THE
GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL
ILLUSTRATED IN
A SERIES OF DISCOURSES.
BY THE
REV. THOMAS GUTHRIE, D.D.
EDINBUR GH.
AUTHOR OF " PLEAS FOR RAGGED SOHOOLS" ETO;
NEW YORK:
ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS,
No. 530 BROADWAY.
1857.




STEREOTYPED BY                                        PRINTED BT
THOMAS B. SMITH,                                GROSSMAN AND WILLETT,
82 & 84 Beekman Street.                              82 & 84 Beekman St.




TO THE
REV. WILLIAM HANNA, LL. D.
To you, my dear Sir, I dedicate these Discourses,
the substance of which was preached to our Congregation, not so much as an expression of my high
admiration of the genius and talents which you have
consecrated to the cause of our common Lord, as a
mark of the warm affection which I cherish for you,
and of the kind, cordial, and most happy intercourse
which we have enjoyed since our union as colleagues
and pastors of the same flock.
THOMAS GUTHRIE.








CONTENTS.
PAGE
I. THE MESSENGER.............*.I.....**........  1
IL THE DEFILE............................... 21
III. MAN  SINNING....................................  89
IV. MAN SUFFERING...........................   56
V. GOD'S PUNITIVE JUSTICE..................i...*....  73
VI. GOD'S MOTIVE IN SALVATION... **..**...*.**** e* e**  91
VII MAN AN OBJECT OF DIVINE MERCY.................... 107
VIIL GoD GLORIFIED IN REDEMPTION...................... 12'
IX. THE WISDOM AND HOLINESS OF GOD ILLUSTRATED IN SALVATION..................................  *   139
X. THE MERCY OF GOD ILLUSTRATED IN SALVATION........ 1564
XI. THE BENEFITS FLOWING FROM REDEMPTION............ 171
XII. MAN JUSTIFIED................................. 189
XIII. MAN JUSTIFIED THROUGH THE RIGHTEOUSNESS OF JESUS
CHRIST 2.................. e207
XIV. MAN CONVERTED.........................    228
XV. THE HEART OF STONIE.............................  247




vi                     CONTE:NTS.
PAGE
XVI. THE NEW HEART.........................             264
XVII. THE RENOVATOR................................... 288
XVIII. THE NEW LIFE.................................. 303
XIX. THE NEW LIFE-continued......................... 320
XX. THE NATURE, NECESSITY, AND POWER OF PRAYER...... 340
XXI. THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE SAINTS..................  362
XXIL THE SECURITY OF THE BELIEVER................*  3




THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
Moreover, the word of the Lord came unto me, saying, Son of man.EZEKIEL XXXVi. 16, 17.
HAVING scattered over an open field the bones of
the human body, bring an anatomist to the scene.
Conduct him to the valley where Ezekiel stood, with
his eye on the skulls and dismembered skeletons of an
unburied host. Observe the man of science how he
fits bone to bone and part to part, till from those scattered members he constructs a framework, which,
apart from our horror at the eyeless sockets and flesh
less form, appears perfectly, divinely beautiful. In
hands which have the patience to collect, and the skill
to arrange these materials, how perfectly they fit!
bone to bone, and joint to joint, till the whole figure
rises to the polished dome, and the dumb skeleton
seems to say, "I am fearfully and wonderfully made.'
Now as with these parts of the human frame, so is it
with the doctrines of the Gospel, in so far as they are
intelligible to our understandings. Scattered over the
pages of sacred Scripture, let them also be collected
and arranged in systematic order, and how beautifully
they fit! doctrine to doctrine, duty to duty; till, all
connected with each other, all "members one of an



2            THRI GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
other," they rise up into a form of perfect symmetry,
and present that very system which, with minor differences but substantial unity, is embodied in the confessions, creeds, and catechisms of Evangelical Christ'
endom. I have said, so far as they are intelligible to
us; for it is ever to be borne in mind, that while the
Gospel has shallows through which a child may wade
and walk on his way to heaven, it has deep, dark, unfathomed pools, which no eye can penetrate, and where
the first step takes a giant beyond his depth.
There is a difference, which even childhood may
discern, between the manner in which the doctrines
and duties of the Gospel are set forth in the Word of
God, and their more formal arrangement in our catechisms and confessions. They are scattered here and
there over the face of Scripture, much as the plants
of nature are upon the surface of the globe. There,
for example, we meet with nothing corresponding to
the formal order, systematic classification, and rectangular beds of a botanical garden; on the contrary, the
creations of the vegetable kingdom lie mingled in
what, although beautiful, seems to be wild confusion.
Within the limits of the same moor or meadow the
naturalist gathers grasses of many forms, he finds it
enamelled with flowers of every hue; and in those
forests which have been planted by the hand of God,
and beneath whose deep shades man still walks in
rude and savage freedom, trees of every form and foliage stand side by side like brothers. With the Sabbath hills around us, far from the dust and din, the
splendor and squalor of the city, we have sat on a
rocky bank, to wonder at the varied and rich profusion with which God had clothed the scene. Nature,
lke Joseph, was dressed in a coat of many colors



THE MESSENGER.                3
lichens, gray, black and yellow, clad the rock; the
glossy ivy, like a child of ambition, had planted its
foot on the crag, and, hanging on by a hundred arms,
had climbed to its stormy summit; mosses, of hues
surpassing all the colors of the loom, spread an elastic
carpet round the gushing fountain; the wild thyme
lent a bed to the weary, and its perfume to the air;
heaths opened their blushing bosoms to the bee; the
primrose, like modesty shrinking from observation,
looked out from its leafy shade; at the foot of the
weathered stone the fern raised its plumes, and on its
summit the foxglove rang his beautiful bells; while
the birch bent to kiss the stream, as it ran away laughing to hide itself in the lake below, or stretched out
her arms to embrace the mountain ash and evergreen
pine. By a very slight exercise of fancy, in such a
scene one could see Nature engaged in her adorations,
and hear her singing, "The earth is full of the glory
of God." " How manifold are thy works, Lord God
Almighty! in wisdom thou hast made them all."
Now, although over the whole surface of our globe,
as in that spot, plants of all forms and families seem
confusedly scattered, amid this apparent disorder the
eye of science discovers a perfect system in the floral
kingdom; and just as-although God has certainly
scattered these forms over the face of nature without
apparent arrangement-there is a botanical system, so
there is as certainly a theological system, although its
doctrines and duties are not classified in the Bible according to dogmatic rules. Does it not appear from
this circumstance, that God intended his Word to be
a subject of study as well as faith, and that man should
find in its saving pages a field for the exercise of his
highest faculties?  We are commanded to compare




4            THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
" spiritual things with spiritual;" we are to "search
the Scriptures," to dig for their treasures, to dive for
the pearls. Hence the prayer of David, "Give me
understanding, that I may learn thy commandments."
While the trees and flowers that clothe the fields
of nature are scattered without much apparent order
over the wide surface of the earth, still there are mountain regions lying within the tropics, where, in the
course of a single day, the traveler may find laid out
in regular arrangement, every vegetable form peculiar
to every line of latitude between the equator and the
poles. Leaving the palms which cover the mountain's feet, he ascends into the regions of the olive;
from these, to a more temperate climate, where the
vine festoons the trees, or trails its limbs along the
naked rock; still ascending, he next reaches a belt of
oaks and chestnuts; from that he passes to heights
shaggy with the hardy pine; by and by, he enters a
region where trees are dwarfed into bushes; rising
above that, his foot presses a carpet of lowly mosses;
till, climbing the rocks where only the lichen lives,
he leaves all life beneath him; and now, shivering in
the cold, panting in the thin air for breath, he stands
on those dreary elevations, where eternal winter sits
on a throne of snow, and, waving her icy scepter, says
to vegetation, " Hither shalt thou come, and no farther."  Like some such lofty mountain of the tropics,
there are portions of the Divine Word,. where, in a
space also of limited extent-within the short compass
of a chapter, or even part of it-the more prominent
doctrines of Salvation are brought into juxtaposition,
and set side by side, almost in systematic order.
This chapter offers to our attention one of the most




THE MESSENGER.               5
remarkable of these; and in illustration of that, I remarkI. That this portion of Scripture, extending onwards
from the 16th verse, presents an epitome or outline of
the Gospel.
Its details, with their varied beauties, are here, so
to speak, in shade; but the grand truths of redemption stand boldly up, much as we have seen from sea
the lofty headlands of a dim and distant coast. We
are aware that the Mosaic economy, and many of
God's dealings with his ancient people, were but the
shadows of good things to come; and that, when the
things are come, as come they certainly are, you may
meet us on the very threshold with this question,
Why look at the shadow when you possess the substance? However valued in his absence the portrait
of a son may be, what mother, when he is folded in
her arms, and she has his living face to look on, turns
to the picture? What artist studies a subject in twilight, when he may see it in the blaze of day? True
-true at least in general. Yet such study has its
advantages. It not seldom happens that a portrait
brings to view some shade of expression which we
had not previously observed in the face of the veritable man; and when some magnificent form of architecture, or the serried ridges and rocky needles of a
mountain, have stood up between us and the last lights
of day, we have found, that although the details, the
minor beauties, of fluted columns or frowning crags
were lost in the shades of evening, yet, drawn in sharp
and simple outline against a twilight sky, the effect of
the whole was more impressive then when eyed in the
glare of day.




6           THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
Thus it may be well, occasionally at least, to exam.
ine the Gospel in the broad shadows and strongly
defined outlines of an old economy; and through God's
government of his ancient people, to study the motives, the nature, and the ends of his dealings with
ourselves. In this way the passage before us has pe
culiar claims upon our attention. Applicable, in the
first instance, to the condition of the Jews, it presents
a remarkable summary of Gospel doctrines, and that
in a form approaching at least to systematic order.
In the 17th verse, we have man sinning-" Son of
man, when the house of Israel dwelt in their own
land, they defiled it by their own way, and by their
doings."
In the 18th verse, we have man suffering-"Wherefore I poured my fury upon them."
In the 21st verse, man appears an object of mercy"but I had pity."
In the 22d verse, man is an object of free mercymercy without merit-" I do not this for your sakes,
0, house of Israel."
In the 24th verse, man's salvation is resolved on"I will bring you into your own land."
In the 25th verse, man is justified-" Then will I
sprinkle clean water upon you, and ye shall be clean."
In the 26th and 27th verses, man is renewed and
sanctified-" A new heart also will I give you, and a
new spirit will I put within you; and I will take
away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give
you an heart of flesh. And I will put my spirit within
you, and cause you to walk in my statutes, and ye
shall keep my judgments, and do them."
In the 28th verse, man is restored to the place and
privileges which he forfeited by his sins-" Ye shall




THE MESSSENGER.               7
be my people, and I will be your God." " This land
that was desolate, is become like the garden of the
Lord." We have our security for these blessings in
the assurance of the 36th verse —"I the Lord have
spoken it, and I will do it;" and the means of obtaining them in the declaration of the 37th verse-" I will
yet for this be enquired of by the house of Israel, to
do it for them."
Such is the wide and interesting field that lies before
us. But before entering upon it, let us considerII. The party who is commissioned to deliver God's
message.
Who, what is this ambassador of Heaven?   An
angel? No; but a man. "Son of man," says the
Lord. In the first verse of this chapter he says —"Son
of man, prophesy unto the mountains." In the 3d
verse of the following one he asks —" Son of man,
can these bones live?" Again, in the 9th verse of the
same chapter, he says-" Son of man, prophesy unto
the wind." And, still addressing him by the same
title, in the 11th verse, he tells the prophet-" Son of
man, these bones are the whole house of Israel." By
this title Ezekiel is so often addressed, " Son of man,"
"Son of man," is so constantly sounded both in his
ears and ours, that it forces on our attention this remarkable fact, that God deals with man through the
instrumentality of man, and by men communicates
his will to men. The rain which descends from heaven
falls upon the surface of our earth, sinks through the
porous soil, and, flowing along rocky fissures or veins
of sand, is conveyed below ground to the fountain
whence it springs. Now, although out of the earth,
that water is not "of the earth, earthy." The world's




8           THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL,
deepest well owes its treasures to the skies. So it was
with the revealed will of God. It flowed along human channels, yet its origin was more than celestialit was divine. Those waters, at whose springs Faith
drinks and lives, while conveyed to man through the
instrumentality of man, had their source far away in
the throne of God; their fountain-head is the Godhead.
No doubt, God could have used other instrumentality.
He might have commissioned angels on his errands of
mercy, and spoke at all times, as he did sometimes, by
their lips. With rare exceptions, however, his ambassadors were men. The patriarchs, prophets, and
apostles, by whom in days of old he revealed his willthose missionaries of heaven-were all sons of man.
Now in this arrangement observe, in the first placeThe kindness of God to man.  Who has read the
story of Moses without feeling that it was a great kindness, both to him and his mother, that he had a mother's bosom to lie on-that God in his providence so
arranged matters that the mother was hired to be the
nurse of her son? who else would have treated the
outcast so lovingly and kindly? And I hold it a
singular kindness to man that he is selected to be the
instrument of saving his fellow-men. The God of salvation, the author and finisher of our faith, might have
arranged it otherwise. "Who shall limit the Holy
One of Israel?" The field is the world; and as the
husbandman ploughs his fields and sows his seed in
spring by the very hands that bind the sheaves of
autumn, God might have sent those angels to sow the
Gospel, who shall descend at judgment to reap the
harvest. But although these blessed and benevolent
spirits take a lively interest in the work, and are
sent forth to minister to them that are heirs of salva



THE MESSENGER.                9
tion-although watching from on high the progress of
the Redeemer's cause, they rejoice in each new jewel
that is added to his crown, and in every new province
that is won for his kingdom; and although there be
more joy even in heaven than on earth when man is
saved-a higher joy among these angels "over one
sinner that repenteth than over ninety and nine just
persons"-yet theirs is little more than the pleasure
of spectators. Theirs is the joy of those who, occupying the shore, or crowded on its heights, with eager
eyes and beating heart follow the bold swimmer's
movements, and watching his head as it rises and sinks
among the waves, see him near the drowning child,
and pluck its half-drowned prey from the billow;
and, still trembling lest strength should fail him, look
on with anxious hearts, till, buffeting his way back,
he reaches the strand, and amid their shouts and sympathies restores her boy to the arms of a fainting
mother.
To man, however, in salvation, it is given to share,
not a spectator's but a Saviour's joy; and with his
lips at least to taste the cup for which Jesus endured
the cross and despised the shame.  If that parent is
happy who snatches a child from the flood or fire, and
the child, thus saved, and twice given him, becomes
doubly dear, what happiness in purity or permanence
to be compared with his, who is a laborer with God
in saving souls? Let me invite you to share in these
pleasures, the sweetest, I assure you, out of heaven.
This is a privilege and a pleasure free to all. It is
one which kings cannot purchase, and yet beggars
may enjoy; and one also (and what more could be
said of it?) which enhances the joy of heaven. While
every saint shall have one heaven, some shall have




10          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
more; those who have helped to fill its mansions shall
possess many heavens in one. In proportion to the
number they have brought to Christ, they shall multiply their joys-the joys which eye hath not seen,
nor ear heard, and which entereth not into the heart
of man to conceive. In this arrangement I observe
againThe honor conferred on man. Did Moses occupy a
noble position when he stood aloft on a rock amid
the dying Israelites, and there, the central figure of
the camp, on whom all eyes were turned, raised that
serpent, to look on which was life? Nobler still his
attitude and office, who, with his foot on this dying
world, lifts up the cross-" Jesus Christ and him
crucified"-that, whosoever looketh and believeth on
him, might not perish, but have everlasting life. Give
me the bleeding Saviour, make me the instrument of
converting a single soul, and I grudge not Moses his
" piece of brass;" nor envy him the honor of saving
a thousand lives, that are now all quenched in death.
Great honor to the memory of the mighty men who
swept like a hurricane through the camp of the Philistines, and, cleaving their way through opposing foes,
drew the water of Bethlehem for their king; yet,
rather than be one of David's mighty men, it would
content me to be one of Christ's- humblest, and hold
the cup of life to a pauper's lips. All honor to the
prophet who went up.to heaven in a chariot of fire;
but nobler still his departure, who, as he ascends to
glory, leaves spiritual sons behind him to weep by the
cast-off mantle of his flesh, and cry, "My father, my
father, the chariots of Israel and the horsemen thereof!"
What honors does this world offer? what stars, what
jeweled honours flash on her swelling breast, to be




THE MESSENGER.              11
for one moment compared with those which they win
on earth, and wear in heaven, who have turned souls
from darkness to light-from the cursed power of Satan
to the living God? Each soul a gem in their crown,
they that have turned many to righteousness shall
shine with the brightness of the firmament, as the stars,
for ever and ever. How has the hope of this touched,
as with fire, the preacher's lips, sustained his heart,
held up prayer's weary hands, and proved an ample
recompense for those scanty rewards which God's servants too often received at the hands of men, for the
penury which has embittered, and the hardships which
have pressed on their lot! Their master was rejected
and despised of men-a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief, and the disciple being no better than
his Lord, they have shared in his sufferings. But, if
fellow-sufferers, they are fellow-laborers with Christhis associates in the noblest work beneath the sun.
Despised as the teacher of the Gospel may be, the
apostle raises him to an eminence from which he may
contemplate this world, with all its grandeur and glory,
rolling away into dark oblivion. Viewed in the light
of eternity, the church stands on a loftier elevation
than the palace, and the pulpit offers man a grander
position than the throne of empires. To ministers
of the Gospel belongs the high pre-eminence of being
able to say, "' we are fellow-laborers with God;" and,
with such an associate-in such lofty company, devoting his life to such a cause-no wonder that Paul confronted a skeptic, sneering, scoffing world, and bravely
said, I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ."
I am anxious that you should understand that the
honors that I have spoken of are not reserved for
pulpits. The youth who, finding Sabbath rest in Chris



12           THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
tian labors, holds his Sabbath-class; the mother, with
her children grouped around her, sweet solemnity
sitting in her face, and the Bible resting on her knee;
the friend who deals faithfully with another's soul;
any man who kindly takes a poor sinner by the hand,
and seeking to conduct him to the Saviour, says, "Come
with us, and we will do you good;" "Arise, for we have
seen the land, and behold it is very good;" these, not less
than ministers of the Gospel, are fellow-laborers with
God. Think not that this noblest work is our exclusive privilege, nor stand back as if you had neither
right nor call to set to your hand. What although
in the church you hold no rank? No more does the
private who wears neither stripes on his arm nor
epaulettes on his shoulder; but although a private,
may he not die for the colors which it is not his
privilege to carry? If it is not his business to train
recruits, it is his business, and shall be his reward to
enlist them. Now to this office, to recruit the ranks
of the cross, the Gospel calls you-calls all-calls the
meanest soldier in the army of the faith. " The Spirit
and the bride say come." But more than they should
call. Where sinners are perishing, where opportunity
offers, where a door is open, where the rule, "Let all
things be done decently and in order," is not outraged
and violated-call it preaching if you choose, but in
God's name let hearers preach. Has God gifted any
with power to speak of Christ? Then, with such high
interests at stake, from forms which churches, not their
Head-man, not God, has established, we say, "loose
him and let him go." " Let him that heareth say come,
and let him that is athirst come; and whosoever will,
let him take of the water of life freely."
Thou art a "son of man:" you bear the prophet's title,




THE MESSENGER.              13
whatsoever otherwise you may be. Let me call you
to the prophet's office. The Master hath need —much
need of you. Thousands, tens of thousands, are dying
in their sins. Although every minister were as a
flaming fire in the service of his God, every bishop were
a Latimer, every reformer were a Knox, every preacher were a Whitefield, every missionary were a Martyn,
the work is greater than ministers can accomplish;
and if men will not submit that the interests of nations
and the success of armies shall be sacrificed to routine
and forms of office, much less should these be tolerated
where the cause of souls is at stake. I say, therefore,
to every Christian, "the Master hath need" of you.
Take a living, loving interest in souls. Don't leave
them to perish. It may be the duty of others permanently and formally to instruct, but it is yours
to enlist. "This honor have all his saints." And in
attempting to engage you in the work at least of enlisting others, and of recruiting, out of your family,
and friends, and neighborhood, the armies of the
faith, I call you to a work in which every man may
bear his share, and one which offers honor as exalted
as its pleasures are pure. It was no honor to Elijah
to gird up his loins, and with the storm at his back to
run abreast of the smoking horses of Ahab's chariot.
Considering who the parties were, it had been as meet,
I think, that the king should have run and the prophet ridden. But to run by the chariot where Jesus sits,
his crown on his head, his bow in his hand, and his
sword by his thigh; to employ our feet in offices
that have employed angels' wings; to bear the news
of mercy to a dying sinner; and to gather crowds
around the Saviour, that they may strew his path
with palms, and swell the song of Hosanna to the Son




14          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
of David-for such a work a king might cast off robes
and crown.
Yes-I think that he would not demean, but rather dignify his office, who should descend from a
throne where subjects kneel, to bend his knee before
God by a peasant's bed, or leave his palace for a cell,
to watch, and weep, and pray with one whom crime
had consigned to death. And, as surely as yon planet worlds that roll and shine above us draw radiance
from the sun around which they move, so surely shall
they shine who spend and are spent in Jesus' service;
they shall share his honors, and shine in his luster.
The man, however lowly his condition, who, some
way between his cradle and the tomb, has converted
even one soul to God, has not lived in vain, nor labored for nought; but has achieved a great work.
He may be well content to go down into the grave by
men unpraised, by the world unknown. His works,
if they have not preceded, shall follow him; and needing no tablet raised among mouldering bones and
tombstones, he has a monument to his memory, where
there are neither griefs nor graves, more costly than
brass or marble. Others may have filled the world
with the breath of their name; he has helped to fill
heaven. Others may have won an earthly renown;
but he who, one himself, has sought to make others
Christians-who, reaching the rock himself, draws
another, a perishing child, brother, friend, neighbor,
up-plucked from the flood himself, pulls another out
-who has leaped into the depths that he might rise
with a pearl, and set it lustrous in Jesus' crown-he
is the man who shall wear heaven's brightest honors,
and to whom, before all else, the Lord will say, "Well
done, good and faithful servant, enter thou into the




THE MESSENGER.              15
joy of thy Lord." Weak in yourselves, but strong in
God, go forth on this enterprise, your prayer the wish
of Brainerd, "Oh that I were a flaming fire in the
service of my God!" In this arrangement we see,
lastly,
1The wisdom of God. However highly gifted he may
otherwise be, it is a valid objection to a preacher, that
he does not feel what he says; that spoils more than
his oratory. An obscure man rose up to address the
French Convention. At the close of his oration, Mirabeau, the giant genius of the Revolution, turned
round to his neighbor, and eagerly asked, Who is
that? The other, who had been in no way interested
by the address, wondered at Mirabeau's curiosity.
Whereupon the latter said, That man will yet act a
great part; and, asked to explain himself, added, he
speaks as one who believes every word he says.
Much of pulpit power under God depends on thatadmits of that explanation, or one allied to it. They
make others feel who feel themselves. How can he
plead for souls who does not know the value of his
own? How can he recommend a Saviour to others
who himself personally despises and rejects him? Unhappy indeed, and doubly blind those whose leader is
as blind as they are; and unhappiest of all the blind
preacher; for while leader and led shall fall into the
ditch, he falls undermost-his the heaviest condemnation, the deepest and most damned perdition. In possession of such a man-of one who has adopted the
church as other men the law, or army, or navy, as a
mere profession, and goes through the routine of its
duties with the coldness of an official-the pulpit
seems filled with the ghastly form of a skeleton, that
in its cold and bony fingers holds a burning lamp.




16          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
It is true that a man may impart light to others
who does not himself see the light. It is true that,
like a concave speculum  cut from a block of ice,
which, concentrating the rays of the sun, kindles
touchwood or gunpowder, a preacher may kindle fire
in others, when his own heart is cold as frost. It is
also true that he may stand like a finger-post on a
road, where he neither leads nor follows; and God
may thus in his sovereign mercy bless others by one
who is himself unblessed. Yet commonly it happens,
that it is what comes from the heart of preachers that
reaches the heart of hearers. Like a ball red hot from
the cannon's mouth, he must burn himself who would
set others on fire. Still, although the ministry of men
who are themselves strangers to piety-although a
Judas or Simon Magus in office-is an evil to which
the church, in every age and under every form of government, stands more or less exposed, it were a poor
refuge to seek exemption from such an evil, even in
the ministry of angels; because, while man may not
feel what he preaches, angels could not. How could
they? They never felt the stings of conscience; they
never hung over hell's fiery gulf, and saw the narrow
ledge they stood on crumbling away beneath their
feet, and sent up to heaven the piercing cry, "' Lord,
save me, I perish;" they never felt the power and peace
of Jesus' blood; pursued by a storm of wrath, they
never flew to the Rock of Ages, and folded their
wings in the sweet and safe serenity of its welcome
clefts; they never thirsted for salvation; in an agony
for pardon, they never felt ready to give a thousand
worlds for one Christ; they never, as we have done,
trod the valley of humiliation, and walked with bleeding feet and weeping eyes its flinty path; they never




THE MESSENGER.               17
knew what it is, between them and their home in
heaven, to see death's gloomy passage, and, more appalling still, a sight which makes the saint grasp his
sword with a firmer hand, and lift up his shield on
high-Satan, the enemy, posted there, and striding
across the passage to dispute the way-never knowing what it is to have been in bondage, having neither country nor kindred here, how could they preach
like Paul? how could their bosoms burn with this
apostolic fire-" I could wish that I myself were accursed from Christ for my brethren, my kinsmen according to the flesh?"
We have somewhere read of a traveler who stood
one day beside the cages of some birds, that, exposed
for sale, ruffled their sunny plumage on the wires, and
struggled to be free. A way-worn and sun-browned
man, like one returned from foreign lands, he looked
wistfully and sadly on these captives, till tears started
in his eye, and turning round on their owner, he asked
the price of one, paid it in strange gold, and opening
the cage set the prisoner free; and thus and thus he
did withcaptive after captive, till every bird was away,
soaring to the skies and singing on the wings of liberty.
The crowd stared and stood amazed; they thought
him mad, till to the question of their curiosity he
replied-" I was once myself a captive; I know the
sweets of liberty." And so they who have experience
of guilt, have felt the serpent's bite, the burning poison
in their veins, who on the one hand have felt the sting
of conscience, and on the other the peace of faith,
the joys of hope, the love, the light, the liberty, the
life, that are found in Jesus-they, not excepting
heaven's highest angels, are the fittest to preach a
Saviour, to plead with man for God, or plead with God




18          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
for man. Each Sabbath morning the gates of heaven
might have opened, and, sent by God on a mission
worthy of seraphic fire, an angel might have lighted
down upon this sanctuary, and, flying into the pulpit,
when he had folded his wings and used them to vail
his glory, he might have taken up the wondrous theme
of salvation and the cross.  No angel would leave
heaven to be a king and fill a throne; but, I believe,
were it God's will, there is no angel there but would
hold himself honored to be a preacher and fill a pulpit. Another and very different messenger appearsa frail, dying, sinful man-one who is bone of your
bone, and flesh of your flesh; and if his humanity
made Jesus the better Saviour, it makes his servants the
better ambassadors, that they also are touched with
their people's infirmities, and are made in all points
like as they are, and especially in this point, that we
cannot add, " yet without sin."
It is true that in us the instrument which God
employs is in itself a humble one-in itself worthy
neither of honor nor respect: the treasure is committed to earthen vessels, sometimes of the rudest form
and the coarsest clay. What of that? If the letter
from a foreign land brings good tidings of his son,
does the father quarrel with the meanness of the paper? While tears of joy and gratitude drop on the
page, does he so much as notice it? If the dish offers
safe or savory meat, a starving man enjoys it none the
less that it is not served up on gold or porcelain. An
ointment worthy of the Master's head, and exhaling
odors that fill the house, is as welcome from a sinner's
as an angel's hand-from a vessel of the poorest earth
as of the purest alabaster. Even so will saving truth
be to you, if God's people. Without turning him into




THE MESSENGER.               19
an idol, and giving the honor to the servant which is
due to the Master, I am sure you will respect the servant for his Master's sake. Are some of you yet
sinners in the gall of bitterness and bond of iniquity?
Because we are ourselves sinners, and know what it
is to have been captives, we are the fitter to address
you. We know that you are not happy, nor can be
happy in sin; its pleasures perish in the using, and
pain in the recollection; and it is madness, the height
of madness-for a man to stake eternity on the chances
of a to-morrow, and purchase sin's short-lived joys at
the expense of eternal happiness. We know that out
of Christ, as you have no safety, you can find no true
peace. "There is no peace, saith my God, to the
wicked;" "they are like the troubled sea which cannot rest;" in storms a raging ocean, and in summer's
serenest day ebbing or flowing, and breaking its billows, like the world's joys and happiness, on a beach
of wrecks and withered weeds.  Seek Christ, seek
your peace through him and in him; and, saved yourself —yourself plucked from the wreck —oh, remember
the perishing, and let the first breath and effort of
your new life be spent for others. I give you an example; and in the words spoken for a fellow-sufferer's
life, see what you should do for a fellow-sinner's soul.
During a heavy storm off the coast of Spain, a dismasted merchantman was observed by a British frigate
drifting before the gale. Every eye and glass were on
her, and a canvas shelter on a deck almost level with
the sea suggested the idea that there yet might be life
on board. With all his faults, no man is more alive
to humanity than the rough and hardy mariner; and
so the order instantly sounds to put the ship about,
and presently a boat puts off with instructions to bear




20           THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
down upon the wreck. Away after that drifting hulk
go these gallant men through the swell of a roaring
sea; they reach it; they shout; and now a strange
object rolls out of that canvas screen against the lee
shroud of a broken mast. Hauled into'the boat, it
proves to be the trunk of a man, bent head and knees
together, so dried and shrivelled as to be hardly felt
within the ample clothes, and so light that a mere boy.
lifted it on board. It is laid on the deck; in horror
and pity the crew gather round it; it shows signs of
life; they draw nearer; it moves, and then muttersmutters in a deep, sepulchral voice-" There is another
man." Saved himself, the first use the saved one made
of speech was to seek to save another. Oh! learn
that blessed lesson. Be daily practising it. And so
long as in our homes, among our friends, in this wreck
of a world which is drifting down to ruin, there lives
an unconverted one, there is " another man," let us go
to that man, and plead for Christ; go to Christ and
plead for that man; the cry, " Lord save me, I perish,"
changed into one as welcome to a Saviour's ear, "Lord
save them, they perish."




Son of man, when the house of Israel dwelt in their own land, they
defiled it by their own way, and by their doings.-EZEx. xxxvi. 17.
" THY holy cities are a wilderness; Zion is a wilderness; Jerusalem is a desolation." So low as this
had the fortunes of Israel ebbed, when the words of
my text were penned. Judah was in chains; the
people were captives in the hands of heathen-exiles
in the land of Babylon. Jerusalem lay in ruins; the
grass grew long and rank in her deserted streets; an
awful silence filled the temple; the fox looked out of
the window, and the foul satyr had her den in the
Holy of Holies. No plough turned a furrow in the
field; the vines grew wild and tangled on the crumbling terraces; nor cock crew, nor dog bayed, nor flock
bleated, nor maid sang, nor shepherd piped, nor smoke
curled up from homestead among the lonely hills.
The land was desolate, almost utterly desolate. She
now enjoyed what the love of pleasure and the greed
of gain had denied her; she rested, and had a long
Sabbath; while over an expatriated people, far away
beyond the desert, and'beside the river, the seventy
years' captivity rolled wearily on.' A few pious men,
who had in vain tried to stem the flood-tide of sin
which swept the nation on to ruin, were mourning
over the guilt of which captivity was the punishment.
Wearying to be home again they cried, " How long,
0 Lord, how long?   Wilt thou be angry for ever?




22          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
Shall thy jealousy burn like fire?"  "Be not wroth
very sore, 0 Lord, neither remember iniquity for ever.
Behold, see, we beseech thee, we are all thy people;
thy holy cities are a wilderness; Zion is a wilderness;
Jerusalem a desolation."  "Turn us again, Lord God
of Hosts, and cause thy face to shine on us, and so we
shall be saved."
So they felt and prayed who were as salt in the
putrid mass. The larger portion, however, as has too
often been the case in the visible church, lived only
to dishonor their faith, their creed, their country and
their race. Like many still who go abroad, and in leaving their native land leave behind them all appearance
of piety, they profaned God's holy name, and gave the
scoffer abundant occasion for this bitter and biting
sneer-" These are the people of the Lord!" In its
application to the contemporaries of Ezekiel, the
prophet briefly describes these sad and sinful days,
and also refers to that preceding period of deep and
wide degeneracy, when the corruption of kings,
princes, priests and people, had grown so great, that,
to use the words of Scripture, "Their trespass was
grown up to the heavens." The patience of God at
length exhausted, as he " drove " the man and woman
from the garden, he drove Israel from a land which
their sins had defiled.
However much we may abhor their crimes, it is impossible not to pity the sufferers-in a sense to sympathise with them. Are we men who, in the case of
an invasion, would take a bold position on the shore,
and fight every inch of ground, and when driven
back would take our last stand in our own doorway,
nor allow the foot of foe to pass there but over our
dead body? If our bosom burns with any patriotic




THE DEFILER.                23
fire, if we have the common affections of men for
family and friends, it is impossible to look with insensibility at that bleeding fragment of a nation gathered
for the march to Babylon, amid the blackened and
blood-stained ruins of their capital. What a mournful
company! The sick, the bedrid, the blind, old men
tottering forth on the staff of age, and plucking their
gray beards with grief; the skeleton infant hanging
on a breast that famine and sorrow have dried; mothers
with terror-stricken children clinging to their sides,
or, worse still, with gentle daughters imploring their
protection from these rude and ruffian soldiers; a few
gallant men, the survivors of the fight, wasted by
famine, bleeding from unbandaged wounds, their arms
bound, and burning tears streaming down their cheeks,
as they looked on-wives and daughters shrieking and
helpless in the arms of brutal passion; how they
strain at their bonds! and bitterly envy their more
fortunate companions who lay in the bloody breach,
nor had survived to see the horrors of that day! The
piety that abhors the sins of this people is not incompatible with the pity that sympathises with their
sorrows; and could sit down and weep with Jeremiah,
as, seated on a broken pillar of the temple, desolation
around him, and no sound in his ear but the long, wild
wail of the captive band, he wrung his hands, raised
them to heaven, and cried, "Oh that my head were
waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might
weep day and night for the slain of the daughter of
my people."
There was a home-leaving, however, in which we
feel a nearer interest. I do not refer to that eventful
morning when some of us left a father's house; and
the gates of that happy sanctuary opened, amid tears




24          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
and fears and many a kind farewell-and when watched by a father's eye, and followed by a mother's prayers, we pushed out our bark on the swell of life's
treacherous sea. The turning time of many a young
man's history,-the crisis of his destiny,-that day
may have exerted an influence as permanent on our
fate as its impression remains indelible on our memory. I refer to a home-leaving of far older date; to
one, not of personal, nor of national, but of universal
interest. My eye is turned back on the day when our
first parents, who had fallen into sin and forfeited their
inheritance, were expelled from man's first home. And,
recollecting the reluctance with which I have seen a
heart-broken mother make up her mind to disown the
prodigal, and drive him from her door,-knowing,
when with slow and trembling hand she had barred
him out, how it seemed to her as if in that horrid
sound she had heard the door of heaven bolted against
him,-and feeling how much provocation we ourselves
could suffer, ere a bleeding heart would consent to
turn a child out upon the open streets, and believing
also that our Father in heaven is kinder than the
kindest, and better than the best of us, and that the
fondest, fullest heart is to his, but as the rocky pool,
-the lodge of some tiny creature-to the great ocean
which has filled it with a wave; no demonstration of
God's abhorrence of sin (always excepting the cross of
Calvary) comes so impressively to our hearts as his
expulsion of our unhappy parents from his own blissful presence and their sweet home in Eden. When
with slow and lingering steps Adam and Eve came
weeping forth from Paradise, and the gate was locked
behind them, that was the bitterst home-leaving the
world ever saw. Adam, the federal head of his family




THE DEFILER.               25
-they came not alone, but are followed by a longer
and sadder procession than went weeping on the way
to Babylon: they are followed by a world in tears.
Cast out in them-in them condemned and expatriated
-we all defiled the land wherein we dwelt. In this
sense the world sinned in Adam, and defiled the happy
bowers of Eden; and the universality of sin stands
firm on the universality of the sentence, " Death has
passed upon all men, for that all have sinned."
I. Let us look at man sinning. "Ye have defiled
the land."
Sin is presented here in the aspect of a defilement.
But before fixing your attention on this feature, I may
remark, that it offers but one of many aspects in which
sin appears; all alarming, all hateful, all detestable.
As opposed to sin and its consequences, heaven and
holiness are pictured forth in the Bible in colors
that glow upon the canvas, through the emblems of
every thing we hold most dear and desirable. Raise
your eyes, for example, to the New Jerusalem. Gold
paves its streets, and around them rise walls of jasper.
Earth holds no such city, nor the depths of ocean such
pearls as form its gates; no storms sweep its sea: no
winter strips -its trees; no thunder shakes its serene
and cloudless sky; the day there never darkens into
night; harps and palms are in the hands, while
crowns of glory flash and blaze upon the heads of its
sinless inhabitants. From this distant and stormy
orb, as the dove eyed the ark, faith eyes this glorious
vision, and, weary of the strife, longing to be gone,
cries, "Oh that I had the wings of a dove, that I
might fly away and be at rest!"
And how difficult would it be to name a noble
2




26           THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
figure, a sweet simile, a tender or attractive relationship, in which Jesus is not set forth to woo a reluctant
sinner and cheer a desponding saint! Am I wounded? He is balm. Am I sick? He is medicine. Am
I naked?   He is clothing.  Am   I poor?  He is
wealth. Am I hungry? He is bread. Am I thirsty?
He is water. Am I in debt? He is a surety. Am
I in darkness! He is a sun. Have I a house to
build? He is a rock. Must I face that black and
gathering storm?  He is a anchor sure and steadfast. Am I to be tried? He is an advocate. Is sentence passed, and am I condemned? He is pardon.
To deck him out, and set him forth, Nature culls her
finest flowers, brings her choicest ornaments, and lays
these treasures at his feet. The skies contribute their
stars. The sea gives up its pearls. From fields, and
mines, and mountains, Earth brings the tribute of her
gold, and gems, and myrrh, and frankincense; the
lily of the valley, the clustered vine, and the fragrant
rose of Sharon. He is " the chiefest among ten thousand, and altogether lovely;" "in Him dwelleth all
the fullness of the Godhead bodily."  I offer him to
you-make a free offer of him, and doing so will challenge you to name a want for which I shall not find a
supply in Christ, something that fits your want as
accurately, as the worls of a key the wards of its
lock.
"A Way he is to lost ones that have strayed;
A Robe he is to such as naked be;
Is any hungry, to all such he is Bread;
Is any weak, in Him how strong is he!
To him that's dead he's Life; to sick men, Health;
Eyes to the blind, and to the poor man Wealth."
Look now at sin; pluck off that painted mask, and




THE DEFILER.                27
turn upon her face the lamp of the Bible. We start;
it reveals a death's head. I stay not to quote texts
descriptive of sin; it is a debt, a burden, a thief, a
sickness, a leprosy, a plague, a poison, a serpent, a
sting-every thing that man hates it is; a load of
evils beneath whose most crushing, intolerable pressure, "the whole creation groaneth."  Name me the
evil that springs not from this root-the crime that
lies not at this door. Who is the hoary sexton that
digs man a grave?   Who is the painted temptress
that steals his virtue? Who is the murderess that
destroys his life? Who is the sorceress that first deceives and then damns his soul!-Sin. Who, with
icy breath, blights the sweet blosssoms of youth?
Who breaks the hearts of parents? Who brings gray
hairs with sorrow to the grave? Who, by a more
hideous metamorphosis than Ovid ever fancied, changes
sweet children into vipers, tender mothers into monsters, and their fathers into worse than Herods, the
murderers of their own innocents?-Sin. Who casts
the apple of discord on home hearths? Who lights
the torch of war, and carries it over happy lands?
Who, by divisions in the Church, rends Christ's seamless robe?-Sin. Who is this Delilah that sings the
Nazarite asleep, and delivers the strength of God into
the hands of the uncircumcised? Who, with smiles
on her face, and honied flattery on her tongue, stands
in the door to offer the sacred rites of hospitality, and
when suspicion sleeps, pierces our temples with a
nail? What Siren is this, who, seated on a rock by
the deadly pool, smiles to deceive, sings to lure, kisses
to betray, and flings her arms around our neck, to
leap with us into perdition?-Sin. Who petrifies the
soft and gentle heart, hurls reason from her throne,




28          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
and impels sinners, mad as Gadarene swine, down the
precipice, into the lake of fire?-Sin. Who, having
brought the criminal to the gallows, persuades him to
refuse a pardon, and with his own -hand to bar the
door against the messenger of mercy? What witch
of hell is it, that thus bewitches us?-Sin. Who
nailed the Son of God to that bloody tree? and who,
as if it were not a dove descending with the olive, but
a vulture swooping down to devour the dying, vexes,
grieves, thwarts, repels, drives off the Spirit of God?
Who is it that makes man in his heart and habits
baser than a beast; and him, who was once but little
lower than an angel, but little better than a devil?
-Sin. Sin! Thou art a hateful and horrible thing;
that " abominable thing which God hates." And
what wonder? Thou hast insulted his Holy Majesty?
thou hast bereaved him of beloved children; thou
hast crucified the Son of his infinite love; thou hast
vexed his gracious Spirit; thou hast defied his power;
thou hast despised his grace; and, in the body and
blood of Jesus, as if that were a common thing, thou
hast trodden under foot his matchless mercy. Surely,
brethren, the wonder of wonders is, that sin is not that
abominable thing which we also hate.
But let us leave what is general, to fix our attention on the view of sin which the text presents. It is
set before us here as a defilement; and I may remark,
that it is the only thing that in the eye of God does
deform and defile us. Yet how strange it is, that some
deformity of body shall prove the subject of more
parental regrets and personal mortification than this
foul deformity of soul. It is miserable to think how
hearts have grieved, and even eyes, which got their
tears surely for better uses, have wept over the




THE DEFILER.               29
stain of some costly dress, which never grieved and
never wept for a sin-stained soul. What pains are'taken, what costs and cares incurred, to bedeck the
body for the house of God, as if that flimsy finery
could conceal or compensate for a foul heart within!
Your manners may have acquired a courtly polish;
your dress may rival the winter's snow; unaccustomed
to menial offices, and sparkling with Indian gems,
your hands may bear no stain on them, yet they are
not clean; nay, beneath this graceful exterior may
lie concealed more foul pollution than is covered by a
beggar's rags. This son of toil, from whose very
touch your delicacy shrinks, and who, till Sabbath
stops the wheels of business, and with her kind hand
wipes the sweat of labor from his brow, never knows
the full comfort of a cleanly habit, may have a heart
within, which, compared with yours, is purity itself.
Beneath this soiled raiment, all unseen by the world's
eye, he wears the " clean linen" of a Redeemer's
righteousness. His speech may be rude, his accent
vulgar; but let him open his heart, unbosom its
secrets, and from these there come forth such gracious
thoughts, such holy desires, such heavenly aspirations,
such hallowed joys, that it seems as if we had opened
some rude sea-chest, brought by a foreign ship from
southern lands, which, full to the lid with pearls, and
gold, and diamonds, loads the air with floating odors
of cassia, and myrrh, and frankincense.
Hypocrite, and dead professor! let us open thy
bosom: full of all corruption, how it smells like a
charnel-house! We are driven back by the noisome
stench-we hasten to close the door; it is a painted
but putrid sepulcher, whose fair exterior but aggravates the foulness within. It is not what lies without,




30          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
but within, that defiles a man.  And it is well all
should remember, when you wash on a Sabbath
morning, that your soul needs washing in another
laver; and, when your person is decked for church,
that you need other robes-robes fairer than worm
spins or shuttles weave, or the wealth of banks can
buy. See that by faith ye put on that righteousness,
even that righteousness of Jesus Christ, in which God
sees neither spot, nor stain, nor any such thing.
II. The nature of this defilement.
It is internal. Like snow drift when it has leveled
the churchyard mounds, and, glistening in the winter
sun, lies so pure, and fair, and beautiful above the
dead, who fester and rot below, a very plausible
profession, wearing the semblance of innocence, may
conceal from human eyes the foulest heart-corruption.
The grass grows green upon a mountain that holds a
volcano in its bowels.  Behind the rosy cheek and
soft lustrous eye of beauty, how often does there lurk
a deadly disease, the deadliest of all! Internal, but
all the more dangerous that they are internal, such
diseases are the last to be suspected or believed in by
their victims, and the hardest to cure. To other than
a skillful eye, or a mother's anxious look, this fair and
graceful form never wears bloom of higher health, nor
moves in more fascinating charms, nor wins more
admiring eyes, than when fell consumption, like a
miner working on in darkness, has penetrated the
vital organs, and is quietly sapping the foundations
of life.
Like these maladies, sin has its seat within. It is a
disease of the heart, and the worst of all heart-complaints. There may be no very alarming appearance




THE DEFILER.                31
on the surface; in the conduct that lies exposed to
the eyes of man there may be little offensive to holiness; yet this fair exterior affords no criterion, no
sure or certain test by which to judge of matters
within. Thanks indeed be to God, and praise to his
sovereign grace, if sin does not find unchallenged
entrance, and meet a cordial welcome in our inner
man; yet how constant and arduous is the fight which
even gracious men have to maintain against the tendency to secret errors! The old man has been nailed
to the tree, but how difficult to keep him there!
How difficult to keep pollution down, and maintain a
current of pure and hallowed desires flowing through
the channels of the heart! In judging ourselves that
we be not judged, beware how you trust to outward
appearances. What if it should be with us as with
this calm  pool, which seems so clean, nay, with
heaven mirrored in its face, so beautiful? Let some
temptation stir up our passions, (and how little does
it need to stir them!) and those pure, pellucid waters
now grow foul and noisome; and, sending forth the
most offensive odors, prove what vile pollution may
lie beneath the fairest surface. Think not that the
evil is accidental-that it lies, as some say, in education, in temptation, in external causes: it is traceable
to the heart itself. What more harmless than temptations-this fiery dart launched by Satan's handthat flaming arrow from his bow —if they fell like
sparks in water? But alas! they fall like a torch
into a magazine of combustibles. Knowing this, and
jealous of themselves, let God's people watch and pray
that they enter not into temptation. To life's last
step, with life's latest breath, be this your prayer,
"Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from




82          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
evil."  It is another prayer, indeed, that the sinner
has to offer. He has not to seek that his heart may
be kept clean, but made clean; it is not health preserved, but restored, you want; you need not food,
but medicine; a new nature, heart, life: this the
prayer that suits your lips and case: "Create in me
a clean heart, 0 God, and renew a right spirit within
me."
This defilement is universal. Our world is inhabited
by various races of men-different specimens, not different species. The Malay, the Negro, the race early
cradled among Caucasian mountains, and the Red Indians of the New World; these all differ from each
other in the color of the skin, in the contour of the
skull, in the cast and character of their features.
Whence came these different races? The Bible says
that " God made of one blood all the families of the
earth." According to its authority they are all sprung
of one pair, who were located in a garden somewhere in the distant east. There, in that central and
elevated region of the old world, man was both made
and redeemed; there the cradle of our race was rocked, and the cross of salvation raised; and, breaking
forth in an eastern region, the lights of knowledge and
religion, learning human and divine, letters, science,
and arts have, as by a law of nature, followed the
track of the sun. The origin of these different races
is a question of no small importance, and has formed
a battle-ground between the enemies and defenders
of our faith; one long and obstinately contested.
If, in order to account for these different races on
the principles of unchallengeable physiology, it could
be proved, that Europe, Africa, and America must,
as well as Asia, have had their parent pairs; if it




THEi DEFILER.              33
could be proved that there must of necessity have
been as many Adams as there are races of men, then
it is plain that we must yield up the divine authority of the Bible, and read the story of Moses as an
old-world fable-some fragment of Egyptian wisdom
which he had embalmed in the page of Genesis. Infidelity, quick to see what would serve her purpose,
has attempted to prove this, and challenged religion
to meet her on the field of science. Her challenge has
been accepted. Men-at-arms in the ranks of the faith
have taken up the gauntlet; the battle has been
fought, and fought out; and now, to the confusion
and complete discomfiture of the infidel, it stands demonstrated, that in this question as in others, science
is in perfect harmony with revelation. Dismissing all
Adams but one, she demands no more than the Bible
grants, will receive no more than it offers, believe no
more than it reveals; concluding that all these varieties of the human family are, in the providence of
God, and in the hands of an Omnipotence which delights in variety, the offspring of a single pair.
There is one argument which these unhired, impartial, and independent defenders of our faith-these
high-priests of science-did not, perhaps, feel warranted to employ, but which presents to us the most convincing evidence of a common origin. It lies where
the tests of chemistry cannot detect it, nor the knife
of the anatomist reach it, nor the eye of the physiognomist discover it, nor the instruments of the phrenologist measure it. Its place is in the inner man; it
lies in the depths of the soul; and comes out in this
remarkable fact, that, although the hues of the skin
differ, and the form of the skull and the features of
the face are cast in different moulds, the features, co2 




84          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
lor, and character of the heart are the same in all men.
Be he pale-faced or red, tawny or black, Jew, Greek,
Scythian, bond or free; whether he be the civilized inhabitant of Europe, or roam a painted savage in American woods, pant beneath the burning line, or, wrapt
in furs, shiver amid the Arctic snows; as in all classes
of society, so in all races of men, to quote the words
of the prophet, " the heart is deceitful above all things,
and desperately wicked;" or, in the no less emphatic
language of the Apostle, " the carnal mind is enmity
against God." The pendulum vibrates slower at the
equator than the pole; the further north we push our
way over thick-ribbed ice, the clock goes the faster;
but parallels of latitude have no modifying influence
on the motions of the heart. It beats the same in all
men; nor, till repaired by grace, does it in any beat
true to God. In Adam all have died-have sinned,
and therefore died. Sin, like our atmosphere, embraces the world. Like death, it is universal; its empire is coeval and co-extensive with that of the king
of terrors. And how can it be otherwise? If man is
the child of unholy parents, how can a clean thing
come out of an unclean? When water of its own
accord shall rise above its fountain, then may Adam's
children possess a nature loftier than his own. The
tree is diseased, not at the top, but at the root; and,
therefore, no branch of the human family can by possibility escape being affected by sin. Is any thing
more plain and palpable than this, that if the fountain
was polluted, to whatever quarter of the world the
stream of population flowed, it must have borne pollution in its bosom? Is suffering the sure index of
sin? Then, if there be no country beneath the sun
where signs of suffering are not seen, and its sounds




THE DEFILER.                85
are not heard, sin is every where-is in every man.
Be they dug in Arctic snows, or in the desert sands,
there is no land without its graves; nor, wherever it
stands, a city without its cemetery. Be they monarchies or republics, unaffected by the revolutions that
cast down other dynasties, death reigns in them alla king of kings. Death sits on the world's oldest
throne. Suffering the stings of conscience, sin and
serpent-bitten, man is condemned by a voice within
him; there sits a divinity enthroned in every man's
soul, whose voice is the clear, articulate, and solemn
echo of this judgment, "All have sinned, and come
short of the glory of God."
This evil is incurable.
Hear the Word of the Lord: " Though thou wash
thee with nitre, and take thee much soap, yet thine
iniquity is marked before me, saith the Lord." Again,' Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard
his spots? Then may ye that have been accustomed
to do evil learn- to do well."  Again, "Why should
ye be stricken any more, ye will revolt more and
more?" Of these solemn and humbling truths I know
no more remarkable illustration than that before us.
What effect had God's judgments on his ancient people? Some children owe their ruin to excessive indulgence; others are the victims of an extreme severity, which drives them first to falsehood, and then
from that on to other crimes. Thus mismanagement
may be laid at our door; but who will impute error
to God, or challenge the wisdom of his ways? Now,
when the scourge was in the hands of a God all wise,
what effect had it on his people? Were they cured
by their afflictions, trials, and years of suffering? Did




36          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
these arrest the malady? Had they even the effect
of preventing their sinking deeper into sin? By no
means. As always happens in incurable diseases, the
patient grew worse instead of better. " Seducers wax
worse and worse." As always happens when life is
gone, the dead grew more and more offensive. The
more it shines, and the more it rains, the thicker the
dews of night, and the hotter the sun of day, the faster the dead tree rots; for those agents in nature which
promote the vegetation and develop the beauty of
life, the sounding shower, the silent dews, the summer heat, have no other effect on death than to
hasten its putridity and decay. And even so, furnishing us with an impressive lesson of the impotency of
all means that are unaccompanied by the divine blessing-was it with God's ancient people. He sent them
servants, and he sent them sufferings; but, until the
Spirit of life descended from on high, their habits only
grew more depraved, their condition more desperate,
their profanity more profane; they but laid themselves more and more open to the charge-"The, last
state of that man is worse than the first."  Wherever
on weary feet they wandered, they dishonored religion, disgraced the faith; and, instead of extorting
the respect of their oppressors, they exposed both
themselves and their God to contempt.
The heathen sneered and said, " These are the people of the Lord!" and, what is less common, these
down-trodden exiles, these debased and degraded sinners, seem themselves to have felt the desperate character of their case; they said, " Our bones are dried,
and our hope is lost."
Now, as we may learn from the case of the Jews,
the case of every sinner, apart from divine assistance,




THE DEFILER.                 37
is a desperate one. This internal and universal defilement is one which neither sorrows nor sufferings
can remove. God, in a passage which we have already
quoted, says, " Though thou wash thee with nitre,
and take thee much soap, yet thine iniquity is marked
before me;" sorrows have no more virtue than soap,
tears than nitre here. Trust not, therefore, in any
merely unsanctified afflictions, as if these could permanently and really change the true character of the
heart. I have seen the characters of the writing remain on paper that the flames had turned into a film
of buoyant coal; I have seen the thread that had
been passed through the fire, retain, in its cold gray
ashes, the twist which it had got in spinning; I have
found every shivered splinter of the flint as hard as
the unbroken stone: and, let trials come, in providence, sharp as the fire and ponderous as the crushing
hammer, unless God send with these something else
than these, bruised, broken, bleeding as the heart may
be, it remains the same. You may weep for your
sins; and, since all of us have need to seek a more tender conscience, and that this too cold and callous heart
were warmed and softened, sorry should I be to stop
your weeping. Should a mote of dust get into the
natural eye, the irritation induced will weep out the
evil; and so, in a way, with sin in a tender and holy
conscience. But tears-an ocean of tears-wash not
out the guilt of sin. All tears are lost that fall not at
the feet of Jesus. But even the tears which bathe a
Saviour's feet wash not away our sins. When falling
-flowing fastest, we are to remember that it is not the
tears we shed, but the blood he shed, which is the
price of pardon; and that guilty souls are nowhere to
be cleansed but in that bath of blood where the foul



88           SPTHE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
est are free to wash and certain to be cleansed. From
its crimson margin a Magdalene and a Manassei have
gone up to glory; and since their times, succeeding
ages have been daily and more fully proving, that
grace is still free, salvation still full, and that still the
blood of Christ cleanseth from all sin.
"There is a fountain filled with blood,
Drawn from Emmanuel's veins,
And sinners plunged beneath that flood,
Lose all their guilty stains."




When the house of Israel dwelt in their own land, they defiled it by
their own way, and by their doings.-EZEKIEL XXxvi. 17.
"I HAVE dreamed a dream," said Joseph, "and behold the sun, moon, and eleven stars made obeisance
to me." Our earth was once supposed to occupy a
place of no less honor in creation. Turning daily on
its axis, and performing also an annual revolution
round the sun, our globe is in incessant motion; but
it was once believed that its state was one of perfect
rest, and that, like the small pivot on which some
great wheel revolves, it formed a center, around which
went rolling the whole machinery of heaven, those
suns and planets, both fixed and wandering stars.
This dream of science met a happier fate than Joseph's;
believed in the credulous ages of the world's childhood, it was obstinately clung to as an article of faith
down to no very distant period. It is not so very
long ago since the telescope of Galileo demonstrated
that our earth, whatever the Pope might say, is a satellite of the sun, and but one of many orbs that roll
around him; and he but one of many suns, which,
taking millions of years to complete their circle, revolve about some greater center. At some period
preceding the philosopher's discovery, the throne of
Spain is said to have been occupied by a man who
was acute enough to perceive, that if all these vast
systems, suns, planets, and comets, were daily turning




40          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
round this earth, then, in making the greater subser
vient to the less, the Creator of the universe had constructed a very clumsy and cumbersome piece of
mechanism. History has preserved the profane language of his dissent from the science of his own day.
It was something to the effect, that if God had consulted him when he made the worlds, they would
have been better designed. Far be it from us, under
any perplexity felt in contemplating the mysteries
either of creation or providence, to question the wisdom of God, to cherish a thought so daring, or utter
an expression so profane. In his dealings with us, his
way may be in the sea, and his path in the mighty
waters, and his footsteps not known; "by terrible
things in righteousness," he may answer us; let him
dash the cup from our hand, or fill it brimful of'wine of astonishment," we shall never deem it right
to think that God has done wrong. Whatever appearance of error his ways or works may present, be
assured that the defect is not in the object, but in the
spectator, in the eye that sees, not in the thing that is
seen; not in the plans of infinite wisdom, but in the
finite and fallible mind, which has the folly to condemn what it has not the understanding to comprehend. "Manifold are thy works, Lord God Almighty;
in wisdom hast thou made them all."
Such is the judgment of the Psalmist; and from
this no work of God's so strongly tempts us to dissent
as the condition and character of man himself; and I
know no way of so well meeting this temptation as by
receiving into our creed the doctrine of the Fall. If
with some we reject this doctrine,-if we hold that the
children are not in any sense implicated in their parents' sin-then, in the providence of God, and in the




MAN SINNING.               41
government of the world, there appears to be nothing
-I shall not say so deficient in wisdom, but so obscure, inscrutable, painfully and fearfully mysterious,
as the position, condition, and character of man; for,
on the supposition that man has never fallen,-that
the vessel is as pure and perfect as when it passed
from the potter's hand-these questions are ever
rising, and, dismiss them as we may, are ever returning,-how could a good God make such a wicked
creature? How could a kind God make such an unhappy creature?  How could a wise God make such
a foolish creature? How could a holy God make
such a sinful creature? If it is impossible for a pure
stream to be born of a polluted fountain, is it not as
impossible to believe that a crystal fountain can be
the parent of a polluted stream? If a clean thing
cannot come out of an unclean, is not the conclusion
as fair, as logical, as inevitable, that an unclean thing
cannot come out of a clean?
Now let us shut the Bible-exclude every ray of
inspired and celestial light; we stand in darkness;
and yet it seems to me like the dead substance, the
decaying wood, the putrid animal matter which grows
luminous through its decay, and emits in death a
phosphorescent light: by the help of man's very corruption we have light enough to see his fallen, dead,
degraded state. Indeed, I would a thousand times
sooner believe, that man made himself what he is, than
that God made him so; for in the one case I should
think ill of man only; in the other I am tempted to
blame his Maker. Just think, I pray you, to what
conclusion our reason would conduct us in any anal
ogous case. You see, for example, a beautiful capital
still bearing some of the flowers and foliage which the




42          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
chisel of a master had carved upon the marble. It
lies prostrate on the ground, half-buried among weeds
and nettles; while beside it the rerises from its pedestal the headless shaft of a noble pillar. Would you
not conclude at once that its present position, so base,
mean, and prostrate, was not its original position?
You would say the lightning must have struck it
down; or an earthquake have shaken it, or some ignorant barbarian had climbed the shaft, and with rude
hand had hurled it to the ground. Well, we look at
man, and come to a similar conclusion.  There is
something, there is much that is wrong, both in his
state and condition. His mind is carnal, and at enmity with God; the "imaginations of his heart are
only evil continually," so says the Bible. His body
is the seat of disease; his eyes are often swimming in
tears; care, anticipating age, has drawn deep furrows
on his brow; he possesses noble faculties, but, like
people of high descent, who have sunk into a low
estate and become menials, they drudge in the service
of the meanest passions. He has an immortal soul,
but it is clogged by the infirmities, and imprisoned
within the walls of a "body of death." His life is
vanity; he is ever seeking happiness, but like the
child who pursues the horizon, chases the rainbow, or
climbs the hills to catch the silvery moon, he never
finds the object of his search. In some respects,manifestly made for a sphere higher than he fills,he appears to us like a creature of the air which some
cruel hand has stripped of its silken wings. How like
he looks to this hapless object which has just fallen
on the pages of a book that we read by the candle on
an autumn evening I it retains the wish, but has lost
the power to fly; allured by the taper's glare, it ha,




MAN SINNING.               43
brushed the flame, burned its wings, and, dropping
with a heavy fall, it now crawls wingless across the
page, and seeks the finger of mercy to end its misery.
Compare man with any of the other creatures of God,
and how directly we come to the conclusion that he
is not the creature he came from his Maker's hands!
Who has not had this borne in upon his mind
when his feet carried him forth into the fields of nature? I pass out among our sylvan scenes; and here,
on the spray of the tasseled broom, there sits and
sings a little bird; it fills the glen with melody; from
his throat and. throbbing breast he rings out the
sweetest music, as with keen bright eye he now looks
up to God and now down on the bush where his mate
sits with wings extended over their unfeathered nestlings; with songs he cheers her maternal cares, and is
then away on busy wing to cater for mother and her
young. Next, I turn my steps to the open moor; and so
soon as the intruder appears on her lonely domain, the
lapwing comes down upon the wind; brave and venturesome she sweeps us with her wing, and shrieks out
her distress as she wheels round and round our head;
her brood are cowering on that naked waste; nor does
she rest until our foot is off the ground, and even then,
when the coast is clear, we hear her long, wild screams,
like the beating of a mother's heart when her child is
saved; like the mournful dash of waves upon the
shore long after the wind is down. Next I climb the
mountain, when snow-drifts thick from murky heavens, and, like Satan, taking advantage of a believer's
trials, the wily fox is out upon the hunt; every mother of the flock lies there with her tender lamb behind her; with her body she screens it from the rudeness of the storm- and with her head to the wind,




44          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
and expanded nostrils snuffing the distant danger, she
lies ready, the moment her eye catches the stealthy
foe, to receive him on her feet, and die, likela true
mother, in her lamb's defence. Such are God's creatures. The work is unmarred; the workmanship
what it came from   the Maker's hand; and away
among these old hoary hills, remote from man, his
cities, his sins, his works, his sorrows, we are out of
hearing of the groans of creation; and, but for the
corruption we carry with and within us, we could almost forget the Fall. Stretched on a flowery bank,
with the hum of bees, the song of birds, and the chirp
of the merry grasshopper in our ear, heaven serene
above us, and beneath us the placid lake, where every
flower and bush and birch-tree of the rock looks down
into the mirror of its own beauty, the murmur of the
waterfall sounds to us, like an echo from the crags of
the Creator's voice, "All is very good."
But let us retrace our steps along the dusty road
from the broom where the little bird sings, and the
moor where the lapwing screams her maternal fears,
and the hill where the timid sheep faces the fox to
die for her offspring; or the forest, where the bear
with her cubs behind her, offers her shaggy bosom to
the spear. Enter this town. Look at this mother, as
we saw her when Sabbath bells rung worshipers to
prayer, and God was calling sinners to the throne of
mercy. Her back is against the church's wall; she
has sunk on the cold pavement; her senses are steeped
in drink, and on her lap,-pitiful sight! lies an emaciated, half-naked infant, with the chill, cold rain
soaking its scanty rags, and lashing its pallid face.
Is this God's handiwork? Is this the clay as it came
from the potter's wheel? Was this the shape in




MAN SINNING.               45
which woman came from her Maker's hand? When
Adam woke, was our mother Eve such as this her
daughter? If so, better he had never woke; it had
been good for him to be alone. Nature, to say
nothing of religion, revolts from the thought.
Now, it is common, enough to call such spectacles
brutal; language which is a libel on creation, and a
blasphemy against the Creator. Such scenes are not
brutal. My very argument lies in'this, that the brute
beasts never present themselves in such a repulsive
and revolting aspect. Under the impulse of instincts
necessary for their well-being, for the due balance or
races, and the general welfare of the world, they may,
and indeed must prey upon each other; but did any
man ever find them committing self-destruction?
Do they ever pursue such suicidal conduct? Range
the wide fields of nature, travel from the equator to
the poles, rise from the worm that crawls on earth to
the'eagle that cleaves the clouds, and where shall you
find any thing corresponding to our scenes of dissipation, or the bloody fields of war?  Suppose, that on
his return from Africa, some Park, or Bruce, or
Campbell, were to tell how he had seen the lions of
the desert leave their prey, and, meeting face to face
in marshaled bands, amid roars that drowned the
thunder, engage in deadly battle, he would find none
so credulous as to believe him; the world would
laugh the traveler and his tale to scorn. But should
a thing so strange and monstrous occur —should we
see the cattle, while the air shook with their bellowings, and the ground trembled beneath their hoofs,
rush from their distant pastures, to form two vast,
blick, solid columns; and should these herds, with
heads leveled to the charge, dash forward to bury




46          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
their horns in each other's bodies, we would proclaim
a prodigy, and ask what madness had seized creation.
Well, is not sin the parent of more awful prodigies?
Look here —turn to the horrors of this battle-field.
This is no fancy, but a fact-a bloody, sickening
fact. The ground lies thick with the mangled brave;
the air is shaken with the most horrible sounds;
every countenance expresses the passions of a fiend.
Humanity flies shrinking from the scene, and leaves
it to rage, revenge, and agony.  Fiercer than the
cannon's flash shoot flames of wrath from brother's
eyes; they sheathe their swords in each other's bowels:
every stroke makes a widow, and every ringing volley
scatters a hundred orphans on a homeless world. I
would sooner believe that there was no God at all,
than that man appears in this scene as he came from
the hand of a benignant Divinity. Man must have
fallen; nature, society, the state of the world, are so
many echoes of the voice of Revelation; they proclaim that man is fallen-that the gold has become
dim —that the much fine gold has perished; and, in
words to which we again turn your attention, that we
have defiled the land in which we dwell, by our ways
and by our doings. Now, leaving the subject of
Original, to speak of Actual Sin, we remarkI. Apart from derived sinfulness, we have personal
sins to answer for.
Dispose of the doctrine of original sin as you please;
suppose that you could disprove it; when that count
of the indictment is canceled, what have you gained?
Enough, more than enough, remains to convict us of
guilt, and condemn all within these walls. You may
deny Original, but can any man deny Actual Sin?




