The apostle had been putting forth all his strength to prove the doctrine of the resurrection, yet he was not diverted from his habitual custom of making practical use of the doctrine which he established. He proves his point, and then he goes on to his “therefore,” which is always an inference of godliness. He is the great master of doctrine: if you want the Christian creed elaborated, and its details laid out in order, you must turn to the epistles of Paul; but at the same time he is always a practical teacher. Paul was not like those who hew down trees and square them by rule and system, but forget to build the house therewith. True, he lifteth up a goodly axe upon the thick trees, but he always makes use of that which he hews down, he lays the beams of his chambers, and forgets not the carved work thereof. He brings to light the great stones of truth, and cuts them out of the live rock of mystery; but he is not content with being a mere quarryman, he labours to be a wise master builder, and with the stones of truth to erect the temple of Christian holiness. If I shift the figure I may say that our apostle does not grope among the lower strata of truth, hunting out the deep things and spending all his force upon them, but he ploughs the rich upper soil, he sows, he reaps, he gathers in a harvest, and feeds many. Thus should the practical ever flow from the doctrinal like wine from the clusters of the grape. The Puritans were wont to call the end of the sermon, in which they enforced the practical lessons, the “improvement” of the subject; and, truly, the apostle Paul was a master in the way of “improvement.” Hence in this present chapter, though he has been dealing with the fact of resurrection, and arguing with all his might in defence of it, he cannot close till he has said, “Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye stedfast, unmoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord.”

My brethren, this is a lesson for us; let us never reckon that we have learned a doctrine till we have seen its bearing upon our lives. Whatever we discover in God’s word, let us pray the Holy Spirit to make us feel the sanctifying influence of it. You know not a man because you recognise his features, you must also know his spirit; and so the mere acquaintance with the letter of truth is of small account-you must feel its influence and know its tendency. There are some brethren who are so enamoured of doctrine that no preacher will content them unless he gives them over and over again clear statements of certain favourite truths: but the moment you come to speak of practice they fight shy of it at once, and either denounce the preacher as being legal, or they grow weary of that which they dare not contradict. Let it never be so with us. Let us follow up truth to its practical “therefore.” Let us love the practice of holiness as much as the belief of the truth; and, though we desire to know, let us take care when we know that we act according to the knowledge, for if we do not our knowledge itself will become mischievous to us, will involve us in responsibilities, but will bring to us no effectual blessing. Let everyone here who knoweth aught, now pray God to teach him what he would have him to do, as the consequence of that knowledge.

This morning our subject will be the practical outflow of the resurrection, the great inference which should be drawn from the fact that death is swallowed up in victory. There should be fine flour from the grinding of such choice wheat.

The text has in it two things: first, it mentions two great points of Christian character-“stedfast, unmoveable,” and “always abounding in the work of the Lord;” and, secondly, it gives us a grand motive for the cultivation of these two characteristics-inasmuch as the doctrine of the resurrection being true, “ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord.”

First, then, let us consider the two great points of Christian character here set before us.

1. The first one is “be ye stedfast, unmoveable.” Two things are wanted in a good soldier, steadiness under fire, and enthusiasm during a charge. The first is the more essential in most battles, for victory often depends upon the power of endurance which makes a battalion of men into a wall of brass. We want the dashing courage which can carry a position by storm-that will be used up in the second characteristic-“always abounding in the work of the Lord;” but in the commencement of the attack, and at critical points all through the campaign, the most essential virtue for victory is for a soldier to know how to keep his place, and “having done all to stand.”

The apostle has given us two words descriptive of godly firmness, and we may be sure that as Holy Scripture never uses a superfluity of words, each word has a distinet meaning. “Stedfast” alone would not have sufficed, but “unmoveable” must be added. Let us look at the word “stedfast” first. Beloved, be ye stedfast. By this the apostle means, first, be ye stedfast in the doctrines of the gospel. Know what you know, and, knowing it cling to it. Hold fast the form of sound words. Do not be as some are, of doubtful mind, who know nothing, and even dare to say that nothing can be known. To such the highest wisdom is to suspect the truth of everything they once knew, and to hang in doubt as to whether there are any fundamentals at all. I should like an answer from the Broad Church divines to one short and plain question. What truth is so certain and important as to justify a man in sacrificing his life to maintain it? Is there any doctrine for which a wise man should yield his body to be burned? According to all that I can understand of modern liberalism, religion is a mere matter of opinion, and no opinion is of sufficient importance to be worth contending for. The martyrs might have saved themselves a world of loss and pain if they had been of this school, and the Reformers might have spared the world all this din about Popery and Protestantism. I deplore the spread of this infidel spirit, it will eat as doth a canker. Where is the strength of a church when its faith is held in such low esteem? Where is conscience? Where is love of truth? Where soon will be common honesty? In these days with some men, in religious matters, black is white, and all things are whichever colour may happen to be in your own eye, the colour being nowhere but in your eye, theology being only a set of opinions, a bundle of views and persuasions. The Bible to these gentry is a nose of wax which everybody may shape just as he pleases. Beloved, beware of falling into this state of mind; for if you do so I boldly assert that you are not Christian at all, for the Spirit which dwells in believers hates falsehood, and clings firmly to the truth. Our great Lord and Master taught mankind certain great truths plainly and definitely, stamping them with his “Verily, verily;” and as to the marrow of them he did not hesitate to say, “He that believeth shall be saved, but he that believeth not shall be damned;” a sentence very abhorrent to modern charity, but infallible nevertheless. Jesus never gave countenance to the baseborn charity which teaches that it is no injury to a man’s nature to believe a lie. Beloved, be firm, be stedfast, be positive. There are certain things which are true; find them out, grapple them to you as with hooks of steel. Buy the truth at any price and sell it at no price.

