our trespasses-our sins of commission; but our
debts, our sins of omission; and this consciousness will
become more stringent. First of all, let us consider our
great obligations to God, consider what He is, consider
His goodness towards us and how we have. repaid itthe legion of temporal mercies that encompass us, the
spiritual blessings culminating in the cross of Christ;
our un-performed duties, our unimproved opportunities,
the capacities of a single day compared with the use
which we have made of it; let us, after all this, unlock
our own hearts, enter into their subtle windings, and
challenge the motives that lurk in their secret chambers,
and this prayer would burst from our lips as never before.
Let us, in the next place, endeavor to discover the
meaning of this petitionm-"Forgive us our debts."  Uttered as it is, or should be, with a vivid consciousness,
what do we desire and expect to be done for us? I an



FORGIVE OUR DEBTS AS WE FORGIVE OUR DEBTORS. 123
swer, that our essential wish, mingled with poignant
regret, is to be reconciled to God-to feel that He has,
as it were, forgotten our transgressions, and turns upon
us the light of His countenance. The belief that our
sins are forgiven causes us to possess a full sense of
rest; the troubled mind grows calm, its tormenting suggestions sink as the waves sunk when Christ said, " Peace
be still." This is the subjective method of forgiveness,
vaguely expressed, as all spiritual experiences must be;
this is our own feeling as to pardon-and I do not know
that it is necessary for our philosophy to penetrate further. It does not alter the substantial result to know
precisely what is meant by the forgiveness of sin;
whether it simply implies reconciliation, or whether the
punishment of sin is remitted also. Whether, although
there is the peace of repentance there must still ensue
the intrinsic retribution of the guilty act. The original
word, which is here translated "forgive," may be rendered "remit," "send away," and the main idea of the
petition seems to be-"remove this heavy incumbrance
of guilt, this painful indebtedness of evil."  Even if,
after this the natural consequence of sin ensues, is it
not an evidence of God's goodness, of His fixed and
wise discipline?
But, in speaking of punishment, let us distinguish between its intrinsic sting and its more external peculiar



124 FORGIVE OUR DEBTS AS WE FORGIVE OUR DEBTORS.
ities.  Let us not reduce it to the equivalent of a mere
physical law, which cannot be suspended. The intrinsic evil of all sin is moral, and its profoundest retribution is moral also. The sense of alienation, the spiritual deadness, the remorse, the inner wo, these are as
judicial sentences, and penal fires. And when that guilt
is removed, when that alienation gives place to reconciliation, when that spiritual deadness is exchanged for
newness of life, when that remorse turns to gratitude and
that inner wo to peace, is not the retribution dismissed
with the sin in which it was involved? Is not the punishment inevitably forgiven with the guilt? Consider,
too, how much suffering there is in repentance itself;
how much agony, bitterness, and shame. Is not this a
part of retribution? We may believe then that the vital
element of retribution is dismissed with the sin; and, indeed, when we have got so far as heartily to cry-" Forgive us our debts," retribution has accomplished at least
one of its great purposes. Again, I say, that this sense
of pardon and retribution appears to be the practical
one, whatever our philosophy may determine. It is
enough for the truly penitent soul; it was enough for
weeping Mary, and denying Peter; it is enough for any
who come and sincerely cry-"Forgive us our debts."
But, once more, I observe that the best evidence of
our sincerity in this prayer, will be our corresponding




FORGIVE OUR DEBTS AS WE FORGIVE OUR DEBTORS. 125
conduct. It affords a peculiar illustration of the fact
that true prayer blends desire with action. Certainly
we do not truly repent of the sin which we easily resume, and habitually cherish. It is not really forgiven
-remitted, sent away. It was merely repudiated by a
gush of feeling; denounced only by the lips. At least,
the sin we pray against we must struggle against, and
by God's help overcome. Oh! it is solemn mockery to
ask pardon for the sin we love and mean to retain —to
go deliberately and do the very thing we have prayed
we might do no more, or to withhold our hand from
that which we have prayed we might perform. The
evidence that this prayer is sincere, will be seen either
in abstinence or performance, in restitution or in example. He who utters it, will abandon his old habit of
wrong. His lips and his hands will be restrained. His
heart will be guarded, and his thoughts disciplined. Or,
he will run in paths that he has too much neglected; he
will show new love, new zeal, new forms of action.
Nay, there will be no more striking evidence of his sincerity, than the fact that the power with which he has
committed trespasses, will be poured into new channels
for discharging obligations. Or the wrong that such an
one has done to a fellow-man, will be repaired if possible. And yet how many evils are there, even in regard
to our fellow-men, that cannot be repaired.  What




126 FORGIVE OUR DEBTS AS WE FORGIVE OUR DEBTORS.
grievous injury have we often committed, for instance,
in our examplie. Not only have we furnished them with
no incentive to truth and goodness by our walk and
conversation, but perhaps our influence has been exerted
upon them for positively bad ends; even though we
may not have intended that influence. And there can
hardly be a keener subject of remorse than this fact,
when we call it up in retrospect. For this injury we
can make no restitution except by lives of virtue and
religion in the future.
In these, or in other forms, then, we shall show the
sincerity of our prayer. I shall not be understood to
say, in any sense, that we can repay God for the wrong
we have done. Notwithstanding all we may do for ourselves and others, our indebtedness to Him remains. But
I have merely urged the fact that corresponding action
is a necessary adjunct to our verbal petition. That
without it there is no true desire, no real forgiveness,
however earnestly we may  say-" Forgive us our
debts."
II. The last remark naturally introduces us to the
second division,of the text —" As we forgive our debtors."
Here is suggested at once a general course of action,
without which the prayer-" Forgive us our debts," is
nugatory. There is a qualification, or condition to our
desire, without which that desire has no efficacy or re



FORGIVE OUR DEBTS AS WE FORGIVE OUR DEBTORS. 127
ality. It is a condition upon which our Savior emphatically insists. He returns to it immediately after the
close of the prayer, and says-" For if ye forgive men
their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive
you: but, if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither
will your heavenly Father forgive your trespasses."
Again, in Mark, he says-" When ye stand praying,
forgive, if ye have ought against any: that your Father
which is in heaven may forgive you your trespasses.
But if ye do not forgive, neither will your Father which
is in heaven forgive your trespasses." And most strikingly has he illustrated the same doctrine in the parable
of the two Debtors.
Now that there are some limitations to these, as to all
general statements, will not be denied. We do not suppose that the forgiveness of others is the sole condition
of onr pardon, whether we perform other duties or not.
Nor need we understand it as forbidding us to claim our
just dues, nor even as condemning the infliction of punishment, for, as we have seen, the spirit of forgiveness
may co-exist with the exercise of punishment. We cannot suppose that the doctrine of the text means anything
that would really impair the moral law, or unhinge
society; but it is certain that this requirement to forgive
others, is no light requirement-no secondary principle.
It must not be narrowed or weakened; it must not be




128 FORGIVE OUR DEBTS AS WE FORGIVE OUR DEBTORS.
thrust aside for an ordinary exception; it must not be
sophistically explained away by our interest, or our passion; it must not be neglected as an impracticable abstraction. It is a vital condition that Christ thus imposes upon us, and, ere we give it utterance, ere we
weld it into our burning desire for pardon before the
mercy-seat, it will be well for us to consider its meaning,
and the heed we give to it.
One fact seems clear-that if we consistently utter the
words in the text, we cannot harbor before God a grudge
towards any man.  There is no wound so deep that we
may cherish malice towards him who inflicted it. There
is no quarrel so serious that we can exclude our antagonist from our pardoning sentiment. There is no posture
of affairs between ourselves and another that will justify
our setting him aside as a just exception. If there might
only be that one exception, perhaps we could utter this
conditional petition freely. We could look about us then
and say-" We are at peace with all." But this particular
case must not be brought into the question. "Excuse
that. Do not touch it. It is a sore point. Do not insist against that hardness; surely the condition was never
meant to reach so far as that." And yet, that is the
very thing that balks the whole petition. That is the'
very point which Christ touched so emphatically; and
until that particular obstacle melts away, this prayer



FORGIVE OUR DEBTS AS WE FORGIVE OUR DEBTORS. 129
"Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors," is a
mockery.  "Forgive us our debts, as we forgive those
against whom we entertain no grudge!" Why, what
would be the significance of such a prayer? But for
the very reason that it is a hard point to surrender our
cherished enmity; for the very reason that it costs a
pang and a mighty struggle, to pluck out pride from our
hearts, and to extract our rankling revenge; the condition is so keenly pressed upon us. And yet, when I
think how often this prayer may be breathed while this
reservation is really made; when I think too, how common is the lust of revenge, how hastily it is adopted, how
intimately it becomes entangled with our pride, our prejudice, and our interest; how sad and wide-spread,
often, is its operation; how it breaks up the fellowship
of men, transmutes bosom-friends to foes, divides fami.
lies, and causes persecution, ruin, and murder; how it
lies as a bitter ingredient in so many cups, and bites like
a secret viper in so many hearts; and yet these words
- "Forgive us our debts," such solemn, such profound
words, are so frequently mingled with the qualification
-"as we forgive our debtors, "I cannot ibut wonder at
the formality and insignificance of our devotion. For, I
repeat, these are no light words. This is no unimportant doctrine that shines so among the leaves of the New
Testament. When we lift up our hearts to the all



130 FORGIVE OUR DEBTS AS WE FORGIVE OUR DEBTORS.
all-seeing God, we must embrace in the circle of our
thought, all who have trespassed against us-all who are
morally indebted to us-and as, in our clinging weakness,
our remorse, and our shame, we cry to Him for pardon,
so must we pardon them!
And, of course, that which must thus break as a devout sentiment from our hearts, and direct our hands,
must appear in our conduct. If there is one feeling in
the bosom of man that is full and strong like the oceantide, it is the feeling that promptly rises to revenge an
injury. If there is one memory that burns in the soul
like an everlasting flame, it is the memory of a wrong.
Old grudges are locked in the heart for years, and bequeathed as heir-looms. An insult is repaid with interest. A refusal to accommodate at one time is emphatically compensated by a counter-refusal. Or if we have
been able somewhat to oercome this madness of retaliation; if we refuse to give back wrong for wrong; how
much harder is it to overcome the reluctance to benefit
those who have injured us-to pardon and to bless them?
Or, if we have reached even this degree of Christian
temper, have we not performed the good act remembering that such deeds heap coals of fire upon the heads of
our enemies —and have we not been sadly disappointed
if the coals did not scorch? But not even this degree
of forgiveness is attained by the many. Genera'1y7, the




FORGIVE OUR DEBTS AS WE FORGIVE OUR DEBTORS. 131
irritation is nursed and kept raw; and with what a thrill
of pleasure does the abused clutch the abuser, exclaiming-"It is my turn now!"  And if, in the name of
Christ, we bid that uplifted hand forbear, and that surcharged spirit of revenge distill in pardon, are we not
regarded as fanatical? Are we not told that we are
preaching an impracticable virtue-that we are endeavoring to thwart human nature with abstractions?
Doubtless, such a spirit is contrary to the customary
practices and the darling ideals of men; but we are
learning now of a higher oracle than this world. To
you 0 man! whoever you are, if you are conscious that
you need pardon, that you are weak, tempted, guilty;
if you would cry to the merciful God —"Forgive us
our debts;" to you is proclaimed the inevitable condition-" as we forgive our debtors."  And do you say
that this is an impossible condition?  Nay it has been
lived, and in the same spirit may be lived again. See
-scourged, mocked, spit upon, who, with meek face,
lifts up that bloody brow and breathes a prayer of pardon? Reviled, he reviles not again.  Suffering, he
threatens not. Oppressed, afflicted, "as a lamb brought
to the slaughter, as a sheep before her shearers is dumb,
so he openeth not his mouth." Who is this? He who
bids us forgive as we would be forgiven; and who,
in the judgment-hall, and on the cross, exhibited his