MAN SINNING.               47
You might as well deny your existence; it sticks to
you like your shadow. "If we should say that we
have no sin, we make God a liar, and the truth is not
in us." I say with God, " Come, let us reason together." Do you mean to affirm, on the one hand,
that you have never been guilty of doing what you
should not have done? or, on the other, never guilty
of not doing what you should have done? Lives
there a man so happy as to look back on the past and
feel no remorse, or forward to the future and feel no
fear? What! is there no page of your history that
you would obliterate —no leaf that, with God's permission you would tear from the book? Is there no
action, nor word, nor wish of days gone by, that you
would not, if you could, recall? To David's prayer,
" Lord, remember not the sins of my youth, nor my
transgressions," have you no solemn and hearty Amen?
If you could be carried back to the starting-pest, and
leant again against the cradle, and stood again at your
mother's knee, and sat again at the old school desk,
with companions that are now changed, or scattered,
or dead and gone-were you to begin life anewwould you run the self-same course; would you live
over the self-same life? What! is there no speech
that you would unsay? is there no act that you would
undo? no Sabbath that you would spend better?
none yet alive, none mouldering in the grave, none
now in heaven or hell, to whom you would bear
yourself otherwise than you have done? Are there
none among the dead whose memory stings you, and
whose everlasting state fills you with anxiety? Did
you never share in sins that may have proved their
ruin? and never fail in faithfulness that might have
saved their souls? Oh! if every thread of our web




48          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
were yet to weave, what man would make the future
a faithful,-I will add, fearful copy of the past? I
will venture to say that no man living would; and
that the Apostle has universal conscience on his side,
when he says, "If we say that we have no sin, we
deceive ourselves." Our sins are more in number
than the hairs upon our head; and I know no language nor attitude so becoming us as those of Ezra,
when, rending his mantle, he fell upon his knees and
cried, "Oh, my God, I am ashamed, and blush to lift
up my face to thee; for our iniquities are increased
over our heads, and our trespass is gone up into the
heavens."
II. The guilt of these actual sins is our own.
"Hast thou eaten of the tree?" God puts the question, and man replies, " The woman whom thou gavest
to be with me, she gave me of the tree, and I did
eat."  Adam points an accusing finger at Eve, and
turning round to the woman, God says, " What is this
that thou hast done?" She in turn lays the blame on
the serpent, saying, "The serpent beguiled me, and I
did eat." And thus and thus they shift the sin. We
have "eaten of the tree;" and,-unless it be to roll
the guilt on Christ,-we attempt in vain to screen ourselves behind another's back-to lay the burden on
any shoulders but our own.
There are strong pleas which the poor heathen may
advance in extenuation of their guilt; and, stepping
forward with some confidence to judgment,-may urge
upon a just and merciful as well as holy God.
They may say, we knew no better; no man cared
for our souls. Great God! when thy followers landed
on our happy shores, they brought no olive branch or




MAN SINNING.               49
Bible, but fire, and sword, and slavery; and on the
back of those who, bearing thy name, oppressed us,
robbed us, enslaved us, and left us to die ignorant of
thy love, we lay our guilt. Let them answer for us;
place these Christians at thy bar; ask them " where is
thy brother Abel?" and on their heads, not on ours,
let thy dread justice fall. This wretched, ragged child,
the victim of cruelty and neglect, who leaves hunger
and a bed of straw to stand at the bar of God, may
lift up his head at that august tribunal, and stand on
his defence with more certainty both of justice and
pity than he has ever met here below. In cold and
nakedness, in hunger and thirst, in rags and ignorance,
he was left to wander our hard streets, and, among all
the Christians of this city, there was not one kind
hand to guide his naked feet to Sabbath church or infant school. Poor wretch! the house of God was not
for him; and now that he addresses one who will not
refuse to hear him-child of misfortune!-now may
he say, Merciful Lord! my mother taught me to steal,
my father taught me to swear. How could I obey a
Bible which I never learned to read? Hlow could I
believe in thee, whom no one taught me to know?
Saviour of sinners! condemn me not; how was I to
avoid sins against which I was never warned? I did
not know what I did. Seizing thy cross, I claim the
benefit of its dying prayer, " Father, forgive them, for
they know not what they do."
What value may be given to these pleas-what
weight they may carry at a tribunal where much will
be exacted of those who have got much, and little
asked where little has been given-it is not for us to
say. The Judge of all the earth will do right. But
this we know, that we have no such excuse to plead,
3




60          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
no such plea to urge in extenuation of one of a thousand of our offences. Some, indeed, plead their natural proneness to sin; they excuse themselves to conscience on that ground, or on this, that the temptation
before which they fell, fell on them with the suddenness and vehemence of a hurricane. The command,
however, to watch and pray leaves you without excuse. You were fully warned, and should have been
on the outlook for the white squall. The sentinel is
righteously shot who allows himself to sleep upon his
post. Supposing, however, that the plea were accepted;
I repeat, enough, and more than enough, remains to
condemn us, and leaves guilt no refuge out of Christ.
We talk of the strength and suddenness of temptation;
but how often have we sinned designedly, deliberately,
repeatedly? We talk of our bias to sin; but who
has not committed sins that he could have avoidedsins which he could have abstained from, and sins
which he did abstain from, when it served some present
purpose to do so?  This reeling sot and slave of
drunkenness keeps sober at a communion season; and
the swearer, who alleges that he cannot refrain from
oaths, puts a bridle on his tongue in the presence of
his minister. It is useless for the sinner to say that
he is swept away by temptation; "he conceiveth mischief, and he bringeth forth falsehood;" and if swept
away, it is as the suicide, who seeks the river, stands
on its brink, and, leaping in, is swept off to his watery
grave. I know that Satan goes about seeking whom
he may devour; but, while he tempts us, how often
have we tempted him? Stealing on unawares, and,
like a lion crouching to the leap, with sudden and unlooked for spring -he may cast himself upon us; but
how often have we cast ourselves in his way? We




MAN SINNING.                51
have gone down to Delilah, we have stood in the way
of sinners, we have sinned when we knew that we
were sinning; we have gone where we knew that we
were to sin; and, in pursuit of its guilty pleasurestrampling conscience beneath our feet, and more than
that, the body and blood of Jesus Christ-we have
done what the heathen never did, what Sodom and
Gomorrah never did, what Tyre and Sidon never did
-we have rejected a Saviour, and madly refused
eternal life. There is hope for us in the blood of his
cross, but none in its prayer. We knew what we did.
Some years ago, on a great public occasion, a distinguished statesman rose up in the presence of assembled thousands, and, in reply to certain calumnious
and dishonorable charges, raised. his hands in the vast
assembly, exclaiming, " These hands are clean." Now,
if you or I, or any of our fallen race did entertain a
hope that we could act over this scene before God in
judgment, I could comprehend the calm and unimpassioned indifference with which men sit in church
on successive Sabbaths, eye the cross of Calvary, and
listen to the overtures of mercy. Are these matters
with which you have nothing to do? If, indeed, you
have no sins to answer for-if before this world's
great assize you are prepared not only to plead, but
to prove your innocence-if conscience accuses you in
nothing, and excuses you in every thing-then sleep
on, in God's name sleep on, and take your rest. But
when the heavens over men are clothed in thunders,
and hell yawns beneath their feet, and both God's law
and their own conscience condemn them, such indifference is madness! Beware! play with no fire;
least of all, with fire unquenchable. Play with no
edged sword; least of all, with that which Justice




52           THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
sheathed in a Saviour's bosom. Delay by the mouth
of no pit; least of all, on the brink of a bottomless
one, the smoke of whose torment goeth up for ever
and ever. Think of these things. Incalculable issues
are at stake; your everlasting destiny may turn upon
this hour.
Do you feel under condemnation? Are you really
anxious to be saved? Be not turned from your purpose by the jeers and taunts of the ungodly. It is a
very common thing with scoffers, and with those who
use their religion as a cloak always worn loosely, nor
ever drawn closely round, save, so to speak, in inclement weather, when distress troubles, or death
alarms them; it is no uncommon thing to eye all men
of zealous duty with cold suspicion, and represent
them as either rogues or fools, fanatics or hypocrites.
In answer to the charge of weakness or folly, I think
I could produce an array of brilliant and immortal
names-names of men in whom duty has been associated with the highest intellect, the loftiest genius,
the most profound and statesman-like sagacity-men
besides whom most of your scoffers, skeptics, and
worldlings were as dwarfs in the company of giants.
Folly! if Christians really such are chargeable with
any folly, it is with that of not being zealous enough
-with that of being, not too much, but too little religious. In the name both of common sense and
religion, I ask, is it possible, if there be a hell, to be
too anxious to escape it? If men are perishing, how
can I, with my children, brothers, sisters, friends in
the burning, be too anxious to save them? The man
who rises at mirk midnight to quench the flames in a
neighbor's house, is no fool surely; but he who can
coolly eat his meals beside the sea or go singing about




MAN SINNING.                 53
his common avocations along the shore, when the
wreck is in his eye, and the roar of the surf and the
shrieks of the drowning are in his ear, he is a fool, or
something worse.
As to the insinuation of general hypocrisy, the
wretched charge got up against all religion, when some
specious professor stands unmasked before the world,
how absurd it is! Is there no grain in our barn-yards,
because there is so much chaff?  Are all patriotsWallace and the Bruce, Tell, Russel, and Washington
-deceivers and liars, because some men have villainously betrayed their country? Is there no honor in
the British army, because some soldiers, the sweepings probably of our city streets, have left the lines,
and leaped the trenches, and deserted to the enemy?
Is there no integrity among British merchants, because
now and then we hear of a fraudulent bankruptcy?
Because some religious professors prove hypocrites, is
therefore all ardent piety hollow hypocrisy? To
reason so, argues either a disordered intellect or a
very depraved heart-is a conclusion, indeed, as contrary to logic as to love. When were hypocrites ever
known to suffer for their principles? Yet is there a
country in Christendom that has not been strewed
thick with the ashes -and dyed red with the blood of
martyrs? Have not their heads in ghastly rows stood
on our city gates? Two hundred years ago, and the
windows of the very houses still standing round this
church were crowded with eager faces, taking their
last look of men who went with firm step and lofty
carriage to die for principle-loving Christ more than
their lives, and ready, as one said before they threw
him off-had they as many lives as they had hairs on
their head, to lay them all down for Christ. Religion




54            THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
is an honest thing, and true wisdom. God working
in you, work out therefore your salvation. The way
to the refuge lies open; with the feet of an Azahel
haste to Jesus. Once in him, you can turn on the
avenger, saying, I fear thee not; here thou comest,
but no farther; this blood-red line thou canst not
pass,-" There is no condemnation for them who are
in Christ Jesus.".
Do you see that sin stains your holiest services, defiling head, heart, hands, feet-the whole man? Haste
to the fountain where sins are lost and souls are
cleansed. With its base ingratitude to your heavenly
Father-with the wounds it has inflicted on a most
loving Saviour-with the grief it has caused, and the
resistance it has made, to a most gentle and Holy
Spirit-with the deep injuries it has done to your own
soul, and souls which, loving, you should have sought
to save-Oh, let sin be your deepest sorrow, your
heaviest grief, the spring of many tears, the burden
of many sighs, the occasion of daily visits to the cross
of Calvary.
"Weep not for broad lands lost;
Weep not for fair hopes crossed;
Weep not when limbs wax old;
Weep not when friends grow cold;
Weep not, that death must part
Thine and the best-loved heart;
Yet weep-weep all thou canWeep, weep. because thou art
A sm-aeil-ut mauI..




3att       anff  r  inn
Wherefore I poured my fury upon them, and I scattered them among
the heathen, and they were dispersed through the countries. According to their way and according to their doings, I judged them.
EZExIEL xxxvi. 18, 19.
IT appears a very easy thing to say what a plant or
animal is. It is not so. There are myriads of living
creatures that occupy the debatable ground between
the vegetable and animal kingdoms, and naturalists
have not yet determined on which side of the border
to assign them a place-whether to rank them among
plants or animals. What is man? You would think
it an easy thing to answer that question; yet I am not
sure that, even at this day, we have any correct definition which-distinguishing him on the one hand
from the angelic race and on the other hand from the
higher orders of inferior creatures,-is at once brief
and comprehensive. Now, if we have such difficulty
in defining.even ourselves, or those objects that, being
patent to the senses, may be made the subject of
searching and prolonged experiment, we need not
wonder that, when we rise above his works to their
Maker, from things finite to things infinite, it should
be found much easier to ask than answer the question,
"What is God?" The telescope by which we con-'verse with the stars, the microscope which unvails the
secrets of nature, the crucible of the chemist, the knife
of the anatomist, the reflective faculties of the phi



56          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
losopher, all the common instruments of science avail
not here. On the threshold of that impenetrable
mystery, from out the clouds and darkness that are
round about God's throne, a voice arrests our steps;
and the question comes, " Who can by searching find
out God, who can find out the Almighty to perfection?"
Divines, notwithstanding, have ventured on a definition of God; and, according to the Catechism of
the Westminister Assembly, " God is a spirit, infinite,
eternal, and unchangeable, in his being, wisdom,power,
holiness, justice, goodness, and truth." A very comprehensive definition, no doubt; yet did it never strike
you as strange, that there is no mention of love
here, and that that is a very remarkable omission?an omission as remarkable as if a man who described
the firmament were to leave out the sun, or, painting
the human face, made it sightless, and gave no place
on the canvas to those beaming eyes which give life
and animation to the features.
Why did an assembly, for piety, learning, and
talents, the greatest, perhaps, that ever met in
England, or any where else, give us that catalogue of
the divine attributes, and deny a place among them
to love? We think the omission may be thus explained and illustrated. Take a globe, and observing their natural order, lay on its surface the colors
of the rainbow; gave it a rapid motion round its axis;
and now you no longer see blue, red, yellow, and the
others. As if by magic, the whirling sphere changes
into purest white, presenting to our eyes and understanding a visible proof that the sunbeam is not a
simple, but compound body, woven of various rays,
and forming, when blended into one, what we call




MAN SUFFERING.              57
light. Now, may it not be, that these divines make no
mention of love (otherwise an unaccountable omission)
just because they held that as all the colors together
make light, so all the attributes acting together make
love; and that thus, because God is justice, is wisdom,
is power, is holiness, is goodness, and is truth, God
therefore of necessity, and in the express words of
John,'"God is love." This is the briefest and best
definition of Divinity, and would have been John's
answer to the question, L "What is God?"
It may be said, and is no doubt true, that objects
take a color from the eyes that look at them; all
things-sun, and sea, and mountains, look yellow to
the jaundiced eye; all things look gloomy to a
gloomy mind; while a cheerful temper gilds the edges
of life's blackest cloud, and flings a path of light
across a sea of danger; contentment sits down to a
crust of bread and a cup of water, and gives God
thanks; and the plainest person is beautiful in the
eyes of fond affection. Now it may be thought, to
John's loving eye, his heavenly Father seemed so
loving and so lovely, that it was very natural for him
to give the color of his own eyes to this divine object, and say, God is love. But it is to be remembered.
that when he gave this shortest,- sweetest definition of
divinity, he was not painting objects only as they
appeared to him; he was a pen in the hand of inspiration;- like the keys of a musical instrument, he
sounded to the movements of another's will, and the
touch of another's finger; and that-one of the holy
men of old, who spake as they were moved by the
Holy Ghost-it was not he, but God himself, who
thus described and defined himself, " God is love."
Assuming then that God is love, it may be asked,




58          TIHE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
how does that harmonize with the text?  How is it
to be reconciled with words where God represents
himself as pouring down his fury like a thundershower, and scattering his people, in a storm of indignation, as light and worthless chaff blown away
upon the wind. How,, it may be asked, does this
consist with God's love and mercy? Now, there is no
greater mistake than to suppose that God, as a God of
justice and a God of mercy, stands in antagonism to
himself. It is not mercy, but injustice, which is irreconcilable with justice.  It is cruelty, not justice,
that stands opposed to mercy. These attributes of
the Godhead are not contrary the one to the other,
as are light and darkness, fire and water, truth and
falsehood, right and wrong. No; like two streams
which unite their waters to form a common river,
justice and mercy are combined in the work of redemption. Like the two cherubims whose wings
met above the ark-like the two devout and holy
men who drew the nails from Christ's body, and bore
it to the grave-like the two angels who received
it in charge, and, seated, the one at the head, the
other at the feet, kept silent watch over the precious
treasure-justice and mercy are associated in the work
of Christ; they are the supporters of the shield on
which the cross is emblazoned; they sustain the
arms of our heavenly Advocate; they form the two
solid and eternal pillars of the Mediator's throne. On
Calvary mercy and truth meet together, righteousness
and peace embrace each other.
These remarks may prepare our minds for entering
with advantage on the solemn subject of God's punitive justice; but, ere we open the prison, and look
down into the pit, I would further bespeak your can



MAN SUFFERING.                59
did and affectionate consideration of this very affecting and awful subject, by remarkingI. That God is slow to punish.
" He executeth not judgment speedily against the
workers of iniquity."  He does punish; he shall punish; with reverence be it spoken, he must punish.
Yet no hand of clock goes so slow as God's hand of
vengeance. Of that, the world, this city, and this
church, are witnesses; each and all, speaker and hearer, are living witnesses. It is too common to overlook
this fact; and, overlooking the kindness, long-suffering, and warnings which precede the punishment, we
are too apt to give the punishment itself our exclusive
attention. We see his kindness impressed on all his
works. Even the lion growls before he leaps, and before the snake strikes she springs her rattle.
Look, for example, on the catastrophe of the Deluge. We may have our attention so engrossed by
the dread and awful character of this judgment, as to
overlook all that preceded it, and see nothing but
these devouring waters.
The waters rise till rivers swell into lakes, and lakes
into seas, and along fertile plains the sea stretches
out her arms to seize their flying population. Still
the waters rise; and now, mingled with beasts that
terror has tamed, men climb to the mountain tops, the
flood roaring at their heels. Still the waters rise; and
now each summit stands above them like a separate
and sea-girt isle. Still the waters rise; and, crowding
closer on the narrow spaces of their lessening tops,
men and beasts fight for standing-room.  Still the
thunders roar and the waters rise, till the last survivor
of the shrieking crowd is washed off and the head of




60          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
the highest Alp goes down beneath the wave. And
now the waters rise no more; God's servant, has done
his work; he rests from his labors; and, all land
drowned-all life destroyed-an awful silence reigning, and a shoreless ocean rolling, Death for once has
nothing to do, but ride in triumph on the top of some
giant billow, which, meeting no coast, no continent,
no Alp, no Andes, to break upon, sweeps round and
round the world.
We stand aghast at this scene; and, as the corpses
of gentle children and sweet infants are floating by,
we exclaim, "Has God forgotten to be gracious-is
his mercy clean gone for ever?"  No; assuredly not.
Where, then, is his mercy? Look here; look at this
ark which, steered by an invisible hand, comes dimly
through the gloom. That lonely ship on a shoreless
sea carries mercy on board; and within walls that are
pitched without and within, she holds the costliest
freight that ever sailed the sea. The germs of the
church are there-the patriarchs of the old world, and
the fathers of the new. Suddenly, amid the awful
gloom, as she drifts over that dead and silent sea, a
grating noise is heard; she has grounded on the top
of Ararat. The door is opened; and beneath the
sign of the olive branch, they. come forth from their
baptismal burial, like life from the dead,-like souls
passing from nature into a state of grace,-like the
saints when they shall rise at the summons of the
trumpet to behold a new heaven and a new earth,
and to see the sign, which these " gray fathers" hailed,
encircling the head that was crowned with thorns.
Nor is this all. Our Heavenly Father's character
is dear to us; and I must remind you that ere mercy
flew, like the dove, to that asylum, she had swept the




MAN SUFFERING.               61
world with her wings. Were there but eight, only
eight saved? There were thousands, millions sought.
Nor is it justice to God to forget how long a period
of patience, and preaching and warning, and compassion, preceded that dreadful deluge. Long before the
lightning flashed from angry heavens; long before
thunders rolled along dissolving skies; long before
the clouds rained down death; long before the floor
and solid pavement of this earth, under the prodigious
agencies at work, broke up, like the deck of a leaking
ship, and the waters rushed from below to meet the
waters from above, and sink a guilty world; long before the time when the ark floated away by tower and
town, and those crowded hill-tops, where frantic
groups had clustered, and amid prayers and curses,
and shrieks and shouts, hung out their signals of distress-very long before this, God had been calling
an impenitent world to repentance. Had they no
warning in Noah's preaching? Was there nothing
to alarm them in the very sight of the ark as story
rose upon story; and nothing in the sound of those
ceaseless hammers to waken all but the dead?  It
was not till Mercy's arm grew weary ringing the
warning bell, that, to use the words of my text, God
"poured out his fury" on them. I appeal to the story of this awful judgment. True, for forty days it
rained incessantly, and for one hundred and fifty days
more "the waters prevailed on the earth;" but while
the period of God's justice is reckoned by days, the
period of his long-suffering was drawn out into years;
and there was a truce of one hundred and twenty
years between the first stroke of the bell and the first.crash of the thunder. Noah grew gray preaching repentance. The ark stood useless for years, a huge




62          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
laughing-stock for the scoffer's wit; it stood till it was
covered with the marks of age, and its builders with
the contempt of the world; and many a sneer had
these men to bear, as, pointing to the serene heavens
above and an empty ark below, the question was
put, "WVhere is the promise of his coming?" Most
patient God! Then, as now, thou wert slow to punish-" waiting to be gracious."
As that catastrophe and many other judgments
prove-he is slow to anger. God poured out his
fury; but his indignation was the volcano that groans
for days before it discharges the elements of destruction, and pours out its lavas on the vineyards at its
feet. Where, when God's anger has burned hottest,
was it ever known that judgment trod on the heels of
sin? A period always intervenes; room is given for
remonstrance on God's part, and repentance upon
ours. The stroke of judgment is indeed, like the
stroke of lightning, irresistible, fatal; it kills-kills in
the twinkling of an eye. But the clouds from which
it flashes are slow to gather, and thicken by degrees;
and he must be deeply engaged with the pleasures, or
engrossed in the business of the world, whom the
flash and peal surprise.  The gathering clouds, the
deepening gloom, the still and sultry air, the awful
silence, the big pattering rain-drops-these reveal his
danger to the traveler, and warn him from river,
road, or hill, to the nearest refuge. Heeded or unheeded, many are the warnings you get from God.
He has "1no pleasure in the death of the wicked;" he
is "not willing that any should perish, but that all
should turn to him and live; and no man ever yet
went to hell, but trampling under foot ten thousand
warnings,-ten times ten thousand mercies.




MAN SUFFERING.               63
Whatever injustice men may do themselVes-however reckless they may cast away salvation and their
souls, I demand justice for him whose ambassador I
am-for these mysteries of salvation of which I am a
steward. No doubt he says, "I poured out my fury
upon them;" but when was this done? Not till
divine patience was exhausted, and a succession of
servants had been commissioned to warn, to preach,
and plead with them. Remember the words of a
weeping Saviour, as he looked on the city from the
top of Olivet-" 0, Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that
killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent
unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy
children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens
under her wings, and ye would not! Could language
furnish terms more tender or pathetic than these?
Or those, in which God pours forth his affection for
this very people —" When Israel was a child, then I
loved him: I taught Ephraim also to go: taking
them by their arms, I drew them with the cords of a
man, and with bonds of love?" This language carries
us into the tenderest scenes of domestic life; it reminds us of a mother, who, when telling us how one
child had been blighted in the bud, and how another
had strayed from the paths of virtue, and how all the
sweet flowers of her home had withered away, bitterly
looked back on departed joys, and cried, as she wrung
her hands in a lonely cottage-" Ah! these were
happy days, when they were children at my knee."
Like a father who hangs over some unworthy son,
and, while his heart is torn by contending emotions,
hesitates what to do-whether once and for ever to
dismiss him, or to give him another trial —it is most
touching to see God bending over sinners, and this




64          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
flood of melting pathos bursting from his heart —
"I-low shall I give thee up, Ephraim? how shall I
deliver thee, Israel?  How shall I make thee as
Admah, how shall I set thee as Zeboim? Mine
heart is turned within me; my repentings are kindled
together. I will not execute the fierceness of mine
anger; I will not return to destroy Ephraim, for I am
God and not man."
Let us do the same justice to our Father in heaven
that we would render to an earthly parent. Would
it be doing a father justice to look at him only when
the rod is raised in his hand, and the child is on his
knees, and although the trembling lip, and weeping
eyes, and choked utterance of his boy, and a fond
mother's intercession also, all plead with him to spare,
he refuses. In this, how stern he looks! But before
you can know that father, or judge his heart aright,
you ought to know how often ere this the offence had
been forgiven; you should have heard with what
tender affection he had warned his child; and above
all, you should have stood at the back of his closet
door, and listened when he pleaded with God in his
behalf. Justice to him requires, that you should have
seen with what slow and lingering steps he went for
the rod, the trembling of his hand, and how, as the
tears fell from his eye, he raised it to heaven and
sought strength to inflict a punishment which, were
it to serve the purpose, he would a hundred times
sooner bear than inflict. When,-nursing his rage
for months, and coolly planning the atrocious murder,
— Absalom slew his brother, David was so shocked at
this horrible crime, that, although he permitted him
to return to Jerusalem, yet for two whole years he
refused to see him. His son, his eldest son, his




MAN SUFFERING.              65
favorite son, he would hold no intercourse with Absalom, nor speak to him, nor look on him. Would it
be justice to David to confine our attention to this?
Under that averted eye, and cold and stern aspect,
what a heart! Goaded on by ambition, this guilty
son next aims a blow at his father's life, and falls;
then the fountains of the great deep are opened, and
what a flood of feeling! What is it now to David,
his crown is safe, his throne secure? Absalom is
dead!  "Oh Absalom! my son, my son Absalom!
would God I had died for thee, Oh Absalom, my son,
my son!" And, would we do our heavenly father
justice, we must look on Calvary as well as on Eden.
The Son of God indeed does not go up and down
heaven weeping, wringing his hands, and, to the
amazement of silent angels, crying, Would God that
I had died for man! A more amazing spectacle is
here. I-Ie turns his back on heaven; he leaves the
bosom and happy fellowship of his Father, he bares
his own breast to the sword of justice, and in the
depths of a love never to be fathomed, he dies on that
accursed tree, "the just for the unjust that we might
be saved! "
Through this vestibule of love, mercy, and long
suffering, we have thought it well to introduce you
into the scenes of God's punitive justice. It is on
iron, softened by the glowing fire, that impressions
are made and left; and expecting good only when
what is terrible is associated with what is tender, we
have thought it well that you should see at the very
outset how slow God is to smite, how swift to save.
Swift fly the wings of mercy. Slow goes the hand
of justice; like the shadow on the sun-dial, ever
moving, yet creeping slowly on, with a motion all but




6    ~6'THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
imperceptible. Still let sinners stand in awe. The
hand of justice has not stopped, although imperceptibly, it steadily advances; by and by, having reached
the tenth, eleventh, twelfth hour, the bell strikes.
Then, unless you now flee to Christ, the blow which
was so slow to fall, shall descend on the head of impenitence with accumulated force. Let it never be
forgotten, that although God's patience is lasting, it is
not everlasting.
ObserveII. How he punished his ancient people.
This is furnished to our hand in many portions of
Scripture. For example, "Now, because ye have
done all these works, saith the Lord, and I spake unto
you, rising up early and speaking, but ye heard not;
and I called you, but ye answered not; therefore will
I do unto this house which is called by my name,
wherein ye trust, and unto the place which I gave to
you and to your fathers, as I have done to Shiloh.
And I will cast you out of my sight, as I have cast
out all your brethren, even the whole seed of Abraham. Therefore, pray not thou for this people, neither lift up cry nor prayer for them, neither make intercession to me; for I will not hear thee. The carcasses of this people shall be meat for the fowls of the
heaven, and for the beasts of the earth; and none shall
fray them away. Then will I cause to cease from the
cities of Judah, and from the streets of Jerusalem, the
voice of mirth, and the voice of gladnesi the voice of
the bridegroom, and the voice of the bride; for the,and shall be desolate. And death shall be chosen
rather than life by all the residue of them that remain
of this evil family, which remain in all the places




MAN SUFFERING.              67
whither I have driven them, saith the Lord of Hosts.
I will surely consume them, saith the Lord; there
shall be no grapes on the vine, nor figs on the figtree, and the leaf shall fade; and the things that I
have given them shall pass away from them. The
Lord our God hath put us to silence, and given us
water of gall to drink, because we have sinned against
the Lord. We looked for peace, but no good came;
and for a time of health, and behold trouble! The
snorting of his horses was heard from Dan; the whole
land trembled at the sound of the neighing of his
strong ones: for they are come, and have devoured
the land, and all that is in it-the city, and those that
dwell therein. The harvest is past, the summer is
ended, and we are not saved. I am black; astonishment hath taken hold on me. Is there no balm in
Gilead? Is there no physician there?  Why, then,
is not the health of the daughter of my people recovered?"
These were the children of Abraham, beloved for
the father's sake-the sole depositories of divine truth
-God's chosen people, through whose line and lineage
his Son was to appear. How solemn, then, and how
appropriate the question-" If such things were done
in the green tree, what shall be done in the dry?"
Look at Judah sitting amid the ruins of Jerusalem,
her temple without a worshiper, and her streets
choked with the dead: look at that bound, weeping,
bleeding remnant of the nation toiling, on its way to
Babylon: look at these broken, peeled, riven boughs;
and may I not warn you with the Apostle-" If God
spared not the natural branches, take heed lest he
spare not thee." We have seen an ancient mirror
from the sepulchers of Egypt, in which, some three




68          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
thousand years ago, the swathed and mummied form
beside whose dust it lay looked upon her face, to nurse
her vanity, or mourn her deformity. In the verses
quoted we have a mirror well nigh as old, in which
the prophet showed God's ancient people their likeness and their sins; and when I take it from the dead
man's hand, to hold it up before you, do not some of
you recognize, in the features which it presents, those
of your own state and character? Are they not to be
seen in such words as these, for instance-" I spake
unto you, rising up early, but ye heard not; I called
you, but ye answered not:" or these-" The harvest
is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved.",Are none of us the degenerate plants of a noble vine?
Are there none of us who, although trained to respect
the Sabbath, have forgotten the lesson of our childhood? none with a picture of their early days yet
fresh in memory, that exhibits a venerable father
bending over the Bible, and, with his family around
him, leading the domestic devotions, who have themselves no altar in their homes;-who have a house,
but no household God? Have none of us defrauded
our children, not of ancestral lands, but of what is infinitely more valuable, an ancestral piety? On the
walls of many a house from which piety has been expelled may we not read the words-" They did worse
than their fathers?"
If we speak thus, it is for your good. We would
not arm ourselves with these harsh thunders of the
law, except, in the words of Paul, " to persuade you
by the terrors of the Lord." We have no faith in terror disassociated from tenderness. Trusting more to
the process of drawing than driving men to Jesus, we
pray you to observe that he who is the good is also a




MAN SUFFERING.               69
most tender Shepherd. Among the nulis of our native
land I have met a shepherd far from the folds, driving
home a lost sheep-one which had "gone astray"-a
creature panting for breath, amazed, alarmed, footsore; and when the rocks around rang loud to the
baying of the dogs, I have seen them, whenever it
offered to turn from the path, with open mouth dashing fiercely at its sides, and thus hounding it home.
How differently Jesus brings home his lost ones!
The lost sheep sought and found, he lifts it, tenderly
lays it on his shoulder, and, retracing his steps, returns
with joy, and invites his neighbors to rejoice along
with him. The " green pastures" where he feeds his
flock, the rocks under whose grateful shadows they
repose in noontide of the day, the flowery and fragrant banks of the streams where they drink, are disturbed by no sounds of violence nor voice of terror.
Yes; Jesus rules his flock by love, not by fear; and
amid the holy calm of sweet Sabbath mornings, gentle
of countenance, he may be seen at their head, conducting them forth to pastures sparkling with the dews of
heaven, some sweet lamb in his arms, its mother at his
side, and all his flock behind him; his rod their guard,
and his voice their guide. Catching grace from his
lips, and tenderness from his looks, I would speak to
you as becomes the servant of such a gentle, lowly,
loving Master. Yet, shall I conceal God's verity, and
ruin men's souls to spare their feelings? Shall I sacrifice truth at the shrine of a false politeness? To
hide what Jesus revealed were not to be more tender,
but less faithful than He. If the taste of these days
were so degenerate as to frown down the honest
preacher who should pronounce that awful word
" Hell," and leavehim to vacant pews, it were better,




70          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
far better, that he should be as "one crying in the
wilderness," and getting no response but the echo of
empty walls, than that he should fail in proclaiming
"the whole counsel of God." Apart from your interests, and looking only at my own, how could I otherwise hold up these hands, and say, " They are clean
from the blood of all men?" How otherwise could
the preacher turn from his unhappy head the Bible's
closing curse-" If any man shall take away from the
words of this book, God shall take away his part out
of the book of life." Regard to myself, to you-regard to a gracious God, to a blessed Saviour-regard
to all that is precious, solemn, sacred, eternal-these
now compel me, although with trembling hands, to
lift the vail.
If any are living without God, and hope, and Christ,
and prayer, I implore them to look here: turn to this
dreadful pit. How it gleams with fire! How it resounds with woeful groans! Now, when we stand together on its margin, or rather shrink back with horror,
look there, and say, " Who can lie down in everlasting
burnings?"
It is alleged by travelers, that the ostrich, when
pursued by its hunters, will thrust its head into a bush,
and, without further attempt either at flight or resistance, quietly submit to the stroke of death. Men say
that, having thus succeeded in shutting the pursuers
out of its own sight, the bird is stupid enough to fancy
that it has shut itself out of theirs, and that the danger, which it has concealed from its eyes, has ceased to
exist. We doubt that. God makes no mistakes; and,
guided as the lower animals are in all their instincts
by infinite Wisdom, I fancy that a more correct knowledge of that creature would show, that whatever stu



MAN SUFFERING.               71
pidity there may be in the matter, lies not in the poor
bird, but in man's rash conclusion regarding it. Man
trusts to hopes which fail him: the spider never; she
commits her weight to no thread which she has spun,
till she has pulled on it with her arms, and proved its
strength. Misfortune overtakes man unprovided and
unprepared for it: not winter the busy bee. Amid
the blaze of gospel light, man misses his road to
heaven: without any light whatever, in the darkest
night, the swallows cleave their way through the pathless air, returning to the window-nook where they were
nestled; and through the depths of ocean the fish
steer their course back to the river where they were
spawned. If we would find folly, Solomon tells us
where to seek it:- "Folly," says the wise man, "is
bound up in the heart of a child:" and what is folded
up there, like leaves in their bud, blows out in the
deeds and habits of men. This poor bird, which has
thrust its head into the bush, and stands quietly to
receive the shot, has been hunted to death.  For
hours the cry of its pursuers has rung in its startled
ear; for hours their feet have been on its weary track;
it has exhausted strength, and breath, and'craft, and
cunning, to escape; and even yet, give it time to
breathe-give it another chance-and it is away with
the wind; and with wings outspread, on rapid feet it
spurns the burning sand. It is because escape is
hopeless and death is certain that it has buried its head
in that bush, and shut its eyes to a fate which it cannot avert. To man-rational and responsible manbelongs the folly of closing his eyes to a fate which
he may avert, and thrusting his head into the bush
while escape is possible; and, because he can put death,
and judgment, and eternity out of mind, living as if




72          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
there were neither a bed of death nor bar of judgment. Be wise: be men. Look your danger in the
face. Anticipate the day when you shall behold a
God in judgment and a world in flames; and now flee
to Jesus fiom the wrath to come. To come! In a
sense wrath has already come. The fire has caught,
it has seized your garments; you are in flames. Oh!
away then, and cast yourselves into that fountain which
has power to quench these fires, and cleanse you from
all your sins.




6 <Sf'      # it  ti te  t       t I t E
Wherefore I poured my fury upon them, and I scattered them among
the heathen, and they were dispersed through the countries: according to their way, and according to their doings, I judged
them.-EZEKIEL xxxvi. 18, 19.
THE dank mossy sward is deceitful: its fresh and
glossy carpet invites the traveler to leave the rough
moorland track; and, at the first step, horse and rider
are buried in the morass. The sea is deceitful. What
rage, what furious passions sleep in that placid bosom! and how often-as Vice serves her used-up victims-does she throw the bark that she received into
her wanton arms, a wreck upon the shore. The morning is oft deceitful. With bright promise of a brilliant
day it lures us from home; ere noon the sky begins
to thicken, the sun looks sickly, the sluggish, heavilyladen clouds gather upon the hill-tops, the landscape
all around closes in; the lark drops songless into her
nest; the wind rises, blowing cold and chill; and at
length-like adversities gathering round the grey head
of age-tempests, storm, and rain, thicken on the dying day. The desert is deceitful: it mocks the traveler with its mirage. How life kindles in his drooping eye, as he sees the playful waves chase each other
to the shore, and the plumes of the palm waving in
the watery mirror!    Faint, weary, perishing with
thirst, he turns to bathe and drink; and, exhausting
his remaining strength in pursuit of a phantom, finds,
unhappy man I that he has turned to die.
4




74.THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
Deceitful above sward, or sea, or sky, or enchanted desert, is the heart of man; nor do I know a
more marked or melancholy proof of this than that
which our light treatment of such weighty matters
as sin and judgment affords. There is no exaggeration in the prophet's language-" The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked."
Put a case:-The flames have broken out in some
house, and the fire spreads fast; at midnight the roll
of the drum wakens the sleeping streets-a fearful
sound! soon followed by the hurried yet measured
tramp of armed men, and the rush of a crowd, who,
guided by a glare that illumines the sky, and turns
night into ruddy day, pour on the scene of danger;
and where the flames, bursting out from cellar to roof,
shed their lurid light on glancing bayonets, strong
arms below are working as for life, and daring men
above, ever and anon lost among clouds of smoke,
turn the stream upon the hissing fire. In this stirring
scene, where is the tenant of the house? How is he
engaged? They thunder at the door; they call his
name; they rear the ladder against the window; and
now they shout to him to wake, and haste, and flee,
leaving house and furniture to the flames. They listen,
but no answer. Alas! he has perished? Help has
come too late? No; he lives: he has heard all that
horrid din. He smells the smoke; he feels the floor
grow hot, and hotter, beneath his feet; and amid the
thick and suffocating air the man gasps for breath.
He has heard the cries of kindly neighbors; the glass
of the window, as a strong hand dashes it in, falls at
his feet, and he sees the very ladder resting on its sill.
Well; has some ruffian hand bound him neck and
heel, that he does not move? or gagged him, that he




GOD'S PUNITIVE JUSTICE.         75
gives back no answer? Not at all. The man is busy,
very busy, ruminating on the question how the fire
began; or with some pugnacious neighbor, as insane
as himself, he is engaged in keen discussion about
when and where it first broke out. Incredible! yet
incredible as that appears, this heart is so deceitful,
that something less excusable and more incredible
still daily meets us in (what shall I call it?) the folly,
the insanity, of thousands. God has sounded the
alarum. Roused from sleep-in some sense convinced
of sin-in some measure awake to danger-the dream
of safety broken in upon-warned that there is no
time to spare-with the flames of wrath above, beneath, around, blocking up all the common avenues of
escape-the first, if not the only question, should be,
"Oh, Sirs, what shall I do?  Where shall I turn?
Quick; say, this moment say,' What shall I do to
be saved?'" Yet, when the only question is, how to
escape from impending, imminent danger, hours, days,
years, are wasted in inquiries and discussions such as
this-How the race came to be exposed to it.
Let theologians settle the metaphysics of the Fall;
their business may be to know how we became sinners; our first business is to know how we are to be
saved. Leave those who have reached the land to
settle how and on what reef the vessel struck; the
question with us, who still cling to the shrouds, or are
battling with the surf, is, how to gain yon blessed
shore. In God's name, and by God's help, get the
fire put out; and then, when the flames are quenched,
it will be time enough to consider how they were
kindled. Tie the bleeding artery; and when life is\
saved, settle, if you can, how it was wounded. When
you have plucked the drowning man from the water,




76           THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
and laid him   on the bank, and the color flushes
again on his cheek, and the pulse beats again at his
wrist, and speech again returns to these blue and
livid lips, then you may speculate on how he fell
into the flood. When, in spite of Satan, and by
God's help, we have wakened some careless one to
care about his soul, it is one of the devil's wiles to
distract his attention by such subjects, and amid the
mazes of their inextricable labyrinths to bewilder him,
who should be pressing on to salvation at the top
of his speed. I would have the man who is engaged in such an enterprise to give these questions
in the meanwhile the go-by-for once to apply well,
words so often applied ill-" I will hear thee again on
on this matter:" "when I have a more convenient
season I will send for thee." These are profound subjects, worthy of the investigations of angels and exalted saints. We could not apply to their study the
words of Nehemiah-" I have a great work to do;
therefore I can not come down." But in saving ourselves and others, I am sure that there is enough to
do, without occupying our attention with unsatisfactory speculations on moral evil, and the entrance of
sin into our world. In the first place, few have time
or talent for such studies. In the second place, although we had, we should find that, like going down
into a coal-pit, or the depths of ocean, the further
we descended the darker it grew: we should fare
no better than the fallen intelligences described by
Milton:"Others apart sate on a hill retired,
In thoughts more elevate, and reasoned high
Of Providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate —
Fixed fate, free will foreknowledge absolute



GOD'S PUNITIVE JUSTICE.          77
And found no end, in wandering mazes lost.
Of good and evil much they argued thereVain wisdom all, and false philosophy."
And in the third place, we may postpone these speculations till we enjoy the leisure of eternity, and can
examine subjects so obscure in the clear light of
heaven. Meanwhile, let it content us to be assured,
that the extent of our knowledge shall correspond to
the height of our elevation; and that, as a man, from
the bartisan of some lofty tower, or the summit of
some loftier mountain, commands a wider view and
broader landscape, and, in the course of rivers, the
ranges of hills, the outlines and indentations of the
coast, obtains a far more extensive view of objects,
and a much clearer conception of their relative bearings, than he enjoyed in the plain below; so, while
some subjects, like the snowy summits of the Himalayas or Andes, may remain for ever inaccessible, yet,
once raised to heaven, we shall understand many
mysteries, and solve many questions, connected with
sin and its sorrows, of which it is best now to say,
" Such knowledge is too high for me; I cannot attain
unto it." A child seated on the shoulders of a giant
may see further than the giant himself; and an infant
standing on the top of a mountain very much further
than the giant at its feet: and even so, the lisping
babe, whom Jesus has taken from a mother's bosom
to his own, excels in knowledge the profoundest of
philosophers and the greatest of divines. In heaven
we shall see as we are seen-we shall know as we are
known: there " the light of the moon shall be as the
light of the sun, and the light of the sun shall be
sevenfold."
In considering at greater length the punitive justice




78          THE GOSPEL IN EZEiEIBL.
of God, I shall not attempt to offer any full or satisfactory explanation of what is beyond our understanding. How a wise, holy, good, and gracious God
permitted what he certainly could have preventedpermitted sin to exist at all-is at present a mystery,
and may for ever remain one. With others, I might
contribute some attempts to solve that difficulty; but
I believe that, like all preceding efforts, these would
throw no more light on this vast and mysterious subject than a candle sheds on a widely extended landscape clothed in mist or wrapped in midnight darkness. Amid these awful and often painful mysteries,
we can only cling to the faith, and cherish an unshaken
confidence in this, that the Judge of all the earth doeth
right-that God at least is a King who can do no
wrong. To the man, then, who asks, Why am I born
with a bias to sin? Why has another's hand been
permitted to sow germs of evil in me? Why should
I, who was no party to the first covenant, be buried
in its ruins?if the Bible says in reply to the query" What mean ye, that ye use this proverb concerning
the land of Israel: the fathers have eaten sour grapes,
and the children's teeth are set on edge?" "As I live,
saith the Lord God, ye shall not have occasion any
longer to use this proverb in Israel," why, then, do I
suffer for Adam's sin? Why, most virulent of poisons!
should this sin infect the blood of a hundred generations? Why should I suffer for a crime committed
so long ago as six thousand years, and to which I no
more consented than to Cain's murder of Abel, or
Herod's massacre of the innocents? To these questions this is my reply: I shrink from sitting in judgment upon my Judge.     Clouds and darkness are
round about Jehovah now; but I am confident that,




GOD'S PUNITIVE JUSTICE.         79
when expiring Time cries, " It is finished," and the
vail of a present economy is rent, it shall be seen that
righteousness and judgment are the pillars of his
throne-that " there is no unrighteousness with God."
These questions open up an abyss respecting which
man's business is to adore, and not explore; and to
them, meanwhile, I have no other answer than the
great Apostle's, "Who art thou, O man I that repliest
against thy Maker? Shall the thing made say to him
who made it, why hast thou made me thus?"
But although the permission of sin is a mystery,
the fact of its punishment is no mystery at all; for,
while every answer to the question, How did God
permit sin? leaves us unsatisfied, to my mind nothing
is plainer than this, that, whatever was his reason for
permitting it to exist, God could not permit it to exist
unpunished. In proof of that, I observeI. The truth of God requires the punishment of sin.
"Take now thy son, thine only son Isaac, whom
thou lovest, and offer him for a burnt-offering on a
mountain that I will tell thee of." Startling announcement!-so startling, that it is not possible to suppose
that the alarmed, amazed, confounded patriarch received it at once-believed it without a dreadful
struggle. No; there never rung from mailed hand
or battle-axe such a stunning blow. What man, or
father, doubts that it made Abraham stagger, and
brought him to his knees? I think I hear him saying, "Take Isaac-take my son, the son of my love,
the son of promise, the miraculous gift of heavenoffer Isaac for a burnt-offering! Surely I dream.
What a dreadful fancy! Did my ears deceive me?
No: there was a voice; I heard it. It sounded like




80          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
the voice of God: could it be so? Was it for this
that angels announced his birth? Was it to be thus
rudely shaken off, that the old stock was made to
blossom, and this sweet fruit to grow on a withered
tree? Although this trembling hand could plunge
the knife into Isaac's bosom, would it not be most
honor to God to conclude that some demon, with
false and wicked mimicry, had borrowed Jehovah's
voice to lure me into a foul and monstrous crime, and,
getting me to embrue these hands in Isaac's blood, by
this horrid sacrifice to quench the light of heaven and
the hope of earth-in this sweet bud to crush an unblown salvation and unborn Saviour?" Now, whatever room Abraham might have had for doubt-whatever struggle faith had with unbelief in that father's
heart-we have no room nor pretence to doubt that,
however terrible its punishment, God has threatened
to punish sin, and, true to his word, shall pour out
his fury on the sinner's head. Christ is offered; and
ye cannot escape, if ye neglect this great salvation.
Had that truth been written only in one solitary
passage-within the whole compass of the Bible had
there been but one line to that effect-we might have
succeeded in persuading ourselves that its sense was
mistaken, and its terms misunderstood. But is it so?
Ah   no: there is letter upon letter, "line upon line,
precept upon precept, here a little and there a little."
God has recorded his irrevocable resolution, not in
one, but in a hundred passages; and reiterated in a
thousand ways the awful sentence-" The soul that
sinneth, it shall die."
Some have fancied that they honor God most when,
sinking all other attributes in mercy-indiscriminating mercy-they represent him as embracing the




GOD'S PUNITIVE JUSTICE.         81
world in his arms-and receiving to his bosom with
equal affection the sinners that hate, and the saints
that love Him. They cannot claim originality for this
idea: its authorship belongs to the "father of lies."
Satan said so before them. It is the very doctrine
that damned this world. The serpent said to the woman, "Thou shalt not surely die." Do you rest your
hope of salvation on such a baseless fancy? If so,
have you seriously considered in what aspect this
theory presents the God for whose honor you profess
such tender regard. We almost shrink from explaining it. You save the creature, but at a price more
costly than was paid for sinners upon the cross of
Calvary. Is there something dearer than life to me?
— to God there was something more precious than
even the blood of Jesus. I can part with my life, but
not my honor;-and God could part with his Son,
but not with his truth. But let sin go unpunished,
either in person or substitute: this saves the sinnerno doubt of that; but at what price? You save the
creature's life at the expense of the Creator's honor.
Your scheme exalts man; but far more than man is
exalted is God degraded. By this scheme no man is
lost; but there is a greater loss-something more
awful happens: the truth of God is lost; his crown
loses its topmost jewel, and the throne of the universe
is shaken to its foundations. It is as manifest as daylight that God's truth and your scheme cannot stand
together. "Liar" stands against either God or you;
and, in the words of the Apostle, you " make God a
liar."
Nor is that all: my faith has lost the very rock it
stood on, and stood on —as I flattered myself —steadfast, immovable; for, however awful the threatenings
4*




82          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
in his Word may be, if God is not true to them, what
security have I, or any man, that he will be true to
its gracious promises? The rod which bends in one
direction will prove as supple in another; and, since
the truth of a Heaven stands upon the very same
foundation as the truth of a Hell-the one upon the
promise, the other upon the threatening, and both alike
upon the simple word of God-why, then, the scheme
which quenches the fears of the wicked extinguishes
the hopes of the just. If he that believeth not shall
not be condemned, farewell-a long and sad farewell
-to my happy confidence that he that believeth shall
be saved. I cannot consent that you should pull
down my heaven, to build with its ruins, not a temple
to justice, but an asylum for crime. Away with such
a scheme. It is fatal to the peace of God's people. It
is essentially blasphemous and dishonoring to their
God. It makes God a liar. Making him do wrong,
how can it be right? making him untrue, it must be
itself untrue. We reject it with horror. It is a snare
of the Evil One; and happy should we be to think
that we had helped any of his captives out, and sent
them singing, as on wings of faith they soared away
to heaven, "My soul is escaped as a bird out of the
fowler's snare: the snare is broken, and I am escaped."
II. The love of God requires that sin should be
punished.
You may start at this. Love requires punishment?
Had we said the justice, or holiness, or purity of God,
we, no doubt, should have used an expression less
startling, and more sure to command a ready assent.
These attributes present strong positions, within which




GOD'S PUNITIVE JUSTICE.         83
it may be admitted that we could entrench this doctrine
-impregnable to all assaults. On that very account
it is that in this brief discussion we pass these by, and,
confident in the strength of our cause, select, of very
purpose, although some may think unwisely, what
they deem the weakest argument and point of defence. Now I find one of the strongest and most affecting proofs that the impenitent and unbelieving
shall not go unpunished, just in that tenderest of all
subjects, the love of God; and I think that I could
close with the man who uses this love to prove that
sin shall go unpunished; and having wrested that
weapon from his hand, take off the head of his argument with his own sword. I say of this love of
God, what David said of Goliath's sword, " there is
none like that-give it me."
Lend me your candid attention —open your minds
-and I think it will not be difficult to convince you,
that the love of God-which is a sevenfold shield to
the believer —not merely consents. to, but demands,
the condemnation, as it aggravates the guilt, of the
impenitent. Let me at once prove and illustrate the
point by a piece of plain analogy:-This city, nay,
the whole land, is shaken by the news of some most
cruel, bloody, monstrous crime. Fear seizes hold of
the public mind; pale horror sits on all men's faces;
doors are double barred; and justice lets loose the
hounds of law on the track of the criminal. At length,
to the relief and joy of all honest citizens, he is caught.
He is tried, condemned, laid in irons, and waits but
the sentence to be signed. To save or slay-to hang
or pardon-is now the question with him whose prerogative it is to do either; and by what motive is the
sovereign impelled to shut up his bowels of mercy,




84          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
and sign the warrant for execution?  Is it want of
pity? No; the pen is taken with reluctance; it
trembles in his hand, and tears of compassion for this
guilty wretch drop on the page he signs. Now it is
not so much abhorrence of the guilty, as love of the
innocent, and regard for their peace, purity, and honor,
that dooms this man to die. If he were pardoned,
and his crime allowed to go unpunished, neither
man's life nor woman's virtue were safe; unless this
felon dies, the peace and purity of a thousand happy
families lie open to foul attack; and thus, love for
those who have the best claim on a sovereign's protection, requires that the guilty die. That the community may live in peace, each man sitting beneath
his own vine and fig-tree-that the citizen may feel
himself safe in the bosom of his family-that streets
may be safe to walk on-that beds may be safe to lie
in-that our land may be a country fit to live incrime must be punished. The magistrate who would
reward obedience must punish rebellion; nor can he
be a praise and protection to them that do good, but
by making himself a terror to them that do evil.
There are scenes of domestic suffering which present another, no less convincing, and more touching
analogy. I refer to those distressing cases where natural affection yields to the holiest parental duty; and
where, although she thereby inflicts on her own bosom
a wound time never heals, Love seizes the knife, and,
lest the canker should extend to the other branches,
lops off some once pleasant bough from the family
tree. It has happened that, from love and regard to
the interest of his other children-to save them from
a brother's contamination-a kind parent has felt constrained to banish his son, and forbid him a father's




GOD'S PUNITIVE JUSTICE.         85
house. It is sad to think that he may be lost; the
dread of that goes like a knife into the heart; yet,
bitter truth! painful conclusion! it is better that one
child be lost than a whole family be lost. These lambs
claim protection from the wolf; he must be driven
forth from the fold; weeping Love herself demands
this sacrifice; and, just because it is most lacerating,
most excruciating, to a parent's heart, it is in such a
case the highest and holiest exercise of parental love
to bar the door against a child. There have been parents so weak and foolish as to peril the morals, the
fortunes, the souls of their other children, rather than
punish one; and in consequence of this I have seen
sin, like a fever, infect every member of the family,
and vice ferment and spread till it had leavened the
whole lump. Divine Love, however, is no blind Divinity: and that love being as wise as tender, sinners
may rest assured, that out of mere pity to them, God
will neither sacrifice the interests, nor peril the happiness of his people. Love herself —bleeding, dying,
redeeming love-with her own hand will bar the door
of heaven, and from its happy, holy precincts, exclude
all that could hurt or defile. Stern words these! and
when Love puts on her armor, to fight against., him,
what hope for the man who has compelled her to be
his enemy? Having armed Love against you, where
now are you flying? Look at this scene of judgment.
He who died on the cross occupies the throne. Love
incarnate presides at that august tribunal. The print
of the nail is on the very hand which waves away the
lost into perdition. The voice which so often invited
the impenitent is that which now condemns and commands them to depart. Calmly, serenely anticipating
that day, Faith says,' It is God that justifieth; who




86         TTHE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
is he that shall condemn?" But oh! if Jesus Christ
condemn, who shall justify? If He spare not, who
shall save? From the wrath of the Lamb which impenitence has changed into the wrath of a Lion, despair turns away a face covered with the blackness of
darkness, to cry as she wrings her hands, ("The great
day of his wrath is come, and who shall be able to
stand?" If the Lamb of God-if the Love of God be
our adversary, our case is desperate. Oh! take warning in time, that you be not lost for Eternity. " Kiss
the Son, lest he be angry, and ye perish from the way,
when his wrath is kindled but a little."  "Blessed are
all they that put their trust in him."
III. Unless sin is to be awfully punished, the language of Scripture appears extravagant.
Next to the suffering is the sight of pain to a man
of tender feelings: nor, but for your good, would I
ask any one to cast even a hurried glance on those
appalling pictures which the Bible reveals. But if
men, for the mere gratification of taste-if the lovers
of the fine arts-crowd to some picture of the damned
-a scene of the last Judgment painted by a master's
hand, where hideous demons torment shrieking victims, and drag the seven deadly Sins down into the
gulf of fire-when, as far as the heavens do the earth,
the preacher's object transcends the painter's, and the
salvation of souls the gratification of taste-when my
object is not to please your fancy, but profit your
souls-shall that be condemned in the pulpit which is
so much applauded in the painting? Where the
highest interests are at stake, shall I be judged harsh,
and showing no regard to feeling and propriety, because I ask you to turn your eyes on this spectacle-s




GOD'S PUNITIVE JUSTICE.         87
on a worm that never dieth, and this fire that is never
quenched? Oh    let me beseech, implore you, to read
with tears and prayers those passages of Scripture that
reveal the miseries of the lost. Blot not from your
minds what you cannot blot out of the Book of God.
What is so sad —what so strongly and sadly illustrates the wicked deceitfulness of this heart —as the
entertainment which men extract from the solemnities
of judgment? Only think of those, who turn away
with ill-disguised distaste from the very mention of
such subjects in the house of God, crowding a brilliant
saloon to hear this same judgment set to music, and
listen with loud and rapturous applauses to the hired
musicians, who give a bold (shall I say profane) imitation of the trumpet that rends the grave, of the
thunders that announce the Judge, the song of adoring
angels, the shouts of ransomed saints, and-for any
thing I know-the awful shrieks of the damned!
Think of this; think of criminals leaving the bar to
set their sentence to music!  W.hen their life is a
matter of hours, and its few remaining sands should
be given to prayer and God's book of mercy, think
of men, shut up in a cell, and drawing on its walls a
wretched caricature of their judge, the gallows, the
mighty crowd, the victim turning round on his cord,
with eyeballs that protrude beneath the cap, and
limbs convulsed in the very agony of death I
The sufferings and misery which awaits the impenitent and unbelieving, God has painted in most appalling colors. To save us from them, his Son left the
heavens and died on a cross. When Paul thought of
these, he wept like a woman. A dauntless man, who
shook his chain in the face of kings-whose spirit no
sufferings could subdue, and whose heart no dangers




88          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
could appall-who stood as unmoved amid a thousand
perils as ever rock amid a thousand billows-he could
not contemplate these without the deepest emotion;
his tears fell fast and thick upon the page where he
wrote, "of whom I have told you often, and now tell
you even weeping, whose god is their belly, whose
end is destruction."
What horror did David feel at the sight and fate of
sinners? With his blind face turned up to heaven,
you see a man approach the edge of an awful precipice: every step brings him  nearer-still nearer,
the brink. Now he reaches it: he stands on the
grassy edge. Oh for an arm to reach him-for a
voice to warn him-for a blow to send him staggering
back upon the ground! But he has lifted his foot;
it is projected beyond the brink; another moment, a
breath of wind, the least change of balance, and he is
whirling twenty fathoms down. You stop your ears,
close your eyes, turn away your head; horror has
taken hold of you. And such were David's feelings
when he contemplated the sins and fate of the wicked:
"Horror hath taken hold upon me, because of the
wicked that forsake thy law: rivers of water run
down mine eyes, because they keep not thy law, O
God." The wrath of God is the key to David's
sorrow, to an Apostle's tears, to the bloody mysteries
of the Cross. That was the necessity which drew a
Saviour down. Had that wrath been tolerable or
terminable, the sword of Justice had never been dyed
with the blood, nor sheathed in the body of such a
noble victim; and if there is a need be for the lightest
cross that lies on a good man's lot, how great the
necessity for that upon which the Saviour died!
God is not willing that you should perish, and by




GOD'S PUNITIVE JUSTICE.         89
these terrors of the Lord we would persuade you.
Meditate on these words: pray over them-" Woe to
the man that striveth with his Maker!" "Who can
lie down in everlasting burnings?"  "The wicked
shall be cast into hell, and all the nations that forget
God."
Rather than that you should perish, I would even
thus persuade you. Oh! there are terrors enough in
the Bible to make a man's hair stand on end. Surely,
were God but for one moment to let this world hear
the weeping and wail of the lost, that sound, more
terrible than Egypt's midnight cry, would rouse the
student at his books, arrest the foot of dancer in the
ball, stop armies in the very fury of the fight, and,
calling a sleeping world from their beds, would bend
the most stubborn knees, and extort from all the one
loud cry, "Lord, save me, I perish!" Still it is not
terror which is the mighty power of God. The
Gospel, like most medicines for the body, is of a com.
pound nature; but, whatever else enters into its composition, its curative element is love. No man yet
was ever driven to heaven: he must be drawn to it;
and I wish to draw you. The Gospel has terror in it,
no doubt. But it is like our atmosphere-occasionally
riven by the thunder, and illuminated by the fatal
flash-it is at times the path of the stealthy pestilence-charged with elements of destruction, and
impregnated with the seeds of disease; but how
much more is not a great magazine of health, filled
with the most harmonious sounds, fragrant with the
sweetest odors, hung.with golden drapery, the pathway of sunbeams, the womb of showers, the feeder of
flowing streams, full of God's goodness, and the
fountain of all Earth's life I And, just as in that




90          THE GOSPEL IN EZIKIEL.
atmosphere, which God has wrapped round this
world, there is much more health than sickness, much
more food than famine, much more life than death, so
in the Bible there is much more love than terror.
The terror is not only subordinate to love, but
subservient to it. God, indeed, tells us of hell, but
it is to persuade us to go to heaven; and, as a skillful
painter fills the background of his picture with his
darker colors, God puts in the smoke of torment and
the black clouds of Sinai, to give brighter prominence
to Jesus, the cross of Calvary, and his love to the
chief of sinners. His voice of terror is like the scream
of the mother bird when the hawk is in the sky.
She alarms her brood that they may run and hide
beneath her feathers; and as I believe that God had
left that mother dumb unless he had given her wings
to cover her little ones, I am sure that He, who is
very " pitiful," and has no pleasure in any creature's
pain, had never turned our eyes to the horrible gulf
unless for the voice that cries, "IDeliver from going
down to the pit, for I have found a ransom." We
had never heard of sin had there been no Saviour;
nor of hell had there been no heaven. "Sufficient
for the day is the evil thereof;" and never had Bible
light been flashed before the eyes of the sleeping
felon to wake him from his happy dream, but that he
might see the smiling form of Mercy, and hear her,
as she says with pointing finger, "Behold, I have set
before thee an open door."




I do this for mine holy name's sake.-EzEKIEL xxxvi. 22.
THERE is a land lying beneath a burning sky, where
the fields are seldom screened by a cloud, and almost
never refreshed by a shower; and yet Egypt-for it
is of it I speak-is as remarkable for the fertile character of its soil as for the hoar antiquity of its history.
At least, it was so in days of old, when hungry nations
were fed by its harvests, and its fields were the granaries of ancient Rome. Powers so prolific Egypt owed
to the Nile-that river whose associations carry us upward to the beginning of all human history —upon
whose banks, in the sepulchers of forgotten kings,
stand the proudest monuments of'human vanity-a
river, the very name of which recalls some of the
grandest scenes that have been acted on the stage of
time. The Nile is Egypt; in the course of long ages
it has deposited her soil, and by an annual overflow it
maintains her fertility. The limits of that flood are
the limits of life and verdure; and without her Nile
-that great artery of vegetable life-she would be
another Sahara-a vast expanse of burning and barren sands. Humbled as she now is, let this gift of
heaven be improved, as of old, by the skill and industry of her inhabitants, and, vivified by a free and
Christian government, Egypt would rise from the
sepulchers of her kings, and take a place once more
in the van of nations. The Truth shall prove her re



92          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
surrection. The Gospel shall restore her to life and
prosperity; and the day is coming when that landrich now only in memories of the past, famous now
only for her temples and gods, her pyramids and
dusty tombs, for her throne of the Pharaohs, for her
sacred stream, for the wonders God wrought of old in
the field of Zoan, and, most dear above all to Christian hearts, for the asylum she opened to an infant
Saviour-shall fulfill a noble destiny. Her day approaches. These prophecies regarding her wait their
accomplishment-" The Lord shall be known in
Egypt;" and, " Blessed be Egypt, my people."
From the earliest ages the source of this famous
river was regarded with intensest interest. Whence
it sprung, and how its annual flood was swelled, were
the subjects of eager but ungratified curiosity. One
traveler after another had attempted to reach its
cradle, and had failed or fallen in the attempt; and
when-forcing his way upwards through many difficulties, and traveling along its banks, from where,
by many mouths, it disgorged its waters into the sea,
till its ample volume had shrunk into the narrowness
of a mountain stream-our hardy countryman at
length stood beside the long sought for fountain, he
won for himself, by the achievement, an immortal
reputation. I can fancy the pride with which, first
of travelers, he looked on that mysterious fountain.
How sweet its waters tasted! How he enjoyed his
triumph, as he sat down by the cradle of a river,
which had fed the millions of successive generations,
and in days long gone by had saved in famine the
race which gave a Redeemer to the world!
Now, what this river, which turns barren sands
into the richest soil, is to Egypt, the Gospel of Jesus




GOD'S MOTIVE IN SALVATION.        93
Christ is to the world. It flows through the earth,
the " river of the waters of life." Whether they now
bloom in heaven, or are still in the nurseries of earth,
every plant of grace owes to the Gospel its existence
and renown. Observe, however, that-although the
parent of those harvests which angels shall reap and
the heavens receive-no more in the case of the Gospel than of the Nile does the bounty of heaven suspend or supersede human exertions.  No; but on
earth's improvement of heaven's bounty the blessings
of both are commonly suspended. "The hand of the
diligent maketh rich:" and as it is according to the
industry or indolence of the inhabitants, that the Nile
flows through barren sands, or waters smiling fields,
so is it with the Gospel. It is a blessing only where
it is sedulously and prayerfully improved, and when,
like the overflowings of the Nile, which are conducted
along their channels to irrigate its shores, those living
waters, through the use of means, are turned on our
hearts and habits.  " Not the hearers of the law are
just before God, but the doers of the law shall be justified."
Now, if it is interesting to trace a Nile or Amazon
to its source, how much more interesting to a Christian
to explore the stream of eternal life, and trace it upward till we have reached the fountain. Bruce discovered-or thought he had discovered-the springs
of Egypt's river: he found them away among cloudcapped mountains, at an elevation of many thousand
feet above the plains they watered. Great men have
been born in humble circumstances; but all great
rivers boast of their lofty descent. It is when the
traveler has left smiling valleys far beneath him, and
toiling along rugged glens, and, pressing through deep




94          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
mountain gorges, he at length reaches the chill shores
of an icy sea, that he stands at the source of the Alpine
river, which, cold as the snows that feed it, and a full
grown stream at its birth, rushes out from the caverns
of the hollowed glacier. But with that lofty birthplace it is only a humble image of salvation. How
high its source! " IHe showed me a pure river of wa
ter of life, clear as crystal, proceding out of the throne
of God and of the Lamb." The stream of mercy flows
from the throne of the Eternal; and here we seem to
stand by its mysterious fountain: in contemplating
the words of the text, we look upon its spring-" I do
this for mine holy name's sake."
In now entering on the question, What moved God
to save man? let us-~i
I. Attend tOd~e expression, "my name's sake."
This is a mao~t comprehensive term. It indicates
much moroethan what, in common language, is involved iniaaname. No doubt a name may sometimes
convey fmuch meaning. " Adam," for instance, means
"clay;" made of earth, he receives a name that reminds him  of his origin.  "Isaac," again, means
"laughter;" and in her son's name God rebuked Sarah for the merriment with which, when listening with
a woman's curiosity behind the door, she heard of her
coming child, and of fruit growing on such an old
and withered stock as she was.  "Moses," again,
means "drawn from the water;" and his name reminded him, who was to deliver others, how he himself had been delivered from death. And in the name
"Jesus," our Lord received a name that revealed his
office and anticipated his work-the angel said,' Thou shalt call his name Jesus, for he shall save his




GOD'S MOTIVE IN SALVATION.        95
people from their sins." Commonly, however, a man's
name gives no idea of his properties, character, history, works, or life, and is nothing more than an appellation which he receives in infancy, and receivessince the flower is still in the bud-before his fortune
can be told, or his character even guessed at. "What's
in a name?" Its chief end is just to prevent confusion, and distinguish one person from another.
The name of God, however, as employed by the
sacred writers, has many and most important meanings. In the 20th Psalm, for instance, it embraces all
the attributes of the Godhead. "The name of the
God of Jacob defend thee;" that is-if paraphrasedmay his arms be around thee; may his wisdom guide
thee; may his power support thee; the bounty of
God supply thy wants; the mercy of God forgive thy
sins; the shield of heaven be over, and all its blessings on thee. In the days of miracles, again, the
name of Jesus carried with it the idea of his authority,
and of the efficacy of his power. Uttered-by the lips
of faith, that name was a word of resistless might. It
healed disease, shed light on darkness, and breathed
life into cold death; it mastered devils, controlled the
powers of hell, and commanded into immediate obedience the rudest elements of nature. Like Pharaoh's
signet on Joseph's hand, he who used that name in
faith, was for the time gifted with his Master's power;
whatever he loosed on earth was loosed in heaven;
and whatever he bound on earth, was bound in heaven.
Standing over a cripple-one impotent from his
mother's womb-Peter looked on his deformity, and
said, " In the name of Jesus of Nazareth, rise up and
walk." And, lo! he who had never stood erect till
now, bounded from the earth, and, in the joyful play




96          TIHE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
of new-born faculties, walking, leaping, dancing, singing, he ushered the Apostles into the astonished temple. Powerful, like prayer, or any other means of
grace, as was this name when used by faith, yet on
the lips of the unbelieving no name more useless;
like a residuum from which the spirit had been evaporated, or a body bereft of life, it possessed no virtue
or power at all. There was no charm in the mere
name of Jesus, either to pour light on a blind man's
eyeball, or restore vigor to a withered limb. See how
Sceva's seven sons learn that to their cost! Profaning
this holy name, and employing it in their arts of
witchcraft, they use it to cast out a devil; andthemselves Satan's servants-they find that "Beelzebub casts not out devils." "Jesus I know, and Paul I
know," says the Evil One, "but who are ye?" Hell
disowns their authority; the Demon defies them; he
leaps on them with the fury of a savage beast; andtheirs the fate of the engineer who is hoised on his
own petard-they are driven ofi, disgraced and
wounded, from the field.
Again, in Micah, iv. 5, where it is said, "We will
walk in the name of the Lord," the expression assumes
a new meaning, and indicates the laws, statutes, and
commandments of God. Again, in the beautiful and
blessed promise, "In all places where I record my
name, there will I come unto thee and bless thee,"
the expression bears yet another meaning: it stands
for God's ordinances and worship-rearing, as it
were, by the hands of faith, a holy temple out of the
rudest edifice, and converting into heaven-consecrated
churches those rocky fastnesses and lonely moors
where our fathers worshiped in the dark days of
old. Contenting ourselves with these illustrations of




GOD'S MOTIVE IN SALVATION.        97
the various meanings of this expression in Scripture,
I now remark, that here the "name" of God comprehends every thing, which directly or remotely affects
the divine honor and glory; whatever touches, to use
the words of our catechism, "His titles, attributes,
ordinances, word, or works; or any thing whereby
God maketh himself known."
II. We are to understand that the motive which
moved God to save man was regard to his own glory.
"Where is boasting then?" we may ask with the
Apostle, and leave him to answer, "it is excluded."
If salvation is not of merit, but of mercy-not of
earth, but heaven-not of blood, nor of the will of
the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God"-" Not
by might nor by power, but my Spirit, saith the
Lord of Hosts," it is beyond all doubt "excluded."
Grace glorifies man, no doubt; but for what purpose?
that he may glorify God. It saves man, but saves
him that he may sing, not his own praises, but a
Saviour's. It exalts man, but exalts him, that, like
an exhalation, sun-drawn from the ground, and raised
to heaven, each of us may form a sparkling drop in
the bow, which encircles the head that God crowns
with glory, and man once crowned with thorns.
Even our Lord himself, although in a sense the
"fellow" of his Father, and reckoning it no robbery
to make himself equal with God, kept his eye steadily
on that lofty mark. His Father's, not his own glory,
was the burden of Jesus' prayers and the end of Jesus'
sufferings: born for it in a stable, he bled for it on a
cross, and was buried for it in a sepulcher. When,
on the solemn eve of his last and awful sufferings,
our champion buckled on his armor for the closing




98          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
struggle, ere he joined battle with men, with death,
and with him that had the power of death, that is, the
devil, was not this his prayer-" Father, glorify thy
Son, that thy Son also may glorify thee?" Dutiful
Son! Pattern to all children of filial piety! Thou
didst forget thine own sufferings in a mother's; and
was more concerned for thy Father's honor than thine
own.
This doctrine, that God saves men for his own
glory, is a grand and very precious truth; yet there
is a way of stating it which seems as offensive as it is
unscriptural. Concave mirrors magnify the features
nearest to them into undue and monstrous size; and
in common mirrors, ill cast and of uneven surface,
the most beautiful face is distorted into deformity.
And, as if their minds were of such a cast and character, there are some good men who, not exhibiting
Bible truth in its proper harmony and proportions,
represent Jesus Christ in this matter of salvation as
affected by no motive whatever but a regard to his
Father's glory, and even God himself as moved only
by respect to his own. Excluding from their view
the commiseration and love of God, or reducing
these into very shrunk dimensions, they magnify one
doctrine at the expense of another, and, indeed, go to
sever some of the most sacred and tender ties which
bind a believer to his God. Now, it appears to us
that this ill-proportioned theology —the doctrine that
the only motive in redemption was a regard to God's
glory —receives no countenance from the Bible. Does
not God "pity us, as a father pitieth his children?"
Taught to address Him by the endearing appellation
of Father, Oh what affection, love, and loving-kindness, are expressed in that tender term! And if, on




GOD'S MOTIVE IN SALVATION.        99
seeing some earthly father, whom a child's scream
has reached and roused, rush up the blazing stairs, or
leap into the boiling flood, it were wrong, it were
cruel, it were a shame, to suspect him of being destitute of affection —of being moved to this noble act
by no other motive than a regard to his own honorand by no other voice than the calm command of
duty —how much more wrong were it to harbor such
suspicions of " our Father who is in heaven."
I know that we should approach so high a theme
with the greatest reverence, and that it becomes us to
speak on such a subject, and, indeed, on any thing
that touches the secret movements of the Divine
mind, with most profound humility. Yet, reasoning
from the form of the shadow to the object which
projects it-from man to God —I would venture to
say, that it is with Him as with us, when we are
moved to a single action by the united influence of
various motives. To borrow an example from the
place I fill: —The minister, worthy of his office,
appears before his assembled people to preach; and,
in doing so, he is moved by a variety of motives.
Love to God, love to Jesus, love to sinners, love to
saints, a regard to God's glory, and regard to man's
good: these, like the air, water, light, heat, electricity,
gravitation, which act together in the process of vegetation, may all combine to form one sermon. They
are present, and act not as conflicting but concurring motives in the preacher's breast. This difference, however, there always is between us and God,
that although our motives-like the Rhone, which is
formed of two rivers, the one pure as the sky above
it, the other turbid and discolored-are ever mixtures
of good and evil, all the emotions of the Divine mind,




100         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
all the influences that move God to action, are of the
purest nature.
God cherishes, indeed, such respect to his own
glory, that, had the salvation of the world been incompatible with that —this world had been left to
perish. Dreadful thought! How should we adore
and extol the wisdom which discovered a way to harmonize the glory of God, and the good of men. He
was moved by regard to both. It is an imperfect
vision that sees but one motive. This lofty subject
resembles those binary stars which look to the naked
eye as but one, but which, brought into the field of
the telescope, resolve themselves into two orbs, rolling
in their brightness and beauty around a common
center. Blessed be his holy name!  "He so loved
the world, that He gave his only begotten Son, that
whosoever believeth on. Him should not perish, but
should have everlasting life." " He commendeth his
love to us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ
died for us." Never, therefore, let us exalt this doctrine of the divine glory, at the expense of the divine
love. God's love to sinners is his mightiest, his
heart-softening argument; and it were doing Him, his
gospel, and our own souls great injustice, if we should
overlook the love that gives Divinity its name, and
which, sending in his Son a Saviour from the Father's
bosom, was eulogized by an Apostle as possessed of a
"height, and depth, and breadth, and length, which
passeth knowledge."
III. Observe, that in saving man for his "holy
name's sake," or for his own honor and glory, God
exhibits the mercy, holiness, love, and other attributes
of the Godhead.