Be ye stedfast also in the sense of not being changeable. Some have one creed to-day and another creed to-morrow, variable as a lady’s fashions. Indeed, we once heard a notable divine assert that he had to alter his creed every week; he was unable to tell on Monday what he would believe on Wednesday, for so much fresh light broke in upon his receptive intellect. There are crowds of persons nowadays of that kind described by Mr. Whitfield when he said you might as well try to measure the moon for a suit of clothes as to tell what they believed. Ever learning but never coming to a knowledge of the truth. Shifting as sandbanks are their teachings and as full of danger. The apostle says to us, “Be ye stedfast.” Having learned the truth hold it, grow into it, let the roots of your soul penetrate into its centre and drink up the nourishment which lies therein, but do not be for ever transplanting yourselves from soil to soil. How can a tree grow when perpetually shifted? How can a soul make progress if it is evermore changing its course? Do not sow in Beersheba and then rush off to reap in Dan. Jesus Christ is not yea and nay; he is not to-day one thing and tomorrow another, but the “same to-day, yesterday, and for ever.” True religion is not a series of guesses at truth, but “we speak what we do know, and testify what we have seen.” That which your experience has proved to you, that which you have clearly seen to be the word of God, that which the Spirit beareth witness to in your consciousness, that hold you with iron grasp. Skin for skin, yea, all that a man hath, will he give for his life, and to us the holding of the truth is essential to our life. The Holy Ghost has given his unction unto the people of God, and they know the truth, and moreover they know that no lie is of the truth. Were it not for this anointing the very elect would have been deceived in this age of falsehood. Brethren, be ye stedfast.

But the apostle meant much more, he intended to urge us to be stedfast in character. Right in the middle of the chapter upon the resurrection he speaks about character. He shows that a change of view upon the doctrine of the resurrection would legitimately lead to a change of action; for if the dead rise not, then it is clearly wisdom to say, “Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die:” but inasmuch as the resurrection doctrine is true, he urges us to keep to that holy living which is the natural inference from belief in eternal life and the judgment to come. As ye have looked to the recompense of the reward hereafter, and have sought to order your conversation by a sense of the coming judgment, so do ye still, and be ye stedfast. Alas, we might preach tearful discourses to many Christians upon stedfastness of behaviour, for they have started aside as a deceitful bow. There was a time when their integrity was unquestioned, but now they have learned the ways of a faithless world; truth was on their lip, but now they have learned to flatter. They have lost the pure speech of the New Jerusalem, and speak in the Babylonian tongue. How many professors were once exceeding zealous, but are now careless! the fire of their love burns dimly, its coal is all but quenched. Prayer was their delight, but now it wearies them. The praises of God were perpetually in their mouth, but now they forget their Benefactor. They laboured abundantly in the Redeemer’s service, but now they can scarce be stirred out of their luxurious indolence. Beloved, if God has sanctified you by his Spirit, be ye stedfast in character. Suffer not your divinely-wrought sanctity to be stained. Be ye not sometimes watchful, but be ye always so, by the help of the good Spirit. Whereunto ye have attained in the things of God, walk by that rule still. Be ye not corrupted by evil communications. Make your private and public life of a piece. Let not the worldling peep into your house and discover that your godliness is an article intended for foreign consumption only. Be ye such that if ye be watched anywhere, and at any time, your sincerity will be manifested. O for consistency among professors! Its absence is the weakness of the church, and its restoration will bring to us unnumbered blessings.

In addition to being stedfast in doctrine and character, we need to be exhorted to stedfastness in attainments. O brethren, if we were now what we sometimes have been, how ripe for glory should we be! If we could but keep the ground which we conquer, how soon would all Canaan be ours! But is not Christian life with a great many very like the condition of the sea? The sea advances, it gains gradually upon the beach-you would think it was about to inundate the land; but after it has reached its highest point it retires, and so it spends its force in perpetual ebb and flow. Are not ebb-and-flow Christians as common as sea-shells? Life to them is the unprogressive change of advance and recede: to-day all earnest, to-morrow all indifferent; to-day generous, to-morrow mean; to-day filled with the fulness of God, to-morrow naked, and poor, and miserable. What they build with one hand they pull down with the other, Sad that it should be so. I must confess I find it far easier to climb the greatest heights of grace, and especially of communion, than to maintain the elevation. For a flight now and then our wings are sufficient; we mount, we soar, we rise into the spiritual regions, and we exult as we rise; but our pinion droops, we grow weary of the heights, and we descend to earth like stones which have been thrown into the air. Alas! that it should be so. Be ye stedfast. When ye climb ask for grace to keep there; when your wing has borne you up ask that there you may be poised till the Lord shall call you to your nest in heaven. Is your faith strong? Why should it decline again? Is your hope vivid? Why should that bright eye of yours grow dim, and look no more within the golden gates? Is your love fervent? Why should it be chilled? Cannot the breath of the Eternal Spirit keep the fire at full blaze? Wherefore is it that we do run well and then are hindered? We are short-winded, we cannot watch with our Lord one hour, we grow weary and faint in our minds. Alexander could not thus have won a world if after fighting the battle of Issus he had stopped short of the Granicus: if the Macedonian hero had said, “I have done enough, I will go back to Greece and enjoy my victories,” his empire had never become universal. Nor would Columbus have discovered a new world if he had sailed a little way into the unknown ocean and then had turned his timid prow towards port. “Onward!” is the motto of the earnest, all the world over, and should it not be the watchword of the Christian? Shall we be content with a wretched poverty of grace? Shall we be satisfied to wear the rags of inconsistency? God forbid. Let us bestir ourselves, and when we make headway along the river of life, may God grant us grace to cast anchor and hold our place, lest we drift back with the next tide, or be blown back by the next change of wind. “Be ye stedfast.”

We shall not have brought out the full force of the text unless we say that the apostle evidently refers to Christian work for he says, “be ye stedfast, unmoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord.” So that he means be stedfast in your work which the Lord has laid upon you to do. Perseverance is at once the crown and the cross of service. It is very easy to preach for a little while, but I can assure you that preaching to a congregation year after year involves no little toil; yet are we bound to be stedfast in this ministry. A spurt, a leap, a bound-these are easy, but to press on continually is the difficulty. Have you taken a class in the Sabbath-school? The novelty of it may carry you through a month or two, but, dear friend, be stedfast and hold on year after year, for therein will lie your honour and success. If you should be discouraged, because you meet with no present success, yet persevere, yea, endure to the end. If God has given you any work to do, it is yours to press forward in it, whether you prosper in it or not. The negro said, you remember, that if God bade him jump through a wall, whether he could go through it or not was no business of his. “Here I go,” says he, “right at it.” We may rest assured that the Lord never did command us to leap through a wall without causing it to give way when our faith brought us to the test. We have to obey the precept, and leave the consequences. If God says, “Do it,” the command is both the warrant for our act and the security for our being aided with all necessary help. Noah preached for one hundred and twenty years, and when his term of warning ministry was over, where were his converts? He may have had a great many, but they were all dead and buried; and with the exception of himself and family, after one hundred and twenty years’ ministry, there remained not one that God would preserve alive; and into the ark he went, the grandest unsuccessful preacher that ever lived, faithful unto death, to be rewarded of his God as much as if he had induced half the world to flee from the wrath to come. Let us, therefore, remain stedfast in doctrine, in character, in attainment and in labour. To this end help us, O Holy Ghost.