132 FORGIVE OUR DEBTS AS WE FORGIVE OUR DEBTORS.
precepts in action. I know that the standard of the
world is below this, and the heart of man chafes at it,
but if we would render allegiance to his teachings, this
is the spirit that must control us.
And now, perhaps, we can see why Christ laid such
stress upon this particular virtue of Forgiveness. He
urged it thus strongly, because it is a virtue so difficult to
practice, because it costs so much effort and sacrifice. For
before we can truly accomplish it, we must surrender
some of the deepest feelings in our breasts. We must
give up not only hate, but pride and self-will. Our obstinate hearts must be penetrated and melted by the
spirit of Christian Love. After all, as a general thing,,
our spirit of revenge does not long retain its fierce edge,
it is not always a hot and wild passion, but subsides into
a more quiet resentment. Still it is nourished by our
jealousy, by the conceit of dignity, and by the desire for
consistency. We wish to show our enemy and the
world that we are enough for him; that we have persistency and toughness; that we can give back blow for
blow, scorn for insult.  We will not be the first to hang
out a flag of truce, or to make advances! But let him
change his antagonistic abuse and our crested pride will
be apt to droop, our alarmed sensitiveness to subside. I
cannot believe that, commonly, a man's heart is so hard
that he will not pity a fallen enemy, and quench his vin



FORGIVE OUR DEBTS AS WE FORGIVE OUR DEBTORS. 133
dictiveness at the sight of his misfortunes.  When our
old foe stands helpless, what is there for us to oppose
and injure? And when he sleeps his last sleep, when
he lies before us still and nerveless, when we gaze once
for all upon that face which we have remembered to
hate, and think how cold that heart is which hated us,
death looks so rebukingly to us that it melts all our stubbornness and wrings our spirits with regret. We would
not, if we could, follow him with our revenge. We
would not plant it upon the grassy mound, nor intrude it
into the sacred privacy of the grave. Passion, perhaps,
has been spent long ago, but it required something like
this before our pride would yield. But the requirement
is, that before this necessary crisis we should give up
that pride. If the true spirit of the prayer had influenced us at an earlier period, how much bitterness might
have been spared to us, and to him who now lies yonder! With what different feelings might we have cherished his memory!
But not only does the condition in the text require a
difficult, but a profound work on our part, for it demands the renunciation of selfishness. And, after all,
this is the essential evil which it opposes. This is at
the bottom of all our revenge. This keeps green the
roots of our enmity. This is expressed in that hateful
wilfulness which nerves us to maintain our own rights at
19.




134 FORGIVE OUR DEBTS AS WE FORGIVE OUR DEBTORS.
all cost, to press them  to the last limit —even to the
pound of flesh. When we speak of our " debtors," we
refer not merely to our enemies, but to all who by any
chance in life depend upon our mercy, or need our consideration. If we really forgive, then we promise not to
be hard with them, not to insist upon every exaction,
not to claim with unfeeling tenacity all things accidentally due to our.position; but to exercise a self-sacrificing amenity. How deeply, then, - into our customs
and dispositions, does this condition cleave! It calls,
I repeat, for nothing less than the eradication of
selfishness; it implies nothing less than the ingathering
of the full spirit of Christ's Love. We are so situated
in this life that as we are dependent upon others, so
thousands are dependent upon us, indebted to us for our
word or our deed, our mercy and our aid; and we are called
upon to cherish the disposition of that God to whom we
pray. How awful would be the truth, were He nothing
but infinite Self-Will-a self-will using power without
regard to the welfare of His creatures. And how glorious is the fact that He is infinite Love, ever seeking
our benefit! And yet, is not self-will the ruling principle in the world? Is it not the festering plague and the
desolating force, that afflicts and overthrows?  And
when we reflect upon the change that this spirit of forgiveness would induce, do we wonder that Christ urged




FORGIVE OUR DEBTS AS WE FORGIVE OUR DEBTORS. 135
it so impressively? Do we wonder that he made it a
great condition in our pardon? Nay, is it not an essential condition? For, how can we be forgiven unless
we do forgive? How can we have our sin remitted,
sent away, unless hatred, revenge, selfishness the root
of all sin, be removed fiom us? Is not the one by the
inevitable nature of things, the measure of the other?
In various relations of life, then, does the qualification
in the prayer apply to man. It applies to you, oh hardhearted exactor, grinding the faces of the poor; to you
oh unmerciful one, urging your private malignity in the
name of justice; to you, oppressor, peeling the flesh of
men with the iron and the scourge —to all of us, who in
any relation of life, restrain the spirit of christian kindness and forbearance.
My friends, if this petition were sincerely uttered in
christian closets and christian churches, society would
be leavened with a new life, and molded into a far better
shape. Mighty has been the antagonism in the world
between Christ's spirit of mercy and man's spirit of
selishness. Where the one has gone abroad as an iron
force, the other has proceeded as a moral power. Where
the one has swept like the tempest, the other has followed
like the summer dawn. Where the one has embattled
armed legions, the other has sent Teachers of truth,
Missionaries of peace, and Sisters of Charity. Where




136 FORGIVE OUR DEBTS AS at E FORGIVE OUR DEBTORS.
the one has bleached the earth with human bones, the
other has clothed it with shining harvests. Where the
one has reared shambles of lust and marts of mammon, the
other has built asylums and hospitals and opened countless
channels of benevolence. Where the one has blotted
heaven with the smoke of worldliness and shut us in
with walls of materialism, the other has revealed the
starry prospect of immortality. Where the one has degraded rman, nourished skepticism and engendered despair, the other has kindled in the soul a consciousness of
its destiny, and poured the great influences of redemption.
This struggle is still going on. Even now does the
spirit of Christ's mercy question the selfishness of those
codes, by which in the name of punishment man gratifies revenge, and for the sake of preservation insists
upon destruction. The ample Christianity of the Gospels gathers even the tainted criminal into its fold, and
while it bids us protect also bids us spare. While it
sanctions retribution it urges us to see to it that retribution itself becomes a healing chastisement. Even now
do we discover the wisdom of saving rather than
destroying, and learn that a renewed soul is a better
guarantee for society than a hateful victim; that no comnunity is so safe as that where God's attributes are sovereign in their essential unity —a community strong




FORGIVE OUR DEBTS AS WE FORGIVE OUR DEBTORS. 137
with that Justice which is the pillar, that Mercy which
is the glory of His Throne.
Still wider than we can prophecy, more deep than we
can fathom, this spirit of mercy will contend with this
spirit of selfishness. But who can doubt the issue?
Who that has ever felt the need, or extended the blessing
of forgiveness?








DISCOURSE VII.
" And lead us not into temptation."-Matthew vi: 13.
THE prayer for the pardon of sin is coupled with a
sense of spiritual weakness. The moral condition that
excites desire for the one, suggests the liabilities of the
other. In the retirement of devotion, the world falls
away from us, its busy machinery stops, and its complex
shapes, of action are arranged in the order of contemplation. Then, a man may look calmly back upon his
past conduct and explore the windings of his own heart.
He may wonder at the slight causes that have driven
him astray; at the phantoms he has followed and embraced; at the poverty of the draught which has intoxicated, at the baseness of the chains which have bound
him. He may wonder that his whole soul has been so
intensely mixed with perishable elements and delusive
forms. For, then he is far above the chafing current of
life. He sees with a clearer vision. He applies the
touchstone of eternal reality.
But when, smitten with repentance, he cries for for.




140        LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION.
giveness, in that very petition, I repeat, he confesses his
liability. The depth of his remorse indicates the degree
of his exposure.  The fact that these temporalities,
worthless as they may be, have so strongly controlled
him, betrays his feebleness. And into that world that
now beats against his retirement, he must soon re-enter.
Its bounding pulses will become mated with his own,
and its hot life will settle in his veins. And, however
much that world has dwindled beneath the eye of contemplation, it will expand to its old dimensions in the contact of. action. The future will cast itself in the mold
of the past. The bad suggestions and the fair deceits,
the multitudinous hosts of evil, that seemed like dreams,
stand up again awaiting him as hard realities. The
ghosts of retrospect embody themselves anew, and those
unsubstantial shadows as they seemed in the light of
evening reflection and of morning thought, he will find
to be terrible facts in the wrestlings of passion and the
heat of noon-day. If he could always experience the
freshness and freedom of that repentant hour; if that
calm, cool Presence of God could be his tent in the
busy market and the crowded street, he might venture
forth with stronger confidence. But a snare may spring
upon him in the very first step from the threshold. The
first path he turns into may be a path of disobedience
and neglect.




LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION.         141
Besides, were the world limited to the walls of his own
chamber, to the bed of sickness, to the closet of study, to
the cloisters of a monastic retirement, nay, to the heart
alone, and that heart in its devoutest action; how thick,
even here, the forms of evil! How busy, how real;
how mighty! He, then, who really feels his sins-who
understands the atmosphere in which they thrive, the
moral condition from which they spring, will instantly
blend the petition now before us with that just prece*ding. No sooner will he say-" Forgive us our debts!"
than he will pray-" Lead us not into temptation."
It will be well for us, then, to consider the meaning
and the applications of this prayer, which is so necessary and so urgent.
I. I observe that this is not a prayer against temptation-that is, against the circumstances of temptation.
For, this would be a prayer against all our powers and opportunities. It would be a virtual rejection of our highest
nature and of our noblest privileges. If a man should ask
that he might never be liable to bodily pain, it would be,
essentially, a petition that he might never experience
bodily pleasure; for his prayer could be answered only by
the extirpation of those nerves which alike convey both
sensations. If one should ask that his capability of seeing
evil might be quenched, he would really ask for the destruction of his eyes; for the faculty of beholding the evil as well




142        LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION.
as the good, is the very faculty of vision itself. Following
out the analogy, I would say that to pray that we never
may be tempted, would be to pray that the circumstances
of our present existence may have no moral significance
for us. It would be a prayer that we may have no selfconsciousness, and no spiritual freedom.  For, if we
have self-consciousness, that is, if we know the character of our conduct and our motives, this faculty must be
accompanied by the power of self-direction. Why should
we know the inner springs of our moral nature, their different motives and tendencies and the character of their
-work, unless we have this self-control? And, if we have
this ability, or, in other words, this moral freedom, of
course we have the power of choice. But, -again, there
is no employment for this power of choice-we could
never exercise it-unless things have a diverse moral
significance, unless we are solicited by the evil as well'as by
the good. The self-same consciousness that feels the
suggestions of the one, feels the suggestions of the other.
The ability to do right is the ability to do wrong.  To
pray, therefore, that we may not be liable to temptation,
is to pray that we may never know or feel moral excellence-that we may put out the eye, and paralyze the
nerves of the soul. Remove this liability, and you destroy the moral power of our nature; you obliterate the
highest peculiarity of manhood. You would make man




LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION.         143
as a brute-nay, as a planet, driven and attracted
upon the plane of an inevitable orbit.
But more than this, temptation is the instrument of all
self-productive power-of all spontaneous moral energy.
It is the test of all virtue; nor can we- conceive the attainment of virtue, without its existence and opposing
action.  Virtue is not innocence, or mere abstinence
from guilt. Tt is positive excellence. It is an acquired skill. It is tne allegiance of free-will, and the consummate grace of a disciplined nature. It does not unfold
itself as an intrinsic sentiment, it does not come by an
easy acquiescence in things; but it is, with God's help,
gained, as the intellect acquires its power and the
right hand its cunning, by resisting and overcoming obstacles.
Now, we may puzzle ourselves with presumptuous
speculations. We may curiously ask whether God could
not have made man holy and happy without this tremendous exposure —without going through these battles of
temptation? It will not do for us to dogmatize in this
elevated region of inquiry. But, speaking earnestly, I will
say, that I cannot conceive how God could have made
man a creature of progress, a being of vital and original
morality, without bestowing upon him this contingent
power, and throwing him in contact with evil. I cannot
conceive man's attaining the ideal of holiness and hap



144        LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION.
piness which now lies within his reach, without the selfsame condition in which he now exists. "But," says a
shrewd philosopny, " God made man's circumstances and
man's nature; to whom, then, is the blame of sin to be
referred? Is man guilty if he yields, his nature being so
weak and temptation so strong?" But suppose we answer this by assuming another philosophy. Admitting
that God ordained the circumstances and created the
nature of man, it does not follow that he made the evil
of the one or the weakness of the other. But this may
exist as an intrinsic necessity in things, which could not
be prevented any more than the finite could be made infinite.. But suppose, while this exists as a necessary condition, we behold God pouring out all positive excellence,
ordaining all order, harmony, beauty, virtue; ever working against evil and calling upon man, His moral image,
everywhere to do the same, to be his co-worker; and
suppose man neglects this Divine solicitation, refuses this
Divine help, suffers his spiritual energies to weaken and
to waste, and therefore of his own will resists not but
yields to sin; where then does the blame fall? Suppose
too, that even foreseeing man would often fall, God foresaw the most glorious result of the whole, and thus, as
the best election among many possibilities, ordained the
present scheme, can we in aught object?
I do not present the above as an established theory of




LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION.          145
sound as the notion that Omnipotence means the power
of accomplishing inconsistencies as well as possibilities;
that God made essential evil as well as good; that the
murder committed by Cain was really as acceptable to
Him as the sacrifice offered by Abel; and that, though
summoning man to resist sin and making the richest
provisions for his escape from it, in doing that sin he
is accomplishing His will as much as in overcoming it
or flying from it. I do not expect to strain every moral
problem through the alembic of reason; but, if one of
these two theories must be selected, I prefer the one
which I have just suggested.
But, my friends, there is no need of metaphysical
theories upon the subject-now before us. For, whatever
philosophy we adopt, the blame is not in the fact of being tempted, but of yielding to temptation. Our nature
may be feeble, and our circumstances may teem with
evil suggestions, but we are not obliged to surrender.
No necessity drives us to sin.  We are encouraged by
God and by every good thing to resist and to stand
fast, we are furnished with divine help, and our
highest achievement, is, by that help, in overcoming
evil. And when we fall, we fall voluntarily. Says
the poet"Evil into the mind of God or man
May come and go, so unapproved, and leave
No spot or blame behind."
13




146       LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION.
And, from better authority, we know that he who
came to redeem man from evil, "was tempted in all
points as we are, but without sin." The solicitous wrong
leaves no taint in our souls if we let it pass by, but the
cherishing it, and yielding to it, is the sin. And when
we do this, we do it freely. We do it knowing that it
is wrong, and that we have power to do otherwise.
Ours, and ours alone, therefore, is the blame.
Such, then, are the nature and the consequences of
temptation. And if our weakness, our shame, our guilt
are involved with it, so are our freedom, our power,
our holiness and our happiness. Therefore, we cannot
pray that we may not be liable to temptation, or that
we may not be. tempted. We cannot shrink in moral
cowardice from the battle before us. We cannot meanly
hide our talent in the earth. We must not seek out
temptation. We must not rush into it. Nay, we should
avoid it. But we must not decline it; we cannot escape
from it. Let us, then, with trust and with prayer press
on. Let us remember that man is not a machine driven
along the grooves of fixed fate, but an incalculable
power sent into the universe to develop itself-a living
personality precipitated upon the axis of free-will, and
from its own inner impulse describing the parabola of
good or evil. He is not, like material nature, the inert
receptacle of a higher force and moved from without;




LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION.        147
but, so far as the finite can resemble the Infinite he is
like God, capable of original power, and, if holy, holy
not by arbitrary conformity but as an essential expression of his own being. Nor is there anything more
solemn than the responsibility which is involved in this
moral freedom; nothing more momentous than the encounter of the soul with temptation; nothing more fearful than the issues of defeat; nothing more glorious than
the results of victory. But it is a responsibility of
which we cannot rid ourselves. Our noblest privilege
is that responsibility-our highest dignity is this power
of choice.
II. But still we must assiduously lift up this prayer"Lead us not into temptation; and -we shall breathe
it more earnestly the more we perceive the truths I have
just urged. With no presumptuous confidence, but with
humility and a sense of weakness, shall we go forth into
the world, or treat with our own hearts.  As the second
general point in this discourse, then, let me endeavor to
present the true meaning of the text. The meaning
opens to us in the different though proper rendering of a
single word. Instead of " Lead us not into temptation,"
it would be better to read —" Abandon us not to temptation;" which translation is sustained by good authority,
as well as by the nature of things. The spirit of this
prayer, then, is not directed against the circumstances of




148        LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION.
temptation, but against its power and in behalf of our
weakness. "Abandon us not to temptation! We are
in a world of evil suggestions. Leave us not alone, 0
God, to meet it; give us ever thy divine help and guidance; let us not go among its hosts unsheltered. Lead
us not into temptation-let us not be ensnared by it;
but lead us safely, and victoriously through it!"
There are various ways in which this meaning of the
prayer may be specified. But perhaps we shall best express its essential significance when we say —" Suffer us
not to forget that God is, and what God is." Let us not,
like Peter, fall into a presumptuous confidence in our
own virtue. Let us not go abroad in the world, supposing that we alone are strong enough to grapple with
evil promptings and enticements. Let us remember that
we need a constant sense of God's presence, a clear
perception of His character, and a profound faith in His
Providential succor. It has been said by another, that
those who are tempted "are tempted to doubt that God
is, and that He is the author of good, and not of evil;
and that He is mightier than the evil; and that He can
and will overthrow it, and deliver the universe out of it.
This is the real temptation, there is no other."+ And is
it not true that men, when they yield to temptation,
really forget God-is not this the radical mischief? Con* Maurice.




LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION.       149
sider, for a monient. Do you suppose, if, at the time
when sin is pressing you hard and when your will is
about to consent, a vivid sense of God could break upon
you; if a mighty consciousness of His Presence could
seize upon you, and you could realize that His eye was
piercing to the core of your heart; if, moreover, you
had a clear perception of His moral excellence, of the
supremacy of goodness as manifested in Him, and, by
contrast, of the odiousness of evil, do you suppose then
you could give way to that temptation? And is not all
evil triumphant over man's will and his heart, becau;e
that strong consciousness is absent? Were it otherwise, could the murderer accomplish his bloody intent?
Before he could brace himself to that horrid purpose,
he must struggle with temptation; he has felt the
pressure of good as well as the desire for evil. One by
one, more or less reluctantly, with more or less force, he
has smothered the suggestions of God in his soul. He
has in himself put out the light, before in any other
sense he could say —" Put out the light." What then,
as he creeps to his deed under the canopy of darkness,
what then if a sense of the instant Deity should flash
upon that benumbed conscience, those drugged remonstrances in his soul? Would they not wake with irresistible energy? What if, in that lonely star that breaks
through the rifted cloud, he should detect the eye of Om



150       LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION.
niscience? What if, in the passing wind, God should
talk to him?  What if the loveliness of the infinite
Father, the glory of His moral nature, the supreme excellence of goodness, should kindle upon the horizon
before him? Would evil have any power over him,
then? Could any solicitation then attract him to the
commission of that crime? Or, suppose that an opportunity occurs for a man to commit a profitable fraud.
Suppose that every circumstance sharpens the evil suggestion, and spares him even the effort of invention.
No human skill can detect his secret, or suspect his
plan. The moral sense remonstrates for a time, but at
length the biassed will conspires with the occasion.
Everything is ready and urgent. What then if only the,
truth of GOD should shoot like a sunbeam through his
wicked purposes? What then if he should be vividly
struck with the conviction that God is, and should realize the great sanctions involved in that fact? The temptation would lose its charm, and the web of deceit drop
from his trembling hands. Or take any man who lives
a life of mere convenience and policy, who recognizes no
higher standard than self-interest, and who values nothing but sensual good and is completely controlled by his
appetites and lusts; and is not the essential error of such
a life the lack of hearty belief in God?  Yes, temptation is fed by practical atheism; by a vital skepticism




LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION.        151
as to moral goodness. The great truths of God and
duty are dim and feeble in the soul, and covered with
sensual accretions. Our action is outward and habitual
rather than introspective and sincere. We live in conventionalisms, and out conventionalisms are dead at the
root. Our plans, our motives, our ideals, are mixed with
a confused and jarring worldliness. We test them with
earthly weights and measures. We do not single them
out in prayer. We do not let the light of infinite reality
stream in upon them. We do not stand face to face
with God. If we did, we would never practically deny
the might and the worth of goodness. We never would
surrender to evil. We never would be overswept by
strong delusion to believe a lie; to submit to the fatal
deceit that there is any real gain in sin, or any loss in
virtue. Nor would we ever, in moments of intellectual
perplexity, lose our faith, or, in seasons of sorrow and
gloom, give place to distrust. Temptation, then, would
have no edge. Our faith would prevent our deliberate
yielding to sin, and would guard us from passionate surprise. Before our true ideal, the wrong, however attractive its semblance, would change and fall like Dagon.
There have lived those whose history far transcends
the ordinary standard, and who are distinguished even
among the great men of the earth. They strike us by
their calm grandeur-by their moral force. Though




152         LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION.
dead, they ar6 springs of an ever-fresh vitality, and their
influence beats as a constant inspiration through the arteries of the race. Their dying words, though mocked
at, were living prophecies, and their eyes, though they
looked through veils of flame, looked far into the future.
These were the heroes of the truth, the martyrs for
righteousness' sake, the men who could find no compromise between right and wrong, the men who
" - - - Gave glorious chase
To persecutions; and against the face
Of Death and fiercest dangers, durst with brave
And sober pace march on to meet a grave."
Sometimes they appear in a more gentle mold, and
die in a less celebrated theatre. But they are all distinguished by a reliance upon something deeper than time
or sense; by a stedfast rejection of evil however splendid, even though it involves the boon of life itself; by
an open confession of truth even in blood and flame.
Their real strength and recompense was belief in God,
in the worth and the power of goodness. And that faith
dwelling now in the heart of the feeblest man, shall make
him stronger than all this world. In the allurements of
wealth and pleasure, it shall be a safeguard and a guide.
In misfortune it shall confirm religious trust, and make
the bed of poverty like Jacob's stony pillow; it shall
arm the heart with sublime courage and banish all the
clouds of doubt. It and it alone is the strength of the
tempted spirit, whatever the form of temptation.




LEAD Us NOT INTO TEMPTATION.         153
Thus we perceive the force of the prayer-" Abandon
us not to temptation." It is essentially an expression of
faith in God. It is a Prayer that we may always entertain a sense of His presence and of His nature; and
that we may not fall into practical atheism.  When we
sincerely breathe this petition, we are armed against sin.
When we thus virtually say, we will worship the Lord
our God, and Him only will we serve, the devil leaveth
us. When evil solicitation presses us, and we lean upon
our Father, and cry, "Abandon us not to temptation,"
we have an answer and a help in the prayer itself.
III. Letus consider, finally, some circumstances in
which the prayer of the text is applicable. As a general
remark, then, it is only necessary to say that the occasions of temptation are continual and multiform. They
open upon us everywhere; and this petition, therefore,
should always rise from  our hearts  But two or three
special truths are suggested by this fact upon which I
would dwell, in closing.
First, then I observe, that temptation, of course, will
always assail our weak point. "T*emptation cannot exist
without the concurrence of inclination and opportzunity.
If we are ever so much inclined to do evil and have not
the means, we are not tempted. If we are surrounded
with facilities and have not the will we are not tempted.
No doubt a great deal that is called virtue is of this neg



154       LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION.
ative sort. M[en are innocent of particular sins because
they are not attracted to those sins. But do they resist
those to which they are attracted? Are they loyal to
righteousness when both desire and occasion conspire
against it?  This is the test of virtue. A man may
spurn evil suggestions ninety-nine times, and yield upon
the hundredth, because that jumps exactly with his inclination. And that is the point where he will begin to.
parley with conscience, to hunt up compromises, to invent
sophistical excuses. He will endeavor to make out that
the evil is not evil-or that the circumstances which
now beset him are different from those that have entangled other men-or that the end is good though the means
are a little'oblique. All shows that now he is really
tempted. All this calls upon him to pray-" Abandon
us not to temptation."  Of course, the struggle which
rent the soul of the premeditating murderer would never
trouble him; because he had no disposition to murder.
He might dismiss the suggestion of fraud, if for no other
reason, for fear of detection. The opportunity was not
clear. But now upon some different point, he is tried.
Whatever the form. of temptation, then, it exists only
when circumstances and inclination combine, and it will
not assail the fortified but the weak point of your virtue.
It will come where least expected, and your very lack
of suspicion, your very self-confidence, may be its in



LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION.         155
strument. But wherever the evil wrestles with the good,
be the strife ever so secret and personal, then you have
need of the petition in the text.
I observe, in the next place, that every man has his
peculiar temptation. One condition in life is really no
more exposed than another.  Yet, are we not apt to
think otherwise? We may imagine that our condition is
one of special trial, and that if we could only occupy our
neighbor's sphere we should live better lives. This is all
delusion. Our peculiar trials may not perplex the other,
nor would his plague us; but, in his own situation
each finds keen tests of virtue incident to that situation. The rich man has his temptations. Wrapped
round with ease, and ministered to by obsequious circumstances, he is tempted to forget his dependence upon Divine help, to waste his life in splendid idleness, to weaken his soul with luxury and become confirmed in pride.
He contemplates the robust health and diligent industry
of the poor man, and, in a fit of sentimental regret, sighs
for the safeguards of his condition. But were he actually
to change places with the other and adopt his experience,
he would learn that poverty has its temptations also.
He would feel its fretful cares, its gloomy distrusts, its
sense of weakness; and, too often, its social bitterness,
its vulgar selfishness, and its coarse pleasures. Then he
would understand how it was that the poor man used to




156        LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION.
look up to his estate, and sigh not merely for its material
advantages, but for its freedom from evil suggestions.
He would understand how it was that the poor man did
not lay the blame of his sins where he should, upon
himself, but upon his circumstances. So has the busy
man of the world his peculiar temptations, his perplexing
cares, his close, hot contacts with evil.  So has the
scholar his doubts and morbid suggestions.  So has each
man, I repeat, his own spiritual trials, so are all conditions pregnant with temptation, and if in either of these
we fall the guilt is in ourselves; if in either of these we
stand that victory is the noblest result we are permitted
to achieve.
Once more; let us consider the instruction and the
help which we derive from the fact that the personal history of Christ himself is, in respect to temptation, representative of our own. It is so, because, although he
committed no sin, he was tempted as we are. But more
than this-he was tempted in all points as we are.
And we shall find, I think, that the three attempts upon
his spiritual integrity, were in the three grades, or spheres,
in which temptation assails us. Each temptation touched a different point in his condition; and, although
the specific forms of our trial are innumerable, they
may all be generalized in three great classes.
The first appeal of evil to the Savior, was a sugges.




LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION.          157
tion to appetite.  Hungering as he was, it said to him
-" Command that these stones be made bread."  "Exert your miraculous powers for the gratification of your
bodily wants."  My friends, although the personages are
far different, and there are no supernatural powers appealed to, is not this the general character of the first
great temptation that salutes us? It is the lowest in
our spiritual discipline, yet it is, perhaps, the most common of all. Evil addresses us first in our sensual being. It urges us to live merely as sensual creatures, to
debase our higher nature, to pervert our nobler powers,
in the gratification of animal lusts. Is not this one
great circle of evil, one radical principle, out of which
spring innumerable sins? And is not this the life that
multitudes are really living? Fools of passion, slaves
of sense, discrowned heirs of immortality, casting themselves into the kennel and the mire! And is not this,
as it were, a perversion of miraculous powers to mean
uses? If we look with spiritual discernment upon the
drunkard's bloated face, the libertine's jaded eye, the epicure's disease and agony, is it not the most melancholy
thought of all, that a man, made to walk erect in the
glory of his undying nature, should thus reel under the
weight and decrepitude of vice-that he should thus
seal up those springs of spiritual power, and waste that
wealth of intellect, and paralyze that moral freedom14




158        LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION.
that with the infinite heaven of light and love spread all
around him, he should thus shut himself in to darkness
and corruption? Is there not need for him, is there not
often need for us, to say as the Master said —" Man shall
not live by bread alone "-does not draw his whole life
from sensual and outward things, possesses not merely a
sensual and outward life-" 5Man shall not live by bread
alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the
mouth of God,"
Jesus was next tempted to cast himself from a pinnacle of the temple, relying upon his personal consequence
for supernatural help. When we take away the accessories of this scene, it really resolves itself into an appeal
to selfishness.  The Tempter said, virtually,-" Do as
you will, the whole universe is for you, and will serve
you.'~- And is not the excitement of self-consequence
the second order of temptation in our spiritual experience?  We have risen then above the commission of
gross vices because they injure ourselves;. and this motive is the main-spring of all our negative virtue.  We
do this or that good act, because it benefits ourselves;
and this motive will account for all our positive virtue.
And so, in this spiritual sphere, our whole existence is
the current of a selfish aim, and all our endeavor is for
selfish ends.  We live as though. the powers of nature
were ordained solely for ourselves; were merely to pam



LEAD US NOT INTO.TEMPTATION.        159
per and to serve us. We forget our relations to the rest
— our stewardship as recipients of a common bounty —
and so, if we are only happy and safe, we think not what
our life is to others, we heed not their claims upon our
sympathy and our service, we care for nothing but self.
If we indulge in a luxury we think not that our present
practice may induce moral death for our neighbor. What
of him?  If we are curtained about with comfort, we
feel not that while we sleep he bleeds and perishes.
What is that to us?  Upon our pinnacle of self-will and
vanity, we would, if we could, command the very laws
of nature to bear us up, without regard to the general
damage. Often, therefore, do we need to say to our hard
and close-locked souls —" Thou shalt not tempt the Lord
thy God."
The Tempter's last appeal was to ambition.  "All
the kingdoms of the earth will I give thee, if thou wilt
fall down and worship me."  And the highest grade of
temptation in us, is connected with some earnest purpose, some intense, all-absorbing desire, to which we will
sacrifice even the most sacred claims. This evil of am.
bition Milton has styled"The last infirmity of noble minds.!
It is the source of those rarer and graver errors which
appear in personal history. I say rarer, because they
are generally exhibited by men of peculiar energy and




160        LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION.
peculiar worth. Such are far above the debasement of
appetite, and although selfishness may mingle with their
purpose, as it does with all wrong, that purpose is not
inconsistent with many noble traits. But that purpose
is also exclusive and uncompromising. It sets up its
own object as the highest of all standards. It protrudes
its own aim beyond all lawful limits. Hence men who
would ordinarily spurn the wrong, when once the object
of this intense desire glitters before them will thrust
aside all sanctions, and serve even Satan to obtain it.
Suppose, for instance, that a man sets his heart upon
wealth. This is a lawful pursuit within due bounds, but
he makes it the main end of life. Fond as he is of virtue in the ideal, nay practically honoring it in many
points of his conduct, suppose that, to accomplish his
purpose, one obstacle and only one stands in the waybut that involves truth, justice, virtue. Will not a conflict rise then in his soul'?  Will not temptation press
him with a keen edge?  Will he not labor to transform
Satan into an angel of light that he may worship him?
If you would discover this kind of temptation operating in another form, you may behold a man of many rare
qualities, become even a Napoleon in his single thirst for
power. When the master desire is loose, what are burning cities, sacked dwellings, heaps of dead? Over all he
looks straight to his object. He rides through the earth




LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION.         161
upon the pale horse of Death, its mane dripping blood.
So, in a narrower scale, often, exists the same master
passion. It burns in the bosoms of many who are neither
vicious, nor merely selfish men. They thirst perhaps for
the triumph of a sect, or a measure, or an opinion.  Yes,
this desire steals even into the calm atmosphere of the
intellectual world.  Even the so-called Truth-seeker, the
professed disciple of " the first good and first fair," yields
to its insinuations. How many inducements bribe him
to shrink from the reality, to balk honest deductions, to
forget his allegiance to the truth, to wrap himself in the
mantle of pride, to swing into the dark gulf of skepticism!
In clinging to his self-confident wisdom, may he not let
go humility? In climbing the dizzy heights of knowledge, may he not.reject the necessary help of faith?
But, whatever the shape of this temptation, it is the
last and mightest, and therefore, to conquer it, we must
take refuge in the last and mightiest. power against all
evil. We must "worship the Lord our God, and Him
only must we serve."
These, then, are the radical spheres of temptation, out
of which its ripe and multiform suggestions grow. And
its force is victorious over us because we live only in
ourselves and in immediate circumstances.  We live
impulsively, driven by appetite; we live subjectively,
narrowing and drawing all things down to self; we live




162        LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION.
objectively, throwing away all things, even ourselves, to
obtain, what is, after all, a secondary good. Let us, then,
obey a higher law than lust. Let us look beyond ourselves. Let us bring the truth of God and of our
own duty into relation with all we do. Let us rejoice,
too, that we have not only the example of the Redeemer's struggles, but of his victory, and let us apply for his
spirit.  Let us implore the all-sufficient help of his Father
and our Father-let us cry to Him  in every time of
moral need —" Lead us not into temptation!"




DISCOURSE VIII.
"But deliver us from cvil? — Matthew vi: 13.
Tinis is a spontaneous and universal petition. It is
incident to every condition of human life. In one way
or another it rises from every heart. Perhaps too it is
the earliest of prayers. For, it may be questioned
whether the desire for good is not first expressed by this
deprecation of evil; whether man does not feel what he
suffers before he knows what he wants; whether he does
not struggle against the real before he perceives the
ideal. Is not that sense of dependence, for instance,
which induces all supplication, a sense of weakness? Is
not the common cry —" Give us this day our daily bread,"
forced out by the pressure of necessity? Is not —" Forgive us our debts," the entreaty of a sharp remorse?
But, if not older, at least as old and as extensive as
the desire for any good thing, is this prayer —" Deliver
us from evil."  It has been lifted up in all ages of the
world, and wherever there is a consciousness of evil it
rises against that evil. Against the earthquake and the




164            DELIVER US FROM EVIL.
tornado, against desolating flood and untimely frost,
against conflagration and pestilence, against accident,
disease, and death. The savage addresses it to his fetish, and the christian to his God. The devout man
breathes it ere he goes among the unknown mischiefs
and teeming possibilities of the day, or lies down to sleep
with night and God around him. The sinner, in the
shock of retribution deliriously shouts it to the Being
whom he has so long forgotten. It is the child's prayer,
who can picture the infinite Love only by images of parental affection, and who shrinks into that from a vague
and chilling terror. It is the old man's petition who feels
the props of life dropping away, and who fears lest
second childhood should paralyze the faith of the first.
It trembles upon the lips of youth just setting out to its
venture. It yearns in the bosom of manhood, wrestling
with difficulty and gathering its sheaves in the burden
and heat of the day. Pitched in every key of distress,
yet beating with one common undertone, from human
hearts all round the earth, rises this great psalm of supplication.
I have separated the words of the text, then, from
those which formed the subject of the last discourse, because, although they are closely connected, each is capable of a different signification from the other. The
desire-" Lead us not into temptation," implies that the




DELIVER US FROM EVIL.            165
suppliant has some knowledge of himself and of moral
relations; it indicates some depth of spiritual experience.
The desire —" Deliver us from evil," as I have just said,
is spontaneous. When we say-" Lead us not into
temptation," we pray especially against ourselves, against
the traitor within us. When we say-" Deliver us
from evil," we pray against foreign ills also; against
afflictions, against injuries that come without our own
agency. Perhaps, we may say indeed, that one clause
is the converse of the other. That one petition is analytic, and suggests the radical spring, the substantial
reality of all evil; while the other is synthetic, and refers to evil in its various phases and modifications.
"Lead us not into temptation," is a prayer breathed in
the silence of introspection; "Deliver us from evil," is
a prayer that breaks out in actual contact and suffering,
in effort, and fear, and hope.
These are the reasons why I have set the text as a
topic by itself. Let us now attend to some of the specific considerations which it suggests. Let us see what
this prayer —" Deliver us from evil," implies; the state
of mind and the conduct with which it is consistent.
I. It implies a recognition of the fact that what we
usually term evil is evil. He who taught us to breathe
this prayer did not inculcate Stoicism. His ideal of
virtue was not a contemptuous endurance, too proud to




166          DELIVER US FROM EVIL.
stoop to calamity or to confess suffering. His religion
does not seek to deaden our emotions, and to harden our
fibres into rock. It acknowledges our humanity. It
justifies our sensitiveness to pain and loss. Indeed, the
harshness and isolation in the character of the Stoic,
do not comport with the character of the Christian.
The unflinching, impenetrable man is not lovely. Nor,
on the other hand, can he love much. For, ere he could
acquire this calm insensibility, he must curdle all the
genial flow of his nature. He must break many affinities which connect him with his race. He must not only
cauterize his own wounds, but destroy the very springs
of sympathy. By killing the nerves of feeling, he not
only suspends that mysterious ordinance by which our
sharpest sufferings are involved with our richest enjoyments, but he cuts himself loose from the experiences
of our humanity.  He cannot respond to its emotions,
nor understand its sentiments. He cannot mix with it
in pity, and charity, and mutual help. The man of large
love is always the man of deep sensibility. The man
of broad and genial wisdom is a man controllable by
human affections, and whose nature, at a thousand
points, feels and shrinks from suffering. Nor is this
sentiment inconsistent wiih the virtues of moral heroism
and patience. Moral heroism is a different thing from
philosophical contempt. It appears in resistance and in