GOD'S MOTIVE IN SALVATION.       101
The truth is, that God saves man for much the same
reasons as at first he made him. Why did God make
man? What moved God to make him? The ball
rolls forward over the ground, and the ship moves onward through the sea, by virtue of an external forcethe hand projects the one, and the wind, caught in her
sails, impels the other. But no foreign agent imparted
an impulse to creating power; nor did any one command or compel God to make man. It is his prerogative to command-the creature's duty to obey. Why,
then, did He make man? Did He need to make him?
Was it with Him as with some lordly master, who
depends for his comfort on his servants?-as with a
king, whose glory lies in the numbers of his courtiers,
or the brilliancy of his court?-as with the greatest
general, who owes his victories to the bravery of his
soldiers, and who, whatever his military skill, would
win no battles and wear no laurels without an army
at his back? Assuredly not. "Our goodness extendeth not to Thee;" our wealth makes God no
richer, our praise makes Him no happier. "Hear, 0
my people, and I will speak. I will take no bullock
out of thy house, or he-goat out of thy fold; for every
beast of the forest is mine, and the cattle upon a
thousand hills. I know all the fowls of the mountains
and the wild beasts of the field are mine. If I were
hungry, I would not tell thee, for the world is mine,
and the fullness thereof."
What moved God, then, to make man? or, to enlarge the question so as to embrace creation, when
there was neither world rolling, nor sun shining, nor
angel singing-when there was neither life nor death,
nor birth nor burial, nor sight nor sound, no wave of
ocean breaking, no wing of angel moving-when, as




102          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
in a past eternity, God dwelt alone in silent, solemn,
awful, but happy solitude, what moved Him to make
creatures at all, or with these worlds, suns and systems,
to garnish the heavens, and people an empty universe?
These are the deep things of God, and it becomes finite
and fallible minds such as ours to approach them
modestly. If the fabric of nature, if the machine of
Providence, with its wheels rolling within wheels in
many and complicated parts-if these, and the scheme
of redemption, are full of inscrutable mysteries-how
much more the vast mind that designed and executed
them! The meanest of his works are full of Himself,
and of mysteries which, when apprehended, are not
comprehended. If I adore divinity in the humble
daisy; and if in the creature, that lives for a day and
dances in a sunbeam, I see the wisdom that made the
sun-how can I lay aside the telescope by which I
have held communion with the distant heavens, or the
microscope that reveals a world of wonders in one
drop of water, without concluding that, if the works
of God are so wonderful, how much more wonderful
his own infinite and eternal mind?
"These are thy glorious works, Parent of good,
Almighty! thine this universal frame,
Thus wondrous fair: thyself how wondrous then
Unspeakable! who sitt'st above these heavens,
To us invisible, or dimly seen
In these thy lowest works; yet these declare
Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine."
By turning the eye inward, however, on our own
mind, we can form some conception of the divine
mind, even as a captive child, born and retained in a
dark dungeon, may learn some notion of the sun from
the beam that, streaming through a chink of the riven




GOD'S MOTIVE IN SALVATION.        103
wall, travels the gray lonely floor; or even as, although I had never walked its pebbly shore, nor
heard the voice of its thundering breakers, nor played
with its swelling waves, I could still form some feeble
conception of the ocean from a lake, from a pool,
from a little drop of water, even from this sparkling
dew-drop, which, born from the womb of night, and
cradled in the bosom of a flower, lies waiting, like a
soul under the sun of righteousness, to be exhaled to
heaven.
Look at man, then: be he a poet or a philosopher,
a man of mechanical genius or artistic skill, a statesman or a philanthropist, or, better than all, a man who
glows with piety: we see that his happiness does not
lie in indolence, but in the gratification of his tastes
and feelings, and the active exercise of his faculties.
Assume the same to be true of God-a conception
which, while it exalts, endears our Heavenly Father.
It presents Him in this most winning and attractive
aspect, that the very happiness of Godhead lies in the
forth-putting-along with other attributes-of his
goodness, love, and mercy. Now, we may be mistaken, and I would not venture to speak dogmatically
here; yet this does appear to shed a ray-a beam, if
not a flood of light, on some mysterious passages in
the providence of God. Shores on which man has
never landed lie paved with shells; fields which his
foot has never trod are carpeted with flowers; seas
where he has never dived are inlaid with pearls; and
caverns into which he has never mined are radiant
with gems of the finest form and the fairest colors.
Well, it may be, and has been asked, for what purpose this lavish expenditure of skill and beauty on




104         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
scenes, when there is neither an eye of intelligence
to admire, nor piety to adore the Maker? The poet,
lamenting genius unknown, unpatronized, sinking into
an ignoble grave, has sung of "flowers that waste
their sweetness on the desert air;" and up on the
unfrequented shelf of a mountain rock, or rooted in
the crevice of an old castle wall, I have found such a
flower, opening its modest beauty to the sun, and putting to shame the proudest efforts of human skill.
Did you never sit down beside such a flower, and
courting its gentle company, ask the question, Fair
creature! for what end were you made, and made so
very beautiful? It certainly does look a waste of power
and skill divine. Yet may it not be, that angels, as
they fly by on their missions of mercy, have stayed
their wing over that lowly flower, and hovered there
awhile, to admire its colors and adore its Maker? But
whether or no, God himself is there. Invisible, He
walks these unfrequented solitudes, and with ineffable
complacency looks on this little flower as his own
mighty work, and as a mirror of his infinite perfections. " God," it is said, " shall rejoice in. his work."
"He made all things for Himself-even the wicked
for the day of wrath."
The minnow plays in a shallow pool, and leviathan
cleaves the depths of ocean-winged insects sport in a
sunbeam, and winged angels sing before the throne;
and whether we fix our eye on the one or the other,
the whole fabric of creation appears to prove that Jehovah delights in the evolution of his powers, in the
display of his wisdom, love, and goodness; and, just
as it is to the delight which God enjoys in the exercise of them that we owe this beautiful creation, so it




GOD'S MOTIVE IN SALVATION.       105
is to his delight in the exercise of his pity, love, and
mercy, that we owe salvation, with all its blessings.
Let us be humble and thankful. Man had as little to
do with saving as with making himself: the creation
of Eden and the cross of Calvary are equally the work
of God; and Jehovah stands forth before the universe
as not by one tittle less the Saviour than the Creator
of the world. To display his glory in radiant effulgence-to blaze it out on the eyes of delighted and
adoring angels-to evoke the hidden attribute of
mercy-to give expression to his love and pity-God
resolved to save, and, in saving man, to turn this
world into a theater for the most affecting tragedy and
amazing love.
Salvation is finished. It is offered. Shall it be
rejected?  Take the good of it, and give Him the
glory. " He is the God of salvation;" "in his name
we will set up our banners." In that ladder whereby
faith climbs her way aloft to heaven, there is not a
round that we can call our own. In this ark which,
with open door, offers an asylum in'the coming storm,
a refuge in the rising flood-from stem to stern and
keel to deck there is neither nail, nor plank, nor beam,
that we can claim as ours. The plan of redemption
was the design of infinite wisdom; its execution was
left to dying love; and it is Mercy, generous Mercy,
whose fair form stands in the open door, bidding,
entreating, beseeching you all to come in. Listen to
the voice of Jesus, "I Come unto me, all ye that labor.
and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." And
let his mother teach you how to speak, and learn from
angels how to sing. With her-the casket of a divine
jewel, who held the babe yet unborn in her virgin
4*




106         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
womb-with Mary say, " My soul doth magnify the
Lord; my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour;
for He that is mighty hath done great things to me,
and holy is his name." Or, hark to the angels' song!
glowing with seraphic fire, borrow seraphic words;
and sing with them, ere they wheel their bright ranks
for upward flight, "Glory to God in the highest; on
earth, peace and good will to men."




aulrl n      jdtt of Pibime iers
Therefore say unto the house of Israel, I do not this for your sakes,
0 house of Israel, but for mine holy name's sake.-EZEKIEL
xxxvi. 22.
VE have seen a sere and yellow leaf, tenacious of
its hold, hang on the tree all the winter through; and
there it kept dancing and whirling idly in the wind,
not beautiful or graceful, out of place and season, in
humbling contrast with the young and fresh companions which budding spring had hung around it.
Like that wrinkled and withered thing, some men
(who were better in their graves) hang too long upon
this world. They live too long; they die too late,
for themselves at least. Half-dead and half-alive,
mind and memory faded, surviving both their faculties and usefulness, and but mere wrecks of what once
they were, they tax affection, to conceal from strangers' eyes the sad ravages of time, and do for them
the tender office of the ivy, when she kindly hides
beneath her green and glossy mantle the crumbling
ruin or old hollow tree.
It was the happy fate of Moses-and one most
singular at his age-neither to outlive his honor nor
usefulness: the day he laid down his leadership saw
him lay down his life: death found him at his post.
Palinurus was swept from the helm. When Heaven
saw meet to take lMoses, he was one whom the earth
and church would have gladly retained: but the time




108         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
has arrived when the pilot, who, in calm and. storm,
through winter and summer seas, has steered the
commonwealth of Israel for well nigh half a century,
is to resign the helm into other hands. A faithful
God calls a faithful servant to his reward and rest.
He did not leave them, however, till these weary
voyagers were brought within sight of land, and, indeed, to the mouth of the very haven they had so long
desired and looked to see. The children of Israel
have reached the banks of Jordan, and-grateful sight
to eyes weary of these naked mountains and the dead
flat level of barren sands-the people cluster with
eager looks on every summit, and, scattered along the
banks, they gaze across the flood on the Land of Promise. How they feed their eyes, and never weary
looking on the verdant pastures, the golden harvests,
the rocks clothed with vines, the swelling hills crowned
with wood, the plains studded with villages and cities
teeming with a population that told how rich the soil,
and how well described, the land as one "full of corn
and wine, and flowing with milk arid honey." In this
posture of affairs, before he ascends to his rest, Moses
summons the tribes of Israel; and, like the members
of a family who gather from their different and distant
homes around a father's death-bed, they come to receive
the old man's blessing, his parting counsels, and last,
long farewell.
Propped upon pillows, bending on his staff, panting
for breath, speaking in brief and broken sentences,
by those groping hands that felt for Ephrair's and
Manasseh's head betraying the stone-blindness of a
great old age, Jacob gave his blessing to the twelve
sons, who all-uncommon fortune in so large a family
-survived their parent, and were themselves the




MAN AN OBJECT OF DIVINE MERCY.      109
fathers of the living millions now swarming beneath
the eye of Moses. But how different the bearing and
aspect of Moses from that of the hoary patriarch!
An old man! if not as old a man, of age not much
short of Jacob's! One hundred and twenty years had
passed on his head, but they had neither blanched
his beard, nor thinned his locks, nor drawn a wrinkle
on his lofty brow: that eye had lost none of its fire,
nor that arm any of its force, since the day when,
striking in for a brother's cause, he bestrode a prostrate Hebrew, and, parrying the blow of the Egyptian,
gave it back, like a battle-axe, on his head. Nearly
the same age as Jacob, whose bent and venerable
appearance, as he entered leaning on Joseph's arm,
led Pharaoh to ask, "IHow old art thou?" Moses bore
himself erect, and looked the same as on the day,
forty years before, when he strode into Pharaoh's hall,
and demanded of an angry king that the Hebrews
should go free. The sun that went down in the evening of summer's longest day, sunk as full and bright,
as if it had set at noon; "his eye -was not dim, nor
was his natural strength abated." His life closed amid
the rich glories of the noblest address that grace,
genius, patriotism, and piety ever uttered.
Standing on some rocky platform, with his back to
the sky, and his face to the people, Moses delivered
an address never forgotten, and that for long ages
continued to sound its trumpet echoes in the ears, and
to breathe courage into the hearts of Israel. He
blessed the tribes in succession, and-charged with inspiration, as a cloud with lightning —he burst forth
at the close into these glowing exclamations-" There
is none like unto the God of Jeshurun, who rideth
upon the heavens in thy help; thy shoes shall be iron




110         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
and brass; and as thy days, so shall thy strength be.
The eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath are
the everlasting arms." Jordan gleamed in his eye,
and stretching out his arms to the land across its
flood, he cried —" Israel then shall dwell in safety
alone; the fountain of Jacob shall be upon a land of
corn and wine; his heaven shall drop down dew.
Happy art thou, 0 Israel: who is like unto thee, O
people saved by the Lord?"-Glorious words to the
Hebrews! and most gracious in Christian eyes. Faith
claims them as part of her inheritance, and looking
on that mighty multitude as the dying type of a
never-dying church, serves us heirs of entail to the
spiritual blessings which lay concealed beneath the
vail of these earthly promises.
It is not, however, so much of the close as of the
commencement of Moses' speech, that I would speak.
Their deliverer from the house of bondage, and leader
of their exodus to the promised land, he was a type
of Jesus. That host, supplied with streams from the
flinty rock, guided by the Shekinalh, and fed with
manna from the skies, in its grievous bondage and
great deliverance, its pilgrim wanderings and hardfought battles, its trials and crowning triumph, was a
type of the Church of Christ. We are undoubtedly
heirs of all its promises; but as we cannot take the sweet
and reject the bitter, in serving ourselves heirs to
Israel's promises, we become heirs also to her chastisements, her guilt and sin, her warnings and rebukes.
Now, listen to Moses as he addressed the very people
of whose coming fortunes he spoke such glorious
things:-"Hear, 0 Israel: Thou art to pass over
Jordan this day, to go in to possess nations greater
and mightier than thyself: Not for thy righteousness,




MAN AN OBJECT OF DIVINE MERCY.     111
or for the uprightness of thine heart, dost thou go to
possess their land. Understand, therefore, that thou
goest not in for your own sakes. The Lord thy God
giveth thee not this good land to possess it for thy
righteousness; for thou art a stiff-necked people, and
hast been rebellious against the Lord from the day
that I knew you."
If there be a man still on earth, in a situation corresponding to theirs who stood on the brink of the
flood, and saw Canaan's fair fields inviting them to
cross, that man is a dying Christian. With life fast
ebbing-his battle fought, the journey finished, the
desert traveled, the world with its rough paths and
vanities behind him, heaven opening its glories to his
eye, and death's cold, dark stream rolling at his feethe stands on the bank of the river and, ready to pass
on when the High Priest has gone down to divide the
flood, he waits but the summons to go. Well-I repair to the chamber where this good man dies, and,
sitting down beside his bed, I open the Bible, and
read these words in his listening ears, "Thou art
to pass Jordan this day. Speak not thou in thine
heart, saying, for my own righteousness the Lord hath
brought me in to possess the land. Understand, that
the Lord giveth thee not this good land for thy righteousness and uprightness; for thou art stiff-necked,
and hast been rebellious against the Lord." To some,
who, taking compassion on our ignorance, might turn
round to tell us, what a good man he had been, what
an example of piety, how bright he had shone, how
much the church would lament his death, and how
much the poor would miss his charity, these words
would sound hard and harsh, unseasonable and most
uncharitable. But whatever harshness might appear to




112         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
others in such an address, this, I am sure, would be
that Christian's humble, prompt, hearty response:How true! how characteristic! what a faithful picture!
how descriptive alike of my original unregenerate
state, and the many short-comings of my renewed
nature  Raising his dying eye to heaven, and clasping his hands, he hushes into silence the ill-timed
praise of his friends, and repeats as his own, the confession of Job,-" I have heard of thee with the hearing of the ear, but now mine eye seeth thee; wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes."
He clings like Peter to the hand of Jesus. Mercy is
all his prayer, and mercy all his praise; hopes of mercy in the future kindle in his eye, and grateful thanks
for mercies in the past employ his latest breath, and
dwell on his faltering tongue. His last conscious look
turns away from his own works to fix itself upon the
cross, and the last word that trembles on his quivering lip is, Jesus!
It were not easy to find a better example of this,
than one which is recorded in the history of England's
greatest apostle. When he lay on an expected deathbed (though God spared him some years longer to the
world and church), his attendants asked John Wesley, what where his hopes for eternity? And something like this was his reply-For fifty years I have
been traveling up and down this world, amid scorn
and hardship, to preach Jesus Christ: and I have
done what in me lay to serve my blessed Master.
What he had done, how poor he lived, how hard he
labored, with what holy fire his bosom burned, with
what success he preached, how brilliantly he illustrated the character —" dying, and behold we live; unknown, and yet well known; poor, yet making many




MAN AN OBJECT OF DIVINE MERCY.       113
rich; having nothing, yet possessing all things;"these things his life and works attest. They are seen
in his church's history, and in the crown he wears in
heaven so bright with a blaze of jewels —the saved
through his agency. Yet thus he spake, " My hopes
for eternity? my only hopes rest on Christ;" and as
the confession of his faith, he repeated these words:"I the chief of sinners am,
But Jesus died for me."
This confession, so redolent of Wesley's piety, and
honorable to his memory, and the words of Moses to
Israel, are in perfect harmony; and both are in harmony with this great truth of the text, that God saves
sinners, not for their sakes, or out of any regard whatever to their worth or merits.  We have already
dwelt at some length on this truth. Why, then, it
may be asked, choose the same text, and expatiate
again on the same theme? If I needed apology or
defence for lingering on this humbling, but most salutary and important subject, I would find it in a
high example. Observe how Moses, in his dying address to Israel, repeats and repeats, iterates and reiterates, this very truth —- Speak not thou in thine
heart, saying, for my righteousness the Lord hath
brought me in to possess this land; but for the wickedness of these nations the Lord doth drive them
out from before thee."  Again-" Not for thy righteousness, or the uprightness of thine heart, dost thou
go to possess their land."  Again-" Understand,
therefore, that the Lord thy God giveth thee not
this good land to possess it for thy righteousness,
for thou art a stiff-necked people."  Again-" Remember, forget not how thou provokedst the Lord




114         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
thy God to wrath in the wilderness; from the day
that thou didst depart out of the land of Egypt,
until ye came unto this place, ye have been rebellious
against the Lord." Again-" In Horeb ye provoked
the Lord to wrath, so that the Lord was angry with
you, to have destroyed you."  Again-"The Lord
spake unto me, saying, I have seen this people, and
behold, it is a stiff-necked people; let me alone, that
I may destroy them." And again-" Ye have been
rebellious against the Lord from the day that I knew
you." Thus Moses. A master, who charges his servant with some important message, repeats, and reiterates it in his ear. The teacher, who communicates
some leading rule in grammar to his pupils, or some
fundamental truth in science to his students, comes
over it again and again; just as a carpenter, by repeated blows drives home the nail, and fixes it firm
in its place. For the same end we resume our study
of the text. It divides itself into two branches; first,
what does not; secondly, what does move God to
save us.
To the first question our answer is Not any thing
in us; to the second-His regard to his own holy
name. Now, in speaking on the first of these I remarkI. The doctrine that God is not moved to save man
by any merit or excellence of his, is a truth of the
highest importance and consequence to sinners.
This is no doctrine —like our Lord's personal reign,
or the question of adult or infant baptism, or the
points of difference between Episcopalians, Presbyterians, and Independents —in regard to which it is not
of vital importance which side of the controversy we




MAN AN OBJECT OF DIVINE MERCY.      115
espouse and advocate. This doctrine has a direct and
most important bearing on the salvation of sinners.
Like the rough and stern Baptist it prepares the way
for Christ. Man must be emptied of self before he
can be filled with grace. We must be stripped of our
rags before we can be clothed with righteousness; we
must be unclothed, that we may be clothed upon;
wounded, that we may be healed; killed, that we
may be made alive; buried in disgrace, that we may
rise in grace. These words are as true of the soul as
the body-" Sown in corruption, that we may be raised in incorruption; sown in dishonor, that we may be
raised in glory; sown in weakness, that we may be
raised in power." To borrow an illustration from the
surgeon's art, the ill-set bone must be broken again,
that it may be set aright. I would press this truth on
your attention, because a soul filled with self has no
room for God; and, like the inn of Bethlehem, given
to lodge meaner guests, a heart full of pride has no
chamber, within which Christ may be born " in us the
hope of glory."
To tell man that he has no merit is, no doubt, a
humbling statement, and one that lays the loftiest
sinner in the dust. This doctrine is the true leveler,
it puts all men on the same degraded platform before
God; sets kings as low as beggars, and the strictest
virtue-virtue which the breath of suspicion never
sullied-with base and brazen-faced iniquity. I admit
that, if we had no better righteousness than our own
to rest on, we should do our best to establish its
claims, and mayhap assert the right of decency to say
to harlots, publicans, and sinners, " Stand aside, I am
holier than thou." But why cling to that when we
have a better righteousness in our offer? No wonder




116         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
at all that the mendicant, whose timid knock has
called us to the door, stands there shivering in filthy
rags. Poor wretch! His crimes or misfortunes have
reduced him to these; he has no change of raiment
nor choice of clothing; and so,-with none kind or
rich enough to help him,-he must make the best of
what he has to robe his nakedness and protect an
emaciated frame from the biting cold. No wonder
also, that the prodigal, having spent all his portion in
riotous living, in such dress-if dress it could be
called-sought his father's house; nor any wonder
that his father, so soon as the quick eyes of love
espied him from afar, ran to meet the penitent, fell on
his neck, and kissed him in that ragged and loathsome attire.  To say nothing of those who have
yearned over some unworthy child-every father
understands that. But how had the wonder of the
story grown, how had son, servants, and neighbors
concluded that the wretched youth had drunk away
his senses as well as money, had he so loved his
rags, as to decline to part with them, and, clinging to
these wrecks of better days-these sad memorials of
his sin and folly-had he refused to put the foul rags
off, that he might put the fair robe on!  He did
nothing so foolish; and why should we? Now since
God pronounces our righteousness-observe, not our
wickednesses, but our devotions, our charities, our
costliest sacrifices, our most applauded services-to be
"filthy rags," trust not to them. What man in his
senses would think of going to court in rags? Nor
think that the righteousness of the cross was wrought
to patch up these; to make up, as some say, for what
is defective and wanting in our own merits.  Nor
fancy, like some who would have a Saviour and yet




MAN AN OBJECT OF DIVINE MERCY.      117
keep their sins, that you may wear the rags beneath
this righteousness. Put them away; not as a dress,
which a man lays aside, to be afterwards resumed;
but cast them away, like a beggar who, having got a
better attire, flings his rags into the nearest ditch, and
leaves them there in their foulness to rottenness and
decay. God says of the soul which Faith has conducted to Jesus-" take away the filthy garments
from him, Behold I have caused thine iniquity to
pass from thee, and I will clothe thee with change of
raiment."
If this doctrine is humbling to our pride, it is full
of encouragement to a poor sinner's hope. It lays me
down, but it is to lift me up. It throws me on the
ground, that, like Antseus, the giant of fable, I may
rise stronger than I fell. It is not for our sake
that we are saved. If Mercy stoops to the lowest
guilt, Oh then there is hope of salvation for me —
for a man who has nothing that he can call his own
but misery and sin; I will not sit here to perish;
but following a Manasseh and a Magdalene, a dying
thief, and a blood-stained Saul, I will join the throng
that, called from highways and hedges, are pouringa ragged crowd-into the marriage supper of the
Lamb. Are any among you holding back, till, by
this or that improvement in your habits, you consider
yourselves fit to go to Christ? Fit to go to Christ!fit to go to Christ you shall never be, but only by
going to him. Your warrant lies in your wants;
your plea for mercy in his merits; your plea for an
interest in his merits in your own demerits. Hear
and adopt the prayer of David-" For thine own
name's sake, pardon mine iniquity;" that is his
prayer; now what is his plea? "for it is little,"




118         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
"very little," or "less than others?" No. He adds
and urges this, "for it is great."
Was there ever an invalid so senseless as to say,
when I am somewhat better, when this fever burns
less fierce, this pulse beats more calm, this running
ulcer has a less loathsome and offensive discharge, I
will repair to the hospital? Yet such is their folly
who say, when I am holier, I will go to Jesus. Go
to him as you are; show the physician your wounds,
bruises, putrifying sores-how the whole head is sick,
and the whole heart is faint. It is said of the disciples, that " they took in our Lord as he was into the
boat;" now he is to take you in as you are-just as
you are. You cannot be made holy till you go to
him? And what hinders you to go and go now?
What does he say? Hear him-" I came not to call
the righteous, but sinners to repentance." And the
worse your case is, the greater, in a sense, is your
certainty of immediate salvation;-yours the hope of
the maimed and bleeding soldier, whom kind comrades bear from the deadly trench, and who knows
that the worse his wound, the more sure is he of the
surgeon's earliest care; and that from the very couch,
where noblest birth or highest rank lies stretched
under some less serious injury, that man of humanity
-image of the great Physician-will turn away to
kneel down by a poor orphan boy, the meanest private-aye, even a mutilated enemy, in haste to tie up
the severed vessels, and stem the tide that pours his
life's blood upon the ground. God help you to say
with Paul-" It is a faithful saying, and worthy of all
acceptation, that Jesus Christ came into the world to
save sinners, of whom I am chief," and believing that,




MAN AN OBJECT OF DIVINE MERCY.       119
cry with David, "Make haste unto me, O God. O
Lord, make no tarrying."
II. It is as important for the saint as for the sinner
to remember, that he is not saved through personal
merit, or for his own sake.
When age has stiffened its bark and fibres, if you
bend a branch into a new direction, either turn that
to the right hand which had grown to the left, or raise
the bough to the skies which had been bent on the
ground, it is long before it loses the tendency to resume its old position. And many years after its
course has been changed, and the art, that conquers
nature, has turned its waters into a new cut, the river
needs careful watching; else, when swollen by winter
snows or summer floods, it bursts our barriers, sweeps
dyke and bulwark to the sea, and, in the pride of victory, foams, and roars, and rages, in its old accustomed channel. Even so, when God has laid hands
upon us, and grace has given our earthly soul a heavenward bent, how prone it is to start back again! When
he that sitteth upon the flood, and turneth the hearts
of men like the rivers of water, hath sent the current
of our tastes and feelings in a new direction, how apt
are they, especially in some outburst of sudden temptation that comes down like a thunder-spout, to flow
back into the old and deep-worn channels of a corrupt nature! Of this, David and Peter are memoraable and dreadful examples. And who, that has endeavored to keep his heart with diligence, has not
felt, and mourned over the tendency to be working
out a righteousness of his own, to be pleased with
himself, and, by taking some satisfaction in his own




120         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
merits, to undervalue those of Christ. So was it with
that godly man who, on one occasion-most rare
achievement!-offered up a prayer without one wandering thought; and described it as the worst which
he had ever offered, because, as he said, the Devil
made him proud of it. So was it also with the minister, who, upon being told by one-more ready to
praise the preacher than profit by the sermon-that
he had delivered an excellent discourse, replied,
" You need not tell me that; Satan told me so before
I left the pulpit." Oh! it were well for the best of
us that we could say with Paul, " we are not ignorant
of his devices."
Step into this room, where the greatest Scotchman
lies a dying, and see an example more striking, warning, alarming still. From the iron grasp of kings and
princes, Knox has wrung the rights of Scotland.
Ready to contend even unto the death, he had bearded
proud nobles and prouder churchmen; he had stood
under the fire of battle; he had been chained to the
galley's oar; he had occupied the pulpit with a carabine leveled at his fearless head; and to plant God's
truth, and that tree of civil and religious liberty which
has struck its roots so deep in our soil, and under
whose shadow we are this day sitting, he had fought
many a hard-fought battle; but his hardest was fought
in the solitude of the night, and amid the quietness of
a dying chamber. One morning his friends enter his
apartment. They find him faint and pallid, wearing
the look of one who had passed a troubled night. So
he had: he had been fighting, not sleeping; wrestling, not resting; and it required all God's grace to
bring him off a conqueror. Till daybreak, Jacob
wrestled with the Angel of the Covenant; and that




MAN AN OBJECT OF DIVINE MERCY.       121
long night Knox' had passed wrestling with the Prince
of DIarkness. Like Bunyan's pilgrim, he met Apollyon in the valley, and their swords struck fire in the
shadow of death. The lion is said to be boldest in
the storm. His roar is never so loud as in the pauses
of the thunder, and when the lightning flashes, brightest are the flashes of his cruel eye; and even so he,
who, as a roaring lion, goeth about seeking whom he
may devour, often seizes the hour of nature's distress
to assault us with his fiercest temptations. Satan
tempted Job when he was bowed down with grief.
Satan tempted Jesus when he was faint with hunger.
Satan tempted Peter when he was weary with watching and heart-broken with sorrow; and, reserving
perhaps his grand assault on us for times that offer'him a great advantage, it was when Knox was worn
out, left alone, his head laid low on a dying pillow,
that Satan, like a roaring lion, leaped upon his bed.
Into that room the Enemy had come; he stands by
his bed,-he reminds him that he had been a standard-bearer of the truth,-a reformer; a bold confessor;
a distinguished sufferer; the very foremost man of his
time and country; he attempts to persuade him, that
surely such rare merits deserve the crown. The
Christian conquered-but hard put to it-only conquered through Him that loved him. His shield was
the truth of my text; he had been lost, wrecked at
the mouth of the very harbor, had he lost sight of this
beacon,-" I do not this for your sake, but for mine
holy name's sake."
And seeing, as these cases show, there may be such
danger lurking-like a snake among flowers-under
our best attainments; seeing that, like the inflanimatory attacks to which those are most liable who are
6




122         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
highest fed, whose bones are most full of marrow, and
whose veins are gorged with blood, we may be exposed to spiritual pride through the very fullness of
our graces; seeing that he, who can twist the' Bible
into arguments for sin, can use our best works as fuel
to the fires of vanity, let us watch and pray and learn
to be humble. Oh, it is needful for the holiest to remember, that man's best works are bad at the best;
and that, to use the words of Paul, it is "Not by
works of righteousness that we have done, but according to his mercy he hath saved us, through the
washing of regeneration. and the renewing of the
Holy Ghost."
III. This doctrine, while it keeps the saint humble,
will help to make him holy.
Here-no ornament to park or garden-stands a
dwarfed, stunted, bark-bound tree.  How am I to
develop that dwarfish stem into tall and graceful
beauty-to clothe with blossoms these naked branches,
and hang them, till they bend, with clustered fruit?
Change such as that is not to be effected by surface
dressing, or any care bestowed on the upper soil. The
remedy must go to the root. You cannot make that
tree grow upwards till you break up the crust-pulverize the hard subsoil, and give the roots room and
way to strike deeper down;-for, the deeper the root,
and the wider spread the fine filaments of its rootlets,
the higher the tree lifts an umbrageous head to heaven,
and spreads out its hundred arms, to catch, in dews,
rain-drops, and sunbeams, the blessings of the sky.
The believer —in respect of character, "a tree of
righteousness of the Lord's planting," in respect of
strength, "a cedar of Lebanon," in respect of fruitful



MAN AN OBJECT OF DIVINE MERCY.      123
ness, an olive, in respect of position, "a palm tree
planted in the courts of God's house," in respect of
full supplies' of grace, a tree by the rivers of water
"which yieldeth its fruit in its season, and whose leaf
doth not wither "-offers this analogy between grace
and nature.  As the tree grows best skyward that
grows most downward, the lower the saint grows in
humility, the higher he grows in holiness. The soaring corresponds to the sinking. I wish you to think
little, very little of yourselves; but why? because
4he less you think of yourselves, the more will you
esteem Christ; and the humbler you are in your own
eyes, the higher you will stand in God's. The guest,
who, coming modestly in, takes the lowest place at
the table, is called up to the seat of honor; and I have
always thought, that none are so sure to lie in Jesus'
bosom as those I have seen lying lowest at Jesus' feet.
Was it not over one, who content to be spoken of as
"a dog," held herself well served with crumbs, and
asked nothing but the sweepings of the table, that
Jesus pronounced this superlative eulogium-" I have
not found such faith; no, not in Israel."  "God exalteth the humble, and abaseth'the proud." How important, therefore, the sentiment of my text? Receive it, "and the loftiness of man shall be bowed
down, and the haughtiness of men shall be made low;
and the Lord alone shall be exalted in that day."
Piety and pride are not less opposed to each other
than light and darkness. No doubt strange thingssingular conjunctions-are seen in grace as well as in
nature. Like an ill assorted marriage, you may find
a sour and ascetic temper allied to genuine faith.
Eminent piety has stood blushing in sackcloth on a
pillory of shame. The sun of saintship has undergone




124         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
a dreadful and unlooked for eclipse. Good and great
men have fallen into gross sin, causing God's people to
hang down their heads, and cry, as they wept in secret,
"How are the mighty fallen!" In short, the grace
of God has been found in such strange company as to
give occasion for the remark of one, who said, "the
grace of God will live where neither you nor I could
live." But, among these anomalies, amounting sometimes almost to monstrosities, I will venture to say
you never saw-no, nor the church, nor world, nor
any eye nor age ever yet saw-a saint distinguished
for his holiness, who was not also remarkable for his
humility. The grandest edifices, the tallest towers,
the lofties spires, rest on deep foundations. The very
safety of eminent gifts and pre-eminent graces lies in
their association with deep humility. They were dangerous without it. Great men need to be good men.
Look at this mighty ship-a leviathan on the deep;
with her towering masts, and carrying a cloud of canvas, how she steadies herself on the waves, and walks
erect upon the rolling waters, like a thing of inherent,
self-regulating life! Why-when corn is waving, and
trees are bending, and foaming billows roll before the
blast and break in thunders on the beach, is she not
flung on her beam-ends-sent down-foundering into
the deep? Why, because,. unseen beneath the surface,
a vast, well-ballasted hull gives her balance, and, taking hold of the water, keeps her steady under a press
of sail, and on the bosom of the swelling sea. Even
so, that the saint may be preserved upright, erect, and
kept from falling, God gives him balance and ballast
-giving the man, on whom he has bestowed lofty
endowments, the grace of a proportionate humility.




MAN AN QBJECT OF DIVINE MERCY.     125
We have wondered at the lowliness of a man, who
stood among his compeers like Saul among the people
-to find him simple, gentle, generous, docile, humble
as a little child-till we found that it was with great
men as with great trees. What giant tree has not
giant roots? When the tempest has blown over some
such monarch of the forest, and he lies in death
stretched out at his full length upon the ground, on
seeing the mighty roots that fed him-the strong cables
that moored him to the soil-we cease to wonder at
his' noble stem, and the broad, leafy, lofty head he
raised to heaven, defiant of storms. Even so, when
death has struck down some distinguished saintwhose removal, like that of a great tree, leaves a vast
gap below, and whom, brought down now, as it were,
to our own level, we can measure better when he has
fallen than when he stood-and when the funeral is
over, and his repositories are opened, and the secrets
of his heart are unlocked and brought to light, ah!
now, in the profound humility they reveal-in the
spectacle of that honored gray head, laid so low in
the dust before God-we see the great roots and
strength of his lofty piety.
Would you be holy? learn to be humble. Would
you be humble? take my text, and, with a pen of
iron and the point of a diamond, engrave it upon your
heart; or rather pray-Holy Spirit, fountain of light,
and giver of all grace, with thine own divine finger
inscribe it there!
Would you be holy? you must be humble. Would
you be humble? Oh! never forget that the magnet,
which drew a Saviour from the skies, was not your
merit but your misery. "Be clothed with humility,"




126         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
and ere long you shall exchange the sackcloth for a
shining robe. What! although this grace may impart
to your feelings a somber hue? Gray mornings are
the precursors of brightest days; weeping springs are
followed by sunny summers and autumns of richest
harvest; and in the spiritual as in the natural kingdom-' They that sow in tears shall reap in joy."




And I will sanctify my great name which was profaned among the
heathen, &c.-EZEKIEL xxxvi. 23, 24.
THE character of a government may be read in the
condition of its subjects. Are they turbulent-in
their habits lawless, in their religion superstitious?
with coasts full of harbors, and mountains rich in minerals, with a genial climate and a productive soil, are
they yet clothed in rags, housed in cabins, steeped to
the lips in poverty? These are the certain signs of
bad government. Fields overrun with weeds-fences
falling into ruins-the plough rotting in the flooded
furrow-and hungry cattle bellowing on scanty pastures-these are the sure signs of, bad husbandry.
And yonder ragged family, who at school hours are
roaming our streets-the unwashed face and tangled
hair bespeaking no mother's kindness-hunger in the
hollow eye, and pale, emaciated features —these are
the sure and too common signs of an unhappy parentage. They suggest the picture of a home at the top
of some filthy stair, or in some foul den of a cellar,
where a miserable father, the neglected victim of disease and poverty, lies stretched upon the floor, oras is still more likely-where a brutal drunkard lives,
the tyrant of his children, and the terror of his wife.
Thus we judge of a sovereign by his subjects, and
thus we see the husbandman in his farm, and the father in his family.




128         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
It may be-it were indeed unfair-to apply this
rule to our Faith and its Founder. Yet men have
done so,. and will do so; and thus the cause of God
and religion is made to suffer grievous injury at the
hand of its nominal friends. By their coldness, their
worldliness, their selfishness, their open sinfulness, the
little apparent difference between them and those who
make no profession at all-nay, sometimes, by their
glaring inferiority to the latter in the blow and fruit
of the natural virtues-professing Christians-like
venders of a bad coinage, have exposed genuine piety
to suspicion, and inflicted its deepest wounds on the
cause of Christ. Seeing how, in natural graceskindness of heart-sweetness of temper-generosity —
the common charities of life-mere men of the world
lose nothing by comparison with such professors, how
are you to keep the world from saying, "Ah! your
man of religion is no better than others; nay, he is
sometimes worse?" With what frightful prominence
does this stand out in the answer-never to be forgotten answer-of an Indian chief to the missionary
who urged him to be a Christian. The plumed and
painted savage drew himself up in the consciousness
of superior rectitude, and, with indignation quivering
on his lip and flashing in his eagle eye, replied,
"Christian lie! Christian cheat! Christian steal!drink!-murder! Christian has robbed me of my
lands and slain my tribe!" adding, as he turned haughtily on his heel, "the Devil, Christian I I will be no
Christian." Let such reflections teach us to be careful how we make a religious profession; but having
made it —cost what it may cost-to be careful in acting up to it. "It is better not to vow, than, having
vowed, not to pay."




GOD GLORIFIED IN REDEMPTION.       129
These remarks are suggested by the fact already
adverted to in the previous discourses-that the interests of truth and the name of God suffered in Babylon, in consequence both of the miserable outward
condition and still more miserable moral condition of
the people of Israel. Reduced to bondage, sunk lower
still —for, compared to a sinner, how free is a slave!
-they exceeded their masters in crime, and went to
greater excess of riot. The heathen-who overlooked
the sins of which their misery was the righteous punishment-naturally enough concluded, that the God
of a people so wretched and so worthless, must be a
weak-perchance a wicked one. Thus God's name
was profaned, and Jehovah himself dishonored, till the
time arrived, when, arising to plead the cause that
was his own, God sanctified his great name in the fortunes of his people, and in the sight of the heathen.
Passing over the special application of these words
to the. Jews, and looking at them in their prophetical
connection with the scheme of redemption, I now remarkI. That God might have vindicated his honor and
sanctified. his name in our destruction.
He sanctified his name in the emancipation of his
ancient people. When by one blow he struck th(
fetters from a nation's limbs, baptized them with his
Spirit, gave them favor in the sight of kings, and
brought back these weary exiles, with songs and gladness, to Jerusalem, then God was sanctified in the
midst of all the heathen. His power, wisdom, holiness, and goodness, were illustrated in the renewed
character, joyous homes, and. happy fortunes of his
people. Now, God might undoubtedly have sancti6*




130         THE GOSiEL IN EZEKIEL.
fled himself in them otherwise-vindicating his char.
acter in such destruction upon Zion, as he here threatens upon Sidon-" Behold, I am against thee, 0 Sidon, and I will be glorified'in the midst of thee, and
they shall know that I am the Lord when I shall have
executed judgment in her, and shall be sanctified in
her; I will send with her pestilence and blood into
her streets; and they shall know that I am the Lord."
Two methods of glorifying his name are open to
God. He is free to choose either; but by the one or
the other way he will exact his full tale of glory from
every man. In Egypt, for instance, he was glorified
in the high-handed destruction of his enemies; and, in
the same land, by the high-handed salvation of his
people. In the one case he proved how strong his
arm was to smite, and in the other how strong it was
to save. He gave Egypt's king-ere he was done
with him-a terrible answer to his insolent question,
" Who is the Lord that I should serve him?" God
was sanctified before Pharaoh, when, hurrying to the
banks of the Nile, and turning pale at the sight, he
saw them filled with blood-blood brimming in every
goblet, and blood flowing in every channel. God was
again sanctified before Pharaoh, when he saw the same
skies rain ice and fire. God was again sanctified before Pharaoh, when, startled at midnight by a nation's
wail, and summoned to the bed of his heir and eldest
born, he saw him, stiff and dead-smitten by the angel of death. And God was again sanctified before
Pharaoh, when-as he looked along the watery vistahe saw Moses come down in the grey of morning to
the shore, and watching the last Hebrew safe on
land, stretch his rod out upon the deep, whose waves,
roaring on their prey, now rush from either flank




GOD GLORIFIED IN REDEMPTION.       181
on the power of Egypt, and bury pale rider and
snorting horse-all that bannered army-in their
whirling waters. The sea refused God's enemies a
grave. She flung them out upon her shore. Moses
stands over the body of the king; and as he gazes on
that glassy eye, which had lost its haughtiness, and
those lips, whose insolence the waters had washed
away, how might he stoop down, and say, Now you
know who is the Lord! Oh! Had the seal of death
been broken-removed from these blue, discolored
lips-theirs had been this solemn utterance, " Let- the
potsherds strive with the potsherds of the earth; woe
to the man that striveth with his Maker."
In like manner, God sanctified his name on the
plains of Sodom. He sanctified it, on the one hand,
in the destruction of his enemies, and on the other,
in the salvation of Lot. Ah  then the world ceased
to doubt his character, and perhaps angels ceased to
wonder that such wickedness was allowed on earth.
The light of the city's conflagrationilluminated his holiness, and his throne rose up in dread and awful majesty amid the smoking ruins. And how was he
sanctified in that wretched fugitive, who has crossed
but half the plain.! a wife, she comes not to a husband's
calls-a mother, she stirs not to her children's piercing
cry. Look at that spectral form with head turned on
the burning ruins-a woman, stiffened into stone, with
her cold grey eyes staring large on Sodom, and the
surprise-horror-that had seized her soul, as she felt
her warm flesh hardening into stone, carved on these
rigid features! " Remember Lot's wife." She stands
there an example of God's power to sanctify his name,
and an awful lesson to the end of time. Deep on the
statue's stony brow these words are engraven-" No




132         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
man having put his hand to the plough, and looking
back, is fit for the kingdom of God."
Since there are two ways open to God, by either of
which he may sanctify his great name, he might therefore, at the Fall, have vindicated his justice by swift
and unsparing vengeance-by destroying the whole
human family. He did so, in the case of fallen angels.
Of these, there was no wreck or remnant saved. Not
one escaped. No ark floated on the waters, to which,
-like Noah's dove-a flying angel pursued by wrath
might turn his weary wing. Can it be doubted, that
the measure meted out to fallen angels, God might
have meted out to fallen men?-sanctifying his great
name in our ruin, rather than in our redemption.
Now, before I show how he sanctifies himself in the
redemption of his people, let me warn you, that what
God might have done with all, he shall do with some
-with all indeed who despise, or refuse, or neglect
this great salvation. Yes; the trees shall burn that;
will not bear. Be assured, that God loses nothing in
the end. He will make his own use of every man,
extracting glory out of all-even from curnberers of
the ground. If you are not good for fruit, you shall
serve for fuel. God is not willing that any should
perish; willing, most willing, rather that the sinner
should live, he follows him to the very gate of hell,
crying, " turn ye, turn ye, why will ye die?" Yet be
warned in time; you cannot escape the alternative;
this or that you must choose-to honor God by your
active or your passive obedience. God help you, like
MAry, to choose the better part  This day, I set before you "life and death."  Will you do his will in 
heaven, or suffer it in hell? How terrible the words 




GOD GLORIFIED IN REDEMPTION.       133
"God hath made all things for himself, yea, even the
wicked for the day of wrath."
II. God sanctifies his name, and glorifies himself
in our redemption.
It is easy to destroy —to destroy character, virtue,
life, any thing. Falling -with murderous strokes on
yon noble tree, the woodman's axe destroys in a few
hours, what it has required centuries to raise. Look
at that beautiful gourd, under whose green and grateful shade the prophet sits! Emblem of all happiness
that has its root in earth, it falls by means as weak as
a worm's teeth; the poisonous east wind breathes on
its leaves, the hot sun glares on them, and they wither
away. An ounce of lead, one inch of steel, a drop
distilled from a serpent's fang, even a grain of sand
lodged in the passages of life-any one of these is fatal.
They turn this living, delicate, wondrous fabric into
a heapof undestinguishable dust -a handful of cold,
black ashes. In the body man destroys what God
only can make, and in this more precious and immortal soul, Satan destroys what God only can save. It
needs but a devil to ruin the spirit, but it needs a
Divinity to redeem it. It needs but a villian to steal
virtue, it needs a divine power to restore the stolen
jewel. How much easier is it to kill a man than cure
him?   To be an executioner than a physician?  To
sit robed on the bench of justice, and, assuming
her fatal cap, to condemn a poor wretch to die;
to draw the bolt and launch' a soul into another
world; to stand on the field of battle, and with leveled
musket-by a motion of the finger-to dash a fellow
creature into eternity-these are easier than to bless
with one hour's sleep a bed of pain. It is easier to




134         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
stop this pulse for ever, than bring down its death
gallop to the calm and measured march of health.
And as, in such cases, man's glory is more illustrated
by curing than by killing, so God's glory is more preeminent in our redemption than it had been in our
final and everlasting ruin.
Excepting of course the preacher's-for with Paul
we magnify our office-of all earthly employments it
appears to me that the physician's is the noblest, and
that of all arts the healing art is the highest, and offers
to genius and benevolence their noblest field. Casting
no disparagement on the brave and gallant spirits
who have guarded a country's shores-and some of
whom falling in the ranks of battle have offered noble
examples of soldiers, true both to an earthly crown
and a Saviour's cross-yet we know that the aim of a
warrior is ingeniously to invent, and his business
effectively to use, instruments of destruction. His
greatest achievements are wrought where deadly
wounds are suffered; his proudest triumphs are won
where burning cities blaze over blood-stained hearths,
and, horrible to think of! where fields are fattened
with human gore; his laurels are watered with tears;
his course, like the hurricane, is marked by destruction; and it is his unhappy lot-perhaps the unhappiest view of arms as a profession-that he cannot conquer foes but at tne sacrifice of friends. Now, in the
eye of reason, and of a humanity that weeps over a
suffering world, his is surely the nobler vocationand, if not more honored-the more honorable calling who sheds blood, not to kill, but cure; who
wounds not that the wounded may die, but live; and
whose genius ransacks earth and ocean in search of
means to save life, to remove deformity, to repair de



GOD GLORIFIED IN REDEMPTION.       135
cay, to invigorate failing powers, and restore the rose
of health to pallid cheeks. His aim is not to inflict pain,
but relieve it-not to destroy a father, but —standing
between him and death-to save his trembling wife
from widowhood, and these little children from an orphan's lot. And if, although they be wove round
no coronet, those are fairer and fresher laurels which
are won by saving than by slaying; if it is a nobler
thing to rescue life than destroy it, even when its destruction is an act of justice; then, on the same principle, God most glorified himself when revealed in the
flesh, and speaking by his Son, he descended on a
guilty world,-this his purpose-"I came not to
judge the world, but to save it,"-and this his character —" The Lord God, merciful and gracious, longsuffering, and abundant in goodness and truth."
Apart, however, from this general consideration, I
remark that the scheme of redemption is eminently
illustrative of the attributes of Jehovah. For example- 
I. His power is glorified in the work of salvation.
Its path is marked, and its pages are crowded with
stupendous miracles. At one time God stays the
waves of the sea, at another he stops the wheels of the
sun, and, now reversing the machinery of heaven to
confirm his word, he makes the shadow travel backwards on the dial of Ahaz. Heaven descends to earth,
and its inhabitants walk the stage of a world's redemption. Here one angel speaks out of a burning bush,
and there another leaps on a burning altar, and, with
wing unscorched, ascends to heaven in its flame. Here
a prophet, exempted from the law of death, goes up
to glory in a fiery chariot, and there another in the




136         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
belly of a whale goes down into the depths of ocean.
In contradiction of the laws of nature, a body that
should have gravitated to the earth, floats, from the
top of Olivet, upward into the ambient air. Across a
lake which frost never bound, and winter never paved
with ice, walks a human form, stepping on from billow
to billow. The tenant of the grave becomes its conqueror, and, laying by its cerements as night-clothes
left in bed, he walks forth on the dewy grass at the
break of day; the prisoner has bound his jailer and
carried off the keys. Over Bethlehem's fields, angels
with the light of their wings turn night into day, and
shepherds, who watch their flocks, are regaled by
voices of the skies-the song of heaven over a babe,
who has a poor woman for his mother, and a stable
for his birth-place. Nor less remarkable, the deaf are
listening to the songs of the dumb, and the blind are
gazing on the dead alive; a dumb beast takes human
speech and- rebukes the hoary sage; ravens leave
their young to cater in the fields for, man; and angels
abandon heaven to hold sentinel watch by the grave
of One whom God forsook, his country rejected, friends
repudiated, and none but a thief confessed. And amid
these wonders and thousands more, acted before men's
eyes on the stage of redemption, and all so illustrative
of the presence and power of God, the greatest wonder
-the wonder of wonders-is He that works them;
the Son of a virgin! dust and Divinity! Creator and
creature! "the mystery of godliness, God manifest in
the flesh." Truly, "This is the Lord's doing; it is
marvelous in our eyes."
But to glance at the change wrought in redemption
on man himself, what amazing power does it display!
What a glorious combination of benevolence and om



GOD GLORIFIED IN REDEMPTION.       137
nipotence!  Punishment is confessedly easier than
reformation. Nothing is more easy than to rid society
of a criminal by the hand of an executioner; but to
soften his stony heart, to get him to fall in love with
virtue, to make him an honest, honorable, kind, and
tender man, to guide his erring steps from the paths
of crime-ah! that is another thing. Hence, by men
callous of heart, and deaf to the groans of suffering
humanity, the preference given to prisons over schools,
to punishment over prevention. Well, then, since it
is confessedly easier-easier, not better; easier, not in
the end cheaper-to punish than reform, I say that
God's power is more illustriously displayed in pardoning one guilty-in purifying one polluted man,
than if the law had been left to take her sternest
course, and our entire family had been buried in the
ruins of the fall. We honor justice when she holds
the balance even, and before a land that cries for blood,
brings out the murderer to hang him up in the face
of the sun: " whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man
shall his blood be shed." Yet, like the Romans, who
decreed a crown to him that saved a citizen, we would
hold him worthy of highest honors who brings forth
a criminal from his cell, so changed as to be worthy,
not only of being restored to the bosom of society,
but of holding a place in the senate, or some post of
dignity beside the throne. That were an achievement
of brilliant renown-a victory over which humanity
and piety would shed tears of joy.
To compare small things with great, something like
this-but unspeakably nobler and greater-God works
in salvation. For example-In John Bunyan, he
calls the bold leader of village reprobates to preach
the gospel; a blaspheming tinker to become one of




138         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
England's famous confessors; and from the gloomy
portals of Bedford jail, to shed forth the luster of his
sanctified and resplendent genius to the farther limits
of the world, and adown the whole course of time.
From the deck of a slave ship he.summons John
Newton to the pulpit; and by hands defiled with
Mammon's most nefarious traffic, he brings them that
are bound out of darkness, and smites adamantine
fetters from the slaves of sin. In Paul, the Apostle
of the Gentiles, he converts his Son's bitterest enemy
into his warmest friend. To the man whom a trembling church held most in dread, she comes to owe,
under God, the weightiest obligations. In Paul she
has her boldest champion, her greatest logician, the
most gallant of her defenders, her grandest preacher,
the prince of Apostles, the largest contributor to this
imperishable volume. How much better for these
three stars to be shining in heaven, than quenched in
the blackness of darkness. Better for the good of
man-better for the glory of God. In them, and in
all the sainted throng around them, has not God more
illustriously displayed his power, than if he had
crushed them by the thunders of his vengeance, and
buried them in the depths of hell? The power of
Divinity culminates in grace. Oh, that we may become its monuments, and be built up by the hands of
an eternal Spirit, to the glory of the cross! And why
not? Look at these men    Think what they were;
behold what they are! and, addressing your prayers
to him whose ear is never heavy that it cannot hear,
nor his hand shortened that it cannot save, be this
your earnest, your urgent cry, "Awake, awake, put
on strength, 0 arm of the Lord. Awake, as in the
ancient days in the generations of old."




ILLUSTRATED BY SALVATION.
And I will sanctify my great name which ye have profaned.
EZEKIEL xxxvi. 23.
THE effect of the wind is visible, not the element
itself. The clouds scud across the sky, the trees swing
their arms wildly in the air, aerial waves chase each
other in sport across the corn, and the boat, catching
the gale in her flowing sheet, goes dancing over the
billows. So-although in a sense infinitely higherthe Invisible is visible; and in his works we see a
God, who, seeing all, remains himself unseen. He is
lost, not in darkness, but in light; IIe is a sun that
blinds the eye which is turned, on.its burning disc.
Angels themselves are unable to sustain his glory.
They cover their faces with their wings, and use them,
as a man his hand, to screen their eyes from the ineffable effulgence.
Suppose that we ascend the steps of creation, from
matter in its crudest form to nature's highest and most
beautiful arrangements; from the lichen that clothes
a rock to the oak that stands rooted in its crevices;
from the dull coal to the same mineral crystalized in
a flashing diamond; from a dew-drop, lying in the
cup of a flower, to the great ocean that lies in the hollow of its Maker's hand; from a spark that expires in
the moment of its birth, to the sun which has risen
and set with unabated splendor on the graves of a




140         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
hundred generations; from the instinct of the moth,
that flutters round a taper, to the intellect of an angel,
who hovers before the throne; from a grain of sand
to this vast globe; from this world to a creation in
extent, perhaps, as much greater than our planet as it
is greater than the grain of sand: As we climb upwards, step by step, our views of God's glory enlarge.
They rise with our elevation, and expand with the
widening prospect. At length we reach a pinnacle
where the whole heavens and earth lie spread out beneath our feet;-and reach it to fall on our knees,
and, catching the strain of adoring seraphim, to exclaim, "Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of Hosts, the
whole earth is full of his glory I"
It is not given to man to discover all the works and
ways of God. No; with our boasted discoveries and
pride of science, perhaps these are as little known to
us as the unbroken forest to the microscopic insect,
whose life is a day, and whose world is a leaf-that
little decaying leaf, the scene of its most distant journeys, its country, its cradle, its grave. With what modesty, then, should the highest intellect bow down and
bear itself in presence of its Creator! Let the patriarch, in language worthy of so high a theme, describe
his majesty. "He stretcheth out the north over the
empty place, and hangeth the earth upon nothing. He
holdeth back the face of his throne, and spreadeth his
cloud upon it. He hath compassed the waters with
bounds, until the day and night come to an end. The
pillars of heaven tremble and are astonished at his reproof; he divideth the sea with his power, and by his
understanding he smiteth through the proud; by his
spirit he hath garnished the heavens; his hand hath
formed the crooked serpent; lo, these are parts of his




GOD GLORIFIED IN REDEMPTION.       141
ways; but how little a portion is heard of him? but
the thunder of his power who can understand?" Unbeliever as he was, the great Laplace echoed these
sentiments of Job, in this, one of his last and not
least memorable utterances "It is the little that we
know; it is the great that remains unknown." And
in the confession of his ignorance, has not a Christian,
and still greater philosopher, left us perhaps the finest
illustration of his wisdom? Newton's most brilliant
discoveries reflect no brighter luster on Newton's
name than his well known comparison of himself to a
little child-a child who had gathered some few
pebbles on the shores of a vast and unexplored ocean.
Man, however-although comprehending but little
of the ways of God-is privileged to contemplate, and
is in himself honored to illustrate, the noblest of them
all. He may be a beggar, but, if grace has made him
a new creature, there is more of God seen beneath his
rags than in the sun itself; nor does that brilliant sky
studded thick with stars reveal the glorious fullness of
Divinity that shines in the cross of Calvary and the
face of Jesus. Bethlehem Ephratah was "little among
the cities of Judah."  Our world also seems little
among the suns and systems of creation-a dark, dim,
insignificant spot; yet the eyes of the universe have
been turned on our planet. It has all the importance
spiritually, which physically was attributed to it,
when men supposed it to be the pivot and center of
creation.
Man's world is the place in the great universe from
which God and his attributes may be best beheld and
studied. It corresponds to that one spot in a noble
temple-lying right beneath the lofty dome-where
the spectator, commanding all the grandest features




142         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
of the edifice, is instructed to look around him, if he
would see the monument of its architect. For where
can we see God as we behold him on the cross and in
the gospel? I scale bartizan or tower to embrace at
one view the map of a mighty city. I climb the sides
of some lofty hill to survey the land that lies in beauty
at its feet. And had I the universe to range over,
where should I go to obtain the fullest exhibition of
the Godhead? Would I soar on angel-wings to the
heights of heaven to look on its happiness, and listen
to angel's hymns? Would I cleave the darkness,
and-sailing round the edge of the fiery gulf-listen
to the wail, and weep over the misery of the lost?
No; turning away alike from these sunny heights
and doleful regions, I would remain in this world of
ours; and, traveling to Palestine, would stand beneath the dome of heaven with my feet on Calvaryon that consecrated spot, where the cross of salvation
rose, and the blood of a Redeemer fell. Here I find
the center of a spiritual universe. Here the hosts of
heaven descended to acquaint themselves with God in
Christ; here, in a completed arch, if I may so speak,
locked fast by the key, all the properties of Divinity
meet; here, concentrated as in a burning focus, its
varied attributes blend and shine.
We had begun to show how these attributes were
exhibited in the work of redemption; and having
illustrated this in the power of God, we now remark
thatI. The wisdom of God is glorified in redemption.
The British Museum possesses in the Portland Vase
one of the finest remains of ancient art; and it may
be remembered how-some years ago-the world of




GOD GLORIFIED IN REDEMPTION.       143
taste was shocked to hear that this precious relic had
been shattered by a maniac's hand. Without disparaging classic taste or this exquisite example of it,
I venture to say, that there is not a poor worm which
we tread upon, nor a sere leaf that, like a ruined but
reckless man, dances merrily in its fallen state to the
autumn winds, but has superior claims upon our
study and admiration. The child who plucks a lily
or rose to pieces, or crushes the fragile form of a fluttering insect, destroys a work which the highest art
could not invent, nor man's best skilled hand construct. And there was not a leaf quivered on the
trees which stood under the domes of the crystal
palace, but eclipsed the brightest glories of loom or
chisel; it had no rival among the triumphs of invention, which a world went there to see. Yes; in his
humblest works, God infinitely surpasses the highest
efforts of created skill. "Wisdom is justified of her
children;" nor shall our God be left without a witness so long as thunders peal and lightnings flash,
and breakers beat upon the shore; so long as a
flower blooms in the field, a fin cleaves the deep, or a
wing cuts the air; so long as glowing suns blaze
above, or dying glow-worms shine below. That man
gave the Atheist a crushing answer, who told him
that the very feather with which he penned the words,
"There is no God," refuted the audacious lie.
In redemption this wisdom is pre-eminent. That
work associates such amazing wisdom with love, and
power, and mercy, that the Saviour of man is called
"the wisdom of God." The Apostle selects the definite article, and pronounces Christ to be " the power
of God and the wisdom of God.". Can any doubt the
propriety of the language, who reflects but for a mo



144         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
ment on what a hard task wisdom was set-what a
difficult problem she was called to solve-  hen man
was to be saved? She had to forge a key that should
unlock the grave; she had to build a life-boat that
should live in a sea of fire; she had to construct a
ladder long enough and strong enough to scale the
skies; she was called on to invent a plan whereby
justice might be fully satisfied, and yet the guilty
saved. The highest intelligences had been at fault
here-they might well have asked, who is sufficient
for these things? "He saw that there was no man,
and wondered that there was no intercessor."' In
such an emergency-for such a task-wisdom sufficient dwelt only with the Godhead-in him in
whom   "are hid all the treasures of wisdom  and
knowledge."  "How shall man be just with God," is
a mystery insolvable to all but Him in whom the
most extraordinary and apparently conflicting elements have met;-who has a double nature in a
single person-who has a divine Father and human
mother, who is the only begottefi'of God and firstborn of a virgin womb-who, being in one sense dust,
in another sense Divinity, has a nature to satisfy and
a nature to suffer.
Now, this wisdom of God in redemption is brought
out in no aspect'more strikingly than in the harmony
which it has established among what appeared conflicting attributes. Here is nothing like the prophet's
graphic picture of a city, where chariots jostle each
other on the streets; nor like what happens even on
the spacious ocean, when in the gloom of night bark
dashes into bark, and foundering crews find in their
ship a coffin, and in the deep sea their grave. Harmony, indeed, sits enthroned amid the order of the




GOD GLORIFIED IN REDEMPTION.       145
silent heavens. Flaming sun, and wandering comet,
and rolling planets, move in their orbits without accident or collision; yet in the harmony established
among the attributes of God, redemption illustrates a
higher wisdom. There is one fact, which brings this
out very palpably. With the deepest interests at
stake-in circumstances eminently fitted to sharpen
his ingenuity-man never approached, nor so much
as guessed at, the only method of salvation. We can
show how near preceding philosophers have been to
the later discoveries of science. For many centuries
before their practical application, China was acquainted
with the properties both of gunpowder and the magnet; and have not we seen one astronomer get upon
the track of a star, and start a thought, by which
another-who pursued it to its ultimate conclusionshas been conducted to the brilliant discovery? Every
one acquainted with the history of science knows that
some of the greatest inventions of the nineteenth century were all but anticipated at former and even remote periods; another step-but another step —and
the world had possessed them ages before,-and, centuries ago, man would have steered his way across the
sea by the compass needle-yoked the spirits of fire
and water to his triumphant wheels-and sent messages across oceans and continents on the wings of
lightning.
The mystery of godliness, however —God manifest
in the flesh —a Daysman such as the patriarch desired
-with the right hand of Divinity to lay on God, and
the left hand of humanity to lay on man, and thus the
"fellow' and friend of both, to reconcile them-in
short, a man to suffer and a God to satisfy, this was a
thought which it never entered the mind of man to
7




146         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
conceive. We find nothing corresponding to this in
the creeds and religions of a heathen world. There is
neither glimpse nor glimmering of it in these. Every
way but the right one was thought of. Here, the sinner seeks by his own works to work out redemption;
here, by costly sacrifices, he attempts to appease
offended justice; here, in children-whom he offers
on the altar, or passes through the fire to Molochhe gives the "fruit of his body for the sin of his
soul;" here again-doing less violence to natureguilty of a crime less contrary to reason and revolting
to humanity, he courts death beneath the wheels of
Juggernaut, and sheds the blood of his body to expiate the guilt of his soul. These were the sands on
which man built his house. These were the straws
drowning men caught at. There never entered into
other mind than God's a plan, or shadow of a plan, by
which sweet Mercy might be espoused to stern Justice, and God-in the luster of untarnished holiness,
and the majesty of a vindicated law-might appear,
as he appears in Jesus, the "just and yet the justifier
of the ungodly."
II. The holiness of God is glorified in redemption.
The eyes are moved by the heart, as the hands of a
time-piece are turned by the internal machinery. We
turn them to what the heart loves, and from what the
heart loathes. The most emphatic expression of dislike is a silent one —the closed eyes and averted head.
Such an attitude as I can fancy Zedekiah's to have
been, when they brought out his sons to slay them in
their father's presence. And " to wound him that
God had smitten," to add a crushing weight to his
captivity and chains, to imprint a spectacle on his




GOD GLORIFIED IN REDEMPTION.      147
memory, that should haunt him like a horrid specter,
when sight was quenched and hope for ever gone, his
barbarous enemies put the sons to death before they
put out the father's eyes. When you have in fancy
imagined yourself in that father's place, imagining
how, when you had implored them to begin with you,
and save you this horrid sight, and they had refused
the favor of these burning irons, how you would have
closed your eyes, and turned shuddering away, you
will be able in some measure to appreciate the abhorrence with which a holy God regards iniquity. Hear
the prophet-" Thou art of purer eyes than to behold
evil, and canst not look on iniquity."
Nothing might appear more strongly to express the
holiness of God than this language, " Thou canst not
look on iniquity;" and yet his hatred of sin is, beyond doubt, much more fully expressed by the very
way in which he saves the sinner; more fully expressed in redemption, than if, executing relentless
vengeance, with an eye that knew no pity, and with
a hand that would not spare, he had made an utter
end of sinners —such an end that, to borrow the language of the prophet, " there was none that moved
the wing, or opened the mouth, or peeped." What
man, what father, has not felt so on reading the story
of the Roman judge? Had that stern patriot condemned common criminals enough to make the scaffolds of justice and the gutters of Rome run red with
blood, that wholesale slaughter had been a weak expression of his abhorrence of crime, compared with
the death of this solitary youth. When the culprit —
his own child, the infant he had carried in his arms,
his once sweet and beautiful boy, the child of his tenderest affections, who had wound himself round a




148         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
father's heart-rose and received the immolating sentence at a father's lips, oh! that iron man offered the
costliest sacrifice man ever made at the shrine of justice, and earned for Roman virtue a proverbial fame.
But that is nothing to the spectacle which redemption offers. Over what are these angels hovering?
On what do they bend a gaze so fixed, so intent, so
full of awe and wonder? Sons of the morning! they
had sung in their joy over a new-born world. Attendants at the birth of earth! they now hail with intenser
wonder, and praise in loftier strains, the birth in a
stable, the appearance of a babe in Bethlehem. They
had seen suns blazing into light; they had seen worlds
start into being, and watched them as, receiving their
first impulse from the Creator's hand, they rolled away
into the far realm of space; but never had they followed world or sun with such interest as they follow
the weary steps of this Traveler from his humble
cradle to the cross of Calvary. What draws all their
eyes to that sacred spot? what keeps them gazing on
it with looks of such solemn interest? The Son of
God dies beneath his Father's hand. Innocence bleeds
for guilt; divine innocence for human guilt; a spectacle at which, in the mysterious language of the
Apcialypse, " There was silence in heaven."  On the
night Daniel passed in the lion's den the Persian
would hear no music;-nor flute, nor harp, nor
psaltery, nor dulcimer, woke the echoes of his palace;
the daughters of music were all brought low. God's
Son is dying on the tree. I can fancy that during
these dread hours there was no music in heaventhere was an awful pause; silent every harp, hushed
the voice of song; and when all is over, and the cry,
"It is finished," has been heard, and the last quiver




