OUR MASTER

Thoughts for Salvationists about Their Lord

BY

General Bramwell Booth. 

"_As man He suffered--as God He taught_. "

TO

MY WIFE

Contents. 

Preface

 I. The Man for the Century

 II. The Birth of Jesus

 "_For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord_. " (Luke ii. 11. )

 "_The firstborn among many brethren_. " (Rom. Viii. 29. )

 III. Contrasts at Bethlehem

 IV. Christ Come Again

 "_And she brought forth her firstborn Son, and wrapped Him in swaddling clothes, and laid Him in a manger_. " (Luke ii. 7. )

 "_Christ formed in you_. " (Gal. Iv. 19. )

 V. The Secret of His Rule

 "_For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin_. " (Heb. Iv. 15. )

 VI. A Neglected Saviour

 "_And He came and found them asleep again: for their eyes were heavy_. " (Matt. Xxvi. 43. )

 VII. Windows in Calvary

 "_And they crucified Him, and parted His garments, casting lots: that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophet. They parted My garments among them, and upon My vesture did they cast lots. And sitting down they watched Him there_. " (Matt. Xxvii. 35, 36. )

 VIII. The Burial of Jesus

 "_And after this Joseph of Arimathea, being a disciple of Jesus, but secretly for fear of the Jews, besought Pilate that he might take away the body of Jesus: and Pilate gave him leave. He came therefore, and, took the body of Jesus_. " (John xix. 38. And following verses. )

 IX. Conforming to Christ's Death

 "_That I may know Him . . . Being made conformable unto His death_. " (Phil. Iii. 10. )

 X. The Resurrection and Sin

 "_Concerning His Son Jesus Christ our Lord, which was . . . Declared to be the Son of God with power, according to the spirit of holiness, by the resurrection from the dead_. " (Rom. I. 3, 4. )

 XI. "Salvation Is of the Lord"

 "_Salvation is of the Lord_. " (Jonah ii. 9. )

 "_Work out your own salvation_. " (Phil ii. 12. )

 XII. Self-Denial

 "_If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me_. " (Matt. Xvi. 24. )

 XIII. In Unexpected Places

 "_And . . . While they communed together and reasoned, Jesus Himself drew near, and went with them. But their eyes were holden that they should not know Him_. " (Luke xxiv. 15, 16. )

 XIV. Ever the Same

 "_Blessed be the name of God for ever and ever: for wisdom and might are His: and He changeth the times and the seasons_. " (Dan. Ii. 20, 21. )

 "_I am the Lord, I change not_. " (Mal. Iii. 6. )

Preface

The present volume contains some of the papers bearing on the Birth andDeath and Work of our Lord Jesus Christ which I have contributed from timeto time to Salvation Army periodicals. I hope that in this formthey may continue the service of souls which I am assured they began torender when, one by one, they were first published. 

Much in them has, I do not doubt, come to me directly or indirectly byinspiration or suggestion of other writers and speakers, and I desiretherefore to acknowledge my indebtedness to the living, both inside andoutside our borders, as well as to the holy dead. 

Bramwell Booth. 

Barnet, _May_, 1908. 

I. 

The Man for the Century

I. 

_The Need_. 

The new Century has its special need. 

The need of the twentieth century will be men. In every department of theworld's life or labour, that is the great want. In religion, in politics, in science, in commerce, in philanthropy, in government, all othernecessities are unimportant by comparison with this one. 

Given men of a certain type, and the religious life of the world willthrive and throb with the love and will of God, and overcome allopposition. Given men of the right stamp, and politics will become anotherword for benevolence. Provided true men are available, science will takeher place as the handmaid of revelation. If only men of power andprinciple are at hand, commerce will prosper as she has never yetprospered, rooted in the great law which Christ laid down for her: "Dounto others as ye would that they should do unto you. " If the men arefound to guide it, philanthropy will become a golden ladder ofopportunity by which all in misfortune and misery may climb, not only tosufficiency and happiness here, but to purity and plenty for ever. And, given the men of heart, head, and hand for the task, the government of thekingdoms of this world will yet become a fulfilment of the great prayer ofJesus: "Thy will be done on earth, as it is done in Heaven. "

But all, or nearly all, depends on the men. 

II. 

_The Man_. 

The new Century will demand men. 

But if men, then certainly a _man_. Human nature has, after all, moreinfluence over human nature than anything else. Abstract laws are oflittle moment to us until we see them in actual operation. The law ofgravitation is but a matter of intelligent wonder while we view itsinfluence in the movements of revolving planets or falling stars; but whenwe see a baby fall terror-stricken from its little cradle to the floor, "the attraction of large bodies for small ones" takes on a new andheart-felt meaning. The beauty of devotion to truth in the face ofopposition hardly stirs an emotion in many of us, as we regard it fromthe safe distance of our own self-satisfied liberty; but when we see thelonely martyr walk with head erect through the raging mob, and kiss thestake to which he is soon to be bound; when we watch him burn until thekindly powder explodes about his neck, and sends him to exchange his shirtof flame for the robe he has washed in the Blood of the Lamb; then, thebeauty, the sincerity, the greatness, the God-likeness of sacrifice, especially of sacrifice for the truth, comes home to us, and captures eventhe coldest hearts and dullest minds. 

The revelation of Jesus in the flesh was a recognition of this principle. The purpose of His life and death was to manifest God in the flesh, thatHe might attract man to God. He took human nature that human nature mightsee the best of which it was capable. He became a man that men might knowto what heights of power a man might rise. He became a man that men mightknow to what lengths and breadths of love and wisdom a man might attain. He became a man that men might know to what depths of love and service aman might reach. 

The men we need, then, for the twentieth century will find the pattern Manready to their hand. Be the demands of the coming years what they may, Godis able to raise up men to meet them, men after His own likeness--men ofright, men of light, men of might--men who will follow Him in thedesperate fight with the hydra-headed monsters of evil of every kind, andwho will, by His Name, deliver the souls of men from the slavery of sinand the Hell to which it leads. 

III. 

_Standards_. 

The new Century will demand high standards, both of character and conduct. 

Explain it how we may, the fact is evident that religion has greatlydisappointed the world. The wretched distortion of Christ's teaching whichappears in the lives and business of tens of thousands of professedChristians, the namby-pambyism of the mass of Christian teachers towardsthe evil of sin, and the unholy union, in nearly all the practicalproceedings of life, between the world and the bulk of the Christianchurches, no doubt largely account for this, so far as Christianity isconcerned. 

Mohammedanism is in a still worse plight, for though, alas! it increaseseven faster than Christianity, it is helpless at the heart. The mass ofits devotees know that between its highest teaching and its best practicethere is a great gulf, and they are slowly beginning to look elsewhere forrules by which to guide their lives. 

And what is true of Mohammedanism is true also of Buddhism--the greatreligion of the East. Its teachers have largely ceased to be faithful totheir own faith; and, as a consequence, that faith is a declining power. Beautiful as much of its teaching undoubtedly is, millions who arenominally Buddhist are estranged by its failures; and are, with increasingunrest, looking this way and that for help in the battle with evil, andfor hope amidst the bitter consciousness of sin. 

Such is a cursory view of the attitude of the opening century towards thegreat faiths of the world. Perhaps one word more than another sums it allup--especially as regards Christianity--and that word is NEGLECT--cold, stony neglect!

And yet men are still demanding standards of life and conduct. The openmaterialist, the timid agnostic, no less than the avowedly selfish, thevicious and the vile, are asking, with a hundred tongues and in a thousandways, "Who will show us any good?" The universal conscience, unbribed, unstifled as on the fateful day in Eden--conscience, the only thing in manleft standing erect when all else fell--still cries out, "YOU OUGHT!"still rebels at evil, still compels the human heart to cry for rules ofright and wrong, and still urges man to the one, and withholds him fromthe other. 

And it is--for one reason--because Jesus can provide these high standardsfor men, that I say He is _The Man for the Century_. The laws He haslaid down in the Gospels, and the example He furnished of obedience tothose laws in the actual stress and turmoil of a human life, afford astandard capable of universal application. 

The ruler, contending with unruly men; the workman, fighting forconsideration from a greedy employer; the outcast, struggling like anIshmaelite with Society for a crust of bread; the dark-skinned, sad-eyedmother, sending forth her only babe to perish in the waters of the sacredriver of India, thus "giving the fruit of her body for the sin of hersoul"; the proud and selfish noble, abounding in all he desires except theone thing needful; the great multitude of the sorrowful, which no man cannumber, who refuse to be comforted; the dying, whose death will be anunwilling leap in the dark--all these, yea, and all others, may find inthe law of Christ that which will harmonise every conflicting interest, which will solve the problems of human life, which will build up a holycharacter, which will gather up and sanctify everything that is good inevery faith and in every man, and will unite all who will obey it in theone great brotherhood of the one fold and the one Shepherd. 

IV. 

_Liberty_. 

The new Century will call for freedom in every walk of human life. 

That bright dream of the ages--Liberty--how far ahead of us she stilllies!

What a bondage life is to multitudes! What a vast host of the human race, even of this generation, will die in slavery--actual physical bondage!Slaves in Africa, in China, in Eastern Europe, in the far isles of the seaand dark places of the earth, cry to us, and perish while they cry. 

What a host, still larger, are in the bondage of unequal laws! Littlechildren, stricken, cursed, and damned, and there is none to deliver. Young men and maidens bound by hateful customs, ruined by wickedassociations, torn by force of law from all that is best in life, andtaught all that is worst. Nine men out of ten in one of the great Europeanarmies are said to be debauched morally and physically by their militaryservice; and all the men in the nation are bound by law to serve. 

What a host--larger, again, than both the others--of every generation ofmen are bound by custom in the service of cruelty. It is supposed thatevery year a million little children die from neglect, wilful exposure, orother form of cruelty. Think of the bondage of those who kill them! Lookat the cruelty to women, the cruelty of war, the cruelty to criminals, thecruelty to the animal creation. What a mighty force the slavery of cruelcustom still remains!

All that is best in man is crying out for emancipation from this bondage, and I know of no deliverance so sure, so complete, so abiding as thatwhich comes by the teaching and spirit of Jesus. But, even if freedom fromall these hateful bonds could come, and could be complete, without Him, there still remains a serfdom more degrading, a bondage more inexorablethan any of these, for men are everywhere the bond-slaves of sin. Look outupon the world--upon your own part of it, even upon your own family orhousehold--and see how evil holds men by one chain or another, and gripsthem body and soul. This one by doubt, this by passion, this by envy, thisby lust, this by pride, this by strife, this by fear, this one by love ofgold, this one by love of the world, and this one by hatred of God! _Isit not so_?

What men want, then, is PERSONAL, INDIVIDUAL LIBERTY FROM SIN. Given that, and a slave may be free. Given that, and the child in the nursery ofiniquity may be free. Given that, and the young man or maiden held in thecharnel-house of lust may be free. Given that, and the victim of all thatis most cruel and most brutal in life may still be free. Oh! blessed beGod, he whom the Son makes free is free indeed!

This, and this alone, is the liberty for the new Century--the Gospelliberty from sin for the individual soul and spirit, without respect oftime or circumstance; and here alone is He who can bestow it--Jesus, theLion of the Tribe of Judah. 

This, I say, is _The Man for the new Century_. 

V. 

_Knowledge_. 

The new Century will be marked by a universal demand for knowledge. 

One of the most remarkable features of the present time is theextraordinary thirst for knowledge in every quarter of the world. It isnot confined to this continent or that. It is not peculiar to any specialclass or age. It is universal. One aspect of it, and a very significantone, is the desire for knowledge about life and its origin, about thebeginning of things, about the earth and its creation, about the workwhich we say God did, which He alone could do. 

Oh, how men search and explore! How they read and think! How they talk andlisten! Where one book was read a generation ago, a hundred, I shouldthink, are read now; and for one newspaper then read, there are now, probably, a thousand. Every man is an inquiry agent, seeking news, information, or instruction; seeking to know what will make life longerfor him and his; and, above all, what can make it happier. 

And here, again, I say that _Jesus is The Man for the new Century_. He has knowledge to give which none other can provide. I do not doubt thatuniversities, and schools, and governments, and a great press, can, andwill, do much to impart knowledge of all sorts to the world. But when itcomes to knowledge that can serve the great end for which the very powerto acquire knowledge was created--namely, _the true happiness ofman_--then, I say, that JESUS is the source of that knowledge; thatwithout Him it cannot be found or imparted; and that with Him it comes inits liberating and enlightening glory. 

Oh, be sure _you have that_! No amount of learning will stand you inits stead. No matter how you may have stored your mind with the riches ofthe past, or tutored it to grapple with the mysteries of the present, _unless you know Him, it will all amount to nothing_. But if you knowHim who is life, that is life eternal. Knowledge without God is like a manlearned in all the great mysteries of light and heat who has never seenthe sun. He may understand perfectly the laws which govern them, theresults which follow them, the secrets which control their action on eachother--all that is possible, and yet he will be _in the dark_. 

So, too, knowledge, learning, human education and wisdom are all possibleto man; he may even excel in them so as to be a wonder to his fellows byreason of his vast stores of knowledge, and yet know nothing of that lightwithin the mind by which he apprehends them. Nay, more! he may even be amarvellous adept in the theory of religion, and yet, alas! alas! may neverhave seen its SUN--may still be in the blackness of gross darkness, because he knows not Jesus, the Light of the world, whom to know is lifeeternal. 

VI. 

_Government_. 

The new Century will demand governors. 

Every thoughtful person who considers the subject must be struck by themodern tendency towards personal government all over the world. Whatevermay be the form of national government prescribed by the variousconstitutions, it tends, when carried into practice, to give power andauthority to individual rulers. Whether in monarchies like England, whereParliament is really the ruling power; or in republics like France and theUnited States, where what are called democratic institutions are seen intheir maturity; or in empires like Germany and Austria, the same leadingfacts appear. Power goes into the hands of one or two who, whether asministers, or presidents, or monarchs, are the real rulers of the nation. 

Perfect laws, liberal institutions, patriotic sentiments, though they mayelevate, can never rule a people. A crowd of legislators, no matter howdevoted to a nation, can never permanently control, though they mayinfluence it. Out of the crowd will come forth one or two; generally onecommanding personality, strong enough to stand alone, though wise enoughnot to attempt it. In him will be focussed the ideas and ambitions of thenation, to him the people's hearts will go out, and from him they willtake the word of command as their virtual ruler. It has ever been so. Itis so to-day. It will always be so. 

And as with nations so with individuals. _Every man must have aking_. Call him what we will, recognise him or not, every man is thesubject of some ruler. And this will, if possible, be more manifest in thefuture than in the past. Men will not be satisfied to serve ideas, to livefor the passing ambitions of their day, they will cry out for a king. 

Am I wrong when I say that JESUS IS THE COMING KING? In Him are assembledin the highest perfection all the great qualities which go to make theKING OF MEN. And so the new Century will need Him, must have Him; nay, itcannot prosper without Him, the Divine Man, for He is the rightfulSovereign of every human soul. 

VII. 

_A New Force_. 

The new Century will demand great moral forces as well as high ideals. 

Nothing is more evident than that the forms and ceremonies of religion arerapidly losing--even in nominally Christian countries--all real influenceover the lives of men. The form of godliness without the power is not onlythe greatest of all shams, but it is the most easily detected. Hence it isthat a large part of mankind is either disgusted to hostility or utterlyestranged from real religion by theories and ceremonials which, thoughthey may continue to exist in shadow, have lost their life and soul. 

For example, the old lie, that money paid to a Church can buy"indulgences" which will release men in the next world from the penalty ofsin committed in this, and the miserable theory which made God the directauthor of eternal damnation to those who are lost, are among the theorieswhich, though they are still taught and professed here and there, havelong ago ceased to have real influence over men's hearts or actions. Inthe same way, there are multitudes who still conform to the outwardceremony of Confirmation, upon whose salvation from sin or separation fromthe world that ceremony has absolutely no influence whatever, although, for custom's sake, they submit to it. 

But a greater danger than this lies in the fact that _it is possible tohold and believe the truth, and yet to be totally ignorant of itspower_. Sound doctrine will of itself never save a soul. A man maybelieve every word of the faith of a Churchman or a Salvationist, and yetbe as ignorant of any real experience of religion as an infidel or anidolater. And it is this merely intellectual or sentimental holding of thetruth about God and Christ, about Holiness and Heaven, which makes theungodly mass look upon Christianity as nothing more than an opinion or atrade; a something with which they have no concern. 

The new Century will demand something more than this. Men will requiresomething beyond creeds, be they ever so correct; and traditions, be theyever so venerable; and sacraments, be they ever so sacred. They will askfor an endowment of power to grapple with what they feel to be base inhuman nature, and to master what they know is selfish and sinful in theirown hearts. 

And right here _The Man for the Century_ comes forward. The doctrineof Jesus is the spirit of a new life. It is a transforming power. A manmay believe that the American Republic is the purest and noblest form ofgovernment on the earth, and may give himself up to live, and fight, anddie for it, and yet be the same man in every respect as he was before; butif he believes with his heart that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and gives himself up to live, and fight, and die for Him, he will become anew man, he will be a new creature. The acceptance of the truth, andacting upon it, in the one case, will make a great change in his manner oflife--his conduct; the acceptance of the truth, and acting upon it, in theother, will make a great change in the man _himself_--in his tastesand motives, in his very nature. 

Again, I say, this is what we shall need for the new Century. Not goodlaws only, but the power to observe them. Not beautiful and lofty idealsonly, but the power to translate them into the daily practice of commonlives. Not merely the glorious examples of a pure faith, but the actualforce which enables men to live by that faith amid the littleness, thedepression, the contamination, and the conflict of an evil world. 

VIII. 

_Atonement_. 

The new Century will demand an atonement for sin. 

The consciousness of sin is the most enduring fact of human experience. From generation to generation, from age to age, amidst the ceaselesschanges which time brings to everything else, this one great fact remains, persists--_the condemning consciousness of sin_. It appears with menin the cradle, and goes with them to the tomb; without regard to race, orlanguage, or creed it is ever with us. It was this robbed Eden of itsjoys; it is this makes life a round of labour and sorrow; it is this givesdeath its terrors; it is this makes the place of torment which men callHell--for the unceasing consciousness of sin will be "the worm that neverdies. "

All attempts to explain it away, to modify its miseries, to extract itssting--whether they have come from the party of unbelief, or the party ofeducation, or the party of amusement, have failed--and failed utterly. Nomatter what men say or do to get rid of it, there it is--staring them inthe face! Whether they look amongst the most highly civilized peoples oramongst the lowest savages; whether they look into the past history ofmankind or into its present condition, there is the _stupendous fact ofsin_, and there is the incontrovertible fact that everywhere _men areconscious of it_. 

It is going to be so in this twentieth century. If God, in His mercy, allows the families of men to continue during another hundred years, thisgreat fact will still stand out in the forefront of life. Sin will stillbe the skeleton at every feast, the horrid ghost haunting every home andevery heart, the spectre, clothed with reproaches, ever ready to plungehis dripping sword into every breast. 

Sin. The world's sin. The sin of this one generation. The sin of one city. The sin of one family. The sin of one man--_my sin_! Ah! depend uponit, the twentieth century will cry aloud, "_What shall be done with oursin_?"

Yet, thanks be to God! there is an atonement. The MAN of whom I write hasmade a propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only, but for the sinsof the whole world. He stands forth the ONLY SAVIOUR. None other has everdared even to offer to the sin-stricken hearts of men relief from the_guilt_ of sin. _But He does_. He can cleanse, He can pardon, Hecan purify, He can save, because _He has redeemed_. "Thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us unto God by Thy blood, out of every kindred, andtongue, and people, and nation. "

Will you come and join in our great world-mission of making His atonementknown? Will you turn your back on the littleness, and selfishness, andcowardice of the past, and arise, in the strength of the God-Man, topublish to all you can reach, by tongue, and pen, and example, that thereis a sacrifice for men's sins--for the worst, for the most wretched, forthe most tortured? As you set your face with high resolve towards theunknown years, take your stand with THE MAN FOR ALL THE AGES; and let thisbe your message, your confidence, your hope for all men-"_Behold theLamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world_!"