But the apostle adds, “unmoveable.” He supposes that our stedfastness will be tried, and he bids us remain unmoveable. Be “stedfast” in times of peace, like rocks in the midst of a calm and glassy sea; be ye unmoveable if ye are assailed like those same rocks in the midst of the tempest when the billows dash against them. Brethren, when you are assailed by argument, be unmoveable. I say, “argument,” but I am complimenting our adversaries, their objections do not deserve the name. It will never be possible for any man living to answer all the queries which others can raise, or reply to all objections which may be brought against the most obvious facts. If any person here were sceptical as to my standing at this present moment upon this platform, I am not certain that I should be able to convince him that I am here. I am quite sure of it myself, but I have no doubt a sceptic would be able to advance objections which would require a keener wit than mine to remove, notwithstanding that the matter would be plain enough if the objector would throw away his logic and use his common sense. Now the arguments against the resurrection which the apostle mentions, were such as he could easily remove. Such a one as this, for instance: How are the dead raised up? Paul seems to have lost his patience in answering it, and he called the man a fool; and you may depend upon it he was a fool, or else the apostle would not have called him so. Granted the existence of a God, you need never ask “How?” If there be omnipotence, there is no room for the question, “How?” God the Almighty can do what he wills, and he is a fool who asks “How?” after once he has believed in God. Most of the objections against the articles of our holy faith are contemptible, yet none the less difficult to answer because contemptible, for an argument is not always apparently strong in proportion to its reasonableness. It may be easier to obviate an objection which has some force in it than to overthrow another which has positively no force at all; in fact, the most difficult arguments to answer are those which are insane at the core, for you must be insane yourself before you can quite catch the thought which insanity has uttered, and as you do not wish to qualify for controversy with fools, by becoming a fool yourself, you may not be able to reply to your antagonist. It will be your right course to be stedfast, unmoveable, that your adversary may see that his sophisms are of no avail. Whatever may be said against our faith we can afford to despise it, since we know that our Lord Jesus Christ has risen from the dead: the evidence of that fact is beyond dispute, and that being proved our faith rests on a rock. Prove the resurrection (and we say it is proved by the best witnesses, and plenty of them), then our faith is true, and we will hold it in the teeth of all opposition. Do not be carried away, therefore, by the sophistry of cunning men, neither be ye cast down. When it is rumoured at any time that a learned man has found out some very wonderful thing which is to put an end to the Bible, do you calmly reply-let him find out another wonderful thing, if so it pleases him. If our wise men have discovered a new origin for the human race, or if they have invented a new way of making a world, we hope their new toy will please them, but such things are not to our mind, we have other and weightier concerns besides fiddling or philosophising. We have no more reverence for these profane dreamers than they have for the Bible; they are nothing to us. Christ has risen from the dead; nothing in physiology or geology can ever contradict that; and if he be risen from the dead them also that sleep in Jesus will God bring with him, and in that faith we abide.

We shall be met in addition to argument by what is far more powerful, namely, by surrounding example. The world never overcame the church in argument yet, for it has always refuted itself. When let alone the unbelieving world has eaten its own words, like Saturn devouring his own children. Whenever any smith in the world’s armoury has forged a weapon against the truth, there has always been another smith at work in the same smithy preparing another weapon wherewith to break the first in pieces: the man has done it not in the interests of the gospel, but in his own interest, and with desire only for his own honour, but he has done the work of the Lord, not knowing what he did. The bad example of the world has often told upon the soldiers of Christ with far more powerful effect. What the arms of Rome could not do against Hannibal, his Capuan holidays are said to have accomplished; his soldiers were conquered by luxury, though invincible by force. When the church lies down at ease, she is apt to feel the diseases of abundance. The current of the world runs furiously towards sin, and the fear is lest the Lord’s swimmers should not be able to stem the flood. It is sad when professors of our holy religion do as others do. It is folly to be singular, except when to be singular is to be right, but it often happens that we forget the rightness of the thing in the fear of being singular. Brethren, care nothing about custom, for custom is no excuse for sin. Be ye stedfast, and if all men are turned to this or that, listen not to their “Lo, heres” and “Lo, theres,” but stand inflexible for holiness, and God, and truth. “Be ye stedfast, unmoveable.”

As you are not moved by the world’s custom, so take care not to be moved by its persecutions. To-day the persecutions which we meet with are very petty; they amount to little more than here and there the loss of a situation, the denial of trade, the being turned out of a farm, or more commonly they go no further than a sneer, a bad name, or a slander. But be ye stedfast, unmoveable whatever may betide. Never let a man, who is but a worm, frown you away from your God. Bid defiance to his fierce looks and angry words, and like a man of God continue in the right way whether you offend or please.

And equally be unmoveable to the world’s smiles. It will put on its sweetest looks and tempt you with its painted cheeks and artful fascinations. Like Jezebel it will tire its head and look out of the window, but like Jehu do you say, “Fling her down!” No peace or truce are you to hold with this crooked and perverse generation. If God prospers you in business let not your riches make you proud; if you have to toil, and there should come in your way an easy escape from hard labour by some crooked path, accept it not, be unmoveable. Let neither the soft south wind nor the boisterous north wind stir you from your roothold. God help you to be faithful unto death.

If ever there was a period in the Christian church when professors needed to be exhorted to be “stedfast, unmoveable,” it is just now, for the foundations are removed and all things are out of course. Men remove the old landmarks, they break down the pillars of the house. All things reel to and fro and stagger like a drunken man, and only he who keepeth the feet of his saints can preserve our uprightness. I see the tacklings loosed and the mast unstrengthened, and the brave vessel of the church is in an evil case. Many have left their moorings and are drifting hither and thither, their helmsmen all amazed. No longer does the squadron of the Lord sail in order of battle, but the lines are broken and the vessels yield to the tossings of winds and waves. Alas, that it should be so. O where is he that trod the sea? The pilot of the Galilean lake! I see him walking the waters, and he cries to us who still stand true to the one Lord, the one faith, and the one baptism, “Be ye stedfast, unmoveable.” Whatever other denominations of Christians do, be ye true to your Lord in all things, for those who forsake him shall be written in the dust. Beloved, never stir away from the truth! Some are changeable by constitution like Reuben, “unstable as water, they shall not excel.” A mind on wheels knows no rest, it is as a rolling thing before the tempest. Struggle against the desire for novelty, or it will lead you astray as the will-o’-the-wisp deceives the traveller. If you desire to be useful, if you long to honour God, if you wish to be happy, be established in the truth, and be not carried about by every wind of doctrine in these evil days. “Be ye stedfast, unmoveable.”