GOD GLORIFIED IN REDEMPTION.      149
has passed from Jesus' lips, I can fancy how these
angels broke the awful silence, and, turning round to
the throne, with new, deeper, holier reverence, exclaimed, " Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty."
This holiness, so glorified in redemption, appears
still more plainly, when we consider how the eyes of
Love both multiply and magnify beauties; and, overlooking all defects, reconcile us even to deformity.
How beautifully, tenderly, touchingly, affection clings
to an idiot child! and with what ingenuity does Love
palliate in our children faults which are tolerable and
tolerated in no one else. She flings a broad mantle
over the shame of child and parent, brother, sister,
and friend. See how Eli-a too indulgent parenttolerates crimes in his sons, which it is only doing
this holy man justice to believe, he would have died
rather than have himself committed. Now, in our
judgment, the holiness of God shines very conspicuously in this, that, even when sin was associated with
his beloved Son, it appeared none the less vile in his
eyes; perhaps viler, fouler, still more loathsome,just as the churchyard mould, flung by the sexton
from a grave upon winter's fresh fallen snow, looks
the blacker for the contrast, Love would have spared
the pains of a beloved Son, but it is met and mastered by God's hatred of sin. He looks on our sins
as laid on Christ, and still he hates them with a perfect hatred, turning on him, that bare them on his own
body on the tree, an unmitigated vengeance. To reach
sin-to kill sin-he passes the sword through the
bosom of his well-beloved Son; and if he did not
spare even his own Son when he took our sins upon
him, oh! what holiness in God  Whom will he spare?
What will he spare? What a startling alarum is rung




150         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
from Calvary in the ears of a drowsy world! With
your eye on the cross, within sight of its agonies,
within sound of its groans, I ask the question, and I
wait for an answer, If he did not spare his own
Son, how shall he spare the impenitent and unbelieving? "If they do these things in a green tree, what
shall be done in the dry?"
III. The justice of God is glorified in redemption.
The prophet is perplexed. He strains his eye to
penetrate a mystery. He says to God, "Thou art of
purer eyes than to behold evil;" but then, as one unable to reconcile the character of God with the dealings of his providence, he asks, "Wherefore lookest
thou upon them that deal treacherously, and boldest
thy tongue when the wicked devoureth the man that
is more righteous than he?" Now, although-as that
question implies —clouds and darkness are round about
Jehovah's throne, whatever shadow present events
may appear to cast upon his justice, and to whatever
trials, as in the wrongs of a Joseph or David, faith
may be put, in believing that there is a just God upon
earth, his justice is as conspicuous in redemption as
the cross which illustrated it. Sinners, indeed, are
pardoned, but then, their sins are punished; the guilty
are acquitted, but then, their guilt is condemned; the
sinner lives, but then, the surety dies; the debtor is
discharged, not, however, till the debt is paid. Dying,
"the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to
God," Jesus satisfies for us; and, as we have seen a
discharged account pierced by a nail, and hung to
gather cobwebs on the dusty wall, he who paid our
debt, nor left us one farthing to pay, has taken the




GOD GLORIFIED IN REDEMPTION.        151
handwriting that was against us and nailed it to his
cross.
And now, I say, that justice is not only satisfied,
but more than satisfied. She is better pleased to have
her debtors free in heaven, than locked up in hell.
It must be so. Is it better for the creditor to hold the
money in his purse than the man that owed it in a
prison? What man of common humanity or common
sense does not esteem himself happier to have the
debt paid, than the miserable debtor rotting in jail?
Observe, I pray you, that in regard to the lost, and
her claims upon them, justice, in a sense, is never
satisfied. The pains of hell do not, can not exhaust
the penalty.  Dreadful sentence!  Banishment for
life, for life eternal, from the blissful presence of God.
Mysterious debt!  A  debt ever paying, yet never
paid. No wonder, in one sense, that Jesus died to
save. The calamity is so incalculably tremendous,
that the occasion was worthy of the interposition of
God, and the salvation is most worthy of our grateful
and instant acceptance. Embrace it; for no length
of suffering discharges this debt-a truth established
by the fact that the debtor is never discharged.
Justice is never satisfied; and it is plain therefore, to
say nothing of his mercy, that God's justice is more
illustriously glorified, and more fully satisfied through
the satisfaction rendered by our substitute, than it
could have been by our everlasting sufferings.
Nor is that all. It is a mean and vulgar error to
suppose that the only office of justice is to punish.
She has higher and more pleasing functions. Sternly,
indeed, she stands by the gallows tree; and, when she
has drawn the bolt, and launched her victim into eter



152          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
nity, she leaves the scene, sorrowing it may be, yet
satisfied. It is a melancholy satisfaction. From that
revolting spectacle, turn to this hall of assembled
nobles. Amid the brilliant, flashing, gorgeous, magnificence of the scene, all eyes are fixed on one man.
He comes red with the blood of a hundred battles,
and crowned with the trophies of a hundred victories;
he comes at the summons of a sovereign whose crown
he has saved; he comes to receive the thanks of a
country, grateful for his defence of its shores. Justice
presides in that assembly. She was satisfied on the
scaffold, here she is more than satisfied; pleasure and
triumph light up her eye, as, with lavish hand, she
dispenses titles and rewards, and on a head, so often
covered by the God of battles, she places a laurel
crown.
In fact, it is her noblest function to reward merit,
to crown the brows of virtue or of valor, and send
suspected innocence back to the world amid the plaudits, and flushed with the triumph of an honorable
acquittal. Justice did a stern but righteous act, when
she hung up Haman in the face of the sun, and before
the eyes of the city-a warning to all tyrants, and a
terror to all sycophants; yet it was a loftier and a happier exercise of her functions to call the Jew from obscurity, to marshal him along the crowded streets with
a crest-fallen enemy walking at his stirrup, and royal
heralds going before to blow his fame, and ever and
anon to cry, " Thus shall it be done to the man whom
the king delighteth to honor." Even so, shall the justice of God be glorified when heads, now lying in the
grave, are.crowned with honor. Believer! lift up thy
drooping head. Thou shalt lift it up in glory from
the dust.  "He is faithful and just to forgive us our




GOD GLORIFIED IN REDEMPTION.        153
sins." In consideration of a Redeemer's righteousness, God shall crown thee; in the righteousness that
is on thee, reward the work of his Son; and in the
righteousness that is in thee, approve the work of his
Spirit. The august assembly of the skies shall be a
spectacle of glorified justice. In the Head with its
members all exalted, the Captain and every soldier
crowned, Jesus shall receive the full payment of His
wages, and justice shall reward a Saviour in the saved.
He shall see of the travail of his soul, and shall be
satisfied."
7*




hClbe l  mrta of 60r iltestratrb in   alu-wtiton
And I will sanctify my great name, which ye have profaned.
EZEKIEL xxxvi. 23.
GRADUAL development appears to be the law of
nature, or, to speak more correctly, the method of the
divine government. The day does not rush into light,
nor blaze upon a dazzled world with the flash of an
explosion; but the sky brightens over-head, and the
various features of the landscape grow more and more
distinct below, as the first streaks of morning are developing into a perfect day. Nature never moves abruptly-by starts and sudden impulses; —the day
bursts not into light, neither do the birds into song,
nor buds into leaf, nor flowers into full-blown beauty.
From her grave she comes forth at the voice of
spring, but not all of a sudden, like the sepulchred
Lazarus, at the call of Jesus. The season advances
with a steady march-by gradual and graceful steps.
From the first notes that break the long winter silence,
till groves are ringing with songs; from the first bud
which looks out on departing storms, till woods are
robed in their varied foliage; from the first sweet
flower —welcome harbinger of spring-that hangs its
white bell beside the lingering snow, till gardens and
meadows bloom, and earth offers incense to her God
from a thousand censers; from summer's first ripe
fruit, till autumn sheaves fall to the reaper's song, and




GOD GLORIFIED IN REDEMPTION.       155
fields are bare, and stackyards are full, and every farm
keeps " harvest home"- all is progressive.
Man himself presents no exception to this law. The
cradle is shorter than the coffin; infancy outshoots its
dress; the stammering tongue grows eloquent; the
tottering foot follows the chase, or stands balanced
on the rocking mast; and those feeble arms, which
now clasp a mother's neck, shall ere long battle with
difficulties, subdue the rugged soil, or lay groaning
forests low.
Our minds also grow with our bodies. They open
like a flower-bud; memory, fancy, reason, reflection,
lie folded up in an infant's soul like the leaves of
an unblown rose. Bathed by night in dews, and by
day with light, these open out to show their colors
and shed their fragrance; so those expand under the
tender influences of a mother's culture, and the dawning light of truth.
The law that reigns paramount in the worlds of matter and mind-universal as that of gravitation-extends itself into the spiritual kingdom. The God of
nature is the God of grace, and as he acts outside the
church, he acts within it. In the first place, the gospel system itself was gradually developed. The Bible
was once a very little book. It grew by degrees to
its present size; and, as in a house, stone is laid on
stone, and story built upon story, so book was added
to book-history to history-prophecy to prophecygospel to gospel-and one epistle to another, till the.
hands of John laid on the copestone, and, standing on
the pinnacle of this sacred edifice, he pronounced
God's wide and withering curse on all who should impair its integrity. The temple, in which "the Lord
of the temple" appeared, took forty years to comnplete,




156         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
but the written word was a work of two thousand,
and the revealed word of not less than twice two
thousand years. It was a long way between Paradise
and Patmos; and a protracted dawn from the first
streak of morning that rose on the Fall, till the sun
introduced the perfect day. A period of at least four
thousand years elapsed between the curse of Eden
and the cross of Calvary.
In the second place, while the truth was thus slowly
developed and let in by degrees on a benighted world,
the effect of that truth on a benighted soul is also
gradual. No man starts up into a finished Christian.
The very best come from their graves, like Lazarus,
"clothed in grave clothes"-not like Jesus, who left
his death dress behind him; and in our remaining
corruptions, all, alas! carry some of these cerements
about with them, nor drop them but at the door of
heaven. The Christian is an example of gradual development. When our growth is quickest, how slow
it is! As, from some fresh stain we wash our hands
in the blood of Jesus; as, from the field of daily conflict we retire at evening to seek the healing of the
balm of Gilead; as, with David, we eye some eminence from which we have fallen, or, looking back on
some former period, measure the little progress we
have made-how often are we constrained to ask in
disappointment, " When shall I be holy?" How often
are we constrained to cry in prayer, "How long, 0
Lord, how long?" At times it looks as if the dawn
would never brighten into day. We almost fear that
our fate shall have its emblem in some unhappy
flower, which-withered by frost, or the home of a
worm-never blows at all; but dies like an unborn
infant, whose coffin is a mother's womb. This shall




GOD GLORIFIED IN REDEMPTION.       157
not happen with any child of grace. God will perform all things for his people, and perfect what concerneth them. Still, although He who has begun a
good work in them will carry it on to the day of the
Lord Jesus, all the figures of Scripture indicate a
gradual progress. The believer is a babe who grows
" to the stature of a perfect man in Christ," and " the
path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth
more and more unto the perfect day."
These laws of development have their limit in
creation. They affect not God. He has made no
progress. There was room for none. His maturity,
eternally as well as divinely perfect, knows neither
growth nor age. His wisdom, knowledge, goodness,
love, justice, truth, and mercy, were always-millions
of ages ago-were what they are now. Knowing no
growth, he can suffer no decay. It is the sun which
rises that sets; but it is the peculiar attribute of Divinity to be "the same yesterday, to day, and for
ever."  His being is as an infinite ocean, that holds
within its bosom all that lives and is, that has neither
shore nor bottom, beginning nor end, ebb nor flow,
calm nor tempest; which no changes alter, nor tributaries supply; and which, affected neither by tide nor
time, has been, is, and ever shall be full. How adorable is God! He is great, and greatly to be feared.
The attributes of God, however, have been gradually
revealed to the knowledge of his intelligent creatures,
and their light has risen on the universe like daybreak upon our planet.   For example, when he
created angels, suns, and worlds, God, in the first
instance, displayed his being, wisdom, power, holiness, and goodness. Then came the first Fall. Its
scene was laid in heaven, where a part of the angelic




158         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
host committed sin; and this event called forth the
exhibition of another attribute, or-to speak with
more propriety-a new display of justice. Punitive
justice was now revealed. She unsheathed her glittering sword, and it fell in vengeance on the workers
of iniquity, and sheared their glory from angel's
heads.
Time rolled on; how long we know not. At
length our world was created-or rather brought into
its present form-and became the scene of our parents' probation. Sin came; death trod on the heels
of sin; for, as the Apostle tells, " Sin entered into the
world, and death by sin, and so death passed upon all
men, for that all have sinned." Now the culprits
stand trembling before their Maker, nor is there an
angel who looks on, but expects to see the sword once
more unsheathed, and hear the thunders, that shook
thrones and principalities in heaven, roll, and peal,
and crash among the hills of earth. At this awful
moment-at that eventful crisis-how unexpected the
voice which came from the most excellent majesty"Deliver from going down to the pit; I have found a
ransom."  To the surprise of angels, from out the
light that vails the throne, a beautiful form steps
forth, and Mercy, arresting the uplifted arm, turns its
weapon from man on her own bared, spotless, loving
bosom. In the Son of God about to become incarnate, she says-" Lo! I come to do thy will, O God."
Ready both to satisfy and suffer for them, Jesus interposes for his elect as he did for his disciples,'when,
stepping in between them and the armed band, he
said-"I am he; let these go their way." This
brings us now to remark



GOD GLORIFIED IN REDEMPTION.      159
I. The mercy of God is glorified in redemption.
To do justice to God, to the Saviour, and to our
subject, we must be careful not to confound pity with
mercy. This is no example of a distinction without a
difference. Some time ago, upon a cold winter day,
we passed the door of a humble abode. A venerable
old woman stood in the open door-way, with a very
wretched, ragged child before her. With one hand
she offered a piece of bread-sharing her food with a
poverty sorer than her own-while the other held up
a bowl of milk to the lips of the sad, shivering, emaciated creature; and had you seen the benevolence
that beamed in. her aged face as she gazed on the
orphan partaking of her bounty, you would have
gone and done likewise-won over to humanity by
such a lovely and living picture of the truth that
charity is twice blessed-blest in those that give, and
blest in those that get. Now, however beautiful that
scene was to the eye of humanity, it was not a display
of mercy. Not mercy but pity moved that kind hand
and gentle breast; and there the aged matron stood,
an example of what is not uncommon among the
poor-lofty charity in lowly life. Take another example: —A man builds an asylum for the destitutea harbor of refuge for the wrecks of fortune. This may
be an honorable monument to his memory-it may
be, perhaps, but a monument of his vanity; but,
whether it be erected for the benefit of the poor, or
to gratify the craving for posthumous fame, it is not
a temple of mercy. The wandering mendicant, into
whose hand you drop your money, as he begs his
way on to a grave, where, with his head sheltered
beneath the sod, he shall feel neither cold nor hunger,
appeals to your compassion, not to your mercy. lHe




160         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
has done you no wrong-he has not stolen your
goods, nor traduced your character, nor inflicted injury on your person, nor in any way whatever disturbed your peace; and so it is but pity that is expressed in the charity which shares her bread with
the hungry, and spares a corner of an ample cloak to
cover the nakedness of the poor.
Mercy is a higher attribute-an act of mercy is a
far nobler achievement. She sits enthroned among
the divine Graces. On her heavenly wings man rises
to his loftiest elevation, and makes his nearest approach and similitude to God. This distinction between compassion and mercy is clearly enunciated in
the sacred Scriptures. We are told that "like as a
father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them
that fear him;" but the Lord is merciful to them that
fear him not. Not only did he so love the world as
to give up his Son to die for it, but he commended his
love to us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ
died for us. We pity simple suffering; but let pity
and love be extended to guilty suffering, and you have
now the very element of mercy. Mercy is the forgiveness of an injury; mercy is the pardon of a sinner.
Smiling when justice frowns, and extending her
favors out and beyond those who are merely without
merit, she bestows them on those who are full of demerit.
Leaving the priest and Levite to walk on in their
cold and heartless indifference, look at this good Samaritan, as, bending over a bleeding form, he binds
the wounds of a man whom robbers have assaulted,
and whom these hypocrites have left to die. There,
pity kneels beside suffering humanity, bears a brother's burden, and is afflicted in all his afflictions. Now




GOD GLORIFIED IN REDEMPTION.       161
from that beautiful spectacle turn to Calvary and the
cross on which Jesus dies. Here,-herself wounded,
and bleeding,-Mercy hangs over a wicked world, and
with her tears sheds blessings on the head of murderers-" Father, forgive them; they know not what
they do." In fine, the objects of pity are sufferers
who have been unfortunate; the objects of mercy are
sufferers who have been guilty. And now understanding mercy to be the forgiveness of a wrong, the
pardon of a sinner, the kindness of the injured to the
injurer, where, as in redemption —where, indeed, but
in redemption-is this crowning attribute of the Godhead to be seen? save for redemption, this fairest
jewel in the crown of heaven had been concealedunknown as a pearl still shelled in depths of ocean,
or any diamond that still lies bedded in the dark
mines of earth.
Guilty man embraced within her arms, how visible
is mercy now! WVhere can we turn our eyes but she
meets them? Pointing to the pit of perdition, do you
say, look there! Well, we look there. We see mercy
there: not mercy enjoyed, but mercy rejected. Turning with horror from the sight, do we look up? In
every saint, robed in righteousness and reigning in
glory, we behold a monument of mercy, and exclaim
with David, " Thy mercy, 0 Lord, is in the heavens."
And as to this guilty world, are not the arms of mercy
around it? They preserve it and sustain it. Every
sinner is a monument of sparing, and every believer
is a monument of saving mercy. God's people in their
creeds, catechisms, and confessions may differ in their
mode of expressing some points of faith, but in this
confession all concur-these words each and all adopt
— "Great is thy mercy toward me, thou hast delivered




162         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
my soul from the lowest hell." There is mercy above
the ground, aye, and beneath it. There is mercy in
the very grave. You may see her form, and hear her
sweetly singing on a believer's tomb. To that quiet
harbor God has brought many a dear one before the
storm burst. There, earth, like a gentle mother, has
wrapped her mantle round a tender child; and, when
the tempest was beating upon their own heads, have
not many been thankful that some, whom they loved,
were now beyond its reach-sleeping quietly in the
peaceful grave. Yes! and to believers themselves
there is the kindest mercy in the grave. How can
they doubt it? Were I the tenant of an old, crumbling cottage, through whose chinks and rents the cold
rain was dripping, and frosty winds blew, it were, I
think, a kindness to pull down this crazy building
and build me a palace in its room. Quarrel not with
death's rude hand. It pulls to pieces this frail tabernacle, that, on the day when mortal shall assume immortality, mercy may raise for me from its wreck, " a
building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal
in the heavens."
In short, on every thing I read the words, " The
earth, O Lord, is full of thy mercy." Mercies arrive
on the wings of every hour; mercies supply our table;
mercies flow in life's brimming cup. They fall in
every shower, and shine in every sunbeam. They lie
as thick around man's tent, as desert manna in the
days of old. Here, mercy runs to meet the returning
prodigal, and opens her arms to fold him to her bosom.
Here, she pleads with sinners, and pronounces pardon
over the chief of them. Here, she weeps with sufferers,
and dries the tear upon sorrow's cheek. And here,
eyeing the storm, she launches her life-boat through




GOD GLORIFIED IN REDEMPTION,       163
foaming breakers, and pulls for the wreck where souls
are perishing. It is her blessed hand which rings the
Sabbath bell, and her voice which, on savage shores
or from Christian pulpits, proclaims a Saviour for the
lost. None she despises; she despairs of none; and,
not to be scared away by foulest sin, she stands by its
guilty bed, and, bending down to death's dull earwhen the twelfth hour is just about to strike-she
looks into the glassy eye and cries, Believe, 0 believe,
only believe, " whosoever believeth in the Lord Jesus
shall not perish, but have everlasting life."
II. In redemption, God is glorified in the complete
discomfiture of all his and our enemies.
He is glorified by Satan's defeat.
God made man in his own image, and put him on
probation. But was he, could he, be indifferent to the
issue? Assuredly not; for, although he does not will
the death of guilt, he must, in a sense, have willed
the triumph of innocence. What father ever saw his
son leave for the field of battle, and did not follow
him with wishes for his success? When the Spartan
widow laced on the armor of her boy, and, kissing
his cheek, sent him away to the fight, in handing him
his father's shield, she bade him return with it or on
it-dead, or a conqueror-in honorable life or not less
honorable death. And I cannot but believe that the
life and honor of our first parents were as dear to God
-dearer, dearer far, than ever son's to mother; for,
such was his love, that, even in our guilt he commended his love to us by giving up his Son to die
for us.
Well; the hour of conflict came, and with it God's
enemy and man's-the Adversary, the Devil, the Evil




164         TIHE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
One, Satan, Prince of Darkness, the Power and Potentate of Hell. A poor drowning man will seize the
swimmer's limb, clasp his arms, nor relax the deathgrasp, till, after a brief struggle, they go down together. Thus it has often happened, most pitifully
and miserably, that the perishing has, in his unwise
attempts to save himself, been the death of a generous
friend. But there is in sin a deep and damnable malignity, which, without any hope of personal advantage, prompts the sinner to seize all within his grasp.
That he may drag others down into the same perdition with himself, he lays siege to honesty to conquer
it, to virtue to corrupt it; and hence the danger of
ungodly associates;-" A companion of fools shall be
destroyed." It was this evil principle which we see
every day at work, that carried havoc into Eden; yet
not this alone. Besides the inherent hatred that sin
bears to holiness, Satan was smarting under his wounds,
and, with a fire as unquenchable as that of his own
hell, he burned to be avenged. Was there not a vacant throne in heaven? Had it not once been his?
and still been his, but that God had hurled him into
perdition? God was his enemy, and he was God's;
he would be revenged; he would defeat his purposes;
cross, thwart, disappoint him; and wreak his vengeance on God in the only way within a creature's
reach-he would wound a father's heart through the
sides of his children.
Placed on probation, man looked, lusted, ate, sinned,
and fell. Satan triumphed. With the ruins of Eden
around him, he stood above the grave of human hopes,
and, as it seemed also, of heaven's intentions. He
contemplated with proud satisfaction the triumph of
his malignant subtilty. As he wrung the first tears




GOD GLORIFIED IN REDEMPTION.      165
from human eyes, I can fancy how he taunted his
weeping victims with the question-" Where is now
thy God?" Pharaoh, ere God had done with him,
and he with God, got his question answered —" Who
is the Lord, that I should obey his voice?" And the
Devil got his answered, too. When the fullness of time
has come, in a son of that woman Satan meets her
God, to find in him not a match only, but a Master.
When his vessel has broken in the storm, and Ajax
stands unsheltered on a rock in mid-ocean, he is represented as in anger with the gods, shaking his
clenched hand at heaven. In Eden, for a time at
least, Satan stands in a different and prouder position;
he has conquered; he has won the victory; who shall
pluck it from his grasp? He tramples on earth, and
laughs at heaven. Although on a grander scale, and
involving much grander issues, the scene reminds us
of the day when-with the Philistines clustered on
this mountain, and Israel on that-there stalked out into
the narrow valley, Goliath, the pride of Gath, a moving tower, terrible to look on, in height six cubits and
a span. High above his dancing plume, the giant
shakes a spear, shafted like a weaver's beam, and
thunders up this challenge to the trembling host" Am not I a Philistine? I defy the armies of Israel
this day. Give me a man that we may fight together."
So Satan stood, in bold defiance and unchallenged
possession of the field; and now God might have left
man to reap the full harvest of his sin and folly-to
drink the cup which his own hands had filled. In the
words of Scripture, He had entered into "a covenant
with death;" he had been at an "agreement with hell;"
-let' him reap as he has sowed. But what then?




166         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
Why, Satan then would at least have seemed to have
the advantage-would have seemed to be a match for
God; and have boasted ability and skill enough, by
his own wiles, to thwart the purposes of eternal wisdom.
In that event, all men should have perished; but in
that event, would Jehovah's power have stood out as
unchallengeable, or his glory as clear, as at this day?
No. God had another end in view in permitting this
temporary triumph. Why does he permit it?
Observe yon skillful wrestler!  He embraces his
antagonist, and, with athletic power, lifting him from
the ground, he holds him aloft; ah  but he raises, to
dash him back on the earth with a more crushing fall.
So fared it with the Evil One. God permits him to
scale the walls, to carry the citadel by assault, and to
plant for a time his defiant standard on the battlements
of this world. He does this, that from his proud eminence he may hurl him into a deeper hell; and, angels
rejoicing in man's salvation, and devils discomfited
in their leader's defeat-both friends and foes-might
be constrained to say, " Hast thou an arm like God,
or canst thou thunder with a voice like his?" Fromthis, believer! when providences are of darkest, and
thou canst not trace the footsteps of thy God, learn
to place unquestioning confidence in his ways and
wisdom.
While God is glorified by Satan's defeat, he is glorified
also by the very time and manner of it.
You ask, why did four thousand years elapse between the promise and the promised One? I may
reply, by asking you, why does this accomplished
racer, who stands abreast of his competitor, not start
along with him? Why, lingering by the starting post,
does he give his opponent a long advantage? and then,




GOD GLORIFIED IN REDEMPTION.        167
springing forward on the feet of the wind, approach
him, pass him, leave him lagging far behind? Why,
but to prove more plainly his own superiority, and
embitter the bitterness of an antagonist's defeat. Or,
we may ask you, why, when the news of his friend's
illness was carried to Galilee, did our Lord tarry there,
nor, hurrying through Samaria, hasten to the relief of
Lazarus? He does not even arrive just when the
breath has left, and ere the form of him he loved is
yet stiff and cold in death. He leaves Lazarus to die.
He leaves Lazarus to be buried. He leaves Lazarus
to'lie four days rotting in the grave. Why this strange
delay? why, but that at the door of the dead man's
tomb he might stand forth, not only the conqueror of
death, but Lord also of the grave.
On the alarm of war, the news fly through the land,
beacon fires are blazing on every hill and headland,
and before one hostile foot has touched the soil, hurrying from shepherd's hut and peasant's cottage, lonely glens and crowded cities, freemen line the beach to
fight a country's enemies on a country's shores. In the
great battle of redemption there is no such haste.
Not for four days, nor even four years, but for the
long period of four thousand years, Satan is left in
all but undisputed possession of his conquest. God
leaves him ample time to entrench himself; to found,
to strengthen, to establish, to extend his kingdom.
And why? but that a Redeemer's power might be the
more apparent in its ignominious and total overthrow.
And in this, Christ glorified himself; just as we should
do, were we to leave the sapling in possession of the
soil until it grew into a tree, and then, bending on it
more than a giant's strength, should lay its head, and
pride, and glory, in the dust. As a Redeemer, Jesus




168          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
Christ was to show himself to be the "Power" as well
as the " Wisdom" of God. This is the manner of redemption. And may I not take occasion from it to
tell the oldest, hardest, most hoary sinner, to hope,
and turn to God? tHe has left you long; He has left
you till now; He has left you amid the infirmities of
years to grow stronger in sin. Despair not nor think
that he has shut the door of mercy! What if he has
left you so long, just to show how he can save at the
very uttermost,-call at the eleventh hour,- and by
the breath of his Spirit cause " dry bones" to live.
God is not only glorified in Satan's defeat, and also in
the time and manner of it, but pre-eminently glorified in
the instrument of it.
He was no veteran, the giant's match in years, experience, stature, or strength, who defeated Goliath.
When the battle between the two nations was fought
by their respective champions, fire flew not from opposing swords, nor were spears shivered on opposing
shields; the valley shook not beneath the tread and
collision of two giants; nor did victory hang in the
balance, and anxious partisans endure the agony of
suspense on confronting mountains, while the air resounded with the clash of arms, and blood gushed
from gaping wounds. Never to appearance were there
two men more unequaly matched. When the lines
of Israel opened, and a youth, a beardless lad, clad in
a shepherd's dress, with no weapon but a sling, and
no confidence but God in heaven, stepped forth to
measure his strength with the giant, loud laughed the
Philistine, and wit ran merrily through his countrymen's ranks. Ere one brief hour had run its course,




GOD GLORIFIED IN REDEMPTION.      169
they wept that laughed, and they laughed that wept.
He who guides the sun in his path in heaven, guided
the stone as, winged with death, and winged by prayer,
it shot from the whirling sling. It sung from the
shepherd's hand; sank into the giant's brow; he reels,
he staggers-and his armor making a mighty clashhe measures his long length upon the ground. Bounding like a young lion, David leaps upon his prey, and,
leaving a headless carcass to feed the vultures, he returns to the ranks of shouting countrymen-in this
hand, the giant's sword, in that other, his gory head.
Old men bless the lad, and young men envy him, and
happy mothers and laughing maidens sing his fame;
and ere that day's sun has set, there is music, and
dancing, and feasting in the homes of Israel.
That bright day was but the type of a brighter still,
on which God glorified himself, mortified and scattered
his enemies, and restored a fallen house to more than
its ancient honors. Man falls; the world is lost;
Satan triumphs. How does God pluck the victory
from his hands?  He might have discharged thunderbolts on his head; he might have overwhelmed this
enemy by sending down upon him legions of embattled angels. It is not so. He meets him, matches
him, masters him by a solitary Man. Beneath the
heel of a Man of sorrows he crushes the serpent's head.
A Son of man is the Saviour of man; a brother rises
up in our house to redeem his brethren; a Conqueror
appears in the conquered family. Out of the mouth
of a Suckling —by One nursed on a woman's bosom,
and carried in a woman's arms-he ordaineth strength.
Niever was the tide of battle so strangely, so completely, so triumphantly turned. The Babe of a cradle
8




170         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
wears the crown of the universe; and by One who
died, God destroys "death, and him that had the
power of death, that is, the devil."
" Give thanks then unto the Lord, for he is good;
for his mercy endureth for ever. Oh give thanks unto the God of Gods; for his mercy endureth for ever.
Oh give thanks unto the Lord of Lords; for his mercy
endureth for ever; who remembered us in our low
estate, and hath redeemed us from our enemies. Oh
give thanks unto the God of heaven, for his mercy
endureth for ever."




I will take you from among the heathen, and gather you out of all
countries, and bring you into your own land.-EZEKIEL xxxvi. 24.
MEN'S chief end is to glorify God; and God's chief
end is to glorify himself. While that is an end worthy
of the great Creator, it goes greatly to enlarge our interest in his works, and enhance their value in our
eyes. That end gives loftiness to the humblest of
them. When I know that for his own glory he paints
each flower, gives the fish its silver scales, and sends
forth the beetle armed in mail of gold, his creatures
rise in my esteem. It may look a sickly fancy, but
one almost feels reluctant to destroy the humblest
flower or insect, lest we should silence one of the ten
thousand voices which form the choir of nature, and
swell the praises of nature's God. Is there a child
whose heart does not warm towards him who praises
an earthly father, or speaks honorably of the good
man's memory? Now, the very same feeling inclines
a child of God to love all the works that do his Father honor; and of all men he cannot fail to enjoy the
most exquisite pleasure in the beauties of nature, who
carries to her fields a pious spirit, and sees his Father
mirrored in them all; hears his praise sung in the
voices of groves, or pealed in the roar of thunder.
Such was the spirit of one-a venerable patriarchwho shed on a very humble station the luster of bril




172         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
liant graces. When the storm sent others in haste t%
their homes, he was wont to leave his own, and to
stand with upturned face, raised eye, and with his
gray head uncovered, to watch the flash, and listen to
the music of the roaring thunder. How fine his reply
to those who expressed their wonder at his aspect and
attitude —" It's my Father's voice, and I like well to
hear it." What a sublime example of the perfect love
that casteth out fear! " Happy is that people that is
in such a case, yea happy is that people whose God is
the Lord."
Now, as it ennobles nature-so that the sun shines
more bright, and the flowers look more beautiful, and
there is a grander majesty in the rolling sea-when we
know that God does all things for his own glory, it
greatly enhances the preciousness of salvation to know,
that in the kingdom of grace also he has the same end
in view. If God saves-not because we deserve mercy-but that his own great mercy may be illustrated
in saving, ah! then there is hope. for me-Yes, although thou wert an adulterer, a thief, a murderer,
the vile wretch who spit in Jesus' face, the ruffian
who forced the thorny crown deep into his bleeding
brow, although thou wert that very soldier who
buried the lance in Jesus' side, and just returning
from Calvary, with the blood of Christ's heart red
on the spear head, I would stop thee in thy way
to say, there is hope for thee. Oh, this has inspired
with hope souls which had otherwise despaired, and
gilded the edges of guilt's darkest cloud. In circumstances where we would have been dumb-opening
not the mouth-when called to the dying bed of
vilest, lowest sin, it has unsealed our lips, and lent
wings to prayer. Of the preacher, whose walk lies




THE BENEFITS FLOWING FROM REDEMPTION. 173
among the most wretched, hopeless, and abandoned,
this truth says, since God saves for his own glory,
haste, "loose him, and let him go"-go to offer Christ
(as I do to-day) to the chief of sinners; like a
sunbeam  passing undefiled through the foulest atmosphere, go in thy heavenly purity where the basest of thy race is perishing, nor shrink from this
loathsome guilt, but with Jesus' pity and Jesus' tears,
lift up'her dying head, and in the mercy of God in
Christ, let her drink this wine of love out of its cup
of gold. If the worse a patient is, if the fiercer his
fever burns, if the deeper his wound has penetrated,
so much the greater is the glory of the physician
who cures him; then the worse a sinner is, the greater Christ's glory when he saves him. But for this,
that God in every case saves men, not out of regard
to their merit, but his own glory, what could sustain the faith of him who, in preaching the gospel
to unconverted men, has to run his horses on a rock,
and ploughs there with oxen; to sow. the seed of God's
blessed word under the most unfavorable circumstances; to write sermons for dead men, and preach them
to dry bones. Nothing but faith in this could carry
us to the top of Carmel, not seven, but seventy times
seven, to look out over the sea of God's mercy for the
cloud of blessing, and wait till it rise, and spread over
the heavens, and discharge its treasures on a barren
land. " Seeing we have this ministry we faint not."
Having already attempted to show how God glorifies himself in redemption, we shall now address ourselves to the subject-matter of the text, where we are
taught that redemption brings good to man as well as
glory to God. And it appears from the text



174         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
I. In carrying out the work of redemption, God
will call his people out of the world. "I will take you
from among the heathen."
By nature his people are no better than other people. They were no better till grace made them so.
The Apostle settles the point by the question, " Who
maketh thee to differ from another?" and the confession, " By the grace of God I am what I am." And
our Lord teaches the same doctrine in these brief but
expressive parables-" Two women are grinding at
the mill; one is taken, and another left."  "Two men
are in one field; the one is taken, and the other left."
" Two men are in one bed; one is taken, and another
left." Christ states the truth, and how often does Providence supply the commentary? Here are two children; they were born of one mother; nestled in one
bosom; rocked in one cradle; baptized in one font;
they were reared under the same roof; grew up under
the same training; sat under the same ministry; and
in death not divided, they are sleeping together in the
same grave. But the one is taken, and the other left.
This, a child of God, ascends to heaven; the other,
alas! is lost. Who dare challenge the justice of God?
Mysterious subject! He will have mercy on whom
he will have mercy. The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst
not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth; so is
every one that is born of the Spirit.
The truth is, that by nature this world is sunk in
sin, and all men are in a sense idolaters. In the days
of old, it is said that Egypt had more gods than men.
Elsewhere than in Egypt, every where, as the Bible
says, "there be lords many and gods many."  The
Hindoo reckons his divinities by thousand and tens oi




THE BENEFITS FLOWING FROM REDEMPTION. 175
thousands; but the world has a larger Pantheon-as
many gods as it has objects, be they innocent or
guilty, which usurp the place of Jehovah, and dethrone him in the creature's heart. Nor are men less
idolaters if drunkards, though they pour out no libation to Bacchus-the god of wine; nor less idolaters,
if impure, that they burn no incense at the shrine of
Venus; nor less idolaters, if lovers of wealth, that
they do not mold their gold into an image of Plutus,
and, giving a shrine to what lies hoarded in their
coffers, offer it their morning and evening prayers.
He has been an idolater, who, rebelling against Providence, follows the hearse of a coffined god; he made
an idol of wife or child; and now, when the robber
of our homes has stolen them away, and bears them
off to the grave, the feelings of that man's heart may
be expressed in Micah's complaint to the Danite robbers, " Ye have taken away my gods which I made,
and what have I more? and what is this that ye say
unto me, What aileth thee?" Since man, therefore, in
his natural state, is-although not in fact-in spirit as
much an idolater as the pagans of any heathen land,
may it not be justly said of all who have been converted by the grace of God, that he has "taken them
from among the heathen?"
II. The power of divine grace is strikingly displayed
in this effectual calling.
It is a remarkable fact, that while the baser metals
are often diffused through the body of the rocks, gold
and silver lie in veins-collected together in distinct
metallic masses. They are in the rocks, but not of
the rocks. Some believe that there was a time, long
gone by, when-like the other metals-these lay in




176         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
intimate union with the mass of rock, until, by virtue
of some mysterious electric agency, their scattered
atoms were put in motion, and, being made to pass
through the solid stone, were aggregated in those
shining veins, where they now lie to the miner's hand.
Gold and silver are the emblems of God's people.
And as by some power in nature God has separated
these emblems from the base and common earths,
even so by the power of his grace he will separate
ll his chosen from a reprobate and rejected world.
They shall come at his call; He will "say to the
north, Give up; and to the south, Keep not back;
bring my sons from afar, and my daughters from the
ends of the earth." The corruption of nature, circumstances of temptation, an evil world, the hostility
of hell, all interpose between his purpose and the objects of his mercy. The difficulties in the way tower
up into a mountain! Fear not. God will make up
the number of his chosen ones. "Who art thou, O
great mountain, before Zerubbabel thou shalt become
a plain."
His grace shall prove sufficient for the work. No
doubt it has a great work to do. Think from what an
abominable life and from what abandoned company
God calls some to grace on earth and glory in heaven.
Look at this Manasseh or at that Magdalene. I-ow
different their Sabbaths now from what once they
were! How different their society now from the associates with whom once, in mad and frantic dance, they
went whirling round the mouth of the burning pit!
Another, and another, and another plunge into the
abyss, and they drown the lost one's perishing cry in
louder music; and in giddier whirl they dance on, as
little deterred by the fate of their fellows, as the in



THE BENEFITS FLOWING FROM REDEMPTION. 177
sects that on an autumn evening dash one upon another into the flame of our candle. Ah, when God's
saints look down from their elevation into the depths
where grace descended and found them, and from
whence it raised them, they are not satisfied to sing,
"He raiseth up the poor out of the dust, and lifteth
up the beggar from the dung-hill, to set them among
princes, and to make them inherit the thrones of
glory;" they tune their harp-strings to a higher
strain. Lost in wonder, love, and praise, they are
ready to adopt the words which a humble-minded but
eminent Christian insisted should be engraved upon
her tombstone-" How great is thy mercy toward
me."  "Thou hast delivered my soul from the lowest
hell?" It is in a state of deep ungodliness-without
God, without the love of God, without the holiness
that shall see God, without true purity of heart or
peace of conscience-that grace finds all it saves.
Such is not the judgment of the world. And I do
not deny but that many are very lovely in the bloom
and beauty of natural virtue-so beautiful, that we
cannot help loving them. Is there sin in that? No;
for Jesus loved the young ruler who yet refused to
follow him. But then, with much that is attractive in
the graces of the natural man, they have the same
nature, and lie under the same condemnation, as a
world that liveth in wickedness, and lieth under sentence of death. An old writer has said that "man in
his natural state is half a devil and half a beast."
How wonderful the grace which changes such a
ronster into the image of God, and converts the
basest metal into the purest gold!
It is indeed amazing to see what grace will do, and
where grace will grow; in what unlikely places God
a*




178         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
has his people, and out of what unlikely circumstances
he calls them. I have seen a tree crowning the summit of a naked rock; and there it stood-in search of
food sending its roots out over the bare stone, and
down into every cranny —securely anchored by these
moorings to the stormy crag.  We have wondered
how it grew up there, amid such rough nursing, how
it could have survived many a wintry blast, and
where, indeed, it found food or footing. Yet, like
one familiar with hardship and adversities, it has
grown and lived; it has kept its feet when the pride
of the valley has bent to the storm; and, like brave
men, who think not of yielding, but nail their colors
to the mast, it has maintained its proud position, and
kept its green flag waving on nature's topmost battlements.
More wonderful than this, however, is it to see
where the grace of God will live and grow. Tender
exotic! plant brought from a more genial clime one
would suppose that it would require the kindliest
nursing and most propitious circumstances; yet look
here-A Daniel is bred for God, and for the bravest
services in his cause, in no pious home of Israel; he
grows in saintship amid the impurities and effeminacy
of a heathen palace. Paul was a persecutor, and is
called to be a preacher-was a murderer, and becomes a martyr; once, no pharisee so proud, now no
publican so humble. Like those fabled monsters,
which, sailing on broad and scaly wings, descended
on their helpless prey with streams of fire issuing
from their formidable mouths, he set off for Damascus,
" breathing out threatenings and slaughter against the
disciples of the Lord." Jesus descended in person to
meet this formidable persecutor, and selected him for




THE BENEFITS FLOWING FROM REDEMPTION. 179
his chiefest apostle. He bids him wash the blood of
Stephen from his hands, and go preach the gospel.
And where afterwards has this very man some of his
most devoted friends? where, but in Caesar's household. What can more strikingly express the power
of all-sufficient grace than the words of John Newton?
One asked him whether he thought the heathen could
be converted.  "I have never doubted," he said,
"that God could convert the heathen, since he converted me."
" Never despair" should be the motto of the Christian; and how should it keep hope alive under the
darkest and most desponding circumstances, to see
God calling grace out of the foulest sin? Look at
this cold creeping worm! Playful childhood shrinks
shuddering from its touch; yet a few weeks, and with
merry laugh and flying feet, that same childhood,
over flowery meadow is hunting an insect that never
lights upon the ground, but-flitting in painted beauty
from flower to flower-drinks nectar from their cups,
and sleeps the summer night away in the bosom of
their perfumes. If that is the same boy, this is no less
the self-same creature. Change most wonderful! yet
but a dull, earthly emblem of the divine transformation wrought on those, who are " transformed by the
renewing of their minds." Gracious, glorious change!
Have you felt it? May it be felt by all of us! You
have it here in this woman, who, grieved in her mind,
lies a-weeping at the feet of Jesus. She was a sinner.
Her condition had been the basest; her bread the bitterest; her company the worst. She is casting off her
vile, sinful slough. She leaves it. She rises a new
creature. The beauty of the Lord is on her; and
now, with wings of faith and love wide outspread, she




180         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
follows her Lord to heaven. How encouraging the
wonders of converting grace! Let us despair of none
-neither of ourselves nor any one else.
III. God will make up the number of his people.
"I will gather you out of all countries." There are
some gatherings in this world which are largely alloyed
with pain. Christmas or some birthday season comes
round, summoning the members of a scattered family.
The circle is again formed; but, like that of men who
have been standing under fire, and closing up their
ranks, how is it contracted from former years! There
are well-remembered faces, and voices, and forms, that
are missing here; and the family group, which looks
down from the picture, is larger than the living company met at table. Some are dead and gone-" Joseph
is not, and Simeon is not;" and a dark cloud hangs
on a mother's brow, for on the cheek of yet another
her anxious eye, quick to see, discovers an ominous
spot that threatens to " take Benjamin away."
There is a gathering, also, when, at the close of a
hard-fought day, the roll of the regiment is called, and
to familiar names there comes back no answer. I-Tow
small the band who meet at night compared with the
morning muster! As the day wore on, and the ranks
grew thinner, and the "red line" grew less and less,
they came back from each charge like a wave broken
on an iron shore, and every shock they stood, and
charge which they repelled, left broad gaps to fill.
And so, now when the fight is over, and the broken
hosts muster on the field, to many a gallant man in
vain the trumpet sounds, or war-pipe blows the gathering of the clan. Alas, for the day! They shall




TIHE BENEFITS FLOWING FROM REDEMPTION. 181
answer no trumpet but that which calls a world to
judgment.
When daylight breaks on the shore of the shipwreck, there is also a mustering and reckoning of
numbers. There, a mother clasps and kisses the living babe which the waves had plucked from her arms,
and she never thought more to see; and here, a true
brother cheers the boy whom he held in a grasp strong
as death, while, with the other hand buffeting the billows, he bore him safely to the beach. But others,
less fortunate, are wringing their hands in the wildness of their grief. Distracted mothers cry, " Where
is my child?"' Some, with the dead on their knees,
sit stunned by sorrow; frightful to look upon!
speechless, tearless, motionless, as if turned into
stone; while others, wild, raving, frantic, stand on
the shores of the devouring sea, and, stamping on its
sands, demand back their dead.
These are mournful musterings; and in striking
contrast to them is this gathering on Melita's shore:
It was a frightful storm; the coast unknown; the ship
grounds in deep water, with nigh three hundred souls
on board; the night before, the boats had been cut
adrift, and now not a boat-if boats could live in such
a swell-to save them. The swimmers, who strip and
plunge into the sea, may perchance reach the shore,
but none else shall cheat the deep of its prey. Yet,
when there is not another head among the billowswhen the last surviver has climbed the beach —they
muster; and soldiers, sailors, and prisoners-all are
there. Paul got their lives, and not one has gone
amissing. "Some on boards, and some on broken
pieces of the ship;" but, by whatever way it came to




182         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
pass, it did come to pass, as the narrative tells —
"they escaped all safe to land."
Even so shall it be with those of whom Jesus says,
"I give unto them eternal life, and they shall never
perish. My Father that gave them me is greater than
all, and no man is able to pluck them out of my
Father's hand." Happy those who sail in the ship,
and have embarked in the same cause with Christ.
What they have committed to him, he will keep until
the great day. And when all earthly schemes are
foundered, and life itself becomes a wreck-plunging
us amid the billows of eternity's shore-and this old
world itself is broken up like a worn out and stranded
ship-then, at the last day's muster, all who are
Christ's shall be there, not one of them shall be amissing; sooner or later, all shall reach the heavenly
coast. " The Lord knoweth them that are his;" and
" all that his Father hath given him he shall keep."
But my text tells us not only that He will gather
his people, but gather them " out of.all countries." Let
those mark that, who, indulging an extravagant patriotism, or in the narrow spirit of bigotry, allow themselves to " limit the Holy One of Israel," and are ready
to say with the Jews of old, "We are the people of
the Lord; the temple of the Lord are we." " We have
Abraham to our father." Alas! we are all too prone
to think that we stand allied to Jesus in closer relationship than others, even as Benjamin to Joseph;
others may be brothers, ours is a closer brotherhood;
we are not only father's but mother's sons. Now, we
are patriotic enough to hope much for our countryfor a land like ours, which has been crimsoned with
precious blood, consecrated by prayers, and whose
almost every mountain, as Rutherfurd said, "has been




THE BENEFITS FLOWING FROM REDEMPTION. 183
flowered with martyrs."  We sympathise, also, with
domestic affection; and the hope that families-so dear
to us as our own-shall rise from the place of many
graves to dwell together in the house of many mansions. Still, heaven, like the starry firmament which
encompasses our globe, is as near other countries as
our own. God has people where we look pot for them,
and know not of them. A hundred prophets are secreted in Obadiah's cave; and when Elijah, wrapped
in his mantle, stands before the God of the storm and
calm, and the "still small voice," complaining, "they
have slain thy prophets, and I, even I only am left,"
he is surprised to be told of seven thousand in Israel,
as true men as he, who have not bowed the knee to
Baal. We may be astonished to miss some in heaven
whom we calculated on meeting there, we shall be
astonished to see some there whom we never expected.
The gospel belongs to no country, but to all. Every
sea is not paved with pearl shells; nor does every
soil grow vines and palms, nor does. every mine sparkle
with gems, nor do the streams of every land roll
their waters over golden sands. These symbols of
grace have a narrow range; but not grace herself.
She owns no lines of latitude or longitude. All climates are one to her. She wears no party badge; and
belongs neither to class nor color. She takes no objection to a negro's skin. He, whom his white oppressor refused to worship with, eat with, sail with,
or dwell with on earth, shall dwell, and worship, and
reign where his master may never be; and whenas may often happen-the white skin is shut out,
and the black man, now and for ever free, passes in
at the celestial gate, it shall furnish but another illustration of the truth, that salvation is "not of blood,




184          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man,
but of God."
With this truth, as by a zone of love, elastic enough
to be stretched round the globe, we would bind mankind together. Let it awaken in Christian hearts an
interest and an affection for every land. Humanity
rejoices with piety in the prospects that it opens. The
distant natives of the Poles and Equator shall be associated in heaven; they who have never-met on earth
shall meet there; and they who never could agree on
earth shall agree there; the desire of our hearts shall
be accomplished there; and there those who, scowled
at by bigots, and pitied by many as amiable visionaries, have sought a closer union among God's children
here, shall have their fondest wishes gratified. From
the dreadful wars that now shake the earth, and the
hardly less painful battle-fields of churches, it is a
pleasant change to contemplate this general assembly,
where-Jesus himself presiding-the representatives
of all nations, tribes, languages, sects? and parties, are
met to sing the jubilee of universal peace, and celebrate the funeral of all their differences. Over that
grave no tears are shed; beside it no pale mourners
stand; all quarrels and controversies, with their weapons of war, are now for ever buried-buried without
fear of resurrection, and above it heaven rises, a temple
dedicated to eternal concord, "whose builder and maker
is God."
Dishonored often in the present time by their quarrels, and always by their separation, Jesus shall then
be glorified in all his saints. It is the dust and the
rust which the liquid mercury has contracted that impair the beauty of its luster, and prevent the union of
its divided globules. And what is it but earthly con



THE BENEFITS FLOWING FROM REDEMPTION. 185
taminations and unworthy passions that keep true
Christians apart. From these let them be purified by
the genial fires of love, or the sharp fires of suffering,
and union will follow-follow as when the purified
globules of quicksilver, brought into contact, run into
each other's embraces to form one shining and brilliant
mass. May God give his divine Spirit of love and
unity for such a blessed end-a consummation so devoutly to be wished for.  The prophecy fulfilled
which foretells such an union, then, the redeemed of
the cross, and elect of God, shall make up a countless
company, one which no man can number-multitudes
and myriads-offering such a contrast to the handful
who follow the steps of the Man of sorrows, that we
shall hear these words no more-" Ye are a little
flock."
" He cometh, he cometh to judge the earth;" and
how? after what manner? in what royal state? "Behold he cometh with clouds" —clouds, that on their
nearer approach to earth, when the general mass shall
resolve itself into individual objects, may be found to
consist of innumerable hosts of Winged and shining
angels. On that great occasion, the saints-countless
as the atoms that float in the vapors of the sky, or the
drops that fall in its showers-shall also form, to use
Paul's expression, " a cloud of witnesses." Already
they form a cloud in heaven; and to the eye of faith
it is as those nebulous spots, which, by their great distance, shine only with a faint luminosity far away in
the depths of the starry firmament, but which, under
the eye and instruments of the astronomer, are resolved into a countless aggregate of burning suns.
IV. We are assured that God will bring all his peo




186         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
pie to glory, by the fact that his own honor, as well
as their welfare, is concerned in the matter.
In that lay the salvation of ancient Israel. "How
long will this people provoke me? I will smite them
with the pestilence, and disinherit them; and I will
make of thee a greater nation and mightier than they."
Thus spake the Lord to Moses, and how did he reply?
He had certainly a great temptation to make no reply
and let things take their course, since the issue would
bring him and his such great advantage. Type of the
Saviour, he flung himself between justice and her
culprits. He ventures to remonstrate with God. He
sets himself to show, that the destruction of Israelalthough the just punishment of their sins-might
militate against God's declarative honor, and expose
it to suspicion; and that, therefore, although he could
not spare them for their sakes, he should spare them
for his own. Moses was concerned for the fate of his
countrymen. Like a true patriot, he declined to rise
on their ruins; but more deeply concerned still for the
honor of God, he takes courage to reply, " Then the
Egyptian shall hear it, and they will tell it to the inhabitants of this land. Now if thou shalt kill all this
people as one man, then the nations which have heard
of thee will speak, saying, Because the Lord was not
able to bring this people into the land which he sware
unto them, therefore he had slain them in the wilderness."
As it was then, so is it now. God's honor, and
truth, and covenant, are all concerned-are, so to
speak, compromised to make good the promise, that
he will bring his redeemed to glory. It is, indeed, no
easy work to bring believers safe to glory. When I
think of the sins to be forgiven, and the difficulties to




THE BENEFITS FLOWING FROM REDEMPTION. 187
be overcome, the wonder seems not that few get to
heaven, but that any get there. We have read of
voyages, where for nights the sailors enjoyed no sleep,
and for days saw no sun. Lying at one time becalmed beneath a fiery sky, at another time shivering
amid fields of ice; with sunken rocks around them,
and treacherous currents sweeping them on dangerous
reefs; exposed to sudden squalls, long, dark nights,
and fearful tempests, the wonder was that their battered ship ever reached the port. I select a case of
recent occurrence. Some while ago a vessel entered
one of our western harbors, and the town poured
out to see. Well they might. It had left the American shore with a large, able-bodied crew. They have
hardly lost sight of land when the pestilence boards
them; victim falls after victim; another and another
is committed to the deep, as from deck to deck, and
yard to yard she pursues her prey; nor does she
spread her wings to leave that ill-fated ship, till she
has left but two to work it over the broad waters of a
wintry sea. And when, with Providence at the helm,
these two men, worn by work and watching to ghastly skeletons, have brought their ship to land, and now
kiss once more wives and little ones they never
thought more to see, and step once more on a green
earth they never more hoped to touch, men run to see
the sight, and hear the adventures of a voyage brought
against such dreadful odds to such a happy issue.
Yet there is never a bark drops anchor in heaven,
nor a weary voyager steps out on its celestial strand,
but is a still greater wonder. Save for the assurance
that what God hathbegun He will finish-that what
concerns his people He will perfect-Oh, how often
would our hope of finalblessedness altogether expire.




188         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
WVell might David say, "I had fainted unless I had
believed." And knowing what we know, and feeling
what we feel, how entirely may we acquiesce in the
old remark, that the greatest wonder we shall see in
heaven, shall be to see ourselves there.
Yet let Christians take comfort. Your good and
God's glory ever run in the same direction. They are
the parallel rails on which the chariot of salvation
rolls. They shall bring you to the Jerusalem above.
To compare small things with great, our journey
there, with its dangers and changes, has sometimes
appeared to me like that of a passenger to our own
city. On these iron roads he now travels along rich
and fertile plains; now, at a dangerous and dizzy
height he flies across intervening valleys; now, he
rushes through a narrow gorge cut in the solid rock,
with nothing seen but heaven; now, boring into the
earth, he dashes into some gaping cavern, for a while
losing sight even of heaven itself, and then again he
sweeps forth and on in sunshine, till at length the
domes, and towers, and temples of the city burst on
his view. And, these close at hand, he concludes his
journey by passing through an emblem of death. IHe
enters a gloomy arch, advances in darkness through a
place of graves, and then, of a sudden, emerges into
day, to feast his eyes on the glorious scenery, and receive the congratulations of waiting friends, as he
finds himself safe "in the midst of the city."




Then will I sprinkle clean water upon you, and ye shall be clean: from
all your filthiness, and from all your idols, will I cleanse you.EZEKIEL XXXVi. 25.
IN the earliest peopled regions of the world, there
still stand some ancient monuments, bold in plan, and
colossal in dimensions, defying both time and change.
Raised, as these rude structures were, in the very infancy of art, and ere the giant arms of machinery had
grown into their present strength, they are objects of
deep interest, both to the architect and antiquary.
How came these great stones there? By what means
or machinery did man, in days so rude, raise such
ponderous masses?
Science has questions as inexplicable to put regarding the works of nature. We climb a mountain range,
and, standing on its apex, see valley and plain stretching far away to meet the ocean, that lies, gleaming,
like a silver border, on the dim and distant horizon.
After expatiating on the beauties of the scene around
us, our eye turns downwards, and lights on a very
extraordinary object-a shell-a plant-a zoophite,
whose proper habitat is the low sea-shore-or, lower
still, down in the dark depths of ocean-embedded
in the rock. How came it here? what business has
it here?  We find, in fact, that, although now raised
some thousand feet above the sea, the platform on
which we stand had once been an ocean's bed. And




190         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
he would be a stupid man, in whose mind the question would not rise, what agent, of tremendous power
was that, which, upheaving the crust of earth, has
turned the floor of a sea, where corals grew, and fish
swam, into a mountain crag whereon eagles build
their nests.
In the Providence which determines the lot of man,
history presents subjects not less interesting. It is a
curious thing how a sea shell came to be embedded
in the summit of a mountain crag. It is even a curious thing to watch the progress of a worm, as it
climbs up tree or wall to the place of its apparent
death and beautiful resurrection. It is still more interesting to see a man fighting, toiling, tearing his
way up from the bottom, to the sunny but often cold
and stormy pinnacles of society; so that, perhaps,
when dead, he, whose birth a cottage saw, lies in state
within a palace. There are all manner of ways by
which men rise in the world. Some, flung up by national convulsions, rise like the fire stones shot from
a volcano's mouth; they flare for a little, and then
are lost in night. Some, like sea-weed or an empty
shell, are thrown up by the wave of popular agitation,
only by its reflux to be swept back again into oblivion.
Some rise in times of trouble and of turmoil, like the
dust and light straws of the whirlwind; the lighter
they are the more sure are they to rise. Some ascend
by the foul and slippery path of crime, rising on other
men's shoulders, and building dishonest fortunes on
honest men's ruin. While some,-being amid all the
mysteries of Providence, witnesses that there is a just
God upon earth, —illustrate the adage of the world,
"Honesty is the best policy," and the still better
saying of Scripture, " Godliness is profitable unto all




MAN JUSTIFIED.             191
things, having promise of the life that now is, and of
that which is to come." But there is no rising so interesting to study, or by those who are fired with a
holy ambition, so blessed to emulate, as that of a
sinner into a saint-of a soul to glory. That man,
however, enjoys one of the charms of history, and
reads one of the strangest chapters in the book of
Providence, who traces the successive steps by which
great actors in the theatre of this world have mounted
to fame and fortune out of the deepest obscurity.
To us there are inquiries of greater interest than
any of these. Few rise from cottages to be kingsnor are such giddy elevations desirable; most men
fall and are crushed before they reach the top of their
ambition, and the few who have reached it have
learned that " uneasy lies the head that wears a crown."
It is of little moment to me, how this base-born but
brave peasant reached a throne; but to me it is every
thing to know how this sinner became a saint, and
fiom being the slave of Satan and very drudge of sin
rose to a crown in heaven-to be a king and priest to
God. If I am engrossed with the momentous interests of eternity, and have not yet made my calling
sure, but am still lying in the anxieties and darkness
of spiritual distress, it will be of little importance to
me, how the shell, which once lay in the depths of
ocean, has been raised into the light and regions of
the sunny air, but to me it is every thing to know,
how I, lying buried beneath the wrath of God, can be
raised to the sunshine of his peace and favor. To me
the question is of the highest importance, which the
elder put to John, when, pointing to the multitude
whom no man can number,' who stood before the
throne and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes,




192         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
and palms in their hands," he said, "who are these,
and whence came they?  I am deeply interested to
know by what means these, each one-originally like
myself-a being of sin and guilt, escaped the wrath
of God, and rose to such lofty favor?  Recognizing
in that company, one, and another, and yet anotherwho were the chief of sinners, I take heart to say, if
they got up there, why should not I? The door that
was wide enough and high enough for them, can not
be too strait or low for me. These questions, in other
words, how does God save the sinner? and what am
I to do to be saved?-questions, the most important
which you can ask, or I can attempt to answer, are
those at which, in the progress of these discourses, we
are now arrived.
I intend, God helping me, to set forth the means by
which He who is most willing to save sinners, accomcomplishes his generous and gracious purpose. I am
now to show you that famous breach by which the
soldiers of the cross, led on by their Captain, with
banners flying and sword in hand, have taken the
kingdom, and, trampling under foot the body of sin,
have entered into glory with holy violence. We are
now to look upon that famous ladder which the hand
of God has let down from heaven, and by which Abel,
and Adam, and Enoch, and Noah, and Abraham, and
Jacob, and Daniel, and Peter, and Paul, and the
Marys, and Dorcas, and Phoebe-martyrs and confessors, prophets and saints-pressing on each other's
heels, have scaled the walls of glory, and entered into
possession of the celestial city. And now, as the angel
who had blown the coal and baked the bread beside
the lonely sleeper-for such things angels will do for
saints-woke Elijah and said to him, "rise and eat;"




MAN JUSTIFIED.              193
with this ladder within your reach-you at its foot,
and heaven at its top-I say, rise and climb. What
meanest thou, O sleeper?   What do you sleeping
there? The slightest turn, and you roll over into the
pit, on whose dreadful edge sinners make their bed,
Rouse up, look up, rise and climb; God helping you
by faith, lay hold of Him who says —" I am the Way,
the Truth, and the Life."
In entering on the subject of a sinner's justification,
I remark —
I. God's people are not chosen because they are
holy.
They are chosen that they may become holy, not
because they have become so. It is after God elects
that God justifies, as it is after he has justified that he
sanctifies. This appears —stands out —most visibly
in the very terms of the text, " then will I sprinkle
clean water upon you." Do not, I pray you, suppose
that we disparage holiness. In the doctrines of grace
holiness holds a most important place; a place so important —so  prominent and conspicuous-that the
notion, once current, that the doctrine of a free salvation through the mercy of God and the merits of
Christ alone is unfavorable to the interests of morality,
can only be ascribed to the malice of the natural heart,
or the grossest ignorance. These doctrines set forth
the love of Christ as a believer's great motive power,
and it might be a sufficient refutation of the calumny
to quote the glowing exclamation of the poet" Thou bleeding Lamb 1
The best morality is love of Thee."
But what place in the scheme of grace do we assign
9




194         THE GOSPEL IN EZKKIEL.
to holiness? what language do we hold regarding
it? We say that without holiness no man shall see
God. Could more be asked or said than that? We
say so to all men-to the sovereign on his throne we
say, Without holiness thou shalt never wear a crown
in heaven; to the minister in his pulpit we say,
Without holiness thou shalt never minister before the
Throne-thou mayst save others, but shalt be thyself
a castaway; to the communicant at the Lord's table
we say, Without holiness thou shalt never sit at the
marriage supper of the Lamb; thou mayst drink of
the juice of the grape-but shalt never drink the new
wine of his " Father's kingdom;" we say to all, " If
any man have not the spirit of Christ, he is none of
his." You may have his name; but that is worth
nothing; unless with the name you have the nature
of Him who was holy, harmless, and undefiled. Grace
may make you his; but whatever you may become,
you are not so now, unless there be germinating in
you the mind of Him who was holiness in the fleshincarnate virtue. We ever echo the exhortation of
the Apostle, " Be careful to maintain good works."
This is surely no lax or immoral creed. So far
from holding good works cheap, we say that by them
God is glorified, by them faith is justified, and, by
them on the great day of judgment shall every man
be tried. You are not to be justified by your works,
but you are to be tried by them. The rule of that day
shall be this-" the tree is known by his fruit."
"Everytree which bringeth not forth good fruit is
hewn down and cast into the fire." Are any of you,
then, living in sin-known, habitual, cherished sin —
and yet in hope? Oh, how great is your mistake!
You may be saved from your sins, you cannot be




MAN JUSTIFIED.               195
saved in your sins. One sin, even one! is the "dead
fly, that maketh the apothecary's ointment to stink;"
is the leak, however small and concealed from the
public eye, which, if not stopped, fills and sinks the
ship. Men talk of poverty, misfortune, disease, bereavement, as evils! There is no radical evil in this
world but sin; if you still persist in calling other
things evils, remember sin is their mother-these her
hateful progeny. No sin, no suffering; no sin, no
sorrow; no sin, no sting, no death, no grave, no hell.
We change the saying of Paul, and, so changed, apply
to sins what he spoke of the sailors. He said of the
seamen, Except these abide in the ship ye cannot be
saved. To prevail on you to abandon and cast your
sins-these Jonahs-overboard, we say, If these abide
ye cannot be saved.
Now, while maintaining, to the utmost, that holiness is essential to salvation, we nevertheless regard
it as of the highest importance that holiness should
have a right and not a wrong place in our system.
Should earthquakes shake the ground, or even rude
storms the air, that pyramid must stand unsafely
which, according to the poet,
"Like an inverted cone,
Wants the proper base to stand upon."
That body would be a monster in nature, hideous of
aspect, and happily of brief existence, which should
have its organs and members so misplaced, that the
hands should occupy the place of the feet, and whose
heart should beat in the cavity of the brain. The
fruitfulness, beauty, the very life of a tree, depends
not only on its having roots and branches, but on
these members being placed in their natural order.