DELIVER US FROM EVIL.                167
struggling, and while it is victorious over evil it denotes
a keen appreciation of it. Patience is something more
than physical endurance; it is spiritual resignation. It
is not self-sufficiency, but filial reliance.  It includes the
feeling as well as the bearing of evil, and its essential
excellence consists in  this fact.  While, beneath the
light of God's countenance, its aspect is calm as the
stilled waters of Galilee, its depths are yet tremulous
with the agitation of the storm.  I repeat, then, Christianity is not stoicism. But its rarest qualities, instead
of indicating a stern insensibility to evil, grow out of a
vivid realization of it.
I remark moreover that the system to which the sentiment of the text belongs, does not perplex our perception of evil. I mean by this, that Christianitygives us
no hint that evil is only apparent-the reverse side of a
fact the obverse of which is good-the unsubstantial
shadow of a blessed purpose, hideous to our limited
vision, but beautiful in the all-comprehending sight of
God.  This idea, therefore, at the strongest, is but a surmise, and, as I think, it is not a reasonable surmise.  So
far as circumstantial ills and bodily afflictions are concerned, such as poverty, disease, pain, death,.I admit the
blessed ends which they often serve. I would not deny
the great fact that such evil is disciplinary —that good
evolves from  it.  But, surely, the good result is not




168           DELIVER US FROM EVIL.
identical with the evil agent. Nor can I conceive that,
from any point of view, the latter will be entitled to
share the epithets of the former, or will change its apparent character. Rather may we believe that it accomplishes its disciplinary work, because it is essentially
evil. Its intrinsic smart and sting constitute the very
trial by which the human spirit is refined.
But, however we may regard these physical and
earthly ills, much more objectionable is the notion I am
now alluding to, in its application to moral evil-the notion that sin is one thing to man and another thing in
the sight of God; that, as it revolves through the depths
of our consciousness, it is wrong, but, as it turns in the
light of his Omniscience, it is right. I cannot believe
there is any such oblique puzzle in the universe; that
there is any such ambiguity in the nature and the declarations of the Infinite One; but that moral evil is
evil, above, and beneath, and to the core. If it is in any
sense good, how could we pray to be delivered from it?
It cannot be, then, that it is God's disguised servant.
It is His open enemy.  He does not work with it, but
against it. He calls upon man to hate it, to resist it,
to lift up his heart and voice against it-and He will
be near to help.
The prayer of the text, then, implies the recognition
of essential evil.  Suffering by it as we do, it is right to




DELIVER US FROM EVIL.           169
pray that we may be delivered from it. It is right to
pray that we may be delivered from physical and earthly
woes. Such a prayer does not indicate ignorance of
the good result which these evils serve. It is not a murmuring against the will of God. It is simply the shrinking of our human nature from actual suffering and injury-an earnest and filial desire, if it be God's pleasure,
that these ills may be removed, or may not come. It is
not for man to choose the path through which his Father
shall lead him, but if, peradventure, that Father would
ordain otherwise, he desires it may be so. At any rate,
these woes oppress and hurt him, and he beats against
them until he knows what the Supreme Will is. He
does not recognize them as intrinsically otherwise than
evil, and deems it not wrong to ask deliverance from
them. Our common afflictions are treated as evils by
the great Redeemer, and he pitied and removed them as
such. His miracles were miracles of relief from earthly
and bodily ills; they answered and thus sanctioned the
prayers lifted against these ills. He mingled his sympathy with our human desires when he touched the blind
eye, and the withered limb. He justified our prayers
for rescue from sickness, when he laid his hand upon
the fevered brow. He showed that it is not wrong to
cry out against hunger, when he fed the five thousand.
He made it proper for us to supplicate deliverance from
15




170            DELIVER US FROM EVIL.
the elements, when he stilled the wind and subdued the
angry waters. And he consecrated our household affections that dread the death of the beloved; that will
weep over their pale faces and bleed when we lay them
away; he consecrated these feelings when he restored
Jairus' daughter and the widow's son. More than all,
we cannot forget that he himself wrestled in the gloom
of the garden, and prayed that the cup might be taken
from his lips. I repeat, then, it is right, in the loneliness
of our closets and in the midst of the congregation, in
the family circle, on the land and on the sea, to pray
against these earthly ills-against poverty, disease, accident, and all that hurts us.
But let me say, that especially is this a prayer against
moral evil. It is so in the connection in which it stands
with the petition against temptation, and by the proper
rendering of the text, which is —" Deliver us from the
evil one."  "Deliver us from the principle of evil; from
all sin and wrong, in whatever shape it comes."  He
who sincerely breathes this prayer, is penetrated by a
profound conviction of the extent of vice, crime, falsehood, and all forms of iniquity.  He sees this evil principle circulating through all the veins of the world-in
institutions and governments, in customs and religions,
in communities and individuals, and, especially, imbedded in his own heart, clinging to his own inner nature.




DELIVER US FROM EVIL.              171
Thus beholding with a comprehensive and intense vision,
he prays-" Deliver us from evil." No doubt this kind
of evil eclipses all others, and it is this, therefore, that
I shall generally refer to in the remainder of this discourse.
II. I proceed to remark that we do not practically
apply this prayer by wholly abstracting ourselves from
evil.  There have been those in the world who have
reasoned thus;-" Here," said they, "is the great fact of
evil. It seems inherent in our mortal condition. It is
inseparable from human nature and earthly circumstan.
ces.  It encounters us wherever we go.  It entangles
us at every step. It meets us on the right hand and on
the left.  It stirs in the suggestions of appetite.  It betrays us in our emotions. It is subtly involved with our
affections.  It taints and biasses our will.  It bribes our
reason.  It is in the lust of the flesh, the pride of the
eye, and the pride of life. How, then, shall we treat
this fact?  How shall we act concerning it?"  Their
answer has been; —"We must, as far as possible, close
up all the avenues through which it suggests itself. We
must retire from the outward world, shut ourselves in
cloisters, mortify these fleshly powers, and, as far as
possible, abandon the earth, rise above it by meditation
and ecstasy." Such ideas as these have by no means
been rare in the world. Those who have acted strictly




172           DELIVER US FROM EVIL.
upon them have been numerous and influential in' the
Christian Church. But I presume none who now hear
me are likely to adopt these notions literally; and I
would observe, therefore, that, in a modified form, they
may be and are quite prevalent. At least two separate
notions composing the main idea now alluded to are
quite prevalent.  The one, is that there is nothing but
evil in our earthly circumstances; and the other, is the
idea that it is of no use to contend with that evil. The
name applied to this system in its combined and literal
form is Mysticism, and adapting the same name to these
separate phases, I observe that mysticism is no more
sanctioned by christianity than stoicism. In the first
place, it is not true that there is nothing but evil in the
circumstances of the flesh and the world. I allude especially now to moral evil; for no man will deny the
physical good involved in these. As to our sensual affections, then, I would say that they are to be kept in
their proper sphere; they are to be resisted when they
break beyond it; but no doubt they have a proper sphere.
In that sphere, if they possess no character of moral
goodness, they are not intrinsically evil. But we may
give them an evil ascendency as much when we submit
them to a minute scrutiny and vigilance, as when we
serve them in blind indulgence. Nor let us, in any degree, cherish the M'anichean heresy that the outward




DELIVER US FROM EVIL.            173
world, that matter, is intrinsically vile. In itself, it is
God's creation-the theatre of His marvellous works,
the temple of His all-pervading spirit. It bears the impress of His hand, it glows with divine beauty, it is the
varied mold of His thought. What it becomes to us,
depends upon what we are in ourselves. It may inflame our passions and deceive our judgment. It may be
the arena of our lust and our hate. It may be the end
of our desires. It may be the sarcophagus of our souls.
But, to the good heart and the clear mind, it is a teacher
of the most sacred wisdom, and an opportunity for the
noblest labor. Such an one diligently pursuing the career of duty, finds glorious instruction upon its unrolled
pages, and innumerable helpers in its various instruments.
In truth, moral evil is in the soul; in its attributes and
affections; not in things without, not in the body or the
world. If we shut up the portals of sense, we are still
accessible to sin. If we build monastic walls as high as
the firmament between ourselves and the outward world,
still, the tempter and the snare are within us —in our
thoughts, in our prayers, in our visions of heaven. No
doubt, bad suggestions will come to us through the body.
No doubt, sin lurks in the street and the field. But
where will evil not intrude? Not in shrinking from it,
but in contact with it, by God's help, we can best over



174            DELIVER US FROM EVIL.
come it. Compelled to meet it everywhere, in that very
encounter if we sincerely pray —" Deliver us from evil,"
there is an opportunity to weaken and to vanquish it.
We subdue appetite not by seeking to eradicate it, but
by exercising holy affections in spite of it.  Not in
shrinking from the world, but by doing our duty in it,
do we blunt the edge of its temptations. Thus all things
will help rather than hinder us, and we shall be made
strong not weak, approved victors not timid deserters
from the battle of life.
I have spoken of -this error, because, I repeat, in one
form or another I believe it is widely prevalent. Min.
gling with our religious feelings and theories, is the idea
that the flesh and the world are utterly vile, that nature
is half-infidel, that the common air has a taint, that social relations are allurements from holiness, that all
earthly enjoyment is compromise with sin, and that religion, in fact, peculiarly consists in the renunciation of
these and in retirement from them.  That this is not a
practical application of the prayer-" Deliver us from
evil," I have yet farther to show in the sequel of this
discourse'.
Upon the other branch of Mysticism, I shall speak
but briefly; the idea that it is of no avail to contend
with evil. We may detect its legitimate conclusions in
that skepticism which affirms the total depravity and




DELIVER US FROM EVIL.             175
helplessness of the race, which denies all progress, and,
in fact, not only deprecates moral action, but strikes at
the root of morality itself. We may detect it also in
that selfish conservatism which pleads against any attempt at reform, and makes a profitable use of its philosophy. In neither of these is the doctrine or hope of
the petition contained in the text.  He who prays"Deliver us from evil," strives against it, and believes
in the possibility of its removal.
III.  I observe, again, that we do not make a practical application of this prayer when we live in moral indifference, when we make no resistance to evil, but
habitually indulge it. In other words, if the Christian
idea. is not expressed in Stoicism, nor Mysticism, it certainly is not consistent with Epicureanism.  And in
this form more than any other, the petition is virtually
disregarded.  Many men-are we not compelled to say
most?-while they shrink from physical ill, so far from
avoiding the contact of moral evil, live heedlessly with
it and in it. A great portion of them are not violent
sinners. They are not criminal, nor grossly vicious.
But they are morally insensible. They have no inward
perception, no spiritual ideal of life. They do not realize the claims of duty, the great end of being, and their
immortal relations. The charmed circle of the world
hems them around, and their souls are entangled and




176            DELIVER US FROM EVIL.
absorbed in its realities. Or if, for a moment, the veil
of sense breaks away, and they catch glimpses of the
starry infinitude about them, it soon closes again, and
their thoughts, affections, hopes, are all as secular as
ever. Now this insensibility to spiritual good, and, therefore, to spiritual evil, I call Epicureanism. True, it has
various aspects. It appears in the atheistic scoffer and
the shrewd man of the world; in the voluptuary and
the utilitarian.
You might behold it in one form, should you pass tonight through the streets of this great city, and enter
its haunts of debauchery, its dens of shame. No doubt,
you would find there some one to whom this world is
but a theatre of sensual indulgence; whose only ideal
of good is pleasure, and that pleasure the evanescent
thrill of animal enjoyment.  To whom this Sabbath has
brought no holy associations, no spiritual opportunities,
no auroral light of immortality; but who has used it as
a season of vicious indulgence,- or a carnival of:revelry
and lust. And this phase of Epicureanism you may
discover thickly around you, in degrees more or less refined. Under the form  of swinish excess, or the mask
of a polished libertinism, you may see men who live "as
the brutes that perish;" whose golden sands of life are
running away in base and frivolous uses; who hasten to
quench the suggestions of appetite in sottish inebriety,