2. The second characteristic of a Christian, however, we must speak upon. He is described as “always abounding in the work of the Lord,” in which we will briefly show that there are four things.

First, dear brethren, every Christian ought to be engaged “in the work of the Lord.” We should all have work to do for our divine Master. True, our everyday labour ought to be so done as to render honour to his name, but in addition to that, every Christian should be labouring in the Lord in some sphere of holy service. I shall not enlarge, but I shall pass the question round to each one-“What are you doing for Jesus Christ?” I pray each one here who makes a profession of faith in Jesus to answer the question, “What am I doing in the work and service of the Lord?” If you are doing nothing, I pray you bewail your slothfulness and escape from it, for talents wrapped in napkins will be terrible witnesses against you.

Then the apostle says, secondly, we are not only to be “in the work of the Lord,” but we to abound in it. Do much, very much, all you can do, and a little more. “How is that?” says one. I do not think a man is doing all he can do if he is not attempting more than he will complete. Our vessels are never full till they run over. The little over proves our zeal, tries our faith, casts us upon God and wins his help. That which we cannot do of ourselves, leads us to call in divine strength, and then wonders are wrought. If you are only aiming at what you feel able to accomplish, your work will be a poor one, lacking in heroism, deficient in the noble element of confidence in the unseen Lord. Abound, then, and super abound in the work of the Lord.

Next note that the apostle says, “always abounding.” Some Christians think it enough to abound on Sundays: Paul says, “always abounding.” That has reference to Mondays: to which day does it not refer? When you are young and in your vigour, abound in service. I recommend all young men to work for God with all their might while they can, for all too soon our energies flag, and the sere and yellow leaf forbids any more young shoots. I would equally urge every man of middle age to use all his time, gifts, and energies at once for the Lord-“always abounding.” Nor should the old man retire; he is to bring forth fruit in old age. The apostle says nothing about retiring from the work of the Lord, but “always abounding.” “Oh, but we must give the young people an opportunity of doing something for God!” Do you mean that you will give the young people an opportunity of doing your work, because if you do I am in arms against so gross an error, for Christian work can never be done by proxy. Throw such an idea away with abhorrence. This is the age of proxy. People are not charitable, but they beg a guinea from somebody else to be charitable with. It is said that charity nowadays means that A finds B to be in distress, and therefore asks C to help him. Let us not in this fashion shirk our work. Go and do your own work, each man bearing his own burden, and not trying to pile a double load on other men’s shoulders. Brethren, from morn till night sow beside all waters with unstinting hand.

The text calls this service “the work of the Lord,” and we must ever bear this in mind; so that if we are enabled to abound in Christian service we may never become proud, but may remember that it is God’s work in us rather than our own work, and whatever we accomplish is accomplished rather by God in us than by us for God. Jesus tells us, “Without me ye can do nothing.” “Always abound,” my brethren, not only in work for the Lord, but in the work of the Lord in yourselves, for only as he works in you to will and to do will you be able to work in his name acceptably.

Put these two things together, the man is to be stedfast, and to abound in work. To come back to my figure of a soldier, these two things are wanted-we want a soldier who can hold his position under a galling fire, but we want him also to dash to the front and lead on a forlorn hope. We need many spiritual Uhlans who can ride ahead and pioneer for others with dauntless courage, but we cannot dispense with the heavy armed infantry who hold their own and wait till the battle turns. It is said that the French had courage enough on the spur of the moment to have rushed up to the cannon’s mouth, but that the German was the victor because he could quietly abide the heat of the battle; and when affairs looked black, he doggedly kept his post. In the long run stay is the winning virtue; he that endureth to the end the same shall be saved. He who can wait with hope is the man to fight with courage. He crouches down until the fit moment comes, and then he leaps like a lion from the thicket upon the foe. God grant that we may have in this place a body of Christian people who shall be stedfast and unmoveable, yet at all times as diligent as they are firm, as intensely zealous as they are obstinately conservative of the truth as it is in Jesus. “Stedfast, unmoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord.”

Our last point is the motive which urges us to these two duties. There are a great many other motives, but the one mentioned in the text is “forasmuch as ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord.” If we derive our motives for Christian labour or stedfastness from the things which we see, our spirit will oscillate from ardour into coldness, it will rise and fall with the circumstances around us. It is comparatively easy for a successful man to go on preaching or otherwise labouring for the Lord, but I admire the perseverance of the man who remains faithful under defeat. To get such a faithfulness we must disentangle ourselves from the idea of being rewarded here; we must be stedfast and unmoveable though nobody praises us, and abound in the work of the Lord though no fruit should come from it, because we have looked beyond this present realm of death, and have gazed into another world where the resurrection shall bring with it our reward.