196         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
Let a tree be planted upside down-the roots in the
air and the branches in the earth-and I need not ask
how much fruit it would yield, nor how many seasons
the unhappy plant would survive such barbarous and
blundering treatment.
Well, if it be of such consequence in these things
not to depart from the order established in nature, it
is of no less consequence not to depart from the order
established in the kingdom  of grace?  It is not
enough that men hold right doctrines,-nay in a
sense hold all the doctrines. The right doctrines
must be, in the right places. Your astronomy may
include all the bodies that enter into our solar system,
but if it give a satellite the imperial position of the
sun, your system passes into inextricable confusion.
The machine may have all its parts, but, if the great
wheel that moves them, or the balance-wheel that
regulates them, revolve on any shaft but its own, the
entire mechanism stops, or flies round in furious and
destructive disorder. Even so, although all the doctrines of the gospel be present in our creed, we may
commit a great, a dangerous-possibly a fatal mistake
-by any mal-arrangement that would put these out
of their proper place. And such is their mistake who
build election upon holiness-not holiness upon election; who regard good works, not as the result, but
the cause of God's mercy; and who, mistaking the
root for the fruit, think that God adopts men because
they are holy; when, in point of fact, he makes them
holy, just because he has adopted them.
This, believe me, is not an example of the nice and
fine distinctions which theologians sometimes spin;
nor of the matters about which bigots may contend,
but good men need give themselves no trouble. Some




MAN JUSTIFIED.             197
small things have great effects. A slight wedge of
wood or small pebble lying upon the slip, prevents
the vessel from being launched on the bosom of a tide
that swells to receive her in its arms. The full tide
of love flows in Jesus' heart, his bosom is open to receive the sinner, every thing conspires to his salvation,
and yet in such happy circumstances, we have seen
the notion, that a man must be holy before he goes
to Christ, arrest a soul that had already moved, advanced, got some way in its course, and as we thought,
was off for heaven. This is a delusion of the enemy
of souls. I believe it to be a common wile of Satan.
When conscience gets so uneasy, that for all the devil's
rocking it won't sleep, and men grow anxious about
their eternal interests, and will be out of the " City
of Destruction," it is no uncommon thing with him to
send them away in a wrong direction. Would you
make yourselves more pure and more penitent, that
you may have some right to divine mercy? You are
trying to weave ropes of sand, and he who has set you
to a task so impracticable knows well that you will by
and bye abandon it in despair; and then, perhaps,
returning to your old favorite sins, like a drunkard
to his cup after a season of sobriety, you will furnish
another illustration of the saying-"' The last state of
that man is worse than the first."
With God's help I would endeavor to disabuse
your minds of such an error. For that purpose, let
me borrow an illustration from an asylum, which, in
the form of a ragged school, opens its loving arms to
the outcast, like the Gospel which it teaches, and seeks
to train up to God and glory the poor children whom
its piety and pity adopts. On entering these blessed
doors, —the gate of hope to many,-your attention is




198         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
caught by a child, who is supported there by the
bounty of some generous Christian. The boy now
can spell his way through a bible-once a sealed book
to him; he knows now, and, in tones fitted to melt
any heart, he sweetly-sings of a Saviour, of whom
once he knew not even the name. These little hands
are now skillful to weave the net or ply the shuttle,
which once were alert only to steal, or held out in
their pitiful emaciation to plead for charity; and there
is such sharp intelligence in that bright eye, and such
an open air of honesty in his beaming face, and such
attention to cleanliness appears in his dress and person,
and such buoyancy in his whole bearing, as if hope
hailed a brighter future for that poor child, that these
bespeak your favor. But do you conclude that they
were the child's passport to this asylum? Do you
suppose, that when he wandered, an outcast upon the
winter streets, shoeless among the snow, shivering in
the cold, it was what now so interests you that caught
the eye of pity, or that to these habits and accomplishments, learned under a parental roof, the child owed
his adoption? How great your mistake. This were,
indeed, to turn things upside down. He was adopted,
not for the sake of these, but notwithstanding the
want of them. It was the very want of them, which,
if I may so speak, carried his election. It was his
wretchedness that saved him. It was his very misery
-when he stood there with beggary on his back and
hunger in his looks, cold, naked, wicked, wretchedwhich pleaded for him, and, with more power than eloquence, melted men's hearts and gained his cause.
The clean hands, and rosy cheek, and lighted eye,
and decent habits, and arts and knowledge, and all
which now wins our regard are the consequences of




MAN JUSTIFIED.             199
his adoption, and never were nor could be its cause.
Even so is it with holy habits and a holy heart in the
matter of redemption"Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you,"
says God. Blessed truth! Glad tidings, indeed, to
sinners! for, since God chooses his people, not because
they are holy, but to make them so, who may not be
chosen? and who should not hope? To my eye hope,
in that truth, bends her bright bow on life's blackest
cloud, and sends a beam of light down into the guiltiest heart.
II. In redemption, the saved are not justified by
themselves, but by God.
This is no recondite truth-one which we need to
dig or dive for. The pearl lies in the dark depths of
the sea, but gold commonly lies near the surface of
the earth. Like the precious ore gleaming from the
naked rock, this truth shines on the face of my text;
a child's eye can catch it there, and a child's mind
comprehend it. For how is a sinner made clean? but
through the application of what is here called clean
water; and by whom, according to the text, is that,water applied? It is applied to the sinner, but not by
the sinner.
Elisha remained in his house, nor accompanied
Naaman to the banks of Jordan. Commanded by
the prophet to wash, and-when pride was ready to
revolt from so mean a remedy-persuaded by his
servants that it were a foolish thing not to try so small
a remedy for so great a cure, the Syrian descended
into the water; and, going down a leper, rose at the
seventh dip with a skin fresh as a new born child's.
A type of salvation in one respect, that case is not so




200         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
in another. It is not so in this, that Naaman bathed
himself;-the sinner does not. Here, as in the sacrament of baptism, there are two parties. The baptized
and the baptizer are not one. Whether that ordinance
be administered to infant or adult, the water is applied
by another's hand; and, as no man baptizes, so no
man saves himself, no man justifies himself, no man
ever sprinkled himself with that atoning blood, which
we shall show to be symbolized by this "clean water."
The bloody baptism is administered by the hand
which kindled the sun, stretched out the curtain of
the heavens, and sustains the universe. To God, as
Author and Finisher of our faith, the whole glory of
salvation belongs; for, observe how he says in my
text-" I will sprinkle clean water upon you, and ye
shall be clean."
Job inquires, " How should man be just with God?"
A great question —one in which we have the deepest
interest-one for which the Gospel was revealed, and
the cross of Calvary raised to answer-and one to
which our own merits and works furnish no satisfactory solution. It is natural, most natural, for us to
trust in these. I do not deny it. Observe what happens when the cry rises at sea-" A man overboard!"
You rush to the side of the vessel; you watch the
place where the rising air-bells and boiling deep tell
that he has gone down. After some moments of
breathless anxiety, you see his head emerge from the
wave. Now, that man is no swimmer-he has never
learned to breast the billows; yet, with the first breath
he draws, he begins to beat the water; with violent
efforts he attempts to, shake off the grasp of death, and,
by the play of limbs and arms, to keep his head from
sinking. His struggles may only exhaust his strength,




MAN JUSTIFIED.             201
and sink him all the sooner, nevertheless, that drowning wretch makes instinctive and convulsive efforts to
save himself. So, when first brought to feel that we
are perishing-when the horrible conviction rushes
into our mind that we are lost, and we feel ourselves
going down under a load of guilt into the depths of
wrath, our first effort, also, is to save ourselves. Like
a drowning man, who clutches at straws and twigs,
we seize on any thing, however worthless, that promises salvation.  Thus, alas! many toil and spend
weary, painful, unprofitable days in attempting to establish a righteousness of their own, and to find in the
deeds of the law protection from its curse.
There was a time, no doubt, when man had his
fortunes in his own hand; but that time is gone
-our power passed away with our purity. Impotence has followed the loss of innocence, and we have
nothing now left us but a wretched pride.  Amid
the changes which this world presents, I have seen
a man who had known better days-who had been
nursed in luxury, and reared in the lap of fullnessoutlive his fortune, and sink into the baseness and
meanness of the deepest poverty. It seems to be in
such circumstances with men as with plants. Naturalists say that it is much more difficult to get a
mountain plant to accommodate itself to a low locality,
than to get one, which by birth belongs to the valleys, to live and thrive at a lofty elevation. So, there
seems nothing more difficult to men than to descend
gracefully, and for those who have been accustomed
to a high position in society to reconcile themselves
to a humble one. And thus I have seen such an one
as I have described, when he had lost his wealth, retain in his vanity what he should first have parted
9*




202.THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
with, and continue proud even when he had become
poor. So is it with us in our low and lost estate.
Spiritually poor, we are spiritually proud-saying, " I
am rich and increased in goods, and have need of nothing," while we are "wretched, and miserable, and
poor, and blind, and naked." Even when we are in
some degree sensible of our poverty, and know we
can not pay, we are yet like the unjust steward,
ashamed to beg. With a pride that assorts ill with
the rags we wear, we will not stoop to stand at God's
door, poor mendicants, who ask for mercy. We will
work out our own salvation-nor be beholden to another. Nor, sometimes, if not always, till the sinner
learns, by prolonged and painful trials, that he can. not
be his own saviour, does this proud heart of ours allow us to stand suppliants at the gate of Mercy-our
plea for pardon not our own merits,-nothing, nothing
whatever but Jesus' merits and our own misery. Yet
thus and there we must stand if we would be saved.
Jesus is the Saviour of the lost, and of none but
the lost.
Now, to bring us down to this conviction, and to
draw from our lips the cry, " Lord save me, I perish,"
God in mercy often leaves those, whom he calls, to
try their hand at working out their own salvation,
and of the rubbish and untempered mortar of their
own works and vows to build up a righteousness of
their own. They toil and labor at the Babel tower
-a tower to reach to heaven. It rises imposingly.
It grows lofty, and looks strong; until some day,
conscience awakens, and there follows an earthquake
of the soul which shakes it to its foundation; or
some sudden gust of temptation strikes it, and lays
the labor of years in ruins upon the ground. This




MAN JUSTIFIED.              203
ruin proves their redemption: for-first step in a
right direction-they at least come to feel, that, notwithstanding their utmost efforts to live holily, holy
they are not.
God deals with them as Jesus did on Galilee with
Simon Peter.'Impetuous, self-satisfied, puffed up with
vanity, Peter will walk the sea to show off his power
and prove his superiority to the other disciples. His
Master lets him try it. Jesus bids him come; not
that he may drown Simon, but drown Simon's pride.
Boldly he ventures on the water. He begins to walk;
but, alarmed at his new position as he rises and falls
with the swell of the waves, he begins to fear, and,
like a cause which is lost for want of courage, he begins to sink-lower and lower still he sinks, till the
cold water rises to his heart, and kisses his drowning
lip. Painful but profitable lesson! His danger and
failure have taught him his weakness; terror masters
shame, and, stretching out his arms to Christ, he cries,
"Lord, save me, I perish." Now, to this state, and
this very confession, all who are to be saved must first
be brought. "I perish," is a saving word. " I perish," like the cry of the child in the natal chamber, is
the first utterance of a new existence. He who raises
his eyes to heaven to cry, "I perish," "Lord, save
me, I perish," has planted his foot on the first round
of the ladder that raises man from earth to heaven.
Have you got your foot there? from lips pale with
terror, have you ever cried " Lord, save me, I perish."
This confession and this petition will, sooner or
later, rise to God from every man, who, through the
influence of God's grace and spirit, is intelligently,
seriously, resolutely, bent on salvation. We say so,
because no man ever yet tried to live without sinning




204         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
and succeeded. Who that ever tried it has not failed?
Who has not found, that it were as easy for a man of
mortal mold and weight to walk the water, as to walk
this world one day without sin? Oh, has not He who
is angry with the wicked every day, reason to be
angry every day with the best of us?  "In many
things we offend."
Imagine not by your vows, and engagements, and
promises, and resolutions, to restrain the corruption of
your nature-to bind the limbs of "the old man."
That "old man," although old, is ever young. To
him age brings no infirmities. He grows in strength
with increase of years. Vulnerable to no weapon but
the " Sword of the Spirit," and, entrenched within
your heart, he is immortal till you pierce him there.
This terrible "old man" laughs at your strongest
bonds, and snaps them on his giant arms, as Samson
in the days of old the green withes of the Philistines.
Time is precious, and you waste it in attempting to
work out a righteousness of your own. In you I see
a negro, black and tawny, seated by a running stream,
a laughing stock to some, an object of pity to others,
who labors and toils to wash himself white, and remove the dark pigment of his skin. Rise up, throw
soap and nitre into the stream, and, turning your back
on these, go, seek the blood that cleanseth from all sin.
Are you engaged in the attempt to work out a righteousness of your own? Leave that loom. Are the
gossamer threads of your own vows and promises ever
snapping in your hand, and breaking at every throw
of the shuttle? The robe of righteousness, a raiment
meet for thy soul, and approved of by God, was never
woven there. It was wrought upon the cross; and,




MAN JUSTIFIED.             205
of color more enduring than Tyrian purple, it is dyed
red in the blood of Calvary.
Come away, and come to Jesus. Come as you are.
There is neither time nor need for delay. Imagine
not that you have to do what Joseph did before he
was ushered into Pharaoh's presence. The Hebrew
lies immured in a foul and lonely dungeon, when to
a thundering at the gate, and the cry of " a message
from the palace!" the ponderous bolts are drawn.
The door is thrown open, and, guided by the jailer,
the royal messengers hurry along the dreary passages
and enter Joseph's dungeon. Pale, sad, disconsolate,
far from his father and a father's love, a slave, a captive, neglected in dress and person, the Hebrew lies
before them. They strike the fetters from his limbs,
and hurry him off, for Pharaoh with royal impatience
frets and grieves till his dream is read; and yet, with
all their haste, Joseph is not ushered into the presence
of royalty till the marks of the prison are removed,
and in attire and appearance he is made like one who
is fit to walk the floor of a palace, and stand before a
king. We are told that "he shaved himself, and
changed his raiment, and came in unto Pharaoh.'"
I have to tell the sinner that, although he lies in a
deeper and darker dungeon, although he is covered
with fouler and filthier rags, and although the presence of Jesus is infinitely more august, and venerable,
and exalted, than that of any mortal king, he stands
in no need of preparatory holiness, of even one short
hour's delay. You have neither to change a rag, nor
remove a stain. tie is ready to receive you as you
are. Come then as you are. Here, this hour, the
bridegroom stands by the marriage altar. It is not




206         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
your wealth nor your beauty which has won his heart.
He loves you; he has shed his blood to wash you; at
great cost he has purchased the wedding garment, a
robe of righteousness, and the crown of glory. The romance which relates how a peasant maid was united
to a great prince, and the turn in fortune's wheel which
gave the honors of a queen to some female slave;
these but dimly shadow what thy fate might be.
Why, when Christ seeks you, should you hang back?
He is ready to espouse you to himself in the marriage
bonds of an eternal covenant-" The mountains shall
depart, and the hills be removed, but my kindness
shall not depart, neither shall the covenant of my
peace be removed, saith the Lord that hath mercy
on thee."




ailln Pttstifife
THROUGH THE RIGHTEOUSNESS OF JESUS CHRIST.
Then will I sprinkle clean water upon you, and ye shall be clean.
EZEKIEL xxxvi. 25.
THE dinner was to prepare, the rooms were to be
made ready, there were servants to direct, and guests
to accommodate; there was the character of the house
to maintain, and its whole machinery to keep oiled
and in good working order-with these things Martha
was busy. Not only busy, but, like many others, she
was so intently engrossed with household cares, that,
in a tone which had the sound of a gentle rebuke, our
Lord said, "Martha, thou art cumbered about many
things; but one thing is needful." That observation
applies as much to men as to women; more so, perhaps.
Furnished with clasping tendrils, and strong by the
attachments vhich they form, the woodbine and ivy
wind their arms round the tree, embrace it closely,
and rising to its lofty boughs, and clinging to its rough
bark, they give ornament and beauty-a vesture of
soft green spangled with flowers-in return for the
support they get. Like these, woman, with her strong
and warm   affections-gentle, loving, confiding-is
prone to attach herself to a nature stronger than her
own, and to lean on it for support. And, whether it
be that she is from this peculiar disposition less op



208          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
posed to the faith which looks to another's righteousness and leans on another's strength, certain it is there
is more religion among women than men. If, on account of the elevation and high position which it has
given her in Christian countries, woman owes most to
religion, religion in turn owes most to her. You tell
me that "by woman came sin?"   I know it; but I
set off this against the fact-by woman came the
Saviour. Jesus was a virgin's child. And, more
than that, in those days when he walked this world,
women were his trustiest, kindest friends. WThoever
betrayed, denied, deserted him-they never did. The
nearest to his cross, and earliest at his sepulcher, they
were faithful when others were faithless, and gave
early promise of that devotedness to his cause, which
their sex in all ages have honorably and pre-eminently
displayed. Go through our Christian households, and
I will venture to say, that you will find more women
than men, more wives than husbands, more sisters
than brothers, who are living under the influence of
religion. Many more children are to be found, who
refer their earliest, deepest religious impressions to a
mother's than to a father's piety.
But, be we men or women, " One thing is needful."
Yet how sad and strange it is, that this one needful
thing, which, for that very reason, should be the most,
is often the least sought after; which, for that very
reason, should be the first, is often the last sought
after; and sometimes, alas! never sought after at all.
It is the brightest feature in man's sad and sinful lot,
that while amid the business and anxieties, and toils,
and cares, and keen competitions of a world, which
has so many blanks and so few prizes, there is, after
all, but one thing needful. And especially blessed is




MAN JUSTIFIED.             209
it, that the only thing we really need is the only thing
we are sure to get. Sought in sincerity, it was nevel
sought in vain. Other gifts may be asked and re,
fused; but it is true of this as of nothing else what
ever, "Ask and ye shall receive, seek and ye shall
find, knock and it shall be opened to you."
Need I say that the one thing needful is salvationthat it must be that-can be nothing else than that
To a man, the conscious possessor of a never-dying
soul, who is burdened with a heavy load of guilt, and
who, in an eternity which he is nearing every hour,
descries a throne of rigid and righteous judgment, Oh,
what has this wide world to offer comparable to sal-.vation? What profit would it be to me, though I
gained it all, if I lost my soul-? All those other things
which we seek, all that we toil and travail for, all for
which we daily fret and vex ourselves, nay, all for
which some are fools enough to barter away their souls,
compared to this are but mere spangles and tinsel,
dross and dust-bubbles colored with rainbow hues
that break at a touch, and, bursting, smart the eyes
of the child who blows them.  When a man lies
stretched out on a bed of death, ah! he sees objects
then in their due proportions. From that point of
view the highest objects of earthly ambition, the loftiest
pinnacles of wealth, of power, of fame, dwindle down
into littleness, and look as far beneath salvation as the
loftiest Alp beneath the sun. Yet, strange to tell —
incredible, did we not know it to be true-many, as
if there was neither God in heaven, nor fire in hell,
nor soul in man, feel no anxiety about the matter.
They live and die like the beasts that perish. Is it
otherwise with you'? Anxious about what alone is
worth your anxiety, are you pressing on the preacher




210         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
the jailer's question, "Oh, sir, what shall I do to be
saved?"
That great question-the greatest of all questionsis one which admits of a very short and intelligible
answer. Capable of being much expanded, it can yet
be brought within a very narrow compass. The river,
which there flows between distant banks, and yonder
expands itself out into a lake, reflecting on its mirrorface the bright heavens above and the dark hills
around, is here brought-where its foaming waters
flash past, loud as thunder, and quick as lightning, or
creep sullenly along at the bottom of the deep,
dark gorge-within narrow bounds; bounds so narrow,
that with nerve enough, by one brave leap from rock
to rock, I could clear its breadth. Even so all the
wide expanse of doctrines to be believed, and duties
to be done, which might be expatiated over in reply to
the question, What shall I do to be saved? is contracted, compressed, comprehended in the Apostle's
brief speech, Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and
thou shalt be saved." Bring out from the dust of six
thousand years the old covenant of Eden, and on that
soiled and torn banner, you read the fading motto,
"Do and live." But what read we on the folds of this
banner, which, defiant of hell and the world, waves
above Calvary, and under which believers march to
crowns and victory? The eye of a sinner's hope
kindles at the sight of another and better motto; for
there, inscribed in the blood of Jesus, like red letters
on a snow-white ground, we read, "Believe and live."
Salvation is the one thing needful for man, and faith
is the one thing needful for salvation.
Like other things, however, that are one in the aggregate, this one thing consists of many parts. My




MAN JUSTIFIED.             211
hand, for instance, is one, yet it has five fingers. This
body is one, yet it has many organs. The Nile or
Ganges is one river, but one which is fed by many
tributaries, and disgorges its waters into the sea by
the channels of many mouths. A tree is one vegetable form, but one that has many roots below, and
many branches above; and even so, to leave the other
figures, and select the last, is that "Tree of Life,"
which has Christ for its root, and for its fruit holiness and heaven. I have seen a tree which, after
rising in a single stem, divided itself into two great
boughs, which, stretched out to the air and light, and
dews and heat, were afterwards divided and subdivided into innumerable branches. So with redemption. The subject presents itself to our eye under
two grand divisions. First, the remission or pardon
of sin; and secondly, the renovation of the soul.
While salvation is the one thing needful, the two things
needful to it are sin pardoned and the soul renewed.
For, suppose that your sins were pardoned, but that
your heart remained in its corruption, the door of
heaven remains shut; because, "Without holiness
no man shall see the Lord." Then, again, although
your hearts were renewed, unless your sins also were
pardoned, that door stands shut; because of the sentence, "The soul that sinneth shall die." The door
of heaven, like that of some treasure-chest or gate of
citadel, guarded with jealous care, is thus barred by
two strong bolts; " There shall in no wise enter into
it any thing that defileth, neither whatsoever worketh
abomination, or maketh a lie; but they which are
written in the Lamb's book of life." Both bolts must
be drawn before we can enter; we must be pardoned
as well as renewed, and renewed as well as pardoned.




212          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
Leaving the renovation of the soul to be afterwards
considered, I resume my observations on the pardon
of sin, and justification of the sinner, as expressed and
promised in these words: " I will sprinkle clean water
upon you, and ye shall be clean." Having endeavored
to prove, first, that God's people are not chosen because they are holy, but that they may become so;
and, secondly, that man does not justify himself, but
is justified by God, I now remarkIII. That we are not justified or cleansed from the
guilt of sin through the administration or efficacy ot
any outward ordinance. "I will sprinkle clean water
upon you, and you shall be clean."
Now, since the cleansing is accomplished through
the application of water-and water sprinkled-surely,
some may say, this refers to baptism. The element
used in that ordinance is water, and the common
method of using it is by sprinkling. And seeing that
God says, "I will sprinkle clean.water upon you, and
ye shall be clean;" and by that, certainly, means that
he will cleanse his people from sin; and seeing that
he thus appears to connect the forgiveness of sin with
the sprinkling of water, is there not something-if not
much-in these words, favorable to the views of those
who maintain that baptism, when duly administered,
removes original sin, and confers on its recipients the
grace of regeneration? No; nothing of the kind, as
we shall prove.
Three hundred years ago, our church, with an open
Bible on her banner, and this motto, "Search the
Scriptures," on its scroll, marched out from the gates
of Ronie. Did they come clean out of Babylon? Experience shows, that it is much easier to leave our




MAN JUSTIFIED.             213
mother country than drop our mother tongue. Across
the seas which they sail, and to the lands which they
settle on, the emigrants carry their prejudices, passions,
and even superstitions. They people the glens and
valleys of the new world with the fairies that dance
on the green, and the specters that walk by night
among the haunted ruins of the old country. So I
fear that, on departing from the Church of Rome, we
carried into our Protestantism-as was not unnatural
-some of her ancient superstitions; just as our fathers carried into their practice some of her intolerant
principles.'We can not approve of their intolerance, yet
it admits of an apology. They had been suckled by
the wolf, and it was no great wonder that, with the
milk of the wolf, they should have imbibed something
of her nature.
It is not the privilege and happiness of man to pass
through his changes like the Saviour. When Jesus
rose, a conqueror from the grave, he left the deadclothes behind him; but look at this apparition, from
which sisters and friends shrink back. Some scream
with terror, and all afraid to touch him, they leave
him to stand in the dark mouth of his grave, till the
word is given, " Loose him, and let him go." Lazarus
comes forth alive, but he is bound hand and foot; he
leaves the sepulcher, but with his grave-clothes on.
And prone,oas we of Scotland are, to boast that our
fathers, with Knox at their head, came forth from
Rome with less of her old superstitions about them
than most other churches, to what else than some
lingering remains of popery can we ascribe the extreme anxiety which some parents show to have baptism administered to a dying child? Does not this look




214          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
very like a rag of the old faith?  It smells of the
sepulcher.
Summoned once, and in haste, to the dying bed of
a mother, who was anxious to see her child baptized
ere she herself expired, I found that with her I could
sympathize. The last act of sinking life-the last
effort of her throbbing heart-was to give her infant
to God. With her dying arms she laid the new-born
lamb on the Shepherd's bosom, and as the babe slept,
unconscious of the affecting scene, it received a double
baptism. Ere the water was sprinkled by our hands
on its face, the mother had breathed her last. She
left the babe motherless, to be baptized by the water
that fell from our agitated hand and by the big bitter
tears that rolled down on its sweet face from a father's
cheeks. There was sorrow-bitter sorrow there; beside that dead mother deep solemnity, but no superstition; and if there was a mother's weakness in the
wish, it was one which we felt it no sin to sympathize
with and comply with. But sympathize with those
we can not, who, when death has stamped his seal on
an infant's brow, hurry off for a minister that he may
baptize the dying. I cannot believe that there is any
virtue in water to save its soul. I recoil with horror
from the thought that a God of mercy would suspend
its salvation on a mere outward ordinance. Is there
not reason to suspect that at the root of this anxious
and unnecessary haste, there lies some lurking feeling
that baptism-if not essential-is at least serviceable
to salvation, and has some connection, near or remote,
with regeneration and the remission of sins?
Now, with all respect and due regard to the feelings
of others, so far as they are conscientious, we can not
look upon such notions as else than the rags of an old




MAN JUSTIFIED.             215
superstition. We acknowledge no authority in these
matters but the word of God. And there I can see
no foundation for the idea, that baptism and salvation
-baptism and regeneration-are necessarily linked
together, or are in any respect inseparably connected.
Were it so, baptism were the highest, holiest ordinance
in the universe of God. Had it been so, it is not reasonable to suppose that our Lord would have left a
rite of such transcendent importance to be administered
in every case by inferiors-by the hands of his servants. Were baptism thus identified with regeneration and the "new creature," would the Apostle Paul,
who gloried in preaching, have spoken of it as an
inferior ordinance? He declared with manifest satisfaction that he had not been sent to baptize but to
preach; and, leaving the administration of the rite to
his inferiors, he even thanked God that he had baptized none of them. Then, do the cases, for instance,
of Simon Magus and the Ethiopian give any sanction
to this theory of baptismal power?. Assuredly not.
Look at Simon Magus! He was baptized by apostolic hands; and in his case the ordinance, beyond all
doubt and controversy, was duly administered. Does
his conduct warrant us to believe that his sins were
pardoned, or his heart renewed? By no means. On
the contrary, this man is declared, on apostolic authority-by the voice of Simon Peter himself, to be still,
although baptized by that Apostle's hands, "In the
gall of bitterness and the bond of iniquity." Shocked
to find a baptized man, offering with money to buy
the Holy Ghost, Peter, bursting with indignation, said,
" Thy money perish with thee, because thou hast
thought that the gift of God may be purchased with
money. Thou hast neither part nor lot in this matter;




216         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
for thy heart is not right in the sight of God. Repent,
therefore, of this thy wickedness, and pray God if
perhaps the thought of thine heart may be forgiver
thee, for I perceive that thou art in the gall of bitter
ness and the bond of iniquity." Surely it is much
more reasonable to believe that Simon Magus, al
though baptized, was not regenerated, than to believe
that an inspired Apostle would speak in such terms of
a regenerate man.  How could he be regenerate
when we hear heaven itself pronouncing him by the
lips of its messenger to be still " in the gall of bitterness and bond of iniquity."
Look next at the Ethiopian eunuch. Was he not
baptized and regenerate?  True; but observe that that
order should be reversed; he was regenerate and baptized-regenerate before he was baptized-not born
again in his baptism, but born again before it. Why
did Philip baptize him? He granted him baptism,
because he believed with all his heart. But can a
man believe till he is renewed!.In other words, can
a dead man move, or cry, or wish, or walk? This
stifled shriek, this awful sound within the coffin, these
struggles to force up the lid and thrbw off the cerements, prove that the dead has come to life —that he
has passed "from death to life." And did not the
Ethiopian give proof of spiritual life previous to his
baptism? Ere he had left the chariot, ere his feet
had been dipped in the stream, ere one drop of its
water had fallen on his bended head, the Spirit of the
living God had fallen on his heart. Hear the narrative:-" And, as they went on their way, they came
unto a certain water; and the eunuch said, See, here
is water; what doth hinder me to be baptized? and
Philip said, If thou believest with all thine heart, thou




MAN JUSTIFIED.             217
mayest." And he answered and said, "I believe that
Jesus Christ is the Son of God."  These cases are not
reconcilable with the notion that baptism has any
necessary connection with the forgiveness of sin, and
the renewing of the Holy Ghost. They prove that
baptism and regeneration do not, and can not stand to
each other in the relation of cause and effect. Otherwise, the case of the Ethiopian were an illustration of
what the world never saw-would be an example of
what were a contradiction and an absurdity-of something far more wonderful than a miracle-of such an
impossibility as a son older than his father, or as a
thunder-peal that preceded the flash in which it originated-of) in short, an effect in the order of time pre
ceding its own cause.
Besides, does not the sad and melancholy history,
alas! of thousands prove that the outward ordinance
is often administered without any corresponding administration of renewing grace? The altar and the
offering are there, but no fire descends from heaven
on the sacrifice. Grant that in our case, and in that
of any other such church as ours, the cause of the
failure is to be found in our lack of apostolic succession; grant that in our case the water, if not actually polluted by unconsecrated hands, is deprived of
all its virtue by the channel through which it flows;
grant that we have no commission to baptize, and
that therefore what we do in such holy officesis null
and void; grant the relevancy of all these allegations
(each and all of which we deny)-is it not an undeniable and melancholy fact, that the lives of persons in
all churches-even of the most transcendental in their
claims-demonstrate that many are baptized with
water who have never been baptized with the Holy




218          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
Ghost. The question, therefore, that we would urge
on your most serious consideration, does not concern
the sign, but the thing signified. If you have got the
living element, I care little, or, rather, nothing,
through what church, or by what channel it may
flow. Have you got the grace of God? In the
words of an apostle, "'Have ye received the Holy
Ghost?"
IV. We are justified, or cleansed from the guilt of
sin by the blood of Christ. "Without the shedding
of blood there is no remission;" and none we may
add, without its application.
WVhere do we find this doctrine in the text? By
what process of spiritual chemistry can this truth be
extracted from it?  There is water, and clean water,
and sprinkling of water, it may be said, but no word
of blood; there is neither sign nor spot of blood upon
the page.   True; so it looks at first sight; but
without the hand of Moses we shall see this water
turned into blood. It may appear difficult, without
Moses' rod, to repeat the miracle of Egypt; yet
this is plain, that here, as elsewhere, water is but the
sign of spiritual blessings. And a most expressive
symbol we shall find it, if we but think of the important part that this element plays in the economy
of nature. It covers more than two thirds of the entire globe; it is universally diffused through the ambient air; by the clouds it forms it tempers the
force of a fiery sun; it drapes the heavens with curtains of the most gorgeous colors, dyed in the rosy
tints of morn, or in evening's golden hues; and it fills
the floating reservoirs of the sky, to descend, when
burst by lightning, or breaking by their own weight, in




MAN JUSTIFIED.              219
refreshing showers on the thirsty ground. The circulation of water is to the world what that of blood is
to the body, and that of grace to the soul. It is its
life. VWithdraw it, and all that lives would die; forests, fields, beasts, man himself would die. This world
would become one vast grave. Water constitutes as
much the life as the beauty of the landscape. It is
true both in a spiritual and in an earthly sense, that
the world lives because heaven weeps over it. It was
Christ's choicest figure of himself, when, turning on his
own person the eyes of thousands, as on a perennial
fountain-one never sealed by winter's frost, nor dried
by summer suns-free, full, patent to all, he stood up
on the last and great day of the feast, and cried, "If
any man thirst, let him come unto me and drink."
And in case any of you should be thirsting for eternal
life, let me say, that thus Jesus now addresses us.
Would God, he were as precious to us as water in the
sight of him who is dying of thirst  With blood-shot
eyes, his throat black as coal, his tongue cleaving to
the roof of his mouth, the desert reeling round him,
Oh! what will the traveler not give for one cup of
water?  Fill it with water, he will give it back to
you filled, twice, ten times over with gold. Would
to God that our thirst for Jesus Christ were as ardent;
that in like manner He were all our salvation, and all
our desire.
The property of water, however, to which reference
is made here, is a different one from any of these. It
is not the property by which it sustains or revives
life, yet it is one for which this element is as well
known, and as universally used. All the world
wash with water, as well as drink water; and the
reference here is to that solvent power, by virtue of




220          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
which water dissolves impurities-turning white what
is black, and cleansing whatever is foul. It stands
here, therefore, the figure of that which cleanses.
The object to be cleansed is the soul; the defilement
to be cleansed away is sin; and we now, therefore,
address ourselves to the all-important question-Of
what is this water the figure? The key to the question lies in the epithet clean water. Let us analyse
this water. It is not water in the state in which it
descends from the skies, or flows in rivers, or may be
drawn from a common well; for, observe, it is not
said, then will I sprinkle water, but "clean water on
you, and ye shall be clean." The water is such as the
Jews understood by clean water-not free from impurity, and in itself clean, but water that maketh
clean-in the words of the ceremonial law, "water of
purifying." This was prepared according to a divinely
appointed ritual. Look how it was prepared, and you
shall see it reddening and changing into blood.
Gathering the lowing herds from their different pastures, they sought up and down among them, till a red
heifer was found-red from horn to hoof, and mottled
by no other color-one all red, and on whose free
neck yoke had never been. Separated from the herd,
she is led by priestly procession, accompanied by the
people outside the camp; and there, struck by a mortal blow, she falls under the hands of the priest. As
the blood gushes to the knife, he catches it in his
hand, and seven times casts it in a bloody shower towards the tabernacle. So soon as the victim is dead,
it is heaved on the burning pile, and, while the smoke
of the sacrifice floats.away to heaven, horn and hoof
skin, flesh, and bone, are all reduced to ashes. These
ashes, carefully collected, are mixed with pure water




MAN JUSTIFIED.             221
in a pure vessel-and that water is the clean water of
my text. See now how plainly-when understood
aright-this expression refers to a vicarious sacrifice,
and the merits of an atoning death. What was that
heifer? Spotless and separated from the herd, she is
a type of Iim who was without spot or blemish, holy,
harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners. With
neck on which yoke had never lain, she is a type of
Him, who said, " The prince of this world cometh,
and he hath nothing in me." Red in color, she is a
type of HIim, whose feet were dipped in the blood of
his enemies, and, as seen coming from Bozrah, was
"red in his apparel, traveling in the greatness of his
might." And what is this public procession, which
conducts the heifer without the camp, but a figure of
the march to Calvary? And what is her bloody
death, but a type of that which Jesus suffered amid
the agonies of the cross? And what are these fires
that burn so fiercely, and consume the victim, but a
faint image of the wrath of God, under which his soul
was " withered like grass?" And what was the water
mingled with this heifer's ashes, but a type of the
righteousness, which, imputed and applied to sinners,
makes sinners just? For, as the Jew on whom that
water was sprinkled became ceremonially clean, so
guilt of original and actual sin-all guilt is removed
from him (much the happier man) whom God sprin
kles with the blood of Calvary-and to whom sove
reign mercy imputes the merits of a Saviour's sacrifice.
Let me further illustrate this. There was another
method of preparing this crean water, which, although
in some respects different, was the same in this, that it
also implied the death of a vicarious sacrifice. The
leper, a mass of sores from crown to heel, a banished




222         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
man-banished from city, synagogue, the dwellings
of men, and the house of God-the victim of a loathsome disease, which made his presence an offense to
others, and his life a burden to himself, was a hideous,
doleful, revolting emblem of a sinner. Now let us
see how —when God was pleased to cure him-his
ceremonial uncleanness was, removed. On the happy
occasion, which was to restore him to the arms of his
wife, the sweet society of his children, the brotherhood
of men, and the presence of God-two living birds
were taken. They must be doves or turtles-the
gentlest of all God's creatures, and therefore the more
fitting emblems of his Son. They are held over a
vessel, already filled with running water. One is
slain. The blood, as it flows over the snowy plumage
of the fluttering bird, falls into the water; and that,
dyed by the crimson stream, now becomes " water of
purifying"-the clean water of the text. With this
sacred lavation the priest sprinkles the man who had
been a leper, and now ceremonially clean, that blessed
moment he is folded in the embrace of his wife;
kisses his children, and walks with them, a happy
man, at the head of a happy family, into the house of
God.
But there were two birds. We have seen one disposed of. What has become of the other? With
beating heart it is still a prisoner in the hands of the
priest; and the close of this ceremonial offers us a
beautiful and most vivid picture of the removal of
guilt. The living bird, type of a sinner to whom a
Saviour's merits are to be imputed, is dipped head, feet,
wings, and feathers-plunged overhead-into the
blood-dyed water. It is "baptized unto death." And,
brought out before the people-all crimsoned with




MAN JUSTIFIED.             223
blood-the priest opens his consecrated hand, and restores the captive to liberty. Image of a pardoned
one on his path to glory, it spreads out its wings, and,
beating the air with rapid and rejoicing strokes, flies
away to its forest or rocky home.
You will now understand the nature of this clean
water; and cannot fail, I think, to see, that although
clothed in a Jewish dress, justification by faith in the
righteousness of Jesus-that paramount article of our
creed which Luther called the test of a falling or
standing church-is the doctrine of my text. Thus
understood, my text sheds, we think, a valuable light
on one of the most prominent, and best known and
most important passages in the word of God. When
Nicodemus, not yet prepared to confess Christ before
the world, muffled himself up in his cloak, and, stealing forth under the cloud of night, sought an interview with our Lord, Jesus said to him-"-Except a
man be born again, he cannot see the Kingdom of
God," adding, by way of explanation, the no less
memorable words-" Except a man be born of water
and of the Spirit he cannot see the Kingdom of God."
Now, as commonly understood, these words refer only
to the renewing of the Holy Ghost. It is generally
thought that the water there is but an emblem of the
Spirit, and that our Lord just meant to say-" Except
a man's soul is purified by the Spirit's regenerating
influence, as his body is by water, he cannot be an
heir of grace and an heir of heaven.
We venture to think, that on that occasion, and in
these words, our Lord preached the Gospel more fully.
Turn the light of my text upon them, read them in
connection with it, understand by the water of Christ's
address the water of my text, and his language to




224         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
Nicodemus expands into a full Gospel. If the wate.
in his address meant only the Ioly Spirit, he told a
truth, but not the whole truth. Are not more than
regenerating influences needed, that a man may enter
the kingdom of heaven?  For that end, is not the
blood of the Saviour as necessary as the renewing of
the Holy Ghost? But let our Lord, in speaking to
Nicodemus-who as a Jew would at once catch the
allusion-have an eye to the clean water of the ceremonial law; let the water there refer, like the water
here, to an atoning sacrifice, and the Gospel in that
celebrated passage shines forth in its effulgent radiance.
Our Lord tells him what I preach, and pray you to
ponder on, that except you are washed in his blood,
as well as renewed by his Spirit, you cannot see the
Kingdom of God.
The doctrine of my text, and, indeed, of all Scripture is, that nothing saves but blood. In that, as in
other senses, "the life is in the blood." There may be
the sprinkling of water, but without the shedding and
sprinkling of blood, there is no remission-no remission, though the water fall from the holiest hand, and
be itself the purest that ever dripped from mossy well
or mountain spring. It is what came from the bosom
of the upper heavens, of which that visible firmament
is but the starry floor, that takes sin away. It is not
the tears that fall from weeping heavens, but those
that fell from Jesus' eyes; it is not the rain that drops
from dissolving clouds, but the blood that dropped
from a wounded Saviour; it is not what falls when
lightnings flash, and thunders roll along shaking skies,
but what fell when the sword of justice was flashed in
his dying eye, and the law pealed its loudest thunders
on his bleeding head-it is that which brings peace and




MAN JUSTIFIED.             225
pardon to the guilty soul, and fills to the brim this
crimson fountain, which is opened for all uncleanness.
"I," not my ordinances, not baptism, nor the supper, nor preaching, nor prayer, not these, but "I," says
Jesus, " am the way." Not a way, but the way. There
is but one way. Let me warn you, that although there
is but one way of getting to heaven, there are two
ways of missing it; and what-at first seems strangethese two ways go off in opposite directions; the one
to this side and the other to that. Yet, as one man
traveling due westward, and another due eastward,
at the same rate of so many miles a day, would meet
again face to face somewhere on the opposite side of
the globe, beneath our feet, the travelers by the two
opposite paths I speak of meet again-meet in perdition. This doctrine of salvation by the blood and
righteousness of Christ will-God blessing and enabling you to believe it-guard you against both errors-on this side against presumption, and on that
against despair. Some-and of these the Pharisee is
a type —believed that they are not sinners; or, if sinners, that God is not angry with them, and will not
punish them. What an exposure of the delusion is
that cross  The Son of God dies there. Unless he
dies, your sin is not forgiven. Others-and of these
Iscariot is the type-turning away from God, believe
that he is so angry with them that he will not pardon.
They look on God as a stern, austere, vindictive, and
implacable Divinity; in whom the hatred of sin, like a
roaring whirlpool, has swallowed up all other feelingsin whom the love, kindness, and pity of the Father is
lost in the sternness of the-Judge. And so —nor any
wonder when such is their belief —they shun God,
they hate God, they try to shut him out from their
10*




226         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
thoughts and wish -how vain the wish!-that there
were no God at all. But where, let me ask, do we
find this implacable God? If I ascend into heaven,
he is not there; there God sits enthroned, the father of a
happy family —like an effulgent sun, pouring gladness
and glory upon all. I return to this earth-go up and
down the world-seek him, but he is not here; I can
not find a trace or footprint of him here. I see God's
sun shining without distinction on the evil and the
good, and his rain falling with the same affluent abundance on the fields of the just and the unjust. Fields,
forests, mountains, smiling valleys, and sunny seas,
are not more full of creatures than of happiness; and
from the deep bass of ocean to the ringing carol of
the lark, nature forms one choir, and chants her hymns
to God. I open the Bible, but he is not here. Gift of
our heavenly Father, dying legacy of an incarnate
Son, revelation of a kind and winning Spirit! love
shines on thy every page, and in thy very name thy
loving mercy is proclaimed-Gospel, glad tidings, good
tidings, of good. Of this God, this appalling specter,
whom Despair eyes with a dark and horrid scowl,
Heaven says, he is not in me; Earth says, he is not in
me; the Bible says, he is not in me.
Where is he, then? With head averted, hair standingon end, and stony horror in her looks, Despair
points to the pit, saying-look there! What have
you to say to that? In the first place, I have certainly
not to say that that hell is but the dream which haunts
a guilty conscience-nor yet to deny that there is a
hell. No: nor, further, to conceal it although I could.
It were no kindness to spread a covering over the pit;
that is the cunning hunter's business; and the business of him who hunts the world for souls. It is an




MAN JUSTIFIED.             227
awful thought, that pit; it is an awful reality, that pit;
it is an awful abode, that pit; and this is an awful
declaration, " The wicked shall be cast into hell, and
all the nations that fear not God." But over against
these stern declarations, and between the pit and you,
a high red cross is standing. Mercy descends from
heaven, lights upon its summit, and preaches hope to
despair, pardon to guilt, salvation to the lost. Free
as the winds that fan her cheek, free as the sunbeams
that shine on her golden tresses, she invites all to
come, opens her arms to embrace the world, and in a
voice that rings like a silver trumpet, cries, " 0, Earth,
Earth, Earth, hear the word of the Lord." A beautiful
vision! Her eye, so pitiful, swims in tears as she
looks on poor sinners, and, not willing that any should
perish, she bids you read on that cross, where it is
written, not in letters of gold, but blood, this greatest
oath-these blessed words: —"As I live, saith the
Lord, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked."
As I live, says God, I have no pleasure in the death
of the wicked.  By my cross anid agony, by this
thorny crown and bloody tree, as I die, says Jesus, I
have no pleasure in the death of the wicked. Holy
Spirit  Dove of heaven! hovering over us, staying,
lingering, refusing to be driven away, thou sayest, as
I now plead, entreat, implore, "I have no pleasure in
the death of the wicked."




A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within
you; and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and
I will give you an heart of flesh.-EZEKIEL xxxvi. 26.
IT is a happy thing that baptism is not the door of
heaven;-happy for millions, who, dying in earliest
infancy, never pass that way. Dying unbaptized, we
hold that they die not on that account unsaved; for
whoever dare hang God's mercy on any outward rite,
we do not, and although we believe that this interesting ordinance is also, when engaged in with faith, an
eminently blessed one, we dare not. Thousands go
to heaven without baptism. Thousands, alas! perish
with it. Heaven is greatly made up of little children
-sweet buds that have never blown, or which death
has plucked from a mother's bosom to lay on his own
cold breast, just when they were expanding, flowerlike, from the sheath, and opening their engaging
beauties in the budding time and spring of life. "Of
such is the kingdom of heaven." How sweet these
words by the cradle of a dying infant! They fall
like balm drops on our bleeding heart, when we watch
the ebbing of that young life, as wave after wave
breaks feebler, and the sinking breath gets lower and
lower, till with a gentle sigh, and a passing quiver of
the lip, our child now leaves its body, lying like an
angel asleep, and ascends to the beatitudes of heaven
and the bosom of God. Indeed, it may be that God




MAN CONVERTED.              229
does with his heavenly garden as we do with our own
gardens. He may chiefly stock it from nurseries, and
select for transplanting what is yet in its young and
tender age-flowers before they have bloomed, and
trees ere they begin to bear.
In the words of the Westminster Catechism, "Baplism is a sacrament, wherein the washing with water
in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy
Ghost, doth signify and seal our ingrafting into Christ,
and partaking of the benefits of the covenant of grace,
and our engagement to be the Lord's." Baptism attaches us to the visible church; admits to that, and is its
door of entrance; but, while it unites to the body of
professing believers, it does not of necessity form any
living attachment between us and the Saviour. Let
us see what is done in these ordinances.
Years ago a man stood up in the house of God, and
in his arms there lay a sleeping child. Dipping his
-hand into a laver, the minister sprinkled some drops
on the infant's face, and over the unconscious creature
pronounced the names of Father, Son, and Holy
Ghost. That child was you. By hands, now moldering in the grave, your father then tied you-so to
speak-to Christ. Well, time rolls on, and infants
grow into children, children shoot up into youths, and
youths change into bearded men; and then there
comes another day. A table is spread in the house
of God. Like the shroud in which kind women
swathed his sacred body, a linen cloth covers the memorials of Christ's death. The broken body is uncovered, the commemoration begins; and, amid the
stillness of that solemn scene, with thoughtful coun.
tenance, a man leaves his seat, and taking the bread,
and raising the wine-cup in his hand, he dedicates him,




230         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
self to the Saviour. That man again is you. And
now awake, not asleep, conscious of what is done, not
passive but active now, with your own hands you
cast another knot upon the cord by which your father
years ago bound you to Jesus. You are now tieddoubly tied-yet it does not follow that you are yet
engrafted into him.
I have seen a branch tied to the bleeding tree, for
the purpose of being engrafted into its wounded body,
and that thus both might be one. Yet no incorporation had followed; there was no living union. Spring
came singing, and with her fingers opened all the
buds; and summer came, with her dewy nights and
sunny days, anid brought out all the flowers; and
brown autumn came to shake the trees and reap the
fields, and with dances and mirth to hold " harvest
home;" but that unhappy branch bore no fruit, nor
flower, nor even leaf. Just held on by dead clay and
rotting cords, it stuck to the living tree-a withered
and unsightly thing. So alas! is it with many; " having a name to live they are dead." They have no
faith; they want that bond of living union between
the graft and what it is grafted on-between the sinner
and the Saviour. And, therefore, in quitting this part
of our subject for another, let me ask, "believest
thou;" and if thou dost not, 0, let me urge you to
pray with the man in the Gospel, "Lord, help mine
unbelief?"
Do you say, I cannot believe? In one sense, that
is true; in another, it is not. It is not true in the
same sense as it is true-that a man who has no eyes
in his head-nothing but empty sockets-can not see.
All men are born with faith. Faith is as natural to a
man as grief, or love, or anger. One of the earliest




MAN CONVERTED.               231
flowers that springs up in the soul-it smiles on a
mother from her infant's cradle; and living on through
the rudest storms of life, it never dies till the hour of
death. On the face of a child which has been left for
a little time with strangers, and may be caressed with
their kisses, and courted with their smiles, and fondled,
and dandled in their arms, I have seen a cloud gathering, and growing darker, till at length it burst in cries
of terror and a shower of tears. The mother returns;
and when the babe holds out its little arms to her, I
see in these the arms of faith; and when, like a believer restored to the bosom of his God, it is nestling
in a mother's embrace, and the cloud passes from its
brow, and its tears are changed into smiles, and its
terror into calm serenity, we behold the principle of
faith in play. This is one of its earliest, and-so far
as nature is concerned-one of its most beautiful developments. So natural, indeed, is it for us to confide, and trust, and believe, that a child believes whatever it is told, until experience shakes its confidence
in human veracity. Its eye is caught by the beauty
of some flower, or it gazes up with wonder on the
starry heavens;-with that inquisitiveness which in
childhood, active as a bee, is ever on the wing, it is
curious to know who made them, and would believe
you if you said you made them yourself. Such is the
faith which nature gives it in a father, that it never
doubts his word. It believes all he says, and is content to believe where it is not able to comprehend.
For this, as well as other reasons, our Lord presented,
in a child, the living model of a Christian. He left
Abraham, father of the faithful, to his repose in
heaven; he left Samuel, undisturbed, to enjoy the
quiet rest of his grave; he allowed Moses and Elias,




232         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
after their brief visit, to return to the skies, and wing
their way back to glory. For a pattern of faith, he
took a boy from his mother's side, and, setting him
up, in his gentle, blushing, shrinking modesty, before
the great assembly, he said, " Whosoever shall not
receive the kingdom of God as a little child, shall in
no wise enter therein."
Paul said, " When I was a child I spake as a child,
I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put
away childish things;" but no man ever thought of
leaving the faith of childhood with its rattle and its.
toys. Faith is, in fact, the soul and life of friendship.
What is a friend, but one whom I can trust, one who,
I believe, will mingle his tears with mine, and whose
support I. reckon on when my back is at the wall?
Without faith in each other's friendship, kindness, and
honesty, this world would be turned into a Bedouin
desert; men would become Ishmaelites;-my hand
against every man, and every man's hand against me.
Faith is the marriage tie; the guardian angel of conjugal felicity; the jeweled zone that binds society
together; the power, mightier than steam, or wind, or
water, that moves all the wheels of commerce. Unless
man could trust his fellow-man, business would come
to a dead stand; the whole machinery of the world
would stop; our busy streets would bear crops of
grass; and, though winds blew and tides flowed as before, rotting ships would fall to pieces in our silent
and deserted harbors.
Leaving the busy city for rural scenes, or setting
your foot on board ship, and pushing out upon the
heaving ocean, you find faith ploughing the fields of
both-faith in the laws of nature, in the ordinances of
Providence. When the air has still a frosty breathe




MAN CONVERTED.               233
and, although cleared of winter snow, the earth is cold
and-looks dead as a corpse disrobed of its shroudit shows neither flower nor leaf, nor sign of life, the
husbandman, notwithstanding, yokes his team and
drives the ploughshare through its breasts. With
confidence in his step, liberality in his hand, and hope
in his eye, he scatters the seed far and wide on'the
bosom of the ground. He is a believer; a believer in
Providence —in the laws and procession of the seasons.
He has faith; not saving faith indeed, but still true
faith. Ie believes that out of these frosty skies gentle
zephyrs shall blow, and soft showers shall fall, and
summer beams shall shine; and, looking along the
vista of time, he sees golden corn waving thick upon
these empty fields, and hears in this silent scene the joy
of light hearts ringing in the laugh and song of the
reapers. His ploughing and his sowing are acts of
genuine faith; and, as he strides across the field with
his sowing sheet around him, he is an example of one,
who, with his eye, as well as his foot, on earth,
"Walks by faith, not by sight."
Then again, sailing as much as sowing is an act of
faith. In this rough and weather-beaten mariner, on
board whose ship we are dashing through the thick
gloom of a starless night, and over the waves of a
pathless ocean, I see faith standing at the helm.
That man has faith in the needle; and believing that
the heart of an angel is not more true to God than
this needle to the north, he presses forward over the
watery waste in a voyage, that may with perfect truth
be called a voyage of faith. Would to God we had
as strong a faith in our Bible! Would to God that
our trembling hearts pointed as true to Jesus, as his
needle in all weathers, and on all seas, to the distant




234         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
pole! What we want divine grace to do, is not so
much to give us faith, as to give to the principle or
faculty of faith, which we have by nature, a right,
holy, heavenward direction; to convert it into faith
in things eternal. The faith that sees an unseen
world-a faith just as strong in the revelations of the
Bible as in the ordinary laws of nature, this is what
we need. Let it be sought in earnest, persevering
prayer. It is "the gift of God." Saving faith has
God for its author, the Spirit for its agent, Christ for
its object, grace for its root, holiness for its fruit, and
heaven for its reward. Accepting the righteousness
of Christ, it makes us just; and seeing every sin pardoned, all guilt removed, God smiling, and heaven
opening to receive us, it is the spring of a peace of
mind which is worth more than the wealth of worlds,
which passeth all understanding. May God help us
to the confession and the prayer, "Lord I believe,
help thou mine unbelief."
We have already stated that while salvation was
the one thing needful, there were two things needful
for salvation. Having considered the first of these,
namely, the remission of sin and justification of the
sinner, we now enter on the second, namely, the renovation of the soul as enunciated in the words, "A
new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I
put within you, and I will take away the stony heart
out of your flesh, and I will give you a heart of flesh."
And we remarkI. This is a great change. Not that all men think
so. Once on a time, for instance, we wandered into a
church in this city. The preacher read these words
for his text, "Except a man be born again, he can not




MAN CONVERTED.              235
see the kingdom of God." And just as at the fords
of Jordan, they knew a man's country by the way he
sounded Shibboleth, so you will never fail to know a
man's creed by the way in which he handles such a
passage as that. The preacher read his text; and
then, as it were, sat down by the cradle, where his
charge was sleeping, to rock them over into a deeper
slumber. The text, forsooth, was an oriental figure 
a hyperbole! pointing to an outward change. No
more was needed. In the strong and highly figurative language which eastern nations indulge in, it
described the change undergone by the man who
abandons a wild and wicked life for habits of decency,
honesty, and temperance. Far be it from me to speak
lightly of temperance societies, or of any scheme, indeed, that aims at the dignity and elevation of man;
yet, according to the preacher, our Lord's language
meant nothing more than the change which these institutions are of themselves able to accomplish-a
change of habits without any gracious change of
heart. Did a drunkard become sober? he was born
again; a libertine pure? or thief honest? or liar true?
he was born again! In short, such was the style and
character of the discourse, that if a poor, hungry soul
had gone there for bread, he could have got nothingcarried away nothing-but a stone; and instead of a
fish, we saw the serpent's coil, and heard her hiss. The
preacher taught that these words were applicable only
to the scum and off-scourings of the city-the dregs of
society-those poor, depraved, degraded creatures, who,
weighed down by a load of poverty and ignorance,
and guilt, have sunk to the bottom, and to our shame,
are left to lie there in distressing and dreadful pollution. So far as any congregation of decent, well



286         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
dressed, sober, honest, reputable professors of religion
were concerned, that truth had no bearing on them;
our Lord-although he assuredly found in Nicodemus
one of this class-did not speak of them; they, happy
mortals! had no need to be born again.
You cannot fancy any two things more opposed to
each other than that doctrine and ours. We believe
that the purest, gentlest, loveliest, most amiable creature that blesses fond parents, and adorns earth's
happiest home-one of nature's fairest flowers-stands
as much in need of a new birth as the vilest outcast
who walks these streets-the lost one, whose name is
never mentioned but by broken hearts and in wrestling prayers to God. The best of mankind are so bad
that all have need to be born again; so bad, that the
change promised in the text, and insisted on by our
Saviour, can not be a surface or superficial matter —
any mere defilement of the skin which nitre and soap
may remove. Words have no meaning unless this
change is a radical reform-a change great in its character, and lasting in its consequences-a change,
which, affecting not the habits only, but the heart,
both reaches downward into the deepest recesses of
the soul, and stretches forward into the ages of
eternity.
Now, I am afraid that some-dreaming, as they
slumber, that they have been born again, and so are
safe, because their conduct is changed, and because,
so far as their mere habits are concerned, they are
better than once they were-have gone to sleep before
this work is even begun. Beware of rash conclusions
of such momentous importance. Have we not seen
passions, like the fire upon the hearth, burn out and
die for want of fuel? Have we not seen the course




MAN CONVERTED.              237
of vice, like a worn out machine, stop from the decays
of nature-from the mere wear and tear of its materials. Virtue is cheap; vice is costly; and, proving
a heavy tax upon the purse, destructive of health, and
damaging to character, we have seen self-interest turn
a man from the indulgence of his strongest vices.
Old age cools hot blood. Successive bereavements
will in a way break the heart, and some deep disappointment may wean those, who have the keenest appetite for its pleasures, from the gayeties and vanities
of the world. And, as in IRoman Catholic countries,
many a cowled monk, and many a veiled nun, enters
convent or monastery more from feelings of disappointment than devotion; so, when hopes are blasted,
and pride is mortified, and ambition has missed her
mark, you may get sick of the world. Alas! all who
bid adieu to the ball-room and theater, and giddy
round of fashion, do not leave the circle of their enchantments for the closet, for the sanctuary, for fields
of Christian benevolence. As by sleight of hand and
necromantic trick, Egypt's magicians produced a set
of mimic miracles, that were clever counterfeits of
those which God wrought by the hand of Moses, may
not other causes than true love of holiness or godly
hatred of sin work such an outward, as bears some
considerable likeness to a saving change? In matters
of religion, beware of confounding an almost with an
altogether Christian. So far as it goes, any change for
the better is good.. We hail it with hope. It is good
so far as it goes, and good so long as it lasts; but Oh,
let us not fall into the fatal mistake of confounding
an outward reformation with that divine, inward,
eternal transformation which is wrought by the Spirit,




238         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
and promised in the words, " A new heart also will I
give you."
Leaving the nature of this change to be afterwards
considered, let me attempt meanwhile to show that
this is a great change. In illustration of the truth,
look, I pray you, to the symbols under which it is
presented in the WSord of God.
It is a birth.
When an infant leaves the womb-that darksome
dwelling, where it has passed the first stage of its
existence,-although the same creature, it may be said
to be a new creature, and to enter on a new being.
How great the change from that living sepulcher,
where it lay entombed,. nor saw, nor heard, nor
breathed, nor loved, nor feared, nor took any more interest than the dead in all that was happening around
itI Alive, yet how like death its state has been.
Having eyes, it saw not, and ears it heard not, and
feet it walked not, and hands it handled not, and affections it felt not. Its state was a strange and mysterious mingling of the characters of life and death.
When the windows of its senses are thrown open, and
streams of knowledge come rushing in on its young
and wondering soul, and its eyes follow the light, and
with its restless hands it is acquainting itself with
matter, and sounds are entering its ears, amid whose
mingled din it soon learns to distinguish the sweet
tones of one tender voice-its mother's, and it loves,
and is loved, and lies nestling in dreamy slumbers on
her bosom, or sweetly smiles in her smiling face-how
great the change! Now, just because the change
wrought on the soul in conversion is also great, and
introduces its subject into a new and delightful existence, it borrows a name from that change. That is




MAN CONVERTED.              239
the first, this is the second birth; aye, and infinitely
the better of the two. Better! because in that a son
of man is born but for the grave, whereas in this a
son of God, is born for glory. Better! because the
march of these little feet is along a rough path between a cradle and a coffin; whereas, the way of
grace, however full of trials, toil, and battle, is from
the pangs of birth onward and upward to a crown in
heaven. Happy for you if you are heaven-born and
heaven-bound. It may be that a stormy life lies before you; but let storms rage and tempests roarhowever rude the gale or high the rolling billows-a
heaven-born passenger in a heaven-bound bark, you
cannot miss the haven.   There remaineth a rest to
the people of God."
This change is a resurrection. A resurrection is a
great change. Go to the churchyard. Go where death
shall one day carry you, whether you will or not.
"Come," said the angels, "see the place- where the
Lord lay." Come, let us see the place where we ourselves shall lie, and look at man as we ourselves shall
be. Take him in any of his stages of decay. Look
at this compressed line of mold, that by its color
marks itself out as different from the neighboring
clay; it is black earth, and retains no apparent vestige of organization. What resemblance does it beal
to a man? None. Yet gather it together and give
it to the chemist; he analyzes it, and pronounces this
unctuous dust to have been once a human creature.
It may have been a beauty, who with alarm saw the
roses fading on her cheek, and age tracing wrinkles
on her ivory brow, and mixing in gray hairs with her
raven locks. It may have been a beggar, who, tired
of his cold and hungry pilgrimage, laid his head gladly




240          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
in the lap of mother earth, and ended his weary wanderings here. It may have been a king, who was
dragged from amid his guards to the tomb, and sullenly yielded to the sway of a monarch mightier than
himself. Or, look here at these yellow relics of mortality which the grave-digger-familiar with his trade
— treats with such irreverent contempt. Look at these
preachers of humility-at this moldering skull, the
deserted palace of a soul, within which high intellect
once sat enthroned-at those fleshless cheeks, once
blooming with smiles and roses-at that skeleton hand,
which may once have grasped the helm of public
affairs, or swayed the passions of capricious multitudes, or held up the cross from sacred pulpits to the
eyes of dying men-at those moldering limbs, which
piety may have bent to God-and at these hollow
sockets-now the nest of slimy worms-where glances
of love have melted, and looks of fire have flashed.
Turning away your head with horror and humiliation, to think that you shall lie where they are-and be
as they are-you say, Alas! what a change is there!
Ah! but Faith steps forward, plants a triumphant
foot on the black grave's edge, and silencing my
fears, dispelling my gloom, and reconciling me to that
lowly bed, she lifts her cheerful voice, and exclaims,
True! but what a change shall be there! Looking
through her eyes, I see the spell broken. I see that
dust once more animate. And when the blast of the
trumpet-penetrating the caves of the rocks, and felt
down in the depths of ocean-pierces the ear of death
in this dark, and cold, and lonely bed, where I have
lowered a coffin, and left the dear form and sweet face
of some loved one, mortality shall rise in form immortal, more beautiful than love ever fancied, or poet




MAN CONVERTED.               241
sang. How great the change, when these moldering
bones, which children look at with fear, and grown
men with solemn sadness, shall rise instinct with life!
Think of this handful of brown dust springing up into
a form like that on which Adam gazed with mute
astonishment, when for the first time he caught the
image of himself mirrored in a glassy pool of Paradise; or better still, in a form such as, when awakening from his slumber, he saw with wondering, admiring eyes, in the lovely woman that lay by his side on
their bed of love and flowers. And now, because the
change which conversion works on the soul is also
inexpressibly great, it borrows a name from that
mighty change; that, a resurrection of the body from
the grave, this, a resurrection of the soul from sin.
In this " we pass from death to life"-in this we are
" created anew in Jesus Christ."  "WV e rise with
Him," says the Apostle,  to newness of life."
The greatness of the change is set forth in the symbolical representation of it in the next chapter. Seized by
the hand of the Spirit, Ezekiel is borne aloft, carried
away through the air, and set down in a lonely valley
among the hills of a distant land. This valley seems
to have been, at some former period, the scene of a
great battle. There hosts had sustained the charge of
hosts, and crowns were perhaps staked and won. The
peace of these solitudes had been rudely broken by
the shrieks of the wounded, the wild shouts of the
victors, the clash of arms, and the savage roar of battle. It was silent now. The tide that swept over it
had left it strewed with wrecks; the dead had moldered unburied where they fell; the skull rattled in the
cloven helmet; the sword of the warrior lay rusting
beside his skeleton, and the handle was still in the
11




.242         THE' GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL..relaxed grasp of the bohy fingers. On these unburi'ed
corpses the "birds of the air had'summered," and'the
wild beasts of the field had wintered."  The rain had
washed, and the sun had bleached them;- they' were
white-and dry. In these grim'aid ghasty'skeletons
a doleful picture of death lay'stretched out before the
prophet; and while he surveyed the scene, there was
neither sign nor sound of life, but, it' may' be, the
croak of the raven, or the howl of the famished wolf,.or the echo of his own solitary footfall. Such was the
scene Ezekiel was contemplating when a voice made
*him;start.-: It came from the skies, charged with this
gtrange,question, t So'n: of man, can these bones
live-?":..:We stay, not to relate all that happened and was'done. It iserves orur purpose to say, that after the
~ prophet'had preached' t thelbonies', he prayed tf Him
who-to dead' bories, de'ad bodies, dead' hearts, dead
soulis, deade' famrilies, and d'ead' ch urches-is''the'Resudrretion and';the' Life."':E~ekieI's w'as the prayer of
faith..-ancd iit had its answer."-; How -endcouraging to u's,
Wheln on' our knees; 1ithatanswer -'' Ve fe.l a s if'Aaron
an'd' Hui sat' at' our side;' and held'up o'ur' wearyi arms.
Ezekiel,;after l'preaching, prayed;'and'there came from
heaven" a living and' lihfe-giVi'g breati. It' low 1s down
the valley  and' asit kisse'' th'e icy: ips'of'the dead,
ancd" strs, their " nhai,;n  ans'' ther' faneir  ces, man after
man'spritngs' to -his!feet, till the'  field which'Ezekiel
fouh' oeovered with ghastly skeletons is crowded with
a fiiight':'arimyall' rmed for' balile and' war —the
m'rshaied hOst' f God.''      ".','That',wai' as -great change,'and' not less''great the
twok obf'graer;  cn cvirsio  While fi prophet is
gazing wi th' —a'stdniShea "ie'on'dthis martiai array,




:-MAX OQNVYRTRD.;              243
w.here, amid trumpet; echoes,, spears.are gleaming,,.,nd plumes. are dancing, as, bold in.aspect and stout
for war, the serried ranks march o0n,,mark what the
iLord said:-" Son of man.,:these bonies are the whole.house, of; Israel;. behold- -they sayi; Our bones are
4rijed, and.;our hope. isi lost."  Now, is not this.the,very judgmen:t.-r-the tery sentence-iv:hich th~e sinner
often pronounces on his:owjn chse. when:j his eyes are
-first ovpened, and he sees. himself lost.and undqne?,What is the house. of Israel:here but a type;of. God.s
chbsen peoplie?, InIsrael we see: our state by nature:;
a state of death; a state in. which we are."" dead in
itrespasses and sins". Ohn this,- account- Satan:wduld
have usr yield to: Adespair.;:He says that forsuch. sin-.ners, tberelis no[ help-no'hope. It. is he who.speals
in the complaiht, "Our,; bones are. dried, and our hope
jislost."  Yes, it is he, the father.-ofdies, th  enemy;cif.soiils. Yield not- evren to,a doubt, for here,' he. that
dbubteth is damned;" but mark' God's gracious- an swer
to.'that.unlbelieving,.dark; desponding complaint-;
l':Thas saith the Lord God;.behold, O     my; pe6ple, I
will open, your graves, and  v will: put my spirit within.you, and ye shal; liye.".':.;.......Hereafter.we will enter particularly into the nature:of. this' great change;; meanwhile,; ilet, me- ask, Have.you any. experience of..it!?;:  I n'either ask- wheri,.nor
where, nor how   yo.u felt;its fir't dmpressions. On
these subjects the experience of saints is.very different.
Some aian tell'the time of it - giving day and; d te, the:hour,'the providence, the place, the text, the. preacher,
_and, all.the cir6umstances'wassociated witth.their con-'Version.  They can show the.arrow,.,which, shot fron
Some bow.drawn at a; venturei pierced the, joints of
fheir. armor, agd quiyered, in-their Jieart..They  ai




244         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
show the pebble from the brook, that, slung, it mlay
be, by a youthful hand, but directed of God, was
buried in the forehead of their giant sin. They can
show the word that penetrated their soul, and-in
some truths of Scripture-the salve that healed the
sore, the balm that stanched the blood, and the bandage that Christ's own kind hand wrapped on the
bleeding wound. Able to trace the steps and whole
progress of their conversion-its most minute and interesting details-they can say with David, "Come
and hear, all ye that fear God, and I will declare what
he hath done for my soul."
It is not so, however, with all, or, perhaps, with
most. Some, so to speak, are still-born; they were
unconscious of their change; they did not know when
or how it happened; for a while at least, they gave
hardly a sign of life. With many the dawn of grace
is, in more respects than one, like the dawn of day.
We turn our face to the east, and our back to the
setting stars, to note the very moment of the birth of
morning; yet how hard it is to tell when and where
the first faint, cold, steel-gray gleam appears. It is so
with many in regard to their spiritual dawn,-with
the breaking of an eternal day,-with their first emotions of desire, and of alarm, as with that faint and
feeble streak, which brightened, and widened, and
spread, till it blazed into a brilliant sky.
The great matter, about which to be anxious, is not
the time, nor place, nor mode of the change, but the
fact itself. Has this change taken place in you? Are
you other than once you were? Rather than be what
once you were, would you prefer not being at all?
Would you prefer annihilation to your old corruption?
Some, alas! change to the worse, giving themselves up




MAN CONVERTED               245
to sins, which once they would have blushed to mention. Dead to all sense of shame, breaking loose from
the innocence of their childhood, casting off the comely
habits and pious practices of a paternal home, they
plunge into excess of riot; and, borne on by the impetus they have acquired in the descent, like one running down hill who can not stop although he would,
when they reach the mouth of the pit they are borne
over into perdition. They change, but, like "Seducers," they " wax worse and worse." The night grows
darker and darker; the edge of conscience duller and
duller; the process of petrifaction goes on in their
heart, till it acquires the hardness of stone; and, wallowing in the mire of the lowest sensuality, they can
make a boast of sins-sins, in regard to which, on the
day when they left their father's roof, with his blessing
on their head, and a mother's warm tears on their
cheek, they would have said with feelings of indignant
abhorrence-" Is thy servant a dog that he should do
such a thing." What a melancholy change!
In blessed and beautiful contrast to a metamorphosis so sad, has the change in you taken an opposite
direction? Can you say, I am not what once I was,but better, godlier, holier! Happy are you! Happy,
although, afraid of presumption, and in the blushing
modesty of a spiritual childhood, you can venture no
further than one who was urged to say whether she
had been converted? How modest, yet how satisfactory her reply! That, she answered, I cannot-that
I dare not say; but there is a change somewhere;
either I am changed, or the world is changed. If you
can say so, it is well. Such an answer leaves no room
for painful doubts. Our little child-watching with
curious eye the apparent motion of objects-calls out




846          THE GOSPEL' -IN EZEKIEL.
-n:ecstasy, And bids u's see how hedge arid' housei.are
flying past our carfIiage.: I't -idsnot these'that' move,
nor is it the fixed and' firnm shore, with its. trees anid
fields, and boats at anchor,::and harbors and'headlarnds,
thatis gliding by the cabin windows.- That is an'illusion of thee eye. -The motion is not, in them'but us.
Ancd if the world is growing less in your eye, it shows
that you' are retreatihg from; it, rising above' it, ahd
ascending in the arms of gracb to.higher regions;':and
if" the fashion of tlis world,'to our'eye, seems passing
away, it is because'we ourselves are: passing —passing
and pressing on1 in'the way to heaven. -,iSinr never
changes.:And if what was on'ce lovely looks loathsome' now-if;what was once desired is detested now,
if what was once sought we now shun and shrink
from,'it is'hot because sin is'changed, hb-t-' blessed' be
God; and praise: be to his grace-we  are' chaiged.
O:ureyes are opened:; the scales have dropt fro.them;
and'the solution'of thle problem may be found in the
blind man's answer- "Whereas I.wars blind, now'I
see.",




new-e heart'also'iwilwnt
~|t      $.of     tonu+
A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within
- you; and I will take away the'stony heart out of your flesh. —.-...'EZEKIEL XXXVi. 2.6.''-".:,,o.:  ~'.....
THERE.i a mine of sound-sense in the adage of an
old, divine, "seriousness is the greatest wisdom, temperance the most efficient physic, and a good conscience the,.very best estate."  Early habits of selfrestraint, total abstinence. from all excess, diligence in
business, attention to our duties, and that tranquility
pf mind which piety breeds, and which those enjoy
who are at peace with God,-these, we confidently affrm, would do more to abate disease than all our
physicians, much more to feed the hungry, and clothe
the naked, than our Poor Laws and charitable institutions, and very much more than any Acts of Parliament to promote the comforts of the people, and preserve the liberties, of the commonwealth. The older
we grow, and the more our observation enlarges, the
deeper grows our conviction, that "godliness is profitable unto all things, having promise of the life that
now is, and of that which. is to come."
One of the most remarkable instances of the truth,
which it was ever our good fortune to see, presented
itself in the, immediate vicinity of this church. A
weary day had passed in visiting a degraded neighborhood., The scenes were sad, sickening, repulsive.
Famine, fever, want, squalid nakedness, moral and




248         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
physical impurities, drunkenness, death, and the devil
were all reigning there. Those only who have known
the sickness and sinking of heart which the miseries
of such scenes produce, especially when aggravated by
a close and foul atmosphere, can imagine the gratification and surprise with which, on opening a door, we
stepped into a comfortable apartment. Its whitewashed walls were hung round with prints; the furniture shone like a looking-glass; and a bright fire was
dancing merrily over a clean hearth-stone. It was an
oasis in the desert. And we well remember, ere question was asked or answered, of saying to ourselves,
<" Surely the fear of God is in this place; this must be
the house of a church-going family." It proved to be
so. A blind man dwelt there. It was a home where
squalid poverty might have been excused. And
from it we carried away with us a lively sense of the
temporal advantages of piety; and felt inclined to
chalk these words on the blind man's door, as a lesson
to his neighbors-" The fear of the Lord, that is wisdom; and to depart from evil is understanding."
Suppose-and we suppose nothing impossible, nor
in coming days improbable, for the promise waits fulfillment, "a nation shall be born in a day "-suppose,
then, that in the plentitude of divine grace, God should
bend an eye of pity on the wretched inhabitants of our
immediate neighborhood, and pour down his Spirit
on them in showers from heaven. At present, with a
few bright exceptions, they are the votaries and victims of dissipation-I say votaries and victims, because vice is such a damning thing, that he who begins
by ministering at her altar always ends by becoming
the sacrifice. Around us thousands live who never
enter a house of God. Their children, unless they are




THE HEART OF STONE.           249
fortunate enough to die early, are reared in ignorance,
vice, and crime; and by habits of intemperance, many
of them have reduced themselves to pinching hunger,
ill-relieved by the uncertain supplies of charity, and
the most squalid wretchedness. Now, suppose that
God were pleased to send life to these "dry bones,"that from lip to lip, and house to house, the cry were
passing, "Oh, sirs, what shall I do to be saved?" —
that the last shilling that vice had left, were spent for
the purchase of a Bible; that, like water by men
parched in the desert, and dying of thirst, God's word
were bought, borrowed, or begged, and that, rising to
the summons of the Sabbath bell, these streets, where
only a solitary worshiper may now be seen, were
filled with the unaccustomed spectacle of a ragged
crowd pouring into the houses of God;-how soon
would their common aspect change? A few weeks,
and we should hardly recognize them.
Save these picturesque and old-fashioned tenements,
the blue heavens above, that rocky citadel with its
frowning batteries, yonder noble arm of the sea, and
the same green fields, rich valleys and romantic crags,
of the everlasting hills around us, all old things else
would have passed away. Prisons, that now complain
of crowded cells, would be found too large; and many
churches, cold now with empty pews, would be found
too small. The smoldering fever would, like an unfed fire, go out for want of fuel; and rank churchyards would grow green at Christmas, for lack of their
too-frequent burials. The brutal features of dissipa
tion would give place to an expression of intelligence
and humanity; roses would blow on childhood's pallid cheek, and mother's smiles would chase the sadness
from many a poor, sallow, infant face. Then, under
11*




-250         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
the, patronage of religion', and the sign of the Bible,
the craft of the honest mechanic,'and- the trade of the
useful merchant would flourish, while the panderer to
vice would fall into unpitied bankruptcy, arid the voice
of- a virtuous people would tell: him to shut shop and
begone. Furniture would crowd these empty rooms:;
the rags, through whose loopholes poverty stared out
upon a pitying world, would change into, decent attire.
Piety, descending like an angel' from the skies, would
conie to these dwellings with a prophet's blessing; beneatlh. her celestial feet happiness would spring up
like summer flowers; plenty would pour her horn into
the, lap of poverty; there Would be meal in every
household barrel, and oil in every widow's cruse.
Underneath the benign and blessed influences of religion, this wilderness would be glad; our city Ishmaelites would change into Israelites, and these moral:deserts would rejoice and blossom like the rose.'" Even
so, come, Lord Jesus; come quickly." 
The truth is, the world's great want is the:want of
religion. Perhaps men want more equal laws, more
liberal institutions, and through their happy influence,
better and more stable governments. The greatest
want of nations is, however, that without which liberty
has no solid pedestal to stand on —a genuine, masspervading piety. To drop. all reference to foreign
countries, I am sure that he who attempts to cure our
own. social maladies, independently of this best and
most sanatory element, may be a philanthropist, but
is not a philosopher. We had almost said he is a fool.
He is an idle schemer, who would fain make bricks
without straw, and heal the waters of Jericho without
the prophet's salt. His theories are as baseless and,un.olid as if they conceived of man as a creature




THE HEART OF STONE,           251
without a soul-of the solar system as without its
central sun-of the universe without its God. But
while religion is thus the mortar that binds society
together,-while the poor man may remember to his
comfort, that if he leave his family no inheritance but
his prayers and the priceless legacy of a godly example, he leaves them rich indeed,-while an education of domestic piety is better than all Greek and
Roman lore,-and while godliness is the most stable
basis on which to erect an earthly fortune,-I pray
you to observe that the change promised in the text
does not necessarily imply any temporal advantageany improvement either in our bodily condition or
worldly circumstances. We live in a world of mysteries. We sometimes see religion languishing neglected on a bed of sickness; and piety, in other cases
than that of Lazarus, may be found clad in rags and
covered with sores, sitting a beggar at the rich man's
gate. The change is on the man within. The change
is on the tenant, not the tenement; on the heart, not
the body; on our circumstances, not so much in this
life as in the life to come. If by faith in Christ you
come to God, I can not promise for him that he will
pour health into your veins or money into your purse.
But he will endow-you with infinitely better gifts.
Hear what he promises in the text-"A new heart
also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within
you; and I will take away the stony heart out of your
flesh, and I will give you an heart of flesh."
Having already illustrated the greatness of this
change, I now proceed to examine its nature; and
remark



252         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
I. The old heart is taken away, and a new one put
in its place.
The head was justly considered by the ancients to
be the residence of the intellectual faculties, where the
soul sat enthroned, as in a palace-presiding over all.
On the other hand, they regarded the affections as
having dwelling in the heart-that other great organ
of our system. Within the breast, love and hatred,
grief and joy, aversion and desire, generosity, jealousy,
pity, revenge, were supposed to dwell; and thus (to
dismiss the metaphor), that substitution of one heart
for another which is promised in the text, just implies
an entire change in the character and current of our
affections. Now, a change may be simply a reform,
or, extending farther, it may pass into a revolution.
The spiritual change, which we call conversion, is not
a mere reform. It is a revolution —a mighty revolution, if aught was ever worthy of that name-a revolution greater than the tomes of profane history, or
any old monuments of stone or ofbrass record. It
changes the heart, the habits, the eternal destiny of an
immortal being. On the banner, borne in triumph at
the head of this movement, I read the words that
doom old things to ruin, " Overturn, Overturn, Overturn." For the old mischievous laws which it repeals,
it introduces a new code of statutes; it changes the
reigning dynasty, wrenches the scepter from a usurper's
hand, and, banishing him forth of the kingdom, in
restoring the throne to God, restores it to its rightful
monarch.
The Gospel is indisputably revolutionary;-there
can be no doubt of the fact. The old charge brought
against its preachers is true. "These that have
turned the world upside down, are come hither also."