II. 

The Birth of Jesus. 

 "_For unto you is born . . . A Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. _" --Luke ii. 11. 

 "_The firstborn among many brethren_. "--Romans viii. 29. 

The birth of Jesus is one of the great signs of His condescension; and, nomatter how we view it, is perhaps scarcely less wonderful than His death. If the one manifests His glorious divinity, then the other exalts Hiswonderful humanity. If Calvary and the Resurrection reveal His power, doesnot Bethlehem make manifest His love? And did not both the former come outof the latter? The infinite glory which belongs to the cross and the tombhad its rise in the gloom of the stable. If the Babe had not been laid inthe manger, then the Man would not have been nailed to the tree, and theLamb that was slain would not have taken His place on the EverlastingThrone. 

I claim, therefore, a little more attention to the events which relate tothe Saviour's birth, and to the lessons which may be derived from them;and though, perhaps, something of what I have to say will have alreadyoccurred to some who will read this paper, I will venture to suggest oneor two thoughts as they have been presented to my own mind. Their verysimplicity has made them of service to me. 

I. 

_He Came_. 

The nature of the whole work of our redemption is made manifest by the onefact--_He really came_. His everlasting love, His infinitecompassion, His all-embracing purpose were from eternity; but we only gotto know of it all because _He came_. If He had contented Himself withsending messages or highly-placed messengers, or even with makingoccasional and wonderful excursions of Divine revelation, man would, nodoubt, have been greatly attracted, and perhaps even helped somewhat inhis tremendous conflict with evil; yet he might never have been subdued inwill, he might never have been touched and won back to God; he might neverhave been brought down from his pride to cry out, "My Lord and my God. "No, it was _His coming to us_ that wrought conviction of sin, andthen conviction of the truth in our hearts. 

He came Himself. 

There is something very wonderful in this principle of _contact_ asillustrated by the life of Jesus. Just as to save the human race He feltit necessary to come into it, and clothe Himself with its nature andconform Himself to its natural laws, so all the way through His earthlyjourney He was constantly seeking to _come into touch_ with thepeople He desired to bless. He touched the sick, He fed the hungry, Heplaced His fingers on the blind eyes, and put them upon the ears of thedeaf, and touched with them the tongue of the dumb. He took the ruler'sdead daughter "by the hand, and the maid arose. " He lifted the littlechildren up into His arms, and blessed them; He stretched forth His handto sinking Peter; He stood close by the foul-smelling body of the deadLazarus; He took the bread, and with His own hands brake it, and gave itto His disciples at that last farewell meal. He even took poor Thomas'strembling hand, and guided it to the prints in His hands and the wounds inHis side. 

Yes, indeed, it is written large, in every part of His life, that Hereally came, and that He came very near to lost and suffering men. 

Is there not a lesson here for us, my comrade? As He is in the world, soare we. This principle in His life was not by accident or by chance, itwas an essential qualification of His nature for the work entrusted toHim. It is a necessary qualification for those who are called to carry onthat work. 

Is this, then, the impression you are able to give to those among whom youlabour: that you have come to them in very truth; that in mind and soul, in hand and heart, you are seeking to come into the closest contact oflove and sympathy with them, especially with those who most need you?

Oh, aim at this! Do not for your own sake, as well as for your Master's, move about amid your own people, or among those to whom God and The Armyhave given you entrance, as one who has little in common with them, whodoes not know them, who does not feel with them. Go into their houses, putyour hand sometimes to their burdens, take a share in their toils, nursetheir sick, weep with them that weep, and rejoice with them that rejoice. Make them feel that it is your own religion, rather than The Army system, that has made you come to them. Let them see by your sympathy and kindnessthat love is the over-mastering influence in your life, the influence thathas brought you to them. Compel them to turn to you as a warm-heartedunselfish example of the truths you preach. Let them feel that you areindeed come from God to take them by the hand, as far as may be, and leadthem through this Vale of Tears to the City of Light and Rest. 

II. 

_His Humble Origin_. 

Everything associated with the advent of Jesus seems to have beenspecially ordered to mark His humiliation. It is true that Mary, Hismother, was of the lineage of King David, but her relationship with theroyal house was a very distant one, and the family had fallen upon sadtimes. The Romans were masters in the land, and a stranger sat upon thethrone of Israel. Mary, therefore, was but a poor village maiden; Joseph, her betrothed husband, was a carpenter--an ordinary working man. Bethlehem, the place of the Saviour's birth, was a tiny stragglingvillage, which, though not the least, was certainly one of the least ofthe villages of Judea. And Nazareth, where He grew from infancy tochildhood, and from youth to manhood, was another little hamlet among thehilly country to the north of Jerusalem, and was held in low repute by thepeople of those days. 

The occupation chosen for the early life of Jesus was a humble one. Helearned the trade of a joiner, and worked with Joseph at the carpenter'sbench. His associates and friends were of the village community, and He"whose Name is above every name" passed to and fro and in and out amongthe cottage homes of the poor--as one of themselves. Probably none but Hismother had, in these early years, any true idea of the mysterious promisewhich had been given concerning Him. 

What a contrast it all presents to the years of stress and storm and ofvictory which were to follow, and to the supreme influence His teachingand example were to exert in the world!

Is there not something here for us? Do not the lowly origin and simplecountry habits and humble tastes of some of our comrades make themhesitate on the threshold of great efforts, when they ought to leapforward in the strength of their God? Let them remember their Master, andtake courage. Let them call to mind the unfashionable, uneducated, uncultivated surroundings of Nazareth. Let them bear in mind thecarpenter's shed, the rough country work, the bare equipment of thevillage home, the humble service of the family life. Let them, above all, remember the plain and gentle mother, and the meek and lowly One Himself, and in this remembrance let them go forward. 

To be of lowly origin, or of a mean occupation; to come out of poverty andwant; to be looked down upon by the rich or the powerful ones of earth; tobe treated as of no consequence by governments and rulers, and yet to goon doing and daring, suffering and conquering for God and right; what isall this but the fulfilment of Paul's words, "And base things of theworld, and things which are despised, hath God chosen, yea, and thingswhich are not, to bring to nought things that are: that no flesh shouldglory in His presence"? Nay, what is it all but to tread in the very stepsthat the Master trod?

III. 

_His High Nature_. 

But if, on the human side, our Redeemer's origin and circumstances were ofthe humblest, and we are thus enabled to see His humanity, as it were faceto face, there was united with it the Divine nature; so that as our_Doctrines_ say, "He is truly and properly God, and He is truly andproperly man. " Many mysteries meet by the side of that manger, some ofthem to remain mysteries, so far as human understanding can grapple withthings, till God Himself reveals them to our stronger vision in the worldto come. But, blessed be God, some, things that we cannot compass with ourmental powers are very grateful to our hearts. 

 How Thou canst love me as I am, Yet be the God Thou art, Is darkness to my intellect, But sunshine to my heart. 

And we to whom the Living Christ has spoken the word of life and liberty, although we may not now fully comprehend this great wonder of all wonders--God manifest in the flesh--and may not be able effectively to make itplain to others, we cannot for ourselves doubt its central truth--_that_ GOD _dwelt with man_. 

Here was, indeed, a perfect union of two spirits. There was the sufferingand obedient spirit of the true _man_; there was the unchanging andHoly Spirit of the true God. It was a union--it was a unity. It was God inman--it was man in God. A being of infinite might and perfect moralbeauty, sent forth from the bosom of the Father; and yet a being of lowlyand sensitive tenderness, having roots in our poor human nature, temptedin all points like as we are, and touched with the feeling of all ourinfirmities. 

Is it not to something of the same kind we are called? Is not every trueSalvation Army Officer designed by God to be also (not, of course, in thesame degree, but still up to the measure of his own capacity and of hisMaster's will) a dual, or two-fold creature, with associations and rootsand attachments in all that is human, and yet with the divine life, thedivine spirit, divine love, divine zeal, divine power, divine fire unitedwith him and dwelling in him?

The perfect man would have been a great marvel, a great teacher, a greatprophet; but without the God he could never have been the perfect Saviour. The Divine, without the human, would have been an awe-inspiring fact, aspectacle of holiness too great for human eyes; but He could not have beena Saviour. If it were possible for us to conceive the one without theother we should certainly not find a JESUS in either. 

And so, your merely _human_ Officer, no matter how pure, how strong, how thoughtful, how clever, how industrious, will fail, and ever fail. Andeven so the Officer who is lost in visionary seeking after the Divinealone, to the neglect of action, of duty, of law, of self-denial, of thecommon conflicts and contracts of the man, will equally fail, and alwaysfail. It is the man we want. The MAN--but the man born of the SPIRIT. TheMAN--but the man full of the HOLY GHOST. The MAN--but the man withPENTECOST blazing in his head and heart and soul. 

Comrade, what are you? Are you striving to be a prophet without possessingthe spirit of the prophets? Are you trying to be a priest without thepriestly baptism? Are you labouring to be a king without the Divineanointing? Beware!

IV. 

_From Infancy to Manhood_. 

Birth implies the weakness, the dependence, the ignorance of infancy. Butit implies, also, the promise of growth, of increase, of advance frominfancy to manhood. Thus it is with man generally. So it was with the Sonof Man. First, He was "wrapped in swaddling clothes, and laid in amanger. " Presently He goes forth in His mother's arms into Egypt, and backto Nazareth. By and by it is written that "the Child grew and waxed strongin spirit, and the grace of God was upon Him. " Then He is found in theTemple, asking that wonderful question about His Father's business, and atlast we find Him "increased in wisdom and stature, and in favour with Godand man. "

We know, also, that He was found in fashion as a servant, and was obedientunto death; that He was tempted of the Devil, and that "He learnedobedience by the things that He suffered. " In fact, a very slightacquaintance with the history of His life reveals the truth that in somewonderful way He steadily grew in wisdom and grace; in the power to loveand to serve, and in strength to grapple with sin and death--all the whileHe journeyed from the cradle to the grave and the victory beyond. 

His life was a discipline, in the very highest sense of the word. Many ofthe hopes He might rightly entertain about the success of His work weredashed. Much of His love for those around Him was disappointed, and Histrust betrayed. He was despised where He should have been honoured:rejected where He should have been received. "He came unto His own, andHis own received Him not. " "Not this man, " they cried, "but Barabbas. " Butout of it all He came forth perfect and entire, lacking nothing--thechiefest among ten thousand, the altogether lovely. It may be a mystery, but it is a fact all the same, that the more the precious and wondrous andeternal jewel was cut and cut again, the more the light and glory of theDay-spring from on High was made manifest to men. 

And here also I find a word of help and courage and cheer for you and me, my precious comrade. I am not sure that you could receive any morevaluable Christmas gift than the full realisation of this truth--_thatyour advance from the infancy to the manhood of your life in God will notbe hindered and delayed, but rather will be helped and quickened by thestorms and trials, the conflicts and sufferings, which will overtakeyou_. 

It was so with the man Christ Jesus; it has been so with thousands of Hischosen. As He, our dear Lord, was made perfect through suffering, so areHis saints. We are "chosen in the furnace of affliction, " and often castinto it, too! And yet He who chooses all our changes, might have spared usevery trial and conflict, and taken us to victory without a battle, and torest without a toil. But He knows better what will make us _men_, andit is _men_ He wants to glorify Him--men, not babes. 

The dark valleys of bitterness and loneliness are often better for usthan the land of Beulah. A certain queen, once sitting for her portrait, commanded that it should be painted without shadows. "Without shadows!"said the astonished artist. "I fear your Majesty is not acquainted withthe laws of light and beauty. There can be no good portrait withoutshading. " No more can there be a good Salvationist without trial andsorrow and storm. There might, perhaps, remain a stunted and unfruitfulinfant life--but a _man_ in Christ Jesus, a _Soldier_ of theCross, a _leader_ of God's people, without tribulation _there cannever be_. Patience, experience, faith, hope, love, if they do notactually grow from tribulations, are helped by them in their growth. Forwhat says the Apostle? "Tribulation worketh patience, and patienceexperience, and experience hope, and hope maketh not ashamed. "

The finest pine-trees grow in the stormiest lands. The tempests make themstrong. Surgeons tell us that their greatest triumphs are often those inwhich the patients have suffered most at their hands--for every stroke ofthe knife is to heal. The child you most truly love is the one you mostanxiously correct, and "whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth. " Oh, _do_believe that by every blow of disappointment and sorrow He permits to fallupon you, He is striving to bring you to the measure of the stature of aman in Christ Jesus. _Do_ work with Him in the full knowledge that Hewill not forsake you. He, the Man who has penetrated to the heart ofevery form of sorrow, and left a blessing there; He who has watched insilence by every kind of earthly grief, and found its antidote: the Manwho trod the wine-press alone--He will be with you. 

And, since He is with you, see to it you acquit yourself well in Hispresence. It is related of an old Highland chief that when advancing togive battle he fell at the head of his clan, pierced by two balls from thefoe. His men saw him fall, and began to waver. But their wounded captaininstantly raised himself on his elbow, and, with blood streaming from hiswounds, exclaimed, "Children, I am not dead; _I am looking to see if youdo your duty_!"

My comrade, this is the path of progress, the way of advance from thelittleness and weakness of infancy to the battles and victories ofmanhood. It is the way of duty, and your Captain, with the wounds in Hishands and His side, is looking on. 

III. 

Contrasts at Bethlehem. 

The birth and infancy of Jesus--notwithstanding that Christmas time comesround again and again--receive less attention than they deserve; owing, nodoubt, to the interest attached to the events of His manhood and death. Nevertheless, they suggest some useful lessons, especially to those of uswho have much to do with the weak and trembling, and are ourselves, alas!often weak and trembling, too. May I offer one or two thoughts on thesubject, which, though quite simple, have proved of blessing to my ownheart?

I. 

_Great weakness may be quite consistent with true greatness andgoodness_. 

It is unnecessary to dwell even for a moment on the weakness of the InfantJesus. The Scripture has left no possible doubt about it. 

Unable to speak, to walk, indeed to do anything for Himself--weak with allthe weakness of the human race; yea, more truly helpless than a young birdor a tiny worm, the Holy Child was laid in the manger hard by the beaststhat perish. 

And yet we know that there was the Divine SON, the Express Image of theFather, the Everlasting King, the Enthroned One, the Creator, "withoutwhom was not anything made that was made"! It is indeed a contrast, whichfirst astounds us, and then compels our adoration and love. Our God is aconsuming Fire--_our God is a little Child_. Holy, Holy, Holy, is theLord of Hosts; the whole earth is full of His glory--_and yet He isthere in fashion as a Babe_, for whom, in all His sweet innocence, theycannot find a room in the crowded inn. 

Yes, my friend, to be weak, to be small, to be sadly unfit for the strifesof time; to feel weary and unequal to the hard battles of life; to realisethat you are pushed out and away by the crowd, to be contemptuouslyforgotten by the multitude shouting and singing across the road--all thismay be your case; and _yet_ you may be God's chosen vessel, intended--framed "to suffer and triumph with Him. " You, even you, may be destinedby His wisdom to fill for Him some great place in action against the hostsof iniquity and unbelief. Above all, you may be appointed by God theFather to be like His Son, with a holy likeness of will, of affection, ofcharacter. 

For, indeed, weakness in many things is not inconsistent with goodness, and purity, and love. The manger has in this also a message for us. Out ofthat mystery of helplessness came forth the Lion-Heart of Love, which ledHim, for us, to the winepress alone, and which, while we were yet rebels, loved us with an everlasting love, going, for us, to a lonely and shamefuldeath. Take heart, then, remembering that it is out of weakness we are tobe made strong. Be of good courage--to-day may be the day of the enemy'sstrength, when you are constrained to cry out: "This is your hour and thepower of darkness!" but to-morrow will be _yours_. The weakness andhumiliation of the stable must go before the Mount of Transfiguration, theMount of Calvary, the Resurrection Glory, and the exaltation of theFather's Throne. Take heart!

II. 

_A condition of complete dependence may be quite consistent with a greatvocation--the call, that is, to a great work_. 

I suppose that there is nothing known to man so absolutely dependent uponthe help of others as a little child! Life itself begins in totaldependence upon another life, and is only preserved in still greaterdependence on powers outside itself--for air, for light, for heat, forfood, for clothes, for comfort--indeed, for every needed thing. This isespecially the case with the child. The young lions and sheep, the tinyflies and the small fishes--these are all able to do something for theirown support; but the new-born babe presents a picture of completedependence. And this Babe was no exception. What a service of imperishableworth to all the world was rendered by His mother in her loving care ofHim!

And yet we know something of the stupendous task to which He came! Thatlittle Child was to become the greatest Example, the greatest Teacher, thegreatest, the only Saviour, the greatest Healer of the sorrows of men, thegreatest Benefactor, the greatest Ruler and King. Upon Him and upon Hisword, who lies there in His Virgin mother's arms, dependent on her breastfor life and warmth, unnumbered multitudes were to rest their all for thislife and the next--tens of thousands, in the face of inexpressibleagonies, were to trust to Him their every hope, and for His sake were todie a thousand deaths. 

Let not, then, your heart be troubled because you also are so dependent onothers--so hedged in by your circumstances, so limited by sickness andpain, so incompetent through inexperience and ignorance, or that you areso compelled to stand and wait when you would fain rush on and do or darefor your Lord. All this may be even so, and yet you may be called to sharein the same high vocation as your Saviour. 

I read lately of an old saint chained for weary years to a dungeon-wall, unable even to feed himself, whose testimony for Jesus was powerful to thedeliverance of many of his persecutors. He was killed at last, lest, oneby one, he should convert the jailers also who were employed to supply himwith food. 

Are you "bound" in some way? Are you chained fast to some strange trial?Are you appointed to serve in what seems like a den of beasts? Are youunder the compulsion of some injustice? Are you made to feel helpless anduseless without the support of those around you? Ah, well, do not repine. Do not forget that God's call comes often--Oh, so often--to just such asyou--to witness for Him in spite of "these bonds, " to declare the truth, to dare to reprove sin. Above all, _do not doubt your God. You may bevery dependent to-day, but you may be more than victorious to-morrow_. 

III. 

_Poverty and friendlessness are oftenfound in company with a great heart_. 

There was no home for Jesus in Bethlehem. There was no room for Him in theinn. There was no cradle in the stable. There was no protector when Herodarose to kill. What a strange world it is! Did ever babe open eyes on sucha topsy-turvy condition of affairs? The King of Glory had not where to layHis head! Mary, it is true, was strong in faith, but both she and Josephmust needs soon fly into Egypt with the Babe. Refused at the inn, sooneven the stable must cast them out!

He came to take all men into His heart, and they, ere ever they saw Him, cast Him forth as an outlaw!

And we who know what it means to be loved of Him, what can we say? Ourhearts are bowed with something of shame and grief that He thus suffered, and yet we have a secret joy because He suffered so well! For of all thegreatnesses of the Babe this is the greatest--the greatness of His heart. "The Sacred Heart of Jesus, " the Romanists call it. "The All-ConqueringHeart of Jesus, " I prefer to name it. For it was His wealth of love thatreally gave Him the victory. 

Does one read these lines who is poor, who is cast out by those who aredear, who is a stranger in a strange land, who is driven from "pillar topost, " who is harassed by open foes and wounded by secret enmity? Well, tothat one let me say, remember your Lord's poverty and friendlessness;remember the tossings up and down of His infancy; the frugal cottage homein Nazareth wherein His family was finally gathered--despite its barenessand toil--was a place of peace and abundance, compared with the stable, the flight into Egypt, and the sojourn among aliens there. 

Are you, dear friend, tempted to complain of your narrow surroundings, ofyour small opportunity to shine before others, or of a want ofappreciation of your service and gifts and powers by those who should knowyou? Oh, remember the Babe, and the long years of His condescension to menof low estate, to the cramped surroundings of the carpenter's shed, andthe sleepy Jewish village. Are you tried sometimes because you have tosuffer the hatred or jealousy, secret or open, of those for whom you feelnothing but goodwill, and who perhaps once thought themselves happy inyour friendship? Well, in such hours, remember your Master, and the hatredof Herod seeking to kill the Child. Try to call to mind something of thesecret, as well as the open, bitterness of men, religious and irreligiousalike, which began to hunt Him while yet in swaddling clothes, and whichhunted Him still all through His days. 