Dear brethren, let us be stedfast, for our principles are true. If Christ has not risen from the dead, then we are the dupes of an imposition, and let us give it up. Why should we credulously adhere to that which is false? But if Christ hath risen from the dead, then our doctrines are true, and let us hold them firmly and promulgate them earnestly. Since our cause is a good one, let us seek to advance it. Only that which is true will live, time devours the false; the death-warrant of every false doctrine is signed. A fire is already kindled which will consume the wood and hay and stubble of error, but our principles are gold and silver and precious stones, and will endure the flame. “Therefore, let us be stedfast, unmoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord.” Jesus Christ is risen from the dead, therefore what we do is not done for a dead Christ. We are not fighting for a dead man’s cause; we are not contending for an effète dynasty, or a name to conjure by, but we have a living captain, a reigning king, one who is able both to occupy the throne and to lead on our hosts to battle. Oh, by the Christ in glory, I beseech you, brethren, be ye stedfast! If it could be proved to-morrow that Napoleon still lived, there might be some hope for his party, but with the chieftain dead the cause faints. Now Christ Jesus lives; as surely as he died he rose and lives again, and his name shall endure for ever, his name shall be continued as long as the sun, and men shall be blessed in him, all generations shall call him blessed. The colours of that grand old red-cross flag, to defend which your fathers bled, have not in any degree become faded. It has braved a thousand years the battle and the breeze, but its history is as yet in its infancy. Our grand cause is imaged this day, not by a baby in the Virgin’s arms, nor by a dead man in the hands of his enemies, but by a living, reigning, triumphant, glorified Christ, full of splendour and of majesty. Let us rally to his call; for he must reign till he hath put all enemies under his feet. Behold, he cometh! Even now the angels bring forth the white horse caparisoned for the conqueror, he who is called the Faithful and True One shall ride thereon at the head of his elect armies. Even at this moment we see the ensign gleaming above the horizon. The Lord is on his way. Our Captain putteth on his vesture dipped in blood, while on his head are many crowns. He shall smite the nations, and rule them with a rod of iron, and he hath on his vesture and on his thigh a name written, King of kings and Lord of lords. Let us continue true to him, for evil would be our case if we were to desert his cause, and then should see him come in the glory of his Father, attended by cohorts of angels. It would be a dreadful thing to have deserted the army just when the shout of “victory” was about to be raised. Be ye stedfast, unmoveable, for he is risen, and he ever liveth to secure the victory.

Our work of faith is not in vain, because we shall rise again. If what we do for God were to have its only reward on earth, it were a poor prospect. Strike out the hope of the hereafter, and the Christian’s reward would be gone; but, beloved, we shall rise again. Our work is ended when our eye is closed in death, but our life is not ended with our work. We shall preach no more, we shall no more teach the little children, we shall no more talk with the wayfarer about the Saviour; but we shall enjoy better things than these, for we shall sit upon our Saviour’s throne even as he sits upon his Father’s throne. Our heads shall have crowns to deck them, our hands shall wave the palm of victory; we shall put on the white robe-the victor’s apparel; we shall stand around the throne in triumph, and shall behold and share the glories of the Son of God. O brethren, shrink not, for the crown is just within your reach. Never think of diminishing your service, rather increase it, for the reward is close at hand. And remember that as you will rise again, so those whom you come in contact with will also rise again. When I have preached the gospel on a Sunday I have thought, “Well, I shall never see many of these people again,” and the reflection has flashed across my mind, “Yes, I shall; and if I have faithfully, as God’s servant, preached the truth, I shall not need to be afraid to see them either.” If they have received benefit and found Christ through the witness I have borne, they shall be my reward hereafter in the land of the living; and even if they reject the testimony, yet shall they bear their witness to my faithfulness in having preached to them the word of God, for they shall rise again.

O beloved, what is this poor world? There, shut your eyes to it, for it is not worth your gaze. What is there here below? What see I but fleeting shadows and dreams, and phantoms? What shall I live for? What is there worth living for beneath yon stars? What, if I hoard up wealth, I shall have to leave it to ungrateful heirs! What if I get fame, yet how can the breath of man add to my comfort when I lie tossing on the verge of eternity? What is there worth living for, I say, beneath yon stars? But there is a something that makes it worth while existing and makes life grand and noble. It is this: if I may crown with praise that head which for my sake was crowned with thorns, if I may honour him who was dishonoured for my sake, if to the manifestation of the glories of Jehovah I may have contributed a share, if at the reading of the records of all time it may be found that I put out my talent as a faithful servant, and gained interest for my Master, it shall be well. Saved not of debt-far hence the thought!-but of grace alone, yet shall it be no small thing, out of a sense of indebtedness to grace, to have lived and loved and died for Jesus.

What more can I say? are there no ambitions among you? I know there are. Young men, consecrate yourselves to God this day. If you have looked to Jesus and trusted him, serve him for ever. Preach him if you can; go abroad into the foreign field if you may. If you cannot do that, make money for him that you may give it to his cause. Open your shop for his sake, let everything be done for Jesus. Take this henceforth for your motto-All for Jesus, always for Jesus, everywhere for Jesus. He deserves it. I should not so speak to you if you had to live in this world only. Alas, for the love of Jesus, if thou wert all and nought beside, O earth! But there is another life-live for it. There is another world-live for it. There is a resurrection, there is eternal blessedness, there is glory, there are crowns of pure reward-live for them, by God’s grace live for them. The Lord bless you, and save you. Amen.

Portion of Scripture read before Sermon-1 Cor. 15

Mr. Spurgeon’s twentieth year of ministry in London will be commemorated by the erection of buildings to accommodate his College. It will be a generous thing if all who have benefited by his Sermons will contribute to the work. The estimated cost will be £10,000. Help will be gladly received by Mr. Spurgeon, Nightingale Lane, Clapham.

SOUL-SATISFYING BREAD

A Sermon

Delivered on Lord’s-Day Morning, May 18th, 1873, by

C. H. SPURGEON,

at the metropolitan tabernacle, newington.

“And Jesus said unto them, I am the bread of life: he that cometh to me shall never hunger; and he that believeth on me shall never thirst.”-John 6:35.

Our Saviour used expressions concerning himself which might be turned to another meaning than he intended. He did not guard his words by saying, “I am like bread, and faith is like eating and drinking;” but he said, “I am the bread of life;” and “except a man eat my flesh and drink my blood there is no life in him.” He did this not only because from his own sincerity of heart it was not in him to be for ever fencing around all his speeches, but also with a set purpose, because his speech was so plain that if any man misunderstood him it would be the result of his own perversity of mind, and not the effect of any obscurity in the Lord’s language. Thus by fixing a low and sensual meaning upon elevated spiritual language the men of his time would be discovered to be none of the Lord’s chosen, and the thoughts of many hearts would be revealed. While he was preaching, his words were like a refiner’s fire, bringing out the pure metal, but separating it from the dross, and making that dross to appear the worthless thing which it really was. It would clearly appear that men hated the light when they perverted the clearest expressions of the Lord of light into foolishness or mystery. Our Lord’s mission was not so much to save all whom he addressed, as to save out of them as many as his Father gave him; and he used his mode of speaking as a test: those who were his understood him; those who were not his and were not taught of the Father, viciously put a literal meaning upon his spiritual words, and so missed his divine teaching. To this day the memorable expressions of our Lord in this chapter remain a stumblingblock to some, while they are full of glorious instruction to others. We see the world every day parting more and more definitely into two camps, the camp of the chosen of God, to whom is made known the mystery of the kingdom, the babes in grace who read the simple teaching of the gospel and rejoice in it; and on the other side the carnal host who hear the word, but look no deeper than its outward letter, to whom it becomes a “savour of death unto death,” because they pervert the Lord’s spiritual word to a carnal meaning, and straightway heap unto themselves abounding ceremonies, and pierce themselves through with deadly errors. I scarcely think that the prominence of sacramentarianism nowadays is to be altogether regretted; it is only a more clear and manifest severing of the precious from the vile. There is a division as marked as between death and life, and as deep as hell, between the spiritual church which believes in Jesus, and the carnal church which believes in sacraments; between the regenerate who look to Christ upon the cross, and the twice dead who believe in a piece of bread and pay reverence to a wine cup. The Saviour spake in symbols, that the proud might hear in vain, that hearing they might not hear, and seeing they might not perceive, executing upon that self-conceited generation which rejected him the judicial sentence of the Lord, for their hearts were waxen gross, their ears were dull of hearing, and their eyes had they closed.