THE HEART OF STONE.           253
The world requires to be turned upside down. Like
a boat capsized in a squall, and floating keel uppermost in the sea, with men drowning around it, the
world has been turned upside down already; and to
be set right, it must just be turned upside down again.
If the order which God established has been reversed
by sin —if in our hearts and habits time has assumed
the place of eternity-the body of the soul-earth of
heaven, and self of God;-if that is first which should
be last, and that last which should be first,-if that is
uppermost which should be undermost, and that undermost which should be uppermost, then happy the
homes and the hearts of which, in reference to the entrance of God's Word, Spirit, and converting grace,
it can be said, "These that have turned the world
upside down, are come hither also."
Where, it may be asked, lies the inevitable necessity
for a change so pervadingly elementary, so radical, so
revolutionary? such an inward and total change?
We must seek for that necessity in the records of a
distant past. It lies in an old event-in the Fall.
By reason of that great crime and sad calamity, the
condition of our hearts has become naturally so badin reference at least to spiritual objects and interests
-as not to admit of repair. We understand how
this may be true of a house. The tenement may have
fallen into such utter decay, so many cracks may gape
in its bulged and tottering walls, the timbers may be
so moth-eaten, the foundations so shaken, post, pillar,
and lintel so moldered away, that nothing remains
but to pull it down level with the ground, and on its
old site to erect a new and stately edifice. Or-to
vary the illustration-a watch,, which has slipped
through careless fingers, and crashed on the pavement,




254i         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
may be so shattered as to have its works damaged beyond repair. It passes the skill of the most accomplished mechanic to mend them., He must clean out
the shell, -take away the old works, and substitute new
machinery. In that ease, although wheels, axles,
levers, move within the old- casements, the'watch, in
fact, is new; even so, when converted, although there
is no loss of: personal identity suffered, he who gets
a new heart becomes, in a sense, a new man: to use
the Apostle's w'ords, " He' isj in Christ; a new creature."
It is o'doubt true that there are many, and some
very serious injuries which. admit'of repair.' A steady,
honest, enterprising merchant may repair a bankrupt
fortune; a sagacious statesman may solder a broken
crown; a'physician may patch up a worn-out constitution; even some Mary Magdalene, returning to the
paths of virtue, may repair that most fragile of all
things-a woman's character; and, with time and
God's grace given me, I will undertake to heal a broken heart. In'the divine government we see the
most remarkable provision made. for the reparation of
those injuries to which his creatures are exposed.
The bark-grows on:the peeled: surface of an old elm
or.oak, so as in time; to obliterate the letters that
friendship or'fond love has carved. From the lips of
the gaping wound.a liquid flesh- is poured,'which, receiving nerves: and -blood-vessels into its substance,
solidifies, and at length fills up the breach. From its
shattered surfaees, the:brokeri limb discharges a fluid
bone-a living cement —which, growing solid, restores
the continuity of the shaft,. and gives the sufferer a
leg or arm, strong as before. In some of the lower
animals, indeed, this power of reparation is equal to
the. taskl not only of repairing a broken, but of even




THE HEART OFE STONE.           255
restoring a lost member. With such renovating
powers has God endowed certain creatures, that, if by.
accident or otherwise, the writhing worm, for example,
is divided, the. headless portion not only survives such,
a formidable lesion, but, strange to see! produces and
puts on a new head; and offers'us an example of animal life, which; besides being fortified against the
most formidable injuries, is, actually multiplied by
division-'-" How marvelous are thy works, Lord God
Almighty!".- 
There are many striking- and very interesting analogies between grace and nature. But there is no
analogy between these cases and the case before us.
So far as man's natural and inherent powers are concerned, his heart sustained an irreparable injury by
the Fall. Sin -is a disease which our constitution has
no power to throw off; and which no human skill
can remove.. The preacher is here assisted by none
of that "healing power of nature" which is' the phy,
sician's best ally. Not only so, but God himselfwith whom in a sense all things. are' possible, and to
whom nothing istoo hard-does not attempt its repair. In the, work of conversion, it is not an old
heart which is to be mended, but a new one which is
to be given. In any attempt to patch up the old garment, the..new cloth is lost, and the rent gapes but
wider. On the old, frail, *musty bottle, heaven wastes
not her costly wine.  The truth is, man does not
admit of being repaired; and the more we become
acquainted with our hearts, the more ready shall we
b.e to describe their desperate and deplorable condition in the words of Holy Scripture-" The heart is
deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked."
The first thing, therefore, which you, who are seeking




256         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
the kingdom of God and his righteousness, have need
to seek, is what God promises in the text, and David
pleads for in this prayer —" Create in me a clean heart,
0 God, and renew a right spirit within me."
Let me press this truth upon your thoughtful attention. May God impress it upon your hearts! A
lively and profound sense of it is of the highest importance. To feel our need of a new heart, and to
feel that this old one will not mend nor make better,
is, in fact, the first step in salvation; and the deeper
our impression of the reality of the truth, the more
diligently shall we labor, and the more earnestly shall
we pray to be renewed day by day. It is a conviction that will secure our cordial assent to the memorable saying, with which one of England's greatest
men, her bravest and noblest spirits, closed an illustrious career on the scaffold of an ungrateful country.
When Sir Walter Raleigh had laid his head upon the
block, he was asked by the executioner whether it lay
right. Whereupon, with the calmness of a hero, and
the faith of a Christian he returned an answer-the
power of which we all shall feel, when our own head
is tossing and turning on death's uneasy pillow-" It
matters little, my friend, how the head lies, provided
the heart is right."
Now, as the view of the old heart, given in my
text, is eminently calculated, with the divine blessing,
to show us how much we need a new one, let us considerII. The view which our text gives of the'natural
heart.
It is a heart of stone. " I will take the stony heart
out of your flesh." We shall best understand the




THE HEEART OF STONE.          257
meaning of this figure, in its application to the heart,
by considering, in a popular point of view, some of the
characteristic properties of a stone.
A stone is cold. Coldness is characteristic of a stone.
The lapidary, using his tongue to test the temperature,
can, by that simple means, tell whether the seeming
jewel is paste, or a real gem; and when our eye has
been deceived by the skill of the painter, the sense of
touch has informed us, that what seemed marble was
only wood. It is a common saying, "As cold as a
stone."  But what stone so cold as that in man's
breast? Cold is the bed of the houseless, who lies
stretched on the wintry pavement, and cold the cell
within whose dank stone walls the shivering prisoner
is immured; but colder far by nature is this heart of
ours to God and Christ. We are born lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God. God is not an object
of our love, nor do we make any return to Jesus for
his warm and fond affection. Blessed Lord! he had
many a cold lodging on this ungrateful earth; his
couch was oft the open field, where his locks were wet
with the dews of night; drenched with the spray of
the sea, and the lashing rain, his weary frame found
sleep on the hard benches of a fisher's boat; yet
on these he lay not on so cold a bed as he would
find in the dark, dreary chambers of an unrenewed
heart. Sin has quenched a fire that once burned
bright and holy there, and has left nothing now on
that chill hearth, but embers and ashes-cold as
death. "The carnal mind is enmity against God; is
not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be."
A stone is hard. Fire melts wax, but not stone;
water softens clay, but not stone; a hammer bends
the stubborn iron, but not stone. Stone resists these




"258         TIHEIE GOSPEL I N, EZEKIEL.
influences; and, emblem -of a heart crushed, but -not
sanctified by affliction, iti may be shattered into fragments, or ground to powder, yet its atoms are as hard
as ever., It is with': the dust Of diamonds that the
diamond is cut.:; -We have stood on-a sea rock, when
every'billow, swung.on by the, tempest;: broke against
it with the roar of'artillery, ad.d shot; up a shower of
snowy spray; we have looked to the crag, on'whose
bald brows the storm' was'buirsting,? and wondered
how these could1, have braved for so nrrany thousand
years the war and wear of elements -and yet there is
more cause to be surprised at wha't a man's heart will
Stand.' He sits in the chureh under a'series of affect,
ing sermons,-or' a,succession of affecting providences
like. great sea wavesb bre'aking over -him;' and he is
unshaken, at. least unaltered, and to all but Divine
grace unalterable..:He. caz;, be saved; but he can only
be saved, because there is nothing. impossible; toi God.
Sitting' there,- go hard, so. cod, he reminds us s-of a
mountain crag, cut by naturels fantastic hand into the
features-of' a mann, which'looks out with cold and
stony eye upon the'gathering: tempest, prepared, as it
has already weathered a thousand storms,'to weather
a thousand more.';         r'': 
The man who remains unmoved under, a ministry
of mercy, who is insensible to, at once the most appalling and appealing lessons of providence, who fears no
more than a rock the thunders and lightnings that
play round hisbrow, and feels no more than a rock
the influences that fall like summer sunbeams.from
the face and' cross of Jesus, is manifestly beyond all
human power. I would despair'of his salvation, but
for the omnipotence and benevolence.of God; and,
because I know that he, who of the stones of the street




,oould.raise up children'tot Abraham,, ean: turn -that
heart of stonte into' ab heart of:flesh.: What need here
of the Spirit of God!'Oh! there is an' obstinacy, an
obduracy, a strength-of, resistance, an impenetrability
to impression in'the'unconverted, before which manS
however anxious to save, is utterly powerless. In
dealing with:- such a case, Wee seem to hear the voice
of God addressing us in,:his. words to Job —':-Canst
thou draw out leviathan with a hookl? or his tongue
with a'cord which thou lettest down?. Cans. thou put
a hook into his nose, or bore his jaw through with a
thorn?' Wilt thou take him- for a servant?' Wilt
thou play with him as;a bird? or:wilt; thou bind him
for thy maidens? His scales are his pride;joined one
to another they stick together that they, cannot be.undered. His eyes are, like the eyelids of the morn:
ing. Out of his mouth go burning lamps,: and sparks
of fire leap out. The sword of him that layeth at him
can not hold:; the spear, the dart, nor the habergeon
He esteemeth iron as straw and brass as rotten wood,
p)arts are counted as stubble; he laugheth at the
shaking of a.spear.:'He maketh the deep to boil like
pot; he maketh the'sea like a. pot- of ointment; he
maketh'a path to shine after him; one would think
the deep to be hoary. His:heart is, as firm as a stone,
yea, as.hard-as a piece of the nether mill-stone."
A stone is dead. It has. no vitality, no feeling, no
power of motion. It lies where it is laid,: The tombstone above and the dead man below undergo, no
change, other than'thatboth,'by a slower'or speedier.
decay,'are moldering into dust. In that hall of nobles
the'marble forms of departed greatness look down unmoved upon scenes where once they themselves played,
a, distinguished.part, and are, alike unmoved, whether




260         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
their statesmanship be reviled or praised.  In this
statue —however skillful the sculptor's imitationthere is no life; no speech breaks from these mute
lips; the limbs seem instinct with power, yet they
never leave their pedestal; no fire flashes in the dull,
gray eyes, nor passions burn within the stony breast.
The stone is deaf, and dumb, and dead. In grief's
wild and frantic outbursts affection may address the
the form of one deeply loved, and for ever lamented.
Speak to it, it returns no answer; weep to it, it sheds
no tears; image of a lost and loved one, it feels not the
grief that itself can move. Now, how many sit in the
house of God as unmoved?   Careless as mere spectators who have no concern in what takes place before
them, they take no interest in any thing that was
done on Calvary! Is it not sad to think that more
tears are shed in playhouses than in churches; and
that by those who call themselves Christians, the new
novel is sought more eagerly, and devoured more
greedily than the New Testament'? What a deplorable account of the human heart! One would think
it is of stones, and yet it is of living men, too like,
alas! to many of ourselves-these words are spoken
-" Having eyes, they see not; having ears, they hear
not; neither do they understand."
We have described a stone as cold, hard, dead.' Is
this, some may ask, a fair and just picture of the
human heart? The question is a fair one, and deserves a frank answer.  I should hinder a cause I
desire to help, and do injustice to divine truth, were I
to answer that question by simply affirming, that the
picture is a true portrait of the natural heart in all its
sentiments and emotions.  Human nature is bad
enough without exaggerating its evils. There is no




TIE HEART OF STONE.           261
need to exaggerate them. In one sense, they do not
admit of exaggeration. And, if we dared, instead of
exaggerating, we should be happy to excuse them,
and to our mother nature, render the kind and filial
office of casting a cloak upon her shame.
We know as well as others do, and would ever
remember, that although man be dead to gracious
affections, until sin has had "its perfect work," he is
not dead to many tender and lovely emotions of nature. Many beauties are lingering about this ruinthe engaging, but melancholy vestiges of its former
glory. We freely admit, that, so far as regards father
and mother, wife and children, brother and sister, and
the beloved friends of our social circles, an unrenewed
heart may be the warm nest of kindliest affections.
There can be no doubt, I think, that the Christian will
prove the best father, the best husband, the best wife,
the best master, the best servant, the best citizen, the
truest, trustiest friend. Nay, for their pith and truth,
notwithstanding their homeliness, I will venture to
quote the words of Rowland Hill, who said, "I would
give nothing for the Christianity of a man whose very
dog and cat were not the better of his religion." Still,
it is no treason against the Gospel to believe that one,
yet unhappily a stranger to the grace of God, may be
endowed with many most pleasant and lovely virtues.
Away among the rough moors, by the banks of
tumbling river, or the skirts of green wood, or on
sloping acclivity, or steep hill-side, we have gathered,
remote from gardens and the care of men, bunches of
wild flowers, which, although very perishing, were
exquisitely beautiful, and steeped in fragrant odors;
and such as these are some men and women, who have
never yet been transplanted from a state of nature




into a state Qf grace.   rTherei& is no sin in lovinig Mtheih.
In the young:ruler who declinedl  t t ake pup- his crdss
and follow -Chiist;j wass rnot there so much that ias,amiable,' gentle,: lovely-, that' JTesus' own heart was
drawn to him-:?-It is said that he * loved him;" and
Athe emotions of a Saviour's~ bosom:cannot: be wrong
in mine. Nor is his a rare phenbmenon-a,solitary
case. We;have seen men who made no great profession: of religiion,.who e6rtainly' were not pious, but
who; were yet so kind,' tender,- affectionate, generaous,
largechearted,- and opei -handed, tha-t t t was impossible,not to love -therh.; Natu're never asked our permission.
Whiet-her w   oetiuld or not, we felt dra;vn to them, as
Jess- was to- thie amiable youth: twho refused to follow
hii.:  And as we have rooted upi from the mobrso'me
wild fIower4to blow and shed its -fragrance in -a sweeter
than its'-ative home,'have we not longed to' do -the
Lsame with these'fine'speci-miens- of the- natural man?
Transplanted. by grace.iito-     n t    hegaden  the Lod,
<baptized with the dews of heaven, converted -to the
faith,; they Woitd vbe flowe6rs fit-: o *forNmv' vreath'fdr
-theibrow'that'men'wreathed wih.thtortis.':' I am dom-.pellid to ackn'owledge; that I have known:some,; whori
even charity could not-reckon mn6 g tiue Christians,:who;' yet in;-point-;of atual virt'es,' put:hristians-'to
ahame.',Ir-i/some'-beatiful traits they were more likO
Jestus.than tot a few off his,eal diseiples. "  t:Let there ibe —nob mistakle, then;' wheni I speak of the
he.aras a-stohe,'I am; Idokring-ataitas 6lks bt s on God,
a'- Saviour, salvatimi,'a;d'etertiiy.; However distressihgn   otit is'(a  is i'most ldistessing)''. to think that persons otie'rwi:se -ms t-' vely arid ofi'riost loving hear-t
are so cold -a'td'allciiius' to ahe claiiris of Jesus;'yet,; s
fatir as divi 6btilve tb'-ismAes,;i iid'  fi"'hs the;ki'n'




THE HEART OF STONE.              263
nesses of saving mercy are concerned, I am'convinced
that among the rocks which beat back the roaring sea
-up in the crags where dews, and rain, and bright
sunbeams fall-down in earth's darkest and deepest
mines, there lies bedded no stone colder, harder, less
impressible,' more impenetrable, than ah unrenewed
heart. Does unbelief suggest the question, Why,
then', preach to:the'unconverted? as well preach tfo
tones? Las well knock with thy hand upon -a door
which is locked on a coffin and a corpse? In a sense,
true,;; and.altogetbher true; but, for the:;promis.e'- Lo
Iam with you; alWay, even unto.the;e ndiof,the;worid.".
That.promise, is the, Soul.:of hope:a.di:,.the. life lof,preaching,';It foribids djesp.air.,;-:ind;;shbuld-,coward
rmiristers,.yieldingito despair, hold)tltheir tongues, ard
pulpits;. all. be.. silent,. Christ',; still:., were- Lireachend
Strange,,evatnge'lists: wo'iuld start uip in thseesstreets to
break). this, awful, itunbelieiing,silence,. Asked by!;an
eaviQns, priesthood, to;sileft.co;the;; bosanas o of. the
nmuiltitude, Jesus turned i;on henmai.d said;-,". I:tell you;
that iif these shJou1ld hol d.theirl peace,; cthe.,ones~would
iJinediately eryiout.'" iThusassuied  nbtf odly of. o
Childre: not only,ofo nur; pepoeple,, inot:only; of!,the:dad
w.mibi off rSar`ahi,b-ut; of,j tthd ery stones,f.the:street;
that "i Gid cian, rlise;uipa cildThodren.toiAbiraham' despairW'  dapnnoti'-feelr'ana;. dumb:;we, q anriidot;/b. I.,,'He:'tho
shall xaite vt.he]f dead iilif chluchryyards,. can wa k-en/.the
dead i, l cehuirches.['Therefbd rewe eexpct -co nv6rsions;
ad:.i.i hope, offel;O:r lChist to the ~hief;  f sinaners,'be
seeching you.;: "..'Be yeir r'eonciled itoGoQdI,'




A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within
you; and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and
I will give you an heart of flesh.-EZEKIEL Xxxvi. 26.
As in a machine where the parts all fit each other,
and, bathed in oil, move without din or discord, the
most perfect harmony reigns throughout the kingdom
of grace. Jesus Christ is the " wisdom," as well as
the "power" of God; nor in this kingdom is any
thing found corresponding to the anomalies and incongruities of the world lying without. There we sometimes see a high station disgraced by a man of low
habits; while others are doomed to an inferior condition, who would shine like gilded ornaments on the
very pinnacles of society. That beautiful congruity
in Christ's kingdom is secured by those who are the
objects of saving mercy being so renewed and sanctified that their nature is in harmony with their position,
and the man within corresponds to all without.
Observe how this property of new runs through the
whole economy of grace. When Mercy first rose
upon this world, an attribute of Divinity appeared
which was new to the eyes of men and angels. Again,
the Saviour was born of a virgin; and He who came
forth from a womb where no child had been previously
conceived, was sepulchred in a tomb where no man
had been previously interred. The Infant had a new
birth-place, the Crucified had a new burial-place.




THE NEW HEART.              265
Again, Jesus is the mediator of a new covenant the
author of a new testament, the founder of a new faith.
Again, the redeemed receive a new name; they sing
a new song; their home is not to be in the Old, but
in the New Jerusalem, where they shall dwell on a
new earth, and walk in glory beneath a new heaven.
Now it were surely strange, when all things else are
new, if they themselves were not to partake of this
general renovation. Nor strange only, for such a
change is indispensable. A new name without a new
nature were an imposture. It were not more an untruth to call a lion a lamb, or the rapacious vulture by
the name of the gentle dove, than to give the title of
sons of God to the venomous seed of the Serpent.
Then, again, unless man received a new nature,
how could he sing the new song? Tle raven, perched
on the rock, where she whets her bloody beak, and
impatiently watches the dying struggles of some unhappy lamb, cannot tune her croaking voice to the
rich, mellow music of a thrush; and, since it is out
of the abundance of the heart that the mouth speaketh, how could a sinner take up the strain and sing
the song of saints? Besides, unless a man were a new
creature, he were out of place in the new creation.
In circumstances neither adapted to his nature, nor
fitted to minister to his happiness, a sinner in heaven
would find himself as much out of his element as a
finny inhabitant of the deep, or a sightless burrower
in the soil, beside an eagle, soaring in the sky, or surveying her wide domain from the mountain crag.
In the works of God we see nothing more beautiful
than the divine skill with which he suits his creatures
to their condition. IIe gives wings to birds, fins to
fishes, sails to the thistle-seed, a lamp to light the glow12




266         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
worm, great roots to moor the cedar, and to the aspiring
ivy her thousand hands to climb the wall. Nor is the
wisdom so conspicuous in nature, less remarkable and
adorable in the kingdom of grace. He forms a holy
people for a holy heaven-fits heaven for them, and
them for heaven. And calling up his Son to prepare
the mansions for their tenants, and sending down his
Spirit to prepare the tenants for their mansions, he
thus establishes a perfect harmony between the new
creature and the new creation.
You cannot have two hearts beating in the same
bosom, else you would be, not a man, but a monster.
Therefore, the very first thing to be done, in order to
make things new, is just to take that which is old out
of the way. And the taking away of the old heart is,
after all, but a preparatory process. It is a means, but
not the end. For-strange as it may at first soundhe is not religious who is without sin. A dead man is
without sin; and he is sinless, who lies buried in dreamless slumber, so long as his eyes arc sealed. Now, God
requires more than a negative religion. Piety, like
fire, light, electricity, magnetism, is an active, not a
passive element; it has a positive, not merely a negative existence. For how is pure and undefiled religion
defined? " Pure religion and undefiled is to visit the
fatherless and widows in their affliction."  And on
whom does Jesus pronounce his beatitude? "If ye
know these things, happy are ye if ye do them." And
what is the sum of practical piety-the most portable
form in which you can put an answer to Saul's question, "Lord, what wouldst thou have me to do?"
What but this, "Depart from evil, and do good."
Therefore, while God promises to take the stony heart
out of our flesh, he promises more. In taking away




THE NEW HEART.              267
one heart, he engages to supply us with another; and
to this further change and onward stage in the process
of redemption, I now proceed to turn your attention:
and, by way of general observation, I remark —
I. Our affections are engaged in religion.
An oak —not as it stands choked up in the crowded
wood, with room neither to spread nor breathe, but as
it stands in the open field-swelling out below where
it anchors its roots in the ground, and swelling out
above where it stretches its arms into the air, presents
us with the most perfect form of firmness, self-support,
stout and sturdy independence. So perfectly formed,
indeed, is the monarch of the forest to stand alone,
and fight its own battles with the elements, that the
architect of the Bell Rock Lighthouse is said to have
borrowed his idea of its form from God in nature, and
that, copying the work of a Divine Architect, he took
the trunk of the oak as the model of a building which
was to stand the blast of the storm,.and the swell of
winter seas.
In striking contrast with this tree, there are plants
-some of them of the richest perfume and fairest
beauty-such as the passion-flower, the ivy, the clematis, and the woodbine, which can not stand alone.
They have neither pith nor fiber to maintain themselves erect.
Yet these are not doomed to the base fate of being
trodden in the dust by the hoof of every passing beast,
and have their beauty soiled in the mire. Types of
one whom God has called by his grace, and beautified
with salvation, who is strong in weakness, and rises
to the highest honors of heaven, these plants may
overtop the tallest oak, and, holding on by the ever



268         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
lasting rocks, they have laughed at the storm which
laid his proud head in the dust. This strength they
have, and these honors they win, by help of the tendrils, the arms, those instruments of attachment with
which God has kindly furnished them. These plants
are formed to attach themselves to other objects; it is
their nature to do so. If they get hold of one noble
and lofty, they rise to the height of its nobility; if of
a mean one-some rotten stake or shattered wallthey embrace the ruin, and, like a true friend, share
its fate; and we have seen, when they had no other
object on which to fix themselves, how-like a
selfish man, who is the object of his own affections,
and has a heart no bigger than his coffin, just large
enough to hold himself-they would embrace themselves, and lie basely on the ground locked in forced
embarrassment in their own arms.
It is with man as with these. What their tendrils
are to them, our affections are to.us. Ambition aims
at independence; and men fancy, that when they have
accumulated such or such a fortune, obtained such or
such a place, arrived at such or such an age, they shall
be independent. Independent! what folly! man was
never made to be self-supporting, and self-satisfying.
Even when his home was Eden, and he enjoyed the
full favors of a benignant God, the Lord said-" It is
not good for man to be alone."
We are constituted with affections, of which we can
no more divest ourselves than of our skin. Be' the
object which we love noble or base, good or bad,
generous or selfish, holy or sinful, belonging to earth
or to heaven, some object we must love. It were as
easy for a man to live without breathing, as to live
without loving. It is not more natural for fire to burn,




THE NEW HEART.               269
or light to shine, than for man to love. And the
commandment, "'Love not the world, neither the things
that are in the world," had been utterly impracticable,
and impossible, save in conjunction with the other
commandment, "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God
with all thy heart, and soul, and mind." It is with
man's soul as with this plant which is creeping on the
earth;'to upbraid it for its baseness, to reproach it for
the mean objects around which its tendrils are entwined, will never make it stand erect; you can not
raise it unless you present some lofty object to which
it may cling. It is with our hearts as with vessels;
you can not empty them of one element without admitting or substituting another in its place. And just
as I can empty a vessel filled with air or with oil by
pouring water into it, because water is the heavier
fluid, or as I can empty a vessel of water by pouring
quicksilver into it, because the specific gravity of mercury is greatly in excess of that of water, so the only
way by which you can empty my heart of the world,
and the love of the world, is by filling it with the love
of God. This is the divine process and science of the
Gospel. The Gospel is accommodated to our nature;
its light is adapted to our darkness; its mercy to our
misery; its pardon to our guilt; its sanctification to
our impurity; its comforts to our griefs; and in substituting the love of Christ for the love of sin, in giving
us an object to love, it meets our constitution, and
satisfies the strongest cravings of our nature. It engages our affections, and, in taking away an old heart,
supplies its place with a new one and a better.
II. Consider now the new heart-" A new heart
also will I give you."




270         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
We have said enough in a preceding discourse to
show that we are not to look for evidence of the new
heart in the natural affections. Religion does not bestow these. We are born with them. We have some
of them in common with the brutes that perish; and
they may be found flourishing in all their beauty in
those who are strangers to the love of God. To them,
as to all things else, indeed, which are his gifts, sin is
antagonistic and injurious. Let sin ripen, so as to
have " its perfect work," and it acts like a cancer on
man's best affections. It first indurates, then deadens,
and at length destroys. Sinners are essentially selfish;
and-as we see exemplified every day-the more men
grow in sin, they grow the more heartless, and hesitate
less to sacrifice the tenderest feelings and best interests of others to their own base and brutal gratifications. There is a picture in the book of Romans,
painted by the hand of a master, which is more appalling and affecting than any which Roman artists
have hung on the walls of Rome. Here it is, a fulllength portrait of sinners drawn by the hand of Paul,
in these vivid and terrible colors:-" God gave them
over to a reprobate mind, to do those things which are
not convenient, being filled with all unrighteousness,
fornication, wickedness, covetousness, maliciousness;
full of envy, murder, debate, deceit, malignity; whisperers, backbiters, haters of God, despiteful, proud,
boasters; inventors of evil things, disobedient to parents, without understanding, covenant breakers, without natural affection, implacable, unmerciful."  What
a dark and dreadful picture of humanity! Behold
the monster into which sin, when fully developed,
turns the sweetest child. What an abominable thing




THE NEW HEART.               271
is sin! Like God, may we hate it with a perfect
hatred!
Observe, that although the state of the natural
affections does not furnish any certain evidence of conversion, it is the glory of piety that these are strengthened, elevated, sanctified by the change. The lover
of God will be the kindest, best, wisest lover of his
fellow-creatures. The heart that has room in it for
God, grows so large, that it finds room for all God's
train, for all that he loves, and for all that he has made;
so that the church, with all its denominations of true
Christians, the world, with all its perishing sinners,
nay-all the worlds which he has created, find. orbitroom to move, as in an expansive universe, within the
capacious enlargement of a believer's heart.  For
while the love of sin acts as an astringent-contracting the dimensions of the natural heart, shutting and
shriveling it up-the love of God expands and enlarges its capacity. Piety quickens the pulse of love,
warms and strengthens our heart, and sends forth
fuller streams of natural affection toward all that have
a claim on us, just as a strong and healthy heart sends
tides of blood along the elastic arteries to every extremity of the body.
This new heart, however, mainly consists in a
change of the affections as they regard spiritual objects. Without again traveling over ground which
we have already surveyed, just look at the heart and
feelings of an unconverted man. His mind being
carnal, is enmity or hatred against God. This may be
latent-not at first sight apparent, nor suspected-but
how soon does it appear when put to the proof? Fairly tried, it comes out like those unseen elements
which chemical tests reveal. Let God, for instance,




272          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
by his providences or laws, thwart the wishes or cross
the propensities of our unrenewed nature-let there
be a collision between His will and ours-and the
latent enmity flashes out like latent fire when the cold
black flint is struck with steel.
The Apostle pronounces men to be by nature lovers
of pleasure more than lovers of God; and is it not a
fact that the services of religion are so contrary to all
our natural tastes, that we are prone to say of them,
as of that day which brings down heaven to earth"It is a weariness; when will it be over?" The affections of the natural man are like the branches of
what are called weeping trees-they droop to the
earth, and sweep the ground; harmless or deleterious,
they are all directed earthward. This world is his
god; his heaven is on earth; the paradise he seeks is
here; his ten commandments are the opinions of men;
his sins are his pleasures; his prayers are a task; his
sabbaths are his longest, weariest days; and, although
no sheeted ghosts rise at midnight and walk the
church-yard to scare him, he has, in thoughts of God,
of judgment, of eternity, specters that haunt him, and
to escape from which he will fly into the arms of sin.
Now, if you have received a new heart, this state is
past, or is passing. Your affections are not dried or
frozen up; they are as warm, or rather warmer than
ever-still flowing, only flowing toward different objects, and in a different channel. In obedience to a
divine impulse, their course is not only in a different,
but in a contrary direction; for the grace of God works
such a complete change of feeling, that what was once
hated you now love, and what was once loved you
now loathe; you fly from what once you courted, and
pursue what you once shunned.




THE NEW HEART.              273
For example. Did you not once, like Adam in the
garden, hide yourself from God? Like Jacob, when
about to encounter an angry brother, did you not once
tremble at the prospect of meeting God? How did
you fret under the yoke of his law? In those who
bore his image, how did you revile, and shun, and
hate him? You could not banish him from the uni
verse, but how did you try to banish the thought of
him from your thoughts, and so put him and keep him
out of your mind, that it might be that black, cold,
empty, dark, dead, atheistic spot of this creation, where
God should not be? Believers! Oh what a blessed
revolution has grace wrought? Praise ye the Lord.
Although our attainments come far short of David's,
and the love of our bosoms may burn with a dimmer
and feebler flame, and we should therefore perhaps
pitch the expression of our feelings on a lower key,
let the Psalmist express for us the language of a renewed heart-" Oh how love I thy law! it is my meditation all the day. Thy testimonies are better to me
than thousands of gold and silver. Like as the hart
panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul
after thee, 0 God. My soul thirsteth for God, for the
living God. When shall I come and appear before
God. One thing have I desired of the Lord, that
will I seek after, that I may dwell in the house of
the Lord all the days of my life. I love the Lord
because he hath heard my prayer and the voice of my
supplication. Bless the Lord, ye his angels, that excel in strength.  Bless the Lord, all ye his hosts.
Bless the Lord, all his works. Bless the Lord, 0 my
soul. Let every thing that hath breath praise the
Lord. Praise ye the Lord."
12'




274         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
III. In conversion God gives a new spirit.
Conversion does not bestow new faculties. It does
not turn a weak man into a philosopher. Yet, along
with our affections, the temper, the will, the judgment
partake of this great and holy change. Thus, while
the heart ceases to be dead, the head, illuminated by
a light within, ceases to be dark; the understanding
is enlightened; the will is renewed; and our whole
temper is sweetened and sanctified by the Spirit of
God. To consider these in their order, I remarkBy this change the understanding and judgment are
enlightened. Sin is the greatest folly, and the sinner
the greatest fool in the world. There is no such madness in the most fitful lunacy. Think of a man risking eternity and his everlasting happiness on the uncertain chance of surviving another year. Think of
a man purchasing a momentary pleasure at the cost
of endless pain. Think of a dying man living as if
he were never to die. Is there a convert to God who
looks back upon his unconverted-state, and does not
say with David, "Lord, I was as a beast before
thee."
Now conversion not only restores God to the heart,
but reason also to her throne. Time and eternity are
now seen in their just proportions-in their right relative dimensions; the one in its littleness, and the
other in its greatness. When the light of heaven rises
on the soul, what grand discoveries does she makeof the exceeding evil of sin, of the holiness of the divine law, of the infinite purity of divine justice, of the
grace and greatness of divine love. On Sinai's summit
and on Calvary's cross, what new, sublime, affecting
scenes open on her astonished eyes! She now, as by




THE NEW HEART.             275
one convulsive bound, leaps to the conclusion that
salvation is the one thingneedful, and that if a man
will give all he hath for the life that now is, much
more should he part with all for the life to come. The
Saviour and Satan, the soul and body, holiness and sin,
have competing claims. Between these reason now
holds the balance even, and man finds, in the visit
of converting grace, what the demoniac found in Jesus' advent. The man whose dwelling was among the
tombs, whom no chains could bind, is seated at the
feet of Jesus, "clothed, and in his right mind."
By this change the will is renewed. Bad men are
worse, and good men are better than they appear. In
conversion the will is so changed and sanctified, that
although a pious man is in some respects less, in other
respects he is more holy than the world gives him
credit for. The attainments of a believer are always
beneath his aims; his desires are nobler than his
deeds; his wishes are holier than his works. Give
other men their will-full swing to their passions-and
they would be worse than they are; give that to him,
and he would be better than he is. And if you have
experienced the gracious change, it will be your daily
grief that you are not what you not only know you
should be, but what you wish to be. To be complaining with Paul, "When I would do good, evil is
present with me; that which I would I do not, and
what I would not, that I do," is one of the best evidences of a gracious, saving change.
Children of God! let not your souls be cast down.
This struggle between the new will and the old manpainful and prolonged although it be-proves beyond
all doubt the advent of the Holy Spirit. Until the
Saviour appeared there was no sword drawn, nor




276         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
blood shed in Bethlehem, nor murderous decree
issued against its innocents-they slept safely in their
mothers' bosoms, Herod enjoyed his security and pleasure, and Rachel rose not from her grave to weep for
her children because they were not. Christ's coming
rouses all the devil in the soul. The fruits of holy
peace are reaped with swords on the fields of war;
and this struggle within your breast proves that grace,
even in its infancy a cradled Saviour, is engaged in
strangling the old Serpent. When the shadow of
calamity falls on many homes, and the tidings of victory come with sad news to many a family, and the
brave are lying thick in the deadly breach, men comfort us by saying, that there are things worse than
war. That is emphatically true of this holy war.
Rejoice that the peace of death is gone.
By conversion the temper and disposition are changed
and sanctified. Christians are occasionally to be found
with a tone of mind and a temper as little calculated to
recommend their faith as to promote their happiness.
I believe that there are cases in which this is due to a
deranged condition of the nervous system, or the
presence of disease in some other vital organ. These
unhappy persons are more deserving of our pity than
our censure. This is not only the judgment of Christian charity, but of sound philosophy, and is a conclusion to which we are conducted in studying the union
between mind and body, and the manner in which
they act and re-act upon each other. So long as grace
dwells in a " vile body," which is the seat of frequent
disorder and many diseases-these infirmities of temper admit no more, perhaps, of being entirely removed,
than a defect of speech, or any physical deformity.
The good temper for which some take credit, may be




THE NEW HEART.              277
the result of good health and a well developed frame
-a physical more than a moral virtue; and an ill
temper, springing from bad health, or an imperfect
organization, may be a physical rather than a moral
defect-giving its victim a claim on our charity and
forbearance. But, admitting this apology for the unhappy tone and temper of some pious men, the true
Christian will bitterly bewail his defect, and, regretting his infirmity more than others do a deformity, he
will carefully guard and earnestly pray against it.
Considering it as a thorn in his flesh, a messenger of
Satan sent to buffet him, it will often send him to his
knees in prayer to God, that the grace which conquers
nature may be made "sufficient for him."
Those, however, who have no such plea to urge in
palliation of a suspicious, sour, discontented, irritable
temperament, have good ground to suspect their Christianity. Grace sweetens where it sanctifies. In the
name of God and Christianity, what has Christ to do
with Belial? What has grace to do with that avaricious, envious, malignant, implacable disposition,
which is utterly opposed to the genius of the Gospel
and the Spirit that was in Jesus Christ?  Am I told
that his disciples sought fire from heaven to consume
their enemies? Am I told that, with the intolerance
of bigotry, and a narrowness of mind still too common,
they thought to silence those whom they regarded as
rivals? Am I told that, set on fire of an earthly ambition, they blazed out into unseemly quarrels with
each other? Am I told that, even on the solemn eve
of a Saviour's sufferings, when their tears should have
quenched all unhallowed fires, they strove for the
highest place in the kingdom? Am I told how
harshly they silenced the cries, and rebuked the im



278         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
portunity of suffering, and how haughtily these proud
fishermen bore themselves to the mothers and babes
of Israel? True; but this temper passed away. Their
Master cast out the unclean spirit. Pentecost baptized
them with another nature. With the peace of Jesus
they received his gentle, generous, gracious, loving,
forbearing, forgiving temper. These Elishas entered
on their work clothed in the mantle of their ascended
Master. Had it been otherwise-had they not been
made of love, as well as messengers of love-had the
love they preached not breathed in every tone, and
beamed in every look-had they not illustrated in
their practice the genius of the Gospel, their mission
had been a signal failure; they had never opened the
hearts of men; they had never made their way in a
resistant world-never conquered it. Just as it is not
with stubborn but pliant iron that locks are picked,
the hearts of sinners are to be opened only by those
who bring a Christ-like gentleness to the work; and
who are ready, with Paul's large, loving, kind, and
generous disposition, to be all things to all men, if so
be that they may win some. Never had the disciples
gone forth "conquering and to conquer," had they
brought their old bigoted, quarrelsome, unsanctified
temper to the mission. They might have died for
Christianity, but she had died with them; and, bound
to their stake, and expiring in their ashes, she had
been entombed in the sepulcher of her first and last
apostles.
I pray you to cultivate the temper that was in Jesus
Christ. Is he like a follower of the Lamb who is
raging like a roaring lion? Is he like a pardoned criminal who sits moping with a cloud upon his brow?
Is he like an heir of heaven, like a man destined to a




THE NEW HEART.               279
crown, who is vexed and fretted with some petty loss?
Is he like one in whose bosom the Dove of heaven is
nestling, who is full of all manner of bile and bitterness? Oh, let the same mind be in you that was in
Jesus. A kind, catholic, gentle, loving temper is one
of the most winning features of religion; and by its
silent and softening influence you will do. more real
service to Christianity than by the loudest professions,
or the exhibition of a cold and skeleton orthodoxy.
Let it appear in you, that it is with the believer under
the influences of the Spirit as with fruit ripened beneath the genial influences of heaven's dews and
sunbeams. At first hard, it grows soft; at first sour,
it becomes sweet; at first green, it assumes in time a
rich and mellow color; at first adhering tenaciously
to the tree, when it becomes ripe, it is ready to drop
at the slightest touch. So with the man who is ripening for heaven. His affections and temper grow sweet,
soft, mellow, loose from earth and earthly things. He
comes away readily to the hand of death, and leaves
the world without a wrench.
IV. In conversion God gives a heart of flesh.  I
will give you a heart of flesh."
Near by a stone-a mass of rock that had fallen
from  the overhanging crag-which had some wild
flowers growing in its fissures, and on its top the foxglove, with its spike of beautiful but deadly flowers,
we once came upon an adder as it lay in ribbon coil,
basking on the sunny ground. At our approach the
reptile stirred, uncoiled itself, and raising its venomous head, with eyes like burning coals, it shook its
cloven tongue, and, hissing, gave signs of battle. Attacked, it retreated; and, making for that gray stone,




280          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
wormed itself into a hole in its side. Its nest and
home were there. And in looking on that shattered
rock —fallen from its primeval elevation-with its
flowery but fatal charms, the home and nest of the
adder, where nothing grew but poisoned beauty, and
nothing dwelt but a poisoned brood, it seemed to us
an emblem of that heart which the text describes as
a stone, which experience proves is a habitation of
devils, and which the prophet pronounces to be desperately wicked. I have already explained why the
heart is described as a stone. It is cold as a stone;
hard as a stone; dead and insensible as a stone. Now,
as by the term a flesh" we understand qualities the very
opposite of these, I therefore remark thatIn conversion a man gets a warm heart.
Let us restrict ourselves to a single example. When
faith receives the Saviour, how does the heart warm
to Jesus Christ  There is music in his name.  His
name is as an ointment poured forth." All the old
indifference to his cause, his people, and the interests
of his kingdom, has passed away; and now these have
the warmest place in a believer's bosom, and are the
objects of its strongest and tenderest affections. The
only place, alas! that religion has in the hearts of
many is a burial-place; but the believer can say with
Paul, "Christ liveth in me." Nor is his heart like the
cottage of Bethany, favored only with occasional
visits. Jesus abides there in the double character of
guest and master-its most loving and best loved inmate; and there is a difference as great between that
heart as it is, and that heart as it was, as between the
warm bosom where the Infant slept or smiled in Mary's




THE NEW HEART.               281
arms and the dark, cold sepulcher where weeping followers laid and left the Crucified.
Is there such a heart in you? Do you appreciate
Christ's matchless excellences? Having cast away
every sin to embrace him, do you set him above your
chiefest joy? Would you leave father, mother, wife,
children, to follow him, with bleeding feet; over life's
roughest path? Rather than part with him, would you
part with a thousand worlds? Were he now on earth,
would you leave a throne to stoop and tie his latchet?
If I might so speak, would you be proud to carry his
shoes? Then, indeed, you have got the new, warm
heart of flesh. The new love of Christ, and the old
love of the world, may still meet in opposing currents;
but in the war and strife of these antagonistic principles, the celestial shall overpower the terrestrial, as, at
the river's mouth, I have seen the ocean tide, when it
came rolling in with a thousand billows at its back,
fill all the channel, carry all before its conquering
swell, dam up the fresh water of the land, and drive
it back with resistless power.
In conversion a man gets a soft heart.
As "flesh," it is soft and sensitive. It is flesh, and
can be wounded or healed. It is flesh, and feels alike
the kiss of kindness and the rod of correction. It is
flesh; and no longer a stone, hard, obdurate, impenetrable to the genial influences of heaven. A hard
block of ice, it has yielded to the beams of the sun,
and been melted into flowing water. How are you
moved now, stirred now, quickened now, sanctified
now, by truths once felt no more than dews falling out
of starry heavens, in soft silence. upon rugged rock,




282         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
The heart of grace is endowed with a delicate sensibility, and vibrates to the slightest touch of a Saviour's
fingers. How does the truth of God affect it now!
A stone no longer, it melts under the heavenly firea stone no longer, it bends beneath the hammer of the
word; no longer like the rugged rock, on which rains
and sunbeams were wasted, it receives the impression
of God's power, and retains the footprints of his presence. Like the flowers that close their eyes at night,
but waken at the voice of morning, like the earth that
gapes in summer drought, the new heart opens to receive the bounties of grace and the gifts of heaven.
Have you experienced such a change? In proof and
evidence of its reality, is David's language yours-" I
have stretched out my hands unto thee. My soul
thirsteth after thee as a thirsty land?"
In conversion a man gets a living heart.
The perfection of this life is death-it is to be dead
to sin, but alive to righteousness, alive to Christ, alive
to every thing which touches his honor, and crown,
and kingdom. With Christ living in his heart, the
believer feels that now he is not himself-not his
own; and, as another's, the grand object of his life is
to live to Christ. He reckons him an object worth
living for, had he a thousand lives to live; worth
dying for, had he a thousand deaths to die. He says
with Paul, "I am crucified with Christ, nevertheless
I live." In the highest sense alive, he is dead-dead
to things he was once alive to; and he wishes that he
were more dead to them-thoroughly dead. HIe
wishes that he could look on the seductions of the
world, and sin's voluptuous charms, with the cold,




THE NEW HEART.              283
unmoved stare of death, and that these had no more
power to kindle a desire in him, than in the icy bosom
of a corpse. "Understandest thou what thou readest?"
It is a mark of grace, that the believer, in his progress heavenward, grows more and more alive to the
claims of Jesus. If you "know the love of Christ,"
his is the latest name you will desire to utter; his is
the latest thought you will desire to form; upon Him
you will fix your last look on earth; upon Him your
first in heaven. When memory is oblivious of all
other objects,-when all that attracted the natural eye
is wrapped in the mists of death,-when the tongue is
cleaving to the roof of our mouth, and speech is gone,
and sight is gone, and hearing gone, and the right
hand, lying powerless by our side, has lost its cunning, Jesus! then may we remember Thee! If the
shadows of death are to be thrown in deepest darkness
on the valley, when we are passing along it to glory,
may it be ours to die like that saint, beside whose bed
wife and children once stood, weeping over the wreck
of faded faculties, and a blank, departed memory.
One had asked him, " Father, do you remember me?"
and received no answer; and another, and another,
but still no answer. And then, all making way for
the venerable companion of a long and loving pilgrimage-the tender partner of many a past joy and sorrow-his wife, draws near. She bends over him, and
as her tears fall thick upon his face, she cries, " Do
you not remember me?" A stare-but it is vacant.
There is no soul in that filmy eye; and the seal of
death lies upon these lips. The sun is down, and life's
brief twilight is darkening fast into a starless night.




284          THIE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
At this moment one, calm enough to remember how
the love of Christ's spouse is "strong as death"-a
love that "many waters cannot quench"-stooped to
his ear, and said, "Do you remember Jesus Christ?"
The word was no sooner uttered than it seemed to
recall the spirit, hovering for a moment, ere it took
wing to heaven. Touched as by an electric influence,
the heart beat once more to the name of Jesus; the
features, fixed in death, relax; the countenance, dark
in death, flushes up like the last gleam of day; and,
with a smile in which the soul passed away to glory,
he replied, "Remember Jesus Christ! dear Jesus
Christ! he is all my salvation, and all my desire."
IV. By conversion man is ennobled.
Infidelity regards man as little better than an animated statue, living clay, a superior animal. She sees
no jewel of immortality flashing in this earthly casket.
According to her, our future being is a brilliant but
baseless dream of the present; death, an everlasting
sleep; and that dark, low, loathsome grave our eternal sepulcher.
Vice, again, looks on man as an animal formed for
the indulgence of brutal appetites.  She sees no
divinity in his intellect, nor pure feelings, nor lofty
aspirations worthy of cultivation for the coming state.
Her foul finger never points him to the skies. She
leaves powers and feelings which might have been
trained to heaven to trail upon the ground; to be
soiled and trodden in the mire, or to entwine themselves around the basest objects. In virtuous shame,
in modesty, purity, integrity, gentleness, natural affection, she blights with her poisonous breath whatever




THE NEW HEART.              285
vestiges of beauty have survived the Fall; and when
she has done her perfect work, she leaves man a wreck,
a wretch, an object of loathing, not. only to God and
angels, but —lowest and deepest of all degradation-an
object of contempt and loathing to himself.
While infidelity regards man as a mere animal, to
be dissolved at death into ashes and air, and vice
changes man into a brute or devil, Mammon enslaves
him. She makes him a serf, and condemns him to be
a gold-digger for life in the mines. She puts her collar on his neck, and locks it; and bending his head to
the soil, and bathing his brow in sweat, she says, Toil,
Toil, Toil; as if this creature, originally made in the
image of God, this dethroned and exiled monarch, to
save whom the Son of God descended from the skies,
and bled on Calvary, were a living machine, constructed of sinew, bone, and muscle, and made for no higher
end than to work to live, and live to woik.
Contrast with these the benign aspect in which the
Gospel looks on man. Religion descends from heaven
to break our chains. She alone raises me from degradation, and bids me lift my drooping head, and look
up to heaven. Yes; it is that very Gospel which by
some is supposed to present such dark, degrading,
gloomy views of man and his destiny, which lifts me
from the dust and the dung-hill to set me among
princes-on a level with angels-in a sense above
them. To say nothing of the divine nobility grace
imparts to a soul which is stamped anew with the
likeness and image of God, how sacred and venerable
does even this body appear in the eye of piety! No
longer a form of animated dust; no longer the subject of passions shared in common with the brutes;




286         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
no longer the drudge and slave of Mammon, the once
"vile body" rises into a temple of the Holy Ghost.
Vile in one sense it may be; yet what, although it be
covered with sores? what, although it be clothed in
rags? what, although, in unseemly decrepitude, it
want its fair proportions? that poor, pale, sickly, shattered form is the casket of a precious jewel... This
mean and crumbling tabernacle lodges a guest nobler
than palaces may boast of; angels hover around its
walls; the Spirit of God dwells within it. What an
incentive to holiness, to purity of life and conduct,
lies in the fact that the body of a saint is the temple
of God!-a truer, nobler temple than that which Solomon dedicated by his prayers, and Jesus consecrated
by his presence. In Popish cathedral, where the light
streamed through painted window, and the organ
pealed along lofty aisles, and candles gleamed on
golden cups and silver crosses, and incense floated in
fragrant clouds, we have seen the blinded worshiper
uncover his bead, drop reverently on his knees, and
raise his awe-struck eye on the imposing spectacle;
we have seen him kiss the marble floor, and knew
that sooner would he be smitten dead upon that floor
than be guilty of defiling it. How does this devotee
rebuke us! We wonder at his superstition; how may
he wonder at our profanity! Can we look on tha
lowly veneration he expresses for an edifice which has
been erected by some dead man's genius, which holds
but some image of a deified Virgin, or bones of a
canonized saint, and which-proudly as it raises its
cathedral towers-time shall one day cast to the
ground, and bury in the dust; can we, I say, look on
that, and, if sensible to rebuke, not feel reproved by




THE NEW HEART.              287
the spectacle? In how much more respect, in how
much holier veneration should we hold this body?
The shrine of immortality, and a temple dedicated to
the Son of God, it is consecrated by the presence of the
Spirit —a living temple, over whose porch the eye of
piety reads what the finger of inspiration has written
— "If any man defile the temple of God, him shall
God destroy; for the temple of God is holy, which
temple ye are."




And I will put my spirit within you-EZEKIEL Vxxxi. 27.
" THERE are three that bear record in heaven: the
Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost."  They form
the mystery of one Godhead, and act in harmony. As
might be expected, the divine record represents these
three Persons as all connected with, and co-operating
in creation. With the honors of a work, usually
ascribed to the Father, Paul crowns the Son. Mark
what he says of the Son-" By him were all things
created, that are in heaven, and that are in earth,
whether they be thrones or dominions, or principalities or powers;" and speaking elsewhere of God, he
says —" He, who at sundry times,. and in divers manners spake to our fathers by the prophets, hath in these
last days spoken unto us by his Son, whom he hath
appointed heir of all things, by whom also he made
the worlds."  Now, as to the third person, or Holy
Spirit, we discover indications of his existence even in
the Mosaic record of creation.  He appears in the
earliest epochs of time, and amid those sublime and
magnificent spectacles with which the Bible opens.
The curtain rises upon the first act of creating
power, and, through the enveloping shroud of darkness, we see the earth-a shapeless mass, crude and
chaotic. It is a world in embryo. " The earth was
without form and void." Yet at this early period,
when there was neither golden cloud nor blue sky,




THE RENOVATOR.              289
nor green land, nor silver sea; when no waves broke
upon the shore, and there were no shores for waves
to break on; when no mountains rose to greet the
morning sun, and there was no sun to shine on
them; when no wing of bird was cleaving the silent
air, nor fin of fish the waters; when-like the rude
and various materials from which an architect intends
to rear the fabric he has designed-the elements of
fire, air, earth, and water, lay mingled in strange confusion, through the darkness that lies on the face of
the deep, we discover some mighty presence. He is
moving and at work. It is the Spirit of God. He
presides at the birth of time. He is evoking order
from confusion, forming the world in the womb of
eternity, and preparing a theater for scenes and events
of surpassing grandeur. Concerning that early period
of creation, Moses has recorded this important fact"The Spirit of God moved on the face of the waters."
In this glorious creation, therefore-in this beautiful
world, and the starry skies that rose over it-we behold the mighty monuments of his presence and power.
He sprung the arch of this crystal dome, and studded
it over with these gems of light. Listen to the magnificent hymn of the Patriarch-" He stretcheth out
the north over the empty place, and hangeth the
earth upon nothing. He holdeth back the face of his
throne, and spreadeth his cloud upon it; he hath
compassed the waters with bounds, and divideth the
sea with his power. By his Spirit he hath garnished
the heavens." In the temple of nature, therefore, as
in that of grace, we adore a Godhead-the Three in
One; and see Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, the presiding and co-equal authors of a first creation.
But let us come to man. The pillar is finished, and
13




290         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
wants nothing but its capital; the house, built and
furnished, now waits its tenant. He is about to be
formed who is to be not merely a work, nor a servant,
but a son of God; a mirror in which Divinity may
complacently contemplate itself; a being who is to
exhibit what, amid their bright and beautiful forms,
neither sun, nor sea, nor earth could boast of-an
image of God. The crown of creation is to be topped
with its brightest gem. This province of the divine
empire is to be provided with a king, who, wielding
a delegated scepter, shall exercise dominion "over
the fish of the sea, the fowls of the air, the cattle, and
the creeping things." It is a great occasion. And,
as was worthy of it, the three persons of the Godhead
appear. God fashions the plastic clay into the form
of man, and molds those features which, given by
his hand, have descended to us;-bending over the
prostrate and inanimate statue, he breathes into its
hollow nostrils the element of life; rushing in, this
mysterious power sets its organs into play, and, as the
heart begins to beat, and the current of the blood to
flow, man opens his eyes in life and on the world;
but, ere this crowning act-ere, by this greatest act
he closes the drama of creation-addressing the Son
on this hand and the Spirit upon that, the Father
saith, "Let us make man in our image."
In many respects, the new creation corresponds
with that old one-the Paradise Regained with the
Paradise Lost. Man is the.subject of both; his good
and the divine glory are the ends of both; devils are
the enemies, and angels are the allies of both; the
Father, Son, and Holy Ghost are the authors of both.
Now while the first chapter of Genesis —raising a portion of the vail which hangs upon the mysteries of




THE RENOVATOR.              291
creation —shows us the Holy Spirit as an active agent
in that work, my text introduces the same divine
person, as discharging functions as important in the
more exalted and enduring work of a new creation.
The Father decrees redemption; the Son procures it;
the Holy Spirit applies it. For that purpose this
promise is both given and fulfilled-" I will put my
Spirit within you." In illustration of the doctrine, I
remark —
I. The Holy Spirit is the great agent in conversion
and sanctification.
Man cannot be saved unless elected, nor elected
without the Father; nor saved unless redeemed, nor
redeemed without the Son; nor saved unless converted, nor converted without the Spirit. Do you
ask why? Is there not a fountain opened to the
house of David, and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem,
for sin and for uncleanness? Is it not true that whosoever seeks salvation there, may wash and shall be
clean? Most true. Jesus has filled that fountain
with blood, and, once bathed there, the foulest become
white as snow. Blessed truth that fountain is free to
all; free as air, free as light, free as the waves of
ocean, where man, who parcels out God's earth, and
forbids other foot than his own to tread on it, claims
no exclusive property-where the beggar may go in
to bathe abreast of a king.
What need I more, then? you may ask. We require much more. Our necessities are those of the
cripple —of that man who, for thirty years, sat uncured by Bethesda's pool, nor took his anxious eye off
the water as he waited for its first stir and ruffle. The
healing of that pool was regulated by a law, and it




292         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
was this. Like an electric battery, which to one and
the first touch discharges all its fluid, this pool cured
but one at a time, and he got its benefit who first stepped in after the angel's descent. Whatever his disease
might be, he was cured. Was he dumb? he sung.
Was he lame? he leaped. Was he a cripple? he
shouldered his crutch, and walked. And why had
this man sat out these weary years unhealed? Had
the vision tarried, and was it the rare advent of the
angel to this pool which suggested the figure, " Like
angels' visits, few and far between?" Had these waters not been agitated at all for that long period of
thirty years? Often. Many a time this cripple had
seen the sudden spring, and heard the loud plunge, as
some neighbor flashed into the water; and as the cured
left the scene, many a time had he followed them with
envious eyes. Many a time had he witnessed proofs
of the healing power-the lame man bounding away
like a deer, the song of the dumb ringing out his joy,
and pallid sickness standing on the brim of the glassy
pool, and-as she contemplated herself in its mirror- -
smiling to see the light of her beamingeyes, and fresh
roses blooming upon her wasted cheek. Poor man I
why was he not cured as well as others? Ile was impotent, powerless; he could not go down unassisted;
and-one of the friendless poor, as he told Jesus —" he
had no one to help him in." Even so, although seated by the fountain, where sins are lost and sinners
washed, we need some one, so to speak, to help us in.
In the words of Paul, we are " without strength;" and
it is to help us to seek, to believe in, to love-in one
word, to embrace the Saviour-that God puts his
Spirit within us. For this end he fulfills the promise,




THE RENOVATOR.              293'B My grace shall be sufficient for thee, and my strength
made perfect in weakness."
In a preceding discourse, we compared the change
wrought in conversion to the removal of old, shattered
machinery, and the supplying of its place with a new
mechanism.   But what is mere machinery?    Just
what the new heart were without the Spirit of God.
Besides the machinery, we must have a moving power.
Of what use would be the machinery which is to be
moved, without a force adequate to move it? WAithout
a main-spring within the clock, however complete all
its wheels, pinions, pivots, and axles, these hands
would stand on the face of time, nor advance one step
over the numbered hours. So were it with the renewed soul without the Spirit of God to set its powers
in motion, bring them into play, and impart to them
a true and heavenward character. For this purpose
God fulfills the promise, " I will put my Spirit within you."
In order to illustrate this, and with God's blessing
fix it in your heart, let me avail myself of the element which gives a name to the Spirit, and which our
Saviour selects as his emblem-" The wind bloweth
where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof,
but canst not tell whence it cometh, nor whither it
goeth, so is every one that is born of the Spirit."
Here is a noble ship: what further does she need
to move her? Her masts are-all in; and her canvas
is all shaken out; yet no ripple runs by her side, nor
foam flashes from her bows, and she has no motion but
what she receives from the alternate swell and sinking of the wave. Her machinery is complete. The
forests have masted her; in many a broad yard of
canvas a hundred looms have given her wings; her




294         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
anchor has been weighed to the rude sea chant;
the needle trembles on her deck; with his eye on
that friend-unlike worldly friends-as true in storm
as in calm, the helmsman stands impatient by the
wheel; and when, as men bound to a distant shore,
the crew have said farewell to wives and children,
why lies she there over the self-same ground-rising with the flowing, and falling with the ebbing
tide? The cause is plain.  They want a wind to
raise that drooping pennon, and fill these empty sails.
They look to heaven-and so they may-the skies
only can help them here. At length their prayer
is heard; the pennon flutters at the mast head;
spirits of the air sing aloft upon the yards; the sails
swell; the wind whistles through the rattling cordage; and now, like a steed, touched by the rider's
spur, she starts, bounds forward, plunges through
the waves, and-heaven's wind her moving powershe is off, and away, amid blessings and prayers, to
the land she is bound and chartered for. Even so,
although heaven-born, heaven-called, heaven-bound,
endowed with a new heart, new mind, new will, we
stand in the same need of celestial influences —of
the grace and Spirit of God. That heart, mind, and
will, are the machinery, he is the moving power;
these the instruments, and he the agent.
This heavenly gift neither circumscribes nor supersedes our own exertions. These gracious influences
descend not to set us idle, any more than the breeze
blows to send the sailor to his hammock and rock
him over in the arms of sleep.  On the contrary,
long away, and wearying to be home, his eye often
turned homeward across the water's waste, he shakes
out every yard of canvas on the bending mast, and




THE RENOVATOR.             295
works the harder to gain the-full advantage of propitious winds. It should be so with us. May it be
so with us!   The more full the gifts and divine
breathings of the Spirit, the busier let us be-busier
in the use of prayer, of sacraments, of the Bible,
and of all those ordinances through which the Spirit
works, and impels souls onward and homeward in a
heavenly course.
Were God, provoked by our indifference, to withdraw or withhold his Spirit, would it not be with
the best of us as in a dead calm at sea? No progress would be, or could be made; or rather, with
the run of the tide against us-the tendencies of a
depraved nature and a wicked world working the
other way-instead of gaining ground, we should lose
the ground already gained, and drift astern. The
Bible says, "Remember Lot's wife." Here we say,
Remember David. WVith what full sail he is bearing on to heaven! how far ahead he has shot of
his countrymen and contemporaries,! But he enters
into temptation; yields to it; falls into sin; the
Spirit is withdrawn, and, although finally saved, how
nearly is he lost! What a fearful backsliding! what
an awful warning! and, yet-an example most encouraging to a penitent backslider-see how God
fulfills the promise, "I will heal thy backsliding and
love thee freely."
Let me now urge on you the advantage and duty
of improving to the utmost every season of heavenly
visitation. There are seasons more favorable and full
of grace than others. In this there is nothing surprising, but much that is in harmony with the common
dispensations of Providence. Does not the success
of the farmer, seaman, merchant, of men in many




296         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
other circumstances, chiefly depend on their seizing
opportunities, which come and go like showers-which
flow and ebb like the tides of ocean? The sea is not
always full. Twice a day she deserts her shores, and
leaves the vessels high and dry upon the beach; so
that they who would sail must wait and watch, and
take the tide; and larger ships can only get afloat, or,
if afloat, get across the bar and into harbor, when,
through a favorable conjunction of celestial influences,
the sea swells in stream or spring tides beyond her
common bounds. The seaman has his spring tides;
the husbandman has his spring time, and those showers, and soft winds, and sunny hours, on the prompt
and diligent improvement of which the state of his
barn and barn yards depends.
"Let it be," said the Lord to David and his men
of war, when-lying in ambush, and expecting divine
assistance-they waited for the signal of battle, "let
it be, when thou nearest the sound of going on the
tops of the mulberry trees, that thou shalt bestir thyself." Such a signal, like the feet of the angelic host
marching over the tops of the trees, heaven may
vouchsafe to us in some holy desire, emotion, thought,
which, if yielded to and improved, may lead to heaven;
but neglected, rejected, or repelled, may leave us to
perish in hell. In these, which occasionally come to
the most careless sinner, you hear the Spirit moving
-in them you hear the Spiritcalling. Improve them.
If improved, who can tell but it may be with you
as with one well known to us. She was a fair enough
professor, yet had been living a careless, godless,
Christless life. She awoke one morning, and, most
strange and unaccountable! her waking feeling was a
strong desire to pray. She wondered. It was early




THE RENOVATOR.             297
dawn, and what more natural than that she should
say, there is time enough-meanwhile "a little more
sleep, a little more slumber, a little more folding of
the hands to sleep?" As. she was sinking back again
into unconsciousness, suddenly, with the brightness
and power of lightning, a thought flashed into her
mind, filling her with alarm-this desire may have
come from God; this may be the hour of my destiny
-this, the tide of salvation, which, if neglected, may
never return. She rose, and flung herself on her
knees. The chamber was changed into a Peniel, and
when the morning sun looked in at her window, he
found her wrestling with God in prayer; and, like one
from a sepulcher, she came forth that day at the call
of Jesus to follow him henceforth, and in her future
life to walk this world with God.
II. God's Spirit is not only given to his people, but
dwells in them. "I will put my Spirit within you."
The communication between spirits, otherwise than
through the medium of matter, and our bodily organs,
is so great a mystery, that we are not prepared to say
how far unconverted men may or may not be "possessed of the devil." Of many a wretched slave of
vice, on whom tears, and prayers, and expostulations,
and rewards, and punishments, have all been tried,
and tried in vain, it may be said without exaggeration,
He is grievously tormented of a devil."  There are
incidents and expressions also in the Word of God,
which invest the subject of demoniacal possession with
a painful and very alarming interest. On one occasion Peter endeavors to dissuade his Master from the
cross, and stands between him and the salvation of the
lost;'whereupon, as if he saw the devil looking through
13*"




2T8 THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
a disciple's eyes, and heard his speech in a disciple's
tongue, Jesus turned on Peter, saying-" Get thee behind me, Satan." Again, when Judas received the
sop, it is said that " Satan entered into him," and immediately-as the ship turns to the helm, when a new
hand steps on board, and taking it changes her course
-he left the supper table, to do his Master's business.
Again, Paul speaks of a "fellowship with devils," a
" cup of devils," and a " devil's table." Who knows
but that those terrible spectacles of possession, where
the bodies of unhappy men were seized, inhabited,
tormented by unclean spirits, may have been visible
emblems of the unclean and unconverted heart? When
God left man at the Fall, and abandoned that heart
which had once been his holy and happy home, it became a vacant, empty house for Satan to occupy;
and, like bands of robbers, who haunt some ruined
castle, where power and grandeur and rank once resided, many devils may be secretly lurking in the dark
chambers of this desolate and dismantled palace.
We have sometimes thought that we saw the fittest
emblem of man's fallen state, in the ruins of an old
church. Now deserted, desecrated, defiled, what a
change is there! Save in the ivy, that like pity clings
to the crumbling wall-sustaining and vailing its
decay-and in some sweet wild flower rooted in
window sill, or gaping rent, beauty and life are gone.
Yet there, once on a time, many a beautiful babe was
baptized to God; there holy words were spoken;
holy vows were taken, and holy communions held.
There are eyes in glory that turn with interest to that
lonely spot-God and man often met within these
roofless walls;'" This and that man was born there."
But now the only sounds are the sighing of the winds




THE RENOVATOR.             299
or the roar of the storm —the hoot of the owl, or the
hiss of the serpent; nor life is found there now, but
in the brood of the night bird, which has its nest
among the ruins above, or in the worms that fatten
upon the dead in their cold graves below. "The glory
is departed." And once a shrine of God, but now a
deserted sanctuary, may we not write " Ichabod" on
the heart? The ruin resounds with the echoes which
the ear of fancy hears muttering among the desolate
heaps of Babylon- "Fallen, fallen, fallen!"
Whatever habitation the prince of darkness may
have within unconverted men-and however, also,
holding for a time some footing even in God's people,
he may raise up within them those thoughts of blasphemy, and desires of sin, which come as unbidden as
they are unwelcome-the saints of God enjoy a blessed possession. Not the angels, but the Spirit of God
inhabits them.  Heaven has descended into their
bosoms, and their bodies are become a holy temple.
God now in very truth not only dwells "with man,"
but in man. "I will put my Spirit within you."
He is enshrined within them; and as the soul dwells
in the body, God dwells in the soul. " Know ye not,"
says an apostle, "that ye are the temple of God, and
that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you?" Thus-although in a subordinate sense-the members resemble
their crowned and exalted head; their bodies, like his
own, are a temple, and the heart of the believer is the
happy, honored shrine of him whom the heaven of
heavens cannot contain.
Speaking of the man that loves him, our Lord said,
"We will come unto him." This promise is one
which he fulfills in the daily communications of his
word and Spirit. Earth has no lovers who meet so




300         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
often as Jesus and his bride.  The lowliest and
poorest Christian God honors with daily visits. He
comes at the time of prayer; he occupies the mercyseat at the stated hour of worship; and into the closet
where the good man goes, he goes along with him.
He is closeted there with God; and comes forth like a
warrior from his tent, inspired with courage, and
armed for the battle of life. Happy man! he sleeps
at night in God's arms; happy man! in every trial
he weeps on God's bosom! happy man! although his
fare be but a crust of bread and cup of water, he
dines every day at heaven's royal table.
Contented, not coveting the luxuries which wealth
commands, he has bread to eat and company to keep
the world knows not of; and, although he be the
poorest of God's poor ones, there are none of the great
ones of this earth, who, with their privileged and
prized access to court, move in such high society.
Could you see the angels who wing their flight to this
straw-thatched cottage-the telegraph of prayer, that,
with extended lines stretched up to the throne, is ever
working-the messages that go up, and the answers
that come down-Jesus himself descending to bow
his kingly head at that lowly door, with "Peace to
this house" on his lips, gifts in his hand, love beaming
in his eye and burning in his bosom, you would not
wonder how the poor pious man can suffer so many
hardships, and yet live so contented. Pitying the poverty of riches, the meanness of rank, the littleness of
greatness-envying no man his high acquaintances,
coveting no man's large estates-all he needs is to
wear his honors meekly; with a rank higher than
kings possess or kings can bestow, with a patent of
nobility that never can be forfeited, all he needs is to




THE RENOVATOR.              801
be "clothed with humility;" while he opens his heart
and invites his Lord to come in, all he needs is to do
that with the modesty of the man who said, " I am not
worthy that thou shouldst enter beneath my roof."
Here, however-as also in those words of Christ, to
which I have referred-God not only promises to
visit his people, but by his Spirit to abide with them.
"I will put my Spirit within you."  "Happy is that
people whose God is the Lord."  For who or what
else abides? Not our parents or pastors; the arms
that embraced us are moldering in the grave, and on
the lips that taught us knowledge the dust of death
lies thick. Our health may not abide; there is a
griefless, graveless land, where "the inhabitant never
says that he is sick;" but faith lifts her eye to heaven,
and seeks it yonder-not here. Our wealth may not
abide; and so one who, better than many, remembered
its uncertainty, when remonstrated with for giving
lavishly to the cause of Christ, replied, " Riches take
to themselves wings and flee away.;, and I think it
best to clip them." Our children may not abide; the
earth sounds hollow to the foot-it is so full of graves.
Ah! how few gardens are there where death has not
left his foot prints, when he came to steal away some
of our sweetest flowers. Few are the trees standing
on this earth, from which he has not lopped off some
goodly boughs. In this world, have I not seen one
and another stand bleak a.nd branchless; and Oh, how
blessed for the father who has laid the last survivor
in the dust, and returns from that saddest funeral to
find God waiting for him in his desolate home!
When the believer is alone, —God in his Holy Spirit
abiding with him,-he is not alone.  How happy,
yet'how strange a man he is! Those paradoxes by




302         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
which Paul describes him-" Unknown, and yet well
known; dying, and behold we live; sorrowful, yet
always rejoicing; poor, yet making many rich;
having nothing, and yet possessing all things"admit of important additions.  Kill him, and he
lives; bury him, and he rises; exalt him, and he is
humbled; humble him, and he is exalted; curse
him, and he prays for you; hate him, and he loves
you; an orphan, he clings to a living father; a widow,
she sleeps on the bosom of a living husband. " A
father of the fatherless, and a judge of the widow is
God in his holy habitation." Piety sits on a husband
or father's grave, confident in that living relationship,
and calm beneath the protection of him who says"You shall not afflict any widow or fatherless child.
If thou afflict them in any wise, and they cry unto
me, I will surely hear their cry. And my wrath
shall wax hot, and I will kill you with the sword;
and your wives shall be widows, and your children
shall be fatherless." Let a believer never count himself desolate. Let others never call him so. If thy
heart is right, it matters not how mean thy house
may be; God shall abide with thee there on earth, till
thou leavest this earth to abide with him in heaven.