DELIVER US FROM EVIL.            177
or artfully prolong them that they may tease satiety into
zest; to whom the present is a game of chance and the
future a blank, the Bible a fable, and the universe godless; to whom, perhaps, even now, life's feast seems
about to close; who find the lights going out and themselves trembling with decay, yet who strain the lees of
the tasteless wine, and crown themselves with the withered garlands, and say with a glee unnatural as laughter
among the tombs-" Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow
we die!"
But, my friends, there are other forms of Epicureanism, and while we shrink from it in this phase, are we
sure that we ourselves do not exhibit it in some other?
Not merely the gross sensualist or the skeptical philosopher, but, I repeat, the man whose whole soul is bound
up in earthly interests; who under many respectable
moralities, and professions of religion even, seeks only a
sensual and selfish end; who has no communion with
God and his own soul, or into whose most sacred hours
intrudes the jar and hum of the world; who has no
vigilant conscience, no clear moral sense, no infinite aspirations; this man, also, is an Epicurean. As his conception of life does not include the highest good, he is
riot conscious of the profoundest evil. He may have
employed the prayer of the text in a crisis of bodily suffering, a dread of some physical calamity, or with a




178            DELIVER US FROM EVIL.
vague religious emotion. But it has never sprung from
depths of spiritual earnestness and  agony.  He has
never detected the clinging subtlety of sin, he has never
felt the burden of guilt, he has never experienced the
fiercest edge of temptation, or wrestled with it in the
solitude of his own soul; and, therefore, the cry —" Deliver us from evil," is not expressed by him in its profoundest sense. Neither in this, nor in'any other degree
of Epicureanism, of mere sensual life, of moral unconsciousness, can this prayer be consistently uttered.
Yet, is it not strange that men should live so?' That
so little consideration should be given to our inward
being, and the real end of existence? If the universe
in which we are placed, if our own natures, have any
high and holy meaning; if the suggestions of truth, and
beauty, and goodness that visit us in our rarest moments
are not as delusive as the phantasms that haunt a sick
man's dream; if we are not mere floats upon a dead sea,
but voyagers upon an ever-flowing river; if we are embosomed in any wonder; if the discipline of earth has
any consistent purpose; if the pulses of another life
throb mysteriously with this; if we are heirs of immortality, and not mere denizens of the market and the
charnel-house; if the Bible fits any mood of' our joy or
sorrow; if the advent and the sufferings of Jesus make
any appeal to us; then let us throw off this fettering




DELIVER US FROM EVIL             179
and torpid worldliness; let us perceive that "spiritual,
interests are real and supreme;" let us pray to be delivered from this evil of practical unbelief, and then we
shall be aware of, we shall strive against and overcome
all other forms of evil.
IV. If the prayer of the text is not consistent with
a stoical contempt for evil, a mystical abstraction from
it, or an epicurean indulgence in it, then it comports
with a distinct recognition of it, a courageous contact
with it, and a devout'struggle against it; and these elements consist with the Christian idea of evil. He who
fully expresses the significance of this petition, prays
against something which he feels and acknowledges.
He is not wrapped about with any impenetrable robe of
philosophy; he has not drugged his humanity. He confesses its liabilities and its wants. His flesh quivers
with pain. He shrinks from  the piercing wind and the
heat. He deprecates sickness and loss, and "the stings
and arrows of outrageous fortune." He does not presumptuously confront death. He perceives the chastening ministry of these ills, and when they fall upon him
seeks to. improve the discipline; but he does not deny
their essential evil. While his petition consists with a
clear recognition of his responsibility, of the work he
must do in his own behalf, it is mingled with faith in an
instant and universal Providence. While this recoil




180            DELIVER US FROM EVIL.
from adversity is not the expression of cowardice, or hypocondria, it quickens in his heart a large sympathy for
all other men, for they are, like himself, weak, exposed,
suffering. But chiefly does he pray against moral evil,
keenly realizing its influence in his own soul, and its
power throughout the world. Moreover, while he is
aware that this most dreadful wo of all meets him in
every part of the world, springs a snare upon him in
every opportunity, and steals inio his nature through
countless avenues of temptation, he does not seek to extirpate that nature or to fence himself in from that
world. But, rather, in the fields of ordinary life, in the
ever-widening circle of daily duties, he detects the agents
of his moral help, and he prays for holy affections and
firm faith, that, wherever he encounters this manifold
evil, he may disarm it, and drive it away,'and fill its
place with blessings. He does not deny the good there
is in our human lot, and the share we may lawfully have
in the amenities of our lower estate; but he leaps from
the laxity of self-indulgence, he shrinks from drowsy
contact with sin, he beats and strives against it with the
energy of an awakened conscience and the enthusiasm
of a spirtual aim.
This, then, is the idea of evil which blends with the
Christian's prayer-this is a general definition of his
views and his conduct. But, as I close, let me add to




DELIVER US FROM EVIL.             181
this description some specific suggestions which we must
heed if we would consistently utter this petition. First
then, let me distinctly re-iterate the fact that, if we
would truly breathe this prayer, we must realize that
there is a far deeper than any earthly evil. Let us not
fix our ideal of happiness in the gratification of the senses,
in deliverance from temporal ill. Let us remember that
keener than poverty is barreness of soul, that richer than
houses and lands is a spirit fortified against sin. That
no disappointment, loss, hunger, is like a guilty conscience and an alienated heart.
Again; let not the words before us be the only prayer
we use. I mean by this, let us not apply to God merely
in our adversity and our danger. How many there are
who do this, whose whole conception of Religion is that
of a charm or rescue, and is associated only with the
darker phases of human life! This prayer can consistently rise, not from a frightened, but from an habitually
devout spirit, from one who utters and understands all the
sentiments of the Lord's Prayer.
Nor, let this prayer be with us the language of a peevish discontent, or an indolent restlessness. Let us not
be too ready — o say-" Deliver us from evil," as the expression of our desire to escape from the condition in
which we are placed. Let us consider how much of that
evil depends upon our own agency, and that we shall be de16




18f2          DELIVER US FROM EVIL.
livered from it no where without our own effort. That the
ruggedness of our lot, is the noblest opportunity for our endeavor, and that the nature of any circumstances depends
much upon the spirit with which we live among them.
Remember, again, that this is a hopeful petition.
This cry "Deliver us from evil," bursting from the sincere heart of humanity is a call that God hears and has
heard for six-thousand years. It has come from saintly
souls, from true martyrs and reformers-and he has heard
it. It is breathed in all the efforts for human progress,
and he hears it. It is a cry with which the whole creation groaneth and travaileth, and he hears it. However independent our agency may be, let us not forget his
nature and the promise of his help.
And, once more, let us consider thefraternal character of this petition. It does not say-" Deliver me," but
"Deliver us."  Wherever we breathe it, then, whatever
our individual wants, it comprehends with these the needs
and the woes of humanity. Religion always lifts us up
from a narrow selfishness and carries us out into the
universal. Would it not, I ask you, enlarge our thoughtswould it not take us abroad from our own joys and sorrows,
would it not quicken our sense of the brotherhood of the
race,-to reflect from how many postures of humanity
the cry'-" Deliver us from evil," is this moment rising?
Consider that, even as I speak, it circles the round earth




DELIVER US FROM EVIL.            183
and peals up to heaven from  churches and cathedrals,
from sainted closets and family altars, from the philanthropist over his schemes, from the bosom of the tempted,
from the penitent gush of confession, from the sick man
scared by incongruous dreams and waking to the reality
of pain, from  homes whence even the Sabbath's peace
cannot exorcise the gaunt face of poverty, from the muffled arteries of cities jarring with guilt and wo, from the
bleak wilderness where the traveller sinks worn out and
lost, from the ship where the gale is straining the naked
masts and the white waves dash to the shivering stars.
I ask would it not lessen our own sorrows, would it not
quicken our sympathy and our diligence, if we should
breathe this prayer remembering the broad field and the
multiform evil about us, and considering how many with
us are lifting the same cry to heaven?
But on the other hand, let not any expanded hopes or
fraternal sympathies, let not any general application of
this petition, draw us away from its individual purpose.
If we pray against evil in the world at large, let us not
fail to seek its removal from our own souls. If we labor
to drive it from community, let us strive to exorcise it from
our own hearts. For only out of this inward, personal
salvation, can the wide circle of human regeneration
flow. And both by supplication and labor let us exhibit
the true ideal of all prayer. By action and by entreaty
let us continually say —" Deliver us from evil.".








DISCOURSE IX.
"For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, forever. Amen?..-Matthew vi: 13.
THE authenticity of this Doxology is denied by the
best critics, and it is not subjoined to the Lord's Prayer
as found in the Gospel of Luke. It is consecrated, however, by the most ancient usage, and has become so incorporated with the original formula as to share in all
its sacred associations. But, besides this, there is an intrinsic harmony between the ascriptions of the text and
the preceding sentences. They fitly close the prayer,
so that it ends as it begins-with God. They declare
the grounds of our supplication, and of our worship.
And although they may express only what has before
been implied, yet our faith is strengthened and our devotion made more intense by this concentration of our
feelings and this re-collection of our thoughts. In accordance with these suggestions, I propose to occupy a
portion of this discourse with a consideration of the




186          FOR THINE 1I TIlE KINGDOM,
words now before us, and to devote the remainder to
some concluding remarks upon the whole prayer.
"For thine is the Kingdom."  This is the first ascription. And it must be the first, not only here but in
all circumstances. It proclaims the great truth that
there is in the universe a perpetual AUTHORITY and an
all-pervading CONTROL; that in the material and the
spiritual worlds nothing is at loose ends; but everywhere
there is a sacred order, an intelligible tendency, and a
fixed result. And this is the dominion of the Infinite
Creator, Benefactor, and Father.
His is the Kingdom of Nature. In Him is the centre of all its affinities and the secret of its involutions.
Upon Him depend all its orders of being. He touches
its springs. From His hidden depths flows out its universal life. And after all the uses to which man can
compel it, after all the knowledge he can obtain and all
the definitions he can construct, are we not obliged to
say that God's sovereignty is the final interpretation of
nature, and that its profoundest manifestations are the
express witnesses of this? What better can we say
than that "heaven is His throne, and earth His footstool?" that the laws of matter are the stereotyped publications of His will. That the pomp of the seasons,
the out-goings of the morning and the evening, the universal flush of beauty, are the indefinable expressions




THE POWER, AND THE GLORY, FOREVER. AMEN. 187
of His joy? In the catacombs of buried epochs, in
hieroglyphics of rock, we read the archives of his solitary doings when no man was upon the earth. And as
we explore the starry infinitudes around us, as we go
forth among worlds swarming thicker than summer leaves,
and ask-" Why this illimitable splendor, this profusion
of being?" what answer can we obtain except-" Such
is God's will and way?" These are the shining vassals
of his purpose, the burning wheels of His continuous
plan-for His is the Kingdom.
His, too, is the Kingdom of the spiritual world, the
world of moral action, of the individual soul, of all intelligent beings from the angels who cast their crowns at
His feet to the child who springs into life and wonder.
Although man hangs upon the poise of his own moral
nature, and acts in the orbit of his own free-will, the
sphere of his agency is not isolated from God. The infinite Spirit that induces the motion and quickens the
pulses of blind matter, is surely in communion with its
own image and essence. In some way-we cannot pretend to know how —He harmonizes our freedom with
His control. He reigns in the individual soul also, by
the power of motives and the pressure of authority;
those motives being the attractions of absolute Goodness,
and that authority the sovereignty of absolute Right.
And that which is manifest in the individual, is manifest