But now, speaking to those to whom the Lord has given to understand his meaning, let me say, our Saviour uses very simple figures. Think of his calling himself bread! How condescending, that the commonest article upon the table should be the fullest type of Christ! Think of his calling our faith an eating and a drinking of himself! Nothing could be more instructive; at the same time nothing could better set forth his gentleness and humility of spirit, that he does not object to speak thus of our receiving him. God be thanked for the simplicity of the gospel. The longer I live the more I bless God that we have not received a classical gospel, or a mathematical gospel, or a metaphysical gospel; it is not a gospel confined to scholars and men of genius, but a poor man’s gospel, a ploughman’s gospel; for that is the kind of gospel which we can live upon and die upon. It is to us not the luxury of refinement, but the staple food of life. We want no fine words when the heart is heavy, neither do we need deep problems when we are lying upon the verge of eternity, weak in body and tempted in mind. At such times we magnify the blessed simplicity of the gospel. Jesus in the flesh made manifest becomes our soul’s bread, Jesus bleeding on the cross, a substitute for sinners, is our soul’s drink. This is the gospel for babes, and strong men want no more.

Again, it strikes me as being very noteworthy, and especially very worthy of thanks, that our Saviour has taken metaphors of a very common character, so that if our hearts are but right we cannot go anywhere but what we are reminded of him. At our tables we are very apt to forget the best things; the indulgence of the appetite is not very promotive of spirituality, yet we cannot sit down to table but what the piece of bread speaks to us and says, “Poor soul, you want even bread to be given you, you are so needy that your bread must be the gift of heavenly charity. Jesus has come down from heaven to keep you from absolute starvation; he has come down to be bread and water to you.” As you take up that loaf and think of the processes through which it has passed before it has become bread, it preaches a thousand sermons to you concerning the sowing of Jesus as a grain of wheat in the earth, his grinding between the millstones of divine wrath, his passing through the fiery oven. We see the sufferings of Jesus in every crumb we put into our mouths. Why, the Lord has hung the heavens with his name, and made them tell of his love: yon sun proclaims the Sun of Righteousness, and every star speaks of the Star of Bethlehem. You cannot walk your garden, or go into the streets, or open a door, or put on your dress, without being reminded of the Lord Jesus. I remember once visiting a poor Christian in the hospital, who had often attended my ministry, and he said, “Why, sir, you have given us so many illustrations, that as I lie in bed everything I see, or hear, or read of, brings to mind something in your sermons.” How much more true is this of our Great Teacher: we are glad that he has hung up the gospel everywhere, till every dewdrop reflects him, and every wind whispers his name. Day and night talk to each other of him, and the hours commune concerning things to come.

With this as a preface, let us come to our subject. Our text in a very simple way tells us, first, that Jesus Christ is to be received. That reception is here described: “I am the bread of life: he that cometh to me shall never hunger; and he that believeth on me shall never thirst.” The second doctrine of the text is that when Jesus Christ is received, he is superlatively satisfying to the soul-“Shall never hunger;” “Shall never thirst.”

The Lord Jesus Christ is to be received by each one of us personally for himself. An unappropriated Christ is no Christ to any man. Bread which is not eaten, will not stay our hunger. The water in the cup may sparkle like purest crystal, but it cannot slake thirst unless we drink it. To get a personal hold of the Saviour, is the main thing, and the question is how is this to be done. How is Jesus Christ to become a Saviour to me? You will observe that in this chapter, and indeed everywhere else, the mode of obtaining an interest in Christ is never mixed up with the idea of fitness, merit, preparation, or worth. The text saith, “He that cometh to me.” It says nothing of preparation before coming, nor of any meritorious actions connected therewith; it is a simple coming, as a beggar for alms, or a child for its father’s help. The other description is, “He that believeth on me.” There is nothing there of merit; in fact, faith stands in direct opposition to meritorious working; and if we read of eating Christ, and drinking Christ, the act is entirely a receptive one, nothing given forth but everything received, reminding us of that memorable passage, “To as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believed on his name.” It is all a matter of receiving, not of bringing to Christ. We come to him empty-handed, we believe in him without any deservings of our own, and in that way, and in that way only, Jesus Christ becomes our Saviour. Let us dwell on these expressions for a few minutes.

The first is, that we come to him. “He that cometh unto me shall never hunger.” I suppose this represents the first act of faith, by which men enter into spiritual life: we are alienated from Christ, but after hearing the gospel we are by the Holy Spirit led to think of him, to consider him, to study him, and to judge that he is the Saviour whom we want. Our alienation from him is turned into desire after him, and we come to him beseeching him to be our Saviour. We come to him. It is a motion of the heart towards him, not a motion of the feet, for many came to Jesus in body, and yet never came to him in truth; they were close to him in the press, but they never touched him so that virtue came out of him. The coming here meant is performed by desire, prayer, assent, consent, trust, obedience. It means that I hear what Christ is, and learn what God says he is; that he is God and that he is man, that he came into the world to take the sins of men upon himself and to be punished in their stead; I hear all this, and assent to it. I believe in Jesus, and I say, “If he died for all those who trust him, I will trust him; if he has offered so great a sacrifice upon the tree for guilty men, I will rely upon that sacrifice and make it the basis of my hope.” That is coming to Jesus Christ. The term is very simple, yet it is not so very easily explained to others because of its being so simple. If you are taught of the Father you will know full well what it is, but if not I fear that the plainest words will not make you understand. Perhaps I may illustrate coming to Jesus by an incident connected with the hymn which we sang just now. I think I have read somewhere that Mr. Wesley was one morning dressing: his window looked out towards the sea, and there was a heavy wind blowing, the waves were very boisterous, and the rain was falling heavily; just then a little bird, overtaken by the tempest, flew in at the open window and nestled in his bosom. Of course, he cherished it there, and then bade it go on its way when the storm was over. Impressed by the interesting occurrence, he sat down and wrote the verse-

“Jesus, lover of my soul,

Let me to thy bosom fly,

While the raging billows roll,

While the tempest still is high.