[ will..... cause you to walk in my statutes, and keep my judg
ments, and do them.-EZEKIEL xxxvi. 27.
THE Divine Being has established certain laws —
some of a physical, others of a moral nature. And it
is as impossible to violate with impunity a moral as a
physical law; although the consequences in the former
case may be more remote, and the suffering may not
follow so closely on the heels of the sin. Solomon
asks, " Can a man take fire into his bosom, and not be
burned?"  "Can he touch pitch, and not be defiled?"
You at once answer no. He who walks into the fire
shall certainly be burned; he who falls into the water
shall certainly be drowned; and if any man were mad
enough to pitch himself over a lofty bartizan, he
lights not on the ground like a winged bird or angel
-he shall certainly be crushed to pieces. Not only
so, but a passive as well as active violation of nature's
laws is followed by suffering. He who resists her demand for sleep-he who turns a deaf ear to the calls
of hunger-he who denies his body the rest and refreshment that nature needs, must die. Now, no less
certainly shall he suffer who neglects or violates those
moral laws which have been established by the decree
of God.
It may seem a strange, and even foolish thing to
assert, but it is not the less true, that it is safer to
touch fire than sin, and safer in a sense to drink off a




804         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
cup of poison, than quaff the cup of devils. A man
stands a better chance of escape who violates a physical than a moral law. This is difficult to be believed.
And why? Just because, in the breach of moral laws,
judgment does not, as in the breach of physical laws,
follow speedily on the transgression, nor succeed it
as the peal thunders on the flash. Yet it is not more
strange than true; and true, for this plain, satisfactory,
and unanswerable reason, that he who made the laws
which govern the physical world, may modify, may
change, may even altogether repeal them. He has
already done so. Iron is heavier than water; yet did
not the iron axe swim like a cork at the prophet's
bidding? Did not the unstable element of sea stand
up in walls of solid crystal, till the host passed over?
Did naked foot, when bathed in morning dew, ever
feel the green grass cooler than those three Hebrews,
when, on the floor of the burning furnace, they trod at
once beneath their feet a tyrant's power and the red
hot coals of fire? Fire may not burn; and water may
not drown. He who gave their laws to these elements
may alter them as he sees meet; but that moral law,
which is a transcript of his own mind and will, is, and
must be unchangeable as himself. Be sure, therefore,
that you can not sin with impunity. Be sure that
your sin will find you out. Be sure that what you
sow you shall reap. Be sure, that although the cloud
is long of gathering, it shall one day explode. Be
sure that sin and sorrow are linked together by an
adamantine chain-a chain durable and eternal as that
which binds the creature to the throne of God. When,
therefore, Satan, the flesh, or the world solicit, remember, that if your weakness yields, you are more
certain of suffering, than you would be of burning the




-THE NEW- LIFE.            305
finger which you thrust into the fire. Sin is the fire
that a man can not take into his bosom, and not be
burned.
Do you ask, by way of objection, do not God's people escape suffering-commit sin, and yet escape the
penalty? True. But their exemption from future punishment forms no exception to this rule. In their
case, indeed, the debtor escapes, but then the creditor
is paid. The sufferings from which they are exempted
were endured by their substitute, and in a suffering
Saviour their sins were punished.  "He bore our
griefs, and carried our sorrows. The chastisement of
our peace was upon him, and with his stripes we are
healed."
Entertaining these views, we ought not to be suspected of losing sight of the dignity and claims of
the moral law in our faith in a crucified Saviour.
That holy law was not buried in Jesus' sepulcher,
nor left behind with the grave-clothes in the tomb.
We no longer hope, indeed, to be saved by the law,
yet we hold with the Apostle-hold as strongly as
any can do —that " the law is holy, and the commandment holy, just, and good," and that these moral laws
which were enshrined in the ark of Moses, and most
awfully illustrated on the cross of Christ, have lost
none of their authority. They remain to this day as
imperative as those which regulate the tides, direct
the procession of seasons, or steer the planets through
the realms of space. Obedience to the law has indeed
ceased to be the condition of salvation; it is well it is
so. Otherwise, who should have been saved?  If
thou, Lord, shouldst mark iniquities, 0 Lord, who
shall stand?"  "Enter not into judgment with thy
servant, for in thy sight shall no man living be justi



306         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
fled." The law is not now the gate of life; yet although it has ceased to be the gate, it has not ceased,
and never shall cease, to be the rule of life.  We
preach, indeed, a free and full salvation; and we
glory in the theme. We say that the greatest lawbreaker may be saved; the foulest sinner washed
white as snow; the basest of the base, the vilest of
the vile, exalted to a throne in heaven; and that as
no obedience rendered to the law since the fall of
Adam can open heaven to fallen man, so since the
death of Christ no disobedience can shut its gates
against him. We say with Paul, "It is a faithful
saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Jesus Christ
came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am
chief." Blessed be God, the law, so stern-like in a
sinner's eyes, no longer carries the keys of heaven.
Purchased by his blood, they are in the custody of
him who is very pitiful and of great mercy, and who
— never turning a deaf ear to the cry of human distress-cheers the expiring hours of guilt, and said
even to a thief, " To-day thou shalt be with me in
paradise."
" Do we then make void the law through faith?"
as Paul asks. Some have done so. Wild and wicked
fanatics have risen to trouble the church, and bring a
gospel of grace into contempt. They have asserted
that it has set them free from the obligation of these
holy commandments, and granted to believers a plenary indulgence to commit all manner of iniquity.
From  such licentious and immoral doctrines, from
doctrines not less calculated to dissolve society than
to dishonor the church of Christ, child of God!
shrink with holy abhorrence; this your language,




THE NEW LIFE.              307' My soul, come not thou into their secret; unto their
assembly, mine honor, be not thou united."
I know that Paul says, " We are delivered from the
law, that being dead wherein we were held;" but are
we delivered that we may sin? Assuredly not. On
the contrary, we are delivered that we may serve God;
serve him better, serve him holier; serve him, as Paul
also says, "in the newness of the spirit, and not in
the oldness of the letter." Addressing us not with
the voice of Sinai's thunders, but in the melting and
mightier tones of a Redeemer's love, the Gospel lays
this injunction upon all, " Be careful to maintain good
works."  These, although not always the believer's
attainment, will always be his aim. Committing to
his heart, and enshrining there those tables which
Moses, in honor of their excellence, deposited in the
tabernacle's holiest shrine, he will say, " 0 how I love
thy law, 0 Lord;" and he will pray that God would
fulfill to him this gracious promise of the text-" I will
cause them to walk in my statutes, and. they shall keep
my judgments and do them."
- In now addressing ourselves to the subject of that
new life, which the believer lives in obedience to the
law of God, I remarkI. It is a willing obedience.
Many movements take place in the universe independent of any will but that of God. The sap ascends
the tree, the planets revolve round the sun, the stars
rise and set in the heavens, the tides flow and ebb upon
our shores, and nature walks in God's statutes, keeping
his judgments, and doing them, moved to obedience
by no will but his. So soon, however, as, leaving inanimate matter below, we ascend into those regions




308          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
where mind, or even instinct and matter are united,
we discover a beautiful and benevolent law, by virtue
of which God at once secures the happiness and provides for the welfare of his creatures. He so orders
it that their will is in perfect harmony with their work;
their inclinations with their interests; and their instincts with the functions which they are called on to
perform. The bee constructs its cell, the bird weaves
her nest, the eagle among the crags above teaches her
brood to fly, and in cairn or. cave below, the fox
suckles her young; and these are all labors of lovelabors to which they bring a willing heart. Thus their
happiness lies in their work. And to ascend even
into heaven, this is no doubt the secret of its felicity;
for as the law of gravity extends itself to the most
distant stars, so that that which rounds a tear-drop
gives its shape to every sun, I have no doubt that this
law of divine power and benignity reaches the highest
and holiest existences. The will and work of angels
are in perfect harmony; therefore an angel's duty is
an angel's delight.
Observe, also, how, when God changes the condition of his creatures, he accommodates their will to
the change. Take, for example, that insect to which
I have elsewhere alluded. It comes from the egg a
creeping worm; it is bred in corruption; it crawls on
the ground; its aliment is the coarsest fare. In time
it undergoes its wonderful metamorphosis. The wriggling caterpillar becomes a winged and painted butterfly; and at this change, with its old skin it casts off
its old habits and instincts. Now, it has a will as
well as wings to fly. And with its bed the bosom of
a flower, its food the honied nectar, its home the
sunny air, and new instincts animating its frame, its




THE NEW LIFE.              809
will plays in harmony with its work. The change
within corresponds to the change without. It spurns
the ground; and, as you may gather from its merry,
mazy dance, the creature is happy, and delights in the
new duties which it is called to perform. Even so it
is in that change which grace works in sinners. The
nature of the redeemed is so accommodated to the
state of redemption, their wishes are so fitted to their
wants, their hopes to their prospects, their aspirations
to their honors, and their will to their work, that they
would be less content to return to polluted pleasures
than this beautiful creature to be stripped of its silken
wings, and condemned to pass its days amid the old,
foul garbage, its former food. With such a will and
nature as they now possess, their old life would be
misery-would be hell. WVould not the reclaimed
prodigal, rather than leave his father's table, bosom,
and love, for the company of harlots and the husks
of swine troughs, embrace death and go to his grave?
Even so God's people would rather not be at all, than
be what once they were. Hence, on the one hand,
their unhappiness in sin; and. on the other, their enjoyment in God's service; hence David's longing for
the place of ordinances; hence the beauty of a Sabbath scene, and the music of Sabbath bells, and the
answer of their hearts to the welcome sound, "I was
glad when they said unto me, Let us go unto the house
of the Lord."
Are you unconverted? Let this teach you what
most you need. To men who are strangers to the
happiness to be fbund in piety, and have their will set
contrary to the law of God, religion seems, and can
not but seem, a very sad, demure, miserable thing.
Oh! it appears a weary thing to be singing psalms 




810         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
-they would sing songs rather; a dull book the
Bible-a most uninteresting task to be poring over
these pages —they would prefer a novel or a newspaper. Rather than sit at the communion table, they
would be guests where the board groans with luxuries,
bowls flow with wine, peals of laughter follow the
bright flashes of wit, and thoughtless joy dances away
the hours. Earth's short Sabbaths seem long and are
weary; and it is a mystery which they can not fathom,
how, when they go to heaven (and who is not hoping
to get there?), they are to pass an endless Sabbath of
psalms, and songs, and such listless services.
No wonder, if this is your state, that piety has no
charms for you. Without the clean heart and the
right spirit, your attempts to obey the law must be as
unpleasant as they are unprofitable. It is hard to row
against the tide, hard to swim against the stream, but
harder still, under no impulse but the lash of a guilty
conscience, and the terrors of a coming judgment, to
attempt conformity to the will of. God. And, admitting your conformity to be much greater than it is,
what possible value can it have in the eyes of God?
If even we would rather do the work ourselves, or
want the work altogether, than have it done for us by
a sullen, sulky servant-what pleasure can God have
in your slavish service? I would not be served by a
slave; nor will Jesus Christ. His arguments are not
whips-his reasons are not blows-his servants do
not walk and work in fetters. IHe is the beloved sovereign of a people who are free, devoted to his interests, and ready to die for his crown. Ie measures the
value of services not so much by the work done, as by
the willingness to do it. They serve that wait. Then,
as the Apostle says,'Let there be first a willing




THE NEW LIFE.               311
mind, and it is accepted according to that a man hath,
and not according to that he hath not."
In short, the union between the Saviour and the
soul, like the marriage of Isaac and Rebecca, stands
on a cordial assent. " Peradventure," said Eleazer to
his master, "peradventure the woman will not be
willing to follow me."  " Then," said Abraham, "if
the woman be not willing to follow thee, thou shalt
be clear from this my oath." On this condition,
Eleazer sets off to woo and win a wife for Isaac. He
arrives at Nachor; he is introduced to Laban, and the
scene in that house at Nachor excites in us these two
wishes.
First, Would to God that those who hold a higher
commission, and are stewards of the mysteries of the
Gospel, were as intent on their office, as this steward
on his. Laban presses his hospitality upon him; the
savory meat appeals to his hunger; he has had a long
journey, and it is reasonable surely that he take some
rest, get the dust of the road washed from his feet, and
refresh exhausted nature before he enters upon business! lNo-Pattern of fidelity! He says-" I will
not eat until I have told mine errand."  And would
to God, also, that he who dealt with Rebecca's heart,
would persuade sinners to accept a better offerbacked by tokens of better love-and give us, as ambassadors for Christ in his love suit, that maiden's
ready answer. Isaac had sent a far way for her. She
saw his messenger; he stood before her, covered with
the dust, and embrowned with the sun of the desert.
She saw Isaac's love in these sparkling gems-the
golden tokens of his affection. Her. heart was won.
Fair and lovely pattern of faith'Whom she had not
seen she loved; she walked by faith, not by sight;




312         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
and paying a last visit to a mother's grave, forgetting
"her father's house and her own people," the companions of her youth, and the sweet home of her
early days, she turned round to her brother, and to
his question-'Wilt thou go with this man?" with
maiden modesty, but masculine firmness, she replied,
"I will go."
II. This is a progressive obedience.
To "walk," is expressive of progress in grace.
Walking is an act, and one not acquired in a day; for
the power to walk is not ours, in the same sense, as
the power to breathe. We are born with the one
power, but born without the other. Like every other
habit, walking becomes so easy by use, that we are
unconscious of any effort; yet step into the nursery,
and you see that this art, acquired by labor, is the
reward of continuous, conquering perseverance. In
fact, our erect attitude and progressive motion over
the ground-simple as they seem. —are achieved by
means of most delicate and dexterous balancing. The
marble statue does not stand erect without foreign
support; and you have no sooner raised a dead man,
and set him up on his feet, than he falls at yours, a
heap of loathsome mortality.
In beauty and splendor, the figure of my text may
yield to other images, expressive of a believer's progress-such as that of a seed dropped into the soil,
where, striking down a delicate fiber, and sending up
a green and tender shoot, it first rises into a seedling,
which the finger of an infant could crush, but which
grows, after a hundred summers have come and gone,
into a robust and lofty tree, that, with its roots moored
in the rock, lifts a proud head on high, and defies the




THE NEW LIFE.               313
storm. Or, such as that furnished by the birth and
growth of day, from the first faint streak of dawnwhen the face of morn blushes, as it were, to look on
the crimes of earth —to the moment when the sun
rises to bathe mountains, plain, and sea, in a golden
flood of light. In so far, however, as the setting forth
of one prominent and important feature of a believer's
progress is concerned, the figure of my text yields the
palm to none-nay, is perhaps superior to any. Other
images convey the idea of progress, but this, of progress accomplished by unwearied exertion —progress,
the triumph of an intelligent mind, and the reward of
a determined will. To explain this special point, let
me borrow an illustration from our Lord, when he
took a little child, and, presenting the blushing boy
to the wondering assembly, said, Masters of Israel,
doctors of the temple, priests of the altar, chiefs of
the Sanhedrim, behold this pattern; "whosoever
would enter the kingdom of heaven must be as this
little child."
In this image God's people find comfort and encourage
ment.
Does the infant who is learning to walk abandon
the attempt, or yield to despair, because its first efforts
are so feeble, and so often fail of success? If not,
why then should we despond, because, in attempting
to walk in God's ways, we often stumble, and not seldom fall? We-many of us, at least-are but babes
in Christ; and he no more gives up hope of his people because they fall, than the fond mother her hope
and confidence that this infant, who is now creeping
across the floor, shall one day stand erect in the beauty
of its form, balanced on firm feet, and with free and
perfect command of all its limbs. And why, then,
14




314         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
should we despond? Every man was once a babe.
Samson himself —the mighty Nazarite who burst asunder new-spun ropes like flax touched with fire-who,
with more than a giant's strength, wrenched the gates
-,f Gaza from the city's port, and, heaving them on his
Jack, climbed the steep acclivity-was once a feeble,
wailing infant, who could barely carry his own head
erect, and hesitated to venture from a mother's knee.
The believer takes a law of God, and tries to walk in
it-he tries to resist a temptation to which he has
often yielded-he fixes his eye on Jesus, and, fired
with a holy ambition, attempts to imitate him. He
fails. Repeated attempts and repeated failures cast
him into despondency. He lies where he fell. tHe
gives himself up to dark and distressing doubts.
Satan takes advantage of his failure, and insinuates
that he has never been converted-that his religious
impressions are a delusion-that his fair profession
has been a vile hypocrisy. In such distressing circumstances, our children become our teachers. God
ordains strength out of the mouth of babes, and the.
lesson of the nursery is invaluable. Learning in that
school that walking is a progressive and not a sudden
attainment, I get heart to say with David, " Why art
thou cast down, my soul, and why art thou disquieted
within me?" That to my soul, and this to the devil,
who stands brandishing his sword over me, when I
am lying with my back to the ground, but my eyes on
heaven, "Rejoice not against me, 0 mine enemy;
though I fall, I shall arise."
This image stimulates to exertion, as well as comforts
underfailure.
In attempting to walk, the child falls; there is blood
upon its brow, and tears in its eye. Does it lie there




THE NEW LIFE.              815
just to weep? By no means Looking through these
tears, and stretching out its little arms —if not by
speech, yet by signs that go to a mother's heart-for
it can pray before it speaks-it implores her help
Nor in vain. She flies to raise it; and when she has
stanched the bleeding wound, and kissed away the
tears, and soothed it in her gentle bosom, and it has
there sobbed out its grief, what then?  Recovering
from the alarm, and soon forgetting its wounds, it
seeks the floor again. Perhaps it has been taught
some caution-perhaps it has learned to cling more to
a mother's hand-perhaps it ventures less rashly from
her side; yet, moved by an indomitable will, see how
it returns to the attempt, tries it again and again, until,
after some blows, and many falls, it earns the reward
of its perseverance. Now, with bright health on its
cheek, with grace in every motion, and beauty in all
its attitudes, laughing in its joy, and luxuriating in the
exercise of its new-born powers, it runs "without
wearying, and walks without fainting."
We teach our children; let us here be their scholars,
and take a lesson from the nursery. Why, then, do
we.make so little progress in grace? Why at this
time of day, when some of us are bowed, wrinkled,
and grey, are we so unable to walk in God's statutes
-to keep his judgments and do them? It is not because our education has been neglected. It is not because any child has a mother so fond, so kind, so
quick to help, so able to raise the fallen and guide the
tottering step, as He who suffered for us more than
mother's birth's pangs, and feels for us more than a
mother's love. What child in earth's happiest home
enjoys a believer's advantages? "Happy art thou, 0
Israel? who is like unto thee, 0 people saved by the




316          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
Lord?   The eternal God is thy refuge, and beneath
the everlasting arms." Why, then, is the progress of
the Church so slow, compared with the progress of the
nursery? Why has child after child in our families
learned to walk, while the best of us are but creeping,
tottering, stumbling, on our way to heaven?
There are mysteries in grace; but there is no mystery here. The reason is plain. Every hour of the
day the infant is on its knees or feet; it falls, but it is
to rise; it fails, but it is to begin again; its very happiness and business lie in the acquisition of this power,
and the smile which lights up its beautiful face, and
its proud-like air when it can stand alone, or cross
the floor to throw itself laughing into a mother's arms,
show that its heart and happiness are in this work.
We say to God's people, "go, and," by God's grace,
"do likewise." Take more pains and give more prayer
to learn this holy art. Let the perseverance of the
nursery be imitated by the church. Let our knees be
as much employed in prayer, an.d our powers and
hours in attempting a holy life, as those of infancy in
learning to walk. Oh, if we would give the same " diligence to make our calling and election sure"-the same
diligence to " work out our salvation," I am certain
that we should be holier-much holier than we are.
Our life would present a happy illustration of these sublime and resplendent emblems-" Ye are the light of
the world:" " The path of the just is as the shining light,
that shineth more and more unto the perfect day:"
"They shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall
run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint."
III. This willing and progressive obedience is the
sign and seal of salvation.




THE NEW LIFE.              317
Am I a child of God? How am I to know that I
am? These are anxious questions with the believer;
and yet they are questions that admit of a very simple
answer. We have not, nor can we expect to have,
such a testimony to our sonship as the Saviour received
when he went up from Jordan, and the form as of a
dove descended out of heaven on his head, still wet
with the waters of baptism. By the descent of the
dove, and the voice of the thunder, his Father said"This is my beloved' Son, in whom I am well pleased."
And yet God's people enjoy that very same testimony.
The descent of the Spirit is still the evidence of sonship;-its sign, however, is not a dove perched upon
their heads, but the dove nestled within their hearts.
By his Spirit God creates them " anew in Jesus Christ
unto good works;" and by these-by the fruits of a
holy life, by the joys of a Holy Ghost, by the advancing stages of a holy progress-his Spirit witnesses
with their spirits that they are sons of God. A witness
this, as certain, and therefore as satisfactory, as the
voice of the skies, or the verdict of final judgment.
The fruit is now, as it shall be hereafter, the test of
the tree. There is no such thing as faith without works.
Without these, your profession is a lie, your faith is
dead, your hope is a delusion. It is a delusion and a
snare, like the phosphoric light, the product of putrefaction which, to the terror of superstitious peasants,
and the destruction of unwary travelers, gleams and
burns at night, above the pool in whose dark depths
life has been lost, and a body, evolving gases capable of spontaneous combustion, is going to decay.
Now as the fruit is the test of the tree, obedience is
the test of love; hear our Lord-" He that hath my
commandments, and keepeth them, he it is that loveth




318         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL
me." Do not mistake us. We do not mean to say
that any man keeps these commandments perfectly.
Alas! the history of the church, and each man's own
personal history, prove to our shame and sorrow, that
God's people may, and do fall into sin; and, but for
the restraining and constraining grace of God, would
fall into the deepest, grossest sin. Let the conviction
teach us to walk softly, humbly, circumspectly! Oh,
never leave God's side, nor let go the hand of grace.
Cling to Christ's arm, as if the storm of Galilee were
beating about your head, and every footstep were
planted upon a swelling wave.
I do not say that saints will not fall into sin, but I
do say that, even when they are so unhappy, there
will be an unmistakable difference between them and
the ungodly. Judas sinned, and went and hanged
himself; Peter sinned, and went out and wept. The
sins of saints are the occasion of saintly sorrows. God
shall see them at the fountain weeping and washing
away their guilt in the blood of Jesus; and to Jesus
himself they will go, to make on their knees the confession of Peter-Lord, I know that I have sinned, I
know that I am a great sinner; yet "thou knowest
all things; thou knowest that I love thee."
There is one test-nor any more sure in the laboratory of the chemist-by which to distinguish the
godly from the ungodly, when both have fallen even
into the very same sin. It is worth knowing, and
never fails. It is very simple, and yet a most sure
criterion. A child may comprehend it, and any one
may apply it. I pray you to apply it, not to your neighbors' cases but to your own-nor reject it because it
is humble, and plain, and simple, and vulgar, if you
will. It is the test by which you may know a sheep




THE NEW LIFE.              319
from a swine, when both have fallen into the same
slough, and are, in fact, so bemired, that neither by
coat nor color can the one be distinguished from
the other. How then distinguish them? Nothing
more easy! The unclean animal, in circumstances
agreeable to its nature, wallows in the mire; but the
sheep-type of the godly-bleats, and strives, and
struggles to get out.




(CONTINUED.)
I will......cause you to walk in my statutes, and keep my judgments, and do them.-EZEKIEL xxxvi. 27.
THE predestination which I believe in, is that of
Paul-" Whom he did foreknow, he also did predestinate to be conformed to the image of his Son." To
redeem us from the power, as well as punishment of
iniquity, Jesus died. For this his precious blood was
shed-for this the Spirit has descended. We are
"called with a holy calling;"-called to pluck the
love of sin from our hearts, to dethrone every idol
that usurps the place of God; and having nailed to
the cross the old man, with his affections and lusts, we
we are called to be like Jesus. His meat and drink
was to do his Father's will. He was " holy, harmless,
undefiled, separate from sinners." By this lofty end
of a good's man's life, by the regard which you cherish
to Christ, by the welfare of your soul, by the interest
of other men's souls, you are called to beware of every
thing which might blemish your profession, obscure the
luster of your graces, and hinder you -from walking in
God's statutes, and keeping his judgments, and doing
them. So far, therefore, as circumstances permit you,
"depart from evil," and in the choice of your company and companions, follow the example of David,
and remember the warning of his son, " I am a companion to all them that fear thee;"-" a companion of




THE N EW LIFE.              321
fools shall be destroyed." Shun the place of infection,
and-more than if they had plague or fever-the company of the infected. Avoid and abjure every scene,
pleasure, pursuit, which experience has taught you
tends to sin, dulls the fine set edge of conscience,
unfits for religious duties or religious enjoyments,
sends you prayerless to bed, or dull and drowsy to
prayer. As the seaman does with surf-beaten reef or
iron-bound shore, give these a wide berth; and passing on, hold away in your course straight for heaven.
Never fear to suffer; but Oh! fear to sin. Stand in
awe of God, and in fear of temptation. "Watch and
pray, that ye enter not into temptation."  It is not
safe to bring gunpowder within reach even of a spark.
Nor safe, however dexterous your driving, to shave
with your wheels the edge of a beetling precipice.
Nor safe in the best-built bark that ever rode the
waves, to sail on the rim of a roaring whirlpool.'The
seed of the woman has, indeed, bruised the head of
the serpent; yet beware! the reptile.is not dead. It
is dangerous to handle an adder, or approach its
poison fangs, if the creature is alive, even although
its head be crushed.
Let me also warn you that such a holy life as the
text enjoins, is impossible to all but those who are on
their guard against the beginnings of evil. Take
alarm at an evil thought, wish, desire. These are the
germs of sin-the floating seeds which drop into the
heart, and finding in our natural corruption a fat and
favorable soil, spring up into actual transgressions.
These, like the rattle of the snake, the hiss of the serpent, reveal the presence and near neighborhood of
danger. The experienrce of all good men proves that
sia is most easily crushed in the bud, and that it is
14'




822         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
safer to flee from temptation than to fight it. Fight
Like a man when you can not avoid the battle, but
rather flee than fight. Be afraid of it, avoid it, abhor
it; let your answer, as you tear yourself from the
encircling arms of the enchantress, and seek safety in
flight, be that of Joseph's-' Shall I do this great
evil, and sin against God?"
True, religion, however, consists not in a passive but
active piety. We are to walk in God's statutes, keep
his judgments, and do them. Our pattern is not the
man who wears a monkish cowl, and tells his beads,
and keeps his vigils, and goes through the dull routine
of prayers and fastings'within the walls of a monastery; nor she who, having assumed the black vail and
renounced the world, seeks safety from its contamination, or solace from its sorrows, within the cell and
cloisters of a convent. The pattern of a Christian is
that divine man, who-while he passed a brief period
of probation in the lonely desert, and often spent
whole nights on the mountain in. solitary communion
with his God-walked the fields of Galilee, frequented
the fishing villages on the shores of Tiberias, and was
often to be met with in Judah's towns, and on Jerusalem's busy streets. Our exemplar is he, who, wherever he went,  went about doing good," earning for
himself this noble opprobrium, " the friend of publicans and sinners."
Observe, that activity of Christian life is implied in
the very terms- of the text. Grant that we may
thereby be exposed to hardships and temptations,
from which a quiet and retiring piety might exempt
us. Still, a life of active service will be best for
others, and in the end also for- ourselves. A candle
set beneath a bushel is, no doubt, safe from wind and




THE NEW LIFE.              823
weather; but of what use is it? On whose work does
it shine? Whose path does it illumine? I would
rather burn and waste on some lofty headland to
guide the bark through night and storm to its desired
haven. No light shineth for itself, and "no man
liveth for himself." Besides, the very trials to which
piety is exposed on the stormy heights of duty, will
impart to it a robust and healthy character. The
strongest trees grow not beneath the glass of a greenhouse, or in the protection of sheltered and shaded
valleys. The stoutest timber stands on Norwegian
rocks, where tempests rage, and long, hard winters
reign. And is it not with the Christian as with the
animal life also? Exercise gives health, and strength
is the reward of activity. The muscles are seen fully
developed in the brawny arm that plies the ringing
hammer. Health blooms ruddiest on the cheek, and
strength is most powerfully developed in the limbs of
him, who-not nailed to a sedentary occupation, nor
breathing the close atmosphere of heated chambersbut fearless of cold, a stranger to downy pillows and
luxurious repose, rises with the day, sees the early
worm rise in the dank meadow, and hears the morning lark high over head, and passing his hours in athletic exercises, increases his strength by spending it.
Even so, the most vigorous and healthy piety is that
which is the busiest, which has difficulties to battle
with, which has its hands full of good works, which
has-I may say-neither time nor room for evil, but
aiming at great things, both for God and man,
promptly, summarily dismisses temptation, with Nehemiah's answer-" I have a great work to do, therefore I cannot come down."
This world-with so many living and dying in it




324         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
without God and hope, with the whole heathen world
still unconverted, with thousands and tens of thousands at home sunk in the deepest ignorance, and
slaves of the vilest sins, with members of our families
or of friendly circles far from God, and between whom
and us-terrible thought! —death would make an
eternal separation-has much need that we were up
and doing, and throwing ourselves into the cause of
active Christianity. Our opportunities of good are
many and multiform. A Christian man should feel
like some strong swimmer, who has hundreds around
him sinking, drowning, shrieking for help; the difficulty is to make selection, and on whose unhappy
head first to lay a saving hand. Amid such scenes
and calls, Oh, it is lamentable to think how much of
our time has been frivolously and uselessly spent.
"The time past of our lives has been more than sufficient to have wrought the will of the flesh;" to have
enjoyed our own ease, made money, and secured for
ourselves the comforts of life. To nobler ends be its
remaining sands devoted I Take Christ for your copy.
Run in God's statutes without wearying, and walk in
them without fainting; and let the day on which some
good has not been done to ourselves or others-some
glory won for God, some progress made in the divine
life-be a day mourned over, wept for, and this written down against it in the calendar of our life-" I
have lost a day." Our Christianity is a name, a
shadow, unless we resemble him who, being incarnate
God, was incarnate goodness, and of whom, although
he stood alone in that hall-without one kind or
brave voice raised to speak for him-there were hundreds and thousands to bear this testimony, that he
a" went about doing good," and was the friend both of




THE NEW LIFE.              825
sufferers and sinners. It is thus that we are to fulfill
the duties of the Christian life, and exhibit a living
picture of one in whom this promise is fulfilled-" I
will cause you to walk in my statutes, and to keep my
judgments and do them." In closing my observations
on this part of our subject, I remarkI. One of the most powerful means to accomplish
the duty of the text is to cultivate the love of Christ.
They who would live like Jesus must look to Jesus.
What effect will follow? Look at the sun-and now
to the eyes which have been bathed in his dazzling
beams, how do other objects appear? Why, all are
changed. They have grown dim, if not dark and invisible. Candles, that burned bright, have no flame;
flowers, that looked beautiful, have no color; the very
diamond has lost its sparkling. And could we see
Jesus Christ in the full effulgence of his Saviour
glory, all sinful and even all common created objects,
would appear to undergo some such change.
We see but through a glass darkly. The dimness
of sin impairs our vision, but were we to see Jesus,
as we shall see him in heaven, I think it would happen
to us as once it happened to a celebrated philosopher.
Pursuing his discoveries on the subject of light-with
a zeal not too often consecrated to science, but too
seldom consecrated to religion-he ventured on a bold
experiment. Without protection of smoked or colored
glass, he fixed his gaze steadily, for some time, on
the sun-exposing his naked eyes to the burning
beams of its fiery disc. Satisfied, he turned his head
away; but, strange to see!-such was the impression
made on the organ of sight-wherever he turned, the
sun was there; if he looked down, it was beneath his




326         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
feet; it shone in the top of the sky in the mirkest
midnight; it blazed on the page of every book he
read; he saw it when he shut his eyes, he saw it when
he opened them. It was the last object which he saw
when he passed off into sleep; it was the first to meet
his waking eyes. Happy were it for us if we got
some such sight of Christ, and this glory of that sun
of righteousness were so impressed upon the eye of
faith that we could never forget him, and, ever seeing
him, ever loved him. With Christ ever present to
mur mind's eye, then we should be able more fully to
Mdopt the words of Paul, and say, " the love of Christ
constraineth us, because we thus judge, that if one
died for all, then we are all dead, and- that he died for
all, that they which live should not henceforth live
unto themselves, but unto him who died for them,
and rose again."
Experience has proved that of all instruments, the
mightiest for conversion is the love of Jesus. It was
only "Christ and him crucified,"'that Paul was to
know and preach; and in every age of the church and
region of the world has not that proved the rod to
smite rocky hearts? Let me illustrate the fact by referring to oft-quoted experience of some Moravians
who had gone to carry the glad tidings of salvation to
the cold clime and rude savages of Greenland. For
what reason I know not, but it is a fact that they commenced and continued for months to preach to these
savages of their sins. They told them of the wrath of
God; they sounded Sinai's thunders; they blew its
loudest trumpet in their ears; they appealed to their
conscience, to their fears, to their self love and self
interest. They told them of a heaven above, with a
sun that never set, and of a dark and dreary hell




THE NEW LIFE.              327
below, where nor sun, nor hope ever rose; of fire
that burned and a worm that gnawed incessantly.
Thus they preached. But their preaching was all
in vain. The aspect of their hearers had its counterpart in the wintry landscape of these northern
regions; characterized by perpetual night-the intensest cold-death-like silence; a sunless sky; and a
sea bound fast in chains of ice. These good men
changed their plan. They chose another theme. Exchanging the law for the love of God, they preached
of Calvary, and expatiated on the love which brought
Jesus to a cross, and opened his blessed arms to embrace the world. The effect was almost as immediate
as remarkable. When summer came and the snows
melted on their hills, and, with sounds, like the salvos
of cannon that announce a victory, the ice broke on
these frozen seas; and beneath the beams of a sun,
which blazed at midday, nor set at midnight, the earth
-like a corpse come to life-disrobed itself out of its
snowy shroud.; and the sea, rejoicing in freedom from
its icy bonds, with tides that ebbed and flowed, once
more answered to the influences of heaven, and rising
to the wind, praised God night and day with the
voices of its roaring breakers, this glorious change
was but a picture of the melting, moving, transforming, regenerating power felt by the soul of the poor,
wondering savage, as he looked with weeping eye on
the love of Christ and the bloody cross of Calvary.
As the love of Christ to us is the mightiest power
to awaken faith, so in the love of our hearts to Christ
will be found the mightiest power to secure obedience,
and insure our walking in God's statutes, and keeping
his judgmerts, and doing them. Therefore, we urge
you to cultivate it; for



328         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
Love is the most powerful of all motives.
Samson's great strength lay in his hair. Shorn of
that, he was like other men. The Christian's great
strength lies in his love; and when Christ invites us
to sacrifices and sufferings which the world would
pronounce intolerable, love is ready to explain and
justify the language of his invitation-" Come unto
me, all ye that labor, and are heavy laden, and I will
give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, for it is
easy, and my burden, for it is light." On the back of
love the burden loses more than half its weight, and
the work that is done in love loses more than half its
tedium and difficulty. It is as with a stone, that in
the air, and on the dry ground, we strain at, but can
not stir. Flood the field where it lies; bury the block
beneath the rising water. Now when its head is submerged, bend to the work. Put your strength to it.
Ah! it moves-it rises from its bed-it rolls on before
your arm. So, when the tide of love goes swelling
over our duties and difficulties, a child can do a man's
work, and a man can do a giant's. With love in the
heart, "out of the mouths of babes and sucklings
God ordaineth strength." Strength! What strength?
Death pulls down the youngest and the strongest;
but love is stronger than death. She welcomes sacrifices, and glories in tribulation. Duty has no burden,
and death has no terror for her.
Look at that bird, which, with wings outstretched,
sits dead on the scorched and blackened tree. She
might have flown away in safety. The smoke below
alarmed her. Dashing through and through it on
frightened wing, she screamed, as, climbing from
branch to branch, the fire rose to her nest and brood.
She dashes right into the danger; and, perched on the




THE NEW LIFE.              329
brim of the nest-a tender mother,-she fans her
young ones with her wings. Now the flames lick it
with their fiery tongues-she leaves her perch. False
to her offspring? No. A true mother. She abandons it-not to soar away to heaven-but, as on dewy
nights and in happier hours, to seat herself above her
young to die with them; and, with expanded wings,
protecting them to the last-to be found dead with
a dead brood beneath her. I look on that-or I look
on this other mother, who stands with her child on
the side of the sinking wreck, to catch the last chance
of a passing boat. She catches it-not to leap in herself; but, lifting her boy in her arms, and printing a
mother's last kiss upon his rosy lips, she drops him in,
and remains behind herself to drown and die. Or I
look at that maid in old border story, who, having
caught a glance of the arrow that, shot by a rival's
hand, came from the bushes on the other bank, flung
herself before her lover, and received the fatal shot in
her own true and faithful heart. I look at these
things, and, seeing that love is strong as death, I urge
you to cultivate the love of Jesus, and go in its divine
strength to the field of duty, and the altar of sacrifice.
I do not say that you will find it easy to walk in
God's statutes, to keep Christ's commandments, and
do them. To pluck sin from a bleeding heart-to put
our right hand on the block and cut it off-to pull a
right eye from its socket, and put our foot upon it —
for a proud man to learn humility —for a lover of the
world not to love it-for one who has strong native
corruption to nail it to the cross, and keep it nailed
there till it die-when the path of duty is strewed
with flints and thorns, to walk over them with bleeding feet-is, and must be painful. There is no use of




330          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
concealing t; of denying it. No. But all the more
need there is that you inflame your love by looking to
Christ. Go often, and, with the shepherds, gaze on
the heavenly babe laid on a pallet of straw in. the
corner of a manger. With the disciples, accompany
him to Gethsemane, and sit beneath her hoary olives
to listen in the stilly night to the moans and groans
of the Son in the hands of his Father. Or join the
weeping women, and, with the other Marys and his
fainting mother, take up your station near the awful
cross, and meditate on these things till you can say
with David, "While I was musing, the fire burned."
Love is a motive to duty as pleasant as it is powerful.
Love weaves chains that are tougher than iron, and
yet softer than silk. She unites the strength of a
giant to the gentleness of a little child; and, with a
power of change all her own, under her benign and
omnipotent influence, duties that were once intolerable drudgeries become a pure delight. The mother,
for instance, away from scenes of gayety, without
which to others and once also to herself the cup ot
life was flat and tasteless, is awakened to new enjoyments. She never wearies watching by her infant's
cradle; nor does she grudge the nights of broken rest,
the toils, the cares, the troubles that creature costs her,
although these have blanched her cheek and paled the
luster of her eye. To cares that others would feel
irksome, she cheerfully devotes herself, even before
the babe can lisp her name, or reward her kindness
with a look of recognition and its grateful, winning
smile. Nor does the father weary of the toil that
wins his children's bread. The thought of these
strengthens the arms of daily labor, fires the patriot's




THE NEW LIFE.              331
zeal, kindles a soldier's courage, cheers the seaman on
his lonely watch, and reconciles thousands of our honest poor to a life of incessant struggle-carrying them
through toils and hardships, otherwise intolerable,
with a cheerful, contented, happy, singing spirit.
You would. think it a most weary and dreary thing
to lead the life which that mother passes. You think
so, because you do not feel her love. And it is just
because they are strangers to the love of Jesus-because they have never known him, nor loved him,
that many can not comprehend such things as-how
a pious life can be a pleasant one-how any man can
think that the finest music is the sound of Sabbath
bells-that God's is the best house-and the Lord's
the best table-how a man of exalted grace would
rather sit down with a pious peasant at the Lord's
supper, than at a banquet where he was the guest of
kings-and how King David should have thought a
day spent in the sanctuary better than a thousand
passed amid the stirring scenes of a camp, or the glory
and luxuries of a palace. They can not understand how,
unless they were fools or fanatics, the disciples should
leave the judgment-seat with bleeding stripes, and rejoice that they were counted worthy to suffer for
Christ; how Paul and Silas should have sung as
cheerfully in a dungeon as ever lark that shook the
night dew from its wings, and rose to greet the morning sun; and how the only fear of that brave old man,
John Welch, in yonder rocky prison of the Bass, was
lest, that when others were winning the crown of martyrdom, he should miss it, nor be counted worthy of
that bloody honor. But they, in some measure at
least, understand these things, whose pulse beats true
to the law of God, and whose heart burns with the




332         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
love of Christ. To the feet of love the ways of that
law are like the fresh and flowery sward, " ways of
pleasantness and paths of peace." Love changes bondage into liberty, and, delighting in that law which
was once to us what his chain is to the dog, what his
task is to the slave, and against which our corrupt
passions once foamed and fretted like angry seas on
their iron shores, she takes up the harp of David, and
thus sings its praises;-" The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul; the statutes of the Lord are'
right, rejoicing the heart; the judgments of the Lord
are true, and righteous altogether; more to be desired
are they than gold, yea, than much fine gold; sweeter
also than honey and the droppings of the honeycomb."
" Oh! how I love thy law, O Lord; it is my meditation all the day."
II. A powerful motive to the duties of the text lies
in the fact, that by our obedience to these statutes the
verdict of judgment shall be settled.
We are saved by grace, but shall be tried by works.
We are to be judged by the "deeds done in the
body whether they were good or bad." "Every one
of us," says Paul, " shall give account of himself to
God." Oh! how should these solemn truths hedge,
wall up our path to a close and holy walk in his statutes! The great realities of eternity are projected in
outline on the field of time, and this world lies under
the long, solemn shadow of coming events. Imagine
them come-the day of judgment come! For whatever purpose met, there is something most impressive
in the spectacle of a great multitude; that vast sea of
faces-that mighty aggregate of human beings with
living hearts, immortal souls, eternal destinies —all in
a few years to be dead and gone; and the joys and




THE NEW LIFE.             33
sorrows, the fears and hopes, that now animate and
agitate them, cold and buried in the dust. But how
unspeakably more solemn a world come from their
graves to judgment! and amid circumstances of terrible and transcendent sublimity-thunders that rend
the skies-the perpetual hills passing away-burning
mountains hurled into boiling seas-the sun dyingthe starry heavens rolling up like a scroll-and all
eyes fixed on the " great, white throne," which rises
in lonely majesty high above the countless crowd.
It shall be a solemn thing to meet the dead again,
and see those-father and mother, children, our brethren-who are now moldering in the dust. How solemn it was to part with them —to stand by the dying
bed, and look on as they passed away, till we heard
life's departing sigh, and saw the last convulsion
quiver on the lip of one that was our own. But the
meeting of those who, although lying side by side,
have been long parted-who, although their coffins
and dust commingle, have held no communion in
these silent graves, will be a more solemn thing; and
an awful thing, if we should meet, as many shall meet
-how dreadful the thought!-with mutual accusations and bitter recriminations; awful, overwhelming,
unless we meet with mutual congratulations, to spend
eternity together in a better than our old, earthly
home-in the mansions where friends meet to part no
more.
Still the solemnity rises. If it shall be a solemn
thing to find ourselves face to face with the dead,
how much more solemn to stand face to face with the
great Judge both of the quick and dead. We have
read-we have often thought of Jesus Christ, till we
felt as if we saw him. We have followed him in




834         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
fancy's vision through the checkered scenes of his
earthly history- along his rough and bloody path,
from the night that angels sung his advent, to the day
when they returned to escort the conqueror home.
WVe have seen his form stretched out-for want of a
better bed-upon the dewy field, or wrapped up in
coarse boat-cloak as he lay buried in slumber amid
the storm on Galilee. We have seen the eyes of pity
he bent on the weeping Magdalene-the expression
of reproachful love he cast on a recreant disciplethat dying look, so full of fond affection, which he
turned on a fainting mother. TWe have seen him
standing calm and collected before a prejudiced and
time-serving judge, patient-and self-possessed beneath
the bloody scourge, mute and meek before the frenzied
multitude; and as we watched the successive events
of the cross, we have seen the joy-typified by the
passing away of this eclipse-that gleamed in his
dying eyes as he raised them to heaven and cried, "It
is finished." We have often in fancy seen him. When
our dust revives, and the grave that is now awaiting
us shall give up its dead, with these very eyes we
shall see him-by the light of a world in flames we
shall see him, a God enthroned for judgment.
The day grows yet more solemn; its solemnity
reaches its highest point, and culminates in the momentous issues of judgment. It is God's day of settlement with a world that has had a long credit. It is
the winding up of this earth's bankrupt estate, and
each man's individual interests. It is the closing of
an open account that has been running on ever since
the Fall. It is the day when the balance is struck,
and our fate is heaven or hell; and what invests my
text with solemn and sublime importance is this, that




THE NEW LIFE.              335
by the manner in which we have walked in these
statutes, and kept these judgments, and done them,
shall our destiny be determined. The most common
action of life, its every day, every hour, is invested
with a solemn grandeur, when we think how they extend their issues into eternity. Our hands are now
sowing seed for that great harvest. We shall meet
again all we are doing and have done. The graves
shall give up their dead, and from the tombs of oblivion the past shall give up all that it holds in keeping,
to be witness for or witness against us. Oh, think of
that, and in yonder hall of the Inquisition, see what
its effect on us should be. Within those blood-stained
walls, for whose atrocious cruelties Rome has yet to
answer, one is under examination. He has been assured that nothing he reveals shall be written for the
purpose of being used against him. While making
frank and ingenuous confession he suddenly stops.
He is dumb-a mute. They ply him with questions,
flatter him, threaten him; he answers not a word.
Danger makes the senses quick. His' ear has caught a
sound; he listens; it ties his tongue. An arras hangs
beside him, and behind it he hears a pen running
along the pages. The truth flashes on him. Behind
that screen a scribe sits committing to the fatal page
every word he says, and he shall meet it all again on
the day of trial. Ah how solemn to think that there
is such a pen going in heaven, and entering on the
books of judgment all we say, or wish, all we think,
we do. Would to God we heard it-every where, and
always heard it! What a check! and what a stimulus!
Are we about to sin, how strong a curb; if slow to
duty, how sharp a spur. What a motive to pray for
the blood that blots out a guilty past, and for such




336         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
grace, as, in time to come, shall enable us to walk in
God's statutes, to keep his judgments, and to do them.
Do any flatter themselves that, as to their sins and
transgressions, God hath not seen, or doth not regard,
or hath forgotten? Most fatal delusion! "I have
seen all that Laban hath done unto thee," said the
Lord to Jacob in a dream.   "Surely I have seen
yesterday the blood of Naboth," are his words to
Elijah, when he sends away his ambassador with a
commission to throw down the gauntlet at a king's
feet,' and to proclaim war between heaven and the
bloody house of Ahab. Naboth has been foully murdered, but lies quiet in his bloody shroud. The crime
is concealed. Cunning and cruelty have triumphed;
and no living man now stands between Ahab and the
vineyard. His evil genius approaches his bed. "Arise,"
says his wife, " Naboth is dead, arise and take possession." The king rises, rides down in royal state to
Jezreel, and luxuriates among the clustered grapes of
his ill-got possession. Suddenly a man clothed in
rough garment, unsummoned, unwelcomed, appears
upon the scene, and intrudes himself on royalty. It
is Elijah. With steady step and stern look, he marches
up to Ahab, and, fixing his eyes on the quailing
coward, asks, " Hast thou killed and also taken possession? In the place where dogs licked the blood of
Naboth, they shall lick thy blood, even thine." Tread
upon a worm and it will turn on you. To be a king,
and yet be bearded before his court by this rude, unmannerly intruder, to have the damning deed-which
had been contrived with such cunning, and executed
with such success-dragged out from its concealment
by this bold hand into the light of day, to be
branded before his courtiers, and proclaimed through



THE NEW LIFE.              337
out all the country as Naboth's murderer, stirs-if not
the courage-at least the wrath of Ahab. With guilt
on his scowling brow, and malignant anger burning
in his eyes, he turns on the prophet, saying, "Hast
thou found me, 0 mine enemy?" "I have found thee,"
was the calm, terrible, intrepid answer..
Impenitent and unbelieving sinner! flatter not thyself that God hath not seen, or doth not regard; fancy
not that thy crimes are buried in a grave deeper than
Naboth's, and that, as the dust of death lies on the
lips of the partners or witnesses of thy guilt, therefore
you may be at ease, since the dead tell no tales. The
day is coming when every unpardoned sin shall find
out its father;-when what has been done in darkness
shall be revealed in daylight, and the word whispered
in the ear shall be published upon the house-top. We
shall be tried by our obedience to these statutes and
judgments. We have often disobeyed them, and if,
on that dread day, we would not have these sins to
meet us as Elijah met the king-if we would meet not
our sins but our Saviour, Oh let us have recourse now
to the blood that blotteth them out. Without a pardon, Jesus shall have no answer to us but one, the
terrible reply of Jehu, " What hast thou to do with
peace?"
-Peace!-Yes, there shall be peace-" Being justified
by faith, we have peace with God, through our Lord
Jesus Christ;" and the secret of our peace shall lie in
that which held up the head of a royal favorite, while
undergoing trial before his country for a very heinous
crime. Men wondered at his strange serenity, and
how he could bear himself so calmly. He passed on
to the bar without a cloud upon his brow, or an expression of anxiety in his eye, as he looked around
1 E:




338         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL
him on judges, accusers, the crowd of anxious spectators. The trial began.  His case grew darker and
darker-not so his aspect. Witness after witness bore
crushing evidence against him, yet the keen eyes of
his enemies could detect no quiver on his lip, or shade
upon his brow. Long after hope had expired in the
breast of anxious friends, and they looked on him as
a doomed man, there he was, looking round serenely
on that terrible array. His pulse beat calm, nor started
suddenly, but went on with a stately march; while
peace sat enthroned upon his placid brow. When at
length, amid the silence of the hushed assembly, the
verdict of "Guilty" is pronounced, he rises. Erect
in attitude, in demeanor calm, he stands up, not to
receive the sentence-which was already trembling on
the judge's lip-but to reveal the secret of this strange
peace and self-possession. He thrusts his hand into
his bosom, and lays on the table a pardon-a full, free
pardon for his crimes, sealed with the royal signet.
Would to God we all were as well prepared! Then
fare ye well, earth, sun, moon, and stars; fare ye well,
wife and children, brothers and sisters, sweet friends,
and all dear to us here below. Welcome death, welcome judgment, welcome eternity; welcome God and
Christ, angels and saints made perfect, welcome heaven.
In the grace that leads to a holy walk, in some measure of godly obedience to these statutes, in the faith
that worketh by love, purifieth the heart, and overcometh the world, have you the evidence that you
are forgiven? In these, do you carry in your bosom
God's pardon, ready to be produced when you are
summoned to trial? Look forward without fear to
the great account. These shall be witnesses that you
have received the righteousness which makes the




THE NEW LIFE.              339
sinner just. Best of all shrouds, may you be wrapped
in the "clean linen " of Jesus' righteousness! With
that robe around you may you rise from the grave!
-this your plea-" Almighty God! of my own works
I have nothing to say but this, What is bad in them
is mine; what is good in them is thine. Behold this
pardon-look on this robe, and know now whether it
be thy Son's coat or no."




THE
(atbl, Hafmftgi anbt        &t   r af Hni, r,
I will yet for this be inquired of by the house of Israel, to do it for
them.-EzEKIEL xxxvi. 37.
IN pursuing his voyage to the shores of the new
world the seaman steers southward. His object is to
catch the trade wind. It blows so steadily from east
to west, that having once caught it in his sails he has
often nothing else to do. With his ship's head set
before that wind, he is borne steadily along beneath a
brilliant sun, and gently wafted over a summer sea.
His voyage is one extended, happy holiday. The
thrilling cry of land comes at length from the out-look
on the topmast, and he drops his anchor in some quiet
bay of those lovely islands, where the waves wash
coral strands, and the breezes that blow seaward from
their spicy forests, come loaded with delicious perfumes.
It is not thus man reaches the shores of heaven.
That landing may be a picture of his arrival-the
voyage is not. In yonder vessel, which enters the
harbor with masts sprung, sails in rags, bulwarks
gone, bearing all the marks of having battled with
many a storm and ridden many a crested wave, and
on her deck a crew of weather-beaten and worn men,
happy and glad to reach the land again-behold the
plight in which the believer arrives at heaven. It is
hard work to get there? No doubt of it. Paul,
the man, in labors more abundant, in stripes above




THE NECESSITY AND POWER OF PRAYER. 841
measure, in prisons more frequent, in deaths ofPaul, the martyr, thrice beaten with rods, once
stoned, thrice shipwrecked, in journeyings often, in
perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils by his
countrymen, by the heathen, in the city, in the wilderness, on the sea-Paul, the patient sufferer for Christ,
of a life of weariness, and painfulness, and watchings,
hunger, thirst, fastings, cold, nakedness-Paul even
stood alarmed, lest he himself should be a castaway.
"The righteous scarcely are saved." The busiest in
praying, watching, working, fighting, are no more than
saved. O then, "if the righteous scarcely are saved,
where shall the ungodly and the wicked appear?"
My text summons you to prayer.. But does any
man think, that, by repeating a daily prayer-learned
long ago perhaps at his mother's knee, reading some
verses of Scripture, abstaining from grosser sins, attending church on Sabbath, and the Lord's table on
communion days, he is by this smooth and easy way
to reach the kingdom, and receive its crown?  What
says our Lord, "The kingdom of heaven suffereth
violence, and the violent take it by force;" it is the
prize of men who are valiant in faith and strong in
prayer-men like those who, at bugle's sound or flare
of rocket, rush from the trenches, and springing into
the deadly breach-leaping into the very mouth of
death-fight their way on and up till their flag of
victory waves above the smoke of battle.
Or, take Paul's figure of the energies and activities
of the Christian life. Look at these two men, stripped to the skin, who stand face to face, confronting
each other in the public arena. They have been in
training for weeks and months.  Strangers to the
pleasures of ease and sweets of luxury, they have




342         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
been on foot every day by the dawn. Abstaining
from all indulgences which might enervate their
frame, in hard bed, hard food, hard work, they have
endured every trial which could develop their muscular powers, and add to their strength. And now
these athletes are met to contend for the prize; foot
touches foot, eyes watch eyes, and their spare but
sinewy and iron forms are disrobed, that nothing may
impede the lightning rapidity of their movements, or
lessen the power of the stroke. The signal is given.
Blows fall thick as hail; and now the candidates are
rolling on the ground; now they emerge from a cloud
of dust to continue the fight, till one-planting a tremendous stroke on the head of his antagonist-stands
alone in the arena, and amid applauses that rend the
sky and waken up the distant echoes, holds the field.
At this moment Paul steps forward, and, addressing
Christians, says, So fight; so win. "They do it to
obtain a corruptible crown, but we an incorruptible."
Woe to the man, in these old games, who allowed
his competitor to catch him off his guard. Woe to
the man who turned to look on father, mother, wife,
or mistress. Woe to the man who lifted his eyes but
for a moment from the glaring eyeball of his antagonist; that moment a ringing blow fells him to the
earth-he bites the dust.
Not less does our safety depend on constant prayer
and watchfulness. "Be instant in prayer."  "Pray
without ceasing."  "Watch and pray."  Ah! you
will never have to offer Satan an advantage twice.
Should he catch you asleep, as David caught Saulwhen he put aside the spear of Abashai that gleamed
in the moonlight above the unconscious sleeper, and
whispered, "Destroy him not"-Satan will not be




THE NECESSITY.AND POWER OF PRAYER. 343
satisfied with carrying off spear and water-cruse, or
skirt of robe; he will not be content to prove how he
had you in his power, and that, like a noble enemy
who declines to take advantage of a sleeping man, he
had generously left you your peace and piety. Constant prayer, unceasing watchfulness, are what your
interests imperatively demand. These the Christian
life requires, and these the crown of redemption rewards. Observe how in my text God hangs all the
blessings of salvation upon prayer. He says-as it
were-I have had pity upon sinners; I have provided
pardon for the guilty, justification through the righteousness, and life through the death of my Son; I
have promised to take away the heart of stone and
replace it with one of flesh; I have promised my
Spirit to sanctify, sufficient grace, a certain heavenall these blood-bought, gracious, happy, holy blessings
shall be yours, freely yours; yet not yours, unless
they are sought in prayer. "I will yet for this be
enquired of by the house of Israel, to do it for them."
In directing your attention to prayer, let me noticeI. Nature itself teaches us to pray.
Like our intuitive belief in the existence of the soul,
or in man's responsibility, there seems to be lodged in
every man's breast, what I may call an instinct to
pray, and an intuitive belief in the efficacy of prayer.
Prayer must be natural, because it is universal. Never
yet did traveler find a nation upon earth but prayed
in some form or other to some demon or god. Races
of men have been found without raiment, without
houses, without manufactures, without the rudiments
of arts, but never without prayers; no more than
without speech, human features, or human passions.