But amidst it all, what a great heart of passionate love was His! Blessedbe His Name for ever! Whether the poverty and suffering and hatred were orwere not favourable to it, there it was--_the Great Heart of all theworld_. What about you? Can you ever be again the same since youlearned that He loved you? Can you ever be again content to remain littleand narrow, with interests and affections that are little and narrow also?Will you not rise, as He rose, above the small ambitions of the spiritualpigmies who meet you at every turn, determined to look beyond your owntiny circle, and the low aims of those around you? Depend upon it, youought to do so. Depend upon it, the Holy Saviour can enable you to do so. Depend upon it, the world's great need is "Great Hearts. " Will you be one?

IV. 

Christ Come Again. 

 "_And she brought forth her firstborn Son, and wrapped Him in swaddling clothes, and laid Him in a manger_. "--Luke ii. 7. 

 "_Christ formed in you_. "--Gal. Iv. 19. 

The life of Jesus Christ in Palestine was a foreshadowing of His life inall who accept Him. God appointed Him a Saviour, not only because Heshould bring redemption nigh by a sacrifice which He alone could offer, but because He was also appointed to be the firstborn of many brethren, tobe the head of a new family, the beginning--the new Adam--the first of anew line, in which character should cease to be merely human, even thoughperfect with all human perfections, and should become a union of the humanand the Divine; in which, in fact, the body and mind and spirit of manshould continue to exhibit the wonder of Christ's Incarnation, and showforth God clothed with man. 

The life of Jesus divides itself quite naturally into several distinctperiods, each having its own special characteristics and peculiar history. There is His birth and infancy; His childhood; His youth; His manhood; Hisperfected or completed life following Calvary and the Resurrection; and, may we not say, His eternal glory, upon which a few of His disciples sawHim begin to enter in the transcending splendour of the Ascension. 

Every one of these phases or sections of His wonderful experience of earthhas its continuing lessons for us. All speak aloud to us of His purposesand plans, and reveal to us the power and force of His inner life in theoutward or public appearances and acts which belong to each. God hashidden many things from us--mysteries of nature, of grace, of eternity;but this mystery of God's relations to men, He has exhausted His resourcesin order to make plain. Before all else the life of Jesus is a revelationof the mind and methods, the principles and the practices of God, as theyought to appear, and as they ought to work out, amid the surroundings andlimitations of humanity. 

It is to the beginnings of that life to which our thoughts turn at thisChristmas season. We dwell with affection on the oft-depicted picture, andrepeat the oft-repeated words, and join in the old, old Hallelujahs of theshepherds with something of the zest and freshness of a first love. Thestory is so unlike all others, and touches with such unerring potencychords in the human soul which call it to a higher and nobler life, that, no matter who gazes upon the Babe of Bethlehem, he feels a kinship withall the world in hailing the Desire of all Nations. The manger, the silentcompanions of the stable, the swaddling clothes--what a touch of humantenderness--_motherliness_, so to speak--is in that line, "andwrapped Him in swaddling clothes"!--the adoring shepherds, the star, thewise men (all thoughts of their wisdom for the moment gone); the gold, thefrankincense, the myrrh, the rejoicing and yet trembling mother, thelittle Child--we see it all. Seeing, we believe; and believing, werejoice. The Day Star from on High hath visited _us_. We _know_in whom we have believed. The great condescension is before us. Strengthhas made itself dependent on weakness, cause upon effect, eternity upontime, God upon man; and He has done it for our sakes. 

The Divine condescension never appears so new and so real to us as when westand at the side of this lowly cradle. Here are no high-soundingdoctrines, no hard words, no terrible commands, no far-off thunders of anew Sinai, no rumblings of a coming Judgment. Here we see Jesus, and Jesusonly. Jesus showing Himself in our very own flesh and blood; submittingHimself to the weakness of our infirmities; voluntarily clothing Himselfwith our ignorance, and making God the present tangible possession of thewhole human family, bringing Him "_very nigh to us, in our mouth and inour heart, if we can but believe_. " And, more than this, God joined inthat Babe His great strength to our great nothingness; He bound us toHimself; He robed us, as it were, with Himself, and He robed Himself inus. Henceforth the Tabernacle of God is with men. Henceforth every one ofus may be conscious of an inward Presence, of which we may say in holyjoy: "Angels and men before Him fall, and devils fear and fly. "

It is this manifestation of Jesus in His people for which the Apostleprays in the words I have quoted, "My little children, of whom I travailin birth again until Christ be formed in you. " Nothing less will satisfyhim, because he knew that nothing less will prevail against the power ofthe world, the flesh, and the Devil, in any human heart. "_Christ formedin you_, " Christ born again in them--that is his agonised prayer, hisone hope for them. 

In the workshops of human effort no instruments, no skill, no motive powerexist for the formation and development of character apart from theenergising vitality of God's Spirit dwelling in us. He is theindispensable foundation of any goodness, or wisdom, or beauty that canlast. Purity begins and ends in Him. Faith finds her author and finisherin Him. Truth, which is the beauty of the soul, is but a reflection of Hisimage, and love has no being but in Him. And so Paul says, _Let Himin_. Conformity to His example is only possible by the re-formation inyou of His life, and the growth again in you of His person; the mind ofChrist in your mind, the spirit of Christ in your spirit, the presence ofChrist in your flesh and blood; the motive power of Christ, the Father'swill, prompting your every thought and word and deed, and therebytransforming your body into a temple of the Son of God. 

And, because, in this unity of purpose with the Father, the Christ ofGlory stooped to the infancy and childhood of Nazareth, yielding Himselfcompletely to the bonds and limits inseparable from the life andconditions of a little child, and thinking no humiliation of our naturetoo deep for His love to tread, _so He will condescend to the lowestdepths of weakness and want revealed in your heart and life_. He willmeet you where you are. He will deal with you just where you are weakestand worst. This is indeed the key-note of all that God has to show you. Itis your own link in the long chain of patient and ever-new revelations ofGod to man. 

For what is the history of man, what is the story the Bible has to tell, what is the testimony of all time, but that God has ever been speaking toman, appearing to man, opening now his eyes, and now his understanding, and now his heart, and making an everlastingly new revelation to the soulthat God in him is his sole hope of glory. And His Christmas-messageto-day is still the same. To you, if you are willing, Christ will come asreally, as sensibly, as wonderfully--nay, a thousand times more so--as Hecame to Mary and to Bethlehem. In truth, a second coming; but in many andwonderful ways like unto the first. 

I. 

The childhood of Jesus was attended by remarkable recognitions of HisDivinity. At His birth, at His dedication, in Herod's instant resolve tokill Him, in the Temple with the fathers, by many clear tokens menconfessed and acknowledged that He was the Son of God. If He is beingformed in you there will be equally definite and not very dissimilar signsof recognition. 

First, before all else, you will know, with Mary, that the new lifeentrusted to you is Divine; that God has entered into your heart to makeall things new. It is just the absence of this assurance which stamps somuch of the Christianity of the present day as--in effect--a religionwithout God. Its professors have no certainty. They seek, but they do notfind; they ask, but they do not receive; they have no sure foundation inthe sanction of their own consciousness to the indwelling Person; theyhave no revelation; they have, in short, no God. How far--even as the eastis from the west--is this from the glorious confidence with which Marysang, and in which you can join, if, indeed, your Christ is come: "My souldoth magnify the Lord, and my spirit hath rejoiced _in God mySaviour_. "

Salvation is of the Lord, and so is the assurance of it. Where there isthe life of God, there will be His witness, even in the heart of theweakest and slowest servant of all His household. If you are not clearabout this first evidence of your Lord's coming, let me counsel you thatthere is something wrong. _If Christ be formed in you, you willassuredly know it beyond the power of men or devils to make you doubt_. 

But others than Mary also acknowledge this appearance of God "manifest inthe flesh. " The shepherds and the Wise Men, Holy Simeon, and Herod theking, each in his own way adds his own tribute to the New Life that hadcome down to man. 

The shepherds and the strangers from afar bow down and worship. Strangers, perhaps, were more ready to rejoice with you than your own kith and kinwhen first Christ came to you. 

Simeon, who had so desired to see the salvation of God, sees and issatisfied. Perhaps some Simeon had thus watched and waited and wept foryou, and when the Lord came to His temple, he saw it, and was ready todepart with joy. 

Herod the king sought to kill the Child. So it is even now. Don't bedeceived; where Christ comes, storms come. The world of selfishness andpower and wealth will kill the Divine Thing in you, if it can. Between theprince of this world and the Prince of the world to come no truce waspossible long ago in quiet Judea, and no truce is possible now. The spiritof the world is still the spirit of murder. It is called by other namesto-day, and, under its influence, men will tell you that the life of Godin you is not to take those forms of violent opposition to wrong, and ofpassionate devotion to right, and of burning zeal and self-denial for thelost, which they took in Jesus. The real meaning of their tale is thatthey are seeking to kill the Child. 

But do not be dismayed. Remember Mary's flight into Egypt. The great perilof her Son made her regardless of her friends, of her reputation, of herhome, of her life. She must guard that precious Life at any cost, at anyrisk, at any loss. Is there not a lesson in her example? Let nothing, letnot all the sum total of this world's pleasures and possessions lead youto risk the Life of God in your soul. Listen to no voices that counselfriendship, or parley, or compromise with the world--_the spirit ofHerod is in it_. If you cannot preserve that Indwelling without flying--from somewhere, or something, or some one--then fly. If you cannot guardthat Presence without losing all, then let all be lost, and in losing allyou shall find more than all. 

II. 

Side by side with these evidences of His Divinity the infancy andchildhood of Jesus revealed His dependence and weakness; that is, _thereality of His human nature_. 

The first recorded act of His mother shows us one aspect of that weaknessafter a fashion which appeals to the tenderest recollections of the wholehuman family, "_She wrapped Him in swaddling clothes_"; and then, asthough to mark for ever the perfection of dependence, the history goes on, "_and laid Him in a manger_. " There are other equally strikingincidents teaching just as clearly that the Babe was a babe, and that theChild was really a child. It is the perfect union of Him "Who was, and is, and is to come, " with him who flourisheth as the flower of the field; thewind passeth over him, and he is gone. 

Even so may Christ be formed in you. The purity and dignity of His lifewill be all the more wonderfully glorious in the eyes of men and angelsbecause it is linked with dependence and trial, and weakness and sorrow. As it was at Nazareth, so it is now. Hand in hand with Divinity walkedhunger and weariness, poverty, disappointment, and toil. Did we think itwould be otherwise? Did we, do we, sometimes wonder why the road is sorough, and the burden so heavy, and the sky so dark? Are we found askingthe old question about sitting on the twelve thrones, judging those aroundus, and sharing in some way the royal glory of a King? and is there anecho of murmuring at these bonds and infirmities and drudgeries of dailyduty and common sorrow? So did the Rabbis of old, and, in consequence, refused Him. 

Ah! the answer to it all is in the one word, it was because "He was madeperfect through suffering;" it was because He learned obedience by thethings He suffered that He must do it again through you--in you. Everyenergy of your being may thus be sanctified. Every pain, every sorrow, every joy, every purpose will be--not taken away; not crushed and hardenedinto a series of unfeeling forms and empty signs; not passed over ashaving no relation to his life, but touched and purified and ennobled withthe love and power of an indwelling God. 

Yes, it is _man_ whom He came to restore--it is _man_, whosebeauty and power were the glory of creation, that drew Him with infiniteattractions from the centre of His Father's heaven, and plunged Him intothe centre of a very hell of suffering and shame. It was man whose nature, passing by the angels, He took upon Him. It was man He swore to save. Heloves our manhood--its will--its intelligence--its emotions--its passions;and it is our manhood He has redeemed. He designs to make men really men, to cleanse--to restore--to indwell in them, and finally to present everyone in the beauty of a perfected character before the presence of HisFather, without spot or blemish or any such thing. 

It is this great principle of Redemption that has found expression in TheSalvation Army. We are of those who see in every human being the ruins ofthe Temple of God; but ruins which can be repaired and reconstructed, thatHe may fit them for His own possession, and then return and make them Hisabode. 

Never listen to that fatal lie, that to be a man means of necessity to bealways a sinner; that humanity is only another word for irreclaimabledesert or irreparable despair. When the enemy of your soul whispers to youout of his lying heart that because sin has found one of its strongholdsin the appetites and propensities of your poor body, or in the originalperversity of a rebellious spirit, and that you cannot be expected totriumph over that evil nature because it _is_ your nature, rememberBethlehem, and answer him with the promise of God, "_I will dwell inyou, and walk in you_. " It was because He purposed to cleanse wholly, body and soul and spirit, that He came, taking the body, soul, and spiritof a man, and that He will come again, taking your body, soul, and spiritas His dwelling-place. 

III. 

The birth and childhood of Jesus were the beginning of His greatsacrifice, as well as the preparation for it. The spirit of Bethlehem andthe spirit of Calvary are one. He was born for others that He might diefor others. The mystery of God in the Babe was the beginning of themystery of God on the cross. The one was a part of the other. If they hadnot "laid Him in a manger" for us, they could never have laid Him in thetomb, that He might "taste death for every man. " And it was because "Hegrew, and waxed strong in spirit, and increased in wisdom, and the graceof God was upon Him" in those early years, that He was able afterwards totread the winepress alone, to work out a perfect example of manhood, towrestle with Death and the Grave, and finally to stand forth for us as thegreat Victorious One, conqueror of all our foes. 

And is it not in this same fashion and for this same purpose that Christis to be formed in us? "_He grew_. " Progress is the law of happiness, the law of holiness, the law of life. To stand still is to die. It was notenough for the fulfilment of His great mission that He should be born, that He should live--He must grow. 

Let us take that lesson to our hearts, in this superficial, painted, rushing generation. Let us beware of resting our hope to satisfy theeternal claims of God upon some great event in our spiritual history oflong ago. It is not enough to have been converted. It is not enough tohave had the adoption of the Father. It is not enough to have entered thespiritual family of Christ. It is not enough that even Jesus revealedHimself in us. Thousands of false hopes are built on these past events, which, divinely wrought as they may have been, have ceased to possess anyvital connexion with the life and character of to-day. Such a religion isa religion of memory, destined to be turned in the presence of the Throneto unmixed remorse. 

But how, and in what, are we to grow? In manner and in substance like ourLord. Jesus grew in strength and stature, in wisdom and in grace--thegrace of God was upon Him. 

_In spiritual strength and stature_; that is, from the timid babe tothe bold and valiant soldier; in the power to do the things we ought todo, in the ability to obey the inward voice. It is by the exercise of themuscles and tendons of the babe that the bodily frame is fitted for therush and struggle of life. It is by the A B C of the infant class that themind is fitted to comprehend and appreciate the duties and obligations ofpolitical, social, physical, and family relationships. It is by the humblewail of the penitent, and the daily acts of loving help, that the soullearns to soar on eagles' wings, and shout the truth that God is gracious, and to brave difficulty and danger in His service. They go from strengthto strength. Are you so journeying?

_In wisdom_. Wisdom is a thing of the heart more than of the brain, and the wisdom of God is really a revelation of the love of God. To be"wise unto salvation" is to learn the lesson of love. To be "wise to winsouls" is first to love souls. To feel that "it is more blessed to givethan to receive, " is the fruit of love. How different this from thecalculating wisdom of this world!

Dear comrade and friend, are you taking care that the Divine Life in youshall grow after this Christ-like fashion? When I hear Christian peoplesay: "Oh, I have so little love, so little faith, so little joy, " Igenerally find that it is so because they stifle and quench the blessedyearnings of the Divine Spirit to seek the souls of others; because theyleave unanswered the urgings and promptings of duty which God in theirconscience is demanding; because they neglect prayer, and self-denial, andheart-searching, and the Word of God; because, in short, they starve theChild. What wonder if love and faith are feeble, and joy is like to die!

"And the grace of God was upon Him. " Here was the promise of that entiresacrifice for men which culminated when a man cried out to Him on thecross: "_He saved others; Himself He cannot save_. " It is ever thusthat God repeats Himself. When we are ready to be offered up for theblessing and saving of others, then grace will come upon us for thestruggle as it came upon Him. When Christ formed in us finds free coursefor all His mind and all His passion; when our eyes are opened to thegreat purposes of His life in the salvation of the whole world; and whenwe hear, through Him, the cry of those for whom He was born, and for whomHe died, God will pour out on us grace to send us forth--grace sufficient, grace abundant, grace triumphant. Have you come to this? Can you say He isthus dwelling in you, and working in you, to will and to do of His goodpleasure?

Do not turn away with the paralysing fear that it cannot be; that the lifeof Jesus can never be lived out again in flesh and blood. Remember, He is"_the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever_. " All He was inBethlehem, to Mary and Joseph; all He was to His work-mates at Nazareth;all He was in the wilderness, fighting with fiends, in the deserts feedingthe hungry, or among the multitude--healing the sick, blessing the littlechildren, casting out devils, and preaching the Kingdom; all He was inBethany, weeping over Lazarus, and crying, "Lazarus, come forth"; in thegarden of His agony, in the darkness of His cross, in the hour of HisResurrection, all this--all--all--all--He is to-day. _He belongs to theeverlasting Now_. All He was to the martyrs who died for His Name, allHe has been to our fathers, He is to us, and will be to our children, forwith Him is no variableness nor shadow of turning. Yes! This unchangingChrist "_is in us, except we be reprobate_, " the Life and Image ofGod, and the Hope of Glory. 

V. 

The Secret of His Rule. 

 "_For we have not an High Priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin_. "--Heb. Iv. 15. 

We hail the Christmas season as the anniversary of our King's birth. Oureyes turn to the manger, and our hearts to Mary, for a thousand and onereasons, but the chiefest is that Jesus was born in Bethlehem as theDivine Son and the Royal Branch. 

Although we know that many shadows darken the way of the Cross, and thatit is roughened by many thorns and agonies, many dark descents and wearystruggles, we have always the assurance that at the end, and at the righttime, there will be a crown and a throne. 

Standing at the manger, and looking over the hills of hatred andsuffering, we can already see the great white Throne. From the wildernessof the Temptation we can even catch a glimpse of the marriage supper ofthe Lamb. In the darkness around the cross, we have visions of a greatmultitude, which no man can number, casting their crowns at the feet ofthe Crucified. Written large on all the life of Jesus there is, in fact, the witness that He will triumph. We know and feel it. It is revealed evenwhen it is not stated. It is assured even when not promised. 

But I do not think that it is by virtue of this that Jesus Christ hasexerted His greatest influence on the hearts of men. To be a king, to bein the royal line, is a great thing; and to be the Divine King isinfinitely greater. To be a king, however, is one thing; to be a ruler isoften quite another. The right descent, the royal birth, the duerecognition, the ultimate taking possession of the throne, are enough tomake the king, but far from enough to make the ruler. 

Principles, of course, there are, very important and far-reaching, involved in any sort of kingship. We have all heard of "the divine rightof kings. " We all see--even if we cannot understand it--the love ofpeoples for a king. Even when the heads of states are called by some othername than king, the fact of kingship is still there. All this denotes theworking of great principles, having their roots in the deepest feelings ofthe human race. But I repeat, that to rule is quite another thing than tobe a king. History abounds with examples of great monarchs who have notruled, and of true rulers who have had no royal blood and no kinglythrone. 

And just as there are facts in human experience which have made kingsnecessary and possible, so are there principles by which alone it ispossible to rule. 

The kingship and rule of Jesus Christ our Lord was no exception. It is notmy purpose to dwell here on the great and unchanging demands of the humansoul which make His sovereignty a necessity of our well-being alike ascitizens, and as individuals of His world. Unless the Lord is King, allmust be confusion, dissonance, and disaster. The supreme fact in humanlife after all is, that our God is "the creator, preserver, and governorof all things. "

But what of His rule? There another principle comes into operation. Onwhat is His _rule_ based? By what agency does He extend His_authority_ until it becomes _control_?