Hide me, O my Saviour, hide

Till the storm of life be past.”

Imitate that poor little bird if you would have Christ: fly away from the wrath of God, fly away from your own convictions of sin, fly away from your dark forebodings of judgment to come, right into the bosom of Jesus, which is warm with love to sinners.

“Come, guilty souls, and flee away,

Like doves to Jesus’ wounds;

This is the accepted gospel day

Wherein free grace abounds.”

The second description given us of the way in which Christ becomes ours, is by believing on him. Here again I have to explain a word which needs no explanation except one flash of light from the Holy Ghost, and I question whether any other light was ever sufficient to make it clear, and that not because of any real obscurity, but because of the wilful blindness of unrenewed nature. To believe on Christ means to believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, and the Saviour of men; but it includes far more than that. You may be very orthodox in your notions about Christ, in fact, you may believe what the Bible states about him, and yet you may not have saving faith in him. “He that believeth on me.” What if I put the word “trusts” instead? “He that trusteth in me;” or he who leans all his weight on me; who, knowing such and such things to be true, acts as if they were true; and shows the reality of his belief by the simplicity of his reliance. Knowing that Christ came to save sinners, the believer says, “Then I depend upon him to save me:” knowing that Jesus was the substitute for human guilt, he says, “He is the substitute for my guilt: if he came and took sin upon himself, then I trust him, and therefore know that he took my sin, that he ‘bore, that I might never bear, his Father’s righteous ire.’ ” And is Christ really a man’s Saviour the moment he believes? Yes, the moment he believes. But suppose his former life has been scandalous? It is forgiven him for Christ’s name sake. But suppose that the moment before he so trusted Christ there was no good thing in him whatever? Jesus Christ died for the ungodly, and he is “able to save to the uttermost them that come unto God by him.” But suppose he should be imperfect afterwards? It is no supposition, he will be so; but “the blood of Jesus Christ, God’s dear Son, cleanseth us from all sin.” A very blessed text assures us that “There is a fountain opened for the house of David and for the inhabitants of Jerusalem, for sin and for uncleanness.” It is not a fountain merely for common sinners, but for those who are God’s people, and yet sin. They still find cleansing where they found it at the first. “If any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ, the righteous.” Faith is an act of reliance upon Christ’s great sacrifice, and wherever the Holy Ghost works it in men it makes Christ to be theirs, so that they shall never hunger and shall never thirst.

But I pass on to the third way in which we are said to receive Christ. It is not in the text in so many words, but we must consider it because, though not there literally, it is there spiritually. It is eating and drinking. We are to eat Christ and to drink Christ. Oh, it is monstrous, it is monstrous that out of Bedlam there should live men who should dream that Jesus taught us literally to eat his flesh and to drink his blood! I am more and more astounded at this nineteenth century; I have heard it praised up for its enlightenment and progress till I am sick to death of the nineteenth century, and am right glad that it is nearing its close, and I hope the twentieth century will be something better. Surely no period of time has been more given to superstition. Even the age of witchcraft bids fair to be outdone by the age of Ritualists. Here you have idiots in high places, absolute, stark, staring idiots, who preach to men that they are to turn cannibals in order to be saved. Surely such an act, if it could be perpetrated, must rather be the nearest way to be damned; what greater crime could there be than for men literally to eat the flesh of their own Saviour? I cannot speak too strongly against so extraordinary, so monstrous a perversion of the teaching of our Lord. What he meant by our eating his flesh and blood is just this-we believingly receive him into our hearts, and our minds feed upon him. We hear of Jesus Christ as the Son of God, and as the Substitute for sinners: we believe it, and so receive the truth as men receive bread into the mouth. Now, in eating we first put the food into our mouths. As a whole it goes into the mouth, and even thus, as a whole, Christ Jesus is received into our belief and trust. The food being in the mouth, we proceed to masticate it; it is broken up, it is dissolved, our taste finds out its secret essence and flavour; and even in this way the believing mind thinks of Jesus, contemplates him, meditates upon him, and discovers his preciousness. We see far more of our Lord after conversion than we did at first. We have believed in him, knowing but little of him: but by-and-by we comprehend with all the saints what are the heights and depths, and know the love of Christ which passeth knowledge. Jesus becomes more comforting, and more delightful, as we comprehend more clearly who and what he is; our faith, which we placed implicitly upon him, now sees a thousand reasons for a yet fuller confidence, and so is strengthened. For instance, the ordinary believer believes in Jesus Christ because he is a divine Saviour; but the instructed believer sees in Jesus Christ fitness, fulness, variety of office, glory of character, completeness of work, immutability, and a thousand other things, which endear him. In this way the truth concerning the Lord is, as it were, masticated and enjoyed. But the process of eating goes further: the food descends into the inward parts to be digested, and there is a further breaking up and dissolving of it. So the great truths of incarnation and sacrifice are made to dwell in the memory, to lie upon the heart, to rest in the affections, till their essence, comfort, and force are fully drawn forth. Oh, it is beyond degree refreshing to let these grand truths dwell in us richly, to be inwardly digested! Have you ever chewed the cud with the truths of the gospel, turning them over, and over, and over again as delicious morsels for your spiritual taste? Can you say with David, “How precious also are thy thoughts unto me, O God”? If so you know what spiritual eating is. When that is done the food is next assimilated and taken into the substance of the body; it passes from the digesting organs to those which assimilate it. Each portion of the body draws forth its own proper nutriment from the food, and so the whole man is built up. It is just so with the great truths, that Christ became man and died in man’s stead; these are inwardly received by us till our whole nature draws from them a satisfying and strengthening influence: by a sort of mystic sympathy, the truth being fitted to the mind and the mind requiring just such truth, our whole nature drinks in Christ; and his person and work become our mind’s joy, delight, strength, and life. As a man thinketh in his heart so is he, and therefore our thoughts of Jesus, and faith in him, build us up into him in all things. Now, as a man who has feasted well, and is no more hungry, rises from the table satisfied, so we feel that in Jesus our entire nature has all that it wants. Christ is all, and we are filled in him, complete in him. This is to receive Christ. Now, beloved, if you want to have Christ altogether your own you must receive him by this process. Merely to trust him gives you Christ as food in your mouth; to contemplate, to meditate, to commune with him, this is to understand him, even as food is digested and is ours; further prayer and fellowship and meditation, assimilate Christ so that he becomes part and parcel of our very selves; Christ lives in us, and we in him.