344         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
Prayer is universal, and seems to be as natural to
man as the feelings which prompt an infant to draw
the milk of a mother's bosom, and by its cries to claim
a mother's protection. Even so man is-as it were
instinctively-moved to cast himself into the arms of
God, to seek divine help in times of danger, and in
times of sorrow to weep on the bosom of a Father
who is in heaven.
Nature and necessity have wrung prayers even
from an atheist's lips.
There was a celebrated poet, who Was an atheistor at least professed to be so. According to him there
was no God. Very strange! A rude heap of bricks
shot from a cart upon the ground was never seen to
arrange itself into the doors, stairs, chambers, and
chimneys of a house. The dust and filings on a brassfounder's table had never been known to form themselves into the wheels and mechanism of a watch.
The types loosely flung from the founder's mould
never yet fell into the form of a poem, such as Homer,
or Dante, or Milton would have constructed. The
rudest hut of Bushmen, the Indian's simple canoefashioned by fire from a forest tree, the plainest clay
urn, in which savage affection had enshrined the ashes
of the dead, were never supposed to owe their form
to the hands of chance. Yet this man believed (if it
is possible to think so,) that nature's magnificent
temple was built without an architect, her flowers of
glorious beauty were colored without a painter, and
her intricate, complicated, but perfect machinery constructed without an intelligent mind. According to
him there was no God-the belief in a God was a delusion, prayer a base superstition, and religion but the
iron fetters of a rapacious priesthood. So he held




THE NECESSITY AND POWER OF PRAYER. 345
when sailing over the unruffled surface of the iEgean
Sea. But the scene changed; and, with the scene,
his creed. The heavens began to scowl on him; and
the deep uttered an angry voice, and, as if in astonishment'at this God-denying man, "lifted up his hands
on high."  The storm increased until the ship became
unmanageable. She drifted before the tempest. The
terrible cry, "breakers ahead!" was soon heard;
and how they tremble to see death seated on the horrid reef-waiting for his prey! A few moments more,
and the crash comes. They are whelmed in the
devouring sea? No. They were saved by a singular
providence. Like apprehended evils, which, in a
Christian's experience, prove to be blessings, the
wave, which flung them forward on the horrid reef,
came on in such mountain volume as to bear and float
them over into the safety of deep and ample sea-room.
But ere that happened, a companion of the atheist —
who, seated on the prow, had been taking his last regretful look of heaven and earth, sea and sky-turned
his eyes down upon the deck, and there, among papists, who told their beads and cried to the virgin, he
saw the atheist prostrated with fear. The tempest had
blown away his fine-spun speculations like so many
cobwebs; and he was on his knees, imploring God
for mercy. In that hour-in that terrible extremity
-Nature rose in her might, asserted her supremacy,
vindicated the claims of religion, smote down infidelity by a stroke, and bent the stubborn knees of
atheism in lowliest prayer.
Danger may thus extort prayer; it does not follow
that God will accept it. How can a man expect to
have prayers accepted which are only wrung from him
by the hand of danger or the fear of death? Let us
15*




346         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
translate their language? Is it not this? I will serve
my lusts as long as I dare. So long as I can say it
safely, I will say-Evil be thou my good; my vices,
be ye my gods; I will turn to religion when I can do
no-better. Does Jesus stand at my door? are his
locks wet with the dews of night? are his limbs weary
standing? is his hand weary knocking? Till another
hand is knocking there-the loud, impatient hand of
death-Jesus comes not in. "What have I to do
with thee, thou Son of God?" With thy religion"Art thou come to torment me before the time?"
" Go thy way at this time: when I have a convenient
season I will call for thee."
In the name of reason, religion, gratitude, love, is
this the treatment which a Saviour deserves? Deluded sinner! "Is this thy kindness to thy friend?"
Beware! What if he should mete out to us the measure we mete to him? Remember the warning-"I
have spoken, and ye have not heard; I have called,
and ye have not answered; when ye speak I will not
hear; when ye call I will not answer. I will laugh
at your calamity, and mock when your fear cometh."
II. Some difficulties connected with this duty.
The decrees of God, say some, render prayer useless. Are not all things, they ask, fixed by these decrees-irrevocably fixed? By prayer I may, indeed,
prevail on a man to do a thing which he has not previously resolved not to do, and even although he
should have so resolved-man is changeable; and I
may show him such good reasons for doing it, as to
change his resolution. But if an immutable God has
foresettled every thing by an eternal and irreversible
decree, what purpose can prayer serve? Who shall




THE NECESSITY AND POWER OF PRAYER. 347
change the unchangeable? Thus men have argued,
saying —" What profit shall we have if we should
pray unto him?"
It were not difficult to expose the fallacy of this
reasoning. The objection may be entirely answered.
We might show that the decrees of God embrace the
means as well as the end; and since prayer is a means
of grace, being a means to an end, it must be embraced within these very decrees, and can not be excluded by them. I content myself, however, with
simply saying, that this objection is not honestly, at
least not intelligently, entertained by any man. For,
if the objection is good against prayer, it is good
against many things besides. If it stops action in the
direction of prayer-if it arrests the wheels of prayer
-it ought to stop the wheels of our daily business.
If a good objection against prayer, it is an equally
good objection to ploughing, sowing, taking meat or
medicine, and a thousand other things. Might not an
unwilling or indolent husbandman,.in spring, as well
ask, what is the use of sowing? Has not God ordained
every thing? If I am to have a harvest-if he has
decreed a harvest for my farm —then, although no
ploughshare turn up a furrow, nor sower walks its
fields, they shall wave in autumn with golden corn.
Or might not one, who sickens at the sight of nauseous
drugs, as well say, Take these away, I'll drink no more
of them. Has not God ordained every thing? Can
a sparrow fall to the ground without the Father? If
he has decreed that I am to live, come cholera, fever,
pestilence, I shall live; if he has decreed otherwise,
all the medicines of the apothecary, and the skill of
science can not avail to save me, or add one grain to
the sands of my existence. Did any man in his sober




348         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
senses ever reason so? With that simple question we
dismiss this objection.
Others, more earnest and honest, reading that
"without faith it is impossible to please God, reading
-and misunderstanding what they read-"he who
doubteth is damned"-say that, from want of faith,
their prayers must be useless. Most false reasoning!
What says the Apostle?- "I will that men pray
every where."   God will have all men to be saved."
We take, like little children, the simple word, nor
trouble ourselves with the metaphysics of the question.
If you were sufficiently alive to your danger, these
difficulties would have no more power to hold you
than the meshes of a spider's web. I knew of one who,
while wandering along a lonely and rocky shore at
the ebb of tide, slipped his foot into a narrow crevice.
Fancy his horror on finding that he could not withdraw the imprisoned limb! Dreadful predicament!
There he sat, with his back to the shore, and his face
to the sea. Above his head sea-weed and shells hung
upon the crag-the too sure signs that when yonder
turning tide comes in, it shall rise on him inch by inch,
till it washes over his head. Did he cry for help?
Does any man dream of asking such a question?
None heard him. But, Oh, how he shouted to the distant boat! how his heart sank as her yards swung
round, and she went off on the other tack! how his
cries sounded high above the roar of breakers! how
bitterly he envied the white seamew her wing, as,
wondering at this intruder on her lone domains, she
sailed above his head, and, shrieked back his shriek!
how, hopeless of help from man, he turned up his face
to heaven, and cried loud and long to God! All that
God only knows. But as sure as there was a terrific




THE NECESSITY AND POWER OF PRAYER. 349
struggle, so sure, while he watched the waters rising
inch by inch, these cries never ceased till the wave
swelled up, and washing the dying prayer from his
lips, broke over his head with a melancholy moan.
There was no help for him. There is help for us,
although fixed in sin as fast as that man in the rock.
Whether we have true faith, may be a question which
is not easily settled; but to pray is a clear and commanded duty. The " help, Oh, help, Lord," never yet
rose from an anxious heart, but it was heard, and accepted in heaven. And if Satan bids me hold my
peace-as the disciples bade the blind man-I bid him
hold his own. I refuse to be silent; I but cry the
louder, "Jesus, thou Son of David, have mercy on
me." In God's hands, when he in smiting, let me be
" dumb, opening not the mouth." In my Father's
arms I may lie and do nothing but weep-weep upon
his loving bosom; but in the arms of this mortal and
malignant enemy, who has seized me, and is carrying
me off to prison and pit-a lamb bleating in the lion's
jaws —" I will cry unto the Lord, and he will answer
me, and send help from above, and deliver me."
III. Prayer must be earnest.
The public become suspicious even of good money
when coiners have pushed their base metal into wide
circulation. Even so, religion falls into disrepute, and
the character of piety suffers in the eyes of the world,
when the church swarms with pretenders and false
professors. And in like manner, the value of prayer
has fallen in the eyes of men in consequence of many
prayers which are offered, being rejected by God, because they are not genuine Hence prayer comes to
be held in light esteem, and-if I might so speakthe bills drawn on the bank of heaven being dishon



350         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
ored, man says-" Who is the Lord, that I should serve
him, or what profit shall I have if I pray unto him?"
Among other gross and venal impieties, the Church
of Rome sells prayers. By her prayer-market she
converts God's house into a house of merchandise and
a den of thieves. Her prayers-although their price,
like that of other goods, varies with the localitymay be bought for money, under this general rule of
the market, that the praying shall correspond to the
paying. The rude Tartar saves his money by a practice that achieves the object just as well, or rather that
fails as completely to do any thing but deceive the
blind. He cuts a cylinder from  a block of wood.
Upon its surface he writes a series of prayers; and
then he runs an axle through the cylinder, and fitting
it up so that it shall keep turning like a mill-wheel in
the running stream, he sets it in motion. He goes
away on his hunt, to the pursuit of war, business, or
pleasure, and reckons that, whether he sleeps or wakes
as the wheel goes round, and the prayers in its revolution turn up to the eye of the skies, heaven reads them
there, and God accepts the prayers of the dead cylinder for the desires of a living heart.
Prayers without wishes are like birds without wings;
while the eagle soars away to heaven, these never leave
the ground. It is the heart that prays-not the knees,
nor the hands, nor the lips. Have not I seen a dumb
man, who stood with his back to the wall, beg as well
with his imploring eye and open hand, as one that had
a tongue to speak? If you would have your prayers
accepted, they must be arrows shot from the heart.
None else mount to the throne of God. You may
repeat your prayers every day; you may be punctual
as a Mohammedan who, at the Mollah's call from the
minaret of the mosque, drops on his knees in public




THE NECESSITY AND POWER OF PRAYER. 351
assembly or the crowded street. What then? The
prayer of the lip, tongue, memory, of the wandering
mind, in its dead formality, are, in the sight of God,
no better than the venal prayers of Rome, or the revolutions of the Tartar's wheel. "The sacrifice of the
hypocrite is an abomination to the Lord."
Would you see true prayer-would you know what
prayer really is? step into this Egyptian palace where
Benjamin stands bound-his amazed and trembling
brothers grouped around the lad? Judah advances.
He bows himself before Joseph. His heart is full.
His lip trembles. The tear glistens in his manly eye;
and now, with tenderness thrilling in every tone, he
pours forth this plea of surpassing pathos-" Oh my
lord, let thy servant, I pray thee, speak a word in my
lord's ears, and let not thine anger burn against thy
servant: My lord asked his servants, saying, Have
ye a father, or a brother? and we said unto my lord,
We have a father, an old man, and a child of his old
age, a little one; and his brother is dead; and he
alone is left of his mother, and his father loveth him."
Thus on he goes; and every sentence goes like a knife
into Joseph's heart. And then he closes and crowns
his appeal with this most brave and generous proposal, "Now, therefore, I pray thee, let thy servant
abide instead of the lad, a bondsman to my lord; for
how shall I go to my father, and the lad be not with
me, lest I see the evil that shall come on my father?"
Joseph's heart; which has been swelling with emotion,
is now ready to burst. He can stand it no longer;
nor any wonder. That is prayer; and could we bring
such earnestness to Jesus, Oh, how would his tender,
much more tender heart melt, like wax, before it.
Did we approach him with the fervor that glowed and




352         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
burned in Judah's speech; did we plead for our own
souls or those of others, with such tears, in such tones,
as Judah's when he pleaded for Benjamin, how would
a divine brother discover himself to us.
Now turn from thati:Egyptian to this Hebrew palace. There also is prayer. Two women stand before
King Solomon. In the darkness of the night one has
crept, with noiseless step, to her neighbor's bed, and
while the mother slept, and the babe slept in her
bosom, softly, cautiously, she steals the living child,
and leaves her own cold, dead infant in its place.
They carry the dispute to Solomon-each claiming the
living, and each repudiating the dead. With a skill
that earned him his world-wide fame, the wise monarch
summons nature as a witness. Horrible to hear, he
orders the living child to be divided.  The sword is
raised-another moment, and each mother gets a
quivering half-another moment, and interference
comes too late. One stands calm, firm, collected,
looking on with a cruel eye. With a bound that carries her to his feet, and a shriek that rings wild and
high over all the palace, the other-the true mother
-clasps her hands in agony, and cries-"Oh, my lord,
give her the living child, in no wise slay it." That is
prayer. That cry, that spring, that look of anguishall these proclaim the mother-how different from the
cold, callous, unimpassioned frame in which, alas! the
best too often present themselves at the throne of
grace, as if, when we are seeking pardon, it were a
matter of supreme indifference whether our prayer
were or were not answered. Oh! how should we pray
that God would help us to pray, and touch our icy
lips with a live coal from off his altar.




THE NECESSITY AND POWER OF PRAYER. 353
IV. Prayer is powerful.
An angel, says our great poet, keeping ward and
watch on the battlements of heaven, caught sight of
Satan as he flew on broad wing from hell to this
world of ours. The celestial sentinel shot down like
a sunbeam to the earth, and communicated the alarm
to the guard at the gates of paradise. Search was
made for the enemy, but for a time without success.
Ithuriel entered the bower, whose flowery roof "showered roses which the morn repaired," and where our
first parents, "lulled by nightingales, embracing,
slept." There he saw a toad sitting, squat by the ear
of Eve. His suspicions were awakened. In his hand
was a spear that had the celestial power of revealing
truth, unmasking falsehood, and making all things to
stand out in their genuine colors. He touched the
reptile with it. That instant the toad-which was
breathing horrid dreams into the ear of Eve-changed
its shape, and there, confronting him face to face,
stood the proud, malignant, haughty form of the
Prince of Darkness.
With such a spear as that with which Milton, in this
flight of fancy, arms Ithuriel, prayer arms us. Are
we in doubt whether a thing is right or wrong?
Are we indulging in pleasures, or engaged in pursuits,
with which we are not altogether satisfied, and yet
are not ready decidedly to condemn, and promptly to
abandon? In any matter of Christian morals, are we
halting between two opinions? The simplest and
shortest way of determining the doubt is to apply the
test of prayer. Take the subject to God. Look at
your pleasures and your practices in the light of his
countenance. Examine the matter on your knees.
Can you make it a subject of prayer? Ah I be sure




354         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
you are not safe in the place to which you can not ask
God to accompany you. Be sure that that good (as
the world may call it) is bad-that pursuit or enjoyment, however gainful or pleasant, is an evil-upon
which you can not implore God's blessing, and for
which you dare not go to a throne of grace, and give
God thanks.
Is this test of universal application? is every thing,
then, to be made a subject of prayer? Certainly. So
thought Fowell Buxton, even of those amusements
with which, in holiday times, he was wont to brace
up mind and body for noble labors in the cause of
God and his country. So thought that Corsican
patriot, who never went down to battle till he had
gone down to his knees, nor ever leveled a rifle that
never missed, without praying for the soul he was
about to send into eternity. And so speaks Paul,
when, linking peace and prayer together, he writes"Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by
prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your
requests be made known unto God; and the peace of
God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your
heart and minds, through Jesus Christ."
Such is one of the indirect uses, and not unimportant effects of prayer. Its direct power is, in a sense,
omnipotent. Prayer moves the hand that moves the
world. It secures for the believer the resources of
Divinity. What battles has it not fought! what victories has it not won! what burdens has it not carried! what wounds has it not healed! what griefs has
it not assuaged! It is the wealth of poverty; the
refuge of affliction; the strength of weakness; the
light of darkness. It is the oratory that gives power
to the pulpit; it is the hand that strikes down Satan,




THE NECESSITY AND POWER OF PRAYER. 355
and breaks the fetters of sin; it turns the scales of
fate more than the edge of the sword, the craft of
statesmen, or the weight of scepters; it has arrested
the wing of time, turned aside the very scythe of
death, and discharged heaven's frowning and darkest
cloud in a shower of blessings.
Prayer changes impotence into omnipotence; for,
commanding the resources of Divinity, there is nothing
it can not do, and there is nothing it need want. It
has just two limits. The first is, that its range is confined to the promises; but, within these, what a bank
of wealth, what a mine of mercies, what a store of
blessings! The second is, that God will grant or
deny our requests as is best for his glory and our
good. And who that knows how we are, in a sense,
but children, would wish it otherwise? My little
child is angry when I pluck a knife from his hands;
he doubts his father's love because he does not always
kiss, but sometimes corrects him; and, turning away
his head from the nauseous drug, he must be coaxed
-sometimes compelled to drink the cup which, although bitter to the taste, is the restorative of health.
Who that sees the child seek meat when he needs
medicine, eagerly clutch at tempting but unripe fruit,
prefer play, and go weeping to school, reject simple
but healthful fare for some luscious, but noxious luxury, who, I say, does not feel thankful that God reserves the right of refusal, and makes his answers correspond to our wants rather than to our wishes?
This limit to prayer may make poverty our lot; may
bind us to a sick bed; may leave us to suffer and
bleed under the stroke of an impending calamity;
but-while we will get as much of earth as we need
on earth-for the pardon of sin, for peace of con



356         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
science, for purity of heart, for growth in grace, for
all that we need to make us meet for heaven, and at
length, for insuring heaven itself, prayer secures to
us the help and hand of Omnipotence.
By prayer, besides, God's children can reckon on
immediate assistance. Prayer flies where the eagle
never flew; and rises on wings broader and stronger
than an angel's. It travels further and faster than
light. Iising from the heart of a believer, it shoots
away beyond that starry sky, and, reaching the throne,
enters into the ear of God. So soon as the heart
begins to work on earth, it moves the hand of God in
heaven; and, ere the prayer has left the lips of faith,
Jesus has presented it to his Father, and secured its
answer. It is a telegraph stretched not between shore
and shore —the mother country and her distant colonies, the seat of government and the far-off scene of
battle-but its extended lines connect heaven and
earth, man and God, the sinner and the Saviour, the
humblest home of piety and a throne of grace.
That high invention of human genius, which, by
its wires of iron connects distant countries together,
and has, in a sense, abolished both time and spaceoffers but an imperfect image of a power which piety
has been working before science was born-nay, ever
since the world began. From remote regions the electric telegraph may convey to a father the tidings that
his child is ill; but it carries not the physician to his
side, nor the drug of potent virtue which could cure
his malady. It leaves him to die. It may bring to-night
a detail of the fortunes of the war. Along it our army
may send a cry for help-for more men and more
munitions; but days and weeks must elapse, and many
miles of ocean be traveled, ere ever our ships can




THE NECESSITY AND POWER OF PRAYER. 357
pour their bayonets on the hostile shore; and then it
may be too late; the tide may have ebbed that, taken
at the full, had led on to fortune.
But does God never make his people wait? He does.
Faith and patience are put upon their trial; there is
no answer, nor reply, nor relief. God is silent, and
the church is left to cry, " How long, O Lord, how
long?" All true. Jesus addresses to his Bride the
language he of old used to his mother, "Woman, my
hour is not yet come." But let us need present help,
and you shall see that he is " a very present help in
time of trouble." Let the disciple be sinking amid
the waves of Galilee, crying, "I perish"-let the
prophet be on his knees in the depths of the sea and
the dark belly of the whale-let the widow's last mite,
and the barrel's last handful have come-let the confessor be descending into the lions' roaring den —let
the queen have her brave hand upon the door, with
these words of high resolve upon her lips, " If I perish, I perish"-let the trembling host have the waters
of the Red Sea roaring in their front, and the chariots
of Egypt pressing on their rear-let God's people
have reached such a crisis-let them stand in any
such predicament-and his answer anticipates their
prayer. The supply is on the road before the want is
expressed; the door opens before the hand has struck
it; while prayer is traveling up the one line, the answer is speeding down the other. Hear the voice of
the Lord, " It shall come to pass; before they call I will
answer, and while they are yet speaking, I will hear."
V. Prayer is confident.
In speaking of Christ Jesus our Lord, Paul says,
"In whom we have boldness and access with confidence




358         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL
by the faith of him;" Jesus, our High Priest, has entered within the vail, and having reconciled us to God,
we have boldness to enter into the holiest by the blood
of Jesus;" "Seeing, then, that we have a great High
Priest, that is passed into the heavens, Jesus, the Son
of God, let us hold fast our profession. For we have
not an High Priest which can not be touched with the
feelings of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin. Let us, therefore,
come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may
obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need."
It is easy to know the knock of a beggar at one's
door. Low, timid, hesitating, it seems to say, I have
no claim on the kindness of this house; I may be told
I come too often; I may be treated as a troublesome
and unworthy mendicant; the door may.be flung in
my face by some surly servant. How different, on his
return from school, the loud knocking, the bounding
step, the joyous rush of the child into his father's
presence, and, as he climbs his knee, and flings his
arms round his neck, the bold face and ready tongue
with which he reminds his father of some promised
favor? Now, why are God's people bold?    Glory
to God in the highest! To a Father in God, to an elder
brother in Christ, Faith conducts our steps in prayer;
therefore, in an hour of need, Faith, bold of spirit,
raises her suppliant hands, and cries up to God, " Oh
that thou wouldst rend the heavens, and come down."
I think that I see the sneer curling on the skeptic's
lip as he says, How absurd! What presumption!
as if it were not below the dignity of Divinity to come
at king's or peasant's, prince's or pauper's call.
Should the lofty purposes of the Eternal be shaped
by your petitions? Creature of a day and of the dustl




THE NECESSITY AND POWER OF PRAYER. 359
what are you, that the universe should be steeredits helm moved this or that way for your sake? Well,
no doubt the language is bold; yet with God a Father,
our Father, my Father in Christ, I feel I can be bold
and confident in prayer. I know a father's heart.
Have I not seen the quiver of a father's lip, the tear
start into his eye, and felt his heart in the grasp of his
hand, when I expressed some good hope of a fallen
child? Have I not seen a mother, when her infant
was tottering in the path of mettled coursers, with foam
spotting their necks, and fire flying from their feet,
dash like a hawk across the path, and pluck him from
instant death? Have I not seen a mother, who sat at
the coffin-head, pale, dumb, tearless, rigid, terrible in
grief, spring from her chair, seize the coffin which we
were carrying away, and, with shrieks fit to pierce a
heart of stone, struggle to retain her dead?
If we, that are but worms of the earth, will peril
life for our children, and, when they are moldered
into dust, can not think of our dead, nor visit their
cold and lonesome grave, but our breasts are wrung,
and our wounds bleed forth afresh, can we adequately
conceive or measure, far less exaggerate —even with
our fancy at its highest strain, the paternal love of
God? Talk not of what you suppose to be the dignity
of Divinity. Talk not of the calm, lofty, dignified
demeanor which becomes a king, who sees his child
borne off on the stream that sweeps his palace wall,
The king is at once sunk in the father. Divesting
himself of his trappings-casting away scepter, robe
of gold, and jeweled crown, he at once rushes forth
to leap into the boiling flood. Lives there a father
with heart so dead that he would not, at the sight of
a child fallen overboard, and struggling with death,




360         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
back every sail, and, whatever might be the mission
on which his ship was bound, or whatever the risk he
ran, would not put up her helm, and, pale with dread,
steer for the waves were his boy was sinking?
Child of God! pray on.  God's people are more
dear to him than our children can be to us. He regards them with more complacency than all the shining
orbs of that starry firmament. They were bought at
a price higher than would purchase the dead matter
of ten thousand worlds. He cares more for his humblest, weakest child, than for all the crowned heads
and great ones of earth, and takes a deeper interest in
the daily fortunes of a pious cottage than in the fall
and rise of kingdoms.
Child of God! pray on. By prayer thy hand can
touch the stars, thy arm stretch up to heaven. Nor
let thy holy boldness be dashed by the thought that
prayer has no power to bend these skies, and bring
down thy God. When I pull on the rope which
fastens my frail and little boat to a-distant and mighty
ship, if my strength cannot draw its vast bulk to me,
I draw myself to it-to ride in safety under the protection of its guns; to enjoy in want the fullness of its
stores. And it equally serves my purpose, and supplies my needs, that prayer, although it were powerless to move God to me, moves me to God. If He
does not descend to earth, I-as it were-ascend to
heaven.
Child of God! pray on. Were it indispensable for
thy safety that God should rend these heavens, it
should be done —a wondering world should see it
done. I dare believe that; and " I am not mad, most
noble Festus." Have not these heavens been already
rent? Eighteen hundred years ago, robed in hu



THE NECESSITY AND POWER OF PRAYER. 361
ianity, God himself came down. These blue skies,
where larks sing and eagles sail, were cleft with the
wings and filled with the songs of his angel train.
Among the ancient orbs of that very firmament, a
stranger star appeared, traveling the heavens, and
blazing on the banner borne before the King, as he descended on this dark and distant world. On Canaan's
dewy ground-the lowly bed he had left —the eye of
morning shone on the shape and form of the Son of
God; and dusty roads, and winter snows, and desert
sands, and the shores and very waves of Galilee, were
impressed with the footprints of the Creator. By this
manger, where the babe lies cradled-beside this
cross, upon whose ignominious arms the glory of the
universe is hung-by this silent sepulcher, where,
wrapped in bloody shroud, the body is stretched out
on its bed of spices, while Roman sentinels walk their
moonlit round, and Death-a bound captive-sits
within, so soon as the sleeper wakes, to be disarmed,
uncrowned, and in himself have death put to deathfaith can believe all that God has revealed, and hope
for all that God has promised. She reads on that
manger, on that cross, deeply lettered on that rocky
sepulcher, these glorious words-" HEe that spared not
his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how
shall he not with him also freely give us all things?"
And there, lifting an eagle eye to heaven, she rises to
the boldest flights, and soars aloft on the broad wings
of prayerFaith, bold faith, the promise sees,
And trusts to that alone,
Laughs at impossibilities,
And says, it shall be done.
16




~Ip ~leasebnhtw of tja faints/
And ye shall dwell in the land that I gave to your fathers; and ye
shall be my people, and I will be your God. I will also save you
from all your uncleannesses; and I will call for the corn, and will
increase it, and lay no famine upon you. And I will multiply the
fruit of the tree, and the increase of the field, that ye shall receive
no more reproach of famine among the heathen.-EZEKIEL xxxvi.
28, 29, 30.
A   COUNTRY   cleared of its inhabitants wears a
mournful aspect. It may be that the emigrant has left
poverty for plenty.  Still it is not a pleasant thing to
see nettles growing where the garden bloomed-the
smoke-stained gable-the roofless ruin-the empty
window, out of which the fox is peering, and where
the morning sun was wont to shine upon the Bible
and a pious patriarch. There is'something chilling
about that cold hearth-stone where the fire of a winter
evening gleamed on the faces of a happy circle, while
the mother plied her busy wheel, and, forgetful of
the toils and dangers of the day, the shepherd dandled
a laughing infant on his knee.  Those are now silent
walls that once sounded to the evening psalm, and
from which, when Sabbath rested on the hills, a decent family went out, wending their way by the lakeside to that old ruin beside whose crumbling walls the
fathers of the exile sleep. The wind, as it sighed
among the trees above that roofless home, has seemed
in our fancy's ear to sound the prophet's lament,
"Weep not for the dead, neither bemoan him, but




THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE SAINTS.      363
weep sore for him that goeth away, for he shall return
no more, nor see his native country."
Such scenes, the pain of which, indeed, lies more in
fancy than in fact, give us an image of the desolation
which reigned in the land of Judah during the time
of the long captivity. By rule of contrast, they enhance also the pleasure with which we turn to look
on this glowing picture-a land teeming with inhabitants, the rich plains studded all over with cities, each
busy as a bee-hive-the valleys clothed with corn,
crowded with reapers, and ringing to their song-every
terrace in the close embrace of vines, and flocks bleating on a hundred hills. Such a scene, in fact, as surveyed from some eminence, awoke the piety and poetry
of David-" Thou crownest the year with thy goodness,
and thy paths drop fatness; they drop upon the pastures
of the wilderness, and the little hills rejoice on every
side. The pastures are clothed with flocks, the valleys
also are covered over with corn; they shout for joy,
they also sing."
The fulfillment of my text to God's ancient people
would have invested this prophecy with interest, even
although its application had been altogether confined
to the Jews; and, for this reason-Their God is our
God, and every thing which he did for them is a most
precious pledge of what he can and will do for us.
"He is the dwelling-place of his people in all generations." Thus while faith turns her eye upon the
future-a future often dark enough-she draws courage and comfort from the past, saying, "I will remember the years of the right hand of the Most High."
But, in fact, we have more to do with this prophecy
than the Jews had. Under those blessings which God
poured into their cup-those temporal mercies which




364         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
filled their mouths with meat, and their hearts with
gladness —lie the better mercies of Messiah's kingdom.
This shines plainly forth through the mystic language of the prophet. The conversion of the Gentiles is, for instance, distinctly announced in the 36th
verse, "Then the heathen, that are left round about
you, shall know that I the Lord build the ruined
places, and plant that which was desolate. I the Lord
have spoken it, and will do it." In the succeeding
chapter, again, the resurrection of the body and the
renovation of the soul are set forth under the vision
of dry bones. In the same place also have we not a
kingdom shown forth more enduring far, than any
which ever had its seat in Palestine? "And David,
my servant, shall be king over them, and they all shall
have one shepherd; they shall also walk in my judgments, and observe my statutes, and do them; and
they shall dwell in the land which I have given to
Jacob, my servant, wherein your fathers have dwelt;
and they shall dwell therein, even they, and their
children, and their children's children, for ever; and
my servant David shall be their prince for ever." It
appears to us that this language can not, without violence, be applied to the old Jewish land and people;
and that the IRoman ploughshare has buried such a
fancy under the ruins of Jerusalem. With the blood
of man's best brother on their heads, the Jews, like
Cain, are vagabonds. They have no dwelling in the
land which God gave to Jacob; for eighteen hundred
years they have been wandering the world, nor have
Lhe soles of their feet yet found a resting-place. A
nation scattered and spoiled, they are a bye-word, a
proverb, and a hissing-nor land, nor temple, nor
oracle, nor prince, have they, nor shall have, till turn



THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE SAINTS.      365
ing to the hope of his best and oldest fathers, the Jew
bows his proud head to the Nazarene, and kisses the
feet that were nailed to a cross.
Looking at these -words, therefore, in this lighttaking them in a Gospel, not a Jewish sense —let us
give our attention to some of the blessings which they
announce —the benefits which, to use the words of our
Catechism, "flow  from justification, adoption, and
sanctification." Let the believer lookI. To the abundance of the blessings of grace.
A new-born infant is the most helpless of all creatures. In its nakedness, weakness, dumbness, how
dependent on a mother's love! yet not more so than
God's people are on his care and kindness. Theirs
are therefore circumstances in which his promises are
exceedingly precious. The condition of believers very
much resembles that of a man of boundless affluence,
whose wealth lies, not so much in money, as in money's
worth-in bills and bonds, that, when due, shall be
duly honored.   With these promises the poorest
Christian is really a richer man than any other men,
with all their possessions; nor would he part with one
of them for the world's wealth.
This rude and naked savage-the dupe of avaricious men —barters a coronet of gold for some worthless trinkets, and buys the wonders of a mirror, the
tinkling of a bell, or a string of colored beads, with a
handful of pearls, the fit ornaments of a crown. The
child of God knows better than to sell what is of surpassing value, for any thing intrinsically worthless.
With this promise, "thy bread shall be given thee,
and thy water shall be sure," he holds himself richer,
more sure of meat to eat, and raiment to put on, than




866         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
he would be with the wealth of banks. And why?
Is this reasonable? No doubt of it. No logician
ever reasoned more soundly. These may fail; God's
promise can not. The very stars shall drop like figs
from shaken heavens, and these heavens themselves
shall pass away, but not one jot or tittle of what his
God has spoken shall fail, till all be fulfilled.
With such security as we have in the character of
God, and such fullness as is promised in the text, it
needs, therefore, only a prophet's faith to echo a
prophet's speech, and-when gaunt famine walks our
streets, and there are "clean teeth," and children cry
for bread, and their mothers have none to give them
-to repeat the boldest words that ever fell from mortal
lips -" Although the fig-tree should not blossom, and
there be no fruit on the vine; though the labor of the
olive should fail, and the fields yield no meat; though
the flocks should be cut off from the fold, and there
be no herd in the stall, yet I will rejoice in the Lord,
and joy in the God of my salvation." I can fancy a
skeptic exclaiming-Extravagance! fanaticism-mad
fanaticism! No such thing. In his promises God's
people have meat to eat that others know not of, and
these have proved like the breasts of a daughter to
the aged captive who had been condemned to die of
pining hunger. In that cell, where the gray old man
each day took her infant's place, her love and ingenuity
have found means to save a father's life, which his
enemies never dreamt of; and the child of God,
around whom fears of want are gathering, may rest
assured, that he who inspired that daughter with the
wit and will for such an emergency, will find ways and
means to make his promise good. "The word of the




THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE SAINTS.      367
Lord is a tried word "-fail us who, and what may,
that can not..
There are, indeed, times when the believer is ready
to faint. Faith staggers beneath the burden, and hope
all but expires. My sins are so many, my guilt so
great, my burden so heavy! thus and thus they speak;
now, with Jacob, complaining, "All these things are
against me " and now, on finding Satan so often conquering theml wen they should have conquered him,
crying with David, " I shall one day fall by the hand
of this Saul." Well, let your burdens, sins, cares, be
such as you describe. Let me ask you a question.
Is it not as easy for yonder great sea to carry the
bulkiest ship that ever rode her waves, as the sea-weed
or foam she flings upon the shore? Is it not as easy for
that glorious sun to bathe a mountain, as to bathe a
mole-hill in gold? Is it not as easy for this mighty
earth to carry on its back an Alp as a grain of sand —
to nourish a cedar of Lebanon, as the hyssop on the
wall? Just so, believer, it is as easy for God to
supply thy greatest as thy smallest wants; even as it
was as much within his power to form a system as an
atom-to create a blazing sun, as kindle a fire-fly's
lamp.
To one, indeed, whose standing point is on the
ground, objects seem very various in their size. The
cliffs tower above the level shore; piercing the horizontal cloud of smoke, the spires rise above the
humbler tenements of the town; and from her throne
of snow in high mid-summer, winter looks down on the
valleys that lie smiling at the mountain's feet. Eyed
from the low, dead level of shore or plain, objects do
appear in strong contrast, high or low, great or small,
big or little. But I rise on eagYe's wings; I sit on




368         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
the circle of the earth; higher still, I stand beside the
angel whom John saw in the sun; still higher, I follow Paul up to the third heavens; and, seen from
such elevations-if seen at all-dwarf and giant, the
mountain and the mole-hill, are on one level. All
these sublunary differences vanish, sink into insignifi
cance-into nothing.
Now, here lies a believer's comfort, and here shines
a sinner's hope. So vanish all distinctions between
great and little wants in the eye of God; so disappears
all difference between great and little sins, or great
and little sinners, to the blood of Christ; and, when
our cares are cast on him who invites the burden, so
sinks every difference between light and heavy burdens, to the back of Jesus. It is as easy for Jesus Christ
to save a Magdalene, a Manasseh, a hoary thief, as an
infant, that (happy creature!) just leaves its mother's
womb to make of this earth a stepping-stone to heaven.
Whatever be your circumstances, trials, cares, and
griefs, this promise fits them-" As'thy day, so shall
thy strength be." Be he dwarf or giant, no man can
say of an assurance so well founded, "The bed is
shorter than a man can stretch himself upon it; the
covering is narrower than a man can wrap himself in
it." Are you cast down because, while others have
shallows, you have depths —dark depths —depths of
sorrow, and suffering, to pass through? Be it so: it
is as easy for God to march his people through the
wide, deep sea as across the bed of Jordan. Are your
corruptions strong?  Be it so: Samson found it as
easy to snap a new spun cable as withes fresh gathered
on the river's bank; and believe me, it is as easy for
God to break thy tyrant's strongest as his lightest
chain. A chain of iron and a thread of flax are all




THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE SAINTS.      369
one to God. The blood of thy Saviour cleanseth from
all sin; and nothing being impossible, nay not even
difficult to Omnipotence, be assured, that in your
battle, and watch, and work, you shall find this
promise true-" My grace is sufficient for thee."
II. Consider the happiness which God's people
enter on at death.
Egypt pursued the Hebrews to the very shores of
the sea. -There, however, the people saw the last of
them; of those tyrants who had made their burden so
heavy and life so bitter, that their cry came up before
the Lord. On this shore the oppressor and the oppressed are to part. In these weltering waves, from
which they shrink back with dread-as some good
men from death-their enemies and their griefs are to
find a common grave. In these the wicked shall
cease from troubling; beyond them the weary shall
be at rest. Night has come; a sun they shall never
see more has set on Pharaoh and his host. Under the
light that illumined the camp of'God, and flung a
fiery luster across the deep, Moses stood up to address the people. Their redemption was nigh. It
was now just that darkest hour which ushers in the
dawn. With' his foot on the shore, his rod in his
hand, the fiery pillar lighting up his face, Moses
pointed to the gloom where the Egyptians lay, and
said, " The Egyptians whom ye have seen to-day, ye
shall see them again no more for ever."
God's people are like his ancient Israel. They
have enemies who will harrass them in life, and follow
them to the very shores of time; but whoever, or
whatever these may be-sin, sorrow, poverty, temptations, trials, fears, doubts, Satan himself-Oh! a death'
16*




370         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
bed shall be the death of them all. In leaving life
we leave these behind.  Death is their destruction,
not ours. And how should it reconcile us to that
dark passage from which nature shrinks, that when
we stand in its gloomy month to take our last look of
this world, may feel assured that we shall take the
last look, not of friends in Christ-for we shall meet
them again in heaven-but only of these our enemies.
We "shall see them again no more for ever." Satan
may not only pursue God's people to their very deathbed, but harrass them upon it. He knows that his
time is short. It is his last chance. Another day or
hour, and they are out of his grasp; and so-summoning all the powers of hell-he drives down like
the Egyptians into the sea-into the very depths of
death-and aggravates by his horrible suggestions
the struggles of a dying hour. The saint has, in that
time of darkness, two enemies upon him-death, and
him that has the power of death, that is the devil.
Be it so; God shall take off their chariot-wheels;
they shall not reach the other shore, nor set foot in
heaven; there, there entereth nothing to hurt or to
defile.
The dead enter into rest. "Blessed are the dead
which die in the Lord, they rest."  " He that is dead
is free from sin." And, as I have looked on the calm
and deep repose of the quiet sleeper, when the tossing
arms lie still, and the restless head reposes on its pillow, and the features which have now lost all expression of pain, or passion, present an aspect of solemn,
sublime, beautiful, perfect rest, I have sometimes
thought that this was an emblem which the soul had
left us of its own still more profound, perfect, heavenly
rest.




THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE SAINTS.     3T1
This is what the redeemed escape fron, but, Oh!
what they escape to-the joys they enter on when they
go to be with Christ, who can tell? We know that
"to die" is-not shall be at some future time, and
after some intermediate state-but "to die is gain,"
gain immediate. One step-and, what a step!-the
soul is in glory. Ere the wail has sunk in the chamber of death, the song of the upper sanctuary has
begun. There is no delay; no waiting for an escort
to travel that invisible, untrodden way. Angels
unseen are moving in that chamber, looking on with
tearless eyes where all else are weeping; and, the last
breath out-the last quiver passed from the lip-and
away, away, they are off with the spirit for glory.
On angel's wings the beggar is borne to Abraham's
bosom; and the shout of saints and angels, that
greeted the Conqueror, is still ringing amid the arches
of heaven, when the door opens, and the thief walks
in. "This day thou shalt be with me in Paradise."
He leaves his cross, and direct, as I have seen a lark
drop singing into her nest, he goes up singing to his
crown.
And what and where is heaven?   I can not tell.
Even to the eye of faith, heaven looks much like a
star to the eye of flesh. Set there on the brow of
night, it shines most bright-most beautiful; but it is
separated from us by so great a distance as to be
raised almost as high above our investigations as
above the storms and clouds of earth. A shining object, we see it gleaming in the fields of space, but we
see nothing more, even when our eyes are assisted by
the most powerful telescope. By what beings it is inhabited; what forms they have; what tongue they speak;
what the character the landscape wears in these upper




372         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
worlds we do not know; and perhaps never shall,
till we have cast loose a body which moors us to the
earth, and, with a soul unchained, free perhaps as
thought-we are left to roam the universe, and pass,
on the wings of a" wish, from world to world of our
Father's kingdom. Never, at least, till then, shall we
know either where heaven is, or what heaven is. The
best description of it is to say that it is indescribable.
Paul, on his return, attempted no other. There he
"heard and saw things unutterable." Nor does the
matter cost us the least anxiety. If God spared not
his own Son, heaven shall want nothing to make us
supremely happy. It is enough for me to know that
heaven, the home of the blessed-the palace of the
Great King-has joys which eye never saw, ear never
heard, and which it hath not entered into the heart
of man to conceive.
II. The complete blessedness of the saints at the
resurrection in the restoration of all that sin forfeited.
There were periods in creation-progressive steps.
Step by step the work advanced to its consummation.
In creation, just as in conversion, the process began
with light —letting light in upon the darkness. God
said, "Let there be light, and there was light, and the
evening and the morning were the first day." And
then a wide-spread firmament of blue separates the
waters above the earth from the waters beneath, and,
the work completed, the evening and the morning
are the second day. The third day begins a new
epoch. The mountains raise their heads above the
waters; like an infant, the earth comes naked from
the womb, and when God has wrapped the new-born
world in a beautiful robe of flowers, green fields, and




THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE SAINTS.      373
waving forests, the evening and the morning are the
third day. The heavens next are garnished; and
when their boundless fields are sown with countless
stars, the evening and the morning are the fourth
day. Thus the Creator goes on with his work. Each
succeeding period brings it nearer to perfection, till,
on the evening of the sixth day, as the sun was sinking behind the western hills, his slanting beams shone
on our holy, happy parents —their home a garden,
their estate a world, the creatures all their servants,
in their hearts no taint of sin, in their eyes no tear of
sorrow, and on brows too soon to be bathed in sweat,
and blushing with shame, flashing crowns of innocence. Then, from the throne of his most excellent
majesty, God looked on this world as it rolled away
in its happy orbit, and, pronouncing all that he had
made to be very good, the evening and the morning
were the sixth day.
Like creation, the Gospel has had its periods of progress. It gradually advanced in its development from
the first promise given by God, when he, the judge,
and the culprits man and the devil stood face to face
upon the ruins of Eden. First, we have a simple
altar, with the smoke of sacrifice curling up to heaven
from earth's unbroken forests;-none there but our
two solitary parents, weeping, as well they might,
when they gazed on the miserable wreck which they
had made of their own and their children's fortunes;
and yet, while they wept, lifting up their heads in
hope of a coming redemption. The scene shifts, and
next we have a desert, with a mighty host scattered
over its sands, and in their midst a tented sanctuary
with a cloud of incense floating, like a prayer, away
to heaven. The scene shifts again, and Jerusalem




874         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
sits upon her hills, and where hundreds of white-robed
priests are serving, and thousands of worshipers are
kneeling, a magnificent temple of marble, cedar, and
gold- towers high over all-the ornament and palladium of the land. The scene shifts once more. It is
mid-day, and yet dark; the earth is trembling, graves
are yawning to let out their dead, and, through the
gloom of an unnatural eclipse, we behold the cross of
Calvary with its bleeding victim. Son of God! He
is dying, "the just for the unjust."  He cries, "It is
finished," and, Saviour of the world, he dies. The
work, so long ago begun, is brought to a triumphant
close. In the very act of death he swallows up death
in victory. And thus you see how, from one garden
to another, from the flowery bowers of Eden to the
olives of Gethsemane, from the first promise to the
final performance, redemption advances by successive
steps. Jesus bows his head; and then, again, from
the throne of his most excellent majesty, God looks
on all the work, and over the bloody cross and his
own dead Son, pronounces this judgment, "Behold,
it is very good." And, ushering in an eternal Sabbath, the evening and the morning were the sixth day
of redemption.
There yet remains an aspect of redemption in which
it is not complete. The prince of this world is still
out, and in the battle-field fighting-fighting like the
devil he is for his kingdom. The body yet lies a
captive in the tomb, and the grave must yield its ancient charge. Insatiate and insatiable devourer! thou
robber of our pleasant homes with thy black mouth
ever opening, and thy cry, give, give, give, ever in
our ear, thou thyself must give-thou must give up
thy dead. The dust of saints is dear to Christ. He




THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE SAINTS.       375
comes to claim it. All that death and Satan hold they
must relinquish; all that Christ has purchased he shall
possess. The soul wants her partner; and although
the exile may return no more, nor see his native land,
the redeemed shall return to claim their bodies from
the earth-aye, and claim the very earth they lie in.
"The saints shall inherit the earth."
A grand destiny awaits this world of sins and sorrows. This earth, purified by judgment fires, shall
be the home of the blessed. The curse of briars and
thorns shall pass away with sin. "Instead of the
thorn shall come up the fir tree, and instead of the
briar shall come up the myrtle tree." Of the thorns
of that curse Jesus' crown was woven, and he bore it
off upon his head. Under laws accommodated to the
new economy, the wide world shall become one Eden,
where, exempt from physical as from moral evils, none
shall shiver amid arctic frosts, nor wither under tropic
heat; these fields of snow and arid sands shall blossom all with roses. From the convulsions of expiring
-or rather the birth-pangs of parturient nature-a
new-born world shall come, a home worthy of immortals, a palace befitting its King. The blood that
on Calvary dyed earth's soil shall bless it, and this
theater of Satan's triumph, and of a Saviour's shame,
shall be the seat of Jesus' kingdom, and the witness
of his glory.
Then the saints shall inherit the earth. Some, like
Abraham in the promised land, are poor wanderers
here-the proprietors of nothing but a grave. Some
own not even so much as that. The saints, like the
descendants of a noble but decayed house, are strangers
on the soil which was once the property of their fathers.
But the time of their redemption draweth nigh. Man




376         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
shall get his own again, and hold it by a charter writ
ten in the blood of Christ. This world was gifted to
him. It was his patrimonial estate. It was the land
given to our fathers. And it seems most meet, that
with the rank and title, the lands should come back to
the old family; and, as forming the completest triumph
over Sin and Satan, that our redemption should be
altogether like that of Israel, when Moses turned
round on Pharaoh, saying, " Not a hoof shall be left
behind." Even so, come, Lord Jesus, come quickly.




~|u      fnnxritg   of t~t Idirtver,
I the Lord have spoken it, and I will do it.-EZEKIEL xxxvi, 36.
WHEN in a sultry summer day the sky gets over.
cast, and angry clouds gather thick upon its brow, and
bush and brake are silent, and the very cattle, like
human beings, draw close together, standing dumb in
their untasted pastures, and while there is no ripple on
the lake, nor leaf stirring on the tree, all nature seems
struck with awe, and stands in trembling expectation;
then, when the explosion comes, and a blinding stream
of fire leaps from the cloud, and as if heaven's riven
vault were tumbling down upon our head, the thunders crash, peal, roar along the sky, he has neither
poetry, nor piety, nor sense, who does not reverently
bow his head and assent to the words of David, "The
voice of the Lord is full of majesty."
When the God of glory thundereth in nature, his
voice is full of majesty; when, in still louder thunders,
the God of providence speaks by calamities that shake
the nation, or shake to its foundations the happiness
of our home, his voice is also full of majesty; and
when the ear of faith listens to these august and lofty
words, "I have spoken, and I will do it," the voice of
the Lord again is "full of majesty."  This language
is stamped with divinity. And to God we may, with
the highest propriety, address the words which the
flatterers of royalty blasphemously offered to an orator,
whose proud assumption of divinity the worms soon




378         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
refuted. The lie of their adulation to Herod changes
to truth on our lips, when-speaking of him who
says, " I the Lord have spoken, and I will do it"we exclaim, " This is the voice of a God, and not of
a man."
The words of my text fit not mortal lips. Of that
truth, Jephthah's calamity and Herod's crime afford
memorable illustrations. In the full tide of patriotism,
in the fierce excitement of the fight, with a warrior's
proud ambition to win the field, Jephthah made, his
vow, and resolved to keep it-to do what he spake.
Ah! little did he dream, that the first to leave his
house, the victim for sacrifice, should be the daughter
of his heart-his only child. And as little did Herod
foresee, upon what a bloody path of remorse and crime
the rash pledge extorted by the fiendish hatred of a
paramour would lead him.
Often, we have not the power to do what we say,
and to perform what we promise. "If the Lord will,"
should qualify all the future. And although the power
were ours, some vows, some resolutions, are more
honored in the breach than in the observance. The
language of my text, therefore, belongs only to him
whose glance penetrates eternity; to whose omniscience nothing is impervious, to whose power nothing
is impossible. Weak, short-sighted, ignorant, erring
mortals, such words in our mouths were impudent and
impotent presumption; and we have no more right to
assume the imperial tone of Divinity, than we have
ability to launch his thunderbolts, or wisdom to guide
his counsels.
These great words of power are also words of mercy.
Connect them with the exceeding precious promises,
the exceeding lofty offers of the Gospel, with such a




THE' SECURITY OF THE BELIEVER.      379
passage as this-" Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ,
and thou shalt be saved;" or this, "Come unto me
all ye that labor, and are heavy-laden, and I will give
you rest;" or this, "My grace shall be sufficient for
thee, and my strength made perfect in your weakness;" or this, " With my dead body shall they arise."
"Awake and sing, all ye that dwell in the dust. For
thy dew is as the dew of herbs, and the earth shall
cast out the dead"-and these words are as full of
mercy as of majesty. God in them speaks with absolute confidence. And how is his confidence calculated to create and sustain in our hearts the firmest
assurance that he can and that he will do all he says?
He speaks "as one having authority."  There is no
obscurity about his language, or hesitation in its tone.
He speaks as one whose word is law, whose will is
power, whose smile is life, whose frown is death. He
speaks as one who has entire confidence in his own
resources, and whose word is as efficient now as on
the day when he issued the creative fiat, and said,' Let there be light, and there was light."
Were you ever at sea in a storm, when the ship
reeled to and fro like a drunken man, and struggling,
as for life in the arms of death, now rose on the top
of the billow, now plunged into the trough of the sea?
Partially infected with others' terror, did you ever
leave shrieking women and pale men below, to seek
the deck, and look your danger bravely in the face?
In such circumstances, I know nothing so re-assuring
as-when we have staggered across the slippery planking, and are holding by rail or bulwark-to see amid
these weltering foam-wreaths, that fierce commotion,
the hurricane roar of the wind among the shrouds,
and the loud dash of the billows beneath-calm con



380         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
fidence seated on the brow of that weather-beaten man
who, with iron strength, leans upon the wheel, and
steers our ship through the roaring billows. Such —
only much higher-is the confidence which we draw
from the confidence of God, as expressed in the words
-" I have spoken, and I will do it."
In illustration of this, take the night of the storm
in Galilee. The disciples gather round our Lord, and
wake him, crying, Master, Master, " Carest thou not
that we perish?" Look up, and see these mountain
waves! Hark to the roaring of the storm! the boat
fills-we sink. Save, Oh save, we perish! Had they
known him fully, would they not have drawn courage
from his very slumbers? With a boat-cloak protecting his wasted and weary form from the flying spray,
they would have let him sleep on; and bold faith,
arresting the arm of fear, had said, " Hush! wake him
not; let him take his rest; he would not, could not
sleep, were disciples in danger."
When a mother, on a watch by a cradle where life
has been feebly flickering, falls asleep, we are sure that
the crisis is over-the worst is passed. Before sleep
sealed these kind and anxious eyes, they had seen the
tide, that had ebbed, returning. Let the storm wreck
a hundred boats, and carry disaster, widowhood, orphanage among the fishing hamlets upon Galilee's
shores, to my eye the disciples had full assurance of
safety in the fact that Jesus slept, and slept as soundly
in that storm-tossed boat as when Mary rocked the
cradle, or sung him over on her gentle bosom. In
that sleeping form  "there was the hiding of his
power," and the confidence of high and worthy faith.
But my text is one that meets the weakest faith; for
who can doubt that God will make good all his promises,




THE SECURITY OF THE BELIEVER.      381
who marks the firm, unqualified, determined, supreme,
sovereign tone of the words, " I the Lord have spoken,
and I will do it." Man is often confident when he
should be diffident; and yet, if the confidence of man
inspires us with hope, and speaks peace to the apprehensions of a troubled heart, how much more should
the confidence of God? With these words in our eye,
we can look on the starry dome of heaven and this
solid earth, and believe that sooner shall that arch fall,
and bury a crushed world in its-ruins, than that one
good word spoken of his people shall fail till all be
fulfilled.
I. The text announces a most important truth.
So long as there was pulse and breath in Lazarus,
his sisters often left their brother's couch, and went to
door and window to see if there was yet any sign of
Jesus. Days ago a messenger had been dispatched
with the tidings, "He whom thou lovest is sick;" and
they felt like the mother of Sisera, when, wearying for
her son's return, she looked for him in the glare of
day, and listened for him in the gloom of night, crying, Why is his chariot so long in coming? why tarry
the wheels of his chariots? Death at length quenches
hope. The funeral is over; and, when four days have
elapsed, a lingering Lord is seen descending the
heights of Olivet in his approach to Bethany. One
enters the house of mourning and whispers, "The
Lord is come."  Martha rises, advances to meet him
and pour forth her regret for his absence, and her
confidence in his power in this bitter cry, "Lord, if
thou hadst been here, my brother had not died."
When we look at our text, we feel, in reference to
the sad event of Eden, much as Martha did when she




382         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
turned her weeping eyes on Jesus. Would his pres,
ence have preserved the life of Lazarus? No less
certainly had these words been present in their power
to Eve, they would have preserved her innocence, and
saved the world. Not Lazarus only, but no man had
died; there had been neither sin, nor sorrow, nor griefs,
nor graves, in this suffering world, had Eve, when she
stood by the fatal tree, but remembered, believed, felt
this sentence, "I have spoken, and I will do it."
Then, on the serpent saying, "Thou shalt not surely
die," with a voice as prompt and peremptory as her
Son's, she had replied, "Get thee behind me, Satan,
thou savorest not of the things that be of God." The
honor reserved for her seed had been her own. She
had placed her naked foot upon the serpent, and, stamping down a heel unbruised, had crushed his head.
Oh, the world had been saved, had she, taking up her
position on the high ground of my text, answered the
tempter thus, "The Lord hath said, In the day thou
eatest thereof, thou shalt surely die.. He hath spoken,
and He will do it." Entrenched more strongly within
these lines than ever army that, behind batteriesbristling with cannon-beat back the fierce sortie, she
had stood alone; within the impregnable barriers of
God's word, she had defied the powers of hell; and,
omnipotent in God, she had received the battle on her
single shield. Eden had still been ours, and our family
had still been blessed and holy, with God for a father
and Paradise for a home.
Some years ago, when autumn floods wrought great
devastation in our country, a strong man was swept
away into the swollen river. It bore him-as he and
others thought-by good fortune, to a tree, which
stood bravely up amid the sea of waters. He caught




THE SECURITY OF THE BELIEVER.      383
it and climbed it. Seated on a bough he stretched
out his arms for help to the distant banks. Attempts
were made to rescue him before nightfall, but all in
vain. The day wore on, and the night at length came
down; and now a frantic wife, and weeping little ones,
and some kind neighbors, were left nothing to do, but
to listen amid the pauses of the tempest for his long,
shrill whistle. Ever and anon that came across the
flood to cheer them up; for he sounded it to let them
know that he was still alive, and that the tree was
yet breasting the roaring stream. About midnight
this signal ceased. They strained their ears, and
heard nought but the hoarse roar of the angry river,
mingled with the shrieking of the storm. Morning
at length arrived; the man was gone-tree gone-and
where it stood they saw but the whirling waves of the
red roaring flood. At this moment, one-considered
little else than a fool-stepped forward to say, " I could
have saved him." Any other but that heart-broken
group would have laughed him to scorn; and yet he
showed them how, by attaching a rope to a float, and
sending that away from the very bank where the lost
man had been carried off, he could have saved him,
since the current that bore the man to the tree would
have been certain to carry to him this means of communication with the shore. The plan was perfect;
no doubt of it. But it came too late; and they had
to leave the scene with their grief exasperated and
embittered by the thought, that had they possessed
but the wisdom of this fool, their desolate home had
received a joyous family, to give God thanks for the
"dead that was alive again, and the lost that was
found."
I have told you, that had my text been present to




384         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
the mind, and felt in its power by the heart of Eve,
we had not been lost. But when the deed has been
done, and it is now too late, my object is not to show
how man might have been saved. There is little kindness in telling me of a medicine that would have cured
my dead. To tell me that had this or that been done,
the grave had not held their loved dust this day, is not
to close but open my wound-to drop not balm, but
burning acid upon a raw and bleeding sore. Glory to
the grace of God, I tell not that my text, if believed
in, would have saved man, but, if believed in, shall
still save him.
It would have kept us out of the grave. It can
raise us out of it. It is like Jesus Christ. Had he
been present, Lazarus had not died, but he who could
have saved Lazarus from the tomb, when it has closed
upon his friend, calls him out of it. The power that
would have proved the sick man's remedy, stands at
the mouth of that yawning sepulcher the dead man's
resurrection. Let my text lay hold of the redemption
of Christ, and it has all, and more than all the power
it ever had-the cross, the crown, peace, pardon, grace
in life, hope in death, heaven throughout all eternitythese are all wrapped up in a deep, solemn, heartfelt,
divine conviction of this truth. "I the Lord have
spoken, and I will do it."
Take, on the one hand, these precious invitations"Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters;
come ye, buy and eat, yea, come, buy wine and milk
without money and without price;" and this, "Look
unto me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth;"
and this, " The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from
all sin;" and this, " I will take out of you the hard and
stony heart;" and this, "Behold, O my people, I will




THE SECURITY OF THE BELIEVER.       385
open your graves, and I will cause you to come up
out of your graves, and ye shall live;" and take, on
the other hand, these:-" They that sow to the flesh,
shall of the flesh reap corruption;" and this, " The
soul that sinneth, it shall die;" and this, " The wicked
shall be cast into hell." N-ow, would God by his Spirit
help us to lodge in men's hearts an earnest, cordial
belief of these truths as they appear in the light of the
text, man would not-man could not be lost. At once
warned and won by it, the Gospel would be glad news.
Men with all their hearts would embrace offered mercy.
Churches would become sanctuaries, and the place of
worship would be a gate to heaven. And ministersdisheartened and despondent-would not have to return
so often to their Master, saying, "Lord, they are perishing; yet they will not come to thee that they may
have life. I have brought back thine offer. They
will not take it. No man hath believed my report,
and to none has the arm of the Lord been revealed."
II. The comforts this truth imparts to a true Christian.
Through his confidence in this truth, the believer commits all his earthly cares to God.
I do not say that we are not to embrace any opportunity of improving our circumstances, and acquiring
lawful objects of pursuit. Far from it. The Gospel
inculcates diligence, even in our worldly calling. "Go
to the ant, thou sluggard, consider her ways, and be
wise." Nor shall our lawful calling, whatever it be,
interfere with the best interests of.our souls. Religion
is none the worse, but all the better for work; and a
man's work is all the better for his religion. The
morning prayer does for a good man's heart what the
morning meal does for his body. It braces him up
17




886         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL,
for the day and its duties. He has least need of a
master's watchful eye, who feels that the eye of God
is ever upon him. You may safely trust most to those
who make conscience of the meanest work; who, in
kindling a fire or sweeping a floor, have an eye uplifted to the glory of God; who ennoble life's humblest
employment by aiming at a noble end; and who address themselves to their business in the high and holy
belief, that when duty-however humble it may beis well done, God is glorified; just as he is glorified as
well by a lowly daisy, as by the garden's gaudiest and
proudest flowers.
But while this truth gives no encouragement to
indolence-to a languid and idle waiting upon providence-and no encouragement to cast our work
itself on God, it teaches his people to cast the cares of
the work upon him. Are not these among the words
that he hath spoken, and will do, "The steps of a
good man are ordered by the Lord." " Cast thy burden
on the Lord, he shall sustain thee.'.' "The lot is cast
into the lap; but the whole disposing thereof is of the
Lord?" Child of God! put in, then, a fearless hand
into this lottery, and draw. With faith in God's
superintending providence and his unfailing word.
Child of God! shield thy heart from cares that are
the torture of others, and from temptations that are
often their ruin? Between a man, torn with anxieties,
tossed with fears, fretting with cares, and the good
man, who calmly trusts in the Lord, Oh! there is as
great a difference as between a brawling, roaring,
mountain brook, that with mad haste leaps from crag
to crag, and is ground into boiling foam, and the placid river, which, with beauty on its banks and heaven
in its bosom, spreads blessings wherever it flows, and




THE SECURITY OF THE BELIEVER.       387
pursues the noiseless tenor of its way back to the great
ocean, from which its waters came. "It is better to
trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man. It is
better to trust in the Lord than to put confidence in
princes."  "They that trust in the Lord shall be as
Mount Zion,which cannot be removed."
Through his confidence in the truth of my text, the believer is sustained amid the trials of life.
God casts his people into trial for the very same
reason that the refiner commits his silver to the furnace. He tries them to purify them. He does not
afflict willingly. Be assured that he has no more
pleasure in their sufferings than a kind surgeon in his
patient's groans, or a parent in his children's tears.
Trials are ill to bear. To be reduced from affluence
to poverty-to become dependent on cold charity-to
lie on a bed of languor-to pass nights of sleepless
pain-to be exposed to evil tongues-to be hissed on
the stage where we were once applauded-to sit amid
the ruins of fortune-to lay loved ones in a lonesome
grave-such things are not "joyous, but grievous."
Winter, no doubt, is not the pleasant season that summer brings, with her songs and flowers, and long,
bright, sunny days. Bitter medicines, no doubt, are
not savory meat. Yet he who believes that all things
shall work together for good, will be ready to thank
God for physic as well as for food; and for the winter
frost that kills the weeds, and breaks up the soil, as
for the dewy nights and sunny days that ripen the
fields of corn. May God give us such a faith  With
nature weak and grace imperfect, when there is no
lifting of the cloud, and trials are severe and long-protracted I ah  though it may be easy for an on-looker
to preach patience, it is not easy for a sufferer to prac



388          THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
tice it. In such circumstances, how prone we are to
take the case out of God's hands, and, getting discontented with his discipline, how ready we are to cry,
"Htow long, 0 Lord, how long?"  " If it be possible,
let this cup pass from me;" or, take away this, and
give me any one else to drink. Yet let me have a firm
faith in God's truth and love, let me be confident that
he will do what he has said, and perform all that he
has promised, and I shall discover mercy's bow bent
on fortune's blackest cloud, and, under most trying
providences, shall enjoy in my heart, and exhibit to
others in my temper, the blessed difference between a
sufferer that mourns, and a spirit that murmurs.
Through his confidence in the truth of my text, the believer cheerfully hopes, and patiently waitsfor heaven.
Home! to be home is the wish of the seaman on
stormy seas and lonely watch. Home is the wish of
the soldier, and tender visions mingle with the
troubled dreams of trench and tented field. Where
the palm-tree waves its graceful plumes, and birds of
jeweled luster flash and flicker among gorgeous flow
ers, the exile sits staring upon vacancy; a far away
home lies on his heart; and borne on the wings of
fancy over intervening seas and lands, he has swept
away home, and hears the lark singing above his father's fields, and sees his fair-haired boy brother, with
light foot and childhood's glee, chasing the butterfly
by his native stream. And in his best hours, home,
his own sinless home-a home with his Father above
that starry sky-will be the wish of every Christian
man. He looks around him-the world is full of suffering; he is distressed by its sorrows, and vexed with
its sins. He looks within him-he finds much in his
own corruptions to grieve for. In the language of a




THE SECURITY OF THE BELIEVER.       889
heart repelled, grieved, vexed, he often turns his eye
upwards, saying, "I would not live here alway."
No. Not for all the gold of the world's mines-not
for all the pearls of -her seas-not for all the pleasures
of her flashing, frothy cup-not for all the crowns of
her kingdoms-would I live here alway. Like a bird
about to migrate to those sunny lands where no winter sheds her snows, or strips the grove, or binds the
dancing streams, he will often in spirit be pruning his
wing for the hour of his flight to glory.
The holier the child of God becomes, the more he
pants after the perfect image and blissful presence of
Jesus; and dark although the passage, and deep although the river may be, the more holy he is, the
more ready will he be to say, "It is better to depart,
and be with Jesus."  "Tell me," said a saintly minister of the Church of England, whose star but lately
set on this world, to rise and shine in better skies —
" tell me," he said to his physician, " the true state of
my case; conceal nothing;" adding, as his eye kindled, and his face beamed at the very thought, " if you
have to tell me that my dissolution is near, you could
not tell me better or happier news."
Paul said, "I am in a strait betwixt two, having a
desire to depart and to be with Christ, which is far
better: nevertheless, to abide in the flesh is more
needful for you." He judged it best for himself to go,
but for others he judged it best to stay. And there
are few nobler sights than to see that man, with his
foot on the door-step of heaven, return to throw himself into the very thick of battle, and spend and be
spent in his Master's work. The crown of martyrdom
often within his reach, he drew back a hand that was
eager to grasp it. He took as much care of life as the




390         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
coward guilt that is afraid to die.. He was not impatient of the hardships, wounds, and watchings of the
warfare, so long as he could serve the cause of Jesus.
It was sin, not suffering that he felt intolerable; and
which wrung from him the bitter cry, " 0, wretched
man that I am! who shall deliver me from this body
of death?" His a Saviour's spirit, he chose rather
that Christ should be glorified through his labors on
earth, than that he himself should be glorified with
Christ in heaven. And so long as he had a tongue to
speak for Jesus, and an arm to hold high above the
battle's tumult the banner of the faith, he was willing
to work on-not impatient for death and his discharge.
His was a higher and more heroic wish than to get to
heaven. He wished to make a heaven of earth; and,
persuaded that nothing could separate him from the
love of God, or, finally, from heaven, believing that
all which God had said of him he would do for him,
and knowing that, though the vision tarried, it would
come, he possessed his soul in patience and peacewaiting for the Lord.
It is a cowardly thing for a soldier to seek his discharge, so long as his country's banner flies in the
battle-field. The Christian should be a hero, not a
coward; and with such faith as all may get, and
many have enjoyed, God's people, while they look to
heaven, will with patience wait for it. On *his way
home, the saint will prove himself a good Samaritan;
ready to stop even on a heavenward journey, that he
y raise the fallen, bind up the wounds of humanity,
and do all the work that meets him upon the road.
Nor shall this go unrewarded. " The sleep of a laboring man is sweet."   And, Oh! heaven shall be
sweetest to him who has wrought through the longest




THE SECURITY OF THE BELIEVER.      391
day, and toiled the hardest at his work. Now and
then he will be lifting up a weary head to see how
the hours wear by-if there be yet any sign of his
Master coming.  But upborne under the heat and
burden of the day by the confidence that "he who
shall come will come, and will not tarry," he works
patiently, and he suffers patiently. The most importunate and urgent prayer he ventures on, that of one,
who, trembling lest patience should fail and religion
suffer dishonor, cried, when her pain deepened into
agony, and the agony became excruciating-" Come,
Oh come, Lord Jesus I come quickly."
II. Both nature and providence illustrate the truth
of my text.
Nature assures us, that what God hath said, he will do.
It can never be wrong to do what Jesus did. That
must be sound reasoning, in the use of which he sets
us an example. I see him bring a flower to the pulpit,
and choose a lily for his text. He bids the people
listen to that sweet preacher-the little bird-that,
seated on the bending spray, with providence for its
song and sermon, neither sows nor reaps; without
harvests, suffers no wants; and without a barn, feels
no fears. Thus he taught his hearers to cast their cares
on God, and thus have I the highest authority for
summoning Nature here to bear witness to the character of God. We ask her then to say, whether her
God, who is our God, is true to his word? whether
he ever says, and fails to do? By the voices of
the sun, the stars, the hills, the valleys, the streams,
the cataracts, the rolling thunders, and the roaring
sea, she returns a majestic answer-it is an echo of
the text. Spring comes with infant nature waking in




392         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
her arms; Summer comes bedecked with a robe of
flowers; Autumn comes with her swarthy brow,
crowned with vines, and on her back the sheaves of
corn; old Winter comes with his shivering limbs, and
frozen locks, and hoary head; and these four witnesses —each laying one hand on the broad table of
nature, and, lifting the other to heaven —swear by
him that liveth for ever and ever, that all which God
hath said, God shall do.
No man looks for sunrise in the west. No soldier
stands beneath the falling shell, expecting to see it
arrested in its descent, and hanging like a star in
empty space. We build our houses in confidence
that the edifice will gravitate to the center; nor ever
doubt, when we set our mill-wheel in the running
stream, that as sure as man is on his way to the grave,
the waters shall ever take their way to the sea. We
consult the Nautical Almanac, and, finding that it
shall be high water to-morrow at such an hour, we
make our arrangements for being on board then, certain that we shall find our ship afloat, and the seamen
shaking out their sails to go away on the bosom of
the floating tide. If fire burned the one day, and
water the next; if wood became at one time as heavy
as iron, and iron at another as buoyant as wood; if
here the rivers hasted to the embraces of the sea, and
there, as in fear, retreated from them, what a scene of
confusion this world would become!  In truth, its
whole business rests on faith-on our belief, that God
will carry into unfailing effect every law which his
finger has written in the books of nature and of providence. This is the pillow on which a sleeping
world rests its weary head; this is the pivot on which
its business turns. Now let us remember, that there




THE SECURITY OF THE BELIEVER.       393
are not two Gods; a consistent Divinity who presides
over nature, and a capricious Divinity who presides
in the kingdom of grace. "Hear, 0 Israel, the Lord
thy God is one Lord." In regard, therefore, to all
the precious promises and solemn warnings of the
Bible, Nature lifts up her voice, and cries-" 0 Earth,
Earth, Earth, hear the word of the Lord."
Providence assures us that what God hafh said, he
will do.
Some time ago the heavens were pouring down torrents of rain, the streams had risen into rivers, the
rivers were swollen into seas, and, our fields changed
into lakes, boats were plying were ploughs were wont
to go. It looked like the beginning of a second
deluge; and to some who had fled from their beds for
safety to cottage roofs, the howling of the wind, the
incessant pouring of the rain, the waters steadily rising
on the walls, may have recalled the memory of that
day when the ark began to float, and men hung
round it knocking on a door which God had shut in
judgment against a wicked world. Yet, I will venture to say, that the dread of a second deluge aggravated no man's sufferings, nor changed a sinner's
curses into a penitent's prayers. Why not? Ahl!
men say the sea has never left her bounds. Apart
altogether from the records of revelation, geology tells
us that she has, and that round the rock where the eagle
now has her nest, monsters of the deep have swam,
and that the highest peaks of earth's highest mountains were once the islands of an ancient sea. Yes I
but then, it is said, there is the bow in the cloud, and
the promise in the Bible, "Neither shall all flesh be
cut off any more by the waters of a flood; neither
17'




394         THE GOSPEL IN EZEKIEL.
shall there any more be a flood to destroy the earth.
This is the token of my covenant that I will make
between me and you, and every living creature that
is with you for perpetual generations. I do set my
bow in the cloud, and it shall be for a token of a covenant between me and the earth." That indeed is a
security against a second flood. Now, shall God keep
his word to this doomed, sinful, polluted worldshall he keep the covenant of the bow, and not keep
the covenant of the cross? The providences of four
thousand years assure us that he who is true to his
covenant with Noah, shall not be less true to the
blood-sealed covenant made with his beloved Son.
The voice of every storm that, like an angry child,
weeps and cries itself asleep-the voice of every shower
that has been followed by sunshine-the hoarse voice
of ocean breaking in impotent rage against its ancient
bounds-the voice of the seasons as they have marched
to the music of the spheres in unbroken succession
over the earth-the scream of the satyr in Babylon's
empty halls-the song of the fisherman, who spreads
his net on the rocks, and shoots it through the waters
where Tyre once sat in the pride of an ocean queenthe fierce shout of the Bedouin as he careers in freedom over his desert sands-the wail and weeping of
the wandering Jew over the ruins of Zion-in all these
I hear the echo of this voice of God, " I the Lord
have spoken, and I will do it." These words are
written on every Hebrew forehead. The Jew bartering his beads with naked savages-bearding the
Turk in the capital of Mohammedan power-braving in
his furs the rigor of Russian winters-over-reaching in
China the inhabitants of the Celestial Empire-in
Golconda buying diamonds-in our metropolis of the




THE SECURITY OF THE BELIEVER.      395
commercial world standing highest among her merchant princes-the Hebrew every where, and yet every
where without a country; with a religion, but without a temple; with wealth, but without honor; with
ancient pedigree, but without ancestral possessions;
with no land to fight for, nor altars to defend, nor
patrimonial fields to cultivate; with children, and yet
no child sitting under the trees that his grandsire
planted; but all floating about over the world like
scattered fragments of a wreck upon the bosom of the
ocean-he is a living evidence, that, what the Lord
hath spoken, the Lord will do.
True to his threatenings, Almighty God will be true
to all his promises; and to both we can apply the
words of Balaam —" Rise up, Balak, and hear; hearken
unto me, thou son of Zippor: God is not a man that he
should lie, nor the son of man that he should repent.
Hath he said, and shall he not do it? hath he spoken,
and shall he not make it good?"
THE END.