And here it must be remembered that He aspires to rule men's hearts. Hiskingdom is moral and spiritual first, and then physical and material. Thatis why it will endure for ever. It is in the region of motive andaffection, of reason and emotion, of preference and choice, that Hedesigns to be Ruler. It is to reign in men's hearts that Christ laid asideHis heavenly crown and throne. If He cannot be a Ruler there, then He willaccount little of His kingship in the skies. 

By what, then, does He rule? _Is it not by His compassion_? Hasnot that been the chief influence which has drawn men to Him, and heldthem in His service?

Just think for a moment of one or two commonplace facts. 

I. 

_The Children_. 

At least three-fourths of the human family are always little children. Towhat does He owe the influence He exercises in the minds and hearts ofmultitudes of these little ones? His exalted throne? His royal lineage?His majesty? No; I think not to these, but to the revelation of His pity, His sympathy, His patience, His sweet, forgiving grace, His tendercompassion as a Saviour. To them He is the "Friend above all others"--theLowly One, the "Gentle Jesus, meek and mild. " Viewing Him thus, theyconfess to Him in sin, they fly to Him in sorrow. 

His creative power, His everlasting habitations, His throne ofunapproachable glory, His glorious and terrible judgments, are little moreto the children than words and phrases--may I not say?--at best but the"trappings" of His person. They solemnise, they inspire, perhaps, withreverent fear; but they do not, they could not, secure that trueascendency over the nature of the child by which alone there can be realcontrol and true rulership. 

II. 

_The Sorrowful_. 

Sorrow is the most common of all human experiences. There are no homeswithout it, and there are very few hearts which have not tasted of itscup. Earth is a vale of tears. Sooner or later, all men suffer. "Man isborn unto trouble, as the sparks fly upward, " and to millions of menChrist has appeared in their affliction and taken possession of theirlives. 

What was the secret of His influence over them? Was it His dominion fromsea to sea? Was it even His victory over death and His kingly conquest ofthe grave? Was it His sovereign throne of power? No, I do not think it wasthus He won them; but as "the Man of Sorrows and acquainted with grief, "who learned obedience by the things that He suffered, and who couldcompassionate with them in their sorrows also. 

It is one of the commonplaces of life that people associated in greatsuffering and trials obtain great influence with each other. And it is sohere. Let the human heart once realise that in its deepest depths ofsorrow it may have for helper One who has been deeper still; and it is inthe nature of things that it should fly to that One for succour, forsympathy, for strength. And when that One out of His riches gives of Hisown might, and of His own sweet, unfathomed consolations, then Hisgovernment is assured, His rule is established. 

III. 

_The Tempted_. 

Did I say that sorrow was the commonest of all human experiences? Ought Inot to have said _temptation_? We all know the reality of temptation:its biting wounds, its power to assail, to harass, to irritate, to worry;its appeals to the senses, the animal in us; its assault of ourconfidence; its liberty to terrorise and to torment. 

Yes, every man is tempted. How shall he withstand temptation? What is itin Jesus Christ that calls the sorely-tempted one to Him? Is it His divinepurity, His kingly holiness, His might as the supreme Sovereign whose lawis good? No; I think that only those who have learned to love Him willlove His law. Is it not rather the wonderful pity of Him of whom it iswritten, "We have a great High Priest, . . . Touched with the feeling ofour infirmities, . . . In all points tempted like as we are, yet withoutsin"? _Touched with the feeling of our infirmities_. There is theattraction of a supreme compassion for the tempted. There is the means bywhich the King of Righteousness becomes also the Ruler over tempted andsinful men. 

I can add but one other word now. 

If it is only by His continual compassion that our Master obtains andmaintains His rule, will it not be by a similar means that we may hope tobless and influence the souls of men? Yes; that has been already the greatlesson of The Salvation Army. It is founded on sympathy, on a universalcompassion. 

The moment we turn away from that, and rely merely on our system, or onmethods, or our teaching, we cease just in that proportion to be trueSalvationists. We aspire to rule men's hearts. We care nothing for theposition of a church or sect; we care everything for a real control overthe souls and conduct of living men and women, that we may lead them toGod and use them for His glory. It is by tenderness we shall win it. Byseeking them in their sorrows and sins; by making them feel our trueheart-hunger over them, our true love, our entire union with the Christ inHis compassion for them. 

And the same principle will hold good in training those whom we havealready won. This was, no doubt, the secret of Paul's great influence withhis people. His whole heart was theirs; and they knew it. "We were gentleamong you, " he says, "even as a nurse cherisheth her children; so, beingaffectionately desirous of you, we were willing to have imparted unto you, not the Gospel of God only, but also our own souls, because ye were dearunto us. "

We know his courage, his lofty standard, his splendid impatience of shams, his tenacity of the truth, his contempt for danger, his daring unto death;and yet he can say of himself that, with it all, he was gentle among themas a nurse cherishing her children--ready to give up his very soul forthem. 

Ah, Colonel, Captain, Sergeant, leaders all, whatever name you bear, doyou want to lead and rule the people whom God has given you as a charge?Then here is the true secret of power--be for ever pouring out yourheart's deepest, tenderest love for them, and most of all for the weak andthe most unworthy and sinful amongst them. Do this, and you will notmerely be walking after Paul--you will be walking _with_ Christ. 

VI. 

A Neglected Saviour. 

"_And He came and found them asleep again: fortheir eyes were heavy_. "--Matt. Xxvi. 43. 

I. 

There are few more instructive or more touching things in the life of ourLord Jesus Christ than His evident appreciation of human sympathy. Whetherwe observe Him at the marriage feast, or in the fishing-boat, or on theMount of Olives, or when spending a time apart with His disciples, or inthe Garden of His Agony, this appreciation expresses itself quitenaturally and consistently. The Son of Man, though one with the Father, yet found joy and comfort in the society of men. What we call"companionship" had real charms for Him. It helped to draw Him out to thehungerings and thirstings of men; it assisted in revealing to Him thefacts of human sin, and the needs of the human soul. Thus it enabled Himmore perfectly to be our living example, as well as the propitiation forour sins. 

And as He valued the consolations arising from human friendship and love, so also He had to suffer the loss of them, in order that He might carryout His great work for God and man. For His work's sake, His soul wasrequired to pass through the agony of losing every human consolation. Manywere His moments of bitterness. The world proved itself to be, what itstill remains, a cold-hearted affair; His own, to whom He came, receivedHim not. But the bitterest sorrow which can come to a leader was added toHis cup, when He witnessed the failure of His trusted disciples in thehour of trial, and when He realised that their unfaithfulness was towardsHimself as a person, as well as to the great mission to which He hadconsecrated both Himself and them. 

Now, when we are called upon to suffer in the same way, may we not bebrought into very intimate fellowship with Jesus? Shall we complainbecause the servant is not above his Lord? Shall we doubt His love, andcare, and power, because He does not always shield us from that same blastof loneliness which swept over His own soul in the Garden, when for thesecond, aye, and for the third time, He found His three disciples asleep?

II. 

Sad as it is, it is none the less certain that we, too, must expect somein whom we have trusted to fail us in that hour when we most need them, beit the hour of supreme temptation, or of great opportunity, or of deepsorrow for the Kingdom's sake. It was precisely this which happened to ourLord. It is bad to be so dependent on men--even on the most beautiful, ormost perfect souls--that we cannot fight on without them. The dependenceof love must work hand in hand with the independence of faith, if we areto take our share in this trial of our Master and to profit by it. 

Those who thus fail us will, perchance, be the very persons upon whom wehave most reason to rely, and whom in some sore trial of our faith ormoment of danger, we have specially called upon for defence and prayer, for strength and sympathy, as did our Lord in the case of these disciples. Until now, Peter had been a valiant, not to say, reckless follower ofJesus; while all, John especially, had been well beloved and tenderlywatched over by Him. And yet this woeful sleep deadens them to it all. Even for one short hour they cannot watch with Him. 

III. 

But such failure on the part of those who were loved and trusted will addimmensely to the burden of the battle that we are fighting for God and thesouls of men. It did so even to Jesus. Nothing more pathetic, more deeplyheart-moving, is written in all God's Book, than this simple picture ofthe Man of Sorrows--struggling for the life of the human race, absolutelybereft of human aid--coming in the midst of His dark conflict to seek thetouch of sympathy, a hand-grasp, a word, a look from those His well-lovedfollowers, only to find them asleep in the gloom. Retracing His steps, Hecasts Himself on the ground, and cries, "My Father, if it be possible, letthis cup pass from Me. " Am I wrong in saying that it was an addedingredient of bitterness in that cup to find that these, His trusted ones, could only sleep, while He must go forward to suffer?

But their failure did not stop Him. No, not for one moment. There wasagony in His heart, there were death shadows around Him, and bloody sweatupon His brow, but He did not waver. He went right on to finish the workHe had promised to do. Gladly would He have had them with Him; steadfastlyHe goes forward without them! Here also is a lesson for you and for me. _The work is more than the worker_. And in times when we must lose, for our work's sake, that which we count dearer to us than our lives, whenthe iron of disappointed love enters our souls, as it entered His, we mustfollow Him, and go forward, steadfastly forward. 

IV. 

And after all, the failure of the disciples was very human. Their eyeswere heavy. They were weary and sore tired. This, too, is typical of manyof the losses we Salvationists are called upon to suffer. Some on whom wehave relied and trusted grow weary in well-doing. The strain is so great!The tax on brain and heart and hand is so constant! Life becomes soburdened with watchings and prayings and sufferings for and with others, that there is little, if any, time or strength left for oneself! And sothey cannot keep up, but seek rest and quiet for themselves elsewhere. They are heavy, and no longer feel the need to watch with us. 

Dear comrade, in your like trial do not doubt that the Lord Jesus is withyou. Suffering of this kind will help to liken you to Him--it is a veryreal bearing of the Cross of Christ. Pitiful followers of Him should webe, if we wished to have only joy when He had only suffering. 

V. 

But the disciples' strange failure did not call forth one word ofbitterness from our Lord's lips. A gentle reproach was certainly impliedin the words, "Could ye not watch with Me one hour?" but no shade ofpersonal displeasure expressed itself, much as the occasion might seem towarrant it. No! Jesus knew the failures begotten of human weakness, aswell as the horror of human sin. And so He made allowances, and was aspatient with those who left Him, as He was tender to those who weresteadfast. He loved them both. 

Go thou, and do likewise. In your home; in your family circle; in yourCorps; in your office; in your work, be it what it may; when men fail andforsake your Lord; even if all disappoint and desert you, _you must lovethem still_. Be faithful with them; but, above all, be steadfast inyour own purpose, and devote all your zeal and strength to finish the workthat God has given you to do. In short, go forward without them; but letyour words, and thoughts, and prayers for them be like your Master's. 

And Jesus utters no word of complaint about this failure. The silence allthrough that great anguish is indeed very wonderful. Abandoned by man, Heabandoned Himself all the more earnestly to His work for men without amurmur. And abandoned by God--as for a little time it seemed--He all themore completely abandoned Himself to God. To have fellowship with Him, youand I will have to walk the same path, and mind the same rule. 

When friends, or followers, or comrades trample upon the solemn covenantsmade alike to us and to God, and forsake, and leave us to finish our workand tread our winepress alone, let there be no moaning because of the painit inflicts. When those upon whom we had a right--right by reason ofnatural law, or right by reason of the obligations and precious vows offriendship, or right on the ground of spiritual indebtedness--when those, I say, upon whom we had a right to depend fail us, let there be nocomplaining of their treatment because it is painful to us. Let there beno filling of the earth with laments and wailings, no accusing of ouraccusers, no reviling of those who revile us. Let us be silent in thepatience of Jesus and in the strength of His love, and let His way ofmeeting the loneliness of desertion be our way--let us pray. 

But all the same, that sleep, that failure to respond to the personalclaim of Jesus, was a sure forerunner of the cowardly flight, and thedeadly denial which followed it. The seeds of Peter's lies and curses weresown in the selfishness and slumber of the garden; they came to maturityin the kitchen of the judgment hall. Poor Peter! How many hours of bitterself-reproach would you have been spared, had you but held out during thatone brief hour of your watch in Gethsemane! How differently we could haveregarded your poor wobbling nature! How differently, too, your Lord'sgreat trial would have come to Him! How different might have been thehistory of mankind!

VI. 

The method of love which Jesus adopted towards the forsakers received thesanction of success, _for they all came back_. In spite of theirshame and their fears, they returned to their allegiance, with, I think, much more than their old faith and love. Judas was the only exception, andeven he sought a place of repentance, and, but for his horrid league withthe jealous and cruel religionists, would, I think, have found one. 

You see the lesson? If you go on with your work for God, and finish it, paying no heed to those who, having put their hand to the plough, lookback; and if, in spite of your sorrow, you will struggle steadily forwardin the face of the coldness and carelessness of those between whom and youthere was once the tenderest love, God will not only carry you throughyour appointed labour for the world, but He will restore many of thoseothers to their allegiance to Him and His. 

Will they ever be quite the same? Will they not have lost something? Yes, they will indeed have lost; but, if they come back, in reality they willgain more. The new union will be more divine than the former one. Theywill not merely

 . . . Rise on stepping stones Of their dead selves to higher things;

but the beauty, and excellence, and glory of love, the exceedingprofitableness of enduring grace, and the sweet aroma of faithfulness, will be the more clearly manifest to the sons of men by reason of theweakness and breakableness of the human vessel. 

Let us, then, press forward, without one backward glance, until we finishour work. Let us thank God for those who are faithful; let us love andpray for those who fail, expecting to see them restored, healed, andpurified. 

VII. 

Windows in Calvary. 

 "_And they crucified Him . . . And sitting down they watched Him there_. "--MATT, xxvii. 35, 36. 

Passing words spoken in times of deep emotion often reveal human charactermore vividly than a lifetime of talk under ordinary circumstances. Conductwhich at other times is of the most trifling significance, reveals in thehour of fiery trial, the very inwards of the soul, even making manifestthat which has been hidden, perhaps, for a generation. Thus, whilewatching a man with the opportunity and the temptation to deceive oroppress those who are in his power, you may see into the very thoughts ofhis heart; you may learn what he really is. Or you may measure the depthsof a mother's love in observing her when, after violating every principleshe has valued and lived for, her prodigal boy comes to ask her to takehim in once more. 

In the same way, words spoken by the dying are often like windows suddenlyuncovered, through which one may catch a glimpse of the ruling passion oflife, in the light of which their life-witness and life-labour alike lookdifferent. It is this fact which often gives the dying hour of themeanest, importance as well as solemnity. The veriest trifler that evertrifled through this vale of tears has, in that last solemn hour somethingto teach of the secrets of mortality. 

And this revelation of the real facts of human experience is of thehighest value to the world. It is one of God's witnesses to truth, _thattruth will out_. Sooner or later, selfishness and sin will_appear_ in their naked deformity, to horrify those who behold them;and in the end, justice and truth and love are certain to be made manifestin their natural beauty, to convince and to charm and to attract theirbeholders. 

It is not only one of the uses of trial to bring this about, but it is oneof the means by which God converts to His own high purposes, the miseriesand sorrows the Devil has brought in. The one burns the martyrs; the otherbrings out of that cruel and frightful wrong the glorious testimony whichis the very seed of His Church. The one casts us into fiery dispensationsof suffering and loss; the other takes these moments of human anguish anddesolation, and makes of them open windows through which a doubting orscoffing world may see what love can do. Thus He makes us to triumph Inthe midst of our foes, while working in us a likeness to Himself, theAll-patient and All-perfect God. 

Nor is it the good and true alone who are thus made object-lessons toothers, and to themselves, by these ordeals of pain. By them, many a badman also is forced to appear bad to himself. Many a hypocrite, anxiousabout the opinions and the traditions of men, is at last stripped of hislies to see himself the wretched fraud he really is. Many aheart-backslider, whose religion has long ceased to be anything but amemory, awakes to the shame of it and to the danger; and often, thank God, awakes in time. 

Now, the words of the dying Christ on His cross are, in the same way, atrue and wonderful revelation of His character and His spirit. As it isonly by the light of the sun that we see the sun, so it is by Jesus thatJesus is best revealed. Never one spake like He spake; and yet in thisrespect, so real was His humanity, He spake like us all--He spake out whatwas in Him. _The Truth_ must, above all, and before all, makemanifest what is true of Himself. 

To whom, then, did our Lord speak on the tree, and what spake He? Whatspecial thoughts and beauties of His soul do His words reveal?

Jesus, so far as His words have been recorded for us, spoke from the crossto Mary His mother, to one of the thieves who was crucified with Him, toGod His Father, and to Himself. 

I. 

_His Words to Mary_. 

 "_When Jesus therefore saw His mother, and the disciple standing by, whom He loved, He saith unto His mother, Woman, behold thy son! Then saith He to the disciple, Behold thy mother_!"

The position of Mary in those last hours was peculiarly grievous. She hadlived to see the breaking down of every hope that a mother's heart couldcherish for her son. Standing there amidst that mob of relentless enemies, and watching Jesus, forsaken by God and man in His mortal agony, herpresent sorrow, great as it was, was crowned by the memory of the holy andhappy anticipations of His birth, and the maiden exultations of her soulwhen the angels foretold that her Son should be the Saviour of His peopleand their King. How cruelly different the reality had turned out! How far, how very far away, would seem to her the quiet days in Nazareth, therapture of her Son's first innocent embraces, and the evening communionswith Him as He grew in years! What tender memories the sight of those dearbleeding feet, those outstretched, wounded hands, would recall to thatmother's heart! Yes, Mary on Calvary is to me a world-picture of desolate, withering, and helpless grief--of pain increased by love, and of loveintensified by pain!

And Jesus in His great agony--the Man of Sorrows come at last to thewinepress that His heart might be broken in treading it alone; come to thehour of His travail; come to the supreme agony of the sin-offering; faceto face with the wrath of the Judge, blackness and tempest and anguishblotting out for the moment even the face of the Father--forsaken at last--FORSAKEN--Jesus, in this depth of midnight darkness sees her standing bythe cross. Bless Him, Oh, ye that weep and mourn in this vale of tears!Bless Him for ever! His eyes are eyes for the sorrowful. _He seesthem_. He has tears to shed with them. He is touched with the samefeelings and moved by the same griefs. He sees Mary, and speaks to her, and in a word gives her to John, and John to her, for mutual care andlove. It was as though He said, "Mother, you bare Me; you watched andsuffered for Me, and in this redeeming agony of My love, I remember youranguish, and I take you for ever under My care, and I name you Mine. "

Surely, there never was sorrow like unto His sorrow, and yet in itsdarkest crisis He has eyes and heart for this one other's sorrow. Far fromHim, as the east from the west, is any of that selfish thought and selfishseclusion which grief and pain so often work in the unsanctified heart, aye, and in the best of us. What a lesson of practical love it is! What amessage--especially to those who are called to suffer with Him for thesouls of men--comes streaming from those words spoken to Mary. The burdenof the people's needs, the care of the Church, the awful responsibility ofministering to souls--these things, sacred as they may be, cannot excuseus in neglecting the hungry hearts of our own flesh and blood, or inforgetting the claims of those of our own household. 

Dear friend and comrade, in _your_ sorrow, in your sore trial offaith, in _your_ Calvary, take to your heart this revelation of theheart of the Son of Man, and be careful of the solitary and heart-bleedingones near you, no matter how humble and how unworthy they may seem. 

II. 

_His Words to the Thief_. 

 "_And Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, To-day shall thou be with Me in Paradise_. "

The crucifixion of the two robbers with Jesus was a sort of topstone ofobloquy and disgrace contrived by His murderers with the double object offurther humiliating Him in the eyes of the people, and of adding poignancyto His own agony. The vulgarity and shamefulness of it were the last touchof their contempt, and the last stroke of His humiliation. There was akind of devilish ingenuity in this circumstantial way of branding Him as amalefactor. And yet in the presence of this extremity of human wickednessand cruelty, Jesus found an opportunity of working a wondrous work of God;a work which reveals Him as the Saviour, strong to save, both by Hisinfinite mercy and by His infinite confidence in the efficacy of His ownsacrifice. 