188         FOR THINE IS THE KINGDOM,
in the race, in its phases, and in its whole career. In
the sanctions of law and government, by which " Kings
reign and princes decree justice;" in the exhibition of a
central stability apparent amid all changes; in the vindication of eternal principles, in the great fact of human
progress; in the silent and unconscious order into which
even the most promiscuous events fall; we detect the
gulf-stream of His Providence, and discover that God
reigns in history.
His Kingdom is in the physical and the spiritual
worlds then. In our grandest sweeps of vision we see
each of these facts, and comprehend the essential unity
of the two. In the calm planet and the falling sparrow,
in the moral awards and unfolding mysteries of human
life, in the breaking waves of ages and the crumbling
of earthly thrones, we realize that there is a universal
and eternal dominion, and only one. It is His to whom
we say —" Thine is the Kingdom;" deriving from that
truth both confidence to pray, and reasons to adore.
And His, also, is the Power. Possessing the dominion, He is able to maintain it. It is His creation; and
He who constructed the universe can control its grand.
est movements and its minutest parts. As there is no
contingency beyond His forethought, so there is no want
beyond His resources. Through all the channels of this
great whole He pours continual sustenance. The phe



THE-POWER, AND THE GLORY, FOREVER. AMEN. 189
nomenon of material Force itself, in the last analysis,
can only be defined as the immediate effect of His contact, the uncoiling energy of His will. And as, apart
from His action, therefore, we cannot form any conception of the essential character of power and motion, we
recognize the sublime truth of the Hebrew axiom, that'Force is God." The feeling of dependence in the soul
of every man is a witness to the same truth. Not only
does He minister to all inferior things, but He refreshes
the springs of our human agency. He gives us our
daily bread by giving us the faculties to obtain it. He
is the Life of all intellect, the Source of all knowledge.
Arnd how often would the soul perish in its moral necessities without His succor and His mercy! And while
this truth should prevent forgetfulness, and keep us humble, it should also soothe and encourage us. Does it not
excite our devotion and strengthen our filial trust, to
look beyond all these circling forms of being to the Almighty deep in which we are embosomed, to the calm
Omnipotence that hems us in, to that spring of original
energy which, gushes in the heart of all things, and thus,
at the close of a prayer in which so many wants have
been expressed, to feel and say-" Oh God! thine is the
Power."
His is the Glory. He who has the Kingdom and the
Power, exercises them for the best ends. All that is




190          FOR THINE IS THE KINGDOM,
needed, all that is good; is His gift. Therefore, let Him
have the praise. Let thanksgiving crown our supplication. Let us continually acknowledge the benefits He
confers. His is the glory, of the works He performs.
When, of old, Moses asked to see that glory, He said —
"I will make all my Goodness pass before thee."  And
that exhibition of His glory is always unfolding to us.
His, too, is the glory of His own intrinsic Excellence,
so that they who see Him the clearest glorify Him
most. The Uncreated is illustrated in all His creation.
That which makes the perpetual noon of heaven, shines
in every ray of earth. That which belongs to the Infinite Spirit is reflected in the soul of man. His is the
glory, inherent, original, and alone. Let us by the fact
that this glory is manifested in works of mercy, be encouraged to ask what we need. Let us rejoice that we
can become conscious of our own spiritual nature in our
adoration of spiritual Excellence, in our privilege of
mingling our worship with the sea of bliss and harmony
that rolls before His throne, and that, at the close of our
feeble, earthly prayer, we may reiterate the strain which
sweeps downward from heaven and fills the universe.
For we too can say-" Thine is the Glory."
And, having thus uttered these ascriptions, we remember that He to whom we render them, possesses
these attributes eternally. He is the unchangeable God.




THE POWER, AND THE GLORY, FOREVER. AMEN. 191
His Kingdom is a never-ending Kingdom. His Power
is exhaustless. His Glory is infinite. In order that
there may be any consistent thought and action, it is
necessary that we should have a conviction of something permanent in the universe; of everlasting being
subsisting as the basis of all these flying phenomena.
In a time like the present especially, when all theories
are set adrift and all questions agitated, how necessary
is it that we should be convinced that there is everlasting Truth. When sceptred authority is broken and
the stability of all government is shaken by the eager
rush of revolution, how much do we need to believe in
an immutable moral control. And while science draws
the veil from the primeval earth, and shows us the wrecks
of successive epochs, and prophecies the funeral-pyre of
suns and systems, how sublime is it to feel the beating
pulses of illimitable Love, to confide in Him to whose
spirit we are allied, and who will maintain us in being
through all material changes. And is it not the bliss and
the miracle of prayer, that it lifts us away from our
sins, our little cares, our teasing wants, and all the mutations of earth, and embosoms us in the communion of
the Eternal. Does it not give strength, and meaning,
and blessedness to our devotions, then, when we say"For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory,
forever."




192          FOR THINE IS THE KINGDOM,
And thus employing these ascriptions as reasons for
our devotion, and reflecting their light back upon the
whole Prayer which we have been considering; seeing
what we have asked, what we have offered, and to
TWhom our devotion has been addressed; let it have the
confirmation of our whole soul-let us seal it with our
solemn "Amen!"
And that the conviction thus expressed may be still
more clearly confirmed, I pass to the second division of
my discourse, for the purpose of offering some general
remarks upon the whole Prayer. I have time, however,
for but two or three specifications, but I earnestly commend this Formula to your own study, that by familiarity with it you may be able to discern characteristics
which I can but imperfectly suggest, or must leave untouched.
I. I would direct your attention to the consistency of
this prayer, to the natural evolution of its sentences. It
is not a promiscuous collection of petitions and ascriptions, but it is an organic whole. One clause follows
the other in a necessary order. This I have shown,
from time to time during the series. But it is a fact
sufficiently important to urge upon your attention
again, and it is more intelligible when the whole Prayer
lies before us. I repeat, then, the succession of topics in
this prayer is a natural one. It accords with our spirit



THE POWER, AND THE GLORY, FOREVER. AMEN. 193
ual experience. Of course I do not maintain that we
can never pray in any other order; for we may at
times take one point in this prayer and dwell almost exclusively upon it. For a season its sentiment may be so
prominent in our souls, that it will come first. But I
am speaking now of this as a model of devotion, and I
say that, as such, it expresses the way in which our devout thoughts and feelings are naturally unfolded.
First of all, we say, "Our Father which art in
heaven." And, surely, belief in God must stand before
every other sentiment. God must be the Being whom
we address. Were there no Deity the idea of prayer
would not exist. But we must have right conceptions
of God; and ere we can say, " Hallowed be thy name,"
we must know what that name is. And having attained
the conception of the Father, this sentiment breaks spontaneously from our hearts, as the expression of'reverent
and filial homage. We heartily desire clearer manifestations of Him, and that we may more consistently honor
Hi-m. But God's name will not be universally hallowed,
until His dominion is universally felt and acknowledged.
In order, then, that He may be known as the Father and
adored as the God of all,-in order that the blessedness
of His rule may extend through all hearts, we pray:
"thy kingdom  come!"  But all devout knowledge
and worship of God, involves a desire that He may
17




194         FOR THINE IS THE KINGDOM,
reign not only as He actually does reign, in the power of
His universal control, but also in the voluntary obedience of His moral offspring. And, moreover, all such
worship and knowledge must consist with effort on our
part to advance that reign. In close connection, then,
with our desire for the coming -of God's Kingdom, we
pray, "thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven;"
for thus we express our conception of the real method
through which His Kingdom must come. This petition
throws us upon our personal responsibility; but while
we know how much we resist the divine will, and therefore how much we ought to do, we perceive in how
many ways that will works irresistibly, and, therefore,
how much we must endure; and we learn that by resignation, as well as by action, may His Kingdom be advanced in our own souls and in the souls of all men.
These great moral desires will rise first in a devout
mind; and those which are more general, springing up
in the contemplation-of God's Excellence, will be uttered
before those which are more private and particular.
But the consideration of God's Will, leads us to remember His power: the consciousness of our freedom
suggests our limitation, and the necessities with which
we struggle; and so we lift one petition for temporal
good, and cry, " Give us this day our daily bread." But
quickly do our material wants suggest our spiritual




THE POWER, AND THE GLORY, FOREVER. AMEN. 195
necessities; quickly do mercies received remind us of
mercies neglected, of our ingratitude and our guilt:
quickly does the hunger of the body illustrate the hunger of the soul, and to our great Benefactor, whom we
have forgotten and disobeyed, we exclaim, "Forgive us
our debts," and learn how essential to the spirit and purpose of this prayer it is that we should "forgive our
debtors." And who that has ever sincerely uttered this
petition for pardon, has not shrunk with fear and shame
from the exposures of the world without and from his
own weakness within, and cried, " Lead us not intoabandon us not to-temptation?" and with a sense of
all his dangers, but especially of the peril in his own
heart, added-" Deliver us from evil?"  Thus having
breathed the sentiments of the soul in a natural order, we
confirm all these utterances by the Doxology. "Accept
this homage," we say, "grant these requests," " For thine
is the Kingdom, the Power, and the Glory; forever,
Amen."
I do not present this as a complete analysis of these
sentences, or as exhibiting every point suggested. I am
aware too that in the diversities of individual feeling and
circumstance, they may have a varied application, but I
make this recapitulation to illustrate the consistency and
mutual relation of the topics in the Prayer; and I believe
that he who breathes it in its essential significance, will




196          FOR THINE IS THE KINGDOM,
generally find that it corresponds to the unfolding of his
spiritual experience, to the order in which devout desires
and feelings rise in his soul.
II. Consider the comprehensiveness of this Prayer.
If it corresponds to the order of our spiritual experience,
then, of course, it must contain all the great requisites
of devotion. And, upon examination, we see that it
does. We might infer this, indeed, from the circumstances under which it was first uttered. It was given as a
model of Prayer. We are told in Luke, that Christ
taught it in compliance with the request of his disciples
— " Lord, teach us how to pray."  And in Matthew, he
says " When ye pray, say, our Father."  As a model,
then, we might expect to find in it all the elements of
devotion. We should not expect to find in it all the
multiform combinations of these elements, or a dilated
expression of them, such as we may need in the experiences of every-day life. Nor are we confined to the
precise words before us. There may be times when we
shall be able to say nothing else. There may be times,
too, when our thoughts are so clear and our desires so
compact, that we find the best vehicle for our devotion
in this literal expression. But they understand but little
of the human spirit in its devout experiences who would
limit it to just these sentences. Certainly, the example
of Christ does not teach this. He prayed as circum



THE POWER, AND THE GLORY, FOREVER. AMEN. 197
stances suggested, or his spirit moved. So is it with us.
There are times when no form will suffice; when it
would restrain and break our devotion; when it would
not give us the relief we need, nor express the burden
of our souls. There are occasions when no litany, however comprehensive in its elements or varied in its applications, can do this, and not even the mere language
in the Lord's Prayer; but the devout sentiment bursting
from the heart, must come fittest to the circumstance,
spontaneously, gushing in a full and unrestricted tide. The
mother by the sick-bed of her child cannot command her
feelings, so as merely to say —" Deliver us from evil."
The famishing man cannot stop short with —" Give us this
day our daily bread." The returning sinner must pour out
his penitence in more words than " Forgive us our debts."
There may be, there will be, circumstances in private
and public devotion, when some particular sentiment in
this Prayer will be longer dwelt upon and more pressingly urged. I am not advocating prolixity in devotion.
I know what Christ says of "much speaking," and of
vain repetitions;" though here evidently he condemns
mere words, vain repetitions;' but no where does he
limit the flow of the earnest spirit to one mold of expression.
But while the precise language of this prayer is not to
be considered as the sole expression of devotion, yet,




198         FOR THINE IS THE KINGDOM,
I repeat, as a model, it contains the essence of all sincere homage and supplication. There is nothing we do
say that is not really implied here. The germs of every
devout thought and desire are in these simple words.
What more can you say of God than to style Him
"Father?" How much better can you express worship than to say —" Hallowed be thy name?" In what
way would you solicit His protection, that would imply more than —" Deliver us from evil?" How can you
ask a higher good for your soul than by saying " Thy
Will be done?" Is not the need for earthly good, expressed in the desire for "daily bread?"  Is not the
heaviest burden we bear relieved, when we sincerely
cry-" Forgive us our debts?"
As a model of devotion, then, it is wonderful how this
Prayer is adjusted to our spiritual experiences, and expresses all our sentiments and desires. Surely, it could
have come only from  one "Who knew what was in
man." And even though fragments of it may be found
in the Jewish liturgies, in its present construction it is
original, and, as such, in its comprehensiveness and
adaptation, it is an illustration and an evidence of Christianity.
But I would have you notice farther, as an instance
of'the comprehensiveness of this Formula, that it really
suggests all the great truths of Religion. Implying