We ought not to forget as we are dwelling upon this, that the two points about Jesus Christ, which he says are to us meat and drink, are his flesh and his blood. We understand by his flesh, his humanity; our soul feeds upon the literal, real, historical fact, that, “God was in Christ.” That “the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us,” and men beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth. My soul’s main comfort to-day is not a doctrine. I get a great deal of comfort out of many doctrines, but the bottom comfort of my soul is not a doctrine but a fact, and it is this fact, that he who made the heavens and the earth, and without whom was not anything made that was made, was born of the Virgin Mary at Bethlehem, and for thirty years and more did actually, not in fiction or romance, but in very deed, dwell as a man among men. That fact is my soul’s food. The historical fact that Christ Jesus was flesh and blood, bone of our bone, flesh of our flesh, a man like ourselves: this I say is nourishment to our spirits, and believing it we feel a joy unutterable, for we know that he who sits upon the throne of God is a man. Man was made “a little lower than the angels,” but now in the person of Christ he is crowned with glory and honour. We now know that God cannot hate manhood, because Christ is a man. Christ has reconciled God to manhood because he represented manhood, and the thoughts of God towards man are, for Christ’s sake, thoughts of love and not of evil.

The other point in which Jesus is food to our mind is his blood. This most clearly refers to his sufferings and to his vicarious death. Bread and wine are put upon the communion table as separate symbols; not bread and wine mixed together, that would destroy the teaching. The wine is distinct from the bread, because when the blood is separated from the flesh there is before you the sure evidence of death. Now the true drink of a thirsty sinner is the fact that Christ died in his stead. I will repeat what I said; my great hope as a sinner does not lie in a doctrine, and my consolation as a trembling criminal before the bar of God is not founded in any opinion or doctrinal statement, but in a fact. He who is very God of very God, did hang upon a cross of wood, upon the little mount of Calvary just outside the gates of Jerusalem, and there in agonies unutterable beneath the wrath of God made expiation for the sins of all who believe in him. There is my hope; there is yours, my brother. Yes, there is all our hope. Very well, then; do you not see that the way to obtain the benefits of the Lord Jesus Christ, is to believe in his being God and man, to believe in his dying as the God-man, and to rest upon this, and to contemplate this, and to turn to it again and again and again, so that, having marked and learned, you may also inwardly digest those unspeakably glorious mysteries of incarnation and of sacrifice?

I have set the gospel before you now, for if any man among you will do this, Christ is yours. Here is Christ to be had for nothing, Christ to be had simply by trusting him, by coming to him. As the vessel obtains its fulness by its emptiness being placed under the flowing stream, as the beggar’s wants are relieved by puttting out his empty hand to accept an alms, so you are to obtain Christ by coming to him as empty sinners. He is given to you for nothing, freely given to you of God, and whosoever will may have him; and if you have him not, it is not because he has rejected you, for he has never rejected one that has come to him, but because you have rejected him. Dear fellow sinners, may God the Holy Spirit grant you grace to receive Jesus, and to be saved by him.

The second part of our subject is this. Where Jesus is received he is supremely satisfying. He is supremely satisfying, mark you, to our highest and deepest wants, not to mere fancies and whims. Christ compares the wants of men to hungering and thirsting. Now hungering is no sham. Those who have ever felt it know what a real want it indicates, and what bitter pangs it brings. Thirst also is not a sentimental matter; it is a trial indeed. What pain can be worse beneath the skies than thirst? Now Jesus has come to meet the deep, real, pressing, vital wants and pains of your nature. Your fear of hell, your terror of death, your sense of sin, all these Jesus has come to meet, and all these he does meet in the case of all who come to him, as every one who has tried him will bear witness.

Jesus Christ meets the hungering of conscience. Every man with an awakened conscience feels that God must punish him for sin; but as soon as he perceives that the Son of God was punished instead of him, his conscience is perfectly appeased, and will never hunger again. Until men know the truth of the substitution of Jesus you may preach to them what you will, and they may go through all the sacraments, and they may suffer many bodily mortifications, but their conscience will hunger still. My God whom I offended became a man, and for my sake he suffered what I ought to have suffered; therefore my conscience rests gratefully contented with so divinely gracious a way of satisfying justice.

Men when once awakened have a hunger of fear. They look forward to the future, and they scarcely know why, but they feel a dread of something undefinable, but full of terror; and especially if they are near to die, horror takes hold upon them, for they know not what is yet to come; but when they find that Jesus Christ, who is God, became man, and died for men, that whosoever trusts him might be saved, then fear expires, and love takes its place. The dove in the cleft of the rock feels no more rude alarms. Terror cannot live beneath the cross, for there hope reigns supreme. Nor shall fear ever return, for the work of Jesus is nnished, and, therefore, no hiding place for fear is left.

The heart also has its hunger, for almost unknown to itself it cries, “O that some one loved me, and that I could love some one whose love would fill my nature to the brim.” Men’s hearts are gluttons after love, yea, like death and the grave they are insatiable. They hunt hither and thither, but are bitterly disappointed; for earth holds not an object worthy of all the love of a human heart: but when they hear that Jesus Christ loved them before the world was, and died for them, their roving affections find rest. Like as Ruth found rest in the house of a husband, so do we come to peace in Jesus. The love of Jesus casts out all hankering for other loves and fills the soul. He becomes the bridegroom of our heart, our best beloved, and we bid the meaner things depart. In the love of the Father and the Son we dwell in sweet content, hungering and thirsting no more. If the ocean of divine love cannot fill us, what can? What more can a man want or wish for?

“My God, I am thine;

What a comfort divine,

What a blessing to know

That my Saviour is mine!