"_To-day shalt thou be with Me in Paradise_. " Eyes and heart for the_sorrowful_ He had, as we see; and now ears, and hope nigh at hand, for the _sinful_. No word of resentment; no sense of distance orseparation between the spotlessness and perfection of His character andthis poor lonely convict--but a strange and wonderful nearness, now and tocome. "_With Me_, " He says--"_With Me in Paradise_. " Ah! this isthe secret of much in the life of the Son of God--this intimate, constant, conscious nearness to sinners and to sin! He had sounded the depth ofevil, and, knowing it, He pitied, with an infinite compassion, itsvictims; He got as near as He could to them in their misery, and died tosave them from it. 

That heart-nearness to the thief had nothing to do with the nearness ofthe crosses. Every one knows what a gulf may be between people who arevery near together--father and son--husband and wife! No, it was thenearness of a heart deliberately trained to seek it; a heart delighting inmercy, and deliberately surrendering all other delights for it; hungeringand thirsting for the love of the lost and ruined. 

 The hart panteth after the waters, The dying for life that departs, The Lord in His glory for sinners For the love of rebellious hearts. 

And so He is quite ready, at once, to share His heaven with this poordefiled creature, the first trophy of the cross. Again--what a lesson oflove!--how different, all this, from the common inclination to shrink awayfrom contact and intercourse with the vile! Oh, shame, that there can everhave been such a shrinking in our poor guilty hearts! The servant is notabove his Lord. He came to sinners. Let us go to them with Him!

III. 

_His Words to the Father_. 

 "_Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do_. "

This prayer for His murderers is a revelation of the wonderful nearnessand capacity of love. The Saviour passes from pole to pole of human ken, to find a ground on which He can plead for the forgiveness of those crueland wicked men; and He finds it in their ignorance of the stupendousnessof their sin against Him. It seems as though He chooses to remain inignorance of what they did know, and to dwell only on what they did not. "They know not what they do!"

It was ever so with Him! He has no pleasure in iniquity. Wrong-doers areso precious to Him that He never will magnify or exaggerate their wrong--no, not a hair's breadth. He will not dwell on it--no, not a moment, except to plead some reasonable ground for its pardon, such as this--theignorance of the wrong-doer, or the rich efficacy of His sacrifice. Hewill only name sin to the Father, in order that He may confess it for thesinner, and intercede for mercy and for grace. 

This is the old and ever new way of dealing with injuries, especially"personal injuries. " _Is it yours_? Are you seeking thus afterreasons for making the wrong done to you appear pardonable? Is your firstresponse to an affront or insult or slander, or to some still greaterwrong, to pray the Father for those whom you believe to be injuring you, that His gracious gift of forgiveness may come upon them?

That is the principle of Calvary. That is the spirit, the mind of Christ. That is the way in which

 He won the meed and crown: Trod all His foes beneath His feet, By being trodden down. 

"_Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit_. "

Death has always been held to afford a final test of faith, and here thehuman soul of Jesus passed through that mortal struggle which awaits usall when heart and flesh shall fail. "_Into Thy hands_"--that isenough. As He passes the threshold of the unknown--goes as we must--intothe Valley of the Shadow, faith springs forth and exclaims, "Into Thyhands. " All shall be well. In this confidence I have laboured; in thisconfidence I die; in this confidence I shall live before Thee. 

IV. 

_To Himself_. 

 "_It is finished_!"

Thus in His last, ever-wonderful words Jesus pronounces Himself thesentence of His own heart upon His own work. _It is completed. _ Everybarrier is broken down, every battle is fought, every hellish dart hasflown, every wilderness is past, every drop of the cup of anguish has beendrunk up, and, with a note of victorious confidence, He cries out, "It isfinished!" Looking back from the cross on all His life in the light ofthese words, we see how He regarded it as an opportunity for accomplishinga great duty, and for the fulfilment of a mission. Now, He says, "The dutyis done--the mission is fulfilled; the work is finished!" Truly, it is alofty, a noble, yea, a godlike view of life!

Is it ours? Death will come to us. "The living know that they shall die. "The waters will overflow, and the foundations will be broken up, and everyprecious thing will grow dim, and our life, also, will have passed. Weshall then have to say of something, "_It is finished_!" It will betoo late to alter it. "There is no man that hath power in the day ofdeath. "

_What, then, shall it be that is finished_? A life of selfish ease, or a life of following the Son of Man? A life of sinful gratification, ofcareful thought of ourselves, unprofitable from beginning to end, or alife of generous devotion to the things which are immortal in the honourof God and the salvation of men?

VIII. 

The Burial of Jesus. 

Good Friday Fragments. 

 "_And after this Joseph of Arimathoea, being a disciple of Jesus, but secretly for fear of the Jews, besought Pilate that he might take away the body of Jesus: and Pilate gave him leave. He came therefore, and took the body of Jesus. And there came also Nicodemus, which at the first came to Jesus by night, and brought a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about an hundred pound weight. Then took they the body of Jesus, and wound it in linen clothes with the spices, as the manner of the Jews is to bury. Now in the place where He was crucified there was a garden; and in the garden a new sepulchre, wherein was never man yet laid. There laid they Jesus therefore, because of the Jews' preparation day; for the sepulchre was nigh at hand_. "--John xix. 38-42. 

Death has many voices. This death and burial speak aloud in tones oftriumph. It as a death that made an end of death, and a burial that buriedthe grave. And yet it was also a very humble and painful and sad affair. We must not forget the humiliation and poverty and shame written on everycircumstance any more than the victory, if we would learn by it all thatGod designed to teach. 

I

"_He tasted Death_. "

To many, even among those who have been freed from guilty fear, mortalityitself still has terrors. By Divine grace they can lift up their hearts insure and certain hope of a glorious resurrection, and yet they shrink withpainful apprehension at the thought of the change which alone can makethat resurrection possible. There is probably no instinct of the wholehuman family more frequently in evidence than this repulsion for thegrave. Death is such an uncouth and hideous thing. 

 Nothing but bones The sad effect of sadder groans; Its mouth is open, but it cannot sing. 

All its outward circumstances help to repel us--the shroud, the coffin, the grave, the silent shadows, the still more silent worms, the finalnothingness. The mental conditions, too, generally common to the last actsof life, tend to intensify the feeling: the separation from much that welove, the sense of unfinished work, the appreciation of grief which deathmost usually brings to others: the reality of disappointed hopes, thefeeling that heart and flesh fail, and that we can do no more--all thesetend to make it in very truth the great valley of the dark shadow. 

To many, even among the chosen spirits of the household of faith, approaching death also starts the great "_Why_?" of unbelief. For, intruth, the death of some is a mystery. It is better that we should say so, and that they should say so, rather than that we should profess to be ableto account for what, as is only too evident, we do not understand. Inconfronting death this mystery is often the great bitterness in the cup. To die when so young! To die when so much needed! To die so soon afterreally beginning to live! To die in the presence of so great a task! Oh, why should it be? How much of gloom and shadow has come down on hearts andhouseholds I have known, from the persistency of that "Why?" intensifyingevery repulsion for the hideous visitor, adding to every other thegreatest of all his terrors--_doubt_. 

Now, in the presence of such doubts--or perhaps I ought rather to callthem questionings and shrinkings--has not this vision of the dead body ofour Lord something in it to charm away our fears? Does it not say to us:"I have passed on before; I that speak in righteousness, Mighty to save. Ihave trodden the winepress alone. At My girdle hang the keys of life anddeath; I, even I, was dead; yes, really, cruelly dead; but I am alive forevermore"?

_He tasted death_. The king of terrors was out to meet Him. The longshadows of the gloomy valley really closed Him round, and He crossed overthe chilly stream just as you and I must cross it--all alone. Nothing waswanting which could invest the scene, the hour, the circumstances withhorror and repulsion. There was pain, bodily pain; there was mentalanguish; there was the howling mob, the horrid contempt for Him as for amalefactor; the lost disciples and shattered hopes; the reviling thief;the mystery of the Father's clouded face; the final sinking down; theletting go of life; the last physical struggle--when He gave up the ghostand died. 

Yes. He passed this same way before you. He wore a shroud. He lay in agrave. The last resting-place is henceforth for us fragrant withimmortality. The very horrors, and shadows, and mysteries of thedeath-chamber have become signs that death is vanquished. The tomb is butthe porch of a temple in which we shall surely stand, the doorway to theplace of an abiding rest. "In My Father's house are many mansions: if itwere not so, I would have told you. "

Living or dying--but especially when dying--we have a right to cry withStephen, the first to witness for Christ in this horror of death, "LordJesus, receive my spirit. " To Him we commit all. He passed this way beforewith a worn and bruised body, in weakness and contempt, with dyed garmentsand red in His apparel, and on Him we dare to cast ourselves--on Him andHim alone. On His merits, on His blood, on His body, dead and buried forus. He will be with us even to the end--_He has passed this way beforeus_. 

II. 

"_A Savour of Death unto Death. _"

A celebrated Roman Emperor who had in the very height of his powerembarked on a campaign for the extermination, with all manner ofcruelties, of the followers of Jesus Christ, spoke one day to a Christian, asking him in tones of lofty contempt and derision:--

"What, then, is the Galilean doing now?"

"_The Galilean_, " replied the Christian, "_is making a coffin_!"In a few years the great Emperor and the vast power he represented wereboth in that coffin!

Since his day, how many other persecutors have also journeyed surely toit! How many infidels--nay, how many systems of infidelity, have passed onto dust and oblivion in that same casket! What multitudes of doubters--ofungodly, unclean, unregenerate--have been laid within its ever-wideningbands! What vast unions of darkness, hatred, and cruelty, under theleadership of the great and the mighty, have been broken to pieces besidethat coffin! How much that seemed for a time proud and rich and great inthis poor world's esteem, has at last passed into it, and disappeared forever! Yes, the martyr of long ago, on the blood-besmeared stones ofpersecuting Rome, was right, the Galilean Saviour and King not only made aCross, but He made, and He goes on making, a coffin!

Will _you_ not have His Cross? Is there no appeal to you to-day fromthat hill side, without the city wall? Does it not speak to _you_ ofthe power, the sweetness and nobleness of a life of service, of sacrificefor others, of toil for His world. Has it no message for _you_ ofvictory over sin and death, of life from the dead--life, abundant life, inthe Blood of the Son of Man! Believe me, unless you accept His Cross, Hewill prepare for you a coffin. "The _wages_ of sin is death. " Itmatters not how noble your aspirations, how lofty your ideals of life andconduct, how faithful your labour to raise the standard of your own life--unless you accept the Cross, all must go into the grave. Your highestaims, together with your lowest, your most cherished conceptions, yourmost deeply-loved ambitions, all must be entombed. "Whosoever shall fallon this stone shall be broken, but on whomsoever it shall fall it willgrind him to powder. "

If His death-sacrifice be not a savour of life unto life it must be asavour of death unto death. This is the single alternative. Jesus Christin life and death is working in you, in us all, toward one of these ends--either by love and tears and the overflowing fountain of His passion togather us into the union of eternal life with Him and with the Father; orto entomb us--all that we have and all that we are--in the death andoblivion of the grave He has prepared. 

III. 

"_And He was Buried_. "

For a little time they lost Him. The grave opened her gloomy portals; theylaid Him down, and the gates were closed--for a little time. And yet Hewas just as really there, as really alive for evermore, as really theirsand ours, as really a victor--nay, a thousand times more so, than if Hehad never bowed Himself under the yoke of Nature. He was gone on before, just a little while, that was all. 

Is not that the lesson of His burial for every one who sorrows for theloss of loved ones called up higher? Are they not buried with Him? Arethey not gone on before? Are they not ours still? Are we not theirs asreally as ever? He passed through that brief path of darkness and deathout into the everlasting light of the Resurrection Glory. Do you think, then, that He will leave them behind? The grave could not contain_Him_. Do you think it has strength to hold _them_? You cannotthink of Him as lying long in the garden of Joseph of Arimathaea; why, then, should you think of your dear ones as in the chilly clay of thatpoor garden in which you laid them? No--no! they are alive--alive forevermore; because He lives, they live also. 

Yes! this was the meaning of that strange funeral of His--this was atleast one reason why they buried Him. It was that He might hold a flamingtorch of comfort at every burial of His people to the end of time. Sorrownot, then, as those that have no hope. He is hope. Your lost ones, perhaps, were strongly rooted in your affection, and your heart was tornwhen they were plucked up. You cried aloud with the Prophet: "Woe is me, for my hurt! my wound is grievous. But I said, Truly this is a grief, andI must bear it; my tabernacle is spoiled, and all my cords are broken. "Ah, but remember He was buried also. He knows about the way. He was there. He has them in His keeping. They are His, and yours still. You have nomore need to grieve over their burial than over His. They live, they love, they grow, they rejoice. They are blessed for evermore. 

And our dear dead will meet us again, if we are faithful, in those bodieswhich our Lord has redeemed. That also is the witness of His burial andresurrection. The corruptible shall put on incorruption. In the twinklingof an eye shall it be done. And we shall see them in the body once more, even as His disciples saw Him. They supposed at first that they saw aspirit, but He said: No! "Behold My hands and My feet, that it is IMyself: handle Me, and see; for a spirit hath not flesh and bones, as yesee Me have!"

This blessed hope is our hope. Love is indeed stronger than death; manywaters, nay, the swellings of Jordan themselves, cannot quench it! Dearones, gone on before, we shall embrace you again; hand in hand--the verysame hands--we shall greet our King:--

 Together we'll stand When escaped to the shore, With palms in our hands We Will praise Him the more; We'll range the sweet plains On the banks of the river, And sing of Salvation For ever and ever. 

Yes--we know and love you still, because we know and love our Lord. 

IX. 

Conforming to Christ's Death. 

 "_That I may know Him . . . Being made conformable unto His death_. "--Phil. Iii. 10. 

"_Conformable unto His death_. " At first sight the words aresomething of a surprise. "_His death?_" Has not the thought moreoften before us been to conform to _His life_? His death seems "toohigh for us"--so far off in its greatness, in its suffering, in itshumiliation, in its strength, in its glorious consequences. How is itpossible we should ever be conformed to such a wonder of love and power?And yet, here is the great Apostle, in one of those beautiful andilluminating references to his own experience which always seem to bringhis messages right home to us, setting forth this very conformity as theend of all his labours, and the purpose in all his struggles. "What thingswere gain to me, " he says, "those I counted loss for Christ; yea, I countall things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus myLord: for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and do count thembut dung, that I may win Christ, and be found in Him*, having . . . Therighteousness which is of God by faith: that I may know Him, and the powerof His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, _being madeconformable unto His death_. "

[Footnote *: Or, as the Revised Version has it in the margin, "not havingas my righteousness that which springs from the law; but that which isthrough faith in Christ, the righteousness which is of God on thecondition of faith: . . . Becoming conformed unto His death. "]

There are probably deeps of thought and purpose here which I confess thatI cannot hope to fathom; which in the limits of such a paper as this Icannot even suggest. Is it possible, for example, that the sorrow andsuffering which fall upon those who are entirely surrendered to God andHis work are, in some hidden way, sorrow and suffering for others? Is thiswhat Paul means when he says in his letter to the Colossians: I "fill upthat which is behind of the afflictions of Christ, in my flesh, for Hisbody's sake, which is the Church"? It may be so. This would indeed be aglorious and a wonderful "_fellowship of His sufferings_. "

Or, again, consider what an entirely new light might be thrown upon God'sdealings with us in afflictions and pain, if it should appear, in theworld to come, that, in much which is now most mysterious and torturing tous, we had but been bearing one another's burdens! Every one knows howoften love makes us long to bear grief and pain for those dear to us;every one has seen a mother suffer, in grateful silence, both bodily painand heart-anguish, in her child's stead, preferring that the child shouldnever know. Suppose it should turn out, hereafter, that many of theafflictions which now seem so perplexing and so grievous have really beengiven us to bear in order to spare and shield our loved ones, and make iteasier for them--tossing on the stormy waters--to reach Home at last?Would not this add a whole world of joy to the glory which shall berevealed? And would it not transform many of the darkest stretches of ourearthly journey into bright memorials of the infinite wisdom and goodnessof our God?

But I pass away from matters of which we have, at best, but a gleam, tothose concerning which "he that runs may read. "

But if Christ upon His cross is meant for an object-lesson to His people, is it not reasonable to expect that His words spoken in those suprememoments should throw light upon that conformity to His death of which weare thinking? The words of the dying have always been received asrevealing their true character. Death is the skeleton-key which opens theclosed chambers of the soul, and calls forth the secret things--and in thepresence of the "Death-Angel" men generally appear to be what they reallyare. Our Lord and Saviour was no exception to this universal rule. 

 To the latest breath, We see His ruling passion strong in death. 

His dying words are filled with illuminating truth about Himself, and theythrow precious light upon His death. Let us, then, tarry for a few momentsbefore His cross, and look and listen while He speaks. 

I. 

"_Father, forgive them; they know not what they do_. "

Men were doing the darkest deed of time. Nothing was wanting to make ithateful to God and repulsive to mankind. All the passions to which thehuman heart is prone, and all that the spirits of Hell can prompt, hadjoined forces at Calvary to finish off, in victory if possible, the blackrebellion which began in Eden. Everything that is base in human nature--the hate that is in man, the beast that is in man, the fiend that is inman--was there, with hands uplifted, to slay the Lamb. The servants of theHusbandman were beating to death the beloved Son whom He had sent to seektheir welfare. It was amidst the human inferno of ingratitude and hatredthat these words of infinite grace and beauty fell from the lips of LoveImmortal. Long nails had just pierced the torn flesh and quivering nervesof His dear hands and feet; and while He watched His murderers' awfuldelight in His agony, and heard their jeering shouts of triumph, He liftedup His voice and prayed for them, "_Father--forgive_. "

There are thoughts that lie too deep for words. The inner light of thismessage may be revealed--it cannot be spoken. But one or two reflectionswill repay our consideration. Here was a consciousness of sin. Here wasthe suggestion of pardon. Here was prayer for sinners. 

A _consciousness of sin_--of theirs--ours--not His own. Infinite Lovetakes full account of sin. Boldly recognises it. Straightway refers to itas the source of men's awful acts and awful state. "_O My Father, forgive_!" On the cross of His shame, in the final grip with the mortalenemy, the dying Christ--looking away from His own sufferings, forgetfulof the scorn, and curses, and blows of those around Him--is overflowingwith this great thought, with this great _fact_--that men's firstimperative, overwhelming need, is the forgiveness of their sin. 

_The suggestion of pardon_. He prays for it. What a transformingthought is the possibility of forgiveness! How different the vilest, themost loathsome criminal becomes in our eyes the moment we know a pardon ison the way! How different a view we get of the souls of men, bound andcondemned to die, given up to selfishness and godlessness, the moment westand by the cross of Jesus, and realise, with Him, that a pardon ispossible! The meanest wretch that walks looks different from us. Even theoutwardly respectable and very ordinary person who lives next door, towhom we so seldom speak, is at once clothed with a new interest in ourminds, if we really believe that there is a pardon coming for him from theKing of kings. 

He _prays_. Yes, this is the great prayer. What an example He hasleft us! It was not enough to die for the sinful--the ungrateful--theabominable--He must needs pray for them. Dear friend, you may have donemany things for the ungodly around you--you may have preached to them, andset them also a lofty example of goodness; you may even have greatlysuffered on their behalf; but I can imagine one thing still wanting: haveyou prayed the Father for them?

Remember, He pleaded for the worst: those very men who said, "Let Hisblood be on us, and on our children. " He prayed even for those, and I donot doubt that He was heard. Indeed, it was, I earnestly believe, Hisprayer which helped on that speedy revival in Jerusalem; and among thethree thousand over whom Peter and the rest rejoiced were some who hadurged on and then witnessed His cruel death, and for whom His tenderaccents ascended to the Throne of God amid the final agony of His cross. 

Dear friend, are you "becoming conformed unto His death"?

II. 