THE POWER, AND THE GLORY, FOREVER. AMEN. 199
the divine mission of Jesus, it proclaims the Existence,
Paternity, and Providence of God, the spiritual nature
of man, his sinfulness and dependence, the doctrines of
repentance and forgiveness, and the brotherhood of the
human race. Of course, we find these and other truths
more distinctly and elaborately stated in other portions
of the Gospel, but are they not essentially contained
here? Heartily believing all that the Lord's Prayer
implies, do we not possess the marrow of Christian
doctrine? If this be so, we might better test the orthodoxy of men by the sincerity with which they utter this
prayer, than by the logical definitions of a creed? For,
language may misrepresent a man's meaning, his reasoning may be confused, but the sentiments he breathes
in true devotion always express his deepest convictions,
and reveal what he is really trying to say by his formulas
and symbols. But if we think that the broad diversities
of opinion which exist among the professed disciples of
Jesus, cannot thus be reconciled, we must at least admit, that the universal usage of this prayer indicates an
essential unity that is more vital than their antagonism.
Whatever their variations of doctrine, it is certain that
this manual is comprehensive enough to consist with
them all, and in it all their differences melt into a common expression.  Through every age of the church
amid the uproar of sects, and the din of controversy,




200          FOR THINE IS THE KINGDOM,
this prayer has gone up as the utterance of one undivided heart; and, when they will hear the beating of
this sweet accordance, all Christians may recognize how
identical are the Sources of their belief, and the Objects of their love. Even now, I repeat, it shows how
closely related at the altar, are men widely separated
by the dogma and the creed.
I will just allude to one more illustration of the comprehensiveness of this Prayer, and pass on to another
topic. I mean its adaptation to different periods and
conditions of human existence.  I have said that it unfolds in the order of man's spiritual experience, but we
must remember that this is an experience of diverse tone
and intensity. While those great conceptions of God
and His government, of need and weakness, of sinfulness and duty, will always animate a sincere utterance
of this Prayer, those conceptions may rise in different
elevations of the human soul, and indicate a greater or
less compass of thought. This is a prayer for all ranks
and conditions. For the multitude on the mountain and
the Rabbi in the synagogue; for the penitent prodigal
and the advanced saint; and it meets and conveys the
experiences of each. The peasant finds in its simple
sentences a vehicle for his homage and his wants, while
the devout philosopher knows no form of utterance so
pregnant. It is the first prayer the mother teaches, the




THE POWER, AND THE GLORY, FOREVER. AMEN. 201
first prayer that falters on the lips of the child; and it
is so easy and so adaptive that he carries it through all
the rough contacts of the world, along with the best
memories of home. And nothing so fit as this can the
man breathe from his lips, to purify his heart, to strengthen his good resolutions, and to confirm his hope, as he
walks through the lengthening shadows and among the
withered leaves, in the autumn of life.
III. Finally; let me urge the argument which this
Prayer presents for devotion and a devout life. By constructing the model, Christ enjoined the habit of prayer,
as he has done elsewhere both by precept and example.
Yet this is not an arbitrary injunction. The form was
made in answer to an earnest desire. But in thus appointing an expression for supplication and homage, Jesus did not merely meet the wants of his immediate disciples, but he has exposed a class of emotions, which,
consciously or vaguely, stir in every human spirit.
Prayer is natural. Every man has in him the elements
of religion; folded up it may be in secularity and sin,
unheeded and forgotten; yet, at times-in some hour of
silent thought, or some shock of Providence-responding like a great deep to the highest realities of being; to
the mysteries of God and immortality, of life and death.
Oh! there is not one so hard, so reckless, drifted away
so utterly from the current of humanity, as never to ex



202          FOR THINE IS THE KINGDOM,
perience blessed desires, and more' than earthly inflnences. There is not one who has not, at some period,
felt the impulse and the necessity of prayer, and lifted
up his cry to God as his helper. But the wonder is
that these seasons are not more common, more habitual;
that, living as we do in contact with the infinite God,
wrapped around by his almighty Spirit, we should not
feel it more. That, considering the magnificence of the
universe about us-the varying loveliness of the day,
the rolling splendors of the night, we should not gladly
seize our privilege to pass within the veil and commune
face to face with the Being who made it all. That,
throbbing with the consciousness of filial dependence,
we should not lean upon the arm of our everlasting
Father. That, knowing our exposures, our follies, and
our faults, we do not seek the succors of His Spirit,
and the shield of His protection.  That, with no intervening meditation, no sense of the invisible God, we
should sink to the embrace of slumber and leap into
the morning light; making our homes but inns of bodily refreshment, and all outside a mart of worldly care;
as though life, embosomed as it is in wonder, breathing
as it does with unseen influences, were but a flow of sensual interests, and "rounded with a sleep."
And yet it is so. Notwithstanding this religious consciousness in men, notwithstanding their spiritual neces



THE POWER, AND THIE GLORY, FOREVER. AMEN. 203
sities which they sometimes feel, there is a common
neglect of devotion and a strange reluctance to engage in
it.  It would occupy more time than it is necessary to
use, to exhibit all the reasons for this disinclination. No
excuse which may be offered for it, will stand an honest
examination for a moment; nay, the very excuse, it is
likely, will only the more demonstrate the necessity for
prayer. Do we plead unworthiness? is not, then, that
petition-" Forgive us our debts," the very thing we
need to utter? Do we fear that our prayers and our
conduct would be inconsistent? will not habitual and
sincere prayer make our best aspirations and our daily
actions more at one? Or are we disposed to associate
the practice of devotion with weakness and ridicule?
Let only one clear thought of the realities involved in
and implied by that practice, break upon us, and it will
solemnize all our future life, and lift it above a trivial
worldliness, and a practical atheism. Never is human
nature so strong as when it leans upon God, never is its
dignity so manifest as when man "bursts into the infinite
and kneels."
Or, it may be said —" It is not true prayer that we
neglect or dislike; but it is formality, it is superstitious
observance, it is Phariseeism and cant," Of a deadening formality it is well for us to beware. We cannot
too constantly remember that prayer is a spirit not a




204          FOR THINE IS THE KINGDOM,
form.  It is not essentially a motion of the lips but of
the soul.  It does not consist in articulate words but in
earnest desires. And thus, no doubt, every heartfelt
sentiment, expressed or unexpressed, may be a prayer.
No doubt every diligent endeavor is one; and, in this
sense, the husbandman prays when he turns up the furrows to the spring rains; in this sense the philosopher
prays when he seeks after some great truth. But this
is not the whole idea of prayer. For that is the conscious communion of our spirits with God's. It is the
concentration of our souls in a special act. Not confined to words but often expressed in words; not limited
to times and places, but assisted by these, and without
some attention to these not likely to be exercised at all.
Let us beware of all cant, too. Let us have no forced
looks, no unreasonable constraints. Let us cherish the
loftiest spiritual moods we may, and feel that everywhere and at all seasons, and in the most silent breathings of the soul, we can pray; but surely we must see
that set times and vocal utterances are very efficient in
producing such spiritual and habitual devotion; and
therefore we have such a manual as the Lord's Prayer.
But there is a skeptical objection to prayer which it
will be well to notice here, especially as it may help explain that reluctance to which I am now alluding. It is
sometimes said-" What is the use of Prayer? Does




THE POWER, AND THE GLORY, FOREVER. AMEN. 205
it change God? Does it alter the laws of nature?"
Nlow there are several answers to this interrogatory objection. In the first place, as I have shown, prayer is
really a necessity of our nature, an instinctive impulse
of the human soul towards God. This alone is an evidence that it has a use. It has been employed in all
ages and in all lands, and nothing so instinctive and
universal exists without a meaning and an end. Again,
Prayer has a beneficial operation upon ourselves. Surely,
I need not dwell upon illustrations of this-upon the
benefit of communion with the best Being in the universe, upon the strength imparted by the exercise of
faith which prayer implies, upon the practical blessedness
of that spirit of forgiveness and penitence which we
breathe.  However much we may sink or go astray,
prayer always lifts us to a higher mood, and sets our
feet in the right path. If we habitually and sincerely
utter it, it will transform and sanctify our lives.
But I deny the force of the argument suggested in the
proposition that prayer cannot change God, nor alter
the laws of nature. I do not say that prayer can effect
either of these results. But I do say that a direct answer to prayer from God does not imply any change in
Him, nor in His ordinances; but simply that in prayer
a certain instrumentality is used upon the exercise of
which certain results will follow, which would not ensue
18




206         FOR THINE IS THE KINGDOM,
without the use of this instrumentality. If a man should
pray that a harvest may spring up without any seed, he
would utter a prayer to which he could not expect an
answer. But who shall say that his prayer is not directly answered when he asks for ability to sow the
seed? Who can determine the mysterious methods by
which strength is imparted? Now it is an ordinance of
God that the harvest shall depend upon the sowing of
seed. If that instrumentality is not employed no result
follows. But, still, the possibilities all exist whether the
means are used or not. And should it have so happened
that man had sowed the seed but once, contrary to all
human experience, past and future, a harvest would have
sprung up. But would this unusual fact have violated
any law of nature? Certainly not. The strange result
would have indicated simply a compliance with established terms, which compliance had not been previously
rendered. So is it, as I conceive, with prayer. It is a
spiritual instrumentality upon the employment of which
certain results are contingent. And that God should
grant peculiar and direct blessings upon the touching of
that one spring, which He will give in no other way, is
no more miraculous than that He should give the harvest when the seed is sown. To say that He grants
answers to prayer as well as to labor, is only saying that
man works with God and God with man in more ways




THE POTWER, AND TilE GL(O1,R, FOIt REVER. AMEN. 207
than one. How He answers prayer is a mystery, but
it is no more a mystery than the process which converts
the kernel into the full corn in the ear than the connection between thought and action —than the existence
of God and the methods of His communication with the
human soul.
But, after all, those who really cherish the spirit of.
devotion, find the best answer to all these cavils. Theii
immortal desires, their ever-recurring wants, their con.
scious weakness, is a sufficient argument for Prayer.
Let us look into our own souls and we shall find it so.
Let us consider all our condition, and heed the great
suggestion to devotion which Christ has given us!
But I said not only that this prayer affords an argument for devotion, but for a devout life.  This is no
more than a reiteration of what I have frequently said
in the delivery of these discourses; no more than a repetition of the truth that true prayer consists in action
as well as aspiration. If the sincere utterance of these
devout sentiments is necessary to all good conduct,
neither can we consistently utter-it without endeavoring
to conform our conduct to its sentiments.
And consider, I beseech you, what must be the effect
if we carry out the spirit of this prayer. If we should
live in and from that spirit, how would life, and duty,
and our fellow-men, and our souls, and God appear to




208          FOR THINE IS-THE KINGDOM,
us?  If this Prayer expresses the true order of al.
spiritual experience; if it comprehends all the great
truths of Religion; then does it contain all the elements
of a good life. And as I now draw these discourses to
a close which for so many Sabbath evenings have required my labor and your attention, I know not that I
could make a more fitting appeal than to urge you so to 
study this prayer as to understand it, so to understand it
as to heartily and daily breathe its sentiments, so to
breathe its sentiments as to make them living springs of
action in your souls, as to re-present them in all youi
lives. This is no more than exhorting you to live as
Christians and not as Atheists; to live as heirs of immortality not as mere creatures of time; to live not as
animals but as children of God. To that result may He
sanctify this series of discourses! To that result may
He crown them with His blessing!
As I finish this work, I remember that this is the day
on which the old Church celebrates with peculiar honor
the Resurrection of Jesus. As though it were a new
truth, the bells of Easter morning have pealed round
the world the glad announcement that he who had
slept in the bosom of the earth, at early dawn withdrew
the eclipse of death, and broke forth from the sepulchre
-the Lord of Life and Glory. And as the mighty
declaration echoes in our ears, and our torpid worldliness




THE POWER, AND THE GLORY, FOREVER. AMEN. 209
is shaken, by the rush of angel's feet, is it not indeed
like a new truth to realize by this Resurrection, that
we too shall live forever? That the shadows which fled
from the Savior's tomb were as the vails of our own
mortality vanishing in the light of God?
If this be so, then let us live no more in shadows but
in realities. Let the Prayer that Christ taught us, and
which we so often need among the broken passages of
life, foretoken the verities and lift us to the communion
of heaven!