"_To-day shalt thou be with Me in Paradise_. "

"_He saved others-He saved others--Himself He cannot save!_" Amidstthe din of discordant voices, this taunt sounded out clear and loud, andfell upon the ears of a dying thief. Perhaps, as so often happens now, theDevil over-reached himself even then, and the strange words made the poorcriminal think. "_'Others'--'others'--He saves others--then why notme?_" Presently he answered the railing unbelief of his fellow-prisoner;and then, in the simple language of faith, said to the Saviour: "Lord, remember me when Thou comest into Thy Kingdom. "

Jesus Christ's reply is one of the great landmarks of the Bible. Itdenotes the boundary line of the long ages of dimness and indefinitenessabout two things--_assurance of salvation in this life, and certainty ofimmediate blessedness in the life to come_. "To-day shalt thou be withMe in Paradise!" There is nothing like it in all the Scriptures. It is asthough great gates, long closed, were suddenly thrown wide open, and wesaw before our eyes that some one passed in where none had ever troddenbefore. The whole freedom and glory of the Gospel is illustrated at onestroke. Here is the Salvation of The Salvation Army! To-day--without anyceremonies, baptisms, communions, confirmations, without the mediation ofany priest or the intervention of any sacraments--such things would indeedhave been only an impertinence there--to-day, "TO-DAY shalt thou be withME. " Indeed the gates are open wide at last!

But the great lesson of the words lies rather in their revelation of_our Lord's instant accessibility to this poor felon_. His nearnessof heart; His complete confidence in His own wonderful power to save; Hisreadiness of response--for it may be said that He leaps to meet this firstrepentant soul--are all revealed to us. But it is the fact that, amid thatawful conflict, His ear was open to another's cry--and such another!--which appeals most to my own heart. With those blessed words of hope andpeace in my ears, how can I ever fear that one could be so vile, so faraway, so nearly lost, as to cry in vain? Nay, Lord, it cannot be. 

III. 

"_Woman, behold thy son_. "

When Jesus had spoken these words to His mother, He addressed the discipleHe had chosen, and indicated by a word that henceforth Mary was to becared for as his own mother. Great as was the work He had in hand for theworld, great as was His increasing agony, He remembered Mary. He knew themeaning of sorrow and loneliness, and He planned to afford His mother suchfuture comfort and consolation as were for her good. 

This tender care for His own is a rebuke, for all time, to those who willwork for others while those they love are left uncared for; left, alas! toperish in their sins. If regrets are possible in the Kingdom of Heaven, surely those regrets will be felt most keenly in the presence of dividedfamilies. And if anything can enhance the joys of the redeemed, surely itmust be that they are "families in Heaven. " Who can think, even now, without a thrill of unmixed delight, of the reunions of those who for longweary years were separated here? What, then, will it be--

 When the child shall greet the mother, And the mother greet the child; When dear families are gathered That were scattered on the wild!

And what strength and joy it was to Mary. Looking forward to the comingvictory, He knew that nothing could so possess her mother-heart withgratitude, and fill her soul with holy exultation as this--that He, theSacrifice for sin, the Conqueror of Death, and the Redeemer of His people, was _her Son_. And so He makes it quite plain that He, the dyingSaviour, was Mary's Son. 

IV. 

"_It is finished_. "

There is a repose, a kind of majesty about this declaration which marks itout from all other human words. There is, perhaps, nothing about the deathof Jesus which is in more striking contrast with death as men generallyknow it than is revealed in this one saying. We are so accustomed toregrets, to confessions that this and that are, alas! _unfinished_;to those sad recitals which so often conclude with the dirge-like refrain, "it might have been, " that death stands forth in a new light when it isviewed as the end of a completed journey, and the conclusion of a finishedtask. This is exactly the aspect of it to which our Lord refers. His workwas done. 

The suffering, also, was ended. Darkness had had its night of sore trial, and now the day was at hand. Trial and suffering do end. It is sometimeshard to believe it, but the end is already appointed from the beginning. It was so with the Saviour of the world; and at length the hour is come, and He raises His bruised and bleeding head for the last time, and criesin token of His triumph, "_It is finished_!"

But is there not also here a suggestion of something more? _Up to thatconcluding hour it was always possible for Him to draw back. _ "I laydown My life for the sheep, " He had said; "no man taketh it from Me, but Ilay it down of Myself. " His was, in the very highest and widest sense ofthe word, a voluntary offering, a voluntary humiliation, a voluntarydeath. Up to the very last, therefore, He could have stepped down from thecross, going no further toward the dark abyss. But the moment came whenthis would be no longer possible; when, even for Him, the sacrifice wouldbe irrevocable--when the possibility "to save Himself" was ended, and whenHe became for ever "the Lamb that was slain, " bearing the marks of Hiswounds in His eternal body. When that moment passed, He might well say, "It is finished. "

Is there not something that should answer to this in the lives of many ofHis disciples? Is there not a point for us, also, at which we may passover the line of uncertainty or reserve in our offering, saying for ever--it is finished? Is there not an appointed Calvary somewhere, at which wecan settle the questions that have been so long unsettled, and, in thestrength of God, at last declare that, as for controversy of any kind withHim, "it is finished"? Is there not at this very same cross of our dyingSaviour a place where doubt and shame may perish together--crucified withHim, and finished for ever?

This would be, indeed, a blessed conformity to His death. 

V. 

"_I thirst_. "

This is the first of the three words of Christ which relate specially toHis own inner experiences, and which I have placed together for thepurpose of this paper. 

"_I thirst_. " They gave Him vinegar to drink--or, probably, in amoment of pity the soldiers brought Him the sour wine which they hadprovided for themselves. He seems to have partaken of it, although He hadrefused the mixture that had been before offered Him merely to deaden Hispain. To bear that pain was the lofty duty set before Him, and so He wouldnot turn aside from it one hair's breadth. 

But He humbled Himself to receive what was necessary from the very handsthat had been crucifying Him. He, who could have so easily commanded awhole multitude of the heavenly host to appear for His succour, and towhose precious lips, parched in death, the princes of the eternal Kingdomwould have so gladly hastened with a draught from celestial springs, condescended to ask the help of those who mocked Him, and to take thesupport He so sadly needed from His triumphant persecutors. 

Oh, you who are proud by nature, who are reserved by nature, who aresensitive in spirit, who feel every wrong done to you like a knifeentering your breast, and who, when you forgive an injury, find itdifficult to forget, and harder still to humble yourselves in any way tothose who, you feel, have wronged you--here for you is a lesson, here foryou is an example, a precious example, of the condescension of Love. Yes. To love those who seem to be against you, to love those in whom therealways appears to you to be some difference of spirit or incompatibilityof temperament, will mean, if you are made conformable unto your Master'sdeath, that you will be able to receive at their hands services, kindnesses, pity, advice, which your own poor, fallen nature would, without divine grace, have scorned and spurned. 

VI. 

"_My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?_"

Here is a great mystery. No doubt, to the human nature of our Lord, it didappear as though the Father had forsaken Him, and that was the last bitterdrop in the cup of His humiliation and anguish. If men only knew it, therealisation that God has left them will be the greatest agony of thesinner's doom. And here upon the cross, our Lord, undergoing the penaltyof sins not His own has yet to experience fully the severance which sinmakes between God and the human soul. 

But, even to many of those who love and serve God fully, there does comeat times something which is very similar to this strange and darkexperience of our Lord's. Before the final struggle in many greatconflicts, those inward consolations on which so much seems to depend areoften mysteriously withdrawn. Why it should be so we do not know; it is amystery. Some loyal spirits have thought that God withdraws Hisconsolations and His peace, that the soul may be more truly filled withHis presence, thus substituting for divine consolation the "God ofconsolation, " and for divine peace the "God of peace. " In any case we havethis comfort: it was so with our Master. Do not let the servant expect tobe above his Lord. 

This terrible moment of seeming separation from the Father, and the darkcry which was wrung from our Saviour's broken heart, did not, however, make the final victory any the less. And, if you are one with Him, andhave really set your heart on glorifying Him, and if you can only_endure_, such moments will not take from your victory one shred ofits joy. Oh, then, _hold on to your cross_! hold on to your cross!even if it seems, as it sometimes may, that God Himself has forsaken you, and that you are left to suffer alone, without either the sympathy ofthose around you, or the conscious support of the indwelling God. _Holdon to your cross_. This is the way of Calvary--this is becomingconformable to the death of the Lord Jesus. 

VII. 

"_Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit_. "

Here our Lord enters upon the extremity of His humiliation. Death musthave been repulsive to Him. If the failure of heart and flesh, the coldsweat, the physical collapse, the last parting, the solitude andseparation of the grave are all repelling and painful to us, _how muchmore to Him_!

And, indeed, the picture which Christ presents to the outward eye in theselast moments is unquestionably one of deep humiliation. The disorderedgarments--stained with blood and dirt, the distended limbs, the bleedingwound in His side, the face smeared with bloody sweat and dust, the tornbrow and hair, and the swollen features, must have combined with all thehorrible surroundings to make one of the most gruesome sights that everman saw. And it was at this moment, _in His extremity_, that He says:"Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit. " "Father, I have done allthat I can do; now I leave Myself and the rest to Thee. "

Here is a beautiful message--the great message about Death. This is, infact, the one way to meet the shivering spectre with peace and joy. 

But the great lesson of this last word from the cross of Jesus is thelesson of Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob: _that faith in the Father isthe inner strength and secret of all true service_. It was, in a verywonderful and real sense, by _faith_ that He wrought His wonders, byfaith He suffered, by faith He prayed for His murderers, by faith He died, by faith He made His atonement for the sins of the world. The faith thatnot one iota of the Father's will could fail of its purpose. 

Oh, dear comrade and friend, here is the crowning lesson of His life anddeath alike--"_Have faith in God_. " Will you learn of Him? In_your_ extremity of grief or sorrow--if you are called to sorrow--will you not trust Him, and say, "Father, into Thy hands I commend mybereaved and bleeding heart"? In your extremity of poverty--if you arecalled to poverty--Oh, cry out to Him, "Father, into Thy hands I commendmy home, my dear ones. " In your extremity of shame and humiliation--arising, maybe, from the injustice or neglect of others--let your heartsay in humble faith, "Father, into Thy hands I commend my reputation, myhonour, my all. " In your extremity of weakness and pain--if you are calledto suffer weakness or pain--cry out in faith, "Father, into Thy hands Icommend this my poor worn and weary frame. " In your extremity ofloneliness and heart-separation from all you love for Christ's sake, ifthat be the path you tread, will you not say to your Lord, "Father, intoThy hands I commend my future, my life; lead Thou me on. "

Yes, depend upon it, _faith is the great lesson of the cross_. Byfaith the world was made; by faith the world was redeemed. If we are trulyconformed to His death, we also must go forward in faith with the greatwork of bringing that redemption home to the hearts of men; and all we aimat, all we do, all we suffer, must be sought for, done, and suffered inthat personal, simple faith in our Father and God which Jesus manifestedon His cross, in that hour when all human aid failed Him, and when Hecried in the language of a little child, "_Father, into Thy hands Icommend My spirit_. "

X. 

The Resurrection and Sin. 

 "_Concerning His Son Jesus Christ our Lord, which was . . . Declared to be the Son of God with power, according to the spirit of holiness, by the resurrection from the dead_. "--Romans i. 3, 4. 

Just as one of the great proofs, if not the great proof, of the truth ofChristianity is the vast fact of the world's need for it, so one grandproof of the Resurrection lies in the fact that no interpretation ofChrist's teaching or Christ's life would be worth a brass farthing--so faras the actual life of suffering man is concerned--without His Death andResurrection. That teaching might be illuminating--convincing--exalting;yes, even morally perfect; and yet, if He did not die, it would be littlemore than a superior book of proverbs or a collection of highly-polishedcopy-book maxims. That life--that wonderful life--might be the supremestexample of all that is or could be good and great and lovely in humanexperience; and yet, if He did not rise again from the tomb, it would, after all, be only a dead thing--like a splendid specimen of carved marblein some grand museum, exquisite to look upon, and of priceless value, butcold and cheerless, lifeless and dead. 

For it is a Living Person men need to be their Friend and Saviour andGuide. The splendid statue might possibly invite or challenge us toimitate it, but it could never call a human heart to love its stonyfeatures. Noble and pure as Jesus Christ's example undoubtedly was, itcould of itself never satisfy a human soul or inspire poor, broken, humanhearts with hope and love, or wash away from human consciousness thestains of sin. These things can only be done by a Living Person. So it isthat we are not told to believe on His teaching or on His Church, but on_Him_. He did not say "Follow My methods or My disciples, " but"_Follow_ ME. " If He be not risen from the dead, and alive forevermore; if, in short, it be a dead man we are to follow and on whom weare to believe--then we are, indeed, as Paul says, "of all men the mostmiserable. "

I. 

But it is the life of Jesus, and the evidence of that life, in us that arereally all-important. _No extent of worldly wisdom or historicaltestimony can finally establish for us the fact and power of Christ'sResurrection, unless we have proof in ourselves of His presence there as aLiving Spirit_. With St. Paul, we must "know Him, and the power of Hisresurrection. " That is the grand knowledge. That is the crown of allknowledge. That is the knowledge which places those who have received itbeyond the freaks and fancies of human wisdom or human folly. That is theknowledge which cleanses the heart, destroys the strength of evil, andbrings in that true righteousness which is the power to do right. That isthe greatest proof of the Resurrection. 

No books, not even the Bible itself; no testimony, not even the testimonyof those who were present on that first Easter Day, can be so good asthis, the experimental proof. It is the most fitting and grateful, andadapts itself to every type of human experience. _And it is beyondcontradiction_! What avail is it to contradict those who can answer, "Hereby we know that we dwell in Him, and He in us, because He hath givenus of His Spirit"? It is even beyond argument! For of what advantage canit be to argue with a man that he is still blind, when he tells you thathis eyes have been opened, and when he declares, "Whereas I _was_blind, NOW I SEE"?

To us Salvationists, the hope of the world, and the strength of our hardand long struggle for the souls of men, centre in this glorious truth. Heis risen, and is alive for evermore; and because He lives we live also'All around us are the valleys of death, filled with bones--very many andvery dry. Love lies there, dead. Hope is dead. Faith is dead. Honour isdead. Truth is dead. Purity is dead. Liberty is dead. Humility is dead. Fidelity is dead. Decency is dead. It is the blight of humanity. Death--moral and spiritual death in all her hideous and ghastly power--reignsaround us. Men are indeed dead--"dead in trespasses and sins. " What do weneed? What is the secret longing of our hearts? What is the crying agonyof our prayers? Is it for any human thing we seek? No. God knows--athousand times, no! We have but one hope or desire, and that is "life fromthe dead. " We want life, the risen life--life more abundant--life Divine, amid these deep, dark noisome valleys of the dead. 

Here, then, is our hope. He rose again, and ascended up on high, andreceived gifts for men. This is the hope which keeps us going on; this isthe invisible spring from which our weary spirits draw the elixir of aninvincible courage--Christ, the risen Christ, who has come to raise thedead! "You _hath_ He quickened who were dead in trespasses and sins. "Hallelujah!

"Dead in sins!" Jesus never made light of sin. He used no disguise when Hetalked of it, no equivocal terms, no softening words. There is no singlesuggestion in all His discourses or conversations that He thought itmerely a disease, or a derangement, or a misfortune, or anything of thatkind, or that He deemed it anything but a ruinous and deadly rebellionagainst God--the great disaster of the world, and the most awful, dangerous, and far-reaching precursor of suffering in the whole existenceof the universe. He said it was bad, bad all through--in form, inexpression, in purpose; above all, in spirit and desire. That there was noremedy for it but His remedy. No rains in all the heavens to wash it, nowaters in all the seas to cleanse it away, no fires in Hell itself topurge its defilement. The only hope was in the blood of His sacrifice. Andso He came to shed it, to save the people from their sins. 

That is our hope. We are of those who see something of the fruits of sin, and to whom it is no matter for the chastened lights of the literarydrawing-room. We know--some of us--how deep the roots of pollution canstrike into human character by our own scorched and blistered histories;and we know by our observation into what deeps of black defilement men canplunge. The charnel houses of iniquity must ever be the workshops of theSalvationist. There we see of the havoc, the cruelty, the debauchment, theparalysis, the leprosy, the infernal fascination of sin. And we know thereis only one hope--the Lamb that was slain, and rose again from the dead, and ever liveth for our salvation. 

II. 

The only really satisfactory test of any faith, or system of faiths, liesin its treatment of sin. Human consciousness in all ages, and in allconditions of development, bears witness to the fact of sin with universaland overwhelming conviction. Men cannot prevent the discomfort ofself-accusation which ever follows wrong-doing. They cannot escape from thebitter which always lies hidden in the sweet. They cannot forget thethings they wish to forget. Even when they are a law unto themselves, theyare compelled to judge themselves by that law. It is as though someunerring necessity is laid upon every individual of the race to sit injudgment upon his own conduct, and to pass sentence upon himself. He iscompelled to speak to his own soul of things about which he would ratherbe silent, and to listen to that which he does not wish to hear. 

The proof that this is so is open, manifest, and indisputable. Humanexperience in the simplest and widest sense of the word attests it. Itstands unquestioned amid floods of questions on every other conceivablesubject. No system of philosophy, no school of scientific thought, norevelation from the heavens above or the earth beneath can really weakenit. It is not found in books, or received by human contact, or influencedby human example. It is revealed in every man. It is felt by all men. Theydo not learn it, or deduce it, or believe it merely. They know it. All mendo. You do. I do. 

Many things contribute to this simple and yet supremely wonderful andawful fact of human experience. One of them is the faculty of thought. Manis made a thinking creature, and think he must; and if he thinks, he must, above all, think about himself, about his future, his present, his past. Agreat French writer--and not a Christian writer--says on this subject:"There is a spectacle grander than the ocean, and that is the conscience. After many conflicts, man yields to that mysterious power which says tohim, 'Think. ' One can no more prevent the mind from returning to an ideathan the sea from returning to a shore. With the sailor this is called'the tide. ' With the guilty it is called 'remorse. ' God, by a universallaw, upheaves the soul as well as the ocean. "

And side by side with this thinking faculty, there is the further fact, that God will not leave men alone. On those unerring and resistless tidesHe sends into the human soul His messages. He visits them. He arousesthem. He compels their attention. In His providence, by acts of mercy andof judgment--by sorrow and loss--by stricken days and bitter nights, Hemakes them remember their sin. All the weapons in His armoury, and all thewisdom of His nature are employed to bring men to a sense of guilt--toprick them to the heart--in order to lead them to recognise and to confessand to turn away from sin. If, therefore, man by any invention had foundout a way by which he could escape from the consciousness of evil withoutputting it away, God would not let him go. 

Clearly, then, the initial proof of success in religion must be thatreligion can deal satisfactorily with the conscious guilt of sin. To thishigh test, all theories, all pretences, all promises must come at last. What are they in their actual effect on the memories and consciences ofmen in relation to their sin? How do they treat with guilt? How do theymeet remorse? Can they silence the clamours of the night? Can they givepeace when it is too late to undo what sin has done? Do they suffice amidthe deepening shadows of the death chamber--the place where ever and anonthe forgotten past comes forth to demand the satisfaction so long delayed?

But these, after all, are only the fruits--some of the fruits of sin. Whatof the thing itself? That is the sternest test of all. The merecondemnation of sin, no matter how fully it harmonises with our sense ofwhat ought to be, does not satisfy man. The excusing of sin is no better;it leaves the sinner who loves his sin, a sinner who loves it still. Ifexcuses could silence conscience, or set free from the bondage of hate orpassion, how many of the slaves of both would soon be at liberty!

The re-naming of evil which has often been attempted during the last twoor three thousand years, and again in quite recent days, has little or noeffect either upon its nature or upon those who are under its mastery. Thenew label does not change the poison. Its victim is a victim still. Nordoes the punishment of sin entirely dispose of it, either in the sufferer, or in the consciousness of the onlooker. No doubt the discovery andpunishment of sin do give men a certain degree of satisfaction, but atbest it is only a _relief_, when what they need, and what they seetheir fellows need, is a _remedy_. Sending a fever patient tohospital is a poor expedient unless we cure the disease. Sending a thiefto prison is a poor affair if he remains a thief. It is not in reality avictory over thieving; it is, in fact, a defeat. 

Yes--it is a cure we need. And we know it. A cure which is not merely aremedy for the grosser forms which evil takes in men's lives, and theirterrible consequences, but a cure of the hidden and secret humours fromwhich they spring. The deceitfulness of the human heart. The thoughts andintents which colour all men do. The lusts and desires, the loves andhates from which conduct springs. The selfishness and rebellion whichdrive men on to the rocks. 

The real question for us then is, Can our religion--does our religion, when tried by the test of human experience--afford any remedy for these?Unless it does, man can no more be satisfied or be set free bycondemnations, or excusings, or re-christenings, or punishments of sin, than the slave can be contented with discussions about his owner'smistakes or emancipated by new contrivances for painting his chains!

III. 

But what is this sin, the consciousness of which is thus forced upon all--this determined, persistent, active evil? It is not the mere absenceof good-a negative gain--but it is the love of, and the actual strivingafter that which is flatly condemned by God, and is in open rebellionagainst Him. The centreing of the corrupt heart upon its own corruption. Opposition to the pure will of God. Pride, falseness, unscrupulousambition. Self-seeking, regardless of the means by which its object isobtained. Luxury, effeminacy, and sensuality. The lusts and fleshlypassions. Malice, cruelty, and envy. The greed of gain. The love andthraldom of the world. There it is--the running sore of a sufferingrace. The outflow of the carnal mind, which is not subject to the law ofGod, neither indeed can be. There is no getting away from it. "Againstthis immovable barrier--the existence of sin--the waves of philosophy havedashed themselves unceasingly since the birth of human thought, and haveretired broken and powerless, without displacing the minutest fragment ofthe stubborn rock, without softening one feature of its dark, ruggedsurface. "

And the worst of all is that sin is a wrong against God. _Man sins, ofcourse, against himself. _ That is written large on human affairs, sothat no fool, however great a fool, may miss it. Well may the prophet say, "O Israel, thou hast destroyed thyself!" Men mix the hemlock forthemselves! The sinner is a moral suicide!

_Man sins against his fellow. _ Nothing is more evident to us thanthat men tempt and corrupt one another. They hold one another back fromrighteousness. They break down virtue, and extinguish faith, and silenceconscience in their neighbours. They act as decoys and trappers for eachother's souls. They play the Devil's cat's-paws, and procure for him therum of their fellows, which could not be compassed without their aid. Inshort, the sinner is a moral murderer!

But, after all--and it is a hideous all--_the crowning wrong, and thecrowning misery, is that sin is sin against God_. 

Unless the Bible be a myth, and the prophets a disagreeable fraud, and thewhole lesson of Jesus Christ's life and death an illusion, God is deeplyconcerned with man. That concern extends to man's whole nature, his wholeexistence, his whole environment; and most of all it is manifest withregard to his sin. God puts Himself forward in the whole history of Hisdealings with men as an intimate, responsible, and observing Party in thepresence of wrong-doing. He watches. He sees. He knows. He will consider. He will remember or He will forget. He will in no wise acquit the guilty, or He will pardon. Justice and vengeance are His, and so is forgiveness. He will weigh in the balances. He will testify against the evil-doer, orHe will make an atonement for him. He will cut off and destroy, or He willhave mercy. He will repay, or He will blot out. 

From beginning to end of Revelation--and there is something in the humansoul which strangely responds to Revelation in this matter--we have asense, a spiritual instinct, of the truth which Job set forth, "_If Isin, then Thou markest me, and Thou will not acquit me from mineiniquity_, " which is confirmed by Jeremiah, "Though thou wash thee withnitre and take thee much soap, _yet thine iniquity is marked before Me, saith the Lord God_;" and which is insisted upon by the Apostle when hewrites, "We must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ; that everyone may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hathdone, whether it be good or bad. "

Yes, it is against the Lord God men have sinned, and to Him they areaccountable. And they know it. Here again is something which does not comeby observation or instruction, but by an inward sense which can neither bemistaken nor long denied. Sooner or later, men are compelled toacknowledge God, and to acknowledge that they have sinned against Him. Aswith David, when he cried out, "Against Thee, Thee only, have I sinned, and done this evil in Thy sight"--so to every man comes at last theawakening. We see, as David saw, that whomsoever else we have wronged, _God_ is most wronged; whomsoever else we may have injured, the greatevil is that we have broken _His_ law and violated _His_ will. 

In the light of that experience, sin becomes instantly a terrible andbitter thing. The fact that sinners can win the approval of men, thehonour of success; that they can hide iniquity; that they can for a timeescape from punishment, makes no difference when God appears upon thescene. Evil starts up for judgment. Memory marshals the ranks oftransgression. Retribution seems the only right thing to look for. Punishment appears to be so deserved that nothing else can be possible. Intheir own eyes they are guilty. Guilt is branded upon them. 

It is from this realisation of having offended God that there spring thedark forebodings of punishment. Men may dread it, and be willing to makesuperhuman sacrifices to escape it, but they expect it all the same. Thusin all ages men have cried out less for pardon and release from penaltythan for deliverance from the guilt and domination of evil. Their languageby a universal instinct has been like David's: "Have mercy upon me, O God, according to Thy loving kindness: according unto the multitude of Thytender mercies blot out my transgressions. Wash me throughly from mineiniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. For I acknowledge my transgressions:and my sin is ever before me. Against Thee, Thee only, have I sinned. "

XI. 

"Salvation Is of the Lord"

 "_Salvation is of the Lord_. "--Jonah ii. 9. 

 "_Work out your own salvation_. "--Phil. Ii. 12. 

Salvation is of the Lord, or not at all. It is a touch; a revelation; aninspiration; the life of God in the soul. It is not of man only, nor ofthat greatest of human forces--the will of man, but of God and the will ofGod. It is not mere will-work, a sort of "self-raising" power--it is aredemption brought home by a personal Redeemer; made visible, tangible, knowable to the soul redeemed in a definite transaction with the Lord. Itbrings forth its own fruits, carries with it the assurance of its ownaccomplishment, and is its own reward. It is impossible to declare toooften or too plainly that Salvation is of the Lord. 

I. 

And yet, around us on every side are those who are relying upon somethingshort of this new life. They have set up a sort of human virtue in theplace of the God-life. They are slowly mastering their disorderedpassions. The base instigations of their lower nature are being thwarted. Greedy appetites which reign in others are in them compelled to serve. Tendencies to cunning and falsehood, the fruits of which are only tooapparent in the world at large, they watch and harass and pinch. Animosities, and jealousies, and envies--those enemies of all kinds ofpeace--are repressed, if not controlled. 

And these followers of virtue go further than this. They aim at buildingup a character which can be called noble, or at least virtuous. And somesucceed--or appear to themselves to do so. They cultivate truth. Honestyis with them, whether as to their business or their social life, the bestpolicy. They are just. They are temperate. By nature and by training theyare kind and generous; so much so that it is as difficult to convict themof an unkindly act as it is easy to prove them more generous and liberalthan many of the professed followers of Jesus. Often they are charitable, giving of their substance to the poor; not hard to please, considerate oftheir inferiors, patient with one another; in a very high sense they havetrue charity. And after long periods of struggle, and lofty and faithfuleffort, they may be able to claim that they have developed a finecharacter; that by self-cultivation, and perhaps by a kind ofself-redemption, they have produced a very beautiful and desirable being!

I will not stay to inquire how far heart conceit and heart deceit mayaccount for much of this, or to suggest that a great contrast may existbetween the outer life and the unseen deeps within. I will admit for themoment that all is as stated, and even more. What, then? With much ofgrace and beauty, it may be; trained and tutored in the ways of humilityand virtue; able to live in the constant and kindly service of others, anddevoted to truth and duty--with all these excellencies they may yet bedead while they live. "That which is born of the flesh is flesh; and thatwhich is born of the Spirit is spirit. " Generous, lovable, dutiful, honourable flesh, but only flesh. A chaste, and, if you like to have itso, a useful life, but LIFELESS. A fine product of a lifetime of labour inthe culture of the physical, intellectual, and moral powers, but, afterall--DEAD. For "_He that believeth not on the Son of God hath notlife_. "

II. 

In this view the body, and in a larger degree the mind, becomes asepulchre for the soul. All the attention given to education, torefinement and culture, to the develop ment of gifts--for instance, suchas music or inventive science--to the practice of self-restraint and thepursuit of morality, is so much attention to the casket that will perish, to the neglect of the eternal jewel that is enclosed. It may be possibleto present a kindly, honest, law-abiding, agreeable life to ourneighbours; to go through business and family life without rindinganything of great moment with which to condemn ourselves; to be thought, even by those nearest to us, to be living up to a high standard ofmorality, and yet--for all this has to do with the casket only--to be deadall the while in trespasses and sins. 

The young man who should spend his fortune upon his tomb would be scarcelyso great a fool as he who spends his life on those things in himself whichare temporal, to the neglect of those which are eternal. Only think of theabsurdity of devoting the splendid energy of youth and manhood, the grandforce of will, the skill of genius, and the other gifts which commonly menapply to their own advancement and success, to the adornment, enriching, and extension of one's _grave_!

And yet this is very much the case of those of whom I am thinking. Alltheir advances, whether in moral attainment, in personal achievement, orin worldly advantage, are, at the best, but enlargements and adornments ofa tomb, and of a tomb destined itself to perish!

III. 

Do I, then, discourage good works? Has man no part to play in his owndeliverance? Is he, after all, only an animal--the mere creature ofcircumstance and natural law? Have I forgotten that "faith without worksis dead"? No, I think not. I have but remembered that _works withoutfaith are dead also_. The one extreme is as dangerous as the other. Thelegal, mechanical observance of the rules of a right life, apart from aliving faith in Christ, can no more renew the heart in holiness andrighteousness, than can a mere intellectual belief of certain facts aboutChrist, apart from working out His will, save the soul, or make it meetfor the inheritance of the saints. In both cases the verdict will be thesame. The faith in the one is "_dead_"; the works in the other arealso "_dead_. "

The fact is, Salvation is a two-fold work. It is of God--it is of man. DidGod not will man's Salvation he could not be saved. Unless man will hisown Salvation he cannot be saved. God is free. Man also is free. He mayset up a plan for saving himself; but, no matter how perfect, it will failunless it have God for its centre. And God, though He has devised the mostinfinitely complete and beautiful and costly scheme of redemption for man, will none the less fail unless the individual man wills to co-operate withHim. Man is not a piece of clay which God can fashion as He likes. He isnot even a harp out of which He can get what strains He will withoutregard to its strings. There is in man something--a force--an energy--which must act in union with God, and with which God must act in wonderfulpartnership, if His will is to be accomplished. 

IV. 

It is true, of course, that God does much for a man without his aid. I donot now refer to material blessings. He it is who gives us "life, andbreath, and all things"--and gives them largely without our effort. Buteven in man God does much without his help. He calls. He stirs upconscience. He gives flashes of light to the most darkened heart. Hesoftens by the hand of sorrow, and rebukes with the stripes of affliction. Memory, human affection, hope, ambition, are all made means by the HolyGhost to urge men to holiness. The ministry of goodness in others is sodirected as to point multitudes to the way of the Cross. But this will notprovide the one thing needful. Instruction, clear views of the truth, belief in the facts of God's love and grace, admiration of Salvation inother lives, even the desire to declare the Gospel, may all be present, and yet the soul be--DEAD--dead in trespasses and sins--cursed, bound, andcorrupted by dead works. Just as the noblest and highest efforts of mantowards his own Salvation, _without the co-operating, life-giving workof God_, can result only in confusion and death; so the most powerful, gracious, long-suffering and tender yearnings and work of God for man'sSalvation, _without the co-operating will of man_, can result only indistress, disappointment, and death. 

V. 

Are _you_ dead? Are _you_ in either of these classes? Are yourelying on God's mercy; waiting for some strange visitation from on high;depending with a faith which is merely of the mind upon some past work ofChrist; but without the vital power of His mighty life in you? Filled withdesires that are not realised; offering prayers that are not answered;striving at times to work out a law of goodness which you feel all thetime is an impossibility for you? Living, so to speak, out of yourelement--like a fish out of water? That is DEATH. 

Or are you, on the other hand, depending for Salvation on your own labourto build up a good character, and to live a decent, honourable, and honestlife? Conscious of advance, but not of victory? The servant of a highideal, but without _liberty_? The devotee of your own self? All thepowers and qualities of your nature growing towards maturity, _exceptthe powers of your soul_? The casket--as life goes on--growing more andmore adorned, while the eternal spirit, the priceless jewel made toreceive the likeness of God and enjoy Him for ever, seems ever of less andless worth to you? That also is DEATH. 

The man who is in either class is dead while he lives. He is a walkingmortuary. 

XII. 

Self-Denial. 

 "_If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me_. "--Matt. Xvi. 24. 

It is a striking thought that self-denial is, perhaps, the only servicethat a man can render to God without the aid or co-operation of somethingor some one outside himself. No matter what he does--unless it be to_pray_, which would hardly be included in the idea of _service_--he is more or less dependent upon either the assistance or presence ofothers. If, for example, he speaks or sings for God, whether in public orin private, he must have hearers; if he writes, it is that he may havereaders; if he teaches, he needs scholars; if he distributes gifts, theremust be receivers of his charity; if he leads souls to Christ, these soulsmust be willing to come; if he suffers persecution, there must bepersecutors; or if, like Stephen, he is called to die for his Lord, theremust be those who stone him, and others who stand by consenting to hisdeath. 

A few moments' consideration will, I think, also show, that even in thesphere of our personal spiritual experience, it is very much the same. Wecan, after all, do but little for ourselves. Salvation comes to menthrough human instrumentality, and seldom apart from it. We are, I know, saved by faith; but how shall we believe unless we hear? and how shall wehear without a preacher? That instruction on the things of God, which is anecessity for every true child of God, comes almost invariably by theagency or through the experiences of others. 

The joys and consolation of fellowship can only be the result of communionwith the saints. In spiritual things, as in ordinary affairs, it is thecountenance of his friend which quickens and brightens the tired toiler as"iron sharpeneth iron. " And though it is true that God can, and oftendoes, wonderfully teach and inspire His people without the direct aid ofany human agent, it is equally true that He generally does so by theemployment of His word, which He has revealed to men, or by the recallingof some message which has already been received into the mind and heart. 

Nor does this in the least detract from our absolute dependence upon Him. The man who crosses the Atlantic in a steamship is no less dependent onthe sea because he employs the vessel for his journey. We are no lessdependent upon the earth for our sustenance because we only partake of thewheat after it has been ground into flour and made into bread. And so, weare no less dependent upon God because He has been pleased to employvarious humble and simple instruments to save, and teach, and guide us. After full allowance has been made for the power and influence ofintervening agencies, it is in Him we really live, and move, and have ourbeing. 

But I return to my first word. There is one kind of service open to all, irrespective of circumstances and gifts, which can be rendered to Godwithout the intervention of anyone. And this we may truly callself-denial. Much that quite properly comes under that description neednever--probably will never--be known to anyone but God. It may be a holysacrament indeed, kept between the soul and its Lord alone. 

I. 

_There is the Denial of all that remains of Evil in us. _

How many sincere souls, when they look into their own hearts, find, totheir horror, evil in them where they least expected it; find them partstone, when they should be all flesh; find them bound to earth and thelove of earthly things, when they should be free from the world and thelove of the world; find them occupied, alas! so often with idols andheart-lusts, when God alone ought to rule and reign. Here is a sphere forself-denial. Here is a service to be rendered to God, which will be veryacceptable to Him, and which you alone can perform. 

And if you would thus deny yourself, then examine yourself. Study theevils of your own nature. Recognise sin. Call it by its right name whenyou speak of it in the solitude of your own heart. If there are theremains of the deadly poison in you, say so to God, and keep on saying sowith a holy importunity. "Confess your sins. " Attack them as the farmerattacks the poison-plant amongst his crops, or the worms and flies whichwill blight his harvest, and which, unless he can ruin them, he knows fullwell will ruin him. That is the "_perfect self-denial_"--to cut offthe right hand, and to pluck out and cast away what is dear as the righteye, if it offend against the law of purity and truth and love. 

_But you yourself are to do it_. Do not say you cannot, for you alonecan. If you would be His disciple--His holy, loving, pure, worthydisciple--you must deny _yourself_. Cry to Him for help as much asyou will--you cannot cry too often or too long--but you must do more thanthat: you must arise, and deny your own selfish nature; pinch, and harass, and refuse your own inward sins, and expose them to the light of God. Confess them without ceasing, mortify them without mercy, and slay them, and give no quarter. Say, and say in earnest:--

 Oh, how I hate these lusts of mine That crucified my God!-- These sins that pierced and nailed His flesh Fast to the fatal wood. 

 Yes, my Redeemer, they shall die-- My soul has so decreed; I will not longer spare the things That made my Saviour bleed. 

 Whilst with a melting, broken heart, My murdered Lord I view, I'll raise revenge against my sins, And slay the murderers too. 

II. 

_There are Denials of the Will_. 

Human nature is a collection of likes and dislikes. The great mass of menare governed by their preferences. What they like, they strive after; whatthey do not like, they neglect, or refuse, or resist. Many of thesepreferences, though not harmful in themselves, lead continually to thatsubjection of the will to self-interest, and help that self-satisfactionand self-love which are the deadly enemies of the soul. Now, trueself-denial is the denial, for Christ's sake and the sake of souls, ofthese preferences. To say to God: "I sacrifice my way for Thy way--my wishfor Thy wish--my will for Thy will--my plan for Thy plan--my life for Thylife"--this is self-denial. 

Nothing can be more acceptable to a good father's heart than the knowledgethat his son, living and labouring far away from him amid difficulties andopposition, is courageously sacrificing his own preferences, andfaithfully seeking to carry out his, the father's, will. In such a sonthat father sees a reproduction of all that is strongest and best in hisown nature. And so it is with the Heavenly Father. No greater joy can beHis than to see the resolute surrender of His children's own will to His, and the daily denial of their hopes and plans for themselves and theirs infavour of His plans. 

III. 

_There are Denials of the Affections_. 

 The precious things of earth-- The mother's tender care, The father's faith and prayer-- From Thee have birth. 

And, just because love is of such high origin, and is the greatest powerin human life, it is often captured and held by the Devil as his laststronghold against God. The heart is at once the strongest and the mostsensitive part of our nature; and it is here, therefore, that we oftenfind the most blessed and profitable opportunities for self-denial. 

That pleasant companionship, so grateful, so fruitful of joy, and yet solikely to tempt me from the path of faithful service, "Lord, I deny myselfof it. " That mastering affection for wife, or husband, or children--sobeautiful in its strength and simplicity, and yet so exacting in itsclaims--"Lord, I deny myself of the abandonment to which it invites me; Iput it in its proper place, second to Thee, and to the work Thou hastgiven me to do. " That love of home, and friends, and circle, which is sopowerful a factor in life, and enters so constantly into all thearrangements and details of our conduct, influencing so largely all realplans for doing God's work--"Lord, I will deny it, when it is in danger oflessening my labours for Thee and Thy Kingdom. " The pleasant hour, thequiet evening, the restful book, "I will lay them at Thy feet, for Thysake, when they hinder me doing Thy will. It is between me and Thee alone;it is the sacrifice of love. "

How precious it must be to God to see such self-denial! When the truelover sees the woman he has chosen leaving all for his sake, calmly layingdown the love of father and family, and even braving the rebuffs andunkindness of those from whom before she has known nothing but affection, in order that she may give him her whole heart and life, how strong becomethe cords which bind him to her! Every sacrifice she makes for his sakeforges another bond which will not easily be broken. And is the Lord aman, that He should be behind us in loving with an everlasting love thosewho thus give up and deny their own loves for Him? No! a thousand timesno! He will repay. Every self-denial is a seedling rich with future joys. For it is indeed true that "He that soweth to the Spirit, shall of theSpirit reap life everlasting. He that overcometh shall inherit all things, and I will give him the morning star. "

IV. 

_There are Denials with reference to our Gifts_. 

"Look not, " says the Apostle, "every man on his own things, but every manalso on the things of others. " That is, even in the exercise of hischoicest gifts and graces, let a man forget his own in his desire toemploy and bring forward the gifts of others. "Let nothing be done throughstrife or vainglory, but in lowliness of mind let each esteem other betterthan themselves. " That is, in your own mind take a humble view ofyourself, your own powers, and your own worthiness, and hold your comradesin higher esteem than you hold yourself, in honour preferring one anotherto yourself. _That would be a very real self-denial to some people!_

"Recompense to no man evil for evil, " though you know he well deserves it;"Avenge not yourselves. " "If thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink. " "Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with themthat weep. " That is, deny yourself of your own joys, that you may enterinto the sorrow of others; and lay aside your own sorrows and tears, andsilence your own breaking heart, when you can help others by entering withjoy into their joys. 

You will see, beloved, that all this is work which _no one can do foryou_, and that it is in a very true sense high service to God as wellas to man. 

How, then, is it with you?

Are you a self-denying disciple? If not, beware, lest it should shortlyappear that you are not a disciple at all. 

XIII. 

In Unexpected Places. 

 "_And . . . While they communed together and reasoned, Jesus Himself drew near, and went with them. But their eyes were holden that they should not know Him_. "--Luke xxiv. 15, 16. 

I. 

_The Knife-grinder_. 

The only person in the house, except the man and his wife, was a youngdomestic servant, a Soldier of The Salvation Army. Her employers weregenerally drinking when they were not asleep, and the drinking led to themost dreadful quarrelling. Disgusting orgies of one kind or another wereof almost daily occurrence, and such, visitors as came to the house onlyadded fuel to the fiery furnace of passion and frenzy through which thegirl was called to walk. 

Since that happy Sunday afternoon two years ago, when she gave herself toGod in the wholesome village from which she came, the meetings and theopportunity, given her by The Army, of doing some work for other souls hadbeen a bright light in her life. Little by little religion had come tohave for her something of the same meaning it had for St. Paul: though Ifear she knew very little of St. Paul, or of the great and wise things hewrote--domestic service is seldom favourable to the study of theScriptures. But the same spirit which led the great Apostle to confer notwith flesh and blood, and which took him into Arabia before he went toJerusalem, was leading this quiet, country maiden to see that to be afollower of Christ means something more than to win a fleeting happinessin this life and a kind of pension in the next. She was beginning tounderstand that to be really Christ's means also to be a Christ; that tobe His, one must seek for the lost sheep for whom He died. And so Rhoda--Icall her Rhoda, though that was not her name--when she found to what sortof people she had, in her ignorance of the great city, engaged herself, had set to work to seek their salvation. 

Many very good people would probably think that she would have been awiser girl to have gone elsewhere--that the risks of such a position werevery great, and so on. No doubt; but the light of a great truth was risingin Rhoda's heart and mind. She perceived in her very danger an opportunityto prove her love for her Saviour by risking something for the souls ofthose two besotted creatures, for whom she dared to think He really died. 

And so, day after day, she toiled for them: night after night she prayedfor them. And in her sober moments the wreck of a woman, her mistress, wept aloud in her slobbering way, and talked of the days long, long ago, when she, too, believed in the things that are good. 

The first flush of novelty in the sense of doing an unselfish thing forGod wore away, and presently Rhoda's real trial began. The drinking andfighting grew worse, and the difficulty of getting out to a meeting grewgreater. Gradually the weary body robbed the struggling soul of its timeto pray; and, worst of all, by slow degrees Rhoda's faith was shaken, forher prayers, her agonising prayers, on behalf of those dark souls wereonly too manifestly not answered. Was it worth while, after all, troublingabout sinners? Was it her affair? Why should she care? Of what use couldit be to become an Officer, in order to seek the many, if God did nothearken to her cry for the few?

One day the Captain of the Corps to which Rhoda belonged called, andseemed grieved with her for neglecting the meetings. This was a heavyblow. She could not or would not explain, and when that night, in themidst of a drunken brawl, her master struck her in the face, heart andflesh both failed, and she determined to say no more about salvation, andto abandon all profession of religion. 

That night seemed long and dark, and when at last sleep came, the pillowwas wet with tears of anguish, of anger, and of pride. 

"Scissors to mend! to mend! to mend!" The monotonous calls of Londonhawkers are a strange mixture of sounds--at one moment attractive, atanother repelling; they are, perhaps, more like the cry of a bird indistress than anything else. 

Rhoda looked at her wood-chopper as the knife-grinder came nearer to thehouse, and as he passed beckoned him, and gave it to him. She made noremark. He was rough and grimy, and his torn coat gave him an appearanceof misery, which his face rather belied. She was miserable enough, andmade no reply to his cheery "Good morning!"

Presently the axe was sharpened, and the man brought it to the door. Shepaid him. 

"Thank you, " he said. And then, with kindly abruptness--"Excuse me, but Isee you have been crying. Do you ever pray?" And, after a silence, "Godanswers prayer, though He may not do it our way. _He did it for me. _I was a drunkard, but my mother's prayers are answered now, and I belongto The Salvation Army. Do you know any of them? Oh, they just live byprayer!"

Rhoda stood in silence listening to the strange man till she ceased tohear him, and looking at him till she ceased to see him! Another Presenceand another Voice was there. 

_It was the Christ_. 

Rhoda was delivered. She is still fighting for souls, and loves most to doit where Satan's seat is. But the knife-grinder never knew. 

II. 

_A Kiss_. 

The heat and smell in the narrow slum were worse than usual. A hotSaturday night in midsummer is a bad time in the slums, and worse in theslum public-houses. It was so on the night I speak of. In and out of thesuffocating bar the dirty stream of humanity came and went. Men who hadceased long ago to be anything but beasts; women with tiny, white childrenin their bony arms; boys and girls sipping the naphtha of perdition, andtalking the talk of fools; lewd and foul-mouthed women of the streets, allhustled and jostled one another, and sang, and swore, and bandied horridwords with the barmen--and, all the while, they drank, and drank, anddrank! The atmosphere grew thicker and thicker with the dust andtobacco-smoke, and little by little the flaming gas-jets burnt up theoxygen, till by midnight the place was all but unendurable. 

Among the last to go was a woman of the town, who betook herself, with abottle of whisky, to a low lodging-house hard by. There she drank andquarrelled with such vehemence that in the early hours of the morning the"Deputy"--as the guardian of order is called in these houses--picked herup and threw her into the gutter outside. There, amid the garbage from thecoster-mongers' barrows and the refuse of the town, this remnant of aruined woman lay in a half-drunken doze, until the golden sunlight mountedover the city houses and pierced the sultry gloom on the Sabbath morning. 

Another woman chanced that way. Young, beautiful alike in form and spirit, and touched with the far-offness of many who walk with Christ, shehastened to the early Sunday morning service, there to join her prayerswith others seeking strength to win the souls of men. 

"What is that?" she asked her friend as they passed. 

"That, " replied the other, "is a drunken woman, unclean and outcast. "

In a moment the Salvationist knelt upon the stones, and kissed thebattered face of the poor wanderer. 

"Who is that--what did you do?" said the Magdalene. "Why did you kiss me?_Nobody ever kissed me since my mother died_. "

_It was the Christ_. 

That kiss won a heart to Him. 

III. 

_A Promotion_. 

Henry James was coming rapidly into his employer's favour. Thoughtful, obliging, attentive to details, anxious to please, and, above all, thoroughly reliable in word and deed, he was a first-class servant and anexemplary Salvationist. In the Corps to which he belonged he stood high inthe esteem both of the Local Officers and the Soldiers, and there was nomore welcome speaker in the Open-air or more successful "fisher" in thesinners' meetings than "Young James. "

The question of his own future was beginning to occupy a good deal ofattention. Ought he to offer himself for Officership in The Army? He wasvery far from decided either one way or the other, when one evening at theclose of business his master sent for him. He expressed his pleasure atthe progress James was making, and offered him a greatly improvedposition--the managership of a branch establishment, with certainprivileges as to hours, an immediate and considerable advance in salary, and the prospect of a still more profitable position in the future. Therewas really only one condition required of him--he must live in premisesadjoining the new venture, and he must not come to and fro in the uniformof The Army. His employers had a high esteem for The Salvation Army. Itwas a noble work, and their opinion of it had risen since they hademployed one or two of its Soldiers. But business was business, and theuniform going in and out would not help business, and so forbh. 

The young man hesitated, and, to the senior partner's surprise, asked fora week to consider. 

During the week there were consultations with almost every one he knew. The majority of his own friends said decidedly "Accept. " A fewSalvationists of the weaker sort said, "Yes, take it; you will, in theend, be able to do more for God, and give The Army more time, more money, more influence. " On the other hand, the Captain and the older LocalOfficers answered, "No; it is a compromise of principle; the uniform isonly the symbol of out-and-out testimony for Christ; you put it on in holycovenant with Him; you cannot take it off, especially for your ownadvantage, without breaking that covenant. Don't!"

James promised himself--quite sincerely, no doubt--that it should not beso with him. And on the appointed day informed the firm that he acceptedtheir proposal. 

The new enterprise was a success. Everything turned out better than wasexpected. At the end of six months the new manager received a cordialletter of thanks from the firm, and a hint of further developments. 

But Henry James was an unhappy man. He had gained so much that he wasalways asking himself how it came about that he seemed to have lost somuch more! Position, prospects, opportunity, money--these were allenhanced. And yet he went everywhere with a sense of loss, burdened with aconsciousness of having parted with more than he had received in return. As a man of business, the impression at last took the form of a businessestimate in his mind. Yes, that was it; he had secured a high--a veryhigh--price that evening in the counting-house, when the partners waitedfor his answer; he had parted with something; he had, in fact, soldsomething. 

_It was the Christ_. 

It proved a ruinous transaction. 

XIV. 

Ever the Same. 

A New Year's Greeting. 

 _"Blessed be the name of God for ever and ever: for wisdom and might are His: and He changeth the times and the seasons. "_--Daniel ii. 20, 21. 

 _"I am the Lord, I change not. "_--Malachi iii. 6. 

"He changeth the times and the seasons. " What a beautiful thought it is!Instead of the hard compulsion of some inexorable and unchanging lawfixing summer where it must, and planting winter in our midst whether itbe well or ill, here is the sweet assurance that the seasons change at Hiscommand; and that the winds and the waves obey Him. It is not someabstract and unknowable force, taking no account of us and ours, with whomwe have to do, but a living and ruling Father: He who maketh small thedrops of water that pour down rain; He who shuts up the sea with doors, and says: "Here shall thy proud waves be stayed"; He who maketh the southwinds to blow, and by whose breath the frost is given; He who teaches theswallow to know the time of her coming, and has made both summer andwinter, and the day and the night His servants--He is our Father. Howprecious it is to feel that our times are in His hands; and to know that, whether the year be young or old, He will fill it with mercy and crown itwith loving-kindness!

Do not be deceived by the modern talk about the laws of Nature intoforgetting that they are the laws ordained by your Father for thefulfilment of His will. Every day that dawns is as truly God's day as wasthe first one. Every night that draws its sable mantle over a silent worldsets a seal to the knowledge of God who maketh the darkness. Behind themighty forces and the ceaseless activities around us stands the Sovereignof them all. The hand of Him who never slumbers is on the levers. Theearth is the Lord's, and His chosen portion is His people; and when "Hechanges the times and the seasons, " He fits the one to the other. 

It is with some such thoughts as these that I send out a brief New Year'sGreeting to my friends. I wish them a Happy New Year, because I feel thatGod has sent it, that He wills it to be a happy year--a good year: that inall the changes it may bring, He will be planning with highest benevolencefor their truest welfare. Whether, therefore, it holds for them sorrow orjoy, it will be a year of mercy, a year of grace, a year of love. "Blessedbe God for ever and ever, for wisdom and might are His. He revealeth thedeep and secret things. He knoweth what is in the darkness, and the lightdwelleth with Him. "

Let us, then, go forward, and fear not. 

I. 

_Material Changes. _

All things that touch the life of man are marked for change. As knowledgeadvances, and men come nearer to the secrets of the world in which theylive, they find how true indeed it is, that man is but "a shadow dwellingin a world of shadows. " Everything is changing--everything but God. Thesun, the astronomers tell us, is burning itself away. "The mountains, " saythe geologists, "are not so high as they once were; their lofty summitsare sliding down their sides year by year. The everlasting hills are onlyeverlasting in a figure; for they, too, are crumbling day by day. Thehardest rocks are softening into soil every season, and we are actuallyeating them up in our daily bread. "

 The hills are shadows, and they flow From form to form, and nothing stands; They melt like mists, the solid lands, Like clouds they shape themselves and go. 

The great ocean-currents are changing, and vast regions of the earth'ssurface are being changed with them, and Time is writing wrinkles on thewhole world and all that is therein. 

But, above it all, I see One standing--my Unchanging God. "Thou, Lord, inthe beginning hast laid the foundations of the earth, and the heavens arethe works of Thine hands; they shall perish, but Thou remainest; and theyall shall wax old as doth a garment, and as a vesture shalt Thou fold themup, and they shall be changed; but Thou art the same, and Thy years shallnot fail. "

What a contrast there is between the Worker and His work, between theCreator and the creature! We see it in a thousand things; but in none isit so manifest for the wayfaring man, or written so large upon the fadingdraperies of time, as in this: "_They shall perish, but Thouremainest_. "

And greater changes yet seem to lie ahead. A universal instinct points tothe time of the restitution of all things. "The whole creation groanethand travaileth in pain together, waiting"--and it has been a long, wearywaiting--"for deliverance. " But the day of the Lord will come. "As thelightning cometh out of the east, and shineth even unto the west, so shallthe coming of the Son of Man be. " In his vision John saw, as it were, apicture of that final change. "Lo, " he says, "there was a greatearthquake, and the sun became black as sack-cloth of hair"--it looks asthough the wise men who say it will burn itself out are right!--"and themoon became as blood; and the stars of heaven fell unto the earth, even asa fig tree casteth her untimely figs, when she is shaken of a mighty wind. And the heaven departed as a scroll when it is rolled together; and everymountain and island were moved out of their places. " What a combination ofastounding catastrophes is here! Earth and stars are to meet in awfulshock! Sun and moon to fail! Cloud and sky to disappear; the elements tomelt with fervent heat--a world on fire!

But, above it all, the Lamb that was slain will take His place upon theThrone--unmoved, unchanged, amidst the tumult of dissolving worlds. MyGod, my Saviour, in Thy unchanging love I put my trust:--

 Jesus, Thy blood and righteousness My beauty are, my glorious dress; 'Midst flaming worlds, in these arrayed, With joy shall I lift up my head. 

II. 

_Changes of Association_. 

But far-reaching as are the changes in our material surroundings, thosewith which we have to battle in our personal associations are often asgreat, and are often much more painful. Indeed, man himself is the mostchangeable thing in all man's world. 

It is not merely that our companions and friends and loved ones die--thewind passeth over them, and they are gone, and the dear places that knewthem know them no more--it is not merely this; nor is it that theircircumstances change, that wealth becomes penury, that health is changedto weakness and suffering, and youth to age and decay--it is not merelythis, but it is that _they_ change. The ardour of near friendshipgrows cold and fades away; the trust which once knew no limitations isnarrowed down, and, by and by, walled in with doubts and fears; thecomradeship which was so sweet and strong, and quickened us to greatdeeds, as "iron sharpeneth iron, " is changed for other companionships; thelove which seemed so deep and true, and was ready "to look on tempests" forus, becomes but a name and a memory, even if it does not change into awell of bitter waters in our lives. 

This fact of human mutability, this inherent changeableness in man, is thekey to many of the darkest chapters of the world's history. The prodigal, the traitor, the vow-breaker, these have ever been far more fruitfulsources of anguish and misery than the life-long rebel and law-breaker. 

The Psalmist touches the inner springs of sorrow when he says, "All thathate Me whisper together against Me; yea, Mine own familiar friend, inwhom I trusted, which did eat of My bread, hath lifted up his heel againstMe. "

No one who has once read it can forget that revelation of the pent-upshame and agony in David's heart, which was voiced in his cry, "O my sonAbsalom, my son, my son Absalom! would God I had died for thee, O Absalom, my son, my son!"

The human heart probably fell to its lowest depth of ingratitude and sinwhen poor Judas changed sides and sold his Lord. What a change it was!Alas, alas, what a quagmire of uncertainties and shifting sandunsanctified human nature must be! Nay, _is_. 

I suppose that few of us have escaped some sorrowful experiences of thiskind. Even to those who have not tasted the fruits of human fickleness inthe great affairs of Christ's Kingdom, there has generally come some shareof it into the more private relationships of life. In the home, in thefamily, or in the circle of friendship or comradeship, we have had tolament the failure of many tender hopes. But, blessed be the name of ourGod, who knoweth what is in the darkness, amidst the changing scenes wehave found one Comfort. Above the strife of tongues, and over the stormyseas of sorrow, when, as Job said, even our kinsfolk have failed, and ourfamiliar friends have forgotten us, there is borne to us the voice of Onewho sticketh closer than a brother, saying, "I am the Lord; I change not. With Me there is no variableness, neither the shadow of turning. I willnever leave thee nor forsake thee. " The more men change, the surer Godwill be; the more they forget, the more He will remember; the further theywithdraw, the nearer He will come. 

III. 

_Personal Changes_. 

And we, ourselves, change also. As the years fly past, the most notablefact about us, perhaps, is the changes that are going on in our ownexperiences, our habits, our thoughts, our hopes, our conduct, ourcharacter. How much there was about us, only a few years ago, which haschanged in the interval--nay, how much has grown different even since lastNew Year's Day! Indeed, might we not say of a great deal in us, whichto-day is, that to-morrow it will be cast away for ever?

Have you, my friend, not had to mourn over some strange changes?

Has not your joy been often so quickly turned to sorrow that you havewondered how you yourself could be the same person? Has not some triflingcircumstance often seemed to cloud your sky for days, darkening all thegreat lights in your heaven, so that your whole past, and present, andfuture have seemed different to you, and you stood in the stupor ofastonishment at the gloomy change? Has not your zeal for souls beensubject to like strange and unaccountable changes, so that the work youonce thought impossible you have found easy; or the work you oncedelighted in, you now find hard, difficult, and barren? Has not yourfreedom in prayer, and your desire for it, wavered between this and thatuntil you have not known what to think of yourself?

Has not your perception of duty, and your devotion to it, at one timeclear and strong, become at another so dim and feeble, that you have beenutterly ashamed of your wobbling and cowardice, and amazed at yourfailure? And, most sorrowful of all, has not your love for your God andSaviour been up and down--shamefully down--so that when you haveafterwards reflected on your coldness towards Him and His cause, you havebeen covered with confusion and astonishment at the fickleness of your ownheart?

And more than this. How great are the changes wrought in us by the curbinginfluence of time! How much that in youth and early manhood we meant todo, and could do, and did do, has to be laid down, or left to others, asour years approach the limits of their pilgrimage! I have known some menwho, for this reason alone, did not desire to live beyond the years ofstrength and vigour--they preferred "to cease at once to work and live. "

The loss by death, or disappointments worse than death, of our friends anddear ones--what changes this also works! Unconsciously men narrow thesphere of their sympathies. The mainspring of life--love--grows slowlyrusty for want of use, and from some hearts that were once true fountainsof joy to those around them, the living water almost ceases to flow. Criticism, and fault-finding, and censoriousness too often take the placeof generous labour for the welfare of the world. This may, no doubt, arisein part from the natural desire that others should profit by our pastexperiences, which renders us the more observant of their conduct the morewe love. But, no matter what the cause, certain it is that within andwithout all seems to change. 

Is it not, then, a joy unspeakable that, amidst all this, whether we areor are not fully alive to the weakness, and variableness, anddeceitfulness of our own hearts, we can look up to the ROCK that changethNOT? In the darkest hour of disappointment with ourselves; in the depthsof that miserable aftermath of sorrow and failure which follows all prideand foolish self-assertion; in the miry pit of condemnation and guilt inwhich sin always leaves the sinner, we can look up to Him whose power, whose grace, whose love is ever the same. 

Do you really believe it? There is a great hope in it for you if you do. High above all your changes, high above all the storms and disappointmentsthat belong to them; high above all the wretched failure and doubting ofthe "do-the-best-I-can" life you are living, He lives to bless, to save, to uplift, to keep. Unnumbered multitudes, fighting their way to Him inspite of the timidities and wobblings, the "couldn'ts" and "wouldn'ts" oftheir own nature, have proved Him the Faithful and Unchanging God. Willnot you?